The Watchtower hummed like a living machine.
Elias sat alone in a white circular room near the central corridor, swinging his legs off the edge of a sleek metallic bed. He'd been dropped off here by two silent Watchtower drones that left him with no explanation, no instructions, and no idea what the Justice League was currently deciding about him.
He wasn't allowed in the meeting room.Bruce made that very clear.
"You'll wait here," Batman said, voice clipped.Then the door slid shut and locked from the outside.
So here he was.
A kid in space.In a room that probably cost more than an entire city block.Waiting for the most powerful people on the planet to decide his fate.
Which was… great.Comforting.Not stressful at all.
His internal monologue hissed:
Okay Elias, deep breaths. The League is deciding if you're a weapon or a liability or maybe a cosmic accident. Totally fine. No pressure.
He stared out the curved window. Earth glowed below like a fragile lantern drifting through velvet darkness.
What was he doing here?What was he becoming?
Time passed—minutes? Hours? Space-time was rude like that.
Then, finally:
The door slid open.
Elias nearly fell off the bed.
Standing in the doorway was Red Tornado.
Red Tornado did not walk.He entered—quiet, composed, as if floating through the air was optional rather than required. His eyes glowed a soft gold.
"Elias," Red Tornado said. "The Justice League has reached a decision."
Elias's stomach dropped.
He stood quickly, hands fidgeting. "Okay. Uh. What is it? Am I—? Do I stay? Do I go back to Arkham? Do I get launched into space? Because I—"
Red Tornado raised a hand.A perfectly calm, robotic gesture.
"No disciplinary action will be taken," Red Tornado said.
Elias's chest loosened a tiny bit.
Red Tornado continued, "You will not join the Justice League."
Elias deflated.
"Right," he muttered. "Of course. Why would I? They're legends. I'm a walking glitch."
"But," Red Tornado said, "you will be placed under League supervision for training and assessment. When the League deems you sufficiently stable, you will be inducted into the Young Justice program."
Elias blinked.
"…Wait. I'm going to be on Young Justice?"
"Yes," Red Tornado said. "After your training period."
His mind swirled.
Young Justice.Not the League, but… a place where he belonged? People his age? Training with teenagers who had powers and trauma and weirdness?
He could fit there.He wasn't sure how, but he could.
Red Tornado continued, stepping further into the room. "Until then, you will temporarily reside on the Watchtower. A training regimen has been prepared."
Elias swallowed. "What kind of… regimen?"
Red Tornado projected a holographic panel between them, blue light casting reflections on Elias's face.
TRAINING ASSIGNMENT — ELIAS
• HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT — BLACK CANARY• POWER GUIDANCE — MARTIAN MANHUNTER• TACTICAL ANALYSIS & STRATEGY — BATMAN• REFLEX CONDITIONING — THE FLASH• DURABILITY & CALIBRATION — SUPERMAN• DAILY MONITORING — RED TORNADO
Elias stared.
"Um. That's… That's all the scary people."
Red Tornado blinked. "The most qualified individuals were chosen."
"Superman is 'durability testing' me? Like—punching?"
"In a controlled manner."
"Batman is teaching me strategy—Batman?"
"Yes."
"That man breathes intimidation!"
"You may consider it part of the training."
Elias groaned. "I'm gonna die."
"You will not," Red Tornado said, completely serious. "Your probability of fatality is statistically low."
"…Low?"
"Acceptable," Red Tornado corrected.
This was not encouraging.
Red Tornado stepped aside. "Your first session begins in ninety minutes. You have time to rest, hydrate, and prepare."
Elias nodded numbly. "Right. Yep. I can prepare. I'll just… collapse emotionally. That counts as prep."
Red Tornado said nothing—possibly sympathy, possibly diagnostics—then exited.
The door slid shut.
Elias fell backward onto the bed.
Young Justice.Training.Living on the Watchtower.
He couldn't process it.
He stared at the Earth again.He felt very small.
Too small.
A thought slid into his mind uninvited:
I'm not strong enough for this. I can't keep up with them. Any of them. I'll fail. I'll panic. I'll break something. I'll break someone.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Stop thinking.Stop spiraling.Just breathe.
Then a new idea flickered into existence.
A dangerous idea.
A familiar whisper inside him, the kind that formed just before a rule:
What if you can fix this?What if you can help yourself?What if you can learn?Faster… stronger… smarter…
His heart thudded.
