"THIS WORLD HAS RAMEN!"
A few days had passed since the attack by Dr. Light, and things had begun to settle into a kind of stability. To Robin's relief, most of the ninjas had followed the 'no-killing' rule rather well, and had handled the subsequent situations quickly and professionally. So professionally, in fact, that the Titans had more time to themselves than ever before. Though three ninjas and one Titan were always on call, the remaining eleven teenagers were free to spend time as they wished. Even Robin, their leader, could manage to sit here in a restaurant with some of them, listening to Naruto expound on the glories of steamed noodles.
"Oh, and the VARIETIES! Okay, so it's not as good as Ichiraku's, but man, they must have like sixty different kinds here! I could try a new kind of ramen every meal for a week and not finish them all!" Naruto practically cried as he stuffed another forkful in his mouth. "I knew this world couldn't be all bad." He murmured reverently.
Cyborg, seated just next to Naruto, let out a snort. "Thanks man. Glad to hear the place isn't a total letdown."
"You're welcome." Naruto nodded, utterly lost in ramen. "Ohmanohmanohman. It even has something called 'chocolate ramen!' Oh, I GOTTA try that."
Part of the reason Robin had agreed to go on this trip was to learn more about the blonde. Clearly, the rest of the ninjas respected him, but it was difficult to see why. He definitely had the power to be a leader—his battle with Superman showed that, at least—but planning? Charisma? Decisive action? The blond didn't seem to have them. Leaving his followers largely to their own designs, he tended to take on all the burdens himself.
Taking on burdens was an excellent attribute for a leader, but so was knowing how to delegate said burdens. From what Robin could see, Naruto seemed to inspire more than truly lead. But then Robin hadn't really seen much of him at all, outside of what daily observation and interaction (supplemented by footage of every moment the teen spent inside the tower) had provided. Hence, this quick trip to the restaurant. He needed to directly interact with the blonde, try to figure out what made him tick.
So far, all he'd learned was that the boy had a passion for ramen.
"Is he always like this?" he questioned the other occupant of the table.
In response, Chouji grinned. "Pretty much. He eats ramen all the time back in Konoha. Hey, what's this 'steak' stuff that the menu recommends?"
"Dude, you've never had steak?" Cyborg offered the chubby boy a grin of his own. "We have GOT to take you to a barbeque sometime."
"Steaks are like barbeque? THAT stuff I know about." Chouji folded up his menu. "I'll take two."
"You know about barbeque, but not steak." Robin frowned.
"Yeah, why?"
Shaking his head, Robin decided to let it go. These inconsistencies usually weren't worth the trouble. As he glanced up, he caught Cyborg looking at him. "What?" he asked, annoyed.
Cyborg ducked his head immediately. "Nuthin... Nuthin, boss. It's just... kinda weird to see you without a mask."
Shrugging, Robin answered, "It's a little odd seeing you without the cybernetic implants."
"It is." Cyborg agreed, looking down at his solidly human body. "Sorta... freaky, really." A spasm of pain crossed his face. "What'd you guys call this... thingie you can do again?"
"Henge," answered Naruto, deep into his third bowl of Ramen. "It's like a transformation jutsu. We use it for disguises and such. Actually, I didn't know if it would work on you guys, but looks like it went okay."
Robin nodded, tracing his fingers over his new, unfamiliar face. It wasn't Dick Grayson's face, but it shared a frightening amount of similarities. And Cyborg, he knew, was doing his best not to spaz out over the sensation, however artificial, of being human again. Robin wasn't quite sure the added precaution was worth it—after all, the Titans went to lunch all the time in full costume—but it was a useful technique to at least be aware of, and it WAS nice to not be receiving so many stares from bystanders.
"Pity the others didn't come." Chouji's musing broke in on his thoughts. "Woulda been kinda fun to have a team meal."
Naruto let out a little snort of laughter. "C'mon, Chouji. Lee spends every minute in the training room, and Neji's gotta do matches with him SOMETIMES. Sakura's barely budged from that computer room since we got here—say, how's that going with her?"
Cyborg shrugged. "It's going okay. She picks up stuff pretty fast, I'll say that for her. I mean, she ain't gonna be writing Xbox games any day, but she's doing pretty well with what we've got."
"She always was the smart one," laughed Naruto. "Anyway, where was I?"
"Team meals." Robin supplied. Privately he pondered the wisdom of pressing Naruto on the subject of Sakura. The two had been nearly constantly avoiding each other since the day of arrival.
"Right, yeah. Anyway, so Sakura's doing her whole studying thing, Kiba's still trying to work out some jutsus that DON'T involve Akamaru; Shino, Hinata, and Sai are out on patrol with Starfire; and Ino... well, she doesn't eat much anyway."
"Doesn't do much of anything, recently," commented Robin, jumping on the chance. "Does she usually stay off by herself like that?"
A troubled expression across his face, Chouji shook his head. "No. No she doesn't. It's kinda bothering me too."
"Hm." Robin wondered momentarily if he should contact the League but discarded the idea. There was nothing inherently dangerous or suspicious about a young teenage girl wanting a private room to herself, far away from the others. Nor was there really anything wrong with her staying in that room 24/7 with the lights off. It was a trifle disturbing, but having Raven in the same tower put it more into perspective. Especially since Raven had been acting antisocial herself recently—more than normal, anyway.
A distant explosion made Robin glance up sharply and half-start from his seat. Cyborg stopped him with a motion. "Relax boss. We're on break."
"We could still check it out," commented Chouji. "They might need assistance."
"No, they'll be fine." Robin sat back down with a sigh. "If they need help they'll call for it."
Chouji shrugged. "If you say so."
"Huh." Naruto was glancing about the diner now, a ramen noodle dangling from his mouth. "You know, this place would be great for... hm."
"How do you guys deal with crooks back home?" asked Cyborg, ignoring Naruto's musings. "I mean, if everyone's super-powered, how do you handle so many meta-crooks?"
"They're not all... ah... like us. Civilians can't use chakra."
Robin frowned. "Seems like that would make it worse. How do the civilians deal with ultra-powered soldiers walking around their store or restaurant? Or, for that matter, having stealth operatives shop?"
"We have enforcement squads." Naruto finally re-entered the conversation. "Military police and the ANBU keep an eye on things in the village, especially ninja. Using jutsus in shops and such is forbidden."
"And if someone breaks the rules?"
"Then the ANBU nabs them. Nobody messes with the ANBU," shrugged Naruto.
