Chapter 37: The Teachers Batman Called
Two things had surprised Raven today.
The first was Batman contacting her personally.
The second was Batman asking, politely, if she would come to Gotham. The second thing was probably stranger.
Batman could be polite. Raven knew that. She had seen it before. Usually the politeness came out when someone was grieving, injured, traumatized, or approximately thirty seconds away from becoming one of those things. Batman was capable of kindness, despite the careful work he put into making most criminals believe otherwise.
Still, hearing his voice over the communicator say, "Raven. I need your help. If you're available, come to Gotham tonight," without a threat, warning, emergency siren, or explanation attached to it had been enough to make her stare at the communicator for several seconds after the call ended.
Now, hours later, Gotham spread beneath her like the city it was, A City that had forgotten how to sleep.
Raven rode high above it on the back of something that was not truly a bird, though anyone somehow capable of seeing through the concealment spell around her would probably call it one.
The enormous raven beneath her was made from dark magic, its body a shifting construction of black-violet energy and shadow. Its wings stretched wide enough that each slow beat pushed her through the cold night air at speeds that would have made a commercial pilot start asking uncomfortable questions.
She could have teleported. Teleportation would have been faster. Much Faster.
Batman had also asked, repeatedly and with very little humor, that members of the Justice League who possessed teleportation abilities please stop appearing without warning inside the Batcave.
Apparently several years earlier, someone had materialized behind him while he was welding.
Nobody had been seriously injured.
Raven had never learned which hero had done it, and every time she asked, Batman somehow changed the subject.
So tonight she flew, but she honestly did not mind. Gotham was strangely beautiful from above.
Most people would have disagreed with that statement, usually while clutching their wallet and wisely checking the nearest alleyway for movement, but Raven had always found something oddly honest about Gotham at night. Metropolis tried to shine. Central City moved too fast to hide what it was. Gotham sat beneath its clouds and admitted from the beginning that something was wrong with it.
The city glowed beneath a layer of smog, the light from office towers and old apartment buildings spreading through the polluted air in bruised yellows, dirty golds, and occasional flashes of neon. Older gothic buildings rose between newer towers, stone gargoyles watching over streets crowded with brick, steel, and too many secrets.
The air itself had a bitter taste to it.
Industrial smoke. River water. Old rain. Hot asphalt. Chemical exhaust from factories that were absolutely following environmental regulations if anyone from the city happened to ask.
The smell would have bothered most people.
Raven breathed it in. "...I kind of like it." Her magical raven gave a low, questioning croak beneath her. "I know."
The creature dipped a wing. "Don't judge me." Another croak. Raven pulled her hood slightly lower over her face. "Gotham has atmosphere." The magical bird construct apparently disagreed but continued flying.
Below, the river wound through the city like a black ribbon catching scattered pieces of moonlight. Raven followed it, leaving Gotham's denser skyline behind as the buildings gradually thinned and the land became darker.
The river narrowed. Trees thickened. Then she saw the waterfall. Raven leaned slightly forward. Her raven folded its wings. They dove.
The night rushed around her as the magical creature dropped toward the water at a speed that would have sent most people screaming. Raven's cloak flattened against her back, the deep midnight-purple fabric rippling around her while silver sigils along the hem briefly flashed with indigo light.
The waterfall filled her vision. She did not slow down. She did not need to, Raven and the magical bird passed directly through the water without disturbing it.
Not a splash, not even a small ripple.
Magic folded the falling water around them before allowing it to reconnect behind them.
Then came darkness as The cave swallowed them.
Raven's raven dove through a steep shaft behind the waterfall, following a path that would have been suicidal without flight. Rock rushed past on either side, wet stone glittering whenever the faint violet glow from Raven's magic touched it.
The shaft dropped deeper, and then even deeper. Then the magical raven spread its wings. The fall became a glide. Raven leaned toward the cavern wall ahead.
At first glance, it looked completely natural. She knew better.
Halfway along the massive rock face, she lifted one hand and placed her palm against a slightly smoother section of stone.
Something clicked. A thin red line moved across her fingers.
Then her palm. Then her face.
The scanner paused over the gem embedded at the center of her forehead.
A mechanical voice whispered from inside the wall.
"Identity confirmed. Raven."
Stone shifted. A section of the cavern wall separated soundlessly, revealing darkness beyond.
Raven raised one eyebrow. "He updated the scanner." Her raven carried her through.
The opening sealed behind them. Then the enormous cavern opened beneath her.
This was the true Batcave.
Even after everything Raven had seen in her life, there was always something mildly ridiculous about just how much Batman had managed to hide under one house. Sure, a very big and fancy house with alot of land around it, but still just a house.
