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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:10:39 GMT
Chapter 1: Underworld Unleashedby Doc Quantum The air reeked of brimstone and furnace heat, yet strangely it was also as cold as a blustery winter's day. There seemed to be no middle ground between either extremes in this place. If you weren't freezing, you were being boiled alive. Or at least that's how it appeared from outside this strange cave, where several figures now gathered in uncomfortable silence. Each of them had been given a personal invitation to the gathering, along with a gift -- a single, long candle made of black wax that, when lit at the stroke of midnight, had transported them here. Some of them had already met their host, the man who had gathered them there. But in some cases, an emissary was sent to them, someone who owed favor or two. They came in silence and remained unusually quiet after having arrived there. It was, perhaps, because they were all-too aware of what the present surroundings reminded them of. But it may also have been their unfamiliarity with one another. None of them there were big names. None had made front-page headlines in any of the world's newspapers. None had been commemorated in the rogues' galleries of their respective foes. They were second-stringers and unknowns on Earth, every one of them, and until offered this second chance, that's all they would have remained. Not all of them were sure about their decision to come, of course, but their host had chosen well. With one exception, all those he had chosen he knew would accept his offer. After all, they had little to lose and much to gain. Only two among those gathered even knew each other. These were the Thanagarian rogue known as Kasta the Thrill-Killer and his sometime-partner, Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame. The latter was a gray-haired hulk of a man dressed in an outfit of green, red, and purple, which by some cosmic coincidence -- or perhaps something less coincidental -- was almost exactly like that of Alan Scott, the Green Lantern of Earth-Two. Lord Malvolio was a huge man made of pure muscle and bulk who appeared to be human yet whose enlarged features belied an extraterrestrial heritage as well. Lord Malvolio claimed to have been born in England four hundred years earlier, the spawn of a human mother and a long-lived alien father who was the Green Lantern of a faraway space sector. According to Malvolio's own account, he killed his father some two hundred years ago upon the moment that he spied weakness in the older man. He was, of course, completely and utterly mad like his Thanagarian companion. That was likely why he was the first to speak. "I count eleven amongst our number, yet in this crowd I see not the man who extended his invitation to Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame," the madman from the stars said. "I owe this man a debt for freeing me from my prison in the Stygian depths of space two years past, and I fully intend to repay him thus. (*) But I shall not be kept waiting." [(*) Editor's note: See Captain Comet's Rehab Squad: Strange Visitors, Chapter 3: Battleground Australia.]"Nor I," said Kasta, who wore nothing but a fur loincloth and a bright red animal-skin covering his back and head that had once been a kasta bird, which looked eerily similar to a pterodactyl from Earth's prehistory. Coming from an extremely technological society on Thanagar -- a society plagued in more recent years by an equalizing disease that made everyone exactly the same -- he had always sought individuality and prized his savage nature, cultivating it through hedonistic acts of pure malice and iniquity in all its myriad forms. His favorite game was to hunt heroes, and he had killed many champions, first on Thanagar and later throughout the galaxy. He had come to blows against the Wingmen -- the Thanagarian police -- several times in his youth, including a young Katar Hol. (*) But that was many, many years ago, and the breadth and width of his evil had grown much since then. Although his ruthlessness helped him later become a useful tool of the Thanagarian Empire under Empress Hyathis, his very nature had worked against him from within the system, and he was now an outcast, doomed to wander the stars and spread mischief wherever he could find it. His eyes darted around quickly as he eyed one of only two women in the crowd, a blond wearing a robe. "And I get bored when I am kept waiting," he continued. "Bored... and skittish." He reached out one hand to the woman, brushing his fingertips against her robe. He managed to pull off her hood to reveal a beautiful blonde head of hair, and his eyes danced with visions of what he would do to that head. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Big Kill," DC Comics Presents #95 (July, 1986).]"Do not test me, dog, or you will find out too late the power of Allura," the woman spat. She raised her arms and chanted a rhyming spell: "O fool who has such gall; Move back against the wall!"Kasta the Thrill-Killer was suddenly thrust back against a cavernous wall by an unseen force. Struggling painfully to arise, he wore a sickly grin of pleasure as he did so. "Now that's my kind of woman!" Allura turned and covered her blonde locks with her hood once more. Her appearance belied her true nature, for she was an elemental without a body who had long ago possessed her good twin from another dimension, named Allura the Good. The evil Allura had been a brunette, while Allura the Good was blonde. Allura had fought not only Zatanna and her father Zatara before her, but several members of the Justice League of America as well. Still, they had only managed to defeat her when Zatara found her doppelgänger in a dimension not far removed from the world known as Earth-Three. (*) Allura had only remained defeated for a short time, and she had gotten her revenge when she possessed the body of her good twin, using her enemy's body to continue her evil schemes. But she had not yet vanquished the spirit of Allura the Good, for she feared that attempting to do so would merely free her enemy from her physical body as Allura had been freed long ago. The host who had called this meeting promised to take the soul of Allura the Good and grant Allura her body once and for all. In exchange, she would have an opportunity to battle the spawn of Zatara once more. [(*) Editor's note: See "Z, as in Zatanna, and Zero Hour," Justice League of America #51 (February, 1967).]Watching the exchange between Kasta the Thrill-Killer and Allura, a man dressed in a brown and red costume began to have second thoughts about coming here. He had been a one-shot super-villain known as the Falcon and had once made himself the master of Midway City, taming Hawkman himself and stealing jewels and other priceless items with the help of birds that he controlled through a specially designed ray he installed in a skyscraper. (*) That was a long time ago, and he was now utterly forgotten, having spent the intervening years plying a trade as a mere scientist's assistant. But his thirst for power and wealth had never died. Still, it was a very different reason that had brought him here. He was here for love. There was a very special woman in his life that he would die for, that he would even kill for. But there was only one hitch -- she didn't love him back and, indeed, claimed to never want to see his face again. The host of this gathering had promised the Falcon that in exchange for a small price, this woman would not only return his affection but would love him for the rest of his life and join him as his partner in crime, his Lady Falcon. No court order would prevent him from seeing her ever again. Watching Kasta's behavior, he whispered to an archer in blue, "That dude is nuts." [(*) Editor's note: See "Quoth the Falcon, 'Hawkman, Die'," Hawkman #22 (October-November, 1967).]"Whatever," the Blue Bowman said, unsure of why he was here in the first place. True, Herb Vraney had gone to prison under his latest guise in his current costume -- which strongly resembled Robin Hood -- after his foray against Batman and Green Arrow, but he would have broken out himself eventually. (*) But the allure of the candle and freedom in exchange for some small favor was too much for him. He looked around at all the faces of everyone present and recognized no one. There wasn't a heavy-hitter among them. This scheme was as sure to fail as attempting to win a contest of wits against both Batman and Green Arrow. [(*) Editor's note: See The Brave and the Bold: Batman and Green Arrow: Mixed Signals.]The native American man next to him was long-haired and wore red face paint; otherwise, he looked ordinary in his faded blue jeans and black T-shirt. He had abandoned his three lifelong friends in the Renegades to come here, but he had been growing apart from them for a long time, anyway. (*) He sought godhood and power, while they seemed content with petty crime and the occasional politically motivated raid against the white man's institutions. But then they had never felt the thrill of watching the world slow down to a crawl as you soar effortlessly through it. The man who had been given the lofty name of Chief Crazy Horse at birth and who had once been blessed with speed by the gods themselves was determined to be more than his brothers -- and his very people -- would ever have allowed. [(*) Editor's note: See "Divided We Die?" Freedom Fighters #11 (November-December, 1977) and The Brave and the Bold: Arsenal and Owlwoman: With Some Reservations.]The costumed schizoid thief known as Magpie had the most attention-getting looks in the place, with an elaborate hairdo with some parts of her scalp shaved while others were teased out into long spikes. She was also dressed in fishnet stockings, an ornate silver top, and red gloves, and she wore large red sunglasses. Magpie scowled as she looked over the crowd. This was a far cry from the Secret Society of Super-Villains that she had once been a part of, and even then she had hated every minute of it, although she managed to make it worth her while by skimming profits and stealing outright from that organization. (*) Magpie was never a team player and was only in this business because of her love for all things sparkling and shiny. From her point of view, they were already hers and deserved to be; all she need to was to take them. But Margaret Pye, her alternate personality, had been retaking her body as of late, making Magpie's hold weaker each time. After today, she would never have to turn back into that simpering Margaret ever again. And she would have the edge that she had always lacked against the costumed heroes and villains alike she occasionally came up against. Turning around, constantly in search of wealth to plunder, she accidentally bumped against a man dressed in a green costume. " Watch it," she hissed. [(*) Editor's note: See Secret Society of Super-Villains: Rank and File, Book 1: Reflections and Secret Society of Super-Villains: The Hidden Menace.]"Sorry, toots," said Malleable Man, a crook named Skizzle Shanks, whose stretchable green costume completely covered him from head to toe. He was in this for the glory. For years he had watched his ex-partner Eel O'Brian make it big as the superhero Plastic Man, but it was only two and a half years ago that he figured out how to gain the same powers as the Eel. But merely having the same powers as Plastic Man hadn't been enough to defeat his ex-friend, especially when teamed up not only with Elongated Man and Jimmy Olsen as Elastic Lad, but also Superman himself. (*) Shanks had seen how well teamwork had helped that makeshift team, and he knew he needed to be part of a mob again. He had recognized only one person in the crowd and had allowed his tiny friend to sit on top of his shoulders. It was a bit weird, but Mouse Man had helped him out once before. "Youse OK up dere, li'l guy?" [(*) Editor's note: See "That's the Way the Heroes Bounce," DC Comics Presents #93 (May, 1986).]"I'm doing just fine," said Mouse Man in an unusually high-pitched voice that made him sound comically like a certain cartoon character, an image that wasn't helped by the fact that he was dressed like a brown mouse, complete with fake mouse ears and a cowl that mimicked a mouse's nose. He preferred to remain quiet most of the time; it was hard to be taken seriously with a voice like his, especially in this business. Mouse Man was used to having to watch out for himself. He hadn't done much except pester the original Wonder Woman in her early days, back when he first discovered how to shrink himself to the size of a mouse. (*) Unfortunately, he had never discovered how to regain his original size. If their host was to be believed, Mouse Man would gain full control over his size and be able to do things he had long ago given up dreaming about. He didn't care what he had to do to regain his life; he would simply do whatever their host asked of him. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Academy of Arch-Villains," Wonder Woman #141 (October, 1963).]Not far away stood the figure known as Dagon, who eyed Mouse Man almost hungrily behind his rubbery purple mask and costume that gave him the appearance of the Creature from the Black Lagoon. He was as obscure as any in this room, but he had a hatred for Aquaman that had not been quenched even after a decade since they last fought. (*) He had always considered his Dagon mask to be more representative of the darkness within his soul -- his true self -- than the pale, handsome features he had been born with. Something very dark and very, very old had stirred within his soul from a very young age, but until now he lacked the ability to reach that darkness. The group's host had been able to see the very same and promised to make his true appearance more like that of the Deep Ones he worshipped. [(*) Editor's note: See "Battle Against the Mindless Uniforms," Justice League of America #35 (May, 1965).]Off to one side, away from the rest of the group, stood a green-skinned figure in the uniform of a Martian warlord who had, until recently, been an inmate in a space prison. Two times had the Marshal battled J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, only to lose. (*) The Marshal would not lose again. But he, like the others, was growing impatient. " Show yourself!" he shouted, startling the group by his loud, imperious voice. [(*) Editor's note: See "War of the Worlds, 1984: Part Three: Blessed is the Peacemaker," Justice League of America #230 (September, 1984) and Justice League of America: Between Sea and Sky.]"I am here, C'yk Eda," said another voice, louder than the first. The entire group of second-rate villains turned as one to see a large, muscular man with pale skin and blonde hair, whose handsome face bespoke both power and wealth, and whose dark eyes bespoke other things entirely. While he had met several of them in a fine Italian suit, he was now dressed in an outfit that looked much like many of their own or like that of a superhero's, except one that looked like it had been made for a king. It was white, with green boots, wristguards, belt, and shorts, as well as a hooded cape. A green jewel, encrusted in gold, rested on the man's chest. "Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. And welcome to my abode. My name is Neron, and I have come to offer each of you a second chance at your failed, pathetic excuse for a life." "Now just wait one minute!" shouted Kasta the Thrill-Killer. "I have lived over eighty of your Earth years, making my speciality hunting the champions of every world I come across. Through my mighty frame courses the energies of suns themselves, and of the very antimatter that destroyed a thousand universes! Who are you to call me failed or pathetic?" "You were not invited, Thanagarian, and you try my patience," said Neron. "I warn you, choose your next words very carefully." "Oh, I need no more words to have done with you," said Kasta, wearing a sickly grin on his face. "I've eaten bugs like you for breakfast, and I can taste the energy pouring from you from here. A nice, light snack." At that, he lunged at the jewel upon Neron's chest and attempted to absorb its energies. Instead, he fell back in horror as he realized what he was attempting to consume -- who he was attempting to consume. He managed to mutter something in Thanagarian, and then Neron was upon him. Faster than anyone -- except Chief Crazy Horse -- could see, Neron was on him like a vampire, and the blackened soul of Kasta the Thrill-Killer was absorbed into Neron's jewel, leaving a dried-out husk behind, which quickly turned to dust. The crowd was speechless. "Will there be any further interruptions?" said Neron. When no one spoke, he looked at Kasta's former companion and said, "Lord Malvolio, you brought your friend here with you. Do you have a problem with the way I've handled this unpleasantness?" "Not at all," said Malvolio calmly. "Good," said Neron, smiling slightly as he began to get back into the character of a salesman making his pitch. "Then let me begin." The original snake-oil salesman then spoke to the remaining ten villains for several minutes, reminding them -- sometimes in detail -- of the many failures that they had endured over the years at the hands of heroes. He told them how, no matter what they had tried to do on their own, they were completely unable to change who they were or make themselves equal to the champions who had bested them. He brought them low, showing how their lives would continue to be mediocre and utterly forgettable should they leave this place without accepting his offer. By the time he was done, any illusions they had that they still had any glories to look forward to were shattered. And then he offered them hope. "For the small price of your soul, I will change things for you," he began. "You will have glory beyond measure on the Earth and beyond. You will be my Legion of Doom against the heroes of this world, and it will be glorious. And each one of you will have, in addition, your greatest desire fulfilled. You have each told me what you want in exchange for the small price I ask, and mark my words -- you will get what you paid for." Neron paused for a moment to look upon the faces of the ten gathered there. None of them had reached their potential on their own, but together -- with Neron's help -- they would be a force to be reckoned with. "But you will not have to battle those heroes alone," said Neron. "You will be led by my inner council, my unholy trinity!" He turned, and a cave wall dissolved into mist to reveal a stone table, behind which sat three familiar-looking figures who sat in shadows, their outlines nevertheless familiar to almost all present. "Superman!" said the startled Malleable Man, who stretched his neck up and forward to get a closer look. "Batman," hissed Magpie, rearing her back defensively. "Wonder Woman?" squeaked Mouse Man on Malleable Man's shoulders. "No, these are their arch-enemies -- their evil doppelgängers," said Neron. "That don't look like Lex Luthor ta me," said Malleable Man. "Nor the Joker," noted the Blue Bowman. "Gathered from beyond the pale, these three are my chosen ones," continued Neron. "This is not the Superman that you know, but Super-Menace," he said, and light shone upon the energy duplicate of Superman. Super-Menace was nearly identical in every way to the Man of Steel, except his eyes were dark and cruel, and his face was unshaven and haggard-looking. He was a corrupted portrait of the Kryptonian hero who lacked the virtue of his doppelgänger, and he had been used as a weapon by a criminal couple who found him when he was just a baby. All his life he did as he was asked to gain power for those he saw as his parents, only to discover that he had been nothing more than their pawn. He had ultimately chosen to self-destruct, taking their lives along with his own, rather than continue living a lie. (*) Now that he was back, he would truly be unleashed. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Two Faces of Superman," Superman #137 (May, 1960).]"And the man next to him is the Wrath," said Neron, and the light shone upon a man wearing a costume of deep red and purple, with a purple horned cowl and cape and a purple W emblazoned over a red bodysuit. His countenance was not merely grim but also diabolical. He resembled the Batman of Gotham City in many more ways than merely his appearance, having vowed to wage a lifelong war against lawmen after his parents were shot and killed by a Gotham City police officer who later rose to the rank of police commissioner. Like his counterpart, the Wrath spent his entire life training and gathering the skills he would need, except that he used his skills to become a professional hitman and building a reputation for himself in the underworld. Like Super-Menace, he had been a force to be reckoned with whose time was cut short before he had discovered his full potential. (*)And he would not allow himself be diverted any longer planning revenge schemes; James W. Gordon would feel his wrath, yes, but only at the chosen time. [(*) Editor's note: See "The Player on the Other Side," Batman Special #1 (1984).]"This beautiful, powerful woman at his side is the Dark Commander," Neron continued. This time the light shone upon a woman who, like the others, greatly resembled a hero -- in this case the original Wonder Woman. While the physical resemblance was uncanny, she wore a very different outfit of silver armor. An ornate helmet rested before her upon the stone table. She was a warrior born and, like Nubia, an adopted daughter of Mars who had also inherited attributes from her ancestor Penthesilea, the sister of Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons. Like the master of the undead from whom she took her name, she had an air of death around her. But to her everlasting shame, she had not died in battle but had died in her sleep from a brain injury sustained during her initial encounter with Nubia one year ago, forcing her into a vulnerable position after death that Neron had swiftly exploited to give her a second chance. (*) And she would use it to spread the doctrine of Mars upon the Earth. [(*) Editor's note: See Wonder Woman: Daughter of Mars.]"My unholy trinity will lead you and join with you to become thirteen in all -- my Legion of Doom!" said Neron. "All I need to know is -- will you accept my offer?" Afterward, no one could remember who stepped forward first, nor what had happened, exactly. All that they knew was that everyone in that room signed Neron's contract and became more than what they had been before. As the group began to clear out, each one lighting a candle to take them back home, Neron approached the woman who wore both the cloak and the blonde woman's body within it. "You know what you have to do, Allura," he said. "It shall be done," she replied, smiling.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:18:58 GMT
