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Ch-13 The Wild-Pack
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 11:23:17 +0000 UTCChapter 13: Wild-Pack
The Observatory; August 11, 2010 – 13:22 EDT
The observatory's glass dome filtered the afternoon sunlight, casting prismatic patterns across the circular training floor. The building—once used to chart stars—now served as something far more terrestrial: a forge for heroes.
Arsenal's mechanical arm whirred as he dodged a precisely calculated blow from Match. The Kryptonian clone moved with restrained power, his eyes flashing momentarily red before returning to their usual blue. He was letting the steam out to get over the emotionally taxing interaction he just had.
"Getting slower, sunshine," Arsenal taunted, his body sliding into a defensive stance that would have made Green Arrow proud—though he'd never admit it.
Match's response was a half-smile. "Getting predictable, Harper."
They circled each other like wolves, three weeks of intensive training evident in their synchronized movements. Match no longer fought like Superman—all straightforward power and basic combat fundamentals. He had developed his own style: economical, precise, tactical.
Arsenal, meanwhile, had adapted to his mechanical limb's capabilities with remarkable speed, leveraging the weapon systems integrated into the prosthetic.
From the observation platform above, Raj Bansal monitored their vital signs on a holographic display. His lean frame was bent over the console, dark eyes reflecting the stream of data. Three weeks since the Star City warehouse confrontation, and already the two former Cadmus subjects had evolved beyond his initial projections.
One month, he thought, the mental calculation automatic. That's all I can afford on this project. The pull is getting stronger than anticipated.
His fingers danced across the console, adjusting parameters. The hideout—an abandoned observatory perched on a remote mountain outside of Metropolis—hummed with technology far beyond anything currently available on this Earth.
Raj's eyes drifted to the calendar on his display: August 11, 2010.
Later that evening, Roy sat on an examination table while Raj inspected his mechanical arm. The components gleamed under the laboratory lights—a hodgepodge of stolen technology that somehow functioned in perfect harmony.
"How did you even get half this stuff?" Roy asked, watching as Raj carefully detached a panel to expose the neural interface.
"Borrowed some. Salvaged the rest," Raj replied with practiced vagueness. His workspace told another story—scraps of alien technology, quantum processors, and materials that glowed with unnatural light populated the cluttered lab benches.
On the central bench sat a containment unit housing what looked like mercury in suspension—except it moved with purpose, forming complex geometric patterns even when undisturbed.
"Is that it?" Roy nodded toward the silver fluid. "The nanobot serum thingy you were talking about?"
"Version 4.7," Raj confirmed. "Previous versions were... less stable."
Across the lab, Match observed the silver substance with visible unease. "And you're sure it won't work for me?"
Raj's expression softened with rare empathy. "I've analyzed your cellular structure extensively. The nanobots would be rejected within seconds." He pulled up a holographic model of Match's DNA—a twisting helix that periodically glitched and restructured itself. "Your Kryptonian biology is constantly fluctuating between states."
"Because of the incomplete cloning process," Match said flatly.
"Partly. But also because you're evolving," Raj explained. "Your solar energy absorption would fry the nanobots. Your healing factor would identify them as foreign bodies. Your genetics are too unstable for integration."
He turned to Roy, whose expression remained carefully neutral. "You, on the other hand..." Raj pulled up a scan of Roy's neural patterns and the mechanical-biological interface where his arm connected. "You're not broken, Roy. You're compatible. That's rarer."
Roy's eyes narrowed. "You saying I'm the guinea pig?"
Raj's lips quirked into what might have been a genuine smile—a rarity for the enigmatic scientist. "No. I'm saying you're the prototype."
The silver fluid in the containment unit pulsed, as if responding to the conversation.
Later, after Match had departed for a patrol circuit, Roy leaned against a workbench as Raj meticulously adjusted the serum's composition.
"Why are you doing this?" Roy asked abruptly. "The base, the tech, the training. We're not exactly a charity case."
Raj's hands paused over his work, then resumed their rhythmic motion. "Insurance."
"Against?"
Raj considered the question for a long moment. "There are forces beyond the League of Assassins. Beyond Luthor. Forces this world isn't prepared to face."
"And we are?" Roy's skepticism was palpable.
"You will be," Raj answered with quiet certainty. "You have to be."
"I want to show you something," Raj said three days later, leading Roy and Match to a circular chamber deep within the observatory's foundations. "Something I haven't shown anyone else."
The room was bare except for three meditation mats arranged in a triangle. Embedded in the ceiling was a crystalline structure that refracted light in impossible ways.
"Sit," Raj instructed, taking his place on one of the mats. Roy and Match exchanged glances before complying.
