JLU 2001 Fanfiction

EARTH ONE:
The Watchtower
22,300 Miles and counting…

Wally West felt the old familiar sensation. One that he had hoped he would never have to experience again. Fat chance. They always sucked you back in eventually.

He stood, waiting for his stomach to settle and his eyes to adjust to the new energy efficient lighting. It had been awhile, months really since he had last endured the after effects of the teleporter, and even back then he had been so used to the unsettling lurch of having his molecules ripped from the Speed Force and rearranged for transport then reassembled- hopefully correctly- that he hardly noticed the obligatory nausea and slight dizziness. Now however, after so long it hit him again like the first time, and he hoped he had come through the transfer all right. Unlike Foghorn Leghorn, he did NOT ‘have his feathers numbered for just such an emergency’.

Finally as his vision started to clear, Wally stepped from the Transport Tube and into the Teleport Chamber proper. He felt the chill immediately, the station’s internal air always cranking a few degrees lower than general standards to accommodate the Satellite’s usual long-term occupant. Most of the League did not care or mind the chill, having the ability to compensate; Superman and Wonder Woman with their near invulnerability, Zee and her magic, and Wally supposed that Aquaman was probably used to the cold as well. As for Wally, he adjusted as he always had, vibrating his molecules slightly, just enough to agitate them and produce some warmth.

Feeling comfortable again he glanced about the room. Cold and sterile as always, ‘for efficiency’s sake’, The Batman had always said. Wally’s few attempts to liven the place up with a poster or a potted plant always resulted in the Station’s internal Cleaning Robots removing said touches almost immediately. It was like a ROOMBA, but to the ultimate power on the satellite, sterile and cold and with that hospital smell of disinfectant always lingering in the air. Just another reason that he was glad not to be here anymore.

Wally shook his head as he stepped from the Tube and raised platform, heading towards the door. He was a little surprised that no one was there to meet him. Of course, J’onn’s mental message had seemed urgent, more so than usual anyway, and as far as Wally knew the League was still floundering with maybe four members. One of whom J’onn said- Hawkman- was disabled and out of action.

Not totally devoid of concern, he had watched the News and read the papers. He had kept up on what was happening with the League. Despite what had happened, they were still his friends. And he did care. Hell, he had been happy that J’onn was trying again, and fairly certain that he had put together a good, competent team; the Martian Manhunter, Hawkman, Booster Gold, Fire, Meridian, Elongated Man…

Wally sighed. Poor Ralph.

Just like Kyle.

Just another reason that it had been so easy to leave, and stay away. He would have quit even earlier if not for Kyle’s urging him to stay. Hell, he HAD quit, but then the Bat and Big Blue had laid the guilt trip of Law and Order on him, threatening to actually mete out justice, like they were judge and jury. If not for Kyle backing him then and there, Wally figured they would have come to blows, and God knows what they would have done to him. He had no delusions that the combined might of the JLA would have taken him out without working up a sweat, despite his enhanced speed. They were just too powerful, and big.

And full of themselves.

He had knuckled under in the end, agreeing to their ‘Probationary Period’ where they would each take a turn playing Mother Hen, trying to teach him the error of his ways. Hypocrites. Like Batman and Aquaman don’t step all over the Law. Of all of them, only Superman, Wonder Woman and just recently Aquaman have official status as authority. The rest were all vigilantes really, grouped together and allowed to operate under a blind eye because most of the world could not deal with the threat of super-villains and aliens and extra-dimensional Gods that popped up on a regular basis.

Granted, Wally had a certain status in Keystone as well as Central City- at least he HAD. Same as Jay really, with the legacy of the Flash. Of course Jay Garrick was a true hero and duly deputized since the Forties when Roosevelt had created the All-Star Squadron to protect the Homefront back in WW2. Even when the JSA disbanded back in the Fifties the status had only been suspended, and as soon as the group reassembled and saved the world the team entire were heroes and special police again.

Now, Wally’s relationship with his home was tenuous at best. He had done his best during his probation to make amends for all the havoc he had created. How was he supposed to know that his enhanced speed was actually leeching the Speed Force from the people of Keystone? Wally West was no rocket scientist, or even a Police Scientist like Barry had been. He had simply thought that he had become more attuned with the Speed Force, and had used his boosted speed to help the people that he had sworn to protect. He had spent his every waking minute patrolling Keystone, stopping crime and potential crime before it could happen. And the people had been happy to live in a crime free state, or so he had thought. It was his interpretation of ‘crime’ however that was in question, and what had initially brought the League into the picture.

He had served his probation, grudgingly, but even before they had rendered their verdict the group had been swept up in the Time Trapper’s scheme to alter Reality, and from that they had been sucked into battling the Avengers. All of Creation was in jeopardy, and Wally was not such a criminal to know that he was needed.

And then Kyle had died, killed by some megalomaniac named Nefaria who had almost beaten both the JLA and the Avengers all by himself. They had won though, and the universes had been saved, and his decision became all the easier when the League as it was had disbanded.

And now J’onn had called him back. There had never been a verdict, so as far as Wally knew he was still on the shit list, but apparently the Martian Manhunter was desperate enough to forgive and forget. They needed him again, and go figure he had come.

Wally was a bit surprised that his aura was still impressed in the Station’s Security Clearance however. He knew that during his probation he needed a special pass to come and go from the Watchtower. Maybe J’onn had taken the time to imprint his old statistics, or at least reinstate them, because the Teleporter had accepted him no problem, and now the door hissed open as he neared-

And stopped short with a slight yelp of surprise.

“Oberon!” Wally exclaimed, looking down on the small old man that stood just beyond the door. He was a midget- a Little Person maybe depending on the month and fad of current PC. Regardless, Wally smiled at the sight of the little burly man with the gray, balding hair and the thick cigar hanging from the corner of his lips.

“Wally West,” the little man said stepping forward with his hand outstretched. Wally clamped down with his own, the pair shaking vigorously. “It’s been years, kid. How ya doin’?”

“Hanging in there, Oberon.”

Wally could not seem to wipe the goofy smile from his face as he stared down at his friend. Oberon had been the sort of Major Domo for the Leagues; JLA, JLI and JLE for years before that version had disbanded. Wally had heard that his friend had stayed on living in one of the League’s old embassies, Manhattan he thought, but like Oberon had said, it had been years. He looked good though, if not a little older with a few more wrinkles and a bit less hair.

“I’m surprised to see you here, shorty,” Wally said as the pair turned and headed deeper into the Satellite. “Things must really be desperate to call in the Third String.”

“Up yers, punk,” the old man said with a grizzled chuckle. “Gold an’ the Bug ain’t here. There are a couple old friends though.”

“Oh?”

Wally was surprised when Oberon turned from the Hall of Justice, where Wally had expected to be led, and rather headed down the wide, sweeping ramp that was used to move some of the heavier and larger pieces and parcels that the League received from time to time. Oberon kept up a running banter as they descended the sloping ramp, Wally easing into the little man’s pace with little effort as he had not really been over-exerting in the speed game for awhile. It was hard at times, like trying to stop smoking or over eating he imagined, though he had never had to do either. Once in awhile though the ‘Need for Speed’ would be too big to ignore and he would let loose, running across the oceans or around the Poles, well away from humans and the possibility of leeching away their lives.