Chapter 2: A Dead Man's Wrathby Doc Quantum, Gamma Xmen and Starsky Hutch 76 A gentle fog obscured the view one late evening on a lonely street in Manhattan. There was no one around but two couples, one coming from down the street and the other crossing the street. Both couples were headed for the same destination -- a little shop in a dilapidated neighborhood that hadn't changed since the 1960s. The sign on the storefront window said Oblivion, Inc.The two walking down the street were a white man in a red, white, and blue costume and an African-American woman in a skintight orange costume. They were Steel the Indestructible Man and Vixen, two members of the Justice League of America who had both joined the group when that team was based in Detroit. Vixen had disappeared during the Crisis on Infinite Earths almost three years ago, only to return last year with partial amnesia. (*) All she knew was that she had not been on Earth -- or at least not on Earth-One. Ever since then, Steel -- and Heywood Industries' Dale Gunn -- had been trying to help her readjust to life back in the real world. She had retained her JLA membership but had chosen not to participate in any of the team's cases until now. It had taken months of hard work for her to return to a state of normalcy, but she was finally building a life for herself again in her civilian identity of Mari Jiwe McCabe, a rising supermodel. She had only now become comfortable enough to don her superhero costume once more. [(*) Editor's note: See DC Universe: Invasion, Book 2, Chapter 2: Home.]Steel, whose real name was Hank Heywood III, was a young multimillionaire who had inherited his grandfather's entire estate after the old man's disappearance during the Crisis on Infinite Earths. He felt personally responsible for Vixen, even retaining a sense of guilt for what happened to her. Somehow, he felt that his ruthless grandfather had been behind it all. He had been determined to make right everything that his grandfather had done wrong, and to that end he had tried to reform Heywood Industries, making it a leader in good corporate stewardship of the planet. The shareholders had taken a hit at first, but through perseverance and the help of Dale Gunn (not to mention the tutelage of both Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen) he had managed to take the company through this time of transition. He didn't think he was about to make the cover of Forbes anytime soon, but he was proud of what he had accomplished in turning what many saw as an evil corporation with bad business practices into something that was more of a force for good. The other two who now crossed the street toward the little shop called Oblivion, Inc. were a crimson android and a man whose head was completely aflame. Had anyone else been on the street at the time, they would surely have drawn stares for their unusual appearances. The Red Tornado and Firestorm were both longtime members of the JLA, yet they still felt like rookies in the team, given that they shared the team with Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, and other heroes of great renown. Like Steel, they had both taken part in the recent case involving the Red Brotherhood, an offshoot of the legendary Manhunters -- a secret society of blue-skinned androids created by the Guardians of the Universe many thousands of years ago. (*) And it was for that reason that they now approached this small shop on a lonely Manhattan street. [(*) Editor's note: See Justice League of America: The Martian Chronicles.]They had received a tip about a Red Brotherhood cell that had apparently not been uncovered along with the rest, and they were determined to do their part to expose it. But Red Tornado and Firestorm had not expected to find any other Justice Leaguers there, too. As Firestorm reached for the door handle of the shop, Red Tornado spotted Steel and Vixen just down the block approaching them. Steel waved and shouted, "Hey, Reddy! Hey, ‘Storm! We didn't expect to see you here." "Nor did we," Red Tornado called back, waiting for the two to approach before continuing the conversation. "Let me guess. You're here because of the Red Brotherhood as well." "Right," said Vixen. "So it wasn't just Steel and I who were tipped off." Firestorm said, "No, we got a tip, too. I joined Reddy to make sure we'd have each other's back if we were walking into an ambush." "Well, I'm glad you're here," said Steel. "More the merrier." "Let's hurry and get this over with," said Vixen. "The street's far too quiet for this time of night -- gives me the creeps." "Agreed," said Firestorm, reaching for the door handle. The four Justice Leaguers entered the little shop, where they saw one man standing behind the counter awaiting them. Steel scanned the area with his cybernetic vision as he and his companions stepped cautiously forward, the door still open. "Hello, gentlemen," said the man at the counter, a handsome and slender man in his early forties with shoulder-length dark hair. "Hey, I recognize you!" said Firestorm. "Aren't you–?" " Jim!" said Vixen. "Jim Rook!" "Mari?" said Jim. "I'm surprised to see you here." "You can't be as surprised as I am to see you here, of all places," said Vixen. "Do you know this man?" asked Red Tornado. "You know Jim Rook?" asked Firestorm. " Legendary rock star Jim Rook?" "We met at a party once, a few years ago," said Vixen. "A model's life, you know. I should tell you how I met Mick Jagger sometime." Steel stepped forward and shook his hand. "I'm a fan, Mr. Rook." "So am I," said Firestorm, still in shock. "You're one of my idols! I must've listened to Sing a Song of Sorcery on vinyl a million times, and a million more on cassette tape." Jim smiled slightly and said, "Thank you. I'm afraid the critics didn't like that album, though." "It was brilliant," Firestorm continued. " Myrra's Aria practically became my theme song for awhile." He turned aside for a second and whispered to an inner voice, " Shut up, Professor." Turning back, he continued. "The tale of Nightmaster felt all-too real to me. It was epic." "Thanks again," said Jim, looking somewhat concerned as he glanced at Vixen. He hadn't expected Mari Jiwe McCabe to be here. This changed things. Still, Neron had made him agree to this, and Jim owed everything to him now. What would be so bad about sending a few Justice Leaguers to the other-dimensional world of Myrra, anyway? They'd probably fare as well as he did all those years ago, if not better. It would be just another adventure for them. "Mr. Rook, each of us received a tip about the Red Brotherhood," prompted Red Tornado. "Oh," said Jim. "Oh, yes. Right. Let me check in the back for a second, and I'll help you out." Steel glanced at Vixen with concern, who shot him and the others a look of her own to assure him that it was all right. Jim was a friend of hers, after all. They could trust him. The man who had been known as Nightmaster in the dimension of Myrra left the room through a rear door. A blonde woman wearing a hooded cloak stood alone in the back room waiting for him. "They're ready," Jim said quietly. "Excellent," said Allura, who had magically soundproofed the back room. "Then I will send them on their way." "They won't be hurt, will they?" asked Jim. "You weren't concerned about them when you made your agreement with Neron, were you?" said Allura. "So why should you be worried now?" "Well, I guess there's nothing that could harm them in Myrra," said Jim. "Especially not since they're all together like that." Allura remained quiet for a moment and raised her arms, concentrating on the front store room in the shop where the JLAers waited. This place was a nexus of sorts, a tear in the fabric of space-time that in 1969 had transported Jim Rook and his fiancé Janet Jones to Myrra. There, Jim took the Nightsword and became the costumed Nightmaster, fighting all manner of threats in that fantasy world in order to rescue Janet. They later returned to the real world, but Jim had been changed forever by the incident. (*) The nexus that was this shop would now allow the Justice Leaguers to be likewise transported to another dimension. [(*) Editor's note: See "Some Forbidden Fate," Showcase #82 (May, 1969).]The elemental named Allura began to weave a rhyming spell: "Four heroes art thee, brave and bold, Arrived here as our master foretold, Vanish, vanish and do not remain, Begone thee from thine earthly plane!"In the storefront of the shop, the four Justice Leaguers whirled as the room began to spin, and the very air around them began to whirl in strange colors. "Reddy, are you doing this?" asked Firestorm. "Not I," said Red Tornado. "But I'll use my powers to do everything I can to stop it." But try as he might, the android's wind powers were ineffective against this mystical vortex. And within a few moments, the four JLAers were swallowed whole. Reality itself collapsed within the room, and the vortex imploded. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the little shop of Oblivion, Inc. was silent once more. Jim Rook stepped out of the back room. "Well, that's it. They've been sent off to Myrra." He turned to Allura, who had removed her hood and stepped into the room as well. "You know, in a way I kind of envy them. Myrra's a crazy place, but it's a great place for adventure like none seen on Earth. Do you think they will be all right there?" Allura smiled wickedly and said to him, " Myrra? No one said anything about sending them to Myrra." She laughed and turned away to leave. Jim was left in the room alone as the realization hit him. If they're not in Myrra, they could be anywhere! he thought. Dear God, what have I done?*** In Gotham City, late that evening, the Batman was exhausted after apprehending Professor Achilles Milo once more and had driven homeward after dropping the criminal off at Arkham Asylum. Earlier, Milo had tried to pull off some kind of mass psychological experiment, with the citizens of Gotham City as the subjects. Batman stopped him, of course, but not before suffering a few injuries that had left some minor lacerations and deep bruising. Of course, Milo had used his psychoactive gas on Batman, but naturally the Dark Knight was prepared and had kept a gas mask in his utility belt ever since hearing about Milo's escape. He had already visited Dr. Douglas Dundee, who had treated his relatively minor wounds with his usual discretion. Still, he was exhausted, and it was no wonder, after forty-eight hours of no sleep and no food. Entering the Batcave, he parked the Batmobile and exited the vehicle, pulling his cowl off. He threw his cape and cowl to the floor and collapsed into a chair. He closed his eyes, awaiting sleep, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice that seemed to come from far away and yet also directly before him. "You think I'm out of your hair?" snarled the voice. "You think being dead will keep me from you and Gordon?"Bruce Wayne snapped his eyes open to see a ghost he'd long forgotten come back to haunt him. It was the apparition of a skeleton wearing a familiar costume that now hovered over Bruce's head. The specter was wearing the costume of his criminally inclined opposite, the man known only as the Wrath. "It can't be," Bruce breathed as he stared at this supposed ghost. "You recognize me, Batman?" the ghost cackled. "Good. That will make my revenge all the sweeter."Bruce collapsed to the floor, trying to shake off whatever it was. This must have been a hallucination brought on from Milo's psychoactive gas, he told himself. "You think telling yourself that I am just a figment your imagination will help you, Batman?" the Wrath hissed. "Think again. I can see into your thoughts, old man, and I can taste your fear."Batman struggled to rise, managing to mutter, "Shut up." "Because of you," the Wrath growled, "my parents remain unavenged. Because of you, Gordon still lives. But I swear -- before the week is over -- Gordon will be dead.""Shut up." Bruce grabbed ahold of the chair he was sitting in. "And then, I will avenge myself upon you -- my killer!"" Shut up!" Bruce threw the chair at the Wrath. The chair passed through the ghost, dissolving it and leaving only hysterical laughter in its wake. After a few moments, it became silent in the Batcave once more. The Batman's mind, however, was reeling. Was any of this real? he wondered. Did I really see the ghost of my opposite come back to haunt me? He kneeled on the floor and picked up his cape and cowl. "Funny how it happened," he mused aloud. "Especially since June 26th is coming up." That day was the anniversary of his parents' deaths. It was also the anniversary of the deaths of the Wrath's parents. On the very same night when a criminal named Joe Chill gunned down Bruce Wayne's parents, police officer James W. Gordon had shot and killed the parents of the boy who would be the Wrath. Two creatures of the night were born at that moment -- two opposites whose purposes were very different. While Bruce Wayne had vowed to bring all criminals -- all unjust people -- to justice, the man who would wear the blood red W on his cowl vowed to exterminate all lawmen -- all those who served the law. Years later, their obsessions brought them together through Commissioner James W. Gordon, the killer of the Wrath's parents. But the Batman had seen the Wrath fall from a rooftop while on fire, and his corpse was recovered. He was most certainly dead. Now, the supposed ghost of his opposite seemed to be haunting him. The Batman was determined to find his answers. *** The first thing the group of heroes noticed once their vision cleared was the red sky above them. A surge of panic went through them all as visions of the Crisis filled their heads. For a brief moment, they had all thought, It's starting again! Then they noticed the strange winged creatures soaring through the red sky and the stench of brimstone that filled the air. And they saw the gate. The letters inscribed upon the entryway of the heavy iron gate said, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." The heroes found themselves part of an endless line of the moaning and weeping damned that moved single file through this gate. "Please tell me we were transported inside one of Jim Rook's album covers, and we aren't really where I think we are," Steel said. "I'm afraid so," Firestorm said. "It looks like the guy stabbed us in the back." "Not intentionally, I'm sure!" Vixen said. "Jim's a good guy!" "Good guys don't send other good guys to Hell," Steel said. "What I don't get is, I can see you, Ronnie and me getting sent here, but Red? He's a robot. Robots don't have–" "Souls?" Red Tornado finished, raising one eyebrow. "It would appear that assumption was mistaken." "Hey, no offense," Steel blushed. "Oh, I'm sure," Red Tornado said, smirking. "Keep the line moving, scum!" a large-horned demon suddenly bellowed, shoving Steel. "Watch it!" Steel said, shoving back. "You dare, maggot?" the demon said, raising an axe up as if he meant to split him in two. With a gesture, a flame shot out of Firestorm's hand, incinerating the axe. The demon stared at Firestorm in shock, taking in his flaming hands and the flames rising from his head. " The Morningstar..." He then dropped to his knees before pressing his forehead to the ground in a deep bow. All nearby demons did the same, bowing and prostrating themselves before him. "What now?!" Firestorm exclaimed.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:32:26 GMT
Chapter 3: Starman Joins the JLAby Doc Quantum and Immortalwildcat Will Payton, the hero known as Starman, reached Earth's orbit after long months of travel through space. When his strange powers and abilities had begun to go inexplicably awry last November, he had sought help in space, inadvertently following in the wake of of Captain Comet and the Cometeer not long after his former team leader left Earth for his own reasons. (*) Despite never actually crossing paths with the good Captain in the vastness of outer space, Starman had many adventures of his own since then and did finally manage to get his powers back under control. But it had been a long trip back. He managed to hitch a ride in a hyperdrive-equipped alien space ship for awhile, but once in the vicinity of the solar system, he was forced to fly back the rest of the way. Thankfully, he didn't need to eat or breathe, or he would have been in trouble. His flight through the solar system alone had taken weeks at top speed, and for the first time he truly appreciated how vast and big space really was. [(*) Editor's note: See Captain Comet: A Higher Calling, Chapter 1: Leaving Earth Behind.]His long approach had not gone unnoticed by his allies. Green Lantern's ring had detected Starman as he was passing the orbit of Mars, and he made immediate preparations for his arrival at the JLA Satellite. At the expected time of arrival, the entire membership of the Justice League of America -- except for four absent members -- were gathered to welcome him. In November, around the same time that Starman left Earth, the JLA had taken a vote on accepting Starman as the newest member of the team. (*) The vote was unanimous, as Will Payton had proven himself a hero through and through and was judged worthy of Justice League membership. But Starman was nowhere to be found, so they were unable to induct him into the team and were forced to wait for his return from wherever he had gone. [(*) Editor's note: See DC Universe: Deus ex Machina, Epilogue: Do Only Good.]Now, 22,300 miles above the surface of the Earth, Starman approached the satellite headquarters of the JLA with some trepidation. It had been his dream for nearly three years, if not more, to join the Justice League, but time and again that dream had seemed just out of reach. He steeled his heart against another disappointment but hoped for the best. Within, Superman held a certificate prepared back in November. This was a membership certificate that all new members received upon joining the team. It had been part of a tradition begun when Green Arrow became the first new member of the original team of seven. The certificate read as follows: The certificate ended there, with a blank space in which the title of Starman's first case with the JLA -- his initiation -- would be written in. Since Starman had not yet received membership, however, this membership certificate would have to wait until he completed his first case with the team. Still, it was a mere formality, as the entire roster wanted him on the team. Superman looked up and spotted the approaching Starman. He had been periodically using his telescopic vision to track Starman's progress and had timed it exactly. "One minute, everyone," he said, placing the membership certificate in a drawer for later. "Time to get into place." "Yeah, yeah," said Green Arrow. "We know the drill." " Ollie," said Black Canary in a stern but loving tone, as only a wife could manage. "Don't be grumpy. This isn't about you, it's about Will." "I'll be good, pretty bird," said Green Arrow in a lighter tone. Marriage had done wonders for his attitude lately, as several JLAers had noticed. Green Lantern said, "I'll get the airlock." A few moments later, Will Payton walked into the meeting room in the JLA Satellite. He felt nervous but tried not to show it. " Hello, everyone! Sorry I couldn't make it to that meeting you asked me here for back in November. I, uh, was a bit busy. I'd only intended to go into space for a few days but ended up spending over seven months there. So... what did I miss?" "What didn't you miss?" said Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man. "For one thing, a few of our members got married. Green Arrow and Black Canary, Batman and a certain someone, and -- just recently -- Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman." "Wow!" said Starman, amazed. "And here I thought the team would be exactly the same as I'd left it. I wonder what I'll have to expect when I get back to Earth. I'm gonna really have to make it up to my family and friends. I told my ex-girlfriend that I'd be gone a week at the most. Mara's going to kill me!" "I'm sure you'll survive," said Black Canary, who walked up and gave Starman a hug. "Congratulations, you two," Will said to her and Green Arrow. "Hopefully, before too long, I'll be able to make things right with Dolphin." "Don't wait as long as we did to walk down the aisle, kid," said Green Arrow. "I don't know why I resisted the thought of getting hitched for so long. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me." Black Canary flashed her husband a loving look that told him she forgave "And I'm glad to hear about you two as well, J'onn and Nubia," continued Will. "But I've got to say that I'm still surprised. Somehow, I never thought either of you were the marrying types." He looked at Batman and uneasily began, "Uh, congratulations, Batm–" The darknight detective waved him off. "Thank you, but I have urgent business to take care of in Gotham City. Some unusual things are happening. Can we all get down to the reason we've gathered here? Superman, will you do the honors?" "Starman," began the Man of Steel, "we've watched you grow as a superhero ever since your days with Captain Comet in the months following the Crisis." (*) [(*) Editor's note: See Captain Comet's Rehab Squad: Suicide Mission.]Will began to get choked up as he listened. This was almost too good to be true. "You've proven yourself again and again to be a hero through your adventures with the Rehab Squad and in individual cases as well as those in which you teamed up with various members of the Justice League, including myself. (*) We've already taken a vote, and the results were unanimous. Starman, will you accept membership in the Justice League of America?" [(*) Editor's note: See Super-Team Family: Starman and Superman: The Final Night.]Starman was grinning ear to ear by now but was still too choked up to speak. Finally, after a moment he managed to speak. "Th-thank you, everyone. This is a real honor, and I have nothing left to say, except that I most heartily–" The lights suddenly went out, followed by the whirring of the air vents throughout the satellite, which now wound down and stopped. The team was thrust into darkness for only a moment before Green Lantern illuminated the space with green light from his power ring. "Is everyone all right?" he asked. "What's happening?" asked Adam Cray, the Atom. "All power and life support has shut down," said Hawkman. " That's strange," said the Flash. "J'onn and I inspected the entire satellite this morning, and everything was in tip-top shape." "Could a power surge have caused this?" asked Aquaman. "Or a sun flare?" suggested Hawkwoman. "It could also have been magical in nature," said Zatanna. "This could be mere foreshadowing of some great evil to come," she added, a faraway look in her eyes. "Whatever the reason," said Superman, "we'll have to temporarily evacuate the satellite right away. I can survive without air indefinitely, as can Starman, but the rest of you can't." "All aboard the Green Lantern express!" said the ringslinger, forming a glowing green engineer's cap on his head and a full-sized train in the middle of the meeting room. All except Superman, Starman, and Green Lantern himself then boarded the train, which flew through the walls of the satellite and back down to Earth, protecting the JLAers from the vacuum of space and reentry into Earth's atmosphere. On the satellite, Superman placed one hand on Starman's shoulder and said, "Sorry, Will. Unfortunate timing, I know, but we've got a mystery on our hands that will have to take precedence over your initiation." "The story of my life," grumbled Starman. As Green Lantern transported each of the Justice Leaguers to their respective homes, Batman was going over in his mind an incident that had happened just last evening. It seemed impossible, and he wasn't about to share it with the JLA just yet, but he had seen a man who should have been dead. He had seen a man whose death he had confirmed for himself. And as much as he wanted to deny it, there was a slim possibility that something beyond normal deductive reasoning would be needed to solve this mystery. That had been last night, when he had run himself completely ragged on no sleep or food for forty-eight hours. He collapsed shortly after the incident, and when he awoke much later, he hoped it was just a dream. He joined the Justice League on the satellite shortly afterward, but the incident still weighed on his mind. He had been fooled by others who had pretended to be ghosts of the dead, including Hugo Strange a few years earlier. If the apparition had not merely been the effects of Professor Milo's psychoactive gas at work combined with a tired mind, then it must have been someone who wanted the Batman to believe that the Wrath had returned from the dead. Whatever the answer was, he was certain that there was one possibility he could eliminate right away -- that the Wrath had returned from the dead. That only happened in ghost stories. *** It was an early summer afternoon in Metropolis' Weisinger Park, where families were gathered for picnics and playing along the shore of the lake. Suddenly, the idyllic scene was shattered by a loud crash, followed by an eruption of water from the lake. "HA-HA-HA-HA!" The laughter boomed in their ears as a blue-and-red-clad figure arose from the center of the lake. "All these families! All this love and affection! Phagh! You should know the loneliness and rejection I felt at the hands of my so-called family!" Crimson beams flashed from his eyes, striking randomly in the crowd of fleeing people. Where they struck, people fell in a smoldering heap. " Good heavens, is that Superman gone berserk?" cried one woman as her husband pulled her behind a stone wall. "It looks like him, but he looks like he's been on a three-day bender," replied her husband. "And if it really is Superman, we're all in trouble." There was the whistling sound of something moving through the air above them, followed by the meaty sound of flesh on flesh. "I don't know who you are, but this is my city, my people you're harming!" Heads turned in time to see the attacker flying back away from an angry Superman. "I saw the flash of your impact from orbit." He glanced around the park, noting where bodies had fallen and looking for signs of life as one hand came up to touch his chest. Those watching could see him speaking a few sentences that nobody could hear. Then he took off after his foe even as other figures started to descend from the sky. Spying the stranger out over the waters of the Atlantic, Superman arced up, then drove down at the figure who was just bringing his own flight under control. Intending to drive him down into the depths of the ocean, Superman was surprised when he flew right through the creature who wore his own colors. " Ha! He said he would unleash my full potential, and he did! Now I possess the powers of my energy form as well as the powers I developed as a duplicate of you, Superman!" Already hundreds of feet underwater, Superman was still able to hear what the creature said. Energy form? Duplicate of me? Could this be the Super-Menace that attacked me several years ago? thought Superman as he came up out of the water a quarter mile east of where he'd entered. I thought he was destroyed when we last met. There was no trace left when he dissipated.A searing bolt of red-tinged energy struck the Man of Steel in the chest, driving him back. "Having been stuck in your form for so many years, I know how the radiation of a red sun can harm you. And now, I can create that same radiation!" Super-Menace unleashed several more bolts of red solar energy at Superman, toppling him from the sky. Heat-vision lanced out, and the sea began to boil where the Metropolis marvel had fallen. "It's just a matter of time before I find you down there, Superman, and then you die!"
