A/N: This is Act 3 of an ongoing story, please read Act 1( s/7083098/1/Justice-Lords-LIMITLESS-Act-1-ReBirth )and then Act 2( s/7459004/1/Justice-Lords-LIMITLESS-Act-2-EndWar )if you haven't yet. If you use the app, and/or the link does not work, you can find Act 1 and Act 2 on my profile along with information regarding Justice Lords Limitless.

A knock came at Mawk's apartment door. It was the rough and thick knock of someone who was probably twice his strength. Concerned, Mawk pressed himself up against the door frame. "Who's it?" he called out to the other side of the door.

"Delivery." The voice was gruff and low but not in a natural way. It was more like someone attempting to sound like a weathered Bostonian, but the accent was distinctly fake and the deepity of the voice laughably put on. It sounded more like a preteen boy trying to sound like a grizzled old man to sneak into an R-rated flick.

"For whom?" Mawk asked.

"Fo' yous," the voice replied.

Mawk chanced a glance through the peephole. On the other side stood a slender person with large sunglasses, a polo shirt and khaki slacks, and a backpack. Their hair was neatly pulled back and partially tucked beneath a red and white ball cap that bore a local pizzeria's emblem. The hair itself was platinum in color with a tinge of mint green and distinctly contrasted the obviously fake dark haired mustache stuck above their lip.

"What's the delivery?" Mawk asked another question, curious how deep this person would dig.

"I don' know." The voice was sounding a bit impatient. "I jus' delivah."

Mawk hid his laugh behind a cough. The box in the person's hands was too small to contain pizza. He'd become pretty good at spotting that sort of thing… A bit sour to the person's chosen disguise, he unlatched the door and opened it.

The person attempted to walk in, but bumped into Mawk as he blocked the doorway, his fists on his hips. "You look ridiculous."

The delivery person tilted their head in confusion. "What yous talkin' 'bouts?"

Mawk rolled his eyes. "And you sound ridiculous too, Mereena."

"Shh!" she hushed him fiercely. "I thought you wanted me to be more lowkey?"

He looked over her getup. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind. And why are you here again? I'd think someone of your calibre would have better things to do than slum it in the city."

She looked away. "I was bored at home. Last time we had a ton of fun an' I thought we could… chill again."

"Fine." Mawk relented. "As long as you get rid of that stupid mustache and accent."

"What?" Mereena chirped back with her faux Bostonian accent back in full. "You don' like the way I speaks n' stuff?"

"Ha ha," Mawk dryly said, absent of humor. "Just… get inside before the neighbors start wondering what the hell you're talking about."

Mereena marched inside with her box, spouting city-based non sequiturs as she entered.

"Is that really how people who live in the city sound like to you?"

Mereena nodded. "Even you sometimes." She tilted her head and puffed out her chest in an attempt to mimic a stereotypical tough guy. "Hey, Ollie!" she said with her terrible accent again. "How 'bout you an' me go toe to toe with an Atlantean and a Kryptonian in a ring? I thinks we got a shot. It'll be terrif'!"

"Okay, okay." Mawk laughed. "I have to admit that's pretty accurate to how I was."

"'Was'?" Mereena questioned as she flopped onto a vacant beanbag. "You're still that way, Mawk. You just don't realize it." She opened the box she'd been carrying and pulled out the bulkier bits of her armor. "I'm thinking of streamlining my armor. It's becoming a pain to lug it onto land and back."

Mawk, still standing near the door, looked at her equipment. "Not sure why you need it," he said. "You're fighting crime, not a war."

"That's not what Batman says."

"Batman's not always right."

She smirked and rolled onto her back in the beanbag. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Please don't."

She stuck out her tongue at him.

Mawk sighed. "You were so bored in your kingdom you came back landside to a landlocked city to trade cheeky insults and show off your unfortunate city stereotype? That really can't be all you're here for."

"You can't believe I'd just want to hang out with one of my best buds?"

"What about Kimber?"

"Fighting in Gotham. Otisburg, I think?"

"Curt?"

"Didn't see him. Hey, can you get me some water?"

Mawk reached under his desk and came up with a sealed bottle. He tossed it to her as he spoke. "Your mother?"

"Ew!" she exclaimed as she caught it. "Do you hang out with your parents?"

Mawk's face turned down. "You will want to when you get older," he replied softly with a darkened disposition.

