Nightwing #7
Volume 1. Story 6.
The Warlock in the Stone (Part 1)


Today, the clear skies, the beautiful baby blue, would have been viewable in its most pristine form had it not been for the hazard pace of two fast flying individuals crossing through it with strong arm punches aimed at gut, head or any part of the body left exposed to the might of the fist. It was a flurry of red mixed in with a pallet of deep seeded blue that contrasted the sky, twisted together like a hurricane that was splattering backwards at a near straight angle as though a paint brush had fallen upon the frontal massive glob and scraped it out as thin as possible creating a lingering tail of light. The only time this bundle of beings broke character was when one of those furious punches was delivered to its target resulting in an outward sway of one body under a thin shard of sparking white energy, the exposed body parts being more than a match for the punches laid upon them. The two of them were locked in a battle that was quickly closing in on the City's ground floor, their hits upon one another causing some adverse side effects upon the surrounding infrastructure; strong, but not yet powerful to snap free the thick glass panels embedded in the wiry steel geometric frame.

The descent was quick but flowing down on an angle that maximized movement along the broadsides of the wide reaching street line, using the narrowing image of the contrasting grey sidewalks to the black tar of the road as a narrowing trajectory line, a runway waiting for the landing. As such, there was time that could be allotted to distinguishing the figures from one another. The more overtly red figure was quite a bit taller than the other, older if not more mature; she was a strong muscular woman who had clearly taken command of the tussle, placing the smaller girl underneath her on descent, shaping her hands around the younger girl's wrists to prevent a reprisal attack. With her body pinned the way it was, back facing the ground, all the young girl could seem to do at this moment was hope that the collision of her body against the hard cold cement was not as painful as it appeared.

It wasn't long till the civilians dotting the encompassing street crunching sidewalks noticed the approaching free fallers as they clouded the rays of the bright sun with a dark cascading image of their collective form, a shadow that only grew in strength and reach the faster they approached. Persons in luxurious well-furnished business suits, ties within collars, and high end business suits let the sweat pound out from the pores of their skin as a terrifying fear placed their thoughts more towards the preservation of their lives overtop of their articles of clothing; the people swiftly set out to assure a personal vanishing act, smartly propelling themselves in the opposite direction of the beings' flight path. On this continuing plan, the strip of road was quickly reaching its abrupt end by way of a straight edge, the flat fronted near metre high concrete barrier along the edge of the sidewalk having signified the necessity of the road's drivers to either make good on a turn to either side to avoid a straight on collision. They hastily made do with their turns and headed off into new realms of traffic though the inner lanes were somewhat congested when the drivers could not help but slow down and pause to see the people diving to the ground above as they mentally plotted out the course for the final impact, that of currently being at the centre of the 'T' shaped intersection; unable to back track against the oncoming storm of vehicles, it was time to abandon what little comfort they had within them and take to a foot race away from the potential of disaster.

The marvellous sky scrapping buildings with their furnished metals and embed glass planes were noticeably absent from this area of town, opting for a more traditional approach with the taller buildings of the bunch being no more than six stories high, an adequate height for the usual office and living purposes considering the exceptionally long lengths these buildings were given, taking up nearly whole blocks to themselves. Further distinguishing were the materials used, opting more so for a more delicate ivory white smoothed sandstone brick that were moulded into one another to make a perfectly sharpened structure with a flowing outcrop of swirling designs around balcony heads and hanging baskets just outside of near door sized windows; it was a little bit of a Greco-Roman influence within the bustle of the modern crowd, though the grey pebble marsh that filled out the box atop most of these buildings was more or less an abstraction to the interested mind, especially for one flying above who would no doubt be observing only that such feature. There was however one exception to the whole arrangement of buildings. Across the street from a well composed townhouse section with their tile stone steps and coloured doors and entrance ways was a metal fence painted in a bright blue hue, generally consisting of wiry thin lines melted against one another to create small squares; needless to say the view of the other side was quite accessible. The dirt in this long patch was quite dry, fleshed out to a light tone of brown that tapped upon a sand like composition; it was worn out to say the least but for good reason, it was a construction site that was being prepared to support one of them monolithic beings of steel, plastic and glass. Already the frame had been established with the crucial corner beams having long been enfranchised in the necessary cement blockers that composed the spacious basement floor of the building's rectangular shape along with several other similar metallic beams being evenly spaced from one another in between. At twelve stories high, it was certain to stand out among the small child like blocks that the surrounding buildings were certain to become; signifying each floor were sets of horizontally laid beams, smaller cut pieces that wedged into the sides of the vertical rise of the support beams. All away around they went the full perimeter of the building, with some even intertwining in towards the centre where other support beams had arisen from the cold basement. The displacing height over all others and the crisp corners that the beams forged made for an exceptional place to sit and look out to the wonders of the endless sky or to perhaps fall asleep undisturbed as was the case for one such creature of the night whom had fitted himself quite comfortably against the corner post most outwardly close to the intersection below, legs straightened out along the flat side of the beam he sat upon.

The sleeping Nightwing was decked head to toe in an sleek firm black fabric though this exterior was quite rightfully a lie for what lay beneath it was a padded layer which was laced with a variety of gears and chips that lit up in a delicate neon blue whenever it came in to contact with Batman based technology, a connection that often arose from being beaten up forcing a mandatory repair, an all too common occurrence in his life as a superhero. Like Batman, along the side of his ears and aiming up were proper points about an inch up on the side ledges of his scalps, but unlike the straight lines that graced the Dark Knight's heads, his bent back ever so slightly to the natural pointed end facing backwards. His outward appearance was not entirely engulfed in the slimming black as he opted to wear more fitting equipment to his role; around his forearms were silvery shined gauntlets of sorts which were rather bulky on the outside as its formed compartment contained his escrima styled sticks, the gloves by extension were of a lighter grey and quite bulky around his small fingers. His boots likewise carried on the distilled greying shade however they were much more loos fitting, taking a round formation around his toes while leaving the bulk of his shins exposed on account of the boot's upper fabric being unwisely large in their embedded hoop ring like fashion, falling flatly along to the sides of his feet on many occasions of his fighting techniques. Of what was most important to him was the blue falcon that embraced his chest, the long wings flowing down from his armpits at straight diagonal lines with their geometric styled wings trailing in below; a bottom diamond shaped tail and narrowing neck to create a dual beak leading off to one side of his chest filled out the rest of the iconic image, at least iconic in so far as he considered it to be. Despite the excessive height of his family members, he himself was moderately small.

The tips of Nightwing's feet began to waver, nodding off a little from side to side; a strong breeze was coming his direction and it was quickly becoming evident that his body just wasn't heavy enough to hold its own. Soon his legs were buckling and his chest felt a tad bit too compressed against the firm beam his back laid against. The support of his neck soon began to falter and wonderment soon filled his eyes, the white beams of light eschewing through the black of his cowl, finally awake. "I am a man," he muttered lowly to himself as a weak fist flew outward. Following a heavy swallow, he grunted as he came to recognize the oncoming figures, rather the figures that had just flown by him, forcing him to collide backwards against the pole as he became entrenched in the wake of swirling winds. A hand soon clasped the side of his head and help throttle himself up straight as stood upright, "sickness or in health, death? can't see a thing, fuzzy…" the patterns of black and white static patterned themselves in his eyes as he awkwardly placed his free hand against the supporting corner beam. His small little head with the flexing ears peered inward of the road, aiming lowly to the ground, "that doesn't look good."

The smaller girl underneath with the heavy blue top had finally managed to pull one her hands free from the vice grip of her tormentor, enabling her to pull back past her shoulder while her digits formatted themselves to the attaching palm. With a well-structured swipe, the battering fist hit the side of the dark haired woman's head causing her position of empowerment to collapse just enough so that the aim of the descent was changed albeit only with only a slight movement forward from the centre of the intersection. Beyond the wide sidewalk, overtop of the arrow tipped rail lines of the fence and ahead of the flat metre wide grass plane, straight into the flat back of what could have a been the centre piece of this classically designed region. It was the widest of buildings as well as the smallest in stature reaching no more than two stories high. While the front had a multitude of curvatures outward and a myriad of flag poles aimed out to the sky on an angle, the back was rather plain and simplistic, white with barely any definition or character to its build save for a few cornering indentations that created box like outcrops, most notably the longest of one being at the centre of the building's backside where the collision was to be taking place.

