Tales of the Teen Titans: Godwar, part 1: Prologue: Chapter 1: The Contract

Okay, this is the beginning of a larger story arc I've been toying with for some time now. Hopefully, this will wrap up some loose ends, and explain a few things along the way….and ask my gentle readers some very hard questions. But that's one reason we're all here, isn't it?

Needless to say, I receive no remuneration for anything involving the Teen Titans.

The problem with depression, Kitten thought to herself, the problem that no-one else realized, was that not only did it suck, and suck hard, but it sucked forever.

Calling it "down in the dumps" only served to illustrate people's ignorance. When one is depressed, each minute seems like an hour. And hours…..are almost intolerable.

She'd been this way for some time now. Her father, Killer Moth, was clearly worried about her. Her friends—and that was a thought, all by itself—in the Titans (correction: the other Titans, she told herself. After all, she was a full-fledged member now, ID card and everything) had been calling her, to see what was the matter. Even Angelique had taken to dropping in on her at random intervals, ostensibly to check up on Charlie, but clearly more worried about Kitten.

She just couldn't seem to get interested in anything. A part of her wished she could go back to her old materialistic ways, get all excited over somebody giving her something, or just buying something for herself. But she couldn't, and she was intelligent enough to know such things just no longer held that much attraction for her.

Not for the first time, she wondered if maybe she should seek professional help. But she just couldn't see it. Maybe Robin knew someone who treated metahumans….but she doubted they'd be able to help her. Besides, what could they do? Prescribe her medication? She didn't want to be all pilled up.

But surely she had to do something. She was losing interest in just about everything, including her duties as a Titan. She might feel morally ambiguous about fighting crime and all that, but one thing she was sure of was, she didn't want people thinking of her as the lazy Titan.

And Garfield and Terra's wedding was coming up. She'd already promised to be one of the Maids of Honor there. She really didn't want to let them down.

"Miss Kitten?" Angelique's voice sounded from just outside her door. "Are you in there?"

She rallied, sitting up on her bed. "Yeah, kid. C'mon in."

Angelique entered Kitten's room cautiously, almost as if she were afraid of something. "Are-are you alright, Miss Kitten?"

Kitten smiled, brushing a rogue strand of hair back over her ear. She'd developed a kind of sisterly bond with the girl, but she honestly couldn't say who'd adopted whom. "Yeah, kid. I'm alright. Well, as alright as I usually am. What's going on with you?"

Angelique came over and sat on the carpet in front of her. She hesitated for a long moment. Then, "I asked Father Alpha today about, you know, if there was some way to, to bring somebody back."

Bring somebody back? What was she—"I'm not sure what you mean. You mean, like finding someone?" Kitten knew Angelique was determined to find her mother, from whom she'd been taken, some years before, by some pedophiles. Fortunately, she'd managed to escape from them before they'd actually done anything to her, but just taking her from her mother had been traumatic enough. Kitten could relate.

"No, I meant, like, bringing somebody back from," and here she pointed towards the ceiling. "You know. Bringing them back from up there."

Up there? Oh. "Kid, I really don't think you need to worry," Kitten reassured the little girl, "From what you've told us, your mom was young and in good health. We'll find her, but it may be, like, she, I dunno, maybe left the country for some reason. Sometimes people do that. But we'll find her. I don't think she's, y'know, up there."

Angelique knelt on the carpet in front of Kitten, sitting on her heels in the traditional Osiran kneeling posture. She seemed not to want to meet Kitten's eyes. "Thank you, Miss Kitten. But I wasn't talking about my mom. I was talking about Mr. Omega."

Again oh. "But….you barely knew him. I mean, you met him once…"

"But he's your boyfriend. And, and ever since he, y'know, went up there, you've been…." The child hesitated, then threw caution to the winds. "I don't wanna lose you, Miss Kitten!"

Lose her? Whatever was the girl talking about? Then it hit her…

Ever since her transformation, Kitten's mind had been working like an overclocked computer. She no longer needed a calculator for most everyday problems; going to the grocery store, she automatically knew how much the total bill was going to be, even before she got to the checkout, tax included. And many other things that, previously, she'd have had to deliberate on, long and hard, or even that had previously required the use of her computer, now came to her in a flash. But she was still human (in spite of the red skin, poisoned-stingered tail, and increased abilities), and some things just took longer to percolate through the ol' wetware….