"What if they do?" Robin found this interesting. The 'ANBU' sounded roughly equivalent to the superhero patrols. So what about supervillains?
Considering the question, Naruto frowned. "Depends. Generally, off-duty ninjas are discouraged from interfering in ANBU or police business. But if a fight gets bad enough, sometimes other ninjas will jump in to help. And if it's a major threat..." Naruto glanced to Chouji, "...we have a system set up to alert all ninja around the village, off-duty, retired, or otherwise, to come and help."
"I see." A whole CITY of superheroes, organized into a military structure, where any citizen off the street—well, not any, but most—could just leap up and help in the defense of the city... a fascinating vision. Dangerous, perhaps, but fascinating. Equivalent to a Grecian city-state, almost. "Your world sounds very interesting."
"My world is AWESOME, man."
Cyborg rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Because it has ramen?"
"Oh, does it ever! It has the most incredible ramen in the history of ramen! There's this one place, Ichiraku's..." Naruto got all misty on the edges of his eyes. "I... I better not talk about it. Dude, if I could, I'd run over there and grab a bowl so you could just see how incredible it is. I really wish that portal they're building was done already."
-------------------------------------
"So what's the main problem with the portal?" Superman frowned at the enormous metal circle before him.
"The main problem is that I don't know how to build it!" snapped Terrific, clearly irritated. "Oh, I got the schematics alright..." he waved toward the other metal circle in the room. "I've studied Batman's interdimensional window until I know it backwards. But that's a portal using technology VERY similar to ours to get to a parallel universe VERY close to ours." He paused. "By the way, why did Batman keep the portal to the Lords Universe?"
Shrugging, Superman responded: "He's Batman. It was probably for some back-up plan."
"I suppose so. Anyway, the point is that this sort of thing is completely different. We're trying to build a portal to a universe completely separate from our own. Even with the dimensional transpondance frequency we have from the satellites, it's not just a simple matter of plugging them in and starting the portal up. For all we know, we might not even be using the right technology! We might need to employ this... chakra energy of theirs in some kind of biomechanical creation just to get around the right area! And then there's the need to make sure we don't put THEM in an alternate universe of their OWN world..."
"Complicated then."
"Yes. Very."
Superman turned to the other occupant of the room. "Anything to offer, Dr. Fate?"
The golden helmet of the powerful magus shook in reply. "I fear not. I am... unfamiliar this source of energy they are using, this... chakra. I have no understanding of the energy imbibing your prisoner downstairs. Or rather, I have a slight understanding of it, but certainly not enough to manipulate it. I could, perhaps, risk it, but in this case, I cannot quite see the point."
"The point?" Superman arched an eyebrow at Dr. Fate. "We promised we do whatever we could to get these kids back to where they came from."
"True. But for the moment at least, the children are quite safe where they are. Indeed I might almost say they are exactly where they need to be." Shrugging, Dr. Fate continued, "In either case, I cannot help you in this matter."
"Guess you're on your own then, Terrific." Superman shot the scientist a glance, trying to hide his disappointment.
Fortunately, Mr. Terrific did not seem let down at all. "Didn't really figure this was the sort of thing Fate could help us with anyway. I can do it, it's just... difficult. Especially without any kind of understanding of what this 'chakra' is, or the 'Sharingan' that used it." Sighing, he glanced up at the metal ring again. "What would really be helpful is some kind of example to work from, but that's not likely to happen."
"No." Superman agreed. "Anyway, keep on it, and let us know if you need anything."
"Was there something else you wanted my help with?" asked Dr. Fate.
"Just your advice on something odd. Blue Devil said one of the girls in the group felt... strange, almost like his trident. Do you know what would cause something like that?"
Dr. Fate shook his head once again. "Blue Devil's magic is of a kind very different than my own, and I do not understand his trident at all. I fear I am spectacularly useless to your League on this occasion. However, I can perhaps summon a spirit better able to help you."
Looking up, the mage sighed. Puzzlement had written itself all across Superman's face. "Blue Devil is of the supernatural realm." Dr. Fate explained. "Specifically, connected to that of the afterlife. While I do have dealings in that sphere, it is a dangerous one to investigate. It would be better to ask an inhabitant of the realm—to summon a ghost, in other words." A touch of humor entered his voice. "You may, however, want to choose your ghost carefully. Most dead spirits prefer to stay dead, and may be unwilling to give you the information you need."
"Hm." Superman considered, then suddenly brightened. "You know, there was this one ghost who helped us before—Boston Brand, I think Bats said his name was."
"Ah. I know him, he is one of the servants of Rama Kushna." Dr. Fate nodded. "He still walks the earth, attempting to atone for his last crime. He would be willing to help you. Very well. I shall contact for you the one called Deadman."
-----------------------------
"Hey," waved Beast Boy as he waltzed into the room. "Where is everyone? This place is dead."
Kiba barely looked up from the scroll he was studying. "Chouji took some of them out to lunch, I think. Lee and Neji are still here, they're sparring downstairs. Sakura too, she's up in the control room. And I'm not sure, but I'd guess that Ino and your friend Raven are still in their rooms upstairs."
"Well yeah, if you count them." Beast Boy rolled his eyes, walking over to the boy. "Dunno what's come over Raven lately, she's acting past her normal level of weird lately."
"It's Naruto. Neji told me that Raven doesn't like him."
"Oh? I guess he is the sort that would get on her nerves. Still, she'll get over it eventually." Squatting, he peered at the Japanese characters on the scroll. "What're you up to?"
"Studying jutsus," answered Kiba. "Don't ask me WHY Sakura carries spare earth jutsu scrolls with her on missions, but she does, and I'm trying to see if I can use any of them."
"Why?"
"Because without Akamaru, half my jutsu's don't work, that's why. I need new ones if I'm going to be anything but a hindrance on missions."
"Oh. Right." Wrinkling his nose in thought, Beast Boy asked hesitantly, "Akamaru... that's like... your big wolf-dog... back in Konoha. Right?"
"He's my partner. I do everything with him. Walk, work, ride, fight... everything." Kiba's mouth hardened in a firm line. "Inuzuka children are practically raised alongside their dogs, they feed and train them themselves. I understand him better than I do most humans."
"Uh-huh. And he didn't make the jump with the rest of you guys?"
"Apparently not. Either that, or he's still out there in the world. Maybe that one bald guy has him. I don't know. The only thing for sure is that without him, I'm nothing. I've never been without him for long before." Fisting a handful of scroll, Kiba continued, "So until we can find him, I study jutsus. Except Sakura only keeps low-chakra techniques that require insane amounts of control which I don't HAVE!"