The cavern stretched farther than the eye could easily follow. Natural stone mixed with steel walkways, reinforced platforms, glass partitions, suspended lights, cables, and technology that probably cost more than several small countries.
The central computer dominated one section of the cave, multiple monitors surrounding a massive main display. Nearby sat the crime lab and forensic stations, each organized with the kind of painful precision Raven associated entirely with Bruce.
Farther away, partially hidden beneath low lighting, rested several vehicles.
The Batmobile.
A smaller armored bike.
Something Raven suspected was either a prototype aircraft or a very aggressive-looking submarine.
She had learned not to ask.
The trophy section had expanded since she had last visited.
Raven recognized several old villain weapons, shattered masks, strange pieces of technology, and at least one giant coin that she had never understood the purpose of but had accepted because Gotham apparently had different rules for interior decoration.
Training spaces had been built deeper into the stone.
Combat platforms. Weight equipment. Simulation areas.
Raven's magical raven descended toward a broad landing platform made from natural stone reinforced with dark metal.
The creature touched down. Its body dissolved beneath her.
Black feathers of magic scattered into smoke and faded before touching the floor.
Raven landed lightly.
For a moment, the only sound was the distant dripping of cave water and the steady hum of machinery.
Batman sat in front of the central computer. Of course he did.
His cape fell behind the chair like part of the darkness itself while his fingers moved across the console at a speed that suggested he had been working since well before Raven entered Gotham airspace.
He looked toward her.
One nod.
"Raven."
She walked closer. "Batman."
He nodded again. Then returned to typing.
Raven stopped. She waited.
Batman kept typing.
Raven's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You asked me to come."
"I know."
"And now that I'm here?"
"One moment."
Raven stared at the back of his cowl. Some things never changed. She reached up and pushed back her hood.
Without the shadow of it covering her face, more of her current costume became visible. Deep midnight-purple remained the dominant color, though the design was far more practical than what she had worn during her younger years. A high-neck reinforced bodysuit fit closely enough to move with her without restricting her spells. Subtle arcane patterns ran through the fabric, nearly invisible until her power touched them.
Her cloak was lighter than it appeared, the matte fabric designed to expand around magical output. Silver sigils had been worked into the edges and gloves, and angular pieces of dark metallic protection rested over her shoulders without interfering with movement.
The gemstone in her forehead glowed faintly.
Her boots were black, armored without being bulky, and the seams running along her leggings occasionally caught light with a faint purple shimmer.
The whole thing managed to look mystical, threatening, practical, and just fashionable enough that Zatanna had approved of it.
Raven pushed the cloak away from one shoulder. Batman was still working.
Someone stepped directly into her personal space and began waving a green hand in front of her face.
Raven blinked.
Once. Then Twice.
Her eyes focused.
A young green woman stood in front of her wearing the enormous smile of someone who had already decided that personal space was temporarily optional.
Raven stared. "M'gann?"
Miss Martian's smile became brighter. "Hi!"
Raven barely got the word out before M'gann wrapped both arms around her.
Raven's body went stiff. Not because she disliked the hug. She simply needed approximately half a second more warning before people touched her.
M'gann squeezed her.
Raven slowly lifted her arms and returned it. "...Hello."
"That's it?" M'gann pulled back enough to look at her. Her current red hair fell loosely around her shoulders, contrasting with her green skin and bright expression. "I haven't seen you in two years."
"It has not been two years."
"It absolutely has."
"One year and eight months."
M'gann stared. Raven stared back.
M'gann smiled again. "You counted."
"No."
"You just gave me the exact amount of time."
"I remembered."
"Raven, that's literally counting with an added spice of difficulty."
Behind them, J'onn J'onzz stood with his arms loosely behind his back.
Martian Manhunter was difficult to overlook.
Tall enough that most human doorframes were technically suggestions, broad-shouldered, muscular, bald, green-skinned, and carrying himself with the calm gravity of someone who could probably throw a tank into low orbit but preferred solving problems by talking first.
His red eyes softened as he looked at the two younger women. "Raven."
She nodded respectfully. "J'onn."
He opened his mouth.
M'gann stepped back into Raven's line of sight. "So what have you been doing?"
J'onn closed his mouth again.
Raven noticed.
M'gann did not. "Mostly magical work."
"Still with the Titans?"
"When needed."
"Still living in that apartment with the giant windows?"
"Yes."
"Still pretending you don't like the little café under your building?"
Raven paused. "I don't know what you're talking about."
M'gann grinned. "You post pictures of the tea."
