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Chapter Text

The dimensional rift shimmered with an iridescent light, its energy swirling around Evira Vladimere Hellsubsus and her children as they tumbled through the tear in reality. The sensation was a familiar one—disorienting, like a thousand whispers pulling at her skin. 

Her feet hit solid ground with a thud, and she straightened up with a practiced grace. Despite the fatigue from the prolonged travel and the weight of her prosthetics, her posture unyielding.

Her Orange Lantern Ring, pulsed softly on her finger, its glow faint but steady. It was a reminder that, no matter where they were, she still held the reins of control.

“Mom?” came a small, hesitant voice. Harry, only ten years old again, clung to the hem of her robes. His green eyes, filled with equal parts awe and trepidation, scanned the unfamiliar skyline.

“It’s alright, Harry,” Evira said, her voice calm but commanding, as it always was when the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. “This is where we need to be.”

“But where are we?” Hermione asked, her voice sharp with curiosity, stood beside Harry, her hand tightly gripping Neville’s. The older boy, though shy, gave a hesitant nod.

“This dimension,” Evira began, her fingers brushing against the magical runes etched into the fabric of her robes, “is a place where we can regroup. But we must remain cautious. Every world has its dangers.”

Behind her, Tom Riddle—now a teenager once more—leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. His sharp features betrayed a smirk. “Cautious? We’re travelers through time and space. If we can handle magical wars, I think we can handle whatever this world throws at us.”

Evira shot him a look, her fiery red eyes narrowing. “This world has its own dangers, Tom. And I won’t tolerate recklessness. We stick together. Always.”

Teddy Lupin, a baby in her arms again cooed softly, blissfully unaware of the tension in the air. Evira adjusted him gently, the warmth of her love for him grounding her. 

In that moment, she was both a protector and a leader, juggling the heavy burden of responsibility with a fierce maternal instinct. 

Her other children were her driving force, the reason she kept pushing forward in her quest for redemption, no matter the cost.

Suddenly, her prosthetic eye—powered by magic and technology—glimmered faintly. A flicker of movement caught her attention. She turned sharply, her senses on high alert, scanning the skyline. It was subtle, but undeniable—a figure darting across the rooftops. A flash of red and yellow.

Her heart quickened, and her mind raced. A speedster, perhaps? Or something more? She couldn’t be sure, but it was enough to set her nerves on edge. Heroes, she thought bitterly. Again.

The park they had found themselves in was serene, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows across the grass, hiding away from the public.

Evira sat on a weathered bench beneath the canopy of a great oak tree, surrounded by her children. The calmness of the scene was a rare gift, a brief moment of peace that she didn’t trust to last.

Her enhanced prosthetic eye glowed faintly as she poured over a holographic projection of runes and magical formulas, her focus unyielding. 

She had made a promise to herself—and to her children—that she would find a cure for the magical disease that had ravaged her world, and this place, this new dimension, might hold the answers she so desperately needed.

Nearby, Harry and Hermione sat cross-legged on the grass, engaged in an animated debate about strategy over a magical gameboard.

Their voices, full of youthful energy, mingled with the rustling of the leaves in the soft breeze. Neville, sitting a bit apart from them, occasionally offered shy commentary, though he preferred to watch rather than engage too deeply.

Tom as always the aloof one, sat on a stone bench under the shade of the tree, twirling a small knife between his fingers with unnerving precision. The sharp gleam of the blade reflected the sunlight, and though he kept his distance from the others, his presence was ever palpable.

Baby Teddy, nestled in the floating bassinet beside Evira, gurgled softly in his sleep. The small, innocent sounds.

But even in this moment of supposed peace, Evira’s senses were razor-sharp. Every so often, she would glance up from her calculations, her eyes scanning the surrounding park with practiced subtlety. She couldn’t afford to lower her guard, not here, not in a new dimension.

She had taken every precaution to remain hidden—traveling in secret, masking their arrival, and making sure no one could trace them to this world. But she knew better than to think it would be enough. Nothing is ever foolproof.

She trusted their ability to protect themselves, but there were always forces beyond her control. Always the unknown. And just as she thought she might have allowed herself to relax.

Her breath caught in her throat as a disturbance rippled through the park. In the space of a heartbeat, it happened.

Evira’s instincts kicked in, and before she could fully process what was happening, a figure appeared out of nowhere, darting into the shadows. She barely registered the movement—something fast, something dangerous—and then a scream shattered the calm.

Her eyes snapped to the sound. Harry.

She was on her feet in an instant, her magical energy flowing through her veins, her body moving on pure reflex. 

The familiar agony of her prosthetics flared as she raced towards her son, but there was no time to focus on the pain. Harry, Hermione, and Neville had been caught off guard. Someone had grabbed him—pulled him away.

“Mom!” Harry’s voice, full of panic, echoed through the park. His eyes were wide with fear as he struggled against the figure who held him captive.

Evira’s heart surged. She didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate. With a flick of her wrist, her ring flared to life, a barrier of energy forming between her and the figure. A sound of frustration echoed from the assailant as they fought to break free. 

It was too late. By the time Evira managed to catch up, the kidnapper had disappeared into the shadows, leaving Harry’s screams echoing through the now-quiet park.

“Harry!” Evira shouted, her voice laced with fury. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Her legs gave way beneath her, the agony too much to bear.

Evira took a deep breath, the air heavy in her lungs. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The terror she felt for her son was undeniable, but there was no time for hesitation. She couldn’t afford to break down. Not now.

Her children were safe. But Harry… Harry was gone.

With a final, lingering glance at her children, Evira stood tall once more, her prosthetic limbs groaning with the effort, and turned on her heel, heading toward the only place that could offer answers.

The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Text

The dim glow of Evira’s magical runes flickered faintly against the crumbling brick walls of the abandoned warehouse. Two months had passed since their arrival in this dimension, and only a week since the catastrophic abduction. The night when Harry was taken was etched into Evira’s mind, every detail replaying endlessly as a reminder of her failure.

Now, her relentless pursuit had brought them to Gotham, the layers of corruption here were a fertile ground for organizations like the one that had dared to take her son.

Evira sat cross-legged in the center of the warehouse, her prosthetic arm resting on her knee as she pored over the magical projection she’d conjured. Strings of interconnected runes and glowing symbols danced in midair, forming a web of clues she’d painstakingly pieced together. Each rune pulsed faintly, representing potential leads and sightings of the group that had taken Harry.

Hermione and Neville sat nearby, their movements were subdued, the weight of their missing brother silencing their usual banter. Teddy lay sleeping in his bassinet, his soft coos occasionally breaking the stillness.

Tom stood apart, his back against a pillar, his sharp eyes flicking toward the shadows outside the rune-marked barrier. “We’ve been here too long,” he muttered, spinning his knife lazily between his fingers.

Evira didn’t look up. “This city holds answers. We move when we have them.”

Tom scoffed but said nothing more.

Neville finally broke the tense silence. “Do you think… he’s okay?” His voice was small, barely audible, but it carried the weight of their collective fear.

Evira’s glowing red eyes softened as she turned to him. “Harry is strong. Stronger than any of you give him credit for.” Her voice was calm, deliberate, a stark contrast to the turmoil she felt inside. “And I will bring him back. That is not a promise—it’s a certainty.”

As if in response to her words, the faint shimmer of a rune at the edge of the projection grew brighter. A lead—an energy signature she’d been tracking—had resurfaced.

“It’s them,” she whispered, rising to her feet. Her magical tattoos flared to life, casting a faint glow on the warehouse walls.

Tom pushed off the pillar, his knife vanishing into his sleeve. “Where?”

“Near the Narrows,” Evira replied, the Orange Lantern Ring on her finger glowing faintly as it synced with her magical detection spells. “A research facility. He’s there, or at least someone who knows where he is.”

Neville and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. “You’re not going alone, are you?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“I’ll ensure your safety first,” Evira said, tightening the protective enchantments around the warehouse. “The wards will hold. Stay inside. Do not leave, no matter what you hear.”

Before any of them could argue, a sound interrupted them—a faint scrape of boots on the concrete floor.

Evira’s prosthetic arm began to glow, magical energy pooling in her palm. Her children huddled closer together as the sound grew louder, accompanied by the faint swish of a cape.

From the shadows, two figures emerged. The first wore a cowl and cape, his silhouette imposing and his eyes sharp with scrutiny. The second was clad in red and yellow, his confident smirk barely visible beneath a black domino mask.

The younger one was the first to speak, his smirk widening. “Looks like we’ve got company, Bats.”

Evira blinked, forcing the memory away. The cowl-clad figure stepped forward, his voice low and commanding. “You’re a long way from home.”

Evira’s glowing red eyes locked onto him, her hand flexing as the energy around her swirled. “And what do you know of my home?”

“Enough to know you’re looking for something,” Batman replied. “Or someone.”

The man in red smirked, his tone far lighter. “Judging by the look in her eyes, Bats, I’d say she’s not exactly here to make friends.”

Evira’s voice was calm but edged with steel. “If you’re not here to help, stay out of my way.”

Batman held her gaze, his expression unreadable. “If you want answers, you’ll need to trust us.”

“Trust is earned,” Evira snapped. Her Orange Lantern Ring flared brightly, and the shadows around her deepened. “And I don’t have time for games.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the two parties locked in a silent standoff. But in the back of her mind, Evira couldn’t help but wonder—if she played her cards right, could these heroes be the allies she so desperately needed?

Evira’s voice was icy and commanding. “Identify yourselves.”

The man in black stepped forward, his cape shifting with a deliberate elegance that matched the weight of his presence. “Batman.”

“And Robin,” the younger one added, his tone far less serious, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes as he took in the glowing runes and the tense figures of Evira’s children.

Batman’s eyes swept across the room, lingering on the bassinet where Teddy stirred softly, the faint glow of Evira’s Orange Lantern Ring, and the intricate magical projections that filled the space with a dim, otherworldly light. 

His silence spoke volumes, heavy with calculation and suspicion. Finally, he broke it. “This world has rules. If you’re willing to follow them, we might be able to help.”

Evira allowed herself the faintest smirk, her tone smooth, almost velvety. “Rules, Batman? What are rules but the comfortable lies we tell ourselves to keep order? I don’t follow rules. I make my own.”

Batman’s expression hardened, the unyielding set of his jaw betraying none of his thoughts. “And that,” he said coldly, “might be a problem.”

“Only if you let it be,” Evira replied, her voice a perfect blend of charm and defiance. She took a measured step forward, her prosthetic arm shifting slightly.“I’m not here to disrupt your precious order, Batman. I’m here because my son was taken, and the trail led me to this city.”

Robin tilted his head, his gaze flicking between Evira and the magical runes. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of fancy tools to help you. So why the cloak-and-dagger routine? Why not just… ask for help?”

Evira’s eyes flashed, and her smirk deepened. “Because help always comes with strings, little bird. And I’ve had enough of those to last several lifetimes.”

Batman crossed his arms, his posture unwavering. “If you want answers, you’ll have to trust someone eventually. This city isn’t kind to lone operators.”

Evira tilted her head, the faint glow of her prosthetic eye catching the dim light of the runes. “Trust is a luxury I can’t afford, Batman. And alliances? They’re tools, not lifelines. Tools I’m willing to use if they suit my purpose.”

Robin’s grin faltered slightly as her words sank in. Batman, however, remained impassive, his silence speaking louder than any retort.

Evira sensed the shift in the room and leaned into it, her voice taking on a softer, almost conciliatory edge. “But I’m not unreasonable. You have your goals. I have mine. Perhaps there’s… overlap.”

“Perhaps,” Batman replied, his voice neutral, though the edge of skepticism was unmistakable.

Evira stepped back, allowing her children to come into view once more. “My family and I don’t intend to stay in your city any longer than necessary. Find my son, and we’ll be gone. No strings. No disruptions.”

“And what happens if we don’t?” Robin challenged, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Then I’ll find him myself,” Evira said simply, her tone sharp enough to cut steel.

Batman’s eyes narrowed, studying her for a long moment. “You’re hiding something.”

Evira’s smirk returned, but this time, it was colder. “Everyone hides something, Batman. Even you. But rest assured, my secrets have no bearing on you or your city.”

The silence that followed crackled with tension. Evira knew she was walking a fine line, but she also knew how to wield silence as a weapon. Let them think they had the upper hand. Let them think she was vulnerable. She had played this game countless times, and she was far from losing her edge.

Finally, Batman turned to Robin. “We’ll investigate. But we’ll be watching.”

Evira inclined her head slightly, a gesture that could have been mistaken for gratitude but was laced with veiled amusement. “Of course you will. It’s what you do best, isn’t it?”

Without another word, Batman turned, his cape sweeping behind him as he disappeared into the shadows. Robin lingered a moment longer, his youthful bravado faltering under Evira’s unrelenting gaze, before he, too, vanished into the night.

As the sound of their departure faded, Evira exhaled softly, her smirk fading into a contemplative frown. She turned back to her children, her voice low but firm. “We proceed as planned.”

Tom stepped forward, his lips curling into a sly grin. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I always do,” Evira replied, her fiery red eyes gleaming in the dim light. “And I always win.”

With a wave of her hand, the magical projections shifted, the runes reconfiguring into a more intricate map. She studied it intently, her mind already several steps ahead. Allies, enemies, or pawns—she didn’t care what role they played. All that mattered was bringing Harry back. And she would stop at nothing to make that happen.

Using the clues provided by Batman and Robin—vehicle descriptions, faint energy signatures left by the agents’ devices, and patterns in their movements—Evira pieced together the puzzle of Harry’s abduction with unrelenting focus. 

The facility hidden beneath the city, pulsing with energy and secrecy, was her destination.

“Cadmus,” she whispered, her voice laced with both recognition and disdain. The name felt like a bitter taste in her mouth. Even in this dimension, the name carried weight—a shadowy organization steeped in control and experimentation. 

Her first instinct was to charge in, unleashing the full force of her power, to tear the place apart brick by brick until she had her son back. But her presence here was precarious enough, and a reckless assault would almost certainly bring more attention of this world’s heroes—or worse, its villains.

Instead, she waited.

Positioned within the shadows of a long-abandoned office building across from Cadmus, Evira observed. 

Her prosthetic eye zoomed in on every movement around the facility—guards pacing, subtle changes in the energy barriers, and the comings and goings of unmarked vehicles. Cadmus was alive with activity, its secrets thrumming beneath the surface.

And then, as night settled over the city, she spotted them.

The Justice League. Superman, Flash, Aquaman—they were clustered near the entrance, their presence both imposing and purposeful. Evira stiffened, her eyes narrowing. 

From her vantage point, she could see the tension in their postures as they debated, gesturing toward the facility. Were they planning to act? Or were they simply monitoring? Her mind raced, weighing the possibilities.

Moments later, the decision seemed to be made for them. The League members departed abruptly, called away by some other crisis.

Evira’s prosthetic eye glimmered faintly as she adjusted her focus. Her attention shifted to the shadows near the facility’s entrance, where a smaller group emerged from the periphery. Younger, less disciplined, yet determined.

Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad. The trio moved with purpose, slipping into the hidden depths of Cadmus without hesitation.

Evira’s lips curved into a faint, sardonic smirk. “baby,” she muttered under her breath, they were young, yes, but they were no mere amateurs. Their movements betrayed training, coordination. 

Her prosthetic eye detected a surge in the facility’s energy output as the young team descended further. Alarms were being triggered, though muted, likely isolated within Cadmus itself. 

