Author's Note
Updates will happen when I have a chapter done and I actually have time to update. This means that updates can happen within hours, days, weeks, or months depending on my schedule. So, yeah, this is why this chapter is updated so soon.
Reviews:
lumigo akvo9504: First, thank you for all your reviews. They mean a lot to me. Second, I know the last chapter was brutal in intensity but I'm picking up the pace of the story. As you read, they only have so long to make sure the League doesn't die and this chapter is also far from rainbows and sunshine. Basically, chapters from here on out are more action, stressful, and downright crazy. Each of these characters are slowly losing it or, as you'll be reading soon in Caspar's case, missing for some reason that is important. So enjoy the new intense chapter. Third, I'm happy that the cliffhanger was awesome. Sometimes, writers don't do it correctly or it's just ... I don't know, overused. I hope I don't become a writer that overuses cliffhangers but sometimes, it can't be helped.
TEN
Worst Decision Made in all Dimensions by Caspar L. Braddock
December 8, 2016
17:00 CST
Abandoned Sector of New Orleans, Louisiana
Caspar was pulled forwards by his leader towards the machine once the air stopped shimmering. He felt the cold, tickling sensation as they became intangible, sinking into the asphalt and appearing in the main hub of the machine. Biting his lip and secretly cursing his inability to make a scanner for bombs and unknown chemical compounds, Caspar went to work on dismantling the machine, keeping a watchful eye on it.
"Weren't we supposed to have Nightwing?" Caspar asked as he removed a set of wires.
"Shit," Danielle answered, looking towards the top of the machine.
"Just contact Nevi to tell Nightwing you're sorry. It's pretty easy to understand considering we've been doing this with only four of us," Caspar said, pulling out a motherboard and tearing it apart, keeping his green eyes open for anything that could trigger a bomb or hear anything that could sound like something clicking into place or the steady release of something into the air that shouldn't be. It was the most unnerving thing Caspar had ever done when it came to dismantling a machine. And there was still more to go, especially to check to see if there was another one under the currently activated one.
"Nevi, inform Nightwing I'm sorry for forgetting him," Danielle said over the Fenton Phones as Caspar broke a delicate piece of hardware over his knee before pushing the discarded pieces to the side.
"Already did as soon as you two disappeared. He understood. Gotta go, though. These Dracanae are tough," Nevidebla responded at once before it was silent again. Caspar finished his project of destroying the machine without anything blowing up. Maybe it had something to do with it already being activated? Or they hadn't gotten to this one to set up bombs? Caspar shrugged it off and pushed the pieces that needed to be hidden to Danielle. With a flash of white light, his leader donned her ghostly form and took off with intangibility and invisibility aiding her. Sighing, Caspar began work on finding a way to the second engine—if there was one—without Danielle's help.
He didn't find one in the five minutes it took for Danielle to hide the pieces. She made them intangible and the two descended into the lower area of the New Orleans street. Nothing was there except for dirt and rock. Coming back up, the tingling feeling left Caspar as he pulled out his bow and arrows, notching one and quickly aiming at one of the Scythian Dracanae. It was disconcerting fighting them. Despite the snake tails for legs, Caspar could sometimes think of him actually shooting an innocent civilian instead of a monster. He wondered how Nevidebla did it or if she masked her horror until sleep overcame her. It would explain some of her nightmares.
Shaking off the thoughts, he let the arrow loose as it sailed and punctured the snake woman's head. She collapsed into a shower of dust. He pulled another arrow out and aimed again, nailing another monster in between the eyes, the glowing serpentine eyes widening before she, too, collapsed into dust. Then he was moving, running and leaping as he aimed, dodging attacks aimed at him because even if the weapons could supposedly pass harmlessly through him, he didn't want to be in striking distance for these monsters to scratch him or choke him with their leg-tails. He didn't know how many there were or how many he had taken out. Superboy and Wonder Girl were tag teaming as they fought. Nevidebla and Kid Flash had actually paired up after it was deemed no civilians were in the immediate area. Nightwing was fighting with Michi, and Danielle was flying overhead, raining down her green ecto-blasts.
