Some Time Later....
Gotham City, Wildcats Gym.
The first thing most people noticed when they stepped into Wildcat's Gym was the smell.
It hit the back of the throat and stayed there old leather, iron weights, sweat sunk deep into canvas, worn wood, disinfectant, and the faint iron scent of dried blood from busted lips and split noses. It was the smell of work.
People who came to this gym were training and testing themselves with the old school way of boxing.
The second thing they noticed was the noise.
Heavy bags thudding under practiced blows. Gloves cracking against focus mitts. Jump ropes slapping the floor in tight rhythm, Heavy weights hitting the floor . Men and women grunting through lifts. Sneakers squeaking across the floor and old mats.
The low buzz of conversation from people resting between rounds. Every sound stacked on top of the next until the whole gym carried a rough heartbeat of its own.
Wildcat's Gym sat in downtown Gotham, was a stubborn relic from a harder age, a brick-and-steel holdout that refused to be bullied out of existence. Whether it be from the test of time or Supervillain or gang violence. Wildcat's gym was like the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic, everyone knew not to mess with it.
The walls were lined with framed photographs of old fighters, newspaper clippings, championship posters, and scuffed signs about discipline and respect in and out of the ring.
Old-school boxing rings sat beneath the bright industrial lights. Free weights took up one corner. Heavy bags hung in long rows like waiting bodies. The whole place had the look of somewhere that had survived too much to care what anyone thought of it.
And today, like plenty of days before, a good part of the gym had found itself staring at one person. He stood at the far end by one of the Olympic-grade heavy bags, face half hidden.
Wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants. Black boxing gloves and a elevation mask. The hood cast his upper face in shadow, and the mask covered the lower half, turning his breathing into sharp filtered bursts. Sweat had soaked through the fabric across his back and chest. A dark puddle had already formed beneath his shoes and spread over the rubber flooring.
He had been hitting at the bag for a while now, his punches flowed nonstop.
Everyone thought he was destroying it.
Every punch landed with a violent, compact boom that echoed across the gym louder than any normal strikes. The bag snapped, swung, and shuddered under combinations that moved from textbook basics sequences into smoother, meaner sequences. Jab. Cross. Hook. Body shot. Slip. Pivot. Step back in. Elbow-tight defense. Sharp head movement. Then a sudden burst of more advanced work, shifted angles, feints, layered combinations, pressure built and released with brutal precision in every punch.
The man He never stopped moving.
Even when his hands weren't striking, his feet were still moving. Small adjustments. Tiny pivots. Continuous controlled motion. His shoulders rolled, hips turned, core tightened, and every ounce of motion served the next strike. He looked less like a man working a bag and more like a warrior fighting his demons, conditioning himself against something he hated.
People had started slowing down to watch awe.
A pair of amateur boxers at the next station had gone quiet five minutes ago. A woman near the free weights kept glancing over every few reps. One of Ted Grant's long-time regulars had flat-out stopped shadowboxing to stare.
No one interrupted him though and no one wanted to. There was something in the way he hit. He hit like he was on a mission.
Until finally a voice cut through the gym.
"That's enough, kid. It's been thirty minutes. Give the bag a break before I have to bury the damn thing."
The hooded figure stopped his final strike froze inches from the bag, glove hovering in the air with unnerving control. His chest rose and fell as sweat dripped to the mat. Then he stepped back, lowered his hands, and straightened.
A few people exhaled without realizing they'd been holding their breath.
He then peeled off the weighted gloves first, dropping them onto a nearby bench with a heavy thud. Next came the elevation mask. Then the hood.
Caius Dawn lifted his head into the lights. At nineteen, he looked like supermodel. He stood six-foot-three now, and a lean muscular physique. A powerful frame of well developed muscles that looked sculpted. His shoulders were broad. His waist was tight. His arms and legs were long, dense, and visibly trained. Not bodybuilder-thick, but functional.
His rich cocoa-brown skin glistened under the gym lights. His face had sharpened with age into something strikingly handsome, a strong jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones, and the kind of symmetry people noticed instantly. His amber eyes, he inherited from his mother, were clear and bright.
But his gaze cold and distant. And under that cold gaze of those beautiful eyes, if someone looked hard enough, there was a silent fury.
