June 12th, 2028
04:15 EDT: Watchtower
"So you're saying that- wait what is it that you're saying exactly?" Conner Kent, clone of Kal-El and the second to take up the mantle of Superman, regarded his longtime friend and the former's mentor with a disbelieving frown.
"Agreed, this...tale you speak of is more than difficult to accept." Kaldur'ahm stroked his beard and shifted the grip on his trident, he paced back and forth around the circular conference table.
Kaldur had grown accustomed to the weight of the legendary weapon over the years of his reign. He had long outgrown his old alias, now Kaldur operated under the codename "Maelstrom". He wore a sleeveless black one piece, the golden symbol for Atlantis rested on his belt area. Dark red armor covered the outer areas of his legs and a shuttered sleeve of armor covered his left arm and shoulder. The sleeve of armor stretched into a standing collar that halfway encircled his neck, and was held in place by straps that wrapped around the side of his torso. Maelstrom's hair had grown into long platinum blonde dreadlocks, which were worn in a ponytail that reached the mid of his back. Kaldur had even grew a full beard to match.
"Now guys let's hear them out. Come on this is Dick and Mr. Wayne. There must be some truth to what they are saying." M'gann stood between her teammates, placing calm hands on their shoulders. She telepathically urged them to relax. Wordlessly Kaldur and Connor complied and visibly relaxed. The resident Martian heroine had changed quite a bit after the war, much like her comrades. She had taken to wearing her true white skin color. M'gann chose to retain her red hair and allowed it to reach just above her butt as well.
M'gann also filled out a bit as she aged, the Martian naturally gained a lean yet toned body and womanly curves too. As a result of accepting herself, M'gann rid herself of the hood and cape of the suit altogether. She no longer had anything to hide from. The girl who was once meek and quick to please others, had turned into the world's greatest telepath and the strongest heroine Earth possessed. "Bruce continue."
"I have already explained. If you do not believe me so be it." Bruce still not used to walking on his own fully, reached for his cane and limped away. "I will handle the situation myself." He was dressed in a simple pair of black slacks, shoes, and a white dress shirt. "I should have known I couldn't rely on this new league." The former vigilante damn near hissed as he spoke
"Wait a minute big guy, relax." Dick blocked off his mentor's stormy exit, Bruce hesitated but ultimately relinquished to his son's request. Bruce respected Dick. Due to time and puberty Grayson no longer looked up to Wayne in a physical sense, but was now able to look him directly in the eye. Symbolic? Maybe. He didn't care, Dick's only concern was being the Batman Gotham needed. But that is another story. "I know how this sounds but there is no doubt whatsoever that a speedster was in the Batcave." Dick in his league batsuit, which was black with blue stripes running up the sides from the fist instead of navy blue, set to diffuse the tension in the air. "They sent us a warning."
"Whether it was Wally or not, doesn't really matter." Grayson despite his known history for searching for clues to the "death" of his best friend, skipped over the topic of him possibly being alive rather quickly. Instead Dick reached into his utility belt and withdrew a flashdrive, he plugged it into a port on the side of the half circular conference table. A hologram flickered to life, "This is what we should be concerned with."
Connor stood from the table, his entire physique showcased by the light of the image and the low lighting in the room. Thanks to the efforts of Cadmus, the clone had a significantly faster aging process, though still slower than the average human. He now resembled his genetic template more than ever save for having a beard. He stood 6'5 ft tall and was nearly as broad as a tree, he truly was Superman.
"Okay names, what of them?" But he still lacked the manners and passive nature of his predecessor. Connor scratched at his well-trimmed full beard which connected to some sideburns and a mustache. His suit was black with a thin white utility-like belt around his waist. His white cape rested over his shoulders and formed a turtle neck just underneath his chin. He wore white calf high boots. Thick white stripes encircled the wrists of the suit. The "S" was white and rested upon a red backdrop that merged with the cape.
Bruce pointed his cane at the image, "These names were carved into the ground by the energies of the speedster." Bruce paused and seemed to hesitate for just a moment, "We are to unite them. The six." M'gann studied the names before addressing the men, "These names aren't ringing any bells. I'm not sure if any of them are relevant in the present superhuman community."
Kaldur sheated the trident with the holster on his back, his silver eyes scanned the list as well. "So we are to form a new "Team" comprised of these inexperienced metahumans. At least when we formed the "Team" most of us had extensive training as well as experience prior."
