JLU 2001 - FIRESTORM #5

S.T.A.R. Labs
Metropolis

The air ignited around him as he flew at the highest speed he could manage. A wave of his hand and the roof changed, from plaster and metal to brittle chalk that broke effortlessly as he careened skyward. Any other time he would have simply turned intangible, allowing his molecules to shift ever-so-slightly out of synch with this dimension. But this time he was carrying a passenger, one whose life was in serious danger should he halt his breakneck escape from the destroyed building.

Ron Raymond had seen the effect before, the glowing green mist of death that he was trying to leave behind him and the person he was valiantly trying to rescue. It was a nuclear meltdown, of all things, happening directly in the heart of Metropolis. The college intern that was cradled in Firestorm's arms was already showing signs of radiation poisoning, caused by the burning hand that had nearly disintegrated the boy's lower arm.

Finally, Firestorm broke into open air, the thick plumes of smoke escaping with him as he climbed higher and higher into the sky. So many people were dead, all because of an assassin that shouldn't have even caused him to break a sweat. For reasons unknown, Deadshot had attacked the lab to murder Dr. Malcolm Witherall, the head of something called "Project Breakdown". When Ron couldn't stop him, Deadshot caused an accident and Witherall...

Two hundred and thirty five feet above the massive fire that was rapidly consuming the S.T.A.R. Labs facility, Firestorm paused to take in the scene. He'd only managed to rescue the one guy, the one that was closest to him when he saw the monster climb out of the haze with murder in its eyes. Raymond looked down at the barely-conscious intern and a swell of helplessness overcame him. The young man, barely younger than Ron, now had nothing to look forward to but a slow, agonizing death caused by radiation. It would've been more merciful to let him burn to death, Firestorm thought.

Fire trucks and ambulances had already arrived, god bless the Metropolis emergency response system. They had no idea, though, no idea that they were dealing with enough radiation to turn the city into a nuclear death zone. Treating it like a fire wouldn't help; possibly nothing could help.

Except me, Ronnie decided, no one can help but me.

With one arm occupied by his passenger, Firestorm flew down closer to the ruined building and outstretched his free hand. Nuclear energy flared from his fingertips while his face tightened in determination. He would not let Metropolis die, not like this he wouldn't. The oxygen particles surrounding the building began to shimmer through the hero's molecular vision, and he flew a perimeter around the area of destruction, cutting off the advancing EMS workers before they could expose themselves to certain death. When he completed his flight around the building, he used the little amount of geometry knowledge he'd retained from college. A full cube was what he needed, and no margin of error would be acceptable.

When he was satisfied with his equation, Firestorm locked into the particles of air that he'd tagged during his flight. His eyes began to glow, a slow pulse of yellow, and then his hand exploded. The light from the hero's fusion blast brightened the sky like a second sun, forcing the assembled emergency workers and random passersby to shield their eyes. Ron's teeth gritted painfully as he moved the molecules around the area like a jigsaw puzzle, tweaking and fitting each tiny particle in the huge area.

And when he was done, a cube of metal sat square in the heart of Metropolis, extending both above and below the contained building in perfect symmetry.

Exhausted from his effort, Firestorm flew erratically toward the ground, his waking prisoner held tight to keep from being dropped. The paramedics were already waiting for him when he landed, and the college student was taken from the weakened hero's grasp to be escorted to an ambulance. With his hands on his knees, Ron doubled over and attempted to catch his breath. It had been quite a number of years since he'd transmuted such a large space, and the strain was a little more than he'd expected.

"Firestorm, right?" one of the paramedics, an attractive blonde woman with a nice smile, asked from beside him. "You okay?" Ronnie glanced over, and wasn't surprised to see a firefighter and police officer standing beside the woman.

"I'll be fine," he said after returning to an upright stance, "and sorry about the drastic measures back there. Radiation poisoning...something hazardous just melted down in there. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt, so I sealed the place off with lead. It's only a temporary measure, I'm afraid."

"We appreciate it, hero," the fireman said, "but we have to get in there to help any survivors."

"They're all dead," Firestorm replied with his head hung low. He wasn't able to look at the group of people that was beginning to crowd around him. He took a glance back at the large of block of metal that he'd forged, and his expression changed from sorrow to one of steeled resolve. "All except for one."