"Well, for right now 'her highness' is having a pity party because your boss didn't pick her for the ball," Mereena revealed in a mocking tone as she idly kicked her legs in the air repeatedly. "Honestly, this is the lowest I've seen her in recent times. But if you must know, I do have another reason for 'slumming it', as you put it." She sat up quickly, a small smile on her face. "I think our outing really helped you grasp the more concrete and practical applications of magic."

Mawk shook his head. "That sounds like something you made up on the—"

She opened the bottle Mawk had given her and, with the wave of her hand, a blade of solidified water shot out with deadly velocity for Mawk's face.

Mawk's eyes went wide. As if on instinct, he flung his hand up before him in an exaggerated defensive flail and uttered, "Alékō!"

A faint blue dome materialized before him. The ice blade sparked white as it glanced off the barrier he'd summoned and ricocheted off the wall before coming to a rest on the carpet. As soon as it had appeared and deflected the projectile, the barrier faded from existence as if it had never been there, leaving Mawk shocked and panting.

Mereena's small smile slowly grew in wonder.

Mawk's dumbfounded expression didn't hide that he was less than thrilled. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not right now," she admitted, dismissive of the near-death experience she'd given him. "That was a pop quiz." She eyed him strangely. "Neptune's Beard," she purred low. "I wish you were an Atlantean... Maybe then teaching Tula wouldn't be such a drag."

Mawk looked at his hands in awe as his heart returned to a normal rhythm. "I didn't even have to think…"

"That's a good thing! Magic should become second nature to a practitioner!" She stood from the beanbag and shed her 'delivery boy' costume fully to reveal the dark green scaled bodysuit she wore beneath. There was a gleam of mischief in her eye. "So, what do you say? Down for more training?"

Ten minutes later Arsenal and Aquagirl hit the streets of Star City. Arsenal had sent out a radio call to Green Arrow to coordinate their patrols with whatever the Emerald Archer had going on, but when Green Arrow responded he was away on the trail of a corporate espionage expert in Baltimore with Black Canary, Arsenal told Aquagirl they'd have to go it alone.

Even though Star City's crime rate was a fraction of Gotham's, it still didn't take too long before trouble reared its ugly head. A group of Mutants were harassing pedestrians near Elgin. Aquagirl wanted to head down immediately and break them up, but Arsenal held her back. Now they were watching from a high vantagepoint: Aquagirl reclined against a gargoyle and Arsenal standing attentive with one foot propped up on the edge of the roof.

"The Mutants have trickled into Gotham over the last year and they're having a gang war over there– could be what Batgirl is handling in Otisburg. However, that doesn't mean their influence has left Star City," he explained. "They started over here, so they probably have more of their leadership over here than in Gotham."

"So you want to trail them to see where they're going?"

"Yep." He inspected his bow for any oddities before continuing. "If they do anything violent or blatantly against the law, we bust them. But for now, we wait and we watch."

"Didn't take you for the patient type." Mereena rested her chin on the edge of the gargoyle as her heartbeat slowed in boredom.

"I wasn't," he replied. "Was barely the hero type until last year. Took the world ending to shake me out of being a complete buffoon."

"You couldn't have been that bad."

"You didn't know me before the Near Apocalypse," he shot back. "I was kind of a self-centered jerk. Did this hero stuff for attention… I wanted to feel in control and powerful again. Like a football star."

The group they were watching turned down an avenue and would soon be out of sight. "Let's move."

Arsenal fired a line bolt from his wrist-mounted crossbow and swung from one rooftop to another right on the corner. He'd become much better with the bow and arrow, but still preferred the wrist-mounted device for movement. It just felt more natural.

Behind him, Aquagirl jumped and grabbed a hold on his line higher up. As he descended and hit the rooftop, she too released her hold and fell to his side. Instantly, she excitedly ran to the opposite edge in an attempt to catch sight of the roving gang of miscreants. But she saw not one member. "Where'd they go?"

Arsenal joined her on the edge, keeping himself lower than her so as to avoid detection. "There." He pointed across the street to a junked-out car shop. "In that closed auto repair shop."

True enough, there stood three of the seven they'd been trailing. While the other four couldn't be seen, there was little doubt that they were nearby. One of the three raised a hand to his mouth and a little burst of light clued the two heroes in that he was smoking. He took a few puffs from his cigarette then spoke with another one of the three. As he spoke, a fourth came into view from behind an empty and smashed car chassis.

