I slumped into the booth of a busy pizzeria. The beeps, whistles, and horns of arcade machines were as incessant as they were annoying, and I'd likely be in a better mood if I had not had a full day with no success. A maze of entrances, exits, exterior hallways, interior walkways, and more mixed like a patchwork mosaic in my mind, one that I could no longer parse.
Aggregor and my other trainers among the rebellion had not been detectives – highly-detailed investigations were not within their purview. What scouting I had had to do back then usually included a period of tech-based information gathering beforehand, and the tools back there were more limited in many ways than they were here on Earth.
I didn't have any other super-tech tools at my disposal. No Batcave database to scrounge, no Fortress of Solitude AI to beg for assistance. Not even an Oracle of Delphi to question. The Plumber badge had a direct connection to the Sector House's AI, but I had limited access without full Plumber authority and the Plumber suit to go along with it. As far as the organization was concerned, I was doing a favor for Gabriel by investigating this, not operating under their thumb.
So… I had to rely on web searches and my own two eyes for hours, which meant sweaty, exhausted muscles sticking to the plastic lining of a shitty booth. The two pizza boxes in front of me were properly greasy, the cheese extra gooey, and the smell that wafted from the half a pizza left nearly brought tears to my eyes.
I was halfway through my fifth slice of supreme when it hit me like a truck.
This was my first pizza in my entire second life.
I'd been on Earth for months now, and I had not treated myself to one of life's greatest treasures. I primarily stayed in New York City no less, and it took me trying whatever Central City could cook up first? A long day of staking out potential locations for this kidnapping attempt, and pizza for the first time was my reward?
When the crunch hit my teeth just right, emotions welled to the surface. I missed this, missed this so much. Flashes of memory flew across my mind. Playing arcade games with my brother at a pizza buffet. That one X-Men fighting game from the late 90s, and the TMNT side-scroller. The wistful memories of what my real childhood had been like, and… I frowned as I looked around the room.
I wanted – no. I pushed the feelings down, trying to focus on just enjoying the taste, the smell, and not the melancholy mix of emotions.
Huh.
My fingers itched for the burner phone in my pocket and then frowned as the screen clicked on, revealing the only number I'd programmed inside it. I'd found it in the phonebook, shortly after I'd uncovered them, and… I couldn't help myself but to program it. Truthfully, I had the digits memorized and didn't need the phone at all, but I stared at the contact information just the same.
The home landline of my parents.
Not of Osmos V, but of the equivalent man and woman in this universe.
When I visited their home weeks ago, I couldn't go through with speaking to them. They had had a life without me, an entire life with another child instead, and the idea that they might be enjoying their own cheesy crust and arcade games right now?
I pushed the feelings away and deleted the contact.
With a fidget of my fingers, the Plumber badge slid onto the table in front of me. Activating voice controls, I began to speak.
"I know you won't see this for a while, but I hope all is well. Things here are going smoothly, at least, as smoothly as I'd hoped. I've made some contacts, I've put myself out there. It hasn't all been perfect – I've created some larger problems than I expected in a short time. But… well, I can't stop now. Say hello to Jula for me, and keep looking out for Marcilia. If you – if you get a chance, let me know how things are going. With her, with you, with… everyone."
I had more I wanted to say, and more I wanted to know from him, but my Father was on the other side of the universe. These messages would take a significant time to reach his badge, and I hoped to hear things were going well despite the distance lag. Good news, not bad news.
If something horrific happened to Osmos V again, Gabriel swore I'd be the first to know it.
I finished the second pizza among the din of a busy arcade, wondering how I'd managed it despite the exhaustion and the emotions of the moment.
CENTRAL CITY
JUNE 16, 02:57 UTC -5
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Wally kicked the machine with more than a bit of frustration, his foot impacting Superman's chest. The decal on the side of the pinball game depicted Superman and Wonder Woman in a triumphant pose against nebulous villains, and it amused Wally to no end that the machine's entire schtick was themed after what the public thought they knew of the Justice League.
Dick munched on a cloud of cotton candy, his third in the last hour, and Wally almost lightly kicked the other kid. "And I thought I had a sweet tooth."
"Oh, this doesn't compare." Dick jabbed the sweet treat toward some truly sweet giggling girls. "The blonde won it for me."
A pretty girl made eyes at Dick and then giggled to her friends when she noticed.
Wally's jaw fell open. "Dude! You're supposed to do that for them."
"I think they're high school girls," Dick said with a laugh. "I told 'em I didn't know how to play, and they were quick to teach me."
Wally almost sped over to them to try his luck. Instead, he shoved Dick's shoulder. "Damnit, dude. Why didn't ya tell me!?"