	The Fury Of... "Wither, Blister and Burn"
Firestorm#5 - May, Year TWO	by Chris Munn

Elsewhere
Location Unknown

"One has to wonder just why I didn't figure it all out before. I mean, it was kind of obvious...or, well, at least it should have been. Especially for someone with my abilities. Though, to be fair, I couldn't really do all the wonderful things back then that I can do now. Lucky for him, I guess."

Fingers ran through his mess of hair, massaging his scalp while large flakes of dandruff shook onto his shoulders. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the attention, his legs kicked up on the work table in front of him. A computer screen glowed in front of him, the only source of light in the darkened room.

"It's called an epiphany, when you just wake up one day and the answer to the one question that's bugged you your whole life is suddenly clear as day. I think it was my unconscious brain, working its power to solve the riddle that had eluded me for so long. Yeah, I think that was it."

The woman behind him bent down until he could feel her breath on his neck. She hesitated, as if awaiting an order to continue. He smiled at her pause and then nodded his head. Her tongue was in his ear a moment later, teasing with a sultry sexuality that he'd rarely experienced until late (though he'd be loathe to admit it).

"And there it was: Ronnie Raymond is Firestorm. As much as I hate the guy, I have to say that I'm the one that felt like a complete idiot when I realized the connection. Right under my nose all those years. I have to give it to him, the sucker is slick."

With a silent command, she stopped her tease and stepped backward, removing her hands from his shoulders. Lifting his legs, he swiveled around in the desk chair and smiled wickedly at the woman under his control. His fingers danced in the air, and she snapped to action like a robot. Slowly, methodically, she removed her clothing until she was standing nude before him.

"That was all before I made the deal, though. A while back, some demon guy named Neron went around offering power upgrades to supervillains, and I do admit that I was a little surprised he wasted his time on me. But he did, and now here we are. I can do such amazing things with my mind now...nothing is beyond me. I can move you like a puppet, and make you beg for me to do such scandalous things to you."

The red-haired girl leaned over and kissed him passionately. Her skin was hot to the touch. Unnaturally hot.

"You're going to help me kill Firestorm, babe," he said as he slapped her bare ass with the palm of his hand, "and everyone will remember Cliff Carmichael's name from now until the end of history."

"My name's Jason," he said from his position in the back of the ambulance, his voice weak as a whisper, "Jason Fausz. I was interning under Dr. Witherall. What...what happened? What's wrong with me?"

Firestorm stood at the doors to the ambulance and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Look, Jason," he said, "they're going to take you to the hospital. Something happened in the lab, and you were the only one I could save. I'm...I'm sorry, man."

"Oh God," Jason said, trying to fight back tears, "all of them?"

"Jason, I need your help," Ron continued, his voice on the verge of breaking, "I need to know about this Project Breakdown that Witherall was involved with."

After a series of violent coughs, Fausz settled back down on the stretcher. "Breakdown was the doctor's white whale. He said it was going to revolutionize the medical field...said it over and over and over, actually. It breaks down molecular bonds, making it possible for tumor cells to be split from the body without damage to the surrounding tissues. He would've been finished with it months ago, but the FDA kept putting roadblocks in his way. Apparently, the money is in the treatment, not the cure."

Raymond nodded in response to the information. "Thanks, Jason. The paramedics are going to take you to the hospital now. I'll...I'll stop in and see you after I take care of the situation here."

The doors to the vehicle closed, and Firestorm kept his eyes on the ambulance as it drove away, weaving through the growing crowd around the S.T.A.R. Labs facility. The police were essentially on crowd control by this point, at Firestorm's behest. Closing his eyes, Ronnie cleared his mind and sent out the strongest telepathic mayday he could muster.

This is J'onn, the mental "voice" of the Martian Manhunter answered, what is your situation?

"It's Firestorm, down in Metropolis," Ronnie began, speaking aloud for his own comfort. When he shared a body with Professor Stein, he always felt better speaking to him with his voice rather than his thoughts, and his relationship with the Martian was no different. "I need you to get in touch with either Superman or Green Lantern as soon as possible. I've got an entire building sealed off that's essentially one giant radioactive bomb, and we need to dispose of it fast."

