Marvel: Impregnation System

Chapter 135: Chapter 130: Supreme Court

1 week later,

In a typical two-story house nestled in a suburban neighborhood of Washington D.C., a woman's eyes fluttered open.

Her complexion was unremarkable, and her features leaned slightly above average, there was nothing inherently flawed about her, yet nothing particularly striking either.

She had brown hair and brown eyes, both dull and unassuming and slowly, she sat up and glanced to the side, her gaze lingering on the empty space beside her on the bed.

After a moment of hesitation, she turned over and rose, her steps carrying her to the bathroom.

There, she carried out a quick, mechanical morning routine before making her way to the kitchen to prepare a modest breakfast.

On the counter lay a neatly arranged shopping list, prepared with care the day before as she picked it up on her way to the broom closet.

While slipping on her coat, her eyes drifted toward a painting tucked away at the back of the closet.

For a fleeting moment, a flicker of emotion broke through her otherwise stoic demeanor, but she quickly turned away, suppressing whatever feelings had surfaced.

Walking towards the door, she got into her car and checked all of her mirrors before exiting the driveway.

The convenience store was relatively close, and the roads were quiet, with barely any cars in sight.

However, as she approached, the headlights of one particular car suddenly flickered on, cutting through the stillness.

The woman reached the store without any trouble, greeting the familiar store clerk who, with a hint of hesitation, asked about her situation. As always, she offered a practiced smile and reassured them that everything would work out in the end.

She moved on to her task, gathering items and methodically crossing them off her list one by one.

When she reached the counter to pay, the interaction was as uneventful as the rest of her day.

For an uneventful routine, to get through the uneventful day, and all for an uneventful life.

Walking out of the store, she loaded her groceries into the back seat and then paused by the driver's door, letting out a weary sigh.

Sliding into the car, she sat for a moment, her gaze fixed on the horizon, lost in thought, before finally turning the ignition and backing out of the parking lot.

BAM

Then, an event occurred that would forever change the course of this ordinary housewife's life as her car was abruptly rear-ended in the store's parking lot.

GASP

"Oh, heavens!" She exclaimed, her voice trembling while still in a daze, her stomach sank as she stepped out of the car, her mind racing with the fear that she might somehow be at fault.

"A-Are you alright?" she stammered, growing more frantic as she saw the airbag deploy, inflating in the car seat.

"Man, these airbags really have a kick."

As the man pushed the airbag aside, it was revealed that it was Ricky behind the wheel of the other car.

But when one looked closer, one would notice something strange as the steering wheel, where the airbag had deployed, appeared to have been pried off.

"Oh no, I-I am so sorry!" The woman gasped, covering her mouth while not even realizing who Ricky was as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, since we've rammed cars, I guess an introduction is in order. I'm Ricky." Ricky said, stepping out of the car.

His towering figure loomed over her, and his toothy smile, paired with a voice that sent a shiver down her spine, left the woman speechless as a flush spread across her cheeks as she struggled to find her words.

'O-Oh my, get it together.' The woman realized that she had been staring at Ricky for a little too long, shaking her head before holding out her hand.

"My name is Frances Dewey, nice to meet you." France's said, offering a nervous smile as she tried to suppress the blush creeping up her cheeks as her eyes dropped to the ground, a hint of shame in her behavior.

Ricky, however, was all smiles as his grin widened even further, his eyes narrowing into crescent moons as he studied her.

"It's nice to meet you too."

DING

Meanwhile at the White House,

"Mr. President, Frank Nitti has turned up dead-"

"In a house fire, I read the newspaper, but I'm too busy to entertain the paranoia that this is connected to Ricky Luciano." Franklin D. Roosevelt interrupted Joe, jotting something down on a notepad.

"Mr. President-"

"I won't repeat myself. Besides, Ricky Luciano has already embedded himself into America's heart, so I'd rather crush him here than assure a mobster." Franklin said, stopping his writing and looking up, clearly having had enough of Joe.

"Once I do, you should focus your efforts on the task I originally entrusted to you instead of monopolizing my phone line. Good day." Franklin said, abruptly hanging up on Joe as he continued writing for a moment before finally looking up at a particular man in the room.

Dewey sat before him, his gaze disheveled and defeated, as if his entire world had been torn apart.

Everyone around him had been shattered, and the foundation that once held him up had finally given way.

His reputation, career, and public identity had been obliterated with the news of his murder trial surfacing.

On top of that, Hawkins, his supposed co-conspirator, had named him in his suicide note as the mastermind behind the murder, leaving Dewey as the only person to bear the blame.

Now, Dewey found himself in the custody of the United States, continuing the appeal of the trial against Ricky Luciano.

In fact, Dewey had already been fired and stripped of his license and the only reason he was even here was because the defendant was required to be present for the appeal case.

Right now, he wasn't a man of justice, but rather a prisoner in the custody of the United States government.

Dewey had become nothing more than a convict, unable to even see his own wife while he was confined to an apartment whenever he wasn't at court.

Now, he sat before the President of the United States not as District Attorney filled with righteousness, but now a hollowed man reduced to the status of a criminal.

"I assume you understand that your entire career is in ruins, and there's nothing you can do to ever step foot in a government position again, correct?" Franklin finally addressed him, his cold eyes seemingly forcing Dewey to lower his head, his hand gripping his pant leg in a gesture of despair.

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Then all that hate and drive that led you down this path, the hole you're sinking into, make sure to drag Ricky Luciano down with you, for the good of your country. Maybe then a deal can be arranged." Franklin's gaze locked onto Dewey's, his eyes holding the last flicker of hope for him. Dewey closed his eyes, nodding in reluctant agreement.

"Then everyone leave, I have a prior engagement to attend to," Franklin said, his eyes drifting toward his cabinet, who all nodded in understanding.

"Yes, Mr. President." They replied in unison, before making their exit. Franklin crossed his hands, watching as they filed out, leaving him alone in the room.

Knock

Knock

"Come in," Franklin called, gesturing toward the door as a man entered, his face marked with clear displeasure as he stepped into the room.

"Mr. President," the man greeted formally, though there was no warmth in his voice.

"Please, sit," Franklin smiled, gesturing to the chair, but the man raised his hand, declining the offer.

