Happy Harbor Power Plant — Reactor Chamber
The wind screamed through the chamber now, tearing at steel beams and rattling pipes overhead. Sparks from overloaded transformers showered the floor like fireflies.
Wally was the first to break formation — because of course he was.
"Hey, Twister-sis!" he yelled, already a golden streak circling the cyclone of air around their opponent. "Ever tried catching a hurricane in a bottle? Lemme show you how it's done!"
He zipped tighter and tighter, lightning licking at the edges of his sneakers as the chamber blurred into a spinning carousel of motion.
On his pedestal of whirling debris, Mister Twister — tall, pale and sharp-edged, an unsettling grin behind his mask — didn't even flinch.
"Pest," he muttered.
One flick of his gauntlet and a solid column of wind slammed outward like a hammer.
"Whoa—nononono—!" Wally yelped as the air folded around him and sent him somersaulting backward.
He would've hit the pillar with enough force to pancake a normal human… if a black-and-silver streak hadn't appeared in his path.
Hadrian — Solaris — stood there like he'd been waiting all along, one hand casually plucking Wally from the air by the collar of his suit. His emerald eyes glimmered faintly as his cloak fluttered behind him.
"Gotta say, KF," Hadrian murmured as he set Wally back on his feet, "you're one hell of a boomerang."
Wally groaned, brushing himself off and muttering, "You're welcome for the distraction."
"Mm." Solaris was already moving forward, unconcerned.
Behind him came the rest of the Team: Kaldur with water-bearers drawn, Supergirl floating a few inches above the ground, her cape snapping, Donna spinning her glowing lasso around her wrist, Zatanna already chanting softly under her breath. Neville and Roslyn flanked Solaris like twin blades — Neville's pale green eyes alight with cold fury, Roslyn's crimson hair whipped wildly as she glowed faintly, dangerous and brilliant all at once.
Hadrian stopped at the center, his hands behind his back as though greeting an old friend in a garden rather than squaring off with a walking natural disaster.
His emerald eyes sparkled with amusement.
"You've got your audience," he called up to Mister Twister, his voice carrying easily through the storm. "Now… why don't you tell us what you want before I get bored?"
Twister sneered down at them, his mechanical voice booming. "I want a hero. Not children. Not half-bloods. Not a pack of self-important sidekicks playing soldier. A true champion—someone worthy of my power."
Donna's lips twisted in a smirk as she murmured, "Guess I'll take that as a compliment."
Superboy snorted from the back. "Guy talks a lot for someone about to get his ass kicked."
Hadrian didn't even blink. His voice dropped an octave, all velvet menace. "Funny thing," he said. "You'll find… we're a lot more than we look."
Kaldur stepped forward, calm but commanding, his voice a whipcrack through the howling winds.
"You endanger innocents," he declared. "If you truly seek honor, face us. Prove yourself against those here before you."
Mister Twister laughed. The sound grated like metal on glass.
"You?" His pale eyes swept them with disdain. "A water-boy. A bird in a mask. A Kryptonian child. A magician still learning her own name. And three hybrids who think godhood can be faked. You… are nothing."
Hadrian's smile only deepened into something sharp. "You keep talking like that, someone might start thinking you're compensating for something," he drawled.
That earned a snort from Neville and a laugh from Wally.
But Kaldur kept his focus.
"Miss Martian," he said firmly. "His mind. Find out what this is really about."
Megan hesitated, her fingers twitching nervously. "You want me to—? On… him?"
"Yes."
Zatanna crossed her arms, frowning faintly. "The League would never—"
Hadrian cut her off with a glance. His voice was flat steel.
"This isn't the League," he said. "This is survival. He's playing a dirty game. I say we oblige."
Kaldur nodded once, reassuring, his gaze softening slightly on Megan. "It is acceptable. He is no innocent."
Megan drew a deep breath and stepped forward.
"Alright," she whispered. "Okay. I can do this."