Ted Grant (Wildcat) stepped forward and planted his hands on his hips. Dressed in gym clothes, he physique better then most modern day athletes. Caius thought he looked like he could walk into a title fight with only ten minutes' notice.
Even older, Ted carried himself like a sturdy brick wall. He barely stood taller than Caius, but only barely at six feet- five inches. .
He jerked his chin toward the battered bag.
"Kid, you were murdering that thing. Might have to get Bats or the League to send me a new one at this rate."
Caius bent, picked up a towel, and wiped his face before answering.
"That would probably be a good idea. I'd rather not destroy your equipment. Again."
Ted gave him a long look. The boy had been coming here for years. Batman and Dinah asked him to keep a eye on the boy. He didn't know his whole story, but it didn't matter to him. Ted saw at fourteen year old boy that was alone angry and needed guidance, so he pointed him to the punching bag.
Now after all this time that boy is a man standing here now. He was taller, harder, and much too good at hiding how much he hurt.
Ted had seen grief before.
He'd seen it in young fighters who buried dead parents under training. Kids who were abandoned on the streets. Old veterans whose hands never unclenched right after war. Seen it in heroes and sidekicks who walked into his gym, needing a place to hit something without worrying about killing someone or because they weren't ready to talk yet.
Caius carried that same look but only worse.
Ted exhaled through his nose. "Drop the extra weight. Lose the weighted gloves and gear and put on regular gear. We'll finish with some light sparring."
Caius nodded once. "Yes, sir."
He took off the hoodie and the sweatpants.
That got a few more eyes on him.
Underneath he wore a fitted black athletic shirt and black shorts, but what really drew attention was the gear strapped over and around him. Weighted vest. Ankle weights. Wrist weights. Arm bands loaded with concealed mass. And around his neck sat a black metallic collar with a faint green light along the seams.
Caius unclipped the weights first.
One by one they each came off and dropped onto the mat with brutal, dense slams that made nearby people turn.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
Ted's eyebrow rose.
He bent to grab one of the arm weights and almost misjudged it. His hand tightened harder around the strap than he intended.
" These aren't the same seventy-five pounders from before?"
Caius shook his head.
"No. They're one hundred pounds each now."
Ted stared at him for half a second. The kids crazy, it's one thing if he did this at full power, but with the collar on. Is he crazy?
Ted looked at the collar next.
That thing made the whole picture even uglier.
Even with all the mystery and politics surrounding the kid, and the League. Batman's shouldn't have given that to the kid so easily, there are better ways. What were you thinking Bruce?
A few minutes later, both men stood inside the ring.
Ted wore headgear, mouthguard, gloves, and old-school trunks. Caius had swapped into standard sparring gloves and headgear, though the collar remained locked around his throat.
A handful of people drifted subtly closer.
Wildcat sparring one of Gotham's most closely watched young gym goers who most considered of the strongest and handsome, was not something most ignored.
Ted bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and raised his guard. "Light sparring means light, kid."
Caius lifted his hands. "Yes, sir. Make sure you remember that as well"
Ted chuckled. "You say that every time."
Then they moved.
Ted came forward first, testing Caius with a probing jab. Caius parried and shifted left, shoulders tucked, chin down. Then another jab. Then a right hand from Ted that Caius slipped just enough to let it graze. Ted stepped in close, trying to crowd him and force him into trading on the inside.
But Caius didn't bite, instead he defended first.
Which was his go to.
That had become one of the defining marks of his fighting style over the last five years. He had power. Speed. Reach. Better raw physical gifts than almost anyone Ted had ever trained. But Caius rarely went for a knockout in sparring. He studied. Guarded. And learned from the fight. He Let people reveal their rhythms. Then he looked for openings or created them.
Ted respected that. He also used his experience to punish it.
A left hook slammed into Caius's guard and still shoved him half a step sideways. Ted went low, touched the body, then snapped a jab upwards. Caius blocked two, rolled under the third, then shot a right hand at Ted's ribs that landed hard enough to make the older man grunt.
Ted answered with a short inside hook.
While Caius caught most of it on his glove, but the force still thudded through his headgear.
The ring ropes creaked as they circled each other.
Ted angled out while Caius cut him off. Ted feinted low, stepped to the side, and clipped him with a left. Caius defended against it, then reset, and came back behind a sharp jab-cross that made Ted tighten up. Then Caius saw something, a fraction of an opening, and ripped a counter hook toward Ted's head.
