The New Ultimate DC RPG - Season II

[Spike_x1]

The Atom says, "Wow! You and Flash have been to another planet? That is just cool! Being you're from another planet that must not be that big of a deal to you or it might be. I mean the closest I've been is when we had our fight Star'ro and I..."

The tiny heroine looks at Superman and realizes she is suddenly in full-babbling mode. She then recomposes herself.

She continues, "Oh right sorry about that Superman. Anyway it doesn't look like anyone has really been here outside of us so far for an extended stay. From what I can tell some of the other members have dropped off some items, some of them hardwired them into the main power grid, and left. It's not like anyone left their names on their items."

The Atom floats over to the main computer system and says, "I haven't cut any of them on or hardwired some of them. Some of this stuff just looks intimidating especially at my size. Be my luck I cut on something that opens up a portal to another dimension."

The Atom then cuts on the main computer system and says, "Your idea about a library reminded me of something. I got this file from a Government Agency called CADMUS that is no longer in service. I'll tell you about them sometime if I told you now deducing my secret identity wouldn't be too hard."

She hops on a couple of buttons and a database opens up on the monitor entitled: Metahumans & others. Within minutes a list of heroes and villains opens on the screen.

The Atom says, "The Government had been keeping tabs on us and those of questionable morality for sometime. It doesn't list any secret identities and this is the only file in existence Pete Ross made sure any copies were destroyed."

"That's... good." My voice trails off somewhat as I examine the list of names and the brief analysis that accompanies each one. I suppose I can't blame the government for wanting to keep track of certain individuals who have our kind of power, but, on a personal level, it's a little discomforting to see my name listed just after the Silver Banshee.

I guess it's a bit more comforting to know that the only copy of the list is in the League's possession right now, but even then, does the government not have the responsibility to have this kind of information? We'll all have to talk about it later, and invite Pete in on the discussion. At the very least, it will be good to see him again after all these years.

"Hm?" Something catches my attention and I can tell that the Atom notices. Before she can ask what it is, I tell her, "Sounds like a jet on approach, but it's... muffled." For lack of a better term. The noise of the aircraft is hard to describe. It's quiet, like I'm hearing it, but at the same time, it's as if I'm not. To add to the growing concern, I can't see the jet when I look outside with X-ray vision.

Is this a surprise attack or a friendly visitor?

 

[Byrd Man]

As they've been speaking, the streets around the heroes have been subtly growing worse and worse. When the Flash casually turns to glance at the world around him, the wasteland of crime, poverty, and death seems almost as though it had always been that way, and he simply hadn't noticed.

"I mean, it's not as if a junkie ever sold her kid to pay for more of the good stuff, right? That man over there who just shot a husband and wife for their money," Superman points to a laughing maniac across the street, soaked in blood. "Well, he only did it to help pay for his son's college tuition. See? I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable excuse for why we're not going after these "people.""

The Man of Steel can see doubt swimming through his teammates and he falls silent. "Y'know what, chums, you're right. We should be doing more to help good people, shouldn't we? We need to save this sick and diseased world we live in. What do you say, Flash?"

All eyes fall on the Scarlet Speedster.

"Yeah....it...it makes sense."

I shuffle my feet and rub the back of my neck. I know Superman and I aren't exactly bosom buddies, but his voice is different than it's been in the times we've met. It has a hard edge to it, his last words coming out almost like a snarl.

"I guess we should help as many people as we possibly can, you know?"

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"That's... good." My voice trails off somewhat as I examine the list of names and the brief analysis that accompanies each one. I suppose I can't blame the government for wanting to keep track of certain individuals who have our kind of power, but, on a personal level, it's a little discomforting to see my name listed just after the Silver Banshee.

I guess it's a bit more comforting to know that the only copy of the list is in the League's possession right now, but even then, does the government not have the responsibility to have this kind of information? We'll all have to talk about it later, and invite Pete in on the discussion. At the very least, it will be good to see him again after all these years.

"Hm?" Something catches my attention and I can tell that the Atom notices. Before she can ask what it is, I tell her, "Sounds like a jet on approach, but it's... muffled." For lack of a better term. The noise of the aircraft is hard to describe. It's quiet, like I'm hearing it, but at the same time, it's as if I'm not. To add to the growing concern, I can't see the jet when I look outside with X-ray vision.

Is this a surprise attack or a friendly visitor?

The Atom looks at Superman for a moment as he is now focusing in on the approaching jet.

Oh yeah the whole super-hearing thing. This guy has no clue how cool he really is.

She says, "I'll see what the sensors are showing."

The Atom begins punching up the monitors and says, "We got nothin' on the visual channels. Color-graph, Thermo-Graph and all the others are showing nothin' right now. Let me try something else."

The Atom flicks on the audio sensors and the air current sensors.

The system begins processing information and she says, "Okay at least the computer is picking up something."

The montior dipslays the disturbance as a pocket of air turbulance.

The Atom looks at Superman and says, "I know that this is going to sound wrong, but I gotta disagree with the computer on this one."

The Atom puts the command center on Yellow alert.

She says, "I'm not gonna order the base to start firing at random and run the risk of firing on a friend, but this way we're at least in a semi-ready position."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Doris says to Majestic, "Now is as good a time as any."

With that Doris transforms into Giganta towering feet over everyone else.

Black Adam takes notice of this and screams, "WHO ARE YOU? DO YOU DARE INTERUPT THE SACRED CEREMONY?"

Giganta says, "Oh no not at all! I am interupting your life!"

Giganta begins to wreck the area even knockng the portal over.

She sheepishly smiles and asks, "Oh did I do that?"

Adam flies up and says, "Wench prepare to die!"

He strikes her knocking her back. Giganta stumbles and regains her footing.

She then swats him away and says, "Nice try but I've got someone I wish to introduce you too!"

As Doris gets ready to go on the attack I stay in the shadows waiting for my moment. As I remain at my area I speed up my senses, after doing this it’s like the whole world has began to move in slow motion. With me perceiving my surrounding at this pace when I make my first move against Adam he won’t know what hit him.

Doris is doing a good job at keeping his attention on her because he doesn’t even seem like he cares about anything else around him. Watching the two of them exchanging blows finally comes to an end as Doris gives me my signal.

With no more time to waste I dirt off in Black Adam direction at incredible speed. Once in striking range I deliver a powerful left blow to Adam’s stomach and just watch as his body folds around my fist. It’s a known fact that one blow won’t do the job, so while I have him caught off guard I have to keep on with my assault. I quickly grab him by the back of his outfit with my right arm to keep him in place as I strike his abdomen with three more furious blows. To finish off my attack I stop with the punches to the stomach and send a mighty upper cut to his chin as I quickly fallow up by throwing him down towards the ground. The force of the throw sent him down a couple of feet. As I stay floating above him I charge up my heat vision to the point where I can even feel the effect of the high temperature. I then release this great amount of energy on to Black Adam as he lays buried in the earth.

I wait a moment to see if I was going to see any sign of movement and I didn’t. My attention then goes to Doris.

“That was easy enough.” I tell her.

Right as I’m about to descend to the ground I could hear Black Adam speak a word through all the rubble.

“SHAZAM!” It wasn’t very loud but loud enough to be heard.

Fallowing the words I feel a powerful jolt of energy like I’ve never felt before strike me on my back sending me falling to the ground. After I hit the ground I didn’t move for a moment because I still felt the outcome of whatever it was that hit. Black Adam busts out of the debris appearing to not have taken any serious damage. As for me on the other hand I have smoke coming from my back feeling every last bit of his surprise attack.

 

[Spike_x1]

I run. Through fields of green under a blue sky, twenty miles a day, I run.

Through a world I've never known.

The cabin where I have been in the mountains gives my the solitude I require for my meditation and exercise. My self-imposed exile is exactly what I have been needing lately, after my adventure with James Corrigan and the authorities, and my masquerade as Batman. The toll that those experiences took on me was more than I had anticipated; an unexpected hurdle in my intended path, and a course of self-indulgence to spite Wayne that I should have measured more carefully before following through with.

I had trained my whole life for this and my heart and mind are true to my cause, yet I strayed from the plan nevertheless. Why? Why did I allow myself to do so? It's true that there was nothing I could do to stop Corrigan from betraying my organization to the Syndicate and the GCPD, and it was beyond my control until it was too late, but I welcomed the challenge all the same. Likewise, it's accurate to say that my posing as Batman did much to sow seeds of distrust and hatred in the public and authorities' views of Wayne's alter ego; an intention parallel to my overall goal. But honestly, I did it to make a mockery of the man and everything that he stands for.

I was once above such petty behavior. This city, it is rotting me to my core, grating on my soul and corrupting me. Leaving my three lieutenants in temporary command, I have retreated to the wilderness to rediscover the strength to overcome this corruption. I will find it or I will die trying.

At night I swim for miles on a wine colored sea, deep and cold and dark. I have been awake for more than a week, and am on the brink of starvation, but I still have not found what I seek. Many men would have given up and gone home by now, but I will not allow myself to indulge in such weakness.

I am Bane. I endure.