She placed her fingertips to her temple, her brown eyes going milky white.
Behind her, Donna muttered, "Finally. Five bucks says this shuts him up."
Hadrian smirked faintly. "Oh, he'll scream before he shuts up."
The storm itself seemed to hesitate, the winds faltering just slightly as Megan's mind brushed the outer edges of Mister Twister's consciousness.
Her face contorted as she pushed deeper.
"There's… something strange," she murmured. "He's… hollow. I can't… there's no…"
Then her eyes flew open, glowing brightly as she gasped.
"He's a machine!"
That revelation rippled through the Team like another thunderclap.
Neville's hands clenched, pale green energy sparking around his knuckles. "Figures," he muttered darkly. "Cowards always hide behind toys."
Mister Twister's laugh cracked across the chamber, distorted and mechanical.
"Clever girl," he rasped, his faceplate gleaming in the strobe light. "But too late. Too late to stop me."
"Too late for what?" Supergirl shot back, heat vision already flaring at the corners of her eyes.
Twister spread his arms wide, wind whirling faster around him. "To stop the storm! To stop my storm! By the time your pitiful League even notices, this coast will be drowning in my glory!"
Hadrian finally stepped forward, cloak swirling dramatically behind him as emerald light sparked faintly around his form. His voice was a low growl now.
"You know," he said, his tone all lazy charm with a razor's edge beneath, "I really don't like it when someone threatens my city."
The air around him shimmered as his Kryptonian–Homo Magi hybrid aura flared, heat and power rolling off him in waves.
Mister Twister faltered — just a little.
"Ohh," Donna murmured to Roslyn behind him. "Now he's mad."
Roslyn just smirked, crimson sparks dancing in her hair. "Took him long enough."
Hadrian raised one hand, curling his fingers into a fist, and his emerald glow intensified, swallowing the room in green-tinted light.
"Last chance, Tin Man," he said softly. "You stand down now, or I peel you apart piece by piece and use your carcass as a weather vane."
Mister Twister's answer was to unleash a roaring wall of wind, the cyclone spinning so fast it tore chunks of steel plating from the walls.
But this time, Solaris was already moving.
And behind him, the Team — Sentinel's fists blazing, Solstice radiant like a second sun, Supergirl rocketing forward with a sonic boom, Troia lasso in hand, Enchantress chanting, Aqualad summoning a wave, Kid Flash a streak of gold — surged forward in perfect synch.
"Let's show him," Hadrian said with a wicked grin, "what nothing looks like."
—
The storm inside the chamber shrieked, a whirlwind of debris and electricity that tore at the walls and roof. Sparks rained from sheared conduits. Girders groaned under the strain.
Miss Martian floated just behind the frontline, her hands trembling at her temples as her white-glowing eyes bored into Mister Twister. Sweat rolled down her temple.
Then, suddenly, her glow dimmed, and she let out a frustrated breath.
"I… I can't get anything more," Megan admitted, dropping lightly to the floor. Her voice was quiet, but resolute. "He's… hollow. Just circuits and programming. No human mind to touch. But…" Her brown eyes flicked up at the whirling figure. "It feels like Tornado. The same mental void. Calm at the center of chaos."
A beat.
Wally skidded to a stop next to her, throwing up both hands. "Oh, come on! Are you saying we're fighting Tornado in cosplay?!"
Donna smirked faintly as she twisted her glowing lasso between her fingers. "Wouldn't be the weirdest League hazing ritual I've heard of."
Neville stepped up behind Solaris, broad-shouldered and imposing even with the faint green glow of his runes. His black hair was matted to his forehead, his pale green eyes narrowed. "It explains everything. The theatrics. The contempt. The… convenient timing. This is a test. Tornado testing us."
Superboy cracked his knuckles, his jaw tight as he muttered, "If this is a test, I'm about ready to flunk him through the damn wall."
