It had been a week since they returned to Star City. They had been laying low for a while, letting the heat die down.
For Zane, the silence was welcome, it has given him some time plan his next move against the light and also try and remember ever plot point he could about Young Justice.
Its been years since hes watched that show, even then he definitley did not watch it all. Maybe just bits and pieces, It couldn't be hepled, it clashed with Dragon Ball Z and it was obvious which one he would be watching.
Zane had spent the week mapping out plot points he remembered, that could be usefull. Anything he could use to his advantage.
Not that it really mattered, since he has the power to Rewind after all.
He also hasn't been out being a 'hero' so much anymore—which led to whats currently going on...
---
Artemis had dragged him out into the open. A drug deal had been reported in one of the warehouses down by the old shipping docks. She had insisted on intervening immediately.
"Look, I know you've been laying low, but Star City doesn't stop just because you want a vacation," Artemis said as they approached the warehouse district. Her hood was down, bow slung across her back, eyes sharp as they scanned the shadows. "You could use the fresh air, come on. We split up, hit them from both sides. Quick in, quick out."
Zane adjusted his visor, activating the HUD overlay that highlighted heat signatures and movement in real time. The Robo-Arm hummed quietly, ready for action. "Copy that, 'Boss'. You take left, I'll cover the right. Keep comms open."
"Always. Try itvwith less attitude next time," Artemis jokingly said, stepping into a dark alley before slipping through a side door.
Zane sighed before using his Grappling hook mode to pull himself to ontop of the building.
Honestly, ever since he awakened his Echo form, taking down low level crooms like these kinda felt....bullying? Easy?Beneath him?
Anyways, its felt like being level 100 than beating up those still in the Novice Village...kinda boring...
---
Inside the warehouse, the air was thick with the smell of rust, oil, and sweat. Crates of contraband were stacked in irregular towers, casting jagged shadows across the concrete floor. A low murmur of voices bounced off the walls as thugs negotiated shipments, oblivious to the approaching storm.
Zane moved like a ghost. He swept a thug off his feet with a swing of the Robo-Arm, spinning him into a stack of crates with a satisfying crash. Another man charged him with a knife; before his arm was grabbed and thrown over Zanes shoulder, onto the concrete floor with a thud!
Zane rolled behind cover, eyes scanning for the next threat.
"Seriously, Z?" Artemis asked through comms, keeping up a steady stream of motion as she incapacitated two guards with precision arrows. "Where've you been the last week?"
"Planning," he replied smoothly, catching a broken pipe and using it to vault over a stack of crates. "Gotta make sure I'm not unprepared."
"Planning what, you can talk to me you know!" she asked, ducking under a swinging metal bar. She was clearly frustrated at how Zane was keeping her at a distance.
"Just preparing, you never know when something unexpected might ha..."
Before he could answer, his danger sense screamed. Something was coming from behind — fast, precise, lethal.
BANG!!
A hockey stick slammed toward him with brutal force. Zane barely reacted in time, using the Robo-Arm to block it. The force sent him flying across the floor, skidding into a crate that cracked under his weight. He scrambled to his feet, heart hammering, and scanned for the attacker.
"What the hell!!??"
On the other side, Artemis was fending off her own ambusher. A figure moved with uncanny fluidity, striking with perfect timing. She barely deflected a blow from a metal rod, stumbling backward. Every strike was deliberate, every move designed to provoke, disorient, and intimidate.
"Artemis, are you alright?! Whats going on!?" Zane's voice was sharp, slicing through the earpiece.
"I'm fine!" she hissed, pivoting to counter another strike. "Someone with a freaky Japanese mask is—"
Her words cut off as the warehouse lights flickered violently, followed by a low hum that rattled the metal beams.
"Huh...!"
Comms were down, his visor stopped working and even his Robo-Arm twiched a few times before giving in.
EMP.
