JLU 2001 Fanfiction

Utopia Isle:
Squadron Compound

Superman

Superman staggered back. His jaw was throbbing and he could feel blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Blood! How long had it been since he had been hit hard enough to draw blood?

He fell back against the cold stone wall, amazed that the blow had not driven him clean through. The room was fortified, apparently defended and as he quickly scanned the area he saw the obvious reason why. It was a weapon’s room of sorts. He saw the rack upon rack of guns and swords and other even more archaic weapons lining one wall. Oddly it reminded him of the Hawks.

The red-haired man was stepping forward, his fists raised and was dressed now in a costume of red and gold. He was a speedster as well, apparently, as when he had slammed his fist into Superman’s face he had been wearing just his pants and boots, the rest of his clothes in hand. His face was twisted, angry, and Superman knew that he wasn’t ready to listen to reason. Not yet at any rate.

The big man had said something when they had first appeared on that strange escalator. He had called them something, the Squadron. ‘Sinister’ he had said. A case of mistaken identity, apparently. This group- whoever they were- thought that the JLA were someone else, villains. They had to change their minds.

Superman’s head started ringing as it slammed back into the wall again. The red-haired man made his vision swim, and he had felt a tooth crack with the blow. He was strong, fast, but apparently new to the hero’s lifestyle. It was common practice that someone simply standing there and willing to take the punishment could not be all bad. This man however saw Superman’s lack of defense as an opportunity, one that he was willing to exploit. Playing the willing punching bag was not going to work this time.

The man struck again, but the Man of Steel ducked, the red-garbed man’s blow smashing into the wall. He cursed, obviously in pain and Superman lashed out taking the opportunity, a hard shove to the man’s chest that sent him flying across the room and causing the woman with the wings to take to the air while the strange green alien twisted his body aside not unlike Plastic Man, or J’onn J’onzz. Kal-El, last son of Krypton had a moment to take stock and catch his breath as he straightened, the hard wall still behind him, supporting him.

Everyone seemed paired against his or her doppelganger. Superman had to wonder just where they were and how these people seemed so much like them. Batman was fighting the young man with the bird motif. Black Canary squared off against the woman with the wings. There was a speedster for the Flash, but both men had disappeared in a blur of black and scarlet. Ring against rock, lasso against shield, even Plas was fighting some strange creature that seemed pliable. It was bizarre to say the least.

Who were these people?

Hyperion The World's Greatest Superheroes.....

Vs

avengerslogo

Part Three:

Enter:

The Squadron Supreme!

JLA #31-
August, Year 3
by Curt Fernlund
Plot by Chris Munn and Curt Fernlund

Active Roster: JLA

AquaMan	Atom	Batman	Black Canary	Firestorm	Flash
Green Lantern	Martian Manhunter	Red Tornado	Superman	Wonder Woman	Plastic Man
Zatanna

Active Roster: Avengers

Beast

Black
Panther

Captain
America

Hawkeye

Iron Man

Quicksilver

Scarlet Witch

Thor

Warbird

Wasp

Mister Fantastic

Jimmy Woo

Martian Manhunter

J’onn J’onzz went desolid as the strange alien’s arm stretched, lashing out at him. He could ‘see’ the creature’s own mass intensify, his fist becoming almost rock-like as it passed through his own chest harmlessly to strike the solid wall behind. J’onn saw the alien’s eyes grow wide at the act, apparently something that he could not do in turn. Good.

Invisibility then. What else could he not do?

The Martian Manhunter faded away, a pale green breeze that swiftly disappeared. He watched the other, his own eyes adjusting as light rays bent around him, making him vanish. The alien seemed confused only for a moment, spinning as J’onn floated behind, expecting a trick. J’onn J’onzz did not wish to fight- especially one so unique, yet so like him, his people. J’onn J’onzz, the Manhunter from Mars wished to learn.

He flowed back, fading slowly into the dense wall behind him as the alien scanned the room. The wall was thick, the mass great and forced the intangible Martian to slow his movement, to ease into the complex structure. He stopped just short of vanishing completely, his own expanded Martian sight shifting through the spectrum of light both visible and unknown as he tried to comprehend these strange folk. He opened his mind…

Pain!

There was much pain in each and every mind, as though everyone of them had suffered greatly- and recently. In truth they were not so different, not so bizarre after all…

Hyperion was an alien not unlike Kal-El, his microscopic world destroyed when this… Earth unleashed their first atomic bomb. He had the power of the atom; strength, endurance, speed. So like Superman. Oddly he remembered nothing of his origins. Yet it was right there for the taking, just beneath his subconscious mind. Were there no mentalists on this world?

Nighthawk fighting Batman was the adopted son of the first, one Kyle Richmond who had been a world leader for a time. Neal ‘Richmond’ was the biological son of the first Nighthawk’s arch foe, the Huckster, and when the original Nighthawk had slain the psychopath he had adopted the boy, trained him. He was raw and filled with angst, trying to fulfill a destiny that should not have been his.

The Whizzer had a life, a family. He was the fastest man this world had to offer, and he felt uneasy in his role as a hero yet he did what needed to be done. This is the man Barry Allen might have been, should he have lived.

Doctor Spectrum had been an astronaut- Joe Ledger. He was the first man to encounter an alien on this world, the Skrull that stood before J’onzz. Ledger had saved the alien, and in return the Skrull had given the fearless astronaut a prism that granted him great power; the ability to make thought reality in the form of solid light and thought. So like Green Lantern, especially Hal Jordan.

Power Princess would have been an Amazon on Earth- the Earth of the JLA. Her own Utopian Isle seemed identical to Thymscira in its way though its inhabitants had left their Earth some time ago. Too, Zarda of the Utopians was far too similar to Wonder Woman except that she had married at one point in her history, her husband dying over the years while she remained almost immortal. There were differences to be sure, but they were slight, and but for a thought, a desire, Zarda could be Diana.

Skylark, Linda Lewis had been a popular vocalist before an accident claimed her true voice. A villain, Doctor Decibel gave her that voice back and more. Powers not unlike Black Canary; a sonic cry on multiple levels. Too, she had adopted the wings of her former lover, this world’s apparent version of Hawkman; the Blue Eagle.

Arcanna Jones, Moonglow was every bit the sorceress that Zatanna was, and she seemed to be the closest that this world might claim as a psychic. Her defenses were strong, regardless, but J’onn J’onzz was the greatest mentalist on his adopted world. He sensed pain in the woman, and fear for a family secreted away.

The man called simply Shape had been a criminal at some point. J’onn could just sense the memories behind a massive ‘wall’ set into his mind. Astounding defenses for one so simple minded, so free, so…

No!

