The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VI

[Eddie Brock]

BATWOMAN

I am not bothered by the fact that I am unknown. I am bothered when I do not know others.
~Confucius

I sit quietly in my study, papers strewn about my desk. Buried underneath the clutter is an opened copy of Sun Tzu's The Art of War, as well as a Gotham phone book. I scribble away in an old notebook. Glancing up at the clock, I see that it's nearly four in the morning. Maybe that's why I can hardly keep my eyes open. Even so, there's work to be done - work that doesn't involve beating criminals to a pulp.

As I write, throbbing pains run up my arm. I put down the pen and lean back in my chair. I reach over and remove the bag of ice from my shoulder. Wincing, I examine my bruise. Had it not been for the armor, that would've been a damn good shot. Lucky for me, I guess. I rest the bag of ice on my shoulder again as I pick up my notebook.

I spin softly in my chair as I examine the short list I've compiled. If I'm serious about this crusade, I need to take it seriously. So I've stayed up to write down all the information I can find on the cops and robbers in this town. I need to know who I can trust and who I'm going up against. It was Sun Tzu who once said something about 'know your enemy.' It's good advice.

I turn back the page and look at my potential 'allies.' As I run down the names, I stop and sigh. I run my finger gently along one name in particular. I didn't need the phone book for this one. I knew the address and phone number by heart.

RENEE MONTOYA

I could've filled an entire notebook with everything I know about her. In reality, though, none of it matters. Everything that happened is in the past. It's water under the bridge, really. Still, I find a part of myself is unable to let go. After everything, I feel like I need a better sense of...closure...on the matter. I push all my thoughts about her aside. I can't be burdened by something like that this early in my venture.

Putting my notebook down, I rest my head on the back of the chair and close my eyes. It really is late. I shouldn't push any further. I look down at my desk. What a mess. It can wait until morning, though. Right now, I need some much deserved sleep. I brush some papers away and close the phone book. I accomplished a lot tonight.

I drag my feet all the way to the kitchen. My sweatpants extend past my feet, and I nearly trip over them in the hall. The kitchen is dark, and I toss the phone book onto the island counter. Reaching out with my arms to balance, I navigate my way over to the sink and dump out my ice. The bruise actually does feel better. I lean over the sink for a few moments with my eyes closed. That's when I notice a flashing in the far corner of the kitchen.

Opening my eyes, I see that I left the kitchen television on. A newscaster's mouth moves, but no sound comes out. In the upper right corner of the screen, I see the word 'MUTE' in red letters. I locate the remote, and my finger hovers over the power button. The headline on the TV, however, freezes me in my place.

GCN EXCLUSIVE: BATMAN DEAD?

My finger moves from the power button to the mute button. Suddenly, the quiet kitchen is filled with noise. I hold my breath as I listen intently to the report.

"Still no update, but we will bring you further developments as they happen," the newscaster promises. "If you're just joining us, we welcome you. Late last night, GCN received multiple eyewitness reports that the Batman had been killed in Crime Alley." No! "The reports are muddled at best, but it appears that the Joker delivered the killing strokes," the newscaster continues. "However, GCN has received no reports of the Batman - or any masked John Doe's - being admitted to a hospital or a morgue. While it would surprise no one if the Batman has survived, there is no evidence to point in either direction."

I turn off the television and drop the remote. "This can't be," I announce aloud. My mouth has run dry, and all thoughts of going to sleep have dissipated. Batman, the Batman - the man who inspired me to take up this quest, is dead? He can't be! "No, no...no," I mutter denyingly.

Rushing to my bedroom, I don't even bother to turn on the light. I quickly dial in the combination to the lock on the chest sitting at the foot of my bed. The chest swings open, and I reach deep inside. Pushing aside the items contained within the chest, I find a key sitting in a lock at the bottom. I turn the key, and the bookshelf to my right shifts open. I pull the bookshelf towards myself, revealing a hidden closet. Hanging in the closet is my costume.

I grab the pull-string to the overhead lightbulb, and the closet is instantly illuminated. Without removing it from its hangar, I grab the costume and examine it. The cloth-like gray fabric which belies a thin armor underneath. The leathery, black cape. The black and yellow symbol brandished on the chest. It's a fine design, to be sure.

But it's not mine. And with...him...gone, I don't feel right using it. I need a new costume to symbolize my new start. My to-do list for tomorrow has just grown.
​

 

[The Question]

IC: Jimmy Olsen

Like many people, Jimmy Olsen is someone who has not yet entirely recovered from High School. As such, he still retained the skills of wallowing in shock and self pity that he had masterfully honed back in the "best years of his life." He used them sparingly, of course. Photojournalism was not a career for the timid or indecisive. And while he felt the same doubts and fears that anyone would in the situations his job has put him in, he learned, over time, to let them be a guide to his actions, not a hindrance.

But when the time comes to mope, well, it is rather like riding a bike. And, to carry the analogy a bit further, when it comes time to mope, Jimmy proves himself to in fact be the secret identity of Lance Armstrong.

He sat there, his mind racing with images of the people he loves choking to death in the city streets bellow in his own personal Tour de France, oblivious to everything around him asside from his fear and grief, when he was brought back into reality by the sound of someone trying to save his life.

"JIMMY!!!!" the person out in the hall could be heard shouting, in between loud knocks on the door. "JIMMY!!!!"

After taking a moment to process, Jimmy quickly got up and opened the door. He was greeted by the site of a large, muscular man wearing a gas mask and a Superman T-Shirt that was one size too small.

"Hi Bibbo," said Jimmy.

Bo "Bibbo" Bibbowski removed the mask and gave Jimmy a pat on the shoulder that was most likely going to leave a bruise.

"Thank God you're okay, kid!"

"Bibbo, why are you in my apartment?"

"I've been checkin' in on all the bar regulars, see if they're okay."

Having known Bibbo, a man who in the wake of Superman's "death" had declared himself the champion of Suicide Slum and spent the next four months saving kittens from trees and telling kids to stay in school, for almost eight years, this behavior should not have been at all surprising for Jimmy. Jimmy was, none the less, surprised.

"Bibbo, that's insane! People are dying in the streets!"

"Hey, I had a gas mask."

"And why do you have a gas mask?"

"...because of the gas?"

"No," said Jimmy, doing his best to keep up with the onslaught of Bibbo-isms, "why did you have it in the first place?"

"I ended up needing it, didn't I?"

Jimmy thought about this for a second.

"...well...yes," he said, unable to argue with the logic.

"Anyway," said Bibbo, "SCU's out there doing cleanup. They say it's safe to go outside, but I'm keepin' the mask handy just in case. I'm gonna go help 'em out."

"I should come with you," said Jimmy.

"Yeah, we could use the help. And, hell, it's not as bad as it could be. Only a few hundred died. A bunch of security shelters Lexcorp built way back when popped up at the last minute. Saved most of the people outside."

As he heard this, Jimmy's spirits rose like the tide in a hurricane. He had come to refer to receiving such news in times like that as a "reverse-at least things couldn't get any worse" scenario.

"Where were the shelters?" asked Jimmy. He had quite suddenly become very, deadly serious, something most people who know him find very jarring.

"All over the place, kid."

"So there was no pattern to where they were located?"

"I dunno. I think they were closest to where there'd be a lot of people..."

"Like grocery stores?"

"Yeah..."

And then Jimmy was running. Past Bibbo out into the hall, and down the stairs so fast he almost fell down them a few times. Nothing mattered. Not the body count, not the cleanup, not finding the people responsible or rebuilding the city or any of that. For all Jimmy cared in that moment, Metropolis could wither and die and be forgotten forever. The only thing that mattered was getting to the supermarket.

A few minutes later, Jimmy, extremely out of breath, returned to Bibbo in his apartment.

"I *huh*...I don't have a car. Could you give me a ride?"

 

[wiegeabo]

The world is nothing but a white, ringing blur as I try to peel myself off the ground. My brain refuses to process information, feeling as if it had run around the world a few times without taking my body along for the ride.