"What you're about to experience isn't a hallucination," Raj cautioned. "It's a psychic projection filtered through quantum entanglement. Don't resist it."
In his mindspace—the infinite library under the stars—he hovered over two glowing orbs pulsing with intention.
The first star was a shimmering prism that refracted versions of Earth like a kaleidoscope. The second was deep silver, encased in a swirling mesh of circuitry and neural paths.
He touched the first. [Star Selected: Multiversal Projection]
Instantly, one of the unused Eidolon slots on the central pedestal flared to life. The orb descended and settled into its groove.
Raj felt his perception stretch—his thoughts unfurling like light through a lens. His ability to see the multiverse became something he could show.
Back in the real world, the crystal above the meditation chamber began to pulse in golden resonance.
Before either could question him, Raj pressed his palms together in front of his chest. The crystal above them pulsed with golden light, and reality... dissolved.
Roy felt his consciousness expand beyond his body, beyond the room, beyond comprehension. When his awareness stabilized, he found himself—or rather, a projected version of himself—floating in an endless void dotted with what looked like stars.
Except they weren't stars.
They were Earths. Countless versions of Earth, some shining brightly, others dim and faltering. Some burned with unnatural colors, while others were wrapped in darkness.
Match's projected form materialized beside him; eyes wide with astonishment. Raj appeared last, his form more defined in this space, wrapped in subtle golden energy.
"I wasn't born here," Raj's voice echoed through the cosmic mindspace. "I landed here. Across a chain of broken Earths—some beautiful, most burned. Worlds with dead gods, inverted heroes, and war machines powered by souls."
As he spoke, the nearest Earth expanded before them, revealing a twisted version of their world. The Justice League existed there too—but wrong. Ultraman instead of Superman. Owlman instead of Batman. Superwoman instead of Wonder Woman. Their costumes darker, their methods brutal.
"Earth-3," Raj explained. "The Crime Syndicate's world. Where heroes are villains and villains are... well, still mostly villains."
The vision shifted to another Earth, where a red hammer and sickle dominated North America, and a Soviet Superman ruled with an iron fist.
"Earth-30. The Red Son reality."
Again, the vision changed: a Nazi-dominated world where a Kryptonian bore a swastika on his chest.
Raj frowned, his expression tightening at the quiet anger he felt toward how a sacred Indian symbol of peace had been stolen and defiled by history.
"Earth-10. The Overman's Reich."
More Earths flashed before them, each emanating distinct vibrational frequencies that Roy could somehow perceive:
Earth-11: Where gender was reversed, and Superwoman led the Justice Guild alongside Batwoman and Wonder Man.
Earth-12: A future timeline where Batman Beyond followed in his predecessor's footsteps, protecting a Neo-Gotham of hovercars and cybernetic enhancements.
The vision expanded further, revealing more realities:
Earth-43: A world of perpetual twilight where Batman became a vampire, leading a court of undead heroes.
Earth-26: Captain Carrot's world, where anthropomorphic animals formed the Zoo Crew.
"The multiverse is vast," Raj continued, his voice tight with emotion. "And fragile. The barriers between worlds are weakening."
Roy watched as golden cracks appeared between the Earths, hairline fractures in reality itself. They followed the pattern of a complex web—the Bleed—that crimson space between universes where cosmic forces threatened to tear through.
"I am already feeling the pull," Raj said. "Not yet fully—but soon I'll not be able to resist."
The vision pulled back, showing the entire multiversal tapestry—52 primary Earths arranged in complex patterns, connected by threads of probability and quantum entanglement.
Match's projected form floated closer. "You keep talking about this pull. What is it, really? Why now?"
Raj turned slowly, golden light glinting off his skin in the mindspace.
"You know how oceans have tides?" he asked. "The multiverse has one too. It's called the Bleed."
Roy frowned. "That sounds... comic book-y."
"It's real," Raj said, his voice quiet but certain. "The Bleed is the space between universes—a red, fluid dimension made of chaotic quantum probability and raw narrative potential. It's where stories bleed together, where physics fails and causality twists. Every jump between Earths, every broken timeline, rips into it."
"And you're being pulled into it?" Match asked.
Raj admitted. "I'm a foreign body in this multiverse. And the longer I stay, the more I destabilize things. The Bleed reacts to that. Think of it as... gravity for anomalies like me. Every time a multiversal crisis brews, the pull strengthens. It's like the universe is trying to eject me to somewhere I'm 'meant' to fix next."
Roy crossed his arms. "Then what's keeping you here?"
Raj gestured upward. The golden shield surrounding Earth-16 pulsed faintly. "This. A localized barrier that dampens the pull. But it's fragile—requires constant reinforcement."
