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Γ-5 : Harboring Secrets

Γ-5 : Harboring Secrets

"Living easy comes from knowing exactly what’s coming long before it arrives, and twisting it to your favor.”

Those were the words Wayne wished to impart upon his poorly masked peer in the restaurant that day. Simply, cryptic advice. Meant mainly to taunt than to teach, yet still answered more questions than the girl had even asked. He knew Alice’s type: the teacher’s pet with a rattle tail. Sweet when there was benefit, venomous at all other points. She’d been staring daggers at him ever since they met. It was impossible to miss, even for him. So why not egg her on a little? For fun.

To his dismay, luck was more interested in other time investments. The timing of his phone notification made the course of his day all too clear. He pulled out the device to read the message. Given the news the group had just discussed, it was clearly some humorous fate at work. A text from his contact “Planet Boy”, which read: Thanks for tip! Investigating now. Big help!

Confirmation. Just as expected, events were transpiring precisely to the tune of his memory. He needed to leave. To get to the harbor. To meet with his contact. And to have a small reunion with Kara. As a bonus.

Without another word to the others, Wayne left the table. There was a split second of stressful anticipation within the server’s reaction as he approached. Wayne soothed this dread upon stating his intent to pay for the table’s meal. In full. This matter was too pressing to allow more delay to. And to make up for his urgency, he was sure to leave a healthy tip.

Cash was given, and Wayne was out. It took a moment to regain his bearings. Just a moment. As soon as he identified which way was East, he knew right where to go. Across the street, left to the second corner, take that right, and just keep going. Given how recent the text was, it was safe to assume they were either on their way, or about to set events into motion. Wayne prayed it wasn’t the latter. Much as it would be fun to interrupt climactic events, he didn’t want to miss the major revelation.

As Wayne hurried along, it became painfully clear that he was being tailed. Random thugs? Not likely, given his rapidity. Simple muggers aim for easy targets, not the strangely dressed and oddly accelerated.

Such was the point of allowing himself this walking speed - or the appearance thereof. In truth, it was akin to skating along the pavement. Like sliding on polished wood with only socks on. His shoes only skimmed the surface beneath them, but he maintained the movement of normal footsteps. He propelled forward just enough to appear to be jogging strangely. Just enough to give his pursuers agony. It was still too soon to take things further, or so he told himself.

After all, the eyes of Metropolis were everywhere. Much as they oft turned away from scheming hands in back alleyways, they were ever vigilant of new metahuman activity. Anything and anyone that displayed an ability outside the norm would find themselves with more attention than they could handle quickly – and not just from paparazzi.

Wayne always found that part odd. The paradoxical nature of both villainy and heroism in this world was always at odds, yet by simply being, the other must also rise to meet its opposite. Every new hero brought new villains. So too was the inverse a frequent state of being. But why? Was it pure reaction? A hero born from a villain’s transgressions, who too was created by the mistakes of another hero? How far must such a chain span to reach its beginnings? What would it take to reach its end?

Much more than it took to reach the end of this train of thought, as it was stifled upon Wayne’s realization that he was at the pier. And right outside his end destination, Warehouse 800. It was as unassuming a building as a warehouse could be. No distinct markings besides the address numerals affixed above the garage door. A simple, untagged dumpster out front which sat a little askew from the wall. Blue paint flaking off of the front door, only a few years into its rusting deterioration.

But more importantly: no signs of activity. It was difficult to discern over the several yards between the alley Wayne skulked within and the target building, but his emotional sense could still faintly gauge those within. A dull tingle. Nothing significant, certainly nothing that would benefit himself. Very little repression of feelings between those inside. I must be too early–

A spark from behind, too sudden to react to. Wayne attempted to whirl himself around, only to be met with a forearm to the sternum and a collision with the shaded concrete below. His eyes shut on reflex. His neck lurched forward and locked as best it could to limit the recoil of his head against the hardness of the ground. Just a minor bump, but a fair bit of pain shot through his skull regardless. A pair of thin legs restrained his own, weighing down onto his pelvic joints. Before he could process who had jumped him, he got the answer from voice he knew well.

“Shoulda’ known a punk like you’d be involved!” growled a furious Kara as Wayne opened his eyes again. She wore the same outfit as their first meeting, though notably lacking the brown wig and fake glasses. Instead, her ash blonde hair flowed neatly down around her heart-shaped face, only a few inches from tracing Wayne’s own with the ends of each strand. A thin, black hairband was just barely visible from behind the tops of her ears. This was the true face of the Supergirl.

“Good to- Urk- To see you, too, princess”, Wayne shot back, straining to get his breath out. He was full smirk, even while wincing under the blonde’s weight. Kara scowled harder, feeling herself growing a distaste for his go-to expression.

“Karen, wait!”

Another voice, that of a boy with tenor vocal range, rounded the nearby corner with hurried steps. His red hair and freckled face knelt into Wayne’s view as the older teen tried to soothe the situation. “You can’t just tackle the first guy you see! He doesn’t even look like one of them!”

“This guy could easily be a lookout or something”, argued the girl.

