The sun hung low over the ocean, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore filled the silence between the two figures sitting on the beach behind Mount Justice. Superboy sat cross-legged, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared out at the horizon. Spartan stood beside him, arms crossed, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow in the fading daylight.
The two clones had come here after training, seeking solace from the pressures of the League and the weight of their existence. They hadn't spoken much on the way down, but their unspoken bond was undeniable.
After a long silence, Superboy finally spoke, his voice low and bitter. "Do you think they'll ever accept us?"
Spartan glanced down at him, his helmet resting in the sand by his side. "Who? The League?"
Superboy nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Superman barely looks at me. He didn't say anything to me when I...when we escaped from Cadmus. He just… stared, like I was some kind of mistake." His fists clenched. "I thought… I thought maybe being half-Kryptonian would mean something. That I'd have a place. A purpose. But all I feel is… rejection."
Spartan studied his younger brother for a moment before sitting down beside him, the sand crunching softly under his weight. He leaned back on his hands, his expression unreadable.
"Superman's a great man," Spartan began, his voice steady and calm, "but even great men have their flaws. He's not rejecting you because of who you are, Superboy. He's rejecting you because of what you remind him of—what Cadmus did. To him, you're a reflection of a violation, of something he couldn't control. That's not your fault."
Superboy's jaw tightened. "Doesn't make it hurt any less."
Spartan nodded, conceding the point. "Pain is part of life, little brother. It's what sharpens you, and makes you stronger. Do you think the Spartans of old whined about pain? No. They embraced it. They knew it was what forged them into warriors."
Superboy turned to him, his frustration evident. "Easy for you to say. You've got Wonder Woman. She… she called you her son. She wants to guide you, to be there for you. Superman doesn't even want to acknowledge I exist."
Spartan's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone taking on a hard edge. "You think I've got it easy? Wonder Woman calling me her son doesn't erase the years Cadmus spent drilling it into my head that I was nothing but a weapon. A tool to fight her. I don't even know if I want her to be my mother. I don't know who I am beyond what they made me to be. But I know this much: I won't let that define me. And neither should you."
Superboy looked down at the sand, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't know how to do that."
"You start by looking at what you can control," Spartan said, his tone softening. "You're not just half-Kryptonian, Superboy. You're you. Your strength, your speed, your instincts—they're yours. Cadmus might've made you, but they didn't make your heart. That's yours, and it's stronger than you realize."
Superboy let the words sink in, the weight of them settling in his chest. He glanced at Spartan. "You believe that?"
Spartan turned to face him fully, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I do. And more than that, I believe in you. You're not alone in this. You've got me. You've got the team. We're your family now, whether you like it or not." He smirked slightly. "And as your older brother, it's my job to knock some sense into you when you start doubting yourself."
Superboy let out a small chuckle, the tension in his posture easing slightly. "Older brother, huh?"
"Damn right," Spartan said with a grin. "And if you keep sulking, I'll drag you back to the training room and remind you why I'm the better fighter."
Superboy rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. "Fine. But don't expect me to go easy on you."
"That's the spirit," Spartan said, standing and offering his hand. "Now, come on. The team's probably wondering where we are. Can't have them thinking we're slacking off."
Superboy took his hand, letting Spartan pull him to his feet. As they began walking back toward the mountain, the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the beach bathed in the soft glow of twilight.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Superboy felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe he didn't have all the answers yet. Maybe Superman wasn't ready to accept him. But he had a brother now—a family—and that was more than enough to start with.
The air in the massive underground arena was thick with heat and the acrid scent of chemicals. Flickering torches lined the walls, casting jagged shadows that danced ominously across the cheering crowd of Kobra cultists. Their hoods and robes swayed as their chanting grew louder.
The arena itself was a crude but effective battleground—a ring of dirt and stone encircled by makeshift barriers. At its center stood Bane, his imposing frame already slick with sweat, though noticeably thinner and less threatening without his Venom enhancement. His sharp, calculating eyes scanned the opponent stepping into the ring opposite him.
At the far end, Mammoth staggered forward, his gangly, unimpressive body barely capable of holding the vial of glowing green Kobra-Venom handed to him by a hooded cultist. The high priest of the cult stepped forward, his voice resonating with conviction.
"If your champion triumphs, outsider, we will leave. But should ours prevail, our conquest continues."
Bane scoffed, grabbing the injector offered by one of the guards. He jabbed it into his neck without hesitation, the familiar hiss of Venom filling his veins. His muscles rippled and bulged as his body transformed into its more familiar, monstrous size. With a cracking of knuckles, he turned back to the high priest.
"Send him forward. I will break your 'champion.'"
The crowd erupted in a mix of laughter and jeers.
Mammoth took the Kobra-Venom dose reluctantly, and his transformation was instantaneous. His body convulsed, veins swelling and glowing faintly as his frame expanded rapidly. Where a scrawny prisoner had once stood, now towered a monstrous figure, thickly muscled and primal, with a deep growl that echoed throughout the chamber.
The cultists roared their approval.
The Brawl Begins
Bane charged first, his massive arms swinging in a brutal arc aimed at Mammoth's head. The blow connected with a sickening crack, but Mammoth didn't even flinch. Instead, he snarled and grabbed Bane by the waist, lifting him clean off the ground and slamming him into the arena floor.
Bane grimaced, his strength pushed to its limits. He kicked Mammoth off with a powerful thrust, rolling back to his feet with surprising agility for his size. He launched a flurry of punches aimed at Mammoth's midsection, each blow landing with a meaty thud.
