The New Young Justice Fanfic
Young Justice
The New Kids, Part One: Common Foe
***
Los Angeles, California...
He rolled over, his mind still numb and nestled within the comfortable folds of the dream world. It was those last few minutes of sleep before daytime slaps you full in the face with a harsh burst of light and consciousness, where your mind futilely struggles to remain in its safe, warm haven of slumber. Gently, two golden rays of light fell through the window, carefully touching his smooth features.
"Unh..." Cody Diamant rolled away again, unable to find coherency with only a foot out of the door into reality. His thick covers fell away, and he shivered as a cold draft touched his bare skin. Groaning, Cody reached over to touch the space beside him; it still held the lingering warmth of the body that had occupied it the previous night, but it was empty of physical form. "Bloody immortal lovers. Never stay the morning after..."
Cody pushed reluctantly out of bed; his body was filled with a pleasant soreness like it always was after Apollo's visits. The handsome Olympian was rather... demanding at times, but he could be equally attentive. He still allowed Cody to use his ancient scepter, an artifact of amazing power that was now lost in miniature form somewhere in the bedside pile formed by boxers and a pair of designer jeans. That scepter allowed Cody to take on the role of Phoebus, a super-powered advocate of human rights.
Cody stretched briefly to push away the lead weight of sleep from his long limbs and wrapped a robe around his body. A quick glance in the mirror showed his longish hair forming an unruly halo around his handsome face, which was creased in several places by the pillow.
"First thing," he decided after a glance at the clock confirmed it was only noon. "A shower."
***
Serille, North Carolina...
Bizarre things were commonplace in Serille, North Carolina. Dragons appearing from nowhere, snakes longer than school buses happily slithering along the sidewalk, hordes of lemmings charging down sidewalks. The people of this small town had grown accustomed to this.
So no one paid it any mind when they passed a young man strolling along a worn path. This would not have been a cause for alarm in any place, had there not been a dragon the size of a large cat sitting contently in his arms.
The dragon was covered in iridescent green scales, and it had wings as fine as gossamer arching from its back and glistening like dew in the rays of afternoon sun. Robert Checo delicately ran his fingertips over the dragon's spine. It made a noise halfway between a squeal and a purr and curved against Rob's touch.
"You're perfect." Robert, known more commonly as `the Gamer', had possessed his unique powers since a young age. For some time he had been able to animate monopoly pieces, draw items from video games, and even give life to living creatures from his Playstation. But it had taken him years to get that last part down so that every minute detail was impeccable.
After what seemed like an eternity, Rob had drawn this small creature from its nonexistence to reality. And it was indeed more perfect than almost anything else he had summoned.
The dragon wrinkled its scaled nose, pulled back its tiny, Saurian head, and sneezed. A plume of flame burst forth, curling upward before dissipating into the cool air. With a flutter of its wings, it leapt from Rob's hands and scurried off into the woods.
"Hey! Wait up!" It took Rob a few steps to catch up to his `pet'. "I guess you need something to practice your fire-breathing on... Hey..."
A few yards ahead, squatting amidst the sheltering trees like a brick toad, was a small building. It appeared to be some sort of office, even though the middle of the woods was an odd place to build such a structure. A sign bearing the words `Tangent Inc' in generic blue block lettering hung from its side.
Rob's teeth flashed as a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Ain't that convenient? Sturdy brick, so a little fire shouldn't hurt it too badly... Go ahead, little guy."
*FOOM*
Rob gulped, stepping back from the sweltering wave of heat that washed over him and holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the searing light. "Oops... Okay, that wasn't a little fire..."
He pulled out a small handheld device and closed his eyes in concentration. "Well, Starmie should be able to put that out..."
The dragon let out a frightened squeal, disrupting Rob's summon. He opened his eyes as a huge shadow fell over him. "Eh? Whoa--!"
Seven feet and several hundred pounds of gleaming metal floated before him. It was vaguely humanoid, and the barrel of what was unmistakably a firearm was leveled at the quivering dragon. Particles of bright, dancing light were clustered within the barrel.
"Oh shi-"
***
Washington, DC...
He moved with a leopard's sleek agility, his movements swift but radiating power. His lean form was barely visible, a whirling blur as it bounced across rooftops, sprinted with cat-like ease along a chain-link fence, and vaulted over a small stream. His long legs pumped fervently with the fierce speed of someone who was in a desperate race. He clutched the precious treasure close to him, feeling its warmth spreading up through his arms and chest. Everything depended on this.
A final vault took him to his destination. He pounded on the entryway, and when the object of his quest appeared, bathed in golden light, he spoke unhindered by his exertion.
"Your total comes to $16.75," Decon Ice greeted, handing over the pineapple and ham pizza and the side of breadsticks.
"Did you walk all the way here?" the balding, forty-something man asked in wonderment.
"Eh... I'm a marathon runner." The lie came easily to his lips as he accepted the money, cramming it into his pocket and sprinting off.
After dropping the money off at work, Decon was free to go about his own business... or rather the business of the self-styled `evil-fighter' One Shot Kill.
The winter night had come quickly and was crisp and cool, its harsh winds biting at bare skin and howling like a thousand wolves. The incandescence of the cat's claw moon scraped at the blanket of stars above. Rushing into his apartment, OSK pulled the blue `Dominoes' delivery shirt over his head and shucked it into the corner. In a whirlwind of motion, he changed into the black tank top, denim jacket, and cargo pants that served as his `costume' for crime fighting.
