"The name men give their mistakes" [Crane]

[Deleted]

Czare. (bitterly). My Imperial father had kept me for six months in this dungeon of a palace. This morning he has me suddenly woke up to see some wretched Nihilists hung; it sickened me, the bloody butchery, though it was a noble thing to see how well these men can die.

Prince Paul. When you are as old as I am, Prince, you will understand that there are few things easier than to live badly and to die well.

Czare. Easy to die well! A lesson experience cannot have taught you, whatever you may know of a bad life.

Prince Paul (shrugging his shoulders). Experience, the name men give to their mistakes. I never commit any.

Performance After Action Report: AC-G114 - 

Following initial examination through preliminary experimentation, subject AC-G114 (hereforth called AC-G114-A) reverted to initial form (hereforth referred to as AC-G114-B or Baseline Subject). Upon reversion, exfiltration of subject and all relevant materials was performed by LexCorp Bioretrieval Team 12 and sent to Site: SWAN for further debriefing. 

Materials related to AC-G114 will be based in SWAN until further notice with redunancies available per LexCorp Protocol GE-0411-A, classified HALOGEN - coordination with WALL maintained. 

Details are as follows: 

Dini Plaza had been safely abandoned in a flurry of activity, every had seen it. Materials and exfiltration by helicopter, numerous trucks and specialized rail cars in the underground subway line had moved back and forth in the months leading to the initiation of the Arkham City project. Boarded up and vandalized already, the remnants of a few flickering lights on the exterior marked all that remained of the once great industrial center, so recently purchased outright by Lex Luthor for a steal, following rental and work as the unofficial headquarters of LexCorp Gotham. 

Miranda Tate was overseeing the construction and development of the new LexCorp Gotham headquarters, so near Wayne Towers that it was practically sneering at it. That was the new center for LexCorp's activity. 

Dini Plaza was safely abandoned, except of course for the scattered reprobates, criminals and homeless that lived around barrels of fire near the former ice rink, the statue of Industry tarnished and painted. Men in knit caps and fingerless gloves warmed their hands, and waited on just the other side of the hastily established chainlink fence that had a sign marked "LexCorp" hanging askew upon it. 

The fact that these men were so well armed was merely coincidental, as was the fact that the flickering lights of the plaza still had power. The fact that they talked to themselves randomly, perhaps a sign of schizophrenia, they muttered in odd codes. 

The interior of the building had undergone significant changes before and immediately following the Arkham City construction. For one thing, the old art deco magnificence was changed to something more pragmatic, practical. Certain floors still resembled the old hotels and business offices, but they were being worked on still by the engineers. 

The room that Dr. Crane awoke into appeared to be a refurbished hotel room, with tinted glass looking out onto the city. The big screen television on the wall played subtle and quiet music, smooth and relaxing, the decor was simple, yet tasteful, the sheets soft, yet not made of natural fiber but rather some sort of synthetic. 

The picture frame above the bed showed a wealth of updating information regarding vital signs, chemical interplay, biosigns, infrared and ultraviolet radiation, and other streaming information that Dr. Crane could recognize immediately as being his own. He had no tubes in him, which was a nice change of pace, and all in all the room seemed like a strange hybrid of hotel and hospital. 

Outside the window there were fires throughout Arkham City, the lights flickering on and off, flickers of gunfire. Surprisingly, not a lot of sound. Possibly the wall had sound dampening qualities, needless to say, most of the light appeared to be coming from inside. It was clear, though, they were in Arkham City, and it was much more comfortably equipped than most places ought to be. 

Dr. Crane, however, would realize very quickly that he was not alone. A man sat at the table in the corner, a strange hovering amalgamation of numbers, boxes and screens floating in front of his face, his bald head reflecting the light strangely. Another individual was leaving the room at this point, someone in a white coat with a tablet of some sort. 

"Welcome back, Dr. Crane. I hope you feel rested after our little encounter. I found it quite exhilarating, honestly, and very informative. I have a wealth of data and information regarding your transformation that I think you might find quite interesting." He seemed so damned casual about the whole affair. "How are you feeling?" 

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

His eyes came open slowly to see a hallow light above him. There was nothing else but the light in front of him at first. It spanned across his entire line of sight. Slowly, the light began to condense and become smaller. It was like it was being swallowed by darkness only to settle as a wall light on the ceiling. The room around him suddenly came into focus.

