LIBAG: Emergence 2.24a (Patreon)

September 7th. Three days after Bialya, and Zeke was still recovering. Not physically—physically he was fine. His powers kinda made sure anything physical could be handled with a good night’s sleep and a bowl of Crocky Crunch.

Not… mentally either, exactly.

That was also up there.

Emotionally? Sure, emotionally worked.

Temporary traumatic stress disorder, he snorted into thin air. Now with 30% less trauma and 70% more repression. 

The cave was quiet. The kind of quiet that made it feel abandoned, like time had slowed to a crawl and forgotten to pick up speed again. No Aqualad—still recovering in Atlantis. No Troia; still recovering in Themyscira.The rest of the Team were… elsewhere.

So Zeke had found a distraction.

He sat cross-legged on the Cave floor, staring at the sleek sphere that had followed them back after the mission like a stray puppy that wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He knew what it was. Had known from the moment he got a good look at it after it transformed to help him with his two teammates, barely conscious and fully gone as they were that night.He was looking at the Super-Cycle.The same one from the Young Justice comics, the one that had ferried around Superboy, Tim Drake, and Bart Allen around on all their various adventures. The one that had a mind of its own and a weird habit of adopting strays.

Wonder where Rip Roar is right now… Zeke blinked, thoughts skipping track. Or the Mighty Endowed… that would be weird to actually have to fight her. How would you even make eye contact?

The Super-Cycle beeped softly, pulling him back to reality before his brain could wander further into the danger zone.

Zeke grinned and beeped back, tapping the top of its metallic frame with two fingers like he was petting a dog. “You and me, buddy. We’re gonna get along just fine.”

The cycle chirped.

Zeke chirped back.

It whirred.

Zeke whirred back.

He didn’t speak its language, but that wasn’t gonna stop him from trying. After all, he didn’t speak Spanish either, but that hadn’t stopped him from ordering three burritos en espanol.

The holo-terminal flickered to life with a call from the field. Zeke, still sitting cross-legged on the ground, leaned over towards as it auto-accepted, the way the calls always did when it was from an authorized League member or affiliate.

Red Arrow appeared in glowing blue light, the former sidekick’s hologram appearing with short close-cropped red hair, a pair of sunglasses, and the look of someone perpetually sucking on a lemon.

The older teen’s expression somehow got even more lemony when he saw the only human being in the room. “Great,” Red Arrow grumbled, “I’m stuck with the baby.”

Zeke didn’t miss a beat. “Googoo gaga.”

“This is my life now.” Red Arrow pinched the bridge of his nose like he was fighting off a migraine. “Aqualad still out?”

Zeke’s casual grin faded slightly. He nodded. “Yeah. Still recovering.” Still weakened from mind control and dehydration… but hey, my choices didn’t lead to that, so no one’s giving me the side-eye for it.

Red Arrow’s frown deepened as he let out a sharp breath. “Everyone else…”

“What do you think, man?” Zeke simply shrugged his way. “If they were here, I’d tell you.”

Red Arrow sighed again, the sound of a man reevaluating every life choice that led him to this moment. “It doesn’t matter. I need help on a specific op, and you’ve had enough experience notto need yor hand held on something like this.”The thirteen-year old thought back to the last few months, particularly the incidents of him getting shot, stabbed, chased by giant monsters, falling from crazy heights, and worst of all, being hit in the chest hard enough to lose the ability to breathe for a good couple of minutes. “…I disagree.”“I. Don’t. Care,” Red Arrow intoned back. “Suit up. You’re going in.”

Zeke blinked at theThen grinned, the expression sharp and immediate. “Oh, now you want the baby’s help?”

“…Just get here. I need backup on this one.” Red Arrow’s jaw tightened slightly, the words clearly costing him. “I’m dealing with the League of Shadows. They’re trying to crash a peace summit in Rhelasia.”

Zeke leaned forward slightly, blue eyes wide and interest spiking all of a sudden as he put two and two together. League of Shadows = Cheshire. Cheshire = Artemis’s sister. Major plot point incoming in 3…2…

“Cheshire again?”

Red Arrow gave a curt nod. “Already captured. But I need intel, and I don’t trust her to stay locked up for long.”

Zeke hummed, rocking back slightly. “Sounds like a ‘you’ problem, man.”