"I post pictures of books."
"With tea beside them."
"The tea happens to be there."
"Every Tuesday?"
Raven's expression remained flat. "Coincidence."
M'gann laughed. It was easy to forget how much Raven enjoyed being around her.
M'gann had energy, but it was rarely the exhausting kind. Her warmth came naturally, and beneath all that openness was a mind Raven respected enormously. She knew firsthand how much discipline it took for a telepath to be gentle.
M'gann had spent years learning that being able to enter someone's mind did not mean she had the right to.
That mattered. Raven glanced over M'gann's shoulder. "How have you been?"
M'gann's expression softened. "Good. Better, actually. I've been helping with League psychic screening when they need it, doing some outreach work with young metas, and Uncle J'onn has finally stopped correcting the way I organize the kitchen."
J'onn spoke from behind her. "I stopped correcting you because you continued ignoring me."
M'gann turned. "Exactly. Growth."
Raven's mouth twitched.
J'onn shook his head.
"And you?" M'gann asked again.
Raven considered.
"Less world-ending demon activity."
"That's good."
"Very."
"Any normal hobbies?"
"I read."
"That's not new."
"I garden."
M'gann's eyebrows rose. "You garden?"
"Small plants."
"What kind?"
"Herbs. Night-blooming flowers. One cactus."
"What's the cactus called?"
"It doesn't have a name."
M'gann stared at her.
Raven sighed. "Azar."
M'gann's entire face lit up.
"You named your cactus!"
"Please forget that."
"Never."
J'onn's mouth moved with what could almost be called a smile.
Raven looked toward him. "Do not encourage her."
He shook his head. "I said nothing."
"You thought loudly."
His eyebrow rose.
M'gann gasped dramatically. "Look at you picking up Martian habits."
Raven was preparing a response when something at the edge of the cave caught her attention.
A woman sat several yards away.
Raven stopped.
M'gann noticed. "What?"
Raven's eyes remained fixed on the stranger. Except stranger was the wrong word. It took Raven several seconds to understand why the woman had not immediately registered as part of the Batcave.
She did not fit. At all.
Batman had stone platforms, harsh work lights, advanced technology, steel, cables, trophies, weapons, vehicles.
This woman had brought a chair.
Not a Batcave chair. Not some tactical seat. A genuinely comfortable, high-backed chair covered in dark green velvet. Beside it sat a small polished wooden table.
On that table rested a porcelain teacup, saucer, and silver spoon.
Madame Xanadu sat in the chair as though the Batcave had been built around her and her tea break.
Her long black hair fell over her shoulders in a glossy curtain that Raven privately suspected required either ancient magic or a truly unfair hair routine. Deep green eyes watched the room with patient amusement.
Her clothing belonged to no obvious period. Elegant fabrics, dark colors, old jewelry, subtle embroidery. She somehow looked as natural sitting in a cave beneath Wayne Manor as she would have looked inside a palace from five hundred years ago.
Xanadu lifted her teacup. She smiled at Raven.
M'gann followed Raven's gaze. "Oh. Her."
Raven looked at her. "You don't know who she is?"
"No." M'gann lowered her voice. "She was already sitting there when we arrived. I said hello."
J'onn cleared his throat.
M'gann sighed. "Here we go."
J'onn spoke calmly. "You did not simply say hello."
"I was being friendly."
"You asked why she brought furniture."
"It is a reasonable question!"
"You then asked whether Batman knew she'd redecorated."
"I thought it was funny."
"It was rude."
"It was a little funny."
J'onn looked toward Raven as though asking for neutral judgment. Raven did not provide it.
M'gann folded her arms. "If somebody would just tell me who she is, there wouldn't be a problem."
J'onn's expression became suspiciously serene.
M'gann narrowed her eyes. "You know who she is."
"I do."
"And you're not telling me."
"It is not my introduction to make."
M'gann slowly turned toward him.
"Uncle J'onn."
He smiled.
Raven finally spoke. "That is Madame Xanadu."
Xanadu inclined her head. M'gann looked at Raven. Then at Xanadu. Then back at Raven.
"Who is Madame Xanadu?"
Raven looked at her. "Madame Xanadu."
M'gann threw both hands into the air.
"Why does everybody keep doing that?"
From her chair, Xanadu quietly sipped her tea.
Raven walked toward her. "Hello, Madame."
"My dear Raven."
Her voice was soft, old without sounding fragile, carrying the faint rhythm of speech learned across many centuries and updated whenever the modern world demanded it.
Raven inclined her head. "Thank you again for helping me with my mother."
