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DC/Young Justice: Colors

Benjamin David spent half his days in a hospital bed, dying alone in what had become a colorless world without notice. But his time didn’t end as expected. Now, he suddenly woke up in another place. A strange universe where people dress as bats, aliens wear underwear outside their pants, and gods/immortals roam among men. Will his world continue to forever remain only a bleak black, gray, and white? Can he learn that color can be found in even the most unexpected of places? After all, we live in a rainbow of chaos called life. ------------------ Current Days of Upload: Sunday (Indefinitely, I hope) Personal Rating: M+ (Language is censored for my own preferences, but scenes of violence, blood, and death may be present.) ------------------ What to expect from this story... -Slightly Slow-Paced -Slightly Slice of Life -Action, Adventure, Mystery and Discovery (DC began by standing for "Detective Comics" before anything else, and I wish to stand by that origin if possible.) -Slow Power Increase (Strong to Stronger. Come on... it's a high-tiered world. He's got to be strong eventually.) -One Single Female Lead (NOT AN OC! She will be from either Young Justice or DC. I can't satisfy everyone, so don't give me ideas or get your hopes up! Romance will be later in the story.) ------------------ Hey it's the author here. I just wanted to speak to everyone regarding my fanfic. I first tried my hand at a novel due to my love for the hobby known as writing. Didn't go so well if you notice by scrolling to the bottom… As such, I decided to try writing some fanfics instead to improve my skill and bring to life these different ideas that came into my head. I'm starting with this fic right here, inspired by many other DC and Marvel stories. In this novel the MC will have no knowledge of the universe and its inhabitants. He only knows that he is in the DC Universe thanks to his powers. Other than that, he's in the dark as to what kind of place it is. Obviously I can't do this alone, and every bit of support goes a long way. I have managed to put up a Patreon for if someone wants to give me ideas or share my burden. Currently, you can read up to three chapters ahead over there. I want to bring the best possible quality content for everyone, and if I can make some money on the side, why not? Other than the prologue, the first 4 chapters are wonkey in word count, but they're between 4-8 thousand words each. At chapter 5, you'll be getting regular updates with a minimum of 8 thousand words or more. As I said, quality is important, but I'm not perfect. Even though I constantly review the chapters and put them through Grammarly or what not, THERE WILL BE MISTAKES. I can't guarantee to fix every single one of them, but if I accidentally right a huge plot hole or something, please let me know. Burn out is a real thing, and if I have to constantly go back to fix every single little detail, I'll eventually blow a fuse. Your support means the world to me, and I wish to go as far as possible with this story. Thanks! patreon.com/Geo_Ruler ------------------ Note: This is an AU (Alternate Universe) of my design with tweaks to Young Justice, DC Comics, and any other relevant DC works. Disclaimer: I do not own DC, Young Justice, nor any mention towards already owned and existing works, ideas, or other characters. I only own my OC and other certain elements. (Cover is AI generated.)

Geo_Ruler · Anime e quadrinhos
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29 Chs

Chapter 23: Deep Reaches, Far Hands (Part 2 - 2/2)

Date: August 20, 2008

Location: Unknown, Somewhere Near/In Chicago, Illinois

Time: Unknown / Around Night

Running through the empty sidewalks, a man dressed up in a long-sleeve tactical shirt with bulletproof armor covering him was puffing as he rounded every single corner he could find, traversing the back alleys. Coming up on a narrow pathway between two buildings, he hurdled over some tightly packed trash bags before reaching a dead end.

*HUFF HUFF HUFF HUFF*

The man's breathing paused as similar sounds echoed from behind him. Frantically pounding the graffiti-stained wall as if hoping he could smash it down, the man snapped out of his panicking state when he realized the futility of his actions.

*BAM BAM BAM*

Looking over his shoulder at the lane's entrance, fear leaked out from the man's domino-masked eyes as he quickly scanned the place. There were no doors that he could break down, the two building's window sills too high up to scale. There was a much closer fire escape on the left one, but a testing hop proved that he was inches too short in reaching it.

Acting quickly, the man made a commotion by rolling the largest bags of garbage directly underneath the ladder, patting down their bulging contents to make the surface an even platform for him to jump off.

*CRUNCH* *CRACK* *CLANG*

Sounds reminiscent of the glass, metal, and food bits the man felt jostling in the bags earlier rang in the alleyway, now below him. Not daring to take a glance back, he ran across the roof and started vaulting over buildings, moving in the direction of a construction site.

'Why me?' the man thought in regret. 'Why did I have to continue with this?!'

In the wake of the Justice League's formal assembly, a profound sense of obligation had passed through many people throughout the world. Like loyal fans, they started imitating their idols, taking to the streets and trying to become heroes. Needless to say, many issues cropped up as a result of that, a lot of those folks not having any of the proper training or knowledge required—just delusions of grandeur.

Jake didn't think he was that foolish.

Growing up with a war veteran for a dad was tough. He would constantly give out sermons instructing his son to practice discipline, obedience, respect, and most importantly, responsibility. He expected his son to follow in his footsteps, to retire with a higher standing in the military's ranks than him.

