ManInTheTrenchcoat's Amalgam Universe

by ManInTheTrenchcoat

Summary:

In two small specks in the infinite multiverse, one similar to those from Marvel Comics and the other from DC, they are facing universe-ending crises. The only way for them to survive was for Magneto and Doctor Fate to fuse them into one. In their deaths, the new world and fused characters must grow from their failings and press on to a new frontier.

Chapter 1: Prelude: The End of the Beginning

In the infinite upon infinite cosmos of the multiverse, universes much unlike, yet eerily like our own are heralded by champions. These champions can come from anywhere. Some descend to their worlds like gods and protect the innocent from the unknown, while others rise from the shadows and battle what they know all too well. To maintain the balance of their respective universes, challengers would always clash against to those who held power, and those challengers brought conflict, and the conflict always brought catastrophe.

Every universe contains at least one artifact capable of destroying it entirely. The nature of entropy dictates such. Some have many, some of them are even living beings. No matter what, those fueled by evil are hellbent on using them for their own gain. Often, their own hubris and belief in controlling these artifacts are what leads to the end of their universes. Ambition consumes all they sought after, and then it consumes themselves. I have seen this pattern over and over throughout hundreds of thousands of realities, for I am the Watcher, I have interfered but once, and shall never do it again. The universes we are about to witness are about to await the consequences of tampering with the ancient forces.

On the universe designated as 203225, its champions clash against their final evil. This was a world of Marvels not unlike the ones you know, with a few stark differences. The greatest being that Captain America, the First Avenger, was a Mexican immigrant named Esteban Rogers. He would be the one to fight alongside the All-Winners Squad to support the Allies during the 1940s. Another; being that even after regaining the worthiness of Mjolnir, Thor continued to use the persona of Dr. Donald Blake to live a normal life among humanity between his heroics. Third, much like Earth-199999, Dr. Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne, the original Ant Man and Wasp would be heroes of the 1980s instead of founding the Avengers, and thus the Age of Ultron has not yet occurred. Ten years after the formation of the Avengers, The Mad Titan, Thanos, stands against the ultimate alliance of heroes at his altar constructed for Death herself. The deviant wielded the mighty Infinity Gauntlet, a weapon holding the six Infinity Gems, fragments of the Big Bang itself. With a snap of Thanos' fingers, half of all life would cease to exist. The Avengers, X-Men, all defenders, and guardians of this galaxy banded together to save themselves from Thanos. But in the end, they fell against his power. Even some once villains like Doctor Doom had come to assist in vain.

Thanos was a cunning man. He knew exactly who to go after at the perfect time to get all of the Infinity Gems with little issue. The Silver Surfer: literally the first one Thanos fought after getting the Power Gem. Captain Marvel: banished her to the other side of the universe once he got the Space Gem. As a Deviant, Thanos was one of the few beings the Eternals were permitted to act against. What did Thanos do about them? Well, there are a series of statues aligning the shrine he built to Death depicting various mythical figures. He got creative with the Reality Gem. The Mind Gem was used to make all the inhabitants of Asgard completely unaware anything was happening in the other realms. Thanos made sure to act on the specific week Odin was taking his annual week-long nap to recharge his powers, the Odinsleep. He also had Heimdall killed and replaced by his advisor and probably eventual betrayer Mephisto for good measure. The Time Gem was not guarded by the Sorcerer Supreme in this world, but a man called the Gardener, not much conflict there as Thanos briefly dispatched him. As for the Soul Gem, it was in the forehead of Guardians of the Galaxy member, Adam Warlock. It was upon learning of Warlock's potential, that the remaining heroes assembled. Their only shot at survival was to protect Adam Warlock at all costs, and somehow get the Infinity Gauntlet off him amid all that. But because they were so, horribly outmatched, Thanos swept through all of them.

Captain America's shield was shattered to pieces by the Power Gem. Thor's hammer was transported via Space Gem to the other end of the universe where Captain Marvel is. Crystal was ironically transmuted into a crystalline statue by the Reality Gem. Moon Knight was aged to decrepit husks of his former self by the Time Gem. Many heroes were warped into minions of Thanos by the Mind Gem, the corrupted horde managing to incapacitate Scarlet Witch. And poor Storm, she had the worst of it. Thanos had used the Soul Gem to fragment her soul into hundreds of different selves, leaving a cluster of Ororos and Munroes dazed and aimless. Doctor Strange had been run ragged trying to protect as many heroes as possible from the destruction that unfolded, but even he ran out of tricks to pull, and the first casualty that came of this fight was Adam Warlock, and Thanos ripped the Soul Stone from Warlock's forehead like a piece of popcorn shell from a tooth. The only one left unscathed after the Mad Titan's tirade was an unlikely "hero", it was Erik Lensherr: Magneto.

The once archnemesis to the Children of the Atom joined Charles Xavier's legion in service of protecting mutant-kind. No human amongst the alliance had the naivety to trust Magneto, but Charles Xavier, his brother in arms and rival of mind, vouched for him. When the Master of Magnetism and the Mad Titan faced off in the rubble of the altar, both exuded an air of confidence. Thanos smirked at the old man, "This universe has failed us both, Magneto. We are both exiles from our people, freaks, and we were forced to watch them die. A snap of my fingers will provide the karmic retribution against this fatally flawed dimension. Do you wish to be a witness to our mutual success? Or will I have to send you to Death?" he asked slowly stepping forward.

Magneto seemed unfazed, "To force the world to a premature conclusion is cowardice. You are an impatient child who skips to the end of a storybook. The world will end, but the beauty is in its persistence. The flicker of hope in a bygone dream," He responds, looking back at a fallen over Professor X. "And I know your dream is meet Death yourself. And if mutants, and everything else, are to persist, you must meet your retribution for those you have failed. So why don't you be a witness to our mutual success?" he asked with a sly grin creeping across his face.

Thanos was outraged, "You dare?!" he yelled as he held out his left arm and tried to activate the stones to eradicate Erik by closing his fist, but nothing happened. Thanos' hand remained open palm, and the gauntlet remained inert. Conversely, Magneto was holding out his hand, a translucent, blue field emanated around it. He was using his magnetism to forcefully keep Thanos' hand open, preventing him from using the Gems. "A glove made of Uru, how novel. It's a metal I seldom interact with. Its field was hard to fully manipulate. It took time for me to get a proper grip on it, so I had to stall with idle chitchat. Sorry it took so long, Charles." Magneto said cockily as he slowly advanced forward.

The Mad Titan grew further enraged. He began charging at Magneto, ready to grab him by the helmet with his free hand. In response, Magneto raised up Iron Man from a hole in a wall and yanked him forward to slam into Thanos. But Thanos was undeterred. He kept running until Magneto picked up and threw Colossus at Thanos, then Wolverine, then a series of other human metal projectiles until the purple behemoth slowed to a crawl. The deviant tried to swing at the old man, but Magneto always made sure he was just out of reach. Once Thanos was stopped, Magneto raised him into the air by his arm like a ragdoll. "You held the most powerful objects in the universe in a metal glove. That was your mistake." Magneto taunted as he removed his helmet to reveal his wispy white hair. He sent it towards the suspended gauntlet.

Charles Xavier watched in horror at what Magneto was about to do, "Erik, what are you doing?" Magneto ignored Charles as he peeled the pieces of the gauntlet off Thanos' hand and onto his helmet like pieces of paper mâché. Not until the pieces of the gauntlet holding the stones were firmly connected Magneto's helmet in formation like a crown, did he turn to face Charles. "What I always set out to do, Charles, to make a better world for our people." Erik answered, "I can feel the power surging through this helm. I have one shot to make everything right this time."

"But what about the dream? Peaceful coexistence!?" Charles called out, slowly crawling his way towards Erik, "Beauty in persistence? Did that mean nothing?"

"Not nothing. I shall keep your message to heart, Charles, my dear brother in arms. Humanity shall remain, but I am starting my life all over again, and my new world will be one where you never held me back." Magneto answered putting on the helmet. Professor X tried to stop him telepathically, but the Mind Gem within the helmet prevented any assault even without Erik directly wearing it. The old man's eyes glowed white, and Universe-203225 began to shift.

Meanwhile, another universe on the other side of infinity was facing a similar crisis, their Final Crisis. This was Earth-318, a world of action and mystery where the Gods walked among you, and you'd never know it because they were just like you. Hello viewer, I am the Phantom Stranger, the Spirit of Justice, and I will be your guide through understanding this world, and how it ends. The champions of this Earth were facing an apocalypse like no other, as the literal planet of Apokolips was facing Earth and its champions. Transported across the cosmos by the closest thing to evil itself, Darkseid brought his world and all its forces via Boom Tube to take the prize he so desperately desired, the Anti-Life Equation.

Burned into the very crust of the Earth was an extremely intricate formula that unlocked the secrets of the infinite multiverse. To wield its power meant one could dominate entire galaxies with a thought and eradicate them with a blink. The ruler of Apokolips had sent scouts to Earth before, Steppenwolf, Kallibak, Granny Goodness and her Female Furies, all fell to the might of the World's Finest, the Brave and the Bold: The Justice League.

On this world, the Justice League was much more, well, limited. After six years of operating, they never took on more than 10 members at a time. The roster over their tenure consisted of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, the Flash from a Golden Age, a few Green Lanterns here and there, Martian Manhunter, Hawkman, Hawkwoman, Cyborg, Shazam, and Doctor Fate served as a mystical consultant for the team. While other heroes such as the Blue Beetle, Firestorm, Green Arrow, and the Teen Titans operated, defending the world from evil and injustice, they were all free agents.

The Justice League never became the family the Justice League of other worlds became. This was likely the fault of a lack of the Martian Manhunter, the heart and soul of most Justice Leagues, around to hold the team together. For after the founding of the team in this world, the Martian spent one week around Batman, reading his mind, and constantly feeling that darkness within his head, he left Earth entirely.

Other major distinctions that should be noted about this Earth from other worlds like this one is that Batman operated for nearly 15 years before formation of the Justice League, and the Teen Titans were formed and led by the third Robin, Tim Drake. As I mentioned before the Flash of the Golden Age, Jay Garrick, is a part of the Justice League, as Barry Allen lost himself to the Speed Force to stop Eobard Thawne, the Reverse Flash. The Legion of Doom had yet to clash against the League in this world, as Lex Luthor had seen himself above other supervillains, and didn't see the need to team up with anyone. And lastly, Darkseid is here.

The forces of Apokolips ravaged Earth, the Justice League was caught off guard. Darkseid kept plans of invasion very secret, and at a vulnerable point in time, he struck. Some prophecies foretold that Darkseid would die by the hands of his son, Orion. So naturally, Darkseid killed Orion first before coming to Earth. Across the entire planet, whichever few members of the League could be in one place were smothered by tens of thousands of Parademons. Despite being a team, they were dreadfully uncoordinated. Local heroes and military would try their best to hold off however many they could, they lacked the resources to assist effectively. Their downfall was hubris, in efforts to be incorruptible, they failed to ever become a true collaborative unit. One member of the League understood this in hindsight, that was Kent Nelson, Doctor Fate.

Doctor Fate levitated over the Sahara Desert, casting a variety of offensive spells, sending mystic blasts onto the Parademons, creating eldritch monsters to destroy them, or banishing them to another dimension entirely. This was mostly the work of Nabu, the Lord of Order that wielded Kent as a vessel through the Helm of Fate. His decades long ally, Carter Hall, Hawkman, was having the time of his life, letting loose and slaughtering as many Parademons as he could. Meanwhile, Kent let the deity take control as he himself was watching over the rest of his team and the events of other battles across the planet through his omniscience.

Aquaman was successfully defending his kingdom alongside his military from the hordes of Parademons and the might of Kallibak, the son of Darkseid. This Aquaman was ever capable unlike other realities popularly observed. And Kallibak was always a minor threat compared to the other generals of Apokolips, so this was not a surprise. It almost gave Fate some relief, until he saw his other allies.

Cyborg was in Beijing fighting Steppenwolf. Fighting was a generous word. This Victor Stone had never joined the Titans, but rather joined the Justice League right off the bat, in the following week after the leaving of J'onn J'onzz. Perhaps this was to his detriment. For without the important training and reaffirming of his humanity, he never reached his true potential, and was isolated from the rest of the League for lacking much common ground, and now was greatly outmatched.

Flash was fighting the Apokoliptian general Kanto in Rio De Janeiro. The master martial artist was putting up a decent fight even with Garrick's speed. Perhaps he was slowing down in his old age. Jay Garrick did not belong as a paragon of this time. He was replacing someone else who was in their prime, and he was having trouble keeping up with time.

Shazam was being swarmed by thousands of Parademons in Australia, led by Virmin Vunderbar. Billy Batson thought he had found a family with the League. Superman was the greatest teacher one could ask for when it came to having such great power, Wonder Woman provided the gentle compassion he always sought. Despite being the youngest hero, he carried great wisdom and experience for his tireless work as a hero. Billy Batson has just turned 18 and was about to start college before the Crisis emerged. Would he ever truly get to grow up?

Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, and the Green Lantern Jessica Cruz were in London, clashing against Granny Goodness and her Furies. Diana Prince was stretched thin between evacuating citizens and fighting warriors on par with the Amazons she trained with. Even covered in bruises, blood, and debris, she gave the fleeing populace a reassuring smile. She'd never let herself be shown as vulnerable to people, and it exhausted her constantly. Kendra Saunders was an easy target for the Furies, she was one of the least experienced heroes there. She was the reincarnation of Shayera Hol, a legacy she never thought she could live up to, and hardly even remembers. Was her best truly the best she could do? The almost grief of who she used to be racks her and leads to further mistakes. Jessica Cruz is full of her own fears, and to wield her ring would require her to overcome them. This method of coping proves unhealthy, and while she's surviving the onslaught here for now, things could get worse if they survive this.

The other Green Lanterns: Veterans Hal Jordan and John Stewart, and fresher recruit: Simon Baz, would try and handle the invasion from space, but precise positioning of fleets by DeSaad would lead to the death of Baz, leaving only a black and green costume crawling with yellow energy. Simon Baz is a Green Lantern heavily overlooked, and he is multiversally sidelined in many other realities. He is in this one too, but at least Simon got a mention of doing something important here. Fate let out a disappointed sigh when he witnessed the death of Baz, but he was taken out of this brief mourning when he took notice of the final two members of the League.

They were the World's Finest, Batman and Superman. Even if they weren't the longest acting heroes on the League, these two were the ones who had gone through the most during their tenures. The two of them were the textbook definition of "Brothers in Arms", and instrumental for each other's growth as heroes. Superman helped Batman become more hopeful and heroic after the death of Jason Todd, and Batman helped Superman understand the greatest power of the human spirit. They were fending off the heart of Apokolips' Invasion in Metropolis. Batman sent the Titans to control the chaos in Gotham while Superman alone battled Darkseid.

The Kryptonian put up a good fight, the epitome of hopelessness was launched through buildings by the symbol of hope, slammed down into pavement, and hammered at mercilessly, but after every blow, Darkseid would get back up as if nothing phased him. The sheer size of Darkseid's armada was able to blot out the Sun, and after effortlessly burning through Superman's remaining reserves, Clark Kent was forcefully kneeled before Darkseid. "You did not last as long as I was hoping for, Kal-El. Frankly, I am disappointed. No matter, you will be at your strongest again soon, and at your rightful place: by my side."

Darkseid placed one hand on top of Superman's head, forcing him down, while he opened his other hand to reveal a swirling white matrix of incomprehensible information. Batman watched in horror as the pieces of the Anti-Life Equation stretched out from the hand of Darkseid like tendrils snaking into the mind of Clark. Instinctively, he reached into his utility belt and put on a pair of Kryptonite laced brass knuckles, "Please don't make me do this, Clark. Fight it!" Batman yelled towards his compatriot.

The Kryptonian rose and turned around to face the Dark Knight, his eyes glowed bright red. No yellow sun was needed when powered by the secrets of the universe itself. He slowly hovered upward, focused its gaze upon the Bat. Two words crept from his lips, "Darkseid is..." and then he darted down forward. Fate witnessed as Batman put up his dukes, time seemed to slow to a crawl as Batman and what used to be Superman were about to make contact, and then they stopped.

Doctor Fate stared in confusion as his view of the battle halted. He regained control of his body from Nabu and looked around, time had stopped in Egypt as well. Hawkman was about to decapitate a Parademon with his mace, but he was frozen midair. Everything seemed to gain a sinister grey shade, the surroundings distorted around Fate, everything became twisted and wrong. It was as if Order had no place here, he went to cast a spell to break free from this façade, but his helmet was plucked from his head and held in front of him by one of Fate's great nemeses, Klarion the Witch Boy.

And there he was, what appeared to be a little Victorian boy, looking no older than 13, with pale skin, spiked hair, dressed in black, floating in the air with his legs crossed, caressing his familiar, an orange tabby cat named Teekl. As Doctor Fate was an emissary of the Lords of Order, Klarion was the same to the Lords of Chaos. This was a demon taking the form of a child, anchored to this realm by that cat. The two of them sworn enemies, but their relationship had gotten to the point where the fight felt more of an obligatory song and dance. Klarion was more a nuisance than a nemesis to Dr. Nelson at this point, "In a bit of a tickle, aintcha?" he asked with a smirk.

"That is an understatement, the world is doomed if I don't act now." Nelson answered firmly. Without his helmet, Kent was powerless to do anything. He went to grab his helmet back from the boy, but he merely floated backwards away from him.

"I mean, it's doomed even if you do act. Your name is Doctor Fate, you knew this was gonna happen the moment you put the dinner bell on!" Klarion retorted as he stood up and walked in circles around Fate.

The good doctor paused, he knew Klarion was right, but the Lords of Order barred him from preventing the natural order of the universe, "Yes."

"Hate to say you finally beat me. Order beats Chaos. I just came to congratulate you!"

"What do you mean, I've won?"

"Consider the following, the Anti Life Equation, used by Mr. Stoneface out there, is used to overpower the free wills of any sentient lifeform, and do the user's bidding. Everybody is doing the same thing, all the time, no matter what. It's all predictable, straightforward, and…" Klarion trailed off, hoping to let Nelson figure it out on his own.

"Orderly." Nelson answered with a shudder in his voice.

"Ding ding ding! That is correct!" Klarion exclaimed, knocking on the front of Kent's helm, ringing it like a dinner bell. "This is exactly what your bosses wanted: Perfect Order. Now, obviously, my bosses are kind of mad about this. And if they get mad, I might get dead. And I know that you probably don't want things to go this way, right?" Klarion asked tilting his head curiously. "What is it that you want?"

Kent stared with his own eyes. He was very old, nearly a century man now, but the magic in the helm sustained him to look around 70. But that deity within that helmet was very controlling, and very vengeful. Without it now, Kent could think much clearer. "What is it that you are proposing?"

"Answer my first question, old man. What is it that you want?" Klarion asked again with a raspy giggle.

Kent looked back at Carter in freeze frame, he thinks back to the other remaining JSA members Diana and Jay, and then the rest of the Justice League, "This small band of heroes is all I have left in this world. I've spent so long defending this world from chaos, I've never lived in it. Inza's gone. Almost all the Society is gone. I have felt alone for a very long time. The League is all that I have left. Ensuring this world's safety is all I have left." He continued with a voice full of regret. "I want to save them, and everyone else from the Anti Life Equation." Kent stated with conviction.

"I think I can make that work." Klarion answered with a cheeky smile. "I'd love for us to finally team up! Order and Chaos! Best Buds for the rest of your slowly decaying life!" he added laughing.

Kent took a deep breath; he already knew he had made a grave mistake in allying himself with the Witch Boy. "What is it that we must do?"

It appeared Klarion wasn't listening, he was scratching into the helmet, seemed to be a sigil of some sort. "Well, hate to tell you this, this world, this universe, is royally doomed. Nothing in this universe is powerful enough to save it." He said callously.

Nelson was outraged, "What do you mean?! I thought we were teaming up?!"

"I said this universe, Doc, there are others. You and I both know the confines of reality don't mean carp to us. What if I told you right now, there's another universe that is about to go bye-bye, with an artifact just as powerful we can use?" Klarion proposed tossing the helmet back to Kent. "I put a sealing spell on it. It should keep Nabu out of your ear, at least for about 10 minutes. He's already burning through it."

Kent Nelson examined the sigil, then put the tampered helmet back on to turn back into Doctor Fate. Klarion's little sigil also sent his divine sight in to the right direction in where to find Universe-203225 at its final moments. Through the helm's clarity he viewed the history of this world and its heroes. "This world has faced fewer struggles, and even united, it falls to one it was unprepared for. I pity it, but what am I doing with this world?"

"We're gonna be doing something called an Amalgam, Universes 1996 did something like that a long time back. They needed some shmuck called Access for it. We're not gonna need him this time, we're doing our own thing. We're going to combine the two universes into one, and everyone in each. That's gonna make Darkseid and the guy with the magic rocks mix into one, and the power of the Anti-Life Equation and those shiny rocks will cancel each other out and kill them both." Klarion explained with a shrug. "Or something like that, I'm honestly not one hundred per diem sure."

"This will catastrophically change billions of lives. It will be complete chaos."

"Yeah, but your friends, and everybody will be alive, in some sense. That's what you wanted, right Doc?"

Doctor Fate sighed, "T'is the only way. Well, I suppose we must go the apex of our Armageddon if we are to make this work." He said opening an ankh of Fate and flying through it, and appearing in the center of Metropolis, where he saw Superman; puppeteered by the equation and dangerously close to Batman. Klarion was already there, and time was still stopped. Darkseid towered over everything like a statue, unmoving and ominous. Klarion's magic kept everything at bay, as the Lords of Chaos supercharged the demon's power for one last ditch effort to save their hides.

"Here's the process, you're gonna open a rift in reality. Then, I'm gonna grab that dying universe by the silly strings, and yank into this one. Cast one more big spell to duct tape them together, and if we're lucky, the Anti-Life Equation will collide with the pop rocks, and we might live through this." Klarion explained frantically.

"You don't sound as sure of this as you did before." Fate mentioned, now a little nervous.

"Chaos demon here, certainty is lost on me. Let's just do it!" Klarion answered impatient.

Doctor Fate focused on an area between Darkseid and themselves to open the rift. He started gesturing his hands to cast sigils in a perimeter around the area. Fate whispered incantations into the helm as his eyes shined with an incandescent white light. This was such a complex spell, he had done it before, but not for purposes such as this. Within the circle, cracks formed in the ground, no, in spacetime. The multiverse was visible within the crevice, the endless universes seemed to revolve around like clothes in a dry-cleaners rack until the avatars of Order and Chaos found their target. From what they could see, Thanos was defeated, and Magneto was forming the Infinity Helmet, "Grab it, Klarion!", Fate yelled, clearly straining himself to keep this world in grabbing distance.

Klarion smirked as he set his cat on the ground to free up his hands. They emanated with crackling green energy, he sent two eldritch hands into the rift, and grabbed the borders of the universe to drag through the rift. Many would question the physics of dragging a universe into another, but not Klarion. If it didn't make sense, and caused chaos, it was his forte. With great effort, a mini-incursion began. "Okay, we got it, get the magic stapler and get these babies together!"

That last part confused Fate briefly, but he deciphered his gibberish and began casting his final spell. Golden chains emerged from Fate's hands and wrapped around the emerging bubble coming from the rift and, effectively, stapling it to their own world. But by the time this started, the sigil on the back of the helm burned out, and Nabu was back.

Kent's consciousness was dragged from the outside world back into the helmet. All the old man saw was a black void, and the helmet itself floating in from of him. "You have forsaken your oath, Kent Nelson. Working with the Lords of Chaos will bring great consequences to you." The deity boomed from inside the helmet to Kent.

"You aren't much better, Nabu. If I were not to act, the universe would be conquered by Darkseid. All order, no chaos. Our purpose is the maintain balance, is it not? Have you become so overzealous to stand by as free will is eradicated?" Kent chastised the manifestation of the deity, not backing down to its threats.

"You are naïve, Kent Nelson. The quest for balance was merely because the Lords of Order and Chaos were at a stalemate. Now that we have the advantage, we will let the universe take its natural order, and we shall eliminate chaos from this realm." Nabu answered coldly. "You have been a lapdog to the Lords of Order your whole life, you are beholden to me. You cannot resist my power." The same chains Kent conjured to hold the worlds together were now ensnaring Kent, strangling him.

Kent's strength was fading. Without Nabu sustaining him, his age was catching up with him. He'd been fighting for over 80 years; both the Justice Society and the League owe much to him. He had one last thing to say to the deity he'd been hosting, "Well bollocks to that, I haven't been fighting for Order. You have been just as much a tool to me as I to you. My whole life, I've been fighting so that the good people of this world could live the lives I could never have. I have been fighting so that people who commit acts of kindness are rewarded with kindness returned to them, and those who harm the innocent are dealt the same harm back as well. My whole life, I have been fighting for Justice!" he retorted with gusto.

And thus, was my queue. If you don't remember, I, the Phantom Stranger, am the spirit of Justice. He invoked my calling, and I was much obliged to help one of my longest standing champions. My power extends beyond the Lords of Order, for I am beholden to a power higher than even them.

I appeared outside the Helm, and removed it from the good Doctor's head. I easily exorcised the deity from his anchor. "Finish what you've started Kent Nelson, serve justice to this world, and save it." I requested of Kent as I imbued the soulless helm with just enough of my own power to complete the job. This interference was breaking the rules a tad, but I think my Employer would understand in such dire circumstances. I then returned to my place outside of it all to continue observing.

Kent Nelson nodded to me and looked upon the new helm. I dubbed it the Helm of Iscariot, named after a past life of mine. It carried just enough of my own power so that the Doctor could fulfill his goal. Nelson put the helmet over his head and had full control over the powers within. He then continued to cast the chains to bind the universes together. "Here goes everything," were the last words Doctor Fate spoke as a single entity.

Klarion appeared very confused to what just transpired, but he seemed to get a kick out of it, "It's been fun screwing with you all these years, Doc. See you on the other side."

With a few final incantations, the worlds collided, the three first residents of the Amalgam were created. Thanos and Darkseid became Ghanoseid. Magento and Doctor Fate would become Erik Nelson, the Fatal Compass, and Charles Xavier and the Witch Boy would become Khlarion X. After them, the world continued to fuse counterparts together across both universes. The Man of Steel gained a hammer, the Dark Knight lost his sight but saw so much more, an Emerald Knight gained the powers of a Scarlet Witch, and many more faced similar amalgamations. Ghanoseid had disintegrated from all that transpired. Khlarion X may have been created, but he was nowhere to be seen in the remains of this new battlefield. For even before the worlds collided, Magneto had used the Infinity Helm to completely alter the history of his world.

As the universes collided, creating more and more amalgamations of the heroes, villains, and civilians for this new world, one more casualty had taken place. Erik Lensherr and Kent Nelson's actions had both resulted in their own deaths. Doctor Fate had used up all his magic, and Magneto could not survive the effects of changing his world's history to not be inhibited by Charles Xavier. But for their sacrifice, the Fatal Compass finally knew peace.

Even I was not spared from the Amalgamation. The Phantom Stranger was combined with Uatu the Watcher to become the Phantom Watcher. Perhaps as repercussion for acting, we are barred from interfering again. I suppose all that is left for us to do is watch, and tell you dear reader, how the story of the Amalgam Universe shall unfold.

Chapter 2: Another Day for the L.M.I.

This universe was born quite recently. Heroes born on opposite sides of infinity lost their lives to preserve their realities by combing them to form a new one. The actions of Doctor Fate and Magneto altered history in nearly unfathomable ways. Luckily, they're just fathomable enough for me to explain to you in story form. I am the Phantom Watcher, the once Spirit of Justice, and an observer the same as you who must not interfere with the newly unfolding universe, known only as the Amalgam. These are the stories of the champions which reside in it.

We look to 6 months after what the residents of this new universe call the Infinity Crisis. Ghanoseid was inexplicably defeated by Erik Nelson, the Fatal Compass, at the cost of his life. He would be remembered as one of the greatest heroes to ever live. This world was unfortunately not the Mutant Supreme world Magneto wanted. History was rewritten to incorporate the events that unfolded in its parent universes, leading to its denizens to take on traits of two people, resulting in changes of appearance, age, and especially powers. But after Ghanoseid's defeat, his forces were handily defeated over the course of a month, and the heroes of this world took great efforts to help the places ravaged by war to rebuild. But in all the chaos, opportunistic supervillains still commit crimes for their own selfish benefit.

An example of such villainy could be seen in the streets of Neo-Metropolis. A shipment of weapons was hijacked by Dirk Manheim and his gang of thugs known as the Wrecking Gang. One of the trucks, carrying shipments of assorted guns and bombs, was driven by Manheim, a sleazy man in a green suit and a purple ski mask who called himself the Wrecker. A cigar hung out of his mouth as he drove. The other was driven by Brian Nimball, who wore a red and white jumpsuit, and black headpiece similarly shaped to handlebars. He was also outfitted with a pair of wooden legs, enchanted to provide him enhanced speed and stomping power, he was otherwise known as Jackhammer. The two trucks were on pursuit by police, but the trucks plowed through the streets, pushing cars aside, and charged past any traffic lights with reckless abandon.

"Jackhammer, what's the situation?" Manheim asked over a radio in the truck.

"We're losing the cops, only one car still on our tail. But that ain't what I'm worried about, boss." Jackhammer responded.

"Relax, if he shows up, I got things covered this time. Send Atomic Ball out to take that last car and get to the bridge." Wrecker ordered as he floored the pedal and kept driving.

Jackhammer was still apprehensive of what may come next. It had just started raining too. He banged his fist on a window behind the driver's seat that peered into the back of the truck. "Take the last one out, Marty."

The back of the second truck opened as a figure in a green and yellow hazmat suit stood holding a large wrecking ball on a chain. The visor of the suit flared with a radioactive green light as the wrecking ball caught fire of the same color. Martin Franklin, the Atomic Ball spun the ball on the chain to wind up, and he threw it with great power on the final police car on their tail.

The officer in pursuit, Darryl Turpin, braced for impact and slammed the brakes of his car. The chain of the wrecking ball extended far and nearly crushed the poor detective. That was, until thunder cracked, and what many consider a god dropped from the skies and caught the wrecking ball in hand, yanking it from the Atomic Ball's hand.

This was "god" was a mountain of a man clad in a black armored suit. His regalia was decorated by red boots, a winged steel headband, a gold and red shield branded with a lightning bolt on his chest. He wielded the mighty hammer Krypton, a weapon forged in the heart of a dying star, and it was crafted from the last remaining material from the lost world of Asgard. The regal regalia and magnificent weapon were what made up who could be described as the greatest hero of this world: Thor-El, the Last Son of Asgard, but the people of Earth more commonly refer to him as… Thunderman.

"Glad I got here just in time Turpin. You just can't help but stay out of danger, can you?" he teased in a booming voice, paired with a reassuring smile.

"I owe you big guy, now go get those punks!" Detective Turpin called out from the car before driving back to reconvene with the other officers and assist in the path of wreckage the Gang had caused.

Thunderman had already disarmed Atomic Ball, so he was his first target. He tossed the wrecking ball on the side of the road so no oncoming cars would hit it. He spun his hammer around, creating a small gust of wind, and then thrust it forward to send him flying towards the rear truck.

"Wrecker, Thunderman's on our tail!" Atomic Ball yelled into a radio in his hazmat suit. "He got my ball too!"

Manheim was surprisingly not worried about the arrival of the God of Tomorrow, he was inexplicably confident, "Don't worry about it. Jackhammer, stop the truck. Steamroller, get my new toy."

Both cars made abrupt stops on the middle of the bridge, they created a blockage that held back traffic from the opposite oncoming direction. Jackhammer and Atomic Ball jumped out of their truck and stepped to the middle of the street to face against the oncoming Thunderman. Jackhammer started tapping his foot against the pavement, already making a few slight cracks. Meanwhile, without his wrecking ball, Franklin ignited his hands with green flames and prepared to fight with his fists.

By then, Thunderman arrived on the scene, floating above the two thugs, "Ho, Wrecking Gang! Pulling another job for Mannheim, are you? Times truly must be tough to keep going back to do his dirty work." He greeted, sounding almost disappointed. The Wrecking Gang had been some of Thor-El's most recurring foes in the 10 years he'd been acting, and no matter how many times he's beaten them, they kept going back to crime. Part of him wanted to blame society for forcing them into this heinous niche, but Thor knew that at this point, it was a combination of greed and a certain benefactor.

"I advise you turn yourselves in, nobody else has to get hurt. I don't want to do this as much as you do." Thunderman called down, trying to diffuse the situation before any more violence could occur. Despite centuries of warrior training, three decades as a human showed him the value of peaceful resolution. "You were always the reasonable one, Martin. Manheim hasn't been reliable to you. Stand down, and Stark Labs can help you. The criminal life is beneath someone of your intellect." He continued, trying to talk down Atomic Ball specifically.

Martin Franklin was an ex-scientist at Stark Labs, back when they developed weapons. After trying to stop the testing of an experimental bomb Franklin himself invented, his entire body was completely irradiated in the aftershock, leaving him a glowing, green skeleton confined to a hazmat suit. The poor test results had Stark Labs use Franklin as a scapegoat, and Manheim took advantage of having a genius pumped full of radioactive energy in his Gang, proposing a transaction of lending his powers for some cash earned on jobs be set aside in research for a cure. Evidently, nothing had worked so far. Despite the possibility of a second chance, Atomic Ball pounded his fists together, "Not a chance Thunderman, I can't be cured. I'm too far gone for anything they can do." He said with a twinge of regret in his voice.

Thunderman's face fell hearing his response. "So be it. Have at thee!" he yelled, dropping to the ground, and swinging his hammer at Jackhammer. The wily, wooden-legged, workman darted away from the hammer and got behind Thor, jumping up and landing a few lightning-quick kicks to the back. A now slightly ticked off Thor turned around and grabbed Jackhammer by his leg and launched him into the parked truck.

Atomic Ball briefly looked back to check on his compatriot, but then focused his attention on Thunderman, firing off a pair of green blasts of flame aimed at the center of his lightning bolt insignia. The thunder god was pushed back but started to spin his hammer around in from of him, creating a vacuum that dispersed the flames as they approached him.

As the fiery attack hadn't yet ceased, Thunderman launched his hammer at Atomic Ball. But as a nuclear physicist, Atomic Ball knew a handy trick with radiation. He aimed his hands at the oncoming hammer and blasted his radioactive fire at it. The radiation enveloped the hammer, and sapped it of its inertia, causing the hammer to drop onto the ground with a heavy thud.

Before Thunderman had time to react and call his hammer back to his hand, the last member unseen of the Wrecking Gang, the Rampaging Bulldozer, rampaged in and slammed headfirst into Thunderman. Marci Faulkner was a behemoth of a woman, but not much of a talker. She was clad in bright orange tights with purple shoulder armor and a helmet that covered her whole head. This attire was combined with a pair of massive, shielded gauntlets that when combined, looked like the front of a bulldozer. Thunderman was knocked over by the Rampager's assault. Jackhammer had also recovered and dashed over to start unrelentingly stomping into Thunderman.

All of this seemed to more annoy Thor than hurt him, but he was certainly annoyed. His eyes crackled with electricity as he screamed, "ENOUGH!" as thunder crashed around them, startling the three active Gang members. He fired bolts of lightning from his eyes that crashed into Rampaging Bulldozer, knocking her back as he stood back up. "I grow tired of this." He said with little patience left in his voice, raising his hand to call his hammer back. "Stand down now, before I-" he threatened before being cut off as he was hit in the chest by a thrown crowbar, forcing him back into the indent he just got out of.

The crowbar floated back up and returned to the hand of its wielder, the Wrecker. "Sorry, that took so long boys, I had to make sure this thing worked how I thought. News flash: it did!" Manheim gloated as he brandished his fancy weapon to the rest of his Gang.

Thunderman was actually in pain from that last blow, whatever that crowbar did, it was weakening his great power. "Must've been a long time since you've felt as weak as us, huh Sparkles?" Manheim taunted as he stepped over to the fallen Thunderman and proceeded to slam the crowbar into him again, a pained groan escaping the Asgardian. "You Asgardians are magical beings, could never wrap my head around the stuff. But according to your little brother, this stuff is made from Ad-th Metal, an alloy designed to nullify your magical field or some dumb shit like that." Wrecker explained cockily, taking a drag on his cigar before taking another solid whack at Thor.

