[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
22:19 GMT

"Oh aye. Seen 'em around once or twice. Folks from another world."

The large grey… Individual I'm presently sharing the courtyard's brazier with nods companionably. Human-equivalent intelligence, though whether or not they're mentally specialised I can't tell as yet. He's not quite my size and considerably less than my mass. Stronger? Weaker? He isn't a new god equivalent, I'd feel it easily if he was instinctively shaping local magic. But I'd only feel bound spells if they were strong and active, at least without doing something that he might feel.

"Do they come here frequently?"

"Dun't roightly know. No reason for them to tell me." Fair point, I suppose. "Never seen 'em bring hobgoblins with 'em, 'fore you. Your master a wee bit higher up than the usual 'visitors'?"

A capacity for reasoning and inquisitiveness. Not a pure weapon species, then. And.. apparently, he's a hobgoblin. And that's a wrought iron brazier he's holding his hands out to in a stable area full of iron. If he has any fae blood in him he's had a few upgrades made.

"Oh, different people have different preferences. Sir Cyril wouldn't dream of coming somewhere like this without me."

Well. It's true. Even in the bad old days when he ended most evenings in a drunken stupor, Sir Cyril's destructive tendencies were all inwardly directed. I imagine that if he'd found out about the Caligula Club he'd have bravely stormed the place and been quietly killed.

"That roight? Interestin' way ah doing things."

"Oh yes. Apparently, he's never had a meat shield better than me."

"'Meat shield'? Hah!" He grins. "Not too far off the truth there, I reckon." He shifts in place a little. "Course… My days in the regiment are well behind me."

I raise my eyebrows in polite inquiry. "Injury?"

"Nah, though you're a gent for saying so. Uuuurgh. Can't keep up with the young'uns at my age. Still, long as I can keep myself useful they won't break me up for spares, aye?"

I'm probably being speciesist thinking this, but I honestly can't tell the difference between him and the others. Not that they're identical, I just can't tell what the signs of age are in their kind.

"Have you got any idea how long it takes to get a message to the castle and back? Not that you're not splendid company, but I doubt that Sir Cyril will want to hang around."

"Ah, yes. Doesn't do to trouble the gentry, does it?"

Not seeing any fear there, just an acknowledgement of a commonly known fact. That's rather the problem with having a warrior race as personal servants: they can slap a heck of a lot harder than you can. I wonder how they're kept obedient? Loyalty geas or cultural conditioning? On the other hand, if the Queen really is a powerful enough magic user, maybe they save their fear for her? Haven't seen anyone lower down the food chain using the stuff… The difference between aristocrats and royalty, perhaps?

"He's fairly even-tempered outside of a proper fight." I shrug. "But why take unnecessary risks?"

"Well." He thinks for a moment. "If they've set a quick runner, or an 'orse on empty roads, no more than a half-hour. Castle gate ull let someone from here roight on through. Time back depends on-."

From nowhere comes the loud clatter of charging hooves and the clacking of metal-rimmed wheels on cobbles.

"Ah." My companion takes a step backwards towards the entrance to the stable-proper. "Might be wise to fetch your master prompt-loike."

I nod as the sound grows louder, taking small steps towards the servants' entrance but keeping my eyes firmly on the yard's street entrance. I wonder what manner of creature would be so readily identifiable? Would a queen who uses fae creatures as foot soldiers bind unicorns? A princess was mentioned, so I doubt she'd attract them by conventional meansoh my word!

The horses don't come through the gate. They -somehow- run at full charge out of the fucking drinking trough right beside me, scales gleaming and manes dripping. Kelpies, of course. The other fae horse. Who can apparently pull carriages far too big to have come out of that trough through it with no trouble at all, and who are now pulling it around in a circle while giving me a decidedly unfriendly eye.

What's a good hobgoblin to do?

I turn away and hurry back inside. This part of the building is a little more sized for larger folk, and I hardly have any trouble navigating past the back office staff. Let's see, right, foyer, grand lounge…

Sir Cyril is having a polite chat with one of the local club members, an untouched wine glass on the table in front of him. Faceoff stands behind him with his arms folded, his position mirrored by the other fellow's guard. Hope he's found out something useful. I take a quick look around to see if anything of note has changed, then walk directly towards my 'master'.

"…always going to be a bit of a problem. In my experience, isolating them from their leaders for a bit and then offering them a token concession or two is the best way to handle it."

Hm. Ethnically homogenous. Some tanned skin, suggesting Roma heritage. Nothing darker. No blonde hair, either. Black, brown and red only.

"A concession!" The other man looks almost comically horrified. "But if word got around-."

"Then don't let it. Invite a few neighbours around when you hang the ringleaders and they won't say a thing."

"I suppose. Still… It sticks in the craw."

"Needs must when the Queen drives. Something amiss, Grayven?"

He doesn't look up as he asks.

"I believe that your carriage has arrived, Sir Cyril. Kelpie-driven, apparently."

"My word." His companion looks suitably impressed. "They must want to speak to you in a bit of a hurry."

"And it wouldn't do to keep them waiting." Sir Cyril pushes his chair back and rises, striding towards the 'member' route to the yard. "Good evening to you."

I let Faceoff follow at his heels while I bring up the rear. I'm not really sure that I'll fit in even quite a large carriage, let alone be conveyed in one without crushing it. I'm hoping the same magic that lets them take shortcuts through-.

"'Hang the ringleaders'? What the fuck was that about?"

"That was about convincing him not to decimate them. And mind your manners; you're my bodyguard, remember."

Sinestro, patch me through to their radios.

Done, Corpsman.

The large grey fellows are hobgoblins, no iron vulnerability that I could notice. There's a standing military force of them, and they're definitely human equivalent in intelligence. The one I spoke to lacked the fear of his 'betters' that the human servants have. What did you get?

"Hereditary aristocracy controls just about everything. 'The rich man in his castle, the poor man at his gate' in… Blasted deed." Story there. "The rest of the country doesn't look anything like as nice as this city does. More like medieval than early modern. Didn't get the Queen's name, but she's ruled for at least three generations and probably more."

"It's Morgan le Fay." Sir Cyril doesn't stop walking, but his rhythm does change noticeably and I give the back of Faceoff's head a confused stare. "There was a painting on the wall with her name on it."

Morgan? A bloke?

I don't remember that from… All of those cartoons I watched growing up.

"No, it's old French."

Oh. French. That explains it.

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
22:26 GMT

Of course.

It's bigger on the inside.

I'm still taking up one entire bench, mind, but at least there's room for the other two to sit without me crushing them. Sir Cyril taps on the inside of the door, then there's a slight lurch as the carriage accelerates.

"It's not just the kelpies." Sir Cyril's jaw looks pensive, but his helmet still obscures the upper part of his face. It makes reading his exact mood rather tricky. "The coachman was fae as well."

I nod. "Oh? It fits the theme." I feel a slight tug, then… The view outside the windows becomes one of green-tinted water. That's what it feels like? "I did spot that there wasn't any iron on the coach. What sort of fae?"

"It's hard to tell. A boggun, probably. They're hard working and loyal, as long as their employer holds up their end of the bargain."

Faceoff stares moodily out of the window. "When did this become my life?"

Sir Cyril purses his lips, inclining his head slightly. "Something you want to share with the rest of us?"

I glance out of the window as some sort of eel swims past. Faceoff looks at Sir Cyril, probably trying to work out if he's taking the piss or not. "Do you actually know what I do?"

"Yes. You used to be in the Parachute Regiment, now you work in a fishmonger's in-."

"No, not that. And how do you know about that, anyway?"

"I like to keep an eye on our community. Particularly the elements that look like they might go on a shooting spree."

"What, so you don't shoot people yourself but you don't mind other people doing it?"

"I mind other people doing it. But I've got better things to do than spend time stopping people like you doing it when the people they're shooting to an extent have it coming. And while I'd prefer them to be tried and arrested, I'm not exactly broken up about Triad people traffickers being washed up with on the beach with holes in their heads."

I raise my eyebrows slightly? "Really? You know, if the fishmonger thing doesn't work out-?"

"But that's the problem, isn't it?" He ignores me. "I understand men with guns. I trained for that. And I know criminal networks. I don't know.. fucking.. f-"

"Language."

"-airies." I try not to smile. "I mean, how do you even get involved in this?"

Sir Cyril shrugs. "Do this long enough and you tend to run into it. The.. magic and other strange things are out there, and if you don't die you'll learn to cope. My dad showed me a few things when I was a boy, and if you actually treated those people you meet in The Time in a Bottle as useful contacts rather than as ridiculous morons then you might learn something."

"On Apokolips, this sort of stuff just comes with the territory. So your enemy is a different shape this time, so what? If it's worth shooting a gangster for then it's worth shooting a hobgoblin for. You know. As above, so below."

"I suppose you've got a point." He taps his left heel against his bench. "And at least I know I made the right choice not joining the Met's armed response unit after I left the army."

Sir Cyril shifts around awkwardly so that he can look Faceoff full on. "What makes you say that?"

"The Met work for the Home Office. Right now, Grayven's g-elves are grabbing everyone with any power in the Home Office. And if they miss anyone, armed response units are going to get ordered to attack the g-elves, aren't they?"

I shake my head. "I'm not worried either about or for the police. We've got unparalleled strategic mobility, they've got London traffic. By the time they've set up anywhere, we should be done."

"Well…" Sir Cyril leans back. "Unless Morgan le Fay sends in her hobgoblins."

"Then that's what we have to-" Another tug, and water streams off the exterior of the carriage as the kelpies trot out into a courtyard. "-ensure doesn't happen.

I lean down to peer out of the window, and a rather sharply dressed courtier with… Yes, cat eyes and ears peers back. That's most likely Frimost. The carriage comes to a halt a short distance from him. What little I know about this sort of thing suggests that someone should be opening the door for us, but that isn't happening.

"Ah. Sir Cyril? Which of us opens the door?"

"A footman, or the coach driver."

"So do I wait, or just open it myself?"

"I don't think it will hurt my credibility if you do."

"Right then." I reach across the carriage and take hold of the door handle, which… Doesn't move. I push a little harder. Yield to my Purpose!

The door sort.. spins, the force from my hand ripping the hinges out of the structure of the carriage. As my hand stops the door keeps going, flying across the courtyard while the handle remains in my hand. The boggun coachman who is standing right next to the door takes a slightly nervous step backwards and looks to Frimost for guidance.

I lean forwards and extricate myself as delicately as possible, handing the handle to the boggan. "Sorry."

"Quitealrightm'lord." He shuffles back a little to give me space. "Meaningtohavethatlookedatanyhow."

Sir Cyril steps out after me, and I step to the side to allow him to take the lead. Frimost appears to have no special interest in any one of us, his eyes darting from point of interest to point of interest without settling anywhere. Not very cat-like, but I suppose that he isn't either. Sir Cyril gives Faceoff -really need to find out what his name is- a moment to extricate himself as well, then strides towards Frimost.

"Sir Cyril Sheldrake, here to see Queen Morgan le Fay. Is your queen at home?"

"Hmmmrm. She might be." He looks us over once more while I look around the courtyard for avenues of attack. Four solid walls, a heavy locked gate presumably to let the carriage out, and a door behind Frimost which I assume allows invited guests into the castle living areas. "But I'm not sure that she's at home to you."

"If there's some courtesy that I've missed, then she has my most sincere apologies."

"Oh, please. Armour? No suit? Openly displayed weapons? This isn't a mistimed visit. You're not with our regular visitors at all. Taken the Caligula Club by storm, perhaps?"

Rats.

Sir Cyril is unfazed. "Alright, but I would still like to discuss matters with the queen."

"No.. you.. wouldn't. But if you follow me I'll take you to Princess Morgana. She's in a mood to be entertained, I think." He turns away from us and starts to walk towards the castle door, which opens as he approaches. "This way, if you please."

Sir Cyril waits for a moment, though whether due to proper comportment or to give me a chance to interject I can't tell. Then, at a pace slightly slower than that of our escort, he follows him up the steps. Faceoff checks our surroundings again, earning a head-tossing from the closest kelpie as the boggan tries to lead them away. I give him a slight gesture in the direction of the door with my left hand, and with the carbine clasped to his chest and ready to be pointed at a target at a moment's notice he marches after Sir Cyril.

That carriage was what they use to escort visiting dignitaries, and yet I was able to destroy the door without specifically meaning to. Overspecialisation? Good against direct attack but bad against subversion? Morgaine-. Morgan, whatever, is a name, but I've got no way to assess how powerful she is compared to people I've already killed. And she's clearly had some time to dig in. Then again, there's a functioning civilisation here, with elite armies and nobles who are actually involved in running society. Could be someone I can work with.

I might get more out of this than I expected.

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
22:49 GMT

Hmm. Yes. I can feel her.

Not a lot of blatant magic on display. The magic lights are dim, but I imagine that is because the castle is in its night cycle and the queen doesn't want her circadian rhythms to get messed up. But nonetheless, the one who raised this castle has woven her power through every brick, every furnishing. Even with New God technology, I don't have this degree of penetration into the fabric of Challenger Mountain. It's almost godly. I can feel the pressure of it. She almost certainly knows that I'm here and what I am.

We don't appear to be taking a direct route anywhere. Either that, or our host is on the move for her own convenience and we're trailing behind. Is Frimost showing off the place in an attempt to impress us? Faceoff is pretty much just checking the corners for potential attackers -must remember to teach him to check up more- and then ignoring the rest as a distraction. Sir Cyril is looking at points of interest, but I think he's just being polite. He's probably seen plenty of 'working' castles, and his own has been significantly upgraded in recent centuries. His armour's probably buzzing slightly from the surrounding arcane energy but when you can't feel it directly that sort of thing is far less impressive; a substitute for a technologically primitive people.

From a door ahead I hear a soft thump, and sort of.. almost frenzied carpet-shuffling noise. Frimost grins as he glances back at us. "I believe that Her Highness is ready to receive you now."

Sir Cyril nods as the sounds continue. "Good of her. Lead on."

Frimost turns as he reaches the door which appears to be the source of the sound, and extends his right hand to it. "Presenting Her Highness, Princess Morgana of Camelot." He pushes the door open, then steps smartly in and to the side. "Princess?"

Sir Cyril follows him in through the door, stopping in apparent surprise at something he's seeing. "Ah-." A moment later he remembers that we're behind him and steps further inside to allow Faceoff and myself-.

Huh.

A youngish woman in a green dress with a black bodice is currently sitting astride a rolled-up carpet, flailing at it with a carpet-beater. That would be odd by itself, but added to the sight is the fact that the carpet roll is flying around the room and appears to be trying to buck her. Her face is-. I mean, if she were younger I imagine that she'd be laughing or screaming, but as it is she just looks sort of… Annoyed. And mildly annoyed at that, as if the animated rug isn't worth her time and she's just going through the motions.

Frimost leans back slightly to around a flailing carpet tail. "Oh, Princess?"

"Mungh." She takes a firm grip around the carpet with both legs, raises her carpet beater above her head and-. It transmutes into a sword as she swings it downwards, slicing into the carpet roll's 'head'. It jerks, shudders and then falls from the air. Princess Morgana herself remains in the air as it hits the stone floor and unrolls, filling the space in the centre of the room, the wounds it took in the farcical struggle still visible on the weave. Morgana then slumps through the air back to ground level, eyes passing over the three of us without any hint of interest until they reach Frimost. "What?"

"Guests, Highness. You sent me ahead of your mother's coachman?"

Wait, we were supposed to wait? I mean, I'm still sure that Morgan knows that we're here anyway, but this could get rather tedious if we're being used for local dominance games.

"Oh." She frowns for a half-second, then stares moodily at Sir Cyril. "Who are you?"

Sir Cyril manages a reasonable bow, despite his armour. "Cyril Sheldrake at your service, your Highness."

She continues to stare at him, then returns her gaze to Frimost. "Why did I want you to bring him here?"

"You did not elect to share that information with me, Highness. Perhaps you thought that you might find him amusing?"

She looks away, shrugging disinterestedly. Then she schleps towards a thickly upholstered chair and thumps herself into it. "I'm not finding much amusing right now."

"I have observed -if you'll forgive me for saying so- that you usually find everything amusing or nothing."

"Oh." She looks away. "I don't feel like being amused."

Sir Cyril takes a hesitant step towards her. "Your Highness, I want to speak to someone about relations between Britain and this wor-."

"Yes, the bounty on Zond is still outstanding, and it can be claimed by submitting any reasonably recognisable body part. Yes, Mother's in fine health and no, I'm not interested in marrying you."

"Er-. Alright." Sir Cyril pauses, clearly not sure how to deal with her attitude. "I'm afraid that I'm new at representing Britain to foreign powers. Do I need to present documents to you or to the queen?"

"Oh please. You don't represent them." Frimost looks just a little smug at her pronouncement. "You don't have enough ghosts around you to be from their government, and you don't smell of that ritual geomantic magic they like using so much." She leans forward, looking slightly more alert. "You're actually a knight, like my brother was."

Not sure how much of a compliment being compared to an inbred utopia-killer is, and even less sure… Wait. Wasn't there a version of Mordred in Seven Soldiers of Victory? Some sort of… Undead thing? Most of the creatures I've seen so far have been traditional fae, not Sheeda pseudo-fae, so… Probably not the same Mordred..? Maybe Mordred used to be a very common name or something.

"I.. do my best."

"And what brave deed did you perform to earn your spurs?"

"Ah. That's been a spot of confusion for a lot of people. I call myself 'knight' but I've never actually been knighted."

"You haven't?" Her mouth morphs into a grimace. "Are you a peasant in disguise?"

"No, I'm actually an Earl." He is? "Because I adopted the name 'knight' as a declaration of my intent to live up to the highest ideals of nobility and chivalry, people often assume that that's my rank in the peerage. It isn't. I don't usually like to make a big deal about it. I did get an audience with Queen Elizabeth after I defeated Springheeled Jack and avenged my father, but I do what I do because it's right, not because I'm under a feudal obligation to do so."

She sits back, crossing her legs. "So why are you really here, Lord Sheldrake?"

"I've had to deal with people from here before, in my professional capacity. We're having a professional disagreement concerning the direction of the British government back on our side, and I want to make sure that we're not about to have a second front open up. I'd also like to make sure that none of the people we're looking for are planning on coming here."

"'Professional disagreement'? Are you a traitor to the crown, Lord Sheldrake?"

"No. If certain people have acted outside the laws of the land, it is perfectly legitimate to bring them to justice. Even if they think you shouldn't."

"And you just want us to be neutral?"

"That's all we're asking."

She exhales, pouting as she does so. Then she looks away from him. "And what does that get us?"

"What would you like to get out of it?"

"Machinery, magic books, serfs and the crown of Britain."

"We can certainly do the first two. I'm afraid that Britain abolished serfdom about nine hundred years ago, and offering you the crown is a bit outside my remit."

She looks back, frowning. "If you don't have serfdom, what are you doing with all those people we've already sent you?"

I see Lord Sheldrake's right hand clench into a fist. "What they did to them is what they're being arrested for. You have my sincere apologies and I will be happy to discuss things in full once they've settled down a bit back home, but right now we need-."

A tremendous gong noise echoes through the castle. I actually wince a bit, and Frimost hisses as he covers his ears. Morgana looks fully alert for the first time since we came in here.

"Mother's calling."

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:05 GMT

Tottering on metre long wooden legs, Princess Morgana's chair somehow manages to make it up the steps up the inside of the tower without dropping her. Frimost is just ahead of her, and I can just about hear him-

"Presenting her highness, Princess Morgana of Camelot."

-as she makes it through the exit and onto the balcony. Lord Sheldrake is just behind her, at what I imagine he thinks is a safe distance if she takes a tumble. And yes, there's someone powerful up ahead.

"Her guest, Lord Cyril Sheldrake. And escort."

Lord Sheldrake exits the corridor without any other fanfare, and Faceoff emerges into the open air a moment later. Alright then, let's see-

You could just have me scan them, Corpsman.

-what she looks like. Yes I could, except that in her place of power she would almost certainly feel it and that would blow your cover. I don't think that I'll be able to pretend to be dumb muscle before a magic user of her reputed power, but I can at least disguise my precise advantages.

Reasonable.

I step out into the night sky and ah. Now I see why she wanted us to join her here. There must be at least a thousand fully kitted out hobgoblin soldiers down there, along with a cluster of humans who I presume to be officers or mages. And at the far end of the causeway is a gate. Not the Gate-gate; it's a good deal smaller and the hobgoblin block is forced to break into lines as they prepare to pass through. The numbers wouldn't be a problem in the medium term, but they would cause a lot of casualties passing through into a modern city. Exactly how much would depend on how physically powerful they actually are, but I don't really want Justice League interference during the reconstruction.

Hm.

"Impressive sight, aren't they?"

I tear my eyes away from the small army and look at our host. Queen Morgan le Fay is standing at the tip of the promontory overlooking the causeway, her daughter's chair parking itself a little way away while Sir Cyril stands just behind her. She looks quite a lot like her Justice League animated counterpart, gold-coated plate armour decorated with a purple cloak and green helmet plumes. Some effort has been made to make the faceplate resemble the face beneath, but I'm guessing that the full body coverage means that her physical body is just as decayed as it was in Justice League Animated.

Lord Sheldrake turns away from her to look down at the assembled throng. "I don't know enough about them to assess them."

Naturally, she isn't talking to me, so I take another moment to take in the hobgoblins' equipment before returning to my station behind Lord Sheldrake. No guns, but I am seeing a preponderance of shields, cudgels and a sort of heavy knife. The hobgoblins are wearing heavy armour, but that doesn't look like a spree-killing force. It looks like a medievalist's attempt at riot police.

"Strong enough to secure the centre of London against anything that could be sent against them within a few days." She turns around to look directly at him. "I received a most curious message less than an hour ago. My relationship with the government of Britain has always been moderately awkward, given that I claim to be their legitimate queen. And yet less than an hour ago they requested that I aid them by sending a military force into their territory."