Bruce tapped his cane against the floor, a dull echo followed which caught the younger heroes' attention. "I know how it sounds but I would not bring this to the League if I was not certain this information is valuable." Bruce pointed to the window that overlooked the Earth. "A threat greater than Darkseid and the Light is coming. When? I wish I knew..." Bruce nudged his head in the direction of the hologram. "But if we want to minimize the casualties and destruction of whatever is coming our way, we need to consider all of our options."
Dick stood beside Bruce and faced his best friends, "And if that means forming a new "Team" then so be it." Dick's tone was blunt and serious, very similar to his mentor's demeanor as Batman. "I refuse to be unprepared for another war."
Connor pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to calm his nerves. He tried to be understanding, "But you can't really be willing to form a team made up of undisciplined children. Especially on the assumption that this warning isn't some kind of ploy by the Light." Connor matched the steely gaze of the batmen, "They have the means to do powerful and scary things. And I refuse to endanger others over some misguided old man's need to feel useful again."
"Conner!" M'gann attempted to calm down her husband but he was already calm and simply rebuffed her. "No M'gann, he's need to hear it." Bruce stood calmly before them, completely unfazed.
"You're an old, paranoid, miserable man." Connor marched right up to the older man, easily towering over him. "You can't accept that your time has passed you up, and now you want to chase ghosts."
Weathered blue eyes met determined younger ones, a silent battle of wills had begun. "Regardless of what you think of me Connor," Bruce stared into the very soul of the young Kryptonian. "Like you, I only want to protect this world and its people."
"Yes, I am a paranoid and miserable man." Bruce turned his back on Connor and limped toward the large window that overlooked Earth. "I have been that way my entire life and will die that way, but while I am still of some use I will make damn sure I protect our world."
"Now I will ask you all again," Bruce limped right back up to Connor and matched his gaze once more. "Will you help me?" Superman and the former Batman stared each other down for what felt like a lifetime before Connor spoke.
He sighed aloud, "Senior Justice League members, we are going to put this topic to a vote." The four former sidekicks, now Justice League leaders took seats among the table, and faced the aged Wayne. M'gann was up first to vote. The Martian nodded her head and spoke confidently, "I vote yes."
Then Kaldur, "I am with you as well Bruce. I vote yes." Dick's face was devoid of any of the usual charisma and relaxation he was known for, he was starkly serious. "I vote yes as well."
Then Bruce set his eyes on Connor, the two stared at each other for just a moment. Connor sighed in defeat and scratched at the tip of his nose, "I will probably regret this, but Kal-El trusted you. So I guess I should try as well. I vote yes. But do not make me regret this Bruce." Connor fixed the former vigilante with a glare that reminded him vaguely of a time when Clark and himself were at odds with one another. And yet also reminded him of a certain bald billionaire. Scary how dna works.
"So what is the first move Bruce?" M'gann crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the elder. He clicked a button on his watch and a map of the United States flickered to life. Red dots were scattered upon it.
"We start recruiting."
June 12th, 2028
22:11 EDT: Brooklyn, New York
"What in the God's name were you thinking little girl?!" For the thousandth time since she had been picked up from the downtown holding cell, said girl- Danielle rolled her eyes and blocked out her uncle's tirade. "I mean seriously charges of suspected arson and conspiracy!? Your mother went through hell and back to move you from Hawaii to the states, in hopes that you wouldn't be influenced to use it."
"It?" Danielle arched a single dark eyebrow, creating a slight wrinkle in her dark sun kissed skin. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that 'Anakala."
"You know damn well what I'm referring to," Danielle's uncle through marriage, Adam Jamison glared at her before concentrating on the road again. "Your abilities." He whispered the word as if it was taboo.
"Well I'm sorry I was born this way." Danielle crossed her arms over her chest, the car began to become unnaturally humid. "I'm sorry that I try to understand and control "it". Because I'm afraid of what I could do."
She raised her voice and screamed at her uncle, "I'm sorry my mother left me with you and Aunt Lydia, and that I ruined your perfect little marriage!" She slammed her palms into the dashboard, causing the car to swerve to the right suddenly.
"Dani!" Adam quickly pulled the car back on road and placed a hand on his niece's shoulder. "Calm down you're "boiling" right now." He pointed to the dashboard, Danielle noted the deeply etched hand prints and the light glow that radiated from her hands.
The Hawaiian native took a deep breath and attempted to calm herself, the warmth receded gradually until the temperature returned to normal. She mumbled a barely audible, "Sorry.." Adam sighed, and returned the gesture. They rode in silence until they pulled up in front of their apartment building. The engine transitioned into a blissful silence, a silence which he then broke.