Yet, that was exactly why Jake detested his father. It was ridiculous how the man spouted such righteousness while practicing hypocrisy, having constantly beaten his own son and wife whenever he got riled up. Not only did Jake hate the idea of growing up in the army, he was pretty weak for his age.

It was only after his mom divorced the dirtbag and they moved away did Jake feel like he was able to find breath for once, his grandparents being much more gentle in their care after they moved in with them. They were the ones who opened Jake's eyes to what it meant to be responsible. Where his father tried to beat into him how 'might makes right', Jake's grandparents opened up a new path for him. A path that encouraged him to think bigger.

Well, being a superhero was thinking pretty big.

Being a superhero without powers was the biggest you could get.

It may have been his fifth week working as a street vigilante, still not able to come up with a name for himself, but Jake had spent months training for this moment. He had taken boxing classes, studied up on how to create a few useful gadgets to make up for his scrawny build, and even committed to memory every alley lane this city had.

The last point was a huge help to him. With a staggering nineteen hundred miles worth of space, Chicago had the largest system of pathways in the U.S. Unless you were a legendary navigator, it was impossible not to get lost in the branching pathways.

There was an incident a week ago in which Jake had almost been mauled by a cartel trying to get revenge after he torched their drug depot. He managed to ditch them, but only after they shot him full of some lead.

And once again, that bit of knowledge proved its worth by allowing him to stay ahead of the… monster… tailing him.

But now he was running out of options. His mind was starting to muddle, making it hard for him to recall the closest escape routes. Running into that dead end earlier was making him more exasperated.

'I took a break dammnit!' Water splashed as Jake landed in a puddle. Directly before him was the scaffolding of a half-erect factory. 'I should have quit. Why did I come back?!'

That same day he escaped from the cartel, when he locked himself in his room and muffled his screams to not alert his family to the bullets he was pulling out of his body, was when Jake truly understood that he was in over his head.

Forget seeing it to believe it, he lived it and still didn't believe it! If it was already this bad fighting against normal humans like him, what about the aliens and villains the League fought daily?

*SPLOSH*

Weaving between a few metal columns, Jake turned jittery at the faint noise behind him.

He almost forgot that the 'thing' following behind him couldn't be human either.

'What do I do?' Jake's breathing was ragged, his movements starting to slow. He'd been running for miles now trying to lose this thing, but not only had it remained resolute, it hadn't lost track of him for even a moment.

In fact, it seemed to be toying with him.

'I can't go on.' Jake finally acknowledged his limit. Even with the months of physical conditioning he put himself through, his asthma didn't do him any favors. His ankles and thighs were pounding too, unable to handle the continued stress put on them from all the heavy leaping. It was a miracle he could carry on this long. 'I need to hide. I can only try beating it to the punch.'

This wasn't like ET where he could hide under a zoo of stuffed animals. The only option Jake could find to shimmy under was a tarp hanging off two hooks on one wall. Quietly slipping under it, he lay on a flat, wooden plank as he tried to get his heavy exhalations under control.

*TAP TAP TAP TAP*

Footsteps soon echoed as Jake tensed, straining his ears to see if he was found out. If his hearing was correct, then the thing was circling around the beams he passed by earlier.

'Didn't expect I'd star in a live-action Predator film...' Jake's heart powerfully beat against his ribcage. 'This is the last time I'm ever going out to work as a hero.' he swore to himself.

The footsteps grew closer. The tapping sounds inched towards his hiding place.

'I've been had.' he realized. The thing was blatantly obvious in its approach. It knew he was ready to make his last stand. That he couldn't run anymore. 'It's now or never.'

Not wanting to stir up a draft that could cause the tarp to shuffle upward and further alert the thing, Jake slowly reached to the back of his waistband, pulling out a heavy baton. This was the only weapon he had left, the thing having destroyed everything else he tried throwing at it.

Psyching himself up, Jake's eyes sharpened as he focused on the approaching sounds, trying to measure the remaining distance.

'10 feet… 9 feet… 6 feet…'

As he tightened his fingers on the stick's short portion, Jake was ready for when the tarp would be yanked open before the steps abruptly stopped.

'What happened?' he wondered.

Hesitating, Jake waited to see if a change had occurred. He knew it was wishful thinking for it to have given up after so long, but it didn't make sense for it to stall either. Surely it wouldn't continue playing around with him when the end was near.

As the time painfully whittled away, Jake became more terrified. The unknown was a treacherous thing. It ate at your nerves and gorged itself on your slowly jumbling senses.

'No. That's enough.' Jake decided. 'If I'm gonna go out, I'm gonna go out swinging.' he mustered his will.

With a powerful yell, Jake popped out of the covering, the baton waving at the shadows swimming in his vision. It was only after a few seconds did he stop, realizing that he was hallucinating.

The entire area was empty.

'Did it really leave?' coming down from his high, Jake second-guessed himself, a wide smile threatening to tear onto his face at the hope handed to him. 'I did it. I survived.'

*RUSTLE*

Jake paused at the sound of something crinkling. A cold, solid object pressed into the back of his skull. As terrifying as the sensation was, his body shivered when he realized something horrifying. Something that only a ghost could accomplish.

The sound and feeling came from behind him. And the only two things behind him were the wall and…

'It was hiding under the tarp with me!'