"Hm." Beast Boy studied the scroll as it flew across the room. "Bummer."
"You're telling me." Kiba leaned back with a sigh. "What're you doing here, anyway?"
A shrug. "I was bored. Tried to go up to talk to Raven, but she's not feeling very talkative lately."
"Surprise."
"It is, actually. I mean, okay, she gets annoyed when I run off at the mouth all the time, but usually she at least hears me out or makes a snarky comment or something. Doesn't usually seal the door with dark magic like that."
"What, when you started talking?"
"No, it was like that when I got there. Too bad really, I was even shifted in dog form. She loves me in dog form!"
Kiba eyed the hyperactive youngster dubiously. "She does?"
"Oh yeah!" A second later there was a green beagle with enormous eyes looking up at him. "See? Who couldn't love a face like this?"
"It looks stupid." Kiba frowned.
"Does not!" The beagle took on an irritated expression. "Anyway, it's not like that's the only form I can use on her. I can do every single dog form in the world!"
"Every?"
"Every single one! Here, tell me what Akamaru looks like. Betcha I can copy him!"
Kiba snorted. "Trust me. They don't got dogs like him here."
"So? C'mon, give me a try with this!"
"Okay." Kiba shifted wearily around to look at the beagle. "Picture maybe... I dunno, one of your wolves, roughly the size of a horse..."
---------------------------------
"You seem to be coming along quite well, Miss Karin."
Karin started away from the railing and nearly dropped her clipboard. "L-l-l-luthor-san!" She gasped. "I did not know you were..."
"That's the point of a surprise inspection, Miss Karin. You're NOT supposed to know," reminded Luthor as he stepped to the railing beside her. Below them, hundreds of bubbling tubes housed fragile pink blobs of humanity, wires and tubes sprouting from every aperture. "How are the clones coming along? I can see the progress myself, but tell me if there's anything I'm NOT seeing."
Swallowing, Karin summoned up her nerve. "Thirty-six test embryos are currently developing under the altered conditions we determined from the third test group. So far, twelve of them show promising developments, but the rest are scheduled to be drained tomorrow, when we will begin autopsies. The four still surviving prototypes from test group three are also undergoing examination, one has begun degeneration..."
"Miss Karin, I SAID I can see the progress for myself." Luthor gave her a terse look. "I receive daily reports as to the results of your experimentation. What I want you to tell me is what you yourself have observed."
"Yes... forgive me. Well, from what I myself have observed, I doubt very much that any of the embryos will develop Curse Seal blood. I can't detect any latent chakra signatures in them at this stage, something they really should have formed by now. As I told you earlier, I'm not entirely sure cloning will work, as the chakra technique..."
"Your opinion does not concern me. Continue the cloning experiments." Luthor gave her a cold, imperious glance.
Karin nearly choked. "Y-yes sir. It may be possible to STIMULATE chakra through direct injection of chakra energy—provided by one of the ninjas, perhaps."
"Better. Any suggestions as to which ninja would be most useful?"
"Well..." Karin flipped through her clipboard. "The chief difficulty is that the ninja has to be a willing participant in the exchange. "It's not quite so simply a matter of extracting chakra and pumping it back in. Procedures for that exist, but I don't think we have the means here. The ninja must be an expert in chakra control to..."
"Miss Karin. I asked you for a suggestion, not an explanation."
"Y-yes sir. The best candidate would ah... probably be myself."
Cocking an eyebrow, Luthor looked at the young woman. "And why is that?"
"I am a medical ninja by profession, Luthor-san. I heal myself and others through the direct application of chakra to their system, usually through the oral cavity. Hence, I am the one most qualified to conduct this procedure. Also," a terrified glimmer of a smile flickered across her face, "I am the only one likely to consent to such a procedure. The Nara is too intelligent and might try something, and the other... though she perhaps possesses the training and control, she would never agree to it."
"I see." Luthor glanced down again, studying a tube occupant. "What does this procedure involve?"
Karin hesitated. "Um... the recipient of the chakra... needs to... bite me."
A pause. Luthor turned slowly from the glowing tanks and studied her.
"W-well..." Karin hastened to explain, her words practically tumbling over each other. "My skin has an inordinate amount of chakra you see—in the early days I specifically infused it to enhance my appearance—and thus I have a great deal of surplus chakra stored within my epidermal cells, chakra that can only be released by breaking the epidermal layer. Using the outlet generally used for ingesting chakra makes it easier..."
"That's quite enough." Rolling his eyes, Luthor dismissed the explanation with a wave of his hand. "I don't even WANT to know." He turned back to the tanks. "So we get the embryos to bite you. I think the group three survivors are the only ones with teeth, so you'd best do it tomorrow."
"Y-yes sir."
"And the hybrids? How are those coming?"
"Better, sir. Much better. The injection of Juugo's blood into human test subjects has yielded a number of promising results, although there ARE the standard casualties to insanity and death. We're working to minimize that right now. As I told you, my former master himself never perfected the use of the curse seal, but then..." Karin cast a semi-admiring glance around her workspace. "...he didn't have equipment like this."
"Indeed. I must congratulate you, Miss Karin, on picking up on all this new technology so quickly. Your skill in genetics is really quite impressive. But then..." he cast a look down at her and smirked, "...you have plenty of motivation, do you not?"
Karin's hand itched to touch the device attached to her neck, but she kept them firmly gripped on her clipboard. "Y-yes, Luthor-san." She answered quietly. "Thank you for letting the surgeons use anesthetic during the procedure, sir."
"Why wouldn't I?" The man lifted an amused eyebrow. "Anesthetic is essential in such an operation, it keeps blood pressure down and lessens the possibility of trauma to the spinal cord."
"M-my old master... wouldn't have bothered with it..."
The bald man gave a little snort. "Your old master sounds like a very twisted man. Or a very stupid one. Probably both. Operating without anesthetic serves no purpose except the arousal of pain, which makes the operation much more risky and much more difficult. Science is science, using science to indulge your taste for cruelty is just senseless. It's no wonder he didn't have much luck with his clones."
"As... you say, sir."
"We do not engage in senseless cruelty here. Cruelty, yes, but purposeful cruelty." Luthor smiled thinly at the tanks lining the walls. "Science is not about gratification of the sensations or of the ego. Science is about results. About applications. About POWER. Getting distracted toward one or the other results in unprofitable science. The purpose of the explosive is not to terrify you or show you my power. It is merely there to kill you if you deviate from your purpose."