"I'll stand." The man firmly stood in place as if it was a form of protest.

This wasn't just any politician or simple representative, but the former U.S. Representative of the Conservative Republican Party, James M. Beck.

However, unlike the other politicians of his time, James M. Beck didn't look at the President with any respect and instead, he showed clear displeasure and discontent with the man who had summoned him.

The ripple effect caused by Ricky had led James to resign from Congress two years earlier than intended, citing that Congress had become 'merely a rubber stamp for the Executive'.

Beck had been a constant thorn in the side of the Democratic Party for years, always at the forefront of efforts to oppose the advancement of civil cases and liberal policies.

"Congressman-"

"Former Congressman," James corrected, his tone sharp. Franklin let out a small chuckle, nodding in acknowledgment.

"I almost forgot," Franklin chuckled, pulling out James' resignation letter and smiling at him.

RIP

"I called you in here to tell you that I don't acknowledge your resignation. Your country needs you now more than ever," Franklin said, his eyes fierce as he smiled, watching James' visible displeasure.

"Unlike everyone else Mr. President, I won't be lead on nor will I be coaxed-"

"Even if I revise the New Deal?" Franklin pressed, getting straight to the point of what the man before him wanted as James narrowed his eyes, considering the proposition.

"If you crush Ricky Luciano's case against the Supreme Court, I will personally have you on the committee working on the bill," Franklin offered, which immediately made James raise his gaze, clearly intrigued by the proposition.

"I want full-"

"Partial-"

"Deal." James stepped forward, fully aware that even partial authority over this bill could spell success for his party.

Meanwhile at a residence Hotel,

At a rundown motel, Ricky sat outside on the porch, knowing that no other hotel in the city would dare touch him with a twenty-foot pole.

"KILL YOURSELF!"

"YOU DIRTY F*CKING MUTANT!"

The chants spilled from the protesters, their hateful slogans unchanged even as the faces in the crowd shifted.

But there was a clear difference now.

This hate, the same venom that had been directed at Ricky, carried an undercurrent that felt different from the usual animosity unleashed when a civil case was brought to the higher courts.

Ricky could see it in their eyes, the attempt to mask it with even more hateful words, but for anyone who looked closely, it was unmistakable: they were afraid.

Fear pulsed beneath their words, fear of the unknown that had suddenly forced its way into their lives, threatening to upend everything they had ever known.

But the fear ran even deeper.

It wasn't just about race, not entirely as the easy narratives of superiority; of noses, of skin, of features, had long been ingrained in their minds.

But as they looked at Ricky, on his balcony overlooking them with superior features, their assumptions faltered.

His skin, like theirs, was what they considered human and even his features were better than there's.

But it gave way to the real issue, something more innate: the fear of what he represented.

It wasn't just about his difference; his race, his appearance, but about the power he could wield.

The fear of a mutant who could stop a bullet, something no human could do, and now, this mutant wanted the same rights they had.

The fear wasn't only of being compared to someone like Ricky, but of being forced to confront the terrifying possibility of what it would mean to face someone like him in a world where power was no longer solely in regular human hands.

The uncertainty of what would happen if they, too, were thrust into that fight for survival against Ricky.

They had to ask themselves one question: Could they even stand against him?

It was why they were metaphorically barricading themselves against that possibility, trying to drown him in the same hate that had mentally destroyed all those before him.

They hoped to break him, to make him feel less than, to crush his spirit with the weight of their fear and yet, even in the face of it all, Ricky smiled.

"Ah~" Ricky let out a refreshing sigh after taking a sip of his morning coffee, raising his cup as if toasting to them with a small, knowing laugh.

"Do you really have to antagonize them?" Raven asked from inside, her voice soft but laced with amusement as she walked over and slinked her arms around his waist, pressing a gentle kiss to his back.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent as if it grounded her and without realizing it, she had become completely consumed by Ricky's presence, and she would feel a little lost without the familiar, comforting scent of him close by.

"I mean, no, but where's the fun in that?" Ricky laughed, his voice low and playful as he turned around, his hand gently caressing her cheek as she leaned into him, her eyes softening under his touch.

"Ricky, about the case-"

"I know, I know." Ricky murmured, swaying gently with Raven as he danced with her as she rested her head against his chest, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his movements, her body relaxed against his.

Over the course of the week, Raven had barely left Ricky's side.

When Ricky wasn't being prepped by Marshall or Chester, he was with her, and their time together had been consumed by endless conversation.

Whether it was with words or their bodies, they communicated in ways that went beyond the surface.

But even if she was aware, Raven couldn't help but find herself drawn deeper into Ricky's presence, feeling utterly consumed by him.

She couldn't bring herself to say no to anything he asked for, his influence over her growing with each passing day.

Then, one evening, he made a daring proposal, one that would test her limits and pull them both further into uncharted territory.

"Reveal yourself to the world during my case and stand by me."

Ricky's proposal was layered with a complexity as he wanted Raven to act as a witness, her knowledge of mutant discrimination giving her voice a weight that could resonate in court.

It was an opportunity for her to make a real impact, something that she had always dreamed about.

But beneath that reason, there was a much more selfish desire as he honestly didn't need her to testify, he could win this case without her.

It was a tricky plan, one that would require meticulous effort and careful execution. But with Chester by his side, Ricky felt almost certain of his success.

No one would suspect a crow, someone so seemingly unassuming, could wield such power, especially when it came to witness tampering.

However, what he wanted, more than anything, was to force an undeniable association between them.

Ricky wanted Raven in the spotlight, inextricably linked to him, so that if she ever considered running or stepping away, she'd find it impossible to escape him.

He knew Raven's ability to vanish, to hide, but with her name tied to his in the public eye, she wouldn't have the same luxury.

The more Ricky spent time with Raven, the more he realized he didn't want her to slip through his fingers like last time.

She wasn't just another person in his life; she had become a presence he couldn't ignore, a constant pull he couldn't resist.

His thoughts drifted toward the future, towards keeping her close, making plans to ensure she stayed by his side but there was an undeniable complication in the form of Destiny.

Raven still hadn't given him a definitive answer, despite the chemistry that clearly existed between them.