Ted moved just enough for the hook to miss his jaw. But it clipped his headgear hard enough to tear it loose and send it flying into the ropes.
The watchers reacted at once. Some even whistled.
Ted straightened slowly, bareheaded now, eyes wide in brief surprise before amusement crept in. "Well," he said, adjusting his stance and then lowering his gloves. "That's enough. Let's call it here kid."
Caius lowered his own hands immediately. "Yes, sir."
Ted rolled one shoulder and gave him a look. "Your timing's getting nastier."
Caius grinned. "Your body shots still suck old man."
Ted barked out a rough laugh. "Now I know you feel better."
They stripped off the gloves and headgear. Caius climbed out of the ring first, grabbed his towel and his duffel bag, and slung the strap over one shoulder. Ted stayed near the ropes a second longer, watching him.
The kids discipline and exhaustion. But it's not the physical kind, but it's not his place to force the kid to open up. He has been nothing but a good since coming. Good grades in school, helps out the younger kids, and even volunteers to help the beginners.
But to Batman and the League that doesn't matter.
" Your done for the day kid, clean up and head home and rest." Ted called.
Caius nodded. " Right Thank you coach."
Caius headed toward the locker rooms, passing regulars and trainees who gave him respectful nods or wave. A few women near the weights looked at him twice when he passed, and not just because everyone in the gym knew who he was.
At nineteen, Caius had inherited his parents genes in full. The height, looks and physical presence came from both sides. His face was sharp enough to belong on a runway, which his mother used to joke about when things were still normal.
That memory made his smile flatten slightly.
As he neared the men's locker rooms, two women stepped out from the women's side. They saw him and immediately and waved.
He knew them both well. From his past life and in person.
The one on the left was tall for a woman, around five-eight, with peach-toned fair skin, vivid emerald eyes, and rich green hair framing a beautiful face that somehow balanced exotic and playful at once. She moved with loose confidence, all warm curves and easy charm. She was Beatriz da Costa, the superhero known as Fire.
The woman beside her was a little shorter, maybe five-seven, with fair skin, blue eyes, and a face so youthful and cleanly beautiful it almost looked unreal. Platinum blonde hair fell around her shoulders, and even dressed down in gym clothes she had that ethereal softness that made people look twice. She was Tora Olafsdotter but her hero name was Ice.
Caius lifted a hand in return, but his face stayed stoic.
Beatriz smirked immediately like she could see through that.
"Hey, Cai," she said, using the nickname she'd given him years ago. "Looked like you were putting in work. Like always."
Tora nodded with open approval. "You look good. Like always. Honestly, you should join Beatriz and Mari in modeling already. We could get you connected with some very good agents."
Beatriz looked him up and down theatrically. " I know right, seriously. How old are you now Cai. I haven't seen you in so long?"
" I'm nineteen," Caius said. " I'll be twenty next year."
Tora put a hand dramatically to her chest. "You're such a baby."
Caius sighed internally. He hated when every old woman hot or not said that to him. Physically he was nineteen, but mentally he was a few years older then them. If not a whole decade .
Then she looked him over again and shook her head. "But you look mature. And very handsome. Like your father."
Beatriz made a low approving sound. "That man was unfairly handsome probably helped him get your mom. Speaking of which your mother's old agent would absolutely lose her mind over you."
For the first time, the corner of Caius's mouth moved very slightly. If he did do modelling he would do it to feel close to his mom, he didn't even need the money.
That's when he asked a question since he had two Justice League members that like him well enough.
"Have either of you heard anything?" he asked. "About anything concerning my parents. From the League."
That changed the air.
Beatriz's smile faded a little, while Tora's expression softened with what looked like regret.
"Sorry, Cai," Beatriz said. "After the Watchtower incident five years back, we haven't worked with the League much. Not after everything that happened." Her jaw tightened. "Not after how we heard they treating you."
Tora crossed her arms lightly over her stomach. "We handed in our comms earlier this year. Officially. So we are no longer league member's. Even though we still use the Zeta-Tubes, from time to time. Sorry Cai."
Caius stayed still. Of course they don't know, and they don't seem like they are lying either.
Caius remained neutral and controlled making sure not to show his frustration. Inside, still not having answers is like dragging a blade across old wounds that haven't healed.