Lord Sheldrake just nods.

"When I felt the portal in the Justinian Club activate, I thought that they were sending a representative to explain the situation in full. Except that not even an hour later another representative arrived, this time through the Marble Arch gate."

Marble Arch was used as a portal for a distraction attack during one of her arcane theft campaigns. Official records of the event say that it was sealed. I didn't pay it much attention because I didn't know about this place, but I suppose if they sealed it then it makes sense that they would know how to unseal it.

"Should I assume that you would rather that I didn't interfere?"

"That would be an accurate assumption, your majesty."

She raises her right gauntlet to her mask and taps her right forefinger against the metal. "Would you like to know what they've offered me?"

"Do you intend to have us bid against one another?"

"It does seem that it is in my interests to do so."

"You've got a lot of hobgoblins down there, but it won't be enough. Even if you stormed central London right now, all you'd achieve is a lot of death. You couldn't hold it, your force would be wiped out by the counterattack and then you wouldn't be able to hide what you've got here any longer."

"Opening with threats? Not the wisest course of action for one standing in my city."

"I'm just telling you what will happen."

"I don't think you understand how desperate you've made them."

"Fairly desperate I'd imagine, if they're talking to you. But it still won't work. With all the information we put into the public domain-."

"There are ways around that."

"In your day, certainly. In modern times, the internet-."

"I know what the internet is. Quite aside from the fact that I can come and go as I please, I've been sending geas-bound servants to wait on the members of the Caligula Club for decades." That would explain the loyalty. I'll have to check that, of course. "And they report back to me." She lowers her right hand. "The Masonic branch of their alliance will abandon the sybaritic part to assuage the public fury as easily as a salamander abandons its tail. They will then use the institutions of state to rebuild the nation in their image."

"Will they now."

"I'm sceptical. On the other hand, I only stand to benefit from Britain's disarray. If all contenders to the throne exhaust themselves fighting one another, it will be far easier for me to return, destroy those few who remain standing and take my rightful place as queen."

"Are you aware that the Queen of Britain is essentially a figurehead for an elected government?"

She holds out her left hand, green.. symbols forming in the air around it. "How long do you think it would take me to work around that restriction?"

Hm. I don't hate the idea. If I release what I have on the royal family, we could probably slide her into the job. She is British royalty. If she were appropriately advised-.

No no no. This isn't Kahndaq. Or Apokolips. We're not trying to create a ruling New God elite here, we're just trying to fix a few things. No subversion, nothing that would ruin our work if it came into the light. Circe has eaten humble pie, been significantly depowered and now she's making herself useful. Morgan just wants to seize control because it's what she does. For goodness sake, they still have serfdom here. This isn't a step forward.

"Long enough for Britain to unmask you." Queen Morgan makes a fist with her left hand as Lord Sheldrake decides to continue his confrontational approach. "But, alright; you could make things difficult. What do you want?"

"An open gateway; free passage between our worlds for myself and my retainers."

"We might-."

"I haven't finished." She looks out, past the causeway and into the city. "Artefacts of power and arcane lore. Particularly anything relating to-" Green fire appears around her hands for a moment. "-Merlin."

"We… Might be willing to trade. I can't promise you things I don't personally own."

"And an agreement that my daughter will marry into the royal family, in the fullness of time becoming queen."

Lord Sheldrake shakes his head, but I think I detect a faint smile. He's not taking that part seriously. "We don't organise-."

There's a tremendous crash from a tower on the far side of the causeway as its door explodes outwards, smashed from its moorings as a hobgoblin armsman goes sailing through it and off the battlement.

Through the resulting dust stalks Derek Kelly.

"Queen Morgan. You appear to be negotiating with the traitors. Would you care to explain why?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:09 GMT

Queen Morgan makes a small circling motion with her right hand, catching the projectile hobgoblin in a gust of air and conveying him safely back to ground level. Now, with conventional super strength that would be too little too late: the force of the blow alone would have mashed his organs. But Major Kelly works like Bruce Willis's character from Unbreakable; he isn't super strong all of the time, he just scales up to whatever obstacle is in his way. The hobgoblin is clearly hurt, but not mortally.

"Because this is my country and I do what I want here. And I do not approve of one of my guests assaulting my staff."

Lord Sheldrake inclines his head slightly. "Major Kelly."

Kelly glares in response. "Traitor. And Grayven. And the serial-killing fishmonger."

Faceoff raises his gun slightly. "Sir."

Queen Morgan bows her head slightly. "I may not know exactly what is happening on the other side of the gate, but I imagine that it's more of a concern to you than it is to me. And since I doubt that either of you would willingly offer me more than the other, we're at something of an impasse."

Kelly doesn't seem overly concerned. "Only until I kill them." I smile, and draw my daisho. "Your plot is already failing. Enough senior civil servants made it to well defended bunkers to maintain the government, and we're working on breaking Castle Baaleskine's defences. Once they've fallen, we'll notify the rest of the Security Council of your coup attempt and call in the Justice League to arrest you."

Got all the ministers, then. Well done Mr Head.

Lord Sheldrake holds up his empty hands. "Kelly, we don't have to kill anyone."

"It will be quicker if you don't resist. Do you really think for a moment I'd let an alien overthrow the British government and replace it with his puppets?"

"Kelly, have you seen what those people were doing?"

"Yes. And I've seen the Justice League's intelligence on Apokolips. I know which is worse."

"Those aren't the only-."

"Stop talking to me." He bends his legs slightly. "Your father was a good patriot. For his sake I'll make sure no one finds out what you did."

Lord Sheldrake raises his hands slightly in a gesture of appeal pointed at Queen Morgan. She tilts her head to the side. "Trial by combat is an accepted way of settling otherwise insoluble disagreements in Camelot. And I usually find it somewhat a..-" Her mask locks onto the Sword of the Fallen. "-musing. Where did you get that sword?"

I smile. "Right of Conquest, your majesty. I took it out of an enemy's hand and then decapitated him with it."

"Hmm." Her files say that she's a magic artefact magpie. And if you're not used to interfacing with Apokoliptian soul-based technology it is the most interesting thing here. Bit surprised she didn't notice it sooner. Ignoring the 'help' or was the sheath interfering with her exotic senses? "And where did he get it from?"

"John Constantine."

She doesn't say anything for over a minute, and I'm actually slightly concerned that Kelly is going to jump the gun and leap across. I'm confident that with power rings functioning I can beat him, but I'm not certain that Lord Sheldrake and Faceoff would survive the experience and I'd rather keep them alive.

"Is he any relation to Kon-Sten-Tyn?"

Lord Sheldrake looks from me to her. "Who is that?"

She continues to stare at me. "Do you know?"

I nod. "After Mordred and Arthur killed one another, Merlin was desperate for a king who would stand up for paganism against the encroaching Christian hordes. His second choice turned out to be a fellow by the name of Kon-Sten-Tyn. Decent swordsman and commander, and he had a rare talent for magic. But I don't think he can have been a direct ancestor; he ritually sacrificed both of his sons to extend his own life."

"No." Morgan sounds almost pleased. "Just those sons he sired on powerfully magical women. His mortal sons and daughters he left to their own devices." She leans forward slightly, as if imparting a great secret. "Do you know how he died?"

Um… Was a.. while ago I read that copy of Hellblazer. "Converted to Christianity as a ploy to corrupt the early church, ended up in a monastery with… Merlin's severed but still living head, and… Got carried off by a dragon and recognised as a minor saint?"

"Nearly. He took control of the dragon and flew here. His work done, he decided to sire a new son to kill and sacrifice. Instead, I sacrificed him, and the daughter he sired-" She glances at Morgana. "-lives still."

She's a Constantine?

Kelly leaps, covering the ten metres distance easily and landing lightly on the far side of the balcony. "Fascinating as I'm sure that is to people without anything better to do, I heard 'trial by combat' earlier. Can we start now?"

Queen Morgan stares imperiously at him. "I was going to offer my late lover's reanimated corpse to serve as your second. But if you're going to continue to abuse my hospitality, you can manage on your own."

"Yes. I can."

Faceoff raises his gun to his shoulder. "Go for it."

I shake my head. "Faceoff, he's invulnerable to conventional attack. That gun won't even distract him." I raise my eyebrows at Kelly. "How about we just make this one on one? I imagine that you want a rematch almost as much as I do."

"Actually, I don't care about you one way or the other. You're just another obstacle I have to kill."

I… What? "I… What? But I.. shoved you through that portal and injured you for the first time since you had that gem implanted."

"I'm a professional, not some American pro-wrestler. If you want histrionics then you should have stayed on the other side of the Atlantic."

That's it. Killing him. I'M A GOD YOU FUCK! DON'T TREAT ME LIKE A LOWLIE!

No. No, hang on. M'gann told me to be clear to the people around me about what I'm feeling and why. Otherwise, they can't stop being prats.

My smile probably doesn't look particularly genuine.

"I am mildly offended that you don't consider our previous fight special, but I will happily remind you of its significance. Lord Sheldrake, please step aside."

"But this won't solve anything. Whichever of you wins, all of the information is in the public domain. We already rescued people from the Caligula Club, and they'll be talking to everyone. You can't hush this up! The only way for Britain to keep working is for us to go with Grayven's plan and stop him if he turns out to be evil later."

Yeah, good luck with that, tin can man.

"No. It isn't. I'm going to kill him, then you and-" He glances at Faceoff. "-Darren." Oh, that's his name. "Then Queen Morgan is going to lend me her army and I'm going to defend my country. Get out of my way so you don't embarrass yourself."

I can hear Lord Sheldrake sigh. He walks aside. "Grayven, don't kill him if you can avoid it."

I breathe calmly in and out, eyes fixed on Kelly. "I'm not really sure how you plan on winning this. You got me before because your anti-weapon wards got my power rings. They work fine here, I've tested them. You can't fly."

"The only thing you've got that can hurt me is that sword."

"I'm reasonably confident that dropping you in a black hole counts as a 'win' for the purpose of this duel."

He reaches into one of his pockets with his right hand and pulls out a… Small stone? And crushes it to powder with his bare hand.

"A superior potential bearer has been detected." My yellow ring vanishes from my right hand with such force that it knocks my daiklave to the ground. "Identify yourself."

"Derek Kelly. Host of the Terror Thing."

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:13 GMT

Fear. I haven't felt fear like this since Father-. My Corpus is My Temple!

Grh.

My armour's tron lines shift to orange as for the first time since I got my orange personal lantern back I start running on a single ring. For his own part, Kelly manifests construct armour that appears to be made of eye clusters and gaping mouths as the Terror Thing tries to create a construct body for itself.

Balls.

I grab my daiklave from the ground. Alright, how do I win this? He's now as fast as m-

Kelly lunges, eyes glowing brilliant yellow inside the duller yellow construct monster enveloping him. I swing my daiklave as I fly directly upwards, a small portion of his nightmarish construct parting around the blade.

-e, and can generate constructs. And if that's the Terror Thing from Hellblazer then he's probably a more powerful Lantern than I am. On the plus side, my habit of using Sinestro more than my orange ring means that he's got slightly less power left than I do. And he's got no experience, so even with Sinestro advising him h-

A metre wide beam of yellow light blasts upwards towards me and I'm forced to desperately jink and weave and frankly cross my fingers. A few momentary glancing hits, but nothing my armour can't cope with.

-im I should find forming constructs easier. I switch to lateral motion, giving him the worst possible angle for his shots as I fly over Camelot. Assuming that he can think clearly enough to even form constructs with the Terror Thing inside him. That said, if the thing survived an encounter with John Constantine it can't be completely stupid. I don't.. really remember what happened to it in the comics and I never thought to look into it here.

Ping.

Yes, okay, that's obvious now, but-.

There's another flare of yellow light behind me, and I look back to see Kelly lumber into the air with giant wing-constructs projecting from his back.

Hah. If Sinestro thought that I was bad, I can only imagine what he's saying to someone who creates constructs in order to fly.

Fly… Ah, fairly fast, actually. Mother Box?

Ping.

Boom tube.

Ping.

I watch as he comes on, his construct skin becoming more streamlined as he gets some sort of control over his ring. MY ring. Hm, probably won't work but I may as well try… I sheathe my daiklave, draw a blaster and shoot it at his left construct wing. Burn!

A bright yellow barrier manifests for exactly the half a second it needs in order to block my shot, allowing Kelly to continue flying at me untroubled by the attack. I risk another shot -same effect-, then step through the tube back onto the balcony and shut it down.

"Grayven-."

I return my blaster to its holster then raise my right hand to cut Lord Sheldrake off. Right, his wing constructs might be strong, but they didn't look agile. My original plan for dealing with Kelly involved slicing through his spine from behind, then digging the Eye of Zoltec out of him from behind while his arms were paralysed. And if I could still use the Garrick Formula I'd still give it a stab. But with access to constructs he can bypass his own spine to control his body or just grab me with construct arms. Construct arms would be less dangerous, of course…

What's Kelly up to?

Heh, he's looking for me with his eyes. He seemed to be the intelligent sort before. Is the Terror Thing making him more bestial? How-? Ah, there he goes. Monstrous construct eyes manifesting around him and locking onto me almost immediately. An FTL jammer might give me a cheap kill, but he doesn't seem like he's the sort to go for it. No, he's wheeling in the air and flying back. Twenty seconds, boom tube now.

Ping.

I run to the place where Kelly crushed his stone and scoop up as much as I can before diving through the tube, returning to my original location moments before Kelly slams into the balcony. And… Back to flying away from the city. And… Go for height as well. I want to see what this world looks like when taken in the round.

Kelly spots me almost immediately and… I generate gravity impeller constructs and accelerate away. I'll burn though power a little quicker… I pull my blaster back out of its holster and fire it directly back at him. He blocks each shot, but doing so is costing him ring power and only costs me blaster battery.

Modern Camelot is a decent sized place, by the standards set by their technology. And it's actually enclosed in a fortified wall. Makes me wonder if hobgoblins are used as labourers-. No, if that were the case I doubt that proto-union dispute Lord Sheldrake stuck his oar in on would have been resolvable in quite that fashion. They'd be good at open cast mining, but they're not exactly made for narrow tunnels.

The land beneath me is forested, and in other directions I can see fields crossed with roads. No tarmac, of course, but stone paved in the Roman style rather than the dirt tracks which historically characterised Britain's highways until the establishment of turnpike trusts during the nineteenth century. I suppose it's like Themyscira; they may have only primitive technologies but they've had all the time in the world and -given that the same woman is in charge- none of the social upheavals that would undermine infrastructure construction efforts.

I glance back and ah. Kelly has realised that he doesn't need to block attacks with constructs when he can just as easily block them with his body. An added set of dragonfly wings allows him to easily viff and keep his main source of thrust out of the line of fire. Distance between us appears to be slowly decreasing, but since I'm not 'fleeing' so much as 'running down the clock' the fear that might otherwise have come from a slowly-gaining unstoppable menace just isn't coming. Alright, he doesn't appear to be jamming FTL himself, so is a backstab actually possible? Leave that for plan b. Ring, analyse the stone dust I picked up.

Material is granite. Minor physical anomalies from expected material behaviour. Unable to identify source.

Magic?

Unable to confirm.

Fair enough. Hm. Alright. assimilate-.

"RAAAAGH!" Two construct arms -one a distorted human arm with eight fingers and the other a mass of mutating tentacles- rush towards me from Kelly! The hand snatches at me and I'm forced to roll in the air, losing forward acceleration in exchange for lateral motion! The long nail of the fourth finger scrapes along my armour, and my construct engines shimmer and weaken at its touch. And now he's gaining, marvellous. The arm curls back towards me, growing a fourth elbow as it does so. Ugh. I take a firm grip on the Sword of the Fallen, voluntarily reduce my speed further so as to make it overshoot and slash at its wrist. The construct frays from the stab and fades slightly-.

And the tentacle mass starts wrapping itself around my legs.

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:16 GMT

I make another wild slash at the arm construct while I form buzz saw constructs and rather urgently try slicing through the strands wrapping themselves around my calves. The tendrils themselves are being projected from the centre of a circular and richly-fanged maw and.. given how resilient they're proving to be, I'm not eager to test their strength against my armour! Two sets of jaw-rings undulate and clamp against themselves in eagerness as the tendrils begin pulling me in!

I bend, grabbing a probing tendril with my right hand and very carefully slicing through it with the Sword of the Fallen. Hopefully these are all part of one large construct and it will-. No, it's a cluster of separate ones. Fast, stab, stab and pull! The construct tethers part, fraying and failing as I come free. I start to pull away from the monstrous maw once more, and turn away-.

The remains of the monstrous hand strike me full in the face, smashing me back into the mouths. Immediately, the teeth penetrate my environmental shield and start grating against my armour. I twist, wedging myself in the mouth tube with my feet pressed against the far side and my back against the other. Fine, my constructs aren't top quality. Let's see you overpower super strength!

More tendrils rise from the interior as the mouth extends above me, blocking my view of the exterior world. I stab with the Sword, slashing at the mouth's interior and severing the tendrils before they can get a grip on me. That done, I repeatedly stab at the interior of the mouth! Come on, fail, damn you!

The mouth undulates, attempting to draw me further inside. Ugh, I'm not even sure which way I want to go. Kelly must have caught up by now and there isn't actually a stomach down there. It's just-.

The mouth clamps down in all directions, new teeth sprouting and through the slashes I've already made I can see additional mass being added from the exterior. He's not trying to drag me anywhere, he's just going to use this construct to crush me!

Mrghh! Bracing girder construct. Mother Box, any chance of a boom tube?

Ping.

I don't think he'll be so generous. Ring, is FTL an option?

Yellow light presence too great for transition. Warp is available, but unwise.

AgH! The teeth underneath my back just.. spiked through into my skin. The ones pushing at my feet I can just kick to mist but my back is anchored in place. It hurts, and it'll only get worse as they push through my flesh. Fortunately, I'm tough all of the way through so it won't be quick, and if I twist-. Good, gone for the moment.

Raw construct force isn't-

The girder construct moans and starts to fracture.

-going to work here, so let's try something more orange. What sort of overlord doesn't have a giant monster in the basement? Ring, assimilate.

Identity theft in progress.

The yellow light around me dims as orange light filters into its structure. A little of the pressure falls away as the fact that I don't want to be eaten at all becomes more of a factor and the fact that some of the mason's victims were afraid of being eaten matters less. Hah, hooray for weaker constructs. And… Stab there and there, sheathe the Sword and grab and pull!

The side of the gullet comes apart, revealing a mess of mutant construct flesh, monstrous eyes and tiny arms and insect feelers. Right, grab. Ring, keep assimilating. Aerodiscs to full and GET OUT OF MY WAY!

Eyes burst, flesh is rent and the construct starts to collapse around me! As I start to gain momentum I reach down with my left hand to grab the Sword and thrust it ahead of me, cutting through the yellow construct and bursting through into the open air! I Stand Triumphant!

Very much better out than in. Mother Box, boom huruughh!

"Hello, Grayven."

Kelly's right hand is around my throat and slowly squeezing! I move my left arm to stab him with the Sword but he just grabs my left hand with his own. Guhh. It's not fast, but he will rip my head off like this. Ring, assimilate.

Unable to establish connection.

Transition?

Unable to comply.

Ring, make any progress with the dust?

Task suspended.

This is what I get for using Sinestro for everything for so long. Uhk! Assimilate that!

Energy absorption in progress.

"Urugh. R-hah." Kelly grins as he starts to push my left hand back towards me. "I don't know what you're doing, but it won't be enough. It's never taken me more than a minute to crush a man's throat."

Assimilate faster! I Stand Firm!

By your command.

The pouch containing the crushed stone shines brilliant orange for several seconds, and I feel Kelly's grip actually weaken.

"You're already… You're already in my grip. Banish the Terror Thing and you still can't get away.

"Ooh 're oo tr'n oo cnvnce?"

Because dangerous though this situation clearly is, I'm… Actually not afraid. All those fears in the Terror Thing are making the constructs strong, but my own aren't adding to it. Ring, radio Lord Sheldrake. Message: got any banishment gear?

Message sent.

"The Terror Thing is a mindless weapon. It serves me, now, and your weak attempt to damage our link won't stop me."

Oh no it isn't and oh no it doesn't and oh yes it will. Mother Box, boom tube behind him.

Ping.

BOOM.

A fraction of a second with less than total attention on me and I turn my left hand, release the Sword and pass it to my right.

And then I swing it through his right wrist.

And breathe! I gulp down fresh air while tossing aside the still gripping severed hand. He's backing off in the air even as I try a swing for his head and miss. Damn, he's wearing Sinestro on his left! Press on!

The Sword pierces Lynne's face-. No, it's just a construct blugh!

Kelly punches me with his remaining hand, generates another giant construct hand and throws me towards the ground!

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:18 GMT

The shockwave of my landing probably ruins the field, but I ignore my surroundings in favour of cutting through the construct hand's fingers with the Sword. This was either a rushed job or powered by his own fears; it's human in shape and after the initial grab-and-slap didn't exert much force on me. It's just trying to keep me down rather than do anything likely to cause me lasting damage. Two fingers and it fails completely, letting me get to my feet.

Let's see… Engines, girder, a couple of assimilation attempts… Ring, how are we doing for power?

Ninety three percent remaining.

And those giant constructs must have cost him more than that. So as long as I nobble him if he tries to get my yellow lantern out to recharge… Would that occur to him? If the bloody Sinestro program required me to kill Green Lanterns, become a tyrant or achieve enlightenment then he-.

I dodge violently as a beam of yellow energy bursts through the clouds of dirt and blasts into the ground! Yes, yes! Burn power. Ring, can we tell how much he has left?

Assuming that he has not recharged since the fight began, his construct usage should leave him with around seventy percent full charge.

