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.
Somehow, they weren't dead. They'd been caught in the middle of a violent gang shootout and somehow they weren't dead. It wasn't all that extravagant compared to other events they'd been party to, really. Aquagirl had magical powers and hydrokinesis, and she knew that Mawk not only was an expert archer, but also a decent brawler. However, that all seemed moot when the Forty-Deuces rolled up on the Mutants and bullets started flying overhead.
Arsenal decided that both gangs should be incapacitated. He'd told her to simply unarm them; no killing. These weren't eldritch abominations or deep sea monstrosities, these were people. So meeting their deadly force with her deadly force was a no-go. He hadn't told her to deal with the Mutants as he dealt with the Forty-Deuces, that just kind of happened. Even with her magical abilities though, she still felt out of her league. Water was surprisingly good at blocking bullets, but to fight back at such an self-imposed disadvantage was difficult, even for her. So, somehow, Arsenal had taken care of his gang before her. When he tapped her shoulder she almost blasted him with a repel spell, and when he explained that the gangs were set up... she honestly didn't know what he was thinking. Gangs don't get 'set up'. Gangs needed to be dealt with.
"You're not listening!" Arsenal argued. "The Forty-Deuces have agreed to stand down if we get the Mutants to do so as well! I know the man running this branch of the Forty-Deuces. He's on parole so he wouldn't be risking his neck out if he knew this was going to turn violent. If we get a ceasefire going, we can get to the root of all this."
Aquagirl shook her head as an orb of water just barely absorbed a spray of bullets. "Maybe those guys are reasonable, but you've said it yourself: the Mutants have that weird lingo and they're not at all easy to understand. You really think they'll be reasonable? Much less, that they'll listen to you?"
Arsenal wore a determined expression. "I have to believe that deep down, they're still human."
"Well, of course they are human," Aquagirl cracked. "Being in a gang doesn't change your genetic makeup. At least, as far as I know."
Arsenal groaned. "You know what I mean!" he said impatiently. He slung his bow over his body, stowing it, then stepped past Aquagirl and held his arms out, showing his hands open.
"No! Don't!" Aquagirl started to protest, but by the time she realized what he was doing, he was already out of arm's reach and she wasn't about to drop her protective water shield.
Arsenal ignored Aquagirl's protests and took another few careful steps toward the Mutants. "Unarmed! Lay down your weapons!" He struggled to remember some of the Mutant lingo. "No peg. No fight. Send Leader, unless Leader Billy." He really hoped he hadn't insulted them.
The Mutants were quiet for a moment on their end. Some lowered their weapons and looked back to a peculiar young woman with a shaved head and tatted cheeks. Others were still aiming at Arsenal, but they didn't seem all that eager to fire. Apparently, he'd bought some tolerance with his bumbling attempt at communication.
Aquagirl watched the Mutants with careful eyes. She sensed movement behind her and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Some of the Forty-Deuces had moved up to stand behind her and Arsenal. Their guns were drawn but none of them were aiming, so there was that, at least.
The man in the front, holding a knife, seemed to be staring at Arsenal intently, but not with the intent to harm. Instead, it seemed more like he was intent on Arsenal successfully getting the Mutants to stand down. Aquagirl looked back at her partner.
Arsenal took another step forward. "Leader Billy?" he asked again.
Aquagirl watched one of the Mutants that seemed a bit more aggressive than the others. It was the same gang member Arsenal had named earlier: Devin or Derek or something like that. He had a bit of a lurch in his shoulder that went down his arm. In an instant, Aquagirl realized what it was and she threw out her hand. A wall of water swirled between the Mutants and Arsenal then solidified.
Not even a moment later, there was a distinct crack of a gun being fired and Aquagirl felt the round penetrate the magical wall of water she'd conjured. The bullet slowed in the water and she felt it tumble end over end towards Arsenal. With a bit of mental flexing, she fully froze the back end of the wall and the bullet was fully blocked.