Bringing my meditation to an end for tonight, I stand up and pause to feel the heat of the campfire in front of me. I try to remember what I fight for, remembering her smell and the smoothness of her skin. Her passion, in and out of combat, having gone missing from this world, leaves it a far darker place to live in. I fought for Talia once, and when I find myself, I will do so again.

 

[Byrd Man]

The team and I pack our luggage and equipment for the flight to Egypt. Faraday has supplied us all with false IDs and passports. The cover story is that we're a group of journalist going to Egypt to cover the election. The cases with the cameras and microphones are where we hide our real gear. The false bottom in each case has a stockpile of guns, explosives, and all of Faraday's computer equipment stashed into it.

"Do either of you know how far Belle Reve is from New Orleans?" Turner asks Lawton and I as he places his knives into a hidden compartment and latch the case shut.

"It's about an hour and a half drive. I'm sure it would be much quicker if it wasn't for this god awful roads and swamp."

Lawton mumbles to himself and chuckles. Turner and I trade looks and turn back to Lawton.

"Something funny, Floyd?"

"Naah, just Batman being Batman."

The prison psychiatrist spoke to Lawton after our last mission. Apparently, he's got an imaginary friend in the form of that Batman character. I can't remember exactly what the doctor's report said, something about Lawton getting his ass kicked in Gotham City caused him to obsess on Batman or something like that.

"Is everybody ready?" Faraday says as he walks in. "We've got three hours until our flight leaves. I want to get there in plenty of time just in case our jammers don't work and I have to explain why we have enough ordnance to blow the **** off of Lady Liberty. Plus, my bosses won't be too happy when I tell them that the TSA decided to run a train on us in some backroom."

"We're good to go."

"Excellent. Get the cases and your own luggage. Psi is being released from the infirmary right now. She's meeting us at the front gate.Let's roll out."

Turner and Lawton begin to grab the gear while I walk up to Faraday and guide him away to the corner of the room.

"So Psi is coming? You didn't put much thought into what I said?"

"I did, Rick. I weighed the options. I understand she's mentally fragile, but we're dealing with bombers here. Bombers who are blending into crowds. We need a telepath, Rick."

"But what if something happens out there and she snaps for good?"

"Goddammit, Rick! We had this conversation before. Suicide. Squad. Remember the name? I understand you might have a little crush on the girl, but get over it. She's like Lawton and Turner, just another soldier. We're shorthanded as it is. Do your job and lead them."

I shake my head and walk off, grabbing my bag and one of the cases before wheeling it out the door.



Then
Syria


I lead the two men through the dark, approaching our objective quietly and quickly.

"**** me," Stephens says as soon as we're a thousand hundred yards away. "Look through your binoculars."

I bring my sniper rifle up and peer through the night vision scope. A T-90 tank and a full platoon of Syrian soldiers are waiting by the gates of the facility.

"Dammit."

I scan the area with my scope, looking for anything that may help us. I spot an armored personnel carrier off to the side. Nobody is in the gunner's seat. It'll work.

"Alright. We need a distraction. Blaine."

"Yes, sir."

"Get your C-4 and put some on that APC a hundred yards west of the gate. The explosion should give us enough cover to slip in."

"No."

I turn around and look at Blaine.

"I'm sorry, Blaine...did you just tell me no?"

"Yes, sir, I did."

"It's not your place to say no, Staff Sergeant. I'm squad leader, I'm the Major, I'm-"

"You are going to get us all killed. Three of us against fifty men and a goddamn tank? It's ****ing suicide, I won't do it! Court-martial me, kick me out of Delta, I don't care. I'm not doing it!"

I don't know what it is, exactly. Maybe it's the tone of Blaine's voice, or maybe it's the stress of losing three of my men from the get go that finally causes me to snap. I drop my sniper rifle and pull out my pistol, pushing the barrel into Blaine's forehead.

"Suicide, huh? I don't give a goddamn if you die from enemy gunfire or me blowing your brains out right here. There won't be a court-martial, no time in the brig or a dishonorable discharge. You are going down there right now and blowing that APC up, or I will kill you right here and right now. Is that understood?"

"R-Rick," Stephens mutters. "The hell are you doing?"

"I'm giving an order, Lieutenant. I expect the Staff Sergeant to follow said order. What do you say, Sergeant?"

Blaine is on the point of hyperventilating. Even in the darkness, I can see his wide and panicked eyes. "....Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get to it."

I pull the gun away from Blaine's head. He stumbles backwards and turns around, sprinting away and into the dark towards the facility. I holster my gun and pick my rifle back up.

"Alright, Stephens. Let' move out."



Now


My eyes snap open. I blink a few times and try to remember where I am.

"You alright, man?" Turner asks.

"Yeah," I reply, sitting up in my seat and looking around.

The coach section of the plane is filled with maybe about two dozen people, all of them scattered around the cabin. Faraday is reading a book a few rows ahead of me while Lawton dozes a row behind him. Gayle is off to our right, she's staring out the window at the night sky over the ocean. I told her what Faraday said, she accepted it without a word. Something about that worries me more than if she would have thrown a temper tantrum and threatened to cut off my face.

I turn away from Gayle and look at Turner, who's leaned back with his eyes shut.

"Turner."

He sits up and opens his eyes. "Yeah, Flag?"

"You mind if I ask you something?"

"Let me guess, is it about what got me here?"

"Good guess. I bet you get that a lot."

"In prison, it's always a pissing contest about what you did to get you there. Same thing with the squad. On a team full of the most twisted and dangerous people, everyone loves to see how they stack up."

"True, but you've never said anything to them or that shrink that tried to talk to you a few months ago."

"You know what I did, what do you want me to say? Want me to say I'm sorry? I'm sorry for what I did, but it doesn't matter a whole lot. Doesn't change what I did."

"Why did you do it, though? That's what I want to know?"

Turner looks me up and down and turns away.

"You know what is was like, Flag, you were special forces. You spend day after day training and prepping for combat, waiting for the **** to hit the fan. When it does, you're gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time. That's now always the best environment for a marriage to flourish."

"Kinda why I never got married. One of my instructors at Rangers school said it best: 'If you needed a wife, the Army would issue you one.'"

"Good advice. Wish I could have heard it before basic. I was doing basic in Texas. I met Tina during my weekend furlough. I fell hard for her, man. We got married just as I was finishing up basic. It was after graduation that the Green Berets came calling. They'd been keeping an eye on me all throughout basic training."

"That's how special forces recruit. It wasn't until later that I found out Delta had been watching me since I was at West Point."

"Well, they pitched me and I accepted. I went through airborne and became a Green Beret. Tina wasn't thrilled but she accepted it. It started taking its toll as the years went on. We fought, she cried and begged me to leave the Army. I promised her I would, but I never could. Four years ago, we were in Afghanistan looking for a major leader of the Taliban. My unit was hit by mortar fire. It was bad. Of the eighteen of us, only five made it out. I don't know what it was....but something snapped in me. I was catatonic for six months after that. The Army had no use for a Green Beret who couldn't get out of bed, so they handed me my walking papers. That made me snap out of it, but it was too late. I moped around the house for months after that, Tina always pestering me about finding a new job, asking what was wrong with me, why I didn't get help. She just didn't understand. Try all you want, there is no way you can be brought back from this kind of ****ed up. One night, I had enough. I snapped again....you read the crime report, right? She died quickly, just a snap and she was dead. She didn't suffer. Despite being out of my mind with rage, I made sure she didn't suffer. I guess that counts for something."

I stare at Turner. I can sympathize with his story. After coming back from Syria, I'm glad I didn't have a woman in my life. I acted out, picked fights. There's no telling what I might have done.

"Do you think about it much?"

"Of course. Murdering Tina is the whole reason why I'm with you on this plane, getting ready to get shot out by God knows who."

"If it's any consolation, I'm actually kind of glad you're here. So far I've met nothing but crazies and ***holes. It's good to have someone with a good head on their shoulders who's been out there before."

"Yeah, considering the last team leader was a crazy, French-Canadian terrorist, I'd say a former Delta boy with a stick up his ass is a major improvement."
"I'm sorry that you weren't good enough to be Delta, Turner. Hey, at least you got a nice little green hat to wear."

Turner chuckles and leans back in his seat.

"Go **** yourself, Flag."

"Well, considering I'm surrounding by you lovely people and a superspook who has the charisma of a sponge, I'd say that you're too late. I've already ****ed myself."
​

 

[Batman]

"This morning's edition of the Globe, sir. Per your request."

The stress of the last few hours all but completely fades away upon reading the headline. Alfred seems almost amused, looking over it again as he sits next to me in the waiting room of Gotham General. We're both in disguise, but not overly so - a hat and sunglasses for the both of us does well enough. All I needed to know was that the press picked up and ran with the story, and thanks to Alexander Knox's reputation for relentlessly hounding the police for even the most minuscule quotes, they played their part. Knox's story is so focused on the minor DUI charge that was given to me for the crash that my other supposed passenger, a one "Andrea Beaumont", is hardly even mentioned. Alfred was able to take care of the rest with little more than a sledgehammer and the space of a vacant garage. In the sum of it, we were incredibly lucky to have gotten by with this one.