Up on his cyclone pedestal, Mister Twister—a pale grin barely visible behind the armor—laughed, shrill and delighted.
"Ahhh… so you finally see it," he called down, his voice distorted and giddy. "You think I'm him, don't you? Your dear mentor. Checking to see if his little birds are ready to fly!"
His turbines screamed louder, lightning forking off his gauntlets into the floor.
"You pass!" he declared. "And now… your final lesson!"
The wind tore chunks of concrete from the ceiling. The chamber became a deadly snow globe of shrapnel.
Hadrian—Solaris—merely raised his hand, his emerald eyes glowing faintly, and slammed his palm downward.
A shimmering shield of green light arced outward in a dome around the team. Lightning crashed against it with a deafening roar, splitting harmlessly into sparks.
Hadrian's cloak snapped behind him. His voice was calm, but carried a low threat. "Bad move."
Superboy crouched low, muscles coiling. His blue eyes flashed as he muttered, "My turn."
"Conner, wai—" Kaldur's warning was cut short as Superboy shot forward, a blur of black and red, and hammered his fist into Twister's chest.
It sounded like steel meeting steel.
Twister didn't budge. Instead, one armored hand lashed out in a thunderclap of wind and sent Conner flying backward. He crashed through a generator with a metallic screech and a plume of sparks.
"Conner!" Kara's voice rang out. She hovered a foot off the ground, her gold hair whipping in the gale, her blue eyes blazing with fury.
Twister just chuckled, wild and gleeful. "Ohhh… you almost had me believing you were ready."
He raised his arms as lightning coiled around him.
"Almost."
Then the air shimmered—and the Bio-Ship's massive silhouette materialized above them, its camouflage flickering out. It descended with a soft whine, cloaking the young heroes in a translucent field of invisibility.
Wally peeked out from behind the shimmer and grinned. "Ohh, now that's teamwork."
Roslyn—Solstice—stepped forward, her brilliant crimson hair alive with golden light, her freckles glowing faintly like embers. "Let's see how you like playing against someone your own speed," she said coolly.
She raised her arms, and a burst of magic crackled outward like a solar flare, tearing into one of Twister's turbines. Metal screamed as it sputtered, the wind faltering for the first time.
Neville—Sentinel—moved to her side, his own hands burning with intricate pale green sigils that floated like tattoos over his arms. "You test others," he said, his deep voice low and cold. "But how well do you fare… when we fight back?"
He thrust his palms outward, a concussive wave of magical force shattering the debris circling overhead, turning shrapnel into harmless dust.
"Nice one, Sentinel," Kara muttered, floating next to them with her arms crossed. Her cape flared as she smirked, heat vision sparking faintly at her eyes.
Donna—Troia—stepped up, spinning her lasso around her wrist. Her dark eyes gleamed. "Time to clip his wings," she said with a sly smile.
Beside her, Zatanna—Enchantress—began to chant, her delicate voice weaving shadow and light into sharp coils of spellwork.
Then Solaris stepped forward into the open.
His emerald eyes burned, his jaw set in grim confidence. His cloak whipped around him as if even the hurricane bent to him.
"You're not him," he said evenly. "You'll never be him. And you don't get to test us. Not anymore."
The Bio-Ship's shroud dropped. The Team emerged behind him like an army of gods.
Sentinel and Solstice blazing like twin suns. Kara and Donna poised like blades, Kaldur's water-bearers spinning. Megan floating slightly, her eyes glowing white, her fists clenched. Wally a golden streak at their flanks. Enchantress weaving her spell tighter and tighter, her black hair swirling in the charged air.
Even Conner stood again, battered and bloody-lipped but defiant, his knuckles cracking as he glared at Twister.
Twister actually… hesitated.
Hadrian's grin curved sharp and wolfish. His cloak flared dramatically as his magic thrummed in the air.
"Your move," he said softly.
The storm faltered.
Twister took a half-step back.
