The simulation chamber in the Justice League Watchtower doesn't just fade back to normal lighting, it exhales.
The air hums with residual energy, like the ghost of a scream still echoing in the walls.
The fluorescent panels dim, but the shadows they cast seem thicker, as if the darkness itself is watching.
Derrick stands motionless. His breathing is too even. Too controlled. Not a bead of sweat. Not a tremor. His eyes, though calm, hold the cold precision of a predator counting the steps between itself and its prey.
Superman lands beside him, the floor groaning under the weight of his presence.
The Man of Steel's usual warmth is absent. His voice is low, almost guarded.
"Good work. You handled that… better than most."
There's a pause. A beat too long. Superman's gaze lingers, as if he's searching for something, a crack, a flicker, a tell. But Derrick's face is a mask of serene indifference.
Derrick inclines his head, just slightly. His voice is smooth, practiced.
"Still learning how things work here."
Superman's jaw tightens. For a fraction of a second, his eyes narrow. Then, as if shaking off the unease, he forces a faint smile.
"You're adapting quickly."
But his tone doesn't match the words. There's doubt there. Suspicion. And then,
A shift.
The air in the room thickens.
Because somewhere else, in the bowels of the Watchtower, Batman is already dissecting the truth.
The Batcave's satellite terminal casts a sickly blue glow over Batman's face, carving his features into sharp, jagged angles.
The only sound is the rhythmic tap of his fingers against the console, each strike like the tick of a countdown.
He rewinds the simulation footage. Again. And again. And again.
Frame by frame.
There.
A flicker. A distortion. Derrick's arm, just for a millisecond.. ripples. Like liquid. Like something alive.
Batman freezes the image. Zooms in. The pixels scream at him.
"Liquid structure… adaptive biology…"
His voice is a rasp, barely above a whisper. He pulls up the genetic scan. Overlays the data. The match is undeniable.
Not enough to accuse.
But enough to know.
Batman leans back, the chair creaking like a dying man's last breath.
"You're hiding something."
The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.
He saves the file. The classification flashes onto the screen in blood-red text:
THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN.. MONITOR CLOSELY
His fingers hover over the comms. One press. One word to Clark, and the League would mobilize.
But he doesn't.
Because Batman knows Clark. Knows the blind trust the Man of Steel places in potential. In hope.
And hope, right now, is a liability.
Batman's lips curl into something far from a smile.
"Patience is a weapon."
He shuts the file.
No one is told.
Not yet.
Days pass.
The Watchtower breathes. The hum of its systems, the distant chatter of heroes, the clang of training equipment, all of it a delicate facade.
Derrick blends in. Too well.
He attends briefings. Analyzes threats. Assists in evacuations.
His movements are fluid, effortless. His demeanor, impeccable.
But his eyes...
His eyes miss nothing.
They linger on weaknesses. On patterns. On the fractures in the League's unity.
And when no one is looking, his mind is a whirring machine, absorbing, calculating, preparing.
The corridor is empty save for the blurred afterimage of Flash as he skids to a stop. For once, he's not moving. Just… standing. Watching.
Derrick turns, his expression neutral.
"You settling in okay?"
Flash grins, but there's a flicker of unease in his eyes. He vibrates in place, unable to stay still for long.
"Yeah… it's a lot. You ever think about speed training? Could be fun."
Derrick doesn't smile. Doesn't react.
"Not really."
Inside, though,
Inside, he's drowning in data.
The Speed Force radiates from Flash like a living storm, a fundamental force Derrick has never encountered. Not biological. Not technological.
Something else.
Something older.
Derrick files it away.
The training hall is bathed in the glow of holographic opponents, their forms flickering like dying embers.
Derrick moves through them with eerie precision, no wasted motion, no emotion, no flair.
Wonder Woman watches from the shadows, her arms crossed, her gaze sharp enough to cut.
"You fight like someone trained in many styles."
Derrick pauses. Just for a second. His voice is measured.
"I learned from… different people."
Technically true.
Thousands of stolen memories. Absorbed techniques. Lifetimes of combat distilled into one perfect machine.
Wonder Woman steps forward, her boots thudding against the floor.
"Yet you show restraint."
Derrick doesn't flinch.
"I don't want to hurt anyone… unnecessarily."
She studies him. The weight of her stare is oppressive.
"Controlled."
The word hangs between them, heavy with implication.
Derrick doesn't answer.
