With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

17th February 2013
17:49 GMT

A claw goes through my chirurgical construct, shattering it and causing the spear to drop.

Construct mace.

He flap/dives, grabbing the spear and bring it to bear on me just as my mace comes around and shatters the head, knocking the haft down.

"Are you a man?"

He tries to vanish from sight, but with a heart pumping orange light in his chest I can still see him.

"Or a-" I sidestep his charge, mace knocking the closest claw away from my face as I let him continue past me. "-beast? Because if the answer-"

He bends slightly, and I think he's… Yes, he's shaking, and I can see the orange colour percolate through his body more thoroughly. And…

"-is 'no', things are going to get unpleasant."

Orange filaments flash out, drawing runes for concealment and mana-eating on the rocks around us for me to tie into my soul. Okay, if that doesn't-

"M-an."

-work, then…

"Say again?"

"Man." He shimmers back into full visibility, looking me in the eyes. "I am a man, not a beast. Who are you?"

"Orange Lantern. And there are a great many things I need to ask you, but let's stick to the most urgent for now. What do you know about the broadcaster?"

I point, because I'm fairly sure that the Aztecs didn't have a word for 'broadcaster'. He follows the direction with a quick flick of his eyes.

"I am not a BEAST!"

He lunges for his scabbard, grabs a new spear and hurls it in a single smooth motion. The spear flies true, striking the main armoured shaft of the broadcaster and failing to penetrate.

"Is that what it's telling you?"

"Yes! That I am a toy, a tool for the evil god that made it! That I have no other function!"

"What is your name, man?"

"My-." He winces, then raises his right claw to his mouth-. He's bitten his lips, then cut them with his claw as he tries to feel it. "My name is Qualpopoca."

"There's a heart beating inside it-."

"Of course there is."

"Is it yours?"

"No. They took my heart as an offering to Tlazolteotl."

"Then who does it belong to?"

"An old man. Thin, with pale skin like yours. I thought that they were honouring him; he was smiling as they opened his chest. None of us had such courage." He shakes his head. "But instead they just took his body like the rest, while they made me… This."

Someone overwhelmed by the Anti-Life? A city master, perhaps? Not like I can show him a picture of every old man in the world and ask which it was. But if he's still alive, I should try and take the heart with me.

"Why did they leave you here?"

"To slay anyone who interfered with it. I am glad that you stopped me, but if your magic only shields my mind for a little while… I don't have the courage to reincarnate, but I would rather cease existing than continue as an attack-beast."

"Alright, but I'm trying to make it permanent. I'm not destroying you completely unless I know your mind can't be brought back. The results could help your entire afterlife."

But given that I appear to have cut him off from the control system which uses his original heart…

I generate a construct crumbler ram, inscribe it with runes of energy absorption and nullification and hunger and connect it to my tattoos.

And then I slam it into the broadcaster, just under where I can hear the heartbeat. I'm used to these things being supernaturally tough, fortified by the souls all of the Anti-Life sufferers within the city and by Mannheim himself.

This time it goes right through.

I'm so surprised that for a moment I hesitate, then I dive forward and tear into the failed structure, ripping through the material containing the heart and pulling it free and ugh.

Mannheim Is.

Yeah, I can feel that. Whoever this was, they were Anti-Lifed hard. But at least it's not broadcasting any more. Let's.. see. I can't reach the suppression chain I have stored in subspace, but I could create something similar using my tattoos to drain the energy. The runic system isn't really designed for this, but it's the best I can do on short notice and without a magic user on hand. I forge a chain, inscribe the runes and forge a connection before clamping it around the heart. That makes it quieten down, but I can just about still hear it.

"Feeling any better?"

"It is no longer screaming in my mind, but that does not mean that I don't hear its echoes in my soul. I know that I am less than a man, and was even before they treated my form as a-" He looks at his right hand. "-rag-quilt."

"What makes you say that?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Aztec afterlife."

"Aztec. That is what the Spanish called us. We are the Mexica. And this is just one part of the afterlife." He looks around. "Mictlampa. A place of respite for defeated warriors. It's supposed to be a temporary reprieve before we resume our journey to rebirth."

"And you didn't do that?"