Five years....
It had been Five years since the incident at Titans Tower. Five years since the Justice League Watchtower had come down to Earth in burning pieces.
Five years since Omni-Man fought Superman and the Justice League. He tore through some of them like a monster, and when he fought superman it was like watching gods battle.
At the same time Mark had attacked Titans Tower under circumstances no one would fully explain.
Then Jonathan and Samira Dawn had disappeared in the Watch Tower incident, and no one had given me any answers about what happened to them, just a leash incase I turn out like Omni man.
Caius inclined his head politely. " It's fine. It's still good to see you both again. It's been a while."
Tora smiled. "Beatriz insists on staying in shape."
Beatriz put a hand on her hip. "And Tora likes the way Ted runs his gym."
Ted, overhearing from across the room, shouted, "That's because I don't coddle anyone. Young. Old. Men. Women. Heroes or metas!"
Beatriz laughed and looked back at Caius. "He should open a gym in Brazil."
Caius adjusted the strap on his duffel. "Maybe."
He started to step past them still stuck in his head.
Then Beatriz moved in close. Close enough that anyone watching would just think she was saying goodbye.
Instead she leaned near his ear and whispered, " Some of my old contacts told me Omni Man's son Invincible being held by the Global Defense Agency. For re-education. Been that way for years."
Caius went absolutely still.
His eyes changed. The amber in them darkened. His fist clenched so hard it drew blood. He turned his head just slightly, enough to meet hers.
Beatriz kissed his cheek like it was nothing unusual and smiled brightly for anyone watching. "Always good to see you, Cai."
Then she straightened and walked off with Tora, both women moving toward the main gym floor like the conversation had been ordinary.
Caius stood there for one long second looking at his bloody palm and sighed.
Then he went into the locker room.
Caius dropped his bag on a bench, stripped down, and stepped under hot water. The first hit of heat rolled over his shoulders and down his back.
He braced one hand against the shower wall and closed his eyes.
Ten years....
It's been ten years since he had woken up in that child's room in Gotham County. Ten years of growing up in a world made of pieces he knew and pieces he didn't. And ten years of learning to become Caius Dawn without entirely losing Jasen.
Ten years of school, training, friendships, family dinners, quiet talks with his mother, dry humor from his father, visits from Diana, and mentorships from people of the superhero community. Mainly Gotham
Ten years of building a whole new life. And then five years ago, it was all ripped from him.
He could still remember parts of that day in flashes.
When everything was over Caius had been too valuable and too potentially dangerous to leave unwatched. He was the son of a Viltrumite and an Amazon. A hybrid whose full Viltrumite powers should have awakened years ago and somehow still hadn't.
Instead only my metagene along with my Amazonian genetics awakened. Turns out he has tactile telekinetic powers instead, overlaying his already power movement and strength in ways that made him even harder to classify.
So Batman and League watched and monitored him.
It got to the point every month Caius sat in Dr. Leslie Thompkins' office or clinic room while tests were run. Her eyes were always kind to him, she even hated what batman was doing but helped me however she could.
She would study his numbers that never changed enough. He could still hear Leslie's voice almost perfectly in his head.
"Sorry, Caius. No new signs today.
From the records Batman gave me, you're well beyond what Viltrumites consider a late bloomer's, especially in hybrids.
You may be a Type Three.
The first time she had said it, he had only nodded.
A Type Three Hybrid. From what Caius was told back then by Nolan are one of the four categories of Viltumite hybrids. Three is the designation for those who don't inherit the full capabilities of a Viltumite. The best case is enhanced strength, speed, stamina, endurance and a longer lifespan with being bale to spend longer in ones prime. But compared to full blooded Viltrumites, it's only a fraction of their true power.
Nolan had explained once mentioned in passing, years before everything went to hell. A rare kind of Viltrumite hybrid whose powers awaken along side their meta-gene.
The strongest kinds of hybrids that the empire held in great esteem. A Type Two hybrid.
Caius had never known whether to hate that possibility or cling to it. Because if his Viltrumite powers had awakened on time, maybe things would have gone differently. At the Tower or maybe not.
He shut off the shower and stepped out into the steam, water still running down his chest and back. At his locker, he dried off fast and dressed in clean black clothes. Then he reached for the collar sitting on the bench.
The dampening collar.
