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"That was awesome.....but the punch buggy thing only applies with a certain type of car. Uhh, I'll explain it later."

The large man comes out of the store window and eyes us with murderous rage.

"What do you say? You go high, I go low?"

Superboy nods and crashes into the monster just as I land a super-charged blow to his knees.

He roars out and buckles to the ground. Superboy and I pounce, going to work on the downed monster at super-speeds. We make short order of him.

We both stand over the unconscious monster, I hold my balled up fist out to Superboy.

"C'mon, pound it."

He scowls at my fist and looks up at me.

"You know you want to. Just pound it."

He balls his fist us and bumps my fist with his. It feels like a rock being smashed into my hand. One of my knuckles pop. I resist the urge to cry out in pain or wince. I just look down at my dislocated knuckle and smile through gritted teeth. "See....you're learning Earth stuff real fast........"
 
SUPERGIRL
:super:

Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive train. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. But even I am not immune to that most dreaded high school event: the annual physical fitness examination in gym class.

As many curl-ups you can do in sixty seconds. As many pull-ups as you can manage. A "shuttle run" sprint. A sit-and-reach test. And the icing on the cake, the mile run.

All of these events which I could complete without breaking a sweat, but I have to maintain appearances. And, in many ways, that's almost worse than not being in shape at all. I take my time with the curl-ups, fake one and a half pull-ups before hanging pathetically from the bar, take the shuttle run at the equivalent of a brisk walk. The sit-and-reach, at least, I can do without drawing much attention.

"How long would this take you for real?" Tara asks as we begin the mile.

"About three seconds," I answer. "But how does ten minutes sound?"

Tara laughs. "Works just fine for me." As we reach the first turn of the track, Tara looks over to the football field where some of the other tests are being held. Mae is just finishing up with her sit-and-reach. "Does she seem to be acting weird to you?"

"No. Why?"

Tara shrugs. "I don't know. I was talking to her the other day, and...you know what? Nevermind. I'm sure it's nothing." A few minutes later, Tara taps me on the arm and nods to the soccer field. "Who's the cute boy?"

Sure enough, there's a reasonably cute boy wandering around the soccer field. "I don't know. Maybe he's on the soccer team?" I suggest. The weird thing, though, is that he doesn't have a ball. In fact, he doesn't seem to be doing much of anything but standing around. Suddenly, he snaps his head around and looks right at us.

"Uh-oh. Busted." Tara turns her attention forward as if this mile is the most important thing in the world.

I, however, can't take my eyes off the boy. And that's only because he isn't taking his off me, and his are glowing red. I try to write it off as me just seeing things, but every time I look over, he's still staring and his eyes are still red. Then, he starts to march towards the football field and the track. Other students emerge from the distance, all of them sporting the apparently fashionable glowing eyes as well.

"Uh...what's going on?" Tara asks nervously as she finally begins to grasp the weirdness of the situation.

"Good question." No sooner have I said this than the mass of glowing-eyed students break into a full sprint. I notice that some of them are sporting some kind of strange starfish thing on their faces. If I had a Spider-Sense, it'd probably be tingling right now. "Hey, cover for me?"

"I always do."

Finally using the speed at my disposal, I break for the bleachers faster than anyone can see. In a whirlwind of movement, I've ditched my gym clothes and changed into my costume. I take to the skies above the football field and examine the situation. Swarms of students are charging at Tara, Mae, and all the other unsuspecting exercisers.

Swooping down low, I huff and puff and blow the sprinting masses down. "What's the hurry, boys and girls?"

The ones that didn't fall down collapse around me, catching me way off-guard. Before I know it, I'm trapped inside a crowd of overly aggressive high school students who clearly aren't acting of their own volition.

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Now you see why I hate physical fitness day.
 
J'onn continued to climb up the long limb of Sta'rro, gripping handfuls of strange alien flesh to anchor himself. Up ahead he spied the parasites - gellatinous like creatures that sloped forwards on all fours, using hooks in their paws to keep attached to the flesh of the creature. The most terrifying aspect though, was the large, snapping beak. Though he could not hear it, he knew that the force would be enough to break his arm in one strike, maybe clean off.

There was a pulsing through his head as he felt his telepathic link to the planet blow being lost. The close proximity to the creature was weakening the strength of his power. His link to the other space-faring heroes remained in tact, in the eye of the psychic storm as it were. He recieved a garbled message from the Earth.

J'onn ...here .... Labs ....something...a fighting ...to ... hurry!

He let out a howl of frustration, though there was no sound. The only way to stop the pain was to cut the connection completely. They were no completely alone.
 
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The Atom floats back into Star Labs and sits on the Control Panel.

She says, "No one else is here yet, but we can't wait any longer. Is the Audio EMP ready?"

Mac replies, "Yes but how are we going to get it out over such a wide area?"

Atom says, "Piggy-Back remember you and I discussed it in the stasis chamber."

Mac looks at her and says, "No we didn't."

Atom replies, "Yes we did TV, Satellite all of that."

Mac says, "Oh right" still uncertain though. He continutes, "Set the DB level Susan."

Susan replies, "Mac Lamar did it already."

Mac says, "Oh good if you all don't mind I think I'm going up to the break room."

Mac leaves and Lamar says to Atom, "I guess the rumors are true."

Atom asks, "What rumors?"

Lamar repiles, "Why Mac is retiring next week. He says it's time with his family stuff but it's becoming more and more obvious that the rumors are right. That it's Alzheimer’s stage 1."

Atom floats up and looks at Lamar who says, "The board is letting him finish out the Fiscal year so he can get his full benefits and pension. He'll be set for life what kind of life that is who knows. Anyway we better get on with our signal."

Atom snaps back into reality and says, "Right proceed and then link up to Star Labs Apollo Satellite. One of Superman's powers is super-hearing. Set the transponder relay to do a diagnostic bing in Morse Code. Have the message keep repeating solution for Earth send someone back. Have it repeat that over and over until someone gets here."

Mac enters the room again as Lamar asks, "What about the main parasite in space?"

Atom replies, "One situation at a time please."

Just then she looks up and sees Mac.

Uh-Oh! When did he come in here? One situation at time was something I used to say to Mac all the time when I was here. Maybe I got lucky and he didn't hear it.

She says, "Get the signal out now. If we we're right those things should start dropping all over the world. That should get the others attention and bring them here let me know when they arrive."

Atom floats towards the door and says, "I need to get a drink. I saw the break room on the way in I'll be back."

Atom floats to the break room and sits on the edge of the sink. She hears someone enter the room and close the door.

Mac says, "Hello Rhiannon."

Atom bows her head and looks at Mac. She changes back into Rhiannon Palmer and replies, "Hello again Mac."
 
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"We need a different strategy."

It was the first few words Batman had said to acknowledge Wonder Woman since they started. Whether it was simple focus toward their work or an underlying mistrust, he hadn't found the necessity to keep a conversation going. But it had reached the point that mere action wasn't enough anymore.

"Handling one isolated incident at a time isn't going to slow the outbreak down. And staying close to each other in a city this size is only making that more obvious. But we can't take the risk of going after them alone, either."

Rubbing the bridge of his cowl in frustration, Batman realized just how hopeless it was becoming. Given his fields of expertise, he wasn't prepared to approach a problem of this magnitude. And something told him that no matter her experience, neither did Wonder Woman. They needed to compromise and reach a feasible plan before the time to stop this ultimately ran out. "The parasites have to have a weakness. Star'ro wouldn't have needed human hosts otherwise. If we can learn whatever that is, we stand a chance of being able to incapacitate them on a mass scale."

