Chapter 138 - Chapter 138 - Stirrings in the Higher Realms as Darkness Looms - Part 5 (Updated)

Dakota City - Docks - Gate 10 - Midnight

Meanwhile in Dakota City, as the world processed the shocking announcement that had dominated headlines, local gangs seized the opportunity amid the distraction. Under cover of night, rival factions converged on the docks to settle their differences in what they believed would be a decisive confrontation. The atmosphere was tense as they faced off, weapons at the ready.

The sudden arrival of police helicopters shattered the night, searchlights cutting through the darkness as an amplified voice commanded: "This is Dakota PD! You are in a restricted area. Drop your weapons and step into the open with your hands visible!"

"Shit, it's the cops!" shouted one gang member, panic evident in his voice. "Everyone scatter!"

"Move it! Don't get caught!" ordered another, already backing away.

As spotlights tracked their movements, one desperate gang member drew his pistol and took aim at the helicopter's searchlight. The others began dispersing into the shadows, hoping to escape under cover of darkness.

Bang!

"Damn it!" The pilot jerked the controls as one of their searchlights shattered. "Taking fire from below! Pulling up to safe altitude." His voice hardened as he addressed his partner. "Those punks just shot at a police aircraft. Recommend we deploy tear gas."

"Roger that. Deploying countermeasures."

The officers launched tear gas canisters toward the fleeing gang members, but fate had other plans. Instead of landing on the pavement, several canisters struck a cluster of industrial barrels prominently marked with hazard warnings. The impact triggered a catastrophic chain reaction as the barrels ruptured, releasing a mysterious purple vapor that rapidly engulfed the docks.

Within seconds, the gas overcame the gang members. Those nearest to the explosion were hit hardest, dropping to their knees, coughing violently before losing consciousness. The purple mist continued to spread across the waterfront.

At the perimeter, an officer stepped from his patrol car, staring in disbelief at the unfolding scene. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

His partner reached into their vehicle, retrieving two gas masks. "No idea, but I'm not taking chances," he replied grimly, handing one over. "Better suit up before we go any closer."

While most gang members succumbed to the gas, a few managed desperate escapes. Some plunged into Lake Dakota, while others, including one particularly fortunate young man, scaled the perimeter fence just in time. As police in protective gear approached the scene, they found dozens of unconscious gang members. Ambulances were quickly summoned, and the victims were rushed to nearby hospitals.

Throughout the night, emergency rooms filled with affected individuals. Medical staff watched in horror as patients began exhibiting alarming symptoms—some screaming in agony as their bodies underwent bizarre mutations. Meanwhile, air currents carried the purple gas to other parts of the city.

The next morning, while the world was still processing yesterday's major announcement, local news stations broadcast shocking footage from Dakota City. Reporters dubbed the incident "The Big Bang" as more victims arrived at hospitals, some transforming before live cameras.

Across town, Virgil Hawkins awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented. "I'm home... I actually made it," he breathed, relief washing over him. His moment of calm was short-lived as strange electrical sparks suddenly emanated from his body, causing his bedsheets to wrap around him like a cocoon. "Whoa! What's happening?"

The sparks intensified, attracting metal objects from around his room—paperclips, a stapler, even his desk lamp began sliding toward him. "Yikes!" Panicking, Virgil bolted from his room, slamming the door behind him.

Leaning against the hallway wall, he tried to catch his breath when his father's voice made him jump.

"Virgil, how many times have I told you not to slam doors in this house?" Robert Hawkins said firmly, giving his son a pointed look.

"Sorry, Dad! Won't happen again!" Virgil promised, attempting to appear normal despite his internal panic.

After his father continued down the hallway, Virgil slipped into the bathroom. Before he could even reach for the light switch, the overhead fixture illuminated on its own. His father's electric shaver, unplugged on the counter, suddenly whirred to life.

"Either Dad's shaver is possessed, or..." Virgil stared at his reflection in the mirror. As his anxiety increased, the electrical energy surrounding him grew more visible, small arcs of blue-white electricity dancing across his skin. "Okay, I'm officially freaked out. What the hell is happening to me? I'm like a walking fuse box!"

Not wanting to damage anything in the bathroom, Virgil forced himself to think rationally. He noticed how the electricity seemed to respond to his emotional state. Taking deep breaths, he closed his eyes and focused on calming himself, steadying his racing heart and chaotic thoughts.

When he opened his eyes again, the visible electricity had diminished to occasional small sparks. Experimentally, he clenched his fist and watched as small arcs of electricity danced between his fingers—controllable now. A smile spread across his face. "This is trippy... but kinda cool! I need to talk to someone about this."

After finishing in the bathroom, he rushed back to his room and called the one person he trusted completely—his best friend Richie. He arranged to meet him at the abandoned auto junkyard where they could talk privately.

An hour later, Richie arrived at the junkyard, looking around with confusion. "Virgil? Hey, Virgil!" he called out. "Where are you, man? Calling me out here this early better be important. Had me worried sick when you just hung up the phone..."

His words trailed off as several car husks behind him began to rise into the air, casting long shadows over him. Richie spun around, his jaw dropping. "What the—Virgil?"

Virgil stood atop a rusted car chassis, grinning as he manipulated the floating vehicles with subtle hand gestures. "Tell me that's not the coolest thing you've ever seen!" With a flick of his wrist, he gently lowered the cars back to the ground.

"How are you doing that?" Richie asked, stunned into momentary speechlessness.

"Remember that gas explosion at the docks last night?" Virgil held up his fist, allowing electricity to crackle visibly around it. "I was there, Richie. The gas changed me. Check this out."

Virgil spread his arms wide, and the car he was standing on slowly rose from the ground. With controlled movements of his hands, he guided it in a circle around his astonished friend.

"Double whoa," Richie whispered, watching in amazement.

"I know, right? Watch this!" Virgil directed his energy toward various pieces of scrap metal, causing them to float and dance through the air before striking precisely at targets he selected. "See? Am I awesome or what?"

"V-man, you could totally be a superhero with powers like that!" Richie exclaimed, his initial shock giving way to excitement.

"I could, couldn't I?" Virgil grinned, momentarily losing focus. The car he was standing on suddenly drifted backward, colliding with a pile of junk before he could regain control. The impact sent him tumbling into the scrap heap.

"Virgil!" Richie shouted, running toward the pile. "You okay, man? Say something!"

After a tense moment, the junk began to rise and separate, revealing a dust-covered Virgil sprawled in an undignified position. "Yeah... I'm good. Turns out controlling these powers takes serious concentration."

"Well, definitely not ready for the big leagues yet," Richie said, helping clear debris from his friend. "But you could probably join that young hero team—the Teen Titans."

"Maybe," Virgil replied, accepting Richie's outstretched hand and pulling himself up.

"Seriously, V-man, you should consider it," Richie insisted, his expression growing serious. "You're probably a metahuman now, like those people in Central City. Listen, man—these abilities, you don't know their full extent or if that gas has finished changing you. Remember what happened in Central City? That was no joke—created both heroes and dangerous villains. You should approach the Teen Titans for help. They might even train you."

Virgil sighed, his earlier excitement giving way to sobering reality. "You're right. I saw others on the news this morning—some of them mutated so badly they barely look human anymore." He nodded resolutely. "Let's go to school, and afterward, I'll head to Jump City. That's where the Titans operate from, right?"

"Yeah, but bro—" Richie wrinkled his nose, "—you should definitely go home and shower first. You reek like a junkyard."

"Huh?" Virgil lifted his arm, sniffed his armpit, and looked down at his filthy clothes. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Aw man, you're right."

The two friends laughed, their plan set as they headed out of the junkyard, unaware that their lives had changed forever—and that both new heroes and challenges were about to emerge in Dakota City.

Jump City - Wayne Mansion - Current Teen Titans HQ

As Dakota City awakened to its new sobering reality, two powerful figures were engaged in combat behind Wayne Mansion. What began as a controlled sparring session had escalated dramatically. Raven and Supergirl had started with light hand-to-hand combat, carefully regulating their power levels. However, when their fists finally collided after a series of exchanges, the impact created a shockwave that carved a crater into the ground, sending dust, soil, and rocks billowing upward.

"Let's kick it up a notch, shall we?" called Raven, her mature form hovering as she jumped backward to create distance between herself and her opponent. With a graceful wave of her hand toward the figure emerging from the dust cloud, she summoned her magic. "Dark Lightning!"

Dark colored lightning crackled around her palm before expanding outward, arcing toward her target with deadly precision.

"Oh come on! I was enjoying the hand-to-hand," Supergirl complained, launching herself backward. She moved in erratic zig-zag patterns, dodging the lightning strikes with superhuman speed. "Fine then!"

Kara knew all too well that magic posed a significant threat to Kryptonians—a warning her cousin Clark had emphasized repeatedly during their training sessions just days ago.

