Ch. 6
Here's a fact: Marty Flint has never once won a game of hide-and-seek against his mother.
It has been a month since we parted ways with Falcone and his fiancée.
When I initially considered the events that happened last month I thought it would be the start of a new chapter, that Artemis and I might become some sort of hero tag-team, like Batman and Robin but with significantly less edge and flamboyance, (myself being the big bad Bat of course) though that train was derailed pretty quick by the fact I hadn't seen her since.
She just sort of disappeared after everything. I wasn't too upset over it, honest! I mean I barely knew her at all. I didn't even know her real name. Ok, maybe I was a bit lonely, but I was used to that already from life as a voluntary loner at school.
Besides, I've kept myself busy the past few weeks.
You know, it's curious how a pastime or hobby you really enjoy can suddenly become much more stressful when it's actually crucial to your self-improvement.
Granted, I really doubt anyone has ever had that thought about video games, but those people weren't me.
I'd gotten back from nearly getting beaten up by completely normal buff dudes, narrowly avoiding getting riddled with bullets, and almost getting caught by a giant buff murder zombie. So yeah, I made the conscious decision to get stronger and to get more abilities, so that I wasn't put in that position again.
I started with Super Mario Bros. Only fitting to do so after helping Mario, right?
When I finished the game my options had been a lot more vague than I expected. I had to choose between three things that Super Mario was capable of doing.
So I could either take:
[Super Jump: Your legs are enhanced when you jump, allowing you to go much higher, and absorb far greater impacts when you land.]
[Brick Breaker: Gain the ability to shatter stone with a single blow.] Which notably didn't say that I'd get the strength required to do so for use in other things.
Or [Shell Stomper: Your legs are empowered when stomping.] Which was rather vague on how hard I could stomp.
After much deliberation I ended up taking [Super Jump] even though I'm fairly sure I'll outgrow its use at some point with better movement powers since I was capable of rerolling what ability I got once per game. A fact I'd almost forgotten from the frenzy of the night I had to heal Artemis.
The night I gained the ability I tested to see if I could jump from the ground to the rafters of the warehouse, it wasn't even close, although I jumped probably twice as high as the office landing, which was I estimated to be more than 15 feet in the air, and completely impossible for any normal person on the planet, but I was kind of hoping to be able to leap tall buildings with a single bound. Still, it was definitely a potent ability as I now had the capability to leap over things I never would have had even the slightest chance to before. A car trying to run me down? Just jump over it. Oh shit, gotta get down off this high ledge quick? Just land on your feet and no-sell the impact.
It was curious though that the options for that game had been so undetailed.
I had a theory about my power that the longer I spent on a game, (allowing my power to soak in that data, so to speak,) the more detailed my options were.
I only really had one piece of evidence so far and that was Skyrim. The game that I'd played likely more than any other.
It was so far the only game that had given me so many specifically detailed power choices. It was also the only game that offered me two abilities rather than a singular one. Since I was eager to get more cards in my figurative deck, I had watched a speed run guide for Super Mario Bros. and done my best to imitate it, seemingly giving my power no time to collect more than surface data on the game, which was reflected in the options given.
At a glance, Mario could jump high, break brick with a punch, and stomp enemies flat. So that's what was reflected in the options, if I'd spent more time on the game maybe I'd get more peripheral options.
I'd proceeded with that idea in mind for the next game, taking my time and doing my best to enjoy the game for the few days I forced myself to take it slow to finish it rather than rush through for the reward at the end.
The results had been more satisfying. Both because the options were vastly more detailed, and the Witcher 2 had just genuinely been a very rich game lore wise, which was something I loved. For those unfamiliar with the game, it follows a sort-of-mutated human monster hunter called a witcher through his travels and the inevitable political entanglements he bumbles his way into despite trying to avoid them, oh and women, there were a lot of women.
Anyway, magic exists in that game universe though witchers were not practitioners beyond a few simplified spells that were easy to use with a gesture. They were called magical signs, and they were also what I was offered upon completing the game.
[Aard, Sigil of Force: When conjured, this glyph summons a wave of magical force and shoves your target away, knocking them down. Most effective against targets of similar size to the caster, reducing in effectiveness as mass disparity increases.]
This was basically an invisible push, but since it relied on my size to dictate the effect, I didn't think it'd be too useful as I wasn't exactly the biggest guy around, at least not yet.
[Quen, Sigil of Protection: When conjured, this glyph creates a forcefield centered around the sign user that absorbs kinetic and magical energy. Unravels with repeated attacks absorbed, diminishing in defensiveness as it does so until it shatters.]
This partially fulfilled a need I had deemed a priority, increasing my defensive capability so that I didn't need to be so scared of random thugs with guns in the future.
[Yrden, Sigil of Containment: When conjured, this glyph places a proximity trap that temporarily ensnares enemies, preventing movement. This effect unravels over a period of 30 seconds when triggered, becoming easier to break out of as it diminishes.]
Aside from what was no doubt a smaller mana cost, this was just inferior to Polymorph as a unit control spell on a few different levels. It was far shorter lasting, easier to break out of, and required to be placed rather than cast at a target. Unless I was ambushing someone, that wasn't all that useful.
Needless to say I had taken [Quen, Sigil of Protection].
Its usage was interesting, I gestured in a specific way, and the sign materialized a dull orange shield around me at a skin tight level. It was almost unnoticeable unless it was struck in which case it flared bright. The spell itself functioned a bit differently than any of my other acquisitions thus far.
The effect of any of my other spells wasn't amplified if I pushed more mana into it, Clairvoyance was the only other spell that even comfortably allowed me to do so, and it just extended the route I had to follow to be longer so I could see it further and further away. With this sigil though it seemed really receptive to more mana and when I tested it with a large chunk of my mana reservoir all at once, the effect had expanded from a nearly unnoticeable skintight forcefield to a magical shield bubble encompassing about four feet in each direction from me, and it did extend below my feet as well as I had observed it by standing near the edge of the broken stairwell and watching it extend out into open air. Using it like that, with so much power poured into it, made it feel like an influx of magic poured into me before expanding like a bubble was being blown around me.
'Hmm, influx. In flux. Influx. Hey, I kind of like that. Short, but powerful, and fairly memorable too.'
Anyway back to my reminiscing on Quen.
Thankfully, the spell allowed for what I considered to be ground to exist in its limits, as I had no desire to play human hamster ball until it broke. Speaking of breaking, I'd discovered something vital in my experimentation. The spell didn't unravel with time either for as long as I observed it and only broke when attacked multiple times (or due to me kicking the wall hard enough to break my toes a dozen times.) Theoretically, I could always have Quen up surrounding my body in-case of sudden attacks. I had taken to doing so recently just as a precaution.