And then, he was in an alley chasing after an escaping Scythian Dracanae. He didn't know when he split off from the group. Caspar barely registered if he was actually given an order to go after the monster or to come back to the main fight. All he did know was that this monster could cause too much damage if she was allowed to escape along with the fact Kid Flash really couldn't stop her without creating a tornado around her in such close courters. It would not only be dangerous for him with such a small space to run around in, but along with the idea of a building collapsing from the suction. Sure, one of his friends could have handled this, but Caspar had noticed first—he at least assumed he noticed first—so he ran after the monster.
He would have taken the shot a while ago if he wasn't down to his last arrow, didn't know if his new invention could help him out against these monsters, and the Scythian Dracanae wasn't slipperier than a snake when it came to being out of the range of an arrow. Growling low in his throat, Caspar rounded a corner, bow gripped firmly in his hands with the arrow already notched, his fingers ready to pull the bowstring back and take aim when an opportunity presented itself.
Five blocks from the original location for the fight, Caspar found his opening.
The bowstring stretched, his fingers drawn back to his cheek before he let go. A twang released into the air as the arrow created a hollow thunk as it met the back of the monster's head. Caspar relaxed and turned around to head back, except he really didn't know the way back to the fight. And he would have looked at his tablet if it wasn't so low on battery that it would more than likely die before he even registered where he actually was in New Orleans, yet alone where the fight was actually taking place. Sighing irritably, Caspar reached for his earpiece when he noticed something out of his peripheral vision. His hand lowered as his head turned and he moved closer.
When he reached what he saw, Caspar picked it up. It was the size of a phone with the thickness of one of those graphing calculators he saw Nevidebla using months ago for school when she had completed her studies for a mission. The base was black with red outlining the edges and glowing yellow controls on its face. Curious on how it worked, Caspar started to press buttons. Maybe it wasn't the smartest move, but he was curious. He'd never read anything about this in the packet Clockwork had given them and Nevidebla had never mentioned anything like this. He had to find out what it was. It was a moral imperative for all techies out there that he finds out what it did.
He was not expecting a glowing yellow portal to open up in front of him.
Now, smart and sensible people would back away or call for help. Caspar wasn't really either in situations like this. He knew he had been hanging out with Nevidebla too much if he was going to be this impulsive. But, come on, it was a portal! He was used to portals and the cold, twisting sensation of Clockwork's portals. This would be nothing. More than likely another walk in the park for him.
So he stepped into the portal after shoving the strange device into a pocket and felt like he was being stretched and shot at speeds that was slowly ripping his body apart. Pooling gold light filled his vision with flickers of white as he rolled over his own body numerous times. He didn't know what was up and what was down. His whole body momentarily became numb as he kept going and his lungs burned. It felt like infinity but he knew it probably only lasted seconds when he finally exited the contorting portal.
Caspar landed on his feet but his legs felt weak, knees collapsing as he landed heavily on the ground. The air smelled of burning fires and rotten eggs, oxygen was barely entering his lungs, and a cough was bubbling in his throat. One of his hands lifted to his mouth and nose to block the stench and cover his mouth as he hacked. His green eyes stayed focused on the ground. It was metallic and warm. Getting to his feet, Caspar could smell the underlying scent of burning materials beneath the overwhelming perfume of rotting eggs. Neither was pleasant but together ... Caspar wanted to hurl.
He looked around and noticed the high-rise buildings made of dark, gleaming metals with a hint of soot clinging to them. In the distance, he could make out burning fires rising as high—or higher—as the buildings. The streets were deserted, practically a ghost town.
Where was he?
His hand shook as he pressed against his Fenton Phone, only receiving static. That wasn't a good sign. it meant it was either damaged due to the portal or he was out of range of transmission. Or both. Either way, it also meant he was on his own. There was no way for him to contact his friends unless he did an Iris message, which he couldn't. He didn't have any water he was willing to sacrifice for that, yet alone a golden drachma. Basically, he truly was on his own wherever he was.