The doctor attempted to lift his head but upon trying his entire body screamed in pain. Dr. Crane groaned as he shifted, unable to move much. Luthors voice settled him and he stopped moving to spare himself the pain. He could just barely see the man from where he was laying without moving his head. Luthor sat alone in the dark with some kind of technology around him that was far beyond Dr. Crane.

He had always used the top technology for his field when it became available to him but he was only offered it when he was employed. Once he became a professional that wasn't owned by the state he couldn't afford to have those things in any manner, whether he had to money or not. He didn't like to rely on technology for things he could do himself. It was much better to do more with less. Then when someone had less they were much better off than someone that relied so heavily on something they might not have. Not that he didn't appreciate the use at the time.

"You're alive. " The doctor choked out, finding his vocals still worked. It hurt to speak so he left it there. He was a bit taken back that Luthor had actually made it through the experience. Not many men would have survived that. But if any man could have found his way out of it, it was Luthor. He was slightly impressed But if He hadn't made it out It wouldn't have been unexpected from him either.

He tried to move again and groaned. It was obvious that lots of bones are been misplaced or broken. He imagined that Luthor had put them back in place since he'd been out, but the pain was still present. He didn't know if he'd be able to move from where He was so he remained still.

((Phone post sorry for short))

[Deleted]

"Yes, Dr. Crane. I am, in fact, alive. Your acumen for observation is undamaged by the transformation." He waved his hand through the air again a different set of data appeared in front of him, if Crane looked at it long enough he could start to see a pattern to it, there seemed to be three distinct subjects he was focusing on, with a few streams of raw data, a few real time visualizations in various types of three dimensional plot graphs, various isometric shapes appearing on a three axis graph. Images popped up around certain numbers as new screens appeared, obviously additional material associated with the data points, at least if the odd hovering lines connecting the screens had anything to do with it. A single screen appeared separate, this had a newsfeed in it of some sort, running headlines, random reports of some sort, it was in plain English, something about a perimeter report, an issue in Louisiana. He did not appear to be paying close attention to it, except to glance now and again, watching out of the corner of his eye as he appeared to be playing with the raw data points associated with some sort of biological sampling. 

"You are also, alive, and I'd imagine in some amount of discomfort." He looked away from the floating holographic setup and directly at Dr. Crane, the flow of information paused in place once he looked away, it was tracking his eye movements apparently. "For that I apologize, the amount of painkiller required to keep you totally out of discomfort was also more than enough to keep you sedated. While I imagine that sleep would be worthwhile for you, as you're aware there is a timeline at play, and I do know how you hate to pause in your work."

He stood up and then made his way towards the good doctor. "A little bit of pain is useful, focuses the mind, keeps things keen, sharpens the senses. Too much and you disassociate, but a little bit of pain honestly really keeps you keen. Unfortunately, there have been changes in your physiology that has dramatically altered the way most medications will work on you. I think we can safely try the Morphine, however. Perhaps in pill form." He pulls out the bottle and pours a few tablets into a cup for Dr. Crane. The smooth electronic music continued to play in the background, it was surprisingly relaxing, evoking sensations of sandy beaches and distant memories. A magical place.

"Intravenous is too quick, you see. It will hit you quickly, and be out of your system equally quickly due to the hyperaccelerated metabolism. We may need to utilize some of those implants in your body that Mr. Cobblepot so graciously put into you. Along with some of the ones left in there from the League of Assassins. It's a great deal simpler to modify and utilize the latter, however. Ra's al Ghul is a man with his fingers in every part of the world, whose name means death and inspires great suicidal loyalty among men and women of all class, race, creed and need. . . but he still is at a significant technological disadvantage to LexCorp, only mitigated by the fact that he does not think that I know that the League of Assassins has been stealing LexCorp designs and technology for over a decade, through contracts, subsidiaries, organized crime and infiltration. He assumes I am unaware of the depth and spread of his corruption in my organization, that I am a fool to be used as a tool, a source of resources to be twisted and modified towards his mad ends. He is not the first nor the most powerful to underestimate me." 

