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43.44% VECTOR IN DC / Chapter 114: CHAPTER 112

Capítulo 114: CHAPTER 112

[Tom Hendricks POV] 

Tom stood in his sleek, modern kitchen, flipping pancakes with expert precision as the news played in the background. The screen flickered to show footage of his recent encounter with Sinestro, captured by daring bystanders wielding their smartphones. Tom leaned closer, his eyes fixed on the screen, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Damn, even with a mask on... I do look good on camera," he remarked, his voice tinged with amusement. He let out a short, self-assured cackle, relishing the attention his alter ego was receiving.

Gwen, his ever-present AI companion, interjected with a tone of curiosity. "Did you really have to kill Sinestro?"

Tom paused, considering the question for a moment before responding. "Not really, but I guess something about the guy just ticked me the wrong way. Sometimes a swift end is necessary."

As he continued watching the news, an interview with Superman caught his attention. The Man of Steel addressed the recent events, expressing concern over the enigmatic criminal now known as Ace. Superman declared that the Justice League was mobilizing to apprehend Ace before he spiraled out of control, potentially harming innocent civilians. Tom couldn't help but chuckle heartily at the announcement.

"Ace, really? They think I chose that symbol on my back to mimic the Ace of clubs from a deck of cards. How amusing," Tom mused aloud, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He turned to Gwen, who had become the voice of reason.

"To the world, you are now seen as a supervillain," Gwen reminded him.

Tom shrugged dismissively. "I never really cared about their opinions. Let them think what they want. My focus now is on warning the heroes about the impending Legion's Fort attack and coming up with counter measures myself."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Gwen inquired about his plan of action.

"Simple, I'll simply approach a hero and state my business. Whether they believe me or not is their choice. They won't be able to stop me if they attacked, so I'm not too concerned. But I'd prefer to avoid unnecessary fights, am not some gladiator who goes around beating up heroes. Perhaps someone like Batman would be more open to reason." Tom leaned back, his mind working through the possibilities.

Gwen expressed doubt. "There's no guarantee he'll listen to your warnings."

"I don't care if he does or not. I'm currently working on a device that will shield a select few from psychic attacks, maybe sell it on the black market when they start it up. I'll be prepared." Tom said to her as gave a confident grin. 

"You seem to always plan ahead," Gwen acknowledged.

"That's just who I am, Gwen. I learnt that from DC's most notorious opp, Reverse Flash. He was always one step ahead," Tom replied, his smirk widening. He set the table, eager to dig into his breakfast. Suddenly, a thought struck him.

"Oh, and Gwen, arrange a meeting between Ghost, the Outlaws, and the heads of each gang and mob family under me. I intend to use this upcoming crisis to our advantage."

"As you wish, sir," Gwen replied obediently. She began organizing the meeting, while Tom savored his meal, relishing the taste of both victory and anticipation.

Suddenly… A knock echoed through the silent living room of Tom's secluded residence, interrupting the tranquility of his morning routine. Perplexed, he wondered who could possibly be visiting him, as he rarely received any guests. Curiosity piqued, he approached the door, his eyes fixated on the security footage that displayed an unexpected image—a striking figure, Talia al Ghul, standing at his doorstep. 

"What the fuck does this bitch want?" Tom muttered under his breath, his irritation palpable. Despite his annoyance, he opened the door, preparing himself for the encounter with the daughter of the Demon's Head.

"How may I help you?" he asked curtly, a deep frown etched on his face.

Talia met his gaze, her eyes radiating a mix of intrigue and suppressed anger. "Good morning, Tom," she greeted him, her voice laced with a hint of both familiarity and resentment. "Don't look at me that way. If anyone should be mad, it should be me, considering what you did to me and my men last time."

Tom raised an eyebrow, his annoyance growing. "You ambushed me, and you think you have the right to be mad? You must have a few screws loose or something," he retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. He couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation at their unexpected reunion.

Talia's lips curved into a wry smile as she spoke. "Well, that was then. Why don't we bury the past in a shallow grave and pretend like it was just a bad dream."

"A bad dream for you at least." Tom said with his gaze unflinching. 

"Come on now, are you still mad about that night?"

"I'm not mad at you, per se. Just a bit nettled because you interrupted breakfast," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of playful annoyance and intrigue.

"Oh, breakfast," Talia replied. "Mind if I come in?" she asked, her request almost casual, as if they were old acquaintances catching up over a cup of coffee.