Yet in all of the fuss, my focus lies moreso with the hospital's latest patient. It's been at least twelve hours since, and I still can't wrap my mind around how I was unable to put it together: Selina Kyle was Catwoman. The only woman who literally slept in one of my guest rooms for two weeks on an undercover guard assignment, and all it took was a hood and night-vision goggles to keep me oblivious. Anyone who's ever implied that I have the makings of a detective were wrong. It honestly hadn't dawned on me until the second before she removed her mask.

But in the end, it could just serve as a further testament to her skills as an undercover cop. She's had training in the art of distraction - and if her Catwoman persona had any affect on me, it was just that. Distraction. Either way, her skill is the only real excuse I have. Because now I'm at a loss. She was treated this morning and was bedridden within that hour, yet despite being told that I could see her shortly afterwards, I still haven't made an attempt.

What can I possibly say after last night? We know eachother's greatest secret. We've been exposed to the other as the liars and truly dangerous people that we really are. And to make matters worse, I nearly got her killed because of my own ego. There wasn't a moment in the fight that I couldn't have retrieved the information on Dimitrov and left, but I wanted to take him down so badly and put an end to the corruption in Chinatown.

I walked away with cuts and bruises. Selina has to walk out of here on crutches.

"The city's press shall never cease to amaze me. Their obsession with the next exhibition of violence and carelessness goes beyond anything I've ever seen. And considering I hail from Liverpool, that's a testament to be made."

Pulled out of thought, I look over to Alfred as he reads Knox's editorial. I glance at the article myself, but have to look away after I read one of the comments regarding my behavior. 'Bruce Vain', it's almost too clever for The Globe.

"Maybe so, but they definitely make my job easier."

Putting it away for now, Alfred hands me a latte and relaxes himself, watching a bit of the overhead television. "And yet to this day, you choose to have me as your publicist. Perhaps I should have asked for that raise after all."

Taking a drink, I sit forward and look ahead to the halls infront of us. Selina's room is just beyond the corner. I can almost feel the exact moment that Alfred recognize that I keep staring in that direction.

"You never did tell me how she was doing over the phone. I trust that everything went accordingly?"

I look off for a moment. "She'll be fine. A fractured femur, a sprained ankle, stitches, and a concussion, but she's due to be released tomorrow."

"Ah, then we should all be grateful. Miss Kyle was able to scrape by with only a quarter of your injuries from the last month."

Alfred tries to hide it, but I could tell that he was just as surprised whenever I told him about Catwoman. He interacted with her more than I did in the weeks that she spent at the Tower, but it was enough to leave a positive impression on him. Maybe because, unlike me, Selina never seemed to want to give him orders. Which was another factor that could have played into the effectiveness of her disguise - whenever I thought of Selina Kyle, it was a basic memory of a cop doing her job. In the interactions with her newest persona, she was...

Well, something else entirely.

"Sir? If I could pose a question,"

"What is it?"

"Well, I know this might seem rather obvious. But if her injuries are minimal and you've been assured of her recovery, why are you still here? You've never stayed this long for anyone else, even Mr. Todd. You hate hospitals."

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. The truth is, I don't really know what's keeping me here. At first I thought it was out of some fear that one of her first words after being sedated would relate to my identity, but I honestly doubt Batman would one of the first things on her mind. She's probably tried to keep herself from revealing her own secret to the physicians. I could tell myself that it's something else, but I don't have a clue as to what.

"You tell me. I've been pacing the floors for hours and I don't even know why. After everything that happened, I just needed some time to think, but..."

"But you could have easily done that at home. Or in the cave, per another of your usual habits. It just surprised me, sir, that you would go this out of your way for someone you barely know."

Dismissing his observations, I shake my head. "It's not that. I've taken bullets for other people, so this is nothing. It's just that... with what she knows,"

Alfred crosses his arms.

"Honestly? You needn't worry about it. She did tell you that you were even, and it's technically correct. Considering that, she also isn't quite like the other one, the brute that attacked Salvatore Maroni's men. I can see no personal gain for Miss Kyle from exploiting your identity."

I remain quiet. Alfred has a few valid points to offer, but it doesn't illuminate the answer to his question any more than my answers did. It's something of a mystery to me. I have so much to do and such little time to do it in, yet I'm still here. Still waiting on myself to get up and take what should be a momentary glance at an acquaintance sleeping in a hospital bed, before heading to the elevators and trying to forget she ever existed. So what the hell is keeping me?

"You're right."

"There's the statement of the century."

Ignoring his comment, I lean back into my chair. "But that's just it. I've known that ever since I brought her in here, I just didn't want to admit it. If it was really a fear of that, I could have taken precautions to see that it wouldn't happen. Instead of wondering what I'm supposed to say to someone I nearly,"

There's a pause.

"What? You nearly what?"

I curse under my breath.

"It was my fault. The reason that she's here. It was my fault that she got injured."

Alfred raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure that you're just beating yourself up over nothing. It's another one of your many unusual tendencies that I'm sure I'll never understand."

"No, it's not self-deprecation. Not this time. There was a way that I could have avoided that fight, but I went straight for the easy way out and she suffered because of it."

"I'd hardly qualify a broken leg and some head trauma as suffering,"

"You didn't see the fight."

I rub the bridge of my noise in frustration. "She had no idea what she was doing, Alfred. I knew that and I still allowed her to follow me into combat. The Dragon employs assassins and she was an untrained copycat inspired be me. I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

With some momentary silence between us, Alfred breaks it by placing a hand firmly on my shoulder.

"Bruce. We all make mistakes."

I look forward again, down that same hallway.

"I can't afford to. Not when people get hurt because of it."

At a loss of how to argue against that, or perhaps out of some sort of respect, Alfred keeps quietly to himself and gets up from his seat to walk over to the registry, likely to get started on my release paperwork from this morning. It almost slipped my mind that I was actually a brief patient this morning aswell. Must've gotten used to the bandages on my face, covering wounds inflicted by a 'car wreck' - but in actuality, by a couple of trained killers. If I was this careless with my own safety, how was I supposed to protect her?

Getting up from my seat, I slowly begin to walk towards Selina's room. Before I finally realize that I've reached the door, beginning to turn the knob. Inside of it, she's resting comfortably. EKG machines tell me her precise heartrate and an IV drip likely numbs whatever pain she was feeling. I hesitate for a moment, wanting to walk out before she notices that I'm here. But for reasons that escape me, I decide to stay. Taking a seat next to her bed, I look at her and begin to realize something. Even with all of the flaws in her combat style, I think I noticed some serious potential.

Given work, she could be something.

The only question is, should she be?

"Selina,"

Leaning closer to the side of her bed, I wait a moment and see if she wakes up. She doesn't, so I decide to continue.

"It's Bruce. And if you can hear me, just know that I'm sorry for what happened. And that,"

I pause, and breathe in deep. I can't believe what I'm about to say.

Whenever it began, I swore that I'd never take up another to carry the burden in this crusade. But after nearly getting her killed, while seeing how far she's willing to go to be able to hunt down filth like Dimitrov, maybe it's time that I allow myself at least one exception. After all, I've made little progress on my own as it stands. Maybe this is just what I need to even the odds. Hell, maybe it's what both of us need.

"I've reconsidered your offer, and I've decided that I'll do it."

Placing my hand on the bed, I narrow my eyes.

"I'll train you."

Minutes later, and the sleep has become infectious.

I feel myself beginning to drift off...

 

[MST3K 4ever]

As Doris gets ready to go on the attack I stay in the shadows waiting for my moment. As I remain at my area I speed up my senses, after doing this it’s like the whole world has began to move in slow motion. With me perceiving my surrounding at this pace when I make my first move against Adam he won’t know what hit him.

Doris is doing a good job at keeping his attention on her because he doesn’t even seem like he cares about anything else around him. Watching the two of them exchanging blows finally comes to an end as Doris gives me my signal.

With no more time to waste I dirt off in Black Adam direction at incredible speed. Once in striking range I deliver a powerful left blow to Adam’s stomach and just watch as his body folds around my fist. It’s a known fact that one blow won’t do the job, so while I have him caught off guard I have to keep on with my assault. I quickly grab him by the back of his outfit with my right arm to keep him in place as I strike his abdomen with three more furious blows. To finish off my attack I stop with the punches to the stomach and send a mighty upper cut to his chin as I quickly fallow up by throwing him down towards the ground. The force of the throw sent him down a couple of feet. As I stay floating above him I charge up my heat vision to the point where I can even feel the effect of the high temperature. I then release this great amount of energy on to Black Adam as he lays buried in the earth.

I wait a moment to see if I was going to see any sign of movement and I didn’t. My attention then goes to Doris.

“That was easy enough.” I tell her.

Right as I’m about to descend to the ground I could hear Black Adam speak a word through all the rubble.

“SHAZAM!” It wasn’t very loud but loud enough to be heard.

Fallowing the words I feel a powerful jolt of energy like I’ve never felt before strike me on my back sending me falling to the ground. After I hit the ground I didn’t move for a moment because I still felt the outcome of whatever it was that hit. Black Adam busts out of the debris appearing to not have taken any serious damage. As for me on the other hand I have smoke coming from my back feeling every last bit of his surprise attack.