And just as the world starts to coalesce into some version of normal, jut as my brain starts to work past the confusion of feeling all-powerful rage and utter weakness at the same time, another boom rings out and deafens me again. I collapse back onto the ground in a heap, covering my ears with my hands. The ringing is almost worse than the actual BOOM itself.

But it doesn't take long for my body to quickly move on with the healing process. The ringing stops and, even though I don't open my eyes, the world feels like it's back in balance.

No.

Flash watched on as Superman disappeared with Doomsday/Brainiac, a feeling of dread growing in his gut.

Be safe, Boyscout. Don't need to bury another friend today.

Wally did his best to push his concern away, knowing it will only compound things.

The Flash looks around, trying to locate Jay after his savage assault on the monster.

There you are.

In a flash, Wally is standing alongside Jay Garrick.

"Those were some major moves there, old man", Wally smiles.
"You okay?"

I crack an eye open, half expecting to be blinded by light. But it's dark enough that there's no pain. Still, it takes a moment to focus on Wally. I grab his hand, and he helps me up. There's a twinge in my back that let's me know just how dumb what I did was. I ignore it.

"I tried. But, honestly, I...don't know what came over me. I just...lashed out. I.." That's when it hits me. How quiet it is. How...empty. "He's gone. What happened? Did I...Did I...kill..." the thought chills me to the bone. I quickly try to rationalize what I did...but it's of no comfort. The thought of taking a life, any life, even of that creature...

"What happened Wally?"

 

[Andy C.]

I should be dead.

By all rights, I should have died along with Brainiac and Doomsday, crushed by a force of cosmic nature at its most savage.

Instead, I've been pulled away by a man who make my own power look like child's play.

"How'd you know where to find me, Metron?"

"It was not particularly difficult to deduce. Very few have access to Boom Tube technology, and even fewer would use it in such a manner. Your actions today have saved more lives than you will ever know."

"Still, whenever I've met you before, you've always been more of a spectator. And it's not like this is the first time I've been willing to lay down my life. So what's caused the change of heart?"

"My reasons are two-fold. Firstly, your second return from the grave allowed you small insight into the crisis that is to come--your part in these events is far greater than you may think. Today you helped save a planet. In the days to come, the cosmos themselves will cry for the aid of Superman.

"And secondly, though I wish to observe most events from afar, do not think I am without compassion. You have lost much in your recent battles. I wish for you to regain a little in return."

"Regain what?"

"The knowledge that you are not as alone as you feel. One of your species has all but returned from the afterlife."

Another Kryptonian?

"....Kara?"

"Your answer waits for you at the Source Wall. Just beyond it, a voice calls for you by name, Kal-El. Find it, and you will no longer be the last of your race."

Even after all that I've been through, I manage a little bit of a smile. I can undo some of the damage the Dark Alliance has done. I can bring her back...

"There is also the matter of your wife."

The cold pit I've felt in my gut for months now rushes over me when he mentions her. Prometheus took her from me when this all began. God knows what he's done to her since then.

"She still lives, albeit in the hold of an enemy. He is keeping her hostage in a realm beyond your reach...but not beyond mine."

My fists clench, and I grit my teeth. I'm ready for this.

"I will bring you to the enemy's gates. Take your justice there, but be cautious--you're far too valuable to let yourself get killed yet again."

Everything goes to white for a second.

Hang on, Lois. I'm coming.

"No, who do you think I am? Some petty thug? No, I plan. And what I'm planning is going to be big."

"What?"

"A full-on, no bull**** twilight of the gods."

"That's not going to happen, Prometheus," I say as I appear in the room.

With a quick x-ray scan of the villain and his lair, I find a Kryptonite pistol in his holster. After a half-second's worth of Heat-vision, it's a puddle of slag, burning a hole in the floor.

"Let Lois go. Now."

 

[The Question]

IC: Jimmy Olsen

Jimmy clung to the sides of the passenger seat for dear life, his resolve to "save the day" shaken slightly by the fact that he was allowing Bibbo to drive him somewhere. But luck was on his side that day (with the exception of all the mass murder, of course). There were few other cars on the street, the police had yet to set up blockades for the sake of crowd control in that part of town, and most importantly, the ride was a short one.

The car came to a stop outside of a supermarket near Glenmorgan Square. The shelters around the city had opened up just moments before, with, in true Lexcorp fashion, the recorded voice of President Luthor saying "have a nice day," and now thousands of very confused and frightened people shuffled out into the daylight.

There were only a few dozen in the store's parking lot. Jimmy was able to spot her almost immediately. As usual, the very first thing he noticed was her almost angelic blond hair, and the second was the look of deep aggravation on her face.

Jimmy scrambled out of the car, and pushed his way through the small crowd with a few muttered excuse me's. Lucy had roughly two thirds of a second to react before Jimmy picked her up in a big spinning hug that would put even the sappiest of romantic comedies to shape. After he put her down, she looked at him with an amused look that she often wore when he was around.

"Hey, turtle boy," she said through a smirk.

"Thank god you're okay..."

Lucy pushed Jimmy off of her, the people around them making her feel slightly self conscious.

"Where's Keith?" she asked. "He's not with you. Is he okay?"
"He's with his parents," said Jimmy. "He's fine."

"How'd you know I was here?" she asked.

"Ron told me."

"When did you talk to Ron?"

"Does that really matter right now?"

Lucy stayed silent for a moment, letting her gaze drift towards everything that was happening around them. She took a few steps back and closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to center herself.

"You okay?" Jimmy asked, concerned.

"It's just been...insane. All the panic and people dying and..."

She paused for a moment, looking at Jimmy, and smiled, genuinely.

"I'm really glad you're okay, turtle boy."

"Yeah, well, wasn't too hard. All I did was stay inside and...oh, wait. Look."

Jimmy pointed to the green Subaru Outback pulling up behind them, with Ron Troup behind the wheel.

"LUCY!" he called from the driver's seat.

He got of the car as she ran towards him. They embraced, husband and wife, in a way that could be described as picturesque. Like a storybook romance.

Jimmy watched on for a moment, feeling himself slowly becoming the third wheel.

"Well, I'll be going..." he muttered to himself.

He walked back to Bibbo, who was leaning against his truck, watching.

"I'm glad she's okay, kid" he said to Jimmy. "With Lois gone, she's the only Lane we've got around to yell at everyone."

Lois, Jimmy thought to himself.

"****" he said. "Bibbo, we need to find Clark. This is not the kind of situation a man with a missing wife should be going through. I mean, what if he..."

"Ran off into the gas? Kid, you know Kent's smarter than that."

"Yeah. I'm just really worried about him. Everyone has been."

"Right now, we should be more worried 'bout cleaning up."

"Yeah..."

Jimmy leaned back against the truck next to Bibbo, letting his eyes drift upward to the sky.

"You know what everyone's thinking right now, Bibbo?"

"What?"

"'Where's Superman?'"

Bibbo smiled.

"Poundin' the **** out of whoever's responsible would be my guess."

Jimmy glanced out onto the street. He could see the police loading some bodies onto an ambulance.

"Amen to that..."

 

[Watchman]

"That's not going to happen, Prometheus," I say as I appear in the room.
With a quick x-ray scan of the villain and his lair, I find a Kryptonite pistol in his holster. After a half-second's worth of Heat-vision, it's a puddle of slag, burning a hole in the floor.

"Let Lois go. Now."

Prometheus first motion was to grab Lois. A sharp blade came out his arm. He held the blade up to her throat and a small drop of blood hit the floor.

"No sudden movements, Superman or do you prefer Clark? If your here right now then that means that Brainiac failed to do his job and I'm the last one left. Well, if you want anything done right...." He stomps on the floor causing compartments to open up along the floor and ceiling. Guns sproated and begun to fire upon Superman.

"Come on, babe, I have a way to get to a timeline with a Nazi Superman. Should be fun." He dragged her into the other room leaving Superman and the guns.

 

[Andy C.]

Prometheus first motion was to grab Lois. A sharp blade came out his arm. He held the blade up to her throat and a small drop of blood hit the floor.

"No sudden movements, Superman or do you prefer Clark? If your here right now then that means that Brainiac failed to do his job and I'm the last one left. Well, if you want anything done right...." He stomps on the floor causing compartments to open up along the floor and ceiling. Guns sproated and begun to fire upon Superman.

