The New Ultimate DC RPG

[Byrd Man]

Sage. Gun shoved in my face. Accusing me of being Holiday.

"Listen, Vic...just put the gun down and we can talk."

"I'm not putting this gun down until I get some answers....where were you Friday?"

Friday afternoon...on 3rd Street, following Barbara Gordon. Watching her hanging out with friends. After leaving Sage Friday night, went down to the East End...found a hooker with red hair. Paid her $50 to call herself Barbara and go down on me. Track marks on her arm ruined it...couldn't finish.

"I was working on my regular cases."

"Bull****. You're obsessed with Holiday, you probably haven't worked on regular cases in months."

"I can't tell you what I was doing...just believe me when I say it's all related."

"Why is your car in the shop?"

"It was ran into the mall."

"Wait...I remember that. That was you?"

"I wasn't driving."

"Who was."

"Officer Kyle."

"Who?"

"Officer Selina Kyle. She's undercover inside the Maroni mob. We were fighting an assassin named Deadshot Gordon sent after us."

"You two were fighting off a hitman hired by the police commissioner?"

"No. Batman fought him."

"Oh, great. Now Batman is involved. Listen to yourself, Nygma. You're talking about conspiracy and fighting the mob, and Holiday."

"It's true. Batman didn't kill John Grayson."

Sage tenses up. Case was his before I got it. Does he know?

"He was Batman's partner in the GCPD. His leak, I'm his leak now."

"Why were you in the insane asylum all those years ago?"

Change of topic throws me off my game. Swallow hard...don't want to do this.

"I had a nervous breakdown when I was working for a small police department in Kentucky named-"

"Beaver Dam. I talked with their chief of police. Seemed like a straight forward fellow...didn't have too much to say about you."

"I ****ed up in that job big time...I started right after my father died. I started drinking and had a breakdown. They diagnosed me with-"

"Bipolar/Manic Depressive. I got the file from the state hospital. You're supposed to take medication for it."

"I do...but alcohol interferes with the medicine...can leave my thoughts a bit loopy."

Jagged. Chopped. Diced. And paranoid to boot.

"So you go off your meds and start killing people?"

"No! I haven't killed anyone. I've killed one man...that was when I swore not to do it again."

"You mean John Randolph Leeds aka-"

"The Hangman Killer. Yep. It's been almost ten years since I killed him on that raid into his apartment. I've secretly suspected he wasn't the killer. I pray that I'm right...then again I pray that I'm wrong. I also killed someone else, indirectly...but I'm still responsible for it."

"Keep going."

"Another time, Sage. Right now, I got somewhere I need to go...so you either arrest me for being Holiday or get the **** outta my way."

Sage eyes me. The gun lowers, I sidestep and head out the door.

"Keep me updated about Holiday. He's the key to it all. The whole house of cards falls when he's arrested."
​

 

[Batman]

Turning on my heels, I point towards the two Earthmen.

"You and you, you are my first two volunteers."
The one called Rayner nods, while Jordan looks taken aback.

"We'll see if you are worthy to use Abin Sur's ring, Earthman."

Sinestro, they called him. While Jordan didn't quite know what to think of this guy yet, he definitely made quite the first impression. It was one thing to point out how he needed to earn the right to use Abin Sur's ring, since Hal had already placed that expectation on himself when it chose him. But to then turn around and order his own squadron at a time like this, one of over five hundred different Lanterns, took some serious guts. Either Sinestro knew exactly what he was doing, or he was going to get the rest of the Corps killed.

For some reason, Hal liked that. A guy who could maintain his own in the face of adversity was something that he could respect. Hesitant, Jordan eventually nodded. "Fine by me. And it's Hal, by the way, not 'Earthman'. Hal Jordan."

Sinestro scoffed, not particularly caring of this. Jordan looked towards the rookie that had flown in, noticing that Lantern Sallak had stated that he was also from Earth. He honestly didn't think he'd ever see another recruit from his sector among the ranks, but it was at least comforting to know that there was at least someone who didn't have tentacles coming out of their face, or a fin sticking out of their head. Maybe this won't be such a rough patch, after all.

Sticking his hand out to the fellow human, Jordan gave him a friendly smirk. "Don't believe we've met before... Rayner, is it?"

 

[Byrd Man]

Dreams playing on a reel:

Umberto Maroni's blood on my hands. His severed head staring at me. Five bodies hanging by nooses: O'Hara, Sol, Hill, Pino Maroni, Day, and Flass. Cocaine snowing from the sky. Selina and Barbara Gordon kissing with their naked bodies pressed together. Vic Sage, watching from the shadows....without a face. Mom and Dad, dead. Her death an OD of pills...his death from neglect in the state hospital. Crucified Flass laughing. Shadow of the bat falls on it all. HOLIDAY! HOLIDAY! HOLIDAY!!!!

"Ahh!"

Snap upright in my bed. Still wearing yesterday's clothes. Bottle of whiskey by my feet. Phone buzzes in my pocket. Vibrating. Pull it out.

"Hello?"

"Where the **** have you been?"

"Working, Sal. There's a serial killer on the loose."

"Don't give me that horse****. You work for me, Nygma. I say jump, you ask how high. I say suck my ****, you're on your knees and pulling down my pants."

"Okay, okay. What's the plan....boss?"

"My office downtown in a half hour. I think I got a rat in my organization."
​

 

[Catman_prb]

Sinestro, they called him. While Jordan didn't quite know what to think of this guy yet, he definitely made quite the first impression. It was one thing to point out how he needed to earn the right to use Abin Sur's ring, since Hal had already placed that expectation on himself when it chose him. But to then turn around and order his own squadron at a time like this, one of over five hundred different Lanterns, took some serious guts. Either Sinestro knew exactly what he was doing, or he was going to get the rest of the Corps killed.

For some reason, Hal liked that. A guy who could maintain his own in the face of adversity was something that he could respect. Hesitant, Jordan eventually nodded. "Fine by me. And it's Hal, by the way, not 'Earthman'. Hal Jordan."

Sinestro scoffed, not particularly caring of this. Jordan looked towards the rookie that had flown in, noticing that Lantern Sallak had stated that he was also from Earth. He honestly didn't think he'd ever see another recruit from his sector among the ranks, but it was at least comforting to know that there was at least someone who didn't have tentacles coming out of their face, or a fin sticking out of their head. Maybe this won't be such a rough patch, after all.

Sticking his hand out to the fellow human, Jordan gave him a friendly smirk. "Don't believe we've met before... Rayner, is it?"

"Well you're one of the few people I've met with the right number of eyes, so you can call me Kyle," Rayner said, taking the hand and shaking it firmly.

He looked at the pink skinned maverick who'd be leading them into battle in a few short hours time, rubbing his forehead.

"Sinestro's a real dick, huh?" he said "Still, he's not nearly as bad as Hand is. Last time I encountered him I only got saved because of a particularly tenacious Star Sapphire,"

Rayner's thoughts strayed back to Katma Tui, whose whereabouts he had lost track of after he was declared suitable for active service.

