"Fuck you, Shelim," Alex spat. "If you think you can weasel your way out of this after everything you've done."
"Weasel?" The sorcerer snorted and planted his hands on his hips. "I hardly call what I do weaseling. Look, I'm just trying to put my best foot forward after aligning myself with a maniacal evil sorcerer, but if you're not interested…"
He shrugged and turned away.
I rolled my eyes and spoke up. "You've got a Technique Reversal?"
Shelim stared at me for a long moment before bursting into laughter. "Who do you think I am, one of the eye-patch twins? Only they and Artisan have Technique Reversals. Well, and you."
"I didn't think it was that complicated," I muttered.
"Not complicated?" he scoffed. "Fucking nepo baby. I suppose you're not wrong, though. Most techniques aren't built to handle reversals."
Shelim raised his hand and formed a glowing mass of positive energy. He tried infusing it into his technique, which sputtered and flared, red and black lightning trailing from it before the whole thing destabilized and fell apart.
"Electricity's pretty singular in its function and limitations," he explained. "There aren't any natural opposites. Same problem with fire, ice, earth, and whatever the hell that flying violet fist thing is."
"But not inverted force," I said.
Shelim winked. "Now you're getting it."
I had spent months with those assholes, and none of those assholes had bothered to teach me proper Jujutsu theory.
"And what about a Domain Expansion? You have one, don't you?"
Shelim narrowed his eyes. "How— You want me to tutor you, don't you?"
"On sorcery and more than that," I said. "We'll be entering Binding Vows."
"Are you sure?" he asked. "We just found out firsthand there are ways around those."
"No. It's just the one," I said, "and I have no plans of going near him, do you?"
Shelim smirked. "Not for all of the Lithium in Congo. So...Jujutsu tutoring and some lessons on internet sleuthing. I can do both."
"And compensation," I added. "Cash. Ten million upfront, on top of whatever Alex and I earn during the partnership."
He whistled and turned to Alex. "Is that what you want? Money?"
If looks could set people on fire, both of us would have been ash.
"What I want is to never have met you, you colossal waste of oxygen," she snapped. Then she turned to me and sighed, disappointed. "I'm already in bed with the devil, so I might as well make the most of it. What I really want is protection. Absolute protection against anyone and anything that comes for me, and that includes both of you."
I wasn't the least bit surprised or offended.
Shelim gave her a nod of approval. "Now that's a pragmatic response. All the smarts in the world won't save you when you're staring down a hungry Lion. I'll take it you want a vow just to make sure."
"Naturally," Alex said.
"What you're asking for is impossible," he replied. "Both of us are constantly growing, and even big hitters on top of the food chain, like Superman, have people they're afraid to fight. What I can promise is a superhuman body. Stronger, faster, durable enough to put you on equal footing with the weaker members of the Justice League."
She glanced my way for guidance, still angry.
"You'll be able to tear through concrete like it's glass, outrun sports cars, and hold your ownin a fight against us...momentarily. You won't find a better deal unless you're willing to crawl into bed with the devil herself."
I treated her with the same respect she'd always treated me with. I only hoped she was smart enough not to seriously consider Artisan.
"Fine," she said with a scowl, "but if you think I'm entering a soul contract without going over the fine print a hundred times, you're insane."
"Let's change venues," Shelim said. "I've got a safehouse in the Midwest. They'll never think to look for us there."
Shelim casually walked past me through the hole I had blasted into the wall. Alex and I followed.
—
Priya's POV
The words turned to ash in my mouth.
I had expected many things from the Justice League: overwhelming power, tactical superiority, effective countermeasures. What I had not anticipated was them striking at the most fundamental pillar of sorcery itself.
Binding Vows.
It felt like someone had driven a hammer into my gut. I stumbled back, winded and nauseated, and then reality crashed down around me.
George reacted first. His attacks visibly hitched, and his eyes widened in realization. The invisible chain that had restrained him for longer than he could remember, since before he understood what restraint even meant, snapped.
He reacted like an animal raised in captivity and suddenly freed.
He tested the air.
The atmosphere compressed, and George crossed several blocks in an instant, a sphere of red energy forming in his palm. He flicked it at Zatara, who had only just returned from the dead, body alight in gold. Several buildings vanished in a bloom of repulsive red force, along with the magician he was meant to kill.
Hundreds died without ceremony.
My jaw dropped.
Artisan had been explicit about acceptable casualty ranges—well under a hundred. George exceeded that limit in a single strike while trying to fulfill one of the mission's primary objectives.
With Zatara gone, the mission should've proceeded smoothly, but he'd somehow, impossibly, managed to bounce back from having his heart ripped out.
It was a feat I would've expected from somebody on Artisan's level.
Chains of gold erupted from every direction and wrapped around George, forcing him to grit his teeth in pain. Clones manifested from thin air, each wielding a chain. Zatara looked different. He was glad in a dark-blue body suit, a golden cape, some kind of stylized belt with the same color, and a helmet I recognized and dreaded.
Dr. Fate.
Of course.
That explained the boost in power.
Still, to breach Limitless that casually...
It meant they had prepared for this exact scenario. Zatara was supposed to become Fate.
And thanks to the nullification of our binding Vows, every human in my network was free. That was a substantial number of the hostages. Artisan held a third, the rest were sprinked througout Alex's, George's, Ming's, and Gina's network.
In essence, we just lost our leverage.
Shit.
In my peripheral vision, I saw Shelim bolt.
Freed from vows, he moved quickly and decisively, fleeing from the devolving situation, and my own body followed suit, operating on pure instinct.
A shortsword left my scabbard and flew toward Canary's throat. She was the softest target. Superboy reacted, but not quickly enough.
Blood gushed down her neck.
Batman turned too slowly, and the Martian reached for me with telekinesis, but not before I hurled my second blade into the weak point of the collar restraining Kyle.
The metal warped just enough to fail.
Kyle detonated immediately, releasing a wave of telekinetic force that blew the top section of the building apart.
I drifted backward through the debris, relatively unharmed, and landed on a street corner before sprinting. Each stride carried me dozens of meters.
Martian Manhunter appeared behind me within seconds and began closing the distance. I lengthened my claws, adjusted my modified biology, and slashed through a load-bearing wall of a nearby building.
The structure collapsed.
People died instantly, crushed beneath it.
I did not stop running.
Martian Manhunter stayed behind to rescue survivors while I pushed farther away. Buildings erupted with flames, violet fists punched into the sky, and human screams echoed into the night, but I kept moving, placing one foot in front of the other.
Artisan's protocols demanded that none of us be captured alive. Even with implants that resisted mental intrusion and brains altered for resilience, every mind broke eventually.
The Justice League might not have the stomach for torture, but with this level of collateral damage, the government might just step in.
In that sense, killing them would have been merciful.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
George, Alex, Ade, and Ming were family. I had watched them grow up, change, and trained and treated them for over a decade.
Leaving them behind hurt more than I could put into words. It was like a piece of me stayed with them.
But this way, there was still hope, however small.
After Lily's death, I'd sworn I would never lose anyone again, but it was only after Zatara's spell that I could start to keep that promise to myself and Lily.
Artisan and I had no future. I shared her vision, but I couldn't abide her methods.
Lily didn't need to die, especially not to rescue the son of a man she butchered. Did she expect social conditioning and manipulation to erase that pain?
I knew better than most that it wouldn't.
If I wanted my family back, I would have to go it alone, and that meant finding help wherever I could.
And I knew exactly where to start.
That roach, Shelim.
My stomach twisted at the thought of him.
He was going to enjoy this far too much.
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