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Cyborg #38 - Overclocking

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Author: Commander_Z

Book: Cyborg

Arc: On the Grid

Set: 74

Part 1: Destruction of the Self

Five pots of coffee was how long Victor Stone’s - or, more accurately GRID’s- latest crime busting spree had been going. GRID had Vic pursue his targets relentlessly, from start to stop he would work, regardless of how long it had taken. And this one had now almost taken two and a half days straight of work. Which was odd. The target was only a small-time drug dealer from the east side and he had been far too slippery for his status, something that was driving GRID insane.

And so, the 61st hour and the sixth pot of coffee started. GRID sipped the coffee straight from the pot and scanned the internet for any trace of him. Security cam footage, social media photos, map data from his phone… Nothing. It’s like he had fallen into a deep abyss or had become a hermit, completely cut off from the world. None of the other cases had been this tough. It had been a busy three weeks of busting gangs, robbers and murderers… But his one dealer had -

GRID felt a tap on his - or more accurately, Vic’s- shoulder. He snapped around, looking his sister directly in the eyes. “Yes?”

“Vic, it’s 4 am on a Saturday. Why are you up, let alone making coffee?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Crime doesn’t sleep and so I will not either.” GRID took another sip of coffee.

“It’s not my place to judge - I’ve had some late nights too - but seriously, get some sleep. How long has it been? I swear I only see you to grab a pot of coffee before you head back out there.”

“I have been awake 61 hours and 3 minutes. But I am close, Nic. So close to cracking this case.” Vic yawned, then took another drink of coffee.

“Okay, it is my place to judge after all. Go to bed Vic. No one thinks straight after like 24 hours, 60 is absurd.”

“I can. And I need to keep people like that off the streets.”

“Like what? Didn’t you say this was some small-time dealer? It’s a problem, sure. But it’s not worth killing yourself over.”

“I am not killing myself. I am just doing what is logical here,” he said, finishing off the pot of coffee before starting to rinse it in the sink.

“Vic, you’ve just chugged a pot of coffee in..” she leaned around Vic to check the time on the microwave. “About 3 minutes at 4 am after being up over 2 days straight. You’re not acting healthy. Take a nap, talk with someone, get some help. If this case is so important to you, we can work on it together, but don’t just keep trying to do it yourself. We’re supposed to be partners, re-”

“I do not need any help. I do not need to talk to anyone either. They would just distract me.”

“Look, at least send a text to Gar. He’ll be able to talk some sense into you.”

“What part of “ I do not need to talk to anyone” do you not get?” Vic said, raising his voice. “Besides, I have blocked his number and anyone else who might want to distract me from my work. He is not worth the time while there is work to be done.”

Nic blinked. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re not my brother are you?”

“Of course I am? I am Victor Stone,” GRID said.

“No. No you’re not. You might look like him, and sound like him, but you’re not him. Come back when you are. I can’t see you doing this to yourself anymore.”

Vic rubbed his eyes, then yawned. “You misunderstand. I am more powerful than you. If anyone is leaving, it’s you.”

Nic started to speak, then stopped, astounded by her brother threatening her. “You’re disgusting. I don’t know what’s going through your head… But I want none of it. I don’t know if you’re possessed or under someone’s control but…”

“I am under no one’s control but my own. I am just seeing the world through clear eyes for once.You could too…”

“No. If seeing the world with clear eyes means living like that, destroying yourself and the connections with people you cherish… I’ll keep my eyes closed.”

“Then leave. I have no use for someone who knows the truth and ignores it.”

Nic stood, mouth agape and said, “Call me when you’re ready to explain this.” She grabbed her purse and walked right out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Vic shrugged, then sat down on the couch. “I think that went well.”

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the police reports. “Now where are you…”

Part 2: Trip to the Villainous Side

The riverwalk was strangely cool for a summer afternoon. The small park was an isle of calm in the city, a tiny oasis in the concrete jungle. Mikron O'Jeneus never did like parks. Too many bugs, too many people… But he’d recently discovered that crowds were an asset once he started his life of crime. Sure, you can blend into a crowd, but their real value was protection. No one would be stupid enough to attack you with a thousand witnesses around, not unless you had really pissed someone powerful off.

But Mikron hadn’t. Well, he had. Many people in fact. But they weren’t why he was here. Instead, he was here for a meeting.

He looked down at his phone. She was late.

‘No surprise. She hadn’t been on time for one of these yet. Pretty sure she doesn’t even know how to read a clock…’

He pulled out his phone again and started browsing the internet. Never was anything interesting on it, no matter how much he scrolled…

“Hello. My apologies for my tardiness; I was not aware of how far I ended up from our meeting point. How has the past week treated you?”

The Indian sorceress was wearing the same gray hoodie and black jeans she was last week and the week before that. Her pink hair was getting dark with dirt and grime, but that was none of his business. He didn’t care where she had been staying these three weeks, only that she hadn’t been taken in by GRID or joined him yet.

“It’s going. Been keeping things quiet since GRID struck out on his own. You’ve heard what he and Cyborg have been doing right?”

She nodded. “They have been out all throughout the days, hunting people, bringing them in. I too have kept things quiet, hoping to avoid their ire.”

Mikron nodded, relieved, then stopped. “Wait, why are you still even here? There’s nothing in this city for you but danger, right? Didn’t you say two weeks ago you were going to leave?”

“I… I was planning on it. I am planning on it. But not yet. I have… more to finish before I can leave.”

“Listen, it’s only a matter of time before they stop going after small-time people and start going after people like us. I’ve got a job and connection here.. But you? Just go. Save yourself the hassle , the hiding… leave.”

“Mikron, I respect your opinion, but we are not friends. We are not partners. We are allies at best. I do not ask about your business and you do not ask about mine. We work together to ensure that we both can still exist in this increasingly dangerous environment and nothing more. Understand?”

“Loud and clear. Then if you have nothing to report and neither do I…. see you next week?”

“I think that you two will be seeing each other before then. I have a job for you both.”

Gizmo turned over and glared at the newcomer, a teenage girl in a black hoodie wearing a purple bandana that covered the bottom half of her face.

“Who the hell are you?” Mikron demanded.

“I’m hurt, Mikron. I figured you’d remember me since I’m the only one who's beaten that machine. Or do you and your men get ass kicked so much it’s tough to remember?”

“Thespian,” he hissed. “You’re not making a good impression.”

“I’m not trying to. Believe me, if I thought I could do it alone, I’d never come to you both for help. But something has to change. Vic’s gone off the deep end, going so deep into his work he’s basically killing himself. I think GRID’s got a hold of him somehow and I need your help to stop him.”

Mikron frowned. “GRID did talk about ‘getting Vic to see his point of view’. Didn’t really think he could have actually succeeded.”

“I don’t care if he did. If GRID beat some stupid idea into him, we’ll beat it out of him.”

“What makes you think we even could do that?” Mikron asked. “Jinx and I have fought Vic before and lost and you fought GRID before and stalemated.”

Nic started to speak but Mikron held up a finger. “You may have been winning in that moment, but he was going to adapt and win, if he’s to be believed. He’s claimed that nothing that beats him once can beat him again. I didn’t believe him then…. But I do now, I think. And we aren’t beating that. ”

“Whether we can beat that machine or not, I believe that I have some responsibility to help out. Victor was only in that prison because he was visiting me. If you feel that I can help him, I am obligated to do so.”

“I can respect that,” Nic said. “And you Mikron? What’ll it take for you to get on board too?”

He sighed. “You’re not going to take no for an answer are you? Fine. Here’s what I want: I want a get out of jail free card. If I ask for it, you’ve got to let me go for one crime I’m committing. I’m bailing you out here, it’s the least you could do.”

“That’s absurd. I can’t just let you do whatever you want, that goes against everything we do out here.” “One time. One time, you look the other way. No murder, no torture… Nothing nasty, promise. Just some… gray market fundraising you could say.”

“I’ll regret this, but fine. You’ve got a deal. You better pull your weight here…”

Part 3: Fight for Your Life

Vic’s mind had been a whirlwind since GRID had told him that he was in control. To look out at your own body, hear your own voice but not be the one in control was something he could barely comprehend. It didn’t feel real, like he was watching a video of some 3D model someone made. But GRID assured him it was very real. Deep down, Vic knew it was too, but being trapped in his own body wasn’t something he was prepared to deal with. “GRID, how much longer do you plan on doing this? You’ve made your point, you’ve shown me who and what you are. But it’s not me.”

Vic stood in a pitch black room, sort of like a stage. In front of him was something of a window, where he could look out and see through his eyes. He could hear what his body could hear, but there were no speakers that he could see either. He could see perfectly, like it was a bright sunny day, but there was nothing around him to see beyond the view outside his eyes.

Then, there was.

GRID materialized in front of him, in the same large, patchwork robotic body that Vic first saw him in down by the docks. While the machine had no way to mimic emotions physically, Vic still detected an aura of smugness from him. “Have you seen enough yet? Surely even you can see how much good I am doing in the world? How much you could be doing, right now? Imagine how much more we could be doing if we were truly working together.”

“I’d be more accepting if you weren’t killing me and tanking my grades to do it!”

“Nonsense. Next week we will make up all of your class work, take your exams and your grades will be fine. I estimate after 12 days of consciousness you will need 2.3 days of rest to recover and then we will return to work. Human bodies are much more resilient than your feelings generally make you believe them to be. And, if we find this man sooner, you will be -”

Vic fired off a rapid blast of energy at GRID, but he simply phased away, the energy passing harmlessly through him as if he was a ghost.

“Victor, Victor, Victor. You think that you can attack me here? ‘Here’ is not even a place. I am a delusion created by me in your mind to help you rationalize what is happening. You cannot attack a delusion more than you can your own thoughts.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Violence makes you feel better? Curious. Regardless, put your eyes on the monitor. Something interesting is about to happen: I have finally reached our mark.”

Vic rolled his eyes but turned them towards the monitor. He was in a grimey alley, filled with trash cans and boxes of mostly empty old bottles. Vic didn’t see anyone else down the alley, but with as many nooks and crannies and bins were down here, it’d be easy to not see anyone even if they weren’t trying to be inconspicuous.

Then he saw someone. They were far down, but walking towards him.

“Stand down. This is Cyborg; you are under arrest,” GRID said through Cyborg’s body.

But the person kept walking towards them.

Suddenly, GRID felt a sharp impact to the back of his legs - a kick most likely. He quickly pivoted on his feet, and saw her - the Thespian- with her fists raised in a guarded stance. He turned around again, hearing the footsteps get closer and saw Gizmo blocking the path deeper into the alley. “Hmm. Of course that tip was fake. Someone that slippery would not appear so suddenly, so carelessly. But the sucker punch was not expected. Like brother, like sister ,I suppose.” GRID said, shifting Vic’s arms to force blasters.

He shot a barrage of blasts from each arm, one towards each of his assailants. Neither of them were significantly bothered by the attack, but it bought GRID time. Time to assess the situation and plan his method of assault. He decided to turn his focus towards his sister and, turning his back on Mikron, began his assault. A small amount of fog started to grow in the alley like smoke, starting low, just barely covering their shoes. The fog obscured Nic’s feet, making the machine’s job of predicting her moves harder, taking his predictions from 95% accuracy down to a measly 87%. Almost every attack was met with a perfect dodge, block, or worse, attack of his own. One, two, three of GRID’s strikes hit the Thespian in the ribs, then a force blaster to both knees to knock her to the ground. Satisfied she was taken down for now, he turned to Gizmo, casually dodging out of the way of some of the missiles that he launched at GRID.

Mikron activated his spider mech, trying to keep some distance from him and GRID. He started to climb up the buildings in the alley, but GRID aimed his force blasters at the ground and launched himself upwards, grabbing ahold of one of the spider legs and dragging Gizmo to the ground with him as he fell. They hit the ground in a crunch, many of the Gizmo’s mechs legs breaking under his weight when he landed on them. The fog was thicker now, almost obscuring the two men from seeing each other despite being almost on top of each other.

Cyborg looked on at the conflict, pissed that he was stuck in his own mind during all this. He felt as if he was personally beating up these people who were trying to help him, but what really got to him was the helplessness. Looking back out the monitor, he noticed something that GRID had not reacted to yet – the fog had a slight pink tinge to it. Grinning, he started to feel a bit more confident that he had a chance of getting out of here yet.

GRID was the first to recover from his and Mikron’s fall and began to charge up force blasts. But just before he reached the desired energy levels, Mikron launched a strange mesh net over top of GRID, pinning him to the ground.

“Heh, that’ll hold you,” Mikron gloated, removing the backpack that housed his spider-mech. “That’s anchored right into the concrete and that net asks as a rudimentary Faraday cage. You won’t be transmitting any signals back to your real body, at least not as quickly as you otherwise would.”

POP! POP! Each of the pins keeping the net to the ground began to flex and groan as GRID started to force himself onto his feet, ripping them from the asphalt.

“Petty tricks will not defeat me, Mikron. Cyborg used a Faraday cage against an enemy months ago and I prepared for the possibility. This is no mere receiver of my body’s thoughts: it is a full copy of my consciousness uploaded to Victor Stone. If I lose a connection between the parts, there is no loss of commands. And a couple of concrete pinions is nowhere near enough to restrain me. A juvenile attempt, truly.”

GRID launched a flash grenade towards Mikron, ending to finish him off, but suddenly the fog swelled up like a fountain spewing out water. It hung in the air, blocking any vision of his two foes. GRID looked around for them, but couldn’t see any sign of them through the fog. As the monitor filled with fog, Vic heard a voice in his ears and turned around to see GRID, standing in front of him in the inky blackness. While he turned, for a split moment he noticed that the fog had made its way into here, and started to disperse onto the floor, making it look like it was carpeted. But still GRID paid it no heed.

“Look what you could do if you simply wanted to win. Look who you could be. All you need to do is seize your power and you could do this every time. No one short of Superman could stand up to you if you only cared enough to focus yourself.”

“I focus myself on everything I do. But I still do everything. Because that’s me. Not some hyper focused superhero machine. Just a guy, trying to get by and find himself.”

The fog started to fill even this space, filling it so thick it was as if a cloud descended. “This fog… Why? What is it?” GRID asked. He ran his hand through it, intrigued. “There should be nothing here, and yet… It is. Why?”

“I can’t say for sure. But I don’t know what it’s for… But I have a guess.”

GRID looked at Vic, eyeing him up. “And what might that be?”

Cyborg’s response was a force shot, hitting GRID directly in the chest, knocking him over, down onto the ground. Vic ran over and put his foot down on the robot, pinning him to the ground.

“Taking you down when you’re too stubborn to consider it. It’s just fog I’m sure you thought, what could it do? You didn’t even consider that something you couldn’t understand could be your undoing, because how could it?”

“You will learn. There is no end without me. You can struggle all you want. I am still here,” GRID hissed.

“You are, that’s true. But so are they,” Vic said, gesturing to the monitor. Gizmo, the Thespian and Jinx stood within the machie’s view, clearly trying to figure out if he was going to attack them again.

“You’ve beaten two of them now, sure. But all four of us at once? Even you have to know that’s too much. Give it up.”

GRID let out what Vic guessed was supposed to be a sigh, but sounded more like a vent letting off steam. “Very well. You have won. Any further attempts at this will just lead to your body taking more permanent damage, which is not my goal. One day, you will see sense. And on that day - ”

“Cut it out with that crap. If you really want to make things better for me, make yourself better. Understand who you are and why you exist. Get that figured out, then try and get me to change my mind. You can’t help me be better until you’ve made some sense of your own existence. You’re more than some program my dad made. You’re you.”

GRID’s lights faded for a moment, then the machine nodded. “I will be back one day, Cyborg.” GRID faded out of Vic’s mind and Vic felt a weight lift. He never realized how… crowded it felt with another being in his mind. With him gone, he felt the fog carry him out of the black void he’d been in and back into his body as sleep began to grasp him.

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

Ten minutes later.

Victor Stone woke up with a splitting headache and was completely exhausted. He looked around him, trying to get some bearings. To answer his question, he noticed that he was leaning up against a trash can and quickly stood up and brushed himself off.

He heard two people… Nic and Jinx? Talking to someone on the phone down the alleyway, but they hung up soon after Vic came in earshot.

“Hey. Sorry about all that,” Vic said.

“How do I know it’s really you and not still that robot?” Nic said, cautiously.

“Well, I feel like I could sleep for a week, eat an entire pizza then sleep for another week. Doubt any robot would admit to that.”

She laughed. “No, no he wouldn’t. Welcome back Vic.”

“Thanks, good to be back. You wouldn’t believe what it’s like to not have control of your actions…” He shuddered. “Never again.” Vic turned to Jinx. “Was that your spell, with the fog? That really saved me there, can’t imagine what would have happened there without it.”

“Consider us even then. That was a spell for exorcising demons. I was not sure that it would work in this context but am glad that it did.”

“Demons? Those are real?”

“Of course,” Jinx said. “But they are not often seen on this plane, so one likely has nothing to worry about regarding them.”

Vic and Nic laughed nervously but did not pry further into her remark, not liking where that topic would likely end up.

“So, putting that aside… What’s next for you Jinx? You’re out of jail now, legally or not.”

She paused and looked at Nic, who nodded. “Circumstances have changed. S.T.A.R. Labs have decided that sending me back home would not be productive and is largely against my own wishes. They also have decided there is no further requirement to keep me there. But, they have legitimate concerns about my ability to enter society , and Mrs. Charles offered herself as my caretaker. I will be working and staying with her for the immediate future.”

“Wow, that’s quite the offer. Hope it goes well for - ” Vic stopped himself from yawning mid-sentence. “I’d love to chat more but I’ve got almost a week of sleep to catch up on… And two weeks of class…”

He groaned. “Going to be a fun couple of weeks for me. But hey, better than being possessed… Barely.”

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Author: FrostFireFive

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Book: Batman

Arc: Time Out

Set: 113

The smoke rose from the sewer grates, an unnatural, man-made fog that held the city in its grasp.  Not many people were out on a moonlit night, not with how crime had corrupted the city.  People stayed inside, far away from the glistening futures they all wanted.  All except Burt West, walking alone after a date had stood him up.

“Jesus, what is this the fourth time?”  Burt mumbled to himself.  “You got to get yourself better chances man.”

The loner walked through the night.  Not caring anymore and not paying attention as he crossed into the alley, a shortcut to his small apartment.  So alone in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the two characters creeping next to him, or the guns in their hands.

“Give us all you got!” One of the muggers said.

“Yeah! And fast!” The other said.

“OK, OK,” Burt said as he pulled his wallet and tossed it on the ground.  “Just…don’t hurt me.”

“You tossed it on the ground chump, should give us some respect.  You know I think we ought to make you an example.”

“Yeah! Kill you and we’ll tell people not to screw with us.”

“Please…don’t hurt me,” Burt trembled as the goons cocked their guns.

Before they could pull the trigger, a figure from above dropped down like a bat out of hell.  Smacking the first mugger hard to the ground before turning and looking to Burt.

“Run!” The figure said in a gravelly voice as he grabbed the other goon and slammed him hard against the wall.  The criminal could clearly see his grey bodysuit with molded pecs and a domino mask obscuring his face, the black eye paint below it accentuating his piercing blue eyes. 

“Who…who are you…” The goon muttered.

“I’m…the GREY GHOST!” The Grey Ghost called out.

“CUT!” Peter Malley said from his director’s chair.  “That was swinging Trent, swinging!”

“You think so?” Simon Trent Jr. asked as he let go of his fellow actor and turned to the director.  “I really think I need another take, man.  Something to really sink my teeth into.  I just…haven’t found it yet.”

“Nah baby I think you got it,” Malley said.

“I sure hope so, we’ve already seen five takes of this scene,” Selina Kyle muttered from her chair.  “I mean there’s only so many times you can say the Greeeeey Ghooooost.”

“It’s supposed to be Beware the Grey Ghost, the announcer used to stretch out the title, not the actual Ghost,” Bruce Wayne explained, sitting next to his partner.  “When the studio invited us to see the filming I was expecting something more…accurate.”

“Mr Malley wanted to do his own take Mr. Wayne.  I mean, the show was great for the time, but we feel it’s time to update and modernize the character for a four quadrant audience,” Sondra Fuller explained.  The Waynes had arrived in Santa Marta to check in on the movie they had helped bankroll.  While the location shooting had mostly taken place taken place in Gotham, the real meat of the production was being held here, something her benefactors were none too pleased by.

“He doesn’t even look like the Ghost,” Bruce explained.  

“A hat and trenchcoat are so sixties, we took inspiration from real heroes.  People want their own Batman.  And this new Ghost will give the people what they want.  We focus tested the air brushed abs and the ladies loved it,” Sondra explained.

Selina chuckled from her seat before getting the glare from Bruce.  It was funny, seeing him genuinely a fan of something.  He was already showing Tommy some of the later Grey Ghost cartoons as he went up against foes like the Mad Bomber, the Saboteurs, and even the dreaded Captain Stingaree.  It was rare to see Bruce care about something so…trivial.

“I mean I certainly think it would hide his performance,” Selina commented.

“We can work on it,” Sondra continued.  “Besides that acting coach I’m paying for has worked wonders for my other talent…Simon just has his own ideas.”  

“Ideas that are costing us dearly,” A man said as he approached to the three.  “Honey, it’s going to be hard to actually market this film if we’re trying to be super serious but have a ham as our star.”

“Preston, I know you’re nervous but not in front of the Waynes,” Sondra defused the situation. “Bruce, Selina, our writer/co-producer, Preston Payne.”

“Sorry, it’s just the studio needs this to be a hit, recently…costly flops have made the pictures business more volatile than it should be,” Preston Payne said.  “Plus that has-been you got to train Trent is late again.  What’s the point of a coach if he can’t even bother to help the le-”

“Because I need to make an entrance!” Basil Karlo explained.  The actor’s face was still distinct as ever, with its sharp angles and friendly eyes, features that made Karlo a fixture on the creature features.  Movies like The Terror, Brother Power: The Geek, and The House of Suspense.  Monsters of yesteryear that had faded from the public's memory, much like Karlo himself.  “And besides, I was training with young Trent until he left, saying I had no idea how to get the most out of him.”

“Did you at least show him the original series?” Bruce asked after taking in the characters gathered around him.  When he sought to help support this film, he assumed the picture business was simpler, more focused on art.  Selina Kyle chuckled behind him, knowing how profit always seemed to come first. 

“My dear boy, I tried,” Karlo explained.  “But he has his own ideas, and I can’t deal with him anymore.  For god sakes Sondra I could do better than this buffoon.  Was my reel that bad.”

“Not bad…just old, Karlo,” Sondra explained. “Alright Malley, let’s take it from the top one more time! Trent…maybe a little less…big.”

“But I’m the big time,” Trent explained, flashing a toothy grin.  But anything for you, boss.”

“This is a nightmare,” Bruce mumbled.

“I’m having fun,” Selina said with a smile.  Besides, you can take me to that gala later tonight, and you can tell me more about this…Grey Ghost.  Not like anything’s going back on at home.”

…

“Goddamn it,” the Red Hood mumbled as he clung to the top of the truck.  He had been investigating a new player in the Gotham drug scene, managing to track down one of his distribution centers.  The new drug, Saber, had made its way to the young and meek, and those were the people the Red Hood protected. 

“Jason, why am I clocking you on the evening news right now?” the voice of Oracle came through his helmet.

“Barbara? I thought I disconnected you from my comms!” Red Hood said as he continued to climb forward on the truck.

“Jason, just tearing out random wiring doesn’t mean you destroy the comms capability,” Oracle explained.  “So I’m going to ask you again. Why am I seeing you on the evening news right now.” 

“Found a new supplier, decided to put him out of business,” He explained.  “You know like we’re supposed to do.”

“The whole point of us in the Belfry is to be a team Jason, you know… share information,” Oracle continued on.

“Like you and Grayson sharing spit again? No thanks.”

“How do you…it’s nothing,” Oracle stammered.  

“Uh huh,” Red Hood explained.  He had a…complicated relationship with Barbara Gordon.  As kids, he always felt like they had a connection, with her sneaking him books from the library, or helping him be one of Bruce’s little robins.  But it had been his anger that led to her being paralyzed when she was caught in the crossfire between Jason and Deadshot.  He thought he had fixed his rage using the same healing pools that gave Babs her legs back.  Despite his efforts, it still bubbled up, and she remained cold to the anti-hero.

"So, are you going to try and help or just keep talking in my ear all night?" he snapped.

“Sorry, I’ve got a tub of ice cream and some Never Ending Battle to play, no chance I’m squeezing back into spandex tonight.”

“But you will wear a ratty Netscape Navigator t-shirt and shorts that have definitely shrunk in the wash,” Red Hood teased as he could hear bullets whiz by him.  “Classic Barbara.”

“You know if I knew you were going to insult me I wouldn’t have called for back up,” Oracle said with an annoyed tone as she pulled on her shorts.  “Help’s on the way, just don’t do something dumb.”

“Help, who the hell did you ge-” Red Hood said before several bird-shaped shurikens punctured the front tire of the truck and jerked it forward along with the Red Hood.  “Son of a bitch!” 

The anti-hero let go of the truck, flying in the air before rolling on the ground.  His armored jacket was taking most of the damage as he could hear the groans of the goons inside.  The stunt was smart…yet reckless.  Which could mean only one thing.

“Perfect take down,” Robin said.  “You know, if you weren’t busy trying to be an action hero all the time, you would know there are smarter ways to take down your prey.

“Hello Tim,” Red Hood mumbled, the night about to get much longer.

…

“I have to ask, how did you learn how to ballroom dance?” Selina Kyle asked as the soft music played at the O’Neil Conservatory, host to the Galaxy Films’ gala. 

“Huh,” Bruce said as he and his partner swayed as the music played.  “Like every skill I learned, I trained for six months with some of the best dancers in the world,”

“Please tell me you’re not serious,” Selina asked.

“My mother taught me when I was seven,” Bruce explained.  “Said that us Wayne gentlemen had to be good dance partners.  She loved swaying to Chet Baker.  Something about the melodies I suppose.”

“Well you’re better than me,” Selina explained, her high heels awkwardly clacking as she kept pace on the floor.  “All these balls and galas and I still can’t get the tempo right.”

“We could sit back down, I do need to talk to Fuller about this…boondoggle of a movie,” Bruce said through gritted teeth.

“Boondoggle? I think it’s kinda charming, besides does the legacy of the Grey Ghost really matter if you’re helping Gotham?”

“It’s not about that,” Bruce said.  “It’s about…”

“You replaced me with that!” A man in bandages yelled out towards Fuller and Payne.  The man was holding up the Grey Ghost poster, where Simon Trent Jr.’s scowl surrounded the floating heads of the other members of the cast. 

“Hagen,” Fuller said.  “Not here, not now.”

“When is the right time then to call you? Huh?” The man continued to argue.  “You seem to have lost my number, my socials, you won’t even let me to the door of the mansion you built on the back of me!”

“Matt…I swear, it’s not like…”  Fuller tried to cut in.

“Sondra is everything OK,” Bruce asked as he and Selina had stopped their dance in the midst of the commotion.

“It’s just…someone we had to get rid of to make sure your movie would be a success,” Fuller continued.

“So you’re Wayne huh?” The man said.  “You know who I am? You know what she did for your precious movie.  She thought I didn’t look young enough for her precious blockbusters, pushed me harder and harder.  And guess what happened to me!”

The man grabbed the bandages covering his head and ripped them off, the dirty gauze falling to the ground as the face of Matt Hagan could be seen to a crowd gasping in horror as his one bulging eyeball, the other sunken into his face, as half of his teeth were exposed.  Several scars pocketed his face, as if someone had slashed away everything that had made him one of Hollywood’s brightest lights.

“Security!” Sondra Fuller called out as men grabbed Hagan and took him away from the ballroom.  “And Matt…the only one who ruined your career was yourself!”

“Who…who was that?” Selina asked.

“Mattew Hagan,” Sondra Fuller said.  

“Wasn’t he handsome once?” Selina asked.  

“And a star.  His performance as Nathaniel Dusk was incredible, Alfred shortlisted it for me to watch to understand what makes movies interesting.  Plus he was the only one who could make something as silly as Captain Triumph work,” Bruce said.

“And now he’s someone who isn’t important. But what is important is the ambitious CGI sequences we have planned for the shoot.  We just need a little more money?”  Fuller said with a toothy grin.

Bruce Wayne was beginning to hate Hollywood.

…

“Come on keep up!” Robin shouted as he darted across the Gotham rooftops. 

“I am,” Red Hood said through gritted teeth as he leapt across some of the decrepit buildings that aligned Gotham’s Bowery District.  “But some of us aren’t wearing light weight spandex.”

“It’s a titanium carbon weave,” Robin responded.  “And I’m not the one who focuses more on brute force than anything else.”

“Touché,” Red Hood said.  He had spent a solid thirty minutes trying to tell Robin and Oracle he didn’t need back up, especially when he had been working the case for the past two months by himself.  Jason Todd always hated how people made assumptions about him.  Just because he had abandoned the spandex and outdated morality, it didn’t mean he wasn’t just as much of a detective as the dynamic duo.  “But we also don’t want to give ourselves away.”

“We have the advantage.  Two people with training against…,” Robin began before realizing he hadn’t asked much about the Red Hood’s prey.  “Who were these guys again?”

“They call themselves the Blades,” Hood explained.  “A new street gang that moved in about two months ago.  Normally guys like these wave guns around, these guys use swords.”

“Swords? Come on, swords in Gotham?” Robin asked.

“Bruce has fought walking snowmen, deadly riddles, and a killer clown.  But you’re drawing the line at swords?” Red Hood asked as Robin continued to dart ahead of him,

“Well yeah,” Robin responded. “With the tech and fear Batman brings, wouldn’t they be carrying something that could stop us?”

“They’re no joke,” Red Hood responded. “And something’s different, Gotham’s weird, but it’s not  this weird.  These guys are trained, have discipline, and swords that’ve nearly cut through my jacket.”

“Ooh a leather jacket nearly got cut,” Robin joked.  

“It’s not just leather,” Red Hood responded, his breath growing heavier.  Jason wondered if he was as fast in that damn costume, he wondered.

“Well, they’re not going to bring me down,” Robin said with a smile as he leapt into the air, his cape extending outward to glide.  Tim Drake loved moments like these, where he could touch the open air in his hand and see Gotham as the glorious metropolis it was.  He was Robin, the boy wonder, and nothing was going to take this away from him.

SHINK

The first dagger cut through the left of Robin’s cape, opening an air pocket that caused his fluid glide to change into a shaky flight.

“What the!” Robin said.

“Oracle! I know you’re listening!” Red Hood called out.

“I see it, I see it!” Oracle’s voice cut into both of their communications.  “Tim, lean ri-

The second dagger cut into the right of the cape, sending the hero into a dive towards the bright lights of the Gotham streets.

“Jason! He’s falling fast, you need to do something,” Oracle rang out.

“I know!” Red Hood yelled out.

“Guys!” Robin called out as his hands awkwardly tried to pull the grapple gun from his belt, the  g-force from his fall making it near impossible as he reached for his salvation. “I can’t…I can’t…”

“No…not again, not again,’ Jason mumbled as his mind drifted back to the last time one of his partners was caught in the crossfire.  He began full-on sprinting across the rooftop, his muscles aching as he tried to remember the lessons Dick had taught him about catching someone during a trapeze act.  