And that was all the opening they needed.
—
The charged air hummed with tension, the storm inside the chamber thrashing like a beast unleashed. Steel groaned as the tempest shredded pipes overhead, sparks crackling in the stale, wet air.
Winds screamed—then abruptly, from the eye of the maelstrom, Megan's voice cut sharply, clear and calm in the chaos.
"Everyone, listen up. I've got a plan. Follow my lead. Conner, hold your punches for now. Kaldur, buy us time. Solaris… you know what to do."
Hadrian — Solaris — ducked a jagged lightning strike, emerald eyes flickering with appreciation. Clever girl, he thought, lips twitching in a faint, confident smile.
Kaldur stepped forward, water-bearers already spinning into deadly whips. His voice was steady and unyielding.
"You shall not prevail here, Twister."
Mister Twister's laugh rang out—sharp, manic, and utterly unhinged.
"You have no idea who you're facing, boy!"
Then, the winds shifted. The cyclone roared louder, funneling into a violent vortex that ripped across the chamber. At its fierce center appeared Red Tornado—floating effortlessly on a pillar of charged air, his metallic visage impassive, voice calm and commanding.
"That is enough," Tornado said, voice reverberating with unyielding authority. "Stand down immediately. You are not authorized to escalate this conflict."
For a breath, the Team hesitated—eyes wide.
Wally zipped up to Donna, whispering in awe, "Did Red Tornado just show up? Or is this some kind of insane hologram twin?"
Donna smirked, twirling her glowing lasso, "Doesn't matter. Just play along."
Twister's laughter twisted darker, full of bitter amusement.
"Ah, my mechanical sibling! How delightful. But I am... superior!"
The two androids collided in a whirlwind of crackling energy. Tornado's controlled air clashed with Twister's chaotic storms; the chamber's pressure dropped sharply as they battled, floors cracking and pipes bursting under the strain.
Twister gained ground quickly, slamming Tornado to the ground with a blast that shook the very walls.
"You were never my equal," he hissed, claws lashing out to a panel on Tornado's chest. "Now I reprogram you into oblivion."
Tornado's voice distorted in a brief glitch.
"Unlikely."
Then—he shimmered. Green light poured from his frame, particles dissolving and reforming.
Revealed in his place, Megan floated with a sly smile, eyes glowing white and confident.
"Surprise."
Wally's grin was irrepressible as he zipped tight spirals around Twister, stirring twin cyclones of his own making.
"Bet you didn't see that coming, Tinman."
Twister faltered, thrown off balance—and that was the opening the Team needed.
Solaris stepped forward, his emerald aura flaring bright, cloak billowing like a tempest itself. He snapped his fingers, voice calm but deadly, "Team—hit him."
Without hesitation, Superboy lunged, fists blazing. His first punch smashed into Twister's chestplate, a metallic clang echoing as the android staggered.
Sentinel followed, a towering figure with pale green eyes glowing fiercely. His glowing runes flared as he hammered a crushing blow into Twister's side.
Solaris glided forward, strength laced with emerald magic, landing a strike that pushed Twister back another step.
From above, Supergirl descended in a sonic boom, fists slamming with such force the cracked concrete underfoot shattered further.
Troia's lasso whirled like a silver serpent, wrapping around one of Twister's arms tight. She launched herself forward, boot smashing into his armored chest, forcing a grunt from the android.
Last came Solstice, radiant and fierce. Her fists ignited like twin suns as she shattered the chestplate, sending Twister reeling toward the broken wall.
They circled him—relentless, coordinated.
Superboy. Sentinel. Solaris. Supergirl. Troia. Solstice.
Each landed blow heavier than the last, hammering the machine closer to destruction.
Finally, a crushing strike sent Twister flying through the ruptured wall, hurtling toward the raging sea beyond.
"Now, Kaldur!" Solaris barked.
Water-bearers whipped out, conjuring arcs of seawater that wrapped around Twister's battered form.