"For this exact reaction, my guy." Dick laughed.
Wally was halfway to a comeback story, to go up to girls closer to his own age and show them how a real man wins his lady a prize. Decision made, he made a single step before Dick caught his shoulder and whirled him around on his heel.
"What do ya see?"
"Not the chicks!" He fought to turn, but Dick was insistent.
"Try again."
Wally, frustrated, tried to indulge the kid.
A crowd of folks moving in and out of the arcade. Hot pizzas brought to the tables. The view through the windows showing the street beyond. The menu board flickering back and forth between dinner options and arcade ticket prizes. A goofy cartoon bat animatronic.
"Haha, yeah, very funny. Guess your mentor has a presence on my mentor's turf."
Dick rolled his eyes. "No, dipshit, but huh. Duly noted. Corner booth, staring at the wall."
Wally followed the instructions and peeked through throngs of people the corner booth. Sitting there alone was a blond kid, dressed in sweats. He was completely unremarkable, and Wally had no-
"That's him."
"Him who?"
"Him, him. The flying guy in Manhattan."
Wally's heart skipped a beat, then his voice lowered considerably. "Dude. He can hear us!"
Dick's eyes measured the distance between them and the guy. "Through a noisy arcade? Not a chance."
"But he's-"
"Not the big guy's son."
Wally had a passing interest in the other heroes operating around the world. Most of them had folded into the structure of the League or were mentored by a Leaguer, though independent heroes were, of course, around. They didn't get much attention from anyone who cared, and Wally normally wouldn't pay that much attention. But the kid had the whole Superman package and then some! Rumors were so rampant.
"How would you know that!?"
"C'mon, isn't it obvious? Superman wouldn't let a kid like that go out on his own without proper training. He's got two near international incidents under his belt, he's not in Metropolis, and his eye blasts are different."
"I can think of a dozen answers to explain each of those." Wally admitted to himself that they were convincing, but more confusingly…
A nagging thought shot like a knife through Wally's heart.
"Why is he here?" Then. "Why are you here at the same time?"
Dick cleared his throat. "Wally, we have been tailing him since mid-afternoon."
The redhead seethed as the thought hit him. "I thought you wanted to hang out while you were in town."
"I did. We were just also doing this, on the side."
"If you'd have told me, I'd have brought my things. We could-"
"Have provoked him before we learned anything about him?" Dick interrupted, and Wally conceded that point. "The guy can fly around the world in a few minutes. We'd lose him."
Oh. Ohhh.
He's that fast.
"All right, fair. What are we doing, then?"
"Figure out what he's doing here," Dick answered. "He left New York for a reason, for longer than a quick trip. Might be something big going down, might not. He's cased several places, expecting something to hit, and we should expect something too."
Wally considered where Dick had led him throughout the day, and the kinds of places they'd been or passed along the way.
"I'll call Barry. I'm sure he-"
Dick clapped the redhead on the shoulder. "Let's look into it ourselves. How cool would it be for us to show our mentors what we've learned?"
Wally blinked.
Then he beamed.
CENTRAL CITY
JUNE 16, 03:19 UTC -5
TEAM YEAR ZERO
I shambled into the roadside motel bedroom with a frustration that seeped into my bones. The accommodations were simple – nothing fancy – and I'd lucked out that a place that wouldn't check identification too closely hadn't been rat-infested. I only needed the place for a couple hours to push through the fatigue, and hey, my powers had another benefit.
I could turn to stone and sleep to avoid any bedbugs.
The last time I'd slept in armor had been during one of the Reach air raids. Triarch planes dropped Reach-tech bombs onto the populace, forcing total war tactics to quell a riot before it could spill out of hand. I'd spent that night among the team trying to convince a group to rebel, to riot, and all we had received for our efforts had been a city district piled on top of us in rubble. By morning when I had finally released my stony armor, I'd survived the crushing weight of the building.
Precious few others had.
Something yellow caught my attention amidst the drab colored decor.
A business card on my pillow.
A series of thoughts raced across my mind, and I nearly abandoned the room altogether. A well-placed sniper round could bypass any sense of durability I naturally had, with or without any material armor. A series of traps, hidden cameras, audio bugs – anything and everything could be here, and more. Before I stepped any closer, I checked the shadows for a half-second to ensure that there were no cloaked Reach soldiers, whose active camouflage could put you in harm's way in moments without your notice.
Nothing.
Nothing obvious.
I pulled at the frame of the bed with a single exposed toe, taking on metallic armor, before I approached the card to read it.
