Last Daughter of Krypton: Legion IC

Ceriel. The Vatican, New Rome.

“If it is allowed Ceriel, I have but one last stop to make. A moment in time. A pause of breath.”

There was a certain poignancy here.

"Tarry not overlong, my Knight," Ceriel suggested, unable to refuse, "but pause as long as you have need."

Stepping through the door as it slid open she moved unerringly through a building she’d visited only once before. When she’d been risen to the Rank of Celestial Knight.

Moving into the rather small chapel. A place for the lesser novices and acolytes in need of a moment of silence. Moving into the room she nodded, her head dipped in silent prayer as she knelt before The Cross.

With a gentle puff of her wings that disturbed nothing in the chapel, Ceriel perched lightly on one of the backs of one of the chapel's pews, her toes and fingers curling gently to anchor her there.

And she, too, closed her eyes and inclined her head.

Quite right.

When she opened her eyes again, she regarded the graven image of The Cross.

She wondered how Daniel felt, looking at that image.

Perhaps he felt as she did. That while The Cross seemed to tell, with its austerity and clean lines, a story that ended in Death...

...what it really explained, with its arms spread wide, was that no story ever ended in Death. Not really.

Ceriel's hadn't.

Truth.

Honour.

Justice.

A microsecond passed. A pinpoint laser engaged, firing and lighting 137 candles.

'"Nothing has befallen you but that which is common to man."'

'"Be strong and courageous."'

'"...Jesus wept."'

Finishing she stood and moved to the candles. The pinpoint laser firing. Lighting three more candles. One after another. A name whispered for each of these oh-so-special candles.

Ceriel paused for breath.

“Lady Cleo Suliman. Wife and beloved of Lord-Knight Karak Lang of the House of Kent. Mother.

“Lord-Knight Karak Lang of the House of Kent, Husband of Lady Cleo Suliman. Father.

“Johann Lang, Infant son of Lady Cleo and Lord-Knight Kara Lang. Brother.

“Peace be unto you. May you find peace in the land beyond life, that I could not provide for you in the here and now.”

'"I will be with you always."'

Swallowing her pain as the demon inside chortled in glee, She turned and looked at Ceriel. “I’m ready to go, and I apologize for this small delay.”

Ceriel landed in a crouch, wings tucked, and rose to her feet.

"No apology necessary," Ceriel replied. "Clear heart, clear head, no fear. I understand."

She walked just behind and beside the armoured warrioress, left-hand on the hilt of the blade at her right hip. Her knuckles white amidst the silver.

'I hear you laughing.'

'Zarathos. I hear you laughing.'

'And while it causes me ire that you would take glee in this woman's memory of suffering? Take what glee you can.'

'Because next comes wailing and gnashing of teeth. Even for you. Even for you.'

Indicating the door across from the chapel she moved to it, stepping out on to a balcony and leaping out.

Ceriel leaped to the railing of the balcony, crouching, perching, her wings spread wide...

Micro engines engaged. Micro in that they were small. But each of them was capable of outputing enough power to blast the moon apart. Several times over.

Heaven's designs indeed. Or at least a fair imitation.

“I am capable of self sustained flight across the galaxy. And I would race you, but since I don’t know the destination, and you could translate between space and time instantaneously, such a challenge would be .. moot.”

She grinned softly. "You overestimate me somewhat. Time operates rather differently in Heaven, but while functioning within this plane, time passes no faster for me than it does for a mortal. Having said that, with regard to space? Were I to relax my vibrations and return to Heaven, Ascend anew, I could then Descend wherever The Pax Dei would permit me."

"I prefer to have a physical body," she mused. "But that makes the whole Ascending-Descending thing a little more complicated."

She tilted her head upward. Clouds were rolling across The Sun. Thunder and lightning and all sorts, atmospheric disruption, auroric discharge, this weather looked more like the tumult of Braal's magnetosphere than a storm as should be taking place above Rome on a previously sunny day.

"I hope you don't mind," Ceriel smiled faintly. "I was told something of... secrecy. And thus I took the liberty of providing us cover from civilian authorities. The Sea of Galilee Trick, done in reverse. (Well, one of them.) And, speaking of ascending..."

Her wings spread just a little bit wider, just for a moment, straining upwards... and then snapped downward, concussion, blasting her skyward, she launched and flapped and wheeled...

"Metropolis. Kansas. The Americas."

Oh, she loved this part.

She loved the flying.

And she soared upwards, astonishingly quickly, up towards the heart of the storm.

"Building shaped like an 'L.' Can't miss it."

"Follow me."

Shadow Lass. Wraith's quarters.

"Right, your not a child. I apologize for treating you as such. Sometimes the weight of my years colors my speech in not so welcome ways. I'll make you a deal, I'll call you Tasmia, if you call my Kyle." I said to the young woman.

"'Kyle,' then," she agreed, and turned a circle in the air with her finger. "First-name basis, I suppose that's an improvement. At the least, I nipped this in the bud before you started calling me 'Shady.'"

"And if you are wondering how we got around The Lady's proscription? Love. Thats how. That and some luck. I have people alive now that are of my blood. Your Valkyrie is one."

At this, Tasmia turned a paler shade of blue, her teeth clenching with an audible snap.

"The thermal caster?" she scowled, incredulous. "Bless her, she puts on a brave face nine times out of ten, but conventional wisdom has it that she was only permitted Legion entry because of her father's military service."

Spreading her arms wide, Tasmia fell back upon the bed, gazing up at the ceiling, her face knotted in begrudging acquiescence. "I suppose I'll have to try and acknowledge her glimmer of potential, now that I know that she's of your line."

She craned her neck up a bit, examining him. "Odd that she wouldn't have Shadow-related powers at all. But I suppose that's what happens when the fruit of your loins gets diluted over a thousand years."

Space and time yawned open...

...the dimensions folded like pages of a book...

...and Brainiac Five and Elizabeth Greystone emerged, standing in the space where the Threshold had been.

Brainiac paused. Drank in the roster gathered before him.

And tossed the trap to Fate, utterly dispassionate. "He's fine. Want to help me fix him?"

"I would very much like to assist in that." Jonah smiled a bit.

"I can't promise I won't break him again afterwards. But you can help with the first thing."

"Perhaps in this as well." Jonah let out a small chuckle as a smile crossed his worrisome face. "He definately deserves what ever torment your level 12 intellect can divine."

Rond approached Liz warily. She suddenly looked... tired. "Everything, ah, copasetic?"

She smiled faintly at him. "We have to go and see them."

Rond flinched. "Now?"

Liz chuckled faintly, though her eyes wafted past him and stopped on R.J. Brande. "Soonish."

"Liz. Thank you. Is that a ghost trap ala Stantz and Spangler? Damn... If I were not concerned about ERG-1, I would totally be pissed I missed what I think I missed... Again, Liz, thank you."


Cham held Ayla in an embrace. At this point, he was pretty sure he could die happy. This was something he never thought he would feel. But yet here he was, and here she was. And it was a perfect fit. Like a hand in a glove, they molded together to form a bonded pair. God, he hoped she felt the same way.

Cham was smiling softly. He was not best friends with Garth or Imra. But he knew them both. And he knew that Salu was devilish when she was agitated. And he couldn't help but enjoy the show they had been treated to. He reminded himself to thank Salu the next time he sees her.

Timber Wolf grinned as Imra had stormed by. Inhaling deeply he grinned at the new couple. "Pretty sure this is just Salu ribbing on Imra and Garth.... but, well. Seems everyone is all pheromones today. You two aren't the only lovebirds that this has brought together. The smell is.... strong. Think I am going to go get a drink. Need to clear the smell outta my nose. Sprocking lovebirds." Timber Wolf turned and left. It wasn't the smell of the pheromones that he was leaving. It was the loneliness. A lifetime of being alone, and yet at times like this he still longed not to be the lone wolf. He had joined a pack. And he would fight to the bitter end to defend it. But still, in the end, when the day was over, he was still the lone wolf.

Wraith

I watched as the girl fell back onto the bed. She was very nicely shaped, and her clothing that did nothing to obscure that fact. Her offer was still ringing in parts of me I thought long gone.

Cool it Spooky! No taking advantage of the groupie.

"Don't sell her short. Most people would have said the same thing about the first Valkyrie, and she could kick ass alongside the best of them. Her potential is much more than a glimmer, she just has to realize that herself."

I lay back myself, shadows bleeding off me until I lay there in my human form again. I finished zipping up my pants, then put my hands behind my head, relaxing a bit.

"I like the fact that my bloodline is just not a product of my connection to Shadow. I'd like to think Gen-Tech still exists in some way, that I have families I can trace back to Rose and me. Eventually I am going to have to figure out these computers you have and trace my roots back. Right now though, I just want to relax a second."

Brande

Liz reminded Brande that she had told him she would be back.

"And," he answered, "I'm glad that you returned."

It would be inappropriate for me to hold you at this time, but I plan to make up for that later.

To the rest of the Legion, Brande stated, "I am happy that you all have returned safely."

Brande stood up and addressed Cosmic Boy. "Is now the right time? No time like the present, then," he answered himself. "I'd like to offer my motion and support to admit Green Lantern and Wraith as members of the Legion of Superheroes."

Allana Lang Earth. Enroute from Vatican, New Rome to Legion Headquarters

“Lock on target and track.”

“Tracking..” the onboard system responded.

“Locate planetary coordinates and provide target location on display”

A moment later a winking red beacon indicated the location of Smallville Kansas in her vision range. Or rather it was behind her but she knew where it was.

It wasn’t even a thought. It was like lifting an arm and pointing. Thrusters engaged and she ripped through the sky, Rapidly gaining on the Celestial before her.

And then with a grin, boosters snapped out and she speed past Ceriel, a stream of vaporized water trailing behind her.

