Time passed, as it always does, even for those who don't understand it yet.
Jason was about four months old now—or rather, his new body was. The soul inside still carried weight, echoes of a past he couldn't remember but always felt. That subtle gnawing sensation in the back of his mind—the aching nothingness that never quite left him—was still there, even if dulled by his infant shell.
Currently, Jason was in Nolan's arms, gumming softly on a blue pacifier, the plastic just firm enough to keep his fussy instincts down. He wasn't crying—not really—but his face contorted every so often into an unconscious pout. A flicker of emotion would jolt from the Ring on his chest.
His Ennui Ring.
That's what Nolan had started calling it. The Gray Ring. The Emotion Sink. The source of weirdness he couldn't explain.
When Mark dressed up as Tape Man again and ran through the living room shouting made-up catchphrases, Nolan had snapped to his feet and nearly vaporized the couch with heat vision. Debbie had to talk him down, horrified at his overreaction.
It wasn't until Nolan picked Jason up—feeling his body settle, hearing the little gurgling sounds and gentle huffs of an overstimulated infant—that he realized how different it felt.
Jason made him feel... human.
Not Viltumite.
Not a warrior or planetary scout.
Just a dad.
He didn't like it. He didn't hate it either. He didn't know what to feel, and that confused him even more.
Which is why, days later, Nolan found himself striding through the halls of the Justice League Watchtower, expression unreadable.
He passed by Wonder Woman in training, nodded once to Flash (who barely stopped running to return the gesture), and moved toward the Lantern sector. Many in the League respected Nolan—Omni-Man, Earth's flying titan, savior of several continents and unofficial member of Earth's strongest—but they didn't know him. Not really.
None of them knew what he truly was.
Not the Martian.
Not even the Lanterns.
And certainly not Batman.
Though, if anyone would find out… it'd be him.
Nolan quickened his pace.
He found John Stewart, the only Green Lantern on the station today. Hal Jordan was off on border patrol. Guy Gardner was probably pissing someone off on Oa.
John stood at one of the mission brief tables, in conversation with Martian Manhunter.
"Nolan," John greeted coolly. "Didn't expect you today."
"I have a situation," Nolan said, his voice clipped. "Something... strange."
John raised a brow. "Stranger than aliens?"
"Yes. I need your help. It's about a child I found. A baby." He paused. "He has a Lantern Ring."
John's posture stiffened. "What color?"
Nolan hesitated, then said, "Gray. It glows only for him. But it radiates emotion… or maybe anti-emotion. It's hard to explain. It makes me—feel different. More human. More volatile."
John and J'onn exchanged a look.
"Gray…" John muttered. "Never heard of that before."
"I have," J'onn said quietly. "In whispers. A myth among the Guardians… 'The Jellyfish That Mourned.' No records. Just ancient scribbles. They said it was a concept that was abandoned."
John looked back at Nolan. "Where is the kid now?"
"At home. With my wife. I… thought you might come help observe. Even advise. If the Ring is Lantern-affiliated, that makes it your jurisdiction."
John looked down, thoughtful. "I'll come. Might be worth checking the resonance on it."
He turned to J'onn. "You want in? Babysitting's technically a human activity."
J'onn blinked, then smiled faintly. "I've studied law, psychology, culture… but never childcare. I suppose it's time."
The Grayson household that evening was surprisingly calm.
John Stewart, in casual clothes (his ring concealed), sat at the kitchen table helping Mark work through algebra.
"It's not just about the X and Y," John explained. "You gotta think of it like a story. X wants to meet Y, but they need a bridge—the equation is the bridge."
Mark blinked. "...That's way cooler than how my teacher explains it."
J'onn, now wearing the appearance of a tall, caramel-skinned man with kind eyes and a trimmed beard, sat on the couch observing Jason, who lay on a playmat surrounded by plushies. The Ennui Ring pulsed softly, unnoticed by most. A low hum resonated every time Jason moved.
Debbie leaned against the wall beside Nolan in the kitchen.
"You actually brought company home," she teased. "Should I be jealous?"
Nolan chuckled, but there was a weight behind his smile. "I needed backup. I don't know what this kid is. He's… special."
Debbie looked at Jason, who had somehow stacked three plushies atop one another and was gurgling happily. "He's a baby."
"He's more."
Meanwhile, J'onn sat forward. Something tugged at him. The Ring… the child… something was off. Not dangerous—just off-key. Like a wrong note in a beautiful song.
He let his eyes close. Let his mind expand.
He had done this before. Scanned Guy Gardner's mind to calm him during rage spikes. Dipped into Hal's surface thoughts to help train focus.
Surely, a baby would be harmless.
He reached out—
And hit a wall.
No.
Not a wall. A presence.
It slammed into his psyche like a wave of molten steel.
J'onn gasped inwardly, locking eyes with something beyond space.
He saw—
A jellyfish.
Colossal. Floating in the void.
Gray, translucent tendrils stretching across lightyears. Its eye—if it had one—was a pulsing whirlpool of grief and rage.
And then—
"KEEP AWAY FROM MY HOST."
The voice boomed across J'onn's consciousness, shredding through his psychic form. It wasn't speaking to him—it was commanding him.
A child drifted in the distance, floating in what looked like a memory or a cocoon of forgotten time. Jason. Older. Crying. Screaming into darkness.
Then—
Nothing.
J'onn shot awake with a jolt, his humanoid disguise flickering before stabilizing. The sun was setting. He was on the couch.
John was beside him, eyebrows raised. "What the hell happened to you?"
J'onn's eyes twitched, scanning the room. Jason was being fed by Nolan in the next room, calm and milk-drunk. Debbie hummed a tune in the kitchen. Mark was playing with toy figures.
"I… I don't know," J'onn muttered. "I remember something. Just one thing."
"What?"
J'onn swallowed. "A gray jellyfish."
John stared at him. "...You're kidding."
"I'm not."
John exhaled. "And you said I needed to help this kid?"
J'onn nodded slowly. "He needs something. Something deeper than we understand."
John looked down at his Ring. "I can't. Lantern protocol. If the Ring isn't from Oa, I have no authority. But…"
He glanced at Nolan, then back at J'onn.
"I can find someone. Someone who doesn't follow rules."
J'onn gave a dry chuckle. "I'll leave babysitting to others, then."
Behind the wall, Nolan sat with Jason on his lap.
The child was dozing, bottle half-drunk in his tiny fist. The Ring had faded to a soft pulse now, no longer flaring or twitching with emotion. Nolan looked at him… and felt something new.
Not warmth.
Not even pride.
Curiosity.
What secrets are you holding, son?