Xanadu gave one slow nod.
That nod somehow managed to communicate reassurance, understanding, a reminder that no debt existed between them, and perhaps a warning that Raven's mother remained exactly as complicated as she remembered.
Raven nodded back.
M'gann stared between them. "Was that entire conversation just two nods?"
"Mostly."
"How?"
Neither woman answered.
M'gann looked at J'onn.
He smiled again.
"I dislike all of you."
"No, you don't," J'onn replied.
"I know."
Raven turned away from Xanadu and looked toward Batman.
He was still typing.
She looked at J'onn. "Do you know why we're here?"
J'onn nodded. Before he could answer, his eyes moved toward Batman. Raven understood. Batman finished what he was doing. His fingers stopped. The cave became noticeably quieter. He stood. That alone changed the room.
M'gann's casual posture straightened. Raven's attention sharpened. J'onn folded his arms.
Madame Xanadu remained exactly as she was, holding her tea.
Batman touched the console. The main screen changed. Four smaller windows vanished. A central file expanded. Three photographs appeared.
The first showed a small Black boy with silver-white hair, silver-grey eyes, round cheeks, and the unmistakably serious expression of a child who had been caught thinking about something he considered more important than whatever the photographer wanted.
Kairo Victor Fugate Wakati.
Beside him appeared a pale young girl with auburn hair, sharp green eyes, and an expression halfway between suspicious and irritated.
Rebecca Langstrom.
The third photograph showed an older girl with dark hair, pale skin, and eyes that carried far too much history.
Ace.
Batman looked at them. "These are the main reason you're here."
M'gann stepped closer to the screen. Raven studied the children. J'onn said nothing. Xanadu took another sip.
Batman selected Ace's image first. "You know her."
Raven's expression changed slightly. M'gann's smile disappeared. J'onn's eyes grew more serious. No explanation about Cadmus was necessary. All of them had history with Cadmus. Different histories. None pleasant.
Batman moved past Ace for the moment and selected Kairo.
"This is Kairo Victor Fugate Wakati. Five years old. Grandson of Dr. Elias Wakati."
M'gann looked toward Xanadu. "The time scientist?"
"Yes," Batman said.
Raven looked carefully at Kairo's picture. There was something odd about it. Even through a photograph she could feel a faint wrongness around him, though wrongness was not quite accurate.
He felt... layered.
Batman continued.
"Five years ago, an unexplained temporal event stopped universal chronal progression."
M'gann slowly turned toward him. "The full stop?"
"Yes."
Raven's eyes narrowed. She remembered. Anyone with enough magical sensitivity had remembered. For one impossible moment, existence had become silent.
Batman touched the display. Kairo's image enlarged. "He caused it."
M'gann stared.
Raven looked toward Xanadu. The ancient woman did not react. That told Raven enough. "He was an infant?" Raven asked.
"Yes."
M'gann blinked several times. "An infant stopped time across the universe."
"Yes."
"Accidentally."
"Yes."
M'gann looked at J'onn. He remained calm. "Why are you not reacting more?"
"I reacted when I learned."
"How much?"
J'onn considered. "Internally."
M'gann sighed.
Batman brought up another set of images.
Kairo beside Beryl Hutchinson. Kairo seated across from Madame Xanadu. Kairo holding a wooden training sword. Kairo surrounded by chalk circles and glowing magical symbols.
"Kairo has been under instruction for most of his life. Beryl Hutchinson, Squire, has handled practical education, physical conditioning, swordsmanship, and basic combat preparation. Madame Xanadu handles magical education."
M'gann's eyes moved toward Xanadu. "For how long?"
"Five years," Batman said.
"And they've both lived with him?"
"At the Wakati mansion."
"All five years?"
"Yes."
M'gann looked at Raven. Raven looked back. That was a long time. Not compared to beings like J'onn or Xanadu. But for a human child, five years was essentially his entire life.
M'gann looked toward Kairo's picture again. "He's got to be pretty special."
Madame Xanadu finally set down her tea. "He is."
Everyone looked toward her.
Her voice was quiet. "Kairo is very special. I say that not because of what he may become, nor because of the power sleeping beneath his little hands. He is special because he is Kairo."
A smile touched her face. "But he is young. Painfully young, sometimes. He still complains when Beryl serves vegetables before dessert. He hides sweets in places he believes I cannot find. He threatens Aurielis by putting her watch in his mouth when she calls his journal a diary."
M'gann blinked. "Who is Aurielis?"
"Another story."
"Of course it is."
Xanadu's smile deepened. "The coming years will not be gentle. I have seen enough possibility to know that much. His life will become more complicated, not less. I have grown very fond of him."
