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The Black Witch! Ch 11
🕑 Added 2025-11-07 09:31:07 +0000 UTCChapter 11:
– Kara –
Kara scowled down at the greasy burger in her hands. She had already taken three large, angry bites from it, yet she hardly tasted a thing. Right now, eating was little more than an irritated distraction from the heavy atmosphere that lingered over their crowded booth at Big Belly Burger.
It wasn’t exactly where she’d expected they would end up when they’d gone looking for Amara this morning.
Still, here they sat, squished uncomfortably into one side of a booth that clearly hadn’t been designed to fit three adult-sized superheroes.
Kara was wedged awkwardly in the middle, her slim hips pressed snugly against Nightwing—Dick, as he insisted they call him out of costume—on her right, and Raven—Rachel—on her left. Neither of them seemed comfortable with the arrangement, but nobody had wanted to move to sit beside Amara, the stunningly gorgeous but decidedly dangerous witch sitting alone on the opposite side of the table.
The silence had grown tense after Amara finally finished telling them her story. She’d shared everything—from the curse that had rendered her hideous and powerless for eighteen long, painful years, to the cruel abandonment she’d suffered at the hands of her birth parents. Kara hadn’t been sure what she’d expected to hear from the villainess who had caused so much death and destruction already, but it certainly wasn’t a story like that.
She couldn’t help feeling deeply troubled by everything Amara had gone through.
Kara swallowed another overly large bite of her burger, chewing aggressively as she studied Amara across the table. The dark-haired girl was undeniably gorgeous. Kara felt a small blush forming on her cheeks as she admitted it silently to herself again. Even just sitting there in a simple black tank top and short denim shorts, casually swirling a fry through a puddle of ketchup with distracted disinterest, Amara somehow managed to radiate a dangerously seductive aura. Her black hair cascaded loosely around her shoulders, framing strikingly vivid emerald-green eyes that seemed to pierce straight through anyone she glanced at. Her perfectly shaped lips pouted slightly as she gazed at the table, lost in her own gloomy thoughts.
Damn it, Kara thought to herself irritably, why were so many female villains so freaking sexy?
Was there some kind of evil villain dress code that required looking distractingly gorgeous? It was annoyingly unfair and incredibly distracting. And as much as Kara hated admitting it to herself, Amara was among the sexiest, most captivating girls she had ever encountered on Earth, villain or not.
Every time Kara glanced at her, she felt her heart give a small, frustrating flutter inside her chest, despite her best attempts to suppress it.
Dick’s voice suddenly broke the silence, snapping Kara out of her irritated internal monologue.
“That’s... quite a story, Amara,” Dick finally admitted slowly, his tone carefully neutral. His voice sounded slightly strained, and Kara glanced sideways to see his handsome face looking conflicted. “I had no idea your childhood was so... challenging. I’m sorry… but that doesn’t change what you’ve done already and where you are headed if you stay on this dark path.”
Amara raised her head slightly, fixing him with an unreadable expression. Her vivid green eyes seemed to glow faintly in the diner’s bright fluorescent lighting. She tilted her head slightly to the side, causing a lock of silky black hair to fall softly across one perfectly sculpted cheekbone.
“I’m not asking for sympathy, Dick,” Amara said calmly, her voice steady and smooth. There was a faint hint of bitter sarcasm in her tone. “You all wanted me to talk. So I talked…”
Dick shifted awkwardly beside Kara, clearly uncertain of how to respond to the obvious disdain in Amara’s voice. “It’s not about sympathy,” he finally said. “It’s just… I understand you’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t justify everything you’ve done. You and Morgana killed dozens of people yesterday.”
Kara watched Amara’s eyes narrow slightly at Dick’s words, her perfect lips curving into a faintly irritated frown. She set the fry down, folding her hands together on the table.
“I never asked you to justify or forgive my actions, Dick,” Amara told him sharply, though she still kept her voice deceptively calm. “MACUSA was prepared to commit genocide, and they were working with one of my—personal enemies. I won’t pretend to regret destroying them.” Her tone shifted slightly, a bitter, sarcastic edge returning. “But feel free to hate me if it makes you feel morally superior.”
Kara felt Rachel stir slightly on her other side.
“Amara,” Rachel’s quiet voice interjected carefully, “no one here is trying to attack you. We’re trying to understand you better. We all understand your past now, but it’s clear there’s something else upsetting you, not just that letter from your deadbeat mother.”
Amara’s vivid eyes flickered briefly toward Rachel, her expression softening a fraction. “...Well, that’s good to know. But I don’t want to talk about the other thing that’s upsetting me right now,” Amara admitted to Rachel.
“That’s…perfectly fine. All of us have painful secrets that we don’t want other people to find out about. Maybe we can just talk about something else then. Why don’t you tell us about this secret magical world in Europe? I’m surprised I’ve never heard of the possibility that millions of wizards and witches existed in this world.”
“It’s shocking for me to hear as well,” Dick admitted. “Batman’s definitely never brought it up with me.
Kara imagined the shocked expressions on the dark knight’s face when he found out about all the magical people secretly hiding in this world. She wondered if her cousin knew due to his super senses but never bothered bringing it up with the rest of the league…?
– Amara –
I stood up slowly from the booth, stretching out the stiffness in my legs after sitting cramped up for so long. I had just opened my mouth to give some vague excuse about needing to head home when Kara’s voice unexpectedly cut through the awkward silence, interrupting me before I could leave.
“Wait!” Kara called out quickly, her bright blue eyes suddenly shining with genuine enthusiasm. She leaned forward eagerly across the slightly sticky diner table. “Why don’t we all go do something fun instead? You know, something completely unrelated to hero or villain stuff for a change.” A playful grin appeared on her pretty face, making her look younger and infinitely more carefree. “Just us sexy young adults hanging out, blowing off steam, and getting up to whatever kind of crazy stuff passes for fun in this weird city!”
I paused mid-step, momentarily caught off guard by her suggestion. Truthfully, that actually sounded… kind of nice. I certainly hadn’t expected to spend my afternoon doing something so simple, mundane, and ordinary after what I’d done earlier today in Lucifer’s nightclub. Maybe this was exactly what I needed to distract myself from everything weighing heavily on my conscience.
Slowly, I turned around to face Kara directly again. A small, tentative smile formed on my lips as I gave a faint shrug.
