His back crashed against the ground, soft grass turning into rock within seconds. Every bit of air was knocked out of Stiles' lungs, his back radiating pain. Not making a single attempt to move, the teenager pressed his eyes shut.

"Come on, is that everything you've got?" Alice loamed over him, trying to hide her smirk.

It was hard, but Stiles managed to keep his mouth shut. He managed stop the sentence that had been burning on his tongue for the last couple of minutes.

I could take you down within seconds.

For Mischief had fought against stronger and faster than Alice and her pack. Mischief had learned to jump out of a Kryptonian's range, to anticipate a speedster's move, to swing instead of fly, to think of a strategy and bring his opponent down.

But Mischief wasn't supposed to be in the clearing right now.

Stiles was only human. Stiles couldn't know how to defend himself. Stiles could only clench his teeth and get through with this, without fighting back.

"Stiles?" Scott asked, sitting a few metres to his left "You okay, dude?"

It took a moment for Stiles to have enough air to reply.

"Yeah." He opened his eyes and closed them again immediately when the sun's hit his eyes "Just… give me a moment… or a few years... A few years sound perfect, actually."

Alice swung her hair over her shoulder and extended her opened palm "Surprisingly, you lasted longer."

Against his will, Stiles let himself be pulled back on his feet. The trees around him moved in circles and black dots blurred his vision for a second. After what felt like an eternity, the world cleared, allowing Stiles to take his surroundings in.

The blue-jacketed werewolf was right where she had been seconds ago, grinning with satisfaction in her eyes. Standing in a circle around them were Scott, George, Erica and Isaac. Contrary to Stiles, Jackson and Allison had been smart enough to come up with an excuse, freeing themselves of this torture.

Which, Stiles had to admit, wasn't particularly easy. Saying it would help to get to know each other better, Alice and George had started attending Beacon High. Every second of it, they spent following either Scott or Isaac around. Being always by Scott's side, it had been impossible for Stiles to talk himself out of this.

Further back, observing everything with crossed arms, Derek stood as firm as a rock. Miguel would try to warm him up, occasionally commenting on the two sparring (in Stiles' case struggling) persons inside the imaginary circle.

Finally, Boyd and Amanda were sitting metres away next to the drinks and snacks both packs had brought to enjoy.

"Want to give it another try?" Alice smiled, her chest popped-up.

For a moment, Stiles just wanted to punch that smile out of her face.

Scott cleared his throat "I think he shouldn't…"

Miguel was next to Scott within seconds, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and shaking him a little harsher than necessary.

"Come on, give him another try." He pointed at Stiles with his other arm "He's learning!"

None of the pack could even conceive how this was called learning. It might have been appropriate to call it training when talking about werewolves. But for Stiles, the only way he could only think of this was as him being someone's punching bag.

Like they'd done throughout the ten days they'd been here, Miguel's pack didn't really care what the pack thought.

"You know how useful it is, don't you, Stiles?" Miguel grinned without letting Scott go "Give Alice another chance. She'll go easy on you."

About to open his mouth and remind Miguel his body couldn't heal within seconds, Stiles was abruptly interrupted by Alice's voice behind him.

"Come on, maybe you can last a bit longer than a few seconds."

Stiles would've liked to move heaven and earth to wipe that fricking smile off her face.

But he couldn't.

Stiles took in a deep breath.

"I appreciate having functional bones, than you very—."

Stiles' body reacted before he knew it, purely out of instinct. The moment he spotted the dark shadow speeding towards his face, he ducked, the words drowning in his mouth.

His heart throbbed in his ears.

"What the hell was that for?"

But Alice didn't acknowledge his question, she just laughed hollowly "See? You are improving."

"Stiles," Stiles was surprised by Isaac's voice. "you can do this."

He really appreciated the lie.

Carefully stepping back, Stiles brought some distance between him and Alice. Silently, giving in to the other pack's demand. In front of him, Alice bent her knees lightly, a malicious spark in her eyes.

Her hands were swinging by her sides. Stiles could've punched, she wouldn't have been fast enough to block the attack.

Stiles slowly made a step backwards.

Grinning with confidence, Alice strode forward in a straight line. Being just a few metres away, Stiles could easily predict what she was going to do. He could've circled around her, hit her side.

He made another step backwards.

She was waiting too long. Her chin was raised. Stiles could've easily punched her throat.

He waited.

Finally, Alice swung her fist behind her head.

Stiles saw it coming from a mile away. He could've dodged, he could've blocked it, he could've used the balance she was definitely going to lose, bring her down once and for all.

Make her last only a couple of seconds.

Hoping it wouldn't send him to the hospital, Stiles raised his arms. Purposefully missing to block her wrist.

"Shit." Someone muttered.

The enormous force hit his stomach, pushing every bit of air out of him. Gasping desperately for air, Stiles doubled over, wrapping his arms around his aching stomach. Coughing overcame him, he lost contact to reality around him.

Before he knew it, he was again, laying on the ground. The wave of pressure and pain in his back expanded within seconds. Out of breath, with a racing heart, Stiles stayed on the ground. The wet grass beneath tingled his skin, soaked his clothes.

"I'm done." Stiles didn't bother trying to get up "I don't give a shit if Dracula himself comes to eat me, I'm done."

A shadow fell over him. Two gentle hands closed around his shoulders, carefully pulling him up. Pain flashed though Stiles' stomach as it was forced to double over again. He bit his bottom lip, killing out the grunt that wanted to escape.

Even though Stiles could stand perfectly, Scott didn't let go of him. Much rather wrapping his arm around his shoulders, Scott glanced at his best friend.

"You did well." He weakly smiled.

Stiles rose his eyebrows.

Being the incredibly friend he was, Scott decided not to acknowledge it. Neither did he say what everyone in that clearing was thinking. Stiles hadn't had a chance. Honestly, he'd been pathetic.

"Who wants to go next?" Miguel smiled and rubbed his hands.

With his arm still wrapped around Stiles, Scott lead them to the right half of the circle. The half that had formed into their pack's. Erica's eyes sympathetically scanned him, smiling at him encouragingly. Even Isaac looked at him with something alike pity.

Derek, on the other hand, didn't even acknowledge him. His jaw and fists clenched, he stubbornly stared at the pack before them.

Alice high-fived her brother, both laughed. Observing her expanded chest, the entire pack wondered how they could take pride in defeating someone as defenceless as Stiles, someone whose physical abilities were clearly no match to hers.

Still smiling, Alice turned around to look at the pack. That same betraying look painted all over her face. If there was something worse than having your butt kicked by someone, it was having it kicked by someone that was utterly failing to hide how rejoiced they were to see you fall.

Not noticing the pack's distant reaction, Miguel stepped forward.

"What about you, Derek?" he pointed at the crossed armed man "Alpha to alpha training?"

All eyes landed on Derek. Tension made the air crack. They all waited for his response. Derek remained where he was for a second, staring into Miguel's eyes thoughtfully.

Scott and Stiles exchanged a glance. Scott shrugged lightly.

"Fine." Derek replied, taking his leather jacket off.

A wave of heat rushed up Stiles' cheeks when he got a look at Derek's skin-tight shirt.

Miguel smiled "Great!"

Before Derek could step into the sparring circle, Stiles' hand snapped around his wrist, making the werewolf glance back.

"Please, kick his ass."

The ghost of a smile brushed Derek's lips. He nodded and walked into the circle.

To his side, Erica pressed her fist against her lips.

"Come on, Derek." She whispered.