Wally listened as they marched on, letting Oberon catch him up on the basically boring retirement he had been living for the past few years. Except for the occasional League member popping through into New York for convenience sake, and the monthly status report to J’onzz he had seen little of any of his old teammates. Same as Wally, though Oberon seemed a bit more sad at that than he did.

They passed through the Living Quarters, which were mostly deserted. Wally figured that everyone still had a room set aside, but he imagined that only J’onn and maybe Fire were actual residents on the Satellite full time. Once past the apartments, they passed the Galley and finally Oberon turned off the ramp and headed towards the hanger-sized room that housed the ‘Bulk Teleporter’.

“Why here?” Wally asked as his friend stepped up to the door, typing in a code that would allow access to the room that was reinforced and protected even more so than the rest of the satellite. Wally knew that most of the inorganic material that came via the BT was harmless; equipment, food, etc, there was still always a chance that one of their foes would slip something through security.

“You’ll see,” Oberon said, grinning about the butt of his cigar and stepping through the door. Wally shrugged and followed, his eyes quickly growing wide…

Deadman The World's Greatest Superheroes.....

JLA #41-
August, Year 5
by Curt Fernlund

J'onn J'onzz

Black Lightning

Hawkman

Fire

Mister Terrific

Fate

Arsenal

"Ad Infinatum"
Part Four

An EARTH 2 Event

EARTH TWO:
Calvin College…

Tatsu Yamashiro shook her head, trying to make the gray flecks dancing through her sight go away. Her head was ringing from the punch she had taken, that punch that had sent her sailing across the school room only to slam into the far wall with a stunning impact. She needed to clear her senses she knew. Harper would need her help.

‘Start small’ he had said. Little had they known what a problem the smallest member of the Justice Society would prove to be. Roy Harper had briefed her on the powers of the original Atom, along with a short history. She had never suspected that Al Pratt had been a College Professor, let alone a teacher of Nuclear Physics at Calvin College. From what she knew of the man as the Atom, he had seemed a street savvy tough that had been trained in boxing, but apparently there was more to the tiny scrapper than met the eye. Harper had gone on to explain that sometime in the Forties, the Mighty Mite had gained actual super powers, his Meta kicking in from a battle years before against an atomic-based villain known as Cyclotron. Pratt’s own natural abilities had been enhanced to an above average level, granting him super strength, agility and speed. He had become a force to be reckoned with, Tatsu was swiftly learning, despite the fact that the man was supposed to be dead.

The original Atom was one of several members of the JSA who had died in the ‘Zero Hour’ conflict while fighting the villain Extant. Like Doctor Mid-Night and Hourman however, the Atom was apparently restored and stronger than ever, not even feeling his decades old age and still packing his ‘Atomic Punch’ to full effect.

Still dazed, Tatsu forced her tired and aching body up on wobbly legs. She assumed a defensive stance, her katana to the fore as she scanned the battlefield that the college lab had become. She and Harper had hoped to simply speak to Pratt and had approached him at his job. The diminutive hero however almost immediately mistook them for villains, naming Arsenal as Shaft and she as Whisper despite their change of attire. He had attacked and the former Outsiders had defended themselves, retaliating against their sudden foe. A swift roundhouse kick had sent the red-headed professor over one of the school lab’s work stations, the scientist only to reappear seconds later fully garbed in his gaudy yellow shirt, weight belt and full blue mask and cape. Katana had wondered briefly if the Atom’s powers included instant change of appearance, but the thought quickly escaped her as the mighty Mite appeared before her and sent her sprawling into the wall.

She saw Harper still on his feet, having backed towards the doorway and firing arrows from the bow that he had appropriated from a Sporting Goods store the day before. The Atom seemed unfazed by Arsenal’s assault, striding forward and batting the shafts aside with a casual ease that might put Wonder Woman to shame.

“That the best ya got, kid?” the Atom spouted, his confidence soaring as he strode forward. “Green Arrow you ain’t. Heck, you aren’t even up ta Speedy’s class.”

She saw Harper’s hesitation at that reference. She could not recall just when Harper had changed his name, but apparently Pratt had no idea who Roy Harper was, or had been. Tatsu had no doubt that the same applied to her. That in itself could play to their advantage, if they actually had one. Seeing the Atom’s prowess, she had her doubts.

“Hardly, short stuff,” Arsenal retorted as he fired another arrow. As soon as his left hand released the bowstring, Katana saw it blur, his arm dropping and rising in less than a heart beat. He held a gun in hand, and she heard the rapport even as he fired.

And she was certain that the bullet struck, a crippling shot that hit the nerve cluster in the Atom’s shoulder. He barely staggered though, and she saw no blood even as she vaulted over the workstation. Was the Atom invulnerable? Harper had not mentioned that.

But he WAS fast. Before Arsenal could fire again, the Atom was before him, his right hand ripping the gun from Harper’s fingers none too gently as his left batted the bow aside and snapping it in half in the process. “Mommy should’ve taught ya not to play with guns and sharp objects, son.”

Katana did not even see the Atom move, but suddenly Arsenal was doubled over in front of the hero, staggering and gasping for breath. Katana lunged forward, foolishly perhaps, but Harper needed distraction. She aimed a leaping high kick to the Atom’s head.

He caught her ankle and simply tossed her aside. Katana flailed and flipped, trying to right herself as she slammed into the other far wall. She bounced off, barely managing to roll to her feet with a sore right arm and hip where she had struck the wall. She focused back on the battle just as the Atom slammed his elbow into the back of Harper’s skull. Arsenal crumpled to the ground in a heap even as Pratt turned towards her, cracking his knuckles in arrogance.

“Okay, girlie,” the Atom said with an obvious condescension, “my dance card just opened up.”

And he was in front of her before she even realized. Still, her own reflexes were honed above and beyond human endurance. She drew back, ready to strike though loath to draw blood. She knew however that a simple blow despite her skill would not be enough, even with the added weight of her blade. She was certain that the Atom’s intent was not to slay them, but if the situation warranted, could she say the same? She did not want another soul on her conscience, but she suspected that the fate of two worlds hung in the balance and that in the end she would be needed. She had to do what needed to be done, despite the consequences. She swung, hoping the trauma of injury would incapacitate the Atom, perhaps shock him to his senses…

And he was suddenly holding her sword.

Her hands throbbed in pain, his speed having ripped the blade from her grip too fast for her to even see. He was looking at the katana curiously, his head cocked to one side like a child inspecting a strange new insect discovered.

“What is it with you New Age punks, anyway?” he suddenly asked, looking up. “I sure do miss the days when it was just the thugs and gangsters that used guns. Villains like you had Buck Rogers ray guns or magic wands, exploding dice. Jeez Louise, lady, where’s yer imagination?”

Katana gasped as the Atom’s massive arm muscled tensed, then bulged. He was trying to break the blade! And seeing what he had done already, she was not so sure that he could not do it.

He grunted however, and even through his thick facemask, Tatsu could see the confusion that twisted his visage. He had truly expected to shatter the mystical blade that held the souls of her family, not knowing that that was deemed impossible, or so she thought. Katana breathed a silent prayer in her sigh of relief to see the Mighty Mite’s failure.

