In DC/Young Justice with the Omnitrix/Ultimatrix and a Chat Group Chapter 14: Let's see what I can do with this

The sll hits first.

Crispy, golden perfection wafting through the air, mingled with the unmistakable aroma of spices and lted cheese.

My stomach growls with surprising intensity, and I feel an inexplicable craving that seems to bypass all rational thought.

"Chili fries?" I murmur, staring at the food cart we're passing in downtown Gotham.

It's Friday afternoon, and Alfred is driving back to Wayne Manor after my day at GSI.

We're stuck in traffic, windows partially down due to the unseasonably warm weather, which is how the tantalizing aroma managed to infiltrate the Bentley's usually impeccable interior.

"Would you care to stop, Master Samael?" Alfred asks, noting my distraction.

I'm about to decline - we have a schedule to maintain, after all - but sothing about the sll is irresistible. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble," I hear myself say.

Alfred's eyebrow rises fractionally in the rearview mirror, but he smoothly pulls the car to the curb. "Not at all. I'll wait here."

Minutes later, I'm holding a paper tray heaped with chili fries, the steam rising in a savory cloud. The first bite is... transcendent.

Far better than it has any right to be. I devour them with embarrassing enthusiasm, standing right there on the sidewalk.

"These are exceptional," I say to the vendor, who looks surprised at my intensity.

"Just the usual recipe, kid," he shrugs. "But thanks."

Back in the car, Alfred tactfully says nothing about the empty tray or the fact that I've just ruined my appetite before dinner. But I catch his curious glance in the mirror.

"I apologize, Alfred," I say, feeling oddly sheepish. "I had a sudden, inexplicable craving."

"Quite all right, Master Samael. The young have their peculiar dietary preferences." His tone is perfectly proper, but I detect a hint of amusent.

This craving feels foreign yet sohow familiar—like a mory that isn't quite mine. The realization hits suddenly:

Albedo. In the Ben 10 universe, Albedo - the Galvan who created his own Omnitrix and ended up trapped in human form with Ben's appearance - developed an addiction to chili fries.

My appearance resembles Albedo's with the white hair and red eyes. Perhaps more of his bodily characteristics transferred than I realized. The thought is both disturbing and fascinating.

As we continue toward Wayne Manor, my mind shifts to tomorrow's Justice League assessnt.

Bruce has provided limited details, emphasizing only that I should be prepared to demonstrate my "transformation capabilities" and answer questions about the Ultimatrix.

"Master Bruce asked to remind you that you'll be departing at nine tomorrow morning," Alfred says, as if reading my thoughts.

"He suggests you review your notes regarding the device's technical specifications, as there may be detailed inquiries."

"Thank you, Alfred," I reply. "I've been preparing."

Indeed I have. The hours I spent as Graymatter analyzing the Ultimatrix's structure and creating a plausible backstory for its developnt should prove useful.

I've constructed a technical explanation that sounds convincing while revealing nothing about its true nature or full capabilities.

At the manor, I spend the evening in my room, ostensibly reviewing my notes but actually preparing ntally for multiple contingencies.

The Justice League will likely have protocols for assessing potential ta-humans, possibly including telepathic screening - though this being sothing they would not utter out loud.

I'll need to be careful about my thoughts without appearing to be hiding sothing.

Bruce joins for dinner, during which he provides a few more details about tomorrow's assessnt.

"The League will have a significant presence tomorrow," he informs . "Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Black Canary, Green Arrow, Red Tornado, and Martian Manhunter will all be attending."

I raise my eyebrows, genuinely surprised at the high-level attendance. "That's... quite a reception committee."

"Your abilities and technology have drawn considerable interest," Bruce explains. "Superman and Wonder Woman, in particular, requested to be present for the assessnt."

I understand the subtext imdiately. Superman's involvent suggests concerns about potential Kryptonian-level powers, while Wonder Woman's presence indicates possible magical elents being considered.

"I see," I reply neutrally. "That should make for a thorough evaluation."

"Indeed," Bruce agrees. "They each bring different expertise and perspectives to the assessnt."