Evira leaned forward, her sharp eyes locked on the facility. This was the opening she had been waiting for.

“They’ll either succeed or fail spectacularly,” she murmured to herself. Her voice was cool, measured, devoid of panic.

She turned to her children, who waited tensely behind her. “Stay here,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. “The wards will protect you. I won’t be long.”

Neville’s eyes widened. “You’re going in after them?”

Evira glanced back, her expression unreadable. “I’m going in for Harry.”

With that, she stepped into the night, her Orange Lantern Ring flaring briefly before dimming to a faint glow. Shadows seemed to gather around her as she moved, her presence slipping seamlessly into the darkness. She approached Cadmus with the practiced precision of a predator.

All Evira had to do was stay one step ahead and ensure that no one, not even these fledgling heroes, got in her way.

Superboy burst from his pod, his eyes glowing red as he glared at the group. Robin, Aqualad, and Kid Flash instinctively fell into defensive stances, bracing themselves for what was to come.

"Don’t come any closer," Kid Flash warned, his voice tinged with both bravado and nervousness.

Superboy’s growl echoed through the lab. Without a word, he lunged at them, faster and stronger than they anticipated. His fist connected with Aqualad’s water-bearer shield, sending the Atlantean skidding back across the floor.

"We just freed you!" Robin shouted, dodging a punch with a quick backflip. "Not exactly how I imagined a ‘thank you.’"

Superboy’s movements were relentless, mechanical. Aqualad recovered quickly, stepping between Superboy and the others. "We are not your enemies," he said firmly, blocking another blow.

"Programming," Robin muttered as he scrambled to access the lab’s computer systems. "Cadmus must have hardwired his loyalty into him."

"Then how do we stop him without hurting him?" Kid Flash asked, zipping to avoid a laser-eyed blast.

"We don’t fight him," Aqualad replied, his tone steady even as Superboy advanced. "We show him he has a choice."

Robin smirked. "Great plan. You talk him down while we get pummeled."

As Aqualad continued to defend himself, he locked eyes with Superboy. "You are more than a weapon. Think! This is not your purpose!"

Superboy hesitated. The glow in his eyes dimmed, if only for a moment, as alarms blared and G-Gnomes scurried into the room, ready to reassert their control.

"Robin!" Aqualad barked. "Shut them down!"

Alarms blared, red lights pulsed, and scientists scurried in every direction as containment protocols failed. Superboy was still grappling with his newfound freedom, the team was holding their ground, and the G-Gnomes were complicating every move.

The door to the lab burst open with a clang, drawing everyone’s attention.

A boy—barely ten years old—darted into the room, a look of fierce determination etched on his young face. His wild black hair was damp with sweat, and his emerald eyes seemed to glint with an otherworldly intensity. 

He moved quickly, his small frame easily dodging past two Cadmus security guards who reached for him.

“Get back here, kid!” one of the guards barked, but the boy ducked under his grasp and kicked over a cart of equipment, sending it careening into the other guard.

"Who the heck is that?" Kid Flash blurted, momentarily distracted as the boy skidded to a halt, eyes locking with Superboy.

Robin narrowed his gaze,“Definitely not on Cadmus’ payroll.”

“Harry?” Superboy’s voice cut through the chaos, for a moment, his rage abated.

The boy’s face lit up with relief. “You’re awake! I thought—I thought they’d never—”

A G-Gnome leaped at him from the shadows, its claws outstretched. But Harry was ready.

A glowing blade materialized in his hand, emerging like liquid light from a rune on his forearm. He swung it in an arc, the blade slicing through the G-Gnome and sending it sprawling.

“What is happening right now?!” Kid Flash shouted, his eyes wide as Harry squared off against a second wave of G-Gnomes.

“Focus!” Aqualad barked, deflecting an incoming guard with a fluid strike from his water-bearer. “But… that boy is not ordinary.”

“You think?” Robin retorted, throwing a smoke bomb to cover Harry as another guard closed in on him.

Harry moved with a precision and ferocity that belied his age, cutting through the chaos with his glowing sword. He ducked and weaved through the G-Gnomes, his strikes precise but almost instinctual, as if he were running on pure adrenaline.

“Superboy,” Harry called out, his voice strained as he dodged another swipe. “You’ve got to help them! You’re free now!”

Superboy, his eyes flicking between Harry and the team, seemed to hesitate for a moment. But when Harry stumbled, nearly overrun by a swarm of G-Gnomes, something snapped. 

With a guttural roar, Superboy charged forward, his fists smashing into the creatures, scattering them like ragdolls.

Robin, still fighting off guards, called out, “Okay, I officially like this kid.”

“Agreed,” Aqualad said, his tone calm despite the storm of activity around him.

As the fight raged on, Dr. Mark Desmond entered the lab, his face twisted in fury. In his hand, he held a syringe filled with a glowing green liquid.

“Enough!” Desmond bellowed, his voice booming over the alarms. “You think you can defy me? I made you!” His eyes locked on Superboy, but he spared a furious glance at Harry as well. “And you’re just a mistake ! All of you are nothing without Cadmus!”

Without hesitation, Desmond plunged the syringe into his arm, his body convulsing as the formula took hold. His muscles expanded grotesquely, his skin turning an unnatural shade as he began to grow.

“What is he doing to himself?” Harry asked, his grip tightening on his sword.

“Something very stupid,” Robin replied, grimacing as the transformation completed.

The Blockbuster loomed over them now, a massive, hulking figure of raw power. He roared, the sound shaking the very walls of the lab.

“Team,” Aqualad said, his tone calm but urgent.

Chapter Text

The lab was a warzone. Superboy, Harry, and the young heroes fought amid flashing alarms, smoke, and the chaos of Cadmus security guards scrambling to subdue them.

Superboy’s fists collided with another wave of guards, sending them flying into the walls like ragdolls. He moved with raw, unrelenting power, his pent-up rage bursting forth as though he were determined to take down Cadmus brick by brick.

“On your left, Superboy!” Harry shouted, ducking under a swing from a guard.

Harry was a blur of energy, weaving through the chaos with a speed and agility that belied his ten-year-old appearance.

His glowing sword, carved through weapons and constructs alike. Sparks flew as his blade met steel, and he danced out of reach before his enemies could react.

Despite their growing bond, Superboy and Harry weren’t perfectly in sync. Superboy’s devastating punches often forced Harry to dive for cover.

“Superboy, watch it!” Harry yelled as a piece of shattered machinery narrowly missed his head.

“Then stay out of my way!” Superboy growled back, though there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

Across the room, the rest of the team wasn’t faring much better.

“Robin! Behind you!” Aqualad warned, his water-bearers swirling to deflect an incoming G-Gnome.

Robin turned in time to throw a pair of batarangs, hitting his target with precision. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” he snapped, before Kid Flash accidentally zipped past him, nearly knocking him over.

“Could you maybe not stand in my lane, Boy Wonder?” Kid Flash quipped, skidding to a halt to disarm a guard.

“Your lane?” Robin shot back. “You’re the one cutting me off!”

“Focus!” Aqualad’s commanding voice rang out as he slammed his water-bearers into the ground, creating a shockwave that cleared a path.

Blockbuster loomed at the center of the chaos, his mutated form shrugging off every attack. His roar shook the room, and with a swing of his massive arm, he sent Aqualad crashing into a wall.

“I could use a little help here!” Aqualad groaned, forcing himself to his feet.

Before anyone could respond, a loud crack echoed above them.

The ceiling exploded.

All eyes turned upward as debris rained down, and a glowing figure descended from the chaos above. She landed on Blockbuster’s back with a resounding crash, forcing him to the ground. 

The air grew heavy with the oppressive glow of her orange aura.

“Mom!” Harry’s voice rang out, relief flooding his face. He darted toward her, his sword disappearing.

The Orange Lantern’s hardened expression softened as she caught him mid-dash, pulling him into a tight hug. Her voice, though calm, carried a quiet intensity. “Are you hurt?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m fine, but you’ve gotta meet someone!” He wriggled free and gestured toward Superboy, who stood frozen, staring at the scene in confusion. “Mom, this is Superboy! Can we keep him? Like… adopt him?”

Evira blinked, caught off guard. “Adopt him?” She ran a hand down her face, exasperation creeping into her voice. “When,” she muttered, “did I become an orphanage again?”

“Please? He’s awesome!” Harry insisted, a wide grin spreading across his face. “And he’s kinda like me!”

Superboy, unsure how to react, glanced at the rest of the team, who were equally stunned.

Robin, however, was staring at Evira with narrowed eyes. “I know you,” he said slowly.

Evira’s sharp gaze turned to him, her expression unreadable. “Do you?”

“You’re that lady who worked with Batman in Gotham,” Robin said, his voice tinged with suspicion. “You disappeared after you got what you wanted. Tricked him.”

Evira smirked. “Sounds like me,” she replied, her tone casual. Her eyes flicked back to Harry. “Let’s not air all my secrets right now, shall we?”

Meanwhile, Blockbuster groaned beneath her, struggling to rise. Without looking down, Evira pressed her glowing construct heel into his back, forcing him deeper into the floor. 

Her aura flared, her demeanor shifting from calm to menacing in an instant.

“You kidnapped my son,” she said, her voice icy and dangerous. The room seemed to grow darker, the oppressive orange light casting long shadows. 

Her presence was overwhelming, a mix of raw power and righteous fury. The young heroes instinctively stepped back.

“Uh… is anyone else a little terrified right now?” Kid Flash whispered.

“Just a little,” Robin muttered, though he didn’t look away from her.

Harry, however, seemed unfazed. He tugged at her sleeve. “Mom, can you not scare my new friends?”

Evira’s expression softened as she looked at him. “They’ll live,” she said simply, but her glare returned when she looked at Blockbuster. “This one? Not so much.”

Blockbuster growled, attempting to rise, but Evira stomped down hard, her glowing construct sending cracks through the floor.

“I suggest you stay down,” she warned, her voice deadly calm.

Blockbuster’s guttural growls turned to a roar as Evira’s glowing construct heel pressed him further into the floor, for a moment, it seemed she was merely holding him down but then her free hand flicked forward.

Blockbuster screamed.

It wasn’t a roar of rage this time but one of pure agony. His massive body convulsed as invisible tendrils of pain coursed through him, causing even the toughest of Cadmus guards to blanch.

“Is… is she torturing him?” Robin asked, his voice hushed but tinged with alarm.

“I think the better question is how is she torturing him?” Kid Flash replied, shuffling a half-step behind Aqualad for protection.

“I don’t know what it is,” Aqualad said cautiously, his hands gripping his water-bearers. “But it’s… unnatural.”

Superboy, standing stiffly a few feet away, watched the scene with wide eyes. His hands clenched into fists, though he didn’t seem to know what to do.

Evira, however, was completely unbothered by their murmurs. She lifted her hand slightly, releasing the spell, only to recast it moments later when Blockbuster tried to rise again. His screams echoed through the crumbling lab, mixing with the shrill alarms and distant sounds of structural collapse.

Her other hand lifted. Streams of orange light extended outward, snaking around the room to corral the remaining scientists and security personnel. The constructs dragged them to one corner, binding them tightly in glowing chains.

“That’s… efficient,” Robin muttered, though his unease didn’t waver.

With another flick of her wrist, a cloud of butterflies materialized in shimmering, prismatic hues. The tiny creatures darted toward the monitors and consoles, their delicate wings moving too fast for the naked eye. Despite their beauty, there was something unsettling about their synchronized movement as they burrowed into the systems, extracting data with precision.

“What the heck are those?” Kid Flash whispered.

“Techno-magical hybrids,” Robin murmured back. “I think. I’ve never seen them like that.”

Superboy shifted uncomfortably as Evira continued her torment of Blockbuster. Each time she cast the invisible spell, his cries grew more desperate, and Superboy’s expression darkened. “What is she doing to him?” he finally asked, his voice low but taut with tension.

Harry, who was still tucked close to Evira’s side, glanced up. “It’s called Crucio ,” he said casually, as though discussing the weather. “It hurts. A lot. But he deserves it.”

“Harry.”

The boy froze at the sound of his mother’s voice. Evira’s tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried a weight that made him pause.

“Mom,” Harry said softly, tugging on her sleeve. “You’re scaring them.” He paused, then added, “Especially him.” He pointed to Superboy.

Evira’s expression softened just a fraction as her gaze flicked to Superboy, whose conflicted expression was impossible to miss. With a heavy sigh, she released the spell and stepped back from Blockbuster’s prone form.

“Fine,” she muttered, though her irritation was evident. She turned to Harry and adjusted him in her arms. “But only because you asked.”

The team barely had a moment to breathe before the floor beneath them groaned, the structure finally succumbing to the damage from their battle. Pieces of debris rained down, and the room tilted precariously.

“Building’s coming down!” Aqualad shouted.

“We need to move—now!” Robin added.

Evira, however, seemed entirely unconcerned. With a wave of her hand, more orange constructs formed, lifting every single person in the room off their feet.

“What the—” Robin yelped as he was swept into the air, suspended in an orange bubble.

“Hey, I can run just fine!” Kid Flash protested, flailing in his own bubble.

Aqualad remained stoic, though his unease was evident. Even Blockbuster, unconscious but still breathing, was wrapped in a glowing construct and hauled along with the others.

Evira ignored their protests as she floated upward, Harry securely in her arms. “Hold on,” she said simply, her voice calm as ever.

The entire group was carried through the collapsing lab with effortless ease, Evira navigating the chaos with a precision that made it clear she had done this before.

Harry nestled securely in her arms, his tiny hands clutching at her armor. He leaned up, his green eyes earnest. “Mom. We have to keep him.”

Evira, guiding the group effortlessly through the destruction, quirked an eyebrow but didn’t slow down. “Keep who?” she asked.

“Superboy,” Harry said, pointing to the brooding young man hovering in a bubble beside them. “He doesn’t even have a name ! And he’s just a baby!”

Superboy stiffened. “I’m not a—”

“You’re a baby ,” Harry interrupted firmly, as though that settled the matter.

Robin stared incredulously at Harry. “Okay, time out. You’re telling me he’s calling Superboy a baby?” he asked, gesturing toward the clone’s towering frame.

“Uh, I’m also stuck on the ‘keep him’ part,” Kid Flash chimed in, his arms folded. “Since when are we talking about keeping people?”

Superboy’s expression twisted with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. “I don’t need to be kept, ” he growled, though his voice lacked the conviction he probably intended.

Evira glanced at her son, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Harry, you can’t just decide to ‘keep’ someone. People aren’t stray cats.”

“He’s not a cat,” Harry said stubbornly. “He’s a clone. Of Superman. But, like, less. ”

“ Less ?” Superboy snapped, the frustration in his voice boiling over.

“Harry,” Evira said warningly, though there was a flicker of laughter in her eyes.

“What? It’s true!” Harry huffed. He looked back at his mother.. “He needs us. He doesn’t have anyone else. And we’re already good at this, Mom. You’re basically a professional kid collector.”

Evira froze mid-flight, arching an eyebrow at him. “A professional kid collector ?”

“Well,” Harry said, counting on his fingers, “there’s me. And then—”

“We’re not doing this,” Evira cut in.

Robin was furiously typing on his wrist computer. “Okay, wait a second, ” he said, glaring at the mother-son duo. “You’re saying Superboy’s a clone of Superman? Where did that come from?”

Harry shrugged, leaning comfortably against Evira. “It’s obvious. He looks like Superman but younger. And angrier. Also, less.”