"Y-yes sir."
Turning from the railing, he gave Karin a small nod. "Miss Karin, I shall be back to observe your progress tomorrow." With a light pat on her neck and a somewhat predatory smile, he left the room.
---------------------------------
"Ah! This world has not lessened your skill, my eternal rival!"
"Please stop calling me that."
Robin smirked at the voices emitting from the training room. Although Lee and Neji had been at it since this morning, he couldn't say he was surprised to find them still going on his return from the restaurant. Lee had all of Flash's enthusiasm and Neji all of Batman's stubbornness. What the 'eternal rivalry' bit meant he still didn't quite understand—certainly the Hyuuga did not seem to consider it valid—but he had seen enough for him to expect that this fight would probably last for the better part of the afternoon.
Robin had expected Lee and Neji to still be at work, and that was why he had come down here. Of late, he'd found the two martial-arts (taijutsu, they called it) specialists to be rather interesting. He'd watched a great many of their fights and felt he was on the verge of... something.
Pausing for a moment outside the door, Robin prepared himself, unsure what the room was set as today. The ninjas had quickly become fascinated with the training room, especially its 'solid holograms' technology they had adopted from the Justice League. From their constant talk of 'genjutsu,' Robin gathered that they had some familiarity with the concept, but not the execution. Personally, Robin couldn't see the point of an illusion that could be broken through physical pain, but he could hardly expect their methods to work the same as his. And he supposed driving someone insane through illusions had a sort of twisted logic to it. In either case, they recognized the potential of using a 'genjutsu' to train in and constantly tried out new simulations on it. Lee, unsurprisingly, had gone through all.
So, when he opened the door to find only the plain blank room that the training area was, he felt a trifle disappointed. But that was swiftly made up by the action of the two combatants on the floor.
Lee shot around his opponent at a remarkable speed, weaving in and out of the deadly hands and their blue glow. Something else Robin didn't understand—apparently Neji could target internal organs. Supposedly he never actually did so during their training sessions, but Lee certainly behaved as if he did. Not one of Neji's thrusts or kicks ever came close to touching the green-clad chunin (THAT term Robin knew, though it seemed an odd one). The feat was all the more remarkable because Lee was operating under a handicap. Even at this distance, Robin could see the bulge of the weights around his ankles.
Sure, the weights on his leg couldn't be very heavy at that size, but still—the feat was rather remarkable.
He continued to watch the two at work. Neji's power made his strikes formidable, but they were rigid, predictable. They all followed the same rules, they all struck in the same way. His strange eyes meant that you couldn't take advantage of the usual openings, but the moves themselves were predictable.
Apparently Lee knew this too, as he could clearly anticipate nearly every one of Neji's blows and avoid them. But he too, operated in a very straightforward, linear attack pattern. Crazy fast, yes, but predictable. If the other opponent had quick enough eyes and reflexes...
Robin made his decision. "Hey." He called to the two. "Let me have a try."
-------------------------------------
Please, give me another chance Bruce. Please give me a chance you pompous, brooding man, or so help me I will... Just one more try. Please let me have just one more try before you hole up in that cave and molder away your life in...
"Princess." The monotone greeted her as she materialized in the cave. Batman did not even look up from the computer. "Glad you could make it on such short notice."
"Not like there's much else going on at the Watchtower." Diana shrugged as she ambled up to his side. "At least, not much that I can actually help with. Still... this is important, isn't it? Not just you wanting to berate me about my actions in Gotham?"
Batman's gaze did not flicker from the computer. "A little of both," said he, tapping a few keys on the computer. Instantly images lit up the screen, showing a riot of some kind in downtown Gotham. A crowd of armed gunmen clad in tan jumpsuits surrounded a pile of cars, upon which a curiously feline figure was perched. She seemed to be shouting something.
Peering at the images, Wonder Woman frowned. "Oh, I recognize her. Cheetah, right?"
"Correct," nodded Batman. "Cheetah, the result of unauthorized lab tests involving feline stem cells. Former associate of Luthor's, consistent annoyance to the League. Despite abilities, generally imprisoned for nothing worse than theft, assault and battery, and the occasional act of terror."
"Hm. Haven't seen her since Grodd's Legion broke up."
"She's been completely off the radar until now. Very few crimes have been actually traced to her, and until she showed up in Gotham last night, her whereabouts were unknown. Judging from her recent appearance, however, she has been busy." Batman tapped on a few more keys and other images sprung to life. "She's picked up some new... enhancements, and apparently grabbed some followers."
"Some men will follow any pretty face." Diana snorted.
Although his face twitched in an odd manner, Batman replied only, "Yes."
"Well very interesting Bruce, but what're you showing me all this for? Why not just call the League in on her? Or handle it yourself?"
"Because you should make up for your mistakes, that's why."
"Me?" If she hadn't been so shocked, Diana would have punched the man. "What makes you say this is my fault?"
Finally, Batman swiveled around in his chair to glare directly at her. "You exposed yourself."
Diana blinked. "What?"
"You flew. In public." The bat-glare deepened. "I let you into Gotham ONLY because you promised to follow my rules. Making a spectacle of yourself is decidedly against those rules."
"You're saying this is my fault because a bunch of people saw me?" This time Diana nearly DID punch him. "Bruce, Clark flies around Metropolis all the time!"
"Exactly."
"What?"
With a sigh, Batman laced his fingers together and gazed at them. "It may perhaps be hard for you to understand, Diana, but here it is. Criminals respond to challenges. A master thief robs a bank partly because he wants the money, but partly also because it is difficult. The greater the challenge, the more criminals will strive to overcome it."
"Heroes, like us, are simply one more challenge." Batman gestured at the screen again. "Yes, Superman flies around Metropolis all the time. How many ultra-powered criminals have appeared there since he began crime-fighting? You seriously think it is mere coincidence that attracts them to Metropolis and not to simply, say, Kalamazoo? Crooks like Parasite and Luminus could go to rob anyplace, but they choose to remain in Metropolis because they want to be the one to defeat Superman. How many super-villains has Luthor created for that express purpose? How many have created themselves for the same reason?" Batman gestured with his hands. "No sooner does a powerful hero arise in a city than powerful criminals begin to flock there for the honor of defeating the strongest man on earth."
Diana said nothing. It made an unfortunate amount of sense.