Caspar began to walk on his still unsteady legs. He pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose as he continued walking. The more he moved, the easier it was to get a little more oxygen into his body. His eyes moved around, scoping for any sign of danger that could come his way. Caspar deducted he was more than likely on a different planet, he just didn't know which one. He'd prefer one closer to Earth. It would be easier to find some form of technology and send a signal to the Justice League or Young Justice. But he had a feeling he was farther away than he would like to be. At least he knew this place had technology if the buildings were anything to go by.
It was just too industrialized for Caspar's taste.
Maybe he had been hanging out with Michi too much if he was starting to appreciate nature more than usual. He had always appreciated nature, found it interesting, relaxing, and anxiety-inducing all in one. But since the first time he had met Michi, he'd finally come to understand the great importance of nature, or natural living things. This planet had none as far as Caspar could see.
He kept walking on, eyes watching everything. Sometimes, there was a rush of heat as the burning infernos distances away grew higher and hotter until they were pillars of flaring white. Then they settled down into glowing streams of orange, yellow, and molten red. It was entrancing and completely terrifying. Caspar had seen plenty in his year of being one of Clockwork's apprentices, but this was taking the cake. Maybe it was because he was the only one here and couldn't run ideas off of a friend. Michi would be stoic enough with little words used Caspar would be able to run himself ragged with his own ideas until a solution made sense. Danielle would provide input along with a bird's eye view of the area with her flying capabilities. She knew how to talk in a way that also led Caspar to his theorized conclusions except faster than Michi. Nevidebla would at least know something about the planet and with their combined effort, would come to a very accurate conclusion. It wouldn't be theorized, but an actual conclusion due to Nevidebla learning everything about every dimension. Sometimes it paid for her to be able to memorize everything she read.
But without any of them, Caspar was stuck in his own thought and they were too crowded to sort through. It was one of his many faults. He couldn't separate his thoughts to form a clean and precise conclusion outside of tech without someone to bounce ideas off of. Maybe that was why he worked better in groups than on his own. Back in his own world, he'd been able to filter in and out of groups of homeless and poor like himself with ease. No one wanted his head and no one really wanted to kick him out forcefully. He gave them weapons and things to help them hack the security of stores. Caspar always found a way to make himself useful when he was in a group.
He barely functioned on his own when in unknown situations. Back in his world, he knew how it worked. This planet was a different matter entirely. He was positive oxygen was available here, but it was so little that Caspar believed it was like he was breathing from a high altitude. Hi stumbling steps lead him in vague directions since he didn't know where anything was. He didn't even know if their food was edible here. ... If there were any lifeforms on this planet. Another sweep with his eyes, Caspar highly doubted it.
His random directions led him to a massive gate and through the twisting high pillars, Caspar could make out a structure. It had its own mini infernos shooting up heat and metal workings. But the building beyond it all was huge and in the shape of a ... head? Caspar squinted his eyes against the blazing flames, black smoke, and sulfuric atmosphere and realized that, yes, it was a head-shaped building. Its face was turned into a fierce scowl with molten eyes and a headdress with an oblong piece in the center as molten as its eyes.
His stomach sunk at the realization.
He was on Apokolips, home of the New Gods, gods of anti-life, slavery, and degradation. Darkseid was their leader, their government was theocratic dictatorship, and the economy was a heavily militarized industry, civilians making a living off of scavenging and bartering. The demographics, for the most part, were unknown though it was theorized it was inhabited by a several million low cast natives and a small number of upper elites who were working for Darkseid. The armed forces are the Parademons, humans who were chosen from the general population to be genetically enhanced to be unbeatable and fanatically loyal. The Female Furies, who were chosen from the Parademons, were personally trained by Darkseid's Elite. And there were only four places truly worth mentioning on the planet: Darkseid's palace, Armagetto district (basically the slums), Granny Goodness' Orphanage, and the Fire Pits.