Red Arrow’s glare could cut steel. “It’s about to be a ‘we’ problem, kid.”

Technically not wrong. Zeke didn’t just blast off immediately though. He needed to make one quick call—because despite his general chaos, he actually followed orders.

When they made sense.

Captain Atom wasn’t thrilled when Zeke explained the situation, but after a quick rundown, he gave the go-ahead. “Just call in regularly, son,” the captain said, voice crisp and professional even while probably in the middle of something important. “And remember—you’re representing more than just yourself out there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zeke replied, “whole Team, whole League, gotcha. Don’t worry, Cap. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“That’s what concerns me,” Captain Atom muttered.

Red Arrow, still on the call and clearly regretting every second of it, didn’t miss the opportunity. “You needed to call your daddy?” he asked mockingly.

Zeke just flashed him an innocent smile. “Sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of how triggered you are about Green Arrow.”

Red Arrow’s face went rigid. “Be there in an hour or I’m doing this solo.” The call cut off.

Some people just can’t take a joke. Or confronting their daddy issues. Same diff.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The zeta tube deposited Zeke in Taipei one hour and fifteen minutes later (because being exactly on time was for suckers and Red Arrow needed to learn patience), his costume underneath his casual clothes. The first step he took out of the teleporter had him gasp a little, as the air hit him with that distinct foreign-city mix—humid heat, street food, and too many people.

Roy Harper stood there waiting with his arms crossed, in a suit and a pair of red sunglasses. The eighteen-year-old archer somehow managed to look disgruntled in a way that Zeke would normally only expect forty-year-old divorced guys to manage. Even as disgruntled as he was, the guy was leaning against the nearest wall, posing naturally as if he was born doing it.

“You’re late.” He started walking, not even turning around to see if Zeke was behind him.

“Yeah, and you’re rocking the whole ‘brooding vigilante with abandonment issues’ vibe,” Zeke replied, falling into step beside him. “Are we just saying facts now?”

Red Arrow didn’t rise to the bait, which was impressive. “I’m going to interrogate Cheshire. You’re going to stay here and keep an eye out for Shadows activity.”

“Oooh, interrogation!” Zeke perked up immediately at the thought of getting to see Cheshire again. Evil assasin or not, the ninja girl was h-o-t. Or maybe it was because she was an evil assasin. “Can I come? I can be good cop.”

Red Arrow turned his eyes on him, somehow managing to glare from behind a pair of sunglasses.

Zeke raised his hands, fingers splayed out wide as he took a big step back “Fine! Jeez. Sorry for wanting to contribute to the mission you dragged me into.”

“Just stay in the lobby.” The older teen’s expression remained hard. “Do not engage with anyone suspicious.” Red Arrow’s finger jabbed toward Zeke’s chest, stopping just short of actual contact. “I mean it.”

“What’s your definition of suspicious?” Zeke asked, tilting his head. “Like, on a scale from ‘wearing socks with sandals’ to ‘carrying a rocket launcher’?”

Red Arrow was already walking away. “Anyone who talks to you is suspicious by definition.”

“Love you too, buddy!” Zeke called after him, earning several curious looks from hotel staff.

So this is the thrilling life of a superhero. Standing in lobbies. Watching paint dry. Wondering if that potted plant is secretly an assassin.

Zeke wandered around the luxurious hotel, taking mental inventory of exits, security cameras, and the general layout. Basic superhero 101 stuff. The place screamed money—marble floors polished to mirror-shine, tasteful art that probably cost more than most people’s houses, staff that moved with the precise efficiency of people who knew exactly how replaceable they were.

Wonder if they have free wifi…

His boredom lasted precisely eleven minutes.

A red-haired, well-built woman in a sleek business suit approached him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Excuse me,” she said, voice polite but firm. “A guest would like to speak with you.”

Mercy Graves Lv 35Iron Maiden

Amazon by blood but mercenary by nature, Mercy Graves is what happens when you take a bodyguard and turn them into a walking, talking, perfectly dressed tank. She’s packing as much cybernetics as a sci-fi convention, but you’d never guess from that business suit and red tie.