Hadn't she, just the other day, been looking at a big bottle of aspirin and wondering how long it would take to swallow all of them, and what—someone—could swallow them with, to take the awful chalky taste out of…someone's…mouth? Why had she wondered that?

She got down on the floor and took the little girl in her arms. "Oh, Angelique, you don't have to worry about that! I wouldn't do that to you. I promise. Yeah, I admit, I've been depressed, and God knows I miss him, but I wouldn't….leave you….like that."

Angelique hugged her back, being careful, as always, not to squeeze too tightly. She was a lot more than she looked, having taken advantage of Thinker superscience to rework herself into something far, far more than merely human. She could probably snap anyone this side of Superman himself in half.

But for all her power, she was still a little eight-year old girl, with a little girl's emotions. She buried her face in Kitten's shoulder. "I jus' don't wanna lose you. I've already lost my mom….don't wanna lose my big sister, too."

Big sister. Kitten smiled, a tear tracking down her face, from the corner of her eye. "Well, you're not gonna, not for a long time yet, not if I have anything to say about it. Tell you what." She drew back and looked Angelique in the face. "Tomorrow, let's take Charlie out for a walk in the park. I hear they have a special doggie trail there. He can run and chase all the squirrels and birds he wants to. I might even be able to persuade my dad to come along. We can make a picnic of it. How's that sound?"

But afterward, after a reassured and excited Angelique left, Kitten went into her room's bathroom. There, in the medicine cabinet: a bottle of three hundred fifty aspirin. She hesitated a moment, then poured them all down the toilet. She hadn't needed aspirin—or any other such pain reliever—since her transformation, anyway. Her medicine cabinet was practically bare now, except for a few products of feminine hygiene.

As she poured the contents of the bottle down the commode, she found herself thinking about Omega again, as she seemed to always be doing, these days. Who, really, was he, to her, anyway? Just a guy. A great guy, a guy she had been in love with, yeah, but still, just a guy.

A super guy, who'd seen more in her than the materialistic superspoiled princess others had. A guy who'd gone out of his way, not once, but several times, to help her and her father….

A guy she'd tried to use, but who'd loved her anyway, even after he'd found out.

A guy who…

This wasn't working.

She finished flushing the aspirin, threw the empty bottle into the trashcan with a little bit more force than was absolutely necessary, and closed the mirrored door to her medicine cabinet.

There was another reflection in the mirror, standing behind her.

Kitten whirled, claws ready, already sparking their electrical discharge. If some creepazoid had sneaked into her room, he was in for a shock, in the most literal sense of the word.

There was nobody behind her in the room.

Cautiously, she looked around. Could someone have hidden himself that quickly? She glanced back at the mirror. There he was, apparently standing behind her, just outside the doorway of her bathroom.

She looked back carefully, keeping the mirror in her field of view. There was nobody behind her in the room. But his image was still there, in the mirror.

In appearance, he was a short, somewhat stocky individual, wearing what appeared to be a medieval monk's robe, rust-red in color, tied with a rope around the middle, hands tucked in opposing sleeves. The hood was pulled back, so that his head and features were fully visible. He had dark hair, somewhat tousled, and rather ordinary, late twenty-something Caucasian features.

But his eyes…..

Kitten couldn't take her gaze off those eyes. It wasn't just that they were red from corner to corner; she'd met and fought beings with such before. Rather, it was that the eyes themselves seemed to contain other eyes, not multifaceted like an insect's eyes, but rather eyes consisting of other eyes, swimming in a sea of red. And those eyes contained other, still smaller eyes within them, like an infinite regression effect. Except it was in his freakin eyes.

The image in the mirror looked at her, his expression somewhat bemused. Kitten couldn't help but feel a shiver that left goosebumps on her arms. Those eyes didn't look like they belonged to anything of this universe. Or anything even remotely sane.

By human standards.

(But she had to admit, if only to herself, it was a bitchin' effect.)