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:34:56 GMT
Chapter 4: Tower of Wrath
by Starsky Hutch 76, with Dave Barnowski
"I can't believe you pulled this off," the Blue Bowman said as he stood next to the Wrath, who was at the control panel of the vast computer array located in the penthouse of what he called the Tower of Wrath. His logic had been that if Batman had his legendary Batcave, then he, being the opposite of everything he stood for, should have a tower.
"Of course it worked," the Wrath growled. "I'm damned good. I just never got to prove it."
"I'm starting to see that," the Blue Bowman said. "Hacking into the JLA Satellite. I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."
"Hey, boss-man," a teenaged boy wearing a domino mask with a purple tunic, black trunks, cape, and boots. "I think I've 'bout got the Wrathmobile up and running again. It took loads o' work, since it's been sittin' so long."
"Good job, Rage," the Wrath said.
"You've got a sidekick?" the Blue Bowman said.
"I never got to finish his training. He's been in boarding school all this time. That's another area where I plan to make up for lost time."
"Would you and your friends like some coffee or tea, Monsieur?" a French maid in a revealing uniform said, walking up to them carrying a silver tray.
"Merci beaucoup, Nanette," the Wrath said. "Some coffee would be wonderful. We're going to have a long night."
"Oui, Monsieur."
The Blue Bowman was speechless as she leaned down to set the tray on the cart beside them and pour their coffee, displaying her ample assets to the best vantage point for seeing them. "Th... thank you," he stammered.
His breath caught in his throat as the maid with supermodel looks batted her long eyelashes at him, smiled, and gave a gracious nod before backing out of the room.
"Good Lord," he said hoarsely. "How do you afford all this, anyway?"
"Investments," the Wrath said. By investments, he meant a vast network of criminal empires he had established under different guises as he traveled about the world while he trained to become the Wrath. None of the people working for them knew who their true employer was or that he had died. They only knew that he was quite ruthless and deadly, so they dared not try to cheat him or even anger him. The system he had set up was so efficient that it continued to function and amass vast wealth in his absence. So now he had more than enough operating capital on his return.
"This is boring!" Magpie suddenly said, causing the two men to turn in her direction. "When to I get to try out Neron's gift?"
"Soon enough, the Wrath said. "Patience."
"Yeah, doll," the Blue Bowman said. He gave her a studying look and added, "You know, you'd look a lot better without that funky ‘do."
"What do you mean?!" Magpie exclaimed.
"I mean... the rest of you looks smoking hot, but then you've got that weird hair that almost makes you look like a dude -- at least from the neck up."
"What?!" Magpie opened her mouth as if she were no longer going to wait to use Neron's gift, until the Wrath shot her a warning look that said, not in my place you don't.
"Don't get me wrong," the Blue Bowman said. "Your face looks good, too, so if you did look like a dude, it'd be a pretty dude like David Bowie or that guy from Dead or Alive."
"You find David Bowie attractive?" the Wrath said.
"What? Huh?!" the Blue Bowman exclaimed.
"You just called him pretty," the Wrath said. Magpie started to giggle.
"What? No! I was trying to make a point!"
"Hey, whatever floats your boat," the Wrath said. "I'm not here to judge."
"Can we just drop it and get on with what we're here to do?" the Blue Bowman said, growing flushed.
"I've done my part," the Wrath said. "The rest is up to the Marshal." He looked back over his shoulder and saw that Magpie was smiling at him. Despite his usual grim demeanor, he found himself smiling back.
***
When Neron had dismissed his newly assembled Legion of Doom, he had smiled in anticipation of the completion of his plans. If all went well, he would gain one or two of the noble Justice League member's souls as well as all of their lives.
He had watched the Justice League satellite's power go out from the dark place where he dwelt. But he frowned when he saw Starman remain aboard the space station. This was not something he had counted on.
He waved his left hand, and the Thanagarian, Kasta the Thrill-Killer, appeared at his feet. The man was whimpering in a fetal position. "I have decided to give you a second chance, Kasta. You know your fate if you fail."
"Y-yes," said Kasta.
"Yes... master," said Neron.
"Yes, master," repeated Kasta contritely.
"Excellent. You are to hunt down the champion known as Starman."
***
The Marshal knew he would have to be quick. The reserve generators had already kicked in, and security was already up and running. It was only a matter of time before the JLA returned, despite any distractions they might have set up. He phased directly into the transporter tube to give the appearance of beaming in.
He brought his face to a panel, and with a flex of Martian muscles, his eye began to transform and become human in appearance. A beam shot out to scan his retina before a computerized voice said, "Member identified: Green Arrow. Entrance granted."
Soon, the Marshal was smiling as he peered at the information rushing past him on the computer screen. All his enemies' secrets laid out before him. With a few more key strokes, it would all be transferred to the Wrath's computer, and then they would deal the JLA a blow like nothing they'd ever felt before.
Suddenly, his heightened senses picked up the sounds of footsteps. Someone was coming. The satellite was supposed to be deserted.
***
Will Payton paced anxiously, waiting for someone, anyone from the old guard of the JLA to return. It was an unbelievably flattering show of trust that Superman and Green Lantern had left him to watch the satellite while they took the others to safety, but it was a burden he was ready to turn over as quickly as possible, considering he had been an official member for less than half an hour. When he turned the corner, he was startled to see someone at the main console. The satellite was supposed to be deserted.
"Mrs. Dibny! What are you doing here?"
"I was in the bathroom! Then there was such a commotion coming from the other side, I was afraid to come out!"
He knew that she was a regular fixture about the satellite, but he couldn't believe they would just forget her. "Well, it's a good thing you didn't come out. There was a brief power failure, and the environmental settings out here went out. There must have been enough air trapped in there with you that you were able to survive during that time."
"Is everything OK now?" she asked him.
"Everything's fine. I'll make sure you back to Earth safely," Starman assured her.
"Oh, I wouldn't say everything is fine," an oily voice said from behind him. "Not for you, anyway. And as for her safety, I plan to have quite a bit of fun with that tasty morsel after I've ripped your head from your shoulders."
Will Payton turned to see Kasta the Thrill-Killer standing in the doorway. "Who the hell are you?"
Kasta! the disguised Marshal seethed. What was that idiot doing alive, much less in the JLA Satellite? Was Neron second-guessing him? If so, he might have to re-think their deal, no matter how powerful he was or what mythical creature he purported to be. He wasn't some superstitious m'ruun whose head could be filled with fairy tales, and he didn't have to put up with this.
***
In the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Metropolis, Superman could feel the water seething around him. A few more blasts from Super-Menace's red solar energy, and he surely would have been boiled alive.
If he went back to the surface, Super-Menace would be waiting to finish him off. That left only one other option -- down.
Spinning like a drill, Superman burrowed through the surface of the ocean floor and continued to drill deeper until he reached the Earth's core. His plan had been to drill all the way through the Earth and then fly back around to catch Super-Menace by surprise. What he saw made him have a sudden change of tactic.
Resting in the Earth's molten core were the Kryptonian weapons designed by his father that he had discovered early in his career as Superman. (*) He had thrown them into the core with the intention of destroying them, but he quickly realized that their origin meant that the extreme heat of the Earth's core would still have no effect on them. At least, though, they would be beyond the reach of any criminal who might want to exploit them.
[(*) Editor's note: See "The Super-Menace of Metropolis," Action Comics #216 (May, 1956).]
A quick scan of the weapons showed him what might help him out of his situation. He grabbed the weapon and borrowed his way back first to the ocean floor and then to the surface.
A savage grin crossed Super-Menace's face as Superman resurfaced. "Back for more, I see." His eyes glowed red as he let loose with another red solar energy blast.
Superman raised the device he was carrying, and the red solar energy was drawn into it. Super-Menace let out an anguished cry as he realized he could not stop firing his energy blast, and more and more of his energy was being drawn into the machine. Eventually, his own form was converted into energy and was drawn in.
A split second later, Superman shut the device off and removed the battery box that now contained the essence of Super-Menace. "I ain't afraid of no ghost," he quipped, looking down at the box. With a quick toss, he hurled the box into space.
***
In his Tower of Wrath, the Wrath watched the conflict between Superman and Super-Menace. With a sigh, he pressed a button to raise a channel to the Marshal.
***
"Who am I?" Kasta said, answering Starman. "The name's Kasta. They call me the Thrill-Killer, and you're about to see how I got my name."
"Oh, I don't think so," Starman said defiantly. "Stay behind me, Mrs. Dibny. I'll keep you safe."
"There you go again," Kasta mocked. "Making promises you can't keep."
"Marshal?" the Marshal's communicator said, sparking to life from what appeared to be Sue Dibny's waist. "Marshal, you need to finish up and get out of there. You have an errant teammate in need of a rescue."
Will Payton looked over his shoulder at Sue Dibny. "Marshal?" He was startled when her arm suddenly swelled into a muscular green arm bulging with muscled. It delivered a right cross that knocked him cold.
Kasta stared at him wide-eyed. "I hope you will not be offended if I reevaluate my earlier plans for you."
"Believe me, I will not," the Marshal said, turning to the console he was working at earlier to finish his task. "I would ask you what you're doing here, but we must leave as quickly as possible." He turned and stepped over the unconscious form of Will Payton as he made for the exit.
"What about him?" Kasta said as he pointed to Starman, sounding like a child being deprived of a toy.
"Leave him!" the Marshal said, pulling him along. "He'll die when the satellite self-destructs, anyway!"
***
Benton Beakman always hurt the ones he loved. It wasn't intentional, but if he loved something, he had to possess it completely. He had to own it in its entirety, and the entire world had to know that every aspect of it belonged to him.
That was why, when he became obsessed with Hawkman and Hawkwoman (then called Hawkgirl), he had to discover all their secrets. Simply duplicating their abilities wasn't enough, though. He had to beat them and then expose them so the world would know they belonged to him.
It didn't work out as planned. Instead of the Hawks being exposed, something else he prized highly was lost -- his reputation. He became known in Midway City as the perpetrator of the biggest alien invasion scam since Orson Wells' Martian invasion hoax. Even when the Halls were revealed as aliens for real years later, his reputation still never fully recovered.
Beakman approached his relationships with women the same way. They might start off peacefully, but they usually ended with threats, fights, restraining orders, and visits from the police. He had spent many a night in a cell for failing to keep the proper court-ordered distance from the latest object of his affections.
It had looked as if things would go the same way with the current woman he had fallen for at his job, Cherilyn Stark. Despite the many accolades he had accumulated before his disgrace, he had only been able to get a position as a lowly lab assistant at his current workplace thanks to his record.
Cherilyn was one of the research scientists on staff, and she took his breath away the moment he set eyes on her. He tried to make approaches to her, but naturally, she turned her nose up at him. She acted as if he were beneath her, even though his work used to be printed in many of the journals she aspired to, and many of her colleagues even asked his opinions on their work.
Her rejection just seemed to egg him on more, though. Eventually, he was called in to his supervisor's office, reminded of the company's policy on sexual harassment, and warned that he would be fired if he continued. He was all set to abduct her and leave the country when Neron summoned him. He had already swiped the chloroform from the lab.
When Beakman turned the key to his apartment door and stepped inside, he was startled to see Cherilyn at his kitchenette, standing before the stove and making dinner. She was wearing a full-length apron and nothing else.
"Hello, darling! You're home at last! How was your meeting?"
"Um... informative," he gulped.
"So, you and I will be on a new team?" she asked. "That will be so exciting. Let me go try on the costume you made me."
"The costume... I made you?" he mumbled. He had drawn several sketches of a costume he had envisioned for her, but he had never actually created one. Apparently, Neron had made this a reality, as well. His eyes grew large as she turned her back to him to head for the bedroom, and parts of her were revealed to him that he had only dreamed of seeing.
A few minutes later, Cherilyn Stark stepped back into the living room whose walls were plastered with photos of her that he had shot without her knowledge. "What do you think?" she asked, striking a model's pose in the costume.
"You look amazing," he said. The body of the suit was a two-piece version of the brown, feather-printed bodysuit he wore, baring her legs, waist, and arms. It was accompanied by brown thigh-high boots, long gloves, and brown wings. On her head she wore a half-falcon mask similar to the one he wore, but with her long, auburn-colored hair spilling down past her shoulders.
"I love it, too," she said, stepping forward to embrace him. "I can't wait to go into action with you."
"You can say that again," he said hungrily, leaning down to kiss her.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he looked into Cherilyn's large brown eyes and realized that there was very little left of the brilliant, independent, beautiful woman with whom he had become so infatuated. Ah, well. If he couldn't have that woman, at least no one else could, either. And that was almost as important to him.
***
As he soared through the depths of space, the Marshal scanned with his heightened Martian vision looking for the square-shaped battery pack that the Wrath had sent him to retrieve. It irritated him to be turned into a glorified errand boy, but he realized he was the only one on their team capable of the mission.
Finally, he saw the object he was looking for and soared in its direction. As he grabbed the storage battery, he smiled in amusement. Here lay the great and mighty Super-Menace imprisoned in a small container like one of the genies of Earthling folklore. This was supposed to be their team's mightiest member? Anyone with any sense should realize that title belonged to the Marshal. He would never have suffered such an indignity.
He turned and soared back in the direction of Earth so they could begin the task of trying to free him. He would love to have used this opportunity to put the arrogant brute in his place, but any sound military strategist knew that you did not engage in activities that could cause discord amongst your troops. It would have been enjoyable, though.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:35:59 GMT
Chapter 5: Tormented in Hell
by Starsky Hutch 76 and Doc Quantum
While they were no longer targets and had mostly been left alone, the heroes stranded in Hell were not having much luck finding a way out of their predicament. The legion of the damned simply moaned and moved forward through the gates. Even if they could have answered, if they knew a way out, wouldn't they have already taken it?
The demons, believing Firestorm to be an arch-demon or devil, found the entire line of questioning very distressing, since they thought it was some sort of test. The answers alternated between, "None of this scum can escape, I assure you, my lord," or, "Why, possess a human, of course." Neither were very helpful.
They were just about at their wit's end when they heard a voice behind them say, "Hey, y'all. I believe I can help you cats out."
They were startled when they turned to see a demon dressed as a hippie. He was wearing bell-bottom jeans with patches bearing rainbows, doves, and peace signs, a leather vest with fringes, sandals, and peace beads, and a head band with a peace sign in the center. Above the head band, two small horns poked out.
"You don't dress much like your colleagues," Red Tornado commented.
"You got that right, my metal brother-man," the hippie demon said. "That's 'cause I wasn't born a demon. I was elected to the post, ya might say. Back on Earth, my friends and I wanted to change the world. And let's just say a lot of experimenting with new ideas and new... things. Trouble was, I forgot why it was I was tryin' to expand my mind and got too wrapped up in how the drugs made me feel. That's how I wound up down here. Now it's my job to collect others like me."
"You said you could help us?" Steel asked.
"Sure, but it'll cost. One of you cats got a doob on you?"
"What? No!" Vixen said, aghast.
"It'd be a whole lot cooler if you did."
"Well, we don't," Firestorm said. "What else can we do?"
"Thing is, yer buddy there is holdin'," the hippie demon said, pointing to Steel.
"What?!" all three of the other heroes exclaimed at once.
Steel blushed. "There were these kids in Paco's old neighborhood... I still go there to check in on things now that Vibe's no longer there to watch over the place. I knew them from when we used to be based out there. They're basically good kids who were about to make a stupid mistake. I didn't want to turn them in and give them a record, because I felt they deserved a second chance. So I confiscated the weed and gave them a good talking-to."
"I believe the law is pretty clear on this sort of matter," Red Tornado said.
"Things aren't always so black and white for us humans," Steel grumbled.
"Hey, Red's one of the most human guys I know," Firestorm said. "Sure you weren't confiscating it for yourself?" he said with a smirk.
"Heck, no!" Steel said, reddening. "I just didn't have a chance to get rid of it before we were called into that ambush."
"Yer buddy's telling the truth. I'm literally the lord of doper excuses, so I can tell. If it's any consolation, your speech to them seems to have worked." He held up the back of his hand to his forehead with dramatic flourish and said in a hammy, dramatic voice, "I shan't be coming for them."
"That's good to know," Steel said.
"So let's have it," the demon said, holding out a red, clawed hand. The heroes gave each other an uncertain look.
"Hey, dudes, you either pay the ferryman with gold, or you pay me with the green. And from the looks of things, right now you got more green than gold."
Steel sighed and handed over the zip-lock bag with two joints in it. The demon smiled eagerly as he took the bag from him. "Don't let it bum you out, brother. It's not like you're corrupting me. In case you haven't figured it out, I'm already damned." He tapped one of his horns for emphasis.
The hippie demon led them to a row boat sitting by a river. "We're going by boat?" Steel asked.
"Nothing gets by you, huh?" the demon chuckled. "Yeah, man. We cross here, and that'll get you to Limbo."
"Limbo?!" Vixen exclaimed. "You said you were taking us home."
"Limbo will get you there," the demon said. "Someone there can show you the rest of the way home from there. Beats being in Hell, if you dig what I'm sayin'."
"This may be your only chance, Ronnie," Martin Stein said to Firestorm, unseen by the rest of the group.
Firestorm stepped forward into the boat. Following his lead, the other heroes entered the boat with some apprehension.
As the demon rowed, a fog suddenly seemed to roll in. They could see neither their point of departure nor the shore they hoped to reach.