Arsenal flinched in that second at the sound of the round, but by the time he'd realized what had happened, Aquagirl had already intercepted and stopped the bullet. He looked back at her with a face full of thanks. She looked out of breath and honestly a bit horrified. He gave her a slight nod to reassure her, then turned his attention back to the Mutants.
"You buggin'?" Now this, he knew, was an insult. It was a way to call out an act of cowardice. "Leader Billy, so you buggin'?" He threw up an incredulous smile and managed to laugh off his nerves.
"Take Weasel out back!" the Mutant girl with the shaved head yelled to some of her crew near the one who had fired. "He's buggin'; ain't Mutant, I figure. Hang back. Leader will handle." As she ordered the command, the Mutants rushed to pin Devin to the floor then carried him back to disappear among the trash in the Heap.
The Mutant girl approached Arsenal. "What you want, Spud?"
Arsenal cringed. He'd hoped that once he was face to face with the Mutant leader, she'd drop the lingo and at least speak like a decent human, but she still had the visor on. She wouldn't ruin the annoying mystique of the Mutants… even if she was well out of earshot of her subordinates.
"Look, I'm going to drop the Mutant-talk, alright? I know that you can understand English and I promise not to take up any more of your time than I have to. Cooperate and I won't take your cell down. Tonight, at least." He glared behind his mask.
The shaved headed girl tilted her chin up to look down her nose at Arsenal. "Spud's busted if he think he can touch Mutants!" she emphatically declared. "Mutants dust you. More of us than of Spud."
Arsenal nodded in Aquagirl's direction. "She just stopped a bullet. She's the magical princess of an underwater superpower. You cross her, you cross a military. You don't cooperate, you drown. Not dusted: drowned. Clear?"
It was definitely a bluff. Aquagirl was for sure a magical princess from an underwater nation, but there was no guarantee that if something happened between the Mutants and him that she'd carry enough sway with her mother to declare war on a surfaceworld gang. Atlantis had enough problems as it was. And while Aquagirl had stopped the bullet, that had honestly only come down to sheer luck. She'd read the situation much better than he had. Even so, he had to appear strong. The only thing Mutants respected was strength, so he couldn't back down now. Not after threatening them with literal war. He could only hope the girl wouldn't call his bluff.
The Mutant leader stared down Arsenal as best she could. Under her breath, she growled faintly as if she were some sort of feral animal testing the limits of Arsenal's bravery. Her face didn't crack from its serious disposition for a few tense seconds; then, suddenly, her mouth broke into a wicked grin.
"Spud's no spud," she said, low. "Spud's Berserk." She made a weird twisting motion with her body and stepped up closer to Arsenal. "Spud's Berserk!" she repeated louder. She thumped her breast heavily like a gorilla. "Leader called Naga. Naga Mutants called Shadows. What Berserk want from Naga?"
"Okay..." Arsenal took a moment to recoup himself then pointed at the Forty-Deuces leader, Marco St. Martin. "The three of us are going to have a chat, Naga. Think you can handle actually being an adult?"
He could tell that behind her neon-red visor, she was glaring at him for the insult. She nodded but kept her mouth shut and waved on with her hand for Arsenal to lead the way. He obliged.
Aquagirl watched as Arsenal led the leader of the Mutants over to the leader of the Forty-Deuces. She was duly impressed. He'd just successfully negotiated a ceasefire between two rival gang cells. Almost. If she hadn't intervened, he would have likely been a casualty of the turf war. Regardless, this was no small feat of diplomacy. She kept her eyes on the Mutants as she followed Arsenal to the center of the Heap.
"Why are you here, Marco?" Arsenal asked. "You may not be carrying a firearm, but I'm more than confident your parole officer wouldn't be chill with you engaging in weapons trading."
"Weapons?" Marco barked. "You think we'd do this shit for some stinkin' weapons?" He shook his head. "Naw, we ain't like these punks. We look out for the streets. I dun' told you we were tryin' to get shit for our 'hood."
