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The last encounter with the Joker did not go very well for Tim Drake. An unexpected explosion, a fall, and a fracture that would prevent him from moving normally for another month. Confined to bed, unable to sit up to do anything, even things related to Wayne Enterprises, the young man was literally going crazy. A little more and he would have tried to hack into the Batcomputer from his phone, because, first of all, he could, and secondly, boredom took precedence. How could he rest? He had so much to do! If he didn't sit down to do them now, he would have to stay up for days on end to make up for at least half of what he had missed. However, alas, every time Tim tried to do something, the Oracle (traitor) immediately sends a signal to Dick or Alfred that he has tried to access a particular program again. The only things left available to him are social networks and video hosting. He can calmly watch some scientific or documentary films, TV series, or anime. But Tim just doesn't want to.
Over the past week, he has already watched everything possible, and some things twice.
That's how Tim stumbled upon the lost pages of unknown channels with second-rate videos. Among them were a lot of tasteless, blatantly trashy, and poorly shot movie parodies (he even found the latter amusing). And the last genre was ghost and UFO footage, those same videos in disgusting quality with a shaky camera, which could be absolutely anything. It was funny. Especially the few comments from people... Among them, Drake found a frankly interesting comment from an unknown guy under the nickname "Ectostar_Material."
Ectostar_Material: Blasphemy. This is mockery of the ghostly people. It's offensive to assume that a ghost looks like a silly pillowcase with holes in it, what a cliché. Not to mention these effects. I'd recognize them anywhere, man, they're from a free editing app on my phone. Everyone knows you can't capture a ghost so clearly on a camera that hasn't been saturated with ectoplasm beforehand.
"Ectoplasm? ... " - Tim thought. According to legend, that was the substance ghosts were made of, wasn't it? Maybe this stranger was one of those conspiracy theorists spouting nonsense, but for some reason, curiosity prompted the detective to investigate the matter more thoroughly. Tim clicked on the ghost guy's channel and watched the videos... There weren't that many, but one playlist stood out in particular: "A magical textbook for avoiding problems."
This guy... took lessons in magic? In science? It seemed like some kind of paranoid delusion and the notes of a madman. Nevertheless, the first video was finally launched:
The camera shakes as they try to turn it around with their hands and point it at themselves. A black-haired teenager with sky-blue eyes appears in the lens. His face looks uncertain, and he shakes the camera a couple of times.
"Is this thing recording?" - the boy asks uncertainly, and another figure appears next to him. A dark-skinned teenager with glasses and a red beret points to the light bulb on the camera:
"It's recording. See? The red dot is lit up." - The boy takes the camera from the blackhaired teenager, who becomes the cameraman. The stranger coughs a couple of times and begins his story, standing at the blackboard, on which he needs to write with a marker. Several cartoon ghosts were drawn on it, along with the inscription: "Ghosts, the Ghost Zone, and what they eat."
— Hello, everyone! My name is Danny, and today we will have our first class, which will introduce you to the subject. First of all, even though our lessons are called "magical," they are actually based entirely on an existing science called ectology. But since that's not a very interesting part, we'll skip it and let you just think of it as magic. The first thing we're going to learn is that I'm not a wizard and I don't know any spells that will allow you to turn someone into a toad or curse your worst enemy. However, if you find yourself in a magical situation that you cannot explain or from which there is no escape, our methods will help you escape or avoid disaster. -
The boy approached the blackboard and wrote the word "ghost" on it, followed by several arrows pointing in different directions.
— So, what is a ghost? It is a creature consisting of ectoplasm, having or carrying a core within itself. Some may say that it is an imprint of post-human consciousness and blah-blah. But this is not entirely correct, since a ghost is a new creature, not a remnant of an old one. A ghost may carry memories and traits from its past if it previously lived or existed as a representative of another race, but this cannot be called a remnant. But I digress... Ghosts are unusual, they are different. They can be divided according to strength and intelligence, and occupy a certain place in the hierarchy.
