Chapter 8: Physique Change.

10 advance chapters on P@treon.com/Saintbarbido.

-0-

-General P.O.V-

In the cold vacuum of space, a Yellow Lantern ring blazed a trail of fear, its energy crackling like restrained lightning.

It collided briefly with a Red Lantern ring, a comet of seething rage.

For an instant, their energies intertwined, a momentary dance of yellow and red light illuminating the void.

A pulse of information passed between them, simple yet potent: "Avoid the Specter."

And then, just as quickly, they were gone, each ring continuing on its relentless path.

The Red Lantern ring flew off- angry at being denied its host, compelled to reach the edge of the Universe, while the Yellow Lantern ring sought out it's own host.

It's destination? Earth.

(Michael's P.O.V)

A week had passed since the Rider had dealt with Two-Face.

Dismantling his organization was almost too easy.

All it took was finding information on the location of every base or hideout, before turning into the Rider to systematically obliterate everything in a blaze of hell fire.

Dozens of buildings turned to ash. Call it extreme, but I couldn't afford to leave remnants of his crime empire to fester and recover.

The press reported over a hundred dead or driven insane by the vengeful spirit.

Everyone in Gotham now knew about the Ghost Rider.

Some condemned my actions, others praised them. It didn't matter. Two-Face was finished. Now, it was time to find my next target.

Part of me wanted to go after the Joker immediately, to finally get my revenge, but another part—the Rider—wanted to wait. To work my way up, to make the Joker sweat as he saw the ranks of Gotham's criminals fall one by one.

I wanted him to despair, to feel the terror of being hunted. To shatter his already broken mind a million different ways with anguish and suffering.

I wanted him to beg for death, not because he craved it, but because he wanted to escape me. And yet… the torment would never end.

But it wasn't time yet. The Joker was in hiding, likely plotting his next twisted scheme. We'd be ready when he made his move. The Rider was eager to punish someone as evil as the Clown.

In the meantime, I would clean up Gotham, make it a place where families could live without fear.

There were plenty of criminals who had escaped justice for too long. The Penguin, The Mad Hatter, The Scarecrow, Firefly, Bane...the list was long, but not as long as their overdue punishment.

With Batman's fake justice out of the picture, they would face something far worse: true vengeance.

Sweat dripped onto the floor beneath me as I continued doing handstand push-ups in the personal gym within Selina's building.

"567... 568..."

It was hard to believe how much I had changed.

A few weeks ago, even ten push-ups were a challenge. Now, I was doing more than ten times that number, and I still wasn't tired.

It wasn't a lie to say I was beyond normal human limits. The reason why? It wasn't some bleed-over effect from the Ghost Rider.

The real reason was the strange plant-animal hybrid in the corner of the room. A bizarre creation that resembled a potted cactus with vibrant red flowers.

Those flowers were producing biochemical spores in the form of pollen with a sweet, intoxicating scent, releasing them into the room.

The spores induced cellular evolution in any biological organism that inhaled them, resulting in stronger and longer-lasting telomeres.

In basic terms, the more strain I put my body through(while breathing in the spores), the stronger my physique became.

The plant-animal hybrid's true identity? The Martian Manhunter.

Using his shape-shifting ability, I had him transform into a form that could enhance the results of my training. My theory was simple: the stronger my body, the more of the Ghost Rider's power I could hold.

The progress meter had increased, now stuck at 61%. The 1% was thanks to J'onn.

It was a good thing the Rider had effectively overwritten the Martian Manhunter's personality.

Now he was my dragon Hell Ride, J'onn. Loyal to a fault, while also possessing Manhunter's powers and skills.

Speaking of the devil,

"Master Michael, I sense an energy signature sweeping through Gotham. It seems to be scanning for a mind...much like my own."

J'onn informed me through our mind-link.

"Much like your own? Must be the League trying to locate their teammate, the Martian Manhunter."

I answered, throwing a curious look his way.

I wondered how much of the original Manhunter still remained within him.

"Are you not interested in rejoining your friends and teammates, J'onn?"

I asked.

"I am a tool for you to exact vengeance and punishment on those who rightly deserve it, Master Michael. Nothing more."

He answered without hesitation, honesty ringing through the mind-link.

"Good."

I nodded, pushing off the floor and landing on my soles,

"That makes it 1,000 pushups. Training is over for the day, you can change back, J'onn. Thanks for the enhancement."

The potted plant squirmed before molding into a dark-skinned man in a suit, slightly resembling Lawrence Fishburne. Suck on that Bruce Wayne, I got a butler too.

J'onn walked over and handed me a towel while I stretched before the wall mirror.

The slim physique I had always had from my teens had withered even further after getting an office job.

But now, I was no longer a hunched, almost middle-aged family man working 9-5 all week. My body was starting to fill with muscle, and I stood upright at my full 6'2" height.

With blue eyes that Sarah had once described as electric, long dark hair, and the beard I hadn't bothered to shave for the past month, I looked better than I had in most of my life. I felt good too, though I reeked of sweat.

Time to hit the shower, I suppose. Selina had this incredible bathtub that I loved to submerge in after a workout.

"Inform me when Jimmy comes back."

I threw over my shoulder, headed for the washrooms.

"Of course, Master Michael."

J'onn replied in a steady tone.

