Star City- Heroes of Tomorrow IC

[ChasNicollette]

"Another Brick in The Wall (Part II)," by Pink Floyd. (Chris/J'onn/Supergirl/Rose)

He emerged from Reach space in front of Chris/Red Beetle, and did two things instantly;

He deployed his Beetle wings, transparent but dense pieces of his armor, sending them flipping through the air and toward Kara and J'onn, attempting to cover J'onn with the shields.

The red android had just been hovering there since his materialization seconds ago, as though collating data. But as those wings whirled towards Supergirl and The Martian Manhunter, it flung out a hand peremptorily--

--and a massive crimson gust of wind blew them off course and left them quivering in the side of a building.

He also extended blades from his forearms, elbows, knees and heels, spinning like a tornado of steel toward Chris Grants face.

One of the few things that could easily penetrate Reach armor was, in fact, Reach armor. Whirling like a dervish, J'K'Ahaime scored hit after hit on Scarab!Grant even as Scarab!Grant twisted to evade, exposing flesh--

--a slash across the chest, across a shoulder, along one side, across a cheek, this one drew blood instantly, red welling to the surface of the now-bared patch of face.

With a cry of mingled effort and exultation, Scarab!Grant formed a circular sonic cannon at the center of his chest and fired--

--blasting himself back out of the radius of those blades even if it didn't knock J'K'Ahaime backwards as part of the bargain.

Surging up to one knee below, Kara's eyes flashed white and saffron, and heat vision spat from her gaze to drive like a dagger for the exposed region across Scarab!Grant's side-- but the rays of heat took a sudden sharp right before they got there, a ninety-degree turn, flat-out impossible, and then another turn, bam, corner-- and instead the beams stabbed into Martian Manhunter where he lay still sloughing off layers of ash, and he let out a roar of pain and dismay.

"Quite enough of that," Dr. Light chortled, swooping over them with his cape billowing in the sun. "You've got your own problems to deal with."

And then Solomon Grundy landed on the two weakened powerhouses with fists like worlds colliding, and all of Pittsburgh felt the impact. "GRUNDY SMASH."

High above, Scarab!Grant deployed blades like beetle-pincers and took on a defensive posture. Even as he did so, the places on his armor where J'K'Ahaime had scored through to skin melded shut as though healing rapidly. Then a shoulder cannon sprouted, pointing straight up, not at J'K'Ahaime-- and when it fired an egg-shaped object, the object immediately shimmered away into Reach Space.

There was that feeling again, like a depth charge underwater-- both Scarab!Grant and J'K'Ahaime would sense it--

"Localized spacetime crush," Scarab!Grant noted. "Should make Reach Space impassable for the time being, no more of that disappearing act. Wouldn't want The Reach to notice us, would we, hmm? Two off-mode Infiltrators in the same planetary locus? Oh, now, that would be counterproductive for everyone involved."

Yeah, while Grant had developed the ability to suppress ectype personality and simply access their powerset, Grant's Scarlet Scarab ectype had his own version of Khaji Da, far more psychotic than Jaime's own. While Grant had plenty of experience using this ectype on fields of battle far bigger, wilder, than Jaime had ever yet seen, he did not have the benefit of mental fusion that J'K'Ahaime had achieved-- and he knew that subtle but crucial processing lag would cost him dearly.

But if Chris Grant had ever been the type to give up easily, it had been long ago, and was no longer.

Sprouting spikes like a morningstar mace all over his body to go with the blades that had replaced his hands, he blasted back in at J'K'Ahaime, striking for J'K'Ahaime's throat, his heart, his brachial artery...

"I have to say," he remarked through gritted, grinning teeth, hacking, slashing, "you're not really holding up your end of the conversation. We could quote the Princess Bride swordfight? I do a great British accent, and I daresay your Spanish would sound better than Patinkin's."

Standing on that nearby rooftop, Rose watched all of this go down, aghast.

"Okay," she looked down at her watch, voice shaking more than a little, "major power levels here, I gotta get their backs, if ever there was a time for The Big R, it's now, you got me? C'mon Big R!"

The palm of her hand clapped down on the watch and the waiting H-rune.

SWOOOSH.

...and she was a tightly-slender woman with pale white hair and a streak of black, clad in an outfit of red and black.

"Hrnh," she grunted, in a sardonic, growly Canadian accent. "Not really the 'R' I was lookin' fer, ya useless flamin' timepiece."

The jepacking troll-thingies roared down Penn Avenue towards the fight with Supergirl and that big green guy she'd seen in pictures, but they already looked like they had their hands full.

"Still," she growled, and morphed into a creature of vibrant greens and brackish, muddy browns, thick veins and rippling, muscular skin, spiky flame-red hair, glaring, molten-ruby eyes, "this momma's always good fer a scrap, eh?"

She sprinted to the edge of the roof and dove over it, sprouting triune red thorny claw-blades from the backs of both hands. "I'm REDWOOD!"

All six of her claws stabbed through one parademon's helmeted skull as she landed on its back, but before it had even finished twitching to death and plunging earthward, Redwood had ripped the blades free and was whirling to leap to the next one--

--they whirled to engage her in dogfight, lasers and missiles streaming around her, and she SNRARRRRLED with the thrill of the kill and the fire in her chlorophyllic blood--

--blaster-bolts Swiss-cheesed her flora-fauna flesh but she kept coming, kept growing back as fast as they could weed-whack her, claws went into eyes, fingers tore at wings, at one point she snagged an RPG from the air and crammed it into one of their mouths before turning to dive clear of the explosion, sprouting palm-frond wings of her own--

--but then she found herself yanked out of her flight-path by an unexpected wind-shear, and she was face-to-face with that android, with the red pockmarked finish and the yellow arrow on his head, the yellow "T" on his chest, the eyes and mouth like expressionless, empty slots. He held an arm up and out, and he cast a whirlwind to suspend her in place in the air.

"Hey, Tin Woodsman," she spat, brandishing her claws, "I'm sendin' ya back t' Oz. In pieces!"

The android did not visibly react, but there came a sound like a recording rewinding, and then a hollow, metallic version of Dr. Light's voice replied: "Quite enough of that."

The whirlwind holding Redwood in place intensified, corkscrewing around her with hurricane force... and suspending her in an airless vacuum. Even though as a plant being, she inhaled carbon dioxide and exhaled oxygen, that didn't help her when there was no atmosphere at all.

Eyes bulging, she clutched at her throat, wheezing and gasping.

But the android continued. Cold. Implacable. Mechanical.

"You've got your own problems to deal with," Dr. Light's voice again echoed.

And then Redwood's body came apart at the seams, disintegrating into scraps...

...she didn't even have the air to roar one last, defiant time.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Gameplans and Game Faces. (Vixen/Artemis)

"Ms. McCabe, I want you to sincerely understand that I meant no such racially insensitive meaning. Honestly Miss, there are VERY few women of any race who can claim to look anything like you. Your beauty is far beyond what most could ever dream of my dear. However, as I said, you remind me so much of her. Down to your... accessories." Alfred gestured meakly at the Tantu Totem that hung from her neck, swaying tantalizingly just above her bust.

So help her, Mari couldn't help herself. "Unruffled" was Alfred's whole schtick-- either he was cool as a cucumber under fire or he was putting on upper-crust airs for Bruce's dinner guests. But seeing him on his back foot was just so priceless. "Relax, Alfie, keep calm and chive on, I'm just saying what I'd say to any fella of your generation who started the 'you people' crap. I know you're better than that. Still," and she smirked, "you better be careful where you point when you say 'accessories' after a pregnant pause."

"I have for some time wondered if there was a connection. I spent the best few years of my life in that village. Well, of my private life anyway. However, if things had not changed I would not have been blessed to come into the service of Master Thomas and would not have had the pleasure of raising Master Bruce. Neither of which I regret in the least you understand."

Mari quieted, and listened, no longer joshing with the elderly Brit-- she was allowed to poke fun at Englishmen, yeah? she was honorary Irish --but she didn't need animal senses to know this was no laughing matter.

Alfred thought cautiously for a moment.

"I owe a great debt to your family Miss McCabe. When I arrived in that village, I was lost. I was a monster. I had lost my way. It was your apparently Great Grandma that saved me. In more ways then one. I... well I believe maybe I have already said too much Miss..." Alfred's voice clearly cracked a bit as he spoke of his time in Ghana. For just a minute, the hardness in his eyes was gone. The strick posture of his stance had faultered, and it seemed he had been lost in memories, both pleasant, and not. Alfred leaned forward and softly embraced Mari once more. Gently as he pulled back, he stops and softly kisses her on her forehead. Something more dances behind his eyes. Something... different. An unspoken truth? A sense of loss and longing? It was hard to say what exactly dwelled in the vault that was the heart of this complex man. A vault that had been locked and all but forgotten for a very long time.

Gently as could be, quiet and warmly solemn, Mari touched him on the shoulder once more, wishing she could extend healing powers to Alfred's broken heart. It wasn't an Irish word, but it was Celtic by way of Wales-- hiraeth. That sense of loss ran as deep as any ocean trench.

"You're right, Alfie. You were right all along. We really do need to talk when this is over."

Nightwing is sitting at a desk in the other room for the moment. Working on rerouting the comms that the Bat-Family typically use. "We have an issue. They are jamming most modern means of communication. However, they can't really prevent radio communications. It just won't be secure. Anyone with a ham radio can pick it up. I had to override the digital tuner and some of the software to realign an analog reception override. It will work, and once we can get to one of the communication towers we can try to reestablish outside communication. In the meantime, this is what we are stuck with." Nightwing moves toward the group handing out earpieces attached to what looks similar to a Walkman. "Sorry, the box is a signal booster. Without it the signals here are so jumbled that we may or may not be able to get through all that noise. Venom, will you be able to... assimilate... this? Not sure how that works?"

He took the box and looked it over.

John detached the earpiece and handed it back to Nighwing, placing the signal booster inside his jacket where nobody had to see the assimilation happening...and with nobody he meant Artemis. She of course will know that it happened, but he didn't want to place more stress on her by doing it openly. For a brief moment he did wonder why he was so worried about her feelings.

Artemis had moved over to stand closer to Ollie once he'd left the armory vault, putting her own headset in her ear. She was intrigued that he'd picked up a utility belt; it was a curious look for him. In Gotham for five minutes, and he's already dressing like one of the locals.

She felt a little guilty that her first instinct still, after all these years of rehab, had been to go for a bladed weapon instead of a toolkit.

...and then there was "Agent" Venom. She appreciated his chivalry, really she did. Respecting her triggers, however inane. But it still annoyed her that her teammates had to take her weakness into account, especially a teammate that she wanted to respect her as well as maybe rock her world sooner rather than later.

'Mixed emotions' is a funny phrase. I don't think I've ever had an emotion that wasn't mixed.

"Ted and Barry are back at the Brownstone trying to work on a work around; Until they do, or we can get a tower and satellite array up and running, we are SOL. So, what I am thinking is that we send the ladies to check on Artemis' family. Venom, if you can take the communication array, Ollie and I will try to make contact with our allies in the city and take out as many Markov devices as we can. Did I miss anything?"[/COLOR]

Ollie grins as he appraises Nightwing. "Looks like you are a bit more of a team player than Bruce. You have a decent plan. Everyone good with assignments?"

"I'm good," Mari nodded. "Like any Swiss Army Knife worth its salt, I'll do whatever job you've got."

Not to mention making sure a girl's mom doesn't get murdered by roving bands of marauders is pretty high on my list of priorities.

Artemis bit her lip.

Aaaaand, oh, whole new mixture of emotions, that's fun.

On the one hand: she knew Vixen, knew Vixen was good people, and having actual super-powers handy would be a real load off of her mind.

But Artemis wasn't sure how she felt about looping Vixen in on the true nature of her family, and that was probably going to happen now whether she liked it or not.

But Artemis worked best with Ollie, as much like a well-oiled machine as Batman and Nightwing at their prime, by instinct and by inevitability.

But she wanted to get assigned with Venom-- because-- because reasons, okay? His suit remained squicky as Hell but they had some unfinished unfinishedness that needed finishing. And sometimes stakeouts led to makeouts.

But no. This made sense. If Artemis' mom's wheelchair was out of commission, they might need to carry her-- and Vixen could be legit superstrong.

"Perfect," she replied, as though she hadn't a care in the world.

Perfect, her inner voice then echoed a moment later, resigned and sarcastic.

"We will go secure comms, nice and stealthy, black ops all over again."

He felt that insane grin of the symbiote on his lips, "Perhaps even do a little wet work while we're at it."

Artemis stared at Venom for a moment, and then rolled her eyes, so quick to go back to the squick. "Oh, great. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water."

 

[Nevyn_Black]

High above, Scarab!Grant deployed blades like beetle-pincers and took on a defensive posture. Even as he did so, the places on his armor where J'K'Ahaime had scored through to skin melded shut as though healing rapidly. Then a shoulder cannon sprouted, pointing straight up, not at J'K'Ahaime-- and when it fired an egg-shaped object, the object immediately shimmered away into Reach Space.