Well, well, well. If it isn’t one of the most dangerous women on the planet… who is also a cyborg? Why is she a cyborg? He honestly wasn’t sure, but this universe was all sorts of weird even if the broad strokes were accurate. And she’s here which means… Zeke tapped the star on the center of his belt buckle, activating the tracker hidden in his casual clothes. Just in case.

“Happy to oblige,” he said, expression somewhere between casual and curious. “Lead the way, Ms. Graves.”

If she was surprised he knew her name, she didn’t show it. She simply turned and walked toward the elevator, expecting him to follow.

Probably used to people knowing who she is. Or who she works for, anyway.

The elevator ride was silent. Mercy stood perfectly still, like a statue someone had dressed in Armani. Zeke considered making small talk just to see if he could crack that perfect composure but decided against it. Some rocks weren’t worth the effort.

The penthouse was exactly what you’d expect—sleek, minimalist, expensive in that way that didn’t need to announce itself. Mercy guided him down a hallway and into a private meeting room.

Lex Luthor was waiting.

He sat like a man who always knew exactly where the power in the room lay. Which, fair. In a universe of gods and monsters, Lex Luthor had carved out his territory with nothing but human brilliance and a pathological need to prove himself.

Luthor smiled—that same rehearsed, friendly expression, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes but looked like it should. “Ah, Genesis. Captain Atom’s protege.”

Zeke gave him a lazy salute. “I’d say ‘at your service,’ but I feel like that sends the wrong message.”

Luthor’s smile didn’t falter. “How is the good Captain Atom doing? Pardon me—General Atom, now, isn’t it?”

Zeke barely contained his grimace. “Please don’t.”

Luthor chuckled, the sound so warm and wealthy-sounding that a recording of it was probably worth membership to some country club somewhere. “Of course.”Hell, that was why Zeke liked him so much honestly.

Above all else, Luthor was good at what he did, damn near everything he did that wasn’t the ability to love another human being unselfishly. His words, his body language— all of it was deliberate. A chess master setting up his pieces, turning the conversation this way and that to achieve some obscure objective.

Zeke could already see where this was going.

The polite small talk. The calmly phrased, oh-so-reasonable words designed to set a tone of mutual respect. The gentle push toward familiarity, toward comfort, toward the illusion that they were just two men—

Well. A man and a kid.

That was the thing about Luthor. He was good. Too good. He had a way of disarming people without them even realizing it, of making them feel like they were the ones in control.

Zeke let it go on for exactly thirty seconds.

Then he smiled.

“You know I know what you’re doing, right?” Zeke cut in, tilting his head slightly.

Luthor’s brows lifted slightly, his expression the picture of polite confusion. “I’m sorry?”

Zeke grinned. “You’re not. But okay.”

Luthor’s fingers tapped lightly against the table, his smile not fading, but settling, like he was shifting gears. “That’s an interesting assumption.”

Zeke shrugged. “It’s not an assumption.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Nope.”

“Alright.” Luthor gestured slightly with his hand, like he was humoring him. “What is it you think I’m doing?”

Zeke leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin in his hands, looking every bit like a kid getting ready to share a fun fact.

“You’re playing the long game.”

Luthor hummed, amused. “And what game is that?”

Zeke’s eyes flickered blue.

Alexander Luthor Lv 25The Super Man

Billionaire, super-genius, and philanthropist, in a world full of superhumans, Lex Luthor has made a career out of making everyone underestimate him as just a normal man, right before he buys their company, steals their tech, or ruins their life. He talks like a statesman, plans like a warlord, and somehow always stays three steps ahead like the consummate villain he is, no matter who’s watching.

If Superman’s the symbol of hope, Lex is the fine print.

“The same one you always play.”

That actually made Luthor pause.

It wasn’t much of a reaction. Just a small tilt of the head, a fraction of a second where something shifted behind his eyes.