"So giving weapons to the Mutants in exchange for those goods?" Arsenal knew he was leading the question, but he had to make it clear where he stood. He wasn't on either gang's side. He was just trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
"Nah, homes." Marco shook his head. "We got money in the car. Top dollar fo' some meds."
"Drugs?"
"Call it what you will." Marco nodded. "But someone's gotta look after our 'hood, arrow-guy. Corp don't care 'bout the streets. Forty-Deuces been lookin' after 42nd for years. Some kids on my block need meds. How they gonna afford the RX when they born broke? Why else would we push into Mutant territory?"
Arsenal looked at Naga. "Your turn. I found out about the Heap by tracking the idiot that shot at me." He said his words with a little more hostility than he'd meant and he could almost tell from just the head tilt that Naga was none too pleased with his treatment of her. He'd have to lessen the venom. "So how about telling me what you were promised?"
Naga's nostrils flared. "Mutants 'n Jokerz clash. Jokerz nasty. Mutants too basic. Mutants need be nasty, too! Spud promised Mutants guns. Guns that blast 'n waste! Then Mutants peg Jokerz. Mutants take Gotham when Jokerz dusted!"
Arsenal felt his lips curl in disgust despite his best efforts. "As if the Bat would let you."
"Long-term plan." Naga ran her tongue along her teeth. "Bat will be slow."
"Bat's not alone." Arsenal growled defensively, knowing full well that this was a veiled threat to his allies and friends in Gotham city. No doubt the Mutants were planning to stockpile arms and munitions until Bruce would be too old to be what Gotham needed. What would happen then? Worries for later. "Pay attention, Naga. Here and now. What weapons?"
Naga grinned wider. "Big boom. Mutants promised explosives. Dust Jokerz good."
"And who promised them?"
"Just some Spud. Promised good weapons. Big." She spread her arms open wide in a show of size.
Aquagirl came over just as Naga finished describing the promise. "So they were both promised something they wanted dearly," she summarized. "Sounds like a trap to me."
Arsenal nodded. "But from whom?" He turned back to Naga. "You got a name?" he demanded.
Naga shook her head. "What's it worth?" She rubbed her fingers together simulating loose bills.
Crack!
A rifle shot rang through the air. Instinctively, all four in the center ducked and looked around. Arsenal reached out instinctively and drew Marco St. Martin in close as Aquagirl spun on her heels and uttered a protective spell. Naga, also ducked and spun, but drew guns, thinking offensively rather than defensively.
It didn't take long for the victim of the rifle shot to be identified. One of the Forty-Deuces across the way was down on the ground as another member administered shoddy life support. While in the middle of applying pressure to the wound, the other member was shot in the shoulder. Marco screamed out for his surrogate family members as a new gunfight began between the Forty-Deuces and an unknown assailant.
"Let me go, man! Let me go!" Marco attempted to wrestle away from Arsenal's hold, but the hero's grasp was firm.
"Let you go and do what, Marco? Die?" Arsenal tried to talk some sense into his captive as gunfire drowned out thoughts. Arsenal looked around for wherever the hidden shooter could be, but the Forty-Deuces were firing blind. They had no idea where the shooter was and were instead just blasting in the general direction of the Mutants.
The Mutants, to their credit, did not return fire. The Forty-Deuces were shooting above the Mutants and, thus, the Mutants didn't seem inclined to return fire… despite their reputation for being more than trigger-happy. However, Arsenal had to admit it was nearly just as worrying that the gang seemed not all that spooked about the bullets whizzing a few dozen feet over their head into a heap of thrashed cars.
Another hail of bullets rained down from the north and began taking down Mutants. Naga instinctively stood up and opened fire in the direction the shots were coming from and her Mutant subordinates did the same. They hit nothing. Instead, Naga took one in the shoulder, ridding her of her weapon. As she fell to the ground, Aquagirl caught her.
"Turret!" Naga moaned in pain. "There's a turret up there," she said between pained gasps. "Ah, shit, this hurts!" Gone was the lingo of a Mutant gang member and in its place was actual standard English. "Who is this guy?"