Giganta watches Majestic take the lighting attack from Black Adam. Although Majestic is powerful even she can tell that this has stunned him badly.

Time for me to press the attack and give Majestic a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings again.

Giganta picks up the portal and says, "You seem to be so focused in on this Black Adam. HERE!"

She hurls it through the air like a frizbee and says, "FETCH!"

Adam glares for a moment and gets the portal back with little effort.

Once he does he says, to Giganta, "Foolish Woman! You dare interfere with my destiny! You will pay!"

He hits her with the portal staggering Giganta badly.

Giganta falls against the Mountain and Adam says, "Now prepare to meet Oblivion!"

He flies towards her and Giganta rolls out of the way at the last second, and Black Adam slams into the side of the mountain.

He is somewhat staggered and Giganta grabs.

She says, "You underestimate us Adam! And that will be what your downfall."

She pulls back throws Adam into the ground creating a sizable crater.

 

[Byrd Man]

Cairo, Egypt

The plane lands on the runway with a solid thump and slowly taxis to the airport terminal. Customs is a breeze to go through. The jammers in our cases work as well as they did in New Orleans. We pass through all the security checks and head out of the airport into the Egyptian afternoon. The heat hits me like a wall the second I step out of the terminal.

"Goddamn this heat."

"We're in the middle of the desert, Floyd. What the hell did you expect?"

"I'd rather put up with this than that sticky swamp air in Louisiana. This is more of a dry heat."

"So what's our next move, Faraday?"

"We need to head to the hotel where we're meeting our contact. That'll be our base of operations for the rest of our time here."

It takes two cabs to get all of us and our gear. Faraday and Turner ride in one car while I ride with Lawton and Gayle. Lawton argues with the cab driver in broken Arabic and English about smoking in the cab. Gayle continues to do what she did on the flight to Egypt: Staring out the window with glazed over eyes.

"You doing alright, Gayle?"

"Huh?" She asks, turning away from the window.

"I asked if you were doing okay."

"Don't pull that **** with me, man. This is North Africa, ***hole. Everybody smokes! There isn't a law banning it in cabs."

"I'm fine, Flag."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm gonna light up right now and there isn't a damn thing you are gonna do to stop me."

I shake my head and poke Lawton in the chest.

"Settle down, Lawton, before I make you."

He grumbles and leans back in his seat. The cab comes to a stop at the entrance to the hotel. Faraday and Turner's cab is just ahead of us. The two men are already getting their bags out of the trunk and handing them off to bellhops.

"Be careful about these bags, now. You drop them, no tip."

"The Four Seasons, huh?" I ask Faraday as I approach him, my luggage in my hands. "I figured you'd want the gang to be as uncomfortable as possible."

"I could give a damn about what they want, Flag, but I am not staying in some ******, cockroach infested motel without AC. Either go big, or go home. Besides, I ain't footing the bill."

"Point taken. We heading in?"
"I'm not yet. I don't care if you have to blow my head off, but I'm getting a smoke. It's been twelve hour since my last cigarette. No smoking in the airports, planes or cars, and I can bet you money there isn't any smoking in that ****ing hotel, so I'm going to stand out here and have my cigarette. So do what you have to do."

I look at Faraday who smirks.

"Have fun, Floyd. Enjoy the cigarette. If you're not upstairs in ten minutes, it'll be your last one."

Lawton mumbles and pulls out his pack while the rest of us begin to head towards the front lobby entrance.

"No smoking in doors. Swear to God, I thought this country was supposed to be civilized."

We leave Lawton behind and head into the lobby. I take a look around the elegant space and whistle under my breath.

"Nice, ain't it? Everybody wait here while I get us checked in."

Faraday heads for the front desk while I find a spot to sit down in the lobby with Turner and Gayle. While we're waiting, a blonde haired man in a suit approaches us.

"Pardon me, but would you happen to know about the antiquities museum in Iskenderun?"

I look the man up and down, trying to get a good gauge on what he can do.

"Iskenderun doesn't have an antiquities museum."

The man smiles and nods.

"Excellent. I thought you might be my contact."

The man holds his hand out just as Faraday is walking up.

"Ah, I figured you might be waiting for us here. Guys, this is our contact. He's a field operative who knows his way around Egypt."

"Yes indeed. I've been here since the revolution."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mister..."

"You know how it is in the spook business. Just call me Tom. Or, if you want to get all cloak and dagger with it, you can call me by my codename: Nemesis."

"Nemesis. Sounds very ominous."

"Thanks. I put a lot of work into it. That's really all 60% of spy school is, just picking out cool codenames."

"Well, Tom, let's get on with it. Times wasting, let's head up to the rooms. We've got an op to plan."
​

 

[Belvedere]

The air in the limousine was cold. It was always cold. Nathan rubbed his hands together for warmth and into them breathed as much warm air as he could. Neron watched on, slightly bemused, before revealing several large wads of money that he thumbed through for a moment before launching them onto his employee's lap. Heywood was somewhat taken aback but himself then proceeded to thumb the money, counting it silently, in a manner that might have been offensive to anyone other than Neron. Heywood was little more than a pawn in Neron's plan and yet the latter had begun to take a liking towards his pawn, his silent determination coupled with an unrivaled sense of self-preservation was something Neron found endearing.

"The Neron Group would like to thank you for your continued service to the company. The last was number twelve if I'm correct?"

Neron's breath is as cold as the interior of the limousine. Unlike Nathan there were no clouds of warm air pervading through the air at each breath, simply an absence of one. It was something that Nathan had noticed over the past few weeks, an ever-growing suspicion that Neron was far from what he seemed had begun to creep into the back of his mind.

"You are."

Nathan forced the wads of money into his inside pocket and resumed rubbing his hands together.

"Our last consultant made seven before coming to the realisation that consultancy was not his vocation. Needless to say he parted with our company on good terms and is now, due to the company's pension plan, is living in the lap of luxury."

Had his sixth target not alerted Nathan to the real purpose of the work that he did, he might have been inclined to believe him. Each and every one of Heywood's victims had been former Neron Group employees themselves, consultants personally head-hunted by Neron. When he failed to execute the Group's orders to the very letter he understood that he himself would be parting with the company 'on good terms.'

Nathan nodded and gestured towards the briefcase between Neron's legs.

"... The folder."

Neron handed it to Heywood who flicked through it and absorbed what information he could before handing it back to his employer.

"Clause IV of your contract comes into effect the second you step out of the car. Twenty four hours to eliminate the target. Should you fail to do so our deal becomes null an-"

"We've had this conversation twelves times and each time you tell me. I know exactly what it is I signed up for, I know exactly what it is I signed away, you don't need to tell me."

A rare act of a defiance. A rare interuption. One that would have cost any other of his employees dearly but to this Neron simply smiled and patted Nathan on the back. Heywood himself was suddenly aware of how dismissive his tone had been and he shot Neron an apologetic look, to which his employer acknowledged and replied with an almost human tone to his voice.

"... You're a man after my own heart Nathan."

Heywood opened the door to the limousine and stepped outside into the rain.

"I'll contact you when it's done."

He looked over his shoulder and shouted back before slamming the door and walking off into the distance.

 

[Byrd Man]

Cairo, Egypt


Faraday and Nemesis go about setting up all the equipment and computers while Lawton and I break into the cases and start unpacking the weapons.

"Girls, I have missed you," Lawton says while wielding a pair of Desert Eagles. He slides them into twin shoulder holsters. I pick up my .45 and cock it before placing the safety on and tucking in the holster on the small of my back. The mission calls for a more subtle approach than wearing bright shirts and costumes. Civilian clothes and concealed weapons only during this op.

"Alright, we're good to go," Faraday announces once his computer is up and running. "Someone get Turner and Marsh. Nemesis is going to give us the 4-11."

Bronze Tiger and Psi come in from their rooms and find a seat in Faraday's suite.

"Tom, I yield the floor to you."

Nemesis nods and turns to the five of us.

"Okay. Our VIP is Fahim Farook, candidate for the Egyptian Presidency. Intel suggest that terrorist will attempt to assassinate Farook in the next 48 hours, just before the polls open. Farook isn't a dummy, so he has a private security team shadowing him at all times. Our job is to shadow his shadows. That's what team one will be doing. Faraday and Marsh will be monitoring Farook at all times, using all means of surveillance - visual, electronic, and even psychic - to make sure he is safe. That opens thins up for team two. Flag, Lawton, Turner, and myself are going to get to Jihad before they get to Farook."

"I trust we have adequate intel as to where the Jihad members are set up?"

"We have a general idea. Ravan and their bomb entered the country 60 hours ago. My contacts in the CIA Mossad, and the Egyptian military and government have been combing through any informant reports or surveillance to find any hints to where they may be staying. We got a hit a few hours ago. A man matching Ravan's description was spotted by a Mossad informant in Islamic Cairo. We'll head to his last known location and search from there."

"You walking point on this one?"

"I'll be in the field with you, keeping updated on any new intel and helping take down whatever Jihad may throw at us, but Flag is still leading. I will yield to his tactical mind and prowess."

"Well, team two grab your guns and let's go."
​

 

[Spike_x1]

"Yeah....it...it makes sense."