"Think you can dodge that, do you?" A smile crept across Raven's face beneath her hood as her eyes flashed brilliantly. She channeled her Ki energy, rising higher into the air and spreading her arms wide. The lightning intensified, becoming faster and more unpredictable.

Despite her best efforts, Supergirl couldn't evade every strike. A powerful bolt caught her squarely in the chest.

AAARRRGGGHHH!

Though the pain was intense, Kara's training aboard the Void Sentinel had prepared her for such moments. She planted her feet firmly on the ground in a horse stance, lowering her center of gravity. Through gritted teeth, she pulled her hands inward, making tight fists as she channeled her own Ki and called upon her stored energy.

Fighting through the pain, she looked up with blazing eyes and unleashed twin beams of searing blue energy—her heat vision—directly at Raven hovering in the sky.

"Oh! Nice," Raven remarked, her smile growing wider with excitement beneath her hood. She brought her hands together, focusing her lightning to counter the incoming heat vision.

The two attacks collided with catastrophic force. At the point of impact, the ground beneath cratered further as shockwaves reverberated outward. The energy blast was powerful enough to shatter windows throughout the mansion and destroy the large glass sliding doors leading from the living room to the training area.

Inside the mansion, chaos erupted as the Titans were violently awakened.

"Sweet mother of—what the hell is happening?!" Roy Harper leaped from his bed, instinctively grabbing his bow as he was jolted awake by the commotion.

"Kyaaaaa!" Karen Beecher screamed as she was startled in the shower when the windows of her room shattered and the walls trembled around her. "Is it an earthquake?"

"Oh come on! NOOOOOOOOO!" Garfield Logan shouted in frustration as he was rudely awakened. His enhanced senses had detected the danger from shattered glass flying inward after his window broke from the shockwave. His entire bed shook violently, pulling him from a particularly pleasant dream.

In his dream, Gar had been lounging in a hot spring, surrounded by bikini-clad versions of women he'd harbored crushes on—Kori, Barbara, Kara, Rachel from his team, and even Justice League members like Black Canary and Wonder Woman. Having been abruptly torn from this fantasy—the only place he could imagine such impossible scenarios—Gar felt like cursing the entire world.

Meanwhile, Kori, Dick, Jaime, and Barbara had been downstairs finishing breakfast and watching the morning news when the mansion suddenly shook violently. Coffee mugs rattled against the table as a deafening crash echoed from outside. They exchanged alarmed glances before rushing toward the source of the commotion. As they reached the back patio, they witnessed the spectacular clash of energies—Raven's dark lightning crackling against Supergirl's intense heat vision, creating a blinding point of collision between them.

"¡Madre mía!" Jaime exclaimed, his eyes widening as his scarab armor automatically materialized to shield him from the dangerous energy waves rippling through the air.

Dick quickly pulled Barbara behind a sturdy column and massaged his temples in frustration. "They're at it again," he grumbled, his expression darkening as he assessed the damage. "And Raven's even channeling her full power in that adult form."

"Maybe let's not call it 'adult form' where Rachel can hear you," Barbara cautioned, ducking as another shockwave rattled the foundation. "Enhanced form is probably better," she corrected, wincing as debris clattered nearby. "But semantics aside, they're really going all out." Her eyes tracked the expanding crater beneath the colliding energies with growing alarm. "At this rate, they'll destabilize the entire cliff face. We need to shut this down before they bring the whole mansion down with us in it."

"I agree," Kori replied, her emerald eyes reflecting concern as she extended her arms, generating a protective energy barrier around their group. "But approaching that energy nexus would be unwise without proper countermeasures."

Barbara's mind raced through options before she snapped her fingers. "I know who can help," she said decisively, pulling out her communicator. She quickly scrolled through her contacts and tapped on "Wonder Girl," hoping Donna would answer promptly.

In her bedroom, Donna remained deeply asleep despite the chaos. Exhausted from yesterday's intensive training session after the meeting about the upcoming Tournament of Power, she hadn't stirred once. The League had discussed how members from both the League and the Titans would participate in the qualifying tournament Orach was arranging, where heroes—including potential multiverse variants of herself and her sister—would compete. This exciting prospect had motivated Donna to begin immediate training with Raven, with Supergirl soon joining them as the newest Teen Titans member.

Wrapped snugly in her comforter and clutching her pillow, Donna had somehow managed to sleep through the mansion-shaking battle until the persistent buzzing of her communicator finally caused her brows to furrow. After several moments, her eyes fluttered open groggily. She reached across her mattress, fingers searching for the device as irritation built within her.

"This better be important, Barb," she muttered upon seeing the caller ID, her voice thick with sleep.

"Wake up already! We need you downstairs ASAP. Rachel and Kara are going nuclear again," Barbara's urgent voice came through the speaker, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of energy discharge in the background.

"What?" The sleep fog instantly cleared from Donna's mind as she bolted upright, finally registering the tremors shaking the mansion and the thunderous sounds echoing from outside. She swung her legs over the bed's edge, her expression turning serious. "Gods, I must have been more exhausted than I thought to sleep through this chaos. Diana would put me through training hell if she knew."

With practiced efficiency, Donna donned her Wonder Woman armor—a gift from Diana who had upgraded to a new battlesuit that far outclassed this Hephaestus-crafted armor. Securing her enchanted shield and sword, Donna raced through the hallway. She burst onto the upper patio and assessed the situation in seconds.

Without hesitation, she launched herself between the colliding energy beams, landing in a perfect three-point stance that cratered the already damaged ground beneath her. In one fluid motion, she raised her shield to intercept Supergirl's heat vision, redirecting it skyward, while simultaneously using her sword to channel Raven's dark lightning away from the mansion. The diverted energies created a spectacular atmospheric display visible for miles—twin pillars of blue heat and black lightning stretching into the morning sky.

Recognizing Donna's intervention, both Raven and Supergirl immediately ceased their attacks, cutting off their Ki flow. As the dust settled around them, Wonder Girl rose to her full height, her expression stern as she planted her sword point-down in the ground beside her.

"You two—front and center. Now!" she commanded, her voice carrying the authority of an Amazon warrior.

Though both Raven and Supergirl possessed greater power than Wonder Girl, they immediately tensed at her tone. Neither dared challenge the Amazon's authority—to Raven, she was an aunt, as Wonder Woman's daughter; to Supergirl, she was her mentor's sister.

As they surveyed the devastation their impromptu sparring session had caused—shattered windows, fractured cliff face, and cratered training grounds—understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by chagrin.

Raven descended gracefully while Supergirl landed softly beside her. Both approached Wonder Girl with genuinely apologetic expressions.

"I understand your excitement," Donna began firmly, "but look around you." She gestured with her hand toward the coastline. "This cliff facing the ocean is a beautiful sight for all of us." She pointed at the damaged ground with her sword. "Now there are craters everywhere, dust coating everything, and the mansion..." She trailed off, indicating the building and the group of irritated Titans who had joined Dick, Kori, Barbara, and Jaime downstairs.

Gar stood in his rumpled pajamas, looking groggy and annoyed. Karen had rushed out with only a towel wrapped around her body, water still dripping from her hair. Roy had his bow drawn with an arrow nocked, ready for what he'd assumed was an attack. All three wore expressions of undisguised irritation at being so rudely shaken up.

"Well," Donna sighed, "it seems you've managed to upset everyone." She turned back to face Raven and Supergirl directly. "Batman confirmed our new base should be ready soon. All we need is patience. I understand the need to train, but you both need to dial it down until we move to our new HQ with proper training facilities. Understood?"

Raven and Supergirl exchanged a glance before nodding in unison. Raven removed her hood, her eyes showing genuine remorse as she spoke, "We understand. I like this place too. I apologize for letting our excitement get the better of us. It won't happen again."

"Absolutely," Supergirl added earnestly. "We'll keep our training light from now on. And if we do need to go all-out, we'll find a remote location away from here." She turned toward the other Titans and called out, "I'm truly sorry for the disruption, everyone!"

The gathered Titans, though clearly irritated, seemed to soften at the sincere apologies. They exchanged glances and collectively decided to let the matter go—after all, they were family in all but blood.

"Just don't make a habit of it," Roy said, relaxing his stance and returning the arrow to his quiver with practiced ease.

Karen adjusted her towel and nodded. "It's fine, but you're fixing my room. That place is a disaster zone with glass everywhere." She turned to Barbara with a half-smile. "Mind if I use your bathroom and borrow some clothes? I'd rather not navigate through the minefield that is my room right now."

"Of course," Barbara replied with an understanding nod.

"I'll contact Batman for an update on our new headquarters," Dick said, already heading back inside with Kori beside him. He took her hand as they ascended the stairs toward their room, clearly planning to make the most of their day off.

Jaime noticed that Gar remained unusually downcast, looking as though he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Concerned, he approached his friend. "Hey, hermano. What's still bothering you?"

Gar sighed dramatically, his shoulders slumping. "Leave it, Jaime. It's not something you'd understand."

