10: The Second Contact

It was only by the third ring that Tim began to stir, and when he did, he made the mistake of swinging a hand up to feel his surroundings. When the tips of his fingers briefly brushed the edge of a table, Tim realised too late that he had fallen asleep once again on the new (and so damn comfy) swivel chair in front of the bat-computer.

At the touch, Tim felt himself tilt backwards as the momentum of the action only slanted his position further, and he could do nothing but yelp as he fell to the ground in a red-and-yellow heap. Groaning, Tim stood slowly with a yawn, grimacing as he stretched and popped the kinks in his neck, just as he reached up and tapped his logo. Immediately, he was met with the concerned frown of Batgirl as the hologram appeared before him.

"Robin, where have you been? I've tried calling you five times in a row," she exclaimed, but faltered as she took in his dishevelled appearance.

"Sorry, I fell asleep in the new chair again," he said sheepishly, and Batgirl's gaze softened at his weariness.

"Hey, it's okay. Personally I think Bruce just wants to drive the point home that you need your rest,"

"I know. It's not like I'm trying to compete with him," said the Boy Wonder with a roll of his eyes, as he recalled his mentor's seemingly inability to have a full night's sleep ever, "but man, school got so much busier this year. I wouldn't mind doing three group assignments all by myself, but you know how it is at GA – everyone in my groups keep wanting to meet up at the library so much later than usual, which just piles on all the work I could'vegotten done in that time."

"Urgh, yeah. I remember those science projects in tenth grade. Such a pain," said Batgirl with sympathy, before she glanced at something behind her and seemed to remember the reason why she'd called in the first place.

"What does the computer say about those samples?" she asked, and Robin snapped as he woke completely at that, his gaze quickly darting to the bat-computer screen before him.

"That's right, I completely forgot!"

He quickly tapped a few commands into the computer, and waited as the computer scanned the gravel he had salvaged from Gamma team's last mission, which had involved the investigation of Vandal Savage's last seen location on Earth following the summit of the Light. The mission had ended with two gargoyle-like creatures appearing from boom-tubes and attacking them. From Tim's memories of that night, the creatures had looked like they had come straight out of a horror movie, except they were covered in strange metallic armour, and armed with long bronze spears. It hadn't taken much to overpower the creatures, but their shrieks of rage had been like a thousand knives scraping down a ceramic plate.

The beeping noise that came from the bat-computer snapped Tim out of his thoughts, and he glanced at the screen quickly, before addressing Batgirl once more.

"It's from Apokolips," he said with a frown, and Batgirl's mouth set to a thin line at that.

"Parademons, makes sense with their armour and spear. But they haven't been seen on Earth in years, not since the League first formed,"

Tim pursed his lips as he tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair in thought.

"They've been around before? What did they want?"

"I'm not certain, since I was pretty young when the League formed. But from reading the files, it seems like a bunch of them appeared out of boom tubes one day and wrecked Metropolis. They…self-destructed after? Wow. Apparently they exploded in green goo,"

"Well that definitely didn't happen with the two we fought," stated Tim, and Batgirl nodded in agreement.

"They should be still locked in S.T.A.R. labs, but I'll go check it out now," said Batgirl as she reached to end the call, but paused as she voiced her stray thought.

"I can't imagine what Savage is doing with parademons, but it can't be good,"

"No," agreed Tim just as he finally noted her own weariness.

"Hey, look. I've had my nap. I'll head over to S.T.A.R. labs right now. You should get some rest yourself,"

Batgirl looked ready to argue, but Tim gave her a reassured smile.

"Bruce is patrolling tonight, you don't have to worry," he said when he noticed the missing batmobile from the garage.

When Batgirl finally agreed and ended the call, Tim stood and turned to gear up, but froze when he found Alfred standing beside the weapon rack.

"Actually, Master Tim, Master Wayne has given me strict orders to keep you here until you've had your supper," and Tim had to groan as Alfred laid a three-course meal right before him, but had to appreciate his mentor's care as he dug into the delicious meal.

"And she's awake!" called a voice.

"Ugh, my body feels like it's been run over by a truck four times," groaned Zatanna in response when she finally came to, blinking rapidly at the bright fluorescent light above her.

"Only four? Damn, guess that voodoo shit didn't hit you hard enough," came a answering drawl from the same voice, and Zatanna sat up quickly at that.

