It was to bemusement and curiosity that Bruce stared at the gigantic computer screen. The view was shaky due to the constant movements of the camera. Cassandra's face filled out most of the screen, her eyes alight with an intense focus. At the corner of her mouth, the tip of her tongue was poking out, her lips pulled together tightly as her face took on a concentrated stare.
Turning his chair around, the dark-haired man quickly located the girl, who was seated on the floor of the cave, her legs crossed in front of her in what children referred to as "Indian-style." In one hand she held her Batgirl mask, one that had been modified recently. Where the eye holes were now had black lens in place, the source of the footage currently playing out on the super-computer.
It had been a curious choice, Bruce admitted. When he had been making the modifications to the Batgirl armor, Cassandra had taken an active role in what was apart of its makeup. Seeing as she would be the one using it, Bruce allowed her to direct him with how to upgrade the suit. Though she had been puzzled by the camera lens he wanted to place in the mask, she had defiantly refused the standard white lens he used, urging for the black ones.
And yet, Cassandra still wasn't happy with the final product. Since yesterday she had been staring at the mask, trying to puzzle out what she found wrong with it. Now though, it seemed she had found some sort of solution, one she hadn't shared yet with the billionaire.
There was sewing supplies placed around the girl, who held her mask in one hand. With the other, she was placing in a recently-cut piece of Kevlar in the mouth hole. Watching in his own armor, his mask lying on the computer console behind him, Bruce observed her actions as she finally reached out to a pre-threaded needle and moved it to the mask.
The moment she began sewing the Kevlar piece onto the mask, Bruce couldn't help but narrow his eyes. Already an image of what the mask would look like flashed into his mind and he wasn't sure he quite liked it. It reminded him too much of the Talon mask, albeit with bat features. He wasn't sure if this was some dormant training, or memory that demanded she dress that way or not, but he would need to monitor her closely should other parts of her past decide to force certain fatal instincts.
Resisting the urge to sigh, Bruce turned away from the girl as she worked, hitting a button on the keyboard to remove the accumulating footage. The lens worked, so that test was finished.
Fingers dancing in a practiced motion on the keys, a new window popped up, one of a headline of a newspaper from Toronto. A large picture of a wealthy man being escorted by Canadian Mounties soaked up his attention. That was the latest bust in his on-going crusade against the Court of Owls. The man's name didn't really matter at this point, but the ones he had given up upon interrogation were.
Silently, Bruce considered a thought. Perhaps the next few Court members would be a good opportunity to test Cassandra in the field. Ever since his bust of Theodore van Haussen, more and more Court members had been keeping Talons as guards for his impending arrival. He had no doubt the next target would do the same. Having Cassandra fight skilled fighters with the intent to kill her would place her in a unique situation she might not find herself again. Fighting Gotham thugs was one thing; fighting deadly martial artists was a whole different league.
A soft, sharp sound was made, causing Bruce to frown. If he wasn't mistaken, it sounded as if a needle had been dropped on the floor. Spinning his chair around, he found Cassandra holding up her mask at face level, her arms extended out as far as they would reach. Turning her head around, a look of joy was on her face, much like an excited child who had ripped through their Christmas presents.
If there was any doubt in Bruce's mind of taking the girl in when he had, they were wiped away at this very moment. When he had first encountered her, she had been an emotionless robot. After saving her, she had slowly, yet gradually lost that cold exterior, acting more and more childlike. Of course, situation dictated how she acted; when it came to the Court of Owls case file, she was completely serious. She was the same way too when she demanded he wake up in the morning. However, when she learned a new word, one of the few she had come to master, her entire face would light up, soaking in his praise as much as she could.
"Bring it here," the dark-haired man said as he rested comfortably in his chair. Jumping up onto her feet, Cassandra quickly hurried over to him, thrusting her mask towards him to show her work.
The image Bruce had when he figured out what she was doing was definitely off. He had been expecting something closer to a full face mask with no evidence to the changes made. Instead, he could plainly differentiate between the mask and the additional Kevlar. Large stitches were observable, connecting the two pieces together. There was a menacing effect to the look.