The pack had seen many things. They had lived through many dangers. They had faced many monsters. But the tension between the two alphas was something utterly new. Something none of them had ever seen.

Derek's grumpy attitude and Miguel's stubborn cheerfulness crashed against each other. There was no way this was only training. The air itself was vibrating with voltage between them.

Eyes flashed red. Claws burst forward. Growls filled the air.

Miguel was the first one to leap towards Derek, raising his hand over his head. Derek dodged to his left, immediately punching Miguel in the gut. Stumbling, Miguel lost his balance.

A smile brushed Stiles' lips. Maybe this day hadn't been that bad after all.

They continued fighting. They groaned when they punched and grunted when they fell. Every time Derek was forced to step back, every time he lost his balance, every time he as much as stumbled, Stiles heart stopped in his chest.

Derek had to win. Derek couldn't let that pack win. Derek had to show them how amazing this pack was.

It came out of nowhere.

There was a punch. Derek wasn't fast enough to block it. He fell backwards, landing hard on the floor. Miguel's red eyes gleamed with joy.

Stiles' heart raced.

Miguel stepped towards Derek. He swung his leg back.

"Get up, Derek…" Erica mumbled to Stiles' left.

Derek's arm snapped up, closing around Miguel's other leg. Pulling with all his strength, Miguel lost the ground beneath his feet.

One second after he had landed, Derek's figure swung up. Derek's hand closed around Miguel's throat. Raising his arm over his head with a iron grip, he threw the alpha into the air.

Miguel landed with a heavy thud on the grass, rolling a few metres before remaining on the ground. His chest raising and falling rapidly.

The fight ended. Stiles and Scott smiled at each other. Erica laughed to their left. Isaac's eyes gleamed.

Stiles' day was officially saved.


No matter how hard they tried, Scott and Stiles couldn't shake George off. It wasn't enough that Miguel used every occasion he could to arrange some sort of collective activity between the two packs. Be it training, getting to know Beacon Hills or simply following the pack around. They would never leave them alone.

In school, things weren't an improvement. Little smartass George had started following Scott around, had then moved on to Isaac and for a reason only known to the heavens ended up with Stiles before turning to Boyd and Jackson. However, since the pack usually met up during lunch and breaks, there wasn't a day when George wasn't present in their life. He corrected everything they said, talking about his broad and vast experience he'd gained through his pack's travels, discrediting every bit of knowledge that wasn't his.

Alice wasn't better. Allison and Erica were the only two girls in the pack. Lydia did spend most of her time with the pack, but it only took one glance and Alice disliked her immediately. Maybe because Lydia was as subtle in her aggressions as Alice was, or maybe because she was the only one that could cold-heartedly point out why Alice took such joy in other's shame. Whatever the case, Lydia was freed from the burden while there wasn't a day when Allison and Erica didn't have to spend time with Alice.

The two pack nights that should've happened were also utterly ruined. Since Miguel and Amanda didn't seem to want to leave Derek alone, they heard of the weekly organized meetings every Friday. Naturally, it didn't take a second for them to invite themselves.

Only John, the silent one, didn't get on anyone's nerves. He rarely joined in any activities and when he did, he didn't say much, mostly listening to the pack. Harking to their stories and tales, he actually seemed to care. Even though Miguel was the one consistently repeating he wanted to get to know them, John seemed to be the one willing to put his own ego down and try to accomplish it.

More than two weeks went by. Stiles had more than the usual difficulty balancing his two worlds. Not only did he have to take care of the pack not finding out about his nightly crusades, but he also had to make sure none of the other (slightly apprehensive) pack members followed him. His mood was dreadful. All the anger he couldn't release during the day, he let go during his real training sessions.

Being as lucky as he was, there were almost no real missions during that period of time. Not a single thing he could focus on to let his mind wonder off, to distract himself. To feel useful and prove to himself that he could, in fact, last longer than a few minutes in a fight.

To Stiles' surprise, his uncle also seemed stressed and on edge. Ever since Miss Martian had informed him about what had happened in Rimbor, Batman (as well as Bruce) had become obsessed with said planet. He'd spent entire nights in the Batcave, researching as much as he could, desperate to find out what had happened.

The entire League was crushed by knowing they were wanted criminals throughout the entire galaxy. Not a single word had made it out of the Justice League and team's headquarters but knowing there was such a heavy burden on their shoulders wasn't easy.

Which meant that there was something worse in Stiles' life than an intrusive pack. No matter how frustrating it got to have an overwhelmingly cheerful man, a know-it-all and a hypocrite always bothering them, it was only temporary. Stiles knew they'd move on eventually and things would return to normal.

The League was a complete different case. It wasn't until almost a month later, that they found out what the Leaguers were planning to do.

Stiles didn't like the idea at all.


The waves crashed against Mount Justice's shore as all protégés circled around each of their mentors. Sadness and melancholy filled the air, but also pleasing expectation of what was to come. If everything went according to plan, the League would return cleared from all charges.

Knowing what it meant, the team's members were saying goodbye to their mentors.

Wonder Girl looked up at Wonder Woman.

"I wish I could go with." She muttered silently and crossed her arms.

"I doubt your mother would approve." Wonder Woman's hand fell on her shoulder "And only the six of us who stand accused need take this odyssey."

She turned to look at Hawk Girl and Hawk Man, both standing a few metres behind with intertwined fingers.

"Though Hawk Man insists on accompanying his spouse."

Her eyes travelled to the dark-skinned, blue-caped hero whose arms were tightly wrapped around his daughter.

"And Icon will act as our advocate. For it seems he is familiar with intergalactic trial law."


A few metres behind them, Green Lantern's firm and brown eyes were set on Captain Adam's shiny, metallic skin.

"You sure this is necessary?" Captain Adam asked, his glowing eyes showing how sceptical he was about the whole situation.

Green Lantern replied in a heartbeat "The Guardians of the Universe seem to think so." He explained "They've sent Hal and Guy ahead to make sure the so-called high court of Rimbor will know we come in peace—"

His voice lowered "—and know we expect a fair trial."


"How long will you be gone?" Superboy asked and clenched his fists, not hiding his frustration.

Superman's soft hand immediately landed on his shoulder. "However long it takes to clear our names, Kon-El." He smiled "But we will be back, little brother."


Miss Martian's head was burrowed in Martian Manhunter's chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his body. After a few seconds, she looked up.

"I'll miss you." Her eyes were dull.

"And I you, M'gann." Martian Manhunter smiled. He tilted his head "Oh, perhaps you could water the plants in my apartment while I'm gone?"


Nightwing's voice was dull, silent. "Be careful, all right?"

Right before him, Batman's masked face remained as emotionless and unmoving as always.

"I was about to say the same to you four." He looked at his protégés one after another "I fear we leave the more dangerous task here on earth."

The wink of a smile appeared on Nightwing's face when he looked down at his friends. Her hand on her hips, Batgirl quickly followed his example. Robin and Mischief quickly glanced at each other. For a moment, all their struggles and victories flashed through their minds.

"We'll manage." Mischief smiled comfortingly at his uncle.


"Time to go." Green Lantern's voice interrupted all conversations.

Raising a fist with his green-gleaming ring, Green Lantern waited for his companions to surround him. Batman's cape swung in the chilly night when he took his place behind Wonder-Woman. Superman's eyes forged with determination next to Martian Manhunter's delicate frame.

A green force-field came forth from Green Lantern's ring, enveloping the eight heroes in a round bubble.

"May the gods be with you all." Wonder Woman's decisive voice cut through the air before the bubble closed around her.

