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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:44:17 GMT
Continued from The Legion of Doom: ShowdownChapter 1: Ideaby Doc Quantum, partially adapted from Superman #137, by Jerry Siegel and Curt Swan Times past -- January 29, 1975: In those days, Neron prowled the earth restlessly, looking for a soul to devour. He had made his home in Hollywood for several years, wheeling and dealing in motion pictures to capture the public's imagination and slowly reshape the morals of society to something he could mold, something he could work with. Directors, producers, and actors were his playthings, and when he became bored with them, he simply moved on to musicians for a while. There was one actress he still remembered with fondness. Back in the 1920s, he had captured the soul of an innocent Midwesterner transplanted to Los Angeles, who had gone there with the intention of becoming a Hollywood actress without compromising her morals or faith. But little by little, he had managed to chip away at everything she believed in, until she had completely lost her moral ground. After she had accepted a deal with him, he had made her one of Hollywood's leading actresses, and all she had to do was perform a few key "favors" for influential men. But Neron had ensured that this star actress died before she could even begin to think of repentance. The game of corruption, with its endless twists and turns, could be very sweet, indeed. But Neron's thirst could never be sated. Besides, ever since the beatniks and the hippies had come along and taken over the culture, the game of corruption had become far too easy to win. These flower children and their ilk were all willing to try anything at least once. Where was the challenge in that? Where was the sweet, sweet guilt? It had forced him to realize that his work would always be more satisfying when it involved tearing down humans who had a strong moral foundation to begin with. On this day, Neron was wandering the earth listlessly, despairing like the mortals were wont to do over his lack of direction. He was a dark angel, a prince of Hell itself, but he would never be sated like his brethren in the pettiness of human lives. Some of his brethren who'd had similar ideas in the past had abandoned the sphere of Earth altogether to seek out corruptible life amongst the stars, though they were few in number. Most demons, principalities, and powers were effectively trapped on Earth or in their respective domains, after all, so that option was open to few of them. But Neron, who could still exercise the option of breaking free of this sphere, did not like the idea of giving up on humanity. After all, if he started his games anew on other worlds, he would be little more than a dilettante in those alien cultures and would lose the elevated status he had on Earth. Thus it was that he found himself walking through the wilderness in the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming at a time when the gods were battling. Neron had of course heard of these so-called "super-heroes" before, but he had paid them little heed. There were few of them in number, after all, and they seemed to be little more than a passing fad. Still, as he watched the two blue-and-red-clad superhumans shaking the very earth with thunder, he couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer amount of power that he was witnessing. Why, if he could harness such power, there was no end to what he might accomplish on this world. Making himself invisible and intangible, Neron approached the two brightly clad men as each threw everything he had into blows against his opponent. One of them was insufferably noble, Neron could tell. His soul was pure, strengthened by moments of pain in his past. This Superman had not been born on Earth but had protected his adopted world all his life, having been raised by two elderly parents who had passed on to him their customs and morals before they died. What a waste of power. Here was one of the last Kryptonians living in a place where his super-powers were at their utter peak, and his foster parents' provincial ways were still holding him back from using his powers more directly, even six-and-a-half years after their deaths. The other was a far more immediate prospect for Neron to work on, though this one had no soul to work with at all. No, this Super-Menace had the stink of another universe on him. Although outwardly he was a duplicate in every way to Superman, except for a small domino mask he wore, Super-Menace was neither human nor Kryptonian, but a unique energy being who had been created by a machine from the antimatter universe of Qward. Still, he had the same emotional range as Superman, and the pain and anguish Super-Menace now felt was almost palpable. Neron soaked it in, and as he did so, he took a glimpse into the energy creature's mind to discover the source of his most recent pain. As an energy duplicate, Super-Menace had lived a parallel life to Superman's in much the same way. But while Superman had been raised by loving foster parents, Super-Menace had been raised by a criminal termed a "public enemy" named Wolf Derek and his wife, Bonnie, who had been hiding in an isolated mountain retreat in Colorado when the duplicate ship bearing the duplicate Kal-El landed nearby. This faux Kal-El's first memory upon reaching Earth was being greeted by a hail of bullets from Derek's machine-gun, while his super-hearing was assailed by the wailing screams of his wife. The boy felt nothing but confusion at this time, knowing only that he had been separated from his parents on Krypton, and he sought the same kind of love and companionship from these wanted criminals on Earth. After overcoming their initial fear of the alien chid, Wolf and Bonnie Derek quickly saw the vast potential in raising a super-baby who could stop bullets, fly, and display impressive super-strength. They gave baby Kal-El the name of Clyde, and he wore a play-suit created from the blankets in his rocket that by fate or some monumental coincidence looked just like the one worn by little Clark Kent, the original baby Kal-El. In an effort to protect his identity if he was ever spotted using super-powers in the commission of a crime, the Dereks also created a domino mask for him, the first of several versions that he would wear over the course of his life. They also got him used to the alias of Super-Brat so he wouldn't tell anyone his true name if he was ever captured. In 1958, when the boy was eight years old, he and his foster parents were shocked to learn of the existence of Superboy, who appeared to be an exact duplicate of young Clyde Derek, right down to his spit-curl. By that time, Clyde's alias had been changed from Super-Brat to Super- Bully, and shortly after Superboy's debut, the Dereks had created a stretchable costume from the blankets in the rocket to look completely identical to that of Superboy's. Super-Bully spent a lot of time using his telescopic vision to secretly spy upon his double. None of them knew why he had a double, but they were convinced that Super-Bully was the original, and Superboy only his twin, or perhaps even a duplicate or clone. The Dereks spent twenty-three years raising their adopted son to adulthood and training him to become a super-criminal, using his impressive super-powers to operate only in secret. As an adult, Clyde's alias was changed to Super-Menace, and he became Wolf Derek's personal bodyguard and agent. Wolf was far too fearful of losing his influence over Super-Menace to let him stray too far from their Colorado retreat, but he did occasionally have Super-Menace commit brazen thefts halfway across the world that would never be solved by the authorities in those nations. Wolf also had his adopted son arrange for so-called "accidents" to befall several of his enemies, all in preparation for the day when Wolf would use the power of Super-Menace to make himself the crime king of the world. But Clyde Derek had little idea that, during all this time, Wolf and Bonnie considered him a freak and had only pretended to love him in order to capitalize on his power for their own benefit. It wasn't until several minutes ago that Super-Menace had overheard it all and learned that his entire life had been built upon lies. That lifetime of lies, combined with his eternal jealousy over his twin, Superman, finally overcame the vast control over himself that Super-Menace had cultivated. On this day, he came to this deserted spot in the Rocky Mountains and forced a showdown with his double. Now the two most powerful men on Earth were duking it out, causing worldwide tremors that had such far-reaching effects as causing violent earthquakes that hit cities across the world and even toppling over the Leaning Tower of Pisa itself. Neron relished every blow, every violent assault, that each super-being hurled against the other, and his eyes began to be opened to a whole new world of possibilities. Neron watched as Superman opened Super-Menace's eyes to his true nature. He was not the original, as he had always believed, but an energy duplicate of the original Kal-El. But that also meant that Super-Menace had no vulnerability to kryptonite as his enemy did. Super-Menace used his breath to pull in green kryptonite meteors like a vacuum to their location, immediately giving Superman a disadvantage. No, this would not do. Neron could not let Superman die, at least not until the plans that were rapidly forming in his mind took full fruition. Thus, Neron used his abilities to influence Clyde Derek's thoughts, bringing to mind Wolf Derek's boastful words about only pretending to love him all these years. After an agonizing internal struggle, Super-Menace buried the kryptonite meteors in the ground, far enough so they could no longer affect Superman, and returned to the Dereks for his final confrontation the criminal couple who had raised him as their weapon. Neron transported himself instantaneously to the mountain home of the Dereks in order to witness this encounter. Wolf Derek had just returned from his meeting with the Crime Lords, the leaders of every major criminal organization in the world, having just fulfilled his lifelong ambition. "I did it, Bonnie!" gloated Wolf, looking like nothing more than a puffed-up peacock to Neron's eyes. "I put it over! The Crime Lords have agreed to make me their king, after Super-Menace kills Superman!" " Haw! We'll be the king and queen of crime!" Bonnie Derek howled. Neron knew that this was a couple with a long history of strife, with no one but each other and their unloved son as company for decades. It didn't take much for him to nudge Wolf in a certain direction. The man was obviously prone to greed, after all. "What do you mean, queen?" snapped Wolf after a moment's thought. "Who needs you now, you old crow! Get out! There are thousands of young beauties who would love to be the new bride of the king of crime!" Bonnie was furious, ready to murder him, if she only had a knife or a gun handy. "You rat!" "Correction! You're both rats!" Wolf and Bonnie heard the voice of their adopted alien son, the object of both their fear and their scorn for the past twenty-three years. Dread pierced both their hearts, but they still thought they'd be able to get away with one last lie. Criminals were, more than anyone else, prone to self-deception. "I know everything, Wolf!" cried Super-Menace, having entered their home through an open window, though he had been sorely tempted to simply smash his way in. He pointed one finger at his old man accusingly as he spoke. "I know how you twisted my mind into ways of crime... I know you secretly loathed me, while pretending fatherly love..." "That ain't true!" protested Wolf Derek. The middle-aged swindler was grasping at straws, but he had to hold on to the one big lie he'd maintained for nearly a quarter of a century now. "I've always loved you, son!" "He's lying!" cried Bonnie Derek desperately, after another nudge from Neron. All she could feel was betrayal from her husband, betrayal to such a degree that it overrode her feelings of fear of their son. "He hates you! He told me so a thousand times!" Super-Menace took one sudden step forward, and the Dereks jumped back in terror. "Don't you lay a finger on me, you freak!" cried Wolf, feeling nothing but revulsion for his son, not only for looking like a fun house mirror version of the worst enemy of criminals the world had ever seen, but for being inhuman... alien... a freak. "Freak! Freak! Freak!" taunted Bonnie, her fear giving way to the same kind of revulsion. For Clyde Derek, this was too much to handle. As far as he was concerned, it was all over. Everything was over. Neron took the foothold he had in his heart and twisted it, leaving him with nothing but despair. "My life could've been a blessing, but you, with your rotten cunning, twisted it into... something terrible..." croaked Clyde. Suddenly, Super-Menace's form began to glow and expand as it turned into pure energy, a trick that he had never known he could perform until now. "I'll abandon this 'human' form, and return to... pure force! And take you two with me!" The truth began to dawn on Wolf Derek's face as the masked, red, white, and yellow-clad form of Super-Menace began to dissipate into streams of white, piercing light that felt like needles as they passed through his body. "Son, don't destroy us -- arrghhh!" "EEE-EEEE!" cried Bonnie Derek, and the sound echoed as their bodies suddenly vaporized into nothingness. Neron froze time at that moment and plucked the loose energy that had been Super-Menace out of the air before it could also dissipate into nothingness. He absorbed the energy like he would a soul into the jewel he wore around his neck as a pendant. The being known as Super-Menace was too valuable a prize to lose forever. At this time he wasn't sure what he would do with Clyde Derek, but he would think of something. And if he could somehow ensnare Superman at the same time, then all the better.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:45:45 GMT
Chapter 2: Plan
by Doc Quantum, partially adapted from Batman Special #1, by Mike W. Barr and Michael Golden
Times past -- June 26, 1983:
It was, in hindsight, a turning point for Neron when he happened to be in Gotham City at this time. He was watching the final showdown of two men who had trained all their lives in every useful discipline in order to become the absolute best at their chosen professions. In another life, Bruce Wayne and William Mallory might have been friends. Certainly they studied under some of the same masters, though their paths never crossed until now. As if driven by fate, the Batman and the Wrath were destined to clash only one time on this day, and only one of them could come out of it alive. Neron counted himself fortunate to have a front-row seat.
Ever since he had witnessed the clash between Superman and Super-Menace, Neron had slowly begun shifting his specialty from Hollywood celebrities to a new breed of celebrities -- the super-hero and their counterparts, the super-villain. He was the first fallen one to take a close interest in the superhumans, and although others had begun to take notice of this new subset of humanity -- most notably the demons three Abnegazar, Rath, and Ghast, as well as that ambitious amateur C.W. Saturn -- Neron was the undisputed specialist in superhuman corruption. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See Superman: Miracle Monday (1981 novel by Elliot S. Maggin).]
He had also arranged any number of clashes between super-hero and super-villain, as well as the occasional conflict between super-heroes. Whenever a super-hero's path crossed that of a super-villain's in what seemed an incredible coincidence, it was likely that Neron was somehow involved behind the scenes, whether directly or indirectly, influencing one or both parties into their inevitable conflict.
But very rarely had Neron ever found super-hero and super-villain to be as closely matched as Superman and Super-Menace had been, or as the Batman and the Wrath were now. There was, of course, the Flash and Professor Zoom, known as the Reverse-Flash, as well as Green Lantern and Sinestro. But even they did not share as many points of comparison between them as the Batman and the Wrath had. It was as if they were opposite sides of the same coin.
The Wrath had forced this confrontation when he abducted Leslie Thompkins, an elderly social worker who had resided in Gotham City's notorious Crime Alley district for the past quarter century, and held her on a rooftop as he demanded the presence of both the Batman and Police Commissioner James W. Gordon. The reason he had done so was to get his revenge on Gordon, since, as a younger beat cop while in the line of duty, he had supposedly shot and slain William Mallory's parents exactly twenty-five years ago on this night while they were fleeing from a crime -- or at least that's what Mallory believed. In fact, the identity of that policeman had actually remained obscured for decades, the files long ago misplaced and the inquiry over the deaths hushed up. It hadn't taken much for Neron to lead Mallory to believe that the young police officer was Gotham City's longtime police commissioner and close ally to the Batman; he had wanted these two equals on opposite sides of the law to confront each other just as he'd witnessed the confrontation between Superman and Super-Menace.
By some monumental coincidence, it was also on this very night, twenty-five years ago, that young Bruce Wayne witnessed his parents being murdered by a criminal. Both events had propelled the same-aged Wayne and Mallory along parallel paths, though while Wayne had chosen to become a vigilante who waged war on all criminals, Mallory's choice was to become an assassin whose specialty was killing troublesome lawmen. Neron thought the irony was delicious. Even he couldn't have planned anything better than this.
It was true that the Batman's costumed identity had come first. Mallory had chosen the nickname of the Wrath while operating as an assassin, but he had donned his purple and red Batman-inspired costume much more recently. Still, he had lived in the shadows for so long that not even the Batman was aware of his name.
So the unknown assassin costumed similarly to the Batman demanded that the Batman handcuff himself around an antenna on the roof to prevent him from interfering in his revenge on Gordon. Then, following his own code of honor, the Wrath let Leslie Thompkins go.
Then came the moment that William Mallory had trained for all his life, when he was finally able to shoot Gordon twice in his chest at point-blank range with a specially constructed pistol of his own design. It was now over. He had avenged his parents.