After staring at the final product for awhile, Bruce found himself glancing to Cassandra. Apparently he must have been staring for a long time because the excited look on her face had dulled, a sense of uncertainty beginning to show in her body language. Looking at her for a moment, Bruce finally let the corner of his mouth twitch up, forming a small smile.
That was all it took for Cassandra's exuberance to return full force, a huge smile threatening to swallow her entire face. She then spun around, once more holding her mask up high as she regarded it before she began to wander towards a mannequin stand. On it was the rest of her armor, gleaming in the lighting of the cave.
A sigh left Bruce's lips. The day she took that suit out for her first patrol was coming quickly. He wasn't sure if he was going to be ready for that. Turning back around to look at the image of the Toronto newspaper, he considered his idea again.
It really wasn't a bad one at all.
Suddenly, a beeping sound filled the cave, causing the billionaire's eyes to narrow. That was the sound to his Justice League communicator reporting an incoming transmission. Hitting a flashing button on his keyboard, he spoke in a gravelly tone, "Batman here."
"Batman," the voice of Wonder Woman flowed through the speakers, an urgent tone noticeable. "There's a situation in Central City. We need you to come to HQ immediately."
Instantly, Bruce was pulling his mask on, activating its systems a moment later. "Do I have time to fly there, or—"
"No, we're prepping the transporter. Prepare for transport in sixty seconds."
That caused Batman to frown. Typing on the keyboard, he hacked into the Central City Traffic Control Grid. It was a simple program to run, taking no more than ten, fifteen seconds max. A grid of windows appeared on his screen, showing a multitude of images of various traffic cameras throughout the city.
What he saw he didn't like.
Life in Central City was always an adventure and a fun one at that. The people were friendly, the ones that weren't usually kept to themselves, and the bad ones rarely poked their heads out of the holes they hid themselves in unless they thought that maybe, just maybe, they were fast enough to pull a job.
Of course, there was no one faster than the Flash.
Case in point, the First Central Bank was currently being robbed. Flash had been clear across town, enjoying one of Pete's World Famous Burgers when a police officer was hailed over his radio about the crime-in-progress. Someone had tripped the silent alarm apparently. Graciously polishing off his burger, Flash took off through the streets, arriving mere seconds outside the bank itself.
The doors had been damage, that much he could see. Someone had a itchy trigger finger since the damage had been caused by gunfire. Because there wasn't a door in his way, he could still hear someone demanding, "—on the floor and no one gets hurt!"
Time to make an introduction.
The world slowing around him, Flash ran into the bank, coming to a stop right next to the bank vault. Because the door was still shut, the hero took to leaning his back against it, arms crossed over his chest as he lazily looked at the crooks and, man, were they just cliche! Ski masks, black turtlenecks, and Uzis—what more could a bank robbery ask for?
No one had noticed him either, the robbers facing the trembling bank employees and customers on the floor. There were a ton of things the red-clad man could have done, or said at that moment, but he decided simple was best.
"Ahem."
Whipping around, the robbers stared at him owlishly, surprised by his awesomeness. "Ya know, guys, I would get a different tailor if I were you. I mean, you couldn't have worn anything else that didn't scream you were bad guys."
"Crap, it's the Flash!" one of the gunman cried.
"And pleased to make your acquaintance," Flash replied, though it was obvious those words weren't directed at him. "So how about you guys just put your guns down and—"
"I'll put you down!" one of the robbers screamed as he began raising his gun.
In the blink of an eye, Flash was running. Each man seemed to be going in slow motion as he approached them, each one trying to point their weapons at the hero.
First thing's first, he needed to disarm these guys before someone got hurt. Starting from the right and moving left, Flash snatched each and every gun he spotted, even the ones hanging in their holsters. In a red blur, he took the guns and stashed them in a nearby, and more importantly empty, office. Faintly, he was aware of the big clock hanging above the entrance, the seconds hand clicking to the right by one.