Hanging out with Nevidebla when she was in her rants about Apokoliptans and what they've done had its perks.
But it wasn't going to help him here.
How was any of that information supposed to help him if he didn't know how he got here? Sure, he could find those places. Hanging out in the slums actually sounded better than standing like an idiot outside of the gated palace of Darkseid. But Caspar stayed rooted as he tried to remember how his recent stupid decisions got him here. He knew it had to be from that box he was messing with beforehand. The gadget with the glowing buttons. He knew it was his ticket out of here. The only problem with that plan was that he didn't really know how to work it. Caspar had pressed random buttons and prayed for the best. If he had pressed the wrong sequence or a different button somewhere in there, he'd more than likely be on a planet with crushing gravity and no oxygen. Caspar would be dead faster than he was at the moment.
He didn't know which was the kinder fate.
Movement on his right side had Caspar snapping his head that way. His eyes widened at what he saw. Four Female Furies were heading his way, weapons out.
The first was a woman wearing a dark jumpsuit with metal bands wrapping around her arms, legs, torso, over her breasts, and three straps covering her face to protect her forehead, nose, and chin. Her long, dark green hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. Crackling whips of electricity were held in her hands, making Caspar want to gulp. He knew Nevidebla would be able to name her fight off the bat along with all her weaknesses. Caspar only knew she was a Female Fury.
The next was a woman dressed in green garb that reminded Caspar of the Middle Ages with shot black hair and an ape-shaped face with how elongated it was with too sharp cheekbones. She wielded a knife that looked too wicked to just be ordinary. Her face was contorted into a scowl directed towards Caspar as if she couldn't wait to use him as misplaced aggression. It gave him plenty to pause about.
Following her was a huge—and Caspar meant huge—woman. She towered over the others at a good seven feet dressed in a red outfit with light orange accents, gloves, and boots. Her orange cape billowed behind her as she lumbered after the others in graceful lops. Caspar could tell she moved rather quickly for someone of her mass with how easily she kept up and didn't seem to land on her feet too hard.
The last was a woman with wild green hair and yellowish-skin. She wore green boots, a green skirt, and a silver chest piece with silver wrappings on her hands ascending to her elbows. Her face was contorted into berserker glee as she wiggled her claw-ended fingers towards Caspar as they kept approaching.
He actually did something sensible when he saw them: he ran.
Caspar moved as fast as he could, taking in big gulps of air to make up for his oxygen intake but the sulfuric air made him want to gag and cough until he lost a lung in the process. But he kept moving, activating his gloves as he went. He wasn't going down without a fight and after this, he was finding the Armagetto district.
If he survived.
He fiddled with his gloves when the ground shook, launching him into the air, disorienting himself as he tried to figure out which way was up and down again. He met the metal-pavement-like street with a thud on his side, facing his oncoming attackers. The first woman let one of her crackling whips sing through the air at Caspar, who rolled out of the way and back to his feet. Then the woman dressed in green rushed forwards, knife out and Caspar had the immediate instinct he really shouldn't be hit by the blade. He dodged as she tried to stab him, taking steps back and keeping an eye on the others who seemed to be circling them, waiting for him to mess up. Caspar gulped and stumbled over a slightly raised piece of street. His eyes widened at his own mistake as the knife went straight for his heart …
Only for the blade to shatter.
Caspar was as shocked as the other four who momentarily stood frozen. Then he remembered: the Nemean Lion. He was wearing its pelt. An impenetrable pelt that at the moment was his saving grace. Recovering from his shock faster, Caspar punched the woman in the face in front of him, making sure he concentrated on the spots Michi had told him about. Uppercut to the jaw, elbow to the sternum, punch to the nose, and a series of points on the back to immobilize. As soon as he was back on Earth, he was thanking Michi for all the lessons.