"It's over, mother and father... at last..." said the Wrath, standing triumphantly over Gordon's body.
The Batman, forced to helplessly watch the grim scene, muttered under his breath, "I knew it." Indeed, he was the one man out of all others who could understand the Wrath's motivation more than anyone.
"Now you can rest..." continued the Wrath, turning toward the Batman as he raised his pistol once more, "...and in a few seconds, so can I!"
Suddenly, the assassin was struck from behind, causing his aim to go awry, and he heard a shout. "No!"
"Gordon...?" said the Wrath, astonished that his prey was still alive.
"Get down, Commissioner!" shouted the Batman, who was lost in thought as he scrambled to take control of the situation once again. The assassin was supposed to believe that Gordon was dead, as they had planned, but now it would be obvious to their enemy that Gordon was wearing a bulletproof vest equipped with pockets of fake blood. If Batman didn't free himself and act quickly, he wouldn't be able to prevent Gordon's very real murder.
The Wrath struck Gordon down with the butt of his pistol, even as Batman freed himself from the handcuffs and opened the stairway door. "Get out of here, Commissioner!" shouted Batman, urging him to leave the roof. "This is between the two of us now!"
"Don't worry about him, Batman..." began the Wrath, beginning his attack, "...worry about yourself!"
Ensuring Gordon's escape, the Batman was caught by surprise as the Wrath kicked him in the face, then quickly followed that up by another kick to his stomach. It was only then that he began to realize he was dealing with someone who may very well be his equal. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
The next time, when the Wrath threw his fist at him, he ended up striking only the closed door as the Batman dodged the blow and drove his elbow hard into the Wrath's unprotected back, then struck him in the back of the head, forcing his face to hit the door.
But the Wrath wasn't stunned for long, as he proved when he kicked Batman in the shin, then elbowed him in the face, knocking him to the ground. Blinded by pain, Batman rolled away toward the rooftop ledge before the Wrath could strike him while he was down.
It was just as he'd feared. This costumed assassin was his match, not only in obsession, but skill. There was only one way to stop him.
The Wrath, having also come to the same conclusion, said, "But that's the difference between us, Batman! You try not to kill, but me... I've made a career of it!" His words were punctuated as he threw two shuriken -- Japanese throwing stars -- at his foe's head.
The Batman dodged them at the last second, only to find that the Wrath had closed the distance between them, and he took a solid hit to the jaw while he was backed up against the ledge. Gordon and the police officers below watched as the two nearly identical figures fought on the darkened rooftop, unable to distinguish the assassin enough to fire at him.
Kicking the Wrath away from him, Batman managed to crack a couple of his foe's ribs, but he knew that wouldn't stop him. Perching on the ledge as he prepared to strike, Batman confronted the assassin. "Half the force is down there!" he said. "You can't get away!"
"Don't count on it, Batman! You could--" said the Wrath, "--so I can!"
Just as the Wrath began pulling another weapon from beneath his cape, Batman launched himself at his foe, tackling him before he could use it. The incendiary bomb, for that was what it was, struck the rooftop ledge where Batman had been a moment before, and burst into flame. The flames spread quickly, threatening to take the whole building with it if Batman couldn't stop it.
The Batman was thus distracted just long enough for his enemy to strike again.
"Knew my bomb'd do the trick..." said the Wrath, pulling Batman into a headlock the moment he turned his head, "...one way or the other!"
Then the Batman felt a sharp sting in his side as the Wrath stabbed him. Using all his training to ignore the pain as the knife remained in his side, Batman elbowed his foe, forcing him to let go of the knife, and then tossed him over his shoulder.
But Batman had been forced to act quickly, without any planning, and his throw accidentally sent his foe directly into the flames on the rooftop ledge. The crowd below, which had joined the police in watching the incident, gasped as they saw one of the two men fall over the roof, dangling on the ledge as the flames burned around him.
Neron leaned forward, intensely interested in the outcome of this battle. His prediction had been right: only one man would walk away from his fight.
The Batman had pulled the bloody knife from his side, no longer able to ignore the intense pain, when he realized that the assassin was on fire and was just barely holding on to the edge of the roof. "Good God!" he cried, rising and moving toward him. "Hold on! Hold on!"
But the flames had spread, and there was smoke everywhere, clouding his vision in the already dark night. "Can't see you... follow my voice!" Batman said, reaching one arm out while he shielded his eyes from the smoke with the other, "Grab--"
"Too late..." cried the Wrath, his grip slipping as his flesh began to burn beneath his outer clothing. "Can't--!"
The crowd below gasped as the man on the ledge began to fall, and these Gothamites feared the worst, that their hero and protector was falling to his death, with no net to catch his fall. All of them feared that they were watching the Batman's last moment -- all but one.
A young woman with short brown hair screamed, "No!" as she recognized by the color of the man's costume that it was not the Batman, but her lover the Wrath, who was falling to his death.
A smile spread on Neron's lips as he took that split second to take stock of the situation. He had witnessed something very similar before, when Super-Menace had immolated himself along with his adopted parents after his battle with Superman was over. Neron had managed to save the energy-being that was Super-Menace; why couldn't he do something similar with the Wrath? As weapons, both Super-Menace and the Wrath were too good to let go to waste so quickly, after merely confronting their respective foes one time.
So Neron slowed the flow of time, at least from his perspective, and followed the Wrath's progress as he slowly fell to the ground. There were many ways of accomplishing what he planned to accomplish, but he quickly settled on just one. As a lord of darkness, he possessed many powers. Among those powers was illusion.
Neron allowed the Wrath's body to settle to the ground, but much more slowly than it appeared, and his presence was completely unnoticed by all those watching. As far as they were concerned, they saw a burning body hurtle at high speed to the ground, where it struck violently and continued to burn.
In reality, the Wrath fell to the ground slowly and softly, the flames over his body already doused by Neron. He lay there on the street, unconscious, even as the crowd saw the illusion of his body being burned by a powerful incendiary that would turn his head and upper body into nothing more than a charred skeleton. Certainly there would be nothing left behind to aid the police in establishing the mysterious assassin's identity.
The police held the crowd back, but the young woman with short brown hair, mascara running down her face, struggled to reach him. "No," she gulped as she beheld the fiery horror before her. "Let me through! Let me through!"
"Nothin' you can do, miss!" said one of the officers, holding her back.
Neron grinned as he spirited away the body of the Wrath, leaving in its place a mere simulacrum that, thanks to his illusion, looked like the assassin's still-burning corpse. This false corpse was the one that they would deliver to the morgue, and ultimately bury in a grave. Firefighters arrived shortly after to put out the blaze on the rooftop, and they also snuffed out the burning man.
He glanced over at the young woman who was weeping for William Mallory, and he realized that this woman had been the Wrath's lover. Her name was Grayle Hudson, and she had fallen in love with Mallory when she hired him to kill the man who had murdered her father, Gotham gang boss Big Jack Hudson.
Grayle and the Wrath had planned to retire after he accomplished his lifelong obsession to kill Gordon. But Neron knew how naïve the woman had been to believe that William Mallory would ever willingly give up being the Wrath. She had given herself over to an impossible dream, and even Mallory had made himself believe that it could happen. Neron knew better.
If he was going to preserve the Wrath as his own weapon for use in the future, he would have to get rid of this Grayle Hudson one way or another. Another smile came to his lips as he came up with a plan, and he gave a slight nudge to the old woman.
At the stroke of midnight, Leslie Thompkins embraced Gayle Hudson, providing the young woman with the only comfort she would receive that night. "That's right, dear, let it out..." she said reassuringly, feeling pity for the woman, no matter her background. "I'm Leslie Thompkins. Please, come with me... I'll do what I can."
Neron could already see her future as it played out. Under Leslie Thompkins' guidance, Gayle Hudson would go back to school and complete her medical degree. She had already intended to become a doctor before her father was killed, which had forced her into the family business. The Wrath's influence on her had already cemented the abandonment of her dreams. But now she would turn her back on her criminal past and become a medical doctor. The old woman would hire her as the resident doctor at the free clinic she would establish in Crime Alley, funded by a grant from the Wayne Foundation. Indeed, Gayle would find love once more, and thus move beyond the Wrath's influence by the time Neron would have use of him. More importantly to Neron's plans, she would have no further influence on William Mallory.
A few seconds after midnight, Neron and the comatose Wrath vanished back into the underworld.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:49:45 GMT
Chapter 3: Actionby Doc Quantum Times past -- May 5, 1987: The final piece of the puzzle, unlike the earlier two incidents, had been entirely expected by Neron. By this time Neron had implemented a number of other schemes, one most notably involving Samuel Scudder the Mirror Master and his Secret Society of Super-Villains, but Neron always had a few irons in the fire at any given time. Once the Scudder matter was settled, the way would be free and clear for Neron's next big scheme to be fully implemented. Neron had been following the career of Aresia, the new Dark Commander, ever since he had learned of her existence. (*) It was a pity that Diana, the original Wonder Woman, had been reverted back to the primordial clay from which she had been formed, for the Dark Commander was not only her equal in skill, but was also her identical twin, making her a close parallel of Super-Menace. (*) [(*) Editor's note: See Wonder Woman: Daughter of Mars and "Final Crisis," Crisis on Infinite Earths #12 (March, 1986).]Alas, Diana was now enduring a second childhood on Paradise Island, and her sister Nubia had taken up the mantle of Wonder Woman in her stead. (*) Neron rashly judged that Nubia would never live up to the reputation of the original Wonder Woman, but she would have to do as the Dark Commander's chosen foe. After all, the Dark Commander would balance out the powerful Super-Menace and the obsessed Wrath in ways that only a woman really could. [(*) Editor's note: See Wonder Woman: Paradise Lost and Justice League of America: The Final Chapter, Chapter 4: The New Wonder Woman.]But first there was the matter of obtaining the third member of his Unholy Trinity. Aresia was currently under the thrall of her lord and master, the god Mars, though not for long, if Neron's plan fell into place. Neron had been invisibly present at the first and last battle of the second Wonder Woman and the second Dark Commander. He had ensured that Aresia's injuries from the battle were severe but non-fatal, even thwarting the criminal-scientist-turned-Amazon-scientist Paula von Gunta when she tried to use her purple ray to heal their foe. It had been a true pleasure to watch as Paula, a woman of science, was completely flummoxed by an application of dark magic. That had been six weeks ago. Ever since then, the fallen and unconscious Dark Commander had lain in a bed in a coma while Amazon guards stood watch, letting no one but doctors in or out of her hospital room, the very same one that Steve Trevor had once recovered in. They could not stop Neron from entering the room, however, even if he hadn't chosen to be completely invisible and intangible. There was powerful Olympian magic guarding Paradise Island, so Neron had ensured that Aresia was kept on Transformation Island instead of the main island. He had preferred to keep the Olympian gods in the dark as much as possible; they had a tendency to be zealously overprotective of their worshipers, at least when outsiders were involved. Now Neron stood alone with the unconscious Dark Commander in the wee hours before dawn. He gazed upon Aresia, who still looked strong despite being bedridden for the last few weeks. There was no need for quick action, as in the previous two cases; the dark lord merely caused the life-support systems attached to her to cease working, then slowly caused her heart to slow until it was nearly imperceptible. Then, slowing down time, he was able to steal away the Dark Commander's unconscious body, leaving behind a non-living simulacrum. Once this was done, he resumed time once more and smiled as the life-support machines began emitting a klaxon of beeps and alarms that indicated the prisoner had ceased to live. The Amazon doctors, led by the former criminal genius Paula, rushed into the room a few moments later and did their very best to revive their patient. The simulacrum fooled even the brilliant Paula, since it was created by magic to display exactly what she or any other doctor would expect to see with a recently deceased corpse. This simulacrum would be buried under the name of the Dark Commander. As far as the Amazons were concerned, their prisoner merely died in her sleep. A moment later, Neron vanished back into the underworld, the unconscious Dark Commander in his arms. In the underworld, Neron placed his third prize along with the other two in his soul jar. The term was a bit of a misnomer, since it held not merely the soul of an individual, but the entire physical form as well. Those within the soul jar experienced no time passing whatsoever, since they were kept in a non-material substance that was actually a small part of Limbo itself. It was thus that Super-Menace, the Wrath, and the Dark Commander came to fall under Neron's influence. When they would finally be revived a few months hence, they would each be told that Neron had brought them back from the dead. It was a lie, of course -- lies were a kind of art form to this prince of lies -- but it would serve to bind them more closely to Neron, forcing them to depend on him. He needed such dependence in the leaders of his Legion of Doom in order to keep all the others in line. The idea that they would ever find out the truth about his scheme was laughable to him. *** The present -- June 28, 1988: Superman's Island had continued to float in midair as it always had since its completion six years ago. Except for a brief hostage situation in 1986, Mount Olympus Correctional Facility had performed exactly as expected during all that time, holding behind its walls some of the most powerful meta-human criminals in the world. With almost every contingency taken care of, the prison was impossible to break out of. Even its designer, Carl Draper, was a prisoner within these walls. As the Master Jailer, Draper had taken on Superman himself in a fit of jealous rage after the prison he designed had been nicknamed after Superman. He had always been somewhat mentally unstable, so it didn't take much to push the man over the edge. In the end, it had been his unrequited love for Lana Lang, whom he had known since they were in high school together back in Smallville, that had been the impetus for Draper to become a super-villain himself. But Draper had been a rather shortsighted man in the end, whose career as the Master Jailer hadn't really been planned out all that well. Certainly, for a man known to create intricate plans for traps, the Master Jailer had cut a few corners while starting his career. His costume, for one, had been consistently voted among the worst costumes in super-villainy in the annual polls published in the Underworld Star, a long-running periodical catering to criminals. Here was a man who not only had the potential to do great things, but who had already accomplished much. He had just never realized his own potential beyond his next scheme. On this day, he was about to be given another chance. The wilderness below the hovering Superman's Island was rattled this evening by three carefully timed, well-placed explosions. To the outside observer, the hovering high-tech prison could be seen slowly beginning to fall toward the ground, smoke and flames in its wake making a trail in the sky. To those within the prison, it was as if gravity itself had been switched off. Prisoners and guards alike suddenly found themselves floating in midair for a few moments, while a few men equipped with magnetic boots scrambled to restore anti-gravity to the facility. It was too late. Superman's Island came crashing down to the ground, flattening everything beneath it. The force-field surrounding it was intact just long enough to dampen the facility's inertia, but the prison's weight was far too great for the force-field to withstand it. And so those within the prison were treated to two crashes, the first one causing everyone within to fall to the floor, then bounce as it rebounded off the force-field, and the second one causing everyone to hit the floor hard once there was nothing left to cushion the prison's fall to the ground. Most prisoners and guards were left unconscious. The prison had been well-designed and well-built, however, and although the power had cut out a few times during the explosions and the subsequent crash to the ground, backup generators supplied enough power to keep the cells intact. Even the advanced computer servers had sustained little damage, since Carl Draper had built them with sudden motion sensors that disengaged disk drive heads from hard drives in case they or the facility they were in were ever dropped. It took only thirteen minutes after the crash before all prisoners were accounted for -- all but fourteen. Those fourteen escaped inmates included not only the thirteen remaining members of the Legion of Doom, but also the longtime prisoner Carl Draper, alias the Master Jailer. Much earlier, Draper had been contacted by Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame, who had sought to find a way to escape from Superman's Island. Speaking with him telepathically using the power ring, Malvolio made a deal with the Master Jailer to help the Legion of Doom escape from this prison in exchange for bringing him along. Draper had, in turn, outlined exactly what part each of the Legionnaires of Doom had to play in order to accomplish this spectacular prison break. Lord Malvolio, for his part, had already considered the usefulness of a man who could build perfect prisons and traps. He knew, from his own experience trapped behind a star-system-wide prison, how invaluable those skills could be. Already he had begun thinking about how Carl Draper could use his talents to serve the Legion of Doom. Now all Malvolio had to do was secure his own leadership of the team. Given the failure of the Unholy Trinity to kill the JLA, not to mention their closer ties to Neron, he didn't think it would be that much of a problem. *** Will Payton found himself floating in a dreamlike state, panic rising from within as he struggled back to consciousness. When he finally did, he looked around and found himself in a large cavern, surrounded by the unconscious forms of the Justice League of America. "I can't believe we actually made it," said Starman, breaking the silence. "But where are we?" Starman turned around to find out who had spoken. A moment later, the tiny form of the Atom, alias Adam Cray, made himself known. "Hi, Will," said the Atom. "Looks like the others are all still out, huh?" "I guess," said Will. "So, do you think this place is really what it's supposed to be? Are we in Hell?" "Probably not," said Adam. "Even if we are in another dimension with similarities to traditional descriptions of Hell, it doesn't mean that this is necessarily a supernatural realm, or anything like that. I haven't been in this business for all that long compared with the other JLAers, but I've seen super-villains use extremely advanced technology that looks like a mere stage magician's wand or a gun. I'd imagine you could make mythological beings and places with enough high-tech to trick most people into believing it's supernatural. As for me, I'm not sure I buy it just yet." "If you say so, but it looks awfully genuine to me," said Will. "So, should we try to wake up everyone else?" The Atom nodded his assent. A few minutes passed as the two young JLAers tried and failed to rouse the more senior members of the team. It was no use; they were all completely unresponsive. And one member was missing. "Where's Superman?" asked Starman, having thoroughly searched the area. "I haven't been able to find him anywhere." "I haven't seen him, either," replied the Atom. "You don't suppose Neron took him away, do you?" said Starman. "Superman always did have a weakness to magic, though I've never really understood why he's more vulnerable to it than any other hero with scientifically based powers would be." "I don't know exactly," replied the Atom, frowning in thought. "Professor Palmer once told me that what we consider magic may actually be a rare type of energy on the highest end of the electromagnetic spectrum. I'm not sure I buy that explanation, but if it's true, Kryptonians might be uniquely vulnerable to that type of radiation, just as they are to kryptonite in some of its forms." "So magic is just energy or radiation?" said Starman. "Tell me another one. I've seen real magic performed by Nadir, the Master of Magic, or his wife the Enchantress, back when I was with the Rehab Squad, and I've seen Zatanna at work, too. How could they manipulate energy the way they do magic -- by uttering incantations and such?" The Atom shrugged. "Maybe they're a kind of meta-human whose bodies are attuned to that spectrum of energy," he said. "Quantum physics would seem like magic to a pre-scientific mind. Maybe some people can transfer energy from another dimension to this one, and vice versa, making the seemingly impossible into possible feats. Anyway, as I said, I'm not sure I buy it, either. But I'm also not comfortable with the traditional explanation of magic, either. We might not be able to explain it, but that doesn't mean it's not explainable. Why, Professor Palmer even had his reservations about the energy spectrum idea. He told me that--" Adam Cray was interrupted by the sudden sound of weeping. He and Starman moved toward the sound, only to find Hawkman doing his best to comfort Hawkwoman. Both of them looked like they'd been put through the wringer. "Shayera, are you OK?" "We're fine," replied Katar Hol, though his voice was cracking despite himself. Shayera Hol, his wife, continued weeping, but in a more subdued way. Starman and the Atom looked at each other. If the typically stoic Hawks had been reduced to tears, what were the other JLAers going through right now?