“What the heck’s this thing made of, sis-tAHHHH!”

Instinctively Katana raised her arms against the sudden heat and glare as the Atom’s cape erupted in a blaze of fire. He screamed and flailed, panic in his voice and she fought the urge to throw him to the ground and smother the flames. His body seemed to writhe almost, twisting out of shape as he rampaged, his arms swinging blindly as he tried to fight the apparent pain. Her mind flashed back to the earlier battle, when the Justice Society confronted the Outsiders and the woman, Blaze, had killed Doctor Fate in similar fashion. Why had simple fire worked against the supreme magician, and why now against the seemingly unstoppable Atom?

Before her questions were answered, the diminutive scrapper collapsed to the ground and she saw Harper with a fire extinguisher in hand. He sprayed CO2 over the burning form, tending the blaze to a smolder. She looked down at the Atom and gasped at what she saw.

At Harper’s feet was an arrow with a spent incendiary cartridge attached to the head; one of the special heads left over from his Shaft personage. At her own feet lay a misshapen form that no longer resembled Al Pratt in her wildest imagination. It was charred of course, but its skin beneath was a pasty grayish-white. It was taller than the Atom by twice at least, and where the small hero had been squat and muscular, this ‘thing’ was lean and gangly. Its head seemed elongated, and most strange, it sported a long, spiked tail that twitched and squirmed like a worm that had been cut in half.

“Glad that worked,” Harper said, dropping the extinguisher while rubbing the back of his head and wincing. “I had my suspicions, after what happened to Fate and Sentinel- the Green Lantern- especially when they both popped up again, alive and kicking despite our memories to the contrary.”

“You had suspicions?” Tatsu said, confused and flustered even as she retrieved her katana from the floor, inspecting it for damage that was not there. “What is that?” she asked, pointing to the twisted body on the floor between them. It was still breathing she could see, and was glad, but she needed explanation, and did not want to fight it, or the Atom again.

“That my dear Tatsu is the missing link.”

She watched as Harper knelt and dipped his fingers into one of the many pockets of the fatigues that he wore. He pulled out another cartridge and held it to the thing’s nose, pressing it to flesh. She heard a slight ‘POP’, and the creature’s slight movements ceased. Arsenal stood, twisting his neck and shoulders until they popped as well. “He should sleep for awhile now,” Harper explained, “if Batman’s notes are right, and of course they are. They’re more vulnerable when exposed to fire. Almost human.”

“They?” Katana said, exasperation creeping into her voice. “What are they?”

“White Martians,” Harper said, as though that explained everything. Of course to Tatsu it explained nothing. Harper must have seen another outburst coming and continued.

“When the JLA reformed in its incarnation before last, it was because of the Hyper Clan.” Tatsu nodded, remembering the group of alleged heroes that came from space with promises of Utopia. The League had eventually exposed them as invaders- White Martians she now recalled. “The JLA gave them the beat down they deserved, exposing them for what they were, White Martians that planned on reverting the Earth into what it had been millions of years ago, when apparently they lived here. That was before the Obsidian Age of Atlantis, before the dinosaurs and life of any kind. They were planning to wipe out all life, Humanity included, and would have if not for The Batman, who figured out just who they were.

“After the JLA beat them, it was Batman came up with the ‘perfect prison’. This is the part that civilization doesn’t know, but as I work for Checkmate, I’m privy to certain facts. Batman convinced J’onn to hypnotize each and every one of his people, turning them for all intents into humans with no memory of what they actually were. They were incorporated into society across the globe, from homeless in Manhattan to farmers in China to businessmen in England. And so it was for months, at least until the Wizard apparently gleaned that secret information. How I don’t know, but I do know that Merlyn, the Guild of Assassin’s resident archer and Shaft was sent out to track them all down and kill them somehow. That’s initially how I became involved, since the ‘deaths’ were by arrow. They all seemed so random that I never made the connection beyond that I thought that Merlyn was behind it. Why, I did not know at the time, but now it all makes sense.”

“Perhaps to you,” Katana said, still confused. She knew that Martians were able to assume any form within the limits of their abilities, but why would they become an ersatz JSA? It made no sense.

“Part of the Wizard’s overall plan I imagine. Remember, we figure he’s trying to achieve some world goal of peace here on Earth 2 that only he knows. Maybe that includes the JSA as they were. The Atom mentioned the villains with silly weapons back in the day.” Harper shrugged. “Before my time, really, but I do recall when things seemed less intense. When I was just a kid-sidekick, and even later with the Teen Titans. People didn’t die at the drop of a hat, and when they did it meant something. I dunno.”

“And there in lies your failure.”

Katana spun, raising her sword even as a hand crossbow appeared in Arsenal’s hand. Both whirled at the voice, and both surprised to see the tall gaunt man dressed in an old style black suit and tophat.

“The Shade,” Harper said, and Tatsu recognized the villain; the Master of the Darkness and Shadows. A member of the Injustice Society and one of the Wizard’s most trusted allies and confidants.

“I’m glad you did not kill him,” the villain said, not even bothering to hide his conceited smirk. “William would have been beside himself, what with current problems on his road to Utopia.”

Katana watched as the villain strode forward, extending his cane and poking the body of the Martian. He nodded. “The Wizard sensed that another had fallen. He's attuned himself to his 'Society' and takes great umbrage when one of them falls. No doubt he will consider that when he holds court over you both.”

“Holds court?” Harper said, his crossbow pointed at the villain though the Shade seemed unimpressed. “What are you talking about?”

Tatsu saw the Shade smile, and oddly the lights seemed to dim in the room. She felt a sudden chill. “You guessed the bulk of it, Harper. Just not the scope of the Wizard’s power and dreams. He wishes to recreate some dream world that only he recalls. Some past fancy that he remembers pleasantly. A world that neither of you are a part of, unfortunately.”

Tatsu Yamashiro saw the wave of darkness flow from the Shade, but there was nothing that she could do. Her sword cleaved through the dark as though it were empty air. Her vision quickly blotted, as her body shivered and numbed. Gray turned to black and the world fell away…

EARTH ONE:
The Watchtower
22,300 Miles and counting…

Somehow Wally was not as surprised as he had at first seemed.

In the back of his mind he knew there would be others. J’onn must have contacted everyone, but only a select few had answered the call. He had expected Beatriz, and he knew that Black Lightning had joined up recently, so they were no surprise. It was the rest that gave him a moment’s pause however, but as he looked about the vast expanse of the chamber that held the Bulk Transporter it all started to make sense.

His gaze drifted towards Jay and Max Mercury first. Maybe it was a Speed Force thing, or maybe it was the fact that the two were working feverishly and in a blur on piecing together a new Cosmic Treadmill. Wally watched for a split second as their after images came into and went out of focus, red and silvery blue swirling as the machine seemed to grow of its own accord. It was Max that paused first, the slower of the pair and smiled when he saw Wally as he wiped sweat from his brow.

Both he and Jay were at his side, suddenly by all appearances, but with Wally’s enhanced link to the Speed Force he saw their every move in labored detail.

