As the electronic whistle signaled the start of the sparring match, Samuel immediately took a step back, activating Protect.

[Samuel used Protect!]

A faint, shimmering barrier flickered into existence around him. Black Canary's quick jab and sweeping low kick struck the shield harmlessly before fading into nothing.

Now, Samuel had a moment to think.

What should he do?

Will-O-Wisp? No. Even if he weakened her strength, he'd lose the moment he hit the ground.
Yawn? Also no. It took too long to take effect, and she only needed one moment to knock him down.
Agility, Rage, Tearful Look? Pointless. Even opponents much stronger and faster than her had lost already.
Metronome? Absolutely not. Not after he had literally exploded last time.

That left him with one option: lower her accuracy and hope for the best.

[Samuel used Sand Attack!]

A strange, almost holographic swirl of dust kicked up between them, aimed directly at Black Canary's face. As she blinked, briefly thrown off, Samuel scrambled backward, putting as much distance between them as possible.

From the sidelines, Robin let out a quiet chuckle. "So that's his plan? Just running?"

Black Canary lunged at him again, closing the gap in seconds. Samuel activated Protect once more.

[Samuel used Protect!]

Again, her strike was blocked by the translucent shield.

She pulled back slightly, tilting her head. "You're good at running. But without a way to fight back, this isn't going to go your way."

Samuel didn't answer. He was already thinking ahead.

Step two: Keep lowering accuracy.

He used Sand Attack again.

[Samuel used Sand Attack!]

Black Canary dodged—mostly. Some of the strange, shimmering dust still clouded her vision. She took another step forward and swung. This time, she missed entirely.

Samuel stayed on the move, avoiding her, putting up Protect whenever she got too close. He continued to use Sand Attack in small bursts, slowly throwing off her aim more and more.

Black Canary's frustration grew. This is more annoying than I expected…

She adjusted her stance, breathing in slowly, focusing through the interference. Then she moved. A strike—fast.

Samuel barely had time to react.

A sharp blow connected with his side, sending him staggering. He nearly collapsed, but somehow—somehow—he caught himself before hitting the floor.

That was too close.

At this point, Canary's vision was unreliable. She was striking more by instinct than precision, her hits becoming less coordinated. Kid Flash groaned from the sidelines.

"Boo! This fight is so boring!"

Samuel ignored him. Now was the time.

He used Yawn.

[Samuel used Yawn!]

A soft, almost imperceptible wave spread from him toward Black Canary. She blinked, her body reacting sluggishly—

Then she screamed.

Not at full power, but loud enough to disorient him. Samuel's vision blurred, his balance wavered, and—

He hit the floor.

Defeat.

Black Canary exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "You still put up a good fight." She paused. "You have a… unique style."

Samuel pushed himself up onto one elbow. "Does this mean I don't need personal training?"

She smirked. "Yes."

Satisfied, Samuel stayed on the ground for a moment, letting the match officially end.

But then—

Black Canary swayed.

And then—

She collapsed, asleep.

The Yawn had finally taken effect.

[Samuel won the battle!
Samuel leveled up!
Samuel learned Mean Look!]

Samuel glanced at his status screen, unimpressed. Mean Look? Another interesting move, sure, but right now, he wished he had something simple—something that would just raise his defense or make him take less damage. Anyway, he was surprised that this counted as a win.

Before he could think further, the others were already scrambling to wake Black Canary up. She didn't, so Martian Manhunter laid her on a nearby seat.

Then, the holographic display flickered on.

Batman appeared on the screen.

"Batman to Cave. Five hours ago, a new menace attacked Green Arrow and Black Canary. The attacker was capable of studying and then duplicating the powers and abilities of its opponents. Arrow called in reinforcements, which nearly proved disastrous, as our foe gained more and more power with each new combatant."

The team tensed. Even Robin, usually quick with a quip, stayed silent.

Samuel, on the other hand, exhaled quietly. He could already feel that this was going to be a mission.

Batman continued. "In the end, it took eight Leaguers four hours to defeat and dismantle the android."

A collective breath of relief swept through the team. Even Superboy's perpetual scowl eased slightly.

Samuel sighed—harder this time.

"So someone built a machine that can copy superpowers... and used it to challenge vigilantes?" he muttered, rubbing his temple. The more I know, the more absurd this place gets.

But while Samuel found the entire situation baffling, the rest of the team seemed more concerned about who was behind it.

Robin leaned forward. "Android? Who made it? T.O. Morrow?"

"Good guess, Robin, but Red Tornado disagrees," Batman replied.

"The technology bears the signature of Professor Ivo," Martian Manhunter added.

"Ivo? But Ivo is dead," Aqualad said, clearly confused.

Samuel was even more confused. He had no idea who this Ivo person was, but whoever they were, they must've been incredibly flawed.

A machine that could perfectly copy metahuman abilities, and this was how it was being used? Not to revolutionize medicine, industry, or the world itself—but to pick fights with masked crimefighters? Even in Samuel's otherwise unwavering mind, that kind of wasted potential was enough to cause a ripple.

