JLU 2001 Fanfiction - Aftermath #01

Before...

   Zauriel stared at the cleaved halves of the tarnished, golden helmet. They were whole for the most part, dented and scarred, true, but cleanly cut and exorcised. The presence was gone, left for the worlds away, the Realms Beyond leaving only the shell, the empty husk that had been.

    Zauriel raised his sword, his trustworthy blade and saw the dark fires licking the clean edge. Nabu was dead, moved on at least, but the horror remained. Above the Rift still rippled and surged. Below the voices continued to cry out.

    The Spectre stared as well, but not at the shell. Zauriel was the object of his affection, the harbinger and bearer, old and new.

    Do not do this. There is no need. It can end here and now…

    The woman stood at his side, uncomprehending, but the Spectre knew and continued to stare, eyes blazing with Vengeance.

    “My time is nigh,” the Angel said, raising his sword high. Black fire sparked, a gout of flame shooting high into the heavens, vanishing into the void.

    “It is done.”

    The Spectre nodded as the Angel took wing, watching as he dwindled, following the blaze, gone. He turned to the woman-

    Valentina Vostok reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing the chalky skin. Oddly, the spirit flinched, backed away-

    It is over…

    The Spectre cast his gaze skyward, his face grim. He seemed sad-

    And just begun…

    He turned to the woman, his body paling, blowing on the breeze, the cosmic winds-

    Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel.

    The words echoed even as his image faded from sight and Valentina Vostok dropped to her knees and cried…

Zauriel

JLU

Aftermath

CONTENTS:

1.   Contemplation- starring Metron and Darkseid by Curt Fernlund
2.   Messages 1- starring Flash and Donna Troy by Jae Lizhini
3.   Revenge- starring Lex Luthor and Deathstroke by Curt Fernlund
4.   Messages 2- starring Flash and Green Arrow by Jae Lizhini
5.   Epilogue- starring Aquaman by Mark Anderson
6.   Confusion- starring L.E.G.I.O.N. by Curt Fernlund
7.   Understanding- starring the New Gods by Curt Fernlund
8.   Peace- starring Hank Henshaw by Curt Fernlund
9.   Priorities- starring Wonder Woman by Matt Hrubey
10. Visitations- starring Batman and Donna Troy by Steve Crosby
11. Rebirth- starring Ganthet, Shazam, and Highfather by Curt
Fernlund
12. Warriors- starring John Stewart and Guy Gardner by Curt
Fernlund
13. Passings- starring Fastback, the Black Racer and Darkseid by
      Curt Fernlund

AFTERMATH: #1-
December, Year 3
by Various

Metron	Darkseid	Aquaman	Argent	Flash	Batman
Cyborg Superman	Donna Troy	Starfire	Orion	Wonder Woman	Spectre

1. Contemplation

The WALL

There are worlds within worlds, and without as well it is said.

There are other worlds, else-worlds where the natural laws of reality itself are severed and broken; twisted beyond the norm. There are dimensions where the eternal question of ‘what if’ holds sway, lands within the Omniverse where anything is possible. This I know.

I have visited many in my eternal quest for knowledge, stepping upon the very soil where gods have trodden and the ancient ways of existence have taken form. In my endless journey I have seen the light of reason as well as the great darkness, yet I have never found the answers I seek. Knowledge is elusive, for no matter where my travels take me, there is always more beyond. One more veil to pierce, another void to gap and my question forever goes unanswered…

Why?

And thus, my travels have brought me here again, full circle. I stare at the WALL, that barrier at the edge, the very end of all that holds back those forces of primal Creation, the seeds of Chaos. Beyond lies the secret of existence- of this I am certain- that very spark, which Kronus saw that brought about all there is and was, and will be. The very answers I seek are there, so close but forever out of reach. Or so it would seem.

There have been beings that have breached the WALL. The very evidence of their attempts exists, great gaping wounds in that unknown fabric, which binds those that have failed seemingly forever. These were in most the Promethium Gods: beings of vast power and greater knowledge, those entities who lived and perhaps ruled before. The WALL in all of its infinity is littered by their remains, their very being interlaced with the brick and mortar laid by HIS own hand at the dawn of all. Yet some apparently have escaped.

I stare at these wounds, five in all. I ponder who might have filled the breaches now vacant, watching as the dark creatures born of the harsh reality there on the edge scurry to and fro, their purpose at last truly clear. They are custodians it would appear, their strange and alien bodies mutated over the eons of evolution there on that harsh land, becoming predators as well as scavengers in their bleak existence. They have lived on the offal and detriment of those failed explorers, seekers of knowledge as myself who came too close, perhaps having found those elusive answers now in death. Even now I watch as the predators seek to repair their vast home, though whether by design or coincidence I am uncertain. They move as a hive, a collective running on instinct perhaps or inbred and ancient mode of survival. Do they sense the calamity just past that has disrupted their day to day lives? Mayhap even, as I, they perceive the threat still looming on the horizon.

I shift my gaze towards that last horrible rent in the very fabric of space. That it is so close to the WALL cannot be coincidence of course. The machinations of far more intricate minds than my own have set events most dire in progress long ago. Greater beings play at dice with the cosmos, the fate of all reality as the stakes. The endless cycle of the universe is again at threat, the key trapped within the idle thoughts of those who would be God.

One such is there, beyond almost. I can see him, a vague and violet shade trapped betwixt the energies of Chaos and Order, of matter and anti-matter. His movements are minute, shifting on the storm as he resides by his own will and the treachery of another, darker shadow. His stature is massive, rivaling those great giants locked within the WALL and I cannot help but wonder if perhaps his own prison is some prequel of sorts, a minor brushstroke in the Grand Design?

But no. His imprisonment there between the dimensions was but a stepping stone in another’s dark scheme and the after effect of that great conflict just passed. Two mighty teams did struggle across the void when the dimensions threatened to clash, their own differences set aside to save all. As that crisis swept across the cosmos threatening to wipe away reality those warriors joined forces to set things right once again. But even their triumph and tragedy was but a part of the whole as other forces were drawn to the fight. Magicians and Magi, deities from beyond and within as well, those above us all that hold sway the very laws of nature that bind us and guide us. And others…

“Postulating again, traveler? Some things it seems never do change.”

I turn at the rough sounding voice that I know so well, yet have never heard prior. He stands beside me, his eyes aglow in the shadows of his rock-hewn visage, his gaze paralleling my own. His very essence exudes the darkness, his stony form swathed in shadow and blight, his stance sure and determined. He smiles, shifting his gaze to me.

“The Devourer seems satisfied, oh seeker of knowledge, yet I sense confusion on your part. More so than usual, I amend. What troubles you, Metron?”

I shift position in my Mobius Chair, contemplating this creature standing before me. He is so like the one I know so well, and yet so different. There is an evil about him that I have rarely experienced, a malicious tinge that reminds me of those earlier times. And there is power about him, barely contained and seething for release.

“Your very presence, Dark Lord,” I say as I cast my gaze skyward once more to where the Rift crackles and churns. “And his. There is much here to observe and to contemplate. Where Chaos is concerned, confusion generally abounds. Such is the will and the way.” The ruler of Apokolips chuckled, his laugh like rolling thunder on the growing storm.

“As always Metron, you seek to pierce the veils far too deeply. You should simply- how do the Earthers say it- observe the forest rather than the trees? That which you seek is before you. You need merely reach out and take it, lest it be swept from your grasp again as a leaf in the wind.”

“You speak in riddles, Darkseid. I have seen what has occurred, your manipulations at the expense of others. You have used one crisis to create another of your own design. That much is evident, but to what end?”

“You are so close,” he said, mocking me. “How agonizing for one such as yourself, forever seeking the unattainable, ever on the cusp of knowledge yet eternally denied by your limited means.” Darkseid turned, gesturing at the WALL, rather one of the gaping rents within. That one I knew, and what had been there not so long ago. “Your answers lie there, Metron. Do you have the courage though to take that final step towards destiny?”

I stared at the almost comical hole in the WALL, a vacant and all too familiar outline. Oddly I felt sensations long suppressed within me; emotions? There was a craving, a hunger as great as what must overcome the Devourer of Worlds, he from beyond that lies sated there within sight. Can I finally know peace? Do I dare?

“You hesitate, ‘New’ godling. Why? Does courage elude you? Is it cowardice overshadowing conviction, or is it perhaps that you DO know that the true answer has always been in my own hand?”

He held out his prize then for me to see and I knew then that it was indeed emotion, which had overwhelmed me. I gasped at the purity of that thing he held: the perfection in its crystalline structure, such a fragile thing to contain the barest whisper of HIS WORD. Chaos sparkled within, roiling in all its majesty, spiraling about that glow that could only be what Kronus saw that day and drove him mad. I licked my suddenly dry lips and felt a trickle of perspiration on my brow. Darkseid laughed.

