Reply to Zarthrax: Thank you, and I've got something special planned for that. It's a ways out though, so don't except it anytime soon.

Power Girl #2

Cover: I blond teenaged girl is sitting up on a vermillion couch with her left hand between her face and a bright circular light set above her feet. The rest of the room is cast into darkness save for a door at the far side of the room and to the right of the girl. Standing in the shadowy doorway are two silhouettes, one slim and masculine, the other slender and feminine.

+JLL+

I woke up to a bright light. For a moment, I thought I had died until I noticed the lumpy bed I was laying on and how hungry I felt. I was positively ravenous. I picked up quiet murmuring off to the side, which stopped as soon as I noticed it. Where was I? What happened? I think someone found me, but who?

"Hello," a soft female voice said as two pairs of footsteps approached me from my left.

I opened my eyes, but the bright light was enough to practically blind me and a squeezed them shut again as I groaned in response.

"Not feeling great, huh?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Well, you should eat something then," she said. There was a brief pause. "Get her something to eat, he should have something in the kitchen."

"Really?" a man asked. "I thought he just lived on spite and bullheadedness alone." I heard him take a step back. "Okay, okay, I'm going. Anything you want, kiddo?"

"No…" I replied through a parched throat.

"A glass of water or orange juice," the woman suggested.

"Got it," the man said before walking away.

I turned my head towards the woman and held up a shaking hand between my face and the light. Once that was done I opened my eyes to look at her. She had taken a seat on a metal stool and was watching me with green eyes framed by mousy red hair. She wore a white shirt, a verdant green vest, and blue slacks with pinstripes. Her hands were crossed under her chest and in her right hand was clutched a green mask of what looked like leaves. I guessed that she was in her late twenties to early thirties.

She smiled warmly at me. "I suppose introductions are in order," she said before switching the mask to her left and holding out her right. "I'm Amy, nice to meet you, even if the circumstances aren't that great."

I reach out to her with my right hand and shook hers. "Victoria. You saved me?"

She nodded, warm smile still on her face. "Yeah, let me guess: this was your first time using your powers in a fight?"

I twitched, my hand clenching a bit and Amy wincing. I immediately let go of her hand. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't worry about it," she assured me. "I'm fine. You're not the first person with super strength to shake my hand. Flying brick, right?"

"Yeah." Lot of good it did me, or that woman I left in the alley…

"Hey, don't feel bad about whatever happened," Amy said to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Why not?" I asked, looking down at the floor. "I tried to save her – a woman being mugged – and ended up nearly getting killed. I'm a flying brick, Wonder Woman type, like you said. How does that even happen?"

"Have you ever fought with your powers before? Or even fought at all?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I learned some self-defense, but this was my first night with powers. Fat lot of good it did."

She squeezed my shoulder gently, but I didn't quite feel the pressure on my skin. "You shouldn't feel bad, Victoria. Even with powers, it takes courage and dedication to be a hero and stand up to people who want to hurt others."

I sighed. "I know… I just wish I were better at it."

She leaned forward so that her face was in front of mine. "Everyone wishes that, and you're just getting started. Do you think Superman was always some unstoppable hero? That he really could save everyone? No, he failed, and even now he doesn't save everyone even though he tries. He even gets hurt."

I frown and look at her in surprise. "What?"

She nodded. "It's true. Doomsday nearly killed him, and back when Lex Luthor was President in the nineties, he put together this alien tech powered armor that could shoot beams capable of hurting him. I actually had to heal him after a blast caught him in the chest."

I opened my mouth in shock. Everyone knew about his fight with Doomsday, and there were others who found ways to hurt him with things like sonic cannons or copious amounts of electricity, but Lex Luthor nearly killed him with an energy beam? What was he shooting?

"How?" she asked rhetorically, an eyebrow raised. "I'm not sure, but it was green and the blast was enough to put Superman down until I healed him. Luthor and his army of 'heroes' didn't last very long after Manhunter and Wonder Woman showed up with what had to be almost a quarter of the League's entire worldwide strength. Of course, if Congress hadn't seen fit to impeach him and try him and his cronies for what they'd been up to I imagine things would have been bad for us all."

I remembered learning about that in history class. Luthor had tried to use fear of the super powered to try and reign in heroes and the Justice League, but other countries had seen it as efforts to create a government controlled army of super heroes and the Justice League had been able to convince Congress to water down the legislation to just registering super hero identities with the PRT. After that, Luthor had let his apparently massive grudge against Superman get the better of him and recruited super villains and mercenaries the world over to ambush the Man of Steel in a battle that leveled half of Washington DC where Luthor injected himself with something that made him as strong as Superman, if only for a short time. During the battle, Batman recorded and broadcast footage of his ranting confession of staging events all to kill Superman and with that Congress decided that he wasn't fit to remain in office any longer.

Now he was sitting in a Maximum Security prison somewhere, if not the Birdcage itself.

"I don't really know what he used in the suit though," Amy confessed. "I think it blew up around the time he used the Superman serum."

"But you healed him?" I asked. "Superman?"

Amy straightened and shrugged. "It was better than letting that megalomaniac with a god complex win. But, in fairness he probably would have recovered in a few minutes either way given his regeneration. I just thought that getting him back on his feet quicker would be a good idea."

"You telling her about that time you watched Superman beaten up by Baldie?" the man asked as he walked back in carrying a tray of food. "I heard it was pretty exciting."

"Yeah, exciting isn't always good," Amy replied to him as he walked up. She turned back to me and set her hands on my shoulders. "Sit up and eat," she told me. "You'll be hungry."

As if on que, my stomach rumbled. I sat up and the man set his tray on my lap. It had a banana, two apples, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of orange juice.

"Thanks," I told him before devouring the sandwich in just a few bites; dignity such as it was forgotten in my hunger. It was delicious, thought I don't know if it was actually that good or that it was the first thing I had eaten in however long I'd been out. Once I finished off the sandwich, I gulped down the orange juice only to stop when I saw their amused looks. I flushed in embarrassment and Amy laughed.