They had changed him somehow. They had altered his way of thinking. ‘Behavior Modification’ they had called it, making him one of them, fighting the good fight- as they saw it. The original Nighthawk had broken the modification, or so he thought, but there was still so much there, psychic switches and barriers, doors and walls to seal away his true self…

And there had been others…

Ape X, Doctor Decibel, Fox Fire, Lamprey, Quagmire…

So many had died. So many had been altered to suit their needs in some bid to make the world a better place in their eyes. In their ideals!

“There is more, alien.”

J’onn J’onzz focused his attention on the battle raging before him. The alien, the Skrull was staring at him- right at him…

“Yes,” the Skrull said, his eyes glowing slightly, “I can see you now. It took some time, and some effort, but I can.”

The Martian Manhunter stepped from the wall, becoming solid and visible in the space of a heartbeat. His ruse had worked for a time, which was all that he had wanted, all he hoped. He knew his enemy now, knew how they might win, but perhaps there was still time to talk.

“I am Skymax, the Skrullian Skymaster! I was the first- and last of my kind. Biogenetically engineered to be the greatest of a mighty band of warriors to be used in an intergalactic war, the first of a new breed. I was never used alas, as my race was wiped away by the Great Devourer before my breed could be implemented. I am the last of my people, off-worlder. The Earth is my adopted home, and these are my friends, my family. To preserve them I will fight you to the last.”

J’onn J’onzz saw the Skrull morph, his body shifting as it shrank, compacting into the form of a strange little creature. He was dark, furry, with a long spiked tail and a long snout that snapped as it opened as though yawning.

J’onn screamed as he was engulfed in a gout of fire!

Batman

The Dark Knight raised his arm, grunting as he barely deflected the high-kick. The youth, Nighthawk went sailing past, springing off the wall and twisting to land in a defensive crouch, ready to attack again.

The boy was good. He had seen the momentary distraction, Batman’s attention drawn away when the Martian Manhunter had screamed in the rage of fire and he had attacked. The assault was static however and full of rage, no finesse despite the boy’s skill. He had problems apparently, luckily, or Batman might have been concerned.

It was almost like fighting Dick, the apprentice, the side kick all grown up and trying too hard to prove himself. He had the moves down, but the motivation was misdirected and lost with far too much emotion. Focus was the key, something that Dick would never have. He was good, but he would never be good enough.

Batman stepped away, watching his foe warily. Best not to get overconfident. End this pointless battle and get to the bottom of it all. They had to find the others, Aquaman and the rest lost in the Time Stream. They had to get home.

“You’re good,” the boy said, his face twisting in a cruel smile as he shifted his weight ever-so slightly. Batman followed suit. “But I was trained by the best. The greatest fighter on the face of the Earth. I may not be half the man he was, but I’m more than enough to take you down, Bat.”

“Batman,” the Darknight Detective corrected, his hand sliding over the compartments of his Utility Belt as he stepped to the side, shielding his movements with his cloak. His opponent shrugged-

“Whatever. I guess you Squadron Sinister types got tired of stealing our rep. Good thing too. That would be just one more reason for me to take you down.”

J’onn had been right then, a case of mistaken identity. This Squadron Supreme thought that they were some off-world doppelgangers, not unlike the Crime Syndicate of Amerika no doubt. This whole fight was pointless then. These were heroes despite the psychic imagery that J’onn had broadcast before the fire overwhelmed him.

Still, they had enforced their will on others acting as judge, jury and executioner. In their heads they had been trying to help a world that had been devastated by corporate corruption, but what they had done had been little better. They were not gods to impose their rule, casting decision from on high…

Batman paused.

Nighthawk slammed his fist home, the Batman barely easing back, rolling with the blow. He felt blood running freely from his nose, the sudden shock of pain as he staggered back blocking the follow up attacks. He had lost his focus, let the boy get too close as he had been trying to consider their options. He had let his guard down and the boy had seen his opening, again.

Batman snarled as he reached out, grabbing Nighthawk’s fist in mid-swing. He squeezed, pulling and twisting and making the boy stagger forward to meet the heel of his palm driven into his nose, then his chin. Batman jerked, keeping his hold and swung his elbow high into the youth’s temple, pulling him quickly around to drive it into his back right between his shoulder blades. The Batman drove his heel into Nighthawk’s leg, just behind the knee and forced him to the ground. He twisted the arm he still held higher, spinning until he heard an audible ‘pop’, shifting the shoulder out of joint. Nighthawk screamed and Batman drove his fist into the back of the boy’s neck, just below the skull. He let go his hold and stepped away.

Nighthawk staggered, struggling to his feet and actually turning before his legs gave way. He slammed to the stone floor on his knees, his legs useless, his arms hanging limply at his side as his eyes rolled back into his head. The boy moaned lightly and pitched forward, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Batman stared at the boy for a moment, thinking of Dick as he wiped at his nose. Then he looked away, concentrating…

J’onn, concentrate…

Flash

He remembered when he was younger, just a teenager as he raced alongside Barry. Barry had always held back, trying to teach him something with every step he took, never simply blowing him away as he could have, leaving him in the dust like the Road Runner did to the Coyote. He could have, easily, because he was Barry Allen- the Flash- Fastest Man Alive…

But he was Barry Allen- the Flash- Fastest Man Alive, so he never did.

This guy was Barry, or he could have been. Wally could sense it, feel it. He wasn’t a part of the Speed Force, but he was fast, fast as hell, next best thing. Wally wondered where he got his speed from. Couldn’t come from within- no way. He’d burn up. Nothing could hold that kind of power, the power to keep pace, the speed.

But this guy- this Whizzer was fast. Fastest Man Alive, at least on his world. Wally was impressed. They were on their twenty-third circuit around the huge island and the man was still keeping pace. Wally could tell that he was breathing hard- one breath per ten circuits roughly- but Wally had yet to take one. Still, Wally kept a step ahead, his own speed overwhelming the older man.

Aside from being fast however, the man was good. Wally had tried to steal the Whizzer’s speed at the very first, but whatever spark burned within his power it was way too different. Wally had groped for the Speed Force within and around the man and his protective aura, but there was nothing there. He had to resort to the old tricks then, all those little things that he used to do as Kid Flash; vibrational differences, reverse walls of back blast, cycloning his slipstream.

The Whizzer seemed to have an answer for every one though, leaping and twisting, changing his own vibratory pattern. He had stumbled once or twice, but he was fast enough to recover before Wally could exploit his lapse. He was good, but not good enough.

Wally West poured on the speed leaving the older man behind as he raced on ahead, rounding the curve of the beach and out of the Whizzer’s line of sight. Once around the bend, hidden by the huge boulders that dotted the tropical shore, the Flash cut back and forth, his arms spiraling, whipping wildly as he cut into his own slipstream, weaving a wall of backdraft that would be almost solid for a heartbeat or two. Just long enough if the Whizzer kept his pace.

