Life: 5. Insert Pink Panther Theme Music (Patreon)

Chapter 5: Insert Pink Panther Theme Music

Rigal Phenex
Gotham, NJ, USA

I flamed back to the Roost. Joseph Powers fancied himself a more “modern” Owl, someone who could advance the Court with the times. He was a sleazy piece of shit, but he was a reasonable one. If nothing else, having him keep an eye out for relics for me should prove beneficial in the future.

I enjoyed a dinner of chicken adobo, courtesy of Max’s chef, Sarah. My new mooks could cook well, but they lacked her versatility. My phone rang as I finished dinner, a number I did not recognize.

“Hello? Rigal Phenex speaking.”

“Excellent, I have the right man,” came a smooth, masculine voice. Odd, I didn’t make a habit of giving out this number. “I hear you are open to taking requests. Are you interested in mercenary work? I assure you that our resources are extensive and our compensation generous.”

“Hoh? A job offer? Interesting.” I leaned back in my chair. “Let’s hear it then.”

“A reliable source told me that the Justice League will be transporting certain packages to STAR Labs in Boston and New York. We would like for you to recover those packages.”

That had me checking the date. What he said sounded familiar. It was the last day of July so the brat brigade must have already gone to Santa Prisca and met Bane. That meant Aqualad had taken the reins as leader and the Light now had samples of both Venom and the Blockbuster formula, as well as their combined variant.

The next big event should be… “Tell me, where are they leaving from?”

“Litchfield, Connecticut. Further details, such as the path they are traveling, will be provided to you should you accept our commission.”

That cinched it. It was Amazo, Professor Ivo’s prized robot. Which meant that this person was almost certainly working for the Light. They likely wanted to see if I would accept the job. And if I did, they’d see the limits of my powers against heroes. As always, it was a test on multiple levels.

I continued to play dumb. “I’m afraid my schedule is rather full in the next few days.”

“Pity. The packages are scheduled to leave Litchfield on August third.”

“I see. Would this be a good number to reach you? It is unlikely that I will accept, but I may yet change my mind.”

“As you will then. Evening, marquis.”

“Likewise.”

I set the phone down with a contemplative hum. A part of me did want to accept, if only to put the team through their paces. It wouldn’t be a bad way to introduce Max to Connor either. Sure, they’d fight and Connor would probably go apeshit from his inferiority complex, but getting it out of his system early wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Not to mention, this event would be the first showing of Artemis Crock, one of my favorite characters. She had no powers, and she might be a bit too heroic to fit in with my current operations, but I was genuinely considering offering her a place in my peerage.

Then again, interfering here would mean helping the Light. And this mission was important to Connor’s development. It would represent the first time he truly began to shake off the legacy of Superman, and began to build his own. He would, quite literally, destroy the image of Superman with his own hands. It was a meaningless gesture perhaps, but one that meant a great deal to him.

Max looked at me closely. He’d undoubtedly heard the full conversation with his enhanced hearing. “Okay, you know who that was. Spill. And what’s the package?”

“Amazo,” I replied. “Professor Ivo’s android. Either the heroes beat it already or a secret organization will arrange for that encounter in a day or two. It can copy any hero’s power, though only one hero at a time. Because of that, it’s actually harder for multiple heroes to face it at once. A single hero must beat his mirror match while a team needs to deal with an opponent that knows all their moves.”

“Tricky. You turned that guy down though. I’m guessing it’s because of this secret organization you’ve been telling me about?” he asked rhetorically.

“Partially. They’re called the Light, a group of human supremacists who want to turn humanity into an intergalactic empire. They also like to use idiotic light-related puns like how ‘The world will… see the light,’ and shit like that.”

“Sounds stupid.”

“My thoughts exactly. They’re dangerous though. The six core members are some of the most powerful people on the planet.”

“You know who they are already.”

“I do.”

“So why not just go bash their heads in?”

“I could, at least with most of them. It’s the Witchboy I’m wary of. He’s a Lord of Chaos, and someone who’d probably be a match for Sirzechs Lucifer back in his prime.”

“See, you’re saying names and I have no idea what they mean.”

“They’re a big deal. Like, strong enough to kick my ass. To put it into perspective, the Witchboy was the one who sank Atlantis, way back before most of humanity had written history.”

“Huh...”

“Yup. He’s basically an eldritch horror pretending to be a teenage boy. He represents primordial, capital “C” Chaos like how Dr. Fate in the Justice League represents primordial Order.”

“I know that’s a big deal but I don’t really have the frame of reference to understand why that’s a big deal.”