"Come on, babe, I have a way to get to a timeline with a Nazi Superman. Should be fun." He dragged her into the other room leaving Superman and the guns.

A villain holding the love of my life at knife-point.

A room full of booby-traps slowing me down while he makes his escape.

I'm halfway expecting an evil twin to pop up out of a trap-door, but last I'd heard Bizarro had turned good now.

The turrets open fire on me--broad-spectrum laser beams, likely reverse-engineered from Thanagarian tech. They definitely sting, but Prometheus is going to have to do a lot better than that if he thinks he's going to get away.

I grab the nearest one by the barrel, yanking it out of the floor as the structure screeches and groans, then hurl it as hard as I can into another. It not only smashes the other turret, but punches straight through the entire building.

The others I incinerate with my Heat-vision; this is no time to get flashy.

I plow into the next room, and before Prometheus is even halfway through a blink, I rush him and swat the knife out of his hand--breaking a finger or two in the process.

"I've been known to keep up with the Flash from time to time, Prometheus. Did you really think you could do anything to her before I got to you?"

Lois breaks free of the villain's grip, and runs to my side.

"About time you got here, Smallville. This creep's been getting on my last nerve."

For the first time in a long time, I give her a genuine smile. After all the pointless carnage and loss, it's all been worth it to see her face again.

Of course, there's still the matter of the supervillain in the room. I turn my attention back to Prometheus and get back to business.

"I've had a very long past couple of months. Thanks to you, my wife's been missing, being caged up here. Thanks to the rest of the Dark Alliance, there are going to be an awful lot of people who won't get to see their wives or husbands or friends again.

"After all you and your friends have done, my patience is precisely zero. You might want to think about that before you try something stupid."

 

[Watchman]

"You think this is over!" He screams. He staggers up, ignoring the pain. "We showed you we can hit you hard without knowing who you are. Now, I know. I am Prometheus and I will deliever the fire from the gods!" He grabs a very large laser rifle from the ground.

"I will come after your love ones. I will get to Perry, Jimmy, Ma, and Pa. I will come after those that the Batman can no longer protect." He flips a few switchs on the gun which glows red.

"First, I'll start with your wife, Clark." The gun whines but doesn't fire. The gun begins to shake. "Oh no." The gun rips apart creating a multicolor expolsion. Prometheus is thrown backwards and through the wall. He is holding on to a part of his house dangling over the edge and above the void. He only had a few seconds. He knew what was going to happen. Superman would fly in a pick him up placing him into some prison. No. He let go.

"Goodbye, Clark and Lois. We'll meet again when you least expect it." Prometheus disappears into the Zone

 

[Andy C.]

"You think this is over!" He screams. He staggers up, ignoring the pain. "We showed you we can hit you hard without knowing who you are. Now, I know. I am Prometheus and I will deliever the fire from the gods!" He grabs a very large laser rifle from the ground.

"I will come after your love ones. I will get to Perry, Jimmy, Ma, and Pa. I will come after those that the Batman can no longer protect." He flips a few switchs on the gun which glows red.

"First, I'll start with your wife, Clark." The gun whines but doesn't fire. The gun begins to shake. "Oh no." The gun rips apart creating a multicolor expolsion. Prometheus is thrown backwards and through the wall. He is holding on to a part of his house dangling over the edge and above the void. He only had a few seconds. He knew what was going to happen. Superman would fly in a pick him up placing him into some prison. No. He let go.

"Goodbye, Clark and Lois. We'll meet again when you least expect it." Prometheus disappears into the Zone

I go to dive after him, but by the time I reach the ledge, he's already beyond the reach of my senses. Whatever this place is, Prometheus can have it.

"Clark?" Lois says, coming up behind me and hooking her arm around mine. I can't quite break my gaze from the abyss.

"That's the fourth villain I've watched fall into oblivion since this started."

"He'll be back. Prometheus kept bragging about this dimensional Key thing that--"

She turns to gesture, and we both see that the Key is still there on the table.

"---oh. Well, at least we know our ticket home."

"And I guess I can always come back later to bring him to a real prison."

"There you go. So, what about the rest of this stuff?"

Hidden and/or just scattered around Prometheus' house are all sorts of secret weapons, schematics, computer databanks...and the stack of discs that the "Anti-Batman" uses to store his extra memory. Whatever Prometheus is planning, it must have been big.

"I'm going to take the discs to the Fortress to find out what exactly Prometheus stole from the JLA computers--our secrets identities would be top among them. The rest of it is a little too dangerous to just leave here in case Prometheus comes back--or someone else discovers it. I'll bring some Leaguers back here to clear it out."

I activate the Key, and in the blink of an eye, we're back on Earth, up in the sky.

"But first, I've been meaning to do this for a while now..."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"What happened Wally?"

"Superman happened", the Flash replied as he stared at the spot where Clark and the monster had vanished.

"He...just grabbed him and flew him into a boom tube. God knows where he took him, but I hope he's all right."

Wally looked around the area, taking in all of the destruction.
The original Dark Alliance had put them through the ringer, but this new incarnation seemed to take things a step further. Thousands had died, including friends and family of the cape and cowl. Entire cities were devastated, and millions more would never look at their heroes in the same way again.
Though, in the end, they emerged victorious, Wally still felt as if they lost the war.

Wally released a heavy sigh of exhasperation.
"Is it all worth it, Jay? Despite all the good we do, it seems people still suffer just as badly, if not worse, because of us."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

The light of the setting sun set the sky ablaze in an orangish glow. The wind picked up again, and McCulloch tightened his jacket around him to fend off the chill. He had been waiting on the rooftop for at least an hour now, and he was beginning to get sick of it.

If he ain't here by th' time I finish my smoke, I'm outta here.

He took a long drag of his cigarette as he looked up to the sky to see a man in a green suit descend and touch down in front of him.

"Took ya long enough. Been up here waitin' on ye for over a ****in' hour."

"Aw, poor baby. Is him catching a cold?"

"**** you, Mardon", replied the Mirror Master with a chuckle.

"So, how was th' sandbox? Ya have fun playin' 'round with Adam?"

"Let's just say it's good to be back home. How's things been holding up?"

"Eh, last few weeks have been good. With Flasher away with his boys fightin' that new Alliance, we've had Keystone bent over like the town ****e."

"Made a nice killin' if I do say so", smiled McCulloch arrogantly as he flicked the cigarette butt off of the roof.

"Had ta lay low th' past few days though."

"Flash come back already?"

"Naw, got ourselves a new thorn in the proverbial paw. Zoom."

"Zoom? He trying to drag the Rogues into his fight with Flash?"

"Ha! Wish it was that easy", McCulloch sighed.
"The bugger up and changed sides. Bastards been fightin' crime in the Flash's stead."

"You're kidding me?"

"Wish I was. But it seems ol' Mr. Zolomon's on the side of angels now."

The Weather Wizard stood silently for a few seconds as he took it all in.

"What about Sam", Mardon asked with a bit of concern.

"He's seen better days, but he's healed up, least physically. Far as his mind goes..."

"Yeah, coming back from the dead takes a lot out of you."

"Awright, enough o' this chatter. Let's get the hell off'a this roof and back to the hideout where it's warm."

Mardon laughed a bit at McCulloch's misfortune.
"The Scotsman can't take a little wind chill? Fine, let's go, Evana. Don't want you to get frostbite now."

"**** off, Mardon", frowned McCulloch as both he and the laughing Weather Wizard calmly disappeared into the rooftop's lone skylight.

 

[wiegeabo]

"What happened Wally?"

"Superman happened", the Flash replied as he stared at the spot where Clark and the monster had vanished.

"He...just grabbed him and flew him into a boom tube. God knows where he took him, but I hope he's all right."

Wally looked around the area, taking in all of the destruction.
The original Dark Alliance had put them through the ringer, but this new incarnation seemed to take things a step further. Thousands had died, including friends and family of the cape and cowl. Entire cities were devastated, and millions more would never look at their heroes in the same way again.
Though, in the end, they emerged victorious, Wally still felt as if they lost the war.