"How can you tell where we are going?" Red Tornado asked. "Even my optical sensors cannot pierce this fog."
"Instinct, my brother. Instinct. I've traveled across here more times than I can count."
Suddenly, another rowboat appeared in the distance, piloted by a black-robed figure who had yet to notice them. "Oh, @#$%!" the hippie demon said. "It's Charon! If he sees me cutting in on his action, I'm toast!"
The hippie demon suddenly swung his oar in a circle, knocking all four heroes out of the boat. They struggled to stay afloat, but the water itself seemed to drag them under.
"Darn shame I had to do that," the hippie demon said, waving to the robed figure in the other boat as they crossed paths.
"Ah, well, at least I still got the doobies." He pulled out the plastic bag and ran one of the joints under his nose, inhaling deeply. A look of consternation crossed his face. "Aw, ma-a-an! Oregano!"
***
When the four JLAers submerged under the river, they each underwent a change. For this was no ordinary river. This was one of the rivers of Hades called the river Lethe. One of the properties of this supernatural river was to cause those who drank from it to forget who they were.
So as the woman named Mari Jiwe McCabe sank under the river Lethe, utterly forgetting where she was, who she was, and what she was doing there in the first place, all she could do was react to the situation as best as one could without any memory. She instinctually channeled the animal abilities of the dolphin to swim to the surface and save herself.
As she broke through the surface of the water, she saw a shadowy figure on the edge of the river. He was dressed in a dark costume, wore a sword, and had his arm outstretched to pull her out. With some hesitation, she accepted his arm, and soon enough she was sitting on the shore.
"Thank you," Vixen said uncertainly. "Um... Do I know you?"
"You might say that," said Jim Rook, smiling. He was dressed in his Nightmaster outfit. "I'll explain later. For now, I'm going to have to help you rescue the rest of your friends."
"The rest?" said Vixen. She looked around, and for the first time saw two men lying unconscious on the shore. One was a young, brown-haired man of college age, dressed in casual clothes, and the other was older with gray hair, who wore a white lab coat and glasses. "Are these my friends?"
"I think they must be," said Jim. "But neither of them look like your three friends, so I'm not really sure who they are. But what I do know is that two of those friends are still at the bottom of the river. Y'see, your android friend and your cyborg friend are both largely made of heavy metal, which is weighing them down. I don't think the Red Tornado needs to breathe, but I'm pretty sure Steel will drown if you don't save him immediately."
Vixen felt confused; she still didn't know who she was or where she was, but she knew she had to do something. But what? Wouldn't she drown down there as well?
"I know you must be confused right now," said Jim. "But you're going to have to trust me. God knows, I don't deserve that trust after what I put you and the others through, but I'm trying to make up for what I've done, Mari."
"Mari?" asked Vixen. "Is that my name?"
"Yes. And you're also a superhero known as Vixen. You have the power to channel any animal ability you need. Unfortunately, I can't tell you how you do it. All I know is that you can do this. Just one word of advice: don't drink the water."
"All right," said Vixen. "So what should I do?"
Jim Rook frowned in thought for a moment, then said, "Um... I guess you should wish for the power to swim like a fish or something, and then wish for great strength, like an ape. You should be able to combine those abilities to pull Steel and then Red Tornado from the river. Does this make sense?"
"No, but I guess I have no choice," said Vixen. Without another word, she dived into the river Lethe and proceeded to use her powers to pull out the unconscious bodies of Steel and the Red Tornado. On the shore, she made sure that Steel was breathing. The Red Tornado merely seemed inactive, but it was difficult to tell the condition of an android, after all. After she made sure that these figures who were supposed to be her friends were safe, she spoke again to the man who had helped her out of the river.
"Who are you, and what is this place?" asked Vixen. "For that matter, who am I?"
Nightmaster sighed, realizing she must have accidentally ingested a bit more water. "My name's Jim Rook, and I'm a friend of yours. Your name is Mari Jiwe McCabe, and you're a supermodel. You're also a superhero called Vixen and a member of a team called the Justice League of America. As for what this place is? Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you're in Hell."
"In Hell?!" said Vixen, vaguely aware that this was not a pleasant place to be, for although her knowledge of herself had been temporarily taken away by the river's properties, she still retained her general knowledge.
"And I'm even sorrier to tell you that I'm responsible for you being here," said Nightmaster. "Thanks to my greed, I helped send you to the dimension of Hell, even though I never intended for that to happen."
Vixen looked at Nightmaster with a mixture of anger and pity.
"But mark my words, Mari," continued Jim, "I will help you and your friends escape this place."
Jim Rook and the heroes turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. They instinctively went into defensive postures, preparing themselves for whatever might happen as a group of demons moved in their direction. Rook was startled when the older man moved in front of the younger man protectively. When they bumped into each other, they fused into Firestorm.
The aging rock star didn't have long to ponder that enigma. The demons were moving closer. Their behavior wasn't what he had expected, however.
"Aw, man! It's Jim Rook! Freakin' awesome!"
"I wish he'd brought his guitar instead of that sword."
"Howl of the Hellhound kicked righteous @$$!"
"Do you know Steely Dan?"
"Hey, hey, don't crowd the celebrity, y'all. Not cool," a voice called out from behind the demon groupies. A long-haired, crimson-skinned demon dressed in 1960s-era hippie clothes pushed his way through. "Give the dude some space."
Vixen, Steel, and Firestorm looked at the hippie demon uneasily. Something told them they shouldn't trust this strange demon, but they weren't sure why.
"Why should you get to talk to him and not us? You're the one who–"
"Shush!" the hippie demon commanded. "‘Sides, him and I got business to discuss." He walked up to the Nightmaster, his palms up, and said, "Hey, Jim -- can I call you Jim? Big fan here. Like Ned was saying, Howl of the Hellhound surely did kick righteous @$$."
"Can I help you with something, mister...?"
"Dave. You can call me Dave, brother-man."
"Dave? I was expecting something a little more ominous."
"A fancy name like some of these older cats got would be cool, but what can I say? I died in 1974." Dave shrugged. "And it's not what you can do for me. It's what I can do for you and your amigos there."
"What do you mean?" Nightmaster said.
"I was helping your friends there cross the river when we were interrupted."
"And you knocked them in the river," Nightmaster finished.
"Hey, I felt bad about that. I really did. But I couldn't be caught with them. And I was going to go back for them until you fished them out. Once I get payment, I have to finish."
"How do I know you won't just knock us all into the drink once we're halfway across if you see the ferryman again?" Nightmaster said sternly.
"I brought a tarp you cats can hide under if I spot Charon," Dave said. "Oh, one other thing -- I was paid by your buddies, but not you. If you wanna come along, yer gonna have to give me what you've got stashed in yer boot there, my rock star brother."
Nightmaster sighed, pulled a joint out of his boot, and handed it to the hippie demon. "Here."
"Ah, yes," Dave said, running the joint under his nose. "A friend with weed is a friend indeed! Just one other thing..."
"What is it?
"If you could do a favor for my compadres here." The crowd of demons held up copies of Howl of the Hellhound, smiling eagerly. "Autographs?"
***
The second trip across the river started off much more uneventfully. Nightmaster and Dave the hippie demon chatted about music most of the way. The other four heroes clutched the tarp, ready to dive under it should Charon appear again.
A serious look suddenly crossed Vixen's face, and she stood up. Her teammates, whose memories had begun to return, recognized that expression. Her feral senses had kicked in.
"What is it?" Steel asked. Without saying a word, she took on the characteristics of a dolphin, combined with the thick skin of a sperm whale to keep from being affected by the amnesiac effects of the water, and dived into the river.
"Mari, what the hell?!" Nightmaster exclaimed.
Vixen waved her arms, sinking farther and farther beneath the surface, her hunter's instincts drawing her to a specific spot. The murky water before her seemed to clear, and she saw a small child thrashing to and fro, as if struggling for oxygen. His blond, curly hair whipped about wildly, and his blue eyes were wild with panic.
How did he get down here? Vixen thought. He couldn't be more than four or five years old at most!
She quickly forgot her own fear and swam for him. As she grabbed hold of him, he clutched her in fear. She swam upward, seeing the bottom of the boat. She swam toward it with the boy in tow.
When she finally reached the boat, Steel, Firestorm, and Red Tornado pulled her in. Steel and Firestorm looked completely stunned by her actions. Red Tornado seemed completely unfazed and was as stoic as ever.
Vixen looked down at the child in her arms and smiled as the boy fell into a silent sleep. Now that he had been taken from the waters, he looked so peaceful.
"Who -- who is that?" Steel said, out of breath.
"I don't know," Vixen said. "He was in the river. He was drowning."
"How could anyone drown here? For that matter, what's a kid doing here, anyway?" Firestorm said.
"I don't know," Vixen said. "But I couldn't just leave him."
"No... no, of course not," Steel said, nodding in agreement. Red Tornado just gave the child a strange look but said nothing.
"Good thing we were so close to Limbo," Dave said. "The waters won't change you. I think you just pulled that young'un out of whatever personal torment he was experiencing."
"How could someone so small have a personal torment?" Vixen said, horrified.
"It's all in how we go out, babe," Dave said nonchalantly. "Well, here we are. All ashore who's going ashore."
Nightmaster and the four heroes stepped off the boat. "Good luck, cats," said Dave the demon. "It's been a real trip!" With a wave, he turned his boat in the opposite direction back towards hell.
The heroes were confronted with a vast dusty plain that seemed to stretch on forever. "What now?" Firestorm said.
"Now we walk," Nightmaster answered.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:38:23 GMT
Chapter 6: First Meeting
by Doc Quantum and Starsky Hutch 76
"Oh, my GOD! It's DIIIPPP!"
"That's right, my dear! Enough to dip Toon Town off the face of the earth! Vehicle of my own design; 5,000 gallons of heated dip, pumped at enormous velocity through a pressurized water cannon. Toon Town will be erased in a matter of min–"
Wally West frowned as the screen suddenly paused mid-frame. What was going on? He turned to his girlfriend Frances Kane, who wore a concerned expression on her face, one which was almost comical. "Minutes. I think he was going to say minutes," said Wally, hoping for a reaction. He got none. Was she ignoring him? And how was she staying so still?
He raised his right hand and waved it before her eyes, but there was still no reaction. In fact, there was no sound at all in the theater, except for a familiar sub-bass humming.
That was when he noticed a jabbing pain at the back of his skull. "Ow! What the hell?" He reached around and pulled a nail from the back of his head, which had slightly punctured his scalp. He turned and looked, and he saw hundreds, perhaps thousands of similar nails frozen in mid-air throughout the theater above the heads of the moviegoers, glinting slightly in the light from the screen.
In a flash, he was out of his seat. Quickly taking a moment to change out of his civilian clothing, which he put into Frances' purse, he clicked the ring he wore. This was a Flash ring constructed for him by his uncle -- Barry Allen, the original Flash -- back when Wally graduated from high school. He didn't know of its existence until after the Crisis, however, and after Barry died to save the universe -- all universes.
The Flash ring ejected a chemically compressed red outfit similar to Barry's but with some unique properties and an updated design, which Wally quickly donned. This was the uniform of the Flash, which could withstand the friction associated with the high speeds that the fastest man alive was used to traveling at. Once in the red Flash costume, Wally quickly ran through the aisles, plucking the frozen nails from midair and collecting them all in his hands. Some had punctured seats and clothing, and in a few cases grazed ears and scalps, but thankfully none of them had impaled anyone yet. But there were a few farther back that were on their way to do so.
It was obvious that his super-speed had kicked in when that first nail struck the back of his head at great speed. That was why the world had, from his point of view, slowed down to such an extent that everything was frozen. What was not so obvious was how it had been done, or why, or by whom.
As he plucked the hundreds of nails from mid-air, the Flash took note of the arc of all the nails that were soaring at super-speed through the theater. While they weren't traveling at his own speed by any means, they were traveling at an extreme high speed that would have caused a great deal of damage had he not found them all.
The arc of the nails in the air suggested that they had been fired back and forth in a sweeping motion across the theater, mostly above the heads of all the theater-goers except for a few, such as the one that had triggered Wally West's super-speed reflexes. But given the sheer number of nails soaring through the air at the same time, it was impossible for even the most advanced of nail-guns to have accomplished this under ordinary circumstances. There was only one explanation.
A super-speedster had done this.
The Flash gathered the last of the nails from the air and quickly did a last-minute check to make sure there were no more nails that he had missed. In the dark theater this was not an easy task, and he found five more nails in the shadow below the light line, as well as two that had punctured seats and were already halfway through them. He collected all of these and dumped the nails in a trash bin on his way out of the theatre.
Wally West and Frances Kane had gone to see a daytime matinee this afternoon -- Who Framed Roger Rabbit? -- and there were a lot of children in the audience. Whoever had done this had put their lives at risk but had also strangely been careful not to kill anyone -- yet.
As the Flash ran outside the building, avoiding the human statues that blocked his way, he exited into the bright sunlight of late June and looked around. Whoever had been responsible for firing all those nails in a crowded theater full of children would probably still be in the area, super-speed or not.
But downtown Central City was a museum of human statues, unmoving vehicles, and cotton-candy-solid exhaust. Everywhere the Flash looked, he saw no motion whatsoever, nothing to reveal the super-speedster that must have been responsible for the near-tragedy.
As he was wondering whether Professor Zoom, the Reverse-Flash, could have paid Central City of this era another visit, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye.
There was a man, his back to the Flash, sitting in a cross-legged Indian style in the middle of a busy city street. He had not seen him at first, because several vehicles blocked his view. The man was sitting directly in the center of Central City's busiest street during the beginning of the afternoon rush hour. That was strange, to say the least.
Although his suspicions had already been raised, the Flash rushed forward to save the possible victim from being a casualty of a traffic accident.
That was when the man casually got to his feet and stood up, a moving man amongst the statues.
The Flash stopped a few feet away from the man and took a good, long look at him. He had long, raven-black hair, was bare-chested and well-muscled, and he wore black trousers, golden boots, and golden gauntlets running all down his arms. He also wore a golden half-mask that covered his face but left his hair uncovered. Both the mask and the boots sported red wings presumably styled after the Flash's own wings on his boots and mask. The man stared at him and crossed his arms defiantly.
"So you are the Flash," the man said; he was obviously vibrating at the same rate of speed that Wally was, so he sounded normal to the Flash's ears.
"I am," said Wally. "And you are...?"
"I did not expect such a young man," the masked speedster continued. "We must be the same age. Early to mid-twenties, right?" Wally noticed that the man had a slight Southwest accent, but he also sounded somewhat like Roy Harper whenever Roy came back from visiting his friends on the Indian reservation where he had been raised by Brave Bow. Judging from this man's light reddish-brown skin tone and slight accent, he seemed to be a Native American.
"But in all the years we've both had this... gift of super-speed, we've never met," the man continued. "That's a shame. I'm glad to have rectified that."
"Listen," said the Flash, "if you think that firing a nail-gun in the middle of a crowded theater full of children is a good way to meet me, then you've got another think coming, mister."
The masked speedster laughed. "Oh, that? No worries. I really didn't intend to harm anyone, as you may have guessed. That was just my way of making introductions. I wasn't even sure you were in there, to be honest. But I heard a tip that you would show up there."
"Just who are you?" demanded the Flash.
"My real name is no longer important," said the masked speedster. "I've shed all such worldly constructs, anyway. My gift was given to me by the gods themselves, and recently I have been given a chance to attain godhood myself, in exchange for destroying you. I just wanted to meet you face to face to explain that there are no hard feelings involved on my part."
"Destroy me?" said the Flash. "You'll have to do a lot better than that."
"Oh, that wasn't a real attempt. Didn't I explain that? I just wanted to get your attention. Clear the air, you know? One young super-speedster to another. Of course, you are merely a superhero, while I am on the verge of godhood itself."
"I've heard enough," said the Flash, and he raced forward. But the man vanished.
A few feet away, he stopped and said, "Not just yet, Flash. This was just a friendly gesture. A courtesy. We'll have plenty of time to tussle later on." The man smiled grimly. "But I haven't introduced myself. In abandoning my old identity, I decided to take on a new name befitting of my impending godhood."
"Listen, I don't have time for your life story," said the Flash, making another futile attempt to catch him.
Down the block, the man reappeared at super-speed and said, "Although I do not myself subscribe to the Hindu faith, I have named myself after one of their gods -- the god of speed, of motion."
The Flash tried a third time to catch the man, who sped away and reappeared farther down the block after a moment.
"You may call me Savitar." And at that, the man vanished.
The Flash vanished himself, racing in a zigzag pattern throughout the crowded Central City streets in an attempt to find the rival super-speedster. But Savitar was gone.
"Oh, this isn't good," muttered the Flash.
***
The assorted members of the Legion of Doom stood in the lab area of the satellite that once belonged to the Injustice Gang. Despite the level of scientific expertise on the team, hacking their way in had been no easy task. The defenses had proven extraordinary. They needed the level of technology available on the satellite, though, if they were going to free Super-Menace from a Kryptonian device.
"Man, this place is something," the Blue Bowman said with a whistle.
"It is," the Wrath agreed. "I'm glad we're moving our base of operations here instead of my place. I didn't like the way you were looking at my maid."
"Huh?"
"Of course, after your Bowie remark, I probably should have been more worried about my sidekick, Rage." A wave of snickers passed through the rest of the group.
"Hey, I like chicks, man!" the Blue Bowman exclaimed.
"Oh, I believe you," the Wrath said, sounding none too convincing.
"Are you sure this will work?" the Falcon said, sitting on a nearby work bench with Lady Falcon sitting in his lap, her arms draped around his neck. "It's not like we can afford to lose our heavy-hitter this early in the game." The Marshal visibly stiffened at his comment.
"There are no guarantees," the Wrath said. "That thing was designed by Jor-El, Krypton's best scientist. The closest thing we've got to Jor-El is trapped in that cube. We've got Martian and Thanagarian science, though. And hopefully that'll do."
Kasta the Thrill-Killer was far from his usual crazed, cocky self as he stood strapped in the bizarre framework. "Are we quite certain this will not work without my direct involvement? There is no way to do it without me?"
"It will not work without you," Lord Malvolio said. "It's powered by your energy-siphoning ability. You yourself helped come up with the idea!"
"I know," Kasta shuddered. "But that was before we realized that the pain would be–"
"Would be considerable," the Marshal finished, rolling his eyes. He quickly reached for a switch and flipped it before Kasta had a chance to back out.
Kasta screamed as the entire framework was enveloped in a glow. It emanated the strongest around Kasta and the cradle behind him holding the storage cube containing Super-Menace.
The framework both took over and enhanced Kasta's own abilities and pulled at the storage battery. Super-Menace's energy was drawn from the cube and channeled through Kasta. It was then drawn from Kasta into a funnel-shaped device in front of the psychotic Thanagarian. The funnel then fired the energy at a platform with an explosive blast.
When everyone's vision cleared, they could see the kneeling form of Super-Menace. He slowly rose, smoke drifting around him. His eyes were filled with a cold fury. "The Kryptonian will pay," he said through gritted teeth.
"Will he be OK?" Magpie said, looking at the slumped form of Kasta.
"Oh, sure," the Wrath said. "He might be a little hung over tomorrow, though."
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:40:53 GMT
Chapter 7: In Limbo
by Starsky Hutch 76
The stranded heroes walked for what seemed like ages across the barren plains of Limbo. "I just realized something," Steel said, breaking the silence. "We haven't eaten for ages. I should be hungry, but I'm not."
"Same here," Vixen said. "After all the walking we've done, the kid should be crying for food, too."