"Let me guess," she said, controlling herself with an effort, "You would be the entity Omega spoke of, the universe-devouring critter. Am I right?"

The image in the mirror bowed. "In the flesh. Well, actually, in the mirror, but you know what I mean. And may I say I'm impressed? Not only at your deduction, but also your self-control. Many other beings would not have taken my showing up this way so well, Catherine."

Kitten ground her teeth. "Kitten. It's Kitten. Nobody calls me Catherine."

The being sighed. Kitten could clearly hear the sound coming from the mirror, although it seemed to come from a greater distance than was apparent. "Oh, very well. Kitten. I suppose it matters little what you elect to call yourself."

Kitten straightened up. If this thing thought he was gonna scare her with some funhouse eyes, he had another think coming. "I presume," she began, "that you're appearing tonight in my mirror for a reason. Unless this is your version of Jay Leno, which I kinda doubt."

The being inclined his head. "Again, I'm impressed. And, no, this meeting is definitely not for entertainment purposes. Actually, I've come to, well, to hire you, really."

"Hire me? For what?"

"I need something done, and, for reasons it would be clumsy to go into right now, I can't do it myself. Not as well as you could, at least."

Kitten moved back from the mirror, into her bedroom, never taking her eyes off the image in her mirror. "Hate to burst your bubble, but I've already got a job. And, from what Omega told me about you, I'm not sure I'd want to work for you, anyway."

"Let me guess. He told you I devour universes, right?"

"I believe the term he used was, 'assimilate.'"

"A much better term, true. And he probably told you I assimilate individual living beings, as well. Right?"

"Right." Kitten looked around, as casually as she could, for a quick exit.

"So you probably think I'm some sort of being like those half-machine people in that popular television show. Just going merrily around the cosmos, sweeping up anything and everything in my path. Like a, well, like a cosmic vacuum cleaner or something."

"The thought," Kitten admitted, "had contemplated the logistics of making its way across my mind."

"Well, put your mind at ease. Yes, I do that, on occasion—when the circumstances dictate its necessity. But I much prefer to assimilate those who accept me, and my goals. Those who wish to join me, quite literally, in my cause, and fight alongside me, in my war."

"Your war?"

"Oh, he didn't tell you about that? Well, he may not have known. I'm currently engaged in a war with an almost indescribably powerful opponent. That's why I do what I do. I'm fighting on behalf of all life, for the betterment of all things. But it's an uphill battle. That's partly why I've come to you, tonight." He paused. Then, he, or his image, rather, turned, and gesturing to the reflection of the chair in her room, said, "Mind if I sit down? I've come a long way." Without waiting for her to reply, he plopped down into the overstuffed recliner. Kitten sneaked a glance behind her; the seat in the actual chair wasn't dimpled, as it would be, were there somebody actually sitting in it. For some reason, that disturbed her more than if it had been. "Now, as to why I'm here….I find I have need of a mortal agent to accomplish a certain task. It requires a certain degree of finesse, and, while I could engineer a solution to the problem, it's better if I act through someone on this plane of existence. Someone like you, in other words."

"I hope you aren't about to ask me to help you assimilate this universe. Or anyone in it. 'Cause I won't."

"Oh, no, no, no. Nothing at all like that. No, I simply need something stolen. Stolen from a high-security area, in fact. Stolen, and brought to me, in order to see to its destruction."

I see where this is going, thought Kitten. I steal this thingy, he destroys it, and it turns out to be the one thing that could stop him from taking over the universe. Or something like that."Not sure it's for me," she prevaricated, "I've kinda given up on that sort of thing, these days."

"Don't refuse the offer before you've heard me out." The being hesitated, a speculative expression on his face. "There's a human saying: everybody has their price. What would yours be, I wonder?"

Kitten remembered Angelique calling her her "big sister." "I don't think there's any amount of money that could make me turn my back on my friends…." Or set a bad example for my little sister.

"Then maybe something….more….than money." He got up and approached his side of the mirror, looking intently at Kitten with those scary eyes the whole time. She got the uncomfortable feeling he was seeing more than just the surface, or what she'd call the surface. "Hm. A pall of sadness hangs over you. Yes, yes. I see what you'd really like. Perhaps…perhaps something could be arranged."