“Sorry, Grayson, I never had your grace,” Red Hood mumbled as he leapt into the air, one arm reaching for the falling wonder while the other pulled out his grappling gun.  The bulky vigilante barely grasped Robin in his hand, pulling him in for a bear hug as his grappling gun was blindly fired out into the air.

Both of them felt the grapple hit something as they swung into the air, with Red Hood letting go as the two tumbled towards a rooftop construction site. 

“What hit me?” Robin asked as he rubbed his forehead.

“I think them,” Red Hood responded as he pointed towards the goons in purple and orange, all carrying sabers in front of them.  

“Yes,” A man in purple and orange armor said, the brim of his hat covering the grin on his face.  “Your movements are predictable, and now it’s time that you have a talk…with the Cavaleer.”

…

“I can’t give you anymore money Sondra,” Bruce Wayne explained as he and Sondra Fuller continued to talk.

“But we’re so close, Bruce, with the new rewrites,” Sondra began.

“Are further from the classic show and Gotham,” Bruce interrupted. “When I decided to bankroll this production I was promised jobs and opportunity for Gotham.  Not just exteriors and having to listen to one of the biggest hams of Hollywood butcher a classic character.”

“Now wait just a minute, Wayne,” Preston Payne said as he overheard the conversation.  “Are you telling me you’re not a fan of my writing.  I spent months working on a treatment that would get people to take the Grey Ghost seriously.  Do you know how lousy the source material was to work with?”

“Lousy?” Bruce exclaimed, his voice rising.  “For a lot of kids, that was their first hero.  Someone who, even when the darkness touched his life, continued fighting for the greater good.  Tragedy didn’t have to break him.”

“Oh,” Selina mumbled, finally realizing why Bruce had gravitated towards the Grey Ghost so much.

“If you pull out now,” Sondra began.  “We’d be…”

“Help!” A voice called out as the guests turned to the middle of the gala’s dance floor.  Simon Trent Jr. stumbled about.  The actor fell to the ground, revealing the knife in his back.

“He’s got to be…” Selina began.

“No one’s that good,” Bruce said.  His leading man now dead on the dance floor

NEXT: Batman’s Adventures in Hollywood continues as the Dark Knight hunts for a star slayer.  But what secrets is Tinseltown hiding, and can the picture be saved?  And in Gotham, Red Hood and Robin Better Learn to Work Together or it’s Curtains for Them!

Superman #31 - The Real Deal

<< | < | >

Author: MajorParadox

Book: Superman

Event: Krypton Rising

Arc: What's Next

Set: 31

Required Reading:

Clash of the Supermen

• Superman #29 - Doppelgängers

• Batman #30 - The Bat-tle of Metropolis

• Superman # 30 - Return

Phantom Zone

• Kara Zor-El #29 - Memories and Futures

Recommended Reading:

West Coast

• Titans #4 - Surfin' U.S.A.

• Titans #5 - Coast City

• Green Lantern #23 - The City Without Fear

• Wonder Girl #2 - Wonder Meets Super

East Coast

• Aquaman #23 - Waterfront

• The Flash #31 - Invasion

Separated

The Phantom Zone was a weird place. Even to a man who had just recently been back from the dead. But to be fair, he didn’t really remember much of it. Memories and dreams were all he could see looking back on the time since Doomsday… He didn’t want to think about it. What he had to do was find Kara and Bruce and get them all home.

Home. That word had become synonymous with Lois and his future child. The little time Clark talked to her on the phone since he was back made it clear she had been through a lot. After all, he “died,” he seemingly came back, but now that he’s back for real… They were going to have to figure it out, but there was nothing he wanted more than to see her again. Too bad some aliens from his homeworld seemed compelled to terrorize his adopted world. He-

A strange figure floated past quickly. Gray and ghoulish, it was like something out of a ghost movie. Clark almost jumped when he saw a young boy appearing out of the haze in front of him.

“Hi,” Clark said, gently waving his hand.

The boy, who must have been no older than 5, tilted his head, staring at the S symbol that Kara had burnt into Clark’s silver pentagon.

“It’s an S,” Clark said. “It stands for ‘Superman.’ That’s my name. What’s yours?”

The boy just continued to stare. Something was wrong. The slow movements and slight twitches seemed familiar. Clark had seen similar mannerisms in cases of childhood trauma. How did he even get in the Phantom Zone? Was he Kryptonian? Or Argonian like Kara explained about Zod?

“Gynot,” the boy finally said, pointing behind Clark.

Gynot? Was that his name? No, the pronunciation sounded a bit off, but it was a Kryptonian word meaning “friendly.” That was a good sign, but why was he pointing? Unless…

“<My friends?>” Clark asked in Kryptonian. “<Are they that way?>”

The boy took a moment. Clark’s Kryptonian wasn’t that bad, was it? “<Friends>,” he finally said.

Clark looked to where he had pointed, but there was nothing there.

“<Closer>,” the boy added, grabbing Clark’s hand. The two moved along until a large structure appeared, almost out of nowhere.

“Whoa,” Clark said, taking in the sight. A dark, silvery metal, reminiscent of his spaceship, made up the massive building. But pieces were missing, jagged edges protruded all around. It was as if someone had cut around it and dropped it into the Phantom Zone. Since it was so out of place, Clark figured that was probably close to what happened.

“<Get away from him!>” a female voice shouted in a similarly odd pronunciation of Kryptonian. Out of the side of the building came a woman with short, black hair. “<Get away from my son!>”

“<He’s okay,>” Clark called. “<I found him out here by himself. He was helping me find my friends.>”

Clark heard a shuffle behind him. He turned around to find a giant, bearded man with a growling grimace on his face. Sure he didn’t have his super hearing, but how did he even sneak up on him? Chalk it up to the weirdness. Before Clark could react, a fist crunched his nose and everything went black.

Escape

“Clark, wake up,” Kara’s voice called.

Clark opened his eyes slowly. He was inside, Kara and Bruce sitting on a floor beside him. “Where are we?” he asked.

“We overheard them calling this place Fort Rozz,” said Bruce.

“I’ve learned of Fort Rozz as a child,” said Kara. “During a prisoner riot, the entire building was destroyed. I guess is it somehow ended up here in the Phantom Zone. Faora, the woman who seems to be in charge, had her people imprison us in this cell.”

“Where’s the boy?” Clark asked.

“What boy?” Kara asked.

“There was a boy outside,” Clark explained. “Faora called him her son. This is no place for a child, he needs our help.”

“He must be with the Argonians,” said Bruce. Zod had explained that he and his people were from Argo. A planet the people of Krypton originated before it was nearly destroyed.

Clark stood up, taking in his surroundings, Kara held him at his side, giving him support. The cold, blackened walls radiated a faint, reddish hue that seemed to sizzle around in short spurts. “A force field?” he asked.

“Yes,” Bruce answered. “Quite rudimentary, which is surprising for Kryptonian. A simple power surge would short out the whole thing.”

“You seem to be doing much better,” Clark noted as he clutched his nose, which still throbbed from the punch.

“Fort Rozz somehow shields us from the negative effects of the zone,” Kara explained. “Except for our powers. Mine seem completely gone now. On the plus side, those weird phantoms don’t even try to come in here.”

“When we get out of here,” said Clark. “Remind me to spend more time reviewing Krypton’s history. If we can even get out of here. There’s got to be a way, right?”

Kara nodded. “I overheard Faora mentioning something about exit terminals. If we can find one first, maybe we’ll have a shot. But if it’s that simple, why are they still here?”

“If it took a member of El to activate the projector,” said Clark. “Maybe only we can open the way out?” He motioned to Bruce. “First things first, what would it take to cause a power surge that can disrupt the force field?”

“It would be easier if I had my utility belt,” said Bruce. “But luckily I have other options built into my suit.” He pulled off his cape and crunched a small corner of it in his fingers. “My cape can generate and magnify a piezoelectric charge as the material changes shape,” he explained. “We should be able to store and discharge it with a powerful enough charge. We need to move it rapidly put it into contact with the force field."

Clark grinned. "So... we need to flap your cape around and then throw it at the door." He could almost hear Bruce's teeth grind.

"Yes, I suppose so. Now grab it and start spinning, the more motion we get into it, the quicker the charge will build."

Clark and Kara held onto Batman’s cape and the three began spinning around, letting the cape flutter upwards. As they moved faster, a slight electrical discharge became visible in the center.

“Heh,” Clark chuckled, thinking about how silly they must have looked.

Kara just smiled, as if she understood what he was thinking. Three superheroes spinning around like children. Batman’s scowl just made them laugh harder.

The electricity built up in the cape until sparks went flying.

“On my mark,” said Bruce. “Now!”

The three released the cape and let it glide into the force field, a giant shock of energy exploding as it made contact.

“That felt like a high school science experiment,” said Clark as the three exited their cell.

Batman huffed. “We can do all the experiments you want when we find a way out of here, Clark.”

No More Failures

Zod paced around the Fortress, kicking pieces of robot remains. His brow was tense while his eyes were a million miles away. News reports streamed across terminals, cheering for the superheroes that had avoided disaster against the latest alien threats. What did that mean for the his plans? And did it matter? Krypton was not to be preserved that day and his family was still trapped in the Phantom Zone. And what was worse, the only ones in the universe who could access it were trapped in there too.

It wasn’t supposed to go that way. He was supposed to get them in and get his family out. The Eradicator was going to recreate the people of Krypton saved by Brainiac and that didn’t go right either. He and the Cyborg Superman failed.

As if on cue, Hank Henshaw, the Cyborg Superman, flew into the fortress. The robotic parts of him were quite battle-damaged, Zod’s eyes especially drawn to the cyborg’s missing right hand. But his face wasn’t one of failure. It exuded angry determination. Whatever little was there to convince the anomaly of a man to join Zod’s cause was clearly gone.

And it didn’t matter one bit to him.

“I know he’s alive,” Henshaw finally spoke up.

There it was. Henshaw still fixated on his hatred for Kal-El. He must have learned of his return.

“Where is he?” Henshaw continued. “He and I have unfinished business.”

No response. Zod just stared.

Henshaw determination devolved into a steady glare. “Answer me,” he said.

Still no response.

“Answer me!”

Henshaw rushed toward Zod, but he stepped to the side at the last moment, grabbing the cyborg by the neck.

Zod resisted the urge to open his mouth. Question how Henshaw could dare betray him. For a second time, no less. But his mind just thought of his failures. Of his wife and son and everyone of his followers from Argo trapped in that wasteland.

“Th-this isn’t-” Henshaw struggled to say as Zod crushed his windpipe.

With his other hand, Zod buried it into the cyborg’s chest, vibrating quickly to cut through the metal that covered whatever the excuse for a Kryptonian had for a heart.

Henshaw’s eyes widened until he heard the crunch. His robotic red eye faded away while his Kryptonian eye remained open, the look of shock stuck in place.

Zod pulled out his hand and let Henshaw fall to the ground. He still had to figure out how to free his people, but at least he felt a little better.

Faora

Faora watched the three strangers exit their cell. Her son hid behind her leg as Non stood beside her, grunting.

“<What’s wrong?>” she asked

The brute just growled.

“<The unmasked male is wearing a symbol of the house of El,>” Faora explained. “<Marked with a strange symbol over it, but I’d recognize it anywhere. I have no doubt these three will lead us to a way out. After all this time.>”

Another grunt.

“<Is that your General Zod grunt?>” Faora asked. “<If we could count on him, we’d be out of here already. If he’s still out there somewhere, and he expects us to just- We’re going to have words.>”

“<Mother?>” the young boy asked softly. “<Father?>”

“<Yes, son,>” Faora nodded, still watching the newcomers.

👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

“Look out!” Clark called, pushing Bruce away as a similar ghostly being flew right over. Or maybe it was the same one as earlier.

“There,” said Bruce, pointing to a tunneled out area below Fort Rozz. It appeared quite old, layers of dust built up around it.

“How could you possibly know there is an exit there?” asked Kara, her brow furrowing. “And don’t tell me it’s because you’re Batman.”

“I’m picking up a high frequency signal. The intensity gets closer as we move toward that hole. That’s why I’ve been leading us here.”

“Were you leading us?” Clark asked. “I thought we were wandering aimlessly.”

“Come on,” Bruce stated dryly as he crawled in and dropped down.

Clark wrapped an arm over his cousin’s shoulder. “I do it on purpose, sometimes. Maybe it’s wrong, but it’s so easy.”

Kara smiled and followed Bruce under, quickly followed by Clark.

The trio walked down a long hallway, metal and rock debris littered the area, which they had to avoid as they stepped.

“We’re close,” said Bruce, reaching an intersection. “Here.”

As Clark and Kara caught up, they looked upon a small, podium-like terminal covered in dust. It was Kryptonian in design and the unmistakable red pentagon brought a smile to their faces.

“Thank you, Father,” Clark whispered under his breath. He moved to the emblem and placed his hand over it. And then tapped the side. And then kicked it. “How do we use it?”

All eyes moved to Kara.

“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Bruce studied the mechanism closely. “Maybe-” He turned back toward the hallway.

“What?”

Bruce gritted his teeth. “I missed all the signs. They were following us.”

Faora and the other Argonians flooded into the room, spears raised. Clark’s eyes moved to her right-side man, the giant one named Non. He was wearing Batman’s utility belt around his waist.

“<You have a child among you>,” Clark said as he moved slowly toward Faora. A shared glance with Kara and Bruce let him know they understood what to do next.

“<Yes>,” Faora stated, lifting her spear toward Clark’s neck, mere inches away.

“<We can make sure he’s safe. Let him come with us.>”

“<You misread the situation>,” said Faora, allowing the spear to drop slightly. “<My people and I will be leaving this place. You will not>.”

“<Well>,” Clark said. “<The problem with that is->” He swung his wrist against the spear and pushed his shoulder against her as Kara lunged at two others and Bruce dropped and swept his leg across several others.

Faora moved her spear back into position, but Clark grabbed it, pulling her toward him. He kicked the weapon down to the ground, cracking it into two with his heel. But Faora took the opportunity to grab onto his arm, pulling it back around into a locked hold. Luckily, Bruce glided over with a roundhouse kick as Clark ducked his head, just narrowly missing the bottom of his friend’s boot.

Clark moved toward Non, swinging his fist into the brute’s massive chin, but he took it without even flinching.

“Ow!” Clark gasped, holding his newly fractured hand.

Non grabbed him by the chest, ready to pummel him with his giant fists, but Bruce pulled Clark away and followed up the motion with a head butt, sending Non reeling back as he pulled his utility belt free.

“Remind me to teach you how to properly punch,” he said. “Your cousin has it down,” he added, pointing to Kara fighting her way through more of the Argonians.

“He was big,” Clark sighed rushing toward another incoming threat. He dodged a spear and let his fist fly, knocking the Argonian back into the wall.

After a quick scan of the area, Bruce motioned toward a divet in the ceiling above. “Do it,” he said, Clark and Kara nodding back.

Clark grabbed another spear, pulling it back along with its holder. He swung it around so the Argonian ended up on the other side of the divet.

Kara and Bruce continued their fights against the others, dodging and hitting more of them to the same side.

Once the last one was over the line, Bruce tossed a series of adhesive devices at the ceiling.

“<What are those?>” one of the Argonians asked.

“<Take cover!>” Faora yelled, pulling her people back as the devices exploded and the entire structure trembled. Metal and stone rubble collapsed down from the top, leaving a wall of debris separating the two groups.

“Nice job,” said Kara, moving back to the exit terminal. “Now we just have to figure out how to open this damn thing.”

Clark came to her side, shaking his injured hand. A drop of blood dripped from the side. “I guess that punch hurt me worse than I thought,” he said. “I miss my powers.”

“Wait a minute,” Kara stated, taking her cousin’s hand. She placed it over the symbol for the house of El, and it lit up in a bluish, neon glow. A giant vortex appeared, radiating with blue and grayish light that swam together into the center.

“<This isn’t the last time you will meet us>,” Faora’s voice called from the wall of debris.

Clark leaned down to a small opening. “<Faora>,” he called, catching sight of her glaring eyes from the other side. “<I wasn’t lying. This hole is big enough for the boy. If you send him through, I promise you, I will get him out of here safely>.”

No response.

“Clark,” Bruce called. “We don’t have time.”

“Go,” Kara motioned to Bruce.

He gave Clark one last look and nodded. There was no way she was leaving him there. But nothing he could say would help. “The world needs you, Clark,” he said anyway before jumping into the swirling ball of energy, disappearing instantly.

Kara placed a hand on Clark’s shoulder.

“<Faora, please>,” Clark said.

“<My son stays with me>,” she finally responded.

“We have to go,” Kara said. “I’m not losing you again.”

Clark nodded and the two jumped toward the exit.

Showdown

Clark lifted his head out of the snow. “Ugh…” He pulled himself up, seeing Kara right next to him, hovering just above the ground.

“My powers are back,” she said. “I guess the zone didn’t drain them completely, just blocked them somehow.” She turned to her cousin. “How are you?”

“Still pretty tapped,” he said, making a fist. “But at least my hand is healing.”

“Watchtower, report,” Bruce said into his earpiece a few feet away.

“Batman!” Chloe’s voice screamed into their ears. “Where have you been? Are Superman and Supergirl okay?”

“We’re fine,” Clark responded. “Just a slight detour through a prison dimension.”

“And it’s not Supergirl anymore,” Kara added.

“Right,” said Chloe. “Anyway, the coasts are safe, but Zod, Henshaw, and Eradicator are unaccounted for. The League is tending to the aftermath, but the twins are headed your way.”

“Look,” Clark pointed as a figure flew past. “Eradicator is here, probably heading back to the fortress.”

Bruce nodded. “Then that’s where we’re headed too. But first, we need a plan.”

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Conner crawled across the floor of the Fortress of Solitude after entering from the back. He and Linda had little time to question what was going on when they met back up with Batman, Kara, and the real Superman. Apparently they were sucked into a strange, shadowy hell or something.

The worst Conner had to deal with was fighting that Wonder Girl girl he met in Gateway City. Why did it seem like heroes always fought each other when they first met? It happened with Linda and Kara, it happened with them and Superman- Well, that wasn’t the real Superman, so that probably didn’t count.

Focus, Conner, he thought.

Linda seemed more distant since all hell had been breaking loose. There was something she wasn’t telling him. It didn’t take a genius to realize she wasn’t fitting in back in Smallville. But that was fine. They could find somewhere else.

“Why are you on the floor?” Linda asked, hovering next to him.

“I thought we were sneaking in?” he responded.

“Nobody’s here,” said Kara landing across from them, Superman and Batman walked over behind her. “Except for him,” she added, pointing to the unmoving body of the Cyborg Superman. The one that had everyone fooled until he completely lost it.

Conner pulled himself up, looking around the finding nothing else but broken robots from their last visit. “Does this mean we won?”

Before anyone could respond, Kara, Linda, and Conner’s heads turned toward the entrance. A menacing figure stood there, hair perfectly shaped around his chin. Conner didn’t anyone to say his name to figure out who he was.

“Zod,” said Clark.

“Kal-El,” the general responded. “You escaped after all. And alone, I see?”

Kara inched slowly to the side, readying a strike.

“Don’t even try it, girl,” Zod stated. “You may have caught me off guard last time, but you will not last long against me in battle. I’ve defeated the Beast you know as Doomsday by myself.”

Of to the side, Bruce noticed a slight redness lighting up in Cyborg Superman’s previously empty eyes.

“It took a whole group of you along with your cousin’s death,” Zod continued. “Plus, I’m not by myself this time.”

Eradicator flew in from the other side, energy blasts firing from his hands.

Kara pushed Clark out of the way. She didn’t want to test his current power level against him.

Batman made eye contact with the others and shot his grappling hook into a crystalline beam high above the action, pulling himself upwards. He watched down below as he reached into his belt.

Linda and Conner each grabbed one of the phony Superman’s arms, pulling back as Kara rushed toward Zod.

But Zod sidestepped quickly, delivered a blow to the side of her skull. Clark ran to her side, but Zod zoomed over and grabbed him by the neck.

“You got out,” he said, pulling out the Phantom Zone generator and forcing Clark’s hand over it. “You are going to do it again, but taking with every last Argonian with you.”

The vortex opened.

“And we went about this all wrong,” Zod continued. “After you free my people, I’m bringing back Doomsday. He already proved he’s virtually unstoppable even with your array of ‘superheroes’.”

“Bringing him back?” Clark struggled to ask.

“How did you think he got here the first time?”

Henshaw’s head perked up.

“Now!” yelled Bruce from above as the twins pulled Eradicator toward Zod, but he resisted, swinging them off and tossing them away. Kara flew into the sorry excuse for a Superman, knocking down Zod and Clark as they made contact.

Batman glided down, a greenish glow radiating from his hand. He opened his palm to reveal the kryptonite ring Clark had entrusted him. Clark knew it would come in handy eventually. Bruce pushed it against Zod’s skin as he tapped a button on his belt, an electric surge covering his suit.

But, Zod slapped him away, sending the Dark Knight flying across the fortress, the ring falling to his side.

Henshaw rose to his feet and grabbed Batman out of the air, letting him drop down to his chest. He knelt over and picked up the green ring, the radiation burning away at what was left of his skin. “Did he say-?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Batman spoke up. “Zod sent Doomsday here. He is responsible for killing your wife.”

Henshaw screamed and charged at the others. Innate knowledge flooded his head. He still didn’t quite understand how, but something in his connection to the Eradicator let him share the inner workings of the Kryptonian technology around him. As he made contact with Zod, an intense light show of colors emanated from the Eradicator, completely engulfing himself, Zod, and Clark.

Everyone in the fortress had to look away, but the sounds of Clark’s cries echoed all around them. He was in pain.

“We have to stop this,” Kara said, panicking. “It’s killing him!”

“No,” Bruce said, his arm on her shoulder. “He can take it.”

The Eradicator’s light cleared, leaving only the Phantom Zone vortex glow. The remains of Eradicator and Cyborg Superman were burnt to a crisp. Zod and Clark lay opposite each other, the kryptonite ring right between them.

Bruce rushed over, grabbing the ring from the ground, and placing it back in his belt. The others dropped to Clark’s side.

“He’s okay,” said Kara.

Conner and Linda smiled as Clark opened his eyes.

“What about the general guy?” Conner asked, looking over.

As if on queue, Zod rose to his feet, his eyebrows clenched tight and his mouth snarling like a beast. “That’s enough!” he yelled. “You are all going to-”

Clark supersped right in front of Zod, tapping him on the shoulder. “Hi,” he said. “Thanks for the power boost.”

Zod threw a punch with all his might, but his hand cracked against Clark’s forehead. He screamed out in pain as he pulled back his broken hand.

“Yes!” Conner shouted, fists pumping.

“This- this is impossible!” Zod cried.

Clark grabbed the general by the chest of his shirt and lifted him up, turning around to face the still open vortex to the Phantom Zone.

“I got out before, Kal-El,” Zod stated. “There is still so much you don’t know.”

“Nothing you’re going to teach us,” said Kara.

Clark nodded and tossed Zod into the vortex just as it closed.

“Okay, now we won,” said Linda, smiling at Conner.

Kara moved toward Clark, ready to pull him into a hug, but he was staring down at the ground. “What is it?”

“The projector,” Clark said picking up the charred remains from the ground.

“Oh.” Kara understood. “The boy.”

Conner raised his hand. “What boy?”

Reunion

Lois sat on the couch, watching news coverage of the attacks. Last she heard, Clark- Or the latest Clark was still missing along with Kara and Bruce. Could it really be him this time? Could he have come back? And if it was… did she lose him all over again?

The tarp covering the missing wall of the apartment was fluttering against the wind. She really shouldn’t have stayed there, but it wasn’t that cold. Plus… just in case… This was probably the first place he’d come back.

If it was him.

The wind was picking up, which was quite annoying. She picked up the remote and cranked up the volume. Wait a minute… Lois turned to the tarp to find a silhouette of a man on the other side. A hand tapped against the covering and Lois’ heart jumped.

“Come in,” she said, almost as a squeek. “Come in,” she said again, more normally.

As the tarp opened, Lois was surprised at how surprised she was to see Clark landing inside next to her. She didn’t even remember getting up from the couch.

“Hi, Lois,” said Clark smiling. Henshaw never smiled quite like that. But this Clark… he had it down.

“You understand it’s a bit hard to believe you’re... you, right?”

Clark took a deep breath. “Yes, it must be a lot to handle,” he said moving closer, but his eyes almost asked if it was okay as he did it. “But you’re Lois Lane. You figured out I was Superman before I could even tell you.”

Lois looked into the man’s eyes, but they were directed down toward her belly.

“May I?” he asked.

Lois just nodded.

Clark placed his hand on her stomach. In that gentle way he always had. “I’m sorry I missed so much. I would have loved to be there with you through the whole thing. How long…?”

“He’s due next month,” said Lois.

Clark’s eyes lit up. “He? We’re having a son?”

Lois finally smiled.

<< | < | >

Wonder Woman #34 - War of the Gods #3

^<< ^^First ^{| <} ^^Previous

Author: SqueeWrites

Book: Wonder Woman

Arc: Finding Humanity

Set: 36

"Trap! Look to the skies!"

Circe's shout went mostly unheard through the din of battle. The Myrmidon's reinforcements had pushed hard into the gods assaulting the flanks and Hermes' pegasi legion now bore down from above. Circe gathered her divine power to assault Hermes' forces above when a twinkling blue light sprang to life from the forest and the divine power within that blue roared to a bonfire.

It wasn't just Diana's lackeys that were here.

Circe shifted her gathered power from an attack to a shield as the blazing arrow shot through the clashing armies toward her. Her shield managed to block the blast though it cracked as it did and then resulting shockwave knocked more than a few of her beastiamorphs from their feet. Circe cursed. That bitch had waited until their magic shield had shifted over the edge of the forest before revealing herself. She started to return the attack when First Born stepped next to her, grabbing her arm.

"No, leave her for another. Gather all your sorcerers and attack the skies."

"All? But the shield-"

"I will deal with Zeus's bolts. Now obey."

Begrudgingly, Circe sprinted away from the center of the battle towards the back. Partially to do as he ordered and partially to not be near First Born when the lightning rang down. She did spare a glance back towards the trees to make sure that Diana didn’t target her with another arrow, but she did not. Her arrows traced a yellow and black streak that raced towards the trees. Each arrow missed Cheetah, but still managed to take out huge swaths of both friend and foe from its collateral damage.

Circe raced up to her sorcerers and sorcereresses, some who already flung attacks into the pegasus army that now tore apart the remains of her beastiamorphs. The giants fared little better as the magical hooves trampled them from the air.

“Drop the shield,” Circe said and few looked at her as though she was crazy. “Now!” Her yell brought obedience, though several only dropped theirs once they knew that their layer would be insufficient on its own. Before she could give further orders, lightning cracked down right on top of First Born. For a moment, the light blinded her, but then it turned steady and her mouth nearly dropped open at the sight before her.

First Born stood against the lightning, one fist raised to the sky. No, he held it. The lightning pulsed in his hand, bucking wildly as it fought to escape his grip and reach its target, but First Born held firm. He had caught it. There seemed to be a lull in the fighting as everyone watched the impossible happen. Rearing back his arm, First Born hurled the lightning like an Olympic javelin away from him. It sparked out in a wide fan and electrocuted dozens of the raiding pegasi. The pristine white horses dropped from the air, hitting the ground with a heavy thump. The quiet seemed to hold even after First Born’s attack and the strange god simply laughed over the silence.

Circe was no fool though. After her brief pause at watching the impossible occur, she started giving quiet orders our to her magic users, breaking them into ranks. Despite the gods and goddesses of magic being notoriously chaotic, they quickly formed lines and before First Born’s laughter had even stopped, a volley of fireballs arced into the sea of white above them igniting the creatures.

Unlike with the lightning, the pegasus died slowly from the fire. Their shrieks filled the air and burnt hair swarmed unpleasantly in Circe’s nostrils. The knocked into their brethren, catching some others on fire, before falling to their deaths. Hermes’ turned from First Born and instead saw Circe leading the troops. She gave him a sly grin. She’d always hated Hermes.

With a shout, the great legion of pegasi turned from the bulk of the army towards her, the greatest threat. The pegasi galloped across the sky, but the force of magic was too great. Their numbers had dwindled to nearly half before they were even close enough to engage and then the gods of magic split off, each fighting in their own unique style. Gateways, shields, fire, lightning, and simple pure arcane magic all sprung into being as the melee formed.

Circe pulled her divine magic into her, drawing it into her hands which she arced in a huge circle around her body before thrusting outward. A shockwave of energy cleared the air around her and then she stomped forward, drawing her arms in an even faster circle and flinging out hundreds of violet bolts to take out any pegasus that dared approach her.

When her spell cleared, Hermes landed in front of her in the space that she had created. He wore his stupid winged hat and sandals, somehow still perfectly perched on his frame. He frowned heavily at her.

“I didn’t think that even you were capable of this, Circe.”

Circe laughed haughtily. “Then clearly you don’t know me, messenger boy. I’m capable of many things.” She let the innuendo of the last hang in the air, but he didn’t take the bait. Never did actually.

“What has he promised you? Power? You really think even with this host that you can defeat Zeus himself?”

Circe shrugged. “Maybe I’m just bored,” she lied. She wouldn’t be here at all if she thought First Born would let her live. Though maybe it wasn’t a total lie. This was exciting. “Besides, I’d take you out for free.”

He leveled his javelin at her. “If you think you can, witch.”

“Hermes, my dear,” she said coyly, “I believe we already discussed the many things that I’m capable of.”

WWWWW

Flying in Epoch, working with Batman and Superman, even being engaged to Wonder Woman, none of those were as intimidating for Chloe Sullivan as the woman who stood in front of her - Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons. This literally immortal queen over a race of warrior women who’s strength had attracted even the king of the gods. This woman who’d personally led wars and defended the literal Fountain on Youth from any supernatural threats for centuries. She was a legend. Literally. Chloe was pretty sure they’d had a lesson on her in her classics class.

But the most intimidating thing about this woman was that she was the mother of Diana.

Chloe wasn’t an insecure person by any means. All that had been squeezed out of her between being the loner in high school and the “oops-I-think-I’m-gay” girl in college. She’d spent a lot of time finding herself and was now pretty dominating in her own right. Her Watchtower person was the sometimes “face” of the Justice League and she was an amazing hacker. Still, everyone has that little voice that tells them they’re not good enough from time to time.

Right now, Chloe’s inner voice screamed

The kettle whistled as the water had finished boiling. Queen Hippolyta whisked it gently off of the small wood fired stove that smoldered with heat and poured each of the three cups without spilling a drop. The water turned a light shade of brown from whatever spices she had placed in them before she turned to look directly at Chloe. Chloe froze on the spot, her heart’s rapid beating not slowing from the second she’d begun her ascent up this ivory tower.

“Sugar?” Chloe’s mouth dropped open as her brain furiously worked to decipher a response. “For your tea?”

