The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG, Season 3.0

[Batman]

"Can I help you, sir?"

I glance around, trying to come off as a bewildered tourist. Whenever I heard about the disappearances of Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman, the first place that came to mind for reference was a local shop I've heard of from the slums. They specialize in archiving known paranormal, and more to the point, metahuman sightings. It's alot smaller a place than I imagined, but nonetheless what I'm looking for, as I find myself looking at various alien and ghost themed decorations along the walls. The man behind the counter stares. At first, I think it's because the sunglasses and false goatee I'm wearing are a dead giveaway to a disguise, but I realize he's only staring because I've been looking around for a minute straight. I've seen bizzare hobbies, but...

In any case, I'm not one to judge, given the way I spend my nights.

"Sir? Can I help you?", He asks again, annoyed.

"Uh... yeh. Yeh.", I respond, putting on that annoyingly thick austrailian accent of my underworld counterpart. Malone, I think I called him. "Me and the lady back home just moved here from Sydney, and she's got a thing for this kinda stuff. Figured I'd take a look around. Ya know... birthday present, and all that."

He nods. "Anything you're looking for in particular? We've got a couple cam videos of a few local folk icons, if you're interested. The Ten-Eyed Man, Killer Croc Jones, The Batman..."

I raise my eyebrow. "Uh... thanks, mate, but I'll pass. She don't even believe in that last guy."

"Yeah, I don't blame her.", He shrugs. "They say the guy drinks blood, for godsakes. Me, I'm more of a UFO guy."

I chuckle. More to keep myself interested, than anything.

"Right, right.", I continue. "Actually, she's more into, eh... superhero types, if you get my drift."

"Superheroes?", He asks, with a hint of confusion.

Maybe Alfred's right. I should watch more television.

"Eh... Metas. Power guys. Crap like that.", I shrug. "Like, say... Superman?"

"Oh! Oh, okay. Yeah, we've got a couple of those.", He acknowledges. "Superman, though, I don't know. It's kind of hard to find stuff of him, 'cause of how fast he is. But..."

I narrow my eyes. "But?"

"We did have a video sent in just a couple days ago. Kind of grainy, and I personally doubt it's legit, but it's supposed to be of Superman fighting this giant purple thing."

Giant purple thing? I doubt it's of any relevance, but I'll take what I can find. As long as it's recent enough for me to penpoint when he disappeared.

"Perfect. She eats that stuff up.", I note, with a smirk. "Anything else? Maybe of The Flash, or somethin'?"

He grins. "Boy, did you come to the right place."

"'I'm more of a UFO guy'?"

I look back at Alfred, serious, from plugging in the proper attatchment to the cave's computer. He can't stop himself from chuckling, just thinking about my encounter. Were I any other man, I'd probably see the humor in it aswell. But I am not any other man. And when lives hang in the balance, especially, any chance I have of grabbing amusement from the situation diminishes rather quickly.

"I know. Believe me, it wasn't much better actually being there.", I respond. "But it's not the source that I'm interested in. Especially if these videos are anything of legitimacy."

"And given said source, Master Bruce, why wouldn't they be?", Alfred notes, thick of sarcasm.

I turn around, annoyed. "Regardless, Alfred, this is serious. Many people could be in danger."

Alfred wipes the tear from his eyes, finally stopping himself. "My apologies, sir. But even you must admit, there's a certain level of humor to be found within-"

He pauses, seeing my expression.

"...Apparently not, then."

Ignoring him, I place the DVD into it's proper disc tray, and press play as soon as the video comes up on the screen. Static interference greets me, as I intently watch, waiting for the actual footage. Soon, my wish is granted, as a pair of running sneakers are focused upon, obscured by the rush of an obviously panicked cameraman.

"Oh God, Oh God..."

"Rob! Dude! Where are you going?!"

"Just a second, man! Just a second! Oh, God. Oh, sweet God..."

The camera is flung upwards, revealing a balcony. About mid-day, in a Metropolis neighborhood, from what I can make out. Loud bursts of sonic vibration can be heard, even over the poor sound quality.

"For anyone watching this, about seven minutes ago, some... thing just appeared in the skies, making these loud noises, and well... yeah. It's pretty intense. If I die, I want this tape to be shown to anyone out there. I died watching Superman in action!"

I narrow my eyes, upon those last few words. I've found what I'm looking for.

"Wait. Wait. There he is! Guys, there he is! Come here! YEAH, SUPES!"

I squint, before a blur of blue and red becomes visible. Along with a blur of purple. Two distant objects in the foreground, viciously circling eachother. I pause the tape, just as the objects become clearer. The first object is definitely Superman. I recognize his profile from when we met. The other one, though, has to be something entirely unhuman.

"Not your standard Friday night feature, is it?", Alfred asks.

"I wouldn't call anything about this 'standard', Alfred.", I respond, before pressing in the optical zoom button.

At 200%, the most I can make out is Superman's arm. 300, his cape. 450, his hair. Then by 500%... the other individual becomes visible. My eyebrow arches, as I try to piece together exactly what I'm looking at. But can't, frankly. Because in truth, I've never seen anything like it before in my life. Which could mean it's not from Earth. And Alfred's slight gasp at it's grotesque appearance don't seem to make this any less of a valid theory.

"My word.", He simply states. "Are you saying your friend came across whatever that is, and lost?"

"We're not friends, exactly.", I correct. "But yes, that seems to be the case."

I press play again, keeping the zoom in focus. It's too fast to make out anything. I slow the frame down to half it's speed, allowing me to see what exactly transpires. It seems Superman and the creature are in a struggle, though that's of little surprise. What does surprise me, however, is when I spot something out of the corner of my eye. Instantly, I pause, provoking Alfred's confusion.

"What are you doing?", He asks.

"The creature.", I answer. "It looked like it's jawbone was moving precisely."

"Are you insinutating that this... beast, can talk?"

"There's only one way to find out."

With a right click, I come upon a menu. Scrolling down, I select 'audio filter', before activating a feature that reads 'Auto Enhance'. The volume goes up quite considerably, making Alfred and I flinch as it continues to play. Every sound is blaring. Fire alarms, in the distance. Children playing, on the distant streets. Car horns. All general sounds. But what we hear next is what alarms me the most. Because it's all too familiar.

"-try to merely comprehend how small a star system like this is. It could be taken by you alone into the palm of your hand. So why not conquer it? What drives you to-."

I sneer, listening to the playback. The voice is clear. It's him, or it, whatever properly qualifies. It's this Despero creature. He's the one that's responsible for the disappearances of the metahumans. Superman fought him, and if he would have won, Despero wouldn't have been given the chance to broadcast his telepathic message. Given Flash and Wonder Woman disappeared in a similar time frame, it's easy to suggest that Despero attacked them and systematically took them out in a similar manner to Superman. The how's and why's aren't clear. But I know how to find that out for myself.

He has to be faced by someone who's prepared.

"That voice. That's the one we...?"

"Yes.", I murmur. "Despero. He's the same creature that's threatened to enslave mankind. And it seems he was powerful enough to wipe out Superman and the other two. Possibly more."

Alfred looks at me, worriedly.

"If I may be so bold. What is the world coming to, these days?"

"I wish I knew, old friend.", I reply, staring at Despero's frozen image on the screen.

"I wish I knew."

"S'cuse me. Mail for the Captain."

The secretary of the Gotham Police Department's GCPD looks up, seeing an elderly mail clerk with a telegram in his hand. The secretary nods, with a smile, before taking it.

"I'll make sure he gets it."

The mail clerk tips his hat, before continuing on, rolling a small, metal cart full of paraphinelia for the other officers. The secretary places the letter next to her computer, before continuing to type up a report. But as she does so, she pauses, noting something in her mind. They've never had a mail clerk. Turning, suddenly, she looks to see where the man has gone to... but he's nowhere in sight. And neither is the cart.

Cautiously, the secretary turns to the letter, and immediately opens it, expecting some kind of practical joke. What she finds is something much more urgent...

Gordon -

Found source of telepathic disturbance. Need you to call a press conference. Challenge being known as 'Despero' to SWAT combat. I'll do the rest.

- B

The secretary stares at the letter, unsure of what to think, as the mail clerk watches from a rooftop, across the way. As he leaves, he determinedly thinks only one thing to himself. Now, for the preparations...

 

[Saved]

Gordon stands in front of a television in the briefing room. Behind him stand some police officers, none of them his own. Gordon's untouchables are still all out on missions, spread thin around the city. As Gordon and the other officers keep their eyes on the television's flickering screen, they watch in shock and horror as the Joker's randsom plays.

"See? This is news I can live with!" The Joker's terrifying laugh blares loudly through the speakers, and the tape cuts off. As the newscaster begins to comment on the message, Gordon raises the remote and turns the device off. He runs his hand through his hair as he lets out a heavy sigh. He knows things are looking ugly. And in Gotham, there is always more beneath the surface.

"Cap," one of the officers says, coming up behind Gordon. "Captain, what are we gonna do?" Jim rubs his weary eyes and breathes slowly.

"I don't know." He says remorsefully. The other officer quickly fills with anger, and his temper flares.

"Dammit!" He says, punching the desk. He takes a heavy breath, and suddenly turns back to Gordon with a grin. "I got it. Let's get the Batman! Joker wants him? We'll deliver him on a platter." Gordon gets up from the desk and walks past the officer, his disposition tired and irritated.

"If we haven't arrested the Batman already, what makes you think we'll catch him when it's convenient?" Gordon shoots the officer a hopeful smile as he passes him, and walks into the hallway.

As Gordon walks down the hallway, he pulls out the cellphone in his pocket and begins to dial. Just then, the officer from the other room enters the hallway, and follows after Gordon. "Captain!" He shouts, jogging up beside Jim. "Captain, isn't there anything I can do, sir?" Jim smiles to him, and puts his hand on his shoulder.

"You want to help? Get a hold of Detectives Sawyer, Grayson, Bullock, and Bard."

"How will I do that, sir?" He asks Jim with a faithful voice.

"I don't know." Jim says, hitting the "call" key on his phone and raising it to his ear. "I've been trying to do it all night." The officer stops in the hallway and stares at Jim as he walks down the hall and turns into the lobby.

