A Grey Justice on the Horizon

by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Young Justice/DCAU/Marvel Comics) Ever dress up for Halloween intending to be one thing only to be seen as something else by those that saw you? The Scoobies certainly do because thanks to the chaos spawned by the spell of Ethan Rayne they will become people who are quite different from what they'd intended to be. A difference that will echo throughout the world.

9. For Every Action

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or the associated companies. I make no money off of this story whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that in the future. I write only because I enjoy doing so and because there are those who enjoy reading my works. Therefore I would appreciate it if no lawsuits or criminal charges were sent my way because I can guarantee you won't get back even a tenth of what you pay your lawyers.

Your daughter has been shot.

That'd been all it'd taken for her to wheel herself out of the apartment building and hail down the first cabbie who didn't mind picking up a paralyzed woman. She knew that some of the taxi drivers would purposefully pass her by because they didn't want the hassle of having to lift a woman into the back seat and put her wheelchair into the trunk of their car. Still, she'd managed just the same and now she was here to find out the status of her daughter and how she had been shot in the first place. Her mind was awhirl with possibilities, ranging from some random street punk to someone from her 'old life' to something even worse: someone from HIS old life. It'd been years since she'd been active in that area of business, being paralyzed from the waist down dried up the job offers rather quickly, but that didn't necessarily mean that people looking for retribution would leave her or her daughter alone. If one of them was responsible… she might have to relent and call HIM to see if he could do anything about it.

NO ONE hurt her daughter!

She was perfectly willing to pay the price for her past sins but Artemis was off limits.

"My name is Paula Crock. I'm here to see my daughter Artemis Crock." She said after rolling up to the nurse's station.

"One moment, Missus Crock," the nurse behind the counter said as she typed into her computer. "Here. Your daughter is in room three oh four. Her file has her listed as stable and due to be discharged as early as tomorrow."

"Thank heavens," she sighed at the knowledge that her daughter was not so seriously hurt that long term care would be needed.

She knew firsthand how long it took on average to heal from certain wounds, so knowing that her daughter could leave tomorrow meant the shots hadn't landed anywhere serious. Turning away from the nurse's station, she made her way to the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. As the car rose, she decided that when she saw her daughter she'd demand to be told precisely what she had been doing at nights. For a while now she'd been noticing Artemis going out at nights and not all of the reasons she'd given had been completely kosher, but she'd trusted that her daughter would tell her if she got into trouble. Now she realized that she should have pressed for the truth sooner because, if she had, then maybe this hospital trip would never have happened.

Once out of the elevator she navigated her way to room three oh four but, when she got close, she saw an oddly dressed young man standing in front of the observation window to her daughter's room. She didn't recognize the costume so she didn't know if he was a super villain or some new superhero that hadn't made the news yet, so she approached cautiously. It wasn't until he apparently heard her that he turned his head and she recognized him as the young man that her daughter had met outside their apartment one night. She'd had a bit of fun when Artemis came back that night, implying that she'd been out with her new 'boyfriend' and it had been amusing to see her little girl babble. Now that he was here, though, and in some kind of costume, she had to wonder just what his connection to her daughter really was.

"Missus Crock. I wish we could've formally met under more… ideal circumstances," the young man said with what seemed like genuine regret. "My name is Lex Lensherr."

"I would've preferred tonight go differently as well, Mister Lensherr," she said honestly before putting an edge into her voice. "I don't suppose you know why my daughter was shot or who did it?"

"The why… simply put… is me. I was offered a position in an organization tonight due to… some unique qualities… I possess. I refused the offer because the goals and methods of the organization were too extreme. They conflicted with my sense of honor," he replied with guilt readily evident in his voice. "The recruiter was displeased with my refusal and implied that while I could survive his displeasure, others might not. I didn't realize until the man was gone that he was referring to Artemis but once I did, I immediately went to find her. She was in the sewers when I found her under attack by some old guy in black ops gear. I stopped him but she was already wounded so I brought her here."

"What organization was trying to recruit you?" she asked, trying to figure out the answer on her own.

"An organization way out of the local league," he replied with implied hidden meaning. "They'd find nothing but shadows if they went looking."

For a moment she was confused about what Mister Lensherr was trying to tell her but, while she'd been out of 'the game' for a long while, her mind hadn't completely dulled. The League of Shadows was the organization that'd tried to recruit the young man before her and he had refused. She almost failed to keep the shock from her face but realized that divulging what she knew in front of someone she didn't know.

Still, there were some things she could say safely.

"Do you think they will try to hurt my daughter again?" she asked, fearful that even if the first assassin was stopped others would likely follow to ensure her daughter's demise.

"I intend to make sure that they don't get the chance." His tone was one that made her shiver emotionally. "I intend to make it clear to them what happens to those who harm my friends."

With those words he reached beneath his cloak and pulled out a letter before handing it to her.

"Give this to Artemis for me, would you? I'll be… out of touch for a while."

Before she could say anything to him, he turned away from her and walked away from her.

She didn't know what to do.

She didn't know if she should try to stop the young man from doing something that'd probably be quite reckless and dangerous or to simply leave him be. If Artemis had invited him in before all this and given her a chance to know this Lex Lensherr better, she might have a reason to stop him but all she had was this one encounter.

In the end, though, it all came back to one fact: she in a wheelchair and hardly in a position to stop someone who was obviously dead set on his present course of action.

Turning to look at her daughter who had apparently noticed that she'd arrived if the guilty and fearful look on her face was anything to go by.

Now THIS I do know how to handle, she thought as she rolled towards the room's door. Time to put the fear of God into her before letting her know how worried I was for her.

You can hide all you like, Ra's, he thought as he used the computer setup to search for League of Shadows facilities and operations. I WILL find you.

One might wonder how he would do such a thing but they would do well to remember that he had the memories of a man who had some measure of experience in setting up secret lairs and running hidden organizations. As the leader of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants didn't just limit his bases to remote locations and orbital satellite HQs. Magneto had safe houses and front companies designed to provide funds for his schemes. While some of the work was delegated to other Brotherhood members, much of it was Eric's doing. As a result he knew what to look for as he sifted through the information displayed on the screens of various sizes that were linked to the computer set up he'd personally constructed when he began supporting Artemis. Multitasking between numerous screens that displayed new information every sixty seconds wasn't hard either since Magneto's skills as a strategist required keeping tabs on multiple things at once.

He looked at images from any camera he could gain access to, from traffic cameras to those installed in ATMs to a few corporate security cams hooked up to systems with piss poor security. He also accessed the records for delivery companies ranging from independent family run operations all the way up to the big corporate ones that hauled a lot of product. In both he was looking for anomalies, things that on their surface looked normal but a closer inspection revealed something fishy, which could indicate a hidden base or a front company. Things like a location ordering more product than they should really need or catching a snapshot of a person walking down the street with certain physical or behavioral tells that indicated extensive combat training with focus on ninja skills. He was also familiar with how to conceal certain illegal weapons thanks to Magneto, either because the Brotherhood members had needed to carry them around in public or because his enemies had done so.

Sometimes the hacker programs he'd gotten copies of, to replace the ones lost when he'd destroyed Bette's warehouse HQ, couldn't get through the security of an information resource he wanted but he didn't have time to waste trying to force his way in or try something new. Artemis would be out tomorrow and, while he had a feeling her mother was going to be watching her like a hawk and not letting her anywhere near the HQ, he knew the blonde archer would be back eventually. It'd probably be sooner rather than later considering her temperament. He had to have his leads and be gone before she stepped through the door. He knew she'd want to deliver some payback against the organization that'd hurt her but the kind of payback he had in mind was beyond anything Artemis could likely conceive of. Add to that the fact that the young woman's encounter with the old black ops guy proved she wasn't up to handling truly trained targets and taking on the League would be suicide for her. He was not about to let her get hurt again or die trying to take down something above her weight class. The weapons he had made for her, the skills she had, were fine for gang bangers and maybe small time organized crime, but not even close to a centuries old assassins' guild.

It took almost three hours of nonstop searching, with only the minimal bathroom breaks necessary to keep his dignity, but he gradually began to piece together a list of probably locations. Some were in Paolo Alto itself while others were just outside its borders, but they all fit the criteria he had in his head. He waited until he had at least ten possibilities for either lairs or businesses that acted as a front for the League of Shadows before committing them to paper and deleting all records of his search. He didn't need Artemis retracing his steps online and figuring out where he'd gone. After that he began packing only the essentials, things he would need for his search and for what would happen afterwards, choosing to leave behind his motorcycle since Artemis could use a mode of transportation.

I'll leave it someplace hidden while I attack the target locations, he thought as he exited the warehouse and took to the sky. It'll keep them from getting an idea of where to attack me making a counterattack impossible.

Without knowing where to find him, it'd also give him the chance to 'leak' his 'location' to the Shadows in order to lure them into a trap of his own devising.

It didn't take him too long to find a suitable hiding spot for his things. It was an abandoned factory that was apparently scheduled for demolition in a few months, so he'd have no trouble finding a spot to store his possessions. With his powers he could even chose a hiding spot that would not be reachable without heavy lifting equipment or some sort of climbing gear. He examined the entire factory, evaluating each possibly hiding spot he came across in terms of how well it could conceal his bag and how difficult it'd be for someone to get to it. Minutes ticked by but eventually he found a maintenance hatch that had room inside for the bag and, in his opinion, only someone who could fly would be able to reach it. Placing the bag inside, he used his magnetic powers to secure the hatch and then he flew away with only a notepad to show him where he needed to go.

With his ability to fly, travel time lasted a minute at best before he hovered high over the first probable property owned and operated by the League of Shadows. A part of him wanted to just bulrush his way in there and start cracking skulls but, thankfully, reason convinced him to be sure his educated guess was right before letting the violence begin. Extending his right hand towards the property, he closed his eyes, looking inward, until he found his mutant power pulsing within his body. Then, like a ripple in a pond, he sent out the electromagnetic energy towards the building and, like he intended, it began to course through the metal in the building until it went as deep as it could before dispersing. Again and again he did this using his ability to sense the energy he was emitting like sonar to 'see' in his mind the path the energy took. He didn't believe the energy would be strong enough to do anything more than cause the lights and a few electronics to flicker inside of the building. The goal was to see how deeply beneath the surface of the street the building went as well as if he could 'see' anything that didn't belong.

