Raj stared at the dual crisis unfolding on the Watchtower screens, his mind racing through the implications of what he was witnessing.
On one side, the Justice League battling Wotan's apocalyptic ritual, their powers pushed to their limits as magical monsters tore through the city.
On the other, three sidekicks sneaking into Cadmus, unaware of what truly awaited them in the depths of that seemingly innocuous building.
And somewhere in the middle, he realized, he needed a base. A sanctuary. Somewhere to plan, to think, to operate from that wasn't the Watchtower's stolen computer access.
"Three disasters, one me," Raj muttered, fingers hovering over the Watchtower controls. His grandmother's voice echoed in his memory—"Bhagavan gave you two hands for a reason, beta." But even the gods had multiple avatars when the world needed saving.
His eyes drifted to the mental library where his unclaimed powers floated in the starlit void. The Cloning ability pulsed invitingly, its soft glow seeming to call to him—promising multiplication where division seemed impossible.
"Time to break the one-man-army rule," he whispered, reaching for it.
As his consciousness connected with the power, Raj felt a peculiar stretching sensation, like his mind was being split three ways—but smoothly, like a song harmonizing with itself. There was no pain, only a strange awareness of becoming...more.
In the physical world, his form shimmered briefly before separating into three identical Rajs, each solid and real, each containing a facet of his consciousness.
They exchanged glances, three smirks perfectly mirrored across identical faces.
"This just got interesting," they said in eerie unison, their voices overlapping in perfect synchronization.
The first Raj—Raj-1—nodded toward the Wotan feed, where Superman was visibly faltering against the magical onslaught. "I'll take wizard duty. Magical tantrum sounds like my jam."
The second—Raj-2—cracked his knuckles, eyes flicking to the Cadmus footage where Robin was already disabling security systems. "I'll handle the secret underground science horror show."
The third—Raj-3—tilted his head thoughtfully, already scanning satellite imagery. "And I'll find us a home base before Batman figures out we exist."
"Remember," Raj-1 said, voice growing serious, "this is day one of their journey. The day everything changes."
"Which means we know exactly how things play out," Raj-2 added, his expression tightening with determination. "Unless we change it."
Raj-3 smirked, eyes glinting with mischief and calculation. "Change it smartly."
With a shared nod, they prepared for their missions. Raj-1 focused on his Blink ability, visualizing Wotan's battlefield with perfect clarity. Raj-2 locked onto the alley near Cadmus, calculating the exact coordinates. Raj-3 targeted Washington D.C.'s outskirts, hunting for a forgotten facility to claim as their own.
"Quick tip," Raj-1 called out as teleportation energy gathered around each of them, crackling with power.
"Don't get caught," Raj-2 finished with a grin.
"And don't blow up the planet without me," Raj-3 added with a wink.
Before they vanished, Raj-3 quickly activated one final program—a carefully crafted loop of security footage showing Raj sitting at the console, monitoring systems but taking no action. The doctored feed would play for the next three hours, concealing their absence.
They disappeared in synchronized flashes of light, leaving the empty Watchtower monitor room behind.
WASHINGTON D.C. — JULY 4, 14:28 EDT
The battlefield shuddered as another monster clawed its way into existence—a writhing mass of shadow and bone that roared with hunger. Wonder Woman's sword flashed as she cut through tentacles that tried to ensnare Green Lantern. Superman, weakened by the corrupted sunlight, still fought valiantly against a beast twice his size.
Hidden behind collapsed rubble fifty yards away, Raj-1 watched the chaos unfold, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He felt the ground beneath him shake as if the very earth was reacting to the raw magic in the air. The acrid scent of burnt magic filled his lungs, mixing with the ozone. The stench of the creature's rotten breath was still thick in the air, and the crackle of Wotan's dark energy was a constant hum in the background.
'Okay. Surgical strike. No flashy heroics,' he thought, trying to ignore the tremor in his hands. 'This isn't a show anymore. Real people will die if I screw this up.'
With a focused thought, he commanded his Suit Forging ability.
Threads of energy wove around him, crafting a sleek stealth suit—dark, segmented armor that shimmered slightly before vanishing under the active stealth field. The material hugged his form securely, responding to his mental commands.