Silently, the team watched as the round force-field shifted. It stretched backwards, forming a cockpit, a fuselage and two broad wings. In a matter of seconds, a spaceship made of green energy mounted before them.

The turbines roared. Wind wiped against their faces. Leaves spun around. Hair, capes and clothes thrusted back. Squinting their eyes, the team withstood the pressure pushing them back.

They stared at the spaceship as it rose. Their ears buzzed and the flying dust fought its way into their eyes. The green spaceship spun around, climbing up to the clouds, surpassing them, flying into the stairs.

In a matter of seconds, the dot shrunk, its gleam was drowned by the starts decorating the sky. Before they knew it, the ship was gone.

Captain Adam was the first one to look down. He turned around and walked slowly back into Mount Justice. One by one, the team's members followed his example. Not saying a single word, their eyes lowered from the sky. Turning their backs on the stars, they headed back to Mount Justice, back to their training, back to their life.

None of them said what was lingering in the dark corner of their minds.

The team was now on their own.


Saying Harris disliked Stiles would've been an understatement.

Stiles knew the chemistry teacher's lizard-like gaze was set on him, observing his every move, looking for the smallest of flaws, detention already waiting for him. It took a few seconds, but Harris moved on, turning his drilling look at Tiffany's red-jacketed frame.

"I swear to God, one day Karma's gonna come for him." Stiles mumbled, his eyes surfacing the four rows before them, set on Harris "And I'll laugh."

Frowning at his textbook, Scott didn't acknowledge his ranting. He eyed the erlenmeyer flask, pipettes and two solutions as if they were a exotic tiger, ready to jump at him any second.

"How can he be that angry all the time?" Stiles continued, not caring about the experiment they were supposed to be conducting "Isn't there a limit? Don't people like… explode or something? I doubt there's much more than chemistry and-"

Scott sighed in defeat "I'm having other problems over here."

Squinting, Stiles' eyes didn't leave Harris "That's what he makes you think, but in reality-"

"What should we put in first? The natrium hydroxide or hydrochloric solution?" Scott tapped his book with his pencil "How much of it? And how do we figure out the concentration-?"

"—he's like a koala, looks harmless and kind. But deep down-"

"—Do we even have the volume? Is there a formula or something —"

"– he's ready to attack, snap at you any moment, ready to devour your face—"

"—The amount of substance? What's-?"

Next to Tiffany, a bush of black curls spun around. Resting his elbow on the chair's rest, George's eyes scanned Scott thoughtfully.

"You don't need the amount of substance. Harris said it minutes ago." His sharp tone interrupted Scott and Stiles' private conversations "The concentration of hydrochloric solution is known, it is in the book, the one of natrium hydroxide not."

Stiles' eyebrows rose. Like many times during the last couple of weeks, he wasn't interested in George's blabbering.

His shoulders high, George continued "If you had read the task, you'd know the volume of hydrochloric solution we should use for the titration is 20ml. The one of the natrium hydroxide solution is the one you are supposed to measure with the experiment, obviously. And, please don't ask what a titration is, even you should've picked up on that by now."

Scott's fist clenched next to his opened book. His shoulders shook, however gently.

George didn't care. If anything, his shoulders were higher up than before.

"You know what I think is most surprising?" Stiles leaned forward.

The werewolf's brows rose challengingly, as if he were daring Stiles to say something he didn't know, to correct him.

"The fact that you think we asked for your opinion." Stiles smiled "We didn't, by the way."

A sound burst out of Scott. Immediately, his hand snapped to his mouth, the snickering turning into a cough. Yet, he couldn't manage to hide the spark of joy in his eyes. Biting his bottom lip, he glanced down at his book.

Naturally, Stiles wasn't allowed to take part in the joy.

All over on his front desk, Harrison's eyes snapped up from the book he was reading the moment Scott started coughing. Hoarse and harsh and fake, it only took Harris a second to deduce what was going on. That and Stilinski's satisfied smirk.

"Stilinski!" he shouted through the class, bringing silence on like a bolt "Something funny in your solutions?"

"…aside from their names?"

Harris' eyes fell down the deepest and darkest hole there had ever been. "Anderson, change partners with Stilinski."

Stiles' mouth gaped open "But—"

"Now." It was tense, about to snap. Another word and Stiles would be catapulted to detention.

Taking in a deep breath, Stiles shut his book, pushed his chair back and got on his feet. When George walked by his side, his shoulder found its violent way into Stiles'. The werewolf didn't even consider apologizing.

Silently biting his tongue to force the tide of not-very-kind-words back, Stiles took a seat by Tiffany's side. His throbbing heart an constant alarm inside him, reminding him of how angry he was.

"Thank you."

Stiles snapped out of his head. All adrenaline disappeared, only leaving place for utter cluelessness. With a frown on his face, his glance shifted to the person who had spoken.

Tiffany stared bluntly at him.

"For what?" he asked.

"For making him go away." She turned back to look at her almost finished experiment "I was about to try a new experiment myself. See how long it would take him to shut up if I threw the acid at his face."

Stiles' lips twitched. He liked this girl.

"You know him well?" she asked, pressing gently on the pipette to let a few drops of the solution fall.

Stiles saw the tears fall on the acid, its colour changed to yellow.

"Not very." He answered honestly "He's been… visiting a friend of mine. I'm kinda compromised to tolerate him."

"Oh, well," Tiffany scoffed "believe me, I know how that feels."

The purple ends of her hair swung forth as she wrote something down on her textbook. Really seeing her for the first time, it dawned on Stiles. There was more to the girl with three piercings and a love for leather jackets than what he knew.

Tiffany let more drops fall. Green.

"People like that always bring trouble." She muttered, not only talking about George anymore "It's better to know when to draw the line before it's too late."


February 13, that's the day it happened.

Walking out of class, Stiles had no idea what would happen that night. What would happen the following days. He could never have guessed.

Ironically, there was only one thought in his mind. He was glad. His chest was blossoming with joy in anticipation of what would happen that evening. Or much rather, what wouldn't happen.

"I'm sorry." he apologized, but the two before him knew he wasn't sorry. Not in the least. "But I can't, and I've got an excuse, no, a reason, not to go. There's no way I'm going, Scottie."

Standing to her boyfriend's side, Allison's eyes turned to slits "You are going to leave me alone in a clearing with two sparing packs of werewolves? Really? Are you that cold-hearted?"

Stiles didn't step into the trap. "Wow, you can't put any blame on me after you let me go there alone and get used as a punching bag. Me, skinny, defenceless Stiles with no hunter-training. You stand far better chances."

Stiffening, Scott's eyes avoided Stiles' "There's no way that's happening again." His eyes were steel. "We shouldn't have let it go that far, Stiles, we should've—"

"Wow, dude, stop." Stiles' hands shot up, throwing a shadow on the blue jeep parked by his side "Don't start with the Scott-Puppy-Blaming. It's not your fault, it's okay."

Letting her eyes briefly wonder over the parking lot getting emptier each second, Allison shrugged. "It can't be that long until they leave, can it?"

"That's what we thought a week ago." Scott sighed.

"And two weeks ago." Stiles looked at the sky "And three weeks ago. And a fricking month ago."

"My point is," Allison took a deep breath "today will be one time less we have to train with them. We should look at it that way."

Clapping on his jeep's hood, Stiles smiled sourly. "I'm not coming anyway."

Scott's eyebrows rose up to the sky "Is this another secret mission for your oh so secretive uncle?"