“ Less?! ” Superboy barked again, his fists clenching, though his indignation was undercut by his lingering confusion.

Evira rolled her eyes. “Harry, stop antagonizing him. You’re giving him a complex.”

“I’m not! I like him!” Harry protested. “That’s why I want to keep him!”

Kid Flash threw his hands up. “Does anyone else feel like we’re watching a really weird sitcom?”

Aqualad furrowed his brow as he addressed Evira directly. “You seem to know a great deal about this facility—and perhaps more than we do about the boy. Who exactly are you?”

Evira glanced at him briefly, unimpressed. “Someone who knows what she needs to know,” she replied curtly. “And who’s very good at keeping people alive. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Mom’s the best,” Harry chimed in proudly, looking up at her.

“Obviously,” Evira replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “But back to this —what about Superman? Maybe he’d want the kid. He is his clone, after all.”

Harry scowled. “Superman can cry about it. I already claimed him.”

Evira’s steps faltered for half a second before she let out a soft laugh. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered.

“And you love me for it,” Harry replied with a cheeky grin.

Evira sighed heavily but didn’t argue. Instead, she adjusted Harry in her arms and turned her attention back to navigating the chaos. 

The building groaned ominously around them, the structure crumbling faster now.

“Everyone hold on,” she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. Her orange constructs tightened around their passengers, even Blockbuster, unconscious and bruised, was hauled along like excess baggage. The glowing butterflies returned to her side.

“Uh, can we please talk about this?” Kid Flash asked, gesturing wildly. “Because I feel like I’m missing a lot right now.”

“We’ll talk later,” Evira said dismissively, her focus on steering them toward safety. “Maybe.”

The team exchanged uncertain glances as they floated helplessly in her constructs. Superboy, however, was unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on Harry and Evira. Despite his protests, there was a faint glimmer of something—hope?—in his expression as he watched them.

The cadmus facility collapsed into a smoking pile of rubble behind them, the ground trembling underfoot as the last of the explosions faded into the night.

Evira floated gracefully to the ground, her constructs unraveling as she gently set everyone down.

Harry remained securely in her arms, his face pressed against her shoulder. 

“Are you hurt?” she asked, her tone carrying a surprising tenderness.

“I’m fine,” Harry mumbled, though he winced slightly when her hand brushed over a bruise on his shoulder.

Evira’s eyes narrowed, and she pulled him back to inspect him more thoroughly. “Define fine, ” she said, clearly unimpressed by his answer. Her hands moved deftly with orange light as she probed for injuries.

Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad exchanged wary glances, the awkward silence between them growing unbearable.

“Okay,” Robin finally said, stepping forward, his voice sharp and inquisitive. “Who are you? What are you doing here? And how do you know so much about Cadmus—and us? ”

Evira didn’t even look up.

“Hey!” Robin tried again, his voice rising. “I’m talking to you!”

Still nothing.

“Lady,” Kid Flash interjected, crossing his arms, “you can’t just crash in here with your…uh, magic ring powers or whatever, blow up a secret lab, and ignore us like we’re background noise!”

Evira stood still cradling Harry finally turned to glance at them. Her gaze was cool and dismissive, as if they were mildly interesting insects rather than potential allies or threats. 

She opened her mouth to respond—likely with something scathing—when her attention snapped back to Blockbuster’s still-unconscious form.

Her hand flicked sharply, the air seemed to ripple as a wave of agony crashed into the mutated figure. Blockbuster convulsed even in his unconscious state, his monstrous growls mixing with the faint echoes of screams.

“Mom!” Harry shouted, clutching at her arm. “Stop it!”

Her hand lowered slowly, though her eyes still burned with fury. “He deserved worse,” she muttered.

“Maybe,” Harry said softly, “but you’re scaring him.” He nodded toward Superboy, who stood a few feet away.

Evira let out a frustrated sigh , she glanced at Harry again, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Fine,” she said, her tone begrudging. “For now.”

Before anyone else could say a word, Evira turned and, without any explanation, handed Harry directly to Superboy.

Superboy froze, his arms awkwardly reaching out to hold the small boy. “Uh…what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t drop him,” Evira said simply, before turning away.

“What? Wait!” Superboy protested.

“Are we not going to talk about how she just gave the kid away? ” Kid Flash exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

Robin stepped forward again, glaring at Evira. “We need answers—now.”

But before he could press further, a sudden flash of green light streaked through the air. Evira’s head snapped up just in time to see a massive green hammer barreling toward her.

With inhuman reflexes, she raised her hand, and an orange shield shimmered to life, absorbing the impact. Sparks flew as the two energies collided, the ground beneath her feet cracking from the force.

“You’ve gone far enough, Orange Lantern,” a commanding voice rang out. Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern, hovered in the sky, his ring glowing brilliantly as he prepared another attack.

Evira’s eyes narrowed. “Typical Green Lanterns,” she muttered. “Always assuming they’re in charge.”

More figures descended from the sky: Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and the rest of the Justice League. They landed in a semi-circle around her, their presence imposing and unyielding.

“Stand down,” Superman ordered, his voice firm.

“Or what?” Evira replied coolly, raising an eyebrow.

Superman’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Hal unleashed another construct—a massive chain that lashed toward her.

Evira reacted instantly, summoning an orange serpent that slithered through the air, snapping its jaws around the chain and disintegrating it in a flash of light. The serpent coiled protectively around her before shifting into a pair of glowing wyverns, which darted toward the League.

The fight exploded into chaos.

Hal Jordan tried to overpower her, his constructs clashing with hers in a dazzling display of energy. But Evira’s creations were intricate and bizarre—giant spiders made of fire, serpentine vines that lashed out with venomous precision, and glowing wolves that seemed almost alive.

Wonder Woman charged forward, her sword gleaming, only to be intercepted by a wall of writhing Devil’s Snare. The enchanted plant twisted and snapped, holding her in place as Evira directed her attention to Batman, who had circled around to strike from behind.

“You’re predictable,” she said, smirking as a swarm of her rainbow-colored butterflies enveloped him. He disappeared from view for a moment, re-emerging with his cape slashed and his movements slowed.

Superman dove from the sky, his eyes glowing red as he unleashed a powerful blast of heat vision. Evira spun and raised a shimmering orange shield, deflecting the energy into the ground, Superman followed up with a direct punch, but Evira sidestepped, her movements unnaturally fast.

“Not bad,” she muttered, smirking, “but you’ll have to do better.”

From behind her, Shazam summoned a bolt of magical lightning, aiming to catch her off guard. Evira butterfly constructs swarming to absorb some of the energy, but the impact still sent her skidding across the ground.

“Magic,” she hissed, shaking off the impact. “How quaint.”

Red Tornado unleashed a vortex of wind, attempting to disorient her. Evira construct spinning with shimmering colors that broke apart Red Tornado’s attack. The winds turned into a swarm of glowing butterflies that danced around him, causing him to falter momentarily.

Flash darted in Evira countered by covering the ground in glowing vines, tripping him up, he stumbled but quickly recovered, zigzagging through her constructs to land a blow. She absorbed the hit with a construct of a shimmering dragon’s wing, grinning as she sent the dragon to chase him.

Aquaman attempted a coordinated attack, striking with his trident while Martian Manhunter phased through the chaos to land an intangible blow to her side. Evira hissed in frustration as Martian Manhunter solidified, his strength nearly knocking her off balance. She retaliated with a series of sharp-edged constructs, forcing him to phase out of harm's way.

From the shadows, Batman slipped in unnoticed, dodging her constructs and positioning himself for a strike. At the right moment, he lunged, grabbing her wrist and yanking the ring from her finger.

But Evira didn’t falter.

Her expression darkened, and she reached into her coat, pulling out a sleek black firearm etched with glowing runes. “You think I need a ring to win?” she asked, her voice cold.

The butterflies swarmed again, their colors shifting violently as they surrounded her enemies. The Justice League hesitated.

“You took the ring,” she said, leveling her gun at Batman. “Let’s see how far that gets you.”

The fight wasn’t over. 

Chapter Text

From their spot near the rubble of the collapsed Cadmus facility, Harry, Superboy, Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad watched the battle unfold.

“Is it just me, or is she actually holding her own?” Kid Flash muttered, his tone a mix of awe and disbelief.

“She’s not just holding her own,” Robin corrected, his eyes narrowing. “She’s winning. ”

Superboy, still holding Harry, frowned. “How? Against all of them? That’s Superman and Wonder Woman up there. And Batman.”

“She’s smart,” Aqualad observed. “She’s reading their movements, predicting their attacks.”

“And she’s terrifying, ” Kid Flash added, wincing as one of her constructs—a massive orange phoenix—smashed into Hal’s Green Lantern mech construct, sending it crashing to the ground.

Harry watched the fight with wide eyes, clutching tightly to Superboy’s shirt. “Mum’s not terrifying,” he said defensively. “She’s just...better than them.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kid Flash shot back. “Better at being scary.”

Robin shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. She’s not just using brute force—she’s adapting to each of their powers.”

Superboy glanced down at Harry. “Is she always like this?” he asked, unable to hide the mix of concern and admiration in his voice.

“Only when people are mean to me or my siblings,” Harry replied matter-of-factly, as if this kind of chaos was a regular occurrence.

“Define ‘mean,’” Robin said cautiously, his eyes flicking to where Evira had just taken out both Red Tornado and Flash with a combination of glowing chains and enchanted butterflies.

Harry shrugged. “Kidnapping me, trying to hurt me…stuff like that.”

“Right,” Robin muttered, his gaze returning to the battlefield. “Normal mom stuff.”

The team fell silent as Evira lost her ring to Batman but seamlessly transitioned into using her guns. Her glowing butterflies swarmed across the battlefield, disrupting attacks, without the ring, her constructs were gone, but she fought with no less ferocity.

Superboy shifted uneasily. “She’s still fighting them. Without the ring.”

“Yep,” Kid Flash said, nodding. “Definitely terrifying.”

Harry grinned, leaning closer to Superboy. “See? She’s amazing. You should totally let her adopt you.”

Robin blinked. “This, again?”

“She’d be a great mom,” Harry said earnestly, ignoring the incredulous looks from the team. “She’s super good at protecting people. She will give you all the love and attention a baby like you need.”

Superboy’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not a baby.”

“You don’t have a name,” Harry said firmly. “That’s baby stuff.”

Kid Flash snickered. “He’s not wrong.”

Aqualad raised an eyebrow. “You believe she would take in someone she just met?”

Harry nodded confidently.

Robin opened his mouth to respond but stopped short as Evira, without missing a beat, sent a blast of energy at Captain Marvel while simultaneously deflecting a strike from Wonder Woman. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Robin muttered, watching the chaos unfold, “but...she might actually pull this off.”

Superman stepped forward, his authoritative voice cutting through the air. “Stand down. You’re outnumbered, outmatched, and surrounded. This doesn’t have to go any further.”

Evira scoffed, leveling her gun at him while her butterflies flitted around. “Outnumbered? Maybe. Outmatched? Hardly. And surrounded?” She gestured to the Justice League with a sardonic smile. “That’s your mistake, not mine.”

“Enough!” Wonder Woman interjected, her sword gleaming in the light. “You’ve fought valiantly, but this ends now. Surrender.”

Evira rolled her eyes. “Sure. Right after you lot apologize for attacking me unprovoked.” She pointed her gun at Batman, who had retreated into the shadows after taking her ring. “And you. Stealing my ring again? You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to teach you a real lesson this time.”

Batman’s expression remained unreadable, It wasn’t clear he hasn’t forgotten their last encounter.

“You’re a threat to everyone here,” Hal snapped, his Green Lantern ring glowing brightly. “We can’t just let someone like you walk away.”

“Someone like me?” Evira’s tone was sharp, her movements fluid as she sidestepped a sneaky attempt by Flash to close the distance. “Funny how that works. You see an orange ring, and suddenly I’m the bad guy.”

“It’s not just the ring,” Superman said, his voice more measured. “Your actions—this destruction—prove you’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous to whom?” Evira shot back, her gun’s barrel glowing faintly. “To those who kidnap children? To those who threaten my family? Oh yes, I’m a real danger to people like that.”

Martian Manhunter stepped forward cautiously, his expression serene. “You’re fueled by rage and greed. That’s why you’re a danger.” His eyes glowed faintly as he attempted to probe her mind.

Evira turned sharply, her butterflies swirling protectively around her. “Get out of my head, alien,” she growled, her voice dropping an octave. A pulse of energy shot from her gun, forcing Martian Manhunter to step back. “I’ll warn you once: you won’t find anything there. My mind is mine. ”

Batman’s voice cut through the tension. “She’s protecting something—or someone.”

Evira stiffened, and her fury boiled over. For a split second, the light around her shimmered unnaturally, and she coughed up a small spatter of blood onto the ground. The sight made everyone hesitate, unsure if it was a sign of weakness or something far worse.

“What’s the matter?” Flash quipped nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “Feeling a little winded?”

Evira’s head snapped toward him, and the look she gave him could have frozen molten steel. “I’m feeling a little tired of you heroes. ”

A chorus of voices interrupted her.

“Mum!”

Evira expression softening instantly as several children ran toward her. Neville reached her first, throwing his arms around her waist and burying his face in her side. “Mum, stop! Please!”

Tom looking unusually concerned for someone usually so composed, grabbed her arm. “You’re going too far. We’re fine.”

Hermione flanked her side, tugging gently at her cloak. “We like it here,” Hermione said hesitantly. “It’s...nice.”

Neville nodded shyly. “We’ve been talking. Maybe we could stay? Just for a little while.”

Even Teddy that was floating, babbled happily, seemingly oblivious to the tension.

Evira sighed, rubbing her temples as though the idea of staying gave her a headache. “This is why I don’t like heroes,” she muttered to herself.

The League exchanged glances, their stances relaxing slightly. But the tension remained palpable, the unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air.

The battlefield still shimmered with tension as Evira straightened her posture. Instead of walking away, she flicked her fingers toward the small spatter of blood she had coughed up earlier. A brief, bright flame erupted from her hand, consuming the blood in an instant. 

She extended her hand, and the orange power ring that Batman had stealthily pocketed shot out from his utility belt, flying straight back to her. 

“I’ll take that back, thank you,” she said coolly, the ring snapping onto her finger with a faint hum. She didn’t summon the full uniform this time.

Then, with a graceful wave of her hand, a large round table and several chairs materialized in front of her, crafted from a smooth, polished wood that gleamed like it belonged in a palace. 

“If we’re going to do this,” Evira said, sitting down with a flourish, “we may as well make it civilized.” She crossed her legs, her expression calm.

The Justice League exchanged uncertain glances, but Superman, ever the diplomat, took a cautious step forward. “Do what, exactly?”

“Negotiate,” Evira replied smoothly. “Because I don’t want to deal with you lot chasing me across Earth.. So let’s talk now and get this over with.” She gestured to the chairs. “Sit, or don’t.”

As the League deliberated, Harry tugged on Superboy’s arm and led him toward his siblings. “Superboy,” Harry said brightly, “these are my siblings! Tom, Hermione, Neville, and Baby Teddy.”

Superboy blinked at the collection of kids, his stoic expression faltering as they all stared up at him. “Uh...hi.”

Hermione stepped forward, her sharp gaze scanning him. “You’re...tall. And quiet. Are you always this quiet?”

Neville, standing next to her, gave a shy wave. “Do you have powers like Superman?”