He smiles as he looks up at the picture over Dr. Crane's bed. It made cooing noises most reassuring, with the sort of perfect corporate ergonomic and design considerations to be both comforting and informative, instinctually understandable for anyone with basic medical training. This was designed with better interface planning than Luthor's odd personal mix of holograms, but then again it was designed for general use unlike Luthor's setup "Cobblepot's implants are somewhat more difficult to modify, he steals from Wayne Enterprises, and while Wayne Enterprises has quite the array of technological innovations and market share, they still lack some of the elegance and flexibility of LexCorp technology. Still, Ra's al Ghul is not the only man in the infiltration game, and I do so enjoy seeing Mr. Fox's work. It's always good to keep tabs on the opposition, and the implants that Mr. Cobblepot put into you are well known and at least two generations behind what we have now, and what Ra's al Ghul had placed into you. I am quite impressed, though, that the League of Assassins was able to get a hold of some of our more bleeding edge prototypes. If it weren't for my own personal paranoia, I'd wager he could easily match anything I made, pluck it from my own files and network. He's tried before, you know. Quite successfully, honestly." He smiles as he says "But you don't need me to tell you of the cunning of our mutual acquaintance. Ra's al Ghul very successfully has stolen many files from my own personal network." 

He poured a bottle into a glass to give to Dr. Crane with the pills, it looked clear, had a lovely smell to it. There was a bottle of brandy nearby as well "The irony, of course, is that he stores his files on the most advanced of computers, computers with the name LexCorp so hastily scratched out, but still engraved in every circuit and every chip, and that he's merely adopted the technology. I made it. Consequently, it belongs to me and it does what I want, and it shows him only what I want it to show him. I've a very good understanding of our mutual acquaintance's activities, consequently, while he has a surprisingly fractured understanding of mine. I say all this, in explanation for why you are here, in this building, as opposed to one of the other many safehouses I might own. It is much harder for you to be tracked where you are. The biometric feedback to the LexCorp sattelites he has hijacked, has been severed. It's one of the ways he found you so easily, after all. Using my eyes in orbit to do so. Arrogant enough to assume that I wouldn't see where he was looking, I wouldn't know what he was looking for, I wouldn't be able to piece together the complexity of his plans within plans within plans. He's not used to men who are smarter than him. He doesn't believe it to be possible, and he has the disadvantage of age, after all. Once one lives long enough, it is easy to fall prey to predictable patterns, to established philosophies, to . . . become a slave to habit. I've been cautious to try to not fall into that trap, and I have the advantage of youth over him, and the fact that he is brilliant, but a parasite of my inventions, and while he has had a lifetime of feeding off the world to aggrandize himself, I've a lifetime of dealing with parasites. It's an enjoyable diversion, and I hope you forgive me for taking you from him. I'm aware of the fact he is a poor employer, however."

He hands the glass to Dr. Crane, along with the pills. "Still, those implants have been integrated so fully into you that with the changes in physiology that I regret that they may not be removed without . . . well, death. They have his fingerprints on them, yet, they have my name, and I feel as if some small debt has been incurred for my unintentional part in your hardship. It's possible that I can use the devices in you to let you be free from pain, to stimulate the senses so that the pain receptors only sense touch, or even euphoria, although I doubt you'd be much interested in that. I admit, it's an experimental procedure, but simpler for you than most, and possibly safer than mixing unknown drugs with unknown physiology. Or if you'd rather skip that, we can review the data together." 

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The doctor was incredibly uncomfortable where he lay, however comfortable it was meant to be. Despite the physical sense he wanted to be able to move. Every time he bent a join a short hiss or a grunt left his lips. Just lying there it was easy to see that he was in pain just from moving in the slightest. He seemed to remember when he woke up in Arkham having a lot less pain…..Then again they had probably had him lying there with drugs for weeks and forced medication wasn’t a rarity there. The doctor remembered many nights there was food in front of him. Sometimes they wouldn’t bring trays because most of the time he’d refuse to eat. On the rare occasion that he did partake he felt that they had put medication in the food, anything to keep him from being awake.

He was able to turn his head somewhat to see the buzz of information surrounding Luthor’s form. He wasn’t able to read most of it but he was sure Luthor was examining the data that he’d been given from the Scarebeast. Each time he winced from movement he was trying to determine from his pain level and the movement of his joints how long he’d been lying there. The asylum had kept him out for weeks but this pain was far too prominent to be that long. It didn’t matter, he preferred it that way.

The doctor was able to relax his posture the closer Luthor came into view. He rested and took a few deep breaths that seemed to scratch at the edges of his rib cage. Even taking in air hurt. The last time he did this he wasn’t able to experience the full effect of reentry like he was now, this was something he was going to have to fix. What use would it be to him if at the end of it he couldn’t move?