"Don't mind us," the man said. "Oh, and I'm Ray, nice to meet you." He held out his hand. He seemed somewhat scruffy with his unkempt dark hair, rough around the edges as though he was uncomfortable in his business casual white shirt and dark grey suit pants. The stained lab coat he wore looked much more lived in.

I shook his hand, more carefully this time. "Victoria. Thanks for helping me."

He shook his head and held up his hands. "Oh, no. That was all Amy here." He put his left hand on Amy's shoulder and she put on of her hands on top of his with a smile. "She's a miracle worker. Not that you needed a miracle."

"I was almost dead," I replied solemnly, my appetite gone as my gaze fell to the tray.

"Hey," Ray said, "everyone has bad days. As long as you don't end up going a villain and covering a city in vines or something." He glanced at Amy. "Though using only strategically placed leaves and vines for your costume makes up for it." He then looked back at me and cleared his throat. "Um, not that you should wear that sort of thing, Victoria. You're too young for that."

Amy looked at him archly before leaning towards him and quietly murmuring in his ear. "If I'd known you liked that costume, I might have worn it more often." She straightened and looked at me. "But, yes. Not the proudest days of my life."

"You were a villain?" I asked. And then it clicked. "You were Poison Ivy! You're Panacea!"

Amy sighed and nodded. "I had to ask someone good with image to help me show I'd turned over a new leaf -" Ray interrupted with a barked laugh and Amy shot him a glare. "And now I'm Panacea. That's not a proper name for probably the most powerful biokinetic on Earth."

Ray leaned towards me, held up a hand to cover his mouth from Amy and stage whispered. "You should have seen the costume he nearly made her wear."

Amy shuddered. "Going back to Arkham would have been better than wearing that."

"Arkham?" I asked.

She sighed and nodded. "Every parahuman goes through something pretty traumatic to Trigger, and to quote certain tosser you should never meet, 'All power has a price.'" Her quote included an lackluster attempt at a British accent. "The point is that everyone suffers bad days. It's part of the package of being a getting powers, of being a hero, but you don't have to be one if you don't want to."

"I do," I replied. It's what I'd been raised to do. It's what was expected of me. It's what I'd always wanted.

She sighed. "Okay, then why don't you finish eating -" She held up a hand. "I know that you don't feel hungry, but you are. Eat, your body needs the fuel." I looked at the banana and reluctantly picked it up. I looked up to see her smiling encouragingly, so I peeled the banana and took a bite. "Good, now finish up and we can call your parents."

I forced myself to swallow.

"We can save that for later," Ray suggested. "I'm sure they're worried, but if you want we can wait."

I sighed and took another bite, chewed and swallowed. "I should call them. How long have I been out?"

"Only about twenty minutes," Amy admitted. "I just think that you might want to call them."

I shook my head. "I can just fly back later." I don't think they'd even notice. "I need to pick something up from school anyway, my clothes." It was at that point that I consciously recognized that I wasn't wearing my basketball team uniform. Instead, I was wearing a shapeless green Tee Shirt and hiker shorts. I looked at the clothes I was wearing and then back up at Amy and Ray in question.

She smiled. "You needed something to wear. I'm afraid you'll need new gym clothes."

I looked back down at my clothes. "I don't think I'll need new ones, actually."

"Yeah," Ray agreed, "Brutes aren't allowed to play in normal-only sports. Well, I remember that case where they said that people couldn't discriminate on that basis, but that hasn't ended 'polite suggestions' that parahumans leave sports teams."

That really was the case. I remember reading about a kid in Boston, going by Weld, who had tried to join one of his school's sports teams and been denied even though they had space, just because he was made of metal. Did I really think getting my powers would solve anything at school? If it didn't change anything there, would it actually help with my parents? Dad would still be depressed, and Mom would still be busy with being a hero. Well, she might have more time for me since I'd be on at least a few of the same patrols as her. But would that matter? Was silently following Mom around for people to take pictures of us worth it?

"Victoria?" Ray asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I replied before taking another bite.

"Okay…"

I silently ate the rest of the banana and set down the peel. I picked up the apple and turned it around in my hands.

Amy clapped her hands together and stood up. "You know what? This calls for chocolate ice cream. Barely escaping death always does." I looked up at her in surprise.

"It's practically a tradition," Ray agreed. "I don't know if he actually has any though."

Amy shrugged. "He's rich and Tim and Colin are always dropping by here to nag him and eat his food. He's got to have something."

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Colin?" he asked, radiating skepticism. "Colin dropping by to raid the Old Man's fridge?" He laughed. "I need to see this happen."

Amy laughed too. "He doesn't come by just for food. That 'wouldn't be efficient.'" She took hold of the tray and smiled at me. "Come on, Victoria. Let's see what he's got in his freezer."

I returned her smile. I didn't know who Colin was, but I got the impression that he sounded like Armsmaster. Imagining him dropping by someone's house to raid there fridge was pretty funny. "Okay, sounds like fun."

"Great!" Amy exclaimed. She turned to Ray and handed him the tray, then turned back to me and took my hand. "Let's go."

We walked through large hallways with tiled slate grey floors and dark mahogany walls and black ceilings. It was a grand, gloomy place full of old Gothic decorations and solemn portraits and other grim paintings on the walls. Wherever we were was old, and definitely a mansion of some sort. As we walked through the hallway, I looked behind me to see a wide and tall glass window looking out into the night with the towers of Gotham glowing faintly in the distance.

We're in the Wayne Mansion. I stumbled when I realized where we were; only avoiding falling on my face by virtue of being able to fly.

Amy turned back to me, an inquisitive expression on her face and the corner of her mouth turned up. "Something wrong?"

"I… we're in Wayne Mansion," I said. "You know him?"

Amy shrugged. "He's my sort-of grandfather, since he was like a father to my own adopted father Timothy Drake. So, I guess that means I have five grandfathers: my two biological ones, my two foster grandfathers, and my sort-of grandfather."