A satisfied smirk stretched over Stiles' lips. Within the first months he'd returned from Gotham, Scott had noticed he'd sometimes disappear during evenings and reappear during mornings. There wasn't the shadow of a doubt in Stiles' mind that Scott had tried to uncover his secret. But Mischief was too well trained, too experienced. Scott didn't stand a chance against Batman's protégé. In Beacon Hills, few ever would.

Thus, Scott had begun joking to voice his frustration, claiming Stiles was spying on other companies for his uncle. He was a famous philanthropist, not only a superhero after all. He had a company to run and enemies among other billionaires. It had been a simple explanation. One Stiles had been too glad to use. His uncle didn't like him telling anything about his job in Wayne Enterprises and how Stiles got involved sometimes.

Scott had understood, had respected it. When Stiles disappeared, he just called it "visiting your uncle".

However, every now and then, Scott returned to his former jokes and claimed Stiles was a secret agent.

Which, amusingly, wasn't very far from the truth.

"Yeah, you know, 007 stuff." Stiles smirked "Saving the world from men with fake British accents, the usual."

Wrapping her arm around Scott's waist, Allison couldn't help but smirk.


Inside one of the most secure scientific facilities, Star Labs, a blonde scientist typed in the last commands in the machine, reading through the code one last time to make sure everything was going exactly as planned. Deciding three times would be enough, Adam Strange turned around, heading for the other end of his lab.

Sitting in front of a computer, his co-worker scanned the commands one last time. He glanced at Adam and nodded.

Adam's eyes travelled to a screen nearby, transmitting his image to two different secret locations.

"We're ready." He spoke into his camera "Zeta shield relay satellites are all in place."

On the other side of the screen, with not only skin, but also eyes of steel, Captain Adam nodded at the scientist, displaying his approval. Behind him, the few remaining members of the League waited patiently.

Adam's voice spoke through the screen. "Activating satellites."

In the Watchtower's safety, Black Canary, Doctor Fate and Captain Marvel observed observe the images of the round satellites around earth's orbit, turning around their own axis. Radiation sprouted, connecting all of them through a net of yellow gleaming zeta radiation.

At the same time, inside an inactive volcano just outside Happy Harbour, six teenagers stared at the images displayed before them. A circle depicting earth was being surrounded by another yellow circle, little dots blinking along its circumference.

Once the image ended drawing itself, bright beeping filled the cave of Mount Justice.

"Congratulations," Adam Strange spoke from the other side of the screen "The zeta shield is now operational."


Staring at the League and the scientist's transmission, M'gann smiled at the moment she was witnessing. Safety and reassurance surrounded her. Not only through the shield's protection but also through her boyfriend's arms. Letting him wrap his arms around her, she rested her back on his chest, enjoying every bit of it.

"Absolutely historic." La'gann's chest vibrated as he spoke "With the zeta shield in place, no alien can teleport to our planet from off-world."

Superboy walked into the main hall that second, not sparing the joyful couple to his right a single glance. With clenched fists, he headed straight for Mischief's side. M'gann's eyes followed him silently.

"Even your Strange friend won't be able to travel to and from Rann without prior approval."

M'gann's eyes jumped back to La'gann as she listened to her boyfriend with affection.

"Shield's great," Superboy crossed his arms "but it won't stop a space ship or a boom tube."

Jaime Reyes frowned "What's a boom tube?"

Within seconds, the all too familiar voice spoke inside his mind. The scarab infused in his spine commented on everything it could, like always.

"Boom tube—" it's voice was sharp, precise, mechanic "An alternate means of instant transport between distant locations. Not compatible."

Frustration got the better of Jaime.

"Not compatible with what?" he frowned, crossed his arms, sighed exasperated "I swear I don't understand half the things you say."

By his side, Mischief as well as Superboy glanced at him with concern in their eyes. For a moment, Jaime was so submerged in his anger he didn't notice. Upset, he stared into the wall, his shoulders raising and dropping.

"The feeling's mutual." Mischief spoke slowly.

Jaime's eyes widened in surprise, blood rushed to his cheeks. Like many times before, he had forgotten everyone around him wasn't able to perceive the AI's voice.

However, before he could explain, Superboy turned to look at Mal.

"Where's Nightwing?"

The black-haired teen's eyes left Jaime hesitantly. They landed on Superboy. "Taking the night off. Personal business."

"Perfect." Superboy sighed.

"So, back to movie night, Angelfish?" La'gann's voice echoed from across the cave.

Almost all heads turned to look at the couple. Superboy immediately regretted it. The moment his eyes landed on the intertwined couple, resting their foreheads against each other, a haze of red flashed through his vision.

Without thinking about it, his hands snapped up.

"Tag." They closed around Jaime's hoodie and Mischief's suit "You're it."

Superboy didn't bother looking at his two victims. Instead, he started walking, dragging them along with him. Mischief couldn't react quickly enough. Before he knew it, he was following Superboy, trying to regain his balance.

"Hey!"

Mal's eyes widened "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." He stepped after Superboy, following "Kon, what're you—"

"Taking the night off." Superboy continued walking with his iron grip "Personal business."


Flying above Washington's Monument, the alien floating vehicle Sphere carried three young heroes above the city. Its blue wheels glared in neon light as the cold breeze hit the heroes faces and the engines roared.

There was only Superboy's black shirt before Mischief, tight to his skin and highlighting his tense muscles.

Sitting silently by Blue Beetle's side, Mischief tried to pull his gaze onto him. The blue armoured teenager was leaning heavily on the arm rest before him, crossing his arms, his brows furrowed.

After an eternity, his eyes finally landed on Mischief. Knowing talking wouldn't go unnoticed by Superboy, Mischief pointed his head at the muscular figure before him, raising his eyebrows. When Blue Beetle's muscles remained in their place as if he were petrified, Mischief repeated the gesture, his eyebrows almost shooting up to the sky.

"The Mischief is encouraging you to ask." The scarab's voice tingled in Blue Beetle's mind.

Purposefully turning away, Blue Beetle tried to ignore the spoken and unspoken voices.

"Ask."

Blue Beetle's fist clenched.

"Ask!"

If it hadn't been for his armour, his nails would've made his palm bleed.

"Ask!"

"Alright, already." Blue Beetle cried in anger "I'll ask."

Mischief's eyes widened in utter surprise. Superboy's back tensed, but he didn't turn around from the steering.

"Ask what?" he shouted over the soaring wind.

"Oh, any piece of this mission you feel like letting us in on?" Blue Beetle leaned forward.

Not a muscle moved. Superboy's frame remained as firm and motionless as a rock. A glance shot between Blue Beetle and Mischief, none of them getting what they wanted.

Mischief cleared his throat and looked at his feet "Look, I know you only picked us because Gar was studying and La'gaan and M'gann were… whatevering."

"But we're here, ese," Blue Beetle joined in "and we want to help."

When Superboy glanced back, he encountered Blue Beetle's soft eyes, Mischief's concerned eyebrows.

His muscles relaxed.

"Yeah." He sighed "OK."

His black hair swung when he turned to the steering again and pressed a red button. A blue-framed screen flashed before him, identical to the one that appeared just before Blue Beetle and Mischief.

They were looking again at Malina Island. Before it had been destroyed.

"The bomb Aqulad used last month to destroy Malina Island was clearly of Alien Origin."

A ball of red started to expand from the inside of the volcano, swallowing the entire island in its heated light within seconds. The image disappeared and one of a tiny green skinned, red eyed Krolotean took its place.

"Obviously, the Kroloteans that perished there didn't know anything about it, so we need to figure out where it came from."