But Zeke caught it.“Conner’s doing fine, by the way,” Zeke shot back, trying to get under the billionaire’s skin. That was a terrible idea, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it a little. Just because he liked Lex Luthor, it didn’t mean that he didn’t know exactly what the guy was.The bald billionaire blinked, pulling off a look of confusion so perfect that on anyone else would be believable. “Pardon me… Conner?”A half-second later, it was Zeke’s turn to blink. Oh, shit… The look of confusion was believable because it was real, not bullshit. He doesn’t…Blue eyes widened slightly. “You… you don’t know…” He nodded, cutting himself off. “I think you’d call him Superboy.”Lex nodded as well, the man catching himself. “Ah, well… that’s good to know. I’m not sure why you’re telling me this th-”“Because he’s your son,” Zeke cut in, watching the slightest twitch in Lex’s jaw as he was interrupted. “You know, the half-human clone you made with your DNA and Superman’s?”Lex leaned forward, ever-so-slightly, with a smile on his face. “Rest assured, young man, I have no idea what you’re implying, but I would never do such a thing.”“I’m sure,” Zeke shot back, smiling just the same. The only difference was that his was actually real. “But even though I know you’re going to, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m a fan.”“A… fan?” Luthor still looked caught off-guard, if only slightly. “Once again, you’ll have to pardon me for my ignorance as I wasn’t aware CEO’s generally had a fanbase below the age of forty, especially among the costumed community.”The thirteen-year-old nodded slowly, head tilted to one side as he caught Mercy standing at the edge of his vision. “Yeah, I get that… and if I was from this universe, you’d be right.”Lex’s eyes seemed to gleam at that last bit of his sentence. “Universe, you say?”“Again, you don’t have to pretend,” Zeke answered back. “I honestly don’t care. I know you’ve definitely done the sort of research into me that would make the CIA blush. You probably can’t find me on any records anywhere. You wouldn’t be Lex Luthor if you hadn’t.”

Zeke leaned back, watching Luthor carefully. “It’s funny,” he mused, voice light, casual, but with an edge beneath it. “You’re pretty much a multiversal constant that way, you know? No matter the timeline, no matter the universe—Lex Luthor is always the antagonist.”

Luthor’s fingers stilled.

Zeke didn’t stop.

“Always untrustworthy,” Zeke continued. “Always on his own side. Never anyone else’s. Not friends. Not family. Not love. Just himself.”

Luthor smiled again. “Oh?”

“You’re a psychopath, Mr. Luthor.”

Luthor didn’t flinch.

Zeke held his gaze, voice unwavering. “And that’s not an insult.”

Luthor leaned forward slightly, interest clear in his eyes. “No?”

“No,” Zeke said. “It’s admirable. You’re one of the closest examples of an actual übermensch in almost any reality. I’m a big fan, and I mean that. I’m more of a fan of you than I am Superman because you’re the way you are. I…” Zeke blinked as some fragmented memories flashed back in his head. “I… used to want to shave my head as a little kid because of you. Because I wanted to be just like you.”

Luthor’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes narrowed slightly, the man clearly cataloging every word.

“In a universe without Superman, you’d be humanity’s greatest hero. Not for… you know,” Zeke turned his palm side to side, a slight grimace on his face, “good reasons. It’d be entirely utilitarian and egotistic but you’d legitimately remake the world. Granted, in your image, but that’s even more admirable. More than anything, you’re ruthless, unforgiving, ambitious… a real super man.”

Luthor’s smile widened, just slightly. “And you know this how?”

Zeke’s blue eyes flickered—just briefly, just enough to catch the light. “The same way I know Lionel Luthor’s death is never an accident. Not when Lex Luthor is alive.”

Luthor’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean.”

Zeke smiled, the expression all teeth. “Was MIT really worth it, Mister Luthor?”

Luthor went still.

Just for a second.

Then—

The smile came back. Perfect. Unshaken.

“Interesting theory,” Luthor murmured. “And here I thought you were just a child.”

Zeke laughed. “Right? Me too.”

Luthor’s fingers tapped idly against the table, considering. “I’ll admit, Genesis. You’re not what I expected.”

“Wow,” Zeke said dryly. “What gave it away? Was it the glowing eyes? Please tell me it was the glowing eyes.”

“You’re rather hard to pin down.”

“Damn. And I was really trying to be predictable.”

Luthor chuckled, the man shaking his head slightly. “I think I like you.”

“And that’s exactly why I like you,” Zeke shot back, grinning. “You’re still trying to be nice to me even while planning about how to splatter my brains across a wall and that not be traced back to you.”

Luthor actually laughed at that.

It wasn’t fake. Not like the first one.

Not like the one before that.

It was genuine.

And that?

That made a shudder ride up Zeke’s spine.

Because Lex Luthor didn’t laugh like that unless he thought he’d won something.