“For starters, he can’t die. He can only be banished from the mortal plane, and even then, only temporarily. He’ll just come back with a grudge.”

“So kinda like you?”

“I can die, most things just aren’t strong enough to pull it off,” I huffed. “So no, not like me. He’s also had millennia to master esoteric magics. You’ll notice I’ve never said his name, only called him the Witchboy.”

“Huh. Now that you mention it, why not?”

“I’m worried he has a way to tell when someone says his name.”

“That sounds like bullshit paranoia.”

“When it comes to a Lord of Chaos? No, it’s really not. You’ll just have to trust me on that one. The Witchboy is bad news.”

“So no fighting the Light.”

“Not quite. He doesn’t mind people opposing the Light. Hell, he even likes it when the heroes win sometimes because it keeps things interesting. The whole thing is more or less for his own amusement anyway. He just doesn’t want anyone spoiling his fun, which means no killing off the actors before they can step onto the stage. That’s what’s keeping me from just teleporting to individual Light members and assassinating the lot of them.”

“Okay, so you want to stay out of this Amazo business?”

I shrugged. “I’m a collector, but I admit Amazo doesn’t hold my interest.”

“Is it because you can’t resurrect a machine?” Max asked, face carefully neutral.

“That’s not it. The evil pieces can turn artificial creations for sure. It’s been done before. Strictly speaking, you’re an artificial creation. There isn’t some arbitrary distinction between organic and inorganic creatures where the pieces are concerned.”

“So why not take Amazo for yourself?”

“Because it’s a pathetic knockoff,” I scoffed. This iteration of Amazo was one of the weakest in the DC multiverse. Superboy defeated it when it phased back to full density directly over his arm. Two objects occupied the same space, and as usual, kryptonian physiology won out over the machine.

“Yeah? How am I different then? How am I not a knockoff?”

“Sorry, I can see why you might take that the wrong way. How do I put this? Amazo is incapable of growing meaningfully. Tell me, Max, are you the same person you were when I found you?”

“I… Yes?”

“I don’t think so. You’ve experienced so much, haven’t you? You’ve eaten delicious food, learned to fight and fly, even made friends with a few of your clients. You’ve saved lives and taken them as well. Are you really the same man you were when I found you in that pod?”

“No, I guess not,” he said, looking down at his hands contemplatively. “Then Amazo–”

“Can’t grow. He lacks a soul, both literally and figuratively. He’s a pathetic knockoff of the Justice League, not because he is weak, though I think that as well, but because I don’t see him developing a sense of personhood, an identity that isn’t spoonfed to him by Professor Ivo.” I told him about how Amazo would lose to Connor and the team. “Really, I doubt the real Martian Manhunter would ever make such a rookie mistake. Even if he did, Manhunter would regrow his own fucking head.”

“But you said you admire heroes. Why not get a peerage member with all their powers? Even one at a time, even as just a robot, that’s pretty cool, right?”

I laughed. “Do I look like I’m lacking power to you, Max? Heroes aren’t great because of their powers. Heroes are great because of their character. It’s the determination and resolve that I admire, not their powers. I’m not my father and I never will be, same family magic or not. You are not Superman and never will be, same powers or not. In the same way, Amazo can’t replace the League in my book and is unworthy of my peerage.”

“A man is defined by his character, huh?”

“Exactly. That tin can could have every Longinus and I’d still consider it unworthy. That said, if you want to show off for your little brother, I won’t stop you.”

He looked up in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah. Do you want to meet Superboy? You won’t even have to go far. If we do nothing, Professor Ivo will end up dragging the team to Gotham. They’ll have their big showdown at the gymnasium in Gotham Academy.”

“You really don’t mind if I show up to that?”

“It’s up to you. This isn’t an order from your king. This is me saying you should do what you feel is right.”

“Hmm… I’ll have to think about it but I might just hold down the fort,” he said. “Superboy, Connor, he’s my little brother in a way, but he’s… incomplete? Not because he’s half human, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“He hasn’t come into his own yet.”

“Exactly! I guess… I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to meet him.”

“As you wish.”

“Wait, you’re not going to the Amazo thing so what will you be doing?”

“I think it’ll be the right time for a scouting mission of my own,” I replied. “Do you remember what I said about the Amulet of Aten?”

“That thing that the League recovered the day you found me?” he asked. “Some guy named Wotan wanted to use it to blot out the sun.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I think I have an idea of where it is. Now that we’ve gotten settled, I’d like to see if I can go recover it.”

“You don’t want me to come along?”

“No offense, Max, but magic really isn’t your thing. Besides, this is mostly a scouting mission to see what I’m up against.”