"Dani, we love you. Your Aunt and I, and I'm sorry if I've ever made you believe otherwise." She refused to met his gaze or even speak, so he continued. "But your powers are dangerous, when your mother asked us to take you in we were hesitant at first. But we realized just how hard the divorce would be on you. Especially with the confusion of trying to grow into a young woman. And that's hard enough as it is, not to mention having the powers too."
Adam Jamison, raked a hand through his neatly trimmed blonde hair. "The more you dabble and experiment with these abilities, the harder it will be for you to have a normal life." Adam turned toward his niece, "That's all we want for you. To be normal."
Danielle tucked a strand of inky black hair behind her ear and pushed the car door open. She quickly shuffled out and slammed the door, sending a powerful tremor that rocked the vehicle. "Who says I want to be normal?"
"Indeed Miss Kane, who wants to be normal?" Before the young teen could storm into the apartment, she was caught off guard by the sudden booming voice of a old white man. He was well dressed, and resembled what she imagined fat cat American business men to look like. Expect this guy was admittedly attractive, tall, and pretty fit for his age.
"Umm yeah, normal is boring I guess." She eyed the man carefully, even though her uncle was in the car, Danielle allowed the fiery warmth to spread. She could never be too sure of what to expect from the people of New York at times. Quickly the warm feeling reached her hands once more. An eerie glow lit up the shadowy streets, "Hey man, l'm not one of those corner girls. So take a hike!" Despite the obvious intent to maim Danielle spoke with, the man appeared unfazed and simply edged closer.
"I am not here to harm you Miss Kane." He strolled right up to her, ignoring the intense heat she radiated. "My name is Bruce Wayne and I want to make you an offer Danielle."
June 13th, 2028
15:08 EDT: Boston, Massachusetts
"Hey you hear me tawlkin' to you?!" A thick New England accent rang out followed by the sound of flesh smacking flesh. The recipient of said abuse was a tall, lanky, pale fellow. The abuser, a much shorter but burly built young man surrounded by his goons. "Yo Jay, I don't think this guy's too bright.. He ain't right in the head or something." Said guy, flicked his mismatched blue and green eyes at the speaker.
"Shaddup will ya!" Jay sneered at his companion, and returned his attention to the taller boy. "Lyrik right? That's your name?" The taller boy nodded meekly and simply looked everywhere but at the bully, they had him cornered in a dead end alley.
"Yes," a thick German accent emerged from the teen's voice. "I am Lyrik." He tucked a stray strand of long blond hair behind his ear nervously. The assembly of teens erupted in roars of laughter, "My gawd, this guy's fresh off the boat I see." Jay contorted his face into a snooty expression, and mimicked the thick accent. "I am the one called Lyrik, yes. I am from Nazi Germany, and I speak good English yes?"
The group's laughter multiplied from there, and Lyrik felt the desire to curl into a ball and disappear come on. "Well since you're new here, allow us to introduce ourselves." Jay spread his arms out in a gesture of showing off, "We're the Bang Babies, the New England division." He then threw up a gang sign which the others mirrored and smirked arrogantly, "And this street is ours, there's a toll to walk it."
"But I have no money," Lyrik reached into his pockets and came back with lint. The smile that was reflected in the gang members sent a chill through him, the leader spoke again. "Well seein' as you're the new guy and all at school. You should join us." Jay pointed a finger to himself. "We could always use more man powah. What do you say, German?" Lyrik refused to make eye contact with the shorter boy, which was hard considering he was much taller than the thug. "I do not believe my mutti or vati vould approve of it, I am very sorry..." Lyrik simply bowed his head slightly as he apologized, a sudden shove caught him off guard and sent him to the ground. The group quickly began to stomp and the kick the German teen. "That's fine, just consider this us letting you off easy!" Jay hollered as he and the others mercilessly jumped Lyrik. His cries for help fell on deaf ears as others who walked by were too afraid and too familiar with the deviants to interrupt. There were no heroes in this neighborhood.
He felt it, the burning sensation. His eyes burned with what felt like white-hot fire, it consumed him. The beating from the thugs didn't even compare to the fires that begged to be released, all he had to do was let loose. All of it would end, the bullies, the pain. Everything. But Lyrik couldn't. He wouldn't. So Lyrik shut his eyes to block out the world, and protect those who wished him harm.