Protected and invisible, he ghosted forward across the ruined ground, ducking beneath debris and skirting around flaming wreckage. Every explosion made him flinch—the reality of super-combat far more terrifying than any show had portrayed.
Above the chaos, Wotan floated at the center of a glowing ritual—complex runes circling him like planetary rings, pulsing with malevolent energy. At the heart of it all spun a crystal core, surrounded by lesser artifacts anchoring the spell.
Raj squinted, his enhanced cognition analyzing the ritual's structure.
'Those anchors look... removable.'
A wicked idea bloomed in his mind.
Without a sound, he Blinked closer—weaving between monster fights and energy blasts—and reached out with Pocket Storage.
One by one, key components vanished from Wotan's ritual: a jagged onyx shard emanating darkness... a pulsating bone idol carved with forbidden symbols... a feather burning with green fire that seemed to scream as it disappeared.
Each one flickered out of the physical world and into his storage dimension.
Immediately, the ritual began to flicker—lines of runes sputtering like faulty neon.
Wotan roared, voice thick with rage, chanting louder to compensate. A whip of magic lashed out, moving faster than Raj had anticipated.
The magical tendril caught Raj's side, slicing through his stealth field and sending electric pain through his body. He bit down on his lip to keep from screaming.
Pain flared through him like nothing he'd ever felt before—magical energy burning in ways physical injury couldn't match. His Adaptation stirred to life, slow and clumsy at first, dulling the edge of the curse as Raj rolled away.
'Ow. Shit. Okay. Not invincible,' he grimaced, feeling the bruises already forming beneath his suit. 'This is real. Super real.'
He recovered quickly, adrenaline dulling the pain, eyes locked onto the final piece: the ritual crystal that hovered at the center of Wotan's spell.
No more stealing. It was time to break things.
Raj summoned a sniper lance of condensed light—thin and sharp as a laser. His hands shook as he took aim, his heart pounding in his ears.
'One shot. Don't miss.'
He fired.
The shot cracked the crystal across its core, destabilizing it. Cracks spread rapidly through its structure, rainbow fractures spiderwebbing outward.
When the crystal shattered, the explosion was like the sound of glass cracking under pressure, followed by a wave of heat that pushed him back for a brief moment.
Before Wotan could react, Raj materialized a gag of hard-light around the sorcerer's mouth, cutting off his chanting mid-word.
The magic backlash hit immediately—the disrupted spell unraveling with a violent whumpf, monsters collapsing into mist, the sky clearing as the corrupted sunlight reverted to normal.
The sudden release of energy knocked Raj backward, slamming him into a half-collapsed wall. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as pain radiated through his back.
'That... wasn't in the plan,' he thought dizzily.
The Justice League surged forward to mop up the remaining threats. Superman, suddenly rejuvenated as the sun cleared, landed a powerful blow that sent Wotan crashing to the ground.
Batman, ever observant, was already scanning the area, his eyes narrowing behind his cowl as he noticed the subtle disturbance where Raj crouched.
'Time to go,' Raj thought desperately.
He deactivated his stealth field just long enough to Blink further back into the ruins, pulling shadows around him again.
"Exit, stage left," he muttered, limping slightly as he retreated, the full reality of what he'd just done hitting him. He'd just interfered with a Justice League battle—and he'd survived.
Barely.
CADMUS RESEARCH FACILITY — JULY 4, 14:32 EDT
Raj-2 materialized in a dark alley across from Cadmus just as Kid Flash rescued two scientists from a flaming window, his red and yellow uniform a blur against the building's facade.
Moments later, Robin and Aqualad arrived, bantering briefly before diving inside with the reckless enthusiasm only teenage heroes could muster.
"And cue the Teen Titans auditions," Raj muttered, watching them disappear into the building. "So young... they have no idea what they're walking into."
He activated his Stealth Field, bending light and sound until he vanished from sight. The sensation was strange—like being wrapped in a cool, thin membrane that moved with him.
Unlike the sidekicks, Raj made no grand entrance. He slipped through a rarely-used maintenance door, his Technomancy disabling the lock without a sound. The door slid open with a gentle hiss, revealing sterile white corridors beyond.