"Oh my gods, Lou? You're here?!" she exclaimed, and as her gaze only registered the raised brow and barely suppressed smile on the familiar face of her half-sister, the sorceress sprang forth and enveloped her in a hug. Lou immediately returned the gesture with a laugh,

"Who else would it be?" she smirked, and Zatanna pulled back with a chuckle, noting that Lou was wearing her orange Camp Half-blood shirt (although the text was written in Ancient Greek) and jeans.

Despite having been claimed by Hecate in the midst of battle five years ago, Zatanna had only been to Camp Half-blood for half a summer, two years after her claiming. While she had never even met her mother in person, she – like all half-bloods and their godly parents – had resented the goddess for deserting her father and her their whole lives.

This, however, couldn't dissuade the friendship between her and Lou, as the two sisters had grown to be very close friends in her short weeks at Camp, and while scarce, they still tried to maintain contact now and then. At the thought, Zatanna grimaced, just as Lou lightly swatted her on the shoulder – a hit that the sorceress knew would've been a punch if she hadn't just woken up in a hospital bed.

"What happened to calling every few months, huh? I haven't heard from you in a nearly a year!"

Lou sounded almost hurt, but she shook her head with a small smile when Zatanna rushed to apologise.

"I'm only messing with you, Z. Seriously, the Justice League? Damn, talk about a promotion!"

"Oh I know, right! I still can't believe I'm actually with them. Anyways, what are you doing here? Are we in S.T.A.R. labs?" she asked, and Lou shrugged.

"No idea what S.T.A.R. labs is, I just came as soon as Nico called,"

"What? He called you? Nico?"

Zatanna didn't know the other half-blood well, having only met him initially with the rest of the Team five years ago. He hadn't been at camp when she was there, but had heard Lou and some others talk about him.

"Yeah," replied Lou with a roll of her eyes, "I was getting ready for bed, you know, and he just called out of the blue – after two years, mind you – that you were having a heart attack. Didn't even give me a heads-up that he knew Batman and everyone else. What, is he also in the Justice League?"

"Him? No. He's just…er…around, I guess?"

Even though they were close, Zatanna wasn't sure how much she was supposed to tell Lou, as the Team was still supposedly a furtive team tasked with covert operations.

"And what? I was having a heart attack?" exclaimed Zatanna in alarm, just as the door opened and Nightwing and Black Canary entered.

"Oh, thank god," said Black Canary when she noted that the sorceress was awake, and Nightwing shot her a smile of relief.

"What happened? The last thing I remember…"

Zatanna trailed off as she tried to remember, and her eyes widened when she recalled the attack at the Hall and the floating possessed girl.

"I—"

"You got petrified, literally, like in the second Harry Potter movie? Frozen like stone by some voodoo magic that I could only just manage to undo," stated Lou flatly.

"And you had a heart attack trying to fight it," said Nightwing, and Zatanna swallowed uneasily.

"Oh, I remember some of it now. There was something in that girl's eyes…it was just so…" Zatanna shivered, and Lou wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort.

"Where's Nico? I want to thank him for calling you," she said after a moment.

"Oh, he left not long after she—" Nightwing gestured to Lou, and from his narrowed gaze, it appeared he didn't know her name, "—arrived, got some text and left for something family related? He'll be at the, uh, base in a few days,"

"Family related? Seriously?" scoffed Lou, and Nightwing raised an eyebrow. Zatanna didn't miss her ex-boyfriend's not-so-subtle attempt at being secretive.

"How long was I out?" she asked, and she also didn't miss the glance Lou and Nightwing shared, despite them not knowing each other.

"Five days," said Nightwing finally, and Zatanna's eyes widened.

"What? Five?"

Lou nodded grimly, "I did mention the voodoo part, right?" and Zatanna sat in silence as she tried to process the information.

Lou registered the look of unease on Black Canary and Nightwing's faces at her presence, and after putting up with their wariness for five days, she finally decided not to put up with it anymore and patted Zatanna on the back.

"Okay, well, since you're up and all, I better head back."

Suddenly, an electronic sound came from Lou's jean pocket, and she slipped out her silver hPhone. She grimaced when she saw the screen.

"Yeah I definitely have to go now, Mr. D's prattling on about how sloppy I'm being for leaving camp for five days as a cabin leader."

She gave Zatanna a hug good-bye, and stood just as the sorceress felt the tender skin of her wrists and rubbed it. Lou noticed the action and frowned as she readied herself for the teleportation spell.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, and Zatanna raised an eyebrow in question at that, "Feels like an old burn or something."