There was that feeling again, like a depth charge underwater-- both Scarab!Grant and J'K'Ahaime would sense it--

"Localized spacetime crush," Scarab!Grant noted. "Should make Reach Space impassable for the time being, no more of that disappearing act. Wouldn't want The Reach to notice us, would we, hmm? Two off-mode Infiltrators in the same planetary locus? Oh, now, that would be counterproductive for everyone involved."

Yeah, while Grant had developed the ability to suppress ectype personality and simply access their powerset, Grant's Scarlet Scarab ectype had his own version of Khaji Da, far more psychotic than Jaime's own. While Grant had plenty of experience using this ectype on fields of battle far bigger, wilder, than Jaime had ever yet seen, he did not have the benefit of mental fusion that J'K'Ahaime had achieved-- and he knew that subtle but crucial processing lag would cost him dearly.

But if Chris Grant had ever been the type to give up easily, it had been long ago, and was no longer.

Sprouting spikes like a morningstar mace all over his body to go with the blades that had replaced his hands, he blasted back in at J'K'Ahaime, striking for J'K'Ahaime's throat, his heart, his brachial artery...

"I have to say," he remarked through gritted, grinning teeth, hacking, slashing, "you're not really holding up your end of the conversation. We could quote the Princess Bride swordfight? I do a great British accent, and I daresay your Spanish would sound better than Patinkin's."

Inside the head of the Blue Beetle, a conversation was happening, a consideration of options. This was happening in half formed thoughts faster than any humans.

Khaji Da: "Any technology or tactic that we use against him, will have the same-"

Jaime: ""-Effect on us. Might be worth it, just to stop him?

Khaji Da: "There is no guarantee that we CAN stop him. Merely delay-

Jaime: -"Which may be what he's doing here in the first place-"

Khaji Da: "-Agreed. Suggest we try to reprogram his Scarab."

Blue Beetle almost sighed, both personalities not liking this option.

"Sorry if we're being a little quiet, we were talking to ourselves. You Do have good taste in movies, though. Got to destroy you now."

J'K'Ahime waded into Grant, deploying his own pincers and locking them with Grant/Red Beetle's. He held on tight and released new limbs from his back, that whipped around and stabbed into Grant/Red's sides and back, locking them together more firmly, the feelers reaching for the Scarab on his back, J'K'Ahime's thoughts attempting to invade those of the other Reach Infiltrator.

If nothing else, this would keep both of them occupied for a while.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Another Brick in The Wall (Part III)," by Pink Floyd. (Chris/J'onn/Supergirl/Rose)

"Sorry if we're being a little quiet, we were talking to ourselves. You Do have good taste in movies, though. Got to destroy you now."

J'K'Ahime waded into Grant, deploying his own pincers and locking them with Grant/Red Beetle's. He held on tight and released new limbs from his back, that whipped around and stabbed into Grant/Red's sides and back, locking them together more firmly, the feelers reaching for the Scarab on his back, J'K'Ahime's thoughts attempting to invade those of the other Reach Infiltrator.

If nothing else, this would keep both of them occupied for a while.

Alarm trilled through Scarab!Grant's dual consciousness as those feelers locked into internal access ports, attempting to penetrate Anti!Khaji's Infiltrator coding as might a Reachware override.

Both Grant and his Scarab put up fierce resistance, but J'K'Ahime presented a united front, capable of coordinating responses that Scarab!Grant and Anti!Khaji could scarcely anticipate as cooperating individuals.

This was bad. This was very bad. Either a reprogrammed Anti!Khaji would be cured of its psychosis, and become as much a goody-two-shoes antiestablishmentarianist as Reyes' Khaji, or a fully-rebooted Anti!Khaji would come back on-mode and kill its host in the process of restarting, namely Grant.

"'I would sooner,'" Scarab!Grant grimaced, managing a pretty solid Cary Elwes impression despite the effort of such desperately overclocked processing speeds' manifesting physically, "'destroy a stained-glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me, either...'"

********​

Grundy's fist cracked into J'onn's chin so hard it blew off the last of the layer of ash and sent him skidding backwards, his boots scraping trenches in the cratered surface of Penn Avenue. "Hrrrnnnh!"

Supergirl lurched to her feet and doubled up her fists to bring them crashing down on the back of Grundy's head-- but before she could land the blow, energy shimmered around her body, and with that energy, came agony that brought her back to her knees-- "Naaaaannnh!"

Dr. Light giggled as he hovered above Supergirl with both hands outstretched. "Oh, how I've longed to tangle with you, my dear. So much light shuttered away in your pretty little cells-- waiting for me to bend and stretch it. I can just draw it out of you like this, shuffle those photons like playing cards--" --a long tendril of white light rose out of her like a magician's knotted handkerchiefs-- "--or I can turn them into red sunlight and throw them right back into your face!" --and so the light took on a dark, ruddy glow, and bombarded back down upon Supergirl, and she groaned, unable to rise under her own weight. Ordinarily, red sunlight would take longer to deplete her, but her reserves of yellow sunlight had been weakened by Light and by Kryptonite... Light mused lecherously: "Of course, when I said I wanted to play with your body, this isn't what I had in mind, but it'll do for now."

...and then Grundy whirled from the off-balance J'onn and put the sole of his bare, marble-pale foot into Supergirl's face, kicking her so hard into a building that it folded around her like cards.

"Away from her!" J'onn roared, lurching back into the fray, diving to grab Grundy and hurl him as many hundreds of miles as it took to get him into an unpopulated area...

...but then Light swung his hand out at J'onn and unleashed a concentrated bolt of infrared light, not unlike Supergirl's heat vision, bolstered with a hardlight confinement beam. Again seared to his core, J'onn staggered...

..and then, giggling once more, Light conjured a holographic illusion to roar up around J'onn, glowing and flowing and crackling with heat. He surrounded J'onn with a light-construct forest fire and J'onn groaned on his knees with primal horror and dismay.

"I don't need some mysterious Ninth Ray to defeat you, Martian," Light chortled, "while Grundy has his turn with her."

********​

The android watched the fragments of Redwood soar like leaves on the wind, and then glanced up to find Scarab!Grant locked in combat with The Blue Beetle. He raised his own hand to come to The Supervillain Dialer's aid, to summon a torrential gale against Jaime Reyes, perhaps throw him off-balance for long enough that Scarab!Grant might gain the upper pincer.

But as the android lifted his hand, he noticed a four-leaf clover sprouting from his shoulder.

Nonplussed, the android plucked this off with dented metal fingertips and flicked it aside.

Immediately, a row of clovers sprouted on the length of the android's forearm. It hesitated, tore these away with a brush of his hand.

In response, a patch of ivy sprouted on the android's chest, looping a vine around that brushing hand, trying to entangle it-- but the android was strong as steel, and the ivy had the fragility of plant life, this was easily snapped. But when the vine tore away, a dozen more sprung up in its place-- braiding and looping and forcing the android to tear at these, too.

It was not unlike Hexxus' defeat in "Ferngully," as the android became increasingly entangled and increasingly frenetic in tearing away the vines--

--after a processing delay, it realized that it could simply suck the carbon dioxide away from itself, as it did not require atmosphere to function, but even as the ivy had entangled, a fine layer of moss had begun crawling up the android's chassis, making its way up towards the android's face--

--and as the wind whipped into a frenzy around the android in order to siphon away life-giving gas, the moss seeped up to those open empty slots that were the android's mouth and eyes, spread like wildfire into the android's internals.

The android made a stuttering noise, clawed helplessly at its own face, as though it were trying to cry out but had no voice of its own-- and none of its recorded dialogue was sufficient to express the sheer mechanical astonishment--

--and then SHRANK six thorn-claws stabbed out from the android's chestplate, stabbed out from the inside, three above the yellow "T" that adorned that chest, three below--

"Ut," the android stuttered. "Ut-ut-ut-ut--"

The claws retracted again, vanished. And SHRANK they stabbed out again, this time three on either side of that "T," perforating a circle around that emblem.

And then the claws snapped back in--

--and an arboreal fist punched its way out through that perforated chest, a fist clutching a carbon-steel alloy pump.

The android crumpled to the roadbed far below, the wind dying around it.

The fist was at the end of an arm, and the arm grew up out of the hole in the android's chest like a sapling under time-lapse, swelling and growing up into--

--Redwood, hale and whole and healed.

"Hrrrnh," she growled, tossing the pump to herself like a baseball. "Whaddaya know. Tin Woodsman had a heart all along."

"Ut," the android twitched. "Ut... ut... ut."

"Bah, kwitcherbitchin', Aangdroid," Redwood harrumphed, stepping away from the android's failing body and absently lobbing the "heart" at it, bouncing it off of the android's forehead. "Airbenders're s'posed ta be vegetarians, eh?"

The android stopped twitching.

And then--

BOOM

--another of those teleportals yawned wide underneath the deceased android in the road, sucked it down and away, and irised shut again.

BOOM

--and yet another opened in the sky over Redwood's head, depositing another payload of parademons. Before there had been six. Now there were twelve. With parademons... there was always more.

Redwood grimaced.

And popped her claws again.

"Beauty, eh?" she snarled. "C'mere, then."

********​

Analysis! Grant demanded internally.

[Intrusion counter-measures at critical levels,] Anti!Khaji snapped.

Eviscerate him! Slag him with plasma! Or at least another sonic attack to drive him off! Didn't you say a precisely tuned sonic blast of 27 angstroms at maximum decibels--

[Insufficient processing power remains to manifest physical counterattack. Full resources diverted to reinforcing code-barriers.]

Damned if we do, fucked if we don't.

[Affirmative.]

But then Grant hesitated, there in that headspace. ...damned...

Khaji Da! he demanded, If he wants our code so badly, I say we give it to him.

The fraction of Anti-Life that The Master embedded in me, the one I used to temporarily rob my daughter of her free will. Could we upload that to Reyes' Infiltrator like we would have uploaded the virus to corrupt this Earth's Dials?

[Processing.]

[...hypothetically.]

[An inherent incompatability may exist between The Jaime Reyes' Infiltrator and Apokoliptian base code, just as this unit is incompatible with New Genesian Source code. Difficult to predict, given differences between parallel universes, but hypothetically possible. Insufficient to permanently corrupt or cripple The Jaime Reyes or his Infiltrator, but they may have to detach from us in order to excise the malware.]

DO IT!

[Compliance.]

[Isolating code.]

[...uploading.]

 

[Lunaramblings]

As the teams began readying for their assigned tasks, Alfred had once more disappeared. Arriving again just as the teams were ready to go. He approached Mari with a stern look.

We will have that talk young lady. But I know better than most what you and these boy are about to run into. I have grown quite fond of Miss Artemis even if like Ollie and Bruce she hasn't quite found her inner piece yet. Please, keep her safe. But I have one favor. While I was in Ghana, I was badly wounded. A very large piece of scrapnel had pierced my body and the woman I spoke of, she healed me. Physically and more. But here family, they made a gift for me from that shard. I have worn it ever since and I would like if you would take it tonight. A token of good luck and maybe of things yet to come." Alfred produced a sizable hand crafted metal anklet from behind his back. There were several images carved on the piece, most prominently a very familiar fox, but also a very intricate Fruit Bat that Mari may recognize as a symbol from her homeland. Pardon the pun Miss, but before I went and joined less scrupulous groups I was a, no pun intended, BAT-man in the British Military. When one of my men called me Bat, a nickname that know seems very foretelling, your mother's family assumed it was my totem. I suppose it is. There is supposed to be great power in the combining of Totems. I would appreciate if you would take this. A promise of our future conversation."

Without waiting for a reply Alfred set the Anklet/Armband on the table by her and moved decisively to Artemis.

Young Miss. Gone was the forlorn and wounded old man. Back was the stern headmaster and authoritarian. "You will be safe. You and I know well enough that your family is more than capable of defending themselves. Have heart." These were not suggestions or questions. They were statements. Ones he clearly intended were understood and followed. As he began to brush by again not waiting for a response he spoke ever so softly, a whisper meant for Artemis alone.

"You have come far. You were lost once. And in many ways you still are. But you have true loving family now. Never forget that. And never forget that you are not your parents. And as one that knows deeply, darkness can be purged, but only if you allow in the light." Alfred gently squeezed her arm as he slipped by. He made no attempt to wait for anyone to reply or engage him but slipped back into the darkness of the inner recesses of the cave. Disappearing like his ward was so known to do.

Ollie stood back and watched as so much unfolded. He had been through many dark situations, but this was especially bad. Half the city was in ruin. He silently cursed and blamed himself. He had allowed this to happen. If he had taken Nyssa's life when he was given the chance so many lives may have been saved. He knew how Felicity felt about his guilt and for many years she had been his guide, his beacon back to humanity and love. But he couldn't at times like this assign the blame to himself.

