Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 23: Broken Ice
🕑 Added 2025-05-16 18:42:43 +0000 UTCAshborn stepped out of the helicopter and marched straight through the Shadow Corp headquarters with his usual calmness. He entered his office and was met with an unexpected sight — Supergirl, floating just outside the tall glass window, arms crossed, wind teasing the ends of her golden hair.
Ashborn didn’t slow his steps. He walked up to the window and opened it with a faint sigh. “Not working here anymore doesn’t mean you can’t use the door, you know.”
Supergirl drifted inside with a soft laugh. “Yeah, but the window has its magic.” Her smile faded slightly as she landed. “Are you okay? That was the first time I saw you without your annoying smile.”
Ashborn shrugged and walked back to his desk, his voice casual. “It was the easiest and safest way to diffuse the situation. Victor’s only motivation is his wife. He wouldn’t risk her.”
Supergirl floated behind him, still unconvinced. “Still… hearing you threaten him like that… it was unnerving. You sounded like a villain.”
Ashborn chuckled darkly, opening a drawer behind his desk. “Then the play was perfect.” He pulled out two red vials, their liquid glowing faintly.
Her curiosity piqued, Supergirl tilted her head. She caught sight of three total vials, one still in the drawer, and beside them, a strange-looking pistol. “What’s that?”
Ashborn didn’t look at her as he carefully set two of the vials aside. “The cure. For Victor and Nora.”
Her eyes widened. “You weren’t lying about that?”
“Why would I lie?” he said, placing one vial in a protective case. “I was serious when I said I wanted him to work for me… for life. He has a brilliant mind. I see a greater purpose for his talents. Using cryogenics only to freeze people is a waste.”
“So… what’s in the vials really?” Supergirl asked, following him as he exited the office.
Ashborn walked steadily down the hall, Supergirl hovering beside him. “A magical potion. It's called the Holy Water of Life. It can heal nearly any illness. Powerful magic. Difficult to make. Rarer to acquire.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “And how exactly did you get your hands on something like that?”
Ashborn gave her a look that mixed amusement with confidence. “Do I need to remind you who I am? But if you’re hoping for details… well, they’re secret. And even if you knew, you wouldn’t be able to get it.”
Supergirl’s mind briefly flickered to his earlier words — about his wealth and high connections. She frowned slightly. However he got it… it must have cost a fortune.
But what she would never guess, not even in her most imaginative theories, was the truth: Ashborn had created the potion himself — the recipe, the magic, the work — all his own doing. He simply kept it in his office, for convenience and not to attract attention if he ever needed them, he didn’t need to even hide them as no one would think something like this is put simply in a drawer .
As they neared the roof access door, Supergirl tapped his arm lightly. “And the pistol? In your drawer. It didn’t look normal.”
Ashborn’s hand paused on the doorknob. “It’s from the same source as the potion. You don’t need to worry about it.”
Supergirl narrowed her eyes. “A magic pistol? What does it do?”
Instead of answering, Ashborn opened the door and smirked. “I see you changed your costume. The new one suits you more.”
Supergirl blinked in surprise, then smiled wide. “Thanks— hey! Don’t change the subject!”
Ashborn’s chuckle echoed as they stepped onto the rooftop. “You’re awfully curious about my business. How would you feel if I started digging around to find where you live among the humans?”
“That’s not the same and you know it.”
“That’s just your opinion.”
Their playful bickering continued until they reached the helicopter, its blades already beginning to spin. Ashborn climbed aboard, adjusting his coat as the wind picked up.
“You heading to the police station?” Supergirl asked.
Ashborn nodded. “Of course. I want Victor to work for me. Besides, I wonder what his reaction is going to be when he sees me again.”
Without asking, Supergirl jumped into the seat beside him. “Then I’m coming too. I want to see how this plays out.”
Ashborn didn’t mind. Not one bit.
___________
The police station wasn’t far — just a few minutes by helicopter. When Ashborn and Supergirl entered through the main doors, all conversation seemed to halt. Officers and staff turned to look. Most eyes immediately locked on Supergirl, admiration and awe flickering in their gazes. But the few who had been at the lab — who’d witnessed Ashborn’s cold-blooded threat — looked at him with something else entirely: intrigue… and a sliver of unease.
Unbothered by the attention, Ashborn strode confidently toward the reception desk and said plainly, “I want to speak with Victor Fries. Alone.”
The officer at the desk frowned. “That’s not standard protocol. We can’t just—”
“I’ll be with him,” Supergirl interjected calmly, stepping beside Ashborn. “I vouch for him. There won’t be any trouble.”
The change was immediate. The officer blinked, gave a nervous nod, and motioned to one of the detectives. It amused Ashborn — how fast the mighty agreed when one of their capes gave a word. He was treated like a fragile, delicate thing just because he didn’t wear a cape.
They were escorted into a small interrogation room, gray and cold, with a large one-way mirror lining the right wall. Ashborn took a seat, fingers interlaced, while Supergirl leaned casually against the wall.
Moments later, the door creaked open and a pair of officers stepped in with Mr. Freeze shackled between them. The man in heavy armor stopped in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on Ashborn.
His blue-tinted gaze sharpened. “You.”
Ashborn smiled warmly, like greeting an old friend. “Glad to see you found reason, Victor. Things could’ve gone much darker.”
Victor’s boots thudded as he stepped forward. “Are you here to mock me… or threaten me again?”
“Things like that lose their charm quickly,” Ashborn replied smoothly. “I’m here to repeat my offer. You work for me… and I save your wife.”
Victor’s jaw tightened. “You really think I’d believe someone like you? I’ll never work for you.”
Ashborn didn’t argue. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small red vial, placing it on the table. The liquid inside shimmered softly, pulsing like it was alive.
“This isn’t science,” he said. “This is magic. A potion that can cure any illness.”
Victor’s eyes locked onto the vial, its faint red glow reflecting in his visor. Ashborn leaned in slightly, voice calm. “Drink it. And you’ll go back to being normal. No more suit. No more dome. Just a normal human.”
Victor’s stare flicked between Ashborn and the vial. “I’m not letting you play me.” His voice cracked with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Your lies are going to far.”
Ashborn’s smile vanished.
“WayneTech storage unit number thirteen.”
Victor froze. His pupils shrank behind the glass as those words struck deep.
“Drink it. Now.”
“You bastard!” Victor suddenly roared and lunged across the table, but Supergirl was already there, catching him mid-motion and holding him back.
“Leave her alone!” he screamed. “Don’t you touch her!”
Ashborn remained seated, untouched, his gaze sharp as a blade. “Then drink it. Every single drop of it.”
The tension was thick. Supergirl’s grip didn’t falter, but her face showed her conflict. She hated this…this kind of emotional blackmail, but… she understood why he was doing it. Victor was too stubborn. Too buried in fear and pride. This was the only way to reach him.
Victor’s shoulders sagged as rage gave way to despair. His fists slowly unclenched. He looked down at the vial on the table, his breath shallow.
Then, without a word, he reached up, unscrewed the dome protecting his head, and lifted the vial to his lips.
The room held its breath.
He drank it all.
A soft green glow enveloped his body as thin wisps of white mist coiled from his skin and suit. The glow faded gradually, but something within him had clearly changed.
Ashborn gestured toward the one-way mirror. “Look.”
Victor turned his head and gasped.
In the reflection, his skin was normal. The pale, frostbitten color was gone. He looked… human again. Alive. He took a deep breath — and for the first time in years — it felt natural. No burning. No strain.
He exhaled slowly, a trembling hand reaching to touch his face.
Ashborn allowed a small, satisfied smile. “Congratulations, Victor. You’re back to normal.”