"I had... hoped to save Gotham from this kind of escalation." Batman continued, returning his gaze to his fingers. "True, Gotham has metas of its own, but they are manageable, containable. I don't have to destroy an entire city block just to defeat Killer Croc, or even Bane. There's a reason why insurance rates are so high in Metropolis, and in turn a reason why barely anyone can afford to live there. I work from the shadows, I remain as inconspicuous as possible, and hence the metas ignore this city." A small grin tugged at his face. "As a mere man, I present no challenge, after all."
"So you've been keeping the League from this city to make it appear unimportant."
"Exactly. Meta-criminals have no interest in Gotham. Gangsters do, because it is the only place most feel they have a chance. But so do businesses, research centers, and new families. While Metropolis' tourism business has been booming, Gotham's industry and population have been growing at unprecedented rates. Most people would rather live in a city where the buildings stay standing."
"I... see." Diana blinked, her mind reeling. All this was very new to her, very different from the world of warriors and battles she'd known in Themyscira and the Justice League. She had never really considered the domestic or economic side of their work. And she'd never thought that Bruce considered it either.
A snort interrupted her thoughts. "Bruce Wayne is not completely a disguise. I am also a businessman." Clearly reading her mind, Batman glared at her.
"Of... of course." Diana returned her interest to the screen. "So... you're saying that I've given Gotham a reputation for supers, and now the supervillains will start coming."
"Like moths to a candle." Batman turned back to the computer. "Don't expect me to believe that Cheetah's appearance, within a week of your own, is any sort of coincidence."
"Give me some sort of credit, Bruce. I can see the connection there easily enough." Diana snorted, momentarily forgetting herself.
Batman gave an almost-apologetic nod. "Very well." He paused a moment. "This time, Princess, can I expect you to better abide by my rules?"
Shooting a disbelieving look at the crimefighter, Diana cleared her throat several times before responding. "Well... yes, of course. Now that I understand the reasoning behind them." She hesitated, unsure as to the wisdom of pressing further. "But... Bruce? Why are you inviting me to take care of this? Isn't this... I mean, it seems like normally you'd just take care of her yourself."
For a moment there was a silence, and Diana stood there in confused anxiety. Finally, with a sigh, Batman swiveled his chair around to face her.
"Something else has been happening in Gotham since you arrived." He admitted. "The gangs, cartels, and mobs have been falling apart. Members are leaving, children on the streets no longer flock to the nearest racket boss. And there's more." Uncharacteristically, he hesitated, and then, with a grimace, continued. "The people in Gotham have started to stand up against the criminals. Just small reports, mind you—an officer who refused to cooperate, a clerk who tackled a gunman—but it's something I'd never thought to see."
"So." He shrugged. "If you disappear, the criminals return and gain more power than ever before. The people lose heart and become even more servile than before. For the time being, then, it's important you remain in Gotham." His glare quickly stopped the smile rising on the Amazonian's lips. "But it will be on MY terms, princess."
-----------------------------------
Naruto had had a lot of stupid ideas in his life. Stealing the scroll. Mouthing off to everyone in class. Challenging Neji. Chasing after Sasuke. Stupid ideas filled his brain like air filled a balloon. By this point, he could even recognize a stupid idea as it formed.
So, as he stood before Raven's door and stared at the numerous strange symbols surrounding it, he could tell, this was a stupid idea. But that had never really stopped him before, so he knocked on the door anyway.
He felt almost surprised when the door opened immediately and an irate Raven stepped out. "Gar, I told you, I..." She stopped. "Oh. It's you." Though she rolled her eyes, she did not leave the door. "Fine. What is it?"
"Um... I wanted to talk to you."
"So?"
"Ah..." This girl's stare rather disconcerted him. It felt something like meeting a much calmer Gaara. "Well... the guys at the watchtower said you were a demon host of some kind. Y'know, like me."
Raven winced slightly. "So?"
"Well... you just seem to have yours under better control, that's all. I was wondering if you could teach me how to control Kyuubi." Naruto tried a winning smile. Asking a GIRL for help was a slightly new experience for him—his harem-no-jutsu would have no effect here.
"Kyuubi? Nine-tails?" The girl gave a little snort. "That's what yours is called?"
"Yeah. Can you help me get him under control?"
"No."
"What?" Not much of a surprise really, but he simply had to know more. "Why not?"
In response, Raven shrugged. "It's pointless. Besides, I don't like you."
He'd expected that. Neji had told him. "Why? We're both jinchuuriki! We need to stick together, we... we're really pretty similar, if you think about it!"
"Not really." Raven shook her head. "I'm not this jinchuuriki of yours. I'm more like... I guess you'd call it a hanyou. A half-demon. I don't really contain a demon so much as provide a portal for one to destroy the world."
"Wait, what?" Naruto blinked.
"Exactly," nodded Raven, eyes neutral. "I seriously doubt you've been through the experience of destroying your entire home world and nearly destroying your new one."
Naruto frowned. "Maybe not, but everybody always expected me to."
"Another difference. None of my friends believed I would." She frowned. "I don't know what it's like to have people hate you for something you didn't do. I only know what it is to go through life knowing you're fated to kill everyone, even your friends, someday." Her eyes narrowed. "You tell me, which is worse?"
"Don't YOU start with the fate crap." Naruto seethed. The girl was starting to get on his nerves. "How am I supposed to know?"
"Exactly. You're not supposed to. You can't. Just as I can't know what it's like to be you." Once again Raven turned toward the room. "Thus why my help is pointless. I don't understand demon hosts because I'm a hanyou, and I don't understand YOU because I've never had your background. The only thing I DO understand about you is your demon, and even if Trigon says he's a pitiful weakling, I don't trust him. Or your friend, for that matter."
"My friend?" Naruto blinked.
"That white-eyed girl." Raven spoke over her shoulder, her hand on the door. "Trigon might despise you, but he's SCARED of her. And Trigun hasn't been scared of anything for as long as I can remember."
--------------------------------
"Fascinating." Neji observed. "I have never seen another taijutsu fighter to match Lee like that."
"Martial arts... we call them... here," panted Robin. Despite the Hyuuga's words of praise he could not help feeling chagrined. Lee had been exhausted, handicapped, and predicatable, and stlll it had taken him forever to defeat the green chunin. He had intended to battle Neji after, but he saw now that was out of the question.
Lee, at least, did not seem dampened by his loss. "Yosh, my youthful comrade!" he cried, eyes filled with tears. "Once again I find a worthy rival to pit myself against. I must fight you thirty thousand more times, and then I must..."
