Young Heroes Vol 2 - Issue #5 "Below The Pay Grade"

 

*Luna parkours his way up the wall and kicks off it slamming his fist into one of the “Food Fight” members knocking him or her to the ground with ease, he didn't even have to use his staff. These guys were the easiest foes he'd ever faced and by the looks of Felix downstairs, he too found it quite enjoyable as he used his monster to swat away the rest of the members like flies. Luna turned around hearing an elevated heartbeat behind him with his enhanced headphones and turned around kicking at the man dressed as a Mango. However, within a blink of an eye, Mango is grabbed by a hooded figure who teleports away with him. It takes Luna a moment to realize that that was the newest member of the team, Smokepunk. He sees an explosion of smoke shortly after and watches as she drops him from the ladder landing on his chest.*

 

Smokepunk: "Dibs!"

 

Luna: *Huffs* "Metahumans, always cheating."

 

Felix: "That's a raci-is-sm!"

 

*Luna rolls his eyes dusting off his hands and leans over the railing where he sees Felix's monster shield him from a sudden rain of bullets which come from nowhere. Smokepunk is quick to teleport back up beside Luna as he watches the gangster Loudmouth turn towards him with his Tommygun firing it at him. He ducks for cover but a hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him briskly into a dark abyss where his whole body shifts place, the air in his lungs, the organs in his body, all jerked to one side. Seconds later he emerges back out from the shadows like a deer caught in headlights gripping onto the nearest crate panting. He looks back seeing Smokepunk ducked beside him holding her bat completely unaffected by what he assumed was teleportation. Gunfire snaps him out of it and he peeks out from behind the crate seeing Loudmouth shooting his clip harmlessly into Felix's monster. Loudmouth curses and steps back about to unleash his sound-based attack, one that Luna had dealt with before. He's about to run to Felix's aid but sees him handle it quite well, his Monster grabs Loudmouth's face in its hand and lifts him up off his feet smashing him a few inches deep through the concrete.*

 

Felix: "Take that you bad man!"

 

Loudmouth: *wheezing*

 

Luna: "Good job he's durable."

 

Smokepunk: "Would be better if he wasn't." *laughs*

 

*Luna didn't really find that funny but when he catches her sparkling emerald eyes he lets out the worst masculine giggle of all time and instantly regrets it. He looks away from her confused look and quickly walks on ahead up to Felix cursing himself. He stands over Loudmouth who coughs in a small cloud of debris wheezing, Felix was a little rough but Luna didn't know if he could alter the strength of that Monster of his which now evaporates in a faint mist, probably something he should tell Vega about for training. Luna kneels down beside the incapacitated gangster and looks up seeing Smokepunk smash her bat through one of the creates examining the contents inside the packaging, she glances at him nodding to Luna.*

 

Luna: "Why are you distributing M-Pill?"

 

Loudmouth: "Money!"

 

Luna: "That would explain the cheap hired help. What happened to your better goons?"

 

Loudmouth: "A purple portal opened up when my men were loading the truck, then some sort of grenade came through it. Before I knew it my men just became simpletons! They just walked through the portal and left the crates outside, the couple regular humans I had there weren't able to move it! Cost me a fortune!"

 

Smokepunk: "Sounds like the M-Pill is being weaponized, doesn't seem like Alpha's style."

 

Luna: "He definitely must be recruiting the drugged Metas though. Loudmouth, do you know who it is?"

 

Loudmouth: "If I did they'd be dead! I know someone who can help you though. Snowdrop."

 

Luna: "Hmm, last time I saw her a building was on top of her. Then a blizzard came along."

 

Loudmouth: "Hah! That would've been her brother, Blizzard."

   

Artist Statement

This artwork continues my exploration into liminal spaces and the subjective nature of perception, a thread woven through much of my previous work. Here, the traditional space station "stop and revive" concept is reimagined as something more akin to a memory palace or a dreamscape. The ornate setting, rendered with a soft, almost ethereal light, contrasts with the expected utilitarian aesthetic of such a transit point, inviting contemplation on the nature of rest and rejuvenation in the vastness of space.

 

The central element, the round mirror, acts as a portal, a recurring motif in my art, representing thresholds between different states of being or dimensions of reality. Within its reflective surface, figures emerge in a brighter, perhaps more abstract space, blurring the lines between the tangible and the imagined. This deliberate ambiguity speaks to the fluid nature of experience within these unique sanctuaries, where the ability to choose one's desired ambience, quiet solitude or a lively social scene, extends even to the curated reflections of the self and connections to memory or loved ones.

 

Drawing inspiration from the evocative text, I wanted to visualise a space where the very act of "stopping and reviving" becomes an introspective journey. The difficulty in distinguishing between reality and illusion within this environment mirrors the way memories can shift and evolve, or how our perceptions of ourselves and others can be shaped by desire. The lone figure in the foreground, gazing into the mirror, becomes a stand-in for the traveller navigating these internal and external landscapes.

 

Like my other works, this piece seeks to evoke a sense of wonder and a subtle unease, prompting viewers to question the nature of their perceptions and the physical and mental spaces they inhabit. It is an invitation to pause, reflect, and perhaps glimpse the echoes of other realities within the void.

 

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Necropolis Gully Ancient Fertility

 

The only sound in the deep quiet of the crevice was the crunch of my boots on the debris-strewn ground. Towering stone walls, draped in vibrant green moss, rose on either side, making me feel like an intruder in a forgotten tomb. My matte-black suit, a product of a future this place could never have imagined, felt profane against the ancient rock.

Then I saw it: a weathered, silent figure standing in the path. It was a statue of a woman, carved from the same stone as the gully but shaped with clear intent. Moss crept up its base and clung to its form like a second skin. This impossible artifact, an architectural anomaly in this raw, natural fissure, stopped me. My steady, determined posture belied the storm of questions raging in my mind. The statue stared forward with blank, unseeing eyes, a silent witness to a history I had just stumbled into. My mission was to find my crew, but this place, this silent, stone woman, was a new, unexpected variable in an equation I couldn't begin to solve.

 

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Sparkline, Negative G, Whirlwind, Presage, Harvest.

 

Alias: Sparkline

Real Name: Zora Vi-Lar

Gender: Female

Powers: Super speed and fire generation powers

Backstory: Zora was a criminal on Krypton, who ended up getting thrown in prison by the Military Guild. Zor El was the one to call the Guild, so now she hates him and his family. Upon landing in Death Valley on Earth, she makes her way to Leavenworth, after recognizing the House of El crest on Superboy and Supergirl's costume. She would end up losing the fight against Supergirl, and now she's locked up in the Scabbard.

 

Alias: Negative G

Real Name: Gary Myre

Gender: Male

Powers: Gravity Manipulation

Backstory: Through with being screwed over by "the man", Gary decides the best course of action is to topple the system as it is now. Ends up overexerting himself in a fight against Supergirl, and gets locked up. After a prison break, his current location is unknown.

 

Alias: Whirlwind

Real Name: Roman Segal

Gender: Male

Powers: Air Control/Manipulation

Backstory: A former LuthorCorp scientist, that wasted millions of company dollars on a prototype Whirlwind armor. When Samantha Arias found out, she had no choice but to fire him. Frustrated, he came back with vengeance on the mind. Chris Danvers happened to be in the building on a field trip that day, and was able to take him down with ease, as Superboy.

 

Alias: Presage

Gender: Female

Powers: Various Mental Based powers, like telepathy, precognition, and the like

Other: Harvest's Lieutenant. Was rescued by Harvest, and has served him ever since.

 

Alias: Harvest

Real Name: Simon Valentine

Gender: Male

Powers: None, but uses future tech.

Backstory: In the future, metahumans take over, and human lives mean nothing. Chris Danvers, now known as Black Zero, is the overlord. Hooked up on red kryptonite, his emotions are out of wack. Harvest is part of the resistance, but during one of the battles, Feyris is killed by Black Zero. He decides to travel back in time, to fix how broken 2027 is. The best way to do this is to eliminate metahumans altogether. He develops Nowhere with the help of future technology, and starts kidnapping teenaged metahumans from across the world. He pits them against each other in the Culling, with a promise the winner will be allowed to go free, provided they serve him as his Ravagers. His Slaughterhouse Six end up capturing both Superboy and Supergirl, which accelerates the Culling's timetable. Many metahumans are killed during the Culling, but ultimately, Harvest is taken down. He's currently locked up, but the location is unknown to everyone besides Superman.

 

Cynthia Reynolds grew up in an abusive household. Once she discovered her metahuman powers of camouflage and illusion casting, she bought a one-way ticket to Detroit, where she used her powers to survive on the streets. Not long after, she was discovered by the Justice League Detroit and recruited!

 

In the New 52, she was reworked as an interdimensional nomad - a literal gypsy - who was separated from her family on Earth.

 

I love Cynthia as a character, but I think it's about time she gets a name change. The term is of some debate amongst Romani people, but given it's synonymous with screwing people over...I think it's worth it. BUT if Flash didn't do it, I doubt anyone will actually bother to focus that much on Cindy for a long time.

=Ten minutes earlier. Warehouse Six=

 

*Above them, the moth signal flashes, and then... Poof. The image fades. Ten turns to Chuck, to Rigger, to their injured and to Zeiss, tied to a post. Drury came for them, to save them, he was certain of that, and now he was in danger. The signal was just a omen*

 

Ten- This has to end.

 

*Charles stuffs a makeshift kite into his backpack, and nods "I know..." he mutters. "He needs us." Rigger perks up. "I'll go!" "We'll go," Ten corrects him. "Drury saved my life once, I owe him this." Chuck smiles faintly. This was the brotherhood he missed, what he once had with Julian, Blake, Drake. This was what made the Misfits what it was. Once. He motions to Zeiss*

 

Chuck- Dekker, can you watch him?

 

Dekker- With cheekbones like those? Absolutely, darling.

 

Chuck- ... Good, good.

 

Needham- You didn't say. Where *you're* going.

 

...

 

Chuck- No, I didn't.

 

====

 

*Halfway across the city, Garfield Lynns hurls Joker through a coffee table. He responds by throwing a smoke bomb Gar's way, laughing gas pouring out of it. He grabs his firefly mask, and activates the filters, but by then Joker's on his feet, and swinging a crowbar about. He takes the helmet off with the rod, as though he were playing golf, and stands on Gar's arm*

 

Joker- Tut tut, you call yourself firefly, but you're not bright at all! I asked you a question Fireguy.

 

Gar- And I told you- Drury isn't here you goon! He's in Arkham City!

 

Joker- Well speak up next time! Arkham. Dear oh dear oh dear. I was just there! That's... annoying. Ah, like passing ships in the night.

 

*Gar takes his keys out his pocket and rams it through the clown's black and white spats and into his feet. He chuckles. And then he hits him with the crowbar, and tightens his flower, spraying acid that starts to eat through what's left of Gar's skin*

 

Joker- Wake up and smell the rooooooses Garfield! Sidekicks, are my speciality! Why... they're my bread. And. Batter. How's that for a side splitter? Ha!

 

*Gar spits up blood, pulls Joker off of him, and wipes the acid with his sleeve*

 

Gar- The blaze fried my nerve endings the first time. Volcano did it all over again. This? Didn't hurt, and sure hasn't done any more damage than what I already got

 

Joker- Well, you *are* missing an eye. But, you know what they say- an eye for a-

 

Gar- Leave, while you can still walk.

 

Joker- You little rascal! So hostile! Why it's almost like... Heh. Where's the little munchkin, eh?

 

*Gar takes a fire extinguisher off of the ground, and smashes it into Joker's face*

 

=====GCPD====

 

*The two groups brought each up to speed. It was a lot to take in, but it the stories were not entirely unfamiliar to either parties. This was still Gotham after all.*

 

Ten- Ninjas.

 

Chancer- Undead ninjas too!

 

Selina- I'm sure that was implied.

 

Rigger- Heh, Jeez... I'm going to need a lot of napalm...

 

*Ten stands up*

 

Ten- What do you want us to do?

 

Miranda- Get out.

 

Rigger- Ha! That's... Something.

 

Miranda- I'm serious

 

...

 

*Rigger looked down at his makeshift splint, the only thing holding his leg together*

 

Rigger- Easier said than done, y'know? Not for lack of trying.

 

Ten- And we're staying regardless, Miranda. Do you know where this ninja cult is now?

 

Miranda- I can't let you two- I mean, look at you!

 

Ten- We may not be superman. We may not be metahumans. But when I was in Blackgate, Drury saved my life. I would've bled out if-

 

Rigger- -If he hadn't convinced me to help him. I'd still be blowing up buildings if Drury hadn't helped me out. If the Misfits hadn't brought me out of that hole I was living in. I'm in too.

 

Miranda- On your head's... When the Society attacked, and Drury and I went to the Belfry, we accessed it through a series of tunnels Batman installed. Their bomb disturbed one of the Court's burrows, and we arrived to find them fighting off Manta, Billings and half a dozen others. We didn't know it at the time, but somewhere down there, that's their lair.

 

Selina- They always liked Wayne buildings, didn't they?

 

*Ten and Rigger give her confused glances*

 

Selina- Nevermind.

 

Miranda- We go down there, we find where the owls came from, we find Ra's.

 

Ten- See, I might be able to help. When I was living in Blackfire's church, Sionis noted that his men stationed in the sewers were being picked off. He accused the deacon, but it's more likely that the perpetrators were these... bird people. Blackfire claimed he was immortal. Maybe he was, partially. It's possible that he was tied into all this somehow, using that... what did you call it?

 

Miranda- Dionesium.

 

Ten- That. When he captured me, I couldn't take much notice of my surroundings, but I knew I was underground, in those same tunnels. We can access them from the church.

 

Miranda- Thank you.

 

Ten- You're welcome. Now who did you say took Drury?

 

Miranda- Krill, Abner-

 

* "Slade Wilson" a deep, commanding voice replies. And Selina spins around*

 

======

 

Slade- Toys, Walker?

 

*With the slash of his sword, Deathstroke is free from his metallic bonds- another gizmo courtesy of Twag.*

 

Slade- The Court upgraded your suit, bug boy. You didn't think that maybe they'd have failsafes for every one of those gadgets?

 

Drury- Naw, I figured.

 

*The ties now wrapped around his foot, crackle with electricity, and Slade falls backwards, before coming to his feet.*

 

Slade- Not bad. Just not good enough.

 

*Norbert tackles him, throwing punch after punch, but Slade blocks each one. Norbert turns to his brother "You should run" *

 

Slade- Yes, you should.

 

Drury- You know The Court's involved, you *have* to know they'll kill us all!

 

Slade- Oh, they'll try, most likely. But what can I say, they paid me in advance, and it'd be a shame to let them down.

 

*Norbert fires a blast of energy from his fist, and Slade is hit. Like the pain of a wasp's sting increased tenfold, and coursing through his entire body*

 

Slade- There we go.

 

*Norbert fires another blast, now blocked by Slade's sword. Drury goes invisible, and attacks him from behind, but Slade's ready, and rams his sword into Drury's side, the suit sparking due to it's damaged circuitry*

 

Slade- It doesn't take infra red vision to see you Walker. Not when you're sweating so much.

 

*Incensed, Norbert grabs Slade by the throat and smashes his head onto the ground. A crack forms in the terminator's mask, revealing the hollow socket which housed The Terminator's left eye. In return, Slade grabs the knife strapped to his boot, and stabs him in the chest. The wound heals immediately*

 

Norbert- I heal now.

 

Slade- Oh I know. Who do you think *gave* you that blood transfusion?

 

*A whip wraps around Slade's arm. A napalm cocktail douses him in flames, as the others rally behind Catwoman, helping to hold him in place. He cuts the whip with his sword; They tumble. Slade then looks to the sky and sees the Dark Knight looking back- kicking him in the face and knocking his mask off. Slade holds a hand to his bloody nose, and smiles, before a gaudy coloured portal swallows him "Next time" *

 

Drury- And just where the hell have you been?

 

========

 

"We found him trying to fly in."

 

"Fly?"

 

"With this."

 

*Freeze hands him the tattered remains of a kite. Sionis snorts, holding an ice pack to his bruised flesh, and looks down at Brown*

 

Sionis- Well, isn't this convenient. I *just* sent my people out to get you. Hoping to finish the job, were you?

 

Chuck- No. I need your help.

 

Sionis- Ha! That's funny.

 

Chuck- I'm serious.

 

Sionis- That, is not.

 

Chuck- I couldn't tell you, before. I gave him my word but... Things are different now..

 

Sionis- What... What are you blabbing about?

 

Chuck- I'm not the man Eric Needham wanted me to be. Someone with answers. I wish I was, but I'm not. So I'm here now, to ask you to help us. End this.

 

*Sionis stretches his legs out onto the table*

 

Sionis- And how am I supposed to believe anything you say?

 

Chuck- I saved your life didn't I?

 

Sionis- Don't remind me. You also punched me in the face.

 

Chuck- - When I could've killed you. If I wanted to, yeah. But I'm not you Sionis. It's like you said. I'm just a man who flies kites.

 

====The Iceberg Lounge====

 

We shut up shop early tonight. Didn't take a genius to understand why. It was half four when we mopped Sionis off of the floor. Five when we heard the rumble of his goons outside, five thirty when we pulled the metal shutters down, and six when we posted snipers on the outside balconies. Believe me, the usual patrons were none too pleased... Neither am I really. Chuck... The hell were you thinking? I rarely drink myself- the toxins alone are usually enough to keep me off the stuff (never stopped me with the smokes, mind) but tonight's different. I drank the brandy in a oner- helped to remind me why I don't drink in the first place, and took a glance at those two floozies. They hadn't taken their grey eyes off of me since Chuck decked Sionis. Just my luck. Heh, can't believe I'm missing Mag's singing... I brush past the gruesome gals, and put my hand on the jukebox. I could do with a song. No money, but...

 

*He begrudgingly pulls a button off of his jacket, and places it in the coin slot*

 

Needed a new coat anyway...

 

*He selects a record, and the familiar tune of Sweet Caroline plays, a favourite of his. For three minutes, at the cost of a button, all is right with the world, it's tunes muffle gunfire outside. And, when it's finished, he places it gently back into the cabinet. He nods to the Kabuki, drapes his overcoat over his shoulders, and unlocks the front door. Twelve men, armed, stand outside. He walks past them, avoiding eye contact, and mutters under his breath "He's upstairs." And just like that, war came to Arkham*

  

Alter Ego: Tigershark

Name: Ralph Klein

Allegiance: Villain

Powers:

* Super speed and strength

Weapons:

* Thick spiked body armour and mask with sharp metallic teeth

Key Weakness: He has a large ego and often underestimates his opponents.

 

Origin:

Ralph was an expert kick boxing champion who was a national treasure, he went by the name "Tigershark" due to his signature move, he was known to circle his victim whilst delivering a flurry of jabs that would eventually overwhelm his opponents. However one day he was defeated in the arena by "Knockout" who was his upcoming rival. Ralph's defeat sent his career spiralling down from that day on and he turned to steroids to improve his game which escalated to more extreme measures involving genetic experiments performed by T.O.X.I.N. After months of intense experimentation in the laboratories he became a Metahuman. Soon later he entered back into the sport only to be banned because of his physical and mental state, with nowhere to go he decided he'd get his own revenge on the one that caused all this, Knockout.

Alter Ego: Marine

Name: Bare Grizzle

Allegiance: Neutral

Powers:

* Water manipulation and generation

* Can breathe underwater and on land

* Super speed, durability, stamina and strength when submerged

* Mild healing factor

Weapons: None

Key Weakness: He cannot communicate with marine life, so if there’s hungry sharks then... he’s fish food.

 

Origin:

Bare is a water-based Metahuman who used to be a superhero alongside his girlfriend. However, when she dumped him due to him “holding her back” he soon became quite spiteful. He saw her hero antics as a way just for her to get famous and eventually developed an unhealthy obsession with exposing her. The confrontation eventually led to a battle unravelling before a crowd of her fans and he was branded as a “jealous villain ex” which sent him spiralling downwards to villainy. He still goes by his hero name but is now a villain who will join anyone as long as their cause involves bringing down his ex or a “false” hero who has ulterior motives other than for justice.

Originally brought together by the Green Arrow to bring down LuthorCorp and their metahuman experiments, this team of heroes would grow far beyond that, to be the world's greatest line of defense against fear, injustice, and those who would do its people harm.

 

Three years ago, a Eurobricks user named Skier1215 suggested someone make the Smallville Justice League. I took a crack at it, and was pretty satisfied with it at the time. But since having watched the show, and growing to love it as much as I do, I had to revisit its premier team of heroes for some much needed revisions. Most other shows are getting a large scale group shot with all of their heroes, but Smallville was just simply too big to fit them all in one shot!

What does it mean? I look over all the information from Zucco again to find what I missed. The most helpful clues would be V, F, and that name that I can't remember! Come on, just REMEMBER!

 

Harvey: (throws everything off his desk, breathing heavily.)

 

Great. Just great. Now I have to put everything back where it was. I should've just interrogated Zucco, he was already knocked down, and I had the shard. I could've just-

Wait. I pay attention to what I'm doing, and see an ad for horse racing. Why'd that make me stop? Of course! Mareli! Mare-li! Luca Mareli! I put him away a few months back, he worked for... Maroni. Sal Maroni must've been the one to hire Zucco! And the dates correspond with when he would've first contacted-

I look at the clock. Shoot, I'm going to be late! Thankfully the trial's almost over, then I don't have to go waste time trying to protect or put away Gotham's criminals. If they do something illegal they should be punished a punishment matched to their crime. I have other things to do.

When I arrive everyone is there looking at me. I'm late. Buzz off people, it's not like you're perfect. Today's the closing arguments. Steven gets to go first.

 

Steven: "Today is the final day of the second trial of Drury Walker, aka Killer Moth. One of Gotham's many criminals, but not one of the brightest. He claims to have been under 'mind-control,' but the defense has yet to provide any substantial proof. All we have is the word of the accused, and the word of the man who is paid to defend him. Yet there is video proof, and the testimony of a witness that Mr. Walker is guilty. Video evidence, that convicts Mr. Walker. You all saw it on the screen. He robbed the bank, but didn't get away, so he got in trouble. And what do you do when you get in trouble? You blame it on someone or something else. Every single time anyone gets in trouble, they blame it on something. Whether it be on their rough day, their health or physical condition, or the fact that 'they started it,' everyone always blames someone, or something, else. Every time. Because they do not want to suffer the consequences of their own actions. So they blame. And this time, ladies and gentlemen, is no different. Thank you."

 

Playing that card, eh Malone. I know because it's the exact same card I used for other cases of henchmen for the bigger gangs. It worked, every time. And now it's being used against me. Just goes to show how fair Gotham City is. Now it's my turn to contradict myself.

 

Harvey: (clears throat) "We live in a changing world. Everyday, something new arrives on our doorstep. A couple years ago it was masked vigilantes fighting crime. Then costumed criminals, then metahumans with insane abilities. Yet one aspect that has been around for awhile is telepathy. Some of you may not believe in telepathy, or mind-control, but look around. Look at recent events. They've been around for what feels like forever. If you were to read the news today, I'll bet there will be at least one article that relates to telepathy or someone with telepathic powers. It's real. And on September 17th it was real too. Now, we may only have a couple of testimonies, but we can't exactly go ask the mind-controlling psyco for the truth. And this is the truth: Drury Walker was controlled by Psimon, the same telepath who controlled numerous criminals, to rob Gotham National Bank. He wasn't in control. Someone else took over his mind, and forced him to rob that bank. Someone else, who did this to many other people at the same time. Controlling them to do his bidding. And that's all there is too it. Thank you."

 

I sit down, hoping the jury believes me. We get dismissed so they can go make their decision, a decision that decides which direction a man's life will go. They come back about an hour after they left, with their choice.

 

Judge: "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, have you made your decision?"

 

First Jury: "Yes, your honor."

 

Judge: "And how do you find the defendant?"

 

-----------------------------------

Trial is over. Now it's decision time. I've tagged the jury in the photo, but if you aren't tagged yet still want to comment whether or not you believe Drury Walker is guilty, feel free. Though if you do there is one condition: please read the rest of the trials (issues 4, 5, and 7) so you hear all the angles included. The time to decide ends 24 hours after this was posted. I will tally up the votes, and whichever side has more is the verdict (I know it's not how real juries work, but that's how I'm doing it). Thank you for reading, and let the decision-making begin.

 

EDIT: Voting is now closed.

Young Heroes Vol 2 - Issue #4 "Finish What You Start"

 

*After Vega visited Hope in the hospital she was horrified by his condition if Vanessa never got him to an A.N.G.E.L. Hospital in time via teleporting he would've died from his injuries. She stood at his bedside beside his girlfriend, Vanessa, who was fast asleep beside him. It was her own fault this happened, she should have tried an alternate way to stop Alpha. But ending his life to save millions of innocents was more ethical, she should have made sure he was dead. Now her team is paying the price and she can't even tell them why. At the time because she felt ashamed, she's meant to be a mentor to the team and teach them to become better heroes, not murderers. But now it's because they might hate her for the injuries Hope received because of her actions. She couldn't let him get to all of her team, she wasn't going to let him. Instead of going public he's purposely gunning for her team. She had to finish him off, she had to end him once and for all.*

 

Vega: "I'm going to finish this."

 

*Within an hour she was there at Atlas Hospital, she blurred past as few civilians who didn't notice her at top speed, she was just a gust of wind. She easily infiltrated the hospital and zoomed through the corridors searching for the biggest room ever and then she found it. It's monstrous size suited the monster laying there on the bed resting peacefully, almost as if he wasn't a psycho who tried to kill her friend and take over the planet with drugged kids. Her stern face cracks a smile under her mask and she leans forward about to zip towards him until his head darts to the side locking eyes with her intensely. He flashes a fanged smirk and raises his paw to stop her.*

 

Alpha: "Kill me and you kill your team."

 

*Vega stops in her tracks frowning and clenches her fists turning to check the corridor for any nurses walking by if she got spotted she'd have to try to bribe them for their silence. Alpha's smug smile widens revealing his razor teeth and he sits up slightly on his enormous bed gesturing for her to come in with his large paw. She walks into his room closing the door securely behind her and takes a defensive stance for a quick getaway if he tries anything.*

 

Alpha: "I've found out who you’re team are, not you though. You're a ghost. But them, they have lives, loved ones that would miss them deeply. A source of mine has all the information ready to upload to The News, Social Media and the Dark Web. It will go public if I die... again. You couldn't protect Callum from me so how could you and your sources protect them all from every villain wanting a slice of dead-hero pie?"

 

Vega: "You're M-Pill has been destroyed, Alpha. It's over for you. There's still some out there but we will find it. We will burn it."

 

Alpha: "Oh that's not entirely accurate now, is it? I know D.E.M.O.N. has been using it to drug their most powerful prisoners to make their powers and free will inactive. But by now my insider should have said the trigger word and gave them the orders."

 

Vega: "Wha-"

 

Alpha: "Turn on the TV and go to the AC News."

 

*Vega walks over to the table where the remote is and uses it to turn on the TV, she flicks to the news station and watches horrified. A reporter outside is yelling over helicopters and sirens as an oversized headline reads; “TWO DANGEROUS META's ESCAPE: Just moments ago 2 deadly Metahumans escaped from their prison convoy during transportation. The Metahumans have been identified as: “Hybrid” & “Despair” and have fled to the city where A.N.G.E.L. Forces are now searching.” Vega turns to face Alpha, her blood gushing with rage. His lips peel back smirking at her as he raises his hand revealing a panic button for the staff to rush in, she can't be seen.*

 

Vega: "Whatever you’re using these villains for it won’t matter. I'll finish you."

 

Alpha: "I'm sure you'll try. Now you better run, little rabbit."

   

Former child actor, turned superhero.. That's me! Well it was, at least until the team I was apart of, the Doom Patrol, decided to part ways and disband. The team thought it would be for the best. To be honest, I'm not really sure who Beast Boy is, without the Doom Patrol. I thought that leaving Midway, and going on a world tour might help me figure things out. Or maybe that 's just so I don't constantly relive what happened. Still have missed phone calls and texts from my cousin Matt, along with Larry, and Rita. Me constantly thinking about it doesn't help things either.

  

So here I am in Markovia, a small European country, between Switzerland, and Italy. Can't get too much farther away than that. It's a country known mostly for farming and mining, at least, that's what the pamphlet said. What it failed to mention was the metahuman trafficking ring. Seen only as weapons, sold to the highest bidder. While there may not be a Doom Patrol anymore, I as a hero, should put an end to this.

  

For the last week or so, I've been trailing some of the local gangs, waiting for the right time to pounce. It's all lead to this. A meeting with a group known as A Murder of Crows. Yeah, a little on the nose for my liking, but bad guys aren't really known for clever names. I notice containment pods being offloaded from various trucks, and into the meeting place. There they are, in stasis, sleeping, most likely due to the green liquid surrounding them. Weird that it isn't killing them though.. Now, how should I go about this? I'm used to having 4 team mates backing me up. Going headlong into the fight will probably end with me becoming street pizza. Thankfully, they won't notice me as a fly.

  

"Looks like we can begin." One of the Crows says as he walks in front of the others. He's dressed up, in comparison to the others, so I'm gonna take a wild guess and say he's the leader.

  

"We brought them here, as promised. Now for you to keep your end of the bargain." A woman, dressed in a lab-coat replies in a thick Markovian accent, her eyes scanning the room, making sure there's no complications.

  

"Ah, yes. Of course. Bring the doctor her money." Crow Leader says as he points to one of his many followers.

  

"Yes Master Corvus!" The follower bows, his voice full of fear and obedience, as he runs off for a minute, before returning, out of breath, with a briefcase in hand. The follower hands the case over to the doctor, and she opens the briefcase. Flying around so I can see what's inside, it's just plain old cash. No USB stick, or anything digital. A criminal that isn't doing things digitally?! Well, that's a surprising turn of events. Makes what I'm about to do next quite easy. Changing into a gorilla, I land on one of the Markovian thugs.

  

"Really should've picked a better meeting place. I mean, you never know whose watching. I'll be taking this!" I say, as I grab the case from the doctor with ease. I leap away to avoid the gunfire that's sure to come, before crushing the briefcase into a ball.

  

"You set us up! You're gonna pay for that!" the doctor yells, and sure enough, a brawl breaks out, with those on the doctor's side shooting at the crows. Most of the crows avoid said gunfire, and vanish from sight, only to appear seconds later, behind the thugs. One of the crows lays a hand upon one of the thugs, and he starts to decay, like the life-force is being drained. Wait, is life-force even a thing?

  

"You know, you all could give stormtroopers a run for their money, being the worst shots ever." I say, as I change into a snake to dodge the oncoming bullets, before I change into an octopus, grabbing as many of them as I can, disarming them in the process. I'm being careful in avoiding the metahuman pods, as I don't want them dying on my watch.

  

"Waitaminute, that's Tork! From Space Trek: 2022! I'd recognize that green skin anywhere!" One thug yells, as Corvus places his hand on him, his decaying power killing the thug almost instantly.

 

"Always a pleasure meeting my fans! Ah crap, I was too late." I hit Corvus multiple times as a kangaroo, before changing back to a rat, to avoid the remaining bullets coming at me. After they all fly by, I change back into an octopus, wrapping eight more of them up in my tentacles.

  

"Protect the pods. We aren't leaving this place empty-handed!!" Corvus caws, and his followers change position, going more on the defensive. At least, those that I'm not holding now. All of the sudden, I feel this coldness, and sure enough, one of crows has their hand on me. It hurts more than it should, thankfully, this won't kill me like it did the others. At least I'm pretty sure it won't. Perks of being able to heal from wounds quicker than most. I change myself into a crow of all things, and fly to a vantage point. It was only a matter of time before I thought of a crow. Anyways, they are whittling each other down by a pretty good amount, but there's still too many of them. The lightbulb goes off, the pods! If I can wake them up, and get them out of the pods, they'll help me out, right? I mean, these people want to buy them, and use them for something. Either that, or they'll just run away. Well, it's the only idea I've got now, so may as well just give it a go. Now to figure out how to open the pods, without harming the people inside.

  

Changing into a dragonfly, I fly towards the containment pods, in the loading bay, weaving through the thugs and crows. Upon arrival, I switch back to human form. Looking at these pods, there isn't a keyhole, or really anything to signify how these open up. Only a white circle, near the middle of the pod. Well, here goes nothing. I place my hand on the circle and sure enough, the pod starts to open. The liquid surrounding the person inside starts to filter out, and reveals a girl, not much older than me, with long blonde hair. I never really understood why anyone believed in love at first sight, but now, I think I get it. Agh, snap out of it Gar! Now's not the time... Her eyes open, revealing her baby blue eyes.