OSK send a longing glance at his small television, so old that it still had rabbit's ears and knobs that cause the screen to flicker when twisted. Curling up in front of it was certainly tempting, but there were more pressing matters. He slid his window open, and launched himself into the darkness.
He raced across the rooftops of Washington DC, his silhouette dancing beneath him in the silvery moonlight like a barely visible doppelganger. This was the sort of crime-fighting OSK loathed. He wasn't dumb by any stretch of the word, but he definitely preferred straight-up fisticuffs to the cowardly mind games played by so many of the `corrupt businessman' flavor of villains. Of course, those were the most dangerous ones, the monsters who used bleached smiles and Armani suits to cloak their unlawful `hobbies'.
Hobbies like coke running; the police reports of people possessing cocaine were growing exponentially. OSK himself had been following leads for a week and a half, and they had all lead here, to a warehouse that was still in use for storing furniture.
"That's weird," OSK mumbled to himself. "Why would they use a place that was still in business?"
OSK seemed to meld into the shadows as he stole towards a window well that led into the basement of the warehouse. He peered in, a lifetime of training as an assassin kicking in as he scanned the area.
Five guards... Armed, but lightly... And there's the boss, accompanied with loads of coke. This should take...One minute, tops.
Glass flew like bladed snow as he entered, feet first. A knife-hand strike dropped one guard as a bullet smashed into his collarbone, eliciting no more pain than a sharp pinch. He fell upon the remaining guards in a whirlwind of violence. They were all downed in less than a minute.
A startled cry came from the dealer himself. He was a greasy man, his swarthy skin glistening in the wan light. He wore a stained white suit, and had several packets spread out on the table before him.
Cursing, he spun around and tore towards the wooden steps. OSK almost seemed to float across the room as he landed a sidekick to the very center of his back. The dealer lurched forward, smashing painfully into the steps. OSK grabbed two fistfuls of his suit and jerked the man around, until he was inches from his face. Fear and sweat radiated off the dealer in a sickening wave; OSK recognized the scent from years of being around it.
"Okay, who the hell is letting you operate here?!" OSK snarled.
"Dear Jesus, I beg you-"
A sharp backhand cut the dealer off. "None of that praying crap... I really doubt Jesus gives a damn about you anymore. Now who the hell is letting you base your operations under a warehouse that's still in use?"
The man whimpered. "Demon..."
"You got that right, now tell me!" OSK snarled as the mental dam holding back the boiling waters of his demon nature began to buckle.
"I know you've heard stories about me. All you lowlife sons of bitches have. `One Shot Kill... he's a demon! He'll kill you! He'll rip out your intestines and swing you around by them!' Well, guess what... Those stories aren't true."
OSK moved his face in even closer to the dealer's, until the stench of fear became almost palpable, pressing against him in a feeble attempt to push him off.
"I'm much, much worse. Now who's letting you operate here?!"
"T-Tangent..." the dealer murmured. OSK's face darkened, and the dealer grew even paler. "Jerry Tangent!"
OSK nodded, satisfied. He recognized the name and knew where to find him; a quick teleport was all that was needed. "Good. Now you just gotta tell this to the police."
The panic eased slowly from the dealer's face. He inhaled deeply, and spat into OSK's face. The assassin-turned-hero recoiled, wiping the back of his hand viciously across his face.
"You little..." A crimson haze slowly inched across OSK's vision, and his blood rushed in his ears. One hand whipped out, grabbing the dealer by the face and driving his head back into the stairs hard enough to loose several splinters. The dealer began to scream, but OSK held fast, barely feeling the panicked kicks and punches. Soon, the dealer grew weaker. OSK could sense the life ebbing from him like water from a leaking pot, spilling out of his body until it was
drained and limp.
OSK pulled his hand away, as he felt his anger subside with the dealer's death.
"Crap. I really gotta work on my temper."
***
Serille, Maryland...
"Oh-God-Oh-God-Oh-God..."
He muttered the mantra under his breath, slurring the words together so that it came out as more of a continuous moan. A fine sheen of sweat was forming on his brow, from nervousness and the exertion of his sprint. Said sprint had taken him about a mile through the woods from the isolated office building.
Rob didn't even want to think of what the robot's attack had done to the dragon.
"I was gonna put it out!" he protested. The robotic monstrosity's soulless eyes held no mercy or understanding as it lowered the barrel of its bizarre firearm at its quarry. The whirring and clicking of the machine's parts filled the air...
...As a burst of energy caused it to explode into shining fragments.
A deafening roar split the skies, and Robert was nearly swept away by the force of powerful wind whirling around him. There was a sound crash as a creature, clad in armor of deep blues and oranges, landed a few yards away from Rob. It stretched its shining wings and thrashed a tail capable of shattering stone.
"Bahamut!" Robert cried. "What the hell took you so long? That guy nearly killed me! Damn Aeon... I miss the Eidolons. Too bad I lost my copy of Final Fantasy IX."
The dragon-like creature seemed to narrow its eyes in offense, but it simply snorted and shifted its gleaming bulk uneasily. Robert uncomfortably fiddled with the button of his newly acquired denim jacket.