The images he was 'seeing' were blurry at first but thankfully practice made perfect, thus with every passing release of energy he was able to refine the 'image' even further. Before the long he could see the metal inside the building all too easily but none of it screamed hidden base or illegal operations and so he stopped his efforts, leaving for the next possibility on his list.

Over and over again he went through the process looking for his prey but it was not until almost midnight that he finally hit pay dirt. On the surface it looked to be your basic two story building but beneath it lay ten levels that he very much doubted the world above knew about. He could also sense weaponry that did not belong outside of a military base or a serious martial arts dojo that dealt with real combat rather than sports style competition. Sadly his method of seeing beneath the surface could only tell him so much and the only way to find out for certain was to actually go inside. If he was wrong and it turned out not to be a base belonging to the League of Shadows, he would go onto the next location. Only if he failed to find what he sought three times would he reevaluate his method of seeking out his bio-dad's organization. He would not go back to the warehouse HQ to use the computer again but rather he would try to locate people who would have come into contact with the League of Shadows. Either their temporary allies or enemies would know where Ra's' forces could be found, where their places of power were located, and those places would be his targets.

Time to dive in. he thought as he brought his power around himself forming an impenetrable barrier. Time to make my grand entrance.

With the speed and power usually reserved for rounds fired from a cannon he surged forth, aiming to penetrate down to the largest open area he sensed that possessed contraband weapons in it. He would then ask those within a single question and, if they refused to answer him, he would wipe them out before using what he found within to locate the next stronghold of the Shadows.

The question?

WHERE IS RA'S AL GHUL?

They had little warning.

A flickering of the lights, video screens showing distorted imagery and an odd feeling in the air but nothing that they had been trained to treat as an immediate threat. Orders were sent out to check the base's power systems, as well as to utilize the security sensors to identify the source, yet still they were not overly concerned. They were members of the League of Shadows, a guild of assassins feared the world over, and none who lived knew of this base's location. What could possibly happen?

Metal, dirt and stone rained everywhere as something came through the ceiling but, just as they had been taught, all brought their weapons to the ready in case this turned out to be an invasion. When the obstructive debris finished falling, they beheld a sight that immediately had them believing they were dealing with a super powered being, though whether the intruder was hero or villain it didn't matter. The fool had dared invade their base and would pay for his mistake with his life. At once they opened fire with their weapons, both their firearms and their throwing weapons, intent on ending the life of the intruder. However, much to their surprise, they watched their attacks impact upon a barrier that only became partially visible when something struck. No matter whether they focused their fire on a single spot or spread it out over what appeared to be a spherical barrier, nothing got closer to the intruder than four feet. Eventually those wielding guns were forced to reload and it was then that the intruder spoke.

"I will ask this question only one time. Refuse to answer it or attempt to harm me again and it will be the last thing any of you EVER do," the intruder spoke with a booming voice. "Where is Ra's Al Ghul?"

The intruder was after the Master? Fool! There were none among the League of Shadows who would betray the Demon's Head! They LIVED for him and they would DIE foe him!

"You waste your breath, HERO!" a division leader declared with defiance and contempt. "There are NONE here who would betray the Master. All you have accomplished here is hastening the approach of death to claim your soul!"

"Is that so?" the intruder asked, malice in his tone. "Then permit me to correct you on two things, pal: one of you WILL tell me what I wish to know and death comes for YOU!"

Before anyone could speak further defiance, explosions echoed throughout the room but they were not the sort of explosions created by gunpowder or anything else so conventional. Instead the source was every firearm in the room as each exploded outwards, in the hands of their wielders, propelling the fragments that had once been a part of a lethal weapon into many deadly implements. Each one, varying from the size of a splinter to a silver dollar, was propelled at fantastic speeds, tearing through the flesh of the former gun's owner as it went and, in some cases, obliterated the organs in their path. In seconds over half of those that had attempted to slay the intruder were themselves dead a few of them torn in half by the destruction of their weapons.

Those with traditional martial arts weapons were not excluded from the bloodbath either for, while the gun wielders had in most cases died instantly, those that wielded melee weaponry were not so blessed. Instead they watched helplessly as their instruments flew from their hands to slay a comrade or struggled to keep their weapon from being turned back upon them, only to fail bloodily. Spears were thrust forth by an unseen force to impale a League member directly ahead of them. Swords began to spin at incredible speeds, turning themselves into the equivalent of buzz saw blades before they began to fly about the room, severing limbs or decapitating bodies. Shurkiken and kunai became akin to clouds of metal birds that flew throughout the room, often tearing sickening gaping holes through the bodies of those not quick enough to evade them.

All of this happened at once.

The intruder was not manipulating one weapon at a time or targeting even a few members of the League at a time, but rather he utilized ALL the weapons to strike ALL the members at the same time. Before long only one member of the League of Shadows remained alive but that wouldn't be the case for very long thanks to the multiple lacerations decorating his body. As the intruder descended towards the sole survivor, it wouldn't be odd to wonder why this one man survived the bloodbath that'd occurred seconds ago. Had the man been more skilled than the others? Had he just been luckier than his comrades?

No. The answer was simple.

You can't get answers from a dead man.

"Now that I've shown you what I can do with less than HALF of the power at my disposal, I'll ask you one more time," the intruder said once they were eye level with one another. "WHERE is Ra's Al Ghul? And before you think that you can just kill yourself or stall until you bleed out, you should know that with my control over the iron in your blood, it'll be HOURS before blood loss is an issue."

The survivor believed him.

That didn't mean that he would betray his master's location, though.

He didn't know where Ra's Al Ghul was to begin with.

He wasn't high enough up the ranks to be privy to that sort of information.

Fortunately the other residents of the base chose that moment to come charging in thinking they could do what the initial group could not.

Thus the survivor of the original group bled out before he could be questioned at all.

Damn, he brainwashed these guys good, he thought as he hovered high over Paolo Alto. Magneto's top five intimidating moves with his powers and some stuff I thought of on the fly and still they wouldn't spill where their boss was located. Either I gotta take it up a notch or try coming at this from a different angle.

Some would think that he might have better luck at the next base but he didn't think so. Every single one of the Shadows at the first confirmed base had been fanatical with their loyalty to their boss, with a few being loyal enough to slit their own throats because they feared they might speak. He could have used his powers to prevent the suiciders from killing themselves but that would've ruined his 'I am one scary badass motherfucker' image he was trying to convey to them. He needed them to be afraid of him, afraid of what he could do to them, if he was going to get any kind of results he could be satisfied with. By the time the last body had fallen to the ground he'd had nothing to show for his efforts and a timer he'd seen counting down on a wall told him he didn't have time to try hacking their computers. He managed to get out with only seconds to spare before the entire structure was obliterated in the most controlled yet destructive demolition he'd ever seen. All those so-called building demolition clips you saw sometimes on TV, where precise placement of explosives and specifically timed detonations caused it all to fall in on itself, were nothing in comparison.

It was DAMN thorough and made sure that the cops could sift from now until doomsday for something worth a damn and get nothing.

He didn't know when precisely it'd been activated but he'd bet a decent amount of cash that it was at least a minute before he dealt with the final group. That is assuming, of course, that the self-destruct wasn't tied to something like a heart monitor or motion sensor that was rigged to trigger the countdown once certain criteria were met. In the end it didn't matter since it meant that it was likely that any future bases he raided would have either the same or a similar set up working for them. The more he thought about it, the more he was forced to conclude that trying to pry the information he wanted from the lips of the members of the League of Shadows was a waste of time. No one who knew anything of value would be mentally capable of betraying it to him.

His mind churned as he tried to come up with another method by which he could get to the man he wanted to 'speak' with. The sad fact of the matter, though, was that he was just too new to the whole secret order of assassin schtick and even his Magneto memories were useless since that world was just too different. More and more the gears turned in his head until he had a mental tug of sorts that led him down a path of thought that seemed more and more like what he was looking for.

If he couldn't get the information he needed to go to Ra's, then why not get Ra's to come to him?

The man might be this big badass 'Demon's Head' of the League of Shadows, but he's still just the boss of an operation when you got right down to it. Like any operation, pros and cons factored into it, along with costs and benefits, so all he had to do was make it so that the cons and costs of keeping his location a secret proved too much for Ra's to tolerate. Make it clear that unless they had a face to face it'd cost a fortune and the mother of all recruitment drives to bring his League back up to full strength. Even with the deep pockets of a centuries old organization, if the bill for ducking him went too high, Ra's would either have to send a hit man to stop him or agree to meet if he didn't want to go bankrupt.

Checking the clock on a building within eyesight, he figured he could hit two more bases before the daylight forced him to call it off. He hadn't done anything flashy enough going into the first confirmed base to spark Justice League involvement and the self-destruct would take care of evidence in the secret base itself. He'd moved too fast descending into the building to be caught by conventional security cameras that by chance might've been pointed in the right direction outside of the building. Still, he'd be more visible during the day and it was a given that any person in a costume with powers would at least warrant a once over by the super hero team. He seriously doubted that they'd approve of what he planned on doing and he couldn't have them getting in the way of the message he wanted to send Ra's.

I'll keep it low profile in exposed air and only get my Magneto on when it's only Ra's' cameras that'll pick me up, he thought as he began to make his way to the next possible lair on the list. Hmmmm…

He was still sold on the idea of giving his bio-dad one helluva repair and funeral bill but he had to wonder how to go about it most efficiently. He could just keep hitting random bases with random values to the League of Shadows or he could try to find the more valuable targets and hit those instead. After all, the more time he spent taking out the nickel and dime operations, the more time he gave the people at the really important places to come up with an effective defense against him. He had to figure out some way to score telling hits quicker before he ran out of plans of attack, or else he'd be the one coming out of this situation the loser.