"By the time that was an option our empire had already been destroyed. I could not face being reborn as a servant to the people that defeated us. Forgetting our ways, and forgetting our gods."

Forgetting the gods that commanded you to ritually murder people. But I'll be nice.

"Empires rise and fall. Your people weren't always empire-rulers. My people used to rule the largest empire the Earth has ever seen, and all we have now is a few islands."

"Were you the one that made it fall?"

"Ah, no." I frown. "That happened in my grandparents' and great grandparents' generations. And I doubt that you could have been responsible for the Spanish."

"No. But it was my attack on one of their outposts that caused the war which saw our defeat."

I shake my head. "I think that was the way they were going anyway. Ritually killing people for a god was considered to be a very bad thing in Europe, and the last people who did it were destroyed for it. You might have triggered the war, but it was already inevitable."

His posture suggests that he's not convinced.

"But if you want to quiet the voice in your head telling you that is true, why not help me stop what is happening to what's left of your people." I break open the house I bricked up to contain the heartless woman and pull her still-recumbent body out. "If I understand your thought-."

"Yes. I will."

"Glad to hear it. Superboy, the broadcaster is destroyed. Come on down."

 

17th February 2013
18:00 GMT

It's easier, here. I spotted that the first time Granddad brought me here, but it's getting more and more obvious. Miss Martian wasn't too happy about talking to the fire fomorians but we need to know exactly who's gone missing or we're just fumbling around in the dark, aren't we?

Wasn't expecting them to try setting me on fire right away, but it's elemental stuff. Don't use it all that much as a superhero because setting people on fire causes serious injuries and because the fire service usually get to fires quicker than I can. But right now three fomorians are trying to burn me to death and it's not working at all.

Actually…

Yeah, there we go. And now I can store up that fire for later.

I look through the fire towards Miss Martian, to try and-. Okay, I'm going to need to get her some flowers or something. I should have warned her-.

"Why won't you burn!"

I look up at the flaming giant with my face just like Granddad showed me for dealing with idiots. "'cause I'm a wizard. I don't fear your fire. I'm here because I want to help." I give them a moment, because I want them to have that in their heads for the next bit. "Did someone disappear? You're not the only ones."

It's a bit hard to tell when they're in walking bonfire mode, but I think they're all looking at the one who was talking for a decision. He ignores them and keeps looking at me. And I keep staring back at him. Am I too young for this to work? Does he think I'm an apprentice someone sent because they couldn't be bothered to come themselves?

Well then he can put up with it, can't he?

He takes a step back, then starts becoming less bonfire and more person. And he's old. His hair and beard are mostly white with just a little bit of red, and his beard covers most of his cheeks so there isn't much of his weathered skin visible. His eyes turn back last, and I can still see just a little bit of fire in the middle of his pupils.

"You're a Cornwall."

"I'm the current living Cornwall. And this…" Miss Martian isn't getting any closer, but she is out from behind that rock now. "This is Miss Martian."

"Hello!"

"Who else has been taken?"

"Just about every fomorian clan has lost someone. And that's just the ones where they live together. I don't know where all the hermits live so I can't check up on them. Who did you lose, and when did they get taken?"

"Brian. He's a child, he doesn't know enough to defend himself yet. He's been gone less than a day. We're searching for him ourselves."

That explains why they went for me. I'm the odd thing out. Interrogating me would have been more intelligent, but they just had a little boy kidnapped. So, be a hero and try reassuring them. "As far as we know, they're taking everyone alive. Where did you last see him?"

The old fomorian looks over to… A woman. Looks like she's been crying, and hasn't been sleeping. Maybe his mother?

"He was near by. I was tending the charcoal oven just over there." She points. "I turned my back turned for just a moment, and then he was gone and I couldn't find him!"

The old man nods. "She started shouting and we came running. I guess that's what you heard as well."

Actually it was Miss Martian hearing their panicking minds, but close enough. I just nod.

"Miss Martian, can you hear anything?"

She flies closer and her eyes start shining white. They go back to normal as she shakes her head. "No. I can't hear Brian or anyone who could have taken him."

Fuck! I hate missing person cases when it's kids! Alright, think. If she can't hear him then he could be dead-. But with his family searching they'd have found the body by now. Or he's gotten out of range super fast.