Electricity crackled through the water, sharp and brutal. A bright jolt surged, frying circuits as Twister screamed, smoke curling from the shattered armor.
Zatanna stepped forward, voice a melodic chant weaving ancient power.
Beside her, Megan's telekinetic grip tightened, cradling the ruined android above the waves.
Together, the two young mystics tore at Twister's damaged frame. Sparks and shards cascaded down into the sea like shooting stars.
From the shadows, Robin darted forward, eyes sharp beneath his domino mask. His hands hurled three explosive discs straight into Twister's core.
The blasts rocked the chamber's remains with muffled thooms, reducing the last fragments to rust and ruin. The pieces sank beneath the waves, gone for good.
The Team stood, breaths heavy in the calm after the storm.
Wally broke the silence with a grin and a theatrical bow.
"Now that," he declared, brushing off his hands, "is what I call a group project."
Solaris chuckled softly, emerald eyes gleaming with satisfaction as his cloak snapped behind him.
"Lesson passed," he murmured, voice low and sure.
For one fleeting moment, even the storm bowed in quiet reverence to their victory.
—
The air was heavy and wet with ozone. The shattered turbines sparked weakly, and the metallic scent of bloodless battle clung to the wind.
Mister Twister's mangled form hung limply over the waves for a long, tense moment, then crashed back to the fractured concrete. His armor hissed and sputtered, broken and smoking.
The Team stayed back, chests heaving, every eye fixed on the wreck.
Then, impossibly, Twister moved.
A hiss of hydraulics. The shattered chestplate groaned and fell away.
A man—a thin, pale figure with wild red hair and hollow cheeks—tumbled out of the ruined shell. He landed on his knees, arms raised in trembling surrender, his voice breaking with panic.
"No—no—stop! Please!" His freckled face was streaked with sweat and grime. "You don't understand! I'm just the pilot! This wasn't my idea—I was only following—"
"Stand down," Kaldur said firmly, striding toward him. His water-bearers crackled at the ready, his golden eyes cool.
But Megan floated forward before anyone else could react.
Her hair rose faintly as she hovered, her white-glowing eyes narrowing. She stretched out her hand, her mind brushing his…
…and found nothing.
No thoughts. No fear. No mind.
Just wires.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she lowered her hand and let the quiet horror settle over her face.
She lifted a jagged chunk of concrete with her telekinesis and floated it lazily above the man's head.
His screaming rose into a frenzy.
"No—NO! You can't—I'm human! Please—"
Megan's eyes stayed calm.
The rock dropped.
CRUNCH.
Silence fell like a hammer.
Wally froze, his hands still in the air mid-gesture.
"Holy—okay! Okay! Did… did our sweet little space princess just… splatter him?"
Donna's lasso slackened at her side, her dark eyes wide. Kara hovered a few feet above the floor, her blonde hair plastered to her cheek, watching in shock. Even Conner glanced up from rubbing his shoulder, his scowl faltering.
Robin was the first to move, his boots crunching over debris as he stormed forward, finger jabbing at Megan.
"Megan! What the hell?!" he snapped. "We don't execute prisoners! Are you out of your mind?!"
She turned her glowing eyes to him and smiled faintly, serene as ever.
"I knew he wasn't human," she said simply.
She lifted the rock again.
The crushed metal skull beneath was revealed—wires and sparking circuitry spilled where the "man's" head had been.
"Couldn't read his mind," she explained softly. "He was just another drone."
A beat of stunned silence. Then Wally let out a low whistle.
"Well, damn," he said. "Girl Martian's got claws."
Neville stepped forward, folding his massive arms over his broad chest. His pale green eyes glimmered, and there was just a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Efficient," he rumbled, his voice dry. "Smart. Brutal. I approve."
Roslyn grinned, fiery hair tumbling over her glowing shoulders.
"She did say she had a plan," she quipped.