“Fair enough. Don’t do anything stupid, Rigal.”

“Love you too, little brother.”

“Get bent.”

X

New York, NY, USA

Three days later, it was time. By my reckoning, the Justice League should try to move Amazo soon. While the brat brigade delivered the android parts to STAR Labs, the League would be off making themselves visible to present red herrings for any onlookers. There was also some genuine fear of exposing Amazo to all the League’s powers should it somehow come back online mid-transport.

Or maybe, that was just what they told the kids.

For all I knew, Batman suspected a secret conspiracy even as early as August. Maybe he even figured out that Professor Ivo hadn’t died and had merely faked his death. In which case, he was using the kids as a way to draw out Ivo and gain a bit more information on his shadowy opponents. I wouldn’t put it past him. Powers be damned, there was a reason he was the most respected detective in the world.

In the end, the exact reasons didn’t matter. I just needed to keep tabs on the League for a day while I scoped out one of their homes. More specifically, Shadowcrest Manor.

I deemed that place, the ancestral home of Giovanni Zatara, to be the most likely location of the Amulet of Aten. Considering that Zatara was the one who defeated Wotan for it, and the only other magical expert in the League at this time was Dr. Fate, it seemed like a reasonable guess. The other most likely option was the Tower of Fate and I really hoped that wasn’t the case.

I’d waited a month for this day, for the heat to die down and for the League to turn their attention elsewhere. As for why I wanted the amulet, it was admittedly a hunch.

Ruval Phenex, my lord father, was capable of wielding something he called the Seven Color Flame. It was absolute bullshit, “hellfire beyond hellfire,” as he called it. During the great war against Khaos Brigade, he used it to hold his own against Typhon, the Greek King of Monsters who once waged war on all of Olympus, and Vidar, the third son of Odin. So hot was his flame that he managed to seriously injure a dragon often compared favorably against Zeus.

Pops told me that this unique flame was only possible because he’d had help. He combined our clan trait with the fires of the sacred phoenix, not to be confused with our clan, and the divine aura of the Bennu, our Egyptian equivalent. In other words, the big clue was that it was a mix of holy and demonic energy.

I didn’t know if the Amulet of Aten was truly divine in origin. The name implied such, but grandiose names were par for the course when it came to magical artifacts. Aten was the Sun Disc of Egyptian mythology, both the god and the object.

If there was even a small chance that this amulet held a portion of the sun god’s power, I wanted it. I knew there was no way in hell I’d be able to mix holy and demonic energy as weak as I was now, but it would be a hell of a goal to strive for, proof positive that I’d finally entered the ultimate class.

And, if I was being honest with myself, I was a greedy man. Magical artifacts were one half of the reason I came to this world in the first place, the other being to grow my peerage. Having heard about the amulet, I couldn’t help but want to know more.

“So, like a moth to the flame, I fly,” I muttered.

I was standing atop the Empire State Building, overlooking downtown New York. According to his website, Giovanni Zatara, the world famous stage magician, was a very private individual. He lived a quiet life in New York City with his beloved daughter and assistant, Zatanna. In the comics, Shadowcrest Manor was a place that changed location at will, but seeing how I had no other leads, New York was as good a starting point as any.

I closed my eyes and opened my senses to the world. Shadowcrest was one of the foremost magical places in the DC setting, right alongside the Tower of Fate and the House of Mystery. In my old world, it would be the equivalent of the headquarters of the Golden Dawn or some other major mage association. Such a heavy concentration of magic was nearly impossible to hide.

Sure enough, finding it didn’t take long. The local ley lines curved, as if drawn to a central location. They flowed like a river to the outskirts of the city. I had a feeling that the manor would stand wherever these ley lines intersected.

X

Shadowcrest was… daunting. Now that I was looking up at the manor, it looked so much bigger than it was. It stood at the outskirts of the city, surrounded by a copse of trees that towered over me, casting long shadows that threatened to snuff out my fire.

The architecture was what I’d expected, an eclectic mix that was primarily gothic yet had been added to over the generations. Had I asked Giovanni Zatara, I didn’t doubt that he could point out each individual addition and tell me which of his forefathers built it and for what purpose. There was history here, something greater than any individual Zatara. 

As impressive as the aesthetics were, it was the magic that truly took my breath away. No less than three powerful ley lines converged to fuel the manor’s many enchantments. The air hummed and crackled with ambient magic, like a storm only barely contained. Just standing next to it set my hair on edge. As for the wards, they were ungodly powerful. I doubted even pops would have an easy time assaulting this place.