“Bite me..” Zarathos murmured as they passed the Celestial. But even he liked the flying. A memory of traveling across the skies when this world was young. Before the monkeys were elevated by The Most High.

Ceriel. En route.

She tore the wind apart, Allana did, this Shining Knight as she blazed past.

She tore the wind and the rain asunder as she launched ahead to that place which both in past and in present had been the threshold and the staging ground for generations of heroes and the inspiration thereof.

And Ceriel's smile, aborning on her face at the sight of the woman rocketing along, was instantly doused by the first words she'd actually heard the demon enunciate.

Her wings slung back and she launched ahead, her speed was phenomenal. Perhaps when endowed with flesh she might not quite have been able to match the speeds of the legendary Dawnstar, how alike in form and function to her brethren and sisters of The Hosts... but she would have gotten close.

Intangible, however, just an image of a winged warrior woman, heedless of wind resistance, she launched forward, she too, ripped the fabric of the storm to shreds as she powered on up and up and out...

She was a black and silver blur as she coursed past the armoured ladyknight.

'Don't tempt me.'

'"Lead me not into temptation."'

Caught up by a jetstream that had mysteriously shifted quite a bit from meteorologists' predictions, the storm seemed to stretch from shore to terrestrial shore. And she powered into this jetstream, the silvery seas flashing by far beneath.

'"Get thee behind me."'

Shadow Lass. Wraith's quarters.

"Don't sell her short. Most people would have said the same thing about the first Valkyrie, and she could kick ass alongside the best of them. Her potential is much more than a glimmer, she just has to realize that herself."

"To be honest," Tasmia dismissed, "'realising' potential is more of a thing for The Academy, or The Reserves. Not The Legion itself. But I suppose we've admitted worse after having seen less. That titanic fool of a Colossal Boy, for instance."

I lay back myself, shadows bleeding off me until I lay there in my human form again.

How casually he does that. Walks the sword's-edge between the planes, steps between the sides of himself.

How beautiful it is when he does so.

I wonder if he knows this, and does it on purpose?

Ah, well, at least he's--

I finished zipping up my pants...

Oh, she frowned. Spet.

...then put my hands behind my head, relaxing a bit.

"I like the fact that my bloodline is just not a product of my connection to Shadow. I'd like to think Gen-Tech still exists in some way, that I have families I can trace back to Rose and me. Eventually I am going to have to figure out these computers you have and trace my roots back. Right now though, I just want to relax a second."

"'Gen-Tech,'" she shook her head. "Never heard of it, I'm afraid. And if 'Valkyrie' is your long-lost descendant, well, I know she's got a thing for psychosocial history in general and family history in particular. She may be your link back, though that's quite a long, long, chain."

But then she rolled onto her side, and gazed across at him, and played her finger anew upon his chest.

"As for relaxing?" and there again came the wicked look on her face, but this time only for a moment, she actually paused and took on a more thoughtful expression. "Well, if I'm not your cup of tea, I suppose I could see my way through to playing matchmaker of sorts."

An impish light danced in those midnight eyes. "There's an interesting little lady in residence who can split herself into three, who can triplicate herself, you can't tell me that wouldn't make for a relaxing evening. Three of the same girl? Mmm? Or perhaps you'd prefer a girl from the upper crust, in which case there's the delectable Phantom Girl."

She frowned a little bit, deep in thought. "For sheer barbarian unflappability, you can't really top-- have you met Ultra Girl?"

Allana Lang - en route

Air screamed.

Clouds parted.

Allana ripped the sky with a sonic boom as she sped after the Celestial.

But in the language of eternity. In the true first speech. A speech that transcended sound and emotion, for it was all things and incomprehensible to a mere mortal such as Allana, Zarathos spoke.

“Wrong demon. I am not the Bringer of light. The Lord of the Morning. The speaker of Lies and deceit. I NEVER LIED!!”

Tearing along at levels even local planetary craft didn’t fly at Allana watched the Celestial before her. And the ground below and skies above. Attacks could come from any side. It never followed a logical course of action. And when it came she’d be ready.

Taking the brief moment the travel would allow her she went through a quick debrief of armaments and defensive systems. A great many of them she knew of. But several upgrades she reviewed.

Caroline's mouth fell open.

Her eyes went wide.

And she clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to keep her laughter from damaging special equipment, oh holy Rao that was priceless.

"You're The Devil, Salu Digby," Powergirl grinned. "And I think I love you."

"Oh, if I could only see the look on his--" she paused, stopped, self-corrected, "--oh, fuck, wait, 'course I can."

"You're justa saying you love me so I won't do something similar next time you get stubborn." She smiled a big smile for Caroline.

"Big creds say Garth first and Imra very shortly after and a lot angrier. "

...and Garth skidded into the archway into the medbay, almost stumbling as he tried to wriggle himself through the half-opened door...

"INEVERLAIDAHANDONHER," he bellowed as he half-fell, leaning on a medbed for support.

"Methinks," Caroline mused, head back and eyes closed, feigning ignorance and innocence, "he doth protest a whole lot."

Garth's nostrils flared, and he held up an index finger of imperious and commanding nature. "Doooooon't make me put Pink K in your coffee."

Salu smiled, a shy timid smile. "Opps, guess I read that one wrong. Must have been Jo's. And whoever the daddy might have been is off the hook. Now get your sproking farm boy tail up on the table so I can fix that nose before it sticks that way."

Salu let the real smile come out. The one that said she knew exactly who she'd freaked out and what was coming next. She turned from prepping Garth for his nose job to face the sound of the Titanian terror entering the room "Imra, I am sorry I took your virtue in vain, but it got mister Fleshwound down here so I could fix his nose for all of us. You know he'd use it as bragging rights. And it also let me know he's got a very guilty conscience. He did protest his innocence."

Legion HQ: Various locations

*While I am sure the look was priceless on both our faces Salu, that was mean, low and despicable and the next time the leadership comes up I am nominating you and making sure everyone votes my way. In the meantime, I just can't pass this up*

There was a wicked little smile on her face as she sashayed into the room. "It can't be Jo's. One of her powers is not spontaneous sex change, tho we have spent loads of time in the shower together." She walked over to a pad and picked it up, looking down as if she was reading it intently.

"Make sure you get that nose on right Salu, we definitely want it fixed. Can't stand snoring." At that, she walked out the door, but trailing back came some words "Remember Sparky, I look good in blue, not that godawful orange you were thinking about."



Rokk kept opening screens, piping through information gleaned from flight rings as the mission on the asteroid unfolded. Even unconscious, Colossal Boys ring fed them information as Validus was almost eaten alive by what amounted to a swarm of demons. *Sprock me!*
He watched as the search unfolded, even hearing the sickening crunch as the dagger went into the rock, piercing the ancient heroes hand. And he saw the last moments of ERG-1 as he saved what was left of his teammate, quite possibly at the expense of his own life.

Eventually all team members were accounted for, and the duty roster was once again set as a backdrop, with most members in the HQ.

"Archive this for breakdown later. I want Dawnstar on tracking the Five. This time it's war! Espionage squad on standby. When she finds them, we do this by the numbers. No more casualties and these guys go down for the rest of their unnatural lives."

Brande stood up and addressed Cosmic Boy. "Is now the right time? No time like the present, then," he answered himself. "I'd like to offer my motion and support to admit Green Lantern and Wraith as members of the Legion of Superheroes."

Rokk turned and addressed Brande. "Sir, while we do appreciate your backing, we will still have to have a council and vote. Also, I believe per current bylaws Wraith may just be a wee bit too old, so those may need to be changed, and I do believe the Lantern is still a recruit, and they do their training on Oah. But provisionally, I can let them be reserve members on my call. How does that sound sir?"

Ceriel. En route.

“Wrong demon. I am not the Bringer of light. The Lord of the Morning. The speaker of Lies and deceit. I NEVER LIED!!”

At these speeds, the seas quickly gave way to the ground.

There was that preserve where Rhode Island used to be, and New York still pockmarked, and on and on... mountains and plains and on and on...

'I am less than interested in nitpicking Commandments with you.'

With a gesture, she signalled to Allana, ever-vigilant Allana, that they should be slowing soon.

'I never accused you of bearing false witness.'

'"The Devil masquerades as an angel of Light," but you are not The Devil.'

'It is not given me to recite your list of grievances, however endless or truncated that list may be.'

Her wings flared, and she braked, and then she dove, yawing, rolling, and pitching into a dive that then looped into a spiral, she tore free from the rrrrreaching tendril of cloud and there below them, there below them was endless spires and expanses of glass and steel.

Metropolis.

And then, having spied the building far below with avian eyes, she tucked her wings and like the peregrine falcon she dove...

'It is not given me to remind you, Zarathos, how you have failed.'

'There are none of us under Heaven who have not failed at one thing or another, who am I to accuse you? I am not The Presence, certainly, nor the embodiment of The Presence's Wrath.'

Black and silver knifed past the windows of The Daily Planet Building.

Absently, a reporter glanced up, looked out the window, and looked back down at his work.

'I'm not here to bitch at you for who you are, luvvie.'

'I'm here to tell you the same thing I tell everyone.'

'"Become who you were born to be."'

Wraith

This little girl has a one track mind. Granted, it's a fun track, almost a roller coaster, but sheesh!

"I think I did Tasmia. Very pretty, looking to bust heads and break things. And while the others sound very interesting, there is nothing *STOP LOOKING AT THOSE!!!!!* wrong with you at all. I meant some mental downtime, which you are helping with by just talking with me as a man, not a warlord or a legend come to life. Besides my daughter and Val, your the only familiar face I have seen here. So stop playing matchmaker. If i decide to go down that path it will be by my choice." I gave a chuckle. "Well, mine and the person walking it beside me."

