Infinite Justice Chapter 52

Silver spires stretched toward the sky, gleaming in the light and dominating the horizon, their sheer number and height creating a metallic forest that seemed endless. The streets teemed with lizard-like humanoids, their scaled forms glinting in hues of green, bronze, and gold. Many of them were accompanied by grotesque creatures—genetic aberrations with mismatched limbs, oversized jaws, and unblinking eyes. These twisted beings, clearly bred as pets or beasts of burden, shuffled obediently alongside their masters.

The infrastructure of this world appeared to rely heavily on such biological exploitation. Ground vehicles lacked engines, instead being hauled by tireless four-legged beasts with corded muscles and vacant stares. Beneath the surface, vast subterranean chambers housed hulking monstrosities, their enormous frames straining against colossal levers. These creatures, enslaved to the grind of industry, generated energy to power the sprawling network of laboratories above. But were otherwise kept completely out of mind, it seemed.

“M’gann,” I said coldly, the weight of unease settling over me like a shroud, “Reach out via comms.”

“Oh no,” Starfire whispered, her voice trembling with dread. Her hands clutched the edge of her seat, knuckles white. “We’re—we’re in the Vega star system! The Psion Homeworld! I’m so sorry, Teen Titans!” Her wide, emerald eyes glistened with a fear that struck through her usual confidence, as though every corner of this place was soaked in a terror only she could fully comprehend.

“They’re patching us through,” M’gann said, her voice tight with urgency. Her hands flew across her control desk, inputting commands with precision. A cacophony of harsh, guttural sounds blared through the cockpit speakers—a discordant barrage of alien voices, screams, and what sounded like the grind of machines.

“Translating,” M’gann said quickly, her tone clipped. The sounds warped and twisted until they resolved into coherent speech.

“—eave the Tamaranean with us, plus one more non-standard species of your world, and we shall allow you to travel back from whence you came.”

The voice was cold and clinical, each syllable cutting like the edge of a scalpel. So they wanted to play hardball.

Two could definitely play that game.

I stood up, “Guess I’m up.”

“Gojo—!” Kaldur looked at me in shock.

“No killing,” I rolled my eyes with a groan, “But they’re never going to listen to us if they think they have the upper hand.”

“Are you delusional?!” the Psion responded in shock, “You dare spit on our generous off—”

I teleported above the Bio-Ship and raised my hands. “Cursed Technique Amplification,” I muttered, “Maximum Output: Blue.”

I pushed my hand towards the crush of ships right before me. There were eighty-seven of them all around us, lying in wait.

The attractive power of my Maximum Blue wrenched them away mercilessly at tens of Gs of acceleration. I spun the ball in a wide circle surrounding us, dragging every solitary ship I could find, bunching them together in one dense cloud of ships before dispelling the technique, careful not to crush all the ships into a ball.

This would require far more precision, but between all my recent gains in power and insights into the arcane, it wouldn’t be possible.

I constructed one-hundred and seventy-four orbs of Blue, hanging one above and below every ship.

The ones below anchored the ships in space, while the ones above peeled open the ceilings of said ships, and then the tails, the wings, every part of the ships that didn’t contain any passengers. Those, I lowered down gently towards the ground, while I kept floating the debris, consolidating the Blues to create a single one matching the attractive power of the Maximum Blue. A singular orb of super-attractive power that created a giant sphere out of the scrap metal. The attractive force a so high that the center of the sphere became a core of molten metal, and even the surface began to smooth out under Blue’s gravity. The thing had to weigh almost a hundred thousand tons. I wondered what it would do if I threw it as hard as I could at the ground. It might end up leveling the city.

I scanned around for someplace relatively unpopulated, and found a desert outside this main city. I flew over there, dragging with me my giant metal meteor.

I didn’t stop flying until I was eight hundred kilometers deep into the desert.

Then I flew upwards, far up, at the edge of this world’s atmosphere.

I dropped the ball.

That… didn’t seem to make it fall as fast as I wanted. Maybe give it some extra speed? I directed a ball of Red at it to get it to fly down faster.

Then I slowed it down, as I sensed that the impact would probably be powerful enough to cause a nuclear winter if I wasn’t careful enough.

The ball hit the ground in one amazing boom. From the edge of the atmosphere, I watched the shockwave and the mushroom cloud form with fascination.

Then I remembered—the Titans. Shit.

I looked over to where I left the Bio-Ship and teleported into it.

“—You may leave! Please leave! Just—just take the destroyer with you!”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Oh? Is that how it goes, lizard face? You kidnap us to God knows where and all we get for our troubles is a way back? Don’t make me laugh. Make it worth our while, or I’ll drop a bigger ball.”

