J'onn did not have a favorable view of subterfuge. To be specific, he didn't like it when someone attempted it with him. He understood the strategic uses of it as part of his job, expecially when working undercover, but that same job exposed him to people that didn't want to tell him the whole truth as it would further implicate them. He had seen many versions of it: omission, hedging, even outright lying.

Your average Martian was not good at it. They would be too nervous and give themselves away within moments. J'onn found these attempts more amusing than anything. They stumbled, they hesitated, they bumbled around to find the right words; such attempts didn't last long when he ultimately brought down his authority. However, a true practitioner had years of experience of framing their words and actions. There was an air of arrogance they accompanied these individuals, ones that J'onn couldn't help but view unfavorably. Their confidence in their deceitful behavior often left a bitter taste.

Over the years of constant exposure and J'onn found his tolerance for it had fallen. Now, he discovered, his own brother had omitted the fact that he had multiple research papers locked away due to their subject matter. The older Martian had taken the liberty to view his brother's research catalogue, not trusting him to confirm the entire picture rather than only a part. That was what he had been doing thus far, so removing that as a tactic was necessary.

What he learned was astonishing, if not infuriating. Upon learning that Ma'alefa'ak had once written a paper detailing the potential for an artificially-designed pathogen, something he had failed to mention in their previous conversations, J'onn's anger was pulpable. This reinforced his determination to not be caught off-guard, causing J'onn to look into his brother's various research projects and learned there were quite a few taboo subjects.

And by few, he meant alot.

So here he was, on the university campus once more, striding towards Ma'alefa'ak lab. A confrontation was necessary, even if it came on the heels of a familial moment between them. While J'onn wasn't one to believe significant progress had been made to close the rift between them, he felt they were at least taking positive steps. Their impending talk may reinforce their separation considering he would not be kowtowing to his brother's mood this time.

The university's campus formed a large square, the buildings forming the perimeter. At its center was a lush courtyard, a green lawn with stone paths etched into it. There were various benches placed about, usually close to towering leafy trees. The vegetation was well-maintained, making it quite picturesque.

None of this J'onn paid mind to. In fact, he was walking a straight line across the area, ignoring the pathways outright unless his path intersected them. The shortest distance between two points was a straight line and the Manhunter wanted to reach his destination quickly.

Of course, his actions would not go unnoticed.

There were some young Martians watching him walk by, eyes wide in astonishment. They were students, no doubt. Based off of their looks and the surprised thoughts that radiated from them, it was clear they were unfamiliar with law enforcement. That was a good thing.

However, as he reached the opposite side of the courtyard, J'onn saw a couple of adults, one of whom was a school administrator and two were marked as security. The three Martians waited patiently for him to reach them.

"Officer," the administrator greeted him. "We must speak."

"In what regard does it entail?" J'onn responded as he came to a stop in front of them.

"Your presence is disturbing our student body. I wish to insist that you follow proper protocols when on this campus."

"I need to urgently speak to one of your professors. While I apologize for my disruption, this discussion needs to happen immediately, thus my haste through your campus."

"I still insist that you follow our rules and guidelines, Officer. None of my students are breaking the rules in your precinct, so your current actions are unacceptable."

"If your students were in my precinct, it is because they had broken the law prior to their arrival," J'onn pointed out. "While I understand my presence is distressing them, I do not intend on staying here long. At most, they may gossip about my visit and that will be that."

The administrator did not look pleased at this reply. "To whom are you seeking, Officer?"

"Professor J'onzz."

All three university representatives looked startled by this. "Whatever could you need Professor J'onzz's attention?" the administrator asked.

"He is assisting in an ongoing investigation, one in which you are now interfering with. I now ask you to step aside and allow me to pass."

It was at this time that J'onn noticed the two security officers conversing with each other. They had taken a step back during the exchange between him and the administrator and turned so that they kept the two Martians in their eyesight, but were able to see each other as well. The Manhunter wasn't certain he liked that. However, they ended their conversation and one stepped towards them. "We have located Dr. J'onzz," he reported.

Hmm, it seemed the security officer was trying to end this quickly. He could appreciate that. "He is in his lab, is he not?" J'onn responded.

"He is approaching us, Sir."

J'onn instinctively turned his head, looking to his right and then his left. It was as he looked to his left that he spotted his brother, and he was not alone. There were two others with him.

