The
world was a different place – females were
wiped away all because of a mistake. Homophobes say it was
for
the sins of the homosexuals. The homosexuals say it was justification
that they are not monsters. The world of men truly became a
world
of men, and as such we became a divided tribe. The
homosexuals,
and the sexual deviants took up in tribes as there were no women to
satisfy the latter. Those who felt righteous, and scorned by
God
decided to walk the path of celibacy, yet secretly they vented their
sexual lust through female androids. The heroes had
no life
mates anymore. And some of them seemed to adjust just
fine.
Stories floated around though about the Bat, and the
Superman.
About how they couldn't come to grips with this bleak future, so they
went to search the universe for a cure. And were never heard
from
again.
That left the Martian who acted like a lawman, and wandered about doing
his part to save the world – to maintain order.
But, how
does a world function without females – without mothers to
care
for their sons, to teach them manners, to instill in them some of the
morality that they will need growing up. Perhaps, just
perhaps
that was why a demented chemist like Poison Ivy's plan went
astray. She sought to rid the world of men, when Ra's Al
Ghoul
sought to rid the world of people, and he tampered with her virus
designed to destroy men. Thus, women ceased to exist through
a
fluke.
Many questioned why man was unaffected, but no one save a few knew the
real reason.
Decades came and went, society moved on. Taboo practices
became
accepted norms. Former accepted norms became taboo
practices. One lone man stood out in the rotten city of
Blüdhaven, his locks of white interspersed with
black. They
say Old Man Grayson made a deal with the Demon's Head some time ago
after his “father” left. A promise of
immortality so
that he could watch over the city of Blüdhaven, as every woman
he
was close to was gone. Every woman he loved. Any
thoughts
of settling down, no matter how dim they were went up in a puff of
smoke. All he had was the mission.
No one knows how Old Man Grayson gets through the days. They
say
he's a Catholic, lapsed, but still. They say he's slightly
crazy,
always talking to himself. Or, maybe he just wants people to
think he's crazy. Some believe he's
communicating
with God, and praying for forgiveness. What little use that
would
gain him.
My guess is he is communicating with his dear departed ones –
to
pay respects before his last days.
Nightwing leaped through the air, a grapnel fired from his gauntlet. He
pulled taut, and swung over the streets below. His wild blue
eyes
took in the filth on the streets, as he mumbled to himself.
The
words love, and Kori just barely audible. He landed on top of
a
light post and looked down, his piercing stare frightening away a
couple who hurried by with their hands on each other’s
asses. He raised his head slightly – a shadow
covered up
the sun. He saw the outline of the Blüdhaven Police
Department's Crime Prevention Squad. Several full tactical
gear
officers slid down on their lines, while Old Man Grayson made for the
rooftops.
“This is Lieutenant Rohrbach, I want Old Man Grayson
alive!”
Deft fingers let roll small marbles from a hidden compartment,
explosions rocked the streets, and the CPS were left flat footed as Old
Man Grayson was running away laughing as if there were humor in his
actions. Lieutenant Rohrbach tossed his headset, and leaned
back
in the seat. From a good distance away Old Man Grayson could
see
the CPS carrier jet, and he leaped down into the old, open sky light of
a brownstone building he bought some years ago. As he landed
in a
crouch, he scanned his surroundings, and then looked over to the
computer, which was lit up.
Oracle
on-line.
Old Man Grayson typed a few keys, and a holographic image of Barbara
Gordon appeared in the middle of the room. He came around,
and
plopped down on the couch. A press off the button closed the
skylight, and Oracle's hard light form sat on the couch beside him.
“You all right, Man Wonder?”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed behind the jet black domino mask
shaped like his namesake. Old Man Grayson tapped the edge of
the
chair with his fingertips, and then said in broken voice.
“Check the channels, all CPS lines – search for
Gossip.”
“Understood,” the hologram said, and ran a hand
against his
cheek, but he shied away. “Be safe.”
Old Man Grayson stood up, and stepped on a floor panel, which opened up
a section of the floor, and there was a descending staircase leading
into the lower levels. He walked down the stairs to the
ramped up
Nightbird that had some earmarks of the old Batmobile. Old
Man
Grayson got inside after the canopy slid back, and fired up the
engines. The car hummed like a monster from Hell.