Arsenal readied his bow. "I told you this was a trap! You said there's a turret up there?"
Naga nodded stiffly.
Arsenal snuck a peek over their cover above the Mutants. The gunfire that had been streaming towards the Forty-Deuces had since stopped and now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see it. Hidden by the trunk of a now bullet-ridden cab at the top of a carpile was a turret. It was difficult to make out among the scrap, but he could tell the barrel was still spinning.
"Shoot, she's right." Another wave of gunfire erupted, forcing Arsenal back down. As he hid, he caught the glint of something metal moving in the moonlight on the opposite side. His stomach dropped. "Kill box," he muttered.
"What?"
"Kill box!" Arsenal reiterated louder. "We're in a kill box!" He reached over and grabbed Naga from Aquagirl. "Who did you make the deal with?" His demand was much more forceful than it had been before.
The injured Mutant leader looked at him with surprise and fear. She took a moment and removed her visor, showing her green eyes held a pained and sorrowful expression. "A man named Floyd Lawton."
Hawkwan stood opposite Birdman. The tempers that had flared upon their first meeting had since cooled as Birdman showed actual signs of remorse and regret for his involvement with Hawkman's time in bondage. He maintained that it wasn't on his order to treat the alien with such hostility, but he did admit that he was following orders and his orders weren't kind.
"There's still one thing I do not understand." Hawkman directed another probing question at the government-bred copycat. "How did you know I was on this planet? Who told you of my presence here? I did well to cover it up."
"When Hawkgirl came to Earth, we were caught by surprise. The government didn't have the proper sensors to intercept Superman, but since Superman's debut, we'd gotten better at detecting interstellar visitors. So when your sister showed up in Arizona unannounced and untracked and we were caught off-guard, we knew we had to beef up security.
"We'd already caught the Martian, so I suppose we'd gotten too confident in our monitoring… or too lax. I did suggest to my higher-ups that the shapeshifting aliens under the Imperium had been the catalyst toward catching the Martian, not our own efforts. They, of course, ignored me."
"You were probably correct," Hawkman roughly admitted. "Your world's governments, based on my sister's reports, were all quite lacking." He put his arms on his hips and frowned. "I accept your apologies, Captain Randall, even if they come after prodding and probing; however, I don't accept your apologies on behalf of your government."
Birdman looked away, ashamed. "America is supposed to be the land of progress. A shining beacon of hope for a free world. It sucks that the bad actors are in positions of power so often."
"I find that often they are in positions of power because it takes a bad actor to make the hard decisions." Hawkman relaxed his posturing for a moment. "Thanagar has had its own share of conspiratorial government members." Then he added with the tilt of his head, "Not everyone can be Batman."
Birdman looked at Hawkman curiously. "You think Batman makes the best decisions?"
"He has had a rocky past at times, that much is true," Hawkman conceded with ease. "But he has always stepped up in the times it mattered most. I can count on him to make the right decisions when no one else is willing to, no matter the cost."
"He was one of the Justice Lords." Birdman's brow creased slightly.
"A mistake made under external mental pressure not wholly his own, I assure you." Hawkman wasn't sure how much of J'onn J'onnz's mental manipulation had been made known to government officials, so he held the information as close to his chest as he could while still defending his foremost friend. "But his mistakes were made in the open and he's owned up to them. Can your government claim the same?"
Standing a few meters away was Robin. The young man had been watching the two winged warriors exchange venomous words and cool insults ever since Batman had left. He did his best to mediate the conversation, only interjecting when things were getting out of hand. Honestly, it was Batman's idea to have Hawkman encounter Birdman since the government super soldier was in town, but Robin did not enjoy playing babysitter. Batman had really only given him one full task: don't let Birdman leave, no matter what. But now he was really, really bored.