As the explanations were given, the child wrote on the board and even drew approximate structures. It was like an introductory lesson, where a particular topic is taken up and studied superficially. There is no rough, precise knowledge with statistics or specific biology, but rather important dry facts that everyone should know. General information capable of conveying meaning. Despite all the skepticism of the situation, Tim, for some reason, listened carefully to every word. For the first time, someone had really gone to the trouble of explaining a non-existent phenomenon in detail. Although... How could it be non-existent? Ghosts existed, Red Robin knew that better than anyone, but in his entire career, he had never heard a single fact about ghosts.
— Now, let's move on to the Ghost Zone, or, more accurately, the Infinite Realms. This dimension got its name for a reason; the zone truly stretches infinitely far and infinitely long. You heard right, that's correct. The Infinite Realms, in essence, are the glue that holds all changes together. Through them, you can access alternative versions of timelines, other worlds, and other things. However, it is even easier to get lost there, roughly speaking.
In other words, if you enter the ghost zone without any knowledge, you will get lost and most likely die. But! It should be noted that if you learn the basics, the zone can become your salvation. We will talk about this in the next video. For now, let's move on to ectoplasm. . . -
So, apparently, the child invented an entire dimension. He talked about it as if he personally believed in the nonsense he had made up, convinced that he was right. And Tim was so carried away by his imagination that he began to believe it himself. But he lacked evidence. Everything inside him was boiling, he wanted to see more, even if it was just disgusting pictures edited in Photoshop, to see the so-called "ghost" and the alternative dimension.
Drake was about to fast-forward the video when suddenly the teenager took out a very familiar green liquid, causing Tim to almost drop his phone.
Looking closely, he realized that despite the similarity, the consistency was different. But the resemblance to Lazarus water was simply striking.
"Could he have just randomly picked up some slime or mixed the liquid with dye, or is it really some kind of real substance?"
— And this, my friends, is ectoplasm. In order to perform some of the tasks in our future lessons, you will need ectoplasm in one form or another. I would like to warn you that if you spend a lot of time with this substance and come into contact with it without protective equipment, you may become ecto-infected. It's not as scary as it sounds, but it can have some consequences. But it's best to try to isolate yourself from excessive contamination. In fact, everyone is more or less susceptible to ectoplasmic contamination, which is influenced by many factors, mainly contact with various types of ectoplasm or the very aura of death that haunts you.
The more Danny talked, the more Tim began to believe that Lazarus' water could be some kind of ectoplasm or its manifestation. If the detective tried to put these things together, he would say that ectoplasm is the source material, and Lazarus' water and pits are byproducts.
"STOP, since when did I start believing this? - the thought flashed through his mind. And it was true. The more he listened, the more the idea that the video was the absolute truth took root in his mind.
Tim had to check at least some of the following videos. Exactly. Practice. If this child was telling the truth, then something from his lessons had to work, right?
For example... His gaze fell on a video titled: "Portals and Interdimensional Travel."
Tim turned on the video and held his breath as it loaded. This time, the camera was initially with the operator, who began filming with the words:
Let's go, I'm filming!
Danny nods, then drops the papers he was holding, and they fall into a puddle:
— Nonsense. It was a script. Ahem, okay, let's begin. Sam, don't forget to cut this out later, okay?
The camera slowly panned to a black-haired girl who seemed vaguely familiar to Tim. It felt like he had seen that sullen expression before. Sam...
"Samantha Manson. Right, the Manson's daughter, I saw them once at a gala." - For some reason, this fact made Tim believe even more in what was happening.
The goth girl just smiled and crossed her arms over her chest:
— "No way. I'm leaving it. Don't worry about the pictures, we'll show everything in the montage later."
The camera pointed at Danny again. Were the teenagers on some street right now? It looked like the outskirts of the city. There were no people at all, and somewhere nearby, trees were visible, perhaps the beginning of a forest park. The black-haired teenager began his story:
— So. In one of our videos, we told you about the ghost zone. Today we'll show you how to get there. You might ask, "Why? You said it's dangerous as hell." And you'd be right. However, there are situations when you find yourself in a hopeless situation. Imagine this. You've been kidnapped and locked up in some place with no way out. Or you're lost, you have no cell service, you can't even call 911. Or, in a completely crazy situation, you accidentally find yourself in another dimension with no way out. You realize that time is running out and soon you will be left there to die. That's why we're here.