 

"What are you gawking at?" She quickly snaps, as she notices me looking at her.

 

"Oh right... Sorry." I say sheepishly, before taking a step back.

 

"Whatever. Who are you, and where am I? Last I remember was getting poked and prodded with needles." She says bluntly, while looking quite confused. Makes sense, all things considered.

 

"I'm uh -- Changeling.. Yeah, that's me. My friends call me Gar. As for where we are, some old mining warehouse, now being occupied by criminals that were trying to sell you as a weapon for A Murder of Crows. Now's not really the time to talk about this though, as they'll notice us at any minute, and once that happens, say bye-bye to any hope of getting out of this alive." I say, with a slight pause before saying my name. My mother used to tell me stories about the Changeling, mostly to get me to eat my vegetables, so that's what I first thought of in the moment. May have to make it a permanent thing, as a way to move past Beast Boy, member of the Doom Patrol.

 

"Not if I have anything to say about it." She emerges from the pod, and onto the ground in front of me. Her hand starts to glow yellow, and rocks start rising from the ground.

 

"Okay, rockhead, so, do you have a name? Cause I don't really want to keep calling you rockhead." I ask, turning around to see the crows walking towards me and the girl.

 

"The names Terra. You should be more worried for them than me though, as they're in for a world of hurt." She smirks, before she hops on a rock, and starts flying towards them. Uh oh, this could get a little rocky. Too soon? Yeah, too soon.

  

-------------------

So here we are! Issue #1 of Beast Boy. Huge Thanks to Jose for the build, along with the figures. Thanks to everyone else that gave me ideas for the issue as well, couldn't of done it without you.

DC Figs 196

 

From L-R: Killer Croc (Batman: The Animated Series), Amazo (Justice League Unlimited), The Cluemaster (Classic), The Dark Archer (DC Rebirth), Geomancer II, Jinx (The New 52: Updated), Savitar (The Flash), Alex Luthor (Tales from the Dark Multiverse: Infinite Crisis), & Bruno (Batman: The Dark Knight Returns Part 2)

 

Design Inspirations Below:

 

Killer Croc (Batman: The Animated Series) - (static.wikia.nocookie.net/batmantheanimatedseries/images/...)

 

Amazo (Justice League Unlimited) - (static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/5/5f/Amazo_DCA...)

 

The Cluemaster (Classic) - (static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/0/0b/Cluemaste...)

 

The Dark Archer (DC Rebirth) - (static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/6/6f/Malcolm_M...)

 

Geomancer II - (static.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/a/ae/Geomancer...)

 

Jinx (The New 52) - (comicvine.gamespot.com/a/uploads/scale_medium/6/62795/572...)

 

Savitar (The Flash) - (townsquare.media/site/442/files/2017/05/flash-savitar-ide...)

 

Alex Luthor (Tales from the Dark Multiverse: Infinite Crisis) - (64.media.tumblr.com/8625eff66e59a8fc331ed690ad844b48/6532...)

 

Bruno (Batman: The Dark Knight Returns Part 2) - (static.wikia.nocookie.net/xianb/images/7/7c/2905554-bruno...)

 

Comment & fave to let me know what you all think

====Washington DC====

 

"And his name?"

 

Drury- Ra's. Ra's Al Ghul. Leads an army of ninjas... The genocidal kind, you see. You... You never met him, did you? When you were-

 

Norbert- No. Met another. Years ago. His teacher. The Sensei.

 

*They called him The Killer Wasp. The enforcer for the Injustice League, and later Danto Twag, Norbert Walker was taken from his home when he was a boy by it's leader, The Thinker, and subjected to a series of horrifying experiments by his Think Tank of mad scientists. Their tests triggered his metagene, and he developed a thick, black hide, and a pair of bug-like wings. By the time he'd been freed of his programming, he'd already caused so much pain, and surrendered to ARGUS agents with little fight. He sought redemption for his past, first on the front lines as a member of Task Force X, then behind a desk campaigning for metahuman rights. But he never forgot what he was made to do. His nightmares wouldn't let him.*

 

-Protestors in and around Central Gotham continue to grow. The biggest of these movements, calling themselves The Arkham City Liberators are believed to be led by notorious anarchist Lonnie Machin. Known as Anarky, Machin has spent much of his adolescence protesting against government officials, and the people he claims do the city the most harm. Ex-Mayor Drury Walker has found himself in his crosshairs on a number of occasions, including an incident on Santa Prisca involving the Batman, and a legion of his earliest foes. Detained by the FBI, Machin was tried as an adult, and sentenced to five years under intense care at Blackgate Prison-

 

*A black, leathery hand turns the dial on the radio at this, switching to another channel. Click. He turns back to his guest*

 

Norbert- Popular.

 

Drury- Yeah... Heh, I suppose I am

 

*Drury doesn't look up from his tea*

 

-Last night, a homeless person, forced out of the Narrows, handed in a trained crow to the Gotham Globe. The bird had an envelope tied to it's leg, containing a letter that read-

 

*Click*

 

- "Tomorrow, at 12, you are invited to the trial of Eric Needham, at the Solomon Wayne Courthouse. For a place on the jury, call-"

 

*Click*

 

-But what does the letter mean? Needham, aka Black Spider, was a ruthless vigilante, who targeted the East End drug trade with extreme prejudice. He was sent to Arkham City six months ago, after he was caught in a sting operation orchestrated by the Arkham Strike Force-

 

*Click*

 

- Oswald Cobblepot? Roman Sionis? These are legitimate businessmen, not hardened killers. I want the senate to know that while their president is golfing, we are here, facing a financial crisis unlike-

 

*Click*

 

-Recent reports suggest Machin's movement has reached as far as the capital. Congress has been debating the ethics of Arkham City for some time, but both the President, and Senator Eilling remain firm in their belief in the Supermax facility, and in their recent decision to tighten security, including replacing the mercenaries stationed in Arkham with a new batch of government agents. There's been no update on whether the government intends to release the minor offenders, and ex-criminals, to a safer location.

 

-Our reporter on the front, Angie Molina, interviewed the protesters outside City Hall earlier today. This is what they had to say.

 

*Norbert pauses. The only other noise aside from the radio comes from Drury sipping his tea.

The first protester exclaims angrily "You ain't trying to save us! You put the damn Kite-Man behind bars- the fuck was he gonna do?" A larger group chants in unison behind him, "Shut Arkham City down! Shut it down!" A second protester grabs the microphone from Molina's hand, and spits into it. "Down with the corrupt pigs in power! We don't want your prisons, we want your help!" The reporter's cries of protest as she tries to take the microphone back is masked by the protester's loud rant "Tell your corporate masters this, reporter, we will not stand idle while people are locked away and forgotten. Mental health in Gotham used to be something that we tried to treat- now you're letting the leash go, and letting them all kill each other in some... some battle royale!" Another protester mumbles, confused "Wasn't this about the folks that lost their home?" "What?" Another cries "We were arguing that putting all those criminals together was a recipe for disaster, not that sappy mental health stuff, and not your homeless gunk." "Well, you would think that, wouldn't you Terry-" is the response he gets. "Relax, I'm just saying Zach. The pigs think they're doing us a favour by throwing them in there, but they ain't. They're just forcing the supes to depend on one another, and that ain't exactly comforting, y'know, them all working together."

"It's... about a lot of things. It's a story of corruption. A story of greed. And it all stems from City Hall! At least Walker cared about us. He was *one* of us. He cared about the average joe, because he had seen the City first hand. What has Grange done, except cage up the whackjobs?" The protester, Terry, retorts "Oh yeah, Walker was fine! Until he killed that broad?"

The other, Zach, yells back, as GCN's signature jingle plays "That wasn't him you-" And, at that, Norbert switched the radio off*

 

Norbert- They're right. Wasn't you.

 

*Drury rests his tea on the table, atop a stack of records. Realising his mistake, he instead places it on the floor. "It wasn't you either," he responds, suddenly realising he's only gone and kicked the cup over. Norbert reaches down with a damp cloth, and mops it up*

 

Norbert- Sure.

 

*He rises to his feet, and, cloth in one hand, Norbert picks up a record from the stack, wringing the tea soaked cloth into the sink, he turns the record player on. He keeps his back turned from Drury while it plays, and he listens*

 

Drury- Norbert, all that... All that shit you did, that was something else, it was all programming, and masterminds, and the like. But this, what I'm asking you to do? You've heard what's going out there, on your own doorstep. It's chaos! And beyond the politics, beyond programming, it's me doing right by you. Giving you the chance to be better. The chance *they* never gave you. I don't know.... I'm not the Injustice Society, I'm not Twag, and I'm not Amanda Waller, I'm your brother, and I'm going to give you a choice, because that's what you deserve.

 

*Norbert closes his eyes, as the music plays. He wasn't allowed anything of his own under the Injustice Society. He was robbed of a childhood. All his life, he was made to listen to others, it was something he had grown used to. In many ways, listening was all he had*

 

Drury- I had a choice. I chose to rob. I chose to kill. That's still who I am. I chose to be like my piece of crap, wife-beating dad, but you didn't! They took that option away from you.

 

Norbert- No. I've done bad things. To you. To your family.

 

Drury- *We're* family Norbert. Me and you. It's been thirty years in the making, but how about we give it another go?

 

====The Iceberg Lounge====

 

Penguin- You made it, thank god. When I didn't hear from my people, I was concerned that-

 

*The assassin throws a series of darts at the wall while he speaks, each one making it's mark. "Your concern is touching. But unwanted. Your people got in the way of things, I evaded them- and that is all there is to it. ... It's unlike you to meet me alone. Or, anyone for that matter"

 

Penguin- Well, my bodyguards are indisposed, and you, by now, know what happened to the Zebra?

 

"Yes, I saw the corpse. Two shots to the head."

 

Penguin- Dent, or Two-Face, whoever was behind the wheel- It was them.

 

"How astute of you."

 

Penguin- Why, I mean-! Defending Needham if you can believe it!

 

"Strangely enough I do. I could kill *him* too, if that would help. Though, of course, it would cost you more"

 

Penguin- I would expect nothing less. If Spider testifies-

 

*"He won't." the assassin interjects*

 

Penguin- If he does, Arkham will become another warzone. We'll be back where we started, and this time, I'll be the one in all their crosshairs.

 

"Whether you like it or not, that warzone? It's inevitable. But, fortunately for you, you have me.

Now, I've read your paperwork. Studied Needham's fighting style, and monitored his defence, and I've reached my conclusions."

 

*The assassin rises from his seat, and runs his fingers across the crate of weapons before him. "You should have saved yourself the hassle, and sent for me from the start. You wouldn't have lost the serial killer, the zebra or... the arachnid. For someone so orderly, you've been terribly careless"

 

Penguin- Perhaps. But I had faith in Zebra, misplaced though it was, that he would succeed. And, after all, I wouldn't have wanted you wasting your time.

 

Zeiss- I'm afraid, Mr Cobblepot, it's far too late for that. That damage, has been done

Alter Ego: Meta-Hound

Name: Brooke Kimberly

Allegiance: Neutral

Powers:

* Power Nullifying

* Can detect Metas and determine their abilities through smell from miles away

Weapons:

* Vector SMG

Key Weakness: She can only nullify Powers by striking her victims with an object. This is why she uses a machine gun so when her first bullet hits it nullifies the powers of the individual causing them to then be vulnerable to the rest of her clip.

 

Origin:

Brooke was a normal girl who unfortunately suffered a tragedy that is spoken of in hushed tones throughout Avalon City because of it being a dark moment in the cities history. A psychotic Metahuman called “Jigsaw” murdered her family before her eyes and left her as a sort of trophy to tell the story. By the time the police arrived Brooke’s mind was already gone she was lost in a dark place that no amount of therapy or counselling could fix. She never said a word for years after these events, determined not to speak of the psychopaths act like he intended. But when she did, it was the beginning of her new life, her life as a warrior of vengeance. One that would do what the heroes couldn’t, kill. She’d track the actions of Jigsaw and end him, then when she did she would join her family. Until that time she would kill the villains that threaten the lives of others and kill anyone that got in the way of her mission, including heroes.

Alter Ego: Shark-Smoke

Name: Todd Leonard

Allegiance: Villain

Powers:

* Super strength, durability and stamina

* Super scream attack that can smash into objects when directed

* Phasing

* Telepathic communication

Weapons:

* Heavy spiked armour

* Sharp teeth

Key Weakness: He cannot phase when in liquids.

 

Origin:

Todd was once an average looking teenager until his powers kicked in and overnight he was turned into a monster, unfortunately these cases happen in Metahumans. When he went to his parents they were horrified and didn't believe it was him, so much so they accused him of kidnapping their son. Due to his speech being destroyed by his powers he couldn't explain and fled his house and family. Later, he was taken in off the street by members of T.O.X.I.N. Who trained him to use his abilities and how to strengthen and hone his telepathathy. After some time he saw T.O.X.I.N. as his new family and occasionally works jobs for them.

Eobard Thawne - Born in the 25th century an era where technological advances made the want for metahuman abilities nearly redundant, Eobard Thawne idolized the time in which powers were at the forefront of human evolution. Thawne had a passion for history in the realm of metahuman abilities, especially towards one man specifically, the Flash. His passion quickly turned to obsession as he became the head curator at the world famous Flash Museum. While working at the museum, Eobard obsessively read through all material on the Flash and began to fantasize about being celebrated like him. Eobard made his crazed fantasy a reality when he managed to recreate the accident that gave Barry Allen his powers.

 

Using his newfound powers and a stolen suit from the Flash Museum, Eobard made his way back to the 21st century in an attempt to befriend his hero. At first, Barry was accepting of Eobard because he saw him as another person who was given powers due to a massive storm across the Gem Cities. However, after Eobard became jealous of the fact that Barry’s attention was split between so many people in his life, Eobard began to plot against those who Barry held dear. Starting with killing Barry’s girlfriend Iris and her nephew Wally, Eobard became a vengeful killer in Barry’s life. After killing two of Barry’s closest acquaintances, Eobard realized that he could do much more damage to the life of a man who wouldn’t accept him as a friend.

 

So with sadistic jealousy and rage clouding his judgement, Eobard time traveled back further in time to the point when Barry was only nine years old to murder his parents. Unbeknownst to Thawne, his frequent time traveling made him a target of the reapers of the Speed Force. Because of this, Eobard was only successful in killing Barry’s mother before Black Flash pulled him into the Speed Force to stop him from further tampering with the timeline. However, the effects of what Thawne did were irreversible and would cause ripple effects throughout Barry Allen’s life.

 

Eobard was able to escape the clutches of Black Flash and laid low in Central City for years as he planned his next attack on Barry Allen. While laying low, Eobard assumed the identity of a Central City University professor named Harrison Wells. Under the alias of Professor Wells, Eobard became one of the founders of Star Labs as an attempt to gain the trust of the public eye.

 

After the Barry of this timeline was given Speed Force abilities, Thawne made himself known by kidnapping Iris West once again. This time however, Barry was able to stop Thawne from killing his girlfriend. In doing so, Barry helped create a new wing of Iron Heights that would be the home to many metahuman criminals. Unfortunately however secure the power dampening restraints seemed to be, Thawne always found ways to repeatedly break out and again cause mayhem in Allen’s life. Unlike most of the Flash’s Rogues who commit crimes for their own gain, Thawne has made it clear that his only goal is to make Barry Allen’s life a living hell.

Belle Reve penitentiary, a beautiful dream in-name only: Not the only prison for metahuman criminals, but certainly the one with the most powerful prisoners. The white collars go to Stryker’s Island, the blue collars to Blackgate, the crazies to Arkham, and the super-powered to Belle-Reve.

 

A helicopter lands. Director Amanda Waller exits with George ‘Digger’ Harkness in tow. They head towards the main entrance door and make their way inside.

 

It’s raining.

 

Digger: So, Waller, me ole Sheila, of all the stick-throwin, bank-robbin’ Layabouts out there in the world, why’d ye come crawlin’ back to me, eh? Finally realize I’m the best there is at what I do?

 

Waller: What you do, Harkness, is exactly that. You throw sticks. Somehow though those sticks keep you alive. Either that or plain stupid luck.

 

Digger: Little of this, little of that.

 

Waller: But no. I came back to you because, and savor this moment, Boomerbutt, because I’ll never say this again, time and time again you’ve come through. Despite the fact you throw sticks at a man who runs faster than the speed of sound, you’ve proven yourself to be a reliable asset, and that’s what I need. Reliable.

 

Digger: Aw, ‘Manda. Y’makin’ me blush.

 

Waller: Don’t feel too proud, you’re not the only operative who’s getting star-billing. I’m putting my trust in them, and I’m putting my trust in you, Digger. That’s a rare occurrence. Do not let me down.

 

Digger, lighting up a cigarette: And what if I do eh?

 

Waller, taking it from him and putting it out: I’ll shoot you myself. Also there’s no smoking in this facility.

 

Digger: Very well. So who else is getting’ star treatment?

 

Waller escorts Digger through nearby door marked, appropriately, DIRECTOR WALLER. Inside is King Faraday and Floyd Lawton, discussing the mechanics of Faraday’s standard-issue sidearm that he’s had custom-plated with gold crowns. They’re both smoking.

 

Floyd: Hm. Hello, Digger.

 

Digger: Now ‘old on! How come they get to smoke?

 

Waller, offhandedly: They’ve earned the privilege.

 

Digger: And why haven’t I?

 

Floyd: Because you’re obnoxious about it.

 

Floyd stands up, and Digger approaches him.

 

Digger: Now Floyd ole boy, I may’ve been hit in the bean durin’ that whole Society barney, but I still remember we developed a bit o’ bad blood ‘tween us. That still the case?

 

Floyd: I can keep it civil if you can. This is business, so was that. Business where I got to shoot Merlyn four times. It’s behind us. I think we can agree on that.

 

Digger: Aye mate, that we can.

 

They shake hands.

 

Waller, kind of snidely: Good, now that you’re friends, let me lay out the law here. You two, along with a select few others, are, god help me, going to lead this new Squad. I’ve chosen you two because, in Floyd’s case, he has an excellent track record, and has proven capable in the field time and time again. I’ve chosen you, Digger, because I’m out of options. I need operatives I can trust. Katana’s defected, and gone to run with some new team Batman’s stitched together. Flag is otherwise occupied, Croc was never in the running, and Enchantress is right where I’m leaving her.

 

Digger: I thought Enchantress was sucked into some sorta hell dimension and died.

 

Waller: You’re half right, but also half not. She’s not our concern right now.

 

Floyd: I almost hate to ask this, but what about Quinn.

 

Waller: I’ll admit, her I considered, but she’s proven hard to track down. Now, what I need this Squad to rely on, is secrecy. More so than ever, we are off the books. In fact, most of the upper-branches of our own government don’t know we’re operational. Our entire existence is on a need-to-know basis, and that’s how it’s going to stay.

 

*she picks up a remote, hits a button, and the nearby wall slides up to reveal a window overlooking a wide hangar. A seemingly-unconscious T. Rex lays strapped to a giant gurney. Four figures walk away from the Rex and towards a stairwell leading up to the control room Waller and co. are in*

 

Waller: As far as the world is concerned, those four people coming up the stairs to meet us, for all intents and purposes ARE the Suicide Squad.

 

The four enter. It is of course, Colonel Rick Flag, followed by Doctors Karin Grace, Jess Bright and Hugh Evans. There is polite acknowledgement all around. Flag shakes Faraday’s hand, and nods to Floyd. He doesn’t look at Digger. Digger whistles softly in Karin’s direction.

 

Digger: Hel-lo, Doc.

 

Karin shoots him a dirty look.

 

Flag: Aman- ahem. Director Waller. When you have the time, I want to have a word with you about the way this operation is being planned and run. It seems to me like there’s a lot of dead weight, and most of what my team and I do are unnecessa-

 

Waller: Flag, not now. You know your duty, you know your assignments, and you know how I operate. This isn’t up for debate. *She turns to Digger and Floyd* Flag and company here are, essentially, a diversion. A tactic to throw attention off of your operations. Task Force X here, handles what the government deems ‘extranormal threats’ when there’s no heroes around to take care of it themselves. They’ll go around, guns-a-blazing and slaying monsters, soaking up the press attention. To the outside world they are The Suicide Squad, and you don’t exist. Every mission you undertake, they’ll be there to put on a show above you.

 

Digger: So they’re the fireworks at a picnic and we’re –

 

Floyd, extinguishing his fourteenth smoke of the day: Ants making away with crumbs.

 

Waller: If that’s how you want to look at it, yes. Colonel, you and your team are dismissed.

 

Flag salutes, and leads Task Force X out of the room and down the stairs.

 

Digger: Balls o’ brass, that one.

 

Floyd: He’s cheerful these days, ain’t he.

 

Waller: I think he’s slowly starting to realize his entire career has been one long stage production. Now you two, there’s empty bunks in the guards’ quarters. Murph downstairs will be happy to show you the way. If you’ll excuse me, I have another operative to check up on.

 

====Iron Heights Penitentiary===

 

The door opened with a rusty creak.

 

"Mr Kenyon?" Clark asked. Kenyon's eyes shifted to the "S" on his chest. "Hey! I know you! Hawkman, right?"

 

Wolfe growled, his orange eyes staring into the prisoner's soul as he led the Leaguers into the cell. "Don't let his shiny exterior fool you, gentlemen, his heart's as black as the rest of them."

 

"Noted," Flash murmured.

 

"He's yours for ten minutes, after that he's going back to The Pipeline with the other filth." Flash and Superman exchanged concerned looks. It was talk like that which built Arkham City. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the Warden was a fan of the Court's methods.

 

"We'll take it from here," Clark nodded, as he and Barry sat down. Wolfe stepped out the door, calling back to them "Ten minutes! And the cuffs stay on!"

 

"Fine by me... Daddy likes the metal," the inmate smirked, the dim lighting reflecting off his metallic skin. He was laughing, but Clark could see his heartbeat, and it was racing. Nervously.

 

Barry begins. "Keith Kenyon; Formerly, a Coast City engineer turned petty crook turned Keystone's union commissioner. And, currently, a B-List, Gold-Faced nobody."

 

Kenyon grinned a golden smile. "I don't think much of your pillow talk, Flash."

 

"Last night, the Flash Museum was attacked, burned to the ground, the latest in a long line of power plays by your Society. Starting last year, Gorilla Grodd retook Gorilla City, Sinestro stormed Oa, Felix Faust infiltrated the Themyscira Embassy, Ocean Master raided the Atlantis Treasure room, Black Adam struck the WHIZ Radio studio. And, some of our... personal quarters were similarly defaced.

Nothing was stolen, nobody hurt. But, just like the rest of them, the JLA teleporter had been tampered with, certain files erased.

 

"Boy, I don't even know what half those words are supposed to mean. I just go where they tell me to."

 

"... Keith, we know you were caught leaving the scene. We know Bane gave you an ultimatum.

We want to help you- we know he threatened you, maybe threatened your family. But right now, you're our best shot at putting a stop to him."

 

Goldface paused. "I love this city, y'know? I didn't want to hurt nobody, not here. Fact is, I came to Keystone for a fresh start, I built this Union from the ground up. But when Bane approached me with his glowing, bearded lapdog... I couldn't say no. Old habits, I guess... You want Bane? You want Zod? I can tell you where they're going next. But you need to do one thing for me."

 

Clark turned to Barry, and nodded. "Of course," he replies, sitting down. Kenyon looks at the cell door warily, then grasps Clark's cape. "Don't let them send me back to the Pipeline."

 

=====The Watchtower=====

 

Bruce sits down in the canteen, on his tray is a single apple and a glass of water. Dinah sits beside him, a plate of mashed potatoes on hers.

"Well, this *is* a rare sight, I always thought Alfred left you sandwiches for lunch."

 

"Normally. But Selina has... insisted I "be more sociable." She's got it into her head you've arranged some kind of double date with her and I. Mash looks a little dry," he adds.

 

"It's filling," she replies, still staring at the apple on his tray. "Cafeteria food was never my forte," Bruce explains. "Star City treating you well? Queen?"

 

"Oh, on occasion. Nothing quite like Gotham though," she smiles

 

"Agreed," he murmurs, sipping his water.

 

"Bruce, I have to ask. Just *how* is the mayoral race coming along?

 

"Slowly. Considering that the last five mayors, deputy mayors and mayoral candidates have been either killed, maimed or imprisoned, there's not exactly lines going around the block. Only person who's actually shown any interest is Cobbl-"

 

"Oh, so like DADA!" Firestorm pipes up from behind them.

 

...

 

"Like... Mr Nobody-?"

 

"Who-? No, Defense Against the Dark Arts. ... Harry Potter? The post's cursed by Voldemort, so each teacher only lasts a year."

 

"Are you suggesting that *Voldemort* cursed City Hall?" Bruce glares.

 

"Well, not Voldemort, obviously. Wotan, or Klarion, or someone..." Ronnie mutters, as he swirls his fork through his mash. "Yes, I know, Prof, stop talking."

 

J'onn's voice rings in Bruce's head. He and Dinah nod, and put their trays away. "All senior Leaguers please report to the main conference room." Firestorm looks at them exit, then taking a slurp of chocolate milk mutters "Saved by the bell."

 

======The Conference Room=====

 

"The Society. Aka The Secret Society. Aka The Supervillain Society. Aka... The Legion of Doom," Bruce begins, glaring at Hal, clearly pleased with the nickname.

"Since their crime spree two years ago, culminating with their chemical attack on Gotham, activity has been relatively quiet, more focused on rebuilding their organisation than anything else. Recently, that has all changed. Starting with a raid on Gorilla City, and escalating into bolder and brasher attacks, we now have one of their members, Keith Kenyon, "Goldface," in custody. Clark."

 

"Thank you, Bruce. Barry and I visited Kenyon in Iron Heights this morning. He told us their next target was Nanda Parbat, located here- in the Hindu Kush valley. It's monasteries have birthed and trained several of our finest heroes but now it has become headquarters to Ra's Al Ghul and his League of Assassins."

 

"As you should know, Ra's Al Ghul is the ringleader of the Arkham City attack, who, working with the Court of Owls unleashed a devestating earthquake which levelled the supermax facility and killed and crippled hundreds of people, many of whom were wrongfully convicted. We also suspect Ra's to have sent Deathstroke to eliminate Mayor Marion Grange, who's testimony has proved invaluable in tracking down and imprisoning the few Owls that remain at large, after these men: Joseph Rigger and Garfield Lynns, killed an estimated 47 members under Riddler's manipulations," Bruce concludes, before taking his seat.

 

"I'm not sure I understand," J'onn begins, taking a bite out of a Choco. "Up to this point, each attack has been strategic, personal. The leaders of each assault all carried a personal grudge against a different member of the League. What would they possibly achieve by attacking Nanda Parbat?"

 

Diana turns to face Batman. "Bruce, you trained there didn't you? Perhaps-"

 

He shakes his head. "No. No, if they were to send me a message, they'd go for the Batcave, Wayne Tower even. This isn't about the teleporters. No... Bane recruited dozens of new members when they rescued the Arkham Inmates. Perhaps, this time, their grudge is with their captors, not with us."

 

"And, what of Riddler? Is he part of this Society?" Arthur queries.

 

"I doubt it. Nygma seemed almost offended when we asked. I mean, if Bane wanted the Owls out of the way, he had the power to do it without relying on me or Lynns. Could be this is another faction. After the Society's initial defeat, it's entirely possible they split off into rival groups. I can't see Luthor handing the reigns over to Bane willingly."

 

Clark nodded in agreement. "Lex hasn't been seen in over a year... Last I heard, he'd turned over a bakery, stole forty cakes."

 

"That's terrible!" Ollie smirked, his laughter silenced by a kick in the shin, and a glare from Dinah.

 

Bruce turns on the projector. "ARGUS intelligence suggests he served time on the Suicide Squad. Briefly, before escaping."

 

"Now that *does* sound like Lex," Clark murmurs.

 

"It's a hell of an opportunity. Goldface made it seem like his whole crew were heading there," Barry comments, bringing them back on topic.

 

"We need to think this through. Nanda Parbat is the heart of League territory. Interfering there may cause an international incident," Diana warns.

 

"With who? The terrorists?" Arrow quips skeptically.

 

"Frankly I'm just surprised the president hasn't blown it into Kingdom Come," Hal mutters.

 

...

 

"I said surprised, not disappointed," he adds.

 

"If The Seven Heads of the Society will be there. We have to take that risk," Clark replies.

 

"Eight. You're forgetting Kuttler," Bruce replies sternly.

 

"Their accountant-? Gee, how could we forget..." Ollie adds snarkily.

 

Bruce glares at him. "An accountant with the addresses and contact information of every single supervillain on the planet, from Lex Luthor to Big Sir."

 

Hal snorts, before asking, confused. "Big Sir-?"

 

"Ask Barry," Bruce replies.

 

"No, I- You should, uh, probably ask Wally," Barry mutters sheepishly.

 

====The Training Room====

 

"Hey Wally," Hal waves cheerily.

 

"Hal," Wally replies, mid fight with a reprogrammed Amazo android.

 

Lantern taps his fingers against the water cooler before finally, his curiosity gets the better of him. "Big Sir! What's a Big Sir?"

 

Finishing the robot with a punch, Wally takes his mask off, and empties the once-full cooler to quench his thirst. "Barry put you up to this... Look, Big Sir is an, well, idiot. Like if Grundy were, well not alive, but... He's part of the Injustice League, alright? This C-List group of nobodies... and we kinda, sorta went to Night School together."

 

"You're kidding, right?"

 

Wally sighs. "Nope, sometimes I have this dream, that I'm back there again, hell, I even end up vibrating right through the bed, in fear. Every time without fail. Drives Linda mad."

 

"Why, what did they do?" Hal asks, even more intrigued, and a little bit worried.

 

"Absolutely nothing. It was the teacher, really. Don't worry about the Injustice League, Hal. Last I heard, they were knee high in community service."

 

***

 

"We finished community service!" Disaster yells, punching the air triumphantly.

 

"Big Sir proud of you, Major. Big kisses from Big Sir."

 

Disaster avoids him narrowly, speaking to the camera crew. "You know, *sniff* this is the first certificate I've ever owned."

 

"Aw, Major, Big Sir wipe your eyes..."

 

"Don't touch me," he snaps sternly, as they walk down the road, before coming to an awaiting car. "Did you call us that cab?" Booker asks his partner.

"No, Major. Big Sir knows not to call anyone. Major was very clear when-"

 

"When you called the cops on us, right, right," Disaster replies, as the two step inside, Sir's weight immediately causing it to buckle.

 

"Gentlemen! Oh, how I've missed you!" the charred, orange clad driver exclaims gleefully.

 

Disaster's eyes light up, finally he's hit the big leagues! "Two-Face, it's been a- Artie-? What happened to your face?"

 

"Let's not dwell on it..." Cluemaster mutters bashfully, turning back to the wheel. "Are those camera guys coming with us, because I don't think I have enough room. Maj?"

 

"But, it... Well, I mean... It looks like an anus."

 

"Maj!"

 

"Well it does," he murmurs under his breath. "You're still with the Society aren't you? You'll put in a good word, won't you?"

 

Artie groans. "Not exactly... Bane, uh, kinda thinks I'm dead."

 

"Well, you *do* look it."

 

"And because... well, he tried to kill me."

 

"Ah."

 

"Bane was very good to Big Sir. Gave him lots of trinkets," Big Sir adds proudly.

 

"Yes, I'm sure-," Disaster yells sarcastically before realisation dawns on his face. "Stop the car."

 

=======The Hall of Doom=====

 

"Noah, are you still with us?" Bane asked impatiently. This was the eve of their final offensive. The Bat, The Justice League, The League of Assassins... Soon it would all come tumbling down, and in their place- a new world order, a new Society.

 

"One moment please, Bane." Calculator replied, raising his phone to his ear. "Hello?"

 

"Big Sir tells me you invited him into the Society! Big Sir!" a high pitched whine echoed on the other end.

 

"They were very nice to Big Sir. Like mommy," a second, deeper, slower voice declared.

 

...

  

"They... What-?" the first voice stuttered.

 

Kuttler sighed. This was the fourth call like this he'd gotten this week, each from similarly minded C-Listers. "This is Disaster, I take it?"

 

"Big Sir for god's sake!" Disaster screamed.

 

"Look, what can I say, we needed the muscle," Kuttler smiled to himself.

 

"Noah, for god's sake. I am a class five Metahuman! Class Five! Or One... Which one is the really high one again?"

 

"Five."

 

"I can create earthquakes *Noah*! But you'd sooner invite Puzzler and Brain Drain over there?!"

 

"Hey!" a third, familiar voice yelled in protest.

 

"In our defense, we did *try* to kill Arthur. The man was a persistent liability who forced himself on us. Like hemorrhoids, I suppose."