As Gordon walks through the large open area to the secretary desk. The officer sitting behind the desk flags Jim over, and he approaches the desk. The phone continues to ring in Gordon's ear, and he waits patiently for someone to pick up. As he listens, the officer hands him a letter and mouths "for you", to him. Jim nods and takes the letter, opening it and pulling out the note inside.

On the phone, the ringing stops and the voicemail picks up. "Hi, you've reached the Gordon residents," his wife's voice says in a friendly manner. "We're not here right now, so leave a message after the beep and give us your phone number, and we'll be sure to return your call." A pause, and then a long beep. Gordon rolls his eyes as he flips open the letter, and he leaves his message.

"Honey, it's Jim." He starts, his voice filled with a mix of emotions. "Look, things are pretty hectic around here right now. I don't think I'll be able to make dinner." He pauses, and lets out a sigh. "I don't know if I'll be coming home tonight either. Just tell Barb I'm sorry I couldn't make it." Jim looks at the note, and sees the signature at the bottom. A "B". He skims the letter quickly and Jim soon realizes how much more complicated his night has gotten. "It's going to be a long night."

Jim sighs once more, and pulls the phone from his ear. He terminates the call, and closes his phone. Slipping it into his pocket carefully, he raises the letter in his hand and reads it once more.

Gordon -

Found source of telepathic disturbance. Need you to call a press conference. Challenge being known as 'Despero' to SWAT combat. I'll do the rest.

- B

Gordon shakes his head, and folds the letter back into a rectangle. He places it in the interior pocket of his coat, and he hastily makes his way to the door. As Gordon walks down the stairs to the police station, he hears a muffled message come through on his radio. Jim quickly reaches onto his belt, and pulls his radio off and brings it to his mouth.

"Say again? This is Captain Gordon."

"Jim?" A familiar voice says. "Hey, it's Sargent Bullock."

"Harvey," Jim says with a sense of relief. "Finally, I've been trying to reach you all night."

"Sorry, boss." Harvey says with his usual tone of confidence. "Radios were out or somethin'."

"Yeah, everything seems to be going our way tonight." Jim says, rolling his eyes. "Look, Harvey, I need you to come back to the station. When you get here, I'll brief you on what's going on."

"We've got a situation, boss?" Jim grins sarcastically, and laughs nervously.

"You could say that."

"Gotcha, Boss." Harvey says compliantly. "I'm in the lower west side. I'll be there in ten."

"Make it seven, Bullock. Time isn't our friend. Not tonight."

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...

Several days later, Orin was brought before the Council once more. Although, he went before the Council without any worry. Each night, Vulko would visit Orin, and tell him of the discussions that took place concerning his stay in Poseidonis. In doing so, it allowed Orin to be prepared for when the day came when the Council would decree what shall be done with him.

"Orin of...the Sea--since you seem to bear allegiance to no one--...you are brought here today before the Council to hear our decree. Today, your Fate is decided."

"Forgive me for the intrusion, milord, but Fate is something that cannot be decided by the World of Men, but rather by the Sisters of Fate."

Daus, as well as a few of the other Council Members immediately look at Nuidis Vulko. The elected leader of the Council, his actions and words are heavily watched. Vulko himself shows a face of worry, for if Orin continues with such outbursts, Vulko feels as though he will be out of power to help. Speechless, Daus stands up from his seat.

"Fate is decided by our Lord Poseidon, foreigner. And his decree has been passed down to us, to be but the medium. You will hold your tongue with such blasphemies; especially when your Fate does infact rest in our hands. Tell him already, Vulko. Tell him what our Lord Poseidon would--"

"The Gods of Olde have abandoned you. They abandoned you eons ago. You look like an intelligent man, Daus. Do you honestly believe that--"

"ORDER! I will have ORDER! Daus, sit down! I will not have such bickering within these walls. Allowing such to take place last time was a mistake, which I have learned from and--"

*BOOM*

It feels as though the very core of the city shakes. Everyone gets bewildered, looking all around them.

*BOOM*

The quakes within the city grow stronger, and things start to fall over, crashing and some breaking as they make contact with the floor. All look over to Nuidis Vulko for guidance, but his eyes do not look to where the sound is coming from; his eyes look to Orin.

The great, big doors, open, and a frantic and scared Poseidian rushes to the center.

"It's a Sea Leviathan! It's making its way towards the city!"

Without even taking the time to think, immediately Orin dashes out of the room. The Council Members too start to flee their current positions, exiting to the outside. It's size larger than almost any other sea creature, it can be seen in the distance. Orin swims to the heart of the city at its center, and swims to the top of the tallest building.

"This could be a problem."

 

[Saved]

The wind blows a swift but cool breeze over the rooftops of Gotham. It is midnight, the clock's fingers slightly moving past the twelve as the second hand continues on its circular track. Sirens blair in the distance, and the sounds of the city cry out to the skies.

Captain James Gordon leans against the edge of the roof of the MCU, the small of his back up against the rough corner of the boundary. he breathes slowly, his breath showing a soft white cloud in front of his face. It hovers for a second, only to be blown away by the passing breeze.

As the clock shows five past, the door to the rooftop opens quickly. Harvey Bullock walks onto the floor and toward Gordon with a hasty pace. Gordon stares at the detective as he walks to a position in front of him, and stands ready.

Gordon opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, the door opens once more, and another detective walks onto the roof. Gordon stares at her with surprise, recognizing the face but not expecting it. "Maggie..." he says softly, taken off guard.

"Sorry I'm late, Jim." She says, shaking her head as she takes a spot next to Bullock. "Had a drug bust up town. Bullock briefed me on what he knows." Jim shakes his head and releases a heavy sigh.

"I'm not sure how much that is," he says solemnly. He looks over to Maggie and gives her a kind smile. "I'm glad you're okay." Maggie smiles, and Jim nods to her. Clearing his throat, Jim prepares to speak once more. As he breaths in, the door opens once more, and two more detectives walk onto the scene. Jim watches them as they come in, recognizing them instantly without hesitation. Even in the pitch black night, Jim knows his men; his Untouchables.

"Detective Montoya, Bard." Jim says with a nod. "Glad you could make it."

"Things are rough, Captain." Bard says with a respectful voice. "Sorry we couldn't come in sooner." Jim shakes his head slowly and gives an awkward smile.

"You don't need to tell me, Jason." He says, looking up to the stars. "Things are never silent in Gotham."

As Gordon collects his thoughts, the others stand and wait. Harvey Bullock chews anxiously on his lower lip, his mind running wild, filled with questions that his mind begs to be answered. Impatiently, Bullock grunts, and breaks the silence. "So, uh, Cap, we waitin' for the Bat or what?"

"No, Harv." Gordon says, coming back to the group and turning to them. "Just taking a moment."

"Moment to...?" Bullock asks, unsure.

"Just to breath. To think. To just...stare." Gordon pauses, listening to the city as she screams. He lifts his hand out of his pocket, and moves it to his brow. Gently, he wipes away the sweat onto the back of his hand. He slowly places his hand back in his pocket, and he takes a quick breath.

"I take it no one has heard from Grayson?" The others shake, and Gordon frowns. "Or Corrigan?" Once again, no response is given from the group. Gordon pushes off of the boundary at the edge of the rooftop, and begins to slowly pace about. "Then we're all here."

"As you all should know, Commissioner Loeb has been kidnapped. By whom? I don't think it's really that hard to deterimine, even if he didn't leave the trail that he did." Gordon takes a pause for only a second. "Joker wants Batman. He said if any of us interfere, he kills Loeb." Harvey smirks, moving back and forth on his legs, shifting his weight.

"So we're going to interfere then?"

"Later, Harvey." Gordon says with a saddened tone. "As badly as I want Loeb back, there's a bigger problem."

"Bigger?" Montoya asks. "What's bigger?"

"Imagine a threat that attacks not the city, not the body, but the mind. Now, imagine this threat attacking you...and you don't even know it."

"...what freak is it this time?" Harvey asks angrily.

"This being is many things, Harvey. But...he is not a freak. No, a freak is someone who is crazy, twisted in all ways with no motives or plans. This threat...it is not a freak. It's a monster." The detectives look to eachother, each unsure of what Gordon means. Gordon looks over to them and sees the confusion on their faces. "Batman is going after him. It. Whatever you want to call the thing. He can't help us with Gillian, until we help him with this."

"Why should we care!?" Harvey blurts out. "Come on, Gordon, do we really care what the Bat does? We're cops! We handle the problems in our city!"

"Harvey, you know as well as I the Joker isn't one for dry threats!" Gordon retorts in a frustrated tone. "He's got eyes all over the city, ears in every house, every room. He gets one wiff of a plan to catch him, Gillian dies, and our whole 'plan'? It's useless."

Harvey suddenly frowns, realizing what Gordon says is the truth, no matter how badly he doesn't want to accept it. Gordon takes a breath and calms himself down, trying to keep his cool with his men. He knows they all want the same thing, that none of them are wrong or apathetic. But he also knows things must be handled carefully. It's never easy in Gotham.

"Alright, so Gillian Loeb is second priority. But just because it's second don't think it isn't imperative." Gordon takes a moment, turning to the city and staring at the lights in the distance. He sees the skyscrapers, their white lights like a beacon in the distance. It is late, and Gordon is tired. He turns back to the group and keeps his tone. "We're going to hold a press conference tomorrow. SWAT teams will be there for back up. We're going to address this 'monster', and hopefully, set up the Batman to take it out." The detectives nod to Gordon, understanding their priorities and objectives without even being told. Bard leans back on his thighs and gives a look of curiosity.

"Uh, Captain?" He asks, chewing the piece of gum in his mouth slowly. "What is this 'monster'?" Gordon stares at Bard, looking deep into the man's eyes. He keeps eye contact, unfaltering and unbreaking for a moment as he takes a moment to pause.

"Despero." Gordon says. "That's all I know." Gordon walks to the end of the line and heads for the door. As he reaches for the handle, he opens it and prepares to enter the stairwell. Suddenly, he stops, and he turns back to the group. "Detectives...I'm going home to my family tonight. I'm going to get a couple hours sleep and get ready for tomorrow. Harvey, I want you to call the mayor for me and get the press conference set up for ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

"You got it, Captain." Harvey says enthusiastically. Gordon smiles, and nods to him proudly.