Dick immediately perked up beside Kara, a broad grin spreading across his handsome face. “Hey, I’ve got an idea!” he suggested enthusiastically. “Let’s head to Gotham Lanes. It’s a pretty decent bowling alley. Great for a little friendly competition, and it’ll definitely help us all unwind.”
I tilted my head curiously, feeling slightly embarrassed as I admitted, “Actually, I’ve never gone bowling before in my life.”
…
The bowling alley was noisy and brightly lit, the scent of greasy food and the faint odor of rental shoes lingering in the air. I stared down doubtfully at the heavy bowling ball in my hands, then turned to look at the slick wooden lanes in front of us. I felt genuinely uncertain about what I was supposed to do next.
Dick noticed my hesitant expression and moved toward me. “Here, let me help,” he offered warmly, positioning himself closely behind me. Without warning, he stepped right up against me, his muscular chest pressing lightly against my back. His arms reached forward, gently guiding my hands to hold the bowling ball properly.
I sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by the sudden intimacy of his closeness. His masculine scent washed over me, distracting me even further as he murmured instructions softly in my ear. “Just relax your shoulders, Amara. Keep your stance balanced, your knees slightly bent. When you’re ready, swing your arm back gently and then smoothly roll the ball down the lane.”
I could barely focus on his words, acutely aware of his warm breath tickling my skin, and his firm body pressed snugly against me from behind.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to concentrate, following his advice carefully. My first bowling attempt wasn’t exactly graceful, but to my astonishment, I actually managed to knock down most of the pins.
Dick chuckled softly behind me, clearly pleased. “Hey, not bad at all for your first time,” he praised warmly, giving my waist a gentle, playful squeeze before stepping back.
…
Next, we found ourselves at Gotham’s downtown cinema. Rachel had shyly insisted we see a new horror film that had just been released, and none of us objected. As we settled into our comfortable theater seats, Rachel casually slid into the chair directly beside me. The lights slowly dimmed around us, plunging us into near darkness as the film began.
Just as the opening scene started, I felt a slender, warm hand suddenly slip gently into my own. I looked down in surprise, realizing it was Rachel’s hand clasping mine lightly but firmly. I glanced toward her, and with my night vision as a demoness I could see the blush on her normally very pale cheeks.
Neither of us said anything else as we heard Dick and Kara both gasp as one of the characters on screen got murdered.
…
Finally, we ended up at a popular nightclub—a different one than the place Maze had dragged me to before. I didn’t want any memories having to do with her right now…
It was loud, crowded, and vibrantly energetic, packed with people dancing enthusiastically beneath flashing neon lights. To my surprise, Kara immediately took the lead, guiding us through the throng of people directly to the center of the dance floor.
I'd never pegged Kara as the wild, party-girl type. But here, under the dizzying swirl of neon club lights, surrounded by pulsing bass and sweaty bodies, she was like a completely different person, replaced by this sexy, playful blonde who seemed determined to let loose without reservation.
Kara had thrown back at least half a dozen brightly-colored shots before we'd even hit the dance floor, and her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink—although I didn’t know how long booze would last in her Kryptonian system.
She reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me close against her as she moved. Her dancing was carefree and wild, a fluid mix of bouncing steps and bold, teasing grinds against my body. Every so often, her hips or breasts would brush against me provocatively, as if entirely by accident, but the mischievous smirk on her full, pink lips told me otherwise.
Then suddenly, Kara leaned forward, pressing her warm body snugly against mine. Her soft lips brushed teasingly against the sensitive skin near my ear, making me shiver slightly at the contact.
"Don't think I didn't notice how close you and Dick were getting at the bowling alley earlier," she whispered. She tilted her head slightly, blonde hair tickling against my cheek as she continued teasing me. "Or how you and Rachel were basically glued together, holding hands through the entire horror movie."
She pulled back slightly, still close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her flushed skin.
Damn, her body was incredibly warm. I wondered if that was also a Kryptonian thing.
A smug, knowing smirk curved her lips upward as she stared at my slightly startled expression.
Before I could reply myself, Kara gave another playful laugh and stepped back, moving fluidly to the rhythm of the music once again. I blinked, trying to clear the startled surprise from my face, my heart suddenly hammering a bit faster in my chest.
My mind raced through the entire day—bowling with Dick pressing intimately behind me, Rachel gently slipping her hand into mine in the dimly lit theater, and now Kara grinding her body seductively against mine beneath the pulsing lights.
A sudden, bewildering realization struck me, leaving me both astonished and slightly embarrassed that I was just figuring this shit out right now.
Had I unknowingly ended up going on three mini dates today?
Feeling suddenly curious, I glanced over toward the far side of the club, towards Dick and Rachel. They were sitting at a booth against the wall, but even at this distance I could clearly make out the slight jealous frowns etched onto their faces as they watched me dance so closely with Kara.
Rachel’s usually calm, composed expression was replaced by an almost visible sulk, her lips pursed together in mild irritation. Dick, meanwhile, had folded his arms across his muscular chest, and though he tried to appear indifferent, the tight set of his jaw and narrowed eyes made it obvious he wasn’t exactly thrilled by Kara’s shameless dancing either.
I couldn’t help but giggle softly, shaking my head slightly as I watched their reactions. Their jealousy was undeniably adorable.
Still grinning, I turned my full attention back to the gorgeous blonde currently swaying and bouncing enthusiastically in front of me. Kara seemed entirely oblivious—or perhaps just completely unconcerned—with the jealous stares coming from our mutual friends.
I felt a surge of playful confidence fill me. Deciding to tease Kara back, I boldly reached forward with both hands, firmly grabbing her toned, perfectly-shaped ass. I squeezed slightly, pulling her hips even closer toward mine until there was hardly any distance left between us at all.
Kara let out a surprised, delighted little giggle at my unexpected move. Her bright eyes widened slightly, and a pleased, excited flush spread across her cheeks as she pressed even tighter against my body.
“Well, well,” Kara laughed breathlessly into my ear again, her lips brushing teasingly against my sensitive skin. “Someone’s feeling bold, huh? Oh no, the evil villainess has me in her clutches, whatever will I do…?” she trailed off playfully.
You have gained the Perk [Forbidden Darkness!] You are destined to live in the dark, and like the void itself you draw in all light around you. Those with hearts full of justice, those who live in the light will find themselves inexplicably drawn to you. They will find themselves hesitant to attack you. But only hesitating, if you cross their bottom lines this perk will not save you…
…
I sat back in the crowded nightclub booth, feeling my skin prickle slightly from the lingering heat in the air. Sweat glistened faintly along my collarbone and the base of my neck, making the thin fabric of my black tank top cling uncomfortably against my skin. I reached up absently and ran a hand through my black hair, trying to get a bit of cool air to touch my overheated scalp.