Because she's right.
And that's the problem.
Elsewhere...
Gotham's skyline is a jagged maw against the night sky. Batman stands on a rain-slicked gargoyle, the city's neon glow reflecting off his cowl like blood in water.
His fingers fly across a holographic display, pulling up data streams from the Watchtower.
Derrick's heart rate.
His movement efficiency.
His reaction times.
His emotional responses.
All of it, recorded.
And then
Batman sees it.
Derrick's stress levels are flatlined. Perfectly regulated. Even during combat simulations.
Batman's voice is a growl, barely audible.
"Too calm."
He flags another note. The text burns into the screen:
POSSIBLE EMOTIONAL MIMICRY
His gloved hand clenches.
"What the hell are you?"
The Villains' Gambit
Deep beneath the Earth, in a chamber carved from black stone, the shadows seem to whisper.
Lex Luthor sits at the head of a obsidian table, his fingers steepled, his eyes cold.
The holographic projection of Derrick's combat footage flickers in the air, casting monstrous shapes on the walls.
Vandal Savage leans forward, his ancient eyes gleaming.
"He's disciplined."
Deathstroke nods, his mask hiding nothing.
"No wasted motion. Almost… mechanical."
Brainiac's voice is a chilling hum, his projection flickering like a dying star.
"Power suppression confirmed. He is… holding back a substantial amount... ."
Luthor doesn't blink.
"He's hiding something."
Black Adam cracks his knuckles, his rage barely contained.
"Then force him to show it."
Luthor shakes his head, a slow, deliberate motion.
"No. We wait."
His gaze lingers on Derrick's hologram, as if peeling back layers no one else can see.
"Patience wins wars."
A silence falls over the room. The kind of silence that precedes a storm
That night, Derrick stands at the Watchtower's observation window, the void of space stretching out before him.
Earth rotates below, a blue jewel suspended in the abyss.
His senses stretch outward, probing, searching.
He detects:
• Batman's passive surveillance systems, humming like distant predators.
• The faint thrum of mystical monitoring, Diana's? John's?
• The distant, pulsing malice of Luthor's schemes.
A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
"Multiple observers huh.. ."
He doesn't react. Doesn't move.
Instead, he continues the act.
Inside, his mind is a whirring storm of calculations, strategies, contingencies.
Assimilation is still an option.
But premature action risks united opposition.
Better to build trust.
Better to study weaknesses.
Better to wait.
He watches Earth, quietly.
For now…
Everything is calm.
But beneath the calm,
Three forces coil like serpents, ready to strike.
Batman, investigating.
Luthor, planning.
Derrick, adapting.
And none of them move too quickly.
Because the first to blink… loses.
The training hall is bathed in the sterile glow of holographic grids. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and unspoken tension.
Derrick and Wonder Woman stand near the combat simulation, reviewing data. Flash flickers past in a red blur, barely pausing. Superman speaks with Green Lantern, their voices low, urgent.
Everything feels… wrong.
Then
A deafening wail tears through the Watchtower.
Red lights flood the corridors, casting blood-colored shadows on the walls.
Flash freezes, his body vibrating with restless energy.
"Uh… that's not routine."
A holographic screen erupts in the center of the room, expanding like a living thing.
The display zooms in on Metropolis.
Smoke billows from the upper floors. Windows shattered. Glass raining onto the streets below.
And then
The feed switches.
A pale face fills the screen.
Green hair.
Wide, manic grin.
Eyes like a shark's.
The Joker.
He waves, the motion exaggerated, theatrical.
"Hellooooo, Metropolis! Did you miss me?"
Flash groans, rubbing his temples.
"Oh, come on."
The Joker spins in an office chair, his boots kicking lazily. Behind him, hostages sit tied to chairs, their faces pale with terror.
And there, center stage...
Lois Lane.
Superman's entire body tenses. His fists clench, his knuckles white.
Joker grins wider, as if he can taste the rage radiating from the Man of Steel.
"I thought today needed a little… excitement!"
He gestures dramatically, his sleeves flapping like broken wings.
"The building is rigged! Boom boom everywhere!"
Wonder Woman's eyes narrow, her grip tightening on her sword.
"He's bluffing."
Batman's voice cuts in over the comms, cold, controlled, deadly.
"No. He isn't."
A beat of silence.
"Thermal scans confirm multiple explosives."
Joker leans closer to the camera, his grinning face filling the screen.