He might be running on anger and a desire to get a message across to his bio-dad but he wasn't stupid enough to think that he could keep taking shots at the League and not have them turn the tables on him eventually. They had the resources to figure out a surefire way past his defenses or to render his ability to attack null and void. He had to deal the damage he wanted BEFORE then.

As he arrived at the next location, he finally hit an idea that had the potential to work out.

Cowards will often go where they'll be safe when a predator is closing in on them.

If he could put pressure on two night's worth of League bases in Paolo Alto and 'miss' a few of the residents, they just might run to one of their more well defended locations. Well defended equaled something valuable being contained inside. Instead of trying to hack the files from the city bases, he just needed to let the lackeys lead him to the places he wanted to find. He'd need to grab a few things from his bag, buy a few things from the local electronics shops, but he was confident that he could build tracking devices that wouldn't be detectable to anyone without magnetic powers. Then all he needed to do was plant one on every runner he spotted in the middle of the fighting he'd be doing and hope at least one of them would go where he wanted them to go.

Well defended, however, could also means weapons powerful enough to batter down his force field and overwhelm his ability to manipulate metal objects.

If he wanted to take out the high value targets he'd need something that wouldn't require a long confrontation to take them out. A weapon? A device? Something that could win the fight for him in minutes, if not seconds, and do the kind of damage that would have an impact on Ra's' mind when he got the photos or watched the video feed. It couldn't be something technological because he didn't have the tech resources or the time to put together anything really impressive. Plus there was always the odd chance that they could recover enough of it to reverse engineer it and use it for their own purposes.

He couldn't let that happen.

As he arrived at the next potential location he decided to sleep on it since he'd have at least two more nights of taking out hidden League bases before he'd have to have something ready to go. By then he'd have a decent enough idea of where the high value targets were to go after them and hopefully have rubbed his brain cells together hard enough to know what to hit them with.

Closing his eyes once more, he extended his right arm towards the building and began sending out EM pulses to map out the building as well as any secrets they might hide.

"Master? We may have a problem." Ubu said after being granted permission to enter his room.

"What sort of problem?" he asked as he sipped his tea. It was a very rare blend first prepared by a Chinese man two hundred years ago and now only that man's bloodline, all of whom were bound by blood oath to serve him, could make it.

"Six of your hidden bases in California have been destroyed with almost all personnel assigned to them lost in the process," Ubu replied, kneeling before him and extending the file folder containing the report. "The cowards who survived fled to the closest state stronghold but have been suitably punished for their unwillingness to die honorably in your name."

"I trust that any useful information they might have possessed was extracted from them before they paid the penalty for their dishonorable conduct?" he asked as he began to read the report.

"Of course, master. All that was extracted is in the report." Ubu replied as though it never occurred to him or the forces occupying the strongholds to do otherwise.

Page by page he read the report, absorbing every word, scrutinizing every photograph and then forming a picture in his mind of how the attacks transpired. From the first sign of something being amiss to the last bit of information recorded by machine or retold by the now deceased survivors. Unlike the average men and women who thought themselves great warriors or leaders, he had the benefit of centuries to hone his mind into the single most efficient analytical tool the world had ever known. Before long he had images, sequences of events and rough ideas of what each participant in the attacks were thinking from moment to moment. It bothered him that the survivors had not been able to produce a description of the attacker beyond the presence of a cape and helmet but he wasn't worried.

He knew who the attacker was already.

It had been one of several possible responses to his offer that he had contemplated before even entering the warehouse two nights prior but the approach being used had not been what he'd expected. Given the reaction to the death of Bette Kane he had anticipated a more emotional response, a more furious one, as would befit a young man not out of his teens. Instead what he was seeing via the report was a methodical attack designed to inspire fear and awe in his men regardless of the training they'd all undergone to eliminate that possibility.

The first three attacks were relatively straightforward in nature.

A period of electronic anomalies throughout the base followed almost immediately by his son forcing his way inside in a manner meant to imply great power. The young man then gives his subordinates one chance to provide the information he requires before he begins to use his magnetic powers to prove that their weapons were not only useless but could be used against them. Even when the last of the first three bases had thought to limit their weapons to ones made of wood or plastics, it didn't help them. When one takes into account just how many things were made of a metal that would respond well to an electromagnetic field and how many would've been present in his bases his son had all the weapons he needed. From what he read, it appeared as though his son was decidedly more skilled in the manipulation of his powers than had been reported by the scout team that'd attack him and Miss Crock. Multiple attacks simultaneously while defending himself from assault with nary any evidence to suggest that any assigned to the first three bases had successfully drawn blood.

The next three attacks were more clever and impressive.

The fourth base struck had mysteriously been given a fourteen hour respite from attack and this had been used wisely by his subordinates as they awaited their attacker. All metallic weapons were removed from the base and any metal used in the composition of the equipment therein that could be made into a reliable weapon was also removed. As for the metal used in the construction, they had done what they could to ensure that if his son tried to utilize it the result would be the collapse of the entire structure burying their foe with them.

A good plan but in the end it was a futile one.

His son arrived just as his servants anticipated but, before they could move against him, they found their bodies moving to a will other than their own. Whatever force moved them was stronger than could be matched by strength earned through years of training and, when they'd been raised in the air like men on invisible crosses, the question was asked. Naturally none answered truthfully. Indeed, according to the report, they proclaimed their loyalty to him and demanded their honorable deaths. Death did indeed come for them and, based on the description of the sole survivor, he had a good idea of how his son had managed to defeat them so easily. While it is true that there existed iron in the human body, it would not be in sufficient quantities for someone with magnetic manipulation abilities to exert such control or facilitate levitation. It was far more likely that somehow his son had introduced more metal into their systems somehow until it reached levels he could manipulate with his abilities. This was likely done in advance of the attack by several hours, suggesting that the delivery method might have been placed while his son was in civilian clothing. Due to this bit of early preparation the men and women of the fourth base watched as their comrades were torn apart in various ways from the inside out.

The survivor from the fourth attack claimed that his son had tossed him aside in a fit of rage before demolishing the base itself. The survivor barely escaped the building in time and immediately relocated to the nearest stronghold, supposedly to deliver his firsthand account of the attack so that future ones could be prepared for. In truth he suspected that the man had just been so traumatized by what he'd witnessed that he'd relocated for the safe walls and defenses.

Neither had helped the fool.

The attack on the fifth base was different but lent credibility to his theory about what had occurred at the fourth base. A metal container reinforced to withstand being turned into a makeshift missile penetrated the roof of one of the few above ground bases he owned on the west coast. His subordinates had chosen this time to counter the attack using state of the art energy weapons procured from legal companies or produced in secret since they violated several international laws. According to the survivors of that base, it had been their intent to use a two pronged assault of mid and long range weapons to overwhelm his son's defenses. The former would batter his defensive energy shield while the former would attempt to pierce it with precision shots that if successful would ensure instant death. The container surprised them but, when his son appeared moments later, the warriors stationed there had presumed that the metal box had either been meant as a makeshift battering ram or a source of ammunition.

They had it HALF right.

The ammunition was actually INSIDE the container in the form of what to the naked eye looked like grey sand. It filled the container to capacity so, when it was opened, it flowed out into a pile on the floor of the base momentarily mystifying the survivors.

Their mystification didn't last long.

The contents of the container turned out to actually be metal filings that merely looked like sand to the casual observer. It had likely originally been either metal ore but it was also possible that it'd come from several solid manufactured pieces of metal but in the end the origins were irrelevant. Its purpose became obvious seconds later when, according to the two survivors, the metal sand flew into the air washing over those in its path at terrifying speeds. It was more than a few seconds before those that'd been engulfed by the sand were once again visible to the naked eye but one of the survivors wished he hadn't seen what he saw. The flesh of the initial victims had been torn off almost to the bone by the metallic sand.

Clearly his son had taken inspiration from one of the many tales of what could happen to someone during a violent desert sandstorm. The tales claimed that the sand in such storms was propelled so fast by the winds that they could scrape the very flesh from your bones like one big continuous sheet of sandpaper. Whatever the myth, his son's power was more than enough to make it a reality in this instance and the speed at which the 'sand' was travelling made it impossible for those assigned to the fifth base to mount a cohesive counterattack. Small groups of two or three were made but this only made them targets for the metal sand and, for every clump of his son's weapon they managed to melt through, the rest soon ended them. Whether it was the flesh torn from their bones or the crude implements that were formed out of the sand temporarily, none of his warriors had been able to wound or kill their foe. True, the report said the examination of the base was still ongoing but he had confidence in his son's abilities and doubted they'd find so much as a drop of his blood.

There was more information but he did not need to know it.

On the surface it looked like his son was attempting to pry his current location from the lips of his followers through shock tactics and fear-inspiring killing methods. However he suspected there was more to what his son was doing than was immediately perceivable. Alexander had to know that word would eventually reach him of his activities and that every failed attempt to locate him would only allow him further time to prepare a suitable defense against the young master of magnetism. Therefore it would be only logical to take all steps needed to minimize the amount of useful information that made it into his hands. Given the proficiency with his powers described by the survivors, it would have been simple enough for him to…

Oh… well played, my son, he thought as the truth of what his son was doing came together in his mind. The survivors didn't escape you. They were ALLOWED to escape.

It made sense and was a ploy he had used himself on occasion.

Alexander had obviously realized that he would be unable to speedily extract his location from his followers so instead allowed the few cowardly ones to 'escape' in order to follow them back to him via a tracking device of some sort. Neither the report nor Ubu had mentioned any tracking devices and, given their encounters with Batman, his right hand man knew to look for them. He could only presume that whatever version his son had constructed was quite small or very unique. Perhaps one intended to be detectable only to one with magnetic powers? It would certainly be in keeping with what Alexander had demonstrated thus far and, if it was true, then the two strongholds the 'survivors' had fled to were in imminent danger of attack. Would his son attack both at once? No. While knowing almost nothing about the League of Shadows, his heir had to know that the further away from civilization he went the more his followers would be able to bring to bear against him. Indeed several of his strongholds in the wilderness, the mountains and even beneath the waves of an ocean possessed weapons capable of giving even the Justice League reason to hesitate.