The solid outer stones of the wall crumbled nearly instantly upon the impressive snapping of the two figures through it. The molten explosion of compounding rock blistered into pieces from sizes in excess of a robust car tire and ranging downward to no larger than a thumb, the smaller ones of which often flowing away along the grassy plane and occasional tossing shards at the gate with a multitude of dings while the more muscular chunks dropped to the ground like dead weights leaving their impression in the soft soil. Damage however was not completely contained to a single wall for the collision continued onward to the immediate floor within the building, this time slamming up against the pearl flavoured linoleum layered and shattering it, leading into the plastic piping and wiring innards that ran through this structure before finally hitting upon the solid ground that met the earth where no more movements downward could be made. A trail of steam and electrical light shows were left in their wake but the full extent of the damage had yet to be concluded.

The room they had entered was an arena sized in an orientation, fitting the full breadth of the building and then some; it was like an underground shelter dedicated to the protection of found and researched artefacts that had either been disenfranchised from the display above or were waiting for that moment to be granted a day in the light. Unlike what must have been a glorious showing of the golden plated walls with the mixing features of the floor in the museum rooms above, the archives below were rather the standard bleakness to be expected being no more than a coarse grained grey; the fluorescent panels of light above, suspended there by the extension of metal chains wrapping around electrical cords, did little to sway the generated opinion.

The dark auburn haired, red clad woman was the first to stand up from the rubble, taking on a pose of victory over the fallen body of her combatant. The impact crater their little smash up produced was quite sizable, the black lined cracks through the solid rock floor being a good thirty feet outward from the central core where she stood. The pulled up chunks of rock around her had been reduced to jagged stepping stones, slipping into one another now as her rise from knee to foot caused some jittery reactions. She wore quite the form fitting red suit that engulfed the entirety of her torso and stretched down along her legs and throughout her arm reach where the final cut off appendages were graced with white pieces, boots and gloves, with sizable cuff pieces that rose about an inch past the ankles and wrists respectively; it was a very fine fabric, silky to the touch yet so remarkably strong looking in its definition. Her eyes were a remarkable blue modelled after a solid facial structure, but of the most admirable features of her persons was what had taken up the curvature of her neck line and aimed downwards to her waistline, a solid gold bolt, a lightning rod with a width of about a foot across her chest while zigzagging downward twice before capping off to a long firm point; she was Miss Marvel.

From her position, Miss Marvel was confronted with numerous rows of large monolithic like objects about three feet in width with a broadside of about the size of an average train cart though reaching double its stacking size in height. There were three sets of these structure's broadsides facing against her, spaced out from each other's ending smaller sides a good distance to allow a walkway in between; however, it was quickly noted that there was not just one of them alone at the apparent front for there were others of its kind right behind it no more than an inch away with others soon behind it in a likewise pattern, crawling all back to the opposing wall at the other end of the basement. The sides were solid in their green fixture though the careful eye recognized them as containers and shelves that held behind the encasings the rarest of items. A sizable track line embedded within the floor affirmed the belief that these structures were moved to create hall space in between so that items could be extracted with ease though it was of proper note that no such attempts had been recognizable made and as such the rows appeared rather tightly bound to one another. To either side of her was box like outcrops moulding outwards at crisp angles from the walls, scrapping out from the corners of this basement floor and shaving off in a straight line about two thirds up, a spacious opening exiting between its roofing and hitting the first floor of the museum. The sides of these small rooms had an apparent front, facing one another with her in between; a circular metallic plate sat within a small indentation into these front walls, sitting just off from the centre towards the main wall so that a set of black lined flat panels could be lined along the inner side. She was no safe cracker but she nonetheless drew her attention closely to a small circular slot in between the jumble of panels at just about stomach height. It was an opening large enough to fit a hand through, something she knew she had to do if she was to get through the heavy door; however a tightly bound crunching of a hand had grasped her lower leg just under the thick cuffs of her boots while she was in mid walking motion towards the cumbersome safe door.

With a furious crunching of her facial muscles, Miss Marvel looked down at the much younger girl as she shook free her tired muscles from the impressive dent they created together to reach out and grab her out of desperation with a tiny grunt and clenched teeth. Miss Marvel however was not willing to deal with this steadfast defiance any further and thus hurriedly pressured her knee upward with a quick jerk that propped the girl up onto her own feet, both hands now coming to clench down harder around the lower region of the shin. They stared into one another's eyes, both filled with an unquenchable rage but one of them nonetheless holding back a well-established fear; the sole of Miss Marvel's boot solidly positioned itself within the centre of the young girl's chest, dragging the poor girl's arms with it accordingly, before pulling out the stops in an all-out extension of her leg's ligaments. The blue topped girl's grip lost its holding as the speed and force of the kick proved too much for her to handle; the force first dragged her feet along the ground but the traction was soon lost and before she knew it, her backside was up against one of the green tinted shelves, colliding into it with a shine of displaced metal shards and continuing onward with a toppling motion like large sized dominoes being tipped over. She let out some grunts and squeals as the hits kept coming and coming while the shelves, unable to break around the movement of her body, faltered downward on top of one another, ripping free of the track line. Miss Marvel hastily jumped back to her mission, looking away instantly and aiming back towards the circular slot that awaited her mighty fist.

"Whoa," Nightwing leaped down the whole, legs bent at the knees and hands ready to approach a crouching position once he met the remnants of the shatter floor. "As if there wasn't enough damage already," he complained as he saw the extent of the tussle as blowing through the lined up containers albeit coming to an end just under halfway down, the impact of the kick having long since lost the initial power. A sound of twisting gears and clamping metal pieces caught his left ear which instantly caused a shift in his focus towards the outcropping safe room where he saw Miss Marvel quite clearly attempting a break in, smashing her hand into the opening slot and twisting the locking mechanism therein without first taking in account for the codes to open it; as such the revolting noises her force filled pull caused were quite excruciating, heavy metal snapping and turning accordingly to her forceful pushes and pulls. "What's going on here?" Nightwing curved his elbows upwards and shook his fists towards Miss Marvel's backside. Following the finishing chime of a rather large ding, the red clad woman retracted her arm from the hole, successful in her attempted to pull free the tubular bolts that kept the circular plate embedded in the wall. While Miss Marvel nimbly made her way through the door, Nightwing had come across a startling image in the far off wreckage of the collapsed containers, a rather sore looking blue clad girl just lying in an impression that her body formed at the final rung of the long row of connected shelves. "Lara?" Nightwing let out a soft hearing question name as he tossed out his left hand towards Miss Marvel as if to say he was throwing her off for the mean time as he darted towards the centre row of shelf units, poised to use of his boot boosters and gliding wings to reach her. "Supergirl?" he called out with the girl's more recognized name as the propulsion of the booster lifted him a few feet upwards of the damage in a small wisps of swirling smoke, followed by a low level decent to the crushed girl whom had legs and arms quite spread out from the deep hole her torso had made. He fell to his knees, hands nearly ready to pander to the pain that she looked like she was in.