"So who does that make your sort-of grandmother?" Ray asked form slightly ahead of us.

Amy pursed her lips in thought a moment before shrugging and continuing on. "I don't actually know. Maybe Barbara?" she suggested uncertainly. "No idea, and not really important."

"You don't know?" I asked in confusion.

"Old Bruce was a bit of playboy back in the day," Amy explained. "In fact, I'm here because he wanted some help getting back in the game as it were." She looked back at me and winked.

"What do you-" I started to asked before it clicked. "Oh. Oh. Ew ew ew! I did not need to know that!"

Ray chuckled. "Yeah, she can heal and basically do reconstructive surgery and usually for money or real charity cases. Normally she doesn't help out people just for cosmetic things, or well, recreational things, but he's her sort-of grandfather, so…"

"Ew! Please, let's just drop it," I pleaded. "I don't want to think about that."

Ray started cackling and Amy joined him in laughter until someone cleared their throat.

"Hello, Ray, Amy, Victoria," a man said from behind us in a cold tone of voice that sent chills down my spine.

I turned around, tensed and ready to fight or run.

It was a tall, broad-shouldered old man in an expensive black suit with a grey undershirt. He wore a scowl like it had been born and died there, and his stark white hair was short and combed with simple elegance. I instantly recognized him for the charity banquets and major publicity events I'd gone to with my family. Bruce Wayne.

He glared at me for a moment before turning it on the others behind me, and I got the sense that he knew I had super powers and just didn't care. For some rich old man, he was surprisingly intimidating. He just had a certain presence in the way he carried himself, and he was not happy.

"You know her?" Ray asked, uncertainty in his voice. "Of course you do."

"I found her bleeding in the yard after she flew there," Amy explained, stepping forwards and to the side of me. "I healed her, but I think she needs some real medicine: chocolate ice cream."

He gave her a hard stare and then turned his scrutiny back on me. It was like he was staring into my soul, seeing everything I was, am being unimpressed. I suppose he had right to be, after all I was just some kid who nearly got herself killed after getting super powers, and he was a billionaire philanthropist who probably did more good in a day than I'd done in my entire life.

Something about his gave softened and he said, "Fine, but don't make a habit of this."

Amy pumped her right fist. "Yes!" She gestured to me and Bruce Wayne. "Come on. Let's break out the good stuff!" She started walking away and Bruce Wayne shook his head before slowly following.

I turned around and walked after Ray and Amy. After a few steps, she looked back over her shoulder and said, "And don't you complain about us bringing random children and teenagers here and bringing them back to eat your food."

I looked at Amy in confusion, but she had already turned back around so I asked, "What?"

"That's basically what happened with Tim and Dick, his foster son," Ray explained without turning around.

"Oh," I said.

"It's more complicated than that," Bruce Wayne stated in annoyance.

"Yeah, if we just say that then it sounds like you were going around the city at night picking up kids and bringing them back to your mansion," Amy commented, but I got the sense she was only half joking.

He simply grunted in response.

It had better be more complicated, I thought to myself. Things were already strange enough as it was.

The rest of the way through the mansion was short but quiet as we approached the large double doors to the kitchen. I found the silence somewhat uncomfortable, but couldn't muster anything to say. And judging by the décor, Bruce Wayne didn't mind brooding silence at all. Maybe he didn't actually need to eat since 'Tim' and 'Dick' were allegedly always eating his food, and he was really a vampire. I heard that they were always really melodramatic and they would probably love a place like this.

Ray and Amy each pushed open one of the doors and I stepping in after them. The kitchen was sized appropriately for the mansion with two long island counters going down the center only to be kept from connecting in the middle of the room so that people could waling from one side of the kitchen to the other without having to go all of the way to one end or another. Cupboards lined the walls and one of the biggest refrigerators I'd ever seen stood next to a large freezer. There were three other doorways leading into the kitchen, two off to the side, and one at the far end that looked out onto the dark gardens of the Wayne estate.

Amy gestured towards some cupboards. "Ray, get us some bowls and spoons. Bruce, you probably know where the ice cream scooper is, so why don't you fetch that. Victoria and I will get the ice cream."

Bruce Wayne didn't reply as Amy led me over to the freezer. She opened it and inside were rows of frozen meats, but it seemed that the top shelf was dedicated to several cartons of various flavors of ice cream. At a glance, I saw only five cartons, but the shelf was high enough up that I had trouble seeing all of them, so I floated up into the air to get a better look.

Seeing a triple fudge ice cream carton, I took it out. After all, who wouldn't want it?

"Good choice!" Amy agreed with a grin. "Open it up."

I did, and saw that several scoops had already been taken out of it, but most importantly the ice cream was covered in ice crystals. "Not good."

"Oh?" she asked.

"Check it out," I said, disappointed. I held it towards her.

"Looks like they don't visit often enough," Amy remarked. "I guess the only appropriate solution is to just have all of this before it gets worse."

I rolled my eyes. "Really, Amy?"

"I don't joke about fudge ice cream," she replied, her expression and tone dead serious for a moment before she cracked a smile. She looked back in the freezer and let out an "Ah hah!"

"What?" I asked as I saw out of the corner of my eye Bruce Wayne put his head in his left hand.

Smirking, Amy withdrew a carton with a black stylized bat silhouette with its wings spread on top of a bright yellow oval. "The Dark Fudge: The Chocolate you need; the Crunch you deserve."

"I wouldn't have pegged Bruce Wayne for such a big fan of Batman," I commented dryly. "Does he have the plushie too?"

"Helena got it for him one Christmas, you should have seen the look on his face when we ambushed him to make him open his present." Amy started cackling before setting the carton down on the counter and looked at her sort-of grandfather. "Tim must have gotten this for you."

"I can't believe Wonder Woman let that happen," Bruce Wayne muttered.