Wally released a heavy sigh of exhasperation.
"Is it all worth it, Jay? Despite all the good we do, it seems people still suffer just as badly, if not worse, because of us."

I've been asked that question quite often in my life. But for the first time...I don't know what to say. For the first time, I don't know what the answer is. What can I tell Wally? Is it really still worth it? With all we've lost, do I still believe it. Maybe...just maybe it isn't worth it after all. Maybe we've gone about this all wrong. And maybe...I don't believe it anymore.

I look Wally in the eyes, and I can see the doubt there. And the thoughts of his family. The fear if anything happened to him, or them. I force a smile and pat him on the shoulder. "Yes, Wally. It's always worth it."

Really...what else could I say?

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Wally smiled as he looked at Jay. He'd been in the game twice as long as Wally. He was the mentor to practically all the younger heroes, but to the Flashes most of all.
To Wally, Jay Garrick was like a father. Sometimes more than Uncle Barry was. When times were hard, he was always there to help out. Whether it be by word or deed, Wally could always count on Jay Garrick. The original Scarlet Speedster.

"Thanks, Jay."

"So what now? This place is going to need some serious cleaning. God knows I'd love nothing but to get back to Linda and the kids, but I think I'll be sticking around a bit to help out."

 

[Saved]

Wow. Bet you wish she broke your neck now.
Shut up.
Oh don't get pissy with me just cos the girl blew you off.
If you don't shut the hell up, right now, I'm going to a shrink.
Okay jeez, no need to threaten a guy.

He briefly considered running after her, telling her that it was what he wanted. But it wouldn'tve been right. Emotional displacement. Losing one person, and latching onto another. It would be wrong to found anything on that.

Anything like what? You want to start seeing this girl? Cos of one little kiss? Are you a ******? That's a serious question.
We all have to make sacrifices.
What?! No you don't!
She doesn't want to be part of a vulnerable feeling. I'm vulnerable right now.
And so what?
And nothing good would come of it.
So you just have to stop being vulnerable then.
Yeup.
Any idea how you're going to do that?
Nope.
Remember Bruce? When he was vulnerable? What would he do.
Lock himself away from the world.
Isn't he what you want to be?

He sighed and turned, reaching into his utility belt and pulled out a small black button, which he pressed. He returned it to its rightful place, and brought his cape around his front. A few seconds later, the batmobile appeared out of no where driven by an autopilot. He jumped in the car and stopped for a second. If he were Bruce Wayne, he'd drive away right now.

But what was Bruce in the end? A sad, lonely old man. Because he locked himself away from the world. I don't want to be Bruce.
And finally, he understands.

He drove up the street slowly, and stopped when he came next to Rose. He lowered the top of the batmobile.

"I think we should go back to the battle. I can't hear any more fighting," he said, not looking directly at her "Would you like a lift?"

Rose stares at Tim as he looks off, not staring at her. She turns her head and watches the bodies running through the streets. She knows the crime is still out there, and someone has to stop it.

"Move over." She says, leaping into the air. She lands on the seat next to Tim, and takes a seat. As the top of the batmobile closes, the interior quickly becomes dark. Instantly, small lights pop on inside, lightly illmunating the inside.

"Come on, Tim." She says in a determined voice. "Gotham's waiting."

 

[Catman_prb]

Rose stares at Tim as he looks off, not staring at her. She turns her head and watches the bodies running through the streets. She knows the crime is still out there, and someone has to stop it.

"Move over." She says, leaping into the air. She lands on the seat next to Tim, and takes a seat. As the top of the batmobile closes, the interior quickly becomes dark. Instantly, small lights pop on inside, lightly illmunating the inside.

"Come on, Tim." She says in a determined voice. "Gotham's waiting."

The batmobile whistled through the streets, houses passing past the windscreen in a blur as the pair made their way towards the battle site. They were lit up with a red light from the circuitry inside the car, burning at his eyes slightly. He swerved past the rubble and broken masonry heading towards the slight opening that signalled where Doomsday had stood barely ten minutes before. As they converged on the group of heroes, he braked hard and moved the top off. He leapt out, and moved over to Connor and Zach.

"So it's over," he muttered, halfway between a question and a statement.

 

[Eddie Brock]

BATWOMAN

The cool, crisp air of another Gotham night belies a more sinister undertone. For this night, as with all Gotham nights, carries with it a possibility for malice. When the sun sets on Gotham City, the wicked and cruel take over. Innocence has no place in Gotham City - especially not at night. And everyone - regardless of race, creed, sex, or age - is a potential target for the sadistic, the cold-hearted. Even something as innocent as an emptying movie theater can become twisted and demoralized.

"I'll hail a cab," the woman offers as she steps to the edge of the street. The clonking of her heels stands out among the white noise of the assembled crowd. People laugh and converse about the movie - seemingly unaware of the impending danger of this night.

The man reaches out and takes her hand, leading her away from the street. His jet-black hair is slicked back, giving him a more 'polished' look. It was a simple hairstyle choice, made moments after stepping out of the shower. Nothing in Gotham is simple. In the rotten city, even a hairstyle can betray. "Nonsense," he insists to his wife. "We'll walk."

"Walk?" the woman repeats, as if the concept is foreign to her. She looks at her husband, then down at her son. The boy is too busy twiddling his thumbs to pay any attention.

The man laughs and smiles. His carefree attitude is about to lead him directly into danger. Only then will he learn the true meaning of caution. "Sure!" he replies enthusiastically. He takes a deep breath and explains, "It's a beautiful night. Let's not waste it."

The woman eyes her husband wearily. Her conscience screams out for refusal, but this is the man she married. Why should she not trust him? After all, perhaps she's simply being paranoid. She's lived in the city for years. How was she to know that tonight would be the one night where things took a turn for the worse? "Okay," she relents defeatedly. She looks up at the street ahead anxiously. "It's only a few blocks, anyway," she remarks, more to herself than anyone else.

The man's smile grows as he takes his wife's hand. "Exactly."

After a few minutes of walking, the dull roar of the crowd outside the theater begins to dim. The man and woman discuss the movie while their son hums an upbeat tune. They reach a corner and turn down the deserted street - a place no right-minded citizen would go at this hour. But the couple is too engrossed in their conversation to notice the ominous silence, and the boy is too young to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

He hears the humming first. Rising from his resting place behind a dumpster, he stands up to investigate. Keeping to the shadows, he quietly watches his prey. The woman wears fancy heels, and the man is dressed sharply. These observations leave the impression of moderate wealth - more than he could ever say for himself, anyway. These were the telltale signs of a fresh target, ripe for the picking. His pace increases with excited fervor now, as he closes the distance between himself and the family.

"Give me all your money now!" the mugger demands insistently, angrily. He draws his handgun and points it carelessly. He worries not about his volume. At this hour, the city sleeps. And even those who are awake are too detached to care for their neighbors. Kitty Genovese learned that lesson a long time ago. It's the simple principle under which the criminal element - like this mugger - operates comfortably. In a city as lost as Gotham, good Samaritans simply didn't exist. "NOW!" he shouts, wishing to make his point painstakingly clear.

The woman cowers over her son as the man throws up his hands. Clearing his throat, the man responds, "We don't want any trouble." His bravado is laced with cowardice and fear. He understands that it is his responsibility to protect his family, but he does not know how to do so at gunpoint.

"Well, you found it," the mugger snarls, extending his free hand impatiently. The gun rattles as his hand shakes.

"Really, we don't have much!" the man insists as he reaches slowly for his wallet. The mugger's feverish eyes stare at the man's hand cautiously. If the mugger suspected foul play, he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. He had done it before, and he was prepared to do it again. Too often had he taken mace to the eyes.

The mugger relaxes when he sees a wallet. "Hand it over!" he barks. As the man slowly extends his arm, the mugger looks around. This had taken too long, and it was occurring in the exposed street. In the off-chance that someone felt like being heroic...

"Here," the man croaks, holding his wallet like it's going to explode. He closes his eyes and looks away from the mugger. He hopes that the gesture will encourage the mugger to take the wallet and leave. However, he underestimates the jittery logic of a criminal. His next sharp intake of air is almost his last.