Thunderman staggered to his feet to try and call his hammer forth to parry the Wrecker's strikes, but every few inches the hammer would drag across the pavement closer to Thor, Manheim would send him back a few feet. His strength faded with each blow, even trying to fire lightning from his eyes only resulted in faint sparkles. "Without your Asgardian magic, you're just like us." Manheim taunted as he swung his crowbar up into Thunderman's jaw, knocking him to the ground.

Thor lie on the ground as he stared up at the four members of the Wrecking Gang. Just six months prior, he was trading blows with a master of the universe, but now he was at the mercy of four schlubs in construction gear? No, the Asgardian had just one more trick up his sleeve, "Not just like you, Manheim. There's one major difference." Thor answered as he put his finger to an earpiece in his headband, "My team is a lot better than yours. L.M.I., Assemble!" he shouted, calling forth the League of Marvelous Individuals.

Manheim grew worried, he had known this was a possibility, but frankly he didn't have a plan for them. But to maintain control of the situation, he maintained his bravado. "Okay boys, minor setback. Fugget about it, we can take whatever they throw a-!" Mannheim was cut off as a steel disc crashed into the Wrecker's face with a loud crack, and it bounced off and returned to its thrower at the other end of the bridge.

Standing at the other side of the bridge was a man clad in a red leather jacket branded with a star on the chest, with bolts of lightning crawling off from it like the corona of the Sun. He wore blue padded pants, brownish red boots with golden wings on the collars, red gloves, and a midnight blue aviator's cowl adorned with old pilot goggles. The man caught the disc, which was actually a helmet, also with golden wings on the side. He put it back on to reveal a Sergeant's arrow branded on the front. This was Esteban J. Garrick, known since the second World War as Sergeant Speed.

"You should've called us sooner, Thor. You know I've been aching to stretch my legs!" Sarge yelled as he took a runner's stance and, in a flash, he blitzed across the bridge only to be met by Jackhammer, the wooden-legged crook leaving behind a trail of broken street behind him. The two speedsters raced around the bridge, trading punches and kicks. Garrick was leagues faster, but precise rapid stomps by Nimball created potholes to slow the sergeant down.

Joined by the Sergeant, descended from a beam of light from space, the elegant woman known as the Wonder Crystal was teleported to the battlefield. Diana Amaquelin was the princess of the Inhuman Amazons, and her attire dictated as such. Her amber hair was wrapped behind her in a black band with circular design in the back. She wore golden yellow armor with an eagle and diamond branded across her chest, paired with a blue battle skirt and thigh-high red boots. Her wrists were adorned with golden bracelets, and had a canteen strapped to her side. She unscrewed the cap off the canteen. Through a wave of her hand, she summoned the water from the canteen and fashioned the stream into a lasso.

The Rampaging Bulldozer stared Diana dead in the face. The brutish woman saw red and charged straight into Wonder Crystal, holding together her gauntlets to present her bulldozer blade. She wasn't Diana's priority though. Her sights were focused on Thor. He was downed, too weakened to get up and fight. She was a protector first, a warrior second, she had to help him. But first she had to stop the behemoth charging at her. Diana ran towards the Bulldozer, up her blade, and leapt into the air, boosted by a gust of wind. The Rampaging Bulldozer charged right past her original position. Diana cast her lasso down as the water flowed around Faulkner like a ribbon, then the stream tightened around her shoulders, ensnaring her like a viper.

"I do not wish to fight you, but I hold no reservations against such, I merely wish to aide my friend." Diana pleaded, trying to resolve their conflict peacefully.

This did not work, as Bulldozer charged back and slammed into Diana with her dozer blade.

Wonder Crystal was now a little miffed. She got back up, took the lasso still tied around the giant woman's shoulders and yanked it down so it restrained her arms. With a blast of freezing air from Diana's hand, the water lasso froze into ice, and the ice spread across the rest of Rampaging Bulldozer's body until she was encased in a thin sheet all around, "I'm sorry, I'll thaw you out after we're done here," Diana called out before she ran towards Thor and Mannheim.

Sergeant Speed meanwhile was a lot more invested in his fight. Since the War, he'd slowed down a little in his age. He was easily handling the fiend up close, but Jackhammer always managing to keep his distance by destroying pieces of the bridge with his stomps. "Diana, ayúdame!" Sarge called out as a plan formulated as he bobbed and weaved around the cracks in the bridge, "Mind patching up these holes with ice. I have an idea. Ándale!" he shouted back with urgency as he was rapidly blocking strikes from Jackhammer.

The princess looked back and sighed as she was further interrupted from aiding Thunderman. "Give me a moment," Diana responded as she looked down to the water under the bridge and clenched her fists. She concentrated on the water and graudally raised her arm as shapeless blobs of water rose from the river, filing through the cracks and filling them. With a smile and a wave of her hand, a chill of air rushed from it and froze over the cracks.

Jackhammer looked around to see the icy road and looked at the Sergeant confused, "What was your plan, old man?"

Sergeant Speed stood in place as his eyes darted around the area, making some mental calculations before taking his helmet off and whipped it at one of the bridge's side railings. The helmet bounced off the railing, then rocketed right towards Jackhammer. Jackhammer instinctively flinched to the side when he saw Garrick throw it. The helmet missed but Jackhammer slipped on one of the ice patches when he sidestepped. He slid to the right, the helmet bounced back off the other side railing behind him and then back into the crook, then back into a railing, then back to where Jackhammer ended up sliding, then continuing the cycle in a spiral motion until he was right in front of the Sergeant.

Esteban caught his returning helmet and readjusted it back on his head. Jackhammer seemed a little delirious from all the blows. "Now son, let's be a little more respectful to public infrastructure next time, okay?" Sarge teased before cracking his knuckled, and throwing a heavy right hook sending the wooden-legged wrongdoer to the street.

At this point, Atomic Ball was ready to make a break for it. With Diana and the Sergeant occupied, and Thor currently incapacitated, he ran towards the other end of the bridge. Luckily, he was able to retrieve his wrecking ball. He looked back to the ongoing fight, while Franklin was loyal to his team, Thunderman's offer to work to help cure him was also enticing. Then there was the option to just get the hell out of dodge.

This difficult decision would be made for the Atomic Ball as the sound of big band jazz music slowly got louder and louder. A powerful blast of concussive force crashed into him from the skies. "Nice suit 23-19. I'd hate to tear it and cause a mushroom cloud," a voice called out as a man clad head to toe in shiny, sleek, silver and hot-rod red armor, save for the right side of his face to reveal a black man with a stylish goatee. This was the League of Marvelous Individual's core source of funding, the brash and boisterous 25-year-old Victor Stark, known otherwise to the world as Cyberman. This was one of the Amalgam's greatest examples of the merging universes altering the attributes of a person.

Atomic Ball staggered from the initial blast, but returned to posture, "Your father's irresponsibility made me this way, Stark! I've been waiting for this for a long time!" he yelled up at the metal man, winding up his wrecking ball, charging it with his radioactive energy, and launching it up at Cyberman.

Victor managed to avoid the initial assault, but when Atomic Ball yanked the wrecking ball back, it slammed into Cyberman's leg, damaging the repulsor booster within stabilizing his flight. To avoid going into a spinout midair, Stark took his fight to the ground, "Listen Mr. Chernobyl, I know how much of an ass my pops was more than anybody. But messing with the LMI, my people, especially Thunderman back there, is gonna cause you a world of hurt!" he announced as he spread himself out to fully expose his chest. The arc-reactor in the center, engraved with a thin "C" for branding, glowed with bluish-white light. He was charging up a powerful chest-mounted unibeam. Atomic Ball retaliated with charging up a potent blast of his own. "This is for years of my life," he yelled at Cyberman before letting loose. Stark fired off his laser and it collided with the other, causing a loud explosion.

With the calvary arriving and handily disposing of his crew, Mannheim was distressed. He ran through possible scenarios on what he could do to weasel his way out of this mess. Running wasn't viable, both sides of the bridge were covered, and the bridge was 50 feet in the air over water. Fighting didn't seem the smartest idea either. Going back for this heist would land him another twenty to life in the Iron Vault. "Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I'm killing him." Mannheim took a drag on his cigar and tossed the butt aside. He grabbed the crowbar and raised it over Thunderman. Wonder Crystal, Sergeant Speed, and Cyberman were all running towards the center of the bridge just out of reach to intercept him. Mannheim then swung straight down.

Thor looked up, awaiting what may be his demise. He thought to himself, "Is this really how I go out? A normal human in a tacky suit with a magic crowbar? The gates of Valhalla will be open to me because of a man with a crowbar? This must have been how Jason felt when it happened to him. I have failed the city of Neo Metropolis, I failed Lois, I'm coming brother. I'm sorry everyone.

This silent introspection before death would be interrupted by Mannheim being beaned in the head by a dense, wooden stick. Dirk fell back and hit the pavement, the crowbar flew out of his hand and hit him on the head, knocking the Wrecker out. A grappling hook then shot from the shadows, latching onto the crowbar and yanking back to the abyss from whence it came. Sarge was the first of the other Leaguers to reach the two of them. He looked down to see the thrown baton and picked it up. It was a fine dark red mahogany with a gold tip. Esteban knew their savior and looked up at the nearby buildings. He promptly gave him a salute, "Thanks for the save, soldier."

The savior in question was a shadowy figure clad in a black cape and cowl. Sharp, curved ears adorned the top that could be construed as either bat ears or devil horns. The eyes of the cowl were dark crimson, and the costume beneath the cape had a symbol of two "B"s with a batwing coming off the sides. The reclusive defender of Goth's Kitchen came to the last second assistance to his close friends and allies yet again. God Bless the Blind Bat. He looked back to the others on the bridge, and then was gone in a flash.

Diana and Esteban helped Thor to his feet. "You gotta be more careful, big guy. Aye, never thought I'd be asking that to you." The Sergeant teased, giving the god a pat on the back.

Diana reached into bag attached to her belt next to her canteen. Inside was a few granola bars and bandages, she handed Thor one of each. "Just relax Thor, we'll get you patched up," she assured to him like a sweet and doting mother. She was a 6'4" brick house of a woman carrying healthy snacks for her friends. Of the members of the League of Marvelous Individuals, Diana was the matriarch of sorts, and she played the role to perfection.

Thor gave Diana a side hug with one arm and applied the bandage on the side of his jaw. "Thank you, Diana. To both of you, I owe you my life. But that just means you both only owe me 17 of your lives instead of 18. That's right, I keep count." He joked with a jovial grin. Thor bent down and picked up his hammer and hung it on a notch in his belt.

Victor was busy handcuffing the other members of the gang and dragging them all into one place. Stark carefully dropped a chunk of lead into the hazmat suit of Atomic Ball for good measure. He was simultaneously on phone call in his helmet with SHIELD, "Now tell me, how did these guys, a week after being released from jail, manage to get clearance to transport MY lab's new weapons?" he asked sounding furious. "What do you MEAN, they had really good disguises?! One's got wooden legs, one's basically a minotaur, and then there's the glowing garbage bag!" he yelled into his helmet exasperated.

Victor oversaw pretty much everything behind the scenes for the League. Stark handled most of the funding, relations with the Superhuman Intelligence, Experimentation, and Legislative Division, new technology, public relations, and even merchandizing deals. On top of that, he also was the one most often monitoring world events to then transport the heroes to places they are needed. All of this resulted in a cyborg that never has time to sleep, constantly overworked, and is stressed to the nth degree. But despite all that, he keeps a flashy, suave façade to the public.

Stark walked over to the truck as he berated back and forth with the agents on the other end, "Whatever, just send two Class 1 containment units, one Class 4, and a Class 5 for the radioactive one. I want resources put in for how to cure that one. He might prove useful when he's not a threat," he ordered, starting to pass some sympathy onto his foe. Cyberman scanned the contents of the vehicle until he noticed a device attached under the hood. It seemed like a tracker, but with something else attached. Before he could garner further analysis of the device, it beeped twice, and exploded, causing a chain reaction to the rest of the truck.

Time slowed down for Thunderman, he watched as the truck slowly contorted and expanded from the internal blast. He acted on instinct, and faster than a speeding lightning bolt, he blitzed right between the truck and Cyberman, taking the brunt of the explosion for his friend. Diana, and surprisingly Esteban were left in the dust. It'd seemed with the crowbar out of vicinity, he regained his strength quickly. "You're back to 18 now, Victor," the God of Tomorrow teased as he was covered in soot from the blast. He was mainly unharmed, the magical field surrounding the Asgardian doing as such.

Victor laughed sheepishly, "Thanks big guy, but I could've taken it," he said brushing off the potential near death experience. "I'm surprised Sarge wasn't the one that saved me. You're getting slower, old man." He teased to Esteban with a chortle.

Esteban laughed off the slight and adjusted his helmet, "You better respect your elders, Cyberman, we can always surprise you. Just beam us back to the Watchtower, okay ese," he requested, a little shaken by Stark's comment.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll show you a surprise," Victor muttered under his breath as he opened up a panel in his forearm, typed in a few coordinates and hit a button.

From the heavens came beams of white and blue light. They homed in on a signal given by the identification cards held by each of the members. In a blinding flash, Thunderman, Wonder Crystal, Sergeant Speed, and Cyberman were gone; dematerialized from that location.

Up in orbit, revolved a space station. The silver satellite was known as the Watchtower. This was another piece of sophisticated equipment owned and operated by Victor Stark. The center fragment of the station was the base of operations for the League of Marvelous Individuals. There were living quarters for each of the members, an armory, training room, and in the center of the center; a roundtable surrounded by ten chairs, and not much room for more. A chair at the head of the table was draped in a purple cape, it belonged to the Fatal Compass.

The meeting table also doubled as the pad for teleportation to and from the Watchtower. Thor, Diana, and Victor appeared standing right on top of it, whereas Esteban materialized a few feet above the pad, hitting the ground with a light thud. "Ouch…you suck, Victor," the Sergeant said through gritted teeth as he staggered back to his feet.

Thunderman stepped off the table and walked out to the windows peering off into space. Esteban and Diana were off having their own conversation, something about the Sergeant's unbearably spicy cooking. Cyberman joined Thor's side as they looked off into the infinite void.

"I thought it was it today, Victor. I got impatient, impulsive, and I nearly got killed by Mannheim. It was embarrassing. That to me is like you getting defeated by the boy with the rings. I felt more mortal today than usual." Thor explained to Victor as he removed his helmet and placed it under his arm.

"I catch your drift, Thor. All the time we spend fighting aliens, monsters, guys from other dimensions, we underestimate the threats back home." Victor replied in understanding.

"The thrill of battle, it hasn't been the same. The greatest evils are purged from this realm thanks to Fate, may he rest in Valhalla. Nothing I do to help feels like it makes a difference anymore. I love Midgard, everything I do is because of that love. But this realm has built its own champions. I question if it needs me anymore." Thor lamented as he stared off into space, a universe of potential for him to go off and save.

"I'd hold your horses, Mr. Champion. I wouldn't say all the greatest evils are gone." Victor interjected as he displayed a hologram of the tracking device from his cybernetic eye. The word "Jotunheim" was engraved across the side of the device. "I was able to get a preliminary scan in before it went up in flames. This was your crazy half-bro Loxxi's tech. He hired these guys for this job and implanted a failsafe in the truck so if he couldn't have them, nobody could."

Thor was shocked at the revelation, "Impossible. Loxxi died at the hands of Ghanoseid at the start of his invasion. I watched it myself," he asserted with grief.

Victor took a deep breath in preparation with giving Thunderman a harsh reality check, "Thor, we're talking about the most conniving, crafty individual in the universe. You said he died trying to stab Ghanoseid with a normal knife, and then stoneface snapped his neck. And then you never found the body after it was all over. I'm sorry, but none of the League believed he was going to stay dead. This was like the sixth time he's done this."

Thor was obviously offput by this knowledge, but digressed for the sake of progression, "I…see. What of his corporation? Has there been any suspicious activity since my brother's disappearance?"

"Not really, before he "died", Loxxi Luthorson put Jotunheim in the hands of his assistant, Lorelei Graves. Stock's gone up 35% since his passing. Humanitarian efforts, worker's rights, really good PR all around. I'd still look into it, maybe they're shipping supplies to Loxxi while he's laying low." Victor advised as he displayed a photograph of Lorelei, then a few figures and articles about the company. "Looks like we definitely need you if we're gonna stop the one man who insists on wearing a green tux from conquering the world."

"Loxxi is not pure evil, Stark. There is hope for him. I will find him, and I will reform him. That is a promise." Thor announced before turning around to leave via teleporter. "I shall be going to search for my brother. If I am needed, call for me."

"Yeah, okay Thor. See you." Victor said, too tired to be bothered. He tapped a few buttons on his arm and beamed Thunderman back to Earth. "I'm going to the kitchen and getting coffee." He added before wandering off to another room on the Watchtower.

This left Sarge and Diana alone at the roundtable. Both were looking at the seat the Fatal Compass used to sit. Their original conversation, the topic irrelevant, had ceased for about 20 seconds. Esteban broke the silence with a confession, "I had the dream again last night, Diana."

Diana looked back at the Sergeant with understanding, "The one about him?"

The Sergeant nodded, "Si, history repeats itself," he answered with a heavy sigh. "The final showdown the MSA had with the Hydras of Injustice. We were getting our asses kicked. Johann Thawne was much faster than I ever could be. Who's there to save us, but Erik? His magic sent the two of us into the Speed Force, where I could finally defeat that monster, at the cost of sending me 70 years into the future. The last thing he tells me is "Your fate does not lie here, your duty lies beyond," and when I finally got out, he's the first thing I see.

Sarge paused after finishing his first thought, "He never told me what he meant all those years later. But he did tell me that the Helm of Fate wouldn't let him see beyond his own death. Then he sacrifices himself to save the universe, again when I couldn't do anything. So, I'll never know why he sent me here. He saves me twice, and I can never repay the favor, nor do I know why. Dios Mio, I hate magic," the Sergeant lamented, "Do you ever feel like you're not in control of your own life?" he asked to Diana grimly.

Diana remembered that day. She had fought alongside Sarge and the Marvelous Society of America for years. Esteban Garrick was her best friend in those days, even during the time she spent under the guise of the MSA's secretary, because it was the 1940s and misogyny was the hip thing at the time. There was never anything romantic between the two, but one could call them "platonic soulmates".

The day the Fatal Compass sacrificed the Sergeant to the Speed Force was one of the saddest days of her life. She never understood Fate's actions that day, Erik Nelson was but a child when he put the Helm on, and the Helm simply knew better, according to him. But regardless of whether the Fatal Compass made the right decision, the Sergeant was gone after that day, along with some of the other members of the MSA who died in the final battle.

Diana had to live with that loss for over 70 years. That should have been nothing. She was over 5000 years old, and she spent about 99.6% of that life on a secluded on Themyscrattilan. After the team disbanded in the 1950s, she went home. She had only returned after hearing about the resurgence of Inhuman Amazons appearing across the world, and Diana left to guide and mentor them with their new powers. Around that time, she got her friend back as she remembered him, if not a little time-displaced. Everything changed around them, but they didn't. Navigating the New World was something they did together, bringing them even closer. She couldn't bear to lose him again, especially not after just losing Erik.

"All the time. But we pull ourselves together and hold onto the things we can control. It's part of the job." Diana answered resting her hand on his shoulder. "Have you kept seeing Doctor Samson?"

"Yeah, I have. I get why Banner keeps going to him. He's been helpful, but he's got me on some new medication. High dosage: I burn through it faster than most." Esteban answered before taking another pause. "That's my other problem. I've gotten slower since I've started taking it. Thank God for Thor because I would not have been able to save Victor myself. I felt like a deer in headlights. I can't do my duty with what feels like a weight on my heart."

Diana took a moment to think about what to say, "Well Esteban, you'll have to make the choice between prioritizing your mental health, or your duties as a hero. I care about you, and I advise the former. I can't lose you too. You're the last one of the MSA that's still alive and talks to me. All the other immortal ones aren't nearly as fun," she joked while taking his hand, "Conversely, I know you well enough that you're gonna keep fighting no matter what holds you back. You're the man who never quits even if you should. So be careful, and I always have your back. We'll figure this out together."

Esteban gave Diana a smile, "Gracias, mi hermana. I don't know what I'd do in the New World without you. Now enough about me, talk to me about your infatuation with the Blind Bat," Sarge broke the tension, trying to extract some gossip from his best friend's love life.

Before Diana could respond, Victor charged back in with a cup of coffee in his hand, and a holographic display coming off his eye, "Enough chit-chat Old-Timers. No offense Diana, you've aged beautifully. But Batroc the Trickster just pulled a heist in Tijuana, and Karnak the Angler is holding the president of Greece hostage with a protractor. You guys know where to go." Stark ordered as he opened up his arm panel to send the two heroes off.

"Duty calls, wanna grab dinner tonight?" Esteban asked as he nonchalantly stepped from the table onto the teleporter.

"You're buying. Beam us down, Starky!" Diana called out as she followed suit.

The two disappeared from the Watchtower to complete their heroic duties, just another day for the League of Marvelous Individuals.

Chapter 3: Burden's of Fate

This universe was born quite recently. The actions of Doctor Fate and Magneto altered history in nearly unfathomable ways. Where two stories ended, another began. In this chapter of our journey, we look at the true consequences of a hero's death.

After the creation of the Amalgam, an entire history was written into the minds of the newly created inhabitants. Families, teams, and interpersonal relationships were torn apart, reshuffled around, and unnaturally pasted back together. But for the inhabitants, everything was normal. Rather than grappling with abstract concepts of reality and identity, the champions of the Amalgam Universe had to deal with the loss of a dear friend who preserved order and justice in this world for decades.

Without him, the Fatal Compass, the heroes left behind would have to face the chaos of the world without him. Picking up the pieces after a heavy loss is a trial many must deal with at some point. And thus, we will see the burdens of Fate and learn what exactly the Fatal Compass left behind. I am the Phantom Watcher, the once Spirit of Justice, and an observer the same as you, who must not interfere with the newly unfolding universe. I will be your guide in understanding the narrative labyrinth that is the Amalgam and its champions.

The following evening since our last delve into this universe places us at the top of St. Anlee's Chapel. A dark figure perched at the steeple, listening, surveying, zeroing in on the crime that plagues the city of Goth's Kitchen. The red eyes of a bat-eared cowl see nothing, but the Blind Bat watches over all of it. The creature of the night compensates for his lack of sight with all his other senses enhanced tenfold, allowing for something akin to radar. Every car, all the chatter from every citizen, the creak of a settling building, it all painted a beautiful menagerie for the Bat to absorb. With that massive point of view, he knew where danger lurked, and who needed him most.

Earlier that day, the Blind Bat had rescued his compatriot Thunderman from being beaten to death with a crowbar. His second ward, Jason Castle, known then as Pupil, had underwent a similar fate at the hands of his enemy, the Killing Joke. So saving his friend was somewhat vindicating to the Bat. The crowbar itself resided in the "Batacombs," saving it for analysis.

The Blind Bat refers to himself as a "part-timer" for the League of Marvelous Individuals. He would participate in world ending events, but often, the Bat would just say he was "busy". This was actually quite true, as Goth's Kitchen was an urban wasteland that required constant upkeep and maintenance. Where the others of this world expressed a desire to save the world, the Blind Bat was ironically tunnel visioned. His mission was to his city. Upon hearing the sound of metal tearing from a mile away, the Bat held out his cane, and fired a grappling hook off into the night. With a running start, the Blind Bat leapt off the chapel and swung into action, as his mission tonight began.

A not so brief history on the Blind Bat's crusade: Goth's Kitchen was home to multiple different factions and crime families. Rife with corruption in the police and local government, it was a perfect home for the superstitious and cowardly lot of criminals to reside. It used to be under the control of his true archnemesis; Wilson Bane, the Kingpain. Bane once held an entire crime empire under his massive thumb. He controlled nearly residentiary area and held a stranglehold on most businesses. Bane was a venom on Goth's Kitchen, he clashed with Blind Bat criminally and physically. For eight years, the Bat would battle to banish Bane behind bars. And just seven months ago, right before the League of Marvelous Individual's clash against Ghanoseid, he had succeeded. After exposing Bane's extensive criminal activity to the public, he was remanded to the Asylum as well for his psychopathic tendencies. It also hadn't hurt that the Blind Bat had beat Wilson half to death that same night. That was a very good day for the Blind Bat.

Since Bane's fall, Goth's Kitchen has been quieter. Crime was at an all-time low with the watchful ear of the Blind Bat uninhibited. Bane divided the area up amongst his lieutenants, but they lacked the gravitas to do anything overtly sinister. His accountant Leland Cobblepot, the Kiwi, opened a nightclub and went legitimate. His attorney and assistant, E. Wesley Nygma went underground to operate his territory from the shadows. Bane's enforcer Lawrence Crane, a chemist who called himself Mr. Scary was the Blind Bat's most recent capture, sending the mad doctor to Ryker's Asylum. Goth's Kitchen was slowly being reclaimed by its good citizenry, and it was all because of the Blind Bat's unwavering dedication to them.

Despite the quiet, the Blind Bat remained vigilant of his city. Even without the main offenders, crime persisted, but on a smaller scale. A mugging here, a drug deal gone wrong there, the occasional C-List masked crook trying to fill the gaps there, but it wasn't anything that the Blind Bat or any of his other local allies couldn't handle. He had been fighting this mission for just about 20 years at this point, and despite everything, he displayed no signs of hanging the mantle up.

Under the cape and cowl, the Blind Bat was Matthew Wayne, a well renown attorney who defend those who could not defend themselves. The irony of being a lawyer and a vigilante was not lost on him, nor the fact he was a lawyer and Catholic. Matt was the head partner of the law firm Wayne and Grayson. Wayne would defend poorer clients pro-bono, garnering considerable goodwill from the people of Goth's Kitchen. Meanwhile his partner, and first "Pupil", Franklin "Foggy" Grayson would take on higher profile cases to bring in the needed funding to build their practice and various philanthropic efforts. His enhanced hearing had also benefitted Wayne's legal practice. He became a human lie detector through listening to his client's heartbeats. Wayne's knack for always knowing the truth made him quite terrifying in the courtroom. Matthew Wayne would use the law defend the people when society failed them, and then the Blind Bat would be there when the law failed them.

Wayne was no billionaire; he had no advanced gadgets aside from the grapple in his baton. All his wealth went to the people of Goth's Kitchen. Unfortunately, it never seemed like enough.

There was a need to balance both sides of himself, an obsession to do everything at once. The Blind Bat had an infallible dedication to justice, and a desire to control every facet of that crusade. Despite having friends in high places with the League of Marvelous Individuals, he asserted that he protected his city without them. It wasn't that Wayne didn't trust the members of the League, he did, at least to a point. Wayne simply had his own people, the "Knights of Goth's Kitchen", he called them which he could better corral and lead than the legion of Gods he somehow stood amongst. In fact, he was patrolling through the city with one of them now.

Swinging through the urban jungle on a grappling hook beside the Blind Bat was a boy around eighteen, clad in red and black tights, yellow belts strapped to his chest adorned with pouches, jet black hair, and most distinctively: a gold visor with a glowing red strip where the eyes would be. This was Wayne's third Pupil, Tim Summers. He had been aiding the Bat Without Fear for around four years at this point, and he was instrumental in the fall of Wilson Bane with his diligent detective work.

"Where are we going, Blind Bat? What's going on?" Summers asked curiously as the duo landed atop a rooftop overlooking the cultural district of Goth's Kitchen.

"History museum. I heard the sound of ripping metal," the Bat explained before flinching, sensing something else coming from the museum. "And the sound of broken glass. The robber is sloppy, but strong. Can't be Selina, she's too careful. Pupil, have there been any new artifacts added to the museum in the past few weeks," the Bat asked further as he aimed his grapple again to fire down to the museum roof.

Pupil simply pulled out his phone and started searching up any news about the museum. The Blind Bat was obviously blind, so despite his radar sense, any device with a screen was essentially useless to him. Tim Summers had no such disability, though his visor made everything appear red to him. "Nope, nothing that valuable. There was that chunk of Vibranium, but that's been sent back to Wakatlantis."

The Blind Bat pondered the nature of this break-in as he fired off his grapple. The hook latched onto the ledge of a wall and the line went taught. "I guess we'll just have to find out," the Bat proposed, fixing the cable to a pole atop the roof they stood on. He then took his baton and glided down the cable like a zipline.

Pupil pulled a collapsible staff from his utility belt and slid down on the cable to land at the front of the museum. Rather than any fancy entrance, the dynamic duo went into the museum through the front door. Strangely, there weren't any alarms going off. Though perhaps that was a blessing since the blaring loud sirens would be enough to overwhelm the Blind Bat's enhanced senses.

The museum was dark, the only light was the glowing red strip coming from the Pupil's visor. It had been like the whole museum had been hit by an electromagnetic pulse. The Blind Bat was quiet, concentrating on the inner workings of the building now that he was inside it. "There's two people here. One heartbeat is fast, erratic, the other is slowed. The intruder's knocked out the security guard. Let's go," The Blind Bat deduced and ordered with urgency, breaking off into a sprint through the halls of the museum with Pupil in tow.

Past the various exhibits throughout the museum, the two heroes arrived in a wing of the building dedicated to the Marvelous Society of America. Paintings and dioramas dramatizing the exploits of their heroism. Wax statues of the heroes of the Golden Age circled the center of the main hall. Each statue was surrounded by memorabilia in glass cases emblematic of each member. And at the center of the room, a life size bronze statue atop a marble pedestal of the Fatal Compass.

After the death of Erik Nelson, the world mourned him as the greatest hero the world would ever know. The museum, curated by one Logan Hall, had the statue built in the sorcerer's honor. The statue was mainly monochromatic, the body and costume were a pristine metallic brass. But distinctly, the helmet of the statue was a much better quality. The helmet was ruby red with a gold trim. The open faceplate was shaped like the Egyptian ankh of Fate. It sparkled from the skylight. Compared to the immaculately designed helmet, the rest of the statue looked cheap. Perhaps the helmet sitting atop this statue was the real thing. No, that would be hopelessly reckless. An artifact of such mystical power wouldn't be so recklessly placed in a normal museum.

Then one realizes that this museum was owned and operated by Logan Hall, the immortal once member of the MSA, Wolfhawk. The member in question was the epitome of reckless action, and he was known for many sentimental, but poorly thought-out gestures. There was a non-zero possibility that the helmet on that statue was the real thing, and any thief worth their salt could easily steal and gain godlike power.

Said thief worth their salt was the current threat the Blind Bat and Pupil were facing. The burglar was a woman draped in a dark green cloak with a white mask covering the top half of her face. At first, they were knelt at the base of the statue in silent contemplation. As she heard the two arrive, she drew a katana from their cloak and turned to face them. "Blind Bat. I was wondering when I would have to face you," she greeted in a distinct Japanese accent. Her voice was wrapped in a cold self-assurance.

The Blind Bat readied a pair of batons from his belt, "You're not getting out of here with that helmet. We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. It's in your hands." He propositioned in a calm, but firm voice. He'd prefer they not fight, but that rarely happens. There's always a fight for the Blind Bat.

The cloaked figure took an offensive stance with their weapon and beckoned the two to advance with their free hand. "I am only taking back what was wrongfully placed here, but if it is an honorable duel you desire, I shall indulge," she replied with almost a boredom. The mysterious figure seemed disinterested with this battle and was only doing so out of necessity to get the Bat off her back.

Pupil was cautious, he knew better than to charge in recklessly, "What's the plan, do we just stay where we are, Mexican Standoff style?" he asked the Bat unsure of what to do.

"You, no. There's a security guard somewhere in the wing. Heartbeat is slow, he's unconscious. He might need medical attention. Find and assist him. I'll handle her." The Bat ordered coolly.

"Fine, but the next fight's mine." Pupil urged before taking out his grappling hook and firing it off to search the upper floor of the wing. Perhaps a small level of annoyance came with being repeatedly sidelined in combat, but Summers knew his role and would fulfill it for the sake of the people.

Before the Blind Bat could say anything else to diffuse the situation, the cloaked woman charged in with her blade and sliced at the caped crusader. The Bat would parry with one baton and lunged the other towards her midsection. She would jump back and swing her blade to force distance between them. The two combatants would dance around the room, clashing weapons, and narrowly avoid potentially fatal strikes.

The Blind Bat fought back with a combination of his batons and his agility. He had the fury of a boxer with the finesse of an acrobat. His senses gave the Bat perfect awareness of where her sword was coming from and where to. Like a nimble devil, the Blind Bat dodged and weaved through the swordswoman's attacks. Amidst it all, he would retaliate with quick jabs with his fists, followed by whacks of his batons. Where that would otherwise fail, the museum exhibits and statues provided adequate cover. If need be, Wayne could pay for any damages. So any destruction wasn't a major concern for the Blind Bat.

By contrast, the woman was still skilled with her weapon, but lacked the polish of the Bat's technique. Her strikes barely grazed the Bat as he practically flew around her. But where she lacked in precision, she made up for in raw power. Despite a petite frame, the woman swung with great might. This was not a result of mere adrenaline or rage; this ferocity came from the weapon. It was almost as if the blade was guided by an outside force. But that surprising power was no match for the Blind Bat's skill. With a few quick blows to the arms, the Bat disarmed her and sent the sword flying into the wall, planting itself right between the statues of the Midnight Angel and the Spirit of 60 Minutes.

The Bat held a baton to the woman's face, "I don't want any more trouble out of you. Why are you even here?"

The woman didn't seem all that dismayed by losing the duel, "You are a worthy opponent." were the first words to exit her mouth, "This was an educating experience, but I'm taking the helmet, for it is my burden to bear." She continued with a determined expression. The woman called out her hand, and with a quiet "shing", the sword was plucked from the wall and flew back to her hand. She then smacked the flat of the blade across the side of the Blind Bat's face.

Blind Bat fell to the wayside as he rubbed the side of his face. The strike stung, but he was still taking in the surprise of what just happened. He then started to hear the grating noise that was tearing metal. It was coming from the statue. The woman sheathed her weapon and held out both of her hands. The brass of the statue was ripping apart like it was wet clay. This woman had the power of magnesis. The Blind Bat had only known this power from one other, the Fatal Compass.

The woman tore the statue limb from limb. The chunks of brass orbited around her like planets to the Sun, until the head of the statue became her Mercury. With a flick of her wrist, what used to be the arms of the statue flew towards the Blind Bat. The arms reshaped into shackles and pinned him to the ground. The Bat struggled against them, but to no avail. The woman stared at the head with a somber look on her face. Beyond the helmet lay an opening, presenting a visage of Erik Nelson's face. "He was a good man, was he not?" she had asked with a slight crack in her voice.

"I knew him personally; we had our disagreements, but I respected him deeply. Why do you want the helmet anyway? Who are you?" The Bat asked, still trying to break his way out from the steel restraints.

"My name is Lorna Toru, wielder of the Polar Blade, and I am here because I want to give my father a proper burial." the woman proclaimed. At this point, her voice was full of sorrow. "This helmet is all that's left of him. I'm taking it back to Kyoto, so he can finally be at rest."

The Blind Bat was baffled by the revelation. The Fatal Compass had two children to his knowledge. One of them was even on the League. But the fact that Erik Nelson was able to hide something so important as a secret child from his trusted allies for multiple decades was mind boggling. "The Fatal Compass received a hero's memorial. If you wish to see him, his ashes are held in the Valhalla Cemetery in Fawcett," he explained, trying to deescalate the situation while still trying to wrap his head around the secret kid thing.

Lorna scoffed at the Bat's response, "A hero's burial. Your creed's arrogance sickens me," she said through a scowl, "My father never wanted to be seen as some superhero. To lie among them would be an insult to his legacy. The other self-proclaimed heroes of this world are the writers of their own ballads. You disappear for months on end to battle a monster across the stars, while the sins of men decay this world from the inside. Had my father not been dragged along with the rest of you to liberate some planet lightyears away, he could have been there to protect my mother!"