"Yeah, yeah... I know you liked the little dragon, too. I was thinking about calling him `Draco'." Robert nodded sadly. His face hardened into a look of steely resolve. "You know what? I say we get the stuffy rich prick who did this back! I mean, just cuz I was trying to commit a harmless and easily fixable act of arson is NO excuse to kill my pet and try to kill ME!"
Gamer paused. "Hmmm... What was the name on the building again?"
***
Back in Los Angeles...
Cody, his hair tousled and his body clothed in a burgundy button-up and fashionably stained jeans, glanced once more at the clock.
"One thirty... Guess it's breakfast time..." he noted, strolling down the winding staircase. "I love winter break..."
The tantalizing scent of breakfast rolls fell over Cody, and he felt his stomach rumble in hunger as he hopped into the kitchen. His father had long since left for work, and his mother was probably out with her friends.
The rolls were collected in a basket on the table, and seated near to them was a woman late into middle age. She had darker skin, and her silver and black hair was pulled back into a bun, wisps falling out to frame a grave face. She was clad in a black dress and a white apron.
"Rosario! What's up? You look a little upset," Cody observed as he grabbed a warm roll from the basket. Rosario had worked for his family for years; she was like a second mother to him. His eyes fell to her hands, which were moving several glossy cards across the table. Beside them lay a newspaper.
"Look at the newspaper, Cody," Rosario replied in a voice still tinged with her Mexican accent.
Cody pulled the paper over to him, and read aloud. "`Last night, in East L A, several girls were found drugged in the basement of an office building. It is highly suspected that they had been kidnapped and were being sold into prostitution against their will. None of the girls were coherent enough to make comments. The manager of the building, Regional Manager of Tangent Incorporated, Matthew Moran, was taken into custody. The President and CEO of Tangent Inc, Jerry Tangent, has denied any connection to or knowledge of this occurrence.' That's... that's..."
He was at a loss for words as he gazed in shock at the picture. Several girls were being swaddled in blankets, led out of a dingy room by the police.
"Horrifying, to say the least," Rosario replied. "I also doubt that this `Tangent' is being entirely truthful."
Cody nodded. "Mom's friend, Miss Anne, says exactly the same thing... What do your cards say?"
Rosario flipped over a tarot card, revealing a colorful, glossy painting of a horned creature, with hungry crimson eyes and vermilion teeth splattered with blood. Cody shuddered at the image.
"They agree," Rosario confirmed. She turned her grave black eyes towards Cody. "What are you going to do about this?"
"Well, I plan to shed a little light on the situation," Cody replied. His fingertips brushed his belt buckle, where a tiny ornament resembling a golden scepter hung. His deep brown eyes flashed as if caught in the sun.
***
San Francisco...
OSK appeared in a dank alleyway shrouded in shadow. The mingled stench of urine and rotting food was overpowering, so he did not hesitate in making a hasty exit. He leaned forward for a few seconds, hands on his knees as he regained the energy lost from his teleportation. Using that specific power always left him feeling slightly tired.
In a moment he was ready. He stood up to his full height and scanned the area. Buildings loomed upward all around him, attempting to brush the star-studded belly of the sky. Cars rolled calmly past, illuminated by the myriad lights. Like Washington DC, San Francisco was awash with the Holiday spirit. Strands of multicolored lights hung everywhere and a jolly Santa Claus winked merrily from behind the window of nearly every store, occasionally accompanied by a cardboard Rudolph. But, when compared to DC, San Francisco was nearly tropical in its warmth. OSK glanced around at the nearly identical buildings.
"Which of these is Tangent Inc?" he muttered out loud.
"Perhaps you're looking for the one that says `Tangent Incorporated' across the upper part in brilliant neon blue lettering?" a voice asked with friendly sarcasm. It was soft, with the barest hint of a French accent in its pronunciation.
OSK turned to see a young man walking towards him. He was lithe, obviously fit, about two years younger than OSK and clad in a leather jacket and clinging flared jeans. He moved with graceful ease, and OSK had him pegged for one of those carefree children of money. When OSK looked into his eyes, though, that perception was changed. There was a hint of sadness in their fathomless, earth-colored depths, a sadness that was out of place in the boy's youthful and well-sculpted features.
"You know Tangent?" OSK asked. The boy shook his head.
"Not personally, but I know he's probably in that tower. I was looking to have a talk with him, myself. I'm Cody Diamant, by the way."
OSK returned the handshake; Cody's grip was firm, but his hand was soft, smooth, and obviously unused to work. OSK instinctively analyzed the boy; he moved fluidly and with great confidence, but his gait lacked the power of a fighter's. Cody would not be too much of a threat.
"Name's Decon. Decon Ice."
***
Decon. Nice name. He's cute... where have I seen him before?
Cody felt the calluses on the taller boy's hand, and the power in his grip. Everything about him seemed familiar, from the dreadlocks that adorned his head to the black outfit that adorned his lean frame. Cody shrugged as he gave up his mental search, deciding that Decon simply bore a resemblance to someone he knew. Cody could sense the tension radiating off the other boy; he was agitated about something.
"May I ask what you need in Tangent Inc?"
Decon shrugged, and Cody felt him grow slightly uncomfortable. "I have a bone to pick with the president."
"I guess you could say the same about me," Cody replied, shrugging.
The duo strolled up to the building. It was certainly luxurious, but Cody wasn't impressed; he had been in many others just like this, with the glass doors and marble lobbies. Turning on the imperious and haughty air his mother had taught him to adopt, he strolled up to the front desk.