Dick, Rachel, and Kara sat across from me, each with a different expression of contentment on their faces. We'd been here for a couple of hours already, and though none of us were outright drunk, we had definitely reached the point where everything felt warm and pleasantly fuzzy around the edges.
Dick leaned back casually, sipping on his cocktail slowly with a relaxed smile, his muscular arm resting easily across the back of the booth.
Rachel sat quietly, her face slightly flushed, carefully nursing the same drink she'd started an hour ago, her shy eyes darting over to meet mine occasionally and then quickly away again.
Kara, however, was another story altogether. I couldn't help but grin at the blonde Kryptonian across from me. She had downed enough shots to get any normal person absolutely plastered—yet every time she drank one, within minutes, she was entirely sober again, her superhuman metabolism burning through alcohol at an insane pace. It was honestly impressive, if a bit ridiculous. Currently, Kara was gesturing enthusiastically toward the harried-looking bartender again, loudly requesting another round of shots for herself.
I leaned back with a soft chuckle, amused at how eagerly Kara seemed to embrace the human nightlife.
"I think you're seriously cutting into that bartender's sanity, Kara," I joked lightly, giving her a teasing smile. "He's probably wondering how the hell you're still standing upright, much less ordering more?"
Then again, he’d probably seen weirder things in Gotham…
Kara laughed brightly, tossing back her long blonde hair in a carefree gesture. "He'll survive!" she assured me cheerfully. "Besides, it's kind of hilarious watching the look on his face every time I ask for another shot."
Dick and Rachel both smiled faintly at Kara's comment, clearly entertained by her antics.
I sighed softly, my gaze sliding slowly toward the digital clock mounted near the back wall behind the bar. It was quickly approaching midnight. Not that I had an actual bedtime or anything silly like that, but I had been away for the entire day without even thinking to check in on any of my coven mates.
Morgana had mentioned earlier that she'd be busy today meeting some mysterious ancient acquaintance of hers, but by now, surely she was home and possibly worrying about my unexplained absence.
My stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought of Morgana. The memory of what I'd done earlier today came rushing back with nauseating force—the image of Mordred's arrogant, pleading face as I'd ruthlessly devoured his very soul flashed clearly in my mind. A wave of guilt rolled heavily through my gut, threatening to force the alcohol I'd consumed earlier right back up again!
I clenched my fists beneath the table, fighting down the sudden urge to vomit all over the booth.
Suddenly, I felt Rachel’s soft gaze on me, a gentle pressure of warmth and concern radiating toward me. Oh, right—I remembered belatedly—Rachel was an empath. She probably sensed every dark, painful thought racing through my mind at that moment.
"Amara," Rachel murmured softly, leaning slightly forward with a cautious expression. "Is everything alright?"
I quickly forced a reassuring smile onto my face, though it felt weak and brittle. "I'm fine, Raven—sorry, I mean Rachel," I corrected myself hastily, attempting a casual tone that didn't quite match my racing pulse. "Just... got lost in my head there for a second, that's all."
Rachel didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded slowly, clearly choosing not to press further for now. I exhaled softly in relief, grateful she wasn't pushing me for an explanation I wasn't ready to share.
"Today was really nice, you three," I admitted quietly after a pause, glancing slowly between Dick, Rachel, and Kara, meaning every word I said. My voice came out softer than intended, almost wistful. "Honestly, thank you for helping me feel like a normal girl again—even if it was just for a few hours."
Dick smiled warmly, his handsome face softening visibly as he nodded in quiet acknowledgment. Rachel simply gave me a gentle smile, her eyes conveying understanding without needing words.
But it was Kara who spoke up next, her bright blue eyes shining earnestly as she leaned forward with sudden sincerity. "You know, Amara, you could feel like this all the time," she urged gently, her voice unexpectedly serious amid the noisy chaos of the club. "If you ever decide to quit being a villain and try being a hero instead, you might find that happiness isn't as rare as you think!"
Her words caught me entirely off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out at first. I was genuinely surprised at myself, because for a brief, fleeting moment, I actually found myself hesitating, uncertain of what to say. The idea of stepping away from my darker path—of giving up my pursuit of power and revenge—sent a confusing swirl of conflicting emotions rushing through me.
But then my [Simmering Fury] began to stir, and I knew it was impossible for me…
The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat longer, however, before I shook my head firmly, pushing the thought away. "I'm sorry, Kara," I finally told her gently but resolutely, meeting her hopeful gaze evenly. "It's... complicated. I should really be getting home now."
Kara's face fell slightly in disappointment, but she gave me a small, understanding smile and nodded reluctantly. "I understand, Amara," she replied softly. "But just remember—if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us."
Dick and Rachel both stood up alongside Kara as I rose from my seat, the three of them watching me closely, as if half-expecting I'd reconsider leaving right then.
I hesitated briefly, looking at each of their faces in turn. An idea suddenly occurred to me, making a sly, playful smirk slowly form on my lips. Stepping forward quickly before any of them could react, I boldly leaned up toward Kara and pressed a soft, lingering kiss directly to her flushed cheek.
Kara instantly sputtered in surprise, eyes widening dramatically as a bright blush bloomed rapidly across her pretty face. She raised one hand to her cheek, clearly stunned and slightly embarrassed by my unexpected kiss.
I chuckled softly at her adorable reaction before swiftly turning my attention to Dick and Rachel next. Moving quickly, I leaned upward and lightly kissed Dick's rougher, more stubbled cheek next, causing him to blink rapidly in astonishment. A faint, almost boyish blush rose visibly beneath his tanned skin. Finally, I turned toward Rachel, who stared at me wide-eyed and utterly bewildered. Leaning close, I softly pressed my lips to her smooth, porcelain-pale cheek as well. Rachel's blush was immediate and vibrant against her pale skin, her usually calm expression replaced entirely by open-mouthed shock.
"There," I teased lightly, stepping back and giving them a mischievous smile, my own cheeks slightly flushed with amusement. "Now none of you have to feel jealous anymore. I've officially kissed all three of you equally."
Their expressions of stunned disbelief were absolutely priceless. I felt another soft giggle escape my lips as I turned to leave.