Batman turned to her, as she was evidently contemplative. "But that's just another theory. I could use a second opinion."

"I agree," I say as I send another infected man back with an open palm to the chest. "We aren't making any headway like this. And the longer we're out here, the longer we risk infection ourselves."

I pull my Lasso from my hip and throw it to the Batman before knocking another three infected drones away with a sweeping kick.

"Should I fall to the infection, restrain me with that," I tell him. "The Lasso cannot be broken by the hands of mortals or gods. I would sooner be bound by my own weapon than let my powers be used for evil purposes."

More and more of the infected surround us.

"I pray our newfound friends are on their way to a solution, because we don't have much longer," I say, my eyes growing wider as I remember something from the mind of Lance Corporal Diana Prince. "The military has a strict protocol about containing epidemics such as this one. In the hypothetical event of a virulent plague like this, if no cure is coming, they will eventually resort to purging the infected, to prevent it from spreading. If this city is overrun, the military will have no choice but to level it with nuclear force."

As another throng of Sta'rro's drones advances, I charge into the fray, taking them down with pulled-back punches and restrained kicks. I cannot let these people harm others....but I cannot risk harming them myself. These men and women are still innocent, after all.

"What really concerns me, though, is the lack of sheer force Sta'rro is showing."

Were Batman's face not covered by a cowl, I would bet I would see an eyebrow raised.

"According to the Martian, this thing is a world-conqueror, able to subdue and destroy even the most powerful of armies. While the infection is strong, it is not insurmountable. Against this kind of resistance, Sta'rro should have some kind of stronger defense, something big and powerful enough to decimate opposing forces, something...."

A fiery streak rains down from the sky, slamming into the greenery of the park and kicking up an enormous cloud of dust.

From the dust emerges an enormous figure, nearly twenty stories in height.

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".....something like that."
 
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The Narrows


Vic Sage: Civilian. A week after quitting the GPCD and that's something I'm still getting used to. No more twelve hour work days chasing down Gotham yos who "didn't see ****" on a B&E stabbing that happened months ago, no more headaches and having to deal with the whims of the command staff. But solving murders is what I lived for. I made a difference. When you slapped the cuffs on a guy who took a life, it made you feel good. Murder is the absolute tops in crimes, the theft of human life. When you worked Homicide, sometimes it felt like you weren't working for the Gotham taxpayers, but the Almighty Himself was stamping your time sheets and approving your OT.

No more of that. Now comes the question of what the hell do I do now? I got a job interview tomorrow afternoon that might give me another career path.

But right now? Well....


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"Stop making me run, dammit!"

I've got a little hobby to help pass the time. The skinny crackhead I'm chasing down the back alley is an armed robber. He hit a check-cash store before in the early morning hours of check day, when the store was flush with cash. I've been chasing him for ten city blocks.

Ten goddamn city blocks. He turns a corner and nearly crashes into a stack of trashcans. When I come to the cans, I quickly pull a trashcan lid off and toss it at the robber.

CLUNK!

The can top bounces off his skull, sending the criminal down to the ground.

"And momma said those frisbee golf classes I took were a waste of time."

Panting, I walk over the the half conscious robber and pick up the bag of cash.

"Do you know how hard it is to breath in this mask?!" I spit out. Taking a few more deep breaths, I pull the robber's cellphone out his pocket and dial 911. After reporting him to the police, I hogtie him with some zip-ties and head back to the check-cash place.

Walking back to the scene of the crime, I walk into the store and hold the money up for the Korean owners to see.

"I got your cash ba-"

WHAM!

The old Korean man lays into me with a broom. His wife screams at me in their native language. Dropping the cash on the floor, I run out the store with the Korean man chasing me with his broom.

"And stay out!"

"I'm a good guy, dammit!"

After out-running the store owner, I come to a stop at the end of the block and try to catch my breath.

Something tells me Superman doesn't run into this kinda crap when he saves the day.​
 
(BatGirl)

Gotham, Grant Park

It's amazing how fast the summer goes, I mean, it feels like just yesterday I was studying for my finals! How can it already be August? I guess it's true that you should cherish each moment, because none of us know how long they'll last.​

In any event, I have been able to use the time wisely. My continous practice with the batarang has payed off - I'm so good with it now I'm able to throw it while running or jumping. Hopefully, I'll never have to use it in a clutch like that, but, it never hurts to be cautious.​

I've also used my time to improve my stamina. Luckily, Amy's on the track team - she's pretty good too, won a few races at the last track meet for hurdles. We've been meeting here at Grant Park nearly every morning for a ten mile run. It takes a lot out of me, but it's still nothing compared to going on patrol at night. For one, I'm not dressed head to toe in a suffocating costume.​

Before long I see Amy approaching from the other side of the path. She waves and moves toward me quickly - meeting me halfway. "Hey, Babs," she says, tucking the keys in her hand away in her pocket. "Ready to go?"

"You bet," I tell her confidently. Amy pauses for a moment, staring intently at my arms and staring in surprise.
"Man, I really cannot get over how toned your arms arm, Babs." She tells me, same as she does every day. All the extra training I've been putting myself through for crimefighting has put on a little more bulk that I expected. "Maybe I should start doing gymnastics, haha."
"Well, you know how it is," I say, trying to divert the conversation. "It's not easy swinging from those bars, haha."

"Guess not. Alright," she says as she turns her head and stares down the pathway ahead. "Let's go." She takes off running, moving fast as she takes the lead. I take my place slightly behind her, following her direction as we go about our run. "I want to get to the clocktower today," she shouts, her voice labored. "Want to race there?"

"Haha, sure," I laugh, a wide grin coming over my face. "I'll be sure to wait for you when I get there."
"You're on, Babs."
 
Thaal Sinestro
Green Lantern


Sector Zero

Planet Oa

13 terran days after Blackest Night

----

"And you're quite certain you won't change your mind?"

I had not made the decision lightly. In the wake of William Hand's attack on Oa the Lantern Corps was severely weakened. Our homeplanet lies in ruins and our Guardians have been mercilessly slaughtered. But anyone who thought a single standing Lantern would ever give up hope is a fool indeed. Already we have begun rebuilding. And now, standing on the balcony of the Oan Museum of History, I can not help but think that even in it's crippled state it resembles the phoenix, readying for it's rise out of the flames. I try not to think of the man who told me of the phoenix and the mythologies of Earth.

I smile, giving Tomar a friendly touch on the shoulder. "I'm afraid so, old friend."

I can not say I had been surprised when the offer came. As I had told Recruit Jordan the Lantern Corps now searched for the people who would hold the positions of New Guardians. No, I was not surprised when the offer came. But after the years of lying awake at night thinking of all the things I would change for the better, of all the ways I could lead the Lantern Corps into a Golden Age.....my answer was the thing that surprised me most.

It was not that I felt I did not live up to the standards. It was not fear that guided me in my decision, of that I was certain. But a nagging feeling, deep in my very core. Becoming a Guardian was not what I was meant for.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed, Sinestro." Tomar sighed, turning to look out at the sprawling city of the Lantern homeworld. "With your prior experiences...you'd be a a valuable addition to the New Guardians. We could really use you."

"I believe I can best serve the Lantern Corps out on the field, Tomar. That is where my experiences serve me best." I followed his gaze to where the Central Power Battery stood, barely visible through the grid of multi-colored energy surrounding it. The repairs were faster than we had expected, which only served to raise morale. "I have full confidence that you, Kilowog and the others will make the rest of us Lanterns proud."

"I hope so, Sinestro." Tomar smiled faintly, his eyes still fixed upon the Central Power Battery. I was not sure if it was hope I heard in his voice, or fear. "I hope so."

