"I just realized something!" Courtney called out to Alan Scott as she blasted the approaching Shiv with her Cosmic Staff.
Alan, who was in the midst of warding off Doctor Polaris with a green shield, glanced at her. "What?"
"Why are you here?" she asked, twirling her staff as she ducked under an attack from Cheetah. "If Savage intends to have the Era 2 Justice League murder those closest to them, why didn't he summon you too? You're the only member of the Lantern family that came on this mission!"
The first Green Lantern grimaced. "I don't know. There's something about Green Lantern that they were holding back about before they were captured. Whatever it is, it's probably why Savage didn't send him after me."
"Do you think they're alright?" Arrowette asked as she fired an arrow at Captain Cold, who quickly froze it with his Cold Gun. "How are they going to break through the mind control?"
Wildcat grunted as he exchanged blows with Atomic Skull. "We're just gonna have to have faith that they do. Those time travelers might be from the future an' stuff, but the people of this time are strong too. They'll survive. They'll win."
It wasn't clear who he was trying to convince more — everyone around him, or himself.
The very moment the lights went out, the rescuers split into two teams — Bruce and Dick on one, Tim and Cass on the other. Each team stood back-to-back to prevent any possible sneak attacks, each activating the night vision in their respective headsets. They scanned the area for Jason, but there was not so much of a whiff of wind or a subtle shift of the light. Wherever he was, he was hidden too well.
As time continued on and Jason continued to fail to appear, the vigilantes only became tenser, more paranoid. It was probably intentional, they all realized. Jason was a Bat too, he knew how to keep them off their game. All it would take was just one little shift, one out-of-place sound or shadow, and they'd attack wildly. So, despite all their instincts screaming at them not to, they forced themselves to relax to a more appropriate level of paranoia. One that wouldn't make them all jump at each other if they so much as sneezed.
Finally, after several more minutes, Jason made a move. A few pellets of knockout gas was dropped into the center of the room, between both teams. As a cloud spilled into the air and everyone scrambled to grab their gas masks to filter it out, Jason finally attacked — except, instead of Batman and Nightwing, like one would assume he would do, he went after Batgirl and Robin instead.
Robin froze when he saw the fist aimed directly for his face, but Batgirl saved him, her reflexes from both David Cain's training and years on the run serving her well. She pushed him out of the way and beginning engaging the third Batman in combat, as Bruce took out multiple flares and released them into the room to bring back some much-needed light into the room. Tim settled his gas mask onto his face as he gripped his bo-staff tighter and got up to join the fray.
He didn't get far. Jason must have sensed their intentions because in the midst of his battle with their sister, he smoothly drew out three smoke pellets, holding them between his fingers as he threw them. They exploded on contact with the ground, keeping the three of them at bay as they waited for the smoke to clear. By the time it did, it was already held too late. Jason had Cass by the throat and was slowly choking the life out of her.
How—shit, she didn't get the gas mask on in time! The cowl of the new Batgirl suit might have covered all of his sister's face but it was a poor substitute for a legitimate gas mask to filter out the air. Undoubtedly, some of the knockout gas had soaked into the fabric and had been inhaled by Cass. That would've weakened her enough for Jason to take advantage.
Feeling the guilt at knowing he was responsible for this, that Jason had only managed to do this because Cass had foregone putting her mask in favor of saving him, Tim charged in, careful to keep light on his feet. He could see the moment Jason noticed him, and ducked under the retaliatory back-swing as he rammed he slammed his bo-staff directly onto his arm with all his might. It wasn't enough to break the hold completely, but it weakened his grip enough for Cass to swing a kick to her much bigger opponent and force him to let go. She fell to her knees, taking deep breaths, as Tim guarded her.
At least until Jason practically sprinted forward towards them at near inhuman speeds. Neither of them had time to react before he was already there, harshly grabbing their heads and slamming them together, knocking them right out. Nightwing and Batman, who had been in the midst of running to aid their younger proteges, quickly threw their own batarangs to force him back while they recovered the two and took them to a corner of the room, where they could remain out of the way.
Once again, a stand-off ensued as they faced off against their brainwashed teammate. Nightwing once again brandished his escrima sticks while Batman held up his fists. Jason didn't assume any stance, just stood there with his cape cloaking him, much like Bruce would when not in combat. The air stilled.
