The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG, Season 3.0

[Snapper_Carr]

Amazo​

Al had never moved faster in his life. Nor had he ever shot laser beams from his eyes. Sure, he had been able to duplicate the actions of others his whole life...but this was different. He'd never considered the possibility that he was 'super-human.' He had always chalked it up to a type of photogenic memory...nothing like this.

After the attempted hit on his life, and his apparent 'eye-lasering' of the two FBI agents, he did the obvious and ran. What was unexpected was the speed at which he had moved. Everything around him seemed to be standing still. So he ran...and ran. Within moments he was passing signs welcoming him to Chicago. He was home, and there were scores to settle...first up was Joey D.

****

Al spent the early hours of the evening at his mistresses apartment. She was still in Miami and would be there until the following Monday. This Joey D. situation had been building for quite some time. Joey was their 'guy' for the unions; meaning that Joey D. held alot of influence over the 'family's' money...and it always comes back to money. So, Joey figured his position had out grown the 'boss.' It happens.

But it doesn't happen to Al Mazzo. After a few scotch and waters, Al formulated a plan. Housecleaning was in order; it was the only way. Joey was a smart guy, though, just like Al. You didn't just clip a guy like him without thinking it through. It would take finesse.

'This friggin guy wants me out, this I know,' he thought. 'By now he knows, at least, that something went wrong in Gotham. Too late to fix that. Hmmm. What'f I'm wounded and need his help? Naw...too weak. Howabout playing scared and on the run?....He'd never buy it. WAIT!! How about if I call and say I need a pick from barely escaping and he's the only one I trust!!'

Al pondered that last thought for a few minutes and then made the call.

*****

Joey D. was eating his dessert at Casa de Cascada when his cell rang. He knew the number; it was his boss. He excused himself from his guests and began walking away from the table before answering.

"A.M., howyadoin? Heard your flight got shifted to Gotham..." Joey D. answered.

"Good. In a bit of a pinch, though," Al replied. "Gonna need a pickup here in Gotham...Roosevelt Arms. Right away. Feebs are up my ass. DB tried to hit me today...dropped his guys and a couple feds. Gotta get out...and you're the only one I can fully trust at this point."

"Gothca Boss...I'll have a few of our boys pick you up in a few hours," Joey D. was saying, "you just hang tight and we'll get you out in one piece."

"I'll be at the Roosevelt Arms when they get here," Al said, "have em get me at the back of the joint to avoid the feds, got me?"

"Yeah, I gotcha Al" Joey replied with a smirk, "and we'll make sure to settle with DB, too."

"Don't worry on that one," Al replied, "everyone involved will get theirs...just one of them things." Al ended the call. He just had to be sure...and now he knew. Joey D had set him up. Joey D was living on borrowed time...but not for much longer. Not long at all.

****

Joey D. heard the line go dead. He had taken Al's call in the foyer of the restaurant, and though it was snowing outside, he wanted to make this next call away from any and all ears. So, he claimed his coat and stepped outside. He waved to his guards to stay in the Caddy, where they had been sitting with the engine running and the heater on to keep warm.

Little Petey got out of the car anyway; he knew Joey's plans and wasn't going to take any chances by leaving the future 'boss' unprotected. He wanted to make sure Joey D. saw that he was loyal, so he followed him into the adjoining alley while Joey made his phone call.

Joey D. nodded his approval as the two men walked in the cold to a door over-hang in the alley. "Our guys missed Al," he confided, "but the dumb son-of-a-***** thinks it's DB out've Gotham who tried the hit, so we've still got him."

"Always knew you had the vision, Joe," Petey said, "Al's just not right to head up the Outfit. That's why I'm wit' you."

"We hit him, then Voccio," Joey said, "then the capo's will fall in line behind me. Without Al and Voccio they'll have no choice. It's basic corporate takeover 101...it's how business is done. Now, it's freezing out here...you want to brown your nose on my ass some more, or can I make a call?"

"Sorry Joe," Petey replied meekly.

Joey D. pulled his cell and dialed. Then, "Hey...it's me. Roosevelt Arms. Backside. Two hours.," he said, "got it? Good. We'll square right after." He closed his cell.

****

Al had just hung up with Joey D. He knew by the sounds when he answered that he was at his usual haunt...Casa de Cascada. He knew Joey D. would be making a call. He wanted to hear it.

It had taken a few seconds to run into the city, but Al felt like he could run even faster. 'Amazing,' he thought.

Now he was standing down the street from the restaurant, waiting for Joey D. to come out. He watched as Joey exited the restaurant and waved to his guys. Watched Little Petey got out to follow. He wished he could hear their conversation...and surprisingly, he could. Al found that, not only could he hear the two men talking as they entered the alley, he could also hear Joey's phone conversation...including the voice on the other end.

He listened to the sound of Joey D. closing his cellular before making his move.

****

"That's it, Petey," Joey spoke, "by this time tomorrow night I'll be the new power here, and out west. Get Catalfamo on the line. I want that old Voccio done with by sunrise."

"Sure thing," Petey replied.

"Or....maybe not so sure.....," came the voice from the shadows.

"Who.....Al....?" Joey asked, suddenly feeling not so sure of himself.

"What's the matter Joe?," Al asked, "aren't you glad to see me?" Al stepped from the shadows and let the two men have a good look at him.

"Holy sh**!!!" Little Petey exclaimed as he drew his gun and fired.

Al stood there. Bullets were bouncing off him and he just smiled. Petey proceeded to empty his entire clip. Al still smiled. He respected Little Petey. Here was a guy under 5'5" who had managed to make himself feared. He was capable, but had excercised bad judgement. He never would again.

The alley echoed from Little Petey's gunfire. Joey D. stood in shock. Petey had a look that spoke of curiousity...which Al liked to see.

Al stepped up face to face with Joey D. and spoke in a low voice "Joey...I always knew you was smart, and you've made a lot of people rich with your smarts...but you f**ked up when you got smart with me. Do we understand each other?"

Joey D. knew his chips were cashed, but he was curious and knew he had nothing more to lose...and all in a few moments he understood that much. That's the way life works for these guys...and most don't get it. Joey did. He was smart. And still TOO smart....

"Yeah, Al...we do...I'm..." even as he began his apology, even having seen Al deflect bullets, he drew his gun, "...I'm...I....I f**ked up didn't I?"

"Yup," Al spoke coldly, then asked "you like the beach or the mountains, Joe?"

Joey knew. "Mountains, Al. There's sharks in the ocean," he said. He just hoped he could keep Al talking long enough for Little Petey to reload. 'Click' came the sound, and Joey D. still thought in his final moments that another clip would save him.

"Too bad...none around here," Al said, "looks like you'll have to settle for the lake. Petey? You wanna die with this prick, or take his spot?"

Petey was reloaded. He could fire at either man. He had just emptied a FULL-CLIP on Al, and Al was still standing. "Sorry, Joe," he said. Joey only took one bullet in the head to die.

"Smart, Petey," Al said, "you're going to live. Make sure old man Voccio doesn't die and you'll keep on living. You work for me directly from now on...see ya tomorrow. I'm supposed to be in Gotham."

Petey never really saw Al leave...he just saw him vanish. 'Jeez,' he thought. Then Petey walked out of the alley to the car, where Joe Alonzo was waiting. They backed the car into the alley and quickly loaded the body of Joey D. into the trunk.

Chicago now had one more missing person's case. The case remains unsolved as of this writing.

****

Back at the Roosevelt Arms in Gotham City, Al Mazzo was ordering room service and polishing off the last of the scotch in the room's mini-bar long before Joey D.'s body was cold. While he felt relaxed, Al still knew there were other parties to be dealt with. Joey D. couldn't have done this without getting some tacit approval from some of the other guys.

'Eh...that'll wait till morning,' he thought, 'Little Petey'll keep a lid on...if he said what happened they'd take him for a loon and whack him on the spot.'