Ollie straightened up and slid his bow from his back. "Listen. I know everyone here is among the best of the best. If I didn't have faith in you I would not have called you in. We do have a few assets in the city. Barb had come home last week to visit. Steph left just before the city fell, sent word she was using the tunnels to sneak in. We need to connect with them. You all be safe. I will not accept any of you being a martyr. Stay tight. Be careful. And above all, everyone comes home." Ollie slid his mask in place, and his stance, his glare, his every mannerism was no longer the loving husband and rebuilder of broken heroes. He was now The Arrow. He was what Gotham needed him to be. Oliver would have to sit this one out.

The Arrow and Nightwing mount matching black vehicles similar to motorcycles but clearly designed for more than cruising the streets. With a roar of the engines and that familiar roar from under the green hood The Arrow speaks, "Let's go!"

::::: STAR CITY. :::::​

"I said no guys. Look you have a great amount of power in whatever it is you have become, but until you can learn to use it I am not letting you go out there. Those are some heavy hitters. Let Supergirl and her friends handle it." The Guardian stood in the middle of one of the training dojos Sarah and Billy before him in their training gear.

"Dad, they are getting clobbered out there! We need to help!"

"I said no. Now get ready. We are going to run back through the drill again."

Billy looked broken hearted as he watched on the small screen in the wall as the fight with Supergirl and the others played out. Finally when he saw Redwood get torn asunder by that mechanical thing he made his decision.

Since their transformations Billy and Sarah found that they no longer needed to really talk to one another. They just knew what the other was planning or thinking. Without a word the two take their positions and begin the drill they were running through.

As they began dodging and weaving the blows and the tazer rounds the two kids lock eyes. With out a word they nod and together whisper, "SHAZAM!" As Lightning manifests from nowhere, the two kids are suddenly no longer their small underaged selves, but transformed into twenty-something power houses. Without waiting for her father to respond, Sarah flies forward delivering a solid right cross to his jaw. His helmet off he has no protection from the power of the strike. As he crumples Sarah looks down sadly.

"Sorry Daddy. We got these for a reason. No way are we standing down. Billy, let's go!" without a word the duo clasp hands and blur through the building taking off with the speed of Mercury.

::::ITTSBURGH::::​

In mere seconds the Mighty Marvels had crossed the nation. They moved with speed beyond that which most could even imagine. It took them mere moments to arrive but it took a second to recognize what had transpired. They were just in time to see Redwood pulling herself out of the downed android. They drew a collective sigh of relief as they hovered in near orbital heights above the battle. Trying desperately to determine who most needed their help. Without speaking the streak off in separate directions.

Billy shoots from near orbit with all the force he can manage as he crashes into Grundy, spinning his mass as he grabs onto him, throwing him hard over his shoulder, using all that momentum. Driving him down with the strength of Hercules, into the ground. The ground tremoring and a crater forming as dust, dirt and debri is sent high into the air.

Sarah meanwhile, shoots from her near orbital perch, pushing herself harder and harder. Groaning with exertion she cocks back her right fist and brings it thudding toward Light's face.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Superman's Song," by Crash Test Dummies. (Grundy/Light)

In mere seconds the Mighty Marvels had crossed the nation. They moved with speed beyond that which most could even imagine. It took them mere moments to arrive but it took a second to recognize what had transpired. They were just in time to see Redwood pulling herself out of the downed android. They drew a collective sigh of relief as they hovered in near orbital heights above the battle.

Once upon a time, there had been a man named Cyrus Gold, an orphan, a brother to Brother Blood-- an Acolyte. He had been injected with a miracle drug called Mirakuru, and had survived with strength beyond any normal man.

But then The Arrow had bested him in combat, exploded a centrifuge full of Mirakuru serum in his face, collapsed a roof on him. That had been December 11, 2013, and kind of a lot had happened since then.

He had been found in the rubble, dug out, buried on the orphanage's old burial plot-- and on the following Monday, whether by chemical enhancement or some sort of supernatural intervention, he awoke and dug himself out of that grave. Lurching across the country, near-mindless, like he was slouching towards Bethlehem to be born, he migrated East as though drawn by some compulsion.

It wasn't until he reached the borders of Gotham City, New Jersey that he allowed himself to stop. And when he stopped, he sunk into the muck of Slaughter Swamp, and there he was changed. An elemental metamorphosis-- earth, air, fire, water-- but corrupted by astral influences and by the poisonous chemicals in his blood, and by the toxins given off by Gotham herself.

And again, on a Monday, he rose from the swamp, reborn-- as Solomon Grundy.

Many times over the years he had been slain, destroyed, broken, only ever to rise again from the swamp on the following Monday-- each time a different version of himself, a different Grundy. Different strengths, different intelligences, different personalities-- always Grundy, yet always different.

But still he remembered, through a shattered glass darkly, that explosion-- that rubble.

And dimly he remembered it now, as Light burned The Martian behind him with holographic flames, as he dug with bare, marble-white hands through the collapsed building, searching for The Girl of Steel that he might beat the rest of the life out of her.

Billy shoots from near orbit with all the force he can manage as he crashes into Grundy, spinning his mass as he grabs onto him, throwing him hard over his shoulder, using all that momentum. Driving him down with the strength of Hercules, into the ground. The ground tremoring and a crater forming as dust, dirt and debri is sent high into the air.

This Grundy was powerful. Powerful enough to rattle the bones of Supergirl, powerful enough to throw even the impossibly mighty Martian Manhunter onto his back foot. But the Strength of Hercules was literally the stuff of mythology-- The Speed of Mercury-- The Power of Zeus--

--getting hit with a sub-orbital wrestling slam would be enough to ruin anyone's day, and the world whirled around Solomon Grundy, and as a tectonic plate practically buckled under the impact of his body thrown to The Earth--

--he wondered if he were dying again.

He lay there, staring up at the sky for a long, long moment, and quietly groaned...

"BORN..."

"...BORN... ON A MONDAY."

But then his hands bunched into fists, and he surged to his feet, and he dove for Captain Marvel with those massive chiseled hands outstretched, ready to shake the life out of this new threat--

"GRUNDY KILL BIG RED CHEESE MAN!"

Sarah meanwhile, shoots from her near orbital perch, pushing herself harder and harder. Groaning with exertion she cocks back her right fist and brings it thudding toward Light's face.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Arthur Light.

He was a very, very bad man. So bad that even Hunter Zolomon in the guise of Harrison Wells didn't especially feel like putting up with him, so Wells fired him from S.T.A.R. Labs. But as bad a man as he was, he was so very very good with his namesake light. Once, he had created a weapon that could generate energy blasts-- but before long, he had developed a way to internalize that energy, to become a metahuman.

And, being a very bad man, he did not use his powers with great responsibility.

And he giggled delightedly as The Martian Manhunter wrothe in fear and pain under the light of the image of fire...

...but then the light of true fire glowed in the sky as the atmosphere ignited around Mary Marvel, and Doctor Light sensed this like alarm bells in the fabric of his being.

With a grrrrooaaar of fury and dismay, Light drew the power of the Martian's holographic conflagration torture chamber back to himself, tapped hard into the massive reserves of the Kryptonian woman that had just been kicked into a nearby building, all the power at his disposal he dragged it to himself with a desperate yell...

...swirling impossibly dense, impossibly bright hardlight forcefields around himself, Light threw up his arms over his head in a vain attempt to block that punch...

...Mary Marvel's fist popped that forcefield like a soap bubble and sent Light spiraling to the ground below...

...his ability to fly on electromagnetic forces was the only thing left to brake his descent and even then it barely kept him from splattering into a smear of blood and bonedust. But kept him it did, and he snapped glaring eyes open from there in a heap on shattered, cratered Penn Avenue and he flung up a hand at Mary Marvel...

...leaching, leeching the light away from her optic nerves, effectively blinding her.

She could hit like a Kryptonian, this one, like a Martian, but she couldn't hit what she couldn't see!

Oh, but he could see her.

And he leered up at her, even as he coughed and groaned in his ache, he leered. "Oh, look at you. Look at you, what a prize you are. Supergirl, she's quite the doll, but she's a bit old for me... you... you're not quite too old just yet... you're just perfect."

 

[ChasNicollette]

"It Has Begun," by Starset.

25 Years Ago: A.D. 2000.
Starling City, Washington.
********​

It had been a beautiful drive home on a beautiful misty night with a beautiful blonde woman-- the one true love of his life, Tess Morgan.

But then the tires had, without the slightest warning, exploded out from under the car, the car had fishtailed wildly, rolled--

--and the car, just like Harrison Wells' world, had turned upside-down and slid to a stop.

The pain was excruciating, there as he dangled from his seatbelt, trying desperately to get a glimpse of Tess, to see if she was all right-- to assess her injuries-- she was staring sightlessly--

"Oh no, oh no," he hyperventilated, breathing her name-- but then through a broken passenger-side window he saw a pair of fine shoes step over broken glass.

The promise of salvation rushed up his spine-- "Oh thank God--" and he begged for help even as a stern, vaguely intrigued blond gentleman leaned into view.

--but almost immediately, an intelligent man, Harrison Wells realized something was wrong. The blond man simply stared with that vague fascination as Tess dangled, "What are you doing? Call someone!"

"CAN'T YOU SEE SHE'S DYING?"

The blond man looked at Harrison Wells as though he were an intellectual curiosity, an exhibit in a museum for children. "This woman has been dead for centuries."

Harrison stared at the blond man, stunned to silence, panting in his agony and bewilderment: these were the words of a madman, someone who had had a complete break with reality.

The car crash was over-- but this man-- this terrifying man-- Tess and Harrison's danger had just begun--

--and summoning all the strength in his lungs, Harrison screamed out this dawning horror: "HEEELLLLLLLP!"

After a few moments of struggle, Wells managed to scramble out through his own broken window, only to find the blond man looming over him, waiting.

As Wells struggled to rise, the blond man took hold of his lapels and bodily shoved him down again-- he had the strength to reflect his insanity, and Wells staggered a good few feet before falling.

Fight-or-flight resounded in Wells' brain, dulling some of the pain, but he was not a man of action, he was a loving idealist who dwelt not in darkness, all of this was incomprehensible to him... when he fell, he could not immediately rise.

Panting in the cold Pacific Northwest air, he demanded to know, demanded traction, demanded data: "Who... who... who are you?"

Methodically, the blond man crouched down over the fallen scientist and replied: "My name is... Eobard Thawne. But that name doesn't matter, not anymore, and it won't matter for many years. The only thing that really matters is who you are. ...Harrison Wells."

Harrison stammered, shaking his head with incredulity: "What-- what are you talking about, I don't understand--"

"Thawne" interrupted with the air of a somewhat impatient kindergarten teacher trying to explain why not to eat glue to a petulant child: "In the year 2020, you and your--" he glanced at the overturned vehicle nearby, and took a small device out of his pocket, using the next term with a dash of irony and derisiveness, "--wife, Tess Morgan, successfully launched a particle accelerator that changed the course of history, I need it to happen a bit sooner if I'm going to get back. Much sooner."

Thawne stood, calmly arranging the segments of the device in his hands.

Harrison squinted, still trying to understand something that defied understanding: "What is that?"

Thawne gazed down at him. "My way home."

Sirens started to echo in the distance, SCPD.

"You see," Thawne continued, indicating those sirens as Wells struggled up to a kneeling position, "they're not coming to save you. They're coming to save me." He detached the two halves of the device, two ends connected by a cable, and reached the protrusion of one end for Wells' chest, stabbing it into Wells' flesh.

Crying out, Wells knelt there in astonishment and agony, and Thawne took a deep breath, steeled himself, and plugged the other end into his own chest.

They were locked, then, in some bizarre kind of biotechnological circuit-- pain swelled in both of them, both of them roared with agony, but Wells' pain had heartache and uncomprehension, Thawne's had the air of triumph, of a stratagem paying off--

--and the very life sucked out of Harrison Wells, his body breaking down in mere moments, folding to the ground as his skin flaked and his muscles atrophied, he looked like a horrific burn victim who had been dead for months--

--and Eobard Thawne just as rapidly metamorphosed into the spitting mirror image of Harrison Wells.

Wells!Thawne let out a rush of breath. And slowly smiled as those sirens grew closer.

But then, behind him--

BOOM

--he whirled in surprise.

A brown-haired man stood in an identical outfit to Wells!Thawne, brown-haired but with red eyes. With him was a pale, slender, shorter man in a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up to cover the top of his head.

Wells!Thawne narrowed his own eyes. "Zolomon. Jones. Where--?"

"Usssss," Zolomon drawled, in that bizarre mode of speech he had, drawn out one minute and jumbled together the next. "Here."

And then with a burst of Zolomon's own superspeed, he snagged the device from the chest of Harrison Wells, snagged the other end from Wells!Thawne, and was back where he had been standing in less than an eyeblink.

Wells!Thawne's eyes widened, and then comprehension dawned, he took a step back with a narrow gaze. "You're trying to replace me. Why? What purpose could this possibly serve you-- I just want to get home!"

"Yyyyyoooouuuuu willfailmiserably," Zolomon dismissed, "Eraseyourownexistence."

"TheMasterhasmoreefficientuseofthis tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmefraaaaaaaaaaaammmmmme."

Wells!Thawne grimaced. "You'll never pull it off. You're just a psychologist, Hunter. I have knowledge of 22nd Century Sciences that you cannot dare to dream of, I have future historical knowledge--" his eyes darted to the fellow in the hoodie, Jones, who had been smirkingly silent all this time. "--ah."

Jones chucked back his hood, revealing that the top of his skull had been replaced with a translucent dome, showing off his brain.

Thrusting out a pale hand, fingers spread, Jones intoned imperiously, sadistically: "Psimon Says: reveal your secrets!"

Screaming as his mind turned inside out within his own brain, Wells!Thawne sank to his knees, fists white-knuckled at his sides-- with his superspeed, he'd be able to accelerate his thought processes and prevent even Psimon from taking hold of them, but here and now he was powerless to stop the psychokinetic puppetmaster, all he could do was roar in defeat and defiance-- "NNnnnnAAAHhhhh!"

And Psimon turned his other hand towards Zolomon's brow. "Psimon Says: remember."

Zolomon closed his eyes and smirked faintly as the future speedster's memories, personality traits, vast intellect xeroxed itself into his own mind. Plans unfolded, a timetable of a decade and a half...

"Wwwwwwwwoooooooooorrrrrmhoooooollllllles," Zolomon tutted. "Wasteofgoodhydrogenmolecules. Iprefertoendthingsinfire. Turrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrn CentralCityintoacrucibleandburnawaytheweaknessofman, atributetoTheMaster's fffffffffffiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrepiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitsssssssss. PostApokoliptic. Iwillcreateheroestoburnbrightlyinhislight, a Flaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssshhhhhpoooiiiiinnnnnt."

"Sounds positively balmy," Psimon drawled.

Panting just like Wells in more ways than one, Wells!Thawne seethed and heaved on his hands and knees, glaring up at the two of them, zeroing in on Zolomon. "Time is fluid," he reminded them, "and The Bleed has a long memory. I'll be back. I'll always come back. And you'll regret this. In a way, it's appropriate that you're using the Plastomorph on me-- you always were just a copy of a copy, 'Reverse-Flash.'"

"Iprefer," Zolomon corrected him-- and then in an eyeblink the device had stabbed Wells!Thawne in the chest, and the other end was in Zolomon's, and Zolomon leered in Wells!Thawne's face as the device took hold, "'Zoooooooooooooom.'"

Then the screaming started-- cries drowning out the still-nearing sirens. Then Wells!Thawne's corpse crumpled beside that of the man he'd dopplegangered,

And Hunter Zolomon was Thawne, and was Wells.

"Interesting," Wells!Thawne!Zolomon mused, looking down at his hands, hearing Thawne's scientific acumen in his head, "if he'd had his Speed Force powers his metabolism might even have enabled him to survive the Plastomorphic process. But because the Plastomorph so perfectly copied his cells, I've inherited that loss of speed. No matter, I have the skills and knowledge now to circumvent this once the dimensional barriers have been sufficiently breached."

Extending his hand, Psimon exerted telekinesis to lift the corpse of Wells!Thawne. "Desaad will no doubt want to experiment on this one. Even a dead superspeedster would be fascinating to him, maybe he'll pump Speed Force electricity through him and watch the muscles twitch, I get the appeal. But he'll have no use for the flayed meatbag of a powerless terrestrial intellect."

Wells!Thawne!Zolomon waved dismissively. "I'll dump him in a shallow grave, just as Thawne would have. A man of science should appreciate the expediency and lack of ceremony. You had better leave, however, unless you wish to erase your presence from the memories of the police officers soon to arrive."

Psimon made a face. "Ugh, such putrid, provincial thoughts. Not worth the effort. Goodbye, Hunter. Best of luck playing the long game. All is One."

"Yes," Wells!Thawne!Zolomon nodded, turning back to the damaged vehicle as

BOOM

Psimon and the body disappeared behind him in a gaping hole of spacetime that immediately slammed shut after them.

"All is One."

Mere moments later, a police cruiser screeched to a halt near Wells' overturned, shattered car.

Two officers exited the cruiser, a white male and a black female, and the male spoke into his shoulder radio: "I got an 11-80, possible 10-54, County Road J, requesting immediate assistance."

The black female officer hesitated as she saw a slender, dark-haired man clambering out of the wreckage. "Sir, we're gonna get you outta here, just-- can you tell me your name? Do you know who you are?"

It was a more complicated question than she could possibly imagine. And when the man paused, it was as much out of a genuine sense of amusement at the different identities he had to sort through to answer as it was an ironic sense of dramatic timing, Method acting. But when the pause passed, he breathed, full of portent and realization: "My name... is... Harrison Wells."

 

[Lunaramblings]

The Marvels had only had their new found power for a few weeks but in that time they had worked hard to learn all they could. And what they had learned was that they always seemed to have a connection to that "other" side. Whatever form they took, they shared a mind. Sometimes Sarah and Billy would be in charge, and sometimes Mary and Cap but there was always a link.

Sarah and Billy had become even closer. Because with this link there was also a link to one another. It wasn't exactly Telepathy, but it was almost like at times they were just one. And sometimes they would have the strangest feelings that they couldn't explain. Feelings that must have come from their other-selves. Just the other day Sarah had, for no reason she knew, kissed Billy. She was as surprised as he was. But then, when they were the other them, it made sense.

It was in this same way now that the mind of Sarah was in the back of Mary's mind. Mary, hearing the lecherous tone of Light balked. She reached for Sarah mentally. Pushing her away. Pushing her mind firmly back into the Rock of Eternity, and locking it away. Then everything went dark.

"Hrrraaaaahhhhh!!!!" For a brief second panic set in. Mary clawed at face, trying to figure out what was happening. But it took only a second. Between the speed of Mercury and the Wisdom of Solomon she put two and two together. With Sarah gone, Mary lacked part of her very soul. An understanding of this reality. But it also meant she wasn't afraid of scaring or hurting her other, much younger self. With a deep breath Mary lowers her hands, and changes her posture. Now crouched in a defensive stance she listens intently. "Clever. But you have no idea what your messing with. You wanna play you lecherous freak, lets do this."

Mary knew this was an uphill battle. But she had more than just muscles. Among the many powers granted by the 6 Mythical Gods that empower her, are a sense of Clairvoyance, Divine Grace, and an Eidetic Memory. In her mind she pictured the area perfectly and listened for his movement. She only hoped her Gods were smiling on her today.

Nearby Cap was recovering from his dive. Only to feel a grip like Death itself. He could feel the air being crushed out of his lungs. And Billy was in the back of his mind panicking! Oh crap! Oh CRAP! He's gonna strangle us! Captain Marvel laughed in his mind, which only seemed to worry Billy more. Billy was frantic and gibbering about dying having only been kissed once! Billy. Chill. Billy, when I am in control, we don't need to breathe. I got this. But it might get ugly. Mind if I take over for a bit?" Billy agrees and his consciousness is shunted to the Rock and cut from the scene unfolding.

Billy and Sara's souls and mind are both within the rock. Fretting and worrying. Sara regretting she let Mary take over. And they begin freaking out properly.

With Billy safe, Captain Marvel grins into the face of the monster Grundy. "Wow, Seriously! Breath mints... HRRRAAAAANNNNNNHHHH." Billy screams as he feels even his super heroic form finally crumple under the might of Grundy. His sternum is crushed and his ribs begin to pop. Marvel, struggling to breathe, drives his forehead into Grundys face so fiercely that it creates a sonic boom in the process. As Grundy loosens his hold ever so slightly, Marvel sucks in a breathe and calls to the sky...

"SHAZAM!! A bolt of Golden energy shoots from the sky and drives into the body of Grundy.

 

[Lunaramblings]

:::::GOTHAM:::::​

Having left the cave behind The Arrow and Nightwing have moved into position outside a large apartment building. One that is miraculously still standing. Taking up an entire block, this is one of the largest housing developments outside the slums of the Narrows. It is also where Stephanie and mother currently reside.

"I don't think she would have left her mother unattended and I am hoping Barbara thought to come here and hold down the fort. Lets check it out."

The Arrow nods and draws his bow as Nightwing levels his grappling, both aiming for the roof. As they arrive at the edge of the roof, they peer over cautiously only to find exactly what they hoped. Robin and Batgirl are standing at a telescope looking into the night sky toward the other side of the city.

"About time you show up. We have trouble."

Nightwing and Arrow vault over the roof and walk to the girls. "Thanks Captain Obvious. So, fill me in. All we have is the news reports."

"I got here right after the first major collapse. Then half the city went down. The gangs haven't been too bad yet. I talked to Gordon earlier. Apparently Joker and Penguin have cut a deal with him. They want to help can you believe that?"

Nightwing looked very concerned at the mention of Joker. And when he heard Penguin mentioned he couldn't help but shoot a glance to Robin to check her reaction. For her part she was maintaining a cool detachment. But he knew how she must be feeling.

"We came via the bay. Its a shanty town out there. I don't like the idea of working with those two, but sometimes when you go against the league you have to trust the Devil you know. Trust me."

"We have a small team in town. Artemis and Vixen are going to pick up her mom and we have someone working on a signal relay. Why didn't you guys reach out to Alfred? He was worried."

"Sorry. My mom... she... she..." Robin- Stephanie takes a deep shuddering breath. "Her hospital went down. I can't find her. I didn't want to leave in case she came home."

Nightwing stopped and crossed over Robin and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"As soon as we get relays up I will make a call. Get someone on it. I promise. I lost my mother because of what I am. I know that fear. Use it. Punish these men for what they have done." Oliver walks over to the telescope and looks toward the rubble of what must be the hospital. Workers are still digging through the partially collapsed rubble.

"I won't lie. We are up against some really tough odds. But we could use all hands on deck. But I understand if you need time. You just turned 18 last month. You were forced to be an adult a long time ago, but your barely away from being a little girl. If you need time to wait... to mourn... whatever you need to do, I understand. When you're ready head to the cave."

Stephanie Brown was small for her age. She was only just 5 feet tall and weighed maybe a hundred pounds with her gear on. She was lithe and athletic like a gymnast but beneath that frame, she was all muscle. Every one of those muscles were tense and strained against Nightwing as he held her.
"No. I need this. If I sit here I will fall apart. I know Bats has his rules, but I am going to make these guys pay. Bad."

Oliver steps forward and presses his hand onto her shoulder. Intentionally manipulating a variety of pressure points as he talks to her. Forcing her body to relax despite her mind. "Listen. You are not your father. You are more. You are better. You can be more. And you are on your way. Don't make a choice that will turn you into something you don't want to be. Because once you do, your never the same. I made that choice. And I lost myself. Don't take that path."

As her body loosens, Stephanie finally begins to cry. The little girl that lost her father to choosing a life of crime over his family, the daughter that became a hero to try to save him, and now her mother may be gone too. All of these things come flooding to the surface. And she sobs.

After a few minutes she pulls herself together and wipes her face.

"Thank you... all of you. Lets do what we have to. I can only hope she's out there somewhere. Maybe she is just stuck or whatever. Lets go save this city and make someone pay for all the lives they ruined today."

The foursome gather their gear and head down to their ride. Batgirl jumping on the back of Nightwing's and Robin on the back of The Arrows as they head to meet up with Gordon.

 

[Nevyn_Black]

Locked together, the two Beetles stare at each other, each having a conversation with itself within it's own mind. The air around them visibly vibrates with the expended energy of their silent struggle. Christopher Grant is no longer making any speeches.

Within Blue Beetle, the sickness was rising, nausea created by the Darkseid code making his stomach heave. Khaji was attempting to release the other infiltrator.

Jaime WILLED him not to. He held on with grim determination, much like a man pierced by the fangs of a viper, gripping the snakes head in his swollen fist in order to be sure the animal did not escape retribution.

[Jaime, this course of action is not logical. If we do not release the Grant Dialer soon, the Apocalyptic code will breach our firewalls and begin to kill us. ]

"No! If we let him go now, he gets exactly what he wants. Analyze the situation, offer a tactical solution that will ensure that Grant goes down, even if it means taking us with him!

[Analyzing...theory; The Red Scarab the Grant Dialer has control of seems to be an extra-dimensional copy of us. Conjecture: It's own vulnerabilities might match our own in some fashion. Were we to inject it with source code from New Genesis, it may have the same poisonous effect as the Apocalyptic code is having on us.]

Jaime felt a weakness growing in his extremities, cold seeping inward toward his core. He knew they were out of time.

"Do it Khaji. And give the sucker a blast of Sinestro Corp energy while you're at it. Just to make sure."

"Hey Grant...fear is the mind killer, bitch."

[Initiating...]

A cannon formed on the Blue Beetle's chest and opened fire at point blank range, emitting a blast of sickening yellow Light.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"On The Turning Away," by Pink Floyd.

With a deep breath Mary lowers her hands, and changes her posture. Now crouched in a defensive stance she listens intently. "Clever. But you have no idea what your messing with. You wanna play you lecherous freak, lets do this."

