"That's the story," I sighed, exhaling slowly as mories of my incredible adventures replayed in my mind like fragnts from a half-forgotten dream. "I know it's hard to believe, but—"
"So, let get this straight," my companion interrupted, narrowing their eyes. "You pretended to be a completely new villain so no one would link you to your real identity, deceived Ulysses Klaue, and sohow managed to buy vibranium right under his nose. Did I miss anything?"
"You missed the point!" I shot back, my voice rising in mock indignation. "But, in principle… yes, that's the gist of it. Just rember—there's a new player in this sinful little world now, and I fully intend to keep it that way. I've been thinking I shouldn't reveal my new identity to just anyone—especially not to other heroes. Best to keep up appearances, build so mystery. Besides," I chuckled under my breath, "I'd rather Superman doesn't accidentally turn into space dust. That's a problem for another ti. I'll figure sothing out when the mont cos. Speaking of which—Pala will have the right flower ready soon, which ans the super-soldier serum is almost complete, correct?"
"According to my research—and Kavita's and Pala's—we have a very high probability of success," ca the reply, calm but tinged with excitent. "Unless, of course, so unforeseen factors decide to show up."
"Let's hope for the best," I muttered with conviction. "Three brilliant minds working together to recreate Dr. Erskine's masterpiece… I refuse to believe we can't rediscover the formula."
The following two days were a blur of focused work within the familiar walls of my company headquarters. I threw myself into overseeing our mobile ga projects—Fruit Ninja was leaping forward in developnt, every new build smoother than the last. Down the hall, our programrs were pouring the sa intensity into the sequel to the explosive hit Angry Birds. Yet, despite these achievents, my mind kept drifting back to a single, stubborn question about vibranium.
A tal so rare it borders on the mythical—stronger than any alloy on Earth, with the uncanny ability to absorb vibrations completely. Majestic, dangerous… and notoriously difficult to process. Simply obtaining it had been a feat in itself, but shaping it? That was another battle entirely. I could almost picture the process taking place in Wakanda, in workshops steeped in centuries-old secrets. I wanted—no, needed—to see their master craftsn at work, to watch how they tad a material that refused to be tad.
Bruce, of course, could probably figure it out before breakfast, but I couldn't keep running to him for help every ti my hands were tied. Klaue might deliver more vibranium in the future, and if that happened, I would have to stand on my own. That line of thought led to an inescapable conclusion: I needed more people—skilled, loyal, innovative minds who could push the boundaries of technology at my side.
First, though, I would need the right space for such work. Babylon was already earmarked for other high-priority research—genetics, mutation studies, toxicology, and pharmacology. No, if I was going to bend vibranium to my will, I needed an entirely new facility. Sothing built from the ground up with precision engineering in mind.
So, I made the decision: we'd construct an advanced research complex in the city—an architectural marvel that would house tomorrow's breakthroughs. It would be in that gleaming heart of innovation that I'd create a machine capable of processing and shaping the elusive, vibration-absorbing tal.
Heather, ever-efficient, was tasked with finding a pri location and starting construction imdiately. The job went, once again, to the sa firm already spearheading our new mobile gaming division headquarters. They swore they could have the structure ready in less than a month—a bold promise. I would hold them to it.
That night, I was in my workshop, leaning over my bench as I adjusted the final settings on my hologram glasses. The world outside the lab seed far away—just , the hum of tools, and a dozen ideas bouncing around my head.
Naturally, that's when the phone rang. The sharp sound cut through the air like a thrown blade. Typical—just when you're on the verge of a breakthrough.
The na flashing on the display pulled a smirk from . Of course it would be him.
"Your call is very important to you… Please wait for the answering machine," I intoned in my best cold, robotic voice.
"Original, as always," ca the amused reply on the other end.
"Aaron, my friend—you've perfected your timing," I said warmly, recognizing the trusted guard from Arkham. "A second later and you might have missed entirely. What's the word?"
"Harley Quinzel has secured early release," he reported quickly. "She's been officially declared sane and fit to live among the public. But you'd better get here fast—Hugo Strange is sniffing around, and I wouldn't put it past him to derail the whole thing."
"I understand… Thanks for the heads-up."
For a mont, I just stood there, letting the news settle. Harley, out already? That was… unexpectedly fast. Then again, she'd always been a brilliant psychologist—everyone knew that. Still, I couldn't imagine anyone actually hiring her for marriage counseling. Though a part of was morbidly curious to see what that would look like.
But there was also Hugo Strange, and he was not the kind of complication one could ignore. If he wanted to interfere, he'd find a way—unless I got there first.
One thing was certain: Harley was getting out, and I was going to personally make sure of it.
Ah, the fun never ends. And truth be told… I wouldn't want it any other way.
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Thank you all for reading, I know that the chapter is on the smaller side, sorry for that 😞.
Today's word is "Sesquipedalian"
It has a funny aning, search it up if you don't know.
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