He turned his palm upward, and five glowing stars drifted into view. "I had to dedicate five of my Eidolon slots just to maintaining this containment field."
He pointed to each star, naming them as they shimmered into the cosmic pedestal:
Dimensional Anchoring – "Keeps my physical and metaphysical presence rooted to this Earth."
Multiversal Inertial Dampening – "Cancels the 'motion' my presence generates between timelines."
Chrono-Flux Stabilization – "Prevents my existence from distorting time flows here."
Quantum Tethering – "Binds me to specific coordinates in spacetime to resist drift."
Probability Scrubbing – "Nullifies paradoxical outcomes caused by cross-reality contamination."
"These five powers form a synthetic buffer between me and the Bleed," Raj explained. "Without them, I'd be yanked away the next time a reality spike hits. But they're not passive. They're active systems—I need to keep them running."
"Which means…" Match began.
"I can't use those slots for combat," Raj finished. "Not unless I want to risk getting ejected from Earth-16. Every time I fight, I'm already at half capacity. And it's getting harder."
At the center was their Earth—Earth-16—surrounded by a faint golden shield that was visibly deteriorating.
The vision shifted again, revealing darker spaces between universes—places where Monitor vessels once patrolled, now abandoned.
"Since the Crisis, the walls between worlds have been thinning," Raj explained.
Roy noticed certain Earths pulsed with unusual energy—Earth-0, Earth-1, Earth-2, Earth-3, Earth-50—acting as anchor points in the cosmic architecture.
"You two—you're not just backup. You're the firewall," Raj continued. "Train like Earth depends on it. Because one day... it will."
The vision collapsed, and Roy gasped as his consciousness slammed back into his physical body. He found himself sprawled on the meditation mat, drenched in sweat. Match sat perfectly still, processing what they'd witnessed. Raj looked drained, the shadows under his eyes more pronounced than ever.
"Why us?" Roy finally asked. "Why not the Justice League?"
"Because they're part of the established pattern," Raj answered wearily. "To change the outcome in the most efficient way, we need wildcards. Heroes who exist outside the system." His gaze shifted between them. "Heroes who know what it means to be used as weapons—and chose a different path."
The Observatory; September 01, 2010 – 11:22 EDT
August blurred into September as Roy underwent intensive preparation for the nanobot integration. Daily injections of immunosuppressants. Cognitive exercises to prepare his brain for the neural interface. Physical conditioning to ensure his body could withstand the stress.
Match divided his time between his own training and running missions with The Team. He and Superboy were getting along well, though he could sense a bit of jealousy and longing for approval.
On September 1, exactly three weeks after the confrontation in Star City, Roy lay on a medical bed in the observatory's main laboratory. The silver nanobot serum gleamed in an IV bag beside him.
"Last chance to back out," Raj said, checking Roy's vital signs one final time.
Roy stared at the ceiling; his expression resolute. "Three years in a Cadmus pod was enough waiting. Do it."
Raj nodded and inserted the IV needle into Roy's organic arm. "The nanobots are programmed to integrate with your neural pathways first, then establish a bridge between your organic tissue and the mechanical prosthetic. You may experience sensory hallucinations during the process."
As the silver fluid entered his bloodstream, Roy felt an immediate cold sensation spreading through his body. Then came the pins and needles, starting in his fingertips and racing toward his core. He gritted his teeth against the discomfort.
In his mindspace he turned toward the second star—a deep silver orb surrounded by thin threads of data and synthetic code. It pulsed in rhythm with Raj's own heartbeat, waiting.
He touched it.
[Star Selected: Bio-Digital Integration]
Pain lanced through his temples for a second as his neural patterns synced with the observatory's bio-tech systems. His mind reached downward—into the containment unit, into the nanobot serum's control matrix, into the sleeping artificial intelligence he'd painstakingly coded.
"Vital signs stable," Match reported from the monitoring station. "Neural activity increasing."
The sensation changed from cold to heat, a burning that wasn't quite pain cascading through Roy's synapses. Behind his closed eyelids, patterns began to form—complex mathematical sequences, fragments of code, geometric structures assembling and disassembling.
And then, a voice. Not heard through his ears, but directly in his mind.
[Neural sync at 98.7%. Hello, Roy Harper.]
The voice was feminine; with a slight accent Roy couldn't place—somewhere between British and South Asian.
"Who—" Roy began, before realizing he didn't need to speak aloud.
'Who are you?' he thought.
[I am Jeevika. Artificial Intelligence Convergence Protocol J-776. I am integrated with your neural network and will assist with combat optimization, physical diagnostics, and cognitive processing.]
