"You can't..." Anton muttered, struggling.
"I can. Let's test that theory," Hawkgirl called out.
Hawkgirl threw her mace, rushing alongside it. The mace phased through Anton, who was backing away. As the mace was passing through, Hawkgirl swept his legs.
He went down hard, his concentration broken as he resolidified, landing on the roof. Hawkgirl continued, placing her knee on his back and using her other hand to hold his wrists.
Anton tried to phase again, to no success. Hawkgirl pressed her mace against Anton's back and pressed cuffs around his wrists.
"Your cloak is no longer working. Nth metal has the handy trick of negating magic when in contact. It's over, Anton," said Hawkgirl.
Anton struggled and writhed, trying to go intangible again. He tried every power at his disposal, and none worked.
"I preserved history! I protected it!" Anton yelled in protest, his voice cracking.
"By stealing it. You nearly killed ten people just to get to my artefacts. You're an obsessive psycho who used the power you stumbled upon to fill your greed. You tried to cut off my wings, you uptight prick," Hawkgirl snapped back, tightening the cuffs.
"Are you any different? You have such beauty, and you use it to play superhero!" Anton yelled back.
"I use their power for good. There's the difference," Hawkgirl replied.
Police helicopters arrived, their spotlights lighting up the rooftop. Sophist tiped his hat and then dissapeared. Officers arrived via the roof access, and Hawkgirl stood, pulling Anton up with her. She handed him over to the police.
"The Fadeaway Man, also known as Anton Lamont. He's all yours," Hawkgirl told the officer.
They took Anton and led him away. He struggled and shouted about his appreciation for art as they pushed him down the stairs.
"How did you catch him?" An officer asked out of curiosity.
"I had a little advice from someone." Hawkgirl replied, staring up to the sky.
She didn't mention Sophist by name. The officer nodded, asking a few more questions about their confrontation before letting her go. Hawkgirl tried to spread out her wings, but the pain was still too much. In the end, she had to walk.
She looked out at the road, watching as Anton was pushed into the armoured police van heading straight to prison. It was finally over.
Sophist found Hawkgirl on her walk home, teleporting in her path. She didn't know how he knew where she was or why he was there. He stood facing her, his hands still in his pockets with police sirens in the distance.
"How are your wings?" he asked.
"Still painful, but they'll heal with time. I'll be fine in a few days," she replied.
"Good. You did well. You figured out how to beat him, and it took some good thinking to find him in the first place," Sophist said.
"Thanks to your advice."
"I just nudged you forward a little. You would have figured it out eventually. Anton is heading to Iron Heights as we speak. He'll be processed within the hour," Sophist said, pulling out his phone and checking it.
"You're tracking the transport?"
"I track everything... You're wondering why I helped again, aren't you?" Sophist responded.
"I am."
"This time is a little different. He interfered with my game, so I wanted to get rid of him, but I thought it would be a good test for you, so I let him play around a little longer," Sophist told her.
Hawkgirl studied him. The man had tortured her multiple times and still does, yet at the end of the day he also saved her on multiple occasions.
"Who are you? Not Sophist. Who are you really underneath the mask?" she asked.
"The person I am is irrelevant," he answered.
Silence fell between them as the city continued to move around them.
"Anton is in jail now. You should be happy, no?" Hawkgirl asked.
"Should be. But variables have a tendency to return. Prison isn't permanent," Sophist answered.
"What does that mean?" Hawkgirl said something in his voice made her skin prickle.
"Go home, Shayera. Let your wings heal. I have things I need to attend to," Sophist told her and disappeared.
Hawkgirl was now standing alone, and then she knew. She pulled out her comm. "Batman! I think Sophist is going to kill Anton."
"Where are you?"
"Three blocks from the arrest site. I just spoke to him," Hawkgirl answered.
"He'll be going to the prison. Get there and stop him," Batman said.
"I can't! My wings are too badly damaged," Hawkgirl replied.
"I told the prison. It's up to them then," Batman said.
Hawkgirl knew it didn't matter and that it was already too late.
Anton was sat in his holding cell, his head in his hands. The cloak was confiscated. Everything that made him special was gone. He was just Anton again.
They'd charge him and convict him. He would spend years, decades, in prison. Then Sophist appeared besides him.
"Hello Anton."
"How did you... this is a secure facility," Anton shivered, jerking back.
"Teleportation of my level makes most security irrelevant. I believe we need to talk," Sophist replied, stepping closer.
"I'm not talking to you! 'You're the reason I'm here in the first place, by helping that winged bitch," Anton replied.
"You made yourself my problem when you interfered with my game. Now you're in jail, so the variable is managed," Sophist said, dusting the bed opposite him before sitting down.
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm considering if I should just get rid of the variable altogether. Who knows what you could do in the future? I'm here to decide if you live or die, Anton," Sophist answered.
"You're...you're joking." Anton stared at Sophist, fear creeping into his eyes.
"I'm not much of a comedian. You nearly killed ten people just because it would make stealing more convenient for you," Sophist said.
"I'll stay in prison. I won't escape, I promise..."
"I don't care for the words of a thief," Sophist replied.
"We can work together! You're always putting Hawkgirl through those death games. I've seen it on the news. You can finally kill her in one of your games, and I can get her wings! We both win," Anton stuttered, desperate to live.
Sophist was quiet.
"We're not that different. You make games. I collect. We both do what we do because we have a higher purpose. We don't need to be..."
BANG
Sophist was now holding a gun in his hand. A bullet hole was now in Anton's head. His head snapped back and he fell, a wet cloud of blood on the wall behind him.
Sophist looked at the body for a moment. He told himself it was necessary. He places the gun back in its holster as the alarms start to blare.
Hawkgirl rushed into her apartment and turned on the TV immediately, hoping what she thought didn't become true.
"Shocking footage from Iron Heights Prison tonight shows Anton Lamont, known as the Fadeaway Man, murdered in his holding cell just an hour after arrest. We want to warn viewers that the following security footage, while blurred, may still be disturbing," said the anchor.
The screen changed and switched to grainy security camera footage. It showed the brief conversation before Sophist shot Anton, the murder heavily censored.
"Authorities have identified the suspect as the villain known only as Sophist, wanted for multiple counts of terrorism and now murder..." the anchor continued before Hawkgirl turned off the TV.
Murder. Sophist killed someone because they were not a part of his plans.
Shayera sat in silence, letting the truth play around in her head. She thought about the time they talked before he killed him.
He murdered him in cold blood. She wanted to understand the man behind the mask. She thought she did for a while. Now she wasn't sure.
CLASSIFIED LOCATION
Dr Pritchard stood in the containment lab, staring at the organism behind the reinforced glass. It was approximately three feet in diameter. Alien. Covered in what they thought were sensory nodes.
"Where did the recovery team find it?" she asked.
"Pacific Ocean, deep in the water around twenty miles off the coast of California," replied the commander, checking his tablet.
"It's confirmed to be non-terrestrial?" she asked.
"DNA tests came back ninety minutes ago, and it seems to have no relation to anything on planet Earth... What is it?" the commander asked, stepping closer to the glass.
"Best guess? Some kind of colonial organism. The starfish mimicry is very interesting though," Dr Pritchard answered, pulling up data on her tablet.
"Is it dangerous?"
"I don't know. It's too early to tell. No hostile action has been documented, though. It just... pulses," she replied.
"Keep it contained. I want to know immediately if anything new is discovered. Hell, I want to know if it even moves an inch," the commander ordered.
"Yes, sir."
They left the lab together, leaving the organism behind with no one knowing what it truly was.