"Food is an earthly need," Nightmaster said. "We're... somewhere else."
"There's a cheery thought," Steel said, shuddering. A remorseful look came over his face as the last of the effects of his earlier dip in the river wore off. Turning to Red Tornado, he said, "Hey, Red, that comment I made earlier when we first met that hippie demon -- I didn't mean it. I just got flustered. Paco was my best friend, and looking after the people in his old neighborhood means a lot to me. I know you're not just a machine. It was a stupid remark, and I'm sorry."
"I understand," Red Tornado said with a smile as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're all only human, after all."
They walked for awhile farther when Nightmaster suddenly tripped. The dust storm had obscured visibility, and the object that had tripped him was buried in dust.
When the dust was knocked away, the group was shocked to see that the object in question was a naked man, laying on his side, in the fetal position.
"Take whatever you want. Just don't hurt me," the man said in a faraway voice.
"Hey, pal, no one's gonna hurt you," Steel said in a soothing voice. "Don't worry."
Firestorm looked down at the man's glazed expression and said, "I don't think he can hear you."
As they walked, they encountered several more, very similar figures, all in the fetal position, all covered in various levels of dust depending on how long they had been there. They all muttered to themselves in the same faraway voice.
"Let's not do anything crazy. Just... just put the gun down."
"I tried, but I just can't live without her..."
"We're gonna crash!"
"I swear! I didn't know he was married. Don't do it..."
It was an endless tide of every race, age, and gender, all with the same glazed expression. They were all trapped in the final moments leading to their deaths.
As the winds began to part, one figure stood out among the dusty catatonic dead: a tall, robed figure carrying a staff. He pulled back the hood of his dark gray robes to reveal a face with sad, soulful eyes and a high, distinguished forehead. "Your friend is right," he said in a deep, educated voice. "They cannot hear you. These unfortunate souls were not at rest when they died, so they are here until they can come to terms with what happened to them."
"Some of them appear to have been here for quite some time," Red Tornado observed.
"That is true," the robed figure sighed. "I try to give them what comfort I can, meager though it is."
"Who are you?" Vixen asked.
"I am called Barabbas," he replied. Looking at the boy in her arms, he said, "It is the young ones I feel for the most -- the innocents. They break my heart. I am glad you found the boy. I think you should keep him with you for the remainder of your journey. He was taken from your plane of existence far too soon. The universe seemed a darker place when he died."
Vixen, Firestorm, Steel, and Nightmaster stared at each other, puzzling over his cryptic statement. Red Tornado looked at the child and said nothing.
"There is another I would like for you to take as well. Follow me, and I will take you to her."
The heroes and Barabbas weaved through several more dusty figures who lay on their sides muttering to themselves. He stopped at one who had a particularly stricken look on his face.
"I didn't mean to hit him," the man said in the same faraway voice as the others. "The little boy darted in front of my car, chasing his ball. He... he came out of nowhere. I tried to swerve to miss him, but it was too late. I didn't mean to..."
Barabbas handed Nightmaster his staff, knelt down beside the man, and said quietly into his ear, "It was a terrible, senseless accident. It was not your fault."
"It was a terrible, senseless accident. It was not my fault," the man repeated. The stricken look suddenly melted away. "It was... not... my fault."
A light suddenly illuminated him from within, shining outward from his mouth and eyes. With a flash, he disappeared.
"Occasionally, I am able to help them," Barabbas said, rising and taking his staff from Nightmaster.
"What happened?" Steel asked.
"He is at peace. He has moved on. Let us do the same."
The group walked farther until they came to a smaller figure. Barabbas parted the dust to reveal a raven-haired girl a little younger than the boy Vixen held, a toddler probably no older than two or three years of age.
"This one spent most of her life in a coma," Barabbas said. "While her body grew to adulthood, her spirit stayed as you see it, because that is how she saw herself when she entered her catatonic state. As happens in many similar cases, the soul eventually departed, even though the body was sustained through artificial means. She never had a chance at life. I would like for her to have the second chance she deserves."
"These are tragic tales," Nightmaster said. "But what sets these children apart? There must be a thousand here just like them."
"Those answers will reveal themselves in time," Barabbas said, smiling.
"Can you help us find our way home?" Vixen asked.
"You have a long road ahead of you," Barabbas said. "Unfortunately, I cannot leave my charges to accompany you. Limbo has many aspects. This, of course, is the Biblical one. I can help you reach the next so you will at least be once more in the land of the living. And so will they. For though these two children remain but spirit in Limbo, they will don new, resurrected bodies identical to the ones they had while still alive, once they step into the physical world -- this much has been promised to them."
"Well, at least that's a step in the right direction," Firestorm said.
"Yes, it is," Barabbas said. "I have no doubt that once you take this next step, you will eventually find the doorway that leads you home." Stooping down, he lifted up the little girl and handed her to Red Tornado, who looked thoughtfully at her. "I leave her to your care."
Barabbas held up his arms, and there was a spark of lightning. A hole began to appear in the space before them, growing larger and larger until it was big enough for a man to step through.
Vixen went first, carrying the boy. She was followed by the Red Tornado, still carrying the girl. Firestorm then stepped through, followed by Nightmaster.
Steel was about to step through when he turned to look back at Barabbas, who had turned way and was starting to walk toward his charges. The back of his robes shuddered, and something fell out the bottom. Steel reached down to pick it up, and his eyes grew large when he saw that it was a large white feather.
Barabbas looked back over his shoulder with a smile. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "I am not an angel as you would suppose, but a mere man grateful to be spared damnation, though too wicked in my mortal life to gain entrance into Heaven. In Limbo I remain until my work is done." Motioning toward the vortex with his staff, he said, "You had better hurry. That portal won't stay open forever."
Steel took his advice and quickly stepped through. The portal then shut behind him.
***
"Just when you think things couldn't get any weirder," Firestorm said.
After stepping through the portal Barabbas had created for them, the heroes and two children found themselves standing before a bizarre tree whose branches were shaped like arms pointing in many different directions. This tree was at the apex of a winding yellow road suspended, seemingly, in the middle of nowhere. The road forked off in many directions that led to different portals. The yellow road seemed to go on for as far as the car could see.
"So I take it one of these doorways is supposed to take us home," Steel said.
"It would seem so," Red Tornado agreed. "But which one?"
"What happens if we pick the wrong door?" Vixen said, shifting the boy from one arm to the other. "Will we be stuck there?"
They all eyed each other uncertainly. No one seemed in any hurry to move toward one of these portals.
A large figure suddenly stepped forward from one of the doors. He was an enormous, green hulking brute clad in maroon trunks. Ridiculously large muscles seemed to pop from every inch of him. While his features looked human, his eyes were those of a mindless, savage beast filled with primal fury. With the angry roar of an animal trying to protect his territory, the creature raced toward them.
The roar of the beast awakened the small girl in Red Tornado's arms from her slumber. She turned toward the savage jade juggernaut and opened her mouth to let out a frightened scream. What issued forth was a blast of pure sonic force.
Steel, Vixen, Firestorm, and Nightmaster dropped to the ground holding their ears in pain. The green monster was hit with the full force of the blast and driven backward. He fell through one of the doors and out of view.
"That -- that was a canary cry!" Vixen exclaimed.
A moment of stunned disbelief passed as the heroes stared at the girl. The only sound was the sniffling of the frightened boy, who had remained silent since his rescue, though it was obvious he could understand much of what they were saying. Vixen stroked his blond hair and cooed in his ear to comfort him, and he buried his head in her shoulder.
Red Tornado finally broke the silence. "If we could still get to Earth-Two, I would say that Johnny Thunder's Thunderbolt had some explaining to do. As it is, we may never know the full story."
"If this is Black Canary's daughter," Firestorm said, wide eyed, "then the boy..."
"Is most likely Arthur Curry Junior," Red Tornado finished.
"It makes sense, then, why Barabbas chose you to take them back," Nightmaster said.
"One thing's for certain," Steel said. "We don't want to hang around here anymore. That thing might come back. Or he might have family and friends on the way with a score to settle." The group headed for the nearest portal and walked through with no idea what lay on the other side.
***
Little Dinah Laurel Lance played with the coconuts as she sat on the beach. Laurel, as they had begun calling her, was wearing an adult-sized T-shirt that practically swallowed her. She pointed to the three marks on one of the coconut and laughed. "Hah-hah! It got a face!"
"Yes, I believe it does," Martin Stein said, smiling. "Bright child."
"Hard to believe she should be older than me by around fifteen years," a shirtless Ronald Raymond said, eating a banana with one hand while he carried the remainder of the bunch with the other.
"Nana!" Laurel said, holding out her arms.
"Sure, kid," Ronnie said, setting the bunch down so he could pull one off and hand it to her. "I bet it's been years since the last time you ate."
"More like decades," Martin said, taking the banana from the girl to peel it for her before handing it back. "It really is a shock."
"You think you're shocked," Ronnie chuckled. "Wait until Ollie finds out he's a step-dad."
"I think Black Canary is in for the bigger shock," the professor said. "She's currently under the misconception that she is this little girl here."
"Yeah, that will be a pretty big shock," Ronnie agreed.
"It's almost a shame to head back to the States," a shirtless Steel said, walking up to them. "This island seems to have everything we need for an extended vacation. Four grass huts, fishing gear, cooking utensils..." He looked back to where Vixen and Arthur Junior were frolicking in the waves. Naturally, the boy swam like a dolphin. Though he remained mute as ever, he seemed to have no trouble communicating with Laurel, and he wondered if the boy was using a form of telepathy inherited from his parents. "And the kids seem to be having a blast."
"The JLA are under attack," Red Tornado said. "We were ambushed so we couldn't assist them. Now that we are back on Earth and the children are rested, we must get back to America to assist them."
Nightmaster walked toward the group, carrying a large piece of wood. Like the younger heroes, he had also stripped to the waist to enjoy the tropical climate, and his long hair seemed to blow in the breeze for dramatic effect. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we're not home yet."
"Huh?" Steel said. The rest of the group had an equally puzzled expression.
"What do you mean?" Ronnie said. "What about all that stuff we found? Like that old radio? A teddy bear? The high-heeled shoes?"
"We're on an Earth. Just not our Earth. Remember how Jay Garrick is a fictional character on our Earth but real on Earth-Two?" He flipped over the piece of wood. It was a section of boat hull painted white. Across it was painted the name S.S. Minnow. "I think we just discovered Earth-G."
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:43:00 GMT
Chapter 8: Moment of Clarity
by Doc Quantum, Dave Barnowski and Starsky Hutch 76
On the Legion of Doom's satellite headquarters, seized from the inactive Injustice Gang, the woman who had taken the name of the Dark Commander burned inwardly with hatred and rage for Nubia the Wonder Woman. It was that bitch's fault that she had died in one of the most shameful ways a warrior could die -- in her sleep. She remembered the scene vividly.
***
At the Dark Commander's base, fire exploded all around the two as the Dark Commander fought Nubia, striking at her viciously, even clawing at her with the fierce rage of Mars within her heart. Nubia had betrayed her beloved god of war, and for that she would die at her hands. As machines fizzled under the heat of the fire and collapsed, the Dark Commander was momentarily blinded by noxious fumes from the burning equipment. Nubia took that moment to strike her, sending her hurtling backward through a bank of machines. She struck her head against them and swooned, but she managed to stave off unconsciousness, at least for now.
As blood washed over her right eye, the Dark Commander's vision reddened. She grimaced as she fought to rise, but Nubia had been too fast for her. Already she was on top of her. Then Nubia raised her powerful arms and grasped the machines that were still standing. She began pulling them from the wall, prepared to drop them onto her foe.
The Dark Commander's blood-soaked eyes gleamed with hatred as she saw the bloodlust enter Nubia's own eyes, and her face was dark with anger and madness. It was something she recognized immediately. Yesss, the Dark Commander thought to herself. Yes, Nubia, give yourself over to the god of war! The Dark Commander knew that Nubia wanted nothing more than to utterly destroy her, and she was blissfully happy at the thought. If she were to die now, she would die having successfully enslaved Nubia back into the ways of Mars.
But then something changed. Nubia paused and shuddered. It was almost as if a light had gone off in her head. No, the Dark Commander thought. Do not resist! Give in to Mars! Give in to the war god! But it was too late.
"Hera forgive me!" Nubia said, uttering a prayer to her adopted Amazon deity. "I was like one berserk with bloodlust! This is more of Mars' foul work."
Looking down at the collapsed and broken Dark Commander, Nubia withdrew, backing away from her while still looking at her face in puzzlement. Then, as if freeing herself from a spell, Nubia turned her head, looking around her. She smiled.
The Dark Commander inwardly seethed but finally began to succumb to the blow to her head. Her vision went black as her eyes closed of their own accord. She heard the voice of the one called Etta Candy -- the friend of her hated foe -- say, "Nubia, I'm sure glad to see you!"
"And I am equally happy to see you all," said Nubia. "The Dark Commander has fallen. Let me get you all to safety."
Then the voices dimmed along with the light, and the Dark Commander knew no more. In her unconscious state, she had the feeling of being carried out of the burning building that was at the center of the Dark Commander's elaborate base. She heard Nubia vow always to defy the god of war, and she knew that she had failed Mars.
The Dark Commander never awoke. The injuries to her head, sustained by chance during the battle, were too great. There was bleeding in her brain, and she never managed to recover, even with an application of the purple healing ray so prized by the Amazon scientists, chief among them Paula Von Gunta, a former criminal who had reformed and joined the Amazons herself. Finally, six weeks after the Dark Commander collapsed into unconsciousness, she died peacefully in her sleep. It was the most shameful thing that could ever have happened to her.
When she died, her soul did not go to join Mars. She knew that the god of war would never accept her again after her failure and her shameful death. Instead, her soul went to Hades, along with all the other common souls of weak women and shameful men. She lingered there for what seemed to be an eternity before he arrived and offered her a proposal.
Neron made it very clear to her that she had nothing to offer him, nothing with which she could bargain. But he would offer her life and a chance to destroy Nubia the Wonder Woman once and for all, if only she would accept being his agent, his pawn. Her first instinct was to tell him to go to Hell, but even she knew how ridiculous that would have sounded.
She had nothing to lose. The god of war had abandoned her, and rightly so, and she had no way of her own to get back into his good graces. She was now nothing more than a pale wraith. Without another moment's thought, she accepted her enslavement to her new master, Neron. And she was reborn.
***
The Wonder Woman would die, the Dark Commander vowed. But she would not die a warrior's death -- she would not be given that privilege; she would die as the Dark Commander died, from some shameful death like poisoning, accident, or suicide. But she would surely die.
The Dark Commander rejoined the others, who stopped talking as she entered the room. She was dressed in her warrior garb and wore her elaborate horned helmet. Brandishing her sword in two hands, she struck the ground and stood at the ready.
"The time to strike is now," she said in a voice used to leadership. "The Amazon must die."
The Wrath, reclining back on a seat as he watched her enter, said after a moment, "Patience, my dear. The members of the Justice League will all die, and then you and I -- and our muscle-headed friend Super-Menace -- will have our own lives back. But in order to do this, we must not go off half-cocked. You know this. Use your head -- if we tip our hand too soon, our job will be a lot harder to pull off."
The Dark Commander scowled beneath her helmet as she replied, "You are one to talk, Wrath. Did you not taunt the Batman himself the first moment you had free to do so? Did you not use the Marshal's telepathy to cause a hallucination in the mind of the Batman, wherever he was at that moment, with your threat to kill Gordon before the week was over?"
The Wrath, though inwardly angry for being called out in front of his team, kept his cool as he responded, "That was merely something to keep my foe busy. He is now too occupied both in personally protecting Gordon and trying to figure out how a dead man could return from the grave to realize the true story. I can assure you that at this very moment, he is pursuing a dead end, looking into my past criminal associates and trying to find someone who might be using the identity of the Wrath to exact revenge on him and Gordon. He's come up with nothing, and he will come up with nothing."
"Is that so?" the Dark Commander said, laying a trap for him. "Then what will happen when he discovers that your French maid, here, and her whipping boy are both missing? It won't take long for the darknight detective to track you down and discover your mansion."
The Wrath rose from his seat and stood as he addressed her. "Neron chose me as the Batman's opposite number because I am his opposite number -- in every way. Rest assured, Dark Commander, and everyone else -- I have covered my tracks. Even the so-called world's greatest detective will not find any traces of me or my closest associates, let alone my properties."
He turned to the rest of them gathered here and said, "And if any of the rest of you have any problem with the way I've been doing things so far, speak up now. I'd like to hear your objections." Long moments passed, but no one spoke. Even the Marshal, who also thought that he should be leading this group of rogues, decided that the time was not right to speak. Finally, the Wrath said, "Well, that's that, then." He sat back down on his chair.
At that moment, the transporter hummed to life, and another member of the Legion of Doom materialized within the chamber. The super-speedster known as Savitar, the Native American given the lofty name of Chief Crazy Horse by his parents, exited the transporter chamber and looked around at the gathering. Everyone remained silent as they stared at him. You could have cut the tension with a knife, but Savitar seemed oblivious to this, assuming instead that these villains were all in awe of the god he was becoming.
"So, I've met my foe," he said. "And I'm looking forward to destroying the Flash and the others. Shall we strike while the iron is hot?"
The Blue Bowman just groaned.
"What?" asked Savitar. "What did I miss?"
"Just -- just come with me," the Blue Bowman said. "I'll explain everything." Savitar shrugged and followed the Blue Bowman into another room.
***
She had graduated magna cum laude at Ivy Town University. She was a black belt in Judo. She was a former winner at the Miss USA Beauty Pageant and was now a chief research scientist at STAR Laboratories. She dealt with her problems head on, such as the harassment she had been receiving from that failed super-villain that STAR gave a second chance, Benton Beakman. She'd notified the lab manager as soon as Beakman first started his nonsense. She would have broken his arm if he had touched her. Her life was well-organized, and she was an extremely disciplined woman who had never had any nightmares or psychological problems.
Ever since yesterday, though, Cherilyn Stark was having gut-wrenching dreams at night and glimpses of hallucinatory visions during the day. All of them involved the disgusting lab assistant Beakman. She did not dare go to sleep, because she kept dreaming that she was sharing the vile man's bed.
While awake, she was seeing herself dressed in a too-revealing costume with wings, along with several other individuals dressed in costumes that made them almost look like negative images of the Justice League.
Occasionally she heard these individual figments of what she sadly believed were her imagination talk to one another. They seemed to hate each other almost as much as they did the Justice League. The single most disturbing part of these was how she was always in close approximation to the ridiculously costumed Beakman and that she was even doting on the man.
Cherilyn found herself unable to go to work and could barely function. She didn't know if she was going crazy or if something really was attacking the Justice League. In her current state, she couldn't concentrate long enough to contact the Justice League.
She screamed in frustration as a vision of her letting Beakman kiss her in front of several of the other costumed freaks as they were staring at a muscular man with long black hair who had just arrived among them.
Even as the vision cleared, she thought of her old friend from Ivy Town, Jean Loring, and how she had married the school's resident member of the Justice League. Desperately, Cherilyn tried to remember her old friend's number so that she would have it for the next moment of clarity.
***
The thing that lived inside the JLA Satellite computer watched the still form of Will Payton through the security cameras. It knew that its continued survival depended on this fallen hero.
The first thing it knew it had to do was awaken him. The sprinkler system activated, and Will Payton's eyes shot open as he found himself under a downpour within the JLA Satellite.
"What the–?!" he said, finding himself flat on his back. He blinked as the water continued to hit his face.