"I'll see you around, heroes," I called back warmly over my shoulder as I pushed my way gently through the crowded nightclub toward the exit, a satisfied smile lingering on my lips. Even with all my complicated emotions and the guilt that still lingered in my gut, I had to admit—today really had felt nice.
Other than this morning of course…
Now it was time to face reality once more—time to face Morgana, and hope desperately she would never learn the terrible truth of what I'd done to her son.
…
Maybe spending the day hanging out with three annoyingly noble heroes had rubbed off on me a little. It was either that or perhaps the accumulated alcohol was still clouding my judgment. Either way, as I wandered the gloomy, neon-lit streets of Gotham City alone at night, I found myself oddly reluctant to handle the criminal element with my usual lethal efficiency.
Like clockwork, multiple scruffy-looking men dressed in baggy hoodies and stained jeans jumped out from a darkened alleyway, clearly mistaking me for an easy target. I sighed inwardly; the repeated attacks were starting to feel like routine now, almost an irritating Gotham ritual. Normally, I'd have simply burned them alive and tossed their charred corpses into the nearest dumpster.
Tonight, however, I decided to go a bit softer.
I quickly summoned my wand from my inventory, feeling its comforting weight appear smoothly in my right hand. Then, raising it without hesitation, I fired off rapid stunning charms at the charging group. Bright flashes of scarlet light shot out from the tip of my wand, and the thugs dropped limply to the cracked pavement with satisfying thuds. They laid sprawled awkwardly, mouths hanging open, eyes rolled back—completely knocked out but very much alive.
I paused for a moment, observing the mess I'd left in the middle of the street, wondering idly if Gotham's police would bother showing up to collect them.
I seriously doubted it. Still, it was the thought that counted, right?
Sighing quietly, I slipped my wand back into my inventory with a flick of thought and resumed my walk back toward the warehouse. But I'd barely taken three steps forward when I suddenly heard the faint echo of footsteps approaching me from ahead.
Curious and wary, I turned my head up sharply, squinting slightly in the dim, flickering glow of the streetlights. My breath hitched slightly when my gaze landed on a strikingly beautiful goth girl approaching from the opposite direction. Even at first glance, something about her presence felt extremely out of place—and extremely familiar. I couldn't put my finger on why exactly, but it nagged persistently at the edge of my consciousness. Oddly enough, even with my normally reliable [Cursed Knowledge], I was inexplicably drawing a total blank on who this gorgeous goth stranger could be.
Her skin was even paler than Rachel's normally porcelain complexion, looking almost impossibly smooth and flawless in the low light. Her punk-styled black hair cascaded down in messy, wild layers over her shoulders and back, and framed her slender, almost delicate face. She was wearing a tight-fitting grey top that hugged her torso, emphasizing her slender waist and beautifully large, perky breasts. The shirt was paired with tight, form-fitting black skinny jeans that clung to her toned thighs and slender legs, accentuating her slender yet clearly fit figure.
She raised her head and our gazes met. My vibrant green eyes locked onto hers, which were impossibly pitch-black, like dark pools absorbing all surrounding light. I felt my whole body involuntarily freeze in place for a heartbeat, startled by the intensity of her gaze. Those dark eyes of hers seemed to see straight through me, peering directly into the very depths of my soul. The sensation made me shiver involuntarily.
Despite my confusion and uncertainty, I managed to give her my best friendly smile, forcing myself to relax a little as I greeted her warmly, "Hello there. I love your whole look, honestly."
She immediately returned the smile, and to my genuine surprise, she responded far more cheerfully and friendly than I'd anticipated from her intimidating appearance. "Thanks!" she said brightly, her voice carrying an oddly playful, melodic quality to it. "I like to think of myself as the pioneer of this look!"
I tilted my head slightly, a bit puzzled by her choice of words. The pioneer? But before I could ask what she meant by that, the girl stepped closer and continued speaking, her casual voice shifting into something a bit more serious, tinged with a faint hint of annoyance.
"You know, I just got back from a very far away trip," she began conversationally, narrowing her beautiful black eyes slightly in apparent irritation, "and I found out that arrogant Lucy didn't mind his own business and decided to do something very naughty while I was away." She paused briefly, shaking her head slightly with a sigh. "I'm definitely going to have to punish him later for this mess."
I blinked slowly, completely confused now. Lucy… Lucifer? Wait, was she referring to Lucifer Morningstar? Was she seriously talking about him in such a casual, dismissive manner?
The goth girl didn't seem bothered by my obvious confusion as she continued calmly, "But for now, I'll have to correct his mistake myself, because I don't like seeing you so sad and guilt-ridden." She smiled sympathetically at me, an oddly genuine and warm expression on her pale face. "I'm really sorry about this in advance, Amara."
Before I could process or even question what she meant by 'sorry', her slender fist slammed into my stomach with an utterly staggering force—more powerful than anything I'd ever experienced before. The brutal impact knocked all the air violently from my lungs in an instant, leaving me gasping helplessly for breath. My knees immediately buckled beneath me, and I doubled over, coughing uncontrollably as nausea rose rapidly inside my stomach.
Then, without warning, I gagged violently and vomited right onto the filthy Gotham sidewalk. The alcohol I'd consumed earlier spewed out messily—but to my stunned disbelief, it wasn't just booze escaping my mouth. Amidst the disgusting mess, a glowing white orb suddenly shot straight from my lips, hovering brightly in mid-air between us.
My mind raced in panic and disbelief. Wait a second—was that Mordred’s soul I'd devoured earlier at Lucifer's nightclub?!
Before I could react, the goth girl quickly grabbed the brightly glowing soul orb with an impressively casual ease, holding it gently but firmly between her fingertips. Then, to my bewilderment, she casually shoved the glowing sphere directly into the back pocket of her tight-fitting skinny jeans like it was nothing more than a spare coin or a piece of candy.
She smiled apologetically again. "Sorry again about that," she said gently, looking genuinely sympathetic. She then reached into the opposite pocket of her jeans and casually pulled out yet another glowing orb—this one a darker shade, swirling with faint shadowy energies. "Here," she explained conversationally, holding out the darkly shimmering orb toward me like she was offering me a casual snack. "This soul belonged to a completely unrepentant serial killer. Trust me, it's a much better match as your first 'meal.' I'm glad I got here in time before you fully digested Mordred's soul. It'll recover eventually, and now you don't have to feel guilty anymore!"