The two heroes stood, observing the Mutants in silence for a few minutes. The sounds of the city were like a soundtrack to their night. The honks of irritated drivers seemed almost to give rhythm to the rumbling traffic. Every so often, the low growl of the odd aircraft flying overhead would punctuate this music. After about seven minutes of the natural ambiance, it became clear that the gang wasn't looking to move on anytime soon, but to be safe, Arsenal thought about eavesdropping on whatever the mooks were saying.

As Arsenal cycled through his various trick tips, Mereena sighed then cleared her throat, as if to remind her companion of her presence. "Is now a bad time to ask why you were a jerk?"

Arsenal looked away from the scene to his ally. "I don't see how that's relevant to what we're doing."

"Right. Just wondered, you know?" She spun her fingers idly in the dirt and crumbled rock that thinly covered the ledge hiding them from view.

Arsenal decided on using a bolt instead of an arrow simply due to size. A bolt would not be as visually striking as an arrow shaft for sure. He only hoped the bolt itself would provide enough range for the signal to reach his earpiece. As he readied the bolt and attached the trick tip to it, he answered Aquagirl's question. "I was a jerk in many ways. My world was small and it revolved around me. Treated most people like tools to be used back in school and after the incident, I treated my girlfriend poorly as well."

"Oh. I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"Well, I did." He stood straight and aimed his wrist. With a light snap, the bolt sailed through the air and thudded into the top of an old, defunct school bus. It was near enough to the group of Mutants that the microphone would be able to pick them up, but far enough that they wouldn't have heard the bolt connect with the metal side. Confident in his shot, Arsenal adjusted the second channel on his earpiece.

"Who was it?" Aquagirl asked.

Arsenal shook his head. "Aren't we supposed to be training?" he asked, attempting to discourage her line of questioning and to keep her head in the game.

She pouted. "There's no fighting yet. When you fight, I can analyze how you're utilizing magic and develop a lesson plan on your return."

He gave her a funny look. "So these Mutants we've been tailing, you're not going to help me fight them?"

"Does a teacher help a student with a test?" Aquagirl grinned back.

Arsenal sucked air through his teeth in annoyance and turned his attention back to the scene. He put a finger to his ear, activating the second channel. The voices in came over the encrypted shortwave radio.

"...that's why we can't have Mutants back to basics." The one with the cigarette was mid sentence.

"But leader say we gotta push back. Can't push back if Mutants not basic," another implored. "Basic worked here."

"I don't make rules n' laws," the smoking one replied. "Just the messenger. Mutants no basic. If we basic, we break. Too forward. Jokerz not basic. Jokerz wildin'. Basic won't work."

Arsenal hated the lingo the Mutants spoke. All members were required to always speak in the strange, disjointed manner of speech at all times when the visors were on. It was something that wasn't as prevalent in the gang in the early days; but as the gang developed over the last year or so and gained more notoriety and more of an identity, the slang became a tell-tale sign of a true Mutant. It made understanding them a pain if you didn't know it yourself… and Arsenal did not know it well.

"Word from leader." A deeper voice came over the line this time. From his vantage point, Arsenal could just barely make out the four heads turning to see a fifth figure, trailed by two more, approaching. It was a tall and skinny man and it was obviously it was his voice Arsenal was hearing. "We meetin' at the heap tonight. Attendance: as in mandatory."

"The heap? Why we gotta head to the heap?"

"Leader got a deal. New merch. Heavy. No kid gloves."

Now that much Arsenal knew. He knew the 'heap' was nothing more than a landfill dump just south of Lombard. "Come on. It's time to move."

Aquagirl pushed off the ledge and dusted off her hands. "Finally. Was starting to get bored again." She sounded just down and out.

"This isn't always about fighting."

"I know. That's why I try to just show up when the fighting starts." She looked at Arsenal and stretched high when she had his attention. "Scolding me about crime-fighting? Who's the teacher here?" she added with a grin.

Arsenal lightly huffed. "I suppose we're trading off learning from each other."

Aquagirl cracked her neck with a satisfied sigh. "Where to?"

"A particular landfill." He waved for her to follow. "C'mon. If we get a headstart, we can get there a bit before they do."

The two began their late night sojourn to the curious destination. As they went, Arsenal filled her in on the heap and its brief history.

"The heap's a place where scene kids used to gather to play crappy trance music from underground artists away from the attention of parental authority figures. The Justice Lords cut it down but after they fell, the scene kids tried to reclaim the spot."