Tom couldn't help but chuckle softly at the audacity of her request. "Sure, why not? Make yourself at home," he sarcastically replied as he gestured for her to enter.

As they stepped into his casually designed living space, the air crackled with tension and unspoken agendas. 

The room was filled with a tension that hung in the air as Tom and Talia sat at the dining table, partaking in the breakfast he had offered. The clinking of cutlery against plates punctuated the silence, creating a rhythm of anticipation.

Talia's voice broke the stillness, her words soft but filled with genuine gratitude. "Thank you," she murmured, a subtle nod accompanying her expression of appreciation, as she continued to eat the breakfast he had prepared.

Tom continued to consume his meal, his focus divided between his plate and the woman sitting across from him. He couldn't shake off his curiosity, prompting him to break the silence. "So, why are you here?" he asked, his tone holding a hint of guarded intrigue.

Talia paused, her gaze briefly meeting his before returning to her food. "Well, I came to apologize for ambushing you with a group of Assassins that night and to tell you why I did so."

A flicker of disinterest crossed Tom's face as he sighed softly. "Oh, so you're finally ready to talk," he muttered with a touch of disappointment. "You don't seem like you want to know why anymore, even though you were willing to beat the answer out of every assassin that night."

A momentary hint of frustration colored Talia's features. "Well, I kind of lost interest in that and moved on to other things that needed that energy. I can't let myself wonder for too long when I could put that time to good use. But since you're offering, I don't mind listening to your reason," Tom admitted.

Talia met his gaze, her eyes holding a mix of earnestness and intrigue. "Rumors had it that you were the one who had defeated the Joker, and I found it hard to believe that a kid like you could accomplish such a feat. So, my father had me test you."

A hint of a wry smile tugged at the corners of Tom's lips. "So, what was your answer?" he inquired, taking a sip of orange juice.

"It only led me to more questions rather than an answer," Talia confessed, her tone laced with both uncertainty and curiosity.

Tom's eyebrow arched in intrigue. "Okay... Questions like?" he probed, genuinely intrigued by her perspective.

Talia paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Why is someone as strong as you trying so hard to keep a low profile and live an ordinary life?" she asked with confusion and genuine curiosity clearly audible in her voice.

A moment of contemplation passed before Tom replied, his expression remaining unreadable. "Well, that's my business, but if you really want an answer... I can't give you one because you already have it," he replied cryptically.

Talia's eyes widened in surprise. "Which is?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued by his response.

"I just want to live an ordinary life," Tom stated matter-of-factly, his voice holding a trace of conviction.

Talia couldn't contain her disbelief and burst into a short laughter. However, as she glanced at Tom's unreadable expression, her laughter faltered. "Wait, you aren't kidding," she realized, her voice laced with astonishment.

A flicker of intensity gleamed in Tom's eyes as he met her gaze, his voice steady and resolute. "Yup, that's your answer," he confirmed, leaving no room for doubt.

Talia's skepticism lingered, her voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. "You can't fool me. I saw the bloodlust in your eyes and the ecstasy you derived from your barbaric manner of killing. 

Tom's eyes hardened, a veil of seriousness descending upon him. "You think you saw bloodlust in my eyes that night," he said calmly, his voice tinged with a hint of darkness. "But you didn't see the whole picture. You saw a glimpse of who I could be, not who I am now."

Talia leaned forward, captivated by his words, her curiosity growing with each passing moment. "Then who are you now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tom took a moment to collect his thoughts, his gaze focused yet distant, as if he were searching for the right words. "I am someone who is battling with darkness, who has danced on the edge of despair," he began. "But I have chosen to forge a different path, one that wouldn't lead me down that road. I strive to live an ordinary life not because I am devoid of darkness, but because I refuse to let it define me."

Talia's eyes widened as she listened intently, the pieces of the enigmatic puzzle that was Tom slowly coming together. "So, you seek redemption from your mistakes," she whispered, a mixture of awe and understanding in her voice.

Tom nodded, a hint of determination gleaming in his eyes. "Redemption, perhaps. But also a chance to rebuild, to create something new. I refuse to be bound by the expectations of others, by the titles they try to bestow upon me."

Talia remained silent, a newfound respect blossoming within her. She had expected a villain, a monster driven solely by darkness. But what she found before her was a complex individual, one who had walked through tribulations and emerged with a different purpose.