Lightning crackled as the cross winds mingled, and through the hazy crimson Wally saw the blurred black form of his opponent running forward. Wally hesitated, vibrating in place to keep his rhythm just in case, but the older man simply ran on, right for the wall, not breaking stride. Wally worried the Whizzer might break his neck suddenly, he was not slowing down. He did not want to kill the man. He almost cried out.

But the Whizzer’s form faded suddenly, blurring just as it should have hit the wall of wind, the vibrational barrier. The Flash blinked, wondering what had happened. Had he vibrated into the ground? Had he jumped planes somehow? Gone invisible? Wally licked his lips, running forward as his wall vibrated away, the speed burnt-

The sand pebbles hit him like a hailstorm, stinging at first, then burning, hurting. Even as he started to vibrate away he knew what the Whizzer had done, those times he had ‘stumbled’, every circuit. He had been gathering dirt and grit off the beach, dropping it into his slipstream, and as Wally changed his vibrational pattern faster, slower, feeling the pelting storm he knew the man had sent each handful through at a different speed. He had known what Wally would do- called it to the letter, and he had been prepared.

Just like Barry.

Wally back-pedaled, trying to outdistance the storm but it was growing caught up in his own wake. He could not see, felt scratches on his face, rips in his costume. The sand was blasting him apart, millions of tiny bullets waiting at whichever speed he adapted. He could not get away.

Wally froze, shutting down the speed, letting the storm whiz past. His eyes were watering as he blinked, trying not to rub, trying to listen. He was almost blind, had to get away. He felt his breath catch, choke in his throat.

He saw the hand vibrating wildly poking through his neck. He could not breathe and his vision started to gray as the hand, the arm solidified. He felt an intense pain in the back of his head as his oxygen was cut off, his blood flow stopped. His eyes went wide, then darkness washed over him-

Stanley Stewart dropped to his hands and knees and heaved into the golden sand, hacking and coughing. He was gasping for breath as his world swam, his head spinning with the sudden rush of adrenaline catching up to him.

The boy had been fast, but he was arrogant thinking his greater speed was the end all. Experience though was what had won the race, and the Whizzer had plenty of that. Still…

Stanley wondered just what it must be like to be that fast as he crawled forward and checked the boy’s pulse. Faster than light, faster than thought. He was faster, his pulse erratic but there. He would live.

Fastest Man Alive…

J’onn… Focus!

Wonder Woman

The other was good, maybe better. Maybe. A warrior born, she was fast and quick-witted, easily adapting to Diana’s every attack, quickly countering with her own. There was an edge about her though, hard and determined. She had seen much death this one, much misery and pain. It showed in her every movement, her every blow. Her rage was vast, barely held in check as though she were not only fighting her opponent, but her self as well.

“Sister-“ Diana gasped, barely raising her arms from the bashing shield of the Power Princess, barely deflecting the blow. Still the force of the onslaught drove the Amazon princess to her knees, gritting her teeth from the clash. Power Princess screamed-

“I- am not- your sister!”

The woman slammed the shield with every blow, the force of each stronger than the last. Wonder Woman blocked as best she could, angling with the impact, deflecting the force off to the side as she maneuvered for leverage. She had fought enough brutes in her career to recognize when they her foe was in the grip of a battle rage. Diana had no idea what sparked the other woman’s anger, but she could see her skill evaporating with every assault, each blow. She was hammering, intent on the kill. That would be her downfall- if Diana could survive.

Wonder Woman spun about as the Power Princess reared back for another blow. Diana dropped in her spin, kicking out with her sweeping legs to catch the other’s in heel and behind the knee. The Princess yelped, her eyes growing comically wide as her feet were suddenly swept out from under her. Diana whipped about, spinning on her shoulder to right herself, sliding into a crouch even as the Power Princess tried to whip around in mid air. Half successful, she slammed hard onto her shoulder, slapping the hard ground on Impact, trying to absorb the brunt, to displace the fall. Diana sprang-

Zarda gritted her teeth and heaved her arm up, even so barely blocking the warrior’s assault. Even through the sparkling energies of her force shield- designed to absorb such impact- she could feel the strength and power behind the blow. Wincing she shoved up and out using the woman’s own momentum to carry her beyond. Quickly Zarda rolled, spinning about in time to see the warrior land lithely, though skidding to a stop on her feet.

Behind her, the Power Princess could see the others battling just as desperately. Shape was literally locked in combat with the ‘other’ Squadron’s shapeshifter, the queer, grinning man in red, their arms and legs entangled like a mass of spaghetti. Skylark was in the air though the close confines of the Trophy Room kept her from fully utilizing her wings. Still, Zarda and she had trained often enough together in similar conditions, and even hovering Linda was quite capable of using her acrobatic and martial prowess to defeat the blonde woman that had chosen her as a target. The blonde was good as well, however. Zarda could see the slightest edge to her stance, the way she fluidly moved angling just so, easing back and bracing before moving again all the faster.

Oddly, Moonglow was barely moving at all- not fighting or so it seemed. To the untrained eyes at least. Zarda could see her lips barely moving, her fingers twitching as a purplish glow flickered lightly about her body. Her opponent- the woman in tuxedo tails and fishnet stockings was more active, her hands gesticulating as she muttered some incomprehensible language. Light flared between the two women. Butterflies appeared where moments ago a desk had been sailing through the air. Water washed down from the ceiling to douse a sudden fire. Magic-

Power Princess dodged as a golden rope sped past her face only to flop uselessly to the ground. She stared, wondering what it might have been too late realizing what it was. A distraction!

Zarda raised her glowing shield too late, bringing it to bear even as a slim arm slipped through her defenses. The blow caught her fully on the chin, snapping her head around with a violent crack, throwing her off-balance. The Utopian Warrior reached out to break her fall, only to see her hand land within the loop of the rope on the ground. The snare quickly wrapped about her wrist before she could pull away, the other jerking it tight and pulling her arm out from under her. Zarda slammed to the ground feeling her arm being drawn back even as she cursed her own stupidity. This warrior woman was far too good to let the other battles distract her so. Her own foolishness, and now Zarda would suffer for it-

She felt the knee driven into the small of her back as the Wonder Woman landed on her, straddling her. The warrior pulled her arm, she having the leverage as Zarda struggled uselessly. The other laid almost full on her back, pinning Zarda as she grabbed the Utopian’s free, flailing arm, dragging it back as well. She leaned in, hissing into her ear even as Zarda slammed her head back, wincing at the impact but smiling to hear the other’s grunt of pain.

“There is- no- need for this,” the woman snarled as she roughly jerked her golden rope wrapping it tightly about Zarda’s crossed wrists, pulling it taut loop upon loop. "We are not who you think we are! This is pointless!”