They've seen too much! the mugger muses fearfully. He quickly snatches the wallet from the man's hand and examines his prey. They can identify my face! He aims the gun at the boy.

The woman sees the madness in his eyes. She sees the metal barrel aimed at her son. And it all causes her to release a high-pitched gasp. The sudden noise agitates the mugger, and he swings his gun around to point it at her. His finger twitches on the trigger...

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHP!

The sharp whistle of metal through the air is accompanied by the sudden, juicy spurt of fresh blood and the dull clamor of the mugger's handgun hitting the ground. The mugger bites down hard as he suppresses a childlike squeal. He cradles his hand - examining the fresh, bloody slice along his fingers. Moments after registering what has happened, a sturdy boot smashes against the side of his face.

The attacks come quickly, masked by the flapping sound of a leather cape. Crawling on the ground, the mugger receives a sharp kick to the nose. His head jerks back as the blood flies. Blinded by pain, he doesn't see his attacker. He simply feels someone grab his scalp and lift him up, toes still dragging on the ground. Out of nowhere, a sharp cross to the chin nearly knocks him out. He is thrust backwards, slamming into a light-post. The next thing he feels is someone tying his hands together behind the post.

A small object is dropped onto his lap as he can feel his attacker's breath on his neck. "Something to remember me by." Moments later, the mugger regains enough clarity to open his eyes. Sitting in his lap is a flat, metallic bat. Looking around, he is unable to locate his attacker. He groans in pain as he spits out a tooth.

***

In the midst of all the excitement, the family fled. Good. Nobody should ever have to go through such a traumatizing experience. Especially not a child. I'm just glad that boy will be able to grow up into a home with two loving parents. At times, it's more than I think I can say for myself. I don't even want to think about my parents right now. They truly perplex me anymore.

Sighing, I look up at the full moon looming over Gotham. I've done a good thing, but it's only a start. The night is still young. There are many hours before the reluctant sun rises over this city again. And until that time comes, it's up to me to keep Gotham safe - as daunting a task as that is. I wonder if he would think I'm worthy. I wonder if he were still around, and I could ask him, what would he have to say for my new 'hobby?'

Would he approve? I guess I can never know. It's a shame. The man is my inspiration, and he's gone. I suppose we all live to see the end of our idols. It's the cruelty of time that those who came before us shall one day be gone. And that is why we are so important. Because as frightening as the thought is, without us, no one would carry on the legacy.

I don't consider myself 'special' or worthy to take his place. By no means. But without a silent guardian, Gotham would descend into chaos. It's important to remind criminals that just because he's gone...doesn't mean they're done living in the shadow of the Bat.

I still miss him, though.
​

 

[Saved]

The batmobile whistled through the streets, houses passing past the windscreen in a blur as the pair made their way towards the battle site. They were lit up with a red light from the circuitry inside the car, burning at his eyes slightly. He swerved past the rubble and broken masonry heading towards the slight opening that signalled where Doomsday had stood barely ten minutes before. As they converged on the group of heroes, he braked hard and moved the top off. He leapt out, and moved over to Connor and Zach.

"So it's over," he muttered, halfway between a question and a statement.

Rose looks around at the wreckage of the city around them. The cracked and broken buildings, the torn and crumbled roads, and the remnants of the streets covered in debris and blood.

"Uh, Robin," she says in a sarcastic tone. "Look around. I think it's self explanitory." Conner looked at Rose with a untrusting expression. Despite all that has happened, Rose's alliegances are still questionable, and many still find it best to be on their toes.

"You should have seen it happen." He says blankly. He looks to Tim's arm and sees blood dripping down his arm. Around the wound is a strange gauze. "Hey, Tim," he says pointing at the injury. "What happened?"

"Oh, it's nothing." He says, blowing it off. "Compared to this...it's...it's nothing at all."

"Alright, guys." Rose says, breaking the emotional tension of the titans. A wind blows by and throws her hair up into the air. She brushes it out of her face, and begins to walk forward, away from the group. "This has been fun, but it's time I left. I did what I said I'd do. Help. But I still have my own agenda. And I swear," Rose balls her hands into fists, her fingers gripping her palms violently as she fills with aggression. "I will find Slade. And he will suffer at my hands."

 

[Green Lantern]

"Oracle, I need to get to wherever Grayson is, and as soon as you can."

"You guys should keep 'till morning. That's when they pick up the garbage."

Even though my heart is still heavy and Bruce's death still fresh in my mind, I can't help but smile. It's been awhile since I've been in Gotham, and I truly miss it.


​

The JLA teleporter put Roy on the street near Nightwing, and the archer watched as his best friend took out his aggressions the good ol' American way.

"Hey short pants! I'd ask if you need some help, but I think it'd be more fair if I took the creepos sides."


Roy ran up to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder.

"How ya doin' man?"

 

[Blacklight]

Blue Beetle Begins pt.XII​

We ran down the long corridor until we saw a big steel door at the end, and Mr. Kord looked at me.
"Are you ready, Jaime? This is it. This is the endgame."

I took a deep breath, and loked at the door. The Calculator's inside, and lord knows what will happen. But I'm ready for it...

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Using my suit's strength, I easily pryed the door wide open and pulled it off it's steel hinges. then I looked to see what looked like some kind of freaky, dimly-lit laboratory that was almost completely pitch black. In fact, the only things visible was a table in the center of the room with a glowing computer screen, and a man with crazy hair sitting in the chair adjacent to it.

​

"Figures. I knew those poor excuses for 'villains' wouldn't get the job done."

Mr. Kord rushed in front of me and pointed his finger at his face.

"Dammit, Kuttler! Enough games! What are you up to!?"

The Calculator started to chuckle and to be honest, it made me a little uneasy.

"Oh, Beetle. Do you even know the amount of power that... juvenile delinquent... has on his back?"

Juvenile delinquent? Who's he calling a juvenile delinquent!?! I can't wait to punch this guy's face in.

"Here. Let me tell you two a little story..."

"See...Once upon a time, a long, long time ago... there was an ancient alien race that raided planets and forcibly acquired them through violence and war. That was, until the Guardians of the Universe defeated them and forced them into a truce. That race was know as 'the Reach', and since their defeat, they changed their ways and abandoned their violent and greedy nature, and decided to help budding cultures and civilizations to thrive by giving each planet's champion a piece of immensely powerful technology called 'the Infiltrator'. Of which, when bonded to it's host, would give the wearer insanely powerful abilities, and the vast knowledge of the entire universe through the Reach's database. Knowledge that if I were to possess, I'd be unstoppable!"

The Reach? Infiltrator? Is that what the scarab is really called? Is it really a tool for justice, or is there more to the story than the Calculator's letting on?

"It doesn't matter one way or the other how powerful the scarab is. Because you'll NEVER get your hands on it. Over my dead body..."

"Oh I plan on that, but first..."

I looked at the Calculator as he pulled out a small remote and pressed a button on it.

ZZZTTZZZZZTT!!!

"AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!"

Jolts of pain surged through my suit, and my body, like someone stuck one end of a telephone line into my spine.

~Scarab! Help!~

--!!!!!0001010101000101110101010100101..........--

Then I could feel my suit as it was peeling off to escape the pain, and I tried to keep it on as best I could.

"AGHHH!!! HELP MEEE!!!"

"What are you doing to him!?!"

"You didn't think I wouldn't be prepared without a special Electromagnetic Field Intensifier to painfully scramble the Infiltrator's systems, did you?"

"LET HIM GO!!!" Mr. Kord screamed as he jumped at the Calculator and started to grab at the remote, punching him in the meantime.

The pain was insurmountable. It felt like I dying a thousand deaths at the same time. I was helpless. The scarab was too busy being fried to help. I couldn't fight back.

I noticed as the Calculator managed to get free of Mr. Kord's stranglehold and pull out a gun fast enough to aim it at his head. I tried concentrating long enough to focus on what was happening, but the pain was unbearable.