"Come on, man. Did you get hurt or something?" Jaime asked, genuine concern in his voice.

With a furtive glance around, Gar pulled Jaime to a quiet corner. His eyes grew watery as he gripped Jaime's shoulders. "I was in paradise, Jaime. Absolute paradise." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I was dreaming about hot springs filled with all these bikini clad gorgeous women—Kori, Kara, Barbara, Rachel—even Black Canary with her amazing legs. And just when Wonder Woman was about to join us..." His voice cracked with emotion. "Their commotion woke me up! Paradise, Jaime—I lost paradise!"

"…"

Jaime stared at his friend, utterly speechless.

The silence stretched between them.

Neither Jaime nor his scarab knew how to respond to this confession. After a moment, the Scarab's voice resonated in Jaime's mind. 'Jaime Reyes, this friend is a liability. Recommended action: terminate with extreme prejudice. Eliminate him before he incurs the wrath of the Saiyan.'

"…"

Jaime remained silent, processing both Gar's confession and the Scarab's extreme suggestion.

'Why do you hesitate? You are aware of the Saiyan's protective nature regarding his daughter and partner. This one dreams of them inappropriately. He poses a significant risk.'

'I'm considering my options... For once, I'm almost tempted to agree with you.'

'This is progress. Now eliminate this hormone-driven threat.'

'No. He's still my friend. And they're just dreams—inappropriate, but harmless.'

The Scarab fell silent, clearly disapproving but accepting Jaime's decision—for now.

Ignoring the Scarab's murderous suggestions, Jaime focused on his friend. "Hermano, I'm saying this as your friend: you need professional help. Let's talk to Batman about arranging some sessions with a therapist."

"What? No, I'm perfectly fine," Gar protested, bewildered by Jaime's serious reaction.

"You're not fine, Gar." Before his friend could argue further, Jaime grabbed his arm and began leading him away. Gar struggled briefly before transforming into a small bird and flying off. Undeterred, Jaime activated his armor's tracking capabilities and pursued him, beginning a chase that would last until lunchtime when Gar, exhausted, finally surrendered. Jaime made a mental note to speak with Batman about arranging professional counseling for his friend at the earliest opportunity.

Meanwhile, Rachel and Kara diligently worked to repair the damage they had caused. Rachel used her magic to restore the fractured ground and rejuvenate the lush greenery they had destroyed, while Kara handled the structural repairs—clearing broken glass, fixing damaged furniture the best she could, and reinforcing weakened sections of the mansion. She followed the suggested steps from Mother Empress that she had received after Rachel allowed her to use her terminal to consult with Mother Empress for help.

Two hours later, with most of the repairs complete, Donna—who had gone back to her room after defusing the situation and helping the two for a bit—returned freshened up and changed. She joined the others for a late breakfast in the common area. As they ate, the news on the tv caught their attention with breaking coverage from Dakota City. What had started as local news quickly gained national attention. The mood in the room immediately sobered as they watched the unfolding crisis.

"Those teenagers are transforming into meta-humans," Barbara observed grimly, her mind already assessing the situation. "I need to contact Batman immediately."

"Agreed," Donna said, her eyes narrowing as she watched footage of a teenager on a gurney undergoing a painful metamorphosis. "We should recommend that the League authorize us to deploy to Dakota City for reconnaissance and assessment."

"I second that," Rachel added as she entered from outside, drawn by the serious tone of the conversation.

Kara hovered in the doorway, her expression filled with compassion as she watched the screen. "That transformation looks excruciating," she murmured, sympathy evident in her voice.

"This doesn't look like a natural occurrence," Karen observed as she entered the room, her hair still damp from her shower. "Those transformations are too widespread and simultaneous to be coincidental."

"I agree. I've just received word from Batman," Barbara announced, looking up from her tablet. "Gar and Roy will head out to continue surveillance on LexCorp as planned, while Batman has requested Blue Beetle to meet with Miss Martian at Dakota City. She'll be available for a few hours before she needs to return to assist Martian Manhunter. Your primary objective is to investigate the cause behind the incident, assess the situation, and report back. You are not to engage unless absolutely necessary."

"Understood." acknowledged Jaime in with a subdued Gar in tow.

Roy, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed, asked, "Any intel on what caused this? Chemical leak? Experimental weapon? Alien tech gone wrong?"

"Nothing definitive yet," Barbara answered, eyes scanning through data streams. "But preliminary reports suggest a new chemical compound might be involved. It was supposedly being stored at the docks before it could be moved to a proper facility. A gang fight broke out in that same location last night, and when police intervened, something went wrong—leading to an explosion that caused the chemical to be exposed and become airborne."

"A drug that turns people into meta-humans?" Kori's brow furrowed. "That sounds dangerous. Do we know if the compound is fully dispersed in the atmosphere? Or do we need to worry about exposure? We need to contain this before it spreads beyond Dakota."

Rachel spoke thoughtfully, "I should accompany Blue Beetle. My magic and battle suit can protect me from any contamination, and my empathic abilities may help us understand the affected teenagers."

Kori nodded. "That's an excellent suggestion." She turned to Barbara and said, "Barbara, we should deploy Rachel alongside Jaime."

"I agree," Barbara replied after a moment's consideration. "Raven will join Blue Beetle. The combination of her mystical abilities and his scarab's analytical capabilities should provide us with comprehensive data."

"Then it's settled." Dick clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright team. You have your assignments. Gar and Roy on LexCorp surveillance; Jaime and Rachel to Dakota City. The rest of us will remain on standby for potential backup. Now go and prepare for deployment. And remember, stay in constant communication and be safe out there."

"Understood," they responded in unison.

Soon, the two teams took off toward their destinations.

Dakota City

Raven and Blue Beetle arrived in the skies above Dakota City in the early evening aboard Miss Martian's bio-ship. M'gann engaged the ship's cloaking technology, rendering it invisible to anyone below as they descended to a lower altitude to survey the situation.

"Miss Martian, can your ship scan for any contaminants in the atmosphere?" Raven asked, her voice calm but focused.

M'gann nodded, her hands gliding over the ship's organic controls while her eyes remained fixed on navigating through the city's skyline. "Already on it. I've initiated a comprehensive scan. We should have results momentarily."

"Excellent." Raven tapped her terminal and opened her family's secure channel to the Void Sentinel, sending a command: "Crescent, perform atmospheric analysis of Dakota City. Priority level: urgent." In the next moment, Void Sentinel started its scan of the city. While Raven trusted the capabilities of Miss Martian's bio-ship, she wanted to be thorough and not miss anything in their scans—deploying Void Sentinel's sensors would make sure of it.

While the women conducted the scans, Jaime stood by the viewport, his Scarab interface displaying news footage streaming directly to his visor. His expression grew increasingly troubled as the Scarab downloaded the latest information from local networks. Mentally, he opened a dialogue with the symbiotic entity.

'Scarab, what can you tell me about this situation? Can you run a preliminary analysis?'

The Scarab's voice resonated in his mind. 'Detecting faint levels of mutagenic agent in the atmosphere over Dakota City. Chemical composition is unfamiliar but appears capable of interacting with human DNA in highly unpredictable ways. Recommend caution upon deployment to affected areas.'

'Could it affect us—you or me?'

'This unit's defense systems should neutralize most contaminants. However, without proper sample analysis, complete immunity cannot be guaranteed.'

"Great," Jaime muttered aloud, inadvertently drawing attention.

Miss Martian glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. "What's great, Blue Beetle?"

"Sorry," Jaime replied, slightly embarrassed. "Just the Scarab being... itself. Nothing to report yet."

Raven remained silent, but her eyes narrowed beneath her hood. She was well aware of the Scarab's mysterious origins and the potential threat it posed. With Mother Empress at her disposal, she could neutralize it if necessary, but for now, she chose to let it be—the mission took precedence.

"Wait—" M'gann suddenly straightened in her seat. "The ship's sensors are picking up an altercation. Looks like a metahuman confrontation near a construction site." She adjusted their course, and the bio-ship's viewing screen materialized, displaying two figures locked in combat below.

"Interesting," M'gann observed. "One appears to be pyrokinetic, while the other displays electrokinetic abilities."

Blue Beetle stepped closer to the screen, analyzing the footage. "The electrokinetic seems to be protecting civilians in the area. The fire-wielder is causing indiscriminate damage."

Raven rose from her seat and turned to Miss Martian. "We need to get closer. Directly observing them will help us better determine who poses a threat and who might be a potential Titans recruit."

"Huh? Wait a second. We're not on a recruiting mission, Raven," Blue Beetle pointed out, crossing his arms.

Raven turned slowly, her eyes glowing from within the darkness cast by her hood, fixed on him with unnerving intensity.

Blue Beetle shifted uncomfortably under her silent gaze. After several seconds of silence, he uncrossed his arms and looked away.

"...Fine," he muttered, as the Scarab at his back silently mocked Jaime.