"He was fast," Dick whispered to his father. "Too fast."
"It's the suit," Bruce grimly concluded. "Technology evolves a lot in one year. I can only imagine how far it went in several decades. I'll bet our entire fortune that suit enhances his body's capabilities — strength, speed, agility, reflexes — beyond their limits. We're going have to treat this as if we're fighting a metahuman."
"A metahuman that has the same training we do, knows all our tricks inside and out, and has access to technology that outdates ours by several decades," Dick quickly summed up, "Not really inspiring any confidence here, boss."
Bruce grunted. "We'll manage. We've got one thing on our side that he doesn't."
"And that is…?"
"There's one of him," Bruce started, running forward, with Dick following, "and two of us!"
Jason tensed as they approached him, his cape flaring outward as he started back-stepping to avoid Dick's strikes. He drew his own sticks from the side of his utility belt, stretching them out as he began striking back. The two danced around each other for a bit, until Jason was forced to disengage when Bruce entered the fray, jumping back to dodge an uppercut to the chin and ducking under a kick swung at his head. He quickly rolled in-between them, jumping to his feet and swinging his cape to hold them back for a bit as he configured his sticks together into a sword.
He expertly cut the sword in several swift movements before falling into a stance, both his hands gripping the hilt. This time, it was him taking the initiative, meeting his two predecessors head on. He jabbed the tip of his sword forward, forcing them to briefly separate to dodge the blow, and quickly spun on his heel and kicked Bruce in the chest with all his might, far to the other side of the room. Jason then glanced back at Nightwing, dropping to a half-crouch as he tried to sweep the shorter man's legs. Dick flipped over him, soaring high above his head and landing on the other side.
Dick spun one stick in his hand as he swung with the other, not losing his stride as Jason blocked it with one of his gauntlets. In a move reminiscent of the one Jason had made not too long ago (something not lost on Dick, which made it all too clear who Jason probably learned it from), he spun on his heel and attempted to kick Jason on the side. Unfortunately, it seems because Jason knew it, he had anticipated it, and it had been easy for him to grab Dick's leg. He quickly shoved the other vigilante away before swinging his sword in a wide arc, looking to decapitate him. Dick just barely managed to use his amazing flexibility to bend backwards to dodge the blow, the sword cutting off the very tips of his hair.
As he began panting at the close call, Jason took advantage and tried to slam his foot downward onto his chest. Dick barely rolled out of the way and got to his feet, but he was still too slow; his opponent darted forward, grabbing at his suit with one hand and elbowing him hard in the face with his other arm. The first Robin stumbled back as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his now bleeding nose, his situational awareness dropping to nonexistent levels as Jason slowly approached him to finish him off.
He didn't get the chance, as his other opponent tried to sneak up on him from behind and tackle him. Jason sensed it and moved to the side to avoid, but Bruce recovered quickly, falling into a roll and quickly getting back to his feet. The two men circled each other slowly, Jason separating his sword into its dual sword configuration. Eventually, as if some unseen bell rung, the two charged at each other. Jason swung with the right sword, aiming to cut off Bruce's head, and quickly flipped the left one into a reverse grip to block the incoming blow as his father dodged it and threw a punch in retaliation.
They struggled for a bit in a lock before Bruce jumped back to dodge another swing from Jason's other sword. Jason crossed the swords into an X-shape before sliding them against each other, slicing a similar symbol in the air. An intimidation gesture, Bruce quickly realized. Before his second son couldn't approach him, his eldest, his nosebleed stemmed by some plugs he kept on person, saddled up next to him, falling back into a fighting stance of his own. The two of them darted forward again.
But again, their efforts were fruitless. Jason was quick to separate them whenever he could, often using Dick's flashy flips as openings to accomplish that. Even when Dick quickly caught on and phased that out, Jason found new ways to keep them apart, not hesitating to use the full-force of his suit's capabilities against them. By the fifth time this happened, Bruce and Dick retreated and quickly regrouped.
"This isn't working!" Dick hissed.
Bruce grunted in agreement. "He knows our styles too well. And we don't know his well enough."