 

...

 

"Major, you still on the line? I'm really busy, and-"

 

He'd calmed down now, but with his constant sniffling it almost sounded like he'd been sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I just... Was I the only one you didn't send an invite to?"

 

"Oh, heavens no."

 

"Oh thank god."

 

"There was Bat-Head, Bull's Eye, King of Cats, Javelin... I think Javelin's dead right now, but who can keep up with him... Egg Fu- politically charged, I'm afraid, Codpiece, Ah, Crimson Centipede, Crimson Knight, Scimitar, Suit, Preying Mantis, Prankster... Nope, I'm telling a lie, we *did* recruit Preying Mantis... Who was I-? Ah, Grasshopper... Who else? Oh, Bootface..."

 

As Kuttler's list continues, Disaster's face crumples. Hanging up, he turns back to Cluemaster.

 

"So that was a no, was it?"

 

"A very polite one, but yes."

 

=====The Batcave=====

 

"Bruce! Bruce!"

 

Drury runs down the stairs, tripping over his feet as he does so. Behind him, Alfred runs after him,

begging him to slow down, before he gets himself killed. "Master Drury, please-"

Undeterred, Drury jumps to the bottom of the stairs, gazing in wonder at the cave in all its glory. "Bruce! Bruce- You... You do have a giant dinosaur."

"Walker," Bruce replies, only just returned from his meeting, he sits at the batcomputer, dressed in a light brown Batsuit.

 

"It's true isn't it. You're leaving. You're finally going there."

 

Bruce nods. "Yes. The Society bombed the Flash Museum last night. The only thing left standing, the Flash statue on the grounds outside was defaced. Their message was clear. No more false idols. We recovered one of their agents fleeing the scene, B-Lister named Goldface.

Told us that they were enroute to Nanda Parbat. The League's hoping to intercept them, but we have to move fast."

 

"The Society-?" Drury pauses. "But... you're going to stop Ra's too, right? You are, aren't you? That's what you do."

 

Batman bows his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Drury. There's more at stake than you know. Ra's can plead diplomatic immunity. Just us being there could spark a war we are not equipped for. The only people who know about his involvement in Arkham City are my people, The League, Bane, and you. And frankly, that's not enough to build a case."

 

"But-"

 

"As far as the world knows, Arkham City was orchestrated by Hugo Strange and a hoard of corrupt politicians. Many refuse to even acknowledge a Court of Owls."

 

That was it. Drury spent four months in a maze to get to this moment, he wallowed in depression and watched countless people die in front of him, and this was how he was rewarded? "Ra's killed my wife! He abducted Norbert! And what, when you're done with Bane, you're just going to leave?" he yells indignantly.

 

"Yes, dammit. Maybe Bane will tell the courts what he knows. Maybe we can return there, and bring Ra's to justice. And maybe... Maybe we can't."

 

"You... You're serious... You..." Drury slammed his hand on the batcomputer console. "You're supposed to be the hero," he hissed, storming out of the cave. Bruce reaches out for a moment, before resting his arm by his side. Defeated.

  

Alter Ego: Cheerleader

Name: Cheryl Chambers

Allegiance: Villain

Powers:

* Mind Control - through cheering

Weapons: None

Key Weakness: If knocked out then she loses control of her victims.

 

Origin:

Cheryl is a popular classic "mean girl" at her college, she is head cheerleader and goes unnoticed as a Metahuman. At football game rallies she takes control of the crowd, both teams and her fellow cheerleaders. When the masses are under her control they commit crimes and will often dance like cheerleaders under her control. They even voice what Cheryl says in unison with her, making it hard to determine if she is part of the crowd or not. Cheryl has yet to be seen as a suspect due to her getting a civilian to admit to the brainwashing of the crowd. Cheryl calls herself Cheerleader and often robs banks and causes anarchy for the fun of it. The most people she has had under her control at once is over 500.

Or as they're more often referred to as, the suicide squad. At this point, I've pretty much ran out of characters that actually appear, so from here on out, it's pretty much just world building. I may even add a story at some point. Also, this is gonna be really long. Should'a done it in two parts, but too late now. We'll go from left to right.

 

Livewire

Formally a radio host named Leslie Willis, Livewire always had a hatred of the so called 'superhero'. It was during a freak storm that she was struck by lightning, and gained her new powers. Seeing this as an opportunity to take out her anger, she set upon a course to destroy the image of the nations heroes, focussing on Superman, one of the oldest American heroes. Of course, Superman was able to defeat her and she was dragged kicking and screaming to Belle Reve prison for metahumans.

 

So, for many years, she went in circles of freedom and imprisonment. Until one fateful day, Darkseid invaded Earth. This did not affect the residents of Belle Reve, as the prison was a subterrainian structure, completely isolated from the world. It was only after the Millennium war that things started going wrong. Eventually, news spread that Superman had proclaimed leadership over the Earth, ultimately proving Livewire right. As she so often claimed, she knew that the so called 'superheroes' only wanted one thing: power.

 

It was in 2006 when she, along with other inmates, were approached by the warden, one Amanda Waller. She offered the inmates a chance. A chance for freedom. They had only one task: Kill Superman. This was it. The chance Livewire had been waiting for. Screw the reward, she had spent her whole life building up to this.

 

Captain cold:

Leonard Snart had always been a criminal. From stealing cars in his teens, to robbing banks in his forties. For years, he'd had beef with the Flash. From the original, to his replacement. It was quite nice really. He was pretty much a celebrity in the criminal underworld. But, one can only run for so long. inevitably, he was caught and sent to prison, Iron heights penitentiary.

 

He was a quiet prisoner, who, despite his 'celebrity' status, stayed relatively quiet. Until the millennial war. The prison was wrecked, almost destroyed by Darkseid forces. Seeing his opportunity, Snart fled, only to be recaptured days later, by, you guessed it, the Flash. But with Iron heights in ruins, where was he to be sent? Belle Reve.

 

And so, for 5 years, Snart continued his sentence. Until He was approached by the warden, who offered him a choice. Freedom for a job. She said that his skills were needed to pull off this job, so he was needed. The job? Kill Superman.

 

Harley Quinn:

Formerly a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, Dr Quinzel was driven mad. Partly by her work environment, and the nut-jobs and whacko's she worked with, but mostly by her love for the Joker. Helping him escape, she went on to live a life of crime by her lovers side.

 

During the Millennium war, she did what most non-powered villains did. Hide. In one of her brief moments of sanity, she was able to convince the Joker that they would do best to hide, after all, who would torment the Bat if her puddin' was dead?

 

It was only after the murder of Jason Todd, the second Robin in 2004, that Harley was captured and imprisoned for murder, ironically, in Arkham. At least, that was what she was told. She was actually sent to Belle Reve, as part of a secret project.

 

There, she was approached by the warden, promising her freedom, and her life, in exchange for a favour. Kill Superman.

 

Scarecrow:

Joanna Crane had always had a...fascination with fear. It all came to fruition when she gained a PhD in chemistry, and an MD in psychology. Naturally, she was drawn to Arkham asylum, where she took her fascinations to the next level: experimentation on the inmates. For years she took great joy in testing her fear gasses on patients in her care, seeing what made them tick. Eventually however, she grew tired of seeing what criminals fear. She wanted more. She wanted to find out what drove the Superhero, more specifically, what drove Batman.

 

And so for many years, she played the long game. Tracking, trapping and experimenting on Batman. Unfortunately for her, she only had one opportunity to properly expose the Batman to her toxins. It yielded results, yes, but not nearly enough. Just as she peeled back the inner layers of his psyche, the police found her hideout and arrested her, later imprisoning her in Arkham asylum.

 

She spent many years locked away, away from the world, away from her patients and, most importantly, away from her toxins. She needed her toxins, craved them almost. She also craved knowledge. What made the Batman tick. She drove herself half mad thinking about it, day and night. By her second year of incarceration, her cell walls were thick with drawings, chemical symbols and her prized possession: her notes.

 

But it was in 2005 when things took a turn for the better. She received news that she was to be transferred to Belle Reve prison, where she could receive 'better' treatment for her illness. However, this turned out to be a lie. Instead, she was taken to a dark room, and strapped to a chair. Out of the shadows stepped the warden, Amanda Waller. She offered Joanna the opportunity of a lifetime: a chance to expose someone to her fear gas. This in itself was very tempting to Joanna. It had been years since she had been separated from her precious gas, longer had it been since she experimented with it. Better still, Waller informed her, it wasn't just any person she could experiment on. It was Superman.

 

Deadshot:

Floyd Lawton had always had exceptional skill with a gun. Any gun. After retiring from the army in 1988, Lawton was bored. And so, he found himself becoming a mercenary, anything for the thrill of a good shot. He went on to claim many lives, some well known and some obscure. There were even rumours among the criminal underworld that he'd shot JFK. Ridiculous of course, but he lapped it up. He was, in his opinion, the best sniper in the world. Never missed, never caught.

 

Until he tangled with the worlds finest, Batman and Superman. He was tracked by Batman, and captured by Superman. He was locked away, and the key thrown away. For twelve years he was imprisoned. Twelve years away from the world. but that didn't bother him. What bothered him was that he'd never see his little girl grow up. He could never regain the time he should have spent with her.

 

At least, that was what he thought. After the millennium war, he was transferred to Belle Reve, and was introduced to the warden. With his vast military experience, and gun handling skills, he was the perfect person. In Wallers eyes, the perfect person to command task force X.

 

Killer Croc:

From a young age, Waylon Jones knew he was...different. He was taller than the other kids his age. He had hard skin and...ridges along the sides of his head. Raised by his abusive aunt, Waylon decided that he had to escape. And so, at just 15, he ran away. Because of his disfigurement and freakish appearance, he found himself unwelcome pretty much anywhere.

 

So, he found himself living in the sewers, living of rats, and the odd homeless person. Despite this, he lived a peaceful life. Until rumours of crocodile men living in Gothams sewers peaked the interest of Batman. The dark knight ventured down into the sewers, in search of the so called 'Killer Croc'. He found him. Naturally, Waylon reacted aggressively. Wrong move. After a long and exhausting fight with Batman, Waylon was defeated, and hauled off to Belle Reve.

 

Not knowing what to do with him, the wardens thought it best to just put him in a sectioned off area of the sewers and...try to forget about him. So, the years went by and almost everyone forgot about him. Almost. One person never forgot. She knew he would come in useful some day. And, with the aftermath of the millennium war, that day came. Waller approached Waylon, now 37, and much more resembling a crocodile, and offered him a chance. A chance at living a normal life. Of being accepted. Waylon wasn't interested. He had lived his whole life like this, what good would changing himself be. Smirking, Waller told him he could live in the sewers of Gotham, undisturbed by the Batman. She'd make sure of it. 'But what's the catch' Waylon asked. 'A favour' was Wallers answer.

 

Captain Boomerang:

Coming from Australia to America in the seventies, George 'Digger' Harkness only had one thing on his mind: Bank robbery. He'd made quite a name for himself back home, for robbing bank, and now he thought it was time to become internationally known as the best bank robber in the world.

 

What he hadn't expected was a fella' in red, darting around, stopping him at every turn. That wasn't on. So for years, he harboured a rivalry with the costumed hero known as the Flash. He even went so far as to joining a gang of criminals calling themselves 'The Rogues'. For years, he ran with the Rogues, staging elaborate exploits to try to put the Flash out of commission, although, they failed every time. This went on for a while before Digger decided he'd had enough. In 1986, he retired as Captain Boomerang, and tried to live a normal life. For a brief time, he joined the Circus, under an assumed identity of course.

 

This went on for a short time before he settled down and assumed a normal life. He got a job working on cars of all things, and, for once in his life, he was content. Until his past life came to the surface and he was reported by his boss to the police. He was arrested and sent to iron heights, where he spent a miserable 10 years imprisoned. Occasionally, other rogues would be imprisoned there too, and they'd share tales of the times they 'almost' killed the Flash.

 

This all came to an end however, when he was, without warning, transferred to Belle Reve, and asked by the warden to join her team, in exchange for freedom. 'Yes' he thought. He could regain his life on the outside. Of course, he had to do something in return: Kill Superman.

  

Bane:

Prison was no stranger to Bane. His earliest memories were in a prison. Santa Prisca. the place where he felt most at home. Until he grew tired of beating up the same criminals over and over again. After all, being King of a self contained kingdom is boring. Along with a few others, he escaped.

 

He eventually found his way to Gotham city, a city he'd heard to be ruled by fear and sin. Bane had a feeling he'd do well here. Until he actually arrived, and heard that a 'bat-creature' was roaming the streets and cutting out crime. Bane had always hated bats, ever since he was a little boy back in Santa Prisca. But he was set on making Gotham his kingdom, so decided to rid the city of the so called 'Batman".

 

After many years of information gathering, Bane was ready. In his studies of the Batman, he had uncovered the truth. He had the Batmans secret identity: Bruce Wayne. He had also obtained a new steroid, known as Venom, which greatly boosted his strength and stamina, but sacrificing brain power. He was ready to make Gotham his own.

 

Catching Batman by surprise in his Batcave, Bane was easily able to break the bat. For a time, he was Gothams reckoning, it's King. Until Batman returned and beat him. Bane was imprisoned in Belle Reve, and spent many years going back and forth between freedom and imprisonment. It was during the latter that the millennial war struck and the natural order was overturned. The warden came to Bane, and offered him the opportunity of a life time: the chance to bend steel. The man of steel. This was a chance too good to miss. He had broken the bat, and now he had the opportunity to break the strongest hero of them all: Superman.

    

====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."

 

==Van Cleer Manor. Morning==

 

Miranda- Ok, sweetie, that's me off to the office now.

 

Drury- Oh, don't worry, don't worry, I'll drive you. Gotta drop off Cammy at the Pre-School anyway! Look at you! Look how big you're getting!

 

*Drury scoops up his youngest, and the doting parents kiss him*

 

Miranda- Aren't you mommy's special guy?

 

Cammy- Look! Look!

 

*He proudly presents Miranda with a crayon drawing of the family*

 

Miranda- Oh Drury look what he drew! Aren't you talented?

 

Cammy- It's mommy and daddy, and Simon and Kitten and Axel and me!

 

Drury- Oh! And is that a little Moth costume you're wearing?

 

*Gaige strolls in, a copy of the Gotham Gazette in one hand, a mug of Irish coffee in the other*

 

Gaige- Statistically, kid sidekicks don't have the most illustrious careers.

 

Miranda- Yeah, tell the kid that dad.

 

Drury- Don't listen to pip-pop, you can be our Robin if you want! Is that what you want?

 

Cammy- Yay!

 

Drury- Then let's get into the Mothmobile and do some cri- Let's get into the Mothmobile and stop some crime!

 

*Drury and Miranda leave the lounge with their son in their arms, passing a very tired looking Simon as they leave*

 

Drury- Say did Gar say when he'd be back?

 

Miranda- He'll be back soon! Don't worry!

 

Drury- I'm just saying, Mick's a bad influence!

 

Miranda- Mick's the bad influence?! Look, I'm sure he misses you too, let's go.

 

Drury- Right behind you!

 

==Arkham Asylum- Now==

 

Jim and I have been talking. About the Arkham City redevelopment scheme. Neither of us exactly think it's a good idea, but when the alternative is the asylum, it's hard to argue against it. The best term to describe the asylum is a "revolving door" for the worst killers and madmen around. I'm not the first person to call it that- most of the inmates would certainly agree. I keep hoping that one day, one day Jeremiah Arkham will finally do his job and help these people. Contrary to what some at the GCPD believe, I don't enjoy beating up the mentally ill. Yet, with Strange reinstated, I can't help feel that there's a reason behind these more frequent riots. Grange is mayor now, and despite Selina's protests, I'm of the mind Walker deserved a second chance. Though I'll never admit it, I voted for him, and despite his occasional recklessness, I believe that he truly wants what's best for Gotham. Grange meanwhile, is an old school mayor. Graduated Harvard same year as Harvey did. I can only hope she learned something from Walker's administration. The so-called Son's of Scarecrow have seized control of the Asylum- kids who worship Crane as an idol, a saviour even, for his role in the Society's chemical attack last year. They're young, but dangerous, and their delusions are going to get people killed. I have to get to Crane before they do.

 

Batman- How many escapees?

 

Captain- Ten, fifteen, at most. Opportunists mostly, none of the big players- those radicals only want Scarecrow. They're holed up in the Pacification Chamber. Six hostages, including Doctor Arkham. We haven't had a good look, but it seems they found some of Crane's old formulas?

 

Batman- Arkham didn't destroy them?

 

*No. Of *course* he didn't*

 

Captain- Huh. I guess not. You'll be careful right?

 

Batman- Yes, captain. I'll get those hostages out safely, and put an end to this.

 

==Van Cleer Manor. Morning==

*Simon sits down beside Gaige in the kitchen. Tiger Shark mutters words to the effect of "Y'know, there are plenty of other chairs here"*

 

Simon- Hey, could you pass the orange juice?

 

Gaige- Oh yeah. Sure.

 

...

 

Simon- Just the two of us?

 

Gaige- Just me actually. Go buy yourself a beer.

 

*He throws $20 Simon's way, in an obvious attempt to make him leave. Not aware that Simon was under age, or that it was eight in the morning*

 

...

 

Simon- So mom's got an office job?

 

Gaige- You're still here?

 

Simon- How long has that been going on?

 

Gaige- A few months. Needed to step up didn't she? Walker in prison, you striking out. That new bint's in office too now, so your old man ain't getting his job back anytime soon. She's smart. She's got herself a good job mind.

 

*Simon wanted to desperately change the subject*

 

Simon- Yeah, I'm sorry. About everything

 

Gaige- What're you apologising to me for? I wasn't the one crying.

 

*Simon nods, then very suddenly grabbing and hugging Gaige who immediately grabs a knife out of habit*

 

Gaige- Are we hugging now? Is that a thing?

 

Simon- I just... missed you.

 

Gaige- And a good morning to you too

 

==Arkham. Now==

 

*The one in the middle is Thomas Shift. A paranoid schizophrenic. I can't say that Scarecrow's gas helped him out much, it made him even more of a wreck, but even worse, now he thinks he has a purpose*

 

Shift- You non-believers will pay for your insubordination! You will be enlightened, as we have, in the name of our lord. Praise be the Scarecrow!

 

Sons- Praise be the Scarecrow!

 

Shift- *Doctor* Arkham, where is he? Where is the master- you said you'd arrange everything!

 

Arkham- I *said* we could talk this out, Thomas. Now, let me out of this ridiculous device and perhaps we could sti-

 

Shift- No! No! You said you would bring us Scarecrow! Where is Scarecrow!

 

Arkham- We keep him underground. Let me go, and I'll-

 

Shift- Kill me?! Is that what you were going to say? Is it?

 

No, you-

 

*Crane's held in "The Hole"- at Strange's request. One of the most remote cells on the island, second only to Bolton's (who can't be kept in a regular cell, he knows just about every lock out there). They used to keep Joker there, before deciding, in the wake of the City of Fear incident, that Crane was the bigger threat. It requires three different eye scans to get in and out, and food is sent in through chutes, not unlike the system in place for Croc. It also violates several human rights- something I'll have to talk to Arkham about. But the Sons don't know that or even care, and they'll start executing hostages if I don't interfere. Now. A well placed batarang will cut the wires attached to Arkham. A smoke pellet will distract them while I take down Shift. Their screaming deafens the sounds of my punching, as I take them down hard and fast. The main threat dealt with, I can head to maximum security and check on Crane. Or that was the idea until I heard the sirens go off*

 

Tannoy- Alert. Alert. Metahuman dampeners offline. Extreme Incarceration on lockdown. May all staff evacuate to the upper floors.

 

*Seems like someone wants to keep me busy. Sorry Selina, I can't risk Grundy or Phosphorus getting out tonight, or even- A guard, Michaels, slides through the closing doors towards me. Strange, that opening seemed too small*

 

Michaels- Batman, you got to help me, Ivy just shot up through the floor, Freeze just burst through that wall- all the metas are running loose!

 

Batman- Stay calm officer I-

 

*The next thing I know, "Michaels" knocks me down the hallway*

 

Michaels- There's a sucker born every minute huh Bats?

 

Batman- Hagen.

 

*Michaels laughs, then morphs his body back into that of Matt Hagen- The second Clayface. The star of a reality TV show who fell into a pool of protoplasm filming his last survival show. The same chemicals Daggett had been using in his illegal Renew-U formula for years. Karlo was fueled by rage after his accident. Hagen just saw a quicker route to fame*

 

Hagen- I'm getting better, ain't I? Admit it, I had you fooled.

 

Batman- Michaels has green eyes Hagen.

 

Hagen- Well, y'know showbiz, it's a constant learning process!

 

*A mallet. It's always a mallet. And yet, I still think something's off. Hagen has never been one to stay behind. He's stalling for something- or someone. A lead pipe answers my question. The cowl takes the brunt of the force but I'm still disoriented. And then he comes in, while I'm stunned. He's a good fighter, good enough to take me on while I'm this at least. It's like he knows the moves I'm going to make. Wrath? Prometheus? Could it be Strange, even? Before I lose consciousness I look back up to see my own face staring back at me.*

 

Bruce- Tommy.

 

Hush- Hush, Batman. Hush. Now prep the cell. Time he had a taste of his own medicine

7:14pm

  

Guy Gardner's feet touched the ground as the faint glow of his ring faded. It was currently seven o'clock, Guy arriving at The Warriors after finishing his shift at the station. It had been a pretty quiet week, only paperwork really, but he was still pretty tired.

  

The Warriors was the perfect place to attend. It was a small bar located on the edge of Coast City, but boomed in business with it's superhero theme. The walls were lined with memorabilia and photos of different members of the Justice League, as well as heroes outside of it. Heroes weren't all though as The owner, Dell Meriwether, seemed to be obsessed with super people in general, having an entire half of the bar dedicated to villains.

  

Guy sluggishly pushed the door open, spotting the bartender with his signature wide grin. "Heya Lantern!" he exclaimed, getting a few heads to turn. Guy gave a small wave, walking over to a stool at the bar. "So, what'll you be having today?"

  

"Usual," he stated, turning his head to the small tv hanging on the wall. Footage of John, Doctor Polaris, and the copycat villain was playing, showing the original saving a bus full of people. His head turned once more upon the door opening. Stepping inside was a man in a black and blue suit, yellow lightning bolts running down the torso. "Look out guys, a big shot just walked in!"

  

"Oh ho ho," chuckled Jeff as he sat down next to the Lantern. "Someone still a little jealous they weren't asked to be on the Justice League?"

  

Guy waved his hand, "Me? Jealous? Nah. I'm a Green Lantern."

  

"A Green Lantern who's not on the Justice League," replied Jeff, who laughed at the grumble that came from Guy's mouth. "So how ya been man?"

  

Guy sighed as he looked into the newly placed glass of whiskey. "It's… it's been a bit rough," he admitted, taking another long breath. "Richie… he's a great kid, but it's like I'm running-"

  

"A triathlon of hero work, your job, and raising a kid?" Jeff suggested, gaining a nod from Guy. "Heh, yeah… it's definitely tough. Remember you got a support network, we're here for you."

  

Guy nodded, taking a sip from his glass. "I sometimes forget you got the same thing goin' for you," he responded, placing his glass down. "Superhero daycare, the two of us."

  

"Trust me, when I got a whole school full of potential metahumans, I can pass on that idea."

  

Both heroes laughed, clinking their glasses and downing another drink.

  

10:42pm

  

"And so I tell him, you're less of a Green Lantern, more like a Green Fat-tern," explained Guy to a bewildered Jeff, both too many beers in to count.

  

"No way," gasped Jeff, placing a hand over his mouth in disbelief. "Fat shaming is so rude though!"

  

Guy shook his head, waving his hand in front of his face. "No no no, it's okay cause he is a… a… a Kilowog."

  

"Oh… okay then, you're all good," informed Jeff, patting his friend on the back.

  

"Hey, you're Black Lightning and Green Lantern!" shouted a voice behind them. The two turned to see a man who looked to be homeless in a purple shirt with a blue hoodie on, his hair a dark brown. "I'm a big fan!"

  

Guy tilted his head before shooting a finger gun at the man, "Plug Boi!"

  

Jeff repeated the action, slurring, "Plug Boi… whatever that is."

  

The man tilted his head confused, but before he could ask Guy spoke, "Come sit down with us bud, drinks are on me!"

  

"Uh… sure?" the man responded, taking a seat next to the heroes.

  

Dell returned to the group upon seeing the new addition. "Who's the new guy?" he asked, pulling out his pen and paper.

  

"This right here is the Neal Emerson, aka Plug Boi!" announced Guy, throwing his arm around the man.

  

"Uh… my name is Allen," noted the man.

  

"That's what I said!" shouted Guy, taking a swig of the glass in front of him.

  

Dell shoved the pen and paper out to the man, a page ready with information on Doctor Polaris. "Sorry, but I've never had you here before," Dell apologized, rubbing the back of his head. "I'd love an autograph!"

  

"But I- sure."

  

1:17am

  

Guy, Jeff, and "Neal" all stumbled through Coast City Park, the three drunk beyond means. Anytime Jeff would burp or hiccup, his body would discharge a pulse of electricity, his mouth smoking each time. Guy's ring would create whatever he thought of, no mental block to stop it. "Neal" was only trailing behind.

  

"Wait!" Guy shouted upon hearing a rustle in the bushes, stop sign constructs erupting from his ring. "Look over there!"

  

The other two's eyes followed the arrow construct that pointed to the bush, watching it rustle. They all gave each other a look before creeping towards the hedge.

  

As they approached, the rustling grew louder, sending shivers down their spines. Guy raised his hand, a clock construct appearing. "three…" he started, holding up three fingers, "two… one!"

  

The three all charged the bush, watch as something blueish-grey popped out of the green. All of them looked at the small creature.

  

"Arkillo!?" shouted Guy, surprised by the appearance. "What are you doing here?"

  

"Meow."

  

"Hey, for a *hic*… for an alien monster man, that wasn't a bad impression," Jeff praised, fanning the smoke from his mouth.

  

"Meow."

  

"Alright then Arkillo, follow us to… uh… where are we going?" asked Guy, scratching his head and creating multiple question marks above his head.

  

Suddenly, the sound of a police siren went off, making all of them turn their heads.

  

"That way!" shouted "Neal", running towards the sirens.

  

1:25am

  

Damion Poitier, better known as the new criminal Bling, chuckled as the money was loaded into his bag. His partner and ex-cousin in-law Keith Kenyon, aka Goldface, was quickly making an escape for them. It was all the perfect plan, the cops couldn't get in because of the solid gold doors.

  

It was the perfect plan, until the outside wall burst open. The two criminals turned towards the hole, faces falling to confusion at the sight.

  

Green Lantern, Black Lightning, a homeless man, and a cat all stood ready.

  

"Stop right there, criminal...s!"

  

1:30am

  

Jessica Cruz flew through the sky, following the coordinates in her ring. A robbery in-progress was just reported.

  

As she arrived at the bank, she noted the large hole in the side of the building. Floating down to it, her eyes widened at the sight inside.

  

Goldface was currently pinned against the wall by a large Green hand constructed by Guy, a man in a hoodie hitting him repeatedly with a chair. On the other side of the room, Jeff was stumbling around, burping up electricity while a cat was latched on another man's face.

  

"What the fuck?"

  

1:12pm

  

"What were you thinking!?" shouted Jessica, staring at the two heroes sitting on Guy's couch. The two had passed out after the fight, Jess being forced to bring them to Guy's place.

  

"Ugh…" groaned Guy, rubbing his eyes.."Keep it down a bit Jess… my head is fucking killing me."

  

"Keep it down!?" she once again shouted. "That bar is in an ongoing investigation about spiking drinks with stuff derived from fear toxin. That stuff is dangerous!"

  

Jeff grumbled, "We had it under control…"

  

"Oh did you?" she asked, now looking at Jeff. "Because Lynn didn't seem too happy when I called her this morning." Jeff's face paled, causing Guy to chuckle. "Zip it, you," she threatened.

  

"Sorry mom," Guy mumbled, causing Jessica to roll her eyes.

  

She stepped away from the two into the kitchen where Richie was eating a sandwich, Simon leaning against the table smirking at the two on the couch. "I can't believe them!" she ranted, looking at the other hero. "How on earth do you even mistake a cat and a homeless man for Arkillo and Doctor Polaris?"

  

Richie chuckled, slightly. Simon looked at her, then back to the two sitting on the couch. "I'm not sure… you really put them in their place though, huh mom?"

  

She sighed, looking down, "I wasn't too harsh was I? I didn't want to overstep any boundaries but what they did was too reckless and-"

  

"Hey," Simon interjected, looking at her. "You did more than okay. You were great."

  

She smiled slightly, her eyes widening as she heard a disturbing noise behind her.

  

"IN THE BUCKET YOU TWO!"

Two weeks after the Rogues...

 

I walk into the labs after getting a text from Cisco that a surprise was ready for me. I run down to the (temporary) level they work in and see the two scientists standing in front of a door, both of their faces wearing huge grins.

 

"What's up, guys?"

 

"So, there are actually two surprises for you. Cisco and I found out that Victor is getting out of the hospital later today, and I'm sure he wants to thank you very much."

 

I smile. "That's terrific! What's the other one?"

 

"I finished it."

 

Cisco presses the opening mechanism and reveals a small room with a transparent storage container. In the container sits a red suit with gold and black details.

 

"It's made of a highly flexible material that absorbs heat and friction. The darker parts are also more resistant to indirect gunfire and melee projectiles."

 

I stare in awe and slowly walk towards it. When I reach it, I see a gold lightning bolt across the chest area and place my hand over it. It's the symbol that I have on my necklace charm, a birthday present from my dad gave me before he...I start to tear up.

 

"Are you okay?" Cisco asks, a look of worry appearing on his face. I nod and wipe my eyes.

 

"I'm fine. It's beautiful. Thank you. Both of you."

 

They smile warmly, and Caitlin starts to speak.

 

"We'll leave you alone for a bit".

 

They walk out of the room with me just looking at the suit. That's okay, since I needed to clear my thoughts anyways.

 

My name is Jamie Allen, and I am the fastest human alive. The Flash was my father, but he's not here. I am. It's my job to carry on his legacy, with the help of a few friends. And so far, I'm doing pretty good. I am the Flash.

 

With the Rogues gone, I can look into some other mysteries, like the metahuman testing STAR Labs has been doing. First though, I want to investigate this letter that showed up for me...

I met the Puppet Master

The narrow, high-walled passage swallowed the sound of my boot scraping a broken cobblestone, the echo sharp in the dry air. Above, a sliver of unforgiving sunlight cut down, carving deep shadows where the smell of dust and ancient stone now replaced the damp, mossy scent of the gully.

 

I paused, looking not just at my gloved hand—the leather scuffed from my descent, but at what was attached to it. Thin, nearly invisible lines, like high-tensile wires, stretched from the articulated cuff on my wrist and disappeared into the air above the path. I tracked them with my eyes until they converged on a small, stone figure standing motionless in the centre of the walkway.

 

It was a crude marionette, barely a foot tall, carved from the same pale, cracked stone as the surrounding walls. Dressed in a simple tunic, its blank, oval face held a radiating sense of expectant waiting. Its arms were held out, palms up.

 

I held the strings. Yet, the feeling was not one of control. It was as if the strings did not originate from my wrist, but merely passed through it, continuing upwards into the blinding light high above the gully walls.

 

"Who's the puppet, and who's the master?" I whispered, my voice a dry croak.

 

My hand twitched, an unbidden reflex. The stone figure jerked forward a fraction of an inch, its miniature boot grating on the path—a jerky, unnatural movement. A cold understanding gripped me: I wasn't controlling the doll; something else was controlling me to control the doll. The "Paraknowing" hadn't stopped its manipulation; it had simply changed its method. I was no longer merely a performer; I was the instrument itself.

 

The blank-faced stone figure stood there, a silent, pale extension of my own unwilling hand. And from somewhere high above, beyond the reach of my sight, I felt the strings tighten. The show, I realised, was far from finished.

 

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Volume 1 - Origin of Powerhouse: Issue #8

Flicker Fighters

 

The villain on the glider was known as Hollyween. She was an assassin ‘in training’ who was hired by some guy to kill both Ben and his Mum. However, after crashing through a window she was quick to cough up her employers location. Before Ben payed them a visit he decided it was time for a quick costume change. He didn’t really like the flight suit, probably because he didn’t know how to fly in it.