Al arose from the bed and took a long hot shower. He was always relaxed by the warmth and steam, and now was no different. He felt great as he returned to the bed.

He was drowzy and falling into what would be a deep slumber as he asked himself, "am I seriously like them Flash and Superman's? Wow. One of them things, I guess."

 

[Catman_prb]

The Atom hides under a burnt newspaper clipping.

Woah! That guy has no face...or wait it's a mask...still though it's freaky. I can tell from this size that is not the gun the killed Hunter and if he was a threat he would attack first not announce himself.

The Atom comes out from the newspaper clipping and hovers in-front of The Question.

She says, "You know you're not supposed to be in here."

The Question shows no reaction.

She says, "Wow tough crowd. My name is The Atom I knew Hunter. Not well but I knew him. He used to play for the Gotham Knights. Used to be a great reciever until he took one hit upside the head too many. Concusions forced him out of the league. After his last hit he became really strange talking constantly about the end of the world and secret societies. His wife left him and took their 3 kids. He just kind of fell off the grid."

The Atom looks around and says, "All that being said this killing was done with such violence and destruction it was meant to send a message. Hunter was onto something. I liked him...he deserves justice. I want to find his killer and take 'em down."

The Question stared at the Atom with blank eyes.

"I was bluffing about knowing you were here," he said dispassionately.

"Rip Hunter had a list. People who can save the world. I found part of that list. You're Rhiannon Palmer, number 16. I know all about you. But not about Hunter. I need to research him further. Mr. Terrific is waiting in the car. Are you coming?" he said, not bothering to look up from the body on the floor.

 

[Spike_x1]

New Gotham's police force slowly closes in on me, some squads pinning me down with suppressing fire while others advance from cover to cover. I assume they're attempting to get within throwing distance for their grenades. I stay in one spot rather than fly away, to draw their fire, buy some time for my colleagues. Still, I had better make a move before much longer.

It's just me against an army. Fortunately, fighting an army is what I was trained to do.

From a nearby window, a sniper fires at the back of my head. Without hesitation, I spin with my Gauntlets up, deflecting the shot directly back to him. The energy pulse travels right up the barrel of the gun, destroying it.

I duck low, avoiding a stitching of plasma bolts from an advancing squad, and pick up a manhole cover. With one hand, I deflect more gunfire, and with the other, I hurl the manhole cover like a discus, catching two of them in the legs and sending them head-over-heels.

A third, however, lobs a gas grenade towards me. As it arcs through the air, the speed of Hermes kicks in, and time slows to a crawl. I get to the sidewalk with time to spare, and uproot a parking meter to use as a club. The grenade still coming at me, I am reminded for a moment of the American sport of 'base-ball.'

As time reverts back to its normal pace, I swat the gas-bomb away with the parking meter, sending it right into the middle of a second squad.

"Honestly," I call out, brandishing my new makeshift cudgel, "how much longer do you think you're going to hold out? Especially once I actually start fighting back."

The policemen halt their advance, look at each other quizzically, and then one of them breaks rank and runs. Another quickly follows. The floodgates now open, soon they all scatter. I smile, rather pleased with myself. Sometimes, the implication of force is far more effective than the application of it.

My victory is short-lived, however, as I hear the sound of helicopters approaching. They peer over the skyline, blinding floodlights all focused on me, all manner of devastating weaponry ready to fire.

I assume a ready stance on one of the wrecked police cars, and prepare my own weaponry.

I'm more than ready for them now.

As Wonder Woman met the attacking helicopters in battle, both Superman and the Green Lantern too were fired upon by the dwindling supply of men and their weapons. While she dealt with one of the choppers, another one came around behind Wonder Woman, attempting to take her by surprise.

Suddenly, an empty helicopter was hurled into the one taking aim at the Amazonian warrior. As the pilot ejected, Superman flew around and grabbed the lines of his parachute, tying up the pilot in a flash. Now holding the pilot dangling from the lines, the Man of Steel smiled at Wonder Woman. "It shouldn't take much longer to finish up the forces here. I think that Green Lantern and I are going to advance and hopefully catch up with the Flash, wherever he is now. Care to join us, Diana?"

 

[Green Lantern]

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR FIVE.

For the first time, I see an emotion cross Devilman's face that I wouldn't recognize on my own. For a moment, his eyes twitch back to his computer console and the insecurity in his body language makes itself more than apparent. Cracking his cape, he advances from the shadows and steps onto the terminal, typing in a number of commands. All the while, I can do nothing but watch, caged within this Lovecraftian cavern like an animal. I know there's a way out of here, and it's begging to present itself... but he's kept it well hidden. Which only confirms my earlier suspicions.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR SIX.

What I saw on his face, under that cowl, was fear. He's actually beginning to become afraid of what he can't anticipate.

Odd. Even despite his justifications, he's showing the classic signs of the pathological train of thought. The criminal mind's tell tale. It's a general hypothesis first brought to my attention in Wales, under the study of my early criminology professors... a lesson that would set the path of my mission in stone. Fear, anxiety, doubt, and other traits are more commonly associated in those who hide a lingering guilt stemming from acts they would ordinarily condone as heinous or unjust. This is usually the case with the 'sane' ones, as it were, as opposed to men like Johnathan Crane or Harvey Dent. Their insanity cloaks any possible guilt.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR SEVEN.

But if Devilman is more pathological than psychotic, then something's seriously wrong. With his tendencies being those of a fascist, combined with my drive to rid Gotham of evil, there's no telling how much of a burden he's placed upon himself. It's an amazement that he's been able to drive Gotham into a tolitarian state for this long without suffering serious mental relapses. Some would call that a red flag, or consider it a call for help.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR EIGHT.

Given my circumstances, however... I call it an opening.

"Computer. Initiate Lockdown mode, and locate origin of breach."

Devilman studies the monitors as they spring to life, showing the point of view of several security cameras inside of an office building. An office building I instantly recognize. He's looking at the inside of Wayne Enterprises. Or, rather... whatever his Wayne Enterprises is.

"Freeze frame on camera two."

A red blur. It takes a moment, but I realize who the so-called 'intruder' is.

"The Speedster. Interesting,", Devilman muses. "While I am impressed with your friend's resolve, I have to wonder how he even knew to look in Wayne Tower in the first place. You wouldn't happen to know the answer to that, would you, Bruce?"

I actually wonder that myself. True, I knew The Flash was aware of my identity, but I never got the chance to question how he actually managed to stumble upon that information. All that I know is that he learned it the night of that fundraiser I threw for the Gotham Orphans Foundation, two years ago. As I recall, that was also the night the The Creeper murdered Carmine Falcone infront of Lex Luthor.

There's a reason I haven't thrown any parties since.

"While I'd love to tackle the challenge of killing him myself, I'd rather not risk it. But I'm not about to let him roam my company unattended,", He continues, a vicious smile on his lips with every word as he taps his cowl again. "Canary. Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear. I'm just about enroute to Gotham Square now."

"Then you're going to need to change course. I have a more immediate problem for you to handle."

I grit my teeth, thinking of my own mistake. Damn it. If I had kept my costume and equipment with me, I could have possibly jammed into The Flash's Keystone City PD communicator and warned him of an attack. He shouldn't have come for me. None of them should have.

"-and he's currently making his way to the top floor. He can't find us here, and I'm leaving it to you to make sure he doesn't. Don't fail me."

"I'll do what I can. Do you want him dead?"

"Beyond, my dear. Make it as messy as possible."

"You're the boss."

He shuts off the communicator and looks to me. "Predictable, really. Canary's never had much of willpower of her own."

I assume that's the stark difference between his world's and my world's. I can't imagine a Dinah Lance that would ever take an order from me. Then again, I can't imagine a version of me that would manipulate her like this in the first pla-

...

Wait. I have done that before.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR SIX.