Suddenly, a drawn animated insert appeared, which read: "Ghosts and Portals." Danny's voiceover began the explanation:
— There are various ways to enter the ghost zone. Sometimes it opens random portals in our reality, and a person can accidentally end up there. There is a way to create an artificial portal that needs to be maintained, but it is extremely dangerous not only for you, but also for those living nearby. There are also ghosts that can search for temporary portals or create their own rifts in space for travel. This is the method we are going to use. -
The insert ended and Danny appeared, holding several items in his hands. One of them was chalk, the other was a bottle of ectoplasm.
— So, for the ritual, we will need a writing instrument and ectoplasm. To avoid any questions later, I will immediately tell you what can be used to replace both items, as well as the conditions. Ha, no one said it would be easy and simple. The teenager gestured for the cameraman to step back:
— First, the place where the ritual is performed must have enough space. You won't be able to do it in a one-meter-by-one-meter box unless you're a damn ghost. Second, the ritual must be performed by a person who is sufficiently ecto-infected or liminal. That is, a person who simply wants to perform the ritual will probably get zero results. It sounds crappy, but it's a fact. -
Tim immediately wondered whether he himself was liminal enough, according to the teenager, to perform the ritual. It seemed to be related to the aura of death? Had Tim been exposed to enough of it? After all, he had come into contact with their green liquid of death, so perhaps that would be enough?
Danny continued his explanation:
— Now. Chalk is just a writing material. You can choose anything, even a pen or a twig, to draw on the sand. You can even draw symbols with your finger, but I still recommend having a tool, as it is easier to write with. But ectoplasm is more complicated. It's quite difficult to obtain. But there are several alternatives. The first is things that are similar in composition to ectoplasm. There aren't many of them, but they're still difficult to obtain. The second is not a very pleasant thing. If a person is sufficiently ectocompromised, they can use their own blood. But I do not recommend doing this, because after entering the ghost zone, all the ectoplasm inside the dimension will get into your open wound and blood, causing you to become even more infected. In addition, you can catch earthly diseases and get blood poisoning.
The teenager immediately frowned and looked at the camera very seriously:
— I repeat once again. This ritual is suitable when you have no other alternative but death. Do not dabble in science you do not understand, as it can lead to irreversible consequences. Value your life and do not waste it. -
Drake began to wonder whether the ritual was worth trying. He could try it, but what were the chances that it would work? In the worst case, he would just end up looking like an idiot who cut his hand. Perhaps it was worth watching the video to the end.
— So. Now, let's begin the ritual. First, you need to draw the symbols on the ground or another surface in the correct order. Sam will insert photos of what it might look like during editing — two photos appeared in the version on the wall or on the floor.
And when everything is ready, prepare a writing instrument and hold it in your hand. Now, drip ectoplasm onto the instrument.
Danny poured a small amount of green liquid onto the chalk, and it absorbed the substance:
— And now...
The cameraman's laughter can be heard in the background: "Let's start dancing! Ha-ha-ha! I can't believe this is necessary."
Danny frowns again and looks reproachfully just above the camera:
— Tucker, I spent a whole month revising the ritual to make it as simple as possible. If I could have found a way to eliminate these shamanic dances with tambourines, I would have done so!
Sam added from off-camera:
— We believe you, Danny. But it still looks ridiculous. In fact, the most difficult part of the ritual is not so much learning the signs and how to write them correctly, but the silly medieval dance.
The black-haired teenager sighed heavily. The camera quality flickered for a second, but Tim was sure that for a split second, the boy's eyes lit up green.
Then the teenager with green chalk in his hands continued his story:
— So. Yes. Dance. And before you say that this is nonsense, I will explain the meaning. A ritual is a specific action that a person performs. To some extent, eating breakfast is also a ritual, as is brushing your teeth and putting your toothbrush in its rightful place. The dances that ancient peoples once performed to summon rain are also a ritual to invoke the Ancient weather. At its core, dance is a key. It has accumulated the memory of previous generations and carries power within it. This can be explained in more scientific terms, and I am even prepared to write out the formula for you. But I very much doubt that you will understand anything. Now. . Tucker, give me the spectral GoPro, please. -
After a short technical delay, the recording started from Danny's perspective. The boy tapped the camera a couple of times and then pointed to a circle on the ground made up of symbols:
— So. The dance with all the movements from the side and in pictures will be in the pinned comment under the video. In the meantime, watch it from the first person perspective. Later, we'll replay the footage and explain what happened.