"Good. Good. As for the rest of you? I want you here tomorrow at eight. Be ready for orders."

"But...Captain." Montoya says, catching Jim before he can step to the next stair. "We normally come into work before six." Jim grins widely to the young detective. He turns forward, and begins walking down the stairs.

"I know." He says as the door closes behind him. "Get some rest." His voice trails off, and soon, all that can be heard is the soft pit pat of footsteps on the stairs.

Left alone on the rooftop, the Untouchables stare at one another in silence. They shift and turn, walking about on the roof as they slowly make their way to the door. As they follow after one another, Bard coughs, and wipes his mouth.

"So...am I the only one who is unsure of what's going on around here, or what?"

"Gordon was pretty vague." Harvey says, opening the door to the stairs. "Things have been tough right now. Guess it's gettin' to him."

"Maybe it's all the time he's been spendin' with the Bat." Bard smirks, following Harvey down the stairs.

"When Gordon starts disapearing mid sentence, I think then I'll worry."

"Worry?" Bard grins. "I think I'll have him committed."

The detectives laugh, something they haven't been able to do in quite sometime. To them, this is the calm before the storm. Things look harsh, the road a head bumpy. But they haven't gotten there yet. They all know it's coming, they all know it's unescapable. As they wait to face the future, all they can do is prepare. And wait.

 

[Batman]

"I have to say, Bruce, this is a pretty unusual request."

I narrow my eyes at the design specifications I've put forth. Lucius goes over them, carefully, trying to decipher just how he's going to be able to get WayneTech's team to agree to make this a reality, much less the possibility of it's execution. I know I'm asking him for much more than he feels he can handle... but the truth is, he's the only one I can trust to make this happen.

Pointing to the designs to the right, I put on a reassuring smile. "Not as much as you're making it sound. Most of these applications were availible to access when I was still on the board. And I'm sure they're obscure enough now to avoid any trouble from Zeus."

"Well, I suppose not. And keeping my career status consistent would definitely be a plus, but..."

My tone lowers, unenthusiastically.

"But you're still not sure it can happen."

He shakes his head, leaning back in his work station's chair. It isn't a dismissal more than it's a look of uncertainty. And given the timespan I've put forth, I can't nessecarily blame him. He doesn't even know the true purpose of it all - a fact of which doesn't help matters. But it has to be done, even if I'm to set it up myself.

That, being a moderately sized re-enforced chamber, located in the southeast warehouse on the former Wayne Enterprises storage docks. It was condemned, once my successor in Maximilian Zeus decided that the archival weaponry we had developed for military application was simply a waste of space. But no one's touched it since, and after a few signed contracts, I had already made it my own personal property... leaving it open to improvement.

Usually, I wouldn't take such precaution. But my equipment and vehicles already stored in The Batcave were designed to provide defense against human threats. Ordinary citizens. The psychotics that I usually find myself up again. Despero, however, is nothing of the sort. And if the creature's powerful enough to take on Superman, not to mention broadcast a wide ranged telepathic message across the world, then it's not hard to imagine that it's going to take more than a couple of bolas to subdue him.

This chamber could be that very weapon. An almost completely mechanical prison filled with state-of-the-art traps, signature scanners, hidden weaponry concealing everything from lasers to nerve gas, and the primary feature... something I'm going to be keeping a secret to myself until the time comes.

Lucius looks up at me, bewildered. "And you need it now? For what purpose, again?"

"Nothing more than a bit of financial storage, Lucius.", I answer with a shrug. "My lawyer's idea. With all of the robberies and weirdos running around town, keeping my money in a bank didn't seem like the greatest idea in the world. I needed something with a more... personal touch."

"You could always hide it under your matress, like I do."

I smile again. "True, but I think mine's a bit more expensive than your's. Try convincing a thief not to look under there."

He considers this, before looking back to the designs.

"I'm not saying it's impossible yet, Mr. Wayne. But there are things you have to consider before going into a project like this. It'll probably take a day to sign away the worker's contracts alone, not to mention secure the rights to all of the equipment you want brought in. And then there's installation fees, satellite hook-ups for the computer controls..."

Clearing my throat, I try not to allude to the stress of the situation. But with time out of my hands, and potential lives at stake, that's becoming more difficult than ever. For the first time, I'm facing something bigger than I ever trained for. And unlike the invasion in Metropolis, I can't rely on the help of others. This is my undertaking, and mine alone.

"Let me worry about the write-ups, and the expenses. I just need your clearance and the equipment."

He looks skeptical, now, as he stands up.

"You do realize what you're asking of me, right? My career could sink on this, not to mention question my loyalty to Zeus. And if there's one thing he demands of me, it's that. I'll lose more than my job, if anyone finds out."

I look into his eyes, confident. "Lucius, I know how devastating this could be to you, and to your family. And if anything goes wrong, I promise I'll compensate you in any way I can. But I need you to trust me. Because to me, this is an investment worthy of that."

He remains silent, for a passing moment. Then grabs the designs, before giving me a stern look.

"I don't know if I believe you're telling me the truth about what this is for. But I'll help you this one time, Bruce. Only out of our friendship. Don't expect me to make a habit out of taking these risks."

I give an understanding nod, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Believe me, I can only ask a favor like this out of my real friends. You have nothing to worry about."

But I do. However, if this works... my chances against Despero just went up a little higher.

 

[Andy C.]

Amidst shattered towers and ruined homes, I search for my enemy, as she hunts me in return. To be in this blasphemous inversion of my own world is to be both grievously offended and utterly horrified. Offended to know how perversely the gifts of the gods have been abused here...

...and horrified to know that this is possible on my world as well.

I hear a tinkling of broken glass above and behind me. That is the only warning I get as Warrior Woman swoops down, like a bird of prey. I deflect what should have been a killing blow, a forearm chop to the jugular with her own Gauntlets, lined with rows of spikes.

"The Gods of your world gave you nothing that will keep you alive much longer," she says as she grinds her Gauntlet--clearly the work of Bia--into my own. "You can shield yourself, yes, but you have no weapons. And with no weapons, you have no power."

Slowly, her strength seems to increase--indeed, I see her tiara has the markings of Cratos on it, runes that begin to glow brighter as she presses on her attack. It is becoming more apparent that I cannot defeat her with brute force.

Fortunately, brute force is only one thing I have going for me. While the violence of Bia and the chaos of Eris guide her, the wisdom of Athena guides me.

Just as she rears back for a killing stroke, I drop down, slipping under it and inside her defenses. A quick thrust upwards and my knee connects with her jaw, rattling the area around us as she tumbles through the air, arcing upwards before careening into the ground.

"That is for thinking that destruction is power," I say as I pull the Golden Lasso from my belt. "And this will be for every innocent you've killed."

As I ready my Lasso, the twisted double lashes out with one of her own--a cord of bloody crimson, which finds my neck and tightens around it like a noose.

"Then this will be for every inferior you've refused to kill," she says, her words punctuated by a crippling agony that shoots through my body.

I close my eyes for a moment...and when I open them, the world is fire and blood.

Themyscira's power is shattered, the Amazons clawing at each other like animals. My mother is being flayed alive, my sisters being violated by abominable creatures, in appearance and in method too horrible to describe.

The Patriarch's World is torn apart by forces from within and without. Whole cities cannibalize each other before being swept away in the fiery oblivion of a mushroom cloud. Mothers and fathers cower helplessly as mindless and faceless wretches drag their children away to unspeakable fates. Superman's head sits on a pike, the Batman being burned alive by the demons he disguises himself to be.

The world dies over and over, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

"Yessss..." I hear Warrior Woman's voice distantly, "know the embrace of the Nightmare Lasso, the tribute of Morpheus to his new master Ares. Know what it is to see your every fear come to life before you. And know that this is a nightmare from which you can never awake."

All around me there is screaming and burning, slaughter and rape, fire and doom. And I am cold and alone.

"Know the Nightmare Lasso as it knows you...and know it will burn out your very soul."

 

[Batman]

""Harvey? Harv-"

With a loud and disgusted click, the man now only known as Two-Face snapped his cellphone together, finally ridding himself of The Joker's annoyingly high pitched laughter. His teeth grinded together, as he thought of any possible reason to keep that psychotic alive, and subsequently failed to find one. Why did he ever ally himself with such a nuisance? It was clearly a mistake. But there-in lied the answer itself - it was a mistake. And who did he know that was prone to such failure? Dent. It's always Dent. He's the failure.

Closing his eyes, Two-Face had nearly forgot he had been holding a revolver deadset to the back of the taxi driver's seat. The driver looked back, worriedly, as the scarred side of his captor's face was illuminated by the light outside. It was a sickening sight to withstand, but the driver looked forward and continued on the road, knowing that any second he angered his passenger could mean certain death.

Just as this transpired, Two-Face's eyes seemed to jolt open immediately. He looked to the driver, emotionlessly wavering the gun back into place at the back of the seat. "Tell me. Do you have a family?"

The driver looked up into the rear-view window, visibly shaken by the criminal's tone. He remained silent. Maybe he wouldn't mind. But unfortunately, this only seemed to agitated Two-Face, as he placed his thumb on the hammer of the gun, and clicked it.

"Answer me."

The driver panicked, increasing the speed of the vechile, before calming enough to slow down and stop at a red light. "Y... Y-Yes. Yes, I have a family."

Two-Face sneered. But after a tense moment, he unloaded the round before it could be fired, and snapped the barrel of the gun back into place, sparing the driver's life. The driver breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as Two-Face sat back, inching the weapon against the seat once more.

"That's good for you. A man needs a family to keep his life whole. To provide balance in such a stressful world.", He calmly continued. "I had a family once. Then I lost her. Now look at me."

Needless to say, the driver didn't.

"Sometimes, I think it's drove me crazy. But then I realize to myself that that's a decision out of my hands. It always was."

The driver nodded, partly to convince Two-Face he was paying attention. The truth is, he was more focused on the road, and trying to ignore the fact that the gun was still placed at his back. But that didn't hide the subtle quivering, as his hands shook on the wheel of the vehicle.

Two-Face looked outside the window. "Alot of things are out of our hands, in this city. Things that can be changed for the better. But it's the people who take away that freedom that make Gotham what it is today."

The criminal looked towards the pristine skyscrapers above him, and snarled. "Facetious. Deceitful. Ugly, at it's very core. People that take away the balance hold the keys to the souls of Gotham's citizens."