"Oh! And here's the fun part!"
He holds up a detonator, the wires snaking like veins from its surface.
"Anyone gets too close…"
He presses a button.
A click.
A hiss.
"…we redecorate Metropolis."
Superman steps forward, his cape billowing like a storm front. His voice is calm, but his eyes burn with barely contained fury.
"We go. Now."
Flash is already vibrating, his body a blur of motion. Wonder Woman draws her sword, the blade humming with divine energy.
Green Lantern's aura flares, emerald light casting monstrous shadows.
Derrick watches. Silently.
Inside his mind, calculations unfold like origami.
Joker = unpredictable variable.
Explosives = risk to civilians.
Hero response = non-lethal precision required.
Perfect scenario to reinforce trust.
From Gotham, Batman's voice is a low growl over the comms.
"No sudden movements."
"He wired the building structurally."
"Flash, evacuate surrounding blocks."
"Green Lantern... contain blast radius."
"Clark… negotiate."
Superman nods, his jaw set.
"Understood."
A pause.
Batman's eyes flick to Derrick's position on the tactical display.
"Derrick… assist with evacuation."
Derrick doesn't hesitate.
"Got it."
Batman watches him, his expression unreadable.
Still testing him.
Seconds later, the heroes descend around the Daily Planet. The police perimeter is a ring of flashing lights, the civilians watching with wide, terrified eyes.
Flash disappears, a red streak as he clears the streets.
Green Lantern forms an emerald dome around the building, the energy shimmering like a soap bubble about to burst.
Superman floats up to the upper floor windows, his super hearing piercing the chaos inside.
Heartbeats.
Explosives.
Joker's laughter, echoing through the halls like a ghost.
Derrick moves among the civilians, his actions precise, heroic, controlled.
He lifts debris.
Guides people away.
Keeps his power output… moderate.
But inside
Inside, he's mapping the building's skeleton in exquisite detail.
Explosive wiring paths.
Structural weak points.
Joker's exact location.
He could resolve this in microseconds.
Teleport inside.
Absorb the toxins.
Reshape the building.
Neutralize Joker.
But he doesn't.
Because revealing himself would shatter the illusion.
So he follows the plan.
And waits.
Joker watches through a shattered window, his head tilted like a curious predator.
He spots Derrick below.
"Oh? New face."
He taps the detonator, his finger hovering over the trigger.
"Let's see how he handles pressure."
He presses a secondary switch.
Inside the building
A floor collapses.
Hostages scream.
Superman reacts instantly, moving to stabilize the structure.
But now
His attention is divided.
Joker laughs, the sound echoing through the broken glass.
"Dance, Boy Scout! Dance!"
Batman monitors every movement, his gaze locked on Derrick.
And then
He sees it.
Derrick is already positioned to intercept the falling debris.
Too perfectly.
Batman's voice is a whisper, barely audible.
"You predicted that…"
His fingers tighten on the console.
What the hell are you?
The situation shifts.
Superman's expression darkens. His voice is tense over the comms.
"These aren't conventional explosives…"
Batman responds instantly, his voice like ice.
"Explain."
Superman inhales, his enhanced senses sampling the air.
"Compressed canisters… chemical dispersal units…"
A pause.
"It's gas."
Flash slows, his body still vibrating.
"Gas? Like… tear gas?"
Batman's voice turns colder than the void of space.
"No."
He pulls up the chemical analysis. The toxin composition burns on the screen.
He recognizes it immediately.
"It's Joker toxin."
On the live feed, Joker grins wider, as if he heard them.
He lifts one of the canisters into view. Inside, a faint green vapor swirls like a living thing.
"Laughing gas for everyone!"
He spins, his coat flaring like wings.
"Not the funny kind… the permanent kind!"
Behind him, Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen struggle against their restraints, their faces pale with terror.
Joker taps the detonator lightly.
"One push… and the whole building fills with giggles."
Superman clenches his fists.
This gas is lethal.
It causes uncontrollable laughter… followed by death.
And the building's ventilation system would spread it within seconds.
Batman speaks quickly, his voice sharp.
"Gas dispersal nodes are connected to the ventilation system."
"If triggered, containment will be extremely difficult."
Green Lantern tightens his energy dome, the emerald light flickering with effort.
"I can try sealing the building."
Batman shakes his head, his expression grim.
"Too slow."
Flash vibrates anxiously, his voice high.