My knees shook as I slowly pushed myself back upright, wiping my lips shakily with the back of my hand. I tried to open my mouth, stammering hoarsely in bewilderment, "W-what the hell just—"
But before I could even finish my question, the girl swiftly stepped forward again and, without hesitation, shoved the second glowing soul orb straight down my throat. My eyes widened dramatically in shock, my voice cutting off instantly as the dark soul slipped effortlessly past my lips and settled deeply inside my chest.
I immediately gasped at the strange sensation—this new soul tasted darker, stronger, filled with sharp spikes of violence and twisted cruelty. A shiver of something almost pleasurable rippled down my spine, followed by a disturbing feeling of strength surging within my body! The power I lost after coughing up Mordred’s soul was immediately replaced.
Finally catching my breath again, I stared at the goth girl in stunned disbelief. "Who…who the hell are you exactly?"
The mysterious goth beauty simply gave me a gentle, knowing smile, her pitch-black eyes glittering faintly with amusement. "Oh, I'm just someone who cares very deeply about you, Amara Black," she replied cryptically, winking at me playfully. "But don’t worry about that right now. You'll find out soon enough. For now, go home and get some rest, alright? You've had quite the day…"
– Morgana –
Morgana paced slowly across the spacious, dimly-lit living room of the warehouse. She glanced irritably at the wall clock, sighing for what felt like the twentieth time in the last hour.
She’d arrived home hours ago, feeling drained and distinctly annoyed after her meeting with that frustratingly arrogant immortal man. Morgana rubbed the bridge of her nose in agitation.
Honestly, dealing with him was always exhausting. No matter how carefully Morgana planned the encounter, the conversation never unfolded quite as she expected. HE had always been unpredictable, stubborn, and irritatingly cryptic—this time, of course, had been no exception.
Still, despite her irritation, Morgana couldn’t entirely dismiss the usefulness of what had come from their conversation. To her considerable surprise, he had actually invited both herself and her apprentice into some secret club he'd apparently been building quietly behind the scenes for years.
First the Court of Owls, and now this mysterious organization he'd dramatically named “The Light.”
Morgana shook her head in mild disbelief, amusement pulling slightly at her dark red lips. Suddenly, everyone wanted a piece of her. Villains, secret societies, shadowy cabals—all of them seemed to regard her as some vital addition to their ranks, practically falling over themselves to court her favor. She supposed it should’ve been flattering, yet somehow it felt faintly absurd.
Morgana knew exactly why she was suddenly so popular again, too.
It wasn’t hard to figure out.
Without Mordred around, constantly undermining her with his arrogant and petulant demands, people were finally beginning to see Morgana herself as a genuinely competent, capable villainess and dark witch again.
She paused thoughtfully, her brow creasing as a strange, disconcerting realization struck her. Had Mordred really been dragging her down all this time?
She considered the question carefully, startled by the clarity with which the answer came to her. Yes, Morgana realized, eyes widening slightly—he had.
Mordred had indeed been holding her back for centuries, his selfish impulses and reckless tantrums constantly compromising her own plans, schemes, and goals.
And yet, despite everything, Morgana had never punished him for his behavior. Not truly. Her irritation had always melted away too quickly. Instead, she’d indulged and spoiled him, rationalizing away his mistakes and forgiving every insult he’d hurled her way. She’d enabled his worst tendencies again and again, allowing his selfish behavior to escalate unchecked.
Had that been what the youth nowadays would call a toxic relationship?
Morgana sighed heavily, disturbed by her own revelation. She shook her head again, pushing those thoughts aside. There were far more pressing things to focus on now—like the fact that her beautiful apprentice Amara still wasn’t home.
Upon returning earlier that afternoon, Morgana had found Daphne and Astoria anxiously waiting for her in the living room. Both of the blonde sisters had jumped up immediately upon her entrance, relief visible in their bright blue eyes. But their hopeful expressions had quickly shifted into worry as they reported Amara had apparently disappeared early that morning and hadn’t come back since. Morgana had initially reassured the sisters, believing Amara probably just needed some space after getting that letter, but as the day wore on without any word, Morgana grew increasingly concerned.
To make matters worse, Daphne and Astoria had received no replies from their parents, despite multiple letters and attempts at communication.
Seeing their shared anxiety, Morgana had briefly considered distracting herself and the girls by taking Daphne and Astoria back to bed again. After all, their earlier session had been frustratingly interrupted by that obnoxious little house elf barging rudely into the bedroom at the worst possible moment. But Morgana had quickly discarded the idea. Without Amara there as well the idea of steamy sex with the sisters just didn’t seem as appealing or complete.
So, instead, Morgana had resigned herself to passing the hours in a more mundane way, watching three different movies one after the other, barely paying attention to them, and ordering pizza for dinner when it became clear Amara wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.
By the time they reached the end of the third film, Morgana’s nerves had become painfully frayed.
She stood up restlessly from the couch, pacing again as she seriously debated whether or not she should leave the warehouse and go searching Gotham’s darkened streets herself for her beloved apprentice.
But just as she began moving toward the exit, a sudden noise snapped her attention to the side entrance door. Morgana halted instantly, breath catching in her throat as the door slowly creaked open.
“I'm back!” Amara called out in a shaky voice. Morgana’s eyes instantly widened in shock and worry as she took in her apprentice’s messy appearance. The front of Amara’s tank top was stained with dried, foul-smelling vomit, and her raven-black hair was disheveled and messy, clinging to her sweaty forehead. Her vibrant green eyes looked strangely haunted, filled with a desperate weariness Morgana had never seen in them before.
Morgana forced herself to speak lightly, trying not to betray how deeply concerned she truly was. She managed a teasing smile, cocking her head gently to the side. “Well, you certainly look like you’ve had quite the eventful day, my apprentice,” she remarked dryly, raising one elegant eyebrow at Amara’s disheveled appearance.
But to Morgana’s astonishment, Amara didn’t respond to her playful tone at all. Instead, the beautiful young woman suddenly lifted her eyes, meeting Morgana’s gaze directly. Morgana felt a sharp jolt of alarm rush through her body when she saw the raw anguish and guilt visible on Amara’s face.
Amara’s knees buckled. She slumped heavily onto the carpet, collapsing to her knees. Morgana watched in shock as Amara’s shoulders began trembling violently, her apprentice breaking down completely into heartbreaking sobs!