Even from the closing distance, J'onn could see Ma'alefa'ak looked irritable. He had a fast stride, as if he were trying to leave the two tagalongs behind, but they were quite persistent. It took a moment for J'onn to spot their identification sigil, and he knew why his brother was trying to get away from them.

It seemed members of the press were after him.

It also didn't help that they were clearly using telepathy to speak to him. There was nothing that annoyed Ma'alefa'ak more than being spoken to telepathically. It was why J'onn had transitioned to oral speech when they were originally reunited. There was this sense of bemusement that welled up within the Martian. He could almost feel sympathy for the reporters at their faux pas.

After all, it was not common for a Martian to not be telepathic.

Out of all of the Martians, Ma'alefa'ak was the only Martian he knew that could not use telepathy. He simply had not developed the ability, much to the shock of those around him. It had been a source of embarrassment for the intelligent Martian as well, something that would becoming a festering wound whenever he was spoken to. He had become quite sullen when it was determined he would not be able to take part in a Martian's natural birthright, something that had started the initial wedge in every relationship he had ever had.

The J'onzz clan had taken great pains to communicate with him orally when the initial discovery had occurred, but little could be done to sooth his brother's anger and distress. Part of that was because oral oratory was associated with children, and thus they were speaking to him as if he were a child. It did not matter they were trying to be considerate, Ma'alefa'ak had assumed they were speaking down to him in this fashion, feelings that only receeded as he aged. It was this history that had prompted J'onn to speak orally when they had reunited only days ago.

A thought occurred to J'onn. The lack of telepathy would have excluded much of normal society for Ma'alefa'ak. What had been considered strange with his research into the Great Mind now felt like something his brother would have wanted to investigate. He would have heard about it, but not actually interact with, thus his study of it.

"Leave me alone!" Ma'alefa'ak snapped at some point, his voice echoing throughout the courtyard. His sudden vocalization surprised the reporters as they actually stopped walking and gaped. "I have no desire to converse with glorified gossipers."

"What is the meaning of this?!" the administrator projected, his telepathic speech ringing out. "Why are you harassing one of my professors?"

One of the reporters immediately responded, "It has come to our attention that Professor J'onzz has been assisting the Manhunters in their investigation in regards to the ongoing epidemic. We were hoping the professor could inform us of any progress."

The administrator stared at the three Martians before he turned his attention back to J'onn, who only stood there impassively. The moment he noticed the reporters, he had shifted his red X back to his normal skin tone. He did not need to be involved with the press and had no desire to interact with them either.

The reporters spared J'onn a glance, but paid him little mind since they did not see his missing sigil. "I must insist that you leave the premises," the administrator informed them. "This is not the place for such discussion."

"Or any discussion for that matter," Ma'alefa'ak muttered under his breath.

"The public has a right to know about this epidemic," the other reporter responded. "There is panic in the streets and information is scarce. If we can help to alleviate that panic, it would do Dea'vars some good. Professor J'onzz's expert opinion could help in this."

Or fan the flames more, J'onn mused. A group of panicking people rarely calmed down together, instead feeding on each others' anxieties.

"You want my expert opinion?" Ma'alefa'ak repeated, and J'onn felt a sense of dread within himself. He recognized that tone all too well. "Fine, whatever it takes to rid myself of you vultrixes. This epidemic is only going to get worse. If left untreated, it will overtake this city, if not the planet, which is true of any untreated disease."

"Perhaps you should not continue any further," the administrator interjected.

"No, they wanted my opinion and I will give it," Ma'alefa'ak countered. "We are looking at the early stages of a curse-worthy event. Considering each of the victims of this blooming curse are struck with the sigil of H'ronmeer, during his Holy Week no less, this may very well be the Fire God's display of disapproval of us. One could call this H'ronmeer's Curse in that light."

J'onn widened his eyes. He wished he had misheard that, he really wished he had. By invoking the God of Light, even referencing his Holy Week, there was a certain group of people that would no doubt take issue with this connection. The horrified look on the university administrator's face showed that he realized this implication as well.

And the two reporters greedily ate up Ma'alefa'ak's pronouncement.

"We are looking at the early stages of a curse-worthy event. Considering each of the victims of this blooming curse are struck with the sigil of H'ronmeer, during his Holy Week no less, this may very well be the Fire God's display of disapproval of us. One could call this H'ronmeer's Curse in that light."

