"Bullseye. You worked with Two-Face to take control of all the gangs in East End. What is your goal?" Batman didn't so much ask as demand.

Joseph knew the man had no psychic powers, yet the sheer weight of his presence pressed against him, almost tangible. He wasn't the leader of the Justice League for nothing.

"Batman and Robin," Joseph said gruffly, leveling his blued revolver at them. "Quite the greeting. I'd say our goals are similar—though our means differ. Mine will work."

His voice carried the pitch and cadence of an older man with a heavier Gothamite accent. It was a trick, one of the earlier abilities he'd developed after first acquiring the nanites, back when he operated as Flux. He altered his tone depending on the identity: deeper and younger-sounding as Nova, rougher and older as Bullseye.

The disguise went beyond voice. His posture was different too—shoulders slouched, back slightly hunched, feet planted wide. A stance that looked loose but radiated readiness, giving the impression of someone relaxed yet always poised to strike.

His gait, his stance, his movements—every detail was calculated. Bullseye was not Nova. Only a fool would act the same way in both identities, especially in front of one of Earth's greatest detectives. Joseph liked to think he was no fool.

Even his fighting style changed. As Nova, he relied on flawless martial arts. As Bullseye, he blended lesser disciplines—Krav Maga for striking, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for grappling, and Kali for weapons—chaotic but deliberate.

Rain poured harder, drumming on the rooftop as thunder rolled in the distance. Dark clouds smothered the moon.

"We're nothing alike. We don't kill," Robin interjected, extending his eskrima sticks.

Batman and Robin began circling, each step methodical. Joseph mirrored them, the three separated by a rooftop vent.

"I haven't killed anyone yet," Joseph countered. "But I'm not opposed to it. Mercy to the wicked is cruelty to the innocent. Speaking of death—shouldn't you be chasing the Joker after he bombed the U.N. with Joker Venom?"

"That's exactly what we were doing," Robin shot back. "Until we saw you running around the triads and cartels. I'm sick of villains and hidden agendas. What are you planning?"

Joseph chuckled. "So many questions! A man can't even gallivant through Gotham at night anymore? I'd love to see how you measure up against me, but unfortunately—we've all got things to do. Pocket sand!"

The last words triggered Nova's hidden program. During their short exchange, he had hacked into the Dynamic Duo's visors. Their vision went dark instantly.

Joseph spun, ready to leap off the building. But even blinded, Batman moved on instinct. With one smooth motion, he hurled three batarangs—each curving in from a different angle, converging on Joseph's position. The precision, especially without sight, was impressive.

Joseph calculated in less than a second. He fired his revolver at one of the batarangs mid-flight. The bullet altered its path so it collided with a second, which then ricocheted into the third. All three veered harmlessly aside as Joseph vanished into the storm-drenched streets below, evading surveillance with ease.

**

Hours later, the storm still rumbled, lightning flickering in the clouds.

Joseph had slipped Batman and Robin's pursuit, finishing the implantation of nanotech into all of Gotham's gang leaders—at least, the ones present. Black Mask was absent. Penguin was in Europe. Eventually, they'd return, and then he'd administer his "vaccine" to cure Gotham of crime and corruption.

Parkouring across rooftops, he stopped on one particular building.

Below was the street where his mother had died. Where he had first touched the Speed Force. Where Nova had been born.

Maybe it was fate that he had returned here, now that he had uncovered the truth of his heritage, and the reason for those events.

Regret lingered. If the Speed Force had manifested before his mother's fatal crash, he could have saved her. But fate had denied him. Gotham was merciless; many suffered worse. At least he had gained power from his pain.

Still, he hated fate. He hated watching those close to him suffer.

No more. Never again.

//Entering Speed State.//

Anticipating his thoughts, Nova triggered the transformation. His body shifted into the same heightened condition it had the night of the crash, when STAR Labs' chemicals had mixed with the Speed Force.

The world froze. In the Speed State, he moved faster than the eye could follow, faster than human perception could comprehend. To him, everything else was suspended in stillness. He had once thought this was the limit of his connection—until Wally explained how he had gained his own powers.

An experiment. A bolt of lightning striking a shelf of chemicals.

Joseph had endured the chemicals, yes—but not the lightning. That part of fate had never come for him.

Bullseye's costume dissolved, nanites shrinking it into storage. His Nova suit rippled across his skin. He blasted skyward, vanishing into the storm.

The Speed State let him move at roughly 0.1% the speed of light. Yet even at that velocity, natural lightning was five times faster.

He tried waiting. He even chased bolts across the sky. But none struck him, no matter how high or isolated he made himself. The effort drained his nanites. Still, fate denied him.

So be it. If fate withheld, he would seize power for himself.

Exiting the Speed State, Joseph blasted off toward his Metropolis hotel.

He entered through the window, cloaked by night and avoiding every camera. From his suitcase he retrieved a weapon: the Nth metal gun that stored Wotan's lightning magic, modeled after Paran Dul's laser pistol. He kept it outside his body—Kent Nelson had warned that keeping dark magic near him could corrupt his psyche.

Flying back into the sky, he hovered above Metropolis under the pale moonlight.

He reentered the Speed State—and pulled the trigger on himself.

He had been struck before, by storms and by magic. But this was different: a concentrated discharge of Wotan's lightning. Pain seared through him, stretched and amplified by warped time perception.

Then pain became ecstasy. His body thrummed with electricity. He felt untethered.

He had succeeded.

A roar tore from his chest as he unleashed a bolt of lightning like the Flash. Yellow streaks split the sky. His perception snapped back to normal, the transition seamless.

He no longer needed Nova to trigger the Speed State. He could wield the Speed Force freely. He could shroud parts of his body in its aura, control his perception of time at will, accelerate the nanites without slowing his own thoughts.

And like the Strength Force before, he sensed no ceiling to its potential.

He surged upward—through clouds, past atmosphere—accelerating until he reached 5% the speed of light. Fifty times faster than before. Follow current novᴇls on novel·fire·net

Within minutes, he hovered millions of miles from the sun. Its warmth bathed him, filling him with energy.

He had everything he'd ever dreamed of and more: knowledge, wealth, power, a girlfriend who loved him, family of a sort. Most importantly—freedom.

Eyes closed, he absorbed more solar energy, the searing heat meaningless against his skin.

He was humanity perfected. The pinnacle. Few could oppose him now.