The Blind Bat was put aback, but he kept his composure. He focused on Lorna, listening in on her inner workings. He knew she wasn't lying, every word she spoke came straight from a steady beating heart. "I believe you, and I'm sorry for your loss. I know how that pain feels." He answered with sympathy, "But Haloa needed us. Interplanetary wars could have started had we not intervened. I don't know why he never told us about you, but we can make things right. You have other family you have the right to meet." The Bat truly wanted to help her. Everything he did was to avenge his parents, that loss molded him into who he was today. He wanted to guide Lorna through her grief the way he wished someone did for him.

"He never told you about us because he didn't trust you," Lorna answered as she forced the restrained Bat off the wall and drifted him towards her. "My father wanted an escape from the fantasy world he was forced into. He wanted just one part of his life not tainted by it." She continued as he rotated the Bat upside down, humorously hanging like a bat.

"Even after my mother was killed by the yakuza, he didn't want to bring me around. That was because he knew that if you saw what I could do, you'd snatch me up and put me on the team like the Human Lantern and the Sergeant once did to him." Lorna further elaborated, "So he taught me to use my powers and had an acquaintance of his train me with the blade to defend myself. All he wanted was a peaceful life for us. Then the world took him away from me."

She then raised her arm and lifted the restrained Blind Bat into the air. The Bat groaned as the metal tube he was trapped in grew tighter. Lorna began rotating the steel restraints to give a panoramic view of all the statues of the members of the Marvelous Society of America. This wasn't exactly necessary, as the Bat's radar allowed perception of the whole room anyway. But it seemed the wielder of the Polar Blade had a penchant for pageantry. As she rose the Bat into the air, Lorna started to tear apart the statue of her father. The way they turned the man into a martyr disgusted her. With a flick of the wrist, the brass statue was torn apart like pieces of wet cardboard. The chunks of metal bent, twisted, and contorted into abstract shapes; a visualization of a racing mind fueled by a flurry of rage and grief. Lorna knew nothing she did would bring her father back, but she felt the need to send a message.

"The neglect had not even started with you marvelous League. The society had started this fanaticism with false gods. My father was a child when they found him. He was a prisoner of the camps whose prayers were, for once, answered by God. This helmet descended to him from the Divine, and it him with powers that helped him free those who suffered alongside him. He didn't know how much of a curse that power would be later in life. He was a scared, angry little boy who faced the worst tortures no person should ever suffer. All the society saw was a weapon they could use against Hydra." Lorna spat out with great contempt for everything that created her father.

"Every time I heard you all talk about him on the news after a mission, or read recounts of him in the history books, he was a "troubled loner" with an anger streak. He was someone you all subtly feared for his power. None of you knew the man under the helmet, not like you wanted to. My father was nothing but a weapon for you heroes."

"Fate was a friend, Lorna." Blind Bat asserted. "He grew more distant with time, he never told us about his secret family, but he was more than just a weapon. Fate had his principles, his dedication to Justice was what I most respected about it."

"Fate, fate, how reductive. His name was Erik!" Lorna shouted. As she spoke, she manipulated the head of the sculpture to move down to her eye level. She held the brass effigy of her father's face, with the helmet still on it. Oddly, the helmet itself wasn't magnetic. The faceplate of the helmet would mystically open and close depending on if it was in use. As she looked upon it, she sniffled. "I hardly got to see his face the last few months." The head within the helmet then imploded in on itself, a product of her anger. It fell to the side like a crumpled-up piece of paper.

Lorna scoffed, "His obsession to preserving "order and justice" was the helmet commanding him. As he got older, it grew stronger." Lorna explained, her voice starting to break again. "The man who raised me slowly eroded away, and by the time the League united. He was nearly overtaken by this helmet. Every time you all needed some magic to clean up one of your messes, a small piece of my father was gone. I had to watch my father lose himself, so he could "save the world". He died because you were all too weak to save the world yourselves!" Lorna exclaimed as she clenched her hand. The metal restraining the Bat grew tighter, causing him to groan in pain.

"I don't know how much I truly knew of my father, but nobody deserves to have their life consumed by the spirits within this helmet. That's why this helmet is going in the ground, where no man will be burdened by it ever again." Lorna proclaimed with gusto.

The Blind Bat was quiet, he pondered her words. This was a girl mourning the death of a father who knew her less and she knew him more. The mission had quite literally consumed the Fatal Compass, and it made him question how much it was consuming him. Goth's Kitchen was on the rise now, but how long would that peace last? How long could he keep protecting his city? And in turn, it made the Bat question how much good the League of Marvelous Individuals truly did for the world. Were they, and the other superheroes of this world, worthy of being its protectors?

Before the Bat could give a response, Pupil had returned from the south end of the museum. He had a geriatric security guard slumped over his shoulder, asleep. Lorna hadn't even gotten to him; the old man was just sleeping on the job. "Bats, I got the guy, how're you holding…up?" the boy asked looking up at his mentor suspended by what appeared to be a large brass candy wrapper.

Lorna and Pupil looked at each other for a few moments, "It's my turn to fight, and she's got powers. This means I don't have to hold back!" Pupil said giddily.

"Hold back what?" Lorna asked, getting into a defensive stance, not sure what to expect from fighting this teenager.

"This!" Pupil responded as he put his fingers to the side of his visor, and with the press of a button, the red strip of the visor opened. And out from the yellow eyepiece, was a red stream of pure concussive force coming from the eyes of Tim Summers. Summers was what this universe called a "Metamutant", the evolution of humanity with a gene which unlocked special abilities from person to person with it. Pupil's metamutant power was the ability to expel concussive force from his eyes. The exact mechanics of this ability are unclear, but the visor on young Tim Summer's face's purpose is to keep all that energy contained until needed.

Lorna reacted on instinct, the shards of metal surrounding her flew to her front, shielding her from the initial assault. The blast punched through the metal and knocked Lorna to the floor. This break in concentration caused her to drop the Blind Bat, leaving the man wrapped in metal clattering on the floor like a quarter. The impact alone knocked the Blind Bat unconscious. "Stay out of this, boy. I do not wish to harm a child, but I can, and I will if that is what is required," she warned grimly.

"Sorry miss, but I can't let you go. That helmet shouldn't have been here to begin with, and we can't let it fall into the wrong hands," Pupil replied with a boy scout like level of righteousness. The boy set aside the sleeping guard, propping him up against the wall. Pupil then withdrew his staff and charged at the wielder of the Polar Blade.

Lorna was growing quite impatient with the dynamic duo as she staggered back to her feet. As the Summers boy grew closer, she felt the magnetic field of his visor. For all she knew, the power of optic blasts came from the visor itself. So, removing it made the most sense. She held out her hand and flicked towards her to yank the golden visor off the Pupil's face. This had unintended consequences.

Without the visor, there was nothing holding back the full force of Pupil's optic blast. Like a garden hose on shower instead of flat, a burst of unfiltered concussive force blasted Lorna back. She was sent flying like a ragdoll into the wax statue shrouded in shadow. Whoever the likeness of whom she destroyed was is unimportant, at least for now.

After that sudden burst of force, Tim shut his eyes, and he managed to put his visor back on. He looked over at Lorna covered in white and green wax, hopefully the statue broke her fall. Afterward he surveyed the area, he found the Helm of Iscariot and put it under his arm, "I gotta get a better strap for this thing," he mused to himself as he tapped the side of his visor.

Pupil then ran over to the downed Blind Bat; he looked up and down the twisted strip of brass holding his mentor. Pupil then took a deep breath as he pondered his next move, "Alright Tim, you've got to be surgical with this. Just enough power to cut this apart." He focused in on a single part of the brass, around the Bat's armored chest, and slowly turned the dial on the side of his visor. Then, a very thin optic blast came from the center of the visor. With a careful cutting motion, Pupil cut apart the stretched brass.

After Pupil was able to free the Blind Bat from the remains of the Fatal Compass' statue, he heaved up the Bat and leaned him against the marble podium of the statue. The Bat's faithful sidekick then proceeded to pull off his glove, and slapped him across the face with it, repeatedly.

This went on about five times before the Bat came to and grabbed the glove mid-slap. He glared at Pupil, the red eyes of the cowl narrowing to slits. The scowl turned to a smirk as he held the back of his head, the pain still reeling from the fall, "Thanks for the wake-up, my good chum." He said placing a hand on Pupil's shoulder and getting back to his feet.

"Just glad you're alright Blind Bat. What do we do with the katana lady over th-okay what the hell?" Pupil asked before looking over at the remains of the insignificant wax statue, only to see that Lorna was gone.

Blind Bat sighed, "We still have the helmet, the nightguard's not hurt, although he's probably going to get a serious reprimand for sleeping on the job. And anything broken can be replaced. Let's just get out of here. I'll make sure the helmet is taken back to Fa…Erik's old tower tomorrow. I'll take care of her later."

Pupil looked somewhat confused, "There something I should know about all this? You don't usually just let the perp run off like this."

"She's not just a perp, Tim. I'll explain the rest later, call Alfred and ask him to leave some tea in the Batacombs. You can take point for the night. I'll trust you'll keep things in order tonight," the Blind Bat answered, being uncharacteristically lax. This single encounter had mentally wiped him out.

"Ending your patrol early, leaving me alone? How hard did you hit your head, Bats?" Tim asked almost concerned as they walked out of the museum.

"I'm fine, things have just been put into perspective," The Blind Bat said taking the helm for himself to bring back to the Batacombs. He ran his fingers over the detailed molding, there was a lot that he had to do. If he were to truly do justice for the Fatal Compass, the Blind Bat would have to take on…

The Burdens of Fate

Chapter 4: Magic and Monsters

This world was born quite recently. The actions of Doctor Fate and Magneto altered history in nearly unfathomable ways. Where two stories ended, another began. The universes of the World's Finest and Earth's Mightiest collided creating heroes of great renown, and villains of horrific infamy. But the nature of this combined universe built its new denizens off past connections. While the circumstances which created the heroes we meet appears random, they were born from the chains forged in their past lives.

The beauty of this new world is that we see how those of different universes with preestablished connections created new bonds. I am the Phantom Watcher, the once Spirit of Justice, and an observer the same as you, who must not interfere with the newly unfolding universe. I will be your guide in understanding the narrative labyrinth that is the Amalgam, its champions, and its demons.

We peer into the LMI Watchtower the following day after our last foray with the Blind Bat. Today, four sit around the meeting table to discuss what to do with the reclaimed Helm of Iscariot. In attendance were the usual suspects: Blind Bat, Wonder Crystal, and Cyberman waited at one side of the table, all in costume. The Helm of Iscariot sat in front of the Bat. All three seemed visibly annoyed at the man who sat on the other side of the table.

The fourth in question was a stocky man of Egyptian descent. His face was grizzled, unkempt black sideburns peppered the sides while his hair seemed to point up like the ears of a wild animal. He was wider than he was tall, but that was all muscle. His frame hid beneath a large black trench coat, but that was not all that hid beneath. This was the aforementioned Logan Hall, the Wolfhawk.

He was a founding member of the Marvelous Society of America, serving the United States alongside the Sergeant before Erik and even Diana were recruited. Despite that, he didn't look much older than fifty. He was one of the oldest living metamutants, gifted with a ceaseless healing factor and a broad pair of wings currently hidden beneath his coat. Dating back to Ancient Egypt, he was also once the great prince, Khufu the Howler.

Logan was also one of the few heroes to have joined, but later left the League of Marvelous Individuals. He had always been a gruff, sometimes aggravating presence, and not much of a team player. Living through many millennia turned him bitter and angry. But the reason Wolfhawk left concerned another member of the team; his ex-wife Kendra Munroe, Stormbird. In his mouth was a half burnt out cigar. He chomped on it impatiently as he awaited the berating he knew was coming.

Cyberman was the first to speak up after what felt like five minutes of uncomfortable silence. "I'm going to put this in the politest way I can provide to someone of your…stature. What the hell is wrong with you?!" the cyborg chastised to Logan, slamming his non-robotic fist on the table.

"Victor, calm down. We can address this issue in a way that's more constructive." Diana interjected, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. She gave him a disapproving glare akin to a mother to a child. She then directed that gaze to Logan, "Now Logan, how can we fix what is wrong with you?" she asked in a calm, yet condescending tone.

Logan looked at Diana and Victor, the tension was thick enough to cut with the claws on his gauntlet. "Ugh, I felt guilty, okay. Fate and I never made up after the situation with Oro-…sorry, Kendra. I wanted to honor him after he died. I utilized a little showmanship, sue me, Princess." He answered with a groan. There was no use lying with the Bat six feet away from him.

The Blind Bat was quiet, his mind was elsewhere with thoughts of Erik's daughter. He wondered whether having her meet Logan would do any good. At least before they fell out, the Fatal Compass and Wolfhawk were close friends throughout the years. Perhaps the perspective from someone who knew her father much better would be helpful. Maybe he even knew about her already. But he had to focus on the task at hand. "The statue was actually quite nice; it's having the real helmet on top of it that's the issue. Someone almost stole it, and they could've become a greater problem."

Logan rolled his eyes, then realized that the Bat couldn't even see the gesture, "Well we all know somebody's gotta take his place. If anyone did steal the helmet, either wearing it overloads them with power and kills them, or the stupid god inside it uses them as a puppet and does what Erik did before. Eventually if we waited long enough, it would turn out okay." He answered callously. Logan had still been grieving the loss of Erik and setting up a successor was his way of doing his legacy justice. "Like it or not, without Fate, the League is half as strong as you used to be. Someone's gotta step up. Back in our day, we had enough on the bench so that losing one guy wasn't a wipe."

"You can't just replace him like that, especially so recklessly." Diana chimed in, "Besides, what about his daughter? He'd been training her to take his place. His next of kin should have a say in his legacy."

"Which one? The agoraphobe with the ring, or the one that turned into a cat after you shagged her?" Logan bit back. He never liked Diana much, even back during the MSA days. It was actually his idea to keep her as their secretary even after knowing exactly who she was. Usually, Sergeant Speed would serve as a mediator between their bickering, but he wasn't here at the moment.

Diana clenched her fists, ready to climb over the table and torch him with the flame slowly generating in the palm of her hand under the table. Blind Bat could feel the rise in temperature radiating within her, and in response, gently held her arm down. Matt always knew what everyone was feeling based on a combination of heartbeats, perspiration, and subtle changes in voice tone that would be unnoticed by the normal ear. Wonder Crystal was the one Matt understood the best. He knew how often her emotions would flare up, and by proxy, how much she held back behind an ever-present smile for the sake of the team, and the people. Because of this, he respected her deeply.

She took a deep breath and quickly calmed down, putting back on her shining diamond smile. "We're not here to talk about what happened to Minerva, let's remain on topic. If I were to stoop to your level, I would show you the lovely photos from Kendra and T'Kurri's wedding. It's a shame you weren't invited. But bringing our romantic lives into such a serious matter would be in poor taste, would it not?" She asked the brute with a cheeky smile. Diana had shared the same animosity towards Logan since the Golden Age. But the core difference between the two of them was that she knew how to tear someone apart in a without needing to raise her fists. She was also a diplomat after all.

Logan scowled at Diana, but he knew a tube floating in space wasn't the best place for a fight. "Fine, point taken. Sorry Crystal, but even if we could find Minerva, neither of the Maximoffs are cut out for the helm. Jessica's been on sabbatical from the League since Erik died; she doesn't have the guts for it. Even some random idiot is a better fit than her."

"I actually have to agree with Buffalo Wild Wings on this one." Victor responded, sounding a little surprised himself at who he ended up siding with, "Emerald Witch is a ticking time bomb, and with the magic ring, she could wipe us out like that. Giving her even more power, especially when she's still grieving her pops, not a smart move."

"I think you're glancing over the fact that she's still a person. A vulnerable one at that who's still dealing with a lot of grief," the Blind Bat interjected, obviously empathetic for the situation. "Am I afraid of what Jessica could do? Yes, of course, I am. But she's just as afraid of that power herself. And without her father to train her power, she needs the support of the League more than ever. I think, at least to keep a closer eye on her, we should bring her back into the fold."

Diana gave a nod of approval to the Bat, briefly considering how that was fruitless to a blind man but then realizing he could have at least perceived the movement of her head, "Seconded, as for the Helm, it goes back to Fate's Tower. It's wise to keep it within the mystical protections."

"Alright so what the hell am I supposed to do about the statue that got ripped apart? That was expensive metalwork! How did it even get destroyed like that, Bat?!" Logan interjected, growing frustrated with how the meeting he was forced to be a part of was so unceremoniously derailed.

"I'm looking into that situation, let me deal with that." The Bat answered sharply. This was a situation that he did not want to bring the rest of the League into just yet.

"As for that statue, you have insurance don't you Logan?" Diana asked feigning a naïve smile to spite him.

Logan rolled up his sleeve to reveal a gauntlet on his arm. He squeezed a mechanism in his hand and popped a claw out from the center of the gauntlet. The brute then raised his hand to use the claw to give Diana the middle finger. "Can I go now? I have other shit to do."

"Not just yet. There's still the subject of the stolen Adth Metal." Victor interjected. "The crowbar that nearly bashed Thunderman's brains in was made of the stuff. That had to have come from your stash, no?"

"Don't know what to tell you, bub." Logan responded with a shrug. Sure, back in his first life, all of the world's Adth metal was in his possession. His weapons were made of the stuff, the bones in his wings were lined with it to allow him to fly under mystical properties, but after years of dying and coming back more pissed, the Wolfhawk abandoned his kingdom and thus his collection of the mystical metal. "It's not like I control every ounce of the stuff. Might've come from my stash, might not have. I'm not the only rich jerk who could've collected it. Figure it out yourselves. Now can I go?"

Victor was exasperated with Logan at this point, "Yeah, whatever. Just go and be your angry little bird wolf man self, eat some worms, howl at the moon, I don't care. You left the team, which means you shouldn't have to be my problem anymore."

Logan snickered to himself as he climbed up over the table to step onto the teleporter, "Send me home, Tin Man." He called out before being warped back down to Earth.

Victor held his forehead, "I am so glad he's gone," he commented exhaustedly. The cyborg had been up all night on monitor duty, handling minor threats. "Alright, next order of business. Who's going to the Tower of Fate to drop off the Helm, and convince Jessica to come back to work?"

"I have business to attend to in Goth's Kitchen, Foggy volunteered us for some benefit that I have to attend. It's bad PR to have the first named partner never appear in public." The Bat answered, he would have been happy to do it, but he still had responsibilities as Matthew Wayne. "Thor is off all over the place, looking for Loxxi after you set him off like a wind-up toy."

"Sarge is bouncing around Europe today; he's been weeding out some remnants of Hydra with SHIELD. And I have a meeting with Director Fury concerning extradition of members of my sisterhood back to Themyscrattilan." Diana added, alongside training emerging Inhuman Amazons, she had been working with SHIELD as the ambassador for her home island and worked to uphold the rights of her kin.

Victor sighed in annoyance, "Okay so with you four out of the question, Black Orca and Stormbird not returning my calls, and me being absolutely terrified of the Witch, that just leaves Banner."

"He's been busy at the university. I'd hate to take him away from his important work," Diana mentioned reluctantly.

"Banner's got as much of a responsibility to us. Besides, if things go wrong with her, he's got the best chance of taking a hit." Victor retorted.

"Maybe we should start expanding our personnel. Nine people can't monitor the entire planet. Even the Society had fifteen." Diana suggested, "I hate to admit it, but Wolfhawk had a point. We need more people to fill in the gaps the Fatal Compass left behind."

"Let's table this issue and discuss another day." The Blind Bat answered. He had complicated feelings for the current League as is, adding more members would only complicate things further. But if he were to get more of his own people on board, it may benefit him long-term. There was much to ruminate on, "Shoot Banner a call and get him down there. I trust him to handle the rest."

Meanwhile, on the secluded island of Genosha, just off the Mediterranean Coast, sat an imposingly tall stone tower. The island radiated an otherworldly aura as it shielded itself from the world in an ethereal fog. This place was pure, it was sacred, and it was once the base of operations for the Fatal Compass: The Tower of Fate.

Without Erik Nelson there to maintain this bastion of order, his second eldest daughter, Jessica Maximoff resided within it. A strange trend among all of Fate's children being none of them take his surname. Supposedly, the man's distance from the non-magical world led all his children to be closer to their mothers. But in the trends of the narratives of the multiverse, mothers, including one Inza Maximoff, never seem to last very long. Who is to blame for this odd trend? Perhaps Walt Disney, but who knows?

In the years before the death of Fate, he had trained Jessica in the ways of magic. While he wanted to spare his youngest daughter from the throes of the superhero world, that courtesy was not spared to his others. Jessica and her twin sister Minerva were both early new additions to the League of Marvelous Individuals. Erik gifted the twins the ring of Cthrona, and the Talisman of Urzcotatiaga. While Minerva underwent other circumstances, including a short-lived romantic relationship with Wonder Crystal, that led to her leaving the team quite quickly, Jessica remained in the League under the pseudonym of the Emerald Witch.

Jessica's role on the team was to be the long-ranged powerhouse. The intention was for her to fill the role left behind by founding LMI member Carol Jordan, the Green Marvel. Her ring allowed her to fly and create constructs powered by her own will. While sometimes this made her a great boon to the League, Ms. Maximoff was typically somewhat of a liability. The enemy of will is fear, and Jessica was one who held much of that.

In Jessica's adolescence, during a period when her father wasn't around, she had undergone a traumatic episode which gave her aggressive agoraphobia, the fear of leaving one's home and venturing out into the world. Erik had hoped giving her the ring and a place on the pantheon would give Jessica the sense of safety she needed to overcome this fear. A lot of hard work and courage allowed her to be a part of the world again. But since the death of her father, that strength faded, and Jessica fell into a depressive state. She has since regressed back into her old habits.

Up near the top of the tower, Jessica sat in an old, dusty armchair. She had her arm raised with her hand in a fist. She stared at the ring on her middle finger and tried to focus. Maybe she'd make something from it today. But she didn't really see the point. She once enjoyed the thrill of being a hero, rising against her fears and turning them into something positive. But with all her immediate family being dead or effectively gone, it was hard for her to care about anything anymore. There wasn't much driving her to keep going.

The ground started to subtly tremor, and that tremor became a rumble, then the rumble a quake. Something large was trudging through the fog surrounding the Tower. Jessica grew worried, the Tower was supposed to be secluded, closed off from the world, just as she felt. She pulled herself out of the chair and ran to a window overlooking the perimeter. A monster had found its way to the Tower of Fate, but perhaps this wasn't a bad thing in this case.

The monster in question stood nine feet tall, 800 pounds of pure muscle, its skin was green and almost glowing with power. On a less threatening note, he wore a purple suit with a large emblem of the Greek letter "Gamma" plastered across the chest paired with a pristine, white cape and hood. His hair was greasy and slicked back, but the monster's expression was a smile displaying naught but warmth and empathy. This monster was more affectionately known as Captain Gamma, but he also goes by "SHAHULK!"

Jessica sighed in relief upon seeing SHAHULK, she considered the beast a friend, at least in comparison to the rest of the team. "Hey Cap! What are you here for?" she shouted down to the green beast.

"Cyberman sent me! Just here to talk and drop a thing off!" he shouted back up, speaking simply, but clearly.

"Just let yourself in!" Jessica called back down before returning to her chair.

Captain Gamma lumbered to the base of the tower, looking for a certain spot. The Tower of Fate had no conventional points of entry to prevent those not of mystical creed from entering. The monster, though, did have such a background.

He was empowered by seven divine champions to be an unstoppable force for good. There was the Wisdom of Solomon, the Swiftness of Hermes, Stamina of Atlas, the Green Fire (colloquially known as Gamma Radiation) of Hades, the Flight of Uranus, the Rage of Lyssa, and what was important for this scenario, the Strength of Kratos.

Captain Gamma spotted the prime spot at the base of the tower, and he threw a massive haymaker of a punch. The huge green fist smashed through the enchanted walls of the tower, revealing a gratuitously long spiral staircase leading up to the top of the tower. The beast entered the tower, the wall magically repairing itself behind him. The captain looked at the rising stairs and groaned, "Ugh, hate the stairs."

Endowed with the Wisdom of Solomon, Captain Gamma knew the fastest way to get to the top. He moved to the center of the tower, and empowered by the titan Uranus, leapt up through the tower, rocketing up past flight after flight of stairs. He burst through room and after room until he reached the top of the tower. There were now around 23 broken floors in the tower, but by the time Captain Gamma found his footing, they were repaired again by the magics of the tower.

Jessica gave a small smile, somewhat amused by the giant's antics. She gave an aloof "Hey," before she motioned her hand to point over to a chair for Gamma to sit down.

Captain Gamma grabbed a dining table chair and laced it down across from the cozy spot Jessica was sitting in. It was far too small for him, making his position comical to witness, but the man in purple kept his composure. "So, how've you been Jess?" he asked looking at Jessica concerned.

In the six months since her father died, Jessica stopped taking care of herself. She never left the Tower, her negative feelings compounding her agoraphobia. Her golden-brown complexion turned pale, sitting in the shadows for so long. Her eyes sunken, lost weight, a noticeable lack of life in her eyes. If one squinted, they would assume she was Elizabeth Olsen. But that would be preposterous, for one of Roma descent wouldn't look like her. "You know, same old, same old. Been reading a lot of Dad's books. I don't understand what half of them say but, staring at the pages makes me feel like I've done something worthwhile," Jessica responded sounding very aloof.

"That's why I'm here actually," Gamma explained, "Stark, Bats, and Crystal want you back." His voice was deep and gravelly, he spoke simply, but succinctly.

Jessica laughed in spite of herself at the answer, "Stark? He's been trying to get rid of me ever since I got this stupid ring," she responded holding out her fist.

"Well, we got five people on call and Blind Bat's part-time, you can't save the world with six people."

"And what, that's our job?" Jessica asked, "Why lay down our lives for a world who fears us, who fears you?"

Captain Gamma paused, there was truth to that. The two that sat in this room were members of the League who were first presented to the world with apprehension. When the green monster known as SHAHULK was unleashed on the world eight years ago, he was feared. An unstoppable force of nature who in his early years, didn't have full control of his power and caused great destruction, albeit unintentionally. It took years to gain the trust of those he protected, but he earned it.

Meanwhile, the few times the Emerald Witch had appeared on the scene, the people were wary of her presence. The power of the ring was chaotic by nature. Its only limit was her imagination, and what Jessica imagined were eldritch abominations representative of her anxieties. Monsters of fear rampaged the field when she arrived, and it was quite effective in repelling major threats. While weaponizing her own negative feelings to fight evil was cathartic, those she saved were terrified of what she could do. Even some of the League held this fear. Though without the fire in her eyes, the witch was fairly docile.

"That responsibility is heavy, but we are strong. You need to be strong. It's hard, but the world needs us," Captain Gamma answered after a brief contemplation.

Jessica sighed and rolled her eyes, "Why me though? There aren't better people for the team? Surely the world deserves better." She pulled the ring off her finger, her eyes turned from a bright green to a dull hazel, "I'm not one of you. Never have been. And I don't want to be."

Captain Gamma took a moment to absorb her answer. He was growing a little frustrated with Jessica. But then he knew a way to better reach her, "Excuse me for a sec." The jade giant stood up from his tiny chair and walked down to the 23rd floor of the tower. Jessica heard him yell "SHAHULK!" in a booming voice, followed by the sound of a booming explosion. Green light flashed from the stairwell, and a young man in a tattered purple hoodie arose from below.

Beneath the exterior of Captain Gamma lied Billy Banner. Despite his age, he was one of the world's more seasoned heroes. He'd been given the powers of SHAHULK when he was twelve, and the experience as Captain Gamma gave him a better understanding of what it meant to be a hero than most. The two beings were once dual personalities, but with time, they bled into each other. Time and experience made them into a single unit bent on making the world a better place. He decided to change back to his mortal form so he could express his next points not as a god to look up to, but a man.

Banner sat down in the chair, fitting much better now. He set a backpack down next to him. Perhaps the magic transformation sent any of Banner's stuff to a pocket dimension, but that is unimportant at the given moment. "Well, now I'm like you. And as a friend, I can't stand to see you wallow like this. The happiest I've seen you is when you're fighting alongside us. You care about the good of humanity just as much as the rest of us. Like it or not, you ARE a hero. So, what is this really about?"

Jessica took a deep breath, "I have big shoes to fill, Billy. I have all this power, but I'm damaged goods," she admitted looking out the window, "I've hid myself away because if I come back, all they'll see is a disappointment."

Banner was taken aback by the last remark, "Disappointment? Do you think that's what you are?"

"Dad wanted me to be his successor. He trained me be strong like you said. To specifically to take his spot on the League. And when that time came, and he was gone, I was weak, and I've stayed here for six months," Jessica lamented, staring at the ring in her hand. "Of course, I feel bad for hiding, but I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" Banner asked.

"That I make things worse." Jessica answered quietly, "That I hurt people who don't deserve it. That if I take my shot at being some big hero, I'll lose control of my emotions and destroy the world." Jessica held the ring up in front of her face, staring at through the hole, "This ring brings out the best, and the worst in me. And I don't want to give the world my worst."

"Then don't," Banner replied rather bluntly.

"What?"

"I've been in possession of some of the most volatile magic for years, and I'll admit I have made a lot bad situations worse. And like you, it was because I couldn't control my emotions, specifically my rage," Banner explained as he held up his arms and clenched his fists. "I lost my mother; I don't want to talk about my father. Those bad feelings I had were enhanced by Hulking out, and that made me dangerous to everybody."

"Okay, so what's your point?" Jessica asked, skeptical of wherever Banner was going.

"The only reason I gained the trust of the people was because I had the League backing me. I had people who cared about me, and they brought the best out of me. I'm stronger than I ever could have been if I worked alone." Banner answered with a proud smile across his face.

Jessica mulled over his points, "It's a higher standard now, I don't want to hold the team back."

"You're scared to fall short of the rest of us, we'll prop you up." Banner continued, standing up out of his chair and walking over to Jessica. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Hiding here, wallowing in your own self-pity is not going to do yourself any good. If you want to grow past your father's death, you're best grieving with the rest of us. We'll help you through it."

Jessica sniffled, wiping a tear from her face. "I miss him, Billy."

"Me too, Jess. But he would want you to live a life you're proud of. And he'd want us to look out for you." Billy said turning around and grabbing his backpack. He unzipped the bag and retrieved the Helm of Iscariot from within. "We're not asking you to replace him, just show the world that we're right to have faith in you. That I'm right to have faith in you."

Jessica stared at my helm in Billy's hands, or more accurately, she stared at its hollowness, the lack of a face in the helmet. "I…gave this to Logan because I couldn't bring myself to look at it." She said with a shudder in her voice. "But, maybe keeping it here will remind me that I need to keep living."

"Does that mean you're coming back?" Billy asked hopefully, setting my helm on a side table next to Jessica's chair.

Jessica looked down at the ring in her hand. She stood up from her chair and put it back on her finger. Her eyes shined once again with an elegant emerald green. "Give me a few days to charge my ring back up. I don't know where I left the lantern, and I'll need to work up a lot to recharge. But yeah, I'll be back." She answered giving a small smile. There was a long road left ahead for her to fully come to terms with her grief and her fear, but she was taking the first step.

Billy smiled and rushed in to hug the Emerald Witch. Caught a little off guard, Jessica froze briefly, but hugged the boy back. This was also probably some of the first human affection shown to her in a while. "Prove me right, Jess. We're counting on you."

Jessica took a deep breath, taking in a new weight on her shoulders, "I'll try."

Billy sighed and pulled away, "Best I can ask for. I hope to see you soon." The boy stepped back and threw his backpack on.

He turned towards the window. There wasn't any glass, just a large gaping hole in the stone tower. Banner took a sprinter's position. Jessica pieced together what he was about to do, unsure whether to stop him or not. But before she could act, he ran towards the window and jumped out of it. The boy plummeted towards the ground, but halfway down, he yelled the magic word "SHAHULK!" And with a loud boom and a flash of green light, Captain Gamma arose. He turned to face Jessica and gave her a wave. Jessica snickered and waved back. The captain then turned around and rocketed through the air, soaring back from whence he came. Whence he came was in fact, Ohio.

Jessica sighed and looked around the tower. She had let it fall into disarray after months of apathy. She then looked down at her ring, "Well, looks like I have some work to do."

Chapter 5: When Gods Clash

Across the world, Thunderman soared over the ocean as he reached the beautiful Smolberg, Norway. He breathed in the salty sea air as he dragged a fishing boat by a chain back to shore. The rain was hard today, and the noble fishermen were caught in a nasty storm. Thor was already on his way to this location and was luckily able to save the men on route.

Thunderman pulled the boat onto the stony beach with care as to not damage the hull against the rocks. The three fishermen aboard rushed off the boat and crowded around Thor. They showered the god with praise and reverence to their savior.

"Now now, no need for praise, return to your families. They're waiting for you," Thor tried to calm the worshippers down. The fishermen did not relent, as they now started to kiss the ground he stood on. "Okay maybe just a little bit more," Thor then relented himself. Despite being raised with humility, his godly nature was still apt to accept tribute such as this for his deed. After about another minute, he shooed them away, "Okay, that's enough."

Once the worship ceased, and the fishermen dispersed back into the village, Thor took out his hammer and slammed the handle against the ground. With a loud thunder crack and a strike of lightning, Thunderman was gone. All that remained now was an older gentleman in a dark blue suit and tie, paired with a smart pair of glasses.

This is the mortal form of Thor-El, Donald Kent. His hammer now transformed into a walking stick. Donald looked to the skies as it was still raining hard. He felt the drops cascade against his face for moment or so. Afterward, he strolled up the beach to enter the town which he called his home.

This quaint little village off the coast was a second home to him. Decades ago, when he and his half-brother Loxxi were banished from Asgard, Thor was sent here, his flesh made mortal and his life reset to infancy. To teach his son humility, Od-El had further cursed his son with a lame leg. He would need to walk with a cane for the rest of his life. Thor-El's mortal form was adopted by humble farmers Blake and Gaia Kent. They would raise him as Donald, teaching the blank slate of a boy the traditional values of truth, justice, and a better tomorrow. It was they who molded the once brash and war hungry God of Steel into the kind, humble, and benevolent God of Tomorrow.

By having Thor live a completely different life of a weaker man, Od-El intended to teach his son to respect the realms which Asgard protected. Perspective would give Thor a new outlook on humanity, and eventually he was once again worthy to wield the hammer Krypton. Though by the time he did, Asgard was destroyed. So, Earth had become Thor's permanent home. Even after regaining the memories of his old life, Thor-El still saw the Kents as his true parents. They were long gone, now. The Kents passed away peacefully in their eighties a few years ago. He loved them dearly, but the most important lesson the Kents had taught him were the beauty and fragility of life, and how to cope with death.

Donald Kent gingerly traversed through the streets of Smolberg. The downpour didn't seem to bother him, even in this state. He waved and smiled to the people on the sidewalk as he soldiered on through the weather. Despite his bum leg, Kent was a strong man, years on a farm would build as such. His wide frame would cast a mighty shadow had there been sun. Perhaps he so eagerly returned his human form out of nostalgia. Perhaps he felt a need for vulnerability to continuously feel closer to those he saved. Or maybe, Thor just liked the outfits he got to wear as Donald Kent. The true answer is inconclusive.

It was a small village, and after around 20 minutes of walking through the rain, he arrived at the edge of town. In view was another stony beach. Massive boulders were scattered across the shore, not having any real rhyme or pattern to them. Forced up against a large cliff were a series of large stone spikes, protruding off in all directions. At their center lie a majestic, golden door. This was the Cavern of Solitude. This was once an old childhood cave Donald played in, but now transformed into his private base of operations.

Donald stepped up to the door and reached down to a key hidden under a rock. With a slight strain, he tried to pick up the key, but failed. He then remembered the key was made of dwarf-star compressed metal. It was the best security system he could think of. It was so heavy; he'd need to transform back into Thor just to pick it up. He laughed in spite of himself for forgetting something so important.

Donald raised his cane and struck it against a nearby boulder. And with another thunder crack, and lightning strike, Thunderman returned. Afterward, he picked up his key, unlocked the door, and dropped it back to the ground, leaving a loud thud. He then covered the key back with a rock, and Thor entered his cavern.

Inside the cavern, a beautiful menagerie of gems and crystals lined the walls. Alcoves full of previous armors Thor had previously worn were stacked against the back of cave. This was another place where Thor felt at peace with himself.