And the boy began to dance. The feeling was very strange. It was as if a teenager on the verge of a breakdown over upcoming exams was praying to some unknown gods. take pity on him and give him the easiest ticket. From the outside, it probably looked strange and creepy. Tim was beginning to think that it was all just a stupid prank. However, the strange filter applied to the video bothered him. It was as if the image from this camera had a slight greenish tint. It was the face that looked different. Until then, everything was fine...
"Danny mentioned some kind of spectral camera. If I understood him correctly, this camera can be filled with ectoplasm. I think he wrote about it in that comment..."
Finally, when the boy had almost finished dancing, the symbols on the ground filled with ectoplasmic green color, and then the chalk he was holding began to glow. Then, contrary to all the laws of physics that Tim knew at the moment, the teenager began to write directly in the air in the middle of the circle. When he finished, a light suddenly appeared, the symbols formed into some kind of hieroglyphs, and a portal opened. A portal, damn it. The teenager rushed inside, and immediately a wide, empty green space opened up with some rare floating islands and purple doors.
"What the hell is this?" thought Tim, watching the child run across the wasteland and draw some new symbols. Line after line, instead of stopping, the child runs right through the lines. Later, all the lines he ran through appear before him as a complete drawing, and another portal opens.
Entering it, the boy appeared not far from where his friends were, and the faded white circle drawn on the asphalt with chalk remained.
Tim paused the video. He had to watch it again. This. This couldn't be true. Either these teenagers were editing geniuses and it was all one big prank, or it was all damn real.
Drake was determined to watch it to the end. He had to make sure he wasn't going crazy. He had to try it. After all... If the portal really opened, he wouldn't have to go through it, right? Just the fact that the portal would be open would prove that the video was real. And that some teenagers had found a way to travel through space and time.
But before moving on to practice, you need to learn the theory, right? That's exactly what Red Robin did. After all, his leg is broken, and he can't start dancing strange dances right now.
So, after a few video lessons from Danny and hours of studying symbols, Timothy learned all the symbols, their meanings, and how to draw them. If it doesn't work, well, then he's just an idiot who believed in this strange magic.
"Correction, Danny called it science" — for some reason, the boy had become his irreplaceable invisible friend during all this time. Maybe the reason was that these teenagers didn't cut out any silly moments, which made what was happening in videos seemed so real, as if you were there yourself. Or maybe it was Danny's slightly awkward manner of communication.
"Or maybe sitting around doing nothing has finally driven me crazy..."
However, it was not possible to test the ghostly magic in the near future. Tim was finally allowed to work during his sick leave and had to spend all his remaining time at work. Only when he got back on his feet did a small opportunity to practice arise. But, alas, apart from the opportunity to study ancient dances, nothing else presented itself. Frankly speaking, it was awkward, and Tim really hoped that no one would ever see his attempts to perform silly rituals. But his inner excitement and temptation were literally tearing him apart from the inside. It was the youthful curiosity inherent in any child or teenager. It could be compared to how ordinary children summoned spirits at summer camp or at a sleepover when they played with a Ouija board in a group. To some extent, Timothy realized that what he was doing was completely foolish, but the temptation to touch the unknown was stronger.
And so, one day, when he was alone, the boy took a piece of chalk and a knife rubbed with alcohol, drew a circle of symbols on the floor, and began to dance. At the right moment, albeit with gritted teeth, he cut his palm and dripped blood onto the chalk. However, drawing symbols in the air, alas, did not work. Absolutely nothing. And complete disappointment.
Drake checked everything several more times. And again. But nothing worked. At one point, it seemed to him that he was really close, for a second, self-deception showed a faint green light, he saw it out of the corner of his eye! But no. It was self-deception and it was all in vain. Just nonsense.
"Well, I guess I'm an idiot and fell for a realistic montage."
