I slipped out of the maintenance tunnel, my heart hammering against my ribs, and slid back into the pristine white corridor. The Watchtower was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy now burning in my hand.
"Ring," I pulsed, leaning against the cold metal wall to catch my breath. "Report status."
"Main Battery: 5.8%. Secondary Storage: 100% (Reach-encrypted energy)."
The number sent a shiver through me. I was running on fumes, but I was also carrying enough secondary energy to tear a hole in the station's hull.
I hurried back to my quarters, navigating the corridors with the help of the maps I'd memorized. The timeline was tricky. We were likely in the gap between Young Justice episodes 4 ("Drop Zone") and 5 ("Schooled"). The Team had defeated the Kroloteans at the warehouse, but they were still technically in their "trial period" for the League. Batman was watching, but he was distracted.
I reached my room, locked the door, and slumped onto the floor. I didn't turn on the lights.
"Ring," I whispered, holding up my hand. The light was a sickly, flickering electric blue. "Data decode status."
"Decode: 35%. The Reach programming is designed to be self-referential. I am constructing a virtual environment to isolate and analyze the code."
A holographic projection of jagged, alien code floated above the ring. My Sharingan spun, capturing every symbol, every pattern. In my previous life, I learned how to code, not because I wanted to be a programmer or anything. Just to automate most of the documentation my firm had to do. 30% of the work lawyers do is documentation after all, so to be the best, I, of course, made the process much more efficient.
Looking back at the squiggly lines I didn't understand, but I started to notice things in the code. No, I couldn't understand what I was seeing, but I was learning. The Sharingan's instant recall allowed me to spot patterns in the Reach code that the ring's AI could miss.
"Ring," I said, pointing at a specific node in the code. "Look at the recursive loop here. It can be broken if it senses a trigger. It's waiting for a specific condition from Earth before it transmits the full payload."
"Analysis confirmed. Willpower can simulate this trigger. Do you wish to attempt a partial decryption?"
"Yes. But do it slowly. If this signal triggers something, I need to know what."
The blue-green light of the construct flickered violently, casting long, jagged shadows against the walls of my room. The Reach code was aggressive, actively fighting the Ring's analysis.
"Partial decryption failed," the AI's voice was strained, distorted by the unstable energy. "The security protocol is rewriting itself. It is tracing the intrusion."
"Dammit," I hissed, looking at my hand. The ring was heating up, the metal starting to burn my skin. The Reach energy in my secondary cell was demanding release. "How long until it traces us back to this room?"
"30 seconds."
I had no choice. I couldn't let them find me here. I had to dump the energy, but not into the air—I needed a conduit, something that would mask the surge.
I slammed my hand against the metallic floor plating of my room, aiming for a structural beam. "Ring! Dump 50% of the secondary storage into the station's structural grid! Mask the signal as a thermal expansion spike!"
A surge of blue-white energy tore from the ring, striking the floor. The metal groaned, but the energy dissipated into the massive structure of the Watchtower. My head felt like it had been split open, a blinding migraine ripping through my skull as the connection severed.
"Secondary storage: 50%," the AI reported, its voice returning to normal. "Trace lost. Security protocols reset to baseline."
I slumped against the wall, breathing in shallow gasps, my sweat mixing with the cold condensation on the metal. The room was silent, save for the hum of the station's life support.
I looked at the ring. 5.8% main power. 50% secondary. It was enough to keep me alive, but I was back to square one on the decryption.
Not square one, I corrected myself, wiping sweat from my forehead. I know how they encrypt it now.
The door to my room chimed. I scrambled to my feet, trying to smooth down my hoodie, and threw a blanket over the ring-hand to hide the faint blue glow.
"Enter," I said, my voice forced into a casual, slightly tired tone.
It was Superman.
He didn't loom like Batman; he stood with a calm, imposing grace. But his eyes—those blue eyes that could see through anything—were focused directly on me.
"Vex," he said, his voice calm, but with an underlying edge of steel. "The station's sensors picked up a massive, localized energy surge in this sector a minute ago. It was masked, but not well enough."
He walked into the room, his cape barely making a sound. "Aqualad said you were doing construct training with John. I hope you aren't overworking that ring."
"I was just... practicing," I said, leaning against the bed, trying to look smaller, younger, more vulnerable. "It's hard to control. It gets... hot."
Superman looked at the spot on the floor where I'd dumped the energy. He didn't say anything, but I knew he was scanning it.
"We brought you here to learn, Vex," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "But this station is sensitive. If you need help with the ring, tell John. Or Batman. Don't try to fix it yourself."
"I understand," I said. "I won't let it happen again."
He nodded, turning to leave. "Get some sleep, kid. You have a long day tomorrow."
I waited until the door closed, then let out a shaky breath. I had just lied to Superman. And he knew it.
I looked at the ring. It was time to find a way to stabilize this energy, or I was going to be caught long before I could figure out what the Reach or League of Shadows were planning.