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:51:24 GMT
Chapter 4: The Hall of Doomby Doc Quantum In a mountainous forest several miles away from the former site of Superman's Island, fourteen super-villains gathered at a prearranged location. "Nice work on the prison break, Malvolio," said the Wrath. "Now, as to our next move, I think--" "Not so fast, Wrath," replied Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame. The Wrath stopped and slowly turned to face the hulking alien with the power of the Green Lanterns. "It behooves me to point this out, but we haven't fared too well under your leadership." He glanced at Super-Menace and the Dark Commander. "Under any of the Unholy Trinity's leadership." "Oh, and you're going to take over, is that it?" said Super-Menace. Malvolio crossed his arms. "It's no secret that we've been put into an impossible situation by this Neron. It may never be possible to kill the JLA as he commands, and we may all fall subject to hidden clauses that will perhaps spell out our own dooms." "You're referring to the Falcon, aren't you?" said the Wrath. Lord Malvolio nodded his head. "I've been discussing things with the others, and we think it best that you three -- Neron's Unholy Trinity -- leave the Legion of Doom, at least until we can trust that you're not blindly loyal to Neron." At that, Lady Falcon sidled up to Lord Malvolio and pressed herself up against him seductively. "Well, I see it didn't take you long to find yourself another boyfriend," muttered the Dark Commander. "Don't be jealous, D.C.," said Lady Falcon. "Lord Malvolio is a real marvel compared to old Benton Beakman." "Do you all feel this way?" the Wrath said, addressing the group. "Do all of you wish us to leave the team?" The Legionnaires of Doom each gave their assent to his question with a nod of the head. "Very well," replied the Wrath. "Like you, I haven't been satisfied with the bargain I made with Neron. If you think you can escape the contract you each signed with him, then feel free to go your own way, and we'll go ours." He paused for a moment, letting the full weight of what he was saying begin to sink in. "However... if there's any doubt that Lord Malvolio might be leading you astray, and thus causing you breach your contract, then come with us." Super-Menace and the Dark Commander stood next to him on either side and looked at the others with challenge in their eyes. Lord Malvolio began clapping slowly, then stopped. "Bravo, Wrath. Bravo. But you've merely repeated what I told the others you'd say. We've made up our minds." He made a dismissive wave with his hand and said, "You may leave now." The Wrath stared the large alien down for a moment more, before he said, "Super-Menace." And the three disappeared in a moment as Super-Menace flew them into the air. A moment later, the remaining ten Legionnaires of Doom and their guest, the Master Jailer, flew off in a green bubble in the opposite direction. *** Superman was surrounded on all sides by a legion of souls, each one a person he'd been unable to save in the past. He was being tormented by many souls in torment. "Please, Superman! Let us live again!" said six passengers who'd died in a bus crash off a bridge years ago. Superman had been forced to let them die in order to save hundreds more who would've otherwise been killed on a damaged bridge. (*) [(*) Editor's note: See "The Day Superman Couldn't Save," Action Comics #580 (June, 1986).]"Clark, I was your friend! I had so many more years ahead of me! Please! Listen to reason!" This was Billy Cramer, who had been Clark's roommate at Metropolis University for a year, and who was one of the few individuals to whom Superman had revealed his true identity. Superman had given Billy a special whistle allowing him to summon Superman whenever he was needed, but on the day that he died, Superman had not been around to hear it. (*) [(*) Editor's note: "Terminus," Superman: The Secret Years #3 (April, 1985).]"Son, it's so cold here! Give us a second chance at life again!" cried Martha Kent, Clark's foster mother. "It was because of you that we went on that trip and contracted that fatal disease, so it's up to you to save us now!" (*) [(*) Editor's note: "The Last Days of Ma and Pa Kent," Superman #161 (May, 1963).]"You were able to save your real parents, Jor-El and Lara, so why can't you save us as well?" begged Jonathan Kent, his foster father. (*) [(*) Editor's note: See Superman: The Unkindest Cut.]"If you'd just been with me when I fought the Anti-Monitor, we could've defeated him together!" said Supergirl. "But you weren't close enough to help, and that's why I died! (*) Please help me -- help all of us! It's in your power!"[(*) Editor's note: See "Beyond the Silent Night," Crisis on Infinite Earths #7 (October, 1985).]Superman had pulled himself into a fetal position as he floated in midair, surrounded by shades from the underworld. And although he had closed his eyes and pressed his mighty hands against his ears, he still heard every word. It was the curse of having super-hearing. Neron was very pleased with his work. The world's greatest hero would be forced to make a choice between rejecting Neron's offer and losing all hope of ever seeing his dead loved ones again, or accepting his offer and forever being indebted to a being whose purposes were anathema to his own. The misery he had already engineered in the Man of Steel's heart was positively delicious, and the best was yet to come. Other Justice Leaguers were undergoing similar torments. Batman was confronted not only by the ghost of Kathy Kane, but also the many victims of the Joker and other criminals who had escaped custody time and time again. Only they weren't begging for a second chance at life. They were demanding that the Batman avenge their deaths as he had his parents, by ensuring that their murderers met the same fate as they. The Flash, alias Wally West, was having a long conversation with the original Flash, Barry Allen. Although Wally had always thought that Barry would have been proud of how he'd carried on his legacy, Barry conveyed only disappointment. *** Eleven super-villains gathered in a remote swampy region somewhere in the United States. "Yes. This will do," said Lord Malvolio. Turning to the Master Jailer, he said. "Draper, it's time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain." Carl Draper listened intently as Malvolio explained what he wanted. "What? You want a headquarters built here?" "Yes. And I want it done immediately, before we are spotted by anyone or tracked to our current location." "But you're asking for the impossible!" said Draper. "When I designed Mount Olympus Correctional Facility, I was given months for the design alone. The construction itself would take at least a year's time!" "You have eight hours," replied Malvolio. "I suggest you use your time wisely. And please, Draper, feel free to avail yourself to the various talents we have gathered with us today. We may not have a Kryptonian or an Amazon at the moment, but we do have my power ring, as well as a super-speedster, a Martian, and a magician in our ranks." "Yes, but I still don't see how--" "Ah, but I do," interrupted Malvolio. "Marshal? I believe your Martian mind-reading trick might come in handy right about now." "What?" said Carl Draper. "What do you mean?" "Just relax," growled the Marshal, placing his hands over Draper's head. "This won't hurt a bit." The Master Jailer's eyes rolled up, and he went into a semi-catatonic state. "Good, good," said Lord Malvolio as he began receiving images relayed from the Master Jailer's brain via the Marshal's telepathic link. "Draper, you're even more creative than you might think. Why, you've already got a few good designs in your head to choose from. But... I believe I like the one that looks vaguely like a black helmet in the form of what humans call a 'flying saucer.' Oh, and please make sure it's completely airtight and watertight; we need to be able to relocate at a moment's notice." *** Over the next several hours, the Legion of Doom used their various abilities to construct a new, earthbound headquarters for the Legion of Doom. Their tasks were assigned to each of them telepathically by the Marshal, following the design that Carl Draper had constructed in his head. With the Marshal's greater discipline over his thoughts, he was able to help Draper solidify the design even further, and go into even greater detail than he had originally. The first thing they did was to scale up the plans to make the headquarters the size of a hotel, expanding the interior from a simple open-room concept to a larger, multi-level complex full of rooms for various purposes. Design flaws were caught and fixed during construction, and by the end of those eight hours, the eleven super-villains were able to rest from their efforts and look at what they'd built. "It... kinda looks like Darth Vader," said the Blue Bowman. "Was that intentional?" "Well, I did design it back in '78, not long after I'd seen Star Wars," said Draper. "But it really wasn't a conscious decision." He frowned and added, "Damn. Now that I see it, I can't un-see it." "It is our own, and it is beautiful," said Lord Malvolio. "I can think of no better name than... the Hall of Doom." In order to enter the Hall of Doom, all visitors -- even those who could fly -- were required to walk along a drawbridge erected over a swamp to the closest solid land, then enter the single doorway. If there was any hint of treachery, the visitor could be destroyed where he or she stood through several methods guaranteed to kill even a Kryptonian-class meta-human. Layered force-fields barred entry into the Hall of Doom from any other direction. If it proved difficult to destroy an intruder, the entire structure could lift up into the sky and fly off at top speed, remaining essentially cloaked from detection as it headed to the next remote location. Thus the huge pillar upon which the saucer-like Hall of Doom sat was essentially a powerful rocket able to blast off at the highest speed possible from underwater. Once all expected visitors had entered the Hall of Doom, it was submerged beneath the fetid waters of the marsh, where it would remain well-hidden. During construction, Dwarfstar and Malleable Man had made a few disparaging remarks about attracting disease-ridden mosquitoes in this location, but they were quickly hushed; the others knew that they could accomplish much as villains united, and at such a time as this, a solemn atmosphere was called for. Within the Hall of Doom, the assembled members of the Legion of Doom now sat at a meeting table in the shape of a half-circle, with a podium set between its two arms. The Grand Hall, which they used as a planning room, was the largest single area within the building. In months to come, much of the Hall of Doom would be fitted with the most advanced computers and technology available both on Earth and beyond. The upper levels would be used for everything from living quarters to store rooms for stolen loot waiting to be fenced. Lord Malvolio stood at the podium and regarded all those assembled. Lady Falcon had proven to be quite a surprise, all things considered, and had offered him one or two remarkably sensible suggestions for a woman; he was looking forward to seeing what else she could provide him with tonight. Despite earlier being the object of ridicule, the Blue Bowman had a great deal of street-level experience as a criminal, as did Malleable Man, and both had several underworld connections that could prove valuable. Savitar, Allura, and Dagon each suffered from delusions of grandeur and would have to be watched closely, even as the powers they each wielded was put to good use. Dwarfstar and Mockingbird were both clearly on the verge of insanity, but still seemed loyal as long as a few bones were tossed their way every once in a while. The Marshal, with his myriad of abilities, was his right-hand man, but Malvolio still guarded his mind from the Martian to be safe. The Master Jailer with his inventive mind was a good replacement for the late Falcon, but he would have to constantly be reminded that returning to civilian life was no longer an option for him; his contacts from prison might be useful as well. Malvolio was still mildly annoyed at Kasta the Thrill-Killer's failure to do much except get himself killed twice, and never gave his now-deceased partner another thought from this point on. "You all know why we're here today," he said, addressing the team. "We may have been brought together by Neron for quite a different purpose, but we've all seen what is possible if we remain cool-headed and plan our actions carefully. It's only when our so-called 'Unholy Trinity' directed us into showing ourselves too soon that we were defeated. All of you are itching for a rematch, I know, but I caution you to think about what more we can do if we wait until the iron is hot to strike. We're a mere team for now, but think about what we could be if we grew our numbers until we were truly a legion?" "What about Wrath and the others, anyway?" piped up Mockingbird. "Aren't they gonna rat on us to Neron?" "They can play Neron's games all they like," said Malvolio dismissively. "If they wish to remain his puppets, then so be it, as long as they don't draw in the rest of us." "And the Justice League?" asked the super-speedster Savitar. "They know we exist and will come looking for us." " Let them," said the Marshal. "I, for one, can't wait to face J'onzz and his whore again." "Aquaman will watch as I ravage his wife and flay his daughter," muttered Dagon, "or perhaps the other way around." A couple of the others laughed at what they thought was a joke, but Dagon was apparently completely serious. "And I will finally destroy Zatara and his whelp!" cried Allura, causing sparks to fly through the air. "Yeesh," muttered the Blue Bowman, glancing at Mockingbird for sympathy, only to recognize a similarly deranged gleam in her eye as well. That's it. I've got to find another line of work, he resolved to himself. "That's not the way we'll be doing things from now on!" said Lady Falcon, standing next to Lord Malvolio. "Haven't any of you been listening? Playing games of revenge will only get us caught, or worse. The heroes are expecting their doppelgängers to face them. Why would we try such a flawed tactic again? Can't we learn from our mistakes? No, we will play the long game, and--" "Yes," interrupted Lord Malvolio gruffly, "I will give you all your chance to face the Justice League again, and we will feast on their flesh, and the flesh of their loved ones. But it will happen when I say it will happen, and not one moment sooner!" Lady Falcon quickly sat down, averting her eyes, and the others responded with silence. "Now, if that will be all, let us eat," Malvolio continued in a genial tone. "It has been a long day of work, and I'm sure you're all famished." As servo-robots brought out prepared meals for the members of the Legion of Doom, and they began to feast, Malleable Man turned to Dwarfstar, motioned toward Lord Malvolio and Lady Falcon, and said, "Trouble in paradise, huh?" "Yeah, he oughtta slit her throat right now, while he still has a chance," replied Dwarfstar as he chewed on a chicken leg. Malleable Man just stared at his friend for a few moments before saying, "Man, you need to get yer head checked." "Why?" said Dwarfstar, speaking with his mouth full. "Whad did I thay?" Malleable Man picked up his plate and said, "I'm... jus' gonna go sit next ta Blue Balls, there." As the rubber robber took the empty seat next to the Blue Bowman, the archer said, "I heard that crack. But you're right. We're career crooks, not Arkham jobs like most of the others. We should stick together." "All right," Malleable Man said, beginning to chow down. "But no funny stuff. I ain't got nothin' against yer people, but I'm not about ta join yer rainbow parade, neither. Let's keep things on the up an' up, all right?" The Blue Bowman began grumbling to himself, "You say one little thing about David Bowie bein' a pretty-boy, and they never let you forget it."