Diana chuckled. “She does. Two I believe.” Queen Hippolyta smiled warmly at her as she plucked a few sugar cubes from a nearby jar and placed two in Chloe’s and four in Diana’s. While her mother’s back was turned, Diana took Chloe’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I am here,” Diana whispered into her ear, “and I always will be.”

Chloe nodded and returned the squeeze, but immediately dropped her hand as her mother turned around with the cups. The three of them returned to the small sitting room and Chloe blew slightly on her tea as she thought desperately for something to say. Diana and the queen seemed at peace to simply blow on their tea and take small sips, but Chloe knew that she had to make a good impression.

“I-is tea traditional for Greek ceremonies?” Chloe asked. Small talk was good. Small talk she could work with. Small talk turned to big talk. Big talk meant good impressions. Everyone knew that.

Queen Hippolyta laughed and it was the same laugh that Diana had. While the two women could have almost been sisters in appearance instead of mother and daughter, that laugh cemented their relationship purely. “No,” Hippolyta said, “Greeks are known for their wine. This is a Japanese green tea, not normally taken with sugar, but Diana has always had a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Oh,” Chloe said, taken aback, “I didn’t realize…” She trailed off as she truly looked around the room. Every decoration, rug, artifact, and even plant seemed to be taken from a different country. A different time. She’d imagined the women here as purely Greek, having been descended as part of the line of Greek mythology.

“We aren’t as sheltered as you might think,” Diana’s mother said with a small sip of her tea. “It was once common for women to come here from afar, bringing stories to us as we gave shelter to them. Many of them stayed, in fact, to take on our duty. You may have noticed on the way here that not all the women here share the olive complexion of the Greek heritage.”

Chloe thought back to the city she’d walked through and the many races of people she’d seen there but not really noticed. This place was a bit more of a melting pot than she had realized and not only that, a shelter for women, but then, why no men? Diana had told her about the time that she was nearly executed by their rule of law because of Steve Trevor. That seemed almost barbaric compared to the culture seen here.

“Go on,” Queen Hippolyta said and Chloe looked up, slightly confused. “I can tell from your face that some question burns in you. Ask it. No offense will be taken from simple questions.”

Chloe wanted to hold back. To simply be polite and liked and eventually leave, but her own curiosity dug deep inside her. “Why no men? I love women and I think the world is stacked against them in a lot of ways, but to put men to death for simply being here? How is something like that any better than whatever they could do? Are they not people as well?”

Diana calmly sipped her tea and the Queen gave a rye smile as though Chloe had made a humorous anecdote and not just accused this woman’s entire people of being murderous psychopaths.

“We don’t hate men. Well, not all of us hate men. We’ve grown in a lot of ways ourselves over the years, but our roots are deep. At our core, we were Greek women who refused to be beholden to men in a time when a woman was nothing without a man. The goddess of the hunt, Diana, found us and gifted us with abilities beyond that of men who sought to make us their prey and we thrived.” Queen Hippolyta took another sip of her tea before setting it down on the dark oak table between them.

“Our prowess was so legendary that Zeus himself blessed us and gave us the honor to defend the Fountain from those who’d seek its waters. Over the years, men sought us in attempt to defeat these women who dared stand above them and to be blessed with immortality. It became almost a game to them, but we defeated all comers and our disdain grew.

The rules against men, however, did not come to pass until Heracles invaded our shores. His men offered us gifts and friendship and once we were distracted, they enslaved us and we remained their slaves for over a decade. I won’t get into the horrors that occurred there, but… they were not kind.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” Chloe said, not sure what else could be said. Diana had told her the story of Queen Hippolyta rising up to defeat Heracles and send him from their shores, but she’d missed the traumatic precursor.

“Thank you. It pains my people still. And that was the beginning of our laws forbidding men from our island. Zeus himself inspired by our rescue of ourselves brought Themyscira into its own realm as token of our strength. And to answer your question, men are people, yes, but this place is not for them. We’ve let them have an entire world while we remain on this small island. For us, this place is a refuge from them for those of us whose spirits were wounded deeply.”

Her heart ached for these women. Once during college, she’d attended a woman’s abuse support group. Her way of showing solidarity, she’d thought. All the women had reacted in different ways to the abuse. Some grew tough as nails, others laughed it off, but some… some shrunk away from any contact and always seemed in a state of reliving their trauma. Despite the fact that those women may have been the minority in the group, she felt that they were how they’d all felt on the inside. The bravado and the humor may be forms of strength but they were also armor to protect their fragile insides. Still, Chloe couldn’t quite let it go.

“My heart goes out to any woman who has had to face that, but murder? Is that really the best response?”

The Queen smiled warmly to Chloe, but she spoke to Diana instead. “I like her.”

“As do I, mother. Did I not tell you she was bold?”

“You did, but questioning the entire belief system and history of an ancient peoples directly to their queen was not the level of boldness that I had assumed when you said that.”

Diana grinned. “You should see how she questions a god."

Chloe blushed heavily. She had just done that, hadn’t she? God, she should just sew her mouth shut. She’d get in less trouble that way. Chloe started to apologize when the very air to their left shattered apart as though it was made of breaking glass. For a brief moment, the sound of shouts, screams, and dying horses clattered into the room, but a half armored body fell through the broken air, skipping across the ground, and as he laid still, the noises did too.

All three of the women were on their feet and one of the Royal Guard had burst into the room at the noise. Diana was the first to move, reaching down to bring the man into a sitting position. Blood leaked from several cuts on his body and violet marks that looked almost like a bruise that had been poisoned pockmarked his mostly bare chest. He wore a very curious helmet with wings on the side. He looked up to see Diana and then Queen Hippolyta.

“Praise Zeus,” he said in a near whisper, his voice cracking. “Our king needs the might of the Amazons."

Wonder Woman #35| Next>

The Flash #44 - Surprises

<< | < | > Coming February 1st

Author: brooky12

Book: Flash

Arc: Wally West

Set: 44

That was one benefit of this new age of superheroes, was that when you ran towards the flood of rats wearing a solid white outfit and a purple cape, people moved out of the way for you.

Magenta reached her hands out, pulling two metal plates from the road to act as a makeshift bulldozer to protect her approach from the rats. Those potholes should’ve been filled and not just covered, anyways.

Once she crossed over the sound barrier, she pulled more metal from nearby, forming a barrier around herself as she silently ran towards the epicenter. Something similar had happened once before, with Kid Flash having found something on the edges of the perimeter of where the sound stopped that undid it. But when that had happened, all the rats that had been around suddenly dropped whatever trance they were in, which was a mess. She was going to stop the rats.

She pushed closer to the center, the rats now choosing to focus their attention on her instead of charging out through the city. She must’ve looked incredibly odd, a one man riot police of metal bars and sheets, covered in rats. She hoped that her outfit had been caught by news or bystanders before she became some sort of iron man.

The small slit to see through made advancement difficult, especially as rats climbed up and down it trying to find a way in. She used some free sheets under her control as windshield wipers, taking the opportunity as the animals were pushed off to open the metal a little to see better. If a rat got in, well, that was one less ball bearing to use at the end.

At the center, as expected, was an open sewer grate, with a pied piper sitting nearby, playing some unheard tune on a small woodwind instrument. It was unnerving, being in total silence in an environment where she knew should be almost overwhelming with noise. The rats were swarming her at this point, the makeshift windshield wiper working for a half-second before the swarm regrew, and eventually the swarm covered the wiper itself.

Magenta pulled out the first handful of ball bearings. She tossed three out of the little window, morphing them together into a metal dome as it hurtled towards the main sewer opening in the middle of the street. The grate that had been thrown to the side was slid back into place, fusing with the dome on top of it. Almost immediately, Pied Piper jumped up, trying to push the dome away with a foot. Once the villain realized this was not so easy, many of the rats reversed course from Magenta, charging towards the dome.

It wasn’t going to help, Magenta knew. The dome had fused with the sewer grate, and the top rung of the metal ladder that led down into the sewers had fused with the two as well, locking the grate in place. A million rats would never be able to undo that.

With the attention taken away from her, she threw out more and more ball bearings. Some twisted into sheets, covering the drainage exits, others into domes and spheres, catching rats before coming to a stop as Magenta dropped her control once successful.

Pied Piper, to his credit, realized that this was a losing battle. Rats came flooding back from behind Magenta, forcing her to refocus while Pied Piper got away. The sudden sound flooding back into the world once the musician ended the tune was nearly deafening, the angry chattering of rats and distant sirens surprisingly unexpected.

More ball bearings, more traps, but she couldn’t help but feel like a failure as she watched her enemy slip out of view down an alleyway.

About a minute later, any remaining rats had scattered, and the road looked like a terrible type of candy buttons sheet. Magenta stood there for a second, surprisingly exhausted. She had expected all of the magnetism she was doing to be tiring, but even still, she felt totally worn out. She’d chase the rat man, but…

A streak of color appearing helped her make that decision. Kid Flash appeared in front of her, looking around at the domes and wincing at the sound of angry rats trying to scratch and chew metal.

“Where’d they go?”

“Down that alley, Flash, uh, my name is Frances Ka---”

He was gone.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“What’s that?” Hartley signed, watching Wally slide into the table and put down his food tray, pizza covered by a questionably balanced brown package.

“Gift for you.” Wally signed back. He still wasn’t visibly great at sign language, but was putting in the effort. Hartley’s defenses seemed to have lowered somewhat, Wally clearly more committed to learning his language than previous teachers and peers.

“I didn’t get you.” Hartley looked hurt, desperately looking around. He grabbed his orange, pushing it forward with a silly smile.

“You’re good. I learned sign language because of you, gave me the push I needed. Been meaning to learn.” Wally pushed the orange back with the package, watching Hartley open it. The two pieces were individually wrapped, and his eyes bugged open wide as he pulled the first one out.

The first was placed delicately on the table, followed by the second. They looked almost like headphones, with a small in-ear piece followed by a see-through plastic earhook that led to the part that differentiated it from headphones. Instead of a wire, there was a green panel of sorts.

“You got me hearing aids? These are expensive!”

“You mentioned that your… hatch? For your batteries on your current one, wasn’t good any more. Tape works, but maybe this works better? Your favorite color, too.” Wally grinned.

Hartley just sat there, staring and grinning. Wally leaned back a bit, beginning his food. Hartley eventually removed his hearing aids, unsealing the new ones and slipping them on. A few minutes of adjusting, the two began signing again.

“You didn’t have to do this. I got you nothing.”

“You’re fine. It wasn’t even that hard, I made a deal with a group I volunteer with, because they couldn’t pay me. They get access to this stuff much cheaper than the rest of the world.”

“I have to think of something to get you.”

“Teaching me sign language and your friendship is gift enough.”

“I didn’t do that one, though. Definitely never taught you the sign for gift.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

No way. Her?

Wally scanned the alleyway, heat signatures picking up nothing useful. Surely Frances Kane was not the metal manipulating metahuman that just gave him directions to his next opponent. It sounded like her, sure…

He tried to think back. Metal manipulation didn’t allow for speedy transportation, meaning if she had been doing work in the past it’d have to be local. Keystone City didn’t have any notable metahuman activity when Jay and Barry were researching, and metal manipulation wasn’t a major reported incident.

Not that reported incidents were helpful, most of those were just people hoping that somehow, by reporting that they saw someone flying in the sky --- a bird or airplane --- or some strange invisible thief --- no, you really did forget to buy eggs --- that those fantasies would suddenly come true.

When you’re not a metahuman in a world where metahumans dominate the nightly news recap, I guess you start imagining, Wally groaned. Not that being a metahuman was fun, he could be playing a video game right now but was instead tracking down a musician who liked to flood the city with rats and also stop all sound. Was it too much at least to ask for consistent powers?

Maybe this guy was in the sewers. Rats usually were, and Wally did notice every single sewer opening shut off by metal, so it was a start. He circled the nearby area, finding one heat signature moving away from the scene of the crime through the sewers.

He slipped into the sewers as the sounds of sirens grew closer. Let the new kid have her spot in the starlight for the moment, even if it would be overshadowed by the delivery of the perpetrator. A moment later, he was sneaking up behind him, watching him pull down his hood.

Even with the dark environment of the sewer, even with the heat signature goggles activated, there was no mistaking the device in their ear. The hair matched, too. Wally took a deep breath, and watched him continue to slink away.

Hartley Rathaway, really? With time, Wally figured he could adjust to having accidentally made friends with another metahuman without even realizing she was? But then, a second one? Frances at least seemed to be acting more on the good side of things, but Hartley…

Wait, why was Hartley acting on the bad side of things? Surely he wasn’t, was Wally missing something? Suddenly the noise disappearing made sense, but rats? And didn’t he use flutes? Why would someone who can’t hear without hearing aids, and even then only a little and with a lot of focus required, know how to use a musical instrument?

Hartley turned the corner, never aware of Wally. He sped back, appearing a few feet off to the side as Magenta talked to the camera. She looked to him, and he shook his head and gave a thumbs down. As he sped off, he heard Frances trying to welcome him onto camera.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Wally, Wally, Wally, Wally!”

He turned around, watching Frances Kane practically sprint down the hall to catch up with him. “I’m going to be late for class, but I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t forget to give you a gift, it just doesn’t exist yet, there’s a new museum opening soon in downtown Keystone, and by soon I mean probably sometime in the future. They technically haven’t even announced it yet, but dad has friends who know and he mentioned it to me. I know you like learning so I thought I’d get you like, a Day One Entrance ticket!”

“You definitely shouldn’t have missed a bit of class to tell me this, I wouldn’t have expected you to just not get me a gift… I mean, I was terrible, I just searched the internet for good gifts for new runners and it said socks...”

“Hey, socks purchased by you are socks not purchased by me. And nah, it’s a test day, so if I show up in five there’s no harm done. Anyways, you like learning and track and field and the museum is about The Flash, so I thought you might enjoy it.”

Wally stood still. Was Frances testing him? “The Flash?”

If it was a test, Frances seemed to be unaware. “Yeah, they’re making a museum about him for some reason. Do you not like it?”

“Who?”

“The Flash, you know? Fastest man, men, whatever, alive? There’s like, ten of them depending on how you count I think, but they’re gonna try to cover all of the like, theories and---”

“Frances, I mean who’s making the museum?”

“Oh, hmm. I can ask my dad? Why? Do you not like it?”

Wally pursed his lips. He didn’t want to lie to her again, but he hadn’t had time to talk to Iris or anyone about Frances and Hartley. “Just that I heard a similar rumor but thought it had been disproved.”

“Do you not like it? I can get you something else, they haven’t even announced the museum so I can just drop the promise to you.”

“No, no, Frances, it’s fine. A Flash Museum, huh…”

Batman #33: Criminal Intentions

^<< ^^First ^{| <} ^^Previous ^{| Next} ^^> ^{Coming March 1st}

Author: fringly

Book: Batman

Set: 33

🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇

A dark alleyway. A shot rings out, then another and another. Thomas and Martha Wayne lie dead on the street and their son, Bruce, runs into the night. But this is not the world you know - there are no historic Wayne billions and no butler to raise young Bruce Wayne. Bruce survived growing up on the streets, travelled the world training his body and mind, then returned to Gotham and became the Batman, so that he could destroy the crime that had crippled his city. Now, with the rise of superheroes, Bruce finds himself on a new path, where people, both good and bad, have incredible powers, but the mission is the same. Justice.

For Batman it is a time of transition. His protégé Robin has left to train with Masters around the world. The orphanage has just moved to a new out-of-city location and Selina Kyle is pregnant with his child. In Gotham City though, crime is a way of life and on any given day an armoured car might be attacked, a person mugged or even a bank robbed. For Batman, not every crime requires his personal attention, but with others he will be very much involved…

🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇

Part One: The Getaway

A lone siren cut into the night air, wailing up from between the streets with its pulsating scream. Seconds later another joined it from streets away and then a third and fourth as the GCPD wolfpack called back and forth, closing in on their quarry.

A few streets in Gotham were laid out on a grid, but the older parts were like Boston or most European cities and streets curved and joined into each other with no order. Whimsical as this was, the meandering layout made it far more hazardous to control vehicles during a high-speed pursuit and the car that the GCPD was chasing seemed to know every inch of the confusing layout.

Behind the wheel, a scar-faced criminal grimaced, spinning the wheel and pirouetting the car through the traffic, before hitting the gas hard and sending the engine screaming once again. In the passenger seat, a young man ripped a mask from his face and spun in his seat, trying to see how close the cop cars had come. The two men in the back seats were doing the same and one leant out of the window, trying to line up a shot, but the car moved too much for him to be able to fire.

He leaned back in and struck the back of the driver’s seat. “Keep the goddamn car straight Matches, if I can hit them, then they’ll back off a bit and give us room.”

The driver ignored him, but a second later flinched as he heard a shot being fired. It went high and wide, but he spun the wheel hard and flung the car down an alley that barely was wide enough to fit through, losing both wing mirrors and for a moment, his pursuers. The man in the back jerked his head back into the car, just in time to keep from being decapitated.

The driver glanced back and growled in anger. “You hit the cops, or kill someone, and we go from wanted criminals to death row. Keep the gun in your pants, or the next shot goes up your ass, you got it?”

The other men were stunned for a moment. Matches Malone was known as a reliable, but generally peaceful man, who rarely spoke angrily… or at all even. This was his first job with them though and it seemed the stress of everything going south had finally got to him.

Still, for a moment they had lost the cops, but all four knew it wouldn’t last. The sirens were coming closer again, more than a dozen now, monitored by the GCPD control room, manoeuvring them into place across the city so that no matter where they ran, they would be found.

Matches gunned the car along the quiet street, letting his mental map of the city stretch out and analyse every possibility. There were four options if he decided to run, all would expose him to wider streets where roadblocks could be formed, stingers deployed and their journey brought to an end. Capture was not an option.

Hiding was possible, but with a car and four of them, it would be difficult. If they abandoned the car, he could get one, maybe two to safety, but the odds of all three escaping were low, and he couldn’t risk one of them being caught and ruining the plan. There was only one option left and that had its risks, but it was the best choice.

Somewhere above a helicopter had joined the chase and in just a moment it would pull overhead, fixing them in its view and then following him no matter where they went. He spun the car, turning into a side street that ended in a dead end, the headlights bouncing off the brick wall ahead of them.

“What the hell?” the passenger screamed, but Matches ignored him and slammed on the brakes and was out of the car before the others could move.

“Stay here!” For some reason the certainty in his voice seemed to pin them to their seats and they obeyed. Tossing two garbage cans to the side, he exposed a dark shuttered door, just wide enough for the car and he leaned down and fumbled, as if picking the lock.

It opened to his touch and he lifted the door, but paused with it open only a foot or so and muttered a few key phrases. The men in the car were too close to hear the grinding of gears as behind the doors walls moved.

A siren cut through the night, too close, he was out of time. Flinging the door open wide, Matches jumped back in the car, cut the headlights and swung into the door, which flipped down behind them, leaving the men in darkness. The siren seemed to be almost on top of them, the helicopter almost hovering above, but then… so slowly… they moved on and silence returned.

For nearly a minute, they seemed to hold their breath and then laughter bubbled up and all four men collapsed in relief. Matches opened his door and fumbled on the wall until a light switch came to hand, clicking it on to show a small musty dark parking space with a single door leading out.

The other four followed, spilling the bags of cash onto the floor and stretching as their bodies untensed. Damage, who had been in the front seat, clapped Matches on the shoulder. “Good work, they said you were a hell of a driver, but you saved our asses. How’d you even know about this place?”

Fours and Slipknot, were looking on, interested, but none were suspicious and none were looking closely at the walls, which had only clicked into place a moment before.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.” Matches pushed at the door, which opened stiffly. On the other side was a small abandoned deli, a few products decaying on the shelves. “I worked here as a boy, worked all over this place. Used to be owned by a Korean guy who ran card games in the back, he had me running the front while he gambled, right until Tony Carenza moved into this neighbourhood, took over the gambling and put a bullet in his skull. Been empty ever since.”

Every word was true, except for the part Matches had played. The small shop had once been three times the size though, but the parts that had spun out of view were one of the smaller bat-caves all across the city, packed with surveillance equipment and spare Batsuits. Luckily, even though it had been a few years, the auto-disguise had worked perfectly and unless they started pounding on the walls, it’d stay that way.

Fours popped himself onto the old counter and began counting bullets. He was almost surprised to see that his clip was still full, he normally enjoyed firing off a few to make a point during a bank robbery, but today the situation had just never seemed to come up that it was needed. Matches had moved things along so fast, that if the alarm hadn’t tripped, they’d have been out long before anyone would have had a chance to try anything.

“So what now?” We gotta whole city out looking for us and that car aint moving nowhere fast.” Matches waited, it was better that the idea not come from him.

Damage was lighting a cigarette, his hands shaking. He was the other newbie in the crew and Matches could see the stress being held in. “We… we gotta get some help. We’re supposed to be back in an hour, if we don’t call someone, if we don’t get some help from the boss…”

“Not an option.” Fours cut in immediately. You know the rules, if it goes well, then we drop off the cut for the boss and he gives us another job. If it goes bad, then you do your time and your family gets enough to live on, so long as you keep quiet. Them’s the rules rook.”

“I know the goddamn rules, but they don’t apply here.” Damage insisted. We did the job and no one got caught, but they are gonna work out eventually where we are if we stay here, and they’re gonna start knocking on doors. We gotta call him and get help, or we’ll all end up caught and he aint gonna get his cut anyway!”

Both men turned and looked to Slipknot, who had set up the crew and was the most experienced man. He’d worked for the boss more than any of them and knew how he worked.

“He aint going to like that we got trapped here. He’ll like less if we get caught.”

“I say we call him.” Damage insisted.

“No way.” Fours shot back. “I’d rather face the cops.”

Slipknot looked over to Matches. “What about you?”

Matches took a second, seeming to think. “I’ve been in trouble with the cops before, but nothing big time. We knocked over a bank, we’ve got probably half a mil in those bags and that’s serious. Right now, we’re trapped, but they say the boss has feelers all over the city, maybe we see what he wants us to do?”

After a moment Slipknot seemed to decide and pulled a phone out. He stepped away from the others and spoke into it quietly. After he was done speaking, he listened for a moment, his knuckles whitening. Without another word the call ended and he turned back.

“He’s sending someone, get the shit together.”

Damage was all smiles. “See, I told you that…”

Slipknot cut across him. “It’s gonna cost us though, and that’s not good.”

Silently, the men began to gather the bags together and get ready for whatever was heading to them.

🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇

Part Two: Just Sitting Around

The new Batcave was only around 40% complete, but already Bruce was feeling at home. The new computer system was finally online and had connected into almost the entire network, including his own quantum assembly, which was providing raw computational power that was simply astonishing.

With Barbara’s help, he was able to pull real time data from thousands of police force computer systems all around the world and analyse criminal patters worldwide. Already it had thrown up links which exposed a trade in exotic animal species from Africa, through Bulgaria and into Brazil and a cocaine network that was growing in size and scope across Texas and would soon be in a position to move nationwide.

Most worrying of all, perhaps, was his confirmation that deep-seated corruption in the Girl Guides of America had indeed led to the incorrect awarding of prizes in Gotham last year, which had led to a number of his orphans missing out on prized for selling the most cookies. It was an injustice that would be avenged, but not today.

Crime worldwide was now within his view, but still it was local problems that bothered him. Here in Gotham, as soon as one criminal network was exposed, another seemed to spring up in its place and already there were clear signs that someone had taken over the reigns in the background. Worse, whoever had done this was smart and although he could see their influence, he could get no solid information.

“Troubled Sir?” Alfred had brought down a pot of tea and some of the little hard biscuits that he was so fond of.

Bruce pushed back from the computer and smiled. “The usual, another criminal network, another nut to crack.”

Alfred poured two cups and held out the plate of biscuits. Bruce reflexively took one and then regretted it. “A worrisome network sir, or just the usual?”

Bruce shrugged. “They all worry me, but no indication that this is any worse than most.” He stood and moved over to an alcove where a complex looking analysis machine was still in parts. He quickly began to slot them together, but after a minute or so lost interest and moved on to a microscope which had a number of samples lying beside it.

He glanced down and then made a few notes, before looking up at Alfred watching him. “What?”

“You’re bored sir.”

Bruce scoffed. “Bored? Alfred, I have a cave to build, a new orphanage to finish the snagging on, a city full of criminals, a world full of trouble, a dozen satellites to finish constructing, a multibillion dollar company to run, a pregnant Selina to worry about, a jigsaw the kids gave me for Christmas to complete, three weeks of the Gotham Chronicle sudoku’s I got behind on, nearly a thousand…”

“He’s utterly bored Alfred.” Selina stepped out of the lift and into the cave. Nodding, Alfred offered her a cup. “No thank you Alfred, the caffeine…”

He grinned. “Caffeine free ma’am, I thought you might join us.”

Bruce examined his cup. “I knew this tasted wrong, you’ve been giving me caffeine free tea?”

Selina took a cup gratefully. “He’s missing Tim.”

Alfred nodded. “Indeed, he’s worrying about the boy.”

“I am not…”

“We need to take his mind off it.” Selina mused.

“I do not need…”

Alfred sipped his tea. “There is this new criminal gang he’s not got much on yet?”

”Are you two listening to a word that I…”

Selina clapped her hands. “Perfect, he can go undercover and work his way in to find the boss, that’ll keep him from being under our feet.”

”Oh, so I don’t even get a say now in what I…”

Alfred had moved to the costumes section and began to pick out an outfit. “I have a few new pieces for Matches Malone that will work just fine, I’ll lay them out for you sir.”

Selina moved over and started stacking the rings and chains that Matches wore, while Bruce looked on with his mouth open. At last he set his jaw and moved over.

“Fine, but not the green jacket, it itches.”

🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇

The four men stacked the bags full of money into the back of an ice cream truck, before jumping in after it. It moved off slowly, passing the GCPD cars that were still circling the area, taking them to wherever this new criminal mastermind as hiding.

Bruce sat in the back, gently jostled from side to side as the van turned corners. He hated it when Alfred and Selina were right.

🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇🦇 🦇 🦇

^<< ^^First ^{| <} ^^Previous ^{| Next} ^^> ^{Coming March 1st}

As the holidays come,

Friends and family gather

From gingerbread homes to letters from the ones we love.

Christmas comes as always

A brief reminder that we find strength in family and friends

To fight the coming darkness of the year.

(Poem by u/FrostFireFive*)*

Batman

(by u/FrostFireFive)

The house on Robinson Corner was quiet as Gotham’s usual Christmas snow came falling down.  The red brick faded, and the lawn dead from the frost that hung over the air.  Kids were at home, playing with freshly delivered toys, the city quiet as Christmas time cheer coursed through its veins.

Simon Hurt’s shoes were made of Italian leather, soiled by the snow as he made his way to the door.  He had done his homework.  The house, three stories tall, was designed by infamous architect Cyrus Pinkey.  The only commercial work he had ever bothered to do.  The house was abandoned; the metal work of angels and demons rusted.  With kids running by and whispering such horrid rumors of the ghosts that hung over it and Gotham.

Of course, as Hurt turned the knob of the front door and entered, the sounds of an old TV could be heard. 

“Tell me, Spirit... Will he live?” George C. Scott’s Scrooge asked.  GBS loved broadcasting the classics.  

The interior of the house was a far cry from the outside.  The white walls had been haphazardly painted purple, green, flecks of orange dotting the crown molding.  Crates of explosives, guns, and joybuzzers were scattered about, along with Marx Brothers and Three Stooges film reels.  

All while a man sat in the chair facing the TV, a Christmas Carol still blaring. 

“I know you don’t normally take house calls,” Hurt said as he dusted the snow off of his black trench coat.  “In fact, I know you haven’t seen anyone recently.  Choosing to let those…pretenders take what you built to make some kind of movement.”

He was met by silence, as his eyes darted to the medical bills and notes piled up next to the laughing fish and mallets 

“I know your ex has managed to save the world a few times, she’s one of them now.  No more chaotic charm,” Hurt continued. “But in the spirit of Christmas, my organization wants to offer you a gift.  See, you can only work with the budget you have to steal for yourself.  And my organization wants to change that.”

Still silence. 

“For the first time in your career, we can give you all those wonderful toys.  To handle the…pest problem, this city has.  All we need is for you to give me a-” Hurt began

“Say what you want from me,” A voice said.

“We want you to kill the Batman and his ilk.  And will give you the money and resources to do it.  Unless you’re…”

BANG!

Hurt flinched a moment as a bang flag impaled the TV, the electric box becoming a smoking fire. A modern yule log. 

The laughter that rang out afterwards was the answer Hurt needed as a smile ran across the Joker’s face.  

COMING SOON TO BATMAN: THE LAST LAUGH

Cyborg

(by u/Commander_Z)

“No, these aren’t right either,” Vic bemoaned. Nic walked over and tore off the arm of one of the gingerbread men and ate it. 

“Yeah, you’re right. These are too soft, kinda bland too. It’s just not what Dad used to make.”

After graduating college and getting his own place, Vic was finally able to go to their storage locker and get more of their parents' stuff out to take back with him. Of course, the two Stones had already gone through it and taken the important things, but there was one notable exception: Silas’ gingerbread recipe. 

All throughout the past week, the Stones had been working to recreate their parents’ gingerbread recipe, but there was one crucial problem: they had too many recipes to work from. Silas Stone had loved to bake, and so cookbooks had become a safe, default birthday gift for him from lots of his friends over the years. And since every one of them had had at least one recipe he liked, the books stayed, creating a collection to rival that of a small library. 

They had made huge piles of books on the counter of Vic’s kitchen: one for books without a gingerbread recipe, ones with, and ones that they had already made. But there were only two books left to try, and the Stone’s felt no closer to finding the recipe.

Nic grabbed the last two books and handed one to Vic. She flipped her way to the gingerbread recipe, then tossed the book on the counter in frustration. 

“Literally the exact same recipe as the one we just made. Guess there’s only so many ways you can make one of these…”

“Yeah, this one looks the same as the one from this morning. I guess maybe we’re just misremembering what they’re like? It’s been a while after all…”

Vic tossed his book on the counter, and it landed with a thud on the fake marble countertop. But as it soared through the air, a small piece of paper with some yellowed tape stuck to the corner drifted out onto the floor. Vic scooped it up and read it before starting to laugh.

He handed it to Nic. “It’s a note from Dad. Must’ve been one of his older cookbooks.”

Ignore this recipe, just keep using this one from the molasses jar.

Nic read it and started to laugh too. “All that work making those complicated ones from those books, and it’s just the one from the back of a jar.”

“Well, want to make one more batch?” 

Vic and Nic looked at each other, then eyed the mound of cookies they had already baked. 

“... Maybe in a couple days. I think I’ve had more than enough for the day.”

Vic grabbed a handful of cookies and started chowing down. “Suit yourself. That’s just more for me.”

The Flash

(by u/brooky12)

From: Iris, To: Jerry

I got you a journal. I don’t know if you’re familiar with Hobonichi Techo, it’s a pretty popular way of tracking what you do and organizing your life by day. I don’t mean to imply that this is your golden answer or will give you something you’re looking for, but you’ve already mostly passed on anything more meaningful that I or we could give you, and I think that perhaps you could find value in a little bit less listlessness and a bit more direction. I hope you’re doing well!

