Jamie Reyes lays unconscious on an operating table. He's strapped in tight and is hooked into several ultramodern machines, outfitted with the standard glowing screens and blinking lights. Looming over Reyes is the dour-faced Professor Thomas Oscar Morrow.
For the first time in a long time it is quiet.
I am, finally, alone with my thoughts.
I know it will not last.
It never does.
Tight on Morrow's face, but faded in the background are two images; memories. On one side we have the Justice League smashing through the wall of one of his lairs. On the other, we have Lex Luthor (outfitted in his battlesuit), Doctor Sivana and Black Adam replicating the League, crashing through a wall.
All I want is peace and quiet.
Time alone in my lab.
But they've never let me, and I realise now:
They never will.
Morrow strokes Jamie's cheek.
I don't expect you to understand.
I don't expect forgiveness.
I just want you to know...
Morrow's lips are inches from Jamie's ear as he whispers...
... I'm doing this for science.
Morrow's back is turned. He's reaching for something. Jamie remains unconscious, helpless. Seemingly doomed.
I need protection from the forces who'd dare interfere with my research.
Marrow's facing us again. Only now, he's wielding a scalpel and a miniature chainsaw.
T.O. MORROW (1)
And once I harness the power of your Scarab,
you shall be my protection.
T.O. MORROW (2)
The Man of T.O. Morrow.