By the time she arrived at the partially condemned Wayne Enterprises, the sirens were already blaring from every corner. Titanium shock absorbers lined the walls, and the floors were gated. But from inspecting the white hot metal of their bars, it was clear that they hadn't done much good to stop the would-be hero that was looking for his friend. She sneered, kicking open the already damaged blockade and stepping over to the other side, heading towards the elevator. Speedsters. What a waste of potential.

Sliding her access card through the authorization slot, she stepped inside, tossing away the jacket she had been wearing to conceal the costume underneath. It was bad enough she had to ride the cycle here. If Devilman actually trusted her, he would've lent her a car. Or a decent change of clothes.

Top floor, coming right up.

You're mine, hero.

Barry flinched as he heard the ding of an elevator. He looked over as the doors slid open. The woman inside was stunning. Her latex costume flowed over her curvy frame. Barry would have been floored by her beauty but for the scowl on her face.

"Whoa princess, what's wrong? Latex wedgie?" Must be security... hell of an uniform.

"Breaking and entering into Wayne Tower? That's punishable by death."

Before Barry could react, she opened her mouth to let loose a sonic cry that shattered the windows on the floor. Barry's ears began to bleed as he dropped to his knees.

Focus. FOCUS BARRY. FOCUS.

His hand went to his masked face, holding his eyes as his head throbbed from the piercing noise. As the woman took a pause for a breath, Barry got to his feet.

You can do this Barry...

Barry focused on the villainess in front of him, and watched as the world began to move in slow motion around him. She began to scream again, but Barry was ready. The soundwaves ripped through empty air, and then shattered the wall behind where Barry had been.

"Sorry babe, but I'm faster than sound."

Barry dropped his elbow into the back of the Dark Canary's head.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

The Question stared at the Atom with blank eyes.

"I was bluffing about knowing you were here," he said dispassionately.

"Rip Hunter had a list. People who can save the world. I found part of that list. You're Rhiannon Palmer, number 16. I know all about you. But not about Hunter. I need to research him further. Mr. Terrific is waiting in the car. Are you coming?" he said, not bothering to look up from the body on the floor.

The Atom shows no emotion but inside is seething.

This guy knows about me but I know nothing about him...however if he wanted to take me out he could've done it during my little speech. Why not?

She floats right up to The Question's face and says, "Okay just so you know...the whole no face thing...interesting choice. Must be easy for the Police Sketch Artist to draw you up."

The Atom floats towards the door and says, "Come on Hunter loved his family my guess somehow he tried to pass things onto her. E-mail phone calls text if this as big as you say Hunter ha to have contacted someone."

 

[Andy C.]

Suddenly, an empty helicopter was hurled into the one taking aim at the Amazonian warrior. As the pilot ejected, Superman flew around and grabbed the lines of his parachute, tying up the pilot in a flash. Now holding the pilot dangling from the lines, the Man of Steel smiled at Wonder Woman. "It shouldn't take much longer to finish up the forces here. I think that Green Lantern and I are going to advance and hopefully catch up with the Flash, wherever he is now. Care to join us, Diana?"

"I'd be happy to," I say, returning the smile as the twisted wreckage of the helicopters tumbles down to the streets below. "This world's answer to Batman seems to have the entire city's defenses under his thrall. The sooner we bring the fight to our enemies rather than the other way around, the better."

I take position alongside Green Lantern, and together the three of us advance, easily plowing through the remaining forces in our way and heading towards the most obvious target in the city: Wayne Tower.

As we make our way through the glass-and-steel canyons, I can't help but say what I'm thinking.

"We really ought to consider joining our forces more often," I remark. "Think of how much more effective we could be with a little more organization."

Superman shoots me a sideways glance, and I realize that here, in a world where our doubles have overthrown humanity by working together, might not be the best time to make such a proposition.

"Just...think about it," I say as our target draws near.

 

[RamsesIII]

Mr. Nobody sat there with a plate of pasta. He had a way of using Quiz's unique abilities to the strangest of purposes.

"We really shouldn't have broken everyone's instruments. Now the brown note will be less enjoyable. I guess I'll just sit here eating my plate of pasta. You see, The Quiz really knows how to make a good plate of pasta. I like mine real chewy, and some people just don't understand that."

He looked at his pasta for a second.

"I never really did understand why the Futurists are so against pasta. I mean, I love pasta! It's such a great, Italian meal! What could an Italian art movement have against..."

As he spoke, August interrupted (a man who, interestingly enough, was born on the Fourth of July).

"Excuse me, sir, but you sound nuts."

"Oh, that's quite alright, Horatio. Many people don't understand..."

"No. I mean it. You have serious issues. Why are you hiding from the reality of your existence? Your pointlessness really does have a point, sadly. You can't handle the everyday existence that comes along with living. By abandoning rationality, I think you're really trying to abandon reality. "Cogito ergo Sum." I think therefore I am. It just seems to me like you're trying to avoid thinking to the point where you simply cease to exist."

A dead silence pervaded the room. Mr. Nobody chewed his pasta.

 

[Spike_x1]

"I'd be happy to," I say, returning the smile as the twisted wreckage of the helicopters tumbles down to the streets below. "This world's answer to Batman seems to have the entire city's defenses under his thrall. The sooner we bring the fight to our enemies rather than the other way around, the better."

I take position alongside Green Lantern, and together the three of us advance, easily plowing through the remaining forces in our way and heading towards the most obvious target in the city: Wayne Tower.

As we make our way through the glass-and-steel canyons, I can't help but say what I'm thinking.

"We really ought to consider joining our forces more often," I remark. "Think of how much more effective we could be with a little more organization."

Superman shoots me a sideways glance, and I realize that here, in a world where our doubles have overthrown humanity by working together, might not be the best time to make such a proposition.

"Just...think about it," I say as our target draws near.

"Actually," started Superman, "I agree with you. There are threats out there, not unlike Despero, that one of us alone might not be able to stop." At a time like this, Clark tried hard not to think about Lex Luthor and his Society back home. "We're all in the business of helping people, but we're not really accountable to anyone, and none of us seem to have anyone on hand that we can fall back on in times of need. Forming a group or a team of peers just makes sense." Thinking back to how forming a team had worked out for this world's heroes, Clark pauses. "But we can't let ourselves fall victim to the same trap that made this reality's heroes into such power-mad monsters."

Following his telescopic and X-ray vision, Superman guided the group straight through one of the front windows of Wayne Tower to find the Flash in a large open room, standing over the unconscious body of a woman in a costume.

 

[RamsesIII]

The Quiz couldn't help but remember that it was Mr. Nobody's birthday: he had been born in 1945.

It's said his mother had been vacationing near Dresden when Mr. Nobody (at that time merely a man named Morden) was born, somewhat prematurely. The doctor joked he must have been excited to see the world for the first time.

Morden's first sight after coming out of his mother's womb was the bombing of Dresden. He had apparently cried and cried every waking moment for the three days the bombing persisted and then ten days after.

It was only when Morden's mother ran away... left Dresden that Morden stopped crying.

As all these thoughts spun around in her head, the Quiz came to the realization that Mr. Nobody was 64. What was a 64-year-old man doing here, with them, acting like's he's mad? The Fog knew, Sleepwalk knew, and even Mr. Nobody knew. The Quiz, too, finally knew.

It's easier to feign madness than live rationally. What was it about Morden's life that had made it so horrid, though? What had made it so unbearable? Was it still there? They would never ask. It didn't matter: he would never answer.

This man, though, had gotten at the core of it all. He had told them all what they already knew: they knew what they knew. Why'd he have to point it out to everyone? What's wrong with escapism? What makes reality so great?

She teleported the group away from the situation. At their headquarters, Mr. Nobody's apartment in Metropolis, The Quiz stroked Nobody's neck. She knew he wasn't mad. What difference did it make? None of them were.

 

[Andy C.]