I shuffle my feet and rub the back of my neck. I know Superman and I aren't exactly bosom buddies, but his voice is different than it's been in the times we've met. It has a hard edge to it, his last words coming out almost like a snarl.

"I guess we should help as many people as we possibly can, you know?"

"I couldn't have put it better myself, Flash," said Wonder Woman as she clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we should take this philosophy to the President and the UN, don't you agree (have you been working out?)?"

Time passes in a blur as the Justice League makes their case to the leaders of the free world, but are met with no success. "Damn them and their laws!" exclaims Superman. "What does it matter if we infringe on the rights of the people if it's for their own good? Lives are in danger everyday all around the world, and it's our job to save them!" With a glance, the Man of Tomorrow renders a drug dealer to ashes before the degenerate can sell his product to a single mother, desperate for relief from the stresses of her life.

Seeing the confusion on his teammates' faces over the murder he just committed, Superman breathes a heavy sigh. "I know what you're thinking. We don't kill. Believe me, I wouldn't have done it if it weren't necessary. This world, this sick and twisted world, only learns its lessons the hard way. We're heroes, and we need to do what we can to help people, even if it means we have to administer tough love where it's needed." The League knows that Superman is talking to all of them, but his voice seems to be somehow directed mainly at the Flash, appealing to his heart and soul.

His sense of right and wrong.

"I know that this will be controversial, but it needs to be done if humanity will ever survive and prosper in the long run. I'm hoping that you will all join me on this quest. We're the Justice League. Help me bring justice to the human race. Please." The Leaguers begin nodding in agreement, whether they consciously realize it or not, and Superman squares his shoulders and readies himself for the next phase. "Glad to see we're on the same page. Now, I'm going to Afghanistan to fight a real war on terror. Batman and Flash, how about you both go to Gotham and clean up the mob activity?"


.....


I sense another member of this team of fools falling asleep and entering my realm. It seems that it's time for the Dark Knight to join us on this journey...

 

[Batman]

"Haven't you had enough sleep for one morning, beloved?"

My eyes flutter open at the sound of her voice, my attention caught upon awakening. A bright daylight peers into the bedroom of Stately Wayne Manor, overlooking the golden towers of Gotham in the distance. For some reason, it surprises me to be in the very home that I had always dreamed of. But I'm quick to remind myself that it has become reality, shaped by my very own hands whenever I had finally found true happiness. And it's all thanks to the woman lying at my side, pressing her supple and warm body against mine. Her beauty still strikes me as breathtaking, as I lie in bliss and share a passionate kiss with her. She looks back at me and smiles, brushing her hair aside. Talia Wayne, my new bride - still managing to catch me off guard after all these years. Hard to believe I actually once thought I had lost her.

Tracing her finger across my chest, she rests her head on my shoulder and stares out at the city.

"Mmm. That's better. And what did you dream of this time?"

I kiss her again, unable to resist.

"The same thing as always. Bits and pieces of a past that I've long since left behind."

She looks up at me, partly concerned.

"Don't tell me that those days of your life still haunt you."

"Of being 'The Dark Knight'?"

Partially chuckling, I give Talia a reassuring embrace. And slowly, she begins to accept that everything's all right. I did the same, a long time ago. When I finally learned to let go of that damned curse of an existence. Haven't felt the need to look back ever since that day. When the people of Gotham finally triumphed over it's evil and took their city back. Now I can celebrate in peace.

"Believe me, the scars I carry are only physical anymore. I'm more than glad to be rid of it all."

Relieved, she nudges me to get out of bed. And I suddenly grasp at why. Today's supposed to be Dick's graduation. Another day that's hard to believe has actually come. But even if we got off to a rough start, the kid proved us all wrong and actually made something of himself. He's supposed to be getting a scholarship with top honors. I'm proud of him - just like I'm sure that his real parents would have been. I just hope that Talia, Alfred, and I were enough to fill the void.

"I am glad. I would hate to be married to a husband who lets himself be swept up in such horrors."

She smirks a bit, watching me begin to gather the clothes that she had already prepared.

"Though I would have preferred it if you had at least kept the car. I always held a certain fondness for it,"

"Then I'll build another."

I smile back. "Hell, I'll build us a whole fleet of them. Anything to make the princess happy."

She throws one of our pillows at me, catching the obvious jest.

"Please. You only spoil me like one."

Throwing my robe on, I descend down the stairs where Alfred awaits me with this morning's breakfast. The years since we moved here haven't been as kind to him as they have to me, but he's in top condition regardless. Just wish his hair hadn't started falling out so prematurely.

"Good morning, Master Bruce. I should trust that Mrs. Wayne will be joining us shortly?"

I place a hand on his shoulder as I cross into the kitchen.

"You know her as well as I do, old friend. She wouldn't miss today for the world."

"As I'm sure Master Todd wouldn't, either. Master Richard wouldn't even be receiving his degree with such honors, were it not for his tutelage in the field of psychology."

"Jason assured me that he'd be there. I trust him well enough to believe it."

"Very well, sir. Then I'll be sure to reserve our seats at the ceremony. Six of them, I take it?"

Taking a sip of my morning coffee, I shake my head.

"Seven. Talia's father was hoping to join us, but you know how he can be."

"Ah, yes. It would not be a suitable 'bash' without the esteemed elder Ducard. Infact, I was hoping to once again attempt to mend the relationship between her father and your..."

"I swear, Alfred, you better not be trying to invite that old crackpot to dinner again,"

My eyes dart over Alfred's shoulder, as I see him enter the kitchen from the rear. I can already tell that he's just woken up. Nevertheless, I give him a wide smile as he smiles back, squeezing my arm the same way that he has ever since I was a boy.

"On the contrary, he wouldn't even think of it... dad."

Given the hour, Mom must be still asleep. But it doesn't matter because I know that everything will be perfect today. We'll watch Dick graduate, then watch him leave for Europe for the next year and a half. Then I can finally move on with that chapter of my life completely. The end of crime and cruel suffering. The end of death and destruction or wanton chaos.

And definitely the end of Batman.

 

[Byrd Man]

Time passes in a blur as the Justice League makes their case to the leaders of the free world, but are met with no success. "Damn them and their laws!" exclaims Superman. "What does it matter if we infringe on the rights of the people if it's for their own good? Lives are in danger everyday all around the world, and it's our job to save them!" With a glance, the Man of Tomorrow renders a drug dealer to ashes before the degenerate can sell his product to a single mother, desperate for relief from the stresses of her life.

Seeing the confusion on his teammates' faces over the murder he just committed, Superman breathes a heavy sigh. "I know what you're thinking. We don't kill. Believe me, I wouldn't have done it if it weren't necessary. This world, this sick and twisted world, only learns its lessons the hard way. We're heroes, and we need to do what we can to help people, even if it means we have to administer tough love where it's needed." The League knows that Superman is talking to all of them, but his voice seems to be somehow directed mainly at the Flash, appealing to his heart and soul.

His sense of right and wrong.

"I know that this will be controversial, but it needs to be done if humanity will ever survive and prosper in the long run. I'm hoping that you will all join me on this quest. We're the Justice League. Help me bring justice to the human race. Please." The Leaguers begin nodding in agreement, whether they consciously realize it or not, and Superman squares his shoulders and readies himself for the next phase. "Glad to see we're on the same page. Now, I'm going to Afghanistan to fight a real war on terror. Batman and Flash, how about you both go to Gotham and clean up the mob activity?"

No. This is wrong. This is all wrong. I don't know what it is, but these aren't my friends. Even if they're not acting the same, I still know what they can do. What Superman can do to me.

"S...Superman?" I ask meekly. "I don't think killing is the answer."

The rest of the League turn on me and I can feel their sharp stares on me.

"You don't think what we're doing is right?" Batman asks, jabbing me in the shoulder with a finger.

"Where the hell do you get off telling us what to do?" The Atom scowls

Before I know it, Superman's hands are on my shoulders.

"Do you know who we are, Flash? What we can do? We could crush you into a greasy spot on the sidewalk. Who exactly are you?"

Superman begins to squeeze my shoulders. My knees begin to buckle. My shoulder blades are bending, getting close to snapping.

"I'm the guy who can something nobody else can," I growl, vibrating my body and creating a friction so hot, Superman pulls his burning hands back.

"I can outrun Superman!"

I turn around and bolt, ripping through the sound barrier a few times over as I race across the Earth.

 

[Spike_x1]

No. This is wrong. This is all wrong. I don't know what it is, but these aren't my friends. Even if they're not acting the same, I still know what they can do. What Superman can do to me.

"S...Superman?" I ask meekly. "I don't think killing is the answer."

The rest of the League turn on me and I can feel their sharp stares on me.

"You don't think what we're doing is right?" Batman asks, jabbing me in the shoulder with a finger.

"Where the hell do you get off telling us what to do?" The Atom scowls

Before I know it, Superman's hands are on my shoulders.

"Do you know who we are, Flash? What we can do? We could crush you into a greasy spot on the sidewalk. Who exactly are you?"

Superman begins to squeeze my shoulders. My knees begin to buckle. My shoulder blades are bending, getting close to snapping.

