At Gotham Academy in one of the classrooms Ethan tapping his pencil against his book.
He was impatient.
He wanted to be out of here already.
He wanted to check on the progress of his program.
See how much he has managed to dig up, but most of all he wanted more he wanted another power.
He wanted to learn more about Meta humans.
He had read the Doctors thesis from back to front at least twice since he had left the science room.
Dr.
Eduardo Dorado, he seemed to be the leading expert in the field of meta humans but honestly that wasn’t saying much since it was all considered a pseudoscience at this point.
While, Eduardo had managed to discovered the gene.
He had not been able to link it to any unusual abilities, Though Ethan was able to come up with dozens of different possibilities as to why that was.
The most likely cause being that the Meta human he experimented on had an inactive ability or perhaps a passive one that did not present during basic scans.
A lack of funding was also a probability he doubted Dr Eduardo even had half the equipment that Barbara had managed to supply to the science lab.
He would need to have a conversation with a good doctor at some point, but for now he needed to think of other things.
For example, what was he going to do now?
He had the potential to become one of the most powerful beings on this planet.
He could be the greatest hero or the greatest super villain, but in all honesty neither appealed to him.
This was a difficult decision, Ethan had spent so much of his life as a mere shade of humanity.
He was a mockery of them, despite his genius, he had nothing else in common with them.
Until now he’d lived life on mute, he had lived life not wanting anything.
But now he’s in a position where he can get anything he wants all he needs to do is get more powerful.
Yet, despite that knowledge, he couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted.
In fact, he could feel the passion and interest he had ever since he first stole the power start to fade away.
Was he really going to go back to a lifeless husk?
No, he didn’t want that.
But at the moment there seemed to be no alternative.
‘Maybe I should be a hero…’ he considered.
He had seen the praise and adoration that heroes like Superman got.
Perhaps that would give him a greater understanding of people.
The teacher called on him suddenly.
“Ethan.
You look like you are not paying attention.
Why don’t you answer this?” She turned to the board and wrote down a long equation with multiple steps.
“If you can solve that, you can go back to daydreaming.” Her voice was pointed.
Ethan looked at it for only a second before speaking.
“The answer is forty-eight.”
The teacher frowned.
“And how exactly did you arrive at that so quickly?”
“Because the second and fourth terms cancel each other out if you balance them properly.
Then you multiply what is left by six and divide by three.
It is not difficult.”
A couple of the students snickered.
The teacher’s jaw tightened and she turned away from him without saying anything else.
The bell for lunch rang and Ethan immediately stood, picked up his bag, and walked toward the door.
He was heading for the lab when the teacher called out, “Everyone.
Stay for a moment.”
He stopped at the door and turned back.
“I want to inform everyone,” she began, addressing the class, “That the Gotham Police Department is here today.
They will be questioning students throughout the day, so if you are called, cooperate fully.
There is no reason to be concerned.”
The room filled with low murmurs as students began whispering to each other.
Some asked aloud what it was about, others threw out theories.
Someone mentioned hearing about a fire.
Ethan stepped into the corridor without a word and walked calmly until he was out of sight of the classroom.
Then he turned toward the bathrooms.
He entered, checked to make sure it was empty, and locked himself in one of the stalls.
He sat down on the closed lid and began thinking.
He was not panicking.
The police showing up the day after he had killed that man in the alley was not a coincidence.
It meant they had something, but it also meant they did not have enough to come straight for him.
If they did, they would not waste their time questioning the entire student body.
They were casting a wide net.
Which meant he had left something in the alley that could be traced here.
He went through it step by step.
Shoes were clean, nothing stuck in the tread.
Trousers were fine, no tears or marks.
Shirt was fine, though there was still a blood stain on the shirt ‘Easily solvable.’ His eyes moved to the blazer.
He ran his hand along the inside lining and then the seams.
That was when he felt it.
A patch was missing.
The edge was frayed.
He could already picture the detectives matching it to whatever they had picked up in that alley.
He needed to get rid of this blazer and get another one before they came to interview him.
He stood and unlocked the stall door.
As soon as he stepped out, the door to the bathroom opened and Justin walked in with two of his friends.
“Well, well, look who it is,” Justin said.
“The scholarship case, the street rat, the junkie in training.”
His friend laughed.
“Heard your mom’s still on the pipe.”
Justin grinned.
“And your old man still too broke to keep a job.
You don’t belong here, man.
This place is for people who actually matter.”
Ethan said nothing for a moment, letting them finish.
Then he looked at Justin and spoke in a calm voice.
“You know, for someone who thinks I don’t matter, you spend a lot of time trying to get my attention, got something you want to admit Justin?”
Justin’s grin faded into a scowl.
He shrugged off his blazer and handed it to one of his friends.