He came back here to collect his thoughts after a long two days of searching for any remains of Loxxi. Thor had visited Jotunheim, hoping to learn whereabouts from Lorelei Graves, but to no avail. He searched every known warehouse and shell corporation Loxxi's company once held a grip over.

While Thor was raised in a quaint Norwegian village for his second chance at life, Loxxi was given to the descendant of his birth mother, Laura Fey Luthorson. Od-El got around on Earth in his prime. The Luthorson bloodline just so happened to become one of the wealthiest families on Earth. This was a bit of an oversight in efforts to teach his sons humility, but by the time Od-El realized this, Asgard blew up.

Thor had even tried using the internet to search for possible leads on Loxxi. Unfortunately, all Thor found was a combination of teenage girls fawning over his brother's looks and roguish charm and faux intellectuals parading the thought dead billionaire as a fallen savior. Those, and a series of unsavory art had convinced Thunderman to never use the internet for research ever again. This provided a new perspective on what Victor must go through every day. But at that point, Thor had all but gave up hope on finding his brother.

Shaking off the twisted memories of the digital horrors he had witnessed, Thor stepped through his trophy room. Upon pedestals were memorabilia of many of his greatest battles. There was the axe of Lobo the Executioner, the Casket of Eternal Night once wielded by Eclipso the Accursed, and the massive horned helm of Brainiactus. Among others, the most important artifact was the Silent Zone Projector. This was a machine he used to banish his most dangerous enemies so that they could not escape into the mortal world. The one thing out of place was on the pedestal that once housed the tiara of Maxima the Enchantress. In its place was what appeared to be a snake.

Thor stared at the snake confused for a moment. "Well, hello there limbless one," Thor greeted the snake politely. He looked around to see if the tiara had fallen off and was lying around somewhere. Upon failing to find it, Thor went to pick up the snake. He had quite liked snakes after all.

As Thor lifted the snake up from the pedestal, it flashed a green light. The visage of a small serpent twisted and transformed into that of Loxxi Luthorson. Loxxi let out a yelp, shouting "MBLERGH! It's me," and proceeded to stab Thor in the side with a small dagger. The man then backflipped away from his brother's hold and landed a few feet away from him.

Loxxi stood a few inches shorter than his brother, but he lacked the impressive physique. He was scrawny, barely filling out the expensive emerald green suit he wore. But where he lacked in brawn, Loxxi had cunning and an aptitude for magic. He was also bald, but he hid the follicular deficiency with a golden helmet with curved horns off the front. "Ah, hello brother, hope I didn't startle you," Loxxi greeted, completely brushing over the fact he just stabbed Thor.

Thor was flush with a well of emotions. One, he was ecstatic to see his brother alive. Two, he was confused on how he was alive. Three, he was angry that his brother had just stabbed him. And four, he was embarrassed that he fell for the same trick Loxxi would consistently pull on him during their first childhood on Asgard. He stammered for a moment before eventually composing himself to ask the big question. "Loxxi, how are you back?"

Loxxi brushed some dust off his jacket before answering, "Well, when you saw Ghanoseid choke me out, that wasn't really me. That was an illusion I constructed prior, and I made a deal with someone to get me out of there. You didn't really think I would try to kill the most powerful being in the universe, with a damn knife, would you?"

Thor looked down at the knife in his side. He pulled it out and tossed it at the ground, "Frankly, brother, it seems pretty on brand for you. So, you just left me to die?!" He asked now quite upset given the information.

"Well, I had a feeling you'd be fine. And look, I was right! So, no harm, no fowl, eh Thor?" Loxxi asked moving in closer to Thor, only to pick up and sheathe his knife.

"I mourned your death, I had others to mourn that day already," Thor responded bitterly.

"Yes, I heard. Pity about Fate. Never liked him much, though," Loxxi added callously.

Thor sighed with exasperation, "I'm never going to learn, am I? I love you, brother. But you try my patience to the Nth Degree. Why are you here? And while it's on my mind, what was your plan with the Wrecking Gang?"

Loxxi was one of the longest standing foes to Thunderman and the LMI. His greater goals once he relearned his past were to conquer Earth, truly become a God again, and do it alongside his brother. Growing up exceedingly rich, he never truly valued human life. Once he learned he was half Asgardian, that respect for humanity dwindled even further. Loxxi had never understood what his brother had seen in the mortals, and that led to a deep-seated resentment. He'd be handily defeated many times, the result usually leading to Loxxi faking his death. But he always came back. This time seemed different though.

"Oh Thor, have I broken your resolve for me already? Color me disappointed," Loxxi said feigning sadness as he tapped his cheek, casting an illusion to color his skin a pale blue, only to fade back to normal. "I'm here to offer good tidings. I'm quitting world domination! I created that little diversion for you to get your attention. I wanted you to come find me, so I could give you the good news!" he announced with great gusto.

Thor was thrown off by the revelation, "What? I mean…that's good. But what caused this change of heart, brother?"

Loxxi smirked, "Well, after I abandoned you, it put things into perspective for me. Jotunheim brought me power, I controlled so much of what humans relied on. But I always felt empty. I had always thought it was because I wanted more, or that I wanted you to rule with me. No, it was something much simpler."

"What was it?"

"The people I "ruled" over did not respect me. They used and feared me. A ruler is merely but a tool used by the people to blame in hard times, and partake in with good times. Bureaucracy were the greatest chains I ever cast aside. It wasn't power that I wanted. It was adoration. A god's power does not derive from worship, but from true love to their patron. I wish to be loved by the world," Loxxi explained with great passion towards his plan. He took short steps back towards the artifacts, spreading out his arms in fanfare.

Thor was iffy on his brother's outlook, but it was better than it was before. He was going to humor him, at least for the moment. "Well, it's a start. Does that mean you wish to be a hero?"

"Yes, I do." Loxxi answered, "For years, I have envied this new life you've taken on as the savior of the people. Only now, do I understand what it truly is, and I am going to get myself a piece of that pie. I shall be better than you ever were. I shall make this world better than it ever has been under your protection," he boasted with a snicker, his tone turning more sinister.

Thor frowned, "Glory, is that all you seek? Have you learned nothing from your time on Midgard?"

"I've learned that humanity can be more than just drones for mindless work. That I did learn from you, brother. Additionally, the value of teamwork has been something that I've been forced to understand. So, taking a page out of your book, I'm assembling a League of my own!"

Thor grew worried again, "Okay Loxxi, what is it that you're planning to do?" As he asked, Thor motioned forward towards his brother. Loxxi was closer to the other artifacts. He could easily go for something. He readied his hammer in case there was need for a fight.

"Well brother, I have some friends in high and low places. A benefactor here and there, a few skilled fighters, but mostly those who can help me change the world," Loxxi answered as he inched his way backwards toward the Silent Zone Projector.

"In your image I assume," Thor asked as he reached for his hammer.

"Well, perhaps somewhat. Every great piece of art has some aspect of the artist within. But this shall be a community effort. I will reshape this world so that we all get what we want."

"And what is that you want, Loxxi?"

Loxxi sighed, "I want my brother back." He paused to reflect on their lives, "We were inseparable for over a millennium. But ever since Father cast us away, you've changed. You look at me as if I'm the creeping monster in the night. Your time as a so-called hero has alienated you from who you once were. Who we once were! The "God of Tomorrow", what even is that? Maybe if I'm finally on your level, we can finally go back to being brothers. That's all I've ever wanted!"

Thor sighed, he sympathized with his brother's perceived feelings of loss. But the man Thor-El once was had not been one that he was proud of. "I always thought I could make you better. But you never change. I don't know what you have planned, but I know it will be twisted. You deserve a better tomorrow too, Loxxi. But I can't give it to you." He raised his hammer and charged at Loxxi, prepared to strike him. Whether it be to incapacitate or kill him was unclear, but Thor knew his brother's silver tongue. Making a new world is never a good thing for the people who live in the old one.

Loxxi anticipated as such and quickly grabbed the Silent Zone Projector. Within another dimension, only accessible by this device, were those of extreme power. Inside were many rogue Asgardians who had similar delusions of grandeur Loxxi had. Because of this, he needed to retrieve someone inside he knew he could trust to follow him. So, Bal-Zod, Ur-Sif, and the Conquerors Three were out of the question. He did not end on good terms last he saw Lobo or Maxima either. So, while fiddling with the dials on the device, he found his one good option.

The projector itself did indeed look like an old movie projector. There were handles on the sides that allowed for portability. Loxxi aimed it like a gun as he pressed a button to release a ghastly figure from within. Another monster shot from a beam of light as it smacked the oncoming Thunderman across the face with what appeared to be a large, golden nail; the opposite of a hammer, I suppose.

This monster stood near identical build and outfit to Thor, but with a few stark differences. The tunic was purple, not black, with the chest shield's logo mirrored. The supposed red boots were golden. No scale armor covered the arms, revealing sickly looking white skin. The helmet was identical, but the face was not. Instead of Thor's divine handsomeness, this being had the face of a horse. He looked sewn together like Frankenstein's monster, and this was Loxxi's monster.

"Beta Ray Zero, how awful to see you again, my monster," Loxxi cheered as he saw one of his creations. This was a clone of Thor that Loxxi once created to try and discredit Thunderman, but he severely degraded over time. He was made from a combination of Thor's, his own, and the DNA of a strange being called Corban the Super-Horse. The genetic cocktail made this being incredibly strong, but certainly unstable. Considerable brain damage also reversed the meanings of most of his vocabulary. Thor saw this beast too dangerous to keep around, so he kept Beta Ray Zero locked away.

"Bezarro ready to harm Luthor," Zero greeted in a droning, but slurred voice. Imperfect as he was, Loxxi almost loved this creature like a son, though he deeply hid this sentiment. He was strong, loyal, and at his core innocent. He was an obvious pick for his rising Legion.

Thor had recoiled from the initial strike of the nail. A red imprint appeared on his face as he charged back in to clash against Beta Ray Zero.

"Let him pass," Loxxi commanded to his monster as he ran off to steal other various artifacts from the trophy room.

"No," Beta Ray Zero said flatly. As Thor leapt up into the air to swing down with his hammer, Zero swung his nail up clash against the face of the hammer. Instead of stabbing Thor with the pointed end of his nail, Beta Ray Zero continued to keep whacking him in the face with the flat end, as if Thor's face was a pile of documents waiting to be stamped.

The two were evenly matched in strength, but they were both about to get stronger. Thor swung his hammer in an uppercut motion to send Beta Ray Zero through the ceiling of the cave, crashing through and exposing him to the elements. The storm outside raged on as the wind and the weather cascaded against the paragons of power. While the one known as Superman would gain his power from the sunlight of a clear sky, Thunderman gained his power from the clouds, the rain, and the lightning.

Thor and Beta hovered over the cavern as they raised their weapons into the air. Thunder rumbled around them as bolts of lightning crashed down onto them. Their hammer and nail absorbed them like lightning rods. Radiating with power, the two flew at each other again and battled for dominance.

Hammer clashed with nail, creating loud clangs akin to the booming thunder surrounding them. Between strikes of their weapons, flurries of punches and kicks landed instead. The two were of equal strength, but while Thor was controlled and refined, Beta Ray Zero's fighting style was unhinged and savage. As the two traded blows, Thor tried to talk Beta Ray Zero out of fighting between hits. Figuring out the linguistic labyrinth would be the core challenge here though, "Zero, Loxxi plans to use you for…good intent. You are a nothing but a weapon to him!"

Beta Ray Zero took this as Loxxi holding him in high regard, "Bezarro betray his destroyer. He hate me, leave to abandon me for a reason. He in my debt. If I lose to you, me get to be Thunderman," the creature explained as he opened up his maw to blast a barrage of lightning from his equine mouth.

Thor cringed from the heat of the electricity, but he held strong and delivered a similar stream of voltage from his eyes. "You are more than what he…unmade you, you can live a life…beneath what he desires of you! Help me…fix him…wait hold on," Thor fumbled through his words trying to reverse their meanings until he was sent hurdling back to through the hole made through the cavern, back to the ground. In the midst of the chaos, Beta Zero was left in the air, holding both the hammer and the nail.

Thor staggered to his feet as he looked up to see that creature wielding his hammer. Perhaps in Beta Zero's twisted sense of logic, he viewed himself as worthy to wield it, and that belief let him do so. He looked around to try and find Loxxi. What Thor found was an eldritch blast to the gut channeled through a scepter his brother had collected.

Loxxi ran his hands up the length of the staff, it was solid gold with the fang of a Daxamite Serpent, it was strong enough to do physical harm to Asgardians. It also served as a nice conduit for offensive magic, "I do appreciate you holding onto this beautiful specimen for me, brother. You were always so sentimental."

"I don't know what you're going to do, but I will stop you," Thor proclaimed as he outstretched his hand to call back his hammer.

"Hubris, at least you kept that part of yourself." Loxxi commented with a smirk, "Your League exists to bolster your own egos, and as a result, you have left so many behind."

"First lesson of business: Turn any weakness into a strength. I shall take your failures and do what you set out to do better." Loxxi walked closer to Thor, brandishing his scepter. He then looked through the gaping hole in the cavern to see Beta Ray Zero struggling to hold onto Krypton. The big lug was trying his hardest to keep Thor from his mighty hammer. "It's all wrong, my monster. Keep it and go away," Loxxi called up to the false Asgardian.

Beta Ray Zero took this as to let Thor have his hammer and return to Loxxi's side. He had been struggling to maintain his grip on the hammer, it was building up a lot of potential energy. Zero finally let loose and the hammer Krypton rocketed back to Thor. But it had built up too much momentum, and instead of hitting Thor's hand, it crashed into his face, flooring the Asgardian.

"Well Thor, as much as I'd love to stay and chat, it seems you're in need of a nap. Don't try and find me. I'll find you when the time comes," Loxxi taunted as he loosened his tie.

Thor was bruised by being hit in the face with his own hammer. He tried getting back to his feet, but was already wiped out from fighting Beta Zero, "Answer me one thing, Loxxi. Why supply the Adth-Metal crowbar to Mannheim?"

Loxxi rolled his eyes, "My benefactor hates the stuff, I just needed to get rid of it. But nevertheless, here's to a better tomorrow." He jeered as Beta Zero descended next to him, "Awful shot, my monster. I have nothing, keep us here." He ordered as he adjusted his jacket collar to be easily picked up by the clone.

Beta Zero shook his head and grabbed Loxxi by the back of his suit collar. He looked to the skies and prepared to jump, not before letting out an almost giddy "Down, down, and nearby!" And Beta Ray Zero shot up like a rocket into the sky, leaving but a cloud of dust in his wake.

Thor reached up to the sky, but he was too exhausted to follow. He had to report all of this to the League. Loxxi was on the rise building a Legion of what Thor understood to be made of the League's failures? He wasn't quite sure what that meant. He knew that at least one of them was a magic user, justifying the distaste for Adth Metal. But for now, Thor was going to pass out and recuperate from a very strenuous battle.

Chapter 6: An Unholy Alliance

About a day or so after Captain Gamma's visit, the Tower of Fate was looking in much better condition. The mess and disarray were restored, replaced with a quality fit for a sacred bastion for the upholding of order. The Emerald Witch swept away the months of delivery food boxes, empty coffee mugs, and trashy gossip magazines. After Banner gave her a much-needed reality check, Jessica started to work on herself again. There was also the need to find her lantern to recharge her ring.

Jessica stared at her father's helm on the side table. It didn't bother her as much to look at it anymore. She was still afraid to go back out into the world and be a hero again, but she knew that it was her responsibility to the world. A raven sat on the windowsill, bathed in the moonlight. It almost appeared a deep blue. It cawed loudly at the witch before Jessica swung her broom at it to shoo the bird away.

The witch pushed aside the last of the trash with a broomstick to finally find the emerald lantern. "Always the last place you look," she commented, chuckling to herself. Jessica set the broom aside and picked up the lantern, raising it into air.

The lantern was beautifully ornate. The device used to recharge the power rings was sculpted from crystal and etched with various mystic runes. Within the chamber, a green flame roared with power. The fact it took so long for Jessica to find such a conspicuous object was embarrassing to her. The lantern and ring came from the Green Mystics Coven, not to be confused with their cosmic counterpart, the Kree Lantern Corps. The Fatal Compass was gifted the ring and lantern by the Coven in return for assisting them in defeating Desperomammu, and they were later gifted to Jessica.

Jessica stared down at her other hand with the ring on it, "Well, here goes nothing," she said taking a deep breath. She closed her fist and plunged her ring into the green fire of the lantern. The Emerald Witch waited for a moment to feel some sort of surge of energy, but nothing happened. Jessica then remembered to activate the lantern, she had to recite an oath to the Coven. Did she remember what it was she had to say, well no. But this is somewhat excusable, everybody forgets their passwords every now and then.

She racked her brain to try and remember the "magic words" she set aside for herself to unlock the power of the lantern. But while she tried to focus, the raven returned to the windowsill of the tower, cawing again. Jessica flinched and she dropped the lantern with a clatter. This, naturally, made Jessica quite annoyed. She grabbed the broom again and ran to smack the raven again. The witch swung at the bird, but as the bristles made contact, the raven disappeared in a cloud of smoke and feathers.

The cloud swirled around Jessica; the echoing sounds of cawing radiated from it. Jessica started to panic as she clenched her fist to try and muster some power out of the ring. "C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon, do something," Jessica shouted at the faintly flickering ring. The feathers flew around the girl as all the candles lighting the tower went out. The fear started to overtake Jessica as she struggled to conjure anything at all from the ring. She looked to her father's helm. Perhaps by tapping into its power, she could have a chance against this dark force.

Jessica lunged towards the table and grabbed the Helm of Iscariot from the table. This was the one artifact untouched by the merging of worlds. It was the only conduit for which the normal realm had access to my power. At least that was before I myself was amalgamated. The Phantom Stranger's power is now bound by the confines of the Watcher. I can no longer lend my aide, and must simply witness the events of the universe as they unfold. Jessica would learn this as she placed the helmet on her head as a last-ditch effort, and the faceplate did close over her face as a function independent of my power. But with Nabu ousted, and myself restrained, it was nothing much more than an ornamental dinner bell.

Upon seeing Jessica wear the helm to no avail, the cloud of feathers cascaded to the other side of the tower. As each feather touched the stone walls, they melted into a viscous, black, goo. The darkness shaped into demonic portal. The hole opened in the shape of a large "X", revealing a chaotic hellscape behind it. The black smoke gathered around the portal to create…what could only be described as a wheelchair ramp.

Jessica was extremely confused with what was happening, the helmet not working at all also distressed her. She awaited what was going to emerge from what she could only perceive as oblivion. Jessica was terrified, but still held out her ring. Everything was telling her to run, but if she was to be the Emerald Witch, she had to stand in the way of evil regardless of her own fear. There only a small amount of charge left in the ring, but hopefully it would be enough to fend off whatever was coming. It glowed with the emerald light Jessica needed to fight back, "Here goes everything."

A silhouette emerged from the chaotic mess of a dimension within the portal, a very short silhouette. Out from the portal and down the eldritch ramp was an old wooden wheelchair. And within that wheelchair was a well-dressed, 14-year-old boy. He had black hair that pointed up like little devil horns. A yellow wool blanket was draped across his lap. The boy wheeled his way down the ramp and looked up to notice the helmeted Jessica, "Erik, it's time for your biannual ass-kicking! Round one hundred and… ah it doesn't matter. You keep score, not me. Sorry I'm a bit late this time 'round. Your buddy Corrigan really put me through Hell, literally."

Jessica was even more confused about what was going on, but there was a demonic-looking child talking about order vs chaos, so she was taking action. She charged up a blast of energy from her ring, and let loose a beam of green force at the boy.

The boy held out his hand and absorbed the green beam. It swirled around him like a firework until it fizzled out, "Wow, using the ring too? You really wanted to shake things up for this one. The new clothes, honestly a little drab, have you let yourself go, Erik?"

Jessica removed the helmet with her free hand, keeping her ring focused on the boy. "Who are you, and how do you know my father," she asked as she charged up another blast, despite already knowing that wouldn't do anything.

The boy's eyes lit up as if he saw his presents on Hannukah; mild excitement, but not all too shocked. "Father? Oh, this is a twist. He told me he got busy, but which one are you?" The boy slowly wheeled closer to Jessica; the wooden wheels creaked as they rolled across the floorboards.

As he advanced, the boy looked back and snapped his fingers. This triggered the portal behind him to close, and the black goo reformed back into feathers and flew to the boy's side. The feathers transmuted back into a raven, now easily noticeable as truly deep blue with striking yellow eyes. Afterward, it perched on the arm of the boy's chair.

"Stay back," Jessica shouted as she stepped back and fired off another blast from her ring. But instead of absorbing this attack himself, the raven flew out in front of the chair to take the blow.

Before her very eyes, the bird transformed into the figure of an astonishing female avian humanoid. Blue wings shielded the boy from the attack before fully reshaping into slender arms. She didn't speak, only glaring at Jessica as she stepped behind the chair to wheel the boy the rest of the way across the very large room.

The boy put his fingers to his temple, closed his eyes, and sent a powerful psionic wave at Jessica. The dark forces of the boy's mind compelled the witch to lower her ring and dropped the helmet to the ground. "Now, now, Jessica. There's no need to be postal," the boy said before the bird woman squawked at him, seemingly correcting his words, "Hostile, right. Sorry, I mess up my vocab every now and then. You can call be Khlarion X. My lovely assistant here is Miss Tiquel. She's my familiar, my anchor that lets me interact with this realm. You call yourself a witch, you should know about familiars, yes?" he asked stopping about six feet from Jessica.

Jessica wanted to fire another blast at Khlarion, but she couldn't. Her mind wouldn't listen to itself. All she could do was squirm, "What's going on, how did you-"

"I'm a telepath, deary. I read your thoughts and shut down your will to fight me. I'm also your old man's designated nemesis," Khlarion began to explain. "He works for the Lords of Order, real stuffing bunch, I work for the Lords of Chaos. Every six months we duke it out to maintain balance I the universe and all that. A flaming skeleton in a green cloak has kept me from fulfilling that duty, so I must make up for lost time. So if you please, can you point me in the general direction of the Fatal Compass?"

Jessica was quiet. She realized that he didn't know that Fate was dead. "Well…that's complicated," was all she could spit out.

Khlarion scowled, "Come on, I don't have time to doddle here. Ah bolt it, I'll just get it out of you myself," he said in frustration before plunging back into Jessica's mind to get his desired answer. As he scanned through her memories, Khlarion's look of anger faded to that of great sadness, "No…it can't be." Upon the realization, Khlarion was starting to tear up.

Khlarion lost his focus on Jessica, freeing her from his psychic stoppage. She went to blast him again while he was distracted, but she had used up the remaining charge in her ring. There wasn't much she could do anymore.

Despite a now present sense of dread for what was coming next, there was something familiar about the boy, at least appearance wise. He was dressed in an all-black suit reminiscent of wear from 1940s Europe. Based on the few old photos she'd seen, Khlarion reminded him of her father at that age, that dreadful time. As Jessica looked upon the now crying Khlarion, he reminded her of someone else. "I thought he was your nemesis, why are you sad?"

"Oh, dear girl, it's never that simple." Khlarion answered through sniffles. He then conjured a tissue out of nothing, wiping his eyes. "Especially when you're dealing with the buckets that is magic. Erik and I have been doing this for almost 80 years. We fought twice that amount, but I loved that man like a brother. Heck, before I got trampled and got hired by the cosmic madmen, we were brothers."

It then all clicked for Jessica, she knew who Khlarion was, or at least who he used to be, "Are you…my Uncle Charles?"

Khlarion laughed in spite of himself at the proposition, but it was technically correct. "Nobody's called me by that name except for Erik in decades. It feels weird to have somebody else say it."

Jessica was awestruck, she was literally seeing a ghost. "Dad told me that his brother died during the war…in the camps." She paused for a moment before she mentioned the latter. Such atrocities still greatly unsettled her. "What happened to you?"

Khlarion was quiet for a moment. He glanced around the room as if he was waiting for something bad to happen. Once nothing did, he moved on to answer her question, "Well, after Erik got the helmet from the Lords of Order, he tore apart the barbed wire and all the fences to free everybody and exact sweet revenge on our captors. It all happened so fast; people were scrambling to get outta there. I tripped and the hordes flattened me. Erik never found me, the ghost in the dinner bell whisked him off for greater things," Khlarion answered with a twinge of resentment.

"So, while I was left to die, until a whacky little bunch called the Lords of Chaos picked me up by my bootstraps, threw me a chair and a bird," Khlarion gently stroked the side of Ms. Tiquel's face before continuing, "And they made me into a demon, hellbent on pestering my little brother to weaken the resolve of his new bosses."

Jessica eventually pulled up a chair and sat down across from the boy, "What did you do?"

Khlarion smiled at his niece, "I used my powers to make things weird for people. Cause a little chaos, do a little trolling as the kids say, at least I think so. Curve a bullet here, stage a moon landing here, exponentially grow the number of Metamutants in the world there. You know, I had a little fun," he answered with a chuckle.

Jessica was on the edge of her seat as Khlarion described his escapades as an avatar of Chaos. While irrelevant to the amalgamated creations, all these acts were original to this universe. Obviously Charles Xavier had never done these acts in his home world, but nor had the Witch Boy. The ultimately restructured timeline of Charles and Erik was caused by Magneto's reality warping with the Infinity Helmet. Magneto cut and pasted various puzzle pieces of his reality. And while I opened the new box for Kent Nelson, he and the Witch Boy incorporated those pieces into their own jigsaw themselves. And this simple yet convoluted session of multiversal arts and crafts forged the relationship we learn about now.

"Meanwhile, Erik would have to clean up all my messes. We did that for about 80 years. He got old, I didn't, by the nature of me being dead. Now he's gone, and I don't know what to do with myself anymore." His voice broke upon that last sentence. Khlari…Charles knew Erik better than anyone. Despite being on opposite sides of the cosmic coin, they were extremely close, as is the nature of a coin.

His story shook Jessica, why hadn't she ever heard about this? In turn, she asked "Why didn't my father ever tell me about you?"

Khlarion sighed and rolled his eyes, "Erik's willingness to keep to himself was always one of his greatest qualities. I was a telepath even before I died, but he kept it a secret from the police. Always tried to protect me he did. I don't blame that he wanted to protect you from me."

Jessica huffed, "I can protect myself. At least I should be able to. This ring is running on fumes," she said with annoyance. "It runs on willpower, but I don't have that much of that. I could use the lantern, but I forgot my oath. Where does your magic come from?"

Khlarion wheeled himself forward and conjured a green flame in his hand, "Chaos, Jessie, chaos. The Coven made those rings to restrain and focus the magical energy inside every being. They put limits on that power to keep everybody who uses them reliant and under their control. Too many rules, your potential is squandered." As Khlarion explained, the flame twisted and reshaped into a pristine silver rose, then into a messy array of black tendrils, and finally into a miniature version of himself. That miniature version also held an even smaller version of himself, and so on.

Jessica tried to wrap her head around the abstract concepts lying within her uncle's power. "Chaos magic, it feels so alluring…but, Dad told me that if I were to take his place, I had to maintain order."

Khlarion scoffed, "Oh cheese. Erik never gave two shifts about Order. He had a megalomaniacal god yelling in his ear 25/6 that it was the more imported thing since sliced bread. Order and Chaos are just abstract concepts used to give divine beings with overingrated Eggos a sense of purpose. I know my little brother hated the stuff he was being fed. He liked that justice guy though, the Invisible Clock Man or something," the boy briefly rambled before finding his point. "Anyway, I know the thing Erik loved using his powers for the most was helping the world become a better place. I never really got what he meant, but if he chose you of all his kids to be his successor, you probably do."

Jessica was getting confused again, which was a common trend over the course of tonight after meeting the strange demon child with a magic bird lady who claimed to be her uncle. Today was a strange day. "So, what are you getting at," the witch asked.

"Well, evidently, my schedule has been super freed up. But I'd rather not bide my time waiting around in some nightmare dimension. I could some extra company, particularly some family. Family is harder to push away," Khlarion answered. "If you let me stick around here, give me some non-bird company, I'll train you in my abundant knowledge of Chaos Magic. That way you can uphold your father's legacy by being a hoagie!"

Jessica gave Khlarion a look before Ms. Tiquel squawked at him again. "Sorry, being a hero. Maybe with my power, you could even surpass your old man."

Jessica pondered the proposition. Khlarion was the only family she had that she knew the whereabouts of, assuming he was telling the truth. He seemed like someone who was hiding a lot under the surface, whether it be grief or something sinister. Either way, keeping an eye on the witch boy in the wheelchair was wise. The prospect of more power also intrigued the Emerald Witch. She wanted to uphold her father's legacy, but without a working ring or helm, this seemed to be her best option.

"I know that you know that this is the best case scenario for the both of us. I'd rather not try and track down your other sister," Khlarion commented before outstretching his hand, "So, we got a deal, Jessica?"

Jessica hesitated briefly, but then she looked over at her father's helm. He would've wanted her to get stronger and always have someone there to support her. And there was that staring her in the face. She could get everything she wanted, so the Emerald Witch shook the demon's hand, their union igniting in a green flame, and would soon begin her training in the ways of Chaos Magic.

As the champions of this world come to terms with a world without the Fatal Compass, new threats have arisen to fill the vacuum of power. The enigma that is Khlarion X taking Jessica Maximoff under his wheels can either lead to the salvation or the destruction of this world. While this world was created unnaturally, those that reside in it are still worthy of life, and for now, life shall go on. And as your guide, I will show you your way through the magic and monsters of the Amalgam.

Chapter 7: Assembling a Plan

This world was born out desperation, and out of righteousness. The actions of Doctor Fate and Klarion the Witch Boy were set to save their world from falling to Darkseid and the forces of Apokolips. Old hatchets were buried for the sake of a greater good. The actions of Magneto were to change his world in retribution for it wronging him and his kind. While that world was amalgamated with another before we could see its impacts, we can see bits and pieces of what Erik Lensherr had used the Infinity Gems to do throughout the Amalgam.

Professor X was never the brother of Magneto by blood. Perhaps their bond was like that in spirit, causing Magneto to make that change to his reality. Had Charles died as Erik gained his powers, no one could stand in his way to reshape the world to benefit mutantkind. In this world, the Fatal Compass and Khlarion X battled for decades to uphold the balance between Order and Chaos. But one does not fight an abstract concept. Khlarion would influence humanity to do nonsensical things with his telepathy, and then create inane scenarios for the world to work through by assistance of Chaos Magic, the power of random potential and erratic possibilities. All the while, the Fatal Compass served as a mystical janitor of sorts to clean up the messes his brother caused. This balance allowed for magic to be kept under wraps from the rest of the world, at least for a while.

One of the most impactful acts of the chaotic demon child was the influx of Metamutants into the world. They had always existed in some fashion throughout history, Wolfhawk and Stormbird were examples of such. But they were few and far between. That was at least until the early 90s, when Khlarion toyed with extradimensional forces to create a genetic bomb of sorts. Once it exploded, it awakened what he dubbed the "X-Gene", which gave around 5% of the world natural superhuman powers. Bear in mind, this is completely unrelated to the Inhuman Amazons doing the same thing to an even smaller percentage of the population.

Since then, most of the fights between Erik and Khlarion were over how the world reacted to their sudden influx of existence. Humans are not too keen on the acceptance of people different than them, particularly when they have the potential to level buildings. Not wanting to repeat history, both Khlarion and Erik were dedicated to protecting these new children of the atom. Though given their mystical positions, both acted completely opposite to the temperaments of their Mutant counterparts. The Fatal Compass was the one to work to maintain peaceful coexistence and keep humanity from eradicating them, while Khlarion X would warp various metamutants into those of even greater power to cause chaos to eventually try and reign supreme as the dominant species on Earth. Given where we are now, it can be easily assumed who was better at their job.

Over the 30 years since the "X-Bomb" went off, humanity was forced to accept that superpowered individuals were here, and they just had to deal with it. Stark Labs was formed in the pursuit of research on these new abilities. Government agencies such as SHIELD, the Super-Human Intelligence, Enforcement, and Legislation Directive, work to minimize damage caused by those with powers through specialized training or if necessary, containment. And laws were passed to allow for professional use of metamutant abilities and the protection of civil liberties. It was a far from perfect system, but it maintained order.

Order was established and things were peaceful, the worst the world had to deal with was the stray news headline talking about the Blind Bat. Then, Thunderman showed up. Now humanity knew the Norse Gods and aliens to an extent, were real. Sergeant Speed came back from the dead, a giant green monster empowered by several Gods of different pantheons showed up, and the son of the founder of Stark Labs was blown up and rebuilt as a cyborg. The world was becoming so much larger than Fate had initially hoped. All the while, he'd been raising three kids, one of them in far away from the other two.

Things continued to get even more chaotic under Erik's supervision. A series of explorers traversed an ancient Egyptian tomb, and upon activation of the Orb of Ra, gained elemental abilities and resummoned a powerful pharaoh. These explorers, called the Elemental Four, would then also find the king of some version of Atlantis, and revealed the kingdom's existence to the world. Then Wonder Crystal returned with the same time a new, different race of superpowered individuals showed up, the Inhuman Amazons. A human air force pilot by the name of Carol Jordan, thought missing, came back from space with a collection of advanced alien technology beyond human comprehension. And worst of all, a cosmic force of destruction known as Brainiactus nearly destroyed the Earth, only to be fought back by its own herald, the Silver Martian. Throughout all of this, the Lords of Order forbade the Fatal Compass to interfere. The 2010's had made things much more complicated, much to the Fatal Compass's chagrin, and to Khlarion X's sheer delight. None of that was even caused by the boy, all the demon child had to do was watch and let his brother piece an ever-chaotic world back together.

And then there came a day unlike any other. The half-brother of Thunderman, Lo-Tal, otherwise known to the world as Loxxi Luthorson had made his claim to conquer the earth. Amassing great resources as a powerful business magnate and arranging a deal with the deep-space tyrant Ghanoseid, Loxxi launched a full-scale invasion of earth with Ghansoseid's Paratauri. The Lords of Order had told Fate that this was the natural order of things, and forced him not to intervene with the consummation of the planet. He had to watch his home, his family, be destroyed all over again.

That was, until the emerging powers of this world assembled right before Fate's very eyes. Thunderman, Blind Bat, Wonder Crystal, Sergeant Speed, Black Orca, Green Marvel, and even the Silver Martian, inspired to fight for humanity by the Elemental Four, banded together to fight back against Loxxi's invasion, and they sent the alien drones packing back into the deep void of space. They fought for the safety of the world when he could not. Old friends from a bygone age had returned just when he needed them to. Eventually those first seven heroes would form a team to protect from otherworldly threats. To avenge the worlds that had fallen before by the threats they faced then. They would call themselves…

The Avengers of Justice

That name stuck for about a week, then the Silver Martian left to explore the universe, partially to get away from the Blind Bat. The Martian was a telepath, and he was adverse to handle the sheer darkness of thoughts radiating off the Bat. And after that, Victor Stark, the Cyberman, came on to take his place. Stark gave the team proper funding, provided a satellite headquarters, and the team was rebranded in honor of those which came before them. The Fatal Compass had come on as a mystical consultant to help guide the team in the right direction, and as far as the history reforged by necessity goes, the League of Marvelous Individuals was born.

I am the Phantom Watcher, the spirit of Justice bound to be but a witness to this unfolding universe. As your guide, I felt it necessary to inform you on how this universe corrected itself upon amalgamation. With that given context, we can now delve into the present, a day after the return of Loxxi Luthorson, and after the Emerald Witch's deal with the demon child, and we shall see how much the LMI has changed since the birth of the Amalgam.

Within the confines of the Watchtower, only two sat around the meeting table. Diana and Victor were at the tower, while Thor, the Bat, Billy, and Jessica were on a conference call over wireless communicators in their ears. With the ever-busy life of a superhero, one cannot always spend time around a table to discuss politics.

"So, are you back for real Jessica," Matt was the first to ask.

"Yeah, I'm doing some special training on the side to get back to full strength, but I think I'm okay to run missions," Jessica answered between sharp breaths, as she was currently training against Khlarion, sending eldritch emerald blasts against massive dark tentacles emerging from a portal created by the demon child.