"Yeah. You were burned there by whatever knocked you out that they still won't tell me," said Lou with a roll of her eyes, gesturing to the two superheroes behind her, "but I healed you quickly with a spell and ambrosia. That does remind me, the burn was the weirdest thing – it was shaped like a jagged S or something. Anyways, I expect calls, Z! Catch you later!" and with that, the daughter of Hecate vanished from the room, leaving nothing but the faint smell of a campfire behind.

"Wait…did she say jagged S? Like the mark Alpha found on Mars?" asked Zatanna, and Nightwing nodded grimly.

"Exactly the same, but her magic managed to heal it so it's completely gone from your skin," and Zatanna tried to take comfort at that, but she couldn't seem squash the growing unease within her.

The Bee Gees, really?

Annabeth tapped her foot impatiently as the Bee Gee's infamous Stayin' Alive played through the speakers of the glass elevator she was currently in. She watched the electronic numbers at the top of the elevator ascend, and when her restless mind grew bored of the action, she turned to observe dusk settling over the Manhattan skyline beyond the glass panes of the lift.

Yes, the apartment building she was in was that fancy that three of the four elevator walls were made of glass, as if to remind the residents that they lived in a prestigious building in the heart of New York City, and to remind any visitors that they weren't. But while the daughter of Athena would've usually loved the ascent as it gave her the view of all the buildings around her, the anxiety within her did not allow such simple pleasures.

No, ever since the fire in New Rome a year ago, Ella and Rachel – whose apartment Annabeth was currently on the way to – had been…affected, to say the least, and the half-blood was anxious about how the latter would be like today. While the harpy had begun to see birds and creatures that no one else saw, the oracle had been – for the lack of a better term – strange. If she was simply observed from someone far away, nothing would seem odd about her, but upon closer inspection, one would see the difference – that the oracle, while not having been harmed physically by the fire, had been affected psychologically in a way that could not be explained.

A loud dingrang through the elevator, and the electronic box above the doors read the number fifty.

Annabeth took a deep breath as she stepped out onto the penthouse floor. She had been away at college in New Rome after she had assisted in re-building the parts of the city in the aftermath of the fire, and hadn't visited her friend in months. Annabeth swallowed her anxiety, however, as she approached the door of Rachel Elizabeth Dare's penthouse and reached up to ring the doorbell.

"Annabeth? Oh my gods! It's been so long!" gushed Rachel as soon as she opened the door, and Annabeth plastered on a bright smile as the oracle sprang forth and enveloped her in a hug.

"I know, right? I'm sorry I haven't been around to visit, but being in Camp Jupiter…well, you know how it is,"

"It's totally fine. Come on in! Would you like a drink or something?" asked Rachel as she pulled back, and that was when dread pooled in Annabeth's stomach when she caught Rachel's eyes.

While seemingly nothing had changed with the oracle in terms of everyday speech and actions, anyone who had known Rachel well prior to the fire would know that she had a very curious, creative and also a very spontaneous personality. She was always not afraid to speak her mind, and due to her childhood background and her relationship with her parents, she had a bit of a rebel streak inside her. Ever since the incident, however, her personality had…changed.

Percy had difficulty describing the difference, but Annabeth had agreed with his observations: Rachel was now always very polite and friendly – not that she wasn't before – however when there were times when the old Rachel would've made a snide remark or sarcastic comment, she would simply keep her mouth shut. Yet even the subtle change in her personality wasn't the biggest alteration.

After she had woken from her coma a week after the fire, Rachel had stopped…seeing, or appeared not to. Her pupils were unfocused, as if she saw everything around her, but her brain didn't quite register what actually appeared before her; there was no hint of recognition within them. Her vacant gaze would always be darting around, constantly trying to see and process everything around her but not seemingly able to, despite the fact that nothing else in her body indicated she was having trouble. When questioned, Rachel's face would frown at the speaker, but her eyes – rather than focused – would appear to be looking through the person, rather than actually seeing them. It was…unnerving, to say the least, when one was to look her in the eyes.

"Just water, thanks," said the daughter of Athena as she jerked out of her thoughts and took in the luxurious apartment.

Triple-glazed floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the span of where the furthest wall was supposed to be, and the panorama of the New York City skyline looked like it had come straight from a high-resolution television screen. The lights and lamps of the apartment were a mixture of modern and classical, and Annabeth noted a particular lamp in one corner looked like it had come straight out of a museum. A flat-screen television sat on top of a booming stereo system next to the lamp, which was playing music that was a mix of jazz and trap.

That was where the normal set-up of a sumptuous penthouse ended.