"Will I be eting the Young Justice team as well?" I ask directly.

Bruce's expression reveals nothing. "They train at the facility on Saturdays. There may be an introduction if ti permits."

Which ans it's deliberately planned, but he wants to maintain the appearance of casualness. Typical Batman strategy.

"I see," I reply. "That could be interesting."

"It could," he agrees. "They provide a unique perspective on developing abilities at a young age."

The rest of the evening passes with routine discussions of school and research. Bruce retires early, citing preparations for tomorrow, though I suspect he's also giving space to process what's coming.

Sleep cos fitfully that night, my mind cycling through scenarios and contingency plans. By morning, I feel prepared but not entirely rested.

Breakfast is quiet and efficient. Bruce is dressed casually but expensively - maintaining his civilian identity for the journey.

I opt for simple comfort: jeans, a dark blue button-down, and a light jacket that conceals the Ultimatrix without looking suspicious.

We depart precisely at eight, taking one of Bruce's less ostentatious vehicles - a black SUV with tinted windows.

The drive to Happy Harbor, Rhode Island takes several hours, during which Bruce briefs further on Justice League protocols.

"They'll ask about the origin of your device," he says. "Be truthful but rember that technical details can be simplified for those without your specific knowledge."

I understand his aning: stick to story but don't overelaborate. Even he apparently understands that sothings I deserve to keep to myself.

Who would have guessed?

"Of course."

"They'll also want to understand the extent of your transformation abilities. The energy absorption they witnessed with the Joker incident is of particular interest."

I nod. "I'm prepared to demonstrate under controlled conditions."

"Good." He glances at briefly before returning his attention to the road. "One more thing. Martian Manhunter may request permission for a surface telepathic scan.

This is standard protocol for new ta-humans or technology of unknown origin. You have the right to decline."

This is the complication I've been anticipating. A telepathic scan could reveal too much about my true origins. "What exactly would such a scan entail?"

"Nothing invasive," Bruce assures . "Surface thoughts only, focused specifically on your intentions regarding the device and its use. J'onn is scrupulous about respecting ntal privacy."

I consider this carefully. Refusing - no matter how normal, for people don't want their privacy invaded, especially their mind, would appear sowhat suspicious. But agreeing as well presents risks.

"I'll consider it if asked," I say finally.

Bruce seems satisfied with this response. The remainder of the journey passes in comfortable silence, the landscape gradually changing from Gotham's urban sprawl to the coastal scenery of Rhode Island.

Mount Justice is impressive even from the outside - a natural formation that conceals one of the most advanced facilities on the planet.

Bruce parks in what appears to be an ordinary clearing, but I notice the subtle security asures: camouflaged caras, motion sensors, and what are likely identity scanners disguised as natural elents.

"We walk from here," he says, leading toward what looks like a solid rock face.

A hidden door slides open as we approach, revealing a brightly lit corridor carved into the mountain itself.

The technology is seamlessly integrated with the natural rock, creating an environnt that feels both organic and advanced.

"Recognized: Batman, 02. Guest: Samael Morningstar, A03," announces a computerized voice as we pass through a scanner.

The corridor opens into a vast central chamber with soaring ceilings and multiple levels.

Advanced computer terminals, training areas, and what appears to be a holographic projection system occupy the main floor.

The design is efficient yet impressive - clearly ant to accommodate beings with various abilities while maintaining security and functionality.

Waiting for us are seven Justice League mbers, just as Bruce predicted:

Superman, his iconic red and blue costu unmistakable; Wonder Woman, regal and imposing in her Amazonian armor;

The Flash, vibrant in scarlet; Black Canary, poised and observant;

Green Arrow, his bow casually slung over his shoulder; Red Tornado, chanical yet sohow dignified; and Martian Manhunter, tall with green skin and calm deanor.

The presence of three founding League mbers - Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman himself - underscores the significance they're placing on this assessnt.

I feel a montary flutter of nervousness before regaining my composure.

"Batman," Superman greets with a slight nod. "And Samael Morningstar. Welco to Mount Justice."

"Thank you for agreeing to this assessnt," Superman states politely.

