Victor Stone had resigned himself to the fact that he was completely alone in the world. He had comrades, but they were completely organic. He had people he'd consider calling 'friend', but they were organic as well. They had secret identities. They...
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It was utterly embarrassing to be carried throughout the Hall of Justice, especially by someone Harper couldn't recall ever meeting before. She missed the security of her wheelchair and the independence it gave her, and now more than ever she wished that it had been dragged into the wormhole with her.
"So, who are you exactly?" She asked in a half-hearted attempt to break the awkward silence. "Clark seemed to know you, but I don't think we've ever met."
Veran looked slightly taken back by the question, but quickly recovered. "We've definitely met. Well...I know the taller, broader, stronger and overall more attractive version of you. Are you perhaps an older clone?"
Harper's mind blanked. She had no idea what he could be referring to, and so she resorted back to her original enquiry. "I asked first."
"Surely you've at least heard of me? Prince Veran. Ocean Master of Atlantis, commander of her armies and protector of the seven seas." At the oblivious expression that remained on Harper's face, Veran furrowed his brow. "Heir to the throne of Atlantis, son of King Orin and Queen Camille...?"
A gasp of air shivered through Harper's lungs. Orin was Aquaman's Atlantean name. "Arthur has a son?"
Veran whistled. "Either you were struck on the head rather viciously, or you have been residing under a boulder for a long period of time."
The crowned prince turned left, stepping into a large room that Harper wasn't aware had even existed. Inside stood a few members of this mysterious new 'Justice League', most of which Harper still couldn't recognise. One was a mammoth of a man; incredibly tall and bulging with so much muscle that even his combat shirt couldn't hide it. He was speaking to a girl with long blonde hair and a familiar 'S' symbol on her chest. They didn't pay much attention to Veran as he entered but Martian Manhunter, who had been sitting in the corner, immediately hovered towards them.
"J'onn...thank god. What the hell's going on around here?" Harper sighed with relief. It was comforting to see a familiar face that hadn't changed. Truly, he hadn't aged even nearly as much as Clark had; perhaps due to the fact that this green humanoid body wasn't his true form. He could shapeshift at will, and so growing old was a fluid concept to him. At least as far as appearance was concerned.
It took only one short look for J'onn to realise who she was. He had a photographic memory, and so he could recall everything from the length of her hair to the clothes she was wearing. With his curiosity spiking, the Martian Manhunter peered deep into Harper's mind, unlocking over two centuries of memories...but only daring to look at the most recent ones. He saw her fall into their world, and immediately understood what that meant. "Experimenting with singularities, Miss Reid? It appears that you are much less careful than I initially supposed."