Attacking and defeating one may be possible for him but not both at once, he thought as he reevaluated his son's threat level. Nevertheless, it is clear what must be done.

"Ubu. Place both strongholds on high alert until I directly order them to do otherwise," he ordered in a tone befitting the Demon's Head. "Also dispatch Snake Fatale to the first stronghold and, unless I am mistaken, the mercenary Shockwave is in the area as well. Send him to the second stronghold and instruct both of them that they will be amply compensated if the 'attacker' is captured ALIVE and harshly PUNISHED if he is slain."

"As you command, so shall it be done, Master." Ubu said with bowed head before leaving the room to carry out his orders.

The next move is yours, my son.

Well, I think that's all that I'm going to get, he thought watched a stronghold of his bio-dad through the strongest set of binoculars available to the public. They're pretty hunkered down and there haven't been any new arrivals for three hours.

Time to shatter their illusions.

He knew they'd gone in there thinking that such a well-fortified place would be enough to keep them safe from him and to be honest it was rather impressive. Three AA guns on every wall surrounding the perimeter, surface to air missile launchers, soldiers with sci-fi guns in their hands that required a backpack power source AND, unless his eyes were mistaken, a super powered being. He was even willing to bet that they had even more waiting for him, hidden below ground or further in the stronghold, and if used properly it'd probably give even the Justice League trouble. If he tried to take them head on, he might be able to endure their onslaught long enough to defeat them but it'd wear him out. Then all it'd probably take was one super skilled soldier waiting in the wings to take him down or out, depending on what orders Ra's Al Ghul had given the solitary operative.

It would certainly be in keeping with what he'd been doing the last two nights.

Unfortunately for them he had a one hit, one win move ready that would render all of their preparations useless AND leave one helluva impression on his father once camera's got here to capture the aftermath on film.

Time to get the show on the road, he thought as he reached out with his powers to seize the tungsten rods he'd fashioned. I just hope my calculations were right.

He'd spent hours both doing the math for what he was about to do AND fashioning each rod so that it would only do the amount of damage he wanted it to do. He couldn't afford to screw this up because, if he did, the potential damage could reach far beyond what he wanted and the only people he wanted harmed were the people inside the strongholds.

He knew they'd found the tracking devices he'd planted on the 'survivors' but, from what he'd sensed, all they'd done was smash them. They didn't even consider that what he was using to track them wasn't so much a signal like a normal tracking device but rather the metal that made up most of the gadget. The metal had been hard as hell to get ahold of without a lot of red flags popping up all over the place but he'd managed and, just like he'd hoped, it registered on his electromagnetic senses in a very unique way. In his mind he had a surefire fix on each stronghold and, as long as nothing broke his focus, he'd be able to find them so long as he didn't get too far away from them. How far was too far? Well, he didn't exactly have a definite number, this being the first time he'd done this, but hopefully it'd be far enough so that he could get the rods up to speed.

Higher and higher he rose into the air, splitting his attention between altitude as well as how strong his 'lock' on the unique pieces of metal were. Eventually it began to get difficult to breath so he knew he was beginning to reach the altitude where a human being would need an oxygen tank and mask if they didn't want to pass out. Still, he pushed onward only coming to a stop when the lack of air began to affect his lock on the special metal he'd used in his tracking devices. If he'd had more time to prepare he probably could've modified his helmet and uniform to allow for ascension into space but this would have to be enough. Multitasking, he began to manipulate each rod very carefully, pushing them away from his body, until they were as close to directly above each stronghold as he could manage without instrumentation of some kind. It wasn't easy, not by a long shot, but he was determined to make this work because it was a little too late to change his mind and time was running out. Depending on what sort of sensors or satellites the Justice League had in orbit, they'd probably picked him up by now so he had a limited amount of time before they either figured out what he was up to or sent someone to investigate.

He had to act.

Bringing his magnokinesis powers to maximum, he fired the rods down towards their targets at speeds that would've been impossible if they'd be left to gravity alone. He maintained this superior acceleration for as long as he could maintain his electromagnetic grip on them but, once they got out of range, he was forced to hope that they wouldn't decelerate back to normal terminal velocity. Watching them as they descended, it wasn't long before fiery coronas surrounded them both, allowing him to track them visually for a time before the need for binoculars with insane zoom capacity became necessary. Closing his eyes he reached out with his powers to feel the rods descending through the Earth's electromagnetic field towards their targets and, with some satisfaction, he found that both were right on target.

If I calculated this right, the rods should hit with enough force to completely demolish the strongholds both above ground as well as any sublevels, he thought as he began his descent back towards the surface of the Earth. The effects will even extend a couple hundred meters past the outer walls before dissipating naturally. I even took into account any fault lines or cave systems that could turn my plan into a runaway train. Only Ra's' property and men will be destroyed.

Sure, it meant that he hadn't gotten his usual amount of sleep thanks to all the preparations he'd had to make, but it was SO going to be worth it.

By the time he was close enough to the target area to make out structures and forests rather than shades of black, the rods struck their targets and the effects were something to see indeed. The stronghold he'd chosen to inspect exploded like someone setting off a grenade inside a wooden crate and he could almost see ripples in the land surrounding it as the energy rippled outwards. Earth was upended, stone was shattered, fiery explosions were unleashed and bits of metal scattered in every possible direction. When the force died off, the show concluded with the sinkhole effect caused by the stronghold caving in on the sublevels that'd been obliterated by the tungsten rod's impact.

He wasn't sure just how much damage he'd caused or how much it'd cost for Ra's to rebuild everything back to the way it was but he was confident that he'd made a definite impression. Now that his bio-dad could see just how badly he could hurt his League of Shadows, he'd have to weigh the cost of continued ducking against a simple face to face with him. The only question now was how to provide Ra's a means of conveying a suitable meeting place without letting the Justice League or the authorities pick up on the message as well. He didn't have time to think up a complex code or keywords clever enough that only Ra's would be able to discern their meaning… and then it hit him.

With a surge of power, he summoned the metal fragments left by the destroyed stronghold and began to break them down even further than before until they were powder. Then he looked about for the nearest flat surface before he began to use the metallic powder like ink to write his message into the flat surface. However he didn't use any language you could learn in a known university, but rather a demonic language that he'd picked up after hours of research with Giles. He didn't know the entire vocabulary or fully grasp the grammar and syntax but he knew enough that he'd be able to leave the message he wanted. If the League of Shadows really was as old as he'd been told, they were then they'd have to have encountered demons at some point during their activities. They probably had a few demonic members along with the human ones and, even if they didn't, a person couldn't deal with demonic enemies effectively unless you understood the language.

With a little luck Ra's Al Ghul would either know the language himself, have someone on his staff who did or could contact someone for a translation.

Given that Zatara was a member of the Justice League, it was likely that he would be able to translate the message but, if he wasn't on the initial response team, it could take a few hours. Hopefully by then his bio-dad will have seen the message and left instructions for their little chat at the location he specified before the League could catch up with the two of them. As far as he was concerned, the Justice League had no place in this 'discussion' going on between him and his bio-dad. He'd made sure that no civilians had been hurt and the only ones that'd died had been League of Shadows members so it was all nice and clean. Sure, he knew that by their 'superhero rules' he had crossed the line by killing at all but then he didn't consider himself a superhero, nor did he have any intention of changing this in the future. He saw himself as a warrior and, for a warrior, lethal force was always an option. It wasn't the first one brought to bear against a new opponent but, if it became clear that there was no other way to end the threat, then it was permissible.

If the choice came down to one dead guilty person or ten dead innocent people, the choice was clear.

Too bad the members of the Justice League wouldn't see it that way.

They were so wrapped up in adhering to the public's idea of what a superhero should be that they failed to realize that such behavior contributed to the problem.

Still, there's a chance they won't connect me to this so unless they drop irrefutable proof in my lap and confront me I won't say a thing, he thought as he finished writing the message. If they do call me on it, though, I'll just point out the zero civilian deaths and ask them when the last time was that THEY took out six League of Shadow bases and two strongholds. If they have a problem with how I do business, tough shit.

Flying away, he began to think about how he'd turn the tables on his bio-dad when they met. It was a no brainer that Ra's will want to reassert his aura of supremacy after his demolition work and it'll need to be total. Probably mean something to mess with or take away his powers, so he had to start coming up with a strategy for overcoming that.

Good thing he was getting a lot better at strategy these days.

"Miss Romanov?" came the sound of Mister Wayne's latest secretary. "Mister Wayne would like to speak with you immediately."

"Tell him I'm on my way," she replied, not forgetting to add a light Russian accent to her voice.

Getting out of the chair, she did a quick check her sidearm and ammo supply to make sure she'd be ready if something 'unexpected' happened between now and returning to her duties after meeting with Mister Wayne. As head of security she hadn't received any reports of suspicious characters showing up within five blocks of the Wayne Tech building, nor had the IT security division told her of any threatening hacking attempts on the buildings systems. Even the new aerial surveillance division hadn't reported any unusual aircraft activity or odd human blips on the cutting edge radar system. Internal security forces were also not saying anything was going on, so, as far as she knew, it'd be another peaceful day at the office.

That didn't mean she wasn't going to be prepared in case someone EXTRA sneaky managed to change that.

Even though she'd given the entire building a once over for weaknesses in security and done her best to plug the holes she found, that didn't mean it'd be impossible to get into it unnoticed. It just meant that whoever or whatever got in was seriously skilled or seriously advanced.

Exiting her office, she turned to her second in command and said, "Wayne wants to speak with me. Stay sharp until I get back."

"You got it, boss lady." Tatsu said with her usual lack of professionalism.