A rock smacked one of the assailants in the head, causing the delinquent to fall over. Alerting the others, the beating was abruptly ended. "The hell?" Jay turned his attention to the entrance of the alley, an older man stood before them. "Hey I'm all for boys being boys and all, but this situation clearly needs an adult." A charming smile was flashed their way, a man roughly in his early thirties approached them without a hint of fear. He was dressed in a tailored, expensive suit. He was taller than most of the teens besides Lyrik.
"Listen I don't give a damn who you are, but you betta be on your way before you get dealt with." Jay walked up to the man, his crew right behind him. "This Bang Baby business homie. I suggest you keep it movin'." Lyrik refused to open his eyes from behind the guard he formed to protect his face. "Lyrik Saunders?" The man looked directly at Lyrik, he noticed the bruises that were starting to form. A flash of anger showed itself on the man's face before it vanished in a mere moment. "I'm here for you, we need to talk."
"Name's Richard Grayson, and allow me the pleasure of taking care of your pest problem."
June 13th, 2028
21:30 EDT: Starview Heights, Georgia
"Pull!" A rusted hubcap soared twenty feet into the night sky before it was vaporized by a dark purple energy blast. "And that's total annihilation! Awesome!" A plump black teen gushed excitedly and scribbled down on his clipboard. "I think your powers are getting stronger Graham. Just a few months ago you could barely shatter fine china. Now you're obliterating metal!" He flipped through the data that detailed every trial and result. "Amazing.."
Graham blew on his pointer finger, dismissing the energy that radiated from it. "Thanks Shawn, it's crazy to think I've only had these powers for two months now." A tall, pale, blue eyed, brown-haired teen smirked. "I wonder if there's more to these "Alpha Particle" things?"
The two friends had taken to using the local junkyard as a training field, they were careful to watch just how much destruction they caused. Last thing they needed was the owner calling the cops on them. Let alone having to come up with an excuse for why half the wreckage had superheated holes punched into them. "Based on the data we managed to salvage from Professor Miles' lab, a single alpha particle has the energy output potential to power all of New York City for at least a decade or two."
"But how much energy can I store at one time?" Graham walked beside his best friend. "Like will I just blow up if I don't expel a certain amount before a certain amount of time?" Graham rubbed his hand against the shaved sides of his head in frustration.
"I don't know Graham, I wish I had a better answer for you." Shawn pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I don't really have the resources or proper equipment to throughly explore the limits of your "abilities"." Graham casted his disgruntled gaze to the moon, "You okay Graham?"
Shawn stopped just before Graham, he attempted to be comforting by patting Graham's shoulder. "I'm here for you bud, you're not alone in this." Graham looked over his shoulder at him, "You sure about that?" His bright blue eyes were clouded with purple energy due to his sudden downcast mood. Shawn flinched at the cold tone he used, "What do you mean? Of course you're not alone in this. You've got me man."
Graham shook his head, an amused smirk spread upon his face. "I need to clear my head," the air before them grew warmer like hot air before a thick purple-black aura cloaked his form. "Don't wait up." Graham shot off into the night, a sonic boom cackled harshly when he took flight. Simultaneously leaving behind a fading purple trail of energy in his departure.
Shawn looked around the dark, creepy junkyard and shivered visibly. "Well thanks a lot Graham, you were my ride home butt muncher!"
...
The air was much thinner the higher he got, Graham was grateful to whatever god was up in the heavens that he developed the power of flight. He wasn't exactly sure just how fast he could fly, but the sonic boom that followed his departure was a likely testament to supersonic speed. Or not. Who would give a damn about speed when a bird's eye view of the world was available to you whenever you desired.
Graham allowed his flight speed to slow to a comfortable levitation, he gazed about the spiraling antenna towers and skyscrapers that attempted to touch the sky. His city was quickly becoming known as the "Metropolis of the South". Maybe he could one day be its Superman he supposed. Again Graham set his eyes to the clear full moon that seemed just within his reach. He stretched a pale hand forward, clasping it shut as his arm reached as far as it could. "I have to try." The wind whipped back and forth around Graham harshly and the fire in the pit of his stomach roared, his energy cloak violently flared to life. Easily engulfing his frame and rolling from him in thick superheated waves. He took off for the stars.
To a stargazer, a marvelous purple comet was streaking through the cloudless night. The darkness of the night blurred into a tunnel of speckled lights to Graham as he zoomed up the levels of the atmosphere. Five seconds. Troposphere. Nine seconds. Stratosphere. Twelve seconds. Mesosphere. Fourteen seconds. Thermosphere. Fifteen seconds. Exosphere.
