DC: I am Dr Doom

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*****

I knew the prankster villain that the Flash always faces is located within Coast City, and that would be on the other side of the states, so there was no way I would be able to talk shop with him until I completed my work on the teleporter. I made a note to myself to have a conversation with Captain Cold or Mr. Freeze later. I'm sure they would like some business opportunities to fill their coffers with clean cash.

Noticing the vehicle following behind, I revved the engine and gunned it down the straight then took a curve turn. That was where I leaned the bike right then at the last second I switched shooting down the road to the left cutting off traffic and everything else in my way. It was far too easy to lose the low powered sedan that thought I wasn't paying attention to them following me.

Silently I scoffed at whoever had such a notion of following one such as I. A flick and change of gears had me shooting down the street before taking a right into an underground garage. Swiftly, I made my way to the top as I listened out for my followers. I opened my mind creating a sort of mental sonar that I had developed for tracking those in my surroundings. From the very first iteration, I realized the sheer magnitude of my abilities. A single passive display of power allowed me to cover nearly half the United States, effortlessly reaching across vast distances. Perhaps it was the raw, unrestrained might of the Sage Force itself, or perhaps it was the extreme, intricate modifications I made to my mind to unlock and harness such overwhelming potential.

Even in its infancy, the power felt staggeringly overpowered, as though it was never meant for mortal hands. Yet, despite all the uncertainty surrounding its origins, I find myself leaning toward one conclusion: it wasn't the Sage Force alone. No, this level of mastery was a direct result of my own designs—my relentless pursuit to break every limit and redefine what power could be.

What I was able to notice with the mental sonar was more than just another person's mind, I was picking up their nervous systems and their mental projection of thoughts. There were already plans in place for me to take advantage of such vast telekinetic talent.

That was not only unnecessary but would also draw unwanted attention from other telepaths or magic users that might feel the true breadth of my mind. Placing those thoughts aside, I parked my motorcycle in a free parking space, activating the security I took to the skies. Keeping my helmet to help filter out the air of Gotham, it didn't take me long to find the store with the parts that I would need.

For what I had planned, I would need a few microcircuit boards. Unfortunately for me, the only dealer I could procure such an item from would be on the shadier side of town.

Touching down lightly within a back alley of sorts, I exert my power over the locking mechanism to allow myself entry within the store. Wrapping myself within a field that produced an influence of another's mind, I was able to wall around with everyone, not noticing my presence. With that, I boldly walked through the store and out the front.

Taking a left, I went over two more stores before I found the shady parts supply store that I was looking for. Ignoring the man I noticed behind the counter, I scanned the store for anyone else before noticing the hidden camera within a clock hanging on the wall.

It would seem that this proprietor would like to keep track of the information on the clients that buy his materials. A twitch of my brows broke the camera by overloading the micro board that controlled the unit. It was also such a shame that the tape deck became ruined in a fashion that matches the hidden camera. With a smirk on my lips, I finished checking the rest of this establishment before dropping my cloak.

The owner jumped in surprise then reached for the shotgun under the counter.

"Ahh, no," I said, raising a finger that stopped him dead in his tracks. "I have only come to pick up my order. Reach for your weapon once more, and you will find yourself with medical bills or maybe ventilation of your cranium."

"Alright, alright, just don't kill me man." The owner all but stuttered out.

"Perform your duties as the owner of this establishment, and there will be no bloodshed this day."

Holding him there, I looked into his eyes and let him understand the severity of the situation and what would befall him if he were to attempt anything. I could be magnanimous when needed, but I can also be ruthless when the time calls for it. There was no need to steal such things when I could pay for it, but I was also not remissed about removing a problem that might arise due to this transaction.

I knew he understood what I was dishing out as the sweat poured down the side of his face. He shivers as the fear sets in, and the sweaty palms said it all to my senses. With a nod of finality, I placed the owner back on the ground and removed my hold over him.

"Now, I came to pick up a shipment of micro boards under the name Doom."

"Ye, ye, yes sir, right away sir."

With that, I watched as the owner ran into the back room as I looked around the place for anything that might interest me. There was nowhere else to get the tech I wanted without being on the radar of Bruce. With his Wayne tech, that man had a spy in place for all major tech industries besides LexCorp and Queen industries. Most of the other companies just don't carry the expertise that can detect what Wayne or Luthor has accomplished with their stranglehold on the industry.

It took time to work around such things, but it was turning out to be well worth it for my long term and short term plans. For example, this store owner was one of the very few that had access to sell technology created by Professor Ivo himself. The owner didn't even know he was the salesperson for the mad genius professor, but Mercy knew, and that was all that mattered.

The work I had completed within the mind of Luthor was quality over quantity and buried deep within his subconscious, but it was best not to rock that boat when I had access to the one that will rule his empire in the unfortunate fate of his demise.

Two apex predators may not roam the same hunting grounds without blood inevitably drawn.

The back beads rang out, drawing me out of my musings as the owner came back to the front with the items that I have been waiting for. Ignoring the man, I summoned the box to my person to examine the micro-programing boards I had been waiting for. Five wafer-thin boards floated before my person; each of these could be installed within anything from a supercomputer to the satellites in space to the space ships that the Justice League uses.

Taking note of the integrated processors that Ivo had installed for me per my specifications, I gave the owner a nod before sending a stack of bills onto the counter. Soon, I would like to get my hands on the schematics to Amazo, but I would have to settle for these boards today. Amazo was not the only way to take on Superman without the rocks, but it was an option.

Placing back up a field that would allow me to go unnoticed, I left the store for the alleyway around the corner. With a small jump, I took to flying back to my motorcycle.