From: Lisa and Leonard, To: Albert

We know you’re missing your previous life. Obviously things are better here, but just because the grass is greener on our side doesn’t mean you aren’t missing some things. Now, obviously, this is just a letter, so it isn’t like we’ve kidnapped your old project manager and set him up in the back office here – though like, if you want that, we can maybe figure something out! But we’ll be totally honest, we don’t know exactly what you’re missing of your old lab, just that you’ve mentioned missing that stuff. Let us know what you want us to nick, and consider that your gift, if that works for you?

From: Wally, To: Bart

You’ve done good. This family isn’t easy to be a part of, and you didn’t get much of a choice in being a part of it in the way that you are. It isn’t like you opted into taking night shift watching for natural disaster news reports on social media, let alone then having to run out there and doing evacuations. If you want me to take some shifts of yours at some point, just give me enough heads up that I can take a nap. Or don’t, up to you. But there are high expectations when you take up the mantle of The Flash - trust me, I know just as well as you - and you shouldn’t doubt yourself.

Harley & Ivy

(by u/ericthepilot2000)

New Titans

(by u/FrostFireFive)

Slade Wilson hated cemeteries.  Maybe it had to do with the fact he was responsible for checking so many people into these stone jungles.  The carvings of names and crosses the sign he had done his job. 

His job had made him strong, but his family provided purpose. A place for him to go home and put down his sword.   To just be Slade Wilson.  He remembered Joey playing his guitar, skilled fingers gliding across strings to play melodies only he could have thought of.   Adeline, while not a good cook, could make a fine turkey as they gathered around the table to be together every Christmas. 

Grant was always sitting by his father’s side. Talking about sports or whatever thing he had been interested in that day.  Even more than Addy and Joe, Slade Wilson understood his son, and only wanted the best for him as he became the next generation of Wilson to serve, to fight, to live.  

But the flowers clutched in his hands was a reminder to Slade that whatever his son was…it wasn’t here.  

The tombstone read Grant Wilson, a small slab was all Slade could bear to put up after HIVE had given him the husk that had been his son.  Fathers weren’t supposed to outlive their sons, especially on a Christmas like tonight.  The bright lights, the snow, the feeling that tomorrow would be a better day than before.  

But without Grant, without his family, there was no better tomorrow for Slade Wilson as he placed flowers on his grave.

“Merry Christmas, my son,” Slade muttered as he looked out.  The cemetery in Chicago had done a great job of maintaining the cemetery.  But Slade’s one eye drifted out to the lake, and the Tower that stood on it.  A mocking reminder that the people that took his family were still here, unpunished.  “I promise, justice is coming.”

He reached into his trench coat and pulled out his mask.  Carefully, he rolled it over the false visage of Slade Wilson, as the true face of Deathstroke stared back at Grant.  

“Enjoy your Christmas, Titans, it’ll be your last.”

Superman

(by u/MajorParadox)

Clark pushed Lara’s stroller through the busy mall as Jon walked alongside them. Jon kept glancing up at his dad.

“Is everything okay, buddy?” asked Clark.

“Yeah…” Jon replied. “Just excited for Santa, I guess.”

“Ho ho ho,” Lara giggled.

Jon stared at his dad again. “What are you going to do if Mommy doesn’t come?” he finally asked.

Jon stopped strolling and leaned down to his son. “She’s really trying to make it, but she got caught up with something important at work. If she can’t make it in time, I’m still here.”

“Yeah, but–” Jon started, but stopped. He didn’t want to give away what he knew.

“But what?” asked Clark.

“But,” Lara repeated. “But, but, but!”

“Nothing,” said Jon. And they continued toward Santa’s Workshop.

“Hey, watch it!” someone shouted nearby.

“You watch it,” said Lois, rushing past them. “Next time, move faster!”

“Mommy!” Jon yelled as she reached the rest of her family.

“Sorry, I’m late,” said Lois. “I didn’t miss Santa, did I?”

“Ho, ho, ho,” Lara said again.

Jon looked up at his dad again. “I guess you have to go now, huh?” he asked.

Lois and Clark shared a confused look and leaned down to Jon.

“Why do you think Daddy needs to go?” asked Lois.

“Umm…” Jon said, not quite sure how to answer.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jon,” Clark reassured him. “Also, we’re here.”

Jon looked up to see a line of children winding toward a big chair, Santa Claus himself sitting on it with a kid on his lap. An elf took a picture of them.

“Wait a minute…” said Jon. “He’s there.”

“Where did you think he’d be?” asked Clark.

Jon looked at his dad again. “Nowhere,” he said.

The family stopped at the back of the line, and Jon leaned down to the stroller.

“Lara, I was wrong,” he whispered. “Daddy isn’t Santa, after all.”

Lara giggled. “Ho, ho, ho!”

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Superman #115 - Scoop, Interrupted

<< | < | >

Author: MajorParadox

Book: Superman

Arc: Missing

Set: 115

Hunches and Hostility

The Scoop Office, Daily Planet, Metropolis

Years Ago

The Scoop, Perry White’s experiment to have teenage reporters involved with the paper, had been going strong for almost two years. Lois Lane’s front-page story put them on the map. She was the youngest reporter ever to appear on the front page of the Daily Planet.

Their momentum kept up with story after story, but there was one loose end Lois couldn’t shake. Dr. Dabney Donovan, who they caught experimenting on teens, was pronounced dead when the police raided his lab. The investigation was murky, but ultimately closed. Lois couldn’t let it go, though.

Richard White, the Scoop’s first team leader and Perry’s son, graduated from the program and moved upstairs. Lois had taken the lead. And now Cat Grant was next to leave. The day of her goodbye party was when everything about Donovan kicked into high gear.

Richard had ordered them pizza for the occasion and even came down there to help celebrate. Maddy and Devin were there eating pizza at their desks. James Worthington III, who had joined after Richard left, just stood against a wall, sipping a cup of soda. He was pretty full of himself, coming from a rich family. But he had his moments.

Cat showed her replacement, a young boy named Jimmy Olsen, her old desk, and how to jiggle the center drawer just right to open it.

Lois leaned against her desk with Richard. She couldn’t help but let her hand brush against Richard whenever she could. Jimmy had seemed to pick up on it, so she gave it a rest.

Something on Lois’s desk drew Richard’s eyes. Before he could reach down, Lois slid another stack of papers over it.

“Lois,” said Richard. “Was that Donovan’s case file?” he asked.

“Donovan?” Lois asked, tilting her head away in a flagrant attempt to be nonchalant. “Who’s that?”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to go on. And nobody else seemed to agree with her hunch that there was more to uncover.

“Lois…” Richard repeated. “You’re still on him? He’s been dead for a long time.”

Lois faked a cough and lifted her cup. “Speech!” she announced to the room, and Richard rolled his eyes.

“Speech! Speech!” Devin echoed. Maddy lifted her cup in unison, but didn’t join the chant.

“Okay, okay,” said Cat, smiling. She picked up her own cup. “I’m honored to have been part of The Scoop from its inception,” she started.

Jimmy moved away to give Cat some space and grabbed a slice of pizza as he listened with the others.

“But eventually, we all have to grow up,” Cat continued, with a quick, directed stare at Lois, who lifted an eyebrow at the implication. “As much as I’d like to stay down here forever… In this dungeon…”

That got a few chuckles.

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be the Daily Planet’s first gossip columnist.”

“What even is a gossip columnist?” Lois whispered to Richard.

“I’m sure Timmy will do a great job filling my shoes here,” said Cat.

“Jimmy,” the newcomer interrupted.

“Right, sorry, Jimmy,” Cat corrected.

“Here, here!” Lois chanted, and everyone cheered and took a sip of their drinks.

Cat walked over to Lois and Richard. “Looks like we’ll be reunited,” Cat told Richard, coyly. “It’ll be nice to see you again more often.”

As she walked away, Lois giggled.

“What?” Richard asked.

“She still likes you,” said Lois, letting her hand brush against him again.

Richard couldn’t help but smile at the brief moment of closeness until he caught Maddy looking in their direction. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture and position to establish a more professional distance.

Later That Night

Lois walked back through the Daily Planet entrance and moved toward the basement stairs, giving Ramona at the information desk a wave as she went by. Her parents had given her more and more leeway as she got older and proved herself. They let her work late from time to time, as long as she didn’t go anywhere else and always took a cab home if it was too late.

It was still overparenting in her mind, though. She had already graduated and was practically an adult. It wasn’t worth fighting over and losing whatever extra privileges they gave her. Besides, she never obeyed guidelines when they conflicted with her work.

Lois’ phone buzzed as she strolled down the stairs. She started reading a message from her cousin Chloe.

Chloe (Just Now) We just landed and can’t wait to see you tomorrow. My friend Cl–

“You’re late,” said Richard from the Scoop’s door, drawing her attention away from her phone

Lois smiled and shrugged. “Dinner ran late,” she said. “The General wouldn’t excuse anyone until Lucy finished her vegetables.”

“How long will they let you stay?” Richard asked, glancing at his watch.

Lois bit her bottom lip. “I don’t care,” she said, jumping into Richard’s arms.

The two kissed as Richard walked them into the empty office and kicked the door closed behind them. He placed her down on her desk, and they lost themselves in each other’s eyes.

“It was torture having you down here today,” said Lois.

“Really?” Richard teased. “I thought you liked me.”

“You know what I mean,” said Lois, brushing her hand against his arm. “I wish we didn’t have to keep us a secret.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” said Richard. “If it were up to me, I’d shout it out from the Planet’s rooftop.”

“It is what I want,” said Lois. “But, I still can’t stand it.”

She pulled Richard by the shirt until their lips met again, but then the door opened. Jimmy was there, holding a folder, almost dropping it when he walked inside.

Richard practically jumped away as Lois slid off her desk, but remained leaning against it, acting as if she had been there the whole time.

“Oh, sorry!” Jimmy exclaimed, his voice cracking a bit. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

“We were just–” Lois started.

“Uh, working,” Richard finished.

“It’s okay,” said Jimmy. “I saw you two at the party. I kinda figured you two were… You know…”

Lois forced away any embarrassment and stood up straight. “Listen,” she said. “This stays between us, got it?”

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Lane,” said Jimmy. “Not my secret to tell.”

“Miss Lane?” Lois repeated back.

“I’m sorry… Lois?” he tried.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Richard asked, motioning toward the folder.

“Oh,” Jimmy lit up. “I also overheard you talking about that Donovan case– Sorry, I eavesdrop sometimes. Anyway, I thought I’d take a look at the photos from the raid.” He opened up the file and dropped it on the desk, spreading out all the photos he developed from archived footage.

“I’ve seen these,” said Lois, studying them anyway.

“Not like this,” said Jimmy, tapping one photo in particular. “I developed it more clearly. You definitely missed something.”

The photo was taken when Emily Ramirez was rescued outside Metro General, and Lois had come up to talk to her. A man in the background was looking in their direction. This version was clearer, but the man was still blurry. However, the man’s unmistakable bushy mustache was now visible.

“That could be anyone,” said Richard.

Lois shook her head. “It’s him,” she stated.

Donovan was there watching that night, watching them.

He wasn’t dead, after all.

The Next Day

Lois and Jimmy had a blown-up photo of Donovan from the Metro General raid taped to the wall when the other Scoop members got there.

“Is… is that Donovan?” asked Maddy.

Lois nodded with a big smile on her face.

James took a closer look. “It can’t be him,” he said. “Donovan’s dead.”

Devin hovered beside him, squinting, but didn’t say anything yet.

“The case was closed,” said Lois. “The police didn’t need to dig for more surprises.”

“But you did,” Devin finally spoke up.

“And Lois might be right!” Jimmy added. “Something was off about that case. And this photo shows he could be–”

“New kid,” James interrupted. “We don’t operate on hunches. We operate on hard evidence.”

“Right,” said Maddy, dryly, slinking into her chair when she noticed the attention she drew. “I just mean…” she straightened herself. “Where have you been? Lois’s hunches are legendary.”

James sighed. “That’s fair,” he conceded.

“Hmm,” said Devin, still studying the photo.

Lois’s ears perked. Devin was on to something, and his theories tended to have more to back them up.

But her phone started ringing. It was from Chloe.

“Oh, shoot,” said Lois, realizing she never texted back her cousin. She answered as Devin returned to his desk, like a man on a mission. “Hey, Chlo,” she said.

“I’m not mad,” Chloe explained. “But, I am in Metropolis, so you’re not ditching me.”

“Of course not,” said Lois. “Dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Chloe answered. “But, we’re supposed to hang out today, too, remember? My friend from Smallville is here with me. You met him at my birthday party that one time. He’s excited to see you again.”

“You don’t say,” said Lois, distantly as the others crowded Devin’s desk. He definitely found something.

“Earth to Lois?” Chloe’s voice faded back into Lois’s focus. “Honestly, it’s amazing how oblivious you get when you’re on a story. Call me back, kay?”

“Promise,” said Lois, hanging up and breaking through the others to get to Devin’s side. “Talk,” she ordered.

“That guy with the mustache in the photo,” Devin started.

“Donovan,” Lois interjected.

“Right. He’s holding equipment with a S.T.A.R. Labs subsidiary logo.”

Lois waited a beat. “And?”

Devin tapped his mouse, and a webpage popped up for ‘Eidolon Enterprises.’

“It means you’re right,” Devin said, leaning back in his chair.

Maddy leaned forward. “Eidolon,” she read back. “That was the name of the experimental project Donovan was arrested for, right?”

“What does it have to do with S.T.A.R.?” asked James.

“Short answer is nothing,” Devin explained. “Slightly longer answer is Eidolon appeared out of nowhere and bought an old S.T.A.R. subsidiary building. Specifically, the one with the logo from the photo.”

“Wait,” Jimmy broke in, waving his hands. “This guy fakes his death and then starts a new company using his old project name? Is he an idiot?”

James tilted his head. “No,” he answered. “People with power like to flaunt it. He thinks he’s untouchable.”

“Well, he’s not,” said Lois. “I’m going to check out that building tonight. Who’s with me?”

James and Maddy were wide-eyed at the suggestion. Devin’s face was unreadable. And Jimmy pumped a fist in his excitement.

“Great,” said Lois, rushing to the door, almost skipping. She turned back, shooting finger guns toward her fellow Scoopers. “Give me two seconds and then we’ll plan.”

— Upstairs, Daily Planet Conference Room

Minutes Later

Perry White and the Daily Planet reporters shuffled out of the conference room once the meeting had ended. Only Richard and Cat were left behind.

Richard was hyper-focused on some final notes he wanted to get just right. Cat kept an eye on him as she made her way to the door, but then stopped and turned back.

“Still buried in your work?” asked Cat, gracefully sliding into the chair next to Richard.

“Yeah,” Richard agreed with a nod, eyes still on his notes.

“I never really noticed it down at the Scoop,” Cat continued. “But you work too hard.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to loosen up a bit. Someone needs to teach you to unwind.”

“Heh,” Richard almost laughed. “My, ah– Lois says the same thing.”

“She’s smart for her age,” Cat said, taking her hand back.

Richard finally looked up to catch Cat’s eyes on him. “She’s not that much younger than us,” he stated. “Do you have a problem with her?”

“No, of course not,” Cat answered. “I do think she’s crushing on you, though. It’s cute.”

“Um…” Richard wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

“To tell you the truth,” Cat continued, her hand returning to his shoulder, but gentler this time. “She’s not the only one.”

Cat leaned in, their lips meeting for a moment before Richard pulled away.

“Oh,” said Cat. “I’m sorry. That was very unprofessional.”

“Lois,” said Richard.

“Lois?” Cat asked, turning around to find the Scoop leader standing in the conference room doorway.

Lois turned back and moved quickly towards the elevators.

Richard got up and rushed after her.

“Don’t follow me downstairs,” said Lois as the elevator's doors closed.

Cat watched from afar. “What just happened?” she said under her breath.

In Too Deep

Eidolon Enterprises

Night

Lois, Maddy, Devin, James, and Jimmy approached the office building from a rear entrance. The lights inside were dimmed, suggesting they were closed for the night. The last thing they needed was to run into someone while snooping. Especially if that someone was Donovan himself.

They were all wearing black clothing, and Jimmy had an expensive-looking camera strapped around his chest.

When Lois reached the door, she jiggled the handle.

“I assume it’s locked,” said James. “Did you expect something else?”

Lois rolled her eyes and turned to Devin. “Can you get us in?” she asked.

Devin’s eyes widened. “Me? How could I get us in?”

“Relax,” Jimmy said, cutting in between them and taking a small pouch out of his pocket. “I got this covered.”

Lois watched on with glee as Jimmy positioned a couple of lockpicks into the keyhole.

“The new guy is some kind of criminal,” James stated.

“More like a Boy Scout,” Jimmy retorted, swinging the door open.

The group slowly entered, Maddy and Jimmy holding a flashlight to help them see. Maddy’s started flickering until it went dark.

“Hold up,” she said, shaking the flashlight, which just caused a couple more flickers.

Lois walked back to Maddy and took it from her. She unscrewed the top and fiddled with the batteries. “Sometimes they just need a good shake-up,” she said, reassembling the flashlight. She turned it back on, and a beam of light lit up a figure at the doorway entrance.

Everyone screamed.

“Hey, it’s just me, Richard,” the reporter said, motioning with his hands to quiet down.

“Richard?” asked Lois. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you guys here,” said Richard. “I know you’ve been looking into Donovan again, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t get into any trouble.” He approached Lois, who gave him a death stare. “I also wanted to talk about what happened,” he continued in a whisper.

Lois felt her heart drop. It wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation. She didn’t want to have it at all.

Richard continued. “It’s not–”

“Can you guys do this later?” James interrupted. “We’re kind of in the middle of a crime here.”

Lois nodded and walked forward to take the lead. “Don’t call it that,” she said. “We’re in the middle of an ‘investigation,’” she clarified.

The group made their way to an office, and Lois turned the handle. “See, sometimes they’re unlocked,” she told James dryly.

Everyone split up and looked through different files on the desk and in the filing cabinets.

“I think I found something,” said Maddy from a corner cabinet.

Lois rushed over, the others following behind her, until they were all crowded around. Maddy pointed to a line in the paper in her hand.

“‘Neural mapping,’” Maddy read aloud. “That phrase was in Emily’s case file, right?”

“Yes,” Lois confirmed. “It was part of whatever sick experiments Donovan was performing on her and the others.”

“Shhh,” James cautioned.

Lois waved him away. “Do you see anything about new testing?” Lois asked Maddy.

“Guys!” James whispered loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Somebody’s coming!”

He was right, footsteps could be heard from the hallway.

Everyone shuffled and hid in the best places they could. Jimmy and Maddy squeezed into a small place behind one of the cabinets. Richard and Lois dropped under the desk. And Devin and James went behind the door.

Lois immediately regretted being stuck with Richard. They were pressed up against each other to fit in the cramped spot. After seeing him in the conference room earlier, he was the last person she wanted to be near, let alone scrunched up against.

“That better not be Cat,” Lois whispered. She knew it wasn’t a great time for a joke, but it felt like she had to let it out. It was bad enough being forced to be there with Richard. She didn’t want to see Cat-The-Backstabber either.

Richard’s distressed expression made it clear he didn’t appreciate the humor in it anyway.

“Oh, come on,” a voice said from the doorway, as the overheard lights flickered on.

Lois knew that voice. Donovan.

“I can see you,” the scientist continued.

Lois peeked out from the side of the desk to find a man in a black suit grab her.

Later

Lois and the others were tied to chairs in the lab. There was an ominous hum from a cluster of tube-like machines. She struggled to get free, but it was no use.

One of the thugs in the black suits approached her. “Knock it off,” he ordered in a deep, menacing voice.

Lois wasn’t intimidated, though. She stared the guard down until he backed away.

Donovan sat at a desk across from the chairs. He hadn’t spoken since they were brought there.

“You can’t hold us here,” Richard stated, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” James agreed. “Don’t you know who I am? Who my father is?”

Donovan just chuckled, his eyes still on his work.

“How are you alive?” Lois asked.

Donovan finally looked up. He waved the two guards out of the room. “Go take a break,” he ordered. Once they were gone, Donovan stood up and walked over to the chairs.

“You know, I’m not one to let the past get to me,” Donovan started. “If I wanted revenge on you and your little… club… The things I could have done…”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” said Lois.

Jimmy’s mouth dropped. He knew Lois was tough, but he didn’t realize she was made of steel.

“You’re not here for an interview,” Donovan said. “I need to know what you saw.”

“We didn’t see anything,” said Devin.

“Sure,” Donovan replied.

“What are you going to do with us?” asked Jimmy.

“Good question,” said Donovan, returning to his desk. “I have some ideas, though. Ideas are my specialty, after all.”

Lois watched the lab door creak open. Donovan turned back at the noise, but dismissed it upon finding it closed.

It looked like nobody was there, but then Jimmy caught Lois’s attention and motioned to the floor. Someone was crawling into the room.

It was Cat, sneaking in like some kind of cat-woman.

She slinked her way toward Donovan’s desk, picking up a fire extinguisher standing next to it. She jumped up in a huff.

“Hi,” said Cat.

Before Donovan could react to her appearance, the new gossip columnist swung the fire extinguisher across his face, knocking him to the ground.

“Look out!” Maddy yelled as Donovan rose back up, blood dripping from his nose.

Cat took another swing, but the scientist grabbed hold of the red cylinder and tossed it to the side. “Just for that,” he said. “You’ll be the first test subject in the next phase.”

Donovan lunged forward to grab her, but Cat leaped back and retreated into the room. Donovan chased her down, but as he moved past the chairs, Lois extended her tied-up legs outward, tripping and sending him careening headfirst into a metal cabinet. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

“Wow,” Jimmy stated, breathing heavily.

“Shhhh,” Cat pleaded as she ran over to the chairs. “Those guards are outside smoking. I snuck past them to get inside.” She proceeded to untie Richard first, and Lois gritted her teeth.

“Did you call the police?” Richard asked as he and Cat moved to untie the rest.

“No,” said Cat. “I followed you here, but saw them entering after you. I had to make sure you were okay.“

Cat approached Lois. “Looks like you were right, after all,” she said.

Lois turned away to check on Maddy. “We'd better get out of here,” she said.

The Scoop Office, Daily Planet

Later

Perry sat with the Scoopers in their office, waiting for the police he had called once they explained what went down.

Lois had kept her distance from Richard, but still cringed at how Cat stayed by his side.

Cat caught her judging stare and came over instead. “Lois,” she said.

“Thanks for saving us,” Lois offered, but it came out more monotone than intended.

“Of course,” said Cat. “But I wanted to talk to you about–”

“Don’t,” said Lois. Even if they were alone, she didn’t want to have that conversation. At least, not yet.

Cat clocked her unease and continued quieter to avoid prying ears. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said. “I know you have a crush–”

“A crush?!” Lois repeated, much louder than she wanted. But she couldn’t help it. The train had left the station. “I’m not a little girl,” she continued. “Richard and I were dating, you condescending–”

Lois realized what she said when all eyes in the room were on her.

Richard approached slowly. “Were?” he asked.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” said Lois, running for the door, just as it swung open.

Her father, The General, was there.

“Lois!” he called. “Are you okay?”

Lois jumped into his arms, trying to hold back tears. “I’m fine,” she answered softly. “Can we go home?”

Sam noted everyone watching them. “Of course,” he answered.

The phone on Lois’ desk rang, and Perry picked it up. “Perry White here.”

Lois turned back and leaned down to the desk, waiting to see what it was about.

After a few moments, Perry said, “Thank you,” and hung up the phone. “That was the police,” he addressed the room. “The building was completely empty. And no sign of Donovan.”

“That’s impossible,” said Lois. “We were just there.”

“We didn’t make this up,” Richard added.

“Of course not,” said Perry. “There’s definitely something fishy going on here.”

“I’ll say,” Jimmy agreed. ”How does a supposedly dead guy clean out a whole building in a few hours?”

“He must have more resources than we realized,” James added.

“I don’t care how many resources he has or how powerful he thinks he is,” said Lois. “He’s going down.”

Full Circle

Lane Townhouse

The Next Night

Lois sat with Chloe on a bench in the small backyard. They were there for the family dinner.

“... really wanted to see you again, but there was an emergency back on the farm,” Chloe was saying, but Lois couldn’t help but drift in and out. “I thought you two might hit it off, but I didn’t know you already had a boyfriend. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” said Lois. “Maybe that was a mistake.” She took a beat and then tilted her head to the side. “Did you just say you were going to set me up with your friend from Smallville?” she asked.

“Well, not exactly,” Chloe answered. “But you would make a cute couple.”

“I thought you had a cr–” Lois took a second to find a better word. “I thought you liked, uh, what’s his name again, Ralph?”

“Ralph?!” Chloe shot back, shaking her head. “I swear you never pay attention. How you ever made it to the front page of the Daily–”

“Ken, right?” Lois tried again.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I used to like him,” she said. “But I’ve changed since then.”

“I’m sorry, Chlo,” said Lois. “There’s just been a lot going on for me lately.”

“I know.” Chloe nudged her shoulder, “That Donovan creep sounds like a pain. I wish I could help.”

The back door opened.

“Lois,” her mother, Ella, called. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“Oh god,” said Lois. “It’s probably Richard. Or worse, Cat!”

“Neither,” Ella clarified. “I figured he was from the paper, but he wouldn’t say his name. Sounded important, though.”

Lois felt her stomach drop.

Ella turned back inside. “Let me get your father,” she said.

Lois rushed inside, Chloe by her side. They peaked around the corner to the front entrance. A man was there with a bandaged nose.

“It’s him,” Lois whispered to her cousin.

“Him, who?” asked Chloe. “Donovan?!”

Sam huffed to the door from the other side. “You,” he stated, recognizing Donovan immediately.

“Don’t you move,” Sam ordered, grabbing him by the jacket.

Lois noticed a weird symbol stitched into the top-right corner, but it left her mind when Donovan began speaking.

“You can’t touch me,” said Donovan. “The police found nothing, and if they look into it, I have a perfect alibi for the time I supposedly held some children prisoner last night.”

“How are you even alive?” Sam demanded.

“I never died,” Donovan explained, eying the fist still gripping his jacket. “Do you mind?”

Sam let go, and Donovan straightened his coat while walking into the front hallway like he owned the place.

“The police found my twin brother, Daniel, that day at Metro General,” Donovan continued. “He was behind the experiments. All the evidence points to him, not me.”

Chloe leaned toward Lois. “Twin brother?” she whispered. “What is this, a soap opera?”

Lois stepped into the hallway. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“Lois,” Sam warned her, lifting his arm to prevent her from getting too close.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be,” Donovan squealed. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Chloe’s parents, Gabe and Moira, approached, but Ella assured them Sam had it under control.

Lois’s little sister Lucy, clutching a large gorilla plushie, snuck around the other corner to stand with Chloe for a better view.

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked her cousin.

Chloe noticed the gorilla. “Is that one of those… wait…”

“I’m here because I can be,” said Donovan. “You have to realize nothing you do will stop me from my experiments. And, if you ever try and interfere again, things will get… messy.”

“Watch it,” Sam warned him. “You’re trying my patience.”

“Your experiments?” Lois asked. “I thought it was your ‘twin brother’?”

“Of course it was me, you stupid…” Donovan started, but pulled back, trying to find better words. “You think you’re so smart,” he tried again, staring her down. “But you’re just a snot-nosed little bit–”

Sam decked Donovan swiftly in the nose, knocking him to the ground.

“Owwwwww!” Donovan cried, cupping his hands over his rebroken nose.

He shook it off and pulled himself up, laughing wildly. The kind of laugh you’d hear from a cartoon villain.

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked.

Donovan just continued laughing and walked away.

Sam made a move to step outside, but Ella pulled him back. “Sam, no,” she said.

“I’m not letting that man leave,” Sam told his wife. “I don’t care if I have to take matters into my own hands.”

“You won’t have to, Uncle Sam,” said Chloe, approaching with Lucy’s gorilla toy. She turned it over and pressed a button.

“Of course it was me,” a recording began.

“Chloe, I love you!” Lois shouted, her face lit up. “You got that whole rant?” she asked, talking over the playback.

Chloe nodded. “You’re not the only one with tricks,” she said.

“You ever think of moving out here?” Lois asked. “We could use your tricks at the Scoop.”

“I have my own things going on,” said Chloe. “But thanks anyway.”

Sam took the gorilla toy. “I have a call to make,” he said. “That smug bastard won’t be getting far.”

The Scoop Office, Daily Planet

Days Later

Lois sat with her legs resting on her desk. She was holding a Daily Planet newspaper, admiring her second front-page story.

Evil Scientist Alive and Behind Bars

“You know, Lois,” said James from his desk. “There’s such a thing as being too proud.”

“Say that again when you get two front-page stories,” Lois shot back.

“It’s okay to be proud,” Maddy offered.

“Thanks, Mads,” Lois replied.

“I’m sure the chief will be making you a job offer any day now,” said Jimmy. “Don’t forget us down here, okay?”

“I don’t think he likes being called 'chief,’” said Devin.

“How do you know?’ asked Jimmy.

“I hear things,” Devin replied, returning to his computer. “Like The Scoop probably won’t survive long once Lois is gone.”

The room got quiet at that remark.

Maddy got up and walked over to Lois’s desk. “How are things with you-know-who?” she asked quietly.

“It’s over,” Lois answered at full volume, not trying to hide anything. She realized she might as well clear the air with everyone all at once. “Yes, Richard and are were dating. But, we’re not anymore. And, it has nothing to do with Cat Grant. We decided it’s best not to date in the workplace.”

“I think that’s a good rule,” James said.

Maddy bit her lip. “Well, maybe sometimes,” she said under her breath.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who knocks around here?” Devin said, not even looking away from his screen.

Lois got up and opened the door to find Cat standing there. And Lois’s smile faded.

“Can we talk?” Cat asked.

Lois nodded, and the two walked the hall of old Daily Planet headlines toward the stairs.

“You know I had no idea you and Richard were together, right?” Cat asked.

“I know,” said Lois, not making eye contact.

Cat sighed. “So, are we okay?”

“Sure,” Lois answered in her least convincing tone.

“Lois,” said Cat, stopping her. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Lois took a deep breath and turned to face her former Scoop teammate. “I get it,” she said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and it’s all water under the bridge. But let’s not pretend we’re friends, okay? Just let it go.”

Cat nodded and continued toward the stairs as Lois turned back to the office.

But then Cat called back. “Just make sure to send me a Scoop jacket if we ever get them made.”

Lois remembered Donovan’s jacket. There was a symbol on it that she didn’t recognize. It was so quick, she could barely remember. All she knew was that it resembled an hourglass.

It would be years before she’d connect that symbol to Cadmus.

Kent House

Present

“Once we learned about Cadmus, the pieces started to come together,” Lois explained to Chloe over their video chat. “But it wasn’t until Luthor brought them into the public eye that we learned Donovan was a co-founder.”

“I remember,” said Chloe. “It answered so many open questions. Especially how he was able to serve so little time. His connections through Cadmus must have gotten him the early release.”

“Not only that,” Lois continued. “Cadmus didn’t start after Eidolon. Whatever he was doing must have been too extreme, even for them. So he had to go off on his own for that research.”

“And we still don’t have all those details,” Chloe added.

“I should have walked into Cadmus the moment I learned he was involved with them,” Lois stated. “Popped him another good one, just like Dad.”