"She's part of the establishment, man," Ray replied as he walked over with four bowls and four spoons. "They may have opposed those Justice Lords' way of doing things in their Earth, but the Justice League is basically the foundation of the New World Order."

"Gift shop souvenirs and novelty ice creams are only the beginning," Amy solemnly agreed as she opened the carton and looked inside.

"It's only the beginning," I added.

"Too true," Amy said to me before looking back at the ice cream and saying, "Yep, this is in good condition."

I glanced meaningfully at Bruce Wayne. "I'm guessing he'll be wanting an extra big scoop?" I wasn't sure why Wayne was reacting with this distaste, but teasing him with Amy was pretty fun.

Amy laughed and agreed, "Oh, definitely. I'm sure he'll be devastated when we finish it off."

Bruce Wayne reluctantly walked over and offered the ice cream scooper. "Here."

Amy snatched it away from him with a grin and said, "Well, then let's get to serving. You'll be wanting some of The Dark Fudge?"

Bruce Wayne gave her a flat glare, which was a bit odd. Seriously, what did he have against Batman? Maybe he was just a really big Superman fan like me?

"I'll take that as a yes."

Amy started serving scoops from the two cartons into bowls and I looked into the freezer again. Looking in, I decided to take out the carton of white chocolate and mint ice cream.

"Interesting," Ray commented.

"Yeah," I agreed. I don't think I'd ever seen that flavor before. "Want to try it?"

"Sure," he agreed.

Amy saw the carton and hummed. "Colin? No…"

"Cass brought it a few days ago," Bruce Wayne explained. "She wanted to pick up something."

"Huh."

Amy served the ice cream and we took them to a table at the far end of the kitchen. There we sat down, Amy and Ray next to each other to my right and me and Bruce on opposite sides of the table. His bowl was the smallest with only a little of each flavor in it despite Amy's and my teasing.

As I ate a spoonful of the Dark Fudge, something niggled at my brain. What was it? I looked down at the ice cream. Amy was Panacea and used to by Poison Ivy; her adoptive father looked up to and knew Bruce Wayne, viewing him as a father figure; and he got Bruce Wayne the Dark Fudge ice cream as a joke when it was obviously a play on Batman, but Wayne didn't particularly enjoy the joke. Bruce Wayne had apparently brought kids back to his mansion, but it was complicated… kind of like –

"You're Batman!" I exclaimed.

Bruce Wayne pinched his brow. Not exactly the reaction I would have expected or hoped for, but given his reaction to the ice cream, I suppose it fit.

Ray held up his hands, one of them holding his spoon. "You've got me. I'll confess. It is I, the Dark Knight. I have dedicated my life –"

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Do you expect anyone to believe it?"

"I could pull it off," he retorted defensively.

"No you couldn't," Amy teased, poking him in the shoulder. They seemed like a cute couple.

"I'm not Batman," Bruce Wayne stated.

"But you used to be," I countered. And then another puzzle piece fell into place. "And you want to become him again! That's why Amy's here: so she can use her biokinesis to give you a younger body."

He shook his head. "Not a younger body, just a stronger one."

"Why?" I asked.

"Yeah," Amy agreed. "I know Lung's been causing Armsmaster the others trouble, but I'm the best. I could flood a street with knockout gas and take him down like that." She snapped her fingers. "And I've been in my share of fights as a hero," she added, annoyance coloring her voice now, "it's not like as soon as I step back in Gotham proper and get in a fight I'll snap again."

"I know that, Amy," Bruce Wayne replied, his voice surprisingly soft, and shook his head. Maybe he was right to worry though. I loved Gotham, but even I knew that over its history it had a higher than average number of mentally unstable super villains. I couldn't imagine how much it must have sucked to be in his and the now-Red Robin's shoes back then. Actually, Red Robin was probably Tim, her foster father. Double ouch.

"He's here because of Batman," Bruce Wayne continued, his voice authoritative again. "He wants to destroy Batman as a symbol. Society is built on ideas that people believe in and strive for, and symbols are the representations of ideas. They have power. I always intended Batman to be a symbol, to inspire fear in criminals while I worked with the police and the DA to cleanse corruption in the city and used my wealth to improve the quality of life in Gotham and elsewhere. He would be the symbol that protected Gotham in the night while a new day dawned for the city as people worked to remove the sources of desperation that caused people to turn to crime in the first place.

"I may be retired, but as long as I live I won't let him or anyone else destroy what I've worked to build: a better Gotham, where people don't have to be afraid when they walk down the street. It isn't perfect, but it's far better than the city of my youth, overrun by gangsters and the mob. Batman is a part of that, it's what started this and I'm not going to allow criminals to think that they can get away with defeating the Justice League, the police and the PRT. Parahuman warlordism is where that leads and I won't stand for that. I need to show that the symbol survives, and that's why it needs to be me."

I suppose that made sense, and fit the way that the original Seven were larger than life: to a certain extent they were meant to be so. But still…

"You could get Dick or Tim to do it," Amy countered.

"They're busy with their own cities and their own work," Bruce Wayne countered. "I don't need them to do this."

"You were always stubborn," Amy muttered. She sighed. "Well, I was going to help you anyway. Just don't get yourself killed when you meet Lung for your little showdown, alright? We can only stay here for the day before we have to go on to Uganda."

Bruce Wayne gave her a disapproving look.

"Don't be like that," Amy replied to his silent statement. "You like being prepared for everything, but even I know that sometimes you're too reckless." She paused. "…Like against me…."

Bruce Wayne scowled. "I'll be fine."

I guess he didn't like thinking about that. I wouldn't either, in his shoes.

"Good," Amy replied, "because if you aren't I'll get Constantine to open a portal to wherever the hell you end up so Tim and the rest of us can kick your dead ass." She turned her glare at me and pointed with her spoon. "And don't you get yourself killed either, got it?"

"I won't," I promised.

"Good, and you should probably tell your parents and join the Wards or something if you're going to keep being a hero," she continued.