I calmly nod in response, appearing appreciative to his thanks.

"We've heard interesting things about your abilities," Wonder Woman says, her accent hinting at her ancient Greek origins. "Creating a transformation device at your age is quite remarkable."

"It's the practical application of theoretical principles," I explain modestly. "Quantum field manipulation combined with targeted genetic recombination."

The Flash's eyes light up with scientific curiosity. "I'd love to discuss the specifics later, if you're willing."

"Of course," I agree, noting Batman's subtle nod of approval at my cooperative tone.

Superman steps forward, his presence both reassuring and intimidating. "We've prepared a series of assessnts to understand your abilities better.

Nothing invasive, just basic demonstrations and so questions. Are you comfortable proceeding?"

"Yes," I confirm. "I understand the need for thorough evaluation."

"Excellent," Black Canary says. "We'll begin with so baseline dical scans, if that's acceptable."

The next hour consists of standard dical evaluations - heart rate, blood pressure, reflexes, and more advanced scans that likely map my genetic structure and energy patterns.

The League mbers are professional and respectful throughout, explaining each procedure before performing it.

I notice Green Arrow observing with particular interest, occasionally exchanging glances with Black Canary.

Their attention feels evaluative in a different way from the others - less focused on potential threats and more on potential recruitnt.

After the dical assessnt, we move to a specialized training room with reinforced walls and various monitoring equipnt.

"This is where we'd like to see a demonstration of your transformation," Superman explains. "The room is designed to contain various energy discharges and physical impacts."

I nod, moving to the center of the room. "I'll need so space."

They retreat to an observation area behind transparent barriers. Batman remains closest, watching intently as I roll up my sleeve to reveal the Ultimatrix.

I activate the device, cycling to Chromastone as I did during the Joker incident. The familiar surge of energy washes over as I transform, my body becoming crystalline, purple, and capable of absorbing vast amounts of energy.

Through the crystalline facets of my transford eyes, I see various instrunts recording data.

The Flash looks particularly fascinated, while Red Tornado remains impassive, likely collecting objective asurents.

Superman studies with x-ray vision, while Wonder Woman's expression suggests she's sensing sothing beyond the physical transformation.

"Remarkable," The Flash comnts. "The molecular structure appears completely altered, yet stable."

"Can you demonstrate the energy absorption capabilities?" Black Canary asks.

I nod, my crystalline form catching the light. "You'll need to provide an energy source."

Superman steps forward. "With your permission, I can provide a controlled burst of heat vision. Nothing that would harm a human, but enough to test your absorption capabilities."

"Proceed," I say, bracing myself.

Superman's eyes glow red, and twin beams of concentrated heat energy strike my chest. I absorb them completely, feeling the energy course through my crystalline body.

After a mont, I redirect it upward toward a reinforced section of the ceiling, where it dissipates harmlessly.

"Impressive control," Wonder Woman observes. "The energy conversion appears seamless."

Green Arrow whistles low. "That's one way to handle a hot situation."

After several more demonstrations with varying energy types and intensities, including a sonic blast from Black Canary that I absorb without difficulty, I transform back to human form.

The transition is smooth, leaving standing in the center of the room, completely unhard.

"That was impressive," Superman acknowledges. "The control you maintain during and after transformation is noteworthy."

"Thank you," I reply. "It's a matter of practice and understanding the underlying principles."

We return to the main chamber, where a more detailed discussion begins. The questions are thorough but fair: How did I develop the technology?

What inspired the design? How do I ensure safety during transformation? What are the limitations?

I answer each question with carefully crafted explanations that sound scientifically plausible while revealing nothing about the Ultimatrix's true nature or full capabilities.

The Flash occasionally asks more technical follow-ups, which I handle by providing enough genuine quantum theory to satisfy his curiosity without divulging critical details.

Green Arrow's questions focus more on practical applications. "Have you considered how this technology could be used in field situations? Search and rescue, disaster response, that sort of thing?"

"I've focused primarily on the scientific principles," I reply. "But yes, I've considered practical applications. The energy absorption capabilities would be particularly useful in containing hazardous energy discharges."