The pills that dropped into the cup rattled about. He could smell the aroma of the substance nearby that would have been the catalyst. He was listening to him silently, taking in all the information he was given. Yes, the trackers in his body. He knew that there were several implanted in him. After a while he began to lose count of just how many there were. He had no immediate way of checking that was easily at his disposal and even if he did know it would do him little good to know. There was only one that he had caught when it was put in. The one that Penguin stuck into the side of his neck he’d tried to dig out with a pin first and then a knife. Looking back on the moment it wasn’t the best choice, but he was desperate to get it out while he knew where it was. The scar was still there from when he had tried to dig it out of his neck. The blade had went in very deep, but he was never able to get it out.

He knew that Ra’s had many ways of finding him, the chip in his body was probably one of many. He was sure that Luthor had his own ways of finding him at this point. The doctor still didn’t trust him completely but complete trust never came easily. Only one person had ever come close and even that was impossible. It was never possible and even here this relationship had its limits. Luthor had a goal in mind and so did he. But they were two very different individuals. Luthor was the type of man that never stopped talking. Men that spoke too much never had anything important to say.

That was the truth.

If there was one thing that he knew well, it was the truth. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one that could truly see it, until he lifted the veil from society’s eyes. Luthor was no different in this aspect, he wasn’t immune, and he wasn’t exempt. Yet, He had afforded Luthor getting much closer than others. There was more to it now than just a simple exchange of favors and information. He felt the man had traded for more than that and Dr. Crane had given him more than he was asked for. Before the thought consumed him too much he saw the cup coming closer to his lips.

The doctor turned his head and coughed a bit to clear his throat. “No…No pills.” He refused and kept his head in the opposite direction of them. Despite his discomfort, Dr. Crane would have rather taken that over feeling numb. He had felt numb his entire life. Sometimes, pain was the only thing that made him feel alive. Right now he was alive and he wanted to stay that way. He didn’t want to slip out again, he wanted to stay awake and he wanted to work. “I don’t want to waste any more time. I need to sit up.” He was nearly talking to himself as he forced his body to move. His neck went back and he gritted his teeth hard as he felt a disk in his back slide in an odd position. Movement wasn’t going to come easily for a bit. He moved his arms out enough to press against what he was laying on and slowly try to lift himself up. Color came to his pale face oddly as he tried to bite back the pain and lifting his own weight, however light he was.

He took a deep breath. “Let’s review.”

[Deleted]

Luthor smiled at that, ever the professional. That's the Doctor Crane he's come to admire, even after transformation, after anguish and considering the intensive amount of pain that the man must be going through, he was dedicated to the craft. Yes, the smile came quite unbidden over Luthor's face as he withdrew the pills, placing them on the table near the bed. In reach, a constant temptation, but still not forced on the man.

Luthor gestured in the air and then touched the wall, the small holographic device from the table was slipped into the alcove and suddenly screens appeared in midair, displaying information around Dr. Crane’s bed, the area in the middle was left clear. Luthor pulled his chair closer to the bed. “I was luckily able to get the recording equipment into place before the transformation.” He spoke up slightly louder, to be heard “Load Luthor AC-G114:” An image in the middle of the other floating screens appeared, a cage, various landmarks, and the image of Dr. Crane placing himself into the cage while Luthor stood still. The recording showed Luthor moving towards the jumper cables and played the recording of his voice. The transformation began on screen as Luthor’s notes were played verbally.

Initial impressions: AC-G114, approximately 10 feet, semibipedal. Locomotion appears to be optimized for four legs, muscle innervation optimized in extremities, single tail for counterbalance. Creature appears to have numerous protuberances from back and sides, spiny quills shining with unusual sheen, assumed biotoxin . . . biotoxin excreted from mouth as well, creating immediate chemical reaction upon contact with floor. Review for later sample retrieval, CC-BioRetrieval, return to impressions

“As you can see, Dr. Crane, the multiple recorders placed around the edges of the room, and I do appreciate you giving me the opportunity to place them up before transformation, although I wish they had been more secured or planned out, you’ll notice extrapolations in some part of the 3D recordings, but for the most part the automatic gyroscopic motors allowed the recording drones to place themselves once they were put down. I had been expecting you to show me something interesting, so I did like to take precautions to make certain that everything was recorded. . . “ The transformation on the screen was replayed again as Luthor moved his hand through the air to reverse the recording “for posterity of course. I believe we should begin by looking at the transformation process itself. The recording device in my own personal recorder was able to get a closer look at some of the details that the more distant recorders did not.”