 

As he made his way to ‘Imagine’ he decided to follow the lead without telling his Mum, she’d only worry. Besides, she’d hear he was okay on the news after he took off to fight Hollyween. He wanted to find the one responsible for threatening his Mum and her company. After an uncomfortable suit change he was back in the suit he’d appropriately nicknamed, Knockout. He never thought he’d be back in this armour ever since he used it to defeat Connie’s killer. However, here he was on yet another mission. Ben made his way to the location Hollyween had given him. He got a lot of suspicious looks and even was greeted by citizens on the street who recognised him. After a fifteen minute walk and getting lost a couple times, he found himself in an alley.

 

Ben: “I’m pretty sure this is where Bruce Wayne’s parents got shot.”

 

Ben didn’t know what it was but he felt as if he was being watched. The further ahead he walked the more prominent the feeling became. It could’ve been the armour but Ben felt unstoppable and capable of taking on anyone in this suit. So he wasn’t worried about the possibility of getting jumped. His confidence was soaring after he wiped the floor with Wylde; a super strong Metahuman. This suit gave him super strength and also enhanced his movements so he could swing his fist fluidly as if he didn’t have armour on.

 

Ben continues to walk through the alley until something slams against his shoulders and a squeal of metal screeches in his ears. He grunts and trips forward as something sharp nips the side of his neck. As he is about to turn to face the culprit he is rammed into a pile of trash cans. The deafening clanging of his armour against the metal bins gives him a sore head. He slowly pushes himself to his feet and awkwardly presses an armoured finger against his neck. He draws it away and notices a small amount of blood smeared on the metal fingertip. Ben turns his head and notices two knives are sticking out from his armour. They aren’t lodged in deep, only a few centimetres. Whoever did this probably didn’t expect the armour to withstand the attack. After a quick search Ben doesn’t see the attacker.

 

Ben: “Yeah, douchebag you better run!”

 

Ben didn’t know what that was all about but it doesn’t take him long until he realises Hollyween must’ve set him up. A backup assassin in case she failed, perhaps? Talk about being a cynic. Ben scratches the knives out from his armour and they fall to the ground. He continues walking ahead but stops.

 

Ben: “Should probably put those in a safe place so some kid doesn’t hurt themselves. Kids are stupid.”

 

It’s then Ben sees the knives are gone. He runs over with his fists raised and swings blindly in the open air for an invisible attacker. Just as he suspected he hits nothing but the open air. Ben quickly raises a fist near his face as a precaution, just as a knife suddenly gets lodged between his fingers.

 

Ben: “Whoa! Hey, not cool!”

 

Ben thrusts his other fist with a quick jab and strikes the invisible foe. He hears them grunt in pain and notices a cloud of dust billow out from against the wall in front of him. He must’ve smacked the attacker against it.

 

Ben: “Hah! Got ya, bish!”

 

Ben sprints over and pounds his fist against the spot on the wall but doesn’t hit nothing. Luckily for them he misses and his fist breaks through the wall. He pulls out quickly and spins on his heel in a 360° motion with his arms extended. He doesn’t hit anything. Crap, he’s lost them. Ben begins to feel claustrophobic in the alley way and jogs out onto the street, blending into the crowd. As someone who seems to be cloaked they must find it difficult to navigate crowds that can’t see them. Ben looks around in a panic, guarding his face with his gauntlets raised. People look at him confused as they walk around him. After a minute or so Ben makes his way hrough the crowd and stops before the road, trying to lure out his attacker. Cars pass and Ben is about to give it up until he hears a pained cry and a heavy thud.

 

Ben: “No freakin’ way.”

 

Ben looks across the road and watches as a car comes to a halt. A confused driver gets out, looking around. He notices his wing mirror dangling off the side of his car and curses. Ben jogs over, careful to avoid the overtaking cars. His foot catches an invisible force and he trips falling beside the confused driver. Ben awkwardly gets to his feet and looks down, noticing a dropped knife. He crouches down patting his armoured gauntlet along the ground until he hits something. A male voice exclaims in pain and Ben laughs in disbelief.

 

Ben: “Alright, show yourself.”

 

Ambush: “Arghh! No.”

 

Ben: “I’ll call you an ambulance if you show yourself. Wait, you’re not naked are you?”

 

The driver of the car stares in shock as he and Ben see a costumed man suddenly appear. Ben quickly withdraws his gauntlet as he realises it’s touching the attackers thigh. The attacker is cradling his side and is rocking in pain on the road. He must’ve went on the road to avoid the crowds on the street and unfortunately got hit by one of the speeding cars. Sucks to be invisible at times. Ben was beginning to think he was extremely lucky when it came to fighting villains. The first one didn’t even get a chance to fight back, the second flew threw a window, and now this guy gets hit by a car.

 

Ben: “Alright, now tell me who hired you. Then, I’ll call you an ambulance.”

 

Ambush: “Fine! Sheila Barron. She hired me, she’s the CEO of Power-Up Pharmacy, look her up. I swear! Just call me an ambulance.”

   

(WORD OF WARNING: This is a long one ._.)

A few hours after I decide to go see Zolomon, three people walk into the labs with Cait, who introduces them to us. One's a girl, who's giving off this weird frequency vibration that I can't pick up at all. Another is my Uncle Wally? He's wearing a police outfit that's from Coast City. Looks like he takes after Grandpa here. And finally, Hal Jordan. The Green Lantern. I can't believe my eyes when I look at him. The others seem to pick up on this, and I quickly change my attitude and start to talk.

 

"Well, I'm Jamie. I'm working as a bit of an... internship for my forensics class at school," I add, since it seemed weird for their to be an almost 18-year old in a laboratory, "This is Cisco, and that's Caitlin. What can we help you with?"

 

Cisco notices Hal's costume and speaks up, to which Uncle Wally explains who he is...sorta. He then goes on to say that Hal was hurt by a metahuman, and asks for our help. I can't contain my excitement.

 

"Sure!" I yell, but I stop when I see the girl whisper in Hal's ear. Something is definitely off with her. With other people, my powers can detect a certain frequency they give off. But with her...it's a lot faster. Not speedster fast, though. Cisco and I help him get to the Med-Bay (Cis' name idea), and help him get the torso off from his uniform. I gasp a little at what I see. He has a huge area of charred and burned flesh on his chest, and was caked with dried blood. It's weird to see him like this, since on my world he's pushing 50. Here, he's not over 30. He lays down and rests, while Cisco goes out to talk to everyone else. Making sure nobody's looking, I used my powers to sprint around the room, grab supplies, and insert an IV drip to his arm. It's your usual concoction of vitamins, plus a little chemical I made up by creating a vaccine using my cells. Hopefully, this helps him heal better. Once that was done, I spent a bit getting info on Dr. Zolomon when Hal wakes up.

 

We had a really cool chat, he asked me if we really worked with Flash, and I smirked a bit without answering. Then he formally introduced himself to me, and laid back down. I go to leave when he talks.

 

"Jamie, why did you stay?"

 

I think for a second, then answer.

 

"I don't know. You just kinda remind me of someone I know."

 

With this, I leave, grab my costume, and head to Zolomon's apartment.

 

Hunter Zolomon's Penthouse...

 

Dr. Zolomon sat at his desk, looking over old notes on a formula called 'Velocity-3', discovered by Edward Clariss in the 1960's. Zolomon had been working on revising it for a friend and was now on 'Velocity-7'. Suddenly, a red blur taps him on the shoulder and he screams, falling onto the floor.

 

"Woah, woah. I'm the Flash, good guy-er, girl. Maybe you've seen me on the news, kinda."

 

He breathes slowly and looks at her, then sighs in relief.

 

"I thought you were him. Thank god you're not."

 

She looks at him with a confused look.

 

"He? He who?"

 

"The man in black. You haven't seen him? He work for Professor T-"

 

At this, a black blur trailed by red lightning runs in and grabs Zolomon. It looks over at the Flash and speaks with a distorted voice.

 

"The Professor wanted me to say, happy early birthday, Flash."

 

As it leaves with Zolomon, the Flash just stands there, frozen with terror. Only one word can escape her lips.

 

"Zoom."

________________________________________________

Hope you guys enjoy this crossover between Dodge and I! Also, how does the new photo setup look? I may or may not keep this, just wanted to test it out.

Young Heroes Vol 1 - Issue #9 "M-Pill"

 

*The group took the news about Felix hard, because they were reckless the boy almost drowned. Thankfully, Hope took the information to Vega and A.N.G.E.L. forces were dispatched to intercept the smugglers vessel and because of him not sneaking out with his team he managed to save Felix. After a week in recovery Felix's Dad didn't want him on the team anymore, Vega took full responsibility for the teams actions but she made up for it with the training beatdown they received. Nik is still hospitalised but is making a strong recovery after his heavy injuries from the fight against Sharkattack. Apparently the villain was purposely intercepting T.O.X.I.N.s smuggling operation, downing the ships and transporting the containers full of kids to another employer. That was what they thought anyway, as the attack was rather random. Who is wanting the children of T.O.X.I.N. and for what is still being investigated but the hero of Atlas City has some news.*

 

Vega: "What is it, Guardian? Any good news?"

 

Guardian: "Afraid not. It appears that, Luna was right about his hunch."

 

Emoji: "Isn't that good? We know who is smuggling in these Meta kids!"

 

Guardian: "It's who it is that's the bad news. It's, Alpha."

 

Vega : "Damn."

 

Hope: "What's so bad about him? Besides the generic name?"

 

*Guardian and Vega exchange looks and he nods to a silent question, she curses and thumps her fist down on the table. The team look at one another confused and wait for an answer.*

 

Guardian: "He's in Atlas City. For those of you who don't know, the citizens are very..."

 

Vega: "Anti-Meta."

 

Guardian: *clears his throat* "Cultural. The people only accept winged Meta's and certain animal types. That's why you guys can't get Alpha, he's a wolf type Meta."

 

Luna: "Can't you bring him in?"

 

*Guardian laughs dryly, clearly unamused and looks away bitterly.*

 

Guardian: "It's not so simple, there's a problem."

 

Luna: "Don't tell me... a political one?"

 

Vega: "How did yo-"

 

Luna: "We used to clash back in the day."

 

Hope: "So what, this guy the mayor?" *laughs*

 

Guardian: "Actually, yes. He's going to be announcing something new to the city today. This is why Vega has been authorised to send you lot in. The media, citizens and police are swarming the City Hall so if they spot a hero like me 'harassing' the mayor it's bad press. So see what he's up to."

 

Emoji: "So... no costumes?"

 

Vega: "Unfortunately not."

 

*The team change and are each transported to Atlas City, where they wait for Vega to show up. Hope is a little reluctant to be showing the team his identity but he wanted to help the team out, it's the least he could do with two members short. Luna meets up with him with a slight wave and is shortly followed by Emoji, who seems to look rather nervous without Nik by her side.*

 

Emoji: "Hope?"

 

Hope: "Uh... yeah. So you guys ever seen Vega without her mask?"

 

Luna: "No. Why, you think she's got tons of scars or something?"

 

*Hope looks off to the side with his arms folded and stares amazed at the young woman who strides her way up the sidewalk. Luna notices her and his jaw drops as she approaches, flicking her hair back and flashing a smile at the group.*

 

Vega: "Hey, team!"

 

*Her smile fades slightly and she looks at Hope and Luna confused, she then rolls her eyes and reaches out lifting their jaws. She turns to Emoji who looks at her wide eyed.*

 

Vega: "Ugh. Ok, so I may have been a model before joining the army. Now come on, let's go see what Mayor Alpha is up to."

 

*Vega swivels around on her heels and begins to walk on ahead with Emoji loosely following. She stops and looks back at the guys who begin to snap out of their daze and jog after them. Soon they approach the City Hall and enter the building where they blend into the huge crowd of people that clamour around the stage which is covered by two billowing curtains. The crowd cheers in excitement as the curtains are pulled to the sides by two kids who go backstage. A large humanoid wolf figure then walks on the stage and is met with cheers, he pulls his lips back in a fanged filled smile and waves to the crowd eyeing them up.*

 

Alpha: "Good evening everyone, thank you so much for coming. I have something big to announce that will change the world forever! I give to you the, M-Pill. A small tablet that when taken with nullify a Metahumans powers, for 24 hours until being taken again. Don't believe me, well why don't you ask my ex-meta volunteers?"

 

*Emoji gasps as they hide in amongst the crowd who watches excitedly as a group of about 50 children march on stage with deadpan expressions. The crowd applaud and Alpha's eyes spark with malice.*

 

Alpha: "Smile my children, grin for the wonderful future ahead!"

 

*The crowd roar with joy seeing the children all smile in unison, there's lips forcefully stretched out in a big toothy grin. Alpha encourages them to wave and they all do in tandem like a sea of hands. The team look at one another alarmed.*

 

Hope: "Now that's just creepy."

   

A bug-like metahuman teen saved by Tim Drake and his Titans from the organization N.O.W.H.E.R.E.. She hasn't been seen much since Scott Lobdell's run on Teen Titans back in the New 52.

 

This is either genius or awful, I have no idea. Please, confirm or deny my madness 😅

For a hundred or more years, Alcatraz island had been the home to a dearth of notorious, infamous criminals, rogues, villains and killers. Over the decades it changed hands a number of times, until finally, it found itself in the pocket of one Director Amanda Waller.

 

It had always been her backup plan; to store some of the lower-threat metahumans and monsters in the basement of the famous facility, and use it as a fallback should anything irreparable befall Belle-Reve. As per her specifications, Alcatraz had been remodeled with the highest security and technology. Some things however, never change.

 

As ever, Michael Patten, The Answer, found himself on monitor duty.

 

Answer, singing: eighty five bottles of shine on the wall, eighty five bottles of shine. Take one down, pass it round, eighty four bottles of shine on the wall.

 

He casually tosses the empty bottle in his hand over his shoulder into a steadily growing pile of refuse. His shiny new console is littered already with cigarette butts, smashed bottles, half-burned books, and a wilted orchid.

 

Answer, muttering: brand new building, well, figuratively, same old work. The ghost of Al Capone kicked me in the ass as I walked in today. Stupid bastard doesn’t even know what crime is. I’ll get him though. Nail his spectral shoes to the goddamn floor. No, no then he’ll just sneak around in his socks. . .

 

He clacked various keys rapidly, opening and closing tabs. Even inebriated he’s the best there is at what he does, and what he does is wander the Internet, accumulating arguably useless knowledge. Or he would be, if a little notification hadn’t pinged up in the corner of the closes screen.

 

Answer: lucky me, I’ve got mail.

 

He hits the little icon, and another tab expands before his blurry eyes. A security feed, Grey and fuzzy. Shifting back and forth on the screen, unscrewing the screws on one of the outdoor ventilators, is a man in a primly pressed suit, freshly-rolled hat, and absolutely no face to speak of.

 

Answer, no longer drowsy: SON OF A BITCH, HE FINALLY FOUND ME. Weh-hell we’ll just have to remedy that won’t we. Score one for the old arch-nemesis-meter, and stamp out a large, faceless pest problem.

 

He watches through nearly-invisible micro-cameras installed in the grates as The Question wiggles his way through.

 

Answer, singing: Ready for the action now, danger boy—

 

He unfolds a smaller keyboard from inside the larger console and begins to type furiously. Little jets of flame begin to spurt from even smaller siphon, beginning to lick at The Question’s clothes and hat. Question elbows the side-paneling hard, breaking the ventilation open and tumbling to the floor below.

 

Answer, still singing: Ready if I’m ready for you, Danger Boy—

 

His fingers keep clacking away. The Question looks up just in time to see wide electric disks spin out from the walls and whirl towards his head. Deftly, he rolls forward into the room ahead, slamming the open door behind him.

 

Answer: Ready if I want it now, Danger Boy?

 

The Question brushes off his long blue coat, then realizes the room he’s in is stuffed to the gills with men in blue uniforms, riot gear, and socks. There’s a cackling ringing out over the loudspeakers that quickly descends into coughing as The Question drops a gas capsule and gets to work. One straight, flat hand connects with the neck of the nearest guard, and it’s on. Two more fall in similar fashion, the second gets a shoe to the stomach while another is grabbed by the jaw and bodily thrown into yet another’s stun baton. He screams and fills the air with the stench of burning hair as he crumples and obstructs another. The Question jabs twice into one un-armored guards stomach, steps on his sock-clad feet, then grabs his wrist and smashes his hand into the finger-scanning panel. The door pops open, The Question drops another smoke bomb, and vanishes through the door.

 

Answer: How dare you, dare you, Danger Boy –

 

The Question looks up once into the security camera, and stands stock still for half a second, before running on.

 

Answer continues clacking furiously, springing up waves and walls of laser beams, trap doors, smashing walls and hidden blades. With the clever use of a nearby water cooler, a potted plant, (Senseless waste of floral life, Question thinks), and the odds and ends from his own pockets, he manages to evade them all.

 

Answer: How dare you, Danger Boy.

 

Question stands for a moment, catching his breath, then looks back up into the cameras.

 

Question: I know you’re here. I know this is you. We’ve played this game for a long time, you and I, but it’s time for playtime to end.

 

There’s a silence, then a lazy: So uh, is your entire body smooth and featureless, or just your face? You a Ken doll, son?

 

Question: Hm. This isn’t like you, death traps. Whatever happened to the verbal sparring? The battle of wits?

 

Answer: Well I’m trying to be witty, but you won’t acknowledge my mocking your potential lack of genitalia. Come up to the Monitor room, we’ll have ourselves a little hoedown.

 

Question: No tricks?

 

Answer: No tricks. I’ll even empty my gun.

 

Six shots ring out over the loudspeaker.

 

Answer: See? Now follow the breadcrumbs to the evil old witches house, little boy.

 

The doors in front of Question swing open, further and further down the hall to the base of a wide staircase. Further into the belly of the beast. Under his mask, The Question smiles, and steps forward to finally find The Answer.

 

Star Laboratories, Central City Branch. While it's reputation has dwindled over the years, in no small part due to an exploding Particle Accelerator, the labs continue to run 24/7. A small team of dedicated scientific minds working together to make the world a brighter place, and make up for the company's past mistakes. But, something was wrong. For the past week, not one of it's employees have left. Not to get lunch. Not to go home. Rain pattered down onto it's metal roof, but... all around it the sun shone, not a cloud in the sky. Rain slid across its darkened windows, and carried down towards Thawne, and Simon. Taking a gloved finger towards the growing puddles, Thawne examines the water

 

Thawne- It's him alright.

 

*Simon nods, he clutches his gun and cautiously pulls on the door. Locked. Obviously. Why wouldn't it be? "It's ok!" he shouts out, prying open the security box, and tinkering with the electronics. In between rearranging wires, and the odd curse, Simon explains himself to Thawne*

 

Simon- I picked up a few things working with the Great White. There was this guy on his crew, Mr Jailor I think, taught me this kind of- And we're in.

 

*The doors whir open, revealing a dark hallway and the faint rumblings of conversation. Oddly... normal conversation*

 

-Can you pass me my mug, eh love?

 

-Urgh, I can't believe you drink this trash Eric. I could just pop down to Jitters, and-

 

-Pick up a Killer Frost frappé? No thank you. Watching my weight-

 

-That's a lot of weight to watch E!-

 

Simon- It sounds like-

 

Thawne- People? Were you expecting a dinosaur?

 

*Simon lagged behind, wondering. Chronos was indeed a time traveller*

 

Simon- Could he-?

 

Thawne- What?

 

*Simon closed his mouth. But, he was now fully expecting Chronos to set a T-Rex on them.*

 

--------

 

*They were in the cortex. In front of them, a group of four scientists moved around the laboratory, drinking coffee and playing football with a scrunched up piece of paper, oblivious to the two confused guests. "Hello?" calls out Simon, but he gets no response. He takes a step backwards, straight into an oncoming scientist*

 

Simon- Oh god, I'm sorry sir.

 

*The man looks right through Simon, straightens his glasses and, once he's back on his feet he suddenly calls out "Can you pass me my mug, eh love?"*

 

Simon- P-pardon?

 

*Another scientist, a young woman, walks right past Thawne, a mug of STAR labs coffee in hand*

 

Tina- Urgh, I can't believe you drink this trash Eric. I could just pop down to Jitters, and-

 

Simon- Thawne?

 

Eric- - frappé? No thank you. Watching my weight

 

Thawne- They're time looped. We can't help them.

 

Tom- -That's a lot of weight to watch E!

 

Simon- But-

 

Thawne- He's in the Particular Accelerator. Let's *go*

 

Actually, I'm right here.

 

*A tingling sensation gripped Simon's body, it was cold, freezing almost. From the groans to the right he knew Thawne was equally uncomfortable. But beyond that, something else- He couldn't move. He wanted to, but he'd lost control of his body. Then he realised. He couldn't feel his heartbeat.*

 

Thawne- -Ccccchhhroooooooonnnnos

 

Chronos- Oh do relax Eobard. I have no intention of hurting you. Do you like my office?

 

*This* was Chronos? The man who killed his mother, his uncle, his *true* family? He wore a white mask, like a clock face, complete with a single hand on his forehead. He looked quite frankly, ridiculous and yet, his eyes were as cold as the chill throughout Simon's body. Like the scientists before him, his gaze went right through Simon.

 

Chronos- I'll see to you later.

 

*If he could spit, Simon would have. He didn't realise he had that kind of hate inside him, not for a man he only just met. Smirking, Chronos picked up a jam jar and thrust it in Thawne's face. Inside it, a little man shrieked unheard pleas*

 

Thawne- Paaaaaaalllmerrrr

 

*Chronos groaned and with a flick of his wrist Thawne could speak clearly again*

 

Thawne- *urh* Palmer.

 

Chronos- Oh yes. Our dear old disaster stopping pal Ray Palmer. I have him tinkering on a little formula for me. And, if he disobeys me, I can just do this-

 

*He shakes the jar. Palmer goes flying then falls to the bottom of the jar with a muffled crack*

 

Chronos- I wouldn't worry about him. He dies? I can get a new one. It would take seconds. Let me give you the tour. There's quite a few familiar faces here actually- Silas, Thomas, Anthony, Thadeus. Scientists. Experts. I was hoping you'd join us. You have the brains, I'll settle for being the brawn... We can work together. I need us to work together. My clairvoyance only reaches so far. And we're running out of time

 

*Chronos rolls down a whiteboard. On it, a mass of scribbled symbols and formulas*

 

Thawne- What is this?

 

Chronos- Time. Simply put. I'm mapping out all outcomes as we speak.

 

Thawne- For what? Until what?

 

*Chronos runs his finger across the whiteboard, then bows his head- "Doomsday"*

 

Chronos- It's inevitable. You can change time all you want, believe me, and yet that final outcome is always the same. Metahuman wars, crazed vigilantes, it's a slippery slope until Nuclear Armageddon. There will be no climatic battle here today. There will be no bad guys to punch. There is only one path. Mine, or, failing that- death.

 

Thawne- Doomsday.

 

Chronos- Doomsday.

 

Simon- That's a load of crap!

 

Chronos- Oh, I thought you were still frozen. My mistake.

 

Simon- You're not some guardian of time, you're a monster, a mercenary who killed my family to save Bridgets'! And you know it!

 

*He was looking at a shadowed figure. Bridget was hiding. Crying silently*

 

Chronos- Oh Simon. Simon Simon Simon. That, is *exactly* what I am.

 

Simon- You're lying.

 

*He had to be. He was the villain. Simon, the hero. Simon didn't kill *his* mom or uncle, did he?*

 

Chronos- This isn't the first time you know. I've altered the past before. Do you recall the circumstances of your resurrection Simon? Did you know that the mastermind was originally the Polka Dot Man? Did you know that Thawne was once fated to die by the Redeemables hand and not your step mother's? Did you realise that there was a time where Lord Death Man spent his days filming a documentary with an Elephant man, because I do. But, I'm not the villain. I'm more of an equaliser. When reality is scrambled, it is *I* who snaps it back into place. As much as you may deny it Simon, this is your time

 

*He was lying. He had to be*

Sorry for the horrific lighting, I wanted to show off Matchstick’s superpower, so I needed the lighting to be a bit dark.

 

L-R:

 

Mister Magnet:

 

Real Name: Arthur Quarts

 

Equipment: None

 

Powers/Abilities: Arthur can attract metal. He is also a skilled baseball player.

 

Weaknesses: He can’t actually control metal, he can only attract it, meaning it will come to him no matter what.

 

Backstory:

 

Arthur was a normal kid, unfortunately, his parents didn’t care for him and just used Arthur as a test subject. They gave him super powers by accident and Arthur killed his parents. After seeing an ad for the Saviors, he joined. Sadly, during his 2nd mission, he was shot repeatedly and died.

 

—————————————

 

Flagstaff:

 

Real Name: Winchester Manning

 

Equipment: Suit, throwing knives, and his trusty staff.

 

Powers/Abilities: Superhuman Agility and Speed. Manning also is skilled with throwing weapons.

 

Weaknesses: His suit provides no protection and is mainly aesthetic.

 

Winchester obsessed with superheroes always wanted to be one as a kid. When he grew up however, he lost that interest. Realizing that he is skilled with a staff, Manning joined the superhero team, the Saviors. During his 2nd mission, Manning was stabbed in the chest with his own staff and he died.

 

———————————————

 

Blackhawk/Nightshift:

 

Read this, it has the same info.

www.flickr.com/photos/purist_lego_minifigs/51378314698/in...

 

———————————————

 

Ace:

 

Real Name: Peter Wellington

 

Equipment: Suit, Throwing Weapons, and Grenades

 

Powers/Abilities: Super Durability

 

Weaknesses: Has trouble talking with people, causing confusion and communication problems.

 

Backstory:

 

A British metahuman that has an disability (being unable to speak). He moved to the USA to try to cure his condition. He was unable to cure his condition leaving him depressed. He later joined the first Saviors team due to curiosity and became Ace. Sadly during his first mission, he was blinded by Matchstick and was shot to death.

 

----------------------------------------------

 

Matchstick:

 

Real Name: Henry Schultz

 

Equipment: Suit and Utility Belt

 

Powers/Abilities: Light Absorption, Glowing Form

 

Weaknesses: Henry's eyes can't stand his full potential meaning he can blind himself by looking at himself in a mirror when using his powers.

 

Backstory:

 

One day, as a kid, Henry was wandering outside during a camping trip. While doing so he found a group of fireflies. Unknown to Henry, those fireflies were mutated and they swarmed Henry and nearly killed him. Luckily, he survived, and had a super power. Whenever, Henry was around a light bulb, it would never work. There were blackouts where ever Henry went, no one knew how to stop them. Henry finally figured out he has to let out all the energy inside of him and in doing so brings out his light form. Henry soon joined the Saviors after discovering this and died during his 2nd mission by blinding himself and falling off a building.

====The Moth-Cave====

 

*And here we are, on the last night. These five stand together, neither heroes or villains. The Killer Moth, once the mayor of Gotham, now something of a freedom fighter. The Tiger Moth, the rogue assassin, who's past has finally caught up with her. The Catwoman, the thief who stole the Batman's heart, and every diamond this side of the country. The Chancer, a gambling man- a boy even, who's dependence on his meta-abilities could be his undoing. And at last, The Killer Wasp, the perfect weapon, who just wants a life beyond that which has been decided for him. Tomorrow, these five will take on an enemy even the Justice League struggle with. An enemy who's hold on their city spans centuries. And when faced with this most deadly foe, and

with all the traps set along the way, there may be little they can do, but run, and beg*

 

Selina- So this is... cosy. Empty, but cosy. How are you doing there, Chancer?

 

*Chancer winks cheekily, and immediately regretting doing so, cowers behind a gaudy coloured car*

 

Drury- Yeah, you can thank Dan Twag for that. Is it true he's got a T-Rex in his cave? Batman. I mean, I modelled all this after what he's got in his- from papers, tabloids mainly, but a T-Rex?

 

Selina- And a giant penny, yep.

 

Drury- Well, that's a given. Penny Plunderer is a dangerous man.

 

Selina- And who might your friend be, because last time I checked, Firefly was a lot more... crispy.

 

*Norbert raises a reluctant, stiff hand, which Selina shakes in kind*

 

Wasp- I... My name is Norbert.

 

Selina- Nice to meet you Norbert, I'm Selina. Now, who's the brains here? You got yourself a Calculator, a Cypher maybe?

 

Drury- Afraid not. The plan's mine.

 

Selina- Great. Great! So, Mr Moth-

 

Drury- That was my father's name

 

*Miranda taps Drury on his shoulder*

 

Miranda- The plan, Drury.

 

Drury- The plan. Two teams. Us three, that's you, Selina, and Norbert. We're taking the main entrance. Miranda is flying in, with luck on her side. Because she's with Chancer...

 

Selina- Oh, this is going to be fun.

 

====Two Hours Later====

 

*I'd been studying guard patterns for the past week or two, and with the maps Chancer found, intercepting them just as they were switching over wasn't as hard as I'd have thought. Pretty easy for Selina and I to take their places, which, in all honesty is kinda depressing... You'd almost hope it'd be harder. Almost. Norbert, on the other hand's, not happy. As the metahuman of the group, it makes the most sense for him to be our "captive," but all the same, I can only guess what kind of horror he's reliving in those chains. A couple more guards approach, meaning I have to put those acting lessons of Drake's to the test*

 

Drury- Move it prisoner.

 

*Not bad. Not bad... A walk in the-*

 

Guard- Hey, I just need to check for identification.

 

*Selina is already going to her taser. Hope she trusts me...*

 

Drury- Oh yeah, sure.

 

*The guard looks over our documents. Thank you Oracle*

 

Guard- Yeah. Yeah, that checks out. Sorry, can't be too careful.

 

Drury- Ah, no worries.

 

Selina- *cough* Yeah, there are some real psychopaths about...

 

*And off we go. If the map's right, the main entrance is just down-*

 

Guard- Wait!

 

*Shit.*

 

Guard- Won't you be needing to take the prisoner down to profiling?

 

*"Will we?"*

 

Drury- Yes, of course.

 

Guard- You're new aren't you? Just one floor down.

 

Selina- *Thank* you.

 

====Five Minutes Later=====

 

"Name?"

 

*I look at Norbert, can't give anything anyway, not now*

 

Drury- Uh... Carson. Ted Carson.

 

*The processing agent doesn't look *too* convinced. You couldn't think of any thing else, could you?*

 

Drury- *Ahem* He's recently resurrected.

 

Selina- Yeah, I hear he does that a lot, doesn't he "Cameron"?

 

Drury- Sure does. He's a slippery customer.

 

*Norbert nods*

 

Guard- Fine. Whatever. Just need a psych eval. Urgh... Through here

 

*Thoughts race through their heads. Norbert looks into the distance, lost. Selina braces herself "He's getting out of his booth. Goddamn it Walker, this isn't going to work" while Drury hopes to god the two of them will stay calm.

The guard takes the three of them to a small room, and knocks on the door*

 

Guard- Prof, got some fresh meat

 

"Thank you. That will be all gentlemen, lady. Good afternoon, Mr "Carson," shall we begin?"

 

*Collectively all three think to themselves "Shit," as Norbert is left at Hugo Strange's mercy*

 

====Half an hour later=====

 

Selina- This has gone too far, Strange knows.

 

Drury- What are we supposed to do? We can still salvage this.

 

Selina- You sure you can trust him with Strange?

 

...

 

Selina- Like I told Miranda, I lived with Batman, who, if you didn't know, has got files on *everyone*. Didn't make the connection back at the cave, but, he's your brother, right?

 

Drury- I trust him.

 

Selina- Do you even *know* him?

 

Drury- I...

 

Selina- I'm going in there.

 

*I grab her arm*

 

Drury- Have faith.

 

Selina- He's a wreck, he'll-

 

Strange- - Thank you for your time, "Mr Carson" most insightful. You may take him away.

 

*Strange's eyes meet Drury's for a second- or so it seems, it's almost impossible to tell with those shades Strange insists on wearing... and then, the office door closes*

 

Drury- Norbert, what did he-

 

Wasp- Nothing. He just stared, and wrote. And then, as he finished he just said "I'm impressed"

 

Selina- That was it-?

 

Wasp- Yes.

 

Drury- Well, um, good. Let's get moving.

 

====Ten Minutes Later====

 

*The journey back upstairs is... uncomfortable. Selina doesn't trust Norbert, and I don't know if he likes her or not... And then there's the file. Strange could have ratted us out, but didn't. He could be working with Ra's, sure, but then you'd have thought he'd have notified someone- anyone. He's made it easy, and that's not exactly comforting.... So these must be the holding cells... God. Imagining Chuck, Ten, Len... all of them, stuck in those for however long- those stains could be their blood for all I know. Animals. Lock-Up's above there somewhere too. I know he is. And there they are. A set of steel doors, over fifteen feet tall.*

 

Drury- 'This the insertion chamber?

 

*My question is met by a nearby inmate*

 

Inmate- You bastard!