Wonder Woman studies with ancient eyes that seem to see more than the physical. "The transformation appears to be more than rely physical. There is an energy signature that changes as well. Is this intentional?"

A perceptive observation that requires careful handling. "The quantum field manipulation affects all aspects of molecular structure, including energy states," I explain. "The visible transformation is rely the most obvious manifestation of a more comprehensive change."

Finally, Martian Manhunter addresses the telepathic question directly. "With your permission, I would like to conduct a surface telepathic scan.

This is standard protocol for evaluating unknown technology and abilities. I would focus only on your intentions regarding the device, not your personal thoughts or mories."

I hesitate, appearing to consider the request carefully. "I understand the protocol, but I'm not familiar with telepathic contact. Could you explain exactly what I would experience?"

"A light ntal presence," he explains. "You would be aware of my consciousness touching yours, but I would not delve deeper than surface thoughts specifically related to the device and its use. You would maintain full awareness and control throughout."

I glance at Batman, who gives an almost imperceptible nod. "Very well," I agree. "I consent to a limited scan as you've described."

Chromastone should be sensetive to all forms of energies - ntal and otherwise for Dagon was unable to control him. I should be able to sense which thoughts he's seeing and even push him out if necessary.

Martian Manhunter approaches, his expression serene. "Please relax your mind. This will only take a mont."

I feel his presence imdiately - a gentle but distinct consciousness touching mine. I focus on my cover story: creating the Ultimatrix through scientific research, intending to use it responsibly, concerned about its potential in the wrong hands.

I carefully avoid any thoughts about my true origins or the device's full capabilities.

After what feels like minutes but is likely only seconds, the Martian withdraws. "Thank you for your cooperation," he says formally.

"Your intentions appear sincere and your concerns about the technology's security are appropriate."

I exhale slowly, making sure not show anything but standard nervousness of a teenager "Thank you for respecting my boundaries."

The more respectful I appear, the more they'll take a liking to .

It's being like Aizen 101.

Superman and Wonder Woman exchange a glance that suggests silent communication before Superman speaks. "We appreciate your openness during this assessnt, Samael.

Your abilities are significant, and the technology you've developed has considerable potential."

Batman steps forward. "Is there anything else required for the assessnt?"

The League mbers exchange glances before Wonder Woman speaks. "I believe we have what we need for now. Thank you for your cooperation, Samael."

Just as the formal assessnt appears to be concluding, the computerized voice announces new arrivals:

"Recognized: Robin, B01. Kid Flash, B03. Aqualad, B02. Miss Martian, B05. Superboy, B04."

Five teenagers enter the chamber, engaged in animated conversation that halts abruptly when they notice us.

They're in civilian clothes rather than costus, though their identities are still obvious to :

Robin (Dick Grayson), Kid Flash (Wally West), Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm), Miss Martian (M'gann M'orzz), and Superboy (Conner Kent).

"Oh, uh, sorry," Kid Flash says, clearly surprised. "Didn't know you guys had a eting going on."

"It's not a eting," Batman replies. "It's an assessnt. This is Samael Morningstar."

I notice Robin's slight reaction to my na - a barely perceptible widening of eyes behind his sunglasses.

He clearly recognizes as Bruce's ward but maintains the pretense of knowing about for the first ti.

"Hey," he says casually. "New ta?"

"Sothing like that," I reply with equal casualness.

Green Arrow steps forward, a friendly grin on his face. "Perfect timing, kids. We were just wrapping up the formal stuff.

Samael here can transform into a walking crystal that absorbs energy. Pretty cool, right?"

"Seriously?" Kid Flash zooms to my side with supernatural speed. "That's aweso! Can you show us?"

"Perhaps another ti," Batman interjects. "Samael has already completed a full demonstration."

Martian Manhunter addresses the green-skinned girl. "M'gann, this is fortuitous timing.

Perhaps you could show Samael around the facility while we discuss the assessnt results."

"Of course, Uncle J'onn," she replies cheerfully. "I'd be happy to."

The "coincidental" timing is obviously arranged, but I play along. This is clearly the introduction to the Young Justice team that Bruce ntioned might occur.

