It was utterly embarrassing to be carried throughout the Hall of Justice, especially by someone Harper couldn't recall ever meeting before. She missed the security of her wheelchair and the independence it gave her, and now more than ever she wished that it had been dragged into the wormhole with her.
"So, who are you exactly?" She asked in a half-hearted attempt to break the awkward silence. "Clark seemed to know you, but I don't think we've ever met."
Veran looked slightly taken back by the question, but quickly recovered. "We've definitely met. Well...I know the taller, broader, stronger and overall more attractive version of you. Are you perhaps an older clone?"
Harper's mind blanked. She had no idea what he could be referring to, and so she resorted back to her original enquiry. "I asked first."
"Surely you've at least heard of me? Prince Veran. Ocean Master of Atlantis, commander of her armies and protector of the seven seas." At the oblivious expression that remained on Harper's face, Veran furrowed his brow. "Heir to the throne of Atlantis, son of King Orin and Queen Camille...?"
A gasp of air shivered through Harper's lungs. Orin was Aquaman's Atlantean name. "Arthur has a son?"
Veran whistled. "Either you were struck on the head rather viciously, or you have been residing under a boulder for a long period of time."
The crowned prince turned left, stepping into a large room that Harper wasn't aware had even existed. Inside stood a few members of this mysterious new 'Justice League', most of which Harper still couldn't recognise. One was a mammoth of a man; incredibly tall and bulging with so much muscle that even his combat shirt couldn't hide it. He was speaking to a girl with long blonde hair and a familiar 'S' symbol on her chest. They didn't pay much attention to Veran as he entered but Martian Manhunter, who had been sitting in the corner, immediately hovered towards them.
"J'onn...thank god. What the hell's going on around here?" Harper sighed with relief. It was comforting to see a familiar face that hadn't changed. Truly, he hadn't aged even nearly as much as Clark had; perhaps due to the fact that this green humanoid body wasn't his true form. He could shapeshift at will, and so growing old was a fluid concept to him. At least as far as appearance was concerned.
It took only one short look for J'onn to realise who she was. He had a photographic memory, and so he could recall everything from the length of her hair to the clothes she was wearing. With his curiosity spiking, the Martian Manhunter peered deep into Harper's mind, unlocking over two centuries of memories...but only daring to look at the most recent ones. He saw her fall into their world, and immediately understood what that meant. "Experimenting with singularities, Miss Reid? It appears that you are much less careful than I initially supposed."
Harper's brow twitched. "I thought you respected people's privacy, J'onn." She murmured, noticeably irritated at the Martian's invasion of privacy.
"Times have changed. It is far safer for me to know the minds of everyone. That way, I am able to prevent incidents before they happen."
"So...thought crimes are a thing now?"
J'onn's eyes narrowed before he changed the subject "Let us return to the matter at hand. You do not belong here, so we must find a way to return you to your point of origin. Perhaps your...successor will be able to assist."
"Successor?" Harper jabbed. "Wait, first of all, what do you mean by 'point of origin'? This all seems familiar...enough. I'm at the right point in space, right?"
"You have suffered from a case of temporal displacement." J'onn answered.
Harper squinted. "Wait. I...accidentally travelled into the future? How far?"
"My estimate would be around twenty five Earth years."
The shock that finally consumed Harper was indescribable. She had missed twenty-five years of her life; skipped forward to a time she wasn't meant to see. It was too much for even someone like her to grasp...that did explain the abundance of newcomers though.
The two others that had been chatting amongst themselves suddenly appeared interested in the conversation, and before Harper could utter a single word, they had sauntered over. The girl spoke first with a slight southern accent that promised of long days in the countryside. "Well gawd damn. You're really from the past? Ain' that a kick in the teeth..."
Harper found herself staring at the woman for a few seconds too long. She looked like Silvia...only taller, and ultimately bigger in every single way. "Ahh...who are you?"
"Jessica Kent, don' the costume give it away?"
Harper could only barely find the presence of mind to shake her head. She was face to face with another child of the Justice League...this entire situation was weird enough without throwing that into the mix. The man next to Jessica crossed his arms, expression sharpening. "We should inform Doctor Fate. He can get her home quicker than anyone else."
"The only problem is that he is not here, Dionysus. Doctor Fate has not been spotted in weeks." Martian Manhunter explained to the amazon male. "He is not so easy to track. For now, we should send her to her counterpart."
J'onn closed his eyes in concentration, and a few seconds later a familiar silver wheelchair hovered into the room. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, but once he had released it from his mind's grip, Harper was all too happy to have some small semblance of independence again. She practically forced Veran to drop her into the wheelchair, and for the first time since her arrival, she felt a wave of contentment. At last, she didn't have to rely on anyone else to move her.
"I think I saw her in the east wing." Dionysus informed Harper with a strong, disciplined tone to his voice. "But is it really wise for them to meet? No one should know too much about their future."