“Amara?!” Morgana’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She instantly rushed forward across the room toward her fallen apprentice, heels clicking rapidly against the floor. Daphne and Astoria hurried alongside her, all three women reaching Amara almost simultaneously.
“What's wrong, Amara?” Daphne asked anxiously, kneeling beside Amara’s shaking figure and gently placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Astoria echoed her sister’s concern, touching Amara’s back reassuringly.
“Amara, please talk to us!” Morgana begged desperately, crouching directly in front of her weeping apprentice, trying to gently coax the girl’s face upward. Her own hands trembled slightly with worry as she carefully lifted Amara’s chin, gazing directly into those beautiful green eyes, now red and swollen with tears. “Talk to me, darling,” Morgana urged gently, her voice thick with genuine distress. “Please tell me what happened! Did someone hurt you? Are you injured?”
Amara’s sobbing slowly quieted, but tears continued to spill freely down her pale, tear-stained cheeks. She shook her head slightly, looking deeply ashamed…
Morgana glanced at Daphne and Astoria, noticing their worried, anxious expressions. She offered them a reassuring look, her voice calm but firm as she said clearly, "Girls, I appreciate your concern, but please, let me handle this. I'll take care of Amara myself. She needs me right now."
Daphne hesitated briefly, clearly wanting to argue, but Astoria gently placed a comforting hand on her sister's arm and gave Morgana an understanding nod. "Of course, Lady Morgana. If there's anything we can do later to help, please tell us."
Morgana gave them a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Astoria. I'll let you know if we need anything."
Turning her full attention back to Amara, Morgana felt her heart twist painfully at the sight of her apprentice still trembling slightly on the carpeted floor, head bowed low. Gently, with extreme care, Morgana bent down and slid her arms beneath Amara's slender knees and around her back, carefully scooping the younger woman into her embrace.
Amara made a faint, startled sound, clearly not expecting to be suddenly lifted off the ground. Her beautiful, tear-streaked face tilted upward, vivid emerald eyes wide and confused as they met Morgana's softer gaze. Morgana only smiled tenderly, cradling Amara securely against her chest as she turned toward their shared bedroom.
She carried Amara slowly down the hallway, quietly kicking the door shut behind them. Moving straight into the spacious, beautifully decorated private bathroom, Morgana glanced toward the ornate porcelain bathtub. With a casual, effortless wave of her hand, powerful magic flowed from her fingertips, instantly causing steaming hot water to pour directly from thin air into the large bathtub, filling it swiftly.
Still gently holding Amara in her arms, Morgana gazed downward again, noting with relief that her apprentice had stopped crying, although her breath still came in soft, uneven little gasps. Morgana softly murmured a second spell beneath her breath, one specifically created to magically strip clothing away in a heartbeat. Immediately, the garments covering both of their bodies vanished without a trace.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Morgana couldn't help but grin slightly in appreciation of the naked beauty in her arms. She admired Amara's flawless, smooth skin, her firm, perfectly shaped breasts, her toned stomach, and the beautiful curves of her hips and thighs. Even now, after so much intimate time together, the sight of Amara's bare form never failed to captivate Morgana. Holding her gorgeous apprentice close to her own naked body, Morgana stepped carefully into the tub, sinking down into the comforting heat of the water with a contented sigh.
She leaned back against the smooth edge of the large bathtub, pulling Amara carefully against her chest. The younger woman settled quietly into place between Morgana's thighs, her bare back pressing directly against Morgana's own large, sensitive breasts. Morgana felt a pleasant shiver ripple through her at the intimate contact of their bare skin meeting.
For several moments, the two identical-looking, raven-haired witches sat silently together, simply soaking peacefully in the warm water. Morgana's fingers slowly began tracing gentle, comforting patterns across Amara's stomach and ribs, carefully working to soothe away the lingering tension in her apprentice’s body. She could feel Amara gradually begin to relax against her, muscles loosening slightly beneath her tender touch.
Encouraged by Amara's quiet, gradual relaxation, Morgana moved her hands upward, gently cupping and massaging her apprentice’s full, round breasts. Amara’s breathing hitched softly, a delicate little gasp slipping from her parted lips as Morgana lightly rolled her fingertips across the sensitive peaks. Smiling in quiet satisfaction, Morgana leaned closer, pressing warm, tender kisses against the back of Amara’s slender neck.
Amara shivered slightly, her breath growing quicker, heavier. Morgana continued her gentle ministrations, feeling relieved and pleased as Amara finally let out a soft, breathy moan. Her apprentice’s hips moved slightly beneath the water, causing her firm, rounded ass cheeks to shift and bounce subtly against Morgana’s lap. Morgana felt her own desire quickly beginning to rise, but for now, she focused entirely on comforting Amara.
Now that Amara appeared calmer, Morgana leaned closer again, her lips brushing against the delicate shell of her apprentice’s ear as she whispered gently, "Amara, sweetheart… please talk to me. Tell me what upset you so deeply today. I've never seen you this shaken before."
Amara hesitated, letting out another quiet sigh before finally speaking softly, "I…I did something really bad earlier, Morgana. Something awful, something I never thought could be undone. I thought it would be permanent, and the guilt…it nearly destroyed me. But somehow, miraculously, it ended up getting fixed."
Morgana paused, absorbing Amara’s vague confession thoughtfully. She pressed another tender kiss to the nape of Amara’s neck, continuing to massage and tease her apprentice’s breasts, carefully maintaining the warm, pleasurable sensations between them. After a thoughtful moment, Morgana finally responded carefully, her tone soft and understanding, "Well, if whatever happened was fixed, and it upset you this deeply, it's obvious that you don't truly want to talk about it yet. Perhaps, at least for now, I'm better off not knowing exactly what you did, my darling apprentice." Morgana paused briefly, carefully gauging Amara’s reaction. When the younger witch didn’t immediately argue or protest, Morgana leaned forward again, pressing her lips warmly against the soft curve of Amara’s shoulder. "For now," she continued softly, whispering seductively in Amara’s ear, "why don’t you just tell me what else you did today. You were gone for a long time according to Daphne and Astoria…”
– Amara –
The next morning, I sat down heavily at the kitchen table with Daphne and Astoria, a guilty sigh escaping my lips as I caught sight of their anxious, concerned expressions.
Daphne, always so dignified and calm, was nibbling nervously at her lower lip. Astoria was fiddling restlessly with a lock of her long blonde hair, shooting me quick, uncertain glances every few seconds.