“Lust ill becomes you, Metron. Lest temptation overcome you, I take my leave then as there are others I must reacquaint myself with before the final gambit may be played out. However, I shall paraphrase the Earthers once again and ask that you remember in the days to come that moment when opportunity came knocking at your door and you chose not to respond.”

He continued to laugh as he faded away, that darker shade of the Lord of Apokolips that I once knew so well, or so I thought. And just for a moment I saw HER, and emotion swelled once more. She was beautiful, an endless paragon of the concept, cold and serene, a lighter shade of those I know and will recall one day. A smile played on her full lips as she glanced at me then faded as well.

The Devourer shrugged, and I saw the creatures as they scurried about their task, inadvertently sealing my fate as they repaired the devastation of their home. My way was clear, and those final mysteries remained trapped beyond, bricked away forever as was the jester. My destiny again out of reach, my life goes on.

The quest continues…

2. Messages 1

Aardvark’s Odd Ark Clothing
Pasadena, CA

    They always said, when you’re stressed out, find your roots. For Donna Troy it definitely wasn’t this. Standing posed over a rack of vintage clothes in the heart of Television City USA. Her slender fingers navigating over the hangers of satin gowns, which reminded her of the Cary Grant Film Festival she was missing. Only because Starfire saw the need to drag her out of the apartment, to go out clothes shopping with the girls.

    THE GIRLS. Aside from Kori, these people were not THE GIRLS. Not the girls she remembered. But times change, she was a walking example of how things never remain the same. She was trained to be a great warrior from the time she was created then she lost it all, for a chance to have a normal life-- for her son to have a normal life. Now she was in a wreck, because her best friend and boyfriend had gone missing for a little while. They were however in the Fucking League. Batman and Superman had their backs. How could she be worried?

    But she was. She couldn’t help it. She kept going back and wondering, what if she still had her powers, what if she never gave up her powers.   So many ifs, that were beyond her power. She was Donna Troy now. No more, no less.

    “Hey, what do you think of this?” Toni Montelli yelled in her East Village accent. A voice that caused Starfire, Jesse Quick, Donna Troy as well as six other shoppers to spring their heads up, and veer their gazes to Toni’s vicinity. Her red painted lips, which wore a gigantic smile; contrasted heavily across her porcelain white flesh. In her hands however showed of the magnificent prize--A Marquis brand, three piece suit. Waves of admiration swelled from eye to eye as the cotton slacks waved like the flag of a conquering nation.

    “You always have all the luck, Toni.” Starfire smiled, her emerald eyes narrowing just slightly, to hide her expression of jealously. This after all was supposed to be fun. Not to mention as anyone could see, with the way she was wearing the powder pink jumpsuit, Starfire didn’t need expertly cut clothing to show off her hourglass physique. Her head did however, finally turn to Donna, her own bright red ringlets sliding across the smooth Tamaranian skin. Star offered a bright smile to her long time friend. Donna didn’t return that same smile. Instead she looked like a deer caught in headlights. “What do you think Donna? We could probably bum rush her.”

    It was strange for Donna to even be in such a position, having Kori pick her up again. Usually it was the other way around. Donna Troy was the big sister of the Titans after all. She was the rock in which everyone else leaned on. Funny now that she stood reminiscing about the AMC film festival and the half a carton of Vanilla Häagen-Dazs, that was waiting in her freezer. “I think maybe we should just let her have it.” Donna let a fake smile rush across her mouth. “I mean she does need all the help she can get.”

    Toni smiled in turn to the two women who stood on either side of her. “Well we mere mortals can’t much compete with goddesses and alien princesses, eh Jesse.”

    The speedster suddenly looked away from the women. She could feel as her heart began to beat erratically. The speed formula was already at the tip of her tongue. “Umm yeah,” Jesse spoke, her eyes still plastered at the bay windows, which lay to the large east walls, exposing the streets of west Pasadena. She could have sworn she saw a blur out of the corner of her eye. Or had that litter been lifted from a sudden gust of wind.

    It was only after a few moments she relaxed; reminding herself that it could have easily been mental completion. There was no reason for a speedster to be here, and most speedsters didn’t travel alone if they wanted to pick a fight with The Titans.

    “Are you okay, Jesse?” Donna asked. Her face rose up to the blond speedster.

    “Must just be stress from work,” she spoke, her head looking back towards the rack of clothing. “I could have sworn I saw something just now… a red blur.”

    “We’re all feeling a little apprehensive, Jesse. Our friends and loved ones are out there somewhere. Even Dick, after the shit he went through. He’s still worried sick.”

    “I just hope that he’s alright,” Jesse said, her shoulders falling limp.

    “I’m fine, Jesse.” Wally West’s voice spoke from behind her. Both Donna and Jesse did a double take, as the Flash materialized in front of them. Around the two women, posters tore from the walls and clothing rocked on the metallic racks, and air funneled across them; well groomed hair, suddenly became a mess as it was forced against their shoulders and necks.

    “W-Wally,” Donna spoke first. Her eyes shimmered in a glaze. Jesse repeated his name as well not a split second after Donna had. Both girls however had the same expressions on their faces.

    The Flash stood silent a moment, his deep red costume spat lines of dark grime across his shoulders and legs. The spandex was torn near the left elbow and across his chest; his face was unshaven where it exposed from under the cowl. However it was the tearing blue eyes that Donna saw, which turned her from glad to see her childhood friend, to terrified as to what he wanted to say.

    “Donna… I uhh.” The Flash took a step forward, his movement slow and calculated. His hands shook as he brought them to clasp across Donna’s broad shoulders. “Donna… this is hard.”
The former Wonder Girl looked at her life long friend. Her eyes narrowed and her lips turned into a frown. Her deep eyes looked into the Flash’s blue ones. Both of them dropped tears as they searched the other’s face. “Just say it Wally, it’s about Kyle I know. Is he in the hospital, dragged into a parallel universe... what?”

    “He’s dead Donna. He’s dead.”

    “Oh my.. By the heads of Cerberus,” Donna spoke, her voice graveled into barely understandable words. “Are you sure? I mean you guys are wrong a lot. You always get this stuff wrong.”

    “No.” The Flash bent his head down, tears continued to flow down his cheeks. “I saw it. There is no mistake. I wanted to tell you personally. I begged the others to let me to tell you. After all you’ve been through, it’s unfair.”

    “It is unfair,” Donna agreed, “But I knew it going into a relationship with a superhero.” She paused a moment, her neck rising as she sniffed her nose. “Have you told Connor?”

    Wally’s left gloved hand rose across her cheek to wipe away some tears from her eyes. “Green Arrow?” the Flash asked her. The confusion in his voice was apparent.

    “Yeah, he was pretty much Kyle’s best friend,” Donna spoke, her nose still being sniffled.

    “Do you know where he is?” the Flash asked. “After making 54 trips across Los Angeles area, I’d hate to do it across the bay area as well.” Wally’s characteristic smile returned as he asked.

    “Flyers took him to an Ashram in Nappa Valley. Far as I hear it’s not too hard to miss.”

    “Okay Donna. I’m on it. Call me later, okay?” His eyes slanted to Jesse. “You too, I need to hear how much trouble Bart caused while I was away.”

    Both the girls nodded at the red blur as the third Flash took off towards Nappa Valley. He figured it would not be as hard as it was to tell Donna. At least he hoped so.

    Donna tried to hold her head up high for as long as she could. She figured she kept the tears from spilling out a second time, until Wally had made it to Nappa Valley.

    ‘Course it’s doubtful that even Wally is that fast.

3.Revenge

Blackgate Prison
Metropolis

He glanced up to hear the dull echo of footfalls without, beyond the thick steel door on the cold gray stone. There were three by the sound: two guards, fat and lazy, loud in their tread and comfortable in their imagined position of authority, and another. The third walked lightly, and was heard only because he wished to be no doubt, all part of the display.

Lex Luthor stared at the cold metal of the impassable door, listening as the series of locks and bars were undone and removed. It was a time consuming task and not needed at all, at least in his case. He was hardly a Meta, and despite the conditions- and humiliation of his confinement, he had no wish to leave.

Yet.

Granted he had been incarcerated now for far longer than he would have first imagined. He had of course expected his own wealth and position of authority in Metropolis to ensure his speedy right to trial, should it come to that, and release. He had expected to be granted bail, despite the seeming severity of his apparently mad act. Lex Luthor was a powerful man in Metropolis after all. He was the premiere businessman of the greatest city on the face of the planet. He had built Metropolis, made it what it was. He was a damned philanthropist for God’s sake!

