Jason Peter Todd Atlasia─which was his True Name when he examined his own spiritrtron─ camouflaged himself with the cloaking illusion and flew through Gotham's night sky. It was Anti-gravity magecraft he used to fly. He ruminated about Superman's flight ability being a kind of gravity manipulation, wondering if it felt just like his own flight.
This stunt of a magecraft would have been the height of inefficiency in his previous life. Had this era of the world's texture been not of the mixture of the Age of the Gods and the Age of the Men, he would have been overwhelmed by the calculation complexity, Thought Acceleration or no. Or by the Od shortage, give or take a few units.
He covered his sensory range within a radius of ten kilometers by using Etherlite and entered Crime Alley without triggering any of Batman's alarm systems. Even though crimes which happened here and there grated his nerves, it was important to grasp himself thoroughly. It was better to know his own Origin, Sorcery Trait and Elements, though, as a alchemist from Atlas Temple, he was not that bound by those factors much, unlike the shallow fools of Clock Tower.
He went into the one of deserted houses in Crime Alley, casting a bound field of human evasion. Before windows and doors were covered by shadows(of which he could move as he will somehow) to hide magical light, he drew the formal craft circle to perform the ritual for the discernment. Cards for the ritual also were wrought and placed in the center of the circle.
He sat down on the dusty floor and stretched his right hand out above the circle.
"Scansio(Rise)─"
The mental image which he was pounced by the gigantic wave of shadow, and his magic circuits were flushed white with prana along with the circle. Had anyone seen it, he or she would have made a great fuss about some will o' the wisp. The light show was the mysteriously frightening thing for common folks' mind to comprehend.
"The ancestor(Keter) is the mage king Solomon. To the descent of the 72 ways, 9 pillars and triangle for Grand Order, this novice(Malkuth) pledges himself to the way to the moonlit world(Yesod). My load is wrought by my life(Od) and kismet(Origin), to the gate, to the kingdom. The soul to the heaven, the pathos for nidana; the goal is the Truth."
He put his hands together like a clapping.
"I practice good by achieving it, destroying evil by practicing it. I will walk on the blade while I breath the flame, bleeding the ice. ──So mote it be."
The light faded. Only a circle shaped scorch mark and the cards were the proof that suggested something happend.
"Compono(Cool down)."
With the mental image which he shot out of the cold water, he switched off the circuits and turned the cards over. All of them were bleached white with the exception of the two that indicated the fire and the hollow.
It made his eyebrows rose. The dual elemental affinity was not that uncommon, but the hollow was surly rare. Even his Sorcery Trait was something unusual. On the fire card, it showed 'Cleansing(掃去).' Another one, the hollow card showed 'Concealment(隱蔽).' It beseems the Executors of the church to use rather than the Alchemist like him. Oh, well, he would find the use for them. After all he was not bad at improvising.
Burning the cards, its ashes was distributed over the circle, and it formed a symbol which showed his Origin.
It was Imperfection.
"Mother fu… Does it act on?"
The director in him helpfully provided the answer : 'No, not yet.' What a relief! He immediately purged the information about his Origin from his brain. He didn't want it to dictate his whole life nor want to be a failure.
Sulking, he wrought a blanket from the worn-out curtain which was abandoned in this dust hole. He was very tired─of course he was. He dug himself out of his own grave─ and in need of beauty sleep.
=Avenger's Rhapsody=
The next day late morning Jason woke up with small satisfaction from the minimum data of himself. Somehow, it was exceedingly pleasant to know something trivial. Even the weather outside was bright and sunny, it's no wonder there was spring in his step.
He burned the blanket on the circle shaped mark to hide his trace. It was time to find about himself. He dyed his hair dirty blond and slouch, swaggering like he own the place. His cloth already looked old and worn-out(courtesy of grave dirt and rainstorm), it was perfect image of an everyday's normal, poor, unemployed gothamite from Crime Alley with his haggard look.