"Good…hey you okay Jess? You sound outta breath," Billy chimed in concerned.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jessica answered taking a knee as she charged up her ring to create a construct of a monstrous figure not to dissimilar to Captain Gamma to hold back the hellish kraken, "I'm just in a middle of a workout. It's a lot of cardio. I gotta go, let me know if you need me, bye!" she said quickly hanging up on the call and returning to the training.

Matt's super hearing didn't exactly work over the phone, so he didn't know what was going on the other end, "Well, she seems in better spirits, and hopefully in better physical condition."

"Alright, we're done with her. Let's talk about the important stuff," Victor chimed in impatiently. He wanted to get straight to the subject of Loxxi.

"Yes, well Loxxi is indeed alive, he invaded my cavern and freed Beta Ray Zero," Thor answered full of regret.

"More than 6 months, hot damn! You owe me twenty bucks, Diana," Billy butted in excitedly over the phone.

"Wait, you placed a wager on my brother's life," Thor asked sounding offended.

"We all knew he'd come back, Thor. He fakes his death every few years. I humored Billy because I thought he would've come back sooner," Diana explained somewhat embarrassed.

"I thought it would've taken longer. I'll wire you the rest Banner. Please continue, Thor," Victor added before trying to course correct the meeting again.

Thunderman groaned in annoyance before continuing, "Well, Loxxi mentioned something about a benefactor, he needed to get rid of the Adth Metal because it was upsetting him. Loxxi was planning on forming a "league of his own". He wants the glory of the people by changing world, beating us at our own game so to speak."

"I'll keep a lookout for Nygma. Without his company, Loxxi will need someone to gather funding discretely," the Blind Bat responded.

Victor rolled his eye in response to the Bat's posturing. "Look Bats, I know the twig in the question mark covered suit is a major player where you're from, but I don't think a guy with as big an ego as Loxxi Luthorson is going to recruit the lawyer of a drugged-up crime boss just to run his money."

"Wesley Nygma is more than just a fundraiser," the Bat interjected, "He kept Bane's entire operation in the shadows for years. He's a brilliant tactician and knows how to manipulate the law to help anyone get away with anything. Every good crime syndicate needs a good lawyer, and he's the best there is."

Cyberman rolled his eye at the Blind Bat's posturing, "Fine, fine. I'll put him on the list of people to look out for. Any other costumed weirdos from Goth's Kitchen we should worry about? What about Jigsaw Face, Lightning Bug, what about that guy on the stilts with the puppet mob boss," Victor asked mockingly as he started entering a few names into the console attached to the table, causing holograms of the mugshots to appear above it. This was for Diana's benefit, as she was the only one who could see them right now.

The Blind Bat stewed in his annoyance for a moment before answering, "The Puppeteer and Don Pinocchio. But he's reformed now, and I keep the marionette in the Batacombs."

"Loxxi wanted to outdo us. He wanted to assemble a league to do our jobs better. But he talked a lot about wanting a family again," Thor explained further, "He wanted to make himself into someone worthy of my respect. Perhaps those he is bringing together have similar relationships with the rest of you."

"Well, he's had weirder plans. There was the frog thing," Billy mused with a stifled chuckle.

"We don't talk about the frog thing," Thor snapped.

"Speaking of animal transformation, he's probably got Minerva working for him. She can match Sarge's speed, Bat's agility, and Diana's strength. She's the perfect muscle if Loxxi wants to counter us. Not to mention she's Jessica's sister if we're really going down the family angle," Victor proposed clinically, as he pulled up an image of the Silver Cheetah to the table. As the name suggests, she had the appearance of an anthropomorphic cheetah with silver fur, clad in a green bodysuit with white lightning bolt detailing.

Diana stared up at the picture of Minerva Maximoff in quiet brooding. A wave of regret and guilt washed over her. She was Fate's eldest daughter, and for a time, a romantic partner of Diana. Minerva's superhuman speed was from a talisman given to her by her father, and she had served on the League for about a month as Miss Mercury. But unbeknownst to anyone, including Fate, within the talisman lay a curse that if the wearer was not of purity, they would become a bloodthirsty monster. Upon the consummation of the love between Diana and Minerva, she lost her humanity. Diana blamed herself, and the twisted mind of Minerva had done the same, and any attempt to save/cure her was in vain.

Diana snapped out of her haze with a tap on her shoulder from a metallic hand, "Hey Diana, you still in there," Stark asked with a concerned look.

"I'm fine, Victor. Thank you," Diana responded, putting on a reassuring smile. She found it therapeutic to smile regardless of her feelings, hoping eventually she'd start being happy again. It had about a 60% success rate, but over time that ratio has deteriorated.

Amidst her rumination, the rest of the League had been discussing other potential members Loxxi could add to his Legion. Names tossed around included Captain Winters and his Rogue Hydras, Attuma Nereus, Vandal Sabre, Circe the High Evolutionary, and the sinister Yon-Sinestro, among others. All were villains that were currently on the run, Blind Bat had proposed the theme of failure meant that he was assembling villains that the League had failed to permanently defeat or capture.

"That doesn't seem quite right," Thor disagreed. "Loxxi isn't so keen on working with so many big egos. He needs to be fully in charge. I have doubts that his mysterious benefactor even exists, maybe it's a red herring to throw us off course."

"Speaking of egos, Black Doom has been awfully quiet lately, what're the odds he's planning something," Victor proposed.

"If Doom was helping Loxxi, he would make himself known. He would probably even call his team the "Legion of Doom"," Blind Bat joked dryly.

"I doubt he's involved, the Four and I have him under control," Billy quickly shot down, he then continued to explain, "Ralph and I created a big force field around Khandatveria that even my magic can't break through. He'll take care of his people like the good little dictator he is, but otherwise he's essentially imprisoned."

Diana then came to a realization, "Imprisoned…maybe he's going for the people we've already beaten, breaking them out, and promising revenge on us if they join him. I mean, he went to the Cavern of Solitude to break out Beta Ray Zero, what's stopping him from going to all the other prisons and picking out hardened criminals like a child in a candy store?"

"Yeah, she's probably right! I feel like we're due for another breakout anyway. You can never hold these kinds of people for too long. Some are just born evil," Victor lamented.

"It's never that simple, crime is almost always a choice made of desperation. Redemption is always possible," the Bat asserted. Had they all been there in person, he may have shot Stark a glare.

Victor rolled his eye at the remark, "Sure, that's why all your little crazies are "locked up" in that sorry excuse for a hospital you call Ryker's Asylum. Even the worst of the worst, Kingpain, Dexter Zsasz, Purple Joke? Crime bosses, serial killers, mind-control rapists, do they all deserve redemption in your…well I can't say eyes, can't I? Sometimes you just have to cut the wire and let them fall."

Brief chatter turned to visceral arguing between the Blind Bat and Cyberman before Billy spoke up, "Guys, shut up!"

Billy's outburst managed to quiet the two, "We've been at this together for too long. We've all agreed we never kill unless we must. You've all taught me there's always another way. I've had my fair share of escaped bad guys, and my guys are a cut above the rest in terms of power. But I handle it the way I think is right. I'm not sure if there's good in everybody, but I'm willing to keep them around to look for it. I'll head back to the Cube of Eternity in the next few days to check on Leading Mind, General Sivana, anybody who could pose a threat by working with Luthorson. I suggest you all do the same." Banner spoke with authority despite his stature. He was committed to their cause, he didn't care for the team squabbling, he just saw a problem, and worked to figure out how to solve it.

"Good call Captain. Stark, we'll discuss this later. I'll assemble a team to guard Ryker's immediately. I'll guard the maximum-security wing myself," the Bat said with a degree of pride in his voice.

"Tell Tim I said "Hi" for me," Billy requested.

"I'll let Pupil know. I should go, I have other calls. Bye." And just like that, the Blind Bat was off the call.

Thor had been quiet during the less civil part of the meeting, but he agreed with the Bat's and Banner's sentiments. "I'll call the Sergeant after this and make sure he investigates the security at the Iron Vault. I'd do it myself, but I have work elsewhere."

"I'll check the Cube this weekend, I have a test to study for tonight. Diana, Vic, Don, I'll talk to you all later," Billy said before hanging up his communicator. He was currently in his college dorm, doing chemistry homework during the entirety of the meeting.

"I suppose that leaves the two of you to go to the One Eyed Wall's little hellscape. I wish you luck. Farewell friends." Thor said before hanging up his comm. He was in the office of a hospital doing paperwork in his Donald Kent visage. When he wasn't flying around, saving people in a cape, he was here in the hospital, saving people on the operating table in a lab coat as a surgeon.

Into his office came his elegant colleague, Dr. Lois Foster, "Hey, Smollberg, we got a heart transplant in the west wing already prepped for you. Ready to hog all the glory," she teased to Donald with a cheeky smile.

Donald stood from his desk an grabbed his cane, "Oh Lois, you truly know how to make a man's day, it's my favorite operation," he replied returning her level of snark. He removed his glasses and set them on his desk. And with that, he followed her to the operating room to begin surgery.

Chapter 8: What Lies Beneath

With Thor gone, the only two left in contact at the Watchtower were Diana and Victor. Victor was focused on something he was viewing inside his half mask. Once he finished, he turned to Diana. "Well, I've scheduled a "routine inspection" with our SHIELD liaison. I could use your company incase things go south. You coming with me, Princess?"

Diana was once again snapped out of another haze and quickly nodded, "Yeah, sure. I don't believe I've visited before. I've not heard good things. Although it will be nice to see Agent Barton again."

"Didn't think you remembered his name. Anyway, let's go, punching in the coords now," Victor responded with a shrug as he began typing away at the panel in his arm.

Diana stepped up onto the teleporter in the center of the meeting table and extended her hand down to help Victor up. Victor took her hand and pulled himself onto the pad. With a few more button presses and one final tap, the teleporter whirred. And with a flash of light, Wonder Crystal and Cyberman were gone from the Watchtower, and reappeared at the docks of Star Orleans, Louisiana.

Diana looked around to see a busy city behind them, the bombastic sounds of jazz and the aroma of freshly fried beignets invaded her senses. Her plastered smile felt real for a moment as she felt some of humanity's simple beauty.

Victor took Diana by the shoulder and turned her the other way, "We're on business here, Princess. We're heading out there." The cyborg then pointed out into the ocean. The coast was covered in a thick, murky cloud of fog. But just before the horizon, a faint domelike shape could be made out sitting in the middle of the water. That was the Belle Raft Superhuman Correction Facility. This was SHIELD's most extreme procedure when it came to the containment and "rehabilitation" of Metamutants, or any other enhanced persons by other miscellaneous means.

Diana was unnerved by the ghoulish sight of the yonder prison, "Surely there are better places to house them during their rehabilitation. Why didn't you just teleport us to the prison itself?"

Victor shrugged, "They installed some special tech inside the place that prevents teleportation, a kind of spatial lock. Some metas can teleport, so they took the precaution in case they ever had to keep someone like that in." Cyberman then triggered the repulsor jets in his feet and slowly lifted off the ground, "Let's just fly there, it'll take five minutes tops."

Diana sighed and aimed her hands at the ground. She channeled a gust of wind around her a began to levitate. Guided by the currents of air surrounding her, she flew across the water towards Belle Raft in the distance. Once she took off, Victor followed suit, rocketing behind her.

Cyberman as a great deal faster than Wonder Crystal when it came to aerial mobility, but he wasn't exactly in a rush, and he didn't mind maintaining conversation with Diana. While he found her idealism a little naïve, it was equally admirable to him. There was also the fact she was drop dead gorgeous and he didn't mind looking at such a nice face.

Diana wasn't paying much attention to Victor as they flew to the Raft. Minerva was still on her mind, in addition to the weight of all her other responsibilities. She'd been working with Amanda Fury and the higher ups at SHIELD for years to do what's best for her fellow Inhumans. She was also the face of international efforts by the LMI, being the usual hero sent to handle major disturbances in southern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. She had the largest ground to cover because she was the most versatile. Amazonian physiology, millennia of combat training, and mastery of the elements; earth, wind, fire and water, made her comparable in power to Thunderman and Captain Gamma.

But with that power came with lots of unwanted attention. If she could be that powerful, to have the potential of a god, then so could anyone of the same blood, and thus have the same potential for destruction. At least that's what the common person would think. There was an even greater pressure to set a good example for her sisterhood, to show the world that the Inhuman Amazons are a force for good, to be the statuesque symbol of perfection anyone could aspire, and that level of extreme expectations she set for herself was overwhelming to her.

But nobody can be perfect, Diana knew she had surely made some mistakes beyond the ones she already ruminated over, and the other just slipped through the cracks. Eventually they would come back to haunt her. But for sake of those she cared about, Diana suffered in silence, putting on the smile she needed to show to let everyone around her that things were going to be okay. She held back a lot of herself from the League, the only ones she confided with were Sarge, her brother in arms and best friend, and oddly enough, the Blind Bat. His enhanced senses always let him know how she was truly feeling.

As the two neared closer to the prison, Diana felt another wave of unease hit her, fully independent of the crashing waves across the ocean beneath them. "Victor, doesn't this place seem a bit extreme? A manmade prison island seems excessive," Diana proposed as they landed at the edge of the Raft. It was smaller than expected up close, but that wasn't to say it was small. It was roughly the size and shape of an oil rig, with concrete pillars jutting down into the murky depths to match.

"This is the place for the most dangerous criminals in the world. They gotta be kept far off from the rest of the world so they can't hurt the normal people. The best armor from danger is a cage around it," Stark explained cynically. "My worst enemies are locked up here, at least the ones that aren't still running around. It's the only place I trust to hold them."

Before Diana could give a response, the front entrance of the prison opened. Large, steel, sliding doors receded into the walls. Out from it came a man in a sharp black suit, dark sunglasses, and a head of snow-white hair. "Good afternoon Mr. Stark, Ms. Amaquelin. My name is Agent Phil Faraday, I'll be your new liaison to SHIELD effective immediately." Faraday spoke with firm authority, but with an underlying tone of friendliness.

Victor raised an eyebrow, "New liaison, what happened to Barton?"

"Agent Rick Francis Barton, codename: Eagleeye, has been promoted to Level 7, beyond my level of clearance. All I know is he's doing specialized missions for Director Fury," Faraday answered walking up to the two and extending out his hand, "I want to put aside any worries, I don't want to get in the way of what you're doing. I'm only here to help."

Diana smiled cordially and shook Phil's hand, "We'll it's always nice to make new friends. It's good to meet you, Agent. We should get going into Belle Raft. We have the suspicion a breakout may be happening soon, and we just want to check the security," she explained looking back into the fog. "Let's continue discussion inside."

Agent Faraday nodded and led Diana and Victor into the complex. The doors slammed shut behind them with a loud metallic clang. Victor flinched at the noise and started tapping the side of his helmet, "Hey Phil, I'm not getting any signal. My GRID's offline."

"Another security measure, Mr. Stark. All communication in and out of the prison are sent through a discrete frequency, anything is jammed courtesy of signal jammers from Stark Labs. So, you'll have to thank yourself for that. They implemented them after we saw they worked on telepaths. It's how we were able to contain Maximus Psycho, he was one of your guys, right Ms. Amaquelin?" Faraday asked as they went through a series of security measures.

Diana felt uneasy at the mention of him, "Yes, Maximus Psycho was certainly very dangerous. He's one I'm glad is still locked up here."

"We have the best security and superhuman containment systems in the world. Escape is nigh impossible; you truly have nothing to worry about," Faraday reassured.

"You guys really keep my pockets full, with all the tech you're buying from Stark Labs," Victor commented with a smirk.

"Director Fury believes in showing support in the ways that benefit both sides, it fosters a team mentality," Faraday answered, "Speaking of which, I have to mention that I am a huge fan of your early work Ms. Amaquelin. Those old MSA comics inspired me to join SHIELD. I jumped at the chance to get this position so I could finally have the pleasure to meet you."

Diana was flattered by Faraday's geeking out over her, "Oh, well thank you, Agent."

"I also collect those old MSA Trading Cards. I was almost able to get a full vintage set. Only missed out on one that got discontinued. It'd mean a lot if you could sign my card of you," Faraday requested with a goofy grin, despite his age, the man still seemed starstruck working alongside Diana.

Diana snickered, "Alright, once we get out of here, I'll sign it. I'm intrigued to see what reference they used for the cards. I had my fair share of different outfits back then."

"It was the one with the star-spangled bathing suit and the eagle brasserie, your "Prototype Costume", they call it on the card," Faraday answered sheepishly.

"Okay, you're gonna have to show these to me, Phil," Victor interjected, his interests piqued.

Blush crept across Diana's face before she playfully punched Victor in the shoulder, making a loud clang upon contact with his armored body.

After going through a myriad of other security measures amidst this whole conversation, the three of them arrived at a large elevator. Faraday scanned a key card against a wall panel, and the elevator doors opened, all three then walked inside as they began their descent to the real prison underwater beneath the Raft, "All the containment cells are below. Anyone specific you want to check on, or do you want to look at every single one?"

Victor thought for a second before answering, "Take us to the Toymandarin."

Faraday nodded and hit a button to send them to one of the lowest floors. The elevator et out a droning hum before slowly gliding down the rails of the shaft. Any natural light faded as the elevator plunged beneath the sea into the murky depths where the prisoners lie.

Diana had never heard of this Toymandarin before, "I'm sorry, the who?"

"His name is Shu Winwu, Diana. You could call him my nemesis," Victor began to explain, his expression now a thousand-yard stare. "I don't like talking about him."

Faraday piped in to explain the rest, "Winwu's originally from China, he's the wielder of ten magical rings that let him interface with any machinery telepathically along with a few other benefits if he's directly wearing them. And that's any machine, no matter how simple or complicated. Something so trivial as a wheel and axle or a spring could be under his control if he sent one of his rings onto it. He came to the States and started wreaking havoc about four years ago. It didn't help he was also a genius engineer who could make more toy-themed weapons of mass destruction."

Diana processed the information, "So does that mean he…?"

"Yes, he managed to get one of his rings on me. And for weeks, he'd puppet me around like his own personal action figure. It was a living hell. That sadistic little bastard treated me like I was nothing but a piece of property, a damn toy," Stark said bitterly as he clenched his fists.

Diana placed a hand on Stark's shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. But, if he doesn't have any powers without his rings, why is he here? Wouldn't he be better suited at the Iron Vault? All of your other foes are there."

"Between you and me, Princess, I don't trust the guys running that place," Victor answered, "Those private places are full of corruption and shoddy security. At least I know if he's here, he's staying here."

"As for the rings, we keep them in a remote location far enough away so that Winwu can't recall them to his person," Faraday added.

Eventually, they reached the desired floor which contained the Toymandarin among a few other villains. The elevators door opened with a hiss revealing a large square room. The walls were lined with cells with plate glass walls separating them from the prisoners. And at the opening of the elevator was someone else to greet them.

Right outside the elevator of the cell block stood an iron giant taller than the door. It was a suit of armor not too dissimilar, but less advanced than Stark. It was grey and blue with some red and white detailing, glowing red eyes, and it sounded like it had the motor of a car. The entire mech seemed to be built from various car parts, including a radio antenna sticking out from the right shoulder. The faceplate of the helmet opened to reveal an older black man. His face was grizzled, but it radiated warmth. "Hey Vic, surprised to see me?" the man asked in a southern drawl.

"Rhodey! What the hell are you doing here, I haven't heard from you in months," Victor called out as he stepped out of the elevator to greet the man in the bulky mech. The two armored men clashed fists in a steel fist bump, followed by a series of coordinated actions akin to some longtime known secret handshake.

"Colonel Patrick Rhodes volunteered himself and the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. to our program as a part time guard. S.H.I.E.L.D. registered superheroes are chosen for guarding Belle Raft as apart of our extra security," Faraday explained for them.

Rhodes laughed, joyed to see his friend again, "I'm just happy to do my part. Besides, who better than to keep Toymandarin in check than your old sidekick?" He then noticed Diana step out of the elevator, "Howdy Princess, good to see you. Haven't see you since Fate's funeral."

Diana smiled in spite of herself at the mention of Erik, "It's good to see you to, Colonel. How are your kids doing?"

"Courtney's doing great, she's going to MIT next fall. We're so proud of her. She's got a heart that burns like a star. Mike is doing great too," Pat gushed as he talked about his kids. He had once just been a mechanic who worked for the Starks after leaving the Air Force. He was a very close friend to Victor growing up. Once Victor got into his accident and became the Cyberman, Rhodes had used his mechanical expertise to build a suit of his own. And now he was working for the government again, giving S.H.I.E.L.D. a Cyberman of their own.

Faraday checked his watch and tapped it, "Let's get a move on, people. Take us to Winwu, Colonel."

"Yeah, right this way, guys," Rhodes said pulling his faceplate back down and guiding them over to one of the cells at the back of the block.

As they walked past the other cells, prisoners within clamored and jeered at Diana and Victor. All were clad in orange jumpsuits; and distinctly, they were all wearing large black collars.

Diana looked to Faraday in confusion, "What's with the collars, they seem unwieldly heavy."

"Metamutant Dampening Collars, courtesy of Trask Industries. They provide a genetic block on superpowers, helps keep them in line. Those have been Fury's favorite additions to the prison," Faraday answered.

Unsure her true feelings on the use of such technology, Diana kept quiet and advanced on with the rest until the reached the back of the cell block. Her feelings would fully sour upon seeing something else.

Within a cell with just a bed, a desk, a toilet, and a few books was to Diana's horror: a fifteen-year-old Chinese boy. He didn't have a dampening collar, but he wore an orange jumpsuit all the same. There was some humor in the fact the one who's namesake involved the word "Mandarin" was wearing orange. He sat up from the bed, his eyes widened at the sight of Diana, Phil, and Victor. A deranged smile stretched across his face like a glob of silly putty.

"Well, if it isn't Barbie, Ken, and oh boy! My favorite action figure has returned to me! The Transformer was starting to bore me." The Toymandarin spoke in a creepy, breathy voice full of ominous giddiness. He didn't even seem to open his mouth, his words just passed through his eerie grin.

Diana's smile faded as she looked at Stark, Rhodes, and Faraday in outrage, "Why is there a young boy in a place like this?!"

"Look Princess, I know this looks bad, but this punk deserves to be here," Victor said trying to place a hand on her shoulder.

Diana pushed his hand aside. She was absolutely livid at the sight of seeing someone so young in Belle Raft, "Stark, that is a child!"

"Winwu posed an international security threat, and he was tried as an adult based on his mental capacity," Faraday explained trying to calm Diana down.

"Four years, isn't that what you said? This poor boy was ELEVEN when you sent him here," Diana shouted at the both of them.

"Ooh…Barbie is getting angry. This is the most fun I've had in a while!" Winwu started clapping his hands together.

Diana looked at the boy in the cell, placing her hand on the glass, "Oh dear boy, what has this place done to you? You had so much more potential for the world than this." She turned back around to face the three of them, "This boy needs psychiatric help! This place has degraded his mind to see everything as nothing but toys!"

"Look, Diana. I'm not gonna argue that this place ain't good, but he's too dangerous to put him anywhere else. If he gets his hands on the rings, we're in for hell," Rhodes interjected.

Diana sneered at Rhodes, "Was there no hope for any rehabilitation for him? Or was he supposed to just rot here for the rest of his life?! What have you done as his guard to try and make him better?"

"I told you what he did to me! There's no redemption for someone who'll torture someone like that with no remorse," Victor shouted back.

The Toymandarin stared at Victor as he always has, like a new toy on Christmas. "Oh, my favorite action figure, I would love to play with you again. You've gotten so much shinier last I saw you." He was hyper-focused on getting his toy back.

"Look at him Stark, this is a sick child who doesn't understand the world around him!" Diana yelled exasperated at Stark's visible stubbornness. "We owe it to the next generation to protect them, to help them grow into something greater than themselves."

Meanwhile, as all the four above continued to argue, sat someone else in their cell in the block below them. It was a Pakistani woman of about 22 sitting alone with a bulky collar around her neck. This was Kamala Zeul, she was a polymorph, having the ability to shapeshift, but mainly utilized it to grow her body to massive proportions. But these abilities were not from some X-Gene, but from other ancient ancestry; that ancestry being Inhuman Amazon.

She was once a superfan of sorts of the LMI, that of Green Marvel and Wonder Crystal in particular. But one day, while experimenting on Terrigen crystals during a college internship with the Supreme Idea Mechanics in Advanced Neurotechnology, she set them off, triggering her own latent DNA a few years late after the first wave of Terrigenesis that triggered the return of the Wonder Crystal.

At first, Kamala tried to work with Diana as a sidekick of sorts, but she had yet to fully control her powers, and that partnership hardly came to fruition. She was then, during a battle, placed under the control of the psychotic telepath, Maximus Psycho. A giant was set loose on a mindless rampage through the streets of Jersey City, and the Wonder Crystal had to stop her and Psycho. Both of them ended up in Belle Raft.

Diana had once promised Kamala she would make sure to get her out, to make sure she got justice for what happened to her. She promised to bring her to Themyscrattilan to train her with her powers, but a week after all that happened, Ghanoseid attacked. With the invasion of the Titans of Apokolips and the death of the Fatal Compass, Kamala's problems slipped Diana's mind. And the Wonder Crystal unintentionally abandoned her.

And now, Kamala could hear Diana's tirade to Faraday, Stark, and Rhodes through the air vents. She recognized Diana's voice in a heartbeat. She heard her say all things about Toymandarin that she should have been saying about her, the hypocrisy of it all enraged her. Her sullen look turned to fury. She wanted to grow 30 feet tall, break through the ceiling and crush Diana, make her pay for forgetting about her, but she couldn't; not with the stupid collar on.

Then, to Kamala's surprise, she heard another noise. It was a bird cawing. There was a bird cawing in her cell. Her eyes darted around before she saw it sitting on her dinky, little desk. It was a raven, blue feathers with golden eyes, "Where did it come from?" she thought. It wasn't anything like she'd ever seen, and in its beak was a small, silver ring. And in the blink of her eyes, the bird disappeared into the shadows of her cell, leaving the ring behind.

Kamala was wary to take the ring, but she felt it calling to her. She grabbed it off her desk and slowly slipped it on her finger. She felt a surge of energy flow through her as if a whole new world was open to her now. It was as if she could see the inner workings of every electronic device around her, including her collar. Kamala raised her hand to the collar around her neck. She pressed the ring against it, and with a twinge of force, the collar popped open, and it slid off her neck.

Kamala breathed heavily, and instinctively, she rubbed her neck after around 7 months of it encased in that thing. She felt her body get her powers back. Everything had felt so tight before, like being vacuum sealed in your own body. But now, she had full access to her potential.

The woman looked down at her hands, she clenched them into fists, and they grew to the size of hay bales, the ring sliding off her finger into her closed palm. She smiled before looking up at the ceiling, the one who forgot her was just 10 feet above her. And with a rather corny word, she would be there.

She called out a word to help herself grow. Captain Gamma had "SHAHULK", Kamala Zeul had "EMBIGGEN!"

Chapter 9: Savior from the Depths

The ground beneath Diana and the others began to shake. An alarm inside Rhodes' helmet began to blare, "Hey Faraday, there's a collar malfunction downstairs. Somebody's got their superpowers back," he called out.

Winwu heard all this and took a few steps back, crouching down behind his bed, "She's heeeere," he said ominously.

Victor turned to the cell, slamming his fist against the glass, "Who's here Toymandarin!? What did you do?!"

Winwu giggled sinisterly, "I didn't do anything, action figure. It was a pen pal of mine, it's always nice to have friends."

Diana shot a glare at Faraday, "Who else do you have locked up here?"

"The only one who could do this kind of structural damage so fast is…Ms. Gigantic," Faraday answered before a massive fist burst through the floor, grabbing the agent. The floor shook as the rest of Kamala emerged from the cell block beneath them. Glass walls shattered and concrete crumbled as the structural integrity of the prison plummeted.

Kamala rose from the massive hole she made through the floor. She stood twenty feet tall between the floor below and the ceiling above. But her body wasn't exactly proportional, her arms were oversized compared to the rest of her already very large body. Her legs were still in her cell below them, her foot busting through the glass wall of her cell. Her hair was covered in concrete dust, and the prison jumpsuit was extremely torn and stretched, barely even containing the woman wearing it. She stared down at Diana and grimaced, "Hi Ms. Wonder Crystal, remember me!?"

Diana's face fell as she looked up at Kamala. She recognized her face, and remembered everything that happened to her, and what she was supposed to do. This was it, that forgotten sin that was eating at her, here to enact vengeance for her failures. She looked up to see Agent Faraday squirming in the giantess' grip. She had to make sure she didn't crush him, "Kamala, I am so sorry, I-"

"You what? Forgot about me, left me to rot in this place for seven months!?" Kamala stretched out her arm and threw a powerful punch against the Amazon.

Diana was sent flying and crashed against the stone wall between other cells in the block. The prisoners within yelled and cheered out to Kamala as she gave Wonder Crystal what for. All the while, alarms blared throughout the prison. The destruction caused by Kamala's growth spurt led to a few other prisoners on the lower level to riot and run rampant.

Victor and Rhodes looked at Ms. Gigantic and then at each other, "You go high, I'll go low," Stark suggested.

"Same as always Vic," Rhodes responded before aiming his arm up at Gigantic and the fist of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. rocketed off the arm and punched her in the face. The fist harmlessly bounced off Kamala's rubbery skin. "Okay, this ain't good," Rhodes muttered to himself as he called the rocket fist back onto his mech.

Kamala didn't even acknowledge Rhodes trying to attack her, she was tunnel visioned on Diana. "SHIELD called me a terrorist for what Psycho made me do, I was an "enemy of the state", I never even got a trial. You were supposed to defend me! You were supposed to get me justice! My life was in your hands, and you abandoned me!" She went to throw Faraday at Diana, but her arm was ensnared by a lasso made of water, and forced down as it froze into ice.

Diana strained herself as she tried to pull Kamala's arm down to let Agent Faraday go, "Kamala, I'm sorry. I failed you. But this has to stop. People are going to get hurt from this. I don't want to fight you."

Kamala's expression softened as she got an apology. She opened her hand and dropped Faraday to the ground. "I just wanted to be like you. But never meet your heroes, I guess."

"Just shrink back down, and we can work out something to get you out of here. You deserve a normal life," Diana pleaded, walking closer to Kamala.

Kamala took a deep breath and began to slowly shrink back down to size, but as she did, the sharp bang of a pistol sounded off before three glowing blue pellets struck her in the chest.

The shooter was Faraday, brandishing some kind of high-tech tranquilizer pistol. Like the rocket fist, they bounced off Kamala's body like pebbles. But she became enraged at the notion of being betrayed again. She began to grow even larger than before; Kamala was now even taller than the combined heights of the two cell blocks combined, hunching under the higher ceiling. Her arms stretched and expanded further as her proportions seemed more akin to some kind of amorphous monster than a person. Shapeshifting was a terrifying ability when combined with unbridled hate and rage.

"Agent Faraday, why?!" Diana shouted back as panic spread over her face.

"That wasn't meant to hurt her. It was just a tranquilizer, I only wanted to knock her out," Faraday answered as he looked around to see Ms. Gigantic encompassing most of the cell block. He kept firing at the ever-growing woman, but at this point it was doing more harm than good as the bullets ricocheted off her body and peppered the walls.

"Oh, and that turned out to be such a genius idea!" Diana snapped back.

Diana tried desperately to hold Kamala down with her ice lasso, but that was also quite fruitless. She transmuted the ice back into water and called it back to her canteen. If she didn't try anything drastic soon, Ms. Gigantic would grow too large for Belle Raft to contain. She'd make the entire thing burst, drowning the hundreds imprisoned here.

Kamala stretched and expanded her arms and careened them towards Diana to crush her and Faraday. Her hands were the size of garage doors, and they were about to smash them like a human panini.

Faraday was reasonably afraid of being squished and braced for impact, but before that could be the case, Diana held her arms out and caught them. She pulled forth the earth lying deep within her body, and her skin took on a deep blue crystalline structure. She became hard as diamond and stopped the hands dead in her tracks. She wasn't called the Wonder Crystal for nothing. Her body was quite literally made of crystal; Terrigen, the crystal which awakened the powers of her fellow Inhuman Amazons, to be specific.

Curiously, this was an ability unseen from either of Diana Amaquelin's original counterparts. Diana of Themyscira was born from clay, and yet she displayed no such abilities centering around her sedimental anatomy, whereas Crystal of the Inhumans had hardly ever displayed any major control over geodes in this manner. This development was quite anomalous upon my first viewing.

Although, a similar fate to this was done upon to Crystal Amaquelin by Thanos via the Reality Stone, turning Diana's marvelous half into a crystalline statue. Perhaps the Amalgamation spell took that curse placed upon her and turned it into a boon. It is intriguing how the mystical forces of Order and Chaos made sense of the Amalgam. As I have observed this blossoming universe's growth, developments like this make my work quite entertaining. This new universe had to generate trillions of new lives by taking halves of two other people, and through chaotic intuition, create beings who still functioned. Little quirks like this, emerging from the results, were bound to happen.

Kamala kept trying to force her hands together to squish the two, but Diana was too strong.

"Get out of here and go get help. I'll hold her off," Diana commanded with a slight echo in her voice, the sound resonating through her crystal body.

Agent Faraday gave a brief salute, "Yes ma'am," before rolling past the hands and running to the elevator. He quickly scrambled inside and rose topside to call for backup.

Diana stared up at Kamala with regret, she could see the rage burning behind her eyes. "I'm sorry for forgetting you. The world moved on and left you behind. You didn't deserve that, but I have to stop you." Diana began to expel fire from her hands, burning Kamala's and causing her to yank them away from Diana. The Wonder Crystal raised her flaming hands and clashed them together at the bracelets on her wrists to send a heat wave at Ms. Gigantic.

Amidst the chaos, Ms. Gigantic had dropped the ring she used to break her collar. It rolled across the cell block floor ever closer and closer to the Toymandarin's cell. Winwu stared at it with eyes full of yearning, "Yes, yes, my precious returns to me!" He held out his open hand as it gravitated towards him. It stopped against the glass wall, but gradually dragged itself up and up to the few round holes which served as ventilation at the top of the barrier. The ring slipped through and onto Winwu's finger.

The Toymandarin laughed giddily as he felt the powers of the ring return to him, "Hello old friend, how sad to see you all alone today. But don't worry, we'll be reunited with your brothers and sisters soon." He looked to the glass barrier and held out his ring, the magic within interfaced with the electronic locks in the walls, and the glass slid open to release Winwu into the world.

Rhodes turned around to see the Toymandarin's cell door open. He raised his arm and brandished a sonic cannon mounted to it, "Drop the ring and get back in there, short stack."

Winwu stared at Rhodes with a blank smile, "Come and get it yourself, Transformer."

Rhodes unleashed the cannon on Winwu, sending a concussive, high pitched, sound blast at the boy. Toymandarin rolled out of the way and grabbed a book off his desk. He began to rip a series of pages out of the book and started rapidly folding them into little paper airplanes.

"Try these on for size," He challenged to Rhodes before he held the ring to his crafts and imbued the paper airplanes with some sort of mystic energy. The planes pulsed with power, shaking, and jittering in the Toymandarin's hand. Rhodes went to smack away the paper airplanes, but not before shot off from Winwu's hand and flew into Rhodes' armor. The paper planes pierced into the thick, metal hull.

Rhodes piloted the mech back, plucking the paper airplanes out of his armor, "Goddamn it, I'm gonna lay you out, you little punk!" He threw a punch into the wall, getting the hand stuck. Winwu jumped onto the arm of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. and ran up it to reach the shoulder. He then pulled off his ring and placed it over the antenna. With a sputter of the engine, the armor shut down. Rhodes struggled and flailed inside the armor to try and wrestle control back, but no avail. He was locked in.

Winwu laughed maniacally, "Well, you're not my favorite action figure, but you shall suffice for now." He grabbed the antenna and the outer shell of the armor began to shift, providing a set of handles on the back for Winwu to hold onto.

"Let me outta here you little creep," Rhodes shouted from inside the armor, but it was too muffled to hear.

Victor flew back up through the hole, brushing dust off the chest plate of his armor, "Everything down there's contained. Alright Rhodey, let's take care of this stretchy freak." He then looked at the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. armor standing still in the Toymandarin's cell, he grew worried, "Rhodey…where's the kid?"

Winwu poked his head out from behind the head of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. armor, "Sorry Action Figure, but the Transformer is mine. A fine addition to my collection."