Zarda kicked, bucking under the other’s weight, but it was useless. Finally she felt the Wonder Woman’s forearm against the back of her neck, forcing her face to the dirty floor. Zarda cursed and snarled, gnashing her teeth as she felt the increasing pressure, kicking her legs against the tiled stone. Finally she felt fingers snake into her hair, jerking back. Zarda looked up through her rage to see the other hovering over her, her free arm drawn back, blood drooling from the corner of her swelling lips-

“I would not humiliate you further,” the warrior said and Zarda could see the sincerity in her eyes. Still, her fist hovered, ready to strike the final blow. “Surrender, sister…”

“I am not your sister,” Zarda hissed, adrenaline pumping still, but her rage and anger draining, no where to vent. “Still… I-“

Zarda felt the heat as twin beams of energy lashed out, splashing across the woman’s chest. Too late, and probably by habit her arms dropped into a cross to block the beams, but the damage was done. Zarda could smell seared flesh as the woman flew from her back, screaming with pain as the fires of atomic energy branded her. The Wonder Woman sprawled as she tumbled back, slamming headlong into the wall then bouncing to a heap right next to Nighthawk and the man dressed as a bat. Zarda almost felt sorrow as she stared at the still form, her gaze drifting to the Bat-man crouching beside her. He seemed shaken-

“Zarda?”

Hyperion was at her side, that same look on his face but more so. Was it love on the face of the Bat, or simple concern for a fallen teammate? Was that the key to victory? Still, it seemed strange for a group of villains calling themselves ‘Sinister’. Perhaps the Wonder Woman had been-

“Ungh!”

The moment lost, Zarda peered at Hyperion as he strained mightily at her bonds, trying in vain- apparently- to snap the thin golden strands. His face was twisted from the effort, sweat dripping from his nose and Zarda could see purplish splotches spreading from his own battle with-

“Hyperion!”

Too late, Zarda barely saw the lightning fast blow that slammed across her love’s face. She saw blood fly as Hyperion went sailing through the air, the big man that had struck him stepping up with the momentum of his attack. He gave her a casual glance and she could see the anger on his face, but then he just as quickly dismissed her. Being bound, apparently helpless he considered her no threat. His mistake-

Zarda kicked, spinning over and about, mimicking the very move that had been her downfall as employed by the warrior woman. Even bound Zarda was more than a match for this man, despite his apparent strength. She scissors-kicked, sweeping the man’s legs out from under him then just as quickly slamming the heel of her boot across the bridge of his nose before he even hit the ground. She heard the crack of bone as his head spun aside, he tumbling even as she righted herself, easing back to spring to her feet.

He was too fast though as again his arm shot out, his hand wrapping about her ankle in a vice-like grip. Zarda winced as he squeezed, fearing for a moment that he might actually break her ankle, then whooped as he spun her about. With a casual ease he flung her and Zarda cursed as she went skidding and skipping across the floor like a stone on water.

Zarda slammed into Moonglow’s legs, the impact not only knocking the mystic from her feet but breaking her concentration. Zarda heard her friend yelp in surprise as she fell, her momentum carrying her right through the doorway to smash through the far wall beyond in the outer hall, Moonglow tumbling behind.

Damn it, J’onn! We need you!

Zatanna

Zatanna gasped for breath as the woman fell, staggering on her heels as sweat stung her eyes, plastered her long, black hair along her face. A moment’s respite- barely- and one she had to exploit before the woman could regain her senses and renew her attack.

The magic was strange here, but Zatanna thanked the gods that there was magic at all. After so long in that odd, anti-matter space, and the time before at the end of everything where there had been no arcane energies at all- well…

It had been horrible. She had never felt so cold and alone since her father had died years ago. She could not imagine a life without the fires of magic burning within her. She could not stand viewing the dull drab world through the eyes of one that did not have the ‘sight’. She never wanted to experience that loss again- like someone had cut out her heart or soul. She knew however that she would have too all too soon.

This was not their world. She had known it the second she had stepped off of that queer machine, that cosmic escalator that had brought them to this mirror-world Earth. The magic was there, but odd, strange, and she had to struggle and strain, grope for every spell that she wanted to cast.

Still she had held her own. The other woman- Moonglow J’onn had offered- was well in tune with her planet’s mystical resources. Zatanna half-suspected that the mystic was indeed the equivalent of Doctor Fate rather than her own doppelganger; the Mistress of this continuum’s Mystical Arts and defender of the Magical Plane. Far out of Zatanna’s league-

But for a twist of fate…

“!peelS” Zatanna whispered, forcing her will into her words as she directed the mystical energies at the woman on the ground before her. Moonglow looked up, her eyes still blurry from her sudden, unexpected fall and the shock of being ripped from whatever fugue state she had been trying to achieve. Zatanna did not even want to know what the woman had been planning to do to her, but a simple ‘Sleep’ spell should do the trick if she was unprepared.

Zatanna cursed, watching as her spell splashed against the woman’s hastily erected shields, only a trickle of energy seeping through to affect the sorceress. Zatanna saw the woman’s eyelids droop, her face struggling not to stretch into a yawn as she tried to speak, to utter a new spell.

Zatanna eased back on her high heeled pump and swung her long leg up and about. The point of her shoe caught the woman under the chin, snapping her jaw shut with a clack as her teeth slammed together. Luckily the woman’s shields went up to protect her from any spell and she was not defended against a simple kick upside the head. Her father would have been furious- and proud.

The woman’s body arched back, the force of Zatanna’s kick actually raising her off the ground a bit. Apparently, like Zatanna, the mystic was not used to fighting physically. Luckily however, Zatanna had had simple martial arts forced upon her by two of the best. Zatanna stepped forward as the woman moaned, rolling over-

“!gag emoceb riA”

The woman’s eyes popped open as her mouth filled with something seemingly invisible. The air hardened, blocking her oxygen as it clogged her gaping mouth, spreading her lips wide. Moonglow raised her hands, though whether to claw at the gag or to attack Zatanna did not know, or care-

“!sdnob emoceb epaC”

Zatanna wiggled her fingers, directing the flow of the woman’s cloak already wrapped about her arms and legs, her body from her struggles to rise. The cape glowed briefly, and Zatanna thought for a second that there was more to the cloak than she realized, that the spell might fail. Then it seemed to bend to her will of a sudden, enveloping the woman and wrapping her in its layers like a mummy. The woman grunted into her gag as her struggles grew less desperate, less effective, the cape encircling her tighter and tighter with every wrapping. It almost seemed endless.

