The hum of the teleportation dissipated with a low echo, leaving only the vast silence of the Mount of Justice arrival chamber and the residual smell of ozone that always lingered after a zeta transfer. Erick Smith materialized beside Artemis, the two already positioned in the center of the circular platform. He felt the icy air conditioning brush against the emerald-green skin of his face and exposed hands, a strangely elastic sensation, as if the new texture responded with a slight delay to the touch of the artificial wind. Artemis squeezed his hand firmly, her fingers warm. Neither of them spoke. The grip was enough.
Monte's computer, with its neutral and mechanical voice, immediately announced:
"Erick Smith and Artemis Crock detected. Welcome back to Mount Justice."
Erick's gaze swept across the chamber. Empty platform. No team members waiting, no maintenance robots circling, just the blue glow of the control panels and the distant hum of the ventilation systems. He frowned, the movement causing his black hair with emerald highlights to fall slightly over his forehead.
"Computer," he said, his voice still hoarse from the long rest, but imbued with the same cold, calculating confidence as always. "Team location."
"The current team is gathered in the main dining hall, finishing their post-training lunch."
Erick nodded once, short and precise. He gave Artemis's hand a slight tug—a silent gesture of "let's go"—and the two began walking through the wide, illuminated corridors of the Mount. Their footsteps echoed on the polished metal floor, his balance still being tested with every meter. His body protested with dull aches in his reconstructed muscles, but the elemental fire in his chest burned steadily, now mixed with something new, fluid, alien. Artemis kept pace beside him, her sidelong glance worried, yet proud.
The automatic cafeteria doors opened with a soft hiss. The smells wafted in first: grilled hamburgers, hot french fries, fresh orange juice, freshly brewed coffee. The long, oval table occupied the center of the room. Black Canary sat at the head, her posture erect and authoritative, arms crossed over her yellow and black uniform. Superboy devoured a mountainous plate of meat, rice, and vegetables, his fork working voraciously, his body still sweaty from the intense training. Aqualad drank water slowly, his expression serene but visibly tired. Robin scribbled something on a holographic tablet, Kid Flash chewed at supersonic speed, M'gann floated slightly above her chair while nibbling on a colorful salad, and Starfire chuckled softly at one of Wally's jokes, her flaming hair loose and shining under the artificial light.
They already knew Erick had arrived—the announcement from the computer had been clear and loud enough to echo through the hallways. But when the doors opened completely and Erick crossed the threshold, the silence that fell was absolute and heavy.
All eyes turned to him at the same time.
Kid Flash froze, a forkful of potatoes inches from his open mouth, his jaw dropping in sheer shock. M'gann brought both hands to her mouth, her large green eyes wide with guilt and surprise. Starfire blinked several times, the smile slowly fading from her golden face as she processed the full transformation. Superboy stopped chewing, his fork suspended in mid-air, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. Aqualad tilted his head slowly, his silver eyes narrowing in calm but clearly impacted analysis. Robin dropped his tablet with an audible click, his mouth slightly open. Even Black Canary, always so composed, raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, her jaw clenched in a mixture of professional concern and astonishment.
Erick stopped a few meters from the table, Artemis beside him, and offered a calm, almost amused smile, as if he were commenting on something trivial.
"Hey guys... how are you doing?"
The silence lasted for another three full seconds, the kind of silence that hangs in the air.
Then Kid Flash dropped the fork with a clinking sound, rose in a red and yellow blur, and stopped an inch from Erick, spinning around him at superspeed, examining every inch of his green skin with wide eyes and an open mouth.
"Dude... what happened to you?!" exclaimed Wally, his voice a mixture of shock, curiosity, and a hysterical tone of disbelief. He stopped abruptly in front of Erick, pointing to his green face with a trembling finger. "You're... you're green! Like, all over! Skin, hair, everything!"
Robin stood up slowly, still processing, a slight smile appearing despite the shock.
"Dude, you're completely green. What happened to you?"
Erick chuckled softly, relaxedly, his shoulders rising and falling in a casual gesture that conveyed complete control. He didn't seem shaken in the slightest—on the contrary, there was a calculating calm in his blue eyes, as if he had already dissected all the implications of that change weeks ago in virtual reality.
"Well, basically the blood transfusion that our friend here managed to donate had some side effects," he replied, pointing with his thumb at M'gann without taking his eyes off the team. He perfectly perceived the growing concern on the faces around him, but he was calm, almost satisfied. As if that transformation was just another piece of data in his Project Cloak, another tool on the path to absolute power.
