The Last Test
This was the final day.
Rick Flag Sr. stood alone in the training chamber of Batman's hidden base, the air humming softly with energy and anticipation. Five days of nonstop activation, stress testing, and real combat simulations had pushed the Sandevistan far beyond theory. This wasn't training anymore—it was proof.
The cyberware was no longer something installed in him.
It was part of him.
The Sandevistan had fully integrated with his nervous system, firing signals directly from the reconstructed spine into every muscle, every reflex, every thought. Time dilation, reflex enhancement, neural acceleration—none of it felt artificial anymore. His body responded as if it had always been built this way, as if his spine had never been broken, as if the wheelchair had never existed.
Tomorrow, he would return home to North America—Louisiana.
Today was the last test.
Dr. Leslie Thompkins and Dr. Meena Dhawan stood behind reinforced glass in the observation platform alongside Batman, Robin, Mr. Terrific, and the Atom. Monitors displayed Rick's vitals in real time: neural stability perfect, heart rate controlled, no signs of rejection, no cyberpsychosis, no neural overload.
Dr. Thompkins spoke calmly into the intercom.
"Rick, this is a live-fire course. Real weapons. Real explosives. Non-lethal, but painful. You know the rules."
Rick flexed his fingers, steady and calm.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
The test began.
The moment the first gunshot echoed through the chamber, Rick activated the Sandevistan.
The world fell apart.
Sound stretched. Light bent. Bullets crawled through the air like lazy sparks. Grenades tumbled in slow arcs, their timers screaming silently. To Rick, everything around him slowed to a crawl—except himself.
He moved.
Not rushed. Not panicked. Precise.
His feet carried him forward in a blur as he sidestepped gunfire that would have torn through him seconds earlier. His reflexes fired faster than conscious thought—ducking, pivoting, striking. He disarmed targets before they could react, redirected explosions into empty corridors, and crossed the entire course in seconds of perceived time.
Blades clashed. Smart weapons locked on—and missed.
Every movement was intent.
Every action was controlled.
From the observation platform, no one spoke. Even Batman was silent, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed—not in suspicion, but in acknowledgment.
Rick cleared the final obstacle, deactivated the Sandevistan, and the world snapped back into place. Smoke lingered. Alarms fell silent.
The test was over.
Batman's voice echoed through the chamber.
"Rick Flag Sr., report to the observation platform."
Minutes later, Rick stood before them, breathing steady, posture strong—no trace of the broken man who had once rolled into this base in a wheelchair.
Batman didn't waste time.
"Tomorrow morning. 6:00 a.m. You return home. The Sandevistan is fully integrated. This was the final test."
Rick nodded once.
Batman continued, his tone absolute.
"It's time to make this official."
A document slid across the table—the non-disclosure agreement between Rick Flag Sr. and the Justice League.
Rick took it and read carefully.
The agreement was clear and airtight:
The cyberware implant restoring his mobility and granting enhanced abilities was provided by Batman.
The device implanted in place of his spine was officially designated Sandevistan.
Rick would not disclose the location of the base, the identities of the surgeons, or the involvement of any other individual—especially Robin.
No government, agency, or foreign power had the right to demand further information.
Rick was the sole recipient. No replication. No transfer.
The Sandevistan contained a failsafe: upon Rick's death, the system would permanently shut down and become inert.
The device was fused to his body. Removal while alive would be fatal and constituted a violation of his constitutional rights.
Rick didn't hesitate.
He signed.
Batman printed two copies, signing one himself and handing the other back to Rick.
"When you get home," Batman said, "find a judge you trust. File this document. Make it legally binding. Once you do, no agency can touch you."
Robin stepped forward next, holding a tablet. He tapped the screen, ran a final authorization sequence, then handed it to Batman.
Batman pressed one final command.
"Full control granted."
Robin looked directly at Rick.
"The Sandevistan now answers only to you. No one can hack it. Not even us."
Mr. Terrific added, "No metal detector or advanced scanner can detect it."
The Atom followed, "The power source will last your lifetime."
Robin spoke last, his voice quiet but firm.
"There's also mental shielding built in. Telepaths won't get inside your head. If they try, they'll feel nothing—and you'll get a warning headache."
Rick exhaled slowly.
Freedom.
Batman stepped back.
"You're done here. Train if you want. Rest if you need. Tomorrow, you go home."
The team dispersed.
Rick returned to his private room, closed the door, and stood still for a moment—feeling his body, feeling himself. Then he showered, changed into fresh clothes, and lay down on the bed.
For the first time in months, he didn't feel broken.
Minutes later, Rick Flag Sr. fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Tomorrow, he would walk out into the world again—on his own two legs.