Graham pulled an abrupt stop just as the effects of atmospheric travel set in, "I did...it.." The teen wordlessly slipped into a blissful dark world, he began to float lifelessly until he was pulled back by Earth's gravity. Now to a stargazer a bright red-orange comet flashed and sped through the cloudless night sky. Followed by the sudden appearance of a faster approaching white flash, quickly the two clashed and merged into one.
"I've got you." Connor slowed his flight to a stable levitation, he cradled the younger man bridal style. "Way to shoot for the stars kid." Connor smirked to himself and set off at a leisure pace. "You've got potential that's for sure."
June 13th, 2028
22:00 EDT: Houston, Texas
Heavy percussion drums bellowed, flames danced and licked at the starry night sky, a young Native American women sat in a meditative stance before her uncle. "You must focus Riley," The man had long braided dark hair and light brown skin. He wore a slightly worn out jean jacket with colorful designs around the breast, and a black cowboy hat. "Embrace your surroundings, allow the Earth to take hold of you. Ignore all worldly distractions."
Riley Blackwell huffed loudly, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She cracked a brown eye open to glare at her uncle Mason. "Well it would probably help if you would be quiet Uncle. And can you please turn off that infernal drums cassette tape..." The old man simply smiled and nodded in understanding, he pressed the pause button on the old school boombox. Then in one fluid motion he swiped two fingers across his lips. "My lips are sealed."
Riley suppressed a snort of laughter at her Uncle's antics, he could be wise one moment then just as childish as her the next. Probably why they got along so well. "Thank you," she mumbled before inhaling a deep breath and settling back into her meditation. It was almost instantaneous, she felt a strong tugging sensation at her heart and brain simultaneously. When Riley opened her eyes, she stood amongst a barren wasteland that seemed to stretch endlessly for miles. It reminded her of the Arizona desert in a way. This was the land of the Lakota, her paternal ancestral tribe. Or at least it was supposed to be.
"Welcome back child," a thunderous yet gentle reverberated through the landscape. Riley absentmindedly twirled the end of her long braided brown hair, speaking with her ancestral guide always put her on edge. "You know why I'm here spirit."
"Then proceed when ready. Return rain to the Great Plains of the Lakota." Riley nodded and flexed her fingers until she felt the digits pops. The Lakota teen reached deep within herself, until she felt a "switch". She flipped the mechanism and opened the floodgates, brilliant blue-white electricity crackled to life from her hands and danced off of her body. The energy thrashed around wildly and carved up the ground just before Riley reined in control. The concentrated electricity she wielded formed large energy spheres wrapped around crackling unstable power.
"Grawwh!" With a mighty war cry she smacked her palms together and aimed for the sky. Lightning arced from her hands so blindingly fast it looked like Riley simply guided the element instead of generated it. 'Kradoom!' An overbearing flash of white light obscured her vision. A clap of thunder followed the release of pent up energy, echoing through the empty land.
When her vision stopped swaying irregularly and returned to normal, Riley realized she had been knocked down by the backlash of her release. "Did it work?" She peered up at the sky, hordes of dark storm clouds rolled in. She felt a light drop of cool liquid smack her forehead, a smile graced her beautiful face. "I did it!" Riley jumped for joy and proceeded to do every terrible dance move from the 70's her uncle taught her. "Wahooo!" The rain fell at a steady rate and grew heavier to the point of pouring.
Then it stopped. Out of nowhere. The clouds were stabbed by sunlight and soon completely swiped away altogether. "What the fuck bro?" Riley whined to the landscape, the rain she summoned quickly dried up. It did not even look like it rained at all. "Spirit, explain now."
The voice boomed once more. "You have made a breakthrough and achieved considerable progress. Yet there is still much more to your journey." Riley screamed and flailed her arms around angrily. "I'm so over this whole spiritual journey mumbo-jumbo bs." she mumbled under her breath.
"Child of the Lakota, only when you master your gifts and become one with them will you bring life to the homeland of your people." Riley sighed and was disappointed when she felt that even her hair and clothes were dry once more. "Ughh...fine" She slapped her forehead with her palm and groaned miserably. "I'm out. I need to eat something. Peace spirit." Riley threw up the peace sign to the bare landscape and watched it melt away to a world of darkness.
When Riley came to and opened her eyes, she found her uncle chatting with a strange black man. He was tall and handsome in an exotic way, with the the most interesting colored eyes she had ever seen. The stranger noticed her first. He walked up to her and offered Riley his hand.
"Greetings Riley. I am Kaldur'ahm. King of Atlantis. Member of the Justice League. And I am very interested in what you are capable of."
"Holy cow shit..."