"She's a daughter of two members of New Wave," Bruce Wayne said before I could. "She'll create a public super hero identity and joining their team."

How did he know that? Just because he was Batman? I remembered reading an old PHO thread about the old heroes and the fact that Batman never gave a straight answer for what his power was, and one poster described it as: 'He can do anything. Why? Because he's Batman, that's why.' Speaking with him made me think his knowledge was probably either due to a Thinker power or obsessive paranoia like some of the posters suggested. Or maybe both. I could easily imagine the man in front of me collecting data on everyone and never forgetting a face, even if it contrasted with his smiling appearance at the charity events we'd both been at. Then it occurred to me that those same events were where he likely remembered me from, and I felt like an idiot.

"Oh? You're in a cape family?" Amy asked me.

"Yeah," I confirmed, "a bit like you, I suppose." Except for the whole psychotic break induced villainy, or at least I hope so. Talking with her like this made me forget that she had briefly been one of the Gotham's more infamous villains once upon a time, which was quite a feat considering its history.

"Well, if you're like me, then you probably made up costume designs," Amy said, leaving it open ended so that I could take the lead.

"Yeah," I said, Glory Girl, an awesome super heroine that everyone would love. Seems like a stupid idea now. "I don't have any good ones though." I looked down at my bowl, pushing the melting ice cream around in it. I wasn't really sure of what else to say.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Ray said encouragingly.

"Yeah," I replied. A half-formed idea tugged at the back of my mind. "I think I just might."

By Star's Fire #2

Cover: A dust covered, effeminate teenaged boy with messy dark hair and dust covered and torn dark clothing tumbles through the air surrounded by a nimbus of green light. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open in a scream. Trailing behind him in an arc is faint greenish light. Below is a residential street with parked cars on either side of the street. In the street, a blue sedan is stopped with the driver looking up at the boy in shock.

+JLL+

Everything was dark and hazy. All the light had been chocked by smoke and ash and a dull, indistinct but somehow warbling roar permeated the darkness. But that wasn't all, overlaying everything was a layer of green, as though I was looking through a filter. Through all of that I saw intense light that was visibly red even through the filter-like effect. It was hard to tell what exactly was the source of the light, with the way the smoke and haze shifted one moment it was a single glaring red light, then two side by side, and then four with two vertically arranged pairs beside each other and then a thick tendril of smoke passed over the figure and it was back to an even more indistinct red glare.

"Is that really the best you can do?" a sinister voice as cold as death and as smooth as a knife in the back asked. "A pity."

Then there was a flash and everything was pain.

+JLL+

I gasped and my eyes flew open. I was lying on my back and I felt something pressing down on my abdomen hard. Surprisingly enough, the sky was clear. Wait, why was I looking at the sky? I'd been inside just a moment ago. Then I realized I was surrounded by rubble, with smoke rising from bits of what used to be our house.

I could feel the energy within me smoldering at my surprise, and then I looked down at my body. There was a large wooden beam along with pieces of wall and a broken armoire that must have fallen down from the second floor. I was being crushed and I could feel the pain in my lower body. I was going to die after getting super powers and blowing up the house.

I panicked, and desperately tried to push the rubble away as the energy inside me reacted by flaring up. The thick beam shifted, causing me to pause in shock.

Then I heard ominous groaning and pushed even harder, putting everything I could into getting out, and the energy inside me lashed out in reaction with an explosion of green light.

Surprisingly enough the light didn't blind me, well the bright green energy everywhere made it hard to see what was happening, but my eyes didn't hurt or even strain in the glare.

Instead I got to watch in mounting horror as the blast blew away the debris on top of me, only to destabilize the rest of the building. For one moment it seemed like the remains of the house were falling in slow motion, and then the pile of rubble came rushing down at me.

I admit, I screamed as I desperately needed to get away. There was another flare of the energy within me and I flew head first into the broken concrete of the basement wall behind me.

I cried out in shock as much as pain and clutched my head as tiling from the ground floor buried my feet again.

That was when I started to get annoyed. "Stupid powers, keep knocking things on top of me." I lashed out again, but the energy blast was much more diffused than before. I scowled and tried to kick my feet free out of stubborn determination and spite for the stupid inanimate objects keeping me down as much as anything.

The mostly broken tiles actually shifted and I was able to stagger to my feet. Everything still ached, especially my feet and head, but luckily nothing seemed broken.

"I'm a brute," I muttered to myself in realization. Then I looked at the pile of rubble that had fallen on me just moments ago. "No duh."

I realized that the ringing in my ears had only been there when it started fading. Realizing that my hearing was fine sent a thrill of elation through me and my power flared up in response as I grinned.

"Okay, my powers are awesome," I decided.

The pile of rubble surrounding me shifted slightly as a wet pipe slid down beside me.

"Hope this place is insured."

As if on cue, that was when I picked up the sounds of sirens in the distance. I wasn't absolutely sure where they were going, but I could take a guess. The house that just exploded in a flash of green light was certainly out of the ordinary, at least in Montreal.

That will cause problems for my family, after all police and super heroes coming to our house after it just blew up is going to be a problem.

I look at the rubble because there isn't really much else to look at from my vantage point in what's left of this part of the basement.

Right, they might have a few other problems as well, like being buried under rubble. Well, not all of them, but a few at least.

I just… did I just kill father, Cherie, Guillaume and Nicholas?

I had super durability now, but they didn't. That rubble and the explosion that created it couldn't have been good for them.

I was torn. They'd done nothing but cause shit for me my entire life… but they were still my family. I never really knew anyone else.

Should I try to help them?

I focused on the pile of rubble. After I had passed out in the explosion and had that weird dream, the ceiling and walls must have collapsed on everyone. They probably weren't alive, especially not father since he would have ended up being hit by my explosive blast, buried under rubble and then hit by the blast I used to get free. Oops.

Guilt waged war with resentment and satisfaction, while both were ambushed by apathy.