Understood, Firestorm, the Manhunter answered. What needs to be done in the meantime?

"I have to go back inside," Ron said, accenting his statement with long determined strides toward the lead wall that hid the doors to the building, "to find the person that's causing the radiation. I have to at least find out if he's still alive."

Superman and Green Lantern are en route. Good luck, Ronald...Manhunter out.

Standing before the metal containment cube, Firestorm sighed and closed his eyes. After taking a moment to collect himself, the hero turned back toward the firemen and paramedics that were still gathered several feet behind him. “Superman and Green Lantern are on their way. When they arrive, if I’m not back, tell them to take this cube and toss it straight into the sun.”

“Where are you going?” one of the firemen asked.

“Inside,” Ron replied before turning back to face the cube, “to see if I can correct this awful mistake.”

He raised his hand and the metal liquefied, creating a passage just large enough for him to pass through. Firestorm stepped through, and the metal sealed back into its leaden shape behind him. Ronnie phased his body, turning intangible, and allowed himself to fall through the street into the S.T.A.R. subbasements. Dr. Witherall was still inside the lab, but something had happened to him. He’d changed into something horrifying, because of a mistake made by a superhero...

When Deadshot fired on him, Witherall crashed into the main device that powered Breakdown. The explosion that resulted wasn’t because of the gunshot or the man’s collision...Ron had attempted to halt the bullet’s impact, to transform it into something harmless. By accident, the fusion beam struck the doctor instead, just as he crashed into the Breakdown machine. Just like what had happened with the Hyena weeks earlier, Firestorm’s power to transmute matter had affected a living person...his power wasn’t supposed to work that way, but it had.

And now Dr. Malcolm Witherall was a monster, one that was responsible for transforming the building into a radioactive death zone. People were dead, and who knew how many people outside had been affected by the radiation? This was the second time in a month that someone had infected innocents with a disease they couldn’t fight, but this time it wasn’t a madman like Dr. Phosphorus that was responsible. It was Ronnie himself that was to blame, and he hoped that this time he could at least stop it before anyone else suffered.

The laboratory was covered in a fog of smoke when he arrived, descending through the ceiling like a ghost. Intangibility used to make him nervous, back when he first became Firestorm. How easy he thought it would be for him to just fade away, unseen and untouchable. After he got over that feeling, however, he started to use the ability like a safety net. He did become untouchable, but in a much different way: he used it to hide. But he was older now, and he faced his foes like a man. Solidifying in the lab, Firestorm switched his perceptions, scanning the room for anything biological that still lived. Dead bodies glowed faintly in areas of the room, the remains of the science team that had been assisting Witherall. The doctor himself, though, was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello,” a voice said behind him, followed by a touch of a hand on his shoulder. The nerve endings in Ron’s arm and neck screamed, the attacker’s touch burning his flesh with radiation. Firestorm fell to his knees, taken off guard by the sudden scorch of the stranger’s hand, and he shut his eyes closed as tightly as possible. Finally, the hand released its grasp on his shoulder, and the pain subsided.

Slowly, Ron twisted his head to look around his shoulder. Atomic energy was building in his hands, preparing to eliminate the threat that had made itself known. He wasn’t surprised by what he found behind him...just saddened by the confirmation of the suspect’s identity. Wearing the tattered remains of a white lab coat, Dr. Malcolm Witherall adjusted his glasses and smiled. His skin had become transparent, his skeleton glowing in a rhythmic pulse of blue light. The balding hairline that he’d worn was now gone, leaving only frayed ends of hair across the back of his scalp. He had become just what Ronnie had feared; he was the monster that he’d seen before fleeing the lab, the person responsible for the agonizing burns on Jason Fausz’s arm.

“I apologize for taking you by surprise,” Witherall said. He raised his hand, prompting Firestorm to remain on the floor, on his knees, while he spoke. “I also apologize for what happened the last time you saw me. I was slightly...unhinged...then. I’m assuming you’re intelligent enough to understand why, of course.”