"Actually," started Superman, "I agree with you. There are threats out there, not unlike Despero, that one of us alone might not be able to stop." At a time like this, Clark tried hard not to think about Lex Luthor and his Society back home. "We're all in the business of helping people, but we're not really accountable to anyone, and none of us seem to have anyone on hand that we can fall back on in times of need. Forming a group or a team of peers just makes sense." Thinking back to how forming a team had worked out for this world's heroes, Clark pauses. "But we can't let ourselves fall victim to the same trap that made this reality's heroes into such power-mad monsters."

I find it more than a little reassuring that Superman not only approves of my suggestion, but isn't afraid to speak the doubts I was only considering. A commander who is able to balance pragmatism with morality would be a very effective one indeed.

Following his telescopic and X-ray vision, Superman guided the group straight through one of the front windows of Wayne Tower to find the Flash in a large open room, standing over the unconscious body of a woman in a costume.

We arrive in what must be our enemy's base of operations, to see that our advance scout had already disposed of a foe. I can only imagine what her powers must be, but it's clear that her outfit was meant to have rather...unique effect on men. I'm well aware of how to use one's physique to provide a psychological advantage, but I at least have supernatural strength to make up for the lack of armor.

"Good work, Flash," I commend our compatriot. "Any sign yet of Batman? This world's or ours?"

 

[Batman]

It was Edgar Allen Poe that once said, "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream".

I wish that, in this moment - given where I find myself, what I'm observing, and the surreal qualities of what I'm being forced to believe is real - that I could believe him. I wish that instead of having to acknowledge this madness as apart of reality, I could turn back time and prevent myself from making the mistakes that led me here. I let my confidence, my guilt, and more importantly, my desperation get the better of me.

As I watch him loom above his security console, watching my world's metahumans arrive to greet The Flash, I notice his eyes. Ever still, of course, but observant. Preying. Like a caged animal who's already found a way to escape and unleash hell. It reminds me of what I could have become, easily. What the persona of Batman could have transformed me into, had I not posessed the will to keep my mission's goal in check. If it had been as obvious to me before this started, before I was brought here... I may have been spared this. Only then do I wonder to myself. Desperation. Madness. Guilt and confidence.

Is that where Devilman came to be?

"Your friends are persistent, Bruce. It's an annoyance,", He tells me through an angered growl. "Typical, really. Even with reality itself between them, your Earth's 'heroes' serve the same purpose as mine. To be distractions."

I haven't spoken to him for awhile. And it's beginning to make him angry. That was intentional on my part, because I know what I can count on in an opponent that's afraid of me. They talk too much. Try to mask their fears with brave words and exclamations. Try to take the focus away from their raised pulses and trembling hands.

Which is what bothers him so much. Not once, since I've remained in his captivity, have I shown him even the faintest trace of fear. But looking at him now, I've realized that he's been showing me plenty of his.

That almost-chilling smirk of his returns. "Make no mistake, though, I will kill them for what they did to Dark Canary. One by one. Slowly, and cruely, if nessecary."

"And then what?", I wonder aloud. "What happens when they're dead? What have you accomplished?"

He looks back at me. "The impossible, proving once again why Gotham needs me. Then I go back to my work, keeping the city safe from threats like you. Weak-minded fools and idealists, standing in the way of realism."

I narrow my eyes. "And that's all this means to you. The chance to prove yourself."

"You say that as if you're not doing the same."

"I'm not,", I assure him, with disdain. "I do it for the people who need me. The men and women who suffer at the hands of madmen like you."

"I'm sure.", He replies, in a tone laced with venom. "And what about the people who really matter?"

I raise my eyebrow. "They are the people who really matter. Who else could there be?"

"Mom and dad."

There's no response. He looks back at me, with a smile, gourging in the small moment of silence, when I have nothing to say to defend myself."I thought that might get you to shut up."

He turns around, fully facing me, his cloak wrapping around him like a living shadow itself. "You can deny it all you want, but this is the legacy that they left behind for us. We didn't choose it ourselves, despite your blind nobility. When they died, they gave us the responsibility, no matter what it took, of making Gotham City a safer place."

"And you honestly think they'd condone that?", I ask. "My father fought for the sake of the city's peace and civility."

"And what better way can peace and civility be achieved... than through fear?"

"What will they have to fear if they're dead?"

He smiles. "There's a reason I call myself Devilman... and not Batman."

Anger courses through me as he reassumes his watch over the heroes.

"Good work, Flash,", Wonder Woman's words echo through speakers set up around the cavern. "Any sign yet of Batman? This world's or ours?"

Devilman clears his throat, before pressing a button on the console. I can only guess, judging from what happens next, it feeds directly into an intercom over the room where the others stand.

"I'm sure he hasn't, because I haven't allowed him to. And that goes for all of you.", He boasts, as my allies begin looking around in confusion. "If you're looking for your beloved ...'Batman', he's with me. Bound and helpless, just like the criminals he foolishly left alive in your world. I'm sure with the crutch that you people consider 'powers', it would take you little time to find him, but I'm encouraging you to turn back. Leave my city at once, and never return."

None of them move, or even acknowledge the veiled threat behind his message.

"No? Then welcome to Wayne Tower, heroes. Get used to the accommodations, because they're about to become your last."

I watch the monitors carefully, as Devilman turns away. He begins preparing a series of mechanical warriors that look particularly lethal. Not my style at all. But what I notice, as he's turned his attention to his malicious intentions, is that one of the metahumans that was in the Tower isn't there anymore. Vanished, almost as if he's sunk into the floors themselves. None of the others notice his abscence as they begin discussing amongst themselves, but I'm sure of what I saw.

It was the one with green skin. The extraterrestrial.

~Are you injured?~

I turn around, in shock, seeing nothing behind me. I heard a voice. No one is there, but I know I heard it.

Am I going mad? ~You are not.~

My eyes widen once more, as the voice grows louder. Almost... closer. As if it's closing in on my mind. My mouth begins to open to speak, but I'm suddenly compelled not to.

~I would advise not to speak with words, for danger lurks near. You may reply to me with your thoughts.~

I look around, trying to make sense of this. But time, and circumstance, is running out for the need of rationality. So I do what the voice says. I reply with my thoughts.

Are you there?

~I am, indeed.~

Who... or what, are you?

~What I am is irrelevant, for now. Who I am is J'onn J'onnz, The Martian Manhunter. You saw me with the others, earlier.~

And you're reading my mind.

~I sense distrust and uncertainty within you, Mr. Wayne. But I assure you, my only intention is to aide.~

By reading my mind?

~By offering you freedom, and the chance to join us on the path home.~

And what is 'home'?

~Your Gotham City. Your reality. For I am aware that you are really The Batman.~

And you knew that by invading my private subconscious. How am I supposed to trust you if you're going to pry into my-

~I knew of your identity long before now, Mr. Wayne. I have concealed it from the others, the ones who have earned my trust, when I could have easily told every being on Earth. And it shall remain a secret. You have my word.~

I consider this. While I want to keep a close eye on this individual, he brings up a valid point. If he knew who I was from the beginning, and chose not to tell the others, then he's proven worthy of my trust. For the moment.

You heard all of that, didn't you?

~Yes, and I fully understand. Now, regarding your escape. What do you need of me?~

I need to be freed from these shackles. But that's all. Devilman has to be stopped before he can attack the others, and I'm the only one that knows him well enough to do it. He's made this too personal.

The Martian doesn't reply for a moment, but eventually, I hear his voice again. ~Very well.~

Before I can do anything, I feel a grip upon my hands. But I still see nothing. ~Do not be alarmed. I have simply rendered myself intangible, along with...~

The shackles disappear before my eyes. ~...your bonds.~

Had I not seen it myself, I wouldn't believe it.

