DC: Vessel

He was tired—so very tired.

"Still alive, Doctor?"

God, how he had grown to despise that woman's voice. Yet, he rolled his head toward her.

"Untie him."

He would've frowned if his muscles weren't so sore and fatigued from what they'd done.

"...Why?…" was all he could muster as his arms and legs were unbound.

Waller sat in the chair across from him, tilting her head.

"You wanted to run. So run. Let's see how far rats make it when they think they're free."

I hesitated, but stood the moment she started making ticking sounds.

"Waller, you'll regret this."

She chuckled, waving her hand dismissively.

"I'll give you ten minutes, Doctor Elias Shepherd."

I ran out the door, heading for the nearest exit. As I moved, I mentally traced the paths to my old safehouses.

'I don't know what she's planning with this, but I'm sure most—if not all—have already been raided.'

My eyes fell on a set of keys left so conspicuously out of place it felt like an insult. Still, I grabbed them.

At the exit, the door clicked open with one of the keys, and for the first time in years, I tasted fresh air.

The guards stationed outside looked at me but made no move—reminding me that I was on a timer.

'I need to get a phone.'

Running down the path, I caught my reflection in a glass window. Gone was the clean-shaven well fed man. In his place stood a gaunt shadow of myself.

I knew my appearance would set off alarms—traces Waller could follow. Shaking my head, I moved through the street, hoping that someone... someone might take pity on my ragged appearance.

"Please, I need to know if my daughter is okay."

I grabbed onto a young man's coat as he walked by with who I assumed was his girlfriend. He looked at me like I was a roach.

"Please, young man!"

Groaning, he pushed me away, but his girlfriend gently handed me her phone.

"Thank you. Thank you."

She waved me off, and I quickly entered the number I prayed still worked.

*"This is Papa's Meat! Where the best pizza in all of America is—"*

Cutting off the dramatics, I spoke over the line.

"This is Elias Shepherd. I need you to scrap the contract relating to turkey meat. Effective immediately."

Silence. My heart pounded in my chest. Then finally, a tired, older voice responded.

*"Of course, Mister Shepherd. It was nice partnering with you. Have a safe and wonderful day."*

The line went dead. I exhaled in relief, handed the phone back to the woman, and took off again—this time toward a safehouse I doubted Waller had checked.

A drop of water struck my cheek. I looked up to see the sky darkening, clouds rolling thick over Louisiana.

'Just what I needed.' I thought, dryly.

——·

"Doctor Keene, why are we rushing?"

Moving with urgency as the phone call ended, he ran to the elevator leading to the lab, his young female coworker in tow.

"Elias has been let go by Waller." he said grimly. "She's most likely tracked the phone call we had and is planning to steal the files related to his last project."

The young woman gasped. He stopped at the elevator and pressed the button as she spoke in an alarmed tone.

"Doesn't that mean… that the serum works?"

Shaking his head, he stepped into the elevator with her and pressed the button to go down.

"From the reports I read, the chances are low—but not zero. So yes, it could've worked. That's why he asked us to destroy the files he gave us… or maybe he is planning something else entirely."

She nodded slowly, and he sighed, reflecting on how it had all come to this.

'We should've never shaken hands with those we didn't fully understand.'

He should've realized that once Cadmus had their heavy eyes on Elias and him, others would soon follow.

'Compound T…'

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out quickly, rushing toward the cleaner section of the lab. An area he had kept pristine in the hope Elias would one day return to work with him.

'Yet that'll never happen.'

He ushered his young coworker to gather the others and stop Waller's men from getting inside. As he worked, he accidentally flipped open one of the folders, and his brows furrowed.

Inside was a hastily drawn copy of the Vitruvian Man by Da Vinci, with scribbled notes in Elias's handwriting. As his eyes scanned the page, it was like watching a fuse slowly ignite. The pieces came together and he realized what Elias had truly been working on—what he really wanted to create.

A human Superman.

'Was he working with Cadmus?'

He didn't know how deep the involvement went, but he did know that Cadmus specialized in DNA manipulation.

'Was Elias trying to create a human with the power of Superman using the hero's genetics?'

As impressive as it was from a scientific perspective, the thought left a vile taste in his mouth—defiling both a symbol of justice and what it meant to be human.

Shaking his head, he kept reading. The last few words written by Elias appeared to be hurried, documented trial logs likely scribbled just before he was taken by Waller.