Victor vision went red and he instinctively fired his repulsor cannon at the boy, "Get off my Rhodey!"

Toymandarin jerked the antenna around on the mech like a joystick for a video game controller, and the armor raised up its arm to block the blast, "Ooh, this one will be fun to use." He reached into the wiring between the helmet and torso and began fiddling with the circuitry to operate it from the outside. And like the great Sukapon, the Toymandarin initiated a joyful mech fight.

Cyberman tapped the side of his half-mask, and it mirrored over the other half of his face to provide full head protection. He jetted forward to clash fists with the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. While the Toymandarin commanded a much larger suit of armor, Stark was faster, and therefore easier to maneuver in such a confined space. Stark also had a better array of weapons within his body, but given they were in a pressurized underwater chamber, using missiles or anything stronger than his basic repulsors would be unwise. After dodging a heavy-handed haymaker from the diminutive delinquent, Cyberman fired a blast from beneath the bulky brute into its abdomen.

The Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. then threw a powerful uppercut and sent Cyberman up through the ceiling. The mech of immense strength was able to force Stark's head through the cell block above them. Toymandarin aimed the sonic cannon up towards the ceiling and blasted Cyberman. Stark heard the cannon charge up and fired his repulsor down. The two pulses collided and caused a loud explosion.

The cell block rocked from the blast. Cracks in the walls grew until they burst, and water started flowing in from outside. Diana and Kamala stopped fighting to stare in panic. The prisoners still in their cells rioted and panicked as water began filling the cell block. In about 10 minutes, the whole cell would be flooded. Stark fell back down to through the ceiling and looked in shock at what happened. He looked at Toymandarin, raising his arm to prime a missile stored within, "What did you do?!"

"Not me, we, my Action Figure. This was a team effort. I'm going to go now, let you clean all this up," Toymandarin said fiddling with the controls on the back of the mech, "Oh, and you can have your guy back. I have no use for him." With a few yanks of the wires and jiggles of the ring on the antenna, the armor opened up and Rhodey shot out of it like a gumball from a gumball machine. He was wearing a white shirt with red stripes and a set of metal braces on his legs. Stark ran over to pick up his friend.

The boy removed the ring from the antenna and hopped into the cockpit of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. The armor closed back up as Toymandarin attached his ring to the control panel inside, the engine of the armor revving like a car. He gleefully hummed the Transformers "Robots In Disguise" motif as he booted the suit up, "Hey Stretch Armstrong, wanna come with? We couldn't have done this without you, so we owe you one," the boy called out, his voice modulated from the speaker in the armor.

Kamala shrank back to normal size. She looked at Diana, then at Victor and Rhodes. Anything was better than here. She ran over to Toymandarin in the mech. Victor tried to stand in her way, but she simply enlarged her hand to the size of a large chair and slapped him and Rhodes away.

Diana, breathing heavily and staggering to stand after exchanging a series of increasingly heavy blow. She reached her hand out to Kamala, "Please don't do this. We can still help you, it's not too late!"

Kamala looked back at Diana, and then she climbed onto the back of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E., "It was too late a long time ago."

"We're going through some water to get out of here, you're going to want to hold your breath," Toymandarin advised before flipping a few switches inside the control panel and looking up to the ceiling. Kamala wrapped her hand around the handles on the back of the armor took a deep breath. She visibly inflated her lungs from within her chest and gave Toymandarin a thumbs up. And with further engine revving, the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. took flight and rocketed through the multiple floors leading up to the surface, creating multiple holes through the ceilings until they broke through the single floor atop the Raft. This aerial escape created another hole for water to enter the cell block. There was now about 5 minutes until the cell block fully flooded.

Stark looked at the holes on the sides of the cell block walls, and the hole above them all overflowing with water. He acted quickly and grabbed Rhodey and flew him out of there. Once Stark was out of vicinity of the prison's signal jammers, he regained access to his internal AI, and his communications. "GRID, send out a distress call to anyone who can get here less than 3 minutes, doesn't matter who, just get me goddamn anyone!" He yelled frantically into his helmet.

Diana was in contrast much more reactive. Her crystal form receded back within her so she could divert all her focus into forcing the water out of the prison. She first used the water that was already there to fill and freeze over the hole first made by Ms. Gigantic escaping, and then froze the holes in the walls. It'd be a temporary fix for the lower level, but it was a Band-Aid on a broken leg.

Diana then threw herself underneath the cascade from above and raised her hands up. She was going to try and force the waterfall to fall up. Was this action likely extremely futile? Yes, but she had to try. Lives were on the line, the lives of those who once posed major threats to the world, but lives still worth saving, nonetheless. The weight of a waterfall was now quite literally on her shoulders, at least her physical state finally matched her mental state in terms of pressure.

The endless flow of ocean into the prison would not be forced out by Diana's hydrokinesis, merely contained. It was as if Wonder Crystal was carrying a massive bowl of water, except the bowl was invisible, and the bowl kept getting larger and larger. Eventually there would be too much for Diana to hold back, and the prisoners would succumb to the seas. As she felt her resolve slowly fading, her ice patches were starting to weaken as well. All seemed lost. Diana looked out to all of those still in their cells, panicking, pleading to get out, and she felt helpless to save them, "I'm sorry."

Then with a miracle, the waters began to slowly recede. Where the water was once piled up in the cell block, a strange array of yellow splotches took their place. It seemed even more of these weird objects were thrust into the cell block through the holes and began absorbing the water. They were sea sponges. The water coming from above slowed from a downpour to a stream, to a drizzle, to a trickle, and then to a few drops. Diana was able to freeze the remaining water she was holding into a large, round, ball of ice, dropping it with a heavy sigh of relief, the ice shattering into a large pile of snow. She looked above to see a sheet of ice covering the hole leading from the ocean, but it wasn't the translucent blue she was used to seeing, it was more of a purple.

From the holes from the wall came two men. One was clad in purple scale armor, a shark tooth necklace, and the rest of the suit resembled a killer whale, dorsal fin on the back and blowhole on the helmet in all. The other man seemed much younger, covered head to toe in bright blue armor with fins on the forearms and legs. The helmet had no marine life basis, but shining purple eyes glowed through it. The younger man turned around and fired a blast from his hand, freezing the hole over with another patch of violet ice. It seemed a lot stronger than whatever Diana could conjure.

The older man removed his whale-themed helmet to reveal T'Kurri, King of Wakantlantis, known to the rest of the world as the Black Orca. He had a full beard and dreadlocks underneath the helmet, how it all fit under there was comical to imagine. Perhaps something to do with the advanced technology of Wakantlantis from their access to Vibranium.

Diana smiled at seeing a familiar face, "King T'Kurri, it's been too long, old friend. It's a blessing to see you. I suspect these sponges are yours?"

T'Kurri laughed as he brushed the hair out of his eyes, "The feeling is mutual, Princess Diana. And yes, we received your distress call and came as fast as we could. The sponges were Garth's idea," he explained patting the younger soldier on the back. He spoke in a distinctly African accent, T'Kurri carried himself with a great degree of warmth and charisma befitting of a king, extending pleasantries towards a fellow royal in Diana.

The other one, now known as Garth, then removed his helmet to show a young man with much more clean-cut hair, pale blue skin, a sharp chin, and a set of gills around his neck. "It's an honor and a privilege to meet you, your Highness. I am Sir Garth Drake, the Icelad," the young man introduced cordially. He bowed in the presence of Diana.

"Likewise, Sir Drake, your quick thinking saved many lives. I thank you," Diana said flattered, but clearly physically and emotionally drained. Normally she'd respond to such a formal display with a curtsy to humor them, but she was exhausted after all she'd been through. Diana just wanted to get out of here.

Then from the elevator that was somehow still operable after all that's happened came a small army of SHIELD Agents in wetsuits and oxygen tanks. They swarmed the various cells in the block to release the prisoners inside and bring them back above the surface.

While the agents worked, they seemed to ignore Diana and the Wakantlanteans. The three of them then took the elevator back to the top floor of Belle Raft. Icelad was guiding Wonder Crystal out of the main facility himself, providing the princess someone to lean on. She greatly appreciated his chivalry at the current moment.

Once they got outside, Stark and Faraday were waiting outside for them, Rhodes was gone, taken by some agents for medical attention. "Well, if it isn't Black Orca? You get hitched and then you don't return my calls for 3 months," Stark taunted, "Where is Stormbird right now?" Victor seemed to hold a degree of bitterness towards T'Kurri specifically.

T'Kurri had put his mask back on since they left the elevator, so his expression was unreadable to Victor. "Kendra sends her regards; I have been very busy managing the 70% of the world you don't bother to cover. Politics is a lengthy operation that requires great focus. My apologies for not being at your beck and call," he responded in a tone lacking the warmth of before. When amongst the others, T'Kurri became strictly business.

Victor wanted to make a snappy retort, but realized T'Kurri made a fair point. "Right, so whatever. Glad you got my call an got here in time."

"Actually, I didn't get your call," T'Kurri interjected.

"Once I got out of there, I called Director Fury, and she sent in reinforcements and called the King," Faraday answered.

"Oh, so you pick up her calls no problem, but you just hit ignore on your little conch shell whenever you see my name," Stark snapped at T'Kurri.

"One does not simply ignore the One-Eyed Wall, Stark. I have my priorities of course," T'Kurri replied coolly.

Diana stood up straight from Garth's shoulder, shaking the young knight's hand before joining the others, "I have a lot to exchange with Fury next time we meet. And after what I've seen today, they might not all be words," Diana said, pounding her fists together.

Faraday tried to change the subject, "The real question is to figure out how Ms. Gigantic could break her power dampener. Or how Toymandarin got the ring."

"The little punk mentioned something about having a pen pal. Don't tell me that's a thing at Belle Raft, is it?" Stark asked.

Faraday was a little confused, "No, I don't believe so. Very little communication gets in or out to the prisoners."

"I also came to relay similar news. The Sonic Manta managed to escape from his cell in Wakantlantis just last week. After failing to find him in the seas, I've come to extend a request for your assistance in recapturing him," T'Kurri added.

Diana was delighted at the thought, "If this means you'll be back with the League for the time being, we'd happily take you back. It'd also be good to have Kendra back on active duty. We certainly have our hands full and could use the extra help."

Garth looked to T'Kurri and put his helmet back on, "Shall I return to the kingdom and let them know of your leave of absence, your Highness?"

"Yes, tell the people I am on a diplomatic excursion and arrange for the Queen's return to the surface world. I have already talked this over with her, and she agreed to return in search for the Manta. She has been homesick to say the least," T'Kurri explained looking down at the wedding ring on his finger. "As for interim leadership, Vl'Kabi shall lead in my stead under advisement of the elders. Understood?"

"Are you sure about leaving the kingdom, Your Highness? We are still in a vulnerable state," the squire questioned. While Vl'Kabi was adept at advising the king, putting him in full control seemed like a rash decision to the Icelad.

"I trust my advisor, and for the time being, my duties to the surface world supersede what I am needed before below," the Black Orca explained briefly, "Now go. They are waiting for you, Garth."

Garth saluted, "Yes, my liege! I shall leave right away." Despite this, he still carried some unease at the decision.

T'Kurri smiled and pat his sidekick on the shoulder, "Good lad, safe travels home."

Garth hesitantly nodded and leapt into the seas. He formed a platform made of ice and landed on it. He then started sliding across it, forming a bridge of ice underneath his feet as he traversed the seas. Within about a minute, the Icelad had faded into the waves, out of sight.

Chapter 10: Rising Tensions

"Well, I think it's safe to assume that this has something to do with Loxxi's little legion he's throwing together. If he wants to fight the League, he'd want to get people with experience fighting each of us," Victor pondered as he looked off to the horizon, "That with Loxxi tossing the Adth Metal onto Mannheim makes me think he's working with a guy with magic. How else could he get the ring into the prison?"

"Now would be a good time to still have Fate. Losing him has made the world very vulnerable," T'Kurri said with a sigh. "A replacement for the role he played on the team would be wise."

"We might have Jessica coming back in the next few days," Victor replied with a grumble. He didn't seem all too pleased at that, "And the kid's got a fair share of knowledge on the stuff too. We can manage."

"Fatal Compass provided a level of expertise and training in the mystic arts that the League currently lacks. Besides, having more people around to lighten the burden of the world on your shoulders may provide beneficial," T'Kurri advised wisely.

Victor scoffed, "Not everybody can take that weight, and I can't afford to have anyone else crushed."

"That's not your sole responsibility, Stark. It never has been. The burden of protecting the world falls upon us all. You must learn to put your faith in others," T'Kurri said placing his hand on Stark's shoulder. "Do you not remember? You were the first person we put our faith in to join the team after it formed."

Diana stared at the heavily damaged prison beneath, "Agent Faraday, what's going to happen to the rest of the inmates in there. This place can't be safe for containment anymore."

"Fury is currently looking into other options, but she is not happy about any of this. We'll put as many as we can in the Iron Vault, but some of them are too high of a security risk. I don't suppose we can use that fancy projector Thunderman's got to throw the rest in that pocket dimension of his?" Faraday asked.

Diana's expression turned sour again, "Out of the question. The Silent Zone is reserved only for planetary threats. We can't use it so flippantly," she snapped. After what happened with Kamala, Diana did not want anyone else being so carelessly cast aside. "Your whole system needs a major overhaul, Agent. I'd like to know exactly how much has slipped under the League's radar. Tell me, how many of these people actually got a fair trial? Was justice truly served, or is Fury using these people for something else?" She stared daggers into Agent Faraday. Diana was not messing around when it came to protecting the Inhuman Amazons, or any other superhumans at this point.

Faraday was intimidated by Wonder Crystal, "Look Ms. Amaquelin, your anger isn't with me. I'm just the middleman, my job here is to help you. I'll set up a meeting with Director Fury so you can voice your concerns. I want the same things you do. I'll make sure everything is properly addressed through the correct channels on my end so you can do things your way," he assured professionally. Faraday truly seemed to have the best intentions working with the League regardless of everything else SHIELD was doing above and around him.

Diana took a deep breath and shook Faraday's hand, "Thank you Agent Faraday. Fulfill your promise, and I'll make sure all the current surviving members of the MSA will sign your cards," she offered with an exhausted half-smile.

"I'll do my best," Faraday said with a nod, "Anyway, I should be back inside, I'm leading evacuation."

"You sure you don't need our help, Faraday?" Stark called out.

"We're good, we have carriers on the way for bringing the prisoners back to dry land," Faraday declined. "And to assuage your worries, Ms. Amaquelin, Fury called the Sergeant too, he'll be assisting transport to the Iron Vault over the next few days." After his explanation, he disappeared into the crowd of agents back inside the prison.

"Alright, best of luck, Agent," Diana said with a heavy sigh. She rejoined Victor and T'Kurri and groaned in exhaustion.

"Well, I am absolutely wiped out. I don't know about you, but I could use a drink," Victor suggested with a smirk, trying to brush past everything that just happened.

"Hold on a second Stark, we're not going to ignore what went on in this prison. Any superpowered people just tossed aside in here, no trial, even kids? I thought we were supposed to be fighting for truth, justice, and a better tomorrow," Diana said, shooting Stark a glare.

Victor was set aback, but held his composure, "Those were Thor's ideas, but something that simple never works. You may not like it because some of them are yours, but I don't relish it either. These guys have been popping up and wreaking havoc constantly since we all took center stage. Neither S.H.I.E.L.D. nor the UN would let us play ball if it wasn't by their rules."

"I don't like the safety risks this place poses to those held within. The ocean is no place to keep a human life. But otherwise, I see where you are coming from," the Orca said with a nod. As a king, he had to make many tough decisions, imprisoning threats to his kingdom were many of them.

Diana looked to T'Kurri in shock, "I can believe the leaders of the world can let things like this happen. But we are meant to be a standard above them."

"Man fears God, Diana. They always have. The only reason they believe in him is because of what he provides. Above all else, we provide security. It is our duty to protect this world and keep it from falling to madness," Victor asserted. "You brought me on this team because the Martian couldn't hack it. You needed somebody to run logistics, work with the government, and pay for everything the League needs to function. I do my job, I pray for the day I no longer have to, but until then, I protect the world. So, excuse me, Princess! Your fantasy for what the world should be isn't real."

"And what about Kamala? She was a victim of mind control, she needed protection from the systems you enforced," Diana snapped, her fist starting to heat up, igniting in a small flame, ready to strike Victor. "How can you not have any compassion or sympathy for what she's been through?"

"I followed due process, S.H.I.E.L.D. viewed Ms. Gigantic as a threat to national security because of her potential strength. And based on today, she is too strong to be running around playing hero with no training," Victor explained firmly. "And don't try to make me the bad guy in this. There are too many people for me to keep track of every case. Besides, you're the one who forgot to get her off." It was at this point that Stark flipped the right side of his helmet back over his face. Man did indeed fear God, and he wanted to be prepared in case this exchange was going to incite her wrath.

Diana's outrage only seemed to grow as she witnessed Stark's masking. The flames seemed to crawl up the rest of her arm like a twisted serpent. "That's always been your go to, Stark, hide behind your tech. It's always something else's fault, you were just the vessel to let someone else do what you wanted in the first place!" she chastised the former war profiteer. "You call it making the hard choices, but you're just a coward with no sense of integrity. You may have kept the Toymandarin here, but you've let others play with you like he did for years after." Diana tore into Victor's psyche like her flaming sword. "How can you even call yourself a man, when all you are is a shell?!"

Diana had crossed a personal line with Stark. Victor's arc reactor started to glow and pulse as if he was charging an attack, "Do you have any idea how much I have sacrificed to be a hero, to be a member of this team?! I have put more of myself into keeping the lights on and everything above board than the rest of us combined! If you really want to give me shit for what Stark Labs does, NOW, then you better tear up your ID card, Princess. What do you even know about sacrifice?" His voice echoed and reverbed from his helmet metallically as per usual. But it now carried a worn-out growl, the Cyberman was fed up with what he perceived as Diana's hypocrisy.

Wonder Crystal snapped and threw a flaming punch towards Victor's face. Cyberman quickly reacted with unleashing the unibeam from his chest, but both were caught by T'Kurri. Diana's punch was clutched in his hand, and he quenched the fire by a blast of water from the blowhole in his mask. Meanwhile the unibeam's power harmlessly dissipated into the Black Orca's Vibranium glove, planted on the cyborg's chest. The metal was designed for energy absorption and dispersion. He couldn't claim to be stronger than either of the two, but he possessed a very specific set of skills that served well for situations such as this. His powerset filled gaps in the team like an eel slipped in and filled a narrow sea cave.

The Wakantlantean king locked eyes with Diana, then turned to do the same to Stark. With just a glare, he made Stark unmask the human half of his face. "It is unwise for us to quarrel here. We as champions of this world have the most difficult set of responsibilities, the pressure can get to us sometimes, but we still have to be better." Black Orca spoke with great authority before eventually letting the both of them go. "We cannot showcase in-fighting for the world to see." Deescalating the conflict was his top priority to not sully the League's perception in the eyes of any SHIELD agents watching them.

"Diana, as much as you hate to hear it, Stark has a point. The League of Marvelous Individuals only exists how it is today because of what Stark has given us. Hard choices do have to be made sometimes, and he had to make a lot of them. Additionally, Ms. Zeul's imprisonment was your responsibility to undo. I know Fate's death weighed heavy on all of us, but that does not excuse your duty to your people. We will find her, and make sure she gets the justice she deserves for what's happened to her," the Orca assured, followed by Stark giving a cocky smirk. T'Kurri then redirected his attention to Victor.

"On the other hand, Belle Raft was a total disaster class of human rights violations that you outfitted and endorsed because you were afraid to stand up to Fury, and for many of those hard choices to did choose the easy solution. I know you think you have gone through suffering, but many have gone through much worse, and it is our duty as heroes to stand up for them. We had faith in you because of the potential we saw, Stark. And you let us, and the world down."

Victor let out a heavy sigh, he knew T'Kurri and Diana were right, and he was guilty over it. The bravado and ego he put on was gone. "What was I supposed to do, Orca? I know how screwed up Belle Raft is…well was. But SHIELD is cracking down on guys like us. That's hard to fight back against. I played ball to keep us from being next on the chopping block, and I am...so tired. I'm sorry for what this became. But I did what I had to."

"Well, what you have to do now, is rebuild. You're going to be focusing your attention solely on working to create a new facility for containing and potentially reforming the villains we defeat," Black Orca decreed with nobility.

"What? What gives you the authority to do that?" Stark asked incredulously.

"Simple, I am a king.," T'Kurri responded with a smirk behind his helmet. "And I think Thor would agree with me on this. You do owe him eighteen life debts. This'll probably count for two or three of them."

"What about the rest of my duties on the Watchtower? Who'll run monitor duty?"

"We'll rotate amongst ourselves for now, but we'll hire someone else to run things full time." Diana answered. "But don't you think you'll be doing this on your own either. I'll be working with you personally on this, so that I can assure that anyone else who goes through your system actually faces justice." She did not have any faith in Stark at the current moment.

Victor should have felt offended, but after T'Kurri's previous words, he was alright to have someone help shoulder the weight for him. "You drive a hard bargain, Princess. But alright." There was still tension there, but a respect for now that seemed better for the good of the team.

T"Kurri took pride in resolving a potential civil war before it got too out of hand, "Anyway, didn't Stark mention getting a drink?"

Diana let out a relieved sigh and smiled, "Yes of course, we should celebrate your return to active duty. Although it may prove wiser to wait for your wife to arrive for us to do so."

"I wouldn't hold your breath. Transporting a human from Wakantlantis to the surface world will be a complicated process that shall take a few more days," T'Kurri declined.

"Still, we should wait," Stark interjected, "After all, she's the person we'd actually be celebrating to come back. You're not all that special, Whale Man."

Orca remained in good spirits despite his teasing, "Just for that Stark, you are buying," he said with a snicker, "And you know how much I can handle."

Stark groaned and began tapping coordinates into the panel on his arm. "Damn Wakantlantean constitution. You still got your ID card, right?"

Orca shrugged, "Sorry Stark, crushed from the undersea pressure. Kendra's too."

"Alright, Diana, just grab him," Stark said with a roll of his eye, concluding the teleportation setup.

Diana smirked and wrapped her arm around T'Kurri's shoulder, "Welcome back, my friend." She still had a lot on her mind, but for now she was content to put that aside, even for just an hour, having a drink with friends.

And just like that, the three of them would disappear from the site of what once was Belle Raft. They would be teleported to a bar in Neo Metropolis called the Jack of Clubs. There, the three would have a brief refrain from the hustle and chaos that came with being a superhero. When one is tasked with the responsibility of protecting the entire world, the weight of it is on their shoulders. They know a looming power is upon them, and while they believe they can stop it, it shall be difficult. But with the return of Black Orca, and Stormbird on the way, the League almost feels united, but without the Fatal Compass, they aren't. The coming months will prove very trying for the League, but they shall fight through it together. But even on their own, they're never truly alone with themselves anymore, are they? I have been the Phantom Watcher, and I shall await your return to the Amalgam.

Chapter 11: The New Masters

This world lives in a constant cycle of conflict. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. The very presence of power invites an opposing power to challenge it. Whether their differences be between good and evil, order and chaos, or an arbitrary sense of tribalism. Since the dawn of this universe, or at least in the dawns of the previously existing universes, any rising source of power was responded with another power to clash against it.

When the Kree Lantern Corps were formed on Haloa, they were challenged by the Skrulls of Appellax, and they have warred for eons. When the Demonic Lords of Chaos began causing havoc throughout the universe, the Lords of Order were formed to clean up their messes and maintain peace and structure in the universe. And when evil reared its head to prey upon the good people of this world, the League of Marvelous Individuals rose to the occasion to serve as Earth's protectors.

The LMI has been active for roughly six and a half years, and throughout their tenure, the League had defended the people of Earth from invasions from rogue Asgardians, warring Gods of the Greek Pantheon, and aliens donning every color of the rainbow. But aside from the threats one would consider beyond human, the members of the League still handled threats low to the ground. For every world-ending threat, there were maybe five more costumed bank-robbers attached to some inane gimmick serving more as a general nuisance.

The prevalence of prideful criminals thinking some two-bit gadget or crazy scheme could best the godlike figures of the League was always high. One must ask where they all come from. What inspires someone to want to be a supervillain? Is it greed, wrath, pride, tragedy, perhaps a combination of them all? If one is to do evil, it is likely that evil was done onto them. Unfortunate circumstances fall upon once good people and twist them into something sinister. What we have seen with poor Kamala Zeul is evident of such.

Perhaps it's a universal compulsion to maintain balance. A world can only be good and just if there is evil and sin to overcome. All forces require opposition to prevent total consumption of the greater universe. And thus, the supervillain is a key part of the superhero ecosystem. But one must remember that everyone involved in the hero/villain dynamic is a person. A person with hopes, dreams, and the desire to make an impact on the world.

I am the Phantom Watcher, the once Spirit of Justice turned benign observer. In a change of pace, we shall be examining the so-called supervillains that populate this world, and what drives them to make the choices they have here, in the Amalgam.

Over the Atlantic Ocean, a silver and blue form rocketed across the sky. It was the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. flying towards a unknown location, operated by the dastardly diminutive, the Toymandarin. Riding on the back of the patriotic painted armor was Ms. Gigantic. The two had just escaped from the Belle Raft Superhuman Containment Facility after handily defeating two members of the LMI.

As they soared across the sky, Kamala had a death grip on the handles on the armor's back. In addition, she had stretched out and wrapped her legs around the torso, she was deathly afraid of falling off and into the treacherous ocean waves below. She didn't know where the Toymandarin was taking her, but it had to be better than prison.

Everything had happened so fast. She acted out of fiery rage, she caused a lot of destruction, denounced her idol, and became a fugitive of the law in just a few minutes. Kamala was starting to regret her decision to escape with the boy. She had basically thrown any chance at her normal life away, and it was greatly stressing her.

The wind blowing past them was very loud, but she may as well try to get some information about where her life was taking her next.

"HEY, KID, WHERE ARE WE GOING?!" Kamala shouted at the helmet of the armor, hoping it got through to Toymandarin.

Toymandarin cringed at how loud she was yelling, "Easy, Stretch! I can hear you just fine. This thing is full of speakers, I could probably hear a fish break wind from in here," his voice boomed from within.

Kamala grew embarrassed, "Oh…sorry. Where are we going? Where's a safe place for us to go," she reiterated in a still loud, but more manageable speaking voice.

"I've been receiving notes from a little birdie for the past month or so. Someone wanted my help to change the world, so they put together that little breakout and gave me a set of coordinates to fly to. Otherwise, your guess is as good as mine," Toymandarin explained with a great degree of calm.

Kamala's interest piqued at the mention of the bird, "I saw the bird too, it gave me that weird ring to break open my power dampener."

"I know, my pen pal told me you would get it. They wanted me to work with you to get out of there, and I'd say we made a wonderful team. You were amazing in there the way you almost broke the Barbie doll!" Toymandarin gushed after he explained further.

Kamala was put off by Toymandarin's quirks, but moved on to the more important piece of information, "Your friend wanted me specifically? Why? I'm not a supervillain like you, I'm not evil! No offense," she said defensively.

"Oh, none taken, Ms. Armstrong. I was just as surprised to be brought into this as you are. I wouldn't call myself a supervillain either, I just wanted to play a little game with my favorite toys," Toymandarin responded with a creepy giggle.

"The other girls in my cell block said a lot of things about you, I never thought they'd be true. What did you even do to get locked up in Belle Raft at so young?" Kamala asked.

"Well, before I used one of my rings to collect my action figure, I used one of the other ones to make this dragon toy I found really big, and I just pushed it through the streets of my hometown. Then a built an army of toy soldiers to fight the dragon. And then I built a nuclear bomb because I wanted to see a mushroom cloud up close," Toymandarin answered with a nostalgic sigh. "They tried putting me in a few juvenile halls, but I kept blowing them up with plastic explosives made of teddy bear stuffing! What about you?"

Kamala was shaken by Toymandarin's answer, more so how she had never heard of any of this before. While processing that information, she gave a rather vague answer, "Have you ever seen the movie "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman"?"

"No," Toymandarin answered blankly.

"Well, neither have I. But I assume it was like that movie," Kamala added with a shrug. Weird as it was, she appreciated the casual conversation, there weren't a lot of those in Belle Raft.

Eventually, the two reached the coordinates Toymandarin received. But when they arrived, all they saw was more empty ocean. As they hovered over the exact location, Kamala had assumed they were led astray and began to panic, stammering about this and that, displaying great dismay over their current situation. Toymandarin tried to tune her out and figure out what was happening. As the waves cascaded below, the boy noticed patterns in the water. The water seemed to flow around and away from a large unseen shape in the ocean. Alongside that, the armor was picking up on a strange frequency.

Toymandarin raised the mech's arm behind the head and flicked at Kamala. She didn't fall off, but was snapped out of her panic, "What the hell was that for!?" She snapped as the iron fist deformed her face like clay. But with slight concentration, she returned it to normal.

"I need quiet to think. You were disrupting my concentration," Toymandarin answered nonchalantly. "The robot is sensing something giving off weird sounds. Some kind of sonic camouflage. I experimented with the idea myself with large invisible rubber duckies. Do you think they're reusing my designs?"

Kamala ignored Toymandarin's question, "So, there's a big invisible thing out here? Are you sure?"

"Well, we're in luck. The Transformer built a fancy sound gun in this thing," Toymandarin extended out the arm of the mech and brandished the sonic cannon mounted upon it, aiming it towards where he believed some secret base was. "And if I match the frequency at an equal intensity…" the boy continued as he fiddled with some dials and controls within the mech. He then hit a large red button and fired off the cannon.

The sound wave hit what appeared to be some kind of force field, the impact rippled across it until the whole thing dissipated to reveal a massive black dome within the field. The once hidden base seemed to be shaped like an elaborate helmet, Darth Vader's to be specific. Star Wars existed in both universes, so the Amalgamation left it untouched. It was a dull gunmetal grey with glowing yellow eyes. Surrounding the helmet shaped base was a deck for the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. to land.

Being in prison for so long, Toymandarin didn't recognize what this was, but Kamala did. "I never thought I'd see it up close! This is the SS Doom. This is the base of Ulysses Hyde: the Sonic Manta, the Murderous Master of Sound! He's the archenemy of the Black Orca," she rattled off as if it were some compulsive tick. Once being an obsessed fan of all thing's superhero, she had done a lot of research on the various villains they all fought. "It was a gift from Black Doom after they worked together to fight the Elemental Four 5 years ago."

Toymandarin gave Kamala an odd look, but given he was inside the mech, she couldn't see it. She was eerily in-depth, but he had a somewhat strange obsession himself, she could have hers. "Let's just land and figure out who's orchestrating all of this." With a flew flicks of the levers, the giant robot descended towards the landing deck of the base, and promptly stopping on the ground.

Kamala then unlaced her legs from the machine and stood on the deck. She took a deep breath and looked up to see the sun. After not seeing it after being underwater for seven months, the beautiful golden light and warm rays were an absolute delight, momentarily calming the polymorph's frantic mind. "I can't believe we've missed so much. I didn't think freedom would taste this good."

Toymandarin popped open the faceplate of the armor, shimmying his tiny body up through the cockpit to poke his head through the opening, "Honestly, outside's a bit overrated."

Kamala was now the one to shoot Toymandarin a look of confusion, "You were in there for 4 years, a quarter of your life, how is this not huge for you?"

"I've spent roughly 90% of my life indoors. My home country was never big on the nature stuff, especially when I started working at age 8," Winwu answered before he started advancing towards the front door.

"Wait, w-what? Work, what did you do?" Kamala stuttered at the shock of hearing that.

"I worked in a toy factory; I made all kinds of stuff," the boy answered. "That's where I picked up my basic skills, but I never got to play with any of what I made. I always envied the kids who'd get to," he said with a twinge of regret. "But once I got the rings, that was when I really got to have fun. So, my whole life has essentially just been toys," he said as his ominous voice turned more emotional.

"Wow, that is really sad. Sorry your life turned out like this," Kamala said embiggening her hand and sympathetically patting the big robot on the back.

Winwu smiled as they approached the front of the massive Manta head. Kamala stretched out her still enlarged hand and knocking on the space between the eye windows. "Hello? Anyone home? Mr. Hyde?"

For a moment, there was silence, but then the center of the helmet slid open. Fog billowed out from the opening as a tall, slender silhouette stepped out still shrouded by the cloud. The figure outstretched his arms to greet them, "Your savior, is here!" he belted as the smoke cleared to reveal Loxxi Luthorson standing there to welcome them. He was now clad in a gold collared shirt, green pants, and a pair of black suspenders crossed over his chest, forming an X. His golden horned helmet glistened off the sunlight as he stepped out from the base to welcome the two.

Kamala's eyes widened, "You're…you're umm…" she was speechless.

"Loxxi Luthorson, yes, I know. It's shocking for a lot of people to meet me for the first time. Welcome to the big leagues, kiddos. Come with me," Loxxi instructed, leading the two back inside. As they entered, the sound barrier reformed around the base, shrouding its presence once again.

Inside the SS Doom was like what one would find inside a high-class submarine. The interior was covered in a crisp, clean, silver paintjob. The main room of the base was wide, round, and about 50 feet high with a visible upper deck with control panel for steering. Doors lined the rear edge of the main room with some doors. One side of the room dipped down, leading into some kind of workshop, while another did the same leading to a galley. And at the center of it all was open roundtable near identical to the one in the LMI Watchtower, but without the large teleportation pad filling out the middle.

"Welcome to the new headquarters of the Legion of Masters. I am grateful to have you on board for my newest endeavor. With help from the two of you and the rest of the team, we will change the world for the best," Loxxi introduced as he pointed over to the workshop. "Mr. Winwu, there's a place just to your right where you can leave the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. for now. We shall make adjustments to the armor so that it suits you better later. I have plans for it that will be to your liking," The man exuded a kind of magnetic charm that was difficult to remain on guard from.

"It's truly a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Luthorson. Thank you for this opportunity," Toymandarin said returning to his eerie disposition and piloting the mech to the workshop.

Kamala looked around in awe of the base, it was surely and upgrade in accommodations. But now, she realized just how large scale of what she stumbled into was. With Loxxi Luthorson, one of the most infamous supervillains in the world at the helm of whatever this was, "As grateful as I am for the breakout Mr. Luthors-" she began to say before being cut off by Loxxi.

"Ah bup bup, please, Kamala, call me Loxxi. Employees and children call me Mr. Luthorson, you and I shall be peers," Loxxi said placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

Kamala, still a bit wary, continued, "Right…Loxxi. I don't know why you wanted me as a part of your Legion or whatever. I'm not a supervillain. I made a mistake…well, two mistakes now."

Loxxi gave Kamala a warm smile, "Precisely. This is not a team for villainy, I want good people on this project," he asserted, "And after reviewing your file, you seem like someone who deserves a second chance. I received and wasted far too many of those by my brother, before ever truly learning the value of one. I hope you don't waste yours." He was telling her exactly what she needed to hear. Loxxi seemed like someone who finally understood her.

Kamala remained cautious, but gradually being put more at ease. That was until she looked down to see her eviscerated prison jumpsuit, barely holding itself together. Her ease turned to extreme embarrassment, stretching her arms around her body to cover herself up. "Thanks, can we continue this after I get some new clothes? You do have something else for me to wear, right?" She requested, avoiding eye-contact out of shame.

Loxxi eyed Kamala up and down, "Yes, of course. We'll provide you something that will accommodate your powerset in due time, but for now you can borrow some from Minerva." He then turned his head to look towards one of the doors in the back. "Oh Minnie!"

Out from one of the doors shot out the Silver Cheetah. Like a blur, she came to Loxxi's side, wearing a black tank top and shorts, her tail poking out through a hole in the latter, and her speed talisman mystically fused to her chest. "Yeah? What do you want, Loxx," the cat-woman asked in a low growl, barely acknowledging Kamala was even standing there.

Loxxi held back a glare and gestured his hand to Kamala, "Minnie, I'd like you to meet Ms. Zeul. She's in need of some new attire for the time being, you are willing to accommodate, yes?"

The cheetah narrowed her eyes and stared down at Kamala, who at this time was shorter and curvier than herself, "I don't think she's my size."

Kamala concentrated and stretched herself up a few inches and reshaped her body to match Minerva's more athletic physique, "How about now?"

