The Rogues were done and down.

Captain Cold, Heatwave, Weather Wizard, Trickster, Mirror Master—all incapacitated.

The Flash and Ten stood to the side, watching as the police loaded the defeated villains into ambulances. They would be treated for hypothermia and other traumas before being sent to Iron Heights.

"What are you doing here with us peasants, Your Majesty?" Flash teased, acting all courteous.

"I go by Ten, and I'm here to meet the Scarlet Speedster," Ten replied, picking up Weather Wizard's staff and giving it a swirl.

"Nice tech. Primitive but nice," Ten commented as the weapon vanished from his hand.

A cop moved to apprehend Ten, but Flash quickly gestured that it was fine. The Justice League had been gaining trust and fame throughout the world, thanks to their heroics—especially with Superman being all "Super." Then there were all the things the keyboard warriors did to get attention.

"S.T.A.R. Labs really needs to improve their security," Ten advised, his eyes lingering on Cold's gun. "Criminals getting this kind of tech—it's dangerous for us and them."

Flash shrugged. "The Rogues are good. They know how to get their hands on the best gear."

"Then maybe civilians should get better weapons too," Ten mumbled, giving Flash a fright.

"Please don't. I already don't have time to deal with all of this," Flash winced, thinking of the chaos it would create.

Ten nodded, dropping the thought.

He then turned to Flash. "Why don't we talk somewhere more private?"

Flash scanned the scene before giving a nod. He didn't know why Zion was here, but he trusted that it was important.

Gaining consensus, Zion put his finger to his mouth and whistled. An engine's roar echoed through the street, and a sleek, futuristic bike screeched to a halt before them. Flash gave the bike an appreciative glance.

Ten circled around before hopping on, revving the engine. He glanced over his shoulder at Flash, grinning. "Don't be slow, Flash!" he said as his helmet materialized, then took off at blinding speed.

Flash chuckled at the challenge, and in a blink, he was right beside him.

Gold and red streaks blurred through the streets of Central City, weaving through traffic and dodging pedestrians. They soon reached the outskirts of the city, pulling up before a fast-food restaurant.

Zion hopped off his bike, tapping it gently.

"Nice ride," Flash remarked, genuinely impressed by its style and design.

"She is, and she's a very good girl," Ten cooed, taking out Weather Wizard's staff and throwing it up.

To Flash's amusement and amazement, the bike transformed. The mechanical parts morphed, its solid frame becoming goopy before reshaping into a mechanical wolf. She jumped at Weather Wizard's staff, catching it in her mouth before chewing on it like a toy, sparks flying as she devoured the weapon.

"Okay, that was impressive," Flash admitted. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you really were from outer space. Or are you?"

"Earth, through and through," Zion answered, before pointing at the shop. "Let's continue after we get something to eat. I'm starving."

The two promptly got themselves some food. Zion ordered a big burrito and a smoothie, while he also ordered multiple meals for Flash, knowing he could eat like a black hole. They ate in relative peace, with only a few patrons in the shop.

"So, you gonna tell me why you're really here?" Flash asked, sipping the last of his milkshake.

"I'm planning on settling in Keystone," Zion answered.

Flash raised an eyebrow. "Keystone? Why? Mars getting boring?"

Zion chuckled. "Mars is all fine, but it's not home, and I've been there long enough. It's time to breathe good old, polluted Earth air again. Plus, the kids need to go to school with humans."

That last part nearly made Flash choke. "Kids?" he repeated, clearly shocked.

Zion pulled a polaroid picture from his coat and extended it to Flash. "Had to go to hell and back for this."

Flash's eyes widened as he looked at the photo.

It showed Zion holding two young girls by the scruff of their necks. One, dressed in a purple robe, cradled a cat and looked bored. The younger girl hissed like a wild animal, clearly not happy about being held. In the background, Flash noticed familiar faces: Victor Fries with a blonde woman, Harley Quinn dragging Poison Ivy, a towering woman in casual wear with a man in a funky outfit, and a boy flashing a peace sign on a hoverboard.

Flash handed the picture back, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A lively bunch. You did good, kid."

Flash didn't ask much more about the kids because he trusted Zion to not do anything shady. The picture gave him enough proof that they were fine with him. Of course, he couldn't just make Zion give up the children without involving Superman. Maybe he'd inform him later.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Zion's expression softened, a genuine smile forming. "Thanks, Flash. But that's why I'm here. I need you to watch out for them."

Flash tilted his head. "Me? But why not Gotham? You've practically got that city under surveillance 24/7."

Zion shook his head. "Gotham's still... Gotham. It's not the right place for them. Not yet. I want them to experience something normal. But I also need to know that if anything happens, someone will be there. And who better than the fastest man alive?"

Flash smiled. "I've got their backs. Uncle Red, at your service."

Zion chuckled at the nickname.

"There's one more thing," he said, pulling out a card. "Give this to the Rogues. Tell them I'm offering them a legal job. If they're willing to stay in jail for a year, they can join a metahuman task force under my employ."

Flash took the card, his expression thoughtful. "I'll let them know. Thanks for the offer."

"Thank you, Barry," Zion replied, nodding in appreciation.

As Zion stood to leave, Flash followed. Ship was already back in her bike form when they exited.

"Oh, and Flash," Zion called as he revved the bike. "

It is in vain that you rise up early

and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep.

—Psalm 127:2 ."

Flash froze at his words. "What?" {My readers}

***

Zion left Flash unanswered as he sped toward Metropolis.

"Ship, connect to Metropolis," he commanded.

The frequency in his helmet switched before it connected to Metropolis news, just in time for a news flash.

[Metropolis is on high alert as reports flood in of a major incident involving LexCorp!]