Caspar taking down the woman in green seemed to snap the others out of it as the green-haired woman screeched and launched at him. Gulping at the berserk woman, Caspar used his arms to keep blocking her approach as the other three tried to disrupt his balance with another shake of the ground or make him lose his concentration with the sparking electrical whips. Caspar really couldn't concentrate on them, only on the woman who was trying to maul him with her claws. Her face was scary with its weird shape and contorted maniac frenzy. She'd haunt his nightmares for months—maybe years—to come. The worst thing was that she was smart while being in a berserk state. She avoided clawing his torso and arms, seeming to go for his unprotected face and lower legs, making Caspar freak out at the strange fighting technique. He didn't know how to respond and if he ever could come up with a way to, he knew it would be too late.
The woman scratched his calf, digging her claws in deep and twisting. Caspar collapsed to his uninjured knee, screaming so loudly his throat was growing hoarse. Blinking back the darkness, Caspar charged his gloved hand and socked the woman in the eye. It was weak and clumsy and wouldn't have affected her in the least bit if not for the electricity crackling from his own glove. She stumbled back, ripping her hand out of his calf as warm blood started to soak his pant leg. Panting through the pain, Caspar watched the other three. The bigger one was carrying the one he had taken down, the whip woman was moving to stand in front of him, and the berserk woman had backed off, crawling back on her four limbs.
"Who are you?" the woman with the strange metal armored demanded.
"Ca-Caspar Brad-d-dock," Caspar stuttered out from the pain he was feeling in his leg.
"Where are you from?" the woman asked and Caspar wanted to laugh, but her voice was too serious. He knew if he did start laughing, her electrical whips would come down and electrocute him until he died.
"Earth," Caspar breathed out, happy it was one syllable. They were easier to say.
"How did you get here?" the woman sneered. Caspar blinked as his hand began to fumble with his pocket and he removed the device. It was best to just go along with everything and limit his pain or any more injuries he could get.
"With thi-is," Caspar answered, gritting his teeth when he moved and caused more pain to flare in his leg. He was useless at the moment and he was all he had. There was no going around it, Caspar would have to answer everything truthfully and pray for mercy. Which he knew was very unlikely if the stories Nevidebla had told him were anything to go by.
"How did you obtain a Father Box?" the woman demanded, taking a step forward and sweeping one of her whips closer. Caspar reeled backwards out of fear, forgetting about his injury and unleashing a cry of pain when he moved too fast in the wrong way.
"I found it on the street about five blocks away from the activated machine in New Orleans," Caspar said, more than likely giving out more than he should have. But he was scared and in pain. Without any of his friends nearby, Caspar could rattle on and on about everything they've been doing. If they were with him—at least one of them—he could keep his trap shut and sealed. But no one was with him. He was on his own and that was bad. Really, really bad.
"Mad Harriet, help me escort him to Darkseid. Stompa, take Bernadeth to the medics and find out what he did to her," the woman ordered. The big woman, Stompa, carried the still immobilized woman, who had to be Bernadeth, one way while the first woman and Mad Harriet approached Caspar who tried to back away from them with little success. He was in too much pain to really do anything. It literally felt like Mad Harriet had ripped some of his flesh off his bone and when he looked over at the berserk woman, she was grinning widely, actually holding bloody muscle in her hand. Caspar was going to puke.
The first woman grabbed a fistful of his red hair when he had been grossly captivated by what Mad Harriet was holding. With a strong and painful tug, she literally began to drag him through the gates and towards Darkseid's palace. Caspar scrambled for purchase with a useless leg to reduce the pain his scalp was in. But nothing worked as his working leg kept losing its grip and his hands clamped on the woman's arm weren't really helping him lift himself up to relieve the pressure. He was tempted to shock this woman but second guessed it being a great idea when both women could easily tear him apart once they realized all they had to do was remove his Nemean Lion jacket.
None of them spoke, but Caspar did make noise. His still bleeding leg jostling painfully and the constant pressure on his scalp were overbearing. He was not made for pain like this. His body could stand the pangs of hunger and dehydration for the most part, but never the actual physical pains his friends could. He was made more for survival off of very little, not the rough and tumble fights his friends engaged in. It was why he was the archer. He didn't have to get in too close, didn't have to receive punches and kicks, and didn't have to try and deliver them. Just a bow and a quiver full of arrows was all he needed in a fight.