Mischief and Blue Beetle's eyes were bound to the screen before them. Another image appeared. Three armed men wearing hoodies and caps, hiding in the night's shadows.

"The criminal organization Intergang has a history of trafficking in alien tech smuggled through earth through boom tubes."

Mischief's eyes turned to slits when various red-energized weapons appeared before him.

"So I've been keeping tabs on Whisper A'Daire, one of Intergang's top lieutenants."

There was a woman. Long brown hair reaching until the end of her black shirt at her waist in a tidy pigtail. Military pants and boots on her lower half.

Another image. A very broad man with a tidy, short cut. His brows furrowed in anger above his thin moustache. Like the lieutenant, he was dressed in black and grey, his hands covered by gloves.

"Tonight, her boss Bruno "Ugly" Mannheim crawled out of hiding to meet up with her."

A blue map flashed before them, white streets, sky blue buildings and red dot blinking.

"And they're both in that truck."

Mischief glanced down at the streets far below them. There was a white, inconspicuous truck beneath them on the freeway. A sign rushed past the vehicle. Hall of Justice.

"And it looks like they're headed for—" Superboy broke off, frowning.

"The Hall of Justice." Mischief ended.


The wheels squeaked as they were forced to come to a halt. A door opened and a tall man with a moustache stepped into the cool night. As he closed the door, a long-haired woman joined his side, grinning mischievously.

Carrying the metallic suitcase through the Hall's deserted terrace, their steps echoed in the dead night. Metres above, Superboy squinted, trying to get a look at its content. His eyes were met with a simple shade of blue. It was lead, the only thing his X-ray vision couldn't penetrate.

"Can you scan that case?" he turned to look at Blue Beetle.

"Yeah, sure."

His armour's arm shifted, building itself new. In a matter of seconds, a sonic scanner was in his arms.

Blue Beetle focused, staring at the data displayed on the orange glass covering his eyes. Symbols in a foreign language appeared, the suitcase remained closed to his eyes. Shrill beeping filled his ears as a red circle appeared before the suitcase, an exclamation mark thereafter.

"Cannot scan contents." The scarab announced. "Not compatible."

Blue Beetle's eyes rolled in frustration "Not compatible again?" he shook the scanner in his arm "What does that even mean?"

Mischief had had enough of this.

"Blue, what do you mean?" he asked firmly "Who are you talking to?"

Giving up on shaking his scanner, Blue Beetle sighed and let his head drop in defeat.

"It's the scarab." He pointed at his back "The thing stuck to my spine that gives me the armour, the powers."

"It's an artificial intelligence created by Ted Kord." his eyes darkened behind the glass "You know, the previous Blue Beetle."

Superboy glanced back, his voice hollow. "Yeah. I know. Good man."

"So I hear. Guess he was a super genius or something." Blue Beetle's shoulders tensed "Captain Adam figures the scarab was Kord's ultimate invention. But the Light killed him before he had a chance to use it."

Blue Beetle looked at the sky, shrugged, hesitated "The scarab… advises me."

The corner of Mischief's lips moved "Like Jiminy Cricket?"

Blue Beetle smiled amused and nodded "Like Jiminy Cricket with a really bad attitude."

"But he can't scan the suitcase for some reason." Blue Beetle looked down at his scanner.

"Can it scan the hall?" Superboy asked "Ugly might be about to launch an attack against whoever's inside, and it's shielded from my infrared vision—"

"Scan complete." Blue Beetle had finished before Superboy could come to an end "Hall's deserted."

Mischief frowned. "Uh, guys?" he asked frowning "Shouldn't we worry about the alien-thingy there that looks like a bomb?"

Superboy and Blue Beetle's gazes immediately snapped down at the spot Mischief was pointing. Behind the Hall of Justice, near the outside wall, Ugly was kneeling before the opened suitcase. Gleaming with red vines and veins stretching all over its surface, a small metallic box rested on the suitcase's cushioned inside. A small screen on top of it, displaying something the young heroes were too far away to read.

"What is that thing?" Blue Beetle asked, his orange eyes turned into slits.

Suddenly, Sphere's engines roared hesitantly, like a man gasping for his last breath. Its neon wheels dulled, lost their light and hesitantly blinked back on again. Air hit the heroes as the vehicle struggled to keep itself floating, losing a bit of height every second.

"Don't know." Superboy inspected his alien vehicle "But the way Sphere's reacting, I bet it's Apocalyptan."

Mischief rose his eyebrows "Meaning?"

"Meaning bad news." Superboy steered, Sphere drop to a dive. "Let's go."

As they lowered their altitude, the engine's struggling attracted the black-dressed woman's attention. The corners of her lips dropped.

"Company, boss." A'Daire's voice was cold, stating nothing but a fact.

Ugly rose to his feet, the box in his hands, a smile on his face.

"Too little, too late."

The device in his hands shifted, a transmitter forming on its top. In a matter of second, the radiation he needed spread through the night.

Above the ground, only a few metres away, Blue Beetle's head went hardwire. A hammer smashed his skull repeatedly, currents of pain flashing through his mind.

"Not compatible!" the scarab shouted inside his head "Not compatible!"

Blue Beetle groaned in agony, pressing his hands against his skull, hoping to keep it from exploding.

Mischief's eyes widened "Blue!"


On the other side of the wall, inside the Hall of Justice, four giant trophies of the League's first mission, shifted and moved. Life flooded their limbs like golden liquor, strengthening the hollow casts that had remained motionless for more than 10 years.

Wood, crystal, rock and gold cracked. The vitrine's glass shattered.

The four figures came together, wrapped around each other, flew through each other, fused into each other.


"Game's over Ugly." Mischief landed swiftly on the ground.

Superboy right by his side. "Hand over the device."

"You're half right." Ugly smiled. "Game is over."

The wall behind him cracked, debris flew into the sky. After another punch from the inside, the thick wall gave in, rocks falling and dust raising. A shadow walked out of the newly made hole.

A figure of rock with thick branches wrapped around its limbs. A figure with molten gold flowing through the rock's cracks like blood. A figure with white crystals spiking out of its body like knives. A figure taller than a house.

Mischief's heart jumped in his chest, his head resting completely on his neck to spot the entirety of the figure.

"That is not a good." He muttered.

As if to reply, the monster roared on top of its lungs, scratchy and hollow and hoarse.

"Attack." Ugly grinned.

Superboy gasped for air. The creature's arms rose up to the sky, falling in an instant. Mischief jumped to his left just in time, coughing as the cloud of dirt spread from the spot of the impact.

Jumping upwards instead of to his side, Superboy grasped an edge of the creature's rocks as it swung back up, hanging on its limb like a chain. The creature noticed immediately. It shook its, swung back and forth forcefully. Grunting, it took all of Superboy's strength to not lose his grip and fall to his death.

Seeing his opportunity, the second the creature's movement slowed down, Superboy jumped as high as he could. Bringing his fist down with the entire force of the fall, he hit one of the creature's spikes. It cracked, falling to the ground in pieces by Superboy's side.

Having landed on his knees, the creature saw its opportunity to smash the Kryptonian. Its wooden foot rose. Superboy barely had enough time to roll away from the spot before it was crushed by the entire monster's weight.

Taking this as his opportunity, Mischief jumped from the ground, landing on the creature's thigh. Holding on with one hand, he snapped one sia from his belt, cutting as many branches through as he could.

Beneath him, Superboy took a similar approach. Racing to the other foot, his fists swung back, punching with immense force. The wood cracked and splattered as he fought his way through the monster's limb.