The driver looked back, once, before nervously nodding. "Y-Yes. I suppose so."

"Suppose so?"

Two-Face looked over, bitterly, having mocked the driver's own words. "No. No supposition. There's only fact. Gotham City sold it's soul to the devils that walk this Earth a long time ago. People like Cobblepot, and Loeb. And The Batman. Those who represent a corrupt order."

Placing his thumb on the hammer of the gun once more, Two-Face watched as the driver began shake more convulsively, trying his best to control it. It was a pitiful sight. Almost as disgusting as looking at himself in the mirror. This is what Gotham's ordinary people had been reduced to: sniveling wrecks, held together by a promised safety provided by unlawful protectors. It was enough to make Harvey Dent and all of his loved ones roll in their proverbial graves.

Because, of course, Dent was dead. There was only Two-Face.

"Quit your sniveling. You make me sick. All of you."

The driver looked back, confused, as Two-Face placed the gun back, and reached into his pocket. From there, he produced the familiar silver dollar coin between his fingers, holding it up in the light for the driver to see.

"This is a true order. A real order. The kind that isn't capable of betraying it's loyal followers. With this, there are only two types of justice: Life, and Death."

Two-Face aimed the gun. "And right now, it's order will be done."

The driver closed his eyes, trying not to cry. He thought of his kids, naturally, and his wife. How they wouldn't be able to survive without his support. He was a good man, for thinking that. And that was exactly why Two-Face had chosen this particular cab, on this particular day: Only the good men were unpredictable.

"P-Please. Please, I didn't do anything to you. I have a family. I have a wife. Kids. They need me. Please don't kill me. Please don't make them suffer. I'm begging you."

Two-Face lowered his head, looking at the contents of his own palm, as the coin rolled into it.

"I'm not the one you should be begging."

With a careful toss, Two-Face watched as the coin flipped, and landed back into his palm. Closing it immediately, he held it up, so the driver could see it's outcome. Cautiously, the driver looked, unsure of what he was looking at in the first place...

It was heads. The clean side of the coin. Two-Face retracted it, provoking even more confusion from the driver, and placed his coin back into his jacket. The driver breathed heavily, now, knowing he was still alive.

"Justice has spoken.", Two-Face stated, before looking back out of the window. "Now drive. I have an appointment to keep."

And so he did.

 

[Saved]

Driving slowly down the crowded street, Jim Gordon maveuvers his car carefully past the rows of cars to his sides. The street is packed, cars bumper to bumper next to the City Hall building. Gordon yawns as he turns the corner, hoping to find any spot available. To his pleasure, he soon sees an open space down the next street a bit. He smiles lightly as he accelerates toward the spot. Carefully, he pulls into it, easing the car ever so slightly into the narrow area. He places the car in park, and pulls the keys from the ignition.

Opening the door, Gordon steps out into the street. He places his hat over his head and breaths in a fresh breath of the morning air. He adjusts his coat, and begins making his way to the sidewalk on the otherside of the street. As his feet step off the black asphalt and onto the white, he hears a voice call out his name. "Jim!" The voice says loudly. He looks up the street and sees Harvey Bullock running toward him, panting as he moves. Gordon continues casually walking as Harvey moves frantically to greet him.

"Captain," Harvey says with a heavy breath, stopping abrubtly in front of him. "It's ten ten. I got the press, Gotham's legislation, and the mayor all waitin'." Jim smiles to Harvey, keeping his composure in the wake of Harvey's hasty demeanor.

"Good," Jim says simply. "Then we're waiting on me." Harvey gives Gordon a strange look, taken off guard by his calmness.

"With all do respect, Captain, you're awfully non chalant for being late to your own press conference. I got the whole frickin' town in here waiting for an important message by you."

"Yes, Harvey, and I appreciate it." Jim says as he walks to the front of the building. Gently, he pushes open the door, and he steps inside. He holds the door for his friend for a second, and makes his way into the lobby. "Are the SWAT teams present?"

"Round back." Harvey says sternly. "Security in uniform and plain clothes. Guys with red gloves are ours." Jim grins and pats Harvey on his shoulder.

"Good work," Jim says in a pleased tone. "Now, wouldn't want to keep the people waiting." Jim takes off his hat and hands it to Harvey. He places it in the detectives hands, and walks through the doorway into the conference room. As Jim enters he sees the room split into two. Reporters and members of the press all flock in two main groups, divided only by a strip of empty floor. Leaning up against the walls are the members of Gotham's congress, the elected officials, simply watching and waiting.

As Jim begins to walk down the empty line to the podium at the front of the room, the building errupts in disarray. Reporters shout out questions to Gordon as he passes, their voices drowning eachother out, allowing no lone voice to be heard. Jim ignores them and continues his path to the stage.

At the end of the line he meets the raised platform. He steps up onto it, and walks on it toward the man standing by the back in a chair. The main is dressed sharply, his clothes made from only the finest places. He stands elegantly, and nods to Gordon with a look of stature. Jim nods back to the man and stops in front of him. "Morning, Mayor Cobblepot." Gordon says in a respectful tone, a smile absent from his face. "Are we ready to get this started?"

"I was ready to begin when I was phoned at two AM last night, Captain." The mayor says in a snobbish tone. "I hope this is as important as your detectives claim it to be." Jim grins forcefully, keeping his calmness and fighting back the urge to come back with a smark remark.

"Oh, I think you'll find it worth your while." Jim says with a sharp tone. He turns away from the mayor, and steps up to the podium. Jim grabs the microphone protruding from the top of the wooden block, and moves it toward his mouth. As he takes a deep breath, the room suddenly becomes quiet, and all eyes look to him.

"Good morning everyone," he starts, giving a pleasent smile. "I'm sure most of you are curious as to why an abrupt meeting has been called. Before anyone interrupts or cuts in, I would like to take this moment to say that the kidnapping of Commissioner Loeb is not the reason for this meeting and it will also not be a topic up for discussion today. The issue is being handled. That's all I'll say on the matter." Jim moves back a step and takes a brief moment to think. He takes a few breaths to get his bearings, calming himself and keeping his mind clear. He leans back toward the microphone, and continues.

"Now, recently, my unit has uncovered a possible threat. A threat that has gone unnoticed until now. Strange occurances and abnormal phenomenon are no stranger to Gotham. In our past year we've seen some of the most remarkable, sickening, and bizare things imaginable. This new threat is no different." Jim pauses for only a moment, breathing slowly and swallowing the lump of spit in his mouth.

"As of late, my unit has been noticing strange actions in some of Gotham's civilians. We've investigated cases in which people have been acting out of character, doing things that are unexplained by their friends, family, and even themselves. People have been flocking to hospitals and psychiatrists seeking help; claiming they have gone insane or are having a mental breakdown. A few weeks ago, we believed these occurances to be nothing more than a coincidence, a strange fluctuation in the behavior of Gotham's citizens." He moves his arms forward, grabbing the sides of the podium with his hands and holding tightly.

"The evidence we have compiled has lead us to only one conclusion. There is one thing behind these oddities. We believe it to be a telepathic disturbance, a disruption in the normal thought and mind patterns of the human brain." The room begins to fill with silent whispers of confusion, people asking their neighbor what Gordon means or what he is speaking of.

"This threat has a name, ladies and gentlemen. Currently, we are calling this the "Despero" investigation. We have compiled enough evidence and proof to lead us to one resolve, and at this very moment, we have prepared our SWAT teams to take out this threat."

As Gordon continues speaking, Harvey Bullock stares in confusion at the back of the room. He turns to his side and taps detective Renee Montoya next to him. "The SWAT teams are in back waiting orders. They aren't mobilized. What's Gordon talking about?"

"I don't know." She says with a confused tone. "But...he always knows what he's doing. I'm sure he has a plan." Bullock grunts and turns back, facing Gordon as he continues the speech. Harvey frowns and sticks his hands into his pockets, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Why do I got the feeling the Bat has something to do with this?"

 

[Batman]

Murmurs in the crowd of reporters almost immediately followed Captain Gordon's strange announcement. While some were perplexed as to why such a conference had to be called in the first place, others were angered that their time had been wasted by such nonsense. A strange phenomena? A global threat? It was as if someone had taken the plot of a science fiction novel and placed it on the lap of Gordon's internal affairs division. This wasn't the buisness of a city's police department. Rather, it was something someone expected out of a crackpot government agency.

Mayor Cobblepot turned red, both in fury and general embarrassment, as he forced a smile while simultaneously pulling the microphone of the podium away from Gordon. Even with his small, glaringly obvious cuts and bruises from his trauamatic confrontation with Two-Face the previous night, he had managed to keep a cool demeanor with the press. But whatever Gordon was pulling now had all but shook him from it, as he tried to compose himself in a dignified manner.

"Captain James Gordon, Ladies and Gentlemen! Isn't he... isn't he a cut up?", Oswald weakly laughed. "But in all seriousness, surely, you must applaud his efforts to... ah... lighten the mood amongst the city's citizens! After all, following such a terrible tragedy as the recent attack, we all need a reason to smile, don't we?"

Oswald looked over, bitterly, towards Gordon as the Captain simply shrugged the expression off. Just ahe reporters looked at eachother in more confusion, Oswald hastefully took Gordon's place at the podium, forcing Gordon to stand in the background.

"Now, Gordon's little joke aside, we should get to the real heart of this morning's press conference. While we're all still reeling from the attack, it's the safe return of our beloved Commissioner Loeb that is currently the focus of the police department's efforts. The actions of the madman calling himself 'The Joker' can simply not be condoned by our city's citizens. We must stand against them, and show these freaks that Gotham isn't their playground any longer."

Oswald held his head high in pride, diligently emphasizing every word as the cameras rolled.

"That is why, as your Mayor, I am here to tell you that there is absolutely no need for concern. No matter the circumstance or the crippling of our forces, I want to personally assure each and every one of you that last night's chaos will never happen again."

The reporters slowly nodded, indifferent, but relieved that the conference was finally taking a more sensible direction. Slowly, one-by-one, they began clapping and cheering at Cobblepot's words. The Mayor smiled to himself, knowing he had them.

But then, there was only one.

