Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

THE WATCHTOWER

Alaura followed Danny back to where the armless Batman puppet lay. “What are you doing?” she asked as Danny crouched down at it.

“The Batarangs looked pretty real. I’m checking what else they managed to get,” Danny explained, undoing the belt from the puppet’s waist. Bruce knew it wasn’t impossible, unfortunately, to find stray batarangs lying around Gotham. And there were enough clips and public footage of Batman for a dedicated person to figure out the contents of what’s in his utility belt. Bruce’s gut clenched with the reminder that it was his weapon that drew a trail of blood on his son’s face.

“Oh, handy.” Alaura nodded, squatting next to Danny to see what he might find. Along with a stock of Batarangs, there was a grapple gun. Danny tested it to see if it was reliable, but the wire caught in the mechanism before it managed to hit the wall. Danny set it down with a disappointed grumble. There was first aid equipment that Bruce was glad Danny and Alaura could have.

“Shark repellent?" Alaura read one of the canisters.

“Do you think it’ll work on space sharks?” Danny asked. Bruce was sure it would, though he advised against using it on shark-like aliens. Danny pulled out a pack of four nut-free granola bars, the same ones Bruce usually carried. It made Bruce uncomfortable how much this Puppet Master knew about him; he’d have to figure out a countermeasure.

Danny unwrapped a bar to eat and put the rest back when Alaura didn’t want any. “Oh, it’s expired,” he said with a mouthful, frowning at the difficult-to-chew and bad-tasting snack. He still ate the whole thing. 

After looking through each pocket, Danny took his own jacket off to wear the belt like a sash under it since it was too large for his waist. He re-wore the jacket before pulling Green Arrow’s quiver over it for easy access and took Wonder Woman’s lasso. "Ooh," Alaura cooed at it, taking one end to wrap loosely around her arm. “Ask me something.”

Danny looked at her, unimpressed. “What’s your name?” he obliged.

“Alaura,” she said easily before realizing, “Wait, I was supposed to lie,” the girl scolded herself. “Okay, ask me something else.”

Danny sighed, “It’s a normal rope.”

“What if it’s actually the lasso of truth?”

“If it is, we should be very concerned.”

“Why?”

“Because someone would have to steal something literally attached to Wonder Woman’s hip.”

“Oh, right.” Alaura let the rope drop from her hand, disappointed. The difference between Alaura's and Danny’s behavior could serve as a litmus test for who was a real civilian and who somehow seemed to know something about everything. 

After she’d accepted the fact, Danny added, “It’s frayed at the edges.” The Lasso of Truth is known to be indestructible.

Alaura made a sound of understanding, watching him stand. “Aren’t you gonna bandage your cheek?” she asked, pointing out the line of red.

“It already stopped bleeding.” Danny shrugged. We might need it later for something more serious,” he explained logically. Bruce hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but his words had merit.

Alaura hummed conspiratorially, a mischievous smile spreading on her face. “Sure, yeah," she agreed, sarcastically. “It’s totally not because you think it looks cool.”

“What, no,” Danny denied, much to the amusement of many watching him.

“Mmhm.” Alaura nodded, self-satisfied. “But we did just fight the Justice League, so we deserve to look cool.”

“That wasn’t the real Justice League,” Danny countered.

"It's basically them. The original seven," Alaura declared with fanfare. Danny didn’t comment on that, waiting for her to realize her own discrepancy. “Wait, seven? Why were there only six of them?” she asked, turning around to look at the limp puppets before they left the room, and turned to Danny, expecting an answer.

Danny had noticed the missing member much earlier in the round and didn’t seem nearly as confused as Alaura. He had likely figured out why Green Lantern was missing already. Alaura, as a show of familiarity with Danny’s behavior, doesn’t need to be expressly told that he’s waiting for her to figure out why.

“Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash." She took count on her fingers for those of them that had puppets: "Martian Manhunter, the archer guy..." she trailed off after easily offending Oliver. Her face scrunched together as she tried to remember who the seventh member was.

“Are we serious right now?” Hal grumbled at the stretch of silence.

“Green Lantern," Danny finally offered her when it was clear she didn’t remember.

“Right,” she exclaimed, “I was just about to say that,” she tried to convince, sheepishly. “Green Lantern was missing,” she concluded. “That’s pretty weird though; why would they skip over a whole member when there are famously seven of them?"

“What makes a Green Lantern different from all the other Justice League members?” Danny asked her to direct her train of thought.

Hal slammed his hand on the table and made a buzzer sound. “What is he the best?" He declared like he was on a game show.

“I knew you were about to do something stupid.” Oliver rolled his eyes. Bruce ignored them in favor of gauging what Danny knew about the situation.

Alaura considered, “He’s the only human with powers,” she tested for Danny’s approval.

He shook his head. “Flash is human.”

“Can’t you just tell me?” Alaura grumbled as they began their path into the next round of the tournament.

“This might be a part of the reason the watch sent you here. You have to be able to figure out what’s going on," Danny said, not budging. Another thing Bruce needed to find out more about was the time-traveling watch that was apparently Danny’s. He had implied having time-traveled himself, though he notably dislikes wearing watches. Additionally, he wasn't particularly shocked or disbelieving of Alaura when she declared to be his future daughter. Was he the only one with this sort of device? If it was a sign for him to trust Alaura’s claim of parentage, how did he come to acquire such a thing?

“What is different about GL?” Barry asked when Danny wasn’t offering an answer.

“He primarily works in space, unlike the rest of us," Bruce said. “Out of all seven of us, a Lantern is who the aliens would have most easily recognized." He’d realized that the hero couldn’t have been left out as simple negligence early on. 

Clark, who’d stayed pretty quiet for most of the tournament, spoke up too. “Most planets aren’t familiar with the Justice League as a whole. Some of them might be able to recognize those of us who go out to other planets for missions, but we’re largely an Earth-centric organization.”

“The organizer plans to warp our reputation,” Diana deduced, “but why might someone want that if we don’t interact with those other planets much anyway?”

“Shouldn’t it be beneficial to keep us in the dark as long as possible?” J’onn considered, “Why choose not one but two Earthlings for a broadcasted event?”

“If Alaura really is from the future, which I think we all believe," Oliver looked around to see if there was any objection. When none came, he continued, “It’s pretty coincidental timing that she came back exactly when Danny got mysteriously selected for the tournament. But that doesn’t explain how she ended up there.” Bruce suspected this was something else to do with the watch. 

“Danny did say something about the ghosts sending her,” Barry pointed out, “Or, y’know, something similar enough. Maybe they thought it was necessary to have two Earthlings there.”

“The ghost society asked for our help just recently. Perhaps this is a method of showing gratitude?” Diana considered, “By informing us this was occurring.”

“But why would an intergalactic organization need the Justice League's reputation?” Clark asked, circling back. They had no idea who had organized the tournament or if it was somehow a ploy to attack Earth at some point. Why was Danny specifically selected, and why was Alaura, untrained as she clearly was, sent?

Alaura walked in thoughtful silence behind Danny, her face twisting and contorting as she tried to pull any relevant information forward. Finally, she heaved a defeated sigh, and her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know anything about Green Lantern," she complained. “He’s a space hero, and there's the ring thing. There can be more than one Green Lantern, but there's more than one of almost all the others, too.”

There were multiple Green Lanterns: Hal Jordan, who shared his responsibilities as a founder with John Stewart. And Guy Gardner. There may be more in the future. As for Flash, Wally West already shared the moniker with Barry. Cassie Sandsmark would only be Wonder-girl for so long. Jon and Konner were bound to take up Clark’s title, and Bruce would rather not think too hard about the future of Batman if there was one. 

“You were pretty close. There are a lot of Green Lanterns, and they do mostly work in space,” Danny validated her efforts before telling her what he’d wanted her to conclude. “Green Lantern is the only one of the original members who works for an organization that wasn’t self-founded.”

“Oa would be up their asses if they used the Lantern symbol without permission,” Hal realized just before Danny got the chance to explain the fact to Alaura.

“All the Lantern rings belong to an organization called Oa, and when the ring picks its bearer, they fall under Oa’s management. Lanterns make sure things run smoothly in galactic sectors, and Oa makes sure the Lanterns are staying up to code. They can be a real pain in the ass about it, but they do have the respect of most of the galaxy."

“Not to be repetitive, but how does he know that?” Barry asked. Oa is not common knowledge to even the extended Justice League members.

“So they would’ve sued if the tournament used Green Lantern's logo?” Alaura summarized.

“Basically.” Danny nodded, coming to a stop in their path to focus on the conversation. “What does that tell you?”

The girl made a face at the follow-up question, but she tried to think of the answer. “That… the tournament people can’t afford to take Oa to space court?” Danny gave her a half-nod-shrug as a signal that she was close but not fully there. The Justice League present, watching him, tried to think of what Danny had already figured out. Bruce, in a habit he’d taught himself about Robins’ deductive reasoning, kept his ideas to himself so Alaura could come to the conclusion herself.

Absentmindedly, Alaura fiddled with the loose strands of hair on her face. Bruce realized it must be a translation of Danny’s tendency to mess with his own hair. “They couldn’t get a copyright license,” she said, following the business-themed analogy. “But they probably didn’t get the rest of the Justice League’s permission either,” she continued thinking aloud while Danny waited for her to get to the answer on her own. “So why wasn’t that something they were worried about?” Bruce found himself nodding at her self-questioning through the screen. “Green Lanterns are assigned throughout the whole galaxy, so everyone knows who they are. The only other original member that spends a lot of time in space is Superman, but that’s a family crest, so it doesn’t have intergalactic copyright. I think.” She looked up at Danny for confirmation of that fact.

“You’re right,” he prompted her patiently.

“The aliens don’t really know the rest of the members… or who the JL is,” Alaura realized, “Why would they use them as their theme then?” Instinctively, she turned to Danny for the answer.

This time, he did offer it to her, satisfied with the work she’d put in. “The person behind this wants to control how the champion of the tournament will perceive the Justice League. None of the descriptors matched what the members stand for,” he pointed out. “If the rounds of the tournament are designed after each member, and the contestants have a very limited idea of them, they will assume the symbols to have significant value. Then, if they see someone defeat the symbols, it establishes their power in the minds of everyone who's watching the broadcasts anywhere in the galaxy.”

It took her a second before she gasped with realization. “Someone wants to kill the Justice League." It wouldn’t be the first time they’d been targeted. “Someone wants to take over the galaxy!” She overtook her own surprise. “Who would do that?”

Having established as much as he wanted to about their situation, Danny began walking again. “I have someone in mind,” he said dully to himself.

“Wait, wouldn’t it make more sense if they didn’t get someone from Earth then? So the JL wouldn’t have time to prepare.”

“It would," Danny nodded, implication in his tone as they neared the next arena.

Aluara's excitement at the prospect grew. “So, neither of us was supposed to be here. We’re like totally undercover. We’re spying on the enemy.” She grabbed Danny’s arm again in her excitement, holding it with an absentminded casualness. This time, Danny succumbed to his fate. “Y’know, I’m glad you got to be here with me for my first-ever solo mission,” the girl said genuinely, swinging their conjoined arms jovially. “Who did you do your first one with?” she asked curiously.

“No one.” Danny shrugged easily.

“What? Why?” Alaura asked, “What about Grampa Bruce? Or Uncle Dick or Uncle Jason? They’re older enough to have taken you, right?”

Danny kept his face blank at that, and Bruce was careful to do the same. Clark sent a well-meaning glance at him, and Oliver pretended like he didn't see it from his side of the table.

“Don’t talk about the things you know from the future,” Danny warned her instead of explaining, stopping at a door inscribed with the House of El crest. Danny didn’t open it immediately.

Alaura rolled her eyes at the warning, “Sure, about other things. But I already know you know them.”

“If you know something, that just means you don’t know enough.”

“You always say that,” she grumbled to herself. 

Danny opened the door cautiously. First, only enough so he could peer inside to gauge what might be coming up. Alaura’s attempt to get a look too was foiled by her sudden loss of balance. She steadied herself with a hand on the tunnel’s wall. Danny decided the room seemed safe enough and opened the door all the way, as Alaura seemed to grow slightly pale. Turning behind him to gesture for Alaura to follow him inside, Danny noticed her pinching her face. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Alaura pushed herself to stand. “I just got a weird headache for some reason.” If Bruce’s suspicion about her parentage is right, there's Kryptonite in the room.

“I have expired granola bars and ibuprofen that's probably also expired.” Danny offered.

“It’s fine.” Alaura steeled herself and walked into the room. A much milder reaction than Bruce would expect from Kryptonite exposure, even from a half-Kryptonian like Jon or Konner. 

Danny doesn’t seem to have made the connection yet. Already knowing Alaura was his daughter might make it hard for him to realize the personal implications. Or, as he had mentioned earlier, Alaura might be from a parallel reality, and her parentage will not imply this Danny’s future. Taking her on her word, Danny walked them further into the room.

The room was empty with no visible exits or entrances except the one they had come in from. When they let go of the door, it shut with an echoing thud in the dome-shaped room. The two turned to it, alarmed. Alaura reached towards Danny’s arm again. The overhead light beamed blindingly. By design, it was clearly made to imitate the yellow sun that was known to power Kryptonians. It made it difficult to make out the other details of the room. 

“The door shut us in," Alaura announced without her earlier confidence.

“There’s probably some kind of puzzle to open the next door,” Danny considered.

“Okay, yeah,” Alaura tried to reassure herself, staying close to Danny and still holding his arm as she looked around at the barren room. “Find the clues,” she instructed herself. On one wall, as was inscribed on the door, was Superman’s symbol. Under it: 'STRENGTH.'

The Superman crest, unlike any of the other symbols, is encrusted with colorful gem-like stones. The ‘S’ itself is made out of a bright red crystal, and the exterior diamond shape is lined with a carefully constructed sapphire blue stone. Laced between the ‘S’ and the diamond-shaped outline was the too-familiar green of Kryptonite. And less than four meters from it, Alaura gripped Danny’s arm with badly maintained fear. 

Bruce knows if it were Clark, he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own two feet that close, and the same would go for any of the superpowered Kents. Alaura, in contrast, had relatively mild reactions. If the light was managing to mimic a yellow sun, the severity of it might be counteracting the Kryptonite, Bruce theorized. On the flip side, close proximity to such a strong heat source would not do Danny any good.

Danny was so focused on something he saw in the wall that he didn't notice Alaura’s variety of fear. “We need to get out of here,” Alaura said to him again, both wanting to get away from the rock but not wanting to let go of Danny’s arm. Clark’s tension from beside Bruce is almost palpable; he figured out she is Kryptonian too.

“We will," Danny said reassuringly. He reached out his free hand to inspect the wall and felt around and outside the area of the colorful stone. When he didn’t make progress as fast as he liked, he turned to take his arm from Alaura’s restricting hold and noticed she seemed, to him, unexplainably scared. “Hey, c’mon, we’ll be fine,” he told her encouragingly, gently taking his arm free.

Alaura, in every effort to believe him, nodded. She let go of his arm but held the back of his jacket with a vice grip, shifting the quiver slung across his torso. Danny didn’t comment on this and focused on solving the puzzle he saw the beginning trials of.

Eventually, a click sounded from behind Superman’s symbol. Danny pulled his hand away, turning to Alaura with a pleased expression. “See, it’s not—” The fake sun dimmed, and the room took on a red tinge from a second light source. Before either of them could make sense of it, the floor receded, and they were both falling into a pit. 