[A gang armed with highly advanced technology is currently targeting LexCorp's vault, posing a significant threat to the city's financial and tech sector. The tech being used by the gang is reportedly far more advanced than anything law enforcement or LexCorp security have encountered before.]

[They are now in a confrontation with Supergirl, with no sight of Superman. The battle seems to be in Supergirl's favor, yet the collateral damage is intense.]

Zion smirked at the image of Supergirl battling power-suited criminals.

"Bright day, Metropolis."

He cut the connection before pushing the bike to full speed, accelerating towards the center of the chaos.

***

Deep beneath the ocean's surface, where the sun did not shine nor its light penetrate, and the weight of the world pressed down relentlessly.

At the bottom of the abyss stood a dark monolith, lit only by bioluminescent algae. The prison of Atlantis, known as the Abyssal Vault, housed those who had threatened the peace of Atlantis or trespassed into its sacred waters. It was the bastion for the realm's most dangerous criminals.

A man in his late twenties, blond hair and carrying a trident, stood in front of the vault, unaffected by the pressure of the deep. The reinforced metal door slid open with a soft hiss, yet the water did not flood through. His face was solemn as he peered inside, the faint glow of bioluminescent orbs casting eerie shadows on the sediment-covered walls.

At the center of the dimly lit cell knelt a man bound by chains—David Hyde, better known as Black Manta, captured in an air pocket that kept him alive. His imposing figure bore scars, his eyes fierce as he stared at the man before him. A land-dweller, imprisoned for trespassing into Atlantean waters.

"Prince Orm," Manta growled, his voice filled with venom. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Finally here to finish me off?"

Orm Marius, Prince of Atlantis, stepped into the cell, water dripping from his armor as he breathed the air. His determined gaze settled on David. "I'm not here to punish you, Scavenger. I'm here to offer you a chance—a chance at redemption."

David's eyes flickered with interest, though his expression remained hardened. "Redemption? From you? Atlantis doesn't know the meaning of that word. You're as cruel as the lands you despise."

Orm folded his arms, his tone unwavering. "You trespassed into our kingdom, looking to plunder our resources. The laws of Atlantis are clear, and you should be grateful you're still alive. But today, I'm willing to give you a chance to walk out of here—on one condition."

Manta's lips curled. "And what might that be, Your Highness?"

Orm stepped closer, his voice firm. "I want you to find a land

-dweller, a half-Atlantean who doesn't know his lineage. I want you to find him and bring him back—bring him home."

"And why would I help you?" David sneered, his heart burning with revenge.

He had come to Atlantis in search of treasure, but his crew had been slaughtered by the Atlantean forces that ambushed them. He was the only one who survived, and he had been their prisoner since. Drowned in dim light and fed algae—Earth's prison food was better than this.

Orm stood straight, his gaze looking down at David. "Because the alternative is to rot in this prison and never see the sun again."

David's eyes darkened, revenge burning in his chest, but he couldn't let go of the opportunity for freedom.

"Fine. I'll help you," David agreed. "Where do I search for him?"

Orm gestured to a guard, who stepped forward in full armor, holding a device resembling a suckerfish. The guard circled David and attached the device to his spine. David screamed in pain, his body writhing.

Before he could retaliate, the guard held him down.

"This is my guarantee that you'll return," Orm stated firmly. "The half-Atlantean is the son of a lighthouse keeper in Amnesty Bay, Maine. I don't have much information about him. Find him, bring him home, and you can keep your life."

David grunted, the phantom pain still lingering.

"What is he to you?" David questioned, wondering why the Prince of Atlantis would go to such lengths.

Orm stared in silence for a moment before answering. "He is my brother, a prince of Atlantis. He might have lost his way on land, but the ocean is his home. He belongs to Atlantis."

For a brief moment, Manta saw something in Orm's eyes that gave him pause—vulnerability. Orm, though a calculating prince, hadn't expected to show warmth. But the sincerity in his words, his longing for his brother's return, gave Manta pause. The thought of Orm being more than just cold made David reconsider. But the slaughter of his crew snuffed such thoughts.

Orm reached into his belt and pulled out a small device—a compact piece of Atlantean technology. With a flick of his wrist, it unfolded into a sleek communicator.

"This is yours," Orm said, handing the device to Manta. "I'll also provide you with Atlantean tech to assist you in finding my brother. Bring him back here unharmed. No more chains. No more prison."

Manta stared at the device in his hand. The thought of betrayal flashed in his mind, but the sting in his spine reminded him of the new chains that bound him. He would find the prince's brother... and then he would kill them both.

Outwardly, Manta played the part of a grateful prisoner. He looked up at Orm, his expression carefully neutral. "And what happens after I find him? Should I talk him into coming back or force him? What if he doesn't want to return?"

Orm's jaw clenched. "Bring him back. Atlantis is his home."

David chuckled darkly. "I'll find him. Not for redemption—I couldn't care less. I'll do it for my freedom."

Orm eyed Manta warily but nodded. "As long as you find him and bring him back, our deal stands."

David stood up, the chains around his wrists clinking as they loosened. He stretched his arms, feeling freedom he hadn't known in months. Orm turned to leave, but David's voice stopped him.

"Little Prince," David called, his tone icy. "Don't think for a second that this changes anything between us. We still have unfinished business."

The guard immediately struck him, forcing him to his knees. He lifted his weapon, ready to end the talker. But Orm raised his hand to stop him.

"Land-dweller, be grateful that I have need of you," Orm said coldly before leaving.

Manta stood with the guards, clutching the communicator in his hand. He smirked, a twisted plan already forming in his mind. With Atlantean technology now at his disposal, Manta would play along. But this wasn't about redemption.

This was about finishing what he had started—on his own terms.