Moving my arms to make sure that I'm truly free, I get to my feet and rub my swollen wrists. I've been here for hours, and treated like a prisoner. It's past time that I extended my gratitude for it. Moving to the cage's door, I grab the lock and silently pull it in.

~If you need me to open the door, I-~

No. I've got it.

With the task at hand in mind, I bend down and rip off one of my shoelaces. Wrapping it around the tip of my finger, I use the plastic around it's edge to pick the lock and open the gate.

~Impressive.~

It was nothing.

You need to go back, before your absence is noticed. Tell the others not to worry about the threat... but more importantly, not to underestimate Devilman. It shouldn't be long before I can join you.

~You cannot join us now?~

Like I said before. Devilman is mine. And besides...

I glance over at a row of Batsuits, strung up in glass cases on the other side of the cavern. Devilman's too busy to notice, as I sneak into the shadows, advancing towards them.

...I need a moment to prepare.

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...

Orin and Rodunn had been traveling for days to the mystical, dark city of Thierna Na Oge. Upon there way there have been a few bumps with savages and pillagers of the sea, but they were quickly disposed of for they were no match for Atlantis' newest champion and hero: Orin. It is just now, that they finally lay their eyes on the city of Thierna Na Oge.

It is just now, that for the first time Rodunn seems to tense up and worry.

"You fear the Shalakites, Rodunn?"

"We all fear the unknown, Orin. Here in Theirna Na Oge, a swordsman cannot trust or rely on the edge of his blade. Here in Thierna Na Oge, agents of Nuliajuk are ever present. It is said that a powerful mage dwells in Thierna Na Oge. Higher than them all; who leads a batallion of sorcerors and magic users. This mage goes by the name of Hagen. And they are discreet until that cast a spell upon you, and you meet whatever Fate they desire."

"My Fate is in the hands of the Sisters of Fate. No man nor creature shall have sway over that."

"You pay such tributes to the Sisters of Fate, yet not to the Gods?"

Orin remains quiet for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. He recalls what Nuidis Vulko told him abuot the deaths of Kordax and Cora: the Atlanteans Vulko so strongly believes to be Orin's father and mother. Then he recalls the history of Atlantis.

"The Gods are but mere children, getting into fits of rage when they do not get what they want. Even they do not have any control over the Fates. So why should I bow to those whom bow to others?"

"You should be mindful of your words and how you speak about the Gods, Orin. They could easily betray you. For the Gods are the ones whom views us more directly, not your beloved Sisters. Can your Sisters protect you from Poseidon's wrath when they are so afar beyond the stars?"

"If there is one whom needs protection, then let it be the Gods. For the very Ocean herself watches over me."

Stunned behind the valor and supreme ways of this newcomer, Rodunn cannot help but express his feeling of awe. Without hesitation Orin swims forth heading closer and closer to Thierna Na Oge. Soon Rodunn too takes swim towards the city, but his eyes ever so often looking back and around him.

They are in the Shalakites territory now. Most vicious and sadistic of the barbarian Atlantean tribes.

Out from the city, before Orin and Rodunn even make it to its entrance, comes a swarm of sea creatures. Mutilated and scarred, if one were to stare at them for but a moment, they could not so easily see that they were once swordfish, manta rays, and turtles that once roamed the Seven Seas in peace.

"This is the Shalakites doing! See how their magics corrupt the very creatures of the sea! ENGUARDE!"

Taking out his javelin and sword, Rodunn engages the creatures of the deep. Orin leaves his coral sword in its sheath however, and tackles the mutated turtle head on, smashing against its shell.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Giganta and Cheetah arrive at one of the off-site simluator chambers.

Cheetah asks, "What is this place? Why am I here?"

Doris replies, "This is called the simulator chamber. I have observed hours of you in action. You are skilled and powerful, but you rely far too much on brute force and your feral nature. Mr. Luthor and I feel that you some refinement."

Cheetah growls and Doris, "what gives you right the judge me?"

Doris enters a code on the computer and shows video footage of her first assualt in Metropolis and then the hours of work in the simulator.

Doris then stops the footage and asks, "See the difference?"

Cheetah nods and says, "I do much more focused attacks and far more intellegent in your choices of attacks."

Doris nods and says, "Exactly. This computer program is designed to teach you these methods so when the time is right you will know what to do."

She motions for Cheetah to step into the chamber. Once she steps in Doris begins running a program and watches the Cheetah in action.

Doris then sends a text to Luthor stating. "She is like a gun in the hands of a brute, but with the proper trainning she can then become like a gun in the hands of an assassin."

 

[Catman_prb]

The Atom shows no emotion but inside is seething.

This guy knows about me but I know nothing about him...however if he wanted to take me out he could've done it during my little speech. Why not?

She floats right up to The Question's face and says, "Okay just so you know...the whole no face thing...interesting choice. Must be easy for the Police Sketch Artist to draw you up."

The Atom floats towards the door and says, "Come on Hunter loved his family my guess somehow he tried to pass things onto her. E-mail phone calls text if this as big as you say Hunter ha to have contacted someone."

"This is not the Hunter you knew," the Question said coolly "I don't know when it happened, but he's dead, and versions of him from the future, or the past, or alternate timelines or something have replaced him. The man that was dead all over this apartment was from the future. He has lists, lists of everything that will happen to this planet in this Crisis. But somebody saw it fit to kill him, and burn those lists. I found one list, labelled the Outsiders. Your name was on it, Terrific's name was on it and so was mine. My real name. Now I want to find the bastard that killed him and hang him out to dry, because there's a REASON for all this,"

He slammed his gloved hand on the wall for emphasis.

"The lamborghini's out back. We're going to check some of Luthor's offices. That's where answers tend to be,"

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"This is not the Hunter you knew," the Question said coolly "I don't know when it happened, but he's dead, and versions of him from the future, or the past, or alternate timelines or something have replaced him. The man that was dead all over this apartment was from the future. He has lists, lists of everything that will happen to this planet in this Crisis. But somebody saw it fit to kill him, and burn those lists. I found one list, labelled the Outsiders. Your name was on it, Terrific's name was on it and so was mine. My real name. Now I want to find the bastard that killed him and hang him out to dry, because there's a REASON for all this,"

He slammed his gloved hand on the wall for emphasis.

"The lamborghini's out back. We're going to check some of Luthor's offices. That's where answers tend to be,"

The Atom floats in space for for a second trying to understand everything that she has just been told.

She then hears the Question snap, ""You coming?"

The Atom then floats along following The Question she says, "Sorry about that...it's just...I...I don't know what has me more off-balance. The whole alternate timeline thing, time travel possiblity and that Lex Luthor is somehow involved in all of this."

The Question asks, ""Or?"

The Atom takes a deep breath and says, "Or this vulnerable feeling that someone out there may actually know who I really am. I have worked so hard in my life to be semi-anonymous mainly because of who my parents were and my work as The Atom but now...I feel my sense of privacy has been stripped away."

 

[Catman_prb]

The Atom floats in space for for a second trying to understand everything that she has just been told.

She then hears the Question snap, ""You coming?"

The Atom then floats along following The Question she says, "Sorry about that...it's just...I...I don't know what has me more off-balance. The whole alternate timeline thing, time travel possiblity and that Lex Luthor is somehow involved in all of this."

The Question asks, ""Or?"

The Atom takes a deep breath and says, "Or this vulnerable feeling that someone out there may actually know who I really am. I have worked so hard in my life to be semi-anonymous mainly because of who my parents were and my work as The Atom but now...I feel my sense of privacy has been stripped away."

"We can spend all day talking about your issues over who you are, or what you do. Or you can accept that someone from the future thinks that you are important. Hell, he may have thought that you were worth saving. Quite frankly, it freaks me out too. Because I am the ONLY one who knows who I am. And the only way anyone will ever find out is if I am dead. I am dead in the future. But I'm still going to save it," the Question growled.

"Now, you can come with me, or you can stay here and *****. If I'm right, there's someone at the Luthor offices already, and I want to catch her," he said, walking out the door.