Tom folded his arms and gave Superboy a critical once-over. “You’re the clone, aren’t you?”

Superboy stiffened, glancing toward Harry, who shrugged. 

“Great,” Superboy muttered.

Teddy, babbled something unintelligible but reached out a tiny hand toward Superboy.

“You see?” Harry said, grinning. “Even Teddy likes you. So it’s settled. Mum has to adopt you.”

Superboy’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“You need a family. And Mum’s the best at that.” Harry said earnestly. 

Superman, overhearing the conversation, tensed visibly. “Clone?” he said sharply, his gaze snapping to Superboy.

Superboy nodded stiffly. “Yeah. I’m a clone of you.”

The revelation hit like a bomb. The Justice League collectively froze, their expressions a mix of shock, anger, and unease. Superman’s jaw tightened. “How—why—”

“Don’t look at me,” Evira interjected smoothly from her seat, her tone disinterested. “I didn’t make him. I just freed him.”

Harry glaring at Superman, stepped in front of Superboy protectively. “Don’t even think about yelling at him,” he said fiercely. “He didn’t ask to be made, and he’s not a bad person just because he’s your clone. Mum already said we’re keeping him, so you can go cry about it if you want.”

Superman looked utterly taken aback. “I wasn’t—”

“Good,” Harry interrupted, crossing his arms.

Tom smirked. “I like him. He’s blunt. You should keep him, Mum.”

Evira sighed dramatically. “Must we adopt every stray child we find ? What am I, an interdimensional orphanage?”

“Yes,” her children said in unison.

Superboy blinked at the interaction, unsure whether to feel flattered or horrified.

Amidst the chaos, Wonder Woman turned to Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad, her tone stern. “Why are you even here? This mission was unauthorized, and Cadmus is no place for children.”

Robin looked unfazed. “We were following a lead. Cadmus was conducting illegal experiments. Someone had to stop them.”

“And you didn’t think to contact us?” Aquaman asked, his disapproval clear.

“We wanted to prove ourselves,” Aqualad said calmly. “And we succeeded. We freed Superboy.”

Barry Allen, the Flash, looked between Kid Flash and the others with a mixture of exasperation and pride. “Wally, you couldn’t have called me? I would’ve backed you up.”

Kid Flash rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “We didn’t exactly have time for a phone call.”

“Children shouldn’t be put in danger,” Martian Manhunter said, his tone firm.

“And yet here we are,” Robin said, his voice sharp.

Before the conversation could escalate further, Evira spoke up. “If you’re all done lecturing each other, can we get back to the matter at hand? I have things to do, and this isn’t one of them.”

Superman’s gaze darkened. “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. You’ve caused immense destruction, and you’re carrying dangerous power.”

Evira tilted her head, her butterflies swarming lazily around her. “And you seem to think I care about your judgment.”

Batman narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s your endgame here?”

“Endgame?” Evira smiled faintly. “I just want you to leave me and my kids alone. But since you heroes can’t help yourselves, I’m offering to negotiate. Play nice, and I might not turn your lives into a living nightmare.”

Her words hung in the air, the promise of chaos unspoken but understood. The League exchanged uneasy glances.

The table was quiet for a long moment, the only sound being the soft rustle of Evira’s butterflies as they hovered about her. Her children, sitting close by her side, shifted in their seats as they glanced around at the Justice League.

Superboy sat with them, looking uncertain but oddly comforted by the presence of the group. Harry, in particular, kept his gaze on the League with the fierce protectiveness of someone who had already made his decision.

Evira leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, her expression unreadable. The orange ring on her finger glowed faintly in the dim light, almost as if it were alive, pulsing with a rhythm that only she could feel.

She regarded the League with an air of patient disinterest. “Let’s make this simple,” she said, her voice smooth.“I’m not interested in a fight. I’m not interested in your judgments. All I want is for you to leave me and my kids alone.”

Her words hung in the air, the weight of her demand settling over the room. The Justice League exchanged glances, and for a long while, no one spoke.

Batman, ever the pragmatist, with a sigh, he lowered himself into one of the chairs opposite Evira, his intense eyes never leaving her face. 

Slowly, one by one, the other members of the League followed suit, taking their places at the table. Superman’s gaze was still sharp, but he sat down stiffly, clearly not at ease. Wonder Woman, her posture regal, crossed her arms and stared down at Evira as if trying to gauge her intentions. Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, stood with his arms crossed, waiting for someone else to speak.

Chapter Text

The tension in the air was suffocating outside, the Justice League standing in a loose semi-circle, facing Evira and her children. 

The moon cast pale silver light over the scene, the air was cold, biting against exposed skin, but no one moved to leave.

Evira sat calmly at a wooden table, her magical purple arms tirelessly scribbling on a large parchment in front of her. 

Each movement was precise, calculated, as if she had all the time in the world. Her children sat on her side of the table, Harry closest to her, his hand firmly clutching Superboy’s arm.

“I prefer things to be civil,” Evira said, breaking the silence, her smooth, mocking tone carrying easily in the still night air. “You’ve interrupted my life enough already, so let’s keep this short. You leave me and my children alone, and I’ll give you what you want—information, guidance, insight.”

 Her gaze swept across the Justice League. “Take it or leave it.”

Superman’s expression hardened, his hands clasping in front of him. “Why should we trust you?”

Evira’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Trust is such a fragile thing, isn’t it? I don’t need you to trust me.If you’re serious about keeping your little world safe, you’ll realize you need someone like me. Someone who isn’t bound by your rules.”

“Or ethics,” Wonder Woman interjected sharply.

Evira’s smile didn’t falter. “And yet, I get results. Tell me, Princess, has your code ever helped you solve a problem before it became a crisis?”

“We’ve heard enough speeches,” Batman said, his voice low. “You’re asking for a lot. What makes you think we’d even consider this?”

Evira didn’t respond immediately. “Harry?” Her voice softened, and he looked up at her. “What do we say to people who think they have the upper hand?”

Harry straightened “We don’t negotiate with fools.”

Robin’s head jerked up at that, his eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Exactly,” Evira said, leaning back in her chair and gesturing broadly. “I’ve already offered you something of value, but you’re still wasting time posturing. Let’s not pretend you have control of this situation.”

The League exchanged uneasy glances, but it was Aquaman who broke the silence. “What exactly do you think you’re offering that we don’t already have? We have resources, connections—”

“Speedy is a clone,” Evira interrupted coldly.

The words hit like a bomb. The Young Justice team froze, their eyes wide as they stared at her.

“What?!” Kid Flash blurted, his voice cracking.

Robin’s expression darkened. Aqualad took a sharp breath, his composure faltering as he glanced at his teammates. Even Superboy shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders tensing as if the word “clone” struck too close to home.

“That’s a lie,” Robin said, though his voice wavered.

“Is it?” Evira’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You already have the proof, don’t you? You hacked Cadmus before I broke through the ceiling.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed. “That’s... I—”

“You found the files,” Evira pressed. “Go ahead. Check them. I’ll wait.”

Robin hesitated, his hands twitching toward his gauntlet. Batman placed a hand on his shoulder, silently urging him to pause, but the damage was done. The seed of doubt had been planted.

Kid Flash broke the silence. “Wait, so... we’ve been working with a clone this whole time? How... how is that even possible?”

“It’s Cadmus,” Evira replied simply. “They specialize in possible.”

The young heroes exchanged uneasy glances.

“I’m better at this than you are,” Evira said simply. She waved her hand, and a folder materialized on the table.

“Here’s the proof you’ll need. Cross-reference it with what your little Robin found, and you’ll see I’m right. The Speedy you’ve been working with is a clone. The original? He’s alive, but let’s just say he’s not in great shape. Missing an arm. Barely functioning. A shadow of the hero you once knew.”

The weight of her words slammed into the group. Kid Flash stepped back, his face pale. “No. That can’t—he’s Speedy ! He—he’s my best friend!”

Robin’s voice was low, trembling with anger. “You don’t get to play games with this.”

“I’m not playing games,” Evira said, her tone sharp now. “I’m telling you what you refuse to see. Your systems failed him. They let Cadmus replace him with a copy—a shadow—and none of you noticed.”

Batman’s voice cut through the chaos. “If you knew all this, why didn’t you come to us before? Why disappear? Why trick me?”

Evira’s gaze snapped to him, “Are you falling for me, Batman?” Her voice carried a mocking lilt. “Don’t. I’ll break your heart.”

The Young Justice team stared at Batman, their expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.

“You knew her?” Kid Flash asked incredulously. “How does Batman even know her?”

Evira didn’t wait for an answer. “I was in Gotham looking for Harry,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I followed the trail, and when I realized the people involved had ties to your precious Justice League, I decided to handle it myself. You got in my way.”

Batman’s jaw tightened. “And then you vanished.”

“Yes,” Evira said bluntly. “Because I don’t owe you an explanation. But here we are now, and you can decide whether to keep chasing ghosts or accept the truth in front of you.”

She gestured at the parchment, now completed with shimmering text outlining her terms. “Sign it, and we have a deal. Or don’t.”

The clearing was silent except for the rustle of leaves in the wind. 

Superman finally spoke, his voice heavy. “And if we don’t sign?”

Evira’s smile was razor-sharp. “Then you’ll never find out what else I know. 

Evira magical purple arms moved fluidly recording the terms of the heated negotiation. Her children sat quietly at her side.

“You’re asking for too much,” Superman said, his voice sharp as he stood with arms crossed. “Superboy doesn’t belong to you.”

Evira didn’t look up from the parchment, her tone calm but cutting. “Belong? He’s not a tool, Superman. He’s a person. And I don’t see him running to your side.”

Superboy’s fists clenched at his sides, and he looked down, avoiding Superman’s gaze. “I’m staying,” he muttered

“That’s not your decision to make!” Kid Flash blurted out, leading forward. “You just got out of that pod, dude! You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“Enough,” Evira interjected, her tone sharp enough to silence him. She looked at Kid Flash, her eyes like steel. “You don’t get to decide for him. Neither do your mentors. Superboy’s finally free, and you all want to shove him right back into another cage.”

“It’s not a cage,” Batman said evenly, his eyes were locked on Evira. “We offer structure, guidance—things he needs. You’ll isolating him. Cutting him off.”

Evira’s lips curved. “Funny. That’s what I thought about you when we met in Gotham. Always so certain you know what’s best.” Her words were pointed.

The League exchanged looks, tension thick in the air. Wonder Woman was the one to break the silence. “Why not work with us, Evira? If you care about Superboy why not join us?”

Evira’s laughter was sharp and humorless. “Join you? No thanks. Heroism is exhausting. I’ve got better things to do than chase after villains for free while you clean up political messes that never go away.”

“That’s selfish,” Wonder Woman retorted, her voice firm.

“Yes” Evira admitted with a shrug. “But at least I’m honest about it. I protect what’s mine. And right now, that includes Superboy.”

The clearing seemed to grow colder as Evira’s smile widened. Around her, delicate, glowing butterflies began to flutter into existence, adding an eerie beauty to the tense standoff.

Superman’s jaw tightened as he glanced at the parchment. “You’ve made your terms clear,” his tone carefully controlled. “But this isn’t just about what you want. We have responsibilities—to everyone, not just ourselves.”

Evira tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Responsibilities?” she echoed, her tone dripping with mockery. “Is that what you tell yourself when you leave your own people behind? Like Speedy?”

Wonder Woman’s eyes narrowed, the accusation hitting harder than she cared to admit. “If you have proof of what you’re saying, now’s the time to show it.”

Evira’s gaze flicked to Robin, her amusement barely concealed. “I already did. Robin has the files. He’s just too proud—or too scared—to admit I’m right.”

Robin’s hands twitched at his sides, he hadn’t finished decrypting all of it, but there had been mentions of cloning experiments.

“Fine,” Evira said suddenly, snapping her fingers. “I’ll make this simple.”

The butterflies swirled upward in a graceful arc before coalescing into a shimmering orb above her. For a moment, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Then, with a sound like the soft rustle of wings, the orb split apart, and a figure fell from its center.

The Justice League reacted instantly, Superman catching the falling body before it hit the ground. The figure was unconscious but unmistakable: Speedy—or rather, the real Speedy. His face was pale, and his arm was missing just below the shoulder. Bandages covered the stump, but they were hastily applied and stained with blood.

“By the gods,” Wonder Woman whispered, her eyes wide.

“There you go,” Evira said smoothly, crossing her arms. “Proof. The original Speedy. And before you ask—yes, I found him. And yes, I saved him. You’re welcome.”

Kid Flash staggered back, his face pale. “That’s... that’s not possible. He... he can’t be real. Speedy’s been with us this whole time!”

Evira crossed her arms, her expression smug but cool. “Told you my information was real. Do I have your attention now?”

The Justice League stood frozen, Wonder Woman knelt beside Speedy, her hands hovering as she assessed his injuries. “This... this isn’t possible,” she murmured. “How could we not know?”

“Because you were too busy with your rules and protocols,” Evira replied sharply, “You were blind. And while you were fumbling in the dark, I was cleaning up.”

Superman frowned, his gaze shifting from Speedy to Evira.“And what happens if we refuse?”

Evira tilted her head, her expression sharp. “Then you can go back to stumbling blindly through the chaos. But don’t come crying to me when Cadmus comes knocking with more surprises. You won’t get a second chance.”

Batman’s voice was low, calculated. “What’s stopping you from turning against us once we sign?”

Evira let out a short laugh, her butterflies fluttering in amusement. “Oh, Batman. Always thinking five steps ahead, you don’t scare me. This deal isn’t about me trusting you. It’s about you needing me.”

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing. “The parchment is magically binding. You get the information I’ve gathered, I get the protection I need for my children, and we stay out of each other’s way. Break the deal, and you’ll find out why I don’t need to play by your rules.”

The League exchanged uneasy glances. Wonder Woman stood, her expression conflicted as she looked at Superman and Batman. “Her terms are clear, and she’s proven she’s telling the truth. We can’t ignore this.”

Superman sighed heavily. “This isn’t how we do things. But... if we walk away now, we lose any chance to stop whatever’s coming.”

Batman’s gaze was fixed on Evira, his mind racing. Finally, he spoke. “We’ll need to review the parchment. Thoroughly.”

“You’ve got a few hours,” Evira said brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve. “Make it quick.”

Evira turned her attention back to her children. Harry was seated beside her, his posture tense but composed. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

Harry looked up at her, his expression wary. “Fine. Just... tired.”

Evira handed him vial. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Superboy watching her closely. Evira glanced at him, her gaze softening. “You too. You’ve been through enough today.”

Superboy hesitated his shoulders relaxing slightly as he drank.

The League finished their deliberation. Batman stepped forward, the parchment in his hands. “We’ve read it. The terms are... acceptable.”

“Glad to hear it,” Evira said, her voice dripping with mockery. “So, what’s it going to be?”

Superman exchanged a glance with Wonder Woman, then nodded. Batman placed the parchment on a flat surface, and one by one, the League members signed. The parchment shimmered as each name was added, sealing the agreement with an audible hum of magic.

When they were done, Evira stepped forward and inspected the parchment, then smiled. “Smart choice.”

She rolled the parchment up with a flick of her wrist, and it vanished into thin air. “You’ll have my information before sunrise. Until then, try not to lose any more of your team, hmm?”

Without waiting for a response, Evira turned and began walking away, her children and Superboy following close behind. The glowing butterflies swirled around her, growing brighter as she disappeared into the shadows.