"I can evacuate them... "
Batman cuts him off.
"If the gas deploys mid-evacuation, you'll spread it faster."
Silence.
This is a worst-case scenario.
Superman looks up at the building, his eyes burning with helpless rage.
He could break in,
But Joker's finger is already on the trigger.
Derrick processes the situation, his mind a whirring storm of possibilities.
Gas distribution network.
Ventilation pathways.
Joker's exact position.
Hostage locations.
He could:
• Teleport inside instantly.
• Absorb the toxin.
• Reshape the building's structure.
• Neutralize Joker in microseconds.
But doing so would expose him.
His mind runs probability models.
Trust gained vs. suspicion raised.
Lives at risk vs. concealment.
He watches Lois through the window.
He knows her death would change this timeline drastically.
For the first time since arriving on this Earth..
Derrick hesitates.
Joker taps the detonator again, his grinning face filling the screen.
"Tick-tock, heroes!"
He leans toward Lois, his breath hot against her ear.
"Big blue's girlfriend gets front row seats!"
Superman's voice is firm, unshakable.
"Joker. This doesn't end well for you."
Joker giggles, the sound echoing through the broken glass.
"It never does! That's the fun!"
He raises his thumb.
One press.
One second.
One choice.
Batman watches the live feed, his gaze locked on Lois.
He sees her beginning to cough.
Then
A laugh. Short. Sharp. Uncontrollable.
Jimmy begins laughing beside her, the sound filling the room like a death knell.
Joker smiles wider, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.
"Music to my ears."
Superman reaches them, but he can't untie everyone instantly.
And he can't remove them without spreading the toxin.
For once
Even Superman is struggling against time.
Batman's gaze flicks to Derrick.
Still outside.
Still calm.
Batman whispers, his voice a growl.
"Move…"
Because if Derrick doesn't act now,
Lois Lane dies.
And everything in this universe changes.
Everything happens in a single, horrifying instant.
Before Superman can move
Before Flash can accelerate
Before Green Lantern can seal the building
Click.
Joker presses the detonator.
Inside the Daily Planet, dozens of hidden canisters rupture simultaneously.
A violent hiss echoes through the ventilation system.
Bright green gas erupts from vents across multiple floors.
Within seconds, the toxic laughing gas begins flooding the hallways, the offices, the stairwells.
Hostages panic.
Some begin coughing immediately.
Others choke as the vapor spreads.
At the center of the room, Lois Lane struggles against her restraints, her face twisting in terror.
Beside her, Jimmy Olsen tries to hold his breath, his eyes wide with horror.
Joker throws his head back, his laughter echoing through the building like a death rattle.
"HAHAHAHA! Curtain call!"
Superman explodes forward, his body a blur of motion.
He smashes through the building wall, the sonic boom shattering glass across several blocks.
But the moment he enters,
The gas is already spreading.
His enhanced lungs immediately detect the lethal toxin saturation.
He inhales carefully, trying not to disturb the airflow.
But he sees it.
Green vapor rolling across the floor.
Hostages already beginning to convulse in laughter.
His eyes widen, his voice a whisper of
horror.
"No…"
He rushes toward Lois.
But if he moves too fast, he risks spreading the gas further.
Every step must be controlled.
Time is running out.
Outside, The World Holds Its Breath
Flash stops vibrating for a fraction of a second, his face pale.
"Oh no…"
Green Lantern increases his containment field, the emerald light pulsing with effort.
Wonder Woman leaps toward the building, her sword gleaming in the sunlight.
Police begin evacuating further away, their shouts lost in the chaos.
Batman's voice cuts through the comms, cold, controlled.
"Gas deployment confirmed."
"All units prepare containment."
But even he knows,
The people inside may not survive.
Derrick's Moment of Truth
Derrick watches the gas flood the building, his expression unreadable.
His mind runs simulations.
Remaining time before fatalities:
• 15 seconds, initial victims.
• 30 seconds, majority unconscious.
• 60 seconds, near total mortality.
He calculates outcomes.
If Lois dies:
• Superman psychological shift probability: Extreme.
• Timeline deviation: Massive.
• League cohesion: Reduced.
• Future instability: High.
Derrick understands.
Allowing this to happen may destabilize the entire planet.
But intervening fully risks revealing his nature.
For the first time since arriving on this Earth
He hesitates, because acting now to save people will expose his hidden abilities, making his future plans difficult...