Solaris finally moved. He strode forward, crimson cloak rippling behind him, and looked down at Megan with his trademark wolfish grin. His emerald eyes—brighter than the shattered sparks around them—were warm, proud.
"Well played, Miss Martian," he said. "That's what I call… decisive."
Kara floated down, her arms folded, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Didn't see that coming," she admitted. "Nice call."
Donna gave Megan a look that was half warning, half admiration.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," she muttered.
Zatanna leaned on her staff, her black hair tangled and her lips curved into a crooked smile.
"I mean… creepy as hell," she said, "but brilliant."
Even Conner muttered grudgingly as he dusted off his jacket, "Good work."
Jessica, still catching her breath near the wall, raised a brow.
"Not subtle," she added dryly. "But damn effective."
Wally zipped back up to Megan's side, leaning against her shoulder with a grin.
"You know," he said, "you keep pulling stuff like that, and you might actually be cooler than me."
"Unlikely," Roslyn called out, grinning.
Robin just sighed, running his gloved hands through his hair.
"Fine," he muttered. "Fine. Next time, tell us before you go full horror movie, okay? That's all I'm saying."
Megan floated back to the group, her faint smile never faltering.
"I'll consider it," she said lightly.
Solaris let his gaze sweep across the battered team, his smirk faint but undeniably proud.
"Well," he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the quiet, "I'd say this one's on our resident telepath."
Neville let out a low chuckle and clapped Megan on the shoulder with a heavy, rune-glowing hand.
"Credit where it's due," he agreed.
The rest of the Team nodded in silent agreement as they gathered in the middle of the shattered chamber.
In the ruined silence of the storm's aftermath, there was still triumph in the air—
—and it belonged to Megan most of all.
Hadrian—Solaris—caught her eye and gave her one last approving nod, his cloak catching the faint breeze as he turned toward the waiting Bio-Ship.
"Mission accomplished," he said, his emerald eyes glittering. "Time to go home."
And for just a second, the corners of Megan's mouth tugged into something sharper.
Because for once… she agreed.
—
Unknown Location — Secret Hideaway
The screens glowed like pale moons in the otherwise pitch-black hideaway, their flickering light painting cracked concrete and twisted steel beams in ghostly hues. Feed after feed showed the aftermath of Happy Harbor — the Team victorious, Mister Twister's ruined body sinking into the waves, and the crimson-cloaked Solaris standing like a king amid the rubble, head bowed, cloak snapping dramatically in the storm.
Brom Stikk sat dead center before the wall of monitors. He leaned lazily in a tall, battered chair that looked as though it had once belonged in a corporate boardroom. His legs were stretched out, boots crossed at the ankles, and his freckled hands were steepled at his lips.
And though the face on the monitors and the face in the chair were identical — pale, sharp-boned, with that too-wide grin — Brom wore none of the panic his android double had displayed.
His green eyes glittered in the glow of the screens.
Behind him, a soft chuckle broke the silence.
"Well," drawled T.O. Morrow, stepping into the light. "That could've gone worse. For one of us, anyway."
He was thin and foxlike, dressed in a sleek black turtleneck and tailored slacks that were dusted faintly with chalk from the machinery behind him. His tousled dark hair fell into his eyes as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the back of Brom's chair. His smirk was crooked and lazy.
"You seem… awfully calm, all things considered," Morrow said. "If I didn't know better, Stikk, I'd almost believe you're grateful you didn't climb into that tin can yourself."
Brom tilted his head just slightly, as though considering. Then his lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile — too sharp, too knowing.
"I am," he said simply. His voice was soft and unhurried, with just a hint of glee beneath the words.
That made Morrow snort.
"Of course you are. Why risk that pretty face, right? Not when you can send a puppet to take the beating for you. It's all very… you."
Brom chuckled under his breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched Solaris on the monitor, that emerald-eyed glare radiating even through grainy footage.
