The arrival of the police was a bitter reality check in the wrecked industrial area. The flickering blue and red lights bathed the scene in stark, disturbing colors, lighting up the mountain of wreckage that buried the transformed Conner and the unconscious figure of Umbra. The first responders' initial bewilderment soon turned into stunned silence as they absorbed the extent of the devastation, the abnormal burn marks on the surrounding buildings, and the lingering sense of otherworldly energy that still hung in the air.
The Justice League followed closely, the Zeta-Tube glow revealing itself a brief distance away from the wreckage. Batman's towering figure was the first to step forth, his eyes scanning the scene with a grim intensity, drinking in the destruction and the openly traumatized figures of Young Justice. Superman was next, his face a combination of worry and a growing horror as his eyes settled upon the ruined warehouse, the possible fate of the clone carrying his genetic material a burden in his heart. Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, and Black Canary came next, their faces creased with concern and a unspoken call for explanation.
Debriefing was quick and merciless. Under Batman's withering questioning, the teen heroes recounted what had unfolded inside the warehouse, the covert manipulation of Klarion, the unleashing of Umbra, and the ghastly metamorphosis of Conner. The sentences spilled out, disjointed and laced with guilt and a raw sense of failure. The burden of their failure to save Conner, of creating the emerald beast, weighed heavily in the air, its presence so real that even the stoic attitude of Batman could not completely cover.
Superman heard in silence, his eyes on the mountain of debris, his silence worse than any indictment. The possibility of a being of his genetic stock to become so destructive a force was a grim one, a shadow cast upon the very concept of Superboy's existence. The faith he had cautiously started to put in the young clone now seemed tenuous, at risk from this cataclysmic twist of fate.
Wonder Woman provided words of reassurance, her Amazonian acumen balanced by a stark perception of the seriousness of the situation. "You were subjected to a mighty magical danger, children. The powers of chaos cannot be kept in check so easily. But we must know how this transformation was brought about, and what implications it holds for the future.
Black Canary, her worry clear in her tone, concentrated on the psychological cost the mission had exacted. "You did what you could. But you have to realize that sometimes, no matter how hard we try, the result is not as we wish it to be. The death of a friend is a very heavy burden.
Michael and Zatanna also spoke of their own battles with Klarion's residual influence and Umbra's increased power, the pernicious quality of chaotic magic and the unexpected repercussions of their efforts to intervene. Michael's residual instability with Libriomancy, the close-to-catastrophic event during the tactical simulation, now appeared a dark portent of the chaos that had transpired.
Batman's questioning was direct, homing in on the details of the change, the extent of the chaotic energy, and the degree of control that Umbra had exerted. He questioned with pointed precision, asking for any miscalculations of tactics, any lost opportunities. The specter of doubt loomed large over his eyes as he regarded Michael, the possibility of magical manipulation among their own troops a stark concern.
"Priority now," said Batman, his tone icy and determined, "is containment. We need to determine the full capability of the emerald beast and come up with a plan for its neutralization. The potential for mass destruction is immense."
The initial reaction was one of fevered activity. The site was cordoned off, and secured by both local police and sentinels of the Justice League. Forensic units, those expert in magical residue and bio-hazardous material, set to work on the painstaking process of examining the remains. The Justice League launched a worldwide search for any sign of Klarion, his ongoing presence a clear and present threat.
For Young Justice, going back to the Cave of Secrets was serious and muted. The normal fun and joking were nowhere to be found, instead replaced by a somber silence and the unspoken burden of their defeat. What was once a location of friendship and development in the training area now seemed a cold reminder of their fallen friend. The holographic screens, once ablaze with training sims, now flashed with news cycles reporting on the enigmatic warehouse explosion and the investigation that continued.
The League imposed an interval of debriefing and psychological assessment on the teen heroes. The emotional trauma of having observed Conner's mutation and being compelled to leave him behind was palpable, and the possibility of lasting emotional damage was a valid concern.
Michael and Zatanna were put under close examination. The League, especially Batman, pushed them for deeper comprehension of uncontrolled magic, its corrupting influence, and the residual danger of Klarion. The ordeal of Michael's uncontrolled Libriomancy was brought up again, the specter of question as to his mastery and susceptibility hanging over their encounters.
Superman was aloof, his sadness and worry unrevealed but present. He loitered for hours above the wreckage, his eyes locked on the buried warehouse, the possibility of the loss of one more Kryptonian-related individual a crushing weight. The delicate trust he had put in Superboy now appeared broken, replaced by wariness and uncertainty.
In the stillness of his own solitude deep in his quarters inside the Cave, Michael relived the experience in his mind, the brief scarlet flash in Conner's eyes a constant reminder of their failed attempt. The weight of his own prior manipulation at the hands of Klarion, the apprehension of his own still-precarious stability, added to his sense of failure. He had tried to direct and safeguard these youthful heroes, but his own demons had apparently had a hand in this disastrous result. The orchestra of responsibility had opened, and the wounds of emerald would stand as an ever-present reminder of the high cost of their initial ventures into the heroic sphere. The specter of doubt, thrown by their failure and the ever-present danger of uncontrollable magic, hung heavy over their future.