Aside from watching the two men exchange harsh words and philosophy like playground arguments, Robin filled his time with general thoughts regarding cases. In his mind, he went through the line up of inmates that had somehow broken out of Blackgate's facility. Right when he was sure his boredom would swallow him whole, the radio in his cowl chirped in his ear.
He looked at his left wrist to preview the call. Arsenal was calling him. A bit late into his patrol for a chat, but he had nothing better to do than watch over Birdman. He answered. "Hey Arsenal. What's up?"
Whatever voice he expected on the other line, whether good-natured joking or the voice of one likewise bored, did not come across. Instead, Arsenal sounded impatient and almost out of breath. There was also a noise perforating the background. "Floyd!"
"What?" Robin winced as he adjusted the noise gate on his earpiece. "What was that, Arsenal?"
"Floyd!" Arsenal repeated with urgency once there was a lull in the background noise. "Do you know a perp named Floyd?"
Robin shook his head even though he knew that Arsenal couldn't see him. "I don't understand. What– What is that noise behind you?" Before Arsenal could answer, the noise picked up again and Robin finally recognized it: gatling gun fire. "Floyd…?"
"Yes!" Arsenal said back. "Any perp you know named Floyd Lawton?"
"Floyd Lawton..." Robin replied after taking a few seconds to think. "That's Deadshot. A hired gun, and a damned good one at that. Almost killed Aquaman years ago in the first League's infancy. But his contracts have been sparse since the Justice Lords shut down a number of his higher profile clientele. Why? Don't tell me you're facing him right now? Isn't G. A. out of town?"
"What did he say?" In the background, Robin could barely make out Aquagirl's impatient voice. Intruding in on Arsenal's private conversation.
Arsenal began reciting what Robin had told him.
"No! Don't tell her that—" But it was too late. Before he could finish his protest, Arsenal had already shared that the man they were likely engaged in combat with had tried to kill her father years ago.
"Oh, that bottom-feeder!" Even through the radio, Robin could hear the animosity in Aquagirl's voice. Whatever she and Arsenal were facing and just shifted from a matter of survival to a matter of honor.
"Arsenal!" Robin turned away as Hawkman and Birdman's extended conversation renewed with more vitriol. He put a hand to his earpiece to try and get through to his friend before the young Atlantean he was with did something foolish. "Arsenal!"
"What?" Arsenal replied over a pouring out of more gunfire.
"Keep her from doing something stupid." Robin replied. "And let me know if you need help."
"Nah," Arsenal replied and Robin could almost make out the cocky smirk the bowman had on his face. "I think we got this."
Robin was about to reply when a scuffle followed by the sound of feathers caught his attention. He looked behind him and saw Birdman had taken off, followed closely by Hawkman. "Ah crud." He hung up from Arsenal without explanation and rushed after the two winged men.
High above Gotham, Birdman did his best to outpace the Thanagarian behind him but Hawkman had been raised with his wings and had had a lifetime of flying under his belt. There was no way the human with the fancy flight pack could outmaneuver him. Birdman felt Hawkman's presence gaining on him and twisted at his waist. "They need regulation! They need to be held accountable!" He pointed his fist at Hawkman and fired.
Hawkman made a quick ascend to avoid the force blast. His mace swung from his hip and he was tempted to wield it, but the situation wasn't that dire. He knew Birdman wasn't trying to hurt him. "Your arguments are invalidated by your own underhanded approach!" Hawkman deflected Birdman's words. "You prop yourself up as a new hero when all you are is a government stooge!" He swooped low then back up quickly to avoid another blast.
Birdman panicked as Hawkman closed in on him and dove down to pick up some speed. He'd wanted a nice and quiet night on the town doing what heroes were supposed to do – what he'd signed up to do. But it seemed that the members of the Justice League were just as flighty and sensitive as a pack of fourteen year-old boys. Though he had to admit it didn't help that he'd at first denied any and all direct involvement with the U.S. government. Regardless, if they couldn't see the glaring issue of re-establishing the Justice League with no system of checks and balances, then what was to stop history from repeating itself?