Caspar felt like he was the weak link. In this situation, Michi and Danielle would have dominated easily. This world was made of metal and something similar to rock underneath that Michi would have bended it all. And he could stand pain. Caspar had seen his scars and knew what Mad Harriet had done to him would have been child's play to Michi. Danielle had her ghostly powers and accelerated healing. She might have still cried out and been momentarily immobilized by part of her leg being torn out, but after a bit she'd have gotten back to her feet and would have continued fighting. She had long range and short range attacks that she could fight all four of the Female Furies with and win. Nevidebla, on the other hand, would have been a tossup in this situation. Caspar reasoned that if Nevidebla's weapons affected them, they didn't stand a chance. And even then, if they didn't, all Nevidebla really needed to do was disarm them or take one of their weapons and use it against the others. She had knowledge of what they carried, probably how they fight, and who their leader was (Caspar had a feeling it was the woman dragging him). Nevidebla was dangerous when she had knowledge. A clever, swift mind combined with a stream of knowledge was a horrible combination, especially one who had as much battle prowess as Nevidebla.
Caspar had none of that.
He couldn't bend; he didn't have ghostly abilities or even a ghost half; he wasn't a demigod: he was human. A full, flesh-and-blood human being with no special skills other than technology wise. He was not made for upfront fights, though he was handling Nightwing rather well. But that had taken a year of training and even then, Caspar knew he wasn't going to win, even before Nightwing started to take out his escrima sticks. Caspar was tech support and the archer. He was nothing else.
And if he was nothing else, what would Darkseid do to him then?
He had made it somewhat clear he was associated with Young Justice somewhat with what he had said. He knew of the platforms and he had gotten here with a lost Father Box—that was what the woman still dragging him had called it, right? But other than that, he held no real value. Danielle have been with him enough that she could tear those platforms apart and with the help of a hero, she'd be fine. Michi and Nevidebla would continue their fighting like they were meant to.
But ... Caspar knew they fell apart when it was only three of them. Two seemed reasonable for each group when they split up. It didn't matter the combination, as long as there was another right beside them, they were fine. But when a group increased to three people, Caspar knew they panicked about the missing member. It happened in Dimension 5 when they had lost Michi. The group had practically crumbled at the seams. And Caspar remembered he had kept Nevidebla and Danielle in reasonable sanity during that time.
He wasn't there. He was the one missing now and he wondered how well Michi would do to keep them all in line. Or if he was even capable of doing such a thing. It was then Caspar came to another conclusion of his part in the team as they kept nearing Darkseid's palace: he was the glue. It was kind of funny. The guy with no special abilities was the glue that kept the others together. But he was always filtering between getting to know each one. He was closest with Michi, then Nevidebla (though that friendship had taken awhile), and finally Danielle.
Worry settled into Caspar's bones as he thought of what his friends were doing now.
None of them were rainbows, sunshine, and dancing kittens.
Caspar was jarred out of his thoughts when he was flung to the ground. He looked around, realizing they had somehow gotten into Darkseid's palace and entered his throne room. Caspar had been worrying too much about his friends he forgot about his own problems and the fact he should have been paying attention to his surroundings. Now he didn't know the way out of the palace or even where the throne room was in correlation to any windows so he could at least see how high up he was from the ground.
"Lashina, what is going on?" a deep voice spoke. Caspar looked over at the cracked-skinned man sitting on a throne, angry red eyes glaring down at Caspar. Another man with cracked skin and overgrown flesh connecting his face to his throat in a spiderweb-like way stood to his left and to his right was a huge man with three scars slashing across his face. There was only one thing to do in a situation like this: gulp and pray.
"We found this alien standing outside of your gates. Originally, we were going to kill him, but he said something interesting," the woman who once had a grip on his scalp said. At least Caspar learned her name was Lashina.
"And what was that?" Darkseid practically growled through his scowling face, eyes still concentrated on Caspar's pitiful form.