After a moment of contemplation, Talia's gaze met Tom's, her voice carrying a mix of sincerity and caution. "My father won't be satisfied with your answer," she warned. "He will want you to join our cause, to embrace the legacy of the League of Assassins."

A flicker of defiance flashed across Tom's face, his resolve unwavering. "Your father's cause may have its merits, but I have found my own path. I won't be swayed by his persuasion," he declared with a firm tone.

Talia studied him, admiration mingling with apprehension. She had come seeking answers and had discovered someone who defied her expectations. In that moment, she realized that their paths, though different, held a common thread—and might cross once again.

=========

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Capítulo 115: CHAPTER 113

As the morning sun cast its gentle glow across the breakfast table, Tom's eyes met Talia's piercing gaze. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the tension that hung between them. Talia, elegant and composed, leaned forward, her voice laced with conviction.

"Tom, you know the significance of my father's cause. The League of Shadows offers you power, purpose, and a chance to reshape the world," she entreated, her words carrying the weight of generations. "Join us, and together we can bring balance and justice to a society drowning in its own decadence."

With a flicker of defiance in Tom's eyes, he met Talia's gaze. "Like I said earlier… Your father's cause may have its merits, but I have found my own path," he declared, his voice firm, and he didn't seem like he would budge. "I won't be swayed by his persuasion or seduced by the allure of power."

Talia's brow furrowed, a mix of disappointment and frustration etched upon her face. She had hoped that Tom, with his unique abilities and unwavering determination, would be the missing piece in her father's grand design. But now, faced with his rejection, she grappled with conflicting emotions.

"Tom, you have the potential to be a force of change, to challenge the injustices that plague our world," she argued, her voice tinged with urgency. "Together, we can mold a future free from the corruption and greed that stains society. Join us, and we can make a difference, bring order to the chaos."

"Talia, I appreciate the depth of your conviction, but my path lies elsewhere," he responded. "Besides, I don't care about reshaping the world or any of that crap. I just want to live a free life where am not bound by any kind of rules except mine."

Talia's eyes softened, a flicker of understanding crossing her features. She had glimpsed a flicker of something different within Tom, a light that refused to be extinguished. In that moment, she realized that perhaps he had discovered something she had yet to fully comprehend.

"Tom, I respect your decision," Talia said, disappointment clearly audible in her voice. "But remember, should you ever find yourself questioning the path you've chosen, know that there will always be a place for you in the League. Also, my father won't take no for an answer. So be prepared because he would definitely come for you in due time."

As the words hung in the air, the room fell into a contemplative silence. "Am not one to start trouble but should he come looking for one, I won't sit back quietly." With a nod, Tom rose from the table, leaving the breakfast unfinished.

… 

Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, stood alone on the rooftop of the Justice League's headquarters, his emerald ring shimmering faintly in the dim light. The recent battle with Ace, a cunning and powerful criminal, weighed heavily on his mind. He had underestimated his opponent, and it had cost him dearly. The wounds on his body served as a painful reminder of his failure.

As he stared out into the city below, a seething rage simmered within him. How could he have been so foolish? He prided himself on his ability to protect the innocent, but instead, he had put himself in harm's way and had to be saved by the same criminal. The bitter taste of resentment filled his mouth as he thought about the events that had transpired.

But what troubled him most was the death of Sinestro. Sinestro had been his rival for years, a constant thorn in his side. Their battles were legendary, and although Sinestro was far from a good person, Hal couldn't help but feel that he deserved better than the brutal execution that Ace had subjected him to. The loss of his adversary left a void within him, a sense of unfinished business.

Lost in his thoughts, Hal was startled as Superman's voice broke through his contemplation. "Hal, what's wrong?" the Man of Steel asked, concern etched on his face. "Are you still thinking about the incident the other day?"

Hal turned to face Superman, his expression a mix of anger and self-doubt. "Yeah, I can't shake it off, Clark," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I let my guard down, and Ace took advantage of it. And then... Sinestro."

Superman placed a reassuring hand on Hal's shoulder. "Hal, listen to me," he said in a gentle tone. "We all make mistakes. It's what we do afterward that matters. You're a great Lantern, one of the best I've seen. Don't let this setback define you."

Hal sighed, his gaze falling to the ground. "I know, Clark, but it's hard. Sinestro and I had a history, a rivalry. He was a formidable opponent, and I can't believe he's gone."

Superman's voice softened. "I understand, my friend. Losing someone, even if they were an enemy, can be difficult to process. But we'll find Ace, and we'll make sure he pays for what he's done. The League is on it."