Alaura screamed with a terror that would have had any of the seven coming for her help if they could. Danny’s alarm was kept much more silent, and after the initial shock, he reached for the rope they’d taken from the puppet. He wrapped one end around his palm twice, held that section tightly, and let gravity unravel the rest of the rope. Only barely familiar with the logic of Batman’s belt, it cost Danny precious seconds to find a batarang.

Danny glanced at the ground hidden by the dim light as Alaura tried to get a better hold on the back of his unzipped jacket. Danny can’t help her without losing freedom of both hands; he needed to needle the rope through the center hole of the Batarang. Two failed attempts were all the patience he had for the plan, and he deposited the Batarang between his teeth while he instead pulled the quiver over his shoulder.

Fortunately, Alaura’s hold on his back isn’t blocking it, and even with her jostling him around, he was able to make an ice arrow with one end of the rope encased in the center of it. He did the best he could with his boundless angle to pull the quiver far enough that it might hit a wall.

The sound of metal being split for the arrow to find purchase isn’t enough to let Bruce’s heart beat normally. Danny gripped the rope in his hand and turned around to grab Alaura’s. When Danny's arm made a motion to hold the hand still gripping the back of his jacket, Alara let go of the jacket entirely for a dangerous attempt to grab him with both hands. She wouldn’t have managed to do it successfully if she weren't able to fly. But if she could fly, why hadn’t she caught herself and Danny?

Alaura’s fearful eyes looked up to meet Danny’s eternal calmness. The rope went taut with the weight, swinging with the inertia of their fall. “Okay,” Danny breathed to himself, glad that gravity wasn’t working against him.

“Don’t drop me.” Alaura cried, looking down.

“I won’t,” Danny said with a confidence that made it easy to believe him, even with his words muddled past the Batarang clenched in his teeth. “Can you fly?” he asked her.

“No,” Alaura said, her voice close to tears. Bruce knit his brows, sure he’d just seen her do it. “I mean—sometimes I can, but I’m not really good at it. And—and I have to really focus, and mom—I mean—uh—” Her words are fumbling nonsensically. Alaura was capable of flight. She just hadn’t managed to figure out how to do it.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Danny told her simply, trying to come up with a solution. Between holding the rope and Alaura, Danny can’t use either of his arms, and even attempting to do something with his mouth would require him to wager with losing a Batarang. Bruce could tell Danny was nearing overexertion of his powers. Not that he would have been able to gauge from Danny's deposition.

Alaura tried to focus on calming herself down. Her long, loose hair whipped in the swinging momentum of the rope while she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed out whimpering breaths. It made visible a symbol on her back that had been previously concealed by her hair. It was drawn in a reflective black material that made it almost indistinguishable if the light didn’t glisten off it, setting it apart from the matte material of the rest of Alaura’s suit. It’s not a symbol Bruce recognized, but one Danny regarded with surprise.

“That’s my suit,” he realized. Alaura made a very mumbled sound of affirmation at that, and Danny looked at his future creation with scrutiny. “Hey,” Danny called for her attention with a tone that told he was about to give her instructions. “Show me your arm.” The way she was holding Danny’s arm with both hands concealed any potential mechanisms on the forearms area of her suit.

“Uh—” She tried to follow the instruction, albeit incredibly reluctantly, to let go of Danny at all. The tension she had been trying to manage rose at the request. She barely held her arm out for a second before holding back onto Danny’s arm, barely opening an eye during the whole act.

“I’m not going to drop you,” Danny told her with full conviction in his own words. “Let me see your arm.”

She gulped and steeled herself to hold her arm out for Danny to see, despite clearly not wanting to. He peered at it through the dim lighting. “Try to extend your wrist down,” he asked in the same tone. With a breath, she opened her eyes and did as she was asked. “That was good, but try to do it faster. Like a snap.”

Alaura took a shaky breath, sniffling. She repeated the action faster, and a small click sounded from her wrist, but there was no follow-through from it. “See, you almost had it," Danny praised. “Try again.” His other hand readjusted its hold on the rope. It must be digging into this palm to support both of their weight.

Alaura did the action with more confidence a third time, and the suit clicked heartily and delivered a thin dagger into her hand. The motion of delivery was quick. Light caught on the silver blade that was held out from the suit’s wrist. Already frightened and not knowing what to expect, Alaura flinched back at it and exposed why she had tried so hard to keep her eyes closed.

The small moment of distractedness was all the bright red lasers needed to spill from her eyes. “Oh no,” Clark breathed from his chair, understanding better than anyone else what was about to happen.

"What—?" Danny said, genuinely shocked, dropping the Batarang from his mouth. The power of the lasers from Alaura’s eyes rocked the rope's delicate serenity. Alaura cried out, not knowing what to do, which only made the situation more unmanageable for Danny. The room was illuminated by a bright red light making its way to the far metal wall of the room. The lasers bounce off the wall and, while clearly weakened, are still strong enough to fry through the rope holding them up. 

Danny, thinking quickly, tried to grow an exoskeleton of ice around the rope from his hands to mend the gap between the side they were holding and the side embedded in the security of the wall. But it wasn’t fast enough. The unattached end of the rope led them into the darkness of the unending pit below them. This only scared Alaura more. 

“Close your eyes,” Danny told her urgently, as the laser continued bouncing off the wall above them. Alaura fought between closing her eyes and not knowing what was going on around her, or seeing red lasers splatter the room.  

“Alaura!” Danny yelped when a beam of red zipped too close to him. He pulled his voice to be calm and reassuring again. “Keep your eyes closed. I’ll handle this.” Bruce had to be impressed with his ability to manage his emotions when he had no easy way of getting out of this. He also knew that wasn’t something that came naturally to anyone, and he didn’t like the clear experience of harrowing situations that alluded to.

Following the instructions, Alaura spluttered words that didn’t make any sense to try to apologize for the situation. She reached up with her free hand to hold on to Danny’s arm again, not accounting for the dagger edge that was still extended from her wrist. Danny only winced and gritted his teeth when it cut into his forearm. Alaura wasn’t aware of what she’d done, and that would only be something that would frighten her more. 

Danny searched for a plan now with the rope cut. With Alaura holding onto his other arm, he wouldn’t be able to shoot an arrow at the wall for a second try at his original solution. The Justice League watched in bitter anticipation and worry. Then, without warning, both of them disappeared from the camera's view.

Stressed, “What happened now?”

The camera angle moved to find its subjects higher up than they’d been just moments earlier. “He teleported.” Bruce realized for the room. The distance Danny gained was quickly mitigated to their starting point with nothing to stop their falling. Bruce was sure Danny would go further up or, better, back into the hallway if he could. Lines of ice crept from under the collar of his shirt and began to creep over his jaw.

That must have been what Danny had been aiming for since he didn’t try to teleport them up a second time. Instead, Danny and Alaura stop falling. They’re suspended in midair, not beholden to anything. Danny’s jacket, which had been whipping behind him as he fell, was floating behind him like his and Alaura’s hair. 

“Wait, he could do that the whole time?” Hal balked. The streams of ice continued growing on the left half of Danny’s face, distracting from his hair flushing white at the exertion of teleporting and gravity manipulation. 

“We stopped falling,” Alaura noted, trying to feel out the ground with her feet. Her eyes were still screwed shut, and her grip on Danny’s arm hadn’t loosened.

"Yeah," Danny assured her, moving in zero gravity with familiarity.

“How’d… are we flying?” she asked when she couldn’t find a floor.

“Let’s focus on getting your powers under control, and you can see for yourself," he rerouted the conversation. Danny wouldn’t be able to suspend them for long, and they had no way out of the room.

“I—I can’t. I don’t know how to.”

“Yes, you do," Danny told her with resoluteness. “Take a breath. We’re fine,” he projected his words with certainty. The back of his jacket wasn't as weightless as it had been a few seconds earlier. The ice hadn’t stopped growing on his face. There are thin rivers of blood floating around his arm and knuckles instead of falling. “You’re okay," he told her.

Alaura took the breath he asked of her. “I’m okay,” she repeated without Danny’s conviction.

“I got you,” Danny reminded her, gently pulling the bladed hand off his arm.

“Why are your hands so cold?” Alaura asked, instinct telling her to look before she quickly remembered to keep her eyes closed. “And why does your heartbeat sound so weird?”

“What does it sound like?” He asked as a ploy to distract her.

“It’s like…” Alaura paused to think of a comparison. “There’s this one song Mar—I mean, my cou—uh… friend likes. Anyway, it’s from the future, so you wouldn’t know it yet.”

“That’s a first," Danny joked. Then, “Why don’t you try to open your eyes now?" He prompted, carefully letting go of the hand he’d pulled free.

Alaura clearly seemed hesitant to do so, but she had a lot of faith in Danny. Looking away from where his voice had come from, she peeked out of her left eye, testingly. When nothing happened, she opened both her eyes. “I did it," Alaura said, surprised with herself.

“Good job," Danny praised authentically.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Alaura asked, trying to peer up at anything that they could use in the room. When her gaze eventually started going lower in the room, she stopped herself and looked up again. She was scared of heights, Bruce realized; that’s why she had been so scared earlier. The yellow light from the artificial sun must have supercharged her, and her fear was inhibiting her ability to control her powers. It was morbidly amusing; a Kryptonian afraid of heights was like a frog afraid of water.

Danny moved closer to Alaura as his hair and jacket began to fall into the clutches of gravity. “Can you try to fly?” he asked as if he were just offering the idea. Alaura’s stated inability to fly was likely a psychological limitation more than a physical one.

“...I can’t,” she said, pressing her lips together. She hadn’t noticed that Danny was nearing the end of his strength. Alaura hadn’t looked at him since she’d opened her eyes, perhaps in fear of the lasers coming back or in a desperate effort to distract herself from the lack of close ground. “I’m afraid of heights,” she finally admitted it, embarrassed by the fact.

“But you can fly?”

“I can’t.”

“You said you could sometimes.”

“Only barely.”

Danny's breath came out frosty. “Alaura, you have to fly, or we’re going to fall," he explained.

“But you can fly, so it’s fine.” On cue, Danny’s gravity faltered. Alaura yelped just as it caught her again. “Why’d you do that?” she demanded.

“It’s not on purpose,” he defended.

Alaura actually looked at him now. “Why were your powers so weird in the past?” 

"You're implying," Danny warned, his jaw tight. “At least try to fly.” 

Trying her best to brave her fears, she closed her eyes again. “Nothing scary is happening right now,” she told herself. Bruce, despite seeing many Supers fly, doesn’t know what he should look for as the seeds of the ability. There was no ground here to see her lifting off from, and it would only be the test of Danny no longer being able to hold them up, where her success might show.

Alaura didn’t have time to name her attempt, if she'd made one. There’s a split-second warning of their hair falling, being blown against their fall. To Alaura’s credit, she was clearly trying to get them back in the air to no avail. There were short bursts where their fall would slow, but that was clearly Danny’s work, and he shuddered with the cold of his body.

In a moment mirroring the last moments of disaster in Shanghai, a line of red bounded the wall up to Alaura and Danny. Even without any distinctive feathers of the blur, Bruce knew it could only be Firebolt. He ran up the wall, closing in on the falling teenagers. Instead of grabbing them, he ran entirely past them. Then, before the sparks caused by his run-up could fade, he turned around to run back down.

The fluctuation of Firebolt’s energy and air pressure from his ascent and descent collided, causing an explosion of energy. Danny and Alaura are caught in the midst of the flying sparks and thrust of red-colored force that blasts out in the confined space.

The cameras couldn’t pick up anything for too long without static echoing through both speakers. “I fucking hate spectator sports," Barry grumbled, foot tapping rapidly with impatience.

“Don’t validate them by calling it a sport,” Oliver chided tersely.

“I knew they were bad news when I didn’t see any Lantern rep.”

"You're just not gonna let that go, are you?”

“Look at you. You just keep getting more competent by the second.”

When the screen finally readjusted, Danny and Alaura were lying on the floor. Alaura’s breathing hard, though clearly relieved to be on solid ground. Danny, in a manner Bruce knew wasn’t wholly uncommon, lay still and without any rise or fall of his chest. His hair was fully white, and the ice on his face looked like the tails of a large bolt of lightning. Beside Danny, Firebolt sat bored, watching the sparks that flew between his fingers with little interest. They’d been lying there for a while by the small pool of blood that had collected around Danny’s arm. 

Bruce will have to remember to buy Danny a replacement jacket once he’s back. Windbreakers are almost impossible to mend. He hopes Danny isn’t too attached to that one specifically. He does wear it all the time. Maybe Bruce should find someone to fix the windbreaker before buying a replacement. But if Danny’s okay with just a new one, then he’ll remember to keep a couple on hand. 

Alaura eventually stood up, taking in the ornate walls surrounding them. They’re painted with unique artworks and murals, starkly different from the monotonous gray metal of the rest of the ship. Bruce wondered how this might have something to do with Batman’s trial, the only one left. She turned to see Danny on the floor. “What happened to him?” She asked Firebolt.

“He died,” the creature responded casually. The meeting room stilled impossibly, and the blood rushed deafeningly in Bruce’s ear.

It took Alaura a moment to process the answer before another freak-out began. “What?” she screamed.

A sigh of exasperation. “Bolt, you can’t keep telling people that,” Danny complained from where he lay. Alaura and the heroes took a double-take at the source of the words.

“But it’s true,” the ghost countered, unbothered.

“What are you doing?” Alaura demanded through her shock.

“Resting,” Danny said, not moving from his spot, eyes still closed.

Astonished at the duo’s casualness about the topic, “In peace?” she asked scornfully.

“I would like to.”

“Why is your hair white? Why is there ice growing on your face? Why did your powers suddenly stop earlier? And why aren’t you breathing? Where are we right now? Do you think we failed the tournament? I can’t believe I couldn’t pass the Superman section.” She began rattling on, her words gaining speed at each question.

Danny shielded his eyes from the lights and the camera and let out another sigh as he sat and pulled his knees to his chest, visibly not dead. He turned his head to the side to look up at her, curiously. "You're afraid of heights even though you can fly?” he asked instead of answering her lot of questions.

“I was afraid of heights, and then I found out I could fly,” Alaura explained with clear insecurity over the topic. “And we just saw that I actually don’t know how to fly.”

“All the things that are scary about heights don’t really matter if you can fly,” Danny said simply, turning his attention to treating the large cut on his right forearm.

“I…” Alaura began in a small voice, looking away from Danny, who was busy searching Batman’s utility belt for the bandages. “I also am afraid of…uh…” She searched for the word she wanted to say. “Green.”

Danny paused after opening the wrong pocket, processing the words. "Green," he repeated incredulously. 

Alaura nodded in acceptance of her own words. “Yup.”

“The color?” Danny clarified. 

In the meeting room, “Why the fuck would someone be afraid of the color green?” Hal asked, confused. The other members who hadn’t realized Alaura’s full parentage seemed confused, too.

“Your weakness is yellow.” Clark retorted in his fellow Kryptonian’s defense.

“Don’t you go there.” Hal warned, “I’m not above—Oh. My god.”

“She’s Kryptonian.” The newfound context lay atop the room. 

“That does line up,” Diana nodded, least surprised. Of those present, Bruce and Clark were the ones predominantly involved with Kara’s arrival and integration on Earth. While the others knew she had arrived, they likely would not have kept themselves up-to-date with her file enough to easily be able to recall that her mother’s name was also Alaura. Bruce is sure Konner and Tim have shared the fact with their teammates in the Cave by now.

