Sandstorm: Defective (1/5)

====Nanda Parbat Airport====

 

"Welcome to Nanda Parbat, enjoy your weekend!" a young woman exclaims, as a small group of men exit the plane.

 

"Yeah, yeah, thanks. Sir, this better be the last time I have to buy two seats for your big ass," their leader, Major Disaster murmurs, pointing a stern finger at the large man behind him.

 

"You know, Major, you'll still have to pay for the flight *home,*" a neatly dressed man whispers in his ear.

 

"Oh, shut up, King and hand me my luggage. It's got a pink tag. And for God's sake Sir, take those shirts off."

 

Sir frowns, and one by one removes the layers of clothing he's got on.

 

"I told you you should've got him a suitcase," a scarred man grumbles.

 

"Oh, shut up, I'm not made of money," Disaster moans, as he pulls his luggage off the conveyor belt.

 

"That I know. You're not the one who had to listen to Multi Man crying for a sixteen hour flight," Tockman chimes in

 

"They confiscated my phone!" a fifth, bald man screams defensively.

 

"I told you, you could've watched a film or something. They probably had Shrek on there," Tockman answers back, appealing to Multi Man.

 

"If you must know, I watched the Notebook."

 

"Oh, was that why you used my cape as a tissue?"

 

"I'm begging you Maj., let me take the lead this time, *unlike* you, I'm actually well versed in the art of revenge," Artie says, as he ignores Tockman and Multi Man's bickering

 

"The art of dying, perhaps," Disaster chuckles. "This *has* happened before hasn't it? I'm not making this up? King? King!"

 

Tockman looks up, now trapped in a headlock. "Oh, no he definitely has died before. Twice. Perhaps three times. I don't keep count."

 

"Well, ok-"

 

"Four. Of course I do, Major."

 

"It doesn't matter!" Brown yells suddenly. "A couple of years ago, I had Batman dead to rights! I brought Gotham to a standstill-"

 

"And you lost. 1,860 days ago. Do you know how long that is?"

 

Brown stops. "I don't... do you have a calculator?"

 

"Four years and eleven months," Tockman glares.

 

Multi Man, finally letting King go, turns to the others. "Who even wants Gotham anyway? In what way is that a catch? Never understood it."

 

====Nanda Parbat====

 

Sat alone on the floor, a slender, elegantly dressed man quietly meditates, unburdened by the horrors he'd commited. The window in front of him showed a magnificent view of the sun shining brightly on his kingdom below. Deep in thought, his concentration is broken when a large seven foot tall man knocks on his door.

 

"Master, we found them trying to break into the south entrance. Heavily armed."

 

Ra's rises to his feet, as a group of six Ninja enter, each holding a prisoner by the throat.

 

"Get off me-" the leader yells, as he's thrown at Ra's feet, his face stained with blood and purple bruises. One look at Ra's, and he jumps to his feet, only to be held back by his guards.

 

Ra's tutted disappointedly. "Drury Walker. Our business together concluded four months ago. Why, are you here?"

 

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare!" Walker screams, as he tries wrestling free from the Ninja.

 

Ra's looks down at him. "Hm. Revenge is a new sensation for you isn't it? More personal than the average policeman or guard, that's for certain."

 

"You killed Miranda-" Walker hisses, as he's pulled away from Ra's.

 

"Yes. And I *didn't* kill you. I consider that mercy. You, should be grateful.

 

"Grateful?!" Drury whispers, agast. "Grateful-? That labyrinth... Her... You've no idea what mercy is!"

 

Ra's shakes his head. "You're mistaken, Walker. Do you remember a time, April 17, 2018? Fresh off the back of the Havenrock Tragedy and your escape from the Reverse Flash, you had just started pushing your mayoral campaign. Your son's body lay in the Gotham morgue, while you procrastinated over his funeral. Doctor Gaige was set to be released from Arkham into your family's care, injured in a typical riot. Tragedy on top of tragedy... It does things to one's mind. Your wife-"

 

"Don't say a word against my wife-!"