Mary knew this was an uphill battle. But she had more than just muscles. Among the many powers granted by the 6 Mythical Gods that empower her, are a sense of Clairvoyance, Divine Grace, and an Eidetic Memory. In her mind she pictured the area perfectly and listened for his movement. She only hoped her Gods were smiling on her today.

With Billy safe, Captain Marvel grins into the face of the monster Grundy. "Wow, Seriously! Breath mints... HRRRAAAAANNNNNNHHHH." Billy screams as he feels even his super heroic form finally crumple under the might of Grundy. His sternum is crushed and his ribs begin to pop. Marvel, struggling to breathe, drives his forehead into Grundys face so fiercely that it creates a sonic boom in the process. As Grundy loosens his hold ever so slightly, Marvel sucks in a breathe and calls to the sky...

"SHAZAM!! A bolt of Golden energy shoots from the sky and drives into the body of Grundy.

Doctor Light was about as exhausted as one could be and still be conscious-- moving all these photons around wasn't effortless, even for him, and even though working for The Network and InterGang had given him opportunity to push back his limits, he was hurting very very badly. Even those gorgeous reserves of solar energy stored in Supergirl's delectable body weren't enough to sustain him now-- so as Mary Marvel listened for movement, well, he wasn't moving much. She'd just dropped from the thermosphere and punched him into a city street, for god's sake.

Grundy, meanwhile-- well. This Grundy was about as strong as a Grundy could get-- and the madder you made him, the stronger he got. Getting thrown like that-- that had made him furious. Fortunately for Captain Marvel, getting hit hard enough to hurt him was an unusual experience for this Grundy, and the moment of stunned disbelief meant it would take a moment or two for fresh waves of anger to take hold after new pain. And so it was with that cannonbolt of a headbutt--

--it rocked Grundy back on his heels, made him see stars, made his cranium ring like a churchbell.

And it made him blink.

And it was in that blink that Captain Marvel cried out the acronym of power that united both his selves with both of Mary's, the portfolio of The Wizard of Eternity.

And it was in that blink that golden lightning stabbed down from the blue of the sky.

But Grundy was a Solomon that often defied Wisdom.

And he was a plant god, a corrupted creature of The Green, born of elemental fusion in Slaughter Swamp, one of the Soft Places of the world. He was enough a creature of plant matter and wood that even the magics of the long-lost Starheart would find him resistant.

And, as it happens, being under a tree is one of the worst places to stand in a lightning storm.

The bolt drilled into Grundy, hitting him in the back between the shoulder-blades, and he roared in almost molecular agony, pure bright mystical energy searing his every nerve and crackling through his every capillary--

"HRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

--but the energy conducted through him and into The World's Mightiest Mortal.

And in an instant, the superhero he clutched turned into just a boy.

The soul of Billy Batson had been banished to The Rock of Eternity. But his body was in the hands of a monster.

"Hey Grant...fear is the mind killer, bitch."

The New Genesian Source-code was the perfect antidote to Apokoliptian base code. A microdose of The Anti-Life Equation was perfectly countered by a sample of The Life Equation, just as it had been in the H.A.L.O Observatory in the battle between Grant, Robby Reed, and the mysterious Open-Window Man. And while it did not successfully poison Scarab!Grant, it did perfectly scrub Blue Beetle's interface of the offending dose-- warmth would rush back into him, and vitality would return.

A cannon formed on the Blue Beetle's chest and opened fire at point blank range, emitting a blast of sickening yellow Light.

[YELLOW LANTERN ENERGY DETECTED!] Anti!Khaji screamed in abject horror as that cannon primed to fire, nanoseconds to react, still no processing power available for a counterattack--

What? Grant hesitated, completely taken aback by J'K'Ahime's lightning-quick insight and ability to turn the tables.

But The Qwardian Yellow Lantern Corps of Earth-3-- a mirror to The Sinestro Corps --was as anathema to The Scarlet Scarab as The Green Lantern Corps would be to The Blue Beetle of this Earth. And thus Anti!Khaji reacted in pure, unbridled, self-defensive desperation.

[REDIAL!] it screamed, and overrode Grant's Dial through Anti!Khaji's interface with his brain-- something that should have been flat-out impossible--

SssshhCLICK!

--and Scarab!Grant shifted ectypes so quickly it defied comprehension. And then everything happened at once.

The carapace with which J'K'Ahime had interfaced vanished, severing that link in an instant and shoving J'K'Ahime back into his own shared head.

Golden lightning struck Grant in the same instant that that other lightning bolt struck Solomon Grundy-- in the same instant that the Sinestro Corps blast cannoned into Grant's chest, knocking him back all of three yards in mid-air.

"SHAZAM!" Grant roared, in as much defiance as astonishment, as much astonishment as outrage, how dare that insignificant computer-bug trigger a reDial! No matter that it had basically saved his hide, NOBODY DIALED HIS DIAL BUT HIM. If he had been the one Dialing, Grant would have picked a very different ectype to withstand that hit, one that Anti!Khaji had perhaps understandably refused to Dial.

But Dial his Dial Anti!Khaji had, and now Scarab!Grant was SHAZAM!Grant... once again wielding the powers of Black Adam of Earth-16.

He wielded power levels here that all heroes present would be wise to fear-- especially The Blue Beetle, who was so very vulnerable to magic. But there was a reason that he had initially Dialed The Scarlet Scarab, Dialed the one ectype that could adapt to anything that The Blue Beetle could throw at him, Reachware was so infuriatingly adaptive-- because as vulnerable as Beetle was to magic, Beetle could also counter magic.

"Ah," SHAZAM!Grant growled, fists crossed in front of his face. "Shit."

...but, hey, remember when all those things had been happening at once?

Lightning had struck Grundy. Lightning had struck Grant. And Blue Beetle had blasted SHAZAM!Grant with the bright yellow energies of The Sinestro Corps.

All of this had been very, very bright. And very, very loud.

And that bright bright light in that instant washed over Doctor Arthur Light, and perhaps dual thunderclaps and cannon-fire eclipsed the sound of his cry of glee-- and the sound of tendons pulling as he pointed a single index finger at the emblem on Mary Marvel's chest, focusing all the light around him into a pinpoint laser-drill that could bore through solid tungsten steel and unleashing it.

Even as Light attempted to zap Mary, Grundy realized that Cap had become a boy, and if Cap had hated Grundy's breath before, he would hate it even more as Grundy roared-- "PUNY WHIZ BOY! BRING BACK BIG RED CHEESE MAN, PUNY WHIZ BOY! GRUNDY KILL BIG RED CHEESE MAN!"

But before Solomon Grundy could splatter Billy Batson like a ripe tomato across Penn Avenue--

KREK.

--Grundy found his head suddenly facing in the opposite direction, but his body had remained still.

Bloody, bruised, covered with mortar and stonedust from the building's rubble, a hundred tiny cuts from broken glass, half her face swollen from injury, her uniform barely holding together, Supergirl hovered there, her hands on Grundy's head, a look of sickened horror and regret on the functional half her face. "Sorry, Solly. See you next Monday."

...and Grundy crumbled into dust like a Biblical pillar of salt, dropping Billy!Cap, and Supergirl swooped to catch Billy!Cap before he hit the ground.

"It's-- it's not killing him. Not technically," Supergirl noted to Billy!Cap as she set him down, almost mantric, obviously trying to remind herself as much explain to the kid. "He'll resurrect. He always resurrects."

And just as Light unleashed his blast against Mary Marvel...

...a big green fist emerged from the center of Light's chest, Martian Manhunter's arm phased through Light's body--

--Light stiffened in surprise and horror--

--he'd had to extinguish the hologram of fire in order to survive Mary's orbital shock punch, and that meant--

--and that meant The Martian was free, free, powerful beyond nearly all reckoning, and very, very angry.

"Arthur," J'onn throomed, with rage that could rattle the foundation of Olympus Mons itself.

"You are the basest of criminals. You feed off of fear, delight in the pain of others. Only such a villain would so happily unleash upon me such primordial triggers, such terrors of the collective Martian unconscious."

"But more than that. The thoughts you have thought this day, loud and clear for me to hear even in my injured state. The thoughts about Supergirl. About this Mary Marvel. Such predatory thoughts. These are women, these are daughters."

"Perhaps you do not know that I was once a father."

"Martian--!" Light squealed in attempted protest, but J'onn raised his other hand and dipped phased fingers into Light's skull, and Light's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Restore Mary's vision."

Light made a croaking noise, and the light returned to Mary Marvel's retinas.

"Recharge the power you stole from Supergirl."

Light gurgled-- and his whole body contorted in agony as he amplified the yellow sunlight around Kara, glowing bright as the brightest day, coronal energies washing over The Girl of Steel.

She straightened, healed, there standing next to Cap, her face returning to its natural beauty, her wounds knitting. "Oh, hey. Sometimes you don't know how bad you feel 'till it all goes away. Thanks, J'onn."

But the Martian wasn't finished yet: "They have a saying on this world, Light, perhaps you are familiar? 'An eye for an eye.' Perhaps a valid interpretation of this would be 'a fear for a fear.' Just as you tortured me with my phobia of flame, my inability to tolerate heat, so now will you feel fear--"

"Fear light."

And when J'onn withdrew his fingers and his forearm from Light, phased out of him, Light crumpled into a ball with his arms crossed over his scrunched-shut eyes, shuddering in panic with tears running down his face. "No, no, nonononono... get it away, get it away, don't let it touch me, don't let the light touch me!"

J'onn grimaced down at the ruin of a villain. "It is only temporary. You will live. But you should thank whatever dark demons clutter your psyche that I was far more merciful than her true father would have been."

A hundred yards away, Redwood's hand crunched and splintered as she pounded a fist made of solid oak into the last parademon's face, and as it stopped moving, stopped convulsing, she straightened, and cracked hardwood knuckles.

"Fer a gal what brought knives to a WMD-fight, I think I did pretty good."

And with that--

--with that.

SHAZAM!Grant was the last Supervillain standing. Or, well, levitating.

And that, almost certainly, not for very long.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Just One Yesterday," by Fall Out Boy ft. Foxes. (Vixen/Artemis)

As the teams began readying for their assigned tasks, Alfred had once more disappeared. Arriving again just as the teams were ready to go. He approached Mari with a stern look.

We will have that talk young lady. But I know better than most what you and these boy are about to run into. I have grown quite fond of Miss Artemis even if like Ollie and Bruce she hasn't quite found her inner piece yet. Please, keep her safe. But I have one favor. While I was in Ghana, I was badly wounded. A very large piece of scrapnel had pierced my body and the woman I spoke of, she healed me. Physically and more. But here family, they made a gift for me from that shard. I have worn it ever since and I would like if you would take it tonight. A token of good luck and maybe of things yet to come." Alfred produced a sizable hand crafted metal anklet from behind his back. There were several images carved on the piece, most prominently a very familiar fox, but also a very intricate Fruit Bat that Mari may recognize as a symbol from her homeland. Pardon the pun Miss, but before I went and joined less scrupulous groups I was a, no pun intended, BAT-man in the British Military. When one of my men called me Bat, a nickname that know seems very foretelling, your mother's family assumed it was my totem. I suppose it is. There is supposed to be great power in the combining of Totems. I would appreciate if you would take this. A promise of our future conversation."

Without waiting for a reply Alfred set the Anklet/Armband on the table by her and moved decisively to Artemis.

Mari watched him go, quietly. And she wondered what else was going on behind that stiff upper lip, behind those grim eyes.

Solemnly, she slipped the band not around her ankle, but up her wrist and onto her forearm. And in that moment, those whispering chittering constant animal voices from The Tantu Totem... well, they didn't go quiet, but she felt like she was drowning in them less. Like she wasn't alone with those voices anymore-- wasn't trying to tame them just by herself.

An old beautiful voice was helping keep them at bay.

And because of that voice, she could stand a little taller under The Totem's weight.

"Thanks, Alfie," she murmured to herself, and touched the symbol of the fruit bat on the band.

Young Miss. Gone was the forlorn and wounded old man. Back was the stern headmaster and authoritarian. "You will be safe. You and I know well enough that your family is more than capable of defending themselves. Have heart." These were not suggestions or questions. They were statements. Ones he clearly intended were understood and followed.

Don't worry about my heart, Artemis grimaced to herself. I've got plenty.

But before she could say this aloud--

As he began to brush by again not waiting for a response he spoke ever so softly, a whisper meant for Artemis alone.

"You have come far. You were lost once. And in many ways you still are. But you have true loving family now. Never forget that. And never forget that you are not your parents. And as one that knows deeply, darkness can be purged, but only if you allow in the light." Alfred gently squeezed her arm as he slipped by. He made no attempt to wait for anyone to reply or engage him but slipped back into the darkness of the inner recesses of the cave. Disappearing like his ward was so known to do.

Like Vixen before her, Artemis silently bewilderedly watched Alfred walk away.

She glanced down at herself, and closed her eyes.

"I'm named after the moon. I guess I gotta let the light in eventually."

But then she squared her jaw.