Raven felt it before Xanadu said anything more. Emotion rolled gently from the ancient sorceress. Love. Old, careful, powerful love. Not romantic. Not possessive. Family.
Raven's eyes widened slightly.
Xanadu had lived long enough to bury kingdoms. To outlive friends. To watch generations pass. And still, somehow, this tiny boy had become her nephew in every way that mattered.
"He is family," Xanadu continued. "As are Elias, Beryl, Anika, and the others in that strange house. I intend to see him become the best version of himself that this world permits."
Raven understood. Batman nodded.
Then he removed Kairo's image from the center and selected Rebecca.
The six-year-old girl's file expanded.
M'gann moved closer. "Langstrom."
"Yes."
Batman pulled up medical scans. "Granddaughter of Abraham Langstrom. Daughter of Kirk and Francine Langstrom."
M'gann winced. "I know those names."
"So do I," Raven said.
Batman continued.
"Rebecca inherited altered traits connected to the Man-Bat serum. Her current baseline abilities include enhanced hearing, echolocation, heightened physical senses, unusual psychic sensitivity, and transformation."
Xanadu lifted two fingers.
Magic gathered above her hand. The image changed. Not a recording. A memory.
The view appeared low to the ground, beneath a table at Gotham Zoo.
Kairo's memory.
Rebecca's body began changing. M'gann's expression shifted from curiosity to alarm. Raven remained still. Bone moved beneath skin. Rebecca grew. Wings tore outward. A giant bat creature erupted from beneath the table.
The magical memory froze.
M'gann whispered, "Oh."
Batman changed the display to Rebecca's projected capabilities.
"Her transformed state follows many of the characteristics documented in Kirk and Francine."
Data appeared beside her.
Superhuman strength.
Enhanced durability.
Flight.
Echolocation.
Extreme hearing sensitivity.
Claws.
Fangs.
Heightened agility.
Sonic projection.
Animal empathy involving bats.
Then more appeared.
"Rebecca also shows capabilities neither parent demonstrated at their older age."
Batman opened audio waveforms.
"She can shape sound deliberately."
M'gann leaned toward the screen. "How deliberately?"
"Enough to shatter reinforced glass at controlled frequencies."
"At six?"
"Yes."
Another waveform appeared.
"She may eventually develop full audiokinesis. Generation, amplification, redirection, suppression. Potential defensive barriers based on compressed vibration."
Raven studied the information. "Sound can be physically dangerous long before she learns precision."
Batman nodded. "Low-frequency attacks could cause internal injury. High-frequency attacks could affect targets without being audible to most humans. Her transformed state may increase the range."
M'gann frowned. "And she has telepathy too?"
"Developing." That got her attention.
Batman changed the display.
"Rebecca's psychic abilities include involuntary thought reception, emotional sensing, mental connections, and possible psychic projection. Her power increases when emotionally overwhelmed."
M'gann folded her arms slowly. "What kind of boundaries has she been taught?"
"Basic ones. Mostly by necessity."
"Meaning she hears things she doesn't want to hear."
"Frequently."
M'gann's face softened. She knew that life. She remembered being younger, when minds felt close enough to touch all the time.
Raven understood from another direction. Hearing everyone. Feeling everyone. Never being completely alone inside yourself.
Batman continued. "Madame Xanadu has also confirmed magical sensitivity."
Raven looked toward Xanadu.
The older woman nodded. "Faint. Untrained. But real."
"So she's psychic, magically sensitive, has enhanced senses, and turns into a giant bat," M'gann summarized.
Batman nodded.
M'gann looked at J'onn. "That's a lot for six."
"Yes," he replied.
Raven's eyes remained on the child. "How stable is she emotionally?"
Batman paused. "Better than she was."
"That wasn't my question."
"No."
Raven looked toward him.
Batman met her gaze. "She has trauma. Sensory overload. Fear of transformation. Anger related to her parents. She is also intelligent, loyal, protective, and willing to ask for help when she trusts the person offering it."
Raven nodded slowly. That mattered. Batman moved on. Ace's image filled the screen. Nobody needed the history lesson. Batman still gave them the current facts. "Her condition has changed."
M'gann's eyes sharpened. "How?"
"She's no longer experiencing the same neurological deterioration."
Raven glanced at Xanadu. Then toward where Kairo's photograph had been.
Batman noticed. "Kairo intervened."
"With time?" Raven asked.
"Partially."
That answer was suspicious enough to tell Raven there was more. She did not push.
Batman began listing Ace's current capabilities.