Supergirl had quite the striking image, she was quite young like Nightwing but made up for her age and subsequent lack of experience with an impressive physical form unmatched by her peers; not that she needed to work much upon it on account of her array of superpowers. Her top was a strong blue, a tightening fabric that gripped to every facet of her upper body before flaring out from her waist, divided at the sides by a simple cut that treaded upwards to the centre of her torso just below her upper chest thus creating a set of flaps, one at her front and another gracing her backside. Underneath the top, as evident through the cracks along her sides, was a skin tight red single piece suit that slipped all the way down to her toes in tight box like ends. She was a proud member of her shared parentage but had opted in her youth to follow that path that her father had made, wearing boldly at the centre of her chest the iconic Superman logo, the giant red 'S' embedded within a black base outlined by a golden trim; it had its differences, but the meaning was still the same. Her face was inhuman, not on account of its shape, which was truly beautiful by any scale or standard, but rather for her shock of light blue hair that was tied up closely in a red soft ring at the back of her skull that left the curls free and fluttering just a bit past her shoulders. Following in line with this were her eyebrows which held this hue, further complimented by the luscious shape of her blue tinted lips and wide ocean blue eyes, the same kind of irises that Nightwing possessed as his civilian identity; that connection of vision between the two was enough, they knew one another with nothing more than a passing glance.

"Get away from me," Supergirl's snappy voice echoed in Nightwing's head. She sneered at him with a disgruntled stare all while slapping her arms against the encroaching bent metal, using her strength to prop herself back up on to her feet. She allotted time to a heavy swallow of the excess juices in her mouth and shook her shoulders as her footing regained sufficient stepping. She was all prepared to storm off back into the battle which clenched teeth and strong fists but a sudden tag around her wrist snapped her back into the reality that was Nightwing.

"Are you crazy?" Nightwing's hand quickly pulled up along Supergirl's arm for a better grip and let his body fall back as best he could knowing full well that with a simple tug, the girl he was trying to stop could very well tear his arm out of its socket with a simple tug forward. Unfortunate for him though, his footing was rather off balance on account of the slanting angles of the collapsed shelves thereby forcing him to kick his heavy soles as hard as he could while staying upright, "she'll tear you apart!"

"Humph," Supergirl looked back to the bat-boy with a startling look in her eyes, lips curling into one another, "I'm the only one that can stop her," she shook her hand rapidly signifying to Nightwing that it was probably best for him to be letting go which he did instantly with a wide eyed glare. She proceeded to step her way through the wreckage her body created, shifting her muscles around as best she could to let the fast reacting healing process begin as she trudged along at a rapid pace; Nightwing, however, could only make out the hunch of her shoulders, the imaginary dark cloud that floated around over top of her head. With a quick lunge of speed, she had made her stand at the centre of the cracking impact crater further causing the displacing of its once solid form. She tossed out her hands and swayed her head from side to side with an analyzing glare, looking for details, a clue that would help her to learn the whereabouts of her current foe and soon she became enamoured with the circle door of the safe which had been left ajar, but only in so far as to gather just the glint of the shiny metallic blue the comprised its interior; it was safe to say that the person whom broke inside had long since left its boundary. "Great!" she snapped with a swift turn to face back towards Nightwing whom was awkwardly stepping his through the bent metal pieces of the shelves to get to the space where she stood, "you let her go!"

"I don't know if you care," Nightwing beckoned with a more straight commanding voice than he was accustomed too though still ringing with a heavy dose of concern, "but you're not exactly in her weight class, not to mention she's primarily magic based…are you trying to get yourself killed?" he came to a firm stop a mere four strides away from her, hands clench across his chest while she leaned over to him with hands closely bound to her waist.

"I could have handled her," Supergirl continued with a hefty bit of ferociousness that was primarily evident within her eyes, "I have to handle her," she backed off a bit with an expulsion of relief that saw the anger linger away with a limp to nose dive into a bit of sadness, "I'm the only I can," she concluded with a more level head.

"Then let me help," Nightwing reasoned with a sympatric look to him.

"You've cost me enough time as it is!" Supergirl quickly slipped back into the consuming rage. She was just about ready to turn her heals and prepare to fly free of this noxious mess and this overbearing boy but was stopped from doing so when a familiar tap of footsteps caught her attention, drawing her to the pathway to the left of the damaged containers.

Nightwing, recognizing the wavering of Supergirl's eyes overtop of his shoulder turned abruptly to face the oncoming figure. She was kind looking woman with short dark hair that showered along the sides of her head and around with a perfectly level trim and eyes that had a ghostly glow to them; however, despite her delicate facial features, she did look like perhaps the most shocked person they had ever seen before. She wore a long sleeved white sweater which hung around her neck in a square bracket that revealed the lighter green, nearly teal, undershirt that obviously continued beyond the edge of the thick white sweater for there was a flap that curved out from her sides towards the centre of her waist. Her pants followed a similar pattern to the sweater with similarly plane looking boots absent of straps or any compressing agent overtop of the smooth plastic like curvature from the top of her shin to the circular end of her toes. She came to a stop at the end of the walkway forged by the shelves and hastily took in some shallow breaths as she looked at the two young heroes, looking more towards one at first than moving on to the other. "Mrs. Sandsmark?" Nightwing was the first to pick up into words as he too took on a strange form of breathing along with a jagged smirk and swivel of his shoulders to face her more appropriately.

"Aunt Helena," Supergirl spoke up in a military tone that abstracted greatly from her fellow hero, "you have my word as an Amazon that I will return her to help restore what was lost." She bowed her head slightly and rose up her right hand in a fist and clenched it tightly to the left side of her chest.

"Yeah umm…" Nightwing gulped as he rose up his right hand awkwardly and extended his index finger in the direction of the broke safe door, "what do you guys keep in there?"


"Do you want my help or not?" Nightwing posited a question with a stern voice. The young hero had made his way up from the hole with a casual jump and boost of his rockets, coming to a clean landing upon the smooth cement of the sidewalk which was still remarkably absent of any pedestrians. He shook his shoulders as he rose up to his feet, letting his head crook down to one side as he saw some of the stifled people locate their cars while others were still a little stunned, unwilling to leave their tight grasps against the building fronts.

"I never asked for it in the first place," Supergirl sounded off with her disapproval as her approach to the ground from her high reaching push into the air from the basement of the museum seemed more natural to that of the technical inclined Nightwing. "There's nothing you can do for me anyway," she slammed her hands to her sides once more and shot forth a distasteful glare in the boy's direction.

"Oh come on," Nightwing hummed with a lighter tone, tossing up his hands to add some physicality to his words. He stepped a little closer to her, slowing down within four feet with a bit of a hunch to his shoulders, "I want to help…we're family," he swallowed with a narrowing stare into her eyes but the reception was less than lukewarm.

"We are not family," Supergirl wagged a hand across the front of her face forcing the lurching boy to step back a bit, "we share no bond of blood," her words reverberated through him like wildfire turning his body into warm mush, "my mother only puts up with you because she believes that all people have the right to be accepted anywhere, especially with her. It's a sacrifice she takes on…don't expect the same from me," she turned herself away from him before starting up into a path that crossed along his side. She raised her chin and prepared to fire up in a flight plan but was shot down before her feet could even lift from the ground when the boy behind her had something important to say.

"I know how to find her," Nightwing grumbled. He lifted his face a little, catching his eyes upon those of Supergirl's whose face had turned to her inner shoulder, interest evidently within her clean eyes. "I was able to place a tracking device on her before I found you…."

"Well come on then," Supergirl quickly turned around, "give me some coordinates or something."

"I will," Nightwing lowered his right hand to his belt line, tapping along one of the silver tubules causing it to spark up in a white light for a moment, "but first I want to know what's happening. Why is Miss Marvel acting like this…" he trailed off into silence as he came to recognize the resilience in Supergirl's face, "I'm sort of a detective. I need data to reach my conclusions."

"I don't know," Supergirl rolled her eyes, "she attack a museum in Metropolis," she returned her look to Nightwing, taking on a tone of voice that regularly fell into sarcasm even if the words spoken were true, "I tried to stop her…but I couldn't. I've been following her ever since and she led me here…that must have been like a half-hour back," she shook her head with uncertainty, "she hasn't even said a word, she just sort of growls at me."

"The cabinet that she broke into inside the safe contained an undeclared and unregistered amulet piece," Nightwing piqued up with an almost shrill voice though kept it under to a modest commanding tone, "Mrs. Sandsmark described it as being a rounded piece with a chiselled eye as the central figure upon its top surface."

"So?"