Aside from my fancy new abilities, I had also gained a bit of money recently. Suffice to say, my previous monetary solution of using Clairvoyance to find lost money in the area had dried up with too much use, so with the knowledge that my situation was unsustainable I made a very difficult choice that teens the world over often have to make…
I got a part-time job.
It wasn't anything fancy, just work in the kitchen at the local pizza parlor, but the owner, an older balding overweight gentleman named Paulie, didn't ask questions and paid me in cash. Noticeably, a bit lower than state minimum wage, mind you, but it was untaxed and guilt free on my end so I'd take it.
Also, learning to cook a few more things through my job, helped me spend less money on buying takeout every single day. The downside being that I had to buy a hot plate and basically a miniature kitchen set to do so, but it should pay itself off in saved money sometime soon. Besides, there was something freeing in cooking for yourself.
I had of course paid off my standing debt to the convenience store as soon as I could, slipping $60 onto the counter when the clerk's back was turned, and making my escape. But with no constraints on my spending, and no debt on my mind, I'll be the first to admit that I had splurged a bit.
Smudge seemed to like her tower bed and scratching post combo, though the TV, and gaming console I'd picked up cheap and secondhand were likely unnecessary.
"Order up!"
I snapped back to reality to read the order that had just been placed.
Medium pie, chicken, green olive, and mushroom.
I'm not one to judge considering I actually like pineapple on pizza. But olives and mushrooms, really? Might as well have a salad.
I tossed the dough, flaring it in the air as I'd been taught. I put it down on the flour-dusted table and layered sauce, cheese, shredded chicken, sliced olives and mushrooms, and a bit more cheese to bind it all to the crust. Then into the brick oven it goes.
When the pizza was done a while later, I put it in a box and sliced it up.
I then placed it on the countertop for the customer to pick up.
The boy who stepped forward to claim it was young, younger than me by a few years judging by his height, and he was wearing a pair of black shades.
Why was he wearing those? It was overcast today, and the sun hasn't shone on Gotham once all day. He probably thought they looked cool on him, which to be fair they kind of did. He was probably some rich kid though, walking around in that black leather jacket, I'm pretty sure he was wearing designer jeans too, even his sneakers looked fancy, though I was horrible with remembering shoe brands.
He walked up to the counter and opened the pizza box looking into it. "Hey can I get some oregano dude?"
"Sure, lemme grab it for you," I acquiesced, retrieving the shaker for him from the kitchen.
"So are you new here? I'm here like pretty regularly and I don't think I've seen you before."
"Just working a part-time job for the summer," I was gonna let the conversation end there, but Paulie had mentioned how he wanted the workers to push customers to leave online reviews with the reward of a coupon, because he felt the shop needed more publicity. "Oh uh we have a promotion running right now if you like, half off any three-topping pizza if you leave an online review and show it to me."
The kid stopped dumping oregano on his pie, setting the shaker aside. "Wish the cashier had mentioned that before I paid," he snarked as he closed the pizza box.
Man what a brat, Jenna, the cashier, just started her shift so she hadn't heard from Paulie yet. Still if working in the food industry for the past two weeks taught anything it was an aggravated sort of patience with annoying people. "Well, you can just use it next time you're here since you said you're here regularly," I tossed out.
"I guess so," the kid fiddled with his phone.
If I needed any more confirmation that this was a rich kid, the phone confirmed it. The newest WayneTech QE5 in a blue plastic case with a Batman symbol on the back.
Huh, I'd expect a kid his age to go for a Robin case. Most kids usually went for the Robin merch because thinking of themselves in place of the boy wonder was a common pastime for male children in Gotham in their pre to early teens. At least in my experience, I wasn't immune to the blatant act of self-inserting myself either.
"There, is that good?" He handed me the phone open to a review on Yelp placed seconds ago.
Great pizza. Good prices. 4 out of 5 stars.'
Four stars?! This fucking brat! The least he could do is leave a five star review for a coupon. Something must have shown on my face because he spoke up.
"Oh I took a star off because I asked for green olives not black olives. No biggie though."
Damn it. I must have missed that.
"Here's your coupon," I kept my voice even, not admitting to my mistake. I might be childish enough to pretend it wasn't me, but since I was mature enough to realize it, it totally canceled out.
"Thanks," he turned around, only to turn back again, "hey I can change the review to five stars if you can answer a question about something for me."
A chance at redemption was welcome, even if it had to be at the hands of this kid. "Sure," I tried not to sound too enthusiastic.
"You do live around here, right?"
That was his question? I tamped down at the uncomfortable feeling that surged at that question. "I guess, yeah."
"Have you heard anything about that maniac that people have seen jumping over streetlamps at night?"
My face must've paled several shades in a moment. I thought I'd been careful practicing how far and high I could jump by doing it in the middle of the night with no one on the street, practicing how my jumps meshed with my parkour skill. But someone must've seen me, several someones if the kid was to be believed.
"…they're saying that whoever it is can jump almost two stories."
I stifled a cough as I choked on my own spit. "That's what I've heard too," I wheezed out.
The kid looked on at my ensuing coughing fit with unrestrained disgust.
"Do you think they're some sort of criminal? I mean like a villain or something." The boy seemed to pin me under his gaze, and it felt like without those dark sunglasses in the way his eyes would be glaring into my own.
The way he was looking at me was unsettling. Did he know? No, he couldn't possibly. 'C'mon Marty get a grip, he's just a nosy rich brat.'
I coughed into my elbow a few more times to clear my sore airway. "N-no. I mean he hasn't done anything wrong yet, right? Just jumping around isn't a crime."
The kid's head tilted in consideration "I guess not, but if they land on top of someone that would be kind of a disaster instead of a…hey if like is the opposite of dislike, is aster the opposite of disaster?"
What an odd guy, still I was thankful for the change in subject. "I don't think that's a word. Isn't the opposite of a disaster a blessing or something?"
"Huh, that doesn't really sound as cool. Anyway I've fixed my review as promised. Seeya around dude."
"See you, dude," I waved.
"Stay asterous," he waved as he left, muttering "no, that one didn't work well."
He walked out and I slumped, leaning against the counter.