Wondering around Old Gotham district he pick-pocketed some passerby just enough for his mundane work like breakfast or a cup of coffee. While doing so, he did not feel guilt. His birthplace was Crime Alley, his junkie mother sold him out to the Joker for some money before killed by the said clown with him, and now he got the malfunctioning moral compass of the director of Atlas Temple that let him enjoy a rare steak while he committing a human experiment at the same time. Compared to that, pickpocketing was very mild indeed.
By the time he 'jumped' through the imaginary number space to the alley near Clock Tower, his wrought wallet had quite a sum. After enjoying a meal at a restaurant, there were some money remained. So he went to a random tailor to order a set of Atlas uniform with name of Makarov Atlasia by using some compulsion charm to remove disharmony or suspicion from her(the tailor was a woman).
His─Jason Todd's─ personality lived because Makarov sacrificed himself for Jason to be preserved as completely as possible. The Atlas uniform would be a memorial for the director. He planned to make it as best Mystic Codes as he could, though its color scheme was left for debate, for it was too close to that of the Joker's.
By the time Jason went into a internet cafe near Wayne Tower, it was noon. He took a seat in front of a computer with a cup of hot americano in his left hand. Drinking the coffee with bored expression, he seemingly looked like a job seeker.
Except there was the Etherlite which connect to the computer through a USB port, spiritron-hacking.
Thought Acceleration and Memory Partition made his brain outstanding enough to put the Watchtower's computer to shame. But that was his downfall. Because he did not know about himself yet, he did not know he had a wild enthusiasm for information gathering. Because it was too easy, he unconsciously hacked into the database of Watch Tower and Bat-computer's system while slicing through the firewall of them both, tripping alarms.
He overdid it too much.
All it took was 2.78 seconds.
He withdrew Etherlite feinting of swallowing his coffee the wrong way, spilled it on his lap, and bolt out of his seat heading to the restroom. Other people in the cafe looked at him funny way, but that was the point. Nobody would think him strange if he came out late. Or rather never came out. In that case, it would buy the time for his escape.
He camouflaged himself again and flew to the dust hole, emotions rampaging around in his heart and all the information he collected processing.
Batman.
Bruce Wayne.
Joker.
Timothy Jackson Drake.
Third Robin.
First Robin.
Richard John Grayson.
Babara Gorden.
Gun.
Joker.
Revenge.
Joker.
Revenge.
Joker.
Revenge.
Joker.
Joker.
Joker.
Joker.
.
.
CUT
Alfred Pennyworth.
Grandfather.
….
Bruce Wayne.
Batmobile.
Dad.
Third Robin.
Successor.
Richard John Grayson.
Apathetic Brother.
Babara Gorden.
Batgirl-Oracle.
James Gordon.
Good cop.
Good man.
Good people.
In the cesspool that is Gotham.
Revenge.
Revenge.
Revenge.
Revenge.
CUT
Jason threw up the blood. Without his knowledge, he already arrived at his hidey-hole and collapsed on the floor, weeping aloud for all kind of emotions.
"I will get rid of the Joker," he gritted his teeth. "along with other evils. I will have the justice, we will have the justice"
There is saying revenge is a dish best served cold. It was true. His revengeful spirit was refined by the thought processes worth of twenty years. He was angry, yes, but not enough to lose all semblance of rationality.
'Power. I need power to hold the advantage and outmaneuver the enemy.'
The director answered promptly at plea for knowledge.
"Phantoms."
[Postscript]
Personally, I think alchemists of Atlas Temple in Type Moon universe would be rational and calculating sorts. Magi of Clock Tower? They would be cold and calculating, and have no regard of humanity, save a few exceptions.
Well…, at the very least, alchemists of Atlas Temple cared about humanity as a whole. Even their goal is salvation of humanity, not the Root of the world. And Jason had his humanity and would not be Red Hood, though he did not give up his vengeance.