“Hey, guys,” Wally offered, grinning. He had seen neither in months, and it was always a pleasure. Both were not only mentors and teachers, but dear friends. Max shook his hand quickly, and then Jay leaned in for a hug.

“It’s good to see you again, Wally,” the older man said with a bit of a rattle in his voice. “It’s been too long. Joan asks about you all the time.”

“Yeah,” Wally admitted sheepishly almost. “I needed time.”

“Karen’s well.”

“Yeah,” Wally said again. It felt awkward, and now talking about Power Girl. Karen Starr had left him after Linda Park had returned and Wally in his usual confusion had made a choice. Right or wrong had yet to prove out. Karen was doing well with the JSA though, of which he was glad. He wished her nothing but the best.

And then the others were about him. Fire, Beatriz De Costa was as gorgeous and voluptuous as ever. And J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter offering his hand with a wan smile. The Black Lightning came forward with the others, but he seemed different than the man that Wally remembered. And then there was Mister Terrific and Doctor Fate of the JSA, looking interested, but remaining on the sidelines.

“Wally,” J’onn said, snapping Wally West from his reveries. The smile was gone as the Martian looked down, his eyes, smoldering spots of gold almost hidden within the deep shadows of his wide brows. “I’m glad you came.”

“Hey,” Wally said with a shrug, “the universe stands to fall apart, I’m your man. Where are we headed this time?”

“Earth 2, kid,” Lightning said and Wally gave the man a queer look. Black Lightning was not that much older than him, but his accent and gait, his very demeanor did not seem as Wally remembered. When the man extended his hand with a wide grin, Wally finally realized why.

“Deadman,” Wally said, and Lightning’s head nodded.

“Lightning strikes again, son.”

Wally West turned to the Martian Manhunter again, a querulous look on his face. The Martian sighed.

“There is much to explain, Wally. While Jay, Max and Fate prepare to expedite our departure, I will attempt to explain as best I can, all that I know."

And as Wally watched his fellow speedsters head back to the treadmill, Wally listened…

And began to worry.

EARTH TWO:
Avalon…

Zard stared down at the pair of ‘heroes’ that stood before him. They embodied the last and final link to the past. That foul world that they had all left behind, hopefully forever.

Harper he knew. Speedy once, Arsenal now, he had been sent by Checkmate to investigate the alleged crimes and gathering of the new Injustice Society. As well as investigating the strange disappearances of seemingly innocent people all around the world, a minor flaw in Zard’s grand scheme. He had underestimated the intelligence of Mister Bones and his organization of the DEA as well as Checkmate in connecting various dots. His own fault really. The various defeats of himself as well as his teammates, both singularly and together was usually because of their own arrogance.

Zard had compensated however, and had made dealings with the League of Assassins. Whilst their premiere assassin, Merlyn would hunt the White Martians in their human guise- the lives that Batman and the League had imbued upon them in penance- and send them on their way, Harper would take the place of Shaft in the Outsiders. It had worked well, right down to the last.

Merlyn had tracked the Martians through the information received through the alliance of the Secret Society of Super-villains and Ra’s Al Ghul. The Demon’s Head had been instrumental in fact in the final outcome, synthesizing the strange otherworldly metal- Adamantium that he had stolen from the Avengers’ resident archer. A metal of surprising durability, that could pierce the hide of a Martian at least. And if said arrows were embedded with magic, both to initiate a transferal to Earth 2 as well as changing the imprinted memories of the White Martians in the process, all the better.

Merlyn had done his job, as had Harper, fooling not only the Outsiders but the obligatory heroes in the end. Now of course the one-time partner of Green Arrow stood bristling with questions, as well as anger. The woman on the other hand; she remained an enigma.

Shade had named her Katana, ironically one of The Batman’s original Outsiders. Or perhaps, coincidentally? She had infiltrated Zard’s group after all, disguising herself as a Ninja and calling herself Whisper. She had no personal motives that the Wizard could discern, which left only one conclusion:

The Batman was investigating.

That more than anything worried William Zard. The eventual intervention of the JLA and/or the JSA was a given. Too much of Zard’s plan involved crossing paths with the heroes, but as a whole they could be dealt with. Formidable of course, but they all had their weaknesses and Zard had contingencies in mind if not in place. The Batman however was a variable that could not always be planned for. Exasperating that the man had no powers to speak of, but could prove to be the greatest thorn in Zard’s side, the strongest threat to the overall scheme. The Batman was just too damned intelligent, and if indeed he had sent this Katana to investigate, Zard suspected that the World’s Greatest Detective knew all and was even now plotting the downfall of the Injustice Society.

William Zard considered the pair of heroes standing before the Society now. Captives of course, his magicks kept them at bay. He knew that both were still a potential threat, even bereft of weapons. The woman was a martial artist, and it had long been suspected that Harper had a latent Meta gene that allowed him mastery over any weapon as well as an almost infallible aim. Even if the young man was simply skilled, he was effective to say the least. And knowledgeable, with the resources of not only Checkmate, but also the Titans at his beckon call.

“A most remarkable weapon.”

Zard glanced aside to where the Shade stood, near the viewport. Silhouetted by the glow of the Earth, the man himself seemed naught but shadows save for the sword that he held in his vaporous hands. The curved silver blade glinted as he turned it ever so slightly, and with the simplest focus of his Sight, Zard could see the Fire within the metal.

“Cast and folded thousands of times,” the Shade continued, “strong beyond compare and a sharper edge I have rarely seen. And mystical of course.” Richard Swift nodded towards the woman, Katana and smiled. “A most remarkable artifact. Do you know its creator?”

“One of my ancestors,” Katana replied with an air of seeming boredom, an almost imperceptible shrug. “It has been in my family for many years.”

“And how many souls has it taken?” Shade asked, his gaze settling on the woman’s, locking darkly. She flinched a bit at his question, but her own gaze did not falter. She did not answer however.

“All well and good, Richard, though hardly important at the moment.” Zard waved slightly, a dismissive gesture and it was the Shade’s turn to shrug as he set the sword aside and leaned on the frame of the viewport to watch the proceedings. “Our main concern should be what to do with these two,” the Wizard continued as he scanned the chamber for reaction from his gathered allies.

Seated on his right, the Star Sapphire seemed unusually tense. Zard recalled favorably their time years past as members of the Secret Society of Super-villains, when she seemed a far freer spirit and more romantically inclined. Since he had saved her however, and brought her to Avalon, Camille had been distant if not often cold to his advances. Now she stared at Harper and the woman with a spark in her beautiful almond eyes that might almost be considered fear. Zard could not understand why, though now was not the time to address the situation.

Above the machinery; the monitors and computers that were his new home and venue, the Thinker hovered. Rather a holographic representation of the man’s visage, a vignette of his computerized head flickering with the flow of the information highway that he was now linked with. The glowing green face was unreadable, showing no sign of emotion beyond the occasional brightening of the eyes that seemed to indicate the downloading of some previously unknown information, which ‘excited’ the Thinker and caused a surge in energy throughout the station. Zard knew that so long as there were knew discoveries awaiting the Thinker on this new world, the virtual entity would remain, both content and loyal to the cause.

