To say that I was running on fumes by now was an understatement. It had been nearly twenty hours since I slept, and the exhaustion of fighting for your life settled into your bones once the adrenaline finally receded.
The funny thing was that I didn't even know if it was actually adrenaline that coursed through my body or if it was some other compound. I looked human enough - the younger you were as as Osmosian, the more likely you were to resemble a human. But if I ever felt like I had the time, doing some tests to see the differences internally might be a fun thing to ask someone to perform.
With consent. And not from a mad scientist - I didn't want anyone to perform any Cadmus on my damn body.
Regardless, despite the exhaustion, the excitement of using the interior of the Hall of Justice as a place to wait? An iconic location from the history of these characters surrounded me, and I was struck by how mundane everything was, even though I knew it was genuinely worthy of the reputation. This place had once been the lynchpin of the League's operations, one that the public believed was the face of the organization of Earth's greatest defenders. They didn't know about the Watchtower satellite high above their heads, and before yesterday, neither did the more experienced sidekicks.
A mundane library whose only genuinely fantastic attribution to that legacy was the likely incredibly powerful supercomputer that rested along the wall, complete with a monitor bigger than most living room walls and capable of displaying data screens more numerous and detailed than anything you could imagine. Given the secrecy of the League's true headquarters, I couldn't help but wonder how real the data on display was - what did they let us see as visitors versus what they let the true League itself see?
They'd shuffled us quickly to the Hall in the aftermath of the conflict so that they could handle the fallout themselves and the follow-up investigations. Something I hadn't heard Kid Flash tell them had stirred them to a frenzy, and I doubted they'd leave any inch of the place uncovered given the all points bulletin. The robotic Red Tornado had been left alone to watch over us while the rest investigated the interior.
"I do not like leaving this to them," I had said aloud. "We should be helping clean everything up."
The others had agreed with the sentiment, but it had been Aqualad who voiced the opposing opinion, head heavy in his hands while he hunched atop a couch, impatient. "We have pressed our luck too much already. Much of what we did was against their wishes, and-"
"Yeah? Well, maybe Speedy was right," Kid Flash had argued, the speedster who had yet to stop pacing. "We should have our own say in what's happening."
"I don't disagree with that," I had acknowledged, though I was less hostile to the idea of listening to their mentors than the others seemed to be. This whole mission arose out of a sense of betrayal, and even if they weren't quite as upset as Speedy had been, there was still a frustration over the secrets the adults in their lives kept from them, the lies they told them. "Still, I don't doubt they can clear the place themselves."
I wasn't sure where to place the reactions of the others, especially Troia and Superboy. This was the first time the girl had interacted with any of them, apart from me, and certainly the first time she'd intentionally thrown herself in harm's way on purpose. That nervousness was evident in her posture when the excitement finally wore off, and it had been difficult to get Kid Flash to stop pestering her for questions about her life before this point.
And Superboy was a blank slate, whose only real experience of freedom and agency had begun hours ago. Mostly, he was a ball of pent-up frustration that we rightly refused to poke. He needed some space and a friend to listen to, when he was ready, and I wondered how long that may take.
If I'd gotten the cold shoulder from either of my fathers, I doubted I'd have reacted much differently.
I would never forget the moment the League arrived on site, en masse, to handle the clean-up of the Cadmus debacle. Damn near every member descended from the sky like modern-day gods - some with the assistance of their own powers, some with the help of the two Green Lanterns on their payroll. It had been a wondrous sight, but it was marred rather quickly when Superman had refused to speak anything of worth to the clone.
That was something that... I'd have to investigate.
In lieu of other points, I had redirected the conversation.
"You told the Flash something that freaked him out," I had finally mentioned to the speedster. Earlier, during the initial moments and reporting of what had happened, the elder man's reaction had been one of shock. Maybe he had had a strong reaction to Superboy, but my gut told me it was something else.
The redhead had paused, glancing toward Superboy, and then cleared his throat. "Yeahhh. Before that G-Goblin caught me on my way out to get a warning to the League, I found something about a Project: Match in the files on that sublevel you mentioned, Rob."
The Boy Wonder, who had been lazily resting on the couch and maybe even had been in the middle of the kind of power-nap only someone who pulled all nighters in Gotham might need, had immediately tuned in to the speedster's words.
"When Dubbilex offered to help, came up with his plan, I asked him about Project: Match. The guy told me he'd explain in exchange-"
"You made an agreement with a villain?"
The redhead had glanced at the Amazonian's question and had shook his head. Troia's hands had been crossed in front of her, though her eyes had been intense. "He wasn't a villain. He was helping."
"At the time, you trusted he was telling the truth," she had asked again, more forcefully. "You trusted someone aligned with a group that debased my culture."
"Hey, that doesn't feel right," Robin had interceded, earning a deepened frown from arguably the strongest person in the room.
I had stepped in. "From what I understand, you were in an impossible situation. We all were. And this Dubbilex is as much a victim of Cadmus as, uh, Superboy."
The clone had cracked his knuckles in quiet frustration. "I am not a victim."
