Life Is: Emergence 2.17 (Patreon)

Emergence 2.17

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HAPPY HARBORAugust 24, 5:50 EDTThe firing range in Mount Justice hummed with an eerie quiet, broken only by the soft whir of the ventilation system. Zeke stood alone in the dimly lit space, rows of white targets lined up along the far wall. He squinted, adjusting to the low light that made the targets pop against the dark backdrop.

"Alright, let's do this," Zeke muttered, flexing his fingers. Blue energy crackled to life in his palms as he took aim at the nearest target. The power felt familiar now, like an extension of himself. He could feel it pulsing through his veins, eager to be unleashed.

"Mana Burst!" he called out, his voice echoing in the empty space.

A concentrated ball of energy zipped across the range, slamming into the bullseye with a satisfying thwack. Zeke grinned, noting how each burst was smaller and more stable than a week ago. Guess all that grinding is paying off.

He shifted his stance, aiming for targets at different angles and distances. Each shot required a slight adjustment in power and focus. It was like playing the world's weirdest game of darts, if darts could blow stuff up. Zeke found himself getting into a rhythm, his body moving almost on autopilot as he fired off burst after burst.

Time to level up, Zeke thought, confidence surging through him. He held up his hand, focusing intently on his index finger. Come on, Mana Beam! Let's make this happen!

Blue energy swirled around his fingertip, condensing into a pinprick of light. Zeke's brow furrowed as he concentrated, willing the energy to stabilize. For a moment, it seemed to work – the light grew brighter, more intense.

Zeke could feel the power building, straining against his control.

Then—

"No, no, no!" Zeke's eyes widened as the energy pulsed, growing unstable. Before he could react, the Mana Burst exploded right in his face.

The force knocked him clean off his feet. Zeke tumbled backward, the world spinning as he rolled ass over teakettle across the firing range floor. He came to a stop flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling as it slowly stopped spinning.

"Ow," he groaned, the word encompassing so much. His face felt like it had been slapped by a giant, angry hand, and his ears were ringing like church bells on Sunday.

Zeke took a moment to catalog his body parts, making sure everything was still fully and completely attached. Satisfied that he wasn't actively dying, he sat up with a wince. His clothes were singed, and the tips of his fingers tingled unpleasantly.

Note to self: maybe don't try to cram a grenade's worth of energy into your finger.

Despite the setback, Zeke couldn't help but smile. This was all part of the learning process, right? He made a mental note about the limits of focusing Mana at such a fine point. Maybe spread it out more next time. Or, you know, wear blast goggles.

Brushing himself off, Zeke headed for the exit. His earlier confidence had taken a hit, leaving him with a slight frown as he walked. The Cave's corridors felt cooler after the heat of the firing range, and he shivered slightly. The place kinda gave him the creeps, even after living here for a while, with its winding corridors and shadowy corners. It was like being inside a giant, high-tech anthill.

His feet carried him automatically to the medical bay. Superboy was still there, unconscious but looking better. Most of his wounds had faded, leaving only faint marks where the worst burns had been. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the room.

Miss Martian stood beside the bed, her eyes fixed on Superboy's face. She looked up as Zeke entered, offering a weak smile. "Any change?" Zeke asked, even though he could see the answer.

M'gann shook her head. "Not yet. But the scans say he's improving."

Zeke nodded, unsure what to say. 

But then he looked at M'gann, at the care in her eyes as she watched over her teammate. He thought about Kaldur's leadership, Robin's skills, Artemis's drive. Maybe they were young, but they were also making a difference.

Even if we screw up sometimes, Zeke added mentally, his singed fingers twitching.

"He'll be okay," Zeke said finally, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "Supes is tough."

M'gann nodded, her smile a little more genuine this time. "Thanks, Zeke."

Leaving the medical bay, Zeke's mind churned with conflicting thoughts. He was so lost in his head that he hadn't even raised his head until he heard the sound of grunting and punches snapping through the air. The sounds jolted him out of his inner monologue, and he looked up, curious.

Donna was in the center of the Cave's mission room, shadowboxing with an intensity that made Zeke blink. Her fists blurred through the air, each punch punctuated by a soft grunt of exertion. Sweat glistened on her skin, and her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, whipping around with each strike.

Zeke raised an eyebrow, watching the Amazon's relentless training. It was like watching a force of nature, all raw power and fierce determination. He couldn't help but be impressed, even as a part of him wondered what drove her to push herself so hard.