Black metallic band of subtle engineering. The green indicator lights built into the inner seam. It was a power dampener built by Batman, and Mr. Terrific .
Batman had been almost disturbingly efficient once Caius asked for it. And Mr. Terrific from what Caius heard made sure it was custom made for him. And that batman can't remote control it. Which Caius appreciated
At the time Caius had framed it as practical. He needed a way to train like a normal human. So he wouldn't be to reliant on his amazon abilities, and tactile telekinesis. Which would turn almost every fight into effortless beat down and make him cocky and lazy.
Batman had listened, asked a few clipped questions, and delivered the finished design faster than almost anyone else in the League had expected. Mr. Terrific guaranteed it wouldn't stay stuck on him if he didn't want it to. And outside what the league has, this is his and his alone.
Caius had still suspected Batman had been a little too eager to make something that could suppress him. So he's careful to only use it at the gym.
Caius then pressed a button and it snapped open and removed it from around his neck.
The effect removing the collar was immediate.
His body loosened as energy flooded the veins in his his limbs like hidden channels reopening. His senses sharpened that extra fraction. The low weight pressing against his muscles eased. He felt like he could break through the ceiling and fly in the sky outside.
The tactile telekinetic field that always wrapped around his body like a second skin stirred more freely.
He flexed one hand the cuts from his nails had already healed.
He wondered how different things would have be if he awakened his Viltrumite powers.
His Tactile Telekinesis allows him mentally control objects he physically touches, simulate superhuman strength, durability, and flight by surrounding himself with a telekinetic field. Allowing him to lift large objects without them breaking, create force fields, and move at high speeds, often appearing as a golden energy aura, on rare occasions.
Not to mention with advanced control, he can manipulate matter on a near-molecular level at the point of contact. Like turning steel into weapons or reshape objects just by holding them. Taking apart complicated machines instantly or fixing broken items, similar to how they manipulate molecules. Tactile Sense: which allows him to "feel" the structure and composition of anything he touch's, and identifying weaknesses or anomalies.
He could also simulated heat vision by vibrating molecules to create heat.
His amazon half give him natural superhuman strength, stamina, durability, and agility. Accelerated healing and slowed aging and longevity depending on the tribe from what his mother said. She said he was basically a demigod just from her side alone. Dad just had a quiet stoic look on is face whenever she talked about the gods of Earth.
Caius figured if he was a type three hybrid, with his amazon half he would live a few hundred years no problem. Probably four hundred before he starts to slow, maybe longer if he could manipulate his body with his (TTK) Tactile Telekinesis. Not that he ever comprehended living that long.
Caius finished getting dressed and slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, tucked the collar inside, and headed for the gym entrance.
On the way out he lifted a hand toward Ted.
"See you tomorrow coach."
Ted nodded from across the room. "Try not to kill my equipment next time."
Caius almost smiled. Then as he was about to push open the gym's front door. Two women had just stepped inside.
He recognized both in an instant, and his mood dropped hard enough to feel physical. Barbara Gordon and Kate Kane had walked in both carrying a duffle bag on their shoulders.
Barbara stood in fitted civilian gym clothes. Her red hair was tied into a ponytail that flowed just past her shoulders. She had grown into a beautiful woman, sharp and intelligent, her blue eyes no less intense than they'd been behind those big childhood glasses. The softness of girlhood still there, but Caius still saw the bright blue eyes girl who was so patient and helpful growing up, she was his first friend in this world.
Kate Kane stood beside her. Tall and Broad-shouldered for a woman. Pale skin. Red hair cut sharp. Military-straight posture. Her expression seemed stoic and controlled. Even in civilian clothes she radiated Batwoman energy. She was still fierce, beautiful and dangerous.
The second Barbara's eyes locked on his, Caius knew exactly what this was going to be a problem. These two weren't here on coincidence.
Caius has been coming here for years, and not once has he seen them, Ted did say they came when the gym was close sometimes and trained with him after hours. But that was it.
If they were here it's because batman told them to come here.
These two were part of my world and then they abandoned me, along with everyone else. Only a few people have have stayed in touch, even Alfred sends me a birthday card and letters after hearing about my school progress.
He even stopped by to help me manage my home from the bills to the setting up payments plans even though. I had the money he helped me to manage it even better then I could with my past life memories.
