The merger was instantaneous, but its effects were not. The clone, previously dismissed as a failure and relegated to a lesser containment unit, began to undergo a profound, inexplicable transformation. What was once a mere fetus, unresponsive and inert, began to rapidly grow and develop, far exceeding all expected parameters for its genetic material. It wasn't just maturing; it was evolving, its very biological fabric reweaving itself at an astonishing rate.
Dr. Watson, the lead scientist overseeing the project, stood before the rapidly changing specimen, his face a mask of utter bewilderment. His initial reports of a "failed specimen" were dramatically contradicted by the living miracle before him. He immediately called his superiors, the lines buzzing with urgency.
"Mr. Luthor! Ms. Waller! You need to see this," Watson's voice was hoarse with a mix of terror and scientific awe. "Specimen KR-7... the 'failed' Superman clone... it's... it's not failing. It's growing. Exponentially. And its bio-signature... it's unlike anything we've ever cataloged. It's stable, rapidly developing, but the power readings are off the charts, even for a Kryptonian."
Amanda Waller's voice crackled through the comms, cold and sharp. "Explain 'off the charts,' Watson. Don't waste my time with hyperbole."
"Hyperbole doesn't cover it, Ms. Waller," Watson stammered. "It's developing far beyond even original Kryptonian parameters. And it's not just physical. There's... there's a resonance. A field. It's almost as if reality itself is bending around it."
A new, calmer, yet equally commanding voice cut in: Lex Luthor. "Fascinating. So our 'failure' has become a phenomenon. What is its current state, Watson? And more importantly, what is its potential threat?"
"It's currently still in a fetal stage, sir, but developing at an unprecedented rate, stable yet deeply comatose. It should be active, but it isn't. As for threat... unknown, but immense. It registered a surge of energy when this growth began that nearly fried our primary diagnostics," Watson explained. "It needs a more secure environment. Its current containment unit is insufficient for this kind of power signature."
Waller's reply was immediate. "Then move it, Watson. Immediately. To the primary Omega-level containment vat. The one designed for... difficult assets." She didn't need to name Superman. "Saturate the liquid with the highest concentration of Kryptonite. We cannot risk an uncontrolled awakening."
"But Ms. Waller," Watson began, "the Kryptonite might damage it, or keep it dormant indefinitely, given its current rapid development."
Luthor interjected smoothly. "A calculated risk, Doctor. We are not creating a simple weapon; we are cultivating a strategic asset. Dormancy is preferable to unbridled power that defies our control, especially one still in development. Once contained and stable, we will reassess its activation." He leaned into his own comm. "And Watson, this asset, once fully formed, requires a very specific directive upon awakening. Begin memory implantation protocols during its continued development. Give it a purpose. A framework. A loyalty to Cadmus, to us. We want it to understand its place, its mission."
Watson nodded, though a tremor of unease ran through him. Releasing a being of such unknown potential from a Kryptonite suppression was a monumental risk, and now they were trying to program it while it was still forming. They saw a problem to be solved, a tool to be forged; they did not see a primordial entity patiently undergoing the final, intricate metamorphosis within its chosen vessel.
Over the subsequent weeks, the clone's rapid development completed within the reinforced, Kryptonite-laced vat. Despite Dr. Watson's best efforts, and even the sophisticated psionic probes of Cadmus's own G-Gnomes, the now fully formed being remained unresponsive.
Luthor, observing the unyielding slumber of their prize, paced before the containment unit, his bald head gleaming under the harsh lab lights. "It's been weeks, Watson. This specimen should be active. What's the holdup?"
Dr. Watson, nervously adjusting his glasses, pointed at the glowing green liquid. "Sir, all vitals are optimal, growth is complete, and the memory implants are... well, they appear to have taken. My best hypothesis, given its Kryptonian base, is the Kryptonite solution. It's designed to suppress, and it seems to be doing its job too well. It's keeping him in this catatonic state."