"Excuse me, miss. We were wondering if we could speak with Jerry Tangent, please, it's important," Cody said, meeting the receptionist's hazel eyes.
"I'm sorry, young man. Mr. Tangent is busy and you need an appointment," she replied, turning to the paperwork spread in front of her.
"Please, it's urgent," Cody replied. Decon shifted nervously; persuasion, at least the gentle kind, was never his strongpoint.
"And so is Mr. Tangent's business. He can't drop everything for any random boys off the street, can he, honey?" she asked, raising an over-plucked eyebrow.
Cody resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Well, ma'am, I guess not. Is there anyone else we could speak to?"
"Not without an appointment," she said, shrugging as boredom radiated off of her in waves. "Sorry, kids."
"Thank you, ma'am." Cody's tone grew icy. "Let's go, Decon."
"Dude, we haven't gotten anything done," Decon whispered, following Cody's brisk walk.
"That's about to change." A small smirk played across Cody's mouth as he watched the receptionist he had spoken to return to her paperwork. "Every corporate CEO sits at the top of the building... I think it gives them a feeling of power. Let's go."
The two disappeared into the sliding golden doors of the elevator.
***
OSK stepped out of the elevator, Cody at his heels. They found themselves in a carpeted hallway lined with lush potted plants.
"Jesus, this guy has you pissed!" Cody observed. OSK frowned inwardly; he had thought he was hiding his emotions pretty well.
"I don't like his type. Sleazy, disgusting," OSK replied. "Using his handsome face as a shield for whatever the hell he's got going on behind America's back."
"That face is handsome?" Cody asked incredulously. "Please, I've seen stars that aren't as bright as those teeth. How much bleach does he use on them?"
Ignoring Cody, OSK marched down the hallway at the end of which signs indicated he would find Tangent's office. They quickly found themselves at twin oak doors, denoted by a golden black to be the office of `Jerry Tangent, CEO'.
"Excuse me," a woman's voice interrupted, melodious to the ear but filled with command and power, like silk draped over steel. "Mr. Tangent is busy. Do not go in there."
OSK felt his lips curl open into a grin as he beheld the woman accosting them. She was tall, nearly his height, and had short black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her skin was like porcelain, pure and white, and judging by her long, muscular legs, she was an athlete of some sort. Her practical black uniform denoted her as, most likely, a security guard.
"Why hello there, Miss..." OSK's eyes darted to the nametag pinned onto her lightweight black jacket. "Chantel. Pleasure to meet you."
Chantel eyed him, unimpressed and almost bored. "The pleasure is all yours."
Cody stared Chantel in the eyes. "You poor girl," he murmured, acting as if disconcerted by what he saw in those flashing brown orbs. "What has he done to you? Does he treat you like those other girls?"
"What are you talking about?" Chantel replied, her face remaining still like the stagnant masks of the Japanese Noh Theatre Decon's surrogate mother had been quite fond of.
"You know what I'm talking about. It's in the paper."
Chantel paused, nodding her features still set in stone. "I see. One moment, please."
She slipped through the doors, in such a way that OSK could see nothing of what occurred beyond them, not that he would have noticed preoccupied as he was with her rear end.
"She got nervous when I mentioned the other girls," Cody observed.
A few moments passed, and something smashed into the small of OSK's back with the force of a sledgehammer. He slammed into the doors with a crash, nearly losing his balance.
He spun around, revealing an attractive girl in an artfully ripped version of Chantel's uniform. Her searing brown eyes were surrounded by heavily applied eyeliner, and her black hair was hacked short and spiked out. As she raised her fists in a standard kickboxing stance, OSK noted several metallic and dangerous-looking bracelets surrounding her wrists.
"Hi there... Care t' have a go?" she asked, grinning. Her voice was tinted heavily with a cockney accent. After a moment, OSK realized that, despite the difference in wardrobe and demeanor, this girl was identical to Chantel.
"Baby, I'd like to have more than one go!" OSK replied with a grin. The grin vanished as he saw Cody move.
Cody swung with a pretty decent right hook for someone with little discernible training, but he moved a hair too slowly. The girl spun around and landed a back fist with enough force to send him sprawling across the cold floor. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to OSK, holding a knife by the blade in her left hand. She prepared to fling it, but Cody's leg hit her knees. The knife imbedded itself in the door as the girl collapsed in a heap. She vaulted back into a standing position and turned on Cody, her anger nearly palpable.
"You little..." OSK rushed her, receiving a roundhouse to the chest, before her fists hammered across his jaw. OSK blinked. That had almost stung... almost. Frowning, the girl withdrew another small knife from her jacket and swiped at OSK, merely managing to created a rip in the fabric of his shirt. "Ok, admittedly not the way I was planning on you taking off my shirt, but..."
"Bloody hell! What're you made of?" she asked, hopping back and raising her knife defensively. Judging by its angle it was going to go straight towards his eyes.
"Cody, get out of here!" OSK snapped, smashing his forearm into the girl's to stop her stab. Cody's footfalls echoed through the hallway as OSK grabbed her arm, twisting it to force her to release the knife. It clattered to the ground, and she twisted just right, flipping OSK onto his back. It didn't remain that way for long, though, as his foot whipped out at superhuman speed, knocking her onto the ground. OSK rolled on top of her, pinning her hands over her head.