"Telepathy. Telekinesis. Perception manipulation. Psychic barriers. Reality alteration."
M'gann stared. "Reality alteration."
"Yes."
"At what level?"
"Unknown."
The answer was somehow worse. Batman continued. "Her previous abilities operated largely through overwhelming psychic force. The changes following Kairo's intervention appear to have improved control. She can now alter perception with greater precision."
A simulated brain map appeared.
"Instead of broad psychological collapse, she may be capable of modifying specific emotional responses, dampening fear, redirecting anger, possibly changing the emotional tone attached to selected memories."
M'gann's expression became serious. "That's ethically dangerous."
"Extremely."
"Even if she's trying to help."
"Especially if she's trying to help."
M'gann nodded. That was exactly the kind of mistake young telepaths made. You see someone hurting. You know you could reach inside and make it stop. So you do. Then eventually you forget to ask whether the pain belonged to you to change.
Batman continued. "Her telekinesis has become more precise. She can assign stable directional movement to objects rather than continuously guiding them."
"Vector control," M'gann said.
"That's the theory."
Raven studied another diagram. "Psychic constructs?"
"Very new."
The screen showed rough projections of barriers, shaped forms, and weapons. "She may eventually be capable of creating semi-physical constructs tied to mental energy."
Raven looked at M'gann. M'gann looked back. Neither woman spoke. They both understood now. Batman did not need to ask why he had called them. He still continued. Ace's image shrank. A fourth picture moved onto the screen.
A little blonde girl in a carefully coordinated dress and small crown smiled toward the camera as though someone had just informed her she owned the building behind the photographer.
Penelope Penderghast.
"Seven," Batman said.
M'gann looked at the crown.
"She wears that normally?"
Xanadu said, "Often."
"Okay."
Batman pulled up footage from the zoo.
Penelope riding Nimbus. The enormous white Pegasus flew across the screen.
M'gann's mouth opened. "Is that a Pegasus?"
"Yes."
Raven looked toward Xanadu.
The sorceress seemed mildly amused.
"Penelope awakened inherited familiar magic during the zoo incident."
Batman displayed magical analysis. "Her family has dormant magical traits. Penelope formed a bond with Nimbus, who refuses to leave her."
The next photograph showed Nimbus with his head through a dining-room window.
M'gann covered her mouth. Batman changed the image quickly.
Raven looked toward him. "Was that necessary?"
"It demonstrates behavioral issues."
Xanadu quietly smiled into her teacup.
Batman continued. "Penelope is less relevant to why I called you, but her abilities are developing. Familiar bonding may become summoning, creature empathy, or more general magical attraction."
Raven considered the little girl. "Madame Xanadu can teach her."
"I intend to," Xanadu said.
"And Beryl?"
"Riding."
M'gann's face softened. "That's kind of adorable."
Batman shut down most of the display. Only Rebecca and Ace remained. Then he looked directly at Raven and M'gann. There it was. The actual conversation. Batman stepped away from the console. "Both of them need teachers."
M'gann's thoughtful expression deepened. Raven already knew what was coming. Batman looked first at M'gann.
"Rebecca and Ace both possess abilities overlapping yours. Telepathy. Emotional sensing. Mental projection. Telekinesis in Ace's case. Rebecca may eventually develop more complex psychic links."
Then Raven. "Both also have powers that respond strongly to emotion. Ace's reality alteration. Rebecca's transformations and possible sonic abilities. Raven, you're one of the most experienced people I know at controlling abilities directly tied to emotional state."
Raven crossed her arms.
Batman added, "You're also both women."
M'gann blinked.
Batman clarified immediately. "That isn't the deciding factor. But it matters."
Raven understood. Two girls growing into powers that involved their bodies, emotions, minds, fear, boundaries. Sometimes a mentor who had lived something similar could say things another person could not.
M'gann looked toward the photographs. Neither girl appeared threatening in them. Rebecca looked annoyed at the camera. Ace looked tired.
Kids. Just kids.
M'gann asked quietly, "How long were you planning on us being there?"
Batman did not answer immediately.
She looked at him. "Be honest."
Batman nodded. "If either of you needs to leave for another responsibility, you leave. This isn't a prison sentence."
"That isn't an amount of time."
"At least a year."
M'gann breathed out.
Batman continued. "Three to five would be better."
Raven's eyes narrowed slightly. "And the actual answer?"
Batman paused. "Ten to twelve years."
M'gann slowly turned toward him. "You want us to help raise them."
"I want you to teach them."
"For twelve years."
"Until they're capable of handling these abilities without constant supervision."