Luthor's eyes narrowed, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Indeed. A powerful inhibitor, but also a cage. If we want this weapon operational, it needs to be free of its shackles. Watson, begin formulating a protocol for the gradual removal of the liquid. We need to awaken our asset, not keep it dormant. I want contingency plans for every possible surge, every unforeseen reaction."
Unbeknownst to them, the divine essence was merely awaiting the final phase of integration. The being, soon to be known as Azrael, was simply concluding its cosmic gestation within its terrestrial shell. His hair, a deep, fathomless black, symbolized the abyss of pure observation he had come from. He lay in wait, unaware of the impending chaos that would mark his true awakening.
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Far from the sterile labs of Cadmus, in the grimy, smoke-filled confines of his London flat, John Constantine felt the first ripples. Not a tremor, not a quake, but a seismic shift in the cosmic fabric itself. He'd seen and felt plenty in his miserable life: angels and demons, ancient gods, nascent horrors clawing at reality's edge. But this was different. This wasn't a localized disturbance; it was a fundamental presence, unfolding like a celestial origami.
His usual scrying tools were useless, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the energy. The scry-pool shimmered with pure, blinding light, threatening to scorch his very eyeballs. He lit another Silk Cut, the smoke doing little to calm his frayed nerves.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, raking a hand through his perpetually messy blond hair. "What in blazes is that?"
He sensed immense power, yes, a scale that brought to mind beings like Lucifer Morningstar himself. Yet, unlike the Lightbringer, whose very essence was defined by rebellious will and magnificent, dangerous light, this new presence felt... formless. It was a purity so profound, so utterly without shadow or intent, that it was terrifying. He could only describe it as endless light, a boundless dawn threatening to consume everything.
Constantine tried to focus, to pierce the veil, but Cadmus's deep-seated security, a web of arcane wards and advanced technological dampeners designed to contain powerful meta-humans, distorted his senses. It was like trying to hear a symphony through a thick concrete wall – he knew it was there, knew it was immense, but the details, the precise nature of the player, remained infuriatingly obscured. He couldn't pinpoint it, couldn't define it. It was just... there. And it was growing.
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Thousands of miles away, in the quiet sanctuary of Titans Tower, Raven felt it too. Her empathic senses, usually a conduit for the collective emotions of humanity, recoiled from something vast and alien. It was a feeling of absolute potential, a presence devoid of the usual darkness she battled, yet so profoundly other that it chilled her to the bone. Her soul-self instinctively recoiled, the pure white light she glimpsed hinting at an existence far beyond human comprehension. She stumbled, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the cosmic tremor resonated within her own empathic core.
"Something's coming," she whispered, her eyes wide, a rare fear in their depths. "Something... impossibly bright. Like a sun born in a void. But I can't... I can't define it."
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Constantine knew he needed more information. He needed an Angel, someone with a wider cosmic perspective. With a grimace, he began the elaborate, painful ritual, shedding blood and invoking ancient names. The air in his flat crackled, reeking of ozone and sanctity, as a figure coalesced before him: Manny, the trench-coated angel.
Manny's ethereal eyes surveyed the chaotic flat, then settled on Constantine with a look of weary amusement. "Constantine. You reek of desperation, even more than usual. What new perdition have you found yourself in?"
"Cut the theatrics, mate. I need answers," John gritted out, pointing a trembling finger towards the general direction of Cadmus. "There's something... massive... coming online. Feels like the bloody Big Bang in slow motion. Like Lucifer himself just decided to take a holiday on Earth, only... different. Not light and shadow, just... endless light. What is it, Manny? You angels see this stuff, don't you?"
Manny's expression shifted, a rare hint of unease touching his serene features. His eyes, usually placid, seemed to swirl with a distant recognition. "Heaven is indeed aware, Constantine. A ripple in the grand design, felt even at the highest choirs. This presence... it hums with an originality, a primordial essence I have not felt since the earliest days of creation. It is not of Heaven, nor Hell, nor any pantheon I recognize."