Uh. I'm not eager to get eaten another three times. Something else, then.

A hail of smaller yellow light bolts home in on my position, though not all that accurately. I hesitate to dodge, experimentally letting one hit me in the chest before I start an evasive pattern. Auh. Punched through my environmental shield easily enough, but my armour stopped it and it didn't sap my orange light effects. So: don't want to get hit by a whole -ow- swarm, but one or two aren't a problem.

Why aren't they all hitting?

Okay, yes; constructs can be a light speed weapon, but even a powerful lantern will usually only fire energy bolts at a couple of times the speed of sound. But even at that speed he's not that far away from me. I should be getting hit by most of these rather than the odd one. So why aren't I?

The dust is diffusing the orange glow around me. It doesn't matter how many construct eyes you've got if none of them can see your target. He's still not scanning. I create a humanoid construct of me and dim my environmental shield and yes, most of the shots start aiming at that instead of me. I have it stumble and big beam! Immediately I dim my environmental shield further, and hope that the additional dirt thrown into the air will conceal what's left.

Ring, passive detection only. Let me know if he calls the lantern.

By your command.

But what now? The Terror Thing is inhabiting his whole body. There's no one target I can strike to destroy it or banish it. Disabling him in one hit when his constructs are strong enough to hurl me back is a pipedream at best-.

Message received from Lord Sheldrake.

Kelly doesn't seem to be taking the bait, though I can see the yellow glow marking his location. Play.

I've got a charmed knife, but I doubt that it would pierce Major Kelly's skin. Do you need it?

Ah, for access to a hush tube. Response: get ready to pass it to me.

Message sent.

I might get a stab. But I'd have to hit his brain to neutralise him… Or would that just result in me fighting the Terror Thing? Or… I don't know exactly where in his body they stuck the Right Eye of Zoltec. I doubt that it would be in his arms or legs, so… Somewhere in his chest. It would make his organs invulnerable to being cut by its sharp edges so he wouldn't have to worry about that. … No, there are just too many places it could be for me to be able to reliably hit it. And I'm not sure what would happen if I did.

I'm.. coming up short here. Actually invulnerable people are a pain to fight. Another super tough lantern and I'd put my faith in my regenerative abilities in a high magic environment, but like this…

The Kelly blur glows brighter for a moment, and then yellow lights start shining from all around me. Some sort of.. construct warrior? I hope so, that would be a decent drain on his reserves. But if he's sending infantry in, I need to get out.

Think think think. It's still dark, there were woods over there and I'm not glowing significantly. Agh, no, can't transition with the Sword and I can't risk leaving it-. No, wait. A subterranean tunnel. I could transition myself, construct-tunnel back and drag it-. No, no, too risky. This sword can kill me far more easily than it can kill him.

Okay, got it. Two flying hologram generators. Send one towards the searchers that way projecting a faint orange me-shape. Are they reacting? Slightly, but there aren't any incoming shots yet. Fine. Boom tube behind him in two, one, now and send the second one through. I see the yellow light blast which destroys the projector, but the first holodrone is flying up through the dust while I use my aerodiscs to get as high as I dare…

Another yellow beam and he's looking in the wrong direction and gogogo! Move the boom tube to Lord Sheldrake and transmit 'throw it'! I fly at Kelly full speed, the weird translucent-monster-body-part armour he's coating himself with spotting me just a little too late. I lunge Sword first, piercing his defensive construct and slicing open his back… Think I severed his spine, not that he needs the use of his legs.

"A-urh."

Knife incoming.

Kelly's right hand is glowing as he manoeuvres away from me. I drop past him in the air, a construct reaching for the inbound knife as I slash at him again. I hit.. something, I can't really see as he fires a big beam at point blank rangeow-grrr-gahrrr-gah! That hurt, and I can feel the air against the left side of my body where the armour was burned away. But now I'm going to get him. Lunge.

He backs off again and puts up a barrier of cancerous tentacles. Which is fine. I flare with orange light to disguise my intent, dropping the Sword and leaving it to be conveyed by construct. To hold his attention I start striking the barrier with my bare fists. No Bastion Will Withstand Me!

I'm actually knocked back as the force of my punch overwhelmed both aerodisc and ring flight aura. Wrong approach of course. Rip and tear is the way. I grab and yank and the barrier starts to fail. Come on Kelly, you're the strongest weapon you have. Yes, good, he's coming back and preparing another beam.

Double backstab.

The construct-controlled Sword of the Fallen stabs him again, parting otherwise invulnerable construct and flesh. The blade then turns to widen the wound to allow Lord Sheldrake's knife to pierce Kelly as well.

And ring? Finish assimilating the crushed stone.

By your command.

"GRRAAAAAGHHH!"

This time I back away slightly, recalling the Sword of the Fallen but leaving the knife in place. Now focus on the-.

Absorption complete.

Kelly gasps, a disturbingly death rattle like sound as yellow mists violently exits his body, swirling around before clumping together above me to my right. Kelly shudders as the yellow light everywhere else flickers and fails. Ring's still on his finger, but without the Terror Thing-.

"Freeeeeeee!"

Ah. The Terror Thing.

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:20 GMT

It's not yellow this time.

No, it's using its stored arcane power to generate a meat body. Or-. No, it's manifesting one, pulling itself into the material universe and switching its magic form for a fleshy one as it does so. Its surface is a mismatch of parts of the things its involuntary creators were afraid of: pallid, muscular flesh, a almost cartoonish version of a cancerous growth, the eyes of insects and imaginary demons. And other parts, things which could not be part of a living creature. I see brambles, rotting fish, razor sharp tin cans and I'm going to stop looking at it directly now.

The important parts are that it's growing and that Kelly is no longer supercharged.

"Ah-aaargh!"

And he still has a knife in his back.

I lunge at him again and he just about manages to dodge, my slash slicing through his mouth and the side of his face rather than piercing his brain.

And then the smell hits me. Burnt flesh -my own burnt flesh from the Thanagarian command carrier- and composting vegetative matter and human sweat and urine-. Ring, environmental shield to full.

By your command.

No, the smell's still there. Magic, then.

Kelly creates another Lynne construct, but that only really worked because I was surprised. I grab it around the head and crush it, then lunge again-.

Right into a construct of my father. Yes, him I'm afraid of, but even a strong construct doesn't have his advantages. One stab and he's disintegrating to nothing, then Kelly flies at me through the resulting yellow mist, his hands outstretched to grab my head!

I block with a construct shield and swing the Sword of the Fallen across his stomach. He shudders as his intestines begin slipping from the wound, but he still appears somewhat coherent. My shield fractures under his grip as I make a second slash at right angles to the first.

Then I stick my left hand into the resulting wound, grab a handful of organ meat and pull.

You know? It's not as bad when it belongs to someone else.

"GAAAAAAHH!"

But I haven't got the Eye, and the exterior wound is already closing up. Must have been implanted higher up. Kelly forms jet engine constructs and thrusts away RAGHH! Fuck! My armour took the thrust fine, but the left of my body isn't armoured right now and that really hurt! I try lifting my left arm but -ow- while I can I doubt it would take any weight.
Heal.
"Terror Thing!"
Heal.
Kelly has flown up in front of a major eye cluster, and it appears to be focusing on him. What's that fool trying to do now? It's clearly not going to fit back inside him.
Heal.
"I am your master!" Says the man whose boots are covered in his own shit. "You will obey me!"
Heal.
"I think not."
Heal.
Huh. Looks like some of those mouths can talk.

"I think-" Kelly reaches into one of his upper equipment pouches and pulls out-.

Wait, that's not it, is it? The Eye? I mean, okay, I couldn't check what the Blacks said about the chirurgery, but a pouch? That's a good way to lose it.

"-you'll change-."

I draw my blaster and shoot it. He catches sight of my motion and puts up a barrier, but right now he isn't using the Terror Thing's boost or channelling his own fears effectively. The barrier fails, and he doesn't quite get his body in the way fast enough to prevent the bolt hitting… I think it hit? Can't get a clear look.

"ByThePowerOfZoltecYouWillObeyMe!"

An uneven field of green light shines out from-. Right, need to do something about that. I form impeller nodes and blast towards him. Ribs, this time. The light shining onto the Terror Thing appears to be causing a couple of its pupils to dilate, but I'm not seeing any other change.

But just in case…

Kelly evades, a chunk of intestine falling off as his regeneration really gets going. Fine, don't care: without a supercharger and with less power than me I can kill him whenever. No, time to put the Sword of the Fallen to its intended purpose again. I Am Unstoppable!

I strike the Terror Thing… Well, some of its eyes and burst them apart, then carry on to its insides. Feh, yuk. Since this target isn't invulnerable, I lash out wildly, horribly coloured meat being sundered in all directions. I don't know if this thing has any sort of core for me to stab, but my best bet is probably to head towards the approximate centre of the mass. I Am Indefatigable!

"Weak creature of flesh, coming inside me-"

Father/Bill putting his hand/waving his cleaver on my shoulder/through another victim-. Feeble effort, beast.

"-only makes me stronger!"

Some sort of fear-magic. If I wasn't a god and in the process of cutting its innards out that might have made me feel quite unwell. If it had a power ring to back it up, I might have been forced out by a blast of yellow light. But my fears weren't used to create it, so the best it can do isn't good enough. In fact, now that I look I can intuit the magics holding together the various fear-filled delusions which make up the Terror Thing. I change from slashing wildly to slicing through them, and almost immediately I can feel the Thing start to weaken as the Sword's magics start neutralising it.

"You're small! You're weak!"

There's a point of convergence, the central knot holding it together as a unified being.

"All will cower before their innermost-!"

"I AM NOT SOME DEMENTED, TERRIFIED CHILD HELD AT THE MERCY OF THEIR OWN DELUSIONS!" FALL!

STABSTABSTAB!

"I AM A GOD!" FALL!

I strike the nexus, and it evaporates!

"RRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

"NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY!" NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY!

Meat explodes away from me, a titanic geyser of the Terror Thing's physical manifestation raining down across the blasted countryside. I'm grinning as I make eye contact with Kelly. "Would you like to yield now?"

"Never."

His left hand glows yellow-.

"A superior potential bearer has been detected."

Kelly has the presence of mind to keep his hand in a fist so that the ring can't physically leave him, but his flight aura gutters and fails. He tumbles in the air, falling towards the ground-

Lunge,

-and the Sword of the Fallen pierces the back of his skull.

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:23 GMT
Heal.
Aaaaaand rest.
Heal.
I ignore the shuddering lumps of mutant flesh all around us as I lay Kelly on the ground on his front. The locals will have the sense not to eat that, won't they? Queen Morgan probably knows plenty about the safe disposal of formerly-living arcane components, and… Heck, Morgana said that was one of the things they wanted from trade with us.
Heal.
Ow.
Heal.
I'm bleeding from wounds in my back, and parts of the upper left side of my body are oozing. Not sure whether it's liquefied body fat, blood, or just ultra-tenderised body tissue suspended in pus. And I'm not going to check. Better just to bear the pain until I heal.
Heal.
I.. think.. maybe Mortalla can take bedtime story-reading duties tonight.
Heal.
I gingerly kneel down and pull Lord Sheldrake's knife from Kelly's back. The wound starts healing almost immediately. It was a bit of a long shot that he put it in his brain… Right. I pull the Sword of the Fallen out of his skull and shove the knife into the wound. I'm not.. sure that the Eye of Zoltec won't just consume it, but it should buy me a little time. Then I roll him onto his back.
Heal.
The yellow power ring bumps again into my right hand.
Heal.
"Corpsman-."
Heal.
"Oh, I'm your Corpsman now, am I?" I take a firm grip on the Sword and shove it into Kelly's manubrium. "Because it looked like I was a fling."
Heal.
"I programmed this ring to seek out people who inspired great fear. Major Kelly's use of that.. elemental creature misled-."
Heal.
"No, it didn't." I start hacking down Kelly's chest as blood pours from the wound. "It acted entirely in accordance with its programming. The Terror Thing was made of fear, and was far better at inflicting it than I am. It was literally made to do just that. And Kelly was close to your ideal follower: ruthless, loyal, selfless and determined. It did exactly what you meant it to."
Heal.
"Am I to take it that you are no longer interested in the use of my ring?"
Heal.
"You're to take it-" I stab the Sword into his spine and pull his ribs apart. It takes effort, but the Sword appears to be weakening his invulnerability enough to make it possible. "-like you should come up with a very good reason why I shouldn't switch over to using two orange rings." Now to start.. feeling around inside him.
Heal.
"That would be inefficient. The only benefit would be an expanded charge pool."
Heal.
Ah! A hard surface. Faceted. About twenty centimetres along its longest axis.
Heal.
"I value you for your experience. I'd still get that if you were a construct, I could focus my training on using the orange light and I wouldn't risk you going over to my enemy to give them a fighting chance ever again."
Heal.
Now, do I want to kill Kelly? Well, yes, obviously, but is that the most sensible thing to do in this situation?

I'm trying to convince Lord Sheldrake and company to go along with me, and I rather think that an uncharacteristic show of mercy… No, clemency, would be to my advantage. Without the Eye he's a negligible threat to me…
Heal.
I take a firmer grip on the Eye with my left hand and tug it from its mooring tissue without quite removing it from contact with him. Then I use my right hand to remove the Sword from the wound, returning it to its scabbard. Next, I reach for the knife in his skull and remove that as well. The last step is to carefully move the Eye to his exterior without breaking contact with his body.
Heal.
Huh. I'm actually starting to feel a little better myself. Kelly's father demonstrated the ability to share his resilience with people he touched. I suppose that I'm benefiting from its regenerative properties as well. I hold it pressed against his forehead with my left hand and sit back to watch his injuries knit themselves back together.
Heal.
"I suppose that two beings whose interests aren't identical can never completely trust one another."

"Oh don't even." His spilt blood appears to be more or less evaporating, and I hear a soft click as his sternum reconnects. "I'm using fear and establishing order and if you had any problem with the general direction of my activities you never mentioned it. As far as I know, that's what you want. Is it? Or is there some other cause you have neglected to mention?"

"I.. do believe that fear is the most efficacious way to establish order. You used fear as a tool. You do not have it as the centrepiece of your strategy."

"Do you think that Kelly would?"

"Inevitably, yes. Regardless of his initial thoughts, his bond with the Terror Thing would lead to him seeing the world in a particular way. If he followed my advice he would not have become completely monstrous, but he would have fit the mould I had for an ideal Corpsman rather better than you."

"Ah. Honesty." Kelly's chest is now in one piece, his severed hand is back, and.. head wound nearly gone. Just a moment or two more. "But you're missing something rather important."

"That you won?"

"Partially. And that I'm not your Corpsman. I'm not your soldier. As the only yellow ring wielder I was the Corps. I have to be able to take command level decisions with a clear mind. Raw fear-power might make me a better fighter, but it does not make me a more effective operative or leader. Some fear keeps people motivated. All of the fear and nothing else just paralyses them."

"I do not believe that I agree."

"Did Sinestro Fifty create you to empower someone who would carry on fighting Green Lanterns after his death, or was the plan to recruit more supporters for his anti-Green Lantern crusade? Did he program you in the expectation that he would still be around, or not?"

"I have instructions to follow in his absence, but… Now that I look, some of his criteria make slightly more sense if viewed through the lens of a man recruiting followers. Might I ask a question in return?"

Kelly looks like he's more or less in one piece. I pick up the Eye of Zoltec and put it into one of my equipment pouches. Not sure what I'm going to do with it in the longer term. Invulnerability is nice, but I'm already very tough so in most circumstances the gain isn't all that great. But giving it to someone squishy like Lex… Or Lynne, or Miss Shimmer… Or if Queen Morgan is having the same problem with immortality that the Justice League Animated version had…

"Uuuuugrh…"

I grab Kelly with my right hand and put him onto my right shoulder. "Certainly." Now, where did that other gem he was waving around end up?

Location available.

"Do you intend to train more yellow ring users?"

"I don't have strong feelings on the subject." I stride over to the other jewel… Yes, I can see where the blaster hit it. One of the corners is gone, but the effect hasn't spread. Into another pouch it goes. "If there was someone I trusted, someone I thought would do good work with it, and they weren't compatible with an orange ring… Then yes, I would see about getting another yellow ring for them. What makes you ask?"

"In the absence of my originator, I think… Furthering the cause of the yellow light is something I… Wish to do. Having that opportunity will also reduce my need to jump onto the first fearsome finger I come across."

"Not unreasonable, and if you'd mentioned any of this ahead of time I'd have been happy to grant your request. As it is…"

"I have some significant ground to make up."

"To say the least."

"Then… I suppose that I will simply have to accept your decision." He bumps into my right finger again.

"I haven't heard an apology yet."

"Were you expecting to?"

Hah. I open my right hand and allow him to settle on my ring finger. "I suppose not. Mother Box. Boom tube."

 

[Mr Zoat]

26th October
23:27 GMT

I stride purposefully back through the portal, Kelly draped over my shoulder. Lord Sheldrake gives me a mildly relieved nod, and easily catches his knife as I toss it back to him. I then anchor Kelly in place with my right hand and bow to Queen Morgan.

"Your majesty. Major Kelly is unable to con-" His right hand weakly slaps against the side of my face. "-tinue." It slaps me again. "In any meaningful way. Would you be so good as to call the duel?"

She takes a moment to examine Kelly, who can barely coordinate his limbs let alone offer meaningful resistance. "You stand victorious, Grayven. As per the terms of your agreement with Major Kelly, I will not intervene on his masters' side in your conflict." She tilts her head a little to the left. "I am a little surprised that you allowed him to live."

"He defines himself as being a loyal soldier. Once it's clear that his concerns about me were unwarranted, I imagine that he will be willing to serve the next government with all of the vigour that he served this one. If n-." Uk, his hand's gone in my mouth. I remove it. "If not, he's easy enough to kill now."

"What was that creature he summoned?"

"It was called the Terror Thing."

"I heard him name it. I want to know its nature."

"Essentially… Get a large group of people who are obsessively, dementedly afraid of something and draw their fears out with magic and store them in a standing stone circle. Given enough time, those fears will merge into a creature like that. His masters were experimenting with using it as a weapon, directing its madness with a minor wizard. They had some success, but given the resources it required I don't think it was worth it."

"It is not possible to draw out a person's fears cleanly. Such a creature would inevitably take more than they were willing to give it at every turn."

I nod. "Just so."

Lord Sheldrake walks up besides me. "Are we permitted to leave?"

"But of course, my lord." Huh. That's surprisingly-. "Do you know how?"

Ah.

He just nods. "I can't say that I'm entirely surprised that you're not going to let us go back-."

"Oh no, Lord Sheldrake. I wouldn't dream of stopping you. You came in peace, and something approaching honesty. You will come to no harm by my hand."

"But you won't help."

"If you require my assistance, I may be persuaded."

Ping.

No, no. We can't hold their hands all the time. But well done.

Ping.

Lord Sheldrake takes a slow breath. "On behalf of the incoming British Government-" There's a slight shift in Queen Morgan's posture. "-I would like to take this opportunity to establish open diplomatic relations with your kingdom."

"It isn't a separate kingdom. It's just the part of Britain which remained loyal to its queen."

"Alright. I understand that's your position. But The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland doesn't share it, and I'm sure that you know that. You've fought the Justice League before, haven't you?"

"I.. have."

"And you lost. Do you honestly think that your chances of ever becoming queen in fact would be better or worse for having peaceful diplomatic relations with my country?"

"Are you actually going to make me an offer, or just bombard me with empty threats?"

"Peaceful diplomatic relations and trade. Modern Britain knows next to nothing about magic, and the new government is going to want input from friends who know how to cover that weakness. We'd much rather have a friendly neighbour than worry about being attacked by teleporting hobgoblins or an immortal archmage or those.. Morris men. If you want something magical from Earth, buy it or trade for it, or negotiate to use it. You don't need to demand it by force, not when no one is threatening your own kingdom."

"I would have freedom to come and go as I please?"

"Within reason. Foreign heads of state are free to visit whenever they like. But we would consider it an abuse of our hospitality if you did any of those things which led to you fighting the Justice League last time."

"And when could I meet your new ruler?"

"We're not-." Lord Sheldrake straightens slightly, then half-turns towards me. "What are you planning to do with Queen Elizabeth?"

"That's up to her. I will be dropping in on her shortly. Though it may amuse you to know that Princess Margaret's conversion to Catholicism was tied to her genuine repentance for her involvement with the people we'll be removing. And her branch of the family have rather cleared themselves up."

He considers that for a moment, then returns his attention to Queen Morgan. "We should have a new Prime Minister in place in three months. I'm sure whoever it is will be happy to receive you, in the name of ongoing peaceful relations."

"Adequate. Barely."

I smile. "I'll also throw in several tonnes of manifested fear elemental flesh. I'm sure that a magic user of your calibre can find a use for it."

"Now that is a little more interesting. Would the Marble Arch entrance be acceptable?"

"No, not necessary. Mother Box?"

"Ping."

BOOM!

Lord Sheldrake's head jerks in my direction. "You-?" His jaw tenses, then he returns his attention to Queen Morgan. "That you for your hospitality, your majesty. I'll see to it that a proper envoy is sent through once we've got things settled down." He bows, then heads through the boom tube. Face-. Darren takes no last looks around, gives his head a small exasperated shake and then follows Lord Sheldrake. I smile brightly at Queen Morgan, then-.

"Grayven. What is your title? I presume that you have one?"

"My father granted me the title 'Suzerain of Earth'. I don't really use it."

She makes a quiet 'hm' noise, but doesn't offer further comment. I suppose… This iteration of Morgan le Fay is surprisingly rational… Buuuut I've already got a Circe, and if Britain can build a working relationship with her by themselves… I don't want to have to do all the work during the uplift process.

I give her and Morgana a cheerful wave, then walk through the portal myself.