“What the hell did you do, dude?!” Wally asked in shock.

“A bit of the old kinetic bombardment,” I chuckled, “You’ll be surprised how much damage a big heavy ball of stuff does upon atmospheric re-entry.”

“No shit!” Wally shouted.

“Name your demands!”

“Uh, pfff,” I sighed. I had no idea what I wanted. Money? No. Ah, they were aliens. They were supposed to have knowledge and tech, right? “Give us all your science.”

“What?! Our science?!”

“Infinity,” Kaldur interjected, “Do you believe it is a good idea to continue sowing seeds of enmity with these people when we already got what we wanted?”

I slapped my forehead, “Hello, Megan! These guys kidnapped you, Starfire. Right? How many more kidnapped experiment subjects are on this world? Hey, lizard-face. You return to us all the intelligent experiment subjects that are here unwillingly. Then you give us your science. Then you forget about ever visiting Earth again, and I won’t make sure you and your sick slavery-fixated people go the way of the dinosaur.” Then I looked down on Kaldur, “Now, we get what we want.”

“We do not know what dinosaurs are! But we shall hurry to comply!”

I bowed ornately at the Titans, “My work here is done.”

I sat back down on my chair.

“Uh,” Wally said, “I know I’m not speaking for myself when I ask—where the hell did that giant ball of yours land?”

“Somewhere unpopulated,” I shrugged.

“I do not understand!” Starfire said in surprise, “Did Infinity truly pose such a threat to the Psions that they could acquiesce to all these demands?”

“He just said he threw a meteor at them,” Wally said.

“And that was… a sincere comment?” Starfire asked.

“You heard the lizard-guys,” Artemis shrugged.

“Ah!” I grinned, “I forgot to mention before, but I am the strongest hero on planet Earth.”

“That’s… up for debate,” Wally said sourly.

“Is it? Is it really?” I asked. “Man, I can’t wait to tell Roy about this.”

Provided he wouldn’t lose his mind from the reveal that he was a clone all along. On that note, I wondered how the League was doing on that end.

000

Blüdhaven
 September 28th, 02:49 EDT

Red Arrow regarded the accomplishments of his mission with admiration. He had busted up a human trafficking ring spearheaded by the Penguin—a whole cargo crate of young women would get to go home tonight, while the bastards that had taken them off the streets would see justice. After they got patched up from the broken bones at least. There were a lucky few that had been encased in hardened foam, but Red Arrow only had so many such arrows to spend on mooks before he had to get close and personal. And close and personal usually only meant bruises at best.

He was deep inside the portside warehouse, herding the trafficked women to a corner as he contacted the police when he heard a furious shout from near the entrance.

He whirled on his feet, grabbed his bow from his back as well as an arrow, and locked in on the threat—one gangster that he had missed, as well as a grenade in the air. It would be a close shot, but now that he had seen it, he would hit it.

Before he even had a chance to loose his arrow, something struck the grenade from the air, deviating its path. It exploded harmlessly behind a cargo crate.

A boxing glove affixed to the end of an arrow flew towards the gangster, knocking him unconscious. He ragdolled to the ground instantly, and that was that.

Red Arrow scanned around and saw Green Arrow standing on a cargo crate, admiring his shot. But the projectile that had struck the grenade hadn’t been an arrow.

He scanned the shadows and saw him. Batman walked out from the cloak of darkness, scaring the young women behind him. Roy growled at him, “I had this under control.”

“We know, Red,” Green Arrow said placatingly as he parkoured down from the crates to walk up to Roy, now next to Batman, “I didn’t mean to muscle in on your territory. That’s why we let it all play out. You did good, kid.”

Kid. Roy hated that. “So you guys were here the entire time? Were you watching me? Making sure I didn’t screw up?”

Police sirens rang in the distance. Finally. He would just have to give a statement to the police—in order to make sure that the dumb pigs wouldn’t arrest the girls for the ‘high crime’ of being trafficked against their will—and then he would be on his way.

“Not exactly,” Green Arrow said, “Actually… we have something important we need to share with you.”

A surge of excitement bubbled forth from those words, and Roy entertained for a moment the idea that he had changed the League’s mind—that they would have him in their team now. It made sense. He had accomplished much while on his own. With League resources, he would be unstoppable. 

“Take care of business first,” Batman said, glancing at the women, “And then we will talk.”

The police arrived in droves, making their arrests and taking the heroes' statements. An ambulance tailing them arrived soon after to take care of the young women—some of them had been wounded during their kidnapping attempts. 