Such…such blasphemy! How dare this Professor J'onzz speak such profane words?! Did he not have the proper deference to the god that brought him into this world, his salvation in a world of chaos and strife?

Such thoughts were projected within the council room. Priest He'mor could sense the outrage from his fellow priests, the same emotion he himself was feeling. This so-called professor had aired such despicable thoughts—and the media! They were running with it! In fact, they were declaring this disease H'ronmeer's Curse!

Could they not see that the Church was even more crucial in this dark time? People needed to believe they would be saved from the invisible threat that stood banging at their door. The people were scared and afraid, as they should be. They needed guidance. H'ronmeer's disciples were more than ready to offer their services in this regard.

Yet, by declaring this disease the work of H'ronmeer, it was turning away the very people that needed their help. How many lives would this cost? How many souls would be lost as Martian after Martian turned their back on their religious obligations? More would fall ill and it would only fuel this blasphemy more.

"Who is this Professor J'onzz?" one of the leadership demanded. Priest Ov'id had presided over this council for what felt like centuries. He was as implacable as a stone. He had a towering physique, making him appear as if he were the largest Martian there. He wasn't gigantic, but he was easily the tallest by a few centimeters, his shoulders broad, and he held himself with a stiff posture that made him appear more like a statue than a man.

"We have been looking into this professor and I am afraid to say that he is not without controversy," another priest, Priest V'ald'imir reported. "He seems to court it when able."

"Then what is he doing involving himself with this illness?" Priest Ov'id questioned.

"He was involved by one of the Manhunters," Priest He'mor responded. "In this recorded segment, I recognized the Manhunter in the background. He is one of the two liaisons that are investigating this crisis."

"And the name of this Manhunter?"

"Officer J'onn J'onzz."

There were many heads that perked up upon hearing this. "J'onzz and J'onzz," Priest Ov'id murmured. "Are they connected as their surname suggests?"

Priest He'mor nodded. He had looked into this the moment he recognized the similar surname. "I looked into the matter and discovered they are indeed brothers, albeit estranged."

"Yet, Officer J'onzz consulted Professor J'onzz. I would not say that is estrangement if they are on speaking terms," Priest V'ald'imir pointed out.

There were concurring murmurs throughout the council. Priest He'mor could not find fault with this logic either. Clearly there was some foul plot afoot with these J'onzz brothers. The manhunter had the audacity to suggest the Church was involved with this epidemic; the professor was now making the claim the pestilence was the work of H'ronmeer. It was clear they were united. What their reason for slandering the Church was, he did not know, but they would be the cause of untold suffering because of it.

"I have presided over this church for some time now," Priest Ov'id suddenly spoke. "I have witnessed as Martian after Martian slowly drifted away from the Church's bosom. Our congregation is a fraction of what it once was. H'ronmeer has afforded us a rare opportunity to restore our place in our congregation's lives, but now that opportunity is being turned against us. We must not let this weakened us further."

Once again, there were murmuring agreements. "I want to know everything about this Professor J'onzz. I want to learn everything about his connection with the Manhunters. Then I want them disgraced to the point that not even a child would believe them. I will not watch on as our faith is ripped apart and cast aside like a forgotten toy. Our work is necessary for the continuation of Mars and its people. Without proper deference, the gods may cast us aside and leave us unprotected against forces that would seek to tear us apart. This cannot be allowed to happen."

Priest Ov'id turned his attention to He'mor. "Brother He'mor, continue to be our liaison with the Manhunters. Pass along our displeasure with the inclusion of Professor J'onzz and that any future cooperation is threatened so long as he is involved with this. Demand disciplinary action against Officer J'onzz for his role in this."

Priest He'mor nodded his confirmation. That would be a simple task.

"Brother V'ald'imir, continue your research into Professor J'onzz. We will need to discredit him quickly to reduce the damage he has caused. We also need to release a press release that denies these accusations. Make no mistake, we are in need of damage control. We cannot tolerate the further erosion of our faith.

"If these J'onzz brothers need to be sacrificed, then so be it."

K'ren knew something was up. There just seemed to be this tension in the air.

It all had to do with that interview with Professor J'onzz. Everyone on campus, be it faculty or student, knew that Professor J'onzz did not care for other people. He was brisk, to be polite, with others. He outright disliked people to be more honest. So when he was confronted with those reporters, of course he would say something that would cause outrage.