The others however were another matter. Like the Shade, Zard suspected that both the immortal Vandal Savage and the time spanning Per Degaton would only remain so long as their own interests would benefit. For Degaton it was the thrill and adventure of exploiting the Time Stream of Earth 2, and the potential for power that might result. The world that Zard had envisioned was like a malleable lump of clay to Per Degaton, to be molded to his heart’s content without fear of intervention and reprisal from the likes of the Time Masters or the Linear Men. That alone would keep Degaton interested- for a time.

Savage was a question regardless. Power of course was the immortal’s ultimate goal, and his quest to continue existence. It was Zard’s contention that on this new world of Earth 2 there would be opportunity aplenty for one of Savage’s caliber. The Satellite headquarters of the CSA alone offered power in the form of stolen artifacts; mystical talismans, foci, electronic breakthroughs…

Kryptonite!

Zard suspected that within the Trophy Room alone there were probably devices that would counter if not slay every hero of the original Earth. That alone should have enticed Savage to stay, but Zard could see the man’s eyes wandering, the spark of betrayal smoldering as he watched from his own seat at the council. Zard wondered just what tinder would be enough to excite that spark into a blaze.

And the rest were fodder. The Fiddler for instance unfortunately remained ineffective for the most part. The years had not been kind to their old friend, and he spent most of his time asleep, while his waking moments were often filled with the delirium of Alzheimer’s. Granted he was a power to contend with in his lucid moments, but they were few these days, and far between.

Both Brainwave Junior and the Rag Doll were neither a shadow of their sires. The former had power, true. His Brain Bolts were strong, as was his ability to create illusion, but the boy had been a hero and his heart was simply not as black as his father’s had been. So too Rag Doll. Psychotic, yes, but hardly the serial killer that the original once was. The junior Rag Doll was little more than a diversion should a fight ensue and otherwise unsure and cowardly almost, a true bully.

Only Nash compared to her father in ability and glory. The new Mist, the daughter of the first had her father’s powers and his perversity. She was not afraid to kill, though that of course was not their objective. Far from it in fact. Still, her abilities coupled with her focus made her a good and true member of the new Society. Her vendetta against Jack knight, the Starman kept her focused, and in check as well so long as Zard complied with their deal.

All were watching now, their scrutiny divided between the captive heroes and Zard, awaiting his decision, or simply waiting to see what he would do? Zard had wanted the Injustice Society to rule and act as one, but as always egos did tend to get in the way. And just what would he decide? Slay the heroes? Send them back to Earth One and let them run to the League or Society?

Zard had sent the unfit villains; Sports Master, Tigress and Icicle back to Earth One because of their savage ways and sociopathic tendencies. He knew that they had the arrogance of youth and would never comply with his goals and dreams. Better to simply be rid of them, as he had left the others behind. Johnny Sorrow, Rival, Shiv and the like all had helped forward Zard’s goals, but they were all also far too fickle for the final inclusion. Even creatures like the Psycho Pirate and Grundy had been considered, then excluded for their ‘mood swings’. Barring those from Earth 2 was simple enough, and the truest path to follow, but to send these heroes that same route might be foolhardy.

“Confrontation with the Justice League and Society was expected, if not inevitable. The appearance of these two simply expedites that eventuality. The question I must pose then is what to do? Send these two back as we have the Outsiders?”

“And the members that didn’t fit in,” Savage mumbled, but Zard ignored his grumbling.

“Slay them?” Zard continued. “That hardly conforms with what we are trying to achieve here.”

“We could always imprison them,” the Star Sapphire added. She seemed interested finally, Zard thought as she settled back into her seat, recrossing her legs. “We can put them with the CSA.”

“That particular prison is rather delicately balanced, my dear. Your idea has merit, however.”

“Sure, Zard,” Harper sneered staring hard at his captors. “Lock us up forever. That’ll work. You think Batman or Nightwing won’t eventually put two and two together and come looking for us? With friends?”

“Of course they will, boy. As I stated, it is expected. The only question is the when. I would far rather that it be at a time of my choosing, which is why the Star Sapphire’s suggestion so intrigues me. Your mentors and comrades will waste untold time trying to track you, and we can use that time to prepare.”

“All the preparation in creation has never been enough for you and yours before, villain,” the woman said. “What makes you think that the outcome this time shall be in any way different. The Justice League or Society will defeat you in the end as they always have, and always will.”

“The difference, woman, is that this time I have planned for every contingency. I have plotted and schemed for months, acquiring power for myself, and my associates. I have made deals with beings that you cannot conceive for the simplest of matters to ensure my… our success.” Zard caught the woman’s smirk and knew that the others had probably heard his slip of the tongue as well.

“It doesn’t matter, Zard.” Per Degaton looked up as though just awakening from a dream. His eyes seemed almost glazed as he looked to the viewport, his gaze causing the Shade to glance over his shoulder.

“They’re coming,” he continued, sitting up straighter in his chair. His eyes seemed to focus then as he caught sight of Zard. “Someone is, anyway. I sense the disturbance in the Speed Force, through its connection to the Time Stream. Someone is trying to cross over.”

“Time’s up, Zard,” Harper laughed. “If that’s the JLA or the JSA either one, they’ll lock onto us like bloodhounds and rip you all a new one for what you did here.”

Zard chuckled, though he still adjusted his Sight, scanning the captives and the mystical field that held them thus. Satisfied he glanced at Brainwave, who nodded in understanding.

“As to the first, boy, I have taken into account the powers of both teams; special sights, mental abilities, magic, whatever. Both of you are warded in various manners, believe me. As to the second, well, we shall see, won’t we?”

EARTH ONE:
The Watchtower
22,300 Miles and still counting…

J’onn J’onzz watched from his position on the Cosmic Treadmill’s platform as the three speedsters ran faster and faster. Lightning crackled about them and thunderous sonic booms exploded in their wake as they cracked barrier after barrier, achieving speeds that few in existence could rival.

Wally West was a crimson blur now, almost lightning incarnate as his enhanced speed left the two flanking him behind. He had donned his Flash guise and uniform with a mixture of reluctance and elation when he had learned that he would not be able to accompany the away team on this venture. Like his compatriots, Max Mercury and Jay Garrick, his abilities and powers were best used and needed here on the Treadmill to keep the way between the mirror universes open. A pity actually, but it could not be helped. J’onn knew that their abilities would have been useful on the other side.

“Wish I could go with ya, Green.”

The Martian Manhunter focused his attention back on the ghostly, astral form of Boston Brand hovering near the treadmill yet out of its sphere of influence. The Deadman had vacated the body of Jefferson Pierce as soon as construction of the Cosmic Treadmill had been completed, explaining that ‘Higher Powers’ had restricted him from going beyond a certain point. Another pity…

Your unique gifts will be missed, Boston Brand. You and the knowledge you hold would have been an asset to our cause.

“Yeah, well, hopefully I explained enough to give you a clue, son. There’s some bizarro shit goin’ on, and as usual it’s gonna drop on you an’ yours.”

Your analogy is both unpleasantly graphic, and true. Hopefully we shall prevail.