And promptly close it afterwards. We're at Speakers Corner, which at this time of night is pretty much deserted. Lord Sheldrake-.

"Exactly how long did you have an exit portal ready?"

"About a minute. Might I say that I was quite impressed by how calmly you were dealing with Queen Morgan?"

"I don't often get the opportunity to talk my enemies down like that. And it would be a pretty sorry state of affairs if I was more violent than you."

Darren looks around. "I can't hear any fighting. What's next?"

Sinestro?

Update available, C-. Lantern Grayven.

Mmm. Good news all around. "Check in with one or two people, then… BBC News Twenty Four, I think."

 

[Mr Zoat]

27th October
00:03 GMT

There's no sign on the door. No sign on the fence. Even the building number is concealed by the shape of the entrance. Nothing to indicate that this property is unique or special. But with the front of the upper two floors torn out I can see the decorations, prominently featuring the vaguely phallic symbol the.. Invisible Magi or whatever they call themselves use to represent their cult. I can see what look like ritual rooms. And with a little effort, I can see the last moments of members who failed in their duties.

Don't see any charred skeletons, which is a bit odd.

BOOM!

Another tube opens to another holding cell, and a g-troll picks up a resisting magus and gently throws him through while a growing crowd watches. I knew it was the case, but it still depresses me slightly that they were all Caucasian men. Haven't we got to the point that our ancient evil conspiracies feel that they can include other ethnicities? Even the Skull and Bones let women in these days.

I amble over to where Mister Talbot is watching proceedings with a transfixed intensity. "Any get away?"

"Of course not."

"Any dead?"

"One managed to slit his own throat. Bled to death before we could get to him. But as operations go, I'd say that it went rather well."

I make a point of looking puzzled. "You didn't kill any of them?"

His eyes turn my way for a moment before returning to the line of genomorph-guarded magicians. "No. While Mister Doom assures me that they are perfectly competent ritualists, none of them were a physical threat to me."

"Yes?"

"The British police service only uses lethal force in response to an imminent threat to life. We do not do it merely because it would be satisfying, or because an alleged criminal fails to obey an instruction promptly. I will not break the law in that regard. If they had had time to summon a demon, then my hand may have been forced. As it was, I believe that I will derive an even greater satisfaction from watching their trials and convictions than I would from simply snuffing them out."

I shrug. "As you like."

"I'm surprised that you disapprove. Sir Cyril told me that Major Kelly is still alive, and you had a personal vendetta against him."

"I'm the one who will have to sell this to the Justice League. And my eyes grew back. What they did-." I cut myself off. He knows perfectly well what they did to him.

His left forefinger moves to his right ring finger, stroking his wedding ring and power ring in a single motion. "Joanie can watch from heaven as these bastards are tried, convicted and hanged."

"Reinstating the death penalty?"

"The British people have wanted the death penalty back since it was abolished. Never wanted it done away with, actually. And this mess will only cement that support. We can put the relevant legislation through in the Bill authorising the special trials."

"And the retroactive changing of the penalty for a crime that's already been committed."

"No, some crimes still carry the death penalty. It just can't be carried out." His eyes move to the boom tube. "You are certain that they can't kill themselves in there?"

"The g-gnomes are perfectly capable of suppressing self-destructive-."

"Never thought I'd-"

Mister Talbot's head jerks around as soon as he hears the voice, and mine isn't much slower.

"-see the bleeding day."

A g-gnome's horns shimmer and a g-troll lumbers forwards, reaches into the crowd and picks up John Constantine.

"Shoulda seen that c-." Mister Constantine blinks as he sees Mister Talbot clearly. "Geoff?"

"Mister Constantine. Turning up like a bad penny, I see."

"I thought you were dead. You were in Geotroniks when Webster-."

"Yes, I do remember. Pure bloody luck that the armed response unit didn't shoot me, but I survived. And while I wouldn't say I prospered-" He clenches his right fist to show Mister Constantine his power ring. "-in your absence, I have been given the opportunity to strengthen my hand."

Mister Constantine exhales, his right hand-. Oh, he dropped his cigarette when the g-troll appropriated him. "Fuck me. Do you think you actually got all of them?"

"The vast majority. Have you seen-" He inclines his head towards me. "-Mister Grayven's evidence file?"

"No." Mister Constantine glances at me impassively. "He didn't send me a copy."

I shrug. "I put it all online, Mister Constantine. Maybe you should look into getting a computer, so you can look things like that up?"

He looks away from me, towards the slowly moving line as another-

BOOM!

-member of the Somewhat Less Secret Now Magi is sent through.

"Looks like you've got it covered. 'Course, there might be a bit of a problem about who's running the country now."

"Jasmine Abbott, whose hands are remarkably clean. And Queen Elizabeth, whom I'll be talking to at a slightly more civilised hour. Would you like to come along?"

"God, no." He looks around again. "Looks like I picked the right friggin' time to leave the c-."

The street shoots downwards as I'm dragged upwards at speed. It's-. Ah, yes.

"Kal-El-." Oh, he won't be able to hear a thing with the wind this strong. Sinestro, contact his radio.

Contact established, Lantern Grayven.

"Kal-El, that was totally unnecessary and unproductive." He releases his hold and stops in the air, allowing me to go flying for a half-second until my flight aura takes hold. Hm, mid Atlantic? He does not look impressed. "You nearly got yourself a lung full of krypton-"

"You just overthrew a government!"

"-ite dust there. Yes, I did, and you know why so why did you think it was necessary to grab me?"

"So no one decides to drop a nuke on central London!"

"I.. don't think anyone would actually do that. We made sure that the Trident system was unavailable before we-."

"What about any country who are worried that they're going to be next? And before you say it, I'm not just talking about how they deal with you. The rest of us are going to be affected as well."

"Given what our targets were doing-."

"Take it from me as a reporter. There is not a single. Government. On Earth. That doesn't have things they'd kill to keep secret. Your friends Jon Horne and Sam Lane? They think I don't know that there's a squad of power armoured soldiers based in Metropolis ready to jump on me if I step out of line. They think I don't know about the billions they've sunk into anti-Kryptonian weapons, even though I've never given them cause to think they'll need them."

"I'll get that closed down-."

"Don't. I'd much rather have a program I know about than one I don't know about. One run by someone who's cautious rather than genuinely delusional."

"That's completely irrational-."

"Yes, it is. But that doesn't stop them. The best thing you can do is to avoid doing things that set them off. And openly deposing a government is one of those things. Because if you don't, it's probably not you who suffers. We were working on a less direct approach."

"Kal-El." I bring my hands together at my stomach. "It's not that I don't understand where you're coming from. It's just that I.. don't care where you're coming from. I am not a reporter. And I have no problem at all in fighting everyone who thinks they can stop me improving the Earth." Mother Box, boom tube.

Ping.

"Be so good as to pass that along to the rest of the League, would you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Grind

29th October
14:21 GMT +1

"…pretty sure Catherine wouldn't share that opinion."

"Why, what was wrong with it?"

Donna frowns at me as if I've said something bewilderingly stupid. "You deliberately picked a fight with your audience, then you had to use your ring to make them stop shouting."

"Yes, exactly. They had to stake their colours to the mast, then have me play a recording of an angel saying that the things that made them do that actually weren't a problem. Meaning they are, by their own terms, in the wrong."

"They don't think like that, Paul."

"True, but like the fellow in 'Thank You For Smoking' said: I wasn't after them. Unless I suddenly converted to.. some branch of Christianity or.. started my own, I was never going to keep the Christian religious right's approval. But I could give them a platform to publically demonstrate their hypocrisy, so that's what I did."

"Alright: I don't think like that."

"Do you believe that I should have let Satanus kill Blaze?"

"No."

"Do you believe that I should have helped Blaze hide somewhere where she would continue to help people damn themselves to sustain her magic?"

Donna sets her jaw. "No."

"Do you think that I should have killed her myself? Because Adom-."

"Paul."

I twitch my mouth, giving the impression that I'm trying not to laugh. "You're getting really good at doing the 'Diana' voice."

"I'm basically a clone of her. I can probably do her exact voice."

"I'll make sure to get you larger bras for Christmas, then."

Her eyes widen very slightly. "I-. Er, no what?"

"Okay, but I've seen Diana's old pictures, and if you're basically a clone-."

"Would you offer to get Kon a bigger jockstrap!?"

I blink. Yes, but… "Kon.. isn't ever going to grow, so, no. He also prefers boxer shorts-."

"What do you mean?"

"Er, Kon, not going to grow?" She nods. "It's because of how the genomorphs assembled his chimeric tissues. His hair gets longer, and.. eventually it'll go grey-" Probably. "-but that's about it. He'll always be shorter than Kal-El. Actually, he'll.. probably end up being the shortest man on the team. Unless Helios decides to do something about it."

"Why haven't you?"

"Because he's healthy and happy. I can use my power ring to.. alter people in all sorts of ways. But… I'm.. still surprised that Kon works as well as he does-. You know, as a biological organism. Of all the ways I could think of to.. alter him, none of them were… There isn't a solution that's simple and good. Nothing that just fixes the problem. Inasmuch as being at the lower end of 'average' height is a problem."

"And… What about Match?"

"Minimal chimerism. And I think Jor-El might be going to remove that. Aside from the eyes, he'll end up looking just like Kal-El."

"Okay." She nods. "But none of that makes it okay for you to make cracks about my breasts."

"I wasn't making a crack, I was making a light-hearted observation. Based on the similarities-."

"Well don't do that either."

I nod. "Noted." We begin our descent onto the volcanic soil of Mount Etna. "Am I allowed to make comments about shaving, on the grounds that I know Kon and Kal-El shave?"

"I'll.. allow it." She lands, just ahead of me. "Can we go back to talking about you offending three major world religions and how that isn't a good idea?"

"Actually, we'd moved on to how it offended you, which was why I attempted a light-hearted deflection. But alright: what do you think I should have done?"

"Asked Zauriel if you could have a fruit when you saw him in the Garden of Eden."

"So you don't have a problem with the Gabriel part of the story?"

"Yes, I have a problem with it, but that had already happened and wasn't anything to do with you. I don't… There are places that have compulsory organ donation and I don't mind that, so… Using his wings when he can't use them any more isn't necessarily bad."

"Alright, but what happens after he says no?"

"He said that he didn't have a problem with you giving her the fruit. Why would he say 'no'?"

"Because he doesn't have the authority to say 'yes'. Regardless of what he thinks of the idea-" And I'm momentarily reminded of many years ago when I worked at Asda, and a man asked me why I wasn't discounting nearly out of date fruit. "-he wouldn't do it without appropriate authorisation."

Her shoulders tense slightly. "And you don't think God would let you save a demon?"

"I don't remember him saying anything about getting orders from any god. Zauriel said that he was going to inform his king."

"Yes. That's God."

"No, the way he spoke about his god was different to the way he spoke about his king. And he directly stated that his instructions did not come from the Mind of God."

"Maybe if anyone had heard the full transcript I'd know that! This is the problem with anyone telling you what you should have done: no one knows everything you know! You don't tell anyone!"

"Not.. unreasonable. But you need to understand, the Source is not some.. sort of.. super powered Morgan Freeman. It isn't Highfather Izaya, who can do a decent impression of what most people think when they hear capital 'g' god. No one really knows why it does things or -beyond certain obvious things- that it's even what's doing them. I wouldn't even want to claim any degree of certainty that it created the Silver City."

"The Source? That's what you call God?"

"That's the most common name across the universe for the singular almighty divine power, believed to in some sense be physically located on the other side of the Source Wall. 'God' is a fairly generic name, easy to confuse with the class of being that the Source is not a part of."

"Okay, let's… Leave that. Why don't you think Zauriel's king would have said 'yes'?"

"Because Fawcett City. Because.. every atrocity ever committed, including the ones committed by them. I don't know what instructions they're operating under, or what they consider an appropriate time to intervene, but I've got enough evidence at this point to determine that it isn't the same as the one I use."

"Am I..?" Hephaestus waves his right hand as we look around. "Intruding? I thought we had a meeting, but to be honest this sounds a whole lot more interesting."

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th October
14:32 GMT +1

Hephaestus leads the way along a corridor on one of his foundry's lower levels, grinning as he does so. "So I understand that you're my great aunt?"

"Ah…" Donna appears to not know how to respond. I suppose that it is a bit of an odd thing to hear from someone who looks old enough to be your grandfather and is actually old enough to be your ancestor. "I'm not sure it.. works like that. Cronus didn't… Ah, 'sire' me-."

"So you're adopted. That just means that you didn't get stuck being raised by him."

"Yes, I.. don't think I'd have liked growing up in Tartarus all that much."

"Mm, you might have ended up growing up in Hades' court instead. That might have worked out. He's wanted to raise a little philosopher-king or queen for centuries now."

"What's stopping him?"

Donna cringes slightly, while Hephaestus just shrugs. "Did you see Persephone last time you were down there?"

"No, but I.. didn't have any particular business with her. Why, is.. she ill?"

Hephaestus 'hm's. "What version of the myths of the origin of their marriage do you know?"

"Ah… Well, the Amazon version has Hades abduct her, bring her to the underworld and trick her into drinking something with pomegranate seeds in it so that she can't completely leave."

Donna nods. "That's the version Diana told me when I asked her about it."

He nods. "And it's not completely inaccurate, as far as I know. I wasn't there when it happened, but everyone who was has given their version in my hearing at least once. The first point to consider is that Persephone is Zeus' daughter by Demeter. Hades had Zeus' permission to wed his daughter. I know that it's not how things work now, but at the time it wasn't unusual for fathers to arrange their children's marriages."

"Without talking to her or her mother at all? Shouldn't they have at least known each other?"

"That was.. less usual, it's true." I spot him glancing upwards, as if to make sure that there's a mountain between us and the sky. "But they did know each other, at least a little. Hades always visited Olympus when Zeus was holding court; she'd have been able to see him there. And he must have seen her somewhere to become so fixated on her. And… Zeus never admitted to it, but I think he might have said that he had mentioned it to them. Or.. at least implied it. Hades wasn't anything like as nice a guy back then as he is now, but I think he'd have still drawn the line at kidnapping his niece."

"That.. puts a somewhat different spin on the story. But did he not work it out after he saw how.. surprised she was when he picked her up?"

"Which is the second point. I think that if Persephone had flat out told him that she didn't know anything about it, he'd have cooled off a little. Or at least spoken to Demeter about it before declaring it was a done deal." He shrugs. "But Zeus, Poseidon and Hades are the most powerful gods of their generation, and when someone like that tells you that you're going to do something and that one of the few beings who could stop him has consented to it… I guess she didn't think that she had any choice in the matter. And she'd certainly have known how Zeus and Apollo act when they don't get their way."

"She pretended that what Hades thought had happened had actually happened because she was afraid of him?"

"As I said, I don't know any of this for certain. He certainly knows now, and I've never heard anything about him being violent toward her. But Hades can be a scary guy." He looks away for a moment. "Did the version you know have Demeter starving Greece in revenge?"

"Ah… The Amazon version-."

"The Amazon version says that the starvation was an unintended side effect of her searching for her daughter." Donna looks thoughtful. "Which seems odd. Wouldn't a Goddess of Agriculture instinctively know about a famine?"

"The Amazons aren't going to talk smack about one of their main patrons. And 'if you obsess about children you go crazy and everyone around you suffers' is a lesson-."

"No, I don't think that's the message."

"Whittle dolls, Donna. Hidden, because they were a source of shame."

Hephaestus raises his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Whatever the reason, the famine happened. Zeus had to admit to Hades that he hadn't talked to either of them, a divorce was unthinkable…"

"And the pomegranate seeds?"

Hephaestus scoffs. "Given when Zagreus was born, I think we can take a guess at what sort of seeds he was putting inside her. Which would explain why he wasn't willing to accept a separation."

"So why didn't he raise him as a philosopher-king?"

"Because at that point in his life, he wasn't interested in that sort of thing."

I nod. "And unlike most gods, Hades is faithful to his wife."

Hephaestus nods. "Unlike most gods, Hades actually loves his wife. Though… I suppose… Shades can't beget children. We wouldn't necessarily know."

Donna shakes her head. "Hades and Persephone have two children, don't they? I've never met Zagreus-"

"He works on a game reserve in Kenya. I get postcards, sometimes."

"-but we've both met Melinoë. What's stopping them having more children?"

Oh. I get it. "Zagreus and Melinoë are about the same age, aren't they?"

Hephaestus nods again. "Hades thought that once Persephone got to know him a bit better, she'd warm up to him. As far as I know? Never happened. But once she knew him well enough to realise that he wouldn't force himself on her, wife or not, that was the last time they shared a bed."

"'Wife or not?'"

"Different social customs, Donna. Or so I'm told." He shoves open a metal door and immediately the clanging and banging of a working foundry fills the air. "Marriage was less about individuals and more about family alliances. One person saying 'no' to their spouse might have meant a war. And if hundreds of lives on are on the line, then the person who was in the wrong was the one saying 'no'."

"Is.. now a bad time to ask about Aphrod-?"

"She's as chaste of me as you are. And I'm just about the only Olympian that's true of."

"I assure you, the thing with me and Eris-."

"I meant that I'm the only god she hasn't had sex with." He takes a look around the machinery, which puts me a little in mind of a Dwemer-built version of a nineteenth century factory complex. "Assuming that Zeus doesn't have a delayed explosion over Hera divorcing him, I might try and go that route myself."

"But Hades wants to have more children?"

"He had a... What did Vulcan call it? A 'mid-life crisis', some time after Greece went fully Christian. But rather than buy a flashy car, he wanted to change the way he treated the dead. He consulted a lot of people on what they thought that a God of the Dead should do, and unlike a lot of gods he actually listened. That was also when he started sharing Erebus' power with the shades. He also tried courting Persephone again, but that didn't work out."

I see Vulcan standing on.. stage, surrounded by what look like mechanical control systems. He waves, then goes back to studying the dials.

"Why can't Persephone get a divorce?"

"None of us can get divorces. And if you thought that Demeter starving Greece to get Persephone back was bad, remember that Hades is far more powerful than her."

"You mean he'd-."

"I don't know. But I do know that I don't want to find out. But." He brightens up slightly. "Neither of you came here for a history lesson, did you? Why don't I show you what we've been working on?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th October
14:44 GMT +1

"I know you said that technology isn't part of your domain, but I still don't understand why it isn't."

Vulcan looks around from the volcanic resonance engine he was cooing over. "Really? It's a pretty simple concept. Primal concepts have the largest impact on both the arcane world and the people living in it. The latter becoming increasingly important in more recent times."

Hephaestus pours more metal into a mould. They're making another metamaterial, something heavy as heck but super strong. "There's been lightning for as long as this world has existed. Darkness for longer."

"I know that, it's why enchanting swords is easy but enchanting guns is hard. But isn't smithing a lot more recent than everything else?"

Vulcan pushes a couple of levers downwards, and runes on the engine start glowing fiery red. "Isn't love?"

"Maybe, but sexual reproduction is a billion years old. Tool use is nothing like that old."

Hephaestus waves a tool a little like a coat hanger over his metal, the molten liquid visibly cooling as he does so. "Tool use is older than the humans who use most of them. And that matters more than you might think."

Vulcan nods. "There's a reason why we gods all look human. Before you, there was just power without form-."

Donna doesn't look impressed. "Are you saying we literally built gods in our own image?"

"I doubt it was a conscious process. But, in places, your ideas caused the Dreaming to… I'm not sure how you'd describe it. There was power, but you gave it form. Definition. That process eventually gave rise to the Titans. And because they already had powerful ties to the material world, moving from the Dreaming to the material world was simple for them."

"I know about the titans. I saw Oceanus this summer. Giant elemental monsters, who were really powerful because they embodied the most primal concepts."

Hephaestus shakes his head. "No. Not monsters. Not.. colossal animals, like some big elementals can be. The titans basically came from early humans, remember. And some parts of human life are so universal to your species that they had to share those elements themselves. Like breeding, for example. Or fighting for power."

Donna nods, a little irritated at the speed of the narration. "The titans begat the gods, resulting in a worldwide supernatural war which saw the titans lose to their children and either be killed or imprisoned."

Hephaestus turns his casting out, and then picks it up to look it over. "You're missing the point. Each god is a combination of the arcane characteristics of their parents, pared with some aspect of the world as experienced by humans. Humans have been making tools for long enough that nurturing and commanding could combine into crafting. It doesn't come up much these days, but flint tools are as much a part of…" He glances at Vulcan, who is hooking up his newly tested engine to an assemblage of some kind. "Our domain as metal tools. But they've got history. We've both tried, but our instinct for metalworking doesn't extend to circuitry."

"On the other hand, it can help with novel applications. Since you-" Vulcan nods in my direction. "-shared that idea about using jovium as a heat conductor, we've been building all sorts of things."

Hephaestus slots his casting into a rack with a dozen others like it, then pulls a chain to turn the pulleys to move it out into the middle of a clear area in the middle of the complex.

Hm. "So… You aren't the Gods of Technology."

"No." Vulcan picks up something that looks like a large bore rifle. "And we can't learn to become the Gods of Technology. But we can learn technology."

"From what you were saying about god breeding, would it follow that one of your offspring would be the God of Technology?"

"Hm." Hephaestus stops pulling and frowns as he thinks about it. "He wasn't, but at that point 'technology' wasn't much more than what was covered by my domain. And his mother…"

"Um."

"Probably not the right mix."

Donna frowns. "Just one? The myths-."

"I'm a married crippled smith who earned Zeus' disfavour. The goddesses weren't exactly lining up." He waves his right hand dismissively before clumping awkwardly back towards Vulcan. "Sometimes they named me as the father as a joke, or when they didn't want to get a mortal lover in trouble. Trust me, the real number isn't high."

"So who was he? And.. who was his mother?"