Nobody spoke. Even Madame Xanadu remained quiet.
M'gann looked at Rebecca's picture. Six.
Ace was older, but emotionally there were parts of her that had never been given the chance to grow normally.
Twelve years was enormous. And somehow it also made sense. Psychic abilities were not something you taught in six weekend classes. M'gann remembered herself when she had first begun working among humans. How badly she wanted people to like her.
How easily she could have crossed lines because minds were so accessible to her. The temptation to fix people. To remove fear. To make someone forget pain. She had learned. Sometimes painfully. She thought about Rebecca hearing thoughts she did not ask for. Ace being able to change someone enough that the person might never know they had been changed.
Those girls needed more than combat training. They needed to understand consent before they understood power. They needed someone to tell them that having access to a person's mind was not permission to enter it.
Someone who would understand if they made mistakes.
M'gann looked toward Batman. "You've already decided I'm a good fit."
"Yes."
"That isn't the same as me deciding."
"I know."
She appreciated that answer. Raven remained silent. Her hesitation came from another place. She remembered Azarath. She remembered growing up with emotions treated as dangerous. She remembered learning discipline before she learned comfort.
The endless fear that one strong feeling might become a doorway for something terrible.
Children with emotional powers frightened her.
Not because she feared them.
Because she knew how easy it was for adults to teach a child that control meant hating part of themselves.
She had spent too long learning that lesson.
If she taught these girls badly...
Rebecca could begin fearing her transformations so deeply that she treated herself like a monster.
Ace could learn that her power made her dangerous simply for existing.
Raven did not want that. She also did not know whether she was good enough at warmth to prevent it.
M'gann glanced toward her.
Raven felt the concern. "Don't."
M'gann blinked innocently. "I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was about to ask if you're okay."
"Exactly."
M'gann smiled faintly.
Raven looked toward Batman. "If I agree, I teach them my way."
Batman nodded. "I expect you to."
"They meditate."
"Fine."
"They learn emotional grounding before you put them into combat simulations."
"Agreed."
"They learn psychic shielding."
"Yes."
"They learn that negative emotions are not bad or failures."
Batman paused. Then nodded. "Yes."
Raven looked back toward the screen.
"They do not get trained into becoming weapons."
"No."
"They do not owe the Justice League service because we taught them."
"No."
"They are allowed to decide they don't want to be heroes."
"Yes."
Raven studied him carefully. Then she looked toward Xanadu. The old sorceress smiled softly.
Raven exhaled. "I'll do it."
M'gann smiled.
Batman nodded once. Raven raised a finger. "One year."
Batman waited.
"I am agreeing to one year first. If after that I believe staying is good for them and for me, I stay longer."
"Fair."
Raven lowered her hand.
M'gann looked toward Rebecca. Then Ace. She spoke more slowly. "I'll do the same."
Batman nodded. "One year?"
"One year guaranteed."
M'gann thought for a moment. "But..."
Everyone waited.
Her expression softened. "If they're comfortable with me, and I'm helping them, I'm not planning to disappear because a calendar says I'm done."
Raven looked at her.
M'gann shrugged. "I know myself."
J'onn's expression warmed.
M'gann continued, "I want Rebecca to learn that hearing someone's thoughts doesn't make her bad. I want Ace to know she doesn't need to be scared of what she can do. And both of them need somebody to teach them the rules before they have to learn them by hurting somebody."
She looked toward Batman. "Telepathy can make you feel like everybody belongs to you."
Batman watched her.
M'gann shook her head. "They don't. Their thoughts don't. Their memories don't. Their pain doesn't. Even when you can reach it."
Raven nodded slightly.
M'gann's voice became gentler. "Nobody taught me all of that at once. I had to learn pieces."
J'onn lowered his gaze.
M'gann noticed. She smiled toward him. "You taught me a lot."
"I should have taught you more."
"You taught me enough to survive learning the rest."
Something passed across J'onn's face.
Pride.
Regret.
Love.
M'gann looked toward the children again. "So yes. I'll teach them."
Madame Xanadu picked up her teacup. "All of them."
M'gann paused. "All?"
"Kairo as well."
Raven turned toward her.
Xanadu's expression became amused. "My nephew is an open book."
"That doesn't sound safe when you're talking about a child who stopped time," M'gann said.
"Open books can contain dangerous things."
Raven looked toward Kairo's image.
Xanadu continued. "His power learns."
Batman listened closely.
"Kairo's abilities do not merely grow in strength. They adapt. He studies a process and time seems to find a place for it within him."
Raven frowned. "What does that mean?"