"Now there was a girl who could pull off pink,"

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Suicide Slum

I sit back in my seat gazing at the computer screen, at another unsuccessful attempt to hack Luthor’s computer system. The technology here at this base isn’t high-tech enough for me to complete my task. It would be a lot easier for me to do such a job at my base of operations at Mt. Rushmore but that isn’t an option. If I’m going to receive any Intel on Luthor I’m going to have to go to the source, LexCorp.

With Luthor’s smart dust around the city he could easily detect my power signature, but I have the solution for such situations. I get up from the my chair and head over to the wall on the opposite end. I press my hand on the wall slightly and a hidden department opens up revealing some weapons and a small container. I grab the container and close the department and walk back to my seat.

I sit in my chair and open the container and there are some pills inside. They may appear to be ordinary tablets but they are far from it. These pills will take my powers away for 2 hours giving me enough time to sneak into LexCorp undetected to obtain the information I need on him.

Along with the pills I’m also going to need something to hack the alarm systems and something to bypass the security locks. I believe I can construct something within a couple of seconds.

Metropolis (Outside LexCorp)

With all of the security guards and security camera surrounding LexCorp I thought it would at least be some what of a challenge for me to infiltrate his building. Once at the door I raise my wrist next to the security lock pad. On my wrist is a new and improve watch that I develop to override the security locks. The light flash green identifying it is now safe for me to enter. As I enter I move towards the nearest corner and kneel down by the edge of a wall to conceal myself. While here I press a few commands on the watch. First thing I did was put all of the camera footage on a loop to make my job that much easier. Next I pull up the blue prints for this tower.

A 3D image appears out of the watch showing my location and also my ending point, the computer mainframe. From there I’ll be able to access any computer in this building that is connected to the wireless network or even has the wireless network function.

Even without my powers I make it to the mainframe undetected and within a reasonable amount of time. As I make my way to the computer I pull out a drive stick and begin to get to work.​

 

[Green Lantern]

Dick looked at himself in the mirror, and realized how ridiculous he looked. So before leaving the penthouse, he threw a trenchcoat on over his new 'uniform'. Then, Dick slowly opened his door, until he could clearly hear the sound of Ms. Cooper snoring one room over. Quickly he ran through the apartment and silently shut the front door behind him. He got into the elevator and rode it straight down, past the garage to the lobby. Not gonna risk another joyride, Wayne's on to me.

As he ran through the streets, dressed as odd as he was, he couldn't help but think he needed a better way to travel through town. He took a taxi to Chinatown, and as he got out, he left the trenchcoat with a nearby beggar.

"Hey thanks man."

"Don't mention it."

After creeping to the shadows for several hours, Dick finally found what he was looking for. He saw a Triad thug pull up to an alley in a black van. Dick looked around, and saw a nearby fire escape, that was taller than the building right near the alley with the van. He quickly and silently scampered up the ladder that was hanging just within his reach and within a minute he was on the roof of the building, looking at the fire escape right above the thug.

That'll be perfect. Here goes nothing.

Dick took a running head start and dived headlong across the gap in buildings, aiming to land on the fire escape above the arms deal that was taking place. As he flew through the air, he couldn't help but think that this looked easier in the movies. He really thought that when he slammed ribs first into the metal bars, having misjudged his jump. He hung on for dear life, as he heard the two men below him begin questioning the noise above their heads.

"What was that?"

"Looks like we got ourselves a peeping tom."

Dick heard a hammer cock back below him as he struggled to pull himself into a little more cover. The pain in his already hurt ribs was excruciating, but as Dick heard the first gunshot fire, he found motivation to use every last bit of his strength to pull himself up. Suddenly he was covered by the metal floor and bars of the fire escape landing. Thank god he has the aim of a stormtrooper.

Dick quickly scaled the rest of the wall to the roof of this building, and once out of sight of the men, he dug out the shuriken from his belt. Contrary to popular belief, Dick knew that the throwing stars were not primarily used to kill, but rather maim the opponent, often aiming at a limb or appendage rather than for a kill shot. He heard commotion on the fire escape and readied himself for the men as they climbed the steel ladders.

The first man's head appeared over the horizon of the building, and Dick let loose the throwing star. As the sharp steel points ripped into the flesh of his knuckles, the Triad man screamed in agony. The gun fell from his hand clattering noisily on the street below. With the star embedded in his right hand, now pouring blood, the man held on for dear life with his left hand, trying desperately to ignore the pain shooting through his other arm. Dick ran over to the hanging man, and looked down at his agonized face, his partner had dropped to the fire escape landing, knowing that he'd better not wait for the other man to fall, and as Dick's face appeared above him, he cursed in Japanese and fired three shots at the teenager. Again his aim was poor and two of the three shots went into the back of his partner. The man fell to the landing, all the life gone from his eyes, as the two rounds pierced his heart. As his friend looked up again, Dick was gone, again.

 

[Batman]

"Sinestro's a real dick, huh?" he said "Still, he's not nearly as bad as Hand is. Last time I encountered him I only got saved because of a particularly tenacious Star Sapphire,"

Rayner's thoughts strayed back to Katma Tui, whose whereabouts he had lost track of after he was declared suitable for active service.

"Now there was a girl who could pull off pink,"

Hal looked back at Sinestro, who was going over the constructs of the attack formation and carefully memorizing every detail. The man wanted to be precise, that much was sure. Jordan just didn't realize that his first assignment as a fully-fledged Corpsman would end up being apart of a suicide mission. Which by all accounts, from the way it seemed, it was turning out to be.

"Having ever met Sinestro before, I'm sure he's just... stressed. Can't really blame him, for that."

With a smirk, Jordan looked back at Kyle. There was something about the young cadet that he was beginning to like, even though they had literally met just seconds earlier. "Those Star Sapphires sound pretty interesting, though. Seems like one already rubbed off on you in quite the big way."

 

[Byrd Man]

Maroni's office: Sal reeks of Bourbon. I reek of Jack Daniels. Match made in heaven.

"Why the **** haven't you been doing your job?"

"I didn't think my services were needed by you recently..."

"Your services-....do you know what the **** is going on in this goddamn city? I'm fighting a ****ing war against those Jap mother****ing Triads in Chinatown....and losing! Both my sons gone. Umberto missing, good as dead, and Pino killed by the Holiday finnochio. The ****ing Bat is killing my business, and top it off there's another masked ****sucker out there. He's already absorbed Black Mask and Carl Grissoms' people and rackets."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"The fact that you could have used your resources in the GCPD to arrest these Triad ****s, find out where Umberto's body is, and make an attempt to find out who's took out Black Mask and Grissom. You wanna know why you didn't?"

"Please, humor me."

Sal slides something across the desk. Photos. Me and Selina meeting, me and Selina in her apartment embracing. Me and Selina meeting....with Batman.

"You're dead. She's dead. And when I get my hands on the Bat, he's dead. You double-crossing ****."