"And who's that?" the Atom asked petulantly.

"The Gotham Connection,"

 

[Batman]

Hal Jordan - Season III​

On a distant world, one universe away...

Seven elders meditate in darkness. Draped in crimson, but their skin glowing with energy, these impish beings - of power beyond compare - spend their infinite time monitoring events of worlds beyond their own. They are The Guardians of The Universe, keepers to the intergalactic force known only as The Green Lantern Corps. And what they claim to monitor is the galaxy, in it's entirety.

This is inaccurate. What they truly monitor is time. Past, present... and future.

Driven by their intelligence, but hindered by a six-thousand year age, these Guardians have seen both the beginning of worlds and end of worlds. But even with their power, they look upon these events through holes... pockets, often filled with terror and death. It is here that a Green Lantern would normally intervene, instructed by their wise and aging masters.

But this day, they see something that cannot be stopped. By Green Lanterns, or any hero alike.

Only the first one to decipher the prediction's meaning speaks.

"My brothers..."

His fearful eyes open.

"I foresee a reckoning."

Well... we know he's subtle, at least.

On another world, populated by the twisted mirror images of his very own, Hal Jordan - The Green Lantern - shows not a trace of fear in the face of danger. Only concern. Concern, masked by bravery and resolve far beyond his years. He and his allies, Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman, are being threatened by a man who very obviously believes himself the very incarnation of fear. "The Dark Warlord of Gotham", Hal heard whispered by it's petrified citizens.

Raising his ring to eye level, Hal tries to channel as much of it's energy as he can - but it is unfortunately scarce, and limited. He assumed as much, given how much he struggled to concentrate in the previous battle. Being on this world was causing too much interference.

"Ring. How much juice do you have?"

- Power Levels At 43.6% Efficiency -

Hal sneered. "Terrific. Barely enough for a test flight."

The others glanced at him, momentarily perplexed. They had yet to understand the fundamentals or limitations of a Green Lantern power ring. They also didn't understand that, without it, Hal felt as useless as an unarmed soldier in the middle of a warzone. Fittingly enough, considering that this version of Gotham City looked like one.

"Let's hope we can find this Batman guy soon. I don't know when I'll get a chance to charge this thing,", Hal suggested, gravely noting his surroundings. "Seems like danger's lurking in every corner of this town."

In a moment of trust, Jordan turned to Superman - who, from the start, has seemed like the logical person to turn to. "What's the plan, big guy?"

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"We can spend all day talking about your issues over who you are, or what you do. Or you can accept that someone from the future thinks that you are important. Hell, he may have thought that you were worth saving. Quite frankly, it freaks me out too. Because I am the ONLY one who knows who I am. And the only way anyone will ever find out is if I am dead. I am dead in the future. But I'm still going to save it," the Question growled.

"Now, you can come with me, or you can stay here and *****. If I'm right, there's someone at the Luthor offices already, and I want to catch her," he said, walking out the door.

"And who's that?" the Atom asked petulantly.

"The Gotham Connection,"

The Atom floats as The Question strides on and asks, "This is going to be one of those situations where every answer leads to another set of questions or a set of answers that some people will do everything in the power, legal or not, to keep them from ever become public knowledge."

The Question then stops and just looks at her.

The Atom says, "I can't see your face but I'm guessing you're giving me a look of 'what do you think?' "

She steades herself and says, "All-right then. Let's do this. They may not have been the Hunter I knew in there, and I don't understand the logistics of how someone may or may not know who I am. However I know that there was a murder committed in my city and I want the killer brought to justice."

They continue to the car.

 

[Catman_prb]

They continue to the car.

They approached the lamborghini as the Atom restored herself to normal size. The Question saw Terry's pupils dilate and his jaw slacken slightly. He rolled his eyes behind the mask.

"Before you say anything," he said "This is Terry Holt. He's physically attracted to you. The two of you can now make small talk. I imagine that it'll be something to do with me being a jerk,"

 

[MST3K 4ever]

They approached the lamborghini as the Atom restored herself to normal size. The Question saw Terry's pupils dilate and his jaw slacken slightly. He rolled his eyes behind the mask.

"Before you say anything," he said "This is Terry Holt. He's physically attracted to you. The two of you can now make small talk. I imagine that it'll be something to do with me being a jerk,"

The Atom is somewhat embarassed by what THe Question has said

The Atom looks at Terry and says, "So been hangin' out with the Blackbird of Happiness for a long time?"

Terry chuckles and says, "He's not such a bad guy once you get to know him. He is a little intense about...everything."

The Atom replies, " I've worked with Batman. He's intense this guy is a jerk, but I gotta feeling when push comes to shove he's a good guy to have in your corner."

Terry asks, "So what's your deal with all of this?"

The Atom says, "There was murder I want it solved."

Terry Nods and asks, "So umm....what's your power?"

The Atom chuckles and says, "If we were in a superhero bar I think that line would be the equal of 'do you come here often?' Not a dumb question to keep the conversation going. I'll give you points for that."

She shrinks to 6 inches and says, "My Name is The Atom."

 

[Andy C.]

ex Luthor​

"That should do it," Luthor narrated to himself, L-Soft recording it with the rest of the procedure, as he completed the revised schematics for the seeding vessels that were so critical to the long-term goals of Project Wildfire. Between his hyperspatial warp drive, Dr. Sivana's self-sustaining terraform engines, and the new technology provided by Rip Hunter, there were more than enough scientific conundrums and contradictions to iron out. The average scientist would have taken a lifetime just to understand the kinks in the design, let alone solve them. Indeed, even Luthor himself had some difficulty in perfecting it--it had taken him nearly all morning to get it done.

As he leaned back in his work-chair to bask in his own glory, L-Soft informed him of an incoming text regarding Giganta's training of the newly-acquired Cheetah.

Doris then sends a text to Luthor stating. "She is like a gun in the hands of a brute, but with the proper trainning she can then become like a gun in the hands of an assassin."

"Excellent work," Luthor dictated to L-Soft, whose voice-recognition software entered the response into text. "Along with the recruits we've acquired from Central City, our little task force should prove quite formidable indeed. Send."

"Message sent," L-Soft complied. "Mr. Luthor, I have just been informed that Senator Ross has arrived in the Project Labs. That completes the list of everyone scheduled to attend today's demonstration--aside from yourself, of course."

"Well then, I suppose I shouldn't keep them all waiting," he said, hanging up his lab coat and then making his way from his private lab in the LexCorp Tower's twentieth sub-basement to the elevator, and from there to Project Labs in the tenth sub-basement.

As he stepped out of the elevator and onto the production floor, he was greeted by a few of the lab technicians and escorted to a makeshift conference hall, where most of the key members of the Society were waiting for him.

"Fashionably late as always, Lex," Pete Ross said, greeting him with a politician's smile and handshake.

"Do we still have that double-digit lead over our opponents?"

"Easily. We're absolutely slaughtering them, dissenters aside. A lot of the chattering class on the radio are throwing everything they've got at us, but our own press corps has been more than enough to drown them out. The election's already in the bag, but once you speak at the rally in Centennial Park next week, it'll be a landslide like this country has never seen."

"I've been practicing my speech all week. And how about the international front?"

The Society's latest high-profile member, Henri Ducard, chimed in.

"A vast majority of the Asian block, particularly the Chinese, are already in step with what we've got in mind. The European Union has basically fallen in love with the idea of being buddies with 'Luthor's America,' since they believe that once we undo most of the country's pesky habits, we'll be easier to manipulate. Naturally, they have no idea it is they who are being manipulated--typical European delusion. On top of that, most of the less cooperative nations in Africa and the Middle East have already pledged their willingness to play ball, even though they have no idea what's in store for them."

"I knew I could count on your organization to bring them around," Lex nodded. "And how are the enforcers for the transitional phase looking?"