She was torn, caught between the overwhelming force that Ricky represented and the relationship she still maintained with Destiny.

As more time passed, Ricky's presence in Raven's life began to weave a different narrative in her mind.

He filled her thoughts with visions of a future that seemed foreign yet tantalizing along with sweet dreams, of a life where she didn't have to constantly look over her shoulder, always be on the run.

Raven had never really had a place to call home and growing up, everything seemed momentary, fleeting.

Relationships were temporary, and security was a concept she never quite understood.

But with Ricky, there was something different as he painted a picture of a life she hadn't allowed herself to dream about; a home, a family, a place where she could finally belong.

Deep down, Raven yearned for that and longed for a foundation, a sense of peace that she had never truly known.

"But the diaries-"

"Are wrong or too misleading, I mean, did they say anything about me?" Ricky's voice was soft but insistent as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear, planting seeds of doubt in her mind.

"I need more time to think, Ricky, it's all too much." Raven looked up at him, her eyes filled with conflict, but before she could say anything more, he kissed her gently on the lips, the gesture both comforting and confusing.

"Of course, take all the time you need." Ricky smiled stretched deeper, resting her head on his chest while Shadow Broker did the lord's work from the side.

"But you'll still come to the hearing, right?" Ricky asked softly, resting his head on her shoulder. He swayed with her, moving to the rhythm of the hateful chants from the mob outside, their anger pulsing through the air like an unseen beat.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," Raven chuckled, her fingers lightly running through his slicked-back hair before pulling away, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"But go get ready, I'll meet you there." Raven said, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before swaying away, her hips moving gracefully as she shifted into another form of a brunette.

"And now my heart aches," Ricky muttered with a dramatic sigh, watching her disappear around the corner with a laugh and with a shake of his head, he turned to head off and get ready himself.

Slipping discreetly away from the motel and the prying eyes, Raven made her way to a secluded telephone booth.

The quiet hum of the city surrounded her as she dialed the number, each click of the rotary bringing her closer to her destination.

After a moment, the line connected, and a gentle, familiar voice pursed through the phone.

"Raven?" Irene's voice came through the phone, laced with concern as she leaned against the phone booth.

"Yeah, it's me." Raven spoke softly, her voice betraying the conflict she felt as she rubbed her shoulder.

"I-I was worried about you, my visions are starting to blur, and after you didn't check in, and I assumed the worst." Irene's voice trembled through the phone as the concern was clear in her tone.

"And what is happening with the case, I thought you were going to handle it but now it's proceeding to the supreme court." Irene's voice followed up to their true motive, to where the concern really lay.

"Everything is changing and the plan-"

"I'm calling about the plan-........what if we help Ricky Luciano?" Raven spoke slowly into the phone, her words hanging in the air with a long pause following before Irene let out a deep sigh.

"Raven, please don't tell me you've promised to help him," Irene's voice came through the phone, tinged with frustration.

She knew all too well how easily Raven could be swept up in a cause, especially when it promised a chance to change her future.

"It's just that his case-"

"Ricky Luciano's case is already causing too many shifts in my visions and, furthermore, drawing more media attention and public backlash against mutants," Irene spoke over Raven, asserting herself toward her.

"I promised you that I'd bring us toward a future where mutants could live in peace and I meant that, but to do that, sacrifices need to be made and situations altered-'

"But it's just that, we could really make a difference!" Raven spoke through the phone, Ricky's words ensnaring her deeper as she thought about everything this civil case could do for mutant kind.

"This has the potential to set a precedent, to bring about the change we've hoped for-"

"Raven."

One unsettling word came through the phone, forcing Raven to flinch instinctively as it held no warmth, no love, only a directness that she had come to know all too well.

"Raven, dear, this will only bring about uncertainty and possible destruction." Irene's voice was low, yet it seemed to tower over Raven, forcing a heavy silence to follow.

"For our goals, for mutants, and for us, you need to stop this case for my visions are growing even blurryer by the day." Irene's words weren't her asking anymore but telling, showing that the control she had so perfectly orchestrated was slipping from her hands.

Raven was quiet, pressing her head against the booth and staring off into the distance as Irene patiently waited.

"I trust that you'll make the right decision, I'll see you when you come home." Irene ended the conversation first, leaving Raven all alone to ponder her thoughts.

Hanging up the phone and walking down the street, Raven couldn't help but think over everything she had lived for.

In fact, Raven was tired.

Forced to wear this mask, to hide her true self, shifting between identities, never able to let anyone in. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Each betrayal, each loss, added a new layer to the emotional armor she wore, making her cold, calculating, and untrusting.

She had seen the worst of humanity, manipulated by those who claimed to understand her plight, all while knowing that deep down, they feared her for what she truly was.

Years of living in shadows, fighting wars for survival, and losing the ones she loved weighed heavily on her.

Every step she took reminded her of the countless lives she had outlived, the horrors she had faced.

There were times when she had nearly given up, when the darkness seemed like a more inviting refuge than the endless battles she waged.

Yet, now, as she hung up the phone and walked down the street, a weariness settled into her bones.

It wasn't just physical exhaustion but a deeper, soul-crushing fatigue that came from years of living a life in constant turmoil.

She had fought, schemed, and sacrificed to carve out a place for herself in a world that barely acknowledged her worth.

But meeting Irene had stirred something inside her, it was as if, for the first time in years, there was a flicker of hope.

Irene saw her, the real Raven, and not just the façade she presented to the world.

There was no judgment in her eyes, only acceptance and the promise of a brighter future.

And though Raven was exhausted from the endless cycles of deception and violence, the thought of Irene was a lifeline as it whispered the possibility of something different, something better.

Over time, however, that flicker of hope began to dim.

Despite all her efforts; her sacrifices, her battles, her cunning, Raven found herself standing in the same place, surrounded by the same hatred.

It seemed no matter what she did, the world remained hostile, unyielding in its fear of her kind.

The victories she once fought for, the changes she once believed in, felt meaningless in the face of the constant backlash as every step forward was met with two steps back.

She had tried so hard, sometimes too hard, to bend the world to her will, to create a place where she and her people could live free from fear.

But instead of progress, there was only more anger, more rejection and with each failure, Raven's heart grew heavier.

