The Strange #137

Gray's hideout

"This is going to take a while...." I muttered under my breath as I watched the spider-shaped robot rotating a spherical contraption with its front limbs, welding the sphere's cracked surface back together.

The spider-shaped robot was a drone prototype that I called Sentry Drone and outfitted with more limbs than the Sentry Spider for flexibility purposes.

It looked similar to the latter except for the extra limbs and the difference in function and toolset. It had no weapons, only various power tools that would give it the ability to take over simple tasks around the hideout.

I did not face many problems with building the Drone as I already had a similar working model and only needed to add the extra limbs, remove the weapons, and give it the power tools.

However, I did face a problem with the Drone's software, as programming it proved many times more complicated than its murder-happy cousin, the Sentry Spider.

The Spider Sentries only needed to know three things, how to move, shoot, and who to shoot, while the drones required specific programming to achieve complicated tasks that I'd do myself, like repairs and assembling machines.

In other words, I needed to either program the specifics of every task into the Drone's software, manage the drones myself, or create an AI that could do just that, which was out of my reach for now.

'That gives me an idea...' I mused, smiling as I browsed my skills and perks to see if I had any immediate solutions, and inspiration for something completely different immediately hit me like a ten-ton hammer.

'Machine Morhping...!' I concluded as I activated my personal computer power and began drawing the schematics for my new toy but immediately stopped as I noticed the time.

'It's about time Patrick and the others move to the theatre now... I should see them...' I sighed, deactivating my computer power, before giving my Drone one last look and heading for the exit.

It's been a week and two days since my conversation with Martian Manhunter, and things were going as well as you'd expect them to go for the most part.

As much as my anger management issues were a problem, I couldn't just open my mind and let the martian inside. Although I couldn't agree to J'onn's offer, I couldn't refuse it either, so I asked for some time to think.

Psychic bullshitry was a big no-no for me, and I wanted nothing to do with it, even more so than magic, but it was possibly the only way to get that shit out of my head before I made a big mistake that would ruin everything.

J'onn J'onzz was one of the most trustworthy people you could have had roaming inside your head since he was just as big of a boy scout as the Boy Scout in blue and red himself.

If he gave his word, then you can bet your life he'll keep it, and I only needed to make him promise not to do anything I didn't like. As simple as that.

However, it was still a difficult decision for me. Ever since I came to this world, mind-fuckery was the thing I dreaded the most, so letting someone inside my head was not something I could so casually accept.

Even if the person to enter my mind was honest to a fault, even if it was the smart thing to do, I couldn't just nod and let it happen. I was still torn by hesitation, unable to decide after more than a week.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I've been doing any and everything to dodge thinking about the matter and preferred to occupy myself with work instead, hence the Drones and various other upgrades to my hideout's security.

However, I only had two weeks to decide, and I spent most of them running away from the problem. I only had five days left, and I'd have to give the martian telepath an answer before then.

'A couple of hours more won't hurt...' I shrugged, bitterly smiling as I exited the hideout to make my way towards the theatre and help Patrick and the others settle in their new home.

...

East End

The theatre

I nodded at the pickup driver, giving him his pay and shaking his hand after we unloaded the last of Patrick and the others' belongings. The man returned the gesture and hopped into his car, driving away, causing me to sigh as I lifted the hoodie off my face.

I'd found the pickup driver and hired him to move Patrick and the others' belongings into the theatre instead of a moving company since I wanted to keep things under the radar without attracting attention to them and myself.

"That's the last of our stuff..." Patrick said as he walked to me. "Now we just gotta sort everything out, and we're good to go," he added as he watched his buddies move everything inside the theatre.

"It won't take long, but why the sudden change of mind?" I asked, putting my hands in my pocket as I turned to Patrick. "You didn't seem so eager to leave the warehouse earlier," I added, raising an eyebrow.

"Still am, but..." Patrick replied, sighing. "A circus showed up in that area overnight. We sent someone to investigate. They heard screams, and that was all the convincing we needed to get ourselves out of there," he added, bitterly chuckling as he shook his head.

"A circus... you say...?" I remarked, tilting my head as I recalled who'd operate in a circus. "Is it the joker?" I asked after a second's pause, resisting the urge to curse.

"No. The Joker has been lying low for a while; everyone will know once he's had enough of that..." Patrick replied, his tone faltering as he shivered at the mention of the clown prince of mayhem.

"Based on the screams George heard... I'd say whatever freak is in there can't be any better than the clown..." he concluded, with a heavy sigh, scratching his head.

"Well, this is Gotham. Heck, even that pickup driver might be worse than the Joker for all we know," I jokingly said, chuckling as I tried to change the subject after noticing Patrick's anxious behavior.

"Either way, you're away from that Lunatic now, and I've already installed defenses... the theatre is completely Gotham-proof," I concluded with a shrug, to which Patrick chuckled.

"Cassandra is already inside helping out... do you wanna go and say hi real quick?" Patrick asked after a bout of silence as he watched the others continue to move what little furniture they had inside.

"I'll pass... I've got some thinking to do... and someone needs to deal with whatever new piece of shit crawled out of the sewers into that circus..." I replied, chuckling as I turned to leave.

"Oh? I thought your vigilantism days were over? Already missing bashing people's heads?" Patrick said, smiling as he watched me leave, and I could do nothing but chuckle at his words

"For the most part, they are... but, I never said I'll deal with it myself, did I...?"

...

Gotham

East End

As she stood over a roof ledge, Nightshade couldn't help but take a deep breath, greedily taking in the night breeze into her lungs, despite being full of chemicals and a slew of unpleasant odors.

Foul as it was, Gotham's night breeze was still better than the stale air in her poorly ventilated, dark, solitary cell back on Styker's island.

She wasn't there for long, and it's been only a couple of days since she escaped her imprisonment, but she still found herself developing an appreciation for the outside air, even if it was Gotham's world-famously polluted night breeze.

Nightshade did not escape with her own power as she received help from a Justice League member of all the people, and the man in question did not deign to explain his motives.

The man not only offered to free her but claimed to know the solution to her blight as well. He told her the only way she could save her brother was to seek the man who put her behind bars, as the latter had the power and "the tools" to do so.

Nightshade did not understand the man's words or his reasons for doing what he did, but she had no option but to trust him. The heroine did so willingly as the man was one of her childhood heroes.

"Wraith... no Grayson Whitlock... where are you...?"

...

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