 

Drury- Wait, I-

 

*He... They spat on me*

 

Inmate- You're sending us out there to die! You bastards, you fuckin'-

 

Guard- That's enough, inmate. They get riled you see, just have to let them know who's in charge.

 

*He says it with his hand wrapped around the poor bugger's throat*

 

Guard- So what the hell is that supposed to be?

 

*He says, raising a podgy finger at Norbert*

 

Drury- New inmate.

 

Guard- Ugly. You, uh, should go to medical.

 

Drury- Why's that?

 

*He pulls me in close, and Norbert moves that little bit closer too*

 

Guard- Them wings, that's what. A bit of the *snip* *snip* if you catch my drift.

 

Drury- Yeah... I catch your drift.

 

*One punch does the trick. He'll live. He's not who matters here.*

 

Drury- Are you OK? Norbert, are you-

 

Wasp- Yes. Yes, but you-

 

Selina- We can talk ethics later... We have to go.

 

RIOT IN INSERTION CHAMBER B! RIOT IN INSERTION CHAMBER B! RIOT IN INSERTION CHAM-

 

*A large iron shutter covers the gates while six more guards head out from their barracks. Selina grabs a cannister off her belt, and hurls it into their chambers*

 

Selina- This way! We'll use the sewers!

 

*God, she can run fast. And Norbert can fly fast... Either that or I'm really out of shape... The walls are adorned with weapons and costumes of every single inmate, so believe me when I say there's a lot there... We've evaded them, for now anyway, into another wing of the holding cells, but it won't be long until- Is someone slurping-?*

 

"How lovely. Visitors. And today of all days."

 

*The inmate drops his cup to the ground, a faint smile on his face

 

Julian- October Seventh. National Frappe Day. Silly, I know, but Officer Davies insisted, and, well, there's only so much you *can* celebrate, in here.

   

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The Bank of Gotham building, Park Row. After the Great Depression, it was one of many branches to fall into disrepair. Decades later, it’s the site of a coin counterfeiting operation, one he'd been tracking for months. Nothing much is known about the leader, only his self-imposed title. The Penny Plunderer, the last remnant of Kuttler's network. There was always someone who'd slip through the cracks, wasn't there?

Bruce had told Jason he could go this alone. The boy needed to stay focused on his grades at the moment, which were slipping. He's much more reckless than Dick ever was, both Alfred and Bruce saw that.

 

Bruce sat atop the roof, surveying the room. Six targets, two armed. In the center of the room stood what must have been the ringleader, clad in a green suit. Bruce was ready for an introduction.

 

Leaping into the air, his feet smashed through the building's skylight, the glass stopping them from being able to look up. Bruce lands on his feet, the fall broken with his cape. His eyes lock onto the first gunman, already spraying bullets. After rolling towards him, Bruce deals him a kick to the shins. The second tries his luck, but a batarang flies into the muzzle, jamming the gun. By the time he deals with the remaining four men, the Plunderer is halfway down the fire escape.

 

'He's faster than he looks,' notes Bruce in his mind, watching the man make his way towards the Monarch Theater. Bruce bursts through the back door, dashing past horrified civilians. 'I need to secure the crime scene for Gordon's men, but I can't let him get away. I can't let him-'

 

"Bruce?"

 

Bruce's feet plant onto the ground as he hears the familiar voice call out. His head turns to the origin… to see his mother. He looks around, realizing his location.

 

Crime Alley. He brought him to Crime Alley.

 

'Crane…' Bruce deduces to himself. He swiftly reaches to the back of his utility belt, pulling out the vial of his fear-toxin antidote. After taking the serum, he turns to chase.

 

"Bruce, did you enjoy the movie?" His mother asks, causing his eyes to narrow.

 

'The toxin's effects should have worn off by now…'

 

"I would certainly hope so, Martha." Responds his father with a slight chuckle. He then turned his attention to Bruce. "He's only been begging for weeks…" His father's tone taking on a hint of irritation.

 

'This is perverted. Bruce thought to himself, staring at his parents. 'If not Crane, this is the work of another psychopath, Tetch, perhaps.' Bruce turns from his parents, already seeing the man walking towards them. 'Whoever they are, I won’t let them manipulate me, manipulate my memories. Not again.

 

"Hands up! I want wallets, cash. Put ‘em on the ground. And I’ll take those pearls too, lady." The man's hand visibly shook holding the gun. His free hand was held outwards to grab the pearls around Martha's neck.

 

“Do you think this frightens me? Do you think you can trick me, or haunt me? I’ve seen this nightmare every time I’ve fought Scarecrow! I hear my mother’s scream every time I close my eyes! Sometimes… Sometimes I’ll be washing my hands, and I won’t stop, because deep down, I’m still trying to wash off my parent’s blood. The simple truth is, they’ll never be clean, and I, I will never be free. So whatever twisted game you thought you had planned? It ends now. It ends tonight. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

 

Bruce reaches into his belt, pulling out a batarang. Raising his arm, he takes aim at the mugger and-

 

THUD

 

The batarang falls from Bruce's hand, making a clang sound as it hits the concrete. His eyes widen as he watches his father tackle the mugger.

 

-~-~-

 

Screams. That was the first thing Clark could hear upon arriving in Gotham. The city looked brutal from above. The world was in a global epidemic, and Gotham's underworld took the message loud and clear.

 

Open for Business.

 

He was currently flying through the air, looking for any signs of Bruce. The White Martians were playing on nightmarish memories, and boy did Bruce probably have a box set of those.

 

'He isn't at the Batcave, nor Wayne Enterprises… so where-' While lost in thought, Clark nearly crashes into an incoming hang glider. He narrowly dodges it, not used to sharing the airspace. As he flew past, he heard a faint, "Hell Yeah!" 'Must've been a thrill seeker.' Clark thinks to himself, shaking his head.

 

Suddenly a shriek catches his ear. A little girl. Turning his head towards the noise, he uses his x-ray vision to locate the victim.

 

Springer Apartment Complex, fourth floor. There was one man, a knife in hand, and a hostage. He couldn't just stand idle and let it happen, he needed to act.

 

He quickly shot through the window, hitting the attacker with enough force to knock him into the wall. He falls to the ground with a thud. Clark's eyes widen as a smell enters his nostrils.

 

Blood.

 

He turns his head, looking towards the girl. Taking a step forward, she skooches back a bit. Clark takes a knee, gently holding his hand out to her. "It's alright." He promises, a smile donning his face. The girl, no older than fifteen, hesitates. While staying in the position, he kept the smile on his face. She eventually reached out, placing her shaky hand atop his firm one.

 

"You, good sir, have just ruined my supper!" The voice behind him shrieked. It sent a chill down his spine, the victim falling into his chest trembling.

 

The attacker was bald, save for a few tufts of orange hair. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his teeth glowed a disturbing, stained yellow in the moonlight.

 

Clark ignores the man, hugging the girl closer, whispering calming words to her. He floats his body out of the window he broke through and up to the building's roof. Placing her on the surface, he assures her he'd return momentarily. He returns inside, staring at the attacker.

 

Quickly wrapping chains around him, hoping it would hold, he turns his head towards the smell once more. "Manners cost nothing, Superman."

 

"Quiet." He replies, stepping towards the smell. He approaches the kitchen seeing a saucepan on the stove's front right burner. Taking a closer look, his eyes widened.

 

Body parts.

 

"Y-your… supper?"

 

The man lets out a small chuckle. "I find a good human heart to be just the thing I need before I go to bed," he explains, his eyes twitching, his tongue swirling around his mouth. "Cornelius Stirk. Batman must have mentioned me."

 

Clark shakes his head. "Never."

 

"Then you won't know about my gift! The heart, not only being an excellent source of protein, also augments my Metahuman powers. You see, sir, I can trick lesser minds into coming here willingly, by projecting an image of who they trust most. That girl? She trusted you, a lot! After tonight... I don't think she'll trust you ever again!"

 

Clark felt guiltiness enter him for a moment, before turning to leave. "You're… that's… disgusting."

 

"Hmph, I think it's delicious."

 

Clark leaves the area, holding the girl and making a detour for the GCPD. Placing her outside, he tells the officer a quick rundown before turning to leave. He spots Gordon inside, the two exchanging a nod. A silent message translated.

 

"Find him, for me".

 

As Clark takes off, landing in another street, he still sees the images of Stirk's abattoir. The fear in the child's eyes. He understood. He understood why Gotham needed Batman… now, more than ever. Alas, he does his best to stop the rioting.

 

A lot of them are dressed in various costumes, Bruce's rogues gallery hosting quite the range. 'Bizzare…' Is Clark's only thought looking at the group. A bald man was hurling eggs at a storefront, dressed in a pristine white suit. Another, sporting a bright pink wig, was exiting a candy store, his shirt tucking over dozens of chocolates.

 

"That's enough." His voice booms with a commanding, yet calm tone. All of the rioters take a single look at him, dashing away and dispersing into alleyways.

 

'Bruce is somewhere… but where?'

 

His thoughts are answered as a thin man in a green suit comes stumbling out of an alleyway. He was screaming in-between his deep huffs of air. "The Bat's gone nuts! He's gone nuts!"

 

"Found you."

 

-~-~-

 

The Monarch Theater. He was eight years old again. His father had finally relinquished, taking the boy to see "The Mark of Zorro," a film both of his parents had grown up on. It was a perfect night, up until they exited the building. They were stopped, in the chill of the night, by a mugger. The man held them at gunpoint in the alley, demanding his mother's pearl necklace. His father tried to diligently reason with him, but his patience only ran so thin.

 

A hour later, the man was lying beaten on the ground. His father was wiping the blood from his knuckles as he answered the questions asked by the cops. His mother held him from behind, gently wrapping her arms around him and swaying side to side. The man in the young body gripped his mother's hand tightly.

 

He saw it. He saw his future, running his father's company. He saw himself meeting a beautiful woman. Falling in love. Getting married. Having children of his own. He saw happiness, for the first time in a long time.

 

'I'm going to be happy.'

 

His mother, who was gently stroking his head suddenly stopped. He turned his head, looking at her sadly smiling at him. She then began to fade away, electing Bruce to reach out to her.

 

"Bruce…"

 

Turning, he spots Superman, looking down to him. The young Bruce tilts his head to the side, in an inquisitive manner. "Wh-what? Clark?"

 

Clark watches the boy, his eyes boring into him. "It isn't real." The boy's face drops, his head facing downward. Like a glitch in a system, his body starts to distort.

 

"B-but…"

 

Clark places a hand on his shoulder. "Bruce, you know it isn't real."

 

The glitching stopped. In front of Clark now stood a man in a grey suit, a long black cape strapped over his shoulders. His head was adorned with a bat-shaped cowl. "I know. I…" Bruce's fist clenched as he closed his eyes. "I just… wanted to pretend. Even if it was only for a little while."

 

Clark simply nodded. He knew what it was like. To wonder about the life he never had. The life where Krypton was never destroyed. The life growing up with Jor-El, and Lara, playing fetch with Krypto, sneaking out with Kara to play games. It was something he'd dream about, but it wasn't a dream he wanted to obtain. He was living his dream. Meeting Lois, and Lana. Pete and Jimmy. Being raised by Ma and Pa. If Krypton hadn't been destroyed he wouldn't have met those wonderful people. He wouldn't have fallen in love, and he wouldn't have Jon.

 

"You can honour your parents, honour all of them, the same way you always have. By fighting. Fighting with everything that you’ve got, just like always. That’s what makes you special, that’s why they came after you, because you’ve never given up. Not against Blackfire, not against Scarecrow, and certainly not from us damn aliens"

 

Bruce lets off a smirk. "Of course not." Bruce lifts himself to a stand, Clark's hand grasped tightly. "Thank you." Whatever the nightmare was, he was glad. Glad that Clark was there to help him. He'd never admit it to him, but he wouldn't have anyone else at his side.

 

'J'onn, you can add Bruce to the link and pull us out.'

 

'I am sorry Superman, but I do not have the ability to pull you out of the mind. The psychosis state should destabilize itself.'

 

'Then what's-'

 

BANG

 

Clark stumbled back as the gunshot rang throughout the alleyway. His hand moved to his stomach, where a striking pain had hit. His fingers were warm. Moving them to his eye level, he saw blood. "That's… that's not good."

 

'Superman, in the psychosis state, the failsafe will have a direct means of harming you. You must take precautions.'

 

"That means that everything thrown at me is gonna be Kryptonite." He looks to Bruce, staring at the wound. He had gotten a little too used to being bulletproof. "In the real world, that would've cost me."

 

"Leaving? Oh, so soon? He. He. He."

 

The voice sent chills down Clark's spine. It was so gleeful, but so… unnerving at the same time. "That… that laugh? Is that Joker?"

 

Bruce's eyes were wide, his body stiff. "No," he spoke, his voice barely breaking a whisper. "Not Joker."

 

"Clearly someone lied about their resume… 'Faster than a speeding bullet?' my ass." The figure ginned as he chuckled, walking forward. His yellow, horrendous teeth were now exposed.

 

'It has to be him, there isn't anyone else it could be.' Clark thought to himself. Turning to Bruce. "Bruce, if not Joker… who is he?"

 

Clark watched as Bruce turned his head. Through the open mouth, he saw his friend's face pale, all the color being drained. "M-me. It's me."

 

"Say, when I'm done here, how about we visit your friends in the GCPD, and relieve them of duty? With all the outsourcing Gordon does, he's clearly not up to the task! I'm telling you, maybe the old guard had the right idea, bribes, bribes, bribes. With your checkbook, we could solve all crime in the city! And the ones that don't play ball? Well, we *did* need to recalibrate the Batwing's targeting software, didn't we? The ward can stay, mind. Every clown needs a harlequin."

 

The creature had Bruce's face, but his grin, his twisted sense of humour. Ever since Bruce first met Joker, this was what frightened him most.

 

What if all my fears, all my paranoia and anger drove me to become the very monsters I've been fighting since I was eight? There was nothing. No contingency I'd prepared that could possibly stop me. Alfred, Jim, Lucius, Dick, Jason, Barbara… all of them… targets. None of them… safe.

 

"Bruce, you aren't him! Understand? Clark yelled out as he swung at the fake Batman. He simply laughed, showing a glowing green knife into Clark's gut.

 

"All that Kryptonite… knew it'd come in handy one of these days. And to think, I stockpiled it in case you went rogue!" The laughter, filled with pure and unbridled malice consuming the alley.

 

"I don't… I don't know what created the Joker, Bruce…" Spoke Clark, kneeling with the knife still in his gut. He coughed up blood before speaking again. "Maybe he was always evil. Maybe he thinks what he's doing is right. It could've all happened with one bad day… I don't know."

 

The Laughing Batman kicked him in the head, sending him flat onto his back. Clark wheezed in pain, before looking at Bruce.

 

"But I do know… know you. You're strong. Stronger than… than you even know. You live with this… This burden everyday. Living with the burden so you can make sure others don't have to."

 

The Laughing Batman stepped down hard into the knife, digging it ever so deeper into Clark's abdomen. Clark bit his lip to suppress the cry of pain.

 

"That's… that's what makes you different. It's what separates you two. He let… the world break him. But you? You… you never will."

 

Bruce felt a single tear exit his eye. "That's all I needed to hear."

 

"You're right, Clark. You don't know. No one does. The Joker lives off pain, and death, but above all, he thrives on mystery. That's what terrifies Gotham, that's what terrifies me. He's an unpredictable, unrelenting psychopath. I can't predict him," Bruce begins to march forward, a batarang in his hand. "But I can predict me." The Laughing Batman pulls the knife out of Clark's abdomen, aiming it toward Bruce.

 

'The newest batsuit has five main weak points. I sacrificed armour in favour of flexibility.'

 

He goes for the arm tendons first, lacerating them and causing him to drop the kryptonite blade. Bruce quickly scoops it up, dropping it in a lead lined pouch. Clark would be regaining his strength soon now. Bruce then went for the knees, leaving two deep stab winds at the joints. Finally, the last weak point is the mouth.

 

Bruce swings, as hard as he can. The Laughing Bat's teeth shatter on impact, causing him to fall backwards.

 

"You're nothing!" It rasps through broken teeth. "Jusssssstice? The laaaaaw? Haha! You're just a bad joke! And you're just delaying the inevitable!"

 

"No. No! I am Vengeance. I am the Night. And above all-" Bruce yells, with a punch that cracks the fake's cowl apart. "I. Am. Batman!"

 

A sudden explosion of a blinding, stark white light occurs. Everything around Bruce fades away, an abyss of darkness being his only surrounding. He looks down to his hands, noticing them begin to fade.

 

"Even if it was my dream… everything I thought I ever wanted." He looks back to the ground, a tall shadow in the shape of a bat under his legs. "I wouldn't give this up. Never in a million years."

 

-----------------------------

 

Make sure you're following King Clown for the final two issues of Justice League, coming soon!

Volume 1 - Origin of Powerhouse: Issue #10

Flicker Fighters

 

Firelighter begins to stir after being rammed through the door. For a brief moment Ben contemplates bringing his sword down on him but scolds himself for even contemplating it. Instead, he runs, seeing the ceiling beginning to crumble and crack. Ben makes his way to the window and uses the hilt of his blade to smash the glass. It explodes into glistening shards which sprinkle the ground outside. With a hesitant glance Ben looks down at the fire engines and crowd of onlookers. It must’ve been a 20ft drop down. With his weight in the armour it would be a fatal fall. The alternative, is to fight a Metahuman with flamethrower hands. Not to mention the fact they were in firefighter gear and well acclimated to the napalm environment around them both. Even with the fresh air and cool breeze from outside Ben was cooking inside his armour. He could feel his skin blistering and cracking under his armour. The heat was intense and his sweat was starting to sizzle against his skin. His lungs were being choked and his eyes were burning up. So much so his cheeks were streaming with tears. Leaving clean trails on his soot covered cheeks.

 

He notices Firelighter getting to his feet and his fingertips begin to dance with flames once more. Ben grimaces and looks back outside and at the drop. He could make out a few faces in the crowd, but couldn’t see his Mum. She wasn’t in her office. Luckily, she hadn’t bumped into Firelighter either as he too was approaching her door. There were other exits outside so he knew if she was still in the building she’d be able to make it safely out, as would the others. The only way out was to either fight Firelighter and make his way through a burning corridor or jump from the window.

 

Ben: “Goddamn it.”

 

Ben takes a sharp inhale, and steps one foot out the window. He clings to the side of the window frame. After mustering the courage to bring his other leg out, he lets go and falls from the building. Flames spray out from the window as he descends and Ben yells in a panic. He had an idea in mind before he jumped but it still didn’t stop him from being scared. Quickly, he grips both hands on the hilt of his blade and drives the metal into the side of building. Much to his luck, it cuts deep into the brick and tears through the foundation. Ben yells in pain, feeling the muscles of his arms stretch from the strain of holding onto sword. His sword continues to slice its way down as he comes to a slow stop. He hears people scream for him as he dangles from the hilt of his sword. Ben’s arms tremble from effort and his biceps spasm with pain. He looks down at the ground, just a 10ft drop. Thankfully, he sees firemen extending a ladder out towards him. He didn’t know what would happen to Firelighter but he didn’t really care at this point in time.

 

Peering through the ceiling beams, I can see he's on the phone with someone. I can't hear them, but I do hear Cobblepot.

 

Cobblepot: (Translated from German) "What do you mean? You told me it would be ready! It better be ready in the next 12 hours or it will be you in the test!"

 

Silent. I assume whoever's on the other side is trying to come up with an excuse. And based off Cobblepot's expression, he's not liking it.

 

Cobblepot: "Do not give me your petty excuses! Give me progress! Or else!" (Angrily hangs up phone and starts pacing, muttering under his breath.)

 

What was he referring to? Something going to be tested. Most likely some sort of weapon. But if it is a weapon, why would the person on the other line have to be in the test? Unless they're testing... People. Of course! The recent metahuman activity must be from Hydra! They're giving people powers, and testing them to weaponize them! But then what were the... Oh no. If my theory is correct, and his plan goes smoothly, then we could be in big trouble. I need to get Nighthawk and report this to S.H.I.E.L.D. immediately! I start to leave when suddenly the phone rings. I stop, as this may be important.

 

Cobblepot: (Translated from German) "What is it?" (Pause) "What!?" (Long pause as he cautiously looks around.) "I see. Deal with it then." (Hangs up quietly and silently walks through a doorway and out of sight.)

 

Hmm. Odd. He seemed a lot more.. concerned. And he was looking around as if something were here. As if we were here. Just then I hear a really fake "Ca-caw! Ca-caw!" Nighthawk must be signaling. Which means he's been found. Do I go back that way and risk being caught, or stay hidden and hope they didn't see me? Then I'll be able to free him unnoticed if he's capt-

 

Nighthawk: "Oof!"

 

I go back jut in time to see Nighthawk fall from the beams and onto a table, breaking it. After the cloud of dust clears, I shift my gaze upwards and see- a glint. Sudden memories rush through my mind. A dark alleyway. The nuzzle of a gun. BANG! My father falling in slow motion.

 

Martha: "NOOO!"

 

BANG! My mother falls slowly, her bloodstained pearls bouncing away from her lifeless body. I look up and see the monster in a trenchcoat running away. As he runs, underneath his sleeve I see a glint. I regain focus and-

 

Batman: "Ugh!"

 

Sharp pain in my left shoulder. The glint.. It's Deadshot. Looking at my shoulder, I notice a dart sticking out. Hopefully... it's a... tranquilizer.

 

Batman: "Y- you-...."

(Falls off the beams to the ground, unconscious.)

 

-----------------------------------

I realize that I haven't posted the final two 18th Century Rogues, so I'll get on that. I just get caught up writing all the different things. Anyways, thanks for reading. Feel free to criticize if you found something off, and have a great day!

A blast of electricity soared through the sky, webbing out into multiple projectiles. The red and black figure known as Spider-Man noticed, choosing to dive towards the attack. Pulling in his arms and legs, conforming his body into that of a bullet, soared through the gaps of electricity, startling the attacker, Electro.

  

Spider-Man, the costumed hero known by many, but secretly the forgettable Peter Parker, senior in college. Today was Graduation day, Peter's ceremony starting in mere minutes, though an attack from the villainous Sinister Six caused a delay.

  

Doctor Otto Octavius, the brilliant scientist and bioengineer, now known as Doctor Octopus. Corrupted by his need for research and knowledge.

  

Quinten Beck, the former number one special effects artist in Hollywood and praised stuntman. Using the moniker of Mysterio for fame and glory.

  

Adrian Toomes, a once amazing engineer who fell victim to Norman Osborn's greed. Now adorning his winged-suit, Toomes became what Norman berated him as, the Vulture.

  

William Baker, a discharged marine exposed to highly radioactive sand, altering his body at the atomic level. Now broken by his own decisions, the Sandman lives.

  

Sergei Kravinoff, a renowned Big Game Hunter who has made it his life's goal to take down Spider-Man. With his equipment and enhanced strength, he became Kraven the Hunter.

  

Max Dillon, an ex-Oscorp electrical engineer who was given metahuman abilities when a capacitor malfunctioned and exploded. Motivated by his lust for power, Electro was born.

  

Peter's curled back arm shot forward as he reached Dillon, the connecting punch sending him flying towards the ground. Flipping mid-air and launching a line of webbing, the hero pulled himself to a nearby rooftop.

  

"Gotta work on your aim, Zappy," he shouted down to the man, who was recovering from the hit. "Those A.O.E shots aren't doing you any good."

  

"Then allow me," boomed a voice, an echo effect trailing the words.

  

Peter turned his head to a large figure rising from the ground, smoke encapsulating him only revealing a clear crystal dome.

  

Peter quickly leapt off the building, diving headfirst into the large body of mass. Once he breached the figure, his body hit an object inside. Tumbling out of the smoky object were Peter and Mysterio. The two rolled along the street before Peter leapt up onto his feet.

  

"C'mon," quipped Peter, rolling his shoulder, "don't you think I know all the tricks in that fishbowl by now?"

  

Peter moved his hand out, reaching for the magenta cape that the helmeted villain wore. As his hand made contact, volts of electricity ran up his arm, causing him to leap back. Peter looked down to the now fried web shooter on his right wrist, then looked back to Beck.

  

"Electrified cape," announced Beck, taking a bow as he stood. "Pair it with a simple carbon monoxide to dull your senses and it becomes a rather deadly combination."

  

"Yeeep," groaned Peter, still in pain from the defense. "Edna would be proud."

  

Beck chuckled, "I'll actually miss some of the banter we have. Too bad it's your end."

  

As Beck lifted his arm, a small canon raised from his gauntlet. Peter quickly moved his hand forward, using his broken web shooter. The moment the device was activated webs blasted out of the nozzle in a large triangle, Beck being launched backwards with webs covering him head to toe.

  

"Huh, didn't think that would work," mumbled Peter, discarding the broken shooter.

  

The sound of wind rushing behind him caused Peter to turn, barely dodging the dive-bomb attack from Vulture. Peter recovered from the roll, watched as the winged man soared around in the air.

  

"Hey, Adrian?" he called out, not hoping for a response. "Little bit of a warning next time? You could've taken my head off."

  

"That's the idea!" shouted Toomes, diving back in for another strike.

  

Peter once again rolled out of the way, this time recovering quicker and launching a webline onto the man. With a harsh pull, Toomes came crashing down into the concrete of the road.

  

"That's a clay pigeon if I've ever seen one," noted Peter before feeling something on his feet. Looking down, his eyes widened at the sight of sand swirling around him. "Oh shit."

  

A hand made of sand burst from the pile, grabbing onto Peter by the ankles. As it began to drag him, the voice of Sandman rang through the street, "Tough luck, Spider."

  

The hand eventually dragged Peter to a mound of sand, replacing Baker's legs. The hand pulled Peter to be face to face with Baker, the hero hung upside down.

  

"Alright, Marko…" before Peter could finish his sentence, the hand began to fling him around, crashing into buildings and objects on the street.

  

Peter felt pain shoot through his body with each moment of impact. He tried to look around, only having seconds before his body was slammed against something else, hoping to find something to use against the enemy. His eyes lit up upon seeing the red cylindrical object protruding from the sidewalk.

  

"Hey Marko!" he shouted, the man stopping for a moment to hear his words. "Drink up!"

  

Baker tilted his head in confusion, until Peter pulled his extended arm towards him. His eyes widened as his head turned to the right, only for a jetstream of water to blast him away.

  

Peter was dropped to the floor as the wet sand began to crawl back to its originator. He was able to stretch his back, but as he did footsteps were heard behind him.

  

Peter openly sighed, "Queue the jungle music."

  

As he turned, Kraven the Hunter stood, spear in hand and slight smirk on his face. "I'm glad you know of my presence," noted Kravinoff, readying his spear. "It makes you that much more of the ultimate prey."

  

"Your presence?" Peter asked, slowly matching Kravinoff's movements of circling each other. "It's just deductive reasoning, not like Otto is gonna be second to last to show himself."

  

"Doctor Octavius will not get the chance to show himself," announced the man, rushing forward in the blink of an eye. "You'll already be mounted on my wall!"

  

Peter sidestepped from the spear attack, narrowly ducking the follow-up swing. His arm shot forward, Kravinoff backpedaling from the swing. Twirling the spear, the hunter jutted his weapon forward, attempting to stab Peter directly in the stomach. Peter intercepted the spear, slamming his elbow down onto the wood and breaking it in half. Kraven quickly adapted, breaking the metal tip of the spear off, creating two batons. Peter raised his forearms, using them as shields from the various fast strikes coming his way.

  

"So… um…" stumbled Peter, trying to throw off his opponent. "How's the brother?"

  

"Dimitri," Kravinoff started, ducking under Peter's attack, "will be broken out of prison as soon as you are dealt with."

  

Kravinoff then swung both of the batons inwards, striking Peter on each side of his abdomen. With an upwards strike, the batons performed an uppercut-like attack, hitting Peter under his chin. As Peter stumbled back, Kravinoff removed a carving knife from his back. As he took a step forward, Peter stopped his dramatic recovery. Shooting a web to the dropped batons and pulling on them.

  

As Kraven was tripped and hit the ground, Peter shot a large web onto him. "Nice attempt," he noted, much to the dismay of the webbed villain. "Might've worked too if your boss wasn't incompetent."

  

As he spoke, he felt his Spider-Sense return to him at full force. Before he could react, a claw gripped around his back, lifting him into the air. As the claw rotated, Peter could see Doctor Octopus staring him down.

  

"Oh," Peter wheezed, the claw gripping him straining his breathing, "hai, Otto. How've you been?"

  

"An incompetent boss," spoke Octavius, his expression non-altering, "as you would say."

  

Peter nervously chuckled, "Well, you did send them at me one at a time."

  

"You may be agile," noted Octavius, shifting his arms to move him towards Kravinoff, "but your stamina will eventually run out."

  

"Should've discussed that one with your mom, Otto," spoke Peter, hoping to antagonize the man. "She could've told you… I last as long as I need to."

  

Octavius grit his teeth, "Well then, let us see how you do in round six."

  

Peter was dropped from the grasp, gasping for a few seconds. His eyes watched Octavius cut the webbing, freeing Kravinoff as well as Beck. Baker returned, a few still wet clumps of sand, but fully reformed, while Toomes and Dillon levitated in the sky.

  

"Oookaaay," laughed Peter, slightly rubbing the back of his head. "So… anyone up for ones?"

Wonder Woman, a United States government agent for the Department of Metahuman Affairs, DC Comics.

 

Supanova Expo, Sydney Olympic Park, Sydney, Australia (Saturday 18 June 2016)

===Van Cleer Manor===

 

*She leads them through the corridors, unfazed by the undead Assassins. Every time one launches itself at her, it's down in seconds. They walk over a greyish puddle on the ground- the Talon's "blood," dionysium. At first too scared to speak, Sharpe swallows, and gently taps her on the shoulder*

 

Chancer- Hey. So... did Batman send you?

 

*Cass turns and nods. Sharpe sighs, relieved. "Good, good," he mutters*

 

Chancer- Are there more of you? I like your style, but there are hundreds of those things

 

Cass- Just me.

 

Chancer- ... Great.

 

*Axel is quick to elbow him in the ribs*

 

Axel- Hey, Cass is one of the best fighters in the world, and- The acid gun?

 

*Cass nods again*

 

Axel- That... I wasn't going to use it on people! ... Or the Flash! Stop staring at me. Hey-!

 

*Cass takes the gun from him and empties it onto the ground, burning a hole in the floor. Kitten whispers in Cass' ear*

 

Kitten- He was Cassie, he definitely was. Y'know full on "Fwash is gonna pay!"

 

Axel- Oh shut up. ... Where we going now?

 

*Cass stops and gestures at a pair of steel doors*

 

Cass- Bunker.

 

*Sharpe runs in immediately "Hey, they've got cartoons," he yells delightedly, sitting next to Cammy*

 

Axel- We just- We just left the bunker!

 

Cass- Go back. I have this.

 

*Axel pauses, but knowing better than to argue, slinks away*

 

Chancer- I mean, *I* believe her.

 

======

 

*Miranda stands alone, Talon bodies lying everywhere. Some, just some, stir. She grabs one, and pulls a sword to it's throat*

 

Miranda- I want to know everything.

 

Talon- You know nothing! We would die before we talk!

 

Miranda- Fine.

 

*She rams her sword through it's neck, and it splutters, before finally, dying*

 

Miranda- Anyone else?

 

*Cobb, rises from the floor*

 

Talon- There's no need for that Ms Walker. Or is it Ms Gaige? You, are a worthy opponent. You have bested twelve of the Court's greatest Talons- including myself. And as such, I will tell you everything you want to know.

You see, the Court has ruled Gotham from its- well, you'll know the rhyme I'm sure, for centuries. But, in the past five years, that has all changed. Ever since the Batman exposed us, there have been those who would seek to depose us. Each year we stood our ground, and each year we grew weaker. And then, nearly two years ago, the Secret Society of Supervillains activated a chemical weapon, here, in Gotham. They smoked us out, and we found ourselves fighting creatures we had never seen before. Their metahuman lackeys. These outsiders came to Gotham, and nearly destroyed us. So we changed our approach. We needed to take a step back and re-evaluate our position. I reached out to an old ally of ours- we *would* regain our power.

 

*Miranda pauses. "Twag... He was... Fuck's sake, he was working for you? Everything he did-"*

 

Talon- And will do? Yes. Your husband, he was the problem. So long as he tried to clean up Gotham, we could never retake the city. Twag hated him- perhaps unjustifiably so, and from the ruins of the Mirror House, he found himself a weapon, a relic of the first Injustice Society. Walker's brother. With him, we had Walker imprisoned for murder, and Twag primed to replace him, squeezing pressure on the regent, Grange, bit by bit until she too could be removed. Twag's errors in judgement killed him, and Grange stayed in power. But we got what we wanted. A mayor we could control.