"How do we address you? Do you have a calling card?" was stretched across the front in tight, handwritten script. Then, on the back, "Come to the roof of the Weisman Vietti Plaza building. We should meet, exchange information."
Then, at the bottom, "Signed – the Good Guys." In another person's lazy, sloppy handwriting, "We swear!" And next to that was a yellow symbol like a bolt of lightning.
Heh.
I reached for the lamp and pulled, electricity jolting through my body for a mere fraction of a second. Even for just that small moment, the effort was enough to make every light fixture in the room flicker with exertion. I did not take enough to overwhelm my system, just enough to gain renewed vigor and wash the exhaustion from my muscles and bones.
The high was immaculate. A jolt of caffeine to the utmost degree and then some.
I pushed through the feeling, through the nigh-subconscious desire for more, and lifted from the floor. Once the window opened, I let the metal defense fall away and slipped through and into the night sky of Central City's outskirts. A quick scan with my eyes later, and I floated down in a wide arc atop the right building.
A classic skyscraper meeting between heroes was right up my alley.
The building overlooked a wide part of the western half of the city, and while it was not the tallest around, it provided a nice view of the river and the baseball stadium far below.
Hm.
I didn't think to check the stadium. Maybe- maybe that would-
"Hi!"
"We've heard a lot about you. What are you doing on my turf?"
My eyes widened as the two revealed themselves in emblematic fashion for each of them. The former was just there, filtering out of the shadows as he unfurled a dark cape, revealing a tactical crimson uniform with yellow accents and no green booty shorts. The latter blurred into view with a flurry of speed-created wind, the tight yellow uniform sleek and unarmored in comparison to his friend.
I grinned, surprised to see how young Robin was in this universe. Damian Wayne or someone else? While this Kid Flash was certainly either Wally West or Bart Allen with that bright red hair.
"I'm not interested in any turf," I argued, holding up the card between my fingers. "Classic trick, by the way. I don't know what you'd have done if housekeeping had found it before I did."
Robin leaned back, contemplative. "Noted and considered, but by then, it wouldn't have been relevant."
"How'd you track me down?"
The Boy Wonder shrugged, but the speedster answered. "You aren't exactly difficult to follow if someone knows to look for you."
I considered it for a second and then frowned. "How long have you been trailing me?"
"Most of the day," Robin answered. "We even had time to get a few frames of bowling in and still catch up with you."
I wasn't sure how to react, knowing they'd been following me. Why? Batman had an in with the Lanterns, the Lanterns had an in with Gabriel. If Bruce wanted a talk, wanted a discussion, why resort to this?
Hmm.
"Must be easy to follow someone with Kid Flash at your side," I suggested with a half-chuckle.
"I may have used my speed a little," the redhead offered. "But you still haven't answered the question."
I considered for a second how important I should be with information security. This wasn't Osmos V, though – the stakes were not as high. I cleared my throat. "My contact says Intergang is here, ready to do something big with off-world tech. They're working through a criminal biker gang."
Robin, through his domino mask, blinked as he took in the information. "Those brokers? They're bad news, this far from Metropolis."
"They do far more than work in Metropolis," I argued, remembering Gabriel's Intel. "Their reach is international, and their tech is unpredictable and dangerous."
Kid Flash tapped his chin. "Going after Intergang is a tall task for a rookie-"
"Not even remotely a rookie," I shot back quickly. "I've been doing this kind of job for years. Haven't been around here for long, but I've been fighting the fight longer than you."
"Dude. You're younger than me."
"So is Robin. Your point?" I didn't actually know if I was physically younger than Kid Flash, but I looked it. Osmosians age rather gracefully compared to humans, and live a hell of a lot longer.
"We are getting sidetracked," Robin interjected. "What else do you know?"
"This biker gang have high-tech and powerful automated drones. I've seen footage of them in action, and they're completely out of context for police or standard response protocols. We take them out, the gang falls quickly."
Kid Flash nods. "Good plan. Know where they are? We can help bring the fight to them."
I felt the frustration of today seeping into my cheeks again. "I appreciate the chance for an assist. I haven't found them yet. I've narrowed the list down to certain categories of places where they could-"
"Get an audience," Robin guessed. At my surprise, he continued, "Based on your trail today, man. You're thinking they will hit someone high profile. Demand money, show off their tech, use those resources to get more business for Intergang."
I smiled at the fledgling detective. "That follows, yes. Impressive."
"More impressive, maybe, but I think I know what they're planning."
Kid Flash turned on his fellow sidekick. "What?"
"They're going to kidnap the special guest at the Diamonds game," Robin guessed. "If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. But I'd bet money that they will try to kidnap Bruce Wayne."89