"Grab and run, how exciting!"
Jack Kadere laughed as a mob of furious men shouted and chased after him through the crowded street. With a struggling woman slung over his shoulder, he vaulted clean over a police car that had just screeched to a halt. The startled officers scrambled out, but Jack was already gone—slipping back into the shadowy alley he had come from.
Then, without hesitation, Jack leapt upward.
He couldn't quite fly—not yet—but thanks to the powers he had copied from Diana, a jump that high was child's play. His body shot past the windows, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished onto the rooftops above.
The mob poured into the alley a second later, stopping dead in their tracks.
"What the hell?" one gasped. "It's a dead end!"
"Where'd he go?"
They exchanged bewildered looks, none daring to say out loud what they all thought—that no ordinary man could have disappeared like that.
Meanwhile, on the opposite rooftop, Kate had already broken away from the crowd. She slipped through the building's stairwell and emerged onto the roof, hurrying toward where the Disciple, their cloaked ship, lay hidden from human sight. The moment her hand brushed against its surface, the cloaking field shimmered and peeled back like glass, revealing the hatch. Kate let out a sigh of relief and climbed inside.
"You're back," Jack said casually, glancing over his shoulder.
The kidnapped woman was now tied to a chair, wrapped tightly in the Lasso of Truth, her eyes still closed. Jack turned fully to Kate, flashing his usual smirk.
"Master, you…" Kate hesitated, unsure how to put her thoughts into words.
"Occasionally running around keeps the blood pumping," Jack interrupted with a chuckle. "Besides, it's good exercise. Keeps the figure sharp. If you got out of shape, I might not want you anymore."
Kate froze, lips parting in disbelief. Then she caught herself and forced a stiff nod. "…I understand."
She truly didn't know if Jack meant it as a joke. He was unpredictable enough that if he ever decided he didn't want her around, he might very well send her back to her original fate… or worse. After all, who likes sharing their prized possessions with others—even if they don't intend to keep them?
A groan from the chair drew their attention.
The woman stirred, eyes fluttering open. The moment she realized she was bound, panic flared across her face. She struggled against the glowing rope and shouted in anger, "Let me go, you bastard!"
"Relax," Jack said lightly, crouching before her. His grin widened. "I'm not a bad person."
If there had been background music playing, she would've sworn it shifted darkly at that moment. She nearly spat at him: Don't lie—the music changed when you spoke!
"What's your name?" Jack asked softly.
"Laura… Laura Juspeczyk," she blurted, wincing. Her eyes darted to the rope burning against her wrists, terror flashing across her face. "What… what did you do to me? Why can't I stop talking—?"
"Silk Spectre II?" Jack interrupted smoothly.
Laura stiffened. "…Yes. How do you know that?"
"Looks like I've found the right person."
Jack's smile deepened. The Watchmen—an infamous team formed of Doctor Manhattan, Rorschach, Ozymandias, The Comedian, Nite Owl, and Silk Spectre. Among them, she was the only woman, having inherited her mother's mantle. The rose among thorns.
"Where's Doctor Manhattan?" Jack asked without delay.
Laura's lips trembled, her voice breaking under the rope's power. "He… he left Earth. No one knows where he is."
Jack's expression sharpened. "When? And why didn't I see anything about it in the reports?"
"After he became what he is… Manhattan gained the ability to see the future," Laura confessed through gritted teeth. Sweat beaded her brow as she fought to resist, but the lasso allowed no lies. "He knew… someday, someone would come searching for him. That they would twist his powers to bring disaster to the world. So… so he left. He left before that person could find him. That person is… you, isn't it?"
Her voice cracked as the truth spilled out against her will.
Jack froze, frowning.
Doctor Manhattan's powers were vast, but precognition had always been one of the most unnerving. This wasn't like Gideon aboard the Waverider, or the Time Masters analyzing diverging timelines. Their methods could only predict after deviations occurred, mapping consequences after the fact. Manhattan, however, could stand outside of time itself—seeing the ripple before the stone even hit the water.
He was always one step ahead.
Jack exhaled sharply, irritation flickering across his face. He had come with high hopes, but instead left with disappointment. Manhattan had abandoned Earth early—because of him. That explained the complete absence of reports or sightings.
Jack had originally hoped to draw Manhattan into a confrontation with the Soviet Firestorm—testing whether Manhattan's sheer presence could unravel the unstable nuclear matrix within Firestorm with a mere flick of his hand. Jack's ultimate wish was still simple: world peace. But now, it seemed unlikely. If Manhattan had already departed Earth, who knew where he had gone? To Mars, as in the Watchmen's story? Or somewhere farther still? If he could leave the Moon early, he could just as easily abandon Mars.
With a sigh, Jack dismissed the notion and pulled the Lasso of Truth away from Laura. He gave a casual wave of his hand. "You can go."
But Laura wasn't the type to walk away quietly. Freed from the lasso, she lashed out in fury, her stiletto heel flashing as she kicked at Jack.
"You think you can just kidnap me, talk about Dr. Manhattan, and then wave me off like nothing happened?" she snapped, her voice dripping with outrage.
Her heel struck Jack's arm with a sharp crack. But instead of recoiling, Jack caught her leg in motion and with a flick of strength tossed her across the street.
Bang!
Laura hit the pavement hard, groaning as the air left her lungs. Wide-eyed, she pushed herself back to her feet, staring at Jack with shock and fury.
This strength… this calmness… who was this man?
"Who exactly are you?!" she demanded, falling into a defensive stance.
Jack shook his head with a weary smile. "Always the same question. Who, who, who. You wouldn't know me even if I told you. Here's the truth—you can't do everything you hope to do, so focus on what you can do."
Laura frowned, her frustration deepening. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Jack translated bluntly, "you can't beat me. So walk away."
Her eyes narrowed, anger flaring hotter. With a sharp motion, Laura stripped off her trench coat, revealing her dark combat gear beneath.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "What now? Planning to fight me half-dressed?"
The echo of her heels clicked against the ground as she darted forward with sudden speed. Laura was no amateur—trained from childhood by her mother, hardened through years of missions with the Watchmen, her hand-to-hand skills were formidable. Against any normal opponent, she would have overwhelmed them.
But Jack Kadere wasn't normal.
Her punches and kicks rained down like a storm, but Jack blocked each one with a single hand, his expression flat, even bored, as if swatting away gnats.
Bang!
Her final strike was knocked aside, sending her stumbling back several steps. She glared at him, breathing hard, her pride and temper in ruins.
"Do you even know what life is?" Jack suddenly asked, his tone calm, almost philosophical.
Laura hesitated, caught off guard.
Jack answered his own question with a faint smirk. "Life is a slap after another—meant to wake people up."
His eyes bored into hers.
"Well then," Jack asked softly, "are you awake?"