"Call it what you want," Brom murmured, "but tonight proved sending the drone was necessary. That Martian girl was more perceptive than I'd calculated. Too perceptive. And that… that boy… Solaris…"
His voice caught just a moment on the name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"They hit harder than the League gives them credit for," he finished.
Morrow made a quiet noise of agreement, walking a slow circle around the chair. He glanced at the static-filled feed where Solaris's team stood victorious, and then back to Brom.
"Yet here you are. Still watching their highlight reel on loop," Morrow said lightly. "Don't tell me you're disappointed. I'd hate to think I backed a sore loser."
That finally earned a laugh from Brom — quick and sharp and unsettling. He glanced over his shoulder at Morrow, his green eyes gleaming.
"Disappointed?" he echoed. "Professor… on the contrary."
He tapped one long finger against the monitor, freezing it on Red Tornado arriving at the scene minutes after the battle ended.
"This is exactly what I wanted," Brom said, his voice low and giddy. "The tracking program worked. That was the point. My little… 'performance'… bought us just enough time to sniff out the real Tornado's signal. Confirm his location. Observe his instincts. His patterns."
He leaned back into the chair again, stretching his arms out lazily as though the whole thing had been nothing but a rehearsal.
"And now," Brom went on, his grin widening, "we know. We know he was close. We know where he was. And most importantly…" —he gave a quiet laugh— "we know how fast he runs to his little birds when they start flapping too hard. He's… predictable. And predictable is…"
"Valuable," Morrow finished for him, his smirk faint but his tone amused.
Brom inclined his head, just slightly.
"Yes," he murmured. "Valuable indeed. Tonight was… educational."
Morrow cocked an eyebrow and leaned down close to Brom's ear, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Tell me, Stikk," he murmured. "What's the biggest thing you learned, hm?"
Brom's smile sharpened into something almost wolfish. He reached up, lightly tapping his temple with two fingers.
"Oh," he said softly, his green eyes locked on Solaris's frozen glare. "I learned exactly where to hit them next."
That earned a quiet chuckle from Morrow as he straightened up, his hands sliding into his pockets.
"Well," he said dryly, turning toward the shadows at the back of the room. "I do love it when a student surpasses the master."
Brom's laugh followed him into the dark — low, dangerous, and dripping with anticipation.
The monitors kept flickering.
And somewhere, in the blackness between screens, a file marked RED INFERNO: PROTOTYPE blinked to life.
—
Mount Justice — Workshop
The smashed husk of Mister Twister sprawled across a steel table in Red Tornado's workshop. Its turbines, cracked and charred, jutted at awkward angles; a faint curl of smoke rose from its shattered chest. Wires hung like sinew, sparking fitfully as the Team stood around it, their breaths still heavy, uniforms torn, bruises vivid under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Solaris stood at the end of the table, his crimson cloak draped across one shoulder, arms folded over his broad chest. His piercing green eyes — as though lit from within — swept over the wreckage with measured calm. There was no doubt about it: Solaris looked like he belonged in charge. Even now, after everything, his hair was only slightly mussed, his posture radiating confidence.
Next to him, Sentinel leaned against a support beam, hulking and silent, his black hair plastered to his forehead by sweat, pale green eyes narrowing as he glared at the mechanical carcass.
On the far wall, Solstice sat cross-legged on a workbench, wiping grit from her coppery-red hair. Enchantress — Zatanna — lounged beside her, flipping a stack of cards idly between her hands, lips pursed as she eyed the remains of Mister Twister with a dark sort of curiosity.
Supergirl floated a few inches above the floor, arms crossed, blonde hair mussed, her smirk unimpressed. Troia stood with one hand on her hip, looking elegant and lethal even at rest.
Robin crouched near the head of the table, staff in hand, examining the android's inner workings. His domino mask caught the light as he muttered, "Pretty obvious what his game was. Build a machine to sabotage the League's own machine. Frame Tornado. Maybe even scrap him entirely."