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:54:50 GMT
Chapter 5: Spirit ChildrenThe four missing members of the Justice League of America -- Firestorm, Red Tornado, Steel, and Vixen -- had finally returned home, only to find that their companions had gone missing sometime earlier. They weren't worried about Nightmaster, Tabitha, or Fonzarelli, since they were grown-ups and could fend for themselves, but the two children, Laurel and Artie, were another matter entirely. Dinah Laurel Lance was born in October, 1951, in the parallel universe of Earth-Two to her parents Larry Lance and Dinah Drake Lance. Her mother was the Black Canary in that world's Justice Society of America, and in fact, the little girl had been conceived shortly before the Justice Society of America was forced into retirement. Thanks to Black Canary's former association with that team, she was targeted for revenge not long afterward when a notorious villain learned of their child. By June, 1952, the Wizard had recently broken out of prison after having been sent there when his Injustice Society of the World failed to prevail over the JSA. (*) Chancing upon the Black Canary's secret identity, the Wizard made her his first target of revenge by cursing her daughter with an ability that she could not control. Whenever the little girl opened her mouth to cry, or sometimes merely to make a sound, a powerful force of sheer ultrasonic noise uttered from her lips, causing destruction to everything in the vicinity. Made from a blend of science and magic, the Wizard's spell was so effective that none of Black Canary's former allies in the JSA could cure her daughter of this affliction. And when the Wizard soon afterward caused Superman to disappear, his curse upon the girl was overshadowed. (*) [(*) Editor's note: See "The Case of the Patriotic Crimes," All-Star Comics #41 (June-July, 1948) and "Superman Takes a Wife," Action Comics #484 (June, 1978).]The girl's parents were gifted with hand-to-hand combat skills and minds skilled at deduction, but they were ultimately normal people with no powers whatsoever. Their daughter quickly became too much for them to control, and they could do nothing to stop her from destroying everything around her. It was only a matter of time before her curse ended up killing someone. Green Lantern's magic power ring had been unable to cure the girl, Doctor Mid-Nite's mastery of advanced medical science could not cure her, and there were few others around who even stood a chance at finding a cure. In the late 1940s, the Black Canary had befriended the hapless Johnny Thunder, who was able to command a magical, genie-like being called the Thunderbolt thanks to an accident of birth. He'd been missing for some time, but by December, 1953, he had returned to America after being forced to be the king of Badhnisia for three years. (*) Thus, just days before Christmas, Dinah Drake Lance called upon Johnny for help, despite knowing of his jealousy over her relationship with Larry. But she was a close friend, so Johnny did what he could, and summoned his T-bolt. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Rescue of His Majesty, Johnny Thunder," The Superman Family #204 (November-December, 1980).]The Thunderbolt did what he could, which was taking the destructive toddler to the Thunderbolt Dimension with him, where the spell would have no effect, and she could grow to an age in which she might learn to control her curse. She would remain unconscious, but the magic of the Thunderbolt Dimension would nourish her body as she grew, as well as stimulate her mind as she dreamed for years on end. From her perspective, she lived in an enchanted dreamworld filled with amazing sights and sounds. In that dreamworld, little Dinah Laurel would have magical parents corresponding to Larry and Dinah Lance, while being taught everything she'd need to know when she returned to Earth. To ease her parents' heartache at being separated from their little girl, the Thunderbolt told them that he wouldn't be able to bring her back once he took her to the Thunderbolt Dimension, since he wasn't really sure if the girl's curse could ever be cured or tamed. He then took an extra step and caused Larry, Dinah, and all their friends to think that little Dinah Laurel had instead died. The Thunderbolt's intentions were honorable, but his actions would have long-lasting consequences. Five more years passed, and only the Thunderbolt remembered that Dinah Laurel was still alive. In 1958 the girl turned seven years old, and T-bolt decided that the day had finally come for him to bring her back to Earth to see if she'd now be able to control her destructive voice. But when he went to find her, he was astonished to discover that she was already gone. Her body was still present in suspended animation in the Thunderbolt Dimension, but he could tell that her soul was long gone. Unknown to the Thunderbolt, Dinah Laurel had embarked on a journey through the Dreaming, and she would not be found for many years. The Thunderbolt decided not to tell anyone what had happened until he could figure it out for himself, and he did nothing. More years passed, and then in 1969 Larry Lance was killed by Aquarius, a celestial being who was a living star that had gone insane. The Black Canary was heartbroken by her husband's death, little knowing that she had also sustained a lethal dose of radiation from the living star. Thus, when she asked Earth-One's Superman to bring her to his world so she could start her life anew, he took her through the barriers between their universes, only for her to start feeling the pangs of death. After Superman confirmed that she was indeed dying, and quickly, she begged him to let her see her child's grave one last time. That was when, in the limbo between worlds, Black Canary and Superman were confronted by the Thunderbolt, who seemed to be waiting for them. T-bolt took them both to the Thunderbolt Dimension to show them her grown-up daughter, whom Dinah Drake Lance assumed was alive. Superman quickly conferred with the Thunderbolt, who took the Man of Steel's suggestion and simply exchanged the mind and memories between mother and daughter, who were nearly identical to each other now that both were outfitted with a Black Canary costume. Unknown to the others, the Thunderbolt also placed the mother's soul into her daughter's body, since it had already been an empty vessel for years. This unusually drastic solution to the problem had been made in the heat of the moment, and had there been more time to think things through, they might have realized that they were apparently condemning the daughter to have no life of her own as she was made into a facsimile of her mother. The Thunderbolt then put Dinah Drake Lance's now-soulless body where her daughter's body had been. Thus, if Dinah Laurel's soul ever somehow made it back here, she would at least have a body to return to temporarily. The Thunderbolt then made sure to remove all memory of even having a daughter from the Black Canary's mind, in order to ease the grief that had resurfaced, since she'd already have Larry's death to deal with. Thus, for years she believed that she had merely migrated from Earth-Two to Earth-One, somehow regaining her youth even as she seemed to jump a few years into the future, since on Earth-One it was already 1978. (*) When she first discovered her Canary Cry, she assumed that it had been Aquarius' radiation that had given her these powers; just as the Thunderbolt had inwardly predicted, she quickly learned how to control what had once been an uncontrollable curse. (*) [(*) Editor's note: "Where Death Fears to Tread," Justice League of America #74 (September, 1969) and "In Each Man There Is a Demon," Justice League of America #75 (November, 1969).]It wasn't until a few years later that the Black Canary would learn the truth, or a version thereof. Now she would be made to believe that she was really her own daughter, Dinah Laurel Lance, but with her mother's personality and memories. The Thunderbolt, with his alien logic, didn't see fit to correct the Black Canary's misconception. (*) She spent the next few years under the impression that she was really the second Black Canary, daughter of the original, and to that end had some of her more intimate memories of her supposed father, Larry Lance, magically removed from her mind to make the transition easier. Oliver Queen, alias Green Arrow, was there for her throughout her identity crisis. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Doppelganger Gambit," Justice League of America #220 (November, 1983).]But it wasn't until quite recently that the Black Canary had begun to rethink what she thought she knew about her origin. The idea had finally occurred to her that perhaps she really was the original Black Canary, after all. Perhaps her very soul -- her essence in the form of her mind and memories -- had been transferred into her daughter's body, meaning that she was the original in the ways that truly mattered. Such metaphysical musings were impossible to prove one way or another, but she certainly liked the idea better than being a virtual clone with no personality of her own. Unknown to her, Dinah Lance had hit upon the truth by the time she finally married Oliver Queen earlier this year, though she still couldn't prove it either way, and she couldn't simply ask the Thunderbolt. (*) [(*) Editor's note: See Green Arrow and Black Canary: Let No Man Put Asunder.]Meanwhile, the soul of Dinah Laurel Lance had secured some help in the Dreaming when she encountered the only two real people she had ever met since she was first brought to the Thunderbolt Dimension. Her new friends Lyta and Hector figured out who she really was, but they were unable to help her find her real mother on Earth-One, so they did the next best thing by appealing to Morpheus, the god of dreams. It was Morpheus who helped Dinah Laurel to pass through the Dreaming into the land of Limbo, where lost souls dwell. (*) And it was in Limbo where she was finally found by the lost Justice Leaguers, still a little girl in spirit, if not in fact. [(*) Editor's note: See Infinity Inc: Child of Dreams (not yet completed).]As for Arthur Curry Jr., known by the nickname of Aquababy, he was born on Earth-One in July, 1977, as the heir to the throne of Atlantis, the son of Aquaman, king of Atlantis, and his other-dimensional queen, Mera. Because of a hereditary disease passed on through the Atlantean royal family, both Aquaman's son and wife would certainly die from this malady unless Mera took a certain serum before the birth. But the serum that Aquaman retrieved from the Gulf of Terrors had, unknown to him, been tampered with by an Atlantean exiled criminal named Sinquo. Thus, when little Arthur Jr. was born, the crown prince developed strange magical powers due to a villain's revenge plot, just as Dinah Laurel had been cursed by the Wizard. With a wave of his hand, Aquababy conjured up a fearsome monster out of the waters around him, which attacked his father until it was defeated and disappeared. Then the infant shot a destructive bolt that destroyed the new palace being built for the Atlantean royal family, followed by several more that shot holes in the protective dome surrounding Atlantis. The Atlanteans declared the child a menace and demanded that he be exiled as in keeping with Atlantean law. Aquaman was forced to agree, and he took Queen Mera and Aquababy, along with Aqualad, out of Atlantis so the baby's strange powers couldn't hurt anyone. Later, while Aquaman was foraging for food, and Mera and Aqualad were resting, Arthur Jr. wandered off and stumbled upon a group of water-breathing, hairy, ape-like mutants called horrkas, which were sneaking up on the family to attack. Aquaman returned just in time to find that his infant son had managed to fight off all the attacking horrkas with his strange new powers before those abilities apparently vanished. After he rescued his son from the last horrka, Aquaman proudly brought his family back to Atlantis, assured that Aquababy's powers were now completely gone. (*) Neither Aquaman nor Mera even considered the possibility that their son's powers could have come about because of his strange genetic mixture, since the boy was one-quarter human, one-quarter Atlantean, and half-Xebel. In any event, the powers had either burnt out or were suppressed from that point on. The little prince was raised in Atlantis over the next four and a half years in mostly happy surroundings, while his father dreamed of the day when Arthur Jr. would grow up to become the new Aquaman, king of the seven seas. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Birth of Aquababy," Aquaman #23 (September-October, 1965).]All those dreams were shattered on the day that Arthur Curry Jr. died, killed in February, 1982, when he was not yet five years old by one of his father's greatest enemies, Black Manta. (*) That death, whether from murder or negligence, would mark the end of an era for the super-hero community of Earth-One, as ever since then the world seemed to be a darker place. It nearly destroyed his parents' marriage, and in fact it took years for Arthur Curry and Mera to come to grips with the loss of their son and onetime heir to the throne of Atlantis. Even now they still saw their first-born whenever they looked into the eyes of their little girl, Nautica. (*) [(*) Editor's note: See "Dark Destiny, Deadly Dreams," Adventure Comics #452 (July-August, 1977) and Aquaman: Bride's Head Revisited.]The boy's spirit had remained in an infantilized state ever since, seeming even younger than he'd been when he died, and even now he barely made a sound. The Justice Leaguers had found little Artie, as they called him, at the bottom of a river in the underworld of Hades. Not long after, they found Laurel in Limbo. Perhaps sensing how much they had in common, the two spirit children had taken to each other, becoming fast friends despite never saying a word. But their true ages were difficult to discern, since they had lost their original bodies, and seemed to be toddlers one day, then small children the next. The Justice League's journey from the underworld into the potential worlds, for lack of a better term, had somehow given both Artie and Laurel new bodies nearly identical to their own, which had settled at the ages of five and seven, respectively. Thus, when they finally found a way to return to the universe of Earth-One, the Justice Leaguers were looking forward to reuniting the children with their parents and fellow Leaguers. But the unthinkable had happened upon their return, when they discovered that the children were both missing. Finding themselves on Mount Rushmore, the four Justice Leaguers immediately left for the East Coast to locate one of their allies. On the way, they discovered that mere days had passed since they disappeared into the Underworld, despite many weeks passing for them during their inter-dimensional journeys. It had been mid-June, 1988, when they disappeared, and it was now only late June. An attempt to beam up to the JLA Satellite had proven unsuccessful, so the four Justice Leaguers went to the next logical location: the Secret Sanctuary. Unfortunately, the Secret Sanctuary that they knew was completely abandoned. That left one last option: the original, mountainous Secret Sanctuary known only to the Justice Leaguers. Upon arrival, they became hopeful when they found that the lights were on, but those hopes were dashed when it seemed that no one was home. "Where could everyone have gone?" said Vixen, looking at the empty meeting room, which had grown dusty since its heyday in the late 1970s. "Do you think they might have been shanghaied into another dimension by that witch, like we were?" suggested Firestorm. "Maybe," replied Steel. "But based on the footprints in the dust, and the smudges on these seats, it looks like they've been here recently." "Not only that," added Red Tornado, "but it seems someone is still here." Blowing a powerful wind through the corridor leading to the trophy room, the Red Tornado shouted, "Show yourself!" "Sdniw emoceb mlac!" shouted a deep, commanding voice that held an unmistakable touch of showmanship in it, and the winds immediately died down. The Justice Leaguers could only see the shadow of a man wearing a top hat as he strolled toward them through the corridor, and despite all evidence to the contrary, they couldn't believe their eyes. "Zatara?!" said Vixen, looking just as shocked as the other three. Each of these Justice Leaguers had either met the famous stage magician in person, since his daughter was a fellow member, or knew him by reputation. "It is I," said Zatara the Magician with a wan smile. "Man, all sorts of people are coming back from the dead these days!" said Firestorm. "We're all glad to see you, Zatanna's dad, but how in the world are you still alive?" "It's a long story," replied Zatara in an urgent tone, "and not important right now. The rest of the Justice League needs your help!"