As such however, he had made enemies. And like the jackals that they were, forever snapping at his heels, as soon as he had stumbled they had pounced. Despite his best efforts over the years, trying to set up his power base while still appearing benevolent to the populace, he had crossed other men who, unfortunately held his life in his hands. At least for awhile.

There were the police first, mostly Sawyer’s lackeys, those that were not dedicated to the cause of Lex Luthor, nor in his employ in some fashion. They had not listened that first day, treating him like a common criminal, arresting him and throwing him- literally- into the prison population for booking to await arraignment.

There was the judge whom he had appeared before almost two full days later. Luthor had hardly looked his best for his appearance, his suit ripped and soiled, a curious swollen scar just beneath his left eye. Still, Luthor had his pride and he stood tall as his lawyer pleaded his case, awaiting his eventual and expected freedom. Her Honor Judge Jeanette Morgan however had not seen his pleaded case as clearly as he might have hoped. No bail, as though Lex Luthor was a flight risk. No special privileges, as though Lex Luthor were a common criminal. He was to be remanded to Blackgate until such a time as the date of his trial could be determined. He had stood there motionless, his face almost blank as the woman had explained to him the severity of trying to take another’s life, droning on in a matronly, condescending fashion for several minutes while he tried to think.

Finally he recalled. The woman’s son had been a victim of one of his lesser mergers, one of LexCorp’s subsidiaries which had swallowed a portion of Suicide Slum in the ‘Better Tomorrow Project’ of several years past. The boy had been crushed financially, along with a dozen others in Luthor’s maneuvering, and apparently the hag held a grudge. One might consider that a conflict of interest, but Luthor said nothing, confident in the way the system worked. His system.

He had been shipped to Blackgate on a bus, riding with others. Foul mouthed and smelling brutes and thugs, he ignored them. He had expected some convenience at the Prison, he had funded the newest wing after all, but like the others he was led through a line and issued toiletries and a gray uniform with his number labeled over the heart. He was issued a cell, and a bunkmate, thankfully a weasely little man named Barker that knew exactly who he was and when to keep silent.

And of course he had enemies in Blackgate.

Too, there were, if not friends, then at least allies. Perhaps lackeys was a better word. There was a hierarchy in the prison system at Blackgate, and in the community itself. On one hand was the warden, his men and staff, and on the other there were the prisoners. Lex Luthor was a man of thought as well as action, and he planned for every contingency no matter how remotely possible or obscure. The populace of course knew of his arrival, and there were those within the prison that were on in his employ in some capacity, despite their incarceration. There was a grapevine within the cold stone walls, and more often than not, news from Blackgate had bearing on the outside world. Luthor had become a part of that Grapevine even from his lofty perch atop LexCorp Towers, and now that he was on the inside nothing in that respect had changed. His lackeys within made it clear that he WAS special, despite those that had put him therein: the police, the judicial system…

And Kent.

Luthor clenched his fists, counting, calming. It would not do to seem agitated or eager in the presence of his expected visitor. He needed to keep his thoughts clear, his mind sharp. Still, the mere thought of the alien drove him to anger with a passion. He had not as yet discovered just how the Superman had tricked him. There were countless possibilities of course. Luthor had to grudgingly admit that the alien did have powers far beyond those of mortal men. It could have been his speed, or perhaps some form of ‘super-hypnosis’. The freak no doubt had powers that he had yet to display. It could have been as easily one of his friends. And that of course was the present factor that brought a smile to Lex Luthor’s lips.

The smile was slight as the door swung outward, in place more for the guards than for his visitor. Colan stepped in first, his dark uniform bulging from fat and muscle as well as he peered about the room where they had placed him for his visitation rights. Just what the guard expected to find, Luthor could not imagine. The room was small and sparsely furnished with just a wobbly wooden table and equally weak wooden chairs. There was one window facing the sea though too high to actually afford a view and that was barred and paned with wire-meshed glass, and locked shut as well. The walls of the room were stone and painted a drably pale green three quarters of the way up, where they became white. The ceiling was tiled and had once been white as well though years of cigarette smoke had dulled that to a sickly yellowish brown. There was one camera situated in the far corner presumably taking in a panoramic view that included the table and the doorway as well. Luthor had asked that that be turned off, and of course it had.

“You got ten minutes, Luthor,” Colan said apparently satisfied that Luthor was not planning a prison break of some sort. Idiot. Luthor nodded as the fat man backed out of the room again and let his visitor enter.

He appeared a short man, though Luthor could see that was mainly due to the slight slumping of his shoulders and the old and ill-fitting suit that he wore. His hair was dark and slicked back with grease by the look and he wore a thick-lensed pair of horn-rimmed glasses, which drew attention from the false eye he wore beneath. That glass eye moved slightly slower than the other, which quickly and more efficiently took in the confines and furnishings of the room at a glance.

He stood there just inside the room, only moving when he heard the door finally slam shut behind him. He then shuffled forward and took the opposite seat from Luthor across the table unbidden. Luthor’s smile increased slightly.

“Luthor,” the man said, his voice slightly higher than expected as he withdrew a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, a cigarette from that, which he lit. He offered one to Luthor, though he declined, watching as the man placed the pack just so in the center of the table and looked about for an ashtray.

“We won’t be disturbed, or monitored, I assure you,” Luthor said.

“I know,” the man answered with a slight smirk of his own, tapping the table near his cigarette pack. “Shall we get down to business? Ten minutes can be a lifetime, but fleeting all too often.”

“Agreed. My life changed rather abruptly in less time than that, as you can see.” Luthor gestured at his surroundings expansively, watching as the other man nodded.

“I’ve seen worse. Just what is it you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Luthor said. “the machinations for my eventual release have already been set in motion. It will take time, but I have faith in my abilities and resources.”

“Those the same resources that put you here in the first place? Not too smart trying to kill Kent on national television in a roomful of reporters. That why you called me here? You want me to finish what you couldn’t?”

Luthor scowled, counting again. The man was goading him, testing him perhaps? The arrogance!

“No. Lex Luthor finishes what he starts, rest assured. This is a minor setback at best. Lex Luthor has never been beaten, so long as he lives.” He eased back in his chair, his simple mental exercises doing the work of calming him again. “No, I will deal with Kent in my own way and in my own time.”

“Then why am I here, Luthor? Time is money after all. A fact I’m sure you hold close to heart.”

“Of course.” Luthor smiled, crossing his legs and trying to assume a casual air. He knew the man across the table was reading his every movement, his breathing and body language, the flush of his skin, possibly the beat of his heart. His senses were allegedly far superior to a normal man’s, and his brainpower far more advanced. He supposedly utilized almost 99% of his brain’s full potential, that giving him an edge both mentally and physically. That made him one of the most lethal and dangerous men alive. He was almost in a league with Luthor himself. Almost. His great mind had not interpreted Luthor’s scheme.

“No, I do not wish for you to confront Mister Kent, nor even his family, his lovely wife.” Luthor leaned forward placing his elbows on the table as he considered the man across from him. He glanced at the cigarette, untouched and dripping a long line of ash. They had time. Time to kill.

“Kent does however have friends. Let me tell you a story, Mister Wilson, perhaps share some information that has recently come into my possession. I think you will find it interesting indeed.”

To be continued in JLA # 35…

4.Messages 2

The Ashram
Nappa Valley, CA

    Wally West felt bad when he changed his vibrational pattern to get past the large oak door that stood between Nappa Valley and the Garden of Enlightenment. Of course, the bald, stout man standing in what appeared to be little more than a white sheet across his body paid him no mind as the speedster blurred past him, kicking grass and gravel in a frenzy as he looked for his target-- the son of Oliver Queen, the boy a little younger than he, who had taken up the mantle of the Green Arrow.

    According to what the Flash knew, Connor Hawke was easy to pick out in a crowd. From what he’d dug up, he was a walking melting pot-- half Caucasian, one-fourth African and one-fourth Chinese. Of course, it was still quite hard to tell the monks and children from one another as he zoomed through the halls of the religious center.

    However on the speedster’s thirteenth trek across the Ashram, he saw an arm veer in front of him. The Flash’s blue eyes widened as he came around the corner and entered the small mediation room. The arm was defiantly a cappuccino color. The speedster ducked just in time to miss the impact from the arm, knowing that at such high velocity it would have done more damage to the arm than it would to him… The Speed Force worked in mysterious ways.

    “I assume you are looking for me,” the owner of the arm spoke, his voice barely approaching the battered acoustics of the beige and candle lit room. His bare feet slapped across the cold rough stone as he walked from his prayer mat.

    The Flash had already slowed down to a near stop as he reached the opposing wall of the room. His cowl covered head turned to meet the gaze of the speaker. The piercing green eyes gave him away at the get go, but the vivid blond hair also put the Queen stamp on his person. “You are Connor Hawke, then?” the Flash asked, careful not to call him the Green Arrow. He wasn’t sure how much like his father the newest mantle bearer was, but he wished to be on the safe side.