“Thanks for the assist, Jimmy”, Wayne wheezed out, eliciting surprise from both of them.

“Wait, are you-”, the ginger questioned.

“Your contact, ‘Not-Bruce’, yes.”

Jimmy processed this reveal, piecing together Wayne’s own identity in his head. Kara – or in this case, “Karen” – had instead been sidetracked with the humor of Wayne’s pseudonym, mouthing it out in silence before holding in a snort.

“Glad you fo- Cough- found it funny, but… C-can you get off me already?”

Still withholding laughter, the girl agreed with a hop to her feet. Wayne made an attempt to lift himself off the ground, only to find himself yet again in the clutches of Karen. With a hand tightly balled around the center of his turtleneck, Wayne is hoisted up with a single arm and pinned to the nearby wall instead. With another grunt from the sudden repositioning, Wayne’s smirk fades into a faint frown of annoyance.

“Well… Guess it’s better than the ground”, Wayne remarked.

“I can put you back down there, if you really want”, Karen threatened with a smirk of her own.

“Not really into choking, but thanks for the offer.”

Karen’s face returned to a disgusted frown. A shame. Wayne thought it was a solid comeback.

Finally, Jimmy interjected once again, holding back his surprise at the girl’s show of strength. “Alright, easy! Easy! He’s the guy who tipped me off to this whole thing, Karen! I dunno’ what beef you two have, but can we save it until after the investigation?”

‘Karen’ looked to the blue eyed boy with visible apprehension.

“Please?” pleaded the boy.

“Ugh, fine…”

The girl’s fist abruptly unfurled, freeing Wayne from the sting of the coarse wall texture on his back. With a nod of thanks towards Jimmy, and an affirming nod back, the three turned their attention back to the warehouses.

“So this is definitely it then?” Jimmy asked, noting his contact’s presence at his own destination.

Wayne gave a wordless thumbs up. Karen made her deep skepticism known.

“And how exactly did you find this out, huh?”

The smirk returned. She already regretted asking.

“You really wanna’ ask me that, uh… ‘Karen’, was it?” The air quotes gesturing towards Kara’s own false name confused Jimmy further. The girl buried a snide response behind the increased furrow of her brow.

“Thought not. ”

“OKAY, okay! No more fighting, guys!” Jimmy demanded, trying not to raise his voice too loud as he glanced about. “Let’s focus, a’right? Uh, ‘Not-Bruce’?”

“Wayne”, corrected the curly haired boy.

“Ah, okay; Wayne... Oh, I just got that. Ha! But yeah; Seen any activity yet?”

He shook his head in decline. “Nah. Should see some people entering soon, though. Just need to keep a close—”

Right on cue, a pair of teens clad in blue and black jumpsuits entered the view of the warehouse from the left. The trio shrunk to their knees on instinct, hugging the alley wall as they observed the two. Their uniforms made it all too clear that they were Intergang, and seemingly doubted any trouble would befall them for parading the fact.

“Pretty cocky to wear that in broad daylight”, commented Kara.

“They must have a tight grip on the area”, Jimmy contemplated.

Just didn’t mattered for the plot, Wayne thought with a twitch of his right brow.

The observed pair continue towards the garage door, never the wiser to the scrutiny they were under. The critical moment came. One of the two reached out towards the small, circular knob on the garage’s face—

“Ugh, I still just don’t get why you’re even here”, blurted Karen in frustration. Jimmy and Wayne both turned to face her with similar intentions.

“Can we save that for later?” requested Jimmy with urgency.

“For real”, Wayne added. “Picked the worst time to worry about this.”

Karen was undeterred. “What other time is there? The second this wraps up, I just know you’ll slink into some shadow and be on your way!”

Wayne, to his credit, couldn’t deny this. “… Fine, I’ll bite. Let’s just say that, in spite of my personal interests, I can’t let this particular matter sit as is. Call it insurance for the company, blame Lex; I don’t care.”

There remained a large sum of doubt in the girl’s expression, but she remained receptive to Wayne’s statements in spite of this. Jimmy’s journalistic intrigue, on the other hand, was itching at these implication. “Woah-woah-woah; So Lex is wrapped up in this too!?”

Wayne managed to choke back a groan as his eyes flickered. “No. This is purely on me. It’s to keep my interests there intact. Got a lot at stake that Intergang’s nonsense might screw up, so I’m intervening directly. Just this once.”

“Like what?” Karen demanded.

“Like—”

The answer was cut off by the sound of the garage slamming back against the pavement. All three shot their attention back towards their objective. They’d missed their window. Wayne muttered an expletive as a spark of red flitted through his iris.

“Aw man!” Jimmy whined in tandem. “Now what do we do?”

“We could always do this the fun way”, Karen suggested, a punch to her own palm illustrating just what “fun” meant in this case. Wayne made a point of his vacant stare.

“I-… No. No. We’re not doing that. It’d be a waste of my coming.”