 

"Your wife, went out one night. You probably didn't even notice. Where did she go, do you think? To cheat? No, she was of fine moral fibre. For drugs? Of course not.

She met at that godforsaken bar, run by that... godforsaken pencil, with her friends, Dragonfly and Silken Spider, assassins like her, you'll know them well, I'm sure. They talked through the night... But it didn't soothe her fears. So, she requested an audience. An agent of mine was dispatched from our, well, Nanda Parbat's, embassy in the city. And she took up a contract. Her words were clear. One night only. One night to remind her why she stopped.

Your family had a lot of enemies Walker, even before you took office. So, I ask you, who do you think she killed?"

 

Ra's turned back to Walker, his face red with rage, and finishes, calmly. "No one. She didn't hurt a soul. Ms Gaige understood. Her father understands. There's murder, and there's honour. You? You never could. You came here, with your friends, on a fool's errand. You brought them here, to fight a war, your war, that they were not equipped for, just like your brother, and just like Ms Gaige.

You *have* no honour. You *have* no shame."

 

Ra's unsheathes his sword, and aims it at Drury's throat.

 

"You're not worth this blade. Or my time." He turns around, and snaps his fingers, the Ninja escorting the Misfits from his quarters.

 

"Just you wait!" Drury yells.

 

Ra's pauses, he turns slightly, but doesn't say anything.

 

"The Society's coming, Ra's, and they're gonna tear you apart."

 

"Guards. You know what to do. Take them to the dungeons."

 

"You hear? They're gonna tear you apart!" Drury bellows, as he's dragged away.

 

====The Hindu Kush Valley====

 

They call them the Secret Society, well, just The Society, these days. For two years, they'd been growing, recruiting, and now, after years of planning their endgame, it'd arrived. Hundreds of their men and women marched through the desert, destroying everything in their path.

 

"We've been walking for miles, what gives?" a red and yellow clad man asks his cohorts. A small time crook from Star City, The Pinball Wizard was seldom invited on missions, and it was even rarer that he got answers.

"C'mon soldier, think of your cardio," another man replied cheerily, a silver hockey mask covering his face, patting him on the back encouragingly, as he ran to the front.

 

"Leave him, Lawrence," a pink skinned man murmured, floating above them. "Perhaps you don't understand how this works, Wizard. You'll do as I say."

 

The Wizard looks as though he might answer back, before begrudgingly closing his mouth. It was a fair question, he'd thought. Might as well tell them what they were doing in the middle of nowhere. In front, a large Egyptian man came to a stop, raising his hand. In front of them, a lake too large and too deep to wade through. "Frost, Brilyant, Mahkent," he beckoned, as a man dressed in white and two pale skinned women marched to the front, and, aiming their hands at the lake, froze it solid.

"Will it hold?" Adam inquires.

 

"You underestimate me," the man, Icicle smirks, as he confidently walks across the frosty surface, and the army follows. The pink skinned man, Sinestro, flies in front, and addresses the assembly, taking note of Pinball Wizard, now lurking shyly in the back.

 

"Many of you have questioned our purpose. Why we're here, wandering through this desolate landscape. It's time you knew. Two miles ahead, lies Nanda Parbat, and inside, the masterminds of the Arkham City massacre."

 

At this, several of them begin to boo and jeer. Many of them had lost friends in Arkham, others had themselves been caught in the earthquake.

 

"We promised you all revenge, and you shall have it. Not just on Nanda Parbat, but on the Justice League too, and, when we're done, there will be no one left to stop us. No Lanterns, no Kryptonians, just us. When we're done, ours shall be the only Society-"

 

"And the world will kneel before us!" the assembly breaks out in chorus, a proud smile growing on Sinestro's face.

 

~

 

Nearby, the Injustice League trek through the desert, the bulk of their luggage carried by Big Sir. "I don't like sand," Multi Man smirks, as he taps away on his phone

 

"Few do," Tockman mutters, a wink letting him in on the joke. "It's coarse, rough, irritating."

 

"Gets everywhere," Brown adds.