    “Yeah.” The archer said, his burgundy robe covered body turning fully, just as the Flash stood up to face him. “And you are the Flash, of course.”

    “Guilty as charged.” Wally smiled dimly. “Um I wish I was here under less dire circumstances though, but Donna wanted me to give you some news.”

    “I figured it wasn’t too severe, or you would have been pin pointed to my exact location.”

    “Actually we tried to find your exact location, but you seemingly disappeared. But that doesn’t really matter.” The Flash stepped closer. Connor could see the red veins in the man’s eyes as he neared him. “Kyle was killed in action in an unknown universe.”

    “Damn…” Connor spoke lowering his head a little. The short clipped hair he was wearing bounced the yellowish light from the candles across his scalp. “How… I mean how did it happen? When did it happen? I’ve been out of the loop, as there are no TVs or radios here.”

    “Umm I don’t know about time, as it was kind of strange where we were. But it feels like it was just a few hours ago.” The Flash bent his head a little. “As to your other question… he was over powered. There was nothing we could have…”

    “Over powered, with the ring?” Connor shook his head.

    The Flash stayed quiet, knowing that he himself could have stopped it. The Nefaria guy had access to the Speed Force, so maybe he could have done something... They were brothers in arms after all.

    “He was your teammate. You all are the JLA!”

    “Connor, look, I’m sorry… I…” and before the Speedster finished his words he left in a red blur. Leaving Connor Hawke alone once again in the mediation room.

    “Death is only a cycle. Just a process,” Connor spoke in a shaking voice. “Just a process...”

5.Epilogue:

Aquaman savored the feeling. The waters of his kingdom sluiced past him as he swam toward Atlantis. He had had the teleporter deposit him in one of Batman’s tubes near the Gotham waterfront.

As he swam along, he reached down and ran the fingers of his good hand over the stump. The prosthetic had burned away in the nuclear fires of the ERG being when Aquaman had used the hook to puncture the energy man’s containment suit while trying to save Firestorm.

He smiled. The boy had tried valiantly to sacrifice himself to allow Aquaman and Zatanna to escape from the nuclear being, ERG. He rubbed the stump. “Not like it’s the first hand I’ve lost,” he said.

Now, he swam through the cool North Atlantic nearing the edge of the continental shelf. His prosthesis was gone and his skin was sore and three tones darker. The blasts of anti-energy, the attacks of the female Human Torch, and lack of water over the last few days had played havoc with his body’s systems.

He and the JLA were gone for over two weeks. With the vote on the new government less than two weeks away, he wanted to get home and see what he needed to do. There was still the matter of the Shark to deal with as well.

"Borgeran's Atoll, coming up," he thought. He always swam past Borgeran's on his way from Metropolis or Gotham to Poseidonis. This reef was the furthest north in this part of the Atlantic and played host to a wide variety of sea life.

He slowed. Something was wrong. Where there should have been the voices of many fish, predator and prey, there was only a void. He picked up brief pockets of fish language, but not the teeming metropolis that should have been there.

He circled. The pieces of the reef littered the ocean in all directions. They were shattered over a half-mile of sea floor.

As he glanced about, he noticed that the tidal patterns were off. The waves in this region were coming from the wrong direction. “This is probably playing hell with the coastal areas of the continents,” he thought.

Closing his eyes, he broadcast his aquatic telepathy out into the local area, calling his subjects to him.

A small Blue Tang answered him as a cloud of his kin rose from one of the coral chunks below. The small fish swarmed up for a moment and, then, settled back over their broken coral home. A distant predator could easily mistake them for one large creature instead of a cloud of smaller ones. One of the small black, blue, and yellow fish stood free from the cloud of his kind and rose to look Aquaman over. "Lord Orin, it is good to speak to you," his loyal little subject said.

"What happened here?" Orin asked.

The fish turned a slow circle. "Big house fell down in a wave of power. Thunder. Flash of light. BOOM!" The little fish shuddered as it acted out what it saw. "Then, strong currents pulling everything into a wall of white...then it was gone, the big house was scattered, and lots of our fish friends were gone with it BOOM!"

"An anti-matter rift formed here," Orin said slowly looking at the devastation and the patterns the currents had cut in the sandy floor of the sea. A dawning fear in his mind, he thanked the fish and struck out for Poseidonis.

"How many more formed under the sea?" He whispered rhetorically as he accelerated to his full speed.

Twenty minutes further into his trip, he slowed as he felt a shift in the sea. An odd feeling washed over him. Looking about, he realized that he was only a few miles from the valley where Thierna Na Oge lay hidden.

Flipping about, he raced toward the hidden city of mystics.

“I’ll just take a look,” he thought.

The valley’s shield wall was shattered. Huge chunks of limestone and reef lay scattered everywhere. Aquaman slowed as he floated out over the city.

A huge gaping crater filled the space where Thierna Na Oge had once been. Gray and black burned places decorated the walls of the valley where anti-matter lighting had struck the sea floor.

“The whole city!” he whispered awed. “I wonder if it went through the rift or if it was destroyed by it.”

He drifted down to the floor of the valley. He touched the substrata below where the city had once stood. “Fused,” he said, “almost glass-like.”

He stood slowly, shaking his head. A grim look lit his features.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out into the Clear. He probed, but couldn’t find access to the semi-mystical place that connected all life. Just at the edge of his senses, he could feel it, but it was empty and he couldn’t bring it into focus.

Opening his eyes, he kicked his legs rising toward the surface. Breaching into the sky, he scanned the horizon. The red skies were gone, as he knew they were. The sea surface looked calm. However, below chaos had torn at the heart of Atlantis again. The city-state of Thierna Na Oge was gone.

“Atlantis what has happened to you in my absence,” he said as he set his course toward Poseidonis.

One ridge sat between him and Poseidonis.

One ridge of rock between him and home.

Thoughts of Thierna Na Oge played in his mind. “If it’s still there,” he thought before shaking that grimness away.

He crested the ridge and swam toward the city that was his destiny.

To be continued in Aquaman…

6.Confusion

Cairn
L.E.G.I.O.N. HQ

“Odd…”

“I know ya are, poser, but what am I?”

Garryn Bek did not even bother to answer Lobo as he stared curiously at the computer monitors, trying to fathom the readings that were flying across the screen. He knew basically what he was looking at, the technical readouts were well labeled, but just what the various scrolls of jargon could possibly mean in unison was beyond him. Not for the first time he wished that Vril Dox were there to handle his damnable machines.

The Long Range Sensors had apparently picked up a beacon emission of some type, but it was of a kind that they had yet to encounter in the history of L.E.G.I.O.N., and one apparently that Dox’s Twelfth Level genius had not planned for. The data coming in showed a myriad of sensory activity, the beacon being broadcast on a wide array that spanned the entire spectrum of light far beyond even the noted and logged degrees. Too, there was sound involved, though the technology and speed of transmission put it closer to telepathic than any known form of radio or even FTL. And beyond, there were things within the beacon that did not even register on any monitor except as undefined anomaly.

Even stranger was that the beacon had originated on or near Earth, light years distant, and was aimed for someplace deep into the heart of the universe, the Celestial Cluster itself. There were things there better left alone if the tales were true. According to Lobo at any rate.

Garryn Bek scratched his head and sighed. It was all beyond him. Maybe he should call Comet, since the beacon came from Earth, his home planet. Maybe he would have some idea. Why was Earth always such a pain in the-

“Magic.”

Bek yelped, jumping as Lydea Mallor stepped silently to his side, pointing at the monitor screen. As Darkstar she had been an opinionated but valuable member of L.E.G.I.O.N. for years now. She was arrogant though, and she and Garryn Bek had never really seen eye to eye.

“Magic?” he asked, looking at the wide bar of yellow stretching through one of the lesser windows on the larger screen. She was pointing to one of the anomalies.

“The people of Talok VIII are well versed and mired in their history and theology and all things involved therein, Garryn Bek. Religious zealots, actually, and deeply rooted in the accompanying mysticism. Believe me, I know magic when I see it. That’s magic,” she said, her long, black fingernail clicking the screen.

“Okay,” Bek acknowledged, “that’s another piece of the puzzle. But what about the rest?” He glanced at Darkstar, hoping that she might have more insight but the beautiful blue-skinned woman simply shrugged.

“Fish.”

“Gah!”

Bek spun about to find Lobo towering over him on his other side. The white-skinned sole-survivor of Czarnia had always scared Garryn Bek just a little bit. Not simply because the intergalactic bounty hunter had threatened on more than one occasion to rip Bek’s entrails out through his nose, but because he was simply insane. Bek licked his lips as Lobo sneered, his dark eyes flicking to the monitor.