Maroni pulls out a shotgun from behind the desk. Footsteps behind me, Toots with a pistol. Pull my gun fast, tag Maroni in the shoulder. Swing around, headbutt Toots in the stomach. Grab his pistol and pistol whip his forehead. Both distracted and down.

Run to the door. Have to warn Selina. Have to get in contact with Batman.
​

 

[Bounce]

"Kneel before ZOD!"

The words are uttered in Kryptonese, spoken by a treble voice as an unquestionable command though the person delivering the challenge is a poor example of statesmanship. The sandy haired child held his head high as he looked down on his subject, hand outstretched with a finger emphatically pointing down as though to further demonstrate his superiority. There's a plaintive whine, as the white furred canine just stares back at the boy. The tapered ears tilt to the front, then flatten against the top of the dog's head as it gives a snort and sits down on its haunches. But its master is not impressed.

"No! Don't sit," the youth objects, padding over to the animal to correct its posture. Lifting the dog's haunches, the boy pushed the canine down on its front paws. "Kne--" the boy repeated, only to be interrupted by insubordination from his minion. The canine's wet nose tapped against the child's face, tongue lapping at his face as the dog rebelled against its oppressor with a furious licking. A litany of childish laughter haunts the empty landscape around the pair, ghostly blurs shadowing the motions as the two begin to dart back and forth in pursuit of one another. They were both form without substance, little more than ghosts.

For most, the Phantom Zone was a hell of non-corporeal and non-linear existance that could stress the perceptions of the mind into a spiral of madness. To Lor-Zod, it was the only existance that he knew of. He'd heard stories of the universe and galaxies which existed in a reality outside of this one, but such were his bedtime stories and seemed no less like fairy tales. Grand tales of conquest and battles involving the noble warriors of Krypton that his father led, interplanetary intrigue and politics spanning the stars with jealousy of his father's greatness. And of course every great story had in it a great evil. The villainous Jor-El was the Mordred to his father's Arthur, the honorless black knight that had felled the great soldier through petty machinations, fear, and cheap jealousy. But his father would return, would fight the just battle to unite the universe under the banner of Krypton and the crest of the House of Zod. And in so save the universe from the evil of people like Jor-El.

"KNEEL BEFORE ZOD,"

The child-wraith is stopped short by the words. Familiar words and, though he'd heard them spoken with authority his whole life, he'd never heard them said with such ferocity before. Had something happened? Had his father discovered a way to rejoin the galactic battle in the plane that was known as reality? Curious and unafraid, the child quickly moved through the ether to rejoin his parent's ship, with Krypto close behind, where he would see for himself what had drawn the ire of Zod.

 

[Catman_prb]

Hal looked back at Sinestro, who was going over the constructs of the attack formation and carefully memorizing every detail. The man wanted to be precise, that much was sure. Jordan just didn't realize that his first assignment as a fully-fledged Corpsman would end up being apart of a suicide mission. Which by all accounts, from the way it seemed, it was turning out to be.

"Having ever met Sinestro before, I'm sure he's just... stressed. Can't really blame him, for that."

With a smirk, Jordan looked back at Kyle. There was something about the young cadet that he was beginning to like, even though they had literally met just seconds earlier. "Those Star Sapphires sound pretty interesting, though. Seems like one already rubbed off on you in quite the big way."

"You've obviously never met one. There's something about a spacegirl in a two piece that really helps the healing process," he said, the large cut on the side of his face dribbling some blood.

He rolled his eyes. Due to the massive shortage of Lanterns, none of them had had any down time since the attack on Oa. And by downtime, this included non-urgent medical treatment, which was starting to irritate Kyle. Sure, he'd been on a ventilator after taking a beating from Hand, but he'd also taken a beating from the numerous Red Lanterns that he'd tracked down since the battle on Oa. He wondered breifly in the amount of action he'd served in the past few days would mean an instant promotion.

"Hey Killowog, don't suppose you feel up to sacrifcing your life in a futile diversionary attack?" Rayner said, bouyed by false cheer.

The Honour Lantern laughed.

"Good luck poozers," he said, walking away from them.

"Well that sounds promising. What, is this the first and last moment of glory for the Sinestro Corps?"

 

[Catman_prb]

Apokolips

Granny Goodness swatted the head of one of her many underlings as they crawled around the laboratory.

"Desaad!" the old harpy shrieked. The cloaked figure hunched over the control panel turned around, glaring at the woman.

"Yes Granny?" he asked, with a well-oiled charm.

"How long?" she hissed, as the many underlings scrabbled about on the ground, soldering wires and circuit boards. One group was working on what looked like a long metal arm with a satellite dish on the end of it.

"Not long now," he said with an infernal patience, as he turned back to the control panel "A few minutes at most,"

There was a crash as the door to the laboratory was blasted open. A dozen emerald clad men swarmed into the room. The Green Lanterns spread out into a circle, restraining the guards who had moved away from their positions at the door. Granny hissed and backed away from the inter-galactic policemen and towards Desaad.

"Granny Goodness, you are accused of breaking passage Br178 of the Betearan Pact," the lead Lantern shouted, leveling his ring at the two advisors.

"Arisia, a pleasure as always," the leader of the Female Furies said pleasantly, turning to Darkseid's advisor "Desaad," she hissed.

"Done," he said, moving his hands away from the console with a satisfied grin. There was a loud humming sound and an electric blue energy ran up and down the large metal arm.

"What have you done?" Arisia snarled.

A pulse of blue energy was fired off into the space over Apokolips, blinding the eyes of all those who saw it. For a second nothing happened, and Arisia looked vaguely triumphant. Then there was a blink as the blue pulse reached it's limit, which the group saw on the viewing screen. As they watched a white expanse opened up in the blackness of space. Slowly, inch by inch, a black ship edged it's way out of the white expanse and into the space over Apokolips. Arisia's jaw dropped and Granny Goodness eyed the ship hungrily.

"Open a comms channel," she shouted to Desaad.

There was a massive burst of static and the glass roof of the laboratory was smashed into pieces. The viewers clasped their hands over their ears, screaming as the sound drilled through their heads. The glass of the viewing panel shattered, sending shards across the room. At least one Lantern collapsed to the ground bleeding from his ears, nose and eyes. Granny Goodness staggered over to the control panel, shoving Desaad out of the way.

"Turn it off!" she screamed, banging her hands on the console.

"I can't!" Desaad shouted back.

"What in the name of Oa have you done?" Arisia breathed as blood started to flow from her nose.

As quickly as the noise had started, it stopped. Darkseid's advisors looked at each other.

"Do you think it's gone?" Granny asked quietly.

The Phantom Zone

"My lord, a hole to realspace has opened ahead of us," Non said, bowing and scraping in subservience.

"Full ahead," the General said, taking his place in the command seat at the helm of the ship.

"Master, the entities are also trying to escape through the hole," Ursa said, reading the scanners on one side of the ship.