“You’ve earned an ass kicking.”
Ethan slowly unbuttoned his own blazer, wrapped it around his waist, and tied the sleeves together.
“Come on then.
Show me.”
Justin stepped forward, fists up.
He threw a hard punch toward Ethan’s head.
Ethan moved to the side and let it pass.
Justin threw another, and Ethan leaned back just enough for it to miss.
Then another.
Ethan pushed his hand against Justin’s forearm to guide it past him and stepped around him entirely.
Justin swung again, but Ethan turned his body and skipped past him.
That was when he felt the shove in his back from Justin.
He let himself stumble forward into Justin’s friend, hitting him hard enough that they both went down.
“Get off him!” Justin shouted, trying to pull Ethan off.
Ethan stood, brushing himself off.
“You really taught me a lesson there, Justin.” Then he kicked him sharply in the thigh.
Justin fell down, grabbing his leg with a loud grunt.
Ethan slicked his hair back, and put on the blazer before walking past them and back into the corridor without another word.
He had an hour for lunch break that meant he could return to the science lab and check the progress of his custom software.
He just hoped that Barbara wouldn’t be there, it wouldn’t be likely, 32% chance maybe?
She had a lot of friends at the school and with that came social obligations.
Once he finished walking around the corridor, he turned into the science wing and continued going some more before he finally came to the door, still unlocked from when he broke it.
Entering inside he was glad to see that it was empty.
Heading straight to the computer, he set it up and unhid all the background processes that he had set up that morning.
*20,672…20,834…21,378 individual entries*
A smile stretch across his face.
He knew that most of these would be fake; filled with wishful fulfilment and people wanting to play hero.
But with every hundred fake ones there was bound to the real one, he just needs to look and make the best decision he could.
Opening up a separate window, he decided to start filtering the results; at the moment he would only be looking at Gotham and the surrounding areas.
He created a separate program that would take the usernames on those that had posted and link them to any social media they have.
By doing this, he was able to triangulate their location at least 83% of the time.
Ethan scrolled through the first batch of filtered results.
The usernames, locations, and posts appeared in a clean list across the screen.
He opened the first one.
“I can see at night and during the day the same way.
It’s always bright for me.
It’s terrifying.
Doctors just think I’m crazy.
Ethan typed into his notes: Enhanced vision — possible constant low-light adaptation, no need for pupil dilation.
Potential retinal mutation.
Located: Burnley District, Gotham.
He marked it as low priority.
Useful in some situations, but not exactly what he wanted right now.
The next post was shorter.
“Every phone that gets near me stops working.
No calls, no texts.
They just freeze up.
Even radios cut out.”
He leaned back for a moment, thinking.
Then typed: Electromagnetic field generation — likely low-level EM disruption.
Potential to interfere with electronics at close range.
Located: New Troy, Metropolis.
Medium priority.
Interfering with technology could have uses, but it would also be obvious in public.
The third was longer.
“My legs don’t feel right.
They stretch.
My arms too.
I fell down the stairs and bounced halfway across my living room.
My mom screamed.
I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
He wrote: Elastic tissue — spring-like kinetic storage.
Potential enhanced jumping or striking force.
Located: Coventry, Gotham.
The next entry made him pause.
“I almost killed a guy last night.
He shoved me, I swung, and my fist almost went through his chest.
I didn’t mean it.
I didn’t know I could do that.”
Ethan typed: Superhuman strength — likely uncontrolled, possibly triggered by adrenaline.
Dangerous to others without restraint.
Located: Southside, Gotham.
High potential if controllable.
Also consider similarity to hyperadrenal?
Combination of meta powers possible?
Then he clicked the last one in the list.
“I think I’m the reincarnation of Christ.
I can heal people when I touch them.
Cuts close up.
Bruises fade.
My aunt’s arthritis went away.
I don’t know why me.”
He wrote: Regenerative healing by touch — unknown origin.
Possible psychosomatic religious delusion present.
Located: Bakerline, Metropolis.
He sat back and looked over the five notes he’d made so far.
Out of thousands of entries, only a handful so far had sounded like they might be worth pursuing.
He also had to consider these abilities might not be meta in nature, and if that’s the case, there’s a high probability that he would not be able to absorb them.
As he considered this, his ears twitched.
Three steps of footsteps all coming towards him likely a teacher and the two police officers, based on the fact that one of them was clearly overweight, much more so than any other teacher at the school.
Not surprising.
He was the street-rat after all.
If the police were asking for anyone who knew that drug dealer or was associated with him in some way, then they would likely point the finger at him.
He once again closed down all of the programs he set up and left them running in the background.
A couple seconds later he brought up some random science work and pretended to be working on it.
He did it just in time for the teacher to knock on the door and then walk inside.