“W-what do you mean, ‘fish’?”

“Just what I said, feeb. Pay attention. That one there,” Lobo said, pointing to another window on the screen. “That’s fish talk. My dolphins use that frequency.”

“Fish talk?”

“You got a problem with that, Bek?”

“Not at all, no…”

Garryn Bek typed into the keyboard, adjusting the screens with the new information that his teammates had given him. A few of the smaller windows merged and winked out, but there were still many that read as anomaly. He was only a bit less clueless when a new voice caused him to jump again.

“Get away from there, Bek.”

All three turned at the sound of the familiar voice, though it had been some time since they had last heard it. Vril Dox II had founded L.E.G.I.O.N., and R.E.B.E.L.S. when his malevolent son Lyrl had taken the former over for his own grand schemes. They had dealt with that, and Dox the elder had retired after reestablishing L.E.G.I.O.N. to care for his forcibly retarded (at least by Coluan standards) son. He strode purposefully forward, stepping into position before the console with a scowl on his face, his fingers flying over the multi-dimensional keypad.

“You lost the manual, didn’t you Bek?” Dox said, not looking up as he adjusted the display into something a bit more cohesive.

“It’s not lost,” Bek said, puffing out his chest until he heard Darkstar sigh. “It’s just in safe keeping… somewhere…”

Dox shook his head and stood upright, watching as the displays scrolled by at a speed too fast for the others to follow. He winced just a bit but did not turn as Lobo’s hand clapped onto his shoulder.

“Heya, Dox. How’s the baby?”

“Remove your hand, Lobo. My son is well, so long as he is away from the likes of you.”

“Whatta card,” Lobo said with a chuckle as he sucked his cigar back to life. “Ya here ta save the day or what?”

“That remains to be seen,” Dox answered, occasionally pressing a key on the console or flipping a switch. “If Bek has not irreparably damaged my computers, then perhaps.”

“Why are you here, Dox?” Darkstar asked, her voice cold as ice. “I thought, happily, that we were done with you.”

“Likewise, Lydea. Unfortunately current circumstance has forced me out of retirement. My own personal sensor array keyed into this beacon yesterday, and I have to admit that it has been confounding my best efforts to interpret ever since. I had hoped that I might be able to expand my translations through the computer base here, but I see Bek has purged a few key programs.” Dox gave Garryn Bek an icy stare, then leaned into the console again.

“I have determined that it is not a distress signal. It seems more a ‘wake-up’ call, but to whom and for what purpose I have yet to discern. It does cover a myriad array of levels however, which is the main reason that it caught my interest.”

“How long until you can translate? Is it threatening? It did come from Earth, right?”

Dox shook his head. “Undetermined until I transmit the files from my own network. I do not know. Not quite.”

“What?”

“Shut up, Bek.”

Vril Dox II stood straight, watching as a long, thin bar appeared at the bottom of the screen, a tiny bit of blue eating away at the much longer green. He looked to Darkstar still standing at his side, then to Lobo who had returned to his chair across the room, watching some vid feed on a smaller monitor. He then stared at Garryn Bek.

“Where is Captain Comet? Please tell me he’s still leading this team.”

“He’s in the capitol,” Bek said with a frown. “There was a workers strike at the foundries and he…” Dox raised his hand to stop Bek’s explanation.

“I don’t care. Call him. It will take some time for my system to collate with yours and to correct the damage you’ve done. I suggest however that you all act on this immediately. I shall coordinate activities for the interim. I suggest two teams.”

“Now hold on, Dox.”

Vril Dox ignored Lydea Mallor’s outburst, having already figured her attitude into the equation. “The first team consisting of Comet, Stealth, Phase and Lobo should head to the source on or near Earth. The second team, led by Darkstar, should travel to the ultimate destination, and should include Strata, Garv, Telepath and Lady Quark.”

“It’ll take months to get to the Cluster, Dox,” Lydea Mallor said giving him an icy glare that he casually returned.

“Then you will have a chance to bond. Understand, woman, that the vast array of sensory data that I’ve interpreted already is phenomenal, and the very fact that it all interacts as it does is, thus far beyond the ability of my 12th Level Intellect to fully comprehend. Whatever sent that beacon is in touch with vast power, and I can only imagine what it might be calling. It must be related to the recent Anti-Matter storms, but how I have yet to determine. We need to find out.”

“All right,” Darkstar finally said with a sigh of defeat. She knew that Vril Dox was an arrogant and elitist ass, but he was also usually right. “I’ll gather my team.”

“Good. Lobo, I suggest you find Comet and do the same.”

“Yeah, yeah. Soon as Star Trek’s over. That Spock kills me.”

“Now, Lobo.”

Garryn Bek saw Lobo tense, expecting a scene of outrage and broken audio-visual equipment, but the big Czarnian simply, finally grumbled and stomped out of the room in a huff. Whatever secret scandal Dox held over Lobo, it still seemed effective.

“What about me, Dox?” Garryn Bek asked, imagining the worst. “What should I do?”

Vril Dox II did not even look at him as he leaned into the console again, tapping the screen as though to get the download bar moving faster.

“Go stand in the corner, Bek, and try not to destroy anything else.”

To be continued in Dark Genesis…

7.Understanding

Apokolips

“Master! Master!”

Desaad grumbled, his face twisting into a scowl at the sound of the creature’s grating voice. He had ordered that he should not be disturbed, but then the Para Demons were little more than mindless fodder and drudges and he should have known better that his peace would not last long.

He turned back, peering through the black lenses of his molecular goggles at the freakish thing as it came buzzing closer like some great insect. He was only slightly abated to see the beast’s sudden fear as its already wide eyes bulged to see his anger at the interruption.

“What!” he spat, his voice sharp as any of the tools lain out on his surgical tray. The Para Demon hesitated to hear the ire in his voice and with good reason. It was only a whim and the import of his message that kept the animal from the examination table himself. There were always experiments that could be performed on the Demons. They were multiplying aplenty of late.

“Forgive this lowly one, master, but I have a message.” The creature dropped to its knees, groveling and slavering at the ground before Desaad- and well he should. Was Desaad not Lord Darkseid’s most favored, HIS personal torturer and inquisitioner? Was Desaad now not the most dangerous man on all of Apokolips?

“Relay your message, mendicant, and pray to our Lord that it is worthy of Desaad’s precious time!”

“It- it is Lord Orion, master,” the Para Demon whimpered, actually quivering there on his knees fearing the worst. “He demands your presence.”

“Hrrmmn…”

Desaad grumbled, sneering as he contemplated taking out his frustrations on the Para Demon. He was busy, and the last thing that he needed was a forced audience with the usurper whelp of Darkseid. Only the Dark Lord himself might know what the warrior prince now lordling of all Apokolips might want now. Nothing important no doubt. Some new law or rule probably, or perhaps a play day upon New Genesis.

Desaad snorted, shaking his head as he removed his thick gloves, the belt and vest that held his many finer instruments. He dropped the weapons of his trade on a smaller table near the examination table, sighing as he gave a final long glance at the bit of flesh splayed there on. He had so hoped to finally discover just how the bit of flesh had remained ‘living’ all these months since it had been recovered from the remains of Coast City. It was a mystery, and Desaad did love a good mystery, especially one that boggled his necromantic skills.

Still, the fleshy chunk had not gone anywhere yet, and a few more moments would not make a difference. He would go lick a bit of boot, assuage the ‘high and mighty’ ruler of Apokolips and then come back and continue his work.

“Flagellate yourself creature, until I return. Ponder the fallacy of interrupting the mighty Desaad.”

Desaad passed the Para Demon by, ignoring the creature's cries of agony as it began to inflict its body with damaging wounds. He could not imagine just what Orion might want, but he had learned early on that Darkseid’s bartered son usually wanted nothing at all. He was lost in his rule of Apokolips, and his reign had caused much confusion and travesty since the Mighty Darkseid had been lost to them all. Orion’s time on New Genesis had softened the boy to the pathetic plight of the New Gods, and worse the worms that crawled in the muck and mud of Earth. It was disgusting the way that he simpered and fawned over those lesser beings.

Desaad sighed again as he climbed the long spiral stairs from the dungeon. He realized someway through his journey that the creature had not said where Lord Orion was waiting, but Orion was a creature of habit, and simply to be annoying he always called to see the Lords of Apokolips in the most inopportune environs. Desaad trudged on, up and up knowing full well that Orion waited atop the highest parapet of the palace towers.

“Desaad you worthless scum,” he heard Orion growl as he neared the final landing. “You dare keep your lord and king waiting?” His voice was gruff and cold as always, his bearing proud, like his father in that, and he did not turn as Desaad shuffled into his presence.