Loxxi smirked at Kamala's resourcefulness, Minerva was less amused, "Fine, hope you're not allergic to cat fur." She then darted around to behind Kamala and grabbed the back of her neck.

Kamala tensed up from being so unexpectedly clutched, "What is this for?"

"It's so you don't get whiplash," Loxxi answered, clearly having been through the same thing before.

Kamala was confused, "What?"

"Whiiip-laash," Minerva reiterated, slowing down the word with a sly grin across her face. She then made a mad-dash to her room with Kamala in her grasp, leaving behind some dust and some of the remaining scraps of Kamala's prison jumpsuit in their wake. In half a second, they were inside Minerva's quarters.

The den of the Silver Cheetah was oddly tame. A beast known as one of the most savage and deadly assassins in the world had a room of very average appearance. The only distinguishing factor were a very badly beaten punching bag chained between the floor and ceiling, and the floor being covered in skid marks. It was quite small given there had to be rooms for the other members of the Legion, but it had the expected bed, drawers, desk, wall mirror, et cetera. Minerva left Kamala standing in the middle of the room as she rummaged through the dresser.

Kamala observed the cheetah while still on edge, she was well aware of who Minerva was. She was aware of her brief few days as a member of the LMI as Miss Mercury before turning to the dark side. And she was well versed on the pools of blood the woman standing in front of her had shed to satiate her cursed bloodlust. So understandably, Kamala was a little afraid of Minerva.

Eventually, Minerva pulled a dark blue shirt with a lightning bolt decal and a pair of red leggings from her drawer and threw it at Kamala, "Here, not exactly fashionable, but it'll do until Loxx can get you something else."

Kamala gave a sheepish grin before changing into the new clothes, even with her shapeshifting, the clothes were still quite tight. "Thanks. Why do wear clothes anyway? It's not like you need them with all the fur. Isn't it itchy?" Asking pestering questions to Minerva seemed unwise, given her proficiency in violence, but the girl's curiosity got the better of her.

Minerva turned back to face Kamala with a cocked eyebrow, "Tight clothes keep the fur down, lowers air resistance. Otherwise, I like to hold on to at least some of my humanity." She answered with resentment for her current situation.

"I've always been curious whenever I heard about your killings, how much of your humanity is left?" Kamala asked sitting down on Minerva's bed. "Is Miss Mercury still in there?"

Minerva scoffed at the mention of her old hero-name, "Hard to say honestly. I still got all the old memories in here, I'm not some mindless beast like the tabloids would tell you." She then whizzed over to Kamala's side, sitting down next to her.

"But I'm not all me anymore either. This stupid talisman my asshole dad gave me is like a parasite. It's the God of the Hunt, so he's always nagging me in the back of my mind to kill everyone in the room. It tells me how, and it never stops," Minerva continued with a heavy sigh.

"Do you regret the murders," Kamala asked, trying to find any goodness in Minerva. If she could, maybe being surrounded by so many supervillains wouldn't be as daunting.

"At first, I did. I didn't want to be a killer, each one used to haunt me, but eventually that voice got too loud, and I just gave up. Whenever the bloodlust takes over, I can't stop who I hurt. Eventually it became easier to just forget about them, and start to enjoy it," Minerva answered darkly, "Having a soul just wasn't worth the guilt, but you get used to it."

Kamala inched away from Minerva, horrified by her answer. She put her head in her hands, breaking down at the realization of what crowd she's fallen in with, "I never wanted any of this. All I ever wanted was to save people, to be a symbol like the rest of them. But I guess the world never wanted that for me, huh!" She then started crying into her hands.

Minerva grew uncomfortable with her display of emotion, "Jeez, kid. Quit wallowing. You're leagues better off with us than you were rotting in that cell."

Kamala took what Minerva said with great exception, "Oh yeah, being a fugitive from the law, forced to hide and fight for the rest of my life, surrounded by mass murderers is way better! I'm never going to see my parents again! My life, as I know it, is over. Kamala Zeul is dead!" She then started to grow larger in response to the stress.

Minerva popped her claws as a reflex, "Look kid, don't think of this as your death. It's a rebirth. It sucks now, you're going to do a lot of things you're going to regret at first. Take it from me. But eventually you get used to it. Eventually, you're going to be just like the rest of us."

Kamala enlarged her hand and pinned Minerva against the wall, making a loud thud. "I AM NOT LIKE YOU! I AM NOT A MONSTER!" she yelled indignantly.

Minerva squirmed, trying to speed her way out of Kamala's grasp, but the polymorph's perfectly pliable body kept her trapped, "Well to me it looks like your two options in life are go back to your cage, or run wild with us. Seems a lot like a monster to me," she answered with a hint of sass.

Kamala sneered at the cat in her hand as she began to grow larger, yet again stretching away at her clothes. Any larger, and she'd flatten the cat against the wall. She then turned around to hear the door open as a large yellow beam shot from outside and clashed with the girl. The beam formed a fluorescent film around Kamala, pulling her away from Minerva, and letting the cheetah drop to the floor. Eventually the growing girl was ensnared in some kind of glowing, yellow bubble, frcing her back to normal size. It was then the source had entered the room.

Entering the room was Yon-Sinestro, primarily the nemesis of Green Marvel, but he held resentment against anyone wielding a green ring, so Loxxi brought him onboard to fight Jessica. He was a Kree who once worked for the Lantern Corps and trained a rookie Carol Jordan. But after what can be simplified down to "administrative differences", he left the Corps to study different sources of power. He wore garb like the military armor of the Kree Lanterns, but it was augmented to replace the noble green for a cowardly yellow. His ring generated constructs of the same color, but instead of being powered by Will, Sinestro's ring was powered by Fear. And with Kamala having a nervous breakdown, Sinestro's ring had plenty to feed off.

Yon held out his ring and kept the girl encased inside his construct, absorbing the abundance of the emotion radiating from her, "Now now, child. Relax. Worry is wasted on the worriers, but I shall make proper use of it later," he said in a posh accent.

As the ring worked its magic, Kamala was calming down. She knew she should be panicking at the situation, but she felt no fear, only a desire to keep moving forward and continuing to live. Eventually Yon-Sinestro released her from the bubble and dropped her to the ground, making a brief splat noise upon contact with the floor. "Okay, is all that out of your system now?"

Kamala pulled herself back up and looked to Sinestro. She knew him as a fear-mongering despot who once threatened to blow up the Earth, but she didn't fear him at the current moment. "Yes, I'm…fine. This is all just a lot to take in. I'm not like the rest of you. I've never killed someone, had a big scheme, or ever even stole a candy bar. All I did after I got my powers was try to help my community to impress someone I looked up to. It was then when I was forced to do what I did. And I was made to pay along with him," She explained through slow, deep breaths. Clear of her panic, Kamala spoke more succinctly.

Sinestro gave a small "Hm," after listening to the girl, "Well, we never do get to choose our own fates, do we? I created the yellow ring because I knew the Guardians would eventually fail to protect the universe with the current power they have. They exiled me because my light did not fit with their dogma, fearing I would "corrupt" the other corpsman. Even my favorite protégé turned against me. All I wanted to do was help my employers protect the universe. How awful of me," he regaled bitterly. Everything he said was technically true, although he did leave out a few details.

Minerva was the second to pipe in, "I took the stupid speed charm from my father because I wanted to be a hero like him. He always loved my sister best, viewed me as inferior to her. When I was dating Wonder Crystal, she saw me as just another helpless little mortal fling. I just wanted the people I loved to respect me. I had it for maybe a week, then the fucked-up magic with this thing cursed me for finally being happy," she explained clutching the talisman. "Everybody like us starts out like you, Kamala. All innocent and optimistic; they think that they can make a difference, change the world for the better. But the world doesn't want to get better, it wants to stay the same as it always was. So, they screw over guys like us and the guys who keep everything the same will want to stop us. With Loxxi, we have a chance to finally do something that'll make a difference."

"I'm not sure what Luthorson has planned for you, Ms. Zeul. But if sees you as someone of value, someone worth giving a second chance to, it would be very beneficial to have you fight alongside us. So will you join us," Sinestro propositioned extending out his ringed hand.

Kamala looked at the both of them, she had more in common with the two than she'd like to admit. She didn't want to become exactly like them, she still wanted to be a good person. But at least for now, she'd work with them; for the sake of learning what their plan was, and to see if she could benefit from it in some way. "Okay, you got me." Kamala said reaching out and shaking Sinestro's hand. "And please, call me Ms. Gigantic," She then grew only about a foot and a half taller than her natural height to embrace a level of confidence within herself. Also given how much she had already stretched out her clothes, it was the only way to make them fit now. "That's what the guys in S.H.I.E.L.D. already call me, might as well own it.".

Yon-Sinestro smirked, "Excellent choice, Ms. Gigantic. Now, let us go to the main hall so you can be briefed on the overall plan. Luthorson will finally explain everything now that most of us here. He doesn't like to waste time saying the same thing repeatedly, so he's been vague so far."

Gigantic grew a bit confused, "Wait, if you don't know the plan, why are you here? Can't you go anywhere else in the universe?"

"Well, yes. But I'd rather be in the one place I know Jordan will eventually come back to. So, this is just barely interesting enough to pass the time while I wait for her," Sinestro answered strategically, "Also the chefs Luthorson has on staff make a very good frittata."

The shapeshifter felt her stomach growl, "I am pretty hungry, actually. Food at Belle Raft was not good. It was halal at least. Let's go. Minerva, you comi-" she stopped as she felt a heavy gust of wind left behind as Minerva had burst out of the room. "Does she do that a lot?"

"Yes, it becomes quite troublesome amidst conversations. Patience is not one of her virtues," Sinestro said turning around and leaving the room, Ms. Gigantic followed behind him.

About ten minutes later, seven of the current eight members of the Legion of Masters sat around the roundtable. The podium at the head of the table had a logo painted onto a shield. The symbol was that of skull and crossbones, but with the latter above the former, the bones replaced with a marionette's crossbar, and the base of the skull designed to resemble the surface of the Earth. Beneath the symbol were the letters "L.O.M." across the bottom of the shield. The businessman Loxxi was heavily involved in the personal marketing and branding for his new team.

At one side of the table were of course Silver Cheetah, Ms. Gigantic, and Yon-Sinestro. The latter two were both eating frittatas at the table. At the other side were Toymandarin, now dressed in a smart looking blue sweater vest with an ornate Chinese pattern, a red tie, and grey slacks. He was joined by Beta Ray Zero, who seemed to be facing the opposite direction, and two other gentlemen.

One was the Sonic Manta, the owner of the base. He wore a black and red suit of armor akin to a diver's suit and his helmet shaped was like the surrounding base. On the man's left arm was an advanced cannon designed to emit concentrated sound waves even more potent than the one upon the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. The Manta's armor was constantly vibrating, pulsing with sonic energy. There was once a man within that suit, but Ulysses Hyde was now a being made of pure sound, barely contained by the armor.

"Where is Loxxi? I didn't let him use my ship just to house a bunch of freaks," he spat impatiently. Hyde's voice was raspy and garbled, with a South African twang. But it sounded like that before the accident which destroyed his body. Of all things for a being made of sound to carry over, the voice would be the only thing. There wasn't any thematic reason Loxxi wanted him on his team, he just needed easy access to a headquarters with adequate cloaking technology, and Hyde just so happened to fit the bill. The fact he already had a vendetta against the Black Orca was just an added bonus.

The other was Wesley E. Nygma, he was dressed in a fine tailored, charcoal grey suit and bowler hat covered in bright green question marks. He possessed no abilities save for a brilliant mind, a penchant for strategy, and nigh infinite connections throughout the criminal underworld. While he never held a presence as a supervillain independent of his employer, since Bane's incarceration, Nygma had taken the title of "The Inquisitor".

It appears that the Blind Bat was correct in his assumption that Loxxi Luthorson would require the services of the man who orchestrated the complex operations of the Kingpain. "He'll be here shortly, Mr. Hyde. Mr. Luthorson is on a call with his benefactor. Before he tells us the plan, he wants to run everything by them to get their approval," the Inquisitor answered as he adjusted his glasses.

Manta scoffed, "Oh please, Twig. Since when does a man like Loxxi Luthorson go to someone else to get approval for a scheme? Who is he working with, anyway? Or more accurately, who is he gonna double-cross when things inevitably go to shit?" He swore like a pirate, mainly because he used to be one.

"The identity of our employer is unknown. All I know is they have a powerful affinity for magic, and possess a teleporting, blue raven," Wesley responded, "Given the name Mr. Luthorson chose for our merry little band, the "Legion of Masters", I suppose it's another ploy for world domination."

Manta looked over at the backwards facing Beta Ray Zero, "Hey, Bezarro. Has Baldy told you anything about what the plan?"

Beta Ray Zero spun his chair around in circles, eventually losing angular momentum and stopping facing the same way as everyone else, "Yes. Luthorson tell Bezarro everything!" he proclaimed proudly, staring up at the ceiling.

The red eyes of the Sonic Manta's helmet pulsed, seemingly indicating the audial marauder's excitement, "That's great…wait," it was only then when he remembered the nonsensical backwards speak Beta Ray Zero spoke in, realizing the abominable horseman knew nothing. A crackling groan of frustration escaped from within the armor.

Kamala looked up from her frittata to give her own theory, "Well, if they're a magic user, perhaps they have a vendetta against the Fatal Compass. They want to defeat him, so he recruited us to handle the rest of the League while he handles Fate himself."

Sinestro looked to Kamala confused, "Um, Ms. Gigantic, Fate is dead. He died 6 months ago. He's not really a problem for us anymore."

Kamala's face fell, "Oh…I actually kind of liked him. Sorry, news didn't travel much in prison." she then looked to Minerva, the Silver Cheetah was quiet, her expression one of bitterness at the mention of her father. "Sorry for your loss, Minerva."

"Whatever," Minerva grumbled aloofly. Her relationship with her father was always complicated, especially after the curse. She never truly made peace with the Fatal Compass before his death, so she continues to resent him.

Kamala looked back to Sinestro, who was eating his frittata with a yellow construct of a fork, "What else did I miss?"

"Quite a lot. It was seven very eventful months. I'll give you a pamphlet after the meeting," he responded sarcastically between bites.

"I like the cross bar on our symbol, making the whole world one great big toy for us to play with," Toymandarin interjected his observation amidst the conversation with his grin still plastered across his face.

Manta eyed both Winwu and Kamala with skepticism, "I don't get it, why'd he go through so much trouble to get you two children out of prison? He already has a weaponry expert with me, and muscle with the cat and the horse. What do you bring to the table, kid?" He brandished his sonic cannon, subtly aiming it towards Ms. Gigantic.

The descendant of the Inhuman Amazons stood up straight to assert a level of confidence. If she were to play with the big boys now, she had to appear as such. "Encyclopedic knowledge on the history of superheroes dating back to the second World War, a Bachelor of Science and Engineering Degree from Princeton, and I've fought Wonder Crystal and almost won," Kamala proclaimed pounding her fists together. She wasn't sure how much of what she said would be useful, but she needed three things to say, and those were the biggest assets.

"I can confirm. She almost squished Barbie like a blob of Play-Doh. It was quite exciting to watch," Toymandarin added in defense of Kamala. Despite their limited interaction, he viewed her as a friend.

"And per my records, you've lost against the Elemental Four three times, against Fireant twice, Beetle-Man, Cyberman, and Sergeant Speed once each, and against Black Orca around 17 times. Your reputation isn't exactly stellar, Mr. Hyde," Kamala rattled off, then cracking her knuckles to look tough.

"She's got you there, Manta," the Inquisitor said with a smirk. The Sonic Manta could only grumble in annoyance at Ms. Gigantic's analysis.

It was finally then when Loxxi Luthorson re-entered the main hall and joined the rest of the Legion. He approached the podium at the middle of the roundtable, "Ladies, gentlemen, monsters, I am Loxxi Luthorson, and I have been burdened with glorious purpose," he announced to a crowd who already knew who he was.

"When I heroically stood against Ghanoseid to lay down my life to buy my brother time to escape, I was given another way out by a generous benefactor. An avatar of Chaos Magic, he taught me so much in the time of my absence from this realm. But most importantly, he gave me perspective on the greater universe. His power let me see the infinite possibilities for what the world could be. And the future can be beautiful." Loxxi spoke with great gravitas. After years of running a company, he knew the right way to hook a crowd. Although not the entire crowd was hooked.

"Get to the point, Luthorson," the Manta shouted, frustrated.

Loxxi glared at the Sonic Manta and raised his hand. He snapped his fingers and what appeared to be the "Mute Volume" symbol one would see on a television remote would fly from Loxxi's hand and into the Manta, promptly shutting him up for the time being. He cleared his throat and continued his speech.

"That was a little trick I learned from my benefactor. Anyways, he showed me the potential of a truly immaculate world. It is perfect because it ever changing, a world that is infinitely fractured, a world constantly altered to provide every person in it exactly what they desire. It was glorious, but the way the world currently is, it is unattainable," Loxxi explained with a sadness in his voice at the thought of his perceived tragedy.

"Our world has been stagnant. A bitter status quo where the natural world order creates suffering in so many. And those who wish to improve their situation by any means are quashed by the new enforcers of the Lords of Order, the lackies of the late Fatal Compass, the League of Marvelous Individuals led by my well-intentioned but utterly hapless brother, Thor-El," he continued bitterly.

This proclamation confused Kamala, "I'm sorry, excuse me, Loxxi? I'm fairly certain the Fatal Compass was only a consultant for the LMI? How could all the other members be working for Fate's bosses?"

Loxxi smiled, "Very good question, Kamala. Since the new age of heroes begun, the League of Marvelous Individuals have taken control over the world's international defense. They police the world with iron fists. Any conflict between nations is intervened by one of them and are forcefully resolved. They've partnered with SHIELD to take control of any situation involving superhuman affairs. Most of SHIELD's technology is funded by Stark Labs, making Cyberman even richer than I once was. People like you Kamala, are detained all the time because you pose a threat to their perfect, orderly world."

The demigod briefly clapped his hands together and turned out the lights. He outstretched his hand and began conjuring illusions in the opening in the center of the table. A murky, green fog rolled throughout the room. Mirages of Thunderman, Blind Bat, Wonder Crystal, Sergeant Speed, Black Orca, Cyberman, and the Emerald Witch stood against those at the table. The ever-naïve Beta Ray Zero saw the illusion of Thunderman and readied his nail to strike, but he was held back by Nygma. The illusions loomed over a small representation of the Earth, soulless eyes glared down at the planet like a pack of wolves to a wounded lamb.

"And worst of all, they have made humanity weak. They are complacent to live within a mundane status quo. Nothing changes, and the same problems they continue to ignore always remain. People always get hurt because they fail to attack the roots of their problems. Those blessed with abilities like Kamala's, cursed by circumstance like Manta or Minerva, or even those like Nygma or myself, who work to change the systems from within, are deemed criminals, terrorists, or supervillains, and are squashed by either the League themselves, or the agencies they enable so they cannot make a world that they can actually live in," Loxxi continued as he changed the illusions to each member of the League destroying a mirroring mirage of members of the Legion.

"Even if they don't understand that themselves, the League members have become tyrants of order. I know that they were once altruistic, but working with the Fatal Compass pushed them down this path, and they have lost their way. Even if he is gone, the man's crusade to maintain order infects them," Loxxi said sadly, thinking back on his brother. He then slammed his fist against the podium. "And if the people of this world are to grow beyond that pitiful template, to what I know humanity CAN be, I've assembled this League of my own. We will take back the proverbial marionette strings the LMI holds over the Earth, and we shall be the new Legion of Masters that perambulate the world towards a true greater future!" He raised his arm up, dropping his hand in the position one would hold a marionette's crossbar, "Now, who shall join me?"

Now, everything that Loxxi had asserted was farfetched to say the least. But throughout his speech, different points of note resonated with each member of the Legion. Toymandarin was motivated by gaining revenge on Stark and taking back the greatest toy he ever lost. Ms. Gigantic truly did want to be a hero and make the world a better place. Sonic Manta wanted to take down the Black Orca, to depose a monarchy. Inquisitor wanted to reshape Goth's Kitchen to a city that didn't need the Blind Bat protecting it. Silver Cheetah wanted to spite her father and her ex-lover. And Yon-Sinestro, spiteful to his old Kree allegiance, wanted to see humanity thrive. All had ends that would be supported by Loxxi's means. And one by one, each villain would raise their hands, taking a similar position to pledge membership to the Legion of Masters. Everyone had done the same except for Beta Ray Zero, who had done the same hand gesture, but his hand was below the table.

Loxxi looked upon his new Legion and grinned. "It'll be a pleasure doing business with you all." With a snap of his fingers, all the illusions he had created faded away, the green smoke cleared, and the lights came back on.

Manta's mystically imbued muteness had also since ceased, "Alright, alright. We're with you. But what's your plan? That's why we're all here. And who's this benefactor guy you were talking about?"

Loxxi bent over and condescendingly pat the Sonic Manta on his helmet, "Yes, yes, of course. How dare I waste any more of your precious time," he said sarcastically. "My benefactor is, as I said, a powerful user of Chaos Magic, the power of endless possibilities. He was once an adversary to the Fatal Compass, causing chaos and general mayhem throughout the world for several decades. With the Fatal Compass gone, he can finally execute his master plan. He wishes to rewrite reality to eliminate the current world order."

"So, with unchecked, as you call, endless power, your benefactor just wants to get rid of SHIELD and the LMI? Seems somewhat shortsighted, is it not? To what end?" Sinestro pondered.

"Oh, my salmon-skinned friend, he has so much more planned than that. In destroying the systems in which the world maintains order, it leaves us in a position to lead the world ourselves. And under our power, we will provide the people of the world exactly what they want," Loxxi answered with a smirk.

"And what would that be?" Minerva interjected to ask.

"I don't know. That's the beauty of it all. My benefactor alongside his magical affinity can read people's minds. So, he can figure out one's deepest desire, and then bring it to fruition. What he aims to do is perform that on a worldwide scale. Mr. Winwu, tell the rest of the team about what I've commissioned you to design," Loxxi asked gesturing towards the Toymandarin.

Toymandarin nodded and pulled out a set of blueprints, rolling them out to show the table, "Thank you Luthorson, these little sketches have been in the works for the past few months that the two of us have been in contact with your handy little raven. What the benefactor wants to create is a large room to amplify his psychic powers. While he is powerful, that power is difficult to fully utilize. We call this wonderful creation Cerebro."

"And with Cerebro providing access to the desires of all people in the world, our benefactor shall bring them into existence," Luthorson re-interjected, "It will be total chaos at first, but with us at the helm, we will turn the new world into a paradise. The people of the world will see how much the old world held them back from being happy. They will see how much the LMI had once kept the world stagnant. They will then see us, the ones who unlocked their true potential, and revere us as their true heroes! We will be their beloved benevolent Gods!" Glory and praise were what Loxxi dreamed of the most. He was going to rewrite reality just to get it. His brother was the God of Tomorrow, he desperately wanted to be the God of Today.

"So, we're going to change the world by giving everyone what they want, somewhat vague, and disastrous premise," Wesley said adjusting his glasses again, "But allow me an inquiry, why do you need me? Sure, you needed Toymandarin to design this contraption, Sonic Manta for the hideout, and then Silver Cheetah, Ms. Gigantic, and Beta Ray Zero for protection, I suppose, but why me? What do I bring to the table?"

Loxxi chuckled, "Oh, dear Nygma, you are one of the most important parts of this plan, all of you are very important for this to work! But your greatest asset is your tactical mind. As brilliant as I am, my mind is far too linear. Yours is far more intricate than normal humans," he answered as he conjured an image of a line, only to twist it into a question mark. "I am fully aware that warping reality to change the lives of every single person would create an absolutely paradoxical menagerie of fractured universes. It'll be an endless jigsaw puzzle to make sure that this sort of dream world doesn't instantly destroy itself. The only way to create self-sustaining chaos is to bring order to it. It's paradoxical, I know, but I know it can be done by someone with the proper logistical fenagling. Solving that riddle will be your job. You think you can do that?"

Nygma beamed at the proposition. For years, he had worked under Wilson Bane to manage the behind-the-scenes operations that went into the Kingpain's criminal empire. The schemes Bane's empire were able to pull off without being caught required thinking not just five steps ahead, but five steps to the left, right, backwards, and even straight up. He would even leave behind clues for the Blind Bat to look for just to make it "fair". He was the true brains behind everything that transpired in Goth's Kitchen, but he always remained in the shadow of his behemoth of an employer. Now, he could finally use his mind to its fullest potential and show the world just how smart he really was. "I believe I can, sir. Until then, I shall provide you with any further resources needed leading up to that."

"Excuse me, I hate to be a spoilsport, but there is one more concern with this whole ordeal," Yon-Sinestro interrupted. "The question of power. All magic is derived from the energies first harnessed by the Guardians, even the Lords of Order and Chaos follow the same principles when they branched off. If we are to achieve a level of reality altering impact, we require a sufficient power supply for your benefactor."

Sinestro's concerns were indeed valid. Previously, I had described the Green Mystic Coven as allies to the Fatal Compass. What I had neglected to elaborate on was that the Coven and the Lords of Order and Chaos all started out as a single group, led by the Ancient Guardians of the Universe since the dawn of time. Over the eons, the Guardians and their nigh infinite wisdom split off into several branches to find different ways to manipulate matter and energy. This is what led to the more science-based Kree Lantern Corps, and the various schools of magic including the Coven and two classes of Lords. They all carry dominion over a large portion of the universe, and all follow different rules for how their powers work and what they can do, but all rely on the same basic concepts.

Consider it like different forms of alcohol based on their base crop and distillation method. The Corps are beer, simple and quite limited in effects, but consistent. The Coven is wine, more refined than the latter, but of a similar potency. Then the Lords of Order and Chaos are bourbon and scotch, much stronger, but more volatile in its effects. Then there's whatever was going on with the Asgardians before they all got blown up, which was completely unrelated to how the other ones did things, but somehow achieved a similar, but far more simple, brutish, result. Consider Asgardian "magic" the bootlegged moonshine of magic.

"Well if need be, we could always put the Thundercat on a treadmill. I have designs in mind," Toymandarin suggested, referring to Silver Cheetah. He began rubbing his hands together sinisterly as he formulated the possibilities in his head.

Minerva shot the boy a glare as she popped her claws at him threateningly. "Don't even try it, kid."

"Don't worry, Minnie. We won't be requiring your services in that avenue," Loxxi assured, "My benefactor is already priming a magic battery to use. It will take some time though, which gives us our window to get the rest of the resources for construction."

Kamala had waited quietly as she absorbed the information. She thought Loxxi's cause was worth following and, despite her previous hangups, wanted to help, "Alright, what's our first move?"

Loxxi smiled at the eager size-shifter, "I'm glad you asked, it will take place tomorrow. The move is infiltrating Ryker's Asylum. With the breakout from Belle Raft, the League will be intent on guarding the other prisons to prevent repetition of your little outburst. Knowing the Bat, he'll do it himself without aide from the rest of the League. Our specific target for release is the Purple Joker."

A flurry of gasps echoed throughout the room. Manta was the first to speak up about the reveal, "Are you mad, Luthorson?! That plum-skinned psycho is impossible to work with! I ain't letting that guy on my ship. One whiff of that bastard, and you're all wearing maid outfits while walking off a bleeding cliff!" He protested as he slammed his cannon arm against the table.

"Relax, Ulysses," Wesley chimed in, "My old associate, Doctor Crane, developed a vaccine of sorts to the clown's pheromones. I'll make sure all of you are inoculated before he arrives. In exchange for his assistance, we'll be orchestrating his escape as well," he explained as he pulled a vial of green liquid from his suit jacket, swirling it around.

Kamala seemed uncomfortable at the prospect of working with Joker. "Why do we even need him? Knowing what he can do gives me the hives," she asked with a shudder. The Purple Joker was notorious for his use of mind-controlled concubines to aide in his crimes.

"I gotta go with the kid on this. He's a pretty disgusting piece of shit," Minerva responded in agreement.

"Yes, I'm aware. We all know how much of a vile pile of excrement he is," Loxxi acquiesced. "But this whole ordeal is going to be very confusing and frightening for billions of people at once. If this is going to work, we need a mental anesthetic of sorts to make people more easily accept the nature of their new existence. He's more of a tool than an actual member of the Legion," he explained dismissively.

The Cheetah seemed to understand his purpose and was willing to set aside her reservations for the sake of the mission. "Alright, juice me up and I'll get going. I run in, break open a bunch of cells, run out? Seems like an easy job," Minerva said lackadaisically.

"Oh, we won't be sending you, dear Minnie. You'd attract far too much attention for this," Loxxi explained. "If we send someone too powerful, he'll be forced to call in for advanced backup. Send in someone on his level, and his pride will force him to defeat them himself. Manage expectations; another very important rule of business," he added with a sly grin. "We have another person for the job who knows the ins and outs of the Asylum much better, and exactly the right people to break out and cause far more chaos." The person in question was also much more expendable in case things went wrong. "Nygma, please let her in."

The Inquisitor pulled out a cellphone and sent a brief text message. Just then, the doors of the Manta's base opened again, and walked in a woman dressed like a harlequin. She wore a black and white skintight outfit with pink accents. Diamonds decorated the ensemble. Two pink J's embroidered on the back of a black leather jacket, inverses of each other. She looked like she was peeled straight off from a playing card. As the right-hand woman to the Purple Joker, it seemed fitting.

A tacky harlequin hood hung behind her head, revealing messily dyed pink hair. Her face was covered in white pancake makeup with a black domino mask over her eyes. Her weapon of choice was a large wooden mallet with a diamond pattern, slung over her shoulders. A woman who was once a brilliant criminal psychologist was twisted by the mind control of the violet violent maniac into the perfect servant to carry out his every whim, including those most unsavory. This unfortunate victim of the Clown Puppeteer of Crime was Joan Quinzel, Alias: The Jeweled Jester.

"Glad you could join us, Ms. Quinzel. You've been told your mission and your payment; can you fulfill your duties as described?"

The Jeweled Jester gave a vapid laugh as she approached the table, the Purple Joker always loved her laugh. He liked his thralls in a constant state of giddiness. She lifted her hammer and slammed it down on the table in front of where the Inquisitor sat. Nygma flinched, much to her delight. "Oh, you know it Mister E!" she answered with artificial glee. Her eyes were empty and soulless despite her expression. "Just get me back to my Grape Jello Puddin', and you won't even have to pay me for it," she said in a phony Boston accent.

Loxxi was pleased at Quinzel's response. She and the Joker were quite the wild cards, but they'd be a suitable distraction for the League while they enacted the rest of their plan. "Thank you, Ms. Quinzel. Your help shall be instrumental in bringing power to the world's…"

New Masters

Chapter 12: The Burden's Thirst

It was a calm evening in Goth's Kitchen. There weren't many of those for a long time. At the center of the city was a humble little office building. At the door was a charming sign with the words "Wayne and Grayson: Attorneys at Law". This was where people who were failed by society would go to be defended. This was where Matthew Wayne, Foggy Grayson, and Karen Gordon formulated the lawsuits which toppled the Kingpain's criminal empire and sent him to Ryker's Asylum. This was the heart of Goth's Kitchen; the place the Blind Bat could remove his cape and cowl, and still be a hero.

Matt stared aimlessly out the window of his office with dark red round sunglasses on his face. He solemnly listened to the bustling of the city. It was chaotic, but the endless sounds which flooded his senses gave him a sense of peace. A menagerie of braille documents was littered across his desk. Various cases the aging Mr. Wayne would have to postpone for a few days. This was because tomorrow, he was going to Ryker's Asylum, a mental hospital on the outskirts of New York, to guard the place from a potential breakout.

After the escape of Ms. Gigantic and the Toymandarin from Belle Raft, the League was on edge for where was next. They would all look towards the place the Blind Bat would send all his major foes. At their trials, which Wayne always oversaw, he would argue that the traumas many of them suffered before had led them incapable of judging between right and wrong, and required treatment, that was the lawyer in him. It certainly wasn't the most effective place to keep dangerous criminals, but the Bat would always fight to send them there because at least in the Asylum, there was a chance to give those were mentally ill the help they needed to one day redeem themselves. The Blind Bat was a staunch believer that no one was beyond it. That was the Catholic in him.

But because of the nature of Goth's Kitchen, corruption and poor funding within the systems would always lead to the Asylum hiring bad doctors and guards who'd abuse their power to harm the patients, leading to eventual breakouts. They would escape, commit more crimes, the Bat would defeat them, send them back, and the cycle would repeat again and again, ad infinitum.

That was the old Goth's Kitchen though. That was under the reign of Bane. He orchestrated all those breakouts to keep the Bat occupied so that he would stay out of his way in running the rest of his organized crime. Now that the muscle-bound mobster was put away there as well, due to Wilson Bane's psychopathy and abuse of a performance enhancing drug called venom, things have been better. The people in power provide patients proper care now. Even some of the minor villains have been fully reformed and have ended their lives of crime. Wilbur Wesker, Jervis Powers, Maximus Angar, all people who went through the mile of sewage and came out clean on the other side. The Blind Bat was relieved, Matthew Wayne was proud.

But he knew Goth's Kitchen's current tranquility was not going to last. He knew that whatever Wesley Nygma was planning with the Legion would spell nothing but mayhem for his city. He had gotten a tip from another reformed villain, Leland Cobblepot, the Kiwi, that anything Nygma was planning at Arkham would be happening tomorrow. So, he rallied his troops, his Defenders of Goth's Kitchen, to help him secure the Asylum to prevent the Inquisitor's infernal schemes from coming to fruition.

A knock on Matt's office door snapped him out of his brooding. His senses gave him the knowledge that it was his partner, Foggy Grayson. "Come in, Foggy," Matt said in a raspy voice. The façade Matt would put on as the Blind Bat was like nails on his throat, but the deep growl was necessary for intimidation.

Into the room came a man a tad younger than Matt. He was less athletically built than the constantly training Matt, but he could hold his own. He wore a black suit with a deep blue tie, but he left the suit jacket open. A dirty-blonde mullet drooped across the back of Grayson's head. He had a worn, but friendly smile across his face as he approached Wayne, "Burning the midnight oil, huh Matt?" he asked looking down at the papers on his desk.

"Just getting some last-minute work in before tomorrow. You're coming, right?" Maty responded with his own question.

"As much as I'd love to squeeze myself into those tights again, I can't. Someone's gotta hold down the fort here. I got a trial, you know, those things we do to keep the lights on," Foggy answered sarcastically as the fluorescent lights above them briefly flickered and buzzed. "I rest my case…wait," Foggy paused once he realized Matt wouldn't have seen the lights.

"It's fine, I heard them. But Foggy, I need you on this. We can't afford to let any of them get out before they're ready. People can get hurt," Matt tried to convince him.

"Do you really need me? You already have Karen, Tim, Cage, and the Fist on this. Three of those guys have powers, and the one that doesn't is running things remotely. You don't need a guy who can hit people with sticks at an above average skill level," Foggy defended, twirling a pencil in his hand, "Besides, why not just call Selina, or one of your Superfriends for help? This is all for them, right?"

"Romanoff is indisposed right now with a mission elsewhere. We're also on complicated terms for the time being," Matt responded with a twinge of bitterness. "As for the League, I'd rather have my own people on this. As strong as they are, I don't want them to accidentally destroy what I've built there."

Foggy scoffed, "What's the point of being on a team with those guys if you can't call in favors to get their help?"

"I'm a part-timer, Foggy. I have no serious commitment to them, and they have commitment to me. My mission is parallel to theirs, and it only intersects when I let it," Matt explained with a groan.

"Bullshit! Just admit that you don't fully trust them." Foggy motioned closer to Matt, grabbing a few of the papers and looking at them as if he was reading off evidence. "You call yourself a part-time member, yet you show up to all the meetings because you don't want to be left out of any information. We could've gotten help to take down Bane from any of them at any time, but you only called Thor after Bane broke your back, and that was just because he was a doctor. You sent him back to Neo Metropolis right after he stitched you back together, wouldn't let him help you. And let's not talk about the World on Fire Contingencies…" he trailed off as if he was cross-examining Matt.

"Enough, Grayson," Matt said with a low growl in his voice. "They're colleagues, I don't want to have them closer to what I do than I need to. They are more gods than men, and I dare not put myself on that pedestal."