Ok. It was official, I needed a better costume if people were taking notice of me. I don't think a scarf wrapped around my lower face was gonna cut it against some serious scrutiny. Maybe I should get some fake glasses to wear when I'm not jumping around, I used to hear how different people look with or without glasses all the time in school. I thought about the idea for a second before trashing it. I didn't want to wear glasses all the time, and who would fall for it anyway, you'd have to be a real idiot to not realize it was just the same person wearing glasses. Most supers just wear full masks and costumes anyway, I'd just have to figure out where the hell to get something like that.
I glanced at the faded business card again. It was time to stop putting this off. I hadn't seen her in a long time, maybe she was doing better, or she'd found some trick to remembering more of her life.
…3-3-9-2
I plugged the last four digits into my new brick of a phone.
Ok that was an exaggeration, but the cheap burner phone I bought certainly wasn't a sleek WayneTech model, or even a smartphone. It didn't even have a touchscreen, but it served its purpose well enough, plus it had rechargeable minutes.
It rung a few times before someone picked up.
"What do ya want?" An unpleasant sounding older woman picked up, without ever seeing her I could tell she was a heavy smoker from her voice alone.
"Um sorry, I'm looking for a ride, is this—"
"Willow, it's for you!" She bellowed.
There was the sound of shuffling and I heard a distant argument. "…told you to stop putting the house number up for your little schemes." Before a significantly younger and less grouchy person got on the line.
"Willow's Baked Goods, this is Willow, how can I help you?"
"Um hi, we met before. I'm looking for a ride."
She sighed into the phone, "…no one ever orders anything, alright where are you and where do you wanna go?"
I rattled off the address to the small plaza by the warehouse, and gave her the name of Mom's care home.
"Alright be there in twenty, I'll bring samples!" and then she hung up.
Well I had that to look forward to. I walked over to wait for the taxi in front of the laundromat, idly fiddling with the phone. There was something about having a phone in-hand that made you want to play around on it, must be the curse of my generation. Too bad this phone only had the snake game.
This phone's version of the game was at least a step above the old fashioned 8-bit version as this snake was cartoony and red with little bits of yellow throughout, and the food was various fruits, which frankly made no sense.
I don't think the game could even be beaten, besides I doubt there'd be anything worth getting from it even if it were possible. A power to make myself taller the more I ate would be kind of disturbing at worst or redundant at best.
Still, it was something to do to pass the time.
My snake got long enough to the point I had to make parallel lines on the screen with its bulk to make sure I had enough room to get the fruit.
A car horn sounded before long, and I flubbed a turn just before the snake took up the entirety of the screen.
"Game Over," flashed on the screen in toxic green lettering.
I got into the back of the cab.
"Woodpine Care Estate, right?"
Willow had dyed her hair a soft green to go with the highlights from last time. "Yeah, the one in Coral," I confirmed.
"That's pretty far, I brought some baked samples with me if you'd like to munch while I drive," she pointed at the basket full of individually wrapped treats. "Try not to get any crumbs on the seat."
I took a closer look at the samples as she pulled out onto the street. They were each individually wrapped in plastic with ribbons holding them in. "Hey, what do the different colored ribbons mean?"
"The red are chocolate chip, white is snickerdoodle, green is oatmeal raisin, and orange is peanut butter with chocolate."
I love snickerdoodle, I remember when I was younger Mom used to get me a snickerdoodle cookie from the café at the mall whenever we went. I wonder if she'd remember anything from back then if I brought her a snickerdoodle cookie; people did say smell and taste were really powerful memory inducers. "Hey, do you mind if I take an extra for my Mom?"
"Take as many as you want honey, as long as you spread my name around, advertising's expensive as all hell in this city."
I finished my cookie fairly quickly. It was actually really good, firm but not tough and practically melted in my mouth. It wasn't crumbly or too dry either. "That was pretty good," I admitted. "You should open a bakery or something."
"Yup," she chirped. "That's the plan," she waved her hand, her nails were just as green as her hair, "y'know eventually, I don't exactly wanna drive a cab for the rest of my life. But if you like the cookies, I also make a damn good carrot cake, my cheesecake does still need some work though, shit's hard to make right."
"Maybe you should try and get a job at a bakery while you save up for your own," I pointed out.
"Done that before. Didn't work out. I just don't work well under others, that's why I'll open my own bakery and be my own boss." She paused for a moment to look at me in the rearview. "That's enough about my life, what's been going on with you? You're that kid I dropped off at Stagg a while back right?"
"That's me. I've just been…" Living in an abandoned warehouse. Getting new superpowers. Fighting Russian mobsters. Fleeing from swamp zombies. "…doing summer things."
"I get ya, wish I still had three months of nothing but free time in a year too."
The implication that I'd been sitting back and chilling was patently false, but it's not like she knew my circumstances. Nor that I should tell her either. "I mean it hasn't all been free time. I got a part-time job."
"Oh nice, is it your first job?"
"Yeah. It's just working in a pizza kitchen."
"Oh, that's pretty cool. I remember my first job…"
We spent the remainder of the ride chatting about jobs Willow had at one point or another. Most of her employment stories seemed to end with her getting fired for constantly pushing an employer's buttons, a fact I resolutely did not point out.
The car came to a halt in front of an automated gate, there was a sleepy-eyed guard in the guard station alongside. "Visitors?"
"Yeah, I'm here to see my Mom."
"Alright kid, visitation hours end at six o'clock ."
He let us through and Willow dropped me off in front of the double doors to the care center.
"Shoot me a call when you're ready to leave." Then she turned the car around and left.
I walked inside and approached the receptionist's desk, my mind preoccupied with the task at hand. I cleared my throat, trying to sound composed as my mind warred with the idea that she still wouldn't remember who I am.
"Excuse me," I began, "I'm here to see Lisa Flint. Can you tell me her room number?"
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, glanced up from her computer screen. She furrowed her brow in concentration as she typed something into the database.
"Lisa Flint?" she repeated, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "I'm sorry, sir, but there's no one by that name here."
Wait, her name wasn't Flint. Even though I had been given my dad's surname, technically they were never married so she would still have had her maiden name, which was…shit how do I not know this?
I racked my brain, trying to come up with another name to try. Finally, I spoke up again, unsure. "Lisa Graves," I said hesitantly. "Could you check under Lisa Graves?"
The receptionist nodded, her fingers flying over the keys once more. After a moment, her expression softened, and she turned the monitor towards me.
"It looks like Lisa Graves was transferred out of the facility several months ago," she pointed out gently. "She was placed into the care of a family member."
'Remanded into care of family.' Is all the file stated.