"Well," Nightwing let his head wobble around on the pivot of his neck, "It was a broken off piece which means there probably other parts to its complete form…the museum in metropolis probably had part of its own as well as any other place she broke into before you found her."

"What good is this to me?" Supergirl scoffed, "give me a tracker and I'll take her down."

"Hold up," Nightwing scrawled up to a more affirmative strength, "we should try to learn what she's trying to put together with the pieces she's collected before we try to take her on. If I can get a picture of the piece from Metropolis then maybe I can put together a better picture."

"Well, then do it on the run," Supergirl rose into the air, "either you show me where she's gone or I'll search for her without you."

"Yeah," Nightwing's head shot up to the sky looking for the movements of his recalled vehicle, tracking in on the deep black spread of its paint job as it approached their position from overtop of the museum roof, turning its side to Nightwing as it lowered slightly over top of him; the Blue Bird had arrived. Its central piece of the craft was an oval shaped piece with a flatter bottom side in comparison to a more angled top piece on account of the wide brim deep tinted blue windshield that took up much of the top space with the exception of the foot thick rectangular shaped box at the back which was the solid straight edged abstraction to the rather circular craft. This box end was remarkable flat though it was of note that the top of it was curved inward like one fourth a circle piece and in its placement appeared as though it was the place from which the windshields gears caused its lift. On either side of this centre piece were spike like wings that bowed outwards more so when closest to the pod before narrowing out to a point a good distance ahead of the craft's bulk. On the inner side of the wings were dark blue panel that followed within a strong black trim. "Just follow me I guess," Nightwing awkwardly stated as he looked to the underside of the vehicle. The bottom of the craft had four thick spaced, yet thinly sliced, metal bits that curved into one another blocking out a body sized hole; slipping inwards to the interior plating at a simultaneous rate with one another revealed the interior of the pod which Nightwing took to his advantage as he leapt up as high as he could, fluttering as he lowered down into the seat just behind the hole in the floor he just flew into. The interior was quite sleek in its design, the chair being a cushioned black that kind of leaned backwards while there were two handle bars on either side that required the grasp of his two hands to take full control of its movements; the moment his hands came to touch the electrical patterns underneath the surface of his uniform shot up in the electronic blue, all jagged yet entirely straight lines that rode all the way up his arms. Comfortable, he looked into the mini computer screen directly ahead of him that was embedded into the narrow dashboard within.

"Are we going?" Supergirl tapped along the windshield, calling through it with minor distortion to her voice.

Nightwing shook his head and called up the tracking image, laying out a map of the city while letting a thick blue line dominate the image leading him on a straight direct path to where Miss Marvel had flown off with his tracer. With a pull of the handle bars, the Blue Bird lurched forward on a curvature upwards to reach for the clear blue skies quickly followed by the free roaming body of Supergirl.

"Proxy?" Nightwing threw a question out to his seemingly always available source of information.

"Nightwing."

"Good," Nightwing responded hastily, "Miss Marvel's been breaking into Museums, stealing cracked amulet pieces, I was wondering if the pieces were probably connected somehow, is there any way you could construct an image from the parts?"

"I can use the museum archives to get pictures, though I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking for…?"

"Oh, of course, sorry," Nightwing nodded his head for the benefit of himself, "I'm with Supergirl right now-"

"Your cousin?"

"Apparently not," Nightwing grunted as he moved on from the interruption, "she said that the museum in Metropolis was one of the places that Miss Marvel broke into. They've probably reported the missing artefact by now, cross check that with any other museums that have been broken into recently and see if there are any matches."

"I'm on it, but it's going to take some time."

"Where are we going?" Supergirl flew over top of the windshield and looked down at the boy in his cockpit in his seated position that could only be described from this angle as appearing upside down.

"She came to a stop not too far from here," Nightwing raised his head to look at her with his dazed white shot eyes, "but it's not another museum…." He narrowed in on the viewing screen.

"Well then where is it?" she enunciated strongly upon each word with rapid shakes of her hands.

"Looks like some sort splotch of clear land?" Nightwing contended with a sheepish moan, "it's not something really defined on my map."

"Agh," Supergirl grunted with displeasure as she throttled herself forward from the front of the craft, breaking off from the close hovering to develop an air of flight that was her own.

"Doesn't sound like she's too fond of you."

"What proxy?" Nightwing pulled his head down from the clouds, "oh, well, our first encounter was kind of rocky and it's been going down ever since…I think I understand. She doesn't exactly have a whole lot of fun as a super hero, since Superman flow off on his great star journey she's sort of just been expected to fill the role and she's just too young to be expected to be doing this all on her own yet she does so anyway," he lowered his head into his shoulder, "I don't blame her for not liking me much, I just thought that we would both have some common ground considering we have a parent who seems to have forgotten us…I don't want to give up on trying to get her to like me though."

"Hurts don't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nightwing squeaked in anticipation.

"You're so lovable…."

Nightwing's eyes narrowed while his shoulder slumped, "just let me know when you've got the image collected." His hands pulled back on the bars energizing a heightened pace modulated by the shift in gears, "I'm heading in."


The automated landing system within the Blue Bird found a spot of moss ridden grass land whose flat plain characteristics Nightwing quickly dismissed as being a very thin understatement. The sides of the long spike wings sunk into the ground while the central pod shifted around for a brief moment to fit the parking orientation that the wide spacing permitted. The gears within the quarter circle atop the box began to turn backwards, rotating back the cumbersome blue windshield which immediate shot out from its slot letting free a solid shot of steam from all sides, a lingering trail of greyish clouds that once kept the interior so air tight as it was. A significant space opened up from the raise, the ending tip of the windshield having lifted up several feet to reveal the interior of the Blue Bird though of more striking note was that of the young driver inside whom was awkwardly crawling out along the side trim where the windshield was originally stationed, stomach collapsing upon the side bars with hands and legs being flailed around aimlessly to help himself get over.

"What's wrong with you?" Supergirl came to smooth landing alongside the craft and almost immediately clasped her fingers around her waist bones, towering over top of the fallen hero.

Nightwing planted his hands into the ground but upon recognizing the emergence of his hands in the moss his eyes lit up in the cleanest of whites, throwing a jiggling shard of disgust mixed in with fear throughout his body, raising his hands from the floor as quick as he could to get onto the support of his feet. He shook his head rapidly from side to side with his tongue slipping out from his lips from time to time, "this is cemetery," he swallowed, "look where I landed…." He waved out his hand to the parked position of his parked vehicle showcasing the ground lain plaques and the occasional raised stone that slanted inwards towards those lied to rest. "There are bodies under there!" he spoke up in a loud shocked tone as he continued to wave his extended index finger towards the rows of plaques and identification stones that looked as though they had been purposely laid to create a runway for the landing of his vehicle.

"Watch where you step then," Supergirl smirked.

The plot of land dedicated to cemetery use was sizable though not quite as large as more the football arena sized plots that had become the norm; judging further from the abundance of stone crosses and monolithic stones affirmed within the two heroes that this particular resting place had long since been used up to full capacity with the last burial no doubt occurring some four decades back from today. Surrounding the area was a simple grey metal fence, thick poles spaced out from one another a suitable distance while thin twine like cords weaved through one another and in between forming diamond shaped patterns big enough to fit a tennis ball through, almost. Beyond the fence line were the poorly decaying roadways that weren't nearly as wide or as well formulated as the ones within the inner city they had left. At their backsides ranged an assortment of taller buildings, the usual high-rise apartment structures that stood upwards of twenty stories and casted a forced perception of their clustered image, as though there glued together though still not quite touching. On the other side of the roads to their sides were primarily low key housing units, long strips of wooden panels in the strangest hues of blue, green and others that stood out; their meagre front lawns being just a mould ridden as the cemetery's. Of special note was the plot ahead of them which existed somewhat on a slope upwards with a few recognizable small sized jagged cliffs raising upward from the ground with their clay like texture making up the exposed wall; the grass however remaining well intact on its backside. A series of room sized buildings composed of varnished stone dotted the line of these cliff sides, holding their personal plot of land to themselves with less than adequate security that often consisted of a shin high wood or metal fence and simple bolted door that prevented trespassers from entering inside. The exterior of these small houses were quite extensive in their designs, swirling bits of carved stone with the popping out of angelic imagery was the standard norm but the wonder of these such designs was lost in the young minds once they came to understand what exactly these homes housed.