“Perhaps I’ve underestimated you,” Luthor said, regaining his composure. “A rare occurrence, I assure you.”

“Don’t feel bad. Pretty much everyone does.” Zeke shrugged. “It’s the height. People see five feet of teenager and assume I’m harmless.”

“An advantage, surely.” Luthor’s smile was knowing. “Being underestimated.”

“Ask Queen Bee how that worked out for her.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as Luthor’s eyes glinted with renewed interest. “Ah, yes. The… unfortunate incident in Bialya. There are rumors of metahuman activity in the region. I assume the League must be quite concerned about the political fallout.”

Playing it cool. Of course he already knows. Zeke kept his expression neutral. “You know how it is. Dictators come, dictators go. Usually with more of a bang than a whimper, but hey, that’s show business.”

“Indeed.” Luthor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small white card. “I won’t take up any more of your time, Genesis. But should you ever find yourself in need of… perspective, outside the Justice League’s narrow worldview, please feel free to contact me directly.”

He slid the card across the table.

Zeke picked it up, examining it briefly—simple, elegant, an expensive looking black card with the LexCorp logo and just a phone number embossed in gold—before pocketing it into his inventory right in front of Luthor’s eyes, the card disappearing into blue pixels. If it was a tracker, the signals weren’t going to reach inside his subspace. STAR Labs testing had taught him that much.

“Thanks for the chat, Mr. Luthor.” Zeke stood, smoothing out his hoodie. “It’s been… educational.”

“The pleasure was mine.” Luthor stood as well, rising from his seat in a smooth practiced motion. “Mercy will show you out.”

The quiet bodyguard walked to the door with military precision and walked through it before Zeke. The young teenager followed her back to the elevator, the silence between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the doors opened on the lobby level and Mercy turned to head back up, Zeke called after her.

“Hey, Mercy?”

She turned around, expression carefully blank.

Zeke looked at her and smiled. “Say hi to Hope for me.”

The bodyguard’s eyes widened as the doors closed in front of her.

That’s gonna cost me someday, but damn if it wasn’t worth it.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The lobby was empty of one particular redheaded archer when Zeke returned. He checked his watch, deciding to give it another hour before giving the guy a call.Zeke found a comfy chair in the lobby with a decent view of both the main entrance and the elevators. Perfect for people-watching and making mental notes about who looked suspicious. The hotel was buzzing with diplomatic staff, security personnel, and what looked like every journalist within a hundred-mile radius.

Peace summit, huh? More like a fancy photo op with extra steps.

He’d read enough comics to know how these things usually went. Important people making important speeches about important issues, all while the real deals were being made in back rooms and hotel bars. He may have been a kid but he was smart enough to know that politics was theater, and Luthor seemed to be the one directing this whole show. Wonder what his angle is. Luthor doesn’t do anything without at least three hidden motives and a backup plan for each.

Forty-six minutes later, a waterlogged and distinctly irritated Red Arrow stalked into the hotel, looking like he’d gone swimming in his uniform. And not voluntarily.

“What happened to you?” Zeke asked, eyebrows shooting up.

Red Arrow’s glare could have melted steel. “…shut up.”

“No, seriously. Did you take a detour through the koi pond, or…?”

“Cheshire escaped.” Red Arrow’s jaw clenched. “We need to prepare to act as guards for the peace summit. Luthor’s mediating between the Rhelasian leaders.”

Zeke carefully kept his expression neutral at the mention of Luthor. “Huh. Funny.”

Red Arrow’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Just, you know, Luthor. Peace summit. Totally normal Tuesday.” Zeke rocked back on his heels. “So what’s the plan? Snazzy suits and earpieces?”

“You’ll be undercover as wait staff,” Red Arrow said. “I’ll be part of the security detail.”

“Hold up.” Zeke raised a hand. “You get to be bodyguard material and I have to serve drinks? That’s ageist. Or height-ist. Possibly both.”

“It’s strategic,” Red Arrow countered. “No one pays attention to the help. You’ll have better access.”

“Tell that to my self-esteem,” Zeke muttered, but didn’t actually argue.“Let’s get changed. Summit starts in an hour.”“Yes, sir, Mr. Arrow, sir,” Zeke mock-saluted. “Any special instructions? Like, do I just straight-up poison the North Rhelasian delegation, or—”

“This isn’t a joke,” Red Arrow snapped back at him. “The League of Shadows doesn’t fail. If Cheshire escaped, it means they have a plan B. Possibly a plan C through Z.”