The interview segment was playing on just about any news program. The University administrators had shut themselves into a meeting room and were no doubt discussing their response. The Church of H'ronmeer had just responded, calling out Professor J'onzz's interview and the connection he had made with the God of Light and Life.

How much K'ren wished the antisocial professor had just kept to himself like he usually did. This outburst of his would cause more trouble than it was worth.

The major news networks were going with the named H'ronmeer's Curse for this mysterious illness that was befalling people. She didn't know just how many people had fallen ill, but people talked. In fact, a couple people affiliated with the University had been infected and quarantined at the hospital that was the main facility for treating it. She hadn't heard if they were doing well or not, but she hoped for a recovery. Every night there was a new report on fatalities…

K'ren shook her head. She had a job to do and that was currently serving as the assistant to Professor Q'im'bly. It was a highly sought out position and she had been chosen from many applicants. Professor Q'im'bly was renowned in his field of genetic abnormalities. In fact, he was a leading figure in the field. He was quite well-liked by the university facility, though the student body complained that his subject matter was difficult. K'ren had felt that way once when she had been a student, but she came to realize that students typically complained about anything and everything that inconvenienced them. One aspect of her job was to run such interference for the professor, especially around testing periods.

Today had been relatively calm in spite of the uproar that Professor J'onzz had created. Professor Q'im'bly had been in his office since before she had arrived, and she had yet to be summoned by him. A couple of students had come by to speak with the professor, but upon being hailed, there had been no answer. She had told them to come back at another time. It was not uncommon for the professor to be so absorbed by his work that he did not respond.

A scheduled break was coming up for her soon. Usually she informed the professor so that he knew she would not be present should someone arrive and request his attention. He was usually accepting of this.

Seeing no reason to prolong it, K'ren stood up from her desk and called out to the professor. "Professor Q'im'bly, I'm going on break."

There was no response. If he was busy, there would be a delay and K'ren waited patiently. However, as seconds became a minute, she called out again. She received a similar response.

Now, it was rare that she had to call out more than twice. One time, Professor Q'im'bly had been so consumed by his research, he had blocked out any and all forms of communication. It had required her to enter his office and tell him face-to-face that he had a guest arriving for their appointment with him. Figuring that the professor was in such a state, K'ren left her seat at her desk and approached the ornate doors that separated his office from the little waiting room she presided over.

The door was unlocked and opened, sliding to one side. K'ren entered the office, seeing the familiar scene of a shrine to academic knowledge. Certifications were plastered on the wall, along with images of moments the professor had shared in. There was a desk, practically bare aside from a computer terminal and a computerized tablet for mobile use.

However, K'ren came to an abrupt stop. She saw Professor Q'im'bly almost immediately. He was leaning back in his seat, eyes glazed as they stared into the air. On his forehead, there appeared to be some sort of symbol there, burnt from its appearance. He was slumped in his chair, his head leaning back to reveal the gash across his throat. Blood stained his skin as it had poured out of the bodily injury. Streaks of red blood dripped down his chest and right arm.

All K'ren could do was scream.

Ma'alefa'ak's lab was becoming a familiar scene. J'onn had followed his brother here following his encounter with the press and university administration. They had been held up for quite some time as the university administrator tried to contain the pending aftermath.

It wasn't all that surprising to have witnessed his younger brother's outburst. Ma'alefa'ak had a short fuse when it came to others and if they had been trying to get a reaction, they got one. Naturally, it had to be highly contentious and problematic. J'onn could only imagine what fallout would come from this.

The Church would be upset. The University would be scrambling to either protect one of their own, or disown his brother's words. The media would do its best to keep both sides at odds to drum up attention for what was going on, as if a growing epidemic wasn't attention-getting enough. Government officials would be exasperated that there was a rather unflattering name for what was happening, which would send them into their own version of damage control. The public would become more unruly.

"I believe I've had my fill of social interaction, Brother," Ma'alefa'ak spoke to him once they were alone. "If you would be so kind as to leave, it would be greatly appreciated."

"We have a matter to discuss," J'onn replied.

"Which is why you are here, naturally. To what do I owe this visit, hmm? Has there been some advancement, some progress in this curse matter?" His tone was short and clipped, as if he did not care to have further discussion and was only humoring the older Martian.

"You should not have named this pathogen, Ma'alefa'ak," he reprimanded.