He even came by one late Christmas to deliver me a present and a homecooked meal. He sat with me and we talked. Normally Wonder Woman would have been there, but she was stuck on a mission with Batman and Superman, so we kept each other company.
he was the only one that treated him like a person and not a threat. Not that he didn't expect Alfred not to be packing something.
Caius's began walking to the gym door again without saying a word.
Barbara and Kate noticed it.
But no one spoke for half a breath. The noise of the gym went on behind him, but it sounded far away now.
Barbara stepped forward first.
"Caius wait."
Her voice hit him harder than he expected. He kept his face blank. " Yes Barbara."
Kate's eyes flicked over him once, head to toe, quick assessment.
Caius could already feel irritation starting to crawl up his spine.
Barbara looked like she wanted to say more immediately, but she stopped herself. Her hands stayed close at her sides, though he knew her well enough to see tension in the way her shoulders sat.
"You look…" She paused, recalibrated. "You look well."
That almost made him laugh.
Almost.
He had to wonder what exactly counted as well in their circles now. Training in a dampening collar. Being monitored twenty four seven. Living on a leash just long enough to remind him it was there.
"Okay. Is that ?," he said flatly. "If so I have places to be."
"Your friend is trying to talk to you. " Kate said sternly." Just because your taller doesn't mean you can brush her off to the side."
That made Caius nearly lose his composure, but he knew then to let Kate of all people get to him. Maybe if it was Jason then he would have felt guilty, but Caius knew who she was comic books and person.
"Friend.' I didn't knwo we still were after five years. " Caius said coldly.
"Five since I woke up in a hospital alone, no word. Five years since I tried calling you a dozen times, still no word. Not once have you tried to reach out to me. Alfred, Dick, even your father have spoken to me over the years. But you haven't said one word. So tell me Ms. Gordon, How are we still friends?"
Barbra's eyes widen with the realization of his words. She knew everything he said was cold and truthful. Barbra lost her words for a moment and looked at him.
Cain stood there taller then both her and Kate. Barbara had always been used to looking up at im him slightly . Now Caius stood clearly over her.
She noticed his build next. The old teen softness she had been replaced by hard edges and a muscular frame. His face had matured into something sharper. He was clearly more attractive but his beautiful eyes were colder.
She could see what was under the surface. Anger.
Barbara had always been able to read pieces of him when they were younger. Now she could still see it in flashes, but it was buried under too much anger. Which she knew he had every right to be
Kate took one step to the side, not blocking the entrance but claiming space near Barbara in a quiet, protective way.
And Caius noticed it.
Which only worsened his mood.
"You two here for Ted?" he asked. knowing that they would lie
Barbara answered. "Partly."
"Meaning?"
Kate spoke before Barbara could. "Meaning we were hoping to talk to you."
There it was the first lie. Caius felt something hard settle behind his ribs.
"And if I'm not interested?"
Barbara's jaw tightened at the edge. "Caius...."
"No," he cut in, voice still calm. "Let's not do that. Don't say my name like it solves anything. Batman told you to come here to see me, and I'm saying no."
The words landed harder than he had intended, but not harder than he felt.
Barbara took the hit without flinching, though the hurt flashed in her eyes for an instant before control covered it.
Kate watched both of them carefully.
"Can we please talk outside?"
Caius stared at her.
The red hair. The blue eyes. The face he had once known so easily when life had still made sense. He hated that part of him still reacted to her at all.
"It's to late to talk. Plus I'm tired," he said. " And whatever this is, I doubt I'm going to like it."
Kate folded her arms. "That doesn't mean it isn't necessary."
Caius turned his head and looked at her directly for the first time.
"Funny. That sounds familiar."
Kate met the stare without backing down. "I'm not my cousin."
"No," Caius said. "You're not that's for damn sure."
Kate knew what he meant, and her gaze narrowed on Caius. She kept her anger under control choosing not to let his words get to her.
Barbara stepped in before the silence could sharpen further.
"Please," she said.
And that irritated him most of all, because part of him still wanted to listen when she sounded like that. He looked away first, jaw working once.
Slowly, Caius let go of the door handle and stepped fully out onto the sidewalk. He shifted the duffel on his shoulder and looked back at them.
"You have five minutes," he said. "And if this turns into another League conversation where I'm told to be patient, or I need to do something I'm leaving."