"...but not yet. Tonight I can't afford to be bright."

"This city needs dark knights tonight more than ever."

With that, she moved up to Venom, touched him on the shoulder.

"Hey."

She pursed her lips for a moment, tried to get traction on the moment, tried to be heartfelt, tried to be human.

She couldn't quite find it.

But sentiment needed to be expressed nevertheless:

"Don't die out there, okay?"

"I'm not down with necrophilia."

From a distance, Mari gave Venom a bro-nod. They weren't close at all, but as the two people here with actual super powers, Mari knew there was a lot of pressure on them to not let the Badass Normals down. So, solidarity.

The Arrow gave a pep-talk.

And so help her, she was an arrow-slinger with a whole quiver full of cynicism and snark, but even Artemis couldn't help but find a glimmer of hope in his speeches. He really was just awesome at speeches-- mostly because Artemis knew he was one of those few good men in the world who could back up lofty words with bad-ass deeds.

Nightwing and Arrow roared off, and Mari moved up to stand next to Artemis.

"So we're doing a thing, right? And you don't like bugs, and you don't like cats. Any other animals need a trigger warning for you?"

Artemis squinted at her, evaluated her for a moment, and then decided Mari was being thoughtful rather than mocking. "Rabbits and dormice aren't awesome. Acceptable, not awesome."

"Duly noted," Mari nodded easily.

Artemis moved to straddle another motorcycle-- fun for the whole Bat-Family-- but then hesitated.

"What's wrong?" Mari frowned.

"Motorcycle," Artemis frowned. "My mom-- the woman we're going to check on and hopefully rescue-- she's in a wheelchair. No way we're going to get her back here on a motorcycle."

Mari grinned softly. "We should take The Car."

Artemis hesitated, and then grinned back. "You sure?"

Vixen ran her tongue over her teeth. "While the Bat's away, the dormice will play..."

 

[TertiusHuman]

Venom

He looked at Artemis as she touched his shoulder and spoke in a...well...a humane manner. For a moment he was taken aback, then he nodded silently at her, seemed like she was getting passed the whole being snarky situation. He would have wanted to go with her though, he knew that he could have handled a lot with her at his side. But solo ops was just so down his alley. He wanted to follow Albert, but as the two women decided to take the car to be able to transport Artemis' mom, a smile found his face once more.

The suit slid into position, giving him the look of a motorcyclist, even giving him the helmet, but gone was the webbing and spider design. Just a sleek, black look was all he had to work with and he wasn't going to complain about it either. Getting on the motorcycle, he fired up the 786cc V4 engine, the symbiote over riding systems as needed, giving him control of the speed of the bike, which was all he needed. He revved the engine, listening to the sleek engine roaring underneath him.

"Oh yeah, this will do."

He popped the clutch and with a shriek of tyres raced away, a HUD coming up on his helmet display, so much fun to be one with an alien symbiote.

 

[Lunaramblings]

Mary was still getting used to all this power. And the deafening roar and cacophony around her just nearly succeeded in drowning out the cry of glee that escaped Arthur Light. As the pinpoint light drill drove through the air, it was this that Mary caught clearly. The searing heat sent waves of heat over her soft skin. There was a tiny, slight keening sound as it bore through the air. The sent of ozone burning away as it drove toward her.

At the last second Mary recognized the threat and rolled with it. She wasn't able to dodge all of it, but enough to live. The drill of light bore into Mary's right shoulder, burning away the flesh, scoring bone. The force of the blast sending Mary twisting and tumbling along the ground. Smashing through a row of cars as she goes.

The Might of Zeus and the Endurance of Atlas goes a long, long way in protecting you. But this HURT. Mary knew she could heal herself if she wanted. But it would talk time and focus she didn't have. She had to be ready to fight. She would have to heal later. Mary struggled to her feet, pulling a rod of metal from her arm as she does.

"HHHRRRNNNNNHH."

Mary was busy tumbling and smashing through cars, debris and god knows what else while the Martian focused on Light. She was thoroughly shocked when her sight returned. She was ready to pounce on Light but saw the sorry sight he had become. She had heard Cap call out for the Lightning, and she had thought she heard another voice do the same. At the time she hadn't worried. You could call out the Lightning all you want, only those gifted with the powers of The Rock could make it work. Then she saw him. The polar opposite of Cap. Instinctually, she knew to fear this incarnation that Grant had called forth. She scanned the scene quickly and saw Billy, not Cap. In a burst of Mercurial Speed, she was there. And like Cap, she called out. "SHAZAM!!!!" As the bolt arcs from between the worlds, Mary acted with such quickness few could follow, as a matter of fact most of them were here.

Mary moved with such fierce determination and speed it was almost uncanny. Using her speed she agitated the molecules in the air, creating a bridge of charged particles, arcing the lightning not to herself, but to Billy!Cap.

As the bolt clashes into the body of Billy Batson, he goes from struggling to stand, to roaring back to his full power. "HRAA! Yes! We are back on track. Thanks for the assist Supergirl."

:::::Inside the Rock of Eternity:::::​

Sara and Billy sat quietly in what seemed to be a small library. The room had changed from darkness to this. Slightly more comfortable, but still the kids were uncomfortable with being stuck here. While they were huddled silently they heard a small noise behind them. And as they turn they see a frail pale skinned boy. He seems very scared and very confused. Sara moved first. And Billy only a step behind her.

"Um. Hi. Are... are you okay?"

"We aren't gonna hurt you, I promise. Um, who are you?"

The boy looks back and forth and answers in a small whisper. "I...I... Solomon."

"Hi Solomon, my name is Sara. This is Billy. Are you okay?"

"Billy.... Sara....Billlllllyyyy.... I like that name. Solomon lost. Not where I am supposed to be. This not where I go."

Billy smiles at the boy and takes a step closer. "You like my name? What if we call you Solly? We can be friends and have the same kinda names? Listen, I don't know where this is exactly, or where you are supposed to be, but you are with us now. Do you like books?"

Solomon looks worried for a second before he smiles an awkward, broken smile. "No one ever there to be nice to Solly. I know a rhyme from book. Mother used to tell. Will you tell story?"

Sara and Billy look at each other for a fraction of a second before smiling. Billy moves to the bookshelf and begins looking at the books. All of which are blank. Then as he thinks how much he wished he had one of his favorite fairy tales that Ma Hunkel used to read him, it is there on the shelf. Billy laughs and takes the book down and returns to the table.

For the next little while Billy and Sara take turns reading to Solly. The normalcy of the activity making both of them feel better.

After awhile Solly smiles and nods his head toward an archway that had appeared. Beyond the arch lies a dank dark swamp. But it seems to be soothing to Solly.

"Solly can go home now. You come with Solly?"

Sara looks sadly at their new friend before answering. "Solly, we would, but we are sort of stuck here. But if you ever decide you want to visit you are always welcome. Here, take this book with you. To remind you that you aren't alone." Sara quickly moves forward, hugging him gently. Billy following suit and doing the same.

Solly looks forlorn as he accepts the book. "Don't remember reading. But have pretty pictures."

Sara smiles and puts her hand over the book. Calling on the power of the Rock to lend just a sliver of it's magic. the book shimmers briefly and Sara looks back at Solly, "Open it up, and move your finger over the words."

Solly looks lost but does as he is told. As he moves his finger along, Sara's voice comes from the book. Reading the words as Solly moves over them. His face lights up and he smiles that broken awkward smile again. And as he flips through the book, he smiles broadly again as he sees the pictures moving and playing out the story as Sara's voice tells it.

Solly embraces Sara fiercely. Much stronger than he looks, he hugs her to him and a single tear rolls down his face. Not clear like the tears of a human, but the color of swamp water. Solly releases his new friend from his embrace and waves as he walks through the archway, it closing behind him.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Clash of The Totems. (Artemis/Vixen)

"Oh yeah, this will do."

He popped the clutch and with a shriek of tyres raced away, a HUD coming up on his helmet display, so much fun to be one with an alien symbiote.

Artemis watched Venom roar off, hugging herself slightly and then rubbing her arm awkardly with one hand.

Vixen watched Artemis quietly, then murmured: "How's it going, uh, with you two?"

Artemis shrugged. "Weird as ever. But it's a good weird, I guess."

She glanced over at the supermodel superheroine. "So, uh, how does this work? You go mimic octopus and fool the ID scanners into thinking you're The Big Bad, Bat? That seems like a you thing to do."

"Not a bad thought," Mari grinned, and approached the powerful vehicle with that grin fresh on her lips. "But I don't think it'll come to that."

She trailed her fingertips over the chassis. "I used to go out with Nightwing, I told you, right? Well, he and I had a couple of working dates, off-campus so to speak. Don't tell Bruce."

And then she chortled softly. "Not to mention, don't tell anyone I stooped to go to Jersey for a boy. I'd never live it down back in Chelsea."

A beam of light emitted from the car, the same color as the holo-Alfred that had greeted them coming up from the submarine sub-basement, sweeping Vixen up and down.

[Recognized Designation: Vixen. Temporary Omega Clearance refreshed to Temporary Beta.]

The canopy hissed open, and Vixen vaulted into the driver's seat, buckled up.

"Thanks, Oracle, you're a peach. Do me a favor and update Designation: Artemis to a Temporary Beta, too."

The beam swept Artemis, and she made that-- naked-not-in-a-good-way face-- and then the voice declared: [Compliance. Recognized Designation: Artemis. Temporary Omega Clearance refreshed to Temporary Beta.]

Eyes widening, Artemis bounded into the shotgun seat. "Wow. Friends in high places, huh?"

"Friends in all the places," Vixen grinned, and then glanced at Artemis sidelong as the canopy folded down around them. "Say, did you notice that Oracle's digital voice kinda sounds like you? I wonder if Bruce did that on purpose."

Artemis buckled her harness. "First of all, I do not sound like that. Second, everyone keeps mentioning this 'Bruce' guy like I should know who you're talking about. Does he run op-tech for Bats? Cut his checks?"

"For a smart girl, you're gonna kick yourself for being dumb in a minute," Vixen grinned as she put the foot to the floor and roared the sleek, red-and-black Batmobile down the exit ramp after Venom. "You remember the old guy that was in the room with Felicity and them when we had our briefing?"

"Yeah," Artemis rolled her eyes. "Everyone in Gotham knows who that guy is, what's your point? Super-rich and political guys visit The Brownstone all the time, Ollie had a meet-and-greet with a senator just this morning--"

Then she stopped. "Wait."

"Ding ding ding," Vixen grinned. "On to the lightning round."

"Jesus Christ," Artemis groaned, "he paid for me to go to that fancy school, no wonder Batgirl was there too."

And then: "Jesus Christ-- that intervention-- Bruce Wayne was in my living room."

"Ollie. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna kill him so frickin' dead."

Vixen chortled, and flexed her hands on the steering wheel.

"Whatever else goes down today, my work here is done."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Taking the High Road. (Artemis/Vixen)

The city burned around them.

Abandoned vehicles clogged the streets.

And every so often, they felt the seismic pulse of one of the Markov devices in their guts, in their bones, like infrasonic bass.

There wasn't as much rioting as you'd think. The presence of emergency personnel and assassins both had resulted in a kind of detente-- the citizens of Gotham had retreated to lick their wounds.

Artemis' eyes ached as she gazed out through this Batmobile's canopy.

"Ollie never talks about The Undertaking," she murmured. "I was like five or six when it happened, and across the country, and it was just this sort of-- thing on the news. I remember my mom and dad yelling into the phone a lot, that was about it."

"My family was in Nigeria at the time," Mari murmured, climbing a sidewalk to get around an over-turned city bus, scraping past mailboxes and park benches. "Not great shakes with regards to stability, but it could have been worse. The Undertaking could have been worse." She paused. "This is worse."

Artemis paused. A long, long pause. "I'm being selfish, aren't I? Saving my mom first. We should be stopping-- we should be helping people-- should be helping everyone, not just her."

"We can't save everyone," Mari pointed out. "And you can't save anyone unless your head's in the game. One split-second in combat and your head's not in the moment, that head'll get split like an apple and who are you gonna help then? Arrow's given you a mission to accomplish, I say you accomplish it-- then get on to the next one. He knows what it's like to lose a mom to the senselessness. A lot of us do."

Artemis digested this quietly as they drove for a moment, listening to Mari swear softly as The Batmobile had to shoulder a Dumpster out of the way in order to get back on the road. And then she attempted, hesitantly:

"Listen. Vixen. About my mom. There's-- there's something I don't-- it's not for public--"

But then Vixen slammed on the brakes, and they lurched to a stop.

A half-dozen skyscrapers, undermined by the Markov devices used elsewhere, had toppled like dominoes, and were blocking a massive chunk of Gotham-- they were cut off.

"Okay, fuck," Vixen grimaced. "I can try backing up and going around, which could take hours-- or we have another option. But... but it'll make us more of a target. Leave us wide open. Major bullseye."

"I would've been using it in the first place, but--"

"Do it," Artemis told her, shaking her head.

"You sure?" Vixen squinted back.