Meanwhile, Sphere, the alien vehicle, had had enough time to analyse the radiation sprouting from the Apocalyptan device. Creating an exactly opposite duplicate, Sphere rose his own transmitter. The new radiation spread through the darkness, annihilating the Apocalyptan device's radiation.

Groaning and blinking, Blue Beetle returned to reality. His head stopped throbbing. The scarab stopped shouting.

His eyes took in the scene before him, widening immediately.

Mischief jumped from the creature's limb, dancing around its feet to avoid being smashed. Small marbles flew off his hands, exploding the second they crashed against the creature's rock.

Superboy was also jumping, running and avoiding the monster's fists made of rock, aiming to crush the Kryptonian.

The cut off branches grew back. The crystal regenerated itself. The small explosives didn't even shake the rock.

"What is that thing?" Blue Beetle asked, forgetting how to move.

"Apolaxian Golem." The scarab immediately replied.

"You know, I'm bilingual." Blue Beetle's patience came to an end "And I still have no idea what you just said."

"Irrelevant. Attack."

Blue Beetle smiled "OK. That I get."

Wings spread from his armour, propelling him to the star-filled sky. With utter concentration in his eyes, his armour's arm shifted into a canon, aiming perfectly at the monster his friends were fighting.

Inside the battle, Superboy caught his friend's movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Blue, no!" he shouted, his eyes wide.

But the blast was already on its way. The creature didn't move a millimetre. The sonic wave hit the monster and its crystals glared blue for a second. Then; they lost the colour.

A heavy blast exploded from the creature.

Without a single warning, Mischief was thrown off his feet, rolling on the ground for a few metres before remaining motionless on the floor. Superboy soon followed, his back hitting Sphere as he grunted. The vehicle itself was thrusted back after the loud crash.

"Aw, man." Blue Beetle only had a second to glance down at his fallen friends.

The blast reached him, sending him flying off balance. Screaming, Blue Beetle lost utter control of his armour, every ability to fly gone. His body landed like a dead weight on the dirt, dust clearing his path.

"They're down." A'Daire smirked in anticipation "Can we kill them?"

"Nah." Ugly looked at the fallen heroes with exhaustion "Trying to kill a Kryptonian would be time-consuming."

Superboy tried to get up, tried to move. His eyes wouldn't open, his limbs wouldn't stop shaking. He groaned.

"The League will be here any second." Ugly typed something into his Apocalyptan device "Let's just get gone."

The monster stepped back. It roared at the sky like a wolf howling at the moon, lonely and broken. Thick branches sprouted from its back, gold between them. They spread creating two giant wings, screeching. It looked like a dragon, like a bat.

One of its hand lowered. Immediately, A'Daire and Ugly mounted on the wooden surface, big enough to carry them with ease. The creature jumped off its feet, swinging its golden wings to lift itself to the sky. Soon enough, the creature was out of sight, its place taken by the full moon above.


"How are the ears?" Blue Beetle asked, sitting crossed armed behind Superboy on Sphere.

By his side, Mischief had trouble hearing him.

"Fine!" he shouted.

Flying above fields and a deserted road, Superboy turned around to glance at his companions.

"Fine." His answer was quieter, almost a normal volume "but what were you thinking using sonics against an Apolaxian?"

Turning around to look at the bright stars, Mischief tried to avoid Superboy's gaze. His words were directed at Blue Beetle, but Mischief had not a single idea of what he was talking about. He wasn't eager for Superboy to know that, though.

"Dude, never even heard of an appe-laxative before tonight!" Blue Beetle defended himself, waving his hand.

Mischief smirked. He bit his bottom lip.

Superboy didn't think it funny, he sighed in defeat.

"You freshmen never do the homework." He glanced back. "Haven't you read the case file on the League's first mission? Haven't you taken the guided tour of the Hall?"

"Those are rhetorical questions, right?" Mischief asked slowly.

Superboy rolled his eyes and turned around to look back at their path.

"The Apolaxians were an alien race of energy beings that attacked earth twelve years ago." He explained.

Mischief frowned "I was four years old, man, I can't remember that."

"They inhabited elemental host bodies," Superboy ignored his talking "including one made of crystal that could absorb and redirect a sonic attack."

"Oh." Blue Beetle didn't have much to say.

"So, what were they doing inside the hall?" Mischief asked.

"The original seven members of the League drove the energy beings off-world. The empty husks the aliens left behind became the League's first trophies."

"Ugly must have reactivated the husks," Mischief guessed "combined them somehow into a creature he could control."

Before him, Superboy nodded. "Sphere is tracking the device's Apocalyptan energy readings. We're closing in."


Ugly jumped out of the creature's palm, landing on the snow-covered forest by A'Daire's side. Behind them, silent, rueful howling and groaning filled the clearing.

"It sounds…" A'Daire stared at the creature with fallen eyes "sad."

Ugly typed more commandoes into his device. "Not go sentimental on me, A'Daire."

His eyes brushed her for a moment before returning to his device. A'Daire's back turned on the creature, her attention fully on her Boss.

"It's a construct of wood, stone, et cetera." Ugly continued typing "This gyzmo put together the residual psychic energy of its former alien hosts, but that monster doesn't feel anything."

He glanced at the creature with eyes of steel "And with this thing as my enforcer, I can expand Intergang's reach exponentially."

"Wow. Five syllabels."

Gasping, the criminal's eyes snapped up at the floating vehicle above them.

Mischief leaned over the railing "I didn't think you knew any words with more than two."

"Hilarious." Ugly's voice was anything but amused "But we'll see who's laughing when I—"

He looked down at his device, started typing commands—

"New Genesphere." Superboy told his alien vehicle "Jam all Apocalyptan signals in the area."

The device sizzled, cracked, burnt. Electricity streamed off its surface, shocking Ugly's hands. Crying out in pain, the criminal let the device fall on the snow. Smoke rose from the broken device.

A wooden foot immediately smashed it.

"Uh-oh." Ugly's eyes brushed the creature he had now no control of.

A fist of stone swung back, hit forward. The criminals were catapulted off their feet. They slid through the snow before remaining on the ground as heaps. Motionless.

Jumping upwards with an immense roar, the creature's fist found its way to the floating vehicle. Everything shook around the three young heroes. The Genesphere lost its balance, falling hard on the ground.

Mischief jumped off the vehicle just in time, landing on the snow with a roll. By his side, Superboy landed on one knee. Above their heads with spread wings, Blue Beetle remained untouched.

The creature let its body fall back on the floor, a blizzard rose off the ground, snow set into extreme motion by the creature's immense mass.

Covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve, Superboy held on to a tree. The giant storm in front of him blinding and soaking him.

On the other side of the clearing, Mischief glanced around. He had nothing to hold on to. Taking the decision he knew was the stupidest one, he jumped. His hands closed around a creature's arm. Grunting with immense effort to not fall, Mischief pulled his sia out of his belt, trying to cut the creature.

The snow cleared enough for Superboy to see. Immediately, he also jumped off his feet, landing on the creature's other arm.

Roaring in fury, the creature swung its entire body violently. Mischief lost his grip, his back landing on the snow as hard as if it were stone. Superboy flew through the air, flying into a tree, it broke in half, clearing his path.

Blue Beetle's armoured hands turned into hammers. Using the fall's momentum, he let himself fall on the creature, aiming for its face.

The moment his hammer hit its shoulder of stone, Blue Beetle bounced off. He screamed through the fall, landing hard on his back.

"I warned you that tactic would be ineffective."