The spark of hope that Irene had ignited was no longer enough to stave off the growing emptiness inside her.

It was as if everything she did, every plan she crafted, only fanned the flames of hatred, reinforcing the very systems she sought to dismantle.

The emptiness gnawed at her, a deep void that no amount of rage or vengeance could fill and for years, Raven had thrived on the thrill of the fight for her beliefs, but now, even that was losing its meaning.

That emptiness within Raven lingered until the day she crossed paths with Ricky, years ago, after she had stolen from the Mexican cartel.

She had anticipated the fallout, the pursuit, and the dangers that would follow her theft, but never could she have expected Ricky.

His words, cheesy and yet so haunting, had pierced through her hardened exterior like no one else's ever had.

Ricky was bold, sleazy, fearless, and spoke with a smooth clarity that unnerved her, leaving her with a lingering sense of discomfort long after they parted ways.

In those early days, she thought of him as nothing more than an inconvenience, a fly that refused to leave her alone, constantly buzzing at the edges of her world.

Yet, no matter how much distance she put between them, he always seemed to reappear, as if she was drawn to the chaos he induced, like they were bound by some unspoken connection.

Ricky didn't just linger in her mind; he was a force she couldn't shake and everywhere she turned, news about him would pop up.

Years passed, and when she saw him again, something had shifted.

Ricky wasn't the same reckless young man she had first encountered as he had grown, changed.

The fire she had once seen in his eyes was still there, but it was tempered by something more profound.

He had begun to transform not just himself, but the people, the world around him, reshaping the landscape with a reckless yet controlled determination that fascinated her as he was no longer going around chasing chaos; he was trying to control it, mold it.

It wasn't immediate, there were others with more and those who could do it better, but Ricky was just unrelenting.

That was the thing Raven found herself admiring about him, in a way she hadn't admired anyone in a long time.

Ricky, against all odds, was actually changing things; something she had long since stopped believing was possible.

Watching him rise, where she had stumbled, lit a spark within her once again.

And that made her jealous, but at the same time, she couldn't turn away and Raven found herself standing outside the courthouse where Ricky would be presenting his case.

Disguised as a reporter, she observed the growing tension in the air as the crowd was relentless, hurling comments and accusations, their voices blending into a cacophony of hate.

Lights flashed as Ricky walked into the building, his presence almost magnetic as he moved through it all, his eyes unwavering and when Raven watched, her heart suddenly tore between loyalty and uncertainty.

Everything was held in that smile he wore, a mix of defiance and confidence that cut through the hate-filled crowd.

Raven couldn't look away, even as he waved, his calm and cocky demeanor rose above all the hate constantly surrounding him.

She slipped into the courthouse, blending in as another face in the sea of onlookers.

The air was thick with murmurs, the room already packed with people eager to witness the day's proceedings.

Raven found an empty seat, her eyes scanning the room, searching for familiar faces.

Amidst the sea of regular people, the ordinary faces, there were a few distinct ones, mutants who sat with their heads held just a little higher.

Their eyes followed Ricky with a mix of hope and awe, seeing in him something they hadn't dared to dream of in years: a voice.

A voice unafraid to speak up for their pain, their struggles, their existence.

These were the people who had grown up in the shadows, haunted by the constant fear of being found out, of never being able to rise beyond the stigma that clung to them.

Yet, here they were, in this room, their eyes locked on Ricky as he stood beside Marshall, laughing effortlessly, as if the weight of the world didn't rest on his shoulders.

They saw him not just as a man, but as a symbol of something that could be more, something they could finally believe in.

Raven's eyes welled up in that moment, her heart tightening as she watched Ricky, but even then, she smiled.

'Go get them Ricky.'

"Will you stop laughing at me, this tie is nice!" Marshall blushed furiously, trying to hide his tie that had poca dots as Ricky held his stomach.

"Y-You wore poca dots to the biggest trial of your life-"

SNORT

Ricky snorted, unable to hold down his laughter as Marshall crumbled under it before he sought to change the subject.

"Alright listen up Ricky, I know we've been over this but for a quick run down, the supreme court is different in that the cases are broken up like this-"

Before the hearing, the Court selects which cases to hear and this process is known as granting a writ of certiorari.

Four of the nine justices must agree to hear the case for it to be accepted and typically, these cases involve significant constitutional questions or conflicts between lower courts.

If accepted, the appealing case moves on to the 'Briefs Submission' stage, where both parties; the petitioner, who is appealing the case, and the respondent, defending the lower court's ruling, submit written briefs before the hearing.

These briefs outline their legal arguments, citing relevant cases and legal precedents.

Additionally, amicus curiae briefs (friend-of-the-court briefs) may be filed by outside parties with a significant interest in the case.

Then once those tiring documents are submitted, the hearing itself primarily consists of oral arguments.

Each side has a limited amount of time, usually like 30 minutes per side, to present their case before the justices while the petitioner goes first, followed by the respondent.

How it works is quite simple, the lawyers stand at a podium to deliver their arguments.

But this is where things are different than regular cases as during this time, the justices can (and often do) interrupt to ask questions.

The justices' questions can reveal their thoughts, but they are also designed to challenge the lawyers and clarify points.

In fact, the justices are typically very active during oral arguments, and their questions can sometimes dominate the time allotted.

This is where lawyers might struggle since they must be prepared for tough, rapid-fire questioning.

Justices may ask about specific legal precedents, hypotheticals, or the broader implications of the case and will not be afraid to go for the throat at most times.

After both sides have presented, the petitioner may have a brief period to offer a rebuttal to the respondent's arguments which really allows them to respond to points raised during the hearing.

After oral arguments conclude, the justices meet privately to discuss the case in a conference.

No one else is present during these deliberations as the Chief Justice usually starts the discussion, followed by each justice in order of seniority.

The justices express their views and leanings on how the case should be resolved.

Then if you thought it would be over then you'd be wrong since after reaching a preliminary decision, one justice is assigned to write the majority opinion, which explains the Court's decision and the legal reasoning behind it.

If the Chief Justice is in the majority, they typically assign the opinion writing; if not, the most senior justice in the majority assigns it.