All eyes slowly waned and focused on the middle of the crowd, as a loud, concentrated mash of leather gloves upon themselves erupted from the field of reporters. A previously unseen man, his features obscured with a dark trenchcoat and matching hat, slowly walked forward towards the podium, his claps growing louder each time. Cobblepot nervously stared, as the stranger looked to him, his face covered in shadow by the brim of his hat.

"Very good. Very good.", He applauded, before reaching up and removing his hat. "Tell me, will you be accepting questions from the audience now?"

Every jaw in the room dropped, as the masked face of The Joker slowly beamed with murderous intent, turning to the room as he dropped his coat and revealed the familiar purple and dark green attire. And just as they turned to leave, every reporter realized that they were staring down the barrel of a gun, as several men in clown masks stormed the area, despite the high level of security surrounding the establishment. Even Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya, who had been set in front, found themselves overtaken by the criminals.

The Joker turned back to the stage, rubbing his hands together, as Cobblepot looked back at him in complete shock and horror. The madman simply smiled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt?"

 

[Catman_prb]

Tommy blinked his eyes as he woke up, his phone trilling next to his ear. Sarah rolled over in bed, taking the covers with her.

"Tommy, answer the phone," she whined, burrying herself under the sheets. He sighed, pushing himself up on his forearms, and grabbing the phone next to his bed.

"Elliot residence," he yawned.

"Yo, Tom, how're you?" Harvey Bullock asked, slightly too jovially for his liking. Tommy had met him a few months back, when he helped him solve a particularly brutal triple homicide. They'd been good friends ever since, but sometimes he had the feeling that he was only around to run errands for the bigger man.

"Harvey, it's six in the goddamn morning, what do you want?" he asked.

"Gordon's having a press conference today with the Mayor," Harvey explained.

"And?" Tommy asked, getting slightly irritated.

"And I'd like you to come along as some extra muscle," he said. Tommy frowned.

"I'm not muscle Harv, I'm forensics," he explained.

"You got a gun and a license right?"

"Yeah but-"

"Then today you're muscle," Harvey said with a tone of finallity.

"Fine! Okay, fine," Tommy said.

"Great, cheers. Ten down at city hall," Harvey said.

"Ten? Jesus christ Harv, call me back two hours later," Tommy said, halfway between laughing and shouting.

"Don't be late,"

***​

Tommy was sitting third row from the front, a couple of places behind Harvey and Montoya. He barely listened to Gordon's speech, his eyes were darting around the room, his hand in his lap, but ready to jump to the pistol hidden under his jacket if need be. He heard something about telepathic disturbance, SWAT teams and Despero, but that was about the extent of it. He hardly even registered as Mayor Cobblepot took the floor, such was his nerves. And yet, even under his constant surveillance of the room, he didn't notice the men in clown masks until they were right on top of him. He looked up and found himself facing the barrel of a gun.

And then he heard the voice. The voice that he had heard laughing as it blasted apart the police station the previous night.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt?"

Tommy closed his eyes.

"****," he whispered.​

 

[Blacklight]

The Rebirth of Cool pt.III...

​

"Nice shiner, V. I take it you and Francis had a heart to heart?"

"Shut up, Richie." I grumbled, rubbing my head in the nurses office as she gave me a pass to go back to class.

"Man I'm sick of this, Richie. Day after day I get beat up, robbed and no one gives a damn!" I started as we walked down the hall. Francis Stone has bullied me as long as I could remember, but ever since he became a gangbanger, it's gotten worse. He doesn't even care that I'm friends with his cousin Rick Stone. I'm just sick of being the punching bag around here...

"I'm just tired of being pushed around..."

"I hear that, yo..."

The two of us turned to see Larry Wade, one of the coolest dudes in school, and a friend of mine, standing there before us, leaning against the lockers. He must've listened to my complaining.

"Listen, V. I see the way you gettin' treated 'round here, and I ain't likin' it one bit, so I'ma help you out, dawg."

"How, Wade?"

"I'm helpin' you get back at ol' 'Biz Money B' over there..."

"Really? How are you gonna do that?"

"Meet me at the junkyard after school. There's gonna be a big brawl between the gangs, dude. Stone's supposedly goin' to be there. You can get him then."

Could ths be? A chance to FINALLY get back at my enemy for all the years of grief and torment he's caused me? A chance to finally beat Francis Stone at his own game? I'd be STUPID to give this chance up.

"Alright. I'll meet you there."

"Coo'. Catch ya around, V."

I think there's a god. And I think he loves me...

 

[Blacklight]

-Ultimate-
.G R E E N . L A N T E R N.​

J'onn closed his eyes, his mind reaching outward across the planet. Concentrating as hard as possible, looking for the needle trapped in the haystack...there.
"Keystone City", J'onn stated as his eyes shot open.

Or what's left of it... Hal thought, remembering how bad a shape Coast City was left in after the Impurity had his way. He could only imagine what condition Keystone would be in...

"It's the Flash. And he's going to confront his double."

Great. Just what we need. More doubles...

Hal sighed as he sat in the air afloat near his compatriots. As powerful allies as they were, possibly moreso than himself, Hal knew they were all going to have a tough time facing an evil version of the fastest man alive.

"Well, I suggest we get to it. We don't have much time to waste..."

 

[Spike_x1]

"I couldn't agree more, Hal," said Superman with barely controlled anger in his voice. It pained him to think of what a villainous monster with the power of the Flash could do to a city, even in the blink of an eye, and part of Clark didn't even want to find out. But none of them really had a choice at the moment.

"Let's go." Taking one last look at the destruction around them, Clark closed his eyes gave a heavy sigh as he and his companions left the ground behind them and took to the skies, flying in the direction of Keystone City.

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...

IC:

After broadcasting his telepathic threat to the people of America. If the country goes into panic, it is greater than him having a full element of surprise when he returns with his generals.

Once the alternate versions of this Earth's hereos are defeated, and they join Despero, the submission of Earth's mightiest country will be at hand. And then, Despero will cast his soverignty across the globe, attack the next strongest power to oppose him. One by one, each civilization will fall until they feel the firm grip of Despero's might.

Tomorrow is when it all starts.

Tomorrow is when he promised the people of the United States government the biggest change in their lives. It shall take place tomorrow night. The hereos of this Earth have been on the distant planet for days now. By tomorrow night, they should have encountered their alternate selves and have been defeated. Everything shall go according to plan.

Despero does not sleep; he doesn't need to. He can go days without sleep. And so, he merely floats in space, watching the blue and green planet that is soon to be his. He closes his eyes, and his grin has never been so wide. Picturing the humans panicking as they will try to fight off the inevitable is amusing.

The next morning

"--"Despero" investigation. We have compiled enough evidence and proof to lead us to one resolve, and at this very moment, we have prepared our SWAT teams to take out--"

Immediately Despero's eyes open at the mention of his name. Picked up by his telepathy, he quickly traces the location of the person who spoke. Teleporting closer within the Earth's atmosphere, he stops as he continues to track. He turns his head to the west, and teleports over the Atlantic Ocean. Keeping his head towards west, he deduces the voice had come from within the United States in Gotham City.

"SWAT teams? Well, one would not like to disappoint...although they shall be the ones disappointed when they find out that they cannot hide even their motives from Despero."

In the flash of an instant, Despero disappears and reappears in the skies of Gotham City. He looks down upon the dark, gloomy, city, and raises his eyebrow.

"What filth."

He starts to fly, keeping his mind on the precise location of the voice which mentioned his name.

 

[Batman]

The entire room froze. Reporters from the Globe, Gotham Today, and Blüdhaven Chronicle who had previously interviewed some of the most vicious killers in the country on many occasions with little regard were suddenly rendered petrified. Cops who had served on the Gotham Police Force for over half their lives couldn't muster the will to fight back - something they were trained to do. Even Captain Gordon, who had brought in the bastard just a month earlier when he had been practically wrestled into custody, went wide-eyed in shock at the reveal.

Naturally, The Joker was loving every minute of it.

Sardonically, the maniac tilted his head upwards, as he slowly approached the stage. "No 'hello', Captain? I'm insulted. I mean, we barely got the chance to catch up the other night. What, with all the distractions..."

In the first hint of malice towards the criminal, Gordon seamlessly snatched his pistol from it's holster and brought it to eye level with his enemy's piercing stare. Even as several of the clown henchmen raised their guns to the stage, in protest, the fearless cop didn't even attempt to move it away from The Clown Prince. The Joker seemed to admire this, as he waved his men to lower their weapons to him. Not that he was going to spare the cop's life at any given moment.

"Ah, the bravery of Gotham's finest. Such awe-inspiring dribble drabble.", He began, before looking towards the crowd of cops being held against their will at gunpoint. "You see, ladies and gentlemen of the press, this is Gotham's real police force. Sniveling cowards not man enough to hold a badge on their chests! If this is who you're looking to for protection, well... what better example to go by of such bravery?"

Mayor Cobblepot looked over to Gordon, his brow sheeted in perspiration, giving him a silent look of horror. Gordon nodded, slowly, before taking the microphone once again. "What do you want with us, you maniac?"

The Joker cackled, gracefully leaping onto the stage the moment Gordon's sentence stopped. His purple trenchcoat billowing with murderous fury, a handheld switchblade slipped from his sleeve. Gordon was prepared to reach for his weapon once more, but The Joker had moved too fast. Instantly, the madman was on him, carving a lined wound into Gordon's forearm. The cop writhed back in pain, holding his bleeding wound, as The Joker kicked him hard, sending him flying behind the curtain of the stage.

"That's for the 'hello'.", The Joker mocked, before turning to the crowd. "Now, in fair sport, I guess I should answer the Captain's question. 'What do I want'? Oh, it's rather simple, really."

Clearing his throat, The Joker leaned over the podium.

"I want to know if you people are as crazy as I am!"

The crowd looked at eachother, in confusion, as his rant began.

"I mean, come on! I kidnapped the Commissioner. I. Kidnapped. A city official. She is no where to be found. She could be dead, she could be alive, who knows! No one. No one except me. You should all be on your knees, meaninglessly pleading for her safe return in the slight hope that I might turn the coop and show an ounce of the humanity I don't have!"

Pointing out at the crowd, accusingly, The Joker's arm went rigid in passionate hatred.