Making the first move had never been my strong suit. Something Rose pointed out hours after she made the first move. Come to think of it, she was wearing about the same grin this girl was.

"Right, right," Jaymie nodded, adjusting her hold on the jar. "Yeah. Good call. I mean. It's not like I'd know where to put the thing. The guy. I, uh, can't tell a frammistat from a doohickey on the best of days--"

There was more to that sentence, but she just sort of stopped.

And, glumly and dumbly, she walked. She didn't even flinch as Garth rocketed past, even though the breeze of his passing was enough to toss her blue hair into her red gaze.

As Jo led Val to Medbay she didn't say much. Val was looking pretty shocky. Once they got rid of the brain Jo'd see what she could do to get Val out of that.

Valkyrie M3 paused at the door of the medbay, holding the bottle, just outside the motion-sensor radius that would trigger the door to open.

They'd started the day with a mission that involved them not saying much.

And here they were again. Standing in silence.

And "Val" took a deep breath, steeled herself. Tried again to be brave, tried again for the eighth time today...

She slipped into the medbay, and quietly inserted the small tank she carried into a suspended animation unit. "No, see, look. Frammistat."

The omnitherm paused, only briefly, seemingly oblivious to Caroline's presence, to Salu's, to Garth's, to Gim's, to Ord's...

She stared across the room at Monstress' form, lain in repose.

Jaymie waved a little wave. "Hey, Candi."

Okay. Jo'd been quiet cause she hadn't known what to say. She'd known all of those that died. Some better than others. But Val talking to Candi was right the sprock past crazytown right into shockcity. Jo knew she had to get Val away from all of this.

She paused again for a moment, her red eyes glazed, and then she returned her attention to Jo Nah. "So, hey, mission accomplished. Maybe Brainy'll even give me a silver star before the day's done."

"The sprock with that Coluan computool Jaymie, you're always gold star material. Let's get you out of that mucked up costume and into something fresh." she said leading Val away from medbay shooting any and every one of those present a look that promised untold mayhem if any of them said sprock.

Jo was always the first to cause trouble. She was never really the first to come up with a bright idea, and that tended to lead most of the team into thinking she was one step removed from a trained gorilla without the training.

Most of the time they were right, but not always. Jo knew shock when she saw it, and Jaymie was a shocky as they came. She led them out of the medbay. "C'mon thermangel, let's get clean and get you into your bunk. You need to rest. I'll even stay with you to keep the bad dreams away."

Deep space. Barely out of sight of the exasteroid.

Dawnstar was in her zone as she took to the stars. But she'd barely gotten onto her journey when three familiar "scents" appeared around her. Oh bloody Nass. "Ancestors protect me." she muttered to herself.

The amerind pitched over and dove, the giant fist missing her by feet. Dawnstar continued the pitch into a dive and started a hard flight due galactic south. The green blaze of power missed her by microns. Pure instinct took over and the battle began.

The axe almost got her. She hadn't expected the Persuader to be as zero G combat savvy as he appeared to be. She back winged from his second and third slashes.

In the end the fight wasn't as glorious as Dawnstar would have hoped. The Persuader had herded her right into place. The blast of green had struck her sending her sprawling, right into the dread hands of Validus. Literally. She was just begining to correct her flight when the giant hands clapped with her between them.

"Oh, good show you two. If only the other two could be as efficient as you, we would have killed all of the Legionnaires." She soared to the stunned Dawnstar and cupped her chin. "I would finish you off but I have plans. And you will do admirably for them."

The Empress lashed out with her hand and snatched the knife from Dawnstar's boot. "Nth metal. Do your teammates know where your people learned of this? Would they still love you if they knew your people had anything to do with those barbaric Thanagarians?"

She thrust out with the blade and Dawnstar screamed. The blade had bitten deep into one of her wings. "I will see you die." she growled at the Empress.

"I do believe you mean that girl. Isn't that against your precious Legion code?" The knife flashed twice more and Dawnstar managed to keep the screams internalized.

"Oh you are a tough one aren't you? she plucked the feather off the tip of the blade. "Don't worry little one, if he handles this correctly you won't be given to Tharok or Mano. Validus precious. Hold her gently, we need her alive dear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legion H.Q.

An emerald shimmer appeared in the main room. Shvaugn squaked as the computer voiced "Alert, alert. Unknown message beam incoming. Revise. Energy signature Identified. Contact is Emerald Empress......"

"Hello children. I believe we have a bit of business to conduct. And image shimmered from the glow. The Empress with Validus in the background. The giant held Dawnstar by her wings, his giant fingers holding her like a child with a bug. "Or should I say Fate and I have business. Any false moves from any of you and she loses those beautiful wings of hers."

Legion HQ

Cosmic Boy looked on as the Empress talked, his face grim.

"Get Fate, bring him here." He said, his voice scary among the hum of machenery in the room.

"OK Empress, we are getting him. What do you want?"

Sometimes there are dreams.

Sometimes dreams come true.

What, then, if every dream you ever dreamed would be a thing that came true?

Every. Single. One?

What, then, if every dream a whole world ever dreamed would be a thing that came true?

That would be a many-splendoured thing, would it not?

What, then... if the dream was a nightmare?

A nightmare that would then come true?

Sometimes there are dreams.


...fire.

Searing fire.

Searing fire, oh, it burned so hot, so brightly, and yet, not a lick of it pierced the darkness. It burned in airless warmthless soundless space, it flickered and roared and surged and soared.

Conflagration.

A world was burning.

A candle in the dark.

Amidst the fire there was screaming, there was blood and there was screaming and there was weeping.

A world was burning. A world was ending.

Lovers, husband and wife, they gazed across a chasm, they longed and strained to be hand in hand but they were bound, they were pinned, they could hear their neighbours screaming...

The mantle of the planet beneath them cracked.

Rippled like liquid as the very core lurched.

They could not reach each other.

They were ending. They were dying. They were burning.

The woman wept.

This was the future.

And in the time that then was present, an echo of the future, the planet of Naltor, the planet of the prophets and seers and dreamsters and dreamstresses...

They saw that world ending in fire and screams and tears...

Wracked and trapped in sleep, drowning...

It was night on Naltor.

And all the dreamers were screaming.

He could hear them.

Their world too was burning. As if the dream were reaching back from the future, reaching back through them, making itself manifest.

The smoke poured up into the sky and turned even the dayside of the planet dark as night.

The world was burning.

The dreamers were screaming.

He choked on the smoke and he could hear them scream.

The marble tiles of the floor jarred him each time his shoes struck their surface. He wheezed as his lungs dragged in smoke. But still he kept running.

Stained-glass windows whipped past him, but the light they projected was neither soothing nor holy.

The slapping of his feet against the marble rang from wall to wall and his long brown coat billowed around him, trailed behind him, his breath seething through gritted teeth and flaring nostrils.

He skidded to a halt, holding his side, struggling to breathe, his face a knotted mess of frustration and pleading-- "C'mon, c'mon."

He stopped and counted the windows. "Nononono, fourth window from the--"

He kept running.

The screams were thicker here. The citadel of The High Seer and her royal family.

He could hear the help, the servants and the guards. They were all dreaming. They were all screaming. Even the ones that had ever been future-blind, those rare creatures whose dreams saw only forever fiction, nothing yet to be. He could hear the royals.

He could hear a baby.

"Gott'er," he wheezed, and sprinted.

Again he skidded to a halt, found a door, tried the handle.

Locked.

He slapped the surface of the door, letting out a bellow of frustration, digging in the pocket of his brown suit coat.

His tie was askew. The top button of his shirt undone. His roguishly spiky hair stuck to his scalp with rivulets of sweat.

Out came the rod, the wand, the screwdriver.

Its light shone, its whistle sounded, the lock failed...

...he reared back and lifted an emerald-green Chuck Taylor and pounded it through the latch of the door, knocking it off of its hinges.

He staggered in through the door.

He found, beneath a mobile of constellations, in a cradle whose affluence declared her royal birth, a tiny little baby. She had a wisp of platinum hair upon her forehead, and a beauty mark like a star upon her cheek.

She was screaming, and she was crying.

"Shhhhh," he murmured, soothingly, reaching down for her. "Don't worry. I've got you."

"Get your heathen hands off of my hhhkkh," he heard a voice gurgle, and he whirled to face the source, face the door.

A woman. A woman in beautiful, celestial robes. A woman who bled from eyes tight shut, bled from her ears, bled from her nostrils, bled from her gums.

She was asleep. And her dreams were killing her.

But still she walked. And still she talked.

"I know you're there," she shook her head. "I dreamed of you weeks ago. The man in the brown suit. The green shoes. The unforgiven eyes. I cannot see, I cannot hear, I cannot wake. But I saw you then and I know you now."

"High Seer Kiwa Nal," he attempted--

"Get your heathen hands off of my daughter," she wheezed, interrupting him.

"I can save her," he murmured, raising both hands in a placating gesture, soothing, pleading. "Your Worship. But it has to be now. Every second counts. Please. I can save her. You know I can."

She shook her head, groping in his direction but having to lean on the doorjamb for support. "Where will you take her? It is the end for us. Where will you take her that she will not be alone, condemned, the final vestige of her kind?"

He reached down and he scooped the baby up, bundling her in her blankets and cradling her in one arm, the little baby, and The High Seer hissed like a serpent.

"She'll always be one," he murmured, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crystal, a crystal on a necklace chain, and he dropped the chain of this necklace around the baby's neck. "One of a kind. But then, wouldn't she always have been? Nothing like her."

The crystal fell to her little chest and she stopped wailing.

The High Seer hesitated.

"The Last Daughter of Naltor," he shook his head. "I'll take her somewhere she can be safe. And come the day, she'll even find love. Love. Amongst the stars."

He drew the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and he pointed it at the stained glass of the nursery window. He pressed the key, the light shone, the whistle sounded, the window exploded outward in rainbow shards, a rainbow in the night...

