"Brucey," I said brightly as I approached Batman in my casual attire, wearing my old face. "I can't believe you made it." The disguise was simple—sunglasses and a hat—but effective. Bruce Wayne's body tightened slightly when he laid eyes on me. I'd apparently materialized out of nowhere, thanks to a masterful blend of Curtain, Stealth, and a new skill I'd picked up overnight.
Talismans – Lv 3
I'd copied the iconography I'd seen while with the sorcerers, repeated it until I could replicate it perfectly, and inscribed it onto Talisman paper sewn into the lining of several jackets. The result: my energy signature was masked enough to present as a high First-Grade instead of the Special Grade monster I'd become.
Batman hadn't come alone. Through the cacophony of the street, I could hear his backup coordinating.
Wonder Woman was in civvies several steps behind him. Zatarra stood on an invisible platform overhead, poised to strike with a spell at the first sign of trouble. Canary, Superboy, and Miss Martian were also present.
I laughed internally. Then Cursed. Every one of them was a perfect counter to my original skill set. I'd improved a great deal since then. Before the talismans, I even finally got around to eating Damien's finger and bits off Ernest's hand. I'd kept enough DNA to receive his technique.
Still, I didn't like my odds. I wasn't particularly worried about the bruisers. It was Miss Martian who worried me. She could shut me down with so much as a look.
Crum.
I wished I had put my fears aside and allowed her to help me develop some kind of mental toughness.
"Julius," Bruce said tersely. "You look well."
"For a guy who was tortured for a few months and escaped on his own, you mean," I replied.
Bruce winced. Then he looked at me with steely resolve. "We looked for you. You have to know that. We never stopped. When we finally closed in… you were gone."
I nodded, keeping my face neutral with Deception, and gestured toward the street. "Come on. Let's change venues. Too many people. Too many cameras. Your orbiters can follow if they want. I'm thinking the park."
I turned and walked off, and Bruce—unsurprisingly—kept pace. The others followed.
Robin's POV
"He's different," I muttered over the telepathic channel. "Calm. Way too calm. And he's taller." More muscular. And—if I were being painfully honest—slightly more attractive. I watched through Wonder Woman's eyes; the glasses she wore were transmitting the feed.
His face looked smoother, almost porcelain. You wouldn't be able to tell he'd been in hell for two months. But the real difference was in the way he carried himself. The tone of his voice. His smile. Everything was just slightly… off. Subtle enough that if you weren't looking for it, you'd miss it.
"I'm just glad he's okay," M'gann said. "I was worried."
I'd never admit it, but so was I. His kidnapping had cast a shadow over the team. Missions felt heavier—some we failed. Some turned out radically different without him. His absence changed all of us, even those who didn't particularly like him.
"At least things can get back to normal," Superboy said, pushing off the wall and following Julius and Bruce.
"When have things ever been normal with Julius?" I muttered. "Knowing him, he probably has something planned."
"Likely," Canary said. "He's putting on a performance. I don't know why. Neither does Batman. But he feels… off. Dangerous. Don't try to read him, M'gann. I get the sense it might not be safe."
"You're all acting like he's a monster," Superboy said. "He was locked up and tortured for two months after preventing Rhelasia from going to war."
"He's killed people," I reminded him. "A lot of them."
"So do police officers, mercenaries, and soldiers," Superboy countered. "I'm not saying don't judge him. I'm saying it's not the only thing he's done."
I grumbled but didn't push the point. The mental line went quiet until Wonder Woman spoke.
"We empathize, but it doesn't change what we must do today," she said. "He needs guidance and structure. I've been where he is. Fighting alone forces every encounter into a life-or-death situation. And without power or experience, killing becomes the easiest way to survive. His trauma only reinforces that. We cannot let him operate freely. His next fight could cause catastrophic collateral damage."
Her words sank in, and no one argued. I understood the unfairness of dragging him in like this after everything he'd been through, but I also understood why we had to do it.
Julius's POV
I inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air, then exhaled with my eyes closed. "Sixteen years alive, and I've never just sat in a park and… enjoyed it." I glanced at my watch. The poison I'd injected into the people I'd chosen days ago should be showing symptoms right about now. They had less than thirty minutes before they died unless they received the antidotes, which, conveniently, were all on me. Only I could administer them. Only I knew their identities and locations.
"Deprivation helps us develop an appreciation for things," Bruce said, and I smiled faintly. He, too, was watching my watch.
"Why did you call?" he asked.
"Nostalgia," I said. "Wanted to see the old gang. Check on everyone. How's Aqualad? I rebuilt his body, but trauma… trauma's harder to fix."
Bruce gave me a cautious look.
"I get the sense you're being facetious."
"Why?" I asked innocently.
"Your message. You made it clear you wanted nothing to do with us."
"I'd just escaped a prison cell. Forgive me for not wanting to be shoved into another. Poked. Prodded. And pressed for questions."
I watched for a reaction, but didn't receive one.
"What changed?"
"Time," I said. "Gave me perspective. Reminded me of what matters."
"And that is?"
"Stopping Artisan. Even if that means letting her live."
Bruce looked genuinely surprised. "You made your feelings very clear before your capture. Considering what she did to you, I assumed you'd be more—"
"Bloodthirsty?" I finished. "Don't get me wrong, I am. But I can put the needs of others above myself."
He didn't seem convinced.
"Or at least compromise," I added, "when there's more to be gained by doing so."
"I can understand that logic," he admitted. "Why New York? What's special about this city?"
"Alexander Whitmer," I said. "Artisan's money guy."
"We know," Batman replied, and my eyes widened briefly before pieces fell into place.
"You mentally interrogated someone," I said. "And wiped them. Only way to get around the vow."
"There are actually a few other ways," Bruce said, "but none available to you."
"So will you help me? Capture Adam. Freeze Artisan's assets. Stop her from launching her plan? I know she's about to make a major move."
Bruce studied me for a long, heavy moment, likely consulting with the rest of the team through a mental link.
"Yes," Batman said coolly, "I will help you. But you will enter a binding vow—your specialty."
"Oh?" My interest piqued.
"The Justice League will have at least half a dozen stipulations, but there are two non-negotiables. First: you join the team full-time under Aqualad's leadership. Second: you vow not to deliberately take a life."
"Even if my life is on the line?"
"Your Jujutsu Sorcery favors defense, and you'll always have backup. It won't come to that."
"And when this arrangement ends?"
"We'll negotiate then."
I checked my watch. Barely five minutes had passed. I leaned back, staring at nothing.
"You know, I met my father briefly," I said. "Master of countless Jujutsu techniques. Most powerful sorcerer likely to ever walk the earth. And he's watched my misery for nearly a year. You know what he told me about you?"
Batman looked curious—and slightly uneasy. "What?"
"That a lot of my trauma is self-inflicted. That I haven't tried hard enough to get along with you people. I wonder what he'd say if he saw us now—me offering help; you planning to leash me if I refuse. You've already decided what I am, haven't you, Bruce?"
"You leave a wake of destruction everywhere you go."
"I fight to survive. I won't apologize for not pulling my punches."
"You destroyed an entire facility in Canada. We saw Detroit. And is Deathstroke dead?"
"Who?" I asked flatly.
"You claim self-defense, but I see a pattern. The dealers in Texas. Killer Croc. Joker. Ernest. Lily. You hunted them. No one had a knife to your throat. We had deals in Gotham and Happy Harbor. You broke them both. If you think I'll make a third agreement without serious assurances, then either I misjudged you, or you have some kind of leverage you think will force my hand."
He crossed his legs. "So out with it. Why have you been looking at your watch?"
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