"Get off me... you..." Her knee found its way into OSK's groin, repeatedly. His grip weakened enough for her to kick him off.
"Okay, the gloves are off!" OSK snarled, grabbing the girl's fist before it connected with his nose and hurling her, like a rag doll, several yards through the air before she crashed against the wall. She crumpled to the ground, groaning faintly.
"Hold it."
Chantel had reappeared, accompanied by an Uzi leveled at OSK's temple.
OSK readied himself; the bullets from the Uzi would sting like crazy, but he could handle it. Chantel tightened her finger on the trigger.
The fusillade of stinging metal ricocheted off a transparent golden bubble that had suddenly appeared around the hero. The bullets peppered the floor, shattering the marble.
"Huh?" OSK turned, to see a shining figure strolling down the hallway. The figure was obviously male, and wore a golden breastplate and pure-white pants that accentuated this by molding themselves to every slope on his body. A gleaming scepter was clutched in his right hand.
It's Cody, OSK realized as he saw the boy's face. The only difference there was that his eyes were white, and flickered with ethereal energy. It struck OSK suddenly that it was the face of one of the most photographed heroes in the world. A.K.A. Phoebus, apparently.
"Back off, skank," Cody snapped, allowing the bubble to dissipate.
"Ahh... Phoebus, en't it?" the English girl snapped as she rose unsteadily. "Y' look like y' should be dancin' on a table in a So Ho gay bar, rather `en busting up a building like this! What's with them stitches up and down the sides of your armor? I've seen corsets that cover more than that!"
"And probably worn ones that cover less," Cody snapped, falling into a defensive position.
OSK moved forward in a blur of speed, swatting Chantel to the side with a powerful sweep of his hand. His foot smashed into the center of the oak doors, sending them swinging open with a bang. "Tangent!"
The office held a massive mahogany desk, several plush leather sofas, a sprawling screen upon one wall, and an impressive view of the city below.
But no people.
"Damn! Where the hell is he?"
"You mean he isn't here?" Phoebus asked. A bubble had formed around him, and the two guards were circling it like ravenous lionesses.
"No, the stinking..." A low rumble, like peeling thunder, cut OSK off in mid-sentence as the wall in the hallway shook. An intricate cobweb of deep cracks preceded its collapse. The two guards darted away. Phoebus dropped his force field and flew backward, barely avoiding being crushed by the rubble. He stumbled upon landing and tumbled to a heap at OSK's feet.
"Jeez... it doesn't do that in the game..." a new voice deadpanned.
OSK glared at the figure that was barely visible beyond the contorting clouds of thick dust. As they settled across the rocky field of what had been a wall and a ceiling, he could see that it was a young African American boy. He short of stature and did not look accustomed to physical work, but he held a bizarre firearm, silver colored with a red streak down the center. A thin tendril of smoke was curling upward from its barrel.
"Hey! I know you," the boy cried, stumbling over the field of rubble in a way that assured OSK he had little martial skill. "You're that pretty boy hero... Phoebus!"
"Apparently," Phoebus replied, clutching his scepter as he attempted to discern the whereabouts of Chantel and the other security guard. "Who are you?"
"You can call me Gamer," he replied, grinning. "This weird chick dressed like something out of a kung fu flick wasn't letting me in... Then she pulled a sword on me, and I kinda shot at her. I missed and hit the wall..."
"Didn't notice," Phoebus replied, rolling his eyes. "Where did those security guards go?"
Suddenly a flash of silver whistled through the air. OSK's keen eyes
saw its small, oval shape, and he felt a pulse of urgency rush
through him.
"Get down!"
And then the world erupted in a chaotic whirlwind of flame and noise.
***
Phoebus willed the golden bubble containing him upward through the billowing streams of smoke, shooting upward until he seemed to become yet another star in the endless expanse of night. He looked downward. Decon and the newcomer, `Gamer', lay on the bottom of the force field, suspended above the glittering field of San Francisco. They were both relieved, but Phoebus sensed nothing more than mild surprise from either of them. It was obvious that they had experienced things much more shocking than flying force fields.
He glanced warily at Gamer. The boy was clad in an outfit of one-tone denim, and had a small, portly frame. Phoebus did not recognize him or his name.
"You two all right?"
"Yeah," Gamer replied, checking the belt around his waist. Phoebus noticed that it was laden with many pouches containing various items.
"Uh-huh. You think Chantel and the other woman got away?" Decon asked.
"I'm not sure," Phoebus replied. "The blast only blew out the area we were in... I sensed no one in distress, so either no one got caught in it. Or... Or whoever did, is..."
"Dead. Get used to saying it, bro... It just gets worse," Decon replied. His tone was that of a commander bequeathing the wisdom of war unto a newly recruited soldier.
Gamer nodded, standing shakily on the floor of the semi-transparent bubble. He ran an appraising gaze over Phoebus, who felt contempt wafting of him like a distant, yet still foul stench. "This isn't the job for sissies, pal."
Phoebus gazed at the smaller boy through narrowed eyes. The energy that radiated from his orbs gave this stare an eerie effect. "I've seen... and felt... pain and suffering that would crush your soul."
"What, didja run out of hair gel?" Gamer replied, rolling his eyes.
"Jeez, you guys just met! Chill out!" Decon snapped. "We've got to rest somewhere, and figure out our next steps."
"I live in Los Angeles," Phoebus replied. "I can get there in a few minutes but not with my force field up like this... I move too slowly."