The High Seer screamed. "Guards! Guards! He's-- he's taking my baby!"

He whirled to face her.

Screwdriver in one hand, held low by his side. Baby cradled in the other arm, held close to his other side.

"'It is returning,'" he told her, omen and portent and prophecy and you've been out-soothsayed. "'It is returning through the dark.'"

She stopped again.

"She should be with her people," she whimpered, somnambulant and possessed.

"I'm sorry," he replied, and he was. "I'm so sorry."

The screwdriver vanished again into his pocket.

A little bit of blood was starting to trickle from his ear.

His jaw muscle flexed. Both his hearts were pounding in his chest.

He climbed onto the sill of the window, hanging on with one arm, his coat draping down behind him, nearly brushing the floor.

"You already know how this ends."

She stopped, and she nodded, and she sobbed, and she sank to the floor. She slumped to the floor in the doorway and she was gone.

He gazed at her for a moment, a tear of crimson trickling down from his eye.

And he dove from the window.

He dove from the window and he fell through the smoke and the cinders and the dark dark air...

His hand was in his coat pocket and out it came.

It snapped into shape. A batarang, long black line, two-ton test cable attached, and as he fell he threw...

...it twirled 'round a turret, it anchored, he grabbed and pull and swung...

He found the ground.

He hit it running, staggering, almost tripping, moving to shield the baby girl he carried with his very body-- he managed to stay standing--

He sprinted across the cobbles.

His coat flapped like a banner in the wind and his breathing was laboured, the blood from his eyes and ears starting to flow in earnest.

"C'mon," he begged. "Not yet. Not yet. Almost home. Gordon Bennett, almost home..."

His legs heaved like pistons, his breath seethed, he blinked blood and sweat out of those dark dark eyes...

"Always have to park so ruddy far away," he groaned, tearing 'round a bend, pushing off of an alley wall, forcing himself onward...

...and there it was. There beneath a marble arch.

His living machine. His immortal beloved.

The Clever Blue Box.

"C'mon," he urged himself, the fire raged around the smoke billowed thick he could hear the screaming, crescendo and fever pitch... "Come on come on come arrrrrrn!"

He flung his hand out for the door-handle, twisted the hand into the shape of the hand of a man about to snap his fingers, a little click, default setting...

"STOP."

The ground heaved beneath his shoes, he hurtled, he landed on his back, he thudded hard, defended the baby, she started crying again...

"What in-- What?"

He struggled to sit up.

He sat up. The baby was crying.

And his face was incredulous. "...what?"

A man stood there. Between The Doctor and his machine.

A man in a white suit coat with gold inlay and seamwork, pure white suit and shirt and jacket and tie. Gold flames were engraved and painted upon his white shoes.

His pale white hands clasped the head of a cane.

His eyes were dark, and dotted with roving starfields.

His hair was white, white as the poles, save for one lone little forelock of black.

On his shoulder was perched a Raven.

"Time Lord," intoned Daniel, Dream of The Endless.

Carefully, The Doctor picked himself up, glanced at the baby, made sure she was okay. He wavered as he stood, and he feigned casual conversation as he brought his gaze to bear. "Danny-Boy. Been a few. How's the Family? The Old Man behaving 'imself?"

Dream harrumphed. "My Family is as my Family ever was. And the individual you mention performs... adequately."

"And, erm, The Raven," The Doctor pursed his lips, tried not to tremble where he stood. "Matthew, was it?"

The Raven scoffed. "Matthew has not been The Raven of Dream for 950 mortal years, Time Lord. I am called Rachel."

"Right, right, soz," The Doctor nodded. "Pleased as Punch. Now, erm, if this isn't pressing, would you mind permitting me access to my departures gate--"

"These people are Dreamers," Dream shook his head. "And as such, they belong to me."

The ground rumbled.

"Strewth," The Doctor shook his head. "Not this again."

"I would spare them what is coming," Dream declared, implacable.

The Doctor's face tore into righteous incredulity, indignation aforethought: "And this is sparing them, is it?"

"It is sparing them of much worse yet to come," Dream replied, unshaken, "had they lived."

"And what of them that live still?" The Doctor demanded. "What of them? She can help them, she's only one but she can-- she can make a difference."

Dream paused, narrowed his eyes. "What know you of this?"

"Dan," The Doctor pressed, "we've never agreed on much, but you know me, you know what I can do, even when I was a sleepless mortal with a pocket-watch, you knew me. And I can see-- timelines. Tangled weaving webwork timelines. I can see what events are in flux and what events are fixed, I can see the pinpricks of starfields in history, nodal points gathering like data topography. And the death of Naltor-- like Pompeii, like The Titanic, like Krypton, like Tamaran-- it's fixed. Unchanging. Unchangeable. Time-locked."

He held up the child.

"Except for her."

He shook his head. "I watched my own world die in fire and now no-one even remembers it, there's a whole different planet at The Centre of The Universe, it's always been there. My history changed, it's gone, there's a whole new history, this history, where mine used to be. History can be changed, the future can be rewritten, on the turn of a key, the choice of one mere mortal, a heartbeat, you know that."

Dream scrutinised The Doctor. "Unlikely."

"What of the cats, Dream?" The Doctor demanded. "The Dream of A Thousand Cats, what of that? You promised-- your previous 'regeneration'-- he promised that poor dear Siamese--"

Dream almost smiled at that. Rueful. "Bast has been telling secrets again."

The Doctor chuckled faintly. "Not her. Not this time. Jack."

Dream looked away. The Raven flapped her wings.

"Mild telepathy," he murmured. "Sensitivity to chronological events. You perish, too, every moment you stand here it begins to kill you, too. The dream that bereaves Naltor."

The Doctor nodded, eyes nearly as deep and dark as that of The Endless. "Took a bit of a risk, yeah. Only had the one crystal. Keeps her safe."

"You really believe this unlikely likelihood is worth it?" Dream looked at him again, fixed him. "Worth your own life?"

"Worth dying so that others might live?" The Doctor took a deep shuddery breath, and smiled a bloody-gummed smile. "Always. Always always is."

Dream considered this. And stepped aside.

"Do not cause me to regret this."

The Doctor snapped his fingers. The door opened.

"I won't. You won't."

Dream nodded. "I am hardly the least forgiving of my Brothers and Sisters. See that this little girl does not run afoul of Despair."

"She will have love," he promised. "She will have hope. And first, and foremost, she will have peace. The dark is rising... there will be trouble before the end. But before that. She will be among kind men."

Dream pursed his lips. "Go, then."

The Doctor smiled a raggedy smile. "You're a right softie in your old age, Danny-Boy. Your hair's already turning black."

Dream smiled thinly. "Go."

And The Doctor vanished into the box, and the door closed behind him. And wooshing. Groaning. Fading. He was gone.

Dream stood with Rachel The Raven on his shoulder, gazing up into the smokestained sky of Naltor.

"'Omni mutantur,'" Rachel croaked, "'nihil interit.'"

"Yes," Dream nodded, leaning on his cane. "Let us hope so."


The winds blew hard.

The sky was golden, clouds vortexing and roiling.

Bleakness was upon them. And the Halpashar had their heads bowed, their hands folded, meditation reigning. Peace. Calm. Quiet.

But then a wind blew that the abbot sensed was not natural-born, not atmospheric disruption born of the meteorology of this world. And he stood from his sitting position on the floor, and moved to the doorway of the abbey.

And he found there an artifact wholly alien.

And before him, a man in a brown suit, his long brown coat churning in the wild winds of the world.

He held a bundle in his arms. A baby bundle, wearing one of Steeple's own crystals.

Blood on his face was drying.

"Pashassi-Master," he murmured. "I need your help. She needs your help."

"Her name is Nura."

Steeple. Ophiuchi Xi. Ophiuchi System. Centaurus Spiral Arm 887:361:598. Equatorial Diameter 4976 km. Global population c 5720. Mostly indigenous Halpashar species. A noted spiritual retreat, whose violent stellar winds-- generated by an unstable black hole-- makes access to the planet, "limited and hazardous". Intense gravitic activity periodically isolates Steeple, and local cultures enter a contemplative state known as "The Time of Bleakness" while it awaits restoration of contact with the outside galaxy. Current home to the Legion Of Super Heroes Training Annex. Only the second such academy in the galaxy, second to The Legion Training Academy on Montauk.


Last night it happened. There was a damaged shuttle. a prison ship. They landed on the only safe point they could. Steeple. Someone should have read their charts better. Once they landed they couldn't leave. The Time of Bleakness has begun. Myself and Ferro intended to help. However, the prisoner's rioted upon hearing the news. Things quickly escalated. The people of Steeple are not warriors. They are peaceful monks. Yet here, war has found them. The terrorist group known as The Creedo were the prisoners aboard that ship. And now, they have overrun the small population. Holding them hostage. This is my home. This is my choice. I will not allow harm to come to this place. For the last 3 years I have been in charge of the Legion Training Academy Annex here. All but a hand full of students had been sent home. But those that are here shall stand with me. I shall avenge the death of my teacher. The gruesome injury of my best friend. Now, they shall understand the the mistake they have made by preying on those that would do no harm, on those that wish only to make the galaxy a better place.

The small assortment of would be heroes are assembled in a cave to the north of the settlement. They, unlike the rest of the populace do not need blimp steeds to navigate the hazardous cliffs. Though probationary members in training, they still have received their flight rings.

Master Armorr. I do not think it wise that we hold off our assault any longer. I believe that we have the best chance of success if we strike while the enemy is still trying to get a foot hold. To wait gives us no advantage. Statistically that is. Babbage, a cybernetic life form from Robotica spoke slowly. Not wishing to contradict his teacher.