The tan boy looked over the scene again, thoroughly. His head hummed with electrostatic contemplation. The front door was, with little argument, not an option. Things would play out just as they were supposed to, and that was the very reason he was here. Side door wasn’t much better – in fact, it was worse. They’d have to sneak in somehow, but the roof would be conspicuous for… Other reasons. They’d have to make their own, silent entry point.

This was a problem. Looking to the more-than-human girl, Wayne knew she was perfectly capable of making the portal, but doing so silently seemed unlikely. She had her own identity to save as well – not that she would hold onto that part for long, as he was well aware.

Conversely, Jimmy was just human. Plain and simple. There was nothing hidden in his brown leather jacket, no super-tech in his baggy jean pockets, and the older boy certainly wasn’t martially skilled. He was the gallant in grief. Another object of rescue for those supers he made company with. Simply said: He was of no use.

With a heavy sigh, the teen conceded to his fate. Pressing down his dismay, eyes regaining their silvery light, he motioned for the two to follow him towards the warehouse with caution. He would do it himself.

His instructions were concise: they would keep watch around the corner, and were not to look his way. Karen attempted to protest, but the out-of-place intensity quelled the complaint. Clicking her tongue, she stomped round the corner as told and crossed her arms in a huff. Jimmy followed, doing his best to keep the peace while following orders. Lucky for them, as Wayne was well aware, no one else would be coming at this time.

A deep breath. A kneel to one knee. This needed to be quick, lest curious eyes begin to wander. ‘Karen’, for certain, would try to peek if she thought she had the chance. Wayne balled his left fist and pressed it knuckles-down against where pavement met wall. He began to concentrate. He let all his buried thoughts rush forth. The smile-devoid joy, the tearless sorrow, the silent rage, and so much more. The tingle returned and flowed from his extremities into his arm, and down around the first joint of his middle finger. It shimmered cinereous.

The sensation sparked once, twice, then pierced through concrete and steel. It needed to be small; Small enough to stay silent, but powerful enough to keep cutting the half-moon shape Wayne traced out. The movement was slow. Patient. Methodical. It had to be. Noise would set off events as normal – as intended. Just this once, that wouldn’t be allowed.

Another tingle. Different this time. A voyeur.

“Still clear?” Wayne asked in a hush, intent on provoking focus from the girl attempting to watch through the solid walls.

He heard a flustered huff, followed by a less-than-contented, “Yeah, uh… All clear here. Will you hurry it up, guy?”

Wayne gave no answer, redoubling his focus to his primary task. The hole was almost finished. A few more seconds and pulses to slide the otherwise dense chunk deep enough into the room for safe entry. The boy gave a cursory glance inside to make sure they were out of sight. Piled up wooden crates blocked all view from where a deep voice barked orders in the distance.

Wayne slipped back out and poked his head around the corner. “Done, but stay quiet.”

“Finally”, Karen muttered, hurrying around to see whatever was so secretive. She was, admittedly, not expecting to see a cleanly sliced hole in the wall with the cutout already moved. Maybe humans could be stronger than she had been led to believe?

No, this had to be some weirdo trick Wayne had up his sleeve. Of this, the girl was certain.

Jimmy was equally stunned at the neatly formed infiltration point, but was more willing to hand an explanation over. “Woah! You brought some gear for Lex’s labs for this?”

Wayne smirked once more. “Sure. Something like that.”

Elaborating no further than a pat against his blazer’s chest, Wayne took point as the three entered the shadows within the warehouse. ‘Karen’ followed close behind, with Jimmy at the rear – for his own safety, though he didn’t know it.

The interior was as spacious as one might expect. Steel beams propped up the high ceiling, stretching several yards in all directions. Most of the area was unlit and dim, making the furthest edges of the room perfect for sneaking. The air held a strange mixture of sea salt, dust, rust, and ozone. The latter smell stood out. Wayne had always wondered if portal based travel had an accompanying smell, so perhaps this was his answer?

The warehouse, as previously noted, also contained an assortment of crates, most of which were large enough to use for cover. The trio did just that, sneaking along the sides of a long row of such boxes until reaching a gap. They all took positions to look through this sliver of empty space, one head above the other. The sights stirred Karen and Jimmy’s fears.

“No, no, NO!” shouted a deep voice walking towards the center of the room. A heavily wrinkled, broad-set woman paced across the spotlit portion of floor. An orange cape fluttered behind her green and black attire, which itself was hard to describe beyond the term “spacewear”. Her general color scheme made the bright blue of her pelvic covering – the tried and true super-undies – stick out like a sore thumb. One hand was behind her back, balled into a loose fist. The other clutched a brassy, silver ringed scepter which tapped against her shoulder as she went. It looked to be an advanced device, but its origins were undoubtedly alien.

A row of assorted teens, all in their blue and black head-to-toe jumpsuits, shrunk their heads down as they stood at attention to the speaker. The barely withheld fear oozed from each of them. Their rigid stares into the empty air told of shattered aspirations, broken homes, and frightfully stern indoctrination.

“Children, you know Granny hates repeating herself… So you tell me–” The crone stopped in front of a darker skinned boy, who clearly feared whatever fate awaited him. She put a long, black nailed finger beneath his chin to force his head level with her own as she bent towards him. “What were you told to retrieve?”