By the time it moved a second time, Flash had raced by each and every one of the robbers, grabbing the waistband of their underwear and stretching them up as high as he could before he wrapped them around each man's head. An atomic wedgie was just what Dr. Flash ordered.
By the time he stopped, standing on top of the bank counter, each robber was crying out in surprise, their heads uncomfortably pulled back. There were a lot of tighty-whities showing, two men having opted for boxers, even though that didn't save them the indignity of being wedgie-fied. One guy even lost his balance and fell backwards, landing hard on his rump as he let out a howl.
"Now, I'm not a cruel guy," Flash said as he watched humorously as the robbers waved their arms around, a few trying to undo his handiwork, "so I'll give you all a choice. Surrender before I get really serious, or keep resisting and be ready for more pain."
"You won't get away with this!" one of the men shouted.
Smile dropping from his face, Flash then took off, closing the distance between him and the enraged robber, and slammed his fist into the man's face. Said robber dropped to the floor in a heap, never to wake up a free man again.
In the blink of an eye, he was back on top of the counter, hands casually resting on his hips. "Anyone else want to sound like a corny cartoon villain?" the Fastest Man Alive asked.
It seemed his words got through this time too as each remaining man decided to sit down as best they could, not even a whimper coming out of their mouths. Smirking, Flash dusted his hands off, officially done with his job.
"Thanks a lot, Flash," a security guard said, approaching the bank counter as he adjusted the hat on his head. "I think my partner and I can take care of everything from here."
"That's what I like to hear, Charlie," Flash said before he hopped off the counter, landing on the floor. "They're all yours."
The next moment, Flash was running out the bank door, leaving a red blur in his wake. However, he wasn't fast enough not to hear the guard say, "But my name's Richard."
Whoops.
Reaching the street and taking a sharp left, Flash was blocks away by the time he hit traffic. Considering it was late afternoon, it wasn't as heavy as it would be soon. Keeping to the center line, he passed between cars before they even knew he was there. At one point he slowed down to wave hi to a kid in the backseat, right before he sped up again.
These were the times Flash enjoyed most, just seeing everyone going about their way, little kids staring at him with bug eyes as he passed by. It meant that everything was humming along, no monkey wrenches wrecking up the works.
Of course, there were two such wrenches. One was of the criminal persuasion that he had ended effortlessly. The second was human error. See, people weren't born with the innate ability to drive a car and do something else, not without screwing up someone's day royally.
As it so happened, six intersections down, that very scenario played out. The only warning Flash got was the blaring of a car horn and the squealing of tires scraping on the pavement as two cars crashed into each other. It was a beauty of a T-bone wreck as one car rammed its bumper right into the side of another. The cars nearest the wreck hit their collective breaks, red lights flashing down each lane of cars like a columns of dominoes.
Flash was the only one that didn't slow down, not that he had to worry about hitting a car in front of him. Instead he picked up speed, racing down the center strip and stopping right next to the broad-sided car. Dust and dirt were kicked up as he slid to a stop, his hand grabbing onto the front door handle and opening it.
"Hey, you okay in here?" Flash asked as he poked his head in.
The driver was a cross between hurting and anger. "How the hell do you think I am, ya moron!" he screamed, incensed eyes glaring daggers at the hero. "That idiot just totaled my car! And my neck hurts! I am so suing their ass!"
And that's where Flash got off. It was fine helping people out and all, but when someone was threatening legal action, he found it best to be the fastest person out of there. "Ah, well, you just stay where you are. Don't want you hurting anything else and all. I'll just be—"
Streaking around the car, Flash raced to the other vehicle before finishing, "—checking on the other driver." Peaking through what was once a window, shards of glass lying all over the ground and inside the car, Flash noticed a woman leaning forward, her forehead pressed against the steering wheel, eyes squeezed shut.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" he inquired.
"I...I think so," the woman mumbled out. "Oh God, I did not need this today. I'm so going to be late!"
And people had their priorities all over the place. This was going to be fun...not. Resisting the urge to sigh, Flash held a hand out to the woman. "We're going to take this easy, ma'am. I'm going to get you out of your car. We'll settle everything else once everyone isn't sitting in this wreck."