"I'm the guy who can something nobody else can," I growl, vibrating my body and creating a friction so hot, Superman pulls his burning hands back.

"I can outrun Superman!"

I turn around and bolt, ripping through the sound barrier a few times over as I race across the Earth.

The fabric of this reality bends to accommodate the will of its master as the Flash races over the horizon, only to approach the stern form of Superman patiently waiting for him.

"And where exactly were you planning to run, son?"

The speedster turns to run the other way, only for Superman to meet him there as well, hands on his hips and a look on his face expressing his diminishing tolerance. "You were never the fastest man alive, kiddo. The truth is that we were just humoring you, I'm sorry to say." The young hero can feel it as he takes in Superman's words: his speed is gone. "If you're not with us for making the world better, than you're only contributing to the problem and are no better than the rest of the scum." As if adding insult to injury, the would-be Flash feels that his superspeed is not the only thing absent. The wheelchair he is now sitting in calls his attention to the stubs at his knees where his lower legs used to fall from. "You had the chance to join us and be something great. You still can. All you need to do is seize that opportunity to change the world for the better, before you get pulled down with the rest of the human waste. Don't let yourself become one of them. Instead, rise up and help them while you do it. Win-win."

The world shifts and melts away to be replaced with a bank lobby where the speedster and the rest of the unfortunate men and women on welfare are waiting in line to see a teller.

If you still need convincing that the world needs help, perhaps you should have a taste of what we would be changing within it, the voice of Superman echoes in Bart Allen's head as a group on criminals barge into the bank and begin waving guns around. People like them are what needs to be fixed at the root of the problem, or do you need to wait until you or someone you love is shot and killed, adding even more misery to the horror that this crushing world has reduced your life to?

 

[Byrd Man]

The world shifts and melts away to be replaced with a bank lobby where the speedster and the rest of the unfortunate men and women on welfare are waiting in line to see a teller.

If you still need convincing that the world needs help, perhaps you should have a taste of what we would be changing within it, the voice of Superman echoes in Bart Allen's head as a group on criminals barge into the bank and begin waving guns around. People like them are what needs to be fixed at the root of the problem, or do you need to wait until you or someone you love is shot and killed, adding even more misery to the horror that this crushing world has reduced your life to?

I've got to do something. Even if I don't have my legs, I can still distract them.

"Alright, listen up."

I know that voice. It's Lenny Snart. Captain Cold.

No, it's not. Captain Cold doesn't exist, Flash doesn't exist. You're just some cripple who barely manages to push his wheelchair down the sidewalk.

"We want money, we want jewels. Hand 'em over, now."

Snart....or whoever it is, turns around as a police officer comes in the door.

"Police! Put the guns down now!"

No....it's....it's dad.

Snart and his partner turn around and aim for my dad. I know what's going to happen, and I try to push my chair as fast as I can across the floor towards them. I can go faster than this, much faster. Those guns would be in pieces if I had my speed.

What speed, kid? You never had speed. You were always too slow. That's why that car ran you over and you ended up having to get your legs cut off. Always too slow.

Time seems to slow down to a crawl as I watch the bullets explode from Snart's gun and rip through my father's chest. He crumples to the ground, blood pouring out of him and staining the marble floors of the bank.

"NOOOO!"

I could have saved him....but I was just too slow.

Always too slow.

 

[Andy C.]

We touch down in a small camouflaged hangar inside the mountain base at Happy Harbor, and something feels.......wrong. Things are quiet enough, there are no intruder alarms or power offline, but still, there's a certain unease in the air, a feeling in the back of my mind that tells me things are not as they seem.

"Wait here a moment," I say to Donna. "I want to make certain this place is safe."

"I thought you said we'd have friends here," Donna says uneasily.

"There are friends here, yes. Still......something's not right. Just.....stay here while I check. You might want to keep the engine running."

Donna nods, obviously annoyed that she's being told to wait behind. Still, if I've taken her into my care, the last thing I want to do is put her in danger immediately. I hope that it it's merely a sense of oddly maternal paranoia.

I step out of the invisible jet and make my way down the hallways of the Justice League's headquarters. The closer I get, the stronger the feeling of uncertain wrongness grows stronger, the gods warning me of some danger within these halls.

There's another feeling, too, that grows stronger and stronger: fatigue. With each step I grow more tired, the weight of so many weeks since the death of Steve Trevor, the battles against Kobra, the fight with Cheetah.....all of it starts to wear away at me. I have been holding tightly to my powers for so long with no release, no rest.....

.....not even any sleep.

Suddenly, the one thing I want more in the world is just to stop and rest. Catch my breath. Let everything go just for a moment, so I can refresh myself and renew my quests invigorated.

Maybe if I just lie down for a moment.

As my eyes grow heavy, I let the power of the gods slip away......



"Diana? Hey, Prince, you okay?"

"........Steve?"

I'm back in the passenger's seat of our pickup truck, driving down the interstate.

"You were going on about something, a cheetah or something. You all right?"

"I'm fine, I......I must have dozed off."

"Well, I'm glad you're awake. We're nearly back home. Your mom and dad are going to be glad to see you, and they can't wait to meet Donna."

As soon as Steve says the name, I'm aware of her presence in the back seat. She looks to be pleased with herself, an inner peace about her that I hadn't seen before.

"They're going to let me stay, right?"

"Of course. It'll be great--we'll all be one big happy family."

I look at Steve and Donna, and I smile, sighing contentedly.

No attacks.

No Kobra.

No Cheetah.

That was all far away, a dream of a dream.

We're going home now.

As one big happy family.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Dr. Charles Henderson enters Hugo's office and slams the door.

He says, "Strange I still have NO clue what led me to recommending you to the board of trustees when Janet retired, but I will not have you spouting of your pop-psychology pabulum and calling it education!"

Hugo replies, "Ahh Charles please do come in. care for some coffee?"

Henderson replies, "Can it Hugo! You're already making lots of friends with the University Admin meaning throwing you out will be difficult at best. That being said watch it Hugo! I swear the first opening I get I'll take it and have thrown out again and this time out of this profession you snake-oil salesman!"

Hugo calmly responds, "I see us working together isn't going to be possible. Well then it's time for one of us to go."

Henderson says, "I'll help you pack."

Hugo says, "Oh no not me Charles. You will resign your position effective immediately. You will cite the need to be with your family and to write a book about psychology in the 21 st century."

Henderson replies, "That sounds sensible enough."

Hugo says, "You will then recommend me for chair of the department."

Henderson says, "Consider it a done deal Hugo."

Hugo says, "The only thing you will remember about this conversation is that you came in here to tell me of your plans."

Henderson says, "Well now that I've done that I'll be going. Thanks for listening Hugo."

Hugo nods and Henderson leaves.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"That's... good." My voice trails off somewhat as I examine the list of names and the brief analysis that accompanies each one. I suppose I can't blame the government for wanting to keep track of certain individuals who have our kind of power, but, on a personal level, it's a little discomforting to see my name listed just after the Silver Banshee.

I guess it's a bit more comforting to know that the only copy of the list is in the League's possession right now, but even then, does the government not have the responsibility to have this kind of information? We'll all have to talk about it later, and invite Pete in on the discussion. At the very least, it will be good to see him again after all these years.

"Hm?" Something catches my attention and I can tell that the Atom notices. Before she can ask what it is, I tell her, "Sounds like a jet on approach, but it's... muffled." For lack of a better term. The noise of the aircraft is hard to describe. It's quiet, like I'm hearing it, but at the same time, it's as if I'm not. To add to the growing concern, I can't see the jet when I look outside with X-ray vision.

Is this a surprise attack or a friendly visitor?

We touch down in a small camouflaged hangar inside the mountain base at Happy Harbor, and something feels.......wrong. Things are quiet enough, there are no intruder alarms or power offline, but still, there's a certain unease in the air, a feeling in the back of my mind that tells me things are not as they seem.

"Wait here a moment," I say to Donna. "I want to make certain this place is safe."

"I thought you said we'd have friends here," Donna says uneasily.

"There are friends here, yes. Still......something's not right. Just.....stay here while I check. You might want to keep the engine running."

Donna nods, obviously annoyed that she's being told to wait behind. Still, if I've taken her into my care, the last thing I want to do is put her in danger immediately. I hope that it it's merely a sense of oddly maternal paranoia.

I step out of the invisible jet and make my way down the hallways of the Justice League's headquarters. The closer I get, the stronger the feeling of uncertain wrongness grows stronger, the gods warning me of some danger within these halls.

There's another feeling, too, that grows stronger and stronger: fatigue. With each step I grow more tired, the weight of so many weeks since the death of Steve Trevor, the battles against Kobra, the fight with Cheetah.....all of it starts to wear away at me. I have been holding tightly to my powers for so long with no release, no rest.....

.....not even any sleep.

Suddenly, the one thing I want more in the world is just to stop and rest. Catch my breath. Let everything go just for a moment, so I can refresh myself and renew my quests invigorated.

Maybe if I just lie down for a moment.

As my eyes grow heavy, I let the power of the gods slip away......



"Diana? Hey, Prince, you okay?"

"........Steve?"

I'm back in the passenger's seat of our pickup truck, driving down the interstate.