He moved his hands through the air, spreading them apart as he looked like he was literally stretching the holographic recording to zoom into the face. Eyes turning yellow in Dr. Crane “Notice, the first physiotypal change, the eyes, prior to the rest of the body transforming. . . although you can notice before that, the vital signs. Again, we can thank Mr. Cobblepot and of course, the Demon’s Head, for this information. We were able to access the devices that were implanted into your body for this information after retrieval, and you’ll notice in this screen here the ongoing recording of vital signs and further information as it goes. I had to insert a neural scanner part way through initial investigations, and I apologize for any of the sloppiness of the technique, but the timing and facilities were hardly ideal for a better application of the neural and chemical scanner. You’ll be pleased to know that those were removed following your transformation back into your old self. I left those scanners in the drawer beside your bed, just in case you feel the need to restore them for purposes of further research, but again, I leave that choice to your expertise. Still, the eyes as the first physiotypal change is an interesting thing, as it suggests a dramatic chemical change in the mucous membranes of the eyes almost immediately, which is also mirrored by the changes in the chemical changes in the blood. As the blood’s chemical levels change, so do the eye colors, a process seen similarly in Jaundice, and for similar reasons, although the changes in the chemical composition of the blood is significantly more . . . extreme than due to mere liver failure .”



He smiled as he gestured again at the screen, the vital signs were illustrative, showing the fluctuations of heartrate, blood pressure, blood chemical composition and adrenaline levels. Very illustrative of the alterations of stress response and chemical state leading to the first stages of transformation and the wild fluctuations of the sensors as the body tore itself apart and transformed. The visualization data becomes too chaotic to follow clearly, but the raw numerical data of each second was displayed beside it, showing an interesting, if chaotic pattern, the face changed shape, Luthor reversed the recording and showed the full body transformation. “Notice also the dripping from the mouth, you’ll be happy to know we were able to collect biological samples of the saliva, . . results are pending, but you can notice the initial chemical analysis shows some interesting values, especially when compared to samples of your own fear toxin.” He showed the comparison data for Dr. Crane’s perusal.


Tail. 7 feet approximately, appears to be segmented with carapace, end has sharp edge, shiny in appearance, assumed biotoxin as well. Potentially connected to Chemical: LFB-1, sample retrieval pending. Subject has already dented cage, suggesting strength capable of excess of . . . 40,000 PSI, material strength of bars unknown, subject bent bars approximately 4 inches with single contact, Review for measurement of tensile strength of cage bars, review for calculation, CC-BioRetrieval, return to impressions - speed is above normal average, assumed excessive running speed related to increased muscle innervation in upper and lower appendages, and tail, results pending. Luthor was doing stuff in the recording as the thing played.



“We were able to make some calculations based on this data, although it would require time and momentum to reach a full speed, with the muscle density, innervation and the chemical levels noted in the blood we’ve calculated an assumed top speed of approximately 50mph, although for how long that could be maintained is subject to further calculations and observations.”

The creature screams, audible vocalizations. Subject capable of verbalization, single word "Scream" audible, initial. At first appearances from proboscis capable of enhanced smells possible due to length. Visual and auditory responses unknown, hypothesis more limited visual capacity due to placement of eyes, size of eyes, results pending. Luthor appeared excited by this part as he leaned forward, smiling widely as he spoke with an increased intensity to his voice, there was an odd light in his eyes as he gestured again at the recording. There was a scientist in there after all, underneath the megalomaniac and the egotist and the industrialist, there was a young man interested in the world, a curious little boy who liked to take apart butterflies and televisions and try to put them back together with mixed skill. “Here’s the interesting part, though, the vocalization. There’s intellect here, the transformed creature is capable of speech and communication. How much of that is intellectual, and how much of it is mimicry and communication we could not actually tell! Not until we later was able to do a brain scan with the neural connectors.” He pushes the recording forward to a later point, after the scarebeast has escaped and it appears to recognize Luthor, the neural network information appears as a model of the brainwaves appear on a new screen.

