"I expected you to ask me out on a date sometime far into the future—not the very next day after getting my number," Aline said while sitting across from Alex. She had walked in cheerfully, only to find him already seated, calmly reading through the menu.
"I'm never dating you," Alex said flatly, setting the menu down. His serious gaze locked on her, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Aline's smile faltered, her cheer dimming just a little. She had been hoping Alex would give her the benefit of trust, even a sliver of hope—but his blunt words cut that away.
"Tell me the full reason you approached me; otherwise, you can forget the deal we had, and if I ever see you again, you will die," Alex said seriously, his voice low and hard, sending a chill down Aline's spine. She opened her mouth, then closed it after a moment, hesitant.
"Why did you approach me?" Alex asked again, calmer now, his eyes fixed on hers. Aline avoided his gaze for a beat, breathing slowly, then at last she began to speak.
"You shattered my dream…" she said with a downcast look.
Alex registered the weight of her words. He'd suspected much of what she'd said the day before was true, and he could tell that she wasn't entirely lying. Still — as Aline had made clear — she would only reveal the full truth if they were dating, and Alex had no interest in that. He didn't want surprises from a stranger; he didn't want to deal with this stranger and her problem.
"I shattered your dream? I'm pretty sure yesterday was the first time we met," Alex said lightly.
She shook her head. "I was locked away a while back, and to be free, I was given the chance to bring bad luck to you and Wonder Woman. I'm not sure if you remember the way Wonder Woman flew off, leaving you to deal with the crowd on the airplane? For my freedom, I was told to do that."
As she spoke, Alex realized where he'd seen her before: in that blurred crowd on the crowd where Wonder Woman was speaking. The pink hair had stuck out then, but faces were a wash when so many people gathered together, and he'd only given them a quick glance. Now, with the memory lining up, things clicked into place.
"The task was to simply force you into an extremely stressful situation. Whoever gave me that order wanted to see if your powers would react to your emotions," Aline continued, her voice quiet, her head still bowed, too frightened to meet his eyes.
"After all of that, I was finally allowed to go free. But even then, the only reason they let me out was because they wanted to see if your powers would affect me somehow," she admitted, her words sounding weaker the longer she spoke.
"I only found out about you after I saw Raven spending time with you. That pushed me to look deeper. On the surface, you looked completely normal, but with Luthor, the heroes, and so many others watching you so closely, it was obvious you weren't simple. So, I turned to magic and tried to look at you that way." She trembled as the words left her, her body shaking at the memory of what she had seen.
"I used a spell, one that allows a person to look directly into someone's soul… I saw your soul that day… and I've regretted it ever since," she said, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. The memory alone was enough to make her shake. She remembered how her hair had fallen down around her like heavy rain, how her body had convulsed as she threw up, as though every organ inside her wanted to escape. She had felt herself trapped, locked away, utterly helpless, horrified at the reality of what was walking around pretending to be human.
"I was left broken, shattered beyond repair. My whole life I had chased after power, always hungry for more, committing crime after crime to claw my way toward it. But then you came along… and you showed me a level of power I could never even dream of reaching." She lifted her head, her eyes wet and burning as they finally met his. "And yet… what do you do with that power?"
With all that power in your hands, you want to live a normal life? That's a waste… or at least, that's what I thought, until I saw you face Darkseid and then watched the embodiment of death appear," she said, her tone low and filled with fear. "I have been watching you… And to think that what I saw was only the tip of the iceberg of your powers. With just a thought, you so easily killed a being whose very existence was necessary for creation itself."
She laughed then, but it wasn't a laugh of joy. It was an odd, broken sound that carried with it the weight of defeat, helplessness, and a quiet acceptance of reality.
"I realized that in your shoes, anything would be possible. Ruling the world, or chasing power—those are just dreams of the weak, people like me. But maybe… maybe the ordinary life is worth so much more than I ever believed." Her voice softened as she continued. "So I gave it a try. I got my first non-crime job, found an apartment, and cut myself free from that old life of crime."
"For as long as I could remember, my life had been nothing but power—power is all that one needs. That was everything to me," she said softly. "And now… now I find myself enjoying the simple life instead. No longer do I live with the stress of constantly fighting heroes, where every battle ends the same, with me defeated. I don't have to think about that anymore." She paused, her voice trembling as she went on. "But yesterday, as I was getting off work, I was approached by someone. They told me that unless I put you through another test, they would kill me."
"So, I ran to you… But I was too scared to tell you the whole truth," she admitted weakly.
Alex studied her for a long moment, his gaze steady and unreadable. Then his eyes sharpened, a silent decision made, and he reached into her memory. What he found there was clear: the image of a man in a black suit, standing before her.