My mind raced as I tried to process the information. Lisa Graves... transferred... family member. It didn't make sense. My mother had never mentioned any other family to me. And her parents had died when she was young, leaving her an orphan. So who could this mysterious family member be?
A dark thought crept into my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. Steven Flint tested my mother's parameters against the Meta Emergence Serum, most likely through use of her blood. Could it have been my father who had taken her away? Had he been hiding the fact he had mom moved from me since that far back? Did he have her locked up in a dark room somewhere, taking her blood whenever he felt like it?
My blood went cold. "Was it... was it my dad who took her away?" I asked, a dark anger seeping into my voice.
The receptionist shook her head, her expression sympathetic. "No, I don't believe so," she replied. "I remember it was a woman who came to take her. She was dressed smartly, and she looked quite similar to your mother. I'm sorry, I don't remember much else."
My heart sank even further at the revelation. Who was this woman who supposedly looked similar to my mother? A cousin? A sister?
Mom had never talked about her extended family as far as I remembered. The possibilities seemed endless, and the thought I might have more family out there in the world was interesting but ultimately provided me with no comfort right now.
"She didn't leave any contact info?" I questioned.
"If there's nothing on file, then I suppose not," the receptionist offered me a commiserating half-smile.
"Can I get the file printed?"
The receptionist nodded and swiftly printed the document onto two sheets of paper.
I thanked the receptionist mechanically before turning away, my mind swirling with unanswered questions. As I made my way out of the care center, a sense of dread settled over me like a heavy blanket, weighing me down with its oppressive presence. A single pervasive question echoing in my mind over and over again.
Where the hell was my mom?
I paced back and forth in the dimly lit confines of the bottom floor of my warehouse, my mind swirling with uncertainty and doubt.
I had spent hours scribbling down half-baked plans, each one more futile than the last, to find my mother.
Going to the cops was out.
Using Clairvoyance on finding her only seemed to lead me into the issue of whether or not she was even in the city.
I should really go to the Gotham Bridge and find out which way the trail pointed, but what if she was gone from the city, like Steven?
What if she was with Steven and he'd sent that supposed lookalike to pick her up?
My thoughts were a scramble of half-formed plans and paranoias like I was trying to navigate a maze blindfolded, with no end in sight.
I was just a kid, just 16 years old. I wasn't supposed to be dealing with shit like this. I should be in my room, hoping I don't get caught staying up late to play video games. I shouldn't be living out of a warehouse, I shouldn't have to try and teach myself to cook and save money so I didn't starve.
There was a sort of detached awareness that I was quickly spiraling towards a panic attack.
Smudge insistently rubbed up against my legs, a rumbling purr coursing through her.
I grabbed the kitten like a lifeline, clutching her to my chest. Her soft purring pulled me back slowly. God, I loved this cat.
With clarity my mind settled on a single thought, I needed help. This was too much for me to do alone anymore. I had to find my mom, Steven too I guess, at the very least for some closure.
Artemis. I'd find Artemis and ask her to help me. The costumed girl had found Falcone's general location through gang rumors and some snooping, she knew how to do this sort of thing. If anyone could help me track down my mother, it was her.
I put Smudgie back into the office and shut the door so she wouldn't escape into the warehouse.
I couldn't take a taxi to her as I had no idea where she was, and besides I had a new method of travel I was pretty eager to attempt. I climbed up to the roof of the warehouse with almost absurd ease. Being capable of jumping a dozen and a half feet into the air made it laughably easy to climb up there.
And from there I summoned the power of Clairvoyance, I closed my eyes and focused on my target. Then I squeezed the small orb of misty material in the palm of my hand, its ethereal glow casting a faint light in the darkness. With a firm squeeze, I focused my thoughts on Artemis, willing the mist to show me the path to her location.
In response to my command, the mist coalesced into a shimmering trail, weaving its way ahead of me and now with my new capabilities factoring in the fact I could jump inhuman distances with ease, the mist curved through the air between dozens of rooftops in arcs. A sight only I could see, an illusionary path leading me towards my destination.
I really, really hope Super Jump doesn't crap out on me in some way.
And so with a leap of faith, I launched myself from the rooftop, following the trail of mist as it wound its way through the cityscape. Each jump bringing me closer to Artemis.
Leaping forward, I felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins as I propelled myself from one rooftop to the next. For brief moments, I was weightless, suspended in mid-air, free from the constraints of gravity. It was exhilarating, the feeling of freedom that came with each leap filling me with a sense of euphoria.
I vaulted from building to building, the city skyline lying beneath me in all of its gothic eminence.
I needed to catch my breath, so I landed on a tall looming building, resplendent with gray, snarling gargoyles and patterned stonework. 'This is amazing!' I had never put much stock in the city's beauty. To me, particularly in the last several weeks, Gotham was a gritty and filthy city, in which lay far too many gangs, and things lurking in the shadows.
This city needed a hero like Batman because the terrifying hero was to those darker facets of the city as great a threat as they were to normal people. But, seeing it from here, I had no doubt that Batman also saw the beauty here as something worth protecting.
Gotham was an old city, and they didn't make architectural pieces like this anymore. Which was a shame really, the more modern buildings were flashy with their smooth mirrored glass and sleek outer appearance, but they were plain to look at beyond that; this wasn't, it was art.
Eventually, after I had caught my breath, I continued on, leaping through the night.
Entirely reliant on a magical GPS as I was, even I, with my lack of directional awareness, could tell that I was quickly approaching Chinatown. The neon lights of Chinatown loomed in the distance, decorative and quite honestly stereotypical red lanterns hung in several streets. The mist of Clairvoyance continued to guide me, leading me towards my destination with unerring accuracy.
Until finally, the path came to an end, indicating a building I came to land upon. Huh, Chinatown seemed an unlikely location for Artemis's hideout, considering I hadn't really felt like she was of Asian descent, although that might be the point, as who would think to look for a non-Asian in Asian central.
Peering over the side carefully, Clairvoyance extended down the side of the building before pointing at a partially opened apartment window.
Despite my initial surprise at the location, I couldn't help but think about climbing down and sneaking in through the window to catch Artemis off guard. I mean, she's got skills when it comes to sneaking around, like that time she popped up in my warehouse out of nowhere while I was sleeping. Payback would be sweet, right?
Then of course I remembered that she was perfectly willing to fire very sharp arrows at me during our first ill-fated meeting, and that now she knew I could heal said arrow wounds, she might be even more inclined to put one through me. There was also the fact she was a girl, probably not the greatest idea to sneak into a girl's home unannounced in the middle of the night. A glance at my phone said it was 8pm, some people went to sleep that early.