"You were going on about something, a cheetah or something. You all right?"

"I'm fine, I......I must have dozed off."

"Well, I'm glad you're awake. We're nearly back home. Your mom and dad are going to be glad to see you, and they can't wait to meet Donna."

As soon as Steve says the name, I'm aware of her presence in the back seat. She looks to be pleased with herself, an inner peace about her that I hadn't seen before.

"They're going to let me stay, right?"

"Of course. It'll be great--we'll all be one big happy family."

I look at Steve and Donna, and I smile, sighing contentedly.

No attacks.

No Kobra.

No Cheetah.

That was all far away, a dream of a dream.

We're going home now.

As one big happy family.

The Atom cuts on a another set of monitors and sensors and sees Wonder Woman enter from the hidden hanger.

She says, "It's Wonder Woman Superman. I'll cancel the Yellow-Alert. Gotta ask her about her entrances. Even when she is doing stealth she is really cool!"

The Atom floats away from the control panel and cuts off the monitors and sensors.

She says, "I guess we should go greet her."

Just then The Atom is overcome with a sense of being very drowsy. To the point where she is finding it difficult to stay hovering.

She lands on a crate and says, "I guess I'm still kinda tired. I was half-asleep when you came here and now that the adrenaline is wearing off it's...."

The Atom yawns and stretches. She says, "Sorry about that Superman. I am really sorry about that....I've got no idea what's going on with me. I...I...think...I need to....lay down for a...moment..."

With that the tiny heroine begins swaying back and forth and eventually falls over sound asleep.

She wakes up as Rhiannon Palmer in a queen size bed. Rhiannon notices she's wearing the familiar Blue & White jersey of the Gotham Knight's QB J.J. McIntyre.

Rhiannon exclaims, "AHHHHH!"

WHAT THE???? Oh please tell me that I'm not having a replay of the morning after at the Alpha Beta house!

Rhiannon jumps out of bed and looks around the room

Although I can never recall the AB house looking this nice. No beer cans laying around or the smell of pot or porno on the walls. Never been here before but it feels familiar. Last thing I remember I was The Atom falling asleep in front of Superman and then...

Just then there is a knock at the door and a voice on the other side asks, "Rhiannon? Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Rhiannon stares at the door for a moment and is stunned.

No that can't be. That's impossible! He's supposed to be....

There is another knock and the voice again asks, "Rhiannon?"

She says, "Dad?"

The door opens and her father Thomas Palmer enters the room.

Her eyes grow huge and her mouth slowly opens.

Rhiannon says, "Dad. You're not supposed to be here."

Thomas says, "Oh really? I paid the mortgage off last month I should think I've got the right to live in my own house."

Rhiannon says, "No no you died of cancer about 5 years ago."

Thomas replies, "Really?" He shakes his head and says, "Your mom should've known better than to allow Pamela Isley to throw you that Batchelorette Party. You two get together your mom and I spend the next month scouting You-Tube for videos of you two."

Rhiannon dashes over and throws her arms around her father and says, "I've missed you dad! I've missed you!"

Thomas returns the embrace and says, "It's okay Rhiannon. It's okay you're getting married in four days I guess the stress is getting to you. It'll be okay sweetheart."

Rhiannon says, "Yeah you're right I...wait a minute Batchelorette party? Married?"

She backs way and looks down at ring finger on her left hand. She sees a sizable diamond and says, "WHOA! Dad I..."

Just then her mother enters the room and asks, "Rhiannon, Thomas is everything all-right?"

Rhiannon says, "Mom! You're not in hiding anymore!" .

She runs and embraces Alice

Alice replies returning the embrace slowly, "I was just finishing some last minute details for the wedding. I wouldn't call that being in hiding."

Rhiannon replies, "No no mom I mean Waller what about her?"

Alice looks at her strangely back away form the embrace and says, "Waller?" she then looks at Thomas and asks, "Should we start checking you-Tube?"

Thomas shakes his head slowly and says, "Rhiannon did you have a nightmare or something?"

She steps away from her parents smiling and says, "Yeah I guess I did. It's so great seeing you two again."

Alice and Thomas just look at each other for a moment. Alice looks to her and says, "Tell us about this dream of yours."

Rhiannon tells them everything. From the death of Thomas all the way through being at Justice League headquarters.

Thomas says, "Very interesting Rhiannon. if you showed half of that creativity at Gotham U you could've gotten a Masters or even a PHD eventually. Instead of majoring in as you call it alcoholic studies."

Rhiannon asks, "What?"

Alice says, "You got a B-S in communications Rhiannon. You and Pamela partied your way through the 4 years you were there and you got under the heading of Thank you Lord. You work in the Gotham Knights media relations department. You can thank your dad for getting you that internship that turned into the job you have now."

Thomas says, "Being the head coach and the 3 time Super Bowl winning QB for the franchise does have it's perks. Although everyone says you've really made the job your own and you're doing just great."

Alice continues, "Not to mention he also introduced you to your finance."

Rhiannon says, "I know this is gonna sound really dumb, but and maybe it's the effects of my nightmare but..."

Thomas says, "Look at your jersey. J-J McIntyre. You're starting to worry me sweetheart."

Rhiannon falls back on the bed and is trying to take it all in. She smiles for a moment and shrugs her shoulders and says, "Okay then so what's on the schedule?"

Alice says, "First you get dressed. Then get downstairs Rosa has breakfast ready for you then we have to get one last fitting at Maurice's."

Rhiannon smiles and nods as her parents leave the room.

Well well. No more shrinking, no more board meetings, no more career hoping, and no more Government interfering with me. Yep Rhiannon...you finally got it all!

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Cairo, Egypt


One of the oldest sections of the city, Islamic Cairo was founded over a thousand years ago and shows its age. This part of the city is one of the most dilapidated and overcrowded, with countless numbers of Muslims living in squalor. It's probably the best place in the whole city for the agents of Jihad to hide.

I stick out like a sore thumb as I walk through the busy and cramped streets. People watch me as I pass, they're sizing me up to see what exactly someone like me is doing in their part of town. The rest of the search team are all spread out through the neighborhood. Lawton is a block over while Nemesis and Turner search on the other side of the section.

"Nemesis to Flag, come in."

I look around to make sure nobody is too close before I start to talk into the microphone imbedded in my back right molar.

"You got a lead?"

"Yeah. Just got a text from a CIA buddy of mine. Ravan was spotted leaving a building just ten minutes ago. You and Deadshot are closer."

"You hearing this, Lawton?"

"Of course."

"Meet me at the end of the block and we'll head over. Nemesis and Turner can meet up with us at the building."

"We'll meet you there. Let me give you the address..."

Lawton and I rendezvous and head over to the building. Turns out that it's a small motel. I slip the desk clerk a few hundred American dollars and find the room that Ravan is staying in and the key.

Lawton stands beside the door, pulling his guns out from their holsters as I open the door with my own gun out.

"Room appears to be clear," I say as I head in. The small motel room is filled with scraps of paper, cups, and food wrappers. Nemesis and Turner arrive shortly afterwards. A closed laptop is sitting on the unkempt bed.

"Let's spread out and see what we can find."

I pick up the laptop and open it while Turner and Lawton begin to look through the mess in the room. Nemesis walks around with a small digital camera and takes pictures.

"His computer appears to be password protected."

"I think I can take care of that," says as he walks over and plucks the computer out of my hands. He pulls out a jump drive and places the stick into the computer's USB port. The stick whirls and whines for several seconds before the password prompt on the screen vanishes and is replaced by the desktop.

"This little jump drive is like a mobile virus. Runs through thousands of algorithm in seconds. Any conceivable password, it'll crack it eventually. Neat trick, huh?

"Yeah, can't wait for that to show up in the Sharper Image catalog."

"Let's see what we got here."

Nemesis types away on the keyboard, pulling up files and documents all written in Arabic.

"Goddammit....we need to leave right now."

"What'd you find?"

"An email from Ravan to his boss, Rustam."

Nemesis takes out the decrypter and puts another jump drive in it's place. He transfers as many files as he can to the jump drive before pulling it out.

"The attempt on Farook's life is going down in two hours at a rally for Farook."

I curse under my breath and turn to Lawton and Turner.

"Somebody call Faraday. Looks like our two teams are merging into one."

 

[Spike_x1]

I've got to do something. Even if I don't have my legs, I can still distract them.

"Alright, listen up."

I know that voice. It's Lenny Snart. Captain Cold.

No, it's not. Captain Cold doesn't exist, Flash doesn't exist. You're just some cripple who barely manages to push his wheelchair down the sidewalk.

"We want money, we want jewels. Hand 'em over, now."

Snart....or whoever it is, turns around as a police officer comes in the door.

"Police! Put the guns down now!"

No....it's....it's dad.

Snart and his partner turn around and aim for my dad. I know what's going to happen, and I try to push my chair as fast as I can across the floor towards them. I can go faster than this, much faster. Those guns would be in pieces if I had my speed.

What speed, kid? You never had speed. You were always too slow. That's why that car ran you over and you ended up having to get your legs cut off. Always too slow.