"Blast them out of the sky then!" the General growled at his concubine, who obediently ran over to the weapons console.

At first the Dominance had been manned by a full crew of Kryptonian naval personnel. However, during the years spent in the Phantom Zone more and more had steadily been killed, either by their own madness or by the forrays for food and supplies. Now there were only two soldiers left, Lieutenant Ursa and General Zod. Non was the ship's cheif medical officer and Zod's heir also tottered around the ship with the offspring of one of his war hounds.

The ship began to pull itself out of the Phantom Zone, through the hole ripped in space. Another ship appeared out of the whiteness, weapons focusing on the Dominance's engines.

"Qwardian raiding party sir," Ursa reported.

"Not now," the General growled, his eyes glinting with madness. He pressed a control on the side of his seat, taking manual control of the portside laser. One of the Kryptonian's ships cannons turned to face the Qwardians, firing repeatedly and blasting it out of existence.

The ship pulled through, a massive Kryptonian behemoth, the largest ship ever produced from the planet. But the planet that they now orbited was not Krypton, but rather a blackened industrial world.

"Sir, the planet is opening comms channels," Ursa reported.

"Non, activate the sonic disruptor," the General said coolly. The scientist nodded, operating the device that blasted hideous sound waves out into space. The origin of this weapon was not Kryptonian, instead stolen from a derelict spaceship in the Phantom Zone.

"Amplify sound,"

Apokalips

"KNEEL BEFORE ZOD,"

 

[Byrd Man]

"Hey Killowog, don't suppose you feel up to sacrifcing your life in a futile diversionary attack?" Rayner said, bouyed by false cheer.

The Honour Lantern laughed.

"Good luck poozers," he said, walking away from them.

"Well that sounds promising. What, is this the first and last moment of glory for the Sinestro Corps?"

"Glory does not matter here, Rayner."

The two Earthmen turn towards me. I give both of them hard stares.

"As I told Larfleeze, this is about surival. My plan will work. It worked for your Alexander and the Battle of Gaugamela, It worked for General George Patton in the Battle of Normandy. And it will work for the Green Lantern Corps in the Battle of Sector 666."

I turn on my heels and head towards the door.

"Report outside the Citadel in fifteen minutes, both of you."

 

[Bounce]

Meanwhile, in orbit of Apokalips...

Something amazing had happened. The child stared in awe at his hands, amazed not at their being but rather the fact that they were no longer transparent. He was physical... flesh... corporeal existance. The sensation of having his feet rooted to the ground by gravity, the weight of his body, the ebb and flow of breath in his lungs, the beating of an organ in his chest were all new experiences for him. There was a place in the Phantom Zone where physical manifestation was possible for a time, but Lor had never been there. At least, not to his knowledge. One of father's soldiers had once made the comment that Lor had been made there, but the child didn't understand his meaning. The soldier was no longer with them either. Father had said that the soldier's loyalty had failed.

Fealty and service were rewarded by father's just rule. Failure only undermined father's authority and that was unacceptable. Father was a great man to give so much and ask so little, and so simple a thing, in return. For his greatness, loyalty was the least of what was owed General Zod.

The young boy wasn't alone in his struggle to comprehend the nature of the corporeal existence that had been spontaniously thrust upon him. Beside him, Krypto huffed and whined while turning circles and nipping at the limbs where seemed so awkward in comparison to phantom grace. As the child reached out to comfort the animal, he discovered the physical sensation of touch. He could feel the animal's fur, the soft tufts brushing against the palm of his hand, and the individual hairs jutting between his fingers. The concepts had existed in the Phantom Zone, but this was tangible. This was real.

Could this be the place that father had called reality?

Having been made manifest from the ether of the Phantom Zone into which he'd been born, the child was nude but not cognizant of himself as such. He wobbled as he attempted a step in this realm of gravity and physics that was alien to him, finding balance to be a precarious concept as he stumbled and staggered through the first uncertain moments. He enjoyed the cool sensation of the cold deck plating against the sole of his feet, curling and uncurling his toes. The physical body was an undiscovered country, each moment fascinating and new.

The horizons of that brave new world were expanded as he arrived at the seat of his father's command, the viewports on the bridge showing him images beyond comprehension of one who had known only the intangible fields of ether. Giant orbs... solid glowing masses hung against a black canvas painted in points of light that shimmered and sparkled. The child stood in sheer awe of the cosmos, eyes wide open as he took in the grandeur and majesty. "Are those... the stars?" he asked breathlessly. It was the only thing they could be. He'd heard of them countless times, but it had seemed no less fantastic than the tales of Krypton or physical life that he'd been told.

As the captivated youth passed under the shadow of the massive Non, the large Kryptonian removed the black vest that he wore and dropped it over the boy's small form to veil his nakedness. The garment fitted for the gargantuan man's brutish frame was like a large robe on the child. The scientist briefly bent down to fold and cinch the vest around Lor, taking a silver triangular pin, embossed with the symbol of Zod's armada, to clasp the folds together at the boy's right hip. The hem of the vest still reached down past Lor's thighs.

Lor could only stare down at the make-shift garment, startled at the sensation of clothing against the skin. Flashing a smile up at Non, Lor showed off his newfound legs as he darted toward the dais where his father sat. Dropping to one knee, the son knelt beside the god-like figure of Zod and bowed his head dutifully. His was a fealty not of subservience but the utter devotion of a young child flawlessly demonstrating the obedience he had been taught to display in respect. "My father, will you conquer them all?" The look of hope that shone in the child's eyes as he turned his face up betrayed the fact that the boy believed he already knew the answer to the question.

The allure of the wonders waiting in the universe beyond the hull of the ship drew the boy's gaze off into the wild places there in the sea of stars. So many wonderous things waiting out there to be seen. So many places unfathomable to him waited to be visited. "I want to see each one kneel before Zod," Lor whispered brightly, imagining what it would be like to visit each one of those points of light hanging in space.

 

[Batman]

"Glory does not matter here, Rayner."

The two Earthmen turn towards me. I give both of them hard stares.

"As I told Larfleeze, this is about surival. My plan will work. It worked for your Alexander and the Battle of Gaugamela, It worked for General George Patton in the Battle of Normandy. And it will work for the Green Lantern Corps in the Battle of Sector 666."

I turn on my heels and head towards the door.

"Report outside the Citadel in fifteen minutes, both of you."

Hal sneered at the request, wanting to say something back, but he didn't feel like starting an argument. Sinestro wasn't his commanding general, even if he thought he was, so he didn't appreciate being talked down to like he was still a rookie in the academy. But the last thing he needed to do was stir up a fistfight with a red skinned veteran on a obvious power trip. The Lanterns, even if he didn't consider himself one of them yet, were at war.

With a mock salute, Jordan barely even muttered his final words to the departing Sinestro. "Sir, yes sir..."

Prick.