She didn't even bother to roll her eyes this time at the young woman who was only a little older than her because she'd accepted that no manner of lecturing or punishment was going to break the Japanese woman into acting like a security second in command. The important parts, being able to kick ass and keep an eye out for trouble, were there but when it came to following security protocols or acting with the proper decorum? Not so much. Tatsu knew about all the security measures scattered throughout the building, knew how to access them and use them to counter a problem, but that knowledge was less stable without knowing the procedures and protocols. She'd had more than one meeting with Mister Wayne wherein he emphasized that her second in command needed to follow the playbook instead of making up her own. The only reason that she hadn't pressed the matter was because since Tatsu had been hired, she'd managed to stop three infiltration attempts by NOT following the proper protocols and procedures. She was pretty sure that Mister Wayne knew this as well and that was why he hadn't taken more aggressive steps to correct matters, but she still figured she should have a sit down with the Japanese girl and get her to memorize at least HALF of the procedures.

As she walked down the hall to the elevator, she looked at each security personnel member and mostly got the 'everything is cool' nod from them but from one or two she got a glare added on. Even months after she'd been assigned the position of head of Wayne Tech security, there were still a few members of the old guard who didn't like her. Not that she entirely blamed them since she'd come out of nowhere to be given the job while they'd been employed by the company for years, so having seniority ignored when choosing someone for the position must've pissed them off. She'd even brought this little tidbit to Mister Wayne's attention when he'd told her he wanted her to be his chief of security. He'd told her that while the others did indeed have seniority, none of them could match her in terms ability both mentally as well as physically. Besides that, Mister Wayne had told her that she had the 'mental flexibility' to handle some of the more unusual criminals that tended to gravitate towards Gotham in particular and him occasionally.

She couldn't argue with him there.

Getting into the elevator and pressing the button for the top floor, she put her thumb to the fingerprint reader so the system the elevators were attached to would authorize her to go where she needed to go. A lot of people, mostly Mister Wayne's guests, found it inconvenient and bothersome but to her it was a necessary step to keep her boss safe. It necessitated that a senior member of the security team escort the guests up to meet with the company's owner, thus both keeping an eye on them just in case they tried something and to protect them in case an aerial threat made it through the defenses. She'd tested each senior member of the security force, both in terms of marksmanship and hand to hand combat, to make sure they could handle some of the deadlier residents of Gotham. In the end she found that while they wouldn't be able to handle one of Batman's heavy hitter enemies, they could tangle with any normal mob enforcer or tough guy.

If one of the members of Batman's rogues gallery showed up, she knew of at least five ways to get to Mister Wayne's office in under a minute from any place in the building.

She'd timed herself each time.

When the elevator opened it revealed that the entire top floor was pretty much Mister Wayne's office, with only what looks like a pane of glass with the Wayne Tech logo painted on it. What most people didn't know was that the 'glass' was actually a cutting edge material that could stand up to most handheld firearms and a few low-level explosives. If any guests somehow managed to make it up to this level and started opening up trying to kill Mister Wayne, they'd either be disappointed or knocked on their butts by their own explosives. If an airborne threat somehow managed to enter Mister Wayne's office, all he needed to do was make it to the other side of the barrier and he'd have enough time to get in the elevator as well as gain some respectable lead time.

The secretary saw her and immediately pressed the button on her intercom interface. "Miss Romanov is here Mister Wayne."

"Thank you, Shelly. Let her in and then activate privacy mode, will you?" Mister Wayne said without looking away from the window overlooking Gotham.

"Certainly, Mister Wayne," Shelly said before releasing the intercom button and pressing the one that'd open the door built into the barrier.

Walking through the door, she didn't look back because she knew that once it closed behind her, the material would turn completely opaque just like the window Mister Wayne was looking through did ahead of her. In addition to sound dampening systems, EM jamming fields and other gizmos, no one who wasn't in the office right now would know what was discussed. A lot of people would see this as a potential weakness since if someone meaning the rich man harm managed to get this far, they could pretty much do whatever they wanted without anyone knowing a thing.

What only a handful of people, herself included, knew was that it was in this dead zone no one could peer into that Bruce Wayne could cut loose and be who he really was.

The Batman of Gotham City.

The fact that he wanted to speak with her with the privacy setting turned on meant that what he'd be talking to her about was for their ears only. While it was possible that it was related to her job as head of Wayne Tech security, she couldn't think of any upcoming event that would require a private meeting. Add to that the fact that the past week had been quiet at virtually all Wayne Tech properties in Gotham city and she didn't think it was about the job, so that could only mean it was about her 'off hours'.

Ever since the two of them had first met one another, first come to their agreement, she'd been on a sort of probation with the Batman. Despite what'd probably been his first inclination, he hadn't thrown her in prison for what she'd done but he had made it clear that he would not tolerate her killing any longer. That'd been okay with her since she'd finished her quest for revenge, having slain everyone that Wilkins had hired that day to kill everyone still in Sunnydale that she'd had feelings for. Instead of turning her in, he'd offered her a different path, a path more in line with his concept of right and wrong, and not having anything better to do she'd taken him up on the offer. First had come training, probably his way of getting a better handle on precisely what she was capable of, and after that he'd provided her with a new costume as well as non-lethal gear shaped like her old gear. It all worked under the same basic principles and could be operated the same way but the difference was that it was all non-lethal. From there every night she wanted to go out to bring the hurt to the scum of Gotham City, she went with a chaperone in the form of Batman or his sidekick, Robin.

She had another month or so before her probationary period was over with and they'd let her patrol solo, though.

"So what's with the meeting, Bruce?" she asked, figuring she didn't need to keep up the 'professional employee' act going any longer.

"Three days ago someone began to launch a series of attacks on suspected League of Shadows bases. Preliminary investigations by the League point towards the attacker overpowering and killing almost every person inside," Bruce replied before pointing a remote at his big ass display screen and pressing a button.

Several pictures cycled through in the screen, with each one staying put for no more than five seconds before the next one came on.

"I don't need to tell you that members of the League of Shadows are amongst the deadliest assassins on the planet and even their rank and file members have kills in the double digits," he said as he continued to cycle through the pictures. "To take down these hidden bases without suffering casualty would take a sizeable team with black ops training and access to tech comparable to what the League possesses."

"Maybe one of their higher ranked people is cleaning house? Getting rid of a few disloyals while destroying any damaging evidence?" she asked, proposing the first thing to come to mind.

"Anyone not loyal to Ra's Al Ghul is killed within hours of confirming their disloyalty. He'd never let their numbers grow large enough to fill six of his bases and two of his strongholds," he replied, dismissing the possibility immediately.

"Any chance one of the alphabet agencies or someone in the military found out where to look and decided to take them down?" she asked, turning to the next most likely possibility.

"I've checked with my contacts in the military as well as all taps on the movements of their more dangerous squads. The military didn't do this and neither did any federal agency."

"Must be a freelancer then. Anyone who has an issue with the League of Shadows wouldn't send their own people and risk reprisals from Ra's," she said, coming to a conclusion of her own. "They'd send someone dependable but not known for working for them."

"Anyone capable of doing this would've already been made a member of the League of Shadows by now or would've been under surveillance for just such a possibility," he said, shooting down her theory yet again. "Whoever did this did it for personal reasons and possesses electromagnetic abilities. More specifically the ability to manipulate metal with enough skill and power to render any defense the Shadows had useless."

"What makes you say that?" she asked even as a little ping popped up in her mind at a possibility.

Another click of a button and a split image of two craters appeared on the screen but it took her a few seconds to see signs of structures that USED to be there. It was hard to tell the dimensions of the former structures but there was some serious stonework involved, making her think old stone fort and, add a few modern weapons, and stronghold was definitely the word for it. The level of destruction implied that a great deal of explosives were used or, if Bruce was right, the person with electromagnetic powers had serious temper tantrums at both.

"Which one was hit first?" she asked, trying to form a picture of how things happened inside her head.

"They were both hit simultaneously from projectiles fired from the upper atmosphere. Watchtower sensors picked up an electromagnetic disturbance in geosynchronous orbit above each stronghold that flared up for a bit before two projectiles were sent down towards them. Both were going well past what could've been achieved naturally but no sign of a device or aircraft was detected." he replied as a summary of the sensor readings showed up in the corner of the screen. "Based on this evidence, we believe that the person responsible employed a method referred to as kinetic bombardment. It's when an object is dropped from high orbit and its destructive force comes from the kinetic energy of the projectile impacting its target at very high velocities. Tungsten rods were most likely the ammunition used and the damage at each stronghold is consistent with idea used for 'Project Thor'."

"Bet Ra's didn't see that coming," she said, impressed at the unique method of demolishing an enemy's base.

Or not so unique because that ping from earlier was back stronger than before.

"No, he didn't. However this act of aggression is not going to go unanswered by him or the League of Shadows. In their line of business, weakness cannot be shown and if someone hurts them then they have to kill that person to retain their standing in the criminal underworld." he said, sounding opposed to the perp who did all this. "This needs to be stopped before it escalates or innocent people will be caught in the crossfire."

"I take it you have an idea who's going all 'rod from god' on the League of Shadows?" she asked, deciding to move things along.

Another press of a button and an image appeared on the screen that caused her expression to change but she suppressed it as quickly as she could.

"Lex Lensherr, founder and sole employee of Forge Industries, responsible for a number of technological innovations and, until a few months before we met, supporter of the vigilante known as Flamebird." he said, rattling off what he probably considered relevant facts. "Since her death at the hands of Doctor Light there've been a number of strong electromagnetic disturbances and evidence suggests that a superhuman caused them rather than some form of magic or technology."

"What makes you think Lex Lensherr is responsible for these disturbances?" she asked, doing her best not to give away any tells. "You must have something more than the disturbances beginning around the same time Flamebird died."