A very faint smile graces his lips. "I read everything I can on science and technology. I teach anyone with a mind to learn and a will to use their knowledge. And you need to ask me who my son's mother was?"

Donna blinks, shocked. "The myths about Erichtonius say-."

"Myths… Say a lot of things. I wouldn't put too much store in them." He comes to a halt next to Vulcan and turns around. "Zeus ate her mother because he feared her power. What do you think he would have done to her son?"

"So… You're saying that she's not a virgin?"

He shrugs. "We never married. And she couldn't acknowledge him…"

"So what would be?"

"What?"

"If learning and craft don't make technology, what does?"

Vulcan lowers his gun, rolling his eyes. "Can't we leave the theoretical theologism until we're well into our cups?"

"I was just wondering-?"

"As I said, the sort of technology that exists today wasn't a thing when Erichtonius was born. With no metaphysical source of power, he wasn't much more capable than a demigod. But… Athena is a war goddess as much as she is a patron of classical learning. I'm not sure that he'd have been technology even if he'd been born today."

"Technology. Someone sees a problem, comes up with a way to deal with it… And then a few years later it's being put to a use they never envisaged and society has shifted around it in unplanned and uncontrollable ways…" I smile. "How do you feel about E-"

"No."

"-ris?"

Vulcan raises his gun again. "Test seventy five, heat transfer gun mark four. Firing."

Hephaestus nods. "Thank you."

Runes along the sides of the gun glow, and there's a faint hiss as the air inside superheats and a projectile rockets from the muzzle, striking Hephaestus' metal barricade dead centre. Molten metal explodes away from the impact point, and I can see it continuing to dribble down from the point of impact.

Hephaestus tilts his head to the side. "Some damage."

"Hm." Vulcan smiles, then pulls another leaver on his engine. For a moment, noth-.

The projectile flares brilliant white for an instant, and I get construct shields up just about quickly enough to prevent us getting enshrouded in vaporised metal!

"Hm." Hephaestus takes a moment to examine the dripping remains of his metal plates. "And it does that to four inch thick gromril. What do you say we try it against enchanted plates next?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th October
10:44 GMT -5

Ted crouches over the metametal samples like a bird of prey mantling its kill. "And how much of this can you produce?"

Vulcan shrugs. "Even with the increased automation we've built into our new plant, it's still not exactly a quick process. Not for industrial quantities."

Hephaestus nods. "You need a certain feel for metal that only comes with working with it for years."

"I can hire you five hundred foundry workers really quickly." Neither of them look particularly impressed by the suggestion. "What?"

"We could.. try, but manipulating metal by machine usually doesn't produce the same sort of… Arcane characteristics." Vulcan takes a small lead rod out of one of his pouches and lays it on a workbench. "This is a basic test sample. Standard size, total purity. Hephaestus and I could transmute it in a few minutes. Io and Pallas could do it in half an hour or so."

Hephaestus nods approvingly. "It used to be an hour. They're picking it up fast, compared to most mortals I've tried to teach."

Vulcan taps the metal sample with his right hand. "They're also three thousand years old. They know how to listen to the spirit of metal, how to shape it with hand and breath-. With their own spirit."

Ted looks like a child who's on the verge of having his favourite toy stolen. "I can.. hire blacksmiths..?"

Hephaestus raises his eyebrows. "Three thousand year old blacksmiths?"

"Do they..? Really need to be three thousand years old?"

"No." Hephaestus shakes his head. "Someone really committed could probably get a feel for it in…" He looks at Vulcan. "Twenty years..?"

"More like thirty. Unless they were literally doing nothing else."

"Thirty years. They wouldn't be as good, but they'd be able to do it reliably."

"Thirty years…" Ted leans back in his chair, holding up a small orichalcum rod and staring at it. Then he turns his attention to me. "Think the Atlanteans can shave a little time off that?"

I puff out my cheeks slightly, shaking my head. "I wouldn't like to say. There might be a pure arcane way of replicating the spiritual resonance, but I doubt that it would be easy or fast."

"Guess we won't be rewiring the whole country with zero-resistance wires, then." He closes his eyes, tilting his head back for a moment. "Okay, so you need smiths. Ancient-sword-master-meditates-on-top-of-a-mountain-for-a-day-before-each-blow smiths."

Vulcan frowns. "No, there's a difference between 'dedicated' and crazy."

Ted looks back at him with a mildly puzzled frown. "No, that was just hyperbole-. Wait, people tried that?"

Vulcan shrugs. "People will try all sorts of things. Especially when it comes to pleasing a god."

"Right, okay. But you need smiths." They nod. "And if I get smiths, would you be willing to train them?"

Hephaestus nods unenthusiastically. "Sure, but you need to understand something. Hellenists worship me as the God of the Forge. Just about all Amazons have tried their hand at smithing at some point in their lives, and it isn't just Io and Pallas who have it as their main occupation." He leans forward slightly. "We've got two students who can aid us in a worthwhile way."

Ted nods. "So don't get my hopes up, is what you're saying."

"Ah…" The three of them turn their attention my way. "Given the religious affiliation of most of the people you'll be recruiting-."

Vulcan huffs. "I work in a car dealership in Italy."

"Wait." Ted looks at me with an expression of amused disbelief. "You're being sensitive to people's religious sensibilities?"

"No, I'm encouraging other people to be sensitive. The bit of the whole.. uplift project I do isn't the bit which most people are going to have to interact with." Ted nods. "But the bit you're doing-."

"Yeah, people still ask if they need to pray to Zeus to make the weather control spheres work." He nods again before looking hopefully at the forge-gods. "Are you guys alright pretending to be..? I don't know…"

"An Italian car mechanic?" Vulcan shrugs. "I have a decent secret identity these days. A lot of us do."

Hephaestus frowns. "I don't, but it's not like I go trumpeting my true nature to everyone around me."

"Oh, er… On that subject?"

Hephaestus raises his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"How did the Hephaesteia go?"

"Now you ask? I had to find out you weren't going to be there from Diana."

"And.. I'm… Sorry about that, but I really.. felt it was best not to be on the planet for a while. Did you get my letter?"

"Yeah, I got it. And given what you were doing I'm not too offended that you didn't tell me about it. It was just… A shame, you weren't there." He smiles. "It wasn't like the old days, and I think the statue was supposed to be Vulcan, but I loved every minute of it."

Ted nods. "Thirty one companies showing off the latest in bleeding-edge designs. LexCorp even brought in one of their power armour suits." I frown. "You know, the ones they sent out to fight Oceanus with you."

I nod. "Reverse engineered OMAC technology. Skipping millions of hours of research and development with the help of a supervillain from a parallel universe."

"If you see another supervillain from a parallel universe with technology like that, feel free to give him my card." Ted shrugs. "On the other hand, they needed to plug themselves in to ultra-high capacity charge points every half hour or so, so I don't think BAE Systems are panicking quite yet."

"Now that the Russians have their Rocket Red Brigade up and running, Mister Luthor might be betting on the American military panicking instead."

"No, I think at this point the US military knows the problems with current generation power armour sufficiently well that the shine's worn off the concept. What Lex was showing off was a step up in capability, but what they really want is something that can keep on working for days at a time without constant recharging or technical problems. But, ah, anyway, turnout was good and I'm looking forward to next year's."

"Yeah. Great." Vulcan frowns, then looks thoughtful. "If you can find smiths who can learn how to create metametals, how much are you going to want?"

Ted looks mildly confused by the question. "All of it. There is literally no amount you can produce that I can't find a use for."

"Are you sure? Jovium is fairly ductile, but orichalcum isn't something you can easily reforge. Once it's in shape, that's it."

"So..? This rod..?"

"A test piece. Nearly useless for anything else. We'll need to know your exact specifications when we get to work."

Ted nods. "What are you doing with what you're making now?"

"Heat capacitors, mostly. See, we found out how to-."

"You have devices which can store and release heat in a controlled way?"

"Yes, though we've done a lot of work improving the designs lately." Hephaestus nods. "We use Mount Etna-" Ted inhales excitedly. "-because the work we do requires so much heat that it just wasn't practical to use charcoal. But convection made just working over the magma impractical. These actually let us get a lot more work done. You.. think there's a market for it?"

"I'm already selling as many weather control spheres as I can make! Just about every volcano in the world will want a hundred if it means they don't have to worry about eruptions, especially after Yellowstone nearly went off last year!"

Vulcan frowns. "I'm not sure the other forge-gods will like that."

Oh?

"Maybe you should set up a meeting?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th October
10:03 GMT +5

Sam closes his eyes for a moment, and gives his head a small shake. "No, they're not there in case Superman 'steps out of line'. I had them deployed there right after Doctor Psycho appeared, because he made it pretty clear that he was interested in hurting as many people as possible and it seemed to me that the best way for him to do that was to mind control Superman. So I made some calls and got a squad put together, under the command of a man who respects Superman. And I chose him because I wanted someone who would use the least force necessary but would still do it if it turned out to be necessary." He leans back in his chair. "Do you think Kal-El would want to risk killing millions of people?"

I nod slowly. "Doctor Cizko requires a surprisingly large amount of time to take that sort of control of individuals. I'm.. not sure that a.. group of people in power armour without telepathic protection of their own would.. really be a good counter."

"Cizko demonstrated the ability to give people instructions they would carry out after they left his immediate environment. The idea was -and I want to be clear that this was the only circumstance in which they'd be deployed- that they would attempt to stop Superman if he went on a rampage only if we were sure that he was far enough away from the little bastard that he couldn't affect them."

"Wouldn't.. other superheroes be better counters?"

"Sure, if they weren't working their civilian jobs or running around doing God knows what at the time." He sighs. "I don't hate superheroes, Grayven. I wouldn't be having this conversation with you if I did."

"Hey, I'm a federal agent these days."

"You know, that would have been the way to go in the fifties." He brings his right hand up to his chin. "Let the Justice Society become federal agents, and have them become the umbrella organisation for all American superheroes. Given how popular they were, I think they might have pulled it off."

"Director Armstrong not getting the.. uptake she'd like?"

"I'm not sure that she'd be 'happy' with less than a hundred percent. But, no. Rookie superheroes don't want to spend the time that getting qualified takes-."

"Which is probably why they're becoming superheroes and not police officers in the first place."

He grins with the left side of his mouth. "Yeah, probably. And the older ones who could stroll through the qualification process don't see the point, because they already know everything we'd be trying to teach them and they've already either got working relationships with local police or.. don't want working relationships with local police."

"The Question?"

"Mm." He nods. "Which is particularly annoying, because out of state help is just what Hub City needs."

"Anything I can do to help?"

He nods. "Give it at least a couple of years before you overthrow an allied government again."

"Mister Talbot-."

"I'm not recording this conversation, Grayven. There were genomorphs and boom tubes all over the place and you were seen at several of the places that got attacked. Look, I think you did the right thing and I know PR's a pain in the ass sometimes, but if we're trying to persuade a whole lot of people to change how they behave-" I'm already nodding. "-we need to do things that make us look like their kind of people."

"I have no immediate plans to overthrow any more governments." Sam rolls his eyes. "Alright, fine. In the medium term Kahndaq and a few other ultra corrupt African places are going to have a change of officers, but I'm not going to be directly involving myself on the ground. And it probably won't be soon anyway."

"If anyone asks, I didn't hear that."

"Okay. Okay. And I'll.. go and talk to a few people. High potential/low experience types." Sam nods. "Now can we talk about your anti-Kryptonian defence budget?"

"Alien defense only came under my control recently, but I've got to say that I agree with a lot of the decisions. Again, it's nothing personal, but he comes from a whole race of superpowered aliens who get their superpowers from something the Earth has in abundance. America has to be able to defend itself against all reasonably foreseeable threats."

"Krypton's a giant radioactive asteroid belt. I'll take you there right now if you want to see it."

"Did they have FTL?"

"… Yes."

"And we know there was at least one survivor." He shrugs. "It always seemed likely to me that there would be others."

"Krypton underwent a period of extreme isolationism immediately prior to its destruction. While there.. are other survivors, the vast majority are in the phantom zone."

"And what's that?"

"I.. don't really understand the physics of it. Limbo, basically. They were using it.. essentially as a prison."

"For what sort of criminals?"

"Originally, the worst of the worst. Mass murderers, people like that. By the time Krypton went up they were using it for petty criminals; people convicted of theft and common assault. In theory, a lot of them could be paroled."

"That seems like something Superman might do."

"If he could reliably tell which ones were the mass murderers and which ones weren't, certainly. Surprisingly, they're not the most honest of people."

"And that isn't even the main problem. Technology is technology. If one species can invent a phantom zone portal, others can as well. Which means that we could have some of the worst criminals in Kryptonian history free at a moment's notice."

"And their jaywalkers. But, sure, okay. Just promise me that it's kryptonite weapons and whatnot, not.. giant, Kryptonite-enriched monsters you can't control or anything like that?"

"Heh." Sam shakes his head. "Even if I wanted to. No, we haven't gone quite that crazy."

"And.. have you made similar arrangements for other species?"

"What, like the Martians? We've got multiphasic scanners that can detect most shapeshifters and psychic insulators that impede telepathy."

"Thanagarians?"

"Nothing specific, but they're fragile enough that conventional armour piercing rounds will take them down. Beyond that, we'd need a space fleet. And in an uncharacteristically anti-capitalist display I understand that Lex Luthor won't be selling to us."

"It would probably trigger a massive decay in international relations if the US had a fleet and no one else did."

"Your idea?"

"No, his, but I think it makes a lot of sense. My advice is to train up as many people as you can and release them to volunteer when his training centre opens." I frown. "You have a… Team working out how to kill my species?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be able to tell you about it."

"Oh, no, I'm not complaining. There are two super-Earths covered in my people and one of those worlds is extraordinarily hostile to Earth's interests, whereas there are maybe a handful of Kryptonians around. Heck, one of the reasons I set up shop here was to get better anti-New God weapons. I want you to be developing them. Here." I reach into my pocket, pull out a data stick and pass it to him. "That's a pretty good summary of what we can do and how our metaphysiques work. They might find it helpful."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th October
15:36 GMT -5

**No, just a rusted wheel-inner. Moving on.**

I turn away and trudge a little further up the Mississippi river bed. If this is what I've been missing…

**Aqualad to team. I have not yet discovered anything of note.**

**Color me surprised.** Wallace sounds about as enthusiastic as I feel. **Is this really the best thing we could be doing with our time?**

**Try to stay whelmed, KF. The people in this whole area are showing disrupted sleep patterns, and since that's just about the only symptom we know people carrying the new type of Star Conquerors show, somebody's got to check it out.**

I get a mental picture of him slumping slightly as he moves along the waterfront. **And we drew the short straw.**

And of course I can't scan the riverbed-. Or rather, I have, but that isn't reliable since the new type can use magic, can't they?

I see a shape in the water as M'gann swims by. **At least you're not having to breathe the water here. I don't even want to think about some of the things that I'm putting in my gills right now.**

I see a faint glow from Kaldur as I approach. He's using some sort of indirect water current detection spell in the hopes that it will speed things up a little. He's also using a water purification spell , but sadly for M'gann it only works on the caster. **Miss Martian, if you are putting your health at risk-.**

**No, no. It's just really… Ugh.**

**Your distaste is not misplaced.**

**So… What else have I been missing?**

**A couple of weeks ago we had to deal with a whole bunch of religious crazies.** I can hear the implication in Wallace's mental tone. **Can't imagine what got them all wound up.**

**I didn't make them crazy, Kid Flash.** Hm, another car. And oh so much mud. **What were they doing?**

**Kidnapping people they thought were being influenced by demons and 'exorcising' them with torture.** Richard sighs. **We got everyone out… Everyone who was still alive, anyway.**

**Which is really all you can do.**

**Hey.** Again, I get a mental impression with the words. In this case, Kon frowning. **Did you lose computer access or something?**

**Ah… Haven't tried it. And I.. do want to show an interest.**

**Alright.** I get a blurred impression of different images as Kon thinks. **Ah… And before that, there were a bunch of museum thefts Batman wanted us to look into.**

**Find anything?** A small sunken boat with a few brave plants growing off it. **Investigating a boat. Nothing suspicious on the exterior.**

**And I'm not hearing anything with my mind. You don't think they'd be able to hear us, do you?**

**Maybe? But they're not good swimmers unless they've got aquatic hosts, so while they might hide they can't really get away. And based on what Mister J'onzz said about Guy-.**

I get an image of her nodding. **It only takes a few days for the programming to break down.**

**Honestly, the team looking into people's houses has a better chance of finding something than we do.** I send a mental image of someone taking a Star Conqueror off their face and putting it in a cupboard. And then it jumping out at the next person to open it.

**Seriously, Oh El?**

**Don't worry, Kid. They don't actually hurt their hosts, remember?**

**Except for the beak wounds. Actually, yeah: how come a bunch of people haven't shown up at hospital with beak-wounds they don't remember getting? Or, y'know, just walking around with cuts in exactly the same pattern as everyone else?**

**It is possible that the Star Conquerors have learned to heal their hosts, or to attach themselves without the use of their beaks.**

I don't get any impression of Kaldur's thoughts, but I do get a rough sense of his location. Interior of the ship… Silted up. I generate a construct probe and start rooting through it. No bodies, at least.

**Maybe they just wear hats?**

**Heh-.** I get an impression of Wallace's surprise as none of the rest of us laugh at Kon's suggestion. **Really? No, those things were big. You couldn't get a baseball cap over one without it being obvious.** There's a pause as we all try and imagine it. **But-. I suppose a bigger hat might work.**

**I'll send a message to Artemis.** Richard doesn't sound too convinced either. **Hopefully she'll take it seriously.**

**What sort of hats do they usually wear in this part of the world? I mean, if-** No, just silt. **-we don't have a baseline, it would be hard to tell whether or not there's been any change. Oh, and boat clear. Moving on.**

**Houndstooth, maybe? I don't know if you could fit a Star Conqueror under one of those either. Aaand Artemis just replied with a question mark.**

The glow from Kaldur dims momentarily. **I can detect no inexplicable arcane presences in this part of the river. I will also point out that illusion would also explain the lack of alarms from hospitals. And the continuing lack of hats. Orange Lantern, how large could the Star Conquerors have grown in this time?**

**Green Lantern Corps records say they grow based on need rather than food or age. And they don't breed particularly quickly. Assuming the ones we found in April were all of them… One might have grown to Star Hunter size by now. Or at least be getting there. But we don't know enough about this type to know for certain.**

I drift over another section of riverbed. No, no points of interest here. **So how did the theft thing turn out?**

A slight sense of.. unease.. conveys itself over the link.

**Regrettably, those among the criminal group whom we were able to locate killed themselves to avoid capture.** Oh. **None of those we were able to identify had any prior history of criminality. Most of them also had no history of associating with one another, nor anything else linking them.**

**Any… Leads?**

**We have descriptions of most of the artefacts that are still missing. Sadly-. With Doctor Fate…**

**Yes, he can't identify them for you.** And Doctor Mist didn't seem like the book-collecting type. **I know a few people you could ask.**

**You…** And I know what Richard's going to ask even before he thinks it. **Wouldn't know a way to get into the Tower of Fate, would you?**

**Ah…**

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th October
18:36 GMT -5

"Look, when I said 'maybe', that's exactly what I meant."

We're standing on the plaza, just in front of where the Tower appeared last time. Most of the team's gone home, or at least back to base. They've got their own cities to protect and their own homework to complete. Kaldur's here, because he considers it his responsibility to investigate, Richard, because he doesn't want to let me out of his sight. Kon's here, because I'm here. Wallace I suspect came because he knows why I didn't trust Fate from the start, and Artemis is here because he is.

Really didn't think that would work.

The whole thing in Alabama turned out to be a total waste of time; some idiot playing around with subsonics. I could have given him a truly soundproof room. Richard could have upgraded his control program to something that would allow him to monitor what he was doing. But having spent the better portion of the day trudging along a riverbed I decided not to, and Richard had already notified the police.

It's basically just a noise complaint. He'll probably get off with a fine.

Wallace looks at me curiously. "Fate's dead, right? I mean… That was what that whole thing was about."

"Brain dead. We destroyed his personality, but we couldn't work out how to completely cut his connection to the plane of order. In theory, the Tower's intelligence should still be capable of detecting us. And since we've been here before…"

Kaldur swings his right hand through the place where the doorway appeared during our last visit. "It does not appear to want to recognise us."

Richard waves a sensor wand across the same place. "I'm not detecting anything either." He turns to look at me. "I'm not an expert on magic, but maybe having the guy who killed Fate here isn't the best way to convince it to let us in."

Kon frowns. "Hey."

"He's.. got a point." And I really don't know how long John had in mind when he said not to go looking for him for a while. It's been four months... "But… You can come back here without me whenever you like." I look upwards towards where the top of the tower was. Feels like a lifetime ago I was fighting Klarion up there… "Tower, Klarion the Witch Boy is dead. No replacement Lord of Chaos has been sighted. We're in the middle of a case, and we would benefit from having access to your library."

"Oh El?" Wallace doesn't look either pleased or displeased. "You're not exactly… 'We'." Kon's eyes narrow slightly. "I mean, you resigned." Kon keeps glaring. "He did."

"I did." I crank my empathic vision up all the way, until the lights on the far side of the plaza start to hurt. No, nothing. "But I don't have anything better to do today, so unless you're telling me to leave, 'we' are 'we'."

Kaldur raises his right hand in order to stop a discussion… They have most likely had already. "If the Tower will not grant us access, then we-."

The door appears, then opens wide. And…

What?

Out strides a man in flowing blue robes with golden thread decoration, the Helmet of Fate sat upon his head. Empathic vision's giving me nothing. Ring scan-

Don't do that.

-not doing that. And that wasn't John's voice. And that isn't John's build or John's walk. John sidles forward. And he's never had that sort of musculature. This man is… Built like a superhero. And he strides purposefully. And if that was his voice my ring just spoke in, then their accents are different as well. The same faint trace of scouse, but none of the Londoner. Sounds a little… Welsh, maybe?