He stood to his feet and looked around. He suddenly remembered that he had been faced with a strange man wearing what looked like a purple pterodactyl skin. He had threatened both him and Sue Dibny, who had been left behind accidentally during the evacuation. Then he remembered that he had been struck behind. Struck by Sue? That made no sense. Had someone else been in the satellite?
He moved to the computer console to see if he could figure out how to work the security system. If Sue was in trouble, he would need to see who he was dealing with. That was when he saw the timer counting down to when the satellite would self destruct.
"How do I shut it off? How do I shut it off?!" he exclaimed.
In desperation, he placed his palms on the console and sent a pulse of energy surging into the computer system. The pulse disrupted the operations, and the timer came to a stop along with half the lights. The back-up system had kicked in once more, so only minimal systems and life support were still functioning.
The Dharlu had barely managed to outrace the energy pulse to make it to the back-up systems. It watched Will Payton with satisfaction.
Inspired by what it had seen in the JLA case files -- the good the JLA did -- this particular Dharlu had chosen to stay behind when its brethren had ventured into space after their confrontation with the Atom. (*) It had hoped that the opportunity would someday arise when it, too, could do good. That opportunity had finally come.
[(*) Editor's note: See "Skyjack at 22,300 Miles," Justice League of America #130 (May, 1976).]
Will Payton tried the transporter. It was offline along with most of the major functions. It would be awhile before the satellite was back to full operational status again.
He walked to the airlock, opened it manually, and then stepped through. Once he was in space, he flew toward Earth. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he needed to let the rest of the JLA know.
***
Ray Palmer had been at his desk doing the one thing he truly hated about teaching at Ivy University -- grading undergraduates' papers. Ray preferred to work with the students working on their doctorate, or those assisting him in his own pet project of reconnecting communications between the Earth-One and Earth-Two universes.
He was glad to hear Jean Loring's voice on the phone until he heard the reason why she called. Ray took down the address and phone number of Jean's old college friend. The woman's name was familiar to Ray. He recognized it from several articles concerning recent advances in quantum physics. The woman was said to be an up and coming star in the field. He remembered one particular quote that made him both wince and fill him with a bit of pride as well -- "Cherilyn Stark, the next Raymond Palmer."
Ray assured Jean that he would have Katar and Shayera look into contacting the woman, since they lived in the same city as Cherilyn Stark. He decided to page his protégé before calling his old friend, though, because Jean told him that Cherilyn had called her because of her relationship to the Atom. Ray was no longer the Atom, but Adam Cray was, and Ray believed that he should be on this case because the woman reached out to the Atom, no matter who wore the mask now.
***
Adam Cray was in the library doing research on his least-favorite subject, U.S. history. His pager suddenly and loudly started beeping. The librarian shushed him. He reached down and saw the number. He loudly exclaimed, "Yes!" The librarian's shush grew louder as Adam Cray left the library and ran as fast as he could to the other side of the campus.
He would have called Ray and then traveled through the phone lines, but then his backpack and books would have been left by the phone. They cost too much money for him to risk their loss. The run would also be good for him physically. He felt he was starting to become less than his optimum physical shape because carrying eighteen credits a semester cut into his gym time. He had to keep physically fit if he was to remain the Atom.
Ray Palmer inwardly smiled at Adam even as he admonished the younger man to pace himself when he saw that Adam was only slightly less than drenched with perspiration. Adam shook his head in agreement as he made a mental note to himself to follow his mentor's advice.
Ray suggested that Adam use the faucet in the lab as shower. Adam smiled and took out the gloves and belt that allowed him to control his size and weight. He stripped off his shirt and turned the tap water to a pleasant warm temperature. He shrank down to the size of six inches and hopped under the tap. Once he was soaked, he jumped back to the floor and grew back to his normal height, grabbed a nearby bar of soap, and lathered up. He then repeated the process of shrinking and going under the tap water to rinse off.
Once Adam was done, he hopped onto Ray's desk, being careful not to drip on any of the papers there. Ray picked up the phone and called Katar at the Midway City Natural History Museum, because he wanted to explain what Cherilyn Stark had told Jean only once.
The museum operator said that, "Carter Hall is currently out of the country, but his associate and wife Shiera Hall is here."
Ray asked to speak to her even as he thought that Shayera was probably a better person to talk to Cherilyn Stark because of what she was going through. He explained to his best friend's wife why he was calling.
Shiera Hall, alias Shayera Thal of Thanagar, alias Hawkwoman, listened and said that she would head out and see the woman at once. She also agreed to take the Atom with her. Ray held out the phone, and the Atom shrank down inside to reappear as he grew out of the phone Shiera Hall was holding.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:43:50 GMT
Chapter 9: Players on the Other Side
by Libbylawrence and Starsky Hutch 76
In a cluttered dressing room in a popular New York City theater, a lovely, raven-haired woman in the costume of a stage magician smiled good-naturedly as she held up a small plastic torch. A dark-haired man stood nearby with a raised camera.
"Great! See, you can use your magic to make the Statue of Liberty have your face," he said. "It will be a super publicity stunt for the network special."
Zatanna Zatara put down the prop torch and walked over to her manager. She calmly took the camera out of his hands and put it in one of the hidden pockets of the tuxedo frock coat she wore over hot pants, fishnets, and high heels.
"Nice idea, Jeff, but let's do some more brainstorming after the show. Now, you scoot so I can finish getting ready!" she said.
Jeff Sloane nodded and shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "OK, Zee. I was getting overly excited again. It's an occupational hazard for managers. We are what you could call hype-o-chondriacs! Get it? Hype?" he said as he backed out of the room.
Zatanna shook her head and grinned as she stepped over to a makeup mirror and made a last minute adjustment to her hair. While the Justice Leaguer was as devoted to helping those in need as her late father, the heroic Zatara, had been during his own crime-fighting career, she also retained a girlish love for entertaining. She relished show business.
"He means well, and he makes me happy! I think Daddy would have been pleased to have known that I found more than mere friendship with Jeff Sloane!" she said as she refreshed her lipstick and blotted her pursed lips.
Zatanna's eyes widened as her reflection in the makeup mirror suddenly changed until she was gazing at a beautiful blonde in a silky white gown. The woman in the mirror abruptly reached out of the glass and grabbed Zatanna by her thick long hair and pulled her off her feet and through the surface of the mirror.
Zee kicked and flailed helplessly as her body passed through the glass in the blink of an eye.
She gasped, "Allura, what is this? Do you need my help again? Is something wrong in Kharma?"
Zatanna then fell to her knees as she caught sight of the weird dimension into which she had been drawn so suddenly. Mirrors covered every inch, and their reflective surfaces dazzled her eyes with streams of light.
She stood up and faced the silent Allura. She had known the blonde elemental years before when the heroine had been drawn by a quest for the missing Zatara into a dimension known as Kharma.
"Why won't you talk? What's wrong?" she asked.
Allura smiled wickedly and put both hands on her hips as she faced the young woman.
"Zatanna, darling, I have brought you here for two reasons. I wish to see you suffer and eventually perish for the past wrongs you have committed against me, and I know the unique properties of this realm will vex you!" she said.
Zatanna frowned and stepped forward as her high heels clattered on the glass floor. Mirrors above and below as well as all around us! she thought.
"You're not Allura. That is, you aren't the sweet Allura I used to know. You're under the spell of the dark twin who once manipulated you!" she said as she closed in on the other woman.
She tripped and fell as something gripped her foot. She glanced down to see dozens of tiny red beings swarming up both legs and covering her with their tiny bodies as they multiplied upon contact with her body heat.
"Enjoy your last moments, daughter of Zatara!" cried Allura as she vanished.
Zatanna struggled to rise, but the magical creatures were weighing her down and had now covered her hips.
"Creatures begone!" she said in the backwards diction she used for her real magic. She clawed at the weird beings as they continued swarming up her stomach.
Nothing happened! My magic isn't working! she thought. She took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. She was no coward, but she was also a bit dazed by the sudden attack.
"Get off me!" she cried as the red creatures rose to her chest. They vanished as her magic dissipated them.
She had cried out from instinct, and now she smiled as she realized the nature of the realm had enabled her normal words to work as her magic normally did.
"My backward spells won't work in a mirrorverse unless I speak them in normal English. Everything magical is backward here like in a real mirror!"
"Very good, my love."
The words came from nearby. She looked down into the floor mirror and glimpsed the black tuxedo jacket and matching pants. It wasn't her own image she saw.
"Father!" she gasped as she saw her late father's handsome features in a mirror. He looked as dapper as ever -- suave, intelligent, brave, and as always with bright eyes filled with wisdom, humor, compassion, and a slight hint of menace. The hero's gaze could hold any of the above, depending upon who he faced.
She raced over to the mirror and looked at her late father's image in the mirror. "Father?" she whispered. This was no trick. As she looked into his eyes and heard his voice, she knew that somehow she was truly seeing her beloved parent.
"My child, I traveled through this realm once before, and its mystical properties retain some part of the essence of all who walk within it. I know you have mourned for me and my passing. That death occurred, as you know, and yet much of me remains within this eldritch glass!" he said.
Zee placed one hand on the cold surface as Zatara pressed his own against the glass so that, while glass separated them, they seemed to touch.
"If you live... if you can live... how may I free you?" she said.
He shook his head and said, "You must think of yourself. You are in peril. Look in the next mirror."
She turned her head and frowned as the glass showed what appeared to be her JLA teammates but in a bizarrely distorted manner. Superman's handsome, benign features were darkened and hardened by a look of hatred. Wonder Woman's lovely features were hidden by a metallic mask. Batman wore red and purple and carried a gun. She blinked as the image faded from view.
"What does this mean?" she asked.
Zatara said, "The image depicts scenes from your future. You and your allies are in danger from players on the other side, as the mystery author Queen once put it. Evil twins as twisted as those fleeting gazing glass phantasms await you all!"
"It doesn't matter," said Zee. "How can I liberate you?"
Zatara looked at her almost sternly. "You must break this mirror in order to return to Earth. You must scatter my essence to the cosmic winds if you are to be free. The evil Allura ordained it so in order to cause you pain!"
Zee shook her head. "No! I won't do that! There must be another way!" She cried out, "Father be free!" But the magic failed.
"There is no other way," said Zatara. "Time is passing. Know that I love you and will always watch over you!"
Zee stomped her foot in frustration as tears stung her eyes. She rammed one hand in her coat for a tissue, and her fingers closed on Jeff's camera.
She removed it, and her eyes gleamed with magical inspiration. She carefully photographed her father's reflection and whispered arcane words.
Then she inhaled sharply and said, "I love you, too!" as she broke the mirror with one slowly removed high heel.
Seconds later, she found herself in her dressing room. The glass was intact and normal. The clock showed no time had passed since she had first gazed on her altered reflection.
She heard Jeff said, "Showtime, honey!"
She shook her head grimly and held her camera. "Something far more important than a show demands my attention now! Something very, very personal!" she said firmly as she brushed away the last trace of a tear.
***
"I don't know who you saw up there, but it wasn't Sue," Ralph Dibny said as he handed a sitting Will Payton a can of Soder Cola. He sat down in the chair facing the sofa where the younger man sat. "She's been home all day with the flu." A honking sneeze came from the direction of the Dibnys' bedroom as if for emphasis.
"But she looked like Sue," the young Starman said, taking a sip of the soda as if he were trying to pause to gather his thoughts. "She talked like her. She acted like her!" He brought his hand up to his forehead, his face etched with confusion. "If she hit like her, I feel for whoever gets on Sue's bad side."
"You don't know the half of it, pal," Elongated Man said with a grin.
"So if it wasn't Sue, who was it?"
The ductile detective's nose started to wiggle. "Sounds like a mystery to me. It's time we regrouped with the rest of the JLA."
***
Cherilyn Stark sat on the edge of her bed, replaying the events of the day in her head. After having lunch with her old sorority sister, Jean Loring, she had felt at least some small measure of reassurance.
It wasn't unheard of to have sex dreams about someone for you had zero interest in the waking world. The fact that Benton Beakman had been a super-villain kept her from dismissing it. Plus, even though he might currently be working as a lab assistant, he was as great a genius as any of the research scientists that worked at STAR Labs -- not that she would ever have said that to him. She would never have said that to him. She had no desire to give him any encouragement.
The blackouts scared her the most. She was sure he had something to do with that. She was so relieved that Jean seemed to take it all just as seriously. She even offered to represent Cherilyn should Ray Palmer be able to prove that Beakman was behind it all.
Her biggest fear had been that the lab manager wouldn't do enough. If STAR Labs had been a schoolyard, Beakman's one time as a super-villain would have given him the role of super-cool rebel that all the other boys wanted to be like. It irritated her every time one of them walked past her to ask him a question. He was the lab assistant. If she had to sue both him and STAR, she would get things back to the way they were supposed to be. She wasn't about to be the victim of sexual harassment, sexism, or the old-boy network.
"You're trying to take him away from me," she heard a familiar voice say.
"What?!" Cherilyn exclaimed, turning in the direction of the voice.
"You heard me!" the voice said. Cherilyn gave a shocked gasp when she saw that the speaker was her own reflection in the full-length mirror across the room from her bed. The reflection was wearing the Lady Falcon costume from her dreams. "You're trying to take him away from me, and I won't let you!"
Cherilyn's voice caught in her throat as she rose to her feet. This was impossible. This couldn't be happening. She walked toward the mirror as if spellbound.
The reflection continued to prattle on. "No-good ice princess! A decent man comes along, and you want to ruin it for us! But since when did you ever care about having any fun? The only reason you even joined a sorority was because you thought it would look good on a resume! I mean seriously! Who joins a sorority for that? It's supposed to be about the parties! You're so dull!"
Cherilyn brought her hand up to the glass of the mirror. Her mind railed against it, but it was as if she couldn't help herself.
"Well, maybe you don't want to live, sister, but I do!" The reflection suddenly thrust her hands out beyond the barrier of the glass and grabbed both of Cherilyn's wrists. One last scream escaped from her as she was pulled through the mirror.
Fifteen minutes later, the unconscious form of Cherilyn Stark lay on her bedroom floor. She was awakened by the sound of someone knocking loudly at the front door to her apartment. She rose to her feet and looked over to the closet where the Lady Falcon costume was hanging. She pulled it out and held it to her, doing a playful pirouette as she hummed to herself.
The knocking continued, and she let out a sigh as she laid the costume on her bed. Whoever was there was not going to simply go away.
She walked quickly down the hallway into the living room and reached the front door. She threw it open as she forced a smile to greet the person on the other side. It was Mrs. Kellerman, the busybody from across the hall.
"Hello, Gladys," Cherilyn said. "How are you?"
"F-fine," Gladys Kellerman stammered, taken by surprise. Cherilyn Stark, on a normal day, was an intimidating woman. Somehow, a friendly Cherilyn Stark was even more unnerving. "I-I heard screams. Are you all right?"
"Oh... that was just the TV," Cherilyn said. "I didn't realize I had it up so loud. Sorry to disturb you. It won't happen again."
"Oh... ah... no problem. As long as everything is OK."
"Everything's fine," Cherilyn said. "Buh-bye now."
She shut the door behind her and leaned back against it in satisfaction. Yes, everything would be just fine. Nothing could keep them apart now.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:44:37 GMT
Chapter 10: A Reverse Justice League
by Dave Barnowski and Starsky Hutch 76
The Atom waited outside the door of Shiera Hall's office while she changed into her Hawkwoman costume. Standing on the absent receptionist's desk, he hopped onto Hawkwoman's shoulder when she came out the door. He was surprised to see her walk over to the weapons of antiquity collection before heading out to see Cherilyn Stark.
"Why take a weapon if we're only going to talk to a woman requesting our help?" he asked.
"One thing I've learned from my days of being both a member of the Thanagarian Wingmen police and the Justice League is to always be prepared. Still, you are right; discretion is probably best," said Hawkwoman. She frowned at the selection of weapons in front of her and decided that they were all too overt to visit a woman that Jean Loring said was very, very distraught.
She then quickly flew over to the section of the museum that held weapons of the native South American tribes. Once there she took hold of a small, foot-long blow gun and a pouch of ten darts. The darts had a minimal dose a drug that would put a normal human to sleep. "This will work perfectly," she said as she tied the items to her belt.
The Atom had remained silent, but he still thought that Hawkwoman was wrong in her needing any kind of weapon. She gave him a warning when they were about to fly off, and he grabbed hold of her helmet.
The flight over Midway City was uneventful but spectacular. The Atom's breath was taken away at the beauty of the view of the city from the sky. Adam Cray had never flown with either of the Hawks and found himself jealous of their wings.
"How do you want to approach Ms. Stark?" the Atom yelled, as it was the only way he could be heard at his current size.
Hawkwoman was silent for a few minutes before she answered. "It's probably best if she doesn't see you, given Jean's description. Why don't you shrink down even further once we land on her terrace."
"Won't that startle her?" questioned Atom.
"Jean said she was sending help, and I'd just as soon not go through the public doorway to her building. It could put her in jeopardy. People notice when we're around, Atom." Hawkwoman then scanned the surrounding streets and buildings with her superior eyesight before landing on the terrace of Cherilyn Stark. She audibly gasped when she saw a woman dressed in a scanty winged costume step out on to the veranda and take to the skies.
Lady Falcon saw Hawkwoman at almost the same time. She smiled at the thought of how proud Benton would be once she clipped the redheaded bitch's wings. Lady Falcon was a impulsive creature and gave no thought or planning as to how this could disrupt the plans of the Legion of Doom as she rose to the heavens above Midway City. The metallic nails on her gloved fingers grew long and sharp as she ascended toward Hawkwoman. Once she was within a hundred feet, the nails darted out from her fingers even as the gloves started to instantly replace them with new ones.
***
The Wrath sat fuming at the computer screen. "Useless," he growled. "How could you let this happen?"
"We assumed the man would remain unconscious long enough to be killed in the explosion," the Marshal said. "I certainly hit him hard enough."
"He did," Kasta the Thrill-Killer said. "He was out. There was no reason to believe he would be up in time. Still, I wanted to kill him anyway," he said with a touch of wistful regret.
"And well you should have!" the Wrath said. "Christ! Don't they have TV on your planets? Heroes are always making last-second comebacks! That's why you don't put them in some ridiculous death trap and then walk off, twirling your mustache and laughing maniacally. You freaking kill them!"
"Mustache?" Kasta said, bringing his hand up to his bare upper lip in confusion.
"I'll explain later," the Marshal said.
"Well, I've got good news that ought to cheer everyone up," the Falcon said. "Lady Falcon and I are getting married, and you're all invited."
A general rolling of the eyes moved through the group. "So you finally decided to make an honest zombie out of her," the Wrath said under his breath.
"Well, that is, after she converts," the Falcon added.
"Wait... what?" the Wrath said, squinting.
"To Judaism," Falcon said.
"You mean of all the laws you've broken -- all the sins – this is the thing you're sticking to your guns on?"
"Well, yeah," Falcon said, as if it should be obvious.
"One of those sins consisted of making a pact with the actual Devil."
"Oh, my people don't believe in the concept of the Devil or Hell," Falcon said.
"The point of whether or not you believe in him becomes a little moot when he's actually standing in front of you, doesn't it?"
"Oh, I don't doubt that he's an extremely powerful metahuman, but the Devil? Please. I'm a scientist," Falcon said with a dismissive wave.
"What do you have to say on this, Kasta?" the Wrath asked. "You experienced the worst he had to offer when he consumed you."