Alex entered the man's memory, sifting through the images and thoughts like turning pages in a book. From there, he quickly traced the thread to the man's boss, slipping into his mind without resistance. Then, pushing deeper, he combed through the boss's memory until he finally uncovered the root of the problem… Amanda Waller.
It seemed Luthor had once passed along information about Alex before abandoning his pursuit. Waller, unlike Luthor, had chosen to act on it, hiding behind careful layers of secrecy. Her orders passed through countless hands, each step designed to conceal her involvement and make it nearly impossible to trace the chain back to her. But she hadn't accounted for Alex.
Alex's ability to navigate memory was unlike anything else. By locking onto a single target, he could walk freely through their recollections. And if someone appeared within that memory, he could then lock onto them as well. To Alex, it was no different than locking onto them in reality. Through this method, he could move from one mind to another—entering a memory, then a memory within that memory—creating a chain that could continue endlessly.
Alex had learned this trick back in his past life. Many people had used methods similar to Amanda Waller's—layers upon layers of distance and deception—forcing Alex to adapt and master the ability to follow those trails no matter how far they went.
"Die."
Aline's body stiffened in horror at the word. For a moment, she braced for the end, only to freeze in confusion as nothing happened to her. Instead, the effect reached Amanda Waller. She suddenly found herself stripped of control, her ability to move or command anything below her neck completely gone.
Her body collapsed, paralyzed, her head the only part left responsive. Her eyes darted frantically, pupils shaking in horror as they caught sight of countless eyes shimmering within the shadows, all staring at her. One by one, those eyes faded away, leaving her alone in silence.
She realized instantly whose hand was behind this. This was Alex. It was exactly as Luthor had once described—except Alex was far more ruthless with her. The memory of her echoed too much of his mother's cruelty, and now Amanda Waller had become a prisoner within her own body, condemned to remain aware but helpless.
"You will start teaching me magic tomorrow, after which, you return to your normal life—and I will do the same," Alex said, rising from his seat. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Aline frozen where she sat. She felt as though she had just narrowly escaped death itself, her body still tense as the air seemed heavy around her.
***
"So, my children claim that I'm the reason our family is so broken. I'm only here so we can prove to them that it isn't me." Night, the mother of the Endless, spoke calmly as she sat opposite the psychotherapist.
"Well, why would she say something like that? Do you have anything that would make her think that way?" the psychotherapist asked, pen scratching against paper as she wrote something down. The small act was enough to make Night's eyebrow rise, the faintest spark of irritation flickering at the feeling of being judged.
"I can't think of anything. It's their fault for misunderstanding me, for refusing to see that all I want for them is the best," Night said calmly, her tone light and cold. She wanted nothing more than to leave this place as quickly as possible, but she remained seated. If Death thought these humans were somehow better than her, then let Death see this moment. Let her realize that the problem had never been Night—it had always been her children, who simply refused to listen.
"Okay, let's talk about your children. Start from the oldest to the youngest. Tell me about them," the psychotherapist said, his tone calm and professional. Night tilted her head slightly, considering the request for a long moment before answering.
"The oldest," she began softly, "he is the one who carries the most responsibilities. The weight of so much rests on his shoulders, and yet, out of all of them, he is the only one who bothers to make time in his day to come visit me." Her voice lingered on the thought, her mind turning to that child—Destiny.
"The second oldest is my daughter," Night said softly, brows furrowing as she looked back into memory. "She used to be such a bright, obedient child. I don't know what happened to her. Now she keeps as far away from me as possible—she's even the one who told me I'm the reason for everything wrong in her life."
She paused, the words carrying the weight of years, remembering a time before Death had become the selfish figure she was now.
"My third oldest is my son," Night continued with a quiet sigh. "I tried to help him—I asked only that he come live with me. But he rejected me. So he went on, and he died."
The name 'Dream' hung unspoken in the air as she recalled him, the sorrow in her voice clear, though controlled. Dream chose his path; he was tired of everything, and in the end, he was gone. Still, Night's tone held the lingering hurt of a mother whose son had left the only life she could imagine for him.
"My fourth son… I think it's him… yes, the one who is wandering the world," Night said softly, her tone flat with disinterest. Destruction—her fourth child. She acknowledged him, but honestly, she didn't care for him much.
"My fifth and sixth are twins. They are my favorites," she said with a rare smile. "I like how those two are always working together." The memory of them brought her a brief warmth; unlike the others, those two actually listened to her, and for that, she cherished them.
"Six kids?" The psychotherapist was stunned, unable to hide her surprise at the sheer number of children Night had named so far. He was about to ask more, but stopped when she noticed Night's expression shift. She seemed to be searching her memory, pausing as though trying to think of another child.