The coffee table, couches and arm chairs were covered in white sheets that were splattered with paint, and from their shapes and the scratches on the ground, Annabeth deduced that they must've been shoved and pushed around. A large sheet that hung on pegs from the ceiling sectioned off the modern kitchen at the end of the living room, and paint cans and brushes were strewn all around the apartment hazardously. Paintings and canvases were everywhere, the bigger ones leaning against the walls and furniture while the smaller ones were scattered on the ground. In short, the penthouse looked like the remains of an art studio after it had been swept through by a tornado.

The white sheet that separated the kitchen and the living room was pulled back, and Rachel ducked underneath to pour Annabeth her glass of water.

"So, how have you been? How's college?" she asked over the sheet, and the half-blood heard water running and the clinking of glasses as she replied, "Oh, it's amazing! All the teachers are experts in their fields, naturally, but they know so much more than mortal professors do, it's still so surprising,"

"That's great to hear!" exclaimed Rachel as she reappeared from the kitchen and handed Annabeth a filled glass.

That was when the demigod had the chance to notice Rachel's clothes: paint splattered denim overalls, with her orange Camp half-blood t-shirt underneath.

"You know your offer still stands, right? Even though you weren't a legionnaire or a veteran, they make an exception for the oracle,"

Rachel shrugged at that, "Yeah, I know. But I've been a little busy here," she stated as she gestured around the room.

Annabeth's eyes did another sweep of the room at that, and a large painting that leaned against the windows caught her attention.

"Oh my gods, is that…?"

"Yes!" laughed Rachel with delight, "the time Leo lit Jason's pants on fire, caught on paint!"

Annabeth had to chuckle at that, and she took a sip of her water as she walked around the living room, examining the paintings. She saw several small works of flowers and trees, and others of rocks and mountains. It was a mixture of charcoal and acrylic artworks, and she noted, incredulously, that each painting had been signed not with Rachel's initials…but with a strange jagged S.

Annabeth continued around the apartment, however, and had to admit she was impressed when she came across an unfinished landscape of New York City.

"This is amazing, Rach," she said.

"Oh, thanks! But I didn't like the colours I used on the Chrysler building," said Rachel, sounding like she stood on the other end of the living room, and Annabeth turned at that, and noted that the other girl was indeed in the other end of the room with her back to her.

How did she know which painting I was talking about?

That was when the daughter of Athena noticed her actions: Rachel was fingering the edge of a white sheet that covered the large dining table, and she strode towards her at the observation,

"What's under there?" she asked when she arrived next to the oracle.

"I…can't remember," said Rachel, before she unceremoniously yanked the sheet off the canvas, and Annabeth felt a chill down her spine at what was beneath.

It was a still life oil painting of a pile of skulls on a black table, but the skulls were of different creatures, it seemed, as she saw that two of the skulls appeared to be that of birds, while others looked stranger and didn't appear to be of any creature Annabeth could recognise. A large human skull sat on top of the pile, and sitting on top of that was a large black raven. The entire painting had a black background, and the skulls painted in grey while the table was also black, but the contrasting element was the seven white shapes behind the table. The seven white shapes looked almost humanoid, and Annabeth felt suddenly agitated when she saw that the painting was once again signed by a jagged S rather then Rachel's initials.

"It's…uh…very creative," said Annabeth finally, and the half-blood felt the back of her neck prickle when she sensed Rachel's unfocused gaze on her.

She tore her eyes off the painting to meet the oracle's gaze, and Annabeth felt a chill of sudden alarm shoot down her spine when she noted that for the first time, Rachel's gaze was unexpectedly intense and focused on her.

The daughter of Athena wasn't scared easily, but she had to look away and turned to regard the painting once more.

"I have to ask, what's with the S?" she asked, and when Rachel replied, her voice sounded suddenly very hoarse, as if her throat was very dry.

"It's not an S."

Annabeth's right hand suddenly twitched towards her drakon-bone knife she had strapped to her belt, her demigod instincts screaming that something was very, very off. She quelled her sudden nerves when she reminded herself that this was just Rachel, her friend and the host of the oracle of Delphi.

"O-kay," she stated, and her eyebrows drew together in a frown when she noticed another strange thing about the painting.

"Wait…the raven. Why does it have six eyes? They usually only have two,"

There was a pause, and it was then when Annabeth realised that somehow, the temperature of the apartment had dropped several degrees.

"What do you mean?" rasped the oracle finally, and Annabeth's gaze snapped back to Rachel's eyes, to see that they were glowing a strange mixture of green and red, and Annabeth's hand flew to her knife just as green smoke began to pour from Rachel's mouth, "all ravens have six eyes,"