J’onzz saw the Deadman shrug as his attention turned to Doctor Fate, situated on the far side of the chamber. Light flared as the mage used his magicks to aid in breaching the barrier between the dimensions. The concept was the same as when the League had gathered these allies to pierce the Time Stream months ago to go on a quest to rescue Superman. Fate and his teammate Mister Terrific had theorized that this would be simpler than that as the final destination was another Earth rather than another time. An Earth that was all too similar to their own, though a dark mirror’s reflection.

Hector Hall, the latest incarnation of Fate glowed with a golden ambiance, representations of the Ankh- the symbol of his ancient power- bursting about him. He was in a trance as he gathered his magic, casting spells with the minor gesticulations and whispers of Magekind, devices known only to those of his ilk and forgotten almost immediately by those uninitiated in the ways of magic.

Still, J’onzz could sense the magician’s powers swelling, like a song rising in crescendo. “It won’t be long now,” he stated to all, but no one in particular.

“I don’t like this, J’onzz.”

The Martian Manhunter sighed and turned at the Black Lightning’s repeated statement of fact. They were all well aware of Jefferson Pierce’ reservations, to put it mildly. The man had not been happy when the Deadman had relinquished control of his body, and with good reason J’onzz surmised. In his years he had been the victim of possession, a helpless captive as well as a host for more vile beings than Boston Brand. Black Lightning however was a proud man who had apparently never experienced such before and was definitely not amused at what had happened. Anger almost to the point of hysteria had been his immediate reaction. He had cursed vilely and threatened to leave the League despite the impending threat of the Wizard. It had only been the combined pleas of all involved that had swayed him into remaining.

“I did not sign on for this. This cosmic BS is exactly why I never wanted a place in your League. Batman’s Outsiders was bad enough, but at least we fought for a cause that made a difference.”

“We make a difference, Jeff.”

Beatriz De Costa placed a comforting hand on Black Lightning’s shoulder and he almost seemed to relax just a bit. Fire smiled when Lightning looked her way.

“You can’t always see it, but the JLA has saved the universe like a billion times over. We do good, Jeff, and we fight for a cause too. This time it’s life.”

Pierce seemed to sag as he looked at Fire. J’onzz could feel the tension within the man easing somewhat.

“She’s right, Lightning,” Mister Terrific agreed. “I used to think just like you, that the world needed more heroes that were down to earth and in connection with the common man. Not heroes that were akin to Gods on high, certainly. But I stepped over the line even more so than The Batman or the League ever did. I abused my powers; my abilities and money, my position in society to try to effect an even more dramatic change in my immediate world. I can’t begin to conceive of how many lives I ruined in the process, trying to influence others and change them to my way of thinking. I thought that winning the little battles and altering those that my Outsiders defeated would make a difference in the long run. Worse, I had convinced myself, and the others, that it was the right thing to do.

“I was wrong. I realized that it’s simply too big. With the likes of Luthor and Black Adam, well, maybe there was a chance. But throw the likes of Darkseid or Johnny Sorrow into the mix- Hell, even the Wizard now, apparently, well, the League and Society are needed. And the likes of us are needed too, not only for the cosmic crises, but the simpler problems too. I’m just glad I got a second chance with the Justice Society, and I hope that I can live up to their standards and expectations, their trust in me.”

“Alright, alright,” Pierce said, waving away Mister Terrific’s speech. “You’re right. It all boils down to the same thing. Big or small, we make a difference. We’re needed to take on threats like this that the civilians can’t. But we had a deal, J’onzz, and I AM holding you to it!”

“I have not forgotten,” the Martian said. “When this is over, if we survive we shall investigate your 100 and do what must be done.”

Before anyone could add or dispute the Martian’s statement, light erupted about the platform and all could feel the effects of transition as the dimensional barriers began to fall away. J’onzz was the only one of the quartet that had experienced the transfer before, and even as he gripped the safety bar of the treadmill he urged the others to do the same. They did.

“Good luck, Green!”

He heard Deadman’s shouted farewell even as the astral form of the restless spirit faded from his enhanced sight. Fate was next, the mage’s body vanishing in the golden glow of his own power. Lightning crackled about them all, the ponderous explosion of thunder beating down incessantly. It had to be thus. The threat of replacement with their Earth 2 counterparts was too great despite what Brand had said; that they were trapped in a field of mystical force between the twin dimensions. They had to compensate for duplicates of Fire, Lightning and Terrific. They needed the freedom to stay on Earth 2 until the crisis was resolved without the fear that some villainous doppelganger would be unleashed on their true home.

He felt the Speed Force envelope the platform and treadmill. He felt the world slip away…

He felt the world under his feet.

Things had changed and yet oddly remained the same. He still stood upon the platform, as did the others gathered about him, but he could sense the shift in…

Reality? He was not certain.

The air was different. Not foul, certainly, but not pleasant either. He found the light offensive, like a slightly annoying glare that he wanted to shield his eyes from. The very surroundings were grating as he scanned the chamber that they had appeared in.

Not the equivalent of the Bulk Transport Chamber of the JLA’s Satellite, they instead stood in the Meeting Room of the CSA’s Space Station. So similar to the Hall of Justice, and yet, so different. A raised arch of chairs set above the floor rather than a table where all were equal. Strange machines flickered with light or clanged and beeped in staccato discordance adding to the annoyance. A huge viewport dominated all, the radiant glow of the Earth casting the room into a queer state. J'onzz shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, focus his attention.

“Hey, J’onn.”

The Martian Manhunter blinked and turned to see Roy Harper staring at him, wearing a smirk. He was dressed in fatigues, like the archer Shaft of the Outsiders, and appeared dirty and disheveled. Beside him stood Tatsu Yamashiro- Katana- looking little better. He knew of course that both would be here, somewhere on the planet, but what was happening?

“You seem confused, alien.”

J’onn J’onzz looked forward and up to see at last that he and the others were surrounded. He saw the Wizard in the chair of authority, flanked by the other apparent members of the Injustice Society, as expected. He scanned the opposition, looking at each in turn, until he finally returned his gaze to Zard.

“Is this the best that the League has to offer me, Martian? How pathetic.” Zard sneered as he looked at the JLA, such as it was. J’onzz knew that they were hardly equal to the task and opposition that confronted them.

“You’ve come a long way to be defeated, J’onzz.”

“Shove it, Zard!” Michael Holt snapped. “You’ve been beaten before, and you will be again. Right now!”

The Wizard smirked, settling back into his chair. J’onzz shifted his Sight, trying to see if any of those that they faced were doing anything on a subtle level. He saw that the image of the Thinker was simply that; a light enhanced representation. The Shade and the Mist seemed to be out of sync somehow, almost immaterial or intangible, but he could not discern exactly how or why. Brainwave was emitting a low level of mental activity directed at Harper and Yamashiro, but other than that they all seemed at ease almost. Arrogant?

“Mister Terrific. Terry Sloane must be spinning in his grave to see what has taken his place.”

Even as Michael Holt bristled at the insult, Vandal Savage spoke up. “Get on with it, William. The Martian Manhunter is not a foe to be trifled with- despite the lesser status of his associates. The longer you wait, the more he considers and plots.”

“Of course, you’re right, Vandal.” Zard turned again to the Martian. “We do not wish to fight, alien. There is in fact, no reason. You may take your two friends and go.”