He sat up slowly.
He whispered cautiously:
"…If I can make my breathing steady… If I can make my hand warm… if I can block a telepath…"
A tremor ran through him.
"What if I can… learn?"
His voice shook.
"My learning speed… becomes fifty times faster."
The room seemed to inhale with him.
For one second—nothing.
Then the world lurched.
A violent spike of pressure slammed into his skull like a hammer made of lightning.His vision fractured—splitting into a dozen ghost images of the room.Thoughts exploded like fireworks behind his eyes, too fast, too loud, too bright—
He screamed.
His knees hit the floor.
Blood poured from his nose.A thin stream ran from the corner of his mouth.
His pulse thundered.His neurons felt like they were overheating.
Too much information.Too fast.Too intense.
Reality snapped in and out, flickering like a bad signal.
"—agh—stop—stop—STOP—"
But there was no stopping it.
He had spoken the rule.The rule obeyed.
He coughed violently—thick red drops splattering onto the metal floor.
His hands shook uncontrollably.
Then, slowly…The overload eased.
The pain throbbed instead of stabbed.The neurons calmed.The mental static faded into clarity.
He gasped, breath ragged.
His mind was still different—faster, sharper, processing everything at a speed that felt just barely manageable.
But his hands were still covered in blood.
He wiped them on his shirt, trembling.
"Okay," he whispered hoarsely."Okay… fifty times faster is… yeah… that's enough. Too much."
He staggered to his feet.
Every part of him hurt.
But his thoughts?They clicked into place with terrifying precision.
"Black Canary… here I come," he muttered weakly.
--------
The auxiliary gym in the Watchtower looked like someone had taken a dojo, a military training hall, and a spaceship interior and jammed them together with expensive lighting. Soft white panels lined the walls. Impact-resistant flooring stretched across the room. A holographic ring hummed faintly in standby mode.
Elias stood frozen at the entrance.
Black Canary was already there.
She stretched one leg over her head like physics owed her money, then dropped smoothly into a fighting stance, cracking her neck with the casual air of someone preparing to destroy a human being with kindness.
Her blonde hair glowed under the overhead lights. Her eyes were sharp. Focused. Calm.
She was terrifying.
She smiled warmly.
That did not help.
"Elias, right?" she asked. "Come on in. I don't bite."
Internal monologue immediately countered:She definitely bites. In a martial arts way. In a "your ribs will remember" way.
Elias stepped forward, legs trembling like he'd been assembled from anxiety and poor decisions.
Black Canary folded her arms lightly. "Batman briefed me. He says you panic easily."
"Wow. Great first impression."
"And you try your best."
"Oh. That's… nicer."
"But you're untrained."
"Okay, we're back to scary."
She laughed — genuinely — but it didn't reduce his fear. If anything, it made her more intimidating. Nice people punched harder.
"Don't worry," she said. "We're starting slow. Footwork, stance, breathing. Basic evaluation. No combat yet."
Elias nodded, but his stomach twisted.
He wasn't ready.
He wasn't coordinated.He wasn't stable.He wasn't—
—going to survive this without help.
His breath shook.His pulse thudded hard in his ears.
He whispered so quietly she couldn't hear:
"My learning speed… becomes five times faster."
The air around him rippled softly.
No violent jolt.No head-splitting pain.No blood.
Just a warm tightening behind his eyes—like gears clicking into alignment.
His thoughts sharpened.
Okay. Okay this feels… normal. This feels good. Maybe safe? Maybe this is fine. Maybe I'm not going to collapse like a dying laptop—
Black Canary clapped her hands once. "Alright. Let's see your natural stance. How do you think someone should stand in a fight?"
Elias blinked.
Then, before he could second-guess himself, he stepped into a basic guard stance.
Feet staggered.One hand forward.Shoulders relaxed.
It felt… intuitive. Almost easy.
Canary raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. Did you train before?"
"Nope," Elias said. "Pure terror."
She smirked. "Hold that."
She circled him slowly, eyes scanning every inch of his posture. Elias felt strangely stable. His balance didn't wobble. His weight distribution was clean. His mind processed micro-adjustments automatically.
Five times learning speed was working.
"Good foundation," she said. "Now footwork."
She demonstrated a simple slide-step.
He copied it.
Perfectly.
She blinked. "Okay. Again."
She did a pivot-step.
He mirrored it instantly.