Birdman adjusted his speed with his wrist band and shifted course. He knew he couldn't 'outfly' Hawkman, nor could he outpace him. His only hope was to head back to the one place in Gotham he could call home. He fired a warning blast back at Hawkman, nothing deadly, just close enough to keep the winged hero at bay, then he headed off in the direction of the Cadmus facility.
Deep in the bowels of the Cadmus facility, Dr. Milo carefully led his adoptive 'son' to the surface. Progress was slow but steady. They had encountered heavy resistance, but it was all accounted for. As paranoid and resourceful as Cadmus was at planning against metahumans and independent superheroes, they were much less equipped to deal with their own kind going renegade.
Being in a position of leadership not even an hour or so ago, Dr. Milo knew that this facility wasn't prepared for another containment breach by Superboy. They'd operated under the assumption that Dr. Milo would have kept the clone sedated and placated, and that was true. However, they'd essentially terminated him and with that, they'd terminated the one person that could actually understand Project Kr... Conner.
Their escape had been pretty flawless thus far. Conner was, like Superman before the fall, bulletproof. The loud bangs from the guns initially disoriented the clone, but it didn't take long for him to ignore their noise and take the front line whenever guards showed up.
Dr. Milo's plan had been to break Conner out of the facility and stow away in a safehouse just south of Central City. It wouldn't be difficult to get there, especially with Conner, they would have had to keep it low, but it was more than doable.
"This way!" Dr. Milo pulled Conner's arm, leading him down a service hallway just as armed guards rounded the corner of the hallway they'd just been in.
Conner barely slipped into the service hall behind Dr. Milo in time. "I don't get it," he said softly, "I can fight them. Why won't you let me fight them?"
"They are not our enemy, Connor. They are just doing their job. You're not supposed to be out, remember? And I'm supposed to be locked behind a desk.. Like some common pencil pusher." He sneered and felt his anger crawling up his throat, but he managed to push it back down. It wouldn't benefit either party if he lost his cool now. They had to rely on each other: Conner was the brawn and Dr. Milo, the brains.
"We don't need to kill the guards, or hurt them any more than we have to," Dr. Milo continued. "The workers here are good people, if not a bit uneducated. I've shared drinks with a few of them, and while others can be a pain in the tush, none of them are in charge." Dr. Milo had to focus Conner's rage at the top of the Cadmus totem pole, but they couldn't rage on from within the building and just kill Waller or Strange, no, they had to build up to it. Hamilton on the other hand…
"So we are just going to leave them behind?"
Dr. Milo nodded as they stepped into an empty lobby area. "One of their number is outside the facility. We can start with him–Lookout!" Dr. Milo uttered a warning just as two guards took aim and opened fire with their beam weapons. They'd already realized that the standard ballistic weaponry was useless against the Superboy. He had to give credit where credit was due; someone in security wasn't a complete buffoon. Probably Eiling.
Conner stepped between Dr. Milo and the guards just as the beams began flying. The beams fizzled harmlessly against Conner's covered chest, not even leaving a mark. From behind Conner, Dr. Milo began messing around with a computer panel embedded on the wall. If he could get around the paltry security suite installed on the device, he could unlock the door to the service stairwell.
One of the guards radioed into his microphone that Project Kr and the doctor were more or less cornered. However, he had to cease firing his weapon to do this. Right as he finished his report, there was a lull in the gunfire as his partner had to reload. Conner took full advantage of this brief pause and wooshed forward. His fingers were around the throat of the first guard within a second and he easily smashed him into the second guard.
The second guard managed to get to his feet and drew a stun baton which he beat against Connor's side. After the third strike, the baton snapped in two. Connor discarded the guard in his hands and focused his attention on the second guard. The guard looked up with fear in his eyes.
Conner threw a punch which the guard barely managed to avoid, but when he swept with the back of his hand, the guard wasn't in any position to avoid it. On contact the man was knocked into a wall and slumped to the floor, alive but unconscious.