“Forgive me, lord Orion,” Desaad whined, bowing with every step that he took. “The creature you sent to fetch me was lax and lazy, and I only just received your word. I ran every step, but my body is weak… fragile. Say the word and I shall flog the Para Demon for his-“

“Shut up you sniveling boot-licker!” Orion snapped. “I have no time or need of your hollow praise this day. Look!”

Desaad sneered, certain of course that Orion’s back was turned, his attention diverted, but still he followed the son of Darkseid’s indication. Desaad gasped.

There was a light. It was a beam of illumination flashing across the darkening sky roiling through the Chaos that forever surrounded and hid Apokolips from prying eyes. It was white and pure, almost seeming foul in the harsh surroundings, flashing from the nether regions and arching into the void. Desaad shuddered to stare at its magnificence, shivered as he knew it for what it was.

“Is that recognition I see in your eyes, torturer? Tell me what yon light is.”

Desaad looked to Orion, licking his lips as he hunkered, cowering before the current ruler of Apokolips. “I- I know not, lord Orion.”

Orion frowned, his scarred face scowling as he stared at Desaad, his gaze shifting momentarily to the other two of Darkseid’s lieutenants gathered there on the high balcony. Desaad saw the Baron Vunderbarr watching as the beam of light cut through the roiling skies. He seemed unperturbed in his red, starched uniform and jackboots, his monocle sparkling in reflection. Near him stood Granny Goodness, her Shock Rod in hand, trying to look proud. Desaad could see the fear and uncertainty in both however. He knew them well, after all these years. Vunderbarr was actually sweating, and dear, sweet Granny shifted from foot to foot with anxiety. And both for good reason as they both knew as well as he what the beacon meant.

“Then find out for me Desaad,” Orion said as he produced a Mother Box from his armor. “Use your foul machines and determine just what that is.” Orion held up the damnable Box, the incessant ‘pinging’ grating as he called forth the Astro Force. The machine that allowed him flight and power appeared at his whim, but Orion held the Mother Box high again as he stepped into the contraption of Darkseid’s creation.

“I shall journey to New Genesis and confer with Scott Free. Perhaps the SOURCE has left its mark on this matter…”

BOOOOOMMMM!

“If there are no answers there,” he yelled over the roar of the Boom Tube appearing in the sky before the balcony, “then I shall follow the beacon to its origins.” He turned to Desaad, his eyes crackling with pent up fury, such was his demeanor.

“You WILL have answers upon my return, worm, or suffer my wrath.”

“Of course my lord,” Desaad said, bowing low and granny and Vunderbarr followed suit.

“We live to serve, Lord Orion,” the Baron cooed.

“Yours is the way,” Granny said, her voice rough and masculine.

Orion said nothing more as he rose into the air on the power of the Astro Force and swiftly disappeared within the folds of the Boom Tube. The Tube would whisk him to the very shores of New Genesis in the space of a heartbeat where he would ‘confer’ with Scott Free- Mister Miracle and now the ruler in Highfather’s stead of the prudish land of the New Gods- New Genesis.

Desaad spat as the Tube slammed shut, the energies crackling then fading. He turned to his comrades. Vunderbarr was polishing his eyepiece, while Granny tried to seem aloof to it all. Pathetic…

“You both know what this means.”

“The old prophecies are sketchy at best, Desaad,” Vunderbarr said as he placed his monocle back to rest at his eye. “We cannot know that this is a sign. The Earth is always in a state of flux.”

“That’s right,” Granny Goodness added, her face hard now that Orion had left. “This could be some trick of the Kryptonian’s, or one of his little friends. It could be coincidence.”

“Are you willing to take that chance, hag?” Desaad spat again, looking once more to the beacon and the swath of brilliance that it cut through the sky. “I for one am not. If it is HIS coming, I shall be ready. Do as you will. The Lord Darkseid shall not find me wanting upon his return.”

Desaad turned, his robes flowing about him as he hurried towards the long, stone stairs leading down once more. He was gone in a flash, and Granny Goodness glanced at her compatriot. She saw Vunderbarr sigh.

“I’d best get Kanto out of the dungeons.”

“And I must see to my girls.” Granny glanced skyward again, feeling a tremble run down her spine. “I hope that Desaad is right, this time.”

“As do I, my dear Granny.” Vunderbarr said as he marched towards the stairs.

“As do I…”

To be continued in Dark Genesis...

8.Peace

Peace…

Henshaw ‘sighed’, concentrating as he relished the sudden brief time of alone.

There was metal about, and computers- though they were strange- he could feel them. He could almost taste them. He had to heal a bit though, first.

The sniveling little man had ripped him to his limits, poking and prodding again, and stretching what was left for how long he had no idea.

He remembered vaguely the explosion. He remembered the Superman, his hammering fists and eyes ablaze, but after that there was nothing. Almost…

He remembered the Green. And there was something after that, but…

He ‘reached’ out, his mind touching, probing. There was a bit of pipe. And there a circuit board left unattended. A stray wire, a bit of plumbing, a nut, a bolt, it did not matter. It all rolled his way, heeding his call. It would take time, but every bit and piece would add to the whole, eventually.

If he had the time.

But then, that was all that he had left.

All that he needed…

Once more, time was the key…

To be continued in Dark Genesis…

9.Priorities

Gateway City

When Cassandra Sandsmark walked out of Gateway High School, she was there.

Princess Diana of Themyscira stood with a respectable amount of regality, waiting patiently. Upon seeing Cassie, she lifted the sunglasses from her face and smiled. It was forced and more for show but Cassandra returned the gesture nonetheless.

Wonder Girl was stilled by the unexpected appearance of her mentor. She moved, tucking her blonde locks behind her ear as she walked. She stopped a few paces from Diana. There were so many things that she wanted to say to the princess but she waited for Wonder Woman to speak first.

"We have to talk."

"I'm glad to see you're alright," Cassie said. Finally, against her better judgment, she asked the question on her mind: "Where did you go?"

"It's a long story that needs to be told. But not here."

Wonder Girl looked around, finding her fellow students streaming out of the building on all sides. The school setting would not do. "Where do you want to go?"

Diana pointed up-

"Fly with me."

***

Cassie was worried now. She hadn't noticed at first, but Diana was in a bad way. Wherever the League had disappeared to, Wonder Woman hadn't come away unscathed. She was favoring one of her hands and looked uncomfortable as she flew.

Wonder Woman pulled up so suddenly that Cassie almost passed her up. She followed the princess' path and floated, bobbing up and down on the wind currents.

Something wasn't right here. Diana was being a lot more impersonal than usual. She had yet to ask how Cassie was. In fact, she hadn't yet said anything else since they left the high school.

Finally having the chance, Cassie gazed upon Diana's hurt hand and saw massive amounts of bruising around the knuckles and the wrist. "What happened to your hand?"

"A monstrosity named Annihilus," Wonder Woman responded, "but that is not important at the moment. I'm healing."

Annihilus? Wonder Girl asked herself, Never heard of him. He must have been tough to do that to Diana.

"There is a lot of information I'm going to give you right now, Cassie, and I want you to stay with me."

Cassandra gave a nod and was immediately bombarded by Diana's story, detailing the events of the past two weeks. She gasped when Diana told her about the broken lasso. She held back tears when it was revealed that Kyle Rayner, the Green Lantern, had been murdered in cold blood. She gave a sigh of relief at the safe returns of the rest of the Justice League. And when the tale had ended, Cassie looked upon Diana, who almost appeared to be exhausted after the retelling.

But, as it turned out, the story wasn't over yet.

"I've left the League," Wonder Woman revealed, not able to look her protege in the face.

"What? Why?"

"Some thing's have come up that require my attention. Namely, I have to get the lasso repaired. That is the first priority in my mind."

Cassandra studied Wonder Woman, noticing the woman's outward hesitation. "Is there something else, Diana?" Diana nodded-

"I'm leaving."

"Where are you going? You just got back!"

Reaching into her pocket, Diana withdrew a piece of the lasso. Its glow was very faint and seemed to deteriorate with each passing moment. "This tool was a gift from a goddess. It was supposed to be unbreakable. The lasso symbolized the unending truth, but now that it's been destroyed, I'm starting to wonder if it'll effect me in a negative manner. I have to get it repaired. I have to make amends."

"That doesn't answer my question. Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet, Cassandra. Wherever I have to. I have a couple of leads I can follow, but no telling whether they'll yield the results I want or not. I also don't know how long I'll be gone, which leads to the reason I'm telling you all this.

"I'm leaving the safety of Gateway City in your hands. From what I can tell, the planet is out of any immediate danger, but you know as well as I that that can change at any moment. You must be prepared."