"What are you talking about?"

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Who?"

The being in the mirror actually had the nerve to roll those creepy eyes of his. "Santa Claus. Who do you think I'm talking about? Him. Omega. Your lover, of course."

Now Kitten turned away. This was getting a little too personal to be discussing with some monster she'd just met. "Yeah, well, forget it. It's impossible. Even the Orb can't bring him back." She thought of the Orb, back at Titans' Tower, holding suspended, in its substance, the reconstituted body of her lover. "He's gone. I just have to get….used to that."

"I see. And how's that working out for you?"

She rounded on the being, this Entity, the temper for which she was justifiably famous finally aroused. "Look," she began, "If you think-*"

"It's possible," he mused, rubbing his chin, "It just might be possible to arrange for his return."

"You're lying!"

"No. What's impossible for you, what's impossible for the Orb, need not be impossible for me. And, frankly, now that I think about it, that would fit in better with some of my long-range plans, as well."

She looked suspiciously at him, intrigued despite herself. "And just how would you do that? I mean, he's gone."

The Entity went back and sat down in the image of the chair. Crossed his legs. Once again, Kitten noted, the real chair showed no signs of occupancy. "It has to do with the manner of his death, the way in which he died. What did he tell you about his series of warriors?"

She was still angry, but she had to admit, the Entity had her attention. "Not a great deal. It didn't seem like something he liked to talk about."

"Probably not. You see, Kitten, what made his series of warriors so invincible, so unstoppable, was the very thing that ultimately led to his own death. But before I tell you about it, I have to, well, educate you a little on what I suppose you might term hypercosmology. What do you suppose exists beyond all reality?"

"What, you mean like, hyperspace, superspace?"

"No, beyond even that. What exists beyond all places, all things?"

"I don't know."

"A timeless, infinite realm. It's a mistake to call it a place, as it exists beyond all places, but for lack of a better term, call it that. There's both nothing and everything there, simultaneously. I call it the Infinite. It's more of a condition than a true place. A condition of endlessness."

"Okay." She could grasp that….barely.

"The ancient Osiran gene-masters managed to tap into that…place that isn't a place. They gave their warriors the ability to connect to it, and to utilize some of the….properties of it, in their actions. However, it proved to be what I suppose you'd call a double-edged sword: it was both a power and a curse. A power, in the sense that, once a warrior engaged this particular function—they called it ki—the event they sought to make happen would happen, no doubt. Nothing could stop them. After all, how much power would it take to successfully oppose infinity?

"And a curse in that they couldn't stop themselves. The event, the deed they set out to do, would have to happen, no matter what. For that reason, they didn't use it much. And for that reason, they were deemed too dangerous to keep around. After all, a weapon with no 'off' switch leaves a bit to be desired." He paused, a faraway look coming over his features. "It's entirely possible that your Omega rashly utilized his ki back on Osira, in his quest to end the Lords' reign. When he learned of a surviving Lord, here, the curse part kicked in, and, like a post-hypnotic suggestion, led him to do what he did.

"But what he actually did….you see, Kitten, had he simply died from anything like an ordinary explosion, he would be gone, truly and completely gone, beyond all hope of recovery. But what he actually did was….he brought a small piece of the Infinite into the here and now. A very tiny piece, true, but it was sufficient to cross dimensional barriers, even of time and space, and take out anything in the vicinity, no matter how well shielded. No ordinary explosion, no matter how powerful, could have penetrated a Lord's defenses.

"But just as an exploding star explodes both outward and inward….part of that explosion opened up a small portal into the Infinite. And a part of Omega might have slipped through that. If so, that's where he is now."

"So…..exactly what are you saying? That he's alive, somewhere?"

"If I'm right, yes. Now, I have to admit, there's a chance I might not be. But I think I am."

"So…..what, exactly, are you proposing?"

"I can't just go there and bring him back. Even I can't do that. Yet. But, if he's there, he's probably lost. There are literally an infinite number of universes. Even if he should be trying to return, and he probably is, it would take him literally forever to find the right one.