Dr. Milo watched with a proud and malevolent grin in the back as Conner dispatched with both guards in a non-lethal manner. More guards rounded the bend and opened fire at the more immediate threat: the Superboy. Dr. Milo turned his attention back to the task in his hands. If he spent too much time glowing over Conner's superpowers and utmost trust in him, then neither he nor the clone would escape this place. "Just a few more seconds," he whispered just loud enough for his boy to hear.
A few tense seconds passed as he fought with the controls to open the door. Conner may have been a Kryptonian clone, but he was an adolescent Kryptonian clone. Moreover, he was just one adolescent Kryptonian clone and that meant he could be overrun. If Cadmus flooded the area with enough guards, there was a good chance they'd be captured. He tapped in the final keys and thanked his lucky stars that somehow his backdoor admin process hadn't been removed from the security system.
"This way!" he yelled at Conner.
The Superboy dropped his latest combatant and bounded over to Dr. Milo's side ahead of laser fire. The beams narrowly missed both as they ducked into the stairwell. Without needing to be prompted, Superboy spun around and smashed his fist against the two sides of the door. With the major supports for the doorway compromised, the entire doorway collapsed in on itself, cutting off their pursuers.
"Good work!" Dr. Milo offered positive encouragement of Conner's independent thinking. "Now we just have to head up." He pointed overhead at the ascending staircase. The lights flickered and dimmed but returned to their full brightness after a moment. Waller's experiment was well-underway. "Come, Conner! Before they flood the levels above!"
Dr. Milo began his ascent with Conner hot on his heels, but they hadn't gotten halfway up the first flight before Conner began screaming in pain. He clutched his ears in agony and was soon on his knees.
Dr. Milo approached with concern and impatience. "What is it?" he demanded. He helped the boy to his feet and tried to guide Superboy up more stairs, but the metahuman refused to budge.
"The sound!" Conner hissed between screams. "What is that sound? It's a high pitched—" The lights flickered again and this time they remained dimmed. Conner fell to his knees and writhed as his sense of hearing was under assault. He had to stop it. He had to. Shakily, but determined, he rose to his feet.
Dr. Milo reached out to help stabilize the boy. What had happened? What weapon could Cadmus possibly possess that could subdue the Superboy? Sonic weapons had been shelved as a bad idea last year, so he was confident that they weren't in use. Unless… Waller's experiment.
"Conner? We have to go." Dr. Milo said with a glare. The new reality anchors. He hadn't much experience with the Scranton reality anchors, but if they were anything like the last anchors used on the EnigmaGate, then Superboy's Nevada rampage could very well begin again. The sound of the anchors harnessing reality was too high pitched for humans to pick up, but Kryptonian ears were more sensitive; the sound was driving the boy nuts. "That noise is only going to get worse."
Superboy looked at Dr. Milo. An oddly serene and earnest look came over his face. "I have to stop it, Dad," he said seemingly without thinking. "It can't go on."
Dr. Milo was taken off-guard by the response. He heard subtle footfalls descending the stairs and was almost certain that it was a small party of guards descending to his position. If he and Conner didn't go up the stairs now, they'd more than likely be blocked in. But the look on the boy's face filled the lump of coal Achilles Milo had long since traded in his heart for with emotion.
Oh, blast me for a fool! "Fine!" He waved forcefully for Conner to lead the way. "Fine. Let's just… make this quick..."
Conner nodded and rushed back down the small flight of stairs and then by the ruined door from which they'd come, deeper into the facility with Dr. Milo, still apprehensive, hot on his heels. Above them, Dr. Milo heard the slam of a heavy metal door and a chorus of 'hoo-rah's and 'gettim's. Just like that, their best chance for escape had been cut off. But Dr. Milo didn't care. He put his faith and trust in his surrogate son.
A/N: Sorry about how slow the story has become. I'm trying to get better at posting but life is getting busier and I feel motivation to continue waning. I'm not sure if anyone actually is reading, so I can't put as heavy a priority on it as I used to. I'll still work on finishing Act 3, though.