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:57:04 GMT
Chapter 6: Sleepers AwakeWill Payton found himself alone in utter darkness. His first thought was that he, like Hawkman and Hawkwoman, was going to be confronted by his demons. He had observed the after-effects on the other JLAers, and he still wondered what had shaken the Hawks in particular so much. What past regrets or actions would possibly now haunt Starman as much as what had upset them? Then, from out of the darkness, a figure emerged, walking toward him and seeming to blend seamlessly into the shadows. As he became visible, Will could see that he was wearing a dark suit and hat with a long dark overcoat. He also wore white gloves, and had a gleaming medallion containing an eight-pointed star over a white turtleneck. "Who are you?" Starman asked before the figure fully came into view. "I am a Stranger, but I am here to act as your guide," said the familiar-looking figure. "Phantom Stranger!" said Starman, remembering the honorary Justice Leaguer he'd first met while accompanying the team on a case last year. (*) "I'm glad to see you, though I hope you stick around a bit after we've wrapped up this case. You tend to disappear when your work is done." [(*) Editor's note: See Justice League of America: Carnival.]"Such has always been my way," replied the Phantom Stranger. "Do you know what's happening to the League?" asked Starman. "I do, and that is why I have brought you here, young Will Payton." " You brought me here?" the hero replied in surprise. "I'd just assumed... well, if I'm here, where are the others?" "They are all together, where Neron wants them, and where he can complete his plans for them. However, he has taken you, the newest member of the Justice League, for granted. He has made no plans for you, taken no account for you except when he sent the Thanagarian thrill-killer after you as a temporary measure. You were not supposed to be present when Neron sent his Legion of Doom after the team, and thus you may just prove to be the proverbial wrench in the works." "You sure know how to turn a phrase, Stranger," said Will. "Anyway, won't he notice that I'm gone?" "Not at all. An image of you remains behind with the others, and since he's exerting so much power over your allies, Neron does not suspect it to be artificial. And he won't until it is too late." "So exactly why am I here, Mr. Phantom Stranger?" "I wish to show you something," replied the Stranger, and suddenly the darkness all around them disappeared. Will Payton now found himself amidst a scene of chaos. As he looked around, he saw in every direction fires burning and explosions sounding from both far away and nearby. He spotted the Capitol Building in the distance, burning like everything else. "What the heck is going on?" said Starman. "Is this a vision of the future?" "No," said the Stranger. "This is the past -- October, 1985, to be precise: the day that every prisoner of the Phantom Zone was released upon the earth." (*) [(*) Editor's note: See "Phantom Zone: The Final Chapter," DC Comics Presents #97 (September, 1986).]"Good Lord!" said Will. "I'd thought the Crisis was bad enough, but I had no idea how bad the attack on Washington was! I remember seeing it on the news, but being on ground zero is another thing entirely! Though I was quite busy at the time; I'd just received my powers not long before, and I was still too much in shock about how much my life had changed to take much notice of the world around me. Then Captain Comet recruited me for his Rehab Squad, and the rest is history." (*) Starman turned to his companion. "Stranger, why are we here?" [(*) Editor's note: See Captain Comet's Rehab Squad: Suicide Mission, Chapter 1: The Cardialink.]"This was the day that Neron realized how fragile the Pax Superhominum -- the superhuman peace -- really was. During the Crisis on Infinite Earths, the heroes and villains began as enemies but ultimately joined forces to defeat a greater evil. Yet, less than three months later, a horde of Kryptonians with powers equal to Superman laid waste to the nation's capital, and surely would have continued their earlier plans to either shunt the entire planet into the Phantom Zone, as they'd attempted during a previous breakout two years earlier, or destroy the planet entirely. (*) Neron had already seen what could happen when two Supermen fought, but now there were so many more, both Kryptonian and superhuman. Working with a common purpose, these superhumans could wreak untold destruction. Neron's only regret was that it was cut short by the appearance of the heart-shaped, jewel-like being known as Aethyr, who had absorbed Mr. Mxyzptlk into its person and now would do the same to all the prisoners of the Phantom Zone, ending the attack on Washington." [(*) Editor's note: See "The Terror Beyond Twilight," The Phantom Zone #3 (March, 1982) and "The Phantom Planet," The Phantom Zone #4 (April, 1982).]"Whew!" said Starman. "Imagine if that hadn't happened! We'd have had a full-blown super-hero war on our hands -- all of Earth's super-heroes versus the Phantom Zoners!" "That is exactly what Neron imagined would happen," replied the Phantom Stranger. "And that is what he wants to engineer once again -- a never-ending battle framed as the forces of 'good' and the forces of 'evil,' but with the rest of humanity paying the price as casualties of war." "And here I thought ol' Neron was just out for our souls!" said Starman. "He is, at that, but not in the way you think," said the Stranger. "Neron knows his usual temptations are not often effective on true heroes, for they are more likely to sacrifice their own lives rather than seek personal gain. And, despite his claims to the contrary, Neron does not have the power to bring back the dead. His Unholy Trinity -- Super-Menace, the Wrath, and the Dark Commander -- were, in fact, still clinging to life when Neron saved them from what would have been certain death. When dealing with a scion of Hell, whether a fallen angel or the lowliest junior tempter demon, you must first realize that with every truth they utter also comes a lie." "So what's his plan, anyway?" asked Will. "That I know not, but I can guess he means to drive the heroes of the Justice League to extremes, to push them past the breaking point so that they end up doing exactly what he wishes them to do." "Which is?" prompted Will. "To become so obsessed with exacting justice -- or revenge, since by that point there's little difference -- that they abandon what truly makes them heroes: their respect for life, their holding to a moral code despite living in a corrupted world. Neron wants to strip everything truly heroic from them, leaving them as supermen of sheer, unbridled power who think nothing of using that power to remake the world in their image, believing that their every brutal action is justified as long as it benefits them." Starman whistled as he realized the implications. "It's like that Orwell quote about the future being a boot stamping on a human face forever, except in this case that boot would be just part of a 'hero' costume. Do you think that's even possible? The JLA has been protecting the world for many years now, and they've never failed! Even when the first Flash was on trial for the supposed murder of the Reverse-Flash, there was no question in my mind that he had done all he could to keep from taking the life of his enemy. What could possibly push the JLA past the breaking point now?" "We shall soon see," replied the Stranger. *** "Sleepers awake!" The assembled members of the Justice League of America awoke from their stupor to find themselves in a huge, cavern-like location that was positively radiating heat. Before them was the now-familiar figure of Neron, seated on a throne of skulls and grinning like a madman at their predicament. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they had used the black candles to transport themselves there to confront the figure behind the Legion of Doom plot, only to find themselves playing his games in his domain. Almost all of them had been forced to face regrets in their life, as well as people they'd failed to save. Those lost in previous years, including loves ones, stood accusing them again and again until it was too much to bear, even for these vaunted champions of justice. Neron had offered each of them a way out; all they had to do was accept his offer, and he could alleviate their suffering and assuage their guilt. "Have you all had a nice rest?" said Neron in a mocking tone. "I trust you've found your accommodations pleasant and to your liking." "You monster!" cried Hawkman, who took to his wings and threw a mace at Neron. An invisible force-field stopped the attack immediately, and Hawkman was forced to retreat. "Oh, don't be angry with me, Katar," said Neron. "All I did was force you to face one of your own greatest failures! Shall I tell the others?" "No!" shouted Hawkwoman. "But it's just too cute!" cackled Neron. "Say, Justice Leaguers, did you know that your beloved Hawkman and Hawkwoman have been trying for years to get pregnant? Rumor has it that they've actually succeeded more than once, only to lose the baby! How heartbreaking!" "We're not your playthings!" shouted Green Lantern, who used his ring to create a jackhammer, but even its power was unable to break through Neron's force-field. "Hey, where's Superman?" said the Atom. "The rest of us are here, but I don't see Superman anywhere!" "Some of you were more... receptive to my offer than others," said Neron. "Let's just say that your Man of Steel is looking through my catalogue, mulling over his options. Now, heroes of Justice, would you like to know which one of you offered to betray the others in exchange for an offer that they could not refuse?" "You lie!" shouted Wonder Woman. "None of us would stab the others in the back!" "Ah-ah-ah, but you are not a parent," said Neron. "How could you know what lengths a parent would go to bring back their child from the dead?" A hush settled in over the Justice Leaguers as they turned to one another, trying to figure out who he was referring to. Only Aquaman continued staring at Neron. Finally, he spoke. "Neron offered to bring back my son, Arthur Junior," shouted Aquaman, barely able to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke; the old wounds had now been reopened under the worst circumstances. "He kept pressing me, over and over, assuring me that he would keep my treason a secret if I'd just agree to do one thing for him at the right moment. But I never agreed to it; I know my son is lost, and has been for years now. Nothing I can do can possibly bring him back." "Perhaps I wasn't referring to the League's resident father," said Neron. "There is another among who you lost a daughter far too soon, one who is farther away than ever, yet also has remained closer to her than anyone!" After a moment, he added, "Black Canary, do you have anything you'd like to tell your teammates?" "I-I didn't agree to anything that should even be possible," said Black Canary, tearing up. "Oh, pretty bird, what did you do...?" groaned Green Arrow. "I don't even know for sure whether I'm the original Black Canary as I'd once thought, or if I'm really her daughter with transplanted memories, but Neron claimed that he could bring my daughter back to me if I'd promise to do something for him. I refused, telling him I wouldn't do anything that would bring harm to my teammates or anyone else. He promised he wouldn't ask me for anything I wouldn't already do, in exchange for seeing exactly what happened to her... my daughter. It was nothing! I know he can't possibly bring her back -- she was lost long ago on Earth-Two, and the barriers are still up! It -- it was harmless!" "'O ye of little faith,'" cackled Neron as he mockingly quoted scripture. "'O unbelieving and perverse generation! How long must I put up with you?'" "What did he ask you to do?" demanded Batman. "Go on," said Neron. "Tell them what I told you to say." "You don't have to do anything he tells you to do, pretty bird," said Green Arrow. "I would've told the rest of you anyway," she replied, panic rising in her voice. "All Neron wanted me to do was to tell you what he's been up to since we were trapped here! He's sent the Legion of Doom after all of our loved ones! If we don't get back now, they're all dead!" Neron's laughter, beginning as a low chuckle, began to fill the cavern. There was a long pause as the words began to sink in, and the Justice Leaguers looked at one another, even as Neron's laughter started to die down. "It's a trick," said Batman flatly. "How could you possibly know that?" replied Green Arrow. "Neron wants us to react to this news with emotion," replied Batman. "He's obviously manipulating us. He wants us to lose our heads and run off half-cocked." "But if we're all here, under Neron's power, who's keeping everyone we know and love safe?" said the Flash. "We've got to get back." "Batman's right," said Green Lantern. "We came here with a purpose -- to stop Neron. We're the Justice League. Now let's act like it!" "Are you stupid or just crazy, G.L.?" shouted Green Arrow. "You saw it for yourself -- Neron is untouchable here in his own domain!" "Everyone has a weak spot," said Batman. "Well, he's sure found ours!" cried Green Arrow. "I just want to know what happened to Superman," said Zatanna. "There's no way that he, of all people, would betray us." "NERON!" All heads turned to a corner of the cave as a figure flying at high speed flashed into sight, then struck at full strength against Neron's force-field, then struck again and again, over and over in the same spot. The Lord of Hell merely laughed at the barrage of Kryptonian fists on his force-field. "Superman!" the Justice Leaguers shouted in unison. "Neron, you bastard!" cried Superman, his face wracked with anger and emotion. "I know what you've done! Come out of there and fight like a man! It's more than you deserve!" "Come on, everyone!" shouted Green Lantern. "Let's help him!" At that, the Justice League of America flew forward to attack the force-field. Neron stopped laughing as hundreds of blows were rained upon his force-field in a matter of seconds. "It doesn't matter how powerful he is here!" said Superman. "If we work together, we can defeat even the mightiest devil!" As Superman continued to rain blow upon blow on Neron's force-field, accompanied by bursts of heat-vision, the other JLAers did their part. Batman used explosives and a blowtorch; Wonder Woman slashed at the force-field with her enchanted sword; the Flash struck at various pressure-points hundreds of times a second and started working his way up to thousands of times per second; Green Lantern used a giant vise grip on the force-field; Aquaman used his great Atlantean strength to try to shove it over; the Martian Manhunter used his Martian vision and strength to pound it; Green Arrow shot a number of incendiary arrows at one spot; Hawkman and Hawkwoman swung their maces at the force-field; Black Canary directed her canary cry at it; the Elongated Man tried to snake under the force-field through the cracks in the cavern floor; and Zatanna used all manner of magic spells cast in backwards speech to dissolve the force-field. So far, nothing was working, but Neron began looking nervous. Two heroes had not joined in the fight. The Atom, in his six-inch-tall form, stood on the newest Justice Leaguer's shoulder as he tried to get his newfound friend into the fight. "Starman!" he cried. "We need all the help we can get! Why aren't you blasting away at it, too?" Starman began to frown as he watched the League's assault on Neron's shield. The Atom leaned in and listened for a reply, but nothing came.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:57:47 GMT
Chapter 7: Living Nightmare
A brief look of terror flashed over Neron's face before he suddenly stood up from his throne and held out his hands as if commanding the Justice League's attack on his force-field to stop immediately. He frowned, his nostrils flared, and a vein began popping on his forehead as he struggled to maintain his force-field under the assault of the world's greatest super-heroes.