Gamer shrugged. "I've got ways of transportation."
***
Los Angeles, the Diamant Residence...
"This is my room," Phoebus, or rather, Cody as his true name appeared to be, explained, indicating the expanse with a wave of his hand.
Robert glanced around in awe. The manor itself was huge, surrounded with fountains and winding garden mazes in a picture of such quaint decadence that the X-Wing he had summoned as transport looked even more out of place on the lawn that it did normally.
Cody's room was not as large as the manner had suggested, but it still dwarfed Robert's own. It was stylishly decorated, with just the right degree of over-crowded disorder to make it cozy.
A large bed swaddled in heavy blankets and pillows was pushed up against one wall and across from it a medium-sized television squatted, complete with a DVD player. Along the other wall was pushed an oak desk adorned with a computer and countless decorative knickknacks, and a stereo system sat nearby a bay window. The walls were plastered with posters of Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Superboy, and CM3, their pearly white smiles gleaming in the moonlit, incense-scented dimness.
"Jeez..." Gamer muttered, glancing around. The room was brimming with wealth and luxury, and it made him feel a little ill in the same way that an overabundance of sugar would.
Gamer glanced to the left at Cody, whose handsome face was bathed in the ghostly light of his computer screen as he checked the messages left for him in almost blithe unawareness of the dangerous situation the group had just escaped. He seemed to fit in perfectly with the room; the epitome of controlled casualness in his roughed up, bleached out jeans and longish, tousled hair. Robert's eyes rolled almost involuntarily; whoever had plucked this boy out of the Express-Men's catalogue and given him super-powers deserved a hearty smack upside the head.
"Ohh! Jimmy left me a message!" Cody squealed, slipping momentarily into a more effeminate tone. "He's such a sweetheart!"
"Ooooh... too typical," Gamer noted, shaking his head and muttering to
OSK. "Shoulda guessed from the paint-on jeans."
"Dude, what are you talking about?" OSK replied, crossing his arms. "Umm, Cody? We do have business to attend to."
Gamer nodded. "Yeah, if you can forget your boy-toy for a minute you might remember that we have a rogue businessman and a handful of deadly and armed martial artists running around?"
"Well, how do you propose we find them?" Cody asked, clicking the keyboard a few times before moving away. He flicked on a light. "I guess we could split up and search for her... How fast can you guys travel?"
"Pretty quick, but I'm not exactly the Flash."
"My X-Wing can reach warp speed in seconds," Gamer noted proudly.
Cody's arched eyebrows turned into a confused frown. "Your what?"
"X-Wing," Gamer replied incredulously. When repetition didn't stir Cody's memory, he threw his hands down in exasperation. "Jeez! Don't you ever play video games?!"
"Oh, no, I have a life," Cody replied with a deliberate lack of meanness to his tone.
OSK groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Dude, both of you! They know we're after them, so it's only a short while before they start searchin' for us. It ain't like we can just sit around and wait for them to attack!"
Gamer opened his mouth to say something, but a shrill cry from the hall cut him off.
"Annie? Annie!"
Throwing open the door revealed Cody's mother, a thin, spectrally beautiful woman with golden-wheat hair and full red lips, screaming into the phone almost hysterically.
"Mama!" Cody rushed to his mother's side, grabbing her arm. A stream of French rushed from his lips, completely meaningless to Gamer's ears, and Mrs. Diamant replied in same. Cody nodded. "Oui, oui..."
Gamer frowned as Cody grabbed his arm, yanking him out into the hallway, but he bit back a barb when he saw the look of urgency on the other boy's face. "My mother was on the phone with her friend... she said she heard a gunshot. The thing is that her friend is a huge detractor of Jerry Tangent. Coincidence? Yeah right. Come on!"
***
Decon gripped the multi-colored of the strange beast he rode upon as if his life depended on it. He had no idea what a `Bahamut' was, and Gamer's babble about video games had not done much to change that. OSK didn't trust the strange beast, but he did concur with Gamer's logic; at nighttime a large dragon soaring high above the gleam of the houses below was faster and far less conspicuous than the glowing sphere Phoebus would have carried him in. OSK frowned, as a faint, repetitive noise hit his ears.
"Listen!" he cried out, peering through the heavy gloom for the source of the din. "It sounds like a helicopter!"
"I can't see anything!" Gamer replied.
"I can!" Phoebus replied, his glowing eyes piercing the darkness. "Back me up, guys!"
***
Phoebus shot forward with a falcon's speed towards the helicopter, the light from his scepter beginning to fade. Bahamut flailed its wings, lurching forward. The helicopter obviously saw its pursuers and quickly shot forward, buzzing like some malevolent dragonfly of Brobdingnagian proportions.
However, its speed was only mechanical. Phoebus' came from a god, and he quickly overtook the helicopter. A dazzling display of light streamed from his scepter and momentarily blinded the pilot. Bahamut roared, its armored hands grabbing at the hazy disco of the helicopter's propeller. The blades clanged against its natural armor, denting and shattering as they did so that the helicopter was supported only by Bahamut's incredible stength.
Phoebus swung his scepter, bashing in the door to the helicopter. As he attempted to enter, the pilot turned on him. She was a teenage girl, with her dark hair chopped short and her muscled frame clad in a baggy black uniform. Phoebus noted with surprise that she was identical to Chantel.