When I arrived, I found my motorcycle blocked in by four nondescript vehicles. It would seem that a color change would be in order, but first, let's check to see who hired these goons. Landing next to my bike, I sent out a wave of telepathic force that stuns everyone within the vehicles. Ignoring the rest, I found myself the leading goon in command.

The place I found him was in a Cadillac that looked alike in this dimension, and he didn't see me coming when I struck. There were no basic defenses I found as I took the information I wanted. What I found wasn't too much of a surprise to me considering where I am. These goons worked for Black Mask, one of the largest mobsters.

With a snort, I sent the vehicles three spaces down from my location. It was beneath me to work for some two-bit gangster who thought a little bit of money, and a moniker placed him on my radar. He had nothing I needed or wanted; the only things I see working with someone like him would be the downsides. Also, given what I know about his personality, I might end up killing him before any partnership could be put into place.

Ego or not, there were no deals to be had with a man that would like to place himself above my station. Tossing a leg over my bike, I zipped up my jacket and placed my helmet onto my head. My motorcycle revved to life as I closed down my visor. The red blinking light attracted my attention, but I paid it no mind as I lifted both my bike and myself from the top of the car park.

I flew three blocks to the west before touching down in a side alley away from the cameras. With a mental push, the button located on the side of my helmet activated the neural receptor. The display fluttered as I went through my options: weather, air traffic control, and traffic.

Four things pinged all at once; the traffic cam brought up a location ping; I got a profile on two drivers, and Harley's message played with the accompanying video.

"Doomey, I'm gonna be late for lunch."

I could hear the shake in her voice like she was running from something. The video showed what I was wondering, and I found out that I was correct. Some goons of some sort were chasing behind Harley. Well, the ones she didn't already brain with her bat. The video played out until someone hit her with a car from her blind angle.

That sparked a little anger within me. Whoever they are tied Harley up and placed her in the back of the van. The goons wore half and half suits that were clearly dyed in two different colors. There was no stopping the groan that escaped my lips.

"Calling Waylon." My helmet responded into my ears as my mental commands began to fly. I didn't wait for the connection as I shot off out of the alley.

Someone was going to die today.

***

Waylon was relaxing back in one of the chairs located on the porch. Today he had one of the most grueling workouts since he was able to get his body fixed. Waylon had gone through hard training in reaction time and healing thanks to the demonic robot that his boss had created.

Waylon leaned back, sighing in the contentment of a hard day training. Before he could take a sip of the ice tea, his phone began to ring. There was no missing the foreboding feeling that ran down his spine.

With a gulp, Waylon answered the phone. What he heard on the other side was the odd hum of his boss's bike. He was even able to pick up the odd hiss as the speed changed with whatever action was taking place.

"Yes, sir?" Waylon answered as he stood up.

"The Two-Face Gang has Harley, she killed a few, but they hit her with a truck and kidnapped her." Waylon's boss Vioncet spoke over the line rapidly. "I'm in pursuit but called that charred face fucker and tell him; he's a dead man if he doesn't let whatever issue he has with Harley go."

"Boss, nobody has seen Dent since the break out of Arkham." Waylon replied as his other hand went over his bald head in panic. There was no reply on the other line, for a moment Waylon thought his boss had hung upon him. Then there was a grunt on the other line; then there was silence.

"Shit, shit, shiiiit." Waylon breathed panicking. Without a second word, Waylon vaulted off the porch heading for the greenhouse.

"Ivy, Ivyyyyy." Waylon yelled as he barrelled into the greenhouse, looking for help.

What Waylon found were some very aggressive plants that wanted to skewer him.

"What do you want?" Ivy with clear ice in her voice as she looked at the broken beaker within her hand.

"Dent took Harley and the boss on the warpath." Waylon replied as he eyed the plants ready to strike at him.

"When?" Ivy hissed out as she stalked closer to Waylon's position.

"Just a little bit ago, the boss is in pursuit." Waylon responded in a clean fashion; all fear gone now that he had her full attention.

"And you're sure it's Dent and his crew." Ivy returned, trying to make sure that everything was clear cut. Before Waylon could reply, the smartwatch on Ivy's wrist came alive, showing her the kidnapping and the police profiles hacked from the GCPD. "Fuck."

"What do you want me to do? I don't know where Dent is?" Waylon asked since he normally didn't talk to the ex-lawyer.

"Get the car; I know a few of Harvey's hideouts since he used to give me legal advice." Ivy replied as she placed away her lab tools. "The least I can do is prevent Vic from ripping his spine out."

"Do you think there will be anyone else out of Harley now that word of the Joker's demise is spreading?" Waylon asked while pressing the summon button on the car fob.

"I would hope not since Vic would surely kill them for such a thing, but that is not for me to speculate on." Ivy replied as she followed behind Waylon out of the greenhouse labs.

***

The van that had Harley in it spotted me as I rounded the corner. The eyes of the driver met my own, that was when he knew; he fucked up. All of the cameras died along the beltway that leads into the Kelt tunnels that lead to Bludhaven. There would be no witnesses, but I had to swerve off to the left, missing the turn to a car driving out in front of me.

I wanted to snarl and rage as I came to a stop letting the van get away from me. My head whipped around to see who was foolish enough to impede my path. There was no stopping the grimace that escaped me as I noticed the little old lady behind the wheel that looked so confused and lost.

Tch...

The truck drove away into the tunnels while I turned around to attend to the old lady. There was nothing stopping me from finding them after Harley still had her tracker within the smartwatch.

*****

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