Kian's headquarters felt almost like a second skin to him now—a labyrinth of control rooms, secured chambers, and sleek corridors that allowed him to oversee Gotham's shifting power dynamics. Yet even with his grip tightening over the city, he knew he was nowhere near his ultimate goal. His power had grown exponentially over the last year, and with Jason Todd, Deadshot, and Deathstroke unwaveringly loyal at his side, Kian's ambitions were taking on new proportions. But tonight, as he considered the next step, his mind drifted to a darker purpose.
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers absentmindedly brushing across his desk. His telekinetic abilities had reached a point where, with a flick of his mind, he could lift objects weighing tons. Just yesterday, he had tested this power, lifting an entire cargo crate effortlessly, watching as it hovered in the air with the ease of a feather. The potential felt intoxicating, each new level of strength expanding his vision of what he could accomplish. Gotham would soon be only the beginning.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Kian's focus sharpened. Jason entered the room, his dark silhouette framed against the dim light outside.
"We're all set up," Jason announced, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Everyone's waiting for you in the conference room."
"Good," Kian said, standing up. He adjusted his newly finished suit, a sleek blend of Deathstroke's combat armor and Deadshot's tactical precision. Lightweight yet durable, it suited both his power and skill, a fitting embodiment of the man he had become. The room practically radiated power as he walked toward the door, his mind focused on the future.
He entered the conference room to find Deadshot, Deathstroke, and Jason seated around the table, each man ready and attentive. In front of them were detailed maps of the nearby cities—Metropolis, Star City, and Blüdhaven. Kian took his place at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over his loyal team.
"Thank you all for coming," he began, his voice carrying the weight of command. "Our operations in Gotham have reached a point of stability. Black Mask is fractured, Joker's fate has made our intentions clear, and our allies have been chosen carefully. But this… is only the beginning."
The men around the table exchanged looks, all of them leaning in, keen to hear his next words.
"We've established ourselves as a force in Gotham," Kian continued, "but Gotham is just one city. The real challenge, the true legacy, lies in extending our influence beyond these borders. Imagine a network where our reach is felt in every major city—where our power is indisputable, where we control not only crime but the very fate of society."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Kian's eyes shifted toward the maps spread out on the table, his gaze lingering on Metropolis.
"We'll start with Blüdhaven and Star City," Kian said, his tone unyielding. "Those cities share similar structures to Gotham, and they're vulnerable to someone with the right resources and strategy. Once we secure our footing there, we'll move toward Metropolis."
"Metropolis is going to be tough," Deadshot pointed out. "With Superman keeping a watchful eye, there's not much that happens in that city without his knowledge."
"True," Kian agreed, "which is why we won't make a direct move on Metropolis, not yet. We're going to be strategic about this. Superman's focus is on large-scale threats. We'll begin with subtle operations, keeping below his radar until we're ready."
Jason nodded, a grim smile on his face. "Starting with Blüdhaven is smart. Nightwing's often tied up between Gotham and Blüdhaven, and he's less likely to mobilize if we don't pose a direct threat right away."
Kian's expression remained calm but resolute. "That's the idea. We're not here to challenge the heroes outright, not until we're strong enough to win. We're here to build a foundation that cannot be shaken, not even by the likes of Superman or Batman."
Deadshot leaned forward, intrigued. "What about Metropolis's underworld? Luthor, Intergang—they're forces to be reckoned with."
"I'm well aware," Kian replied. "Lex Luthor is an asset we could potentially turn, given the right incentive. He's a man of ambition, and he respects strength. But first, we'll build our influence in places he may not be watching as closely. By the time he realizes the scale of our operation, we'll be too valuable for him to ignore."
There was a moment of silence as the team absorbed the strategy. Kian could feel their commitment solidifying, their understanding of his vision deepening.
"Now," Kian continued, his gaze shifting to the maps again, "let's talk specifics. Jason, you'll lead our efforts in Blüdhaven. With your knowledge of the city and its players, you'll be able to establish control quietly, focusing on key sectors."
Jason gave a nod of agreement, the familiar spark of purpose lighting up his eyes. "Consider it done."
"Deadshot, I want you coordinating logistics between Gotham and Blüdhaven. Supplies, weaponry, and personnel—all under your watch. We can't afford any interruptions."
Deadshot grinned, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in his gaze. "I'll make sure everything runs like clockwork."
"Deathstroke," Kian said, turning to his trusted strategist, "I need you to monitor our progress in Star City. If there's any opposition, handle it with precision. Keep it quiet, keep it contained."
Deathstroke's smirk was faint but menacing. "As always."
The atmosphere in the room crackled with energy, each man focused and ready to act. Kian couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight. This team was more than capable, and together, they were an unstoppable force. His vision was on the brink of becoming reality.
As the meeting drew to a close, Kian's mind shifted to another pressing matter. He addressed his team once more, his tone contemplative.
"One last thing," he began, "I've come to realize that I've barely tapped into my full potential. My telekinesis has grown exponentially, and I intend to cultivate it further. We'll need weapons and technology that align with our capabilities, things that push us beyond conventional power."
He paused, observing their reactions. "We already have a supply of kryptonite. I suggest we continue developing specialized weaponry so that we are always prepared , a single bullet or two might not be enough sometimes.
Jason raised an eyebrow, intrigued clearly .
Kian continued "We need weapons that give us an edge against the world's most powerful beings. If there's one lesson Gotham's taught us, it's that you can't rely on brute strength alone. We need to be prepared for anything."
A murmur of approval moved around the table. Deadshot leaned back, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. "I'll oversee the development. Kryptonite bullets, maybe even some enhanced armor modifications. We'll make sure nothing can stand in our way."
Satisfied, Kian rose from his seat, his mind already racing with the possibilities. The groundwork was set, and now it was time to execute. His telekinetic powers surged within him, a constant reminder of the strength he had yet to fully unleash.
"Everyone has their assignments," Kian concluded. "We'll regroup in a few days. Until then, stay focused and keep this operation tight."
With a final nod, the team dispersed, each member heading out to carry out their role in Kian's expanding empire. As he watched them leave, Kian felt a deep sense of purpose settle over him. This wasn't just about control—it was about legacy, about reshaping the very nature of power itself.
As the days passed, Kian's team moved swiftly, their influence spreading through Blüdhaven and Star City like a shadow that no one could escape. Jason's operations in Blüdhaven went smoothly, his knowledge of the city's criminal underworld proving invaluable as he established contacts and secured territory. Deadshot ensured that all logistics ran flawlessly, while Deathstroke kept any potential threats at bay.
And Kian, meanwhile, focused on honing his abilities. He pushed his telekinesis to new limits, testing how much he could lift, how far he could reach. With each passing day, his strength grew, and so did his control. He could feel objects as if they were extensions of himself, sense their weight, their resistance, their texture. It was a power he was beginning to wield effortlessly, and he relished the feeling.
One evening, as he was practicing alone, he felt a strange tugging at the edge of his mind, like a whisper that refused to be ignored. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but there. Focusing, he extended his telekinesis further than he ever had, reaching out beyond his immediate surroundings, testing the boundaries of his control. The sensation grew stronger, clearer, until he could sense the faintest tremor of thought—someone, somewhere, aware of him.
He pulled back, letting the sensation fade, but the experience left him with a sense of possibility. If his powers continued to grow, if he could sense people as if they were mere objects… the implications were endless.
Returning to his desk, Kian made a mental note to explore this new facet of his powers later. But for now, his focus remained on the task at hand: expanding their influence, strengthening their grip on Gotham, Blüdhaven, and beyond.