As the League mbers withdraw to another area with Batman, I'm left with the five teenage heroes. Kid Flash zooms around , examining from all angles.

"So, what's your deal? Super strength? Flight? Please tell you can't read minds too - we've got enough of that already," he says, gesturing toward Miss Martian.

"Wally!" she chides, looking embarrassed.

"I can transform," I explain simply. "My body becos crystalline, capable of absorbing and redirecting energy."

"Cool," Robin comnts. "Kind of like a living battery?"

"That's one way to put it," I acknowledge.

Aqualad steps forward, offering his hand. "I am Kaldur'ahm, though my friends call Kaldur. Welco to Mount Justice."

I shake his hand, noting the webbing between his fingers. "Thank you. It's an impressive facility."

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet!" Miss Martian says enthusiastically. "Let show you around. I'm M'gann, by the way.

M'gann M'orzz. But you can call gan - it's my Earth na."

Only Superboy remains aloof, studying with obvious suspicion. "How'd you get your powers?" he asks bluntly.

"I created them," I reply. "The device on my wrist enables my transformation through genetic manipulation."

This catches his interest, though he tries to hide it. I rember that in Young Justice lore, Superboy is a clone of Superman created by genetic manipulation.

"You built it yourself?" Robin asks, sounding impressed.

"Yes. It's based on quantum field theory and genetic recombination principles."

Kid Flash's eyes light up. "No way! I'm into science too. Mostly chemistry and physics, but that sounds fascinating."

The tour begins with M'gann leading the way, enthusiastically pointing out various features of the mountain base.

The others join us, with Robin occasionally adding comntary that suggests he knows more about the facility than he should as a supposed junior mber.

"And this is the kitchen and living area," M'gann announces as we enter a surprisingly hoy space. "We spend a lot of ti here when we're not training."

"Or on missions," Kid Flash adds, then looks alard. "I an, hypothetical missions. For training purposes."

Robin elbows him subtly.

"It's impressive how well you've integrated advanced technology with comfortable living space," I observe, changing the subject to spare them the awkwardness.

"It's ho," Superboy says simply, the first non-confrontational thing he's said since arriving.

As the tour continues, I notice the team dynamics erging naturally. Kaldur is clearly the leader, calm and asured.

Robin is the strategist, observant and analytical. Kid Flash provides energy and scientific knowledge.

M'gann is the heart of the team, empathetic and supportive. Superboy is the powerhouse, still finding his place.

They function well together despite their differences - a team still forming but with solid foundations.

I can see why the League might think I'd fit in with them: another teenager with unusual abilities, navigating the complexities of power and responsibility.

After the tour, we return to the main chamber where the League mbers are waiting. Batman approaches, his expression neutral.

"The assessnt is complete," he announces. "We'll be returning to Gotham now."

"Already?" Kid Flash protests. "But we just started showing him around!"

"There will be other opportunities," Batman says, in a tone that suggests he's already decided sothing.

As we prepare to leave, Superman steps forward, his imposing presence softened by a genuine smile. "Samael, the League is impressed with your control and understanding of your abilities. We'd like to offer you the opportunity for further training and developnt."

"What kind of training?" I ask, though I already suspect the answer.

Wonder Woman gestures to the five teenagers. "This team works with League ntors to develop their abilities in a supportive environnt. Given your age and potential, we believe you might benefit from similar guidance."

Green Arrow adds with a casual grin, "Plus, hanging out with other kids who get the whole 'special abilities' thing can be a lot more fun than going it alone. Trust on that."

"You're inviting to join their team?" I clarify.

"We're offering you the opportunity to train with them," Black Canary corrects carefully.

"Team mbership would be a discussion for later, after you've had ti to consider whether this environnt suits your needs."

I glance at Batman, who gives a slight nod, then at the team mbers. Their reactions vary: Robin looks intrigued, Kid Flash excited, Aqualad thoughtful, M'gann hopeful, and Superboy guarded but not hostile.

"I appreciate the offer," I say. "I'd like so ti to consider it."

"Of course," Superman agrees. "This is not a decision to be made lightly."