Instead of taking his head, the woman continued to sit in her seat, pressing her head harder against the steering wheel. Of course, that's when the guy in the other car just had to make himself known.
"Hey, bitch! You totaled my car!"
Some people…
Turning around, Flash said sternly, "Hey, back off. She didn't mean to hit you. You go stand over there and chill out, alright?"
The man gave him an incredulous look. "You must be joking, heh," he barked back. "I got freaking T-boned! That doesn't just happen by accident!"
This guy was looking for a fight, no question about that. The best way to defuse things was to get him as far away from the woman as possible. In a red blur, Flash raced towards the man, picking him up and carrying him to the sidewalk, right where a bunch of bystanders just happened to be standing. Coming to a stop, he placed the man down on the sidewalk, a slight wind blowing up some dust from his running. The man blinked his eyes for a moment, trying to process all that happened.
"Now you just stand right there and I'll get back to you. So chill out," Flash ordered before he took off back towards the woman. Arriving there in the blink of an eye, he found she was still how he left her. "Sorry about that, ma'am, but some guys can be total jerks."
The women giggled, "hee hee," in response before she glanced to him with gratefulness. "Thank you. This is just too...heh heh."
And then she began to chuckle. It was a little weird and the woman even admitted as much. "I don't know why I'm laughing," she said between chuckles. "I just can't help it."
In his time as a hero, Flash had seen many things, but every once in awhile someone would just start laughing for no better reason than as a defense mechanism. He was willing to bet that was what was going on now. "Hey, sometimes we can't help it. You just have to laugh. Why, I remember getting this mustard stain on my costume once and that sucker just wouldn't come out. I spent an entire afternoon trying to get it out!"
That made the woman laugh harder, tears beginning to leak out. Flash couldn't help but smile at that. It was a definite improvement over her near-crying.
Apparently his story was a good one as he picked up the sounds of giggling from around him. Heh, he knew he was a funny guy. Who knew he could make something as mundane as stain removal funny? Perhaps he needed to pick up a new day job after all.
"I'm gonna pound your skull in, you bitch, ha ha!"
Flash couldn't help but scowl. Turning around, he saw the man again, though he looked paler than he had a few moments ago. Couldn't that guy just stay out of this? He was only going to make things worse. "Hey, buddy, I already told you to—"
Blatantly ignoring him, the man stormed up towards Flash, placing a hand on the red-clad hero to push him aside. Surprisingly the man had some strength as he shoved him back a couple steps. Getting over his astonishment, Flash immediately darted in front of the man and put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Nuh uh, you're not going anywhere near her."
The man barked out with laughter. "You ain't stopping nothing, you pyjama-wearing nerd! Ha ha ha!" It was at this point Flash couldn't help but notice the man's eyes were beginning to bulge out of their sockets, his lips taking on a noticeable red. The veins in his neck were practically popping out as his mouth twisted into a wide smile. "And I don't care if I have to rip you to pieces to get to her!"
"I want a piece of him too!" Surprise covered Flash's face before he jerked his head around. The woman in the car was climbing out, her face looking exactly like the man, a cackling laughter slipping out of her grinning mouth.
"Uhh, you two hold onto that thought for a second," Flash spoke before he took off, dashing towards one side of the intersection before stopping. Looking back at the wrecked cars as the two driver continued to laugh, the red-clad hero couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on. One moment they were pissed about a wreck, the next they seemed to want a piece of the speedster.
"I wonder if his blood is just as red as his costume, ha ha!"
Whipping around, the bystanders he had left the male driver with were closing in on him, their faces pale with wide smiles, arms raised up ready to grab at him at an instant. Flash couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach, confusion addling his mind.
Seriously, what the hell was going on here?!
The moment a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind, the speedster reacted, spinning around to see one of those smiling ghouls bearing down at him. "Hands off!" he shouted as he slammed a fist into the man's face, knocking him clear off his feet and sending him tumbling to the ground.
Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, followed by a body ramming into his back. As if that were a cue, more and more of these grinning people jumped at him, piling on him as they dragged him down towards the ground. On instinct Flash struggled, trying to wiggling himself out of the vice-like grip he found himself in. A chorus of creepy laughter filled the air as he found himself losing the battle.
No...no! Not like this!
Fear filled Flash and he reacted much like he had done as a little boy: try to get away as fast as possible. Since he still had his feet holding him up, albeit with his legs bent at the knee, he straightened his legs as much as he could with the crushing weight of bodies on top of him. Immediately, he began spinning around at super-speeds, his body becoming a miniature, red tornado.
The arms that held him were slowly pulled away from him as people were thrown off of him and through the air. This caused a small space to form around him and the crowd of giggling maniacs. The moment he stopped spinning, Flash bolted, a red streak that blasted through the mob, knocking bodies out of his way as he did so.
Soon, he was all by himself, racing down the street. Reaching a new intersection, one that was coincidentally empty of cars for some reason, Flash finally came to a stop, his head turned to look in the direction he had just came from. His heart was pounding in his chest, though it wasn't from the exertion.
"Heh heh."
Flash stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head and found himself in an eerily familiar position. Pale-faced people were approaching him from the sidewalk much like the ones at the previous intersection were. It was deja vu all over again.
Oh no, not this again. Steeling his face, Flash didn't let these new freakazoids swarm him, blasting off down the street instantly. Arms pumping at his side, he raced from intersection to intersection, down one road and then another. Eyes darting from side to side, he searched for a place didn't wasn't filled with cackling hyena people.
Of course, that's when a car tried to hit him.
Catching sight of it as it swerved at him, Flash forced himself to slow down, allowing what turned out to be a cop car to pull in front of him. Moving into the lane the squad car had been in previously, the red-clad man sped up until he could peer into the car through the open front passenger window.
The sight of a cop with a wide smile on his face looking back at him was the last thing he wanted to see.
He needed to get off the road. It was obvious this guy wanted a giant red Flash spatter on his squad car and that would endanger too many people. Speeding up, the hero dashed away from the police car, leaving it in his dust. Reaching a T-intersection up ahead, the hero didn't bother changing directions as much as he changed angles, his world doing a sharp ninety degree angle the moment his foot touched the building. He shot up the side of the structure until he reached the top, his momentum carrying him up into the air before gravity forced him back, Flash landing on top of the building easily.
Okay, dude, you need to start making some sense out of this because nothing is. Taking a deep breath, Flash attempted to calm himself. He didn't work very well when he was anxious and this situation was definitely making him feel that way. Once he calmed down, he'd start putting two and two together.
Unfortunately, no amount of deep breaths would help as he noticed rising clouds of smoke scattered throughout the city. A horrified expression covering his face, Flash began looking in all directions, seeing more and more smoke clouds beginning to rise. Darting from one side of the building to the other, Flash began seeing people running through the streets, purposefully causing damage wherever they went. Though faint, he could make out the cackling hyena laughter as Central City was changed into a war zone—hell, it was beginning to look like a zombie apocalypse and not the good kind either.
Then again, what zombie apocalypse was a good one?
His hand began to tremble at his side. He…he didn't know what to do. Sure he had seen his fair share of city-wide crises, even world-wide ones at times, but none of them had been like this, the denizens of Central City being the cause of the destruction rather than fleeing from it. This happened in more violence-ridden cities, never here, where the people were kind and happy and willing to give him free food at a moment's notice.
He...he needed some help.
Shakily, he raised his hand up and somehow managed to activate his Justice League communicator. "Flash to League, Flash to League, I've got an emergency here."
What followed was perhaps the longest ten seconds of his life. Time was normally slow for him, but in this instance it truly dragged until he heard the familiar and comforting tone of J'onn answer him. "This is League Headquarters, state your emergency, Flash."
Staring out into the unraveling city, Flash had many words that passed through his head, but only one of them really stuck.
"Armageddon, J'onn. Armageddon."