Feel like that's all she does around here, Zeke mused, his head tilting slightly as he observed Donna's intense focus. The Amazon had been almost single-minded in her focus over the last few days, not letting up in her regular and focused workouts. Train, train, and train some more. Wonder what's going on in that head of hers.Maybe it was the fact that she brought the team a mission that hurt one of their own. Or maybe she was usually this insane, it was up in the air.

"Zeke."

The thirteen-year-old turned to the side and saw Wally sitting in the living room area, gorging on dry cereal. Judging from the angle of where he sat, he'd been watching Wonder Girl train. Typical Wally

He made his way over, plopping down on the couch beside the redhead. "Sup, KF?" he greeted, reaching over to snag a handful of cereal from the box. "Enjoying the view?"

Wally rolled his eyes, but a grin spread across his face. "Shut up, man. I'm just here for the food."

Zeke snorted, popping a few pieces of cereal into his mouth. "Sure you are."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds being the crunch of cereal and the distant grunts of Donna's training. Zeke's mind wandered back to the medical bay, to Superboy's still form on the bed.

"Hey," Wally spoke up, jolting Zeke out of his thoughts. "Were you just with Superboy?"

Zeke nodded, swallowing his mouthful of cereal. "Yeah, he's healing up good."

Wally hummed, shoveling another handful into his mouth. "Yeah, Miss Martian spends a bunch of time there. She must feel really bad 'cause she didn't even get to take them down."

Zeke frowned, remembering the look on M'gann's face as she sat by Conner's bedside. The guilt, the worry, the fear. It was a look he'd seen too often lately. "Or that Conner shielded her, saved her life," he added quietly.

Wally paused mid-chew, his expression sobering. "Yeah, that too."

Zeke sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. His mind replayed the battle, the chaos, the feeling of helplessness as he watched Conner fall. "I just wish I could have done more, y'know. I have a… well, my shield couldn't have held up against that blast without Conner, but… eventually…"

He glanced down at his hands, feeling the familiar tingle of mana beneath his skin. It was there, always, but sometimes it felt like it wasn't enough. Like he wasn't enough. "You know what I mean?"

Wally nodded, setting the cereal box aside. "Yeah," he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "I get what you mean. I keep wishing I was faster. Flash would have gotten us all out of there in no time."

Zeke couldn't resist a small grin at that. "You mean Big Red?"

Wally groaned, throwing his head back. "Let it go," he grumbled out loud, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Zeke chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. They fell quiet again, each lost in their own thoughts. Zeke's mind raced, jumping from the battle to his training to the endless list of things he needed to improve. There's gotta be a way to get stronger, he thought, his brow furrowing. Something I'm missing…

And then, it hit him. A memory, a snippet of information he'd come across in his late-night research binges. His eyes widened, and he turned to Wally with a sudden intensity. "Hey KF… what do you know about Johnny Quick? Have you heard of him?"

Wally let out a loud snort, the redhead actually putting down his bowl as he laughed for a few seconds. As his chuckles died down, the teenage speedster rolled his eyes and snorted, "Yeah, I've heard about Johnny Quick."

Zeke nodded his head, not taking any offense at Wally's sarcasm. He had expected a response along those lines, if not exactly immediate laughter. From what he'd seen online, Johnny Quick was a kinda famous speedster back in the 1970s and early eighties. He had never received quite the level of fame that the generation of heroes before him and after him did, though, something that seemed to be a common thread with that whole period of superhero work.

That whole era of hero work just went unnoticed, really, Zeke mused, his mind drifting back to the countless forum posts and wiki pages he'd scoured. Not even in the history books like the Civil Defense Force, or revered and respected like the Justice Society or the All Star Squadron.

Just no names like Infinity Inc, and the Justice… Experience. Whatever that was, Zeke added mentally, his nose wrinkling at the oddity of the name.

Still, even as part of the "Lost Generation" of heroes, Johnny Quick had managed to stand out above the rest. He wasn't quite the Elvis or Michael Jackson of speedsters, from what Zeke's internet searches and forum crawls had let him know; those titles belonged to Mr. Garrick and Mr. Allen respectively. If anything, he was the… Bruce Springsteen of speedsters. Memorable, but not quite as iconic.

"Yeah, Zeke, I know about Johnny Quick," Wally said, interrupting Zeke's train of thought. "But that story is insane. A mantra in your head gives you speed? That makes no sense!"

Zeke raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Doesn't it, though? Wally, seriously, does it make any more sense than some random mix of chemicals and a quick shock giving you the ability to move at the speed of sound? You? Some otherwise normal teenager?"

Wally frowned, his brow furrowing. "That's different.”Zeke raised an eyebrow. “...if you say so.”