"If you mean the soldiers, they're more than ready," General Wade Eiling answered him. "Operative Wilson has been extremely effective in his actions to break down potential resistance and opposition before Wild Fire goes into effect, and the Knight-Watch units have been training in the simulators on constantly-updated programs for when it happens. Whie sims aren't anything compared to real action in the field, so far they've exceeded all performance expectation. They're scheduled to engage live metahuman targets on the night of your speech."

Luthor smiled, making no effort to hide his pleasure in seeing how well his 'cape-buster' technology was proving itself. With that out of the way, he moved to the head of the conference hall.

"Gentlemen, I know you're not here for a simple status report, or to discuss anything that we could simply cover at our next meeting. No, we're here to demonstrate exactly what the Society was meant to do--to transform the world by doing the impossible.

"By now I'm sure you're all aware of our joint venture with the somewhat infamous Dr. Rip Hunter. His theories have rendered him an outcast from the scientific community, what with his insistance on the possibility, and even his knowing practice, of fourth-dimensional displacement--in layman's terms, time travel."

The members of the Society murmured to each other skeptically.

"I can assure you, it's all absolutely true. Dr. Hunter's device is fully capable of warping space and time to send a user into the past by up to a thousand years. However, due to limitations of its power cells, moving forward in time has thus far been impossible. Until today. Dr. Hunter?"

Rip Hunter approached the men, smiling that used-car-salesman smile of his, and wearing a metallic belt that looked like something out of a Buck Rogers strip.

"Thank you, Mr. Luthor--believe me, you've got my vote!" he said, eliciting a polite chuckle from the group. "Anyway, yes, until this point, I haven't been able to generate the necessary power to auger through the dimensional membrane for forward movement--it's a lot harder to get to events that are going to happen than it is to get to events that already have. But thanks to contributions to the design by my colleague Dr. David Clinton, as well as revisions by the inimitable Mr. Luthor himself, we've completed a prototype that will break the time barrier, and unlock the secrets of the future!"

In a normal environment, Hunter would have likely been laughed out of the room then and there. However, the Society was already acquainted with some of the more outlandish technology proposed by Luthor and Sivana, so a claim like that was now basically par for the course.

"Today, I'm going to take this thing out for a proverbial test drive, and travel one year into our future. Obviously, I'll bring back some souvenirs as proof, and from there, we can launch further expeditions into deep time. Wish me luck!"

Rip Hunter flipped a small switch on the buckle of his belt, causing it to light up in a bright electric blue. The room filled with a rising high-pitched whine, like a jet turbine starting up.

Luthor and the other members of the Society took a few steps back as arcs of light began to spew forth from the belt, stopping along a barrier that surrounded Hunter like an invisible sphere. For a moment, Lex was reminded of one of those novelty plasma-balls they used to show children in elementary science class. The ethereal sphere began to glow, flooding the entire room with its light, and then it flashed violently, a loud SNAP punctuating it.

When the light subsided, Hunter was gone.

"Well, that concludes part one of the demonstration," Lex announced. "With any luck, he'll be back any minute now. In the meantime, I believe there are refreshments in the lobby--"

Before any of them even rose from their seats, there was a second SNAP, the ball of irredescent blue light returning in almost the exact same space. When it faded away, Hunter was standing before them again.

This Hunter, though, was different. His outfit was ragged, his hair grown out and unkempt. He had a wild look in his eyes, like a man who had been pushed to the very limits of his sanity.

"Time," he muttered to himself. "Still....still have time!"

"L-Soft, send a medical team down to tend to Dr. Hunter," Lex mentioned off-handedly, before slowly approaching the man. "Dr. Hunter? Can you hear me?"

"Still time...can stop it. Can't do it, have to do it!"

"Have do to what? What is it that we can stop?"

Hunter stared at him blankly for a moment, then screamed like a madman and charged headlong at Luthor.

"Your fault! YOUR FAULT! Dead, all of them! All of us! ALL YOUR FAULT!!!"

He tried to tackle Luthor, but Lex's extensive martial-arts training took over, and he instinctively wrestled the man to the ground.

"Security! Take this man out of here, now!"

Within seconds, the room swarmed with LexCorp security personnel, who helped Lex to his feet and dog-piled onto the deranged Rip Hunter, clutching to his belt like it was his child.

"Have to stop it! Have to warn everyone!" He shouted as he activated the belt again. The guards attempted to pry it away from him, but the electric-blue light pulled them in as well, and with another loud SNAP, they all vanished.

The Society stood there, in stunned silence, as Lex Luthor dusted himself off.

"Well. It seems there are a few more flaws in the design that need working out. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my lab," he said curtly, before storming out of the room.

Three weeks into the past, Rip Hunter was murdered.

 

[Spike_x1]

"Let's hope we can find this Batman guy soon. I don't know when I'll get a chance to charge this thing,", Hal suggested, gravely noting his surroundings. "Seems like danger's lurking in every corner of this town."

In a moment of trust, Jordan turned to Superman - who, from the start, has seemed like the logical person to turn to. "What's the plan, big guy?"

It took a moment before Superman appeared to register the Green Lantern's words, as he was evidently merely staring at the walls. "He's lined the walls with lead and soundproofed a lot of the rooms in the building." Giving up on trying to look and listen through the walls, Clark turned back to the group. "No doubt he's learned how to counter my X-Ray vision and superhearing from my counterpart on this world." He didn't have to tell the others how frustrated that made him.

"I guess we'll have to wait to hear back from our other ace in the hole," said Clark, hoping that he wasn't the only one who had noticed J'onn's absence. He knew that the Martian was a telepath, and hoped that he could hear the mental calls that the Man of Steel was trying to send out. ~J'onn, have you found Bruce? Can you lead us to him?~

 

[trustyside-kick]

Orin and Rodunn battle the Shalakite attackers, with might and valor. But the numbers are vast and increasing by the minute. More and more creatures of the deep, twisted and mutilated to fit the Shalakites' needs swarm the battle. Crafted and commanded by their olde dark magick, Orin's own telepathy over the creatures of the deep seem to have no sway over their actions.

"Are your adventures always this exciting, Orin? YAHHH!"

Rodunn, mightiest of all the warriors of Poseidonis, fights on with courage and excitement Orin has yet seen before from the other Atlanteans. He smiles, taking out his coral blade from its sheath, slicing down one of the Shalakite mages.

"You should've seen me when I slayed the beast Scylla. Once a beautiful water nymph, until the Gods punished her with her hideous transformation. THAT was a sight for sore eyes."

"HA! I hope this is to be the first of many adventures then Orin!"

"Yes, Rodunn. We could--"

That is when something overcomes Orin, and he suddenly stops fighting. The Shalakite mages he was attacked look startled as they were about to deflect is oncoming attack. They look to one another, and then realize what has transpired. The begin to flee the scene, and Rodunn turns to congratulate his new ally on their victory.

"See how they flee before the gathered might of Orin and Rodunn! See how they--"

Rodunn goes silent, as he gazes upon a creature he had only heard of in stories. No, not a creature exactly. A woman. A woman that seems to capture him like no other. He drops his javelin and sword, struck with amazement. Orin however doesn't remain silent and still for the same reason. He is simply willed to do so.

The woman transforms, her beauty fading rapidly and Rodunn's amazement soon shifts into complete fear.

"N-N-Nuliajuk."

Fleeing for his life, Rodunn escapes the scene through the dark waters. Nuliajuk does not chase after him, she simply floats closer to the entranced Orin.

 

[Batman]

The Martian Manhunter shifts through the dark confines of The Devilman's caverns. Alert and aware of potential danger, his mind shifts about for any other captives that the madman could have taken in his reign over Gotham City's innocents. But he could not help but overlook some of the bizarre 'trophies' that the vigilante had placed on display: Playing cards, laced with razored edges. J'onn noticed an inscription below it's glass case. 'Once used by The Clown Prince'. Blood-stained umbrellas with trinkets and gadgets exposed in it's shell, belonging to 'a would-be hero, The Fowl'. Even a leather bullwhip, labelled 'From the Pantherwoman case'.