"All right then." M'gann's eyes glowed briefly. "Opening the hatch now."

A circular opening formed in the floor of the bio-ship, revealing the city below.

"Let's go, Beetle," Raven said, stepping toward the opening.

"Right behind you," Jaime confirmed as his armor's wings materialized on his back. They both descended through the hatch.

Upon reaching an observation position, Raven cast a spell of invisibility, bending light around them to conceal their presence as they watched the confrontation unfold.

Below, the electrokinetic teen hovered on a metal disc above his opponent, calling down, "Newton's laws catching up to you, Hotstreak? Or should I start calling you Burnout?" The taunt clearly struck a nerve, as Hotstreak's face contorted with rage. He unleashed a barrage of fireballs skyward, but the hovering teen easily maneuvered his disc out of harm's way.

Raven observed with interest. 'His emotions are an open book—cocky and overconfident, but his intentions seem protective.' Her eyes narrowed as she analyzed how the electrokinetic used his powers. 'Interesting... electromagnetic manipulation. For someone who just recently awakened, making that disc levitate shows impressive intuitive control.' She activated her terminal to gather data on both combatants.

"See? Gravity's my friend now," the electrokinetic teen called out, dodging another fireball before using his powers to magnetically pull construction materials and equipment toward Hotstreak.

Aaarrrgh!

Though momentarily staggered, Hotstreak recovered with renewed fury. He unleashed a massive wave of flames that incinerated or repelled the incoming projectiles, momentarily catching the electrokinetic teen off guard.

"If you think this is a standoff, you're wrong!" Hotstreak shouted. He directed intense flames downward from his clenched fists, using the thrust to launch himself skyward. The unexpected maneuver succeeded—he collided with the hovering teen, sending them both crashing into a nearby park.

Just as Hotstreak prepared to deliver a finishing blow to his downed opponent, fire trucks arrived at the scene. The firefighters immediately turned their hoses on Hotstreak, dousing his flames and subduing him effectively.

The electrokinetic teen, seeing the situation under control, quietly slipped away with his head lowered, clearly dejected by the outcome.

Raven and Blue Beetle exchanged a knowing glance. Without words, they split up—Blue Beetle followed the police as they took Hotstreak into custody, while Raven tracked the electrokinetic metahuman to his home.

Perched invisibly outside, Raven carefully observed the interactions within the home. She learned the youth's identity—Virgil Hawkins—and overheard his family's concerned discussions about the recent metahuman emergence. They expressed particular concern about some metahumans transforming into non-human forms, unaware that their own Virgil was the electricity-wielding hero now known as "Static." Raven sensed the self-doubt growing within Virgil as he listened to his family's fears.

"Raven," Blue Beetle's voice soon came through the comms. "Mission accomplished. I managed to secure a blood sample from Hotstreak. Wasn't easy, but it's done. What's your status?"

"Subject identified as Virgil Hawkins," Raven replied softly. "He appears to be using his powers for good, without any training or guidance. With proper mentoring, he could become a Titan. His potential is decent."

"Wow," M'gann's voice chimed in with a light chuckle. "Coming from you, that's practically a glowing recommendation."

"HaHa Very funny," Rachel responded dryly. She focused her Ki, drawing upon her understanding of Primordial laws of space to create a ripple in space. Stepping through, she materialized silently in Virgil's bedroom.

The teenager was alone, talking to himself in frustration. "I can't believe I let Hotstreak get the better of me." Static electricity crackled around his fingers as his emotions fluctuated. His expression suddenly darkened. "What if Dad's right? What if I'm not done changing? What if I turn into some kind of blob monster?" He sighed heavily. "Richie was right. I need to contact the Titans. Damn Hotstreak for ruining my plans to visit Jump City today. I need answers."

Raven raised her hand, casting a gentle sleep spell. As Virgil drifted into unconsciousness, she approached carefully and collected a blood sample. With her task complete, she opened another spatial portal and returned to the bio-ship.

Aboard the ship, they analyzed both blood samples, comparing them against baseline human genomic data. The results confirmed significant mutations in both subjects' cellular structures. Additionally, the ship's atmospheric scans revealed that the gas responsible for triggering these metahuman transformations had fully dispersed and was no longer present in detectable quantities.

"These genetic markers are remarkably similar to those found in Central City metahumans," M'gann observed, studying the holographic display. "There's no doubt they are metahumans."

"Which confirms the worst-case scenario," Raven concluded, her voice turning cold. "Someone has created a compound that replicates the effects of Dark matter exposure. We need to trace the source immediately. Technology this dangerous cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands… better yet, it shouldn't be allowed to exist at all."

"Wait," Blue Beetle raised his hand, his voice firm. "I understand the risk, and I'm all for tracking the source. But destroying someone's research crosses a line. This represents someone's hard work—possibly breakthroughs that could help people if properly regulated. The Justice League has established protocols for handling dangerous technology. Let's secure it and let them make the call on this."

"Beetle, let's be realistic," Raven replied, her voice calm but carrying underlying steel. "Technology like this is rarely developed with pure intentions. The potential for weaponization is simply too great." She leaned forward slightly. "Imagine someone like Amanda Waller acquiring this research. She would weaponize it without hesitation, consequences be damned."

Her eyes narrowed. "Unlike my father's research, which no one would dare touch, this scientist's work is vulnerable. What happens when governments or corporations apply pressure they can't resist?"

Blue Beetle shifted uncomfortably. "I understand the risk, but still—"

Raven raised a hand, her expression softening slightly. "Let's not argue right now. First, let's locate the source and examine the data ourselves. Once we understand the creator's intentions and the full scope of the research, we can make an informed decision together."

Miss Martian also chimed in, nodding. "Beetle, I agree with Raven. Let's get all the information first."

"All right," sighed Beetle.

Recognizing the urgency, Raven and called out. "Mother Empress, I need your assistance. Trace the source and run data extraction... I want everything."

"Understood, Princess," came the AI's immediate response.

Within moments, Mother Empress infiltrated every system in Dakota City and quickly identified references to 'metahuman' and 'meta-gene' in Alva Industries' secured databases.

"Target identified," Mother Empress reported. "Alva Industries appears to be the source. Downloading all data now."

"Good," Raven nodded, turning to her companions. "Let's also visit Alva Industries and see for ourselves how far their research has progressed."

With both nodding in agreement, the bio-ship changed direction and headed toward the target.

The bio-ship soon positioned itself above the Alva Industries headquarters, remaining cloaked. This time, Raven and Miss Martian prepared to infiltrate, leaving Blue Beetle on standby.

"Ready?" Raven asked.

Miss Martian nodded, placing her hand on Raven's shoulder. She engaged her phasing abilities, and both women became incorporeal, descending through the building's structure until they reached the laboratory level. Once inside, after Mother Empress disabled the cameras, they solidified, having completely bypassed external security measures.

As they surveyed the lab, Mother Empress completed her analysis of the downloaded data.

"Princess, I've completed the analysis of the data," the AI reported in Raven's ear. "Edwin Alva's objective appears to be proving that metahumans can be artificially created. His intent is to weaponize and commercialize the formula to the highest bidder."

Raven's expression turned cold as she relayed Mother Empress's findings to her companions. Blue Beetle and Miss Martian fell silent, their momentary hesitation revealing their internal conflict on how they should proceed.

Yet Raven had already made her decision. Turning slightly away, she whispered to her AI, "Mother Empress, purge all research data from their systems. Then mark the researchers as persons of interest to monitor and release evidence of the company's illegal activities to global media. This can't be the first time they've attempted something illegal. Make it a complete exposure. Destroy their market value. Leave nothing standing."

"Understood, Princess," the AI replied softly. Its subtle acknowledgment was all she needed to know the digital assault had begun.

Dark embers gathered at Rachel's fingertips, coalescing into dark flames on her palm as she raised her right hand. Without hesitation, she hurled the fire toward the laboratory equipment with a swift motion. The dark flames quickly expanded and blazed, consuming everything they touched. Miss Martian tensed, instinctively wanting to intervene, but the memory of Raven's ruthless nature during the Thanagarian crisis kept her silent. The flames left nothing but ash in their wake and, finally, when nothing remained, they extinguished themselves.

With no research material left intact, the two considered their mission complete and returned to the bio-ship in tense silence. As they departed Dakota City's airspace, they left behind a destroyed lab and sent an email to Virgil inviting him to meet with the Teen Titans in Jump City for evaluation. In addition, the message included his blood test results confirming his meta-gene had stabilized and that he would undergo no further transformations.

The following morning, Edwin Alva's world imploded. Reporters swarmed Alva Industries headquarters as the CEO shouted frantically at his staff to implement damage control. The company's stock plummeted in free-fall, with Alva completely bewildered about the source of this perfect storm.

Meanwhile, Virgil stared at his phone screen, hands trembling with excitement and relief as he read the Titans' invitation and reviewed his medical report. Later, walking to school with Richie, his steps were lighter and his mind already set to visit Jump City.