Her foot whipped out, smashing into Phoebus' abdomen with enough force to drive him out of the helicopter. He barely caught himself, drawing power from the scepter to assuage the pain. A sharp chill ran down his spine as he saw a large firearm, he wasn't quite sure what, being thrust from the helicopter towards OSK like the stinger of some ferocious scorpion.
The clap of rapid gunfire filled the sky like reverberating peels of thunder that hammered on the consciousness, and sparks filled the sky as OSK moved swiftly, deflecting the bullets with the armbands around his wrists. He moved with such speed that the effect made him resemble a multi-armed statue of Shiva.
"Wow! Just like Wonder Woman!" Phoebus observed, before OSK cried out, crimson droplets of blood splattering in all directions as he lurched backward to fall limply from Bahamut's back. "Or not..."
Phoebus shot like a bullet towards OSK's falling form, grabbing onto it with all his strength. Pain spiked through his arms and back from the strain as he lowered himself to the sidewalk. They had reached a commercial area of town, one that was fortunately devoid of innocent bystanders at this late hour.
Blood was sluicing from the wound in OSK's shoulder, spilling into a puddle on the sidewalk and running in crimson streams down Phoebus' sculpted armor. It appeared as if the bullet had punched straight through him, and OSK was making a sound that appeared halfway between a gurgle and scream.
"Calm down... calm down," Phoebus murmured, summoning all his discipline to stop OSK's panic from effecting him. Empathy was quite a pain at times.
"Calmness prob'ly `en't the best state to be in right now, luv," a familiar voice taunted as the British security guard sauntered from the shadows, twirling a blade in one hand in the same idle manner another might toy with a lock of hair.
"Chantel! Why are you doing this?" Phoebus cried out, recognizing the first security guard he had run into as she stepped up beside her teammate.
"Please, Chantel is my day-name. At night I much prefer to be called... Clique."
The British girl chuckled, and Phoebus noted the fact that the two were practically identical twins. "Actually, we all do."
Phoebus felt a pang of fear as several more girls stepped from the alleyway, each different in dress but all bearing the same face and a variety of different weapons. Frowning, he called out to Gamer, and erected a force field around himself and his wounded ally.
***
Pain.
That was all OSK could feel. Pain, red hot and cruel, curling in agonizing tendrils through his body. A crimson haze obscured his vision, and every neuron was firing off messages of pure, unadulterated anguish.
It began to subside swiftly, though, a shining gold piercing the crimson haze as a benevolent numbness took over his body.
"Wha..."
"Shhh... God, you're healing swiftly. You have your own regenerating powers, don't you? Don't answer that... just stay still. Shhh..."
OSK's vision cleared enough to reveal Phoebus kneeling over him, his shining armor stained with blood. He held his glowing scepter down to the wound, which was knitting itself up at an amazing rate.
Phoebus grinned, undaunted by the blood splattering the area around him. "There... That barely took three minutes."
"Thanks..." Decon replied, sitting up. His arm still felt numb, but prickled like it had fallen asleep and circulation was just beginning to be restored. The world seemed a little hazy.
"You've lost a lot of blood. Gamer is taking care of the Cliques."
"The who?" OSK glanced through the force field, revealing a group of women attacking the creature he had ridden to the area. Bahamut was holding its own, for the women's attacks had no effect on its heavy armor. Its reflexes were too slow for its attacks to land on any of the agile girls, however.
"Bahamut!" OSK heard Gamer cry out. "Use an energy attack!"
Suddenly, Bahamut began to fade, as if his very atoms were dispersing into the molecules around them, until there was nothing there. "Crap! Mom must've turned off the PS2!"
A woman in dark, loose clothing lunged, wielding a sword OSK recognized as a Chinese butterfly sword, often used in styles of kung fu. Phoebus dropped his force field and streaked forward, crossing the distance in a second and landing a glancing blow with his scepter. The woman was sent tumbling into the bushes, stunned.
OSK rose to attack the nearest armed woman, but suddenly the world was bathed in a blinding, brilliant emerald radiance.
***
Phoebus' eyes, suffused with light as they were when he was in contact with his scepter, were mostly unaffected by the green burst of light, which seemed to be emanating from a humanoid shape suspended in midair. As the light began to dim, Phoebus realized that it was a teenaged boy, around his size, clad in a loose, plain cotton shirt and pants. He had dark, slightly disheveled hair, and East Asian features. Fear and confusion radiated from him.
He cried out, and suddenly a beam of pure green energy surged from his right hand. It struck the road with a resounding crash, leaving a smoking crater behind. More beams lanced out, devastating the area. Phoebus raised his scepter, erecting a glowing dome around himself and Gamer to repel the energy blasts.
"Hey! Look up!" OSK's challenge rang out over the battlefield as he leapt into the air. The newcomer looked at him in puzzlement, before OSK landed a wild roundhouse to his face. The boy was knocked from the air, ceasing his random blasts, and bounced across the ground like a thrown penny.
Phoebus' observations were revealed to be true once the brilliant light had ceased. The boy pushed himself into a kneeling position, as OSK stalked over to him. One hand roughly grabbed the cotton of his shirt, yanking him into a standing position.
"Okay, tell me who the hell you are or-"
A fist hammered into OSK's jaw, cutting off his threat. A slight, jade-colored aura had formed around the boy, just enough so that the air around him flickered with power. He grabbed OSK by the arm and twisted, flinging him away easily. OSK had barely touched the ground before he launched himself back at the boy. His fists thrust outward like pistons, and the boy returned the fury with his own blocks and strikes.