Tomar Re was a highly decorated Green Lantern, having served 7 years longer than me. I was told that during his training he was slated to become the greatest Blue Lantern the Corps had ever seen but lost many people a lot of bets when he put a green ring on his finger. Whatever doubts people had were quickly silenced. Aside from being an exceptional ring slinger, Tomar Re was one of the few people who did not believe me to be insane 5 years ago, when William disappeared. Whenever he heard people call me a liar, murderer or worse he would have my back even though there was nothing to suggest those people were wrong.

"We've been thinking a lot about how the Old Guardians ran things here and there are some big changes coming." Tomar stated proudly. "We believe one of the things that caused the Bl..." he stopped himself "...the war, was the Guardians' distance from the Corps itself. Locked up in their chambers all day, it was a wonder we even knew their skin was blue. We want to open up communcation between the Corps and ourselves. We've decided this.." he raised his hand to the walls of the Oan History of Museum, like an infant proudly displaying something he had built. "..will be the new Guardians' Chamber."

"An inspired choice." I faked a smile. I had no real interest in listening to Tomar rattle on about the changes to come. After sitting on Oa, twiddling my thumbs, for nearly two weeks I was anxious to get back out in the world.

Tomar seemed to notice my lack of enthusiasm and laughed. "Alright, alright." he patted me on the back. "Listen. Even though I thought you'd jump at the chance to become a Guardian I can't say I expected you to say yes after all that's happened. I brought you up here to ask you to join us but, failing that, I have something else I want your help with."

I cocked an eyebrow, curious as to what he was talking about. Tomar began walking toward the entrance to the Museum, and I followed suit.

"When Oa was under attack the Guardians called all active Lanterns back home. But it turns out a couple of them never made it back. Now, their rings are both active, far as we can tell, but all attempts at establishing contact with them have failed which also means we can't pin point their location."

"Interesting. Possible defection?"

"It's hard to say. That's why we want you to go find them. Bring them back to us. We have quite a few questions for them."

"No doubt. But if you can't find them how do you expect me to?"

"Like I said, we can't pin-point them but, lucky for you, they seem to have stayed within their designated sector. Sector 2828."

I stopped in my tracks, staring right at Tomar. He seemed to have expected the reaction because he had stopped walking a fraction of a second before I did. "Listen, Sinestro, I know you have history with those two but you are our best. And right now, we can't afford to lose any more Lanterns. You can choose whoever you want to tag along with you, just go out there and bring them home."

I sighed. The last time I had met the Green Lantern of Sector 2828 it had ended with in a public brawl that resulted in quite a few broken bones. I could not say I was anxious to meet him again but what Tomar had said was true. We needed every Lantern. Besides, his disappearance intrigued me. Whatever one could say about him, and I could say quite a lot, he was nothing if not fiercely loyal to the Corps.

"And Sinestro?" Tomar put his hand on my shoulder. "If you do find Larfleeze and Blooch alive, try not to kill each other."


 
Red Hood

Trail of Slaugher Part II

Gotham River, Belseraph’s Circus

As darkness befalls the area, a faint glow emanates from inside the big top. The haunting radiance of figures moving inside the structure can be seen through the fabric as faint screams are drowned out by the howling wind.


Inside the tent, Detective Thomas Burke dangles from a makeshift wooden structure. Metal wires are bolted to the frame, securely attached by staples and jagged nails. The opposite ends of the wires are tied around Detective Burke’s extremities, holding his body in place above the ground beneath him. The wires are sharp and jagged, but the pain from the bruises on his body and face keep his mind distracted. Burke’s shadow resembles that of a marionette, helplessly hanging in place by the strings that control his every movement. His lungs are tired – exhausted from yelling for help that hasn’t come. Now he just hangs there, living without fear – refusing to falter or break. He knows his salvation will come, he just has to endure, and outlast.

Wearily, Burke lets out a long and labored breath– too tired to let out another cry for help. Standing in front of him, the Joker watches Burke twitch and twinge, a sadistic grin coming over his face as he observes. “No more screams,” he asks rhetorically, an evil expression cast on his face. “Too bad, you had such a lovely singing voice.”

Burke musters up a small bit of strength, allowing a pool of blood to form in his mouth. With all his might, he spits out the wad of saliva and blood, hitting Belseraph dead in the cheek. The red liquid trickles down the madman’s face, reaching the edge of his jaw and dripping monotonously to the floor. “Go to hell,” Burke grunts as he exhales.

“Well, that’s rather rude,” he says, almost in an oblivious manner. “Of course, what should I expect from a trespasser.” He turns slightly, looking to his reptilian lackey standing at the back of the tent. “Am I right?”

“You got it, boss.”He agrees with a nod. Next to him, a man dressed as a doll stands limply, resembling that of a child’s toy.
“Of course,” he agrees as well, his voice higher pitched than his henchmen comrade.


“I’m a little insulted, Detective,” the Joker begins as he wipes the trail of blood from his face with the back of his sleeve. “I mean, we go to all this trouble to entertain you, and you spit in my face, haha” he says in a jovial manner. “Literally…”
“You should punish him, boss,” Rag Doll interjects. “Maybe let Croc eat him.”

“Haha, marvelous!” He shouts, grinning wider than usual. Belseraph turns and begins walking toward his minion, approaching him with wide eyes and a brutal smile. “Oh, yes, that’s a great idea!” He begins, full of enthusiasm. “And then Croc can run the show, and plot the schemes, and continue the grand orchestra of chaos I’ve been composing with such passion and fervor for the last three years.”

Belseraph’s tone suddenly changes; his demeanor becomes darker as the muscles in his face droop to a frown. His eyes thin as he contorts his face, and anger begins to seethe from his pores.
“Gee, boss, I don’t think we’ve got to go that far,” the Rag doll replies, snickering nervously as he tries to blow off the whole ordeal.

“You know … what I think?” He asks, his voice drawn out as he clings on every word. The Rag Doll stares at his leader, intently listening as he prepares for an answer.


Suddenly, the Joker drops a knife from the inside of his sleeve, grabbing it tightly within his fingers as the sharp surface glimmers in the weak light. Forcefully, he thrusts the blade forward, stabbing his minion repeatedly in a violent frenzy. “I think you need to SHUT UP,” he snarls, sending another jab into the man’s side. “and KEEP your MOUTH SHUT for a change!” Blood covers the floor, staining the ground in crimson puddles.

Belseraph ends his assault as soon as it began, dropping the weapon to the floor as he breathes heavily. “Next time you’ve got an idea, keep it in your tangled little head.” The Joker grows quiet as he stares at the Rag Doll keenly, failing to blink as the moments pass. Croc looks to his beaten friend nervously, watching him writhe in pain as the blood continues to exit from his wounds.

“Uh, Boss,” Croc begins, bravely speaking up. “Should I… should I go stitch him up?” Belseraph looks up, his appearance now calmer and more serene.

“Yes, that might be a good idea,” he starts, running his hand through his hair and pushing it back. “A nice line across his lips should do it.” Croc turns to his leader with a confused look, unsure of whether or not the command was serious or a joke. As Croc stands still like a statue, he stares at Belseraph, hoping to get a clue from his expression. “Well,” he grunts, his brow beginning to furrow.

“Yeah, yeah – okay,” he says hastily, moving over to his comrade and picking up his bloody body carefully. Croc turns abruptly without another word and exits the tent, taking the rag doll with him as he moves.
“Haha, you’ll have to excuse that,” the Joker says, turning back to detective Burke. “The boys get a little weak in the knees when I’ve got to correct them, heheh.”