He set
the car into gear, and peeled out, the turbines blasting behind the
Nightbird.
Underground tunnels mined through since the last alien invasion made a
good network for the Nightbird to travel. The filthy, muddy
water
would swash, as Old Man Grayson sped through. His mind
focused on
one travel point. Across the county line there was nothing
for
miles, not since the great Chemo disaster. Without a Green
Lantern, or a Superman – no one was able to stop Chemo from
wiping out half the eastern seaboard from Gotham all the way up to
Metropolis. The elimination of woman-kind had even
removed
many of the great female sorcerers and disrupted the entire magical
landscape. Wars were not only waged on Earth destroying, or
rotting the cores of cities, and the people, but battled in the heavens
where lives were tossed away like great refuse.
If one could see the oceans, they could understand why Aquaman had
sealed off his kingdom from the land of surface dwellers. A
small
camera drone floated above the world projecting a giant image of the
scorched landscape – the bruised and beaten
ecosystem. It
recorded the filth, and disease, the sexual conducts. It saw
everything, and no one could discern its purpose. A few
heroes in
Superman's class tried to demolish it, some of the science types tried
to study it, but all were rebuked by a powerful repellent
field.
With so many things going on, Old Man Grayson couldn't help, but keep
focused on his mission. He stared ahead like a fanatical
crusader
in a hopeless cause. No longer was there optimism in his
eyes. But, a madness – a cagey madness that saw the
world
in a particular light. If there was a future, he believed he
held
the key to see it through.
Miles were traveled. A wasteland was all that existed as Old Man
Grayson drove through the ashen remains of Gotham. Several
minutes from there, he was at the Falls entrance to the Batcave, and he
drove inside. Immediately all systems came on-line.
The
canopy popped, and slid back. He leaped out, and landed on
the
balls of his feet, his hands on his knees. A retina scan was
run
on him, as soon as he stood up followed by a full body scan.
He
walked by self-assured that the Batcave would not deem him a
threat. He came up to the Bat Computer, and wiped the dust
off
the keyboard. A few buttons were tapped, and Alfred drones
became
active, and started making with the clean up of the cave. Old
Man
Grayson had the runway light up toward a vault with a recombination
lock that would change pass codes every hour.
The wrong pass code typed in would mean certain vaporization by the
laser grid that hid in wait above the vault door. He smiled,
it
was a wide one with his teeth bared. Quick presses of the
keys,
and the computer processed the pass code entered. For a
moment,
the laser grid began to lock on Old Man Grayson, but it stopped
suddenly. The indicator flashed green, and Old Man Grayson
walked
inside.
On a chair, heavily sedated, and fed specially derived antibiotics and
nutrients sat Niang Guan Jun, known in her former native country of
China as Mother Of Champions. A meta human with the
genetically
engineered ability to conceive and gestate children at rapid
speeds. Each child she bore was blessed with superhuman
abilities
that made them stronger, faster, and more durable than a normal
man. However, particular suitors that impregnated Niang could
produce children with a varied range of abilities. Old Man
Grayson tapped the computer keyboard next to her, and she slowly became
conscious.
“Hmm, I see you have returned.”
“I promised I would,” he said and unlatched her
waist. “Your daughter's recuperative powers still
astonish
me – if it wasn't for her, Wayne Medical and Star Labs would
not
have been able to make an antibody.”
“And yet they cannot figure out how to rid the air we breathe
of
the pathogen so future women can be born...”
Old Man Grayson lowered his head, “No – not yet at
least.”
Niang caressed his face, and tilted her head as a small smile formed on
hers. “Do not be sad. Come it is time for me to
mate
again.”
She pulled off Old Man Grayson's mask, and kissed him on the
lips. He pulled off her dress, revealing her beautiful
delicate
body. A bed was nearby and he sat on it as she stripped him
down,
and they began touching, and tasting each other. Exploring
every
corner of each other’s body. An hour and a half
went by,
and Old Man Grayson came out of the vault. His hair was wet
from
a recent shower. He came down the steps quickly as he wore a
fresh uniform. One of the Alfred drones came up and offered
him a
fresh meal. He waved it away, and walked toward the Nightbird
yet
paused when he saw Niang standing by near the staircase, smiling at
him. Already she looked two to three months pregnant.
“Do you regret what I ask of you?” he asked her.