 

[Catman_prb]

Hal sneered at the request, wanting to say something back, but he didn't feel like starting an argument. Sinestro wasn't his commanding general, even if he thought he was, so he didn't appreciate being talked down to like he was still a rookie in the academy. But the last thing he needed to do was stir up a fistfight with a red skinned veteran on a obvious power trip. The Lanterns, even if he didn't consider himself one of them yet, were at war.

With a mock salute, Jordan barely even muttered his final words to the departing Sinestro. "Sir, yes sir..."

Prick.

"I told you," Rayner said, smoothing back his hair.

"He's certainly got the whole inspirational speech down," he muttered as he wandered out of the doors of the citadel "I think glory is just as important as survival, when you get down to it. This shouldn't really be about just surviving. This should be about making a stand against the darkness. Hand's trying to enslave the universe, for no other reason than he can. It's always about making a stand,"

He pulled a blue ring from his costume, spinning it around in his hand.

"A wise man once said something like that," he muttered, more to himself than Hal "Get your last breath of fresh air Jordan. We die for freedom in ten minutes,"

 

[Byrd Man]

Speeding down the street, steering with my knees. My hands pulling at the laptop in its case. GCPD issue to all officers above lieutenant. Used mine maybe three times.

Swerve to the side of the road. Slam the car in park. Boot up the computer. Jump drive in my hand, pop it in. Little insurance I got from Grayson's computer.

Welcome to O.R.A.C.L.E.

Quickly navigate through the files and info and bang out a message to Batman.

B,

Cover blown. Kyle in danger. Maroni's men en route to Kyle's apartment on 22nd Street. En route as well. Get there ASAP.

E. Nygma.

Send the message, slam the computer shut and spin tires getting back on the road.

Odds on my getting there in time? Slim to none...and slim just left town.
​

 

[Mr. Majestic]

The New Emerald Archer​

Master Jansen walks into his student’s quarters to find him sitting Indian style observing the waterfall out back. Of all the students Jansen has had Connor was his prized apprentice. He showed talent and skills that Jansen hasn’t seen for a long time since the days when he was a student himself.

“Enjoying the wonderful view my student?” Jansen asks as he walks next to Connor.

Connor relies by saying. “Master why do you ask questions when the answers lay in front of you?”

One of the things Master Jansen has grown fond of about Connor is how he is years ahead of his time mentally and physically.

“Just because the answer may appear to be right in front of you it doesn’t mean that it is the correct one. Besides the answer I my gather probably will not be the one you receive. So why don’t you entertain an old man.”

Connor looks up at his Master with a slight grin on his face. He knows that his Master is just asking him the question because of the instant that took place the first time Connor was brought to this school. When he was heading down the wrong path and had nothing going for him.

When Connor first laid eyes on the waterfall he believed it to be a true beauty. He only saw it as a wonderful sight to gaze upon. That day his master told him to not see it as a wonderful attraction but as a furious force. At that point in time he never understood what his master was telling him.

“I must not get set into one form. I must learn to adapt it and build my own and let it grow, like water. Watching the waterfall helps me empty my mind, to be formless and shapeless like water. For water is a adaptable element. You put water in a cup and it shall become the cup. You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle. Water can flow or it can crash. I might be water, master.”

Truly the words of a master Jansen thought to himself.

“You have come along way Connor, I fill a bit off by still referring to you as my student. Because you have the skills to be a good master maybe a great master if you would focus more on your archery skills than martial arts."

Connor then gets up and stretches his legs. “Master I will always be a student for life it self is a teacher and I’m in a state of constant learning. As for my achery skills it will develop over time.”

“It would be a lie for me to say it’s not going to weigh heavy on my heart that you are leaving. But you have your path and must take it.”

“Truth has no path. Truth is living and therefore changing. I believe we shall meet again master.”

Master Jansen then rest his hand on Connor’s shoulder.

“You are truly my best student but I’m afraid once you leave our paths may never cross again. For there is nothing more I can teach you. You must go and do what you have set your mind on doing and during that time you will find your next master. Who will not teach you the art of fighting but the art on life.”

 

[Byrd Man]

After dealing with the Earthmen, I head to the infirmary to check on another potential recruit.

"Greetings, Katma."

"Hello, Thaal," my fellow Korugian says. Bandages are on her arms and head.

"You don't know how bad I feel about what happened out there. I never meant to...lose control."

"Your emotions at the time were understandable. You are a sentient being, and emotions go hand in hand with life."

"Indeed. If you are up to the task, I have an offer for you. You're one of the few out there I can trust, and I owe it to your father to look after you in the upcoming conflict."

******

"I'm in," the massive alien says. Arkillo from Sector 674. Just as big as Kilowog, and just as fierce of a fighter. A trusted member of the corps for years, he's on my shortlist with Katma Tui for trusted members of the corps.

"Good. I'm sending data to your ring for a list of other top candidates to join special unit. Be quick about it."
​

"Yes, sir," he says with a quick salute.

Loyal to boot. Arkillo will be a fine member of my unit. With the main task of recruitment delegated to Arkillo and his ring, I fly towards the citadel, gathering my thoughts and preparing for battle as I go.
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

SELINA KYLE

I glance out my apartment window overlooking Gotham City. It's nighttime. Everything happens at nighttime in Gotham. I pick up my service pistol from the table in front of me. Ever since the Umberto incident, this has become my nighttime routine. I strip and clean my pistol, taking time to follow each step meticulously. On this particular night, Felicia has decided to keep me company. She sits in my lap, purring softly and rubbing her head against my thigh. I smile softly before getting to work.

I release the magazine, and it falls on the table with a clunk. I pull back the slide and check that the chamber is empty. Then, I hold the trigger until it clicks into place. I pull back the slide again and press the slide release levers. With my right hand, I guide the slide forward until it detaches from the rest of the gun. I gently place the bottom half of the gun on the table and focus on the slide. I pull out the guide rod and spring. Next, I slide out the barrel. I place all the components of the gun neatly before me on the table. Felicia yawns and stretches.

I pick up my cloth and start cleaning the inside of the slide, removing any excess gunpowder. As I'm checking the firing pin, Felicia becomes suddenly alert. It causes me to become alert as well. "What is it, girl?" I ask softly, but with an edge in my voice. "You hear something?" Felicia jumps down from my lap and races off into the bedroom. I begin to feel paranoid. I place the slide down as quietly as I can, and I turn to face my apartment door. With my gun stripped like this, I'm completely vulnerable. For a moment, I swear I hear floorboards creaking in the hallway.

Pull yourself together, Selina.

I spin back around in my chair and begin reassembling my gun. I'm clicking the guide rod back into place when I hear another creak. It wasn't my imagination. Suddenly, my doorknob begins to turn slowly. My heart drops as I realize that I forgot to put the chain on the door. Realizing there's no time to put my gun back together, I drop the gun and make a dash for the bedroom. I scan frantically for something I can use as a weapon. I can hear my door swinging open and footsteps moving into the kitchen.

S***, s***, s***!