Once that was done and over with, Red Arrow took off with the two heroes, roof-top jumping towards the nearest Zeta Tube inside a dingy alley. Green Arrow opened the door to the derelict phone booth, clearly expecting Red Arrow to walk through. 

He didn’t. Throughout the journey, neither of them had said a word, but Roy could feel the atmosphere. It was… somewhat heavy. He knew for a certainty however that this likely wasn’t about inducting him into the League. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Green Arrow sighed, “Remember that intel about there being a mole on the Teen Titans?”

Red Arrow raised an eyebrow. Weren’t they officially the ‘Titans’? “What, you found them?”

“Yes,” Batman said, “But the situation is… complicated.”

“It’s Gojo, right?” Red Arrow felt a slight flare of worry. Gojo was… powerful. Subduing him would likely require a Leaguer or two. Maybe even Superman.

“That’s not—” Green Arrow began before Batman interrupted.

“You will find the answers on the other side of this Zeta. We’re headed to the Watchtower.”

Now, Roy felt a spike of worry. Could this mean…? “Hold on—you don’t think the mole is me, do you?”

“Come on,” Green Arrow frowned and folded his arms, “If we thought you were in league with villains, why would we go through the trouble of having you come in voluntarily? Batman said it best—the situation’s complicated. You need to see it with your own eyes to understand.”

Roy considered his words for a long few seconds before nodding. “Fine.”

He walked into the Zeta Tube. It bathed him in golden light, blasting him into space.

The next thing he saw when he walked through was a giant window on the far wall, revealing a view of the Earth from orbit—a good chunk of its curvature, even.

They were telling the truth. He was finally in the Watchtower.

Green Arrow and Batman followed after him, “Green Arrow,” Batman said, “Explain to him the situation.” Then he walked up ahead.

Green Arrow followed, and then stopped to look at Roy, who was at a dead stop, “Come on. We’ll walk and talk.”

Roy followed. “What the hell is going on, Ollie?”

Green Arrow sighed, “I’m… I’m sorry, kid,” he sighed, “It’s all my fault. Everything.” He shook his head, then he turned to Roy and gave him a serious look, “None of this is on you, okay?”

“Cut the bullshit and tell me already!”

“We received a report recently,” Green Arrow said, “And we followed the lead. It… happened to point to you. As the culprit. As the mole.”

Roy growled and palmed his forehead, “This is a waste of time. I have nothing to hide.”

“I know, Roy,” Green Arrow said, “But this is bigger than just that. Bigger than whether or not you were just a mole. The thing is—we got our hands on some of your DNA.” Roy couldn’t believe his ears, “A hair sample, nothing else. Our source had a suspicion that you might be… a clone.”

Roy stopped in his tracks. 

“Nobody likes an existential crisis.” Gojo had told him. Then he had gone on to tell the League that Roy was a fucking clone.

“You heard all this from Gojo, didn’t you?” Roy frowned, “You’d take Gojo’s side over mine. Are you fucking insane, Ollie? Are you?”

“We would never take such an accusation on faith alone,” Green Arrow said to him, tone tender, “You said it best—that would be insane.”

“He gave you my hair samples?” Roy asked, “As if that was enough to determine I was a clone?”

“Of course, we sought other modes of verification as well,” Green Arrow said, “Now… come with us—and things will clear themselves up, alright?”

What the fuck? Was he hearing himself? Roy forced himself to continue walking—if he couldn’t trust the greatest heroes on the planet to not have their heads so far up their asses that it reached their chest cavity, who could he trust?

“Three years ago,” Green Arrow said, “You were kidnapped. Remember?”

“Of course I fucking remember,” Roy growled, “How could I not? I was gone for months. Unconscious, sure, but that’s not something you just forget.”

“You were kidnapped on Luthor’s orders, and held in a Cadmus facility,” Green Arrow continued, “The same sort of facility that held Superboy.”

Roy snorted, “Let me poke a hole in that theory—it made sense to clone Superboy from Kryptonian DNA. I’m just a human. Why would they want to clone me?”

“To insert an agent into the Justice League,” Green Arrow continued, mercilessly, “An agent that was utterly unaware that they were an agent, until the final moment.”

“I’m not the fucking mole!” Roy roared, “I’m not—I don’t—what, so I’m a sleeper agent or something? How the—?!” He held his head in his hands, shaking it, searching for memories. 

“Do you know what you were doing four years ago?”

How the— “Tell me the truth, Ollie,” Roy growled, “Did Gojo know that I was kidnapped three years ago?”

