A year after rescuing his parents from the clutches of Amanda Waller and The Suicide Squad, Ben Tennyson once again finds himself running back to where he was running away from.
It becomes more unavoidable having discovered the secret alliance of s...
"Again, I deeply apologize for the incompetence of my knights, my lady," said Sir Wilford, standing before the cloaked woman in a blue night robe.
However there was a differential factor - the cloaked woman's cloak was down, revealing her long blonde hair, so long that it had to be twisted into a knot.
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Her skin was fair, mostly hidden behind a dark brown and red outfit with stripes of gold. Her face likewise was mostly concealed by a silver mask with red outlines around the eyes. Wilford's words caught her attention as she was being checked by a doctor.
"Those knights will pay for their incompetence. They're a disgrace to us! I will not be tolerant of failure like our American factions have with that boy."
"I will have to agree, Sir Wilford," said the woman, hissing as the doctor favored her ribs. "They failed...and that abominable girl! - she was able to damage me!"
Wilford could see the damage done. As much as he hated to admit, he too had underestimated their young foes tonight. Not so much Ben Tennyson, but the girls with him. Particularly the one that had appeared in a bright flash of green, and seemingly used attributes of Tennyson's alien forms to very good effect.
Had she not been so exuberant to retaliate, the getaway might not have been so smooth. But he hadn't risen to be the First Commander Knight of the Forever Knights of London for no reason. He would often have to indulge his enemies until he found them lacking in any regard. That girl, Eunice as she was called, he eventually found lacking.
"Careful, doctor," cautioned Sir Wilford, taking a few steps forward before hesitating. "Lady Marsh-Morton was forced to defend me and as you can see the result, my lady has been injured."
"These are broken, terribly broken," said the doctor, a grey haired elderly with a sharp accusing bluntness as she continued to poke at Lady Marsh-Morton's ribs despite her hisses of pain. Her brows were wrinkled as she glared at Sir Wilford.
"Sir Wilford, I don't know what sort of miracle you expect me to perform. She has suffered fractured ribs. She should be resting, but instead you support her incredible, if not foolish indulgence at accompanying you on your future escapades."
This foolish woman! Wilford restrained himself enough not to draw at the dagger hidden in his robe. He stared at her in silence, arms interlocking before his chest. He stared her down, hard and cold. A stare intense enough to evoke a flash of fear in the elderly doctor's eyes.
