Author's Note:
The episode "Intervention" (Season 2, Episode 18) takes place from May 30th - June 14th 2016. The episode may be better identified as the one where Blue Beetle is captured by the Team and are purged from Reach influence by Zatanna in a Bialyan temple.
Chapter 4: Intervention
| DEO Base/Sector 16, National City
| 2016 May 30th, 4:17 PM
Her new place of residence, as it turned out, was filled with others like her. Well, not like her, but somewhat similar. They all had powers, and Raven quickly learned that this facility was meant to house and study what Ms. Dakota delicately called "superpowered individuals".
Their days consisted of a strictly held regimen. One where every child rose by 8 am and curfew was enacted at 9 pm. Most of the day was spent being educated by a man with a scar over his eye, the monotony of which was only interrupted by their designated meal times. But the part of the day that was simultaneously the most anticipated and the most despised was when 4 o'clock hit and they were escorted into the depths of what the officials called Sector 16.
It was reinforced, lead-lined, and laced with every type of power shielding that they could think of. It was the only place where their inhibitor collars were removed and the only place where the sector's inhabitants could let off some steam. Although most days it was a glorified training area.
There was a finger snap in front of her face, courtesy of an elastic arm from a young man on the other side of the room. "So, your instructor hasn't arrived yet?", he yelled.
Her monotonous face almost scrunched in mild annoyance, Jack* has been a persistent thorn in her side ever since she arrived here. "No. Now go away. You have practice of your own, remember?"
Undeterred by her abrasive response, the blond boy smiled before his elastic arm hoisted the rest of his body over to her location. "Now don't be like that. I just want to converse with a fellow ward of the state. Besides, Mr. Scar-over-his-eye is off evaluating another member of the gang today. Which means I have the day off to fool around."
As if punctuate his sentence, his too-long body began coiling around her chair — but he never touched her skin directly. He learned the hard way that she did not like being touched. Just like he learned that any real attempt to entrap her would only result in her teleporting away in a swathe of ethereal blackness.
With him perched over her space like an overgrown snake, he pointed to the windows of an adjacent room. Several balls of fire were being shot at a series of targets lined at the wall by a black-haired youth, his eyes glowing with an angry ferocity. "Ya see, his royal highness was bitching about being transferred from one sector to another. So our instructor thought he needed a way to release some steam today. Burning targets seems about right."
He stretched his arm several yards away to reach his water bottle. "I don't know what he's complaining about. Sector 12 was a dump compared to this place. Although I suppose back then we actually had more time outside, seeing as we were in a desert and all. Still, the food and board here is way better. Not to mention we have more free time here."
He smiled toward her. "But what about you, birdie? Do you dig this place?"
"I don't feel too strongly about it. While I may have some issues with them, they still have taken the time to work with me, even if they insist I work with them in return."
Jack's smile instantly turned into a frown, and his body coil slightly tightened. "Y'know…you sound exactly like what my instructor wants us to be. A thankful child fully intent on 'repaying' our dear old government for taking us away from our previous lives. Was your previous life really that awful?"
Raven's eyes narrowed, her senses already having picked up on the boy's latent feelings of frustration. "I wouldn't say it was awful. Quite the opposite in fact. But I did disagree with how they did things. It's why I came here."
She took a glance at the other children in the room, each experimenting with their powers or engaging with their instructors in some form or fashion. "I just don't see a reason to bemoan my current situation. Not when they give us a certain amount of leeway to engage in our abilities freely like this."
Jack exasperatedly gestured to the rest of the room. "You consider this free? Jesus, were you really born in government custody?"
The look she gave him was blank but telling. "Yes. Although I was born under the custody of a different government before I came here. But regardless, I don't see why I shouldn't make the best of this situation. Like you." Her eyes peered at him. "I rarely see you railing against the system. You just laugh, cajole, and mess around when you are able."
He sniffed. "Yeah, but that's because I know it can be worse. I could end up like Miss Queen, who wasn't even allowed to come out with us today. Or—god forbid—Ace. I've almost never even see her, but I know they don't let her go anywhere without her special headgear."
Raven knew of the girl. Well, she never knew her name, but she had seen her around. Small, trimmed black hair, tan skin, and sorrowful opaque eyes that continually stared into nothingness. She was indeed forced to perpetually wear a special set of headgear when she wasn't wearing an inhibitor collar. Something about her powers being uncontrollable.
The brown band was laced with wires and other electrical material, and clasped on the girl's head like a vindictive vice. Her training was always done in a special room, and every time she was in one of the hallways, she was accompanied by two guards who wore special white helmets.
