Chapter Text
Emrys
Merlin
“Mer-lin”
White blinding light.
“Arthur?”
***
Central City ~ 20:00 Friday 13th October 2025
“Reporting live from Central City. Folks, the situation out here is not looking good. Mayor Buren has officially issued her first red alert since coming into office. “
“If I’m being honest, Andy, she should have issued it two hours ago when the central library went up in flames or when the flash got…”
Bruce barked into the comms, gripping at Clark’s suit to prevent himself from falling to his untimely death.
“Flash.”
“Flash. Status report now.”
Worrying silence answered. Bruce was beginning to panic now. Barry hadn’t replied since he first pressed his JL distress beacon.
“Superman, can you get us there any faster?”
They were travelling just slower than a sonic boom, and Bruce knew that if he wasn’t in Clark’s arms, Superman would have been at the scene four minutes ago.
“Not if you want the skin on your face to remain there, B.” Clark’s face was cloaked in concern; it was very rare that a member of the league pressed their panic button, probably something to do with hero ego over their own territories of protection. If Flash had felt the need to call all the League to the scene, whatever was waiting there for them couldn’t be good.
Bruce was beginning to see just how ‘not good’ the situation waiting for them was.
Pillars of smoke rose over the city; he could have sworn that two days ago, when he visited, there had been skyscrapers smothering the skyline.
Through his thoughts, he heard Clark swear over his shoulder. Just as he was about to turn his head to look at what had thrown the alien off, he found himself spinning. In that second, a beam of blue light? Electricity maybe? hit Clark straight in the back, where he himself had been a few seconds ago.
“Superman, get me to the ground. I will try to find Flash, and you focus on finding the source of that lightning.” Bruce looked down at the ground of rubble, making out the shapes of Diana and Hal; they seemed to be frozen, looking up at the grey clouds of smoke in the sky.
“Already ahead of you there, B.” Bruce turned to look; in between the flashes of blue light, a dark silhouette could be seen floating in the clouds of smoke, holding a… walking stick? A wand?
Tapping into the comm in his ear, “Alright, I’ve had enough of this magic show. Wonder Woman, get yourself and Green Arrow as close to that flying Harry Potter as you can. Superman, get me to an advantage point above the city and find…”
Before he could even finish his commands, pain shot up the side of his ribs, white- hot and electric. He could feel agonising buzzing all up his left side. It felt as though he had been strapped to a live battery. Maybe if the burning pain had hit his head a few seconds later, he would have realised that he was also falling.
A thousand feet. With no backup plan and no time.
***
Watchtower ~ 22:00 Friday 13th October 2025
Clark lurched up, gasping, throat raw and lungs screaming. As though someone had shoved two tonnes of kryptonite down his mouth and left it there for him to suck on.
Stark white walls burned his eyes, and the faint hum of medical monitors anchored him to reality. A pleasant warmth from the UV lamps directly above him allowed him to take a deep breath. He was at the watchtower, unfortunately, in the medical wing. But still at base.
This was good; if he had been taken back here, that meant that the others, that Batman, had been able to end that fight and get all the injured back to base.
Except no.
No.
Bruce had fallen with him. Over 1,000 feet, Clark could survive that easily, but his human teammate? He wouldn’t even survive a quarter of that.
Pulling the cover off himself, he stumbled his way over to the door, down the hallway, and straight to the other med bay windows. Heart pounding, he took in the bodies led out in the main bay.
Diana?
Barry?
Hal?
How were they all injured, unconscious? If no one had been able, how did any of them get back?
Continuing to look around the room, relief hit him, almost pushing him off balance. Bruce was there, led, bandaged up almost to the point of being a knock-off mummy. Any other time, Clark would have laughed at Batman being swaddled like a Halloween costume, but deep-set guilt hit his chest.
Bruce had fallen from his arms.
Sudden footsteps hit his ears, steady and muted, Oliver.
“Are they going to be okay?” Clark asked, voice raw and tight.
Oliver came up to his right to join him in looking through the window at their injured teammates.
“They will all live.” He replied, eyes fixed on the four of them. ”Bruce will be fine. Arthur caught him before he hit the water, and you took the brunt of the magic twice, not him. It looks worse than it is. Two bruised ribs and a broken collarbone. I don’t know how to wrap necks.” He smiled warily. “So I wanted to be safe, not sorry. Diana got blasted by that light and didn’t get back up. Same with the other two. Barry’s the worst off, exposed to that magic for two hours. Zatanna spent an hour on him alone trying to reverse the effects.”
Clark let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, but unease still clung to his gut. Something in Oliver’s voice set his nerves on edge.
“So it’s confirmed to have been magic then.”
Oliver sighed deeply, “Yes, but unlike any I have ever seen before. You were defeated within minutes, almost seconds. Arthur and I only had time to get you all out of there. We don’t know what's left of Central, or who did it.”
A silence fell upon the two of them, thick and oppressive. All Clark could focus on was the constant reassuring beep of his friends’ heartbeat monitors - a fragile reminder of how close they had come. He goes to speak, but Oliver cuts him off.
“Zatanna said it felt… ancient.”
“The spell?”
“No, the magic itself.”