*CLANG*

With a blow to the shoulder, the echo of a clattering baton rang within the silent chamber once it made contact with the ground. Jake's feet were kicked outwards from his already numbed ankles, his body's weight forced to lean on his heels in a 'W' position.

"What do you want from me?!" Jake shouted. "WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?!"

No response greeted him. He didn't dare turn his head around. All of his earlier bravado and thoughts of provoking a final scuffle had boiled away.

"Please let me go." he resorted to pleading. "I'm sorry for whatever I did to offend you. I'll do whatever you want."

The tranquility seemed to stretch for an eternity. Other than the metal pressed to the back of his head, Jake didn't hear or feel anything else. No quiet stirs of the air, no sounds of breathing, no fidgeting…

This thing really seemed like a ghost.

*CHA-CHAK*

The familiar sound of a gun-clocking rang out, Jake knowing that was the only answer his captor would give him. This was it. This was where he would meet his end. Any other petitions that Jake wanted to express were stuck in his throat. It didn't matter what he said or did. This thing's mind was made up.

'I'm sorry Mom… I don't think I can play Monopoly with you anymore.'

While his grandparents gave him the freedom to choose what he wanted to become, Jake's mother saw something else inside of him. She tried her best to connect with her son to make up for the times when she shunned him in exchange for his deadbeat dad.

That was how she noticed his acumen for business and management. The way he counted his fake money like a greedy loan shark, handled his fantasy properties like a hardened banker…She believed that as long as Jake remained diligent, he was destined for greatness, perhaps even becoming a great entrepreneur.

Now, that chance was squandered.

'I should've listened.' Jake remorsefully thought. 'If I waited it out, I could've been the next Bruce Wayne or Lex Luthor.'

Time seemed to decelerate for Jake, his body somehow capable of telling it was in the final stretch. He could clearly feel the thing's slowly squeezing finger, milliseconds away from reaching the end of the weapon's trigger guard.

'I guess I was right about one thing…'

With that last, unfinished, thought, a suppressed shot rang out.

Jake lifelessly thudded forward, his eyelids having managed to close themselves in time due to finding peace at the concluding moment.

As blood and brain matter poured out from the now-dead vigilante, a figure dressed head to toe in black stood over him, firearm still raised. Reaching into their trenchcoat, the white, concentric circles drawn on the front of the figure's sealed mask angled downwards to look at the two photos in their hand.

One was of a man dressed like a bat walking out the door of a flaming building, the other of a man dressed in green facing a camera with a charming smile on his face, stroking a magnificent goatee with one hand and performing a two-finger salute with the other.

Storing the images away after studying them, the figure didn't bother giving another glance to the cooling body, moving to leave the place.

"BLAM"

Jake was right about one thing.

Today really was his last day of being a hero…

------------------

Date: August 21, 2023

Location: Unknown, Somewhere Near/In Star City, California, Arrow Cave

Time: 4:49 P.M.

Hal was in a good mood. A great one in fact.

While the recent League meeting was a major dampener for him, nothing cheered him up and renewed his confidence like testing out a few brand new plane models while simultaneously saving a couple of lives first thing in the morning.

"Just tell me when I can see her?!"

He had to shoot himself in the foot by coming for a visit…

Leaning back on his chair in the lounge area while sipping his milkshake, Hal watched as Will argued with Oliver, the older hero tiredly sighing as he tried his best to tone down the kid's attitude.

"You can't." Oliver strictly spoke. "She's in intensive care, and no visitors are allowed."

"Yeah right. No visitors as in me! Not everyone else!" Will angrily corrected. "Same with Dick, same with Ben!"

Not only had this been going on since he walked in ten minutes ago, but Hal was sure they'd been going at it for more than half an hour. Oliver was down to earth with people most of the time, but if he was in a REALLY bad mood, his patience would quickly fade. Especially when it was tested through constant discourse.

"Listen to me Ro-"

"It's Will &$*!#)!($!" he cursed. "After all this time you can't get my *^(!)&!$)!&$ name right! Am I just a replacement for you?! Is Dinah someone else's replacement too?"

'Damn.' Hal thought in astonishment, sneaking a peek at the Emerald Archer's contorting visage. This previously inert volcano was now ready to blow at any second If he didn't get involved now. Someone was definitely going to say something they'll regret.

"How about this kid?" Hal quickly got out of his seat to pat Oliver on the shoulder. "We'll bring it up with Batman if you can visit your pals later. I'm sure he'll be more understanding with how much time passed."

"And Dinah?" Will asked. Instead of receiving an answer, the two greenies shared a silent glance that pushed him over the edge. "What aren't you telling me?!"

Oliver exploded in return. "I already told you! You can't see her!"

Clenching his fists, Will stomped out of the lounge while grabbing his bow propped up on the wall. "Where do you think you're going?!" Oliver shouted after him.

"Patrol. Why? Afraid I'll get run over by a car if you're not holding me by the hand when I cross a street?" Will sarcastically answered. "Oh, oh, or maybe I'll get snatched up like your dear Roy!'

Before Oliver could stop him, Hal intervened with a shake of his head. "Kid needs to cool down. Just let him get it out of his system. City's been quiet for a while now anyways, right?"