At last however it was over and the woman lay still. Zatanna could see the woman’s body heaving slightly, breathing, but with only her nose barely showing from the folds of her bonds she was helpless; her fingers trapped tight, her voice silenced, blind. Still-

“…peelS” Zatanna whispered again, touching the woman on the head and easing it to the floor as her breathing slowed and evened out. Fast asleep at last, Zatanna breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed, exhaustion enveloping her like a blanket…

J’onn!

Yes…

Firestorm

Ronnie Raymond was scared. Not of the fight of course, not of the battle raging around him. He was ready to fight, but…

But this was a different world, a different universe altogether. An entirely new and unique plane of existence, and what Ronnie Raymond- Firestorm- the Nuclear Man was afraid of was the things that he could not see. What if this world was too far removed from his own? Just how different was it?

He had seen Zatanna struggling with her powers and spells, and that had been enough to give him pause. Just enough to make him hesitate unleashing his own energies. Like her, he had been cut off in the odd, anti-matter universe. The negative realm had been far too weird for him to dare try and use his powers except at the extreme- and with Batman’s urging. He had no idea if what he saw- that Hydrogen Atom for instance- was actually what it was.

He was breathing, so there had to be oxygen, but what if it was slightly different? What if the air was just different enough, and when he tried to- say- form a block of lead around the big red-head that was hammering on Superman, what if that simple act started a chain reaction and blew up the world? What if there was something unknown and volatile in the air, something unique and dangerous to this dimension?

What if he killed them all?

Ronnie Raymond licked his lips, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the air on a myriad of levels, investigating every atom, every new molecule that he could see. Mentally he took them apart, sorting the base elements, identifying them all cautiously, slowly. He had to be sure, certain beyond a shadow of a doubt before he did anything less his desire to help his team turn to disaster.

Hydrogen… Oxygen… Carbon Dioxide…

There was something-

Ronald…

Something odd…

Ronald!

“J’onn?”

Concentrate, Ronald. Focus…

Firestorm looked to the Martian. J’onn J’onzz was on his knees, his body still ablaze as he struggled to rise. Ronnie could hear the fear in his mental voice and he could not imagine what it was taking for the Manhunter to push through the pain and the fear. Too, the little dragon-like creature was skittering all about, continually spitting fire on J’onn, keeping him aflame. He had to do something-

No! No- I am… fine… Pay attention. Watch… and I shall give you… what you need…

“But J’onn-“

Focus, Ronald! Look…

Against his better judgement, Ronnie Raymond focused, squinting as the imagery of some unique element to this dimension swirled before his special vision. He did not recognize whatever it was, though it did seem vaguely familiar, like-

“Kryptonite?”

No…

Argonite…

Black Canary

Dinah Laurel Lance cartwheeled across the floor, the sonic blasts ripping up stone and tile in her wake. She could feel the chips of flying stone and the vibrations set her teeth on edge as she cooed, trying to match the frequency and thus lessen the effect.

She bounced to the wall, then sprung back out somersaulting as the woman in the purple armor went skidding past on the floor and out the door. The flying songbird was distracted for just a heartbeat, concern wrinkling her brow as she watched her teammate crash into the wall outside and Dinah used that to her advantage. Flipping she turned her midair tumble into a flying kick.

The woman- Skylark- was fast too though, twisting as the Black Canary sped past, leg extended. The woman swung her arm, connecting even as Dinah tried to roll, tucking again, tumbling with the impact. Spiraling and twisting the Canary straightened out just as she hit the floor and slammed up against the wall with a huff and a wince. Pain shot through her shoulder as she looked up to see Skylark swooping in for the kill.

They were too evenly matched Dinah thought as her arms flitted about, blocking the other woman’s rapid series of blows. Their sonic abilities were almost equal, her Sonic Scream easily as powerful as Dinah’s Canary Cry, and both were at least resistant to the other’s assault. Dinah figured that she had the edge in martial arts, but the woman could fly and managed to use that to stay more or less out of reach even in the room’s close quarters. The twelve foot ceilings did not allow Skylark the advantage of full flight, but it was enough to make the Canary work all the harder to connect.

The Canary flipped up, kicking out in a sweep that just barely caught the woman in the chin. It was not enough to hurt really, but enough to drive the flying woman back a bit. Dinah landed and rolled away, coming to rest behind Skylark. She leaped up, drawing her arm back, ready to strike even as the other whirled about, the tips of her wings slamming into Dinah, throwing her off and knocking her from the air. The Canary hit, rolling with the force of the blow and righting into a defensive crouch as Skylark dove, her legs extended to ram with a double-heeled kick.

Dinah ducked and Skylark’s feet slammed into the stone instead. The woman was quick however and spun about even as Dinah launched herself forward, the winged woman’s spinning kick sweeping the empty air where the Canary’s head had been just a second before. Dinah tumbled across the room and rolled into a crouch again, but this time the woman was simply waiting, and watching-

“You’re good,” Skylark said, using the break to wipe her sweat-stained face.

“The best,” Canary said with a smirk, nodding her own respect in return. Skylark was no Shiva, but she could have taken the Huntress by now.

Skylark chuckled. “Pity you’re on the wrong side. We’d make a pretty good team otherwise.”

“Birds of Prey, hunh?” Dinah asked, smiling. She stood, letting her hands ease out at her sides. “Listen, we don’t need to do this. There’s been some misunderstanding.” Dinah tried to seem calm, unimposing and she thought she saw the Skylark relax, just a little-

“Okay,” the winged woman said, still wary. “I’m listening.”

“We’re not-“

Something small and dark whizzed through the air. Dinah barely saw it until the slim shape smacked Skylark in the temple, bouncing away. It was a batarang.

Skylark slumped back, her wings lowering her unconscious form slowly to the ground. Dinah saw a line of blood trailing down the woman’s cheek as she crumpled. The Canary turned and saw the Batman folding his weapon, slipping it back into the folds of his cape.

“Why-“

“We’ve no time to play, Canary. Take them down fast and we’ll sort this later.”

She was about to respond, but the Batman simply turned his back and moved on…

Plastic Man

“So then Booster says, ‘Let’s spritz old Mt. Baldy’s wardrobe with Ode de Skunk le Pew’.”

“Bwah-Ha-Hah!”

The man called simply Shape laughed loud and hard at that, despite the fact that Plastic Man had his arm wrapped tightly about the other man’s neck at least two dozen turns. Shape’s neck just seemed to keep stretching and stretching no matter how tight the strangle hold became. Doesn’t he have to breathe?

Probably not. Plastic Man didn’t.

Plas stared at the odd fellow’s face, watching as the big man chuckled, his joke rattling around inside the other’s apparently half-empty head. Shape seemed a simple man, but he matched Plas move for move, and as a result their arms and legs were stretched for yards, intertwining about one another and tied up in knots like the best Chuck Jones cartoon.