Wonder Girl was astounded. She shook her head quickly, wondering if she had heard Diana correctly. At first, the Amazon had been completely against teaching her to be a hero. Then, Diana had agreed to act as Cassie's mentor. In the months that had followed, Diana had used any available moments to follow through on that responsibility. Now, Wonder Woman was leaving her city in the hands of Wonder Girl. Cassandra Sandsmark shuttered-

"Are you going to be coming back?"

"What do you mean, Cassandra?"

"The way you're talking, it sounds like you're going on a suicide mission. Diana, you're starting to scare me."

It was as if those words snapped the princess out of a haze. A tear rolled down her cheek as a hand rose to cover her shocked face. "I'm so sorry, Cassandra, I don't know what's happening. So many things have taken place in such a short time that I'm having trouble sorting everything out. Green Lantern is dead, the League is broken, the world is scarred. And I wasn't able to prevent any of it."

Cassandra laid a hand on Diana's shoulder. "You're not responsible for everything, Diana. You need to take a deep breath and recollect. You said you wanted to get the lasso repaired, so start there. Gateway will be here when you return."

Diana looked upon Cassie in that moment and smiled. The girl had grown up these past few moments, shedding her cloak of ignorance in favor of a truly inspired hero. Wonder Girl would do her mentor proud.

"Do you want to get some coffee or something?" Cassie asked.

"No, I must leave immediately. If you run into trouble, anything at all, get in contact with the Watchtower. The museum has the contact information as my 'in case of emergency' number."

She started to move away-

"Be safe, Wonder Girl."

To be continued in Wonder Woman…

10.Visitations

Manhattan…

In the dead of night, a shadow was moving inside a dead man’s apartment. Several days ago a madman from another universe had killed ago Kyle Rayner, the Green Lantern. His ring, the most powerful weapon in the universe, had been destroyed. But there was another ring, and the Batman was in Kyle Rayner’s apartment to retrieve it.

While searching through a cabinet of art supplies, the Batman was caught by surprise when lights came on.

"Looking for this?"

Standing the doorway was Donna Troy, live-in girlfriend of the late Kyle Rayner. In one hand she held the power battery that charged the Green Lantern’s ring. In the palm of her other hand, Donna held the second ring.

"Those aren’t safe here," the Batman said in affirmation. "They shouldn’t be together. I’ll only need the ring."

Donna looked at the ring, wondering how she could have found it in the apartment when Flash had said it’d been destroyed. "Don’t you have any sense of decency at all? If…if there’d been a body, he wouldn’t even be cold."

The Batman turned around completely, held himself up not to intimidate but to show respect to a colleague. "No, and I’m not the only one. People will come for that battery. They can’t find that ring. It’s a duplicate of the ring Hal Jordan had."

Donna started at the revelation, almost dropping the ring from her hand. One of the old rings from the Green Lantern Corps, capable of duplicating itself for new recruits. For only a second Donna had taken her eyes from the Batman, but that was enough for him to close the gap to only a few feet.

"Jordan gave me the ring, just in case. There may be others. That battery shouldn’t be in contact with any of them. Nobody knows about the ring. It should stay that way."

Without a word or hesitation, Donna turned her hand and dropped the ring into the Batman’s outstretched palm. It wasn’t Kyle’s ring, after all. It didn’t mean anything to Donna.

Looking Donna square in the eyes, the Batman slipped the ring into his utility belt. "That battery should be secured. Some could find a way to use it."

"They would take it over my dead body," Donna replied. "And a few of theirs. Push the matter, and I’ll start with you."

"These are the people who killed Rayner’s last girlfriend. You have a son."

"Get out!" Donna ordered in a raised voice. Tears were starting to form in her eyes. The empty hand she held out was clenched, shaking. "Don’t you dare say another word. Just get out."

The Batman complied. Without another word or any sound at all, he left the apartment. Donna Troy was left alone, with Kyle’s power battery still held fast in her hand.

This wasn’t the only thing of Kyle’s that Donna possessed, however.

Left alone, unseen and unheard, Donna reached into the front of her dress. Hidden down there, held by a string around Donna’s neck, were two green rings. One of them, the ring that Kyle had originally worn, glowed faintly against her skin. The other was a duplicate ring created by the one that the Batman had given to Kyle. Hal Jordan’s ring, which, Kyle had worn during his death.

The other duplicate, Donna had just returned to an unsuspecting Batman.

11.Rebirth

War World

Ganthet stared at what he had wrought and sighed. Such a pity, it was all for naught.

The grass had taken seed in the rich soil, which he had laboriously transported from one of the flourishing planets within the Central Hub that had never moved beyond a floral form of life, and then not a one, which had become sentient. He had pain-stakingly reproduced the conditions necessary to create an atmosphere of sorts. Granted it was thin, and again he had had to transport water in the proper amounts and dilution to provide for the proper conditions. He had had to remove several of the silos to do this, disposing of the useless- yet still dangerous- in the hearts of various stars that were well on their way to going nova or expanding to encompass their systems that were again, uninhabited. He had built mountains. He had adjusted the atmosphere just so to best utilize the available sunlight, backed actual by the vast powers still burning within the ancient sphere. It had all really been starting to take shape nicely.

All for naught…

Ganthet sighed, plucking a freshly bloomed flower from the dirt. He had seen it first on Lyonis, far at the edge of the Rim Worlds and it had caught his eye. It had a deep green blossom, a verdance so dark that from a distance it appeared black, and its wide, blooming cup stayed open and swelling for weeks in the spring. A truly fragrant flower, the inhabitants of Lyonis had named it Shikaiti, meaning coincidentally ‘Green Flame’ in their native tongue. A pity, but it would have died away soon anyway as he had yet to transplant insects to aid in pollination.

“Regrets, old friend?”

Ganthet turned, forcing a smile as he stared up at the wizened visage of the old wizard, Shazam. The ancient looked tired and gaunt, but then they all did. Such was their lot in life.

“There are always regrets, wizard,” Ganthet replied, taking a long whiff of the flower’s fragrance before tossing it to the earth again. “When one devotes one’s soul to a cause, and that cause suddenly becomes meaningless…”

Shazam nodded, slipping his gnarled hands into the huge sleeves of his robes. Ganthet knew that the wizard had suffered much recently; his chosen warriors were suffering and in disarray, and one of his eld warriors had resurfaced as a force to be reckoned with. Too, there was that current business with Nabu that had touched all of them.

“One must retain hope, however,” Izaya the Highfather said as he joined the other two. He looked tired as well, though just a bit less as he was the youngest of their triumvirate. He had his problems as well though; most recently in that strange light that did portend doom.

“Hope is all that keeps us going at times my friend. If not for that frail mistress, New Genesis might have fallen ages ago.”

“As would we all, Izaya.”

There was a silence as the three wizened and ancient beings took a final long look at the burgeoning world that had been their home these past months. In a short time it would be gone; different at least, lifeless and cold once again.

“Let us begin…”

Highfather nodded, holding out his shepherd’s crook parallel to the ground to allow his two comrades to grasp the rod. Ganthet did without hesitation, already steeled against the turmoil to come. Shazam hesitated only a moment, but he had agreed and knew that it was necessary. They would all be weak in the aftermath, and might well become incomprehensible for days, weeks even. But it had to be.

The green came first of course as it was Ganthet that led the trio. It was a slight flicker of flame that licked the length of the rod, dancing over withered hands and searing weathered skin. Both Izaya and Shazam winced at the strange sensation; both pleasure and pain, different and yet alike as well.

Izaya’s hands flexed, his fingers groping for a tighter grip as he will his own energies to mingle with those that Ganthet had called forth. He could hear the call already, that siren wail echoing over the parsecs from the very center of the galaxy where a spark of green still flickered aimlessly and lost. He added his light to Ganthet’s dark fire, calling to the SOURCE to see him through.

Shazam was sweating, licking his lips as the verdant charge danced over his long fingers. His hair was rising with the energy, his thick robes smoldering slightly with the strange combination of science and magicks coursing through Highfather’s staff. He concentrated, closing his eyes as he tried to visualize the magic. It had been years, ages since he had attempted such a task. When he opened his eyes he saw his allies watching him, nodding that they were prepared. It was up to him then…

SHAZAM!

Pain shot through the three ancient beings as War World shuddered and quaked beneath their feet, lightning blazing by overhead. There was a mighty wind sprinkled with the cosmic essence came sweeping down from the heavens as reality shifted. There was a growing void to fill, and the universe, already ravaged and sore struggled to make things right, sensing what was about to happen. Light exploded about them, wavering like heat on the desert. There was the sound of ice cracking, a crushing of stone and a shattering of wood. A boom of thunder. There was a scream…

Ganthet stared up at the star-filled sky glowing brightly overhead with billions of pinpoints of light. He realized after a moment that he could name them all, and had once when he had been bored. He knew where he was again, and there was a sense of security in that. He struggled to sit up, dizziness and exhaustion washing over him. He could not rest however, as there was still so much to do.