I take a definite step back. I am not prepared for fighting a Lord of Order.

"Good evening. What brings you to my home?"

The ring on my left hand is fizzling and crackling and.. heeeee's got it already, hasn't he?

There's some decidedly confused looking at one another from my team mates. But Kaldur's leader.

"Lord.. Fate. We were told that you were dead."

"Did you come here to check?"

And breathe. No constant references to 'fate'. He's not back, he's not back. Which still leaves the possibility that it's some other Order spirit pulling the strings. Huh, I never really thought about it, but… Did he actually call himself 'Lord Fate', or did other people pick it up based on the references he made?

"No. I apologise. I was simply surprised to see you."

"It's quite alright… Aqualad, yes?"

"You are correct." Kaldur turns slightly to the side, gesturing to the rest of us with his right hand. "And this is my team. You.. have met them before, but-."

"No, Nabu met them before. This is the first time for me. Ah! Where are my manners?" He holds his right hand out to Kaldur. "Lord Fate. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Aqualad." Kaldur takes his hand and they shake… Companionably enough.

Kon looks to me for some sort of clue about what's going on, but all I can do is shrug. Okay, Larfleeze's old ring looks like it's still -yep, that's a small box-construct- working. Perhaps the lack of AI means that it's not orderly enough? My spell eater is still cold so that wasn't a direct att.. ack. But… Power rings draw power from somewhere else which means-.

And now he's looking at me.

"Orange Lantern."

"Lord Fate." I hold out my left hand. "Ah, if you're planning on using the name."

"I may as well." He takes my hand with his left and… Nothing untoward happens. "I understand that the Justice League still have me listed on the active roster."

Ahhhhhhhhaaaaa…

Right. And that's the thing about masked secret identities. Kon can't pretend to be Kal-El; he's not big enough. But if another martian pretended to be J'onn J'onzz, no one who wasn't another martian would know it. Heck, the Justice League that formed during the One Year Later thing happened because one Firestorm gave the next Firestorm all his old Justice League gear. If something happened to Diana, would the next Wonder Woman get an automatic placement?

I somehow doubt that any of them have ever talked about it.

"They have Nabu on the active roster. I imagine that they'll want to talk to you before confirming the succession."

I'm aware there have been other Fates in the comics, but the only one I can remember right at this moment is Hector Hall and this man doesn't sound American. And… Jared something? I think he was American too?

Of course… There's the other option…

He removes his hand and extends his right towards Wallace. "I understand that you had the displeasure of being locked in your body by my predecessor."

"Yeah… That-" His eyes shift to me before returning to… Oh great, now I'm going to have to call him 'Fate' too. He shakes his hand. "-happened. Do you not..?"

"No, but I see why you would be concerned. This is my own body. But it's no trouble at all to demonstrate." Without particular ceremony he reaches up and lifts off the Helmet of Fate, revealing…

Some bloke with long blonde hair. Not John. Maybe what John would look like after a century-long detox program and a body building course. He also doesn't have any of the weight holding him down that John has, the slight cringe that comes from having everyone around you die or be horribly injured again and again and knowing that you were to blame and that's it's going to happen again. This man is.. confident. Calm. Friendly. And there's enough difference in the structure of his face that I'm not worrying that John's done some sort of stupid bit of magic to reimagine himself.

"Ah! Forgive me. I shouldn't keep you all waiting out here, not if you're tracking down arcane artefacts which may have fallen into the hands of ne'er-do-well's. Please." He motions to the open door with his right arm while putting the Helmet under his left. "Come inside."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th October
18:43 GMT -5

Artemis stares around the vast library. "What happened to all the stairs?"

"They're still around." Fate walks over to what looks like a broom cupboard and pulls open the door, revealing… Yes, there they are. "But I find them a little inconvenient for moving around. Since I can change the relationship between the interior elements of the Tower, I shuffled some of the more inconvenient ones out of the way."

He closes the door and leads the way towards a reading area. The shelves are arranged in such a way that I can't tell whether the place is very big, actually infinite or just repeating itself. Certainly, I can't see or detect more of us.

"If I may ask?" Fate turns to Kaldur with his eyebrows raised. "I have not heard of… A magician of your appearance before. Have you been a hero for long?"

"In my own small way." He walks around to the far side of the table and sits down, putting the Helmet of Fate down in front of him. "I've always been a minor magician. Human psychology, basic synchronicity… A little wart-charming. And then: Helmet. And the whole wonderful music of the universe opened itself to me."

Richard, Wallace, Artemis and Kaldur sit down opposite him. I stay back a little, and Kon folds his arms across his chest and stands nearer to me. Would John have given up and dumped it on some likely lad? He might, I suppose. If it was really getting to him. And I probably wasn't on the planet, so I can hardly fault him for-.

"You don't know who this guy is, do you?"

"Not the foggiest."

Fate says something to Wallace, who frowns but holds out his hands anyway. A moment later a book flies in from one of the shelves and lands in them.

"Do you think he's telling the truth? I mean, what did you do with the Helmet of Fate after you killed him?"

"I was in hospital, Kon. I had no input into what happened to it."

"But you know." My eyes dip slightly. "Paul."

"John had it. He's looked after that sort of thing before, he's the man I got Angelica's wings from."

"Mom said they'd put things like that in the reliquary on Themyscira."

"And I made my plans assuming that she wouldn't be involved."

He doesn't look impressed. Which is.. understandable, really. "So, is this a problem?"

"Don't know. Hope not. Having a powerful Order magician around would certainly be useful." He starts to open his mouth. "One who isn't a body-stealing parasite."

"If I'm not intruding?"

We both turn around to look at New Fate. The others are flicking through books, going from illustration to illustration and pulling out the 'possibles' for further study. I think about reaching for my rune stone, but this place is so full of magic that I doubt that I'd get a worthwhile reading.

Kon nods at him. "Who are you?"

"My first name is 'John', actually. But you'll excuse a magician for not wanting to give out his full name." He half turns, gesturing to the other four. "Now, why don't you.. join your friends. I'm sure they'd appreciate an extra pair of eyes. And I need a quick word in private with Orange Lantern."

And… Kon's muscles tense slightly. He knows I'm hiding something about this from him. Which I am, and will continue to do until I can find out what's going on from John and then he can decide. Kon walks over to the table and pulls out the chair next to Wallace, while 'John' puts his right arm around my shoulders and gently leads me away down one of the aisles.

He doesn't say anything right away, just leads me down a corner to an intersection. Two seats, a small table, a glass of milk and a tea set. The latter being for him, presumably.

"Please, take a seat."

No real reason not to. I pull away and take the seat to the left. He gently lowers himself into the chair to the right, Helmet on his lap.

"Now." He picks up the teapot and pours himself a cup. Teabags in a kettle, or is he just replacing the strainer with magic? "I'm sure that you're finding this whole situation extremely suspicious."

I reach for the milk glass, hold it up and take a good look at it. "I walked into here, didn't I?"

He sets the teapot down and shakes his head. "I don't follow."

"John Constantine could probably futz around with the magics of the tower, given enough time. But an Order-aligned magician? No, the tower's accepted you. Which means you could probably put me on a Möbius strip stairway or something and there'd be very little I could do about it."

"Except call the Ophidian, and I would really rather that you didn't." He looks around as he raises his cup to his lips and takes a small sip. "I've just got it looking the way I like it."

"Alright. How did you get that Helmet?"

"Ah… Where are you up to?"

"John visited me in hospital after the fight with Nabu. He had it with him then."

"And how did he seem to you?"

"Like it was doing his head in."

He nods, a slight smile on his lips. "Yes, that's… John… Wasn't the most orderly of people. I'm a bit surprised he didn't hand it over to someone else immediately."

"So how did you get it? And how do you know John?"

"Some British police officers believe in magic. I was in Cardiff when there were a series of… Apparently ritualistic murders. I offered to help, they accepted… Completely unnecessarily, as it turned out. John was already on the case. We traded phone numbers…"

"Just one case?" Though that might explain why John never bothered mentioning him to me.

"I phoned him for advice a few times, and we got together for a drink on the one occasion I visited London." He shrugs, taking another sip. "Having contacts in the know is vital in our line of work." I nod. "We weren't especially close, and all I could really offer him was an extra pair of hands."

"But he trusts you with the Helmet?"

He chuckles quietly to himself. "How many orderly people do you think John Constantine knows, oh Discordian Lantern?"

Fair point. 'Not many' would be my guess, which pretty much matches the contact list he shared with me. And while Mister Zatara might have been willing to take it up again… Okay, there wouldn't be a huge problem, now that Nabu isn't in it any longer. But Order might have issues with it, and if he were directly plugged into it…

But some bright-looking magician from Cardiff? I could sort of see that working. And it's not like John isn't known for dumping people in the deep end.

"Alright. The Justice League are doing a full cover up on what happened to Nabu, so…"

He nods. "Mum's the word. He's on holiday, or retired, or accepted a new posting."

"Have you had any contact from the Order side of things?"

"Not yet. It's possible that they don't even know that Nabu's dead. But that's my problem now."

I nod. "If you ever want any help, I'm happy to assist."

"Thank you." He drains his cup and puts it back down. "And… Since we're going to be colleagues in future… Why don't we get to know one another a little?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th October
20:05 GMT -5

"That guy seemed pretty normal." Artemis shrugs as I look at her. "As super powerful wizards go."

"I will try not to take offence on my queen's behalf."

Artemis winces very faintly. "Right. But is she powerful, like, Lord of Order powerful?"

Kaldur inclines his head slightly. "I do not believe so. But I am also not certain how skilled the new Fate will be without Nabu to guide him."

It's not far to the Salem zeta tube, and the locals walking along the pavements around us are giving us a degree of space. Fate aside, Salem doesn't have a significant superhero or supervillain population. And I know that Nabu didn't interact significantly with the locals.

Kon nudges me with his left elbow. "What did he want to talk to you about?"

"An expanded version of how he got the Helmet."

Kaldur nods. "And do you believe his tale to be credible?"

"Plausible, yes. I'll need to check it out before I say 'credible', of course."

Wallace.. appears to be getting a little annoyed with me. "Oh El, why don't you just tell us what you did with the Helmet?"

"Because I put it in the care of a person, and I want to discuss the matter with them before spreading that information."

Richard tilts his head slightly to the side. "You weren't expecting him, were you?" I nod. "Were you expecting there to be a Fate, or was that a surprise too?"

Ahh-hhh… "I wasn't expecting a Fate. I also wasn't expecting such a helpful attitude, so really that went better than I thought it would. What did you find out?"

"Each of the ar-."

"Ah, hold on, Supes." Wallace raises his right hand.

Kon frowns. "What?"

Wallace looks at me and I nod. "I'm not on the team. Which means that I don't automatically qualify for sharing sensitive information."

"Oh, come on!" Kon frowns at Kaldur and Wallace in turn. "We didn't even get in when we came here without Paul. And John.. Fate seemed pretty friendly. What's the point in keeping something secret if he can just go back and ask them?"

I hold up my hands slightly. "Look, if you want to handle this without me... That's fine. I was just.. trying to be helpful."

"Kid Flash does raise a point which several of us have been considering." Kaldur stops for a moment and stares me in the face. "Do you wish to rejoin the team?"

"Um. I… I'd.. assumed that after Hyde Park the League wouldn't want me to be quite so closely involved with their work. Particularly given how I've already rejected their rules of engagement. A young superhero who doesn't know their own strength is one thing, but everything I did was deliberate."

"I understand that there may be problems, but you did not answer my question. Do you wish to rejoin the team?"

"Yes." A little tension leaves him. And Kon, I notice. "Not that living with Alan isn't fascinating. I now have an encyclopaedic knowledge of forties and fifties superhero trivia, and it's been great-."

"Ah, Oh El?" Wallace looks around. No one in our immediate vicinity, but I can see people further away. "Secret identity?"

"Unfortunately, after the zombie attack… He doesn't exactly have one any more. It's not… Common knowledge, but it is out there. Look, Mister Garrick managed perfectly well for decades without-."

"No, he didn't. He got attacked, Joan got attacked and the companies they worked for got attacked a whole bunch of times because people knew where they'd be. Don't try and pretend it doesn't happen."

"Okay, I'll.. talk to him about improving his home security."

"And what about his family?"

"I don't think that any of Alan's old enemies are still active. Except Solomon Grundy, and he hasn't been seen for.. nearly two years? And anyway-" I shake my head. "-people don't go after the extended families of police officers."

Artemis winces. "They do in Gotham. Did, anyway. I don't think it happens so much these days, but it definitely happened." Richard nods.

"Alan's mostly been practising healing, but-" I raise my hands. "-okay, I'll mention it to him, see what he wants to do. But… Going back to the original question." I nod. "I would like to rejoin the team. I just didn't want to create ructions between you and the-" Kon gives my left shoulder a playful shove. "-League. So… What's the process?"

"It-." / "You need to talk to Batman."

Kaldur looks at Wallace in surprise. He makes a shrugging gesture with his hands. "What? Look, having Oh El back would be great. It's not like I want to try walking along a river bed for five hours. But he-."

He checks around us again, and I give it a quick ring scan as well. No listening devices I can detect, and at this point we're away from areas people usually go outside of work hours.

"Assassinated a member of the Justice League. He just said himself that the League might have a problem with him coming back."

Kon gives his head a small shake. "Batman was fine about him helping us fight Eliminations Inc."

Richard shakes his head. "Him coming back on the team means that he gets access to Justice League information. And authorisation. And it means that League members who aren't okay with him being back are expected to start teaching him again."

"Green.. Arrow…" Artemis looks uncomfortable as she says it. "Said he was fine with teaching him. I got the impression a lot of the League feel like that."

"I know Mom does."

Kaldur nods. "But in the League, decisions must be near-unanimous."

"Okay, I'll make an appointment with Batman. And not just appear in the Batcave this time. In the meantime, if there's anything you want me to help with… That's fine, no need for a full explanation."

Another nod from Kaldur, accompanied by a small smile. "Those of us who are not attending school tomorrow were going to follow up on some of these leads." Him, me, Canis, Roy, Garth, Tula and Zatanna… Maybe. "It would make things easier if you were with us."

"As long as it doesn't involve a fingertip search of the bottom of a major river again."

"No. Since we have a better idea of what the artefacts stolen can be used for, we are able to considerably narrow our search parameters. Though the search will still most likely be exhaustive."

I nod as Kon pulls open the door leading to the zeta tube.

"Sounds… More fun than today."

 

[Mr Zoat]

31st October
09:00 GMT -5

"Aqualad has informed me that you have an interest in rejoining the team."

I stand at parade rest in the Batcave. I'm mildly pleased with the situation, that this meeting was arranged so quickly, that there actually is a meeting, that I can't use basic scans to examine his equipment… And that Alan is going to have to stop making cracks about me 'getting a job'.

I pay rent.

"That is correct, Batman. None of my uplift projects require my continued input, I found you two magic users… At.. this point, it's that or found one of my own." Ah. "Another of my own, counting the Orange Lantern Corps."

"Doctor Mist has expressed a reluctance to work with the League in circumstances where we would be expected to intervene, and your handling of Angelica Blaze's reveal left a great deal to be desired."

"And yet, neither of them are parasites, and as such represent an improvement upon their predecessor."

Batman regards me impassively. "Doctor Mist has stated that if he saw a river surge and flood a populated area, he would leave the local people to drown rather than help them."

"Yes, I do appreciate that Doctor Mist's belief that natural disasters are 'natural' is a bit strange, but you needed someone who can fight the most powerful tier of magic using criminals and that's what you've got. He believes that it isn't his job to deal with problems that normal human society should be able to cope with, and… We know that building on flood plains results in homes being flooded, and yet.. it keeps happening."

"Do you agree with him?"

"No, because I believe that our objective should be to raise everyone else to our levels. I don't believe that we're 'apart' in the way that he does. On the other hand, I'm not as old as he is and it may be that once I've seen a few civilisations rise and fall I'll feel differently."

A slight inclination of his head. "How would you convince him otherwise?"

For a second I frown at the question, but alright. "Resocialise him. He has few friends and little investment in the particular lives around him. Change that, and he may be more open to interventionism. Or.. perhaps if you encouraged him to nurture those parts of modern civilisation which can resist threats of the tier you're recruiting him to fight, he would feel that it was acceptable until such time as those threats no longer exist."

"Plausible. Do you have similar plans for improving Angelica Blaze's public image?"

"No." I sigh. "A great many people have religious beliefs which are factually inaccurate. There is no way around it, no way to change their minds with mere evidence. The best I can think of is having her continue her mercy missions and to not have anything to do with me."

Batman nods. "While I still do not approve of your handling of Nabu, I have no objection in principle to you rejoining the team."

Great! "Thank you-."

"Other members of the Justice League may, however. I am aware that you have talked things through with Wonder Woman and Green Arrow, but as I understand it you have not spoken to most other members of the League."

"No, not… About that. I didn't think that restarting that argument was a productive use of my time."

"The team was founded to train the next generation of superheroes. I -and most other members of the League- have assumed that its members will eventually become members of the Justice League. While in the short term, it is likely that 'restarting the argument' would harm your working relationships, I also believe it is the best way to repair them in the longer term."

Oooooh great. I mean, I've spent time with Arnus due to Lantern Xor's upcoming trial and with the Lanterns during training, but we've never addressed the point directly.

"And if I do that..?"

"Then you will return to the team's active roster and be expected to take part in team activities. Including lessons."

"And I will endeavour to approach them with an open mind."

"In the intervening period, I do have a few tasks it would be helpful if you could perform."

"I've.. already offered to spend today helping the team."

"These do not need to be attended to immediately."

I nod. "Okay then. What can I do for you?"

He turns away, activating his computer terminal and bringing up an image. A group of superheroes; a man in light power armour and a youth in an ill-advised body stocking, flames churning around his hands. A woman in black and green and a woman in gold and red.

And is that Flamebird?

"Superhero teams are far from being a new phenomenon. Even the Justice Society wasn't the first such alliance. But recently, large numbers of unconnected superheroes have been provided with improved equipment and training by an organisation called 'The Alliance of the Just'."

"Sensible. I did say the League should consider doing something like that."

"Given that the head of the Alliance is Vincent Edge, you may wish to reconsider your endorsement."

Ah. Vincent Edge, believed but never proven to be the founding father of Intergang. I suppose the skill set is somewhat familiar.

"I thought he was retired."

"He had a successful heart transplant early this year, and appears to be as physically sound as a man of his age can be. Despite your stated views on the matter, the Justice League is not an umbrella organisation for superheroes. If all that is happening is that he's had a Damascene conversion and wishes to redeem himself, then there is nothing about this which warrants League intervention. However, my concern is that this is a cover for an act of large scale criminality."

"Are all of these people..." I languidly wave my hand in the direction of the screens. "Known quantities with a history of heroism?"

"Most are, some are not." He takes a data stick out of the console and hands it to me. "While in other circumstances I might ask the team to investigate this, their increasingly public roles as partners of members of the Justice League make such an approach somewhat overt."

"I'm a known Justice League affiliate."

"You have also missed several missions undertaken by the team due to your resignation. I have also allowed controlled leaks to take place indicating that you have had a falling out with your mentors."

It is true.

"Any problem with me including Alan in this?"

"Since you have not yet rejoined the team, this is not an order. As such, you are free to proceed in any way you choose."

"Thank you. I'll-" I raise the data stick. "-get right on that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

31st October
18:58 GMT -5

Today was… Nice. Just Tula, Kaldur and I attempting and largely failing to find any further leads on the rash of thefts while Garth and Canis did little better.

Querying the families of the deceased produced… Nothing actionable. They reported that the people who disappeared had been mildly confused and a little distressed before their disappearances… Which could indicate a chemical compound being used to alter their thoughts, or a form of telepathic control that has brain damage as a side effect. I'm not aware of any currently active telepaths on Earth whose abilities work like that, and from what M'gann told me martian telepathy generally doesn't have that sort of effect.

Canis seemed to be enjoying himself, less from having me back and more from the sheer disregard for life shown by the perpetrators of the thefts. He and Garth were able to track one of the escaped thieves down, but sadly whatever kills them doesn't require them to be capable of moving. Whatever they stole had already been moved, and an analysis of the site yielded no clues about where it had gone.

And now I've got a meeting with-

"Hey! Orange Lantern!"

-Arnus, to talk about the Nabu situation. I wave with my right hand as Raquel flies over the Dakota City skyline and comes up alongside me. "Good evening, Rocket."

"You here to see Icon?"

"Yes, I.. phoned ahead. Batman wants me to talk about Nabu with everyone in the Justice League before he'll sign off on me rejoining the team."

She frowns. "Why do you want to come back on the team?"

"Because it's where my friends are? Why?"

"I'm only on the team until I can join the Justice League. That's what it's for, ain't it? I mean, you're already an official Lantern, you're in a Lantern Corps… What do you get out of it?"

"If you put it like that, what do I get out of joining the Justice League?"

She blinks. "The zeta tube network? Cooperation from police all over the world? You get to look like a legitimate hero, rather than some guy in glowing armor?"

"My abilities as a Lantern are at their strongest when I fight beside people whom I identify with most strongly. I'm better with the team than the League. And it's not like I can't do my own thing in my own time."

"It would make Mister Scott happy."

I nod. "That's the best reason, but I'm not in a rush on that front any longer."

"Why? Did he stop being old?"

"Yes, effectively." She blinks. "Oh, were you not in the loop on that? I got him a new lantern, and he's now elementally enough that as long as he wears his ring he won't decay."

"Huh. Okay then. How's the.. search thing going?"

"Since I haven't been told what we're looking for, I'm not completely sure. No significant further progress was made today…"

"It's statues. Weird little statues."

"I.. don't think you're supposed to-."