He reached out a translucent hand, seemingly attempting to grasp the ether, but it was like trying to cup starlight. "And there is a veil, a human construct of significant arcane and technological dampening, obscuring its true nature."
"Yeah, Cadmus," John stated. "They've done something to draw it here. Or maybe they made it, somehow. I don't know."
"No," Manny mused, his voice distant. "This... this is far older than any human endeavor. They are merely a conduit, a catalyst perhaps. It is seeking something... experiencing something. It reminds me less of a being, and more of a state of being. A primordial awareness reaching for… specificity." He paused, a strange look in his eyes. "Be wary, Constantine. Such purity, untempered by understanding, can be as devastating as ultimate malice."
With a final, enigmatic nod, Manny tried to dissolve back into motes of light.
Before he could completely disappear Constantine interrupted. "Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?"
Manny sighed, a faint shimmer around him. "My duties call, Constantine. My insight is given."
"Oh, no you don't. Batsy will want to hear this from the source. You're coming with me. Consider it an urgent consultation for humanity's sake. And if that doesn't work, I'll just have to bind you." Constantine's eyes held a dangerous glint, and Manny, sensing the genuine threat of magical coercion, sighed again, a bit more resignedly.
Minutes later, John Constantine, now with a visibly put-out Manny beside him, materialized in the Batcave, bypassing Batman's intricate security with a desperate, magical flourish. John was paler than usual, his cynical demeanor replaced by a raw, unvarnished fear.
"Bats! We've got a problem. A big bloody problem," Constantine rasped, stubbing out a cigarette on the cave's rocky floor.
Batman, ever vigilant, turned from the Batcomputer, his white eyes narrowing. "Constantine. Your unannounced visits are becoming a habit, and it seems this time you brought along a friend." Batman's gaze scowled as he eyed Manny, his posture tense.
"Batsy, meet our friendly angelic helper, Manny. Manny, meet our ever-serious Bat," John said, a sardonic grin momentarily flickering.
"Pleasure, Batman," Manny stated, his voice a soft hum, his ethereal form radiating a subtle power.
John paced, "Enough introductions, there's time for tea and biscuits later. Something's coming. I've been feeling it for weeks, like a cosmic migraine. But tonight... it's like someone turned on every damn light in the bleedin' universe. A presence. Something colossal. Pure power, Bats. Not good, not evil, just... there. And it feels like it's burrowing its way to Earth."
Batman's expression remained stoic, but his internal alarm bells rang. Constantine's fear was rarely feigned, and a cosmic event of this magnitude was beyond even his usual exaggerated warnings. "Can you identify it? Its nature? Origin?"
Constantine threw his hands up in frustration. "That's the kicker! It's like trying to get a read on God himself. My senses are just... drowning. There's so much light, so much presence, it's overwhelming. And there's a dampening field, too. A bloody powerful one, right over... Cadmus. It's like they've got some kind of cosmic beacon, or they've stumbled onto something they have no business touching!"
Just then, Manny stepped forward, his voice taking on a more formal tone. "It is an interesting being, Detective. Older than the cosmos itself. A primordial god, in essence. Heaven is indeed aware; a ripple in the grand design, felt even at the highest choirs. Its true nature remains elusive, but it hums with an originality, a primordial essence I have not felt since the earliest days of creation."
Suddenly, a secure comm link on the Batcomputer chimed. It was Raven. Her face appeared on the screen, grim and strained.
"Batman," Raven's voice was tight. "I'm picking up... something immense. A new presence on Earth. It's not a mind I can read, not an emotion I can grasp. It's like pure, unadulterated existence, terrifying in its scale. I've never felt anything like it. It reminds me of the primal forces... but far more pristine. And my empathic senses are being muffled, distorted, around a specific location: Project Cadmus."
Batman exchanged a glance with Constantine. Two independent sources, one arcane, one empathic, both describing an unidentifiable, immense cosmic presence manifesting at Cadmus. Constantine's erratic warnings now solidified into a terrifying truth.