“Y-You’re a… psycho, you know that?” Burke groans, struggling to speak.
“Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure you’ve locked up Joe’s more eccentric than I.”

“I can’t wait…” Burke begins, twitching slightly as a wave of pain shoots up his spine.
“Wait?” He inquires, his voice back to its falsely friendly manner once again. “Wait for what?”

“Red Hood,” he says with a wheeze. “He’ll find you, I may be dead by then, but I know, he’ll f-find you – and when he does? … he’s gonna rip you apart.” A prying look comes over the Joker’s face as curiosity fills his being.

“There’s that name again, ‘Red Hood’. Tell me, who is this man you have so much faith in?”

“He’s a … a vigilante … runs around beating freaks like you for fun.”

“Red Hood … Red Hood,” he stops for a moment as he thinks, remembering something familiar about the name. “Wait, wait, wait. This ‘Hood guy, he wear a red helmet?” Burke nods. “Hahahahahaha!” Belseraph giggles maliciously, bursting into laughter. “HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“What’s … so f-funny?” Burke asks, his voice strained.
“Hahaha, oh, haha … it’s nothing, really,” he begins, gaining his composure. “But, your friend, there? I beat him to death – with a crowbar! HAHAHAHAHA! Left him in a burning building to smolder, hahaha!”

“I know,” Burke says, wincing as he tries to adjust himself on the horrid device. “That’s why he wanted to find you. That’s why … he wants to kill you.” Belseraph cuts his laughter short, turning his mood to one more serious and focused.


“So, he survived that, did he? … Resiliant little nut, isn’t he?” Belseraph reaches into the pocket of his tight, black pants, pulling out Detective Burke’s police badge. He holds it up eye level, staring at the detailed, golden design as he breathes softly. “It doesn’t matter,” he starts, slipping his finger up the back of the badge and unhooking the pin from its clasp. With a quick, violent motion, he jabs the pin into the base of the detective’s neck, plunging the thin metal spike into the man’s muscle. “At the end of the day, he’s just another pain in the neck – HAHAHAHA!”

Burke begins to cry silently in pain, too weak to form words or even sounds. Instead, the strong sound of wind forced through his throat quietly resonates inside his mouth. The Joker spins around, grinning widely as he makes his way toward the exit of the tent. “Dust the furniture and sweep the floors, boys! We’re having company…”

****
 
Thaal Sinestro
Green Lantern

Less than 5 hours after my conversation with Tomar Re I exited Oa's atmosphere, an emerald comet shooting upward. Watching Oa shrink behind me felt good. I had been stuck there ever since the attack and it was quite the relief to be back up where I belong. It had taken minimal amounts of convincing for Tomar Re to allow me to fly solo on this mission. Of course he had pretended to think about it, but both he and I knew the worst thing the New Guardians could do was clash heads with me in the slightest. Since William Hand's attack on Oa, after the ridicule I had been subjected to, I had become somewhat of a hero to the Corps. Standing up for what I believed in the face of great, the greatest, adversity. The very personification of willpower.

A welcome change of pace, having the entire Corps behind me, backing me up. Sycophants, mostly. But something had stuck with me, on my way out of Oa. An older Lantern, his arm in an blue-energy sling, remarked to his trainee, "I'm telling you, kid. Thaal Sinestro is so popular right now I'm pretty sure if he broke away and started his own Corps, Lanterns from all over would be lining up."

An interesting though. But one I pushed back to the back of my mind as I came to the end of flight.

Sector 2828

Planet Okaara

There are several planets in Larfleeze's sector but Okaara, his homeplanet, was one of the few inhabited. Many Lanterns specifically requested what had become known as the HSH, or 'Home Sweet Home'. Patrolling one's own home sector offered many advantages, one of them being a permanent safehouse within spitting distance, but the Guardians of old rarely complied with the requests. We were told it made it difficult for Lanterns to stay objective. This made it a somewhat debated fact that Larfleeze and his partner Blooch, both of them natives of Okaara, had been assigned to Sector 2828.

I had been in Larfleeze's home city on Okaara for a few hours, questioning the citizens without result when I was pointed in the direction of a small, local bar at the edge of the city. Spotting it from the air I descended on the small establishment. It was a rather rundown little building and I immediately doubted any respectable Lantern would be caught dead in it. It was like a wound on the otherwise sleek, shimmering cityscape.
The moment my feet touched the ground just inches from the door, it opened automatically.

"We're closed."

For a moment I couldn't see a thing. The disembodied voice came from somewhere inside the dark, dingy bar. For a moment, as the stench rushed out to welcome me, I debated whether or not I should enter. I decided my protective aura would shield me from the filth.

"I believe you'll make an exception for the Lantern Corps." I stated as I stepped inside.

When my vision adjusted to the lack of light I spotted the old alien standing in front of the counter, eyeing me suspiciously. "No, no no no, no more. You bastards have done enough damage!"

The barkeep rushed towards me, swinging his hands in the air and shaking his head. It was only then that I noticed the complete disarray of the bar. All four walls were pocked with holes, there was a small hole in the roof that still rained down splinters and pieces of the building. Almost all the furniture inside was smashed to bits. "What happened here?"

The barkeep rushed up to me but decided against forcing me out the door, stopping inches from me and trying to push me out with a dirty look. "A couple of your buddies came in here and trashed the place, s'what happened!"

"What did they look like?"

"They looked like all of you Lanterns look. A bunch of green lights that cause trouble!"

"Humor me." I took a step closer to the barkeep, crossing my arms. Fear swept into his eyes as he remembered what the last Green Lantern to step into his bar did. Quite the underrated tool of the trade, fear.

"The...they looked like me." he muttered, pointing to his own face as if it was nothin to be admired. He was right. "Natives."

Larfleeze and Blooch. I nodded.

"They used to come in here once in a while. Didn't used to be no trouble until a week ago when....well, you see what."

I took a step back from the man and he visibly relaxed. He leaned up against a wall as I had my ring record our conversation. "Tell me what happened."

He paused for a moment, as if he was scared the two Lanterns would come back the moment he talked. "Well, like I said. They used to come in here every so often. They talked, laughed, drank. They were friends, you know? But then they came in here last week and they were screamin' at each other. Really going at it. When it got to people walking out because of them, I asked them to keep it down, you know? But then all of a sudden one of them, I don't quite recall which of them, attacked the other. Shouted something at him and just went nuts. Strangest thing I ever saw, two Lanterns going at it like that."

I nodded, keeping my calm as if I had heard the story before. "You say he shouted something before he attacked, did you hear what he said?"

The barkeep stared out a shattered window that he had crudely tried to shutter. He was silent for a moment before he turned his head back to me. "I think he said 'mine'."

------

I had left the barkeep after our conversation. I told me the two had fought for a while before one of them knocked the other out and dragged him away. The barkeep didn't see where they had gone, he was just grateful they had left. I doubted Larfleeze and Blooch were still on Okaara but I decided to continue my investigation on the planet. A few hours later I got a call from Tomar Re.

"Sinestro." my ring crackled with Tomar's voice.

"I'm here, Tomar." I could sense the urgency in his voice.

"Sinestro we need you to go to Xne'sh, the second moon of Hny'xx. We just picked up a signture on Larfleeze's ring."

I was already in the air. "I'm en route now."

"Sinestro, approach with caution." Tomar warned and I shifted my head as if I could hear him better that way. "The signature we picked up....it's orange energy, Sinestro. You know how dangerous he is with that ring, and if he's turned..."

