Life is a Movie #28

As Ted Kord held the ring, examining it like it was the latest gadget from his favorite sci-fi movie, I rolled my eyes internally. Of course, Mr. Scientific Skepticism wasn't going to just take my word for it. Oh no, he needed a grand performance of truth-detection verification.

First, he made me wear the ring, turning our conversation into a bizarre game of "Truth or Dare, Superhero Edition." Honestly, I was tempted to throw in a few dares just for kicks, but I stuck to the script. Then, Kord, with a newfound seriousness, put on the ring and had me turn into the grand wizard of tall tales, conjuring up obvious lies and half-truths for him to see if the ring would call my bluffs.

We even took our little experiment on a field trip. He left the room, handed me a phone, and asked me to spin a web of deception through the wires. If there was a diploma for mastering the art of lying through technology, I'd have earned it that day.

Several hours later, after what felt like a cross between a sitcom plot and a sci-fi thriller, Kord finally seemed convinced. Whether his inner scientist geeking out took over at some point or if it was merely his suspicion that fueled his enthusiasm, I didn't really know or care. I was just glad it was over. 

Though I suppose I shouldn't complain. If it weren't for my enhanced acting and persuasion skills, then Kord would have probably long since kicked me out of his office and ran to the League like an overzealous little brother to tattle on me, never mind even consider putting on the ring. 

Marveling at the ring like it was a precious gem he'd just unearthed, Kord's fascination made me fight the urge to mime a facepalm. "If you're quite done with the tech gawking, can we get back to business?" I thought, keeping my poker face intact.

With a sigh that hinted at lost playtime with his new toy, Kord shifted gears. "Alright, enough fooling around. Tell me, how do I meet my maker?" he asked, his tone somber, eyes piercing mine.

I nodded, ready to spill the beans, but not the entire bag. "Picture this – a shipment of Kryptonite goes missing from Kord's Omniversal's top-secret stash," I began, weaving a tale that felt straight out of a superhero noir. 

"You get this itch of suspicion, call in your Justice League pals for a favor. They play it down, but a few reluctantly join your detective escapade. Days pass, they throw in the towel, shrugging off the mystery. You, on the other hand, can't shake that gut feeling."

I paused for dramatic effect, because who doesn't love a good cliffhanger?

"Turns out, your instincts were spot-on. Unraveling the mystery becomes your last crusade. The twist? Being right costs you more than just a sleepless night. You uncover a huge conspiracy, and the master behind it is non too pleased by the fact you uncovered them..." I concluded, letting the tension linger.

"Kryptonite theft, League skepticism, and a one-man investigation... sounds like the plot of a B-movie," he muttered, half-amused and half-pensive.

I couldn't help but smirk. "Life's a B-movie sometimes, Ted. Only, in this one, you're the star, and the plot twist is a killer."

He nodded, a hint of gravity settling in his expression. "I've always known my nosiness might catch up with me one day. But, hearing it from someone who claims to be from another universe, well, it's a new one for me."

I leaned back in my chair, thinking about how I'd just delivered a possible death sentence with the same nonchalance as ordering coffee. The cosmic irony wasn't lost on me.

"So, what's my move, then? Get a dog, hire a bodyguard, retire to a deserted island?" Kord joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Kord's eyes widened with a mix of awe and trepidation as he listened to my prediction. One might think he would show some fear or shock, but no, he just seemed amused and curious by the entire situation. 

However, he couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes at the revelation that his Justice League buddies' dismissiveness cost him his life. 

"So, what's my move, then? Get a dog, hire a bodyguard, retire to a deserted island?" Kord joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

I chuckled. "Maybe all of the above, maybe none. It told you the future, and it's up to you whether you want to run from it or fight it..." I said, wishing I had two different colored pills, preferably blue and red, to offer him just about now. "But if you wish to fight, I can help you..."

Kord quirked an eyebrow in my direction. "That Apokoliptan tech cache you were talking about?" he mused. "Wish it were that simple... Apokoliptan outposts, even the abandoned ones, boast some serious tech defenses," he continued. 

Meanwhile, my relationship status with him pinged from Hostile to Curious, and a notification chimed in with another batch of points. Right on time!

"There's no need to worry about the defenses," I said, standing up and dramatically placing my hand on the office wall. "I wouldn't come to you without preparing something in advance!" I quipped, activating my newly acquired skill.

Electric arcs crackled and danced along my hand, making me feel like a budget superhero, but hey, it got the job done. The arcs slithered into the wall, and like a magician pulling off a trick, the lights in the office blinked out, plunging us into darkness. 

The sudden blackout even silenced the hum of electronic devices, leaving us in a momentary void without any technology. 

"And now, for my next trick, we'll make the lights reappear," I declared, enjoying my brief stint as the Dark Knight of office utilities as the lights went back on. 

Kord's expression wavered between amusement and disbelief. "Well, I can't say I expected a blackout in the middle of a business meeting, but with this... we'll definitely be able to get into any Apokoliptan out posts..." He said, smiling as he gathered his bearings. "Fine... I'm convinced. Tell me what you want in exchange, and what do you need?" 

...

In the dimly lit, high-security confines of Belle Reve, Amanda Waller sat at her imposing desk, surrounded by the eerie glow of monitors displaying records of notorious super villains. Her steely gaze scanned through the data, fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk. 

A knock echoed through the room, and without looking up, Waller barked, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and one of her aides cautiously stepped inside, a sheaf of papers clutched in his hands. "Reporting on Livewire, ma'am," he said, his tone betraying a hint of nervousness.

Waller peered over her reading glasses, fixing an intense stare on the aide. "Have you arranged her transfer to Belle Rve? We can't afford delays."

The aide shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, ma'am, there's a bit of an issue. Livewire has legal representation, and they're pushing for an early parole. The transfer can't happen right now."

A low growl escaped Waller's throat as she leaned back in her chair, frowning. "What do you mean, can't happen? I need her here, and I need it done fast."

The aide swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "I'm sorry, ma'am. The lawyer is making things difficult. Livewire won't be coming to Belle Reve anytime soon."

A scowl etched across Waller's face as she dismissed the aide with a curt nod. "Leave."

As he hurriedly exited, Waller muttered to herself, "Livewire's powers will be crucial for the upcoming mission. I can't afford to wait." She reached for the phone, dialing a number with determined precision.