“Doctor,” Ron began, his own hands lifted to his sides, showing that he meant no harm to the man, “I’ve had to seal the building off. Everyone else inside is dead, and you’re leaking more radiation than Chernobyl. I have friends coming, and we’re going to try our best to help you, to get you back to normal.”

The doctor smiled, though the skull visible beneath his transparent skin remained in the constant skeletal grimace. “My dear boy, why on earth would I want to go back to the way I was? I am now walking proof of Project Breakdown’s capabilities, and no one can deny the results. Naturally, the physical alterations are troubling, but I am brilliant enough to understand that personal sacrifices are necessary for such breakthroughs. I can do such wonderful things now, hero...”

Oh no, please don’t let this happen, Firestorm thought as he began to rise from the floor.

“And I suppose I must admit,” the doctor concluded as he extended his open palm in front of the Raymond, “I am still somewhat unhinged.”

With that statement, Firestorm realized that he would have to forcibly remove the doctor from the premises. Nuclear energy shot from Firestorm’s palm, the hero hoping that a transmutation of the air around Malcolm – the same he had done around the building – would be enough to contain him. To his surprise, however, the energy blast collided with the doctor’s open hand and stopped, the air transmuting not to lead but to dust that scattered harmlessly between them.

“I suppose it is you I have to thank for this,” Witherall said as he clapped his hands together, knocking the dust from his palm, “with your ability to rearrange atoms. I believe I know more about how your power works than you do, son...and when you struck me with your energy, it combined with my own work on Breakdown. I can shatter molecular bonds like they were made of glass, and now the world is my playground.”

“I’m trying to help you, Dr. Witherall,” Firestorm interrupted as he took flight around the room, navigating through the smoke and fire that still lingered, “so could you shut up long enough for me to think?”

“Please,” the scientist countered as he crouched to the ground, his palms flattened on the floor, “call me Wither now. It sounds so much more dramatic.”

After his open hands made contact with the metal floor, the ground surrounding the deranged scientist exploded, spontaneously combusting as Wither destroyed the molecules in the man-made substance. The doctor fell through the hole he’d made, escaping just as Firestorm flew above him, missing his attempt to grab his new enemy by the coat.

He’s gone, Ronnie thought, great. I can’t worry about him right now, though. I have to fix this before it gets even worse.

Firestorm halted his flight and hovered in place, closing his eyes as he attempted to lock onto the radioactive elements in the air around him. He was trying to feel his way through his attempt by instinct, to apply high science that he admitted to barely understanding. It had been so much easier when Professor Stein was with him, supplying him with the computations he needed to work his miracles. But Stein was gone, and Ronnie had no one to rely on but himself.

“Change,” Raymond said authoritatively as his eyes snapped open, a corona of intense light and energy exploding in wild arcs from his body. The radiation that had dispersed into the air of the building began to alter molecularly, tweaked and transformed by the Nuclear Man’s power into the easiest and most harmless thing he could think of.

Ronnie felt a sudden light-headedness as the radiation became oxygen, super-saturating the building with the life-giving element that he had created from the deadly radioactive molecules. There was no way he could’ve changed it all, he knew, but he hoped it would be enough to make the danger-level fall to an acceptable level.

“Impressive,” he heard Dr. Witherall say from below him, the madman having returned to the lab once he realized Firestorm had failed to follow him. Ronnie lowered his head to look at the scientist, preparing to press his attack once again now that the greater threat was essentially neutralized. Wither smiled his skeletal grin once again. “One thing about an overabundance of oxygen, however,” he continued, “it combusts very easily.”

Unexpectedly, the air surrounding Firestorm burst into flame, catching the hero in a ball of fire that was hot enough to burn through the near-impervious costume that he wore across his body. Ronnie screamed in pain and fell to the ground, consumed by the fire that was being fueled by the oxygen he created in the air. Desperately, he allowed his power to flare once again as he hit the ground, transforming the oxygen into the first thing that came to his mind: water.

“Very good,” Wither said as he strode toward the fallen hero, who was now soaking with liquid, the fire around him doused, “you’re actually managing to impress me.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,” Firestorm stuttered as he raised a shaking hand to attack the oncoming villain.

Another fusion blast erupted from his hand, but Wither merely waved it aside as he neared the fallen hero. “You like to change things so much,” the scientist said as he thrust his hand toward Firestorm’s chest, “let’s see how it feels, eh?”