"And now?"
"The scene kids no longer go at night," he answered quietly. "Mutants all but own the heap now…"

For a time, the two traversed in silence. Arsenal led the way through his city as Aquagirl did her best to stay hot on his heels. As they went, Aquagirl took in the sights and smells of Star City and contrasted them against Gotham's. It was not as large as Gotham, that much was true, but it felt just as large.

Gotham built up just as much as – if not more than – it did out. As a result, the city felt constricting and claustrophobic in many places. Old Gotham, the Bowery, the aptly named Narrows… it was a plethora of tall buildings and gothic architecture. Sure, Gotham had gone through a hefty face lift during the reign of the Justice Lords but even that made the difference between old and new even more glaring.

But Star City was wide and well-planned out. The skyscrapers were only in the business districts while the more suburban and residential areas kept most buildings at five stories and smaller. It honestly gave the city a more small-town feel. Even compared to Atlantis, her own kingdom, Star City felt more personal and familiar. She had to admit, it was a nice change of pace.

She and Arsenal crested another building with the Tinder-Smith Garden Stadium in the distance off to their right, the lights bright and blazing as the Star City Thunder trailed the Boston Celtics by nine in the third quarter. On this rooftop, Arsenal put out a hand to slow their progress. They were close.

"So... who was it?"

"Derek Sanders." Arsenal replied without missing a beat. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Held me at gunpoint three months back."

"Not the Mutant who was talking," Aquagirl replied with a vexed sigh. "Your ex! Who is she?"

Arsenal frowned behind his mask. "Can we focus?"

"I'm just curious!" she exclaimed. "Besides, we're just making our way to this 'heap' place, so no need to get bent out of shape. Not much else we could chat about."

Arsenal sighed and felt his stomach drop slightly. He really wished he could forget some aspects of his past. "Batgirl, " he finally admitted with a groan.

"No way! You and Kimb—"

"Batgirl!" Arsenal tersely interrupted. "Don't use real names while on the street. Unlike you, our identities have to be separate." Then he added after a pause, "But yes, Batgirl and I were a thing… Before I knew she was Batgirl. But she wasn't happy and broke it off. Now she's with—"

"Robin."

Arsenal nodded. "It was for the best. I still had to work on myself." His pace slowed and he finally stopped just short of a rather wide jump. Here, he caught his breath and allowed Aquagirl to do the same. "She helped me see a lot of things I needed to see. Helped me realize I need to tend to other people's needs more than my own validation." He took a small water pouch from his hip. "Thirsty?"

Aquagirl nodded a little.

He threw her the membranous flask and she waterfalled a portion into her mouth then tossed it back to him.

"Thanks."

He drank his share. "Don't mention it. We should see our targets coming up the street in a few minutes. In the meantime, keep an eye out for who they're meeting."

"Not gonna call your police?"

"And spook these cretins before the deal begins? Nuh-huh, we have to wait it out."

"Terrif…"

Arsenal cocked an eye in Aquagirl's direction but if she realized her use of the word, she didn't acknowledge it. Instead, there was a shared silence for about thirty seconds before she quickly waved her finger.

"There! There!" she quietly exclaimed. "Who's that?" Her question came out fast and slurred out of excitement that it almost sounded like one word.

It took Arsenal a moment to understand what she was communicating and when he followed her finger, he saw a black car with its lights off slowly inching forward among the debris in the heap. If Aquagirl hadn't pointed it out, he would have missed it. Had the car always been there? Or had it pulled up from the usually locked rear entrance? He pulled out a set of mini binoculars and peered through.

The car itself was dirty with mud and trash, but it was an ordered dirty. The kind of dirty that can only be accomplished by someone trying to make something look filthy. The windows were raised and tinted preventing him from getting a look inside at the occupants, but he could see the gentle shuddering of the vehicle's frame indicating that the car was indeed under operation.

"That's gotta be the contact, right?"

Arsenal slipped his binoculars back into its pouch. "Gotta be," he absentmindedly repeated. "We need to get closer."

"And how do we do that?"

"There's a puddle just by the side entrance there. You can waterstep, right?"

Aquagirl looked away. "I can… but it has to be water I've had contact with within the last few days at least."

Arsenal's face twisted in confusion. "What kind of stupid rule is that?" he blurted out.

"It's magic, Arsenal!" she shouted back with her hands thrown up, slightly offended. "There are a bunch of stupid rules! That's just how it is!"