"Are you his mother?" The woman nods. "Alright. I need one of your hairs."

The old man scowls. "Wizard-."

I take a small knife off my belt, prick my right thumb so some blood ends up on the blade, and then I offer it to him. "Give it back when we're done, yeah?"

He blinks in surprise, then takes it and nods to the woman, who pulls a hair out of her head and hands it to me. I wrap it around my right forefinger and.. reach out for attachments. A hair's not the strongest link, but it's not bad and he's probably got a couple of her hairs on him-.

Yeah, got it.

I start running, feeling where his feet went. He was… Just running around, playing in the woods without going far enough away from the group to get worried. There are dangerous animals in Otherworld, but most of them know not to pick fights with fomorians.

**Robert?**

Right, I'm in a daze when I do this. Mind probably feels weird to her.

**I'm fine, M'gann.**

More trees, more nearly bare earth. I wouldn't say I'm going deeper but I'm definitely going away. Doing this spell tells me where he went, gives me impressions of what he was thinking but it doesn't tell me-

I stop where the trail ends.

-why.

A small clearing. Some plants on the ground, taking in light for as long as they can until the trees around it grow over the top or one germinates in the middle-. The trail ends. It doesn't go into the air. That leaves teleportation.

"You haven't-"

I can't feel a teleportation spell, so that leaves-.

"-found-."

I bring my arms together in front of me and then push them out to the sides, the earth in front of me splitting open in sympathy.

Yeah. They covered it over but they didn't actually collapse the hole in the earth completely.

"Magic gate. Not like the gnomes or elves use." I clench my right fist so the earthen slope reforms into steps and start walking down, M'gann floating down after me. "Don’t know where it goes, but I can feel the trail right up to-."

To the blood on the little altar next to it.

"To the gate."

A stone archway, and the carvings look… Aztec? I don't really know South American history. I don’t want to get confused between different groups. I glance back at the old man, who has led the family in following us down.

"Can I have that knife back?"

He silently nods and holds it out to me.

"Thanks."

I tap the bloody tip against the altar, trying to see-.

The blood vanishes, and the gate opens. Simple enough. Not all that secure, mind, but maybe it's guarded at the other end. Soon see-.

"We're coming."

"No." I shake my head. "We-."

"He's our blood."

"Miss Martian and me can hide in plain sight. Can you?" He doesn't immediately respond. "And I know that Brian went through there. I don't know that the person who took him did, or that they didn't come back. They could still be around here, so I need you to keep this end safe. If we need you, we can-" I burn up the hair around my finger before sheathing the knife. "-come back and get you. Okay?"

He keeps looking at me, then grudgingly nods.

"Thank you. Miss Martian?" She nods, floating just in front of the gate, and then goes invisible. I pull shadows and air around me as I do the same. "Go."

I run through the port-.

SHITSHITSHIT!

 

17th February 2013
18:00 GMT

"Okay. Turn left."

I can feel Match twist slightly, and then the oversized robot toy thing we're hiding inside turns too. Spoofing its transponder so that their control system didn't pick up on it wasn't easy, defeating it without completely wrecking it and then hollowing it out so we could hide inside it and still get the messages from its control centre was even harder. There's no way that it would pass a detailed inspection, and I really wouldn't want Match to fight wearing it while I was still inside.

But we're inside the castle now. Whatever it's actually called.

Batman doesn't have great records on this place, or whatever these robot drones are called. Back in the sixties there was a British man who fought crime using remote controlled robot… Toys. His name was either Eric Dolmann or Jonas Luthor -no relation- and he didn't ever use a code name that couldn't also be an actual name. He used Jonas when he ran the electronics repair shop he used as a cover and 'Doll Man' for a guy who fights crime using robot dolls sounds like it's not a real name, but there's not enough info in the database to know for sure. He hasn't been seen for over a decade anyway, but these look like they use an updated version of the same concept: giant science fiction combat robots.

My arm computer lights up as the central computer sends another query message to what it thinks is just another simple drone in its system. My computer's emulator sends the only response that could explain why we're where we are: serious damage detected, returning to workshop.

If I was the one programming the system, damage like that would make a robot shut down and then make a separate robot fly over, pick the damaged robot up and then fly it to be repaired. Maybe with the castle covered in wards that sort of system can't be made to work, or there are only so many doorways and they don't want to remodel.