Phoebus watched in awe from the sanctity of his force field as the two moved, like dancing blurs, around each other in a display that put any martial arts movie he had seen to shame. Their arms were nearly invisible as they blocked and landed jackhammer blows, and only the dancing flash that was the mysterious boy's aura allowed Gamer and Phoebus to keep track of the match as the two martial artists ricocheted off walls and vaulted high into the air. A kick found its way to OSK's stomach, sending him sailing backward into a pile of crates stacked in an alleyway.
The boy lunged, but OSK rolled to the side, and pummeled him with a flurry of kicks that drove him into the wall. An explosion of green energy devastated the crates, but OSK dodged and snatched a board from the air, swinging it at his opponent, who shattered it like driftwood and landed a knife-hand to his neck. OSK stumbled back, but managed to raise his arms in time to block an axe-kick. OSK punched his opponent in the face and then whirled around and thrust
his foot into the boy's abdomen, sending him sailing backward to lie, dazed, in the center of the street.
OSK leapt again to attack, but a shimmering golden dome intercepted him. His feet struck it with no effect, and he rebounded away.
"Phoebus! What the hell?"
"One Shot, hold on," Phoebus replied, strolling over to the small force field, within which the boy lay unconscious. "Hello? Can you hear me? This was a misunderstanding... He thought you were attacking us."
The boy looked up at Phoebus, a trickling of blood running from his lip.
"Lay day hay beeng gall? Gnaw hay..." emerald energy suffused the boy, spreading upward from a ring on his right middle finger, "...Are you? Where... Who... Aiyaa... The Temple! The temple... what..."
"What the hell are you talking about?" OSK demanded.
"Calm down, please," Phoebus implored as he felt panic race from the boy. "Please, you're going to..."
The boy's eyes rolled back into his head, which hit his arm with a soft thump.
Phoebus dropped his force field and rushed to the boy's side. "God, we need to get him back to my house..."
***
Twenty minutes later...
The steam wafted up from the cup in Cody's hands, the scent of the herbal tea tantalizing to his senses. A few cookies lay amidst the crumbs of their brethren on a silver platter near the bed. The mysterious newcomer lay in bed, his bruises from the fight with OSK healed by Phoebus' power.
"Can't you do anything to wake him up?" Decon asked, strolling into Cody's room.
"No, the best I can do is heal his wounds. The poor boy was exhausted beyond belief. Did you see any sign of the Cliques?"
Decon shook his head, his dreadlocks shaking with the curt movement. "Nope."
Cody adjusted the damp cloth on the boy's head, and a low groan escaped his lips.
"He's about to awake. Decon, you may want to back up in case he panics upon seeing you."
"Right."
Cody gently touched the boy's shoulder. "Hello? Can you hear me?"
The boy's dark eyes fluttered open. "Lay day hay beeng gall?"
"I'm sorry," Cody replied, frowning. The boy appeared to be speaking some form of Chinese. "I can't understand... Ah!"
The boy's hand had lashed out with cobra quickness, tightening around Cody's windpipe. Cody gagged as a jabbing thumb forced itself against his throat.
"Who are you? Where am I?" The boy's voice was thickly accented, but his words were clear.
"P-Please..." Cody replied, lifting a hand to dissuade OSK from attacking. "We won't hurt you."
Apparently deciding Cody was trustworthy, the boy released his grip, letting his hand settle in his lap. Cody rubbed his throat, swallowing deeply.
"My name is Cody Diamant, and you're in my house, in Los Angeles, California. In the States... What is your name? Who are you?"
His manner becoming more subdued as he seemed to relax, the boy took awhile before replying.
"You can call me Luke."
Cody nodded, handing Luke the tray with the herbal tea and cookies on it. Balancing it carefully on his lap, Luke took a gentle sip from the glass, after tentatively sniffing it like a cat would its food.
"Mmmm. Thank you," he replied, obviously thirsty as his next gulp drained half the cup and send rivulets of warm liquid coursing down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his sleeve.
"Luke... When you appeared, you were shooting off blasts of green energy. From this ring."
Cody held out his hand. Nestled in his palm was the ring Luke had been wearing. It looked as if it were carved from emerald. An air of age hung around it that spoke of a centuries long existence, even though its surface was smooth and unblemished. Luke gazed at it with a mixture of awe and fear, like one would a deadly weapon.
"I've seen the symbol on here before... Have you heard of Green Lantern?"
"Aiyaa," Luke murmured, falling back onto the plush pillows Cody had used to prop his head up. His eyes lost their focus as if he had been struck, and his skin suddenly looked as wan as if someone had cast flour in his face. "The temple... Oh..."
He suddenly lurched forward, sending the cookies and tea splashing carelessly onto Cody's thick black comforter. A harsh, strangled sob escaped him, wracking his lean body.
"The temple?" Cody heard OSK murmur from behind him. Cody gently lay a comforting hand on Luke's back, biting his lower lip against the wave of despair that threatened to submerge him in a frigid sea of sadness.
"Shhh... It's okay... Just don't think about it right now."
Gamer coughed, pushing the chair away from Cody's computer. "If we can turn our attention to the important thing... I've found someone who knows where Tangent is."
TO BE CONTINUED...