I reach for the lamp on the nightstand. It has some weight to it. As I yank the cord out of the socket, I hear the murmurs of two men talking in my kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I position myself against the wall next to bedroom door. It's a Hail Mary play, but hopefully I'll at least incapacitate the first intruder and even the odds a bit. The footsteps start heading in my direction, so I consciously silence my breathing. The murmuring grows louder, and I can almost make out the conversation.

3...2...1...

With a yell, I swing the lamp down from overhead, smashing it against the skull of the man entering my bedroom. My success is short-lived, however, as the second man opens fire. Bullets chip away at my wooden bedposts as I duck for cover. To make matters worse, the first man - though groggy and rubbing his head - is starting to come to. My mind races as my options decrease. Next thing I know, the second man steps through the doorway and spots me.

In an act of desperation, I throw the lamp at him. He dodges it, and I deliver a kick from the ground to the first man's forehead. Scrambling, I make a desperate crawl for my bed - hoping to take shelter behind it. I'm just a little too slow, however. No sooner do I process the sound of the firing gun than I scream in utter pain as the bullet rips its way through my right shoulder. As I collapse, I reach up for the nightstand with my left hand, hoping to pull one of the drawers open and possibly find something to fight back with. My hand merely slides down the nightstand as my body starts to loosen with shock.

Underneath the bed, Felicia recoils and hisses. As I stare blankly at her, I hear one of the men say, "Grab the b****." I barely feel it as their hands grab at me, propping me up against the nightstand. I allow my eyes to dip down and look at the blood running freely from my shoulder. One of the men pistol-whips me, but the pain barely registers.

"You thought you could f*** over Salvatore Maroni?!" the other man demands angrily. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Polaroid. It's me and Nygma meeting with Batman. Part of me wonders how they got this picture. The other half is merely drifting aimlessly through shock and blood loss. "I hate f***in' rats," the man grunts as he places the cold barrel of his gun against my forehead.

I feel all the tension leaving my neck as my eyes begin to shut. I pray that the end comes quickly.
​

 

[Saved]

Gotham Heights High School

Some things in life are really difficult to understand. Like, the concept of "nothing", how a television really works, or how I can look at the clock after what feels like an eternity has passed, and in reality, it's only been two minutes. It's not like I hate school - just this class. Why I signed up for "The History of American Performance and Literature" is beyond me. Heck, I'm not even sure why the high school offers it. Probably just another way for the school to get the drama director a job where she's actually doing something that isn't extracurricular. After all, when it's time to review the budget, I'm sure they need a few excuses to keep around someone who's only real purpose is bringing in a marginal profit for the school plays.

As I look up from the doodles on my notepad, my eyes turn to the blackboard in front of me. As I try to decipher whatever it is the teacher just finished writing, my attention span slips back to zero and I roll my eyes with a sigh. Gotta fight the urge - it's only been a minute, I know that's all. Keep myself busy - fight the urge to look at the clock a second time.

Wow, what's she talking about again? 'Talkies'. Halfway through the year and we're already at the top of the 1900's. She's moving through the curriculum pretty fast. Then again, this whole year has been going by pretty fast. Can't believe it's been a few months since Jim's been gone. Man, even now, thinking about that makes my eyes well up. I haven't forgotten, Jim. Not one moment. I guess that's really what drives me. What fuels my resolve for my... night job. Seriously, how am I expected to pay attention in class when I've been fighting crime for six to eight hours the night before? I mean, sure it's my choice, but ... still. Cut me some slack.

Lately I've been improving; really stepping up my game. I've been keeping more to the shadows, learning how to use surprise on my side. Leaping out and taking on five armed guys at once with nothing more than two "borrowed" ASPs and a sharp tongue isn't really the best strategy. I'm sure that isn't how Batman does it. He's sneeky ... crafty, even. He knows how to wait for the opportune moment. I'm sure it's like a second instinct to him, now. Pretty soon, it should be for me too.

How long has it been now? Gotta be, what, like five minutes right? Maybe even ten!

As I turn my head to the clock, my eyes widen in shock. Three minutes? Three? A hundred and eighty seconds - that's it!? Oh, come on. This day'll never end.

"Barbara," my teacher calls, snapping my head to attention like a soldier.
"Yes?" I say, slightly stammering as I try to play it off, pretend I've been keeping up with her lecture.
"I asked you a question, Ms. Gordon." Uh-oh. I didn't hear a word she said. Stay calm, Barb. Stay cool.
"Yeah, can you repeat that?" She grumbles under her breath, failing to hide her emotion.
"I asked, what was the first movie ever produced with sound in the 1920's?"

I immediately scan the board, searching for the answer. Line after line of information written in white chalk before me on the board quickly becomes useless jargon as I fail to find the answer I so desperately need. Turning my eyes back to the teacher, I try to think of something sly to say - some decent answer to give her. As I open my lips to respond, even I'm surprised by what slips out. "Look, Mrs. Grunwald, I don't have a clue. I was up really late, and to be honest - I don't have a clue what's going on in here, or even why I took the class." The room goes silent as I recall what I just said in shock. Oh, nice job, Barb. Real smooth.

"Well," she starts, taking a long pause. I stare intently as I wait for her response, hoping to heaven I've caught her in a good mood. "That was a strikingly honest answer, Ms. Gordon. I'm surprised." Surprised?

"Um... t-thank you," I sputter, confused by her response.
"Bobby, would you like to help Barbara?"
"Sure," the kid in the next row over says gleefully. "The Jazz Singer."
"Very good, Bobby."
"Ha, maybe I should help you out more often, huh, Babs?" He tells me with a filthy grin. Yeah, you can help me in your dreams, bud.
"Oh, I think she'll have plenty of time to help herself," she says, turning back to me with a proud smirk. "In detention."

I drop my head to the desk and bury it in my arms, letting out a silent groan to myself.

Great... I'm par for the course.

"Jeez, Barb, you're the detention queen." Steph shouts out from the back of the room as the room errupts in scattered laughter.
"Yep ... that's me." I'll bet Batman doesn't have to go to detention. Then again, I'll bet he keeps his mouth shut. He seems like the strong silent type. The perfect ying to my untamed mouth.

I lift my head up from my arms and instinctively turn my head to the clock once more. Two minutes!? ... Yep, it's official. I'm trapped in a time vortex.

 

[Batman]

"Jesus, man! Jesus! He's real! You said he wasn't real!"

"Shut up and keep runnin'! Don't stop for even a second! He's getting closer!"

They were a couple of small timers.

Punks, thugs, hoodlums - it really didn't didn't matter what type of lower class social designation that they were likely to be placed into, in the end. The two men that were now running the streets in absolute terror were nothing more than amateurs with cheap guns, looking to score a higher profit off of a couple of valuables stolen in a poorly staged mugging. But by the time they had made it around the block and back to their car, parked to the side of an alleyway, they heard the low growl from the darkness above. They thought it was nothing at first... maybe a stray cat digging through the garbage, or a homeless man trying to get some sleep on the curb. Even a gust of wind seemed a more likely culprit, as they began searching around for a sign.