"Hahaha! Pretty soon, the electromagnetic energy within the field will fry the boy from the inside out, and the scarab will be mine for the taking. No more will people laugh at me or mock me for what I used to be. I'll be all powerful!!"

Then I managed to hear the gun clink as he prepared to pull the trigger.

"Goodbye, Blue Beetle."

"NO!!"

Just then, somehow, I managed to summon enough willpower to shoot an energy blast from my palm and at the gun and watched as it knocked the gun out of his hand. He screamed in pain as the blast burned his hand.

"AAHHH!! You punk!"

Then Mr. Kord yelled out as he tackled the Calculator to the ground and took the remote from his hand, Then he stood up and smiled at the Calculator as he threw it to the floor and smashed under his boot.

"NOOO!!!!"

Then the pain stopped, and my armor recovered my body.

~Scarab? You okay?~

--...........Reboot initiated. kjlyfbdsndslflfjfjjfhgfhuisfh!--

~I'll take that familiar gibberish as a 'yes'~

Then I stood up and limped next to Mr. Kord and looked down at a defeated Calculator lying on his back.

"It's over, Noah. You've lost."

"NO!! I can't! I was so close!"

"Give it up, Calculator. You'll never beat me."

"Yes I will! If I can't have the scarab, then no one can!"

Calculator then quickly put his hands in his pocket and pulled out two devices, and pressed on one.


"SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE: ACTIVATED."

"T-MINUS 3 MINUTES..."


Oh crap...

 

[Saved]

Two Face​

I stare at my hand intently. We both do. Each of us has something to gain, something to lose. I feel the cold steel a top my one hand and below on the palm of my other. "The verdict," I start, my palms slightly sweating. What is our fate? Good or evil? What has fate decided for us this time?

Slowly, I pull my hand off of the other, revealing the coin's face. As I stare at the piece, I suddenly become overtaken by surprise. I would have never guessed this. Never.

"Clean," I say in awe, still unsure of what I've seen. "It's clean."

"Too bad," my evil half says. "We could've had a lot of fun without Batman." My other half is relaxed, calm and collected. He grins as he folds his arms, staring at me; I see his figure reflected through a piece of broken glass on the ground. "Doesn't matter," he says with a twisted smile. "There's always next time."

I rise from the ground, coming to a solid stance. I let out a deep breath, and collect my thoughts. Gotham is alone now. Open, and exposed. Without her guardian, she is helpless. A lamb to the slaughter. Without her dark knight, she is at her weakest. But, fate, always knowing what is fair and balanced, has chosen me. Us. We are to be Gotham's protecter amidst this turmoil.

"So, you think you know what you're doing, Dent?" My other half asks.

"Of course," I say surely, flipping the coin into the air. "I'm not new to this. I've cleaned up Gotham before." I catch the coin in mid flip, gripping it tightly in my palm with excitement.

"Yeah, but last time...you were a sane man." He replies with cold truth. I was a hero then. A true protector. But now, I've become what I swore to destroy. Ironic. Especially now that it has been decided for me to go back to that life.

"Sanity is relative." I say with a smirk. "Look at the Batman. Does he look sane?"

"You pose a good point, Harvey. A billionaire playboy moonlighting as a man dressed in a bat suit, is clearly, not the mark of a mentally stable man."

"Or his company." I say, walking proudly to the windows. "He runs with teenagers who share his cause. Young boys who think they can do their part by putting themselves honorably into the line of fire." I shake my head, putting on a show for myself. "Clearly, sanity does not a hero make."

"Yes, Harvey. You're right." I close my eyes with a wide smile, proud of my arguement. "But what about Gordon?" Suddenly my head snaps back, and my eyes open wide to hear his rebuttle. "A man who fights for truth and justice everyday, without powers, gadgets, or luxuries. He's suffered so much throughout his quest, and yet, he still retains his metal health."

Damn. He's right. Good old Jim Gordon. Gotham's finest police man, without a doubt. Through thick and thin, trial and demise, he has been through it all. He's had the worst things happen to him, and yet, he hasn't been to Arkham once.

"Well," I say, my confidence returning as I form my arguement. "There are always...two sides to every story."

"Touche, Harvey. Touche." My other half nods in agreement. I made my case, I proved my position. See, just like the old days. Prosecution. Always has been my strong suit.

"Gotham is in a dire time, my friend. Luckily, she'll have some help."

"But the public won't embrace you." He says to me, showing me a potential flaw. "They barely embraced the Bat, and now you, a known felon, hope to save these people? What makes you think they'll trust you."

"I don't need their trust." I say in a cold and serious voice. "I need their respect."

"And you think you can earn that?" He asks. I turn to him and simply smile, changing my attitude to a more uplifting one.

"Of course."

"What about Gordon? He won't trust you either. And without his support, the police will be on your tail too." I look down at the ground below, watching the vacant street closely as he continues his point. "So your plan is to do this noble venture, while somehow evading the police, the mob, the other heroes, and every lunatic that walks these filthy streets? How are we going to stay alive, Harvey? I'm good. But I'm not this good."

"Gordon will see." I say simply. "We were allies once. It's not so crazy to think that one day, maybe, he'll be back on my side."

"We'll see, Harvey. Faith was always your downfall. Faith in people. Faith in Gotham." He frowns, pointing to his disfigured facade. "Faith in yourself."

"We'll make it." I say to him. "We'll make it."

"Well, I'm sure running all the crime in Gotham will make the police trust you, right? I mean, clearly you are a "hero". What mob/crime lord isn't, right?"

"That's leverage." I snap, a grimace forming on my face. "If I control the problem, I can fix it. Change it. Control is everything! I can't loose control!"

"Well, you're loosing it right now." He says with a haughtly smirk. "Your temper. Another of your flaws." I quickly calm myself. I put my hand to my tie and adjust it, gaining my sense of civility back.

"All good men are flawed, friend. Flaws can make you better than you've ever realized."

"Alright, Harv, I'm with you." Surprised, I turn back to him, staring into his bloodshot eyes and seeing a sense of honesty within him. Myself. "We're in it together. The two of us, as always. You seem like you've got things plotted out. That's important."

"As always." I smile to him.

"But don't think we're going soft. The Batman was a great hero, but he always had one flaw. One rule he could never break." He smiles widely, his burned and scarred lips curling up to reveal a heinous smile. "We can break that rule. We can make the difference he couldn't." I stare at him, my confidence and pride strong within myself. I know what I'm doing, and I know it.

"Well you didn't think the plan was going to be something...gentle, did you?" I ask him in a malicious grin. "The criminals will be tried to the full extent of the law we follow. The court of chance. I don't decide their fate. I just do whatever the judge decides."

"Excellent. There will be change, Dent. I can see it now."

"I believe in Gotham." I say with pride.

"I believe in Harvey Dent."

He smirks at me in his scary and sadistic grin. Proudly, he claps at me, his motions sincere and strange. We're together in this. Both of us, working toward the same goal, as always. But this time it's different. This time we're going to fix instead of break. Build instead of destroy. This city needs change.

I'm going to be that change. I'm Harvey Dent. I'm Two Face. I'm the new knight. The new protector. There will be order in this city. I swear it.​

 

[Blacklight]

Blue Beetle Begins, pt. XIII​

Oh crap...

"Hurry, Jaime! We gotta go!"

We both rushed to the door that we came in, but a new door quickly slammed down in it's place, trapping us all inside.

"Dammit!"

"Hahahaha! Good luck trying to get out of this one, Beetle!"

"What are we gonna do now?"

"Just give me a sec. I'll get us out of this."

I started to panic, but our saving grace was when my scarab started beeping in my head and zoomed in on the second device in Kuttler's hand, giving me one little tidbit of information about it that might've just saved our lives.

"Mr. Kord, wait! That device in his hand is a teleporter!"

Mr. Kord then quickly pulled out his cool gun and launched an air blast at Calculator, knocking back into the wall and out cold.

I gotta say, that air gun never gets old.

We both then rushed over and Mr. Kord managed to pluck the handheld teleporter from his hand.

"Alright. Let's get out of here."

And just as Mr. Kord was about to press the button, the Calculator started to do that creepy chuckle again.