"Crypts," Nightwing comment sorely, looking to the ancient looking stone buildings that he had originally found himself admiring for their architectural achievements, especially the ones with the lined pillars along its outer perimeter, supporting on their tops a trimming triangular bent roof. The trees in behind with their old long branches and sparse foliage added a whole new level to the creepy image the crypt section already possessed. The sickness caused by the whole ordeal of sights was not sitting to well within him as he realized that the so called investigation may forcibly take them inside one of these 'shacks'. It was time to get continue on though, to fight the fears as a Lantern wielder would and focus on this dire mission, "she's over there somewhere…" he weakly stated with a gulp as he stepped forward, Supergirl soon following in behind.

"You look scared," Supergirl stepped up alongside him, joining him on the long path ahead watching as the poor boy darted around the resting places as signified by the embedded stones, "I can take things over from here."

"No," Nightwing shouted back in response before tempering down to a more stable attitude that displaced his begrudging fear, at least outwardly, "I can handle this."

"I'm serious," Supergirl slid in to the front of him at super speed forcing him to stop mid step. He recoiled backwards a bit but held his head up high as she looked into him with a concerning glow in her eyes, "this is my fight and the last thing I need right now is to be worrying about someone else."

"Do you care then?" Nightwing let his shoulder line drop to smooth slopes from his neck, whatever strength he was holding up for image sake being lost as he began to prod away at the girl's inner feelings.

"Agh," Supergirl shook her head in defiance while her hands crossed over her chest blocking out the shield, "you want to bring this up here? Now?" she scolded the boy for losing his focus.

"Well, why don't you like me?" Nightwing questioned under a sullen sob.

"You should be able to answer that yourself," Supergirl tossed out her response with cynicism as she turned away and continued on the path towards the ancient ruins of the crypts, "it's amazing how Cassie puts up with you on a daily basis," she stormed away with a feisty sway of her fists leaving Nightwing rather dumbfounded in his stunned stationary position, using such a moment to his advantage in inquire his thoughts and memories to extract that supposed answer that lay within him, "are you coming or what?" she snapped him free of his odd state of mind followed by a quick burst of adrenalin that modified his walking space into an all-out jog to catch up.

The two of them successfully breached the line leading into the small stone houses that carried within them a multitude of decaying bones and sand filled urns, thoughts that reached within Nightwing and held there suspended for some time forcing him to look away whenever he had accidently let his eyes wander up the beautiful cobblestone paths to the well-furnished doors that kept within them their horrors. The ground was a lot more coarse in comparison to the previous tracts of grass that dominated the flat lands of the cemetery, taking on a more rugged appearance with unfathomable number of small jagged stones and pebbles that formed an intricate set of pathways that weaved in and around the small houses; the grass and its strong blades had been regulated to nothing more than just weeds that sprouted in the most inconvenient of regions.

"How're you holding up," Supergirl glanced back over her shoulder.

Nightwing fumbled in slowing down to a more comfortable pace as he came alongside his colleague, "uh, fine…I'm not as weak as you think."

"There is certainly doubt there," the blue haired hero responded in jest, "but the truth of the manner may lay unfavourable against you."

"Was that a backhanded compliment?" Nightwing piqued up to a more cheery state for a single moment, albeit one mired by the fact of the insulting words, "I keep getting backhanded compliments."

"Where are we supposed to be going?" Supergirl came to a stop at an apparent fork in the road; the surrounding rocky trails numbered at least five and headed in generally random directions with the lot of them each tapping upon a myriad of differentiated crypt shelters before tapering off into the forested regions where the influx of grass returned to dominate the scene.

Nightwing looked up to the sky and saw across the panel of clear blue the haunting image of the old oak trees with their stringy branches and their sticky sap ridden finger like extensions blotting out the beauty of the open air adding a whole new realm of creepiness to this current endeavour; he was a creature of the night, there was no shame in being scare of the happenings that occurred during the day, right? "My cowl sensors are picking up on the signal," he responded with assurance, "we should be going that way," his hand raised upward in full extension straight ahead of his body, closing in palm shooting outwards towards a line of sight that took them around one of the more monolithic structures noted for its grey canvas stone being supplanted by a trim of ivory white design with a pathway of majestic marble which he inevitably failed to follow along for obvious reasons; it was time to really focus.

"Guess we'll blaze our own trail," Supergirl crossed along Nightwing's backside, looking over to the side of the crypt that blocked her from seeing just what it was the young boy was pointing too. Much to her dismay, there was not much to be looking at, just the dense forestry that lay outside the confines of the cemetery's known lands. It was a rugged territory of green moss and fallen logs situated in and amongst the wide tree trunks with their rough bark exteriors and sticky honey excursions within in many of the formed cracks. "Come along then," Supergirl ordered as she triumphantly took the first few steps alongside the crypt broadside wall, leaving the shade of its side to enter into the forested region where her first step was met with the easy collapse of a fallen branch that was a thick as her muscular arm.

"Yeah," Nightwing commented lowly to himself as he tapped the side of his head throwing the imaging processers back into their normal orientation. It didn't take long for the young teen heroine to navigate a path through the dense forestry; her strength was more than an adequate match for structured wood and on a positive note, her movement through blazed a pathway for which Nightwing followed through on with relative ease.

"I think that must be it," Supergirl's came to a sudden stop as she was swiping away at a long modestly thin branch connected to the lower portion of a nearby tree. Once she had overcome the twanging backfire of the branch, she snapped it off with an unflinching force of strength while her eyes never wandered off from the subject ahead of her a short distance away.

"Well that's quite the sight," Nightwing stepped up his pace in light of the acquired new interest, nimbly skipping over the snake like trail of shattered tree branches, coming to a stop when he had come on par with Supergirl, he too becoming instantly transfixed upon the outcropping image that was quite the major abstraction from the forest of dark greens and brown. There was a cliff ahead, a molten mass of brown goo and assorted soils curving upwards to a height that was well over double their sizes in height and spanned out a significant distance on each side though noticeably lowering its high stature over the course of its swerving movements along the edge line of the cliff itself; the foliage, such as the trees and shrubs, atop this high cliff piece was what appeared to have provided the frightening atmosphere that Nightwing experience when he was walking towards here, the branches seemingly bending and swerving overtop of them as they made their approach closer to it.

The cliff however was not of the sight that had gathered the teen heroes' attentions, rather it was the outcropping solid stone mound, a straight laced crypt quite a distance out away from the main lands where the deceased were laid to rest; there was something special about this particular crypt, its side stone walls bending outwards from the cliff that acted as its back side, the spattering pebbles of dirt flowing over top the flat roof top and shagging off to the sides. Unlike the previous crypts they had come across, this one was radically simple, lacking in any fashionable designs or surrounding fence though there was indeed a path, not one as properly constructed as the often used cobble stones but rather the more practical auburn dirt trodden way; this placed had been come to regularly, how they reached this place however with making a trail through the forest first however was left up in the air as a mystery.

Nightwing hurriedly clambered over to the stunted dirt pathway, intent on being the first one to touch the tight fitting stone door that was indented from the crypt's frontal wall about a foot, "come on, come on," he grunted to himself as he placed both hands upon its surface and put on the pressure, tacking his heels into the ground with two solid kicks and pushing as hard as he could so as to get even the inkling of budge that may warrant his entering.