“Konner and Danny?” Oliver considered the idea aloud. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How would she be biologically Kryptonian?” Barry pointed out. Bruce sighed to himself as they worked through the information themselves. 

“The same way Konner is.”

"Then, how is she even a she?”

“I think you may be mistaken.” Bruce was glad Daina pointed it out before he had to.

“You think it’s Jon? That’s a little…”

“She means Supergirl, genius.”

“Oh! That makes sense.” It was times like these that Bruce found it difficult to believe they were the best Earth had to offer.

THE BATCAVE

“Green.” The disbelief in Daniel’s voice echoed through the Cave.

“Yup.”

“The color?”

Alaura only nodded, unable to explain herself without giving away invaluable information to Daniel’s ignorance. The children, though, thought it was absolutely hysterical and couldn't contain themselves. It only grew worse with each of Daniel’s questions on the matter. “Grass,” he stated simply. “Tree?”

“It’s like a specific kind of green,” Alaura tried, embarrassed. Danny stared at her in a long stretch of silence. A single eye twitched. 

“Oh, I know he’s fucking pissed,” Jason wheezed between laughs. Damian grumbled in secondhand embarrassment for his future niece. 

“Guys,” Kon-el tried in the girl’s defense, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “This is serious.”

Not commenting on the topic further and exercising commendable patience, Daniel turned to Firebolt. “Where are we?” he asked, looking around briefly as he took off his jacket, cautious of the wounds on his arm. The ornateness of the room struck Talia with a memory too foggy to recall, and it crawled over her skin in silent retribution.

“What happened to your arm?” Alaura asked, not realizing the effects of her own desperation when they fell. It seemed in the commotion, she had either lost the blade or it had retracted back into her suit. Daniel’s acquired quiver, rope, and Batarang had not been saved, and he only had an outdated variant of Bruce’s utility belt to his aid.

Daniel didn’t answer her. 

“I found my lead and have laid claim to it,” Forebolt said proudly as Daniel concluded his search for the bandages. Firebolt, at first appearance, notified Daniel and subsequently his viewers that he had run into Daniel while on a mission. Daniel, at the time, had not asked for elaboration. Talia wondered if it was because he was already privy to the nature of it or because he respected the anonymity of his friend’s assignment.

“Oh, really?” Daniel perked up at the revelation. So he was already well informed, it seemed. How curious.

“When I came to get you, I thought you might want to speak with Osiris yourself, so I brought us here,” Firebolt explained, iris-less red eyes watching Danny bandage himself easily. 

Osiris. The name pulled memories she wished to forget from the depths of her mind. In a time long past, before Talia could cure her affliction caused by her initial interaction with Bruce Wayne and his ward Richard Grayson, Ra’s al-Ghul had tasked her with finding an artifact that was held within the being’s keep. Talia may have even succeeded if it weren’t for the curse placed on her then, even if it is not something she longs for now.

Daniel hummed at the notion, consideringly. Arm bandaged, he placed his items back in their spot and secured the belt as a sash over his shoulder, pulling his jacket back on last. He zipped up the attire to his chest in an attempt to warm the ice that grew against his face. Slight as it may be, Talia saw that it had receded very slightly. His hair was still a blistering white and lay like a cloud atop his head.

“Who is Osiris?” Alaura asked, trying to understand the silent conversation she wasn’t a part of.

“A herder of death,” Daniel explained, and then added as an afterthought, “In Egyptian mythology, the god of the afterlife.”

The children made comments on why Daniel might have been brought there by Forebolt, concocting hypotheses amongst each other. “What’s wrong, Mother?” Damian asked quietly from beside her, coming to her side so he could keep his voice low from the Kryptonian.

Talia put a hand on her youngest son’s cheek, absently brushing it with her thumb as she tried to match the walls Daniel was surrounded by to the ones from her memory. “Do not worry,” she instructed them both. They were too far to do anything else.

“The herder of death,” Alaura echoed, taking her turn to be disbelieving. “Why do we want to talk to the herder of death?” she asked, adding a layer of dramatization to her words to highlight the absurdity of the moment.

Danny pushed off his knees and came to stand so they were at eye level. “You should be glad it’s not the Leprechaun.” The only recently quelled waves of laughter returned to the Cave.

Alaura’s face fell at the comment. “I think you're scaring her,” Firebolt whispered to Daniel.

“Don’t patronize me.” Alaura frowned, the tips of her ears burning red. “And it’s a really specific kind of green.”

“To answer your question, he has something of mine that I’d like back,” Danny offered more seriously, trying to find the way out of the magic maze that guarded Osiris’s keep.

Eyes wide, “Your soul?” Alaura asked genuinely. One of the children in Talia’s presence had questioned something similar.

Daniel turned to her with a face. “No,” his tone expressed how peculiar he thought that was.

“He just said you died, and now we’re here,” Alaura stressed, “It made sense.”

Danny ignored the matter and turned to Firebolt instead. “Ask Osiris if we can come inside,” he instructed. Firebolt nodded and dashed off, leaving a strip of red in his wake. Danny turned his attention to Alaura. “Don’t touch anything without permission when we get inside, even if it looks normal. Not everything is going to be safe for humans. Don’t wander off, and make sure you pay attention to your surroundings,” he instructed.

The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I’m not a little kid,” she argued, “You don’t need to tell me—” In the midst of her sentence, the two were brought into a room that put the previous one to shame. The transition was seamless, and it’s the change in background that hinted to the trial-goers that they were in a new space. "Whoa." 

This room, unlike the last, Talia recalled seeing. The depictions on the wall were the same as she remembered, and Daniel, unlike the other curious onlookers, seemed not to be very interested in the story depicted on them. It was only a moment when his eyes scanned over the story, and there was a small hint of a frown before he was careful to put it away. 

Alaura, in contrast, seemed to have a wide-eyed fascination with everything she saw. There was one in particular she was intrigued by, and not heeding to the warnings she’d just said she hadn’t required, she began to wander away from Daniel and Firebolt, who stood in the room with them mysteriously. “I know that sword,” Alaura pointed out, looking closer at the knight who kneeled to his king. “It’s like the one—” Realizing she shouldn’t speak of things from her time, she quickly pressed her lips to keep silent, looking behind to see if Daniel had noticed.

His attention was not on her to scold her for her slip-up. Just as it occurred before Firebolt’s arrival, a chill of unnatural frost is pulled from Daniel, prompting him to turn his attention to a specific doorway from the many in the room. Firebolt stood ready, flickering with unending motion and energy behind Daniel.

From the doorway emerged two soldiers dressed like the one Talia had encountered in the treasury when she had visited. Their heads and the majority of their necks were covered by golden ostrich masks. Their tunics were drapey and exposed the vertical pleats of gold armor covering their chests from below their arms. Bright, dark skin was exposed by their bare feet and hands that held a tall spear, mirroring their partner's. Loose fabric wrapped and draped along their legs. They walked and bowed in sync to Firebolt and Daniel. Alaura, who had wandered to a further section of the room, discreetly tried to make her way back to Daniel’s side.

The Cave was quiet with intrigue at what they were witnessing. The soldiers were tall, taller than Daniel and Alaura by inches. The creature that walked in towered over even them. He was dressed like the soldiers, draped and loose over his limbs. The being’s attire was more decadent, adorned with jewels and beading patterns of a time long past. His face was uncovered, and on top of his head was a traditional Atef crown. Instead of armor, his chest is covered by layers of gold necklaces.

“I am Osiris,” the being introduced himself, dipping his head to his guests. “And this is my Keep. I am honored to have such esteemed guests in my presence again.”

Daniel, Talia noticed, never bowed in return. “I don’t mean to intrude with our unplanned arrival. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Daniel spoke with a diplomatic confidence that did nothing to dampen his natural charisma.

“Shall we speak more comfortably?" The tall being gestured with his long arms well above the heads of his soldiers.

Danny gave a small nod, and the sight changed again. Osiris, Daniel, and Alaura are seated in plush couches and chairs in a room lined with embellishments from cultures past, present, and future. Firebolt stood beside Daniel’s brightly decorated chair. Artworks of many mediums float about the exterior of the room, shifting to be seen by those who look upon them. Plates offering beautiful delicacies Talia had never seen before were suspended in the air between the occupants.

Alaura seemed to be the only one who saw anything peculiar about the room. Her mouth stayed parted as she craned her neck to see the infinite expanse of wall with no ceiling in sight. Every inch holds a part of an infinite addition of frames and artworks that performed as soon as they were beholden. When she turned her attention to the offerings of biscuits, desserts, and ruby flutes of mysterious drinks, they clamored towards her.

When Alaura hesitated to grab a biscuit that preened for her attention, Osiris prompted her forward. “Do help yourself. They’ve adjusted themselves for your mortality.”

“They’re not alive, right?” Alaura asked, trying to find some inclination from Daniel.

“Of course not,” Osiris chuckled, amused. The biscuit threw itself into Alaura’s hand to be eaten. He turned his attention to Daniel, deciding that he was satisfied with his hospitality on that front. “Do tell me, Prince of Frost and Many Things, what brings you to my corner of life and death.” A drink flute fluttered to Osiris’s hand at a small beckon.

Daniel took a flute for himself and sipped from it without caution for its contents. Seeing him do so, Alaura finally took a small bite of her biscuit. Despite her son’s leisurely attire of clashing colors and styles, the blood that stained them, and the bandages they hid, Daniel did not seem little in the large room. He had, with his presence alone, taken hold of it. When he opened his mouth to speak, the room literally paused to listen. 

“I came to retrieve my mirror,” Daniel told him. Talia noticed the more he drank from the flute, the more his eyes developed a hint of green they weren’t known to possess. 

“This is kind of giving villain,” Kon-el said humorously, scrutinizing.

“A really hot villain,” Wonder Girl was sure to correct, much to Damian’s detest.

“Cassie, please,” Timothy sighed, while Stephanie snickered at the comment.

"What does he need a mirror for anyway?” Stephanie wondered aloud now that they’d taken a break from their silence.

“It’s probably a magic mirror or something," Timothy hypothesized. Talia kept her information about the Stone of Mirrors her father had desired to herself.

“Mirror, mirror, who’s the hottest of them all?”

“Cassie.”

“You’re just mad because you know it’s not you.”

Osiris didn't respond to Daniel’s request immediately. When too long had passed, “I was told you have it,” Daniel pushed, an edge growing in his voice. The children quieted down.

“That I do,” Osiris confirmed, his pleasant demeanor from before cowed. “I am not one to abandon an Oath once I have given it. The Stone of Mirrors that you seek is kept safe from those unworthy to take it, and very few are.”

Daniel didn’t speak in the silence Osiris offered, taking a sip of his drink that never seemed to empty despite the small size of the flute. Alaura watched the scene with intrigue, having not seen Daniel behave in such a manner since they’d met early in the trials.

Finally, Osiris spoke again, bridging the room’s silence. “The conditions were made so that only one who bears both the Crown of Infinity and the Ring of Rage may retrieve it at a time seen fit. But, in all the realities, there is no one who fits this criterion."

Daniel realized something unpleasant at those words. “That is true,” he nodded in acceptance of the information, leaving the space for Osiris to fulfill his request.

“The Mirror tests all who come in its wake, and you would be made no exception.” Talia didn’t recall a test of any kind when she had approached the Stone of Mirrors.

Daniel set his glass to float on nothing once he decided he was finished with it. “It’s only fair,” he accepted. The ice had pulled back somewhat since he’d arrived at the Keep, but it still clung to his cheek, jaw, and neck, and his white hair had stayed that way.

“Very well then,” Osiris conceded, seeming relieved as though it was Daniel who towered over him and held a valued station. He had called Daniel a prince not much earlier, Talia remembered, ‘of Frost and Many Things.' The being reached for a door that certainly hadn’t been there and called for a servant. One distinguishable from the soldiers only by a lack of weapons, arrived hastily. “Show our guests to the Oathbound room.”

“With gladness.” The servant made a gesture. Daniel motioned for Alaura to follow them at her questioning look, while Firebolt needed no instruction. The servant finally turned to the guests in question when they approached. Despite the servant’s face being fully covered, their surprise was not hidden. “You’re—” the servant blurted at Danny before recalling their manners. “It’ll—We’ll be this way, please, sir.” A sheen of nervousness took the servant's behavior for a reason Talia can’t be certain about yet.

"Looks like you have competition, Cassie,” Stephanie snickered, coming to her own conclusion.

Osiris followed behind Alaura and Firebolt the whole way through winding hallways and past innumerable doors. For the first time since they arrived, they did not simply appear at their destination, though it was not because the oddities had suddenly receded. Eventually, the servant brought them to a stop. Without the words that might fail them, the servant simply bowed in presentation of the door and stepped aside.

“We have arrived,” Osiris said with grandeur. It’s unclear whether he was speaking to Daniel and his companions or the door that opened at his words. The children around Talia sounded off on the clear oddities that Daniel seemed wholly unfazed by.

The doors opened inwards, presenting the single gold pedestal in the empty room. The blue Stone of Mirrors, which the previous Demon’s Head had wanted, sat seemingly unguarded. Osiris, like his servant, stepped aside from the doorway without any more words.

“We just need to get that?” Alaura asked, the confidence returning. “Seems easy enough.”

“Should I retrieve it?” Firebolt asked.

Daniel made no motion to enter the room, exercising the caution that had gotten him so far. He was injured in his right arm, and his hair had gone white to signal that he had neared the crux of how much power his body could withstand. “Be careful," Daniel said to no one in particular, taking a single step in the direction of the room.

The doors shut behind him before even the Speed Force incarnate could slip in. He attempted to get through in a manner Talia had seen Flash use: phasing through the particles by moving faster than them. It was futile, and the creature turned to Osiris with the anger of one who had been slighted. “You will open this door.”

“I cannot. The room is bound only to its Oath."

“What does that mean? Isn’t this your Keep?” Alaura demanded, attempting to use her own might unsuccessfully.

“My job is to watch over the Stone of Mirror entrusted to my care. The Oath is what guards it. There is none but himself who can aid the Prince once the trial has begun.” 

Rejected, “So we just have to wait here,” Alaura realized.

Daniel’s camera had fortunately managed to follow him inside the room. When the door disappeared from behind him, he didn’t seem startled. “There’s always something," he grumbled to the camera. He seemed much more at ease than those on the other side of the door.

Talia’s son walked towards the stone that sat idle when a soldier appeared behind him. It was just as it had been when she had come to the chambers. “The Stone of Mirrors is guarded under Osiris’s oath; it is not permitted for you to retri—” The soldier’s stern words came to a startled stop when Daniel turned around to face him. “I apologize. I meant no disrespect.” The soldier immediately backtracked. 

“It’s alright,” Daniel said with ease. “Go ahead.” He gestured for the soldier to continue.

The soldier cleared his throat and continued without the confidence he previously held. “The Stone of Mirrors is conscripted under the care of Osiris and his keep until the… um, King wishes to retrieve it at his convenience.” The end of his words seemed particularly difficult for the soldier to get out, his ostrich mask turning to look at the stone that stood idle, then where the door should be. “Has there been some kind of mistake?” The soldier asked Daniel, his voice small.