"You speak out of turn Babbage. I trust Karate Kid. He would not lead us wrong." The young dark skinned woman in the red and white jumpsuit shoots a quick look at their contemplative teacher.

"Listen, Val, Mr. Armorr, Karate Kid, Um... if you aren't up to this... if you want to stay here and take care of Ferro, I can totally understand. We can do this. We can handle this."

Val Armorr stands slowly from his lotus position. Carefully he checks the tape on his wrists. Seemingly unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"No. We shall wait. There is a storm coming. You can feel the subtle change in the pressure if you focus. The storm will cover our approach. We will strike quickly. You three will recover the captives. And you will get them to safety as fast as you can. They are the highest priority. I shall be in meditation. When the storm begins we shall move." Val then turns and goes to the back of the cave. Silently he begins his meditations in the next cavern.


Two hours later...

There was an explosion of intense heat. The very mountains shake. Something was wrong. Val stood and moved through the cave. Ferro was still unconscious. But the others were gone. Val wasted no time. In a flash of movement against the night he was gone. Flying toward the top of the mountain where the township sits. He can see the blaze. The colossal prison ship was burning. Then he saw her. Computo. Danielle Foccart. And she was hurt. Badly.

"What happened?" Val landed softly beside her.

Babbage and Polar Boy. They insisted that we move. That you were too emotionally drained. That you would get killed being unfocused. I was going to take control of the ship. Use it against them. Use it to evacuate the captives once Polar Boy and Babbage had extradited them. But they caught me. I tried to flee. But there were too many. Then Babbage attempted to rescue me. He broke off from his route and attacked. They captured him in the fire fight. But the explosion from one of the turrets engines being damaged... I don't know if the others are okay... we failed. Now it is over. They have won. I am so sorry. Tell Jacques I love him. Please." Danielle cries softly as she relates her misadventure.

Val listens intently. Seemingly almost detached. He surveys her condition. She needs healing. Her body is battered. If he can slow down her metabolism, maybe he can save her. Carefully Val uses a series of pressure points. Shutting her body down. Bringing it into a trance-like state. "I will fix this. And you will tell Jacques that you love him when we return to the Legion." Val takes a small bell from his pocket. A distress beacon crafted by Fate. By shattering the bell, he will send a magically signal to the Legion. Though if Fate is wrong about his magic being able to bypass the worm hole, they may be doomed anyway. But one must try what they can. Gently, Val snaps the bell in half. Neatly. Then he is gone. Moving toward the ship where the prisoners were held.

As he arrives he sees the dire state. In reaction to the Legion Cadet's strike team, several of the Halpashar had tried to help. And now they were being used as an example. As he approached the edge of the hole in the shuttle, he can hear the words spoken by the leader of The Creedo.

"You have disobeyed the orders of The One. Of the Creedo! You shall be an example of what happens to those that oppose The One. One Cause. One Mission. For the One. CREEDO!"

The tall multiarmed being raises his wicked clawed hands and begins to bring them down on the helpless monks. Then there is a shattering smack, as a foot is driven into his back and he sent flying.

You have made a mistake here. You killed my Teacher. In doing so, I am now the head of my order. He was a pacifist. He would do you no harm. He was a better man than I. No harm shall come to these people. I am their Tutelary. You have no power here."

Val stands before the gathered killers. Ten hardened criminals. Ten terrorists. The first to strike is a short squat reptilian. His gnashing teeth and claws flailing.

Val sidesteps the incoming threat. Twisting he catches the beast by his wrist, using his momentum to hurl him back where he had come from, back into his brethren. There is a crash as he lands sending his own flying. On his heals comes a blast of fire. Val weaves, ducking as the bolt sails high. Quickly, impossibly quickly, Val changes his stance. As another blast of flame comes he makes a quick movement, shifting the air before him, creating a draft current. Using the shifting air to send the blast back at his foe. It strikes true, sending the pyrokinetic flying. Then they are all striking, fists, pipes, claws, fire, ice, all flying at once. And at the center, as if in the eye of a great and powerful tornado stands Val Armorr. With strikes and parries faster than should be possible, with throws, and reversals that no other man could imagine, Val fights. His simple tunic and pants are singed and torn. There is blood, oh yes, there is blood. But not all of it is Val's. The leader returns to the fray, but Val is ready. Launching through the air he strikes, three, four, five kicks to the leader's face before he can muster so much as a sound. Then he is back on the ground. Driving his fists like pistons into everything that moves, kicks, punches. Val is a perfect storm.

As the dust settles... One man stands. One Man. One Mission. One Cause.


Justice.


Val Armorr stands tall. His foes crumpled and beaten. His brethren saved. Val sees what is left of Babbage in the corner of the room. One good thing about cybernetics, if the processor survives, they can be rebuit. And never will Babbage miscalculate in this way again. Polar Boy is not as lucky. He is alive, but in no way okay. He barely breathes. His heart is nearly done.

There is a great shimmer of light. Then there is help.



____________________________

Jonah had just followed Brainy to his lab. And then he heard it. A tinkling. Soft. Like music of The Spheres. This could mean only one thing. Without hesitation, Jonah mentally commanded back to him his Garb.

"Sorry Brainy. Trouble on Steeple. The Time of Bleakness has begun not more than a day ago, and yet there is trouble. I will return as soon as I can." Fate then disappears in a great shimmer of Gold and Purple.


____________________________

"Val! What.... what is happening?"

"Prison ship made an emergency landing. Then the prisoner's revolted. The Creedo. Ferro is hurt, he is nearby. As is Computo. Babbage I fear is beyond my skills, perhaps you can return his processor to Brainy, I am sure that he can rebuild himself if plugged into the appropriate resources. Polar Boy... he is who I am most concerned about. He is too badly wounded for me to use my techniques to put him into a trance. Can you heal them?"

"I can."

Fate begins to chant as he approaches Polar Boy. Eldritch energy flows from Fate and surrounds Polar Boy. His body begins ot heal almost immediately. In but a moment he is healed, though he will not be ready for active duty for some time. Fate begins to scry for Computo. Once he finds her he teleports to her side and begins his work again. She too begins to heal under his care.

Babbage meanwhile comes back online. Slowly his head rolls to the side. Sir. I was wrong. I am sorry. I shall be fine. Mostly operational. No primary system damaged. One of them had electro-magnetic capabilities. Short circuited my programing temporarily. Thankfully I am Ion shielded."

It is fine Babbage. You proceeded in what you felt to be the most logical fashion. And, given their state of preparedness, perhaps you were right. More time and they may have been able to stop our rescue." Val smiled weakly as he walked to his fallen student and began to help him to his feet. Next time however, I suggest that you try a more subtle assault. Blasting an engine is not exactly a way to sneak in to get the prisoners out. Though, I suppose if you were going for a distraction, like to save Computo's life, then it would have been a fair strategy."

Fate returns with Computo, still in a healing coma. "Shall we evacuate to the HQ?"

"You can take these criminals, and our friends here, but I must stay. There are many things that must be done. Also, it is preferable to take Ferro. I have never seen him so badly hurt."

" 'Tis but a scratch. 'Tis but a scratch from the King of Cats." Ferro grins as he stumbles in.

"No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man." Fate nodded at Ferro. "I hope your prognosis is better than dear Mercutio's."

"I will survive. I won't be any prettier. But I will live. And I shall stay here. I will help Val rebuild. I owe him my life, and this place my soul."

"Very well. And the others?"

Computo and Polar Boy had both awoken while Ferro had been speaking. Confused they looked on.

"I have too much to learn from this place. I will stay."

"Yeah, I don't think I can go back and face Cos and them. I wish to stay. So I may work on my flaws. Learn the patience and the wisdom this place holds."

Fate nods. "Very well. Then I leave you with this once more Val. Summon me if I am needed." Fate tosses a small bell that makes no sound to Val.

"Thank you as always. My friend."

"Much has happened today. There is a foulness in the galaxy I can't quite reach. But it is if Evil itself is emanating through all the worlds. ERG-1 is in a precarious situation. The Fatal Five planted a anti energy bomb and he absorbed it. Brainy was just beginning to sort him out when I got the summons. The Five also killed several of our associates today. But now is not the time. I will see to it that if need be we contact you. Good bye Val. My friend." Fate nods as he disappears before Val can speak further. The room full of terrorists is gone as well. In a second they are deposited in the holding area of a maximum security facility. Fate sends message to the warden. Then he is gone once more.



____________________________

There is a blindly flash again as Fate regains his place in Brainy's lab.

With a wave of his hand, Fate is gone. Once more replaced by Jonah.

"I apologize. All is taken care of. Now, let's get ERG rebuilt so you can tear him apart again."

Takron Galtos.

The Maximum security district of the Galtos was quiet. More quiet than it had been in years. Not that there weren't full berths of convicts, but they were all being quiet and still.

It was scaring the hell out of the veteran guards. The rookies present didn't quite appreciate the fear this invoked. "I don't like this one bit," S.P. Officer Magurk said to his partner. "I don't like it at all. None of them have had an outburst in too long. Even Ranzz is behaving."

"I know what you mean." answered his partner. "Ain't......"

"System alert, system alert. Cyber intrusion Maximum security. Systems breach in three, two, breached. Systems failing..........."

The man in the yellow and black containmet suit stepped off the supply barge. "Tharok, I'm in."

"As am I Mano. Secure perimeter and prepare for passengers. kill all opposition you encounter."

In cyberspace Tharok entered the matrix of Maxsec. It's A.I. had failed against the tech that was Tharok. The latest upgrades were antique, yet so far out of the realm of modern use. The tech of the same era as the Atomic Axe were illegal throughout U.P. space. Maxsec fell to it in no time flat. He'd had no defenses against antiques.