Dick frowned. He knew what Bruce meant. Memories of the past months, of both spars and missions with Jason flashed through his mind. Both of them had become well-acquainted with Jason's new fighting style, that mish-mash of all of their own styles, combined with a number of switching weapons. It was a weird, if effective, style that they had only just acclimated to.
There were elements of that style in the Jason they were facing right now, but the difference could be measured in magnitudes. The younger Jason focused on agility and speed to accommodate for his still growing body. This Jason, fully grown and with an entirely different suit, was starkly divorced from that. While he was still fast and agile, he was more focused on the sheer power that his body type afforded him. He was strong and he knew it, and he had no issues throwing that weight around. He didn't need to make multiple blows, just the one, and that one could be every bit as crippling as several of their best hits could be.
More than that, this Jason was completely and utterly pragmatic and downright vicious. While all Bats were no-nonsense to some degree in a fight, adult Jason seemed to take it a whole new level. He didn't hesitate to take advantage of an opening when it was given to him, and when he did, he did so with extreme prejudice, as Nightwing could attest to. They didn't know if this was a result of whatever mind control Savage had him under or his natural disposition or both, but it was proving to be very inconvenient for his family.
"That's why he took out Robin and Batgirl first," Bruce continued, breaking through Dick's thoughts.
"What do you mean? I mean, Batgirl is dangerous but she's inexperienced, and Robin's talents don't lie in combat." Even if he was getting better, they both knew that Tim was the worst fighter in this room — something that Jason, even in his current state, would be well aware of.
Bruce shook his head. "It's not their fighting ability he was worried about. It was their ability to analyze him."
Dick opened his mouth to ask for further elaboration, only to stop as realization hit him. "Batgirl's body-reading ability," he breathed out.
"Yes," Bruce agreed, nodding. "Batgirl would've been able to predict his moves and formulate a general idea of his fighting style. Had she managed to stay conscious, she might've even been able to counter it. And Robin's specialty is his detective skills and technology. He might've been able to figure out the finer points of Knight's suit, might've even found a way to disable it.
"It's like you said before: he knows all of our moves," Dick stopped for the moment to dodge another jab, this time from a bo-staff — it seemed Jason was sick of all the talking, "and we barely know his! That's his greatest advantage!"
"And it's an advantage that he won't discard unless he absolutely has to," Bruce concurred, blocking blows from the staff. "That's what any master strategist would do. He went after Batgirl and Robin first because he judged them to be the biggest threats, not us."
Dick shot forward, throwing one of his escrima sticks right at the back of Jason's head. Jason seemed to sense it, and dodged by simply tilting his head to the right, allowing the stick to hit the wall next to Bruce and fall harmlessly to the floor. Dick would bet his entire trust fund that his brother's helmet probably had some kind of inbuilt HUD that allowed him to sense incoming threats, including those aimed at his back. His situational awareness was insane, even for a Batman. "B," the first Robin called out again, "if this is a problem for us, wouldn't this be a problem for anyone fighting the future JL?"
"You think the others are fighting his teammates too?" Bruce called back, rolling back to his protege to dodge a swing of the staff.
Dick held up his remaining stick and electrified it as he engaged Jason once more in his mentor's place. "Savage wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of kidnapping all of them without some kind of purpose. If he sent Knight after us like this, it's only safe to assume that the others are facing their own successors as well. And if we're having this much trouble," he grunted as Jason snatched his wrist and stretched and twisted his arm, "I can only imagine how everyone else is dealing."
"So how are we going to play this?" Jay asked as they got their feet, facing off a still Wallace. The sight of red lightning cackling around the youngest member of their family was daunting to all of them.
"We need to knock him out," Wally decided immediately.
"But how?" Bart asked, buzzing both literally and figuratively. "We can't even get near him!"
As if to punctuate that, Wallace snapped his fingers again and another sonic boom echoed through the hallway, forcing the speedsters back. This time they're prepared for it and manage to land on their feet, but it just illustrated Bart's point — they couldn't get near him. Well, perhaps not Bart or Jay, but Wally could. But was it worth the risk?
Wally thought that over and thought yes, it was. "I'm going to try and rush him. If he launches another blast, I think I might be able to run around it. You two do the same, but in separate directions. Try to distract him."