There had been talk of princes and kings, though never expelling the information of what territory it was that they reigned over. Daniel had been called a prince by many, of ice by his digital admirers, of Gotham by those who leered for the influence the Wayne title afforded him, and of the League of Assassins and Shadows. The ‘King’ seemed to be somehow related to the princedom of Osiris and his soldiers revered Daniel with. Who, then, would be made King? Unknowingly, Bruce for being Daniel’s father? Or was it in relation to the Fentons? Equally likely was something wholly separate from either of them.

“An oversight on my part,” Daniel told the soldier, making sure not to sound perturbed with the fidgety boy. “We’ll follow normal procedure,” he told the soldier encouragingly. Twice, he had put aside his own misgivings to assist another.

The soldier pressed his anxiety into the grip he had on his spear. “As a guardian of Osiris's Keep and his Oath, I shall defend the Stone of Mirrors from those who wish to take it. Knowing this, would you voluntarily exit the premises?”

“No, I’d like to have the stone.” Daniel said simply, like he was following a script. Once he finished speaking, he nodded at the soldier to say his part.

“Then, I would have to stop you by force.” The soldier clearly did not want to do so. “And with all the means I have access to.”

“I understand,” Daniel agreed to the terms, and a sword of ice grew in his hands with a magical grace.

“Wow,” the soldier cooed, impressed, “I mean—” he cleared his throat. “Let’s begin.” The soldier shuffled forward and, with hesitancy, attacked Daniel with his spear. Daniel, despite his injuries, had little trouble fighting back. They exchanged blows, with Daniel exercising enough skill that the soldier was clearly on a path to lose. “I shall call for backup,” he said as if asking for permission when he wasn’t able to keep up with Daniel. Daniel pulled back to give the soldier time to do so. 

“This is the most polite fight I think I’ve ever seen.” Stephanie commented, amused, though clearly confused. 

It might have been that word of who their opponent was had spread through the barracks and servants' quarters. After the soldier's request, no backup appeared for long seconds, and he had to continue fighting Daniel alone. When the second soldier finally did appear, it was a surprise to Daniel. 

With their combined force and the element of surprise, the soldiers drove Daniel back and, by circumstance, closer to the pedestal on which the Stone of Mirror rested. And just as suddenly as the soldier had appeared, so had a two-headed beast. Given the two soldiers' fright at the sight of it, they had not been the ones to call it forth. It must be the stone itself. 

“Whoa!” Daniel tried to move out of the way at a mouth of sharp teeth. It seemed like neither head could decide who should be the one to maul him, and instead, Daniel was pushed to the floor under its mangy weight with all his limbs attached. The soldiers looked at the scene with confusion. The first one moved to help Daniel when the second one stopped them with a shake of their head.

 Daniel wormed his way out from under the beast without their help and placed a balancing hand on the pedestal that was just in reach. He made no indication yet for the stone he had come for, but the stone did not seem to be very forgiving of its suitors. Reality crawled around it, and Daniel was replaced by a boy who looked incredibly similar to Damian in more than just his features.

Jason, leaning leisurely on the table not far from Talia, tensed to a full stand at the sight. Timothy and Stephanie, seated much closer to the screen, craned their necks around to see if Damian was still safe in their company. He was.

The little boy who stood in the older teen’s place looked at the scene with wide and shocked eyes. “What the heck?” Little Daniel asked with a squeaky, childish pitch. While Talia had mourned that she would never hear this version of his voice, this was not how she would have wished her desires fulfilled. Daniel’s hair was black now, and there was no ice on his face like there had been moments earlier. His skin was paler than Damian’s had ever been but richer than present Daniel’s. And in every motion of his face was a childish innocence that could not be replaced by simply changing a person’s physical appearance.

Daniel, perhaps 12 now, looked at the two-headed beast’s droll stroll to the floor. The hand he still had on the base of the pedestal fell clean through it, and not expecting it, the little boy yelped as he fell with the pedestal in the place of his chest. He scrambled back so his body seemed whole again, without any of the fight and training his older variant possessed. He scurried to stand and get away from the beast that decided to run at him again.

The attempt was foiled when his foot stuck in the bare floor below him, a part of it invisible below the ground. Daniel tried to pull it free, but to no avail. When the beast was too close, and Talia could do nothing for him— ”Oh my god, I can’t look" —a scream spilled out from Daniel. The sound sent the beast flying into the far wall. Not expecting that of himself either, Daniel smacked a hand over his mouth and looked to the soldiers, clearly expecting to be scolded. His foot, Talia noticed, was now free.

The soldiers looked at each other, confused. “Who are you?” Daniel asked them, tense, confused, and clearly scared, though he tried to hide it as best he could. Daniel had no recollection of where he was or why he was there. Any child would be terrified, and it seemed it only made Daniel’s powers that much more difficult to control. A single scream had left the large and powerful beast whimpering on the floor.

“We are guardians of Osiris’s Keep,” the first soldier responded. “You wished to take the Stone of Mirrors, and it is our duty to defend it.”

“The what of what?” Daniel asked, incredulous. “That thing?” he asked, pointing his small finger at the stone. “Why the heck would I want that?”

The soldiers turned to each other, unsure. The second spoke up. “Do you still wish to pursue it or surrender the trial?” 

“Surrender?” Daniel frowned at the word. “What’s the trial about, anyway?” he asked. Talia knew, understanding the reason or not, her young son would not be stepping away from the challenge.

“You must prove your value to the Stone of Mirrors and pass Osiris’s defense.”

Daniel tilted his head at the soldiers. “And you guys are supposed to be the defense?” he asked haughtily.  

“Yes.”

Suddenly, Daniel thought of something. “Wait a second. You guys aren’t with what’s-his-face, are you?” he accused suspiciously.

“We’re not sure who you refer to. We serve only Osiris and his Oath to the King.”

That seemed to answer Daniel’s question, though it set him more on a defensive edge. “So you’re Pirah Dark’s minions, then.”

The accusations startled both soldiers. "We scorn the name!” They quickly started with vehemence.

“‘Scorn the name’?” Daniel mumbled, not understanding. “This stone thing looks pretty important.” He rounded back. “I’m just gonna take it,” he decided, reaching for it.

“So you would like to—No! Don’t—” the soldiers tried to warn little Daniel against taking the stone prematurely, but they were too far and too slow to stop him.

The Stone of Mirror was much too large for the boy to hold in a single hand, and he was not careful with it. The Stone fumbled out of his fingers and hit the floor, sending a shockwave through the room. It threw the soldiers and Daniel back hard enough against the wall to damage it, and the room shook with the might of an earthquake. 

Outside, Alaura, Firebolt, Osiris, and his servant do not seem to notice any of the chaos inside the Oathroom. There is nothing that might cause a hazard in the room, with the lone pedestal standing unaffected. The stone placed itself back in its resting place without a scratch on it.

From where little Daniel should have landed, limbs too long for a child erupted. “Just one normal day. Is that really too hard to ask?” a voice too deep and gruff to belong to a child around Damian’s age complained. The limbs took purchase in their surroundings to pull out a tall and lithe man. 

The two rings on his hands glistened in the unsourced light in the room. One on his left ring finger, a wedding band, and another on his right middle finger. A head of dark black hair sat atop his head, styled. He wore a lightly colored dress shirt that wasn’t buttoned at the collar, and its sleeves were folded till below his elbows, matched with dark trousers. 

The man stood to his full height, much taller than their present Daniel. “What happened in here?” he asked, looking around at the beast and two soldiers who lay on the ground, unrecovered from the destruction caused by his younger self.

“Holy—” Wonder Girl gasped, jaw low. “Can we keep that one, please?" she pointed at the screen with unkempt desire. Daniel, as a 16-year-old boy, was quite handsome, but it dimmed in comparison to the older version of him in the camera’s view now. It was difficult to tell his age, perhaps something around Richard’s present age, or perhaps older. Features that looked boyish on Daniel now sat perfectly on this taller man.

The second soldier managed to gather herself enough to follow what must be the procedure. “You are in Osiris’s Keep, and we are its guardians. You wished for the Stone of Mirrors, and we must protect it until the stone decides you are fit for it.” The second soldier pulled themselves up, using their spear as a crutch, clearly in no condition to fight.

“I see,”oOlder Daniel nodded. “It seems I’ve caused you quite the hassle. I do apologize,” he said sincerely, looking up at the camera with confusion. “What is that?”

“We do not know, Your Highness.”

Daniel reached the pedestal the stone sat on and picked it up as his younger variant had tried just moments earlier. He, however, is far more successful. “Would you point me to the door?” he asked the soldier. The soldier did nothing, but the door appeared anyway. “Thank you.” he said, and the door opened for him on its own.

All the trouble his past versions had been subjected to and subjected others to seemed unnecessary with how easily this version accomplished the task of retrieving it. Those waiting for Daniel to return perked up with anticipation when the door began to open. Alaura, at the sight of this Daniel, tried to hide her face with her long, loose hair. “Alaura?” older Daniel questioned in greeting. He was not suspicious of her presence until he noticed her guilty behavior. “Something doesn’t seem quite right here," he said coyly in her direction, but didn’t push any further.

“Osiris, we meet again,” he smiled, friendly. He turned then to the servant. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The servant squirmed with nerves under Daniel’s gaze. “The—the honor is mine.”

“I think there are some in there in need of medical attention,” he admitted to Osiris, and the servant quickly scampered off to see to it. “Thank you for caring for the Mirror in my stead."

“It’s a pleasure to be of service.” Osiris bowed his head.

“Dad…” Alaura mumbled for his attention when it wasn’t naturally given to her.

“Hm?” Daniel asked, intrigue in his brow and amusement on his lips.

“I can’t believe Kara got to him first.” Kon-el complained, sighing dreamily. Timothy has no bearings to tell his friends off for their behavior towards his brother, shocked by the development and intrigued by the infinitely curious things they’d now discovered. 

“Isn’t he so cool!” Impulse commented, nearly plastering his face onto the screen to get a better look.

“‘Cool’ isn’t what I would’ve said.”

Jason turned around to see Damian who was frowning deeply at the behavior simply to laugh at him.

Alaura took in a chestful of air and began, “I know I snuck out, and I shouldn’t have, but like, it was totally an accident. And I totally learned my lesson. I thought time traveling would’ve been way cooler and more fun, but it’s just a bunch of rules, and like weird things keep happening. I don’t even know how we ended up in here. And also younger you is really mean,” she said in short succession.

“I was mean?”

“Yeah. Obviously, there’s the whole thing with Kryptonite, and I was trying to be totally professional about it. And so I said I can’t be around green, because, duh, and you definitely thought I was, like, stupid or something.”

At the explanation, Daniel’s exchange with Firebolt paused, the stone still in his hand. Talia can tell he wanted to laugh at the situation, but held back at Alaura’s serious expression. “I’m sorry I was mean to you,” he said as sincerely as he could manage.

Alaura huffed and crossed her arms. “I don’t know if I forgive you.” Clearly, she wanted Daniel to try to earn her favor back.

“Alright, darling.” Daniel let himself chuckle at that at least. More serious now, he turned to Firebolt and handed him the stone, clearly about to follow the action with some instructions. As soon as the Stone of Mirrors wasn’t in direct contact with him, there was another burst of energy. It’s not as intense as the one little Daniel caused and only affected older Daniel. Struggling to regain his balance, Talia’s present Daniel stood in his place.

“No…” Wonder Girl cried dramatically, holding out a hand at the screen mournfully.

“Aw, man.” Kon-el sighed, “I was hoping he’d get to stick around for longer. Maybe forever.”

Daniel looked at Firebolt holding the Stone of Mirrors. “How’d you get that?” he asked, turning behind him to see the now barren pedestal.

“You gave it to me,” Firebolt said honestly.

“I did? When?”

Simply, “Some years from now.”

Daniel accepted the information without much scrutiny, like much of what happened in Osiris’s Keep. He turned to Osiris. “Thank you for your hospitality. We will be leaving now.”

“It’s always an honor," Osiris said pleasantly.

Before he turned to leave, “There might be others who come for the stone," Daniel told Osiris.

“I had suspected as much.” The tall creature nodded. “Do not worry about us.” There was clearly some underlying message Talia didn’t know enough to decode.

“Let’s go," Daniel said to Firebolt.

A LITTLE TO THE RIGHT, BAT CAVE

The cave had fallen into protocol-ready behavior as if they too were standing alongside Brother, Firebolt, and Alaura in Osiris’s presence. Once Brother signaled to Firebolt that they were ready to leave, Firebolt ran up the hallway with a trail of sparks burning behind him and, in a time too fast for Damian to process, ran back at the blur of himself that hadn’t yet passed.

The effect was similar to when he had come to collect Brother and Alaura from the Superman-themed abomination. The action reminded Damian of the many the Flashes breaking through the various barriers whose consequences would undoubtedly fall on all of them every time. This, though, was different from a human speedster colliding with an inanimate thing like sound, light, or time; this was the Speed Force itself colliding with itself. A collision of energy itself. Damian glanced at Timothy and Impulse, wondering what they made of the scientific impossibility they had all just witnessed.

Eventually, the camera cleared up to show the three of them in the metal hallways of the original tournament. “What the hell just happened?” Todd said expressively.

In agreement with him, light-years away, “I’ve had fever dreams that were more normal than that., Alaura commented with exhaustion. It’s difficult to know what stage of the tournament Firebolt had brought them to, with all the hallways indistinguishable. While white hair was an effect Brother’s powers had previously had, Damian is sure he’d never seen ice grow over his face like the tendrils of a lightning bolt. Clearly, using his powers to keep both himself and Aluara safe was taking a toll on him. 

Brother sat on the floor of the empty hallway,his weight leaning against the wall and his knees pulled up. His skin was paler than normal, though it might be attributed to the unflattering lights in the hallway. The little ice that had receded earlier crept forward again, teasing the bridge of his nose. Alaura turned around when Brother didn’t offer her a response or reaction. Her brows creased in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said it in a too-flippant tone. Firebolt stood with the Stone of Mirrors in his hand beside Brother, and Alaura took a careful seat on his other side. Brother buried his head in his knees, abstracting any expressions; still, Alaura glanced at him in short intervals. She kneaded at her lips and pulled forward a strand of her hair to brush repeatedly with her fingers.

Then, unable to hold herself back, she said, sincerely, “I’m sorry about the lasers.” Looking over for a reaction that she couldn’t see, “And for breaking the rope, and not being able to fly. And for cutting your arm." So she had realized that it had been her doing, then. “And not being helpful in the last trial.” Her frustration and disappointment only grew the latter section.

Brother didn't look up from where he rested his head but still offered condolences. “It’s okay, it’s only your first time.”

Alaura believed him easily, as symbolized by her hair being deemed brushed enough. “What was your first mission like?” Alaura decided to ask, curiously.

Brother scoffed sardonically, “Way worse than yours.” He propped his head and leaned it on the wall with his back, eyes closed.

Disbelievingly, “Really?” Alaura turned her body to face Brother with intrigue. Firebolt only watched and gave nothing away about what might have transpired or if he had been there. When Brother clearly wasn’t going to offer any elaboration, Alaura grumbled bitterly and crossed her arms. “You can’t just say that and not elaborate,” she pushed. 

“Yeah, Dan-ny." A new voice made Brother’s shoulders go stiff, and he opened his eyes to find Wraith hovering a distance away. Brother’s eyes are glowing green as they had after his experience with the Lazarus Waters. Mother's shoulder recoiled at the sight, but her expression remained impassive. “Tell her how bad you screwed up,” Wraith drawled on, lazily bringing his feet to the ground.

Brother stood. “Sure, and she’ll know all about how I beat your ass.” 