"That is, without help."

"So…you can….help him return? Is that what you're saying?"

"I might can. With a little help from you. I can send out a beacon, I suppose you'd call it, into that timeless void. Something to show him the way back. He could follow it back to this universe….and your arms.

"But I must confess: there's a problem."

"Spill."

The being got up and began to pace across the reflection of Kitten's bedroom in the mirror. Stopped and placed a finger to this mouth, that faraway look still in his eyes. "If he's there, in the Infinite….we don't have forever. Although there's no passage of time in the Infinite, he, as a finite individual, can't last there indefinitely without, well, sort of 'dissolving,' I guess you'd say. A good analogy would be a sugar cube in the ocean. Depending on the temperature of the water, salinity, and other factors, the sugar cube will dissolve, in time. And once he's dissipated ….there's no bringing him back. At all. Ever. So that's a factor to consider."

Kitten thought hard. "And, all you want is something stolen?"

"Stolen and brought to me, yes."

"And in return, you'll bring Omega back?"

"I'll send out the beacon, yes. He'll be able to follow it back here."

Still she hesitated. What she was being asked to do was a crime, after all. The Titans fought crime. How could she reconcile that? She sure didn't want to set a bad example for little Angelique. Nor did she want the others condemning her….

"If it makes it any easier," he said, sensing her thoughts, "my only other solution—I'm running out of options, not to mention time, too, as I have some other things I have to attend to—is to macro-engineer a solution. I would really rather not do that."

"Why not? What do you mean, 'macro-engineer' a solution?"

He paused, a contemplative look coming over his features. "Probably a meteor strike. A small one. Maybe thirty, forty yards in diameter. Of course, it'll impact in a densely populated area. I'm sure there would be…collateral damage. Deaths of innocents. I'd like to avoid that, if possible. But I've already spent too much time on this matter as it is; I can't afford to take any longer with it.

"So either you help me in this, or I have to start throwing rocks."

She shook her head. "The Justice League would never let your meteor get within a million miles of Earth."

"If they saw it coming, true. But I'm fairly good with illusions and invisibility. Or, I could instigate an earthquake. That, however, might prove even more devastating, especially one of sufficient magnitude to ensure the object's destruction. So actually, by helping me, you'd really be saving lives."

"And all you want is something stolen? That's it?"

"Stolen, and brought to me, yes."

Well, why not? Maybe a challenge would be just the thing to bring her out of the doldrums. "What the hey. I'll do it. Now. About bringing Omega back…."

"Yes, let's talk about that. I can, if you'll agree to my terms, send out the beacon right now, from right here. That really would be best, since there's no way of telling how much longer he has there. If he's been exerting himself, moving around, trying to find the way home, he may've expended a lot of his energy and shortened his time."

"And your terms?"

He approached the mirror from his side again. Spread his hands. Kitten noted that the palms were wrapped in what appeared to be leather thongs. Strange. "Accept my geas. You are familiar with the term?"

"Geas? You mean, like a, a compulsion?"

"Yes. Sort of like a post-hypnotic suggestion that you do this job, steal the object, and bring it to me without delay or," and here he narrowed his eyes at her, "trying to milk the deal for more than we agreed upon. Yes, I've done my homework. Humans are somewhat notorious for doing things like that, you have to admit."

"I don't like the idea of being compelled to do something…."

"Few people do. But, really, Kitten, you'd really be doing your world a great service, and not just in terms of averting a catastrophe. This object—this artifact—doesn't belong on your world, the world of mortals. It poses no danger to me, but it needs to be destroyed before some human uses it and causes untold misery."

"So you say."

Again he spread those curiously wrapped hands. "What can I say, Kitten? I know we've just met, and you've no reason to trust me, but I'm running out of options, and I've really no reason to lie to you. Not about this. I've come to you, asking you for help. Not the other way around." For the first time since he'd appeared, his face looked completely open and sincere.

But Kitten still had her doubts.

"Well, I've already said I'd do it. So I guess I'm in. What is it, and where is it?"

"As to what it is, you're really better off not knowing. Just knowing a thing can be done often makes it possible for someone with the right skill set to recreate it. Besides, and please trust me on this: what it does isn't pretty. Or really all that useful."