Plan decided, the three speedsters went into action. Bart, owing to his nature, was the one to charge directly at Wallace, with Jay angling from the left while Wally angled from the right. Surprisingly, this time Wallace didn't produce a shockwave and wiped them all out. It didn't take long, however, for them to realize that he didn't need to.
One second Bart was rushing Wallace, arms spread out to grab the man, and the next he was gagging on having Wallace's knee in his stomach. The blow sent him tumbling backwards, ass over teakettle. From behind Wallace, Wally grimaced but tried to take advantage of the distraction to grab his cousin from behind. Unfortunately, Wallace had sensed him, judging by how he had caught Wally's arm and threw him onto his back. Hard.
That left Jay. Wallace let go of Wally's hand and practically floated to the side to avoid Jay's punch. When the man skidded to a stop and turned on his heel to follow up, Wallace was already there, catching his second punch and returning with his own, directly to the face. The other man was sent flying back, his helmet ripped from his head by Wallace's other hand. Before he could recover, Wallace was there again, kicking him in the chest to keep his footing off, before twisting the helmet in his hand and using the spherical top to begin slapping the man's face, back and forth.
"JAY!" Wally and Bart cried out as one as they watched their cousin beat the crap out of their mentor. Jay might have been the first of the Flashes but he was unquestionably the slowest, especially now that he was into his old age. Wallace, brainwashed and all, was taking advantage of it mercilessly.
Jay choked out a glob of blood as he stumbled away, using the wall to keep upright. Wallace threw the helmet at the back of his head, causing him to cry out in pain, before grabbing the back of his opponent's suit. He pulled Jay forward, off his feet, and then slammed a super-sped fist down onto his solar plexus, causing the older man to crash into the floor, leaving a visible dent. He let out one last gasp, before falling limp.
The remaining Flashes stared at the prone body of their idol, silently, desperately hoping that the man wasn't dead. They didn't have long to linger, however, as Wallace's visored gaze once again settled on them. Quickly, they got to their feet, and a stand-off ensued as the two speedsters began to circle one another, gold and scarlet lightning training behind them.
Then, the clash began again.
J'onn had to admit, it was rare for him to fight someone who had his power set. Even among psionics, a telepath and telekinetic on his level was rare. To say nothing of the super strength, the Martian Vision, the shapeshifting…well, there was a reason J'onn was one of the most feared members of the JLA. If only his weakness wasn't so common, he'd probably be the most feared member of all.
But as rare as it was for him to fight someone that had his power set, it was even rarer to fight someone that was better at using it. It was a shame to admit, a bitter pill to swallow, but this M'gann had been trained well by his counterpart, and had only developed her skills further after his death. Not only was her telekinesis quite possibly stronger than his, but she had combined it with her super strength and her shapeshifting to form an absolutely formidable fighting style.
She was constantly moving, constantly attacking, never staying in one form. Sometimes she would morph her appendages, sometimes it was her entire body. An octopus, crab hands, an eastern dragon, intangibility, all punctuated by several neatly-timed telekinetic blasts. M'gann M'orzz had taken her kind's propensity for violence and had refined it into something precise and deadly. J'onn was struggling just to keep up with it all, and knew, almost instinctively, that he couldn't keep it up for long.
This was not a fight he could win on this battlefront.
So, he thought as his eyes glowed red, I'll move it to another.
He allowed M'gann to grab him with her next attack. Before she could melt his head with her Martian Vision, he turned invisible and intangible. As she tried to look for him, tried to sense him with her telepathy, he connected his mind to her own… and then dove in.
"We cannot use our hydrokinesis on him! He'll just use it to electrocute us!" Garth shouted as he and the others dodged the swipe of Kaldur's water swords. He tensed as the other man twisted one sword in his hand and shot towards him.
Garth quickly retaliated with some energy blasts, grimacing as Kaldur expertly cut them away before getting into his opponent's guard. The former Aqualad dropped down, bending away to dodge another swipe of the blades before rolling forward, trying to ruin Kaldur's footing. Kaldur jumped up and then down, landing on Garth's chest with a powerful two-footed stomp. Garth gagged as Kaldur kicked him away.