“You got lucky,” Wraith sneered, turning his attention from Danny to Firebolt, who didn’t seem alarmed by Wraith's presence in the slightest. He grinned at the Speed Force. “Did you like my present?” he asked, displaying his rows of shark teeth that forced his rendition of Brother’s face to move in a way a human’s wasn’t capable.

Firebolt didn’t seem pleased with whatever Wraith was implying. Still, begrudgingly, “I owe you my gratitude.” Brother looked between them to find an explanation.

Alaura slowly approached from where she’d been behind Danny to get his attention by pulling at his sleeve. “What is that?” Alaura asked in hushed horror.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?" Wraith chuckled, finding humor in her horror at his existence.

Despite that, “That’s why I asked.”

“What are you doing here?” Brother asked Wraith instead of answering Alaura’s question.

Wraith peered at him, slits forming in his homogeneously colored eyes. “Who’s asking?”

Brother frowned, eyes still glowing green. “I am.”

“That’s not very descriptive." Wraith said with a flippant hand, purposely to annoy Daniel. Alaura and Firebolt watched the interaction, one with fear and the other with manufactured indifference.

Brother frowned at Wraith’s pleasure and, in response, Wraith punched Brother in the gut. Firebolt, who was able to see that coming, did nothing to intercede until after Brother and Alaura, behind him, were sent flying. He caught them to set them down.

Alaura was disgruntled, and Daniel, taking the brunt of the assault, kneeled, coughing at the floor. His eyes, instead of the unusual green glow, were back to their natural gray-blue, drowning with annoyance when he looked up at Wraith. “What the hell?”

“See, now I know who I’m talking to," the creature said with a manufactured yawn. Firebolt, too belatedly in Damian’s opinion, helped Brother back to his feet. “I have the faintest feeling that I’m forgetting something…” Wraith dramatically reenacted.

Brother, though irritated, didn’t look like he was going to retaliate against the punch. Damian noticed now that some of the ice that had grown across his face drew back into itself, albeit slowly. Seemingly used to Wraith's antics, Brother only crossed his arms and waited for the creature to play out his dramatics. 

“What was it…” Wraith tapped his finger-length claw at his chin. "Hm…" He itched at his head cartoonishly.

Daniel rolled his eyes in response. “Okay, we get it. Can you just spit it out?”

“Damn, and it was right on the tip of my tongue, too.” Wraith snapped his fingers, and a rush of wind sent their hair and Brother’s jacket whistling in a strong wind. “Now I have to remember all over again.”

“Who the hell is this guy?” Todd scoffed at the behavior, annoyed for Daniel.

"Wraith," Timothy and Damian responded at the same time.

Brown rolled her eyes. “That was so helpful, thank you,” she said sarcastically.

“He’s a ghost," Drake said in apology.

“No, he’s not,” Damian countered on Wraith’s own admission to it.

“You guys are really throwing ‘ghosts’ around a lot," Wonder Girl commented, “Are you being haunted or something?”

“Something like that,” Drake offered.

“Wait, seriously?” Kent jumped at the brush of nothing.

“They’re not here right now, idiot," Damian scoffed.

 Wonder Girl looked between Damian and Timothy. “Wait, you're serious?”

On the screen, Brother had lost his patience with Wraith. “How about you come find me when your bit is over?" he said with every intention of walking away.

Wraith watched Firebolt and Alaura follow behind Daniel in an arbitrarily picked side of the hallway. “Oh, I just remembered what it was,” Hh announced, waiting for Brother to begrudgingly face him. “Plasmius is on his way here.”

“What?” Brother tensed at the fact.

Appearing suddenly right between Brother and Alaura, “I said—”

“I heard you. When?” Brother and Firebolt weren’t nearly as startled as Alaura was by the sudden reappearance. Wraith grabbed Alaura’s hand and peered at the watch on her wrist. He held it between two fingers while Alaura tried to free herself from his grip. He let go just as Brother was about to step in, giving the face of the watch a tap with the end of his claw. Alaura cradled her wrist in her other hand, unhurt. 

"Like 16 minutes counting from 11 minutes ago,” Wraith said as if that were sage advice. Alaura made a face at the odd phrasing.

“What did you waste all that time for?" Daniel scolded Wraith.

“Oh yeah, and one other thing,” Wraith said his casual tone offset by him grabbing Brother by the collar harshly and holding him high enough so only his toes grazed the floor. “Don’t you fucking think you can make me your little errand boy. I did this to prove a point and maybe to blow shit up—which I did—but mostly to make a point. Do not ask me for anything for the rest of your pathetic unlife,” Wraith threatened harshly before letting Brother fall as he disappeared like a wisp.

“Are you okay?” Alaura came to help him up.

Brother winced at the agitation of his injuries but got to his feet regardless. “Was he always that fucking pissy?” he grumbled to Firebolt.

“Yes.”

“Who was that? ” Alaura asked.

“Wraith.”

“Okay.” Alaura took the unexpressive answer, “How do you guys,” She gestured vaguely, “know each other?"

“He tried to kill me a couple of times. And a bunch of other people. Long story,” Brother explained too simply, brushing off the topic to turn back to Firebolt, ignoring Alaura’s appalled reaction. “Take the Stone back to the Keep for now,” Brother told his friend, tone serious, adding more for himself, “I’ll have it put somewhere else later.”

Firebolt frowned at the idea. “No, I’m not leaving.”

Brother wasn’t expecting the argument and frowned. “Bolt,” he said something close to admonishing. “Plasmius isn’t anything that big of a threat if he’s coming here alone, but he will be if he gets the Mirror.” Despite his words, Brother was clearly tense about the impending arrival. Though Damian did not wish any danger on Daniel, this was the closest he’d come to finding out anything about Plasmius despite how hard he and Drake had searched.

“It’s not you that’s underprepared but him who's too sly for a proper fight,” Firebolt, still unmoved, said, “I’ll keep the Mirror safe at the cost of my title and the Realms,” he pledged.

Alaura watched the exchange with interest. “Plasmius is a bad guy, right?”

“He’s much worse than bad,” Firebolt corrected her, his dislike for the creature impending.

“He’s who you can thank for putting this whole thing together.” Daniel explained, rummaging through Father’s old utility belt again.

“What?” Alaura asked, shocked as the inhabitants of the Batcave were. “How do you know?”

“Just take my word for—” Daniel stopped to shield his face from the furious sweep of snow that erupted at them without any forewarning. 

Alaura yelped in surprise, ducking behind Daniel to get away. “What are you doing?” 

“That’s not me,” Brother defended, his jacket doing very little to protect him from the unnatural weather. It’s impossible to make out anything that might be happening around them due to the snow, and even Brother, Alaura, and Forebolt were difficult to see from the camera that wasn’t more than a few feet away from them.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the snowstorm stopped, leaving no trace it had ever occurred, aside from a masked man. His attire that was based on the same design as Alaura’s stolen one. The man’s was given more stylization than Alaura’s bare suit, though notably, he wore no symbol or crest either.

His suit, with a base of sleek black, had tones of dark platinum on what were clearly a vambrace and an asymmetrical pauldron on either shoulder. The one on his left was simpler in design, while the one on his right had multiple lames under the outermost cop. He didn’t wear a cape, though his suit had a place for it. The man’s face covering was a redesign of an enclosed knight’s helmet, covering his whole face.

Damian’s first assumption was that this must be Plasmius, his arrival indicated to be imminent by Wraith. If he could mimic Brother’s ice abilities and use them in ways he hadn’t learned yet, Plasmius would surely be a worrisome foe. But the idea was quickly put to rest when it was Brother, who seemed confused by the man’s arrival, and Alaura, who clearly recognized him.

When the snow stopped, Alaura had moved to step out from behind Brother, and at the sight of the man, her face had gone through a bout of emotions. Recognition, first, then relieved, before finally fearful.

“Who is that?” Kent asked, curious.

“We might not know them yet," Drake reasoned.

Brown disagreed. “This is way in the future, right? It could be one of us who really bulked up.”

“It’s probably me," Todd said self-gratifyingly. “Look at the size of his arms. None of you could manage that.”

"No, that’s definitely me,” Drake defended, straining his biceps as much as he could.

“It’s probably not me," Kent admitted.

“Maybe it’s me,” Wonder Girl joked. Damian rolled his eyes at the needless arguing.

“You are in so much trouble, young lady,” the man proclaimed, taking Alaura by the arm. He notably didn’t seem to find Daniel's or Firebolt’s presence odd at all. 

Brother didn’t seem to know what to make of the man. “Who are you?” he asked suspiciously.

Alaura was the most confused by the question. “What do you mean?” she asked, “That’s obviously—”

“Alaura,” the man snapped to stop her. “You can’t talk about the future when you're in the past,” he reminded her, like Daniel had many times.

“Yeah, but this doesn’t count, obviously,” she rolled her eyes, stepping out from behind Brother.

“No exceptions.” 

Daniel watched the exchange scrutinizingly, squinting at the man to try to make out who he might be. Alaura crossed her arms and rolled her eyes again. "You're his brother, even if he doesn’t recognize you older, he still knows who you are.” She argued.

“You—” the man gaped at her, lost for words at her carelessness. He turned to look at Daniel, who was still watching him closely. If this Daniel had been the one from just earlier this same year, the assertion of having a brother would be foreign and incredibly suspicious to him. The man, if he were any of them, would know to be cautious of that.

Daniel’s back is not visible to the man to see the lettering that tied him to the Gotham Foxes, but he eventually noticed the small logo of the sports club that was printed over the chest of the jacket. He eased at the realization and turned back to scold Alaura, “What if we were back before he moved to Gotham?”

“What are you talking about?” Alaura asked.

With a deep sigh, “I’ll tell you later,” the man decided, taking Alaura’s watch hand. “Good thing you set off the sensors on here,” he commented, looking at the dial before adjusting it.

In the man’s arrival, the tension of Plasmius’s arrival had been trampled. Attention was brought back to it when an inhuman screech echoed through the metal hallways. Daniel tensed recognizingit, and so did the man apparently. He dropped Alaura’s arm to step in front of her protectively, reaching a hand out for Daniel, too late.

A creature with sickly green skin and two thick black ram-like horns on its head reached out with both its clawed hands to take Daniel by either shoulder. “You,” the creature snarled, its gaudy two-toned cape flapping behind even after it had pinned Brother against the wall.

The man cursed at the creature's appearance, “Don’t do anything stupid,” He instructed Alaura.

Firebolt, this time, moved to try to get Daniel free. A swirling green portal appeared in the middle of his path, taking Firebolt entirely out of the situation. “Why am I not surprised?” The creature pressed its claws into Daniel’s shoulder, blood trailing along it slowly.

“Dunno, why aren’t you?” Brother said lightly, phasing out of the creature’s grip. He fell the few inches between his feet and the floor and quickly moved to get some space between himself and the creature. The creature hissed at him, a forked tongue slithering at the action. “That’s new. Eat a komodo recently?” Brother’s tone is faux, good-naturedly.

“I know that pesky knight of your will be back, no doubt with the Stone of Mirrors. Quite kind of him to deliver it to me himself.” Plasmius is clearly trying to mimic Daniel’s flippant attitude for the situation, but his anger isn’t nearly contained enough. “Says a lot about his loyalties, wouldn’t you say?”

The creature has his back turned to Alaura and the man while he attempts to goad Daniel on. The man made a silent gesture to Alaura to stay put, brandishing a long, broadsword from seemingly nowhere. He made a swipe at Plasmius, managing to do damage despite the creature trying to phase through the attack.

Plasmius snarled and turned to grab the man by his arm, and threw him back. “I would kill you now, but one day you’ll be my little errand boy,” he said to the man while reganing his footing. “Would be a shame if you were damaged before then,” Plasmius said snidely. Alaura stepped forward to help the man but quickly froze in her tracks when Plasmius met her clear blue eyes with his blood-red ones, slits narrowing to thin lines at the sight of her.

While the attention was off him, Daniel threw a Batarang at Plasmius. They do little less than leave small cuts on the creature, but it’s enough to draw its ire back to him with full force. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, little badger.” He turned his head around like an owl, his body still facing the man who came to attack, but was held still by an invisible force. “You must think this is just another one of your victories against me. Win the battles to win the war, as some idiot probably said.” He stepped closer to Brother, who in turn stepped back. The man is still held in place, and Alaura is far too stricken by fear to help. Damian should have been there. If he had managed a way to be taken with Brother, he might have helped his chances.

“Of course, you, naive child, believed it. Thought to yourself, if you could track my plans, then you could put the great big brain of yours to some use. With some strain, you might have been able to come up with something half decent, perhaps.” There is a glistening rage peering through the sheer cover of Plasmius's attempt to be idle. The creature, from his core, hated Damian’s brother with every fiber of the word’s meaning. “You sent the knights first to scout, perhaps when you finally managed to find my research lab. Predictable as always.” Daniel stopped backing away, paying intense attention to Plasmius’s words. “I captured them. Put them to real use. The Prince they were so willing to die for is the one they’ll help me to kill.”

The Cave is impossibly tense, the pressure too tense for Damian to even breathe. Plasmius wants to kill his brother. Damian can feel a shiver in his spine and an itching in his muscles to move. To do something, Damian might have recalled the need to protect from a mission when he’d see an innocent child or a stray dog caught in the midst of an attack. Damian would feel the rush in his blood to get them away from the danger. This was different, stronger. It was the push for survival when the chances of it were slim, the adrenaline rush that gave him the ability to do things he might not have been capable of otherwise.

The man from the future pulled against his invisible restraint. “Bolt,” he hissed out between his efforts, “Hurry up.”

Brother’s face was cold with anger as Plasmius continued to speak. “It was only a matter of time before the second wave came. Well-timed, I should commend. I knew not to expect one after that; surely even you would know better.” It grated on Damian the way he spoke to Daniel. “What did surprise me was what you sent instead. Your parents' murderer.” Plasmius seemed pleased with himself when Brother’s face twitched at the last claim.

“What?” Brother squinted to decipher the meaning.

“I admit I never thought you so cruel, Daniel.” Plasmius pretended to be disappointed. He took the final step between him and Brother, looking down at him in a more literal sense now. “I know you three may have had your differences, but it's all a part of growing up. Killing them in cold blood," he paused, shaking his head, “how dishonorable."

“What are you talking about?” Brother asked, truly confused. He could attack Plasmius now. They were close enough. If Brother stopped the conversation now, maybe the fear bubbling up in Damian’s stomach for how Brother might react to knowing who had killed Fentons might quell the passing nausea.

“No need to be so coy, Daniel. Others may be disappointed, but I always knew your true nature. Not so noble now are we. What will the people say once they hear? They'll flock to someone better. Greater. More powerful. I, of course, figured the objective was to destroy the Ecto-skeleton among some… other things. A setback, but not one I can’t overcome.

“Infiltrating this tournament,” Plasmius gritted his teeth. “You crossed the line. I was the one who tracked Osiris down. I was the one who arranged the tournament.” He grabbed Brother’s face, pinching his cheeks with his long claws. “You, usurping brat, ruined everything.” He moved his other hand to do something when, finally, a burst of sparks and lightning came hurtling towards them.

Damian is not entirely sure what the Firebolt did, but Plasmius's motion was slowed to glacial. There were a few stray sparks in the air around him, but they did no damage. Daniel pulled himself free from the claws holding his face. “He sent me to the Phantom Zone,” Firebolt explained. 

"Ironic," Daniel huffed, wiping the blood on his cheek with the back of his hand. 