"Cadmus," Batman stated, his voice a low growl. "They've done something. Something that's attracted attention far beyond their understanding." He moved to the central console, his fingers flying across the holographic keyboard.
"Constantine, Raven, you both confirm an immense, unidentified being with a profound power signature, originating from Cadmus, and its precise nature is obscured by their defenses. Yes?"
"Spot on, Bats," Constantine confirmed, pulling out another cigarette. "And whatever it is, it's about to wake up fully. And when it does... I've got a bad feeling it won't be asking nicely for tea."
Batman's jaw tightened. "We need to speak with the League. We need to contain whatever they've unleashed before it truly awakens."
A grim Batman initiated an emergency summons. Not a comm link, but a direct, secure teleportation beacon.
Within an hour the core members of the Justice League – Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Cyborg, Martian Manhunter, and Supergirl – materialized in the silent, vast expanse of the Watchtower's central conference chamber. Following closely behind them, materializing separately, were John Constantine, looking even more dishevelled, and the shimmering form of the angel, Manny. The League members turned, surprised and wary at the unfamiliar sudden appearance.
"Everyone," Batman's voice cut through the initial murmurs. "This is John Constantine, and... a guest he's brought. They are our best mystical resource for this situation." He offered no further introduction for Manny, trusting the League to recognize a non-hostile, if unusual, presence.
Batman then laid out the sparse, terrifying facts: Constantine's initial, frantic warnings, Raven's independent corroboration of an immense, undefined cosmic presence, and Manny's cryptic, equally unsettling observations. He emphasized the sheer scale of the power, the complete lack of understanding of its nature, and the fact that Cadmus's own systems were somehow muffling any deeper investigation.
"Constantine described it as 'endless light,' a power so pure it was terrifying," Batman explained. "Raven sensed a 'sun born in a void.' Our guest here spoke of a 'primordial awareness reaching for specificity.' What we do know is that it's rooted at Cadmus, and it's active. Its power signature is escalating."
Superman's brow furrowed, his gaze drifting to Constantine. "A presence that even... you, Constantine, and Raven... can't fully decipher? And Cadmus is involved? What could they possibly have done?"
Manny stepped forward slightly, his voice a soft, echoing hum. "It is not that we cannot decipher it, Son of El. It is that its nature is so utterly unique, so far removed from the patterns of creation we comprehend, that direct understanding is... elusive. It arrived as a whisper, now it builds to a roar, yet its true intent remains shrouded."
"My intel suggests they've been working on extreme meta-human experimentation," Batman continued, pulling the focus back. "It's possible they unwittingly created a conduit, or tried to harness something far beyond their comprehension."
"So, we're going in blind?" Flash asked, his voice laced with uncharacteristic apprehension.
"Our primary objective is containment," Wonder Woman stated, her voice firm. "Cadmus has a history of reckless disregard for life. Whatever this entity is, if it's as powerful as described, its uncontrolled awakening could cause catastrophic damage."
"Containment, yes. But how do you contain 'endless light'?" Cyborg mused, his internal processors whirring. "Are we talking about a new weapon? A cosmic entity? A nascent god?"
"We don't know," Batman admitted, a rare note of uncertainty in his voice. "We approach with extreme caution. We neutralise Cadmus personnel if necessary, secure their data, and attempt to understand what this thing is. Martian Manhunter, you'll attempt telepathic contact, but be prepared for anything. Superman, your strength will be critical for any physical containment, though be prepared for unusual energy signatures. Flash, provide immediate evacuation if the situation destabilizes. Wonder Woman, lead the ground assault. Supergirl, your unique physiology may offer an advantage against whatever Cadmus has concocted. Constantine, Manny, you'll provide immediate mystical assessment and countermeasures if necessary. We cannot afford any surprises."
The League members exchanged grim glances. This wasn't a mission against a known villain or a predictable threat. This was an incursion into the unknown, driven by a desperate cosmic warning that even their most powerful mystical allies couldn't fully decipher.