He didn't have long to breathe, however. Mera, disregarding Garth's advice, quickly threw several hard-water missiles at Kaldur. Once again, the man sliced through them, quickly engaging his queen in hand-to-hand combat. Mera formed two pikes of her own with the surrounding water as she and Kaldur dueled; but, it was quickly becoming clear that despite her training, she was outmatched. After parrying several of her blows with his swords, Kaldur kicked her in the chest, forcing her back, before sheathing his water-bearers and using his own hydrokinesis to lance her shoulder with a sharp, hard-water projectile of his own.
Mera screamed in pain as she collapsed to her knees, clutching her now bleeding shoulder. Before she could recover, Kaldur lanced her again with another projectile to her other shoulder. She screamed again, distracted by her pain as Kaldur prepared one last lance, aimed directly at her heart. Before he could throw it, however, he spotted a roaring, charging Arthur from the periphery of his eye and threw it at him instead.
Arthur slapped the lance away with his hook as he twirled his trident in his remaining hand. Kaldur, apparently maintaining some form of emotion even in his brainwashed state, frowned as he jumped back to dodge a stab of the trident and drew out his water-bearers again, once more configuring them into their sword-shape. He clashed them both against the trident, before once again trying to swipe away. Arthur dodged the attacks before spinning on his heel and delivering a kick, which Kaldur expertly blocked with his forearm, before grabbing the leg and trying to flip his king. Arthur ripped the leg away before he could before charging forward with another stab.
Now it was Kaldur on the backfoot. He was constantly shifting his shoulders as he dodged the descending prongs, trying to block them with his swords and then with maces. However, Arthur's blows grew powerful with each swing, and gradually, Kaldur's grip on his water-bearers began to weaken. Finally, one last powerful blow broke the grip completely, and water-bearers were sent flying, buried into the throng of still water that blanketed the entire floor of the room.
He didn't have time to search for them. Arthur refused to give up the advantage and thrust forward, forcing Kaldur duck into a combat roll to dodge. He quickly got back up, facing his king's back, but before he could take advantage, Arthur spun on his heel and continued the barrage. Kaldur held up his fists as he began to dodge, using every odd opening to attack with his hands and knees. Finally, he struck gold when Arthur began to tire. He managed to redirect the direction of the trident, kicking at Arthur's chest with all his strength and managing to wrench the weapon from his opponent's grasp.
As Arthur stumbled back, he watched in horror as Kaldur expertly twirled the trident much like he would, holding it in a stance. The two Aquamen faced off again for one last still moment. Then, Kaldur charged, and the dance began again.
Cassie grit her teeth as she used her free hand to grab at the dirt floor to stall her impromptu body skid. She rolled away to dodge a powerful stomp aimed for her head, getting to an upright position only to cry out in pain as a powerful fist slammed into her face and sent her flying, back to the ground. She groaned as Donna approached her, face blank but severe, and winced, waiting for the pain to continue. Thankfully, Diana intervened, slamming into her sister's back and grabbing tight.
Or maybe not. Donna rolled with it, clutching Diana's legs as she tilted backwards, slamming the other woman onto the ground. The force of the attack loosened Diana's hold, and Donna stood up, pulling her sister up by clutching at her thick, black hair. Diana stood wobbly, trying to get her wits about her, which was becoming increasingly more difficult as Donna continued planting blows. Right hook, left hook, and then an uppercut to the chin. As Diana spewed spittle into the sky, Donna followed up with the other hand, burying a powerful fist into Diana's breadbasket. The older Amazon bent forward, clutching at her stomach.
Donna punctuated the assault with a vicious kick to the side of Diana's head, sending her skidding much like Cassie earlier. She approached the older woman, looking to finish her off, but was stopped by a lasso wrapping around her wrist. She glanced back to see the current Wonder Girl had managed to grab Diana's discarded Lasso of Truth, which had fallen off her side sometime during the fight. Donna quickly wrapped the body of the lasso around her wrist before pulling it forward, causing Cassie to yelp as she landed on her stomach. The younger girl was tugged forward, forced to let go of the lasso as she pushed herself to her feet.
Unfortunately, her enemy was there in an instant. Cassie scrambled to dodge another barrage of photon blasts, until she neared Diana's sword. Taking a deep breath, she picked it up and held it forward, before charging into the fray again.
"Kon!" Clark called out as he flew out of reach of another powerful blow. "Stop it, Kon! I do not want to fight you!"