"I do. Operating under the premise that he is the one generating the electromagnetic disturbances, I tracked his movements via his bank transactions, supplementing those with any orders placed by Forge Industries." The image on the screen changed to a map of America. "Using them I was able to confirm that he stayed in New Haven, Connecticut during the dimensional breach involving the daughter of Trigon. More recently there's been a rumor of an archer using trick arrows similar to Green Arrows in Paolo Alto. I looked into it and the archer spontaneously started using those arrows where before she'd only used normal wooden ones. It implies that she did not create the trick arrows but rather had someone else manufacture them for her. When added to the disturbances that occurred relatively close by to Paolo Alto, it lends credibility to the theory that Lex Lensherr is a superhuman and is responsible for these incidents."

I knew that Bruce would eventually put two and two together but I didn't think it'd be this soon, she thought as she prepared herself for what she KNEW was coming. Still, it doesn't change what needs to be said and done.

"While I'm glad to hear you're as good a detective as always, is there a point to this exposition of evidence?" she asked, deciding to nudge Bruce out of beating around the bush.

"One of the first things I did after you accepted my offer was perform a background check with all the resources at my disposal. It didn't take me long to determine you'd had surgery done to alter your appearance from what you'd been born with and that you'd acquired a fake identity. Top quality work but still not beyond my ability to identify," he replied turning to her after turning off the display screen. "Using your first confirmed win, I canvassed the surrounding area for any recent murders that would match the M.O of the assassins you fought. I found a few partial matches but nothing more. I then began to ask around to find out if there'd been any location where the majority of your targets had been in the same place only a few months prior. Sunnydale."

Damn, she thought as she listened to him spoon feed her some deductive reasoning to show how he'd figured her out.

"It didn't take long to find the rash of murders that fit the parameters. All except one," he said, looking at her with eyes just as intimidating as the white ones he had with the cowl. "Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third. The other murders were quick, clean and professional. His death was more brutal. From there it was fairly easy to find the common link: Buffy Anne Summers. Her record implies a troubled youth, a problem child who gets into fights and doesn't study, but some research on Sunnydale provides another possibility. Boca del Inferno, loosely translated as mouth of hell, and according to Zatara a hotspot for demonic and paranormal activity. Buffy Summers was aware of this and was doing what she could to fight against it. When added to the rumors of a single power running the town that vanished around the same time Wilkins was killed, the rest fell into place. Who was he, Buffy?"

"For the record, he wasn't just Richard Wilkins the Third; he was also the second and the first. He was the warlock who originally founded Sunnydale," she replied, knowing there'd be no point lying now. "He created the town to serve as his springboard for Ascension. It's a difficult mystical process whereby a magic user can transform themselves into a pure demon, an Old One. FYI, with only a few exceptions, just about every demon on Earth right now is at least half-human or half something local to this dimension. Old Ones, according to a… friend… were King Kong sized monsters. I knew that if he was allowed to accomplish his goal a lot of people would die, so I decided to remove him from the picture. According to the information on the Ascension, when the person doing it reaches the end they're not even remotely human anymore, it's all skin deep, with no soul and abilities no human has. I did as much research as I could but then time ran out."

"What happened?" he asked in an analytical manner.

"We… my friend and I… found out that once Wilkins devoured the contents of the Box of Gavvrok and the ninety day countdown to the big day began, Wilkins would be impervious to harm. You could shoot him, blow him up, set him on fire or dunk him in acid and he'd regenerate in seconds." Her mind went back to those days. "Strategically I knew it'd be more trouble that it'd be worth to let him Ascend so I chose to attack and kill him beforehand. Loaded up on magical wards and potions along with my usual load out before taking off to take him down. Permanently. The fight pretty much went as expected but in the end I managed to nail the kill shot. However with his dying breath… he revealed that he'd anticipated this outcome and made sure I'd lose everything just like I had. I didn't need a second to figure out what he meant.

"I raced home but it was too late. Mom… Mom was dead and the killer gone," she explained, the pain in her heart still present despite the passage of time. "I ran around as fast as I could to the homes of every other person I cared about but the result was always the same. Blood and death, leaving me with nothing but a heart that'd been torn to shreds. After that all I had was revenge. I liquidated my family assets, gathered more funds elsewhere, made the necessary preparations for the hunt and then tracked down every last person responsible for what I'd lost. You know the rest."

"My research also uncovered that Buffy Summers, you, were close to two other students at your high school. One of them, Alexander LaVelle Harris, matches Lex Lensherr almost precisely, with only minor cosmetic differences," he said, finally getting to the heart of the matter. "Is he the one who did this? Does he have those powers?"

"I've suspected for a while that he's gained electromagnetic powers," she replied, keeping her answer short. "As for whether or not he attacked the League of Shadows, I'd say yes, unless you know of another superhuman with electromagnetic abilities. Before you get the wrong idea about him, though, Xander would only attack the League of Shadows if he was strongly provoked by them. If they've pissed him off… decide if you want to get in his way bad enough to bring in some Justice League heavy hitters. If you don't want to take him down that badly then just keep your distance."

"He's that powerful?" he asked, still sounding like he was analyzing everything she said along with her body language tells.

"If he's inherited the level of power I think he has and the control to go with it, then anyone not invulnerable, wearing a power ring or capable of bringing the hurt without a speck of metal to their name won't stand a chance." she replied, not elaborating any more than that. "If you get in the way of teaching the League of Shadows a lesson, he'll give you two choices: move or be moved. He won't be gentle about it, either."

"You seem to know a lot about his powers. Did he get them the same way you received yours?" he asked, narrowing his eyes a bit.

"Partially," she replied since most of what she could do was because she was the Slayer rather than the Halloween spell that were the source of Xander's add ons.

"And you know what he can do?" he asked, digging a little deeper.

"I have a good idea. Some firsthand info along with secondary and tertiary," she replied without going into detail.

"I'll need to know the strengths and weaknesses of his powers. How much he can lift? What metals react strongest-" he began to ask, instantly going into strategy building mode.

"No." she said as bluntly and strongly as she could without raising her voice.

"He's killed people, Buffy. If he's planning on revenge against the League of Shadows then this is likely the tip of the iceberg." he said, pointing out why she had to tell him what she knew. "Sooner or later innocent people will be hurt. He needs to be stopped."

"No. I respect and even admire your ethical and moral stance, Bruce, but in this case, even you must admit that anything resembling a solution under the law about the League of Shadows is ludicrous at best and hypocritical at worst. They murder, ruin lives and cause conflicts all in line with the genocidal great plan of Ra's Al Ghul. Xander knows this. And they likely tried to harm someone precious to him. After losing Flamebird here in Gotham, he must have made a simple but to the point oath."

"What oath?" he asked, waiting attentively for the answer she'd give him.

"'Never again'," she replied before giving him a look that made it clear that would be all she'd give him on Xander.

For a minute she watched as he tried to use every non-verbal and non-violent intimidation method he knew to try and get her to submit everything she knew about Xander but she didn't budge. Xander, Cordy and Willow were the three final precious things she had in this world and she would not betray them to anyone for any price. If Xander was going to war with the League of Shadows, then he had a damn good reason for it and she'd be hypocritical to get in his way after what she'd done. She hoped he hadn't changed so much from the person she'd known back in the 'dale that he'd endanger or even kill innocent people to get his payback. However, if the only people that'd die would be members of the League of Shadows… then she wished him the best of luck and hoped he knew that while very powerful, Magneto was not undefeatable.

"You may resume your duties, Miss Romanov," Mister Wayne said before pressing a button on his remote that returned the not-glass barrier and his window to normal along with everything else.

"As you wish, Mister Wayne," she said before turning around and walking through the door that had been opened for her.

Entering the elevator to return to her office, she resolved to monitor Bruce Wayne and Batman's movements over the next few days to see if he would take her advice or had sent in the Justice League. If it turned out to be the former, then she would simply conduct herself as she had since becoming head of Wayne Tech security. If it turned out to be the latter, she would do what she could to aid Xander without completely betraying Mister Wayne and his allies.

She owed her friend that and more.

I hope he isn't planning on making me wait too much longer, he thought as he took another drink from his water canteen. I'm almost out of water.

He'd arrived about an hour ago, thirty minutes before the meeting time he'd specified in his message outside the stronghold, and so far he hadn't sensed anything indicating someone else was heading to the same spot. Fingering his little 'surprise' beneath his cape, he wondered how his bio-dad was going to handle the situation. He'd already proven that with or without metal on them he could take down his rank and file minions pretty easily. At the moment he had the inside of his cape lined with little feather shaped blades that he could deploy at a moment's notice and, when combined with his little surprise, he hoped it'd be enough to turn the tables on whatever Ra's had planned for him.

He'd chosen the middle of the Mojave Desert specifically because it'd ensure that no civilians would get caught up in the fight if the Demons' Head decided to react violently to the damage done to his assets. He'd extended his E.M. perception as far as he dared so that he'd know the moment anything moved closer to his position, whether it was a person or some sort of unmanned drone. To a person walking towards him they might sense a slight sensation of energy in the air but, unless they'd seen him do this trick before, they wouldn't know what to make of it. At half the range his perception had been extended to he'd be able to solidify an E.M. barrier capable of protecting him with a thought. So unless Ra's had some sort of sci-fi gun that could fire a bullet that would disappear after it left the barrel and reappear less than a foot from his head, he'd be able to handle the first salvo. After that he'd erect a compact sphere barrier around himself with enough energy in it that, even if they fired something non-metallic at it, nothing would get through.

He knew for a fact that if he wanted to, Magneto could fire off blasts of heat or electricity at the expense of tiring himself out quickly. He wasn't entirely certain if he could do the same only to fare better but it'd be a good ace up the sleeve just in case his usual bag of tricks didn't and the little surprise he prepared crapped out. He'd have to save it for absolute emergencies where the alternative was death or capture since, in the case of the latter, he was pretty sure that torture and brainwashing would follow.

As he gazed about the area once more with both his eyes and his E.M. senses, he decided that this must be Ra's' countermove: ignore the child. He'd been hoping for something a little more along the lines of a small army of League assassins springing up out of the sand or a strafing run by cutting edge aircraft. Even if those things would be a pain in the ass to deal with, it'd confirm that he had indeed managed to get under his bio-dad's skin, or at least provoke a meeting between the two of them. This… ignoring… however, was not what he wanted and he refused to sit around like some obedient son waiting for his father's permission to leave.