Her expression tightened. Just a little.
"Quick learner, huh?" she said lightly.
Elias shrugged. "I… guess?"
She stepped back. "Fine. Let's test reflexes."
She flicked a jab toward his shoulder—light, fast, barely more than a tap.
He dodged.
Cleanly.
Even Elias froze.
Black Canary's brows rose. "Oh. Interesting."
She jabbed again.
He dodged again.
Not gracefully, more like a panicked squirrel, but he still moved.
"My reflex speed is also based on panic," Elias blurted. "I think."
Black Canary stared at him.
"…You might actually be perfect for this team."
He wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
Then she stepped closer. "Let's try something a little more advanced. I want to see how well you learn combinations."
She showed him a simple three-move strike pattern:
Jab.Cross.Rear kick.
She went slow.
He watched.
His brain absorbed each movement like they were puzzle pieces falling into place. His neurons didn't fight him — they leaned in. Inviting. Hungry.
Black Canary stepped back. "Your turn."
Elias inhaled.
Then he did it.
Jab.Cross.Rear kick.
It felt natural.
Too natural.
Black Canary's eyes widened slightly.
She didn't speak for several seconds.
Then she nodded slowly. "Elias… I don't say this lightly. You're learning at a rate I haven't seen outside of meta-enhanced trainees."
Elias smiled nervously. "Cool. So I'm not completely hopeless?"
She grinned. "Not at all. You might even be—"
He froze.
Pressure.
Sudden.
Sharp.
Like someone drove a hot needle behind his right eye.
Elias staggered.
The world tilted sideways.
Black Canary caught him before he hit the mat. "Hey—whoa. Easy. Elias? Talk to me."
His vision flickered.
His thoughts split and crashed into each other.
Then—
A hot wetness filled his mouth.
He coughed—
Blood splattered onto the floor.
Black Canary's calm expression vanished.
"RED TORNADO!" she shouted instantly.
Her voice echoed off the gym walls.
Elias choked again, wiping blood from his lips. More dripped from his nose, thick and dark.
His brain felt like it was overheating.Like too much information was flowing through a pipe too narrow to handle it.
Black Canary eased him to the ground. "Elias, focus on my voice. Hey—look at me. Look at me."
He blinked.Her face blurred.Then snapped back into focus.
The gym doors hissed open.Red Tornado entered in seconds, eyes burning brighter than usual.
"Medical emergency," he intoned. "Initiating scan."
A soft yellow light washed over Elias from head to toe.
Black Canary held his shoulders. "What happened? He was fine one second—"
Red Tornado's processors whirred. "Neural hyperactivity detected. Artificial cognitive acceleration. Strain at 247% above normal human threshold."
Black Canary stared. "In English?"
Red Tornado's head tilted.
"He overloaded his brain."
Elias coughed again — thinner blood this time, more saliva than red. His breathing shook.
Black Canary whispered, horrified, "Elias… what did you do?"
He swallowed hard.
His voice cracked.
"I… made a rule."
Red Tornado looked down at him. "What rule?"
Elias wiped his mouth with a shaking hand.
"Five times… faster learning…"
Black Canary's eyes widened. "You rewired your brain mid-training?! Elias, that's—"
Dangerous.Reckless.Potentially fatal.
She didn't finish the sentence.
Elias whispered, "I just… wanted to keep up."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Heartbreaking, even.
Black Canary squeezed his shoulder gently. "Kid… no one expects you to learn this stuff instantly. You're here to train. Not impress us."
Red Tornado projected a soft stabilizing field around Elias's head, reducing neural stress. "You must not use self-altering commands without supervision."
Elias nodded weakly. "I know. It just—happened."
Black Canary helped him sit upright. "You scared me. And trust me, not many kids manage that."
He tried to smile.It came out tired and wet.
Red Tornado stood, scanning his systems. "Neural overload decreasing. Blood loss minimal. Recovery expected."
Black Canary exhaled. "Training's done for today. You're resting."
Elias blinked up at her.
"But—"
"No 'but.'" Her tone softened. "Tomorrow we go slow. Because you have potential. Scary potential. But you're still human, Elias. You still bleed."
He looked down at his shaking hands.
Blood drying on his fingers.
Human.
Maybe too human.
Black Canary offered her hand to help him stand.
Elias took it.
As he rose, his power hummed in the air like it was listening.
Like it knew this was only the beginning.