J’onzz blinked, but before he could react, he heard Fire speak his unspoken question.

“What?”

“You heard me, my dear. Not a one of us wishes a pointless battle. I dare say that includes your group as well. Simply take your friends and depart the way that you came. We won’t stop you, and in fact will help you on your way if necessary.”

“You’re going to justice, Zard!” Holt shouted, taking a step forward and jabbing an accusing finger at the Wizard. Instantly a pink-hued bubble appeared around the heroes. J’onzz looked at the Star Sapphire, not Carol Ferris but rather a Vietnamese woman of exotic beauty.

“Thank you, Camille,” Zard said, reaching over to pat the woman’s hand. “Do note, alien, that it was your group that attempted a first assault. Star Sapphire is simply protecting us, and our best interests.”

“What is this, Wizard?” J’onzz finally asked. He was confused to say the least, and finding it hard to concentrate in the strange environment. Or was it more than that? he glanced at Brainwave.

“This is retirement, Martian,” Zard interrupted, his voice cutting through the Martians’ thoughts. He looked back to the Wizard. “We’re old men, tired of endless conflict and countless defeats at the hands of you and yours. I recently had an epiphany, and came into the possession of enough power to achieve my dreams and hopes and fondest wishes. I set things into motion to make my dreams come true.”

“Faust?”

The Wizard chuckled and held up a cane with a ruby-tipped handle. J’onn J’onzz stared at the crystal, his special sight seeing the magic and the tiny form trapped within the gem. “Indeed, my old friend Felix has been an unwilling accomplice for many months now. I won’t go into details, but he has been instrumental in the over all scheme of things.”

“And just what is that scheme, Wizard?” the Black Lightning asked. J’onzz could hear the impatience in the man’s voice. He was ready to attack.

“As I said, Mister Pierce,” the Wizard said, pausing just long enough to let the hero consider that his secrets were no longer so secret. “Retirement. You see, I died recently. I was a victim of Darkseid’s recent reality altering quest for ultimate dominance. I was a hero in his twisted world, for about a heartbeat. I was slain, but with death I was enlightened. I saw the world that once was. I saw all that Reality could possibly be; Marvelous counterparts to you heroes, a League of Kingdoms where knights and mages ran rampant, a future where animals ruled, a world that was simpler and the gray area that we all live was a more apparent black and white. That was the world I wanted to live in again. That was what I hoped to achieve through all of my manipulations.

“I admit that I twisted some arms and cut some corners. I made deals with devils and incorporated the underworld to see my dreams come to light, but in doing so, in achieving my goals I have aided you all in your oh so heroic quest.

“To start, blatantly, I have eliminated the collective threat of myself, and my immediate allies.” Zard gestured at those that sat with him, and J’onzz looked at each. They were all potent villains in their own right, or had been once as in the case of the Fiddler. He was somewhat reluctant to include Brainwave, but withheld comment as the Wizard continued.

“Granted, there are a few of my group that did not comply. Deal with those upstarts as you will, alien. I don’t care. Our purpose was to remove ourselves from the endless, pointless conflict. On Earth- our old Earth- we were constantly watched and put upon by you and yours. Here, we have achieved a new world that is by all intents and purposes better than what we found. Simply ignore us and we shall leave you alone.

“The Earth of the Crime Syndicate was at the very least a corrupt and foul place that was destined to destroy itself eventually. We have changed all of that. With our combined efforts we have eliminated the oppressive rule of Ultraman and his CSA. We have given the people hope. We have altered the environment to something that is not a choking and polluted corruption of what it should have been. We have made this world a better place with our presence.

“And we have eliminated another potential threat.”

“The White Martians,” Arsenal offered, and Zard nodded.

“In our efforts to recreate that world that I envisioned we had the insight to remove your kin, J’onzz, and bring them here. Through some hardship we have altered their memories- as The Batman did- into something of a benefit for us. Your White Martians are the ‘heroes’ of this world now, defending it to the best of their abilities as the Justice Society.”

“You’re insane,” Mister Terrific said.

“Not at all. I recalled the simpler times of the war years, when things were more apparent and clear. Life was not convoluted by the likes of the Internet and pornography and the endless, senseless array of television. The world was not lost to corruption back then as it is now. We as a whole simply wish to achieve those simpler, happier days, when there was no death potential in our battles. When there were no horrors of going to prison and being beaten and raped. When life was good.

“Think of it J’onzz. Your world free of not only the Injustice Society but the very bane of your own life. Oh, I will not lie. There are still a few of the White Martians on your world, but surely not enough to give the Gods of Olympus pause.”

There was silence…

“J’onn!” The voice of Beatriz De Costa cut into his thoughts as her fingers dug into his skin. “You can’t even be considering agreeing to what this madman’s saying? It’s crazy!”

“No,” Jefferson Pierce said. His face looked grim as he considered, then shook his head. “Not crazy. Zard and his friends went to some extreme measures, but the end justifies the means. We eliminate some heavy hitters from the mix in the ISA as well as the White Martians. If the Wizard holds up his end of the bargain that I think he’s proposing.”

“He can’t be trusted,” Holt said, folding his arms across his chest. “A leopard can’t change his spots. Once they get bored here, they’ll return to our Earth in force.”

“You say you’ve changed, Holt,” Zard replied. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, after all that you’ve done.”

“This is ridiculous!” Arsenal snapped. “J’onzz! What are you waiting for? He’s the villain. Take him!”

“No.”

J’onn J’onzz hung his head. His mind was awhirl with the possibilities of all that he had heard, but in the end it all came back to the same. Leave them alone and be rid of the Injustice Society and the White Martians in one fell swoop. If Zard was speaking the truth, and J’onzz could not feel any duplicity in his words. It seemed strange, but it also felt right somehow. He looked up, his gaze meeting the Wizards’.

“You will remain here. You and your friends won’t cross back.”

Zard shrugged. “I can’t speak for them, or say never.”

“We’d be fools to do so, Martian. Don’t you think?”

J’onzz stared at Vandal Savage and finally nodded.

“And the White Martians?”

“They are no worse off than the fate that The Batman had in store. A different world with different memories, they are actually acting the role of hero here.”

“What of Faust?”

“That’s not open to debate.”

“You have Jack Knight’s Star Staff,” Mister Terrific said. “We want it back.”

“Of course,” Zard replied and wiggled his fingers. The staff appeared on the floor of the Treadmill amidst the heroes. “We are through with it. And I am sorry for Ted Knight. It was not our intention that he be harmed. I hope he recovers.”

“The Spectre?” J’onzz asked.

“The final essence of the world that was is trickling through. Once that final transfer is complete, the Spectre will move on. Or so I was told.”

“And the CSA?” Fire asked and Zard chuckled.

“Do you really care?”

Fire stared at the Wizard for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess not, really.”

“So, is that it Martian? Any other questions?”

J’onn J’onzz stared at the Wizard long and hard, trying to sense his intentions, trying to read his emotions. He did not seem to be lying. Still, it was hard to accept. “No,” he finally said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He heard but ignored Harper and Yamashiro as they shouted and spat their protestations. Mister Terrific was less vocal, but he could sense the man’s emotions. He was against this. Fire and Lightning were a mass of confusion. It was for the best. It was his decision. J’onn J’onzz held out his hand…

The Wizard leaned down and shook the Martian’s hand.