But justices who disagree with the majority can write dissenting opinions, and sometimes a concurring opinion is written by justices who agree with the outcome but not the reasoning behind it.

Then finally, once the opinions are finalized, the Court announces its decision, which can sometimes happen months after the hearing.

The decision is read in the courtroom, and written opinions are released to the public.

"I know we've gone over this, but we're at the oral arguments now," Marshall said, side-eyeing the man standing next to a cuffed Dewey, who was glaring at Marshall.

"Slick listen, this is the big leagues and that's Jame M. Beck-"

"Wait, don't tell me, he's famous in this area." Ricky let out in a complete boredom, resting his hand on his head.

"If Hawkins was a prominent man, then he's notorious—he's the conservative party's steamroller for civil cases," Marshall said, nervously taking a deep breath as Ricky leaned back, while James didn't even bother to look at him.

"Now the justices, they consist of-"

Charles Evans Hughes - Chief Justice:

Appointed by: President Herbert Hoover

Term: 1930-Present

Notable: Hughes had served as an Associate Justice from 1910 to 1916 but resigned to run for president and then failed. He returned to the Court as Chief Justice in 1930. He has led the Court through several critical cases related to New Deal legislation under Franklin Roosevelt.

Willis Van Devanter - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President William Howard Taft

Term: 1911-Present

Notable: Willis is a conservative justice who opposed much of Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal legislation, a part of a shared moniker that is known as the "Four Horsemen" a group of four justices known for their opposition to the New Deal.

James Clark McReynolds - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Woodrow Wilson

Term: 1914-Present

Notable: McReynolds was another conservative justice and fierce opponent of New Deal policies. A part of the four horsemen and is regarded for his strong personality and often controversial views, particularly regarding civil rights.

Louis Brandeis - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Woodrow Wilson

Term: 1916-Present

Notable: Brandeis was a progressive justice and an avid supporter of New Deal reforms. He was even the first Jewish justice on the Supreme Court and is well known for his advocacy of free speech.

George Sutherland - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Warren G. Harding

Term: 1922-Present

Notable: Sutherland was a conservative member of the Court and also part of the Four Horsemen. He is a very strong advocate of limited government intervention in the economy and is very vocal about this stance in the media.

Pierce Butler - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Warren G. Harding

Term: 1923-Present

Notable: He is a conservative catholic justice, Butler is known for his opposition to New Deal measures, often siding with the other conservative justices on the Court.

Harlan F. Stone - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Calvin Coolidge

Term: 1925-Present

Notable: A more moderate and later liberal justice, Stone supported much of Roosevelt's New Deal legislation and is known for his defense of civil liberties.

Owen J. Roberts - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Herbert Hoover

Term: 1930-Present

Notable: Roberts played a crucial role in the so-called "switch in time that saved nine" where he shifted his vote to uphold certain New Deal measures, which is often seen as helping to prevent Roosevelt's court-packing plan.

Benjamin N. Cardozo - Associate Justice:

Appointed by: President Herbert Hoover

Term: 1932-Present

Notable: Cardozo was a liberal justice and a strong supporter of New Deal policies. He was renowned for his judicial philosophy and contributions to modern American law.

"Louis Brandeis, Benjamin N. Cardozo, and Harlan F. Stone will most likely take our side, as they're strong advocates for social reform. But the others, well, will be tricky." Marshall wiped his forehead, adjusting himself before glancing at Ricky, who was casually picking his teeth.

"I have a plan, don't worry too much." Ricky tapped Marshall's shoulder, rubbing his fingers along the fabric of his suit as Marshall raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Wait, what plan-"

BAM

BAM

"Order, order!" Chief Justice Hughes commanded, his voice cutting through the chatter of the bustling room, commanding the attention of everyone present for the highly anticipated case.

As Marshall prepared to address the Court, his mind raced through the key points he had to make:

The stop and search was not grounded with not a single concrete suspicion of criminal activity but solely in the fear that Ricky was a mutant.

The Constitution's protection under the Fourth Amendment applies to all individuals, regardless of genetic background.

If the Court allowed this overreach, it would set a dangerous precedent, allowing the government to target any minority group based on fear and prejudice.

(reminder have them asking questions)

'Beck's argument would likely center around public safety, the supposed threat mutants posed, and how authorities were justified in their actions.' Marshall said to himself, knowing the heart of the matter was simple: liberty and the law could not bend to fear.

"We will now hear the case of Ricky Luciano v. State." Chief Justice Hughes declared while leaning forward, his hands clasped before him, signaling the time had come.

"May it please the Court." Marshall rose, his heart steady and as he began, his voice carried a resolute tone.

"Today, we are not simply arguing about the unlawful search of one individual's car. We are standing at the intersection of fear and freedom, where the fundamental rights guaranteed by the Constitution must not be diluted by prejudice, nor sacrificed in the name of public suspicion." Marshall started, summarizing those three points from earlier into his introduction.

"We contend." Marshall continued, eyeing the justices who didn't interrupt him in the least.

"Ricky Luciano was subjected to a search and seizure not because of any evidence of wrongdoing, but solely based on his identity as a mutant. This case is not about whether Ricky Luciano has or has not committed any crime, no such evidence was ever presented or even suggested. It is about whether the government has the right to violate an individual's constitutional protections simply because of who they are." Marshall furthered his first point perfectly, showing that they were a country built on freedom, not tyranny.

"The Fourth Amendment of the Constitution is clear. It ensures that 'the right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated.' The text does not specify exceptions for mutants, for those deemed different, or for individuals perceived as threats. It is a universal protection." Marshall was becoming more passionate while voicing his second point, finding his groove before his gaze shifted to the justices, his voice steady and compelling.

"The state's actions in this case reflect an overreach into the personal lives of individuals, driven by prejudice rather than evidence. If allowed to stand, this would set a precedent that government authorities could target and violate the rights of any person based on their genetic makeup, personal characteristics, or simply because they are different. This is a dangerous path, one that erodes the very principles of equality and justice upon which our nation was founded." Marshall took a breath but when he did, one of the justices spoke first.

"Son, how does this erode the very principles of equality when it could be argued that the state is simply trying to protect its citizens from potential harm?" Justice Devanter's voice was sharp, his eyes focused intently on Marshall as he leaned forward, eager to probe deeper into the matter.

