Chapter 5: Control Fracture
Thea's cold smile haunted Luke, a splinter of dread lodged in his gut as he paced the safe house's sterile confines, the faint hum of the ventilation system doing nothing to ease his nerves. The air was heavy with the chemical tang of new paint, the carpet's synthetic fibers prickling his bare feet as he kicked off his sneakers, their laces tangled from the day's chaos. The Mirakuru sample sat on a metal table, its blue glow casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls, like ghosts mocking his unease. He popped a piece of gum, the mint sharp against his tongue, and chewed aggressively, the snap grounding him. Mind control. Corporate poison. This is Malcolm Merlyn-level bad, but with a boardroom twist. His fingers twitched, itching to unravel the mystery, and he rubbed his eyes, the sting of exhaustion sharp.
He sank onto a chair, the metal creaking under his weight, and stared at the vial, its glow hypnotic. Thea's not herself. That smile wasn't hers. The memory of her hollow presence gnawed at him, a puzzle he couldn't ignore. He cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit, and focused inward, the System humming like a live wire in his mind.
[SYSTEM: DAILY ROLL ACTIVATED: DOCTOR STRANGE MAGIC (FACE 1)]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: MYSTIC ARTS. STAMINA DRAIN: MODERATE]
Need to know if this Mirakuru's tied to Thea's puppet act. Luke's breath hitched, his hands hovering over the vial, the air growing heavy. He channeled the magic into a low-frequency wave, not for portals or shields but for insight, the energy flowing from his fingers like liquid light. The air thickened, resistant, like pushing through warm honey, the vial's glow pulsing faintly in response. The scan revealed a psychic signature woven into the chemical's structure, a subtle frequency designed to manipulate neural pathways, chilling him to the core. This isn't just strength. It's a leash.
[SYSTEM: MAGIC SCAN CONFIRMS PSYCHIC SIGNATURE. INTRUSION DETECTED.]
[SYSTEM: MASTERY UPDATE: DOCTOR STRANGE MAGIC +10%]
Luke switched to empathy, pushing his awareness across the city to Thea at the Queen mansion. The sensation was a gut punch—a low, oppressive hum of external control smothering her frantic, stifled emotions, her usual fire caged and fighting to break free. His gum snapped loudly, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
[SYSTEM: EMPATHY CONFIRMS EXTERNAL CONTROL (90% EFFECTIVENESS).]
"It's not just the drug," Luke muttered, spitting the gum into a trash can, missing slightly, and cursing under his breath. "It's a mind hack. Isabel's steering her like a drone." Focus, Luke. You're not cracking this with bad aim. His mind raced, piecing together the data, his fingers drumming the table, the metal cool against his skin.
[SYSTEM: STAT UPDATE: INTELLIGENCE +3 (CRISIS ANALYSIS).]
His phone buzzed, Oliver's name flashing, but a crackling alert from Sara's private frequency cut through, her voice sharp and urgent. "Kill squad. Clock tower. Now."
Luke's heart sank—the clock tower was a magnet for tragedy, the place where Thea, under Malcolm's sway, would later kill Sara in the Arrowverse timeline. Too early for that, but Thea's already compromised. He didn't wait, his hands sparking as he opened a portal, the orange light draining his stamina like a siphon. He landed hard on the clock tower's gritty roof, the wind howling, tugging at his jacket, the city's lights a dizzying sprawl below. The air carried the faint scent of rust and ozone, grounding him as he steadied his shaking legs.
Sara was a blur, her batons clashing against three masked assassins, their blades glinting in the moonlight, her movements precise but strained. Luke's eyes darted to a lower ledge—Thea, calm and mechanical, her dark hair whipping in the wind, aiming a sleek energy device at Sara, its blue glow pulsing with that same psychic hum he'd sensed in the vial.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Luke screamed, sprinting toward her, his sneakers slipping on the dusty concrete, his breath hitching.
The System flared, a surge of power unlocking something new, its interface a lifeline in the chaos.
[SYSTEM: SEVENTH DICE FACE UNLOCKED: VISION PHASING (REPLACEMENT AVAILABLE).]