June 13th, 2028
23:45 EDT: Starling City, California
'Whap Bap Bap Whapp Whapp Bap!' Powerful strikes hit home with years of perfected ease. Each punch landed solidly and sent the bag careening wildly, yet it continually fell perfectly in place for another round of chained combination strikes. 'Whapp Whapp Whapp!' Left hook. Right body hook. Head bob. Left hook.
Left jab. 'Bap!' Right body blow. 'Whapp!' Feint with the left. Swift head bobbing movement. Duck. Twist hips slightly. Step into opponent's guard. Punch through your obstacle. Right hook! 'Whapp!'
The last hook landed perfectly and thunderously loud on impact. The force behind the blow ripped the bag from its fixed hanging position, and hurled it fifteen feet away before it slid to a stop. A head sized hole was punched in the sparring bag, its innards were spilt across the gym floor. "Ahh fuck me, that's the third one this week." A sun-kissed, brunette boxer admired his bandaged knuckles. The teen noted that despite the work he just put in on the punching bag, his hands did not hurt one bit. "I'm getting stronger." The tone of the declaration was not one of excitement, but clear resentment. "Too strong."
In a effort to clear his suddenly declining mood, the boxer went to fetch yet another punching bag.
"Dinah and Oliver would just fuss if they knew I spent half of my month's rent just on replacing these damn things." The boxer talked aimlessly to himself as he tossed a new three hundred and fifty pound punching bag on his shoulder while he also carried the battered old one to the closet.
"You've got quite a swing on you Mr. Grant." Johnathan Grant turned to the sound of the voice, he was welcomed to the site of an aged businessman. "Hey how did you get in here?" Johnathan did not even attempt to hide his aggressive snarl. "And I'll tell you like I told the rest, the gym isn't for sale." God how he hated the sleazy bastards who would throw money at him to tempt him into selling his grandfather's gym. "Now leave before I get upset." Johnathan pointed to the exit and looked dead serious about getting physical if the situation called for it. The last few guys who couldn't take no for an answer sent some "motivation" his way to strong arm him into giving up the gym. Let's just say "motivation" is never going to be inspiring anyone ever again.
"You are undoubtedly your grandfather's boy." The well dressed man smirked and even began to laugh lightly. "Just like him in fact. It's almost uncanny how much you look like Ted."
Johnathan regarded the man with his best scrutinizing face, "You talk as if you knew my Abuelo personally." The older man walked closer, allowing Johnathan a better view. As a boxer himself Johnathan easily recognized the grace and lightness in his steps, also the confident stride and body language were giveaways too. "You're a fighter?"
The old man smiled, this time only for the briefest moment. "You're a bit more perceptive than he was though. But yes I was a fighter, a long time ago." The elder fighter offered his hand to shake, which the youth accepted quickly. It was firm, he was definitely a fighter. He was deceptively strong. "So you're retired then?" Johnathan inquired, the man did not look that old to retire from a pro-fighting career. Maybe he was injured. A common end to the careers of most great fighters.
"I wouldn't consider myself retired, nowadays I have taken to training other like-minded individuals full time." Johnathan wrinkled up his face at the phrase, "Like-minded?"
Before he could think Johnathan found himself acting on the natural accord of his instincts. They had served him well in his life, so he always trusted them. The young boxer wordlessly captured the man's arm in a submission hold, he then noticed that the man had reached for his phone. Johnathan quickly separated from him and apologized profusely. "I'm so so so sorry sir! I thought you were reaching for a weapon and my reflexes just kicked in and-"
The older man simply raised his hand, effectively silencing the boy's rushed explanation. He rolled his shoulder, flexed his fingers, and nodded. "I am impressed Mr. Grant, not many can say they have so effectively caught me off guard. Or even landed a hand on me in years."
The way the mysterious man spoke bothered Johnathan, he spoke in a way that vaguely reminded Johnathan of his late grandfather. Ted Grant, the infamous WildCat. "You never mentioned your name sir?" Rather curtly he snapped an answer right back at the young boxer. "You never asked."
"Fair enough," the teen shrugged his shoulders and smirked at the slightly snark comment. "You know who I am, It's only fair that I know you."
The old man simply walked to the far wall, it was decorated with newspaper clippings and photos that dated back to the days of Justice Society. "I'm sure Ted talked about me, probably in a backhanded manner. But nonetheless we were close." He pointed to a particular picture of two men. It was his grandfather around sixty years of age but in the best shape of his life with a much younger but very fit dark haired man. Then it hit him, like a well-place uppercut just under the chin.