Marshall's hands clenched slightly, the pressure mounting but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to as he had anticipated pushback.

But the courtesy and directness of it left him a bit off balance as he opened his mouth but hesitated, scrambling for the words to justify his stance.

"Well, uh-" Marshall stammered, his confidence faltering for a brief moment.

"The issue is that the government shouldn't be able to target individuals-"

"But the state is merely acting out of concern, son. If mutants are a potential threat to public safety, surely it's not unreasonable to take precautions. Where do you draw the line between civil liberties and public protection?" Devanter cut him off, his voice steady and dismissive as it pushed even deeper in Marshall's heistance.

"I understand the need for protection, but-" Marshall's head was spinning, his over preparation sowing the seeds of doubt into every word that was about to be spoken, leaving them somewhat tangled.

Before he could gather his thoughts, Justice Sutherland, one of the other four horsemen, who had been silent until now, chimed in with a cold and cutting remark.

"Mr. Marshall, you're suggesting we put the Constitution above the safety of the public? Are you saying that we should ignore the potential threat that mutants pose, simply because of their genetic makeup?" Sutherland's voice dripped with skepticism, his southern tone making Marshall feel small in front of the bench.

This was different and Marshall was starting to understand why.

These weren't judges from backside counties, thatweren't experienced with mere civil conflicts, this was the heart of American Law.

These men have looked before lawyers just like Marshall, and crushed them.

It honestly didn't bother them that he was a Negro because they were already better than him, more experienced then him, and the height in which they sat while looking down at him showed that.

They didn't need to degrade him, they didn't even need to play dirty, all they had to do was wait until this inexperienced youngster built himself up, before they would just tear him down.

But in that same regard, this was different, he was different.

Unlike lawyers, having gone to some ivy school and seeking to make a name for themselves that wasn't attached to their rich daddies, Marshall had nothing.

He was nothing, but that just made him hungry.

"Your Honor, it's not about putting the Constitution above safety," Marshall finally said, his voice a little shaky at first but pulling himself up by his own bootstraps, just like he'd always done before.

"It's about maintaining the principles that protect everyone equally. The Fourth Amendment wasn't written with exceptions in mind. If we allow one group to be targeted because they're different, it opens the door for all kinds of abuses; whether it's race, religion, or, yes, genetic makeup. We cannot allow fear of the unknown to dictate how we treat people, let fear dictate how we run this country." Marshall's voice boomed, puffing his chest and standing before the white men who sought to always put him down, he was making a stand.

"And yet, you want us to allow potential threats to go unchecked because of an abstract principle? You're asking the Court to overlook a tangible risk for the sake of an ideal." Sutherland's southern voice echoed out, prompting him to lean forward, his eyes narrowing.

"That's a fine line to walk, don't you think?" Sutherland looked down upon this negro, showing rather than telling how little respect he had for the man in front of him.

"I'm not asking for unchecked freedom and neither is my client, Justice Sutherland." Marshall said, his voice firmer this time, feeling actually comfortable when Sutherland showed him that gaze.

"I'm asking for the government to have evidence, actual proof, before it can infringe on someone's rights. This case is not about protecting what could be, it is about ensuring that no one's rights are trampled because of who they are, not because of something they've done. We cannot let suspicion be enough to strip away what makes us equal under the law." Marshall circled back to this point but Devanter just wasn't having it.

"But if we don't allow the state to act in situations like this, then we risk letting something terrible happen. How can you justify that?" Devanter wondered out loud, pressing the risk that a mutant can have onto Marshall.

But instead of disregarding it or putting it to the side, Marshall looked Devanter straight in the eye as if embracing it.

"I can justify it because we've seen what happens when we allow fear to drive decisions." Marshall said, his voice gaining strength with each word as that shaky feeling in his voice evaporated.

"We cannot make decisions based on fear of the unknown; it only leads to suffering. We must stick to the principles that have made this country great; equality, fairness, and freedom for all." Marshall spread out his arms, the justices watching this traction but even when Devantar backed up, Sutherland wasn't finished.

"It is easy to speak of fairness and equality, but what do you say to the families of those who are harmed by mutants? To the citizens who live in constant fear, knowing that anyone, anyone, can wield such horrifying power without restriction?" Sutherland paused, letting the silence and doubt settle before continuing.

"Would you put their safety at risk for the sake of this, idealism?" Sutherland wasn't hiding it anymore, indirectly showing that Marshall was actually getting to him as the other justices realized this too.

"The government has a responsibility to protect citizens, that is tribe and truth"Marshall said, his voice growing steadier as he was reveling in Sutherlands ill intent, finding it comfortable rather than growing anxious.

"But we cannot do so at the expense of our fundamental freedoms. If we begin targeting people based on fear, we set a precedent that destroys the very foundation of equality. Safety should never come at the cost of the unknown and it only sets up the destruction of everything we have created." Marshall reverberated, hitting that same point home over and over again, making sure what would happen if this was allowed to go on.

What was remarkable to the justices watching wasn't how Marshall responded, any lawyer in the room could have given a similar answer.

It was how easily he recovered as the justices knew all too well that those two were notorious for crushing rookie lawyers, and yet, Marshall wasn't a typical newcomer.

They knew his reputation, and now that they saw his ability to regain composure so swiftly, it wouldn't go unnoticed.

But it made one smile as he looked down at his future pupil without even knowing.

"Mr. Marshall, please continue your oral statement." Louis Brandeis, who was smiling, gestured towards Marshall who flinched.

Ahem

"In the interest of justice, we ask this Court to affirm that the protections of the Constitution apply equally to all individuals, regardless of their genetic identity. To uphold the rule of law is to ensure that every person, no matter their background or abilities, is afforded the same rights and freedoms." Marshall continued, voicing his third point that was pushed to the side for questioning by the justices but perfectly got back on track.

Marshall glanced towards James M. Beck, who was preparing to present his counterarguments.

He knew Beck would argue for public safety and the perceived necessity of such searches in the face of potential threats.

But Marshall remained confident in the fundamental principle he was fighting for, the unwavering commitment to the Constitution's protections.