Rising to his feet, he prepared to take to the air, head back to civilization and begin hunting down the next batch of hidden bases and strongholds. Sooner or later the cost of ignoring him would prove to be too much for even the leader of the League of Shadows to stomach and then Ra's would have no choice but to meet with him. Like most evil organizations, the one in charge had to have power of one sort or another in order to keep those who served them obedient. If he proved that Ra's could not stop him, that he had the potential to tear down his bio-dad's empire, then the minions would turn on their ruler believing perhaps they, too, could rise above their assigned stations. The Demon's Head would not allow that and so, before the point of no return was reached, he'd get his meeting and make it clear to Ra's that, while he was a valid target, those he cared for were NOT.

Just as his feet left the ground he felt a disturbance in the planet's E.M. field directly behind him but, before he could even turn to see what it was, he was sucked backwards, the world distorting in his eyes. No… not just the world… he could feel HIMSELF distorting! Like he'd entered a place where matter and energy were so much more pliable than he could've ever dreamed, he could feel his body fluidly drifting further and further from humanoid shape. If he remained in realm much longer, he would perish or cease to be who and what he was forever more.

NO! he thought in defiance of this defeat. I will not let it end this way! I will not have my future stolen!

With will and resolve born of many trials, he rejected the changes that this unknown realm was attempting to work upon him and focused utterly on his true form. Not just the image of himself that he'd seen in the mirror after getting out of the shower but also the power he possessed and the knowledge his mind contained. As though every element of what made him who he was took the form of a point of light in the sky, he willed the heavens to change to match his will. No force could stop him! NOTHING could stand against him! He would endure and he would THRIVE! Then, bit by bit, the heavens heeded his command and the stars that made up the night sky assembling into a configuration to match the one he desired.

It was just as the world snapped back to what could be considered reality that the stars finished falling into place and, with the sudden weight of will and resolve gone, he was left gasping on a stone floor.

"What happened, Klarion?" a voice asked with his mind unable to make the connection between it and a person just yet. "I asked that you bring my son here unharmed."

"Kid's got the touch of chaos about him. Janus' work, from the feel of it," 'Klarion' answered in his high pitched, nasally voice. "He got stuck in transit for a second but he's here now right? Alive and awake, if not steady in the head just yet."

Working past the exhaustion that was fading from his body, he looked up to see that he was no longer in the desert but rather an underground temple or stronghold of some kind. Looked Asian in nature and the slight feeling of coldness made him think that the temperature outside was decidedly on the below zero side of the thermostat. Turning his head towards the direction of the voices, he saw three people, no, four, but he only recognize two of them. Ra's Al Ghul and his ever present bodyguard Ubu. The other two was a woman in her early to mid-thirties by his guess, wearing a tastefully chosen dress that matched the scenery in terms of style, and a guy that looked to be his own age but dressed in a suit. The latter seriously twigged him as wrong with his hair curved up into horns on either side of his head, the pointy ears and what looked like black claws instead of fingernails. The cat didn't feel right either but he wasn't much of a cat person to be honest, so he didn't linger on the feline all that long.

As soon as he felt strong enough he planted one foot on the ground, moving from being on all fours to being in a crouched position. When he was stronger he managed to stand up, even if he was shakier than he would've preferred given his present company. Even though he wasn't in the best of shape, he did what he could to keep his little surprise hidden beneath his cape so that it couldn't be seen. Given what could happen in the next few minutes, it might turn out to be the only thing that kept him from a very unpleasant fate.

"Your strength returns swiftly, my son. Good. Good." Ra's said from his throne a few dozen feet ahead. "I apologize for using such unconventional means to meet with you but I thought it best to have the meeting on my terms rather than yours."

"You could've just had someone tell me where to go," he said, his voice mirroring his recovering body. "I'd have come."

"Yes, I'm sure you would have, but only when you felt yourself sufficiently armed for a confrontation," Ra's said with a conceding nod. "Only a fool would allow such a confrontation to occur on his enemy's choice of location, so I changed the venue before you could properly prepare."

If I'd known he was capable of teleporting someone, I would've looked into setting up some wards or buying some talismans from a reputable magic shop, he thought as the last length of fatigue began to leave him. Still, I guess there's a chance this can all end peacefully. Not a great chance but a chance just the same.

"I can tell this is already going to get boring quick so I'll be going now," the devil boy said as a circular crimson portal opened to his right. "See you at the next meeting, Ra's!"

With that the boy and his cat stepped through the portal before it shut behind him.

Meeting? Did he really want to know? No. It was probably just more assassin and eco-terrorist stuff that wouldn't interest him.

"Well, since I'm not a big fan of boring, I'll cut right to the chase," he said, deciding to take the initiative rather than let his bio-dad seize it. "I know you sent that black ops old man to kill Artemis as an example of what'd happen in the future if I didn't do as I was told like a good son should. I was quite unhappy with you and still am, to be perfectly honest. I wanted to talk to you but you didn't leave your phone number, so I decided on an alternate way to force a meeting."

"Well, I would have to say that you accomplished your goal, so speak your piece and I shall speak mine." Ra's said, sounding like he approved of the method.

"My piece is simple: I'm fair game but if you or your people hurt or kill someone I care about, I will burn your League to the ground and personally END you. I don't care if one of the members of your League takes action without your direct orders. You're the one in charge of the League of Shadows, their king, so that makes you responsible for what they do." He put all resolve and all the potential retribution he could into his voice and it showed. "You got 'employees' that go off on their own without your say so? Make it clear to them such behavior will not be tolerated any longer. If that doesn't work… do what your League does best. Clear?"

"Quite. Now while I agree that 'employees' who exercise their talents without my permission is frowned upon, I see no harm in it so long as it does not impact my plans. Whether their targets die now or later when their sacrifice is needed for a pure and balanced Earth, it matters little in the end." Ra's said imperiously, countering his resolve with his words. "On the matter of those you care for, consider it a lesson on the absolute truths of this world. Without power you cannot protect anything. Unless you are prepared to do whatever it takes, no matter how contrary to conventional morality it may seem, then your loved ones will never be safe. If you must be made to experience pain once more to accept these truths then, while regrettable, I shall do what I must."

"Then I guess there's only one thing left to do," he said as he prepared to strike the first blow.

"So it would seem," Ra's said, not sounding concerned in the least.

Giving little if any warning, he magnetically fired the feather shaped mini-blades from beneath his cape, aiming at all the vital points on his bio-dad's body. However, with the press of a button built into the throne Ra's was sitting on, his weapons of death suddenly lost their speed and dropped to the ground at his feet. At first he thought that there was some sort of energy field that robbed his blades of their kinetic energy but as the seconds passed he felt a… weight… of some sort on his magnetic powers. Physically he could still move but, when he tried to use his powers to lift the blades from the floor so that they could continue on to their destination, they didn't do more than flutter a bit no matter what he did.

"Come now, Alexander. Did you really think I would allow you in my presence without evening the odds a bit?" Ra's said as he rose from his throne and took off his green cape. "As soon as my sources determined you possessed electromagnetic abilities, I ordered the construction of a device that would emit a powerful suppression field to restrain them. As you can see, my scientists do very good work. Shall we begin?"

Seeing his bio-dad unsheathe a sword, he realized that he was going to have to play his ace a lot sooner than he'd hoped because, while Magneto was skilled in many things, defeating a swordsman unarmed was not one of them. With a balance of speed and control he pulled out his hastily constructed but pistol shaped version of Herman Schultz' vibro-shock units before firing a shot at Ra's. It wasn't pretty what he'd cobbled together but it worked as intended and, thanks to the accompanying power source, he'd have thirty minutes of continuous use before it stopped working. He hoped by then he'd have done enough damage to the surrounding area to knock the suppression devices offline so he could regain full use of his magnetic powers. Sadly, as he saw his bio-dad advance towards him, he discovered that the man was quite adept at evading the blasts from his vibro-gun. He imagined Ra's had quite a bit of experience evading normal gunfire from expert marksman and that was something he was not, so it'd be even easier.

Fortunately he'd taken that into account when he'd made the weapon.

With the press of a button he changed the discharge from focused blast to wide area affect. It'd halve the time before the power source ran out but it'd make dodging that much harder for Ra's and therefore keep him safe. It worked, too, since it succeeded in knocking his bio-dad off his feet but the older man proved to be quite agile and managed to land in a crouch rather than on his back. Seeing as he had a brief respite, he quickly surveyed the room they were in and then fired a blast at where he hoped something to do with the suppression field generator was located. He did an impressive amount of damage but the 'weight' still remained on him, making any combat use of his power impossible for the moment. He quickly refocused his attention back on Ra's as the leader of the League of Shadows was once more advancing forward, albeit more cautiously.

From there it became a game of reading tells, trying to out-feint the other person and pressing the advantage when an opening presented itself. Unfortunately, while he considered himself to be rather fit, he hadn't had serious physical conditioning consistent with a real martial artist or soldier in his entire life. Sure, fighting alongside Buffy back in Sunnydale had helped but, since he'd left his hometown, he'd let his physical conditioning and exercise routines slip quite a bit. He was still fit enough to be given the appreciative eye by the ladies at the beach but not fit enough to have the stamina needed for long term physical exertion. As a result, while he was still managing to keep himself alive, all the moving about was bringing the fatigue back and that was not good.

And now for something a little nuts! he thought as he pulled off the belt connected to the vibro-gun, pressed a button and then threw it in Ra's' general direction.

As he predicted, his bio-dad used his sword to cut through the item but this was what he wanted because, aside from looking ugly, another flaw in his creation was that the stability of the power source was iffy. If he'd been given more time to work on it, he probably could've made it safer AND last longer but he'd been in a bit of a rush so he'd taken what he could get out of the time he had. As a result, as soon as the regulator components were destroyed, the power source exploded, knocking both combatants back a good fifty yards and probably creating some nasty bruises in the process. Fortunately for him, though, he'd created his costume with some protective elements to take the edge off of any physical blows dealt to his person. He'd still be sore later and probably need an ice pack, but Ra's would be the worse off in the bruising department.