Superman watched her go, his expression grim. “Did we just make a deal with the devil?”

Batman’s gaze remained fixed on the spot where Evira had vanished. “No. But we made a deal with someone who doesn’t play by the rules. We’ll need to be ready for whatever comes next.”

The clearing fell silent, the weight of their decision settling over them as the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon.

Chapter Text

Watchtower atmosphere was heavy, a mix of exhaustion and disbelief hanging in the air. In the conference room, the Justice League sat around the large circular table, their faces grim, but their minds racing.

Superman leaned forward,“We need to talk about what just happened. Who is she? What do we know about this... Evira?”

Batman’s voice cut through the room “Not much. I worked with her briefly two weeks ago in Gotham. She was hunting someone. Now I know it was her son, Harry.”

“Two weeks,” Wonder Woman said thoughtfully “And before that?”

Batman shook his head. “There’s no record of her presence in this dimension before two months ago. That matches the energy signature I’ve been tracking. It’s unlike anything we’ve seen before—pure chaotic magic interwoven with order. She appeared suddenly and she’s been highly active ever since.”

Martian Manhunter furrowed his brow. “If her arrival coincides with this energy signature, it explains why we failed to detect her earlier. She may have traveled between dimensions or planes of existence. Her magic is... alien to anything Earth has encountered.”

“And dangerous,” Superman added “She’s powerful, unpredictable, and ruthless. She’s already destabilized the sidekicks by exposing the truth about Speedy. That’s not something we can ignore.”

Wonder Woman frowned. “What of her children? She clearly has a maternal instinct, but is it genuine, or a tool to manipulate us? And what about Superboy?”

“Christopher Hellsubus,” Batman corrected, his tone neutral. “That’s the name she’s given him. And from what I’ve observed, her care for him and her kids is real. When we were negotiating, she checked on them repeatedly. She’s fiercely protective of them. That’s not manipulation it’s instinct.”

Green Lantern leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Okay, so she’s a mom. A mom with an agenda. What’s her endgame?”

“Survival,” Batman said. “And control. She doesn’t trust us, and she doesn’t want to work with us unless it benefits her directly. That’s why she forced the contract. But she isn’t reckless. Every move she makes is calculated.”

“Calculated, maybe,” Flash interjected, “but she’s also chaotic. She just dropped Speedy— the real Speedy —on us like it was nothing. The young team is reeling from this, and so are we.”

Martian Manhunter nodded solemnly. “The revelation has shaken their foundation. I’ve sensed their confusion, anger, and doubt. They trusted Speedy, believed in him as a teammate, and now that trust has been broken.”

“Not to mention the clone,” Aquaman said, his voice heavy. “What do we do with him? He’s as much a victim in this as the original. He didn’t ask to be created or deceived.”

Superman sighed. “We’ll need to provide support for both of them. The clone deserves the chance to choose his own path, and the original Speedy needs medical attention and rehabilitation. But integrating them back into the team? That’s going to take time—if it’s even possible.”

Wonder Woman’s expression softened. “The Young Justice team has potential, but they’re still young. This ordeal could strengthen them—or break them.”

Martian Manhunter spoke again, his tone calm but firm. “That’s why I believe my niece, M’gann, should join them. Her telepathic abilities and empathy could help them rebuild their trust and unity. She’s eager to contribute and ready for this responsibility.”

Batman nodded slightly. “She’s a good candidate. Her abilities complement the team’s existing skill set, and her perspective could be invaluable.”

Green Lantern raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of candidates... What about Superboy? Or should I say, Christopher?”

“He’s chosen to stay with Evira,” Batman said. “We can’t force him to join the team—or the League. But we should keep an eye on him. He’s still new to this world, and Evira’s influence could shape him in ways we might not like.”

Superman’s jaw tightened. “And then there’s the matter of Evira herself. She’s powerful, but she doesn’t operate by our rules. If she decides to turn against us—”

“She won’t,” Batman interrupted. “Not unless we give her a reason to. She’s pragmatic, not malicious. But that doesn’t mean we should trust her completely.”

Flash leaned forward, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “And what about this Orange Lantern stuff? She has a ring but what do we actually know?”

All eyes turned to Batman.

“Not much,” he admitted. “The Orange Lantern is tied to the emotional spectrum specifically, avarice. Its bearer is driven by greed and a desire to possess. Historically, the Orange Light is associated with a single wielder, Larfleeze, who guards it jealously. If Evira has encountered it could explain her reluctance to share details. 

“Wonderful,” Green Lantern muttered. “The last thing we need is more Lantern drama.”

“This isn’t just Lantern drama,” Batman said, his tone sharp. “If the Orange Light is in play, it could destabilize the entire emotional spectrum. We need more information.”

Superman nodded. “Then that’s our next priority. We figure out what she knows about the Orange Lantern.”

Martian Manhunter’s voice was quiet but firm. “And we prepare the next generation. The Young Justice team must be ready for what’s to come. They will need guidance, support, and time to heal. This revelation about Speedy has tested them, but it may also forge them into something stronger.”

The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of their decisions sank in.

Finally, Wonder Woman spoke. “We move forward cautiously. Evira may be an ally for now, but we must remain vigilant. And we must ensure that the Young Justice team is ready to face whatever lies ahead.”

Batman leaned back slightly, his gaze distant. “Evira’s only been here for two months, but she’s already left a mark on this world. The question is whether that mark will be for good—or for chaos.”

The League exchanged solemn glances, the enormity of their task clear. 

The Watchtower's surveillance room was quiet, save for the occasional hum of machinery and the faint crackle of radio signals. Green Lantern Hal leaned back in his chair, absently sipping a cup of coffee while monitoringt. Suddenly, the radar screen flickered with an anomaly. A cluster of glowing rainbow dots appeared, hovering motionlessly in the vacuum of space just outside the Watchtower.

Hal squinted at the screen. “What the—? Are those... butterflies?”

The door hissed open as Flash jogged in, his usual easygoing demeanor faltering as he saw Hal staring intently at the display. “What’s up?”

“Check this out.” Hal gestured to the screen. “Evira’s butterflies. Outside. In space . And just hanging there.”

Flash leaned over, his eyes widening. “That’s creepy. How are they even alive out there?”

Hal activated the intercom. “Attention, all available League members. We have an anomaly at Watchtower perimeter. Possible contact from Evira. Report to the command center.”

Within minutes, Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and Aquaman joined them, all eyes fixed on the surveillance feed.

“Why now?” Superman asked, his tone suspicious. “She gave us the information we needed a week ago. What’s this supposed to mean?”

“More importantly,” Wonder Woman added, her brow furrowed, “how are those butterflies surviving in space? Even magical constructs have limits.”

“They’re not constructs,” Batman said flatly, his analytical gaze fixed on the screen. “They’re alive. I saw them in action during our first encounter. Whatever power sustains them is intrinsic, not environmental.”

“Which means they’re here with a purpose,” Martian Manhunter said calmly.

Superman sighed. “All right. Let them in.”

Hal extended his ring toward the anomaly, generating a translucent green portal. The swarm of butterflies immediately responded, entering the Watchtower in an organized, mesmerizing formation.

As the butterflies reached the central meeting room, they scattered briefly before converging at the circular table. They began to spiral upward, their rainbow glow intensifying as they twisted into a column of light. Slowly, the light coalesced into the shape of a large mirror-like hologram.

Evira appeared within the glowing surface, seated with an air of calm indifference. Her right-side limbs, save for her eye, were conspicuously absent. She appeared fragile but composed, her expression as sharp and cutting as ever.

The League members exchanged surprised glances.

“Evira,” Wonder Woman began, her voice steady but concerned. “What happened to you?”

Evira didn’t acknowledge the question “You wanted information. I’m here to provide it.”

“Hold on,” Superman pressed, his voice firm. “You’re clearly injured. If this is some kind of—”

Evira cut him off, her tone cold and dismissive. “Focus, Superman. My physical state is irrelevant. What matters is what I’ve learned.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed his analytical mind working overtime but he said nothing, opting to observe.

Evira’s image leaned back slightly, her fingers drumming against the surface of an unseen table. “The Light,” she began, her voice smooth and deliberate, “is a council of self-proclaimed enlightened beings. Their goal is to guide humanity to its ‘next evolutionary step’ and elevate it to a central position in the cosmos. This is not their first incarnation. The first iteration was formed in the second millennium BCE by Vandal Savage and Ishtar.”

“Vandal Savage,” Aquaman muttered, his voice laced with disdain. “That explains a lot.”

Evira continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “The current council is a more refined operation, with members strategically placed in key positions of power across Earth. They control resources, information, and events on a global scale. They are patient, deliberate, and highly organized. You’ve likely encountered their influence without even realizing it.”

Martian Manhunter’s expression darkened. “We’ve long suspected the existence of such an organization, but we lacked concrete proof.”

“Now you have it,” Evira said bluntly. “You’ve seen their hand in Cadmus, LexCorp, and numerous other operations. They are behind the cloning projects, the manipulation of metahumans, and the destabilization of global alliances.”

As she spoke, faint crashing sounds and distant laughter echoed faintly from somewhere beyond the hologram. Evira didn’t react, though her children were clearly up to some kind of chaos in the background. 

The League exchanged worried glances, their unease growing.

Superman’s jaw tightened. “And you’re just telling us this now? Why wait until after we signed your contract?”

“Because I needed to see if you were worth the effort,” Evira said, her voice icy. “Trust is fragile, remember? And you don’t exactly inspire it.”

Flash leaned toward Batman, whispering, “Does she always talk like she’s holding all the cards?”

“Yes,” Batman replied flatly.

Evira’s image gestured dismissively, and a faint orange glow enveloped the room. From the light, small glowing butterflies emerged, fluttering toward each League member present. Each butterfly dropped a thick booklet onto the table in front of its recipient.

“What’s this?” Hal asked, flipping open his booklet.

“Trade agreements,” Evira said. “Services I’m willing to offer you in exchange for things I want. For example, Hawkwoman and Hawkman will find methods to disguise their wings for easier integration into Earth society. Superman will find information on Kryptonian history and culture—as well as child custody papers for your clone.”

Superman’s eyes widened slightly as he flipped through his booklet.

Evira continued, ignoring their reactions. “Wonder Woman, your booklet contains insight into Themysciran enchantments you’ve long since forgotten. Batman, yours includes... well, I won’t spoil the surprise. Let’s just say you’ll find it useful.”

Flash, holding his own booklet, gave a low whistle. “She’s really not subtle, is she?”

“No,” Batman muttered, his gaze fixed on his own booklet.

Evira image leaning forward slightly. 

“These offers aren’t free. Everything comes with a cost. But if you’re willing to negotiate, you might find my terms... reasonable.”

Her image flickered briefly, the glow dimming. “You have your information, and now you have options. Use them wisely—or don’t.”

With that, the butterflies dissolved into light, and Evira’s image vanished, leaving the League to sit in stunned silence, the booklets glowing faintly before them.

“Thoughts?” Superman asked after a long pause. “She’s giving us solutions. But at what cost? None of this is altruistic.”

“No, it’s not,” Wonder Woman agreed, her tone sharp. “Everything she does comes with strings attached. She may not be aligned with The Light, but she operates in their shadow—manipulating, withholding information until it suits her.”

“Still,” Aquaman interjected, lifting his booklet and glancing through it, “these aren’t empty offers. If she can truly provide what she’s written here... it’s hard to ignore.”

Martian Manhunter folded his hands, his expression pensive. “Evira operates on her own terms, but she has provided actionable intelligence. We now know the full scope of The Light’s reach—something we’ve struggled to uncover for years.”

Flash raised an eyebrow as he flipped through his booklet. “Yeah, but at what point do we stop calling it intel and start calling it extortion? She’s dangling this stuff in front of us to get what she wants.”

“And what does she want?” Batman asked, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “The real question isn’t whether she’s offering solutions. It’s why. What does she gain from this?”

“Leverage,” Wonder Woman said without hesitation. “Every transaction strengthens her position. She’s calculating, ensuring that we need her more than she needs us.”

Green Lantern tapped his booklet, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, but let’s not forget: she knows things. Things about us, about our enemies. She’s already shown she’s willing to use that knowledge to twist the knife if it suits her. Are we prepared to leave these offers on the table and risk her turning against us?”

The room fell silent again, each hero grappling with the dilemma.

“What about her condition?” Superman finally asked, glancing at Batman. “She’s clearly injured—missing most of her prosthetics. What does that tell us?”

“It tells us she’s vulnerable,” Batman said, his tone flat. “But she’s also skilled at deflection. She ignored every question about her state, choosing instead to stay in control of the conversation. Whatever happened to her, she doesn’t want us to see it as a weakness.”

“She also doesn’t want us to care,” Martian Manhunter added. “Her demeanor was deliberate—cold, dismissive. She’s distancing herself from us emotionally, ensuring we see her as a tool rather than an ally.”

Flash snorted. “Well, mission accomplished. She’s about as friendly as a bag of snakes.”

“But effective,” Aquaman said, his gaze steady. “She doesn’t waste time with pleasantries or moral posturing. That’s something we could learn from.”

Superman shook his head. “No. That’s a dangerous road. If we justify cutting corners or abandoning our principles just because it’s easier, we’re no better than The Light.”

Wonder Woman placed her hands on the table, her expression resolute. “Evira’s methods may be effective, but they’re not something we should emulate. However, ignoring the resources she’s offering would be shortsighted. We need to evaluate these booklets carefully—determine what’s worth pursuing and what compromises we’re willing to make.”

“And what about The Light?” Green Lantern asked. “She just dropped the bombshell of the century, and we still don’t know the full extent of their plans.”

“We start there,” Batman said, his tone decisive. “Evira’s information gives us a starting point, but we’ll need to verify everything she’s told us. If she’s right, The Light’s reach extends further than we imagined. We’ll need to prepare for their next move—and hers.”

Martian Manhunter nodded. “Agreed. And we must also consider the Young Justice team. The revelation about Speedy has shaken their foundation. They’ll need guidance and stability to recover from this.”

Superman’s gaze softened slightly. “Christopher—Superboy—has already aligned himself with Evira. That complicates things. If we involve the Young Justice team in our efforts against The Light, we risk exposing them to further manipulation.”

“Then we use this moment to strengthen them,” Wonder Woman said. “We give them purpose and direction. If they’re going to face these challenges, they need to be ready.”

The heroes exchanged nods of agreement.

“And the booklets?” Flash asked, holding his up. “What do we do with these? Ignore them, use them, burn them?”

“Analyze them,” Batman said. “Determine the validity of her offers and the risks involved. We approach each one cautiously, and only after careful consideration.”

Superman leaned forward, his expression firm. “We don’t let her dictate the terms. If we decide to engage with her offers, it’s on our terms, not hers.”

“And if she doesn’t agree?” Aquaman asked.

“She gave us these booklets for a reason,” Batman replied. “She wants something from us. That gives us leverage. We just have to figure out how to use it.”

The room fell quiet again as each member of the League considered the weight of their decisions. Evira had forced their hand in a way no one else had before—offering them solutions at a price they weren’t sure they could afford.

For now, all they could do was prepare.

Chapter Text

The past week had been a whirlwind of activity for Evira and her children, filled with the intricacies of building their new lives. Using a combination of magic, technological finesse, and subtle manipulation, she had meticulously inserted herself and her children into the system, choosing the United Kingdom as their official point of origin. Birth certificates, medical records, and even the minutiae of vaccination histories were fabricated and flawlessly integrated. No government official would ever think to question their existence.