Others might be alive, but they were all jerks.

On the other hand, if I did save them I would get to rub it in their faces…

I sighed and started shifting rubble. It turned out I was strong enough to easily pick up and toss away most pieces of rubble up to the about the size of my chest, or Cherie's since they were close to the same. I made a note to say to her that if she survived.

I managed to shift the pile of rubble to what used to be the left of the room, where Guillaume had probably gone. It wasn't exactly tiring, but it was stressful when moving a piece caused a chunk of wall to slide down over the mound I had been clearing.

And on top of that, the sirens were getting closer quickly. I wasn't sure how the police or the heroes would take me killing my father and probably the others as well. I scowled and looked around as nervousness burned within me, literally, given the energy within me.

Maybe I should just leave them and let the firefighters dig them out?

The sounds of sirens kept coming closer.

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

Okay, so I needed to get out of here, and I was able to launch myself away from the rubble earlier. Maybe I could fly? That would be sweet. I felt my power react to that thought and concentrated on how awesome it would be to fly.

Even if I'd probably just killed at least a few of my family and was about to be hunted by the heroes.

My power sullenly subsided at that.

Damn. When I'm angry I can blow things up, and my power reacts to emotions and maybe thoughts too, so I can possibly fly if I think that's awesome but if I'm unhappy then I can't?

That's kind of lame for a power. At least I'm strong. Maybe I can just jump out of the basement? I was pretty strong, so it should be possible.

I walked over to the end of the crater and looked at it. It was steep and most of the concrete from the foundation and walls were still in the sides of the crater instead of blasted into the surrounding yard and neighborhood. I crouched and concentrated on how I wouldn't accept anything less than getting away, on how I wouldn't let my father ruin this chance for me even though he's already dead. I'd get away from the heroes and the cops, and I'd be awesome while I'm doing it.

How dare they try and stop me?

I felt the energy gather in me and I leapt, pushing the ground away from me because how dare it hold me down!

I rocketed through the air, viridian energy burning in me as I arced through the air. I smiled as I imagined that my stupid power was actually letting me fly, and the power within me flared. Feeling its strength grow, I pushed it out and behind me and I shot forwards and upwards, casting green light away from me as I used my power to catapult myself up.

The sudden jerk as I suddenly accelerated caught me off guard and I opened my mouth to scream as I started to tumble uncontrollably through the air. Panic and energy built up inside me and as I fell towards the street. Fear coursing through me, I sent out another burst of energy towards the ground and a green blast shot out towards the ground, exploding in front of a parked car.

The blast knocked me through the air and I hit the wall of the house that it had been parked in front of. It hurt, but the fear burning inside me gave me the energy and focus to stand up, clutching my head with one hand and propping myself up against the cracked wall of the house with my other hand.

Okay, so using my powers to get out of there wasn't a good idea. Running sounded good.

I took an experimental step forwards, and when I didn't immediately fall over, I took another.

The sirens were very close now, and the fear I was feeling reacted with my power to help me keep going. So I did.

Each step came more quickly, until I was jogging away in my dust covered and torn clothing. Heartbreaker may not have been very destructive, but he was still a super villain and supers ruled most crime, so the people knew that when you heard explosions and saw strange flashes of light, you got out of the way and into cover. Well, some people liked to watch and even record the fights, but most of them were smart enough to get to a safe distance first. This meant that the roads were relatively clear as I ran away, trying to lose the cops and heroes before they even knew where I was. Well, they probably did know where I was, that second explosion hadn't been particularly subtle.

Still, as long as I wasn't there when they got to where I crash landed, I'd be fine.

I stuck to alleys and side streets, doing my best to avoid being seen by the police or the heroes. After two hours, I had made it out of the neighborhoods and into the city. I continued to avoid the police, but it wasn't as big of a concern anymore as I disappeared into the city. Figuring out what to do next was.

Leaving the city was probably the best idea. Not only would the heroes be looking for me here, but any of my siblings left free would also be just a little angry. I'd need new clothes though.

Robbing a store wouldn't be a good idea. It'd probably draw the attention of law enforcement, especially if I had to use my powers. I might be able to get some from a homeless shelter or something though.

Going to one of the other gangs might be possible as well, but that would probably end poorly for me. Going to a homeless shelter then.

I looked around the alley I was standing in. "Now where do I find a homeless shelter? Wish I had my phone."

I sighed and continued trudging through the streets. People looked at me strangely, but I'd managed to brush off most of the dust by then. I was pretty sure I just looked homeless, or like a lowlife.

A few minutes later, my stomach rumbled. "Being homeless sucks," I decided.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. Inside was enough for maybe a cheap meal or two.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to steal some money then," I remarked out loud. I noticed a pedestrian looking at me funny so I turned to him and demanded loudly, "What are you looking at? Huh?"

He turned and hurried away. I should probably get going as well. With that I started off in a random direction. I knew Montreal well enough, but right now the goal was to get lost away from where anyone could find me.

My stomach rumbled again.

But first: food.

I set off to look for the nearest fast food joint. I wasn't exactly being picky, I just wanted something to eat.

As I walked through the streets, I did my best to act with casual nonchalance, playing the part of the probably homeless or lower class lowlife. With dusty and torn clothes it wasn't hard.

Eventually I made my way to a McDonald's that was next to a gas station. I walked up to it doing my best to seem like your everyday dirty teenager, but when I was walking in front of the large glass windows in front of it I reached into my pocket for my wallet and glanced around.

At one of the pumps was a patrol car with two uniformed cops standing next to the pump chatting. Immediately I tensed, if they saw me they might ask me questions or try to arrest me. My power reacted to my agitation by bubbling up inside me, though not as high as it had been… earlier.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to react. As long as I didn't look too suspicious, they probably wouldn't bother me. I'm sure they had better things to do than harass random teenagers who didn't wash their clothes. Then again, maybe I looked like a druggie. I held back a sigh. I probably did, being thin, dirty and having unkempt hair from the explosions and collisions.