"Great," he muttered, tossing the arm aside and drawing Karen, his beautiful pistol he barley used. "Just what I need."
Through the haze and flickering lights, a figure stepped into view. Broad shoulders, combat armor worn but polished, every piece strapped with the precision of a man who lived in war.
A hockey mask covered the mans face. His movements were calm, predatory — not a wasted step, not a wasted breath.
Zane's instantly recognized him...
The masked man tilted his head, grip tightening on the hockey stick he carried as if it were an extension of his arm. The weight of decades of battle radiated off him, an aura that pressed down heavier than the weapon itself.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate. "We finally meet, Zane. The boy who led my daughter astray...."
Sportsmaster.
"Seriously, daddy trouble already!?"
Zane pushed off the floor, dodging a overhead swing from the Hockey staff that actually cracked the floor!
"Ohh, you got a mouth on you don't ya!? Gonna love whipping it into shape!" Sportsmaster said as he went on the offensive.
Relying on danger sense and his own physical prowess, Zane managed to dodge the next attacks as well.
The fight was brutal. Sportsmaster outclassed him in pure skill, every strike designed to test, punish, and control. But Zane managed to evade the worst of it, keeping his head above water by a hair.
...
Meanwhile, Artemis found herself face-to-face with her own opponent.
The woman moved with fluid precision, every step silent, every strike sharp and deliberate. A curved blade flashed in her hand, gleaming under the flickering lights. Her outfit was sleek, dark green and black, designed for both agility and intimidation. A Japanese Ashura mask hid her face. All you could see were her eyes — narrow, focused, and burning with a cruel amusement — told Artemis everything she needed to know.
Artemis barely kept pace. Her arrows and training held her ground, but in hand-to-hand combat the woman pressed every advantage, turning defense into attack with almost casual grace.
"Who are you?" Artemis demanded, bow raised, circling to keep distance.
The woman's eyes crinkled, a smirk hidden beneath. "You should know better than to ask."
She quickly dashed inside Artemis's guard, who narrowly avoiding a slash aimed for her head.
Artemis's stomach sank. 'These moves, they're so familar.'
---
The warehouse erupted into chaos. Crates toppled, metal screeched, and dust filled the air. Zane ducked under a swinging pipe, rolling behind cover and firing Karen, each shot precise, aiming for the kill. Sportsmaster countered with brutal efficiency, managing to block the bullets with his Hockey staff.
"You're fast," Sportsmaster said, pausing just long enough to catch his breath. "But your speed can't outmatch experience. You've made her soft, holding her back. I'm here to fix that."
Zane's visor remained dark, but his mind raced. Every dodge, every counter, every movement relied on his instincts — danger sense guiding him like a sixth sense. He knew Sportsmaster's pattern now, the subtle tells in each swing, the slight shift in his stance before a strike.
Across the warehouse, Artemis was struggling. The masked figures, Cheshire, strikes weren't just physical; they were psychological, designed to break her confidence. Every taunt reminded her of the family she had fought to escape, of the legacy that threatened to consume her.
"You can't hide behind your little boyfriend right now," Cheshire whispered as she lunged forward. "Your all on your own. Poor little girl!"
Artemis's jaw tightened. She could feel the weight of every word. Every attack from Cheshire was a mirror, showing her the doubts she had fought to bury. She blocked a strike, then another, her arms aching, her mind racing to find the opening.
'She's better at hand to hand, I need a opportunity to widen the distance!' Artemis started formulating a plan.
---
The fight dragged on, every second a test of endurance and nerve. Zane was managing, but only barely.
Sportsmaster was a master of controlling the pace, and each moment was designed to counter his fight style!
'He cleary did his research before this attack...which means he should be confident in taking on my Ech Form as well', Zane wasn't that worried though, he wouldn't let a knockoff Deathtroke take him out.
'In that case, let's just skip to the end.' With that thought, a purple energy surrounded his form!
...
Patreaon
/Williamstewart