"I've got it," Supergirl brushed up beside him and slipped up a single hand along the surface and assuredly worked three times as less as Nightwing but still managed to make that all too important budge that he had so desired; he had certainly been upstaged and made note of his disheartened taste in his incessant mumbling as he fell down. The cranks behind the door snapped under the heroine's might and the enfranchised stone door scrapped along the inside floor before slipping away to the far right side as the bolted metal hinges had enabled it to do so. Nightwing was bit too caught up in himself following the obvious ease his compatriot had taken in opening the heavy door, finding himself all to quickly devoid of proper balance thereby forcing a steep drop down to his knees. In a desperate attempt, he leaned his body forward as best he could with hope in reclaiming his balance but all he succeeded in doing was further pushing door inward but at the very least, he assured the two of them that the decades old rustic hinges still effectively worked with no trouble to age; his body however, dropped to the floor with a deafening thud. "Can you see in here?"

"Yeah," Nightwing responded sharply as he shook away the dust from his body as he came to stand upright while Supergirl carted her way inside, "my cowl has like forty different vision settings." The interior was incredible dark on its own; however, the source of light from the great outdoors was steadily seeping inside to make the pearly hues of the floor more recognizable albeit with the casting of their two shadows upon it. "Looks like there is a stairway down up ahead."

"I can see it," Supergirl snapped back as her head came to arch to one side, throwing out her hands hover around at her sides for adjusted balance while holding to slow steady pace in an attempt to be the first one to reach their destination this time round, not that Nightwing would have allowed as such when he hurriedly blew right by her and stomp down the first few steps with an added flair of excitement to the sway of his arms.


"Are we sure that we are ready?" a lightly pitched voice echoed with concern.

"The master grows hungry for his full form," a more stern voice replied at a near instant, the evident leader of the bunch. There were just under a dozen woman sheltered within this cavernous hole underneath the cliff side, it was damp in its qualities but the floor in its earthly brown mixture was quite hardened, like stone to the passing heavy footed pace leaving no mark. It was adequately large, being near four times the size in both length and height than the stone building that marked its entrance. The side walls were rather crusty with a variety of roots seeping in through the thin cracks that deepened the authentic feeling of its less than chiselled formation; through the roof was similar in the like, there was little doubt that it could not hold the immensity of the cliff on its back, it had done so for so long and its reliance in light of the minor tremors caused by the encroaching cliff side only served to reassure the occupants of its fortitude. The only source of light was the extensive use of wood handled torches, three to the smaller walls at the sides pointing towards the cliff edge with one on either side of the entrance way to this basement dwelling and two just like it opposing them along the wall on the other side.

"Miss Marvel has collected the pieces," a third voice entered the conversation. In a sudden moment, Miss Marvel stepped forward to the centre of the room with her elbows bent at her sides thereby revealing the openness of her palms, exposing the acquired gems she had swiped from the museums. The pieces had a golden trim going along their outer circular edge while everything inward was a of an offsetting blood red with the only abstraction being the stained yellowish-white triangles, the longest of its geometric sides aimed inward towards her the centre line of her body; needless to say, the jagged ends that the triangles pointed to look like they could easily be fitted together. "The eyes of our master," the voice continued as her head bobbled overtop of Miss Marvel's open palms to take a long look into the unflinching shapes, "the villains of this world had found a way to break your wholeness and now we have found you, to be put together as a full face so that you may triumph once more over your enemies."

The cult like figures had the robes to match their society's attitude. Like the colour of the amulet, each woman was bundled up in the thickness of a deep blood red robe that spared no harm in covering every integer of their bodies, all the way down to tips of their fingers and blocking any hope of viewing their moving toes, bordering upon the liability of tripping. A solid gold centimetre trim filled in the flowing ends of the hooded ensemble, cuffing at the end of the sleeves and around the curvature of the gown. They certainly had a distinctive voice to share with one another, but all other things to them were apparently arbitrary in light of their purpose at this moment, which seemed to be to serve the lone male in the room if he could in fact be labelled as such since the veins that made of his body lacked the life juices that made it.

Directly opposing the door frame, and sitting in between the flaming headed torches, was a well-crafted throne which assuredly would have been marvelled by a number of engineers had its components not been so realistic; bones from the dead had been gathered and wounded together with old twin to make a solid seat for their master to sit upon. Along the sides were what looked to be thick leg bones crunched together in their straight lines, making up a frame that was about four feet in height. A similar arrangement of bones made up the front though of a much smaller sort while the squared off backside was a monstrous collage of whatever scrounged up from the other crypts whether that be hands with associated finger bones in place, feet with each accompanying toe and of course, skulls in a myriad of different flattened conditions. But the horrid appearance of this tightly bound human bone chair in a damp torch lit environment paled in comparison to whom was sitting upon it. The man was lying slumped in the throne, the full length of the arms appearing as though they had been forcibly dragged along the crisp bones of the arm rests in an attempt to get each finger around the ends of the thick bone joints pieces that bounded together at the end. Legs likewise had been placed in a respectable formation but it appeared the havoc of not being alive caused the knees to invert inward of one another while the feet remained spaced out from another, staying consistent with the spacing of his broad shoulders. The head however had failed to maintain composure, the neck having been forced to bow outwards under its heaviness as it fell to an armpit. There was no clothing around this being, at least not like the others, for there was barely anything to cover; the man was nearly as skeletal as the bones that had comprised his throne, though with the exception of loosely fitting bleached brown skin that hung limply over such a spindly frame. The eye sockets were complete bare, blackened sightless holes, there were no lips around the slit of what could be determined to be a mouth, and there were no nails to his exposed fingers or toes, he simply was a rotting mass of long dead flesh and bones save for one special detail; the circular cap that was embedded in the centre of his chest.

The this circular cap was about three inches in diameter and appeared to be missing half its complete form for while the bottom half held firmly in place a popping out stone like feature, the top half was a flat as a board, shinning off a dark golden tint that showcased its lack of completion. The bottom piece held a golden trim along its bottom circular face and possessed an interior that oozed of blood red. It was very much like the piece that Miss Marvel had stolen however with one crucial detail; a thick white rectangular box with its broadsides spanning horizontally along its surface, a mouth with teeth in full shine. The top bit of this rocky mouth piece at the centre appeared sharply jagged but nonetheless quite keenly fitting for the eyes pieces which themselves had similar fitting grooves along their bottom surfaces. The soft flat palette of gold was awaiting the return of its covering and the ladies of this cult were more than willing to oblige.

"Our master," one of the women began to speak up as the lot of them formed a semi-circle around the throne built for their master with Miss Marvel forced to stand in there with him, "he speaks to us now, listen…can you hear him?"

"Yes," a hushed whispered exited the lips of the woman at the centre of the circle, standing near the centre line directed towards the decomposing figure, "he is hungry for his power." She stepped forward from the group to line up her side to the front of Miss Marvel whom stood there with a glazed look in her eyes, holding up the eye pieces in her open palms, "Johnny Warlock will be restored this day." She turned abruptly to face her and rose up her arms, coddling up the excessive cloth of her hooded gown to fit around her fingers being certain that there would be no exposure of her skin, and held her hands over top of the eye pieces which she soon snatched up into her own.

Silence had quickly fallen across the persons in the room as the eye stone carrying woman tip toed her way back forward to face the waiting Warlock intent on returning to him what had once been stolen from him. The women's heads began to agonize and toil as the whispering words of their master slipped its way into every fabric of their essence, hypnotically pulling them in under his command, increasing in strength with every movement the holding woman made towards him. With a simple snap, the eye pieces were restored into their rightful spots and the women immediately back tracked her way from the throne position. The voice spattering of words of excitement in their heads suddenly quieted down to an barely audible whimper, picking up almost instantly into gnashing of teeth and small cries of shock as they waited through the unbearable seconds for returned wholeness of the Warlock amulet to take its full effect and pull together into a single wholeness. On her way back, the woman whom had stepped forward faltered in her stepping coming to collision with the body of Miss Marvel, an unfortunate event that forced her down to her knees where decided it best not to return to the line-up of her colleagues, "he has arisen, the Warlock has returned to this plain," she mumbled through her sobs.