Kaldur's voice came low and steady as he stepped closer, water bearers at his sides shimmering faintly.
"That would explain the programming Miss Martian detected," he said. "And his peculiar… hatred of you, Tornado."
Red Tornado stood on the other side of the table. His red-and-gold form was motionless but imposing, his dark eyes unreadable.
Megan floated just above the floor next to him, her cloak still damp from the storm. She tilted her head toward the android and asked softly, "Is that why you didn't help us? Because… it was about you?"
Tornado finally spoke, his voice calm and mechanical but strangely final.
"It is not my function to solve your problems," he said. His head turned slightly, regarding each of them in turn. "Just as it is not your function to solve mine. You are a team. And a team must learn to face its own crises."
The words settled over them like frost.
Then, with the hiss of hidden hydraulics, Tornado straightened and turned for the door.
"This matter," he added, already walking away, "is closed."
His crimson cape flared behind him as he strode out of the workshop.
For a long beat, no one moved.
Wally, naturally, was first to break the silence. He slouched back against the wall, arms folded, his smirk curling like smoke.
"Well. At least he lets us handle our own messes. You think Bats would've let us? Or Diana? Or Uncle Barry?"
Robin rose to his feet, twirling his staff with a flourish before collapsing it back into his belt.
"Guy may be a heartless machine," he quipped, "but as supervisors go? Could be worse."
From the doorway came a faint, even voice.
"I do have a heart," Tornado said without turning his head. "And excellent hearing."
Robin froze.
"…Crap," he muttered.
Wally doubled over laughing as Robin's ears went pink.
"Smooth, Bird Boy. Real smooth," Wally said between snickers.
Kaldur stepped forward, laying a firm hand on Robin's shoulder. His dark gaze was steady.
"You should choose your words more carefully," he advised. "Especially here."
Robin rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.
"Yeah, yeah. Noted."
Solaris finally spoke, his rich voice carrying just a hint of dry amusement as he looked over the group.
"You'll all learn — eventually — that speaking after you think yields better results."
Donna arched an eyebrow at him, her smile wry.
"And you would know, I'm sure," she said.
Solaris's emerald eyes glittered with a faint smirk.
"Oh, I've made my share of mistakes," he admitted. "But they're better dressed than that one."
Supergirl floated down to stand next to Sentinel, brushing ash from her shoulder with a careless gesture.
"Still," she said, "we didn't do terrible. All things considered."
Roslyn hopped down from the workbench, planting her hands on her hips and flashing a bright grin.
"I mean, we're alive. He's scrap. That's a win where I'm from."
"Could've been cleaner," Neville rumbled, his voice low, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. "But it'll do."
Zatanna leaned her head on Roslyn's shoulder, still playing idly with her hat.
"You're all so grim," she teased. "We kicked his shiny metal—"
"Zee," Kara cut her off, smirking faintly.
"Fine. But we did."
Off to the side, Superboy had already started toward the exit, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Halfway there, though, he stopped.
He turned his head slightly toward Megan, his voice low and awkward but audible in the quiet.
"…Sorry," he muttered.
Then he walked out.
Megan blinked in surprise. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a soft smile as she watched him go.
Hadrian Solaris caught the look and arched a brow faintly, his emerald eyes glittering knowingly. But he said nothing — just adjusted his cloak and followed Tornado's path out.
Behind him, the Team lingered a little longer, bruised and battered… but standing.
Wally exhaled, long and low, and nodded faintly to himself.
"Not bad for our first big night," he said at last.
Kaldur straightened, a faint, approving smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"It is… a start," he agreed.
Robin glanced around at them — Wally grinning, Megan smiling softly to herself, Kara leaning on Sentinel's arm, Roslyn and Zatanna exchanging knowing looks, Donna watching them all with quiet pride — and even he had to admit…
Maybe… they'd figure this out after all.
For better or worse.
---
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