 

There's a pause as Disaster nods in agreement, and suddenly, "STAR WARS!"

 

Sir's sudden yell sends Disaster leaping into the air in fright, and tumbling to the ground, a chorus of laughter from the League and his camera crew. He wipes the sand from his hood, walks up to Multi Man, and pries the phone from his hand before angrily, not uttering a word, hurling it into the desert, and walking back in front.

 

====Nanda Parbat====

 

Ra's stands by the window, a glass of wine in his hand. Walker's words had not shaken him, he'd known many men just like him, and they'd all fallen. As he sips quietly, Ubu knocks on the door.

 

"Master, it appears Walker was right. We've detected upwards of forty Metahumans marching towards our position. The villages have already fallen. It's Bane."

 

Ra's smiles, as he walks towards him, placing a hand on Ubu's shoulder. "This is... excellent news. I thought nothing short of a miracle would bring them here, but there they are, arriving on their own free will... Humanity’s worst, all in one place. Hmph. Where, I wonder, have I heard that before?"

 

"Arrogance doesn't suit you, Demon," a deep, otherworldly voice whispers, sending a chill down Ra's spine. Ubu stands frozen in place, as though time itself has stopped. He grabs his sword instinctively, and aims it as his visitor, an armoured, red eyed figure. Ares.

 

"I'm sure you're familiar with this blade? They call it the God Killer," Ra's says, his smile faded. Throughout his six hundred years of conquest he'd had many run-ins with the Gods, but none scared him quite like Ares. Hate, death, conflict, these only ever made him stronger.

 

"Familiar? I, Demon, was there when Hephaestus forged it. You may have my counsel, but if you want my respect, you'll have to do better than these... relics of the past," Ares murmurs deeply, pushing the blade to one side.

 

"Subtlety... That was never a word associated with your kind, now, was it? A god of your stature would be better served in the Middle East, would you not?"

 

"The Middle East doesn't have Metahumans, the undead, demigods, *aliens*... The odd skirmish there is but chicken feed. Rest assured, war is coming to Nanda Parbat, Demon, I can feel it even now... And I intend to savour every minute of it."

 

~

 

"Master?"

 

When Ra's looks up, Ares is gone. 'How long was I-?' he wonders.

 

"Master, it's Walker," Ubu begins. "He says he demands an audience."

 

"Walker had his chance. Let him suffer the same fate as the rest of them," Ra's states, as Ubu bows.

 

"As you wish, master."

 

"Actually, Ubu, on second thought, have Darhk, prepare the asset."

 

"Is... Is it time?" a black suited, mechanical figure asks excitedly, emerging from behind Ra's throne.

 

Ra's nods, and he finishes his drink. "Yes, Ebeneezer, it is time"

 

 

====The Dungeons, Nanda Parbat====

 

"Let me out! Let me- Hey!" Drury called out, as his friends were escorted out of the cell.

 

"Where are you taking us?" Needham murmurs. The Ninja don't reply as they shove him forward.

 

"He asked you a fucking question-" Gar interjects angrily

 

"Enough," one of the ninja replies. "The master has plans for you."

 

"That's reassuri-ow!" Chancer cries, as a ninja slaps him on the back of the head.

 

"Don't worry about us Drury, we'll be fine!" Rigger says reassuringly, as a guard pulls him through the door, a "Hell Yeah!" from Chuck the last thing Drury hears as the iron door slams behind them.

 

'Alone again,' Drury thinks to himself. Ra's was right, whatever happens to them was gonna be his fault. This was *his* war, and they were gonna die for it. Just like Miranda, just like-

 

"Drury?" a hushed voice calls out.

 

"Who's there?" Drury calls out defensively. "Who's-"

 

There's a mechanical whirring, as an iron door gives way. Illuminated by the torches, lies a black figure chained to the wall, white wings protruding from their back. Drury recognises them immediately. "Norbert?"

 

Above them, in an archaic laboratory, Ebeneezer Darhk releases Norbert from his chains.

 

"It's time."

 

Done