“Relax,” Zeke said, dropping the act slightly. “Not my first rodeo with assassins. Well, technically it’s my second, but I’ve read enough c—” He caught himself with a twitch. “—mission briefings to know how these people operate. I’ll be fine.”

Red Arrow didn’t look convinced, but he nodded curtly. “Stay on comms. Keep your eyes open. And don’t do anything stupid.”

“You’ve met me, right?” Zeke grinned back. “Stupid is my middle name. Actually, it’s Patrick, but close enough.”

Red Arrow just walked away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “where’s Aqualad when you need him?“

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Two hours later, Zeke was dressed in a poorly-fitted waiter’s uniform, complete with bow tie that seemed determined to choke him, while Red Arrow blended in perfectly with the security team in a tailored suit.

Nothing says ‘I value your contribution’ like making the black kid serve drinks at the fancy party.

The peace summit was being held in the hotel’s grand ballroom, transformed for the occasion with flags, banners, and enough security to make Fort Knox jealous. The North and South Rhelasian delegations were seated on opposite sides of a massive table, glaring at each other with barely disguised hostility. Lex Luthor was positioned at the head, playing peacemaker with practiced ease.

Wonder what he gets out of this. Access to whatever resources Rhelasia’s selling? Political leverage? Probably both, plus something I’m not seeing.

Zeke weaved through the crowd, balancing a tray of champagne flutes with all the grace his thirteen-year-old coordination could muster. The Rhelasian leaders were already seated at the main table, barely concealing their mutual dislike as they exchanged barbed pleasantries through translators.

The casual racism was just a bonus. The thirteen-year-old collected curious stares and a few muttered comments in Rhelasian that the translator app on his phone helpfully decoded as variations on “why is there a foreign child serving us?” and “Americans have no respect for tradition.”

Keep smiling. You’re just the hired help.

It was hard to keep that smile on the face while on the lookout for any potential threat, when the room was filled with potential threats. 

Half the people in the room were armed—security personnel, diplomatic guards, and probably a few undercover agents from various intelligence agencies. The question was which ones might be compromised.

Zeke caught Red Arrow’s eye across the room, giving him a subtle nod that meant “nothing unusual yet.” The archer returned it with a fractional tilt of his head, then resumed scanning the crowd.

We make a pretty good team when he’s not being a total jerk.

A waitress in elaborate geisha makeup caught his eye as she moved toward the main table. Something about her movement pattern triggered warning bells. 

Too fluid. Too purposeful. Too… 

Zeke’s eyes flashed blue.

Cheshire (Jade Nguyen-Crock) Lv 26Killer Smile

Sister of Artemis and daughter of Sportsmaster, this is one kitty cat you don’t want to cross, unless your idea of fun is a swift and stealthy death.

Oh, come ON. Zeke nearly dropped his tray, recovering just in time to avoid creating a champagne waterfall. Of course she’s here. Of course she is.

Cheshire’s eyes locked with his for a brief, electric moment. Recognition. Then a smirk that promised nothing good.

She rushed toward Red Arrow, her steps quickening as she managed to sprint in high heels.

Fuck! Zeke tossed his tray on the nearest table, already moving to intercept, when a new sound cut through the ambient chatter—the heavy whump-whump-whump of helicopter blades directly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He turned just in time to see a military chopper hovering directly outside. The side door slid open to reveal a figure in a hockey mask, wielding what could only be described as a really big gun.

Zeke’s blue eyes widened as he caught sight of the minigun in Sportsmaster’s grip.

“Oh n—”

The minigun opened fire, glass shattering in a deadly cascade as bullets tore through the windows and into the crowded hall.

Mission Gained! 

Defending The Peace

Prevent the assassination of the Rhelasian political leaders and survive the assault of Sportsmaster and Cheshire.

Objectives: 

– Protect Civilians [ ] 

– Defeat Cheshire [ ] 

– Defeat Sportsmaster [ ]

Rewards: 20000 XP, Increased reputation with Red Arrow

So much for covert ops.

“[Power Boost]!”