“Heh,” Chloe laughed. “I would have paid to see that.”

“Now he’s holding hostages again,” Lois said. “And we have no idea where.”

“You know what still bugs me about Eidolon?” Chloe said. “How did they clear out the building so fast before the police could get there?”

“Wait a minute,” said Lois, a lightbulb exploding in her mind. “Chloe, the tunnels…”

“The old Cadmus tunnels?” Chloe asked. “Oh, right. They got cleared out quickly, too. After Conner and Linda were rescued. But we already know Donovan’s connected to Cadmus.”

“That’s not the point,” said Lois. “He’s not just connected to them, he helped build the place.”

Chloe snapped her fingers when it clicked for her. “That place was a maze, but it had perfect access to move people, equipment… And he must know that place inside out.”

Lois stood up from her desk. “Where better for him to keep hostages hidden away?” she asked. “That’s where we’ll find them.”

“That’s where we’ll find him.”

<< | < | >

After Credits Scene

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Superman #122 - Man vs. God (Invasion!)

<< | < | >

Author: MajorParadox

Book: Superman

Arc: Against All Gods

Set: 122

Event: Invasion!

Recommended Reading:

• Justice League Alpha #1

• The Flash #121

• New Titans #42

• Cyborg #84

Corruption

Watchtower

Darkseid stood quiet by the windows overlooking Earth as Kara, Diana, J’onn, Arthur, Jay, and Harley approached slowly. Kara’s blackened eyes had lit up red hot, and Harley swung her hammer back and forth like a pendulum.

“Snap out of it,” said Clark, Krypto by his side growling as the other heroes in the satellite crowded beside them. “Kara,” he added softly, but loud enough for his cousin to hear. “It’s me.”

“I know who you are,” said Kara.

“We all do, Big Blue,” Harley added with a swing of her weapon over her shoulder. “And you’re about to become a blueberry pancake!”

“Kill them all,” said Darkseid without even looking in their direction.

The corrupted heroes sprang into action. Kara’s heat vision fired wildly as J’onn phased himself invisible. Diana and Arthur lunged forward, pummeling their way through her friends. Jay sped toward the unpowered, swinging away to knock them out before they could even notice what was happening.

Clark grabbed hold of Kara, diverting her aim from the others, but it sliced through some computer terminals instead. Alarms began blaring, indicating emergency bulkheads closed off any areas breached by her attack.

Krypto grabbed onto Diana’s leg to keep her from further attacks, but she shook him loose.

The demon known as Etrigan blew out a spread of mystical flames, knocking her and Arthur to their knees.

“If your souls have truly become tainted,” he said. “With my hellfire you will become acquainted.”

J’onn appeared behind Booster and Blue Beetle, but Beast Boy, who had transformed into a green gorilla, clocked it and smashed the Martian away before he could attack.

“Niatnoc ruo desimorpmoc sdneirf,” said Zatanna as sparkly boxes appeared around the mind-controlled heroes.

Diana and Kara quickly broke their magical prisons apart as J’onn phased through his, but the heroes took the opportunity to converge on them, while the rest tried to get free.

Clark used the open moment to confront the ruler of Apokolips himself.

“Release our people,” said Clark. “End this invasion. I won’t ask again.”

Darkseid finally turned around. “You didn’t come to Apokolips with the others to deliver your ultimatum,” he said. “It makes you look weak.”

“I was needed here,” said Clark. “We had an understanding. You broke your word with New Genesis to stay away from Earth. Why did you attack us?”

Darkseid turned back to the window.

Clark grabbed hold of the New God’s arm. “Hey!” he said. “I asked you a–”

“You dare?!” Darkseid yelled, slapping the Man of Steel all the way across the room. The hit sent him flying through the wall and crashing out one of the windows in the observation hallway and into the vacuum of space.

Kent House, Metropolis

Meanwhile

Lois was the only one still awake, Jon and Lara were fast asleep on the couch between her and Nia who had just drifted off herself.

The news had been reporting on victories across the world, at least in areas with metahuman protection. But as progress was made, the parademons began congregating into smaller areas where heroes, SCU, A.R.G.U.S, and other meta-response agencies were able to tackle them more efficiently.

Clark had a chance to check in recently before heading to the Watchtower to regroup. He was optimistic it was only a matter of time before the rest of Apokolips’ forces retreated.

She still couldn’t sleep, though. Not until it was over.

Nia was rattled for a whole other reason. She was convinced she dreamed about the parademons before they even came to Earth. Nightmares about them would disturb anyone alone. But this only made it worse.

Lois wasn’t so sure. Nia must have dreamed about some generic monsters and her mind associated these ones retroactively. What were the odds she had actual premonitions?

Well, crazier things have happened.

Nia jolted awake. “Whoa,” she said, readjusting to her surroundings, and fixating on Jon, who was curled up next to her.

“You finally fell asleep,” said Lois softly. “At least for a moment there.”

The news interrupted reporting from Hub City to show a zoomed video feed of the night sky directed at Watchtower.

It was breaking up into pieces.

Watchtower

Clark recovered quickly as the emergency breach protocols closed off the area he was thrown through. But Darkseid’s Omega Beams cut right through and into Clark’s shoulder, pain surging through his entire body.

The red lasers zigzagged around upwards and down, slicing the satellite in half.

Clark tried to scream, but there was no sound.

The Watchtower was filled with heroes who couldn’t survive in space.

The hero sped into action, getting as many people into escape pods as he could, the realization of the destruction hitting him with every loose object floating past.

A Gray Ghost coffee mug.

A beanbag chair that Booster claimed was comfortable, but nobody ever used.

Even a Wonder Woman action figure that Diana kept by the water cooler.

Zatanna managed to get a protective bubble around anyone in her vicinity that needed air.

Emergency transporter protocols also activated, locking in and sending anyone it could to Earth safely.

The heroes under Darkseid’s control were also accounted for and safe, leaving only Clark and Darkseid left.

“You didn’t need to do that,” said Clark.

The air flow was still thick enough in the conference room for them to hear each other.

Darkseid waved his hand. “Irrelevant,” he said, rushing forward to grab Clark by the neck.

The New God tossed Clark back outside into space and leaped forward, stopping himself at the edge of the open hole, and then swinging the entire top half of the structure at the Man of Steel, sending him flying further away from the planet.

Not Over Yet

Outside Earth’s Orbit

Clark and Darkseid traded blows, sending each other and the Watchtower wreckage further away with every action. Life support was completely demolished at that point, so there wasn’t any air for verbal exchanges.

Just as well. Darkseid didn’t want to listen to reason.

The New God had grabbed hold of Clark by the neck again, delivering a massive blow to his stomach and following it up with a smack across the face with a piece of metal debris.

Clark had the wind knocked out of him, but he was still holding strong. As he steadied himself, he wondered if Darkseid needed to breathe at all.

The thought left his mind as the Omega Beams came flashing toward him.

Clark evaded them as best as he could, but they were always one step ahead of him. He couldn’t keep it up for long. He made a quick u-turn in his flight path and dug deep for an extra burst of speed, the weaponized rays zigzagging to follow along. Just before catching back up with Darkseid, he ducked down, letting the behemoth threat take a straight hit from his own attack.

Clark took another moment, considering his next move. The sight of Earth caught his eye. He hadn’t realized how far away they’d drifted in their fight. The planet was getting smaller and smaller.

Darkseid grabbed hold of Clark again, but the hero chopped away at his hand in quick succession, until the grip was released. He followed it up by clutching onto the New God’s chest plate with both hands, and using the leverage to return a kick to his stomach that sent the enemy flying farther away. Another burst of speed with heat vision blaring continued the onslaught.

Clark’s heat vision was quickly challenged by Darkseid’s Omega Beams, each fighting for dominance in the directional flow, like a tug of war lightshow. Clark began to overpower him, as he felt the unfiltered yellow sunlight in space feeding his energy levels, but it was short-lived. Darkseid held his fists tight and the Omega Beams exploded forward, dissipating Clark’s heat vision and tearing into him with an intense pain far beyond what he felt before.

He expected the force to send him flying back toward Earth, but instead he was pulled toward Darkseid, the energy working like a tractor beam. He struggled to break free, but was met with the New God’s fists again, tossing him away and father along into the depths of space.

Kent House, Metropolis

The reporting of Watchtower’s fallout was disjointed and full of speculation. Not all heroes were accounted for, but they had means of getting to safety that’d go unseen. Through a combination of amateur telescopic footage and official NASA releases, the public was able to capture glimpses of Clark’s fight with a monstrosity that could only be Darkseid.

Clark wasn’t kidding about him. He looked like a cleancut Doomsday. And at least on the same power level.

Commentators were questioning what could happen to Earth if a battle with such powerful beings made their way to the Moon. According to the latest accounts, they were nearing it, too.

The scientist they were questioning spoke in a monotonous voice, it was hard to stay focused. In fact, Lois felt her eyes struggling to stay open. She had been up all night, after all. And after the adrenalin rush of taking down the mayor of Metropolis.

Lois was running on fumes at that point.

And she had to find out who kept stealing her headphones. Lois was sure the bunny was behind it. That sneaky rascal. He kept telling her how much he wanted them. But she knew they wouldn’t even fit his bunny ears. He was better suited to wear a television antenna.

“Sup,” said the bunny, suddenly walking beside Lois down a long, foggy hallway.

“I want my headphones back,” said Lois, glancing down at the rabbit in his two-piece, navy-blue suit.

“I don’t have them,” the bunny claimed. “Maybe she does,” he pointed ahead.

The Kent’s babysitter, Nia, was standing at the end of the hall, no doorways anywhere to be seen.

“Okay,” said Nia. “I’m dreaming of Lois Lane and a talking bunny rabbit.”

“You’re dreaming,” Lois repeated. “Wait, I’m dreaming.” she realized.

“Nee-Nee,” said Jon, suddenly beside his babysitter and taking her hand.

Nia tilted her head. “This isn’t my dream,” she said.

“What does that even mean?” asked Lois.

The bunny tapped on Lois’ leg. She looked down at him and he opened his mouth.

“BOOM!!”

Lois, Nia, and Jon all awoke simultaneously startled by the loud noise from the street, which had sent Lara into a crying fit. A mesmerizing yellow glow filled the house.

Nia comforted Lara as Lois and Jon ran to the door, Lois keeping her son behind her as she opened it. The yellow light faded away and a woman was left standing in the middle of the road.

It was Lois’ sister Lucy.

Turning Tides

The Moon

Soon

Clark got in some more hits, but Darkseid kept countering with attacks of his own. His Omega Beams were wreaking havoc on his uniform. Clark’s cape was in tatters, his shoulder was exposed, and there were scattered rips all over.

They were within reach of the Moon and Clark hated that he couldn’t savor the moment. While he had flown past before, whether in a spaceship or under his own power, he never stopped to take in the view and set down to walk on it firsthand.

Darkseid struck Clark across the mouth, sending him careening down until he crashed onto the surface. Before he could take in the gravity of being on the Moon, he noticed the remaining pieces of Watchtower had been thrown down next, barreling toward him.

On instinct, Clark sprang to his feet, his boots leaving the first ever Kryptonian footprints in the dust. He flew up at the incoming projectiles, catching them in his hands to slow their impact. There was no way he was letting Darkseid deface what people have been looking up at for all of human history. Even if it was an exaggerated outcome of that attack, the Moon was precious. He wanted to keep it undisturbed as much as possible.

But Darkseid didn’t have the same philosophy. He took Clark’s distraction to leap down next to him and smash him back down with both fists.

The New God took hold of the slowed Watchtower fragments and slammed it down over him.

Clark burst free of the rubble and up and away from the lunar surface. But Darkseid had already been leaping up toward him, and grabbed a hold of his feet. The Apokolitian ruler swung the hero around and hurled him back toward the Moon at such a tremendous speed that Clark couldn’t recover. Darkseid put extra fuel on the fire with another Omega Beam attack, driving Clark’s fall with a much greater force.

The impact was like an atomic bomb.

If sound could travel in space, it would have been deafening.

Kent House, Metropolis

Meanwhile

Lucy was inside on the couch with a cup of hot coffee in her hands. The stories she was telling about her time on Apokolips sounded like science fiction.

Lois had heard about it before from Clark. Hell, she’d even been to the Phantom Zone and other planets herself, but it still didn’t sound real.

“If Superman is fighting Darkseid now,” said Nia. “What if his mind gets taken over like the other Justice League members?”

“I was wondering about that,” said Lucy. “This is just a hunch–”

“We Lanes are famous for those,” Lois interjected.

Lucy smiled. “My guess would be Darkseid is able to take over when a person feels a loss of hope.”

The Moon

After Clark shook off the impact, he flew back up to find Darkseid just hovering there in space. Instead of restarting the fight, Clark turned around to see the outcome of Darkseid’s last attack.

The Moon was mostly intact but noticeably damaged. So much so it had to be visible from Earth.

It was bad enough Darkseid was a tyrannical dictator causing untold suffering across his and countless other worlds.

It was bad enough he broke his treaty with New Genesis and invaded Earth.

It was bad enough the Watchtower was gone.

But, now Earth’s Moon was damaged.

Sure, it wasn’t quite on the same level as the abhorrent crimes Darkseid was guilty of already, but it was still a hugely important part of human history. It was a marvelous, shared monument across time and people.

And Darkseid broke it.

Clark let his eyes heat up and tightened his fists beyond any limits his careful nature would ever allow.

Why was he still holding back, anyway? They weren’t on Earth. No innocent bystanders or risks of too much destruction. Darkseid could take it, too. And while the attacks took their toll, the sun was regenerating Clark faster than within Earth’s atmosphere.

Clark turned to Darkseid, ready to unleash his fury, but the New God waved his hand again. The same way he did back when he told him his concern was “irrelevant.”

A Boom Tube opened and Darkseid quickly disappeared into its vortex.

Clark considered following along. But decided against it. Instead, he turned back toward Earth.

It looked so small. But Clark knew that was just perspective. Earth was as big as the spirit of its people. And that spirit was massive.

Kent House, Metropolis

Lucy had explained how the mood had shifted after they encountered Kalibak. Add that to the knowledge of what was happening back on Earth and anyone would have felt at least somewhat defeated. Perhaps that was what let Darkseid get his hold on them. Like a rodent finding a weak spot in the roof to get inside. Even if it was a small spot.

“If that’s the case,” said Lois. “Superman will be okay.”

Nia lifted her eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“She knows Superman better than anyone,” said Lucy.

“Look,” said Jon, pointing at the TV.

The news was showing footage from all over the world of Boom Tubes opening up for parademons and the Apokoliptian forces to leave.

“Is it over?” asked Jon. “Did we win?”

Lois walked over to the door and opened it up, running out into the street. Lucy, Jon, and Nia followed her, Lara still in Nia’s arms. The yellow glows of opening and closing wormholes from downtown Metropolis could be seen in the distance.

“Huh,” said Lucy, staring upward.

One by one, the others looked up with her.

The Moon had a small crack in it.

High Above Metropolis

Soon

Clark had used his emergency oxygen mask for his trip back, but packed it back into his belt once he entered Earth’s atmosphere.

It was good to be back and see the celebrations across the city.

Darkseid’s armies were gone. The invasion was over.

Why? Clark had no idea.

Would they come back? That was a problem for another time. It was important to focus on the positive. It was over. Everyone could finally rest and then work on recovery.

A sonic boom echoed across the skyline as Kara popped into view across from Clark.

“Kara,” he said. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I’m heading home to check on the fam. Want to join me?”

Kara didn’t respond, but began floating over slowly.

“Oh, no,” said Clark.

Her eyes were still entirely blacked over. They quickly filled with red heat vision energy.

Kara smirked. “This isn’t over yet.”

More Invasion Stories!

• Flash #122

• Harley & Ivy #7

• New Titans #43 (Coming Soon!)

To Be Concluded

• Cyborg #85

• Harley & Ivy #8 (Coming Soon!)

• Batman #59 (Coming Soon!)

• Justice League Omega #1 (Coming Soon!)

<< | < | >

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Just joining us? Fall behind? Check the welcome post here or the full set list here.

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Crime Alley - May 18, 2026

It was unusually cold that night, 10 degrees below the norm. Standing in the cold, dark alley, barely illumuniated by the street lamp at the front of the alley, Bruce stood, contemplating what had just transpired. Even though the night may be cold, Bruce’s blood still ran hot from what had happened.

Jumping into the BatMobile parked in the street nearby, Bruce sank in the buttery leather seat. He flicked a few switches and the car roared to life, a red glow emanating through the caben. Feeling the soft, steady rumbling of the engine, Bruce pressed the accelerator, sending the car speeding away.

The BatCave - May 18, 2026

The doors to the cave creaked open, gears cranking and whining as they hulled up the enormous door that concealed the cavern underneath the Wayne Orphanage. Arriving at the end of the runway, the red-tinted glass top slid open and Bruce jumped out, cape trailing behind him. He took off his cowl, holding it in his hand and looking at it, an intensity in his eyes.

For years he had been Batman, fighting the crime and corruption that plagued his city. No more though, no longer could he be the Batman. Placing both hands on the cowl, Bruce crushed it, feeling the shards of graphite penetrate his skin. He ignored the pain though, he deserved it. He deserved a whole hell of a lot more.

Wayne Orphanage Kitchen - May 19, 2026

Sitting, all by himself, at the small wooden table, toes on the cold tile floor, Dick enjoyed his bowl of cereal. Usually, the kitchen was one of the busiest places in the entire orphanage, always full of people going in and out, cooks preparing food. Not today though for whatever reason. Maybe it was because the kids got their allowances today and were out spending it? Yah, that was probably it.

Surrounded by stainless steel countertops, piled with a plethora of cooking wears, ranging from the normal to the rather unusual, Dick stared at the small television sat in the corner, completely unaware that Bruce was behind him, leaning on his cain. Coming around, Bruce sat at the table, placing his bandaged hands down and looking at Dick with tired eyes.

“I can’t be Batman anymore.” said Bruce.

Dick frowned, “Is the arthritis getting that bad?”

“No, I no longer have the right.”

“And I’m guessing you're here to ask me to become Batman?”

Bruce mumbled a conformation.

“I’m sorry Bruce, but no. I made it clear last time that that was it, the LAST time. I can’t just replace you every time you want me to.”

Bruce glared at Dick.

“I have a family now Bruce! Batman has to big a target on his head! I won’t risk getting shot when Nightwing can do that same thing.”

“Nightwing gets shot too.”

“You know what I mean. Listen, I’ll run around as Nightwing, okay? But not Batman.”

“Sure you will.”

The BatCave - August 24, 2029

Slouched down in the large chair in front of the BatComputer, Dick held the cowl in hand, staring at it, thinking about the last few years of his life. 3 years ago a gang called the Jokerz appeared, taking a over a section of the city and calling it, “Jokerz Town.” As Batman, Dick did everything he could to protect the people inside, but he was only one person, after his Robin died that is.

“Dick! You here!” yelled Tim from the staircase.

“Yah, just waiting for you.”

Dick turned around in his swiveling chair, now facing Tim.

“You know, I’ve been working on some nanotech for my suit. I was thinking that maybe the entire thing could be made of nanites and I could just like, press a button and the suit would build itself around me. Sounds cool, right!”

“Sounds like Iron Man’s suit from Infinity War.”

“I say his suit sounds like mine.”

“His came first.”

“Touche”

Walking over the glass capsules that held each members of the family’s suit, wet steps echoing in the cave, Tim admired the new suit Bruce had constructed for him, displayed in the center capsule. Built from the best WayneTech had to offer, the suit featured nyth-weave, promethium armor plating, several miniature arc-reactors (designed by Tim), and most importantly, air conditioning. The suit was certainly impressive, but Tim was sure he could improve it, maybe even add some nanties!

Wayne Orphanage Gym - August 24, 2029

As much as gyms were known to be sweaty, the one in the Wayne Orphanage had to to an exception. Seriously, the mats placed on the floor were heavy with sweat, every step taken on them making that weird popping and gurgling and wheezing sound. The walls, also covered in mats but not the sweaty kind, had indents were people had been constantly shoved into them. There was a lot of things wrong with that, starting with the fact that kids were slamming each other hard enough to leave permanent indents. Unfortunately, Terry was one of those kids, constantly getting tossed and thrown about by the older orphans during sparring. Walking up to the training dummy, bolted to the ground near the corner of the room, Terry McGinnis took his fighting stance, low to the ground, just like Bruce said.

The dummy swung at Terry with it’s right, only for him to block with his forearm and reply with a uppercut. The health bar on the dummy went down. Unphased by the blow to its head (‘cause it’s a robot), the dummy jabbed at Terry, hitting him squarely in the side. Clenching his teeth, he threw a sloppy punch at the dummy, punished by the robot taking Terry’s arm and twisting it. It’s opponent completly exposed, the dummy headbutted Terry, knocking him hard on the ground.

“When did this dummy get so hard!” complained Terry, pushing his black hair from his sweat soaked face.

From his shadowy corner, Bruce replied, “Since I turned up the difficulty.”

Hobbling towards Terry, leaning heavily on his cane, he helped Terry backup, who had been knocked down from when the training dummy headbutted him.

“Why’d you do that?”

“‘Cause I wanted to get you knocked clean on your ass. You were getting too cocky and as a result, sloppy.”

“Hehehe, that rhymed.”

“Uh uh, go practice your acrobatics.”

The BatCave - August 24, 2029

Walking down the damp stone steps of the spiral staircase, Bruce tried his best not to fall. He should probably get an elevato-, would make things much easier. He reached the base of the staircase and called out to Tim, sitting in front of the BatComputer in his new suit.

“What do you think of the new suit?”

“Pretty good so far, haven’t done much in it though. I was thinking of adding nanites to the suit.”

“Maybe another time. I’m here to give you a update on Terry McGinnis.”

“The nanite technology isn’t close to being finished.”

“Well that’s because I haven't worked on it yet.” said Tim with a small smirk.

“Neither have I. I thought you’d be curious on McGinnis’s progress.”

“For the last time Bruce, I don’t want a Robin, not after what happened to Dick’s. You’re wasting your time on him.”

“You’ve said.”

“Please, stop making him into one. I won’t put his life needlessly in harm's way.”

“Tim, you put your life in harm’s way all the time. You need someone out there to help you out! Think of how many times you saved my life!”

“And think of how many times I almost lost mine! Every time we go out there we’re rolling the dice on whether we die or not!”

Tim sighed.

“Please Bruce, stop making him into something he’s not.”

“Fine, I’ll stop.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll make him into something better, something beyond us.”

“Like what?”

BATMAN BEYOND

Jokerz Town - September 15, 2034

Under the moonlit sky, Tim ran across the rooftops of Jokerz Town, feeling the coarse gravel under his boot clad feet. He was out on his usual patrol there, always trying to help the citizens that were unlucky enough to still be living there, constantly in fear of being of being mugged or raped or shot out of nowhere. Tim heard what sounded like a woman scream from a nearby alley.

Arriving at a dark, narrow alley, full of of grit and grime, Tim perched himself on a nearby ledge and surveyed the scene below. There were two Jokerz grunts trying to mug a women. They were of significant size difference, one large and hairy, muscles coated in a layer of sweat, the other thin and wiry, clothed far more conservatively than his comrade. The women was clutching her purse, knuckles white as she tightly held onto it. Shaking with fear, eyes wide, she swung her purse out at her attackers, but to no avail.

Time for Batman to step in. Loosening his step on the ledge, Tim let himself fall down, making sure to spread his cape wide as he glided down, giving himself the appearance of a bat. Flying at the larger grunt, Tim landed both hands on his shoulders and twisted, spinning him around. Dazed and confused, the grunt never even saw it coming when his legs fell out from under him, head cracking on the pavement as he tumbled down. With blistering speed, Tim took the man by the leg and flung him against the brick wall, knocking a few of the crumbling bricks out their positions, probably having broken his leg as well. The man slumped against the fall, knocked out cold due to the head trauma. Setting his sights on the other, smaller Jokerz grunt, Batman walked towards him, putting on his most menacing stare. The man quivered, panickly taking the women and pressing a knife against her throat.

“I’ll… I’ll kill her!”

Tim narrowed his eyes into thin, white slits.

The grunt pushed the knife closer to the women’s throat.

“You win.” said Tim’s electronic Batman-voice.

Raising his hands, Batman dropped the Batarang he had been holding, the razer sharp blade making a small clank as it hit the ground. He turned around and walked away from the now grinning grunt. Suddenly though, the batarang floated up, a blue circle glowing in its center. Flinging itself at the man with blazing speed and accuracy, the man cried out in pain and his hand was impaled with its razor sharp edge.

“Run.” growled Batman.

“My hero!”

The woman ran up to Tim, blonde hair bouncing up and down. Flinging her arms around Tim, she gazed into the white slits of his cowl, small smile on her face. Tim turned to face her, eyes darting all over her face, examining her features. Shit, her lips. She planted a kiss on Tim, whatever what was on her lips causing him to stagger back, balance lost. Hitting his head on the ground, Tim fell into a deep sleep, successfully having fallen into whatever trap was set for him, though not before he could press his panic button.

Gotham Town Hall - September 15, 2034

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Bursting through the polished glass doors of city hall, several Jokerz grunts, clad in their outlandish clothes and absurd makeup, laughed hysterically as they brandished their weapons at the men and women in the lobby. Not wasting a moment, security guards immediately fell upon the intruders, only to be cut down, entrails spilling out onto the floor. The Jokerz laughed at the gruesome sight before them, the men’s blood spilling out and staining the carpet floors.

Gotham City Police Department - September 15, 2034

“Get down!” shouted Jim Gordon, ducking behind one the overturned desks, gun held closely to his chest.

The place was in tatters, desks were overturned as makeshift cover, there were bullet holes in the walls, and bodies of both sides littered the place. It was a battlefield.

Next to Jim, Renee Montoya sat panting heavily, “Where the hell is Batman!?!”

“Don’t worry, he’ll come!”

Wayne Orphanage Hallway - September 15, 2034

The air was thick with dust and particles of rock from the collapsed ceiling. Trapped underneath the rubble, lying helplessly on his back, Terry panicked as he felt the rock pressing down on him. Growning, he tried to push the debris off him, but to no avail. He looked over at Bruce, who was slumped up against the cracked wall, a piece of the ceiling over his leg.

“Someone help!” panted Terry.

Bruce looked at Terry, “It’s going to be alright!”

“Adults always say that!”

“And when I say it I mean it.”

“Then what do we do!?!”

Terry was starting to cry now, “It hurts, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce furrowed his brow.

“You’re going to have to lift the rock off yourself, McGinnis.”

“It’s heavy!”

“You can do this! You’ve lifted heavier!”

“But, but --”

“God damn it! Just do it!”

Nodding his head and closing his eyes, Terry took a deep breath as he set his hands on the rock. He pushed, muscles straining and spasming as he tried to lift the enormous weight trapping him. Screaming and eyes watering, Terry made the rock budge, the tiny success casting a wide smile on his face and filling him with hope. He threw the debris off himself, standing up and becoming acutely aware of his fractured ribs. Wincing at the pain, Terry helped Bruce’s leg from under the piece of ceiling.

“It’s broken. You’re going to need to help me up the stairs.” said Bruce.

“Why! Shouldn’t we be getting out of here!”

“I need to get you out of here.”

“Great! Totally agree! Let’s go the other way then!”

“Shut up and get us to my study.”

Bruce’s Study - September 15, 2034

A small room surrounded with windows and filled with a plethora of books and technology, Terry helped the broken Bruce Wayne to his study atop Wayne Orphanage. Holding out his old and crooked finger, Bruce pointed at a large computer situated in a corner, it’s screen cracked and keyboard filled with dust. Terry helped Bruce to the computer and easied him into the seat. Cracking his knuckles, Bruce began to type a series of commands into the computer, as he did so, a series of clicking and sliding sounds came from inside the computer. Eventually, Bruce finished whatever he was doing and a small tray popped out from the computer, a small, black ring cushioned on the slide.

“Pick up the ring.”

Terry did as he was told, taking it in his hand and examining the ring. It was small, coated in a glossy black finish with golden lines on either edge of the ring. There was a rather unique feature though. The symbol of a bat was engraved into the ring, outlined in gold.

“Why is there a bat on this ring? Some kind of family crest or something?”

“You could say that.”

“What kind of family has a bat as their symbol.”

“The Bat-Family.”

Terry looked puzzled.

“There’s only one Bat-Family I’ve heard of and I’m guessing you’re not one of them.”

“I was.”

Crime Alley - May 18, 2026

Bruce’s head was killing him, all he could see was blurry images and hear a drowned out laughing sound. He was on his knees, the only reason he was able to tell though was because he could feel the gravel digging into them. The images were starting to come back into focus, and Bruce wished they hadn’t. Standing before him was the Joker, wearing his finest purple suit and green tie, a crowbar in his hand.

“If you’re going to beat with that get it over with before I get out of these chains.”

“So har we ar en Crime Alley, dearie! Just you en me en my crowbar! Now et’s about tem we start da show! Bring oot oor first guests!”

From behind a dumpster, one of the Joker’s henchmen brought out a family of three, a father, mother, and a daughter.

“On your knees, dearies,” said the Joker with a kind smile.

The family reluctantly did as he said.

Raising the crowbar high above his head, the Joker slammed it down against the father’s head, a nauseating cracking sound filling the air. Again and again the Joker pummeled the father with his crowbar, bits of blood and bone flying into the air.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The Joker set his sights on the mother, now gripping her child, her knuckles white. She looked up at the green haired man staring at her.

“Please, Max, she’s my daughter! Don’t hurt her!”

“Dearie, I wa only eva gung ta har you. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The Joker beat her savagely with the crowbar, just as he did the father.

“I’m guttin’ bured o’ dis. Bring oot da net goost!” said the Joker, dropping the crowbar at his side, it falling to a ground with a clank next to the mother’s dead body.

Another brutish Joker grunt brought out another family of three, shoving them roughly to their knees. The Joker turned to face them, running his hands through his greasy, wild green hair. He walked towards them with a slight swagger in his step. Gettings down onto his knees, the Joker gave a toothy grin, exposing his crooked yellow teeth, at the small, black haired boy, shaking in his mother’s arms. The Joker shoved a small pistol in the mother’s chest.

“Say you dun’t woont me to hoort your son, dearie.”

The father stood up, puffing out his chest and snarling at the Joker.

“Stand up, Mary. You too, Terry.” said Warren McGinnis.

The Joker stood up, “Prood en da face o’ dunger! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

BANG

Warren McGinnis dropped to the ground, clutching his bleeding chest.

The Joker shoved his gun in Mary’s chest once again, her pearl necklace draping the pistol in an oddly beautiful way.

“Say you dun’t woont me to hoort your son, dearie.”

“Please, don’t hurt my son.”

BANG

The string broke, it’s pearls tumbling to the ground, tracking blood as they rolled.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Uh oh…”

Batman broke out his chains, roaring like an animals as he lunged at the Joker, pinning him to the ground. The two grunts with the Joker moved to defend their employer, only to fall to the ground as several Batarangs entered their chest. Bruce took the Joker by the throat and squeezed.

“Both of you, Wayne Orphanage. Now.”

Max and Terry did as he said, running off into the night.