Batman continued, unfazed. "To ensure this threat is permanently neutralized, we're sending two trucks carrying the android's parts to separate S.T.A.R. Labs facilities in Boston and New York for immediate evaluation. Every precaution is being taken. Four additional decoy trucks will create confusion in case Ivo—or anyone else—tries to recover the remains. You will split into undercover teams to safeguard the two real trucks."

Then, Batman's gaze settled on Samuel.

"And Samuel—"

Samuel remained silent.

"You will not be joining this mission. You are currently not trained to drive a motorcycle."

A beat of silence.

Then, ever so subtly—almost imperceptibly—Samuel's expression changed. His movements became just a fraction lighter. There was a near-microscopic shift in his posture.

Superboy noticed.

Samuel was… happy? When he just heard that he was...too weak for the mission?

Superboy couldn't quite place why, but he felt it. And that irritated him.

The others left to prepare for the mission, while Martian Manhunter carried the still-sleeping Black Canary out of the room. Samuel, meanwhile, turned toward the hallway leading to his room.

And then—

"…You."

Samuel stopped.

Superboy was standing behind him. His arms crossed, his expression unreadable—but there was something heavy in his voice.

Samuel turned slightly, his gaze steady.

Superboy's eyes narrowed. "…Why are you even here?"

Samuel turned, his expression unreadable as always. "...What?"

Superboy's arms stayed crossed, his jaw tight. "You don't care about any of this, do you?"

Samuel blinked, then turned back toward his room. "Correct."

Superboy's fingers twitched. His anger flared hotter. "Then why are you here?"

Samuel kept walking. "Ask Batman."

Superboy stepped in front of him, blocking his way. "No. I'm asking you."

Samuel stared at him for a moment, then let out a quiet breath. "I exist here. That's all."

Superboy clenched his fists. "That's not all. You fight. You help. But then you turn your back and act like none of it matters." His voice was low, sharp. "You think you're better than the rest of us? Too good to call yourself a hero?"

Samuel's gaze didn't waver. "No. I just don't need to call myself one."

Superboy's glare hardened. "That's a lie. You're scared."

Samuel tilted his head slightly, the closest thing to curiosity he'd shown. "Of what?"

"Of taking responsibility," Superboy snapped. "You play like you're not part of this, but when things go wrong, you're always there. You're always watching. Always interfering just enough to fix things—but never enough to call it your problem." His fists tightened. "You want all the control, but none of the consequences."

Samuel's eye twitched, barely noticeable. "You're projecting."

Superboy stepped closer. "Am I?"

Samuel sighed. "Yes. You're the one struggling with what you are, and what you want to be. You want to be a hero, but you hate how you were made to be one...A clone of the greatest hero... but just so much weaker. So you lash out. At the team. At Superman. At me." He glanced at Superboy's clenched fists. "Because I remind you of everything you don't understand about yourself. I don't want to be someone else. I don't want to be a hero. I don't deem myself as a weapon...Unlike you."

Superboy's breath was heavy. His nails dug into his palms. "At least I admit I want to be something."

Samuel finally met his gaze directly. "And?"

Superboy's scowl deepened. "And you don't even try to be anything."

Silence.

Samuel could have walked away. He wanted to. But instead, he simply responded—flat, matter-of-fact:

"…I don't need to."

Superboy let out a frustrated breath and stepped aside, turning his back to him. "One day, you're gonna have to pick a side."

Samuel didn't answer. He just kept walking.

And with that, the conversation ended.

Superboy thought about what Samuel said. His cold, piercing words...only grew his anger. He slammed the wall and went to prepare his mission.

On the other hand, Samuel didn't waste another second thinking about Superboy's words. He simply walked away, heading straight to his room.

Finally.

Alone.

He prepared a simple aglio e olio, the aroma of garlic and olive oil filling the empty cave. After eating, he sat in silence, enjoying the rare moment of solitude. No voices in his earpiece. No missions. No team. No one to bother him. It was the closest thing to peace he could get. Although his real home was gone, this was similar to how he lived for the past couple of years. He wrote some reports, fiddled with the status screen, and spent some time.

But then, he remembered.

He had left one of his books at Gotham Academy.

With a quiet sigh, he stood up, grabbed his coat, and headed out. And within a flash of a Zeta Tube, Samuel arrived in Gotham in a second.


Meanwhile, things were already going wrong for the team.

Robin frowned at the glowing map in front of him. The stolen android parts—pieces of a machine capable of copying superpowers—had been taken by Professor Ivo and his mechanical monkey drones.

And only Superboy was currently fighting him.

Kid Flash skidded to a run beside Robin on his motorcycle. He wasn't originally assigned with Robin's team, but Aqualad had redirected him since he was the fastest—tracking Ivo was now a priority.

"Still tracking the parts?" Kid Flash asked, pulling off his helmet.

Robin's fingers danced over his holographic display, eyes narrowing. "They were heading through Gotham. But then they veered… Wait." His expression tensed.

Kid Flash leaned in. "What?"

Robin exhaled sharply.

"Dude… they're at my school. Gotham Academy."