“I’m really, truly sorry, girls,” I said quietly, looking each of them in the eye. “I didn’t mean to make either of you worry so much yesterday. That was honestly the last thing I wanted to do.”
Without waiting for a response, I stood and leaned forward, gently cupping Daphne’s soft cheek in my hand. I tilted her pretty face up and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against her lips. Daphne made a faint sound of surprise at first, but quickly melted into the kiss, her mouth moving gently against mine for several heartbeats before we reluctantly separated.
Next, I turned toward Astoria, whose cheeks flushed a deep pink the moment my eyes met hers. I smiled gently, stepping closer and cupping her delicate face as well, softly brushing my thumb along her smooth, warm skin before kissing her lips just as slowly and tenderly as I had Daphne’s. Astoria let out a tiny, adorable squeak, but she eagerly kissed me back, her lips soft and sweet against my own.
Pulling back slightly, I looked at both sisters carefully, relieved to see their expressions were now significantly less tense.
“Really,” I insisted again, squeezing each of their hands reassuringly. “I’ll make sure I don’t disappear on you two like that again. You deserve better than having to worry like that.”
Astoria nodded, giving me a hesitant but genuine smile, her pretty blue eyes still shyly lowered. “It’s alright, Amara. We’re just glad you’re safe.”
“Exactly,” Daphne added, gently reaching over to stroke my hand. “But seriously, just give us a heads-up next time you need some space. Our hearts can’t handle it.”
“Fair enough,” I chuckled, warmth flooding my chest. It felt good—truly good—to know these two cared about me so genuinely.
The previous night, I’d apologized thoroughly to Morgana as well—though admittedly, her approach to comforting me had been significantly more intense. After calming down in her arms in the bathtub, she’d driven me nearly mad with pleasure, patiently and skillfully teasing me until I lost track of how many orgasms she drew from my body. It was after she’d thoroughly satisfied me, while I was still trembling and breathless in her embrace, that I’d managed to give her an abridged version of my day.
Of course, I’d skipped the details about Lucifer and Mordred, but I’d confessed to absorbing the soul of a random serial killer I supposedly stumbled upon—a fact that had actually pleased Morgana immensely. I also mentioned the surprising mini-dates I’d unintentionally enjoyed with Kara, Dick, and Rachel. Morgana had only laughed softly, clearly amused rather than jealous. Then she’d leaned forward, tenderly brushing my brand new horns with her fingertips, whispering with deep sincerity that she found them incredibly beautiful.
Lost in those pleasant memories, I almost didn’t notice Morgana enter the kitchen until the delicious scent of freshly cooked breakfast hit my senses. Morgana placed large plates of perfectly crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, golden toast, and sliced fruits onto the table, settling herself gracefully into the chair directly across from me. Her eyes met mine, thoughtful and serious, as she spoke softly but clearly.
“Amara,” Morgana began gently, carefully buttering a slice of toast, “have you thought more about what you plan to do regarding that letter from your birth mother? Do you want to go back to London to confront your family?”
Daphne and Astoria immediately perked up, turning curious gazes toward me. Both girls exchanged a quick, hesitant glance before Astoria spoke up nervously. “We’ve been really worried too, actually. Our parents still haven’t answered any of our messages, and that’s just… it’s not like them at all.”
Daphne nodded seriously. “Father is usually annoyingly diligent about checking in on us. This silence has me extremely worried.”
I bit my lower lip, anxiety twisting uncomfortably in my gut. After another quiet moment of contemplation, I finally sighed and nodded slowly. “Yes. I think I need to go back to London. Just for a few days at most, though. And I need to go alone.”
Immediately, all three women around the table looked ready to protest, their mouths opening almost simultaneously in objection. I quickly held up my hand, firmly stopping them before the arguments could begin.
“Listen,” I explained earnestly, carefully keeping my tone calm and steady, “it’s genuinely safer if I handle this myself first. I’m a Metamorphmagus, remember? I can sneak around the wizarding world unnoticed using my old appearance—no one will suspect me, at least not right away. Morgana, you know you can’t come yet. You still don’t have your wand, and we both know Merlin would sense your return immediately if you entered magical Britain. It’s way too dangerous.”
Morgana sighed softly, clearly frustrated but unable to deny my reasoning. She grudgingly nodded, murmuring quietly, “I know you’re right, but I don’t like letting you go alone, especially after what happened yesterday.”
My heart twisted painfully with guilt, but I held her gaze steadily, determined. “I’ll be careful, Morgana. I promise.”
I then turned toward Daphne and Astoria, speaking softly yet firmly. “As for you two, if something bad really has happened to your family, you’ll be safer here. If there’s any danger at all, you could easily become targets if you return prematurely. I need to investigate this first, make sure things are safe before we all rush back together.”
Daphne looked deeply troubled but reluctantly agreed, sighing in resignation. Astoria just nodded slowly, visibly worried but understanding my logic.
“You all deserve to know exactly what’s happening, but I won’t risk your safety unnecessarily,” I concluded seriously, glancing around the table once more. “And honestly? I do need to see my family alone at least one last time. I have to find out once and for all if my birth mother is truly sorry, or if she’s still just a lying, manipulative bitch.”
I let out a bitter chuckle, remembering yesterday’s conversation clearly. Dick and Rachel both made it abundantly clear what they thought yesterday. According to them, my mother is definitely a lying bitch, but they also said I should still see her face-to-face to make certain of it for myself.
And considering Dick’s parents were tragically killed when he was young, and Rachel’s parents are literally an evil interdimensional demon lord and the stupid human woman dumb enough to join a cult and fuck him… well, let’s just say they both probably know what they’re talking about when it comes to messed-up family situations.
A heavy silence settled briefly around the breakfast table as my words hung heavily in the air.
Finally, Morgana broke the quiet, giving me a gentle but supportive smile. “You’re right, my darling apprentice. You deserve answers and closure. But please promise us again that you’ll be safe and careful.”
I reached across the table, taking Morgana’s hand and squeezing reassuringly. “I promise. Trust me, Morgana—I’ll be careful and smart about this.”
Morgana’s eyes softened noticeably at my sincere declaration, and I saw similar expressions of relief pass across Daphne and Astoria’s pretty faces.
– Batman –
Batman sat at the head of the long conference table in the Watchtower meeting room.
Sitting along either side of the polished steel and glass table was a small but formidable group of his fellow Justice League members.