"We submit that the only way to preserve the integrity of our constitutional guarantees is to recognize and rectify this unlawful search and seizure. For the sake of every citizen's rights and the future of our legal and moral compass, we ask this Court to rule in favor of Mr. Luciano and affirm that the principles of justice that were already ruled in his favor, thank you." Marshall capped it off, receiving only one form of applause which came from Ricky himself.

However, this commentary did not go unnoticed and in fact, it inspired an unlikely onlooker.

Jake, standing off to the side, watched the scene with wide eyes, rendered speechless by the entire spectacle.

He took in everything Marshall stood for' the unflinching confidence, the unwavering commitment to his words, and found himself unable to utter a single word of retribution against it.

In the meantime, James M. Beck rose with a measured, confident demeanor as he addressed the Court.

"May it please the Court." Beck began, his voice echoing through the solemn chamber.

"While Mr. Marshall's arguments emphasize constitutional guarantees; it is imperative to consider the broader context of public safety and the unique challenges posed by the presence of individuals with mutant abilities." Beck started off, his topic predicted by Marshall almost perfectly and yet, he continued, letting his words resonate.

"The state's actions in this case, though admittedly intrusive, were driven by legitimate concerns for public safety. In an era where mutants possess extraordinary and sometimes unpredictable abilities, law enforcement must be granted a degree of latitude to address potential threats. The search conducted was a necessary precaution, given the specific circumstances surrounding Mr. Luciano's behavior and the context in which he was encountered." Beck furthered, hammering this point and trying to solidify it while all the justices looked on, except one.

"Mr. Beck, while I understand your concern for public safety, I must ask; how do you reconcile the state's actions with the constitutional protections that are afforded to every citizen, regardless of their status as mutants?" Justice Brandeis raised his hand slightly, signaling for Beck to pause as his tone was measured, yet firm.

"The Fourth Amendment clearly protects individuals from unreasonable searches and seizures. You suggest that the state's actions were necessary due to the unpredictability of mutant abilities, but doesn't that open the door for the government to bypass constitutional rights based on perceived threats rather than actual evidence of wrongdoing?" Justice Brandeis paused, his voice growing slightly more pointed as his question wasn't even finished.

"If this is to be allowed, allow such exceptions to be made for the sake of 'public safety,' where are we to draw the line? Are we to sacrifice the very rights that make us free, simply because some may fear what others are capable of?" Justice Brandeis asked, clearly wanting to know if only 'public safety' was his counter to everything Marshall had spoken for.

"Your Honor, I believe the issue is one of national security and the preservation of order. The Fourth Amendment, while essential, was written in a time that couldn't have foreseen the challenges we face today. Mutants, as we know, possess powers that can pose a significant risk to public safety. It is not simply about the individual in question but about ensuring the protection of society as a whole." Beck countered, widening eyes while subtly suggesting changing the very constitution.

"You have to understand, the state's actions were driven by the NEED to address potential threats with mutants like Mr. Luciano, who displays behaviors that, while not perceived as criminal, can be perceived as risky. Law enforcement must be able to act proactively to prevent harm. The search, in this case, was a necessary precaution, and it was conducted in accordance with the circumstances presented." Beck shifted slightly, maintaining eye contact with the justice.

"This isn't about ignoring constitutional rights, Your Honor. This is about adapting those rights to meet the pressing demands of our time. The Fourth Amendment's protections are vital, but we must also allow for certain exceptions in extreme situations, situations where the public's safety is at stake. That's the balance we must strike." Beck's stance was firm, wiggling around all of the pitfalls put in front of him like the seasoned veteran he was and showed why he was chosen.

"Now, the nature of mutant abilities introduces complexities not faced by the general population. These individuals can exhibit powers that may endanger public safety if not properly monitored. It is within this context that the state's actions should be understood, not as an overreach, but as a prudent and measured response to a real and present danger." Beck continued onward, not even waiting for another Justice to chime in as he steamrolled through his words.

But weirdly enough, none of the justices even showed an inkling to stop him and merely let it all play out.

"The state did not act arbitrarily but based on the information and circumstances at hand. The patrol officers involved had reasons to suspect that Mr. Luciano might be in possession of dangerous materials or equipment related to his mutant abilities. Their actions, though they involved a search and seizure, were carried out with the intent to ensure public safety and prevent potential harm." Beck once again voiced 'public safety', doing so to really drive that point home because he didn't want to push away that fear, but foster it.

He wanted his stance to resonate with that fear of the unknown, unlike Marshall who was trying to fend it off.

Because the fear of the unknown, while presumptive, would be his greatest asset in this fight.

"The Fourth Amendment, while providing vital protections, must also be interpreted in a manner that accommodates the realities of modern challenges. The Court has historically recognized that certain exceptions to the warrant requirement exist when public safety is at stake. The situation Mr. Luciano was involved in fits within this framework and is no different." Beck was tearing Marshall's words down and stomping on them, appealing to all those cases of Civil liberties rejected and saying that this once wasn't any different.

"We acknowledge that the search was indeed invasive, but it was conducted under circumstances that justified its necessity. The state's actions were aimed at mitigating risks that are unique to the presence of mutants. We ask this Court to consider these factors and uphold the actions taken by the authorities, as they were in line with a commitment to public safety and security." Beck's words caught Marshall off guard but not only that, it was going further.

It was recognizing that they were at fault but because of that unknown, it was justified and would set the most dangerous precedent if Ricky lost this appeal.

"And that is why we also ask the courts to put aside Mr. Dewey's current trial until he is found guilty." Beck didn't stop there but continued, his next words even more outlandish than the last as Marshall couldn't help but immediately rise.

"Objection-"

"The motion to include Mr. Dewey's current trial is both inappropriate and irrelevant to the matter at hand. The focus of this case should remain solely on the legality of the search and seizure conducted on Mr. Luciano, not on unrelated or extraneous proceedings." Beck's voice rose higher than Marshall who looked to the side.

Bam

"Order!" Chief Justice Hughes banged his gavel, pointing at both Marshall and Beck.

"There will be none of that back and forth in this court, do you both understand?" Chief Justice Hughes squinted at them since this wasn't a rural court, but the supreme court.

