The tenuous partnership emerging between Umbra and the emerald beast pressed thick within the dust-filled atmosphere of the ruined warehouse, a frightful new dynamic that moved the current threat from random anarchy to something potentially even more lethal and sinister. The raw, primeval rage that had fueled the altered Conner appeared to briefly abate before the cloaked sorceress, giving way to a bizarre, near-instinctive familiarity, a reflection of the chaotic forces now running through both of them.
Umbra, her emerald eyes blazing with a heart-freezingly intense concentration, reached out a shadow-wreathed hand toward the emerald beast. The beast, its armored skin still humming with unstable power, paused for a harrowing instant, its throaty snarls fading to deep, rumbling growls. Then, incrementally, purposefully, it dipped its great head, bumping its snout against Umbra's darkened hand. A weak current of emerald power coursed from the monster to the sorceress, mingling with her dark aura, a tacit agreement sealed in the depths of devastation.
You see, don't you?" Umbra's twisted voice boomed across the destruction, a curious blend of victory and a sickening gentleness. "They wanted to dominate you, to define you. But we… we are not in their control. We are the rightful heirs of chaos.
In their tenuous watery domains, the younger members of Young Justice observed this unnerving exchange in a combination of dread and incredulity. The expectation that Conner might be talked down from, that his metamorphosis would prove transitory, lessened with each second of this wordless communion.
"This is bad," Wally breathed, his voice quivering a little. "Really, really bad. It's like they're… bonding."
Robin, his brain racing frantically in the sweltering blackness and under the crushing burden of debris, weighed the situation with icy strategic calculation. "Umbra is no longer just unleashing randomness. She's trying to command it, to turn it into a weapon through Conner."
Aqualad, his compassion extending to the tainted clone even through the turbulent barrier, felt a twinge of sadness and an increasing sense of urgency. "We need to get to Conner. There must be something that can disrupt this bond."
Outside, inside Zatanna's straining magical barrier, there was a feeling of tension. The change in the wild energies, the seeming partnership between Umbra and the emerald beast, was a threat of much greater magnitude than the unleashed rage they had first encountered.
"Michael," Zatanna spoke, her voice taut with worry, "what do we do? Direct magic is useless against Umbra, and now Conner…"
Michael, his eyes scanning the disturbing scene before them, felt a characteristic burden of responsibility fall upon his shoulders. The turbulent energies, the twisting of stories, the risk of irrevocable corruption – these were powers he knew too well.
"Trapped," Michael said, his tone low and somber. "But desperation begets ingenuity, and ingenuity. can give birth to escape." His mind started racing, rummaging through the rules of Libriomancy, looking for a hidden flaw in the chaotic story that had trapped Conner and fueled Umbra.
"Their partnership," Michael went on, his brow creased in thought, "it is born of chaos, but even chaos has a twisted logic, an inner instability of its own. Umbra wants control, but genuine chaos cannot be controlled. There could be a way to take advantage of that inner contradiction."
While Michael was talking, Umbra refocused on the imprisoned heroes, a menacingly assured smile creeping over her dark face. The green beast stood next to her, a brooding, ominous sentinel, its bright eyes watching over their aquatic cages.
Your efforts at imposing order are useless," the twisted voice of Umbra resonated among the wreckage. "The world will welcome the lovely anarchy that I am about to bring. And you. you will be the first to behold its wondrous rise.
With a toss of her wrist, Umbra released a wave of concentrated chaotic power, but not against their defensive shields, against the already strained supports of the fallen warehouse. The creaking metal screamed again, and the debris overhead creaked ominously, ready to collapse a second time and bury them beneath its crushing weight.
"Bury us deeper!" Robin's voice crackled over their comms, his voice a racing panic. "We have to go, now!"
The water spheres, while guarding against crushing pressure, provided minimal mobility. Aqualad pushed his Atlantean biology to its limits, trying to push his sphere through the solid rubble, but the resistance was too great.
I cannot propel us in this wreckage!" Kaldur'ahm exclaimed, his words wrenched by sheer effort. "The pressure is too immense!"
Zatanna's magical shield, although still holding against the immediate danger of dropping debris, was draining her powers quickly. The feedback from raw uncontrolled chaotic magic in the atmosphere was rendering it ever harder to keep a stable barrier.
"I can't hold this much longer!" she gasped, her voice weakening. "We need a way out… fast!"
Michael's thoughts sped against the clock of their impending burial as he concentrated on the relation between Umbra and the green beast. He felt a thin cord of influence, a sort of subtle control of the beast's anarchic energies exercised by the sorceress. Real chaos could not be really controlled, and that natural resistance could be their sole hope.
"Zatanna," Michael instructed, his voice taking on a note of desperate determination. "Can you cause a localized distortion of the surrounding magical field? Something… discordant. Enough to break Umbra's hold on Conner temporarily?"
Zatanna, comprehending the desperate risk, nodded sourly. "It will be dangerous. It might destabilize everything."
"We have no other option," Michael replied, his eyes locked on the emerald creature and its shadowed master. We have to disrupt their link, just for an instant. That could be our only hope of contacting Conner… or of escaping this falling mausoleum." The beginnings of a desperate scheme had been planted, a tenuous strand of hope threaded into the asphyxiating blackness of their confinement. The orchestra of dissonance had come to its climax, and the cost of their valor could be their own lives.