 

Miranda- She's dirty?

 

Talon- Worse. She's idealistic. She wanted Gotham's Streets clean of criminals, and our partners are quite pleased with the result. Arkham City.

 

Miranda- And?

 

Talon- And what Ms Gaige?

 

Miranda- Who's that new Moth? Your leader.

 

Talon- Heh... Hehe... Our leader? That's... Amusing.

 

Miranda- I'm not joking. He threw my husband through a wall, now who is he?

 

Talon- You haven't been listening. I already told you, Assassin.

 

Miranda- No... Not him.

 

*She runs down the corridor. Cobb sits down, tired, and he patches his wound*

 

Talon- See you soon...

 

====

 

His name was Daniel "Danto" Twag. His family came to Gotham over 30 years ago. He reached out to The Falcone Crime Family in an attempt to make a name for himself, and was inducted into their inner circle. He organised hits for the Mob, which were carried out by Drury Walker and Garfield Lynns. Lynns, an pyrotechnics expert, was searching for new opportunities to test his tech. Walker was in it to support his family, though as time went on, he learned to love the spotlight. As Firefly and Killer Moth, the two eventually split from the mob to form their own gang, and caught the attention of other "C-List" criminals when they burned the GCPD down. When Lynns left, Twag tracked down an old friend of his- Ted Carson, to carry on the mantle of Firefly. His reign was short lived. With the police on the Mob's scent, and vengeful over the destruction of their Precinct, Falcone ordered Twag's death. Instead, fate had other ideas, and Twag was introduced to the Court of Owls. For ten years, he travelled the world, learning their ways, but he never forgot the men who destroyed his reputation, one day vowing to do the same.

But... Danto Twag, was dead. Drury knew this, or had guessed as much. Yet there he was. Pale, yes, but still standing. And in a Killer Moth suit no less*

 

Drury- How? How is this possible, I- ... Talon gunk, I guess. You know what, I don't care.

 

*He had dreamt of this moment, every night in Blackgate. He had wished for it every day in Arkham. Face to face with the man who had kicked him out of office, left him at the mercy of the Music Meister, stolen from him, and hurt his family. Hurt Gar. Hurt Miranda. Hurt Axel. Hurt Kitten, and Simon and Cammy. And he had hurt Norbert. The things he'd say.... The things he'd do... There was no one else he wanted to suffer more than Twag, but here he was. And he was... damaged*

 

Drury- All that time... All that pain... Look at me. Fuck, look at you. You made me half a man. I can't fight. I can't run. I... Come on, say something! Can you even hear me?

 

*He says nothing. He just... stands. Emotionless. A blade popped out of Twag's gauntlet*

 

Twag- Drury Walker. The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.

 

Drury- I'll bet. Just... What's your name.

 

*He, maybe "it," pauses*

 

Twag- I have no name. Drury Walker. The Court of Owls have sentenced-

 

Drury- Yeah. Yeah, you do, so stop that. Your name is Danto Twag. You're a right pain in my arse, but you have a name. The other Talons remember. Don't tell me you can't.

 

*Twag's blade retracts back into it's casing. He looks confused*

 

Twag- I have no name. Drury Walker. The Court of Owls-

 

Drury- Gar Lynns. Miranda Gaige. Drury Walker. Norbert. Ringing a bell? Twag?

 

...

 

Twag- I... I have no- I'm a servant of the Court of Owls, and they have sentenced you to-

 

Drury- Black Mask. Bill Garth. Tarantula and Ono.

 

Twag- THEY HAVE SENTENCED YOU TO-!

 

Drury- Falcone. Carson. Carmen Pike and Bridget.

 

Twag- Carmen... You... Where is she?

 

Drury- Dead. You killed her. Last year.

 

Twag- No... it was... you! You made me- What do you mean last... last...

 

*Twag looks at his twisted reflection in the shards of broken glass, and recoils in horror*

 

Twag- What-? What have they done to me? They've turned me into one of *them,* a freak, a monster like Wasp.

 

*Drury looked at him, crawling about on the ground. Pity. That's what he felt. And just a little bit of anger*

 

Drury- His name is Norbert.

 

*Twag cradles himself in the corner*

 

Twag- They... took my mind... took my body... and Carmen... Carmen! They-!

 

Drury- Yeah. And... I'm sorry.

 

*Drury dropped his gun on the ground. He couldn't stomach it anymore. He'd lost his appetite for killing, any hatred he had left for Twag dissolved as he listened to his sobbing. He closed the door, and slid down it in defeat. Through the oak, he heard a gunshot, and he put his face in his hands. Miranda found him there, and, grabbing him by the shoulder, she pulled him close*

 

Miranda- That Talon said that Twag-

 

Drury- I know.

 

Miranda- God... Drury, how do you feel-?

 

...

 

Drury- Like crap.

 

*As they looked out the window, they saw at least a dozen more Talons sneaking off into the night*

 

Miranda- They're retreating. Must be too public for them. Drury... I heard you on the phone earlier.

 

Drury- I said... It said it was fudge.

 

Miranda- You're... Heh... You're a terrible lier.

 

Drury- Probably.

 

Miranda- It doesn't matter. It was about *this,* wasn't it? About the Court and Arkham?

 

Drury- No. That's just it, no it wasn't. Not entirely.

  

“What was the thought-process here?”

 

There hadn’t been much of one, really.

 

“We call the Dunbars and they tell us you aren’t there. They say Roger told them he would be HERE for the night.”

 

Yeah, that had been a rookie mistake.

 

“It’s one thing to lie to us, it’s another to let your friend be a part of it. Did you forget that we are your parents, and we want to know you’re safe? Chris.”

 

Chris jolts out of his internal reflection. He’s back at 231 Jewel Avenue. His mother sat forward on the couch, hands clasped under her chin. Some strands loosened from her otherwise kempt hair, and the dark of her eyelids, betrayed the anxiety she was trying to bury. His father had not spoken since driving Chris away from the scene at Frannie’s place.

 

“We… I didn’t do it to make you upset,” Chris explains sincerely.

 

“We don’t think that,” his father sighs.

 

…

 

“What we think-“ began Mrs. King.

 

“… is that you’re restless, moving back here,” Mr. King resolves, earning a fixed stare from his wife. “But we know, now that you and your old friends have caught up, you’re going to be focused on things like, let’s say, your classes. And you’re going to be responsible, not looking for trouble. Am I in the ballpark?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. King follows up with ultimatums. Chris puffs air behind his lips, cringing as he takes turns studying each of their expressions. The living room clock ticks incessantly throughout their still largely-unfurnished home.

 

“Well,” Chris pitches forward onto his feet. “I guess if that’s all sorted out, I can make it to class if I hurry.”

 

“Chris, where-“ Mrs. King objects as he darts to various corners of the room, recovering his backpack and materials that had been dropped the other afternoon. “You haven’t slept or even-“

 

“Going to school, being responsible!” contests Chris, one arm through the wrong strap of his pack, attempting to unlock the already-unlocked front entrance. “I’ll be home on time! We won’t get into any more trouble, I promise!”

 

He manages the door and peels out down the sidewalk, in the direction of Hamilton Junior High. Chris’ parents approach the stoop uneasily. Detective King’s fingers curl in and out of a fist on the doorframe as he watches his son.

 

Mrs. King laces her fingers at her waist. “Couples finish each other’s sentences.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“You didn’t finish mine correctly though.”

 

…

 

“I was going to tell Chris that we think he needs to stay at home when he’s not at school, for the time being. Until he can be honest with us. Be honest with himself about-“

 

“Liz.”

 

Her husband’s interruption is indistinct, but only so in volume. Behind the airy word, a storm brews. “… Can you appreciate… that I cannot and will not tell our son how he should be handling this? We know what… happened. Christ I don’t even know how I’m handling this.”

 

“Forgiving yourself is a good place to start, Greg.”

 

“Easy for you to say, you were always the bigger man,” Greg King chokes on a laugh, and his wife lays one hand on his shoulder.

 

“I can’t t-“ he begins, faltering. “… take more of his life away from him.”

 

“It’s our job to keep him safe, not in the dark” Liz King asserts resolutely.

 

“Our son is fine.”

  

***

  

The room didn’t hurt anymore.

 

Bryan wasn’t sure how it had been hurting in the first place, but, whatever it was, it had finally dulled.

 

No. It hadn’t? Now that humming, which had plagued him every moment he could remember being here, was inside him. It didn’t hurt; it fueled him. He was a furnace, unquestionably alive.

 

He was standing upright as well: an unexpected revelation. The woman with the calmative eyes was there, like always. Her staid face, and even the way she stood, was a veneer, hiding a dangerous avidity.

 

“Wait,” Bryan stops her as she clears her throat. “You’re going to ask me if I… I know my name. You keep asking me that. It’s Bryan Smith. And I’m here. ‘Here’ is…”

 

“Out of the woods, Mr. Smith,” she affirms warmly. “It was about this time last week that you were caught in an atmospheric phenomenon brought on by the meltdown of Trojan Labs’ greenhouse reactor.”

 

“I’ve. Always heard people, like, died to that kind of thing.”

 

“It was highly experimental, we knew. But we had run enough simulations and smaller models, to persuade the city we were secure. To know there wouldn’t be malfunctions,” she elaborates to a puzzled Bryan. “… We thought we knew. We might have been looking at a termination of all our funding and projects, but you’ve pulled through. More than that, you’re why we aren’t back at square one.”

 

As she said this, someone very new swaggered into Bryan’s makeshift recovery room: Dressed in fluorescent green and baby blue, with a collar and beard of equivalent extravagance. He grinned with just his bottom teeth and gave the pair a tiny salute.

 

Bryan nearly blanked on everything the woman had just conveyed. “Uh, how’s that?”

 

“We lost the reactor, but we gained you. You didn’t simply survive the event; the energy we lost control of superseded your physiology. As we speak, your cardiovascular and respiratory systems are essentially backup generators; you’re running on emissions that weren’t scientifically recognized last week.”

 

Before he knew what was happening, the woman takes him by the back of his hand, and places it under a lip of the capsule in which he had been convalescing. She applies almost no pressure at all, and the bed lifts like a sheet of paper. As Bryan’s eyes bug out, she steps away, leaving the feat of strength to his body alone.

 

“That’s you,” is her assurance.

 

“Wh- HOW is that..?” he grasps the frame, for fear of it crashing down. “… Oh god, what did I eat last night?”

 

The amusement on the new arrival’s face had not broken for a second, even as he made to mollify Bryan’s perplexity. “Your eyes do not deceive, friend. You’re like a real superhero, what do you think about that, eh?”

 

Bryan lets the cradle drop to the tiles at their feet, and pinches his arm. “Real?.. I have to get home!”

 

“Mr. Smith- BRYAN!”

 

The woman’s outburst cuts short his sudden beeline to the closest door. “Everything you have to your name was found in your car. Like I said, you’ve been here for days. We checked your records, we consulted with the authorities while they were investigating our mishap… you’ve been living paycheck to paycheck. No residency,”

 

She takes a moment to formulate the words, but her eyes stay locked on Bryan’s.

 

“no living relatives.”

 

It was all still so dizzying. Bryan wanted to believe there was some mix-up, some grand prank being played on him. If not for the woman’s face… those eyes, like bottomless wells that seemed to encapsulate the sadness he had been relieved of for his time away from the conscious world… if not for the feeling in his fingers and soles deadening at the mention of the life he had carved out for himself thus far, Bryan might have bought into his own mercy.

 

“It’s true, isn’t it? … I remember now.”

 

“We’re sorry,” the woman stresses. “All of us at Trojan. We are so sorry our hubris—our lack of caution—disrupted your life. I have to tell you, behind closed doors… we didn’t know what the machine was capable of, not really. It could ended far worse for you.”

 

Bryan couldn’t be certain if she was about to cry, the way she hung her head. “Well… hey, don’t beat yourself up; I took the job. I guess I signed some kind of… liability thing. Yeah. And it turned out okay, so. If you were worried I was going to charge the presses, don’t be.”

 

“‘Press’… ‘charges’,” the bearded man corrects.

 

“Or that!” Bryan agrees.

 

The woman is hardly comforted. “You would be well within your rights…”

 

“How can I be mad when I got super-strength out of the deal?”

 

Bryan tenses his arms in front of himself as if to refresh her memory, and in doing so, realizes the small light display traveling along his skin: Suspended eddies of yellow and orange, their forms disturbing in sync with Bryan’s own heartbeat. They furled like the cloud Bryan saw swallow him on the day of the incident.

 

“Whoa.”

 

The woman inches nearer; at once, no longer keeping up the repentant facade, but Bryan was too entranced to notice.

 

“It’s for this unforeseeable… blessing that resulted from our error, and only because we are aware of your living situation…”

 

She passes a hand onto Bryan’s forearm, stealing his attention.

 

“… that Trojan is asking of you to aid us once again.”

 

Bryan flinches, as one would do to ward off a drunken stupor. “I hadn’t picked up on it… your red hair. ‘cause your eyes-“

 

“I get that sometimes.”

 

She smiles. On Bryan’s cot, the bearded man sits cross-legged, observing. He beams, when meeting Bryan’s baffled look.

 

The recently-created metahuman focuses. “Err, what was it you were thinking to have me do, missus..?”

 

“Doctor. I’m Dr. Angela Wainwright, a technician here at Trojan.”

 

What WAS it with those eyes…

 

“You’re going to deliver Fairfax, Mr. Smith.”

  

***

  

“’Never’, as in, ’NEVER never’?” Chris prods.

 

“Never.” Glinda tugs the bag’s strap firmly onto her shoulder again. “I take pride in my classes.”

 

“So your first time ever skipping a period, you skip three,” Roger summates. “Go big or go home.”

 

Both boys snicker lightly; the levity, complementing the brisk midday. A passerby would not have suspected the heightened nerves within the children’s ranks.

 

“Would you both leave it alone?” pleads Glinda. “I’m going to turn back if I think about it anymore…”

 

“It’s just this once.”

 

Vicki steps into the lead of their troop, as all five kids venture past the civilization of Fairfax, to the woods waiting ahead. She has in an iron grip her satchel, bearing the enigmatic H-Dial.

 

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this, and then we’re going to get out. For good. To be clear-“

 

Vicki halts, pointing at the boys individually with a middle and index finger.

 

“Glinda’s grounded. SHE’s got to be back in town when school lets out for real. So don’t be the reason we get hung up.”

 

“US?!”

 

“How did your guys’ parents not flip out over you being attacked by supervillains?” Glinda questions them, stumped. “Seriously, it’s so unfair.”

 

“I don’t know, my… dad bailed me out. It was weird,” Chris confesses.

 

“Grounding just isn’t my folks’ thing. Anyway, running into crazy metahumans is par for the course; I live in Fairfax,” Roger points out bleakly.

 

“So do I,” Glinda fires back. “Of course it’s only my family that treats it like I was out shopping for criminals to fight.”

 

“And, uh,” Chris takes his eyes off Frannie, who had—all through their cafeteria meeting and now the hike—only listened to the others’ recounts of last night, beyond one very stilted acknowledgement of the four of them saving her. “I’d have bet your mom wouldn’t have let you out of the house, Frannie. For your own safety, I mean.”

 

Chris, still quite unsure of how to engage with the quiet girl, covertly checks with Glinda: Her face tells him he was decidedly in “blunt” territory, nearing “tactless”.

 

He makes a move to patch things. “With how reclusiv-“

 

Roger holds his own face mournfully. Frannie merely shrugs.

 

“I stashed the Dial, then went back to see how she and her mom were doing,” Vicki brings up. “And to hear what the police were making of it, but, I couldn’t really get close. Offered to walk Frannie to school for Mrs. Nash, since I was the only one of us she didn’t see in the yard. I mean, she did, but I was… blue… and several different sizes.”

 

“She thinks I’m going to be at Vicki’s after school,” Frannie finishes.

 

“Everyone’s parents…” Glinda gripes. “EVERYone’s. But nooo, not mine…”

 

Vicki stops the other four with a barely-raised hand. She can’t seem to look any of them squarely in the eyes.

 

“Guys, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry I left you all to get chewed out by-”

 

“No, Vicki, we had to keep the Dial secret,” Roger cuts in. “We were all thinking it.”

 

Glinda softens, forgetting her self-pity. “No sense in all of us getting into hot water,” she offers. “There’s no guarantee your parents would’ve let you off the hook.”

 

“Yeah,” Vicki concurs dubiously, glancing away at the trees.

 

Deeper into the forest the five of them walk, led on by Vicki. It was only because the girl had been utterly lucid from terror the previous night that she could now find her way. A few short intermissions, allowing Vicki to reclaim her orientation, were all that deterred them, before they arrived at the large fern veiling the mines’ inconspicuous exit. Urging her friends to the tunnel, Vicki comes close to trampling over the hand of the man guarding the lip of the hole; he holds a hefty wrench aloft. The resolve on his face is intertwined with petrification, as he realizes who he is threatening. Frannie takes an uneven step back.

 

Vicki initiates the encounter with a “Hi”, wincing soon after. “You were there last night- or, early this morning, I guess. … when I fell through the ceiling. Right? I’m seriously hoping-“

 

“For godsakes, let them in before the entire county hears her!”

 

Behind the guard was the lady doctor whom Vicki had witnessed tending to Nick. The two adults hastily pull Vicki and Chris into cover. Glinda shields a still shaken Frannie and descends inside before either can be similarly handled.

 

“Hey, personal space. We can walk!” Roger adds.

 

“Quiet!” the doctor frowns.

 

“Before you ask,” Vicki confronts her with an only slightly lower tone, “no, I didn’t lead any supervillains here.”

 

“No, you didn’t.”

 

Now, it was the man from earlier, that had hounded Nick about the Dial, who was trudging up the tunnel. He was perhaps only approaching middle-age, but his hair had completely greyed. It was now that Vicki noted, with the exception of Nick, everyone in the mine appeared to have on a lab coat, or varying stages of scholarly wear; this man—their apparent leader—wore his with a morose demeanor.

 

“Just more accessories. Brilliant.”

 

“Uh. ‘Accessories’ makes it sound like you’re doing something illegal too,” comments Chris.

 

Seven pairs of disparaging eyes divert to him.

 

Chris hides his hands in his pockets. “I’m not… wrong…”

 

Vicki examines the stacked crates crowed near the mine’s mouth. “Planning a trip?”

 

The man looks at her down the length of his nose. “You saw to that. By tangling with Nick. By running off with that-”

 

“Nick gave it to me.”

 

“By involving YOUR FRIENDS, yes, we are now forced to relocate! Because whatever risks come of trying to flee, they are greatly outweighed by the suspicion you’ve brought here; running in and out as you have, leading our hunters straight to us-“

 

“I told you, one way or another I’m getting the full story. It just so happens I was in the neighborhood, dropping something off for a friend,” Vicki jiggles the H-Dial under the man’s nose. Then she waves an arm at the other kids. “And you know what? Pardon me if I think they deserve the same answers, considering they live here and each of us could’ve died in the last twenty-four hours thanks to whatever X-Files bull all of you are involved in.”

 

Beleaguered, the man sags his head at the girl, then his associates. He does his best to ignore the latter segment of Vicki’s counter. “We’ll take the Dial to him for you.”

 

“I’ll take it to him myself, thank you. C’mon guys.”

 

Hesitantly, Chris and the rest resume following the dauntless Vicki down the crumbling passageway. The grey-haired man and doctor keep the guard from blocking the children, but do not let their surprise-guests out of view. Frannie stays right on Glinda’s heels, of which Roger takes notice. He snaps the frizzy-haired girl out of her inwardness by shallowly swinging an arm out.

 

“Hey. I hope you didn’t feel like we forced you to tag along. Don’t worry though-“

 

“I wanted to come,” Frannie says distantly, but not conflicted.

 

This is enough to satisfy Roger. “That was a great pitch. Back at your place, when you clocked that red Stormtrooper guy.”

 

“‘Stormtrooper’?”

 

Roger tries again. “I like baseball too.”

 

Frannie shrugs again. Glinda, listening to them trail behind her, tries not to visibly sulk; she distracts herself, nudging Vicki.

 

“Psst. Vicki.”

 

“Why are you whispering?”

 

“It feels like we whisper right now,” Glinda supposed, thrown off. “… You said that that boy outside school was also using the Dial?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And you said he got hurt? What happened when you hung up the phone to use it for…”

 

“I don’t know,” Vicki draws a sharp breath. “I don’t know, but if he-“

 

Around a tight corner, their path empties into a cavern. Milling about are dozens more men and women than Vicki had approximated during her initial visit. Likewise, a smattering of floodlights reveal just how expansive the hideout is. Some of the adults have stopped carting supplies around, to regard Vicki and her entourage. A good number are angry. More are scared, though no one openly opposes the grey-haired man allowing them this far; he singles out one person to Vicki, coldly advising her:

 

“There’s your friend. Give him that deathtrap back, and then take your band of hellions and go. Home.”

 

Sitting right where Vicki remembered seeing Nick with his leg half-fused with the tunnel wall was a paunchy, towheaded man guzzling a water bottle. He wore thick glasses, a bright red button-up, jeans, sneakers. He was clearly older than the grey-haired man in charge, but had a very round, clean face. It was strange, but Vicki’s first thought was that he was like an unused person.

 

Vicki exaggerates tilting her neck, doubtfully judging. “That’s Nick. Really.”

 

“He’s old?” Glinda looks pale. “Oh, gross, I thought they could be an item.”

 

Nick overhears this, taking a swig of water at an inopportune time. He spits when he recognizes Vicki, immediately getting up and dusting off his pants.

 

“I told you not to bring that back here,” he announces loudly to Vicki, but also for the grey-haired man to hear. “… but uh, actually, this works out okay because-“

 

“First,” Vicki orders, “tell me something only the boy I saw would know about what happened yesterday.”

 

He thinks for a second. “At the park, I got your shoes all muddy when I ran into you. And uh, you accused me of throwing you into a tree… I’ll have you know I was perfectly in control.”

 

Vicki’s eyes narrow. “You don’t look like a ‘Nick’.”

 

He pokes at himself, as if to somehow rebut her thesis. “No?”

 

“Maybe St. Nick,” Roger coughs.

 

Vicki hands off the H-Dial to the peculiar man, who accepts it quickly, yet confusedly. She taps a foot on the loose dirt. “So. That young guy was just the hero you were using. You had me hang up and redial. That made you… you, again.”

 

Nick juggles the Dial, winding the cord up haphazardly. “That’s… exactly right. Hit the nail on the head. I had a feeling you’d get the hang-“

 

“You’re not dying anymore. As in, you had me use this thing, without any training, to go save my friend who YOU incriminated by running into us… when you could’ve just redialed, and helped Frannie yourself!”

 

“Kid…”

 

“‘Vicki’,” she amends curtly, making their introduction official. “… ’Nick’.”

 

“Vicki. I…” The words catch in Nick’s throat. He holds the back of his head and laughs to himself, aware of his own explanation. “… I didn’t think the real me would be alive to go back to!”

 

“You mean you had me… when you thought you were going to..!“

 

Vicki stomps back up to him. He grins skittishly, looking to the other adults for help.

 

“What is with you and involving me in things that will get one or both of us killed, without TELLING ME??”

 

She turns back to her four friends, to see them uncomfortably and quizzically standing in an row.

 

“Oh, yeah! That’s a whole thing with this guy!”

 

“Yeaahh…” Roger trails off. “So, we’ve got some ground to cover here, but, let’s go for why you were going to have Vicki kill you..?”

 

Nick had no sooner opened his mouth than he received a bombardment of other questions from the kids.

 

“Did these people hire you to help Fairfax?” Glinda wonders.

 

Chris interposes, “Where’d you even find that thing? Did you make it?”

 

“Why does the Dial-voice-guy sound like my dentist?” Vicki mumbles, distrait.

 

Nick, cupping his ears, can endure no more. “Okay, okay! You know what? Confession time, alright?”

 

As passive as he had been, the grey-haired man now moves alarmingly fast to be practically nose to nose with Nick. “Absolutely not.”

 

The kids, doctor and all the rest of their on-edge company freeze where they stand, but Nick restfully addresses the man. “Mike…”

 

The man recoils in frustration at his name being divulged; Nick does not let him turn away fully.

 

“It’s a lost cause now, keeping them in the dark. This is all coming down, probably sooner than we think. We may just need some more allies. Besides,” Nick smiles, pulling the three-finger sign to his shoulder, “Scout’s honor.”

 

“They’re children,” Mike tiredly cues him, not a hint of humor in the words.

 

“If even one more person makes it out of this cave alive because these kids could help… Mike, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t say that’s worth taking the chance.”

 

Nick doesn’t wait for a response. He sweeps his hands up to be noticed. “Everyone…”

 

The entire cavern was already giving him their full attention.

 

“Ah. … Well I… found the H-Dial—that’s what it calls itself—in a cave, in my hometown. That was out west. I was a little younger than these guys here.”

 

Nick gives a fatherly wink to Chris and Roger, both of whom eagerly await more of the story.

 

“I don’t know how it got here any more than you do. But I learned to use it. I told all of you,”

Nick motions to the crowd, “what it let me do. When I realized what was going on in Fairfax, I made the promise that I’d help you, whether or not… some of you thought I was insane.”

 

The man named Mike only adjusts his neck, saying nothing in dissent.

 

“But I didn’t tell you everything. ‘suh matter of fact, I haven’t told anyone everything for something like thirty years.”

 

…

 

“My real name’s Robby. Not Nick.”

 

…

 

“That hero I’ve been using—Maquette—I changed into him back in 1962. I’ve stayed that way, because that last time that I changed, Robby was mortally wounded. I thought if I ever went back, to be him again, I’d be a goner for sure. I thought…”

 

The deluge of admissions breaks; Robby, overwhelmed by those admissions, regulates his breathing for a moment. Then he holds his hands out to emphasize Vicki.

 

“… that last night was my time. Your friend needed help, and I had reason to believe I couldn’t be the one to give it to her. Seems like I gave the Dial to the right kid for the job.”

 

Vicki shies away from all the stares placed upon her; annoyed, more than embarrassed.

 

“As for why I’m still kickin’,” Robby ponders, with his chin tucked into his flannel like a turtle, “I couldn’t say… I guess being in limbo for a few decades did me some good.”

 

All is silent once again. Just as Chris and Roger appear to be shaping up to let loose another bout of scrutiny on Robby, someone’s shoes intrusively shuffle on the rocks and, stunning everyone, it is the reticent Frannie who lets her will be known. Glinda and the others clear away to give her a direct line of sight to the odd man, as all of Frannie’s social inhibitions seemingly fall to the wayside, overridden by her question’s import to her.

 

“If you became Maquette to save yourself… what happened to Robby’s life?”

 

Robby jerks back, caught quite off his guard. Then, feigning relaxation, he crosses his arms robotically and gives her a smile and a nod. “I’m glad Vicki got to you in time,” he states, avoiding her in uninventive fashion. But Vicki’s gaze bullies him into submission.

 

“Uh. Truth be told? I don’t really know what I’m going… to do with myself. I’ve been Nick longer than I was ever Robby.”

 

Glinda, remembering something, drifts from the conversation with Robby, to where Mike and the lady doctor stand.

 

“Mr. um… sorry, I should’ve said right away, Vicki told me there were a bunch of you down here and that you looked like you needed help, so I brought food and a little water, here. There’s some fruit…”

 

She starts to unload her rucksack onto an old workbench.

 

“I asked some of the kids at school to chip in-“

 

Mike’s eyes bulge with fury and fear, and the doctor intuitively steps between him and the girl.

 

Glinda panics. “I… I d-didn’t tell any of them what it was for!”

 

Mike holds his tongue. “… I’m sorry. But you need to understand-“

 

The doctor hugs Glinda.

 

“Dr. Clark and I, and all of us,” she says on behalf of their concealed community, “are very grateful. We haven’t had enough food since we’ve been here. This is more than generous, thank you. You can call me Shelly.”

 

“I’m Glinda.”

 

Her friends had migrated over now, with Robby and some other adults; all of them, commending Glinda in their own way. Most had stony faces as they did so, but all of them were genuine.

 

Vicki gives Glinda a slap on the back. “Pretty good idea, Glinda.”

 

The throng eventually settles. First the kids’, then everyone’s eyes fall to Dr. Michael Clark. He hunches over the bench, arms straight, watching what came across to the newcomers as a high-tech desk toy: A rotating tray, with spires of silver flowing up and down themselves, reconfiguring into a handful of simple structures every few seconds.

 

Vicki has the first go at reaching the man. “So this is the stuff you’ve got in all these crates?”

 

Nothing.

 

Roger steps up next, more fed up with the inaction than Vicki was. “Hey. I think we all get that you don’t want anything bad to happen to these people. And I get that you don’t know us from a hole in the wall. But you trusted this guy to help you…”

jabbing a thumb at Robby.

 

“Wow,” he exclaims.

 

“And we were neck-deep in all this, way before we knew names,” Roger determines. “I think you’re stuck with us, at this point.”

 

Dr. Clark reads the room, the looks being given by his peers. It was evident that metaphorical walls had been dismantled by Robby. Prolonged secrecy would be pretense. The consensus had shifted with Glinda’s act, and it was time to speak.

 

“… We worked for Trojan Laboratories. Biologists, engineers. I’m an architect.”

 

He accredits the shape-changing creation before them to himself, with his last comment. The kids raise an eyebrow at the already-suspect Trojan Labs being mentioned; Glinda, mouthing something to Vicki about the monster they saw. The five of them, even Frannie, near the senior scientist. Dr. Clark continues grimly, clinically, as though fending off a force of nature in order to get the words out.

 

“We signed on because we had aspirations of leading the world into a new revolution in all fields. Medicine, transportation, leisure… But Trojan didn’t want innovations for a better future. They want weapons, for reasons we never learned, which scared us even more.”

 

…

 

“We devised a way to smuggle our projects out in one night, or we would give Trojan the chance to catch on. … They did anyway. They had metahumans, from off the street no doubt. Guard dogs. We were ambushed just when we thought we were in the clear. They split us apart, kept us from leaving Fairfax where we might find authorities beyond their reach. We knew we were surrounded. Those of us you see now collapsed this branch of the mine behind us, and it seems to have worked in discouraging their hunters from thinking we could be here. For now.”

 

Shelly, the doctor, quits handing out Glinda’s donations to the more malnourished among them, long enough to add, “Twice, some of our number have left the cave to make it outside city limits. But it’s been months now. We have to assume Trojan got them.”

 

“But, your families-“ Roger attempts.

 

“Trojan’s employees were and are alone, every last one. We have no relatives or relationships outside of our work. They find you on that basis, they ensure it stays that way,” Dr. Clark informs bitterly. “That’s how they like us. Helpless.”

 

“Hang on, aren’t you throwing in the towel kinda early here?” Vicki spins around to all the Trojan defectors, then stops at Chris. “Didn’t your dad say anything about officers responding to a disturbance out here, by the mines, last night?”

 

Chris blinks. “No..? He wasn’t the one under a microscope, y’know.”

 

Vicki rolls her eyes.

 

Robby takes over before the kids can make more presumptions. “I told you Vicki, those weren’t cops last night. Trojan’s smoking us out. They’re at our front door. You can’t go to the ‘real’ police either, we don’t know how many Trojan’s bought out. But it has to be some higher-ups, and more than just a few; it’s the only reason Trojan can get away with that prototype reactor nonsense.”

 

“My dad’s not some spy,” Chris warns, defensive toward Robby’s intimation.

 

“Your father’s a cop?”

 

“A detective.”

 

“If you- sorry, this is weird being this tall,” Robby bows and grabs his knees to be less imposing, at Chris’ own height. “If you let your dad in on this, he has superiors to report to. Maybe some bad ones. That’s his job. It’s not his fault, but he could make things worse for these guys.”

 

“You know you were right, Robby,” Dr. Clark interrupts him. “This could all very well end tomorrow, or tonight. We can’t. Stay here. It’s getting to be that trying our luck with the local law is wiser than waiting for your Dial to… to part the Red Sea for us.”

 

Robby massages his forehead as if he has a migraine coming on. “We’ve been over this Mike, you haven’t been up there. You canNOT surface yet. And the Dial… it’s not NOT science just because we don’t get it yet. It’s… eccentric. That much is obvious. But it works. It’s saved me, and it can save you. And whereas I’ve been up there, dancing around with Trojan and apparently every superpowered criminal in New England… now there’s six of us that can be eyes and ears up there. Using the Dial to its full potential. Making Trojan go underground for a change.”

 

Vicki slashes at the air, miming for the debate to end. “Hey look, all I wanted were some answers. That’s what we deserved, after last night. Frannie and her mom are safe now; they’re going to have squad cars out front for the next year. Guys… we can’t actually… I mean c’mon!”

