FAULT LINES
DAMIAN — THE STAFF
Damian stayed inside his dimensional space.
He didn't trust himself to leave yet.
Not after Lucifer.
Not after gods started paying attention.
The staff hovered before him, half-formed—Hextech crystal still sealed at its core, circuitry and arcane conduits spiraling outward in careful balance.
This wasn't a weapon.
Weapons were meant to be swung.
This was an answer, meant to be held back until the world had no other choice.
Damian adjusted the lattice, tightening the energy flow.
"Half," he murmured.
"Finish half… then I rest."
Time moved differently here.
He could afford to focus.
And so the world shifted.
CONNER KENT — THE AFTERSHOCK
Superboy trained like hell.
There was no other way to describe it.
The power Damian had given him—the ability to create vibrations, to fracture air and earth alike—wasn't something that could be eased into.
It demanded discipline.
Control.
Failure meant catastrophe.
The Justice League didn't allow missions. Not yet.
Instead, they isolated him in controlled environments—deserts, dead zones, reinforced pocket arenas—places where a mistake wouldn't cost lives.
Superman trained him personally.
Batman observed silently.
Wonder Woman tested his limits again and again, forcing him to fight while restraining himself.
And Conner learned something quickly:
The power responded not to strength—but to intent.
Anger made it spike.
Fear made it unstable.
Control came only when he accepted that he could destroy everything—and chose not to.
THE MONTH THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
During that same month, something else surfaced.
Lena Luthor arrived at Mount Justice.
Officially, she was there to help upgrade systems and patch vulnerabilities—something she did often for Young Justice.
Unofficially…
She found something no one else had noticed.
While optimizing genetic analysis software, she cross-referenced Superboy's DNA again.
And froze.
Because the human genetic contributor wasn't Lex.
It was Lena Luthor.
Her DNA.
Which meant only one thing.
Superboy wasn't just a clone.
He was biologically—
Superman's son.
The revelation detonated quietly.
Superman needed time.
Conner needed more.
But somehow, despite everything, it didn't destabilize him.
If anything… it grounded him.
THE UNEXPECTED SIDE EFFECT
The League discovered the Devil Fruit's other function by accident.
During a training session, Superman sparred with Conner while Batman ran diagnostics.
M'gann approached—casually, gently—trying to establish a light telepathic connection.
Not control.
Just communication.
She recoiled instantly.
"I can't get in," she said, startled.
Batman frowned.
"Explain."
She tried again.
Same result.
No pain.
No backlash.
Just… resistance.
A natural barrier.
Further tests confirmed it:
No mind control possible
No psychic overwrite
No latent mental triggers remained
Even the buried failsafes Lex had embedded—contingencies no one else had found—were simply gone.
Erased.
Not suppressed.
Destroyed.
Batman said nothing.
Superman stared at Conner like he was seeing him for the first time.
The power Damian had given him didn't just shake worlds.
It protected the self.
The core.
The mind.
CONNER — UNDERSTANDING
Later, after another brutal session, Conner sat alone.
Sweaty.
Exhausted.
Calm.
For the first time since gaining the power, he wasn't afraid of it.
He didn't know why Damian chose him.
But now he understood the weight of it.
This wasn't about being the strongest.
It was about being someone who could stop.
Someone who could hold the world in their hands—
And not crush it.
DAMIAN — STILL WORKING
Back in his dimensional space, Damian completed the final alignment of the staff's midpoint.
The structure locked in place with a soft, harmonic hum.
Half complete.
He leaned back, exhaling.
Unaware that the power he had entrusted to another was already reshaping destinies.
Unaware that the Justice League had begun to understand just how deep his foresight ran.
And unaware that somewhere in the universe, the earth itself seemed to be listening…
Waiting.