"But, no! No! You had to defy all logic and common sense! Not only are you flat-out ignoring the fact that an innocent life is in danger, but your replacement topic is... space people who can read minds! Are you all twelve!?", He continues, scanning each and every face in the room with ridicule. "I should've just skipped the speech and blown you all to kingdom come for such absurdity! But, I just had something to say to you in the flesh..."

And suddenly, The Joker's serious tone was gone, as was his demeanor, as his hands jolted up, happily giving a double 'thumbs-up' motion.

"Bravo. Bravo! Great job!"

The crowd seemed to stare, blankly, as The Joker chuckled. "Don't you see? This is what I've been wanting out of you the whole time. The world, when it makes sense, is about as interesting as dried paint. On the contrary, I've always thought a world that didn't make sense was a world worth living for. And you, Gotham City, have finally given it to me! I commit a heinous act of cruelty towards the city, and you don't give a flying flip about it! You've all become as caring about human life as I have. I'm almost proud."

Worriedly, the look on the crowd's face turned to whispered murmurs, as they began to realize that nothing at this point was going to be predictable. The Joker had taken a serious hostage situation and completely flipped it on it's head, making anyone wonder if they had any chance of making it out alive.

The Joker bowed to them, literally, before taking the microphone and moving towards an uneasy Oswald Cobblepot.

"Tell me, how does it feel to be the figurehead of such a souless, rotten, no-good town? Swells your ego, I'd wager!"

Clearing his throat, Cobblepot sternly looked towards the clown, trying to put on a brave front. But the difference between Cobblepot, and Gordon before him, was just that: Only one of them had to put up a front.

"Y-You... You won't win! Do you hear me? We'll find Commissioner Loeb, and bring her back! You'll regret-"

With a sharp backhand across the face, The Joker wildly sent Cobblepot flying off the stage, landing into the arms of his nearby aides. The clown quickly turned back to the audience, as if a television host trying to avoid an embarrassing incident.

"Oh, for godsakes. Everyone's gotta be a hero today. Who do you people think you are? Batman?"

The Joker's finger raised, in a pause. "Speaking of which! I sincerely hope Capeboy is one of the people at home, watching this little fiasco. Because unless he's waxing that ridiculous car of his, he's really going to regret missing this. You seeing what I'm seeing, Batman? These are the idiots you protect. For whatever reason, you constantly risk your neck against mental patients in wetsuits to ensure that their lives are filled with the same daily routine, just as boring as ever. You struggle to give them the so-called gift of sanity. And guess what?"

The Joker leans in, towards the television camera still pointed at the stage, as his disturbingly blank masked image rolls on every station in the city.

"It isn't working! HAHAHAHAHA!"

After a moment of nonstop, sickeningly joyful laughter, The Joker wipes the tears streaming down the eyeholes of his mask, between snickers, and looks back down at the audience.

"So, my friends, I just came down to thank you, and wish you all the best. It's insanity like this that keeps me going, and tells me that my holy cause is fully alive and well. I thought you were all going soft. Looks like the joke was on me, this time!"

With another appreciative bow, The Joker leaps from the stage, causing several audience members to step back, as the armed clowns run up to join him from behind.

"Oh, and if since none of you are still wondering, Commissioner Loeb is alive. But hey, everything changes once in awhile, doesn't it?"

Gordon stumbles out, from behind the curtain, as The Joker turns and points to him.

"Oh! There you are. Right, give me a message, will you? Tell your little friend that I'll be seeing him at midnight."

Gordon grits his teeth in anger, still holding his wound, as all of the clowns quickly depart. Immediately running to the podium, he grabs the microphone, still out of breath from the strong kick that The Joker had given him.

"Go, dammit! Go! Follow him! Get to him before he escapes!", He calls to his men, in anger. "He is not leaving the premises, do you hear me?! He is not leaving the premises!"

Quickly composing themselves after the life-threatening ordeal, all of the cops in the room scurry out of the same entrance. Throwing his arms into the air, Gordon walks back, and slumps into a nearby chair, cursing under his breath for ever letting the situation get out of hand so easily. Immediately adding to his troubles, Mayor Cobblepot soon strolls up to him, absolutely furious.

"If you weren't the only cop with any balls in this city, I'd feed you your badge for this!", Cobblepot practically squawks. "How in God's name did he and his band of freaks get into the building?!"

Gordon sighs, frustrated. "I don't know."

Cobblepot gives him a look of offense. "You don't know?!"

"I don't know, goddammit!", Gordon shouts, pushing aside any care for courtesy. "By all accounts, he shouldn't have gotten in here! I have SWAT in the back, at the ready. He must've disposed of them, somehow... I just... I don't know!"

Placing his hands on his hips, Cobblepot stares coldly into Gordon's eyes.

"Well, you better find out, Gordon. Because until we find Jill, you're the one responsible for your department. And I won't hesitate to bring all of you down if something like this ever happens again! Do you understand?!"

Gordon looks at him, wordlessly angry.

"Gordon!"

"Yes. Yes, I understand."

Furied, Cobblepot strolls off, as one of Gordon's SWAT officers finally enters the room, running up to the stage to greet Gordon. Gordon eyes him, disbelieving, standing up as he approaches. "What in the hell happened out there?"

"Sorry, sir. But we couldn't interfere. There was a crisis."

"The only 'crisis' was the fact that every member of the press and every officer of this force was just held under gunpoint by a man who wears a bowtie.", Gordon sarcastically dismisses. "Where the hell were all of you?"

"Nolan and 5th, Sir.", The officer responds. "We got an anonymous call about a bomb in the area. Tactical squad reported a hostage crisis in the same spot."

Gordon eyed the officer, curious. "Were there any explosives found?"

"Yes, sir. Enough to take out a city block. They're being disarmed as we speak."

For a moment, The Captain simply nodded, understandingly. There was no way his squad could have alerted him at the time of the conference, and they had to act fast. It was good work, despite the fact that The Joker had managed to come in and leave as he pleased because of it. But dawning on that realization, Gordon's face immediately went pale with shock.

"Jesus Christ..."

"Sir?"

Gordon looked to the officer. "It was him. He was trying to lead you away from the area. He had the bombs. He..."

Gordon paused.

"My God, he has bombs?!"

In that moment, Gordon's cellphone rang. Trying to shake from his startling realization, he picked it up, and flipped it open, figuring it was his wife or daughter calling after seeing the incident. Instead, to his surprise, a thick, spine-tingling cackle answered him. The Joker wasn't done.

"Hello, there! Is this is the Gotham Pizzeria? Yes, we'd like an extra-meaty delivered to Fourth Street as soon as possible. You see, it's about to explode, and I want to send everyone a last meal..."

Gordon froze, hearing this unsubtle threat, as it played out in his mind. "Y... You son of a..."

"Round one, Gordon.

From the other side of the line, The Joker widely smiled.

"Round one."

 

[Green Lantern]

"But first. I need to get out of that monster's clothes. Do you still have any of 'your' Barry's clothes? And is there a costume shop around here?"

"I just have a pair of jeans that I sometimes wear when I'm lonely... And there's one on Gardner, about 20 blocks from here, why?"

"I have something in mind."

He took the jeans she offered, and put them on, faster than she could watch, leaving the dark costume in a heap on the floor.

"Turn on the TV. I have a feeling that your normally scheduled programming is about to become preempted."

With that, Barry was gone. The owner of the nearby costume shop felt a gust of wind and saw a blur of red as a note and a $50 bill floated to the counter.

Thanks for the costume. Don't have time to chat. Price tag said $30, here's a $50 for your troubles. Its for a good cause. -The Flash

Sitting next to the note was a tag for a costume that wasn't all that popular. The shopkeep went back to his superhero section, and sure enough, the costume he had of the Flash was missing. Green Lantern, Black Canary and the other members of the Justice Society still hung on the rack, but the costume of Jay Garrick was conspicuously missing.

Moments later, Lampert Stadium.

Fans watched in awe as between plays of the game, a man appeared at midfield. The refs tried to get him off the field, but he wouldn't move. The man was dressed unusually. Red boots with golden wings adorned his feet, blue tights covered his legs, topped with a red shirt. Emblazoned on the shirt was a golden lightning bolt. The man appeared as though he belonged on a Saturday morning cartoon, not a Saturday afternoon football game. His blue eyes burned with a fury so intense those that got close to him knew to back away. His face bore a serious and somber tone shadowed by the helmet on his head, hiding his features, this was a man who had business here today. The stranger beckoned to one of the sideline reporters. Looking down, so as to keep his identity hidden, and moving just slightly enough and fast enough to mask it even more, the man spoke into the microphone. His voice boomed, serious and angry.

"Walt West. The Rogue. Monster. Man Child. Whatever you wish to refer to yourself as, the time is here. Your reign of terror is over, and I'm the man who is going to end you."

As Barry had hoped, Walt was in the crowd. Within seconds, the two men were facing each other.

[blackout]"And who are you? I've taken out worse than you, you comic book reject."[/blackout]

The stranger flung the helmet shading his face to the sideline, and stared down what seemed to be a shattered mirror image of himself.

"I'm your worst nightmare, Walt. I'm the ghost of that first innocent life you took. I'm here to make you pay for that crime and all the others you have committed since. I'm your retribution."

Indeed, Walt was stunned as he looked into the eyes of the man he had so long ago killed. He stuttered out a response, unconvincingly.

[blackout]"Al-- Allen? I... I killed you once. I can do it again."[/blackout]
As he spit out his venomous words, he launched a fist at his enemy's head.

Before even he could know what was going on, the hand was swatted aside and a loud crack echoed through the silent arena as the bones of the forearm snapped.

"No Walt. Fool me once, shame on me."

As those bones snapped a scream filled the arena. Walt's superbolic metabolism was already working to repair the damage, but Barry held the arm so it tried to fix it awkwardly. The man screamed again, and spit at Barry.

"Now now! Where are your manners?"

Barry delivered a superspeed kick to the man's ribcage, while letting go of his arm, sending the man flying across the field.

[BLACKOUT]"The kid gloves are off now, Allen! I will relish your pain![/BLACKOUT]

The Rogue growled at the man he so desperately hated, and then charged. A sonic boom echoed in the stadium as the villain flew at the hero, followed by two more shortly after. One was Barry's fist moving faster than the speed of sound to connect with Walt's face, the second was Walt traveling in the opposite direction. The force of the blow sprayed Walt's blood throughout the field, and the crowd that had gathered cheered loudly for this man who was fighting their oppressor.