It would probably be better to err on the side of caution here and just knock.
With a sigh, I abandoned the idea and resolved to take a more civil approach.
Summoning my courage, I opened the door to the stairwell with a yank and descended the stairs two by two and made my way to her apartment door. After a brief moment of hesitation, I raised my hand and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.
I pulled my scarf down to let my sweaty face breathe.
The door swung open after only a minute, to my surprise, revealing a Southeast Asian woman seated in a wheelchair. She regarded me with a curious expression, her eyes assessing me with a hint of suspicion. It was clear that she wasn't expecting visitors, especially not at this hour.
I cleared my throat. "Um, I think I might have knocked on the wrong door," I stated awkwardly.
"You look young, are you one of Artemis' friends?"
Oh, this lady knew the superheroine I was looking for! That was a relief. She must be Artemis' unfortunately literal lady in the chair, a trope I was familiar with from fiction. It was when a hero had someone off-site communicating with them who helped direct them to crimes in progress. Super cool! "Yes, it's good to meet you," I greeted with a nod. "You can call me—"
"Marty?!" The shocked voice of a teenage girl came from inside.
I mentally groaned, 'Oh come on!' That was going to be the first time I introduced myself to another person with my superhero name and she ruined it.
Artemis stomped up next to the chair-bound older woman. "What are you doing here?" She grit out behind a glare.
"I need your help with—"
For the second time in as many minutes I was cut off.
"The project!" Her eyes were glaring into mine like she was trying to communicate something. Hmm, she actually looked a fair bit like the woman in the wheelchair.
Oh. Oooh. I felt a slow smile spread across my face.
"Artemis, you didn't tell me Gotham Academy gave you a summer project," the woman frowned. "Still you are welcome to sit for dinner, Marty was it?" The woman's voice was welcoming.
Artemis was shaking her head at me slowly. Naturally, this only further galvanized me. Oh, vengeance would be sweet. "Yes ma'am, and I would love to."
Huh, her mom called her Artemis too, did she know her daughter was a vigilante? Unless…she actually used her real name in some sort of hiding in plain sight thing.
A memory of our banter from weeks ago resurfaced. "I'll have you know that I didn't choose this name, it was given to me."
That little…
"Come in and sit down then," she said, "the Tom Kha Gai just finished."
The apartment was a bit small, but definitely roomy enough for two people. The woman in the wheelchair rolled around to the kitchen table.
"What's Tom Kha Gai?" I blurted out, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Mrs.—huh I had no idea what their last name was—turned her attention to me, a warm smile softening her features. "Tom Kha Gai is a traditional Thai soup," she explained, her voice gentle. "It's made with coconut milk, chicken, mushrooms, and flavored with lemongrass, and lime leaves. It's quite fragrant and flavorful. You don't have any allergies, do you Marty?"
"Oh, that sounds amazing," I replied, my mouth watering at the description. "And uh no, at least not that I know of Mrs." I trailed off.
"You can call me Paula," she added kindly.
"Thanks, Mrs. Paula," I said, relieved to have something to address her by.
Just as I was about to inquire further about the soup, Paula's attention shifted to the real reason I was here. "So, Marty, what's this project you and Artemis are working on that my daughter neglected to mention?" she asked, her eyes curious and expectant.
Caught off guard by the question, I stumbled over my words for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible answer. "W-well."
Before I could respond, Artemis intervened, smoothly stepping in to save the day with a fabricated summer project about writing a report on Gotham's historical founding.
"I see," Paula regarded us both with a knowing look, her brow furrowing slightly. "So, which of my daughter's team members are you?" she asked, her tone tinged with amusement and a hint of exasperation.
"Mom! You can't talk about that," Artemis protested.
"Sorry, was I supposed to continue pretending this boy didn't enter from the top of the building rather than the bottom?"
"What?" Questioned Artemis, whirling on me. "How did you…?"
"When he didn't appear on the security camera downstairs I suspected, but the fact he couldn't even talk about your supposed summer project sold you out. Honestly daughter, I'm not blind."
My mind raced as Ms. Paula's words sunk in, leaving me wildly confused and utterly perplexed. Teams? What teams? I glanced over at Artemis, who looked like she was ready to strangle me, her eyes shooting daggers in my direction.
"I-I'm not part of any team," I stammered, attempting to clear up the confusion. "And I had no idea Artemis was either." My words came out in a jumble, my voice tinged with genuine bewilderment.
Artemis muttered something under her breath about operational security and the imminent wrath of Batman, but her words only served to deepen my confusion. What did Batman have to do with any of this?
Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head. "Wait, so you do work for Batman!" I exclaimed, a mixture of excitement and disbelief coloring my voice. The pieces were starting to come together, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration at the thought of being in the presence of a larger-than-life superhero - even if it was indirectly.
Artemis shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her expression tense as she struggled to find the right words. "I can't talk about it, Mom," she began, her voice strained with frustration. "It's classified, and if I say too much, it could put the others on the team in danger."
Ms. Paula's eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "Artemis Lian Crock! I don't care about your team right now," she snapped, her tone sharp with anger. "I want to know who this boy is and why he's involved in whatever dangerous business you're mixed up in."
Feeling the weight of her gaze pan over to me, bearing down on me with its figurative weight, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly acutely aware of the soup sitting untouched in front of me. "I helped Artemis out with a mission a few weeks back," I admitted. "We fought the mob."
Artemis's head slammed into the table with a groan, and I shot her an apologetic look, realizing too late that I might have just made things worse. Paula rounded on her daughter, her anger palpable as she admonished her for going behind her back.
"You said you wouldn't go out alone anymore!" Paula's voice cracked with emotion, her frustration evident in every word. "I wanted you out of this life, but I compromised with Batman for your sake, to get you on that team! And you went behind my back. Why should I allow you to go back to that team?"
As the tension in the room reached its breaking point, I felt really guilty for inadvertently causing this rift between the mother and daughter. And as I considered my next words carefully, I made a mental note to steer clear of mentioning our first meeting - the last thing Ms. Paula needed to hear was that her daughter had been shot on my account.
Before I could say anything though Artemis spoke up.
"You have no right to talk to me like that!" Artemis's frustration bubbled over, her voice sharp with pent-up anger. "I went along with it because it was what I wanted," she snapped, her words biting with resentment. "But if you think you can come back after three years, leaving me alone with him," she emphasized the word 'him' with venom, "and just pretend like you can start acting like my mother again, you can think again."