Sagging in exhaustion, Oliver rubbed his eyes as plucked an arrow from his quiver and threw it at an overhead target in frustration. "Ah, crap!"

Looking at the decimated bullseye, Hal backed up from the heated pointy-stick-wielding man and reached for a white plastic bag with a green cross logo on the front. "How about you have some O'Donne's to cool down? I did a double-back on the way here just for you."

Oliver sat hunched at the table and accepted the offering. Taking the lid off a small packaged container, he took a whiff of the colcannon inside before grimacing. "Yeesh. I can already taste the blandness. Remind me again why we eat this instead of my chili?"

Hal deliberately shuddered at the query. "You may be able to chug down that excuse of toxic paint remover for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but I'm constantly melting my mouth off!"

With all the spice condiments the archer blends into his dish, Hal knew that asking the staff to make the food extra spicy wasn't enough to arouse his friend's taste buds…

Oliver chowed down on the dish, the tension in his shoulders bleeding away as Hal relaxed in a seat beside him with a hand propping up his chin. "So, how's Dinah doing?"

"She's doing much better actually." Oliver visibly cheered up at sharing the news. "Her pupillary reactions were more frequent compared to yesterday, and tests showed that her brain activity was finally beginning to normalize. J'onn's optimistic that she'll wake up by the end of the week."

Hal sighed in relief. After the covering on her face had been removed back at Grant Park, having endured around a minute and twenty seconds without oxygen, Dinah had been unresponsive to every attempt to awaken her, seemingly left in a coma. Thankfully, after promptly rushing her to the Watchtower where she was hooked up to some state-of-the-art alien equipment, test results proved that little to no damage was done to her brain.

Nobody could tell how long it would take for her to awake, but the recovered J'onn was monitoring her condition, making sure her mind remained in pleasant condition.

"So, Dinah…" Hal slowly began. "You never told me how you managed to get her interested. You finally call in that favor from Cupid, or has she been chatting with your exes?"

Combing his goatee with one of his hands, Oliver looked at his friend in disdain as he sneered. "Last time I checked, not all of us try turning into neon light bulbs just to catch a lady's eye. Remind me how much pixie dust you've tried sprinkling around Carol again?"

Hal flinched, whistling as he dropped the topic. It's been years since he tried hitting on his boss, Carol Ferris, but his duties always prevented him from taking the last step with her. He wasn't really self conscious about it, but now that Oliver managed to get a leg up on him regarding their romantic life, it was hard not to feel competitive. Both of them liked being in the spotlight, but only one could fit on the stage.

Oh how the turned tables…

"How about we put this aside for now and settle on the fact that Barry's the real dog?" Hal suggested. Oliver nodded in agreement.

Where the Lantern hadn't even reached the starting point in his race for love, and the Emerald Archer was still running down the track, the Scarlet Speedster was way beyond the finish line, having already gotten married a few years earlier.

As Oliver patted his belly and gave a short, satisfied burp, Hal decided it was time to turn the mood serious. "She's strong, Ollie. You can't keep beating yourself up over her state. I'm not saying it's a bad thing for you to care so much, but you need to chin up a little more. One Bruce is enough."

Even though it didn't look like it at the time, no one can deny that Dinah was a huge help in holding Ben's attention. It was thanks to the woman screaming her lungs out that everyone had a lot of wiggle room in parts of the battle, coming close to keeping Ben pinned. Although the end result wasn't desirable, Dinah proved her worth, any reservations some may have still had about her qualifications to join the League being thrown out the window.

"It's not about that. I know better than anyone what she's made of." Oliver didn't dispute Hal's point as he crossed his arms, a lost look in his eyes. "It's just… look at what she was reduced to."

Even though she was protected by the Atlanteans at all times, never having gotten too close to Ben to be in any danger, Dinah still ended up captured alongside the rest, her mouth stuffed like a pig on a tray.

"Even with her powers, she couldn't measure up." Oliver took an arrow from his quiver as he examined the tip. "I know I'm not invincible, not by any stretch of the word. But I know my worth and that I'm a touch above the rest. Yet…"

Oliver couldn't say it, but Hal understood him well enough to see what he was hesitating about. Even with Dinah's current state, even with the uselessness he still harbored within him due to the fight, Roy was Oliver's biggest failure.

He had prided himself in his pupil, trying to do right by him. Like he said, he knew that he wasn't invincible, but he still believed that he could make the kid shine just as brightly as him.

Instead, he got taken right under his nose.

Then, Will came, bringing a whole new ballgame with him.

The League had been keeping Will under constant watch by performing routine checkups to make sure there were no further risks of hidden programming. A side consequence of this was discovering more of his… growth and sophistication level.

The kid was having an identity crisis, and it didn't help that his mentor couldn't dissociate the face before him from his missing ward.

That was what Oliver tried to be most cautious about, and failed. Will's emotional maturity was still child-like, the kid becoming easily attachable when he felt true compassion. He was imprinted upon the man (Oliver) and woman (Dinah) he spent the most time with as his parents, not fully understanding what forming that kind of relationship entailed.