He moved swiftly through empty halls, his mental map overlaying the layout in his mind like an augmented reality display. Every corner, every camera, every potential patrol route—all cataloged and accounted for.
'First stop: the Archives,' he thought, moving with growing confidence. 'Then the real work begins.'
He bypassed genomorph patrols, invisible and silent, until he reached a heavily secured chamber deep in Sublevel 52. The genomorphs moved with eerie synchronization, their horns glowing faintly as they communicated telepathically.
'Those genomorphs weren't attacking. They were being used.' Raj realized, watching their vacant expressions. 'Slaves to Cadmus's will.'
He leaned back against the cool stone wall, momentarily safe in a blind spot between security cameras.
'They'll need help... but I can't just charge in. Need a real base first. Somewhere to operate properly. Stockpile gear. Secure an exit plan.'
The Archive door required high-level clearance, but to Raj's Technomancy, it was child's play. His consciousness slipped into the digital matrix, bypassing firewalls and authentication protocols with surgical precision.
The reinforced door slid open with a soft hiss.
Inside: the real Roy Harper, floating in cryostasis, his young face peaceful behind the frosted glass. Monitoring equipment beeped softly, tracking his vital signs as he slumbered, unaware of the years being stolen from him.
"Welcome to freedom, Red," Raj whispered, examining the complex life support systems. With careful concentration, he gently transferred the entire pod into his Pocket Storage—maintaining all vital systems seamlessly.
The pod vanished from physical space, now contained within his dimensional pocket. A quick mental check confirmed that all systems remained stable—Roy was safe.
Next stop: something darker.
Following restricted files he'd accessed from the Watchtower, Raj navigated to a hidden wing labelled Special Biogenesis Projects. The security here was even tighter—retinal scanners, pressure plates, motion detectors.
'Good thing I can walk through digital walls,' Raj thought, using his Technomancy to override each system in turn.
Behind thick glass, suspended in nutrient fluid, floated a full-grown figure—his physique like Superman's, but more jagged. More... wrong.
Scarred. Brutal. His face contorted in what looked like permanent rage, even in unconsciousness.
The plaque read simply:
SUBJECT MATCHDesign Purpose: Obedient Countermeasure
Raj stared, heart sinking. A fully-matured weapon, not the adolescent clone he'd expected. A weapon, ready for war.
"Cadmus really couldn't help themselves," he muttered, disgust rising in his throat.
Quickly but carefully, Raj began disengaging Match's containment pod, maintaining life support protocols.
It wasn't easy—the systems were paranoid, full of traps and failsafes designed to destroy the asset rather than let it be compromised—but his Technomancy outwitted them one by one.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he worked, the strain of maintaining both his stealth field and complex technomantic operations simultaneously taking its toll.
"You're coming with me too," he said softly to the unconscious Kryptonian clone. "No one deserves to be a weapon."
Once Match's pod was safely tucked into his Pocket Storage, Raj accessed the main system one last time.
He left a digital ghost behind—a permanent backdoor—and planted a simple message across the network:
TODAY'S FORECAST: CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF FREEDOM
With alarms beginning to sound (for the sidekicks, not him), Raj Blinked out, unseen and unknown, leaving only his digital fingerprint behind.
OUTSKIRTS OF D.C. — JULY 4, 14:45 EDT
Raj-3 moved cautiously through the remnants of an abandoned observatory, his footsteps echoing in the empty dome.
Crumbling walls covered in decades of graffiti. Broken satellite dishes reclaimed by vines. A forgotten relic of the space race, left to decay after funding cuts three decades ago.
Perfectly isolated. No cameras. No security. No curious neighbors.
"Home sweet hideout," Raj-3 said, his voice bouncing off the curved ceiling.
Using his Technomancy, he tapped into local power lines and minor satellite feeds, establishing a rudimentary but secure perimeter. He repurposed old equipment, revitalizing dead systems with a touch.
Slowly, the abandoned facility began to hum with renewed purpose—lights flickering on in sequence, dormant computers waking from their long sleep.
Once satisfied with the basic infrastructure, he placed simple wards and prepared the place to receive visitors—particularly cryostasis pods and stolen Cadmus experiments.