But by the time the figure dropped hard onto the hood of their vehicle, staring them down with menacing eyes that looked void of a soul, there were no immediate thoughts left in either man's head. They simply just dropped the stolen items, turned, and ran for their lives, never thinking for a second that he'd follow them for as long as he would. They thought it was enough for him that they'd dropped their score, believing that he'd just return the items to the police or to the family that they had mugged at gunpoint. But as with many circumstances relating to the evening, they had turned out to be wrong. He wasn't after the valuables, or looking to do what was perceived as 'the right thing' by returning something stolen to it's rightful owner. That was what an ordinary citizen might have done, if they had even cared enough to go through with that process.

But this was Gotham City. And just like every night that he threw himself into the chaos that the city had to offer him, he wasn't out to do the right thing by anyone's law except for his own. He would not be satisfied or reasoned with until every criminal, even the small timers, were off the streets and ravaged with too much fear to ever return. So like a true creature of the night, as he appeared to be nothing more than a terrible shadow traveling across the night's skies, he was not simply seeking justice.

He was hunting prey.

Predictably, one of them had already thought up a plan. He listened in as their agenda was relayed to the other, hoping to avoid capture.

"C'mon, man! Just another few blocks, and we're home free! He can't possibly follow us into the Narrows! There're too many cops!"

The other one looked back with widened eyes, fresh perspiration already beading down his forehead. From the readout of the vigilante's cowl, that one's vital signs were skyrocketing in comparison to the other's. The leader felt confident in his plan. Sound with his determination to escape. But he was about to be given a clear dose of reality.

"D-do you think... do you think that would really stop him?"

"No,"

Both thugs froze in place, jaws agape at the sight before them.

"That won't stop me."

He spread his cape, encapsulating them both within his fearsome shadow. By the time they snapped out of their panic to begin firing upon him with their weapons, neither realized that it was already too late. The conflict was over before it even began.

"Nothing will."

They had both become the latest to witness the nightly wrath of The Batman.

"A tad dramatic, wouldn't you say?"

Moments later, and The Dark Knight was safely back within his usual sanction of the Gotham rooftops, making his way away from the scene of where he had left the two beaten and unconscious muggers. Police sirens echoed across the streets, but he didn't pay any attention to them. His testosterone was running at an all-time high, and he felt as if he could take on the entire force, but it would ultimately be meaningless. For the past few days, he had been taking a special interest in Commissioner Gordon's rackets, lining up every lead that resulted from unexplained disappearances and obviously bribed officials, all kept under maintenance by a select few officers of what many believed to be Gordon's inner circle. And by scoping out the length of those operations, Batman had discovered that the proper method to bringing down the corrupt members of the force was simple, though agonizing to a man of little patience - he'd have to wait for them to get sloppy.

So when Alfred's voice unexpectedly reached through to the comm-link in his cowl, the vigilante was in no mood to hear his usual quips and lectures in regards to the crusade at hand. His mind was scattered elsewhere, reaching towards the members of Gotham Central's many enforcers-for-hire.

"I'm busy, Alfred. Keep it short."

"I'm not quite certain of that, but very well. I simply wished to remind you that Bruce Wayne has an important appointment to keep for tomorrow morning's business commute. You're to be speaking on behalf of Waynetech's efforts towards global telecommunications' research."

Batman sneered, particularly agitated. Partly because he had forgotten all about that engagement, but mostly because he had intended to sleep in for the morning in preparation. The next evening was to be eventful, to say the least, because he was going to extend Oracle's monitoring systems towards five racketeering locations in the East End that he suspected the police kept under their control. The evidence he could obtain against the department could do considerable damage. And it didn't make any sort of sense to begin risking that for a last-minute speech on prototype satellite viewpoint technology.

"I'd forgotten."

"So I suspected, sir. Hence my sudden need to interrupt your nocturnal festivities."

"I suppose you'll want me back at an earlier hour."

"And I suppose you'll be tempted to stay out two hours later than that, for simple sake of spite."

"Maybe if I were still a child."

"You certainly still dress like one."

A small smirk reared itself over Batman's lips, leaping over a gap in the rooftops. He had to hand it to his day-to-day assistant, if there was anyone that he could allow to speak to him like that and manage to bring him out of the depths of his own determination, it was him. "I'll try and make the effort."

"Please do. In the meantime, I'll begin work on a speech. Lord knows you won't be cognizant enough to write one yoursel-..."

Alfred's voice suddenly came to a pause. Realizing how uncharacteristically irregular this was, especially within the context, the vigilante came to a stop in mid-sprint, and tapped the side of his cowl to check for an equipment malfunction. He already dreaded the thought of having to tinker with the microphones again. "Alfred? Alfred, can you hear me?"

"Forgive me, sir. But it appears that something unexpected has just transpired."

"How unexpected?"

"It's the Oracle. A priority alert has just popped up onto the Batcomputer's screen, warning of a Code-639 breach."

Batman's spine went cold. There hadn't been another breach like that for months, and the last one was accidental. It had been around the time that Lieutenant Edward Nygma had discovered the link between him and the late John Grayson, after Bruce had forgotten leaving a crucial piece of evidence on Grayson's office hard drive. As a test of his trust, Nygma had given him the only remaining part of that computer that still had a trace back to The Oracle on it. Or so he thought, up until this point.

"I'll handle it. Oracle, are you still online?"

Standard Operations Currently Running At Maximum Efficiency.

He assumed that was the program's version of a 'yes'.

"Begin intruder countermeasures. Open firewalls and backup encryptions. Trace for an unauthorized threat."

Priority Requests Completed. Beginning Scan.

- - - Scan Completed. No Unauthorized Threats Detected.

Batman breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever had managed to find their way into The Oracle's programming hadn't tried to bypass any important files or incriminating information. The reality was, they probably didn't even know what they had found their way into. But he still couldn't take the chance of the person or person's responsible being able to try again.

"Delay countermeasures. Look for system irregularities."

Beginning Scan.

- - - Scan Completed. One Result Found. Transferring Data To Remote Operator's CPU.

The information presented itself across the viewscreens of Batman's cowl lenses. For a moment, The Dark Knight wasn't sure what he had been looking at. There was so much scattered data from the attempted hacking that it was almost unreadable. But as the information began to pile itself on, it started to resemble something far less expected - cryptic text. Much like a relay message. Batman tapped the side of his cowl once more, perching himself onto the edge of a building.

"Oracle. Translate encryption."

B,

Cover blown.
Kyle in danger.
Maroni's men en route to Kyle's apartment on 22nd Street.
En route as well.
Get there ASAP.

E. Nygma.

What the hell?

Batman could barely process the message at first, but he knew enough to realize that whatever it was, it was more than urgent. He didn't know how Nygma had gotten back into The Oracle, but he'd need to save those questions for another time. If he understood the message correctly, then Nygma's partner, Officer Selina Kyle, was in immediate danger.