"He had seemed to obtain a Father Box on his home planet, Earth," Lashina answered and if Caspar wasn't mistaken, there was a sense of smugness in her voice. He flicked his green eyes towards this Female Fury to see her eyes were centered on the man with the odd flesh growth on his face. Caspar felt like he was now some pawn for politics. Again.
"How was he able to use it?" Darkseid asked, or more like ordered.
"I was not able to ask him that," Lashina stated before placing her foot on Caspar's ribs and pressed down. "Why don't you answer for us?"
Her foot was removed but hovered where he lay. He had a feeling no matter what he said, she would make sure her foot met his ribs again.
"I pressed random buttons," Caspar answered honestly, bracing for the inevitable foot that crashed against his ribs. He coughed at the pain lancing his side.
"How did you use the Father Box?" Lashina growled, leaning down so some of her dark green hair tickled Caspar's cheek. He sneered at her.
"I picked the damn thing up, got curious, and put in a random sequence of buttons. One moment, I'm on the streets of New Orleans, next I'm on this fucking planet with fuckwads," Caspar snapped, knowing he was now really asking for it. Lashina turned her gaze to Darkseid who nodded, face steely, cold, and scowling. She lifted her foot again and Caspar could see that it would have more force behind it, enough to break a rib or two. And he decided if he was more than likely going to die now, he might as well fight back. It didn't matter if he was good or not, anything was better than just dying a pathetic mess. When the foot made contact with him, Caspar sucked in a breath at the pain and swung an arm out, activating the wave of blue electricity. It arced and surged around the metal interior of the room. It seemed to ignore Caspar, who was low on the ground, and settled for Mad Harriet and Lashina who were closest to him.
Both screamed as Caspar shoved Lashina's foot off of him. He scrambled away from them on his hands and working leg, his other one leaving behind a trail of blood. With his pathetic crawling and position, Caspar was able to activate his boot of his working leg. And just in time as Mad Harriet leapt at him with her claws, going for his face as she pinned him down. Caspar squirmed, shrimped, and blocked as best he could until his working leg was positioned between Mad Harriet and himself. He sent a bolt of electricity into her when his boot was placed on her stomach, eliciting in another scream from the mad woman. Caspar snatched one of her arms and lifted his useful leg to wrap around her head, then he twisted with all his might. Mad Harriet fell onto her back and Caspar took her arm and snapped it at an angle with his arms and the leverage provided to him by his leg. The berserk woman screamed and tried to move, making Caspar give her another shock of electricity.
He would have done more if Lashina hadn't dragged him off Mad Harriet and electrocuted himself with her whips, leaving a long, red mark down the front of his body where the Nemean Lion jacket had opened sometime in the struggle. Caspar pressed a hand to the wound as he tried not to faint from the pain. How in the hell did Michi do this? Caspar wanted to know. Danielle had a high pain tolerance due to her ghostly form and Nevidebla could make anything recede with enough adrenaline coursing through her body. But Michi still had all his pain receptors and couldn't really block things out with adrenaline. Caspar reasoned it was his father that made Michi as tolerable as he was or to keep fighting or not show his weakness as strongly as Caspar was.
"Is there any other information you gathered from him, Lashina?" Darkseid ordered as Caspar stayed on the ground, trying and utterly failing to make the pain go away. Was someone ringing an annoying alarm? They should really stop. It was irritating Caspar to no end.
"He said he knows of the machines you have been setting up on Earth," Lashina answered.
"You are a part of the other group interfering with my plans?" Darkseid snarled at Caspar who weakly nodded. "What do you personally do in your group?"
"Tear ... machines ... apart," Caspar gasped, deciding he didn't want to be whipped or electrocuted again anytime soon. As long as he didn't mention names or was stubborn enough to create fake ones and make them believable, he was good. Hopefully.