"Afraid that's out of the question." Robin shook his head wearily. "I don't think I have the strength for thirty thousand more matches."
"Then at least tell me how to improve my fighting skills, so that I might learn from you, most worthy rival!"
Robin cocked an eye at Neji, who simply shrugged. "I must confess I'm puzzled by it myself."
"Very well," shrugged Robin. "You all rely far too strongly on a particular form of combat. Lee moves quickly, but he only knows one martial... ah, taijutsu style, and that makes his moves more predictable. Also, you telegraph your moves rather strongly... I'd say because you're compensating for the momentum your weighted feet have. Though I admire your devotion to train with them on, I think it might be more beneficial to take them off for fights so that you can move more nimbly."
Neji's mouth twitched. "That is not wholly probable. Very well, what else?"
"The style he uses is much too straightforward. If I were you, I should add some variety to your talents by learning other kinds of... taijutsu. Instead of making faster moves, focus on making more unpredictable ones."
"As you did, my youthful comrade?" Lee's face was intent on Robin's every word.
"I've been trained in nearly sixty-four different forms of unarmed combat." Robin nodded. "It makes my attacks rather... unique."
Neji inclined his head. "So I observed."
"You suffer from the same problem, by the way. You only know one style of combat, and it's a tight, rigidly controlled style. You should think of new ways to implement your ability, so you can take opponents off-guard."
"Unfortunately, that is not very doable." Neji frowned. "Jyuuken and straight taijutsu are about the only two different attack styles in Konoha. Or, indeed, in the world, so far as I know. There is Drunken Fist, of course, but that cannot be learnt."
Robin cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously? A whole world of fighters and you only have two styles of marti... taijutsu?"
"Indeed yes." Lee nodded sadly, then suddenly brightened. "But now that we are here in this world, Robin-san, perhaps you can teach us these other styles you know! In that manner we can all improve ourselves!"
"That would be... interesting." Neji agreed.
Robin considered this a moment. While he did not especially look forward to the prospect of fighting Lee every day, it had been a while since he had a decent opponent in this area. And it would definitely sharpen his reflexes. Plus, the boy's style was totally different from any of the martial arts he knew. It would definitely be useful to study.
After a moment, he nodded. "Very well then."
--------------------------
"The guards tell me you have quite the provocative nature, Miss Tenten." Luthor smiled down on the glaring girl. "Are the accommodations not to your liking?"
'The accommodations' were not terribly different from they had been at the beginning. The girl lay, cuffed to the bed, tilted up to face Luthor. A series of tubes and wires took care of all her bodily needs, but for mental stimulation she had little else besides blank white walls to stare at. Even the machines she was hooked to were located behind her bed, where she could not see them. The lack of stimulation was designed to either make her talk or drive her crazy. Possibly both.
At his first session with this girl, Luthor had tried the bed's electro-shocking ability. The lack of affect it had on the girl convinced him to try another tack, and so he'd left her alone for the next few days. Looking at the records, he saw those had been a rather interesting few days.
"I hear you've been quite abusive with my guards. Several of them have even tried to shoot you for your behavior." Luthor consulted the clipboard in his hands, though perfectly aware of what it said. "Five, it says. In less than a week. Quite impressive, Miss Tenten, my guards are very well-trained, it takes a good deal to provoke them. I had to execute three of them for their unprofessional behavior." He leant forward, rubbing his chin with one hand. "Now, whatever could have you so agitated?"
Stone fury gazed back at him. The girl kept her lips tightly clamped.
"Shall I tell you what I think?" He paused. "I think you are interested in their weaponry."
For an instant, shock cracked the stone façade and her eyes widened slightly, but it was gone in another moment.
This girl was SO amusing. Quite the study in defiance. "You're a very weapons-oriented person, Miss Tenten. When you arrived here, my assistants removed nearly fourteen different weapons concealed on your person." Luthor smiled at the sudden flame that filled the girl's cheeks. "In addition, we detected nearly seventy weapons in those... scrolls you were carrying. As the scrolls are full of nothing of writing, we still don't know how that's possible, but I have the utmost faith in my sensors." He paused. "I don't suppose you'd care to tell us how you do that."
Again, the girl said nothing, but there was just a hint of triumph about her.
"Ah well. We'll find it eventually. For the time being, the point is that we know you to be a very weapons-oriented person. And, given your behavior, I believe this fixation has carried over to your imprisonment." Luthor leaned a little closer to enjoy the slightly wary look growing on the girl's face. "I have video cameras in these cells, you realize. I've observed nearly every 'incident' you provoked, and I find it rather interesting how, throughout each incident, your attention is always focused not on the guard, but rather the weapon he holds."
The girl shook her head, just a touch too quickly. Now he had her. Nervous, questioning, beginning to lose faith in the image she was keeping up. A touch of flattery, now, to delude her into thinking she was in control.
"You're quite a resolute individual, Miss Tenten, and I imagine it would take quite a while to break you traditionally. So I propose a deal. You tell me certain things I wish to know, and in return, I allow you to play with the little toys you see the guards use each day."
Even her stone face could not fully hide the eagerness flickering across her eyes. Slowly, tentatively, her mouth parted. "One question for one hour."
"You can't expect me to make much off of that. Three questions for every hour, but you will have three different weapons to use. Under controlled conditions, of course." With practiced ease Luthor kept the smile from his face. Rotating the weapons would make it much harder for her to learn how to use them. 'Controlled conditions' could be controlled enough to make whatever she DID learn negligible. And, even then, the weapons they gave her could be... altered enough to make sure she never learned anything useful.
The girl's eyes flickered back and forth as she thought, obviously warring between her inclination and obstinance. Luthor waited, already sure of the answer. All her answers would be lies, of course, but he would glean the truth from them.
"Okay. Deal."
-------------------------
Hinata didn't really like fighting. It wasn't that she was bad at it—indeed, by ordinary standards she was quite capable—it was that she often couldn't see the point. Especially on missions, where often the point was the fulfillment of some arbitrary contract filed by an unseen client. Whenever Hinata fought, it was more for her teammates than the mission. It meant that she would probably never be a good ninja, but it was the only thing that could really motivate her. Almost instinctively, she moved to defend more than attack.
In that sense, Hinata loved the type of work they did in Jump City. The missions had clearly defined reasons behind them, and most revolved around protecting the populace. The only downside was that she was utterly useless at it.