It did not take long, the white light of the eyes soon blistered into a powerful rays of intense energy, melting away at the amulet's stone like composition, pouring into the jagged array of cracked lines to pull them together once more and then cooling down to solidification; the audience of cultic members watched with a patient wonder as the magic unfolded itself in front of their very eyes. The gentle hum it emanated soon dissipated itself of the control grasp around their ear, the blinding rays of light dimming to the completed image; a menacing face stretched upon the solid stone domed surface. "Feed me…" a low bellowing voice boomed out from the slumping jaw of the seated figure, the named Warlock Johnny. The demonic forces within the chest bound disk brought forth a second life within the decaying figure, making negligible movements with its sagging appendages while forcing out from its ghastly thinning throat a coarse raspy voice. "Feed me…" the Warlock continued as the darken cores of his eyes sockets appeared to brighten up with a yellow tinge that overpowered the stretch tan colouration of his leather like skin.

"She will quench your hunger," The kneeling women threw her arms together, cloth around her hands tightening to make a praying cup, raised towards her master in a sign of offering, "we have brought to you she whom you control, the one your enemies call Miss Marvel." The bobbling of the hooded head shifted its shaded opening towards the gold lighten bolt that fell down along the front of the heroine's body, "take her as you need her." The scarlet clad heroine abruptly turned to face the throne with her eyes still grasping on to an undisturbed shallowness; she clearly was just not all there, "feast upon her," the woman concluded as she fell down lower to the floor.

"Good, cause I'm starving," a storming movement of multiple feet ensued, the red hooded cult members turning around to find the source of the highly enthusiastic voice, the foreign element that no doubt would play a role in their downfall if not dealt with quickly. The entrance way down into the cults lair had indeed been blocked by the young heroes Nightwing and Supergirl, the latter standing wither her arms bounded across her chest and right shouldered muscled up aiming down aim while the former was crouched lowly to the ground with hands flopping in between the stretch of his raised knees, "ah," he cringed with an excess of salvia pouring into the basin of his lower jaw with a sickly feel, "that's just…just disgusting." Nightwing declared upon completing his analysis of the hollow cusp of a shell, the Warlock in his chair of bones, "I've never done a horror story before. I don't do horror!" he looked up to Supergirl with a nod though the heroine was steadfast in ignoring his every word.

"You will do no such thing to her!" Supergirl commanded there attention, letting her arms drop nearly simultaneously with the formation of her well tested fists. She bent her arms at the elbows, poised for a boxing match of sorts, "Let her go or I'll bring this place down on you."

"I am so…hungry…" the offsetting voice of the Warlock found some ground with the increasing strength of his voice, "they must not interfere when I am eating…."

"Fine," Supergirl extended her arm straight ahead of herself, aimed down the line that inevitably crossed paths with the sickly looking creature while going through the line of red hooded cult members, eyes narrowing down upon him with evidence of rage in her shapely thin blue eyebrows.

"What are you…" Nightwing started up but before he could even reach the conclusion of his question the swift speed of Supergirl had sent towards him a brush of wind that nearly toppled him over, forcing him to lay down his outer knee to regain balance, "…do?" he wavered off in a whimper. Supergirl gave into the power that her strengths provided, flying above the ground less than an inch forcing her legs to fall behind just ever so slightly with toes aimed downward while her extended arm with attaching fist aimed through the red coats' ranks, slicing them down between their weak side to side connection before slamming down upon the breaks, throwing her heels down hard against the ground displacing the little pebbles of dirt towards the decrepit looking man, splattering him with a sea of minerals.

"Mary?" Supergirl lunged up to grab hold of her scarlet clad counterpart and forcibly twisted her around to face her straight on, "Miss Marvel?" she continued to prod for the support of the older heroine but repeatedly got lost in the unmoving deep blue hues of her eyes. "Snap out of this please?" she quickly turned to pleading but alas there were no signs of life within her and before she realized it, her fingers were clawing into the woman's shoulders to some serious effect.

"Yeah, of course, I've got this handled," Nightwing commented sorely to himself as the red figures quickly began to corner his back against the entrance way with its creepy stairway leading back up to the cemetery grounds. A high pitched shrill scream to his left side instinctively pulled him over to look with arms bracing for an imminent encounter; however it was soon revealed that one of the cult members decided to make a horribly off balance run at the teen hero but the excess fabric of her gown had proved to be an unsuitable match for the fast paced movements of her feet and before she knew it her hands had turned away from a tackling manoeuvre and became arms of support, falling flatly to the ground just in front of the person she had hopes to assail. The little tipsy event however worked much to the advantage to the others as the distraction usurped Nightwing of his battling focus allowing them to turn on him with some mismatching thumps of their fists against his sides. "Back off," he squeaked, tossing out a side swiping swing of his arm taking out two of them before shifting over to one the balance of one leg and twirling out his other, placing the end of his sole firmly upon the chest of one of his attackers before falling back to a straightened posture that allowed him to place a levelling punch up through the darkened hood of another cult member, knuckles collapsing on the hardness of the lady's nose which most assuredly cracked under the pressure.

"Come on Marvel," Supergirl let her fingers stretch out with the breadth of her palms, eyes wavering over the indented marks along the costume that she had formed float back out into their state of normalcy. Although only seconds had passed since she had taken hold of her friend, she was steadily declining into disbelief and general astonishment over the apparent loss of Miss Marvel's heroic consciousness.

"You are utterly pitiful in your attempts girl," a slippery dry tongue of the warlock beckoned the young hero to look in his direction further cementing within her this garish appearance of his characterized by the dwindling facial structure which was most recognizable for the small boiling bubbles that firstly blossomed then flattened once again along his otherwise leather tight skin, "I have sent out my soul in its various vessels to find my power and while in my travels my children have found this woman's magic. I have infected her, day by day placing more of my essence inside of her being…and I accomplished this goal when I was not but weak, broken by the forces of your evil," Supergirl grunted loudly as a surprise punch levelled into her stomach, Miss Marvel had regained some existence though under some heavy suggestion. The powerful punch left her breathless and nearly threw her off balance, making her wobble about for a bit with arms flailing forward but any time that could be allotted to recovery was soon lost under a heavy stomp, Miss Marvel having quickly gotten hold of the girl's arms to draw her in close so that the sole of her boot could pound away at the 'S' shield on her chest, furthering her descent backwards, crushing her to the floor with a crashing crack that made her want to scream in agony; as a warrior though, such a reaction was not tolerated and so she laid in silence as the soaring head pains escalated. "I have returned to my wholeness, my oneness. I am at full power now, what chance do you have to break the spell I have placed over her?" Supergirl clenched down her teeth as she attempted to raise her head but found the pressure to be unbearably strong against her. Her eyes opened widely as the Warlock's jaw continued to act oddly in its barren falling arrangement, teeth all decayed to charcoal black with slight tips of caramel coloured browns, "she is now without pity, without remorse or any judgement of her own…she is simply mine."

"Let her go," Supergirl ferociously gnawed her fingers into Miss Marvel's ankle and swivelling them around as best as she could as she attempted one last push to get her back up from the ground. Though she put forward all her might, the foot pinning her down was not budged from its position; her arms dropped back down to the floor and she quickly took massive intakes of air spaced in quick intervals, truly exhausted from all that had happened through the day's adventure, but Miss Marvel, she was like a machine that never stopped working despite what was thrown in her gears, indeed, what chance did she really stand?

"You are indeed powerful," the Warlock began again with the inconsistent moans that threatened the shattering of his own bowed out neck, "but neither you nor your friends possess the kind of power I crave…" the face within the chest embedded amulet began to light up again in the coursing white strength, the eyes and white mouth looking bar being the leaders in shine as it overcame the red colouration and accompanying gold trim, "you are welcome to join the dead here, but first," the Warlocks head seemed to nod through the reverberating bubbles on its skin, tilting forward slightly to show the girl on the floor the steadily growing intensity of yellow fate ridden light within the deep crevices of his eye sockets, "I am so terribly hungry.