Kon didn't answer. His face just remained perfectly blank even as he continued to chase Clark around the sky. Clark grimaced as he tried to keep evading his clone's attacks, but unfortunately, Kon had gotten much faster in his adulthood. It was only a matter of time before his luck ran out, and it came in the form of Kon grabbing his cape and using it to flip and smash him into the ground, forming spider cracks into the rugged terrain.
Clark groaned in pain as he was tugged back to his feet by that same cape. Finally accepting that this fight wouldn't be settled with words, he settled his expression into something more serious, before darting forward and ramming his body into Kon's midsection. Kon dig his heels in to stall the momentum, before using the new leverage to toss Clark into the sky. Clark managed to stop his impromptu flight, but wasn't fast enough to dodge the incoming punch.
The older Kryptonian shook it off and started exchanging furious blows with his successor, their fists connecting back and forth, until Kon managed to kick him in the chest to cause a bigger separation. He then placed two fingers to his forehead and then held out his hand in a claw-like fashion. Clark tried to dart forward again, only to slam into an invisible, telekinetic wall. He tried to break through the wall with his heat vision, but the attack failed to take.
Trying a new tactic, he flew up, up, in the sky, only to suddenly shift direction and angle himself towards Kon's back. The other man tried to react, but Clark got there first, grabbing his cape, fully intending to return the favor from earlier.
Then the cape tore off easily.
A breakaway cape, Clark realized, Of course it couldn't be that easy.
Unfortunately, that hesitation cost him. Kon kicked him in the chest once more, ripping the cape from his hands. Clark tried to shake off the blow, only to begin clawing at his neck to rip off the cape that was now being used to choke him out.
I might have miscalculated slightly, J'onn thought to himself, sweating as he observed in the insides of his supposed niece's mind. Her very, very warded mind.
To be blunt, it looked like a hellscape. There were booby traps and all manner of roving beasts guarding the various entrances to the different parts of her mind. Fire and brimstone, and a general air of stifling surveillance. Even what counted as the ground wasn't safe; it was lined with a moat that had even more beasts in it. Not to mention the organization — it looked like a maze, and J'onn knew that it wasn't because M'gann herself was a disorganized person. Far from it.
This was the mind of a skilled combat telepath. An experienced one too, not unlike himself. In fact, looking around, he could recognize some of the same techniques he used to guard his own mind. J'onn swallowed. Well, he had been the girl's mentor and adoptive uncle, apparently. If there was anyone she would learn advanced combat telepathy from, it was him. He still didn't quite know how to feel about that.
It took all of his skill, both as a flier and as a telepath, to navigate the girl's mind without damaging it or, more likely, getting killed himself. He evaded obstacle after obstacle, drawing upon his own knowledge to try and devise the location of M'gann's mental avatar. Under Savage's control, it would be bound somehow, and breaking her out of it would shatter the spell completely.
Finally, he had fully navigated the maze of doors and found the main chamber, the place where the mental avatar would typically situate themselves in. It was an ornate door, stylized by various, detailed drawings of M'gann's life. J'onn didn't allow himself to linger on them for too long — he was on a time crunch, after all. He inhaled deeply, and pushed the doors open.
Almost immediately, he spotted her. She was still in her Miss Martian form, bound by golden chains attached to the midnight-colored floor. She was snarling as she tried to rip them off, tried to free herself, but despite her super strength, she could not. Despite that, she continued to struggle.
J'onn approached her slowly, careful to keep his steps light. Even so, M'gann sensed him. She suddenly stopped her struggling and whirled her head around to face him, her scarlet gaze narrowing at him as she snarled again. J'onn froze, slightly intimidated.
"Who are you?" she demanded, almost screeching. "You can't be him! You can't! He died! I felt his mind as he died!"
The Green Martian was at a loss for words. Unfortunately, his hesitation cost him — M'gann's eyes began to glow, and before J'onn knew it, he was sinking into the ground and into a vast darkness.
As he fell, he could only hear one thing:
"Uncle J'onn?"
And here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed the fights — they were fun to write, after all! And trust me, this is just a taste of what's to come. This is the action-packed sequel to one day at a time, after all.
Next chapter: Miss Martian