"Larfleeze is good, Tomar," I assured him, "but I'm better. ETA 34 minutes."

Avarice. Larfleeze, what the hell have you done.

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Red Hood

Trail of Slaugher Part III


Gotham Police Department

Jason Todd stands by the front desk speaking with the secretary behind the bullet proof glass. He slides a large manila envelope under the small opening at the bottom of the glass, allowing the woman to take it. Leaning back in her chair, she quickly reviews the files – examining the paperwork inside.

“Alright, Doctor Todd,” she says, sliding the paperwork back under the glass. “You’re cleared.” Jason smiles as he takes the envelope and slips it into one of the many pockets inside his coat.

“Thanks again, Stacy,” he says smoothly.

“Wow,” the secretary says, pointing to his jacket. “Must have some big pockets in there.”
“Haha, I make do,” he replies indifferently.

“You know, I could just give the paperwork to Sergeant Davies, save you the trouble.”

“No, it’s no trouble,” Jason says with his charismatic smile. “No trouble at all.”
Jason walks to the far edge of the room, opening the door and walking into the main facility room. Inside, Jason walks down the aisles, making his way past the many desks and tables assigned to specific detectives. These spaces are the detective’s ‘offices’, a cubicle-esque enclosure of furniture where the officers complete all their paperwork and assignments.


At the edge of each desk, there is a name plate – designating the space to the officer it belongs to. Jason casually makes his way around the room, searching the name tags for Burke’s desk. As he seeks his friend’s enclosure, he blends in as best he can - making sure he does all within his power not to draw attention to himself. After a few moments, he finds Detective Burke’s desk, “Finally,” Jason says in a whisper as he sits down in the open chair.

Quickly, Jason begins rummaging through the many piles of paperwork that liter the desk top. Efficiently, Jason skims the pages – looking for any key words or clues that could give him a clue as to where Burke could have gone. Most of these are reports for cases from the last five years, Jason thinks to himself. All assignments he’s worked and finished.
As Jason moves another pile of paperwork, his hand knocks the mouse, bringing the screen of the computer to life. As the faint flash of light catches Jason’s eye, he turn to the computer and stares at the desktop. A small box pops up, asking for the username and password to continue.

“Mhh…” Jason muses as he rubs his cheek thoughtfully. “I wonder…”
Typing in the generic username, Jason begins trying possible passwords his friend might have thought to use. “Username: TBurke,” he mumbles. “Password … Birthdate?” He thinks, typing in the code and pressing enter.

“No,” he says as the computer rejects his entry. “Perhaps address?” He wonders, trying again, receiving the same response. “Touche, Tommy. … Let’s see, a password is the key to a person’s secrets … so, that being said, one would chose a something that is, in itself, a secret to them.” Jason pauses, thinking intently as he exercises his psychologic principles. “His address isn’t a secret, nor is his birthday or mother’s maiden name. First girlfriend or name of dog are possibilities, but, there are only so many names in the English language … eventually, someone would find the right one.”

“The name of one’s car type and year is also out – same for the license plate. It doesn’t take a genius to find your car and get the information. No, no … Burke’s a detective – most likely paranoid and intent on maintaining his privacy. He’d want to use something no one would know – or, at least, something no one would know he knew. Of course, he could make up a word or even some goofy phrase, but he’s an officer – he’s seen things most people couldn’t imagine. That type of stress changes you – matures you in a way some might fear.” Jason leans forward, staring with his eyes locked on the blinking cursor in the open box.

“So what is it you know, no one else knows you know, that isn’t obvious or tied to you on paper for peering eyes to uncover.” A few seconds of silence, and a wide grin comes over Jason’s face. “Password: redhood,” he types in hastily, striking the enter key powerfully. Suddenly, the box disappears, and the desktop opens – giving Jason full access to Burke’s personal computer. “Nice job, Tommy. I’m flattered.”

As Jason examines the desktop, he sees many folders filling the space, obscuring the photo of the background of the department’s seal. At the bottom of the screen, Jason sees two browser windows still open. “Left in a rush, did you?” Jason moves the mouse and clicks on the icon, bringing up the windows. One is from the Gotham Times, detailing the arrival of a new traveling circus. As Jason scrolls to the bottom of the page, he soon finds the name – Belseraph’s circus. Quickly, he scrolls back to the top, reading the date of the posted article. “December 2009,” he says aloud. “Not recent – this must have been when it first came to Gotham.”

Jason opens the other window and observes it. It too is another news article, this time, a more recent one from only two weeks ago. Jason reads the content of the article quickly, looking for specific details he might find pertinent. “There,” he says as he reaches the last paragraph. “Belseraph’s circus is making its final tour of Gotham this month. Families can still experience the wonder and amazement of the spectacular acts guaranteed to put a smile on your face. Currently, it is located by the riverside at 208 Ledger Street.” Jason stops reading as he leans back in the chair, taking in a breath of victory. “Bingo.”

“What are you doing?” A voice says from behind, quickly catching Jason’s attention. He turns quickly on the chair, simultaneously closing the two windows on the computer. A female officer stands at the edge of the table, staring intently at him with her hands at her hips – her right resting on her firearm. “Well?” she asks again with a scowl.


“Sorry,” Jason says as he rises from the chair. “Doctor Jason Todd, liason to the GCPD from Arkham. I was looking for Sergeant Davies to drop off a report on Drury Walker.” Jason extends his hand for a polite handshake, but the woman doesn’t move – still watching him closely, seeming not to blink. “Um … who might you be?” Jason asks with a suave voice as he drops his hand back to his side.

“Detective Dagmar Procjnow,” she replies in what seems like a growl. “You know this isn’t Sergeant Davies’ desk right?”

“Yeah … I was waiting for Davies to get back,” he lies, formulating his alibi speedily. “I just took the first open chair I saw.”
“So you sat down at a detective’s desk?”

“Heh, yeah – my apologies, that was probably inappropriate,” he admits in a convincing manner. “It’s just that, this isn’t the first time I was waiting for Sergeant Davies to get back – I didn’t want to stand around for an hour or so.” He explains, faking ignorance.

“Uh-huh,” Dagmar mumbles in aggravation. “Well, Doctor Todd, next time you’re in here? Don’t sit down at someone’s desk.”
“Haha, will do,” Jason nods as he moves to leave.


“Why don’t you give me the file, Doctor Todd. Sergeant Davies won’t be back until noon.” Jason reaches into his jacket and pulls out the file, handing it to her cautiously.

“You’ll make sure it gets to him?” He asks, pretending to care. She nods, and Jason smiles. “Thanks a lot, detective. Have a nice day.” Quickly, Jason turns and makes his way down the aisles and toward the door.

That was close, he tells himself as he hurries on his way. But, in any event, I got what I needed. Looks like I’m going to the circus tonight … hopefully it’ll be a blast.
 