Her words hung heavy in the air, the tension between mother and daughter reaching a breaking point. I watched in silence, unsure of how to intervene in the heated exchange unfolding before me. It was clear that there were deeper wounds at play here. Man I had really stepped in it.
As Paula's expression softened, her eyes filled with regret, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the woman. "I don't want you out there alone and dying. Artemis please," she begged her daughter, grabbing her hand and pressing it between her own, having rolled up to her. "You are all I have left."
Artemis flinched away from the emotional attack, her eyes glancing at me for a moment, no doubt remembering the time she had been alone and nearly died from a gunshot to the stomach. Then, she let herself be pulled into her mother's embrace.
I didn't know their situation specifically, but Paula was Artemis' mom and I would give anything for my own mom to remember me right now, much less be worried enough for me to shout. 'You have to find her first, Marty. Remember what you came here for,' I reminded myself, steeling my resolve.
In the midst of the heated exchange, I couldn't stay silent any longer. "Hey, she's not entirely alone," I interjected, my voice surprisingly firm despite the nerves churning in my stomach. "I was there too y'know, and I'm no Batman or anyone else on this secret team of superheroes, but I think I can at least hold my own."
Both Artemis and Paula turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity. I took a deep breath, pushing past the apprehension that threatened to consume me. "Besides, Artemis is plenty capable of taking care of herself," I continued, my tone growing more confident with each word. "She's saved my butt a few times, actually that's how we met," I flubbed the truth a bit, but technically she might've saved me, I mean who knew how long those gangsters would've stayed in the warehouse that night, or how thoroughly they would have searched it?
Artemis shot me a grateful glance. As for Paula, her expression softened even further, her features reflecting a mixture of surprise and gratitude.
"Is that so?" Paula's voice held a hint of amusement as she regarded me with newfound interest. "Well, I suppose that's one way to make friends."
I nodded, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I found my voice again. "Yeah, or something like that," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that Artemis isn't alone in all of this."
"Thank you Martin," she smiled. "You seem like a good boy, don't let my daughter bully you too much."
"Mom!"
My face heated. I didn't typically let anyone call me Martin, I preferred to go by Marty, but I kind of liked it when she said it like that, it was very…motherly.
I can see you've been eyeing the soup," the mother said, "do you not like Vietnamese food? I could make you something else if you'd prefer."
"No, no!" I waved my hands in refusal of the offer. "It actually smells really good," I said truthfully.
Paula cut through the remaining tension with a smile and invited me to dig in. "Well then, let's all eat."
The aroma of the soup wafted up invitingly, and I eagerly took a spoonful, savoring the new flavors with each bite.
The sound of spoons clinking against plates was the only thing heard for the next several minutes as we all dug into the bowls of soup.
When we were done, I put my bowl in the sink and rinsed it out, but when I made to wash it, Paula intervened.
"Leave your plate for me, I'm sure you had a reason for coming here, beyond watching my daughter and I get in a fight, or your supposed project," she looked at her daughter with a raised eyebrow. "You two go ahead and talk, I'll just be in the kitchen."
I followed Artemis to a comfortable living room.
Artemis looked at me with a glint in her eyes. "Wanna spar?" she asked, her voice tinged with malice.
I looked at her apprehensively, fearing payback for being the catalyst for her mother discovering her actions. I don't know if I was going to survive this 'spar.' "Do you have blunted arrows, or are you planning to hide my body?" I joked hesitantly.
Artemis laughed and sarcastically replied, "Oh, don't be ridiculous, you would never see it coming if I wanted you gone."
I chuckled nervously, noting she didn't actually answer the question. "Well, it wouldn't be a very good spar if I didn't have a spear, I don't know how to fight with anything else," I pointed out. "And I don't think turning you into an animal again would make for much of a fight."
Artemis pointed a finger straight up as if to correct me, "if you can manage to hit me with that giant glowing dodgeball again then I deserve it. Besides I'd kick your ass as a cat too. But I might have something for you to use."
Artemis tapped her chin and disappeared from the kitchen and living room area.
I took the chance to look around a bit as I was left to my own devices, there was no fireplace as this was an apartment but there was a mantle with a few pictures on it.
One of a clearly younger Artemis standing with a dark-haired older girl, a couple of each of them separately, then one of the two girls at a much younger age and Paula standing behind them. I guess she hadn't always been bound to a wheelchair.
I heard footsteps and turned around to see Artemis.
"You done snooping?" She was dressed in her suit, sans mask, and holding a massive duffel bag which she threw to me.
I caught it with a surprised look, and staggered under the weight. "Sorry, I was just curious. So pigtails huh?" I mumbled from around a faceful of duffel bag, pointing towards the pictures.
Artemis grumbled some unflattering words under her breath.
"Are you super into sports or something?" I asked. Unzipping the bag had revealed a treasure trove of professional-grade sporting equipment, including several steel-tipped javelins.
Artemis shook her head. "Not really. Archery is more my style," she replied guardedly. "But you could say my father is really big on sports."
I mentally noted that I hadn't seen any indication of her father in any of the photos on the mantle. It was probably best not to mention him then.
I took up the javelin, getting a feel for it. It was sturdy and lightweight.
A light spear clearly intended to be thrown for sport rather than be used in prolonged confrontations, but I could make do. The weapon lent me some confidence. "Alright where are we gonna do this?"
We stood on the rooftop, the cool night air swirling around us as we prepared for our spar.
Artemis led me through a series of stretches that had me feeling like I was going to rip myself apart during them.
I adjusted the grip on my javelin. "I decided on a name by the way," I informed her.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yup," I thumbed my chest. "You can call me Influx."
"Influx? I guess that's original, probably not taken either," she admitted. "Pretty lame compared to Artemis though."
"First of all, you used your own name for your hero name, that's just lazy."
"Artemis is a good cover, okay? No one would suspect that's my real name," she defended, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Might as well go around shouting out your full legal name. What was it again?"
Artemis scowled, her cheeks flushing slightly under the light of the city skyline. "Don't you dare."
"Artemis Lian Crock, doesn't exactly scream badass. You know what? I think I'll call you Arty," I badgered her.
"You won't if you know what's good for you. Fight starts when the arrow lands," she stated, clearly eager to do me some amount of physical harm.
"Woah now! Don't break my arms over it."
"I just might," she promised.
We moved further apart, and I cast my Sign of Protection over myself as soon as my back was turned to her.
Each of us stood on opposite sides of the rooftop, the city skyline stretching out around us like a sea of lights. She tossed an arrow up in the air underhand, the metal glinting in the moonlight before it clattered to the ground, signaling the start of our spar.