—Trial #419—

Subject Name: Elizabeth

Age: 31

Background: [R̶e̶s̶t̶r̶i̶c̶t̶e̶d̶]

Notes:

Unlike Subject 418, Subject 419 has demonstrated remarkable resilience to pain—particularly during early Compound-T injections.

I hypothesize that a psychological and physical connection between her and her child may explain her survival thus far.

Though it wasn't my intention to have a woman assume the role of something inspired by him,

I do wonder if Waller will…

—

His hands crumpled the papers, the rest of the words smudged either by Elias's sleeve or time.

'Why, Elias? Why?'

Though his own hands were far from clean, he'd never gone as far as this. And if he had to theorize who the next subject was meant to be, he understood now why Elias wanted these records destroyed.

"Doctor Keene, the men are above and ready for anyone Waller sends our way."

Jolted from his thoughts, he turned to the young woman and gave a nod.

"Good. Though I doubt anyone will show up—this place is buried deep underground, even if she traced us—"

The entire lab suddenly shook, cutting him off and forcing both of them to grab onto the nearby table for support.

"W-what was that?" the young woman asked.

Keene glanced at her, then straightened. "I'll set the charges. You get to the exit. By the time they're armed, I'll be right behind you."

She hesitated—only for a second—before another tremor struck and she took off without another word.

Frowning, he looked upward. 'Who the hell is that?'

He had hired several metahumans, ones capable of wiping out a small army if it came to that.

Gulping down the lump in his throat, he moved toward the emergency charges, breathing a short sigh of relief just as he armed the timer—

BOOM.

He ducked as the ceiling above exploded, raining dust and rubble throughout the lab. Looking up, he saw the back of one of his hired men.

"Doc? Fuck—get outta here! This dude's a freak!"

Keene nodded and broke into a run. But as he sprinted, he heard the sickening crunch of flesh against metal. Glancing back, he saw the rest of his team—diverse in appearance, from hide like skin to enlarged limbs to one even wielding magic—all surrounding a man clad in black armor.

For a moment, Keene thought it was Batman. But then he looked higher and saw the partially melted black mask the figure wore.

"Oi, fucker! You killed my drinking partner—fuck you!"

The figure didn't flinch. Instead, it turned its head—slowly—until its black eyes locked with Keene's.

'What did Waller send—'

His thoughts shattered as the figure's eyes lit up red. The air around him grew hotter—before the beam shifted toward the man who had shouted.

A blast of intense heat vaporized the man's head in a gory explosion.

'Compound T…'

The thought hit like a freight train. A theory, born on the spot but it made perfect sense.

Rounding the corner, Keene saw the exit in the distance, the young woman waving him down with sweat on her brow.

"Doctor Keene, hurry!"

He tried. God, he tried—but age had caught up to him and the shockwave from another explosion knocked him clean off his feet.

Heavy, deliberate footsteps crunched over the rubble.

Looking back, he saw the figure again—the melted helmet, the black unfeeling eyes, staring straight passed him.

Keene turned and felt his stomach drop. The young woman was closing the heavy exit door.

"Wait—Ack!"

A hand seized the back of his head, lifting him like he weighed nothing.

"S-stop!" he gasped, hoping—praying—the figure might spare him. Might listen.

But the grip only tightened.

"You were injected with Compound T, right?! You don't understand w-what it does to someone!"

The man said nothing.

Keene was dragged toward the sealed exit door, the young woman staring at him through its small reinforced glass window.

"I can—"

His words cut off as his head slammed into the door. His teeth shattered from the impact.

His hands clawed at the figure's wrist, trying to loosen the grip as the pressure increased.

And then… it stopped.

For a split second, hope sparked. Maybe—just maybe—he was going to be heard out.

KZZT

·——·

KZZT

My eyes snapped open as I jolted upright in bed.

I looked around. I didn't hear that sound again—only the slow hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

Blinking, I noticed that my jaw felt sore and my mouth was dry, tasting faintly of… something burnt.

'What happened?'

Groaning, I got up and spotted a newspaper on the table again. As I passed by the mirror, I noticed black dust under my fingernails. I raised my hand and sniffed my fingers before sneezing.

'Soot?'

Shrugging it off, I walked over to the table. The newspaper was already open—

And there it was. Titan.

"Titan saves workers from exploding warehouse... on the 27th."

I had no memory of doing that. No recollection of anything from the 27th.

A knot twisted in my gut as I looked away from the paper and headed for the door.

'What day is it even?'

Placing my hand on the handle, the unease in my stomach flared again—but I pushed it aside.

"Waller should—"