He entered the berths the Empress wanted him to. in each of their cells he said "Mekt Ranzz, Eve Ardeen, Roy Anisson, Sussa Paka, Zaxton Regulus, Titania, Silver Slasher. The Emerald Empress sends her greetings and would offer you your freedom as members of her Legion of Super Villains. Make your ways to loading dock A as soon as your cells open. Mano is waiting to bring you to your new destinies. Feel free to bring any others you wish that you may trust. Let the jail break begin."

All cells in all berths of Maxsec open simultaneously. The convicts were released.

Shadow Lass. Wraith's quarters.

"I think I did Tasmia. Very pretty, looking to bust heads and break things. And while the others sound very interesting, there is nothing wrong with you at all. I meant some mental downtime, which you are helping with by just talking with me as a man, not a warlord or a legend come to life. Besides my daughter and Val, your the only familiar face I have seen here. So stop playing matchmaker. If i decide to go down that path it will be by my choice." I gave a chuckle. "Well, mine and the person walking it beside me."

She looked at him.

With a dawning kind of respect that had nothing to do with the obscure predestined nature of his origins.

"Holy spet," she murmured. "You're a romantic. And here I thought Scions of Shadow were rare."

She gazed at him, dark eyes sleeted through with flickerings of dubiousness.

And she sat up, and she looked at her hands folded in her lap like she didn't know what to do with them for a moment.

But then she swung her gaze back around, dark dark hair tumbling and wafting over slender shoulders and muscled back and delectable front.

"I took oaths on the holy writ of my people to serve you and your ilk," she murmured. "My whole life I thought, if I were to cross paths with my Lord, he would need most a woman to sate carnal hungers and keep his mind on the battle, and second-most a soldieress to wage war beside him ice-cold, tenebras-adorned, unafraid. I did not think you would need a voice of counsel."

Her eyebrow quirked. She seemed a little. Lost. "My abilities as a crying shoulder are hardly renowned. The opposite, in fact."

"I am no angel."

Abraxas Winterlight said:

Rokk turned and addressed Brande. "Sir, while we do appreciate your backing, we will still have to have a council and vote. Also, I believe per current bylaws Wraith may just be a wee bit too old, so those may need to be changed, and I do believe the Lantern is still a recruit, and they do their training on Oah. But provisionally, I can let them be reserve members on my call. How does that sound sir?"

Click to expand...

"Right," Brande answered. "Just putting my two cents in. Or, two million. Or whatever." Brande gave Rokk a soft punch in the arm and a smile. "Then, we should eat. It's time for lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever time it is, I'm hungry. But, just remember: if you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding."

And then the Empress showed up.

And Brande narrowed his eyes.

Eyes, that just for an instant, were flaming red.

"Did someone order take out?" he whispered.

Liz reminded Brande that she had told him she would be back.

"And," he answered, "I'm glad that you returned."

There were shadows where her eyes should have been but those shadows were alight with delight and bemusement. Because she could see him. Figuratively. She could see the Ma'aleca'andran behind the man.

She could see how, even in that tiny snatch of dialogue, he was being emotionally demonstrative.

Cool, calm, reserved J'onn. She could see the heart of him, she had known him for so long.

She could not read his thoughts but she saw the warmth of him.

She loved that.

"Well," she murmured, "I'm glad, and you're glad."

And there it was, in her, too, quite a match, inexpressible feeling thoroughly expressed with almost no expression at all.

And there he was. Even beneath the gold of the mask, his references, his humour, here at the end of a thousand-year-gap, it was impossible, but she had known it was him. She read him like a book when he had been like a cousin and an older brother to her, a twin that had predated her two siblings and herself. Upon seeing him again, in all his mystical glory, she could not help but know that selfsame book like she'd read it all her life.

And here he was unmasked. Jonah. Identity confirmed.

"Liz. Thank you. Is that a ghost trap ala Stantz and Spangler? Damn... If I were not concerned about ERG-1, I would totally be pissed I missed what I think I missed... Again, Liz, thank you."

She winked at him. "Never let it be said I do not pay tribute where tribute is due. I had thought I had left only memories. But more and more I find my memories live on.

"Even the silly memories of popcorn and blu-ray discs."

Brainiac Five snapped his fingers in front of Jonah's face. "Far be it from me to interrupt such juvenescent proceedings. But there is lucubration to be done. Tennylson: this way."

And he led Fate away.

Liz nodded, smiling a smile that was not a smile. "No rest for the wicked."

Cham held Ayla in an embrace.

Cham was smiling softly.

And Ayla relaxed into that embrace, shapeshifted a smile of her own onto her face, and decided to quit worrying about her brother and his poor imaginary progeny-to-be. Decided to quit worrying about what it "meant" for a single-form girl to have a fixation a fascination an infatuation a burning desirous interest in a boy who could be anyone or anything, male or female or any variation of gender under the sun.

She was who she was. And she was a woman charmed by Reep Daggle. Whatever that meant.

Timber Wolf grinned as Imra had stormed by. Inhaling deeply he grinned at the new couple. "Pretty sure this is just Salu ribbing on Imra and Garth.... but, well. Seems everyone is all pheromones today. You two aren't the only lovebirds that this has brought together. The smell is.... strong. Think I am going to go get a drink. Need to clear the smell outta my nose. Sprocking lovebirds." Timber Wolf turned and left.

Kid Quantum chuckled faintly and put one hand on a hip, watching him go.

"Are we sure that bitches are the females of his species?" she faux-mocked, good-natured, teasing, hoping Brin's sharp ears could hear her.

More quietly, she trailed off, shook her head. "(He should try barking up Tinya's tree again. That should throw him off the scent.)"

To the rest of the Legion, Brande stated, "I am happy that you all have returned safely."


Jonah had just followed Brainy to his lab.

Brainy was talking: "...obviously, obviously, we need to revisit the structural integrity issue of ERG-1's containment suit. Should he be permitted to remain as a Legionnaire, he will likely not learn his lesson from this and continue such rampant misbehaviour. In which case, his shell should be reinforced such that he can withstand greater external punishment as well as internal."

Flipping switches, Brainy threw on a fresh lab coat and stepped over pieces of the now-abandoned conduit upgrade he'd been working on when this whole misbegotten day had begun.

"To that end," Brainiac mused, putting his hands in the labcoat pockets, "I shall attempt to rework samples of a versatile organo-plastic gleaned from the early early stages of deep-space Threshold exchange programs. Apparently the extragalactic locals call this substance 'use-weave' and--"

He scowled, and half-turned to glance at Jonah. "--are you even-- are you listening?"

And then he heard it. A tinkling. Soft. Like music of The Spheres. This could mean only one thing. Without hesitation, Jonah mentally commanded back to him his Garb.

"Sorry Brainy. Trouble on Steeple. The Time of Bleakness has begun not more than a day ago, and yet there is trouble. I will return as soon as I can." Fate then disappears in a great shimmer of Gold and Purple.

Brainiac stood there, gazing at the spot where Fate had stood, his hands still in his pockets.

His expression was utterly disdainful.

"Grife."

He shook his head.

"The only things less reliable than magic? Are magic users."


Brande stood up and addressed Cosmic Boy. "Is now the right time? No time like the present, then," he answered himself. "I'd like to offer my motion and support to admit Green Lantern and Wraith as members of the Legion of Superheroes."

Rond blinked for a moment. "Wait. I'm not-- which one?"

M'onel emerged from his reverie and glanced up at Vidar. "I think he means you, guy. Which, speaking as a newbie to this locale myself, you didn't too bad out there. For a beginner."

Vidar looked nearly paralysed. "'Everything that has a beginning has an end.'"

And M'onel gazed at him. "Nothing lasts forever. All the more reason you should enjoy the ride while it does last."

Rond nodded. He nodded. And he smiled.

Rokk turned and addressed Brande. "Sir, while we do appreciate your backing, we will still have to have a council and vote. Also, I believe per current bylaws Wraith may just be a wee bit too old, so those may need to be changed, and I do believe the Lantern is still a recruit, and they do their training on Oah. But provisionally, I can let them be reserve members on my call. How does that sound sir?"

"Right," Brande answered. "Just putting my two cents in. Or, two million. Or whatever." Brande gave Rokk a soft punch in the arm and a smile. "Then, we should eat. It's time for lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever time it is, I'm hungry. But, just remember: if you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding."

"You hear that?" M'onel grinned, clapping Rond on the back. "Somebody get this man a Flight Ring."

"But I thought--" Rond frowned, trying to figure this out, the physics of temporal displacement were a walk in Centennial Park compared to the machinations of this array of sentients "--just a Reservist?"

M'onel smirked softly. "Even the honorary members get Flight Rings, kid."


"You're justa saying you love me so I won't do something similar next time you get stubborn." She smiled a big smile for Caroline.

At this, Caroline barely batted an eye. She was busy watching. "Oh, c'mon, Vi. What're the chances of me doing something stubborn?"

"Big creds say Garth first and Imra very shortly after and a lot angrier. "

"No bet," Caroline waved this off. "I'm still paying off my bet with Jenni that she could outrace me to Andorra. (I couldn't find the place, it was so tiny, and I've got microvision.)"

Caroline laid down quickly. "Besides. X-ray eyes. We hadn't even made the bet and I was already cheating."

...and Garth skidded into the archway into the medbay, almost stumbling as he tried to wriggle himself through the half-opened door...

"INEVERLAIDAHANDONHER," he bellowed as he half-fell, leaning on a medbed for support.

"Methinks," Caroline mused, head back and eyes closed, feigning ignorance and innocence, "he doth protest a whole lot."

Garth's nostrils flared, and he held up an index finger of imperious and commanding nature. "Doooooon't make me put Pink K in your coffee."

Salu smiled, a shy timid smile. "Opps, guess I read that one wrong. Must have been Jo's. And whoever the daddy might have been is off the hook. Now get your sproking farm boy tail up on the table so I can fix that nose before it sticks that way."