[SYSTEM: ACHIEVEMENT ALERT: MAIN CHARACTER SAVE - SEVENTH DICE FACE UNLOCKED. +100 EP.]
The System recognized the canonical threat to Sara, replacing Mantis Empathy with Vision's Phasing, the shift instantaneous. Luke's body shimmered, instinct taking over as Thea fired the device, a blue beam slicing through the air like a laser. He phased, the energy passing harmlessly through his semi-intangible form, a strange tingle rippling across his skin, like static on a cold day. He slammed into Thea, knocking the device from her hands, his momentum sending them both sprawling, gravel biting his palms.
"Mind hack fail, Thea!" Luke panted, crushing the device under his heel, its circuits sparking and dying, the blue glow fading.
Thea's eyes were wild, her breath hitching, confusion replacing the mechanical calm. "W-what?"
The assassins faltered, distracted by Luke's glowing anomaly, their blades hesitating. One lashed out, a poisoned blade nicking Luke's arm, pain flaring hot and sharp, the toxin searing his bloodstream like fire.
[SYSTEM: REGENERATION COUNTERS POISON. STAMINA DRAIN: CRITICAL.]
The regeneration burned through the poison, the last of his energy leaving him gasping, his vision swimming. No more healing. Just me now. Sara spun, her roundhouse kick dropping the last assassin, her boots scuffing the roof as she grabbed Thea, pulling her to safety behind a rusted vent.
"Sara! Get Thea!" Luke yelled, pointing at the railing, his voice hoarse as he stumbled, his knees buckling.
Oliver arrived, his boots heavy on the roof, his breath ragged with panic, his green leather glinting under the moonlight. He found Luke cradling Thea, Sara standing guard over the unconscious assassins, her batons still gripped tightly. The wind carried the city's distant hum, a reminder of the world beyond the fight.
In the Arrowcave's medical bay, Thea lay pale, her hand twitching faintly, the monitors beeping softly. Luke sat beside her, sipping a lukewarm coffee, its bitterness a poor substitute for rest, the cup's edge chipped from his nervous grip. Sara approached, her boots scuffing the floor, her eyes tracing Thea's trembling fingers, her face a mix of gratitude and horror.
"She was going to kill me, wasn't she?" Sara asked, her voice soft, almost breaking, her fingers brushing her neck where a faint scar lingered. "The League wanted me dead, but this… it was personal."
"Thea wasn't driving," Luke said, setting the coffee down with a clink, taking Thea's hand gently, its warmth a faint reassurance. He closed his eyes, his innate empathy—now a shadow of Mantis's power—probing for lingering control. A faint psychic scar remained, like static in her mind, but the leash was gone.
[SYSTEM: EMPATHY CALMS THEA. RESIDUAL PSYCHIC SCAR DETECTED.]
"The control's gone, but she'll be confused. Angry," Luke said, glancing at Oliver, who knelt by Thea's bed, his face etched with guilt, his hands clenched. "She needs to know it wasn't her fault."
"I should've been here," Oliver muttered, his voice raw, his knuckles white against the bedframe.
"You can't be everywhere, Hood," Luke said, a tired smile breaking through as he rubbed his eyes, the sting sharp. "That's why you've got a team of mildly sarcastic weirdos."
Sara's lips quirked, but her eyes were heavy, her fingers twirling a baton absently, a nervous tic. "You saved my life, Luke. Again. You're racking up points, Cupid." Her teasing lilt hid a deeper weight, the bond they'd forged in battle.
Luke leaned back, his chair creaking, his body heavy with exhaustion. "Guess I'm the team's ghost counselor now. Group therapy, anyone?"
[SYSTEM: BONDING MOMENT: LUKE/SARA. +15 EP.]
Oliver's gaze softened, a rare crack in his stoic mask, his fingers brushing Thea's hair gently. "You're not just a weirdo, Luke. You're our weirdo."
Thea stirred, her eyes fluttering open, confusion clouding her face. Luke's heart lifted, a small victory in the chaos. Saved one Queen. Now for the rest. He took a sip of coffee, grimacing at the taste, and stood, his legs protesting. The ARGUS threat loomed, the psychic Mirakuru a ticking bomb, and Thea's scar was a warning. Isabel's not alone, and we're running out of time.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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