"So….I accept your compulsion to do this….say, you wouldn't be having me kill anyone, would you?"

"The geas would only compel you to steal the artifact, and bring it to me. How you do it would be up to you. Anything that happened along the way would be of your own choosing. You would not be forced to kill."

"Yeah," she began, "but the way these things usually go, I get caught, I'm on my own. So it pays to be cautious about what I agree to."

"On the contrary. You get caught, and not only will I get you out, I'll see to it everybody knows you were acting under compulsion from me. Involuntary compulsion, at that: I waylaid you and cast some sort of spell on you when you weren't looking. I'll take the blame for the whole thing. I take care of my own, Kitten."

Well. That was…unexpected. She still didn't know whether or not to believe or trust the Entity—she was leaning towards probably not—but…..

If it would bring Omega back….

And it would save lives, in the long run. Kitten knew she wasn't a killer, anyway. She knew she'd never voluntarily take a life.

And it would bring Omega back…

Plus this doohickey was dangerous, the Entity said. To humans. So, whether or not anybody ever realized it, she'd actually be doing a good deed here….

Plus it would bring Omega back…

"How likely am I to go up against the Titans, in this? 'Cause I won't, I can't fight them."

"How you steal it is up to you. But…tell you what. Rather than have you go it totally alone….maybe there's someone I can send to help you. An able assistant, so to speak. I have just the very person in mind. He has a great deal of experience in these matters, and can probably help you remain undetected. Also, worse comes to worst, he could run interference for you. How does that sound?"

"Better. Who is it?"

"Slade Wilson. Though I haven't approached him yet…"

"Slade Wilson?! Are you crazy? Don't answer that. I heard what he did to Terra! Not to mention putting nanoprobes in Angelique's puppy."

The figure in the mirror shrugged. "Flawed instruments can still work, Kitten, at least, in the short term. And you have to admit, he does have the expertise you need. And the resources."

"Expertise, right. Alright. You won't tell me what this thing is. Where is it?"

He told her.

Kitten fell back into the chair. "Whoa. You….don't ask much of a girl, do you?"

…..

The man who went by the name of Slade Wilson had definitely seen better days.

He'd been a strapping two-hundred sixty pounds of solid, enhanced muscle. Now he was down to about one hundred seventy-five. His uniform hung on him, resembling a shapeless sack more than anything. Every joint hurt, and things he used to laugh off now crippled him.

And all because he'd placed nanoprobes in Angelique's dog, Charlie.

Her adoptive father, the Osiran Thinker called Alpha, had learned of this, and examined the probes. Unlike Angelique, he wasn't fooled by Slade's protestations of "only wanting to help." Instead, he'd turned around and "infected" Slade with the very same probes. A taste, so to speak, of his own medicine.

Bad medicine.

Guess I didn't build very good probes, thought Slade, As they're certainly doing a number on me. The probes had taken over a part of his immune system….and weren't up to the job. In a sense, Slade had a kind of artificially induced AIDS.

He'd sent Cinderblock out for pharmaceuticals not long ago. Cinderblock had never returned, no doubt due to the machinations of the Titans.

"Slade Wilson." The voice sounded behind him.

Slade turned around. He didn't whirl around like he might once have. He couldn't. And, truth to tell, he really didn't care if somebody had penetrated his lair or not, anymore. He had bigger worries, these days.

Behind him was a somewhat short, stocky individual wearing a medieval monk's robe, rust-red in coloration, tied with a rope. Slade noted the eyes…..he wondered if the nanoprobes had gone so far as to affect his mind. He wouldn't doubt it. Nobody and nothing had eyes like that. "Let me see," he began, "You're the devil, come to bargain for my soul. Am I right?" If this was a dream or hallucination, he may as well play along with it.

"Not even close. I don't want your soul. Not today, anyway. I want your service. I wish to hire you, Slade Wilson, for a job you are uniquely qualified to do."

Slade laughed a dry laugh that ended in a hacking cough. "You flatter me. But you're far too late. I'm in no condition to do any of the things I used to do. As you can no doubt see." And he gestured to his withered frame.