I slowly and steadily walked into the McDonald's and walked up to the counter, doing my best to exude confidence.

No one was in line at the moment, so I walked around the line and up to the cashier, a dusky woman in her mid-to-late thirties and who looked at me with skepticism. "My I take your order?" she asked in a voice that suggested both general apathy and distaste.

I glanced at the menu. "Number three meal," I quickly replied as smoothly as I could.

She narrowed her eyes, likely unfortunately not buying it. "Right." She punched it in and I paid for it.

While waiting for my food, I took my cup and filled it before finding a seat near the door farthest from the police car where I could easily see the counter where my order would be put down.

Sitting down, I sipped and thought. What do I do now?

There were a few options. I'd blown up my house and killed some of my – admittedly dickish – family, though it had been in self-defense, and then I'd followed that up by running away and blowing a hole in a residential street. So throwing myself at the heroes' mercy was out, if I'd even wanted to do that in the first place.

Staying in town as a villain was also out since I wouldn't have any of the support of my father's criminal empire and the enmity of his enemies. It would also mean staying where the police and heroes would be looking for me.

Leaving was the best idea, but where?

It'd have to be somewhere I could make it as an independent. Quebec and Ottowa were the closest. Unfortunately Mad Mod was currently stirring up trouble in Ottawa and from what I'd heard I didn't want to get anywhere near that mess, especially since it would mean being right under the noses of the Canadian PRT and Law Enforcement in general. I could probably handle most cops now given my apparent toughness, but if they saw me they would call in Leaguers from everywhere nearby. And since it was the capitol, 'nearby' might be bigger than otherwise.

Quebec could work, but Dear Old Dad had managed to piss off Le Saigneur, crime lord of the entire province of Quebec, alleged important member of the villainous secret society aptly named the Society, and the most notorious and dangerous cape in the city. So that was out.

Detroit might also work, but according to the news the local chapter of the League was working hard to clean up the criminal elements of the city and had apparently recently managed to force out most of the local villains. They probably wouldn't appreciate a runaway independent villain showing up, and I might not want to be there since it would no doubt be a Society target soon. They didn't like it when the local heroes were driving out their members and hurting their business. Then again, if I were there they might hire me to help them teach the heroes a lesson, but at the same time there was a too good chance that they would leave me to my own devices afterwards. Villains, especially the hard core ones, weren't people you trusted just on their word, even if they were part of a secret Society.

There was Toronto… but no.

I knew there was the city Buffalo, but I didn't know anything in particular about it.

Boston was a major cape city I could go to, but it had the Teeth. I'd heard bad things about them even in Montreal, so maybe somewhere else.

There was New York City, but even with Superman regularly traveling around the world most of the time, if there was anywhere that a villain was likely to run into him, it was there. No thank you.

Bludhaven was apparently a port town that had been a criminal haven at some point apparently, but I didn't know enough about it and I wasn't sure if it was safe to go to a library and check.

The last of the places I could go to and that I knew off the top of my head was Gotham. 'Back in the day' it had practically been the organized crime capital of North America, and even now it wasn't a bad place to go for a villain looking for work. Despite Batman's best efforts, it was legendary for the number of independent villains and gangs that had operated in the city. There were even so many crime and cape dramas set there that it was practically a cliché in itself. I remembered hearing something about Neo-Nazis and a dragon themed villain. If the stories were in any way still true, then it'd be the place to go. It wouldn't be too hard to join to form a gang.

Of course, getting anywhere with barely any money and a really inefficient and noticeable way to fly would be a problem. Hitchhiking could work, but it would be slow. I could steal enough for a bus ride to get close to the border, cross over and then hitchhike or steal enough for another bus ride.

That sounded best.

I looked up and noticed that my sandwich and fries were sitting on the counter.

Hungry and not wanting to let them get any colder, I quickly made my way over the counter and took my order. Upon resuming my seat, I grabbed a handful of fries to eat and stuffed them into my mouth before chewing and swallowing them. Then I realized that I'd forgotten the ketchup. After correcting this mistake, I quickly finished of the rest of my meal.

Before I knew it, I was out of food and still hungry. I scowled. I didn't normally eat more than this, but I suppose I'd been pretty active, running away from the law.

However, I didn't want to buy more food right now if I didn't know where I'd get the money for the next one.

I looked down at my stomach.

Then again, I was planning on stealing money later anyway. And if I needed to, I could rob a convenience store for snacks or something.

So I got back up and ordered another meal combo.

Truly, a life on the run was thrilling.

After finishing the last of my somewhat legitimately bought food, I filled up my two cups and walked out of the McDonald's. It seemed that the police had left by then, so I simply ambled off.

I didn't have any particular destination in mind, but I was in one of the worse parts of town so presumably I'd eventually run into or spot someone working for a rival gang who I could shake down with my awesome new powers. Robbing someone else could work as well, and might be safer.

On the other hand, I'd survived a building falling on me, or at least part of me. A gun wasn't too scary compared to that. Probably.

As such, I walked through the worse off parts of town looking for trouble as I sipped my colas. When I finished my first cup, I tossed it aside.

Littering. If you didn't think I was a hard hearted villain before, this is your proof.

I continued wandering the city, sipping from my remaining cup as I did so.

People looked at me as we passed each other. However, No one paid me any particular attention, save for a few that decided to avoid me. Which was fine with me, I preferred to be the one starting trouble anyway.

It was starting to get dark and I still hadn't found anything. I crossed and intersection with the lights and finished my drink. Seeing a nearby trash can, I threw the empty cup at it. I missed, the cup bounced off the side of the trash can and into the street. I scowled and my power rumbled in reaction to my annoyance.

It wasn't that important though. I shrugged and continued walking through the city.

I began looking harder for someone to get money from at that point, because I'd need money if I wanted to use a motel or buy a bus ticket.

Unfortunately, the people in this part of town must have been able to tell I was hunting for someone. They all did their best to avoid me.