"You're- you're Bruce Wayne!?" The man nodded and set about pulling up something on his phone. "Now that you know me, tell if you know anything about this.."
Bruce handed the phone to Johnathan, it pulled up surveillance footage. A young woman, likely in her twenties was withdrawing cash from an atm machine at an ungodly hour. Just as she was finished counting her money she was rushed by a group of thugs, three of them. When they were about to make off with her money, a black blur swooped in from the left corner of the screen. Just as quickly as it came, the blur dispatched the criminals swiftly with decisive strikes. The entire exchange happened in a little over a minute. The footage then cut, abruptly ending.
"When I saw those moves, I realized only one man could throw punches like that. And I was very much assured it wasn't the Batman." Johnathan grimaced, and sighed in defeat. It was obvious he was had.
"Look I know what you are going to say, I shouldn't be running the streets of Starling City punching crooks in the face." Johnathan paused for a moment, then spoke with strong conviction. "But I'm making a difference, or at least I'm trying to."
A single dark eyebrow arched, "You have me mistaken Mr. Grant, I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to train you." Johnathan's mood did a quick one-eighty as he found the man's declaration quite humorous.
"What could you teach me Mr. Wayne? No offense but my Abuelo taught me everything he knew and then some." Johnathan folded his chiseled arms over his defined chest, very much sure that the old Wayne was delusional.
"Your grandfather, rest his soul, taught you how to fight. But I am going to teach you how to be a hero. I am putting together a team, and I want you to on it Johnathan." Johnathan leaned back against the wall and contemplated Bruce's words for a moment before he spoke, "Okay you've got me interested. So what's the deal?"
June 15th, 2028
04:21 EDT: New Orleans, Louisiana
"You leavin' already? Why don't you stay 'till the morning?" A beautiful twenty-something year old woman covered her nude body with bedsheets. She had blazing red hair, hazel eyes, freckles, bronze skin, and a body even the gods would be envious of. She was absolutely stunning, truly a perfect woman to many men. But not to all. "Mah apologies cheri, but ah can't stay for t'long. Ah'ma busy man." An obviously much younger man slipped his pants on and turned his uncaring gaze upon his lover of the night. "Ah must be on mah way darlin'." The young man looked to be around sixteen, very fit, with light brown skin, eyes the color of gold, and long straight dark hair that curled a little. He was beyond handsome, almost too good to be true. A man who walked like the devil but looked like an angel. The thick yet smooth Cajun accent of his simply played up his sex appeal.
The woman simply pouted childishly and folded her arms over her ample chest. "If you leave me right now I will say you date raped me. And the police will believe me. I don't think a pretty boy such as yourself will do well in prison." Just as he was making his exit the teenager stiffened upon hearing her bold claim. He then began to laugh, "Now hol' up dere cheri, ah think you've forgotten ah'm de minor here." The look of realization was obvious. The woman knew she would be at fault for having sex with a minor, desperate, she threw herself after him. She couldn't allow herself to be shamed publicly. She grabbed a knife and rushed him, before he could turn around she stabbed him in the back. She stabbed him right over the heart, and twisted the handle while pushing down hard for good measure.
She heard the sound of lips sucking on teeth, and was horrified when the teen turned around seemingly unfazed by the knife in his back. "Tsk tsk tsk. See now why would'ya go an' do something stupid like dat?" He yanked the knife out of his back, almost immediately the wound began to shrink as skin mended itself back together. The only proof that she hadn't hallucinated the whole ordeal was the blood stain and hole on his white tee shirt. She backed away slowly until she tripped over the coffee table. "What are you?" A dark pigment crawled across the boy's golden eyes and overtook them. All that was left were pitch black scleras and blood red pupils. "Me? Ah'm just a man dats got places tah be. Au revior mon cheri." The mysterious teen waved and made his exit. The creole teen had managed to leave the beautiful woman somehow scared, aroused, and confused all at the same time.
...
"Anotha one Jeri," the black teen tapped his glass with his finger. He was damn near drunk off his ass, and loved every moment of it. An elderly black bartender took his glass and slid a shot of moonshine infront of him. "What's dis Jeri? Ah just want anotha beer." The bartender nudged his head, "Some little cutie bought that for you. Down there."
A blonde bombshell waved at him from the other side of the bar, she had on a tight little black dress that left little to the imagination. She looked to be in her early thirties, which was fine. He liked his women experienced. Quickly he downed the drink, and smacked his lips at the bitter aftertaste. "Don't wait up for me mon ami, ah'm goin' in." He hopped up from the bar stool, straightened out his brown trench coat, and smoothly glided over to the fair maiden.
