“What, come to gloat at the fallen king, again?” The tired yet mocking voice echoed down the hall unnaturally - and Dick frowned.
They had no idea what this building had been used for. Just one day it came onto their - Batman’s - radar with a concerning number of unlicensed and unofficial military personnel… and now it was empty, hastily packed up and abandoned by the day they’d intended to check it out. They’d not gotten a clue of what this place was for, outside of automatic systems firing on Red Hood of all people. Not even giving the rest of them a single thought. In fact, Batman stepping in the path stopped the automatic machines.
“What’s the matter? Normally you’re laughing it up - lemme guess, did Boxy give you the slip again? Maybe Ember caught you in her songs yet again. The lot of you are simply incompetent, I swear.” There was something about the way the voice said the word incompetent that tickled at Dick’s brain, but he couldn’t place it at the moment.
He tapped his comm before moving down the hall, easily finding the only occupied cell.
The being looked awful. Their clothing appeared to be some sort of modified royal regalia - which, Dick realized, lent some credibility to the idea the other was a king - but had been torn and ripped to shreds. They had wounds that were sluggishly weeping a toxic green and their eyes were hazy, as if they weren’t able to see what was in front of them. If comparing them to a human would create an accurate assessment, they looked sickly and malnourished. He’d be surprised if someone told him the other had more than one meal a week for several months. “Awfully silent there, Agent A,” the being smirked in Dick’s general direction - he jolted slightly, realizing the being literally couldn’t see - and Dick grimaced at the codename. “No big, evil plans to destroy my Realms? No demands for me to help you capture my subjects? Not coming in here to make sure I don’t get any bright ideas about escaping? What’s the plan of the day, hm?”
“I’m not Agent A,” Dick didn’t know how to start this conversation, really, but that seemed like a safe starting point.
The being tried sitting up, movements limited as more glowing green trickled out of them, before grimacing and going back to their slumped position. The frown the king sent towards Dick was equal parts a misdirected glare and confusion. “No, you’re not,” the being agreed, “who are you then? Still haven’t gotten my eyesight back from your latest inane tests, fuck you very much, but I don’t recognize that voice.” Dick’s eyebrows raised and he heard Jason snort over the otherwise silent comms.
“Ah, I’m not part of… whatever this place was. I’m Nightwing,” Dick started, prepared to explain further that the Justice League was investigating this and a few other facilities like it that had come to their attention, when the king snorted.
“Sure, and I’m the Riddler.” The being stated drily. “The Justice League don’t give a damn about my people or the GIW, try again.”
Dick paused, tilting his head slightly - that tone of voice… “Why do you say that?”
The king sent as incredulous a look as they could towards Dick before they seemed almost… resigned. “Right, we’re gonna go this route, huh? A reminder that no one is going to save me or whatever? Fine, sure, might as well.” The being huffed a sigh, the sound worrisome if Dick were being totally honest. If the being were human, he’d be either getting them immediate medical attention and their lungs checked out or setting about trying to make their last moments as comfortable as possible. “Hm, let’s see, our first few calls to the JL were written off as prank calls, then I presume we called too many times - so our calls then got rerouted to you imbeciles.” Dick knows who this being was reminding him of, he knows he does, it was just on the tip of his tongue. “Tuck sent out some distress calls himself directly to a few superheroes, including Batman since you’re masquerading yourself as one of his associates.” Bruce grunted over the comm, which Dick interpreted as I never got those calls. “Then, as I’m sure you’re well aware of as Agent A gloats about it all the time, you employed one of the Justice League to help capture me. You wouldn’t have been successful in the least if you didn’t have their tech and influence. Though, the fact that you got my adoptive parents to get the drop on me helped immensely.”
There was no sound as Dick and his family processed that explanation.
The king spoke up again, seemingly unaware that they’d thrown them all for a loop, “so, did I pass? Or are we going back to the table?” Their tone was impatient, obviously wanting to dismiss whoever they thought Dick was, but with a tired wariness that came from knowing whoever it was would not leave and that they’d likely inflict pain upon the being.
“If you believe the Justice League aren’t going to help,” Dick tried wording it as carefully as he could, “then why won’t your people?”
“I’ve already told you all this,” the king growled, eyes flickering with a glow of power. The display made Dick wary - if the being could summon power while in this pitiful state, then how powerful were they actually? “I made a royal decree, telling them to avoid you lot specifically. Maybe get your head out of your asses and communicate a little better.”
“I found the power and security,” Tim said over the comm, breaking up the silence that’d permeated the device as they listened in on the conversation happening. A couple seconds later, the faint buzz Dick could hear faded and the door to the cell unlocked. “You’re safe to extract them now; medical has been set up in front of the building.”
Dick hurried to open the door, “we’re gonna need a lot more than a few bandages, Red.”
“I can see that,” Tim stated drily, likely cataloging what he could see of the being’s wounds.
“Alright, your majesty, I’m going to be moving you to a safe place to try to take care of your wounds,” Dick approached the being that was vaguely following his movements, wary of the previous power display, “so uh, please don’t attack me?”
The king frowned, had been since the moment Dick referred to them as your majesty, but didn’t protest being carefully lifted into Dick’s arms despite their confusion outside of a grimace of pain.
By all rights, the being looked as if they should be screaming.
It was a bit of a walk from the cell to the entrance, even with Dick hurrying as much as he dared, so he continued asking questions - easier ones this time. “So, what’s your name?”
The being snorted - then winced at whatever pain that had brought up, “you really have no clue what’s going on here, huh. King Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms, Protector of Balance, yadda yadda, a bunch of titles that mean jack shit at the moment since I am, all in all, a glorified test subject.”
“And uh, how old are you?”
King Phantom didn’t respond for a moment, before weakly asking their own question. “What is the date?” When Dick responded, the King seemed to deflate even more. “I’m 16, then.”
Dick hesitated, “and… how old were you when you were captured?”
“It was a week before my 15th birthday.” More than a year. More than a year, this kid the same age as Dick’s baby brother had been in captivity, being treated as a test subject - worse than, considering their wounds weren’t even treated and they were left to die in their cell if Dick hadn’t checked that floor.
Dick could hear crashing and cursing on the other end of his comm, certain Jason was trashing whatever he could in a rage, before the sound was abruptly cut off as Tim filtered the loud noises out of the connection.
“I’m sorry,” Dick said sincerely - and the king just stared at him, despite the lack of vision.
The rest of the trek was done in silence.
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