Larfleeze
Green Lantern 2828.1

Xne'sh, second moon of Hny'xx

Dim, gray skies loom over the moon's surface. From space, Xne'sh resembles the eye of a man plagued with catterax - a glowing aura of thick vapors that seem to choke the satellite with its gaseous skies.​

The thick atmosphere traps essential gases like oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide - all necessary for the procurement of life. Acting like a green house, the ozone keeps a steady pressure on the moon - filling the air with thick, humid water vapor. The muggy conditions have allowed strange terrestrial plant life to survive - allowing them to grow to enormous proportions. The tops of the trees seem to scrape the very atmophere itself as they rise high into the sky.​

Under the canopy of the flora, a boggy biome exists. Dark, murky waters fill the crevices of the moon's surface, keeping the ground in a constant state of mud and muk. Beneath the waters are caverns that extend throughout the core of the planet. Valuable mineral deposits line the underground caves, making the moon a desired comodity to planetary miners. However, the stories from explorers have kept the eager opportuinists away. Too dangerous is it to harvest the satellite's resources at the cost of dealing with the moon's flora and fauna.​

On a small expanse of moistened dirt, a thin figure stirs. He pushes his torso up from the ground as mud runs down his body, clinging tightly to his clothes. His eyelids open to reveal ruby red pupils, the crimson veins streaking all about his irises. With a loud cough, he spews liquid black grime from his lungs, gasping for a breath of fresh air only to inhale the hot, humid vapors.​

He kneels still for a few moments as he tries to gain his composure and remember what has happened. His hand rubs against his chest, brushing off the dirt to reveal the emblem of the lantern corps.​

"Lantern ..." he says, his voice no longer filled with the green power of willpower from the ring. As his hand continues to rub away at his bosom, he feels a strange damp liquid wetting the thick fur on his fingers. As he looks down, he sees a dark red fluid staining his body - covering his brown fur and turning it to mahogany. "No ..." he whispers, trying to remember. His mind fills with many thoughts - Who's blood is this? Could it be someone else's? He wonders, desperately trying to make sense of his predicament.​

"Could it be ... " Suddenly, a haunting thought fills his mind, and as he speaks the words, a quick flash of the past returns to him. "MINE," he says aloud, growling in a feral manner. "Blooch ... " he hisses, his eyes growing dark with hate. "He tried to take it from me- I told him, I WARNED him and he ... he did it anyway." In a sudden spurt of anger, he strikes the ground, throwing patches of dirt and moss into the sky.​

"That fool!" He roars, grinding his teeth against each other. "He defied me - ME - tried to take it ... take it from me ..." In a strange change, the lantern's eyes widen - and a paniced thought comes through his head.​

"They know," he whispers to himself, rising to his feet slowly. "The other lanterns know, they'll have felt the shift." He raises his head upward, gazing at the sky with a determined expression. "They're coming for me ... they know what I did." He stops, bearing his teeth as he begins to laugh with a nervous cackle.

"Let them come," he nods, lowering his glance to the terrain before him. "They have no idea what they're getting themselves into ... "
 
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I follow the older, balding man through the office and cubicles. "We don't really like to run a tight ship here at the Gazette. I have a feeling you'll fit right in."

Yep, I'm going from Detective Charles Victor Sage to Charles Victor Sage, Reporter. From tracking down who shot the yo on Adams Circle, to getting quotes about the Kiwanis Club's talent show. Isn't life wonderful sometimes?

"So, you said you had experience before?" The older man asks as he walks me through the newsroom. His name is Arthur Agee. A one-time editor who's now been bumped up to Editor-In-Chief.

"I worked for the Hub City Herald when I got out of high school. Just as a copy editor. That's all."

"Why didn't you keep on? I used to know a guy who worked for the Herald. He said it was a good paper."

"It was. I was just at a point in my life when I wasn't sure of what I wanted to do. Newspapers appealed to me, but I still needed to decide."

"I understand. So, you became a cop. Now that's over, you want to give journalism another shot?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I like these samples you gave me. Didn't think you'd still have them."

"I called my mom. She scanned me a few of the clips and emailed them over."

"Well, if you're interested. I'm offering you the job."

Yep, it's true. The newspaper industry has hit an all-time low.

"Well, sir. I'm happy be aboard."

Agee smiles and motions me over towards a desk where a curly-haired man sits and types away on his computer.

"Vic Sage, I'd like you to meet our City Editor, Alexander Knox."

"Sage?" Knox asks as he looks up from his screen. "Homicide, right?"

"That was me. No more, though. Getting into civilian life."

"Damn. I was hoping to get some info about a double murder out in Northpoint."

Knox extends his hand and we shake quickly.

"Knox, Vic is our newest City GA reporter."

"Sweet, I can really use you right now. There was a armed robbery last night at a Korean check-cashing place. Owners said the robbery was stopped by a man with no face. Guy spooked them so they chased him off, but he left the money. Check that out and see if you can get something."

Knox hands me a notepad, a pen, and the adress of the place I know all too well.

"I'm on my way."

With a nod towards Knox and Agee, I walk out of the newsroom with my newest tools of the trade. A notepad and pen in exchange for a badge and gun.

But there is an upside. Looks like I'm the Question's new publicity agent. Belive me, brother needs all the press he can get.​
 
UltSupermanBanner-1.jpg

Today's just not my day. First I get called on to help stop an alien invasion, then I meet a child apparently from Krypton who seems to have a pretty skewed view of Kryptonian culture, and then I get slapped by a giant starfish in space. Fantastic.

On closer examination of Sta'rro, however, I can see that things get even better up ahead. The skin of the massive invader is actually crawling with smaller (but still pretty big) creatures. They're vicious looking critters too.

Racing back towards J'onn and the monsters that he's now staring down, I fire a volley of heat vision, blasting a number of the parasitic lifeforms back. I then mentally call out -You seem sluggish, J'onn. Are you okay? Did Sta'rro do something to you?-

Before I can 'hear' a response, another of Sta'rro's limbs snaps outward in my direction at lightning fast speed. I'm ready for it this time, though. My fist meets the fleshy alien arm and sinks inward, but manages to connect pretty hard with something solid inside. A skeleton, perhaps? Either way, I stand my ground, so to speak, and I'm not the only one recoiling in pain from the assault, although I think my knuckles are still going to be pretty bruised.

Superman78.jpg


I'm about to let loose another wide beam of heat vision when suddenly my mind fills with this... static. Could Sta'rro be--

Before I know what's happened, a swarm of these parasites are ganging up on me, having jumped from the surface of Sta'rro with leg muscles powerful enough to pack sufficient force in the absence of gravity and send us spiraling in the opposite direction. Not my day at all.
 
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Thaal Sinestro
Green Lantern

Sector 2828

Xne'sh, second moon of Hny'xx

It takes me what seems like a couple of minutes to descend through the impossibly thick atmosphere that blankets Xne'sh. All I see is the gray clouds surrounding me, tinted an eerie green by my presence, while my ring feeds me information regarding the moon and it's atmosphere.

Hardly any of it registers. My mind is focused squarely on Larfleeze and his partner Blooch. According to Tomar Re they picked up a signal from Larfleeze's ring, overtaken by Avarice, which begs the question..What happened to Blooch? I force the grim possibilities from my mind as Xne'sh's surface becomes visible. I'm caught slightly off guard, a price I pay for ignoring my ring's information download, as I nearly crash into the branches of a massive tree shooting up from the ground. Taking a look around the surface is almost entirely covered in enormous vegetation, no doubt made possible by the atmosphere. Spotting a small clearing, I make my landing.

"Ring, power levels."

Power levels at 86%

Past experience has taught me to expect the worst so I decide to conserve energy until I find Larfleeze. The glowing, emerald aura encasing my body recedes until it covers only my mouth and nose, and I immediately feel the dampness set upon my skin. The atmosphere itself isn't toxic but I can image in the stench to be quite unappealing. With my ring acting as a locator I make my way to where Larfleeze's ring was last used. Deciding my best bet for remaining undetected is traveling on foot, except for the occasional river of murky water I hover across, I steel my mind for the possibility of having to fight another Green Lantern. Again.


 
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Bane65-1.jpg


I do not "own" material things and feel entitled to them as most people on this planet tend to do. My belongings are just means to an end: the ruination of Bruce Wayne. The weapons and gangs I use are all just tools to steal this city from him... steal the night from him. Just as he stole my Talia. So believe me when I say that the fact that I am now defending Gotham, in my own way, provokes an unusual feeling inside of me.