Disappointment. And yet, something inside me wouldn't let me rest. It was as if something was wrong, as if something was missing...
"Not liminal enough? Not enough aura of death around me?"
My eyes stared at my cut palm. A heavy sigh, regret. I had to fix this misunderstanding.
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About a month later, a magical threat attacked Gotham. The entire Batfamily went to fight Clarion and his lousy cat. More than anything else in the world, the detective family hated magic. It was almost unpredictable and had terrible consequences. Unfortunately, the situation escalated. Magical reinforcements had just received word of the need for help and were on their way, but by the time the Big Bat and Zatanna arrived with Constantine, a portal suddenly opened and the four avengers, bound by a magical red ring, were sucked inside.
The villain's nasty laughter rang out.
— They will never return from there! It is a chamber-like pocket dimension without end or edge, which compresses and destroys itself. Over time, it will turn into absolute nothingness! -
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When the boys landed on the sandy surface, the bonds that held them disappeared.
Nightwing cautiously stood up, rubbing his bruised spot, and began to survey the area. Red Hood followed his example, uttering a few expletives along the way. Little Robin looked as if he was close to killing everything alive. And Red Robin... his mind was in turmoil. They had been tricked like little children, and now they were stuck here. In a dimension that was slowly shrinking. Red threw a small stone into the foggy side, and a small cobblestone flew out from the other side. So that's it. The chamber dimension is infinite because one side connects to the other. When this space eats their island, they will be stuck in an endless cycle of repetition and will probably just be torn apart. Drake voiced his assumption.
Junior Robin frowned: "Tt... Great. And how much time do we have, approximately?"
Tim looked around, approached the border, and calculated the speed and distance being consumed: "Well... About an hour."
Jason sat down on the ground and took off his helmet, pulling at his hair: "Brilliant. Damn it..."
The senior tried to contact someone, but it was useless. Nothing worked, absolutely nothing. Dick sighed heavily: "It looks like all we can do is wait for help. And hope they get us out of here in time."
Robin growled menacingly: "If they get us out of here in time. What if they don't? Are we supposed to sit here and wait humbly for our demise?!"
Hood brazenly dug his hand into the little demon's hair: "What do you suggest, demonic spawn? None of us here possess magic. Sit still and don't move."
No magic... Magic. Portals. Ectoplasm. Tim jerked his head up. The guy picked up a twig lying on the sandy surface and began to write. Memories suddenly flooded back. Damn. A person is willing to grasp at straws when they're on the brink, aren't they? Last time it didn't work. Tim had already called it foolish. But now... What if they don't get them out in time? What if they get stuck here? Even if it doesn't work, it's worth a try.
Finishing writing, Tim took the batarang from his belt and sharply slashed his arm, removing his glove beforehand. Red liquid began to flow actively down his arm, falling onto the circle itself. The twig with which Red had drawn the circle began to actively absorb the red liquid. And Drake... began to dance.
While Nightwing and Hood argued with each other, Robin looked at Timothy. His eyes widened behind his mask, and even Damian, who could hold back any emotion, sat on the ground in shock: "Ahem... Richard? Todd?..." - The younger brother caught the attention of his two brothers and pointed his finger toward Red:
— Drake has gone mad.
The elders stared at Tim in silent shock. Jason got up from the ground and came closer: "Replacement? What are you thinking? . ." - His gaze fell to the ground, where some kind of circle with incomprehensible symbols had been drawn.
Dick also cautiously approached: "Buddy? . . Are you okay?"
But Tim just kept dancing silently. Suddenly, the circle he was dancing in began to glow faintly with a green light. Now that Tim was finished, he stood in the middle of the circle and began to write a sign. My heart stopped for a second. The first stroke. And the bloody trail froze in the air, replaced by a green glow. Tim immediately continued writing, shouting:
— Get ready! Stand back!
Despite complete distrust and disbelief in what was happening, no one argued. The guys lined up behind Tim in anticipation. When suddenly, a swirling green portal opened up ahead. It looked a lot like a pit. So much so that Jason grimaced and his eyes flashed green for a second: "Replacement, what the hell..." -
Timothy immediately grabbed Hood by the arm and dragged him along:
— Hold on!