M'gann floated from her chair, approaching slowly, her eyes brimming with guilt and genuine concern. She stopped before him, her hands still partially covering her mouth.
"But are you alright?" she asked, her voice trembling, almost a whisper. "I... I didn't imagine my blood could do this..."
Erick slowly raised his arms and flexed his biceps, the green muscles standing out with impressive definition, veins pulsing beneath the elastic skin. The gesture was deliberate—he wanted to show that, despite the month and a half of inactivity, his body seemed invigorated, strong, as if he had never undergone any surgery, even though he was still somewhat weakened by the time spent inactive.
"More than well," he replied, his voice firm and confident, with a glint of excitement in his eyes. "I am alive in this instant. And stronger than ever."
The others on the team stood up almost as a unit, circling around him. Superboy gave Erick a light tap on the green shoulder, smiling slightly. Aqualad watched calmly and analytically. Robin crossed his arms, already thinking of a thousand possibilities. Kid Flash was still circling around, muttering.
Black Canary, however, remained a step behind, arms crossed, expression both serious and maternal.
"But is that the only side effect?" she asked, her voice firm and authoritative. "Just the color? Nothing else?"
Erick turned to her with the same calm, almost challenging smile.
"I can't say yet. We're going to do some research and some studies."
Dinah grunted softly, taking another step closer, her gaze narrowed.
"The League can help you with that. I can schedule a meeting with Batman or Superman for a full check-up."
Erick shook his head slowly, his smile never wavering, but his voice taking on a more decisive, almost cold tone.
"I prefer to handle this myself, if you don't mind."
Black Canary made a face that showed she didn't like the answer one bit. Her lips tightened into a thin line, her blue eyes gleaming with genuine concern and a hint of professional irritation.
"Erick, we need to know exactly what's happening to your body right now. We don't know what kind of changes it might cause, or if it might affect your brain. We don't know what kind of danger you might pose—or be in."
Erick held her gaze without blinking, his green skin gleaming slightly under the cafeteria lights.
"Well... I prefer to handle this myself, if you don't mind. If something unexpected happens, I'll be the first to call you guys for help. But I prefer to deal with it alone."
Dinah let out a long, heavy sigh, clearly dissatisfied, but respecting his autonomy for now. She crossed her arms more tightly, her body tense.
Superboy, oblivious to the rising tension, approached with a wide, relaxed smile, giving Erick another friendly pat on the green shoulder.
"Green, right? Looks like you need to change your wardrobe to match your skin tone now."
Erick chuckled softly, genuinely, the sound echoing in the room.
"Yes, something to look at."
He turned and saw Starfire slowly approaching through the group, her green eyes gleaming with a mixture of relief and curiosity. Kori stopped before him, the smile slowly returning to her golden face.
"I'm glad you're adapting well to the team," Erick said to her, his voice softer now, almost affectionate. "It's clear you're doing more than well."
"I haven't had this much fun in a long time." Starfire blushed slightly—a deeper golden hue on her cheeks—and nodded enthusiastically.
"So, what's been going on in the last... in the last month that I've been unconscious?"
Robin smiled broadly, sat down again, and pulled out a chair for Erick.
"A lot, you missed some really interesting missions."
Everyone sat down again around the table, the circle closing naturally. Erick pulled Artemis to sit beside him, her green hand intertwined with his. Throughout the afternoon, while the artificial sun of the mountain simulated dusk outside, they talked. Robin recounted in animated detail the mission against Amazo—the robot that had fought against the entire League, absorbing powers, copying abilities in real time. Erick listened attentively, his eyes shining with pure scientific curiosity.
"I wish I could have faced him too," Erick commented, leaning forward with genuine excitement. "Or at least surrounded him. Imagine being able to study his properties… the absorption matrices, the adaptation circuits…"
Black Canary, still close to the young people, intervened with a more serious tone:
"It has already been sent to STAR Labs for research."
Then came the stories about micro-robots — swarms of metallic parasites that collected information, infiltrated systems, and could destroy entire cities if not stopped in time.
Erick absorbed every detail, his mind working at high speed, already drawing up plans to integrate those experiences into his own arsenal. The elemental fire pulsed in his chest, Martian blood flowed through his veins, and for the first time in months he felt complete—renewed, evolved.
The conversation stretched throughout the afternoon, laughter mixed with tense accounts, pats on the back, and worried glances that gradually transformed into acceptance. Erick was back. Green, different, stronger. And Mount Justice, for the first time in a long time, seemed whole again.
Read the chapters in advance: patreon.com/cw/pararaio