Finally, it was too much. With one final, mighty blow, Superman smashed through the eldritch force-field, which immediately dissipated. Superman was on top of Neron in a millisecond, continuing his assault with more fury than his teammates had seen since he'd fought the Anti-Monitor during the Crisis on Infinite Earths.
"WHERE IS SHE?" the Man of Steel screamed as he pounded Neron's face. "Where is she? Tell me now, or by God, I swear I'll--"
"Kal!" shouted the Batman. "Ease up! We've got him where we want him, but he'll be no good to us dead!"
"I'm not about to kill him, if that's even possible," growled Superman, holding one clenched fist in front of Neron's face, while he grasped him by his green and white outfit with the other. "At least not until he tells me what he's done with Jasma!" As a shocked gasp passed over the others, Superman explained what had happened.
"It felt like I'd spent hours upon hours being psychically assaulted by the supposed ghosts of people I'd failed to save -- people I loved! But it was all a ruse. Neron was trying to break me down, to see what it would take to finally break my spirit, and I held on to that fact in order to keep from going insane. I knew what my real foster parents would say, what the real Supergirl would say, and none of those shades could truly pull off their masquerade with any sincerity.
"But then... someone else approached me out of the encroaching darkness, and her spirit was shining so brightly that all the shades just melted back into the black. It was Kara -- really my cousin Kara -- and they were terrified of her! I couldn't imagine what it had taken for her to leave her final reward to reach me here, but I knew it had to be something important -- and it was! She warned me that, if we didn't free ourselves from Neron's trap soon, and return to Earth, the Legion of Doom would kidnap and kill everyone near and dear to us. Even worse, she said that Neron had already sent Super-Menace to kidnap her daughter, Jasma!"
"How can you know that was really Kara Zor-El?" asked Batman. "I spoke with several supposed spirits of the deceased, and each one of them was utterly realistic. Perhaps this was another of Neron's tricks."
"This was no trick, Batman," said Superman, keeping his eyes on Neron, whose was still grinning despite his nose and one eye now bloodied. "If you could only have seen her -- the contrast was so apparent, that she made all the fake spirits look like kids wearing ghost costumes at Halloween! This really was Kara, and she was somehow permitted to visit me at my darkest hour in order to give me a warning."
"But why would Neron have told me to say the same thing?" asked Black Canary. "How can we be sure what the truth really is now?"
"We can't," replied Batman. "And that's the game Neron is forcing us to play."
"I refuse to play any longer," growled Superman. "Now, tell me where she is, or--!"
"Temper, temper," said Neron, then spat out a bloody tooth. "I'm more than happy to grant you your fondest wish, as I've been saying all along. You just have to play by my rules."
"Guys!" cried the Atom, still standing on the unresponsive Starman's shoulders. "If we're gonna go somewhere, we'd better go now!" He was pointing toward another tunnel that led into the vast cavern, but thanks to his diminutive size, no one had seen him or heard him.
"Tell me, Neron!" Superman said, punctuating his words with several more slams to his face. "If your goon has hurt her, I'll--"
"You'll keep punching me in the face?" Neron said, and laughed. "I expected more of you, Superman -- so much more. But... if you'll just give me a moment, I'll be more than glad to help you return home to check on the little one. We can settle up later."
"No tricks, Neron!" said Superman.
"I wouldn't dream of it," said Neron, standing up and making a motion to dust himself off. "Now, where was I?"
"Guys! Guys! Just look!" cried the Atom, ineffectually. "Starman, help me get their attention before it's too late!"
"Oh, yes," said Neron, motioning with his arms. "Here we go." Suddenly, three swirling vortexes began to form behind the throne of skulls.
"Hey, does anyone hear something strange, like a rushing wind?" said Wonder Woman.
"Look out! Look out!" shouted the Atom, waving his arms and apparently too panicked to remember he could resume normal size to make himself heard.
Finally, Superman's super-hearing picked up his words, and as he turned to see what the young Atom was indicating, the other Justice Leaguers looked in the same direction and saw a multitude of winged creatures flying toward them.
"Wingmen?" said Hawkman.
"No -- demons!" cried Zatanna, raising her arms as she quickly began thinking of a protective spell.
Green Lantern immediately erected a protective green shield with his power ring, just as a horde of winged demons began thrust themselves forward to strike the shield.
"Yfitrof Neerg S'nretnal dleihs!" cried Zatanna a moment later.
"Well, I guess you'd better choose, and choose quickly," said Neron, indicating the three vortexes that had opened up behind him, each one leading to a different unknown location. "There's no telling how long 'Hell's Finest' will take getting through that shield of yours. Probably about as long as it took you to get through mine! Only they're not likely to show as much mercy as you super-heroes did to me."
"What do we do?" asked the Flash.
"He's got us by the short hairs," grumbled Green Arrow. "We don't have a choice except jump through one of those portals! And we'd better go at the same time, or we'll have to fight off those living nightmares!"
"This is their domain, not ours!" warned Zatanna. "At home, we might stand a chance, but here we are disadvantaged not only by sheer numbers, but by their supernatural powers!"
"It's your call, Superman," said Batman. "You have the most at stake right now."
"Let's go!" said Superman.
At that, the Justice League of America quickly formed into three teams. Without knowing where the three portals would take them, they jumped through them at the same time. A moment later, the space they'd occupied was swarming with demons, who stopped and hovered in place as if awaiting further orders. Neron smiled again and wiped some blood from his mouth as he waved his arms and caused the portals to collapse.
No one except the Atom had noticed that Starman merely vanished from sight the moment no eyes were turned upon him.
***
Moments ago, the Phantom Stranger had drawn the real Starman back to the cavern where the Justice League were being kept as Neron's prisoners, and where they saw the entire scene play out.
"Where do those portals lead, Stranger?" said Will Payton.
"Concern yourself not with where they are going or what they will see there," replied the Phantom Stranger. "Much of what they have seen and experienced in Neron's realm is but an illusion, but one that feels completely real. Even their emotions have been heightened to their extremes. Yet the demonic perils they faced in Neron's realm was real, as are their destinations. We can only hope that their bravery and character continue to hold out even as they once more face their personal demons, this time in the flesh.
"Will Payton, I have a mission for you," the Stranger added, turning to his companion. "You, alone, can save the Legion of Doom before it's too late!"
***
In a lavish chamber at the Hall of Doom, Lord Malvolio and Lady Falcon lay next to each other under silk sheets on an emperor-size bed.
"You have pleased me greatly," said Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame, tenderly caressing Lady Falcon's long, auburn hair. "You really did deserve much more than Beakman could ever give you. To think that he'd once had his way with you..." His other massive hand clenched in a fist. "If you had not killed him, I surely would have."
Lady Falcon smiled appreciatively, looking up at him with affection. Without her mask, she looked exactly like Cherilyn Stark, and in almost every sense she was, except legally. "I'm sure you would have. He was nothing compared to you. No man compares to you."
"Let us speak no further about your past lovers," said Malvolio. "I have had many women over my long lifetime, but few that match your beauty and... talents."
"I try, My Lord," she whispered seductively.
Lord Malvolio smiled and said, "My Lady, tell me what you wish for -- anything at all -- and I will grant it for you this very night."
She studied his eyes for a few moments more, then said, "Really? You'd do that for me, My Lord? Anything?"
"Anything -- within reason," added Malvolio.
"Well..." she began, "there is one thing..."
***
At STAR Laboratories in Midway City, research scientist Cherilyn Stark was annoyed. Ever since the mass prison break at Superman's Island, she'd been forced to go about her duties with a constant police guard. After she complained that it would interfere with her work, Ray Palmer personally called her to assure her that it was for her own safety, and that he'd insisted on it. She couldn't very well turn down one of the most renowned physicists of modern times, who also happened to be a former member of the Justice League of America, could she?
Cherilyn couldn't understand why anyone thought she'd be in danger now. When she was informed of Benton Beakman's murder in prison by her double, she felt nothing but satisfaction, though outwardly she tried to look concerned. That man had been a nuisance to her for years, but after he used some kind of psychological trickery passed off as black magic to seduce her against his will, she'd wanted revenge. Now that she knew he could never hurt her or even annoy her ever again, she decided to put him completely out of her mind from this point on.
There were too many things to do, and she had never been one to cry over spilled milk. She was Dr. Cherilyn Stark, B.A., Ph.D., and she had already made a name for herself in the field of quantum physics. No two-bit, delusional costumed crook could hold her back, even with the memories of what he'd forced her to do with him when her mind had been fractured into a dissociative state to create that villainous, sex kitten alter. Anyway, she'd evidently been cured of her multiple personality disorder, so she had no reason to think anything more about it.
But it was hard to ignore the presence of the two uniformed officers who insisted on accompanying her everywhere, and she was growing very annoyed once more. This was worse than when Beakman had followed her around like a lost puppy all those years. She was on the verge of something brilliant, something that would result in the paper of all academic papers, and she couldn't be interrupted any longer.
Sighing audibly, she stood up and walked out of the lab, making her annoyance at their presence known. When the two officers -- a tall, thin man, and a buxom, matronly woman -- started getting up from the desk they'd taken over, she waved them down and said tersely, "Just going to the ladies room, thank you very much. Go back to your game of poker, or baccarat, or whatever it is you're doing with those cards." Career-focused all her life, she'd never been interested in games of any kind. There was too much to learn and discover to let herself become distracted.
Her high heels made a rapid clicking sound as she speed-walked to the restroom, checking her electronic organizer on the way. She pushed open the restroom door forcefully and moved inside before she looked up -- and gasped.
In the tall mirrors before Cherilyn Stark stood her mirror-image, only she was wearing a gaudy costume and was standing in a strange, green-glowing dark room. The physicist did a double-take and glanced at the stalls behind her just to see if she'd somehow stepped into the wrong room by mistake, but the stalls were all there. This was the restroom, but the mirror was evidently being used as a two-way holographic screen displaying a scene elsewhere.
"What's going on?" she demanded, making herself sound angry to hide any traces of fear.
"Hello, dear 'sister,'" said the unmasked Lady Falcon, who could indeed pass as Cherilyn's twin sister. "I don't wish to keep you from your business, but you and I have a little business of our own to do tonight." Before her twin could speak, she added, "Ah-ah-ah. I know your 'guard dogs' will become awfully curious about your whereabouts if you don't return soon, so I'll do all the talking. If we are agreed, nod your head."
Cherilyn Stark, her heart pounding, nodded her head once and listened.
"Good. Now, the first thing you need to know is -- I own you. Have we got that clear? If you have any doubts on that respect, dispel them from your mind immediately. I can find you wherever you go, whatever you're doing, and just... get rid of you completely. No one will even notice you're gone. Know that I can take over your life at any point I wish. But I'd rather not do that. I think we can come to a much more agreeable arrangement for our mutual benefit, as long as you recognize that you work for me now."
Dread crept over Cherilyn's entire body as she listened to the demands of her erstwhile twin. And when, a couple of minutes later, she walked much less confidently back to her laboratory, it was all she could do to keep herself from bursting into tears. Would this nightmare ever end?
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 5:58:34 GMT
Chapter 8: Trust Issues
"Well? Can I trust her?" said Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame. Wearing nothing but his robe, he had excused himself while Lady Falcon communicated with her double through the use of his power ring. She had requested absolute privacy, and although he wasn't inclined to grant it, he did so anyway. He had made a promise to grant her any wish, after all. But he still wanted to have his bases covered.
The Marshal smiled wanly and said, "She's... quite a woman. You're very lucky to have her, you know."
Malvolio raised one eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're falling under her spell, too."
"No, no, nothing like that," replied the Martian telepath. "I would never have relations with anyone outside my species. No offense intended, of course."
"None taken."
"But, to put it in human terms, she's crazy about you," continued the Marshal.
"Really?" said Malvolio, thinking about it. "You know, I admit I was at first suspicious about her motives. It's hard to trust a woman who murdered her last lover, after all. But she's proven to be quite useful in the short time I've known her. Oh, I admit she's brilliant, in her own way, despite being saddled with a woman's brain. It's a wonder she's able to think at all, and maintain her unwrinkled beauty."
"Uh-huh," the Marshal replied noncommittally; on New Mars, equality between the sexes was simply a given. "Anyway, as I was saying, most of her thoughts about you tend to be... pleasurable in nature. It's as if she's constantly trying to think of ways to please you. I detected no treachery at all. Of course, I could only perform a surface scan of her mind without being detected. If you wish, I would be happy to go deeper -- though there's no way I'd be able to hide it from her."
"No, that will not be necessary," replied Lord Malvolio with a grin. "I'd rather not knock a gift horse in the mouth, as Earthers are fond of saying."
"Indeed," said the Marshal. "And as for our agreement...?"
"It's still valid, of course," said Malvolio. "You'll get everything you wish, and more."
"Let me handle the 'more' part," replied the Martian. "If you can just help me get exactly what I want."
"You have my word," said the hulking erstwhile Green Lantern.
Strolling down the corridor, Lord Malvolio reentered the Hall of Doom's royal suite, where he called out, "I trust you've finished sending your little message, My Lady?"
"Yes, it went exceedingly well," replied Lady Falcon from the bedroom. "So much so, in fact, that I'd really like to give you a reward."
"Oh?" he said with a chuckle. "And what, pray tell, is this reward?"
"Come into the bedroom, My Lord, and you'll find out," she said.
Lord Malvolio stepped into the bedroom chamber, to find Lady Falcon reclining in bed, wearing his mask and cape -- and nothing else. "Oh, my. That is a reward, indeed."
***
The Lost Leaguers, as the four Justice Leaguers had begun to think of themselves during their exile into other dimensions, had headed out from the Secret Sanctuary on a retrieval mission. Zatara the Magician had remained behind to guard the fort, but urged them to hurry for the sake of his daughter. The mystery-man of Earth-Two had literally gone through Hell and back to return to Zatanna once more, and he'd not lose her to Hell now.
"Are we sure we still have his address?" asked Firestorm. "It's not like the team has done all that great a job at keeping in touch."
"Can you blame 'em?" asked Steel. "I've read the archives -- he betrayed the team on no less than two occasions, and has been a pawn more than once. It's no wonder they're a bit gun-shy around the guy."
"The past is past," said Vixen. "He was just a kid back then, and fell under the spell of a much stronger personality than his. And that other time he was forced to betray the team against his will, wasn't he? Give him a break. I'm pretty sure the original Leaguers forgave him long ago, right, Reddy?"
"Indeed they have," Red Tornado replied. "Although I was not with them during their earliest days, our teammates have always had a strong affection for him, and have helped him get his career on track."
"Well, I just hope he can do what he claims he can," said Firestorm. "A lot of people had their meta-genes activated back during the Invasion, but most of them aren't all that useful. Who needs the power to flick fleas with your mind, anyway?"