The whole group immediately rushed forward before the rift between the worlds closed. Once they crossed to the other side, everyone wanted to stop and look around, but Red kept running forward and forward. The others decided to put their questions aside for later and hurried after him. Timothy felt several emotions at once. Joy, happiness, excitement, and completion. Damn it, he did it. This damn magic-science worked. But it was too early to rejoice. They needed to draw a symbol to return to the last place on Earth from which they had disappeared. Tim raised his hand and began to draw. It seemed as if time had stopped, his heart beating at a frantic pace. Finally, a new portal opened, and the group of four avengers tumbled out of it right onto the floor of the lost warehouse from which they had disappeared last time.
Tim just sat on the floor, slowly starting to laugh hysterically (which made him look like a crazy villain):
— It worked. . it worked. It worked! Damn it, Danny, thank you! -
Nightwing was crouching nearby and quickly crawled away. His face turned green and his head spun from the sudden movement, causing his stomach to twist and all its contents, along with bile, to spill out.
Hood looked as if he had just been washed in a washing machine and put through the spin cycle. Robin sat nearby, looking like a cat who had seen something invisible and was staring into space.
Finally, the silence was broken by Konstantin's voice:
— What the hell. . ?
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About ten minutes after the kids disappeared...
When the four avengers were thrown into the portal, Zatanna and Constantine quickly managed to deal with Clarion. But even a harsh interrogation about how to get the guys out of the chamber dimension proved unsuccessful:
— I told you, there's no way! That's it! Poof. There's no way to get back out. Even if you forced me to bring them back, I couldn't do it.
Batman turned to Constantine with a deep, rough growl: "Can we do anything about this?" -
The man with the British appearance took out a cigarette and lit it. To be honest, his hands were shaking a little from nerves:
— No. Not sure. Damn it... I need to see who I can contact. -
Zatanna also looked worried. She had tried to contact Doctor Fate, who was supposed to deal with the Lord of Chaos and get rid of him.
Perhaps he could fix this, but the chances of getting the boys back were very slim.
Suddenly, not far from where the boys had disappeared, a swirling green portal opened. The heroes immediately tensed up and got ready, but only Constantine seemed to freeze, and his cigarette fell out of his mouth. Four figures immediately fell out of the portal, looking a little dazed and disheveled. The Brit took a step back:
— What the hell? -
Batman immediately relaxed when he saw that the boys were safe and relatively unharmed. But a moment later, he returned to his serious expression and barked at the British magician: "Constantine? Report."
He turned to Batman, tried to say something, and then abruptly approached Red Robin, who was sitting on the floor with a happy smile:
— Kid, what the hell are you doing!? Are bats crazy? How did you do it, damn you, how did you open the gates to the Infinite Realms!? -
Red Robin tried to get up, brush off the dirt, and answer, but Hood immediately grabbed him by the collar and started shaking him: "Substitute, what the hell was that!? One second he's dancing some kind of shamanic dance, and the next he opens the fucking Lazarus Pit and drags everyone with him! I thought I was going to die a second time or kill someone!"
Tim just pulls away and carefully steps back from Hood, trying to pull himself together. He himself is in shock, though mixed with joy and the euphoria of a job well done: "Let's just say a friend taught me..." - After these words, Red Robin gave a sly smile and abruptly stepped aside:
— Now, please excuse me, I have some business to take care of. I'll report back later, bye! -
With these words, Red shot out the window with his hook and quickly disappeared from the building. Several threats and shouts from his family flew after him, which he immediately ignored.
Batman rubbed his nose wearily, like a tired father: "Hood, help Nightwing get to the cave. Robin, you stay with me. Report on the situation. Constantine..." -
The magician immediately interrupted the dark knight:
— No. No explanations. Screw this, I'm outta here. I need a drink. - With
that, the wizard vanished into his own cloak.
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In the evening, sitting with a cup of coffee, Timothy wrote the first comment under an unpopular video:
"Thanks for your help, Danny."
And, to his surprise, he immediately received a reply, and the page refreshed itself:
"You're welcome, Red >:) "
— Stop. Where the hell did that come from?
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