"Why hello dere cheri," he offered his most charming smile. "De name's Jean-August. Jean-August Marai. A pleasure tah meet ya." Jean-August claimed her hand and planted a soft kiss on it, she smiled warmly. "An' thank ya for de drank belle."
"No thanks necessary sugah. I find something very wrong with this picture. A man fine as yourself drinking alone is a sin if I've ever seen one." She played in his hair, and lightly outlined his jawline with her nail. "You're much too handsome to be here all alone dear. How about you come home with me for the rest of the night?"
He arched a single dark eyebrow and laughed playful, "Ah think ah would very much like dat madam." The blonde grabbed his hand and lead him to the door, on the way out Jean-August winked knowingly at the old bartender.
...
The two were quite a distance away from the bar when Jean-August suddenly stopped walking, his hesitation concerned the blonde. "What's wrong sugah, don't tell me you getting cold feet on me now?" She cooed and playful whispered in his ear. The handsome teen smiled and shook his head, clearly amused. "What's so funny?" The cougar was starting to get annoyed.
"You cheri," Jean-August's eyes shifted from gold to red on black. "Ah can smell Martian a mile away. An' you my dear hav' dat stench of the big bad Manhunter himself." M'gann barely had time to activate her phasing, she narrowly avoided the clawed hand that plunged through where her chest had just been.
She jumped back a few feet from Jean-August, and placed a hand to her hammering heart. "What is it dat'chu want Martian?" Jean-August looked extremely disinterested as he used his clawed nails to pick old meat out of his canines.
"We want you, more specifically your skill." Bruce emerged from the shadows of the old buildings surrounding them. "Sorry about the deception, but we needed someway to get your attention." Bruce gestured to M'gann. The Martian woman blushed lightly, she seemed embarrassed about the entire ordeal.
"Don't be, you folks clearly did ya research on me." The Creole playboy shrugged his shoulders. "Ah'ma man who indulges in his vices quite often ." He regarded Bruce with the usual care-free nature he applied to everyone. "An' if you want me for a job, ah'ma need ta see de money first mon ami."
"I won't offer money to Jean-August." Bruce denied Jean-August's request confidently as the duo walked up to the young man and stood firmly in place. "But I can help Aleksander Freeman find the answers he's looking for." M'gann spoke with an absolute air of confidence similar to the former Batman. Jean-August's red eyes faded away to their usual gold, his features softened. And for the briefest moment he looked vulnerable.
"How do ya know of dat name?" The Creole boy's tone was somber and devoid of any of his usual bravado. M'gann smiled warmly at the teen and grabbed both of his hands, she squeezed them lightly. "We can tell you everything you want to know, but we need your help." M'gann spoke softly despite her gaze being as unwavering as Bruce's.
Jean-August offered a sly smirk while he arched a fine eyebrow, "What's yah price mon cheri, ah'ma man of many fortunes an' vast riches." Bruce reflected the smirk with one of his own, "Your service."
Taijen here!
Hey, first off I just want to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. I've been without a reliable source of Internet since this story was published. But the good news is that I found a very nice alternative to writing on a computer. I found out that I get pretty good work done on my phone. 80% of this chapter was written through the notes apps on my phone and then simply copy and pasted onto the site.
Congratulations to those whose characters were selected, but once again I shall elaborate on how exactly OCs will be utilized. I received about thirty-something submissions, out of those I chose to use seventeen. Characters who were not mentioned in the story I will dm the creators within 24 hours. And answer any questions about their place in this world I'm establishing.
On to the next point, the main cast of characters are the heroes "The Six", and thus most of the story shall revolve around them. Much like the show I plan on having a recurring gallery of villains (villain OCs and Canon) but much like in the show they aren't the main characters and will not be in every chapter. But I am a fair guy, if anyone feels like their character isn't getting enough screen time or the proper handling, please let me know. I will do my best to accommodate you.
Anyway I hope everyone liked the chapter, and I will likely have another chapter up by the end of this month.
Also I will provide links that give a good idea of what Connor, Dick, and Kaldur look like on my profile if it wasn't very clear or hard to imagine. (Update: If anyone knows how to post links to profiles please let me know). Until then search up these terms on Google to get a good idea of what they look like if you're having trouble with my descriptions. "Kaldur Flashpoint Paradox", "Superman Justice Lord YJ", "Dick Grayson Batman YJ".
Thank you and Peace to you!