"Don't start, Ronnie," Steel laughed.
"We've arrived at our destination," interrupted the Red Tornado. "Shall we?"
Without another word, the four Justice Leaguers descended from Red Tornado's pocket of air and landed on the ground in a suburban neighborhood. It was already dark and well past midnight, so they tried to be as quiet as possible as they walked up to a particular door and knocked.
The lights, which had been off, flashed on after a few more knocks. Then the door opened, and a young, brown-haired man wearing a wrinkled T-shirt and boxers stood looking at his visitors. His reaction to seeing the odd foursome was laughter.
"Wow!" he said enthusiastically. "I just woke up from a dream that you guys needed me again! Oh, man, this is too funny."
"I wish we could stand here and chat, Lucas, but this is an emergency," said Vixen.
"Of course, of course. Why don't you guys come in and help yourselves to a snack? I'll get dressed in a moment." Lucas Carr started laughing again as he walked into his bedroom to rummage through his closet. "Too funny, man!"
"Are you guys sure about this?" Firestorm whispered to the other two. "When was the last time anyone said, 'This looks like a job for... Snapper Carr'?!"
"Ronnie..." scolded Vixen.
"OK, OK, just trying to be the voice of reason, here," replied Firestorm. "I just hope this isn't something we'll regret."
"Hey," said Steel, sniffing. "Do you guys smell... uh... 'oregano'?"
***
Will Payton rocketed through the air on a mission. As Starman, he was considered one of the more powerful meta-humans on Earth, but he was never considered Superman's equal. Why hadn't the Phantom Stranger recruited Superman to do this job? Superman was the greatest super-hero of all, the one whom everyone worth his salt teamed up with eventually. People would still listen to him even during those times when public opinion had turned against super-heroes in general. Out of all the members of the Justice League, Superman certainly had the most influence, even when it came to super-villains.
So why had Starman been picked to go find the Legion of Justice and give them a message? Even if he did find them, why would they listen to him? And what could possibly stop them from trying to kill him again?
A small part of him told him he had to keep going, that the fate of the world depended on him. But the rest of him positively screamed at him to turn back, to just return home to Phoenix, Arizona, and settle down into the life of a local super-hero, where the worst he'd have to face was Bolt or the Power Elite?
Even retiring from heroics altogether sounded appealing right about now. His career prospects would have all but vanished during his latest absence, but he'd never had much trouble picking up work here and there. It would be nice pretending to be normal again. Of course, his sister Jayne would tease him mercilessly about it for years, and would push him to put on the tights again with that line about great power and great responsibility. But he was sure he'd rather handle that than face an entire team of super-killers called the Legion of Doom.
Will shook his head in an attempt to shake these defeatist thoughts from his mind. Jayne was right; he'd been given these powers for a reason, and he couldn't shirk his responsibility now, of all times, even though he desperately wanted to.
"What would Superman do in this situation?" Starman muttered to himself as he reached the skies over Metropolis, looking like a glittering jewel in the night. He just hoped he could track down Super-Menace before it was too late for Superman's kid.
***
It was nearly the stroke of midnight, and all was quiet at the Hall of Doom. There were enough rooms to house each member of the Legion of Doom, and many more besides. Some were sleeping or trying to sleep, while others had decided to stay up for various reasons.
Dagon had submerged himself in a huge tank of salt water and, though his eyes remained partially open, he seemed fast asleep. Allura was in her room reading an ancient tome by candlelight. Savitar was staring wistfully out the window of his darkened room, impatient to finally make a name for himself. Cradling a jeweled necklace in one hand, Mockingbird was sleeping and snoring softly; the humid air of the swamp didn't agree with her. The Marshal was in deep meditation, his mind completely elsewhere. And Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame and Lady Falcon were fast asleep in the same bed, facing different directions.
All of them would be awake soon enough.
The Blue Bowman was playing an intense game of poker with Malleable Man, Dwarfstar, and Master Jailer at a card table in the meeting room on the main level. He'd invited Mockingbird as well, and she seemed interested until she learned that Dwarfstar would also be there. The little creep had muttered a few words at her earlier, which she didn't want to repeat, and was afraid she'd murder the diminutive villain the next time she saw him. Malleable Man had warned him that Dwarfstar's mind had started to go off the rails lately.
Dwarfstar had always had misogynistic tendencies, but now he'd started talking about killing members of the fairer sex, and brought up the idea at any opportunity. Malleable Man was worried about him, and told the Bowman he'd have to bring Dwarfstar to a whorehouse at the earliest opportunity, since, as he put it, "The little guy hasn't been with a dame since the mid-'70s! He just needs a little tender lovin' care, and he'll be all right."
The Blue Bowman wasn't so sure about that plan. Dwarfstar's current interest in women seemed to be decidedly deviant. But that wasn't really his problem, except when it interfered with his own love life.
The Master Jailer's laugh brought him back to his senses. He'd just placed his cards on the table. "Read 'em and weep, gentlemen. Royal flush."
"Well, I'm out," said Malleable Man, getting up from the table. "Night, boys."
"LEGION OF DOOM!"
Dwarfstar leaped out of his seat, startled by the loud voice. "What the hell?"
"My Legion of Doom, how quickly you forget the one responsible for making each one of you into what you are today!"
The Blue Bowman gulped. It was the voice of Neron.
"Let me remind each and every one of you about something very important: you are all under contract. Your contracts were signed in blood, and you each made an oath to carry out said contract, or your lives would be forfeit. Need I remind you that, while the Justice League of America still lives, your own plans and schemes matter not one whit."
"What's up with you guys?" said the Master Jailer, looking at the other three men. Whatever they seemed to be listening to was loud enough to cause them agonizing pain, but he couldn't hear a thing.
"Gather yourselves and make what preparations you will, for very soon I will call upon you to finish the job you started -- or you can expect nothing but death and an eternity of suffering to think upon your actions."
At that, the voice stopped. The Blue Bowman began to sweat; not for the first time, he wondered why he'd ever signed up for this.
***
In the lavish chamber upstairs, Lord Malvolio rose from the large bed and glanced over to Lady Falcon. She had already arisen and was donning her outfit.
"Why so quickly, my Lady?" Malvolio said, walking over to her and placing one hand around her waist. He frowned as he noticed when she stiffened somewhat.
"No time for that now," she muttered in a serious tone without looking at him, which only made Malvolio want to ravish her more. He started reaching his other hand around her waist to pull her toward him, when she broke out of his grasp and headed for the doorway to leave. "You heard Neron," she said in a slightly softer tone as she grabbed her wings and left.
Lord Malvolio frowned. Lady Falcon was a very strange woman. One minute she was fawning all over him and practically begging him for more, and the next she was all business and seemed to have no affection for him at all. It was as if she were two different people altogether. She just likes playing hard to get, he assured himself, and used his power ring to dress himself.
The Legion of Doom would be needed soon.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 6:01:33 GMT
Chapter 9: Gladiators
Atop the Daily Planet Building, a lone figure was sitting in the shadows beneath the huge globe that had been a landmark in Metropolis for decades now. Clyde Derek wondered for the thousandth time how his life had come to this.
Before his death, the man called Super-Menace had come to grips with the complete, utter lie that his life had been built upon, and he had already made his choice. That choice had been the murder-suicide of his adoptive parents and himself through self-immolation. That should have been the end, right then and there. He had nothing left to live for. His hands had been bloodied by countless assassinations performed on rival underworld figures at the behest of his father, who was working toward becoming the undisputed king of crime over all the Earth.
Clyde had never done anything on his own before; everything he'd done had been for his parents and their endless ambition. If he hadn't discovered what skunks they truly were, that they'd never really loved him after all, he wondered how far their plan would have gone. Would they have been satisfied with presiding over every underworld gang on Earth, or would Super-Menace have been sent to start carving out a piece of the action in outer space, too? Would Clyde have managed to kill his rival, Superman, and take his place without anyone ever suspecting? That certainly would have made things go smoothly, and Wolf Derek had certainly hinted that this was the ultimate plan.
Yet Super-Menace knew that his hatred for Superman sprang out of jealousy. He'd watched the Kents from afar as they raised their adoptive child, and he knew there was a genuine affection there that he just didn't have with the Dereks. Inwardly, Clyde knew that Superman was a better man than he, thanks to the influence the Kents had on his life. Clyde had turned out very differently than his twin, and being a hero had never been in the cards for him. Once he'd faced the truth about himself, suicide was left as his only option, and he took it.
Now, though, he was alive again. Neron had brought him back to life, and Clyde Derek found himself following orders from yet another father figure. Sure, this one was much more powerful than the mortal Wolf Derek ever was, but their ambition and resourcefulness were similar.
Neron had made it painfully clear how much Super-Menace owed him for his life, and Clyde had accepted that he would have to be a willing slave, at least for now. In the span of just a few days he had helped form the Legion of Doom, had gone on a rampage in Metropolis, and had kidnapped Superman's friends in order to draw him out for a battle, which he lost thanks to lack of information. If Neron had truly wanted him to win that fight, he would have told him that Super-Menace was now fully Kryptonian, not merely an energy-duplicate, and thus subject to the same weaknesses as Superman. Clyde couldn't help but wonder at that.
Then, hours ago, Neron had appeared before him, along with the Wrath and the Dark Commander, to tell them that he had a new mission. Clyde wished he had just told Neron where he could shove it, but instead he'd followed the Wrath's lead and agreed to follow through on his next assignment.
But kidnapping and killing children was just a step too far, even for Super-Menace. Yes, he'd killed countless times before, but as far as he could tell, all of his victims had been guilty of many murders themselves.
Clyde wished that alcohol affected him as it did humans; if he could get drunk, he'd have been blind, stinking drunk hours ago. That would have helped him do what he was now obligated to do. Instead, he was completely sober and could feel nothing but dread inside. Eventually, he hoped, that dread would become numbed, and he would do what he must.
Why couldn't he just fly away from his godforsaken world and start over in the stars? He had nothing keeping him here, and with his powers he could live indefinitely in space as long as he was occasionally powered up by a yellow sun.
But he knew that, no matter how far he went, he could never escape his fate. He could never outrun Neron.
"You don't have to do this, you know."
Super-Menace jumped to his feet and looked around. He'd been so busy intently watching the little girl named Jasma with his telescopic vision that he hadn't heard the newcomer creep up on him.
"Who's there?" Super-Menace demanded. "Show yourself."
"Truce," said Starman, floating in from the other side of the Daily Planet globe. "I just came here to talk. I know what Neron sent you to do. But I'm telling you that you don't need to do this."
"What do you know about it, little Starman?" growled Super-Menace. "Tell me why I shouldn't just snap your neck like a twig right now."
"Because you would've already done it," said Starman. "The fact that you're listening proves that you're not a lost cause." Taking a deep breath, he said, "Neron lied to you, Super-Menace. He lied to all of you. And if you'll just listen to me for a few moments, I'll tell you everything I know."
Super-Menace stood with his arms crossed and said, "You've got two minutes before I tear your head off, kid."
***
Having leaped through Neron's first portal back to Earth, Martian Manhunter, Elongated Man, and the Atom found themselves in a huge, familiar-looking city that looked as if it had been through a war.
"Looks like Metropolis," said Ralph Dibny, the world-famous Elongated Man, peering over the rubble of a half-destroyed brownstone to spot a Metropolis Subway sign. "But if so, it's really been put through the wringer!"
Adam Cray, alias the Atom, took a look around himself. He frowned as he saw, spray-painted on the rubble of a broken brick wall, The Legion of Doom Was Right. "That's weird," he muttered.
Using his Martian vision, Martian Manhunter scanned the area, and his thick brow rose slightly in surprise. "It looks like we're not the only ones in this part of the city."
The three Justice Leaguers moved forward to get a better vantage point, only to find themselves looking at what seemed to be a war of superhumans, with the opponents on both sides already decided. This was no battle between heroes and villains, despite the familiar-looking costumes that many of them wore. There were no heroes here, nor any true villains. These were, if anything, super-powered gladiators whose deaths were meant as entertainment for the crowds.
The hulking figure of Bane had already managed to overpower Judomaster, and before he could even react, still stunned as he was, Bane had thrown the martial arts master over his knee, belly-up. He didn't even bother to mutter any words as he broke Judomaster's back, crippling him completely.
As Man-Bat swooped in from the sky, he failed to stop the Predator from expertly firing an energy-projectile at Peacemaker's back, which shattered right through the man's armor and out through his chest. It wasn't until his body struck the ground that Peacemaker's brain realized he was about to die. Man-Bat could do nothing to help him except knock the Predator down.
Three men standing on a banister -- the Crimson Avenger, the Vigilante, and Wild Dog -- shot down eight barely recognizable foes in a hail of gunfire, creating a morbid scene as the walking corpses flinched with every bullet, but still didn't fall down dead for several long moments, until there were none left standing.
The Shining Knight leaped from her flying steed, Winged Victory, and threw a huge mace at the Riddler's head, knocking out all of his teeth and destroying half of his face. Without medical attention, he would die within minutes.
Black Adam reached his powerful fingers into Amazo's eye sockets and crushed the android's head even as he pulled it from Amazo's body, which continued trying to fight for several more minutes, a futile effort made all the more difficult since he couldn't see a thing.
The powerful form of Solomon Grundy was taking on a group of New Bloods all by himself, crushing the windpipes of two, while another one shot several miniature explosives at Solomon's back and head. Despite the efforts of these "ants," the pale swamp monster fought on.
"Guys, what in the world is going on here?" gasped the Elongated Man as they saw the carnage.
"Could this be some new multiversal Crisis?" suggested J'onn J'onzz. "Several of these combatants appear to be from Earth-Two, Earth-S, Earth-Four, and possibly other parallel Earths as well."
"Even if that's what this is, it doesn't explain what we're seeing," said the Atom. "You can't tell the heroes and the villains apart from one another!"
"Perhaps the heroes are under mental control, causing them to be so violent," said J'onn. "Recall during the Crisis when Psycho-Pirate was causing panic, fear, and anger on Earths Four, S, and X, and--"
Suddenly, an explosion nearby caused all three to flinch and duck for cover. When the noise began to die down, Ralph stretched his neck out to see what had caused the explosion. He was surprised when he saw a huge gray-skinned man crawl out of the wreckage of a city bus.
Doomsday rushed forward, his mammoth gray fists speckled with blood, both fresh and dried. He had been "neutered" long ago, when all of his bone spurs had been shaved down and covered over with gray flesh. When the hulking gray figure punched at a foe, they would no longer necessarily die immediately, as they wouldn't be penetrated by bone spurs that ripped apart flesh. But Doomsday's strength was still legendary, and his mindlessness allowed him to be controlled by others who sought to wield his great power for their own purposes.
Thus, when the three Justice Leaguers saw him lumbering toward them, a murderous gleam on his face, they knew they were in trouble.
"I recognize that monster," said the Elongated Man. "It's Doomsday! He fought Captain Comet during the alien invasion of '86, and from what Comet told me, Doomsday is one of the most powerful creatures in the world!"