Bane25-1.jpg


I have worked hard for my domination of Gotham and the approaching culmination of my vengeance against the Batman, and I am not about to give it all up to these monsters. Hordes of civilians have been reduced to even more mindless slobs than they already were, and are endeavoring to bring my organization into their fold as forcefully as possible.

"Gotham belongs to Bane, you sonsuvb**ches!" My men are far more passionate about defending my holdings than I am, ironically enough. I suppose this could be a good team building exercise, if nothing else. Still, I have instructed them not to shoot to kill if they can help it. A few bodies could be explained away as the result of ordinary Gothamites somehow getting hold of firearms and defending themselves in this crisis. Dozens and dozens of bullet riddled corpses lining the streets, on the other hand, would draw far too much attention when this is all over.

"Sta'rro!" moans the mob as they creep closer.

"Be silent, animals."

Bane63-1.jpg


Met with more weapons fire, the crowd slowly begins to get the message. My strategy here is merely to convince whatever hive mind is directing these things that controlling Bane is not worth getting so many of its slaves slaughtered. "Sta'rro" simply does not currently have sufficient forces in the area to combat me. I only need to make it realize that point and trigger its survival instincts to flee.

Gradually, the crowd of zombies begins to thin out, but, unlike my men, I am under no illusion that this peace will be permanent. Sta'rro's slaves will be back and ready for us next time, unless something is able to stop it. Until then, however, I instruct my men to defend our territory here in the warehouse district while I am gone. I must leave them for several hours to find if there is have been any new discoveries about the nature of this planetary threat.

Bane22-1.jpg
 
Superman! J'onn projected.

The parasitic creatures were swarming all over him, keeping him away. He looked up at Majestic, who was also scaling the monsters skin. He knew that he would need the alien hero in order to defeat Sta'rro. He grit he teeth, kicking off of the surface of the behemoth, much as the parasites had done. He bowled into the mass of flailing alien limbs, grabbing Superman's wrist in a firm grip and pulling him free.

The pair span chaotically in the vacuum of space. J'onn's plan was to gather enough momentum to launch Superman back onto Sta'rro. But then he had a better idea. He kept hold of the hero's arms for a few more rotations. The parasites were making their slow way towards them, beak-like jaws snapping. J'onn shuddered. When they were in the right position, J'onn let go, giving as much of a push as he could. Superman drifted away; towards Sta'rro's great eye. He looked over his shoulder, as the parasites swarmed him.
 
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Mac approaches Rhiannon and says, "You look good. It's nice seeing you again."

Rhiannon takes a deep breath and replies, "It's been a long time Mac and I'm sorry I never called to tell you goodbye but it would've been really awkward."

Mac says, "A lot like this is right?"

Rhiannon nods and asks, "How are you?" She quickly realizes how dumb her question was.

Mac chuckles a bit and says, "I have my good days and bad days like everyone else although my bad days are worse than others. I remarried about a year ago and she's a great lady Rhiannon. Very strong and a great sense of humor. Just what I need right now and she's going to need it in the coming years. You?"

Rhiannon replies, "Not bad at all. I like my life in Gotham not seeing anyone in particular and I'm now the acting head of the bio-lab at WayneTech. I've got a shot at making the job mine for good in the next month when my candidacy goes before the board."

Mac says, "As you know I'm going to be gone soon, and we are looking for a new scientist you interested?"

Rhiannon replies, "No. I'm flattered Mac but like I said I like Gotham, and I'm not the same starry-eyed 1st year scientist anymore. Besides I don't think either one of us needs the potential temptation that I could be present. I left here not only because of the lab accident but also for what happened to your marriage. I sitll feel a lot of guilt over that."

Both of them just stare at one another

Mac says, "I think you should know I told Lamar and everyone else in the control room that I was stepping aside. Lamar will take over for me in this situation. Emil & I will interview the subjects in the stasis room. Just so you know Karen never blamed you for what happened to our marriage. She had a liason as well so she has no room to judge anyone."

Rhiannon says, "Liason you make it sound so romantic. Fact is Mac you and I had an affair and though on some strange level I will always cherish our time together what we did was wrong, and I was a willing participant and I've got to live with that."

Mac stands silently and Rhiannon says, "Besides my double life is something that I enjoy and sooner or later that would get in the way I know it. I can handle a double life as a scientist and super hero, but a triple life as a scientist, super-hero and mistress I can't do it. "

She walks towards him and says, "As The Atom I get to do exploration in ways that others can only dream of and make a difference for my city. In Gotham I am working in a city that has an urban legend as it's protector I have a little more chance to be a known factor. In Metropolis you all got Superman he's a tough act to follow you know."

Mac nods and says, "I told myself that I would be asking strictly for professional reasons not personal that being said though seeing you again makes it difficult. Maybe it is best if you go back to Gotham when this is over."

The two stare at one another for what feels like hours. The finally start to move closer just as they hear someone opening the door. Rhiannon quickly kisses Mac on the cheek and transforms back into The Atom.

Lamar enters the room and says, "The subjects are ready to be interviewed Mac. Where's the Atom?"

Mac replies, "She just floated back out for a moment she is probably back enroute to the control room she's so small you probably missed her."

The two men leave as The Atom sits under the couch for a moment and wipes a tear away and composes herself. She then floats up and back to the control room.

Wonder if any of the others have reported in yet?
 
SELINA KYLE

"I've disabled the elevator, but that'll only slow them down."

Alfred wipes the sweat from his forehead, still holding the coat rack in his other hand. Scattered on the floor at his feet are the bodies of the dead parasites and their unconscious victims. We make a pretty good team, but the sheer numbers are overwhelming. I don't know how much longer we can survive this relentless assault.

An empty magazine drops from my gun, clattering on the floor. "I'm all out of ammunition," I report. "We need a new plan." My eyes crawl across the penthouse, looking for something we can use against the horde. Finally, my gaze lands upon the still-locked door of Wayne's study. "Has Mr. Wayne been in there this whole time?"

Alfred hesitates ever-so-slightly. Most people probably wouldn't notice, but when you're involved in law enforcement you pick up on subtle details. "I suspect when he heard all this commotion, he decided it'd be safest to stay in there," Alfred answers.

"Not a bad idea. Why don't we join him?" I suggest. I tuck my gun into pants before marching over to the study, carefully stepping over the unconscious bodies on the floor. I reach out and try to jiggle the doorknob, but it doesn't budge. I bang on the door. "Mr. Wayne! Open up, and let us in! Mr. Wayne?"

Alfred looks like a deer in headlights.

"Is Mr. Wayne in there, Alfred?"

Nothing.

"You have a key to this room, don't you?"

Still nothing.

"I could always pick the lock."

That gets him moving. "There won't be any need for that," Alfred says calmly. He seems to have regaining his composure - even if he's still a little shaken. Alfred takes out a key and unlocks the door, swinging it open for me.

"Where is he?"

If Bruce Wayne was ever in this room, he certainly isn't now. That means that Alfred lied to me this morning when he said that Mr. Wayne probably stayed in here all night. And all this begs my original question: where is Wayne?

"Where is Mr. Wayne?" I ask forcefully.

"To be perfectly honest, Miss Beaumont, I haven't the slightest idea."