“A-a-a neo-… Neodysium magnet?” stuttered the poor boy.

“NEO-DYM-IUM! It’s neodymium, boy!” The teen flinched harder as his ear was shouted into. He tried his best to hide his own trembling. The woman – this “Granny” – gave a heavy sigh, pressing two fingers against the ridge of her thick nose. “Hardly a wonder that you screwed this up if you can’t even pronounce it…”

Granny thought to herself in pause. She looked back over the fearful youths, contemplating their fates. Mistakes must be corrected – there was no room for exceptions to this in Granny’s world. But the old bag wasn’t without a heart. These poor, pathetic, witless urchins could only be so accountable for their world’s simplicity. Granny knew that well.

“Hmm… Tell you what: Since dear, old Granny Goodness knows you each did your very best – bless your little hearts – a little mercy may be in order….”

The children immediately perked up at the sound of the M word. They each stood a little taller, trying and failing to contain their grins. Granny sneered in turn, enjoying how easily a little sugarcoating roused their spirits.

What came next was a shock to everyone. Without another word, the old woman spun on a heel, bringing clenched knuckles against the lackey’s soft jaw in an instant. The boy was thrown back several feet, disoriented and bleeding from a newly busted lip. But that wasn’t enough for Granny. No; she felt it important to emphasize her displeasure with an iron heel, which now stomped into her disciple repeatedly. He didn’t resist much. Laying down to take it was the smarter move.

The other gang members did nothing to help the poor kid, fear for their own health taking priority over camaraderie. This was the norm for this pitiful mob. Wayne could tell by the depths of their suppression.

“What a monster”, Jimmy whispered in horror. A hand with curled and splayed fingers hovered just before his agape mouth.

“Could be worse”, comforted Wayne flatly. “She could’ve killed ‘em, outright.”

Karen shot the boy a look, but didn’t hold it long. Her growing fury was aimed squarely towards the hag responsible. She took a bold step forwards, her head down and arms bowed up with intent. “Oh, I’ll show her worse, alright.”

With urgency, Wayne snatched the girl by the wrist and gave a tug. Karen’s glare snapped back towards him as indignation began to bubble to the surface. “What’s your problem? We’ve gotta’ stop this!”

“Agreed”, Wayne hushed, eyes darting back to the sliver the three were watching through. The Granny had called forward a new set of teens, and seemed much more pleased with their work – and blatant fear. The spies were in the clear. “But there’s an order to things. First, we need that scepter. And getting these kids to turncoat for us wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Wrenching her arm away, Karen gave a low huff. Her posture went neutral once more, though the anger on her face was still plain to see. “So how do you plan to make all that happen, o’ wise and all knowing one?”

Wayne was more amused by the girl’s frustration than insulted by her chastising. However, he only really had a plan to solve one problem or the other. His lack of response told Karen plenty, and a satisfied smugness washed over her as she grinned accordingly.

Before she managed to fire off a comment, it seemed that Jimmy had taken the question quite seriously. “What if someone runs distraction while another sneaks up on her? We could—”

“On it”, Karen said, resuming her aggressive entrance once more. That was all the scheming she needed.

Jimmy stumbled out behind her, failing to stop her and finish his plan before both had rounded the edge of the last crate. In her war march, the girl had failed to guide a foot around the corner properly. The accidental kick cracked a decent chunk of wood off, sending a splintered pyramid clattering along the ground. They were met by a spotlight, and the prompt draw of all attention their way - Granny’s especially.

From behind, a nasally and gruff voice ordered, “Don’t. Even. Blink.”

While those two were tossed before the old woman and her horde for questioning, Wayne had slipped back into the shadows of the warehouse. As soon as Karen had taken that first step, he could smell the fast approaching blunder of a timeline seeking to amend itself. This turn of events was, so it seemed, inevitable. For the moment, that was fine. It left Wayne to fix the major concerns.

He listened as Jimmy, in quick thought, employed the same lines that Wayne had come to know. The ones from those cartoons that flooded his dreams. From that all too distant other life. A feign inquiry by him and his “chick” towards joining their illegal efforts. Granny, of course, responded with her own monologue about “saving” kids with nowhere else to turn. Line for line, it was “Little Girl Lost”.

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In similar fashion, a fight broke out at the behest of the old woman. An impending threat prompted Karen to challenge the her, and the elder responded accordingly. This was nearing worst-case scenario for Wayne. He’d managed to sneak his way to the far wall opposite the crates they had hidden behind prior, but the cronies being flung this way and that were jeopardizing his natural stealth. The teen really, really did not want to use any more of his tricks so soon. A trio of tossed-off goons crashing against the walls around him insisted otherwise.

Each of the three struggled to lift their heads from the cold concrete. With headshakes and groans, they looked up to comprehend how such a dainty looking girl could hide so much might. They found their answer, watching from afar to see “Karen” rip off her battered disguise to reveal her true identity: with the tell-tale S wrapped in a pentagon, this truly was a Supergirl.