Edwin Alva's Estate - Later That Evening

Edwin Alva sat in his chair, a half-empty glass of scotch dangling from his fingers. His normally elegant appearance had fallen apart—hair disheveled, tie loosened, eyes hollow with defeat. The financial reports on his tablet showed what he already knew, Alva Industries was finished.

"How did everything fall apart so quickly?" he whispered to the empty room. The company he'd built from the ground up, destroyed in a single night.

His mind raced through possible enemies with the capability to orchestrate such a comprehensive attack. Competitors? Industrial spies? The Justice League? None seemed to fit.

"First the destruction of the lab, then the data breach, now this public relations nightmare..." He shook his head. "This level of coordination isn't coincidence. Someone orchestrated this."

In a sudden burst of anger, he hurled his glass against the wall. The glass shattered, leaving liquid dripping down the expensive wallpaper.

His phone rang, cutting through the silence. Edwin glanced at it with contempt, ready to ignore the call until he saw the caller ID. His eyes widened in recognition, and he straightened immediately, composing himself.

"Hello?" he answered, voice careful.

"Mr. Alva," came a smooth, cultured voice. "I hope I haven't called at an inconvenient time."

"Not at all," Edwin replied, suddenly alert. "How can I assist you?"

"You're having quite the day, aren't you?" The voice sounded almost amused. "Stock prices in free fall, confidential information leaked to every news outlet, reporters circling like vultures... and of course, your secure research facility mysteriously destroyed. Quite the streak of misfortune."

Edwin's jaw tightened. "If you've called merely to gloat, I'd prefer you get to the point."

"Temper, temper," the caller chided. "I'm not your enemy, Edwin. In fact, I believe I may be the only lifeline you have left."

Edwin's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "And what exactly would this lifeline entail?"

"First, a question that requires honesty. The Big Bang gas—it was your creation, wasn't it?"

Edwin hesitated, instinctively looking around his empty room before responding. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're—"

"Please don't waste my time," the voice cut in, sharper now. "This is a simple yes or no question. One that determines whether I extend that lifeline or let you drown. Did you create the gas that transformed those teenagers?"

After a long pause, Edwin finally admitted, "Yes."

"There we are. Honesty at last." The voice warmed again. "Here's my proposal: Let Alva Industries burn. It's already beyond saving. Instead, you and your key research team will come work for me. You all will be given new identities and new facilities, but in complete isolation."

The caller continued, "The attack on your lab and company wasn't random, Edwin. I recognize the methodology. Someone powerful has targeted you specifically. To survive, you need to disappear—officially die, as far as the public is concerned."

"Your only objective will be to recreate and perfect the metahuman gas. In return, you'll maintain your lifestyle. You'll have access to your existing funds, my considerable resources, and potentially government backing through a colleague I'm meeting with later."

Edwin's knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrest of his chair. "And if I refuse?"

"Then I wish you luck explaining to federal authorities how your illegal experimentation led to the creation of dangerous metahumans in Dakota City. I imagine prison would be... uncomfortable for a man of your standing."

Edwin closed his eyes, weighing his nonexistent options. After a long moment, he sighed heavily. "It appears I don't have much choice."

"You really don't," the caller corrected pleasantly. "But you're making the intelligent decision. Dismiss your research team tomorrow—make it look like layoffs. Once they're properly... disgruntled, my people will handle the rest. As far as the world will be concerned, you and your key scientists will have tragic accidents within the week."

"Welcome to the team, Edwin. Together, we're going to reshape humanity's future Hahaha."

As the call ended, Edwin sat motionless in his darkening room, realizing he had just made a deal with someone far more dangerous and ruthless than himself. His thoughts turned to his only remaining blood.

"No," he whispered, resolve hardening his voice. "He may be a disappointment, but he's still my son. I've made my bargain with the devil, but I won't drag Junior into this abyss."

With trembling fingers that betrayed his outward calm, Edwin reached for his phone again and dialed his lawyer's private number.

Washington DC - Amanda Waller's Office - Close to midnight

Amanda Waller sat alone in her dimly lit office, reviewing classified reports long after her staff had gone home. The strain of recent weeks showed in the tightness around her eyes, though few would dare mention it to her face. CADMUS's budget had come under intense scrutiny from government oversight committees, but the recent Darkseid invasion had unexpectedly strengthened her position. The modified USS Lexington, a CADMUS project, had performed admirably during the crisis—giving her the leverage needed to push back against her bureaucratic opponents.

Yet recent developments had brought sobering realizations that rendered her victories hollow. The Higher Realm announcement that had shaken Earth had humbled many—Waller included. The existence of entities with such overwhelming power—beings who could enter their system and broadcast globally without triggering a single defense system—was profoundly disturbing. For someone accustomed to controlling every variable, this feeling of helplessness when confronted with anything related to Orach or the Higher Realms was utterly unwelcome.

She could outmaneuver criminals, politicians, and even alien threats from their universe, but against powers like Orach, she was beginning to privately acknowledge their limitations—begrudgingly so. Not that she would ever admit this publicly.

Her thoughts shifted to the report open on her tablet, which detailed a breakthrough. After years of failed attempts and billions in black budget funding, CADMUS scientists had finally found a compatible volunteer for Project Atom. They were extremely close to creating a super-soldier potentially more powerful than Superman himself, one loyal to American interests alone.

Just then a sudden chill swept through the room. Waller looked up quickly as the air before her desk began to whirl and crackle with sparks of electricity. Without hesitation, she reached for her sidearm as a swirling portal materialized and soon a figure stepped through.

"Hel—" The figure began.

Waller fired without hesitation. The bullet grazed the intruder's ear before passing through the rapidly closing portal and embedding itself in the wall behind.

"Well," said Lex Luthor, touching his ear with mild surprise, "I'll take that as you being excited to see me, Amanda."

Waller kept her weapon trained steadily on his forehead. "Shut it, Luthor. What was that, and why are you here?" Her voice was cold.

"Oh, come now, Amanda. Let's—"

Another shot rang out, this time grazing his other ear.

"Straight answers, Luthor," Waller demanded, her aim steady. "What was that, and why are you here?"

Luthor inhaled deeply, controlling the urge to kill this woman in front of him that flashed across his features. Despite seeing both bullets coming with his enhanced perception, he'd allowed them to pass. He couldn't afford to reveal certain capabilities just yet, and he still needed this woman's cooperation.

"Alright," he conceded, his tone measured. "That was my interdimensional portal device at work—a recent invention I've been developing in secret. It allows travel anywhere within our universe and beyond."

He paused, noting with satisfaction how Waller's expression shifted imperceptibly from wary to calculating as she slightly lowered her weapon.

"As for why I'm here," he continued, "I'm proposing we resume our collaboration. One that will benefit us both considerably."

Waller's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "And how exactly do you propose to collaborate with CADMUS when you've been conspicuously either too busy or absent for months? I almost filed you as collateral damage from the recent invasion—perhaps dismembered by one of Darkseid's soldiers."

Luthor's face twitched. "Haha very funny. You've developed a sense of humor since we last spoke, Amanda. How refreshing."

"Enough pleasantries," Waller cut in. "Make your pitch or get out."

Luthor approached her desk with confidence, pulled out a chair without invitation, and sat facing her. "I assume you've been following the situation in Dakota City?"

Waller observed him with cold eyes. She kept her weapon visible but lowered it further, recognizing an opportunity to extract valuable intelligence. Settling back in her chair, she maintained a measured expression. "The metahuman emergence. What about it?"

Luthor's smile widened. "What if I told you I've secured an agreement with the creator of the gas that transformed those teenagers?"

Waller leaned forward, her interest piqued. "So, you've made contact with Edwin Alva. I suspected his involvement but lacked actionable evidence. Was I correct?"

"Yes," Luthor confirmed with a nod. "His original plan was to create artificial metahumans and then auction both the subjects and formula to the highest bidder. Needless to say, such uncontrolled distribution would have been... disruptive to all our plans. So, it's a good thing he failed."

He leaned forward and proposed, "With his lab destroyed and his company in ruins, we have a unique opportunity. We can acquire Alva and his entire research team for virtually nothing. We can stage their deaths—making them victims of unfortunate accidents on paper. Meanwhile, they'll be working for us. Even without their original data, the researchers themselves are the true asset. Given time, they'll recreate the formula—under our complete control."

Luthor's voice dropped to a murmur. "Think of it, Amanda. The super-soldier you've always wanted. Not just one, but potentially an entire battalion of metahumans under your direct command. Imagine presenting that capability to the President."

Waller reclined in her chair, her expression thoughtful as she analyzed the proposal from multiple angles. "Tempting," she admitted finally. "But there's a complication. The attack on Alva's facility and business, it's clearly that monster's work. If Alva is already on his radar, what prevents him from locating Alva again, regardless of how thoroughly we falsify his death? With that ship in orbit and an AI that can penetrate any system on Earth, what facility could possibly remain hidden for long? Even now I have CADMUS members communicate using analog means."