Ethan turned around in this chair and looked as the principal and what he assumed were the two police officers walked inside.
“Good afternoon, Mr Kane,” the principal said as he came inside.
“Good afternoon sir, is there anything I can help you with?” Ethan asked.
The principal stepped forward first, clasping his hands together.
“Mr Kane, your teacher may have already told you, but the Gotham Police Department is here today to ask some questions.” He gestured to the two people behind him.
“This is Detective Harvey Bullock, and Detective Renee Montoya.”
Ethan turned in his chair and nodded to each in turn.
“Detective Bullock.
Detective Montoya.”
“Kid,” Bullock greeted with a small nod.
“Ethan,” Renee said plainly.
“I’m happy to answer any questions I can,” Ethan replied with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Thanks, Principal,” Bullock said, glancing at the door.
“We can take it from here.”
The principal didn’t move yet.
“Ethan is seventeen.
He has the right to have a guardian present during any interrogation.”
“It’s not an interrogation,” Renee said.
“We’re just asking a few questions.”
“Regardless, I believe it wouldn’t be appropriate—”
“Sir, I appreciate your support, but I have nothing to hide.” Ethan’s voice cut in smooth and certain.
“I’m fine speaking with Detectives Montoya and Bullock alone.” He smiled again.
The principal hesitated for a moment, then said, “Very well,” and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Bullock pulled a notepad from his coat pocket and flipped it open.
“Can’t imagine having to spend every day in this stuffy prep school.
Your teacher sounds like a pain in the ass.”
Renee rolled her eyes slightly but didn’t say anything.
“They’re not so bad,” Ethan said, leaning back slightly.
“How can I help you?”
“First thing,” Bullock said, pointing at him with his pen, “whatever’s said in this conversation stays in this conversation.
This is an active investigation.
You repeat any of it outside, you could be arrested for obstruction of justice and impeding a police investigation.”
“Jesus, Harvey, give the kid a break,” Renee said with a huff.
“He’s not gonna tell anyone.”
“Yeah, yeah.
Sorry, kid.
I’m just bustin’ your balls,” Bullock said, smirking before flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, Ethan Kane, can you tell me where you were yesterday between 4 p.m.
and 8 p.m.?”
Ethan looked thoughtful for a moment.
“I was here in science club after school finished.
After that, I headed home.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?” Bullock asked.
“Barbara Gordon,” Ethan replied.
“She was with me during science club.
After that, I’m afraid not.
I walked home alone.”
“Where do you live?” Bullock asked.
“East End,” Ethan said.
“Pretty rough area for a Gotham Academy kid.”
“I’m here on a scholarship.”
“Ah, resident genius,” Bullock chuckled.
Renee reached into her pocket and took out a photograph, sliding it across the table.
“Have you ever seen this man before?”
Ethan studied the image for a moment, then shook his head.
“Never seen him, I’m afraid.
Did something happen to him?”
“Afraid so,” Renee said.
“He was murdered yesterday.”
Ethan’s brows lifted, his expression shifting to one of shock and sympathy.
“That’s…
awful.”
“And we believe the one who did it might be going to Gotham Academy,” Renee added.
Ethan leaned back slightly.
“I can’t imagine any of my classmates capable of something like that.”
“Maybe it’s all a mistake,” Bullock said with a shrug.
“But the job’s the job.
We follow all our leads.”
He scribbled something in his notepad, then looked up at Ethan.
“You know we’ve met before.
You might not remember—”
Both detectives blinked at him.
“It was fifteen years ago.
My parents had gotten into a domestic spat.
I was interviewed by child services, and one of the arresting officers was you.”
“You remember that?” Renee asked, surprised.
“You must’ve been two years old.”
Ethan allowed a faint grin.
“Scholarship student.”
Bullock cleared his throat.
“As I was saying, I know who you are, and more importantly, I know who your parents are.
They’ve got quite the record.”
“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, Detective,” Ethan replied evenly.
“I’m not insinuating anything.
But I should tell you—every person we’ve spoken to so far pointed the finger at you the moment they knew what this was about.
Any idea why that might be?”
Ethan shrugged, leaning back.
“As you said, my parents have a few issues.
The students here take it upon themselves to remind me of my origins.
I’m not surprised they’d point their fingers.”
“Creedence was a mid-level dealer close to where you live,” Renee said.
“Now, it’s unclear who his client list was, but it’s possible your parents were on there.”
“Listen, kid,” Bullock cut in, “if you got involved with this man, if he tried to hurt you ’cause your parents couldn’t pay and you ended up in an altercation, then you need to tell us.”
Renee stepped forward and pulled a chair in front of him.
“We can help you.
Keep you safe.
But not if you’re not honest with us.”
Ethan’s gaze stayed fixed on her.