Garth flinched. And scowled. He'd been had, he could grok that, and he hopped up on one of the empty medbeds, sitting there and swinging his legs. But that didn't mean he had to go quietly: "Gee whiz, Digby, it never occured to me that with Doctor Gym'll on sabbatical and 'Doc' Shakespeare teaching medic stuff at Montauk Point... that there'd been an opening on staff for den mother."

*While I am sure the look was priceless on both our faces Salu, that was mean, low and despicable and the next time the leadership comes up I am nominating you and making sure everyone votes my way. In the meantime, I just can't pass this up*

There was a wicked little smile on her face as she sashayed into the room.

Salu let the real smile come out. The one that said she knew exactly who she'd freaked out and what was coming next. She turned from prepping Garth for his nose job to face the sound of the Titanian terror entering the room "Imra, I am sorry I took your virtue in vain, but it got mister Fleshwound down here so I could fix his nose for all of us. You know he'd use it as bragging rights. And it also let me know he's got a very guilty conscience. He did protest his innocence."

"Vehemently," Caroline said, holding up an index finger.

"Velk it," Garth scowled.

"It can't be Jo's. One of her powers is not spontaneous sex change, tho we have spent loads of time in the shower together." She walked over to a pad and picked it up, looking down as if she was reading it intently.

Garth crossed his legs in a hurry. His voice cracked. "I thought she meant-- the test was-- Jo's. Not the. 'Cargo.'"

"Make sure you get that nose on right Salu, we definitely want it fixed. Can't stand snoring."

Caroline guffawed and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Garth glared at the Kryptonian hybrid, turning darker than crimson.

At that, she walked out the door, but trailing back came some words "Remember Sparky, I look good in blue, not that godawful orange you were thinking about."

His legs already crossed, Garth folded his hands in his lap. "In my defence, it was a very flattering orange."

Caroline chortled. "Of course it was."

And "Val" took a deep breath, steeled herself. Tried again to be brave, tried again for the eighth time today...

She slipped into the medbay, and quietly inserted the small tank she carried into a suspended animation unit. "No, see, look. Frammistat."

The omnitherm paused, only briefly, seemingly oblivious to Caroline's presence, to Salu's, to Garth's, to Gim's, to Ord's...

She stared across the room at Monstress' form, lain in repose.

Jaymie waved a little wave. "Hey, Candi."

Okay. Jo'd been quiet cause she hadn't known what to say. She'd known all of those that died. Some better than others. But Val talking to Candi was right the sprock past crazytown right into shockcity. Jo knew she had to get Val away from all of this.

She paused again for a moment, her red eyes glazed, and then she returned her attention to Jo Nah. "So, hey, mission accomplished. Maybe Brainy'll even give me a silver star before the day's done."

Caroline actually opened an eye at that. There was something about VM3's voice that wasn't quite right.

One of Garth's brilliantly expressive eyebrows climbed his forehead.

"The sprock with that Coluan computool Jaymie, you're always gold star material. Let's get you out of that mucked up costume and into something fresh." she said leading Val away from medbay shooting any and every one of those present a look that promised untold mayhem if any of them said sprock.

Caroline opened her mouth, but Garth put a finger across his lips and Caroline closed her mouth again.

Jo knew shock when she saw it, and Jaymie was a shocky as they came. She led them out of the medbay. "C'mon thermangel, let's get clean and get you into your bunk. You need to rest. I'll even stay with you to keep the bad dreams away."

"'Thermangel,'" Jaymie murmured, as they moved out into the hall, and smiled a gentle little smile. "I like that. Like that song. 'Earth Angel.' I think that's a better name than the one I got already."

Jan stood in the hall by the Medbay door and watched the two women walk away.

He frowned, sadly, on Jaymie's behalf, but it seemed that Ultra Girl had this well in hand. Perhaps her experience with urban warfare served her well in matters of "shell-shock."

He stepped through the medbay doors.

Glanced around.

Caroline and Garth were both looking... awkward.

"Valkyrie M3?" he murmured.

"'Not Ready For Prime Time,'" Garth shook his head, though he hated himself for suggesting it.

Element Lad nodded. "Oh, dear."


...in some part of VM3's skull, the organic computational component was still functioning.

And when Jo suggested "get clean," it dawned on Jaymie that she'd ralphed somewhat recently. As she walked, she clenched her teeth, and a burst of fire raged for an instant, just an instant, in her mouth, and when next she parted her lips she exhaled a puff of smoke. She'd sterlised her mouth, but she made a face, because now, now, her mouth tasted of soot.

Oh, well. Better the one thing than the other.

She leaned heavily on Jo's arm as Jo led her away, along the hall, to the lift, leaning her head on Jo's shoulder and smiling that gentle little smile, though her voice had an absent little sing-song quality to it: "Though. Really. If either of us here is an angel, it's you. Nice to me. An'. An' you're very pretty. (Did I never tell you that?) I always sussed you were pretty."

The lift doors slid closed and Jaymie closed her eyes, her head on Jo's shoulder.


An emerald shimmer appeared in the main room. Shvaugn squaked as the computer voiced "Alert, alert. Unknown message beam incoming. Revise. Energy signature Identified. Contact is Emerald Empress......"

And then the Empress showed up.

"Hello children. I believe we have a bit of business to conduct. And image shimmered from the glow. The Empress with Validus in the background. The giant held Dawnstar by her wings, his giant fingers holding her like a child with a bug. "Or should I say Fate and I have business. Any false moves from any of you and she loses those beautiful wings of hers."

Liz' face became a mask of fury and determination. I wish you were here. I am not twice bested so easily.

Rond tried to keep his own face even, ready to fly to his mentor's defence, if need be: it made sense to him that if The Eye could beam a message in here, it could perhaps mount an attack, as well. The hits just keep on coming.

M'onel was standing close to Kid Quantum, and his voice was a murmur: "Jazmin. I haven't had a chance to recharge my solar cells. D'you think you can do a quantum flush, straighten me out?"

Jazmin digested this for a moment, her voice kept so low he had to use superhearing to catch it. "Probably could. No persp. But I can't promise The Empress wouldn't interpret that as a false move."

"Noted," M'onel nodded, quiet. "Wait for an opening. If she transmats in, becomes solid, she might have a moment of disorientation--"

"You got it," Jazmin nodded.

And Brande narrowed his eyes.

Eyes, that just for an instant, were flaming red.

"Did someone order take out?" he whispered.

Perhaps fortunately for Brande's hidden self, the most of folks had their eyes on the projection.

Including Ayla, whose jaw clenched such that she delivered her own bit of bad-assery through gritted teeth, sparks dancing 'round her eyes. "Take-out this cold's no good unless you put it through the microwave."

Cosmic Boy looked on as the Empress talked, his face grim.

"Get Fate, bring him here." He said, his voice scary among the hum of machenery in the room.

Kid Quantum keyed the omnicom in her Ring. "Fate."

"OK Empress, we are getting him. What do you want?"

No response. "Jonah."

No response. Jazmin frowned. "Link to last known location for Legionnaire Fate."


Having linked with Kid Quantum's omnicom, the computer console in Querl's lab chirped amiably.

Brainiac sat up sharply, pulling the goggles off of his face and nearly dropping a plate of Use-Weave. "Grife. Again. WHAT?"

Jazmin's voice came through clearly: 'Visitor for Fate. She's quite insistent.'

Querl harrumphed. "I'm hardly his valet. Tell him to organise his own social outings."

'Dox,' Jazmin growled, 'it's The Empress. She's got Dawny hostage and she's insisting that Fate can cure what ails her.'

Querl slapped his palm over his eyes. "Sprocking squaj grife spet nass bastitch."

Jazmin paused audibly, then: 'Care to run that by me again?'

Querl snarked: "His kono went flat; he went out for a fresh one."

Jazmin hesitated. 'Sprock.'

Querl hmphed. "Tell me abou--"

There is a blindly flash again as Fate regains his place in Brainy's lab.

"Hold on," Brainiac interrupted himself, scowling. "Resolution in work."

And silenced the link.

With a wave of his hand, Fate is gone. Once more replaced by Jonah.

"I apologize. All is taken care of. Now, let's get ERG rebuilt so you can tear him apart again."

"Humpty Dumpty can wait," Brainiac seethed. "Get dressed. You've got a date. Voluptuous and verdant. Threshold Xmission. NOW."

Garth flinched. And scowled. He'd been had, he could grok that, and he hopped up on one of the empty medbeds, sitting there and swinging his legs. But that didn't mean he had to go quietly: "Gee whiz, Digby, it never occured to me that with Doctor Gym'll on sabbatical and 'Doc' Shakespeare teaching medic stuff at Montauk Point... that there'd been an opening on staff for den mother."

"Yeah, seems the team needs a Den mother to handle sprocking macho farmboys with delusions of the big league." Salu picked up the Med comp and scanned the damage. "You got off light Lad, your big brother did worse to you last time you two tussled."

"It can't be Jo's. One of her powers is not spontaneous sex change, tho we have spent loads of time in the shower together." She walked over to a pad and picked it up, looking down as if she was reading it intently.

Garth crossed his legs in a hurry. His voice cracked. "I thought she meant-- the test was-- Jo's. Not the. 'Cargo.'"

Salu grinned. Sometimes Imra could be a bitch. Other times pompous. But at the moment she was the sprocking bomb.

"Make sure you get that nose on right Salu, we definitely want it fixed. Can't stand snoring."

Caroline guffawed and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Garth glared at the Kryptonian hybrid, turning darker than crimson.

At that, she walked out the door, but trailing back came some words "Remember Sparky, I look good in blue, not that godawful orange you were thinking about."

His legs already crossed, Garth folded his hands in his lap. "In my defence, it was a very flattering orange."

Caroline chortled. "Of course it was."