Luthor's expression darkened momentarily. "That AI has been a thorn in my side. It breaches my systems at will, draining millions from my accounts without leaving a trace of evidence I could use against it." Taking a deep breath, he calmed his emotions and with a composed expression tapped the device clipped to his belt. "But that's precisely where my invention proves invaluable. I've already established a suitable facility."

Waller's gaze fixed on the portal device, her mind quickly grasping the implications. "In another universe entirely?"

Luthor's smiled and replied,"Let me worry about the logistics, Waller. Your contribution is simpler—help me orchestrate their disappearances, and secure the necessary government funding. The rest..." he spread his hands widely, "...is already arranged."

Waller considered for a moment, then nodded. "You must have lost a substantial sum if you're seeking government funding in addition to your personal wealth. Very well, I'm in—but I have a condition."

Lex raised an eyebrow and replied, "Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"I want access to your interdimensional portals and want to establish a facility for CADMUS projects. I also want to escape that monster's watch," said Waller.

Lex considered Waller's condition, and after a moment of thought, his lips curved into a confident smile. "You have a deal."

After finalizing a few additional details, their negotiation concluded with a curt nod from both parties. Lex rose from his seat, activated his device, and stepped through the crackling portal that materialized before him.

Alone once more, Waller swiveled her chair toward the expansive windows, gazing at the night sky as she contemplated the possibilities.

"Alternate universes," she murmured, her reflection faintly visible in the glass. "Interesting... really interesting."

Sector 2828 - Vega Star System - Planet Tamaran - Royal Palace

With the downfall of the Green Lantern Corps, a power vacuum emerged across the universe. Only a handful of Lanterns remained, and ambitious forces that had long been held in check now seized their opportunity to rise. In the Vega Star System, two major powers had been locked in conflict: the Citadel Empire, driven by conquest and domination, and the Psions, whose scientific curiosity masked a sadistic appetite for experimentation.

For years, their skirmishes had remained covert, but after the Corps' collapse, their conflict erupted into open warfare. The Psions possessed superior genetic engineering technology, creating formidable soldiers, while the Citadel maintained an edge in interstellar starships.

Through cunning strategy and ruthless execution, Komand'r—once a general of the Citadel who had conquered her homeworld of Tamaran—now seized control of the entire Citadel Empire. After executing its former leader, her first command was to recall and reorganize their forces, shifting from expansion to consolidation and defense. This sudden change in power dynamics sent shockwaves throughout the Vega System.

To Empress Komand'r's surprise, the Psions did not capitalize on this moment of transition. Instead, they too appeared to be adopting a defensive posture. More puzzling still, after a brief period of uneasy peace, they proposed a formal treaty—to be negotiated on Tamaran itself.

While cautiously optimistic about this unexpected development, Komand'r recognized its strategic value. She needed time to cement her control over both Tamaran and the Citadel, especially with reports of resistance movements forming around her escaped sister, Princess Koriand'r. A peace treaty would allow her to focus on internal threats while building her strength.

Though suspicious of the Psions' motives, Komand'r accepted their offer to host negotiations at her palace. She was no fool, however. As insurance, she positioned an elite fleet including a Super Dreadnaught near a key Psion strategic base and hired mercenaries to target other critical locations—leverage for the negotiations ahead.

The Psions had become unusually secretive. Since the Green Lantern Corps' fall, Komand'r's intelligence network had detected only one significant event—a damaged vessel being escorted to the Psion homeworld under heavy guard. After that, no information had escaped their territory.

Adding to the intrigue, days before the scheduled negotiations, a mysterious announcement about a "Tournament of Power" had echoed across the skies of every world in the system. Though uncertain of its meaning, Komand'r remained wary of any power that could reach her world undetected.

On the day of the diplomatic meeting, she declared martial law throughout Tamaran. From her throne, surrounded by her generals, she monitored the approaching Psion diplomatic vessel on a holographic display.

"Empress," ventured General Beren, his expression grave, "the likelihood of this being a trap remains high. The Psions are both cunning and prideful creatures. This sudden desire for peace defies their nature."

Komand'r's eyes narrowed as energy crackled around them—a visible manifestation of her power. "I share your skepticism, General. However, peace with them presently serves our interests. It provides the time we need to crush any lingering rebellion and strengthen our forces before resuming our conquest of the system." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a cold, measured tone. "That said, ensure all contingencies remain in place. If they betray us, I want them to regret it thoroughly."

"As you command, Empress." The general bowed deeply before withdrawing to relay her orders.

Among her other advisors stood Ryand'r, her brother and prince of Tamaran. Though visibly concerned, he remained silent, trusting his sister's strategic acumen to navigate whatever trap might await them.

The Psion vessel touched down on the palace landing platform gracefully. Its hatch opened with a soft hiss, deploying a ramp down which came three Psions accompanied by two masked humanoids in form-fitting black tactical suits. General Beren immediately noted several concerning details: the delegation's emotions were completely unreadable, and the suits worn by the humanoids pulsed with yellow energy patterns. Despite these warning signs, he maintained diplomatic protocol.

"Welcome to Tamaran, honored envoys," General Beren said with a slight bow, his posture remaining alert.

The lead Psion surveyed the assembled honor guard before responding. "I appreciate the... hospitality, General." His reptilian eyes narrowed slightly. "Your Empress is quite the generous host, it seems."

"This reception reflects our respect for these proceedings," Beren replied evenly, studying the lead envoy. To his eyes, the Psions appeared nearly identical—reptilian humanoids with little distinguishing features beyond their attire. Only the envoy's formal diplomatic regalia marked his status.

"I am Pyrrik," the lead envoy announced. "Time is of the essence. Let us not keep your Empress waiting."

"Of course. Please follow me," Beren gestured toward the palace interior.

As they entered the throne room, Empress Komand'r sat regally upon her throne, one hand resting casually on its armrest as she observed their approach. The Psions carried specialized technology that blocked the Tamaraneans' empathic abilities—a precaution learned from previous encounters—allowing them to conceal their true attitudes behind composed exteriors.

The general announced them with formal ceremony as they reached the designated position before the throne.

"Empress, I present Lead Envoy Pyrrik and the diplomatic delegation from the Psion homeworld."

Pyrrik offered a courteous bow. "Your Excellency, I am honored by your gracious welcome."

Komand'r's eyes narrowed with immediate suspicion. The Psions were not known for humility or deference. More concerning were the two masked figures standing silently behind the delegation. Her battle-honed instincts screamed danger as she assessed them, though outwardly she maintained her regal composure.

"Welcome to my home, Lead Envoy," she said, her voice carrying across the chamber. "I must confess my curiosity regarding your leadership's sudden interest in peace."

Pyrrik's reptilian eyelids narrowed momentarily before he chuckled. "Direct and forthright—qualities I appreciate." He met her gaze steadily. "The explanation is quite straightforward. While we excel in certain domains, your empire surpasses us in others. Our conflicts have yielded territorial gains, yes, but at costs neither side can sustain indefinitely. Our primary objective remains the advancement of knowledge and scientific discovery. Continued warfare threatens that mission, potentially leading to mutual destruction. Hence, I stand before you today with this proposal."

He gestured to a colleague who handed him a small device, which Pyrrik placed on a silver tray offered by a waiting servant. After security scans confirmed it contained no threats, the servant knelt before Komand'r, presenting the device.

The Empress activated it, projecting a holographic document detailing the proposed treaty. As she read through the terms, confusion and suspicion warred across her features. She deactivated the display and fixed Pyrrik with a penetrating stare. "Lead Envoy Pyrrik."

"Yes, Your Excellency?" Pyrrik responded, meeting her gaze without flinching.

Komand'r's expression grew solemn. "A treaty, by its very nature, requires compromise between parties. It rests upon a foundation of mutual trust and honest negotiation." She leaned forward slightly. "Yet I find myself perplexed. Which aspects of this proposal represent compromises on our behalf? These terms overwhelmingly favor the Citadel Empire. Am I to believe your intentions are genuine?"

Pyrrik spread his clawed hands. "As I stated, Empress, we Psions desire only to pursue our knowledge, experiments, and research unimpeded. If territorial concessions satisfy your ambitions and secure our peaceful coexistence, we consider that an acceptable exchange." His demeanor shifted, becoming more serious. "However, while we remain open to negotiating most details, once agreed upon, all parties must adhere strictly to the conditions. And I must emphasize—the creation of the buffer zone remains non-negotiable."

After a thoughtful pause, Komand'r tapped her armrest and nodded. "Very well. I agree to open discussions toward a mutually acceptable treaty."

Pyrrik inclined his head. "You are indeed a wise and pragmatic ruler, Empress."

Energy suddenly crackled around Komand'r's form, her eyes glowing with barely contained power. "Careful, Envoy. Some might consider such patronizing praise an insult."

