The atmosphere in the Watchtower's common room was relaxed, almost festive. A table was laden with dishes from all over Earth, and beyond. The sound of conversation and laughter echoed softly under the station's vast domes. The Flash was telling a story—at normal speed, for him—about a race against a meteor, while Green Lantern and Superman discussed interstellar diplomacy. Utopian, or Marcus, listened, absorbing every detail, feeling both included and like an outsider.
It was then that Hawkgirl, who had been observing him intently, set her glass down heavily on a table. The sound caused nearby conversations to hush slightly.
"Utopian," she called out, her gruff voice carrying clearly across the room. "I challenge you to a fight."
An awkward silence fell suddenly. Several heroes lowered their heads or sighed. Green Lantern pinched the bridge of his nose.
"And there she goes again," he muttered, exasperated.
Flash zipped to Hawkgirl's side in an instant. "Shayera, why do you have to challenge everyone? This is supposed to be a party!"
Hawkgirl crossed her arms, her mace still strapped to her back, and stared Utopian down without blinking.
"He's not just anyone," she retorted, her voice firm. "He's a potential partner. He needs to be evaluated. We can't rely just on Batman's word or his nice costume. A fight reveals more. It reveals your instinct, your courage, how you react under pressure." She turned fully to Utopian, a burning challenge in her eyes. "So? Do you accept, idealist?"
All eyes turned to Utopian. He felt the weight of their expectation, but also a morbid curiosity from some. Superman looked slightly concerned, while Batman, in his corner, observed the scene with perfect neutrality, as if taking mental notes.
Utopian calmly set his drink down and stood up. A quiet smile played on his lips.
"A partner should indeed know what to expect from another," he said evenly. "I accept your challenge, Hawkgirl."
A few minutes later, they stood in the center of the Watchtower's training dojo, a circular room with a soft, absorbent floor. The other League members formed a discreet circle around them.
"Rules?" asked Superman, acting as referee.
"No flying, no weapons, no powers," declared Hawkgirl, placing her mace at the edge of the mat. "Just raw strength and technique. Suit you, Utopian?"
"Perfectly," he replied, falling into a subtle stance. His feet were firmly planted, one hand slightly advanced, the other protecting his torso. It was a posture blending the stability of Wing Chun with the preparatory mobility of Bartitsu.
Hawkgirl, with a sharp cry, charged without further ado. Her attack was direct, powerful, a punch meant to knock him out.
Utopian didn't retreat. Instead, he pivoted on his feet, deflecting Hawkgirl's fist with his forearm in a circular, absorbing motion typical of Wing Chun. Simultaneously, his other hand closed around the Thanagarian Amazon's wrist.
Using the momentum of her charge, he twisted his torso, combining the force redirection of Wing Chun with a Bartitsu locking technique designed to unbalance a heavier opponent.
Hawkgirl, surprised by the suddenness and efficiency of the counter, felt herself being thrown forward. She stumbled several meters before regaining her balance, her wings briefly flaring out reflexively.
A murmur of surprise ran through the onlookers. They had expected a display of brute force, not such technical finesse.
"You fight like a scientist," growled Hawkgirl, her gaze now mixed with respect and redoubled aggression.
"I fight with what is necessary," Utopian replied calmly, resuming his stance. "Sometimes, a lever is better than a hammer."
Hawkgirl smiled, a real smile this time, wild and enthusiastic. "Good. Then show me more!"
She charged again, and the real sparring began.