I used the Rocket suit’s sensors to see if I couldn’t make the sound clearer. When I did, I learned something.

It still didn’t make sense.

Querying my implant, I checked if it might be another language. My implant identified bits of Sumerian, a variant of pidgin Abominator used by their human servants, English, and several ancient human languages that must have been common when the Abominators were on Earth.

Translated into modern English, the mass of words was still gibberish.

I’d been told that Abominator technology came with a risk of madness because it was based on Artificer technology designed to destroy the civilizations into which it was introduced. This might be my first in-person example.

I’d also been told that the Abominators had been unusually good at minimizing the risk, so the risks from Abominator technology were generally more subtle.

This didn’t seem subtle at all.

Not having a better idea, I shouted at him through the suit’s PA, “Could you repeat that in English?”

He stopped, eyes widening, and stared at me.

“Whoa,” Marcus said, “that got a reaction.”

Then Victor shouted, “You! You’re the second Rocket and the second Heroes’ League.”

His voice started hoarse but became clearer as he went.

We all looked at each other. Jaclyn said, “That’s right. And who are you?”

He frowned, “Haven’t we met yet? It’s 2012. We should have met.”

Clenching his fists, he shouted, “We should have met by now! I serve the Nine. You fought me two years ago your time. Don’t you remember me? It was on the shore of Lake Michigan.”

Looking from one of us to the other, he stood there, trembling and mumbling, “I thought I went to the right timeline. They matched. I know they did. They have to know me. I can’t have wasted all of this time.”

Without taking a breath, he went back to shouting, “You know me!”

Implant to implant, Marcus said, “This guy is crazy, but do you think he can time travel? Because that’s kind of scary.”

As Marcus finished, Rachel started talking, “Of course we know you. You appeared after Higher Ground exploded.”

Over the comm, she muttered, “What’s his name?”

She’d been on Earth, but not close enough to help with that one except by offering advice.

“Purple Legionnaire,” Marcus said.

She gave him a look, “That’s a stupid name.”

Marcus threw up his hands, “It was the press.”

“I don’t know you,” Victor said, peering at her. Rachel was around three-quarters visible.

Staring in her direction, he added, “I didn’t fight you. You weren’t there. You can’t be here. You should be dead by now! Dead! Stay away from me!”

With his final shout, he became fully visible and the purple glow of his skin became brighter, pulsing as a blast of purple energy fired at Rachel.

Knowing that Victor teleported people away with that move, I began to shout at Rachel that she should duck, but didn’t get further than, “Du—” when the purple blast faded out. It had only made it as far as the edge of the Starplate, supporting the theory that he’d been trapped.

Not even flinching, Rachel said, “That’s not me. I’m not Ghostwoman. She’s been dead for years.”

Breathing deeply, Victor took two more shots before slumping over. To be fair to him, Grandma’s reputation in the superhero community during her lifetime could have been summarized by the word, “scary.”

If he’d been around since the 1950s and fought the original League, it might explain his fear. They avoided killing people, but they also didn’t play around in lethal situations. When they formed the civilian version of the Heroes’ League in the 1950s, they’d even killed a few mobsters. I didn’t remember the exact circumstances, but I’d heard the story as a kid and felt like I’d have done the same.

“Hey,” Cassie waved her arm (the one that wasn’t holding the gun) to get Victor’s attention, “have you been stuck here since the 1950s? Do you want out?  If you help us, we might be able to let you out.”

Jaclyn caught her eye and muttered, “Not a good idea,” into her comm.

I couldn’t argue. The last I’d heard, Victor worked for the Nine’s inner circle these days, teleporting their people in or out to the frustration of most Defenders units. If he’d sent himself back in time, he was on a mission. It didn’t take too much imagination to guess that it might be the same as ours. He’d just been sent back to locate the device in the 1950s before we’d even be born.

This meant that if we did let Victor out, Magnus would have two Victors at his disposal until he sent the original back in time to become the questionably sane version we’d just met.

Cassie glanced back at Jaclyn, moving her hand behind her back and crossing her fingers the way you might if you were five and didn’t want your lie to count.

Victor took a deep breath, pulled himself to his full height, and said, “What do you want?”