“You funny,” the Shape said, grinning as he squeezed. “Make Shape laugh!”

“I’m happy for you,” Plas said, grinning in return. It was just a bit annoying that he couldn’t seem to get the upper hand, though he had never had such a captive audience that was so easy to impress. Time to try something different-

Plastic Man stuck his thumb in his mouth and blew, expanding, his body blowing up like a balloon. He saw Shape’s eyes go wide for a moment even as he giggled as his limbs thinned and stretched, trying to compensate. He did, letting whatever his body was made of go limp to keep the balloon body entangled. Plas blew again, his goggled eyes bulging and vibrating as Shape started to guffaw again. He was easily amused, and slow. That was the ticket-

“Nice and slow, see…”

Plastic Man elongated his hair, making each strand spring up and stretch to attention, waving as he willed his face into strange, weird and exotic contours. Shape sniggered, watching as his limbs snaked out and around the balloon body of Plastic Man, holding him fast.

Plas went liquid, letting his body melt from the grip of the other man to splash across the floor, puddling then reforming.

“Wha-“ Shape said as he fell, curling and bouncing like a rubber ball. It was what Plas had expected, was waiting for-

Plas hardened, coiling into a spring and shooting up. he caught Shape in mid-bounce and carried him at rocket speed towards the ceiling. At the last moment he sent the balled hero up and out, pistoning like a pinball machine’s plunger. He heard the Shape yelp as he went careening off the ceiling, quickly ricocheting back down even as Plas shifted shape again. At the speed of thought he took on the shape of a bat-

“Batter up!”

He slammed into the spherical Shape and sent him flying towards the door. Quickly however the Shape unfolded, flapping out into a sail to stop his momentum. Plas was waiting for that too. He shifted into the shape of an arrow, launching at the thin, floating sheet of Shape.

There was a ripping sound as Plastic man pierced the other shapeshifter. Shape screamed, his body quivering as Plas yelled, “Bulls eye!”, his body molding and flowing again to bounce off the far wall as a spring. He twisted in midair, letting his own pliable form flatten and spread, flowing into a sheet himself, wide and red and tattered into points on one end- like a cape…

“Holy Bat Sheet!” he mocked as he dropped onto Shape, the man almost liquid as he tried to close the hole in his belly, his hands pushing his flesh back together. Plastic Man enveloped the other, stretching as Shape struggled, compressing every time the other changed, trying to adapt, getting smaller…

Smaller…

Shape screamed as something thin snaked into his ear. He felt pain, screaming again. He wet himself as he kicked in the shroud that was Plastic Man, not understanding what was happening or why. He started to cry-

“Don’t hurt Shape…

“Don’t…”

Plas heard Shape choke, his voice cutting off as something turned wet inside his head. Suddenly he just stopped moving. Plastic Man hesitated, counting, then slowly withdrew, reformed…

Shape’s eyes were wide and staring. Drool dribbled from the corner of his gaping mouth, his breath slow and labored. His body had reassembled, pulled back to something humanoid though soft and lumpy. He was barely moving, but alive. Plas stared down at the other and sighed-

“Sorry pal…”

Green Lantern

“You’re good kid,” the man called Spectrum said, but Kyle could not tell if he was mocking or not. Doctor Spectrum’s multi-colored suit covered him completely, head to toe and hiding his face. The only breaks in fact were where the glowing prisms were imbedded into the backs of his hands, and the stark white slits that were his eyes.

“Quite the imagination, Yessir.”

Was that a compliment?

They had traded energy ‘blows’ for awhile once they had squared off, but it soon became apparent that the room that the League had appeared into, despite its long size and high ceilings, was about to become cramped. Especially when two dozen-odd Metas decided to fight a Monday Night Raw Battle Royal! Spectrum had decided to play tag and took the battle outside somehow creating an opening in the super dense wall of the compound. He had flown through the hole, taunting Kyle to follow and Kyle- being Kyle- had done just that.

He was beginning to have second thoughts however.

As Earth’s Green Lantern, Kyle Rayner controlled one of the greatest weapons in the known universe. Mark that known because he was fairly certain that he was no longer anywhere in the vicinity of Kansas. With that ring, anything that Kyle might imagine became real- in a sense- a construct of both his imagination and willpower, fueled by a green flame crackling a billion light years away. Kyle, being a cartoonist and commercial artist often called on his artistic talents and a childhood immersed in comic books and Manga to create those constructs. Case in point-

Kyle was encased within a green, glowing suit of armor straight out of the best Japanimation that he could imagine; big bulky boots and gloves, shoulder pads a yard wide on either side and a demonic looking helmet. He held a verdant katana blazing with green fire in his right hand and a crackling buckler of energy was situated on his left. He did look impressive.

Spectrum on the other hand ignored the trappings, fighting in the raw so to speak. He was like Jordan in that regard, or maybe more like Alan Scott as he seemed to rely simply on his prismatic force field while creating giant hands and boxing gloves, a baseball bat or simply a beam of energy that sparkled like a rainbow.

Despite all that they seemed evenly matched, at least in power. This Doc Spectrum obviously had years of experience under his belt though, because no matter what Kyle tried, what innovation the man in the skin tight clown-colored suit seemed to be one step ahead of him, countering his best with ease.

“You must be the Sinister Spectrum’s apprentice or something, right?” Doctor Spectrum said as shot out a volley of short blasts that ripped through Kyle’s armor. The ring protected him, mending the rents but to think he had pierced the defense so easily- Was Spectrum playing with him? “You’re a little young to be the original. And Jeez, son… Why green?”

Kyle ignored the other man’s banter, concentrating as he willed a laser cannon to appear on the arm of his armor. He blasted quickly, wildly, but Spectrum simply flew up and about, easily evading his best.

“More power maybe? Your boss know something I don’t?”

Kyle knew that the man was trying to rattle him, distract him. Hell, it was a tactic Kyle liked to use himself, when he wasn’t simply talking to keep the fear at bay-

What a laugh that was. Kyle knew that Ganthet had chosen him as Hal Jordan’s successor because he dealt with his fear, supposedly had none. But lately, after all he had been through with the League, and on his own he was starting to wonder. It had not been that long ago that an other world version of Hal Jordan had almost killed him- and that had scared him more than anything. Would he ever break out of Jordan’s shadow? He was wondering that too-

A giant fist suddenly enveloped him and Kyle winced as pain shot through his body, his armor seemingly being crushed by the pressure.

“Best keep your mind on the job at hand, boy,” Spectrum laughed as he willed his twin prisms to double and redouble the bands of energy that wrapped about Kyle. Spectrum was cocky to be sure, but he had a right to be. He was damn strong.