And "Val" took a deep breath, steeled herself. Tried again to be brave, tried again for the eighth time today...

She slipped into the medbay, and quietly inserted the small tank she carried into a suspended animation unit. "No, see, look. Frammistat."

The omnitherm paused, only briefly, seemingly oblivious to Caroline's presence, to Salu's, to Garth's, to Gim's, to Ord's...

She stared across the room at Monstress' form, lain in repose.

Jaymie waved a little wave. "Hey, Candi."

Okay. Jo'd been quiet cause she hadn't known what to say. She'd known all of those that died. Some better than others. But Val talking to Candi was right the sprock past crazytown right into shockcity. Jo knew she had to get Val away from all of this.

Salu's eyes narrowed. She knew what was going on in Jaymie's head. It'd happened to her more than once. Jayjay wasn't handling this one as well as others.

She paused again for a moment, her red eyes glazed, and then she returned her attention to Jo Nah. "So, hey, mission accomplished. Maybe Brainy'll even give me a silver star before the day's done."

Caroline actually opened an eye at that. There was something about VM3's voice that wasn't quite right.

One of Garth's brilliantly expressive eyebrows climbed his forehead.

"The sprock with that Coluan computool Jaymie, you're always gold star material. Let's get you out of that mucked up costume and into something fresh." she said leading Val away from medbay shooting any and every one of those present a look that promised untold mayhem if any of them said sprock.

Caroline opened her mouth, but Garth put a finger across his lips and Caroline closed her mouth again.

Jo knew shock when she saw it, and Jaymie was a shocky as they came. She led them out of the medbay. "C'mon thermangel, let's get clean and get you into your bunk. You need to rest. I'll even stay with you to keep the bad dreams away."

"'Thermangel,'" Jaymie murmured, as they moved out into the hall, and smiled a gentle little smile. "I like that. Like that song. 'Earth Angel.' I think that's a better name than the one I got already."

Salu almost let her mouth gape open. Jo handled that better than Vi had thought she could. Surprises abound. But it was one more thing she wouldn't have to deal with.

Jan stood in the hall by the Medbay door and watched the two women walk away.

He frowned, sadly, on Jaymie's behalf, but it seemed that Ultra Girl had this well in hand. Perhaps her experience with urban warfare served her well in matters of "shell-shock."

He stepped through the medbay doors.

Glanced around.

Caroline and Garth were both looking... awkward.

"Valkyrie M3?" he murmured.

"'Not Ready For Prime Time,'" Garth shook his head, though he hated himself for suggesting it.

Element Lad nodded. "Oh, dear."

Vi nodded as Jan entered. She tilted her head towards the makeshift morgue. "Last rites?"



...in some part of VM3's skull, the organic computational component was still functioning.

And when Jo suggested "get clean," it dawned on Jaymie that she'd ralphed somewhat recently. As she walked, she clenched her teeth, and a burst of fire raged for an instant, just an instant, in her mouth, and when next she parted her lips she exhaled a puff of smoke. She'd sterlised her mouth, but she made a face, because now, now, her mouth tasted of soot.

Oh, well. Better the one thing than the other.

She leaned heavily on Jo's arm as Jo led her away, along the hall, to the lift, leaning her head on Jo's shoulder and smiling that gentle little smile, though her voice had an absent little sing-song quality to it: "Though. Really. If either of us here is an angel, it's you. Nice to me. An'. An' you're very pretty. (Did I never tell you that?) I always sussed you were pretty."

The lift doors slid closed and Jaymie closed her eyes, her head on Jo's shoulder.

Somewhere in Jo's head she'd noticed that Jaymie has shown signs of a crush. But Jo'd had her head so full of Tinya that she'd done nothing with that. And that wasn't going to change now. She was so not going to take advantage of Jaymie in this state. She was going to help her friend through this. Then, and only then, if Jaymie was still interested would Jo contemplate tumbling with her.

"You know I ain't no angel Jaymie. Just your friend. You're easy to be nice to thermangel. And you're prettier than me. Now just hush and let's get clean so we can tuck in. There's enough Legionnaires on shift that they can live without us for a few hours. We're way overdue for some shut eye."


Liz' face became a mask of fury and determination. I wish you were here. I am not twice bested so easily.

The Empress smiled a cold cold smile. "I have no doubt you and I will have a rematch dearie. But it will be on my terms."

Rond tried to keep his own face even, ready to fly to his mentor's defence, if need be: it made sense to him that if The Eye could beam a message in here, it could perhaps mount an attack, as well. The hits just keep on coming.

M'onel was standing close to Kid Quantum, and his voice was a murmur: "Jazmin. I haven't had a chance to recharge my solar cells. D'you think you can do a quantum flush, straighten me out?"

Jazmin digested this for a moment, her voice kept so low he had to use superhearing to catch it. "Probably could. No persp. But I can't promise The Empress wouldn't interpret that as a false move."

"Noted," M'onel nodded, quiet. "Wait for an opening. If she transmats in, becomes solid, she might have a moment of disorientation--"

"You got it," Jazmin nodded.

"That is terribly close to a move children." She raised her hand and Dawnstar tried but failed to hold back a scream as Validus gave her wings a slight twist and an obvious breaking of a bone in it.

And Brande narrowed his eyes.

Eyes, that just for an instant, were flaming red.

"Did someone order take out?" he whispered.

Perhaps fortunately for Brande's hidden self, the most of folks had their eyes on the projection.

"Not going to offer me a bribe old man?"

Including Ayla, whose jaw clenched such that she delivered her own bit of bad-assery through gritted teeth, sparks dancing 'round her eyes. "Take-out this cold's no good unless you put it through the microwave."

Cosmic Boy looked on as the Empress talked, his face grim.

"Get Fate, bring him here." He said, his voice scary among the hum of machenery in the room.

Kid Quantum keyed the omnicom in her Ring. "Fate."

"OK Empress, we are getting him. What do you want?"

No response. "Jonah."

No response. Jazmin frowned. "Link to last known location for Legionnaire Fate."

"What I want Legionnaire is something you cannot give me. Only Fate can give it to me. But fear not Cosmic boy, I do plan on visiting your homeworld soon enough. The armor of Magenta is on my list as well dear boy." Her smile told those assembled volumes of her intent.

Allana Lang - Arival..imminent...

Even as Ceriel turned and dove Allana climbed a moment longer. Booster off, thrusters off. She climbed on momentum alone. Twisting, belly up. Her face to the sky, the sun, the moon.

And she hit the sweet spot. The place between flight and fall.

She drifted.

Freefall.

Weightlessness.

She savored the eternal moment. Her first time in freefall on EARTH!! Probably her last as well.

And then gravity reasserted itself and she began to fall.

Reorienting with microbursts from thrusters she aimed at the ground. And then kicked it into gear. A rocket with a deathwish traveled slower than her. Within seconds she snapped through 6 sonic booms. Her speed passing beyond safety limits within the first fifteen seconds.

But she wasn’t worried. She’d survive a direct impact with a supernova. At least that was the theory behind Celestial level armour.

Rotating as she dove she aligned herself with Ceriel. Chest to chest. Face to face. Four point three seven centimeters separated them. Matching speed.

Her destination point locked.

The markings on her armour flared red, the blue vanishing. Overcome by something else. A wink to Ceriel. Or Allana was messing with her head. Then boosters kicked in and she shot like a bullet. Straight as a laser.

At thirty feet from impact she inverted and stopped. Her feet less than six inches from touchdown. As light as a butterfly she descended those last finite inches.

Element Lad. Medbay.

Salu almost let her mouth gape open. Jo handled that better than Vi had thought she could. Surprises abound. But it was one more thing she wouldn't have to deal with.

Vi nodded as Jan entered. She tilted her head towards the makeshift morgue. "Last rites?"

Jan nodded. "I am afraid, unlike dear dear Condo--"

--he hesitated at this, Condo had been a rare kind of tortured beautiful--

"--I am incapable of using my powers to accelerate the healing process of living patients. Instead, I would minister to the spirits of the departed. Obviously, if I am of hindrance to your own work, please, insist upon my exodus."

His footsteps were slow and methodical as he weaved between the medbeds to the poor dear fallen.

Quietly, he reviewed the talks and such he'd had with Amazers and Wanderers and Heroes alike. The individuals, not on any of those teams, still they had fallen side-by-side, and he had known these, too.

First he came to Dev-Em. His voice was soft, rhythmic, cool, like the mathematics of old Krypton. "Rao has preceded you into the darkness, Dev of The House of Em. His light, spanning billions of years, now shines on in eternity. Now shine you with Him as one of the lights in His new sky, your shortcomings in life seared away by the glory of your death. Rao be with you, Dev-Em, and His warmth keep you safe from Cythonna's chill grasp."

Jan's fingers gently touched Dev-Em's facial katra points.

Then, Tyroc.

"Troy Stewart, 'Scream of The Devil,' long distant son of St'Balla," Jan intoned, his voice subtly deeper now, with elements of a bass rumble evocative of one of Tyroc's own various bellows, "native of Marzal, you who cherished freedom and despised hypocrisy, you know that The Universe is infinite in splendour and ever and always full of suprises. Your own island, may it rest, turned so long on the shift of an impossibility. You go now into the realm of the impossible, to a place of infinite freedom, bereft of any judgement on appearance and culture and colour of skin. Champion of your people: sing you now with a new chorus."

He clasped Tyroc's hand. Closed his eyes for a moment of silence.

Then, Monstress.

This gave him pause.

There was something just so... wrong... about him standing over her remains like this. Like a memory, like an echo, but quickly it passed. Calm returned to him.

"Candi Pyponte-Le Parc III," he murmured, lifting the her great great hand and kissing the back of it, "of the Xanth Prime Le Parcs. Go with Valor..."

...and on and on. So many dead.

Dead but not gone.