I didn't sleep. You don't sleep when your primary weapon is at 5.7% power and your presence on the Watchtower is under a microscope.
I'd been pushing this off for a while. My main energy source couldn't remain at such low power, especially since more and more missions would come up soon.
My figure stood in the darkness of the guest quarters, the silent ventilation humming in the walls. The Ring was a dim. It didn't feel like a weapon anymore. It felt like a weight.
No more Reach's jagged, electric-blue energy tonight. That was a thief's fuel, unstable and bound to get me in trouble. To stabilize the Ring's energy, I needed a pure source. I needed Willpower.
I reached the door to Conner's room. I didn't knock. His hearing was sharp enough to pick up the friction of my sleeve against my side, he knew I was here. The door slid open, revealing Superboy standing in the shadows. He looked restless, his jaw set in a permanent line of frustration.
"You're out of bed," he said. His voice was flat, but I could hear the tension in it.
"So are you," I replied, stepping inside. There was a long pause before I spoke again. "The League sees you as a liability they have to manage. And they see me as a guest they have to watch. Neither of us is actually part of this."
Conner's jaw tightened, a small muscle twitching in his cheek. "I don't care what they see," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not some project you can analyze because you're bored. You don't know me."
"I know you spent most of your life behind that glass at Cadmus," I said, meeting his stare without blinking. "And I know they're still treating you like a specimen. Just in a bigger tube. If you want to prove them right by just standing here being angry, that's your choice. But I'm not here to watch you. I'm here because I'm stuck, and you're the only one in this place who actually understands what it's like to be a weapon without a hand to hold it."
The murderous edge in his eyes didn't vanish, but it shifted into a cold, sharp curiosity. He didn't yell or move to shove me out. Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, his silence demanding I prove I wasn't just another fake trying to sell him a story.
I held up my hand. The Ring sputtered, a weak green light dying against the darkness. "I'm running out of power. This Ring. It's built to run on the refusal to give up. You've spent every second since you woke up in Cadmus refusing to be what they told you to be. That's a lot of potential going to waste."
Conner stepped closer, his physical presence heavy. "You want to take something from me."
"I want to borrow it," I corrected. "The Ring can bridge our focus and create a charge that'll keep my ring on for just a little longer, and in exchange, I can help you filter the noise. The programming, the anger—I can give you a sense of control you haven't had yet."
He looked at the Ring for a long moment. "Do it."
My hand raised, but I didn't activate the Sharingan. I didn't want to analyze him like a specimen. He needed to trust me and the Ring needed to connect with the raw stubbornness he used to stay standing. I opened the Ring's intake, focusing on the sheer, unyielding pressure of his presence.
A thin, solid line of emerald light formed between us. It wasn't a spark or a flash. It was a slow, heavy pull, like the tension on a bowstring.
6.2%... 7.1%... 8.4%...
The light didn't flicker. It grew deep and dense, the color of a thick forest. I felt the Ring's internal structure settle, the burden of the stolen Reach energy being pushed into a corner by the weight of Conner's Will.
"It's steady," I whispered.
Conner's breathing hitched. His fists were clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He wasn't losing strength, but he was exerting a mental effort he wasn't used to. I could feel his determination—a blunt, heavy force that didn't know how to bend.
9.0%.
I broke the connection. The green glow in the room remained constant, no longer shivering.
"You okay?" I asked.
Conner exhaled a long, shaky breath and sat on the edge of the bed. "It was... quiet. For a second, the stuff in my head just stopped shouting."
"That was your own focus," I said, looking at the Ring. It felt warm and solid. "You gave the Ring a battery, and it gave you a moment of clarity. We both got what we needed."
I walked toward the door, feeling the weight of the new 9% charge. It wasn't a full tank, but it was pure. It was a start.
"Tomorrow at the gym," I said, looking back at him. "I've watched the way Black Canary moves. She doesn't fight with her muscles, she uses her weight and near-perfect timing. I'll show you how to do the same. If they want to treat us like projects, we might as well be the best-trained ones they've ever seen."
The door hissed shut behind me. I walked back to my room, the green light of the Ring illuminating the floor. No more siphoning from the walls. No more "dirty" energy. And I couldn't keep relying on Connor. I needed a stable source of energy. But from where?