Evira’s children had mixed reactions to the idea of attending school. Tom and Hermione, ever the intellectuals with their own unique ambitions, adamantly refused to enroll. “We can learn more here,” Hermione had said, her tone firm as she gestured toward the growing library Evira was amassing in their new home. Tom had simply grunted in agreement, his focus already on some obscure magical text.

The others, however, had been thrilled at the prospect of going to school. It wasn’t the academics they craved but the experience, making friends, learning about the world outside their unique family bubble. Evira had relented, carefully selecting a reputable institution that wouldn’t pry too deeply into their unusual circumstances. Teddy, of course, was still too young, content to cling to her or toddle after his siblings as they prepared for their new adventure.

The  search for a proper home had been equally exhaustive. Abandoned properties held a certain appeal; they were quiet, private, and often ignored by the world. Eventually, she stumbled upon a dilapidated Victorian mansion in Gotham, its once-grand halls steeped in a haunting, melancholic beauty.

But Gotham was no place for her family. She had no desire to constantly fend off the city's endless chaos or its roster of vigilantes and villains. Instead, she had cast a powerful rune, detaching the mansion from its foundations and relocating it to a secluded forest, far from prying eyes.

The mansion’s new location was perfect; a sprawling estate surrounded by dense, ancient trees that whispered secrets to the wind. With magic, she restored the home to its former glory, polishing its tarnished woodwork, mending shattered glass, and breathing life back into its gardens. The children had been eager participants, their laughter echoing through the halls as they picked their rooms and helped arrange the space to suit their needs.

Superboy had been a quiet presence during the week, observing his new siblings with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Evira had seen the uncertainty in his eyes, the struggle to find his place in this patchwork family. Naming him had been an important step.

“Christopher Hellsubus,” she had said one evening, the name rolling off her tongue with a certain finality. “It suits you. Strong, noble, and rooted in the family you’re now a part of.”

He had been silent at first, his expression unreadable.

But then, a small smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded. “I like it,” he’d said quietly. “Christopher.”

His siblings had taken the name and run with it, teasing him affectionately and making him feel included in their mischief. Teddy had been the most determined, toddling after Christopher and calling him “Topher” in his baby voice, much to everyone’s amusement.

Evira’s children had gone out of their way to make Christopher feel like part of the family. Hermione had taken to quizzing him on subjects she deemed essential, from literature to magical theory, while Harry and Neville roped him into their duels and games. Even Tom, initially wary, had warmed to him, offering quiet advice on how to navigate the chaos of their household.

Christopher Hellsubus was unsure of his place in this family of magic and chaos. 

As he began to settle in, a troubling reality emerged: he was not in full control of his strength. It had started with minor accidents :door handles crushed in his grip, furniture splintered under the pressure of his hands but it all came to a head one afternoon when he accidentally hurt Harry.

They had been outside, running drills in a makeshift field Evira had conjured near their mansion. Harry, with his boundless energy, had goaded Christopher into a playful spar. 

It was supposed to be harmless, but Christopher misjudged his strength. He swung too hard, and Harry went flying, landing in a crumpled heap several feet away.

Harry groaned, clutching his side as Hermione and Neville rushed to his aid. “I’m fine,” Harry managed, though his voice was strained. 

His friends hovered, concerned but not panicked.

Christopher, on the other hand, was horrified. “I-I didn’t mean to!” he stammered, backing away. His hands trembled as he stared at Harry, guilt twisting in his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Harry forced a small smile despite the pain. “It’s okay, Chris. I’m tougher than I look.”

But Christopher wasn’t listening. He was already spiraling, the fear of what he could do consuming him. He turned on his heel and bolted toward the forest, igroning the shouts towards him.

Evira found him not far from the house, pacing and muttering to himself. His fists clenched and unclenched, the ground beneath him cracking slightly as his strength.

“Christopher,” she called softly, her tone steady but firm.

He froze, his back to her. “I can’t stay,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m dangerous. What if I hurt someone else? What if…”

“You’re not leaving,” Evira interrupted, stepping closer. “You’re scared, and that’s normal. But running isn’t the answer.”

He turned to face her, tears of frustration in his eyes. “I’m not like them. I can’t even fly like Superman. I’m supposed to be like him, but I’m not! I can’t do this.”

Evira’s gaze softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Christopher, you’re not Superman, and that’s okay. You’re you. And you don’t have to figure it all out on your own. That’s why I’m here. That’s why we’re all here.”

When he didn’t respond, she conjured a small basket of fruit, each piece glowing faintly with a golden sheen. She handed him one a ripe peach. “Hold this.”

Confused, he took it, his massive hands dwarfing the fragile fruit.

“This peach represents the people you care about,” Evira explained, her voice calm and deliberate. “Your family. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Tom, Teddy. Even me. Squeeze it, just a little.”

He hesitated, then applied the tiniest bit of pressure. The peach held, unbroken.

“Now imagine that’s Harry,” Evira said gently. “If you lose control, if you let anger or fear take over, what happens to him?”

Christopher’s grip tightened reflexively, and the peach split in half, its juice dripping onto his fingers. He looked down at the ruined fruit, realization dawning in his eyes.

“Exactly,” Evira said. “You’re strong, Christopher. But strength without control is dangerous. It’s not about suppressing your power, it’s about learning to master it.”

She gestured to the remaining fruit in the basket. “Pick another. Let’s try again.”

As Evira and Christopher worked through the exercise, the other children watched from a distance.

“He didn’t mean to hurt me,” Harry said, wincing slightly as Hermione fussed over him.

“We know,” Hermione replied, though her brow was furrowed with concern. “But he’s struggling. And that’s not something we can just fix for him.”

Tom, ever protective of his mother, crossed his arms. “She’ll help him. Mum always knows what to do.”

Neville nodded, though his expression was thoughtful. “Still, we should be careful. He’s... well, he’s different. But he’s one of us now.”

Teddy, oblivious to the tension, toddled over with a bright grin and climbed into Harry’s lap, babbling happily.

By the end of the session, Christopher had managed to hold a peach without damaging it, his confidence beginning to rebuild. Evira placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling. “See? Progress.”

Christopher looked at her, then at the basket of fruit. “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“You’re learning,” Evira said simply. “That’s what matters.”

As they walked back to the house, the other children greeted him with smiles and reassurances. They didn’t shy away from him, even Harry, who clapped him on the back and said, “Next time, maybe go a little easier on me, yeah?”

For the first time, Christopher felt like he truly belonged. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t have to be. 

He had a family now.

Evira sat in the quiet of her study, her prosthetic leg resting heavily against the polished floor. The pain radiating from her magical core was sharper today, a reminder that even she had limits. 

The effort of maintaining her magic, creating a stable home for her children, and keeping her family’s defenses in place was taking its toll.

She reached out to the enchanted trunk that had followed her through countless worlds, her fingers brushing over its worn surface. A flick of her hand opened the lid, and with a soft pop , a house elf emerged.

The creature was small but stately, her eyes bright and piercing under a crown of soft gray curls. She wore a dress of deep blue fabric that shimmered like the night sky, her hands clasped primly in front of her.

“Mistress Evira,” the elf began, her voice warm but firm. “You are overworking yourself again.”

Evira sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Laira, I’m fine. Just... a little tired.”

Laira’s gaze narrowed. “A little tired? Your magic burns too brightly, Mistress, and it is hurting you. You’ve pushed yourself too far since we arrived here. I warned you…rest is not a luxury for you. It is a necessity.”

Evira waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll rest later. There’s too much to do. The house still needs more wards, and Christopher needs training, and”

“Mistress!” Laira’s voice cut through her words like a knife. “Enough. Take off those infernal contraptions now .”

Evira arched a brow at the command, but before she could protest, Laira was at her side, her small hands reaching for the straps of the prosthetics.

“Laira…”

“No arguments,” the elf snapped, her tone brooking no disagreement. “You’re in pain, and I won’t stand by and let you hurt yourself further. Your charione cannot heal properly if you keep straining it.”

Evira huffed but relented, her fingers moving to unfasten the straps. As the prosthetics came off, she exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension in her body easing slightly. Laira carefully set the arm and leg aside, her expression softening as she looked up at her mistress.

“You must give yourself time, Mistress,” Laira said, her voice gentler now. “Your children are strong. They can manage for a few hours without you pushing yourself to the brink.”

Evira smiled faintly, brushing a hand over Laira’s hair. “You’re as stubborn as ever.”

The house elf’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Only because I care, Mistress.”

As Evira leaned back, allowing herself a moment to rest, she summoned her butterflies. The magical creatures materialized in a shimmering cloud, their purple wings glowing faintly.

“Go,” she murmured, her voice low but firm. “Deliver the message.”

The butterflies flitted out of the room, disappearing into the ether as they made their way to the Watchtower.

Laira watched them go, her expression contemplative. “You shouldn’t be dealing with those people, Mistress. They take and take, and they will never understand you.”

“They don’t have to understand me,” Evira replied. “They just need to listen.”

Laira frowned but said nothing more, her hands moving deftly to prepare a soothing balm for her mistress’s aching joints.

As Laira worked, Evira allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability. Her chronic pain throbbed faintly, a dull ache that resonated throughout her entire body. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes as she let Laira’s magic ease her pain.

The thought of the Justice League seeing her in this state tugged at her pride, but she dismissed it. She had no time for vanity. What mattered was the message and ensuring that her children were safe.

“Laira,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “Thank you.”

The house elf looked up, her eyes warm with affection. “Rest, Mistress. I’ll watch over you.”

And for the first time in what felt like weeks, Evira allowed herself sleep, trusting in Laira’s care and the loyalty.

As Evira watched her children interact, she felt a flicker of something she rarely allowed herself to feel: hope. This wasn’t exactly going as planned, but it was a life they were building together, piece by piece.

And it was theirs.

Chapter Text

Mount Justice was tense as the young heroes gathered around the central table. Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad sat quietly, each processing the events of the past weeks in their own way. 

The revelation about the clone Speedy still lingered in the air, heavy and unsettling.

Kid Flash in disbelief, was the first to speak. “I can’t believe it. We’ve been working with a clone this whole time? And we never noticed?” His voice was tinged with frustration.

Robin’s expression was unreadable but his jaw was set tightly. He had been the one to dig through the Cadmus files, and it felt like a personal betrayal. Why didn’t I catch this? he thought to himself. 

He looked up sharply. “It doesn’t change what we’ve done, we need answers there’s a lot more at play here than we know.”

Aqualad leaned back in his chair, his arms folded. “What worries me more is that the League didn’t know about this. They were working with a fake Speedy for all this time, and they didn’t even realize it.”

As the conversation shifted toward the future, the young heroes discussed the ramifications of the situation.

 Miss Martian had recently joined their ranks and remained quiet, her telepathic mind reeling from the layers of deceit and confusion she had sensed the discomfort of her teammates but had yet to fully process the gravity of the situation herself.

The Watchtower was quiet except for the faint hum of its systems and the occasional murmur of heroes passing through. But in the medical bay, a storm of emotions was brewing.

Roy Harper, the original Speedy, had finally opened his eyes. His disoriented gaze shifted around the sterile room, landing on Green Arrow, who stood nearby. 

The older hero’s face was etched with a mix of guilt, relief, and something Roy couldn’t immediately place.

“Roy?” Green Arrow said, stepping closer. His voice was soft, careful, like one might speak to a wounded animal. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

Roy blinked slowly, his mind struggling to piece together what had happened. The memories of his last mission—his real mission—were foggy. All he could recall was pain, darkness, and the vague sense of being trapped.

“What... happened?” Roy rasped “Where am I?”

“You’re on the Watchtower,” Green Arrow explained his tone tight with emotion. “We found you. The League found you. You’ve been... gone for a long time.”

“Gone?” Roy’s voice rose slightly, confusion giving way to anger. “What do you mean, ‘gone’? How long?”

Green Arrow hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. He hated this part. He hated the truth of it. “It’s been years, Roy. We didn’t know. We thought... we thought you were still with us.”

Roy stared at him, disbelief and betrayal flashing across his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped. “If I wasn’t here, where was I? Who was I?”

Green Arrow ran a hand through his hair, his guilt practically radiating off him. “It wasn’t you. Cadmus cloned you. They created a copy—a fake. That clone has been working with us, fighting with us, for years. We didn’t know he wasn’t you.”

Roy’s breath caught in his throat as the words sank in. His hand clenched into fists, the pain in his body now eclipsed by the pain in his chest. “A clone? You didn’t know I was gone because you were working with a clone ?” His voice cracked with fury. “How could you not notice? How could you not know it wasn’t me?”

“I... I’m sorry, Roy,” Green Arrow said quietly. “We all are. None of us realized it until Evira—”

“Who the hell is Evira?” Roy interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “And what does she have to do with this?”

Roy’s anger was simmering as Green Arrow tried to explain the events of the past few years. Every word felt like another betrayal, another wound added to the ones he already carried.

“So, let me get this straight,” Roy said, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “You’ve been working with some knockoff version of me, and none of you noticed? None of you even questioned it?”

Green Arrow looked away, his guilt too heavy to meet Roy’s glare. “We were wrong, Roy. I was wrong. I should’ve known.”

Roy let out a bitter laugh. “Damn right, you should’ve known. You’re supposed to be my mentor, my family! And you couldn’t even tell it wasn’t me?”

Before Green Arrow could respond, the faint pop of butterflies appearing filled the room. A shimmering, purple butterfly landed on the edge of Roy’s bed before dissolving into light. A moment later, Evira’s hologram materialized, her presence calm and composed.

“Roy Harper,” she greeted, her voice warm but firm. “I see you’re awake.”

Roy’s head snapped toward her, his expression hardening. “And you are?”

“Evira,” she replied smoothly. “I’ve been... keeping an eye on things. I was the one who helped the League uncover the truth about your clone. And now, I’m here to help you.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Help me? Why? What do you get out of it?”

Evira’s smile didn’t waver. “Consider this a gesture of goodwill. You’ve been through enough, Roy Harper. It’s time you had something that was truly yours again.”

With a wave of her hand, the butterflies reappeared, dropping the prosthetic arm onto the table beside Roy. Its sleek design gleamed in the light, and the faint hum of magic seemed to pulse from it.

Roy stared at it, his emotions a tangled mess of gratitude, suspicion, and anger. “What’s the catch?” he asked, his voice wary.

“No catch,” Evira said simply. “This is a gift. A freebie, if you will. Use it or don’t—it’s up to you. But I’d suggest giving it a try. I think you’ll find it... quite useful.”

Roy hesitated, his gaze flickering between Evira and the prosthetic. Finally, he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he picked it up. The weight of it felt right, natural, as though it had been made just for him.

Evira’s hologram flickered as she continued. “There’s also a booklet included—guides, instructions, and a few extras you might find interesting. Consider it my way of making amends for what was taken from you.”

Roy didn’t respond, his focus locked on the prosthetic.

The Justice League had gathered to discuss the aftermath of Evira’s actions. The glowing booklet she had sent to Roy lay on the table, along with the prosthetic arm she had provided. The sleek, almost otherworldly design of the arm was unlike anything they’d seen before.

Batman was the first to speak. “This isn’t just a gift,” he said, his voice low and analytical. “This is a message. She’s showing us what she’s capable of—and what she’s willing to do.”