"Then brace yourselves," said the Martian Manhunter, "because we may be in the fight of our lives!"
"Wait!" said the Atom. "Look! Up in the sky!"
As the others looked to where the Atom was pointing, they saw a speeding figure dressed in blue, red, and yellow heading straight for the monster. Before they could fully register who it was, Superman had landed a powerful blow upon the creature, who was immediately stunned by a series of non-stop punches to his jaw.
Superman was joined a moment later by a female figure dressed in an outfit similar to his. Superwoman helped Superman against the great beast, and the two tag-teamed Doomsday for several moments before the creature began to suffer from the prolonged beating.
Doomsday's jaw became unhinged from the blows, and one final punch struck it completely off. The mortal blow left the creature reeling, and he would die in confusion some moments later. Just as quickly as they had arrived, Superman and Superwoman left to join the battle a few blocks away.
The sounds of a crowd cheering could be heard, and for the first time the Justice Leaguers realized that there was an audience of spectators watching this battle from behind a force-field.
"Yeah!" cried one fourteen-year-old boy. "Did you see his jaw? It popped right off!"
"I can't wait to see the instant playback!" said his friend, who was the same age. "Talk about up close and personal!"
"Never thought I'd see anyone kill Doomsday!" said the first.
"Aw, they'll clone another one. He'll be back next month for a rematch."
"Did you hear that?" said J'onn J'onzz to his teammates. "This bloodbath is mere entertainment to them!"
"This sure isn't a nice place to visit," drolled Ralph Dibny, "and I sure as hell wouldn't want to live here."
Adam Cray was still in too much shock to say much of anything, but he managed to croak out, "That -- that was Superman who... who took off that creature's head!"
"That was not Superman," said the Martian Manhunter. "Or at least, it wasn't our Superman. Yes, he had a strong familial resemblance, but it was not Kal-El."
"If this is some kind of dark future, could that be Superman's son?" suggested the Elongated Man. "That Superwoman didn't look much like Kristin Wells, either, but it could've been a grown-up Jasma."
"If so, the Superman we saw would more reasonably have been Kent Shakespeare," said J'onn in a hushed tone. "Though I can't imagine either of them doing what they did if Superman had been around to instill in them the same values that he has."
"Superman doesn't kill," said the Atom.
"Indeed," said J'onn. "But this Superman and Superwoman evidently do."
Then a harsh voice shouted at them from above, "Whose side are you on? I don't recognize your colors. Do you fight for the League or the Society?"
The Martian Manhunter stepped forward. "We fight for no one. We're not participating in this little bloodbath... Kent."
In a split second, the figure of this world's Superman was standing nose-to-nose with J'onn J'onzz. "What did you say?" he breathed in a threatening tone.
"I am J'onn J'onzz, the Manhunter from Mars, and I stand with the Justice League... of 1988."
Superwoman now joined them, and up close the Justice Leaguers recognized that this golden-skinned, blonde Superwoman was indeed a grown-up Jasma, some thirty years older. "Kent, stop!" she cried, before the Superman could begin the attack she was sure would come within seconds. "Listen to his heartbeat! There's no deceit there. He's telling the truth!"
"Impossible," said Kent.
"When has time travel ever been impossible for Superman?" said Ralph Dibny.
"Shut up, rubber ducky," Kent said, and with the flick of a finger, he knocked the Elongated Man out cold.
"We don't know what kind of games you're playing here, but we want no part of them," said the Martian Manhunter.
"Why? Do you think you're so much better than us?" demanded Superman. "Who are you to judge me and Jasma? If you're who you say you are, you're the worst monsters of all!"
"Kent!" warned Jasma, trying to calm down her husband. She knew how hot his blood boiled after he'd been in battle. "I don't think they're supposed to be here in the Arena. If they're time travelers, they can't know what happened in their future."
"That's right," said Kent with a smirk. "It was twenty-seven years ago for us, but still a year in your future."
"What's in our future?" asked the Atom.
"You old-timers really don't know when to quit talking, do you?" Kent said threateningly.
"Leave him be," said the Martian Manhunter, who had already picked up the prone and sagging form of the Elongated Man. "We didn't travel here intentionally. You may have heard of Neron in your time. It was he who sent us here from 1988. We confronted him after he sent the Legion of Doom after us, and we hope to prevent them from committing any further atrocities."
"The Legion of Doom?" said Kent, and he began to laugh. "You're kidding, right?"
"Why?" said the Martian Manhunter, suddenly feeling a strange tugging from within, that seemed to be pulling him away. "What is so funny about the Legion of Doom?"
But the world around the three Justice Leaguers had already vanished into a purple mist before they could hear the answer.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jul 20, 2017 20:52:51 GMT
Chapter 10: Mean Streets
Green Lantern, Aquaman, and Hawkman and Hawkwoman found themselves in a dark city enshrouded by night. Across the street, call girls plied their trade, while gang-bangers were shooting up in a run-down park nearby. Abandoned cars lined the streets, in some cases completely blocking the thruways. Wherever they were, the fate of this city looked grim.
The three Justice Leaguers had arrived a few moments earlier, but after noticing the shocked and terrified looks they received from passersby, Green Lantern used his power ring to disguise their appearance. Now they looked like laborers or vagrants.
"I think we should walk a bit farther down the street before we take to the air," said Green Lantern. "It doesn't look like these people are used to seeing super-heroes flying around."
"I still want to know where we are," said Aquaman. "I don't sense any aquatic life nearby at all, unless you count the sewer rats below us."
"Was there a war here?" suggested Hawkman. "It might explain why this city looks so drained of all life and commerce. We haven't seen one storefront that wasn't barred and boarded up since we arrived."
"All I see are predators and prey," said Hawkwoman. "No families or children around at all." Hawkman placed one arm around her back beneath her wings. The long-married couple were still dealing with what Neron had forced them to face in his efforts to break them down.
"I see a park down the street that looks to be empty," said Green Lantern. "Let's head over there and then get our bearings. It'll be better than simply flying or becoming invisible right here on the street."
Suddenly, the shrill sound of a terrified woman's shriek pierced the air. The four Justice Leaguers dropped all pretenses and shot forward through the air and on foot. Within seconds, they had reached the alleyway from which the sound had come.
Six young men were surrounding a teenage girl and her young sister, who both looked unkempt, as if they'd run away from home and been forced to scavenge in trash bins behind restaurants to survive.
With the merest thought, Green Lantern caused his power ring to shoot forth emerald plasma that quickly formed six willpower-constructed barriers that pushed each of the young gangbangers away from their prey.
Hawkman and Hawkwoman grabbed two-by-fours from the street and went to work on the would-be rapists, while Aquaman struck at them with his powerful fists and strength borne from ancestors who'd spent centuries beneath the tremendous pressures of the deep sea.
For a moment, the two would-be victims seemed relieved. But upon seeing what the newcomers could do, the teenager began screaming again, this time joined by her even more terrified little sister.
Then a spotlight shone down into the narrow canyon between buildings, and bathed the alleyway in bright light. The sound of rotor blades could be heard growing closer, until something huge and metallic landed atop the edge of the roof. And as the rotor blades stopped moving, a huge object leaped down from the rooftop and landed with a tremendous metallic thud a few feet away from the group.
It was a giant robot built for war, and it looked like a cross between Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still and the Batmobile.
"Stand down," came a voice from the robot's speaker system. "Cease and desist your illegal actions immediately, or we will be forced to use extreme measures."
"We've got this covered," said Green Lantern, who had taken that moment to wrap the three gangbangers in a glowing green net.
"Batman?" cried Hawkman. "Is that you in there?"
"I don't think so," said Aquaman. "Nothing living is in that thing."
"This is your final warning," said the giant robot. "Lie down and place your hands behind your heads."
"Is he talking to us?" said Hawkwoman.
"Help us!" cried the teenage girl. "Get them away from us!"
Green Lantern recognized sheer terror when he saw it, and it was clearly directed at them. "They're afraid of us," he said. "In their eyes, we're far worse than those guys who attacked them."
"That makes no sense," said Aquaman. "We're the ones who saved them."
The giant robot then moved faster than was thought possible, and thudded Aquaman in the back of his head with one extended iron hand, while the other did the same to Green Lantern before he could protect himself with his ring. Hawkman and Hawkwoman were in too much shock to react before they, too, were attacked. Grabbing their legs, the robot swung the two Thanagarians quickly behind him until they knocked each other out cold.
"Return to your home or nearest place of refuge, citizens," the robot shouted at the two girls. "If you are experiencing any trauma, visit the nearest police station during working hours to arrange for counseling. Have a safe evening, citizens."
At that, the giant robot leaped to the rooftop, the four Justice Leaguers in its arms, and flew off once its helicopter rotors had been activated once more.
***
Green Lantern, Aquaman, Hawkman, and Hawkwoman slowly awoke to find themselves in prison cells, their costumes and weapons removed and replaced by prison grays.
"Ouch!" said Hal Jordan. "Did anyone get the license plate of that truck?"
"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Katar Hol.
"Could that robot really have been built by Batman?" asked Shayera Hol.
"If so, this must be Gotham City -- but it's no Gotham City I've ever seen," said Aquaman.
"This must be some kind of apocalyptic future in which Gotham City is grimmer and darker than ever," said Green Lantern.
"You've hit the nail upon the head," said a computerized voice. A moment later, a man in a high-tech wheelchair rolled in. The shock of hair on his head was completely white, his mouth was covered by some kind of computerized voice box, and he had many wrinkles, but his intense, penetrating eyes were unmistakable.
"Bruce?" cried Green Lantern. "Is that really you?"
"Hal Jordan," he replied. "Katar and Shayera Hol. Arthur Curry. You won't need your other identities here, such as they may be. Gotham City is a superhuman-free zone, one of many such zones around the world. I only wish the world had followed our lead, and banished or exterminated the lot of you forever."
"What's going on here, Batman?" asked Hawkman. "We already guessed, based on the cars and mobile devices everywhere that we're in the future, and your advanced age confirms it."
"You're not about to tell me that you're time travelers from the past, are you?" said Bruce Wayne's computerized voice. "I've heard that line before, and it didn't do them any good, either."
"It's the only explanation," said Aquaman. "We're from 1988. We'd just confronted Neron, and he sent us through three portals. One of those portals took us here, to--"
"Gotham City," said Bruce. "Yes, yes, I've heard it all before. You're not the first ones to claim to be time travelers from the past. It's an old trick you superhumans have tried countless times before. I never fell for it then, and I'm certainly not about to fall for it now."
"Is there any way we can prove it?" suggested Hawkwoman. "We need to return to our own time. Neron may have freed the Legion of Doom, and sent them to kill everyone we know and love."
"The Legion of Doom, you say?"
"Yes, they're the ones who tried to kill the Justice League," said Green Lantern, "and now they may be taking advantage of our absence to do the unthinkable."
"They tried, and failed," said Bruce Wayne. "But never fear -- the Legion of Doom still lives, and they'll finish the job that they once began."
The Justice Leaguers glanced at each other in confusion a moment before the lights turned on, and they were able to see a horde of people standing behind the wheelchair-bound Bruce Wayne. Some of these figures appeared to be former criminals now wearing civilian clothing, while the rest looked like ordinary people off the street, and a few were gang members wearing Batman T-shirts.
"I know, because we are the Legion of Doom," said the former Batman.
But before anything further could be explained, the world surrounding the four Justice Leaguers began to vanish into purple smoke, even as their costumes and weapons returned to them.
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Post by starskyhutch76 on Jul 21, 2017 2:56:16 GMT
great to see this going again.
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Post by lawrenceliberty on Jul 28, 2017 17:35:26 GMT
I agree. A welcome return and very well done.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jul 29, 2017 22:25:29 GMT
Chapter 11: Warp ZoneThe Flash, Zatanna, Green Arrow, and Black Canary found themselves in a very different city, but one which was recognizable at first glance. This was Times Square in New York City, but as the neon signs and billboards all around them proclaimed, this section of Manhattan was known as the Warp Zone. The name was a familiar one to these heroes who remembered the Crisis on Infinite Earths, for during the brief period when Earths One and Two were partially merged, this part of New York City was known as the Warp Zone because of the strange time anomalies that had existed within, which brought together many epochs of past, present, and future. This was a very different Warp Zone than the one during the Crisis, however. This Warp Zone appeared to be a hedonistic pleasure zone where everyone on the street wore costumes of one kind or another, and every kind of commercialized sex shows were available for public consumption or participation. Pornographic images featuring bare and scantily clad super-women and super-men in various positions assaulted their senses from nearly every direction. The four Justice Leaguers walked past a group of four transsexual boys dressed in Teen Titans costumes inspired by the Rocky Horror Picture Show acting as street hawkers, declaring that for a reasonable price they could watch "The Perils of Kara" live on the stage of the XXX-treme Justice Theater. A poster below the marquee portrayed a Supergirl double tied up in bondage gear and wearing a threadbare costume and a gag over her mouth. "Well, you're a sight for sore eyes, luv," said the first man they'd seen wearing no costume at all. It was a middle-aged blonde man with a shaggy white beard and sunken eyes, wearing an extremely wrinkled shirt beneath an equally wrinkled and stained tan trenchcoat. Zatanna's ears perked up immediately as she recognized the accented voice. "John?" "Hello, luv," said an aged John Constantine as he sidled up to the four Justice Leaguers, evidently drunk and unable to keep himself still. He was a broken man who looked like he needed to keep himself inebriated at all times in order to deal with some past trauma. "What're you doing with these queer ducks?" "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to see you, Johnny," said Zatanna, and hugged the older man. In another lifetime, back when she was in college, they had been inseparable. But many years had passed between them since then, and the death of her father during a seance arranged by John Constantine in 1986 had set an irrevocable distance between them ever since. (*) Now that Zatara was alive and well again, the hardness in her heart against her old friend had begun to lift. "What in the world has happened... well, to the world?" [(*) Editor's note: See John Constantine, Hellblazer: The War of Darkness and Light.]"If you hadn't noticed already, you're in the Warp Zone," said John, "where anything goes. You name it, somebody's done it here, or will do it fer a price." "And why are you here?" asked Black Canary, looking at the old drunk disdainfully. "I'm always where I'm needed most," the Englishman replied, pulling out a pack of Silk Cuts and lighting up a cigarette. "Trouble is, nobody in this rancid old world has needed me for a very long time. Now that you're here, I'm guessin' that's about to change. Turns out it's a good thing I was here, after all, eh wot?" Constantine began to laugh before he was interrupted by a fit of coughing as the Justicer Leaguers looked on with concern.
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Post by johnreiter902 on Aug 4, 2017 12:05:53 GMT
It's good to see this is still going. Very nice descriptive material. Personally, it's a little deep for me right now. I can't wait until they get back to bopping the bad guy (Neron).
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Post by starskyhutch76 on Aug 4, 2017 17:41:02 GMT
This grungy s&M super hero reality reminds me of the future of the character Marshall Law.
I can't wait to see where this all goes.
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