I... wasn't going to poke that bear.
"You do not have to be," Aqualad had said gently. "You can be more."
"I wasn't a victim at all," he had shouted back.
This time, the moment had held, and it had been Robin who had cleared his throat. "KF, can you continue?"
It had taken several moments for us to sidestep the outburst from the clone. These were conversations meant to be had when the moments were not fresh.
The speedster had diverted from Troia's piercing blue eyes. "Right. It - uh - he did tell me some things. Project: Match was another cloning project. One that was unstable, but maybe as dangerous as Superboy. I told the Flash where this Match was, how to get inside the chamber where that clone was hidden and on ice."
Another?
Superboy's reaction had been tense but uncertain.
"A clone of what?" Robin had asked.
"Dubbilex didn't know," Kid Flash explained. "He told me he learned of it through overhearing some of that Desmond guy's thoughts, but had never had the opportunity to investigate it himself. The G-Goblin was created after they stopped working on Match."
Hmm.
"Desmond was the researcher?" I had asked, head turned toward Superboy but not sure if he would give an answer.
"He was the lead," the boy had slowly explained, voice filled with an undercurrent of barely suppressed anger. "Amanda Spence was his second. Not sure where she is, but Desmond was the-"
"Monstrous human guy?" Robin had asked, earning a nod from the clone.
"And the other was Guardian," I had surmised. "Don't suppose both of them always had the power to turn into a monster?"
Aqualad had denied it. "Unless Guardian hid his abilities well, the man once patrolled a city like any of us. He never displayed such a transformation."
"Desmond did something to himself, I'm sure of it," Robin had explained. "I've been trying to study what files I got - gonna take days at best to scrounge through it all. Longer to try to recover any redacted information, if we even can. There was something there - an enhancement drug."
"So he pumped Guardian full of mind control happy thoughts and then made him take his vitamins?" Kid Flash had pondered.
"This organization? It is truly horrible."
I did not disagree with Troia's assessment. Genetic experiments, new organisms, drugs capable of turning someone into a being capable of tanking hits from a Kryptonian and dishing out solid damage in return?
"What are the odds the government's funding this?"
My question did not have an answer, but it did have everyone concerned that I may be onto something.
I had wondered, not for the first time since the word Cadmus appeared, how deeply this conspiracy went. And whether or not someone like Waller, Eiling, or others were connected. If it were, it bolstered terrible news for everyone involved.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 6:57 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
Troia settled onto the park bench. Early morning joggers passed a memorial to one of Man's World's conflicts and paid little attention to the girl, dressed in civilian clothes despite a few taped bandages mostly hidden beneath her clothing. Next to her, dressed as though she was about to take a day at the office, was her elder sister, sporting a tight bun and a pair of stylish sunglasses across her nose.
"What questions do you have?"
Troia considered launching into the dozens that filtered through her mind all at once, but she settled onto one to begin. "Why had you not done something about this before now? Our cultural customs mocked, with scientists embarking on the role of our gods in their names, in their stories."
The woman in the guise of Diana Prince drank from a thermos, before offering some of the coffee to the younger girl, who gladly took a sip.
"Man's World remembers the old ways, sometimes fondly and sometimes with dissent," Diana began carefully. "The cultural and religious syncretism is a heavy load to unravel, sister, and the modern day world is a mixture of many influences from other cultures. Does the organization that delivers packages bought online - and borrows our name - offend us merely for using it as an influence?"
"Why shouldn't it?" she asked. "You truly think the Queen would approve?"
Diana paused for a long moment and then chuckled. "No, I don't believe she would. Man's World both respects, reveres, and acknowledges our role in history. The number of references to the old ways increases and decreases each year. How, Troia, would you expect me to isolate which of these organizations does so to offend or does so innocently?"
"I don't know," the girl admitted, "but surely this one would have been one to suspect. Cadmus made new life, Diana. Why didn't you stop them? They're right under your nose, in the city you patrol."
The woman smiled slightly, gently. "That's the age old question, is it not? It has merit, sister, but it is a variation of one I have heard launched at myself and at my peers every day since I began using my abilities to intervene in Man's World.
"Why did you not save my brother from a car accident? Why did you let that train derail? Why is Cheetah still at large? Why didn't you impose a ceasefire in the Middle East?"
Troia studied a group of joggers who halted long enough to pull frisbees from their bag. She... smiled, slightly, at the miniature discus made of plastic that soared nearby and landed expertly in the target's hands.
"How do you deal with it?"
"When you figure it out, let me know."
Troia chuckled.
"More seriously, sister, this is the second instance of your following in my footsteps. This time, on purpose."
She met Diana's eyes uneasily. "Yes. I'm- I'm sorry, but I just-"
"You have no need to apologize. I made similar decisions in my youth - I was not much older than you when I joined the warfront in Man's World," the elder Amazon explained softly. "What you need to decide is if this is something you wish to pursue."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"You mean to let me choose?"
"Yes."
Troia hesitated.
WASHINGTON D.C.