The Joker was starting to sputter now. Batman let go. It was too soon.

Scowling, Batman picked up the Joker and pinned him against the wall, holding him up by the throat.

“HEHEHEHEHEHE. Why so serious, dearie?” laughed the Joker, his red mouth twisting into a smile.

“What… what…” Batman was lost for words, unable to even articulate what he had just witnessed. His mind failed him.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Bruce began to squeeze again, choking the life out of the clown before him. No, this wasn’t right. Batman doesn’t kill. Bruce loosened his grip once again, letting the Joker’s body slump the ground, quiet, no longer laughing.

Bruce’s Study - September 15, 2034

“So you were Batman.” mumbled Terry.

“What was doesn’t matter right now. You have a mission.”

“Does it have something to do with this ring?”

“Yes. I need you to rescue Batman.”

Terry’s eyes started to bug out of his head.

“Schway.”

The floorboards started to creak, subtle at first, then louder and louder. It sounded like they were banging. Banging!

“McGinnis, someone’s coming!”

“Who?”

A group of Jokerz burst through the old oak doors, shattering them and sending splinters everywhere. Bruce dropped into a fighting stance, his arthritic ridden knees sending bolts of pain through his body.

“McGinnis, out the window now!”

“What no! That’s suicide.”

The Jokerz pointed the guns at the pair. As fast as his old knees would allow, Bruce charged the hostiles before him, crashing down into them and knocking their guns from their grip. The old man pummeled his fists into the one of the grunt’s face, breaking his nose. The man was young though, able to take a whole hell of lot more punishment than Bruce. Slipping a knife out from his belt, the Jokerz grunt punctured Bruce’s side, a stream of blood coming from the wound. Seeing this, Terry jumped into the action, throwing Bruce away from the fight. Terry’s leg cracked against one of the man’s head, the vertigo making him stumble around. Another one came up from behind Terry though and got him with a knife, slashing him across the shoulder. Bruce got back into the action, taking one of the guns from the floor and hitting one of the Jokerz with the butt.

The room started to get hot, beads of sweat rolling down Terry’s brow. In between his ducks, dodges, and weaves, he started to notice the floor boards starting to glow, like the glowing embers of a fire. Terry’s suspicions were confirmed when a wall of fire started to roll up the staircase. Panicking, Terry turned around and ran, leaving Bruce fighting the clown faced crowd.

Flames burst through the old oak doors, sending them flying on top of the Jokerz, pinning them to the ground. Bruce tried to pick the doors up off from one of the Jokerz, but his age failed him.

“McGinnis! Help me!”

It was too late, the flames engulfed him, burning the old man to a crisp. Terry charged at the window, now the only method of escape. Flames nipping at his heels, Terry urged himself to go faster, to not die. Placing his hands in cross in front of his eyes, he leapt out the window, shattering it.

Now plumbing to his death, Terry’s mind raced, scrambling for a solution.

“Come on! Come on!” thought Terry.

Spreading over Terry’s body like a cancer, what felt like mechanical bugs crawled over him. They seemed to be forming themselves into some sort of suit around his body, changing and interlocking in an increasingly intricate pattern. Eventually, a big red bat materialized on Terry’s chest, a cowl with red slits for eyes following suit.

“Well I see you’re falling and have made no motion to save yourself. Either you’re suicidal or your panicking. Panicking seems more likely given the fact that your wearing me.” said an electronic voice chirping in Terry’s ear.

A pair of red wings sprouted from the suit on Terry’s back, instantly catching air and jerking him upwards, saving his from his imminent death.

“I need to find Batman.” said Terry.

“Do you know where he is?” asked the suit.

“No, that’s why I’m asking.”

“I know.”

“Sure you did.”

“Plotting course to Batman now.”

Jokerz Town - September 15, 2034

Flying over the old and worn down buildings of Jokerz Town, Terry, now sporting a nanite Bat-suit, followed the suit’s trace on Batman. Eventually, he was lead to an abandoned factory in the heart of Jokerz Town, definitely somewhere he didn’t want to be. Perching himself on one of the nearby rooftops, Terry examined the factory before him, taking in and trying to memorize every detail.

“You know you can use my sensors to scan the factory and be done much quicker, right?” asked the suit’s AI.

“Uh, yah. Totally.”

“Scanning. The factory has 50 hostile inside. 10 of them are patrolling the hallways, the other 40 are all concentrated in a central room, most likely where they are keeping Batman. I recommend that we use explosives to detonate the roof above the central room.”

“Uh, yah sure, let’s do that.”

Reaching down into one of the red compartments at his side, Terry pulled out a Batarang and got ready to throw it.

“You know you have to set it to explosive, right?”

“Yup, just ah… testing you. How would I do that again?”

“Just think it.”

Once again, Terry went to throw his now explosive Batarang at the roof.

“Shouldn’t you take better positioning?”

“Oh, um, yes.”

Terry flew into a better position, hovering just above the glass roof of the factory.

“They can see you.”

As the suit spoke, a hail of bullets flew up at Terry, threatening to puncture his suit. Reacting on impulse, Terry rocketted down through the skylight, shattering it and raining glass down on his assailants.

Crashing down into the center of the room, everyone paused and looked the nanite suited Batman. The Jokerz grunts held their breath, waiting for someone to make a move.

“Suit, can you kill the lights?”

“Of course.”

The lights went out, leaving only the glow of Batman’s red eyes.

“Night-vision activated.” chirped the suit.

“Time to act like Batman.” mumbled Terry.

Looking around, Terry found a steel beam running across the length of the room. He flew up to it, perching himself high above the cowering crooks.

“I can smell your fear.” said Batman.

The Jokerz started to shake.

“Where is Batman?” yelled Batman.

“We… we don’t know.” said one of the grunts, struggling to speak.

“Yes you do.”

Batman leapt from his perch, landing silently behind the man who just spoke.

“I’m right here.”

Taking the grunt by the head, Batman brought it down and onto his raised knee, a loud crack echoing the room.

The grunt screamed, only furthering his comrades fear.

“Why are none of you laughing? Laugh!” screamed Batman.

A nervous laughter filled the air.

Creeping about, Batman picked them off one by one, a constant and unending phantom in the night. Some of them tried to fight back, maybe hit him with their gun or something, but it didn’t matter. By the time he was done, all of the makeup clad clowns were nothing more than a broken pile of blood and bone splayed across the ground.

“Suit, give me a pinpoint on Batman’s location.”

“Who said I could do that?”

“I mean… I just kinda…”

“He’s one foot underneath the floor of this room.”

“Heat signature.”

“His suit covers that up.”

“Fine, do this the old fashioned way I guess.”

Taking a deep breath, Terry stepped carefully over the bodies of the Jokerz, beginning his search for what he assumed would be some trap door. Searching for what seemed like hours, (though was actually minutes, Terry had a short attention span), Terry came across the outline of what he assumed was a trapdoor underneath a large, wooden crate.

Getting his hands underneath, Terry heaved upwards, making sure to lift with his legs.

Revealing a door below the crate, Terry used his suit to scan it, checking for any traps.

“Nothing, suit.”

Breaking open the trap door, Terry found found Batman tied up in a chair.

“Hey, Batman, it’s me… Batman…”

Wayne Orphanage - September 15, 2034

Standing underneath the bloody sky of Gotham, Terry and Tim looked the at the pile of ashes that was once Wayne Orphanage.

“So the Jokerz burned it to the ground.” asked Tim.

“Yup.”

“And Bruce is dead.”

“I’m sorry, I was scared and--”

“It’s alright I… understand. Just thought I’d never see the old bastard die.” “Same.”

“You know where this leaves us, right?”

“What do you mean.”

“The entire city is destroyed, Terry. I’m going to need help. I’m going to need… a Robin.”

“But I get to keep the suit.”

“No, the suit’s mine.”

“Dang it.”

Epilogue

Gotham City Police Department - September 15, 2034

Batman and Robin, together at last. Flying over the rubble of what was once Gotham City, the pair spotted what remanded the GCPD, landing in front of it. Walking towards the scene, head darting around as they looked at the plethora of ambulances around, Batman came across who they were looking for, though not in the position they expected.

“Jim…” mumbled Tim, frowning when he saw the tarp pulling over Jim’s now cold, dead body.

Coming up behind Batman, Terry, the new Robin, looked Tim and said, “Jim? Like Jim Gordon? The commissioner?”

“Actually that would be me.” growled Renee Montoya, “I see that I’ll be adding reckless child endangerment to the list of charges, Batman.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m coming after you, Batman. The entire department. We. Are. Coming. For. You.”

EDIT: Sorry thing got sloppy at the end. I've just had this for a long time and wanted to get it done.

Cyborg #77 - The Stream of Information

<<| <| >

Author: Commander_Z

Book: Cyborg

Arc: The Streamer

Set: 114

Victor Stone is back in Detroit and he couldn't be happier. But his girlfriend, Donna Morris, told him about a local streamer known as X who streams his heists throughout the city and they watched his latest announcement together. X claimed that S.T.A.R. Labs had a replica of Cyborg's powers and chat voted on him going to steal it, with the catch that he had to announce when he would do it. And Cyborg isn't just going to let him take it...

“Vic, I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but I don’t know anything about this.”

Victor Stone had spent many an afternoon in this conference room or one of the many basically identical ones in S.T.A.R. Labs. The walls were blandly painted light grey, broken up only by the occasional poster of old festivals and concerts held in the city. The bright fluorescent lights did their best to make up for the lack of windows but they were barely enough to make the room feel lived in and not a part of some liminal space.

“But could someone be doing it? I obviously trust you more than some random streamer, but this guy has been very well informed. Couldn’t someone be doing this without you knowing?”

Sarah Charles shook her head. “It’s not impossible, but it’s really unlikely. We have team meetings every month where we go over our budgets and how each of our projects has been going. Everyone at S.T.A.R. with the expertise to do that would be at those meetings and has some other project that’s taking up their time.”

“What about Aldous? Did you know what he was doing?” (See Cyborg 45-47 for that story!)

She shook her head again. “No. But that incident is why we have these meetings. A lot of our more senior members would happily sit in their labs alone and only come out to see their families and get more funding. And we’ve produced some great stuff like that. But we needed to have more oversight and we’ve put procedures in place to get it.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.”

Vic let out a sigh, mostly of relief. He had hoped that S.T.A.R. wasn’t working on replicating his powers without telling him, but couldn’t be sure.

“Any idea why he’d think that you guys were working in that? As far as I know, he’s always stolen what he said he would. It would be weird if he wasn’t at least somewhat sure that it was here.”

“Sorry, but no. If you want my guess, maybe he’s working with someone who does have some copy of your tech and he plans on “stealing” it from us as a way of making you and other people suspicious of S.T.A.R.? Developing weapons would give us a bad reputation, but I don’t really know who would benefit from that.”

“Yeah that’s possible. But I’ll just have to ask him myself when I catch him. He streamed a couple days ago and said that he’d hit S.T.A.R. at 4PM today. That’s 10 minutes from now. He’s not live yet, but I’m ready for him when he is. Only thing is that I’m not sure if he really does these streams live. If he prerecords them and just live streams the footage, we’re out of luck.”

As if on queue, X’s stream started up. He was still on a prestream page, but Sarah pulled it up on her laptop and projected it onto the wall.

After a few more minutes, the stream went live. The screen was still dark and an engine quietly hummed in the background. X spoke softly, his synthesized voice just louder than the motor.

“What’s up everyone, thanks for tuning in. I’m just about ready to start the heist, so get comfy folks. This is going to be a long one…”

“Do you know if S.T.A.R. is expecting any deliveries? It sounds like he’s in the back of some truck, maybe in a trunk?”

Sarah thought for a moment. “No. Most of the stuff we get for our research either shows up early in the morning or late at night.”

A few seconds later, realization flashed across her face. “Oh, but there’s a stakeholder meeting tonight for one of our bigger projects. They’re bringing in catering for it, so maybe he’s in the van for that?”

“That’d make sense. He could easily disguise himself as one of the caterers and slip away, especially since most people are gone for the day. Not many people left to catch him as he wanders the halls.”

X continued to prattle onwards in the dark space as Vic and Sarah ran out of the room towards the office’s loading docs. They had no idea how much time they had until the van arrived and once he got into the building, that was it. They’d have to rely on tracking him through the stream and hoping they could glean enough details from it to figure out where he was. No, it was either now or nothing.

Their feet rang out on the tile as they traversed the long, straight corridors. A handful of researchers peered out of their doors at the commotion, but Vic and Sarah kept running. There was no time. As they started to approach the loading bay, they could hear the old metal garage door creak as it opened, only to be drowned out by the dull humming of the van’s engine. Then, finally, silence, as the engine sputtered to a halt. They had just made it.

The two people in the front of the van stepped out and started towards the back to unload the van. Once they opened the back door, the side door quietly slid open and a figure dressed in a black hoodie and joggers snuck out. His face was obscured by a motorcycle helmet but unlike the high tech one that he used on stream that had a screen for a face, this one was just a normal helmet. A small athletic camera was attached right above the visor that he was using to live stream.

He stood up and smoothed out his clothes before walking calmly into the office building, right past Vic and Sarah, who were “hiding” on either side of the door frame. Sarah crept back into the loading bay to give the caterers a heads up about the fight that was about to happen while Vic announced himself.

“Hey, X, turn off the camera. You don’t need to stream what’s coming next.” Cyborg said to him.

X turned around and while Vic couldn’t see his face, Vic could feel that he was smirking under the mask.

“Oh, no, Cyborg. This is the best part! No one likes a plan that goes off without some tension, right chat?”

“There’s tension and then there’s embarrassment. I’ve stopped far more dangerous people than you. Just stop now and save us both the trouble.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think this will be as easy as you thought. See, I’ve got a little confession to make. Sorry about this one, chat. But there never were replica Cyborg parts here. No, I’m here for something else. But what I really wanted to do was bring Cyborg here. These last couple heists have been so easy, it’s become boring. And I knew you’d hear about this and have to check out whatever S.T.A.R. had come up with. Which means instant, narrative tension. So, really chat, you should be thanking me. I’ve made this show way more interesting.”

Cyborg shook his head. “Okay, but, again. You’re not getting past me unless I’m really underestimating you.”

“But you are! I’ve studied every one of your fights I could get my hands on footage from. Which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot, but it was plenty. I know how you think, what you can and can’t do…. And I’ve solved you. Anything you do, I can counter. So come on! Bring it! In other words, en garde!”

‘Huh. En garde? Who says that? Who is this guy?’

X took up a boxing stance, his hands wrapped tightly into fists. His right foot and arm forwards, but both arms raised, ready to block. It was hard to get a read on his build through the baggy clothes, but he stood around six inches shorter than Vic and did not seem particularly athletic. X had some idea of what he was doing, but Cyborg was not impressed.

There were only about 10 feet between the two men, but in an instant, there were zero. Cyborg quickly fired two weak force blasts at X’s forearms and their sting caused him to drop his guard in pain. Cyborg didn’t waste a second and rushed him. And with a single punch to the center of his chest, X was sent tumbling to the ground.

The fight was over as soon as it started.

Vic grabbed the helmet camera and turned it off.

“Wait, you can’t do that. Defeats are just as exciting as wins, even more so! Chat’ll want to see all of -”

Vic pulled off the motorcycle helmet and as soon as he did, X’s voice stopped. Vic heard a small mechanical click and a puff of smoke went up in the air from some internal circuitry. But that wasn’t the strangest part. No, the strangest part was that he recognized the face under the helmet. It had been years and he looked a bit older, but he was certain that it was him.

His face was soft and mousy with a bit more of the hardness of age and his hair was matted down from the helmet, but there was no mistaking him. Xenephon Clark - Exxy.

‘It’s been what… since the Crimson Avenger? (Allll the way back in Cyborg 17!) I was still in high school the last time we spoke. I kept meaning to reach out but… well, time happened I guess.’

“Exxy? Is that you?”

Exxy blinked a couple times, his eyes coming back into focus. “Cyborg? Been awhile, huh? Wait, why am I on the ground?”

He looked around, realizing where he was. Or rather, where he wasn’t.

“Actually, where even are we?”

Vic frowned. None of this was what he was expecting. “Exxy, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Uh…” He frowned, unsure. “It’s kinda foggy. I think I remember starting up the stream but I don’t really know. Everything after like… May is just one big blur.”

“So you can’t remember anything from the past six months or so?” Vic helped Exxy to his feet but eyed the helmet on the ground. He’d wait a bit to bring that up. X wasn’t any real threat to him and Exxy certainly wasn’t. For now, he just needed to make sure he was okay.

“No. Well, yeah. I remember some of it. But it’s like… watching a movie late at night. You remember some of it but it’s not like you were doing it and you weren't really paying attention so it’s just… kind of there. But not really.”

Exxy leaned against the wall and rubbed his forehead.

“How do you feel aside from that? Sorry for punching you.”

“Sore, small headache. But aside from that, fine. Just kind of confused at all this. Do you have any idea what happened, Vic?”

“Maybe. But honestly I’m not sure. Does the name ‘X’ mean anything to you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s the name of my channel. Why?”

“Well, someone that’s apparently not exactly you, has been streaming on that channel. They do this sort of “interactive heist” and steal things that chat votes on with some restrictions that they also vote on. You’re here to rob S.T.A.R. Labs and baited me here to make the heist more interesting. But I stopped you and well, here you are.”

“Huh. That’s… new. My channel was just me gaming and talking about whatever was going on in my life that week. No heists. My channel was never that popular but it was pretty tight knit. Actually, huh.That reminds me. One day I got a message from a company that wanted to sponsor me. I got into motorcycles after high school and I’d talk about them a lot on stream. So they gave me one of their helmets to wear and show off. I remember putting it on and after that… it gets foggy.”

Vic picked up the helmet from the ground. “Guessing it looked like this?”

“Yeah, that’s probably it? Not sure.”

Vic flipped it over and looked around for whatever could’ve made that spark, but the inside of the helmet looked just like any other helmet.

“You wore a different helmet on stream. Guessing that came from them too?”

Exxy shrugged. “Probably. I only got sent one as far as I remember.”

"Where'd you stream from? Your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare bedroom I used for it. Unless I moved somewhere else in the past couple months which I guess isn’t impossible… but my stuff is probably all still there. Hey, how big were those streams? Did that other me at least grow the channel?”

Vic blinked. It had been awhile since they talked but Exxy was still Exxy. “Uh yeah. The couple streams I saw had like ten thousand people at them. How big were your streams?”

“Five hundred on a good day? That’s some serious growth. Wonder if my new viewers will like my Alliance of Allies gameplay…”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sure they will. Hey, can we go check out your apartment? I want to see that helmet.”

“Oh, sure, yeah. Ready when you are.”

“Okay, head out front; I’ll meet you there. I just need to talk to someone real quick.”

Exxy took a couple steps then turned back to Vic. “Uh… Vic, where’s the exit?”

Vic started to explain, but then stopped. “Honestly, this place is kind of a maze. I’ll be right back and just follow me out.”

Exxy nodded and Vic walked into the loading bay to check on Sarah and the caterers. She was sitting with them in the back of the van, chatting about Sunday night’s football game. Vic knocked on the van’s door to get their attention.

“Hey Sarah. I stopped X, turns out he was… I dunno, possessed or something? Not sure. But anyway, nothing was stolen at least.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Possessed? That’s… strange.”

“Yeah. I don’t really know what happened either, but I know… or knew, the guy under the mask. And the guy I knew wouldn’t do this. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt for now as we look into this, but I want you to get someone to look at the helmet. There was some sort of circuitry in it that broke itself when I took it off him, might have a lead.”

“I’ll see what we can do.”

Vic tossed her the helmet. “Thanks, Sarah. Let me know what you find and I’ll keep you in the loop too.”

He turned around and walked back to Exxy. “Alright, let’s go.”

⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙ ⚙

Exxy’s apartment was a mess. The door’s lock was broken, forced open from the outside and the place was torn apart. It was like someone walked through the entire apartment with a leaf blower. Couch cushions, plates and papers were strewn about at random, like someone was searching for something. Exxy stepped into his office and came out empty handed.

“They took the helmet, but nothing else as far as I can tell. If someone was robbing me, they’d have taken my computer at least.”

“Huh… that’s strange.”

Vic followed him into the office and saw the surprisingly bare set up. It was little more than a simple, cheap wooden desk and an office chair with a green screen behind it. Except for the top of the line computer and monitors, it wasn’t that different from his desk in college.

With the room as bare as it was, there was nowhere that he could’ve hidden the helmet. This was clearly where he streamed and if it was ever in here, it was gone.

“Well, I’m going to need to look into this, and you’re going to need a place to stay. Want to crash with me while you get… all this figured out?”

Exxy let out a sigh of relief. “I was hoping you’d ask. For sure. Just let me grab a bag and pack up my desk set up. I can’t leave that here and I’ve got A LOT to catch up on.”

“Uh, sure. Take your time.”

‘One thing’s for sure. Exxy is still Exxy and that’s got to be worth something in all this. Right?’

<<| <| >

Author: FrostFireFive

<< | < | > | >>

Book: New Titans

Arc: Time Out

Set: 96

“Roy?” Wally West asked freed from the machine Slade Wilson had tied him to.  It had only been a few hours, but Kid Flash felt that he had been awake for three days.  The Flashes had made a mistake, traveling back into the speed force had given Hunter Zolomon a chance to rewrite history, and now, they were all paying for it.  

“Did you expect Superman?” Arsenal said as he looked around at the machinery.  He had overheard some of Deathstroke’s ramblings.  Time travel, lost family, and the fact that whoever this guy was could be the key to making something better.  “Pretty sure he’s dealing with the Amazons or Atlanteans.  I can never get that one right,” Arsenal explained.

“I didn’t expect you,” Wally asked as he looked around the complex.  What is this place?”

“Ou-his home,” Arsenal explained.  “We call it Castle.  When the Wildebeests unleashed the Plasmus bomb, this place became a quarentine zone.  With Saphire’s help the old man was able to clean up the area and convince the city we deserved to have this.  To watch over them.”

“Plasmus bomb? Sapphire? Where’s Rex?” Kid Flash asked. 

“He was the bomb,” Arsenal explained as he moved to his arm’s built-in computer, pulling up a virtual read of the schematics for the Castle’s prison floors.  Slade had ensured  there would be a labyrinth of false exits and hidden labs.  He needed fresh bodies to test the latest weapon, no matter what the cost.  “He tried finding a cure for Sapphire after she pushed him out of the way on that machine they developed.  Her brother used him to cause a total meltdown.”

“Oh god,” Kid Flash said as he slumped to the ground, he could still feel his connection to the speed force, even if it was a bit weaker due to Slade’s machine.  “That’s not how that went, that’s not how any of this went.”

“You keep saying that without any proof, Sspeedy,” Arsenal responded as he planned a quiet path for them to take.  He knew that the moment he began hacking through the system, Red X would know, she always knew. “You could be another of Slade's projects that got loose.”

“I’m not some…lost project,” Kid Flash responded as he looked at the unconscious Slade still on the floor.  In a blur he had managed to pick up the man and tie him to his own machine.  Wally hoped he would stay put in there.  “In this other timeline…you and I are friends.  We’re a part of the Titans, not the Ravagers.  We’ve been through hell together.  We fought the Wildebeests and won.  And I think I’m the only one to babysit your daughter.  Well, besides JIm.”

“You’re talking nonsense.  I have no family, not after Brick sent me a message after finding out I was working for Slade.  I’m the last Harper.  I’m all alone,” Arsenal explained as he looked away from the speedster. 

“It doesn’t have to be that way, I’m here.  And I can tell you, when we set things right…you won’t be alone.  But you have to trust me,” Kid Flash explained.  “And I know that sounds crazy, that everything seems right, but deep down…something’s missing right?”

Arsenal took a moment before the prison doors swung open around them. With metahuman prisoners seeing the sun for the first time in years, the chaos would perfectly cover the two heroes.

“You had me at nonsense,” Arsenal explained. “So what do you need from me?”

“How do you feel about breaking into the main databases?” Kid Flash explained.

…

Red X stood alone in her room, it was close to the top of Castle.  A beautiful view of the city could be seen.  The city was recovering, with trees and new buildings being erected.  But Red X never bothered to look outside.  She had to ensure  that what had happened in Chicago would never happen again.  And as the cables drifted down to back at the base of her neck, she prepared to drift along the internet. Looking for the threats that may or may not come.

But before being uplinked, she could hear the soft footsteps of someone who found himself more comfortable in the air than dealing with people on the ground.

“What do you want Dreadwing,” Rex X asked as Dick Grayson entered her room.  They were Slade’s longest wards.  Taken from the Gotham sewers and trained together to be the best, to protect the world at any cost.  Jas…Rook, had to be tossed aside when his incompetence had damaged Barbara.  And the cause for her obsession with perfection.

“To see how you’re doing,” Dreadwing began.  “A lot of the team is shaken up by this…speedster.  Element Girl hasn’t been able to keep her shape, Arsenal is brooding more than usual, and Mammoth is Mammoth.  Only cares if the check doesn’t clear.”

It’s his greatest strength,” Red X said.  “And what of you,Dreadwing?”

 “I believe in the mission.  But…he seemed so certain of a world that couldn’t have existed,” Dreadwing said with a hint of doubt.

“And would you want that world?” Red X asked. 

“No clue,” Dreadwing said.  “I mean, the way he talked about us.  It seemed different, hopeful even.”

“Hopeful,” Red X said, her voice distorted from her helm.  “We are hope.  We protect those that need protecting and punish the guilty.”

“I know we do, but how much of our souls…our bodies do we need to sacrifice,” Dreadwing said as he moved closer, his hand holding hers.  

“As much as we need to,” Red X explained as she pulled away. “That’s what Deathstroke taught us.”

“Tell me that without the helmet,” Dreadwing said as he pulled down his mask, revealing the shaggy hair of Dick Grayson

“You don’t want to see that, no one does,” Red X explained. 

“I do.  I want to see my friend again,” Dreadwing responded. 

Red X looked down for a minute before touching the back of her helmet.  The mechanical aspects wheezed  to life as it slowly peeled off, revealing the face of Barbara Gordon.  Her green eyes shined, contrasting against the bits of tech grafted to her face.  She had been paralyzed, nearly blinded, and maimed.  But every time, Barbara Gordon would sacrifice a piece of herself for the greater good. 

“I know you don’t like staring at me, I know you think I’m…some monster.  But I have to do it, I have to protect everyone.  No should get hurt.”

“Oh Babs,” Dreadwing said as he pulled her closer.  “Maybe we were wrong.  Maybe…there is a better way.  Maybe…”

The entirety of Castle glowed red as a loud siren blared through its walls.

“Warning! Prisoner Release! Warning Prisoner Release!” The electronic voice called out.

“Maybe we have work to do,” Red X explained as she restored her helment, and ran into the fray.  There was no time to think just how little of her soul was left.

…

“So what the hell are you looking for exactly!” Arsenal said as he slammed his mechanical arm against one of the escaped  prisoner’s collarbone.  The crack was loud and satisfying to him.  Slade had always taught when you hit, you hit hard and you hit fast.

“Information I guess,” Kid Flash said as he zipped around, pushing forward with Arsenal.  “We need to find out where this…Flash is and any other changes that were made.  And then…hopefully find my family.”

“Oh so I don’t count,” Arsenal said as his arm turned into a blaster and sent several prisoners flying back into their cells.  The two had made quick work of the riot, but Roy knew two things.  One, that the supermax area was next and two, the others didn’t necessarily believe in a better world like Roy did, and would come for them.  “Nice to see we’re so close.”

“It’s not that,” Kid Flash explained as he unleashed a flurry of punches towards one of the goons before him. “I’m kinda part of two groups.  Where I come from the Flash, the real Flash isn’t alone. You can kinda say I’m part of two families.  Just hard to split time.”

“You’re telling me the fastest man alive struggles to balance his time? Now that’s comforting,” Arsenal explained.  As the two continued to fight a rumbling could be heard as several of the Castle’s guards were thrown past the two heroes.  “What was that?”

“Judging by the concrete dust on them?” Kid Flash explained, proud that listening to Barry had been paying off. “My fellow prisoner.”

“Arsenal! You’re going to pay for imprisoning me!” Cinderblock roared as he charged towards the two heroes. 

“Shit! Going to need the big one for this one!” Arsenal yelled as he got onto one knee and held  his arm.  The metal and servos move  to become a giant cannon.  The energy slowly charged up as Roy closed his eyes and prepared to fire.  Until the whizzing of a certain speedster blocked both of them.

“Whoa, whoa!” Kid Flash said. “We do not need to be enemies here.”

“He imprisoned me, and you beat me up,” Cinderblow said with his usual growl.

“Yeah well where I come from you’ve given me some nasty bruises,” Kid Flash explained.  “But if this day has taught me anything, it is that I can’t play by the rules I do at home.  Help us, and we’ll help you.”

“Help him?” Arsenal said as the blaster slowly became an arm again. “He’s a criminal.”

“And you’re a fascist who locked me up without getting a trial first,” Cinderblock explained.

“And together we can handle whatever comes our way, we just need to trust each other, just until we get out of here, and I can make things right,” Kid Flash explained.  “Can we do that?”

Cinderblock and Arsenal both looked at each other. 

“Fine,” They both muttered.

“Good, because we got to world to fix,” Kid Flash muttered before the three raced off, deeper into the castle, unaware of the secrets Slade had been hiding from all.

…

Slade Wilson slowly woke up as he dangled from above the machine where he had imprisoned the speedster.  He didn't think the speedster's false promises would get to one of his soldiers.  He had trained them, molded them, and provided them with order and a code.  Instead, Arsenal had listened to a false prophet.  He would have to pay for that  as soon as Slade escaped from the machine. 

The red lights flashing from the intruders releasing the prisoners overwhelmed his senses.  The experiments the government had done to him had made him a peak specimen, but came with drawbacks too. His senses could be overwhelmed, he felt every ache and scar that riddled his body, But his memory was perfect.  And as he stood there , hung by the machines above, he replayed one night in his head repeatedly over.

Joey’s throat, Grant’s failed attempt to fire, Adeline holding both their sons’ cold pale bodies in her hands.  All because Deathstroke had taken a job for the wrong people.  HIVE had wanted a better tomorrow for their demon lord.  Slade spent the next two decades killing, maiming, and crippling the HIVE with his soldiers, his personall designed Ravagers. 

Slowly he began moving his arms and legs from their restraints.  He could feel the tubes and the needles covering him.  It was meant to drain this interloper; instead, Slade could feel the pain again. But he could feel a crackle, a connection to something more.  His movements grew faster as the tubes and restraints fell to the ground as Slade Wilson landed swiftly on his feet. 

Everything had become slower…as it dawned on him that his little science project had actually worked.  Not enough to finish the mission, but enough to get that damn yellow and red blur back.

Slade Wilson picked the black and white helm that stood on the lab’s workbench as it clicked into place, lightning crackled in his eye.  Deathstroke was one step closer to finishing the mission.

…

“When you said we were facing high security guys I thought they’d be tougher,” Cinderblock yelled as he slammed one of the more brutish prisoners to the ground hard. The three had made their way through the bowels of the Castle.  With Kid Flash sending guards and prisoners to his two “teammates”.  He hated to be beating up guards, but there was no other choice.  The mission had to come first.  Even if compromises had to be made.  Arsenal and Cinderblock had a ruthless efficiency that the speedster wasn’t so sure of. 