As Batman and I depart, I hear the team already discussing behind us:

"Did you see his eyes? And that white hair?" Kid Flash whispers not-so-subtly.

"Wally!" M'gann scolds again.

"What? It looks cool!"

Their voices fade as we exit the mountain. The sun is bright outside, a stark contrast to the cave's interior.

"Your thoughts?" Batman asks as we walk to the car.

"They seem... competent," I reply carefully. "And the facility is impressive."

"The team provides valuable experience and support for young ta-humans," he says. "The training would help you develop your abilities in a controlled environnt."

I nod, considering. "And keep under League supervision."

"That too," he acknowledges without apology. "Power requires responsibility. The team structure provides accountability while allowing for growth."

We reach the car and begin the journey back to Gotham. I spend much of the drive contemplating the assessnt and its implications.

The Justice League now has baseline data on one of my transformations and believes they understand the general principles behind the Ultimatrix.

They've introduced to their junior team in a clear invitation to consider training with them.

From their perspective, they're offering guidance and community to a gifted but potentially troubled teenager with dangerous abilities.

From my perspective, they're offering resources, training, and connections that could prove invaluable.

The question is whether the benefits outweigh the increased scrutiny that would co with team involvent.

Batman already watches closely, but joining Young Justice would an regular interaction with other League mbers and a team of perceptive young heroes - including a Martian telepath.

Yet it also ans access to advanced technology, training facilities, and mission experience that could accelerate my developnt. Not to ntion potential allies who might prove useful in the future.

As we pass through a small town, a familiar aroma wafts through the car window. My stomach growls audibly.

"Hungry?" Batman asks.

"Sohow, yes," I admit, embarrassed by my body's reaction to the sll of chili fries from a roadside diner.

To my surprise, Batman pulls into the parking lot without comnt. Minutes later, I'm devouring a large order of chili fries with inexplicable enthusiasm while he sips coffee and watches with what might be amusent behind his carefully neutral expression.

"These are surprisingly good," I say between bites, trying to maintain so dignity.

"Everyone has their preferences," he replies diplomatically.

As I finish the last fry, I realize I've just devoured enough food for two people in record ti. "I apologize for the detour."

"No need," he says. "Sotis small indulgences are necessary."

We resu our journey, and I find myself contemplating both the Justice League's offer and my strange new addiction to chili fries. Both unexpected developnts that require adaptation.

By the ti we reach Wayne Manor, I've reached a tentative decision. The Young Justice team represents an opportunity too valuable to dismiss.

The increased scrutiny is a risk, but one that can be managed with careful planning and disciplined behavior.

"I'd like to accept the training offer," I tell Bruce as Alfred greets us at the door. "The resources and experience would be valuable."

Bruce nods, unsurprised. "I'll inform the League. They'll arrange a schedule that accommodates your schooling and research at GSI."

"Thank you," I say, and I an it. Despite the complex motives behind the offer, it represents a significant opportunity.

"Of course," he replies. Then, with the faintest hint of a smile, he adds, "I'll also make sure Alfred stocks the kitchen with chili fries."

Alfred's eyebrow rises fractionally. "Chili... fries, sir?"

"It seems Samael has developed quite an appreciation for them," Bruce explains.

"I see," Alfred says, in a tone that suggests he doesn't see at all but will accommodate this peculiar preference nonetheless. "I shall make the appropriate arrangents."

As I head to my room and lay down on my bed to go to sleep, closing my eyes as darkness slowly takes , I find myself to feel pleased.

Yes, oddly enough, despite the complex situation I'm beginning to feel...

Happy.

----------------------------

(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Do tell how you found it!

Chromastone is really a good choice I have begun to think as I was writing this chapter.

At first it was because of his versatile abilities of energy absorption, and flight and the like, but as I thought about whether having Samael refuse Martian Manhunter's ntal scan, I rembered Dagon and thought, well, that is reasonable.

So here we are.

Also, how did you all find the Chili Fries addiction? I believe it brings a more codic elent to this otherwise very serious Samael - well, again, until he's extrely stressed.

So yeah, do tell how you found it and I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)