She remembers all of these details because of her palpable sorrow. A sadness so strong that even without her empathy, Raven knew the girl known as Ace was a lonely soul. It was sad — and it was for that reason that Raven tried her best not to look at her for too long.
Nightshade's voice punctured her thoughts. "Raven, it's time to begin our exercises. We will be practicing your teleportation abilities again."
She gave a stern glare to Jack. "Provided that your...'acquaintance' clears the area."
The boy demurely unwound himself before straightening his posture. "Sure thing ma'am." He made sure to keep himself appropriately proportioned as he walked away, with his face still sporting a distinct front.
Raven rose from her seat, only now taking the time to look at the state of her instructor. She was sporting a few bruises on her left arm and a bandage covering her right hand, the blood tarnishing the white straps with its wine-like color. "Fine by me. Although if you want, I can heal those injuries before we start."
Nightshade blinked at that, as if surprised she would offer such a thing, before regaining her composure. "Uh…not right now. Instead, I want you to focus on this creature." She gestured to the covered cage that occupied one of the tables behind her. The black cloth was plucked by the older woman, revealing in the cage's confines a small, white rabbit. "You said you were theoretically capable of transporting others when you teleport, right? Well, I think practicing with an animal first will be beneficial before we try it out with humans."
Raven was already focusing herself as approached the cage, her powers already starting to channel themselves into her being.
| Tower of Fate
| 2016 June 5th, 11:45 AM
"You need to clear your mind of distraction, child of magic. Otherwise all of this preparation would have been for nothing."
If Zatanna didn't know any better, she would think Dr. Fate was getting irritated with her. "I am clearing my mind, but it would be easier if you weren't talking."
They had been at this for several hours. Dr. Fate was surrounded with Egyptian hieroglyphs, his great magics pulsing through them like a self-assured destiny. Through them magic was flowing throughout the chamber, and the golden stones of Nabu's place of power shimmered in predestined union in their attempt to prepare themselves for Isis's ritual.
In order to make sure it was successful; this aural cleansing was necessary. It was not the sort of magic Zatanna preferred, or was even proficient at—hence the need for Fate's assistance.
His magics were to serve as a guiding beacon and a thorough decontaminant. It burned through her veins, flushing out anything that didn't coincide with the ritual's intent. The magic in her body, which she used to bring happiness, joy, and security, was either being burned out or transformed.
It was being fizzled out like flames being snuffed by a preeminent storm. She couldn't use some of her more advanced spells after this, but that would be alright. She could reorient herself when all was said and done. Plus, it's not like she used those type of high-tier spells anyway. Her fighting style was based on versatility, not raw strength. Still, the idea of being hampered this way for the next month was a persistent nuisance. Zatanna didn't like restraint. It was actually one of the things her father—
The voice of Dr. Fate boomed. "I said to clear your mind of distraction, Zatanna. If we fail now, we do not have enough time to try again."
She huffed, and then took a deep breath. She needed to do as instructed and clear her mind. It was a foreign feeling, but one she needed to ensure. For now, at least, her mind could not be filled with optimistic wonder or endless possibilities. Or even love for any form of human expression. It had to be still, tranquil, and quiet. When she exhaled, her breath came out like an invisible string of ribbons, tugging on the lingering airs of radiant and multifaceted suggestions. Those wisps of ideas and various idyllic expressions. Moments of not-quite thoughts that would inspire, or create, or express. Like the air escaping from Pandora's box.
Her body was to be a receptacle for something else. A glorified storage unit. Meant to house magic that filled her placid mind with forgotten hymns, ancient rites and esoteric symbols from a civilization that was mostly forgotten. With her physical form absolutely thrumming with Fate's magics, Zatanna almost felt numb. Almost as if something greater than herself wanted her body to remain still and tranquil for all time.
Fortunately, as if sensing the encroaching commandment of his energies which sought to enforce complete order, Dr. Fate ceased his actions. HIs spell dissolved into golden particles, and Zatanna found herself easing her breaths. "That's it?"
"That's it." He said. "This preparation must be done gradually. We will repeat this purification process every day until you complete Isis's ritual. Now, show me how much you have learned from my translations."
Another breath escaped her mouth, her eyes staring at the ground that seemed to be made of a combination of gold and sand. "I already studied the manuscripts several times already. I think I have the spellcraft down."
The eyes of her lost father leered down at her. "And yet the last time I told you to demonstrate, your spells barely reached the ears of any ancient Egyptian deity, much less the one you seek to call upon. Where you not in my place of power, I doubt your chants would have had any effect at all."
Her hands bunched together into a set of fists before loosening. "Well, I think I will show you better results once I have the time to collect myself."