"As you can tell, he's been asking me when he could visit her for a while now." Oliver put the arrow away. "And every time I tell him he can't, a part of me dies when I see him storm out of the cave. What can I do?"

Conceding to Will's request would mean taking him up to the Watchtower. Previously, the League had made it mandatory to keep the Watchtower a secret, taking everyone's word for it when they agreed. But now, the contract enforced the secret. Oliver couldn't acquiesce to the kid's pleas no matter how badly he wanted to, and he couldn't make a believable excuse either.

"You know?" Hal mulled something over for a bit. "I kinda feel sad that you ignored the weakest person there at the time."

"What do you-" Oliver looked at Hal strangely before he abruptly realized.

Being a spacecop meant fighting the most common aliens to the weirdest humans. Hal has had his fair share of close calls, but the after-battle jitters never got any easier. This time against Ben was even worse than usual.

He wasn't really smart like Bruce or Barry, couldn't leap with the dolphins like Aquaman, couldn't beat Clark in a flying race even when piloting the fastest jet on Earth…

The ring was all he had going for him. The more knowledgeable it's wielder, the more power it can bring forth. He may have been a simple 'greenie' when he first got it, but after all this time traveling among the stars and learning the intricacies of so much foreign and domestic technology, Hal now shone like the… lightbulb… he was.

His tenaciousness had gotten him to this point, but the ring was what converted that inner stubbornness into results that were tangible.

Silence settled for a bit, Oliver unable to formulate a response as he decided to change the subject. "So, what's your grand plan to convince Bruce to let Will visit? Thanks to John, you're not really in his good graces right now."

Although he wasn't the one to attack the kid, John was considered Hal's partner, therefore speaking on his behalf too. The man had really pushed Bruce's buttons before, so he definitely wouldn't want to be seeing either of the Lanterns for a while.

"You're the ones who decided to take him on 'cause you felt like he could play devil's advocate. I did say that one Lantern was all you needed." Hal bragged before shrugging casually. "As for my plan… yeah, that's all up to you. I just said what I said so that the kid could leave without his mentor murdering him."

Oliver sputtered in disbelief. "The hell it's up to me! I ain't going anywhere near that grouch."

Unless it came down to business, it was hard to get Bruce in a chatty mood, the man often answering any talk directed to him with a 'Hrm' or a plain 'No'. Usually, Oliver's dramatic pep made up for the man's lack of energy, but he didn't have much to share at the moment.

"That's fine. I ain't gonna force you." Hal replied in amusement. "But just so you're aware, the kid'll continue nagging at you like Donkey to Shrek."

"I swear if you're calling me an ogre right now…"

"Fine fine, it was my mistake… Monsieur Hood. Ever think about dying your hair black? I feel like his style suits you."

"Ha ha, laugh it up Wazowski."

"Hey! Unlike you, I didn't have a choice in the uniform design."

"I was referring to your horn-like ears. You're just jealous of my natural blondness making my stache glisten off the light. And by the way, my costume is a work of art that you could never underst-"

As the two continued trading some light-hearted quips at each other, the mood around them slowly eased, becoming more harmonious.

Suddenly, Hal clapped his hands. "Alright then. Now that we've gotten rid of your debby-downer attitude, we can proceed with the gift."

As Oliver raised a brow, two tickets settled themselves between Hal's fingers with a flourish of his hands. "Stars against Devils in a half hour."

"I'm game for a good game." Oliver grinned, abruptly realizing something. "Hold on, what happened to you and John's meeting with the Guardians?"

Hal became thoughtful. "Yeah… they just stopped urging us to get back for some reason. Regardless, I'm still planning on taking a trip there right after the game."

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, and he felt like the Guardians were the only ones who could provide any answers.

But first, he was going to be whooping for joy from watching men on skates bulldoze each other while making sure his friend screamed out any remaining frustrations.

------------------

Date: August 21, 2008 (231 Earth Rotations)

Location: Space Sector 0, Planet Oa

Time: 22:20 UCH (Universal Clock Hours)

Sector 0, the district considered as the center of the universe.

Smack dab in the middle of the district was a giant planet teeming with men dressed in green uniforms flying through the atmosphere. Smack dab in the middle of that planet was a giant, lantern-shaped battery, spilling out a bright green light that illuminated the world's surface.

"This is preposterous. We cannot allow this abomination to continue roaming free while putting all that we've worked to prevent in jeopardy."

Inside a high-tech chamber, a long table was teeming with blue-skinned, white-haired, humanoid aliens, one of the majority calmly stating her case from her seat and waving at a hologram. Her head was bald with a nauseating scar branded on the right side of her face.

A video played, showing how a man clad in black gas created a canon to fire at a man with an S on his chest, blowing him back. As the images continued, the entire series of events regarding Ben's fight against the Justice League were soon revealed.

Ganthet watched as his fellow Oans glanced at each other, murmuring under their breaths. The whole time they did, their expressions never changed, having remained static in form.

For years, as the self-proclaimed wisest race in the galaxy, the Guardians of the Universe believed it was up to them to keep tabs on all of its happenings. One of the ways they did so was by observing the recordings captured by the rings they granted their Lanterns.

Everything they did was to combat evil and create an orderly universe. This included casting away core parts of themselves in order to become the ideal, impartial peacekeepers they believed themselves to be.

