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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The moment Victor's eyes locked onto hers rage swept across the cyborg's face; which was only amplified when the second Harper lurked into sight. The woman standing beside him must have sensed this unease, because she immediately dropped her wrench and followed Victor's gaze.
"Wh-Who's she?" The girl asked in a hushed town. She looked almost too embarrassed to ask.
"Another clone." Victor growled in response, but most of his hatred was surprisingly directed towards the blonde. "I thought you promised that you'd be the last one."
"I am." She replied coolly. There was something hidden beneath the steely surface of her eyes though - an indescribable sorrow.
Victor glared at her with severe distrust, and that was when Martian Manhunter finally appeared; once again without anyone having see which direction he'd entered from. "She's telling the truth, Victor. This Harper is not of our time."
The cyborg's expression never changed from its apparent anger. In fact, the shadows on his face only grew more intense. "Is this some kind of fucking joke? It ain't funny."
"I could transfer her memories to you, if that's the proof that you require." Martian Manhunter offered with a rather bland tone. Harper was admittedly surprised. He was always so considerate in her time, but now he almost sounded bored of the constant reassurance he had to give people.
"Nah, that won't prove shit." Victor snapped back. Harper was admittedly surprised at his choice of vocabulary. Especially in a serious situation such as this. It wasn't like she'd never heard Victor swear before, but he used to utilise it a bit more sparingly. He just didn't seem to care anymore. "Those memories could have been implanted, just like every other clone."
"Someone implanted memories of me travelling through time?" Harper scoffed. "Come on, Vic, you know that's a bit of a stretch."
"Whether you believe her or not is irrelevant. We must make every effort to return her to her era." J'onn insisted with a slight hint of authority in his tone that Harper had never heard from him before. "Without Doctor Fate around anymore, we'll have to do it ourselves."
"What happened to Doctor Fate?" Harper suddenly asked; curiosity switching her fairly normal pitch to something a little higher.
"That does not concern you." J'onn swiftly retorted, obviously regretting that he had brought the subject up at all. "The less you know about our time, the better."
"I'll handle it." The blonde 'Harper' spoke. "You don't have to worry."
J'onn crossed his arms, and though there was scepticism written across his face, he nodded nonetheless. "Let me know if you require any assistance."
As the toned woman lead Harper out of the room, she could feel Victor's gaze still scorching through her. There was so much pain in that one small look, that even without seeing it, she knew that he was hurting. Speaking to him wouldn't help though, not while he was still trying to process the current situation. Instead Harper followed slowly behind the taller, broader version of herself until they were both inside a fairly large room; filled to the brim with advanced tech, but none of it had been crafted into anything. Not a suit like Harper's, or a security system...not even a weirdly progressive toaster. Nothing. It was almost as if it was all there just for show.