 

I’d like to do something,” declares Glinda, “but I-I really don’t think I want to use that thing…”

 

Robby withdraws a little. “No, no I’m not forcing anyone to help, or to use the Dial. But I can walk you through this. We can do some real good with it.”

 

At this, a scientist from the crowd speaks out, inciting more and more of them to object.

 

“You’ve barely kept yourself safe with that thing!”

 

“They need to get their families to leave Fairfax, now!”

 

Frannie ducks off towards an alcove of the mine as tensions mount.

 

Shelly stands by Glinda with a hand on her shoulder. “Nic- Robby, never mind forcing them. You can’t ask this of them.”

 

“I can,” Robby contradicts staunchly. “Easily, actually. Because I’ve known this whole time what could happen if I really am your one and only hope, and it terrifies me. You don’t want just me; you want us.”

 

“Ever since I got back,” Chris injects, surprising himself by suddenly having the floor, “Roger’s been telling me stuff like ‘let’s not go there’, ‘it’s best not to go there’… But, Rog, all I’ve been trying to do is to ‘go there’. So I can understand what in the world is going on with my home! So I can fit in again! I haven’t been around when everything went bad, but I didn’t have the choice then. I’m here now; I want to be involved, now! … That’s uh, how I feel about it.”

 

Vicki strides past him to be with Frannie, uttering offhandedly: “Chris I really don’t think you need to be extending devotion to friends into crime-fighting, okay?”

 

From the time he had met her the month prior, Chris had scarcely, if ever, been able to follow up her more charged remarks, let alone criticize them. He had yet to comprehend how she, as he perceived, could be heedlessly altruistic one instant, as it had been with racing to save Frannie, then so closed-off and cynical in the next breath. He was at last compelled to call her out.

 

“What- Are you telling me you could straight-up walk away from this, knowing these people are down here, knowing Trojan’s this villain think tank-“

 

“Don’t tell us you weren’t having fun, kicking those guys all over Frannie’s yard,” Roger goads her.

 

Vicki glares. “I’d stick with Chris’ argument. … I’m trying to be practical here, alright? We keep chancing it like dumb kids, and we’ll go out like dumb kids. That ASIDE, there’s one Dial. What would we do, play hot potato?”

 

“If that’s what keeps Trojan off balance, and all of you alive, then yes,” Robby proclaims with authority. “Any one of you may just need to use the Dial in the coming days. Yes, Frannie has the police keeping an eye out for her for now—and we can only hope they’re all on the level—but what about you, or him? You’re that sure Trojan can’t find you?”

 

“Frannie and I beat two of these bozos by throwing small, dense objects at them,” dismisses Vicki. “Are we really going to pretend like-“

 

Robby reproaches this scathingly, harsher than anyone present would have thought him able to channel. “They’ve killed before, or did you forget that?! You? You got damn lucky! You want to try going three for three, chucking rocks? Maybe one of you ends up getting kidnapped, or just turned into dust, but hey, it’ll be REAL impressive if you set them back a whole day!”

 

Though startled like the rest of them, Roger backs the man’s sentiment, hoping his friends will be convinced.

 

“Robby’s right. The look on that guy’s face when he saw we had the Dial… He and his pals want this tech and they want it bad. We’re not going hold them off just by sticking together. The best way to keep them from getting the Dial is to push back, using the Dial.”

 

Robby and Dr. Clark react to the boy’s earlier statement with equal consternation.

 

“Say again…”

 

“You SHOWED them the Dial…”

 

Roger protects himself. “Hey the guy was a second away from hurting Frannie! It bought us time! I’d do everything I did the same way if I had a do-over!”

 

“Then that’s that,” Robby digresses.

 

…

 

“You know what we’re up against. You know this doesn’t go away without a fight. What I swore to every man and woman in this cave, I swear the same thing to you five.”

 

Those same five—unconventional guardian angels to a fraught host—have no shared resolution to give the man in return. The illuminated walls of the mine stand silently by just as its occupants do. Robby exhales.

 

“You must all be ditching classes right now. Time’s a-wasting. What’s it going to be?”

  

***

  

“Why does it feel,” Cathan queries, drumming his fingers on the other fist, “like, instead of sending you boys out there to make improvements to our situation, what I’ve actually been doing is sending you boys out there to find out everything’s already properly shagged, and you only come back here to confirm it with me?”

 

Still dressed as Golden Web, minus the ruined mask, George rests his knuckles on the table between them. ”We’re telling you, the little snot-heads had this- this phone, and they used it to give one of ‘em powers. SO…”

 

He side-eyes Kaleidoscope and Chain Master.

 

“… our new bunkies didn’t exactly do their job either. Isn’t that right? So much for the stupid pen being-“

 

“If you want to give us a rundown of how we should’ve done a job you weren’t even there for,” Kaleidoscope glowers, drowning him out, “please, George, go ahead. I’ve got a great imagination.”

 

“You’re not my master and commander just because you do psycho-weed with the boss,” George spurns.

 

Chain Master shoots up from his seat on the bottom stair-step. The gloves in his balled fists squeak.

 

“There you go Brent, don’t let him talk to her that way,” Cableman seems to cheer the large man on, only his delivery is devoid of all passion as he does not avert his concentration from the minuscule components and circuitry at his fingertips.

 

George sizes up Brent, who eclipses him. The younger man calls his bluff. “Ooh, y’know I wasn’t going to apologize, but then I remembered you were tall. … Get outta town, man.”

 

Edward Murr steers away from the conflict, conversing with Cathan one-on-one. “What we need to do is weigh our priorities again. How wise can some delinquents be to what we’re aiming for, really? They think we’re just another band of these metas running all over this town, knocking over gas stations. They’ve got their hands full. We’ve got openings.”

 

Gazing at his right-hand man dolefully, so as to jog Murr’s recollection of their past, Cathan then imparts, “We’ve cut corners on jobs like this before, Ed. Did you sleep well afterwards? When you realized we didn’t get everyone out we could have, if we hadn’t gotten twitchy?”

 

To which, Murr has no challenge; only a quiet forewarning. “Before we sink, Cathan.”

 

“Would’ve been great if we’d had those comms by now,” George now directs at Cableman. “Might’ve coordinated things more quickly, might’ve surprised the kid and made a clean getaway… but, sure, let’s pretend it was all on me and Distortionex. So sorry we fell short of expectations.”

 

This time, the sullen Cableman does look up. “You act like I’m being paid.”

 

Cathan’s pent-up irritation runs over. He punches the central table; the arm fluctuates with numerous, alien textures in a split-second, sufficiently silencing his five onlookers.

 

“We’re doing all this to right wrongs where we can, not for pay.”

 

Their leader’s scowl bores holes in Cableman’s reflective face shield; it moves on, to George.

 

“Not for petty bragging rights.”

 

Golden Web backs off. “Hey… your cause is our cause, man. But honestly, where’s this big blue meathead get off, acting like he and his gal pal-“

 

“Give it a break George,” Murr begs, fatigued. “He hasn’t said anything.”

 

“Yeah? I’m beginning to wonder if he can say an-“

 

Cathan subtly recedes from the escalating disagreement, noticing Kaleidoscope has done the same. He follows her into a secondary, uncompleted nook of the basement, pausing at the doorway when he sees what she’s doing: a mouse at the base of the far wall noses through a mound of lint. Kaleidoscope flexes her wrist, and the harmless particles morph into a trap, triggering instantaneously and cracking the pest over the head. The woman and the mouse are still.

 

“Kalei.”

 

“You can just use my real name.”

 

“I’m not talking to Nancy, I’m talking to Kaleidoscope,” Cathan says matter-of-factly.

 

“I’m just… so ready for this plan to be over and done with.”

 

“So am I,” Cathan confirms sensitively, hovering a hand over his heart.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I’ll have none of that from you.”

 

Nancy shakes her head vigorously, leaning against the tattered wallpaper, tracing the sculpted crystal of her palm with a thumb. “Getting rid of the boy should have been easy. I still… STILL can’t change things with a will of their own.”

 

She scoffs at her own words, swiveling on the wall with her shoulder, away from Cathan. He stifles the reflex to take hold of her hands. He makes two fists and collects himself.

 

“You haven’t let me down. You’re honing your abilities every day; I’ve seen so. The others will straighten themselves out sure enough, and soon-“

 

“These people you want us to save,” Nancy inquires, “… it really is important, isn’t it? Like you couldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t.”

 

“It’s exactly that,” Cathan admits.

 

The glass woman walks up to him. “Then let’s. Just. Do that. We don’t need to cover all our bases, chasing down potential threats in some… some KIDS…”

 

A dejected look creeps onto Cathan’s face. “You wouldn’t kill that boy last night. Not that you couldn’t, but that you didn’t let yourself.”

 

“PLEASE Cathan. Let’s do the job and end this. For Brent and me.”

 

“For you and Brent,” Cathan echoes, shutting his eyes. “… Yes, alright. Within the month. I-I know that’s not quick enough for your liking, but this is me, promising you: Within the month, we’ll make our move.”

 

“And our debt will be paid, when they’re free,” Nancy prompts. “Then, we’ll be square.”

 

“I wish you would stay anyway, debts be damned,” Cathan smirks boyishly.

 

“We can’t live this life forever. Neither can you,” Nancy reminds him solemnly.

 

“Now you’re not going to get all serious on me. I’ll sing one of my shanties, and you’ll have to pretend you don’t like it.”

 

Nancy laughed wholeheartedly despite herself, only encouraging Cathan.

 

“Oh I shan’t forget the day

When I first met Maggie- Nancy Mae;

She was cruising up and down old Woolwich place.

She had a figure finer

Than the fastest ocean liner,

And me, being a sailor, I gave chase.”

 

The song went on unheard by those beyond the rooms’ divide, except for Brent, the Chain Master. He too sidled away (as well as his mammoth frame would allow him to do so) from George’s squabbling, and listened to the pair from around the corner.

 

“Oh Nancy, Nancy Mae,

They are taking you away,

And you’ll never walk down Lime Street anymore.

For you’ve rolled so many sailors,

And you’ve skinned so many whalers,

And now you’re doing time in Botany Bay!”

 

Brent felt a weight on his chest at Cathan completing the shanty, and at the ensuing chuckles.

 

“Can I call upon you to take us on another trip?” Cathan asks under his breath.

 

“You know how it riles the others, especially Cabl- Todd. Us, using my illusions that way. The look he had last time…”

 

“To the Devil with Todd. We could do with some beauty in our lives, us two.”

 

Colors dance out from Nancy, up to the vacant hinges of the doorway where Brent remained unnoticed. Cathan and Nancy are enveloped by her powers, transported to carefree days of the past, or to days that had never truly been at all. Brent did nothing.

  

***

  

What had Chris been thinking?

 

The armored man was crouched in the treetops across from the Nash household. All day, the police had made efforts to communicate with Frannie’s mother, and identify the order of events. They made note of the residual materials left by Distortionex’s attacks, and zoned the yard off for further analysis. For all the good it did; the successful captures of meta-criminals that Fairfax’s law enforcement had under their belt were due to luck. They knew it. The man knew it.

 

Chris was never this rash. What got into him? His friends? They should know even better than him that this is no town to fool around in. … I save them from one disaster and they go run into another one…

 

That thing from the cornfield had put up more of a fight than he had anticipated. By the time he had caught back up with the children, the scuffle here had subsided. All he had seen of Chris was the boy being escorted away by his father. It might have ended so much worse.

 

Greg was there for them; he’ll make sure they stay away from things like this. It’s all over now. But, Chris looked real rattled. If I could see him again, and know he’s alright-“

 

A red squirrel scurries along the next tree over from the man. The creature attempts a leap to a branch from his tree, but misses. It falls, all the way to a log waiting below, and onto exposed jags of bark in the rotted trunk. There is no more movement.

 

The man’s face hardens beneath his frightening disguise.

 

You’re too emotional right now. You know what happens if you get anywhere near him, like this. Get your head on straight. Then get back out there, and don’t let it come this close, ever again.

 

He only got a glimpse. That’s all he could ever get anymore.

 

Don’t jinx it.

  

***

  

Robby claps his hands. “Alrighty, lightning round. Hit me.”

 

“Why were you ’Nick’?” Glinda puts forward.

 

“Why not?”

 

“No like, why not any other name?”

 

“‘sjust a name,” Robby concocts sheepishly.

 

It was well into the afternoon, and the children had need to get back into town. In the wake of Robby’s move to get a solid decision out of them, an unspoken understanding had been achieved. They would be back. To what extent they might be aiding the Trojan refugees was, as ever, up in the air, but they knew this would not be their last time in the mine. The majority of the scientists had been won over, as far as accepting the kids as allies, partially thanks to Shelly ultimately showing faith in Robby. Dr. Clark had said all he would on the matter.

 

All that was left to be settled were a few discontented curiosities.

 

“What was the deal with ‘Maquette’ anyway?” Vicki throws in. “You would draw in a notebook-“

 

“Doodle-based aptitude. I could manipulate my own physicality and perform impossible stunts by drawing it first.”

 

“Sounds tedious.”

 

“Ah! Not so,” Robby contends. “It also made me draw subconsciously, faster than a human mind could design.”

 

“So it gave you a superpower just so you could use the actual superpower.”

 

“… Well when you put it like that. … Ah yes, the gentleman in the jersey,” Robby readily moves on to Roger.

 

Roger inspects the H-Dial. “So I was thinking, this thing’s gotta have someone that teleports, right? We can just… cycle through until we get one who can zap everyone out of here! Outside Fairfax. Or, like someone who can disguise all of you; Vicki said one of the creeps from last night was making it so she couldn’t see anyone in town.”

 

Robby slows him down, taking the Dial away from him and setting it aside. “Heroes with powers like that come once in a blue moon, and I do mean ‘once’. I had the Dial for three years before Maquette, and I’m telling you the only time I got a hero on the level you’re describing was with The Prime Mover. Now she was somethin’ else.”

 

A nostalgic twinkle enters his eyes, bemusing the kids.

 

“I was listening to my radio, and the Siren Gang was robbing a bank all the way over in Granite City, but she helped me get there and stop them in a matter of-“

 

“I’m sorry…” Vicki snorts, making a time-out “T” with her hands and exchanging a look with Glinda. “… You got a ‘she’?”

 

Robby takes a seat. “The Dial works in mysterious ways,” he enlightens her, a little too seriously.

 

Vicki lets up on ribbing him. “Right. About that: It was making me say Saturday morning cartoon catchphrases..? Basically as painful as the guy that disintegrated part of my leg.”

 

“The heroes have their own personalities that you have to make space for. If you stay on the line for as long as I did, you can work past it. But eh, the one-liners are more or less a feature of the H-Dial that’s here to stay. It’s a packaged deal.”

 

Vicki nods wryly. “Awesome. And by ‘awesome,’ I mean ‘that majorly blows.’”

 

“We really need to get going now, guys.” Chris recommends. “Remember, Glinda especially-“

 

Roger hops off his boulder. “Yeah, agreed.”

 

Glinda pats down her pack to make certain there was no more food to leave. “Do we have…”

 

“Hey,” Robby whips around. “Which one of you took the Dial-“

 

“… Frannie?”

 

The gang looks behind themselves, as one. She was loitering near the tunnel by which to exit.

 

The H-ring on the Dial is pulled back in her hand.

 

Letting go of the mechanism, the rotary phone ignites into a shower of neon sparks. It consumes itself in a collapsing cyclone, and where once was Frannie, a sleek and scarlet being emerges from the pinkish fog.

 

“Frannie.”

 

With the Dial, and without a word, the newly-summoned hero splits away for the tunnel in a puff of dust, impossibly fast, and she blinks out of sight.

Digital Art

 

Especially for Renee

Best wishes and much love!

Everything started with the destruction of Krypton. Me, my sister Kara, and our parents lived there, in Argo City. With their final moments upon them, our parents saved our lives by placing us in a spaceship, sending us to a planet we would soon call our home, Earth.. While in flight, we would watch as our home exploded, knowing there's nothing we could've done to save them. We were the only survivors of Krypton, or at least, that's what I thought at the time. Our fuel ran out quite quickly, so then we were adrift for years. Eventually, we crash landed on the planet Earth, more specifically in the town of Leavenworth, Kansas.

 

It was then, in the town of Leavenworth, that we would be found by the Danvers. They soon would realize the troubles of raising two kryptonians, after they took us in as their own children, especially with our out of control powers. I still remember being so scared for those first few months, especially not being able to understand a single word they were speaking. It took us a few years to learn the language, and everything else about this planet. On TV, we would see a variety of superheroes, saving people, and fighting against evil. But there was one that stood out to me the most. He was one that they called "Superman". He has the house of El symbol on his chest, and has powers much like ours. Maybe we weren't the only ones who survived after all, although it would be a while before we actually met him for the first time. Our adoptive parents would enrol us at the local highschool under the names Christopher, and Kara Danvers. That didn't last long, as I would lash out when someone tried bullying me or my sister, which happened a lot of the time, as we were different from most. Eventually, I got expelled, and my sister decided to leave as well. We would be homeschooled for a couple more years. Now having better control of our powers, we decided to travel to Metropolis, where we would meet Superman for the first time, or Clark Kent, depends on who you ask.

 

He was so welcoming to us, even though we didn't really know each other. Turns out though, that we are actually related! His Kryptonian name is Kal-El, our cousin that was only a baby when we met him on Krypton. Guess we were stuck in space a whole lot longer than I thought. We would spend the day, hanging out, doing ordinary things, along with occasionally stopping muggers, and saving cats that were stuck in trees. That was one of the best days I've ever experienced here on Earth, and it gave me hope for the days ahead. When we came back to Leavenworth, we would start doing more heroics, inspired by our cousin. We would don our own costumes of sort, which were just the Kryptonian uniforms we came in, readjusted to fit us.

 

The next couple of months, we would encounter various criminals, three of which had their own special name. First was Assassin. Obviously, as the name implies, he was a murderer, with his last victim being Vivian Lancaster. We were able to put a stop to him pretty quickly, as he didn't count on us being bulletproof. We learned he was only killing to lure us out, which pissed me off even more. I was pretty close to killing the guy, before my sister stepped in and told me to stop. The same night, we would learn of Pirate, who was orchestrating most of what was going on. When we got home, we encountered Stinger, and we were too late to save our mother once again. Me having the same anger issues did what I do best and punched him. Thinking back on it, I just really like punching people apparently. The weeks after that, with mother's funeral were not easy. I locked myself in my room, blasting music as loud as I could, just trying to find some relief. It got to the point where Kara called Clark to visit. He has this way of getting through to me, and over this time, we became pretty close, as he would tell me different stories. I consider him more of a big brother than a cousin. I would soon learn of Stinger's death in Leavenworth Detention Center, and I was sort of glad. Terrible of me, I know, but he caused so much suffering. Pirate struck once again.

 

After my crying stage, I would eventually leave the house for the first time, to go to the bank. It was there where I would meet the Five Finger Discount crew for the first time, though they didn't have any powers then. Me and Kara took them down pretty easily, and in the process I saved a cute girl, who gave me my first kiss. Honestly, it gave me feelings that I have never felt before. That was the day I started to fall for Alicia Baker.. It was love at first sight. Then we announced ourselves as Superboy and Supergirl for the first time to the world as reporter Tana Moon interviewed us.

 

I would eventually encounter Pirate for the first time in a burning building, where everything would go to black. When I next woke up, I was tied down, with Pirate there. We talked, but he wouldn't spill anything. When my sister came to save me, he manipulated my emotions, making me only feel anger towards him. This led to a brief fight between me and my sister, where she reminded me once again of who we are supposed to be. With Pirate locked up, things were quiet for a couple of months.

 

My dad was able to pull some strings to get us enrolled at Immaculata, where I would reunite with Alicia Baker. Through her, we would meet Shane Veritas, Tycho, and Simon Valentine who would become my closest friends. It was from them that I would learn of Flux, a new hero in town, along with vampires existing. I would eventually encounter Blanque, a vampire that almost killed Kara, but by the grace of Rao, I was able to save her by flying her to the yellow sun. The weeks following, I went on my first date with Alicia, which would've been perfect, but thanks to my luck, I had another run in with Five Finger Discount. Flux came to help me, and after the fight, it turned out that Flux and Alicia were one in the same. Two of the villains would get away, but 3 out of 5 was pretty good all things considered.

 

The city came under attack once again when the shadows started to strike. With Kara at a cross-country meet, I had to deal with it on my own. Turns out she had her own problems to deal with, as she faced off against Sparkline, a Kryptonian that only had a couple of powers. Back to the shadows, it turned out to be Wrath, the lover of Psycho Pirate, which is something I honestly will never get. She had this whole speech about bringing despair. The way I countered it was with hope, taking a page out of Kal's book. My hope was able to weaken her monsters, so I could take them down pretty easily after that. During the heat of the moment, this one guy tried to offer me his daughter in exchange for merchandising rights, so that was something I guess. Kara came in at a good time, right as I brought the fight to Wrath herself. In a weakened state, she goes down pretty quickly, and once again, Leavenworth was safe, though the damage to the city was at an all time high. Wrath was securely put away in a metahuman prison, that the D.E.O constructed when we took down Pirate.

 

Recently, we've helped in reconstructing the buildings that fell during Wrath's assault on the city. Besides that, me and Kara have been going to school, hanging out with our friends when possible. We even went to Simon's house and played a game called Smash Up, where I somehow won the game. I swear I didn't use my powers at all! It was mostly because of Alicia that I won. It's been nice being able to do ordinary things from time to time, in a world full of extraordinary.

The Kingston’s - Issue #5 “Multi-Mack”

 

*Multi-Mack and his copies begin to wreak havoc in Avalon City, each copy has its own sort of personality but still has the same homicidal tendencies. Multi-Mack’s greeting to the new city locals was having his 12 copies simultaneously defecating off the side of the Statue of Liberty after scaling it. It seems to be he’s seeking attention by purposely being obscene and crazy to get fame. A few heroes have tried and failed at stopping him due to most of the time his original form escaping amongst the chaos and splitting off from his insane copies. It wasn’t long until he reached the area that The Kingston’s patrolled and they were ready for him. Waiting.”

 

Susan: “I think he’s coming for us.”

 

Coby: “Wait, what? Why?”

 

Susan: “Every city he’s visited he’s desecrated their most prized possessions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for us too, we are loved heroes.”

 

Coby: “Oh joy.”

 

*The Kingston’s stand at the main road and Susan waits with her arms folded, not taking her eyes off the road. Coby couldn’t tell if she was scared of this multiplying metahuman or not. She always had a plan and every meta had a weakness. He had years of experience under his belt and Susan had an extra 8 months when she took up crime fighting before telling him. He was still kind of mad at her for doing that but after the death of their parents he understood she needed a release. They both did. Then the hero gig kind of just... stuck. It was their lives now and they both loved it... at times. But it was often the waiting for a villain to rear its poorly ironed cape that made his stomach churn, especially when the villains had powers. He and Susan were both just human, no powers, nothing. They only had each other and their wit to fight against the impossible and so far they had managed to win. Don’t get them wrong, there are times they had broken bones, argued with each other, suffered humiliating defeats in one sided fights but they always managed to eventually win.*

 

Susan: “There’s the truck.”

 

Coby: “Crap. I need to pee.”

 

Susan: *rolling her eyes* “I told you to go before we got here.”

 

Coby: *sighs* “I’m not wetting myself again just so I can focus on fighting.”

 

Susan: “Nobody asked you to last time, you just went right there and then.”

 

Coby: “Can’t believe I almost got arrested for doing that.”

 

*The truck approaches and the driver, the original version of Multi-Mack grins at them splitting inside his vehicle into multiple copies, which squirm and wrestle with each other spilling outside of the vehicle. It comes to a skidding stop and most of the able copies run at them, faces full of rage and some with fear and confusion. Coby watches, his heart racing and beating in his chest, he reaches into his pocket pulling out a small chain bracelet. He squeezes it in his sweaty palm and it quickly expands into a full length chain that he swings just in time striking back the closest of Multi-Mack’s copies. Susan rolls to the side as Coby’s chain lashes out, sparking with electricity striking and keeping the copies at a safe distance away. Susan springs out of the roll, kicking and flipping her way through the crowd of copies reaching the one in the centre. But the copies that are knocked down begin to blink and disappear.*

 

Coby: “Well that can’t be good. Uh, Sis?”

 

*Susan is too occupied striking down the last of the copies and she draws back a fist ready to end the original Multi-Mack. He shakes violently and his body splits rapidly generating more copies as he begins to sweat. Susan is pushed back and lost in a pile of limbs and bodies as they begin to hit each other and Susan. Coby just makes out her body amongst the chaos and lassos a number of the copies pulling them with all his might off his sister. They’re surprisingly light for the number of them, but still enough to make him break a sweat and feel tired afterwards.*

 

Susan: “Coby, get him!”

 

*It’s then Coby catches sight of one of the Multi-Mack’s running away breathless and looking nervously back. Coby looks at his sister who seems to be handling the copies, each one going down easier than the last. But it was tiring her out, he could see she was slower than before. She catches his eyes and recognises the all too familiar “go kick his ass, I’ll hold off the henchmen” look. He takes off after the original form sprinting past Susan, not daring to look back. He turns the corner past a house and sees the Multi-Mack trip and hit the ground. Coby grins emerging around the corner seeing the unconscious Multi-Mack sprawled over a can of paint someone left out. He sighs with relief and jogs back meeting Susan who has taken a beating.*

 

Susan: *heavy breathing* “All the copies are gone, did you get him?”

 

Coby: “I got him. Well, the can of Deluxe did anyway.”

 

*Susan peers over the fence and notices the spilled can and smiles letting out a slow exhale. Coby lets her lean against him and he pulls out his phone calling A.N.G.E.L. who on the first ring answers.*

 

A.N.G.E.L. Officer: “This is A.N.G.E.L. Emergency Help, how can we be of service?”

 

Coby: “Hey, um... Kevin! We got that Multiple Mackie guy, so yeah I have no idea where we are right now so just track the call an- you know the drill, Kev.”

 

Susan: “Hold on. Tell Kevin that we can use him for hero training exercises. Keep the original contained and let him use his copies for combat training. They don’t die and they’ll be good for practice. Especially with the OP Meta’s, less staff casualties.”

 

Coby: “You get all that, Kev?”

 

Kevin: “Sure did, Mr. Kings- Coby. Thank you, oh and tell Susan my kids aren’t having bully problems anymore since she taught them that trick.”

 

Coby: “I dread to think what she taught them but okay. See ya, Kev.”

It doesn't take me all that long to reach the Fortress, especially with how fast I'm flying. Entering the Fortress, I see Clark and Kara laughing, with Kelex on sleep mode. It's nice to see her smiling again, given all the pain she's endured recently.

 

"Kara!" I exclaim, almost shrieking, as I run towards her, with arms wide open. Seconds later, we're hugging each other, with me holding on for dear life. Clark waves goodbye, before flying off to save the day once more.

 

"Hi to you too! Hug me any tighter, and I might actually break." She says meekly.

 

"Right.. Sorry.. I'm just glad to have you back." I say, pulling back from the hug.

 

"I know you are, and it's nice to be back, once again. Seems to be a recurring theme, almost dying and all. Blanque, Bloodsport, and evil doppelganger. Anyways, what do we know about those two anyway?" She asks, getting straight to business.

 

"Not much. They've been posing as us at school, and playing hero. Clark told me about his past with a clone partially made from his DNA , which brought me to Cadmus. Guardian showed me around, and there's nothing out of the ordinary there. No one's been in the cloning lab for years, given it was covered in cobwebs." I answer, recalling what's happened over the past few days.

 

"Oh, well back to square one I guess." Kara says with a sigh, looking down at the ground.

 

"Not quite.. There's still a lead we can follow up on. Doctor Sterling Roquette." I pause for a couple of seconds, before continuing. "She's a geneticist, that used to work for Cadmus Labs. When the cloning project was shut down, the board of directors blamed her, and was quickly fired. If anyone knows what's going on with these new clones, its gotta be her." I reply, trying to reassure her.

 

"Do you have a former address?" Kara asks, with newfound hope in her eyes as she looks back up at me.

 

"No. At least, not yet anyway. Guardian's taking a look now though, and if he finds anything useful, he'll let me know."

 

"Sounds like you and Guardian are already pretty close. Should Alicia be worried?" Kara giggles, nudging my shoulder with her elbow.

 

"You already know the answer's no. Speaking of.. Hope you don't mind, but I told Alicia everything.." I answer, not giving her much of a reaction.

 

"When you say everything--" I interrupt her before she can say any more.

 

"I mean everything. Krypton, our parents, my name being Cry-El, all of it. I love her Kara. She was so open with her parents about being a metahuman, that I felt comfortable opening up. You want to know what the best part about it is? It didn't change anything in her eyes. She loves me for me.. Alien and all." I say, my voice filled with happiness.

 

"It's about time!! Wait, did you think I would get mad at you for telling her? C'mon, you know me better than that! I'm so happy for the two of you!" Kara cheers. I can't help but smile. I have my sister back. It's then that my phone vibrates. Turning it on after pulling it out of my pocket, it's a text from a unknown number. I'm assuming it's from Guardian, as all that's written down is an address.

 

"It's from Guardian.. Got Roquette's old address." I say with a grin, showing her the message.

 

"Awesome, let's go check it out."

 

"Woah, not so fast there sis. While I appreciate you wanting to dive headfirst back into this, I can't, as a good brother, let you come along. You should go home, see dad, and get some sleep. You're still recovering, after all."

 

"I've been getting sleep for a few weeks now, but alright.. If things go sideways though-"

 

"It'll probably be nothing.. But yes, on the off chance that it does go sideways, I'll call you." I give Kara one last hug, before floating off the ground, and flying away.

  

-----------------------------------

Former Home of Serling Roquette

 

This is the place. Floating in the air, scanning through the apartment with my x-ray vision, there's someone inside. But it isn't Doctor Roquette. Moving closer to the window, I notice it's someone dressed in red and black body armour. My first thought is Stinger, but he's dead.. Besides, this guy's wearing a helmet, not a ninja mask. The armored man's looking for something, as he's making a mess of the apartment. Left the window open too. He's not expecting any surprises. Guess he'll be pretty disappointed to see me. Making my way out of the bedroom, I follow the sound of his footsteps, which lead me to the kitchen, and what do I find? Him, making a sandwhich. When you gotta eat, you gotta eat, I guess. He looks up, to see me standing there, and is about to pick up his gun from the table.

 

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." Unfortunately, he doesn't listen to my advice, and unloads round after round. I'm able to catch them in mid-air pretty easily, freezing his gun and smashing it in one swift movement. His arm recoils upon trying to punch me. He curses at me soon after, but I just shrug.

 

"Hey, I told you it wasn't a good idea. Not my fault that you didn't listen. No one ever does.. Anyways, what are you doing here, and where's Doctor Roquette?"

 

"I aint telling you nothing Superboy!" He yells, in between groans.

 

"You do realize that's a double negative, right? Guess we have to do this the hard way." But before I can raise my fist, he faints.

 

It's then, that the front door opens, and it's Tycho.. What is he doing here?

 

"Tych-o what are you doing here?" Crapp, why'd I say his name? Chris Danvers knows him, not Superboy.

 

"Ooops.. Probably shouldn't of said that.. Loose lips sink ships you know?" Tycho replies with a smirk, walking out of the entryway, into the kitchen where I'm standing.

 

"Okay? But what are you doing here Tycho?" I ask, still confused as to why he's here.

 

"Oh, now you care. It was always Alicia this, Alicia that.. Always too busy to hang out. Do you even know a thing about me?" He answers, taunting me.

 

"Umm." Is all I'm able to say, as I think about my friendship with Tycho. I honestly don't know anything.. Except.. "Your dad was murdered.."

 

"You only know that because I mentioned it when we talked about Flux! You've known me for a few months now, and didn't make any effort to get to know me! Well, get to know Tycho, anyway.." Tycho scoffs.

  

"Why did you talk about yourself in the third person there?" I ask, baffled at his response.

 

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? Fine.. Your 'friend' Tycho? Never existed. He was a role, to be played. Always in the background, never stepping on anyone's toes. Such an easy way to gain everyone's trust.. But unfortunately, this guise has grown useless, now that you've see Tycho here." That's when it hits me, and no, it's not me remembering key moments or something. It feels like a scorpion's tail or something jabbing itself right into my back.. Within seconds, Tycho's gone, and turned into something else.. Something more monstrous, and reptilian in nature. Sharp, pointed teeth, and yellow eyes, with scales covering his entire body, and a tail, which I realize is what stabbed me. It doesn't take long before I'm fully paralyzed.. Must've been some special type of poison or something, to be able to immobilize a Kryptonian.. But now I'm unable to move, or even call for help. Tycho, was actually this creature, the whole time.. I can't wrap my head around it.. How did I not figure this out sooner?