“Rest easy old friend,” Izaya said, placing a hand on the smaller being’s shoulder. “You have suffered much. It will wait.”

“No,” Ganthet said, pointing a gangly finger towards space, to the beam of light slashing through the sky. “It is here as well. We must be ready.”

Ganthet struggled to his feet, gazing at the waste that was once the world that he had been recreating. The flora had died of course, withered and black now with the frigid rigors of space. The water had boiled away in transit, and what atmosphere remained was thin and foul. Only the dirt remained, swept by the cosmic winds, a vast desert as far as the eye could see. He felt the slightest remorse, just for a moment until he saw the Flame.

It flickered there in the distance, weak and pitiful. It was depressing to see how it struggled there in the void, lost and alone.

“I shall call back the batteries first,” Ganthet said, his hands aglow with a flickering light as weak as the Flame. His eyes wet with tears. “The Flame must be rekindled first, before the fire can burn again.”

“Is there no other way?” Shazam asked, rubbing his hands. “I know well the hazards of stealing a warrior’s power.”

“Parallax stole the true power long ago old friend. Even before Jordan. Those that remain will understand, and if they are willing, will be recalled. For now there must be a champion, and he will need power.”

Ganthet sighed again as the Green danced from his fingertips. There was a spark at first, a wavering of the flame as though some invisible giant had blown on it. Then the ancient fire flared, sweeping up and out, spreading quickly throughout the cosmos, and from every corner of the universe he heard the screams. He ignored them, or tried to as best he could.

Ganthet closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, calling back that, which he had once given so long ago.

And slowly, steadily, the Green Flame of New Oa began to burn ever brighter…

To be continued in Dark Genesis…

12.Warriors

Metropolis

“Ungh…”

“You okay, John?”

Guy Gardner looked to his friend and business partner, John Stewart. He was at the corner table, going over the bills and daily invoices when he had cried out. Turning, Guy saw that he was sweating and looked almost… well… green. Sickly though.

“I- I think so. My ring burned for a second it felt- I dunno. Then I just got nauseous.”

“Probably that cheese on the nachos,” Gardner kidded, watching his friend dab away at the perspiration on his brow with a bar napkin. He was looking better already. “I told’ja it was turnin’. I know my cheese, son.”

Stewart nodded, forcing a smile as he twisted the green ring on his finger. Gardner had not had to ask what ring had burned. The damn thing was nothing but trouble, which was why his was in the display case at the front entrance of Warriors, on the manikin that wore his old costume and held his old battery. The rings were useless since Rayner had showed up on the scene, the batteries wouldn’t recharge the things. Not that Guy needed the Green, what with his Warrior powers, but John did.

Of course, Rayner was dead now. It was nice of Sue Dibney to spread the word, though he figured a phone call instead of a mass E-mail would’ve been better. Just how cold had the League got since he had quit?

Not that he cared, mind you, but still…

“Guy!”

“What?” Guy Gardner looked to find Stewart near the front display. Guy had been day dreaming apparently, and had not even seen his friend wheel away. He strolled over, seeing the look of confusion on Stewart’s face. “What now?”

“Your battery…

“It’s gone!”

To be continued in Dark Genesis…

13.Passings

The WALL

He was starting to feel the cold floating there on a rock drifting towards the WALL. The heat had left him, the friction of the speed, and here in the depths, the farthest reaches of space even the Gods felt the bite. He did not care.

Fastback stared at the WALL in all its majesty, beyond even his scope to view let alone comprehend. It seemed at a glance unchanging, as forever as the SOURCE. It stretched as far as he could see in every direction, inconceivably folding back upon itself in some fashion, wide as it was tall. Adamant and resolute, he knew as well as all that it held back the very forces of Creation, that great power of the Old Gods long abandoned. It appeared fast and endurable, ever-lasting at a glance, but of course appearances were often deceiving.

Fastback stared at the breach, that cracked and charred area where one of the Promethean Gods had once dwelled, trapped there in the WALL for daring to venture beyond. The space was empty now, a black void that was slowly sealing thanks to the efforts of the strange creatures that scurried about the surface of the barrier. Still he could see the strange, roiling energies beyond- just a glimpse, a flicker of violet and churning like a cloud.

And there was the light.

At the bequest and command of Scott Free he had followed the strange and eerie beam of light across the vast cosmos after it had slashed a path near New Genesis. He had never raced so fast, trying to outrun that odd glow and never for so long. It had been a race to seek its destination of course, and not to out race it, but still he had tried, and failed. There were faster than he of course; light was one.

And now he stared in awe at the glow that illuminated that one hole in the WALL. He wondered what had been there, and just why the beacon had struck there. Had it been a signal of release? Perhaps a warning to those that came to investigate? Would others come?

He turned as something smashed into the WALL not so far away. A bit of rock, flotsam as on which he stood. The WALL in its glory drew in all that came too close, and the creatures that scurried over its surface then used whatever they found for their own ends. His own asteroid was drawing ever nearer. He would have to leave soon-

“Fastback…”

Fastback quaked to hear the gravelly voice there in the void so far from all. He turned quickly, his eyes growing wide as he saw he who had called his name.

“Darkseid…”

He appeared old. His grim and stony visage frowned, his body cracked and chipped and smoldering. He seemed weak, but alive. And he was drawing near.

“Have I sunk so low?” he asked, his voice colder than the vacuum about them. They were gods of course, both of them so the void meant nothing to them, but still Fastback felt the shiver of terror that swept over him as the once Lord of Apokolips drew closer. “Have I been gone so long that one such as you would deny me the reverence I once deserved? Still, it has been ages, or seems so.”

Fastback backed away quickly as the Dark Lord drew near, his hand outstretched. He seemed tired and confused, but determined. Best to run, bring the news to New Genesis that Darkseid had returned, but…

Darkseid stared at the light, the beacon shining over them both now as Fastback’s bit of flotsam floated towards the devastation of the WALL. He turned then, his gaze sweeping the barrier’s length, and for just a moment he seemed to sag.

“I see,” he said, his head hanging. “Orion still lives?” Darkseid asked, turning again to Fastback, but before the swiftest of the New Gods might answer, the Lord of Apokolips continued, “Of course he does. Son and Father will fight to the death in the Fire Pits if the prophecies are to be held true.” The Dark Lord turned, looking to Fastback.

“I have never held with prophecy. I create my own.”

Fastback turned to run, to leap swiftly into the Speed Force and beyond. He could feel the crackle and spark of Hypertime beckoning, and it would take but a second, less…

He saw the flash of light then, a spark in the distance. His eyes narrowed, straining to see into the dark void, though he knew the sight that would meet his gaze. The Black Racer!

He appeared as always, armored in reds and yellows and blues, a gaudy cast for the final touch, his own dark visage unmoving and uncaring. He raced forward on skis, his cloak flashing and whipping behind as he raised a pole forward, midway between Fastback and Darkseid himself. Fastback watched in awe as the Dark Rider grew closer. He had beaten the force of beyond once, but knew now that he had come for one of them; he or Darkseid…

“Racer…”

The once Lord of Apokolips watched as the force from beyond the SOURCE drew closer, unafraid. Fastback saw that the Dark Lord seemed unconcerned, almost relishing the new arrival. Why?

“Come,” Darkseid said, raising his arms almost as if to accept his fate. The Black Racer streaked forward, his face impassive. Fastback gasped to see Darkseid’s eyes start to glow-

“Come and feel the Omega Effect! My gift to you, Black Racer!”

“No!”

Fastback shot forward even as Darkseid’s eyes erupted. Twin beams of energy raced outwards as he pushed himself as never before. He was tired from chasing the beacon already, but this was a race that he must win! What would become of the universe if Darkseid slew Death himself?

He ran! He flew! Pushing himself beyond limit and past reality he saw the Black Racer unconcerned, drawing closer, his pole raised for his final, fatal touch…

Fastback screamed!

Darkseid sighed, a slight smile cracking the stony façade of his lips. He was tired, and worse, he was ignorant. What had happened in his time away, he had no idea. But he would learn.

He watched as the Black Racer sped off again, vanishing finally in a pinpoint of stellar light. He had received his bounty, as had the Dark Lord. Fastback was young among the New Gods. He would be missed no doubt, but that was of no concern.

With the renewed energy that the young god had supplied, Darkseid was replenished. Now was the time to observe then. Now was the time to rest after his ordeals beyond; to plot and to plan. The wheels had already been set into motion.

Now, it was just a matter of time…

To be continued in Dark Genesis and Legion Worlds…

Next Issue: These stories and more continue at JLU: 2001 in Dark Genesis and all the titles...
Stay tuned...

Curt F
EIC
JLU: 2001

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