“He could have gotten his hands on that information through certain means—but like I said, we didn’t take this accusation on faith alone,” Green Arrow said. Ahead of them was a sliding door. Batman had already entered through it, revealing a long corridor. He had stopped before one door in the corridor, waiting for the two of them to catch up.

“What are you going to show me?” Roy asked, his voice shaking.

Green Arrow put a hand on Roy’s shoulder, “Whatever happens, Roy, just know I’ll always have your back, alright? Come hell or high water, I’m here for you. Believe me when I say that.”

Roy hesitated as they reached the door. His heart felt like it might burst out of his chest. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to run, to turn back and pretend none of this was happening.

"Whatever’s in there," he muttered, his voice shaky, "I don’t think I’m ready."

"No one ever is," Batman said quietly. Then he pressed the button.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a room that looked more like a hospital ward than anything else. The sterile scent of antiseptic hit Roy immediately, and the soft hum of medical equipment filled the air. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes scanning the room.

And then he saw him.

There, lying on a hospital bed in the center of the room, was him. Roy. Or someone who looked like him, younger and thinner, with pale, almost sickly skin. His features were unmistakably Roy’s, but there were differences: his face was more angular, his hair slightly longer and messier, and his right arm—his right arm was missing from the elbow down.

Roy froze, his breath hitching. His legs felt like lead, refusing to carry him closer. His gaze locked on the sleeping figure, who looked so fragile, so impossibly small.

"What—what is this?" Roy finally managed to croak, his voice barely above a whisper.

Batman stood near the foot of the bed, his dark figure looming like a shadow over the scene. "This is the original Roy Harper," he said bluntly.

The words hit Roy like a punch to the gut. "No," he muttered, shaking his head. "No, that’s not possible. I’m Roy Harper." He took a step back, his hands clenching into fists. "That’s not me. That’s not—"

"It’s not you," Green Arrow said softly, stepping up beside him. His voice was steady, but there was a deep sadness in it. "You’re the only you there is. But… you were cloned from his DNA."

Roy’s chest tightened as he looked back at the figure in the bed. The boy—because that’s all he looked like, a boy—was hooked up to various machines, their lights blinking steadily. An IV ran into his left arm, which was startlingly thin, the skin stretched tight over the bone. His breathing was slow but even, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that seemed almost too calm for the chaos Roy felt inside.

"He’s been in stasis for years," Batman explained. "Cadmus kept him alive, barely. They intended to extract information from him later or use him as a failsafe if you ever compromised their plans. He’s missing an arm because they used that tissue to force-grow you."

Roy staggered back, his head spinning. "I… I don’t understand," he whispered, his voice breaking. "If that’s me, then what the hell am I?"

"You’re you," Green Arrow said firmly, gripping Roy’s shoulder. "Clone or not, you’re still the same person I’ve trained, fought beside, and trusted with my life. You’re still Roy Harper."

Roy shook his head violently, his vision blurring with tears. "But if he’s me, then I’m just… I’m just a copy. A fake. I’m nothing."

"Don’t you dare say that," Green Arrow snapped, his voice sharp with emotion. He turned Roy to face him, his grip firm but not unkind. "You’re not nothing. You’re Roy Harper. You’re Red Arrow. You’ve lived your life, made your choices, and earned every bit of who you are. That doesn’t change because of this."

Roy’s gaze flicked back to the figure on the bed, and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the missing arm, the hollow cheeks, the bruises that seemed to stain the boy’s very existence.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Roy asked, his voice cracking. "Why let me walk around thinking I was… real?"

"We didn’t know for certain until recently," Batman said. "And even then, we didn’t want to act until we had proof. You deserved the truth, but we had to be sure."

“How couldn’t you know?!” Roy shouted. He knew, deep down, how unfair that question was. Who could have known? Roy certainly hadn’t.

The words didn’t feel like enough—not against the storm of emotions tearing Roy apart. He stumbled forward, his legs carrying him closer to the bed almost against his will. He stopped at the side, staring down at the sleeping boy.

His hand hovered over the boy’s shoulder, trembling. He couldn’t bring himself to touch him. It felt too surreal, too much like looking at a ghost.

"How… how do I even begin to process this?" Roy whispered, his voice barely audible.

"We’ll figure it out together," Green Arrow said, stepping up beside him. His voice was gentle now, full of a quiet determination. "No matter what, Roy, I’ve got your back. Always."

But Roy didn’t respond. His eyes were locked on the boy—on himself—and the weight of it all was suffocating.

“What comes next?” Roy whispered. “I can’t—is he in some sort of coma? Will he ever wake up?” Did he want him to wake up? A treacherous part of Roy felt that things would go so much simpler if the original just quietly ceased to be.