"Good luck... with that..." The Calculator wheezed under his breath

"What is that supposed to mean, Kuttler?"

"The inventor...that designed that teleporter made it so that it's only powerful enough to teleport one person....Not two..."

Oh my god...

"You said I couldn't beat you....but look who just won..."

Mr. Kord and I paused for a long moment, just staring at each other in shock. We were at a loss for words... Is he bluffing? Or is he really telling the truth? But then it hit us. The sad truth was...

We were going to die...

But this couldn't be it! We could find a way to get around this. I mean... he's the Blue Beetle! He just said he'd get us out of this. He's faced dilemmas like this numerous times! He has a plan. He must have a plan. He does have a plan...right?

~Scarab. Is there anything you could do to get us out of this?! Anything! Please!~

--usyrgzfyfgxbvlkdkxvvnv.....No matches found...--

So this is it then? This is how we're going to go out? At the hands of a overgrown nerd with creepy glasses and a superiority complex? If it is, then Brenda was wrong. This scarab wasn't a blessing. It was a curse. A mark for death. My death. Because of it, now not only am I going to die, but my mentor along with me.

There was no way of getting out of this. We were going to die. Plain and simple. We had no chance. Never did. So all I did was stand there, and awaited the inevitable.


But then to my surprise, Mr. Kord grabbed my hand and put the device in it.

"Go..."

"What!? No! You can't! There has to be some other wa--"

"No there isn't. This is the only way..."

"But...but Mr. Kord...."

"Listen to me, Jaime. When I said you were destined to do this, I meant it. In less than a day you managed to show me that you have the bravery, courage, intelligence, sense of justice and the guts to do this. Not only that, but do this better than I ever could. You've shown me that you're more than capable to take my mantle, and I can't think of a more perfect candidate than you to be my successor..."

"Mr. Kord...I-I don't know what to say..."

"Say 'yes'."

I was absolutely flattered. Me...the next Blue Beetle. Just the thought made me feel like I could save the world. Like I could do anything! The offer itself was enough to make me feel... special. It made me feel like I could be a superhero.

"Yes. I'll do it. Thank you. This is an honor, Mr. Kord, sir."

"It's Ted, Jaime. You can always call me Ted. And I'd be honored to call you the Blue Beetle."

I couldn't help but smile. All my life I've wanted to help people. My family. My friends. Everyone. And until now, I was unsure of what to do with these powers and why I got them, but now I know. Now I know what I must do...

I have to carry on the legacy. The Blue Beetle Legacy...

"Now hurry. Time's running out. Go!"

"Okay. I won't let you down, Ted."

"I know you won't, Jaime."

"T-MINUS 30 SECONDS..."

"Oh! And Jaime!"

I pulled my finger back away from the button as he pulled out a tiny gold chip from his pocket and handed it to me.

"Here. Take this. If you happen to run in to a superhero named Booster Gold, give him this, and tell him it's from me."

"Okay. I will."

"Now go!"

"Goodbye, Ted. I'll never forget you."

"Goodbye, Jaime. And good luck..."

"T-MINUS 5 SECONDS..."

After that quick reminder of how much time I had left, I pushed the button and found myself surrounded by swirling lights, before reappearing at the foot of the mountain. I looked up at the top of the peak, and watched as I waited for it to happen, while a single tear rolled down my cheek beneath my armor...

4...

3...

2...

"One..."

BOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!

"Goodbye, Ted..."

 

[Byrd Man]

The JLA teleporter put Roy on the street near Nightwing, and the archer watched as his best friend took out his aggressions the good ol' American way.

"Hey short pants! I'd ask if you need some help, but I think it'd be more fair if I took the creepos sides."


Roy ran up to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder.

"How ya doin' man?"

"Better than when I first heard the news."

Roy follows me the best he can as I run down an alley and bounce off the walls up towards the rooftop.

Roy's huffing and puffing by the time he climbs to the top of the fire escape. I'm just sitting there, squatting on the roof's ledge.

"I tracked down Joker tonight, I was going to kill him for what he done to Bruce. I beat him to a bloody pulp, but I stopped from going all the way. With him in my blood slick hands, I realized something. Guys like him, Light, and Slade. They want you to kill him. To them, pushing you off the edge is the end, they've done what they set out to do: break you. You give into that, and they win. That's why Bruce never killed Joker, and that's why I didn't do it tonight."

I look up at Roy, he's got a sick look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

 

[Green Lantern]

"Better than when I first heard the news."

Roy follows me the best he can as I run down an alley and bounce off the walls up towards the rooftop.

Roy's huffing and puffing by the time he climbs to the top of the fire escape. I'm just sitting there, squatting on the roof's ledge.

"I tracked down Joker tonight, I was going to kill him for what he done to Bruce. I beat him to a bloody pulp, but I stopped from going all the way. With him in my blood slick hands, I realized something. Guys like him, Light, and Slade. They want you to kill him. To them, pushing you off the edge is the end, they've done what they set out to do: break you. You give into that, and they win. That's why Bruce never killed Joker, and that's why I didn't do it tonight."

I look up at Roy, he's got a sick look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Dick... it's Lian."

"Wait, what? What happened Roy?"

"It... it was Slade. That bastard kidnapped her. Ollie, Dinah and I... we... got to her, but then that sick excuse for a human being he... Oh god Dick... he stabbed her in the eye with an arrow and pulled it out like a sugar plum from a pie."

"Roy, you okay man?"

Dick could see the torment in his friend's face.

"M fine. I..." His words broke as he tried to tell his friend what he had done. "I made sure Slade won't hurt anyone ever again. He... he's gone Dick."

 

[trustyside-kick]

It is a few days after the Doomsday/Brainiac incident, and all Orin has done day in and day out so far is attend meetings and hearings by the Council. When told that he wished to put the Khandaq Incident ahead of others previously scheduled, he was met with angry and harsh words. However, when explaining that without Black Adams help and the combined help of the others, there wouldn't be a world or underwater realm left to govern. So, after many acts of persuasion, the two governments started to work together.

Black Adam had all of the files and paperwork that he had found both in Jordan and Egypt and sent copies to Atlantis. Orin's finest of men were assigned to the job to help find some leads but were unsuccessful at progressing any further than the Khandaqi Government. Today, Orin meets with Black Adam at his homeland in Khandaq, bringing the ruler what his people have been able to find out and deduce about this terrorist organization.

"Aquaman, my ally. Welcome to my home."

"No need to be so proper, Adam. Just think of me as a friend. After I tell you what my people have unraveled, our friendship is going to be vital in taking this organization down."

Intrigued, Black Adam arches his eyebrow, before nodding his head, and leading Orin into his chambers. Orin takes the paperwork he has with him, and lays it out across the large table before them.

"You said that you believed that this new terrorist organization was somehow shielded itself behind some corporate head, yes? That isn't necessarily the case. Look at this particular company; they had a few shares of stock in the oil fields in Egypt just a short distance away from the facility you breached."

"The Ocean Going Resource Exchange?"

"Also known as O.G.R.E."

"O.G.R.E.?"

"Yes. This new terrorist group that has been plaguing is not hiding behind a corporation...it is a corporation."

Black Adam looks at the files as Aquaman pauses for a moment, confused and curious. Opening one of the files, holding it up, and scanning it quickly, Black Adam looks over at Aquaman as he closes it shut.

"And your people found all of this useful information...in the documents I picked up from Egypt? I do not mean to insult your people's intelligence...but Khandaq's finest could not find a link."

"No, what made a link even possible to be discovered is the fact that I have a certain history with two groups who have used the acronym O.G.R.E. The first was an organization once lead by a man who called himself the Supreme One. His organization O.G.R.E. stood for the 'Organization for General Revenge and Enslavement'. This was years upon years ago though, when Garth was still Aqualad. One of my greatest foes, Black Manta, was even hired by this man's organization. The second organization to form such an acronym, was the Ocean Going Resource Exchange."

The file Orin now displays before Adam, is the debriefing report after the Sea Devils succeeded in their rescue mission.