"Tsk. A minor detail." The being cocked his thumb at Slade, and immediately, Slade's body tingled as he began to fill out. Within seconds, he was back to his old self again, feeling like new. Wonderingly, he looked down at his arms and legs. He'd resigned himself to wasting away, here in his lair….now, for the first time, he entertained the possibility, the merest possibility, that he might not only live, but actually recoup what he'd lost. It was an intoxicating feeling.

Then he remembered: nothing comes without a price.

He narrowed his one eye at the stranger. "So….you said you wish to hire me? I take it this is a taste of the payment? Or part of it?"

"Part of it. Do this job for me, and your current good health is yours to keep. Plus, of course, whatever other remuneration we agree upon." The being shrugged. "Refuse, and you can go back to wasting away here in your lair. Dreaming of your days of glory."

"You don't leave me much choice."

"Not my style."

Slade rubbed his wrists. It felt so good to….feel good again. "What's the job?"

"You are to assist and protect my agent in a simple job. A theft of an artifact. That's all. Oh, and you see to it that said artifact is brought to me. To me, and to me only. I don't take kindly to those who try to cheat me."

"Fair enough. What do you want stolen?"

"As to what it is, that need not concern you. I will tell you exactly where it is, and what it looks like. Its function, however, is not important. Assist and protect my agent in this mission, Slade Wilson, and I will see to it that you are handsomely rewarded. Yes, very handsomely rewarded, indeed." The being reached into his robe and pulled out…..

…..a solid gold ingot, nearly the size of a cinderblock. Slade's eye widened as he took it in. The being drew forth another one. And another. Levitated them onto the ground in front of Slade. "Go ahead. Examine them. Make sure they're not some illusion."

Slade hefted one of the golden bricks. It was certainly heavy enough; even now, his health fully restored, it was like lifting a boulder. It certainly seemed real. This much gold—if it was real—would be worth billions, at least. "You must want this artifact very badly."

"I very much want for humans not to have it. It would only create more misery, left here. There's enough of that in the world as it is. So. Are you in?"

Slade remembered how horrible he had felt, only a few minutes ago. Compared to that, even the gold in his hands was of secondary importance. Very secondary. "I'm in. So where is this artifact, anyway?"

The Entity told him. Slade found himself back in his chair. "You….don't think small, do you?"

….

"Alright," Kitten said, straightening her shoulders, "You said you needed my help to send out this beacon?"

"Yes. Just step up here to the mirror, and we'll begin. Now. Place your hands on the mirror over my hands….yes, just like that. Now….hold on….." And, through the cold glass surface, Kitten could feel a build-up of raw power such as she'd never felt before, never even imagined possible before. In the mirror, the being's eyes were closed, and his face was showing signs of strain; he seemed to be putting a lot of effort into this. But there was more.

They appeared to be linked, in some strange way, and Kitten could sense what the being, this Entity was feeling, at least on a superficial level. And, over and above the incredible power he was exerting, she could feel a kind of strange sincerity: he wanted this to work. Maybe he had his own reasons, but he sincerely wanted to bring Omega back. And it wasn't just a question of getting her to do this job; he really wanted to help her. "Now, Kitten! Picture him in your mind, as you knew him! Make it as real as possible, and hurry! I can't maintain this level of exertion for long!" And she could sense the indescribable power he was pouring into this effort; exploding galaxies would be as sparks by comparison. A beam, twisting and stretching, snaking out beyond all that was….. She pictured Omega in her mind, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he laughed, even….

"Kitten! It's not working! For some reason, he's reluctant to come back!" The Entity paused, the stress evident on his face. "Talk to him!"

"Talk to him? What do I say?"

"Use your imagination! Say something!"

Kitten reached out with her mind, striving to contact him. He had to be out there somewhere. He had to come back to her. "Omega! It's me, Kitten! Come on back!"

From beyond the farthest edge of reality: "Kitten?"

"Yes, it's me! Come on back! We can't hold this beacon much longer!"

" Maybe better….I should go…cause too much trouble…..."