"Are you gunna tell anyone how you found out?"

"Nno."

"You can't look for something when you don't know what you're looking for, can you?"

"I suppose not. Are you continuing the investigation this evening, or doing-" Arnus flies out from behind a block of flats and we alter course to meet him. "-local patrolling?"

"Local. Icon doesn't like me being out late on a school night." The three of us slow as we get to within speaking distance. "Where do you want me tonight?"

"I believe that Sadler would benefit from your oversight this evening. There has been a small spike in rates of petty theft lately."

"I'm on it." She turns in the air and accelerates northwards with a wave.

Hm. Okay. While I know 'Augustus Freeman' reasonably well -at least on the professional level- I don't know Arnus at all. Not his.. distinguishing characteristics. I know the things which he's done from Justice League records and Raquel's mentor boasting contests with Wallace, but on a personal level? Almost nothing.

"Is it appropriate to call you 'Arnus'?"

"It is a name for which I no longer have any use. Since we are in costume, I believe that 'Icon' would be more appropriate."

"Alright. As I.. said in my message, Batman has made my return to the team contingent on me talking about the Nabu situation with all members of the League. Personally, I'd rather have drawn a veil over the whole thing. So if there's anything you want to ask me or.. volunteer, now's the time."

"Why did you request that Wonder Woman's lasso be used during your testimony?"

"Spite. Oh, and the reasons I stated at the time. I had roughly planned to storm out, and having to repeat myself might have interrupted that."

"Spite. Because the lasso symbolises not merely factual truth but divine truth. Because you wished to indicate that you would speak honestly even when totally in the League's power, telling us something we did not wish to hear."

I nod. "Pretty much."

"In the Cooperative, we learned to be cautious of primitive truth compulsion techniques. The evidence indicates that they often bias the answers given. Do you believe that the character of your own answers was influenced by the lasso's magic?"

"Once or twice, yes. Generally, not sure. But I had intended to be confrontational from the start and didn't say anything that I regret substantially."

He nods. "Is there anything which you would like to ask me?"

I have been wondering… "Why was slavery abolished in the US in eighteen sixty five?"

His eyebrows rise very slightly. "I was referring to my negligent treatment of Giovanni Zatara."

"That's between you and either your god or your conscience, as you prefer. You telling me now won't change anything. But if you want to…"

"Slavery was abolished in eighteen sixty five because that was the earliest point after the civil war at which the legislation could be passed in the House and the Senate, and then ratified by the States. Can I safely assume from your question that you are curious as to why I -who arrived in the United States in eighteen thirty nine- had not taken action to end it sooner?"

"I'm curious as to your reasoning. Your life pod reconstructed you as a baby, and you didn't know anything about Earth society. On the other hand, by the time you were… Say, fifteen? You would have known enough, and you were powerful enough that I don't think anyone around at the time could have stopped you."

"Because I believe that Earth society needed to learn to deal with the evil of slavery itself. To struggle with its conscience and learn from that struggle, rather than have a solution imposed upon it by a single man. I take it that you disagree?"

"In cases where the provocation is sufficient, yes. Slavery, slaughter, mass mutilation and mass mind control would result in me intervening, more or less regardless of other factors."

"I cannot swear to you that the route I took was the best for Earth society. I am aware that in the short term many people suffered who could otherwise have been saved. Are you certain that your interventions have maximised utility?"

"Not certain. I don't think a person ever can be."

He looks away for a moment. "I did not intervene in the matter of Nabu's occupation of Giovanni Zatara because I believed at the time that the arrangement was truly voluntary. I did not know that their joining could function without the host's consent. When you.. confronted us and I became more fully informed, I was surprised that other League members had allowed that state of affairs to continue. I certainly do not approve of Nabu's actions."

"And mine?"

"I found them disquieting. But I cannot say with any confidence that you were in the wrong."

I nod, following his gaze. "Anything else, or shall we spend the rest of the evening on crime prevention?"

"I have no further questions at this time."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st November
11:35 GMT -6

Miss Shimmer eyes me warily from just outside her laboratory door as I approach. "What are you doing here?"

I blink. "I live here."

She frowns. "No, I mean, why are you here at my lab?"

I smile. "I'm trying to show an interest in your work?"

She closes her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. "I haven't made any progress working out how to recreate the portal to Morgan le Fay's world-."

"No, no." I hold up my right hand. "Not with the work I set you. With your own studies."

She shakes her head again. "I'm not doing anything that's got anything to do with-."

"Sunset." I tilt my head to the right. "I'm trying to show an interest in your work. Just… Being sociable, subletting landlord to tenant. I'm not demanding, I'm just aware that.. I haven't been paying as much attention to you as I have to some of the other residents except when I need you to do something."

"And you've got nothing going on right now."

"And-. Well." Ah… "I'm not exactly rushed off my feet at the moment, but when you're as powerful as me there's always something you can be doing. And let's be honest: you're a lot more independent than the children are. But." I lightly lay my right hand on her left shoulder. "I do want to make time for you. You're a valued part of the team, and that needs to work both ways."

She looks at me for a moment, then turns her head away. "Yeah. Okay, sorry, I-." She exhales. "I'm still not-." She looks uncertain.

"You're expecting me to do a Celestia?"

"No." She irritably brushes off my hand, then sags slightly. "Maybe? I don't know. I'm not good at… Social.. stuff."

"I used drugs to turn myself into a giant grey mutant and lied to everyone about it." I shrug. "None of us are perfect."

"Um. I guess."

"And I thought you and Iname were getting along well?"

"I-." She turns away and places her palm on the door's scanner. "Can we just talk about work?"

"We can talk about whatever you want to talk about."

The door slides open and I follow her inside. Hm. I remember a television series I watched back on Earth Prime where a wizard used lights to project a magic circle on the ground. Far easier to program it in and then press a button than to draw it out every time. Miss Shimmer has taken a more lego approach: metal parts designed to tessellate with one another are arranged in a warded enclosure or stacked neatly at the side of the main workshop. I don't recognise the particular configuration, but that's a decent opener.

I gesture towards it with my right hand. "What's that for?"

"Hm?" Miss Shimmer has responded to my intrusion into her territory by going right to her work station and metaphorically hovering. "Oh, ah, I was trying to…" She looks away awkwardly. "It didn't work, I just haven't needed the space, and I don't like the genomorphs being in here without me."

"What was it..? Supposed to be for?"

She hesitates, then shrugs. "I've been trying to use what I've learned about thaumaturgy to recreate unicorn magic. Wilson unicorn magic, not fae unicorn magic, however that works."

"Every failure is a chance to begin again more intelligently!" She gives me a black look. "How did it go?"

"I thought… Now I can use Earth magic, I thought I could build some sort of conversion device. Based on what I know about unicorn magic I came up with models for how it could work…"

"That's science for you. Come up with a theory, test it, and if it doesn't hold up then you know how the universe doesn't work."

She shakes her head. "I don't think I'm wrong exactly. But… I don't think magic on Wilson works like it does here. I-." She frowns at me. "Do you actually read the books you get for me?" I shake my head. "Ugh. Some of it matches up with what works here, but I think some of the… Not the operating principles exactly, but… Some of the constants are different?"

"So no wizard to unicorn converter?"

"It's theoretically possible, but…" She shakes her head. "It would take years to work out what the differences were." She shrugs. "I mean, without access to Equestria."

"Have you tried asking Zatanna for help? I got the impression that her talking backwards thing worked for just about anything."

Miss Shimmer's jaw tightens. "Yeah, that…" She huffs. "It just feels-. Stupid. Using a magic I don't understand to cheat. And.. talking backwards!"

"How are words more stupid than glowing keratin?"

"Because I grew up with one and not the other. And it's not like-." She throws her arms up a little and starts pacing. "It's not like I didn't know there were other ways of manipulating the environment using magic. When I was a little filly I used to nag the palace gardeners to show me how earth pony magic worked."

"Because you wanted to learn how to be an alicorn."

"No! I didn't even know that was possible until Celestia showed me myself in Starswirl's mirror as an alicorn. And then-." She looks like she's swallowed something unpleasant. "Celestia wouldn't tell me anything about becoming an alicorn. After a while I thought that maybe she just didn't know, or maybe it was symbolic or something. Then…"

"Then..?"

She shakes her head. "Some pegasus pony managed it. One moment wings, next moment wings, horn and about ten centimetres taller."

I nod. "Which.. means that Cel-."

"Yeah, which means she was lying to me the whole time. It's not like I was serious when I said I wanted to dissect her!"

I nod. "Dissections are for life, MRI scans are every six months."

"Exactly! I mean, we didn't have MRI scans, but I could have done something." She throws out her arms wide this time. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Follow Friend Computer's wise and benevolent guidance like a good meat robot."

"What? No, we don't have computers. I was supposed to mindlessly follow Celestia's orders!" Her pacing naturally turns her away from me as I briefly consider explaining 'Paranoia' to her and decide against it. "But yes! 'Meat robot'. That's exactly it!"

"But getting back to your work..?"

"The only example of Equestrian magic on Earth is this end of the portal. And I don't think I can build a laboratory in Filly-. In Philadelphia."

"Might be difficult. I could probably get a temporary one authorised…" I frown. "Is there any way to move it?"

"I don't-." She turns around, frowning. "I don't know. Celestia called it 'Starswirl's Mirror', but I couldn't check its provenance. And she wouldn't let me study it either."

"I didn't notice any particular object on this side. Is the anchor point in the air? Does it move… Actually, if there's been a portal there for who knows how long, is there a way to detect other examples of Wilsonian magic on Earth?"

She frowns again, this time in thought rather than frustration. "Actually, there… Should be. Let me just do some calculations."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st November
23:20 GMT +6

Rain hammers into my construct umbrella as a construct riverbank springs into being, monsoon surge now being channelled away from the village and farmlands. In the dark my rings show me Kal-El going to work, grabbing people out of the water and lifting them to safety.

Ring, show me the whole of the river channel.

Compliance.

A couple more places are likely to breach. I extend the construct and lift its sides, increasingly replacing the channel of the river. I can't help but feel that this shouldn't be happening. Monsoon rains are an annual event. The fact that this river is the course the waters are taking shouldn't be a surprise. Why wasn't this area better prepared?

"Superman to Orange Lantern. Having any trouble?"

"No, sir. I'm directing the surge downstream now."

"Are you able to deepen the channel?"

Which is a sensible thing to ask. It would have been even more sensible to ask the local civil engineer six months ago, but this is an emergency response. We wouldn't be here if someone had asked that. Moving earth is of course well within my abilities…

A better question is: do I want to?

The people suffering the effects here are not individually at fault, but someone around here is, and they're living on a flood plain. Not far away from here, people make the entirely sensible decision to build their homes on stilts precisely because they've adapted to these conditions. This village hasn't.

No, I don't want to. Not strongly enough to do a full and proper fix. I can keep my current construct up all night, but beyond that…

"No, sir. I'm afraid not. I've got some building materials in subspace; I should be able to shore up this bank-."

"Can you dam the river for a few minutes?"

The area immediately adjacent to the river is uninhabited for tens of metres. I might not want to wipe the Bangladesh government's arse for it but I genuinely don't want these people to drown on my watch.

Agh, should have grabbed a Dolmen gate or two…

"Yes, sir. Say when."

My environmental shield wavers as he appears next to me. "When."

I expand my construct to the left and right of the bank at the same time as I block off the end. Water flow downstream cuts off immediately and Kal-El darts off in that direction. Of course, water doesn't stop coming. I'm building up a decent size reservoir here. Which is actually easier for me to manage than a small volume would be, as it being here is my fault and there aren't reasonable civil engineering solutions to this quantity of water being dumped on you.

And while I'm doing that, Kal-El-.

Oh. Goodness.

I assumed that he was going to improve the river channel himself. And it's not as if he was asking me to keep the water off for his benefit. He might need to breathe, but he can hold his breath for a significant period of time. I had thought that he might not want to risk sloshing the water out with the speed of his actions, but it's not that. He didn't want to scald the area with superheated steam.

I'm flying, so I don't feel the ground rumble as he hits it and forces his way through. I do see the glow as he melts the river bed and shoves it aside, the molten material cooling just enough to stay more or less where he puts it. And he's moving really fast; he's already further away from me than I could see with my unaided eyes in daylight. The channel will have about… Three times the volume when he's finished. More than enough for normal monsoons and certainly a start for the local people to improve upon if they so choose.

I suppose when all you've got is a hammer, you learn to get really good at fixing things with a hammer.

"Looks good from here, sir. How far are you planning on going?" I wait for a moment. "Sir?"

Of course, that's a problem with having communications gear that isn't Kryptonian-tough. Magma and molten glass aren't too healthy for portable radios. Okay, he's got that end covered, and once he's finished I'll be able to release the water faster than it's coming in. It'll be rather dull if he has to dash off, but if he can stick around then-.

"And done." Kal-El reappears next to me, easily catching his falling radio out of the air as he does so. He sees me looking at it. "Batman gave me a lecture after I destroyed the first one of these."

"That was impressively well timed, sir." He shrugs, apparently considering timing ploughing through molten rock precisely enough to catch an object he threw up before he started just a party trick anyone could learn. "Should I let the water go now, or leave it for a bit?"

"If you're managing okay, let's give it a minute or two." I nod. "You wanted to talk about something?"

"Yes, but-. This river shouldn't have overflown, right?"

"No, it shouldn't. And I think I know just the mild-mannered reporter to find out what happened to the levee maintenance budget."

"Is the Daily Planet interested in that sort of thing? We're a long way from Metropolis."

"The Planet has an international edition. And it's always worth knowing where your foreign aid money is being spent."

He knows Mr Mason better than I do. "What I wanted to talk to you about was Nabu." He raises his eyebrows very slightly, but doesn't interrupt. "Batman wants me to talk things out with the entire League before letting me rejoin the team."

"I.. see. I'm a.. little surprised that you want to keep learning from us, given how things were when you left."

"If I don't understand why you do what you do, I can't correct the thought processes that lead you to doing it. Either for you or for the next generation. And I really do find it easier to identify with the rest of the team."

"I'll admit, after what you did to Nabu I'll probably feel better having you where I can see you." He semi-smiles at his semi-joke. "I'll tell Batman that I don't have any objection to you returning to the team."

"Thank you, sir, but I think he rather wants us to talk about Nabu a bit first. I'd just as soon not, but…"

"In that case… You made your views and motives very clear, so I suppose you're finally ready to hear mine."

"I was ready to hear them any time you chose to volunteer them. I just didn't think it was a productive thing to spend time on."

"I -on the other hand- think it's an excellent use of my time to make sure you don't kill any more superheroes. And since you're rejoining the team, take this as my first lecture. If you're getting into a situation where you think you might end up having to use lethal force talk to your teacher first. You're a smart-" Don't. "-kid, but not even Batman sees all the angles."

"I gave Nabu a chance-."

"A chance to surrender, which you almost certainly knew he wouldn't take."

I look away for a moment. "Actually, I was hopeful that he would. I assumed that as a being of Order he'd be rational about it, put our personal enmity aside and do what makes logical sense." I look back at him. "So you believe that I should have taken a chance and raised the matter with Diana or Batman?"

"In your case, yes. You clearly brought other people in, so I take it that you had a way to avoid Fate's detection."

"Not one that would have been reliable for someone in frequent close proximity to him, but I could have risked it. But after you brought him into the League, I didn't think the risk was worth it."

"We can't teach you if you don't listen to us. And we can't answer your questions if you don't ask them."

"Alright. I can listen. But I should not have had to prompt you about something like that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
12:56 GMT -5

"Hail, Lantern!" Marcus Aelius floats upwards as the Washington police deposit two people in suits into the back of a police car. "What brings you to Washington?"

"Lunch." I hold up a picnic basket. "If you're hungry?"

"I believe-" He glances down as the police pull away. "-that I can spare some time. But please tell me that you haven't brought dormice?"

"Ah… I haven't brought dor-." He bows his head slightly. "I thought Romans-."

"I spent ten years on Virmiron, and have spent a further three on modern Earth. And even in my youth, I thought that the fixation on dormouse-eating was a bizarre affectation of the idle rich. There is no time for faddish diets on campaign."

"I apologise for my assumption. All the.. more for me?"

"Hah!" He floats past me, heading in the general direction of Rock Creek Park. "I've eaten dormice before." I head after him, and we both accelerate as we go. "It is simply that when people discovered I was actually a Roman Centurion it was all anyone who hosted me put on. I have no wish to offend my hosts…"

"But I imagine that it got a bit tiring?"

"I come from Greater Germany! I visited Rome twice in my entire life!"

"So, for future reference, less dormice, more sausage?"

"If you're really trying to score points with me, bring something you've hunted and killed yourself with a bow or a spear." He lands on an area of open grass. "We could get a permit to roast it."

I take a couple of power armour safe seats out of subspace and deposit them next to him. "You know, I was going to ask why you stayed in America rather than going back to Italy. But if you're ethnically German-?"

"Bah. I went back to visit." He tests the seat before trusting it with his full weight. "The mountains are the mountains, and the Rhine is still mostly in the same place. But after nearly two thousand years there was nothing about the people that felt familiar."

I take the other seat, putting the picnic basket down between us and construct-lifting out tubs of salad, eggs, cheese and a small loaf of bread. "And Italy?"

"The Roman Empire was confident, proud, strong and aggressive." He pulls a plate out of the basket and uses a small energy blade to cut off a piece of bread. "Modern Italy… No people who worship their past could take its place. These United States are the closest I've found."

He watches with unconcealed amusement as I lift out the honey-glazed dormouse tub. Wolf.. seemed to like it. "If I may ask..?"

He chews a piece of bread, then swallows. "I doubt that you invited me to lunch for an autograph."

"Why did you become a superhero when you came back?"

"As opposed to a soldier?" I nod. "My alien tutors showed me examples of barbarity and harshness undreamt of by the most brutish barbarian or the cruellest tyrant. It all made.. political expansion seem… Trite. Trivial. I was told -and fully accepted- that I would serve Rome best by serving as a bulwark against such things. And then I returned…"

Yes. I imagine that was a shock. I've tried and failed to come up with a species that engages in interstellar travels using devices that can muck up time dilation so badly and would be inclined to train up local heroes.

"I had half-expected that upon my return I would found my own legion with which to defend the Earth, but in my absence…" He looks around. "The Earth was not inclined to wait for me." He adds a hard boiled egg to his plate, along with some carrots. "And you? What was your reason?"

"I originally said it was for self defence; I wanted to learn to protect myself in a clearly insane world. Having had a great deal of time to think about it…" He watches closely as I take a bite of dormouse. It's… Okay, though I'm still not sold on sweetened meats. "I think it was more about taking the opportunity to… Have a wider impact on the world in a way I just didn't before. Not that being an administrative assistant didn't have its own… Charms?"

Well. Sometimes.

"It is perfectly natural to want to make your mark. But is that really what you wanted to ask me?"

"Just trying to get a feel for your character. I usually-. I used to speed things up by using empathic vision, but… I got told that was creepy."

"So..?"

"Two things. The first and most simple is that Vulcan wants a look at your armour."

"Really? He didn't seem much interested when we met two weeks ago."

"He didn't-? Wait, you mean the superhero Vulcan."

"Yes. Naturally. Is there more than one of that name?"

Probably. "There's the forge-god."

He looks at me a little uneasily. "Normally, I would scoff. But after your turn in the theater, I believe that you may be serious."

"He and Hephaestus have been remodelling Mount Etna and-."

"I'm a Christian."

"What?"

"Certainly, the faith has changed from how it was practiced in my day, but surely you knew that-."

"Yes, I knew that the Roman empire converted, but-." I shake my head. "Didn't you used to swear by-?"

"Force of habit. Do you yourself not find yourself calling out to the Lord God when under stress, despite being a professed devotee of Discordia?"

"Not.. so much now, but I did. So… Shall I tell him 'no'?"

"It… Might be best. And the other question?"

"I wanted to ask about 'The Alliance of the Just'."

He nods. "Would you not be better off enquiring directly with its director?"

"Oh, I will be talking to him sometime soon. But I wanted to ask a member first."

He nods, and takes a bite of carrot while he considers his response. He certainly doesn't seem bothered by my asking. "I can stop muggers all day, but in order to maximise the utility of doing so I must also ensure that they are convicted and that their support infrastructure -fences and the like- are arrested too. And then… I'm not a police officer, and while I am tolerated here I do not automatically gain access to police information resources. The Alliance has their own database, which they share freely. All they ask in return is that I share my own case files so that other superheroes can benefit from them as well."

"Is that all?"

"I don't require training, either physically or in legal matters. Though I do see the value in them offering such to others. They also offer forms of insurance which people in our profession might otherwise find it hard to get, and attempt to negotiate working arrangements with police forces. I don't know if you keep track of superhero arrest rates..?"

"No. In fact I wasn't aware that a significant number did get arrested. America has traditionally been very tolerant of vigilantes."

"The ones who get arrested generally don't get called 'superheroes' by the newspapers." He jabs at me with a carrot. "If you're so interested, why don't I introduce you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
13:47 GMT -5

"…base themselves here, but the Justice League do virtually no policing within Washington DC itself. And intervening when the Hall of Justice is attacked feels… Strange."

I had rather assumed that a former Roman Centurion would be less sociable than this, but Marcus is actually quite pleasant company. And.. now I'm.. feeling mildly guilty for putting him on the 'low priority' Justice League membership list, more useful for the Pax Romana than for himself. His ship has FTL and some weaponry, but it's designed as a mobile infantry command post rather than as a ship of war. If it had been an actual warship, I'd have prioritised him a little higher.

"Trust me, their internal defences aren't that impressive."

We land in front of the office building which the Alliance are using as their head office. Budding superheroes aren't expected to come here in order to register, but apparently setting up an organisation dedicated to supporting pro-social law-breaking is easier from the capital city.

"So… How does the training work?"