As he worked, Raj-3 found himself humming an old Hindi lullaby his mother used to sing, the familiar melody somehow comforting in this strange new world. He paused occasionally to place small touches—including a corner where he set up a makeshift prayer space, a tiny reminder of home.
"Step one: base," Raj-3 muttered, examining his work with critical eyes. "Step two: survive Batman. Step three: don't die."
He settled in to wait for his other selves to arrive, connecting additional power systems to support the stasis pods he'd soon be housing.
The observatory doors slid open as Raj-1 staggered in, clutching his injured side. Raj-3 moved quickly to support him, guiding him to a makeshift medical station.
"Wotan?" Raj-3 asked, examining the magical burn.
"Handled," Raj-1 grimaced. "But not without souvenirs."
Minutes later, Raj-2 arrived, looking exhausted but unharmed. He immediately began extracting the stasis pods from his Pocket Storage, carefully transferring them to the power systems Raj-3 had prepared.
"Roy Harper and Match," Raj-2 explained as the pods materialized. "Plus a direct line into Cadmus's systems."
The three shared a look of accomplishment, tinged with exhaustion.
"Time to become one again," Raj-1 said, his voice strained. "This separation is taking its toll."
They gathered in the center of the observatory, beneath the open dome where stars were beginning to appear in the twilight sky. Their forms shimmered, then merged back together with a dizzying rush of overlapping memories and sensations.
The process was far more severe than he'd anticipated—three sets of experiences, three different emotional states, all compressing into a single consciousness with jarring force.
Raj staggered, then collapsed to his knees, blood trickling from his nose as the backlash hit him full force.
"Too much," he gasped, vision swimming with black spots. "Way too much."
The cloning ability had worked, but at a steep cost. His body trembled uncontrollably, muscles seizing from the strain of maintaining three separate forms. Even his enhanced physiology couldn't handle the sudden compression of triple experiences.
"Note to self," he wheezed, crawling toward the makeshift cot he'd prepared, "don't split three ways again. Not until... stronger."
Even simple tasks like setting up the basic security systems left him drained. His technomancy flickered unreliably as he tried to establish connections, requiring multiple attempts for even basic functions.
The burn on his side from Wotan's attack throbbed mercilessly. His adaptation power had helped during the battle, but it was slow, clumsy—clearly undeveloped. What should have been a minor injury still felt like fire against his skin.
"Base level powers," he muttered, finally collapsing onto the cot. "Base level idiot, thinking I could take on Wotan."
It took nearly ten minutes for the panic attack to subside, leaving him drained but clearer-headed.
"Timeline's already changing," Raj mused, watching news feeds flash across stolen screens he'd managed to set up before the panic hit.
Justice League celebrating their victory over Wotan, with no mention of outside help. Cadmus reporting a minor fire, while conveniently forgetting to mention missing specimens or security breaches. Batman, glimpsed briefly in footage, frowning at mysterious "unknown variables" that had interfered with their mission.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the stars appearing outside through the observatory's damaged dome.
"No going back," he whispered. "Only forward."
His hands still trembled slightly as he began organizing his new base, but determination steadied them. He wasn't trained for this. Wasn't prepared for the reality of superhero violence. But he'd survived.
As he worked, a thought occurred to him—something he'd been avoiding since arriving in this world.
"I need a name," he said aloud, testing the idea. "Not just Raj. Something that fits what I'm doing here."
He considered the names that resonated with him: Nexus or Arsenal.
"Arsenal," he murmured, trying it on. "Has a nice ring. Weapon master. Resource collector."
But something about it didn't quite fit. It felt too aggressive, too focused on combat when his true power lay elsewhere.
"Nexus," he tried next, the word feeling right on his tongue. "The connection point. The central hub where paths intersect."
He nodded; decision made. "Nexus it is. I'm not just a fighter—I'm a connector. Between knowledge and action. Between what should be and what is."
He glanced at his mental library of powers, where different abilities glowed like stars in their own constellation. "That's what makes me different. I can bridge powers that shouldn't connect, forge pathways between abilities others would keep separate."