Wither’s hand flattened against Firestorm’s chest, and a wave of pain surged through his body. He began to convulse on the floor as the doctor played hob with his energy matrix. With a flash of light, Firestorm transformed back into Ronnie, then back again into Firestorm, and back again and again. He had lost control at Wither’s touch, and this brought a smile to the intelligent man’s face.

“I could kill you now,” Wither said softly as he removed his hand, allowing the hero – back in his Firestorm guise once more – to fall onto his back, weak as a kitten, “but what kind of gratitude would that be? I have experiments and tests to run, boy, and it would be in your best interest to leave me to my work. I won’t be so forgiving next time.”

“Don’t...go...” Ronnie strained as Wither stood and began to walk away.

“I’m much smarter than you,” Malcolm said as he disappeared into the smoke of the ruined lab, “and I could kill you with barely a thought. Remember that...”

“I’m not detecting anything above the minimum danger levels for radiation poisoning. Whatever Firestorm did, it apparently worked.”

Superman nodded at the Green Lantern as his teammate lowered his hand, the power ring on his finger having scanned the interior of the large slab of lead that covered the S.T.A.R. Labs facility. “We’ll give him a few moments more,” Superman stated, “but we can’t risk these people any more than we already have.”

Suddenly, as if in answer to Superman’s statement, a section of the containment cube bubbled and melted away, allowing the flaming-headed Firestorm to exit the prison he’d created. “Hey guys,” Ronnie said, his head hung low as he approached his two Justice League teammates, “sorry about all this. Things are more or less under control now. The radiation’s gone, more or less.”

“What happened here?” Green Lantern asked as he and Superman closed in around their friend, concerned at his obvious melancholy. “Who caused this?”

“I did,” Firestorm answered, “and now there’s a madman out there somewhere. I couldn’t stop him, and now everything he does will be my fault.”

“You did the best you could,” Superman offered as he placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “and we’ll catch the person that did this. You have my word, Firestorm.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Supes,” Ronnie said as he politely brushed Superman’s hand from his shoulder.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Several Hours Later

After an exhaustive – and futile - search of the area around the S.T.A.R. Labs building and the disposal of the lead containment cube, Ronnie was exhausted. He touched down softly on the roof of his apartment building, the corona of flame around his head the only source of light in the dark night.

He had told Superman and Green Lantern to call him if Dr. Witherall showed up again, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. The scientist wouldn’t be found until he was ready to test his experiments again, and all they could do was wait for another victim to appear. Every person that died at Wither’s hand would be a stab at Raymond’s conscience, and it was something that he would have to deal with emotional. But for now, all he wanted to do was fall into a coma and sleep for as long as humanly possible.

His mind lost in thought, he triggered the transformation back into his normal body, confident that he would be alone on the roof at that late an hour. With the wind blowing through his mess of brown hair, Ronnie looked up to the stars and sighed. For the third time in as many weeks, Firestorm had failed as a hero. What else could happen...just how could his life get any worse?

The sound of handclaps brought him crashing back to reality, prompting him to turn quickly on his heels. He was ready to trigger the transformation back into Firestorm, for fear of one of his enemies having tracked him to his home. What he saw, however, was a young girl standing next to the door to the apartment building. She was beautiful in the moonlight, her long blonde hair blowing to and fro in the breeze. Her leather jacket fit snugly against her body, buttoned up to keep out the cold, and a half-smoked cigarette dangled from her lips.

“I’ve never seen a superhero close up before,” she said, “not to mention one as cute as you.”

At that moment, Ronnie realized that things could always get worse. This girl, whoever she was, had seen him transform, and now he would have to answer questions that he would rather not face.

“My name’s Abigail Jordan,” she said with a smile, “and you must be Ronnie. My grandmother can’t shut up about you.”

Ronnie rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Shit.”

To Be Continued...

Next Issue: Dark Genesis is here! Darkseid has recreated reality, and the world is now a twisted mirror version of itself! But in this new world, who is Firestorm and why are Ron Raymond and a group of rebels trying to destroy him? Don’t miss this tie-in to the JLU event of the year!