“Can’t imagine how Iron Man ever had a problem with the likes of you- or your old man. I haven’t even worked up a sweat.” Spectrum swooped up in a wide arch, soaring higher and dragging Kyle with him as he taunted. Kyle strained trying to force the huge glowing fingers to separate.

“You could always just surrender, y’know,” Spectrum mocked as he finally stopped to hover about a mile over the island that housed their headquarters. Kyle Rayner could see the vast compound below, the remnants of a city spreading out beneath them. It looked like the Caribbean, the idyllic island, the blue seas and gently rolling waves. A nice place to visit…

“Nobody has to know, son. Just lower your guard and I’ll knock you out. Just a love tap, no harm, no foul, no pride lost. You gotta know you can’t beat me. Surrender…”

“Not- an option…” Kyle said through gritted teeth.

He concentrated on the ring, on the power within. It had not been so long ago since the JLA had been on OA. Granted it was an Oa at the End of Time, and the Prime Flame there had grown weak and corrupted thanks to the Time Trapper, but the power had been there just the same. Kyle had recharged his ring at the source- not that he had needed to as his ring did not ‘run out’ of energy as the older versions once did. It had just seemed right- proper. The Green Flame burned within, he could feel it. There was no way this arrogant ass could beat that. No way!

Kyle focused…

“What?”

Kyle Rayner, Earth’s one, true Green Lantern felt the first sign of hesitancy, the first chink in the armored fist that held him fast. He focused on that, concentrating, guiding his will to beat on that weakness, to push. He heard something snap, felt the fingers loosen just a bit and tried all the harder-

“Hold on now…”

Kyle burned, feeling the anger, the humiliation sometimes of forever being compared to Jordan and Scott, to Stewart… to Gardner for god’s sake. Kyle screamed!

The rainbow-colored fist exploded in a shower of light as Kyle Rayner burst free. But that was not enough. Green Lantern soared higher, above, his ring blazing as he fired bolt after bolt of verdant energy at the back-peddling Spectrum, his will and anger fueling the fire, his assault shattering the man’s shields as fast as he could put them up. Spectrum was good, but he was on the run now, firing behind him, on the defensive. Kyle pressed his advantage, forcing the other man down, back to earth.

The Green Lantern rained bolts of energy down on the fleeting form of Doctor Spectrum. The Doctor raised shields as he fled, flying in wide, swooping arches to avoid the assault, to no avail. Rayner was on his game, anger and pain driving his attack. He could feel the power welling in the ring, crying for release. Who was he to deny?

Kyle aimed letting his will explode…

Stanley Stewart, the Whizzer just had to laugh to see Zarda bound and on the floor of the hall, struggling to undo unreachable knots that held her arms fast behind her. She prided herself on her skills and abilities, yet someone had done the worst; not only beating her but humiliating her as well-

“Need a hand, Princess?” Stanley joked as he dropped the speedster, the Flash to the floor and sped to Zarda’s side. He had beaten the boy so easily that he had not even imagined that the others would be having a hard time. Apparently he was wrong.

“Shut up Stewart, and release me before-“

Zarda suddenly glanced upwards, staring at the ceiling as she cocked her head, listening. Stanley Stewart followed her gaze but he heard nothing.

“What-“

“Quiet!” she snapped, and he could see she was straining to-

“Mommy?”

Stanley Stewart whipped about to see one of Arcanna’s daughters at the far end of the hall. She was still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes, her teddy bear cradled in one arm.

“Katie…”

Stanley Stewart, Fastest Man Alive started forward to rush to Moonglow’s daughter, to take her away. Where was her father? Where was Maddy and Tina- his own family? Why was Katie wandering into the middle of a firefight? They all knew the drill- get to safety, lock the doors, and set the shields. He took a step and time seemed to freeze…

Hyperion screamed as the uneven block of Argonite suddenly enveloped him, appearing right out of thin air. He felt the pain as the radiation seeped into his body, sucking at his powers, his life. He felt himself slipping away, helpless.

It was the boy, the one with fire for hair. He had done it. He had wiggled his fingers and the world had changed.

His doppelganger stood before him- the Hyperion of the Squadron Sinister. His disguise did not matter; the blue costume, the black hair. He almost seemed sorry as he drew his arm back. Hyperion cursed, spat. He would not beg or surrender.

He would not give the bastard the satisfaction…

“Change… Back!”

J’onn J’onzz held the creature at arm’s length, trying to ignore the blaze of fire that had erupted about his hand, creeping up his arm. The little dragon-like thing squirmed in his grip, spewing fire and raging, gasping for breath as the Martian Manhunter shifted his fingers and tightened his grip.

J’onn winced, grimacing as a new gout of flame washed over him. He held his ground, blocking the pain, the fear- mostly.

He was shivering, shaking…

“Change…” he snarled.

The Skrull, Skymax appeared at the end of his arm, just like that. A swirl of green, as flesh stretched and morphed, scales and coarse fur receding with claws, the softer, muscular form growing, taking shape. J’onn J’onzz watched and wondered if this was how the others perceived him.

“This is pointless,” the Skrull said, gasping, not even trying to escape. His dark eyes scrutinized the Martian, and J’onn in turn nodded, staring back.

“As I said. We must seek a-“

Both men turned at the sound of the explosion in the outer hall.

J’onn reached out with his mind, touching the other’s, trying to ‘see’ what had happened…

Both men paled to learn…

They were winning.

Batman surveyed the battle scene, his keen mind quickly tallying the damage, assimilating the situation- all situations. Plastic Man had beaten his foe as Batman had expected he would. He was surprised that he had had to help the Canary, but the outcome was acceptable. Diana had beaten her doppelganger, though not quite as swiftly as he might have expected. J’onn had the upper hand with the changeling again, at least for the moment, but there were no worries there. The Manhunter knew his duty. Even Firestorm had done his job, aiding Superman in the end.

The Batman had been just a bit disappointed in Clark. He should have beaten his foe easily, he being the stronger and more experienced. Had he been holding back?

Zatanna had won by a stroke of good fortune, Wonder Woman’s unwitting aid. That was good. She was always a variable, but an ace in the hole as well. Still no word from Flash or Green Lantern however.

J’onn… Status on Flash and-

J’onn!

Batman heard the explosion even as the Martian turned, his dark eyes glassy and sad…

Kyle Rayner hovered over the hole that peered down into the Squadron’s Utopia Compound. He had not meant to become so enraged, but the man- Spectrum had been taunting him, somehow knowing just which buttons to push to get him riled. He had lost it, he knew. Letting the anger overwhelm him and fuel the ring, giving him that added push he had unleashed his power in a surge that would have made the Batman proud.

