🚨🚨🚨Read my new story Peter Parker: To Think is To Choose.✅✅✅
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"In every story that ends, the world writes a sequel in secret."
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Snow fell like powdered glass over four cities at once.
In Metropolis, Central City, Star City and Atlantis, frost villains struck — petty criminals wrapped in elemental tantrums, trying to reclaim relevance in a world now haunted by gods.
Aqualad surged through frozen tides, his twin water bearers glowing as he shattered crystalline spikes, freeing trapped Atlantean citizens.
Robin swung through Gotham's steel canyons beside Batman, disarming Dr. Freeze's cryo-charges before they could detonate.
Wally West, blurring gold and red, evacuated civilians before Flash shut down Captain Cold's rigged reactor.
Speedy, his breath sharp and visible in the frigid air, fired explosive shafts alongside Green Arrow, every shot deliberate, disciplined, deadly. They knocked out Killer Frost.
When the final villain fell and the last of the frost melted into steam, the four sidekicks stood apart from the crowd of their mentors — tired, proud and hungry for something more.
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They arrived together at the Hall of Justice, gleaming in the sun like a monument to legacy.
The heroes they idolized — Superman, Batman, Aquaman, Flash and Green Arrow — waited inside.
"Take a seat." Batman said curtly, gesturing toward the Justice Library. The sidekicks obeyed, the polished floors reflecting the faintest hint of their excitement.
Speedy crossed his arms.
"So… when do we get our League communicators?"
Superman smiled faintly.
"You're doing great work, Roy. All of you are. Just—baby steps."
That was the wrong phrase.
"Baby steps?" Roy's voice rose, the tension he'd buried beneath months of obedience surfacing like a blade.
"We risk our necks the same as you do! We take your orders, we save your cities and we don't even get to sit at the real table?"
"Roy—" Green Arrow started, but Speedy cut him off, finger stabbing toward the marble ceiling.
"Dude we're in the Hall of Justice. The League HQ. I call this a significant advancement." Tried to assure Tim.
"This is just a tourist trap!!! The main HQ is in space. It's a gargantuan space station orbiting the Earth." Yelled Speedy.
The words struck like lightning.
Wally blinked.
Robin looked up, shocked.
Aqualad's expression also shifted but the silence said everything.
The mentors exchanged looks — old, tired, guilty.
"Do you not trust us my king?" Asks Aqualad.
Aquaman sighed first. "We wanted to tell you when you were ready."
"We are ready." Roy hissed.
Then he ripped off his bycockett, letting it hit the floor.
"I'm done waiting for permission to be what I already am."
He stormed out, the echo of his boots cracking through the Justice Library.
The others sat in silence — the kind of silence that births revolutions.
Gotham City, the same evening
At Quinn & Ink, the soft buzz of tattoo needles sang beneath the hum of jazz like always.
It was closing hour.
Ace Quinn stepped out the back door with two garbage bags in her hands, breaths deep. The neon from the shop painted her skin in pinks and purples.
She was twenty now and it showed.
Floral tattoos bloomed over her arms and throat; roses coiled around serpents and spiderwebs down her legs. Her earlobes were considerably stretched with silver gauges. A septum ring framed her nose. Her bob cut black hair was tied back into a simple ponytail.

Behind her, laughter drifted from inside — Harley Quinn, now more matriarch than maniac, teasing one of her apprentices.
Rick, Ace's boyfriend and one of Harley's first apprentice, shouted something about cleaning up, earning a mock scolding from Harley.
Family. Imperfect, loud, real.
Ace smiled faintly. "Yeah, I got it."
Then — a whisper of steel.
She dropped the trash instantly, eyes narrowing. Three shuriken sliced through the air, one grazing her cheek before her body shimmered with a faint psychic pulse.
Her second skin — a subconscious psionic barrier King himself once described as, "Instinct made manifest" — ignited.
The throwing stars clattered to the ground, warped.
Two figures stepped from the alley's shadow:
Cheshire, all venom and grace, twin blades glinting under the Gotham moon. Her cat themed grinning mask and wild hair making her look like a wild cat.
Beside her — Gamemaster, tapping his glove, projecting tactical data through his grey hockey mask.
"The daughter of Harley Quinn and King's apprentice." Cheshire sneered.
"Let's see if the rumors are true."
Ace cracked her neck.
"You picked the wrong trash night."
The air rippled — a pulse of telekinetic force hurled them both into opposite walls, bones audibly cracking as the impact echoed.
Not enough to kill — just enough to remind them what mercy felt like and boy did it hurt.
They hit the ground in a heap, moaning.
Ace exhaled through her nose, wiping the blood from her cheek with the back of her hand.
She glanced skyward — the Gotham skyline bruised with light — and muttered,
"The world's getting noisy again and I need a tetanus shot."
From inside, Harley's voice rang out,
"Ace! You comin' or what, puddin'? Rick's burnin' the fries again!"
Ace rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin', Ma."
She turned back toward the shop, the tattoo gun's buzz like a lullaby to the city's chaos.
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Inside, King sat alone in his usual corner, motionless — the stillness of a mountain, the calm of a storm in waiting.
His eyes shifted once toward the distance — where the two assassins lay broken, their presence already forgotten by the city.
He exhaled softly, voice barely a whisper.
"So… another story begins."
The clock struck midnight.
And far above the clouds, a lonely satellite — the Watchtower — glowed faintly like a new star, unseen but waiting.
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Danzoslayer517
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