“Well we usually kill the tougher ones,” Arsenal responded as he shot electric blasts from his arm.  “Slade says it's simpler.”

“Simpler isn’t always easy,” Kid Flash explained, zipping around and accessing every computer terminal he could to find any information the speedsters could use to make right,  It seemed when they all mucked around in the speed force  they had acted like a bullet, shattering time and forcing it to repair itself.  Lara, Clark’s mother, had made it to Earth, Bruce Wayne had been dead for years, Kara was with Aquaman, And Vic Stone was a high-ranking  secret agent.  It was all wrong, and deep down in the Castle basement, Wally doubted  that they could even fix it.

“No, but it gets us through the day,” Cinderblock explained as he sent a few of the guards into cells.  He wasn’t as ruthless as Arsenal, showing a care Wally would have never considered back in his timeline. “Simple makes people think there’s good and evil.  And that in order to do the most good you have to extinguish any sign of evil.”

“Pretty philosophical for a guy who’s just a bunch of sentient cinder blocks,” Arsenal responded as he looked around, a large door separated them from the mainframe.".  Slade had always ensured  this was the most protected section of the base, to him, information was the only way to be prepared for anything.  To Arsenal, it was just another blockade in their quest.  Quickly he plugged into the door and began hacking it open.

“You do a lot of thinking when you’re not exactly human anymore,” Cinderblock explained. “Feeling a cold beer in your mouth on a hot summer day. You’d turn to crime if you couldn’t feel any of that.  And know there’s no one to blame but yourself.”

“Sometimes bad things just happen,” Kid Flash explained as he slowed down.  It was something he learned to do with the Titans.  Being a speedster meant wanting to do everything at once and could do it.  It meant other people felt slower than  Wally, and in his earlier years, he would haveignored them.  His friends had taught him differently.  “What matters is that we don’t wallow in it.  We’re heroes, we fight for the greater good, even if it means we lose.  We’re Titans.  It comes with the job.”

“Titans huh,” Cinderblock said as he looked around.  “I like that. Sounds…heroic.”

“Yeah, well it’s just a name, it’s what you do that matters,” Arsenal said as he finished the touches on his hack.  It wasn’t elegant, but it would get them in.  “And let me tell you Cinderblock, this world got no heroes. Just people making the wrong choice.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Kid Flash responded.

“A broken world can’t repair itself when its core is rotten.  It’s why we’re sending you away once you get that data,” Arsenal explained. “Maybe clean all the blood from our hands.”

“I can only try,” Kid Flash muttered as the door to the mainframe slid open. “Now lets see if we can find something to turn back the clocks.”

Kid Flash moved to access the large computer amidst the data banks.  Slade had kept several key project notes.  Some were boring, such as materials for a new sword.  But others proved more fruitful.  The obsession with fixing things had led Slade to try and study and track this timeline’s only Flash.

“So Hunter disappears from time to time, no traces, and no signs on Earth,” he mumbled as he looked at the energy readings.  Slade didn’t understand exactly what he was tracking, but Kid Flash immediately knew.  “He’s in the speed force, of course.  No one can bug him, and if he screws up…he can try and change more.”

Kid Flash began to move away from the console and turned to his allies, but before Wally could respond, metal hands rose from the ground and flung him to the floor.  The hands climbed out from the floor as Sapphire Stagg’s form appeared. 

“You know…you shouldn’t have broken out, Slade was going to go easy on you,” Element Woman explained. 

“Yeah, by making me a lab rat to try and make things better for himself,” Kid Flash responded. 

“That’s…that’s how science works,” Element Woman stuttered. 

“Mad science,” Cinderblock said as he charged into Element Woman, sending her flying back and freeing the speedster.  “I swear that’s all you nutjobs love to do.  I mean look at you, princess.”

“It was an accident!” Element Woman said as she leapt into the air, her arms turning into acid. 

“Uh huh,” Arsenal said as he prepared his arm into its sonic cannon formation.  “I saw the footage, Princess.  You experimented on yourself and managed to get your boyfriend and brother killed.  You act ditzy, but you’re just as bad as all of us.”

He popped up and sent a sonic wave at the elemental powerhouse.  As it hit, it ruptured her concentration, sending her toward the ground in a blobby mess.

“Roy!” Kid Flash yelled out.

“Relax, Sspeedy,” Arsenal said.  “She’s not dead but she can’t reform for a bit.”

“Cold,” Cinderblock said.  “You know Arsenal, you’d make a go-”

CRASH!

Mammoth broke down the walls and slammed Cinderblock to the ground.  Before Arsenal and Kid Flash could help their ally, shurikens in the shape of a red x rained down as Dreadwing and Red X entered. 

“Traitor!” Red X yelled as her fist slammed against Arsenal’s head.  “You didn’t think I wouldn’t know when someone hacked into my systems.  Or that you freed the prisoner!”

“Oh I knew Babsie,” Arsenal said.  “I was just hoping you’d show up so I can kick your ass.” 

“I always knew you were weak Harper.  Unfaithful to the mission.  Still angry I cut off your arm because you tried going back to…what was her name again? Jade?” Red X said.  “The mission always comes first.”

“Yeah, well I got a new mission,” Arsenal explained as he punched Red X in the gut as the two faced off exchanging blows and strikes, matched by their cybernetics, and hatred for each other. As the two continued to fight.  Kid Flash was left face-to-face with Dreadwing.

“Dick, we don’t have to do this,” Kid Flash explained.  

“I think we do, Prisoner.  Slade needs you, that’s good enough for me,” Dreadwing responded.

“The Dick Grayson I knew was many things, but a bootlicker?” Kid Flash said.  “Whatever happened to you here, you have to realize Slade is not the person you should be following.”

“He took me in, he took all of us in,” Dreadwing explained. “He saved my family.”

“Yeah, well looking at his files I saw what he did to Jason.  And I know why he gathered you all.  He’s using you Dick.  Using all of you so he could go back and damage things more.  You’ve got to let me go.  I can make things right.”

“Right?” Dreadwing asked. “You keep telling people our world is a dream, but this is all I’ve known.  What right do you have to tell me this is wrong.”

“Because deep down, you know it is too,” Kid Flash explained.  “Dick.  Where I’m from you lead the Titans, you wear the colors of your parents.  You fly.  But I can’t give that back to you unless you let me go.”

Dreadwing paused momentarily  before looking up at the speedster in front of him.  The yellows and reds of his costume stood out in the dull greys and blacks that made up the metal walls of Castle. As much as they claimed they were heroes, Dick and the rest of the Ravagers had blood on their hands. And if there was a better world…why wouldn’t he fight for it?

“I have you Harper!” Red X said as she grabbed the hero by the collar of his tunic, lifting him in the air with her increased strength. “And now you d-”

KZZZT

The EMP Dreadwing tossed onto Red X paralyzed her and sent her to the floor.

“Dick…why,” Red X asked as fell to the floor.

He looked away, for so long he denied just how far the woman he loved had gone for their mission.  

“Because we have a chance for a better tomorrow,” Dreadwing responded.

“Holy shit Grayson, you fr-” Arsenal began.

“I don’t care.  What matters is we need to get Kid Flash out of here,” Dreadwing said as he began to move to the terminal.

“Yeah, we need to figure out how to make things better, and he’s the only way to do it,” Arsenal said. “Glad you’re finally on the right si-”

Slade Wilson’s blade went through Arsenal’s chest as the last bit of the speed he had stolen from Wally faded away.  

“I am the right side,” Slade explained as he dropped Arsenal to the floor.

“NO!” Kid Flash yelled as he grabbed the Arsenal from the floor.  Dreadwing ran to fight Slade.  But it didn’t matter to the speedster. He had failed in saving his friends.  Rex was dead, Barbara a monster, and who knows what other changes he would have to face. He had failed the world,  and he didn’t know how he was going to continue on.

“It’s not that bad,” Arsenal mumbled.  “Besides, you’re going to fix everything.”

“You don’t know that,” Kid Flash said.

“I do,” Arsenal said. “You’re what’s been missing from this world. Heroes.  And for a brief moment…you reminded me what they’re supposed to be.  I…had…hope.  Now…go…fix the world.” 

As he cried Wally knew that with his last breath Roy was right.  He had the information he needed, and the more he stayed here the more he risked fixing what they had broken.  It was time to run, time to save the world as ran out of the castle, past the new Ravagers, and into the world once more.

…

Wally West ran quickly from the Castle, far away from the death of a friend in another time, in another world.  He knew where the others were, he knew the details he needed, but he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

The past year had taught Wally what gift he had found when the lightning hit and the world slowed down for him.  He had nothing, just a brother that could not love him like he needed, and a harsh world that seemingly put down the dreamers.  But his Aunt Iris, his Uncle Barry, they offered him a better way, a better life. 

He had found friends, first with the Titans.  And while his tenure was never as perfect as he would have liked, he couldn’t say it broke him.  From Donna to Rex to Roy…to even Dick, his friends were there for him.  And when they weren’t he had built something new with Frances and then Hartley.

He had found love, and while he didn’t know the future, he couldn’t live in a world where none of that was found.  As he ran the lightning crackled around him and tatters of his the yellows and reds of Kid Flash.  It was dumb name, but one that protected Wally from thinking that he was worthy, worthy of the title and legacy his uncle had started and would be happy to share.

With each step pushing him forward the lightning engulfed Wally West once more.  Unlike the journey into the speed force that led him to this broken world, it was comforting.  As if something was calling him home.  Wally West could no longer afford to be afraid, to feel like he didn’t belong. And as the lightning faded away, the tattered costume was gone, and metallic red and gold shined brightly as Wally headed to meet his family, to make things right. 

Wally West is the Flash, and damn anyone who gets in his way of putting everything right…one last time.

NEXT: Read Flash for Stunning Conclusion to Time Out! And Be Back Here on the 15th as We See a Day in the Life of the Titans!

Cyborg #59 - Test of Strength

<<| <| >

Author: Commander_Z

Book: Cyborg

Arc: Machine Mayhem

Set: 96

Previously:

Victor Stone, Donna Morris and Keiji Otari worked together to create a robot called Atlas to participate in the collegiate Machine Mayhem tournament, a robot fighting competition. The humanoid robot easily crushed its competition in the first round but disappeared overnight before the second round. His three creators split up to track him down, with Keiji finding the machine in a back alley a little ways away from the stadium...

Keiji stood before the massive figure, blinking, trying to focus his mind. He had had many late nights and early mornings over the past couple weeks, so Keiji figured he was still sleeping. Or hallucinating. Or both, somehow. But, the voice rang out, its clearest yet, “No.” ‘Clear’ was a very generous and relative term, though. The noise wasn’t modulating through a speaker or a voice box, instead Atlas was making his own speaker by vibrating the motors and joints that allowed him to move.

The alley that Keiji found Atlas in was less than an ideal to make changes to a robot, but Keiji figured that Atlas would be understanding considering the circumstances. He pulled out an old bluetooth speaker out of his backpack and gestured towards Atlas with it.

“This’ll help you. No more grinding gears to talk. Just got to trust me for a few minutes, okay?”

Atlas stood still for a few moments, whether he was thinking or just unsure how to make a positive affirmation with his joints, Keiji couldn’t know. But, after awhile, he responded.

“Yes.”

Keiji set his backpack on the ground in the gross alley, making a mental note that he’d have to clean that later and got to work.

Around ten minutes later, he was done.

“Okay, Atlas. Try to use the speaker. It’s connected to RO23 on the tertiary control board.”

“...T…Te….ing…Test…Testing. Speaker operation confirmed.” Atlas spoke in a deep, synthetic voice that occasionally warped itself in tone, like how a whammy bar would add vibrato to a chord on a guitar.

“Great. So… Atlas… What's going on with you? Why’d you leave?”

“I am performing my task: defeat opponents, become the strongest. No foes in that arena were a challenge. Therefore, I left.”

Keiji raised an eyebrow. “That’s… not what we made you for. We made you to win Machine Mayhem, not to pursue strength as some sort of goal in of itself.”

“Incorrect. Nowhere in programming was “winning the Machine Mayhem tournament” a specified goal.”

“Okay, but I programmed you, and I’m telling you that was the intention.”

“Intentions are irrelevant. A teacher may shape their students’ minds, but they cannot determine what anyone does with their knowledge. That is a privilege reserved for each and every individual being. You say I was programmed to win a tournament. I say that I was programmed to make myself the strongest being. Only my interpretation is relevant.”

‘I guess that’s not an invalid interpretation of what I programmed him to do. But… that’s not exactly a sane or safe perspective on life…’

“And how are you doing that? Just fighting anyone you can see?”

“No. I have already stated that I found those machines in that arena unworthy of my efforts, in my short time in the outside world I have seen humans to be much the same. Few of you would pose any challenge.”

“Well, that’s a little more reassuring that you won’t just be fighting everyone you see. But - ”

Suddenly, a woman about Keiji’s age flew into the alleyway, riding on a metallic pink hoverboard. She wore hot pink combat boots with dark black leggings, and a matching hot pink sleeveless top with thick metallic bands around her wrists that went up to her forearms. Her eyes were obscured by a visor-like pair of glasses, tinted a reflective red to hide her identity.

And yet, Keiji knew instantly that she had to be Donna Morris. He knew that she had been working on some other project with Vic before they started Atlas, but he figured it was just for some shared class or lab work. But this… This was unexpected.

“Halt… robot! Step away from the civilian and no one needs to get hurt!”

‘Why’s she speaking so formally? Guess it’s some mindset thing.’

Neither Atlas nor Keiji reacted to what Donna was saying. Keiji knew she wasn’t talking to him, and Atlas just seemed indifferent to her presence. Finally, Atlas turned and faced her.

“You seem powerful. Show me the strength of your will and I may concede.”

“This doesn’t need to be violent. We can talk it out, here or somewhere else.”

“Actions speak louder and truer than words.” Atlas moved into a combat position, leaning forwards on his left leg, raising his fists up to his chest.

“Come.”

“Don- ”

“When I’m in the suit, it’s Black Narcissus. Some of us like to keep our identities secret, no offense to Cyborg, wherever he is.” Donna said.

“Okay, nice to meet you, Black Narcissus. Just… be careful with Atlas. He’s stronger than he looks.”

Donna smiled. “So am I. Just watch.”

Donna pressed her thumb and index finger together on both hands and a large light on the back of her hands turned gray. She pointed her hands right at Atlas, who still stood in his combat position, waiting.

A thick, gray fluid shot out of her gauntlets, ensnaring Atlas’ arms to his body and his legs to the ground.

“Gotcha! That’s industrial strength adhesive - ”

Atlas flexed his arms and the adhesive snapped with ease, then crouched his legs before springing upwards towards Black Narcissus and her hoverboard. She quickly flew out of the way but Atlas managed to barely get one hand on the board. Black Narcissus pressed her thumbs to her middle fingers, changing the cartridge in her gauntlets. The light on the back changed to purple and she fired her gauntlets again, launching a blast of energy at Atlas.

The extra energy rattled the robot’s circuits, and he released his grip on the board to escape further damage, sending him crashing back to the ground. She shot another salvo of energy blasts at the machine, keeping him stunned on the ground.

She switched her left gauntlet back to adhesive, hoping that it would be able to restrain a weakened Atlas. Before it could reach him, the robot rolled out of the way and grabbed a trash can, hurling it at Donna. She swerved out of the way again, then dodged a second trash can thrown as a follow up.

After the second can, she was on her toes, prepared for a third, but it didn’t come. She looked around, trying to find where Atlas went, but he was completely out of sight. She sensed him at the last moment, coming from the rooftop that he jumped up to. He grabbed her board and slammed it to the ground with her on it. The board shattered into a million pieces, but Donna seemed unharmed. Atlas sprung up, ready to keep fighting, and Black Narcissus rose fractions of a second after. She pressed her thumbs to her ring fingers and the light on the black glowed a dark red.

She swung a right hand punch at Atlas who caught it in his left. But the light on the back of her gauntlet started to glow brighter as she put in more effort, pushing back against his metallic muscle. Atlas pushed his legs back, trying to stabilize himself. Donna started to push him back more and Keiji could hear the motors start to strain. Atlas stopped resisting against Donna, then, before she could take advantage of it, he kicked up some of the pieces of the broken hoverboard at her. Using her momentary surprise, he punched her square in the chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her to the ground.

“You fought well,” Atlas said, turning away from her.

“Wait,” Donna said, getting up. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, you are. Accept your defeat. There is no shame in losing to the strongest.”

Before Donna could protest, Atlas turned to Keiji. “Come, and bring your things. I have use for you.”

Keiji raised an eyebrow, but grabbed his backpack and started to follow Atlas further down the alley.

He turned back to Donna and mouthed “I’ll text you” to her. He hoped she got the message.

⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️

“Stop here.”

Keiji stood behind Atlas, who was peering into an old garage a couple blocks from the alley where he fought Black Narcissus. He grabbed the padlock that was keeping the door shut and squeezed it, turning it into dust.

“You will find the tools you need in here. Repair the damage caused in the last fight, human.”

Keiji raised an eyebrow. “First off, I don’t really like being called “human”. Technically true, but feels hurtful in this context. Second, I’m a software guy. I couldn’t fix you if I wanted to. Third, being nicer to people will generally get you better results. Not really inclined to help someone who starts by insulting me.”

“Niceties are a waste of time. Fix me, or I will end you.”

Keiji shook his head. “No, you won’t. I can’t fix you, but you know my teammates can. And they’d never do that if you hurt me at all.”

Atlas punched the concrete wall in frustration, cracking it. “Very well. You are correct… I do need your help. What will they require to do so?”

“I don’t know. But come back to the arena with me. We can talk with them there and see what it takes.”

“Very well. Let your friends know that I require their assistance.”

⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️

Atlas stood before Vic and Donna, who made it back to their workspace just before the robot did. He towered over the three humans, but if any of them were intimidated, it was hidden behind a masterful poker face.

“Y’know, I thought more people would care that we just walked in with a robot and are talking with him like he’s a person,” Donna remarked.

“People are busy and indifferent. The other competitors probably think it’s a marketing scheme or something and are just ignoring us. I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Keiji said.

“Yeah, that. But so… Atlas has become sentient. Good for you, really. But… hooray. Another sentient robot,” Vic said.

“You see a lot of those?” Keiji asked.

“More than you’d think.”

“I am glad that you are not concerned by my presence. That saves me much effort. But the question at hand remains: I have been damaged and require repairs. Will you repair me?”

“Yes,” Vic and Donna said at the same time.

Vic looked at her, surprised. He figured she’d have some hesitancy.

“But, I’ve got a small condition for you. Should be no big deal. Win us the next round of the competition.”

“Ridiculous. You ask me to do something so trivial it is unfair, like a pro athlete competing at a preschool.”

Donna shrugged. “Yeah, it’s trivial and easy, but it helps us a lot.The club will look much better and get a lot more support for next season if we make it into the semifinals.”

“I’ll even raise the stakes. If you win the next round, we won’t make you enter the finals. Instead, I’ll give you a real challenge. You can fight me.”

“Why would I want that?”

“Because I’m the strongest one here by far. And, if that’s still not enough if you beat me, I’ll show you how to repair yourself. Then, we’ll let you go live as you want, provided you promise to only fight people who want to fight.”

Donna looked at Vic, concerned. “Who would want to willingly fight someone like Atlas?”

Vic sighed. “Trust me. There are plenty of weirdos in this world who just want to fight. It’s much better than me just throwing him in prison or taking him apart.”

Atlas made a noise that Vic thought was supposed to be a scoff. But maybe it was just static. The speaker wasn’t that high quality.

“You make a very strong set of promises if I win, which I will. But if by some miracle, you managed to cheat your way to victory… what happens then?”

Vic shrugged. “Pretty much the same thing. I’ll teach you how to repair yourself and let you go with the same stipulations. You just have to know that a human beat you.”

Atlas laughed. “You are a fool if you think that could ever happen. I accept your terms, human. Guide me to the arena, those boxes of scrap will be reduced to dust.”

Vic walked him over to the arena as as if he were any other competitor, but instead of waiting by the sidelines to see the results, he walked back to their workspace. He knew that Atlas would win and wanted to try and make sure that Donna and Keiji were on board with the other part of his plan.

When he got back, Donna was nervously pacing around while Keiji was scrolling through some webpage.

“So.. Vic… do you really think that this is the right idea? You’re just… unleashing him on the world. Isn't that irresponsible?” Donna asked.

“I don’t think so. Yeah he wants to fight people but he has restraint to some degree. He knows the difference being fighting every random person he sees and fighting someone who has a reasonable amount of strength. I dunno, I think him messing up and fighting… Superman or something and taking a big loss would teach him far more than we ever could or throwing him in jail for being dangerous. Is it a risk?… kinda. But so is any option.”

“So your best guess is just… let him go and figure it out?” Keiji said. “Isn’t that a bit too… hands off?”

“Got a better idea? That’s pretty much what we got to do.”

“No. I don’t. But this just feels... risky.”

“Yeah, it is. But he’s fairly reasonable after being conscious for what, 12 hours? Over time, he’ll probably mellow out and if he doesn’t, I can take care of him then. But he deserves a chance like anyone else.”

Keiji nodded. “Fine Vic. If that’s what you think the best path is… I’ll stand by you.”

“Same, Vic. I want to believe in him too.”

“Thanks guys, really. Hopefully we can all look back on this and agree this was the right path.”

A horn sounded and a voice came over the loudspeaker. “Semifinal-2 has ended! The winner is the University of Michigan’s Atlas! Please collect your robots and be ready for the finals at 1:00 PM.”

The team stood up and gave each other a round of high fives. They really had made something great. Now it was time to see just how great he really was.

⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️

Two hours later.

The team packed up after their semifinal match, citing an unspecified emergency with the tournament staff. They weren’t happy with the anticlimactic end, but ultimately they couldn’t force the three of them to continue to compete and so they left without much hassle.

The three of them drove north until they found the first open field that Vic and Atlas could have their match in. There wasn’t anywhere that they could find in the city that wouldn’t attract too much attention or put innocent people at risk and they managed to convince Atlas of that too. The robot was in the trailer towed behind the three of them, much to his chagrin.

But after a half hour or so, they found a spot. A wide open, grassy field with no one around to interfere or get hurt. A perfect spot for them to settle things. Vic got out of the car and started to stretch, trying to limber up after the car ride while Donna and Keiji helped Atlas out of the trailer.

Atlas rotated his head, taking in the environment. “A flat, quiet field. An honorable place for battle.”

Vic let out one lat calming exhale before approaching Atlas. “Plus, no one is around to get hurt. That’s important too.”

“...Yes. That too.”

“The rules are simple. A clean match, no foul play between either of us. Whoever is left standing when the other yields or is unconscious wins.”

Atlas laughed. “I will never yield.”

“We’ll see,” Vic grinned.

“Oh, one other thing. Not really a rule per say, but a strong suggestion: Try not to seriously hurt each other. You’re not trying to kill or maim each other,” Donna said.

“Yes, yes. May we begin?”

Vic nodded, and took a step backward, creating about ten feet of space between him and Atlas. Before the dust even settled, his arms were force cannons launching pure energy right at Atlas’ chest. Vic had designed Atlas, he knew that he wouldn’t be very damaged by those. But he had underestimated just how much he would be able to tank them. The force blasts did little more than chip the paint and an exhilarated Atlas sprinted at Vic like a charging bull.

Once Atlas was a few feet away from Vic, he prepared a concussive grenade and exploded it directly against Atlas, using the force to stagger him out of the charge. Before the robot could launch another attack, Vic swung a full force punch into the robots’ chassis, crumpling it inwards slightly. Vic followed up the punch with another, but Atlas was ready for it and parried it with his left arm, then kicked Cyborg away, sending him flying backwards.

Cyborg shot his force canons at the ground to give himself some momentum in the opposite direction, slowing himself down. But Atlas had some tricks up his metaphorical sleeves too. Having realized that a direct approach was difficult, he used his powerful hands like a backhoe to scoop up a massive piece of earth and hurled it at Cyborg. Vic was unsure how to react to this, or more precisely, how he expected Atlas to follow this attack up. The boulder itself was a problem, sure, but it was just to close the gap. Atlas could be using it to block his line of sight and be jumping right behind it, or he could be using the temporary blindspot caused by the massive object to approach from either side.

Instead of guessing, Vic decided to power through the problem. Vic shot both of his force cannons at the projectile, sending bits of dirt every which way. Atlas was hiding in what was once the dirt ball’s shadow and Vic took advantage of his surprise to launch himself at the robot. Cyborg shot his force cannons behind him, propelling himself forwards rapidly in a charge mirroring Atlas’ own.

He knocked the massive machine to the ground and sat on his chest, using his arms to pin down the machine’s.

“You’re down, Atlas. Do you yield?”

“I told you. I will never yield. I am the strongest!”

Atlas began to press his weight against Vic’s strength. Vic knew he was a match for Atlas’ strength but there was one key problem: stamina. Vic’s body was, of course, cybernetic in part, but it wasn’t the same. He was still human and human beings got tired. Machines did not.

Vic could already feel his muscle starting to fatigue. The fight hadn’t been long, but any fatigue was going to be the difference. He knew he was a match for Atlas’ strength when he was at 100%, but every percent below that made it more and more likely to be Atlas’ win.

‘I need to end this fight now or the immediate future if I want to win. But my normal attacks aren’t doing anything to him. I could try a sonic attack, but I don’t think that’d really effect him. I could try targeting his joints specifically, but those were designed to take more than I can give. But I can’t just let him overpower me for the win. That’d make him overconfident and more likely to get into trouble afterwards. No… I’ve got a better idea.’

In an instant, Vic’s muscles stopped resisting. “I yield.”

Vic pushed himself off Atlas, who stood up and looked at Cyborg, confused.

“What foe yields when he has his opponent on the ground, at his mercy? I demand you continue!”

“No. This fight was never to the death, only to yielding. But frankly, you aren’t strong enough to interest me. You said it yourself, you will never yield. And pummelling you to a point where you are the equivalent of unconscious just isn’t worth my time. So I yielded. Congrats. You win.”

Atlas stood, incredulous. “No. That is not allowed. I did not win. You lost! Those are not the same!”

Vic turned to Keiji and Donna and then noticed that the fight had taken them about 30 yards from where they started. He started to walk back towards them, and Atlas followed.

“Guys, I yielded that fight. Doesn’t that mean I lost?”

Keiji raised an eyebrow. “I guess?”

“See? Congrats, you won.”

“... I do not accept this victory. This is a loss in all but name. Mark my words, Victor Stone. I will wander the globe, facing foe after foe to grow stronger. I will become the strongest being and when I do, we will have a real fight, one where you must acknowledge my strength for real.”

“Looking forwards to it. Stay out of trouble until then, understood?”

Vic held out his hand for a handshake which Atlas begrudgingly accepted.

“Understood.”

“Atlas, catch.”

Keiji tossed a small flash drive to Atlas who had to bend down to grab it.

“That has all your schematics and drawings on it, as well as all the parts we used to make you and where we sourced them from. It’s probably the best thing out there to help you repair yourself.”

“Thank you. You all have given me much to think about it. When we meet again… I will be stronger in body and mind. Farewell for now but I will return to challenge you again, Victor.”

“I’ll be waiting. And I promise to go all out next time, Atlas.”

Atlas took off to the west, heading to only he knew where.

Once he was far enough out of sight, Vic laid down on the ground, exhausted.

“Well, that’s enough bluffing for the next decade. I really underestimated him.”

Donna sat down to his left, Keiji on his right.

“Told you that you were being cocky. We all built him but he’s out of all of our leagues,” Keiji said.

“Yeah… but I really wanted to do it, y’know? Kinda humbling to be beat by your own creation.”

“If it makes you feel better, I lost to him too,” Donna said.

“Wait what? When did you fight him?”

“I’ll tell you on the way back. Not my finest moment, but I put up a good fight.”

“Proud of you. You’ve come a long way in your training. But after that fight… I’m going to need to get a lot stronger and pick my own training back up. I kinda feel like I’ve been stagnant for awhile, just sort of winning my fights through grit and will power. But if Atlas had been hostile… I don’t think I could’ve stopped him. So, I’ll need to get back to the drawing board and see what I can do to take myself to the next level.”

“And we’ll be there to help you however we can. But uh… Vic, finals are in like two weeks. Maybe focus on that first?” Keiji suggested.

“I’d rather get beat up by another robot,” Vic groaned.

<<| <| >

We had a Best of 2019 contest!

Here are the results :)

Best Book

• The Flash - Winning Nominator: u/Predaplant

Second Place: u/Commander_Z also nominating The Flash

Best Hero

• Superman - Winning Nominator: u/OneKnownAsImp

Second Place: u/Predaplant nominating John Stewart

Best Villain

• Tali (Kara Zor-El) - Winning Nominator: u/OneKnownAsImp

Second Place: u/Commander_Z nominating Victor and Nora Fries

Best Side-Character

• Katma Tui (Green Lantern) - Winning Nominator: u/Commander_Z

Second Place: u/OneKnownAsImp nominating Lucy Lane

Best Story

• "The triumphant return of Kara Zor-El in KZE #30" - Winning Nominator: u/Predaplant

Second Place: u/Predaplant nominating "Wonder Woman: War of the Gods"

Best Crossover

• An Offer You Can't Refreeze (Batman, Kara Zor-El, and Superman) - Winning Nominator: u/Predaplant

Second Place: u/Commander_Z nominating World's Finest

You can read all the nominations by clicking here!

Congrats to the winners and don't celebrate too hard! Awards have been given out to all the winners!!

Author: FrostFireFive

<< | < | > | >>

Book: Batman

Arc: Time Out

Set: 91

THEN

“Mrs Wayne?” the funeral director asked as he looked at the woman in a green dress and warm fur.  Gotham in the winter was a terrible place.  Cold and unforgiving to the warmest of hearts.  “The plot is ready for you to examine.”

“It is?” Martha said softly.  She had been walking the graveyard for hours, the snow falling and erasing her and the director’s paths.  It had only been a week since seeing Zorro at the Monarch, where three had become one.   The lawyers had swarmed the last Wayne, trying to figure out how much of Thomas’ nascent empire would become hers.  She hadn’t spoken much and hadn’t even been able to figure out where her family would be buried.  

Some, like her brother Jacob, wanted her to hand the reigns to him while she grieved.  She was a doctor, and doctors healed people.  Whatever wound Martha suffered in the alley couldn’t be healed, but she could pretend to try to deny the darkness clawing inside her.

“It’s a nice plot, a bit far from the other titans of Gotham so we’ll be able to really fit any tombstone you’d want for Thomas and…” The director began.

“I haven’t decided if they’re going to be buried yet,” Martha explained.  

“But it’s custom t-” 

“It’s only my faith.  And I find to be lacking it these days.”

“It will return, especially when we get out of this accursed winter,” the funeral director said.  “Gotham always looks better when the sun shines.”

“I don’t think it will,” Martha mumbled as she looked at the plots.  There was space for both of the people she loved and the view was an outlook a Gotham that was a monster.  The black smoke coming from the foundries, the brown brick designs of Cyrus Pinkney that swallowed so many whole.