Blue Beetle groaned, got on his knees and narrowed his eyes.

"Por favor!" he retorted "I'm trying to—"

A fist of wood suddenly landed on his back, smashing him, crushing him.

Every bit of air was knocked out of his lungs, his response died out. When the fist was gone, Blue Beetle had long lost consciousness.


A few kilometres away, two shadows observed the desperate guards as they fired at the Apocalytan creature, protecting the two reactor tubes behind them. The bullets bounced off the creature's chest. The alarm's pounding got louder, killed all the helpless commands and orders the guards tried to communicate.

"Mixing an Apolaxian husk with the potential for a nuclear meltdown could be a recipe for disaster-" a shadow's voice spoke, deeper than any other voice "—or hilarity. I haven't decided."

By his side, a female voice strong like fire replied. "Want me to stop the thing?"

"No. This incident, taken to its ultimate extreme, may prove useful." The deep shadow replied.

Before them, the creature's arm swung down, crushing the street right in front of the gate.

"But," the deeper voice spoke again. "you could deal with the interloper meat back in the clearing."

The woman smiled "Happy to oblige, partner."

As she stepped out of the shadow, the scar on her face gleamed under the moon's light. Her short hair brushed her cheeks and her guns her thighs as she crossed the woods, a smile of anticipation on her face.


Superboy smashed Ugly and A'Daire's back against the same tree, keeping them still with a firm grip around their clothes. The criminals grunted, shifted, tried to get away.

Ugly's hands closed around Superboy's forearm "You freed the beast, Super-Brat." He wriggled "Now no one's controlling the monster."

Superboy ignored the man.

"Blue, lock them down."

His armour's arms shifted again, turning into two staplers. The blue devices hissed as the metal was propelled out. They flew through the clearing, reaching the criminals within seconds.

The blue staples landed perfectly above their shoulders and beneath their armpits, locking both their arms to the tree. Superboy let go of their clothes, leaving them wriggling and desperately trying to get out of their situation.

"That tactic would be more effective if you fired through bone."

Blue Beetle shuddered "No!"

"Blue, let's go!" Mischief shouted behind him "Fight your inner demons later."

Blue Beetle's head snapped back, spotting his friends already getting on Sphere.

"Demon. Singular." He corrected and started walking towards the vehicle "One's enough. Believe me."


Groaning as loud as it could, the creature let its fists fall on the wall, breaking a bit of it after every punch. The guards had given up the fight, instead cowering behind fallen stone, hoping to get out of this alive.

The wall broke entirely, the creature's path cleared towards the two nuclear reactors.

Blue energy beams hit its chest, sending it stumbling off balance. Sphere's canon's retracted as the floating vehicle came to a halt right before the creature.

"Deploy!" Superboy and his team jumped off their seats "We can't let it breach the reactor!"

Breaking the pavement beneath him, Superboy landed on one knee before jumping back up again. Screaming as he cut through the air, Superboy hit the creature right in the chest, making it stumble backwards.

On the ground, Mischief fished a grappling hook from his belt, swinging it in circles a few times before thrusting his arm up, aiming at the creature's arm. Exactly as he had expected, the hook circled around the creature's limb before gripping one of its branches.

Grabbing tightly on to the rope and jumping off his feet, Mischief swung through the air. Pulled down by the young hero's entire body weight, the creature's stumbling got heavier, his stability shakier.

It growled in frustration, trying to shake the hook off.

The moment Mischief landed, he pulled down the rope with all his might. Blue Beetle's hands had turned into hammers again. At the same time, he came flying down the sky, hitting the creature's legs from behind.

Losing every bit of balance it had managed to retain, the creature swung back. Its back hit the ground hard, roaring and trying everything it could to get in its feet again.

Mischief pulled harder on the rope, using a rock as leverage to multiply his strength. Even so, his muscles were shivering with the effort. Superboy jumped on the other arm, using his Kryptonian strength to keep it down. Like Mischief, he was barely holding on.

"Lock it down!" Superboy shouted.

"Working on it!" Blue Beetle immediately replied, his armour already changing yet again into a stapler.

The creature moved. Mischief grunted. Superboy clenched his teeth.

The blue metal shot out of Blue Beetle's armour. One, two, three times. Soon enough the creature was held down by the blue, giant staples by his neck and arms.

It didn't last a second.

With a single movement, the staplers flew off the ground. The creature rose. Mischief grunted as the rope pulled him upward, his feet losing every contact to the ground.

The creature shook its other arm. Superboy lost his grip, was catapulted back. As he soared through the air, his back hit Blue Beetle, bringing them both down with a grunt.

Within the following second, the creature spotted the rope's end laying to his left. It stepped on it and catapulted its arm up. The rope tensed beneath Mischief's fingers for a second. Suddenly, it snapped. The fall was shorter than what Mischief would have expected. He landed on the ground with a groan, black dots blurring his vision.

Laying on his stomach, Blue Beetle groaned.

"I don't suppose we could just ask it to play nice." He looked up at the creature.

"Such a tactic would betray weakness." the scarab spat.

"Wait." Blue Beetle's eyes widened "You mean it's possible?"


Metal cracked. Containers fell to the floor. The creature growled and roared.

Taking a stand right behind the creature, Blue Beetle rose his arm, his armour turned into a sonic cannon.

"Stop, Blue!" Mischief and Superboy came running towards him "Sonics don't work!"

Blue Beetle glanced down at his sonic cannon "Not as an attack, but maybe—"

"Frequency adjusted." The scarab interrupted "Proceed."

Without hesitating, he fired. The sonic waves hit the creature, and something came back. Groaning in pain, Blue Beetle fell on his knee.

"Blue, Break off!" Mischief shouted fastening his pace "Whatever you're doing break off before it kills you!"

His hand closed around the cannon, trying to push it down, to direct it somewhere else.

Blue Beetle's other hand fell over his.

"No, it's not attacking!" he desperately announced. "It's communicating."

With shaking voice and limbs, he got on his feet "Communicating its pain!"

Superboy's eyes widened. Mischief's body froze.

"Listen!" Blue Beetle's eyes flashed orange "Where is the stillness of wood, of stone, of crystal, of metal?"

The creature turned around. If it had had eyes, they would've been firmly set on Blue Beetle.

"All this noise, all this life, is pain." Blue Beetle translated "We sense the power in this place—"

He pointed at the reactor "Power enough to destroy us, to end the pain, to be still again."

Superboy's eyes were frozen on Blue Beetle, something vulnerable in them, something broken.

"I can relate." He shook his head, turned to look at the creature, his eyes hardened "I mean—We can help you. We will help you."

Metres behind them, the shadow of the forest had stepped out of its hiding, getting nearer to observe the scene.

"Sorry, meat." it said to itself with the same deep voice "But we can't have that."

It rose its arm and fired. Waves of sound like none of them had ever heard before exploded, hitting the creature. Mischief groaned, pressed his hands against his ears. Superboy turned away, also holding his hands above his ears.

Blue Beetle screamed in pain, eyes widening like plates.

Rock cracked, crystal shattered, wood broke. Pieces of it all fell to the ground. The creature groaned in agony, falling to tiny pieces, losing every bit of itself. The gold in his chest heated up, expanded, the pressure grew.

It became too much.

With a single wave, the creature exploded. Light blinded everything and everyone for a moment. Then; rocks, wood and crystal rained like teardrops.

Blue Beetle's body lost the ability to hold itself.

Just in time, Superboy's hands snapped upward, catching him in time to soften the fall. Kneeling on the ground with one arm around Blue Beetle's shoulders, he let the fallen hero rest his head on his knee.