The name felt appropriate for someone who stood at the crossroads between worlds, between timelines, between possibilities. Someone who connected dots that others couldn't see.
"Nexus," he repeated, more confidently this time. "A fitting declaration of independence."
And somewhere, deep in his mind, Raj—now Nexus—began sketching out his next move—more carefully this time, with the full understanding that in this world, failure meant more than just a game over screen.
It meant real consequences.
BATCAVE — JULY 4, 20:15 EDT
Batman hunched over his computer, cowl pulled back, brow furrowed in concentration. The screens before him displayed multiple angles of the Wotan battle, each frame meticulously analyzed.
"Play it again," he commanded. "Magnify sector seven, timestamp 14:32."
The footage zoomed in on a seemingly empty section of the battlefield. To the untrained eye, nothing was there. But Batman wasn't untrained.
"There," he muttered, freezing the frame. A tiny flare of light—almost imperceptible in the chaos of battle. The next frame showed Wotan's artifact vanishing, and in slow motion, the faintest outline of a hard-light construct materializing where the sorcerer's mouth should be.
"Computer, isolate energy signature."
The system hummed, analyzing. "Unknown light-based energy pattern detected. No match in Justice League database."
A comm line opened, interrupting his analysis. Superman's voice came through, tension evident. "Bruce, we have a situation at the Watchtower. Our visitor is missing."
Batman's expression darkened. "Explain."
"The security footage showed him in Monitor Room B, but it was a loop. Wonder Woman confirmed the room is empty. No sign of him anywhere on the station."
"When was he last confirmed present?"
"Before we left to fight Wotan. Around 1400 hours."
Batman immediately pulled up a split screen, comparing the Watchtower feeds with the battlefield anomalies. "The timing matches. Our missing guest and our battlefield interference occurred simultaneously."
"You think he's responsible?" Superman sounded skeptical. "But why would he help us against Wotan?"
"He's playing a longer game," Batman replied, fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard. "What do we know about him?"
Not much," Superman admitted. "Raj Bansal was rescued by me from falling while he was in a coma coming out of that Rainbowy portal. No identification beyond a wallet with his name. No record."
"That we know of," Batman corrected. "Did J'onn get anything before he awoke?"
"Nothing substantial. His mind was... unusual. Protected somehow."
Alfred appeared at Batman's shoulder, setting down a cup of tea. "Trouble, sir?"
"Our mysterious guest has gone missing, and I believe he was also at the Wotan battle," Batman explained tersely. "He's enhanced—stronger than he appears."
"And the young masters?" Alfred inquired.
"Let them have their team," Batman said grimly. "But quietly increase security at all League facilities. Our unknown friend has demonstrated they can bypass our defenses without triggering alarms."
Batman pulled up the doctored video feed from the Watchtower, analyzing its construction. "Whoever this is, they have skills. This video loop would fool most systems."
He pulled up another screen—Cadmus security logs showing a system breach and a cryptic message left behind.
"'Today's forecast: cloudy with a chance of freedom,'" Batman read aloud, eyes narrowing. "The same day Robin and the others were there. This is no coincidence."
"What's our next move?" Superman asked.
"Find him. But carefully. If he wanted to harm us, he could have done so already." Batman leaned back, studying the freeze-frame of the barely-visible light construct. "They're clearly talented, but inexperienced. Those light constructs give them away."
"They?" Superman questioned.
"A theory," Batman replied cryptically. He typed a command, bringing up a new file labeled "NEXUS."
Superman raised an eyebrow. "Nexus?"
Batman paused, frowning slightly at the name that had come to his lips unbidden. Where had that come from? "A working codename. He's positioned himself at the nexus of multiple events—Wotan, Cadmus, possibly more we don't know about yet."
"I'll alert the others," Superman said, ending the communication.
In the shadows of the Batcave, the world's greatest detective began piecing together the first clues about the mysterious new player who had chosen July 4th—Independence Day—to make their presence known. A player they'd unwittingly brought into their own headquarters, who had been watching them all along.
Batman pulled up one final image—a hospital scan of their guest, showing him still unconscious in the medical bay yesterday. The date stamp read July 3rd, 22:17.
"So, Raj what's your play?"" he murmured to himself.
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