Shooting out a grapple line, he swung into the financial district and crossed towards 22nd street. It would take him several minutes to reach it in time, but he'd use his endurance to try and narrow those minutes down to the very last few. Otherwise, he'd be too late, and Nygma would discover a corpse. And somewhere in Gotham, Maroni would have won a major victory in the war for the city. Dammit.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

 

[Byrd Man]

My unmarked detective car: rattling and close to throwing a rod and groaning. Cop radio blasting same ole midnight shuffle: murder, shooting, stabbing, rape, robbery. Car radio blasting ****-kicker country songs: Willie singing about Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.

My mind: thinking about purple eyes. Her purple eyes.

Mount the curb at 80MPH, land back on the street with sphincter-crushing force. Car groans. Moonlight shines through the street lights, a shadow falls on the car. A bat-shaped shadow.

Him.

Punch the gas, push the ****-heap up past 95. Car rattles as I turn on to 22nd Street.

Please be alive, Selina. Don't die yet. All the women I love leave me, either because of death or because of me. Don't become another name on my list.
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

SELINA KYLE

"Stay with us, Holly," the man barks, smacking his cold, metal pistol against my cheek. He then adds in a grumble, "Or whatever your name really is."

"Just shoot her, man," the other man urges. He's the one who took the lamp and my heel to his forehead. It's already swollen and red. As he rubs it, he points to me and continues, "Let's just get it over with. Someone probably heard us by now, and I don't feel like getting busted."

The first man grits his teeth and rolls his eyes. "We have our orders from Sal, alright? We're supposed to find out anything she knows. Besides, this is Gotham. No one's gonna call the cops about a gunshot - especially not in this part of town."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," I mutter. It's getting hard to stay conscious. I feel lightheaded, but my shoulder is throbbing in pain. The warm blood runs down my arm, but I hardly feel it. "So why don't you just put a bullet in my head now and end it?"

"If you don't do it, I will," the second man threatens. He raises his gun and takes aim.

The first man smacks his hand away. "I don't want to have to explain to Sal why we killed the rat before we had time to properly interrogate her. You hear me?" He repositions his gun against my forehead once more. "Who else knows about your little undercover job?"

I hold my tongue.

"Come on! We already know about your boyfriend, Nygma. He's had it coming for a while, if you ask me. In fact--" He checks the watch on his free hand. "--if I'm correct, Sal should be just about done with him by now."

My heart misses a beat. They got to Nygma? Sal's dealing with it personally?

"TALK!"
​

 

[Byrd Man]

IC: Vic Sage

Who is Holiday? Now that's a real riddle, isn't it?

Months after Nygma said those words they still ring true. We've have one suspect, and one person confess to the crimes of being Holiday. Both of them are dead. My best suspect still drawing a breath is my partner on the case. No matter what he says, I trust Nygma about as far as I can throw him. He's a crazy booze-hound with vengeance on his mind. All three make for a compelling case.

I've come to the conclusion that these murders aren't random. They're either gangland executions, or someone is out of revenge.

Still out of the Homicide rotation, I start digging through traffic stops that occurred around the murder scenes the time the murders happened and the bodies were found. More than one serial killer has been caught going back to the scene of the crime, they like to take a measure of the police response, let them know who's out to get them.

One name in the computer catches my eye.

Driver: Falcone, Alberto Michael
DL#: 872301654
DOB: 2/14/82
Citation: Failure to maintain lane, running a red light.
Issued: 2:34 pm
1/1/2010
Officer on Duty: Davies
Badge#: 921

Alberto Falcone, Carmine's boy who was born on Valentine's Day of all days, was stopped the afternoon I was in Hamilton Hill's penthouse, not a block away from the scene of the murder. It's sketchy, but it's time to do some legwork. I go back into the computer, searching for anything I can find on Alberto.

Just like that, this case may have new legs.

 

[Andy C.]

Lex Luthor​

With all of the security guards and security camera surrounding LexCorp I thought it would at least be some what of a challenge for me to infiltrate his building. Once at the door I raise my wrist next to the security lock pad. On my wrist is a new and improve watch that I develop to override the security locks. The light flash green identifying it is now safe for me to enter. As I enter I move towards the nearest corner and kneel down by the edge of a wall to conceal myself. While here I press a few commands on the watch. First thing I did was put all of the camera footage on a loop to make my job that much easier. Next I pull up the blue prints for this tower.​

A 3D image appears out of the watch showing my location and also my ending point, the computer mainframe. From there I’ll be able to access any computer in this building that is connected to the wireless network or even has the wireless network function.​

Even without my powers I make it to the mainframe undetected and within a reasonable amount of time. As I make my way to the computer I pull out a drive stick and begin to get to work.​

"This is not what I wanted," I say to myself as I watch the happenings in Central City.

This is not what I wanted at all.

Miss Zuell was meant to prevent the Flash and Wonder Woman from ever meeting, and now the two of them are fending her off together. Her training and her abilities are enough that even against such formidable foes she is able to hold her own, but I have to wonder how long she'll hold up.

What's worse, if she does fall to those two, they may be able to link her to me, and put a damper on my whole operation before the Manhattan Project is able to reach its fruition. And that I simply cannot allow.

"Mister Luthor," the L-Soft AI grabs my attention. "We have an unauthorized data access in the Lexcorp mainframe."

"Bring surveillance online," I order.

"All visual surveillance cameras on that level have been tampered with, sir. However, the smart-dust sensors embedded in the drywall and ceiling have indicated a male of roughly human anatomy, body and facial structure identical to the Majestrate. Other than slight differences in organ physiology, however, the intruder seems to have no metahuman abilities."

Finally, some news that brings a smile to my face.

"Open an audio channel," I say eagerly. "I want to address our interloper personally."

"Yes, Mister Luthor."

The console on my desk displays the channel opening to the correct level, and I speak into my earpiece.

"Hello, Majestrate. Trying to learn a bit more about me, are we? Well, I can assure you that now, you are going to get very well acquainted with some of LexCorp's nasty little secrets...mainly because you're about to become one of them."

I bring up a holographic keypad and enter in a command, which starts flooding the mainframe room with an odorless nerve gas which renders paralysis.

"I hope you'll appreciate how expensive it was to engineer the gas currently entering your lungs. It will completely override your nervous system, leaving you totally paralyzed but otherwise unharmed...and fully conscious while I work on you. I'm sure the loss of your powers is only a temporary one--in fact, I'm counting on it. But if you're planning on them returning in time to save you, I should let you know, I can work extremely quickly. See you in a minute."

With that, I close the audio channel and enter in a few more commands.

Downstairs in the mainframe room, the walls and floor around the intruding Majestrate begin to shift and open, a large metal table and a work-station coming out of the floor, some of my newed neural-inhibitor hardware being brought up automatically from R&D as I make my way to the elevator.

"Make sure there's a disposable smock and some rubber gloves in place when I get there," I note to L-Soft. "I have a feeling that the work is going to get a little messy."