After twenty minutes, I sighed and looked around the sparsely populated street. There wasn't anyone I could go after, not even some shady drug dealer.

I sighed and leaned against the wall of a building. "Being a villain sucks. Who thought it would be so tedious?"

Nearby people gave me funny looks as they passed, but I didn't really care. At this point, picking a fight with the heroes might be better. I'd been trying to use my power, but even though it rumbled or bubbled or what have you when I was annoyed, it didn't seem to react with the same intensity as earlier.

Maybe if I got into a fight it would start working again.

That was stupid. I shook my head and straightened up. I stepped away from the wall and continued walking. If I found a bad neighborhood, I would find a drug dealer and be able to steal their drug money.

So I kept going. Eventually I started passing alleyways with ever more prominent graffiti.

I was definitely headed in the right direction.

Admittedly, I hadn't paid much attention to the 'family business,' but I was sure someone here was in a rival gang, or at least one of the street gangs that didn't have a powered villain. That would probably be the easiest to handle.

If only I knew where exactly to find them.

A part of me regretted not paying more attention to my father's business.

The rest of me regretted not paying less attention. I never enjoyed listening to it.

Without any idea where to find trouble, I decided to try and find rundown buildings in the hopes that there would be druggies there to point me in the right direction.

I stopped walking.

Why was I doing that? Stealing the cash from a nearby convenience store would be simpler.

Occam's Razor: The simplest solution is the best. Or the most likely. Whatever.

I nodded to myself.

I set off to the nearest store, only to stop again when I heard a distant cry. Someone was calling out for help. They couldn't be too far for me to hear them like that over the sounds of the city. They were probably being mugged or something.

I tilted my head to the side in thought. Should I help?

Why was I considering this?

I thought back to earlier today, of Guillaume, Nicholas and Cherie beating me up while father watched.

Well, it wasn't like it was some thugs or whatever were a threat to me, right? I'd go check it out and steal their money. If I felt like it.

I turned and jogged in the direction I'd heard the cry come from. I heard another scream before it was cut off. The alley up ahead. My feet took me into the alley and I stopped.

At the other end were two Newfoundlander men roughing up some scrawny teen punk.

I frowned and walked towards them.

One of the guys noticed and snarled, "Get lost!"

I shrugged as I continued to approach. "Eh. I don't really feel like it."

He bared his teeth and pulled out a knife he'd sheathed on his belt. "I won't ask again." The other guy pinned the teen to the wall with one hand around the throat and the other holding a knife to an eye.

"Thanks for letting me know," I replied as I got within five meters of him. I felt my power build up in anticipation.

The first thug tensed in uncertainty. I think he could tell something was off. Maybe it was the greenish glow apparently coming from my eyes.

My mouth curled into a smile. I held up a hand and clenched it into a fist, pushing energy into it. Green light started building up around my hand.

His eyes went wide and he took a step back.

"Don't you know it's impolite to threaten people?" I asked him.

He didn't answer. Instead he took the opportunity to turn around and start running.

I punched at him with my glowing hand and released the energy building up there. It shot out and a bolt and hit him with a flash and a concussive blast that knocked him tumbling to the ground.

I kept walking forwards and aimed my fist at the other guy. As it started to glow again, I said, "Let him go."

The second thug decided to tighten his grip on the teen and double down on stupid. "B-back off! Try anything and I'll kill him!"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I asked. "Let him go, and if you kill him I'll kill you." The light around my fist grew bright enough to cast his face in green as I stepped closer. The first thug started to get up so I pointed my other hand at him and said, "No." He stopped moving. It was pretty awesome.

The second thug scoffed. "Heroes don't kill."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I asked, not particularly feeling like springing my surprise on him yet. "Or did you forget that cops are allowed to kill criminals if they resist? It's a fact that legally, all necessary force can be used if necessary." I was fairly certain that was true, but I didn't say that out loud.

His face turned a pale green and he glanced at his buddy. While he was distracted, the teen took the chance to kick him in the balls and twist free of this grip.

Once the guy was out of the way, I released a bolt into the second thug and knocked him into the wall. He fell to the ground unconscious.

The former mugging victim looked at me and said, "Thank you! If you hadn't shown up, they might have hurt me!"

I smirked. I had gone to a lot of unnecessary effort to save him, so it was nice to be properly recognized. Well, sort of anyway. "No problem, all in a day's work." Now to steal their money and scram before the police showed up, like a real hero.

"Good job," a female voice replied from above. I looked up.

Unfortunately one showed up.

She had deeply tanned olive, almost actually orange, skin, really long red-brown hair with some grey strands, and green eyes. And an incredible figure. First that Jade chick and now her? I should keep running into super heroines.

Oh, and she was wearing matching light purple knee high boots, wrist guards, and a one piece which left little to the imagination with the way it was a collar around her neck and a bikini connected by two strips.

"Uh, thanks," I replied, at a loss as to what to do. Something about her seemed familiar.

She floated down to hover in front of me. "So, you're a hero?" she asked me.

I shrugged. "That's what it looks like." It's not like I was going to tell the obvious super heroine that I was a villain, albeit only because I blew up a house and a car and killed my villain father and some of my sadistic siblings. If only I could remember who she was.

"That's good to hear," she replied with a brilliant smile. "Got a name?"

"Uh…" I grunted, stalling for time. I'd been too busy to think of one. I idly looked her and her incredible costume over as I wracked my brain for something to use. It had to be a good one to since it's what they'd use later, right? "…Starfire?" I suggested.

She raised an eyebrow and her smile grew. "Okay, Starfire. Let me call in the boss," she said. She taped her left ear and I realized that there was some sort of earpiece underneath her ample hair. "Kal, you reading me?"

There was a rush of air. "I hear you," a deep, authoritative and above all very familiar voice replied from above and behind me. It was a voice I think pretty much everybody knew. "Bonjour, Jean-Paul."

I turned around nervously and then my jaw dropped.