Artisan's POV
I could hear the panic bleeding from the walls of the facility before I reached the office building's door. The LA chapter of my governmental Task Force operated from the top five floors and was supposed to remain secret until I decided otherwise.
Imagine my surprise when one of my Enforcers—the counters I'd created and was carefully nurturing to neutralize the harder-hitting members of the Justice League—flew from the roof of the building to an intersection Downtown and started a fight with Julius Spencer.
Sybil appeared just before I entered the lobby with a teleporter at her side. She raised a hand to attack before she stopped herself.
"Master?"
"You look like you've seen a ghost," I said.
"Forgive me. I have never seen you wear the skin of a man before…I almost didn't recognize you."
"A necessary precaution to conceal my identity completely," I lied.
"Of course…"
I could hear the doubt in her voice; even though Sybil concealed her intent better than most, there was very little you could hide from the eyes of a Kryptonian. I suppose I couldn't blame her for her concern. After all, I was wearing my dead face.
Sato had been such a weak boy. I would've rather been burned to the bone by the bounty hunter's weapon than be trapped in his skin again, but my technique hadn't given me a choice. Idle Transfiguration was gone for as long as my soul remained incomplete, so was Shrine, and more than half of my Curse Energy.
I would just have to make do until the other half of me returned, if it did at all, and stop my empire from crumbling before it could even rise.
"Whose bright idea was it to release the Enforcer without my authorization?" I demanded.
"Mine." Sybil swallowed, and I stopped walking.
"You were missing," she stammered out. "The Light had gone underground, and the Justice League were still off-limits as per your instructions. Julius was alone and isolated," she answered. "I thought that—"
"You thought, Sybil?" I hissed, stalking up to her. "You didn't think. Because if you did, you'd know that you just burned this location. You'd also realize that the Enforcers weren't ready to take care of somebody as careful and methodical as Julius."
I grabbed her by the shoulder. It took a considerable amount of self-control not to squeeze. "You would've realized that you just volunteered valuable information about our operation. Information any of our enemies can use to attack us."
Sybil shook like a leaf. "Attack us, Master? We have 20 metas in the facility, 5 Enforcers, and a Special Grade. Who would dare attack us?"
I let her go, and she stumbled back.
"I did not build all that I have by being careless or suffering fools, Sybil. Radio in a full suite of Teleporters. Evac protocol Alpha. Send it all to Chicago."
Sybil just stood there, staring at me, confused. Before my frustration got the better of me, I turned to the Teleporter.
"Go," I ordered, and he did, blinking away.
"Master...what happened at Savage's Estate?" Sybil asked slowly. "Your presence is...fainter."
I rose into the air. "Secure all of the Enforcers and keep an open channel. I'll keep guard from the skies."
I've worked too long and too hard to let it all fall apart now.
Sybil clearly had more to say, but she didn't push her luck and did as instructed. She shot into the sky, flying past me and landing on the helipad, which opened up to let her into the base.
I might've stressed my concern for anonymity and security to Sybil, but it was hardly the full extent of our problems. We were operating with finite resources now. Clones, Sorcerers, Metas, and Enforcers I cannot effectively control without Idle Transfiguration.
And then, there are the experiments. I was on the cusp of creating First Grade Cursed Spirits. I'd been trucking in people who've had nightmares about the same entities. The Hag, the Slasher, the Body Snatcher, and the Boogeyman.
My psychics situated in Appalachia have been inducing visions, maddening dreams, and hallucinations in the people we've collected—anything to hasten a manifestation, and they expected to see results as soon as Sunday.
Without my guidance and corrections, there was no telling how the spirits would manifest, what techniques they'd have, and just how potent they might be. Containment without substantial damage might prove difficult with my limited suite of abilities.
However, what concerned me the most was Vandal Savage and the other members of the Light. Our little war was far from over. They were coming. It was just a matter of time. The question was how I would face them, the Justice League, and the growing number of Ex-Sorcerers likely allied with Julius Spencer.
Julius POV
My fingers felt numb, and my stomach twisted as we pushed into the back of the noodle shop Constantine had arranged for us to meet the representatives from the League. We walked past curious watchers, who spoke in Mandarin. A young one pointed.
"Siblings," Gina explained. "They think we're related."
George scoffed.
"It's the white hair," I reasoned.
Constantine laughed. "They can probably smell all of the anger and animosity flowing off you."
He scooted past a frying station; somebody was making something absolutely scrumptious on the wok. Nathan's stomach grumbled.
"You think we can get an order?" he asked Gina, and George gave him a flat look.
"We are about to meet the Justice League, and all you think about is food?"
"We are in a kitchen. And It's been a long day," Nathan grumbled that last bit.
And it was about to get even longer.
The Justice League didn't like me before I started chopping people into tiny pieces. Now, I'd gone and partied up with Ex-Artisan soldiers, wiped out a town and its inhabitants, and engaged in a fight in Downtown LA that claimed lives, despite my best efforts.
"Look alive, kids," Constantine said. "And let me do most of the talking, will ya?"
No one answered. Constantine pushed through the door of the mostly-empty dining area. Only Batman and Wonder Woman remained there, seated at a large table with enough space for the whole gang.
"Batman, Wonder Woman, glad you could make it," he said, nodding, and then waved at us. "You've met everyone. Well, except old Nathan here. Bit of a hanger-on. But he's solid."
"It's quite a mess you've made since the last time we talked," Wonder Woman said, looking particularly at me. Her eyes were hard and resolute.
"Well, you were busy, and the lunatic who led the cult was a lot tougher than expected, or so they tell me."
"And the child you were trying to rescue?" Batman asked. "Daughter of an extra-dimensional demon god, I believe you said?"
"Tucked away safe with a friend," Constantine said, settling into a chair. It was the closest to Batman. "Now, can we stop staring at each other and get on with it?"
"If only we could," I said with a sigh, sticking my hands into my jacket pockets. I had no intention of feigning civility.
George was responsible for the death and eventual transformation of Zatara into Dr. Fate, and Canary died at Priya's hand. She was an indirect associate now.
While I hadn't specifically hurt Batman or Wonder Woman in any way, and vice versa, our last partnership hadn't exactly ended under the best circumstances. We tried to betray each other.
And I was sure we were going to try to do it again. Everybody sitting in this room was.
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