"Just before the Dark Alliance resurfaced, I fought a man who was hired to do a job...an oil drilling job in the Arctic Circle; The Marauder. However, he got away before I could get any further questions. And I wasn't able to do any research on O.G.R.E. II because of the Dark Alliance's attacks."

Unraveling a large piece of paper, Orin takes a marker from the drawer of the desk, and circles three areas.

"Look here. The Ocean Going Resource Exchange's has bases of operations in these cities: Amman, Tokyo, and Rio de Janeiro. You see the connections?"

"No."

"This is a map; something my people found in the USGS archives. On this map, are locations of major oil fields of past and present. The match indicates which are which, and how much oil is within each region. Take a look at the fields in Asia Pacific, Central and South America...and in the Middle East and North Africa. These documents here indicate O.G.R.E.'s investments in all of those areas. They hold majority of control in two of those three regions."

"So that is why they Khandaq is a target. Khandaq's own investments in the Oil and Gas industry of the Oil Fields in the Middle East and North Africa region is wha stands in their way of holding the majority."

"In your report with the incident in Egypt, you said that after killing the man you were hunting down, the pilot committed suicide right?"

"Yes."

"Kamikaze pilot. That has Japan written all over it. And we know that O.G.R.E. has a base of operations in Tokyo."

"All for money...what could they be preparing it for."

"The man that I battled in the Arctic made it clear: they hate America. This is all a means of funding their future War against America. Which is precisely why Black Manta was paid to try to take over Atlantis. He would be able to be hailed Soverign so long as he gave the riches of Atlantis to the Ocean Going Resource Exchange. He wouldn't have to worry about Atlantis' ties to the United Nations and the rest of the world, because by that time O.G.R.E. would've been able to already start their full scale War."

One last file Orin opens up, taking a few photos and handing them over to Black Adam. The photos are of a scene that still infuriates Black Adam just by looking at them.

"I also took a look at the damage report at the four Embassies. You believe it was no other than the gun for hire Deadline, correct? The Marauder mentioned that O.G.R.E. has been hiring mercenaries to do all of their dirty work: that way they are not tied into anything and get to keep their clean image of just being a large corporation. There is doubt that Deadline was working for O.G.R.E. when those Embassies were attacked."

"Very well. Then it is going to take all of our efforts to show the World just how unclean they actually are. Tomorrow I'd like to arrange a meeting, so that--"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Adam. Tomorrow is Lex Luthor's funeral. I have to make an appearance and discuss a few things with the American Government. What is to be discussed...I'm sorry I cannot say. It does not however have any effect on our relationship and the relationship of our two countries so you have nothing to worry about."

 

[Harlekin]

Co-written with Andy C.​

The newscaster is all smiles as she appears on the television sets in more than a million homes in the city of Metropolis. From its gang torn ghetto of the Suicide Slums to its elitist downtown centre, all eyes and ears are fixed on the television, no matter the watcher’s colour of skin, religion or sexual preference.

Three days ago, Metropolis’ greatest hero died.

“Welcome to another edition of the morning news here at Metropolis’ own WGBS-TV. My name is Cindy Mills, and today I’ll be bringing you the latest news as it happens,” the reporter speaks in a soft but professionally detached voice as her eyes lock with those on the other side of the screen. They hang on her lips, devour each word she says. Tonight, the audience is in the palm of her hand.

If Cindy Mills knows of this, is not certain. As she turns around on her seat to face another camera, her face betrays no hint of anger, sadness or joy or any of the applicable emotions that apply to her job of bringing the worst news to people’s homes every day. Today might well concern the worst news of all.

“It has been three days since former President Lex Luthor lay down his life in Gotham in a climactic battle with the alien supervillain known as Brainiac.” Shaky footage of the heroes’ battle with Brainiac and finally Luthor’s ultimate sacrifice against the monster is shown as the newscaster relays once again the important facts: resignation for the sake of humanity, an unbeatable foe, an American hero.

As Cindy Mills reappears, a picture of Lex Luthor from only a few years ago fades into view on the screen behind the anchorwoman. With blueprints in hand, sleeves rolled up and skyscrapers in the background, the photo identifies Luthor as both a businessman and a man of the people. A worker. A man who got the job done. Only the slight twinkle in Luthor’s eyes belie the true person behind the façade. Arrogant. Hateful. A man who got the job done, at any cost.

“Given full honours at Arlington State funeral yesterday--” Images of the casket being carried through the streets, thousands of people standing along its path and thousands more behind them. “--various former presidents, including George W. Bush and Jimmy Carter said a few words--” More images of weeping people, speeches and the firing of guns and canons in honour of a fallen president. “--international ambassadors came to pay their respects--” Leaders from all around the world, including the superhero Aquaman are shown standing beside the new president by the grave.

Cindy Mills turns to face the audience again from another angle. The date of Luthor’s birth and – latest – death have appeared over the picture of Luthor in the back.

“In related news, protests that started three days ago after the airing of President Luthor’s final broadcast came to a head last night as numerous fights broke out across Metropolis. Followers of the group KRYPTONITE, whom are calling for Superman and other extraterrestrial superheroes to leave Earth, engaged mourners wearing shirts with Superman’s logo. Police were only able to arrest five men, hindered as they were by the immensity of the crowds that had gathered on the streets.”

Just as Cindy Mills finishes, her face and the familiar WGBS studio are replaced with the image of a friendly looking brown-haired, blue-eyed man. Seen in the background are numerous people, both mourners and protestors. Upon the man’s right shoulder is a black band with upon it the insignia of Superman with a red circle and line across it.

“In his final speech, President Luthor pointed out the dangers of the aliens among us. That they tore up half of Gotham alone should say enough,” the man tells to the camera as he goes for his most charming smile. “We of KRYPTONITE firmly believe that all extraterrestrials with the ability to should leave Earth. Indeed, even return to their home planet if possible.”

The image of the man is momentarily replaced to show short shots of KRYPTONITE members walking through the streets in a demonstration march. The spokesman’s voice continues: “We are not looking for a fight. We too are here to honour the life of one of America’s, if not the world’s, greatest human hero.” Special emphasis is placed by the man on the word ‘human’.

Filling the screen then is again the lovely face of Cindy Mills. She smiles with the appropriate hint of sadness as she explains the next item: a memorandum of Lex Luthor by men and women on the street. Superlatives and general words of praise are fired after one another in rapid succession by Metropolites of all ages, heights and colours appear to say what they think on television.

<CLICK!>

It was all Lois Lane could do to not throw the remote control into the wall.

"Every last one of those ingrates would've been dead at least three or four hundred times over without you. And the number of times Lex Luthor's done anything to make their lives better, I can count on one hand. It's just....*rrrgh!*...makes me sick to think about it."

Her husband was in the kitchen, making an omelette. He was doing everything he could to not look like all of this affected him. All things considered, the last thing that needed to happen these days was for him to look weak.

"After everything the world's been through, Lois, a lot of them are just covering up their pain with anger. They'll just need some time to figure out who they really need to be angry at. Besides, do you really think the public is going to start trusting the words of the Joker over me?"

He slid the omelette out of the pan and onto a plate, then kissed his wife on the cheek has he handed her her breakfast.

"Give it time. They'll come around."

"Maybe. But we've got a mountain of evidence connecting Luthor to the Dark Alliance, not to mention all the countless other things you've caught him doing. Why not just expose Lex for what he was and get it over with?"

"Because right now, they need to believe that their leader was good. People don't want to think that the person they elected as President was the same monster that had tried to kill them before. Sometimes the symbol is more important than the man himself. Otherwise I wouldn't have put on either one of my costumes.

"And besides, Lex really did inspire people, for good and for otherwise. And one of these days, someone's going to come along who really is all of the things Luthor pretended to be. I don't want to keep that person from coming just yet."

Lois felt almost deflated, seeing that he wasn't going to put up a fight.

"So that's it? You're just going to let these KRYPTONITE yahoos keep attacking you like that?"

And then he gave her that smile, the kind only he could give, that told her everything was going to be okay.

"I've survived Kryptonite before, Lois. I think I'll manage this time, too. In the meantime, I've got to tell a lot of my friends goodbye...and we've got to get you to your first day back at work."