"Yes, your honor." Both Marshall and Beck answered, nodding along before the chief justice regained himself.

"Now, with that being said, we will put Mr. Dewey's personal case to the side until a proper conviction is brought forth." Chief Justice Hughes' words caused loud murmurs to suddenly violate the surroundings as Marshall gritted his teeth.

"Hahahahahahaha!" Ricky's laughter slowly consumed the area into a deafening silence as all eyes slowly fell towards him.

"Is there something funny, Mr. Luciano?" Chief Justice Hughes asked Ricky, crossing his fingers alongside one another.

"I'm sorry, I mean, it just caught me off guard about the impartialness of the supreme court, that's all." Ricky leaned back in his chair, shrugging as Chief Justice Hughes squinted his eyes alongside a number of other justices.

"Slick, don't say-"

"I got this," Ricky said with a confident wink at Marshall, raising a hand as Chief Justice Hughes subtly adjusted his tie.

"I don't know where you learned your manners boy, but this is the supreme court, a place-"

"Where violent offenders are treated like law-abiding citizens, I get it, I understand." Ricky said, raising his hands and deliberately provoking them as Beck immediately stood up, clearly agitated.

"Mr. Dewey is currently in the process of a trial, one that has yet to even find a shred of evidence against him in the-"

"Mass murder of a group of young men." Ricky coughed from the side, audible gasps sounding around him as they gazed at Dewey who shrunk his neck.

"ORDER, ORDER!"

"NOW THAT IS ENOUGH OF YOUR RECKLESS TALKING OR I'LL HOLD YOU IN CONTEMPT!" Chief Justice Hughes roared at Ricky who held up his hands, zipping his lips but he already got what he wanted.

The reporters couldn't help but write about the unfolding drama, their pens flying as the scene unfolded.

Chief Justice Hughes and Beck exchanged glances, both visibly displeased by Ricky's provocation, the tension in the room palpable.

"That will be all for the oral arguments. Rebuttals will conclude tomorrow before deliberations begin," Chief Justice Hughes declared, his gavel striking the podium with authority.

The justices slowly rose from their seats, preparing to exit as Marshall turned to Ricky, his expression thoughtful as he gave him a subtle nod.

"Slick?" Marshall's head jerked side to side, his eyes scanning the room, until the blinding flashes of cameras overwhelmed him.

He turned just in time to catch a glimpse of Ricky, already striding confidently toward the door, nearly disappearing into the sea of reporters.

"SLICK!" Marshall's heart seemed to leap out of his chest as he watched his client charge headfirst into an angry mob.

The cameras flashed, the crowd shouted, and Ricky's determined steps only seemed to fuel their fury.

Marshall's instincts screamed to intervene, but he was paralyzed by the chaos unfolding before him.

"LISTEN UP!" Ricky's voice boomed as he swung open the door, unleashing a tsunami of reporters, spectators, and the lingering attention of the justices, who had yet to retreat into their chambers.

The room behind him and the chaos unfolding outside fell silent for a split second, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, as all eyes turned toward him.

"I'VE KEPT SILENT FOR A LONG TIME SINCE I'VE LONG RESPECTED AMERICA AND EVERYTHING IT HOLDS DEAR!" Ricky's voice boomed, cutting through the room with such force that it seemed to drown out even their subconscious thoughts.

His words echoed in their minds, filling the space with nothing but his own presence as the weight of his declaration settled over them.

And yet, despite the thunderous start, it was revealed that Shadow Broker had yet to even begin, before he finally started to rip his first piece of paper.

There was a glaring problem with how the justices were handling this trial, they were approaching Ricky like any other defendant, when in reality, he was nothing like those they'd dealt with before.

He wasn't some noble figure fighting for a righteous cause, no, Ricky thrived on pettiness.

The justices had never encountered a man like him in their courtroom, a man who seemed determined to throw his own reputation into the fire, to draw attention not through the merit of his case but by his willingness to badmouth anyone in his path.

His antics weren't driven by principle or justice; they were fueled by something much more personal, much more volatile.

Ricky Luciano was a force they had hoped to never see in their court, and yet, here he was, pushing the boundaries in ways they hadn't anticipated.

"THIS IS MY HOME AND NOT ONLY THAT, IT WAS A PLACE WHERE I ONCE DREAMED OF SERVING THIS GREAT COUNTRY OF OURS BY JOINING THE ARMY!" Ricky revealed, his words hanging in the air like a thunderclap, leaving the room in stunned silence.

No one had expected this confession, and the impact was immediate as everyone was left baffled, trying to process the unexpected revelation.

Because it was utter bullsh*t.

It wasn't just about winning for Ricky; no, he was determined to do more.

Ricky wasn't going to merely claim victory, he was going to make everyone else appear as the villain in this story.

"IT IS MY DREAM, MY PASSION, TO SERVE THIS COUNTRY, YET ALL IT DOES IS HATE ME AND LOATH ME!" Ricky's voice rang out, raw with frustration and fire, echoing off the walls of the courtroom.

The words seemed to hang in the air as his eyes burned with intensity that took in the reactions of the people around him, knowing this moment would forever be etched in their minds with every tear of a piece of paper by Shadow Broker.

"SO I NEED TO SAY SOMETHING, REVEAL THE TRUE REASON I LEFT THREE YEARS AGO!" Ricky's voice rang out, leaving everyone on the edge of their metaphorical seats, eyes wide with surprise.

This was a side of him they had never seen before; vulnerable, powerful, and full of conviction.

His words weren't just aimed at the Supreme Court or the public; they would catch even the president off guard.

Ricky wasn't just here to fight a case today, he had come here to make a statement, determined to make this day all about himself whether America, or even the world, wanted it or not.

"I AM THE BLACK KNIGHT!"

Author's Note: This Chapter was a f*cking b*tch to write, even though I literally wrote it ahead of time. It still sucks looking back at it now. I also don't know what I was saying with some lingo since it's all lawyer jargon from when I was watching Suits at the time. So, if what I'm saying is actually dumb as f*ck and there are law people out there who wanna comment on stuff that literally makes no sense, go nuts cause Google was my literal best friend along with its side hoe, Wikipedia.