They thought this might be some strange nightmare. As two looked to one another, their vision warped and warbled slightly in the space between. The damage they’d taken must have been worse than they feared. Better to slink away from the fight now. Escape out the back door and pretend this never happened. They tried to convince the third of them to join, but they were too ensnared by their own pain-induced anger to agree. No, this lone soldier would aim for an easier target: The redhead watching on in the back. The other two just left them to their revenge. The fight was already above their pay grade, and so they bailed as planned. A few seconds later, the distorted space beside the wall faded back into Wayne’s opaque form as he sighed in relief.

Time was now of the essence. Wayne knew full well that Kara – or rather, Supergirl – could hold her own for a bit. But Jimmy was less tenable. At least it’s a clear deviation, Wayne considered as he turned his attentions to the wall behind him. He pressed his left hand flat against it. The same flow of constrained emotions flowed from his outstretched arm into the wall once more. The obstruction is back on track, at least.

The shift in the battle could be heard plainly from over the boy’s shoulder. The older teen being caught in the crossfire was a clear distraction for Supergirl, who’d lost focus in her face-off with the self-announced Granny Goodness. Things were tilting to the favor of the old alien, who’d managed to get a few solid kicks and scepter blasts in against the girl.

Jimmy had been thoroughly roughed up in the meanwhile, with two grunts propping him up by the arms while another added an occasional wallop to him whenever his would-be-protector attempted to resist their boss’s beatdown. Kara was getting desperate. Angry. Fearful. Granny, on the otherhand, approached the prone heroine with malicious hubris.

“Let this be a lesson to brats like you”, Granny Goodness jeered, looming over the nigh-defeated girl. “Never talk back to your dear. Old. Granny!”

The woman triumphantly raised her scepter up over her head. Her thumb pressed in a switch, prompting energy to flow into the tip and radiate outward in a sinister violet ball. Her toothy sneer wrinkled her already shriveled face to a disgusting degree, highlighting just how old the immortal hag truly was.

Then, a dark hand slowly hovered over Granny’s shoulder from behind. There was a thought – a command. Then a silver flash. Supergirl saw it plainly, though it remained invisible to the rest of the room; Thread-like chains stretching down from that tan hand and sewing into the elderly body beneath. All in cinereous grey. They faded in an instant, and in the next–

SWISH.

Kara flinched as Granny Goodness brought the full force of her arm down towards her head. The old woman’s victorious grin snapped to disbelief as she saw the damage: nothing. Looking at her striking hand, she found empty space where her scepter should have occupied. Kara, too, sat stunned by the stroke of luck. Both turned their attentions to the figure standing behind Granny. Both felt their stomachs clench in dismay.

“Dropped somethin’ there, Gam-gam”, gloated the ever-lax Wayne. The missing weapon rested firmly within the boy’s clenched fingers. His smirk goaded retaliation that the woman could no longer dish out.

Taking a step back, Granny Goodness felt the tables turning around her. The teens keeping hold of Jimmy now reconsidered their hostage taking, scattering as the blonde shot a glare back their way. Supergirl, no longer on the defensive, lifted off the floor to hover just a head taller than her opponent. Granny snapped her attention back to the girl she had been walloping only moments ago. Fear began to bleed out through cold sweating as she fumbled to find the words for rebuttal.

“I- You- When did- My-”, she clamoured, thinking frantically on how to regain the advantage. “CHILDREN! Reclaim Granny’s weapon!”

Several Intergang members exchanged looks with one another. Sure, they wouldn’t have to fight against the debut Argoan, but there was something to be said for him having hold of that scepter. While a few steeled their resolves to fight the good fight, many more inched back from growing doubts. Perfect.

Aiming the scepter towards the wall he had snuck around to before, Wayne cocked his head back to leer at Granny down his nose. “Much as I’d love to see them try, I think I’ve got a far better argument.”

By the time she had put two and two together, it was too late. Granny cried out as Wayne’s thumb pressed down on the same button he’d watched the woman press earlier. Another violet beam fired out towards the wall to their right – the wall separating this warehouse and the next. It ripped into the concrete, soaking into a freshly laid web of fractures running throughout – the ground work Wayne had laid out for this very moment. As fragment after chunk after pebble tumbled down, and the thin flume of dust swept past, all eyes widened to witness what secret laid beyond.

A room filled to the brim with complex machinery was revealed. Much of it looked to be standard or slightly modified dock equipment. But the main showcase sat towards the back of the room: A large, copper structure standing almost as tall as the ceiling. It seemed to be angled towards the sky, much like a telescope. But given the peculiarity of the devices ending pieces, its intent was likely far more sinister. This truth was reflected by the exchange of metal plates that made up the ceiling for two large, glass panes. The device pointed towards the darkening sky with voiceless malintent.

“Funny lookin’ telescope you got, Granny”, Wayne egged further. He tapped the scepter against his own shoulder, watching how his adversary’s face twisted from one emotion to the next. “Care to enlighten the class on your little science project?”

The woman considered her options. She looked from the large device to her murmuring underlings. They were confused and fearful, but ultimately ignorant of such advanced technology. With a recomposed clearing of the throat, Granny Goodness made her appeal.