Unfazed, Pyrrik merely scratched his head with a talon. "Then I am fortunate to be engaged in dialogue with an intelligent sovereign who recognizes sincere respect when it is offered."

Several generals tensed, ready to attack at the perceived slight, but Komand'r raised a hand, stopping them. The masked humanoids behind the Psions remained her primary concern. "Let us proceed with the negotiations," she commanded.

As discussions progressed, the treaty evolved—though not substantially, as it already heavily favored the Citadel Empire. However, when the Psions requested three Tamaranean female subjects—specifically including Princess Koriand'r—Ryand'r reacted visibly, prompting Komand'r to silence him with a gesture.

"What purpose would these subjects serve?" she inquired coolly.

"We collect specimens from various humanoid species," Pyrrik explained, "particularly those with unique abilities. We're especially interested in studying the Tamaranean capacity to harness and process energy. We primarily seek unwanted individuals or criminal elements—like the escaped traitor Princess Koriand'r. We would like the opportunity to capture and study her."

Though still suspicious, Komand'r saw an opportunity to eliminate her sister permanently while appearing reluctant. The resistance movements on Tamaran rallied around the hope that Princess Koriand'r would someday return to reclaim her rightful throne. With feigned reluctance and a show of remorse, Komand'r agreed to these terms.

The final agreement established a century of peace between the two powers, the creation of a buffer zone through which no vessels, especially military vessels could pass without reporting to checkpoints, and the transfer of five resource-rich worlds to the Citadel Empire.

Psion Homeworld

Upon returning to their homeworld, the diplomatic party proceeded directly to the Chamber of Elders where the ruling council awaited. The five most distinguished Psions—revered for their intellect and ruthlessness—had gathered to hear the results of the mission.

Pyrrik approached with measured steps and bowed deeply. "Esteemed Elders, I bring news from Tamaran."

Elder Kravik, the most senior among them, leaned forward. "Welcome back, Pyrrik. Were our objectives achieved?"

"Precisely as planned, Elder Kravik," replied Pyrrik, straightening his posture. "The Tamaraneans suspect nothing of our true intentions."

Kravik nodded with satisfaction. "Excellent."

Elder Fyraa, her reptilian eyes narrowing with impatience, "Enough formalities. Did we acquire the specimens? That is all that truly matters."

Pyrrik's thin lips curled into a smile. "The Empress was remarkably accommodating. Two female Tamaraneans are already in our possession, and we have been granted permission to pursue the exiled Princess Koriand'r."

"Magnificent!" Elder Fyraa exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. "These specimens will revolutionize our research. The hybrid potential between Tamaranean physiology and our new servants could produce the perfect warrior species."

Elder Zaria, who had been observing silently, interjected. "I question the necessity of these hybrid experiments when my clone research is yielding such promising results. A pure clone army could be operational within a fraction of the time."

Fyraa glared at Zaria. "Your shortsightedness disappoints me, Zaria. Your clones would give us numbers, yes, but we need quality, not merely quantity," she said coldly. "By combining Tamaranean energy manipulation with our other specimens' absorption abilities, we can create superior warriors." She tapped her tablet, projecting research notes on Tamaranean physiology. "By cloning the females as living incubators, we simultaneously solve our genetic deficiency issues while building a formidable army."

Her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "Just imagine it, Zaria. This army would not merely eliminate the scattered Lantern Corps and Guardian remnants—it could potentially withstand the very cataclysm that fell upon them. All races in this universe will become our specimen pool."

Zaria's eyes flashed with irritation. "There's a fundamental flaw in your approach, Fyraa, is your assumption of compatibility. We've examined countless species, and while Tamaranean physiology theoretically presents an ideal foundation for energy manipulation, there's no guarantee of successful hybrid conception or gestation. My approach guarantees a functional army within a defined timeframe, rather than gambling on hypothetical perfect specimens."

Fyraa gestured dismissively. "What purpose is served by replicating flawed templates? You've witnessed the condition of our existing subjects. Despite their remarkable recovery rates, their genetic deficiencies persist in your clones even after your supposed 'improvements.' Look at the females for example. They are particularly compromised. They can never bear children. If we intend to utilize these rare specimens—the last of their kind—we must perfect the genetic template before mass production. Anything less wastes our resources."

"Enough!"

The sharp command from Elder Zorinn silenced both scientists immediately. All eyes turned to him as he slowly rose from his seat. "Both perspectives have merit," he stated, his voice measured but authoritative. He turned to Zaria. "Your desire to quickly mobilize against the remaining Maltusians is understandable, but Fyraa is correct. We must think strategically about what would benefit us in the long-term. These specimens have survived a harsh dimension and now require genetic refinement to help them stabilize and recover before we can even consider beginning mass production of their clones. Quality must precede quantity." He looked between his colleagues. "What say you, Elders Kravik and Jorth?"

Elder Kravik nodded solemnly. "I concur with your assessment. Patience will yield superior results."

"I agree as well," Elder Jorth added. "We paid a significant price to capture these specimens. Two of our retrieval teams were lost when the subjects harnessed nearby stellar energy." His gaze shifted to the masked humanoids standing behind Pyrrik, their posture unnaturally rigid. "Now that we've established complete neural control over them, we must maximize their potential."

"Then we have consensus," the Elders declared in unison.

"Now, regarding the matter of the fugitive princess," Elder Kravik began, but Pyrrik stepped forward respectfully.

"If I may, honored Elders—I've taken the initiative to contract a specialist for this particular acquisition. His expertise in capturing elusive targets is without equal."

Kravik's expression grew skeptical. "Your proactive approach is commendable, Pyrrik, but your words... have you enlisted... him?"

Pyrrik nodded. "Yes, Elder. I've secured the services of Lobo, the last Czarnian."

Elder Zorinn's expression darkened. "The Czarnian would make a valuable specimen himself, but previous containment attempts have proven... problematic. His unpredictability makes him dangerous to engage directly."

A cunning smile spread across Elder Fyraa's face. "True, but once our enhanced army reaches maturity, not even the Czarnian will elude our grasp. He too will eventually become part of our collection."

Later, as the council dispersed to their laboratories, Elder Zaria walked alone, her mind racing with thoughts. Though she loathed to admit it, the truth was undeniable—genetic defects persisted in their specimens despite her extensive modifications.

Upon arriving in her lab, she recalled a recent anomaly during her experiments. In the youngest subject's genetic structure, she had discovered a deeply embedded marker—dormant until accidentally triggered during an experimental procedure. The momentary activation had caused an exponential surge in energy production, nearly overwhelming their containment systems. The subject had become so volatile that Zaria's finger had hovered over the neural chip's termination control—prepared to sacrifice Fyraa's prized specimen rather than risk catastrophic containment failure.

Then, as suddenly as it emerged, the power surge subsided. The marker returned to dormancy, leaving no trace in subsequent scans—as if the phenomenon had never occurred.

As she walked deeper into her lab, she approached a sealed chamber. Once she scanned her biometrics, the door slid open and she stepped through. Inside, suspended in luminescent regenerative fluid, floated their most valuable specimen—a young male, his unconscious body covered with monitoring devices that tracked every change in his cells.

Zaria's eyes narrowed as she observed the subject, her expression thoughtful. "This genetic marker," she murmured, "if extracted and augmented... then merged with the Tamaranean energy manipulation genome..." Her voice dropped to a whisper as the idea took shape, her eyes widening with excitement. "We wouldn't need crude hybrids at all."

She pulled up an enlarged cellular scan through the console, revealing complex molecular structures. "This specimen may already contain what we need—not a defect, but perhaps an evolutionary advantage. A dormant prime state of its species, perhaps... all that raw energy..."

A smile formed as she initiated a deeper scan sequence and programmed new parameters. "The possibilities are... tantalizing. Perhaps it's time to explore this aspect more deeply."

In the Garden of Forking Ways - Domain of Destiny of the Endless

While events on Earth and the rest of the multiverse continued to unfold, another realm stirred with unusual activity. Within the vast garden, a rare gathering commenced. The seven Endless siblings materialized through their respective sigils—portrait gateways connecting their individual realms.

The seven embodied existence's fundamental aspects: Dream, Death, Desire, Despair, Delirium, Destruction, and Destiny. The siblings' notorious dysfunction typically kept them apart, each attending to their cosmic responsibilities with minimal interference in each other's domains.

Dream of the Endless emerged from the Dreaming, his starfield eyes sweeping across the gathering before settling on Destiny. "Brother," he acknowledged formally, addressing the eldest Endless.

Death stepped forward in her simple black attire, ankh gleaming around her neck. She offered a warm smile that contrasted with the somber mood. "This is a surprise," she said, tilting her head. "Everyone in one place? Something significant must be brewing for you to summon us all, brother."

Desire, with their perfect androgynous form radiating seduction, smirked. "Consider me intrigued, brother," they purred. "Why call for a family reunion?"

Their twin Despair shuffled in silently, gray and naked, her hooked ring leaving small indentations in her flesh.