Roy opened his eyes to find Raj watching him intently. "It worked," the scientist said, relief evident in his voice. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've got someone else in my head," Roy answered, flexing his organic hand. The sensation was different—sharper, more defined. He could feel each individual muscle fiber contracting.
"Jeevika is designed to augment, not override," Raj explained. "She'll learn your preferences, adapt to your fighting style, and eventually anticipate your needs."
Roy sat up slowly, expecting dizziness that never came. Instead, he felt... balanced. Centered in a way he hadn't experienced since before his captivity.
[I am detecting optimal functionality in all systems,] Jeevika reported internally. [Would you like a complete diagnostic review?]
'Later,' Roy thought back. 'Let's see what you can do first.'
He turned to Raj. "I want to test this. Now."
Fifteen minutes later, Roy stood in the training room facing a series of combat drones Raj had programmed with Shadow fighting techniques. His mechanical arm felt different—lighter, more responsive. The connection between his thoughts and its movements seemed instantaneous.
[Combat assessment initiating,] Jeevika's voice announced in his mind. [Analyzing opponent movement patterns. Calculating optimal responses.]
The drones attacked simultaneously from different angles. Roy—no, Arsenal—moved with fluid precision he'd never experienced before. Jeevika didn't control his movements; she enhanced them, highlighting openings he might have missed, calculating trajectories, predicting attack patterns milliseconds before they occurred.
His arm morphed between configurations with seamless grace—grappling line to Thanagarian energy shield to sonic disruptor to combat blade—each transformation perfectly timed to the microsecond. The nanobots had bridged the gap between man and machine, erasing the boundary where Harper ended and Arsenal began.
When the last drone fell, Arsenal stood breathing heavily in the center of the room. Match slow-clapped from the observation platform.
"Impressive," the Kryptonian clone acknowledged.
Arsenal flexed his mechanical fingers, watching as the nanobots enhanced the surface with an adaptive polymer coating that looked almost like skin. "Feels like my instincts grew fangs."
"Good," Raj said, reviewing the combat data. "You'll need them."
Arsenal grinned, feeling truly whole for the first time since his rescue. "Calling her Jeevika's too formal. I'm sticking with 'J'."
[Acknowledged] the AI responded in his mind.
The Observatory; September 03, 2010 – 03:22 EDT
Three days after the integration, Raj received an alert on his quantum communicator. His expression darkened as he reviewed the data.
"It's time," he announced abruptly. "The Bleed is calling me back. The pull has begun in earnest."
Arsenal and Match exchanged glances. They'd grown used to Raj's episodic exhaustion—moments when he'd stagger or lose focus as if fighting something invisible. But this was different. The air around him seemed charged, reality itself bending slightly in his presence.
"Will you be back?" Match asked.
Raj hesitated. "Eventually. This observatory is yours to use in my absence. J can access most of the systems." He handed Arsenal a data crystal. "This contains everything I know about the Light and ARGUS. Study it. Be ready."
Before either could respond, Raj's form began to shimmer with golden energy. "Trust each other," he said as his body dissolved into particles of rainbow light. "Trust yourselves." And then he was gone, leaving only a faint scent of ozone behind.
Arsenal and Match stood in silence for a long moment, processing this latest development.
[I have access to the observatory's defense grid and monitoring systems,] J informed Arsenal. [Several data breach attempts detected within the last hour. Cataloging and analyzing.]
"He knew this was coming," Match said quietly. "That's why he accelerated your integration."
Arsenal nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. "The firewall, he called us."
"Against what?" Match wondered.
Arsenal inserted the data crystal into the main console. Immediately, holographic projections filled the room—images of shadowy entities, alien activities, and illegal experiments dating back decades.
"Against that," Arsenal said, pointing to a specific screen.
[Nexus Protocol: The Light] J supplied helpfully.
The observatory hummed with dormant power, now theirs to command. Somewhere out there, the Justice League continued their missions, unaware of the true scale of what was coming.
Arsenal felt J's presence in his mind—not invasive, but reassuring. A partnership rather than a possession.
"So," Match said eventually, pulling Arsenal from his thoughts. "What's our first move?"
Arsenal studied the global map of anomalies, his enhanced mind calculating priorities with J's assistance.
"We find the others," he decided. "Raj mentioned other Cadmus escapees. Other projects. We build our own team."
"A counter-League?" Match raised an eyebrow.
Arsenal shook his head. "Something different. Something new." He looked at his mechanical hand, now seamlessly integrated with the nanobots. "Something wild."
As night fell, the observatory's automated systems activated, projecting a protective energy dome over the complex. Inside, two former weapons had become something neither Cadmus nor the Justice League had ever intended: independent heroes preparing for a war no one else could see coming.
The change had begun.