“W-why, it’s clearly a weapon. How else are we to gain the proper respect we’re owed by all the high-seated big-wigs in this miserable city?”

The teens under her dominion seemed to rally from this explicitly vague misdirection. Granny smiled with arrogance at the sound of Intergang’s affirming chorus. There were a few whom still held suspicions high, but they opted to remain silent in the face of their more numerous company. Granny Goodness held no fear for their betrayal.

Wayne fired another beam. This one, aimed squarely at the foreign weapon, was held much longer in order to pierce what defenses the teen assumed would be present. To dash his own expectations, the force field he had expected to encounter was disrupted in a matter of seconds. The laser even managed to blast off a small bit of the exterior casing, leaving the mechanisms inside exposed and discharging. A small chain reaction followed, as other portions soon smoked and crackled until finally even the countdown dial at its base had shattered and failed. Wayne blinked in disbelief at the ease at which this event had been foiled. It was all… Too easy.

Granny shouted in vain, too late to stop the assault on her machine. Supergirl had no intentions of letting her try, having snatched the woman’s cape firmly to leash her in place. With the fruits of her labor now marred and in flames, she switched gears as a hand slipped behind her back, obscured by her long cape.

That particular movement drew Wayne’s eye. There was no way it wouldn’t. He had been waiting to confirm the presence of her final trick: the one the had motivated his intervention in the first place. Granny was gearing up to summon her Furies. To open a boom tube to Apocalypse. And in doing so, seal the fate of the this city and it’s leading man.

Wayne couldn’t have that.

He glanced away from the sneaking hand to check on his allies. To his chagrin, both were too fixated on to take note of their adversary’s blatant movements – though it seems Jimmy had managed to bring himself within Supergirl’s range of protection. It was a small improvement to things.

This left the boy with one option. One chance. He would reveal but one more ace from his sleeve, and he would have to make it count. Eyes locked back with the elder, Wayne mocked her body language with mimicry. His left hand moved similarly behind his back. Head held high, looking down his nose with a sneer of his own, he taunted, “Try explaining that… To him.”

From these words, Kara snapped her attention back to Wayne as Granny’s face shifted to confusion. She saw it just as plainly as the trick from moments ago. A sort of ping – soundless, unshaking, and nigh invisible – shot out in a room-sweeping ring from behind the boy’s back. It spread out from its epicenter run through the walls and floor, traveling in short order towards the giant sliding door of the main entrance. Kara watching this wave as it shrank inwards into a single, dissipating point. And when it had fizzled out, the metal door beneath it rang out with a booming WHUMP.

This surprised the supergirl, but not as much as it did their foes. The entirety of Intergang and Ms. Goodness, herself, snapped their awares to the sound emanating from the solid steel entrance. As of yet, few titans roamed the cityscape of Metropolis. Their thoughts all shifted to the looming threat of the male counterpart to the flying girl in their midst. And that was the exact distraction Wayne was banking on.

The opportunity was now or never. No movement was wasted, nor could Wayne afford them to. His right arm swung the captured scepter down. He took aim at the small of the old woman’s back as her cape fluttered from her own sudden movement. It drifted sluggishly, only revealing a glimpse of the target of Wayne’s ire: a small, silver rectangle of strange design – Granny Goodness’ personal Motherbox. He only needed to know where to point. This was enough. His thumb came down upon the beam trigger once more. The purple light erupted from the scepter once again.

With another loud burst, the device burst into a spray of bolts, wires, and sparks. The beam continued on, forcing Granny to face-plant the spotlit concrete below her feet. The gang members looked back at the sound of the impact, eyes agape at this unexpected subterfuge. Jimmy and Supergirl were equally appalled, but felt a strange expectation towards their companion’s deceptive antic. Lifting herself up in a huff, the woman whirled back towards Wayne while reaching to her back once again and shouting, “NAUGHTY MONK-”

Her words suddenly caught in her throat. As the hand fumbled around the space once occupied by the motherbox, the epiphany of what had been done set in. Her eyes turned to the ground, staring horrified at the damaged remains cluttering where she once stood.

“No… No, no, NO”, Granny bellowed, scooping the scraps into her well-worn hands. “My motherbox… Master’s plan…! How…?”

“Master?” echoed an intrigued Jimmy. The M-word spark another round of murmuring from the Intergang teens. Granny Goodness was too lost in her personal distress to provide rebuttal or explanation. Wayne was happy to pick up the slack.

“She’s an agent of Darkseid”, he announced plainly. The room fell silent in that moment, save for Supergirl, who looked around in search of further explanation.

“Okay? Well, who’s Darkseid?”

“Major baddie”, Jimmy responded. “He’s like evil incarnate – and he hates Superman.”

The gravity of this whole operation was starting to click for those in the know. Granny was slowly building up her fury. Wayne could see this wasn’t yet over. He needed to proceed with securing that rebellion. His chance was handed to him by a question from one of the gang members – the girl directly involved in the tech convention heist, no less.