I stopped before the door, looking back with a scrunched nose,

"Oh, and J'onn, call me Michael when I'm not in my Rider form. Leave the 'Master' stuff for when It comes out."

J'onn's face showed a little reluctance before he agreed,

"As you wish...Michael."

I nodded in approval and went in.

The Rider was a tool to be used for my goals, much like J'onn.

It would serve me well to draw a line between both personas—keeping Michael and Ghost Rider separate. Lest I lose my sense of self and drown in It.

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"Ooooh, that's the spot..."

I moaned as my tired shoulders sank into the hot bath.

My mind drifted away into the place it usually did when I was alone. Memories of my family.

Sarah and Emily's faces were forever imprinted on me. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see them. I wondered if they were looking down at me from Heaven.

"Hi, in need of some company?"

A sultry voice cut through my ruminations.

"Selina! What the hell are you doing in here?!"

I flailed upright, spraying water around as the dark-haired vixen snickered down at me, the towel wrapped around her lithe body straining against her sizable chest.

"I needed a bath and you took the only one available, so we're sharing."

Shrugging, she dropped the towel, leaving her completely nude before climbing into the tub with me while I openly gaped.

And if I didn't make it clear before, Selina was the definition of sinful beauty. Just a naked glance of her had me at half-mast, gulping at the way the water glistened on her thighs and hips...

With a sly smirk, she slowly lowered herself further into the tub, moaning in relaxation,

"Oh, that feels sooo good."

Fuck. That's it, now I had a raging boner. And a lot of mixed emotions.

"J'onn! Why didn't you warn me she was coming?!"

I demanded through the mind-link.

"Forgive me, Michael. Your mind was giving off a 'do not disturb' psychic vibe. I assumed you were busy."

The Martian answered, before adding,

"She also requested I keep my mouth shut or I would be turned into cat food."

'Dammit, J'onn, just admit you fell for her charms. I would understand. Selina can be very huh...convincing.'

J'onn went suspiciously quiet.

Luckily, I had reverted to my crippled self before she came in (it wasn't the first time she turned up unannounced while I was cleaning up).

"Don't look so glum, Mikey. Here..."

I stiffened as she grabbed something long and hard.

"Let me help wash you..."

Dammit, Selina.

-0-

Jimmy's life had taken a turn for the absurd.

From working for Two-Face, to getting his whole crew decimated, and now finding himself working for the man—or rather, monster—responsible for it all.

He didn't have much say in it- afterall, threatening someone with a fucking Dragon made for a very convincing recruitment pitch.

Such was the life of a mere goon. At least his new boss was higher up on the Totem pole of villains. Or is it vigilantes? Anyway, the Ghost Rider had done something that Two-Face had never achieved- scaring the Bat away. So in a way, Jimmy had upgraded from a mere goon to a pseudo-sidekick.

Did he feel bad about selling out the rest of Two-Face's bases? A little. But in the end, it was either his life or theirs. And above all, Jimmy was learning to look out for number one.

Maybe that's why he was here, in a seedy, dimly lit bar, searching for information on the whereabouts of other high-profile Batman villains. To feed to the Rider.

Normally, this would be easy. The Rogues usually didn't bother hiding when Batman was missing in action. But this time it was different.

According to his contacts,

everyone was terrified of the Ghost Rider. The Penguin, Mr. Freeze...they'd all gone underground. Even the crazies like Firefly and Joker were suspiciously quiet.

Jimmy was going to have to hit another place. Perhaps he would get lucky and point the Rider to Victor Zsazz. Gotham was better off without that maniac.

Drowning the last contents of his glass, he left his table, navigating the too-empty bar and headed for the door.

As he reached the exit, a voice stopped him.

"Excuse me stranger, got a light?"

A man dressed in a black jacket with an ivy cap on his head and a scruffy beard asked. A cigarette dangled between his lips.

Jimmy tensed.

"Who are you?"

"Relax. Name's Joe Chill."

The man's voice was rough, like gravel scraping against pavement.

Jimmy eyed him warily, but pulled out his lighter, flicking it on with a practiced hand. The tiny flame danced at the tip of the man's cigarette, searing the end.

Chill took a slow, deliberate drag, exhaling the smoke with a casual side glance. Jimmy's gaze sharpened, suspicion blooming inside.

"Heard you're in the market for some information."

Chill said, his tone low and measured.

"I might know something—if the price is right."

Jimmy pocketed his lighter, stepping past the man.

"You've got the wrong guy."

He hesitated, turning back to study Chill's face, then added, with a smirk,

"And a tip for next time, 'Joe Chill': when you're playing dress-up, don't just act like you fit in. The disguise is solid, but you ain't fooling anyone, detective."

Chill's expression didn't falter, but his stance tightened, a subtle shift that confirmed Jimmy's suspicion.

'Gotcha,' Jimmy thought as he scoffed, striding down the street until he was out of sight.

Without a second's delay, he ducked into an alley and broke off into a sprint.

He didn't know if the cop was tailing him or someone else, but he couldn't risk sticking around. He had to get back to the Rider.

The end of the alley was in sight when suddenly, he was yanked off his feet, finding himself hoisted up onto a fire escape.

"Wha—? You?!"

Jimmy's shock turned to dread as he found himself staring into the cold, unforgiving eyes of Batman.

"You're coming with me."

The Dark Knight growled.