I march up to Alfred, getting right in his face. "Let me make something clear, Mr. Jarvis. Something's going on here. Mr. Wayne isn't who he claims to be. I will find out the truth, and if I discover that you're covering for him, I will bring you down with him." I take out my cell phone and dial Wayne's number. His phone is turned off. Slamming my phone shut, I motion to the door. "You might as well lock us in. We'll stay here until those things are gone."
 
batman9.png



The Narrows

Hammering Maroni's businesses the past few days. ****e houses, drug corners, gambling places all shut down. Lieutenants and soldiers arrested. Sal feeling the squeeze, has to. He'll show his head. That's when I blow it clean off with a shotgun.

Right now, stakeout time. Watching Maroni's porn studio from building next door. No sign of Sal. Watching and waiting. Not alone. Bullock and Driver in the apartment with me.

Drive: "And so the doctor says 'Rectum? Damn near killed 'em!'"

Bullock laughs. Shake my head. Driver tried to kill me, I lit up Bullock with a taser. Past history forgotten by recent deeds. Gordon sent out word that I'm on the level with his boys. Enough to keep me alive for now. Bullock and Driver don't like it, but they stomach it.

"You two okay here?"

Bullock: "Yeah. Just bring more food when you come back."

"Jesus. I'm starting to figure out where all those tax dollars go. The good people of Gotham are paying for Bullock's burger and doughnut habit."

"Yeah, yeah. Just be lucky you're leaving the MCU soon. You stick around any longer and I'd be tempted to swing a punch."

"Just don't put all your weight into it. There'd be nothing of me left."

Bullock flips me off. Out the door and down the stairs to my car. Pull out my cell and dial HER phone. Maintain phone discipline

"Officer Beaumont? Lieutenant Nygma. I need to meet you to discuss the progress on the Wayne case. Adams Circle, a half hour."

Hang up, start the car and head out.​
 
SELINA KYLE

I arrive at Adams Circle like Nygma asked. In my head, I'm working out what I should and shouldn't tell him. What about Wayne's disappearance during that "Star'ro" incident? It's important, sure, but I still don't have any answers. And, frankly, I don't feel like admitting I let Wayne out of my sight within 24 hours of being assigned to his case.

I see Nygma approaching, so I give a half-hearted, "Hey." As he gets closer, I say, "Judging by the fact that you and I are still alive, I guess Gordon's keeping to his word?" Nygma and I haven't talked much since Holiday's arrest, but he did tell me that Gordon was going to back off. It's nice not to have to look over my shoulder, but I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
 



I see Nygma approaching, so I give a half-hearted, "Hey." As he gets closer, I say, "Judging by the fact that you and I are still alive, I guess Gordon's keeping to his word?" Nygma and I haven't talked much since Holiday's arrest, but he did tell me that Gordon was going to back off. It's nice not to have to look over my shoulder, but I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop.​

"Yeah. He's gone for now. Between you and me, I won't count him out yet."

She doesn't know the whole truth. Protection comes with a price. Tampering with evidence, hidding the truth. Mine and her safety at the cost of my best chance to get to Gordon. Paid in full.

"I've been looking over the files in the Wayne case, digging into Richie Rich's backstory. I'm intrigued by what I'm finding. Have you noticed anything unusual about Mister Moneybags during your time watching him?"
 
"Yeah. He's gone for now. Between you and me, I won't count him out yet."

She doesn't know the whole truth. Protection comes with a price. Tampering with evidence, hidding the truth. Mine and her safety at the cost of my best chance to get to Gordon. Paid in full.

"I've been looking over the files in the Wayne case, digging into Richie Rich's backstory. I'm intrigued by what I'm finding. Have you noticed anything unusual about Mister Moneybags during your time watching him?"
"No," I answer. Nygma is taken aback. I decide to elaborate. "Wayne has acted exactly how you would expect someone in his position would act, and that's exactly why I'm still not sold. It's almost like he's trying too hard, trying to sell his persona. It just doesn't feel genuine."

I pause. Might as well go for full disclosure.

"Wayne does act suspiciously at times, though. Late night 'business calls' that keep him in his study all night, the locked door on that study, and a few weeks ago...he disappeared. Didn't tell me he was leaving. He came back a few days later with a lame excuse. And I think his assistant's covering for him."
 
"No," I answer. Nygma is taken aback. I decide to elaborate. "Wayne has acted exactly how you would expect someone in his position would act, and that's exactly why I'm still not sold. It's almost like he's trying too hard, trying to sell his persona. It just doesn't feel genuine."

I pause. Might as well go for full disclosure.

"Wayne does act suspiciously at times, though. Late night 'business calls' that keep him in his study all night, the locked door on that study, and a few weeks ago...he disappeared. Didn't tell me he was leaving. He came back a few days later with a lame excuse. And I think his assistant's covering for him."

"Yeah. Something is up. I've been doing some digging into his family past. Bruce's father, this Phillip Wayne, there's something off in his past. His family had money, they were well off. They're not exactly the old money power that the Kane family is. But this guy takes the family fortune and just makes it explode. Almost over night, he's bringing in a billion dollars in Waynetech. Something here isn't washing. Like all big money fortunes in America, it's origins can be traced back to a crime. If Bruce isn't dirty, his father certainly was."
 
Thaal Sinestro



Green Lantern


Sector 2828



Xne'sh, second moon of Hny'xx



It takes me what seems like a couple of minutes to descend through the impossibly thick atmosphere that blankets Xne'sh. All I see is the gray clouds surrounding me, tinted an eerie green by my presence, while my ring feeds me information regarding the moon and it's atmosphere.​



Hardly any of it registers. My mind is focused squarely on Larfleeze and his partner Blooch. According to Tomar Re they picked up a signal from Larfleeze's ring, overtaken by Avarice, which begs the question..What happened to Blooch? I force the grim possibilities from my mind as Xne'sh's surface becomes visible. I'm caught slightly off guard, a price I pay for ignoring my ring's information download, as I nearly crash into the branches of a massive tree shooting up from the ground. Taking a look around the surface is almost entirely covered in enormous vegetation, no doubt made possible by the atmosphere. Spotting a small clearing, I make my landing.​



"Ring, power levels."



Power levels at 86%



Past experience has taught me to expect the worst so I decide to conserve energy until I find Larfleeze. The glowing, emerald aura encasing my body recedes until it covers only my mouth and nose, and I immediately feel the dampness set upon my skin. The atmosphere itself isn't toxic but I can image in the stench to be quite unappealing. With my ring acting as a locator I make my way to where Larfleeze's ring was last used. Deciding my best bet for remaining undetected is traveling on foot, except for the occasional river of murky water I hover across, I steel my mind for the possibility of having to fight another Green Lantern. Again.​
A thicket of shrubs rustles at the jungle's perimeter. Ivory tusks poke through the vegetation as wandering eyes hide behind the celadon leaves. Alerted by the magnificent light in the sky, Larfleeze has arrived to investigate – fearing for the worst. With sparing breaths, Larfleeze watches his hunter carefully – kneeling in the mud as still as a statue, unaffected by his surroundings.

As Sinestro begins walking through the open field ahead, Larfleeze sneers. “They sent him?” He asks in anger, the very sight of the lantern building anger inside him. “And alone, at that; arrogant trolls,” he hisses. “Sinestro,” he spits, his saliva dry and sticky like tree sap. “As if he’s the only one capable of challenging the power of the Orange Light. Ha - I'll enjoy watching him swallow his pride with his final breath, knowing that he wasn't as great as he had thought.”

Unbeknownst to him, blood seeps from the open wound at his side as he continues to watch from the bush. Crimson drops fall from his matted fur, falling onto the leaves and rolling down them like a miniature waterfall. Before long, the ground at his feet is stained with his fluid – giving the undergrowth the appearance of scarlet blades of grass.
 
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