"We still do not know if the prophecy is more than fable, let alone if he is the key to fulfilling it." a male alien interrupted, denying the assumption of his fellow 'sister'. "While I agree we can't leave him be, bringing him in would also be bring about many consequences. Should we attempt to take the boy, the champions of Earth will not stand idle."

"But not taking him in may prove to be our undoing." another female Guardian protested, Ganthet calmly observing her.

'Sayd.' his subconscious reminded him of her name.

In order to become the judges they aspired to be, the Guardians had begun their journey by throwing away all emotion. Soon, that turned into them refraining from referring to one another by their names, regarding it to be the greatest form of identity and attachment, and as such, a notion that would interfere in their rulings.

Yet, there were always those who stood out among the traditionalists.

Where many of his siblings' names became lost over the eons, simply being referred to as 'Brother' or 'Sister', Ganthet's remained. He tried his hardest to remain neutral in all of their proceedings, being one of the few who upheld the codes created long ago.

But recently, something had been… bothering… him. Feelings he shouldn't be capable of possessing trying to pester him…

Perhaps Sayd was the only other one who understood him among the rest. Where everyone took the omens coming upon them as mere legends, Sayd seemed to have sensed something similar.

"Yes. That's why I appeal to my earlier words." the scarred female alien nodded at Sayd.

"I disagree." Ganthet suddenly voiced. "You have no merit behind your decision, wishing to carry it out based on a simple hypothesis."

"What would you have us do then?" another brother asked him. "Half the universe is now aware of the celestial body the Terrans inhabit due to the signal the child broadcasted. This goes against our previous plans to keep the world out of sight."

"We already dismissed the idea after acknowledging Lantern 2814." another sister reminded. "The presence of the Starheart with the one known as Alan Scott was conspicuous enough as it is."

Ganthet nodded his head. "That is precisely why I propose that we hold off on taking any action. Any measures on our part may incite further disturbances. Rather, we must first tighten our surveillance towards those who shall most likely answer the call. For instance, Sinestro and the Qwardians have been unusually silent recently."

Thinking on the plan for a bit, the majority felt it made sense, ready to agree before another spoke up.

"You all seem to have forgotten a paramount piece of information." a male slowly began. "The boy is connected to the ENTIRE spectrum. Have you all forgotten what became of the first to do so?"

Everyone became silent, Ganthet witnessing a glint shoot through their eyes, too fast to be identified.

"I still find it hard to believe he is capable of channeling the spectrum's might without the use of a ring." another male muttered. "It's unheard of."

"It's a threat." the scarred female alien sitting beside him corrected. "Should another get their hands on our methods through the welp, they will attain limitless power." She glanced at Ganthet. "Is that not reason enough?"

"You speak as if the boy himself is not already on that path." another sister retorted before Ganthet could, drawing away attention from him.

Still, he knew it was time to convince them that there were other problems.

"Cease this. You forget that someone has already begun making use of our knowledge."

Everyone became silent, looking towards the center of the table as Ganthet stood up. "The records from Lantern 2814 have shown that our technology was sighted upon the planet. We have succeeded in keeping our methods guarded for all these years, but there is only one occasion on which we had succumbed to the overwhelming might of a single being."

In an impossible manner, some in the room shivered at the unnamed event, not wanting to think about it. Yet, Ganthet had to remind them. He had to make sure they understood the danger they were facing.

"Surely that tyrant wouldn't stoop so low as to rely on our advancements after remaining content to keep them as trophies. Why would he humble himself now?" another male asked.

No one could answer him.

"All of these points are compelling, however, they require further discussions. When a majority consensus is reached, a verdict will then be carried out." Ganthet put forward a consideration.

"And what of the Lanterns of 2814?" one asked.

"I asked them to withhold their arrival until we may come upon an agreeable manner to deal with them." Ganthet replied. "Is this acceptable?"

After no signs of disagreement were voiced, the meeting was concluded.

As his brethren filed out of the room in a single line, Ganthet's gaze lingered on the scar-faced alien as he stayed behind. Moving to a terrace, he peered down at the streets to watch a couple of alien cubs pretend-fire lasers from messily painted green rings fashioned from scraps, the Lanter Corps sigil inscribed on them.

"Why did you lie?" a female voice suddenly asked from behind. Ganthet didn't turn back as Sayd floated beside him. Instead of paying attention to the children, she gazed up at the flying Lanterns chaperoning them. "Why be so insistent on shutting down our sister's ideas?"

"...Have you not noticed?" Ganthet glanced at Sayd, continuing when he received no response. "Scarce it may be, her views are slowly encroaching in a direction that stands in violation of our beliefs."

With all the time they spent together, it made sense for the Guardians to know each other well enough by now. Unfortunately, that only stood in Ganthet's case, the alien being the only one who seemed to care enough to understand his 'siblings'. He could tell with certainty that Sayd also cared greatly for peace, agreeing with the scar-faced woman out of what she believed was the most peaceful solution.

Yet, Ganthet had witnessed the scar-faced female slowly change in ways that were unsettling. The Guardians were meant to enforce their enforcers, but to Ganthet, it sometimes looked like… 'Scar'... wished to gain an iron grip over the Corp, her opinions beginning to turn militaristic.