Superman frowned as he studied the prosthetic. “It’s... impressive,” he admitted, though there was a note of unease in his voice. “But why give it to Roy for free? She doesn’t seem like the type to do anything without a price.”

Wonder Woman nodded. “Agreed. Evira’s motives remain unclear, but this gesture—kind as it may seem—comes with strings attached. We need to be cautious.”

Green Lantern folded his arms, his gaze skeptical. “What strings? The kid needed an arm, and she gave him one. Maybe we’re overthinking this.”

“Or maybe we’re not,” Batman countered. “Evira’s been strategic in every move she’s made so far. This isn’t charity—it’s a calculated decision. She’s trying to position herself as someone we can’t ignore.”

The League fell silent for a moment, each of them lost in thought. It was clear that Evira was playing a long game, and they were still trying to figure out the rules.

When Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad entered the room, they were greeted by the sight of Roy sitting up in bed, the prosthetic arm now attached. He looked up as they approached, his expression guarded.

“You’re here,” he said flatly.

The young heroes exchanged uneasy glances before Robin stepped forward. “We wanted to check on you,” he said. “And... we wanted to say we’re sorry. We didn’t know.”

Roy’s gaze hardened. “None of you knew,” he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “That’s the problem.”

Kid Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Look, man, we didn’t mean for this to happen. We thought... we thought he was you.”

Roy let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t. And now I’m supposed to just pick up where I left off? Pretend like everything’s fine?”

“No one’s asking you to do that,” Aqualad said gently. “But we are here for you, Roy. Whatever you need.”

For a moment, Roy said nothing. Then, he reached for the booklet Evira had left him. He slid it across the table toward them.

“Take it,” he said. “It’s from her—Evira. She wanted you to have it. Something tells me your mentors wouldn’t approve.”

Robin picked up the booklet, his expression serious. “Thanks, Roy. We’ll... we’ll take a look.”

As the team left the room, Roy leaned back in his bed, his thoughts swirling. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: he wasn’t going to let anyone else decide his fate. Not anymore.

Chapter Text

The mid-afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of a quiet Metropolis café, casting golden streaks across the polished wood tables. Clark Kent sat at a corner table, his tie slightly loosened, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. It was his break from the relentless demands of The Daily Planet, though his mind was far from at ease.

The last few weeks had been... complicated. The arrival of Evira had thrown his world—and the League’s—into a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty. Her presence was like a catalyst, exposing cracks in their perceptions and forcing them to confront uncomfortable truths.

And then there was Christopher.

Clark sighed, gripping his coffee mug a little tighter. He hadn’t told his parents yet. How could he? How did you even start that conversation? Hey, Mom, Dad, by the way, I have a clone. Oh, and Lex Luthor had a hand in making him. Surprise!

The weight of it all settled heavily on his shoulders. Having a clone was one thing; having one created by his greatest nemesis was another. It felt like Lex had taken something deeply personal—his very DNA—and twisted it into a cruel game. 

Clark didn’t know how to feel about Christopher. The boy wasn’t at fault; he hadn’t asked to exist. But every time Clark looked at him, he saw Lex’s hand in it.

Does that make me a terrible person? he wondered. For not being able to separate the two?

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, he glanced up and froze.

Evira was there, strolling past the café with a baby strapped to her chest. She held a couple of shopping bags in one hand, her pace leisurely. Teddy, the baby, was wide-eyed and curious, babbling softly as he waved a chubby hand at the world around him.

Clark froze, debating whether to stay where he was or leave before she saw him. But Evira’s sharp eyes had already caught his. A small, knowing smile curved her lips, and she changed direction, heading straight for him.

Evira eased into the seat across from Clark, setting her shopping bags on the floor with a casual grace. She adjusted the baby carrier, ensuring Teddy was comfortable before leaning back and giving Clark a pointed look. “Clark Kent,” she greeted, her tone light but carrying an edge of curiosity. “Or should I say Superman?”

Clark stiffened slightly. “Evira,” he said cautiously, nodding in acknowledgment.

She leaned back, her mismatched eyes—one natural, one prosthetic—studying him with unnerving precision. “You’ve been quiet,” she said, cutting to the chase. “Have you even looked at the child custody papers for Christopher?”

Clark hesitated, then sighed. “I... haven’t.”

Her brow arched. “Why not?”

His jaw tightened. “Why do you even want him? He’s my clone—my responsibility. Why do you care?”

Evira’s expression softened, and for the first time, Clark saw a vulnerability in her that caught him off guard. She shifted slightly, adjusting the falling asleep Teddy before answering.

“Because it’s obvious you don’t want him,” she said gently. “And that’s alright, Clark. You don’t have to pretend for my sake or anyone else’s.”

Clark flinched as her words hit a nerve. “That’s not true,” he said defensively. “I... I didn’t ask for this. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Evira’s mismatched eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze piercing. “Does Christopher know that? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s a reminder of something you can’t face. Something you don’t want.”

Clark’s stomach churned with guilt, but he couldn’t find the words to refute her.

Evira gave him a knowing look, her tone remaining calm.“You’re Superman,” she said. “A god among humans, always on the side of good and justice. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders every single day. Do you know how exhausting that must seem to someone like me?”

Clark frowned, his defenses rising. “I chose this, Evira. I chose to be a hero because it’s the right thing to do. Because someone has to stand up for what’s right.”

“And that’s the point,” she said, her voice cutting through his argument like a blade. “You chose it. You willingly put this responsibility on yourself, and you’ll die with it because you won’t let anyone else carry it for you. But that’s who you are, isn’t it? The self-sacrificing hero.”

Clark stared at her, struggling to find the words to refute her.

Evira leaned forward slightly, her voice softening. “I’m not like you, Clark. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. The ring chose me because I’m greedy. And I don’t hide or reject that part of myself. I want, and I take. But I also give—when I choose to.”

She looked down at Teddy, her hand gently stroking his tiny head. “Christopher isn’t just a clone, Clark. He’s a baby. A baby who’s been thrown into a world that’s already against him because of what he is and who made him. And whether you admit it or not, to you, he’s rape baby.”

Clark’s stomach twisted as her words struck a raw chord. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly

“I’m not judging you,” she said, her voice softening. “I know what it’s like to have an rape child. I’ve been there.”

Clark blinked, startled by her admission. “What?”

Evira’s gaze turned distant, her fingers absently tracing patterns on Teddy’s head. “I was nine,” she said quietly. “Just a child myself when... when it happened. When someone took something from me I could never get back.”

Clark’s breath caught, realization dawning.

“I got pregnant,” she continued, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. “And for a long time, I hated that child. Hated the reminder of what was done to me. I almost went through with it—almost got rid of them. But in the end...” She paused.

Her gaze hardening. “I did. And that decision cost me more than I could have imagined. Because of what happened, because of the damage, I can’t have children of my own anymore. That was the price I paid for someone else’s actions.”

Clark felt his throat tighten, the weight of her words pressing down on him.

“I’ve made peace with it,” she said, her tone resolute. “But I understand what it’s like to feel like a child is a burden you never asked for. That’s why I’m offering to take Christopher. Not because you’re a bad person, but because I know you’re trying to be everything to everyone. And sometimes, you can’t be.”

Clark looked away, shame and guilt warring within him. “I don’t know how to be a father,” he admitted quietly.

Evira smiled faintly, her gaze softening. “No one does, Clark. You just have to try.”

She stood then, adjusting the baby carrier and picking up her bags. She paused, looking at him one last time.

“Think about it,” she said. “Not for me, but for him.”

“Clark?” a voice said.

He turned, startled, to see Lois Lane standing in the doorway of the café. She looked impeccable as always, her sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly as they darted between him and Evira.

Evira raised an eyebrow, taking in the subtle tension in Lois’s expression. She immediately recognized the undercurrent of jealousy. A sly smile curled at the corner of her lips.

Lois strode up to their table, her hands on her hips. “Who’s this?” she asked, her tone more casual than her expression suggested.

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but Evira beat him to it. She moved closer to him, slipping her arm through his and resting her head briefly on his shoulder. “Oh, Clarkbear didn’t mention me?” she cooed, her tone light and teasing. “I’m Evira.”

Clark nearly choked on his coffee. “Evira—”

She cut him off with a look, her grin widening. “We were just having a little lunch date. Isn’t that right, Clarkbear?”

Lois blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Clarkbear?” she repeated, her eyes darting to Clark, who was unsuccessfully trying to disentangle himself from Evira’s grip without causing a scene.

“Yes,” Evira said, patting his arm affectionately. “He’s been so sweet, helping me adjust to life here. And I just had to show him my little one.” She stepped back slightly, turning to give Lois a better view of Teddy, who was still contentedly strapped to her chest, chewing on a soft teething ring.

Lois frowned, her expression shifting to confusion. “Your baby?”

“Mm-hmm.” Evira nodded, giving Teddy a fond look. “Isn’t he just the cutest?”

Clark finally found his voice. “Lois, this isn’t what it looks like—”

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Clarkbear,” Evira interrupted, pinching his cheek playfully. “It’s okay to let people know you have options. You don’t have to be so shy.”

Lois’s eyes narrowed. “Options?”

Evira tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Well, it’s not like he has to settle, right? Clark’s an amazing guy. I’m just lucky he noticed me.”

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about not helping.

Lois crossed her arms, clearly not buying the act but visibly annoyed nonetheless. “Clark,” she said, her tone sharp. “Can we talk—alone?”

Evira gave a theatrical gasp, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to intrude! But you should know, Clarkbear’s been very busy lately. You might have to make an appointment.”

Clark shot Evira a look, and she gave him an impish smile in return.

Lois stared at them both, then turned her gaze fully on Clark. “Seriously, Clark, who is this?”

Before Clark could respond, Evira gently patted his arm. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll give you two a moment to chat. Teddy and I have more errands to run anyway.”

She stepped back, giving Lois a polite but knowing nod. “It was lovely meeting you.”

And with that, Evira turned and sauntered out of the café, leaving a bewildered Lois and a thoroughly flustered Clark behind.

—----

Once Evira was out of sight, Lois rounded on Clark, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, spill. Who is she, and what is going on?”

Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s... complicated.”

“Oh, you don’t say.” Lois’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Who is she? And why does she have a baby? Is it—”

“No!” Clark said quickly, his face heating. “The baby isn’t mine. She’s... someone I know from work. Kind of.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “From work? Since when does The Daily Planet hire people like her?”

“It’s not Planet work,” Clark admitted reluctantly. “It’s League stuff.”

Lois’s eyes narrowed further. “League? What kind of League—wait, is this another one of those ‘you’re not telling me everything’ things?”

Clark sighed heavily, knowing he wouldn’t get out of this easily. “Lois, I promise, it’s nothing like you think. Evira is... complicated. She’s part of something I can’t really explain right now.”

Lois studied him for a long moment, clearly unsatisfied but deciding not to press further—for now. “Fine. But don’t think this conversation is over.”

Clark nodded, grateful for the reprieve, but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of guilt as Lois grabbed her coffee to go and walked out.

—----

Outside, across the street, Evira watched the whole exchange through a shop window, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Clarkbear, huh?” she muttered to herself, gently rocking Teddy. “I might have to use that again.”

With a soft laugh, she turned and continued on her way, her mind already racing with ideas for her next encounter with the ever-serious Man of Steel.

—---

Christopher adjusted his tie for the fifth time since leaving the alleyway where Evira had apparated them. The crisp blazer of Gotham Academy fit him perfectly, thanks to Evira’s careful tailoring (and a touch of magic), but it still felt strange. He looked over at Harry, who was practically vibrating with excitement.

“This place is amazing, Chris!” Harry said, glancing up at the towering gothic architecture of Gotham Academy. “It’s like a castle, but...gothic.”

Christopher nodded, his face unreadable. “It’s... big.”

“It’ll be fun,” Harry added, punching his arm lightly. “Don’t look so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Christopher said, his voice steady. “Just... figuring out how to do this. Cadmus didn’t exactly program me with school etiquette.”

Harry’s grin faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. “Well, if you need help, just find me, okay? I’m not in your class, but I’ll be around.”

“Yeah.” Christopher nodded again, feeling a flicker of warmth at Harry’s determination to stick close to him.

—--

By the time the bell rang for the first class, Christopher had already attracted a lot of stares. His striking features, flawless posture, and quiet confidence seemed to leave people both intrigued and unsure of how to approach him.

“Who is he?”
“Is he related to the Waynes? He’s got that look about him...”
“Maybe he’s a new member of Gotham’s elite?”

Christopher’s responses were as rehearsed as they were polite. He could see right through their interest—it was not curiosity about him, but about his lineage. Whispers followed him from one class to another. “Who are your parents?” “Where do you live?” “Is it true you’ve been tutored by some of the best?”

He dodged the questions easily, offering vague, yet civil, answers. “I’m new to Gotham,” he’d say, or, “I’ve just moved here recently.”

—---

By lunchtime, the whispers had only increased. Christopher and Harry found a table near the back, mostly unnoticed by the crowd of Gotham’s elite, where they could at least enjoy their meal without being the center of attention. Harry wasted no time digging into the lunch Evira had packed, grinning at the strange assortment of food.

“This is better than anything I’ve had before,” Harry exclaimed between bites of tempura. “Seriously, she must’ve had the house elf make it, but I’m not complaining.”

Christopher’s eyes wandered across the cafeteria. It was a vast, high-ceilinged room filled with rich kids laughing, chatting, and debating fiercely over the latest trends. They made him feel like an outsider, even if his appearance earned him a few intrigued glances.

“It’s just food, Harry,” Christopher said, reaching for a piece of sushi. “It’s fine.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sound bored at food. You sure you’re okay?”

Christopher shrugged. “I’m fine. I just... don’t get the point. They teach us things I already know.”

Harry laughed, nudging him. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. It’s not just about schoolwork. It’s about learning how to fit in , how to be part of something .”

Christopher looked at him, unsure. Harry, with his bright-eyed enthusiasm, was always able to make the most mundane things sound exciting.

“You’ll get it,” Harry said with a grin. “Besides, you’ve got me. I know what it’s like to be the new guy. Don’t worry—I’ve got your back.”

—---

After lunch, Harry was practically bouncing in his seat. “I’m going to find Tim Drake,” he declared, standing up and adjusting his bag.

“Who?” Christopher asked.

“Tim! He’s a kid my age in high school. He’s supposed to be super smart, like Hermione. I bet he’d be a great friend.” Harry flashed a grin, clearly already excited about meeting someone new.

“You know, it might be weird to just walk up to him,” Christopher pointed out, a little amused at Harry’s energy.

“I’ll manage,” Harry said breezily. “Trust me.”

—---

As Christopher made his way through the crowded hallways, he couldn’t help but notice a few familiar faces among the crowd,, their own identities. Despite the complexity of his own feelings, he couldn’t shake the fact that he was surrounded by people with more depth than they appeared.

Dick Grayson, wearing a casual but confident smile, waved at him from across the hall. Christopher couldn’t help but recognize the ease with which Dick carried himself—it was the sort of charm he’d seen in Evira.

Christopher knew full well who Dick was, just as he knew about Barbara Gordon and Artemis Crock, though neither of them had made an effort to speak to him yet. Evira had told him everything.

As Dick approached, his friendly smile never wavered. “Hey, you’re new here, right? Christopher, right?” he said, offering a hand. “I’m Dick. We should hang out sometime. Gotham Academy’s a lot to take in at first, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

Christopher hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. “Yeah... sure. I’m still figuring things out.”