Not... Hinata's normal kind of useless. Not useless in the sense that she could never work up the willpower or courage, useless in the sense that she had no actually helpful abilities. Sure, the Byakugan was useful for locating and pursuing criminals, but beyond that—without visible chakra pathways, Hinata coulb not target the usual weak points. She didn't have Neji's talent for locating organs, even if that was still a viable option.
Hence, Hinata's role, in most patrols, was crowd control. Usually, the Titans didn't have such a role, and the ninjas DEFINITELY didn't. However, it did make the job of the fighters much easier, as they didn't have to worry about harming the civilians and were able to completely focus on the villain.
And in a fight with someone like Mumbo the Magnificient, focus was key.
"And now my amazing assistant will escape from the box of knives!" The green-faced man giggled. "Or perhaps he won't. Makes no difference to me."
Said box burst apart and Sai leapt at the madman.
"Allaa Kazamm!" Mumbo's wand suddenly grew to twice its length and knocked the Root nin back. "Now for my disappearing act!" With a great leap, Mumbo started bounding away.
"Pursue, friend ninjas!" Starfire shouted, eyes blazing. "The Mumbo must not be allowed to escape!"
"Pursuit already in progress," nodded Shino, leaping ahead of the pack. Shino's vendetta against this particular criminal worried Hinata, she thought that perhaps Mumbo's "flea circus" transformation of Shino's kikai bugs had somewhat... irked the normally logical Aburame.
Fortunately, Sai seemed to be more than up to the task. "Occupying flank position." He nodded, moving over to the side. "Bearing of target?"
"Due west, five kilometers an hour." Hinata answered.
Ninjas moved quickly. Tamaranians flew. Mumbo's attempted getaway was a lost cause from the beginning, really. They caught up with him somewhere in a run-down residential area and quickly circled him. Mumbo, however, showed no signs of giving up.
"Abracadabra!" A piano materialized from thin air and plummeted toward Shino, who merely leapt aside with a huff of annoyance. Two streams of bugs shot out from his sleeves at the magician, who merely flicked his fingers, turning them into confetti. However, the distraction allowed Sai to run up behind the intruder, even as Starfire flew up into the air to unleash a barrage.
That, however, was their business. Hinata's was crowd control. There were a lot of people in this area, all of them were in danger, and Hinata was nearly panicking with the task of protecting them all. She barely managed to shatter the piano before it hit the crowd of people on the sidewalk, and the spray of deflected kunai as Sai launched his attack nearly speared (or at least badly injured) three bystanders.
"Apologies, but you must stop, green man!" A stream of green energy shot down from the air, apparently missing the magician as it smashed into the building just behind him.
Hinata's eyes widened. The rubble... ohnoohnoohnoohno... The ground flew under her feet as she dove for a small black girl directly in its path. Please let me get there, please let me get there...
She didn't get there in time. Fortunately, an old man did, nearly a second before her. He had been running for cover from the kunai, saw Starfire's blast, and leapt at the girl. Though considerably closer than Hinata, he was also considerably slower, and merely an inch away from danger, he tripped and fell, right into the path of another boulder. He and the girl looked up, their eyes widened...
"Hai!" Hinata screamed, leaping over them. Bursting into a premature version of the Celestial Spin, she blew the rock away and into the air, nearly missing Mumbo, who faltered in his next spell and took a direct hit from Starfire.
Hinata sighed with relief as the madman tumbled earthward, his spells dissolving. Turning to the man and girl, she did her best to smile as she asked: "Are you alright?"
The little girl just whimpered, staring up at her with frightened eyes, but the elderly man seemed to be much more cognizant of matters. "Ah... yes. Yes we are." He answered, straightening his glasses and brushing bits of concrete from his sweater. "My leg hurts, but there's nothing new about that. Thank you, young lady."
"Let me take a look at your leg," offered Hinata, bending over the man.
"Don't bother. Honestly." A strange light came into his eyes as he looked at her. "Tell me, young lady, " asked he suddenly, "are you Hyuuga Hinata?"
"What?" cried Hinata. Jump City residents were getting used to the ninjas, but few recognized them on sight, and NONE had recognized her, the crowd-control specialist. Still, she managed to get ahold of herself. "I mean... yes, I am. How... Why do you ask?"
"Amazing." The man murmured, seemingly to himself. "I don't know how he does it. Or rather, I do, I suppose, but..." he shook his head with a whimsical smile. "Young lady, I have a message for you. I was sent here to give it to you."
"Message?" blinked Hinata, sparing a glimpse to her teammates. "What message? From whom?"
The man offered her an understanding smile. "Oh, come now. You must know that. Or at least, have an idea."
Hinata did have an idea. A very unsettling idea.
"My friend says there's a lot you still need to know to prepare for what's coming." An annoyed expression crossed the man's face for a moment. "I wish he'd be a bit more clear with his messages sometimes. I don't even know what that means." Again he shook his head. "Anyway. He said that he'd like to talk with you someplace outside the Tower, in the city."
"Where?" Hinata half-whispered.
A shrug came in reply. "He didn't say. I'm afraid he's horribly remiss in finding convenient spots to talk to people. Say..." The man frowned in thought a moment. "Ah. The very place. Tell you what, go to the Noodle Nexus at 11am next week. That should be good. I'll let him know about it, and you can meet each other there." He offered a grandfatherly smile. "Sound good? And please child, don't worry. He's not nearly as scary as he seems."
----------------------------------
"Drunk found wandering along M-45... false trail." Question mused, exiting the police station. "Drunk obviously not Uchiha. Where then?" He shook his head. "Next incident." He reminded himself, picking a notebook from his trenchcoat. "Armored car robbery, I-89. Case investigated by a Detective Beckett of Jump City police, division 43. Report filed in police Archives." Nodding, he moved toward the blue sedan parked at the side of the road.
"What exactly are we doing again?" asked Huntress as Question slid into the driver's seat.
"Hunting a fugitive." Question replied, starting the car.
"Well this hunt stinks. We're not finding anything."
"We're scouting the territory. Searching for trails the fugitive might have left." Edging the car out into the road, Question continued, "Fugitive is of a naturally violent nature and unfamiliar with world. Would undoubtedly attract attention on escape from Jump City. Therefore, necessary to investigate disturbances recorded upon day of fugitive's assumed flight from Jump City."
"Hmph." Huntress pouted, staring out the window. "When you said we were going on a road trip, I had something a little less boring in mind."