"You gave water to the girl and said you could come through it," Arsenal pushed.

"Yeah, it's not a lie… I interacted with it. It was literally my own water flask. And most water in the ocean I interact with on a literal daily basis..."

"And that puddle isn't water from the ocean?"

"Not recent water, I can guarantee you that." She crossed her arms and curled her lips in an affronted snarl.

The two stood in frustrated silence for a few moments: Arsenal's mind working on how best to get them to the heap without them being detected, Aquagirl not nearly as concerned with the matters at hand. Finally, Arsenal spoke.

"Look." Arsenal pointed to the right side. "We probably only have a minute or so left, but I think I see a spot we can slip in before the car notices us and the gang arrives."

Aquagirl craned her neck over Arsenal attempting to see what he'd discovered. "I don't see anything."

"Just… follow me," he grumbled.

Finally he was almost done. Curtis was finishing locking up and through the whole thing, the significance of the task being assigned specifically to him was not lost on him. It wasn't a hard task by any means, but it wasn't simple. There are a multitude of entrances and exits, most were defunct, but he took this opportunity to familiarize himself with each and every one nonetheless. Like every good programmer knows, it's the least expected use-case that often gets ignored, and thus exploited.

Most of the entrances, he learned, were on mechanical locks and integrated with the BatCave's internal system. Even though a few had their protective insulation cases eroded in places, all of them were in perfect working order. He made a note of the few that required some general maintenance. But it was the one that wasn't on any system that captured his attention. Had he not found it, he would have finished thirty minutes ago.

Instead, Curtis now stood at the precipice of a tall cliff deep within the cave sub-levels. It was further within the natural cave and had taken him five minutes of squeezing through a narrow fissure and another few minutes crawling on his hands and knees. But it was worth it. He couldn't see much more than was barely necessary: he was on a dark ledge with a yawning chasm before him. He looked over the edge and breathed in the crisp night air. Some bats screeched in the distance and the stone walls carried the echoes of their activity to his ears.

He took a few more moments to breath in the air. There was a faint smell of grass and he knew that somehow this could take him outside. There was no way Bruce didn't know about this part of the cave. He turned to leave and carefully felt for the wall to guide him back. His night vision may have been a bit better than the average person thanks to his nightly duties, but he still dare not fully trust his eyes here.

As his hands flailed for the edge, he felt something coarse, old and long. It was a rope. A long rope. He followed the withered and decaying thing to its root and found himself touching a slightly damp wooden baffle.

Ceiling's much closer than I expected, he thought. The baffle was high enough that he had to stretch a bit to reach it, but the rope was still there. Curious, he pulled on the rope and wasn't the least bit surprised when it gave way to rot.

"Shows just how often this area is frequented." His voice surprised him. He'd meant to simply think the sentence but this place was so quiet, even for the 'Cave, that he hadn't realized how much he'd missed sound. He pocketed the damp rope and reached up, feeling around the edge of the baffle. His fingers were barely able to curl around the edge but once he was able, he tested it.

The wooden thing had a little bit of give. With another stronger pull, the baffle swung down and starlight lightly obscured by smog filtered into the area. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get a better look at his surroundings.

As he took in the sight, his pocket vibrated. His left hand reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. A text from the boss instructing him to suit up and meet him and Hawkman in thirty minutes at a specific address. He heaved a sigh and replaced the baffle.

As he inched back through the rift, he thought about the small area, surprised that it wasn't as secure as the other ones… even if it was much more remote than the other entrances; and with the baffle swinging downwards anyone could easily step on it and fall down… Not that Bruce had many guests that rove the grounds freely.

It took some time to get back to the BatCave itself and by the time Curtis had suited up as Robin, he only had thirteen minutes to make it his destination. Not nearly enough time for the Bat-Trike to get there. Despite knowing he'd arrive late, he sat in the Bat-Trike and fired up the engine, prepping his mind for the berating that was sure to come his way.

Birdman soared high over the Gotham cityscape. The wind was especially chilly in the early night but he didn't mind. It helped clear his mind and reminded him that he was still human.

It wasn't something he forgot, but it was something he didn't feel. He'd joined the military to protect America and he'd agreed to contract out to Cadmus in the wake of the Justice Lords falling, caught up in the anti-Meta fever that swept the entire world. He was excited to make a difference and be a hero. Not for the glory and accolades but to be satisfied on his deathbed that he left the world a better place than he'd found it.