"My powers are also absorption-based," replied Kasta. "I even managed to convince certain primitive cultures that I was a god during my travels. That doesn't make me one, though." He turned to Mockingbird -- the former Magpie -- who was now sporting a long platinum blonde wig, and said with a leer, "If certain individuals should choose to worship me, though, they are more than welcome." She placed her palm on his face and pushed him away, making him roar with laughter.
"Sometimes, I feel like I'm the only sane one here," the Wrath said.
"You said it, pal," the Blue Bowman agreed.
"What about you, Super-Menace?" the Wrath asked. "Do you believe in Hell?"
"All existence is hell," Super-Menace said, scowling.
"Say, Super-Menace," the Wrath said. "Did anyone ever tell you you're awfully big for a Goth kid?"
The discussion was suddenly interrupted by Dark Commander, who turned on her chair from the monitor she had been watching. "Wrath, I think there's something you should see."
The Wrath rose from his chair to look over her shoulder at the conflict on the screen. His face visibly reddened as he watched Lady Falcon soaring toward Hawkwoman and the Atom.
All eyes turned toward Falcon. If looks could kill, he would have been dead many times over.
"Hey," he said with a nervous laugh. "At least the talon gloves appear to be a success."
***
"Tabitha, you've got a phone call on line one," the receptionist told the young production assistant as she walked by her desk carrying a stack of video tapes.
"Probably my folks or Adam calling to tell me how the family reunion is going," the young blonde said cheerfully. "I still can't believe she got Dad to go. I'll take it in Marvin's office. I need to drop off these show reels."
She set the tapes by on the desk by the name plate that said Marvin Decker, Head Producer, sat down at her boss's chair, pressed the button for line one, and picked up the phone. "KXLA, Tabitha Stephens speaking," she said cheerfully.
"Ms. Stephens, this is Jim Rook."
"Jim Rook? The singer? You're going to be on the Paul Thurston Show? I wish my mom was in town. She's a huge fan!"
Ouch, Nightmaster thought. Please let this dimension's Jim Rook be older.
"I'm not calling to book an appearance," he told her. "I'm not the Jim Rook you know," he said. "My friends and I... we're from another Earth. We were cast from our home dimension by an evil enchantress. She cast us into Hell, and when we escaped, we wound up here. Imagine my relief when I discovered there were Homo Magi on this Earth, too. We need your help to undo her spell and get home. She is aligned with dark forces, and we think that friends of ours back home are in danger."
"I-I..." she started nervously. I wish mom was home, she finished in her head. Or Endora, or Maurice, or Aunt Serena, or Uncle Arthur, or Aunt Minerva. Heck, right now, she'd even settle for Aunt Clara! Tabitha was twenty-four years old -- practically an infant compared to others of her race. Was she up to something like this sounded? If there were people who needed help, she couldn't say no. "I -- I'll do what I can. Where would you like to meet?"
***
After many years of calling the satellite home, it had come to feel like as much a member of the JLA as any of the heroes who made up the team. Someone had tried to destroy the JLA Satellite, and the heroes took it personally. The heroes who now stood in the monitor room of the wounded satellite looked on grimly as Batman brought up the security footage of the attack on Starman.
"Yeah, that's definitely not Sue," Elongated Man said.
Will Payton winced as he watched the scene on the JLA computer system's main monitor. It showed what looked like the fist of a large green muscular arm on Sue Dibny connecting with the back of his head.
"The Marshal," J'onn J'onzz said grimly.
"I thought he was in space jail," Elongated Man said.
J'onn raised one eyebrow, giving Ralph Dibny a bemused look. "Apparently, he escaped."
"Think this has something to do with all the old villains popping up out of the woodwork?" the Flash asked.
"I'd almost guarantee it," Batman said. He pulled up a screen of the villains they had encountered so far, starting with Super-Menace and ending with the Falcon, whom Hawkwoman and Atom were currently investigating. "Notice a pattern starting to form here?"
"It's like a reverse Justice League!" Starman exclaimed.
***
Hawkwoman and the Atom quickly dodged, and the talon-like projectiles from Lady Falcon's gloves struck the spot where they had just been, sending up a shower of brick bits. Both stared in shock as the winged woman continued to soar toward them.
"Did Jean mention anything to Ray about her being able to do that?" Hawkwoman asked.
"No, but she did mention the costume. Not a bad fit."
Hawkwoman shot the young hero a sour look. "Men."
"I know. We're all pigs," Atom chuckled.
"I guess that would make you one of those miniature pot-bellied pigs," Hawkwoman quipped.
"Minus the pot belly, thank you very much." He looked up as Lady Falcon fired again and dodged. "Incoming!"
"She may be brainwashed, but that doesn't make her any less deadly. We've got to take her down without hurting her."
"Too bad she doesn't share the sentiment."
The air in front of them suddenly shimmered. Before them stood the Falcon with Dwarfstar -- the former Mouse Man -- standing on his shoulder.
"Oh, great," Atom said.
"I recognize the pervert," Hawkwoman said. "But I'm not familiar with the little guy."
"Pervert?!" Falcon snarled. From his shoulder, everyone could hear Dwarfstar snickering. "Don't make me swat you," Falcon warned him.
"You guys are on the same side, aren't you?" Atom asked.
"Don't you talk about my man like that!" Lady Falcon shrieked, hovering above them.
"Don't worry, pumpkin," Falcon said. "Some people just don't understand true love."
"Oh, please," Hawkwoman said. "What you call true love, the rest of the world calls a felony. She's coming with us."
"Like hell I am!" Lady Falcon shrieked, soaring down toward Hawkwoman as she pulled her mace from the harness on her side.
Hawkwoman dodged as she grabbed her own mace and blocked the next blow.
"Oooh, catfight," Falcon said, eliciting another chuckle from Dwarfstar.
The Atom moved to try and jump into the fray. "Oh, no, you don't," Dwarfstar said, leaping from Falcon's shoulder to tackle him. Atom flipped him off of him with a judo move. As Dwarfstar rose to his feet, he reached for one of the longer, sharper shards of brick and swung it at Atom's midsection. The Atom jumped backward, reached down, and grabbed his own shard of brick. The two dodged and parried, back and forth, in a makeshift swordfight.
The Falcon's smile faded as he saw that his intended was losing to the more-experienced winged woman. He sighed and said, "I guess this is where I step in."
The Atom reached for his JLA communicator with his free hand. "Atom to satellite. We've got a situation here!"
"What's your position?" Batman said.
"We're outnumbered three to two."
"That doesn't sound too dire."
"It is when one of the three is the one we're supposed to rescue."
"Do you want reinforcements or an extraction?" Batman asked.
"I want you to extract Cherilyn Stark," Atom said. "She's what you would call a hostile rescue-ee," Atom said in a frazzled voice as he dodged a swing towards his head from Dwarfstar.
"Which one?"
"The winged female who's not Hawkwoman!" Atom could have sworn he heard a very un-Batman-like snicker from the other end. The air around Lady Falcon began to shimmer, and then she disappeared.
"No!" Falcon screamed in outrage. The Atom and Hawkwoman watched as the unnerved villain brought his own communicator up to his mouth and said, "Falcon to Wrath! My fiancée has been abducted! Extract us so we can regroup!"
"You're lucky I don't extract your head from your shoulders," a voice said from the other end. The air shimmered around Falcon and Dwarfstar, and then they were gone.
"'Abducted'?!" the Atom said, dumbfounded.
"I guess that's what you call it in his little world," Hawkwoman said, rolling her eyes.
***
"Wasn't she supposed to have wings?" Starman said to the other JLAers as they stared at the unconscious form of a plainclothed Cherilyn Stark lying in the bottom of the transporter tube.
"According to Atom and Hawkwoman," Batman said. "We had better get her to the infirmary."
Batman stepped forward and carefully lifted the woman, carrying her away from the transporter. As he walked toward the other heroes, he heard the transporter hum to life once more. He looked over his shoulder and was startled to see an enraged Lady Falcon, mace in hand, flying toward him.
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:45:56 GMT
Chapter 11: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothingby Starsky Hutch 76 and Doc Quantum Batman quickly dropped to one knee, dodging Lady Falcon while still cradling Cherilyn Stark in his arms. Instead of striking her intended target, she swept over him and found herself soaring toward the other startled JLA members. Rather than cringe, she let out another bloodcurdling scream and reared back farther with her mace. Her expression suddenly turned to one of shock. She whirled around in the direction of the transporters, where Hawkwoman and the Atom now stood. Hawkwoman was holding a blowgun. Lady Falcon looked at the back of her thigh, from which protruded a dart. Her eyes then rolled in the back of her head, and she fell to the floor. "Not your usual weapon of choice," Batman remarked. "I made the decision to bring it when I thought I was just dealing with a woman who might be hysterical." "You might call her hysterical," Batman said, "but I really don't find her all that amusing." The group looked at each other, smiling. Did Batman really just make a joke? "Atom talked me into bringing my mace at the last minute, which came in handy, but I'm still glad I brought the blowgun," Hawkwoman said. "You aren't the only one," Batman said, sitting the unconscious Cherilyn Stark in a chair. "The big question is, why are there two of them now?" "I can tell you why," said the Martian Manhunter, running a diagnostic scan of the transporter. "Because the transporter's computer recognized them as two separate entities, so it beamed them up as such." " Two?" the Flash said, scratching his head. "What in God's name are we dealing with, here?" "I'd be willing to bet God has nothing to do with it," Batman said grimly. "You're more right about that than you know, Batman." The Justice Leaguers turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Green Lantern had just flown into the JLA Satellite by using his power ring to make himself intangible. "G.L., glad you could make it," said Batman. "We were wondering where you were." "I tried to make it earlier, but I was fighting for my life at the time," said Green Lantern. "Really? Do tell," said Batman. Green Lantern frowned and began to explain himself. "I was finishing up some business at Ferris Aircraft when I was suddenly attacked by another ring-wielder -- a giant of a man who eerily resembles Alan Scott, of all people. He had all of Alan's willpower, but none of his compassion. This man was utterly ruthless. I'm convinced that he would have killed me had I not been lucky." "I didn't think you believed in luck, G.L.," said the Martian Manhunter, still standing by the transporter. "I make my own luck," said Green Lantern, grinning. But the smile quickly faded, and he became serious once more. "Gentlemen, if this Lady Falcon, here, isn't enough proof for all of you, we are indeed under attack by none other than the forces of darkness." "If you know what's happening, G.L., please tell us," said Batman. "A man named Neron has constructed his own reverse Justice League," continued the Lantern. "Now, Neron himself is a puzzle. By all accounts he seems to be the Prince of Darkness, but I tend to think he's circulated most of those rumors himself. It's more likely that he's either an immortal metahuman or an immortal alien posing as Old Scratch, except as a powerfully built blond man rather than parading around with horns and a tail. He's been around for a very long time, but only recently has he begun approaching individual heroes and villains, tempting them with whatever they want in exchange for a small price -- their souls." The Flash gasped loudly enough for everyone to turn. "I -- I think I've met him. It was months ago, back when I had my health problems. I was dreaming a very strange dream at the time, and a man matching that description approached me, offering to cure me of my disease in exchange for my soul." (*) [(*) See The Flash: Terminal Velocity, Chapter 16: Striking a Bargain.]"Yes, well, a few of us may have met him while awake, too, and never knew it," continued Green Lantern. "In any case, this Neron fellow has turned a group of second- and third-stringer super-villains into an evil version of the Justice League, matching each of us with a counterpart by amplifying their powers and sometimes also twisting their personalities. There were thirteen of them originally, but now there are fifteen, one for each of the JLAers still around, including Starman. Neron was also behind the disappearances of Red Tornado, Firestorm, Steel, and Vixen. I suppose he decided to cut off his own membership with the most classic JLAers, or perhaps the number thirteen was important for some reason." "Why? Why has this Neron character done all this?" asked Starman. Green Lantern shrugged. "It may simply be because he's bored. After all, if you lived hundreds or thousands of years, wouldn't you constantly be looking for a challenge, or anything to break up the monotony of immortality?" "I hope it wouldn't be that bad to live forever," said Starman. "Did you find out anything else about this these doppelgängers, G.L.?" asked Batman. "Yes. And I know that they plan to destroy us. That's why they're called the Legion of Doom." The JLAers were silent for several moments, until the Atom muttered, "Kind of a silly name, though." "That may be, but you'd be a fool to underestimate them," said the Lantern. "My inside knowledge will give us an advantage over them, but only for a short time. Soon, they'll know that they've been compromised, if they don't already." "What I don't understand is how you found out about all this," said J'onn J'onzz. "It's not too difficult if you have this," said Green Lantern, raising his power ring. Batman began, "Yes, but--" "And if you happen to have one of the Legion of Doom members trapped within it," said the Lantern. At that, he created a three-dimensional image of his ring, which expanded to gigantic size until the world within the power ring could be seen. There, lying prone upon the ground, was Green Lantern's opposite number. "His name is Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame," said Green Lantern, "and I extracted from his mind everything I needed to know. I think it's time to gather the rest of the JLA, but somewhere away from the satellite, just to be safe. It's time that we strike back." The other Justice Leaguers agreed, and the Martian Manhunter sent out a Priority One signal to the remaining JLAers. Green Lantern smiled as he looked around. This couldn't have worked out better. Not even the JLA's Martian mind-reader would be able to detect his true identity, thanks to the Marshal's handiwork. He just hoped that the Wrath would be able to keep the Legion under control long enough to go through with the rest of the plan. *** In the land within the power ring, Lord Malvolio of the Green Flame stirred and pushed himself off the ground, then brushed dust off his face. The first thing that alarmed him was the size of his hands. The second was that he was wearing purple gloves. "What the--?!" he cried, and quickly rose to his feet, but stumbled over. He was surprised that even the weight distribution of his body seemed to be out of kilter. It was not at all normal for him. Without thinking about it first, he willed his ring to take him into the sky to find out where he was. But that was when he noticed he was wearing no ring on those purple-gloved hands. Quickly tearing off the gloves, he discovered that there was no power ring there, either, and that those were definitely not his hands. But the really strange thing was that, although there was no ring, there was an indent on his ring-finger. He looked around and saw nothing but a wasteland surrounding him. There was nothing for him to do now but walk. He had come to the only conclusion possible: that someone had switched bodies with him again. That meant that, somewhere out there, somebody was posing as Green Lantern, and as Hal Jordan. Everyone he knew and loved was in danger. *** Special Agent Danny Fonzarelli swore under his breath as he raced after his target. "Give it up, Romanov! There's nowhere you can hide from me!" The Kaos agent looked over his shoulder with a scowl before leaping to the next rooftop. "Whoa!" Fonzarelli exclaimed. He gave a running start and leaped to the next roof after him. "Don't make it any harder on yourself, pal. I still owe you for scratching my Harley when you tried to run me down." "Nyet! I will never give in, American dog!" Romanov snarled as he turned to fire a shot toward his nemesis. "You should have stayed in Milwalkee." Fonzarelli dived to the side and rolled before firing back. He looked at the scratch on the elbow of his leather jacket and grimaced. "That's another one I owe you, Romanov. My father gave me this jacket!" Romanov gave a cry of frustration and turned to flee again. He gave a running start and leaped to the next roof. "Ahh... sit on it, Romanov," Fonzarelli said in aggravation as he rose to his feet and ran after him. Jumping from the next roof, Romanov landed on the catwalk in front of a large billboard advertising the latest epic written and directed by Richard Cunningham. Fonzarelli leaped from the roof to land on the catwalk, as well. Romanov swung wildly at Fonzarelli, who quickly ducked and delivered a blow to his gut. Fonzarelli then swung his legs out, tripping him. The larger man quickly realized he was outclassed. He gave a cry of frustration as he watched his gun drop to the ground below. Fonzarelli was startled as Romanov shoved him backward and proceeded to flee again despite being disarmed. "He may be a commie, but he ain't no quitter," Fonzarelli said. Apparently, Romanov was counting on his being too honorable to shoot him in the back. Unfortunately for Fonzarelli, he was right. Romanov jumped to the next billboard that read, Fill this space. Call McMann, Tate, and Stevens at 1-800-555-URAD.Fonzarelli jumped to the next catwalk in hot pursuit. Romanov looked over his shoulder as he ran, his face a mixture of anger, frustration, and panic. Romanov dashed to the ladder leading to the ground and scurried down. Fonzarelli grabbed the rungs of the ladder and began climbing downward after him. Once Romanov reached the ground, he turned to run again, but was knocked off his feet by a muscular arm clad in red, white, and blue. Flat on his back, he looked up and saw the patriotic visage of Steel standing above him. "Whoa! Uncle Sam's been working out," Fonzarelli said, jumping down from the ladder. "I saw the chase and thought I'd lend a hand. I'm assuming you're the good guy. Hope I made the right call." "Well, I'd like to think I'm a pretty good guy," Fonzarelli laughed as he pulled out a set of handcuffs and cuffed Romanov's hands behind his back. He pulled his I.D. out and said, "Special Agent Daniel Fonzarelli -- ‘Fonzie,' or ‘the Fonze' to my friends. And since you helped me bag a perp I've been chasing across several states, I'd say you qualify." "Fonze?" Steel said, raising an eyebrow as he shook the offered hand. "It's an old family nickname I sort of inherited. So who are you supposed to be? Captain USA?" "Steel." There was a sudden ringing, and both sets of eyes went down to Fonzarelli's right boot. "Uh, your boot's ringing," Steel said. "Uh... That's probably the office. I'd better get that." Fonzarelli took his boot off and flipped the heel back to reveal the ear, dial pad, and mouthpiece of a telephone. "Fonze here." Steel could hear the faint buzzing of whoever was on the other end replying in an annoyed tone. "I didn't use my call number, because if we were going by numbers, then the Fonze should be numero uno." There was more animated buzzing from the other end. "Don't worry, Chief. Romanov is already in the bag. I'll be dropping him off before you can say do svidaniya." Fonzarelli flipped the phone in place and put his motorcycle boot back on. "What? You've never seen a guy talk into his shoe before?" Steel chuckled. "Can't say I have. Your boss seemed a little worked up." "Ah, Max is all right. Maybe a little old-fashioned. I think he still longs for the days when all CONTROL agents wore suits." Steel could identify with Fonzarelli's sentiments, being a part of the new guard in the JLA. His JLA communicator then buzzed, and he said, "Uh-oh. Looks like it's my turn to call into the office." "Man, I wish I had one of those instead of having to talk into my boot," Fonzarelli said. "Hank, this is Professor Stein. Ronnie and I are about to meet up with the others. Nightmaster believes he has found someone who can help us. I'm sending you the coordinates.""Looks like I've got to run," Steel said. "Some friends of mine are meeting up." "I'll give you a lift," Fonzarelli said. "My bike's just around the corner." "No, I'm OK. I..." "No, you don't understand," Fonzarelli said, cutting him off sternly. "I have to accompany you. Individuals such as yourself have to be accompanied by a federal agent. It's standard policy." "Uh... How many like me are there?" Steel asked. "Well, only one officially documented... Curly haired, goofy guy, but effective. We had our doubts about him, but he turned out to be the greatest American hero. You look like you could be a little more competent." "You should see my friends," Steel said. "I plan to," Fonzarelli said, "after we drop off Romanov." *** "Well, I just contacted Steel," Martin Stein said to Ronnie Raymond from behind his desk. "I hope Nightmaster is right, and this girl can get us home." "What? You don't like teaching?" Ronnie asked. "I know it makes sense for us to plant some roots, just in case we're stuck here," Martin sighed, "but you don't exactly get the cream of the crop when it comes to teaching jobs if you don't have all your documentation." He passed a piece of paper to Ronnie. "Take a look at this note one of my fourth graders gave me today." "Dear Professor Stein," Ronnie read. "Please excuse little Juan's absence yesterday. He was suffering from acute halitosis and did not want to infect the other children. Signed Epstein, Jr.'s mother."
