Poison
The word sat on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. Once I did, everything would change. A fight was likely to break out—one I was only half-certain I could win without catastrophic collateral damage—and then there was the matter of fighting a war on all fronts.
Sure, I was slicker now, but the Justice League or Artisan would eventually corner me. Unless I somehow developed telepathy or went on an extreme offensive, I couldn't see a way to outwit and overpower Artisan and her cronies without mass death, and that was the last thing I wanted.
Worst of all, it would mean closing the door on resources and people I actually liked. As much as I hated to admit it, they were the closest thing I had to friends.
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them.
"You want concessions, Bruce? I'll give you some—but only for today. You need the information inside Alexander Whitmore's head, and so do I. And I know the sorcerers on the other side fairly well. How they fight. Their techniques. Their weaknesses."
"And why would I agree to that?" Batman asked.
"Because the alternative is fighting me here and now," I said. "Sure, you've got Wonder Woman, Superboy, Canary, Zatarra, and even the boy wonder—but don't count me out just yet. I learned a great deal during my captivity."
I shrugged off my jacket and watched Zatarra's expression tighten as my body erupted with Cursed Energy.
Batman's wrist device vibrated, and his posture stiffened with alarm.
"You're Special Grade," he said simply.
"You've been doing your homework," I replied, summoning a sphere of positive energy in my palm. The readings on his device climbed rapidly, and his hand slipped inside his jacket.
"Positive Energy," I said lightly. "It's how I put people back together. Only a handful of sorcerers are talented enough to produce it at all, and fewer still can weaponize it. That Maximum Blackhole that nearly killed the junior team? That's what a positive-energy-fueled technique looks like."
"I'm familiar," Batman said slowly. "Technique Reversal." His Japanese was crisp enough to make me blink.
"We left no stone unturned searching for you."
"So, you say," I mused, letting the energy dissolve. "Gina's original technique spiked the gravity in a localized field. She could crush a human body with a thought. Her reversal…"
"Pulled objects together," Bruce finished. "Blackhole. So your Technique Reversal expels energy instead of absorbing and neutralizing it."
I nodded. "Explaining my technique like this also boosts its effectiveness."
"A Binding Vow?" Batman asked.
I smiled.
"This is why you took us to the park," Bruce said slowly. "You intend to recreate what happened in Canada. Kill these people?"
"I would never," I said calmly, threading my fingers together. "But you said it yourself—I'm a wrecking ball. I've been stuffed in a box before and teleported into some distant cathedral in the middle of nowhere. I'm not going back. So work with me, or get the hell out of New York."
My voice cracked like a whip, and Batman subtly leaned back. His heart rate spiked a touch.
"Fine," he said. "You have your day pass."
"Good." I stood, checked my watch. "We can iron out the details soon, but first I need to make sure I don't jeopardize our collective future."
I vanished in a burst of speed, tapping deeply into my Cursed Energy. In less than ten minutes, I swept across the city, curing the people I'd poisoned, even if I didn't believe they deserved it. Soon enough, I returned, and the discussion resumed.
Bruce's POV
"Whoa," Robin muttered across the telepathic channel, hunched over his holographic computer. "This Alan guy is connected. He's been photographed with nearly every politician, CEO, and celebrity in the city. Rumors say he's tied in with local gangs and the black market."
He paused and looked around. "We may need to rethink everything we know about Artisan."
We'd switched locations after Julius returned, opting for telepathy to avoid violating the terms of the Vow we'd agreed to.
I had agreed to his stipulations of non-violence, non-retaliation, and complete honesty, and in return, he had agreed to heal us and not harm us, kill or maim his opponents.
Telepathy was our loophole around the honesty clause.
We discovered quickly that Julius hadn't run off to warn some random tech-savvy ally. He had sprinted across the city to administer cures to the criminals he had poisoned.
I had M'gann follow him in the Bio-Ship from afar, and what she saw broke her heart.
Now we stood in a semi-circle inside a safehouse, with Julius positioned on the edge like an observer.
"Did you find out anything about the metas?" Julius asked.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Robin snapped. "I'm hacking into the government databases in their home countries now."
He pushed a button, projecting seven screens. Nothing. No discussion of their abilities. Every one of them had simply disappeared at one point or another.
"And here I was hoping we'd be going in blind," he muttered sarcastically.
"What made you think they were meta?" I asked.
"Process of elimination," Julius said, as if it were obvious.
"They can't be enhanced soldiers—they wouldn't last a second against me. And I didn't sense Cursed Energy from them, so they had to be freshly minted metas—kidnapped or purchased out of their home countries, experimented upon, forced into Binding Vows, and made to play bodyguard."
It tracked. Artisan's meta-smuggling pipeline likely mirrored her sorcerer trafficking ring. Local crime lords and hospitals worldwide probably screened for people with the meta-gene. Julius's insight about the cloning chambers only reinforced the idea that Artisan could make metas now.
That was a new level of bad.
"You're awfully glib about her methods," Robin said sharply.
"As opposed to what?" Julius replied. "Sad? Angry on their behalf? It's pointless. The only way to free them is to kill the person they're bound to. And since you're not willing to do that, indifference is the only logical stance."
The room fell quiet.
"What about him?" I asked, breaking the silence. "Ade. Our interrogations revealed he's a Drill Sergeant and has been with Artisan since the beginning. Exceptionally skilled. Never failed a mission."
"What I wouldn't give to have telepathy," Julius whistled. "It would certainly make information gathering easier."
The older Leaguers kept their expressions neutral, but M'gann and Robin didn't bother hiding their revulsion. Julius either didn't notice or didn't care; his too-perfect face remained unreadable.
"Ade has what Gina called a Heavenly Restriction," Julius continued. "It's what you get in exchange for not awakening as a sorcerer. An extreme physical boost—enough to compete with the strongest Special Grades. I've heard him spar when they dragged me to my cell. He beat everyone except Artisan. After his Blockbuster Venom injection? He's going to be ridiculous."
He folded his arms. "Only Wonder Woman or I could survive a full fight with him. New York definitely wouldn't."
Superboy asked. "Counting me out?"
"Not at all," Julius said gently. "Strength isn't the issue. Speed is. Unless you've developed super-speed since we last talked?"
"I'm almost as fast as Kid Flash," Superboy said defensively.
Julius clapped his shoulder, grinned. "Not bad at all. I see you haven't been slacking off while I was gone. After this is done, why don't we—"
"—get back to the mission," Wonder Woman cut Julius off with a stern edge in her voice, and he briefly locked eyes with her before he did as asked.
He explained what to expect from Alan. High First Grade—nearly Special Grade—with a technique called Disaster Flames, capable of manipulating fire, magma, and constructs of both.
His right hand was a twenty-year-old martial artist named Ming with a technique called Missile Fist. She could create and launch massive energy fists with a snap. The largest Julius had seen was the size of her body. We were warned to avoid open combat.
Then there was Fia—First Grade—whose technique allowed her to paralyze targets with eye contact. Simple but extremely dangerous.
"I can tell you how I beat each of them," Julius finished. "That part's easy. It's the metas that concern me. Too many unknowns. A full fight would be disastrous. Maybe Zatarra can divine their powers. Or call the Flash—he could wrap this up before the conversation ends. Or Martian Manhunter—mindwipe would be simple for him. No offense, M'gann."
"The League is busy," Robin cut in. "The world doesn't stop because you come calling."
Julius shrugged. "Just a suggestion. Your call."
"Divination is not my area of specialty," Zatara said, speaking up for the first time in the meeting, "but I have a spell that might help us."
Every head turned toward him.