With Plasmius slowed, the masked man was finally able to pull himself free from his invisible restraints. “For someone with all of existence’s energy at their fingertips, you sure took your time.” He grumbled at the Speed Force.

“I won’t take complaints from useless knights,” Firebolt snapped a retort. He handed the stone to Brother, who looked on curiously. The exchange of the stone caused a small surge of energy to pass in the room, not damaging like in the Oathroom, but apparently enough to free Plasmius from his slothfulness.

Immediately, he swung for Brother, but Firebolt was quick to intercept. Plasmius, for all intents to harm, did not seem so willing to go far enough to entail a full-fledged fight. 

“How’re your shoulders?” the masked man asked Brother, eyeing the reddened rips in his jacket.

“Should be fine. I iced them.” He rolled them as proof. The blood on his face had stopped flowing, too, though there was no more ice on it than there had been earlier.

Nodding, “Make sure you get it checked when you get back,” the man instructed. Alaura shuffled closer to the fight, trying to work up her nerve.

With Firebolt ready to counter any possible attack, Plasmius could only glare at Brother with distaste. “How cowardly of you to hide behind your knights. Why not face me yourself?” he goaded.

Brother tilted his head at Plasmius, staring right into his snake-slit eyes. His expression made Damian’s neck hair stand on end even though he was not on the receiving end of it. Daring Plasmius, “Do you want to fight?” he asked. Firebolt and the man both react to the question; it clearly had a hidden meaning Damian wasn’t privy to.

Plasmius frowned, glowering. He didn’t answer, scanning the three who stood to oppose him and Alaura. “Well?” Daniel prodded, hand itching. “Why not get this over with?”

"No," Plasmius said. “Not yet. But do not doubt that one day I will have you at my feet by any means necessary. And they’ll all see I am the True Prince. Everyone—everything—will be at my beck and call,” he told Brother. “And that day is not very far.” Plasmius’s hand goes into the space between his back and his cape, and his smile splits his face, displaying the green, liquidy flesh hidden under the disguise of skin.

The man has his attention split between Alaura, practically incapable of putting up a real fight, and Brother, who was currently being targeted. Firebolt, with the speed to traverse universes and galaxies in mere moments and likely other abilities he hadn’t yet showcased to them, was a good defense as any to have. Brother, clearly having already exhausted his powers by now, still seemed ready to fight Plasmius as soon as the call was made.

Perhaps knowing that they had underestimated their opponent. “Hand over the Stone, Daniel, while I’m in the mood to be civil.”

“No,” Brother clutched the stone with the force to turn his knuckles white.

Plasmius sighed, “This is your last chance.”

“You could fight me for it.”

Plasmius sneered at the offer, baring jagged and serrated teeth. He launched himself at Brother, and Forebolt was first to react. The masked man stepped forward with his broad black sword in front of Brother, too, who was ready to defend himself. The creature had anticipated their actions and teleported himself past both. Brother moved away, brandishing a sword to slash at the creature.

Plasmius split himself, and now there are two of them. They look identical and seem to be capable of moving entirely on their own, and it’s impossible to tell who the original might be. One swept for the Stone, while the second zipped forward to attack. Plasmius is much faster than the man, but no match for Firebolt.

Whether by Brother’s command or of its own volition, the stone pulsed again, disintegrating the Plasmius who was aiming for the Stone of Mirrors. It didn’t seem able to differentiate between friend and foe, pushing Plasmius, Firebolt, the man, and Alaura back too.

“You brat,” Plasmius hissed, preparing for another attack. This time, he fully forewent the Stone and reached for Brother’s neck with his long claws. He evaded the sword and threw something at Brother. Firebolt, more focused on Plasmius himself, left Brother to defend himself against the unknown projectile. Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough time to react, and the metal piece clasped itself onto Brother’s neck.

Damian realized with a chill; he recognized it. Not immediately; the design was different from the one he and Timothy had found on Masters’ island. The ghost meta-collar. How dare he. How dare he put a collar on Damian’s brother like he were an animal.

“Shit,” the masked man cursed, too far away to do anything substantial. He’d been aiming for Plasmius, but seeing the sheen of silver metal, he quickly pivoted to head for Brother instead.

Plasmius ignored Firebolt’s attack on him to see the realization pass on Brother’s face. As soon as the item clasped itself, Brother’s sword, unlike every other time he dismissed it, shattered like glass. His hair flashed back to its deep black, and the ice on his face fell like shavings from an ice machine. 

Brother’s permanent sense of calmness, despite the situation, fell apart with his powers. His eyes widened with understanding. Mother gripped Damian’s shoulder, jaw clenched with all the anger Damian himself was feeling.

Plasmius seemed entirely pleased with the situation despite the burst of crackling energy that had shot straight through him. He laughed, for the first time since his arrival, delighted. “Never say I never gave you anything, Daniel,” Plasmius proclaimed before disappearing to lick his wounds.

Firebolt turned to where the man had reached Brother. The man’s sword had disappeared now, and both his hands held Brother’s shoulders. “Hey,” the man said, consoling and confident, moving so that Brother was forced to look at him. “It’s going to be okay.”

Brother’s whole body was rigid and stiff. He looked at the unfamiliar man and pushed him off. “Get off me," Brother said venomously. The man didn’t force his hold and let go. Brother’s blood stains on his hands were visible when he held in the air placidly.

With the ease of familiarity, the man snapped the buckle of the utility belt that was slung under Brother’s half-zipped jacket and threw it far out of both of their reach. The man quickly retracted his hand into a surrender position. “Don’t do anything stupid. Let me look at it so I can get it off.”

Firebolt, hesitant to turn away at first, went for the Stone. Without his powers or a utility belt, there's nothing Brother could do to ward off the Speed Force. Alaura watched, not knowing what to do, clearly frightened by the situation. Daniel looked between the three with a calculating look.

The man stepped forward to close the small gap between him and Brother. “I’m going to take a look at it,” he explained, displaying his actions. Using the motion to his advantage, Brother used the man’s solid build as a jumping-off point, knocking the man to the ground. 

In a moment, he was standing in front of Alaura and took her hand without any forewarning. “Wha—Ow!” she yelped when Brother snapped her wrist back to call the same knife that had slashed his arm in the Superman trial.

“Hey! Don’t do that,” the man shouted, quickly going after him. “Bolt, get that—”

Brother grabbed the knife and slashed at the metal collar secured around his neck, not caring at all for the delicate flesh that surrounded the area. With the first slash, he managed to cut the metal enough to expose some of its inner workings and create another cut leading away from it. From what Damian could see in the short moment it was visible, the cut seemed relatively shallow. It’s not comforting at all when both Alaura's and Daniel’s camera views are completely scrambled before they turn blank.  

“What the hell?” Jason snapped, "Tim, get it back on!”

“This is just feed from Bruce’s cowl!” he defended, trying to do something. “The broadcast cut off from their end.”

“Why?” Damian demanded.

“I don’t fucking know!”

“Well, figure it out.”

“I’m obviously trying!”

THE PAST

Alaura clasped a hand over her wrist, shocked by the harsh motion it was forced into. This had all started as Alaura’s plan to prove to her dad and everyone else that she wasn’t the naive, innocent little girl they took her for, that she was just as capable as her teen-hero cousins. Alaura had a lot of the same training as them, and she could even beat them in practice fights. She was half Kryptonian! She was supposed to go home and gloat about it to her siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles, and really anyone who would listen, because she’s just done her own mission totally on her own.

Whatever was happening now—whatever had been happening since they got out of the maze—was not anything Alaura had ever been prepared for. Dad thought something was up since they fought the fake Justice League, or probably since before then, really. Sure, it was weird that Green Lantern wasn’t included, but with the Superman trial started, she forgot all about that. And things only got worse from then.

She knew Dad worked with supernatural creatures sometimes, so she wasn’t that weirded out at Osiris’s Keep. Not true; she was actually super weirded out, but Osiris was nice, so Alaura didn’t really find him to be scary. But Wraith and Plasmius? Wraith had punched Dad hard enough that Alaura was sent flying with him. And for some reason, Dad didn’t really think he was actually trying to put them in danger for some reason. That just made Plamius's arrival come off even worse. Wraith had been like that when he wasn’t trying to really hurt them, but Plasmius was someone Dad and Uncle Damian were worried about being there.

Alaura had never seen someone give Uncle Damian that much trouble in a fight, and Plasmius wasn’t even really paying him much attention. When he’d turned to look at Alaura, she’d felt like the blood had drained out of her. He was so scary to even look at. And he had the stench of blood on him. Osiris had smelled like death, too, but that was different; he didn’t smell like murder and rotting bodies. Alaura had been so terrified from just looking at him that she couldn’t even move.

She hadn’t even tried to help Uncle Damian get free from whatever was holding him down, and he hadn’t tried to help Dad get away from Plasmius slicing into the skin on his shoulders, even when she saw and heard it happen. She stood there like a petrified statue while Firebolt fought him off, and when Plasmius had launched the thing at Dad. She’s not sure what it was, but she could’ve helped. She wasn’t as fast as a Flash, maybe, but she was almost as fast as Superwoman, and that would’ve been fast enough.

Alaura could’ve helped, but her limbs refused to push against the fear holding them back. Alaura hadn’t realized that Dad had wanted to take the wrist knife from her suit. And because it was Dad, Alaura didn’t really think he’d do something as insane as putting a knife to his own neck to get his way. 

“Hey! Don’t do that,” Uncle Damian tried to tell Dad. Uncle Damian was too far to stop him, but Alaura was basically right next to him. “Bolt, get that—” Alaura pushed herself forward just one step before a powerful force threw her back, and she hit the wall hard enough that her vision gave out.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been since the ringing in her head woke her up. Is this what a concussion is supposed to feel like? She’s never had one before. There’s an indent in the wall that held her in place. She pulled her head out to see what was going on.

Something was growing out of Dad. She’d never seen anything like that outside of those weird cult movies Mari always puts on. It was like the thing was trying to rip Dad apart so it could take his place. Something really cold, and definitely not human. Dad was trying to fight against it, but he was clearly not faring well.

The creature’s hand erupted out of Dad’s chest, ripping apart his flesh so its too-long fingers could go at the collar at his neck. His nails ripped the metal without any effort before ripping it through Dad’s neck. Alaura was too terrified to even scream as she watched it envelope Dad with its odd translucent blue 'flesh.' 

“You never listen,” the thing hissed. The creature hovered in the spot Dad had been, smashing the collar into dust in his fingers. Alaura felt tears stream down her face, feeling the last hour finally bubble over.

She turned to find where Uncle Damian was. He would know what to do, right? He’d been thrown further back and was just now stirring awake. He pushed himself up by his forearm to see the creature that ate Alaura’s dad. “Oh, shit.” The man jumped to his feet much faster than his condition should allow.

The creature cried out, smashing each chunk of metal until it was ground into a fine dust. The sound echoed in the metal hallways, stinging Alaura’s sensitive ears. He kind of sounded… scared. The hallway had been getting colder since the creature swallowed Dad, and now frost was sprouting on the walls.

“Phantom,” Uncle Damian called for him in a gentle voice. “You remember me, don’t you?" he asked and walked toward the creature. The creature backed away from him, with what sounded like another cry. “Hey,” Uncle Damian tried again, “None of that, okay?” It reminded Alaura of when she was little and would cry if she got hurt playing. “I know you're scared. But I’m here and so is Firebolt. No one is going to hurt you. Or Daniel.”

That reminded Alaura that she hadn’t seen Firebolt. Where was he?

“You believe me, don’t you?” Uncle Damian asked. Phantom didn’t say anything, but still, Alaura got the sense of him being hesitant but willing to let Uncle Damian help him. “Good, can you give me the Mirror in your hand? We need to make sure we put it somewhere safe.”

There’s a low buzz of static in the air that Alaura knew was a precursor to Bolt arriving. He came to a stop between Phantom and Uncle Damian. He seemed really nervous about something, the mirages of his appearance filtering more than usual.

“No. This is my mirror,” Phantom insisted, in a childish tone.

“Of course it is,” Uncle Damian confirmed with a nod. “But you don’t need it right now, do you?”

“It’s mine. I’m going to keep it,” the voice reverberated through the room like it was coming from the ice growing around them and not Phantom himself.

Uncle Damian’s fully masked head turned slightly in Alaura’s direction before it was back to look at Phantom. Firebolt was the one to speak this time. “You asked that I have it put in your Keep; that is what I will do.”

That clearly was not what Phantom wanted to hear. “No, I didn’t. Danny did,” he said, angrily.

“Phantom, your powers are too strong for the Mirror. You might do something you don’t mean to,” Uncle Damian tried to reason, reaching into his utility belt pocket for something. “As your knight, it’s my duty to keep you safe.”

“If Danny could use the Mirror, so can I,” the creature bellowed. At the words, the blue cube in his hand began pulsing, charging up for something.

“Bolt,” Uncle Damian signaled without any of the tenderness in his words earlier.

The Speed Force burst into motion that Alaura couldn't keep up with. At the same time, Uncle Damian threw a familiar disk at Alaura, and the green shields her dad designed activated around her. The shields were translucent enough that Alaura was able to see what was going on, but there was such a flurry of action that she couldn’t make any sense of it.

She thinks Bolt was able to get the Mirror away from Phantom. And there was a growing black orb-thing in front of Phantom that pulled in the metal wall by fracturing it into shards. It grew bigger the more it ate, and Alaura could feel the pull of it against the shields around her. 

Then, suddenly, there was an explosive boom that knocked against the shields, shattering them. Alaura had never seen anything break past Dad’s shields, not even Mom. She doesn’t have much time to process it before something being pulled at the orb hits her in the head, knocking her out. 

THE WATCH TOWER

Barry hadn’t gotten his powers at a particularly young age, and while he’s sometimes jealous of what the younger Flashs can do, he values how growing up without powers helped him form an identity outside of it. It’s an arching issue with most superpowered or metal kids; they place their abilities at the center of who they are, and everything else is in response or reaction to them.

While Barry himself had never been subjected to the horrors of losing access to his powers, he could very easily empathize with the absolute terror anyone would feel losing, essentially, a part of themselves. A fear that would only be exacerbated for those without the life experience, without it, like Barry. With how well Danny had been doing throughout the whole alien tournament ordeal, and whatever the thing at Osiris’s Keep was, Barry had developed good faith in the boy that he’d been misled to believe was an average civilian. Barry was sure Danny could hold his own beside any of their usual teen heroes. Heck, he could probably hold his own with some of the Leaguers themselves.

Faith in a kid to handle big problems was a double-edged sword because sometimes their capabilities made you forget that they were just a child. And that they were probably scared, very brave and strong, yes, but still scared. Barry wasn’t exactly there to help rectify the situation when the freak that was apparently something called Plasmius showed up. He could hardly blame Alaura for being unable to do anything.

Barry felt the tension of the situation in the Speed Force thrumming under his skin to help. He could hear his blood rushing past his ears, and his jaw was sore from how long he’d clenched it. But when Plasmius threw what was later discovered to be a collar at Danny, Barry felt the same fear as the boy. Realizing Danny had tempered himself and stayed calm through everything, but this was an indicator of how connected any meta felt to their powers. 

Just because you know logically that you could get them back doesn’t make the fear any better. Barry kept his eyes on the screen as the man from the future, who promised to help Danny. If he looked at the others, if he saw their expressions, Barry didn’t really know what he’d do.

