Alien Technology

The Mantra Lasso was one of the most iconic tools in Wonder Woman's arsenal. Blessed by the ancient Greek gods, the magical rope could compel anyone bound by it to tell the truth. Lying wasn't an option. Silence wasn't an option. Even the strongest wills in the universe couldn't resist its power.

Batman's version wasn't magical—he didn't rely on gods or divine blessings. Instead, his Noose of Mantra was a feat of technology, mimicking the effects of Wonder Woman's artifact through advanced neural feedback and polygraph technology. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. In Batman's hands, even this "low-end imitation" was a powerful tool.

The Insider Armor, which housed the Noose, was a technological masterpiece. It couldn't quite rival the full capabilities of the Justice League's members, but it simulated enough of their powers to make Batman a one-man army when the situation called for it.

And this was one of those times.

The man's armor was shattered, sparking and useless. He lay on the ground, pinned by the dark silhouette of Batman looming over him. In one swift motion, Batman tore off the man's helmet, revealing a pale, youthful face beneath. The boy looked no older than his late teens, his features soft yet twisted with anger. His eyes burned with defiance as they locked onto Iron Man.

The boy's anger was palpable. It radiated off him in waves, but there was something deeper—something darker—beneath his hostility. He clenched his teeth, his glare unrelenting, and said nothing. Yet Batman wasn't concerned. The Noose of Mantra ensured that silence wasn't an option for long.

Electric pulses ran through the rope, and the boy twitched, his muscles convulsing involuntarily. His defiance cracked under the pain, and after a long, tense moment, he finally spoke.

"My name… is Cali," he ground out through clenched teeth. His voice was rough and filled with venom, his eyes narrowing at Stark as if trying to bore holes into him. "You ruined my life. You killed my parents. You took everything from me!"

Stark tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable beneath the gleaming mask of his armor. "Why would I kill your parents?" he asked, his tone calm but tinged with exhaustion. This wasn't the first time someone had hurled such an accusation at him, and he doubted it would be the last.

Batman remained silent, letting his systems analyze the boy's face. The results came back almost instantly: Cali was the son of the leader of Eagle's Nest, a notorious militant group that had been eradicated by Stark's Iron Legion just a month prior. Stark hadn't even been directly involved in the operation—it had been routine cleanup, handled entirely by his automated systems. To Stark, it was a footnote, hardly worth remembering. To Cali, it was the day his world ended.

The pieces clicked into place for Stark. He sighed softly. Another casualty of war. 

Cali, meanwhile, continued to seethe. "If you're going to kill me, just do it!" he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You've already taken everything. What are you waiting for?"

Batman tugged the Noose of Mantra tighter, and the rope responded with another electric pulse. Cali's defiance faltered again, and he let out a gasp of pain. He squirmed against the bindings, his face twisting with frustration and agony, but he couldn't resist the Noose's power.

"It was… someone… gave it to me," he admitted finally, his words shaky but truthful.

"Who?" Batman asked sharply, his voice cold and commanding.

Cali shook his head weakly, his pale face drenched in sweat. "I don't know," he stammered. "After the attack… after you killed them all… I had nowhere to go. I couldn't stay at home. Your machines… your disgusting machines were everywhere. So I ran. I wandered through the desert. Days without food. Without water. I thought I was going to die."

His voice broke for a moment, but he swallowed hard and forced himself to continue. "Then this man appeared. He said he could help me. That he could give me strength. He told me I could take revenge on the man who killed my family… on Tony Stark."

Cali's words trailed off, his anger giving way to a mixture of bitterness and shame. He glanced at Batman, his expression darkening. It was clear he felt betrayed. Whoever had given him the armor had promised him power, but now, in the face of Batman and Stark, he saw how useless it truly was. The boy's confidence had been shattered along with his armor.

Batman interrogated him further, but it quickly became apparent that Cali knew little else. He couldn't describe the mysterious benefactor. He couldn't remember a face or a name. All he knew was that the man had saved him when he was on the brink of death and sent him on this mission of revenge.

The Noose ensured he was telling the truth. As much as Batman hated loose ends, it was clear Cali didn't have the answers they needed.

With a quick motion, Batman stripped Cali of the remains of his armor, restrained him further, and called for the authorities to take him into custody. The boy didn't struggle. His defeat was complete.

As the authorities arrived, Cali's rage resurfaced one last time. He yelled after Stark, his voice raw with hatred. 

"You think you're a hero?" he screamed. "You're no better than us! You're a murderer! A terrorist! The only difference is that your gun is bigger!"

Stark didn't respond. He didn't even glance back. With a quiet hum, the thrusters on his boots flared to life, and he shot into the night sky, leaving Cali's words to fade into the chaos of the ruined warehouse.

---

Back at the hospital, Stark stood in the doorway of Professor Prince's ward, his armor gleaming in the soft fluorescent light. The old man lay in bed, looking just as calm and composed as when Stark had left. He didn't seem surprised by Stark's return.

"So," Prince said slowly, his voice raspy but steady, "you've figured it out."

"Of course I have," Stark replied, his voice hard and laced with irritation. "Nothing stays hidden from me when I decide to dig."

He stepped closer, his glowing eyes locked on Prince. "No one stole the armor, did they? The project was terminated. The higher-ups shut you down, pulled your funding. So you decided to keep going on your own."

Prince sighed deeply but didn't deny it. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "They were fools to stop. They didn't see the potential. I had to prove its value."

"And the project leader?" Stark pressed. "The sudden death?"

"I didn't kill him," Prince said quickly. "But the rest of it? Yes, you're right. I had to act. This project is too important."

Stark's eyes narrowed. "It's not even your research, is it? Earth doesn't have the tech to create armor like that."

Prince's lips curled into a faint smile. "No," he admitted. "It's not ours. Its origin… is similar to yours, Stark. We believe it's alien technology."

Stark's face remained impassive beneath the helmet, but his mind was already racing.