Off the cuff, I spotted wards that improved the durability of the manor’s structural materials, others that created something akin to a force field, and still others that absorbed the mana of incoming attacks to fuel back into repairing said force field.

An entire layer of wards were dedicated to automatically retaliating against enemies. Those weren’t active as there were no enemies at present, but I could tell that even a single one would knock the average high class devil out of commission. 

In short, Shadowcrest Manor was a fortress, one built over generations by a family of archmages. It was the single most well-warded place I’d ever personally visited outside of the homes of the Pillar houses, and I’d been inside the Grauzauberer headquarters.

Luckily for me, I had no interest in trying to assault the place. I was greedy, not suicidal.

“Sneaky sneak it is, Rigal,” I muttered under my breath.

I had some understanding of shadow magic thanks to that Harnessing the Shadows book. The element didn’t come easily to me, but I did learn a basic spell to make myself blend into the shadows. Along with my magical control, I hoped I could suppress my presence enough to breach at least the first layer of wards.

This was a scouting mission. I knew I couldn’t hope to make a serious attempt on the manor yet, but I wanted to take stock of the wards here at the bare minimum while Zatara was out. If I could gain a detailed matrix of the wards and a layout of the manor, I’d consider my mission a resounding success.

So, heart thumping in my chest, I began to scale the walls. No wings, nothing that might leave a residual mana signature at all if I could help it.

“I am a gnat. I am a fly. I am not worthy of notice. Please ignore this insignificant chicken,” I prayed to the almighty wards. The mana of the ley lines loomed over me like a lightning cloud but I proceeded onwards.

It was going amazingly well. I landed on the other side of the wall, behind a gnarled tree that had a swing dangling from its branches. The back garden was beautiful, with exotic flowers that could only be cultivated in New York with magical help. The aroma of these blooms only added to the eerie, mystical ambiance.

And then, as if the manor was alive and decided to personally ruin my day, my little infiltration mission went catastrophically wrong.

I wasn’t even sure what triggered the trap. I’d made sure to remain out of sight of any windows. My magic was still suppressed. One moment, I was humming the Pink Panther theme song under my breath as I dashed from tree to tree like a fucking ninja.

Next, I was trapped in some kind of magical cage, like a canary in a pet store. The bars were a resplendent gold. They were made of a form of condensed energy that wasn’t quite solid. Yet, when I gave the mission up as a bad job and stopped restricting my own mana, I felt it all slip, drained away from my grasp. It was all being sucked away, siphoned into the ley lines to power the manor’s many magical defenses.

“Aha! An intruder!” someone shouted. The voice was distinctly feminine and I remembered that Giovanni Zatara did not live here alone. “Turn around slowly! I know how to use the wards, demon!”

Heart leaping to my throat, I complied. If Zatanna decided to smite me, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I’d regenerate, but getting smacked around by three ley lines worth of anti-intruder wards wasn’t my idea of a good time.

And there she stood, in a purple tank top and sweatpants, clearly dressed down for the evening. She even had a set of fuzzy, pink bunny slippers that made her look positively adorable. Long, raven tresses cascaded down her shoulder, framing a flawless face that some angels might envy. Pouty lips, button nose, sapphire-blue eyes, she was positively breathtaking.

She was also channeling a ridiculous amount of mana. Most of it wasn’t hers, but there was no question she could make my life quite unpleasant if I didn’t act fast.

Yet, I was trapped. I could try to overwhelm the prison with all my magical power. I might even succeed, but it’d most certainly set off the rest of the wards around this manor.

Or, I could blow myself up right in front of her. I could ignite a charge within my own body and turn myself into chunky salsa. That would probably get her to lose her focus. There was a good chance that the prison would disperse, failing to contain something that wasn’t alive anymore, however briefly.

But that would leave a rather poor impression. Probably traumatizing, even. In the end, I liked Zatanna. Like Max, she’d always been a primary peerage candidate. I really didn’t want to be her nemesis or whatever.

So, I said the first thing that came to mind. “Wow, you have gorgeous eyes.”

Author’s Note

Rigal is fairly intelligent, but he’s also not all that bright where his vices are concerned. He knows for a fact that the Amulet of Aten exists, and so he wants it, even if trying to breach Shadowcrest Manor is an objectively stupid thing to do.

That said, Rigal’s understanding of the situation is that his life is not in any true danger so long as he doesn’t do anything monumentally stupid. The Zataras are heroes. They’re the good guys. The odds of them smiting him with something beyond his ability to regenerate are relatively minor.

If it wasn’t obvious, I really wanted to introduce Zatanna earlier than in canon.