Supergirl watched in silent horror as the blinding light of the amulet began to lurch outward from its stone configuration, sending out a multitude of thin cord like tendrils that wrapped around each other, in and out of the tight thinned out holes their long squirmy bodies created, slowly making a path over top of her body, raised no higher than Miss Marvel's waistline, aimed as it were towards the kneeling figure just at her side. A single pace away from colliding with the hooded woman, the beam of energy snapped out into a their multiple threads, exploding all around her body with their whip like abilities, slamming down along her sides to the point of nearly blotting her out. The cords pressed around her cloth bound wrists, tortuously pulling them apart against her strength to hold them side to side while a series of others immediately shot into the front hole of her hood, brightening up the dark shadow within to grasp around her oval head and hold on tightly. It was all over so quickly; the skeletal structure of the woman's body was ripped free of its skin holster though not by any conventional means, being that it was fully engrossed in the yellow bent energy within the sightless holes of the Warlock's eyes that forced the clean bloodless ripping. She phased through the cloth of the red gown with relative ease, carried away in the retracting beam of tendrils, crumpling down to a little tennis ball, snapping the limbs and contorting the circular sheen of her skull into the depths of her stomach; all that remained of her was the huddled mass of her cloak.

"I'm still hungry," the warlock moaned as the coloured wholeness of his chest centre amulet returned to its natural order though too much frightening effect, the gentle humming glow of the more overt facial features was retained. "By the powers of Shazam, she will return me to my proper form. I will take on her essence, her power will be mine," the lines became infatuated with a sense of greedy intent, the strength of his gangly thin vocal cords having been firstly fixed through the absorption of the magic wielder that was one of the cult members. "I have not forgotten my promise to you…"

Nightwing threw out one last jab to the stomach of the final standing member of the apparent twelve person cult before moving onto to a more finishing move, taking his hand along the woman's shoulder and bolstering up her knee into the lower rung of her ribcage knocking out all the air from her lungs. The cult members laid sprawled out along the stone floors, knocked out from the heavy beat down or were much too weak willed to stand and return to the battle at hand; their faith was no doubt faltering in the unsightly disappearance of one of their members. "Easy," he mumbled to himself with a smile before realizing through the sea of scarlet red the smashing foot of Miss Marvel overtop of Supergirl. He was all prepared to get ready to tackle the magic based heroine but in step he found himself focussing upon the escalating light of the Warlock's amulet, lifting outward from the dome with the wispy tendrils of energy, flipping around with zigzagging patterns that bent and twirled around at strange angles, morphing throughout the room with a growing immensity like jungle dominating vines. The leap proved to be fallible as the raise was quickly continued when several of the roof clinging cords flipped down towards him, wrapping around his shoulders, sticking along the inner placements of his armpits and pulling upwards forcing his legs to run off awkwardly with the loss of friction before they too were found by the grasping tendrils and pulled away from another, "now would be a good time to do something amazing!" he shouted with a keen look towards his still heavily pinned colleague but was more so startled to find it was not all just the brunt of Miss Marvel's boot keeping her in check with the floor but also now the flowing tentacles that had gathered in force around him. Both young heroes' eyes felt themselves drawn to the centre of the amulets, staring deep within the whiteness of the eyes through the thin sliced tentacles; Supergirl fought against the pull with all the strength she could muster, forcing the strands that ran down her neck to tighten and harden while Nightwing fully gave in with very little a fight, the results of one pulled in face to face. With a single burst of blinding light, everything to them went black.


"Whoa…" Nightwing moaned with an accompanying grunt noise. He started slowly to get up from the ground, uncertain as to whether he should be thrilled to be conscious in some form or terrified over the fact he had no idea what had happened or whom or what had brought him into this particular laying down position. Up onto his knees, the young hero looked around the scene he was in; returned to the old cemetery with its many stone protrusions and of course the bodies underneath though such a fact did not seem to have the same effect within his stomach as it did earlier, counting such a thing off as being an acquired tolerance. "Supergirl?" he cried out as he turned a full circle with his head, following the track line of the grey twine metal fence that surrounded the sizable plot of land. The Bluebird was still parked a dozen metres away along the runway the epitaph ridden stones falsely created. He was more than ready to make his way over there when he caught onto a blue image a short distance away from him, lightly buried within the grass along the horizon that led into the town of crypts, laying within the old section more characterized by its rise of stone monuments to those whom had fallen in long past times. "That was the amazing something I was looking for," Nightwing chuckled as he caught onto the deep blue of Supergirl's eyes as she raised her head, "you do care about me…" he affirmed himself.

"Are you alright?" Supergirl called out as she flipped up the side of her body to face her kneeling comrade.

"Yeah," Nightwing bolted up to his feet, "I'm ok." He then began to shake his head, holding onto a wide smile that bordered upon hysterics, "that was so quick, I didn't even see you move," he commended her, "how did you do that?" he then suddenly slumped and pulled up a hand to the side of his head, "wait…" his free hand raised a stopping gesture towards her, "I've probably got it on video…I totally spaced out in those final moments."

"What are you talking about?" Supergirl moaned as she shifted her weight around to her arms, finding an foot high plateau, a metre long tombstone with its silvery sheen and writing to balance her hands against to aid in her rise, "I didn't do…anything…" she slowed to a quieted whisper as her eyes narrowed upon the length of her arm, breath stunned motionless from fear.

"Ah fuzzy," Nightwing pounded the flat of palm against his temple, throwing out his disgusted sentiments with the most light-hearted of foot pounds against the cemetery floor. He soon found the sudden silence of Supergirl to be disturbing and thought of himself as being the cause in some respect, "Alright, alright, look," Nightwing placed his hands cordially at his waist sides, while his head hobbled around on the support of his neck, "I understand the whole care about everyone thing, that you're always available to everyone just as your father was. And I get that you don't like me," he stuttered along, "I'm ok with that. I know you'll be there when you can…" he let out a heavy expulsion of breath, "I was just hoping that we could at least, I don't know…be friends?" The happy looking features upon his façade soon faded as the haunting image of Supergirl really supplanted themselves within his mind; she still knelt there against the tombstones front, hovering over top of it while seemingly shaking all over, "Supergirl?" he crooked his head to the side and narrowed his vision in on her, "Lara?" When the silence and stillness proved unbearable for the boys patience, he picked up to a light run towards her, sliding down to his knees as he came to an abrupt stop at the steel ledge of the tombstone, glancing above its surface just as she had been doing so but was quite startled to find it was not the contents of the epitaph that had gained her absolute attention.

"Look," Supergirl stated through a hushing sound. The stretch of her arm beyond her elbow had disappeared, gone seemingly beyond the grave marker's heavy plate. She slowly retracted her arm bringing forth an unbelievable state of shock within Nightwing as he became engrossed in the arms fullness; she had phased in and out of the grave without an single stifling in her movements, "I've never done this before," she looked up to the boy with a horrified look, the kind he had never expected to ever see upon her delicate glistening face.

Nightwing gulped before manning up to try the amazing feat himself, letting his right hand hover over top of one of the things that frightened him most and simply plunge in and so to it he went after the briefest moment of contemplation, slowly parting through the top of the tombstone with first the circular arm bands around his forearms followed by the extension of his upper arm bending over top as needed before he quickly whipped his hand back in revile, tossing it through the air as though it wasn't his; not a thing could be felt through the ground, no cement top, no dirt and certainly no body below.

Supergirl began to rock back and forth a bit on the support of her knees, eyes looking to her side watching as Nightwing's arm returned comfortably to his sides. They stared at each other for a long moment, gauging the fear that had made itself an unassailable tower within their minds through the fascinating growth of their visible eyeballs. Supergirl briefly looked away for a moment before returning along with her hand, nodding somewhat with the bounce of her eyes for Nightwing to follow suit with his own hand. Slowly the palms faced into one another, lingering onward towards each other before coming together with a firm grasp, Supergirl being the first to tighten her fingers deeply within the cracks of Nightwing's fingers, letting her eyes close somewhat in relief though knowing not of what this meant.

Nightwing huffed and puffed away with heavy gulps of oxygen, "I think we're dead."