Barbara, who had been standing beside Dick, raised an eyebrow. “Still, it’s good to have you here. Gotham’s not exactly known for its warm welcome, but I think you’ll find your place.”

Artemis, always a bit more reserved, gave him a sharp look but didn’t say much. She simply gave him a quick nod. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t let Gotham eat you alive.”

Christopher nodded, feeling an odd sense of reassurance despite his uncertainty. It felt nice, at least, to have some people reaching out, even if it wasn’t with the warmth he’d expected.

—--

Harry found Tim Drake during the last period of the day, sitting alone in the library, hunched over a book.

“Tim!” Harry grinned, walking over to the table. “You’re Tim, right? I’m Harry, and I’m new here. I’ve got to say, this place is amazing .”

Tim looked up slowly, eyes narrowing before relaxing into a smile. “I’ve seen you around. The new kid who isn’t afraid to talk to anyone, huh?”

Harry smiled wider. “Yup. Pretty much. Got a problem with that?”

Tim shook his head, closing his book. “Not at all. I could use a little more boldness around here. You, uh, doing okay? It can be a bit overwhelming at first.”

“Yeah, it’s a little intense, but I’m getting the hang of it. You’re the kid that’s super smart, right? Like, Hermione-smart?”

Tim chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. But yeah, I guess you could say I’m into a lot of things. It’s hard to get bored here.”

—--

As the school day finally ended and Christopher met Harry at the gates, the two of them walked together toward the alley where Evira had dropped them off earlier. Harry was chatting animatedly about Tim, and Christopher couldn’t help but feel a little lighter.

“How was your day?” Harry asked, nudging Christopher with his shoulder.

“Fine,” Christopher said, his lips quirking into a small smile. “I’m just trying to figure it all out.”

Harry grinned. “You’ll be fine. I know it. We’ve got this.”

It wasn’t much, but to Christopher, it was everything. A simple moment of connection, of family, in a world that felt completely new and sometimes overwhelming.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Christopher said, looking over at Harry with a slight nod. “Maybe... maybe we do.”

As they walked, they felt the weight of the day lift, a little bit of peace settling between them. Family, in all its chaotic, confusing, wonderful forms, was worth navigating this strange, new world.

And for the first time, Christopher believed it.

—---

Dick leaned back in the chair in the Batcave, lazily spinning it from side to side. The faint hum of the Batcomputer filled the space as Bruce silently worked through a stack of data. Alfred moved about quietly, tidying up the already spotless cave, a tray of tea and sandwiches placed strategically on the console.

Dick finally broke the silence. “So... Christopher.”

Bruce didn’t look away from the screen, his fingers pausing momentarily over the keyboard. “What about him?”

“I mean... he’s with Evira,” Dick said, tilting his head toward Bruce. “We saw her pick him up after school. She left with him and Harry out of an alley like it was nothing. Not exactly something you see every day.”

Bruce stopped typing and turned to face him, his expression neutral but intense. “And?”

“And... don’t you think it’s worth talking about? Evira is... well, Evira. And now she’s got this kid—a Kryptonian hybrid, by the way—living under her roof. That doesn’t set off any alarms for you?”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “It does. But Evira is an enigma. We don’t know enough about her to determine her true intentions, which makes any assumptions dangerous. That said, she hasn’t shown hostility toward us—yet. Her actions seem... protective.”

“Protective?” Dick said, raising an eyebrow. “She’s been playing the League like a fiddle. She’s got her own agenda, Bruce.”

“I don’t disagree,” Bruce said calmly. “But think about Christopher. If he’s a clone of Superman, made by Cadmus with Lex Luthor’s DNA, where else would he go? The League can’t give him a normal life. Evira... might be able to, in her own way.”

Dick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You really think someone like her is qualified to raise a kid like him?”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I was qualified to raise you?”

Dick opened his mouth to argue but stopped, the words dying on his tongue.

The boy’s frustration was understandable. Christopher’s sudden appearance, Evira’s enigmatic presence, and the secrets that seemed to follow them were unsettling. Bruce himself was wrestling with the implications.

“Christopher was calm,” Bruce said after a moment. “Observant. He didn’t seem unsettled by Evira’s methods or her... eccentricities. That tells me he’s stay with, was enough to adapt to her world.”

“Or that he’s terrified to cross her,” Dick muttered under his breath.

Bruce ignored the comment. “He’s an unknown, yes, but not necessarily a threat. And he’s not alone. He’s got Harry and the others. If anything, Evira seems intent on building a... family, of sorts.”

Dick snorted. “A magical, misfit family with an alien clone as the cherry on top. Sounds totally normal.”

Alfred, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “Master Dick, if I may, one should not judge the composition of a family by its unusual elements. After all, the Wayne family itself could hardly be considered conventional.”

Dick laughed despite himself. “Yeah, fair point, Alfred.”

Bruce shifted gears. “Speaking of unconventional families... how’s the team?”

Dick shrugged. “They’re good. We’re still figuring out the whole ‘working together’ thing, but it’s coming along. Kaldur’s solid as a leader. Artemis and Wally... well, you know how they are. And Miss Martian’s still adjusting to Earth, but she’s sweet. I think she’ll be fine.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. “And Artemis? Is she fitting in?”

“She’s... complicated,” Dick admitted. “But yeah, she’s pulling her weight. She’s a lot more than the attitude she throws around.”

Bruce seemed to consider this. “Do you think I should bring batgirl into the fold?”

Dick blinked, surprised by the question. “You’re serious?”

“She’s already pieced together more about our operations than most would,” Bruce said. “And keeping her out of it might put her in more danger.”

Dick frowned. “I mean... yeah, she’s smart. And stubborn. But are you sure you want to drag her into this? It’s not exactly a life you can walk away from.”

Bruce’s voice softened, though his expression didn’t. “It’s not my choice to make. It’s hers. But if she’s going to be involved, she needs to be prepared.”

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But you’re talking to her dad, not me.”

Bruce smirked faintly. “Noted.”

After a moment of silence, Dick turned back to the screens, watching as Bruce pulled up surveillance footage of Evira’s appearance at the school.

“She’s good at staying off the radar,” Bruce muttered, mostly to himself.

“Yeah, except for when she magically away out of Gotham Academy,” Dick quipped. “Kind of hard to miss that.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Evira’s methods are unconventional, but effective. She doesn’t play by our rules, which makes her unpredictable. But she’s also not careless. If Christopher and Harry are with her, it’s because she believes she can protect them better than anyone else.”

Dick crossed his arms. “You almost sound like you trust her.”

“I don’t,” Bruce said flatly. “But I trust her instincts when it comes to her... family. For now.”

Alfred approached with a fresh pot of tea, setting it down gently on the table. “If I may, sirs, young Christopher appears to be navigating a very new world. Perhaps he simply requires time to find his footing.”

Bruce nodded. “We’ll give him that time. But we’ll also be watching.”

Dick smirked. “Gotta love the Bat paranoia.”

Bruce didn’t respond, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned back to the computer, the shadows of Gotham and its newest players filling the screens before him.

Chapter Text

Harry stumbled as the world spun wildly around him, the telltale disorienting lurch of the portkey settling in his stomach. He tightened his grip on Christopher’s arm, steadying himself before they both landed in a heap on the floor of the manor’s grand entrance hall.

“You alright, Chris?” Harry asked, brushing off his robes.

Christopher nodded, his face pale but composed. “I’m fine. Just... didn’t expect the portkey to feel like that.”

“You get used to it,” Harry said, grinning. “Well, sort of.”

The grand entrance hall was beauitful dark wood floors gleaming, tall windows letting in the late afternoon light, and a faint magical hum in the air that made the house feel alive.

A familiar voice echoed from deeper in the manor. “They’re back!”

Seconds later, Tom and Hermione appeared at the top of the sweeping staircase. Tom, looking ever the prim twelve-year-old, adjusted his perfectly pressed vest while Hermione practically skipped down the stairs, her curls bouncing as she waved excitedly.

“How was school?” Hermione asked, rushing to meet them. “Did you meet anyone interesting? Was Gotham Academy as ridiculous as it looks in the brochures? Oh, and Harry, did you finish that reading list I sent?”

Harry laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Slow down, Hermione! We’ve only just got back!”

Tom crossed his arms and smirked. “Clearly, they survived. That’s all I care about.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for the concern,” Harry shot back, though he was smiling.

Christopher shifted beside him, a little overwhelmed by the warm welcome. “School was... fine,” he said cautiously, glancing at Tom and Hermione.

“Define fine,” Tom said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Leave him alone, Tom,” Hermione said, smacking his arm lightly. “Not everyone enjoys interrogations the way you do.”

“I wasn’t interrogating,” Tom muttered

As they moved toward the sitting room, the scent of fresh pastries wafted through the air, and Harry’s stomach growled loudly.

“Master Green eyes and Master Strong have returned!” a cheerful voice announced.

Fizbit a young house elf appeared with a pop, balancing a tray laden with tea, sandwiches, and pastries. His large eyes sparkled as he hurried to place the tray on the low table in the center of the room.

“Fizbit has prepared everything for the young masters,” he said, bowing low. “Mistress Evira instructed Fizbit to make sure you are all comfortable.”

Harry beamed at the little elf. “Thanks, Fizbit. This looks amazing.”

Christopher hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Harry nudged him. “It’s okay. Fizbit’s great. Just say thanks.”

“Uh, thanks,” Christopher said awkwardly.

Fizbit’s ears wiggled with delight. “Master Strong is most welcome!”

As the group settled onto the plush sofas, Hermione launched into a barrage of questions about their classes, teachers, and classmates.

“So, Harry, did you meet Tim Drake? You mentioned there was another kid your age in high school.”

Harry nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Tim’s great! He’s super smart—kind of reminds me of you, Hermione. And he’s got this detective thing going on, like he sees everything. It’s a little spooky, but cool.”

Hermione grinned, clearly flattered by the comparison. “Sounds like someone worth knowing.”

Tom leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “And the Gotham kids? Did they give you trouble?”

“Not really,” Harry said. “Most of them were too busy trying to figure out where Chris and I came from. They’re all so... fancy. It’s kind of weird.”

“Fancy’s one word for it,” Christopher muttered, earning a laugh from Harry.

“And you, Christopher?” Tom asked, his tone gentler. “What was it like for you?”

Christopher hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. “It was... different. People kept staring at me. Asking questions.” He looked up, his eyes searching for reassurance. “I don’t really get it. I’m just... me.”

Hermione reached over and patted his hand. “You’re not just anything, Chris. You’re... well, you’re you. And if they’re staring, it’s probably because they can tell how awesome you are.”

Christopher blinked at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Hermione.”

Neville stumbled, steadying himself against the doorframe, his face breaking into a wide grin when he spotted Harry.

“Oi, Harry!” he called out, running a hand through his slightly tousled hair. “I was starting to think you’d beat me back here.”

Harry waved from the sofa. “Nah, just got here a bit earlier. How’s Coast City?”

Neville shrugged as he joined the others in the sitting room. “Sunny. Greenhouses everywhere, though, so that’s a plus. You’d love it, Hermione.”

Hermione perked up. “I do love a good greenhouse. Did you learn anything interesting?”

“Loads. I’ve been experimenting with magical flora, seeing how they interact with regular plants. There’s this hybrid I’m working on—”

“ Neville, ” Tom interrupted, exasperation clear in his voice. “We’re supposed to be relaxing, not diving into another plant lecture.”

Neville flushed but grinned sheepishly. “Fair enough.”

Later that evening, the kids gathered outside in the manor’s expansive backyard for their usual training session. Evira had insisted they maintain their magical and physical skills while also developing teamwork. Even Hermione, who typically preferred a book to a broom, joined in, though she often grumbled about it.

Christopher was adjusting to the routines more quickly now. His strength, though still something he feared, was gradually becoming less of a hindrance as he learned to control it. Today’s session focused on reflexes, with Harry and Tom testing Christopher by hurling harmless but fast-moving magical orbs at him.

“Faster, Chris!” Harry called out, flinging another orb his way.

Christopher caught it with ease, his face breaking into a small, satisfied smile. “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

“You’d better,” Tom teased, smirking. “Otherwise, how are you going to keep up with me?”

Neville snorted. “You mean us. We’ve all got our strengths, Tom.”

“Oh, please,” Tom replied, though his tone lacked venom. “It’s not arrogance if it’s true.”

Hermione threw an orb at him, which he barely dodged. “Don’t get too cocky, Tom.”

By the end of the session, the group sprawled across the grass, sweaty and laughing. Even Christopher looked more relaxed than he had that morning.

Soft sound of heels clicking against the stone pathway announced Evira’s arrival. She emerged from the shadows, a series of ornate shopping bags floating behind her, and Teddy perched happily in his sling against her chest.

“There you all are,” Evira said, her voice light. “Sweaty, dirty, and utterly adorable.”

“Did you bring food?” Harry asked, sitting up hopefully.

“I brought something better than food,” Evira replied with a sly grin, gesturing to the floating bags. “Clothes!”

Groans erupted from the group.

“Not this again,” Tom muttered. “Why do we need more clothes? We’re fine with what we’ve got!”

“Because,” Evira said, as if addressing a classroom of particularly slow students, “how you present yourself is everything. Christopher especially needs a style. Something distinct, powerful, and uniquely his.”

Christopher frowned. “Why? What’s wrong with what I wear now?”

Evira smiled, setting the bags down on the grass and taking a seat beside them. “There’s nothing wrong, per se. But clothing isn’t just fabric, darling—it’s armor. It’s how the world perceives you and, more importantly, how you see yourself. Do you know why I’m so vain?”

“Because you like staring at your reflection?” Tom offered.

“Because I understand control,” Evira corrected, ignoring his cheek. “When people see me, they see what I want them to see. Strength. Elegance. Power. If you control how the world sees you, you’ve already won half the battle.”

Harry leaned back, intrigued. “I guess that makes sense. People do judge based on appearances.”

“Exactly,” Evira said. “It’s not shallow—it’s strategy. Christopher, this is as much a lesson as any of the training we’ve been doing. You need to understand your power and how to wield it, both physically and... socially.”

Christopher still looked skeptical, but Hermione chimed in. “She’s got a point, Chris. It’s not just about clothes—it’s about confidence. And, well, looking good doesn’t hurt.”

Evira clapped her hands together. “See? Hermione gets it.” She started pulling items from the bags—sleek jackets, fitted shirts, stylish boots—and held them up for Christopher to inspect. “These are for you. Trust me, darling, you’ll look incredible.”

“I think he already does,” Neville said, offering Christopher a supportive smile.

Christopher glanced around at his siblings, who were all nodding or smirking in varying degrees of agreement. Finally, he sighed. “Alright. I’ll try them on.”

“Wonderful!” Evira exclaimed, beaming. “Now, let’s make sure everything fits perfectly. And remember, Christopher: you’re not just wearing clothes. You’re wearing confidence.”

As the evening progressed, the kids’ groans about fashion turned into laughter as Evira, ever dramatic, demonstrated runway walks and poses to lighten the mood. Even Fizbit joined in, mimicking her poses to the delight of everyone present.

By the time the moon rose over the manor, Christopher had tried on nearly everything and found himself unexpectedly pleased with the results. For the first time, he began to understand what Evira had meant about control and confidence.

As they all gathered in the living room later that night, sharing stories and snacks, Harry looked around at his family and felt a warmth he couldn’t quite describe. It didn’t matter where they came from or what challenges lay ahead—they were in this together.

And that was all that mattered.