Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 68: An Honest Answer
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 08:00:03 +0000 UTCA week passed in the blink of an eye, and with it came the long-awaited visit. Ashborn stood at the edge of the sprawling construction site just outside Metropolis.
Pamela Isley and Harley Quinn stepped out of the transport vehicle Ashborn had sent for them, both women blinking at the surreal sight in front of them. Pamela's eyes widened, genuinely stunned.
"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered, taking a few steps forward. "You already bought the land? Fixed the soil? Construction is already in progress?"
Ashborn nodded, calm as ever. "Correct."
Pamela turned to him, still reeling. "How did you do this? It’s too fast, this should’ve taken weeks just to begin."
Ashborn gave a slight smirk. “A mix of magic... and Super Digging Girl.”
Pamela blinked, confused. “Super... Digging Girl?”
Harley, who had just finished checking out a half-constructed dome, perked up. “That sounds interesting. Who the hell is Super Digging Girl?”
Ashborn raised a finger and said proudly, “A blonde, lazy alien clone living in my house... with a shovel in her hand.”
It took a moment, but Pamela suddenly remembered. “Oh... the Kryptonian clone?”
Harley burst into laughter. “The original was forced into construction work, right? And the clone becomes a digger! You really do know how to put ‘em to work.”
Ashborn gave a nonchalant shrug while Pamela finally let a smile slip. Her eyes scanned the progress again, this time with a glint of genuine optimism.
“At this pace… how long do you think until it’s done?” she asked softly.
“Six months at most,” Ashborn replied confidently.
Pamela’s lips parted slightly, eyes gleaming. “Six months…” she whispered, her excitement breaking through her usual composure.
Ashborn, however, tilted his head, watching her carefully. “So… are you going to continue being a Gotham villain after this?”
Pamela froze.
Harley’s voice cut in without hesitation, “Of course she is! She’s my partner.”
Ashborn looked at them both, then said matter-of-factly, “In that case, her name will be left out of the project. She can manage and oversee it, but not officially. And Harley, this project will take considerable time from Pamela. She might not be as available as she is now.”
The words sank like stones in the silence that followed. Harley slowly turned to look at Pamela, frowning. “So… what happens to the two of us? You’re gonna stay in Metropolis while I stay in Gotham?”
Ashborn didn’t flinch. “As I said, she can work unofficially, that can be done from Gotham. That part isn’t a problem. But the reality is, she’ll have less time to participate in whatever you’re up to, Harley. I’d suggest, for the next few months, you find some other individuals to join your chaos brigade, give Pamela time to work on what she loves.”
Harley raised a brow at him. “Are you a relationship counselor now?”
Ashborn shrugged. “I was the one who suggested you contact Pamela in the first place. I consider your relationship... a personal project I need to groom.”
Harley blinked, then laughed.
“You’re insane.”
Ashborn gave a small smile. “You’re welcome.”
___________
The door clicked shut behind him as Ashborn stepped into his home. The afternoon light slanted through the wide windows. He walked inside and there, right where he expected her, Tea sprawled across the couch, one leg dangling off the side, eyes fixed on the TV with the remote resting loosely in her hand.
She didn’t glance his way as he entered, just let out a faint, “You’re early.”
Ashborn settled into a nearby chair. “Pamela liked the progress,” he said plainly. “She wanted me to thank you for the help. On the other hand, Harley thinks you’ve got a bright future as Super Digging Girl.”
Tea groaned, tossing the remote at him, he caught it effortlessly.
She commented “You’re really going all in with the green lady project, huh?”
Her eyes lingered on him, not in annoyance, but in something quieter. Thoughtful. “Sometimes I really wonder what’s up with you. What do you want, Ashborn? Do you have a dream or something you’re chasing?”
Ashborn didn’t reply at first. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Why the sudden interest?”
Tea sat up a little straighter, arms wrapped around her knees now. “I’ve been here for months,” she said softly. “And I like it. I really do. The peace, the calm… even the weirdness of this place. But I don’t feel like I have a purpose. I’m not that different from Amazo, if you think about it. Just a living weapon with nothing to aim at. So I wonder... what about you? What do you really want? Where are you going with all of this?”
Ashborn was quiet again. Then, almost with a note of surprise, he said, “You know, you’re the first person to ask me that.”
He stood, walking slowly toward the window, hands tucked behind his back. “The truth is… I’m not that different from you, Ace, or Amazo. For most of my life in this world, I had no purpose. I just… existed. I enjoyed myself, searched for entertainment, indulged anything I could find, watched the world burn and rebuild. It was all background noise as long the process of my entertainment continued”
He turned his head slightly, the light catching his eyes. “But over time, Uncle Rex grew on me. His care for me, his odd sense of honor and responsibility, the way he carried himself. I began to appreciate him. Then Ace came along, broken, cold and a future stolen from her. She reminded me of myself. I understood her misery, her suffering... and I pitied her. That’s why I took her in. Amazo had no purpose either, just like I didn’t. So I took him in as well.”
Ashborn turned back to face her, his voice low and firm. “You could say that now, I only want to watch them grow, to build a better life for themselves. I want to see them break from the cycles that trapped them. And they are moving forward. Every day. For that I am proud of them.”
Tea looked at him in silence, then asked, “What about me?”
There was a rare look in her eyes, earnest, open, vulnerable.
Ashborn tilted his head slightly and smiled. “Because you walked away. Because the moment you realized you weren’t truly chained, you took the reins of your life. And that… that’s something I respect.”
Tea held his gaze, her usual cocky smirk absent.
Ashborn sat back down, his voice quieter now. “Tea… I’ve lived long, longer than you realize. I’ve fought, killed, bled, and watched destruction and death on a scale you can’t begin to imagine. I watched one of the cruelest cycles spin to its bitter end. I’ve seen those who were created to bring justice twist themselves with hatred. I’ve seen what beings become when they pursue purpose above all else, how depraved, how blind. I know what it truly means to be chained without a choice in life and I witnessed the end when all that remain is desolation and silence”
He exhaled, his voice for the first time had a hint of sorrow.
“And after all of it, after everything I’ve seen and endured, I came recently to one conclusion about our existence.”
He looked her directly in the eye.
“Our existence only has value in the bonds we make. In the moment we live in. That’s the only thing worth anything. Not power, not justice, not purpose. Just the connections and the moment. That’s what matters. That’s what shapes us. We live to watch and affect others, to be affected by them. And when we die… the only proof we were ever here is in how they remember us, in how they tell our story.”
Tea stared at him for a long time. And for once, she didn’t have a snarky comment.
Only silence. And maybe, just maybe, a flicker of understanding.