Danny, zeroing in on a solution to his problems, shot himself at Alaura. Barry remembered the wrist knives just as Danny yanked the unsuspecting girl’s hand back to call the blade forth. Barry expected, given the strategic ability and clear aptitude for technology that Danny had, that he would dismantle the collar somehow with the knife. 

Desperation always drew people to do things that they would think better of later. Danny hacked the knife at the collar, with no regard for his own sensitive flesh too close in proximity. He stabbed at the metal without any of the finesse and skill he’d displayed before. The metal split, and a surface-level wire was cut, a small spark emitting from it before the cameras turned to static. Both Danny’s and Alaura’s.

“What happened to the feed?” 

Barry rushed to stand on the table to see if there was some kind of connection problem he could remedy. He opened up the back panel and quickly realized he had no idea what he was looking at. He turned to his teammate, “Hal, try to—”

“Way ahead of you.” The broadcast devices were enveloped in a green glow of his Lantern ring. The ring’s technology usually allowed it to use devices rendered useless beyond maximum capabilities. But the broadcast still showed nothing but static.

“The problem must be on their end,” Bruce pointed out, rigid with tension. Barry could hardly blame the guy. Honestly, he was doing pretty well given the circumstances. He tapped into this ear to talk with Oracle or someone else who might be able to help.

There was a quiet ding. “About damn time," Hal said, catching the attention of everyone else. He’d finally gotten a message from some other Lanturns that were on the lookout for Danny. "What's the location?” he asked into the ring before the other side had time to say anything, ready to be on his way. Barry’s not entirely sure how Hal can hear whoever is talking on the other side, but it’s clear they’re saying something unpleasant by his frown. “There was more than just the kid from Earth—” he said before getting cut off. "You're sure?” Hal asked, stressed. “Copy.”

Barry was bursting to ask what that was all about when he suddenly felt really weird. He was in the middle of getting off the table using his speed, with no reason not to, when suddenly it just cut off, sending him careening into the wall, not expecting the loss of motion.

“Whoa,” Clark cautioned, “are you okay, Barry?”

“A little banged up,” Barry answered honestly while Bruce interrogated Hal on what he had communicated. Barry had fallen on his wrist a little weirdly, and it throbbed under his ginger care. He was more careful walking to his seat. It was weird that his speed had just cut off like that. Barry must not have been focused.

“They’d apparently pinned down an area they thought the tournament might be in,” Hal was saying. “Within a 5-yik spherical area. They couldn’t get any closer because an abnormal black hole erupted. Highly unusual since there hadn’t been any signs of gravity malformation before.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

Chances are, the spaceship had something to do with it or someone on there. Some planets have beta technology to jumpstart black holes. Using it was a suicidal move on the part of whoever did it and a really dumb one on the part of whoever authorized it.” Hal made a gesture for the static screens still up in the center of the meeting room.

If Danny and Alaura got sucked into the black hole, that means they were gone. For good. They all realized that. “Firebolt, the Speed Force, was with them. I mentioned he’s too fast for even me to keep an eye on, and he was able to do things I or any of the other Flashes can. He could have gotten Danny and Alaura out of there," Barry voiced, holding his wrist. It was beginning to swell now; he must have really hurt it. He honestly didn't remember the last time it took him this long to heal a sprain, and he wondered if maybe he’d broken something. Yeah, or maybe his age was catching up to him.

“That is true,” Diana backed him up, putting a calming hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce’s attention turned to Barry now, his eyes intensely searching for any kind of solution. “How long do you think it would take him to get here?”

“Hm…” Okay, it took him, what, four minutes to get back from the Phantom Zone? He couldn't teleport, but he could travel through space. If Barry did some quick math in his head, assuming general coordinates, the discrepancy would hardly matter with how fast Firebolt was… 

Oh, no. 

“What?” Bruce demanded, the angry Batman growl coming out at the expression Barry couldn’t keep off his face.

He looked at his unhealed wrist. “I can’t feel the Speed Force.” Barry told Bruce hollowly.

“Did he fucking die in the black hole?”

“Maybe Bolt just needed all his power back to outrun the gravity of a black hole," Clark reasoned, trying to be hopeful.

Barry isn’t sure if it worked that way. Sure, it felt like he had less of the Speed Force when there were more speedsters around, but was Forebolt really able to just call back his power when he needed it? Did that mean there was a totally finite amount of speed force? If the Speed Force were energy, would it be finite or infinite? If the universe were always expanding, that would require energy, which means, in line with quantum field theory, that energy had to be infinite.

Would Barry get his powers back or not? That wasn’t the most important thing right now, but he couldn't help but think about it. If it meant that Danny and Alaura would be okay, Barry could live with it. Probably. But what about Wally and Bart? Did they also lose the Speed Force? What about Donna and Don? They were only babies. Barry was jumping the gun. It couldn’t have been gone for more than a couple of minutes. Just wait it out for now. He knew Bart was in the Bat Cave, but he hoped Wally, if he’d lost his powers, wasn’t in the middle of anything dangerous with the Titans.

“Let’s not lose our—” 

Oliver began, unable to keep the panic out of his own voice, before an automated system cut him off. “Alert. There has been a breach. Alert. There has been a—” Bruce clicked a button to silence the voice, but the red sirens in the corner flashed with warning.  

“For fuck’s sake!”

A FLOATING ISLAND

Alaura opened her eyes to some kind of winter wasteland. She shivered as shards of ice fell from above. There weren’t any clouds, so she wasn’t really sure where they were coming from. The strong current of wind fought against the firm hand of Uncle Damian that pulled her along. She was only able to recognize the man past the thick fog of snow from how familiar she was with him. He held his sword out to protect their faces from the raging snowstorm.

She tried to ask where they were or where they were going or how they even got here, but even with her super hearing, she could hardly make out her own voice. Alaura had no choice but to trudge along in the direction Uncle Damian was taking her. Eventually, she began to make out the shadow of a huge building in the distance. As they walked more, the building’s shape grew clear enough that Alaura could tell that it was absolutely humongous. 

Uncle Damian heaved at the door when they got to it and pulled them away from the snowstorm into the safety of what looked like an abandoned castle. There was no one inside as far as Alaura could see. “What is this place?”

“Phantom’s Keep.” Not stopping, Uncle Damian continued deeper into the castle.

Alaura pulled him to a stop. “We’re in that thing’s house?” she balked.

“That ‘thing’ is your Father, Alaura.” Uncle Damian pulled against her hold

Alaura didn’t let him go. “Um, no.”

"Whether or not you approve does not change the fact," Uncle Damian retorted impatiently. “I’m sure you're confused, but you’ll have to wait for an explanation after we get back. It’s probably better if your Father is the one to tell you, anyway. Now, will you let go of me?"

Alaura considered her options. She could go with Uncle Damian, who seemed to know what he was doing, or she could try to do this on her own. And doing things on her own was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. With a sigh, Alaura let go of Uncle Damian.

“Stay close to me and don’t touch anything.”

Alaura had to jog to keep up with the man’s long and quick strides. “What are we looking for?” she asked. Uncle Damian seemed really familiar with this place, not even passing a glance at the absurd and physically impossible architecture surrounding them or the strange things set on display in what looked to be a never-ending foyer.

“Phantom.”

“So did Phantom, like, eat Dad or something. Like consume his consciousness?” 

Uncle Damian gave her a glance at her words, as if he’d never considered the possibility. “No,” was all he said. This was probably part of whatever Dad was supposed to explain to her when they got back home.

It wasn’t really that Alaura didn’t know what her family’s line of work was. Her Mom’s side was all the Kryptonians with their super cool powers, and her Dad’s side was what most people generally referred to as ‘the Bats,' even though only Grampa had a bat-themed name. She even knew about how Dad was in charge of the LOA, and how they had been the ones to train Uncle Damian when he was little.

Mom and Dad had a lot of superhero friends that Alaura saw all the time growing up, so it wasn’t like she didn’t know that almost everyone in her family was in the Justice League or some other hero team. Dad’s an inventor and scientist, but Alaura doesn’t really know what he’s doing in his lab all day. But no one really knows what their parents are up to when they’re at 'work.'  She knew Dad had powers, but wasn’t exactly a meta, but neither was Mom. It was just so normal she didn’t think much of it. 

Eventually, the never-ending foyer led them to a dead end with a door. “We’re here,” Uncle Damian told her as the hallway behind them disappeared. “Stay close to me and behave.”

“You say that like I’m some kind of demon child.”

“You are.” Uncle Damian knocked on the door before opening it enough to peek inside. Alaura tried to look around him, but all she could make out was that the room was dark and there was a strange sound coming from inside. And the room just felt really… sad. And scared. “There you are," Uncle Damian said softly. “Can we come in?” he asked, opening up the door more. No one had said anything from inside, and Alaura still couldn’t really make out much of the room with Uncle Damian in her way. “I promise no one is mad at you.” Alaura wasn’t able to catch the indicator that permitted Uncle Damian to enter the room, but he gestured for her to follow. 

The inside of the room is massive. Alaura, even with her supervision, can’t see past the darkness to a wall on any side of the room. Even the one attached to the door they had come in from was gone. Were they trapped in here?

Alaura hurried after Uncle Damian, who didn’t seem intimidated or have any difficulty finding his way around. Well, if Phantom was Dad, it made sense that Uncle Damian had been around this place a bunch. She tried to convince herself of that, even though the building clearly didn’t follow any logic or reality Alaura was familiar with.

After walking in a direction for a moment, Uncle Damian sighed and crossed his arms. “Phantom,” he admonished, “this isn’t very polite.”

The room shifted again, and this time it had walls. There was a dome ceiling that looked like it belonged in a planetarium, displaying a breathtaking galaxy above them. The walls had no doors or windows, and the furniture that was placed in the room just hovered in designated spots in the air instead of resting on the floor. Alaura watched a dirty sock slowly fly around the room until it noticed her watching and sheepishly deposited itself into what must be a laundry basket.

“Thank you,” Uncle Damian said, scanning the room. When he spotted whatever it was that he was looking for in the odd bedroom, his shoulders relaxed. Then, Uncle Damian, a human with no powers, started flying towards a floating platform with a telescope peeking out.

Alaura gasped. “You can fly?” How could he have kept this from her!

“There’s no gravity in here, Alaura.” Uncle Damian gestured to the floating everything in the room. "You're only on the ground because you want to be,” he said before flying away.

Not that he would have known about the Superman Trial Incident, but the last comment struck her quite hard. She should be able to fly. She was a Super, for crying out loud; flying is their thing. She watched Uncle Damian land soundly on the telescope's platform.

C’mon Alaura. There’s not even any gravity here. You're not even really flying, just floating around. Just get your feet off the ground. Alaura dug her nails into her palm, her nerves slicking with sweat. She jumped, hoping not to come back down. She frowned when she found herself back on the floor. Alaura tried again. She tried a third time and then a fourth time.

Focus. Think about how Dad was able to fly in the Superman Trial. Alaura closed her eyes so the security of her feet on solid ground couldn't tempt her. She reached for the feeling of untetheredness of Dad’s anti-gravity flight. She was going to float like that sock. Just hovering about. It’s not like she could fall since there wasn’t any gravity.

She wasn’t going to fall. Ready to try again, Alaura opened her eyes to find that the room had turned upside down while she wasn’t paying attention. Her hair floated into her face, and she brushed it back. She couldn’t focus on that; she needed to get to the telescope platform. She looked down to prepare for another try at flying and realized there was no floor anymore. She was just floating like the furniture in the room.

Did this count as flying? Alaura decided it did. She’d finally done it! Now she needed to figure out how to move about anywhere in zero-gravity flight. Oh, Mom was going to be so psyched! Maybe she would even let Alaura get off without getting in trouble.

Awkwardly angling herself, Alaura looked for the telescope platform Uncle Damian had descended on. Not sure how else to move about, she used her hands and legs to swim to the platform. Alaura wondered what might happen if she suddenly weren't able to float around anymore or if the floor suddenly came back. The thought brought her a sense of panic and the faint feeling of something pulling her down. Alaura swam faster for the platform. 

She tried to push the fear of the floor reappearing away, but the harder she tried, the more it seemed insistent on entrapping her. She tried to focus on the platform, and she didn’t let herself look down. Alaura was going to fall—no, she wasn’t. She wasn’t even very good at using her powers, and this was going to end in disaster.

Suddenly, Alaura couldn’t float anymore. She yelped, grasping for the edge of the platform. Not daring to look down, Alaura pulled herself into it. She knew it; she would never be able to fly. Mom was probably so disappointed in her. Without anything else to focus on now, that feeling of distress and helplessness from before seemed saddled on Alaura’s chest.

The emotions felt so heavy and impending, tears prickling at the edge of her eyes without any real reason. Her little brother could fly circles all day, so why couldn't Alaura even get her feet off the ground? And that was only the tip of the iceberg, now that she was thinking about it. She had brought this on herself because she was so confident in her own abilities, only for that same confidence to come slap her in the face. When anything really dangerous happened, Dad had to be the one to get Alaura out. She should’ve done something to help fight against Plasmius. Alaura really did want to cry now. This was all her fault. She was supposed to be responsible. Dad trusted her, and she had gone behind his back. He was going to hate her now.

What? No, Dad would never hate Alaura. The thought finally made her realize these weren’t her emotions. She wiped the tears from her eyes to make some sense of her surroundings. The platform she was standing on was a circular carpet that was made to resemble Earth. On top of North America, there was a floating telescope with no stand. 

Uncle Damian was crouched over Africa, coaxing at a starry blanket that floated in a tight ball over the Indian Ocean. “Yes, you should have listened when we tried to warn you, but it was only an accident,.” he assured the blanket. “Bolt knew you didn’t want to hurt the people there, so he did what he had to make sure they were all safe. A Knight’s job isn’t only to protect the King from the dangers of people but also the danger he is to himself.”

Those emotions Alaura was feeling belonged to whoever was inside the blanket. After a moment, the blanket parted open, and Phantom peeked his head out. He didn’t seem so frightening now, Alaura thought, after learning how scared he was and how hard he wanted to prove himself. He was a lot like her, actually. Phantom floated down so his feet made small ripples when he landed at the beach of the Indian Ocean, the blanket still pulled comfortingly around him.

“You must have really wanted to make sure Danny was safe.”

“He never lets me come out, even when I only want to help. And then he always gets hurt. This time…” Phantom croaked, “it was just like the—the other time.”

“Well, Danny was trying to keep you safe, too. He was just as scared as you were out there. But he wanted to make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt anyone with your powers. That's why he tried to keep you away.”

“No, it’s because he doesn’t think I’m as good as him. He thinks it’s my fault that—that—” There was so much intensity in what Phantom was feeling that even knowing the emotions weren’t really hers, Alaura couldn’t keep herself from crying.

“Daniel doesn’t think that," Uncle Damian promised. “No one does.” The fear that had to be Phantom’s was pushed away by something else. It felt completely different from any of Phantom’s emotions, so it couldn’t have been his. There was only one other person it could be: Uncle Damian. He put out a strong sense of assuredness and offered the confidence in his own words to combat the weight of Phantom’s emotions. “Sometimes bad things happen, and it doesn't have to be anyone's fault.”

“This was someone's fault,” Phantom insisted, though. The fear decreased now, and in its place was an anger so strong that Alaura could hear her blood pound against her neck. “It’s Plasmius’s.”

“The day you defeat him is not so far now. But you will need the help of your knights. And that means Firebolt.”