But an even greater part rebelled at the thought. This was the real Roy Harper. That meant that Red Arrow was duty-bound to make sure he pulled through, by any means necessary.

“He is in a medically induced coma for now,” Batman said, “We would like for his arm to be regrown before waking him up—to curtail any burgeoning trauma.”

Gojo. They needed Gojo. Roy had heard of how the asshole had healed back Robin’s arm after a particularly devastating mission involving Amazo—an episode that had spilled over to every aspect of Roy’s own hero work, now that the country was once again infested with the worst criminals known to man.

And now Gojo would be called in to help, to intervene in this situation.

The thought of it alone was almost enough to send Roy over the edge of hysterics. “How could he know?” Roy whispered, “How could Gojo know this? Isn’t that the least bit suspicious?”

“Roy,” Green Arrow said, “Why would Gojo go out of his way to reveal this if he wasn’t on our side?”

“He can perceive souls,” Batman said, “And he perceived that yours was… younger than should make sense.”

“Has he told the team?” Roy asked numbly.

“He reserved that responsibility to me,” Batman said, “Though I will not reveal anything without your consent. And I would like to remind you—you don’t need to say anything until you’re ready.” Ready? Give me a fucking break, there was no getting ready for a talk like that. He’d just have to do it at some point, whether or not he was ready. That might as well be now.

“I’ll have to say something,” Roy scowled, “This… I’m not their real friend. He is,” Roy gestured at the unconscious form of his… original. 

“That’s not true,” Green Arrow said, “He never met Robin, Kid Flash or Aqualad. Neither did he train besides me for as long as you did.”

“What, so you’ll take my side over his?” Roy asked angrily, feeling a sudden surge of loyalty.

“No one is taking any sides,” Green Arrow said.

“But if you were, it wouldn’t be his,” Roy said sharply, “That’s the impression I’m getting. You… you failed us, Ollie. You—”

“Oliver had no reason to continue searching for the original version of Roy Harper,” Batman butted in, “Nor did he have the means or motive to verify that you were the original. No one is to blame for this, Roy. And as for what comes next,” Batman said, “I would like for you to surrender yourself to a telepathic investigation by the Martian Manhunter, to search for any psychic suggestions that might have been planted by Cadmus. You will need to do so before leaving either of our sights.”

Batman’s tone, and what little remained of Roy’s rationality in the face of this mess, curtailed an angry response. He was right—totally right. Leaving Roy to wander unsupervised in the Watchtower would be the height of recklessness. “And where is Martian Manhunter?”

“Coordinating with the Green Lanterns—the Titans were caught in a spatial anomaly that transported them across the galaxy, to a place called the Psion Homeworld.” Roy widened his eyes in shock.

“Are they okay?”

“They sent a message back,” Batman said, “They managed to secure the cooperation of the Psions that abducted them in the first place. A few hours have passed since then—ostensibly to bring back other abductees of the Psions.”

Green Arrow sighed, “Apparently, there’s thousands—aliens of every description, kidnapped and having experiments run on them. The Lanterns are gonna have their work cut out for them.”

“Why are they doing this?” Roy asked, befuddled. “Weren’t they abducted by these aliens? And now they’re sending other abductees back?”

“Gojo dropped a big old ball of metal from orbit,” Green Arrow snorted, “He held back not to do it in a population center, or with more speed apparently, but the aliens got the picture. It was either giving them and others like them a way back or risk an extinction event,” Ollie smirked at Roy, “It’s part of the reason why I wouldn’t put much stock in the idea that Gojo’s a traitor or a mole. Way too many extra steps considering what he can do once he just stops holding back.”

Despite himself, Roy shuddered. Then, his eyes once again caught sight of the real Roy Harper.

He still had no idea how to unpack this. He knew, intuitively, that he needed to get the big stuff out of the way before addressing the myriad smaller concerns. On that note, he asked, “What happens when he wakes up?”

“He will be apprised of his situation,” Batman said, “What he decides to do afterwards will be up to him.”

Roy could almost imagine the disappointment and the loathing he would feel. He turned to Ollie, feeling almost apologetic as he said, “He’s going to hate you, you know.”

Ollie sighed, “I… gathered.”

He had other concerns as well—he’d need to change his name at some point. Very soon, perhaps. He couldn’t think of specifics though. Not now.

“He won’t hate you,” Ollie said, “At fifteen, you were a lot of things, but he would know not to take his anger or confusion out on you. You’re both in the same boat.”

Roy looked down at his own face and nodded. That was true. No matter what this kid ended up deciding to do, Roy would have his back. He just hoped the Roy on the bed would accept his hand when the time for them to meet formally came.