Hal looked up, meeting Superman's unwavering gaze. The weight of his failure still lingered, but he found a glimmer of hope in his friend's words. "Thanks, Clark," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "I won't let this defeat consume me. We'll bring justice to Ace and honor Sinestro's memory."

Superman smiled, a beacon of encouragement. "That's the spirit, Hal. We're in this together, as a team."

As Hal Jordan stood there, surrounded by the humbling presence of Superman, a flicker of optimism ignited within him. The road ahead would be arduous, but he knew he wasn't alone. With the support of his fellow heroes, he would rise above his mistakes, reclaim his confidence, and bring justice to those who threatened the safety of the world.

And so, with a renewed determination, Green Lantern turned his gaze back to the city skyline, his emerald ring gleaming brightly. The battle wasn't over yet, and he was ready to face it head-on, knowing that the Justice League stood united, ready to defend the innocent and ensure that the light of justice would never fade.

… 

[Carmine Falcone's POV] 

I sat in my dimly lit office, the weight of Gotham City's criminal underworld resting on my shoulders. The city never slept, and neither did I. My thoughts were consumed by the intricate web of power and influence I had woven, but tonight, there was a different kind of urgency in the air.

As I delved deeper into my thoughts, an email notification chimed on my computer screen, demanding my attention. I clicked it open, my eyes scanning the message. An invitation to a meeting held by the enigmatic figure known only as Ghost. Every crime boss under his wing or in partnership with him was to be present. It was a meeting I couldn't afford to miss.

I summoned my assistant, a trusted confidant who had served me faithfully for years. "Clear my schedule," I commanded, my voice steady and authoritative. "I have an important meeting to attend in a few days. Make sure nothing interferes."

My assistant nodded, a look of curiosity mingling with concern. "May I ask who the meeting is with, sir?" he ventured cautiously.

I walked over to the window of my office, gazing out at the bustling city below. The night lights flickered like stars, hiding the secrets that lurked in the shadows. "It's a meeting arranged by Ghost," I replied, my voice laced with a mix of reverence and caution. "Every crime boss associated with him will be present."

My assistant's eyes widened, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "Ghost? That's... quite an invitation, sir," he stammered, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

I turned to face him, my expression firm and resolute. "Indeed, it is," I affirmed, my tone leaving no room for doubt. "Since our partnership with Ghost, our business has flourished. Our profits have tripled, and the benefits have far outweighed any reservations."

A pause hung in the air as my assistant absorbed my words. "But sir," he began tentatively, "Ghost's power and activities are shrouded in mystery. How can we be certain of his intentions?"

A wry smile curved my lips as I regarded my loyal assistant. "That's the thing, my friend," I said, my voice filled with a mixture of admiration and caution. "Ghost operates in the shadows, his methods known only to a chosen few. But his reputation in the criminal underground speaks for itself. He wields a level of power that none of us can fully comprehend."

My assistant's eyes flickered with a mix of fear and intrigue, his curiosity getting the better of him. "And this meeting... what do you hope to achieve?" he inquired, his voice barely above a whisper.

I stepped closer, a glint of ambition gleaming in my eyes. "The meeting ahead will not only benefit our business, but it will also solidify our position within Ghost's realm of influence," I explained, my voice resonating with determination. "I am willing to set aside everything else that evening and attend this gathering. The location, an exclusive hotel in Las Vegas, is a strategic choice. It offers safety and secrecy, away from the prying eyes of Batman."

My assistant nodded, his trust in me evident. "I understand, sir. I will make the necessary arrangements," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of loyalty and curiosity.

As my assistant left the room, I turned back to the window, my mind filled with anticipation and ambition. The meeting with Ghost held the promise of even greater power, the chance to expand my empire further into the realm of the unknown. It was a gamble worth taking, for within the shadows, true power awaited those with the courage to seize it. 

The cityscape below seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of Gotham's underbelly, reminding me of the risks and rewards that came with my position. Ghost had proven himself to be a formidable ally, and aligning myself with his enigmatic persona had opened doors previously inaccessible. Yet, as I peered into the darkened streets, a flicker of unease tugged at the corners of my mind.

Was this meeting truly an opportunity, or did it carry hidden dangers? Ghost's intentions remained shrouded in secrecy, his motives unclear. But I had come too far to let fear deter me. I had built an empire on calculated risks, and this was just another move in the grand chessboard of power.

 ===============

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