"Darkseid, may I suggest something that would be best for us," the man with the flesh growth asked, causing the glowing red scowl to focus on him. He barely even flinched. "If I could use him as a test subject, I can hopefully create the machines so advanced not even the heroes would be able to disable them. And even then, I could figure out the best place to put bombs in afterwards for a farther safety measure."
Caspar could see Darkseid contemplating two trains of thought. He was scared to know the second one, but he had a good suspicion on what it was.
"Savage, what do you believe would be the best course of action?" Darkseid asked, turning to the man who looked more human, and yet not, out of all of them. Caspar didn't even try to stare at him imploringly. It would be pointless. Even he could tell he was a heartless man who more than likely wouldn't mind gutting him.
"Killing him would be best. He could not try to escape or return back to Earth to inform them of what we are doing," savage said, tilting his head to the side, his mouth turned downwards and his eyes lighting with calculated fury. Caspar hated that look. "But Desaad made a logical point of the help he could be in taking these machines to the next step. It's obvious he's smart enough if he found a way to turn a Father Box on without instructions beforehand, even if it was mere guessing. The only problem I can see of him is that he's willing to fight back if the display before wasn't enough. But he should be weak enough to break."
Caspar would rather be killed at the moment. It sounded so much better than helping madmen design machines that would wipe out a whole planet with an invasion of monsters along with said madmen trying to break him into some slave. Caspar wasn't a slave and he never would be. If there was one thing he could fight for without anyone beside him, it was for his own freedom. It was dear to him, something he recalled his whole family wanting. They wanted to escape the clogging oppression of overwork and underpaid labor they did. Even when he was homeless and on the streets by himself, he was more free than he had ever been. Something about no responsibilities like what his family went through made any fellow feel free, despite not having a cent to their name.
It was going to be a long and painful road ahead of him but he steeled himself. Caspar alone had gotten himself into this so he alone would get himself out of here. Or he could cause a revolt. That sounded better, actually. If he could escape Darkseid's palace and make it to Armagetto, there was a chance he could team up with those oppressed and overthrow the tyrannical rule of Darkseid and his Elite.
Caspar wanted to scoff at the notion of him leading a revolt but thought better of it.
"Thank you for your advice gentlemen, and I must agree, he does prove more useful alive. Lashina, Mad Harriet, take him to the cells and remove his bag along with his gloves and shoes from his person. Dismissed," Darkseid ordered. Caspar was dragged out again by his hair and he decided he was going to leave that throne room a cursing mess. He wasn't one for cursing too much, but the situation called for all his knowledge on those words to spill forth. He even went as far as to start saying the curses Nevidebla had taught him in both Greek and Latin. It was interesting to see some of their faces when they discerned whatever he was saying. Lashina was the best, her face becoming angrier as she continued to drag him away. Caspar would have to ask what Nevidebla had been saying in those languages just to know what would cause such women to become furious.
Too soon, they had reached the cells. His bag, gloves, and boots were roughly pulled off him before he was shoved in. The door closed behind him, leaving Caspar for himself. Sighing, Caspar removed his jackets to get to his shirt. Once removing the black garment, he wrapped it around his bleeding leg as tightly as he could and pray that he didn't get an infection. Once that was done, he put his jackets back on and looked around the cell. There was a toilet, a sink, and slab of rock for him to sleep on with a flat pillow to rest his head on. Rubbing his eyes, Caspar crawled over to the bed. He wasn't going to pass up a chance to sleep after the last few days. Besides, what Caspar could gather, he was going to need every second to sleep if he was going to get back to Earth and to his friends to stop this interdimensional mess that Darkseid and his goons were too stupid to realize they had created.
Author's Note
I looked up anything pertaining to Apokolips and I am sorry if I messed something up. If I did and you tell me, do not expect it to change. At the moment, this took forever to look up so I could get some of this correct. I do not feel like going over this chapter to change it to be more accurate. This is a fanfiction site, I can literally twist facts to fit my ideas.
If you have a suggestion on a character from Apokolips you want to appear, inform me and I'll see what I can do, but I don't really guarantee anything.
Question: what do you think Caspar's middle name is?