But he couldn't have anticipated that the main people he'd be going after would be moles and leakers. After all the tests and development of the flight suit and energy bracers, he was nothing more than a glorified errand boy and a mascot for things to come. It didn't sit right with him, and the dealing with Mr. Chen as well as… his hand in the disappearance of Mr. Chen's associate left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

He banked a little to the right and let the cool night air wash his feelings of apprehension away. The night was less clear than he liked with smog obscuring the slightly waning moon, but the air itself was still crisp and fresh at this altitude; and, more importantly, it calmed his conscience.

As he flew, he used his helmet's Eagle Vision to observe the Gothamites below. His enhanced eyes caught a familiar vehicle cruising a back highway. A true smile spread over Birdman's face and he dipped low to match speed with the rocketing trike.

The vehicle came to a slow stop on the outskirts of the East End. A little too close to One Police Plaza for his tastes but he'd risk it for whatever action was about to go down. As he came to the floor, he checked his wrist bands to ensure he'd be operating at full power. When he was close enough to the rider of the trike, he spoke. "Busy night, huh?"

Robin turned around quickly, bat-a-rang in hand. He didn't relax when he saw Birdman descending. "What do you want?"

"Why all the hostility?" Birdman's feet touched the ground. "We're on the same side."

"Debatable," Robin muttered under his breath. He put away the bat-a-rang but kept his eye on the winged man. "I'm busy."

"I know!" Birdman replied cheerily. "Otisburg is in shambles, the gang war is building up and there are rumblings of a serial killer budding in the Bowery. All of that seems to point to you needing help."

"This is Gotham," Robin replied. "It is always in need of help. We've been fine without you for awhile."

"Gosh, they told me you lot were territorial, but this is ridiculous." He grinned. "The world isn't that small anymore, pal. The League is being rebuilt and you know it's only a matter of time before more exceptional people with the heart and soul to do what's right fill out its ranks."

Robin shook his head. "So the whole 'all-American boy scout' act is your way to try and get in the League early?" he asked accusedly. "Sorry if I don't buy you and your coincidences."

"Coincidences?" Birdman was taken aback. "What coincidences?"

Robin ignored him and fired his bat-claw up to the roof to meet up with his mentor but Birdman met him on the roof.

"Now hang on a sec. You can't just leave me on 'read' like that." Birdman sounded actually a bit perturbed. "What are these 'coincidences'?"

Robin wheeled around. "One: When you first appeared in Gotham, Harold Chen was killed by a radioactive blast the same night. Two: When Batgirl searched the murder scene, not only were you skulking nearby, but the scene had radioactivity levels that were dangerously high. Even higher when you were near."

With each accusation, Robin took a step forward. "Three: In the desert, we encountered an illegal clone of Superman that you just happened to be able to take out easily. Four: The Thanagarian refugee was captured by the military then freed some time later." Robin's eyes narrowed. "Then you come on the scene with a familiar outfit calling yourself 'Birdman'. Need I go on?"

Birdman took a tentative step back, afraid, and then reminded himself that this was just Robin and not the Bat himself. He scoffed. "You're probably half my age, kid," he replied. "Where do you get off making such insinuations?"

"You didn't answer his question." The stern voice from behind sent shivers down Birdman's back like an ice cold shower. "Would you like more examples?"

"Mere coincidence," Birdman replied with shaken courage.

Batman seemed to loom over Birdman. But what scared him even more was the winged man leering at him from behind the Bat with arms crossed. "I do not believe in mere coincidence. Katar Hol is with us. He disclosed to us what he could remember of his time in captivity."

Katar uncrossed his arms and approached Birdman. "I wasn't aware of much, but I do remember a few names and faces… Including yours, Captain Randall."

A/N: I know I don't usually put Author's notes in my work like I used to, but I just wanted to share a bit of thanks to all those who are reading this story. Whether you're new or you've been reading from Act 1, I'd like to express my heartfelt gratitude to each and every one of you. This took a bit of time to post up because I've just finished moving not only homes, but jobs. As things quiet down, I hope to be more regular in writing to avoid gaps in posting and losing your interest. I do have another story called 'Sidestories' on my profile that is a growing collection of one-shots that further fill out this world I'm building up. I have just finished writing Chapter 24 and am working on Chapter 25 as well as a new sidestory. Please take time to read and, if you find it in yourself to do so, review. I do my best to respond to all reviews.