Now Ra's said suppression and restraint not elimination outright, he thought as he began to reach for all he was worth for the power he'd gained that awful night so many months ago. That means that if I can't destroy them with precision shots, I just have to overpower the whole system. It'll basically be like someone snapping the ropes they're tied up with because they're stronger than the material the ropes are made out of.

With that in mind he dug deep into the power he possessed before pushing back against the 'weight' that was trying to suppress and restrain it.

Inch by metaphorical inch that which sought to take away what was his by right was forced into retreat.

Soon it would be defeated outright.

Resourceful AND prudent, he thought as he shook his head slightly to clear it. Not only did he construct a weapon that was both effective and unfamiliar where I am concerned, but he also devised a way to ensure that it could not be reverse engineered should he be captured. It's almost enough to make me wish that those traitors were still alive so that I could compliment them on their work. Almost.

As he advanced once more to do battle with his son, he noticed the look of intense concentration only partially concealed by the design of the helmet. An attempt to increase speed or reaction time? No, nothing he had learned about his son led him to believe that Alexander had received unarmed combat training to that degree. It was far more likely that the young man was attempting to counter the effects of the devices that at present were suppressing his magnetic abilities. Tactically it was a sound move since it was unlikely that his son was The Detective's match in unarmed combat and therefore was most certainly not his. Without his hastily constructed weapon, he was at a decided disadvantage so it was logical to try to reclaim the one advantage that could save him. Unfortunately for his son, when he'd had the magnetic field suppressors built, he'd ensured that all available information on the previous disturbances caused by Alexander were taken into account to determine his limits. Once those limitations had been determined, he'd ordered his scientists to ensure that the machine could suppress someone twice as powerful in order to keep any surprises from occurring.

It was a pity that this would be the end of the duel but his son had acquitted himself admirably and, once he realized he could be better with the proper tutelage, he would welcome his genetic heir to the fold.

When he was almost within striking distance for his blade, though, his eyes began to perceive arcs of electricity and an unusual distortion in the air around his son. Concerned, he hastened his pace and prepared to execute a slash that would render Alexander physically incapable of continuing the duel without doing permanent or fatal damage. However it was as he executed his slash that something unexpected occurred: the blade stopped a good three inches from his son's skin and was being held there by an invisible force. He tried twice to pull it free since only a fool disarmed himself recklessly, but the sword refused to budge. When his son's gaze rose so that his eyes were no longer obscured by his helmet, a look of mild to moderate surprise manifested on his face due to what he beheld. Energy, potent, electromagnetic energy, was leaking from the edges of Alexander's eyelids like water and growing more potent with every second that passed.

"Never… shoulda… underestimated… ME!" Alexander said with a mix of strain and anger. "RRRAAAAGGGHH!"

He wasn't quite sure what happened in the next few seconds but, when his mind righted itself, he found himself moments away from hitting the ground. Training endured through his centuries of life took effect as he immediately adapted to the situation to get his feet back under him by rolling with the momentum upon impact. Once his feet were firmly planted, he looked back in the direction he had come from and saw that once more his son's powers were at his disposal and a quick glance in the direction of the concealed locations of the suppression field generators confirmed they no longer functioned. Smoke and sparks emerged from where they were hidden, clearly indicating that they'd indeed been overwhelmed by the power of his likely heir.

Impressive.

"Indeed it seems that I shall have to have a word with my scientists. They assured me that they had accurately projected your limitations," he said as he began to devise a new strategy. "Clearly they were mistaken."

"I'm sure they'll do better with their next boss." Alexander said as he coasted ominously forward.

"There shall be no 'next boss' for them," he said, already determining an appropriate punishment for their failure.

"There will be when their current one gets a taste of the inferno." Alexander countered with the meaning as obvious as it was threatening.

"A bold threat. You may have reclaimed your full power, my son, but that does not mean that victory is yours." He began to use hand signals to convey something to Ubu while disguising it as him being at military parade rest. "Superhuman abilities, weapons, soldiers… they are all but tools of war and as such depend upon the mind of the one who controls them to attain victory. You are barely a young man while I… I have the wisdom of centuries."

As if waiting for the cue, all sources of illumination in the chamber went out, enshrouding everyone in darkness but, unlike the others, he was not as seriously debilitated as the others. One of the benefits of his longevity was that it enabled him to learn many styles of personal combat from a wide variety of cultures. One such style required that the practitioner fight without the use of his eyes, relying on his other senses to both find their foe and perceive their movements, and given that he defeated the unquestioned master of that era, he knew precisely where his son was located.

Unlike some he did not speak now that he had an advantage over his foe because, while not as skillfully, even an amateur would be able would be able to guess if given a voice to home in on.

There was the sound of displaced air and he repositioned himself two feet to the right, successfully evading what was likely a collection of the metal shards. Twice more this was done with the distance between a hit and a miss decreasing with every salvo before his son appeared to stop to reconsider his plan of attack. Wiser than those who repeatedly used the same failed method over and over again on the off chance it connected. Ceasing any movement that would produce sound, he waited to see what new strategy his son would employ to defeat him. Seconds ticked by but then he began to perceive a scraping noise that was unnaturally consistent, like someone rapidly scraping the tip of a sword against stone, having no apparent end and seeming to advance then retreat at regular intervals. Was his son probing for his position or using the sound to distract him? It was only when the sound of scraping suddenly advanced towards him at impressive speed that he discerned what Alexander had chosen to do.

A variation on what you did to defeat my scout team in Bobby Yen's building. He he fell into a series of backflips in order to maintain a safe distance. He's created a dome of his blades and is expanding it in all directions while propelling his weapons at such speeds that evasion is impossible without superhuman speed and reflexes.

It was a simple yet efficient way to counter not being able to see your opponent, especially considering that his son apparently was not yet skilled enough to precisely pinpoint a living organism's bio-electric field.

However, as he found out soon enough, as quick as he was moving away from the threat, the blades were moving quicker and would soon overtake him. Bringing both arms in front of his face to protect it, he soon felt great pain as the blades his son was manipulating began to tear into his flesh at great speed. He managed to endure most of it but some audible sign of injury must have reached Ubu because a moment later the illumination of the chamber returned. It did confirm his theory on what his son had done to turn the tide but it also negated his advantage of sight and implied that his bodyguard thought he could not win in spite of his injuries.

He would have to educate Ubu on the truth later.

Getting back to his feet, he found that his arms had essentially been rendered useless as many of the muscles required to move them had been shredded by the airborne blades. Blood loss would soon become a problem and, if he did not receive medical care shortly, he would likely perish, requiring submersion in the Lazarus Pit. He was about to concede the duel to his son when a fist comprised of a multitude of reshaped miniature blades slammed into his stomach with force equal to a professional heavyweight boxer. Unprepared for it, he felt the wind knocked out of him but curiously did not feel his skin being cut or pierced, implying that Alexander had positioned each piece of the 'fist' so that no sharp edges made contact with his body. Again and again he was struck until the final one actually succeeded in sending him THROUGH the back of his throne, breaking the stone and leaving him with quite a few fractured or broken bones. Coughing up blood, his consciousness began to fade but he was still able to see his son's caped form float into his field of vision with a collection of shape metal shards poised to kill him.

"Here's hoping the next Demon's Head is wise enough not to piss me off," Alexander said as the shards retreated slightly in preparation for a thrust.

"NO!" exclaimed a female voice before a body threw itself across his to act as a shield.

It only took him a second to realize it was his daughter, Talia.

"Move, woman. I have no grievance against you but if the only way those I care about are to remain safe is for Ra's to die, then so be it." Alexander said without a hint of weakness.

It made him feel pride.

"Then I will ensure he does not harm any who are precious to you!" Talia declared with a surprising amount of resolve.

"And who are you to have such influence over him and his forces?" Alexander asked doubtfully.

"Talia Al Ghul. His daughter and your older half-sister." Talia replied with fire in her eyes.

"That proves only that you likely hold the power and influence to oppose any actions he takes against those I care for." Alexander said with no sign if his half-sister's words were affecting him. "But do you have the will? Do you have the will to oppose and defy Ra's Al Ghul, knowing that there may be harsh repercussions for opposing him?"

"I do," Talia replied, resolve in her voice and on her face.

Silenced reigned for a minute as Alexander no doubt weighed the words of his half-sister but, when the sharp metal shards withdrew beneath his son's cape, he took that as a sign that his hand had been successfully stayed for the time being.

"Cherish and protect my half-sister, Ra's Al Ghul. She just saved your life." Alexander said with strength and warning. "Pray she never comes to harm, or worse, dies, because if that happens I will hold you personally responsible and we will pick up where we left off."

With that his son flew out of his field of vision and consciousness became harder to hold onto but he did not mind. Even if he should die, his loyal followers would place him in the Lazarus Pit to restore him to life, allowing him to resume his quest to save the Earth. More than that, he now had his son's full measure and could not be more proud. No, it was not the power or the skill, per se, that made him proud. There were enough of those in the world and even The Detective surpassed his son in the latter by a considerable degree. No, it was the willingness to act, to do whatever was necessary to protect what was most dear to him, that made him proud of his son Alexander. None of the so-called 'heroes' of the Justice League had the will to do what was necessary in order to protect the innocent and foolishly believed that 'there is always another way' when it came to lethal force.

His son was not foolish.

As he lost consciousness, he made a mental note to inform the other members of The Light that he would not be participating in any plan that ran the risk of harming his son or those he cared for. That would be the best he could hope to do for Alexander because, while he and the other members of The Light might have chosen to ally with one another for a common goal, they were still who they were. All of them had high opinions of themselves and an equal amount of pride, so being told what to do by another without some sort of personal benefit would not be received well.

Oh well. Once a member has outlived their usefulness, I can arrange for Alexander to be appropriately infuriated by them, was his last thought before losing consciousness. One less person to share the spoils of victory with.