Delirium twirled into existence, her hair and eyes shifting in rainbow-like colors, bubbles floating around her head. "Hello! Is this a party, brother? I brought butterflies but they turned into thoughts about butterflies which, now that I think about it, might be better anyway. Real butterflies don't taste like butter at all..."

Destruction arrived last, massive and bearded. His presence surprised them all—he had abandoned his realm and responsibilities eons ago. "Don't look so shocked," he rumbled. "Even I answer when the eldest calls."

Destiny stood motionless at the head of a circular stone table that had manifested in the garden. Tall and hooded, chained to the massive book in his hand—one he forever read—he gestured with his free pale hand.

"Welcome, brothers and sisters," his voice resonated in the space. "Please be seated."

One by one, they took their seats around the circular stone table.

Desire leaned forward slightly, curiosity in their eyes. "So, brother," they asked, addressing Destiny, "why have you summoned us?"

Destiny's blind gaze swept across his siblings one by one before settling on Dream who sat opposite him. "You all must have heard the announcement that rang through all existence," he said.

"Ha! Of course," replied an irritated Desire. "That announcement came at the most inopportune time while I was having my fun. Weren't we, sister?"

"Mmm," Despair affirmed with a solemn nod, her hook glinting as she shifted uncomfortably.

The rest simply nodded in agreement, each recalling the moment when the proclamation had echoed across their domains.

"Suffice it to say we all heard it, brother," said Death, her eyes fixing on Destiny. "What's your point?"

"What are your thoughts about it?" Destiny asked, his fingers tracing the edges of his book.

Death raised an eyebrow and answered, "What can we say about it? It's not as if we can interfere with the Higher Realms."

Destiny's grip tightened on his book. "Sister, do you truly think we should let things play out? The destiny of this universe and its lives are no longer recorded in nor under the purview of the Book of Destiny. All because this universe came in contact with that Higher Realm being. It is akin to utter chaos. Now with this 'Tournament of Power' being announced throughout all realities, it is bound to pull lives from other universes and have them come in contact with that being as well. With all lives throughout the multiverse at risk of falling from their destined paths—it would plunge everything into chaos. Do you truly believe we shouldn't interfere?"

Death's eyes narrowed as she addressed her brother. "We all have felt Orach's… rather… Lord Orach's power. Dream and I have personally witnessed it in action. He is an existence that even the Source is wary of. So tell me, brother, how can we even begin to interfere without incurring his wrath? This decree comes from his Higher Realm. I don't see much choice here."

"How can you be so passive, sister?" Desire's eyes flashed with intensity. "The multiverse is already responding to this tournament. I can taste the hunger radiating from countless beings as they prepare to participate. Each life who encounters this Higher Realm being will have their destiny permanently altered. We are the Endless—the embodiments of fundamental aspects of existence itself. Can we truly stand idle while the natural order we represent is being undermined?"

"Oh? And how do you suggest we do that?" asked Death, her interest piqued despite her skepticism.

"By influencing the aspects over which we hold dominion," Desire replied with a flash of arrogance and ambition. "Granted, this being is powerful and beyond our direct influence, but his lover and daughter are part of this multiverse. We could influence them and—"

"Absolutely not!" Death and Dream shouted in unison, their voices resonating through the garden like thunder.

Their unified response startled the others, especially Desire, whose pride visibly bristled at the challenge.

Desire fixed their gaze on Death. "Why not, sister? He needs to be controlled. Let's not forget, he's hunting Perpetua as well. The monster's attack back then left her injured and and is still recovering, yet despite the damage she sustained, he continues his pursuit. Now this move by the Higher Realms will clearly disrupt destinies across existence. If we can influence him through his lover and daughter, we should seize the opportunity."

"Desire," Death said, her expression grave and her tone deadly serious, "let me be blunt. That is a one-way ticket to eradication. Trust me—you do not want to touch those two."

"I agree," rumbled Destruction. "Though I've been in isolation, I've felt that being's power and sensed the devastation he's capable of unleashing."

"I concur," Dream added. "While his actions can be disruptive, having conversed with him and observed him through the dreams of others, I can tell you it's better to be respectful and simply not cross his path. And as our sister witnessed, he respects order as well—just his version of it."

Death nodded. "That's right. He has shown respect for the natural cycle by allowing the deaths of figures that clearly matter to his connections on Earth, despite having the power to prevent them. It shows we can coexist with him. And regarding Perpetua—hasn't the Source tasked Lucifer Morningstar with speaking to Lord Orach about this matter?"

"Lucifer Morningstar is currently preoccupied," interjected Destiny. "A powerful entity has escaped Hell, and he's busy dealing with that situation on Earth. As such, he and that Higher Realm being haven't yet had their conversation."

Death's eyes widened in surprise. "I sensed a disturbance on Earth, but there have been so many disruptions throughout the multiverse lately that I didn't investigate further. Who escaped Hell, brother?"

"The Goddess of All Creation," replied Destiny gravely. "The other half of The Presence."

"…"

A heavy silence fell over the gathering.

All siblings except Delirium, who listened with uncharacteristic quietness, turned solemn at this revelation.

"That mad woman actually escaped..." Desire murmured, their features contorting with concern.

"That woman nearly wiped out all existence once," Destruction said, his massive form tensing. "How did she escape?"

"The more prudent question," Dream interjected, "is what Morningstar is doing about it. I doubt The Presence would be pleased with her roaming about his creation."

"If that's truly the case, I understand why Lucifer hasn't contacted Lord Orach yet," Death said, leaning back in her seat. "Brother, perhaps we should be more concerned about her than the Higher Realms. From what I've witnessed, we lack the power to interfere with them anyway."

"Perhaps..." Destiny conceded. "But if things continue developing as they are, the concept of destiny itself may soon lose meaning."

Silence descended upon the gathering once more, each sibling lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Dream broke the silence.

"There is something else you should know, brother," he said. "It's been on my mind since I spoke with him."

Destiny nodded. "Please say what you have in mind, brother."

"I may be mistaken, but I sense that Lord Orach may be seeking the Book of Destiny." Dream gestured toward the massive tome chained to Destiny's wrist.

"What? He dares consider robbing the Endless?" Desire exclaimed incredulously.

"It's merely speculation," Dream clarified. "He specifically asked if you carried a stone or book."

"Book I get, but why do you say he asked if Destiny carried a stone?" Death inquired, her curiosity evident.

"I don't know the specifics," Dream replied, shaking his head. "But he first referred to the book as an 'anchor stone.'"

"Anchor stone..." Destiny murmured thoughtfully. "I've never heard that term before, nor has the Book of Destiny ever been called such. Nevertheless, it's concerning to hear he might be interested in it."

"But why?" asked Death, confusion crossing her pale features. "Destiny, you yourself said anything related to Lord Orach has its destiny hidden from the Book. Why would a being of his power want it?"

"That's a valid question," Destiny replied, contemplating the possibilities before admitting defeat. "I truly don't know, but regardless, I cannot allow this book to fall into anyone else's hands." He turned to Dream. "Thank you for informing me, brother. Even if it's mere speculation, we cannot ignore it. I'll keep vigilant watch over both the book and my domain."

Dream nodded solemnly. "I'll try to approach him again—perhaps engage him in conversation to gather more information about the tournament. When approached respectfully, he has shown himself willing to reciprocate. Though accessing his dreams directly proves challenging, I might find ways through the dreams of those close to him."

"Thank you, brother," Destiny said with genuine gratitude. "I would appreciate that."

Just then, Death's murmuring caught everyone's attention. "An anchor stone... that suggests function rather than content—as if the Book serves as an anchor for something greater... For reality itself, perhaps?"

Death's eyes flashed as she looked at Destiny. "Brother, we've always understood the Book to record destinies, but what if it serves a more fundamental purpose in stabilizing existence?"

Destruction leaned forward. "Perhaps this being sees something in the Book's nature that we've overlooked."

"Butterfly wings make sounds too small to hear, but they shake up the thoughts that become dreams..." Delirium's rambling suddenly caught everyone's attention. "Sometimes the thing that holds everything together is hidden in plain sight because nobody thinks to look at what's already there..."

The siblings exchanged glances, finding unexpected clarity in Delirium's chaos.

Dream stated, "As planned, I will observe through dreams, gathering what information I can about his intentions."

"We should also monitor the Goddess's movements," Destruction suggested. "Two powerful entities operating outside our influence could prove catastrophic if their aims conflict."

Destiny nodded. "Very well. We shall proceed with caution."

After discussing a few other matters, the gathering dispersed. Dream and Death chose to enter the Dreaming together for a private conversation, while the others returned to their respective domains, each pondering the implications of what they had learned.

Throughout the lower realm, reactions to the announcement varied widely. Some powerful figures remained skeptical, others grew wary, while many immediately began planning to train and increase their strength during the ten-year preparation period. As the announcement spread quickly, it reached not just this realm but countless other Lower realms across existence.