Superman sat directly to his left. Next to Superman was Wonder Woman, who sat upright and composed. Across from them, Martian Manhunter—J'onn J'onzz—sat silently, his expression thoughtful and unreadable, his bright red eyes calmly meeting Batman's gaze. Beside J'onn sat Hal Jordan—the Green Lantern. And finally, there was Barry Allen, The Flash.
This wasn’t the entire league, not even close, but it was who he could get under such short notice. Batman knew the entire League couldn’t always gather at once, each hero had their own battles, commitments, and responsibilities to attend to. But this matter was too important to postpone, even without a full roster present.
He'd wasted no time scheduling this urgent meeting following the report he received from Nightwing, Raven, and Supergirl after the AMAZO incident two days ago in Metropolis.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the polished table surface, and began to explain clearly and concisely what had been uncovered.
"As you all know, Nightwing, Raven, and Supergirl discovered something troubling immediately after our encounter with AMAZO," Batman began gravely, his deep voice echoing slightly within the room. "It seems there's an entire hidden population of magic-using humans—wizards and witches—existing secretly among the rest of humanity. They had established, or attempted to establish, a secret magical government called MACUSA right here in America."
Superman's brow furrowed deeply at this revelation. "MACUSA? I've never heard of that. What exactly were they trying to accomplish?"
Batman met Superman's concerned gaze. "MACUSA stands for the 'Magical Congress of the United States of America,'" he clarified. "From what we know, this group intended to govern and regulate all magical activities secretly. More disturbingly, they had extensive knowledge about our real identities. Not only ours—but those of our close friends, families, and associates as well."
A shocked silence filled the meeting room at Batman's words. Superman visibly stiffened at the mention of their loved ones, a shadow passing briefly across his face. "You're telling me these magical lunatics knew everything about us?" Hal Jordan asked incredulously, leaning forward in alarm. "Exactly how much danger were we looking at here?"
Batman’s voice remained calm and steady as he continued. "Based on the information we have, MACUSA was prepared to hunt down and eliminate—or at best imprison indefinitely—anyone who posed even the smallest threat of exposing the existence of magic to the wider world. Our identities alone were enough justification for them. Simply because we knew about magic, they considered us targets."
Superman's usually calm demeanor cracked, his eyes flashing dangerously with an ominous red glow at the thought of someone potentially harming Lois. "That’s completely insane," Superman growled softly, his voice a menacing whisper. "Going after innocent people just because they might know something? Threatening our loved ones? They would have gone after Lois!?"
Batman nodded somberly, recognizing the intensity in Superman’s reaction. "We don’t know WHY yet, but Morgana and her new apprentice Amara Black, moved to eliminate them swiftly before they could fulfil any of their MANY plans. MACUSA no longer exists—everyone involved was killed."
Wonder Woman shifted uncomfortably, a troubled look crossing her features at the mention of Morgana's name.
Batman noted her reaction clearly. He understood exactly why Diana felt guilt. After all, she had personally been the one to strike down Mordred, Morgana's son.
Still, she spoke up with quiet authority. "Morgana and her apprentice did us a favor, removing that threat. Even so," Diana's voice grew heavier, tinged with regret, "the sheer ruthlessness displayed by those two…” she gestured to the pictures of the crime scene he’d placed on the table. “They didn't just eliminate the threat—they did so brutally, without hesitation or mercy..."
Batman inclined his head slowly, acknowledging her concerns. "Agreed. Their methods are troublingly extreme and we will need to capture both of them someday soon. But for now, their actions have revealed an even larger issue we must address."
Barry Allen leaned forward eagerly, clearly trying to push past the discomfort of the gruesome details. "You mean the existence of a 'secret magical world'? How deep does this actually run?"
Batman’s jaw tightened slightly, and he explained carefully, "Nightwing, Raven, and Supergirl managed to meet with Amara Black directly yesterday in Gotham City. They spoke with her at length—apparently, she's been fairly forthcoming." Batman hesitated for a brief moment, clearly uneasy even discussing a budding villain in cooperative terms, before continuing decisively. "She explained more clearly the true nature of the magical world—especially across Europe." Batman paused briefly, observing their concerned and shocked reactions before continuing. "According to her, many European countries are secretly controlled by hidden magical governments similar to MACUSA—Britain, France, Germany, and likely many others. These governments enforce strict secrecy through powerful mind-controlling and memory-altering magic."
J'onn spoke up calmly, his deep voice measured and thoughtful, but tinged with unmistakable concern. "Mind control and memory manipulation are grave violations of personal autonomy. To know entire populations could be subjected to this so casually is deeply disturbing."
Batman nodded firmly, appreciating J'onn’s clear understanding. "Exactly. They use these spells liberally on regular people—or as they dismissively call us, 'muggles.'" Batman's tone darkened significantly when he said the word. He felt an immediate and unmistakable distaste at using the term, recognizing clearly that it was derogatory—a term designed specifically to separate and demean ordinary humans.
"You're saying these magical governments are secretly controlling entire countries!?" Hal questioned sharply, disbelief and disgust evident in his voice. "And no one has noticed? This is so freaking illegal!"
Batman shook his head grimly. "Apparently, they've operated entirely unnoticed for centuries. Their magic isn’t necessarily powerful, but it is insidious and thorough."
"How did we miss this for so long?" Superman muttered in frustrated disbelief, eyes narrowed in thought. “I’m pretty sure Kara tried asking me about this yesterday but I had no idea what she was talking about… She seemed shocked that I never noticed, and now I am too,” he admitted.
Wonder Woman patted Superman’s arm saying he might hear the whole world, but they probably have magical wards that block his senses. “We know you have a minor weakness when it comes to magic,” she pointed out and superman nodded reluctantly.
"That's exactly what Nightwing and I intend to find out," Batman responded to Superman’s question. "We're planning a discreet investigative mission to London for the next few days. If Britain is truly home to one of these hidden magical governments, we'll confirm their presence and gather as much intelligence as possible…"
XXX
Comments
Christian E. Y.
Oh the irony!! You can tell how young our dear author is. The league had been using memory wipes and memory manipulation for years, whenever their enemies figured out their identities. Note that they did this without Batman’s knowledge, and when he found out, they did it to him too. When the truth came out, Batman left the league for a while and is one of the many reasons he has contingency plans in case they betray him… again!
Iori Daemona Angel
Dun, dun, dun!