Time seems to slow down to a crawl as I watch the bullets explode from Snart's gun and rip through my father's chest. He crumples to the ground, blood pouring out of him and staining the marble floors of the bank.

"NOOOO!"

I could have saved him....but I was just too slow.

Always too slow.

It doesn't have to be that way. Put an end to this corruption before it really does come to that, for you or anyone else unfortunate enough to be the victim ever again.

The dark voice whispers at the back of Bart Allen's mind like a soothing shadow on a hot summer day. All doubts about the voice's words and arguments against its point of view seem to fade away, while it provides a feeling of comfort and reason.

An epiphany, even a sense of inspiration comes to the young mind of the Flash.

It's almost as if a feeling of euphoria overwhelms him whenever the thoughts run through his subconsciousness.

Now, whispers the voice of the doctor, it's time to wake up, especially after such a good night's sleep.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

It doesn't have to be that way. Put an end to this corruption before it really does come to that, for you or anyone else unfortunate enough to be the victim ever again.

The dark voice whispers at the back of Bart Allen's mind like a soothing shadow on a hot summer day. All doubts about the voice's words and arguments against its point of view seem to fade away, while it provides a feeling of comfort and reason.

An epiphany, even a sense of inspiration comes to the young mind of the Flash.

It's almost as if a feeling of euphoria overwhelms him whenever the thoughts run through his subconsciousness.

Now, whispers the voice of the doctor, it's time to wake up, especially after such a good night's sleep.

I jerk awake and stand up from my desk, looking around my room for my Flash suit. Nap time's over. Time to get back to work. The world's in peril and they need someone to help.

All those out there who can't fend for themselves need someone. I find my suit and slip it on, sliding my feet into the boots and preparing to go. I look off to the side and nod at the six-foot lizard lurking in the far corner of my room.

"Wish me luck, Chet."

"Why don't you stay here for awhile, Bart? Get some coffee. You know it always wakes you up."

"No time, Chet. People need me. Now if you're done talking...I gotta run!"

I take off and race out of my room and out of the house, running down the streets of Central City so fast I'm a blur.

 

[Byrd Man]

Tahrir Square
Cairo, Egypt


Fahim Farook walks across the makeshift stage to address the crowd gathered in the square. They applaud as he steps up the podium. Farook begins to speak. While he speaks, I navigate through the crowd and watch the people listening. Before the speech is done, someone here in the crowd is going to try to kill the man who is will probably be the next president of Egypt.

"Flag to squad," I mumble under my breath. "Need a sit-rep. Everyone check in."

"Bronze Tiger here. No sign of Ravan or the Burnt Man yet."

"Nemesis to Flag. No joy from me."

"Are you in position yet, Lawton?"

"You betcha. I've got my scope zeroed in on Farook's snipers. None of them look like our guys."

"Well, make sure to keep your eyes on them while you scan the crowd. Jihad may have made one of them to turn."

I keep searching the crowd. Most of them are listening to Farook with either rapt attention, or paying attention enough to get the key points of what he's saying.

"Psi, report Are you picking up any thoughts."
"I'm..trying, Flag. There are too many people here. It's too loud to hear one individual's thought."

I curse under my breath and look around again. Still nothing but civilians.

"Hold up, I may have something. Big guy is coming into the crowd on my right. He looks to be about Ravan's height. There's a hat covering his head, can't see his face."

I push my way through the crowd, trying to get towards the spot where the man is.
"Nemesis, Tiger, do you have eyes on him?"

"I see him....he's a match, Colonel."

"Lawton, can you take the shot?"

"Sure....as long as you don't mind I shoot through a few civilians to do it."

"Hold you fire. I repeat, hold you fire. Turner, head towards him. We'll try to take him in the noise of the crowd."

I keep pushing through until I see Ravan. He has a slight smile on his face as he watches Farook.

"Psi, I need you to zero in on one guy. Tell me what's going through his head?"

"I don't know...too many ambient thoughts are bouncing around."

"Focus, Gayle, focus right now. We need this."

"I...I'm trying.....I-Ahhh!"

Psi's screech fills the channel with feedback. I flinch and dig at my earpiece, trying to pull the earpiece out before I go deaf. The screech suddenly stops.

"What the hell just happened?"

"I think my right ear's bleeding."

"Psi...Psi! Are you alright? Report. Psi!"

"I...I'm alright," she gets out. "There's a bomb....under the stage."

Cursing under my breath, I look around. Depending on the size of that bomb, Farook and at least a dozen people are going to be taken out by it.

"Alright, people. New plan. We have to clear the square as soon as possible. Lawton, get your rifle and prepare to shoot Farook's snipers on my orders. No suppressor. Turner and I are going for Ravan. Everyone else, try not to get trampled. Lawton, make sure you shoot to wound."

"I'm going to try. I can't make any promises I won't hit a major artery."

"Try isn't in your vocabulary, especially when you have a bomb stuck in your head."

"Jesus, it's just a joke. Firing away."

Two rifle cracks cut through the air. On cue, panic begins to overtake the crowd. The people begin to scatter and Farook is suddenly rushed off stage by his security guards. I muscle my way through the panicked masses, pulling my gun out and holding it by my leg as I walk.

Ravan pulls a small remote out of his pocket. I curse and pull my gun up, aiming at the assassin's hand. Before I can squeeze off a shot, a gloved hand smacks my gun out of my grip and sends it scattering. A man with a bandaged face stabs at my midsection with a knife. I step back and suck my stomach in. The knife cuts into my shirt and barely scrapes my abs. I reach out and grab the Burnt Man's arm, flipping him to the ground.

"No time for you."

I turn towards Ravan just in time to see Turner grabbing him by the wrist and grabbing the remote. Turner breaks the remote in two and karate chops Ravan in the chest in one swift motion. The terrorist stumbles backwards and Turner charges him. I turn back to the Burnt Man, who is gone from the ground. The bandaged man's back hand comes in from the side and knocks me to the ground.

"C'mon, Flag," the Burnt Man rasps. "Get up and fight me, you ****ing coward."

The voice....I know that voice. It's raspy, like the voice of a heavy smoker, but it's still the same voice.

His voice.

"Blaine?"

He laughs and kicks me in the ribs.

"What's the matter, Flag? No love for you old Staff Sergeant?"
​

 

[Belvedere]

FOUR MONTHS AGO

An elderly man cradling a handgun between his wrinkled hands clears his throat and attempts to fight back the tears that have begun to collect around his eyes. He raises one of his feeble arms and with the sleeve of his now dishevelled dressing gown wipes them away defiantly. In front of him sits the man that Neron had sent to murder him, the man that he had looked over his shoulder for these past two years on the run, Nathan Heywood. There was very little that he was sure of at his age, very few certainties in life, that Neron would eventually find him was one of the few.

"Are you sure I can't tempt you?"

He spluttered as he reached for a glass of whiskey on the table beside him. Nathan watched as the man took several mouthfuls before slamming it back on the table and pouring himself another glass. Once upon a time Heywood would have found it impossible to turn the offer down, once upon a time he would have done anything for the warm embrace of that brown liquid.

"It's good stuff."

"I don't drink."
​

The elderly man shrugged his shoulders and slumped back into his seat with an impassive look. He looked around the room emptily as he attempted to remember where he had left off, before nodding to himself and clearing his throat.

"Twelve men and nine women I murdered on behalf of the Neron Group. Each one of them worked for the Group themselves at one point or another, each one of them had been suckered into signing away their souls. Sooner or later, not that I can remember when, I finally got tired of all the murder..."

Outwardly Nathan remained unmoved. On the inside however he slowly began to understand the gravity of what he had entered into. The five men he had been instructed to murder had not been bad men, they had not been murderers or rapists, but simply tools of the Neron Group that had outlived their usefulness.

"... I knew this day would come eventually."

His name was Robert Mathers.

Heywood would know him simply as Number Six.

NOW

The deed was done. Number thirteen had been eliminated, Heywood could rest easy until he recieved word from Neron.

As he walked through the door of his apartment he yawned tiredly and threw off his shirt, discarding it on the floor and heading towards the bedroom; as he flicked the light switch on he was startled as to what who he saw, sat on his bed with a busted lip and a black eye.

"Hello Nathan."

His ex-wife Roxanne shuffled her feet awkwardly and ran her slender fingers through her platinum blonde hair as she said it.

For the first time in what seemed like years, Nathan could feel his heart-rate racing and the blood rushing to his face. His fists were clenched so tightly that his short and well-groomed nails were almost breaking the skin.

"It wasn't his fault...." she started, unconvincingly.

Heywood opened the door to the closet in his bedroom and from it grabbed a jacket which he threw on, zipping it up quickly before rooting around inside the closet for a couple of seconds and revealing a red aluminum baseball bat. He pointed at Roxanne and, with next to no emotion in his voice at all, spat out the following words.

"If I'm not back in an hour and a half, call the police."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Hugo receives official confirmation of his nomination to be the chair of the department.

He gives a smile during the faculty luncheon, acts surprised, and says all the right things about what he'll do if elected.

As the applause washes over him Hugo says, "My fellow colleagues the most important thing to remember is this I'm one of you and honored to be here."

Hugo begins reading the room and making mental notes of who will be the next to go when he is elected.