"When he learned magic, his temporal abilities began expressing themselves through magical structure. When Beryl taught him movement, his power learned to shorten the time between steps. When Rebecca opened her mind to his..."
M'gann's eyebrows rose. "She did what?"
"Recently."
Raven looked interested now.
Xanadu continued, "They formed a psychic connection. Small. Young. Their guardian has restricted it before either child becomes too curious."
"Guardian?"
"Another story."
M'gann looked toward Batman.
"How many stories are inside this mansion?"
Batman did not answer. That itself was an answer.
Xanadu's fingers touched the edge of the teacup. "Kairo's mental abilities have begun growing since the connection formed."
Raven looked back toward the boy. "So he copies powers?"
"No." Xanadu considered her wording. "He learns processes. Time touches everything. Magic happens in time. Thought happens in time. Movement happens in time. Life grows through time. A wound closes through time."
Raven understood where she was going.
Xanadu's green eyes settled on Kairo's picture. "I do not know whether there exists a form of magic he can never learn. I am beginning to wonder the same regarding abilities that can be understood as processes."
M'gann's expression became much more serious. "You think he could learn telepathy."
"I think he already has the beginning."
"And telekinesis?"
"Perhaps."
"Reality alteration?"
Xanadu's smile disappeared. "That is one lesson I hope he takes his time reaching."
Raven let out a quiet breath. "That's going to be exhausting."
Xanadu's smile returned. "Yes."
For the first time that night, Raven smiled properly.
"Good."
Batman looked at her.
She shrugged. "I've dealt with impossible students before."
M'gann pointed at herself. "Same."
J'onn looked at her.
M'gann corrected herself. "I've been the impossible student before."
"That is more accurate."
She looked offended.
Raven glanced at Xanadu. "If Kairo is there, Beryl will be there."
"Almost certainly."
Raven's expression softened slightly. "I haven't seen her in a long time."
"She will be pleased."
"She'll talk for two hours."
"At minimum."
Raven nodded. "Good."
M'gann looked between them. "Who is Beryl?"
Raven and Xanadu answered together. "Squire."
"Oh!"
Now M'gann recognized the name. "The British one?"
Raven looked at her. "There are several British heroes."
"The very British one."
Xanadu smiled. "That is fair."
M'gann turned toward her uncle.
J'onn had been quiet through most of the discussion.
Watching and Listening. Letting her decide. M'gann knew him too well. She walked closer. "Is this what you wanted?"
J'onn tilted his head slightly. She continued. "Do you think I'm ready for this?"
J'onn did not answer aloud. His telepathy touched hers with the gentleness of someone knocking on a door he already had permission to enter.
You have been ready for longer than you believe.
M'gann's expression changed.
J'onn continued inside her mind.
Teaching is not knowing every answer. It is remaining when the student does not know theirs.
M'gann's eyes warmed.
You made mistakes when you were younger.
Her smile faded slightly.
So did I.
She looked at him.
The difference is that you learned to treat your mistakes as lessons instead of excuses. These children need someone who remembers what power felt like before it became familiar.
M'gann's smile returned.
They need someone who knows kindness is a discipline too.
Her eyes brightened.
"Thanks, Uncle J'onn."
Raven looked between them. "You were talking privately."
M'gann smiled. "Maybe."
"Rude."
"You literally have a Soul-Self."
"That is unrelated."
Madame Xanadu quietly laughed. Batman returned to the console. The photographs reorganized across the screen. Kairo. Rebecca. Ace. Penelope.
Four children who had somehow managed to draw the attention of Batman, one of the strongest telepaths alive, his niece, the daughter of Trigon, and an immortal sorceress who had probably forgotten more magic than most people would ever learn.
M'gann studied them again. Then something occurred to her. She looked toward Batman.
"Wait."
Batman stopped typing. Raven knew that tone. M'gann pointed toward the screen. "If we're agreeing to spend at least a year helping teach these kids..."
Batman waited. "And you're hoping for three to five, maybe ten or twelve..."
"Correct."
M'gann slowly folded her arms. "Where exactly are we supposed to live?"
Batman remained silent. Raven looked toward him. Then toward Madame Xanadu. Xanadu lifted her teacup and smiled into it.
M'gann's eyes narrowed. "Oh no."
Raven looked at her. "What?"
"That smile."
"What smile?"
"The one where somebody already knows something I don't."
Madame Xanadu took another peaceful sip. Batman turned back toward the computer.
M'gann stared at both of them. "Where are we staying?!!!!!!"
And somewhere in Cranston Estates, several very large houses waited patiently for two new residents who had absolutely no idea how strange their lives were about to become.