“So… If you knew Granny worked for Darkseid, do you also know what that big device does?” There was trepidation in her tone. Fear for what she might have played a part in weighed visibly on her mind.

The smirk dropped from Wayne’s face. “Asteroid magnet.”

No one could tell if he was joking or not. It was such a preposterous idea, and yet so was the accusation of their bosses alien nature. But since the adult had yet to deny a single claim, what choice did the gang members have but to believe them?

Jimmy was equally skeptical, but was adamantly piecing things together in his head. The alleged magnet device, Granny’s Apocalyptic origins, the Intergang heists; It all had to fit together somehow. Scouring his memories for other recent news, he thought of where his peers had been dispatched today. The missing link slid into place. “Isn’t Fleischer’s Comet passing by soon? Is that what the thing’s for? To pull the comet in and… Destroy Earth?”

Supergirl and the other teens gasped. Wayne reapplied his smirk with a proud, “Bingo, Jimbo.”

That was the final straw. With her sins laid bare in full, the members of Intergang wrestled with an onslaught of self-reflection. Flashes of defeat, shame, and more coursed through their veins before focusing onto the source of these feelings with a single emotion: rage. The teens began to close in on their former leader. The uptick in ambient blood lust finally caught Granny Goodness’ attention. It inspired much of the same to well up within her. Sure, her plan had been outed. Certainly, her lackeys had lost their devotion. But did that mean she was simply to give up? Oh no. Not even in her dying breath.

Jumping to her feet, the alien invader announced with fervor, “Not so quick, now, you filthy little piggies! Big, bad Granny still has a foul wind to blow!”

Orange fluttered around as Granny swung her arms to her belt once more. Each hand revealed another set of devices: both small and cylindrical, made of silvery metal. The first hosted a large red button atop its crown, which the woman’s thick thumb collapsed upon with hastened intensity. The other’s ignition trigger occupied its side, and was pressed only moments afterwards. As the grey-haired invader cackled maliciously, a loud boom and portal of light opened beneath her feet. In mere moments, she had sunken into the fleeting portal.

The blinding white of the spacial rift dissipated to reveal the entirety of the warehouse was now bathed in a threatening red strobe. And something, somewhere, had begun an ominous beeping. Panic quickly swept through the room as assumptions swiftly took root. Many were locked in place from fear, while others scrambled for side doors and the recently noticed hole in the wall. The trio of interlopers had no time to think, only to act.

Jimmy, to his credit, moved immediately to start assisting those paralyzed by fear. The young man consoled and directed them with the ease of experience – an unsurprising trait when considering his personal history of escapes and kidnappings.

Wayne joined in this effort too, but gave a directive to their most able-bodied ally beforehand.

“Supergirl”, he called out over the shouts and cacophonous footsteps. “X-ray vision. find whatever she did.”

While Wayne’s unwelcome command displeased her, Kara was in no position to argue. The matter was too urgent. Leaving the boys to their evacuation procedures, she rose towards the ceiling to scan the room below as instructed. Nothing of note in the crates or walls. The exposed device room did not appear to be the source of the alarm either.

Supergirl looked and looked, inspecting each panel and instrument closer, just to be sure, before happening to pass her active eyes along the floor. Something glinted through the concrete haze – something unusual. Looking back at the space and moving above it, she intensified her stare. She peered deeper, deeper into the depths of the pier beneath them before an infant-sized tunnel became visible to her. It stretched out, the plugged entry hole resting somewhere beneath the waves of the bay outside. And at its end, a blinking light from one panel of a dark object matched the rhythm of the audible beeps. It was exactly as feared; Granny left behind a bomb.

◅◁◇▷▻

“— And then we ran out while Supergirl tried to dig to it”, Jimmy concluded as the ever-patient Superman listened on. “But she was just a second too late. She got sent flying, Wayne caught her, those two started to interrogate us, and then you arrived.”

Superman nodded quietly, looking from his young friend to the burning rubble. Emergency services had arrived during Jimmy’s recounting of events. Firemen worked diligently to oust the flames while both police and medics searched the area for anyone who might have been present – victim or otherwise. His feelings were conflicted, but he chose to focus on the lack of further damage. Most of all, Darkseid had been thwarted once again. That was more than enough.

“Thank you, Jimmy”, Superman finally replied as he returned his attentions on the group of teens. Looking to the unknown duo, he added with concern, “You should all head home. I’m sure this has been a long day for everyone. The police should be able to escort you both home.”

“I can stick with ‘em to make sure they make it safely”, offered Jimmy, eager to be of further assistance. The Man of Steel nodded once more with a slight smile.

Alice resisted the urge to click her tongue in contempt, certain that the boy had ulterior intentions, but determined to pick his brain if he gave her the chance. Esteban was too star-struck, staring with mouth agape at the two supers standing side-by-side. What an opportunity this was! How he wished to be more involved. How he wished to be one of them. And O’, how he wished he could take Wayne’s place in these events.

With little more to say, Superman told Supergirl to come with him – his expression clearly showing his plans to reprimand the girl – and they bid the others farewell. Once they had flown high enough, they watched the remaining teens from above as they piled into the back of a squad car, and were driven away from the smoking pier.