“A pleasure doing business with you, alien,” the Wizard said as he settled back into his seat. “Now leave.”

“We’ll be back, Zard. Break this pact, cross the line and we’ll be back in force.”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment. Relax Martian, and enjoy.”

There was nothing left to say. The Wizard had stated his position and had been quite convincing. He was a villain, true, but his self-imposed exile would eliminate the threat of two major forces on Earth. There was nothing left to do, but leave. Leave and hope that the others agreed in the end.

The pink bubble of force dissipated, and then the magic that held Arsenal and Katana faded as well. The heroes gathered together.

“I’ll be watching, Zard. As will others," J'onzz said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Watch and learn, alien. There is a better world waiting.”

And again, J’onn J’onzz felt the world slipping away…

Epilogue 1:

William Zard breathed a sigh of relief .

“Well, that went well.”

“You’re a lucky bastard, Billy.” Savage smirked, crossing his legs. “If they’d decided to press the attack, we’d be done.”

“But they didn’t,” Swift offered. “William offered a good alternative to senseless battle.” Savage nodded.

“Agreed.”

Zard smiled at the praise, and turned to Camille to find her smiling as well. He sighed again.

“I was worried, I’ll admit. But everything worked out for the best. They’ll leave us alone now.”

“Hopefully,” Nash said, glancing up.

“Of course they will. What’s your problem?” Rag Doll asked, suddenly full of bravery.

“There’s always resistance.” She looked at Zard. “You should know that from your war. Maybe we got rid of the League and the Society, but there’ll be someone to take their place. There’s always someone.”

“Maybe.” Zard stared at the girl, watching as she started to take her handgun apart to clean it. She seemed detached and barely with them, yet her concerns spoke volumes. Would someone rise on this world to take the place of the heroes?

Only time would tell…

Epilogue 2:

“I can’t believe you did that, J’onn,” Roy Harper said as he paced the Bulk Transport Chamber. They had been returned to where they had left to find Fate and the three Speedsters awaiting their return. They were surprised actually that the away team had come back so soon.

“It was my decision. My call.”

“You handed Zard a world,” Harper continued. “He’ll corrupt Earth 2 until he becomes bored, then him and the White Martians will be back. In force and with his ‘friends’. Just a matter of time, J’onn.”

“Then we all will be here and ready for his return. I will inform all, and they can decide how best to prepare. The League will be ready.”

“There is no League, J’onn,” Wally West said, stepping up to stand beside Roy Harper. He almost seemed sad. “Don’t you see? You’ve tried, but there’s just nothing left. It never works without Supes and the Bat and Diana. No matter what we think or say or do, the rest of us are just second string. We do our best, but it’s never enough. Nothing ever lives up to their standards. You all showed me that.”

“I...” J’onn said, wanting to argue, trying to think of rebuttal but the images of Vibe and Kyle and Ralph kept popping into his head. Wally was right. The League was vast and powerful, but without its heart and core, the BIG 3, all of that was nothing.

J’onn J’onzz hung his head in defeat.

“C’mon, J’onn,” Wally said, his hand on the Martian’s shoulder. “Just let it go. If it was meant to be, it’ll happen again.”

The Martian looked to the others, all of whom seemed to be in agreement at last. What had happened? What had happened to the dream?

“Not to worry, J’onn,” Jay Garrick said. “The JSA will fill the gap for the duration. The world will be protected. You have my word.”

“And mine.”

All turned to see Hawkman standing in the doorway. He seemed fit, his muscles rippling as he slapped the head of his spiked mace into the palm of his hand.

“The world is safe, Martian. Rest easy.”

“I find little comfort in your assurance, Katar.”

Hawkman smirked.

“That’s why you fail, J’onzz. You have no faith.”

The Martian Manhunter stared at the assemblage, Hawkman to the Flash to all the rest. They were all friends and comrades, yet all seemed to think that the time of the League was over, at least for now.

Were they right? He did not know. They had won a decisive victory, eliminating two major threats in one fell swoop, but was it the right thing to do? He had no idea, yet.

“Leave. Thank you but leave. I’ll close up shop.”

And they did. One by one they all left.

It was over…

Done…

The Justice League was finished.

Again…

Ad Infinatum…

Prolog:

Grundy refrained from crushing the computer monitor within the folds of his massive fist. He was not a happy corpse, nor even melancholy. In fact, he was rather pissed.

“They gave up,” he grumbled, his voice rumbling like wood forced through a chopper. “I can’t believe it.” He turned to look at Rocker. “Your friends.”

“Hey,” Garfield Logan said, raising his hands in surrender. “My friends yeah, but I wasn’t there. Don’t blame me.”

“They abandoned us. They abandoned the world.” Owl Girl sulked, settling into her chair there in the stronghold of Grundy, the shack in the midst of Slaughter Swamp. No one said anything for a time as Grundy refrained from anger and adjusted the Web Cams that he had set up months ago, trained on the CSA then.

“Not their world,” he said, adjusting the gain on the audio on one of the feeds. He watched for a bit, then switched off the camera as it showed him nothing new. “I don’t blame them.”

“They’re supposed to be heroes.”

Grundy smirked. “You still got some high expectations outta people, girl, despite yer past. Heroes are human. They make mistakes.”

“Not J’onzz,” Logan said. “He’s like Superman Light. He doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Until now. Face it Logan. Yer on yer own. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.”

Solomon Grundy shut down the computer and severed the Internet connection. He knew that the others were not too happy over the sudden turn of events, but he had known and expected things to fall apart. They were all alone now, the last line of defense against the new regime. Unfortunately the ‘New Boss’ was the same as the ‘Old Boss’. The faces changed, but the intent remained the same.

“It’s all on us now. Infinity Inc. is officially up and running.”

“God help us all.”

Grundy looked at Obsidian and could not help but laugh…

To be continued…

Next Issue: The JLA returns to greatness as a NEW writer takes the team in NEW directions! Stay tuned...

Author's Notes
This is my last issue of JLA, at least for the foreseeable future. With the Conclusion of the 4 part Ad Infinatum, I hope that I leave options open for future writers to take hold and expand. All too soon, JLA will fall into the more than capable hands of Dino Pollard, who promises a long run of great stories that will return the JLA to its former glory. I’ve seen Dino’s prop (and approved it) and am looking forward to what he has in store. Rest assured that JLA is in good hands.

As to Earth 2, it shall continue. Plans are in the works for Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters to be set in Earth 2, and as hinted there will be some Infinity Inc. eventually. This whole thing is not random, and will lead to the next EVENT at JLU somewhere down the line…

As to me, I will be writing a few random stories here at JLU as well as trying to get caught up elsewhere around our community. I hope to get JLU back into something of a cohesive Site, without all the dangling plot threads eliminated. Hopefully I’ll have some help in that.

In the interim, watch for bigger and better things heading your way over the next few updates. JLU: 2001 is on the rise again! Brothers and Sisters Be ONE!

Thanks!

Curt F
EIC
JLU: 2001

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