“Hua is my only daughter,” she said with a steel
resolve. “You will keep your promise, and save her
–
I know you will.”
Old Man Grayson gave a slight bow, and motioned for two Alfred drones
to help her back to her seat. He then climbed into the
Nightbird,
and as it spun on the turntable, he fired up the engines. The
turbine shot out a burst of flame as it sped off from the Batcave
through the secret entrance. Niang gave a look at his
departing
form while holding onto the wall before being helped back to the chair
where she would sleep through her next round of births.
Perhaps a mad man would try and fight fate. But, Old Man
Grayson
considered himself long past titles, and classifications. His
only concerns were creating a better future for humanity, or what was
left of it. Even if it disrupted the status quo as it was.
Gibson
Street,
right across from Newman Park
A scream could be no more useless than a taser. The CPS was
only
concerned with state of matters that involved the social
elite. A
picture of the president stood on a poster board, partially spray
painted with a racial slur, and swastika symbol on it.
Jefferson
Pierce walked down the street limping with his bad leg. His
head
held low, and his eyes staring down at his feet not because of shame,
but because he no longer focused on the prison walls of the outside
world. Two white boys wearing gang colors came running
through,
and bumped into him hard, sending him stumbling backward. He
put
his weight on his good leg to keep his balance, and sparks began arcing
between his fingertips as he watched them run down onto the next alley.
Jefferson closed his eyes, counted to ten, and took a deep
breath. No white boys were worth it – not in this
world, or
any other. He started back on the path he was walking when a
uniform was thrown down on the street in front of him. It was
black with gold lighting on it. He peered upwards and saw Old
Man
Grayson holding a domino mask between his two index fingers.
“You used to be quite the hero.”
“I'm a teacher, Grayson, I never was a hero of any
kind.”
“You sound like a bitter old man, Pierce – the loss
of your
daughter, and Liz still eating at you?”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” said Jefferson as he
fired an
energy charge at Old Man Grayson. Despite Grayson's age, he
flew
through the air like a man decades younger. And landed behind
Jefferson.
Jefferson spun around quickly, but Old Man Grayson took hold of his
wrist, and applied pressure that didn't seem possible for his advanced
age.
“No more energy volts, let's just talk.”
Jefferson lowered his eyes, and then nodded. Old Man Grayson
waited just a moment before he let go, and the two took to the roof,
Old Man Grayson carrying Jefferson up there. Once they found
a
spot to sit down. Jefferson looked at his former teammate,
and
friend.
“So, what is it you wanna talk about?” he asked,
with a
harsh tone.
“I need Ivy.”
“You’re nuts,” said Jefferson.
“Ivy died
when the virus broke out.”
Old Man Grayson stared at Jefferson, and gave a slow shake of his
head. He tapped his forehead.
“That's what he,” Old Man Grayson pointed to the
sky,
“wants us to think.”
“J'onn?” said Jefferson, a skeptical look on his
face. “You really have gone crazy.”
Old Man Grayson stood up, and cracked his knuckles.
“You
remember the war on Earth 2, the chaos that ensued?”
“Dimly, it's all a blur.”
Old Man Grayson leaned forward. “J'onn was killed,
and
replaced by Proteus.”
“How?” said Jefferson, as he held out his hands to
his
sides. “We would have known!”
“Would we?”
“No, I-I suppose not...”
Old Man Grayson nodded his head.
“What does this have to do with anything?” asked
Jefferson
with a brooding look on his face.
“You honestly think Ivy could make a global level
virus?”
Jefferson palmed his face. “So, he helped
her...”
“Until Ra's messed things up because he didn't know what was
truly going on.”
Jefferson stood up, and placed his hands in his pockets.
“What do
you want from me?”
“I need Black Lightning to help bust Ivy out of the prison
Proteus has her contained in.”
“We can't take on Proteus ourselves.”
“We'll have back-up,” said Old Man Grayson with a
wink. A wink that unnerved Jefferson. To
be Continued in Nightwing Annual #2... NEVERMORE:
The credit to which works influenced this story goes to Mark Millar's Old
Man Logan,
Frank Miller's Dark
Knight Returns and All-Star
Batman and Robin, Brian K.
Vaughan’s Y The
Last Man,
and Brian Michael Bendis' Secret
Invasion.