"Every point in time has multiple possible futures. This is only one infinitesimal possibility, and if we let that prevent us from confronting Harper's presence than she will never return to where she is needed." J'onn replied sternly before turning his eyes back towards the woman of discussion. "Go to the east wing. If anyone has a chance of sending you home, it is your successor. You both have memories of the singularity inducer being created, after all."
"Something tells me that's not gonna help..." Harper sighed. She had intricate recollections of the thing being made, but all understanding of it had been lost to the ages. She doubted that another version of herself was going to help much, but it was better than sitting around helplessly.
"Shall I accompany you?" Veran asked with such poise that it was difficult to argue his royal blood.
"No...I can find my own way." Harper swiftly manoeuvred herself out of the room, happy to discover that the chip in this wheelchair reacted efficiently with her implant. Veran looked as if he might argue against her leaving without assistance, but the look on Martian Manhunter's face silenced him. Harper needed time alone, J'onn knew that better than anyone, without the unwelcome company of a complete stranger.
The Hall of Justice was completely different to how she remembered it, especially the east wing. It looked as if it had only been rebuilt recently. Harper could only assume that some incredibly large battle destroyed the previous structure. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time.
She passed by many people on her way, some she recognised, and others she had never seen before. One of the newest members looked a lot like one of Victor's old Titan's friends, Starfire, only she had a head of long black hair more akin to Blackfire's. She wore a dark purple costume that showed so much cleavage that Harper almost felt uneasy just by looking at it. The same thing had happened when she saw Starfire...it was practically impossible to ignore.
As she debated who exactly this Tamaranean could be, Harper realised that she had no idea which room she was meant to be looking for. Being told to go to the 'east wing' really wasn't much information to go on. There were at least twenty different rooms in this area alone. Harper analysed the doors surrounding her and made a random selection based on nothing but guesswork.
She moved herself towards one located to her immediate right when she heard a husky, and very womanly, voice speak behind her "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
The sound somewhat startled Harper, and the wheelchair seemed to mimic her mind's fright because it whipped her around so fast that it sucked all the air out of her lungs. It didn't help to find a woman of at least 6 feet 2 inches leering over at her.
"Why not? Hidin' something?" Harper asked smugly.
The woman's lips quirked upward. They were a perfect bow shape, and gave the appearance of being subtly painted with light pink lipstick...though Harper doubted that she was wearing any. Her eyes were a different story. There was an obviously large amount of eyeshadow around them, which only made the bright green irises even more prominent against her short blonde hair. "There's a few people in there that are very important to me. I wouldn't want you to frighten them."
"Wow..." Harper feigned insult, but the woman's words rung hollow in Harper's ears. She was going to let a nobody offend her. Instead, she turned straight to sarcasm; something that she had come to rely on over the past few years. "Is the wheelchair really that intimidating?"
"Not the wheelchair. The lady sitting in it." The woman stepped a little closer, and now the sheer size and tone of her arm muscles became painfully apparent. "You've been gone a long time, and having you suddenly reappear out of thin air might be a little weird for some people."
"Sorry that me being stranded here is such an inconvenience for you, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be a bigger problem for me." Harper scoffed, letting her eyes scan the massive woman harshly. "Am I supposed to know who you are?"
"I suppose not." She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed with exasperation. "I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity to meet you, not that I ever wanted to anyway. J'onn told me about what happened, I think I can figure this out."
A light finally switched inside of Harper's skull, and her entire expression displayed this sudden realisation. "Are you like a sidekick I adopted that eventually took up my callsign?"
The blonde woman raised an eloquently shaped eyebrow in Harper's direction, but didn't respond. She simply spun on her heels and strutted back down the hall; clearly expecting Harper to mindlessly follow her. Harper frowned and yelled after her "What do I call you then?"
She paused, moved her hands to her hips and then peered over her shoulder. "Harper."
There was a sudden disconnect between the information that she was receiving, and her mind's capability to process it. This woman couldn't possibly be another clone... She didn't look anything like the younger visage of their progenitor. A clone was an atom-for-atom facsimile; a copy. This was no copy...her skin was flawless, her lips were fuller, her eyes were brighter than even Clark's, and that's not including how incredibly massive she was. Even her two front teeth were nothing like Harper's; which had always been slightly longer than average. This woman's were impeccably straight, and nothing like hers at all.
With a defiant sneer, Harper turned back around once the other woman had continued walking away, and drifted closer to the door. Once she was close enough it opened automatically and she was promptly met with the sight of two people; one repairing a Javelin, a variety of custom-made multi-purpose aircraft used by members of the League for atmospheric or interplanetary travel, and the other leaning against it. The models that Harper saw in the hangar bay were much more sophisticated than the ones from her time.
She didn't know the woman that was working on the ship, but she was definitely acquainted with the man speaking to her. It was Victor, but even he looked different. His cybernetics were less bulky and jagged, and had instead shifted into a smoother design. Each section was so sleek that it shined under the artificial lights. The human side of his face had changed too; there were a few more wrinkles and the general appearance of ageing. It looked like time was an inescapable certainty. Even for a cyborg.