The void. It wasn't fire, heaven, or hell—it was computation. Equations hummed in the dark, strings of code whispered logic instead of words. It was a black ocean of data and half-remembered thoughts. I tried to move, but motion didn't exist. Every attempt to think rippled through the darkness.
Then lines of light formed before me.
Host found.
And then, suddenly, I woke.
I was in a pod filled with a green fluid. The door hissed open, and I fell. My lungs burned with air that tasted sterile and metallic. Pain radiated through my body—not sharp, not agonizing, but enough to make me aware I was alive.
The lab was harsh, bright, humming with electricity and some alien pulse I didn't yet understand. I tried to speak, but only a dry rasp emerged.
Then: ding~
SYSTEM ACTIVATED.
A dashboard unfolded in my mind. Numbers, stats, probabilities, schematics, energy flows threaded through my thoughts, painting a perfect map of my existence.
INT (Intellect): SSS Rank – fully active, fully usable
MAG (Magic): SSS Rank potential – sensed, untouchable
PHY (Physicality): B – normal human
TEC (Tech): B+ – above-average for intellect
CHA (Charisma): B+ – above average
DUR (Durability): B+ – slightly above human
Every pulse, every vibration, every potential outcome of my actions was highlighted, quantified, waiting for me to manipulate. I flexed my fingers experimentally. The pod responded immediately—circuits adjusted, lights flickered, the air hummed differently.
Magic. I felt it—far off, a pull at the edges of perception. Strong, alive… untouchable. The system cataloged it: MAG: sensed, potential detected, unusable at present.
I inhaled, tasting metal. My body wasn't just human—it was precise. Engineered. Reflexes faster than natural. Muscles primed for movement I hadn't yet tested.
I cataloged myself. This body. This mind. These abilities.
Observation first. Action second. Survival always.
The pod door slid fully open. A human appeared—frail, pale, eyes wide, clipboard in hand.
"Wait—stop! You can't—this isn't part of the protocol!" the scientist shouted.
I watched. Every microexpression, every shift of weight, every breath. My system ran the calculations: probability of threat—high. Probability of survival if I act—high. Outcome likelihoods measured and cataloged.
He lunged at me with the stylus. Reflexes kicked in automatically. I caught his wrist mid-swing, twisting until the metal clattered harmlessly to the floor.
Predictable. Weak. Human.
His fear spiked; sweat ran down his temple. He tried to run. I didn't hesitate. Movement, calculation, perfect execution. By the time he hit the floor, it was over. Not a scream, not a struggle—just stillness.
I exhaled slowly. System logged: INT experience +2%, TEC +1%, CHA +1% (influence over observer), survival instinct +3%.
I moved through the lab, fingers brushing over consoles, wires, and blinking devices. Every artifact hummed with energy, mechanical or magical. My system highlighted what I could manipulate, sense, and what remained untouchable.
Then it hit me: This wasn't my world. I was reborn here.
I explored cautiously, noting security cameras, patrol paths, and energy flows. And that's when I realized who else was here: Superboy, Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad.
Every step was cataloged. Every pulse of magic logged. Sparks danced as I bypassed a minor lock with precise wiring tweaks. The system rewarded me: TEC +2%, INT +1%, MAG potential +1%.
Finally, I found a small alcove—reinforced, partially hidden behind a console and a containment field. Perfect for observation.
Observation first. Action second.
I crouched there, muscles relaxed but ready. The Young Justice team arrived not long after, their focus entirely on Superboy.
Superboy—muscles taut, every movement calculated. Obedient. Controlled. Powerful, but… predictable. The team flanked him, energy flashing, acrobatics precise, coordination tight.
I cataloged everything: reaction timing, team communication, posture, subtle expressions. The system logged every detail: probabilities, strengths, weaknesses, potential for influence.
Then, a scanner flickered toward me—a shadow, a reflection, a heartbeat too steady. Superboy's eyes narrowed first, then the others.
"Who's there?" one called.
I leaned back casually, letting just enough of my presence show. A tilt of the head, a small smirk—subtle, enough to intrigue. System noted: CHA influence +3%, curiosity +5%.
They didn't know what I could do.
And that was exactly how I wanted it.
I am unnamed. I am dangerous. And now I know what I am capable of