Walt picked himself back up, his face dripping with lines of crimson. His nose and jaw were both severely broken, several of his own teeth lay spread throughout the ground between the two speedsters.

"You're right, Rogue. They are. I'm not as defenseless as I was last time, am I?"

A second later and Barry was back on the offensive. A flurry of blows hit his enemy in the chest before Walt could even get his hands up in defense. As his ribs shattered, he fell back to his knees.

"I'm also not a weak, mourning woman for you to rape, am I?"

The blows continued, a fiery rage evident in Barry's eyes. A hush fell over the crowd as they realized he wasn't going to stop this assault until his enemy was no more. Barry noticed the sudden stop of the cheers, which made him look at the broken body beneath him. The mask had come off of his opponent, revealing a face that looked so much like hamburger, the red hair looking more of a dark brown, soaked with blood and mud. The man's eyes were swollen shut, his breathing was coming slowly and in gasps. Barry let go of the man, letting him drop to the muddy grass.

"No. I'm not you. I'm not a killer."

He lifted the man one more time from the dirt and stared into the barely open eyes.

"But I for DAMN sure will make it so you can never hurt anyone again."

His hand slapped the villain's back, right between the shoulder blades, at super speed. There was a sickening crack as two vertebrae shattered.

"Have fun with the chair."

Barry dropped him again and looked up at the crowd. He saw himself on the Jumbotron and just smiled. He heard the stadium erupt in cheers and applause, and he graciously took a bow.

 

[Spike_x1]

Flying high over Keystone City, Superman, the Martian Manhunter, and the Green Lantern named Hal Jordan were trying to zero in on the Flash's location. Combined with the Martian's psychic abilities to point them in the general direction, with Clark's telescopic vision to scope out the path before them, the trio quickly found themselves approaching the skies over the Keystone Stadium.

"I can sense the Flash and his counterpart from this world. Without having met either of them before, it's difficult to ascertain which one is which." Coming over the stadium, the three heroes looked down at the speedsters far below them. "I merely hope that our Flash is not the one who was just crippled."

Scanning the sight below and looking at the huge video screen looming over the stadium, Superman recognized the victor as the hero that they had been looking for, and smiled. "Don't worry J'onn. He's not."

 

[Blacklight]

Flying high over Keystone City, Superman, the Martian Manhunter, and the Green Lantern named Hal Jordan were trying to zero in on the Flash's location. Combined with the Martian's psychic abilities to point them in the general direction, with Clark's telescopic vision to scope out the path before them, the trio quickly found themselves approaching the skies over the Keystone Stadium.
"I can sense the Flash and his counterpart from this world. Without having met either of them before, it's difficult to ascertain which one is which." Coming over the stadium, the three heroes looked down at the speedsters far below them. "I merely hope that our Flash is not the one who was just crippled."

Scanning the sight below and looking at the huge video screen looming over the stadium, Superman recognized the victor as the hero that they had been looking for, and smiled. "Don't worry J'onn. He's not."

Talk about good timing. Seems he already beat his double. Pretty quick, too. But I'd expect nothing less from the fastest man alive...

The trio had all descended from their flight and landed in the center of the stadium behind the Scarlet Speedster while he bathed in his applause, but J'onnz cleared his throat to get the fellow trapped hero's attention.

"Ahem... Bartholomew Henry Allen, I presume?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Orin wastes no time, immediately tackling the sea leviathan at its middle abdomen. To the surprise of the people watching as they flee, Orin's attack actually knocks back the creature fairly well. Never have they seen such an Atlantean with such ferocity and strength. To battle a beast, Orin fights like one; he is as relentless as the tides as he swims around the beast, striking with sharp blows.

As Orin swims back around to attack once more, one of the gargantuan claws of the sea leviathan's grabs hold of him, and attempts to throw Orin into its mouth. Landing on its tongue, Orin quickly gains his footing, shooting his arms upward to stop the snapping motion the beast tries to make as it attempts to swallow Orin whole. His strength slowly being overwhelmed by the strength of the creature's jaw, he sacrifices some of it by removing one of his arms from holding the root of the mouth up, and grabs hold of one of the leviathan's sharp teeth.

"SSCCRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

The beast wails and cries as Orin starts to pull and tug with all his might at its tooth. Blood spewing, he rips it clean off, and the monster's mouth opens wide as it titls its head back, screaming. To prevent himself from slipping into the throat of the beast as it rocks back, Orin digs the freed tooth into the tounge of the creature, causing it even more excruciating pain. With his other hand free, he rips out one of the teeth from the jaw of the beast, and uses the two pairs of teeth to climb up the long tongue of the beast. Digging in the sharp teeth, only to pull them out and advance further out of its mouth, the pain Orin causes to the leviathian is undescrible.

With one desperate attempt of relieving itself from the pain of Orin's escape, the creature spits him out, and Orin goes flying through the water, smashing into one of the buildings. As he recovers, he stops himself in his tracks to continue his onslaught on the creature when he notices it desire to flee from the scene.

Nuidis Vulko, among the other Council Members such as Daus, float amongst the rest of the Poseidians as the Sea Leviathan escapes. Its cries of pain echo and boom throughout the city, audible within all buildings, as it exits.

Off in the distance, Orin can see something peculiar. It looks as though there is some sort of sea maiden or sea nymph; he cannot be sure. All he
does know is that she is glowing with beauty. The beast swims towards it, as if it is being called back to the unknown creature. The sight of the mysterious woman is not captured by Orin's eyes alone however.

"...Cora?"

The words cautiously escape from Vulko's lips. He looks around, thanking the Gods that no other around him heard his words. All he does, is look up at Orin, who looks off in the distance.

 

[Green Lantern]

Talk about good timing. Seems he already beat his double. Pretty quick, too. But I'd expect nothing less from the fastest man alive...

The trio had all descended from their flight and landed in the center of the stadium behind the Scarlet Speedster while he bathed in his applause, but J'onnz cleared his throat to get the fellow trapped hero's attention.

"Ahem... Bartholomew Henry Allen, I presume?"

Still riding the adrenaline from his fight, Barry put up his fists in self defense.

"Who's asking?"

 

[Batman]

By the time I saw it in the skies overlooking the city, all the necessary preparations had been put into place. Despite the morning's chaos surrounding The Joker's unexpected appearance in public, I had entrusted Captain Gordon to handle the situation as best as he could, while I attended to the situation with Despero. This trust only came into question once this when I realized something curiously irregular: someone else had activated the Batsignal tonight.

"Come on, come on..."

"Turn it off."

He turns, startled by prescence, but equally relieved. Detective John Grayson. It's the first time I've seen him without Gordon's council as the bridge between us. Even as he complies with my request, I can tell by his body language that he's stressed. More than stressed. Someone's put a considerable amount of fear into the man. But his fear is only overcome by the passion in his eyes, as he looks back at me.

"I wasn't sure you'd show."

I peer at him through the starlite lenses of my cowl. "Neither was I. Where's Gordon?"

"Jim's busy. He's prepping the SWAT team for something downtown.", He explains. "But this isn't about Jim. This is about you and me."

"There is no 'you and me', Grayson. There's me and Gordon, and there's you."

He looks away, agitated. "Would you just hear me out? Please. I came to you for help, because... you may be the only one that can."

I was about to turn away, until I heard the tone of his voice. In all actuality, I don't have time for this. Despero could be anywhere at the moment, and if I don't set up the devices soon, I'll have lost my chance to lure him to me. But the way Grayson speaks assures me that he's not here to waste my time. Something's seriously wrong in his world.

After a moment of pause, I hesitantly step from the shadows. "I'm listening."

"Zucco. Tony Zucco,", He begins. "Last week, he made a play for the drug trade. I recieved a tip about it, followed it. Lead me right to him."

It doesn't take much for my own tone of voice to shift from curious to anger. "I thought I told you I'd handle it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it was you and Gordon, then me."

We exchange a tense glance. Obviously, we've struck eachother's nerves. But eventually, he signs, and turns around.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know that was uncalled for, but I'm a little on edge."

"More than a little.", I correct, just as I begin noticing the way he's walking. "Where did the sudden limp come from?"

He looks back, uneasy. "Well, that's... what I was getting at. Whenever I went to ambush Zucco, that night, I made a mistake. I made several mistakes, actually, and all of them nearly cost me my life."

I remain silent for a moment.

"And that's why you called me here? To admit a mistake?"

"No. Lord, no...", He dismisses. "If that was it, I could've called Jim. But if he knew what I'd done, it'd mean my badge. My friendship. My loyalties. Everything. If I didn't die that night, my career would've."

"Then what is it?"

He almost can't speak. "When I was down there, Zucco... he knew that I was there. He had his men rough me up and shoot me to send a message. But that wasn't all he told me. He said that..."

And just like that, he bottles it up again.

"Damn it. Damn it all. It wasn't supposed to be like this..."

"What is it you're not telling me?", I ask, annoyed. "Get to the point."

"HE THREATENED MY SON!"

I raise an eyebrow, letting the cowl masking enough of my confusion. His... son? Zucco's threatened a child?

Grayson's angered, passionate rant continues. "My little boy. That scum had the nerve to even speak his name! I don't know how he found out about him, but he's promised that the next move we make against his operations mean Dick's life."

Even beyond the obvious, I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to be Grayson, right now. I've never had a son, much less someone to be as responsible for as the rest of Gotham City. But his rage... his anger is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's as if his entire world has been put on the line.

"You don't understand what this means. The boy's mother... my wife, passed away recently. I've been taking care of Dick ever since. He's my life. And the minute Zucco said that, well... the last thing on my mind was a bullet in my chest."

He turns back to me, a man defeated by his obligations.

"Please. I'm asking you to help me protect my son."

I look away, but not nessecarily in rejection. Because unfortunately, a child and his father is a bond that I can understand. All too well. "And how do you want me to do that?"

"How else?", He asks in a rhetorical manner. "We can't just jail him. He has men on the outside. If he breathes a word to them, Dick doesn't have a chance. God help me, I'd give my life for him in a second, but it's not enough. I can't get past Zucco's army by myself."

"Then you want me to provide you with a way in."