He had won, after all…

Doctor Spectrum lay in the rubble beneath the opening, the hole. He was out, and Kyle could see that his leg was shattered by the odd angle that it curled up under him. That image alone would have been enough to make him sorry- to make him retch. It was nothing…

The speedster- the Whizzer was kneeling in the carnage where the roof had blown in with Spectrum’s impact, Kyle’s attack- kneeling right in the midst of it. The woman was standing just behind him, her head hanging low, and even Diana was there. She was looking up at him in shock. He had never seen that look on her face before. There was a man too- just a guy with red wavy hair and a beard, dressed in his pajamas. He was kneeling in front of the Whizzer as the speedster handed him the still, broken body of the little girl…

Kyle felt his heart swell up, rising into his throat threatening to choke him. His vision was getting blurry, clogged with tears. His will power wavered and he almost fell.

He had not meant…

He did not know…

The man with the beard was wailing now as the Whizzer stood. He cradled the shattered body, his hands gently brushing the fine golden hair from the dusty, bloody face. The little head lolled at an odd angle, the girl’s arms and legs twisted and limp-

“Phillip…”

The speedster put his hand comfortingly on the man’s shoulder, but the man- the girl’s father simply shrugged it off, holding the body tighter, whimpering her name over and over…

“Katie…”

Kyle drifted down.

“I- I’m sorry… I-“

He did not even see the Whizzer move, but as soon as he was within reach he felt the man’s fists battering at his shields. The ring protected him for the most part, but he could still feel the force and fury behind the man’s blows as he battered and batted. He could feel the pain-

“Bastardthatcouldhavebeenmydaughtersonofabitchkillyoudammitkillyou!”

Kyle fell to the floor and the man was on top of him, his fists a black and orange blur, his body all but invisible as he hammered, kicking and punching. Only his face remained clear and distinct, tears streaming down his face-

“Sorry… I’m sor-“

The room erupted in a glow of pink.

Kyle heard J’onn’s scream as his ring blazed, enveloping him in a stronger shield. Blood splattered as the Whizzer’s fists became raw, his gloves ripping, his hands cracking as bone’s popped and snapped. Kyle Rayner ignored it. He ignored the startled gasps and the sudden surge as friend and foe alike crowded, spilled out of the doorway to stare at the strange light sparkling in the hallway.

It was a pinprick at first, blazing, and a brilliance that eventually swirled and coalesced, taking on form. It hovered over the scene, the carnage, the death, taking form and becoming solid. No one moved or spoke. They barely breathed…

The child looked down at the man, cradling the dead child. He was young looking, not five or six at the most with a wild mane of red hair and a soft glowing face. A child full of wonder, so perfect and pure, innocent. Kyle could see the resemblance to the red-haired man, vaguely, but the child’s eyes were golden, blazing and golden, full of awareness.

FATHER…

The child’s voice was high-pitched and rich, full of youth but booming just the same. The red-bearded man looked up, his eyes rimmed red with tears-

“Benjamin…”

I FELT HER PAIN. HEARD HER SCREAM, HER DEATH GASP. I HAD TO COME.

The child drifted down, his arms outstretched to accept the little girl. The bearded man hugged her close, then finally nodded. He held the lifeless, broken body out at arm’s length and the child took it.

THERE IS NOTHING I MIGHT DO. SHE HAS FLED. I AM SORRY, FATHER…

The boy, Benjamin turned to Kyle then, and the Green Lantern felt his balls shrivel at the look of pure hatred.

YOU HAVE KILLED MY SISTER!

The child’s voice echoed throughout the hallway, the room beyond. Kyle felt the fear then and there- for the first time. He was dead, he knew…

YOU CAUSED MY SISTER TO DIE, AND YOU WILL PAY! I’LL MAKE YOU-

“It- it was an accident!” Kyle said backing away. “I didn’t mean-“

Batman was there at his side as Superman flew forward. Faster than a speeding bullet. Fast as lightning, he shot past, right through the child, slamming through the thick stone walls beyond. Kyle saw Diana struggling to her feet-

“Stop. This is wrong…”

And J’onn. Kyle could hear the Martian screaming mentally, trying to make the child hear.

“Stop!”

All heads turned at the sound of the voice, both Squadron and League alike. There was a man there, dressed in a long, flowing coat detailed with strange markings, a wide-brimmed hat that cast his face in shadows. Everyone seemed to hesitate, even the child as a golden fire crackled about his eyes.

“Lightner-“ the Power Princess whispered as she continued to struggle with her bonds. The man looked at her-

“Once that was my name, as I have told you before. Things have changed and the world has moved on. Now and forever, I am Mysterium…

“This travesty has gone on long enough,” he said looking to the broken girl in the child’s arms. “Too long. It must end.”

IT WILL, ANTITHESIS, MY OTHER.

The golden child turned to the League, those that had finally gathered in the hallway. They were battered and bruised all, some unconscious, bleeding. They were ready to battle-

YOU SHALL PAY!

The child raised his spindly arms and Kyle saw a spattering glow of pinkish flame sparking along his frame. There was a rush of air, and he heard his ears pop, sweat rolling down his back and face. The air seemed to rip and coruscating pink energy crackled forth-

There was a flash…

Epilogue

Hyperion stood staring at the wreckage, the place in the hallway where the roof had caved in. Shape was sitting in the corner, tears in his eyes as he rubbed at the swollen pink stain on his chest. Joe was moving the rubble out with his prism. Stan was gone, with his wife and daughter. Phillip was holding his wife’s still sleeping form. They had taken his daughter’s body away. He would have to tell Arcanna. Tell her they had lost another child-

“There was nothing to do,” Zarda said putting a hand on his shoulder, finally free of the golden bonds as they had mysteriously vanished along with the Wonder Woman. “It happened so fast. Unexpected-“

“We tried,” Neal said, staring at the blood-spattered floor. “That’s all we could do.”

Linda was in the Infirmary, Skymax tending to her wounds, the concussion. Mysterium turned, his coat billowing with his movements.

“Where are they?”

“They are gone, Mark Milton. Benjamin has sent them on their way.”

Hyperion stared at the man called Mysterium. Once he was called the Nth Man, and he had used his cosmic powers to destroy entire universes. He had made a pact with Benjamin Jones however, Arcanna’s son; he taking the latent magical abilities of the child as his own, the boy taking on his own powers and destiny to alter fate. It had seemed a fair trade at first. Apparently Benjamin had heard his sister die and come home.

“Where? Where are they? Did he send them home?” Hyperion asked, clenching his fists. He wanted revenge for what they had done- the Squadron Sinister!

Mysterium shook his head. “Not home…

“Where Katherine’s death will be avenged. Where they belong…”

Next Issue: Head on over to M2K for the next chapter! If you think that the JLA had it bad taking on the Squadron Supreme, wait until you see how the Avengers handle the Crime Syndicate of Amerika!

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