"Are we not traversing a similar path?" Sayd asked, looking closely at Ganthet. "I can sense it. The two of us suffer under a similar concept. How is it that we can… feel… once more? And what is that we feel? I can no longer remember."

Ganthet paused in thought, taking a glance at the woman before he closed his eyes. "With every act we fail to rightfully judge, our beliefs are proven to be a fallacy. The wars we previously fought, believing to be just, the future that we attempted to forge…"

Ganthet trailed off. "The feeling you feel? That is fear." he suddenly said, Sayd looking at him with another unidentifiable emotion.

" 'Why fear?'. It's what you wish to ask, correct?" Ganthet beat her to the punch. Sayd closed her mouth and nodded. "Now that the very substance of fear, Parallax, is no longer contained within the Central Power Battery, I've found that we're incorrect in thinking that we are emotionless. That we have reached a higher level…"

That was why he held back John and Hal from coming. After so long, it was only now that the truth was being revealed to Ganthet. So caught up in their… arrogance… if his fellow Guardians found any signs of unknown influence within the Terran Lanterns' rings, they would either forever imprison them, or worse, execute them on the spot.

Ganthet couldn't let that happen. Something warned him that he would need the aid of those Lanterns, that they would be important figures in the rocky times coming upon them.

Sighing at the giant lantern reaching into the sky, Ganthet summed up all their problems with one statement.

"So much trouble from one planet."

As if agreeing with his words, the green light pouring forth from the lantern gave a minute, unnoticeable pulse, before settling back down.

Meanwhile, light years away, a figure sealed in darkness eavesdropped on every word spoken, a smile playing on their lips.

------------------

Date: August 22, 2008

Location: --/--/–

Time: 2:47 A.M.

Standing before the bronze railing atop a tall tower, a man watched as a vast expanse of light bowed down to him. They danced, flickered, burst, blinked… all in order to grant his favor.

However, the man seemed more interested in closely surveying each and every individual that his eye could make out. His back was broad, the heavy coat he was wearing unable to cover up his sturdy stature. Sideburns went up from his jaw into slicked-back hair that reached down to his neck. Gloved hands were clasped behind his back, projecting his chest out more while adding to his imposingness.

A figure walked out from the darkness behind the man, a baggy cloak covering everything about them. "The agreement has been fulfilled."

Turning around from the railing, the man's face came into full view from the shadows, three pale scars etched onto its center. Remaining impassive in the face of the figure's decree, Vandal Savage stretched out his hand, some oblong-shaped objects and a small circular disk being handed over to him. "Were there any complications?"

"Of course not." the figure's denial couldn't be any more disdainful. "Had it not been for my Master, I would have struck you down for such doubt. Your request was deplorable enough. My Emotionalizer is meant to empty a man of their fear, not be downgraded to shielding your pitiful fervor."

"Your woes are inconsequential to me in the face of results." Vandal put the items away as he turned back to the railing, looking down at the city's lights. "But rest assured, while you may discredit your prized innovation's current utility, I will put its usefulness to good use."

"Do as you wish." the figure spoke, taking a red, rectangular box out from behind his cloak. With a loud ping from the device, a giant, orange portal boomed into existence at his left. "So long as you don't forget the favor you owe my Lord, this partnership shall continue as it has. Otherwise, you'll earn a taste that comes with the originality of a 'prized innovation'. Then we shall see if your words were fruitless."

As the figure disappeared inside the portal, Vandal continued to remain perched before the railing, his gaze unwavering.

"Stranger. Punctual as always."

A man in a blue overcoat appeared behind Vandal, his lower body completely covered up by his jacket's front vents. The similar colored fedora on his head cast a shadow over his face, highlighting his glowing, white eyes.

"The stranger comes when the stranger is needed."

"Truly?" Vandal snorted. The man's riddles had always amused him, not because of some misguided sense of humor, but because they always seemed like nonsense to him. "I can't recall ever receiving your aid. Nor a time when it was required."

"Is a stranger called upon only to provide aid?" The stranger questioned, looking out at the city Vandal seemed so enamored with. "Men live by their history, you more so. Deny a man his past and you deny his present."

Vandal said nothing as he looked at the man. There were many times he tried attacking the stranger in annoyance whenever he appeared, failing to put a scratch on him. Now he had gotten used to standing by, forced to hear his enigmatic musings.

But there were instances where the man's words intrigued him. Junctures in history where some sort of sense in the words spoken resonated with Vandal in ways he couldn't fully understand, leading him down paths he would've never considered. "And what of a man's future?"

The stranger walked over to stand beside Vandal, a white-gloved hand coming out from the confines of his coat to point up to the sky as stars began to dot the previously empty canvas. "A man's future is the consequence of his actions. And when the consequences are too dangerous, a narrator, a wanderer in a foreign land, is called upon to recite the coming tale."

The stars magically rearranged themselves, images of a red bull charging towards a few blurry silhouettes playing out as a blood-red hue spilled across the universe. "A war has been written in the annals of Destiny, one that surpasses good and evil."

The image of a man with three scars over his face appeared, his body growing desolate alongside the earth he lay on.