 

"I know, I know... You have a lot to think about, but unfortunately it's time for you to sleep now. After all, the master has big plans for you." It sneers, crawling on all fours. Those are the last words I hear, before my vision blurs, blacking out mere moments after.

I did not enter this room under my own power.

 

I pull myself together, quite literally, off of the cold, sterile floor. The environment is sans sound, not even white noise. My surroundings, as revealed by scant luminescence in the ceiling, consist of four walls, three padded, one a window into a darkened room beyond. A closer look reveals various erect objects therein, looming so indistinctly in the shadows, one cannot discern if they are machinery, mannequins, or otherwise.

 

I no longer have the need to fall into deep slumber. SOMEthing has willed me into a dormant state and delivered me to this unfamiliar setting.

 

Two strangers, a burlesque rabbit and a clown with a surly complexion, seem to be joining me in this most precipitate relocation. Both are asleep as I was moments ago. The pervasive aura of nonsensicality about me, in the disjointed things and circumstances that are my company, exert what I must describe as the notion that I have been thrown into an abominable…

 

Wonderland.

 

If this IS indeed his production, Tetch is playing for a most unamused audience. I disperse my form up into the walls and corners, probing for the most minute crevice in which to escape through, to no avail. I return my attention to my fellow inmates. Strangely, the woman, March Harriet, was in league with Tetch when last I looked. The explanation as to why she was now a prisoner alluded me. And this thuggish clown is of no concern at all. I suppose there is no reasonable cause for killing them just yet. Dammit all.

 

Two more half-hearted inspections of my cell later, they have begun to stir. I know not if they are aware of their captor, as I am. As such, appearing before them as the Mad Hatter would be a gamble. Furthermore, as Clayface, they may be intimidated beyond giving me any clues to our situation. It would be wise to meet them on common grounds, as hired muscle myself. A Penguin goon will suffice.

 

The clown groggily rolls onto his back, grunts in realization, and leaps up to face me. Harriet remains seated on the floor, rubbing her eyes and already looking suspiciously bored… impassive?.. with the circumstances. As though she had foreseen all this. I shall question her first.

 

Clown: I’ll bust yer lip if you steps nears me, yah hear?

 

“Penguin Goon” (nasally): Relax guys, we’re in the same boat here. I already checked our escape routes, and it don’t look too peachy. Either of you kno-

 

Harriet (fuming): Hatter. For all his intellect, he’d agree to rob a street musician if the invitation was written in rhyme. WHY did I stick around with that WORM?

 

“Penguin Goon”: … Your BOSS caged us up? You’re saying he was roped into doing’ this by another crime boss?

 

Right then, a voice as appealing as an un-oiled door hinge crackles over the intercom.

 

Crane: A humble doctor is all I profess to be. Contradictorily to others in my field, however, FEARLESS in the realm of discovery.

 

One of the shapes opposite our side of the glass shifts, now evidently the Scarecrow: Hands clasped at his back, and beady eyes flitting between our trio, as he closes some distance between us with painfully deliberate strides.

 

Clown (backpedaling from his aggression): Hey, uh, Mr. Crow, I don’t think you really wanna have me in this box here. Y’see, my boss already has it out for you, an’ me? Well, I don’t like to brag, but I’m somethin’ of his right-hand man! “Chortle”, they call me. He won’t like this too good; not one bit.

 

I keep my composure with great effort. Knowing full-well of Chortle’s employer, and my hand in creating him, I cannot help but ponder if Crane has placed this cruel reminder of my handiwork here intentionally. He had indeed been there the night I awakened the Joker. As if on cue…

 

Crane (fixating solely on me now, his rasp sounding like wet grime trickling out of a rain gutter): For shame, Karlo, fooling the lower class criminals like this. Didn’t you KNOW your captors would spoil your fun soon enough?

 

Myself (whipping into the bloated and towering identity I assume when feeling uninspired): It would seem I’ve been made.

 

Chortle trips backward, his blue hair standing even more so on end. Harriet runs up to the glass and begins pounding at it.

 

Harriet: I know you’re out there, Hatter! You hear me? Let me out this instant! Do you know what this freak can DO to me?!

 

Chortle: To US???

 

Another shadow moves. Tetch whimsically glides into view, that half-sadistic, half-feather-brained look plastered on his freckled face. He makes a sweeping bow to our cell and readjusts his headwear.

 

Tetch (speaking through his teeth, in a singsongy manner): No sense in fretting, my dear. Dr. Crane has assured me this final procedure will perFECT our master plan once and for alllll!

 

Harriet: You’ll never find hired help again after this! I’m the best gun that your pathetic gang ever had!

 

Tetch (still waltzing about): Ah, but there will be no need for super-villainy in Gotham in a few short hours, no no… This is to be The Batman’s last hurrah!

 

Myself: Surely you cannot keep us in suspense, Crane. You do so enjoy… you must pardon my verbiage… to CROW.

 

He shuffles over to a control panel.

 

Crane: Do you want to hear a flaw of yours, Karlo? You see only cinematic solutions to problems. You deceive and thwart and trick, but you always so desperately need the scene to be genuine. You couldn’t accomplish anything if you didn’t receive raw emotion back for your efforts. Perhaps you’ve given up on killing The Batman for that very reason. The stone-cold vigilante that never appreciated your commitment.

 

As Crane and Tetch continue to adjust knobs and dials on their equipment, Chortle and Harriet fruitlessly search our limited space for a means of departure.

 

Chortle (to her): You’ve worked with the guy! You’re telling me you don’t know how to get people in and out of this box??

 

Harriet: I just deliver the goods! You think I’m into this psycho-crap? I’m just paying grocery bills here!

 

Crane (ignoring the babble): It was this study of your character, Karlo, that sparked my latest master plan. My GREATEST plan. You see, though I have developed variations to my toxins over the years, they’ve always brought about the fears festering deep inside my victims. They were REAL fears, Karlo, just like those you instill.

 

He approaches the glass barrier once again.

 

Crane (a brusqueness in his croak): Here’s whats going to happen. You three will be subjected to my most potent gas, as Hatter takes control of your minds. As a general rule of trial and error, the physiologies of a man, woman, and metahuman will do nicely to provide us with any inconsistencies in results. With luck, you will all be the final casualties of our tests to end The Dark Knight’s reign, as we engineer NEW fears for you to experience. WithOUT luck… well, you will all be much too dead to disapprove.

 

Chortle: An’ here I was thinking MY boss wasn’t funny!

 

Crane was not his usual self. Normally, he may have carried a creeping smile upon his stitches as he outlined his schemes, yet something was amiss on this occasion. His voice lacked smugness; his confidence seemed to have evolved beyond simple gloating. Now, a sense of unchecked purpose and drive was woven into his words. He believes unequivocally this to be his very last plot.

 

Myself: And IF you successfully implant phony terror within us, what then, Crane? We both know The Batman WILL have a way to evade the same fate.

 

Tetch: We will not beeeee targeting the big bad Bat this go-around, no siree! I’ve been busy as a beaver creating a new line of teeny-tiny mind control devices, that blend beautifully with Dr. Crane’s concoctions. Like pollen drifting from lovely flowers, they will float into every nostril and ear canal in Gotham…

 

Crane: And then we allow this cesspool of a city to experience the one fear it’s sorely needed; the fear of Batman himself. We will drag his symbol, his legacy, into the muck, and he will live to see thousands die, screaming in horror at the image he’s fought so hard to keep pure.

 

He throws a final lever, and the whirring and buzzing of electronics behind the walls commences.

 

Crane: This is a noble cause. You understand, of course.

 

Chortle: Okay, okay, look, I’m not really one of the Joker’s finest! My name’s Nate, Nathan Cachin! I just signed up a month ago, an’ I got a gal back in Blüdhaven! Listen, I know some corrupt cops in GCPD that’d let you take some death row inmates off their hands for your science project here. Great stuff here, by the way, I rea-

 

A haze begins to occupy the room. I realize now that the out layer of the walls themselves are Tetch’s microscopic devices, each housing a portion of Crane’s gas. They anticipated I could have escaped via ventilation, they had pumped it in from elsewhere.

 

Chortle (perspiring profusely): Um… UH… Deep breaths, guys!

 

Harriet (drawing an obscured knife from her outfit, striving to puncture the glass with it): You idiot, it *stab* gets into your system just *stab* by skin contact! He gave us a damn *stab* POWERPOINT!

 

It is time I resort to less than flashy means of elusion. I dehydrate the clay in my fists, and subsequently begin to pound the window along with Harriet.

 

Tetch (linking his modified hat to the instruments that are invading our bodies): Such unruly children! You’ll go to bed as instructed!

 

Harriet suddenly sinks to her knees, then flat on her stomach. Rapid glances over her shoulders up at the ceiling result in her howling into the floor, her face turning red as saliva flows freely from her mouth.

 

Harriet: DON’T LET ME FALL! OH GOD, THERE’S NOTHING BETWEEN ME AND IT! NOTHING BETWEEN..

 

Crane: Oh dear. It appears you’ve willed incurable casadastraphobia into your old colleague, Tetch. Given the severity of this dosage, she is convinced she will plunge into the sky at any moment. Momentarily, she will try with all her might to burrow into the ground. What do you think the cause of death will be? Heart failure? Concussion?

 

Harriet’s knuckles snap and an even brighter hue of crimson engulfs her forehead as she slams her limbs and body into the tile.

 

Harriet: GET ME AWAY FRO-

 

A snap like celery rings out, and her thrashing halts.

 

Crane (terse): And the next, Tetch?

 

Tetch: I’m getting another signal. The clown drank up his toxins like warm milk; Time for dreamland!

 

Chortle: This is not cool! I want to see your degrees, both of yous!

 

Chortle seizes up. His gaze slowly tilts down himself, his eyes bulging as it reaches his legs. Ungodly shrieking ensues. He topples into the wall, seemingly fumbling for an item in his coat pockets and kicking his legs out as though he had stepped in an anthill.

 

Crane: Stop PLAYING, Tetch.

 

Tetch: But the INfinite possibilities! … Very well. One order of “Batmanophobia”, coming up!

 

Chortle grasps his kneecaps, fingertips digging deep into his skin through his trousers. Amidst the blood-curdling hollering, two wet pops, and he at once sinks back, prominent vacancies where the joints had been.

 

Crane: Genuphobia. Almost laughable.

 

I am next. Little more progress than a hairline rift has come from Harriet’s and my aggression. I feel a tingle as Tetch starts to invade my mind. Before he can establish contact, I strangle the consciousness that is about to be overtaken. It bursts like a cyst, gone in the blink of an eye. The agony is incomparable to any other I have felt.

 

Tetch (stamping his foot): No fair! He went down the rabbit hole!

 

Crane: … Oh. Now that IS very interesting. You severed the persona that Hatter took hold of. But you’re still here with us, aren’t you? We can keep at this until we finally get the REAL you in there. With so many characters embedded in you, you won’t run dry any time soon. You’re a renewable resource, Karlo. Fancy that.

 

I resume feebly pummeling the glass, as Tetch reels in more of my personalities. One after the other, before he can inject them with Crane’s desired phobia, I extinguish them, losing myself in excruciating fragments. I won’t outlast this. They will breach my defenses in no time whatsoever.

 

As all life seems to dim about me, I hear a muffled shattering. My glazed eyes observe a pair of lime green and orange boots crack Tetch right in the cheek, leading him to somersault over the control console and land on his face. His assailant… Walker. Humming his own rendition of the Superman cartoon’s theme.

 

Walker: Daaah dadadadaaah, bum bum bummm. Daaah dadadadaaah… KILL-er Mottthhh!

 

Crane: YOU.

 

He leaps at Killer Moth with hypodermic needles clutched in his glove. Walker retaliates by drawing his cocoon gun. One shot sticks Crane’s hand to his machinery, another grazing his temple and twisting his mask sideways. Crane roars as his free hand also clings to the substance when he goes to remove the disguise.

 

Walker: Heads up Bas!

 

He chucks a detonator at my prison. I am too weak to avoid the blast, as it demolishes the glass and splatters most of myself all about. Walker leaps in, and begins shoveling my matter back into a cohesive pile with his helmet.

 

Walker: Don’t sweat it pal, Killer Moth has never let down loyal customers. Your Moth Signal will function for 5 years without fail, or your money back!

 

Myself (woozy and fighting to expel Tetch’s remaining gadgets from my essence): I am indebted to your punctual rescue, however, I… purchased no alert beacon from you.

 

Walker (face drooping): You didn’t? I got a signal from…

 

I clamber over to Chortle, and extract a small implement from his pocket, sopping with blood.

 

Myself (tossing it to its manufacturer): Your devotee, it would seem.

 

Walker: Well, that’s… not going on my brochure. It’s already hard enough to market protection to all these hoodlums. My prices are equitable! You would THINK it’d be a piece of cake, selling extra help to such a cowardly and superstitious lot…

 

Myself: Is that a paraphrase?

 

Walker: Might’ve been Robert Louis Stevenson.

 

He calls over his shoulder to Crane.

 

Walker (chipper): Nothing personal, Scarecrow, but you can’t go around kidnapping my investors.

 

Slightly more corporeal, I limp towards Crane, who is still furiously pulling at the adhesive. I lean down to his level. The speech pattern I am able to manage is a hoarse gurgle.

 

Myself: The Batman’s wings will be clipped one day, Crane… But not by means of this fraudulent ploy. Gotham’s children should suffer only their sincerest fears…

 

I hold a clawed hand close to Crane’s face.

 

Myself: You concur, of course.

 

He nods, a mixture of loathing and trepidation swirling in his eyes.

 

Walker: You were going to off Batman without ME? Never mind, Crane, DO take this personally.

 

One more shot from Walker’s launcher conks Crane’s head back into the desk, putting him out like the light. With that, I start off for the exit. I can sense the gaping cavity where so many voices within me once resided. Hardly any of them linger.

 

Walker (catching up behind me): Hey, Bas! Take this, on the house. It’s still active.

 

I accept the blemished Moth Signal.

 

Myself (in a voice I do not recognize): … Couldn’t hurt.

 

***

 

} I am delighted to announce that this Killer Moth dialogue has been approved by the man himself. {

Being Kryptonian, I don't actually need to sleep. But there are some nights, like tonight, where closing my eyes and relaxing brings a sense of peace and serenity to myself. I don't want to think about everything that's going on right now. I haven't seen Chris in what seems like forever, even though he's only been missing for a couple of days. No ones seen him at school, and Clark hasn't seen him at the Fortress either. I'm getting a strange sense of déjà vu. Just one more thing to add unnecessary stress into my life. Exams are coming up soon, and my job has been pretty stressful recently with the increase of customers, but the lack of employees to take their orders. The moment that I do finally close my eyes, I'm brought back to the days before Krypton's destruction, when I was only a child. I was supposed to join the Science Guild, like my mother and father before me. Tali Zar, my best friend at the time, was destined to join the Military Guild. Everything planned out for us, like all other Kryptonians, since birth in the Genesis Chamber. What it didn't account for however, was me meeting Tan-On for the first time. A boy who was my age, born into a Rankless family, who was often ostracized by others due to his families status. The Rankless are those not part of a guild, and as such, are treated poorly by those in the guilds. But they have dreams, just like everyone else. It isn't fair to judge them for not joining a certain guild. Some of the best days of my life were spent with Tan-On. My feelings for him developed as time went on, wanting to be more than just friends, even though I was bound to someone else. I remember this night.. The night we took a Skimmer for a joyride throughout Astro City, seeing all the sights this beautiful city had to offer. I can't stop myself from smiling, and giggling at all of his corny jokes. I could stay in this moment forever, but it isn't long before I'm pulled out of this deep sleep by the ringing of my alarm going off.

 

After getting dressed, I can't help but check inside Chris' room hoping that something's changed. Nothing has though, as his room is still the same mess as it was yesterday. Simon's tried tracking Serling Roquette down, but so far, no luck. Alicia's taking to the streets as Flux, hoping that someone will know something we don't, but even after the broken bones, and bruised bodies, she's no closer to finding answers. So that leads me to the one person I really didn't want to ever see again, after all the pain he's caused. Harvest. While Clark was initially hesitant to tell me where Harvest's being held, mostly out of fear for me, he eventually gave in, texting me the address of the facility, in Midvale of all places. I'll stop by there, before going to school today. I notice that dad's already gone, as his shoes aren't on the shoerack while I'm walking down the stairs, into the living room. Guess he made me omelets today, going by the smell emanating from the microwave. Taking it out of the microwave, I sit down at the kitchen table, gobbling it down as fast as I can, since I'm kind of in a rush today. It isn't long before I'm in costume, and out the door, locking it behind me, as I make my way to the facility.

 

-------------------------

Unknown Detention Facility, Midvale

 

Upon landing, the guard outside greets leading me inside moments later. From there, the security chief leads me to where they're holding him. It's strange, seeing him without his hood and mask on. As he's still Simon, only older and evil, from an alternate future. Yeah, multiple timelines.. Still a weird concept to wrap my head around. The chief leaves, along with

 

"When they said I'd be receiving a visitor, I wasn't expecting it to be you, Kara Zor-El. Chris maybe, but you? Not likely." He laughs, clearly amused by me coming here.

 

"Chris is gone. But from that smirk you're giving me, you already know that, don't you?" I question.

 

"Ah, so the Pirate's got him. January already huh... You lose all sense of time in this place. What seems like hours, is days. Anyways, why would I tell you anything? Since after all, he murdered Feyris, amongst thousands of other people." He sneers in response.

 

"He would never do such a thing. Besides, that was your timeline, Simon. Your future, not ours. But if you don't give me something, maybe this city will turn out just as bad, with evil clones running rampant and all. While you may not care for metahumans, aliens, and gods, you still clearly care for Feyris. So please, tell me where Chris is, so that we can protect Feyris from what's coming." I insist, but it seems to fall on deaf ears.

 

"I'm the only one who can protect her!" He yells, his voice booming through the bars of his cell. After that sudden outburst, he calms himself back down, and speaks up once more.

 

"Now, getting to the point. I honestly don't believe you can protect her. Like I'm sure you've heard recently, everything the two of you touch dies. So with that being said, I will surprisingly tell you where your deadbeat brother is. On one condition." He says mockingly.

 

"And that is?"

 

"Feyris comes by for a visit! You see, it's been soo lonely this past month, and it would be nice to see her again." He responds, with a devilish grin forming.

 

"After what you've done? There's no way she'll come here!"

 

"Well I guess you're out of luck then! Your brother, stuck in a groundhog day of hell, watching everyone he cares about die over and over, until there's nothing left of his emotions. Just a husk of his former self. But what do I know, right? I'm just from some alternate future! Tick, tock, the clock's ticking! Better hurry up!"

 

"Tell me what I need to know, and I'll do my best to bring her here."

 

"Nope! That's not how this is going to work. You bring her here and we'll talk for a long while, and then, once I've said what I needed to say, and only then, I'll tell you where he is. Until that happens, my lips are sealed!" He taunts, knowing he has the upper hand.

 

"Fine. But you better stay true to that. Otherwise--"

 

"You'll beat me to a blood pulp, thereby almost killing me? Sounding more like your brother every day. It's a wonder why I ever had a crush on you.. Besides, you wouldn't dare do that. That would be tarnishing the hope the House of El represents. Also, it would prove that I was right all along. Bye for now, Supergirl!" He responds, interrupting me before I can finish my train of thought, as I start walking away from his cell, signaling the guards to come back. Just great.. To find my brother, I somehow have to convince Feyris to talk to this monster. Though, this could've gone a lot worse, I guess. Better get going to school, because otherwise, I'll be late.

Superboy POV

 

-------------------

 

The all out brawl continues in the Crucible, as me, Flux, and Sideways are fighting off the remnants of Harvest's army. There's other meta's helping us out, those that aren't so bloodthirsty. My heels dig into the rocky arena floor, as I'm getting hit from all sides from various projectiles. C'mon Kara, get that barrier down. I grit my teeth, as I try to push my way through the pain. Flux, and Sideways use their portals and rifts to redirect some of the projectiles towards the cluster of metas, knocking some of them out.

  

"Any progress?" I say, making sure Kara's able to hear me.

  

"Almost there." She replies, with a small nod.

  

"Ow, ow, ow!" I groan, as a speedster keeps punching me like I'm a speedbag or something. That is the right word for it, right? Sometimes, English is just strange. Freezing the arena floor around me with my cold breath, sure enough, the speedster isn't all that bright, as he trips and falls flat on his face.

  

"Nice one!" Alicia says, her voice modulated, as she looks over at me.

  

"You're not doing bad yourself!" I say with a whistle following.

  

"Could use a little help over here!" Sideways yells, as he's starting to get swarmed with meta's. He's rifting them away as best he can, but it's easy to tell it's taking a toll on him.

  

"On it!" I reply, swiftly flying over to him, grabbing one of the metas, and throwing him into one of the others.

  

The glass shatters, and with it, we all start flooding the observation deck, with the three of us joining the others. Harvest teleports away, leaving us to fight the guards, and the remaining metas. Crush is still up and at it, his stretching powers allowing him to dodge punches, and projectiles quite easily. The guards are able to shoot a couple of the stragglers, as I'm not able to get there in time.. Can't be everywhere at once unfortunately. Well one of the meta's can, but of course, she's on Harvest's side.

  

"Outburst coming through!" One of meta's yells, as he traps some of the guards with metal plating. Have to find Simon, and Feyris.. Navigating through the hallways of the facility, I check each room. But so far, there's nothing.. Punching my way through the guards, making sure not to kill them with the force of each blow, we finally reach the elevator. It opens, and we all get onboard. We reach the next level, but only me, Kara, and Flux get off at this point. The room branches off into 3 different hallways.

  

"3 of us, and 3 hallways. I don't really like the idea of splitting up, but we have to find them." Kara says, looking at me and Alicia, before flying down the left hallway.

  

"Rock paper scissors to see who goes down which hallway?!" I joke, before flying down the right hallway. To the left, and right of me, are doors, leading into rooms that have various containment pods, eerily similar to the one I was held in earlier. Without red sun energy that is.

  

"Stop right there Kryptonian!" The guard yells, noticing me snooping around. He shoots at me, and I definitely wasn't expecting it to hurt so much. How do they even know I'm Kryptonian anyway?? Only me, Kara, and Clark know. Neither of them would say anything. I mean, Clark told Lois the truth, so she probably knows we are too, but still. Something's not right about this.. I go crashing into one of the rooms, the guard grinning.

  

"That didn't feel so good, did it?" He taunts, coming closer, blast after blast of energy hitting me square in the chest. Noticing I'm right by one of the pods, I try to get up, but I'm struggling, as I just feel this weakness inside of me. Using the pieces of debris to push myself back up, I slam my hand down on the terminal, as hard as I can. The captive meta's eyes open, and start glowing purple, as he starts hitting the guard with these weird bricks constructs. Almost like a Green Lantern, but not. He's about to kill the guard when I yell

  

"Stop! You don't need to kill him! You're free, so just get out of this place."

  

"Chill man. I wasn't actually gonna kill him. I was just doing my civic duty! Muchas gracias amigo." The meta replies, scurrying through the guards coat, until he finds a keycard. He leaves through the hole in the wall moments later, floating on a wall of bricks. As I emerge from the room, I see the meta opening up the other rooms, and pods. None of them are Simon or Feyris. I meet up with the others, back in the main room, before going on the elevator once more.

  

"So? Any sign of them?" I ask, breaking the silence.

  

They both shake their heads. The elevator goes up two more floors, before it opens once more. It's one big room, with a throne at the other end of the room. Stone pillars are throughout the room, supporting the roof. On the left side, there they are. Simon, and Feyris, bound by restraints, and tied down. Simon looks at me as though he doesn't even recognize me. In front of them, is Harvest.

  

"Chris, Kara, ooh and Alicia. Guess I shouldn't be surprised.. You two were always joined by the hip, as it were. Should've known it would come to this." Harvest places the blade close to Feyris' cheek, a devilish grin forming.

  

"Not sure what you're talking about Harvest.. Just give up, and let them go before it's too late."

  

"No can do. It's the only way to keep them safe from what's coming."

  

"They don't look all that safe to me." I reply, as both Simon and Feyris are terrified.

  

"Not much I can do about how they feel about the situation. Necessary measures have to be taken sometimes to get the necessary results. It's like you, trying to protect your secret. I mean, Simon here is one of your closest friends, yet you don't even tell him you, Chris Danvers, and you, Kara Danvers, are Superboy and Supergirl for at least another 10 years. I'm simple speeding up that discovery, along with a few other things of course. Oh, here's a fun tidbit for everyone, cause I failed to mention this to Simon and Feyris earlier. These two-" He pauses, pointing at me and Kara.

 

"Are not even human at all! They're aliens! More specifically Kryptonians. Yeah, that's right! They're like Superman. Hence the very similar names. Spoilers Harvest, spoilers! Ohh yes, I know.. But really, I don't care. Changes to the timeline are good, as it'll bring about a better future. The timeline is malleable, and don't let any speedster tell you otherwise."

  

"Why didn't you tell us?" Simon, ignoring Harvest, says, his voice frail and horse.

  

"I, was afraid.. Afraid of how you all would react. That we, would get treated differently.. Seen as outsiders.. Kara makes friends pretty easily, but me? I'm too aggressive, and quite stubborn. I got expelled from my last high school for starting a fight, which ended with the other guy in a hospital bed. I didn't want to ruin a good thing. Knowing our identities makes you vulnerable to the very villains Kara and I fight. That's why I didn't tell you Simon. I'm sorry man." I pause, turning to face Alicia.

 

"Alicia, I'm crazy about you, and you know that. It's been tearing me up inside, not telling you the truth about where I came from. Honestly, I got pretty close to telling you a couple of times, especially after you opened up to me about your concerns, regarding your powers. I really hope this doesn't change anything."

  

"Why would it? You being an alien doesn't change anything. You're still Chris Danvers to me. Besides, it wouldn't be very fair of me to judge you being an alien, after all, you accepted me for being a meta." Alicia reassures me, holding me close to her with a hug.

  

"ALRIGHT! Enough of this! Can't believe I actually cheered this on when I was younger." Harvest fires a beam of green energy, and I make sure I'm the only one hit by it. But instantly, I regret it. It's a pain I haven't felt before. Kryptonite, in an energy form. My veins start to glow green, as my strength starts fading fast. Alicia tries to teleport, but nothing happens.

 

"Oops! Did I forget to mention, this room is lined with lead? Sorry, but I can't have you teleporting around." Harvest mocks, as he flies towards us, hitting me with the blunt end of the scythe when he gets close enough, which sends me flying across the room.

  

Kara blasts the scythe out of his hands with her heat vision. Doesn't make a difference though, as the scythe disappears, only to reappear in his hands, seconds later. As he gets closer, I can feel myself, not able to do anything. He's toying with me, not actually killing me, just punching me with the scythe in hand.

  

"We were friends once. But you let that power go to your head. Became judge, jury, and executioner. Slaughtered millions of humans that wouldn't obey you. Only those with powers could live in your utopia . My Feyris paid the ultimate price, dying right in front of me thanks to you and your army." Harvest raises his voice, almost to the point of yelling, when he takes off his mask, to reveal his face. It's Simon..

  

"Simon?! But how?" I ask, gasping for air.

  

"Seriously? That's what you're going to ask? It's pretty obvious when you think about it. Time Travel Chris.. Ten years, to be specific. There is no Simon Valentine anymore, only Harvest. The prime hunter to come back and take you down." Blood spattering from my nostrils, as he keeps punching my face. I can't let him win. I can't. It's then, that I see a ray of hope, as Alicia tackles him off me.

  

"Come on Simon. You're better than this! I know you. Always cracking jokes, tinkering with your gadgets, and experiments. You gave me the name Flux, even if you didn't know it at the time. Otherwise I probably would've been stuck with something stupid, like Skipstep or something." Alicia says, trying to snap him out of it.

  

"That boy was naïve to the cruelties of the world. Didn't realize the trouble that existed in front of his very eyes, until it was too late." The two of them struggle, rolling with each punch the other lands. Kara lands a blast of heat vision on the back of Harvest's neck, disorienting him for a second. This gives Alicia the opportunity to land a couple more punches off, which gets Harvest, or should I say future Simon, off of her. Kara frees our Simon, and Feyris, ripping off the restraints rather easily, as Harvest's Kryptonite Scythe is nowhere near her.

 

Unlucky me, as he's still within range of me, my veins throbbing. I can hear my heartbeat slowing down. After Simon and Feyris are up, and out of the chair, Kara puts all the force she can into one punch, knowing that she'll get weak the moment she gets near him. Sure enough, by the time she hits him, it's with one one thousandth of the power. Pretty much the power we regularly hold back to. He prepares an energy shield, but it isn't enough, as he gets sent flying through one of the pillars, and stopping right by his throne. It's enough to knock him out, though Kara's now on the ground. Finally, the glowing green veins of mine start to dissipate, as he's on the other side of the room.

 

"We better get out of here!" Simon says, as he runs towards me. Just barely managing to pick myself up, I lean on Simon and Alicia. Kara didn't have it as bad as I did, so she's up rather quickly, Feyris helping her slightly

 

"The room's going to collapse at any minute, and while Harvest did terrible things, he doesn't deserve to be left here to die."

 

"And how, do you suggest we help him, while just by being near him, you start dying? That's completely disregarding the fact that I-he killed far too many people. Metahumans or not, they are still human." Simon questions

 

"It's the scythe. Get that away from him, and we won't almost die anytime he's near us." Kara replies nonchalantly. Feyris runs over to Harvest, taking the scythe from his hands, and placing it at the furthest point in the room. She then starts dragging him over to us.

 

"Uh, a little help here. You're lucky I'm even doing this after the crap he's put us through. I'm tired, my hair and makeup's a mess. This is not a good day." Feyris says with clear annoyance. Alicia runs over to help her, and when he's close enough, Kara picks him up and over her shoulder. We make a break for it, trying to get out as fast as we can. But what I really need, is some sunlight..

Hey guys, just wanted to make this post because after seeing Suicide Squad (read review here: www.flickr.com/photos/antdude3001/28699669551/in/datepost... ), I said that I'd like to see a sequel.

I've been thinking of who I'd like to see be part of the team if there'd be a sequel so here's my list of villains I'd like to see part of the team plus who I'd like to see the Suicide Squad face off against! My criteria to choose who I'd want to join was based on 3 things:

1. More Metahumans

2. More Diversity

3. More villains that aren't just Batman villains

Now I wouldn't like to see ALL of these guys join the squad because then it'd be too crowded, so I'm thinking if like one or two of these guys were in the squad that'd be good. So without further ado, here's who I'd like to see in Suicide Squad 2!

 

Black Manta: Now I hope he's in Aquaman, and if he is I hope he lives through it to be in the Squad because Black Manta of course is good in the water but he's also a tactical expert, so he'd be good at calling out the shots during the mission.

 

Plastique: Now I wouldn't mind the version of Plastique if she was a metahuman or just a demolition expert, because her skill set would make for some great action which I feel was missing in the first movie.

 

Poison Ivy: Now I want Ivy because she's a great metahuman and she'd have some great chemistry with Harley Quinn!

 

Cheetah: Cheetah would be a great addition because there'd be a Wonder Woman villain in the Squad and we could see her get captured by Wonder Woman in the beginning of the movie like we did with the other villains in the first movie. Cheetah could also add to some more acrobatic action to the movie which I expected from Harley but didn't really get at all.

 

King Shark: Now I now Killer Croc is kindof the replacement for King Shark in this movie universe, but I think it would be cool to have both King Shark and Killer Croc on the squad and the could have a bromance or something like that to add more to the character of Killer Croc. Plus King Shark is a Flash and Aquaman villain so I'd like to see how they would handle that.

 

Deathstroke:

Now for the main villain I chose Deathstroke because what I didn't like from Suicide Squad is that the villain felt too big for them in terms of powers, like she felt more like a Justice League villain. I want to see Deathstroke and his militia maybe like start a coup in some foreign country and the Squad has to go off and stop him. It would be a rather small scale story for the DCEU, but it would be effective.

 

Also, this doesn't have to do with characters or anything but my last request if they ever make make a Suicide Squad 2 is please PLEASE take your time with this movie! I can wait for a Suicide Squad 2 so please use that time to work on your script and everything so we don't end up like what we have right now.

 

So those are my ideas about Suicide Squad 2. I think I'm going to do this more often when Superhero movies come out, like just give my ideas on what I think should happen in a sequel! Anyways, tell me what you think in the comments below and what you would like to see in Suicide Squad 2!