"Some are online affairs, but I understand that they want to run on-site seminars as soon as they get enough interest." He leads the way through the revolving rooms and into the lobby. "I've told them that I'm willing to act as a tutor."

"For active superheroes or people thinking about starting out?"

"Either. Though personally, I'd wait until they'd been active for a few months before inviting anyone." He waves at the receptionist, who picks up his phone. "I think that too many journalists and other such rubberneckers would turn up otherwise."

"Maybe they could just give a discount. 'Five dollars off per scar'?"

"Would it not be better to reward those without-? No, that unfairly benefits those with superhuman resilience or regenerative abilities."

"So they do charge?"

He nods. "At cost. This organisation is a charity, but things must be paid for-" The lift doors open. "-somehow. Ah, Vincent!"

"Marcus! Always a pleasure." Mister Edge walks a little awkwardly out of the lift, visibly putting weight on his cane. "And Orange Lantern. What brings you here?"

"When the leader of a crime syndicate starts hiring superheroes, it sounds like a trend I should monitor."

"Ah." He nods. "Batman send you?"

"I'm not formally affiliated with the Justice League at present. However, if I had to guess how he felt about it…"

Another nod, then he turns towards the reception desk. "Patrick, hold my calls for an hour, will yah?"

"Sure thing, Mister Edge."

Mister Edge looks up at me. "We should probably have this discussion in private."

"As you wish."

Marcus and I follow him as he leads the way down a side corridor and into a small meeting room. He gestures to us to take a couple of seats, then closes the door and activates an instrument panel. Ring?

ECM field detected. Ring function not impaired.

"Can't be too careful." He makes his way over to the opposite side of the table and-. I push the chair out with a construct for him. "Mm, thanks." He sits down very carefully, putting his walking stick across his legs. "Welcome to my offices. Only moved in last month, so things aren't quite fully set up yet."

"I… Had understood that you were fully recovered. If you're not up to-."

He shakes his head, waving his right hand dismissively. "I'm probably better than I think I am. You have one heart attack, you never want to have another. And that's kinda why I'm doing this. I know it looks fishy as all get out, but..." I turn up my empathic vision. No, that would be too easy. "You met an angel, right?"

"I've had that… Happen."

"And you met a demon right outside the Hall of Justice. And I had a heart attack." He shrugs. "I know a man having apprehension about his own mortality isn't the best reason for… You know… Some of the things…"

"Some of the things you're alleged to have done."

"Yeah." He looks away for a moment, then shakes his head. "Ah, hell. No point lying about it now. I've done more than enough for God to damn me. And I don't think I've got all that long to make up for it. It's a-" He lightly taps the left side of his chest with his right hand. "-warning. A reminder. I've got money, my wife's dead and my son's companies are all legitimate. I want-. No. I need to give something back."

"Why superheroes?"

"I bought off dozens of police back in the day. Never bought off one guy crazy enough to come at me with his trunks on the outside. Someone crazy enough to fight like that could do anything."

Marcus smiles. "With proper organisation."

Mister Edge nods. "No one can say I don't know the law. Or how crime works, how it pays. This is my… My expertise. And you're all in favour of rehabilitation, right?"

He's probably talking about Thomas and Tuppence rather than alluding to Jade… "Of course. What's the point of putting people in prison if you're not going to try and straighten them out?"

"God…" He looks away for a moment. "God handled the 'straighten out' bit for you." He takes a deep breath before returning his gaze to me. "So." He manages a small smile. "You going to haul me off now, or is there something else you want to ask?"

"One thing. Could you please take off your ward?"

"What, this?" He takes a small metallic plate out of his jacket pocket and lays it on the table. "That any better?"

"Yes."

I'm seeing a genuine desire to redeem himself, and as he said it's built up around an imprint of a very Old Testament sort of God, glaring down at him while he lies weak and helpless. Not.. unusual in itself, but fairly unusual amongst violent career criminals. I'm not seeing anything else that would cause him to change his mind, it's literally just fear of Jehovah's retribution.

But I'll take what I can get.

"Thank you, you can put it back on now."

"Thanks." He slides it back into his pocket. "Do I want to know what you just did?"

"I used.. 'exotic' means to confirm your story. And I see that you were telling the truth."

He nods, managing a small smile. "Glad to hear it. You know, I'd ask for your input in all of this, except I already know what you'd say?"

"Really?"

"I don't think classified Justice League reports just 'happen' to get posted through our doors."

"It is not Justice League policy to comment on leaks."

It isn't, coincidentally.

Marcus' smile broadens. "I read it as well. You argued intelligently for the League to improve its command and control capacities. Has your view found any favor?"

"I don't believe so."

Mister Edge raises his eyebrows. "We could always use new trainers, if you can spare us the time? Or any information you've got on supervillains that you're allowed to share. I know.. normal crime. With super crime I can't tell what stuff online is true and what's nonsense."

I do need to check out the rest of the organisation as well…

"I can share my own records with you. Not Justice League records, but my own observations." Two nods. "And in return? I was wondering if you could help me track down some thieves."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
17:21 GMT -5

Hub City.

Pre-Batman Gotham without the architectural pretensions. The bit of Illinois that the rest of Illinois likes to pretend doesn't exist. And… I don't know. It was a hole during prohibition, it's been a hole since and it was probably a hole before that if we had the data to know for certain. Detroit says 'we're not Hub City'.

And it's not worth fixing. If I arrayed all of the countries of the world in order 'most in need of intervention' to 'least in need of intervention', I'd still have to go through hundreds of places before this was my highest priority. America-crap is still America, and this place by itself doesn't manage to turn a first world country into a third world one. The effort involved to completely overhaul everything would be huge, and there are plenty of places where that could more usefully be done. A lesser effort -such as The Question is supplying- barely manages to keep the rot from spreading.

The people manning the morgue barely bother looking up as the faceless man pushes the door open and lets himself in. This place is… Not as clean as it should be. It's not dirty-dirty, but it's far from medical facility standards. I see… Broken locks and wear and tear. No one manning the front desk. The computer there still had a cathode ray monitor, and that was locked to the desk.

"Where is she?"

"That is-" Please don't. "-the question." He looks over to one of the mortuary workers, who is listlessly leafing through a newspaper.

He looks up. "What?" I get a momentary look of interest, then he goes back to looking at Mister Sage. "You know the deal."

"Not my case."

I can't tell where he's looking without scanning through his mask. Which it turns out I can still do. I suppose that not everyone can keep abreast of the latest in thaumaturgical developments as well as maintaining two identities. Bruce Wayne had an inherited fortune, Victor Sage has an ill-maintained lighthouse. Heck, I could have one of my rings alter my vision so that I can see his face as if the mask weren't there. But… I don't. Because ridiculous as doing this with a man with no face is, it would somehow feel more ridiculous doing it with a man with a normal face.

"You pay bribes now?"

"Fighting mortuary technicians takes too much time."

"Fine." I raise my left hand in benediction. "If I started paying bribes now-" Holly doesn't count. "-I'd never stop, but-" Up to date computer equipment appears, dirt vanishes and equipment shimmers orange and then is as good as new. "-I can stretch to giving you the equipment you need to do your job."

The man takes a look around. "Saves me an annoying job tonight." He eases his chair back, and languidly rises to his feet. "Right this way."

"What made you contact the Question about this?"

"Someone gets killed, someone gets paid off. Or threatened. Even if it's shooting a thief in some warehouse. Technically, this isn't a stand your ground state." He shrugs. "This time, nothing." He comes to a stop in front of a drawer. "Gotta get my payoff some how."

"At least you're-" He pulls out the tray, watching my face as he does so. "-reliable." The body is in reasonable condition, and the bullet wounds-. I frown. "Did the security guards report her saying anything after they shot her?"

He grins, his disappointment at my stronger than predicted stomach washed away by my 'out of town' attitude. "You think they're saying anything?"

"Do you have anything useful to add?"

He raises his hands and turns to walk away. "Close her up when you're done doing whatever you're doing."

I raise my left hand and run a scan. "Why did you think this was worth my attention?"

"Officially unidentifiable bodies are not uncommon in Hub City. But some effort is usually made to identify them in case someone will take exception. This one was genuinely unidentified. Not local or state."

Curious. "Not reported missing, or you're sure she's not from around here?"

"Not reported missing, no police record in state. Nothing in the Alliance database."

"Uploading police reports to the Alliance database might be a little problematic, even for superheroes with good working relationships with the local police." I lift my hand away. Ring, ruthlessly plunder databases until you have a match.

Compliance.

"The bullet impacts don't appear to have been the cause of death. She might have lost use of the arm, but…" Yep, same as the other ones. I create a scan of her brain. "See here?"

"An aneurysm?"

"Technically, yes. But not a natural one. There have been a significant number of thefts across America recently where any thieves caught died with this injury."

"A suicide implant?"

"No residue my ring can detect. And Maryanne Sugden, fifty four, from Missouri, had no criminal record. Just like the rest."

"Mind control?"

"It's possible, but it's virtually impossible to detect after they're dead, certainly impossible after… That."

"More questions. Do you know what was stolen?"

"If it fits the pattern of the others,-" Which Kaldur told me when the alternative was asking me to wait outside of the third pawn shop. "-an icon from a dead religion."

"Magic?"

"Possibly, but probably not. The thefts in progress we stopped just involved small unenchanted statues. There are spells that can be cast with things like that, but if that's what you're doing it's usually just as easy to carve your own." I dismiss the brain scan with a sigh. "Would the victim of the theft be willing to provide more information?"

He bows his head slightly. "Define 'willing'."

"Not that I wish to interfere with any ongoing investigations you're performing, but I see no need to be confrontational about this. We're investigating a death we now know whoever it was didn't cause. High muckamuck criminals usually take other organisations stealing from them very personally."

"True. Pride takes the place of actual honor. That may be enough to motivate him." He reaches out for the corpse, right hand passing over her blood splattered eyes and lightly touching her forehead. "The death of criminals doesn't trouble me. However, if what you say is true then she… Wasn't…"

"Question?"

"Strange." He withdraws his hand.

"What is?"

"When I first tried to fight the wickedness of this city, it overwhelmed me. I came to the attention of many evil men and a few evil women. I left, half dead, and sought a new approach."

"What sort of approach?"

"Do you know of Nanda Parbat?" I nod. "While there, I learned to listen to the spirit of the world around me. Even after death, I should be able to feel the echoes of a person's life. When I touched her, I felt nothing at all."

…

Oh dear.

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
18:44 GMT -5

Jeremiah Hatch stares moodily at me from behind his desk. "The hell do you want?"

There are two armed men behind me, but as far as I can tell they're just here as set dressing. Their guns aren't anything like powerful enough to harm me through my armour, let alone my environmental shield.

"Two days ago security guards in your employ shot a woman by the name of-."

"That was legitimate-" He waves his whisky glass in a vague motion. "-self defence."

"Surprisingly, you may well be right there." He frowns. "The woman's name was Maryanne Sugden, and as far as I can tell she had absolutely no motive to steal from you. No criminal record, no evidence of narcotics, no debt… I can't even work out why she was in Hub City."

"A regular mystery."

"Which is why I'm hoping that you'll be willing to help me. It looks like someone is altering the minds of innocent people and using them for theft."

"Not a bad line. Have to remember it."

"The programmed thieves kill themselves when captured or… Disabled. This makes the thefts difficult to stop, because we need to locate the perpetrator of the mental conditioning." I shrug. "Capturing the thieves gets us nothing except the responsibility to explain what happened to their family."

"So you think it's just some nutty costume criminal like the No Face?"

"I don't want to make assumptions at this stage. Costumed criminals usually have… Certain psychological tells which don't appear to be in evidence here. The thieves aren't uniformed, don't have any unifying characteristics at all, actually. No one is openly boasting about our inability to stop them…"

"You're telling me it could just be some guy in an office."

"It's possible. Given the… Low value of the items stolen so far, my guess would be some sort of test run for the process."

"Low value?! Those were antiques!"

"Mister Hatch, I am not an insurance claims adjuster. I am questioning you because I am interested in stopping someone using mind control, not because I am interested in any other types of crime which may be happening. I have.. rapidly become used to Hub City."

He actually smiles. "Yeah, it's a hole, ain't it? Kinda makes you want to burn the whole place to the ground and start over?"

"I don't think I'd start over. But please, any information which you may have neglected to share with.. whatever passes for legitimate authority around here, may serve to prevent things being stolen from you in future. And allow me to track whoever stole from you this time."

"And then what?"

"I stop them from doing it again. And then I study their methods and work out how to prevent anyone doing it again."

He smiles faintly, then pushes his chair back, gets up and walks over to the window. "And Hub City?"

"I don't want to spend more time here than I absolutely have to."

He nods, his back to me as he toasts his home city through the window. "Damn thing was, she didn't even really try to get away."

"Didn't she?"

He turns back around. "I spoke to the guys on duty myself. Needed to make sure none of them were in on it. But all their stories lined up and checked out. Blew the lock on the fence with a small explosive, rushed the warehouse and opened the door the same way. Got into the computer while the guards checked out the initial explosion, went right to the crate… Well, I still say they're valuable. To a collector, maybe."

"Statues?"

"Authentic antique figurines. I handle shipping all kinds of things."

"And they ignored everything else…" Wait. "Off the record, were there drugs in the case?" Ah, yes, I see there were.

"There's no cause for that sort of accusation. I'm a legitimate businessman."

"And the sad thing is, by Hub City standards you may be right. Can you confirm that there were other, clearly higher value items in the crate along with whatever was stolen?"

He nods. "Yeah, I think I can."

"Did they take anything else?"

"A few things got broken, but…" He shakes his head. "Stealing to order is a thing, right? Guess someone really wanted a statue of Satan."

"Do you have a picture?"

"Yeah." He walks back to his desk and puts his drink down. Then he takes a small key out of his pocket, unlocks one of the drawers and takes out a card folder. He opens it and flicks through until he gets to a picture. "Here."

Not 'Satan'. Cernunnos. Which breaks the pattern a little, as neo-pagan groups have revived his worship. Still, it's not a big thing, and we don't exactly know what the criteria are anyway. The statue itself looks old enough. The style is… First century, or maybe a decent replica. I'm not an art historian.

I make a point of visibly scanning it. "Thank you. I'm sure this will be helpful. You were.. saying that she didn't try to escape?"

He nods as he returns the paperwork to his drawer. "Two guys stayed on the gate, one in the control room watching the cameras and calling for backup and three went after the thieves. Two of them inside: dead woman and some other guy. They split up... Long story short, she was carrying what they stole so my guys went after her. The other thief got over the fence, and she tossed it to him right before running back inside. Security didn't notice she wasn't carrying it any more, and took a shot… Too late to get it back."

"The man?"

"It was dark." He shrugs. "Police found the car he got away in two days later. No prints."

"Genetic material?"

He frowns. "Where you think this is, Metropolis?"

Alright. A man, or an unusually butch woman. Possibly working alone, athletic and… That's it. I'll check the car, but it's not that hard to avoid leaving genetic material for a few hours. Then if the statue's warded I'm out of luck.

"Have you had any other thefts like this?"

"Where the thief committed suicide by security guard?"

I nod. "Or where the object stolen was a small and apparently low value statue?"

"No. Neither. Usually they try real hard not to die."

"Do you have any other statues like this?"

"No. And I don't think I'll get any." He picks up his glass. "Looks like it draws the wrong sort of crowd."

 

[Mr Zoat]

2nd November
22:26 GMT -5

"…really nice people." Alan sounds genuinely chipper, something that's been happening a lot more since he became 'active' again. "I'm not sure what's got Batman so riled up. They're good kids. If we'd been this organised back in the fifties…"

I glance over to where Mr Sage is meditating cross legged on the bonnet of the car used as a getaway vehicle for the man who robbed Mr Hatch.

"I don't think he's riled up, exactly. It's his job, what he does for the Justice League. He makes sure that potential problems are investigated so that he's ready if they become actual problems. If they're not, then great."

"You still in Hub City?"

"At the moment. I'm just taking a look at the getaway car with the Question."

"So… Are you coming home tonight..?"

"Well... Ah, don't wait up, but I'm currently planning to."

"That.. Question guy. Ah… See, there was this one crazy guy back in the sixties, wore a suit and a metal mask. The Question kinda reminded me of him. Is he on the up and up?"

"I think so. I remember the man you're talking about, and I think that if the Question were like him then the murder rate around here would be a good deal higher. And he'd be dead from the retaliation." I look over to him again. No, still not stirring. "He's trying to commune with the car at the moment."

"Is it a… Magic car?"

"No, but it turns out that he's a minor magic user. I haven't seen him do anything beyond basic psychometry, but it's one thing I can't replicate with my rings."

"Good luck with that. I'll see you when-. Oh! That reminds me. How far have you got speaking to the members of the Justice League?"

"Not.. much further. It's something I want to do face to face, and with secret identities and everything it's hard to find time."

"And I get the feeling you're not exactly eager."

"You're right, I'm not." I sigh. "Did you..? I haven't heard you say anything about having a falling out like this in the Justice Society."

"That's because we didn't. I don't know whether that was because we mostly stuck to our own beats or because we mostly had the same moral beliefs, but I honestly can't remember us ever having something like this hanging over us for any length of time. I mean, there was that thing with Sandy… But by the time any of us knew that he was okay… Mentally okay, Wesley had already fixed things."

"It's not really the same thing. Mister Hawkins had gone on a rampage before being contained. Yes, with the benefit of hindsight… Getting him somewhere isolated and checking that he was still crazy might have been a good idea, but I'm not sure how practical it would have been. And that's… Not what happened with Nabu."

"I know. I know. Personally, I'd just try and get it done as quick as possible. Try the people who'll argue the point with you the strongest, get it out of the way."

So… Hawks? Well, no secret identity problem there. "Yeah… You're right. I'll.. try and prioritise it."

"You do that. Okay, you have a good evening."

"Good night, Alan."

I let the phone construct evaporate, then take a few steps towards Mr Sage. The problem with self-taught minor magicians is that while they might get quite good at using their particular abilities, those skills aren't transferable to other parts of the arcane world. If he can do what he claims to be able to do, we could find something jolly useful. If he can't, I can't get someone else in to do it. It's not Ambrose's thing, and brute forcing it high magic style would be inefficient to say the least.

Mr Sage slides off the bonnet and onto his feet with a squeak of the suspension. "We need the key."

"For the car? I can just start it-."

"Without the key, the car is not whole. If it is not whole, then it cannot lead us." He starts pacing. "We need the key."

Ah. He's still in the trance. He's only semi-aware of his surroundings as he tries to do what the echoes in his soul are telling him to. He needs to do things step by step… How vital is the particular key? The thief will have touched it, but only briefly. The car was stolen after all, and we already know who the owner is. The key wasn't recovered, but I can create a replacement easily enough. I can't get the original key, and if he's trying to drive the car then walking the route probably isn't an option.

I fabricate a perfect copy of the key. "Question."

He snags it out of the air with his left hand without looking around, already reaching for the car door. We don't have authorisation to take the car anywhere, but he's already lowering himself into the driving seat and slotting the key into the ignition. For one moment I'm tempted to get into the car beside him, a residue of schematic patterns from before I could fly faster than light at will. Guy you're travelling with gets into a car, you get into the car as well, right?

Mr Sage closes the door and slowly accelerates. I remember from How To Succeed In Evil that driving up to a locked gate and accelerating in low gear is the best way to break it down. Fortunately, Hub City doesn't spend more on its impound gates than it does on anything else. A filament flicks out, unlocks the lock and opens the gate before Mr Sage can reach it.

He doesn't look at me or the gate, just accelerates and turns right when he reaches the road. Okay, this place isn't manned at night… I take a sheet of paper out of subspace, and… I don't have Justice League authority. I'm literally just stealing a car. Okay, accessory to Mr Sage stealing a car… Ah… 'Dear Madam/Sir, borrowing this car as part of an ongoing Justice League investigation, will return if reasonably practical. Yours sincerely, Orange Lantern.' I take an envelope out of subspace as well, put a fifty dollar note inside along with the letter because Hub City and deposit it on the front desk. Then I close the gate, lock it, and take off after Mr Sage.

He's driving… Erratically. Not that I know how he normally drives, but he's weaving-

A woman panics as he drives into the wrong lane ahead of her, and veers towards a wall for a moment before my construct catches the vehicle and deposits it in a nearby lay-by. Mr Sage comes to some sort of sense, getting back into the right lane and driving down… I think he's heading out of Hub City. He's just turned onto the main thoroughfare. Police… He just drove past a squad car and nothing appears to be happening. Oh, he's not speeding. They don't have any sort of car recognition device built into their vehicles. I think I've turned my cynicism up too far.

Empathic vision shows his mental focus as he manages to drive safely. I never actually watched John when he-. Okay, not safely, but he drove through that crossing in one piece and no one crashed. A few damaged brakes -I'll fix those- and he's still driving more or less regularly. I never actually watched John when he was riding the synchronicity wave. I've never seen what happens around him. Maybe this is why John doesn't drive, he just walks or gets a lift. I could ask Mr Chandler-? No, he'll be asleep now.

I send a message to the League and to the team. Just an update. I'm not really expecting to find anything other than an empty room with a few traces of temporary occupancy. That's been the pattern, after all. Still, it doesn't hurt to keep everyone up to date. Like my old manager used to say: any of us could be hit by a car tomorrow.

Mr Sage has left Hub City proper and is driving through what looks like it was some sort of suburban industrial estate. Most of the units are empty, but… He's stopping in a car park and turning off the engine. I transition downwards, appearing just in front of the car.

"Here?" He just stares for a moment, then opens the driver side door and gets out of the vehicle. "Question?"

"I can't hear it." He stares around in apparent confusion. "I can't hear it."

"Nice to know whoever it is has found a way to block you too. I was beginning to think I was being singled out. Shall we do this the old fashioned way?"