I tensed, ready for whatever she had in store with my javelin in hand. Artemis wasted no time, drawing her bow and sending a duo of blunt-tipped arrows hurtling towards me. I yelped, instinctively dodging one but stumbling right into the path of the other. It struck me in the gut, and an orange glow flared up around me, absorbing the impact and letting the arrow fall, inert of momentum.
"What the heck is that?" She complained. "You can just ignore my arrows now? What even is your superpower? It's like you have something new every time I see you."
"My power is getting more powers," I told her sagely.
"What?! That's bullshit!"
"I know," I agreed giddily, having long since realized how cool it was.
Two more arrows hit me in the midst of my pontification. The second of which managed to break my shield.
I watched the orange fragments dissipate into the ether. Seriously, that was it? Three arrows and my shield shatters.
I mean I didn't really put much mana into it that time, just a smidge over the minimum casting cost. I guess it was a good thing to form baselines of what it took to break my Quen.
The next arrow that came was right for my head. I flinched and swiped it to the side with the javelin. "Hey, watch it! I didn't have my defensive up that time."
"So I did break it! Good to know!"
She hadn't been idle, drawing closer with each arrow she fired at me.
I flicked some Incinerates at her, hoping to force her to back off. The miniature streams of fire shot towards her, forcing her into a series of acrobatic maneuvers as she dodged and weaved to avoid the flames. All of them struck only the ground.
She laughed, a genuine thrill evident in her voice. "Nice try, Influx, but you'll have to do better than that!" she called out, her movements fluid and graceful as she danced around my Incinerates. At one point even cart-wheeling several times in succession to dodge.
Once she'd gained distance again, she started firing arrows again and I still hadn't cast Quen again. I dropped to my knees allowing an arrow to soar overhead, and cast it. Pouring in a bit more mana this time to the point that the glow sharply outlined my body.
As our spar intensified, I found myself making a series of mistakes, stumbling over my own feet and misjudging Artemis' moves.
Whenever she got in too close and forced a melee, I managed to hold my own pretty thanks to the javelin she let me use. She mainly attacked with kicks and sweeps while trying to whack me with that very solid looking bow. It was fairly easy to keep just out of her melee radius with my javelin.
She ducked away from a lunge and rolled to the side. Geez, that was annoying. What was she, a Dark Souls player?
At the end of her dodge I quickly cast Polymorph to try and catch her unaware but she was ready for it and managed to dodge.
Each time I thought I had an opening to end the spar she managed to counter it. Was she baiting me?
The agreed upon conditions were either forcing a yield or if I managed to hit her with Polymorph.
An arrow hit me in the thigh as I was too fatigued to attempt to dodge. My shield having withstood the past several minutes, decided enough was enough, and shattered a second time.
The agreed upon conditions were either forcing a yield or if I managed to hit her with Polymorph.
She reached back for another arrow only to grab at air.
I was panting heavily. A chance! Polymorph mixed together in my hands and I thrust them out for the second time, trying to catch her with the transformative spell.
She dodged, rolling yet again to the side and grabbing something off the ground. Polymorph splashed harmlessly against the roof as she nocked back one of the discarded arrows.
She fired at me and there was no time to dodge to the side. My legs tensed and I jumped in desperation.
I leaped into the air, Artemis, nearly a dozen feet below me, stared shocked at my newest feat.
I reared back and chucked the javelin as I hit my apex, it missed but it forced her to move.
The throw knocked me off my equilibrium and I suddenly had to try really hard to land on my feet, my arms waving in the air to keep me feet-down.
My soles hit the stone floor again and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Wham!
There was a flash of a green bow and before I knew it, Artemis had swiftly tripped me up with a hit from her bow, sending me sprawling to the ground in a heap. I winced as I felt the impact, realizing just how outmatched I was in this spar. Still I could try…
"Uh uh uh," Artemis mocked an arrow in her hand with its point to my chest.
I let the beginnings of Polymorph fade away from my hands. "Alright, you win. I yield."
Artemis accepted her win with grace, pulling me to my feet.
As the adrenaline from our spar began to fade, I guzzled down a water bottle I was handed.
"Want some advice?" Artemis asked, eyeing me critically.
I pulled myself away from the bottle. "Sure."
"You're too reactive, you let me control the pace of the fight from the beginning."
I nodded in acknowledgement.
"Also, you barely moved from where you started from while letting me run all over the place. You need to be more proactive and deny space to your opponent."
I did notice that she was moving a lot but it didn't even occur to me to do the same. Probably because I knew my endurance kind of sucked. "I'd tire myself out jumping and rolling around like you."
"Do your powers stop you from building stamina?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't think so."
"There you go, you need cardio."
I nodded grudgingly. I didn't wanna do stamina training but I probably should, particularly because I couldn't think of a game that might give me better endurance. It would only become more of a problem in the future.
"Well aside from all that, you didn't do too bad. Oh but never jump into the air like that again unless you have a way to control yourself in mid-air, you leave yourself too vulnerable," she explained.
"I almost got you with the javelin though," I protested.
"No, you didn't. Plus, if it weren't a spar the second you were in the air I could have put at least two arrows in you, that's not even mentioning how easy it is to tell where you're going to land and then capitalize on that. Which, if you notice, is how I got you," she pointed out.
"Alright I get it, I get it. No more super jumps while fighting," I ceded. "I bet I could've beat you if you didn't have your bow though."
"Yeah and I could've knocked you out with my first arrow if you didn't have your bullshit super powers."
I hummed in agreement.
"Speaking of, what do you mean your power is getting more powers?"
Oh right, I had yet to explain that.
Artemis leaned back against the door to the stairwell, crossing her arms. "So, spill it. What's the deal with your powers?"
I hesitated, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before diving into the story. "Well, as far as I can tell, it all started when my dad injected me with this sketchy serum," I began, scratching the back of my neck nervously.
"Your dad injected you? What kind of serum?" Artemis interrupted, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
"Yeah, long story short, he didn't exactly ask for my consent, or even tell me he'd done it," I replied, a bitter edge creeping into my voice. "I had to figure most of this out myself."
Artemis nodded commiseratingly. "I understand shit dads at least."
"Anyway, my dad worked for Stagg Industries developing this formula that was supposed to make people develop powers, but according to what I read, almost everyone who ever took the formula died."
"Except for you," she pointed out.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Except for me…for some reason."
Suddenly she lashed out punching me in the shoulder. "Don't say that like it's a bad thing you idiot."