Mischief spun around, looking for whoever was responsible, looking for whatever had decided to attack the creature after they had understood it. Who had decided to kill it.

He only saw the small particles of gold, floating like ashes around them.

Two guards came running towards them, the fire behind them.

"Don't know who you guys are, but you took that thing down!" a man cried out in joy "Probably saved the whole east coast."

Blue Beetle's eyes opened, the rain of gold poured over him.

"It was alive." He whispered. He raised his open palm, caught a tear of gold. "And now, it's gone."

He looked at Superboy "Who attacked? Who killed it?"

The Kryptonian's eyes darkened "Someone ugly."


"I'm telling you, they're long—" Mischief's words died out in his lips the moment he stepped back into the clearing "—gone."

Blue Beetle's armour immediately turned into a scanner directed at the two criminals still hanging on the trees.

Mischief and Superboy walked over to Ugly and A'Daire. They hadn't moved a millimetre, but something had happened. Their bodies were completely numb, their heads hanging over their chests, their arms loosely by their side. Every bit of force and life squeezed out of them. Drool rolled down one side of their mouths, their eyes staring dulled into the void.

"They're alive. Breathing. Steady heartbeats." Blue Beetle ended his scan. "But non-responsive."

Superboy snapped his fingers before Ugly. Nothing. No response.

Mischief let his eyes wash over A'Daire, seeking anything that could point him in the direction of what had happened. On the ground, something dark, contrasting the white snow, caught his attention. It formed the shape of a footstep, a female one judging by the size. What surprised him was what it was made of.

He kneeled down, brushed it with his finger, took a look at it. There was no way he could mistake it for anything else.

Mountain ash.


"As requested," the hunter walked back to her partner's side "Ugly and Whisper are now a living warning to anyone else straying from the path of the light."

She glanced forward at the smoke next to the nuclear plant "But why blow up Gruesome? Seems like a wasted resource."

The deep voice answered slowly, calculatingly.

"A resource falling into enemy hands is a resource best disposed of."

"Partner," joy filled her every word "I like the way you think."


It was about 11 o'clock when Stiles returned to his house. Judging by the shut-off lights, he supposed his Dad had already gone to sleep, probably thought he had been hanging out with Scott.

Walking into his room, Stiles smiled at the thought of what the pack had done that evening, that night. He wondered whether there had been a pack nigh after training and if so, how it had gone with the five visitors. Looking at everthing from the outside, their predicament was rather entertaining and amusing.

Wanting to know what had happened, Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket. As he sat down on the edge of his bed, he texted Scott, telling him he was back and wanted to know everything that had happened.

After he'd brushed his teeth, put his pyjamas on and done his homework, Stiles frowned when he glanced at his phone, wondering why Scott wasn't answering.

It was Friday night. Scott usually didn't sleep until 12 pm., neither did he leave his phone abandoned.

Ignoring the seed of worry planted in his chest, Stiles went to bed.


His muscles were sore when he woke up. No matter how hard he trained, being thrown and pushed around would never get any less painful. One half of his consciousness still asleep, Stiles' turned in his sheets, hiding in its softness, its cold touch.

His lids fluttered open when he remembered. His heart suddenly throbbing in his heart, Stiles' hand reached for his mobile phone on the nightstand.

It was about 9 o'clock.

No message of Scott.

The seed sprouted.

Taking in a deep breath, Stiles opened his messages. Looked at Scott's status. He'd last been active yesterday 6:13 pm.

A leaf took shape.

Sitting up, Stiles scrolled down, checked his contacts, checked their status. None of the pack had been active after 7 pm. His blood was now rushing through his veins, Stiles did the first thing that came to mind.

I'm being paranoid, he repeated to himself, what is the worst that could happen?

Scott wouldn't answer his phone. No matter how many times he called. When Melissa did, she told Stiles Scott had told her he'd be at Derek's until late at night. She had gone to sleep before he'd returned and gone to work before he'd woken. She hadn't seen him.

It was only minutes and Stiles was dressed and ready to go. He found a note on the table, his Dad telling him he didn't have to cook tonight, there was still some food from yesterday left. His Dad's shift would end at about 2 pm, he'd come back home then.

Not bothering to have some breakfast, Stiles got on his jeep, drove to Scott's. No one opened the door. He knocked and waited for several minutes. Without a response.

After a couple of minutes, Stiles had enough. Walking over to the back of the house, Stiles glanced around to make sure nobody was around and started climbing. Usually he'd pretend his was far too difficult for him, but right now he didn't care.

Splitters were stuck on his fingers when he managed to force the window open. Jumping into Scott's room a wave of stuffy air hit his face. The blue-sheeted bed was perfectly made, his bag laying carelessly on the floor.

The plant inside his chest was becoming a flower.

Trying to calm his breathing down, Stiles walked down the corridor, knocked on every door he could find. Walked down the stairs; did the same thing.

The house was deserted.

His next stop was Derek's loft.

The moment he knocked on the door and no one opened, the flower blossomed. Panic threatened to take over him, every part of him yelling, shouting that something wasn't right. Something was very wrong.

Batman's voice echoed through his head.

Be brave, Mischief. When the night seems darkest, take control of it. Sometimes, you can be your only light.

And Stiles took control of it. He pulled a clip from his shoe, something Batman had also taught him, cracked the lock, opened the door.

Like Scott's house, it was deserted.

The fridge was full, the living room tidy.

The pack hadn't been here.

Whatever had happened, it had happened before pack night. That matched his contact's information. That's why they'd all been inactive for so long.

Stiles drove to the last place they would've gone before pack night.

The clearing for training.

The moment he stepped into it, he knew something had happened. Something more than training. His heart was racing at full speed as he walked around. He was surrounded by broken branches, the crumbled bushes, the ripped-out grass.

His eyes suddenly caught something on the floor.

A red, almost brown colour, tainting the green grass. Stiles immediately crouched, took a look at it, made sure it was what he thought. Blood.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Something had happened.

Glancing down, he found more.

Dried out puddles, like apples scattered on a tree.

Stiles shook his head, trying to find more. Something. Anything that could help him figure out what had happened.

It didn't take him long.

It was also on the floor, hidden in plain sight. A black powder, a green powder and a yellow sticky substance.

Mountain ash and wolfsbane.

Stiles let himself fall defeated on the floor. Numbers and calculations running through his mind. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands, it didn't take long for him to gather what had happened.

Hunters.

Not the Argents. But others.

Stiles took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, tried to keep his body still.

They weren't dead. He would've found the bodies if that was the case.

Hunters.

Stiles opened his eyes, looked down at his hands. They shook, trembled like his entire world.

Hunters.

The pack was gone.

They'd been taken.

By hunters.


Thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked the chapter. :D

If you've got anthing you'd like to say, please do so! I really appreaciate all feedback I can get! Reading reviews always makes my day! I also would really appreciate any kind of constructive criticism to improve my writing.

Thank you a lot MultiFandomLover99.On the one hand I'm sorry you are conflicted, but in the other hand, I'm glad you are getting the feeling the story is supposed to transmit. So, I hope you don't get too conflicted but I can't promise to resolve the conflict quite easily. :D

Orinastro, thank you again. I'm really glad you liked the chapter. :D

Finally, WildRosa13474, thank you a lot for helping me out! I've always had trouble with that specific thanks to you, it's now corrected. :)

(Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. If you see anything, it would be awesome if you told me so that I can correct it.)

Have a nice day!

Melpomene :D