“So, Kara”, Mr. Kent began, turning to his cousin with crossed arms and a mild scowl. “I thought I told you to stay out of trouble?”

“Who? Me?” the blonde girl evaded, sheepishly avoiding eye contact. “I wasn’t in any trouble~ And besides; I had that Wayne kid to back me up. Oh- and Jimmy too, of course!”

Mr. Kent raised a curious brow, his expression otherwise unchanged. “Seems as though Wayne left quite a different impression, this time around. What changed?”

Kara caught on to her own choice of words a touch too late, realizing both the implication and the accompanying grin plastered across her face. Slapping both cheeks served to both reset her senses, and to conceal the brilliant red of embarrassment seeping into them. “N-nothing changed! I just– You know… He helped out, for once, so I owe him that!”

She chastised herself relentlessly in the forefront of her mind, trying to stuff down the tumultuous conflictions Wayne had left her as a parting gift. Keep it together, girl. Ugh, what is wrong with me?

“In anycase”, the older Kent proceeded, content not to pry into whatever inner struggle the younger one was dealing with. “Something about Jimmy’s story bothers me… This certainly proves Wayne’s knows much more than he ought to, but we still don’t understand his angle. Worse, we clearly don’t know how much he knows, and it sounded to me like he might have more than just factoids up his sleeves. He might be a—”

Mr. Kent scratched his chin as he compiled the information together. When met with an unusual silence, he glanced back over to find his cousin floating in a slow, clockwise spin with her hands still tight to her cheeks. A deep sigh escaped his lungs, but the man couldn’t help smiling at the truth not yet evident to Kara. Perhaps this was a conversation best left for later – when the excitement had worn off.

◅◁◇▷▻

Several hours later, on the distant planet of New Genesis, word of Darkseid’s nefarious plot began to sweep through the courts of Supertown. Carried by the tongues of the members of the Divine Guard, the foiled subterfuge eventually came to rest upon the ears of one particular individual.

Intrigued, the man halted the dozens of holographic displays before him in his darkened chamber. Body still obscured by his brassy hover-chair, he asked the crimson-clad soldier to reaffirm his story. The soldier attested: it was all true.

Shortly thereafter, the chair-bound entity approached another denizen of this world of gods. The other being – a white-beared man of clear authority holding a hook-ended staff of gold, dressed in robes of deep blue and shoulders draped in a royal purple cape – waved a hand to acknowledge his audience with the other – whose own attire was that of a black body suit which exposed only his tanned face, steel blue circuits stretching across it’s entirety and forming an odd pair of false brows along his covered forehead.

The placidity of the seated man’s tone belied his deeper concern as he spoke. “Highfather, there has been news of Earth; And of Darkseid.”

“I am aware, Metron”, nodded Highfather. A hand ran through his mane-like beard while he frowned. “It seems we have become too lax from our truce. That Apocalypse would endeavor to destroy a primitive world for only the sake of his ego is… Distressing.”

Metron nodded, but there was something in the silence that fell between them. Highfather knew the other to be a being of purpose, and the gossip of war fell far outside his interests. “This alone is not why you have come, is it?”

With a shake of his head, Metron replied, “No; This event – this temporal sequence – it is not as it should be. Through corroborating with K’zandr’s oracles and the gifts of the Mobius Chair, the proper order would see Kal-El – or ‘Superman’ – made captive by Darkseid to be later freed by his pseudo-relative, Kara In-Ze.”

Highfather gave Metron a look and ceased grooming his face. “And that is not what happened, as I have heard it.”

“Correct.”

“The monitors determined that the In-Ze girl was indeed involved, as were two human lads. Is that right?”

“Indeed, Highfather. However…” There was a pause. Metron mulled over how best to explain the particulars to his elder. “One of these humans is not present in the intended outcome. The one known as ‘Jimmy Olsen’ was predetermined as existent, but the other appears to be an anomaly of sorts. Upon further study, while his most basic information does reside within my awareness, the boy consistently remains obscured from the oracles’ sight. And what information I do not possess raises alarms towards his true nature, given the inconsistencies.”

The pair of Highfather’s hands clamped tightly around his golden shepherd's crook, leaning some weight upon it whilst deep in thought. Metron silently waited, his fingers loosely clasped over his lap as he floated in place. With a heavy sigh, Highfather looked once more to his companion. His eyes shown with determined clarity.

“You have my permission. Watch over the boy, but keep out of their direct affairs until you can determine the nature of this incongruity. If he is a threat to universal balance, I trust you to take the necessary actions to stop him.”

Metron gave a small bow – the wordless confirmation of orders. Highfather then turned away, stepping onto a floating disk of glowing light which slowly drifted away. He shouted briefly over his shoulder that he wished to be kept informed, to which Metron audibly agreed. The Mobius Chair beneath the remaining god turned the opposite way, accelerating as it flew out of the halls, out of the floating city, and out of the planet’s atmosphere.

In the coming days, Earth would become Metron’s domain.

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