His eyes narrow. "No. It's too late for that. I've already seen what they're capable of. I don't think even you'd be able to manage the task."

I sneer. "You'd be surprised."

"Don't you get it? This isn't about getting to Zucco. This isn't about the law. This is about him getting what's coming to him."

Even with all the perils and dangers I've faced, I find myself unable to control the unsettling feeling that lies within me, when Grayson's tone shifts like that. He wasn't speaking like a cop, or a concerned father. He was speaking like something worse.

He was speaking like me.

"I want you to help me kill Tony Zucco."

"Master Bruce?"

I climb out of The Batmobile, silently, just after making my way back to the warehouse. Alfred's been working hard on what I couldn't, but the moment he saw the look on my face, everything ceased. I don't even try to hide it, it's too obvious to ignore. For that reason alone, I leave the cowl on, as I make my way to the equipment.

"Is everything ready?"

"Sir? Sir, what's-"

I turn around, deeply angered. "Is everything ready?"

He doesn't want to seem affected by it, but I can tell... in that moment, for the very first time in our lives, Alfred was afraid of me.

"Yes. Yes, everything has been tailored to your specifications."

I stand stilled, in the darkness, a wreak of swallowed emotions. LCD monitors with a high frequency sound ratio surround me, prepared for an almost impossible task that still awaits me in the coming hours. And for the first time, I don't know if I can do it. I just don't know if I can face something like this, after what just happened.

"Good."

I remove my cape, and throw it to him, beginning to remove the gloves and belt aswell. As simplicist as my current uniform is, it'll hardly be able to stand up to the task of a being like Despero. That's why I've constructed something new. Something... better, though I can't imagine I'll ever find use for it again.

"Prepare the loop of this morning's press conference. Tune it to the correct settings.", I begin. "Then leave, as fast as you possibly can."

He doesn't question my instructions, this time, and simply nods, taking the bits of my costume that I strip off and replace with the new one. But all the while, the lingering question remains on his lips. I can feel it.

"And you're absolutely sure you're in any condition to fight? Something's obviously troubled you."

I look back at him for one moment, before continuing to suit up. Because Despero can probe the minds of others, I have to be careful to cleanse mine of any compromising thoughts. But it's all too much.

"No. I'm not sure.", I explain. "Infact, I... I may have just made one of the hardest choices of my life."

Alfred moves towards me, but I turn away. I'd love nothing more than to seek council at a time like this, but I can't. I just can't. There's work to be done.

"Please, Alfred. Just... do what I asked, and leave. For your own sake."

It doesn't take long, but soon, I don't hear him any longer. All I hear is Gordon's voice, playing on the recorded loop. With a final moment of regret, I push it all aside. Everything in my mind goes blank, as I instinctively move from monitor to monitor, activating them all at once. Soon, the entire array of screens have combined to one, as the audio plays back, and forth, in a clear pattern. Finally, I place the helmet of the armor I've adorned over my head, and lock it into place.

"D-D-Despero."

"DesperoDesperoDespero."

"D-D-Despero."

"DesperoDesperoDespero."

That's right. Take the bait...

 

[Blacklight]

Still riding the adrenaline from his fight, Barry put up his fists in self defense.

"Who's asking?"

Uh-oh. This could get ugly...

Stepping between the Flash and J'onzz, Hal raised his hands up to the hostile speedster.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there, Speedy... We're on your side here."

 

[Blacklight]

The Rebirth of Cool pt.IV...


Later that night, I immediately started heading for the docks to meet up with Wade and his crew. I was more than a little excited to finally get back at Francis Stone for bullying me all these years, and Wade had me a little curious as to what exactly what we were gonna do. I'm hoping something good...

"Yo, V. Glad you could make it, homes..."

"Yeah me too. So what's the plan? Are we gonna egg his house? Key his car? T.P. his backyard?"

Wade and his crew all looked at me for a second before they turned to each other and laughed at me hysterically...

"What? What's so funny?"

"You're a funny dude, Virgil. You had us goin' there for a second..."

"What? What did I say?"

"Oh snap, Wade! He ain't kiddin'!"

"Poor sap..."

"What?"

"V, this ain't no gang of no small-time vandals. We the big leagues, yo. When we do somethin', we make it big..."

"Big? Like how big?"

Wade then took my hand and put a cloth-wrapped item in it, and I didn't even have enough time to open it before Wade's crew started shouting...

"They here, man! Let's get this s*** crackin'!"

We all turned our sights to the approaching figures, and it was Stone and his crew. And by the angry look on Wade's face, looks like that brawl he was talking about might just happen...

"C'mon let's go!"

Then the crap hit the fan. Gangbangers were everywhere! They were all beatin' the snot out of each other, while I just sat back and watched. It was brutal. I've never seen a melee like this, and I didn't want any part of it.

I then remembered the thing Wade left in my hand, and while the brutality continued, I took the oppurtunity to unravel it...

"What the--?"

It was a gun. The very thing that took my mom's life all those years ago, and I vowed never to use. Just looking at it made me freak out, and I tossed it into the water nearby. I hate guns. What did Wade want me to do with a gun? Kill Francis? Well that ain't gonna happen. I may hate the guy, but I will never take a life. Ever. Especially not with a gun...

"Hawkins?"

I turned around and saw Stone smirking at me, and all the other gang members all preoccupied fighting.

"Well ain't this my lucky day? Now I get to beat you down ten times harder than I did earlier!"

The only logical thing I could think of to do was to run, and so I booked it, but Stone gave chase.

But then we saw the spotlights. There were Police Helicopters hovering over all of us. And before we knew it, they dropped cans of tear gas on us, and the nest thing I knew, all the gangbangers were all keeling over, but before I allowed myself to breathe in anymore of the gas, I put my shirt over my face and started running towards the city, hopping over the fence between the docks and the outskirts of Dakota, and I headed for my house. The last thing I remember seeing at the docks was all the gangs lying on the ground and a thick cloud of purple smoke in the air.

Then after a few minutes of running, I reached my house, and after I climbed up the stairs and entered my room, I passed out on my bed. I felt so starnge, and I'm starting to think whatever was in that gas has something to do with it...

 

[Andy C.]

​

For what feels like eons, my mind plummets into nightmare. Ensnared in my opposite's Lasso, I am assaulted by visions of horror and savagery. How long I've been in its grip, I cannot say. Time has slowed to a crawl, my senses overcome by an unending barrage of chaos and death.

I tell myself that none of it is real, that it's all the workings of the Nightmare Lasso. But the more I see, the less I believe it. With each passing second under the spell, the real world slips further and further away, and it is all but impossible to tell the nightmare from the truth...

...the Truth...

For a moment, I see it, a golden thread reaching through the maelstrom of blood and fire. Its light is absolute, constant amidst the swirling storm. It is unchanging, unbreakable....and my only tether to sanity.

My mind reaches out to the strand and grabs hold, while my corporeal body places a hand on the Lasso of Truth.

In that moment, the nightmares blur, hard reality forcing its way back into my senses. The ground beneath my feet, the crimson rope around my neck. Demonic forms and hideous shrieks surge and shrink as Nightmare and Truth clash against each other in my mind.

"You can't fight it," I hear Warrior Woman say mockingly. "Even with the Truth bleeding through, the Nightmares will break you spirit. The dream and the reality are sides of the same coin. Struggle if you may, you cannot overcome its power."

At the end of the blood-red cord that binds me, I see the nebulous visions solidify, the Lasso of Truth making my enemy's form clear for me.

"I...don't have to defeat your Lasso," I say, grabbing a hold of the weapon and looping it around my arm for leverage. "I just have to defeat you."

With that, my free hand whips my own Lasso towards Warior Woman's legs, snaring her around the ankles. She spams for a moment as the wrath of Zeus courses lightning throughout her body, then I pull hard to throw her off of her feet.

She loses her grip on the Nightmare Lasso, and I pull the wretched thing off of me for good. The horrific sights fade into nothing, and the real world flows in like the tide, sweeping the psychic refuse away. Just as quickly as the nightmares had come, they are gone.

Now the tables have turned. Warrior Woman is in the grip of Truth, and even more than the pain of Zeus' lightning, knowing and feeling the consequences of the things she has done leaves her quivering on the ground.

It's not easy to watch, but it must be done.

"No..." she manages to whimper, "...I did this?"


In the Patriarch's World, there is a saying: "the truth hurts." I think very few understand the true extent of what that really means.

Every death at her hands, every family she's destroyed. Every moment of every victim's desperation and fear. Every act of pointless and wanton destruction. Every horror she has committed in her own name. She feels all of it...and it's too much to bear.

"Enough," I say, letting the Lasso slacken and releasing her from her penance. "Now you see the true cost of your self-indulgent brutality. I'll spare you the pain of seeing your true self any longer."

Even free from the Lasso, Warrior Woman does not move. Her illusions of invincibility shattered, the fight in her is simply gone. I know I cannot simply let her go with the powers she wields, but to kill her now as I did Circe would contradict all that I opposed her for.

With that in mind, I kneel down towards her, gently removing the rune-covered charms of Cratos and Bia, breaking her unholy power--with so few people left on this world, the gods' own strength must be waning. What's left is no longer the feared Warrior Woman, but a woman unsure of her fate.

"What...what will become of me now?"

"That is not for me to decide," I say, gathering up her weapons and charms. "I hope you will seek redemption, attempt to heal the wounds you have inflicted. Perhaps then, the justice waiting for you will be less severe. But the suffering of this world must end, and what little power you have left should be put to good use towards it."

I leave Warrior Woman to her fate, flying up towards the outer reaches of the sky and hurling her instruments of pain beyond the Firmament and into the vast emptiness of space. The gods here cannot be trusted to relinquish their own power, so her weapons will only be safe when far out of their reach.

With that trial now behind me, I head back down towards the alien Earth below me. I still must find my fellow heroes on this forsaken world.

 

[Spike_x1]

Still riding the adrenaline from his fight, Barry put up his fists in self defense.

"Who's asking?"

As Hal tried to explain to the Flash that we were not enemies, Clark reached forward and put his hand on the Scarlet Speedster's shoulder. "Mr. Allen... Barry... no doubt you've noticed that this version of Earth isn't your home. We were all taken from a universe parallel to this. By Despero. We need to find a way back."