"One in which you may perish."

And just like that, the understanding that had begun filling Vandal disappeared.

"You wish to lecture me… on war?" he asked with slight disdain.

Ever since he began roaming the Earth, Vandal had constantly put himself in a position of the greatest figures recorded in history, going so far as to fight against the civilizations he allied himself with at times.

"I am no longer a caveman. I am the one who shaped the world of tomorrow, and I will continue doing so for this war of tomorrow. MY, tomorrow."

All these millenia were meant to grant time for the seeds he sowed throughout the planet to bloom. Not only had he succeeded, but other parts of his plans were starting to bear fruit. He's had to live through eternal boredom all for this moment.

"I am the veteran and orchestrator of every war mankind has ever had, and this war is no different. If anything was written in the annals of destiny, it was by my hand." Vandal looked up at the stars. "Do you think me so foolish as to not take precautions in winning what I started?"

Many of his titles, his past life names, were famous. Attila the Hun, Blackbeard, General Sha, Vlad the Impaler… a few names in the face of the majority that encompassed Vandal's soul. He once killed the true inventor of the wheel in Sumeria, claiming it as his own idea. Some also believed he was Cain, the first man to have birthed violence and murder. `

Yet, one life stood out the most and backed his current boasting. One that many looked to as a guide from which he wrote years ago, serving to repurpose the concept of war as an art.

Sun Tzu.

"Take your warnings and leave. Nothing you say can dissuade me."

For once, Vandal was disappointed in the stranger's words, having hoped the man would clearly say what he meant. A primordial spirit filled his eyes as he considered the man standing beside him, an ancient feeling that paid tides to his past and current…

Savagery.

The stranger studied Vandal for a bit, the lights in the sky dimming as his hand retreated back under his cloak. He walked back toward one of the tower's beams. "While the past may determine the present, its dangers always return. For the past persists in knocking at the door, trying to break through into today."

Vandal also turned his back on the man, clearly done with listening to him.

"Remain firm in your stance, Immortal Mortal. You must survive to see your future, for this tale proceeds your own."

Vandal's eyes widened. Rapidly swiveling his body, he found the platform empty, no longer a ghost in sight.

No, not a ghost, but a phantom.

Vandal slammed his hand down on the railing, the metal beneath him groaning.

"A future where I experience death, but in the battle of another." he murmured.

Then… he laughed.

The thought was… no… IS amusing. After all these years, even with all that he had taken for himself, there were still factors beyond his control, beyond his possession.

Taking a centering breath, Vandal resumed observing the still cheerful lights, even-tempered once more. Of all the most magnificent locations he traveled, it was in this city that his invigorating ferocity turned placid. It was here where he managed to better attune his plans, drawing them all together into the perfect product.

After all, other than the City of Lights, what better place could there be for a visionary like him to reach enlightenment?

Location: Paris, France, The Eiffel Tower

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HA-HA-HAPPPPPPY NEW YEARS YALL! DID YOU MISS ME?!?!

Let me tell ya, I've missed all of you!

My heart yearned for your comments and well wishes while my soul ached for every minute I was absent from your thoughts.

But now... THE KING IS BACK BABY!!

Well... in some way, shape, and form so to speak.

I passed all of my classes this semester a little less than two weeks ago and took the time to wind down and take a break from all the studying. I didn't automatically get back to writing until now.

I've also been taking the time to review my previous plans and story outlines and whatnot, leading me to a couple of conclusions.

First off, I can't continue the Patreon for now.

At this moment, studying comes first, so as much as I want to earn money on the side from my start-up writing career, I don't have as much time as I'd like. It takes time and focus to stock up on chapters, and I can't keep doing it. As such, I decided to just pause my Patreon until I have the time. 

I guess people were right when they said that involving money with your hobby is wrong. Unless I know that I can give my undivided attention to just writing and posting, I can't do it. Regardless, I now know that I have a lot of people willing to pay for my work whenever I'm ready to share it, and it warms my heart. 

And that leads to my second conclusion...

I love writing.

And because I love it so much, I want to continue posting on Webnovel and FF.net. I don't want to stop if I can.

I'll write when I have time, and post when I have time available. It may take longer than the previous plans I had of one chapter every two weeks or may take much faster, but I can only post when I know I have time.

I want to improve as a writer, and I want to feel like I accomplished a lot of things with my life. I also want supporters, and I'm sure some of you guys don't even realize what wonderful supporters you are.

So, all I can say is...

I'm here to stay.

Thank you very much for everyone who has been asking where I've been over the past few months and how I've been doing. Your concern and thoughtfulness means the world to me, and I want to do my best to repay it.

Part three is the last part for this mini-arc and I will be trying to be post it by next week along with an omake (since someone commented on the idea previously and I'm absolutely captured by it). But then again, no promises made.

With all that said, I once again thank you all for your love and support and wish you all a Happy New Years.

Thank you everyone!

(P.S. It's probably not New Years anymore when I post this, but it's the thought that counts. Hope you enjoyed my present!)

1)...

2)...

3)... The entire royal treasury has been worthless these past few months, so why don't we restock on comments, power stones and reviews. Yeah?

"Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven."

- Tryon Edwards

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