“Detectives, are you suggesting that because my parents are drug users, I have some kind of link to this?”
“Well, if the shit stinks,” Bullock muttered.
“I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong,” Ethan said.
“I don’t associate with whatever my parents get up to.
I do my best not to speak with them at all.
When I’m eighteen, I plan to move out.
Getting into a fight with a dealer, let alone killing them on my parents’ behalf isn’t something I’d do.”
“You may not have had a choice,” Renee said quietly.
“I can’t help much more, Detectives.
I have no idea who this man is.
Based on your theory, it sounds like you’d be better off interrogating my parents.”
“This isn’t an interrogation,” Renee said.
“Isn’t it?” Ethan replied.
“Sorry if we seemed hard on you, kid,” Bullock said, closing his notebook.
“But we’ve got a job to do.
We’ve got what we need.”
“Harvey,” Renee said.
“Ah, yeah.
Just one more thing.
Can we take a look at your blazer?”
“My blazer?
Why?” Ethan asked.
“It’s just something we’ve been doing.
I can’t go into detail,” Bullock replied.
Ethan nodded, stood, and handed it over.
Renee held it up, running her hands along the fabric, checking the seams and cuffs.
Her eyes moved over every edge, but there was nothing, no tear, no missing patch.
“It’s clean,” she said to Harvey, handing it back.
Bullock looked back to him.
“Alright, kid.
Thanks for your time.”
“Yeah,” Renee added, giving him a small nod.
“Appreciate you talking to us.”
“Of course,” Ethan said, taking the blazer and slipping it on.
“Goodbye, Detectives.”
They gave him one last look before turning for the door and stepping out into the hall.
When the door shut, he sat back down, the polite mask slipping from his face until it was blank again.
‘One annoyance done with for now,’ Ethan thought.
He had bought himself some time, but it wasn’t much.
The detectives would keep working their way through the student body until they got to Justin, and when they did, they’d find the torn blazer on him.
During the bathroom altercation earlier, he had purposely pushed things far enough to provoke a fight.
The goal hadn’t been to hurt Justin—it had been to make the switch.
They were roughly the same size, so the blazer fit without drawing attention, even if Justin insisted that Ethan had that natural crack den smell.
Getting him into the bathroom hadn’t been difficult.
All it had taken was a direct look before leaving class.
Like the primate he was, Justin couldn’t let that slide, and he followed.
When the detectives eventually brought him in, Justin would get the full treatment.
Interrogated, pressed, and probably humiliated.
It wouldn’t take long for them to realize he wasn’t their guy.
Still, the blazer would end up in an evidence bag, and from there in a lab.
DNA analysis was inevitable.
They’d find Justin’s.
They might find Ethan’s.
He’d been careful and tried to remove everything, but there was always the chance of a missed hair or skin cell.
It wouldn’t matter much.
A popular kid’s blazer would be covered in trace DNA from countless people—friends, girlfriends, teammates.
It was lunch break now and so Ethan’s blazer would get the same treatment resulting in nothing conclusive from the police.
What was more likely was that they’d match the torn piece they had to the size and cut of the blazer it came from.
That would lead to them calling in everyone who wore that size.
Another narrowing of the field.
There was also the matter of Gotham’s street cameras.
He’d done well to avoid them while trailing Creedence, but the high he experienced afterward had dulled his discipline.
They wouldn’t have footage of him entering or leaving the alleyway, but he was certain they’d catch him moving through the surrounding streets.
He tallied the situation in his head—four pieces of evidence:
1.
The blazer
2.
Being seen in the area
3.
Most probable suspect
4.
Actual motive
It was enough to make an arrest.
The Justin ploy might buy him a few days, no more.
In that time, he needed to strip pieces off the board.
The street camera footage was first.
Those systems were almost certainly tied into a central server.
If he could get into it and corrupt the relevant files, that piece of evidence would vanish.
He’d still be their probable suspect, but without footage, they’d have nothing physical to work from.
After that, he needed to set up a fall guy.
For that, he required Creedence’s client list.
And for that, he needed to find out where Creedence had lived.
The police would be after the same thing, with better access to information.
That made time critical.
If he couldn’t get that list and tie someone else to the killing, their focus would stay locked on him.
It would only be a matter of time before they found something he had overlooked and that would mean he’d end up being hunted.
This was a game.
A smile stretched across his face.
And he would win.
(AN: The game is on, who is going to win our boy Ethan?
Or perhaps the fine fellows of the Gotham Police Department?
What about Iron Row?
What about any heroes that stalk the streets of Gotham?
Will they get involved.
Anyway I’m trying to make this exciting and I hope I’m succeeding.
I’m at nearly 30k words now for this story.
It’s fun to write.
Hope you enjoy it)
Support if you want.