“As you can see, innervation of the frontal lobe, the visual cortex, auditory cortex. For the most part, the scarebeast emphasizes more instinctual thought processes, it appears, although there is still higher cognitive functioning skills, these tend to interfere with the sympathetic nervous system functions that are placed into overdrive while in the transformed state. I am led to wonder if as the sympathetic nerve functions tend to be limited by frontal lobe processing, if the transformative process is limited or reversed, but again. . . that leads to assumptions and data that I am not sure we have. I leave those conclusions to the expert as the data is reviewed.”

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Pain as surging through his body and attacking every nerve that he believed not to be dead. It gave him a heightened sense into which ones were still functional and others that had been used and abuse to the point of no further feeling. He had an idea of where most of those were but it was only when he was in pain all over that he became hyper aware of their specific locations. He took a heavy breath as light turned in front of his eyes, replaying video and Luthor became to feed him with information. Each breath was heavier than the last as he tried to get control of the nerves that did jump with each movement.

The major damage with his nerves was focused on his chest and back which he was sure Luthor had already noticed the multiple layers of scar tissue and damage already. Luthor, however little he did see of the real world around him, wasn’t an ignorant man. It was obvious at a glance that the scars and stretched and grown silver. It was a phenomenon that could only happen with a lot of time, meaning that his scars at a glance could be taken as very old. He didn’t put it passed the man to already know about it and have a good idea of when it might have happened. If he was half the man he claimed to be it should have been easy to determine that they were formed in childhood and the raised layers were signs of repeating action. His professional career only added to these scars over time.

It was like a beautiful portrait he had created, a symphony of triumph or a verse to remembered forever. He wanted to stop time and watch his creation move like this for a long as he could. It was, him. The creature was himself. He listened carefully and watched as the transformation happened and then was reversed to show more clarity, but he remembered it vividly enough. It was a sight to see and to have it on recording even rarer still. His shoulder pulled and cracked at the mention of two men he’d rather be unaffiliated with. His eyes actually pulled from the recording to rest on Luthors as he mentioned the tracking devices were removed from his body.

Why would he do such a thing? What benefit came from removing them besides that they wouldn’t know his location anymore? His mind settled on that conclusion, that Luthor didn’t want them knowing as the only one that made sense. He’d tried to get them out himself before but he wasn’t aware of just how many were inside of him and exactly where they were put. The doctor was conscious for some of the implants and those were the ones he’d tried to dig out. There was still a scar near his neck from the last time he’d tried to do so, but wrapped in bandage now he didn’t even know if it was one of the ones removed.

He removed his eyes from Luthor and the distracting thought to focus back on the projection infront of him. He listened to Luthors musings about the transformations and how they worked, each far more complicated than the last. If they were able to look into this much detail, he would be able to show him exactly how it worked and what chemical process was happening where. Before he had perfected the formula there was a lot of trial and error, just never on himself, but he didn’t feel like that needed to be mentioned at the time.

Luthors conclusions about the saliva were correct but he didn’t acknowledge or nod to it. Instead he was fixated on what was happening on screen. As he burst into the bars with such force, only taking a few times to completely obliterate his surroundings. What played out next paled in comparison to anything he’d ever imagined. He heard himself say the word and for the first time in what seemed like an age his heart lifted into his throat. His senses came alight with wonder that he found himself ignoring the pain to reach out and touch the image. It didn’t even matter what Luthor was saying at this moment. There was so much he was missing, but Dr. Crane could see it all.

His eyes went back to Luthor as the tape moved on, catching the last part of his speech. He was trying to explain something so much larger than himself. That was good, it was what he wanted in the first place. It was the only way he was going to be able to work out the flaw in his creation. “It’s right in front of you….So many words for something so incredibly clear…” he commented softly, his voice still raspy from the pain. He tried to keep it at a softer tone if anything to save his voice from any more strain. Men that spoke too much had very little to say, he’d found. Luthor had a habit of speaking a lot but in this one moment his words didn’t go completely unheard. “I’m there…” He motioned to the video to the beast as if it were simple to tell the difference. “I’ve always been there…As much as it is an incredible sight to study…My goal in this review is to correct my oversight.” He spoke softly of his problem in the project. The beast in itself was perfect, the problem was in the transformation.

“As you can see from my state, the entry and exit is a bit more…Intense than I envisioned originally. On top of this….I’ve been progressively losing control of when it happens. The original idea was for it to be at will, as you can see there.” he referenced again back to the video and groaned, resting back once more with his eyes fixated again on Luthor.