"Perhaps, but I am not one to hold my tongue should the occasion require it."

"All you have successfully done is rile up the public. You've drawn unwanted attention to yourself in the form of your administrators and soon the priesthood. I do not foresee good tidings coming to you."

"Your point?" Ma'alefa'ak actually turned to regard him, not the least bit intimidated by the prediction. "The priests are only upset that there is a challenge to their authority. They could care less what the pathogen is called, so long as it does not interfere with their arcane rituals. You have been in contact with them recently, so you should know as much the lengths they will go to fulfill those rituals."

"And naming a deadly pathogen after their god during one of the most important periods of the year for them will certainly draw their ire."

The educated Martian shrugged his shoulders. "What is the worst they can do? Call me a blasphemer? Attack my reputation? Ensure none of my research sees the light of day? I believe I can survive such attacks, my dear Brother."

"And if you make a breakthrough on this curse?" J'onn countered. "If the Church is successful in destroying your credibility, then whatever breakthrough you make will be considered hearsay. People may die because of it."

"And the people will have the Church to blame should that happen." Ma'alefa'ak turned away from him. "As unfortunate of a situation as it may be that people will die due to their interference, it will ultimately come to light that the Church was the reason that such an important advancement was ignored."

The older Martian could not help but sigh. There was a callousness his brother had that left him unsympathetic to the plight of others. His acceptance that people would die because he would become persona non grata was alarming, though unsurprising.

"Is this outlook of yours because they have interfered in the release of one of your research papers?" J'onn could not help but ask.

"I am not so petty that I would let a previous encounter interfere with current projects," his brother huffed. "I am merely pointing out the reality because of their past actions. It will not be long now that the Church takes to the media to discredit me and plead for their flock to continue performing their rites."

"That is the only paper of yours they have restricted, is that correct?" the Manhunter pressed. "You have no others that have been restricted?"

"That is the only one, yes."

"Do not lie to me, Ma'alefa'ak."

The younger Martian turned to face him again, a scowl on his face. "For what benefit would I receive for lying, b'larg?"

J'onn ignored the insult. Whenever his brother became annoyed with him, he would purposefully begin using names to infuriate him. There were quite a few more insulting ones from b'larg, and no doubt Ma'alefa'ak would use those as he became more worked up. So he decided to end this act of petulance.

"Then what about your paper on designed pathogens?"

"What of it?"

"Was that paper also given restricted access?"

"It was, but that was due to government interference."

"Because any casual reader could develop their own pathogen in light of it."

Ma'alefa'ak stared at him. "Are you saying my own research may be at the heart of this curse?"

"Not at this time, but it is rather telling that you have written that it is possible for someone to design their own pathogen."

The frayed lab coat Ma'alefa'ak wore seemed to ripple from a breeze, one that did not exist as no such breeze could blow through an enclosed room. The two Martians stared each other down, neither one backing down. J'onn looked down at his shorter sibling, who was looking up at him. There was a growing anger within his brother.

"What is it you want to say, qu'ifa?" Ma'alefa'ak pressed, another insult leaving his lips. "Go on, tell me."

J'onn's face hardened. "I want to know why, in all of our recent interactions, you did not mention this paper. In light of everything it is quite pertinent. The possibility that someone designed this pathogen has incredible significance."

Ma'alefa'ak seemed to relax. "Ah, so that is what you are saying. I did not think it was relevant until now. Do you believe that someone designed this pathogen?"

"Anything is possible," he declared.

"How droll. How did you even find out about that paper, if I may ask?"

"The doctor in charge of the hospital mentioned it."

"Oh-ho, so he knows of it. That confirms the first of two that have read it."

The muscle above one of J'onn's eyes raised up, the muscle above the opposite eye lowering in response. This caused one eye to appear smaller while the other widened. "Only two people have read this paper to your knowledge?"

"I was being facetious."

Before the two of them could continue, the door to Ma'alefa'ak slid open. The two Martians turned in time to see the university administrator from the courtyard come rushing in, a panicked look upon his face. "Officer!" he cried out.

On impulse, the red X of the Manhunter's formed over J'onn's chest. It was only then that he realized he had yet to restore his identification following the incident in the courtyard. "What is it?" he responded calmly, keeping to his voice rather than responding with telepathy.

This did not perturb the university professor as he declared, "You must come with me! Professor Q'im'bly is dead!"