"Like you said, we've got a mission to accomplish," Artemis pressed. "We can't save anyone if we're not willing to take some calculated risks."

"Okay," Vixen nodded simply. "Turbines to speed."

And flicked a switch on the dash.

And with a whine of VTOL engines, The Batmobile...

...took off.

Artemis blinked.

"Okay, holy shit."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Taking the Low Road. (Artemis/Vixen)

"I have taken 3 plane trips in the last two days," Artemis pressed her face to the window as Gotham rolled by below, dark and ominous. "Why is this so awesome?"

"'Where we're going we don't need roads,'" Vixen grinned softly, triple-checking the altimeter.

"That movie is forty years old," Artemis grumbled, "and their 'future' was ten years ago, why are people still quoting it?"

"Because people still get that reference," Vixen smirked. "Just like you."

Artemis harrumphed. "Cisco made me watch 'em. Anyway, doesn't Batman have, like, The Bat-Wing, or The Bat-Plane, or whatever? Why would he need a flying car?"

"Best of both worlds, I guess," Vixen shrugged.

"Arrow never got a flying motorcycle," Artemis harrumphed.

"Actually, Ray offered to make him one, but Ollie turned him down," Vixen mused. "Said it would be 'too derivative.'"

"'Too derivative?'" Artemis glanced at her. "Of what?"

Vixen pursed her lips, twitched her head in a shake. "Hell if I know."

Artemis bit the inside of her cheek. "Tell me again why we weren't using this the whole time?"

"You see anything else up in this sky with us?" Vixen pointed out. "Any news choppers, any civilian craft, any of those famous GCPD blimps? There's a reason for that. This is restricted airspace, and there are lots of factions down there that want to keep it that way--"

"Hey," Artemis pressed her forehead to the canopy again. "There's the Heights. I-- I can actually see my house from here. Well, apartment building."

"Awesome," Vixen nodded. "Hold tight, I'm gonna hover her up right next to the window, Harry Potter-style--"

But then The Batmobile shuddered, alarms screamed, the side of the machine buckled--

--the flying car spun in the air, and for a moment framed in the canopy there stood Queen of The Royal Flush Gang, astride her flying card "flight deck," her crystalline fusion-blast scepter smoldering from the blast she'd just used to take them out of the air.

Artemis instinctively reached for an arrow, but the canopy was shut, they were yawing, rolling, pitching towards the ground--

--Vixen snarled through gritted teeth: "Batmobile! Lock to target! Disable!"

--and even as they spun in the air, even as Vixen fought with the steering wheel, the car launched a missile that streaked out and exploded beside and beneath Queen's card before she could intercept it with a blast, and she, too, spun out of the air, hurtling off into the urban valleys below with a string of curses.

Alarms bleating, wailing--

"Jesus, Jesus," Artemis growled, she wasn't scared, wasn't scared exactly, it was just-- "Mom, mom, we're so close, hang in there--"

"I can't hold her," Vixen growled, "can't take hands off the wheel to tag the Totem--"

--impact-resistant gel like the stuff from the crash-mat arrows flooded the cockpit and--

--CRUNCH.

 

[ChasNicollette]

The Lady or The Tiger? (Artemis/Vixen)

The canopy hissed open, gel gushed out, and Vixen and Artemis both emerged from that gunk coughing and spluttering.

"Oh, God," Artemis groaned, staggering out into the road bed where they'd crashed. "Oh, God, that was-- I've actually been hit by a car in mid-air before, and that was worse."

"Any landing you can walk away from," Vixen winced, craning her neck back. "But if I hear one last-century 'woman driver' joke from The Bat when he hears I wrecked his car, I swear I'll go full owl on his ass." She paused. "Owls hunt bats."

Artemis grunted, hands on her knees, checking the rooftops and windows around them for any signs of snipers, checking the sky for other Royal Flushers, gotta love a box canyon. "So I've heard. Look, is that thing a lost cause or can it still get us and Mom out of here?"

Vixen paused and touched her Totem.

RED-TAILED HAWK.

"Bird's-eye view says it's engaging its self-repair autofabrication function-- tiny little nanites doing their thing," she noted.

Artemis glanced at her, surprised. "Hey. You didn't go-- feathery. Like before."

Vixen glanced down at herself, at her hands. She hadn't-- manifested physically. In fact, the shift of totemic templates had been effortless this time. She remembered that feeling of not being alone against The Animal Kingdom anymore-- and gazed, for a bewildered instant, at the armband Alfred had given her. "Huh."

Gesturing ahead, Artemis started running-- "Let's keep moving. Mom's place is just down the street."

Please let us be in time.

The few-hundred-yard run whicked by relatively uninterrupted, and they were under Artemis' fourth-story window almost before they knew it.

Artemis drew one of her grappling arrows, launched a line-- retracted up with the arrow buried in the brickwork holding her up like a piton, letting her hang on the wall-- and Vixen swooped up by the next window along, hovering there, enjoying the easy grace of animal powers again without the pain of disfigurement.

But what they saw in their windows--

--saw in Artemis' living room--

--gave them both serious pause.

A single candle burned on the coffee table.

Paula Nguyen-Crock sat in her wheelchair, looking lost and forlorn.

But around her...

...stood a ring of League Assassins, all hoods and cloaks and medieval weapons.

And with Paula at the center of the ring stood Nyssa al Ghul, Daughter of The Demon, and next to Nyssa stood a feminine figure dressed in all-black Assassin's gear-- Asian eyes peering out over the face-mask and from under the hood-- slight of figure but with a stance that was like royalty. This must be Nyssa's Horseman, her right hand-- like Maseo had been to the previous Ra's, under the guise of Sarab-- Thea had one too in her Remnant, a ridiculously gorgeous boy.

The Black Horsewoman said not a word.

But Nyssa was talking, her glittering eyes full of passion and power and promise.

"--The Sportsmaster has betrayed us, Nimra, chosen to honor himself and his own precious reputation by defending his homeland instead of honoring his contract with The League. But in his betrayal, there is opportunity. You were always ever his equal. The only woman in whom he saw enough potential to sow seed. You would be instrumental in exacting The League's revenge on him."

Bewildered, Vixen hissed across from her window-- "Art-- who did you say your mom was again?"

Artemis hissed back at her-- "Shhh!"

"Even if I were interested," Paula shook her head, "how could I be that warrior woman? I am broken in half by the life you would have me lead again."

Nyssa sank down to crouch before Paula, her sensuous lips curved in murderous sagacity, catching Paula's bowed eyes from below. "The Thirteenth Age of Magic is upon us, Nimra. Many more Lazarus Pits have bubbled up from the deep at the intersections of ley-lines. And we have secured one. Think of it-- think of it! Your youth, your strength, your vitality restored, being able to stand on your own two feet! All in exchange for saying again what once you said-- fealty to The League and death to our enemies. Death to our enemy, to your enemy, the man who abandoned you... Sportsmaster."

Paula's eyes widened, and she sat up straight in her chair.

Nyssa rose to gaze down at her once more, confident that now she had Paula's attention. "What say you, Nimra? Shall we sharpen your claws once more?"

Outside the window, Artemis' jaw clenched. Her whole existence turned on this screw.

A thousand possibilities spun behind Paula's widened eyes.

Running across wet grass. Turning off the bathtub with her toes. The shock of power that came with a perfectly-placed kick to a man's skull.

But then a fresh rush of images descended-- her granddaughter Lian. The honor of her daughter Artemis. Being a light to guide her daughter Jade and her son-in-law Roy back from the shades of grey into which they ever wandered.

And with a trembling breath, Paula squared her jaw... steadied and centered herself, and decided: "No, Nyssa. No thank you."

Nyssa stared at her for a long moment, her facial expression illegible, and then sighed disappointedly. "Of course. I understand."

She drew her sword.

"But you understand, Paula Nguyen. That those who side with traitors are themselves traitors. And the wages of sin... is death."

"Art--" Vixen breathed in horror--

"Go," Artemis snarled--

--and both women blew in through their respective windows, and the Assassins looked up in startlement--

--and Paula, the look on Paula's face at the sight of her daughter, the joy and terror all rolled into one--

"NYSSA AL GHUL!" Artemis roared.

"YOU HAVE FAILED. THIS. CITY!"

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Uma Thurman," by Fall Out Boy. (Artemis/Vixen)

As had happened so many times today--

--a lot of things happened at the same time, like the seconds were jumbling together in a pile-up.

As glass scattered through the air in chaos and fractures and the members of The League of Assassins turned as one to gaze at the two members of The Justice Society crashing inward--

--Artemis hit the floor rolling, came up with an arrow, fired it at Nyssa's heart--

--The Black Horseman lunged-- Jesus she was fast-- snatched the arrow out of the air, snapped it in half with her grip--

--Artemis had totally expected Nyssa to cut the arrow out of the air with her sword, but geeze, that bodyguard--

--Vixen landed in a crouch, drew the batons from her thigh holster, threw them across the room to Artemis' mother--

"MA'AM!"

--she didn't know all of what was going on here, but it was clear that Artemis' mommy dearest had been some kind of bad-ass back in the day, and they needed all the help they could get here--

--Paula Nguyen-Crock hauled down hard back on her left wheel, whirling her wheelchair around--

--both hands came up and she effortlessly snagged the batons from the air--

--the six hooded Assassins drew weapons to attack Artemis and Vixen, and Vixen--

--flying powers and distance vision weren't great in a small dark room--

--slapped the Tantu Totem--

ELECTRIC EEL.

--the stench of ozone filled the room, sparks crackled from her fingers, and twitching and spasming and jerking and gurgling, all six Assassins crumpled to the floor.

Nyssa snarled, pointed at Vixen-- "Bint al Qabil! Metahuman!"

The woman in black-- Bint al Qabil --whirled to face Vixen, and again she moved with breathtaking speed and grace, was she a metahuman?

Vixen wasn't taking any chances-- clenching her hands into fists, she unleashed another surge of power--

--but Bint al Qabil just narrowed her eyes and waded into it, her uniform was pretty thoroughly insulated or something, she didn't even twitch--

--and she shifted again to this gorgeous kung fu stance, jaw-droppingly exquisite, some kind of nameless style that was every style at once--

--Vixen slapped the Tantu Totem again. Okay, then.

RED KANGAROO.

Mari McCabe had been trained by some of the best, her martial arts skills were solid as they came. And you add to that the kicking and punching power of an animal that can jump forty feet in a single bound... she turned into Rhonda fucking Rousey.

Vixen knuckled up, and Bint al Qabil rushed at her like a living, lethal shadow...

...Artemis nocked another arrow, fired, and again, fired--

Nyssa deftly, effortlessly, sliced arrow after arrow out of the air, parried them and bisected them with her blade.

Paula lashed out at Nyssa's back with her batons but Nyssa drew a wicked, curved dagger out of her belt, parried these blows without blinking, without even really looking at Paula--

--with a snarl of frustration, Artemis folded her bow away and drew her katana, rushing in to join her mother in melee combat against this would-be Demon's Head...

...Vixen couldn't lay a finger on Bint al Qabil, not one knuckle, not one footsole, even with the speed and power of the creature that boiled Red within her, the black-clad Horseman just silked between the punches and kicks, angled this way, leaned the other, blows breezed past her by millimeters but never connected--

--and yet Vixen couldn't mount a defense to save her life, every one of this girl's hits was like a piledriver--

--one punch and she tasted blood, one palm strike and she was so dizzy she could barely stand--

--one kick and she felt bone nearly break--

--every time Vixen struck, it was like Bint al Qabil had seen it coming three moves ago and was more than ready, even when Mari mixed it up, tried a new move, broke up her patterns, Bint al Qabil adapted effortlessly, like a flowing stream--

--and then she hit back like a water-cannon...

..."Why are you doing this?" Artemis demanded, as steel clashed on steel, Nyssa dancing between the two Crock women like she had been born at war. "Is this revenge on Thea for getting the top spot? After-- after Thea ordered Sarah resurrected as a token of respect for your love for her?"

Nyssa snorted. "Merlyn's Daughter-- Bint al Sa-Her --resurrected that woman to assuage her own blood-guilt, not out of allegiance to me. And the creature that emerged from the pit in Nanda Parbat was never my Ta-er al-Safar, The Hellblazer saw to that."

"Then why?" Paula demanded, whirling the Escrima sticks over her fingers and lashing out again. "Why come here and wreak such havoc on lives and homes and innocents?"

"Gotham was always going to be harrowed," Nyssa slapped Paula's blows away with the flat of her dagger, flicking the blade easy as breathing from underhand to overhand and back again. "Al Xu'ffasch simply made it personal by bringing his flock to interfere in our business-- to steal that which belonged to us-- now we carry out the sentence on this bloated, corrupt, overheated relic with relish as well as efficiency."

Artemis ducked, slashed, bounded back, hacked--

--but Nyssa was always there to meet her, blade on blade, sparks flying--

"It is The Batman who failed his city," Nyssa snarled. "We seek only to correct that failure in the inevitable fashion."