"Okay, two robots ahead."

"Right."

The system has the approaching robots send the I.F.F. signal, which the robots on guard mode check with their own internal records. Good job I spotted that before trying this, or we'd never have gotten past the guards at the front gate.

"Hey, where do you think all the people are?"

"I don't know yet." The system that controlled this robot doll wasn't designed to ask questions like that. The drones aren't supposed to be all that mentally sophisticated; anything like that just gets referred to the central computer. That's gotta be some kind of A.I. but I don't know if it's actually got a personality. "If they were just using this as an operating base… I mean, we didn't used to have a lot of people in the Mountain.."

"I guess."

There's a short signal from the left guard robot, pulses decreasing in duration-.

"Okay, stop in two… One… Stop."

Match stops, and the left robot turns his 'face' towards us to do a full scan. It doesn't transmit it to us, because there's no point. What would a simple robot do with that information other than decide whether to return or not? But my computer picks up the message it sends back to the main computer.

I don't want to try hacking it without as much information as I can get, because government centres like this can use custom operating systems and sometimes even custom programming languages. And I don't know how smart the A.I. is or what kinds of things get its attention.

And I really don’t want to get Mannheim's attention again.

I don't-.

Breathe in, breathe out. Remember what you're here for, and that this is gunna be over. I don't exactly think that I'm going to be laughing about this in a few years, but I know for sure that Mannheim isn't either.

"…bin?"

Huh. Ah, okay, the robot-. I missed the first dismissal transmission, but it looks like it accepted that as being a result of the damage. The second transmission was at a higher power level. Send the acknowledgement.

And the doors open.

"Okay, start walking again."

The doors look wooden, but Paul's magic-detecting amulet has been glowing constantly since we got here so it could be anything. The door mechanism-. It's like a giant hug-me toy attached to the ceiling upside down, with its arms threaded through a wheel mechanism just above the doors. If it was a person it would basically be having its arm bones pulverised whenever it opened or closed the doors, which fits the Anti-Life but doesn't match the records for Luthor/Dolmann. He used to pretend that his automatons were real people.

Now I think about it, that reminds me of the Ventriloquist.

"Hey there, Mister Centurior."

There's a woman over at a work bench. She's slumped and wearing messy overalls and has the look of someone who's been too badly Anti-Lifed to really take care of themselves properly. Her hands are constantly moving over a control panel, and there's a bank of.. dozens of monitors on the wall in front of her. I spot the feed from the two outside, and… That one is our feed.

There isn't an A.I.. She's handling it all.

"You've been in a fight."

She's not watching us, she's watching the screen-. The top down view of the workshop screen. The door-opening robot has cameras mounted in its eyes.

"I wonder who with? No, wait. I don't wonder things any more."

She presses a series of buttons, and we get another move command.

"Into the machine you go."

A corner of the room lights up, and there's a-. Boxy mechanical face with chomping teeth. It has large mechanical arms, a nose and eyes and for some reason it's painted a bright cheerful green color. The teeth open up to show a conveyor belt inside and the faint glow of a furnace further in.

I take a EMP batarang out of my utility belt, hold it in front of Match's face until he checks what it is and nods in acknowledgement, then hit the activator and drop it down the right leg. A few seconds pass, and then there's a fizz and a bright flash. A couple of seconds more and Match makes a show of trying to move that leg and not being able to while I prepare the knock-out gas.

"This is why they all left me behind, isn't it? I can't make anything work right. Armstrong, throw it in."

For a moment nothing moves. Then there's a squeaking noise from the ceiling as the door opening robot pulls its arms free from the wheel mechanism-

"Break out on three. I'll knock her out, you get the creepy long-armed robot."

-and then grabs onto rungs underneath it to kinda pull itself down. Looks like it's attached to the ceiling somehow, like an upside down jack-in-the-box.

"Right."

"One."

A second pair of arms drop down from its shoulders and grab the next set of rungs.

"Two."

A third set of arms drop down from its back and grab the rungs on the floor and that is a seriously creepy robot face. And I can see that the woman is the one controlling it. Does she just talk to it because she's crazy?

Guess we'll find out in a moment.

"Three."