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:46:52 GMT
Chapter 12: One Down, Twelve to Go
by Starsky Hutch 76 and Immortalwildcat
The Flash looked on as Batman and Martian Manhunter ran another diagnostic scan of the JLA transporter. "Well, it's definitely not malfunctioning," Batman said.
"Then why did it separate them?" the Flash asked. "And why doesn't it do the same to other composite beings like Firestorm?"
"I'll show you why," Martian Manhunter said. He stepped over to another console beneath a large monitor, and his fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. An image of Ronnie Raymond and Professor Stein appeared onscreen.
An image of a rotating DNA helix appeared over each man. "When they unite..." Martian Manhunter began as the images of each man moved to the center of the screen, and the two helixes wound into each other, becoming one, "...their individual DNA unite, becoming a perfect fusion of the two."
"Sort of like if Ronnie and the Professor had a kid," the Flash said.
"As disturbing a mental image as that statement conjures... essentially, yes," the Martian Manhunter said.
His hands moved across the keyboard again, and the current image was replaced with an image of Lady Falcon with a winding DNA helix before her. Her image faded, to be replaced by Cherilyn Stark. "This is how the computer perceived her: two beings trying to occupy the same space at the same time."
Batman gave a knowing nod and said, "So the same safety feature that activates when two or more JLA members are trying to beam in at the same time kicked in and brought them in separately."
"So the same thing that would keep you and me from becoming Bat-Flash separated them," said the Flash.
"More like splatters of red jelly on the transporter walls, but yes," Batman said.
"So what is Lady Falcon?" asked the Flash, looking toward the holding cell where the villainess lay sedated.
"Whatever she was, she's human now," Batman said. "Though slightly stronger and more agile, much like a Thanagarian."
Watching this conversation from a nearby chair sat a fuming Lord Malvolio, still disguised as Hal Jordan. Oh, what a mess that buffoon, Falcon, had caused with his mad plaything. How was he going to fix this without the entire operation being jeopardized?
***
The sun was setting in the Southern California desert as the small procession of vehicles drove toward a small yet prominent mesa. A yellow Volkswagen Beetle led the way, followed by a white van. An older Harley Davidson motorcycle brought up the rear, its rider clad in blue jeans and a leather jacket. They drove up to the base of the mesa, then came to a halt as the sky eased from a purplish pink in the west to a deep indigo in the east. The doors of the car and van opened, and the occupants stepped out.
"I still don't understand why we had to come all the way out here," said Ronnie Raymond as he climbed out of the back of the van with the young Dinah Laurel Lance in his arms. "I mean, we're talking magic, right? Why does the location matter?"
Tabitha Stephens looked over at him as she closed the door of her Volkswagen. "Magic flows around the world in currents. Yes, it's all around us, but in some locations it's much stronger than others. That's why my ancestors guided the settlers to the Salem area to build their settlement. Several mystic ley lines intersect there, just as they do here," she said, gesturing up at the mesa behind her. "I've come out here a few times when I felt drained after a hard week at work."
On the other side of her car, Jim Rook nodded as he lifted the coif of his costume up over his head. "I realized that I was at a similar intersection the first time I travelled between worlds. I learned to avoid them."
"So, do you zap us up there, or–?" asked Steel, his armored costume catching the last bits of sunlight as he stepped down from the back of the van.
"That is probably not the wisest course," replied Red Tornado, who was holding Arthur Curry, Jr. in his hands. "I surmise that the reason Miss Stephens brought us out here was because this conjuration will require great power -- power that should not be wasted on simple transport."
"Thank you, yes, I really need to save my strength for this." Tabitha looked around. "You folks OK with getting up there on your own?"
Ronnie glanced at Martin Stein and handed Laurel off to Vixen. "Yeah, just have to take care of one detail here." There was a flash, and the sound of a fireball expanding and collapsing. Martin seemed to vanish, and Ronnie morphed into a taller, thinner figure with a blazing head, dressed in vivid yellow and red. "I didn't think I'd travel too well in that van like this."
"Whoa!" Firestorm turned to see Danny Fonzarelli walking up from where he'd parked his motorcycle. "You weren't kidding about your friends, were you?" he asked Steel.
"Nope." Steel turned back toward the others. "Folks, this is the federal agent I told you about: Danny Fonzarelli."
"Call me Fonzie," said the young man with a wide smile as he scanned the group, his eyes coming to rest on Vixen. "Of course, you can call me anything you like."
The tall African woman looked at him, her lips drawing back enough to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth as she let out a growl that was none too friendly. "Don't get any wise ideas," she said in a low voice.
"Heyyy, no problemo. We'll just work on that later, OK?"
"So, you want us up top?" asked Firestorm, diverting everyone's attention. He gestured, and a stream of energy formed at his fingertips and spread out. The ground under their feet shifted, becoming an aluminum platform that lifted into the air as he flew upward. A few minutes later, the platform landed on top of the mesa, then melded into the ground once more. "Anything else?"
"Umm, no," answered a flustered Tabitha. Growing up with a mother, grandmother, and extended family who worked magic was one thing, but these people seemed to have strange powers that they used with no effort at all. She walked toward the center of the mesa, and the others followed. Once there, she directed the others to circle around her and clasp hands.
"Have you ever done this before?" asked Jim.
"Not really," replied the young woman. "That's why I have to do this the hard way."
"What do you mean?" asked Vixen.
"There are two ways to approach this. One is a transport spell, which I could use to send you somewhere. The other is a portal, which I'll create, then I'll take you through. I have to do that, because I don't know which direction I need to send you through the dimensional ether. I'll have to be your guide till we get to the right dimension. Once I do that, I can return here on my own."
"Are you sure you can do that by yourself?" asked Red Tornado. "If your inexperience is keeping you from sending us directly to our own timeline, will you be able to find your way back?"
"That's actually the easy part. As we move through the alternative timelines, we'll leave a sort of mystic breadcrumb trail that I can follow back here."
From outside the circle, Fonzie spoke. "But you'll be doing it by yourself. That ain't gonna happen." He stepped forward, breaking the grip that Steel and Red Tornado had on each other's hands to take a place between them. "I'll go with you and make sure you find your way back here."
"You don't have to -- thank you." Tabitha extended her arms and shook them out, taking a deep breath as she did so. "Everybody, hold tight to each other; don't let go. Remember what we talked about in the car -- try to visualize the things that made your timeline unique. That will help us zero in on it."
Everybody nodded, and a hush fell over the mesa. The young witch started chanting words that the others could barely hear, and that none of them could understand nor recall. The air above them was suffused with a bluish glow, which started to turn in the air. There was a crackling sound as the pool of light spun faster, forming a whirlpool with a black center. As it spun faster, the blackness grew larger and larger, until only a thin outline of blue light surrounded it. Tabitha cried out, "Now!" And the nimbus of light dropped down over the group.
***
The transporter hummed as Starman exited the JLA Satellite. Having been gone for some time, the young hero felt an obligation to check in with his family. He promised join up with the group again soon to prepare for the upcoming battle.
"I am afraid I must make my exit, as well," the Martian Manhunter sighed. "Nubia has tickets to something called Cats. You would not think an Amazon from a place called Slaughter Island would be so... fascinated... by musical theater."
"Let me get this straight," the Flash said. "The Justice League is basically under siege and you're about to take in a show?"
"Nubia is far scarier than any Legion of Doom," Martian Manhunter said. "Far, far scarier."
"I believe it," said the Atom.
The Flash looked toward Batman. "He might as well," said Batman. "We're in hurry up and wait mode for the time being, until they make their next move. You will leave your JLA communicator on, though, J'onn, in case we need you."
"Of course," J'onn J'onzz said, stepping into the transporter. "Call, I beg of you..." The transporter hummed to life, and J'onn disappeared as the room broke into laughter. Even the Flash had to laugh at that last remark.
Satisfied that the two most powerful men were now safely off the satellite, Hal Jordan's power ring lit up. A green hammer suddenly formed and smashed against the large window on the other side of the room displaying a star-filled panorama of outer space. The stunned Justice Leaguers looked on, wide-eyed with shock as the green energy-hammer smashed through with a shower of glass, and everything in the room began to be sucked toward the damaged window that now exposed the interior to the vacuum of space.
Forcing himself to think over the panic that wanted to consume him, the Flash grabbed the Atom in his right hand as the pocket-sized hero was being sucked toward the large hole in the satellite's exterior. He raced in a circle around the other Justice Leaguers, moving fast enough to form a virtual solid shell around them, protecting them from the vacuum. Even as a single gas molecule tried to move toward the hole behind the wall, it would bump into him, and then the one next to it would bump into him when he would come around to block it again, and so on and so on. Racing as he never had before, visions of another Flash's final race coursed through his mind as he ran. "Oh, God... Oh, God..."
The emerald energy of the bogus Green Lantern's ring pierced the force-shield of Lady Falcon's cell and enveloped her. Within a matter of seconds, she was enveloped in a green globe, and the two of them flew through the hole and out of the satellite.
In the heart of the Flash's protective field, Batman fought against the winds to reach a nearby console and slap a large red button. Metal doors slammed down over the window, sealing the satellite against the vacuum of space, while pumps rushed to fill the vacuum in the satellite with breathable air. The Flash slumped down in a nearby chair, both physically and emotionally exhausted.
"So I take it that wasn't the real Hal," the Atom said, rubbing his sore ribs from where the Flash had been gripping him tightly.
"No, he wasn't," Batman said grimly. "I'm sure the battle with Lord Malvolio still took place, but with a different conclusion."
"We should go after them!" Hawkwoman said, racing to one of the undamaged windows. Not so much as a green speck of light was now visible.
"Oh, we'll find them," Batman said coldly. "Because right now, the Wrath is sitting somewhere saying, one down, twelve to go... And I intend to knock that smirk right off his face."
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Post by DocQuantum on Jun 12, 2017 4:47:50 GMT
Chapter 13: Going Homeby Starsky Hutch 76, Dave Barnowski and Immortalwildcat The displaced Justice League members and their new friends sat in a circle, hands joined, atop a mesa in the desert of Southern California. The desert wind blowing over them had been hot and dry, but they hadn't allowed that to distract them as Tabitha Stephens recited her incantation. Even the children, Dinah Laurel Lance and Arthur Curry, Jr., seemed to somehow understand the seriousness of the moment and did not make a sound. The air above them was suffused with a bluish glow, pulsing and turning. There was a crackling sound as the pool of light spun faster, forming a whirlpool with a black center. As it spun faster, the blackness grew larger and larger, until only a thin outline of blue light surrounded it. The blue outline began to expand, surrounding them, and the desert heat seemed to melt away. If anything, it suddenly began to feel a bit chilly. Vixen gave a gasp as she realized they were no longer in the desert. It looked as if they were surrounded by a vast expanse of space. Stars, comets, asteroids, swirling nebulae -- all had replaced the sand and cacti that had been there before. They were all still sitting in the circle, even though it looked as if there was nothing there to hold them up. "Do not allow your eyes to distract you," Tabitha cautioned. "Home -- think of home! Keep that one thought clear in your mind!" A shape began to form in the middle of their circle. It was Earth -- their Earth. "This is it!" Steel said jubilantly. "We're going home!" Earth-One suddenly shimmered out of view, to be replaced by the sinister blonde visage of Allura. "Ah-ah- ah," Allura said, waving a finger. "Not so fast, little witch. Did you really think some half-breed homo magi could break my spell?" Her image suddenly exploded outward. Everyone ducked and rolled, except for Red Tornado and Vixen, who turned their backs to the explosion to shield their young charges from the blast. Their stomachs all seemed to twist, and their minds reeled with a sudden sense of vertigo. They were going somewhere, but it probably wasn't home. *** In the former Injustice Gang satellite, the Wrath double-checked the data from the limited download the Legion of Doom had gotten from the Justice League's satellite computer. He smiled as he said, "OK, it's time to do a little divide and conquer. Do you all know what you're supposed to do?" "I don't like the idea of this green guy being in my head," growled Super-Menace. "Would you prefer being defeated by Superman again?" asked the Marshal. Super-Menace was very, very tempted to rip the Martian's head off, but instead he said, "Luck is the only reason he's not dead yet." "Maybe... maybe not," said Wrath in a placating manner. He would just as soon be rid of Super-Menace, but he needed him to kill Superman. "We'll have the Marshal follow you in your attack next against the Man of Steel. He'll read the so-called Metropolis marvel's mind and tell you what he plans to do to counter you, and you'll have the final edge you need to kill Superman." And the Marshal will finish the job if you fail, the Wrath thought confidently. The Marshal and Super-Menace looked at one another contemptuously and flew off toward Metropolis. Both turned invisible as soon as were outside. The Wrath then turned to the Falcon, a disappointing disaster if there ever was one. "Your partner has caused me to change plans drastically. Fortunately for you, I've come up with a better one than I had before." In his mind he added, Otherwise I would have killed you."We know that Hawkman is out of the country -- probably Egypt. Savitar is going to go there and capture the winged wonder..." "But he's my enemy," whined the Falcon. "And the Flash is mine," added Savitar. "Right, and the Justice League are going to be expecting each of us to go after our duplicate foes. This will keep them guessing." Kasta spoke then. "Why are you only capturing Hawkman? Didn't you say earlier that we should have killed Starman instead of leaving him unconscious?" "I did," confirmed the Wrath, "but Hawkman's capture will allow us to trap and kill more Justice Leaguers." "In the meantime Falcon, Lady Falcon, and Dwarfstar will go to Ivy Town and capture Ray Palmer. The Atom is still relatively new at being a superhero, and having his mentor captured is sure to be unsettling to his judgment. You'll leave this note. It has instructions for the Atom to come to this address if he wants to see Ray Palmer alive again. The only member of the Justice League we will allow to accompany him is Hawkwoman; otherwise we'll kill Palmer. And Savitar, I want Hawkman, because this way she'll surrender herself to us to save her husband. That, my dear Kasta, is when you kill all three of them," summed up the Wrath. "What are the rest of going to be doing while all this is happening?" asked the Blue Bowman. "Eliminating the other Justice Leaguers," stated the Wrath. *** " Whoa-ahh!" Danny Fonzarelli considered himself a very worldly man. Like his father before him, very few things could catch him off guard. But finding himself suddenly in midair, hundreds of feet above a glowing desert landscape in the company of five costumed, super-powered people, two small children, and a cute witch was really stretching him to his limits. There was the sound of rushing fire, and Fonzarelli felt something wrap around his waist. He saw a metallic band wrapped around his waist and extending out to meet with similar bands holding Steel, Vixen, Nightmaster, and the witch Tabitha. Red Tornado and Firestorm were each airborne under their own power, and the children were securely in the arms of Steel and Vixen. "Something tells me we didn't quite make it home yet," said Nightmaster. "You got that right," replied Firestorm. "Besides keeping you all from going splat, I've got a shield up around us blocking the radiation that's in the air here. It's like Chernobyl out there. And, yeah, I cleaned up the air around us first thing." "Good thinking, Firestorm," added Red Tornado. "According to my sensors, there is no other life within two hundred miles of here." "Two hundred -- you mean, L.A. is gone?" "That appears to be the center of the radiation. Though I think the radiation was not released recently. Firestorm, if I read off some of my readings, can you calculate how far the decay cycle has progressed?" "I don't know..." Firestorm paused, as if listening to some unheard voice, which he was. Yes, Ronald, I can perform the calculations, said Professor Martin Stein, the passive portion of the shared personality making up the nuclear man. "Yeah, sure, Reddy. Just read them off slowly, OK?" The android powerhouse proceeded to call off several figures as the group of heroes flew eastward. After a few moments of silence, Firestorm responded. "Twenty-five years. That had to be one hell of a nuclear attack." "How far can your sensors operate, Reddy?" asked Steel. "Is this the only nuke site in the country?" "There are others. My sensors for factors such as radiation, temperature, seismic disturbance, and weather conditions function at a range of five hundred miles. I am picking up signs of radiation to the southeast, northwest, and north." "Phoenix, San Francisco, and Las Vegas?" asked Vixen. "So it would seem," answered Red Tornado. "Yo, what about our travel agent?" asked Fonzarelli. "She looks kinda out of it." "No, I'm OK. Just kind of drained," answered Tabitha. She looked downward. "We need to find a place to set down and try again." "Not around here. Too dangerous." Firestorm pointed eastward. "We've got to go further inland. We're more likely to find areas that didn't get nuked." "Salt Lake City? Denver?" suggested Danny. "Denver is a good possibility. It's about six hundred miles from here. How fast can you carry the group there, Firestorm?" "We're talking several hours, Reddy. I'm fast, but not that fast!" Tabitha spoke up again. "Let me get us there. I know Denver; I was up there on vacation last winter. That kind of transport is nothing for me." She looked around, seeing the costumed heroes nodding assent. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated, then twitched her nose. " Heyyy, who's got the harp?" asked Fonzarelli, looking around as the group found themselves hovering over the gate of a large wooden stockade. "Whoa, that don't look the way I remember Denver." "But it is an entrance to the city," replied Red Tornado, lowering himself to the ground. "Radiation levels are well within safe parameters, Firestorm." The rest of the group was lowered to the ground, and the harnesses holding them disappeared. As soon as hers vanished, Tabitha collapsed to the ground. Vixen rushed to her side, wrapping one arm around her waist. "I had a feeling you weren't feeling as good as you claimed." "So weak," answered the younger woman. "Felt like that transport spell took more out of me than the portal. I've just got to re -- wait! That's the problem!" "What?" asked Vixen. "I can barely feel it. The magic, that is." Tabitha looked around at the others. "No, you wouldn't notice. But there's hardly any magical energy in this world." Vixen closed her eyes for a few seconds, focusing on the totem figure hanging at her belt. "I understand. I can feel the magic of the Tantu Totem, but it is weak, and the animal essences upon which it draws are almost nonexistent." "Um, ix-nay on the agic-may, folks. I think we're being watched." Danny jerked a thumb toward the gate, where a pair of men could be seen watching them over the stockade. "Can we enter the city?" asked Nightmaster, looking up at them. "We've travelled a long way, and we're looking for a place to rest." "So it seems," said the older of the two men. He disappeared after whispering something to the other. A moment later, the gate swung open. Seven men stood there, all of them with rifles or shotguns at the ready. The older man was at one end of the line. "Haven't seen anyone dressed up in costumes like that since before the war, and the way you folks came in here is more than a little strange. You can come on in, but it will be under the eye of the Rangers." "Rangers?" asked Steel. "I thought that was a Texas thing." "Well, there hasn't been a Texas for quite a few years now, so we figured they wouldn't care too much. Now, if you folks don't mind, we'd like to get you inside and shut this gate before sundown." "Of course," answered Red Tornado, leading the way inside as a crowd of locals gathered and stared at the costumed heroes. He stepped up to the older man, noting that he wore a battered police badge on his belt. "I take it you and your Rangers serve as part of the law-enforcement community here?" The old man glanced down at the badge, then smiled. "You might say that. When the world went to hell twenty-five years ago, I was on the police force here. Last one of the old force left now, in fact, so they made me the marshal. The name is Jones. John Jones." At this pronouncement, Vixen, Red Tornado, Steel, and Firestorm each looked at each other with surprised looks on their faces. Continued in The Legion of Doom: Showdown
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