"Not in my town, you're not!" Artemis roared, and swung--

--Nyssa locked blades with Artemis, rolled her eyes-- "This is the problem with all the proteges of Al Sah-him. So busy fighting their own demons, they cannot fight their enemies."

Paula brought a baton whipping up to crack into the back of Nyssa's head-- but Nyssa parried it with a half-glance, wrapped her blade around the baton and flicked it away, carving a gash down Paula's forearm in the process.

"And apparently it's catching."

"Mom!" Artemis exploded, whirling out of the bladelock and into a spinning slash that should, by all rights, have taken Nyssa down hard--

--but Nyssa was there to meet that, too, and the katana simply shattered as Nyssa's Damascus steel cleaved clean through it.

To her credit, Artemis barely hesitated. "Catch this."

She yanked a knockout-gas arrow out of her quiver and detonated it at point-blank range between herself and Nyssa-- FWOOOSH...

...Vixen kept trying to touch her Totem, to switch animals, to finish this even if she had to bust out RHINO strength or ARMADILLO armor--

--but Bint al Qabil slapped Vixen's hand away every time she tried to reach for it, deflecting her, keeping her in KANGAROO mode.

Vixen was feeling the burn, feeling the pain, feeling the mode, and she couldn't switch to a fast-healer like SEASTAR or EARTHWORM to offset the damage and fatigue...

...who was this woman? How could someone exist on this fantastic upper-echelon of martial arts without The Justice Society knowing about her? She was impossible-- and all of this without saying a word, not a single word, sound, grunt, or cackle. The Wordless Horseman. Just a silent knight.

And as another of Bint al Qabil's axe kicks nearly took Mari's head off, Mari couldn't help but register that the six Assassins she'd taken down with electroshock moments ago were already starting to stir, to awaken, to rise...

..."You call this tactics?" Nyssa coughed, slicing her way out of the puff of knockout gas, blades singing in the air, blinking watery tears out of her eyes. "I am of The League of Assassins, Daughter of The Demon's Head, such feeble toxins are like mother's milk to me--" she was staggered, but still lethal to anyone in reach--

--but Artemis was out of reach, crouching on the windowsill, her unconscious mother in a fireman's carry, a gas mask on her face.

"Vixen! We're not winning this! Bail hard and fast and long, I'll cover you!"

Mari nodded even as she attempted to cover her head with her arms as The Wordless Horseman rained down blows--

--Artemis drew an arrow from her quiver, one with a blue stripe around the nock. And without hesitation she threw it straight for Nyssa's heart, just like the first arrow she'd fired.

Bint al Qabil launched across the room like she was part kangaroo herself, snagged the arrow quivering in the air just inches from hitting the bleary-eyed, sluggish Nyssa al Ghul--

--but Artemis didn't wait around to see what happened next, she was already firing a zipline and getting out of Dodge--

--Vixen dove out through the window with a beautiful KANGAROO jump and as she fell she slapped the Totem--

--BAT--

--swooping low over the road and getting distance even as Artemis hit the ground running beside her--

--behind them a flash of crackling azure energy blew out the candle on the coffee table and dropped every human being in a 20 meter radius to a single inch in height.

The leader of The League of Assassins, her Horseman, and her minions suddenly found themselves Lilliputian in Gulliver's apartment.

Nyssa's tiny roar of frustration could still be heard ringing from the walls, and that made it all the more impressive.

"Remind me," Artemis shook her head, tugging off her gas mask, "to never ever give Professor Palmer an ounce of shit for touching my stuff. Ever. Again."

"Duly noted," Mari nodded as she sailed along, wincing with every twinge on her battered body.

"Mmmwha?" Paula shifted, blinked, tough older lady was already shrugging off the gas.

"Sorry, Mom," Artemis glanced up at her mother as she carried her, "had to act quick, didn't have time to get you a rebreather. Your head'll clear in a minute, promise."

They approached The Batmobile, and Vixen swooped to run instead of fly, tapping the Totem and going EARTHWORM after all for an instant healing factor. What a relief it was that somehow she didn't have to look earthwormy anymore... "Car's almost done repairing itself, let's get out of here quick."

"Yeah, quick is the word," Artemis replied. "That arrow's only s'posed to last about ten minutes and ten seconds--"

--a firebolt speared down from the sky and struck the still-damaged Batmobile, blowing it into a crater and causing the women to stagger--

Vixen threw herself over Artemis and Paula like a shield as the blast wave and the backdraft hit, scorching her and buffeting her badly, but she would heal, c'mon, quick, heal...

...but as the three women looked up, they saw The Royal Flush Gang descending on their flight decks.

Queen, again, with her fusion-blast scepter smoldering, smirking again-- she'd finished the job she started by shooting the car down, and now these interlopers had no place to run.

King, sword out, looking grim and commanding.

Ten, shuffling a deck of trick cards between her hands.

A new Jack, laser-mask and all.

And a new Ace, bigger than the last one-- a lot bigger.

"I'm afraid, my dear," King drawled, "you don't have nearly quite so long as that."

 

[Nevyn_Black]

The Blue Beetle stared over the carnage of the battlefield, looking at the wounds on his friends, healing though they might already be, and then glanced at Black Adam/Chris Grant. "Oh, you are SO screwed."

A sonic cannon morphed from the Blue Beetle's right arm, aiming at Black Adam/Chris Grant. A very specific vibrational frequency was unleashed in a sonic wave at the villain, disrupting any and all magical transformations, at the same time, broadcasting the New Genesis Life equation in vibrational tonal formula. What came out was much like A Blast of Pure Song, and it washed over Christopher Grant in a wave.

 

[Zet_Cross]

The roar of an engine can be heard fast approaching the two heroines. An unusual red car comes to a screeching halt next to Vixen and Artemis. Out of the right side door steps a man in a grey suit wearing a strange belt and wrist accessory.

"It seems you two ladies could use some help."

 

[TertiusHuman]

Venom

They had to ditch the cycle, though the ride had not been a smooth one, the fantastic speed and the reflexes enhanced by the symbiote, made it not dangerous at all. But the cycle would not have been able to climb the building. With a grin, they started climbing, using the spider-like qualities to stick to the wall.

There was voices above them, the helmet melted away, leaving the mask behind, the suit remained the same though. Easier to meld with the shadows. They kept their stealthy path upwards. Pausing at the top to take a peek. Oooh ninjas...but...why where they carrying guns? Retreat? Nah, coms was a priority.

"At checkpoint. Several Bogeys. Moving in."

He subvocalised these words, the symbiote used the signal amplifier to send out the message and just as he vaulted onto the roof, eight sonic guns discharged as one. How had they heard him? Ninja skills? But even with surprise on their side, it was never easy to hit the symbiote unless you're something that waded in close and delivered mean damage.

The pulses reached for him as he ducked, dodged, rolled and dived. These guys were good, hell they were fantastic! But they had numbers and relied to much on the guns. Tendrils shot out, faster than the eye can track and to the attackers' credit, they almost managed to back away...almost.

A grin split his face and THAT tongue lolled out, the now-useless guns got tossed aside and a large variety of weapons drawn. "Ooooh goodie, I have been craving brains today." The charge came in silence and he met it with equal silence...though soon enough screams started to ring out as bones started to snap

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Renegades," by X Ambassadors. (Artemis/Vixen)

The roar of an engine can be heard fast approaching the two heroines. An unusual red car comes to a screeching halt next to Vixen and Artemis. Out of the right side door steps a man in a grey suit wearing a strange belt and wrist accessory.

"It seems you two ladies could use some help."

There was then a perhaps understandable moment of surprise for everyone involved.

"Not gonna say no, handsome," Artemis dropped to one knee and rolled her mom off of her shoulder, snapping her bow open, "but you better have some serious juice under that Versace."

Then Vixen finished healing from the fireblast and slapped The Tantu Totem grimly. "I've got the big guy." AFRICAN BUSH ELEPHANT. ...and she leaped for Ace, who met her head-on with a mechanical roar.

Then Queen leveled her scepter at that unusual red car. "Ohhhh," she tutted. "It is not a good night to be a sexy ride in Gotham Heights." And unleashed a plasma blast straight for its windshield.

Then King swooped for this new stranger in the grey suit, sword glinting, angling to sweep his head clean off his shoulders. "Don't usually prefer to get my hands dirty. But expediency demands, and needs must."

Then Ten hurled bladed cards at Artemis, and Artemis shot them down like skeet, drawfiredrawfiredrawfire--

--then Jack's half-mask laser-eye slashed across the ground for Artemis' mother, and Artemis fired another arrow at his face, forcing him to blast the arrow instead, vaporize it to splinters in the air--

"Ahh!" he barked with surprise. "You could've put my eye out!"

"Put a big goddamn target on your face," Artemis growled, "see where that gets you."

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Louder Than Words," by Pink Floyd. (Chris Grant)

The Blue Beetle stared over the carnage of the battlefield, looking at the wounds on his friends, healing though they might already be, and then glanced at Black Adam/Chris Grant. "Oh, you are SO screwed."

A sonic cannon morphed from the Blue Beetle's right arm, aiming at Black Adam/Chris Grant. A very specific vibrational frequency was unleashed in a sonic wave at the villain, disrupting any and all magical transformations, at the same time, broadcasting the New Genesis Life equation in vibrational tonal formula. What came out was much like A Blast of Pure Song, and it washed over Christopher Grant in a wave.

SHAZAM!Grant crossed his arms over his face as though to shield him, like he'd done to protect himself from the worst attacks of Roentgen-Ray Rose...

...but it was nowhere near enough.

The precisely-attuned sonic barrage crashed into him like the tide into the shore--

--like the trumpet-blast and shouting crashing into The Walls of Jericho--

--he felt like he was dying--

--like the power was being ripped out of every cell of his body individually--

--like all the sparks in his brain were going out--

--it was a very familiar feeling--

--when he had arrived at The Exchange, he had been ready to swear fealty to whatever darkness had been scrawling and crawling on the edges of his consciousness for his whole life.

But Boot Camp was a little more complicated than that.

First there was Granny. She taught him the freedom of being controlled. The absolute liberty of giving up your will, your agency, to something more twisted than your very deepest nightmares.

But when Granny was done, there was DeSaad. Scientist and sadist, he longed to understand Dials and Dialers better than even the legendary Operators had themselves. Particularly this new generation of Dials, in which a Dial bonded to a single soul...

...he wondered how to manipulate that bond, how to sever it, how to cause someone pain through it, Dial H for Hurt...

...over and over again he had killed Christopher Grant on his table, bottling his neuropsychic net as it escaped in death, then repairing Grant's body and flushing his soul back in, all the while analyzing the exchange of energy between Dialer and Dial.

And only when he had a new Dialer to play with did he let the tortured mess of Christopher Grant out to fight on the front lines of a war that deified incomprehension and defied comprehension.

Grant's Dial screamed in his head, forced into a time-out, and SHAZAM's lighting evaporated from Grant's body, forcing him to drop to the ground below, his Dial skittering away from him across the road-bed.

But it was more than that.

It was more than just energy pattern disruption-- he'd dealt with that plenty of times in The Dial Wars, whenever opposing Gear Dialers managed to Dial up Reach Infiltrators to make them even more infuriatingly versatile.

--but there was a bright light in this soundblast, a sonoluminescence.

'Fear is the mind-killer,' Jaime had quipped moments ago-- so long, long ago, whole seconds and seconds ago--

--Chris Grant understood that reference.

And as The Life Equation washed through him like baptismal waters, fracturing his tightly-held grip on his devotion to Anti-Life-- not breaking it, not by a long shot, but putting hairline cracks into it--

--he understood that fear.

The fear of being alone, without his Lord and Destroyer, his Master, whispering pitch-black impulses into his heart and hippocampus, into the reptilian backbrain inherited from his evolutionary ancestors--

--being bereft of that granite embrace, that loving, all-consuming all-subsuming instruction--

'I must not fear,' his memory recited,
'Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing...'

He was on his hands and knees, staring sightlessly down at the asphalt, and he mumbled the final words with a heart so many times broken:

"...only I will remain."

 

[TertiusHuman]

Venom

Well there wasn't any brains to be had only because John didn't like the idea of the images of chowing down on brains. They stood before the communication tower, the access panel wasn't too difficult to find. The only problem was that it was difficult to replace the damaged circuit boards.

What a drag

'Indeed.'

They turned around and headed into the building, there had to be a maintenance room or something like that. The door opened easily enough, the kick which hit them in the chest was not that easy to handle. They staggered backwards, slipping to the side as dark shapes came hurtling from the shadowy interior. "Oooh more fun."

As they attacked, they realized that this may take a bit longer than expected, unless these oponents have realized that he was there and had destroyed the circuit boards just for that reason. That meant that he would have to be even more stealthy with the next targets.

Chocolate

"Not now."

Brains then.

"Stop it!"

In this surge of anger his control on the symbiote slipped and in that brief moment, a head got seperated from a body. But on some level John actually enjoyed that moment and it also won him a few moments. The two of them reached that mutual ground again and they used that moment that the enemy was taken aback to attack.