"Ow! I didn't say it was! It just doesn't make sense." I rubbed my shoulder. "Anyway the same night my powers activated, my dad was working late. Next thing I know he's on the phone, shouting at me to burn some documents, before the call cuts out."
"Then some people dressed like soldiers busted into our condo, and I jumped out of the window. Only managing to live because the power I picked kept me alive."
"Sorry, 'power you picked,' what exactly does that mean?"
"Every time I completely beat a video game, I get to choose an ability based on the video game."
There was silence for a moment. Artemis seemed to be waiting for another response.
"Wait you're serious? That's ridiculous." She deadpanned.
"I know, but I can prove it," I claimed to her, desperate to share this with someone.
"Go on then," she urged me.
I'd only done this a handful of times since that first night, it should work now, but I really hoped it wasn't an illusion like Clairvoyance. I slapped my palm onto the glass viewing portion of the rooftop door.
Spreading from beneath my hand, a glowing green backdrop spread across the glass and blocky white letters formed my list.
[Dying Light; Freerunning Proficiency-You are now capable of parkour and acrobatic maneuvers to a good level.]
[The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim; Clairvoyance- An [Active Use Magic] that generates a trail to follow to any target you visualize.
Healing Hands- An [Active Use Magic] that infuses your hands with a healing touch.]
[Bioshock; Incinerate-An [Active Use Magic] that launches a small flame projectile which clings to targets it strikes.]
[Warcraft 2; Tides of Darkness: Polymorph-An [Active Use Magic] that transforms the intended target into a small animal, influenced by your intent. The transformation lasts five minutes, reduced by the target's will to overcome it.]
[Assassin's Creed Revelations; Aged Assassin's Armamental Artistry-Grants mastery of chosen weapon type. Subchoice: Spear.]
[Super Mario Brothers; Super Jump-Your legs are enhanced when you jump, allowing you to go higher, and absorb greater impacts when you land.]
[Witcher 2; Quen, Sigil of Protection-An [Active Use Magic] that creates a forcefield centered around you, absorbing kinetic and magical energy. Weakens with attacks absorbed, diminishing in defensiveness until it shatters.]
My full list of abilities was laid bare before her.
"Y-you can see them, right?" I asked for confirmation.
She didn't turn to face me, still perusing my list. "Yeah, I can see them. Just not sure I'm believing yet."
After another minute the list faded away from the glass, and Artemis spoke up again. "So were the abilities in any kind of order there?"
"Yeah, they were chronological."
"So the power that saved you from going splat on a Gotham City sidewalk was…being good at parkour?"
"Yeah, I guess," I confirmed, a bit confused at the question.
Artemis burst out laughing.
You know how people say that there's a difference between someone laughing at you or laughing with you? This was definitely the former.
"Yo-you picked a superpower th-that I learned in the third grade!" She stuttered out between bouts of laughter, doubled over.
"It's not that funny," I insisted watching her stitch up with laughter.
"Ok ok," she straightened up. "Whew. I needed that laugh."
"So I have a question for you now. The question had been burning a hole in my mind since earlier, I just couldn't see any other way that she might've worked with Batman. "Is this secret team you're on the Justice League?"
"I can't talk about the team."
"Oh my God! It is, isn't it?! Ok, blink once for yes and twice for no!" I stared at her eyes, waiting, and waiting, and…"you're not blinking."
"Nope."
"Are you going to blink?" I queried.
"I am not."
"C'mooon, I can keep a secret!"
She pinned me with a look. "You literally just told on me to my mother."
"That doesn't count, I didn't know it was supposed to be secret," I protested.
"Then you have a lack of common sense," she griped.
"No," I retorted. "You apparently have a whole team of secret superheroes that are supposed to watch your back, and you still went out alone. Seems to me like you're the one without common sense."
"I-shut up! Batman doesn't like too many heroes interfering in Gotham."
"Aha! So you do work with Batman!" I exclaimed.
Artemis sighed.
I leaned in to share the fan theory every Batman blog follower in the city had argued over for years now. "So Robin. Is he the big guy's son? And why does Batman let him dress up like a big red target all the time if he is?"
Artemis frowned. "He doesn't anymore, he's in darker tones now."
"Yeah, I know that," everyone in Gotham noticed that shift a few years back. The bright red, yellow, and green number Robin used to jump around in, was replaced by a more muted red and yellow with a black cape. "But he used to."
"I don't know, you'll have to ask Robin if you ever meet him."
Her tone indicated that she would not be the one introducing me, so I just hummed in agreement, my excitement dying down as I peered out over the city.
"Marty?"
I turned back to face the archer. "Yeah?"
"Why did you come here tonight?"
"I-uh, I need help," I took a breath and then sat down on the rooftop fiddling with one of the arrows that still hadn't been collected. "I moved in with my dad a few years back because Mom got early-onset Alzheimer's. The doctors said it was a bad case, and that she was losing more and more of her memories everyday."
Who are you?
It had been more than a year, almost one and a half now, but it did nothing to dull the sharp grief produced by those three words. It took a second but I managed to continue speaking. "It sucked to say the very least, and I kind of put it out of mind you know?" I searched the green-suited heroine for understanding.
Artemis nodded, sitting across from me.
"But then, I got these powers. And despite the shitty way I had to find out about them, and the circumstances with my da—Steven, I thought it was all worth it if somehow I got just the right ability to fix Mom's head, then I could have her back."
"But you haven't found the right game yet?" Artemis questioned gently, before trying to cut the mood with a joke. "Hate to tell you this, but I don't really play video games, you're better off looking for answers at a ComicCon or something."
"No, it's not that," I shook my head. "I mean I haven't found the game yet, but the problem is my mom is gone."
"When you say gone…"
"I went today to the care home she was staying at to visit her, and she's not there anymore. They said a family member transferred her out, but Mom never told me about any family other than my grandparents and they're both dead."
I handed the arrow to Artemis. "My mom is missing, and I think she was kidnapped. I need your help to find her."
AN: I keep upping the ante on these chapter lengths. I don't know why I couldn't manage to find a place to end it earlier.
Anyway, this chapter is the first part of beginning to connect Marty to the Young Justice timeline. I could just tell you where we'll be inserting into the story, but where is the fun in that?
Tell me what you guys think of the name Influx.
Also in this chapter, the return of Willow, because she's a fun OC, and beginning the missing mom plotline. That'll be fun.
I wonder if our hero, Influx, is ever gonna meet Robin.
I'm not going to list his abilities, even though he got some new ones this chapter, because the full-list is already in the text.