The older man remained silent, likely contemplating her words. "Very well. I shall return in five minutes."
Dr. Fate turned to leave, the retreating form of her father's form causing Zatanna to frantically call out. "Wait! Just because we can't practice doesn't mean we can discuss other things."
She knew it was irrational, but it was in times like these that she felt like she was with her father. Even though she was painfully aware that the only thing she was really interacting with was an ineffable Lord of Order.
He turned in silence, his mask revealing nothing of his thoughts. But in acknowledgment, he took a few steps toward her before swiping his arm in the empty space, the action spurring a flat image to spear in the space between them. It was a city. Golden and shining in its radiance. Quite a feat considering how they were located in a place that seemed to be perpetually bathed in the golden glow of fate. "This is Azarath. Whatever happened months ago, it originated from here. Although I have yet to determine how."
Her interest was instantly piqued. That blast of evil magic came from this place? She peered at the image, taking note of the cloaked denizens who were depicted calmly walking their clean streets. Almost all of them were completely covered, with their eyes and mouths being the only things visible from under their pointed hoods. It probably had something to do with all of the bird imagery that lined their architecture. She also noticed glyphs embedded into several stones, and how several residents were casually floating. Some of them were merely hovering above the ground, but others were elevating themselves to high terraces and sky gardens. Magical knowledge was a given.
"Awfully serene, don't you think? I don't know how anyone managed to summon… whatever-it-was and not have anyone notice. Or were these people complicit with that event somehow?"
The masked figure nodded his head. "Not likely. If my research is correct, these are descendants of the Cult of Azar. I knew them as extreme pacifists, not even willing to combat those who would do them harm. Their ultimate goal at the time was to find a dimension to call their own. To isolate themselves from a world that was continually being polluted with strife and discord. It seems they succeeded."
He paused for a moment, his eyes carefully surveying the still image in front of him. "Unless they were corrupted, they are more likely to either cast out or contain evil rather than use it. And I have already checked for corruption."
He extended his hand, and beside the image of a city was an intricately crafted seal. It was circular and laden with ancient glyphs. Some of which were even Enochian and Galeic.
"Their protective seal still holds. It cuts off Azarath from the rest of the cosmos and protects the realm from evil. Even the lords of hell would have a hard time breaching it. But the mere fact that that seal exists at all means Azar's teachings still hold."
Zatanna blinked, still looking over the design of the seal. She had never seen something so intricately crafted. "Azar?"
"The spiritual leader of the Azarathian people. She is as much a concept as she is an actual figure of Azarathian culture. It is from her that Azarath derives its pacifistic beliefs that places value upon all life. She is also a being of great power."
"And how do you know all of this?"
The stony eyes of Dr. Fate didn't even deign to look at her and were far more concerned with studying the image. "While your scrying and location spells were fruitless, mine were not. My rituals told me a name that was somehow connected to the magical event that caught my attention. From there —" Several books faded into existence, each opening and flipping to specific pages. "It was all a matter of research. Sifting through ancient legends and cross-referencing them with my knowledge was relatively easy. But the most challenging part was figuring out where they disappeared to. Thankfully, one of my older relics was able to assist me. It has produced the images that you have seen. Further evaluation has all but confirmed that they are indeed the followers of Azar."
His voice lowered, and Zatanna was sure that if she were to somehow lift the helmet, she would find a frown on his face. "I cannot break the seal without causing massive disruption, but I do believe that I can reach out to Azarath's residents so that we may commune. With any luck they will be willing to answer questions."
Zatanna's lips pursed, and her eyes drifted to the various forms of parchment that still hovered near Dr. Fate. She saw that some were written in Greek, others in Adamic, and surprisingly enough — Lyrn. A language that didn't exist in human societies at all, and was only spoken by spirits that were said to reside 'at the edge of existence'. Even her father only managed to collect three books in that language.
She was startled out of her thoughts when Dr. Fate abruptly snapped his fingers, the sound echoing in the endless chamber and forcing the images to dissolve as if it was mist. "It has been five minutes. Now, show me how you intend to remove the Blue Beetle's scarab."
Author's Note:
Jack, and a few other characters alluded to in this chapter, are a reference to the Justice League: Unlimited's Royal Flush Gang. The rest of his "gang" consisted of Ace, Ten, Queen, and King (who was blowing off steam in the adjacent training room).
Their real names were never given, but we know from the relevant episode that they were indeed kept in a "Sector 12" in the Arizona desert and that they were all once under government custody. Even the unnamed man with a scar over his eye is a reference to the figure seen instructing the gang in the government facility.