"Omega! Don't you dare even think like that!" And, in her mind, she showed him how she'd been, these last few weeks: her depression, the Titans calling her to see what was wrong, Angelique, now a friend, dropping by, saying she didn't "wanna lose her big sister"….

…the aspirin in her medicine cabinet, and what she'd half-planned to do with them….

"No!"

"Then get your Osiran butt back here! NOW!"

"I….am on my way….hold on…." And the contact was lost.

Kitten and the Entity stepped back, both exhausted from the effort. Kitten looked around. "I—I don't see him…."

The Entity seemed to be doing the equivalent of catching his breath, rubbing his wrists in the mirror. "It won't be instant, Kitten. But the connection has been established into the Infinite. Since there's no passage of time there, it'll last. Now all he has to do is, follow it to the right universe."

"What if he gets the wrong universe?"

"He won't. But even if he did, he wouldn't be able to remain there, as it wouldn't be his universe. It's hard to explain, but traveling into another universe requires a certain amount of….preparation. You can't just stumble into one. If you do, you, well, sort of bounce back, eventually. Usually instantly. Otherwise, you'd be turning a corner every day, and finding yourself in some other reality, like an old episode of 'Twilight Zone', or something. In his case, he'd 'bounce back' into the Infinite."

Okay. Time for her part. "Well. Here we go, I guess. What do you want me to do? How do we go about doing this?" Inwardly, she cringed at the thought of accepting the Entity's geas, his compulsion, but she had agreed. But it still seemed like some sort of violation of her, somehow. She felt more than naked, in a weird sort of way.

He sensed her thoughts. "Kitten, what I'm asking of you isn't some awful fate, some takeover of your mind and will, or anything like that. I don't want to overpower your own mind; that would turn you into a mindless zombie, and, one, that isn't what I want for you, anyway, and two, it would be counterproductive. I want, no, I need you to exercise your own talents to the fullest, not be a puppet on a string. That wouldn't help either one of us at all.

"Now. We can do this either of two ways. I can put the geas on you now, and you'd have about a year to complete the theft. And, as I said, you do it any way you want, any way you'd see fit. Or, if you like, we can wait until Omega actually returns. Then, I'd have fulfilled my part of the bargain to the max. And then, and only then, you'd accept my geas. This has the added benefit of not obligating you to anything, should he, for some unknown reason, not return. Which one sounds best to you?"

"How do you know I'd agree to accept your geas once he's back?"

"Let's just say I trust you."

Kitten thought hard. A part of her really wanted to put off this geas thing as long as possible, but she had made a bargain. And there was no doubt in her mind that the Entity had done his best to live up to his end of it; she'd sensed the enormous power he'd used, to make that beacon.

There was another factor. If she did it now, maybe she'd have it done by the time Omega got back. That way, he need never know she'd committed a crime. Maybe. Besides, anything else was just putting off the inevitable. She had little doubt that, "trust" aside, the Entity had some no doubt unpleasant ways of dealing with those who didn't live up to their bargains. She shrugged. "No time like the present, I guess. Lay it on me." And she closed her eyes and steeled herself…

"It's done. There. Now, did that hurt?"

She felt herself, turning her senses inward, searching for something abnormal. She still felt just the same, no real difference. "I—I don't feel any different…."

"I told you, I wasn't here to override your mind. This is just a subtle thing. But you have a year. I'll be in touch." And with that, the Entity's image in the mirror faded away, like a heat mirage disappearing in the desert.

Kitten sat, thinking for a long, long time.

…

Slade sat in his lair, thinking. What the Entity had tasked him with was no small thing, no minor pilfering. Oh, no. This object, whatever it was, was in one of the most heavily guarded areas on Earth. Slade had once hacked the Pentagon's security system, in order to learn the whereabouts of a certain individual. That had been a cakewalk compared to what he now faced.

But nothing on Earth was completely burglar-proof, he reminded himself. And, all he had to do was contact this agent he was supposed to work with…..with a start, he realized that he'd been so enthralled with the challenge of stealing something from one of the most heavily fortified strongholds on Earth, that he had forgotten to inquire as to just who this agent was.

Well, presumably, he, she, or, conceivably , it would contact him, when the time was right.

To be continued…..

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