JULY 5, 8:24 UTC -4
TEAM YEAR ZERO
John Stewart studied the teenager in the annals of the Hall of Justice's medical bays. A more private place than the public-fronting areas, it was empty this time of day after the insanity of the previous night.
A pale pink undertone to the skin that almost was natural. Dark bags under his eyes and ridges around them that deepened in the right light. Long fingers. Broad features. Well-built when compared to others around the same age who were human. He rested with a hunch to his weight, which could be a natural state as easily as it could be the way he carried a burden that he did not do well to hide.
A ring scan would be rather obvious - one of the downsides to the Power Ring was its lack of subtlety. He could confirm the differences rather easily with that, but he'd ask for permission first. John was wary of the alien's intentions but he'd proven on more than one occasion to have earned the benefit of the doubt.
Perhaps even trust.
"How are you feeling?"
Cassian blinked. "That's not what I expected you to ask. I thought you'd get to business."
John smirked. "Business is coming. Just wanted to check in with you."
"I'm fine. Crazy night."
The man rose an eyebrow. "An understatement if I've ever heard one."
The alien had merely shrugged.
"Listen, I've been off world. Jordan has been busy," he began, "and we should have checked in on you sooner."
Cassian said nothing for a moment. Then, "There's always something going on with you Leaguers."
John sensed the tension and remembered reading something about a similar interaction in Central City, of Cassian questioning the League's methods. "I escorted a ship of Incursean refugees through Gordanian space."
"On a scale of bad to bad, how bad is that?"
"Very bad."
For a moment, Cassian continued to say nothing before he just sighed. "All right, you get a pass."
"I'm happy to hear that," John said slowly.
"What's the League going to do with Superboy?"
The question was one he'd expected, and John settled into his seat just a bit more. "In the short term? Kid Flash has agreed to house him until accommodations are made. In the long term, close monitoring for any uncertain behavioral traits."
"Accommodations?"
John nodded once, knowing that he was mere days away from using his Power Ring to fix-up the rocks and other debris from the decommissioned Mount Justice.
"There is an idea," the Lantern began, "to bring together the sidekicks onto a covert team for the League. To be-"
"Like the Plumbers."
John hesitated and then nodded. "More or less. The League acts in the open, and we send this team on secret missions. The missions double as real-world experience to eventually do what we do, in the open."
Cassian's face was contemplative. "I like the idea. And you want me to join them."
John had heard the conversation for and against bringing the alien kid on board. It had not been without disagreements, and Hal and John personally considered the matter differently.
"The League believes it best to bring you into the fold," John said carefully. "You've done good work in the past, but I don't like a loose cannon."
The alien blushed slightly. "Oh. Well, I don't-"
"There're quite a few folks who think you need a punishment for nearly starting a nuclear war on that submarine," John stated simply, trying to not reveal where he judged the situation had landed. "And some in the League have reservations about your methods. It's not often that an alien immigrates to a planet like Earth, much less one in a situation like yourself."
Cassian raised a hand defensively. "In my defense, I - should have handled that sub differently, sure. There's always room for improvement."
John hesitated and then sighed, exasperated.
"As for why I'm here?" the boy leaned in. "You all are rather inspirational, from the stories I've heard. Following in your footsteps felt like a good use of the Gift."
"The Gift?"
Cassian touched the tabletop with his finger, his hand becoming like granite. "Your ring database doesn't know anything about Osmosians?"
John shook his head. "Space is vast, kid. Your planet is in Frontier Space, not regularly patrolled. Our records aren't perfect, and I'm no Honor Guard - I don't even have access to a percentage point of what they do."
That was the truth, John surmised. He'd heard reference to him as an Osmosian in the reports of Cassian's visit to Oa, but that report had been bare of many details and told the League next to nothing about the kid's ultimate intentions. As for the term itself, John had never heard of an Osmosian before that day, but there were plenty of sentient alien species in the universe he'd never encounter himself, ring database or no.
"Well, then let me tell you about us," Cassian offered.
John nodded, but held up a finger. "Before we get into story time, would you consent to a scan from my ring? It's standard operating procedure when a new form of life is encountered, to add to the records on Oa."
"What... kind of scans?"
"Mostly of a medical kind," he explained simply. "There are diagnostics that check for things about you that might be common with other species. Tests your capabilities."
Cassian hesitated for a long moment and then nodded. "How long does it take?"
"Initial testing is a few moments," John answered. "More detailed scanning should be done in a dedicated location with more equipment, like one of the-"
"Sector Houses?"
John smiled. "Yes. Of course."
At Cassian's consent, the Power Ring released a jet of soft green light that traced itself around the alien's body. Tests were performed at a fast pace, revealing information about the alien's overall body and health to be added to the records. Oa's databases were an important part of what made the Green Lantern Corps able to function. If these initial scans helped to aid the Corps in their endeavors when interacting with Cassian's species in the future, then John was glad to have begun the process.
"Anything revealed?"
John smiled as the light faded. "I'm sure there will be plenty to sift through, but that takes time and more dedicated equipment. Now - what can you tell me?"
Cassian settled further into his chair and began to speak.71