“But I hurt him. I hurt my friends all over just his Mirror.” The Stone of Mirrors appeared in Phantom’s hand out of nowhere, and he threw it to tumble towards Alaura’s feet.

“The only way forward is to learn from it and make sure it doesn't happen again.” It was a contrast to his earlier reassurance that accidents were excusable. Uncle Damian waited for the words to settle in, marked with a sense of determination that pushed Alaura to try again to fly. “Very good, your highness. The war outside will come to an end on its own time. But not before the restoration of balance inside.”

Phantom accepted the words, though he did not seem to like them very much. “I suppose.” He pulled the blanket to cover his head, and the standing form slowly descended to the floor. Human limbs peeked out from under the fluffy blanket. Uncle Damian moved it aside to show the teenage version of Dad. He was fully healed, his hair was black again, and there wasn’t any ice growing on him. Even the rip in his windbreaker was gone.

Uncle Damian stood and picked him up. “Are we going to take him back now?” Alaura asked, keeping her voice down, not sure if Dad was sleeping or unconscious.

“We have a couple more stops to make, but they should be quick,” Uncle Damian explained. “Unless you want me to drop you back home first? Your mother had quite some things ready to say to you.”

Alaura was so dead. “I’ll come with you.” She should cherish the last moments of her life as she knew them.

“Great.”

THE WATCHTOWER

With Danny and Alaura unaccounted for in an area the Green Lanterns deemed too dangerous for even them to traverse, every thought that passed through Bruce’s mind felt blurry with indecipherable static. The memories of visiting a horribly ill baby flashed in his mind unfaded. The weight of Jason’s limp body strained his arms.

Even the security breach alert couldn’t break through the ringing in Bruce’s ears. Unable to stand by when his son was out there and in danger, Bruce cursed at himself for only being able to check the source of the breach. There was no damage done to force an entry and no technical tampering. The alert had only sounded off to a select group instead of alarming every hero in the Watchtower since it had to be done alongside someone who had authorization to enter.

While Flash was down, Superman would do a full sweep of the Watchtower to search for anyone who shouldn’t be in here and handle this as quietly as possible. Bruce went to the large computer on the side of the meeting room and checked which room was the last to be accessed. The intruders had come in from the Zeta Tubes, and a short moment later, the Medbay had been accessed. For obvious reasons, the Medbay was placed in a spot for easy access from the main entry point to the satellite.

Thinking of the Medbay pulled at the image of the still baby with green veins. Bruce could hear the rhythmic beeping of the machines that had been in that room. They had buried that baby, but Bruce may never be able to bury Danny. The other heroes in the room talked and discussed what to do, but Bruce couldn't make out any of it. He left for the Medbay in a run. 

Danny had authorized entry to the Watchtower. If Firebolt or the masked man had brought him back somehow, it would have alerted them in that exact manner. Bruce pushed open the automatic doors of the medbay when they took too long to open. There were curtain dividers between the beds that were pulled forward for privacy. It concealed anyone present that might be deeper in the room from Bruce. But the sound of hushed voices exposed that the room wasn’t empty.

Bruce pinched a precautionary Batarang between his fingers and walked across the room to the furthest bed where the voices were coming from, silent.

“Are we going to get in trouble?” a voice asked, female and young. It was familiar. If there was a response, Bruce couldn't hear it. "You're not just going to leave him here, right?” the girl asked.

“Shush,” a second voice. Male, adult, slightly muffled.

The few more steps that Bruce needed to reach the curtain that hid who the voices belonged to seemed like an insurmountable trek. It should be impossible for Bruce to find what he wanted on the other side of it. But with every moment, the illogical hope that he would find it grew: a girl and an older man just like the two that had been with his son when Bruce had last seen him. Bruce pushed himself forward.

“Batman,” the man he’d seen appear from a flurry of snow greeted him. He was taller than Bruce and just as wide.

“Batman?” the teen girl he’d been charged to retrieve asked, careening around the force between them to take a curious survey of Bruce.

Bruce’s eyes landed on the only thing that could soothe his heart. Danny was lying on the bed, and without the blanket pulled over him, Bruce could see that he at least seemed to be perfectly well. The cuts and injuries he had watched him receive were wholly gone, and even his jacket seemed to have been miraculously healed. Bruce watched Danny’s chest rise and fall rhythmically on the bed, unconscious but alive. 

Bruce should interrogate how Danny could have possibly healed from his injuries so quickly. It couldn’t have been by any natural means. But for that short moment, Bruce didn’t care how his son was okay, only that he was. And for that moment, Bruce felt all of his tension melt away. 

Watching him, “Your son will be fine with some rest,” the masked man said, gesturing to the bed. 

"You're certain?” Bruce asked. If Danny decides to trust his daughter’s safety with the man, Bruce should offer him a semblance of good faith.

“Yes,” the man nodded, confident and relieved that Bruce had believed him. “I would recommend a visit to Frostbite soon," he added after a moment.

“The yeti doctor.” Bruce recalled to show he was somewhat aware.

“You know him,” the man nodded, not questioning further.

“The healing process. Will it have any repercussions?”

“No. It was a product of his own doing.”

“He has healing powers?”

“No. That is not the only way,” the man made it clear with his tone that this was not a matter he would discuss in length, and Bruce decided he could settle for the information he had for now. 

“Dad has a Yeti doctor? Yetis are real,” Alaura asked the man, drawing Bruce’s attention to her. If it weren’t for the hint of her name, it would have been difficult to figure out who Alaura’s mother was. The powers she displayed were not any that were exclusive to Kryptonians until the lasers spouted from her eyes, and since Danny had powers, it wasn’t difficult to think his children would, too. She looked almost identical to Danny. 

The man dismissed the question. “We’ll be leaving now,” the man told Bruce.

“Wait, already?” Alaura objected before Bruce could respond. “Can’t we go visit the Bat Cave?” she asked, clinging to the man’s arm with pleading eyes.

“No,” the man said definitively.

“Please. When will we ever get to see it again?”

“You can go when you visit your grandparents.” So this man knew Batman was Bruce Wayne. 

“This is different. I bet it’ll be so retro.”

“No.”

“It’s not like they’ll remember this anyway.”

“Alaura,” the man scolded. 

“Why wouldn’t we remember?” Bruce needed to ask. 

Realization quickly befell Alaura’s face, and she turned to look from Bruce to the masked man. She made an apologetic face. “Is he going to remember that he doesn’t remember?”

“Stop talking.” 

“Sorry.” But the notion was short-lived. "Please, can we go? Just for like the shortest minutes ever. I won’t say anything I shouldn’t. Pinky promise.”

“I find that difficult to believe,” the man said, “Batman doesn’t allow strangers in the Cave.” 

“If he says yes, I can go.” Alaura decided.

This, the man considered. “Fine.”

Alaura shyly came forward and looked up at Bruce with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come and see the Cave. I promise I’ll be super well-behaved," the teen asked sweetly.

Bruce would need to take Danny to the Cave to have his vitals checked, even if he was supposedly healed. The Bat Cave had facilities comparable to the Medbay, so it wouldn’t be a loss of quality, and Bruce, in this circumstance, would much prefer to have Danny back on Earth as soon as possible. He could oversee her himself if he needed to. 

When Bruce didn’t answer for too long, the man, previously believing nothing, shook his head behind Alaura. "Please," Alaura pressed.

“Okay.”

“What!” the man balked, disbelieving in a way Bruce found very familiar.

"You're the best!” Alaura rushed forward to wrap her hands around Bruce in a hug.

“Are you serious?” the man balked at Bruce, with complaint heavy in his voice. The tone and attitude made it clear this was one of Bruce’s kids. Though it’s difficult to tell which one without any physical characteristics visible.  

Alaura stuck her tongue out at the man, who trudged behind them, deeply disappointed. Bruce picked Danny up carefully to carry him to the zeta tubes, finding comfort in Danny’s weight. “Three minutes," the man said to Alaura sternly. “That’s it.”

“Okay,” Alaura agreed pleasantly, skipping along.

“This is going to be a disaster,” the man grumbled, following Alaura onto the transport plate.

"Authorizing: 02 Batman. B-76: Daniel Wayne. B-32: Robin. Unknown—Override by 02 Batman,"  the Zeta Tube announced as they all arrived in the Batcave.

“Robin?” Alaura cooed but was easily distracted from that detail when she saw the crowd of teen heroes in the Cave. 

“Danny’s here!”

"Seriously?" the older Damian bit under his breath.

“Are they going to have their memory wiped too?” Alaura asked her uncle.

The mask did little to hide the scathing look he was surely leveling at his niece. “Obviously.” Fortunately for him, Bruce was the only one close enough to have heard her. 

“Is that the guy who showed up?” 

“Is Danny okay?”

“Whoa, is that Alaura?”

“How’d he manage to get all healed? Even his jacket is fine now.”

“Are you sure he’s okay?”

“Not that I’m not glad, but how did he get back?”

“How’d all of you get here?” 

Assuring them that Dany should be fine, Bruce took him to the cave’s Medbay. Knowing that, most of the teenagers were curious to interact with Alaura. Danny’s brothers and Talia were not keen to leave his side until they could confirm his condition for themselves.

“How is he?” present and younger Damian asked, pushing himself on his toes to get a look at Danny while he was still in Bruce’s arms. He hadn’t stirred amidst all the commotion despite being a light sleeper.

“I was told he was fully healed, but I’ll do a full scan to be sure.”

“And you think we can trust him?” Tim asked.

“Danny trusted him to get Alaura back. And he seemed to know quite a lot about us.” Bruce explained, laying Danny down on the bed gently.

“Makes sense if he’s future us,” Jason nodded, watching Bruce and Tim run the tests from a distance.

“He would be a good source to learn more about Plasmius,” Damian said, stepping out of Tim’s way. 

“You knew about Plasmius?” Jason asked, squinting.

“We know he exists. That’s about it," Tim explained. “We think he had to do with the vultures.”

“Hm.” Bruce would look more into that after he read the whole report himself. 

Talia stayed silent and listened to the conversation while she watched future Damian oversee Alaura’s interaction with Young Justice and Steph.

When the diagnostics were ready, Bruce was relieved to find that Danny did seem perfectly fine. “Let’s keep monitoring.”

Tim agreed with a nod. “I’m going to go see what’s up with those two,” he decided, gesturing to Alaura and elder Damian. 

“He intends to have our memories whipped," Bruce told them.

“What?” Jason immediately disliked the idea.

“I don’t know how he plans to accomplish that, but I’ve already asked Oracle to create a physical drive from the cowl’s footage.”

“I’m going to see if I can chat anything out of him,” Jason said, walking away with Tim and Damian in tow.

Bruce decided to watch the interaction from a distance next to Talia. Jason didn’t interject in what seemed to be a pleasant conversation Cassie and Steph were having with Alaura, and gestured for the future man to be away from being overheard. He obliged while still keeping  Alaura in his line of sight. “So what’s with the memory whipping thing? We’re not good enough for the truth or something?”

“It’s a precautionary measure. You’ll remember any vital information,” future Damian said stoically, keeping any familiarity out of his voice.

“And what makes you the judge of that?” Tim prodded.

“I’m not.”

“The who is?”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Seems real fucking relevant to me.”

Both Damians stayed silent.

“There’s no use interrogating him if he’s one of us from the future,” Tim realized the same thing Bruce had earlier. “What information exactly are you planning to wipe?”

“Anything that you could not have learned yourself in this time.”

“He’s talking in fucking riddles. I’d never stoop that low,” Jason decided.

“How was that a riddle?” Tim frowned, ready to argue with Jason when he realized another thing. “The zeta tube said Robin was here.”

“But the pipsqueak is already here.” Jason came to the realization at the same time as Tim, both of them turning to look at the youngest brother with shock. Their eyes trailed to the larger variant and then to each other.

“I have no idea who he could be,” Tim told Jason.

“He could be anyone,” Jason nodded. 

Future Damian scoffed at the show, while his younger counterpart rolled his eyes at his elder brothers. 

“Can you make sure we forget the part where we didn’t figure out who you were?” Tim asked.

“I’ll pull some strings,” Future Damian joked dryly.

Alaura wandered over to them when she saw they were talking. “Your costumes are so retro,” she commented. 

Wounded, “Retro?” 

"What's that for?” Alaura pointed at Jason’s holster. 

“It’s a gun," Jason said simply.

“Does it shoot lasers?”

“No.”

“Fireballs?”

“...No. Do you guys have that?"

"Definitely not.” Alaura said with a strained voice. “So what does it shoot?”

“Bullets.”

“That’s lame. Is that dinosaur taxidermied?"

Tim answered this time, “No, it’s a mech.”

"Who do you use it against?”

“No one. It just sits there.”

“Oh.” Alaura looked around. “So this is just like it then? Do you know about the Nest yet?” 

“Alaura,” Older Damian hissed. Bruce noticed Tim’s surprised face at that and decided he would have to ask him about that specification later.

Alaura ignored him when she saw the present’s Damian. “Aw, you're so cute!” she cooed, making the other kids snicker at the genuine comment.

“I am not cute.” 

“It’s time to leave,” older Damian decided.

“Wait, can I go look over there?" She pointed at the training area a short distance away. “It’ll only be like super fast.” Alaura rushed off before Damian could agree. Most of the crowd was much more intrigued with her than the stony behavior of older Damian, and left to point out small details for her to notice. Bart, Bruce noticed was zooming around again, though he had also lost his super speed like Barry momentarily. He'll make sure to check in with the older Flash tomorrow.

Older Damian only sighed and stayed in his spot. Ironically, it was his younger variant who stayed with him. “She seems really dense,” the younger one commented with a frown.

The older man only huffed a laugh in agreement.

“I suppose you're not allowed to speak of anything from the future,” the boy noted, having already heard the conversation Jason and Tim had.

“No.” The silence stretched until he spoke in a quiet voice. Bruce had to strain himself to hear. “I will warn you about one thing.” The boy leaned in curiously despite himself. “You are about to experience the worst year of your life,” he said simply and walked off to find Alaura, and this time took no excuses to delay her return home.

ALMOST THE FUTURE

Alaura watched Uncle Damian set the watch to send them home and tried to commit the method to memory. Between visiting Nocturn and Technus about wiping the memories and technology of everything they knew about Alaura, Uncle Damian had explained that every portal opened needed to be closed. So, since Alaura had arrived by the watch, she needed to go home with the watch, or else the portal would still somehow stay open and cause major problems in the time-space continuum. 

So Alaura had expected the portal to “close” and take them home, but the next place they appeared wasn’t a place Alaura had ever seen. And in the room with Alaura and Uncle Damian was a floating baby with a huge staff.

“Clockwork. Everything should be settled—”

“It is not you whom I would like to speak with, Fright Knight.” The floating baby came to in front of Alaura and turned into an elderly man with a beard long enough to drag on the floor between them. “I wondered if the girl had learned her lesson yet."

"You're the one who sent me through time!” Alaura realized, remembering what Dad had told her. 

“That is correct," the old man said. “So tell me, what did you learn, child?”

“Um.” Alaura recalled everything she had been through. What was the thesis of that whole ordeal? “Does it have to do with the Plasmius guy? He wanted to kill Dad.”

“Hm?” The man drawled, a smile growing on his face. “That wouldn’t be it. But I see it has been learned in your heart, so I shall let you return this time. In your future, I might not be so lenient.” A middle-aged man with the same features and a clean-shaven face said.

Before Alaura could ask what he meant, she was back in her dusty attic. 

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