Mammoth barely seemed to notice. The Kobra-Venom coursing through his veins made him stronger, and more durable than even Bane's enhanced form. He retaliated with a devastating right hook, sending Bane flying into the arena wall.
The cultists cheered wildly, their chant growing louder and more frenzied:
"Hail Kobra! Hail Kobra!"
Bane staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Mammoth, his mind racing. Bane had faced many powerful foes in his time, but this was different. Mammoth wasn't just strong; he was a mindless juggernaut, unrelenting and impervious to pain.
Mammoth charged, a mountain of muscle barreling forward with terrifying speed. Bane dodged to the side at the last second, landing a powerful elbow strike to the back of Mammoth's neck. The larger opponent stumbled but didn't fall, turning with a guttural roar and swinging wildly.
The fight continued in brutal fashion, the arena floor stained with dirt and blood. Bane's punches became slower, his breathing heavier. He was fighting a losing battle, and both he and the cultists knew it.
Finally, Mammoth delivered a crushing uppercut that sent Bane sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left him stunned, his chest heaving as he struggled to rise. Mammoth loomed over him, victorious, as the cultists erupted into a deafening chorus.
"Hail Kobra! Hail Kobra!"
The high priest stepped forward, his voice booming with triumph.
"The Kobra-Venom proves itself superior! Our reign begins here, with power unmatched!"
Bane lay on the ground, his fists clenched in the dirt. His defeat burned, but his calculating mind was already searching for a way to turn the tide.
The Bio-Ship glided silently through the skies, its sleek frame reflecting nothing but the faint shimmer of the ocean below. Inside, the atmosphere was tense, filled with a mixture of excitement and focus. Robin sat near the front, scanning the mission details once again on his wrist-mounted computer.
"Santa Prisca," he muttered, breaking the silence. "The world's biggest supplier of Venom, and yet all shipments have stopped cold. The facility's still active, though. Something's not adding up."
"Batman wouldn't send us here if it was a simple supply issue," Aqualad responded, his deep voice calm and steady. "We must uncover the truth."
From one of the ship's side seats, Kid Flash leaned back with a grin. "Infiltrate, investigate, and report back. Sounds simple enough. Bet I can finish this mission before Robin even disables the first alarm."
Robin smirked. "You've got jokes now, but let's see how funny you are when you trip another motion sensor."
Across the cabin, Spartan adjusted the sheets for his blade, his Spartan helmet rested on the seat beside him. His stoic expression never faltered as he listened to the briefing.
The scene shifted briefly in Spartan's mind to the Watchtower briefing earlier that day. Batman's commanding tone echoed through the room:
"Your mission is to infiltrate the Venom production facility on Santa Prisca. Determine why shipments have stopped despite full production capacity. Gather intel and report back. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary."
Back to the Bio-Ship
The memory faded, and Spartan clenched his fists. Batman's instructions were clear, but Spartan's instincts screamed for action. Waiting, watching, and reporting—it wasn't the way of a warrior. But it was the mission.
"Still doesn't sit right with me," Superboy said from the corner of the ship, crossing his arms. "If Cadmus was involved with Venom production, we should take the place down now."
"Mission parameters, dude," Kid Flash said, shrugging. "Besides, it's not like we'd just roll in there punching and breaking stuff—"
Superboy cut him off, his voice sharp. "Says the guy who would."
Before an argument could escalate, Miss Martian intervened, her voice soft but firm. "Let's focus. Batman trusts us to figure this out." She glanced toward Spartan. "Right?"
Spartan nodded, his voice calm but resolute. "The League wouldn't send us if they didn't believe we could handle it. Let's not give them a reason to think otherwise."
The team exchanged glances, the tension easing slightly.
The Bio-Ship neared the island, its sleek frame blending seamlessly with the surrounding environment as Aqualad activated the stealth-tech. The ship shimmered and then disappeared, leaving only the faintest distortion in the air.
Aqualad stood near the open hatch, ready to deploy. "First drop zone in sight," he announced, his tone calm but commanding.
Miss Martian brought the ship lower, hovering silently above the water's surface. Aqualad dove smoothly into the waves, his Atlantean physiology allowing him to maneuver effortlessly toward the beach. He patched into the team's comms as soon as he landed.
"Beach is secure. Heat and motion sensors patched. Move in," he instructed.
Robin, Kid Flash, Miss Martian, Superboy, and Spartan readied themselves to descend.
Kid Flash adjusted his stealth suit and nudged Superboy with a grin. "You know, it's not too late to put on the stealth tech. It's quite slimming," he teased, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm.
Superboy scowled. "No thanks. I'll stick to my style."
Miss Martian tilted her head, smiling. "It totally works for you, though."
Spartan, seated next to Superboy, glanced at him and smirked faintly. "Your call, but don't complain if you stand out."
Superboy muttered under his breath but said nothing further, his arms crossed as the ship descended.
The hatch opened, and the team leaped out one by one, their figures vanishing into the dense jungle as they activated their stealth suits. Spartan adjusted the helmet over his head as he landed with a soft thud.
The team regrouped near Aqualad's position, hidden in the foliage near the beach. The faint sound of chanting could be heard in the distance, carried on the wind from the facility.
Robin crouched low, his scanner already out. "Alright, let's move. We've got a factory to infiltrate."
As they advanced into the jungle, Spartan remained at the rear, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. The warrior in him itched for action, but he stayed focused, ready to step in if the team's stealth failed.