The twisted parallels to Batman's own infamous enemies on their world were not lost on J'onn. But what intrigued him the most was that each one of the weapons told a tale. A tale of heroism, where villainy would usually be found - all of the weapons had belonged to fighters of freedom, undoubtedly imprisoned or murdered by Devilman to maintain a dominance over Gotham City. Interesting.

~J'onn, have you found Bruce? Can you lead us to him?~

J'onn's exploration of the cave was cut short, as he heard Superman's telepathic message. He was surprised that the Man of Steel had even thought to communicate in such a way - most Earthly beings were lost upon the concept of telepathy. Feeling it no time to dwell on the impression, J'onn reached out to Superman's mind, and easily replied.

~Bruce Wayne has been released from captivity, and will join us soon. For the sake of preserving his identity, I thought it best not to lead the rest of the team here myself. I shall regroup with you now, so we can plan our next phase of attack.~

With that, J'onn cleared his thoughts and rendered himself intangible once more, floating upwards through the cavern's steel-aligned ceiling. I can only hope that Batman can handle the rest. We're running out of time.

"Devil-Mechas. This is your creator speaking. There are an estimated four individuals on the top floor of Wayne Towers. Your mission is to eliminate them. And please, do it slowly."

Devilman sneered, watching the heroes through the feed to the Tower's security cameras. It was almost too ironic to bare. The world's most powerful beings on their planet, without a doubt... but on this world, all they could do was stand around and wait for the inevitable. Laughably immobile, talking amongst, even after having leveled half of the GCPD's forces. Devilman silently wondered to himself what it would be like to wield such power they possessed... forget Gotham, he could rule the world. And no one could stop him.

"I pity your planet, Bruce. I really do.", He began, with a smile. "Protectors of the good are always so dreadfully boring. I can only imagine what your Gotham is like. Meek, uninteresting, populated only by denizens and madmen... a true failure, in every regard, to our parents. What would you have to say for yourself if they were here now?"

The Dark Warrior cackled, typing in a few more commands. "I'll bet you'd have nothing to say. There is no possible excuse for the method you've taken to saving the city. With mine, I've at least been able to show you the results. You've experienced what success looks like. And it looks like my city."

Devilman turned around.

"But, humor me. What would you have to say for yourself?"

And then, he saw it. Deep within the shadows, where Bruce Wayne was supposed to be chained up and humiliated by the constant ridicule, Devilman saw only a voided spot and loosened chains. Gritting his teeth together, he pushed himself away from the console as he sprinted towards the cage. Grabbing it's bars, Devilman peered inside, as ravenous as an animal chasing it's dinner.

"Computer!", He barked back, slamming the cage door shut with angered force. "Find him! Scan the cave! Locate any foreign bodies and unauthorized heat signatures. He couldn't have gotten far."

Treading into the trophy hall, Devilman prepared a shuriken tipped with acid, as he loomed about the shadows. He wasn't sure how Wayne could have gotten out of his binds... they were electrical. A mere touch would have sent a thousand volts streaming through the man's veins. But it didn't matter. In the end, his captive was weak. Unskilled. Undereducated. A pathetic being, if he had ever seen one. Devilman's own words rang through his mind once more, as he thought of the Gotham City that 'Batman' protected.

And it made him laugh.

"Come on out. You're only embarrassing yourself,", He taunted, his throwing arm at the ready. "Look at what happened last time! I beat you with ease. Dragged you here, unconcious, and put you in a cage. A cage, for godsakes. Tell me how many of your enemies could have pulled that one off."

Backing into a glass door, Devilman spun, realizing that he was staring down the costume chamber. Batsuits and Devilsuits, from grand designs to failed concepts, aligned the wall. Devilman immediately noticed that one of them was missing - the last Batsuit he had ever worn, before changing his monkier to something more fitting, more sinister... and more deadly.

"Dressing yourself for battle, I take it? Good.", He mused, crossing into the garage of the cave. "I've been waiting for this moment, actually. The moment where I got to fight the real you. The prepared, intense, and focused vigilante that I used to be. Did you think it was coincidence that I kept you alive? Showed you my plans, let you glimpse inside my world? Absolutely not. I was nurturing you. Giving you a running start, so to speak. The only thing I didn't anticipate was your... earlier release."

Devilman smiled even wider. "But it won't matter, in the longer run of things. I beat you once, and this time, I'll kill you. Then your friends. Then I'll go to your world, and rule that Gotham next. Only then, will I make our parents proud. Only when every Gotham that exists bows their head to me. I'll finally put an end to crime!"

In his rant, Devilman didn't notice the silent predator that had placed himself just behind him. His white lenses peering down on the psychopath before him. It was time to put an end to this. Devilman turned, hearing a rustle of leather - the fabric of a cape rubbing against one of the Devilmobiles. Taking the shuriken, Devilman tossed it at the car, and pressed as button. A loud explosion rocked through the caverns, as the vehicle was tossed into the air in a violent flame.

Devilman watched it, intently. Hoping that he'd see a corpse, or at least a wounded body, of the man he intended to mark a gravestone for tonight.

He didn't.

"God, you're annoying. You know that?", Devilman spat, taking out three more of his 'Devilrangs'. "I spent three million on that car. Your death would have made the payout worth it."

Devilman spun suddenly, throwing the weapons into the dark with a laugh. Three more explosions lit up the cave, awakening the Bats from above as they flew about and hurried to safety. Yet in all the smoke and haze, there was nothing to be found. No scream of agony, nothing. Devilman was beginning to become annoyed.

"I don't...", He started, before looking upwards, coming upon a realization. "Oh, very clever. I remember that one. Taught to me in... Egypt, was it? Yes. The silent stalk. An outdated manouver, hardly worth the effort."

Throwing another Devilrang towards the ceiling, Devilman threw his cape around him in a shielding cloak, as yet another explosion rocked through the cold cavern. But aside from some minor damage to the stalagmites, there was little else to show for it.

Finally, in a fit of rage, Devilman lost it. Taking out several of the weapons, he threw them all out at once, hoping to hit the hiding coward just once before he could make the kill.

He screamed out, his voice becoming desperate. "Show yourself! I command you to show yourself!"

Dropping to his knees, amongst the fire he had created, Devilman outstretched his arms. "Is this what you want?! A fair fight?! Because I'm right here! Come on!"

Silence. It was all that greeted him.

Devilman's lip began quivering, as his rage reached it's boiling point.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

It was in that moment, that three Batarangs came hurling out from the darkness. Devilman was so distracted by his rage that he barely had the time to dodge the first. The second sliced through one of the ridges of his cape. And the third hit him directly in the cowl, knocking him back just enough to cause him to stumble.

"Word of advice."

Devilman turned, his eyes widened as he laid eyes on his enemy, standing as confident and as menacing as ever. As he realized...

"Don't ever call me Bruce."

The battle had begun.

 

[Spike_x1]

"Devil-Mechas. This is your creator speaking. There are an estimated four individuals on the top floor of Wayne Towers. Your mission is to eliminate them. And please, do it slowly."

As the heroes stood together, contemplating their next move, a low rumble began and the walls started to shake. If Lois were here, Clark would try to lighten the mood by asking if Perry had had chilly for lunch that day.

As it was, though, Superman readied his fists. "Be on your guard, people." Suddenly dozens of mechanical arms began tearing through the walls around them. In mere moments, the robotic beasts had fully broken through and revealed themselves. They were all huge mechanized death machines made to resemble some otherworldly demons. On top of the razor-edged blades on what passed for their hands, each of the Devil-Mechas were brandishing missile and laser weaponry, and were setting their sights on the heroes.