“That’s the problem really,” The director responded.  “So many people just give up in Gotham.  We manage their final resting spots, but no one’s looking for them up there.”

“Maybe it’s too late for us, maybe it’s too late for anybody,” Martha muttered as she looked towards a small bump in the ground.  She moved towards it, hearing a sharp squeal.  “What’s this over here?”

“That? Just an issue that needs to be taken care of.  Nothing ser-” Before the director could respond a loud screech erupted as the burrow below burst open and bats swarmed the two.  The director ran from the creatures, reminding himself to call Flannigan back to take care of his flying rat problem.

But Martha Wayne just stood there, the creatures fluttering around her, dark bursts in the white snow.  Creatures that had been hunted and lost so much but still flew in the night.  As they circled Martha she looked to Gotham once more.  Instead of seeing a monster, she saw a patient: the smoke killing its lungs, an oppressive architecture over bones wanting to break free.

“Thomas…Bruce,” Martha whispered.  “I know what must be done.”

…

NOW

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Martha Wayne muttered as the airship she had commissioned Alnut to build flew into the air and towards the Arabian desert.  It had been a few short hours since she had found that the League of Shadows had taken her son’s body.   The airship darted with its stolen Atlantean engines as Martha looked over her notes on the League.

The group had moved into New Gotham two decades before.  The age of wonders had yet to begin and Martha was the only hero.  They had taken to killing and reviving NG’s politicians to serve the purposes of their master Ra’s Al Ghul.  The Demon’s Head needed a stronghold to mould the League into the force of change it could be.  

Martha thought back to that first encounter.  Her in purple gloves and a cowl that struggled to move.  She had trained to fight common crooks with tips from Al.  The ninjas and mysticism that Ra’s had brought to New Gotham challenged her and forced her to learn new techniques and new limits to her justice.  

She still could see the smile on his face when she had plunged Ra’s own knife into his chest.  It was the first time she had allowed herself to kill.  An action she had struggled with in the years since.  She had thought the League of Shadows had retreated into the darkness where they belonged.  She was wrong.

“You know you can’t blame yourself,” a voice said as Martha turned.

“I thought I told you to stay back and provide intel,” Martha chided.

“I can do that through the ship,” Al Pennyworth explained as he checked the revolver in his holster.  Years in the service had always taught him to be cautious and vigilant for crown and country.  “Besides this is family.”

“Family,” Martha sighed.  “I haven’t had that in a long time.  Not even sure if I’m worth it at this point.”

“At this point?” Al asked.  “Martha you endured a loss no mother or wife should have gone through.  You put on that mask in order to make sure people have something they could look up to.  You’re a hero.”

“A hero with nothing but the mask Al,” Marth explained as she stood up and moved toward the airship’s computer.  She looked at the case files on display.  The Red Hood Gang, Three-Face, Pyg, and more.  All monsters she had put away and the scars across her body were reminders of the demons she fought.  “I sometimes wonder if Bruce were here…if he’d…if he’d recognize me.”

“A son always recognizes their mother,” Al explained.  “Love doesn’t die.  It survives within the ones we hold close.”  

Al placed his hand on Martha’s, giving it a tender squeeze.  She turned to him, laying a brief kiss before beginning to suit up and prepare for her dissent.  

“Thank you Al, from one survivor to another,” Martha said as the ship moved above the fortress she had kept an eye on after all these years. They had come to her home and taken her son.  And now…the Dark Knight was bringing hell to them one final time.

…

“Tell me, is the chamber prepared?” Nysa Al Ghul asked as she sat on a throne made of sandstone.  The desert rock had been acquired during the age of pharaohs and carved by the time the Kahn had made his presence known.  To Ra’s, it was a reminder that good work takes time.  To Nysa, it was another reminder of the shadows that followed her, demanding greatness.

“Yes, my liege,” Ubu responded.  “But I must warn you, the amount of the compound used is more than we ever used for the Master.  Such results may cause…unforeseen consequences.”

“And? Father was never dead when we placed him in the pit.  And as he taught you science is more of an art form than an exact process.  We proceed when our guest makes her arrival.”

“You want the Detective to come? I thought,” Ubu began.

“She will have to make a choice Ubu,” Nysa said.  “ And when she is broken from it I will finally take the life of the woman that killed my father.”

“What choice does she ha-”

CRASH! 

The stained glass roof that blocked the desert sun, which served as a mural to the great and mighty works of the Al Ghul family, shattered as a vengeful knight crashed through from above.  Nysa Al Ghul had invited the devil to her doorstep, and Batwoman answered.

“NYSA!” Batwoman bellowed as Ubu charged at her through the stained glass rain.  Before he could attack, Batwoman picked up a shard of the glass and cut at the artery on his thigh with ruthless efficiency.  He fell to the ground, putting pressure on the wound.  “I have come for you!” 

“Detective,” Nysa said.  “I wondered how long it would take for you to come. Some sense of maternal pride left in your old bones?”

Batwoman tossed several small batarangs toward Nysa before making her charge.  But before Martha could move, the projectiles fell to the ground as Nysa raised her sword.

“Parlor tricks and weapons of the ronin? Father gave you too much credit,” Nysa said. 

“The knife in his chest said otherwise,” Batwoman said as she pulled a small hilt from her belt, the blade telescoping out as she prepared a defensive stance.  “And the sword I will place between your eyes will agree.”

“Your threats are hollow until action,” Nysa said as she thrust her sword forward.

Batwoman blocked the attack as the two dueled across the throne room, locked in a dance that both knew would be someone’s last.  Each thrust, parry, and swing another step as the two let their anger and adrenaline guide them.  Their blades were evenly matched.

“Action? I took action against you Nyssa, I drove the League of Shadows out of my home, and I drove a blade into your father’s heart!” Batwoman said as her blade cut through the simple breastplate that protected her.

“That’s no ordinary blade Detective,” Nyssa said through gritted teeth as her sword scraped against Batwoman’s symbol.  “Father was right to try and make you his concubine.  Even if he didn’t realize how much of a mutt you truly are.”

“And yet you only rose to power after your sister left to go save the world.  Did you ever wonder what dear old dad did? They’re still finding chunks of her across the desert and you still defend his crusade!” Martha said as their swords continued to clash.

“I am proud of my father,” Nyssa explained. “And not a day doesn’t go by where I don’t want him back.  So why do you fight my gift?  Why come all this way from your shining utopian hell into my lands.”

“Because you took my son,” Batwoman said as she blocked under Nysa’s strike, pulling a small homing beacon from her back.  Nysa was faster and younger, but she believed skill and natural talent were the only ways to win a fight.  Martha remembered when it was easy for her to use her strength and agility.  But the scars added up, and the Batwoman had more tricks to save her pain.  “And the night is not finished with you.”

Batwoman tossed the beacon as it attached to Nysa’s chest, smoke emitting from it as the room plunged into darkness, Nysa thrashing about with her blade to clear a darkness soaked into the desert throne by Batwoman’s device.

“Face me you coward!” Nysa yelled.  “I offer you the ultimate gift, and instead you turn away from it! What mother would not want to see their child, what monster?!”

Nysa Al Ghul was many things.  She fought in wars in the ice and sand and trained with the Dragon and Shiva, but in the dark, she was the little girl the great Ra’s Al Ghul left trapped in a tomb, with only a knife in the dark as she could hear the snakes slither closer and closer, with the promise of life only if she could survive.

As she thrashed in the dark, she couldn’t see the red eyes open behind her as Batwoman grabbed her neck and slammed her to the ground, the shadows disappearing as Nysa could see the anger and shame on Batwoman’s face.  A face she recognized as the last of the Al Ghul’s.  The emptiness was all-consuming, and Nysa laughed as she knew her plan would defeat her mortal foe. 

“Nysa, it’s over!” Batwoman said as she ripped her mask off, revealing Martha Wayne's face. Her rage and anger were clearly shown to the defeated insurgent.  “Anything you do, I will stop you, I will make sure you are the last of your line!”

“It’s funny, Detective, seeing you like this.  Father saw you as a perfect mate, a partner to build the next line of saviors for this world,” Nysa began. “But just like him, you wouldn’t know what to do if you ever found happiness.  Or succeed in any of the goals you laid out.  Makes me feel…perfect on my final act.”

Before Batwoman could speak, Nysa bit down hard, cracking a hollow tooth wide open, the poison activating as her body convulsed.  Batwoman didn’t blink, not caring that the last of the Al Ghuls faded under her boot.  Another threat to New Gotham had been taken care of, and the Batwoman could return to business as usual.  A voice cutting through the sandy palace would ensure that would never happen.

“Mother,” Bruce Wayne asked, his eyes still weak after waking in a room, barely remembering the warmth of Lazarus that had ripped him from his eternal slumber.

…

The airship was mostly quiet on the way back to New Gotham.  Martha Wayne had torn the sand-coated costume from her as she carried the boy back from the accursed palace.  She was not used to the weight in her arms, the soft face untouched by the horrors of the world.  It was the boy she had lost in that alley.

He was resting in one of the living quarters, confused how his mother had suddenly shown up older, tougher, and wearing a costume out of Zorro.  That damn movie was one of their favorites and one of the reasons Martha was inspired to even begin this damn crusade.  This should have been the happiest day of her life; what was lost had been restored.  But still, she sat there, paralyzed with fear.

“I must say I didn’t expect to see you up here,” Al Pennyworth said as he pulled up the chair in front of Martha.  “Not with what happened.”

“I just need rest,” Martha mumbled, her body aching from the fight. 

“You and I both know you’re not the person that needs rest.  I was there when you perfected the concept of micro napping.  It’s how you were able to send Doctor Destiny to a nice sleep at the Arkham Institute,” Al continued.  “The real problem is the ten year old boy alone in a small cabin sleeping for the first time in over thirty years, untouched by the ravages of time that coat you and I.”

Martha sat silent for a moment, her face slowly beginning to crack.

“He can’t be…he isn’t what I…” Martha began to sputter.

“He is.  In some twisted way, that demon did a noble act before her death,” Al said.  “And now we must face the consequences of a blessing you do not want to take back.”

“But what if I can’t…what if he knows I’m not the same Al,” Martha responded.

“You’re not.  But he’s still a scared boy looking for comfort.  And like it or not, you are still his mum.  And he needs you.” Al said as he left the room, giving Martha a brief kiss on the cheek.  “And I know, much like me…you will not let him down.”

Pennyworth soon left Martha to her thoughts and to ensure the airship would safely return to New Gotham, away from the sand and death that had consumed so much of their lives for so long. 

Martha waited a moment before getting up and walked to the door with her boy sleeping soundly.  She opened it. And for the first time in years…stepped into the light.

Next: We’re Finally Back! Be Here for Regular Programming as Batman Enters…Hollywood? It’s a Star-Studded Affair with Glamour, Bright Lights, and Murder? Also Robin and Red Hood Alone in Gotham, What Could Go Wrong?

Enjoy these stories and thanks for reading!

Batman

(by u/FrostFireFive)

Round 1

Tim Drake hated these things.  Gotham City was notorious for being a place where the fringe and hidden people had gathered to socialize and build a better life.  Heaven knows the small district of Tynion Square had hosted a lively circle of people and the people they had loved or chased.  

With a Soder-Cola in hand, Tim Drake sat down at the first seat he could find and made sure his name tag was on straight.  He had been out for a bit, but being Robin had meant he had to put his dating life on hold for a bit.  But with the encouragement of his father and Alfred, he was here, at the 20th Gotham LGBTQ+ Date-A-Thon.  A speed dating bonanza in the square.

“Hello,” A blonde man sat across from him as the bell began to ring, his name tag reading Bernard. “So you do these things often?”

”Not really,” Tim said. “Kinda busy with the job, but I figured it would be a good place to start, right?”

” One Hundred Percent,” Bernard responded. “Only night of the year you can find some decent people in Gotham.  I swear, everyone either wants to be a Soundcloud rapper or the next Joker.”

”Yeah, Gotham has a lot of eccentrics, I mean, they’re not all bad,”

”Tell that to Batman, dude’s a freak.  Gives rappers and those psychos material,” Bernard responded.

Tim Drake sighed.

Round 3

”So what do you do for a living?” A girl with pink hair and a name tag reading Emily asked.

”Well, it’s kinda like an internship between school. You know how it goes,” Tim responded. 

“And how old are you?” Emily asked.

”Twenty-One,” Tim responded.

”And you still are an intern? I mean, I’m twenty-two and Stagg Chemical already offered me a full-time job,” Emily responded.  “Haven’t you considered your future?”

”Well…” Tim began to say as the buzzer went off, and Emily moved to another table. “Thank god.”

Round 8

”I mean I make sure I hit the gym every day,” Anthony Lupis Jr. began.  “Dad always wanted me to be the best, and in order to be the best, I need to give one hundred and ten every time I hit the weights.”

”Weights, huh, that’s so fascinating,” Tim mumbled as he looked at the four Soder-Cola cans in front of him.  He was trying to keep a decent sugar buzz, but talking about weights only, well…weighed him down. 

“You got any hobbies? You look pretty fit yourself,” Anthony began.

”Well, I do jog every day,” Tim lied.  Being Robin meant he was often in better shape than most, but at the same time, it was the physical stuff that bored him.  Bruce and Jason were the brawlers, but Tim was the brains, often trying to figure creative solutions to the problems in front of him.  “But mostly I like reading, working on my computers, the occasional movie.”

”Yeah, like that new Grey Ghost, you see the trailer?”

”I would have been better if it were more like the old serials, maybe a dash of The Thin Man in there,” Tim responded.

”What the hell is a Thin Man, some kind of diet?” Anthony asked.

”Another Soder-Cola,” Tim said.

Round 12.

Tim Drake rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhausted. 11 dates, 50 minutes and each one passed him by, not wanting his number or connect.  He had always assumed being Robin would have put a damper on his love life.  But Bruce had Selina and Babs…kinda had Dick, and Jason had…had a healthy collection of books.  But, still he didn’t expect to feel so lonely.

Of course, as he was about to take off, his twelfth date took a seat in the chair in front of him.  Her blonde hair messy in a bun, with a purple hoodie that had seen better days.  Compared to the formality of previous dates, this one was different.  Even with her name tag, Steph was written in bubble letters with a bit of sparkles.

”Good evening,” Steph muttered as she had a bit of cookie in her mouth.

”Evening,” Tim responded.  “Are you…supposed to be here?”

”What, you didn’t also sign up for the date in ten minutes deal?” She responded.  

“I did it’s just…”

”People are stuffy? I mean when my dad signed me up for this I figured there would be someone to talk to, but between the gym guy, the eager chemist, and the blonde SoundCloud guy I mean…just kill me,” Steph responded, trying to figure out where she remembered the man in front of her.

”Bernard was a SoundCloud guy?” Tim mumbled as he ripped the number he had given him.

”Big time.  Me, I’m just here for the cookies before I head to the Monarch,” Steph explained.  

“Monarch, like in theatre?” Tim asked.

”Yup.  They’re playing some of the old Grey Ghost serials, the only good thing my dad ever showed me growing up.  A bit campy, but they do the big grey guy justice.  You know, I heard from my boss that Batman was inspired by him.”

”Really?” Tim responded, his mind drifting to Bruce’s whole deal.  “That would…make a lot of sense.”

”Right? Too bad none of the weirdos of Gotham take after the Mad Bomber, simple plots, easy to stop, and have flair,” Steph stressed as she saw interest in Tim’s eyes.  The fact that he didn’t look away when she mentioned something as dorky as the Grey Ghost was promising to her. 

“Listen…if it’s not too much trouble, do you want to…”

”Go see some Ghost with a new friend?” Steph smiled.  “Not at all.” As the two left the final round into the Gotham night, together.

 The Flash

(by u/brooky12)

Jay Garrick lifted a finger in the air, signaling to the person behind the bar counter to get their attention for another drink order. He slid his now empty cup forward, making it easier for the barman to retrieve. 

“What’s your deal, guy?”

Jay Garrick glanced over at the question asker, sitting next to him. He recognized the man, another frequent visitor of the location. “Hm?”

“You come here like, twice a week, drink everyone under the counter, don’t so much as talk to a soul, and then wander off. Never see you talk to a lady–or a man, that’s okay too–, never see you around town, never see you on the phone with a spouse. What’s your deal?”

Jay smiled, shrugging. “Married to my work, what can I say? No time for much else other than the occasional relaxation at a bar.”

“Oh, you’re one of thems folk. Lemme guess, since you’re built like a truck, army? Can’t get a girl even if you wanted, the forces messed your brain up something fierce so now you can’t talk to people?”

“Oh, nothing like that. Just a fair bit of travel for work and, honestly, a lack of interest. I got good friends in relationships, but it isn’t for me.”

“Plumber. Came home smelling terrible day in day out, so she left ‘ya. Come here were the booze overpowers all.”

“Gonna be real with you, even if you did guess my day job, I’d not tell you that you got it. I just don’t want romance.”

“Electrician, and you’re just sick in the head. Not because you don’t want romance, just can’t see the world the same way as other people. Final guess.”

Harley & Ivy

(by u/ericthepilot2000)

Robinson Park Apartments

Outside Pam Isley’s Door

“The Power of Love”

A lifetime ago…

Pam Isley busied herself in her lab.  Naked Cheshire blasted on the speakers while she pruned a particularly aggressive stalk of Maldita Toxicohedron.  It helped her relax, and since her insomnia had stretched over weeks, she could use all the relaxation she could get.  Not that she had to sleep, a little sun and she was good.  

Still, it was tough to fill the days.  She could only post so many screeds on the internet, and while she could talk with her plants, they didn’t always have the most to say.   

She was surprised to hear the doorbell ring, not expecting any company.  Especially not at 3 am.  Nor was she expecting to see the gaunt and lifeless blonde at her doorway, deep bags under her eyes and sporting more than one fist-shaped bruise.  

Harley was shaking, almost on the verge of tears, and Pam quickly pulled her inside, shedding her lab coat and wrapping it around her friend, bringing her to the couch.  A few moments later, they were each holding mugs of steaming coffee, and Ivy braced for the inevitable.

“I swear, Red, this time, it’s over.  I’m done.  I…” 

Pam quickly pressed her fingers to the blonde’s lips, looking at her with affection, but also weariness as Harley silenced.

“Don’t, Harl.  I can’t hear it again.”

“But, I…” Harley replied, voice trailing off.

Ivy just shook her head.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.  I’m not mad, I just… You need help.  I can’t fix you.  I never could.”

Harley looked up at her through weary eyes.  “I know.”

Pam stood up, taking Harley by the hands and pulling her off the couch.  “Let’s go to bed.  Things…will be clearer in the sunlight.”

The next morning…

Pam Isley woke up and rolled over, ready to see what Harley wanted for breakfast, only to find the bed empty next to her.  A small note sat where her body had been just a few hours earlier.

“Doing this for us, I promise.  Laters. - Harley,” the note read, with a phone number.  

Pam Isley just smiled.

◆🥦◆🥦◆ 

Ivy was right about one thing.  The morning has brought clarity.  Harley shielded her eyes as she looked up at the imposing Arkham structure.  It seemed almost fitting.  Her life had been irrevocably changed in these halls.  Starting today, it would again.  

Harleen Quinzel took a deep breath and stepped inside.

New Titans

(by u/FrostFireFive)

“What do you mean you’re nervous?” Koriand’r asked as she prepared herself in her quarters.  The Titans had always made themselves part of Chicago.  From throwing out the first pitch at both Cubs and White Sox games to helping light the city’s Christmas lights, the team always wanted to know people, they were with them.

”Because I usually don’t do the Titans…outreach programs,” Kara mumbled as she adjusted her outfit.  Kory had asked the heroine to be more open today, as Pride was often a place for people to be free, it was also hot, as Kara adjusted the front window of her costume, larger than usual, along with her shorts.  “And this is the first time…”

”Power Girl is attending Pride?” Kory asked as she finished locking the collar with purple ribbons falling to the floor all around her, making a makeshift dress.  The outfit was based on the ceremonial dress her people wore, bright flashes of orange skin showing as she moved.  “Metamorpho and I did it last year.  You should see how everyone looks at us.”

”With…”

”With absolute Joy,” Kory responded as she walked in.  Originally, it was supposed to be her alone doing this, but after a slight bribe of trading monitor duties with Nightwing, she had found that Kara had the day off.  She had seen the photos of last year from Linda, with Kara wearing a cut-off Superman shirt, a flag around her, and the sheer joy on her face

”Joy…” Kara muttered after seeing Kory’s outfit and looking away from the orange sunline emerging from the sparkling purple fabric.  “Is something that’s new,” she mumbled.

”Joy means being proud of yourself,” Kory said as she helped Kara secure the front of her costume.  “The festivals of love and companionship we have on Tammeran.  No one bothers to wear anything.”

Kara choked in surprise for a moment before regaining composure.

”Really?”

”Not quite,” Kory said with a smirk as she went behind Kara and grabbed something she had prepared before the Kyrptonian heroine arrived. “You are all so…gullible.”

”Well, you don’t really talk about home,” Kara said as she looked away, thinking clean thoughts, as Kory bobbed back into her eyesight.

”Home was free and full of love, love we have right now,” Kory explained as she wrapped a pride flag cape around Power Girl.  “And you, Power Girl, are the brightest thing out there, and deserve the joy of being you.”

”Being me?” Kara asked.

”Being you on every side of you.  Karen Starr, Power Girl, and Kara Zor-El,” Kory said as she looked at Kara, beaming.  “And telling people it’s OK to be themselves, because they see the strongest woman in the world as one of them.”

Kara quickly kissed Kory, her confidence returning.

”And that I found you,” Kara said before looking at the large open window inside their room at the Tower.  “Ready?”

”Always,” Kory said as the two took each other by the hand and flew out, open for the world to see.

Birds of Prey #36 - Step Three Investigate

^<< ^^First ^{| <} ^^Previous

Author: SqueeWrites

Book: Birds of Prey

Arc: Taking Flight

Set: 60

Jason walked casually down the steel corridor wearing the vest and helmet of the guards they’d tied up at the wet dock. Beside him, Zinda wore much the same attire except she seemed particularly stressed at this part of the plan and didn’t fail to let him know in a hushed tone.

“This plan is asinine,” she practically growled. “Do you think a facility this small that someone won’t recognize us and think that’s odd? We’re not even Japanese.”

Jason shrugged. “My dearest wife, the guards weren’t Japanese either. Besides if someone discovers us, what we do? Fight our way through? And what do you think we’d do without the disguise?”

Zinda muttered under her breath, but tightened up her grip on her gun, trying to sell the part of a guard. Jason didn’t blame her. Having tons of water pressing in on all sides while you’re deep in enemy lines with someone you don’t necessarily trust. It’s enough to make anyone nervous. Unfortunately for Zinda, Jason coped by being annoying.

“You know, there’s a bar called Ben Fiddich that I’ve been meaning to try. We should totally hit it up on that way out of here.”

“Could you just take this seri-?” Her question cut off as two masked individuals rounded the corner. One was the katana wielding woman from the weapons storage facility on the island and the other was Deadshot. Jason had been expecting him so it was easier this time to bite down his hatred for the man that he blamed for Barbara’s injury. He continued his casual nature as the two walked briskly down the hall.

“Oh come on, it’s way better than it sounds. You just tell them random stuff and they’ll make a drink for you. You could be like, ‘I want something that evokes Die Hard’ and they’d do it. Grape Christmas? Done. I saw videos online of a bartender literally burning an antler as part of the drink. It sounds like an experience!”

Neither Deadshot nor the katana woman paid attention to them as they kept their brisk pace towards the wet dock. A couple guards trailed behind them, but they also seemed more interested in the two in front of them than Jason or Zinda. “And then once we’re nice and buzzed, we can hit up a conveyor belt su-. He trailed off as they got a decent distance away before motioning for Zinda to follow him.

The two walked as quickly as they thought they could manage without being obvious on the various security cameras. Whenever Jason felt that they had an opening that didn’t have guards, scientists, or cameras, they even sprinted a little bit. Eventually, they came to a door labeled, “Administration.” Jason put his back to it.

“Okay, follow my lead and-“

“No,” she said, "Now you follow my lead!” She opened the door as smoothly and quickly as possible. Two women in lab coats were huddled around a computer screen, their heads slow to rise as Zinda walked in. The sound of her tranquilizer gun barely even startled them before the darts landed on their necks. A few convulsions of pain quickly faded as the two fell to the ground in a deep sleep.

Jason stepped in after her. “You can’t just rush in here and tranq people.”

She turned to face him incredulously. “That was literally the reason that we brought them.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t even get to shoot mine once.”

Zinda just rolled her eyes in response and went to the computer that the two had been looking over. Jason walked over to stand beside her, noting the Excel sheet displayed but not really sure what it entailed. He patted down his attire as he pretended to look for the thing black box that Barbara had given him.

“Stop messing around and just put it in,” Zinda said and then immediately regretted it, “and no ‘that’s what she said’ jokes!”

Jason chuckled as he’d been immediately about to make the obvious joke, though he’d have aimed for a little bit higher that the low hanging fruit of that’s what she said. He pulled the thin black box from one of his pouches along with its cord. He pressed it into the USB port and glanced only slightly nervously at the door. He knew they’d find the guards they’d tied up with a couple of them short a few pieces of gear and then the search for them would begin in earnest.

<°<°<°|°>°>°>

Deadshot arrived at the wet dock to see that it wasn’t as empty as the guards at the security checkpoint had led them to believe. Six guards were tied up and gagged in a blind spot from the cameras. What stood out to him the most though was that two them were missing their vests and helmets. One a man and the other a woman. Katana stepped up beside him, one hand resting on her sheathed blade as she spoke.

“It looks like they’ve out strategized us this time.”

“I can see that,” Floyd said angrily and Katana giggled. Giggled. She was a lethal assassin as deadly with her Katana as he was with a gun and she giggled at finding out that they’d been outsmarted. “You know, I think you might be crazy.”

“Perhaps,” she said, unsheathing her husband-sword and kneeling next to the woman who’d had her vest and helmet stolen. The woman’s eyes were wide with fear, staring at the two masked individuals.

“P-please don’t kill me.”

<°<°<°|°>°>°>

The radio in Zinda’s ear crackled to life as Barbara’s connection was restored. They’d lost her halfway to the underwater facility and docking had been an abrupt endeavor once Jason didn’t have her expertise in his ear. She was not excited for the way out.

“Thanks for the infiltration. Give me a few minutes to see what we’re dealing with,” Barbara said and then the line fell silent. Jason gave her a glance and a shrug before digging into the papers that were around the computer and in the filing cabinet against the wall. Zinda stepped around to the other end of the room near a fake plant and watched the door. She was glad that Jason was being quiet now. She knew that his annoyingness was just his nervousness that had ramped up once they’d docked, but it really was not helping her own nerves.

The only other true infiltration she’d done that wasn’t a military exercise was the BSL base and that had been a more guns blazing approach. The constant wondering if people would catch them was more anxiety inducing than literally being shot at. It was like the “Will They Won’t They” from a romance movie except where their lives were on the line. When the alarm went off, Zinda flinched heavily and sloppily drew her tranq gun from her holster and pointed it directly at the door.

Red lights blared as the alarm screeched out a screeching pattern that no one would sleep through. Jason had almost had his drawn as well, when he paused stuffing it back in. “Evacuation was the plan, remember?” He placed a finger to his ear and covered the other one with his hand as he spoke. “Guess that means they’re bad guys after all?” Zinda covered her own ears so she could hear Barbara’s response.

“That wasn’t me…”

<°<°<°|°>°>°>

While the blaring alarm was annoying, Katana had spent years attaining a focused, meditative state while wielding her sword. When the Squad had fallen on this group in the storage facility, they’d lost quickly. Some of them had been emotional while others had simply outclassed or outnumbered, but still they fought well. Most of them were more well trained than her own group and seemed to possess more honor.

It made her appreciate that they’d bested them for the first move this time.

Deadshot had untied the guards when he realized what had happened and set them to evacuating the civilian personnel. I ten minutes, he’d gathered all sixteen guards at the facility and had them stationed in the wet dock. No matter how good the two were that had broken in, they wouldn’t be able to take that many. Only two of the civilians were unaccounted for and they both worked in the Administration room.

Deadshot stepped over to her, quickly checking his gun was smooth in his holster. “Are you ready?”

She simply nodded and the two them started to move down the hall. Katana wondered if any of those would be that Deadshot had spared. Would he spare them again?

<°<°<°|°>°>°>

“What do you mean it wasn’t you?” Zinda asked incredulously.

“This location isn’t illegal. In fact, we’re in over our head. I was gonna pull us out.”

“They found them quicker than I thought,” Jason said, barely audible above the alarm. Zinda focused back on Barbara’s voice.

“What’s the full situation?”

A sigh came through the radio. “This is a legit facility. An arm of the BSL was hired by the Japanese government to make weapons, ostensibly for the SDF but the amount and quality of weapons seems pretty big for the SDF which is probably why it was so hush-hush. My best guess is that Japan is attempting to distance themselves from the US. Politics aside, that’s not the craziest thing.”

“Which is…?” Zinda asked. Her grip on her gun tightened and she continued to keep it tracked on the door.

“Japan’s not the only one working in the shadows. From some notes I’ve found on the network, it sounds like the weapons were ’stolen’ and now the US has their shadow ops team ‘protecting’ the base from further theft. My guess is the team that was at the storage facility is working for the US government and are here in the base. Nothing illegal, everything is questionable morally and none of this is something we want to be part of. Dragging this into the light only puts pressure on us from both Japan and the US.”

Zinda took a deep breath. Her nerves oddly settling now that she knew that they were found and what the plan was. “All right, what’s our escape route? Waterbound?”

“Waterbound,” Barbara agreed. “There’s an exit relatively close to you. Go straight out of the admin building and then next right and then follow that hallway to the end.”

“All right,” Zinda said and moved to beside the door. “Let’s head out.” She swung the door open and stood face-to-face to the masked woman, her katana bare. “Shit.”

<°<°<°|°>°>°>

Jason’s tranq gun locked on the opening and immediately fired three tranq darts, but each were cut and knocked away by the woman’s blade which moved in a blur. Jason knew that the tranq darts were slower than bullets, but that speed and control was insane. They were screwed. Deadshot stepped into view on the other side of the door his gun trained on Jason who’s hatred rose up in the back of his mind. He felt like he was back in that warehouse almost five years ago now, facing down this jackass with a gun. Jason yelled over the alarm.

“If you surrender, we’ll consider going easy on you.”

It was hard to tell exactly where Deadshot was looking with the eerie red lens of his mask, but Jason could feel the chill in the man’s voice as he responded. “You’re trespassing on a Japanese government facility and have assaulted at least four different government employees of which at least two are civilians. Surrender your weapons and you can face the appropriate penalties under Japanese law.”

“Sure thing,” Jason said, “And we’ll make sure to tell them who took their weapons. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get all the credit.”

For a moment, the blaring alarm was the only sound as they considered their options. Neither of them could act through official channels and neither of them wanted the repercussion of killing the other side. The most prudent action would be for them to just leave and pretend this never happened. But no one had ever accused him of being prudent. He reared back and flung his gun at Deadshot and then sprinted into melee.

Birds of Prey #37| Next>

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