"What the... how the hell are you still here?" Wally blurted out.
It was August 3rd, and I had just gotten back to the Cave after a forced break from hero work—Wonder Woman's orders. She thought I needed time to "fix" my killing intent after Batman's oh-so-colorful report.
The atmosphere was heavy. Everyone was still reeling from Batman's relentless mission debriefs, his cold protocols grinding away at morale. Kid Flash, of course, was the most pissed about me. Not surprising, given the Bane incident.
"Well," I said casually, leaning against the railing, "I didn't actually kill anybody on U.S. soil, so I'm not a criminal here. And the government of Santa Prisca…" I gave a shrug, "declined to press charges or request extradition. So, I'm still a free man and therefore still a hero."
Wally's jaw dropped.
"You see, Wally," I continued with a grin, "getting away with murder is easy. You just have to do it in places where nobody cares, and to people nobody likes. Or carefully dispose of the body with acid, bleach, and maybe a little fire. Always have an alibi. No documented reason to want your victim dead."
The color drained from Wally's face. His look was two parts disgust, one part terrified. He even took a step back.
"So… you're still on the team because… why?" he asked suspiciously.
"I helpfully pointed out," I said with a chuckle, "that without League oversight, there's just no telling what I might do."
That little conversation had left an interesting mark on most League members—except Wonder Woman and Black Canary. Those two were saints. Actual saints. And coincidentally (or maybe not), they were the only ones who didn't treat me like a rabid attack dog disguised as a teenager.
"You know what? I'm done talking to you," Wally sighed, throwing up his hands. In a blink, he zipped off.
"Yeah, well fuck you too, you ADD-riddled, tactless, rash, piece of shit," I muttered under my breath.
The others, at least, I could tolerate. Robin didn't like me, but his Bat-training kept him professional. M'gann was a sweetheart—naïve and cutely stereotypical teenager, but harmless. Superboy and I mostly exchanged grunts of acknowledgment. Aqualad was pleasant, tactically sharp, and honestly the closest thing to someone I respected here.
But Wally… Kid Flash. Every time he opened his cow shit-riddled soundhole, I wanted to unleash [Devouring Swarm] and let him be devour. And scream putangina mo in Tagalog while I was at it.
I closed my eyes, breathing in deep, counting to ten. My mind automatically shifted into a roll call of League weaknesses I'd memorized. Information I'd need, just in case the day ever came where they decided I belonged in a cell instead of on the field.
[Recognized, Superboy. B-04] the Zeta tube's computer announced.
Sure enough, everyone's favorite scowling clone stomped out of the light, marching straight through Kaldur and Wally's holographic air hockey game. Way to be an ass, Superboy.
"Everybody ready for training?" Black Canary's voice rang out as she strode in, J'onn J'onzz himself walking beside her.
"Uncle J'onn!" M'gann squealed, rushing into his arms.
"M'gann," J'onn smiled warmly, returning her hug. "I was in the area and thought I'd stop by, see how you were getting along."
"Stick around," Black Canary called after Superboy, who looked ready to stalk off. "Class is in session."
She slid off her black leather jacket, revealing a fresh bandage wrapped tight around her upper left arm.
"I'm proud to be your teacher, and I'll be throwing a lot at you," she said, wincing slightly as she rotated her shoulder. "Everything I've learned from my teachers, and my own mistakes."
"What happened?" M'gann asked, eyes wide, pointing at the bandage.
"The job," Canary replied lightly.
"Combat is about control," she continued. "Putting the battle on your terms. Always act. Never react. I'll need a sparring partner."
"Yeah, right here!" Wally shouted, puffing out his chest. He flicked a banana peel into the trash and swaggered into the ring.
"After this, I'll show you my moves," he winked.
Oh, this was going to be good.
Without warning, Black Canary jabbed at his face. Wally reflexively blocked, arms up—his line of sight gone. In an instant, she swept his legs. He hit the mat with a grunt, air leaving his lungs in a messy wheeze.
It wasn't the kind of brutal thing I'd have done, but it was still cathartic to watch.
"Ugh, hurts so good," he coughed, trying to play it off.
"Good block," Canary said, helping him up. "But did anyone see what he did wrong?"
"Ooh, ooh!" Robin called. "He hit on teacher and got served?"
"Dude!" Wally barked, arms flailing in outrage.
"He was unprepared for combat initiation," I said flatly, "and when he blocked your punch, he also blinded himself. That allowed you to sweep him. Amateur mistake. Over-reliance on powers. Common in upper-tier metas."
"Correct," Canary nodded.
"Oh please," Superboy scoffed. "With my powers, the battle is always on my terms."
"Incorrect," I cut in smoothly, my voice flat and absolute. "You think your powers make you untouchable, but they're also your biggest liabilities. Let me paint the picture for you, Superman Lite."
Superboy's glare sharpened, but I kept going.
"Your enhanced senses make you hypersensitive. Sonic weapons, high-frequency pulses, flashbangs—things most soldiers can shrug off would reduce you to a staggering mess. That's at least four seconds of blindness and disorientation, four seconds where an enemy can slit your throat, drive a meta-material blade through your eye socket, or jam one through your ear canal straight into your brain. Kryptonite isn't even necessary. Just clever planning."
He stiffened, but I leaned in closer, relentless.
"Then there's magic. You've got zero resistance to it. A simple bullet etched with an enchantment would kill you just like it would a normal human. Not rare if you know where to shop, and trust me—your enemies will. You fight like you're invulnerable. But you're not. You're just a bigger target."
I let my words hang for a moment, before delivering the next blow.
"And if Cadmus had access to Superman's DNA, what makes you think they couldn't engineer a biological weapon tailored specifically to you? Aerosolized kryptonite particles, nanites that destabilize your cellular structure, even something as crude as a chemical that destabilizes your solar absorption. You'd go down before you even realized what hit you."
I began circling him now, like a predator dissecting prey.
"And don't even get me started on your fighting skills. Watching you throw hands is… painful. Haymakers, predictable footwork, telegraphed strikes—it's like watching a drunk brawler. When you fought Bane, it wasn't skill that carried you. It was raw power. You're Superman Discount. A pale imitation relying on brute strength, hoping intimidation will do the rest."
The words landed harder than any punch.
Superboy's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. For the first time, I saw hesitation in his eyes. Doubt creeping in where blind confidence used to be.
I tilted my head, my tone almost mocking. "Battle's always on your terms? No. The battle's on the terms of whoever's smart enough to exploit your blind spots. And right now? You've got more blind spots than a rookie on his first night patrol."
The room went still.
I sighed. I'd studied the Justice League as obsessively as I could — late nights hunched over the Cave's slow terminal, digging through old mission logs, press clips, and anything the public net would let me see. I needed to be ready in case the League ever decided the cheaper option was a cell, not a cape.
Before Wonder Woman pulled me into the league, I forced myself to learn. Limited access to the Internet and a handful of science journals became my curriculum. I trained until my nose bled and the lights blurred. Preparedness wasn't a hobby; it was an insurance policy.
Silence. M'gann blinked nervously. Robin's expression was unreadable. Wally looked ready to puke.
"Does anybody else find it disturbing," Wally muttered, "that Attano apparently knows three ways to kill Superman?"
I grinned, stepping onto the mat before anyone could object. "Preparedness, information, and the will to act on it. That's my motto."
"Alright Batman Jr. You really think you can beat me?" Black Canary asked, her own smile mirroring mine
"Heh would you like to know?" I replied.