"Most hunts are boring, in the initial phases. A successful hunter must sometimes stalk his prey for many miles, must sometimes sit in one spot for many hours waiting for his prey to come to him."
"Question, my name is HUNTRESS."
"Actually, your name is Helena..."
"Okay, the callsign is Huntress, whatever. I KNOW about hunting. I know it's boring. Road trips, though, are not." She glowered at him. "At least they're not supposed to be. They're supposed to be spent jumping from random motel to motel, living with no thought for tomorrow, driving past beautiful scenery... that kind of thing."
"And don't you enjoy the beautiful scenery of the ghettos?" A touch of amusement entered the faceless man's voice.
"Q..."
"We'll jump to a random motel fairly soon. I'm afraid I'm out of practice with living with no thought for tomorrow. In the meantime, why don't you sit back and enjoy the eccentric charm of my presence?"
Huntress rolled her eyes and leaned back in the seat. "You do realize you're lucky to have me along, right? I don't do League business."
"This isn't League business."
A half-hour later, they pulled up outside a rather formidable-looking station. "Wait here," said Q, opening his door.
Snorting, Huntress kicked her own door open. "As if. I've been warming the car seat all night. YOU stay here, I'll get this pretty file of yours."
"Suit yourself." Question shrugged, handing her a notecard. "Here's the number. It should be in the archives on the third floor, west wing."
Taking the card with a nod, Huntress fired a cable up to the roof and shot away. Question watched her for a moment, then reached over to the radio and clicked it on. Pop music floated through the car as he reclined his seat back and waited. Occasionally he checked his watch.
Fifteen minutes later, muffled shouts issued from the windows, and the crack of pistols filled the air. Question popped his chair back up and started the engine, arching an eyebrow at the building as he did so. A few moments later, Huntress crashed from a second-floor window, landing heavily on the street and dashing over to the car. Bullets whizzed through the air and popped against the pavement as police officers crowded the windows. Question set the car in drive, picking up speed as he headed towards her. Scarcely stopping, she grabbed hold of the car's door and swept inside, shouting, "Go!"
Question quietly complied, foot slamming down on the gas. A few shells clattered against the rear window, but they were soon left behind. A screech of tires whipped them into an inconspicuous alley, and moments later they were quietly watching flashing lights race by on the main streets.
"You're getting better at stealth." Question commented. "It took them much longer to notice you."
Huntress rewarded him with a glare. "Shut it. If it weren't for you and your stupid 'don't kill the police officers' rule, I'd be in and out of there in no time."
"Have you got the file?"
"Here." Handing over a bulky folder, Huntress let out a little huff of frustration. "Now can we jump into a random motel?"
"I think the police will be shadowing the random motels for a while. We'll be better off spending the night in the car." Question completely missed the devious look that spread across his girlfriend's face. "Here we are," he commented, picking out a sheaf of papers. "Hmmm.... Not promising... Rockets used to blow open truck, guards killed with bullets... not exactly ninja tactics. Thugs found dead at scene—a gang war of some kind? No, too great a coincidence for two mobs to attack truck at same point. A betrayal then? But how..." Question's faceless brow wrinkled in sudden concentration. "Hullo..."
"What?" Huntress knew that look. She had a rising suspicion they might not even be spending the night in the car.
Question confirmed her suspicion by throwing the car into drive and pulling out into road. Tossing the folder at her, he commented. "All incapacitated thugs found with either burn marks or..." he paused significantly, "...sword wounds."
"I take it that's our fugitive then," sighed Huntress. "Fine. So where are we off to now?"
"To the nearest likely shelter. Highway I-89 is the shortest route between Jump City and one other major city."
---------------------------------
Once more. Sasuke replayed the image in his head, watching the terrified thug as he hoisted the gun, lined it up, fired it. Carefully he repeated the action, hoisting the gun, trying to line it with the target as he had seen the man do, and squeezed the trigger.
By this point he had gotten used to the kickback of the weapon. He'd also somewhat adjusted to the tendency of the weapon to fire in bursts. He'd yet to fully master the art of aiming the projectiles, but as he watched the can on the far side of the warehouse dance about, he felt he was getting close enough. However, perhaps he ought to do it once more. Again he hoisted, lined up the sight, and clicked the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Sasuke frowned. He glanced down the barrel of the gun and clicked the trigger again. Nothing.
A quick replay through the fight in his head showed him the problem. As he watched, a number of the guns being used suddenly stopped firing, and the thugs swiftly clicked new capsules into place. Frowning, he tried to remove the capsule as he saw them do.
A swift inspection confirmed his theory. So. The weapon was out of ammo. Rather inconvenient, but not debilitating. He would find another tomorrow, he'd already noticed a great many people in the area carrying similar devices. Hopefully the protocols were not very different, as he simply did not have the time to invest in a whole new training experience.
Sasuke's jutsu training was coming along nicely, but far too slow. He still had no conception of how a Sharingan could be used to teleport things. He felt it might have something to do with the Susanoo ability, but that technique was far too exhausting to try repeatedly. Besides, Kakashi had only one eye, he would not have been able to perform the Susanoo.
No matter. He felt fairly secure in his hideaway now. Tomorrow he would go and fetch more food, along with a new weapon, but he had no fears of being discovered. This 'Gotham City' appeared to be a place that swallowed secrets.
----------------
Author's Note: Just a further note that I have a book coming out next week. First couple chapters are up on Wattpad, (https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/238655038-the-nephilim-protocol-preview) if anyone's interested, but here's a taste:
"Who even are these guys?" Fat Kid mutters, as we file after him. If the aide can hear, he doesn't indicate it.
"How can you not know that?" Olive-Skin looks at him. "Blue camo? That makes them Peacekeepers. United Nations."
They walk us to a sort of conference room—rows of plastic chairs in front of a projector screen, faded carpet, fluorescent lights. And there, at the front of the room, looking over a notepad, is the lady from before. Wolfe. She looks at us and jerks her head at the chairs. "Sit. Let's get this over with."
"Get what over with?" asks Fat Kid.
"Orientation. Now sit," she says, pointing at the chairs.
There's not really a lot of options. We sit.
"This," Wolfe says, stepping forward, "is Camp Solanas. I suppose I should say 'Welcome,' but as you've guessed, 'welcoming' is not exactly the point, here." She folds her arms across her chest. "This is a training camp, operated by the Department for the Education of Miscellaneous Persons."
"We're 'Miscellaneous Persons?'" I ask.
"You're not persons at all," she says, looking at me. "You're Nephilim."