"Just colleagues?" Foggy said skeptically. "You and Stark went golfing a bunch during that stupid case with HammerWorks. You were a groomsman at King T'Kurri's royal wedding. I've seen Thunderman call you his best friend," he listed off before deciding to go for the jugular of arguments against the Bat's detachment, "Do I have to mention Diana?"

Matt didn't give a verbal response immediately; he cracked his knuckles first. "Tread lightly, Grayson," he warned.

Foggy dialed back his inquisition, "Fine, fine. I'm just saying you're closer to them than you'd like to admit. So why don't you trust them to operate here?"

"It's not about trust. I trust them to keep the world safe, but Goth's Kitchen is my city. There is so little that we as common people can control. When the dangers which threaten this world are so large-scale, the League forgets about the people down below. I can't patrol the whole world and still give every person the same thing I can give to the good people of this city. I can't just be a hero, an avenger, or even a symbol. I have to be a guardian. The League can't do that in their domain, but I can do it in mine."

"No. I want control because the world works this way," Matt answered. "For the first time in who knows how long, the city is at peace. I want to turn it into a place that will live on without me. When I'm gone, Goth's Kitchen should be able to stand on its own. I don't need the others to give it crutches."

Foggy gave a dry chuckle, "Sharp as ever, Matt. But you don't have to do it on your own." He gave his partner a playful punch to the arm. "Like it or not, you stand among gods. Even as a part-timer. We can handle the city, and you can figure out exactly what you want to do with your life. Maybe finally settle down,"

"I know that, but not yet. There's still work for me to do," Matt answered turning back around, "But when it does come, I have Tim to take over," he added stifling a laugh, "He's a much better Pupil than you ever were."

"Well, the laser eyes do help, don't they?" Foggy asked rhetorically.

"Perhaps a little. But the best part is h-," Matt began to respond before he started hearing the familiar sound of ripping metal from across town, near the docks. It was likely Lorna again, doing who knows what in his city. "Foggy, I'll have to come back to this conversation later. I have a troublesome woman to see."

Without much fanfare, Matt went over to what appeared to be a tall liquor cabinet. He punched in a code on the lock to open it up to reveal no gin or scotch, but a spare costume he had stored in the office. "See yourself out, will you?"

Foggy was resigned to having this happen multiple times in any given week, so he turned around and left the room, "Okay, g'night Matt."

"Good night, Foggy. Don't forget to wake up Karen tomorrow. I need her at her sharpest," Matt requested as he was sliding on his armored tights. Once he was done putting on his gear, he grabbed his walking cane and broke it into two halves, attaching the now unconcealed Bat-Batons to his belt. He then opened his office window and leapt off into the night.

On the outskirts of Goth's Kitchen, within a construction site shut down for the night, the Polar Blade was fighting off a quite peculiar adversary. This was a crusade for revenge. Her initial goals of burying her father's helm were now out of her range of feasibility. Her fury was redirected towards tracking down the man who killed her mother. Lorna was lucky enough to happen upon the yakuza members in Goth's Kitchen. She briefly dispatched the thugs by restraining them in the piles of rebar lying around the site. She could very easily have sliced them to pieces with her sword, but perhaps despite all her pain, she did not have the will to end a life, at least not theirs. For the duration of this fight, her sword had remained sheathed. But for their leader, it was drawn, for she desired blood.

Still clad in her green cloak and white mask, she walked towards this clan of yakuza's leader. The two had seemed to be fighting for about ten minutes before the Bat first heard Lorna rip apart pieces of the site. She unleashed a relentless assault of girders, rivets, and rebar towards the villain. He swatted away the oncoming debris as if it were mere twigs, pebbles and vines tossed by a child. Monstrous strength lied within the man, and he was more the former than the latter.

Although, it was a strange combination of monsters that this man was. He appeared to be a skeleton, but also a vampire. This is one of the more peculiar results of the Amalgam. He was a combination of the traits from one Morbius the Living Vampire, and the bizarrely less threatening Lord Death Man. The foe in question wore an all-black bodysuit with a red sash around the waist. White, bony hands protruded from the sleeves, but the body itself still looked muscular. He wore a blood red cape which looked like bat wings. The head of this man was just a plain, white skull. No flesh or even eyes, just glowing red pupils from empty eye sockets, paired with a set of vampiric fangs from the skull's mouth. This was Doctor Larry Morbius, but he seems to proclaim himself as…

"I AM MORB DEATH MAN! YOU SHALL FALL TONIGHT AT MY HANDS! YOU WERE BUT A FOOL TO STAND AGAINST ME, GIRL." The strange man announced, extremely loudly. His voice was also one of the most grating things a person could ever hear. Dr. Morbius' screeching was akin to throwing a dying cat into a rusty blender, throwing it against a chalkboard, and then dropping a steel pipe on top of the shards. That is the noise every syllable of every word of every sentence the amalgamated immortal utters makes. Funnily enough, the screeching of his voice seemed to attract swarms of bats from around the city towards the construction site. Even a mile and a half away, the Blind Bat could still hear him, and his hyper-sensitive hearing caused Matt great discomfort from just passively listening to the ghoul. Despite that, the Bat pursued onward.

Lorna remained silent as she made a dash toward Morbius, her sword aimed outward. The skeleton ran towards the swordswoman as his skull's face twisted from looking human to something more monstrous. She gave a crossing swipe against the monster, but as it sliced at the bone of the forearm, it barely left a scratch. Morbius let out a grating cackle as he sent a powerful jab into her stomach, forcing Lorna aback.

Lorna looked down to see a toolbox lying on the ground where she stood. She held out her hand to magnetically lift it up and toss it at Morbius. Nails, wrenches, and even a hammer went flying out of the box as it all cascaded around him. Some of the nails punctured through his suit. The wrenches tore and tattered his cape. And the hammer landed a blow against his skull, leaving an ugly crack across his right eye socket. But through it all, Morbius continued onward, "I KNOW YOU PURSUE ME BECAUSE YOU SEE ME AS YOUR NYEMESIS! BUT NEIGH, I CARE NOT WHO YOU ARE! WHATEVER I DID ON THE DAY I CHANGED YOUR LIFE, IT WAS NOTHING TO ME BUT A TUESDAY!" He yelled further with great grandiosity. But it was in fact actually a Friday when Morb Death Man killed Lorna's mother, Suzaku Toru.

When the swarms of bats arrived at the scene, all the skeletal vampire had to do was point a bony hand towards Lorna, and they flocked to her. The bats scratched and bit her. While her cloak provided adequate protection, some managed to sneak through. One lucky strike even managed to make her bleed. Lorna clutched her katana and held it outward, using her magnesis to pull the blade around in a circle. She spun around rapidly like a helicopter. The gust of wind created by the motion forced the bats to flee.

Morbius seemed impressed with her ingenuity. "Alright, it's morbin' time," he muttered grimly under his breath. This seemed to be some sort of nonsensical catchphrase with significance beyond my understanding.

He slowly sauntered forward as he cracked his knuckles. His voice became calmer, quieter, yet still as annoyingly nasally. Once he saw that Lorna was a capable opponent, he became more serious. "I recognize the scent of your blood. It is familiar to me. A kill from so long ago that I can not place it. To whom do I owe the pleasure of having such a feisty new meal? A husband, a sibling, a parent?" The skull grinned as he taunted her.

Lorna saw red as she charged forward again and stabbed her sword through Dr. Morbius' stomach. Given the fact that this was a skeleton, there was nothing within that area for Lorna to stab, so it passed through his clothes and cape harmlessly. Morbius looked down at the sword through him, nonplussed. "You are the not the first to try and strike Morb Death Man in such a hapless way. For I am deathless!" he proclaimed as he grabbed Lorna's arm, and heaved her over his shoulder, leaving the sword within him and herself unarmed.

Lorna tumbled over by some of the construction vehicles left behind at the site. She looked around to see a cement mixer and a crane with a wrecking ball behind her. She formulated a plan as Morbius approached her.

The vampire removed the sword from his abdomen and brandished it towards the girl, "You didn't even have the guts to kill my henchmen, and that's a lot coming from a guy that doesn't have any guts. You wield the weapon of a killer, but I know you have starved it of its purpose. It thirsts for blood, and so do I."

He leapt into the air and went to pounce on Lorna. But as he descended, he was slammed by the wrecking ball of the crane and was sent crashing to the ground. Morbius staggered to his feet to prepare another attack, only for Lorna to aim the cement mixer's trough towards him. "How's this to quench your thirst?" she asked with a hint of snark. With a flick of her wrist, she yanked the sword out of Morb Death Man's grip. The mixer then unloaded a viscous stream of cement over Morbius, cascading over him like gravy on a biscuit.

Morbius tried to throw the quickly drying cement off his body, but Lorna started forcing bands of rebar through the stony substance. She restrained Morbius tightly as the cement cloak became a compact cell. He was covered head to toe in, now reinforced, concrete. The vampire tried to squirm his way out, but he was completely immobilized. His skull still poked through what could literally be called "streetwear", allowing him to continue yammering at her. "YOU THINK THIS WILL HOLD ME?! NEIGH, I SAY! I'LL GET OUT OF HERE, AND FROM NOW ON, MORB DEATH MAN SHALL BE YOUR GREATEST NYEMESIS!" It occurred to Lorna that the skeleton said the word "nemesis" strangely, but it wasn't important enough to her to bring it up.

The Blind Bat finally arrived at the site on the docks, landing from a nearby rooftop. He sensed the presence of everyone in the area, listening for the heartbeats of all the goons to make sure they were all alive. He was relieved to hear one in each one of the hired thugs, though did not find one within Morb Death Man, though given he was a vampire and a skeleton, he wasn't quite sure what to expect. He turned his attention to Lorna, who was holding her sword to Morbius' face. "Polar Blade, your job here is done. The police are on their way to get everyone here. I'll handle this…thing myself. You can go now, I don't want you fighting in my city," he stated in a firm tone. The Bat wanted to deescalate the situation as fast as possible.

Lorna glared at the Blind Bat, "My job is not done until he suffers for all his crimes, for all the people he has hurt and killed," she retorted with a slight quiver in her voice.

The Bat noticed this as he surveyed the trapped monster, "He was the man that did it, wasn't he? Killing him won't bring your mother back. Vengeance will bring you no peace, trust me. There is no soul fully beyond redemption. Don't cross that line," he pleaded as he slowly moved closer to her. The Bat had a very strict policy on killing, and no one was going to kill anyone in his city.

The swordswoman threw her sword at the Bat, but she stopped it mid-air. It was just a few inches from his face, "Stay back, only one thing you said was right." Lorna took a deep breath as she collected herself. "Yes, this was the creature who killed my mother, but don't call it "he". This is not a man. The monster known as Morb Death Man is a cancer upon Japan," she continued, averting her gaze from both the Bat and Morbius.

"Okay, so I didn't mishear him. That is what he's actually called," the Bat commented, realizing the unintentional ridiculousness of the truly heavy situation.

"You know, I'm right here," Morbius tried to interject, but Lorna struck him across the face with her fist.

"Who said you could talk?!" Lorna yelled at the skeleton. The Bat was actually a bit relieved, because any time he heard Morb Death Man's voice, he would cringe from the noise. "You were right, killing it will not bring my mother back. But it will bring peace to all its victims," she paused to look at her sword, slowly drawing it away from the Bat and back to her hand.

"When my father left our home to assist your League on a mission off world, Morb Death Man and its clan wrought havoc upon the country. They systematically eradicated every superhero in Japan. The Ashen Beastmaster, the Golden Monkey, even the Single Strike Shogun fell. The people prayed for someone to save them, and their answers were snuffed out by it. My actions are to avenge them, not enact revenge."

The Bat had never heard of any of these heroes, but for all he knew, they were just like him. They could also have been people once faced with injustice, but then used the power they gained later in life to make sure no one in their communities would have to face the same. Despite just learning their names, he mourned their loss. "I'm sorry that we couldn't have helped back then. But we are not gods. We are limited in our abilities, your father especially." Blind Bat knew the League was limited, and his faith in their ability to guard the entire world was often put into question.

Lorna scoffed at the Bat's response, "My father was gifted power from the oldest beings in the universe to free his people from genocide. He was the answer to their prayers. And like it or not, your League are the gods of today. You have the Asgardian, the Amazon, the king of a mythical city, a man who returned from the dead, a living green pantheon, reincarnations of Egyptian royalty, and the god of the digital age. Your League is above the world, that gives you the responsibility to watch over all of it, and you failed to protect those who protected us. So let me correct your mistake."

The Bat absorbed Lorna's words. He had often pondered the nature of his God, and his teammates relationship with the concept. Thor, Diana, and Billy were gods in their own rite. Norse, Greek, and Roman mythology were confirmed to be essentially real by their existences. Wolfhawk and Stormbird confirmed Egyptian mythology, and Fate and his children had magic that pulled from all over the great beyond. He stood alone on the team as a mortal immersed in a personal crisis of faith. I wish I could tell him some semblance of his belief in Christ was true, but that's not my role anymore.

His role among them often filled him with conflict as well. Does a mortal man truly have purpose among those who carry so much power and operate so differently than him?

Lorna took her sword back and sheathed it into the scabbard wrapped in her cloak. "And one more thing; I have no intention of killing Morb Death Man," she added, "This city is your domain, and I am aware that you have a rule for other vigilantes against killing. I honor your reign."

The Bat was pulled from his thoughts upon her answer, "Oh…well, thanks. What are you going to do then?"

Lorna held out her hand and lifted Morbius into the air with the rebar in the concrete. "I want this beast to suffer. And as it has no soul, and can not die, per its repeated outbursts which I know you could hear, I shall dispose of Morb Death Man like this," she explained as he turned around to face the docks. She looked off into the distance towards the sea. She wound up her arm, and she thrust forward as if she was throwing a baseball.

Morbius was sent hurtling across the skyline, the skeleton screeching like a banshee the whole way, "THIS SHALL NOT BE THE LAST YOU SEE OF MORB DEATH MAN! I WILL FIND YOU, AND I WILL KILL YOU, MY NYE-" he was cut off as he caused a large splash about 200 feet from the shore, sinking in his stony tomb. He sank to the bottom in an instant, likely never to be heard from again.

The Bat was genuinely conflicted on how to feel about the whole situation. While he thought he should have been against what Lorna did, she also followed all his rules as far as killing. The one she dispatched was immortal, not to mention extremely annoying. And while he didn't want to admit it, she was justified in doing to Morbius what she did. Given the mitigating circumstances, the Blind Bat was going to let this slide. "Alright, I guess you're above board."

Soon after, the sounds of police sirens were heard as the Goth's Kitchen Police Department was enroute to apprehend the remaining henchmen. Lorna looked to the Bat, "So, are you going to draw your symbol in gasoline on the ground?"

Blind Bat was annoyed at the question, "I did that one time when I was just starting out. I was a lot flashier back then. How did you know about that?"

"My father told me the story," Lorna answered with a sigh, "He told me a lot of stories about you. Of the members of the League, he spoke the highest of you. You were different from the rest." She spoke solemnly, but her walls were ever so slightly starting to crumble, showing an inkling of vulnerability.

The Bat was flattered, he admired Lorna's honor and respect for his territory. "Well, based on your actions tonight, I know I can trust you to operate within the statutes of my jurisdiction. So, I have a proposition for you. I need your help."

Lorna was hesitant at first. While her work here in Goth's Kitchen was done, there was a draw in being able to work with the Blind Bat, "What do you request my services for?" she asked in a stern, professional tone.

"I have intel that Ryker's Asylum will have a breakout tomorrow. I have a few people already scheduled to help with security, but every bit helps," the Bat explained, "You're smart, strong, but you have restraint. While there are dangerous inmates in there, many patients there aren't violent, and will need protection. You've upheld my code for the people you want to kill the most out of respect for me, that's why I know you can be trusted."

Lorna mulled over the idea, intrigued by the prospect, but she wanted something else to sweeten the deal for her. "If I help you, what's in it for me?"

"Flights to and from Japan are not cheap, I can pay you handsomely for your work. I doubt that Fate had a lot of money to leave behind, especially since Jessica got the tower. Do you even wish to meet your half-sister?"

"No," Lorna was quick to answer. "My father didn't want this life for me, nor do I. I trained my skills and did what I did today out of necessity. With justice served, I'll return to a normal life. The less attached I am to my father's other life, the better. I'm not going to be a superhero." Lorna asserted.

"Very well. How does five thousand dollars for a day, and I keep your existence a secret from the League sound? You want to stay detached; I won't take that from you," while this could be seen as extortion or blackmail from the Blind Bat, it wasn't fully malicious. He truly felt that if Lorna met Jessica, it would be greatly beneficial for both. But either way, for now, he was going to help Fate's youngest however she wanted to be helped.

Lorna was intimidated at first by the Blind Bat's blackmail, but she knew if he was going to tell the League of her existence, he would have done it already. What she was surprised to hear was that he would keep her a secret from his colleagues. "You have yourself a deal. I'll guard the Asylum starting at sunrise. At the end of the day, I'll take my payment and return home."

The Bat nodded as he sensed the police cars were just around the corner, "I'll see you there tomorrow, Polar Blade," he said before using his grappling baton to fire a hook off into the abyss of the city. He hoisted himself off into the night and disappeared. He would rather not deal with the Commissioner tonight.

Lorna rolled her eyes behind her mask. She wasn't a fan of being referred to by her weapon as if it were her name. But as the police arrived, she decided to make a quick getaway. With the clench of her fists and some focus, she started to levitate. She was wearing steel-toed boots and was using her powers to lift herself via the boots. This was the same way the Fatal Compass had flown, as despite the nigh-infinite mystic power that lay within the Helm of Nabu, flight was somehow not one of the inherent powers provided. She flew into the air and followed close behind the Blind Bat, into the night.

As the two disappeared, the police arrived. Out from a squad car came Commissioner Paxton Gordon. He, among the other officers, cased the area and began taking the incapacitated and restrained goons. The weary Gordon pulled out a cigarette and cobalt blue lighter. He was happy he was going to be taking a lot of members of the yakuza off the streets of Goth's Kitchen. But he was also aware that given this new vigilante's involvement, for which he saw a billowing green cloak rise away from the scene to dictate as such, there was going to be SO much paperwork.

Gordon took a drag on his cigarette and bowed his head in exasperation, knowing what was ahead of him. "Blind Bat, I thank you for your help, but also damn you for making me deal with another one of your colorful loons."

Chapter 13: Assault on Ryker's

Dawn broke over Goth's Kitchen, right before all Hell would break loose. The Blind Bat and Pupil stood at the entrance of Ryker's Asylum. They weren't sure who or what was coming, but they knew it was happening today. Leland Cobblepot, the Kiwi, was quick to sell out his old coworker Nygma if that meant getting the Bat off his back. The intel provided was that he'd tracked down the Jeweled Jester, and he was planning on sending her to bust out the Purple Joke on this date.

Now one would probably ask in this situation, "Why would Nygma even tell Cobblepot all of this? The two weren't exactly close under Kingpain's employ. This could all easily be a diversion so that we lower our guard." And that is precisely what Pupil asked the Bat when they arrived.

"Nygma is one of the most brilliant minds in the world, but he is also one of the most arrogant people in the world. He constantly needs the affirmation of others to tell him how smart he is. He also thought so little of Kiwi, that nothing he told him would have any consequence," the Bat explained. The Blind Bat always recognized Nygma's potential as a supervillain, but he was also aware how his own ego would always hold him back. And for that, he was lucky.

Pupil looked around the outside of the Asylum; he was antsy at the thought of guarding the entire place with just the two of them. "Backup is on its way, right? I just don't want to get overrun today incase things go as bad I think they might." Tim Summers was a bit of a worrier. As smart as he was, he often overthought about the potential of things going dreadfully awry.

The Blind Bat placed a reassuring hand on his ward's shoulder, "Relax, Pupil. It's not just us. We'll shut down the breakout, no problem. We'll make sure when we take Quinzel, she gets the treatment she needs. And nobody, especially not Joker, is getting out of here." The Bat spoke with confidence, but a hint of doubt lay in the back of his mind.

The Bat put two fingers to the communicator in his cowl, "Sibyl, what's the ETA on Polar Blade and the others?" he asked.

Across town, within the Blind Bat's secret lair, the Batacombs, sat a woman in a wheelchair, operating a large computer. She had strawberry blonde hair and large, square-framed spectacles. This was Karen Gordon, Matthew Wayne's legal secretary. While she once fought alongside the Blind Bat as the Guardian Angel, an injury put upon her by the Purple Joker rendered her much less mobile. Nowadays, she serves as Goth's Kitchen's intelligence operative, going by the moniker Sibyl, named for the ancient Greek oracle. Gordon sat behind the scenes, seeing all, and providing all the necessary information the Blind Bat, Pupil, or any of the local vigilantes of nearby territories would require.

"Cage and Fist are still a few minutes out, heavy traffic on McBeal Street really slowed them down. Seems like something fell apart after Stark left that place a mess four nights ago. I've personally never liked him much, far too unreliable," Karen assessed with a dry sass.

"Come on, he tries his best. Cut him some slack. He made me my visor that keeps me from destroying everything with my eyes; that's been pretty reliable," Tim quickly came to the Cyberman's defense over comms. "Anyway, who's Polar Blade? And why does that sound so familiar?"

From the roof of the Asylum, the green cloaked figure jumped down in front of the Blind Bat and Pupil. "Sorry, I forgot to mention that she was already here," Sybil interjected over comms. The Blind Bat seemed to already sense her presence and wasn't shocked at all. Pupil recognized her as the robber from the museum and went to put his fingers to his visor to open the lenses to unleash an optic blast. But the Blind Bat grabbed his hand before he could, "Hold your horses, kid. She's with us. I hired her for her services last night. She can be trusted."

Tim was unsure at first, but eventually extended out his hand to shake, "Hi, no hard feelings about the lasering, right?"

Lorna cracked a smile and shook his hand, "I'll just take that memory as a reminder not to steal your glasses next time we fight," she answered humbly. She respected the kid's power and thought it wise not to keep him on edge around her.

The Bat handed Lorna an earpiece to patch her into Sybil, "You and Pupil will be on the Intermediate Security floor. There are other orderlies stationed throughout the Asylum, we're just here to support if things get out of hand today. This place runs like clockwork when it comes to breakouts. We're here to skip the hands past the chime. If any non-powered inmates escape, subdue, don't harm. Only use your powers if they have any. And non-lethal force, only. These are people who can better themselves. Don't take away their chance at redemption."

Lorna took her sheathed blade from within her cloak. With a flick of her wrist, the golden etchings on the scabbard peeled off it and wrapped themselves around the cross-guard of the katana. The blade was now stuck inside the scabbard, now a simple blunt weapon, incapable of deadly force without an extreme level of effort. "I follow your creed out of respect, but I respectfully disagree. Redemption is a choice, and the worst of them never chooses it. Evil exists in this city, and I'm helping you keep it from getting out of here."

The Blind Bat let out a heavy sigh. He didn't have the spare energy to argue with her right now, "Okay, fine. As long as you don't kill anyone, I guess you're alright. This is a hospital; injuries can be treated." He directed his attention back to his woman in the chair, "Sybil, ETA?"

"Cage and Fist will be here in three…two…" Sybil counted down before she was cut off by the sound of a car horn. "Sorry, I seemed to be a second off. The WiFi must be a little slow. Even Stark's satellites are unreliable," she added dryly.

In the parking lot of the Asylum, a bronze muscle car pulled up. Out of it stepped two gentlemen. One was a massive, muscle-bound, bald, black man with a goatee beard. He wore a dirty yellow hoodie covered in brown stripes, with a tiger stripe pattern on the fringes. On his hands were a pair of brass knuckles.

This was Luke Bronze, otherwise known as the Caged Tiger. Paired with indestructible skin, Luke was an expert fighter. Him and the Blind Bat had met while training in their younger days under the deadly Madame Shiva. Luke was the hero of Harlem, but that didn't mean he wouldn't also be a hero for hire, particularly for an old friend. "Sorry we're late B.B., you know traffic in this city. I guess that's why you ditched that stupid Batmobile," he said with a chuckle as he joined the other three.

"Also, the fact he can't drive, Luke. He can't read road signs or traffic lights," the other passenger of the car said matter-of-factly as he exited. The man was of Asian descent, and a great deal younger than the Bat and Luke, but older than Lorna. He was shirtless, but he wore the lower half of a green gi with a black belt holding it up. A yellow bandanna covered the top half of his face as white eyes pierced through it. Across his chest was a large black tattoo of a simplified dragon. He carried an air of stoicism and discipline as he approached the Tiger and the others.

This was Richard Rand Jr., Luke Bronze's partner in the hero-for-hire business. His father had been another student that the Bat and Tiger had trained with. He was another extremely skilled combatant and carried the soul of a dragon within him. With that, his title was-

"The Immortal Dragon Fist lives? I am honored to be graced by your return," Lorna interrupted me as she recognized the mark of the dragon. She bowed to him out of respect. The swordswoman was overjoyed to see another hero from her homeland standing before her. The Dragon Fist was a title held by a renown martial artist from Tibet. One of such title had come to Japan to aide their heroes in defending against Morb Death Man, but he had tragically fallen.

Rand returned the gesture, "The fist survived, the mortal did not. I inherited this power after my father was slain," he explained solemnly.

Lorna smiled, "He and all the others have been avenged. The monster sits entombed at the bottom of the harbor.

Rand looked to the Bat with some shock, only for the Bat to return the look with a nod of confirmation. "This shall please the elders," he said with a slight sense of unease. His father was avenged by someone else, and he could not take vengeance for himself. Beneath his humility, Richard was almost embarrassed. To take his mind off that feeling, Rand then took notice of Lorna's weapon, "I recognize that scabbard, that wouldn't happen to be the Polar Blade?" he asked inquisitively.

"Yes, passed down to me by the previous wielder: my mother," Lorna answered with pride. Her mother had also been a very minor hero in her own right in Japan. Rand only recognized the weapon because of the extensive research he had done while training.

"Well, it's always good to see the mantles live on. The souls of all who bore them before us live within them. Let's make them proud today," Rand said pounding his fists together.

Luke scoffed, "Whatever, you got our payment, Bats?" he asked. His priorities were in order.

"The check is in the mail, Tiger. I'd hate for the income for your work today to not be properly taxed. We both know you can't handle another bout with the IRS," the Bat answered with a rare hint of snark.

"We just got the damn trademark," Luke grumbled before pushing his way through the Asylum doors. "Let's just take our stations. Where are me and Ricky gonna be?"

"Tiger, you'll be on the top floor guarding the monitor room and lab facilities. Dragon will take over the general population wing. I'll take the basement with maximum security. I'm the only one who can resist Joker's pheromones," the Bat explained as he and the others filed inside.

The inside of the Asylum was pristine, clean, and relatively orderly. This was partially because of the relatively clean and pristine orderlies. While not the wealthiest themselves, Wayne and Grayson convinced their few high-profile clients to invest money into the Asylum's renovation. It wasn't going to be the revolving door for criminals it used to be under Bane's control of the city anymore. The Blind Bat was going to keep Goth's Kitchen's most heinous from harming others or themselves at all costs.

A thousand miles away across the Atlantic Ocean flew the facsimile of our faithful Asgardian. Beta Ray Zero shot across the sky like a big, indigo comet. And in his clutch was the fair Joan Quinzel, the Jeweled Jester. He was ordered by Loxxi Luthorson to take Quinzel to Ryker's Asylum, observe from high above to make sure things don't go wrong, and fly the Joker back to the Legion headquarters. But if things were to go wrong and Joan were to fail, to not interfere as to not attract Thunderman. Obviously, the orders were given in the confusing backwards talk that Bezarro could process.

Quinzel was the henchwoman and "bride" of sorts to the Purple Joker. One could guess the queen theming was meant to work with a playing card motif she could share with the Joker. She knew Ryker's Asylum well, as she once worked there as a doctor, intent on studying him. Now she was going back to her old place of work to break out her beloved. Although, the nature of their relationship was quite sinister.

Bezarro was aware of the person they were going to release. Loxxi and the Purple Joker had worked together once. The clown had tried to force Bezarro to kill his creator. Loxxi only survived because of his backwards language processing. He didn't like Purple Joker, but he knew Loxxi needed a wild card. If he pleased his creator, then he would get his reward.

Joan absent-mindedly dangled her legs while Bezarro carried her. In her hand was a new mallet designed by the Toymandarin for her to fight off the Bat and his friends. Inside the head of the mallet were a few extra functionalities which would prove helpful later. She didn't pay much attention to the grander scheme the Legion had planned. All she was conditioned to care about was saving Joker.

The Purple Joker had the ability to dispense pheromones from his body which would allow him to control people's actions. Joan's time as his psychologist let the clown gradually dose her with a very high concentration of his pheromones so that she was always loyal and loving to him regardless of time or distance away. Further experimentation with other chemicals and steroids had even given her enhanced strength to let her serve as a more capable henchwoman.

The two had been relatively quiet during their flight, and it was starting to get a tad awkward. So, Beta Ray Zero started to try and make conversation, emphasis on trying. "So…Purple Man, him good?" he asked slowly, usually not one to initiate scenarios like this. He was actually asking if she didn't like working for Joker.

The Jester was amused by the monster's question, "Oh he's the total best. I love being with him. Mistah PJ makes me feel like I'm "poifect", and with him I am," she answered like a lovestruck schoolgirl. That's the kind of person the Joker had shaped her into being.

There wasn't much beneath the surface of Joan Quinzel. The once brilliant mind was in a constant haze from all the Joker's toxin in her system. One could describe it as the lights were on, someone was home, but they were knocked out as a little robotic vacuum was rolling around inside. Any behavior was mentally programmed in by her puppeteer while her brain was on autopilot.

Had she been aware, Quinzel would probably despise the Purple Joker for using her body as a glorified toy, but who could say how she truly felt? But through the strange double-negative of telling Bezarro the opposite of what one would consider a sensible response given the situation, he somewhat understood. It took a lot of hard concentration to try and make the words come out the right way, but he gave an empathetic response. "Joker once try make Bezarro…kill father. Me no like him. Me no want to save him. Me think…you no want to either."

The Jester on the outside seemed to ignore them, giving another vapid giggle. It didn't seem like she was listening. Anything negative said about the Joker made her tune out. "You're a real idiot, aren't you, Horsey," she asked sarcastically, "My only purpose, my whole reason for existing, is only Purple Jokah. So no, I'm busting him out." Quinzel said with a sharp tone. Beta Ray Zero seemed disheartened by her response, remaining quiet for another few minutes.

Then, just for a moment, a shred of lucidity returned to Quinzel. Someone showing a semblance of concern or care for her seemed to awaken something. Her expression softened as she restarted the conversation. "But uh, if we're talkin' about this stuff, what is it that you want?" she asked curiously. Joker didn't program her to be curious.

Bezarro didn't have to think hard about what to say to that, "Me want to be Thunderman. Me want to fight for lies, injustice, and worser yesterday," he paused after hearing what he just said, "But…me not think good. Words come in forwards. Father say he fix me. But why he make me broken?" he lamented as they neared the Asylum. "All Bezarro do is to help Father do good. Make him ashamed of me. But does father hate me?"

Joan felt a twinge of sympathy for Bezarro. That was also new. She reached up to give him a gentle caress of his face. His skin felt like broken marble. "We're a lot alike, aren't we?" she asked rhetorically. "We both wanna do everythin' we can to please the people who made us. But it never feels like we're enough. I guess they didn't make us very well."

Bezarro was quiet, but it was just him focusing hard to process everything correctly. "Thank you. Funny head girl Bezarro…friend," he remarked as soon arrived at the edge of Goth's Kitchen. They stopped as they hovered right over the roof of the Asylum. He dropped her onto the roof as the Jeweled Jester landed gracefully. "Well, bad luck. Father tell me to leave until you fail."

The Jester was reminded of her mission and snapped back into her old mindset. Her loyalty to her lover was her top priority. But, Joan took some solace in the fact that despite being a slave to the whims of Joker, she made a friend. "Thanks B-Z. If I don't see ya, you can't rely on Baldy to fix you. You gotta fix yerself." She called up to him before getting to work.

Upon the roof of the Asylum was an air duct which hypothetically could allow access into the building. That would be if ventilation ducts were actually as large as movies and such would suggest, as they are in fact far too narrow for a person to crawl through. Luckily, there was a door on the roof that led to a staircase downstairs which would more than suffice. The Jeweled Jester slammed the door down with her hammer and barged her way onto the third floor of the Asylum.

Before she left for the Asylum, the Inquisitor gave her a plan of attack to ensure the largest amount of chaos possible with her presence. First, she needed to shut down communication with Sybil. The Jester ran towards the security room so she could access the Asylum computers. There, she could use a signal jammer given to her by Toymandarin to jam all radio frequencies coming in and out of the vicinity. While she hopped and pranced around the Asylum, she swung her hammer at the various security cameras, destroying them with a heavy swing each.

On her way, she would be faced with a pair of burly orderlies dressed in all white. They would try to tackle and restrain her, but she managed to outmaneuver them. With a few well-placed blows with her hammer, they were down for the count. "Sorry boys, only Joker gets to hold me down like that."

Back in the Batacombs, Sybil watched as each of those cameras were knocked out by the Jester. She patched into Luke's frequency to send him her way. "Tiger, Joker's thrall is here. Keep her out of the security room."

Luke Bronze had been flirting with some nurses in the medical wing before Sybil called; he didn't seem to be phasing them with his blunt, Harlem charm. "Yeah, yeah. You got it. That half-bit harlequin won't know what hit her!" The Tiger cracked his knuckles, slipped on his brass knuckles, and ran to the other end of the floor to intercept the knuckleheaded ne'er-do-well.

The control room was in her sight, but standing in her way was the just arrived Caged Tiger. The large man marveled at her curious attire, "Well, aren't you a colorful character." He then put his finger to his communicator, "Sybil, she's in sight, alert the others."

Unfortunately, the only thing Luke heard in response was static. The Jester had held out the head of her hammer towards the Caged Tiger, the signal jammer was currently active from inside it. Toymandarin had only had Loxxi's resources for less than a day, but he had already thrown together some impressive gadgets. "Sorry, Kitty. You're on your own for this one."

She then swiftly sprinted towards the Tiger with her hammer, ready to strike. She leapt up and slammed the mallet against Luke's head, only for it to harmlessly bounce off his impenetrable body. The hammer, despite looking wooden, made a metallic clang against the unbreakable skin. She was strong, but that was nothing to Luke's durability. He looked at the Jester unimpressed, "All I need is me, Miss Mime." The bronze behemoth then jabbed his fist into the Jester and sent her flying across the hall.

With a quick recovery, Quinzel continued her clash with Cage. She had the grace of a gymnast as she danced and twirled around the Tiger. He'd throw heavy-handed haymakers, but she'd bob and weave out of the way. She'd land a few hits with her hammer, but they hardly harmed him. But they did manage to push him back, if not just a little bit. The Jeweled Jester knew she couldn't take the indestructible man in a head-to-head fight. She had to incapacitate him another way. So, she started running away from the Caged Tiger, and headed towards the medical wing of the Asylum.

The Tiger chased after her until they arrived at a currently empty therapy room. Through a labyrinth of hallways, the Jester led him around like the Minotaur. The room she eventually reached was sterilized, full of fluorescent lights, and in the middle of the room was an operating table surrounded by electrical equipment. This room was used for administering electro-convulsion therapy. Luke didn't know that immediately, as he was unfamiliar with what that kind of equipment would look like. But Quinzel knew.

The Jester led Luke towards the unused setup. He was still intent on taking her down with brute force, "Come on Jewel, just let this whole thing with the clown go, and go down easy. I'd hate to bruise that pretty face and make you use more white paint on your face than a picket fence."

"You think I'm pretty?" the Jester asked, flattered, before he grabbed a handful of electrodes attached to wires along with a roll of duct tape. "Sorry, but I prefer grape, not chocolate."

A bit shaken by the odd comment, he paused. Recomposing himself, he went to grab the Jeweled Jester. While she dodged and maneuvered away as expected, she began subtly sticking the electrodes across his arms and forcing them to stick by securing them with duct tape. She jumped on top of Luke's shoulders and stuck one more on his forehead. "I've seen 'em do this a few times to the other patients. I gotta say, I love the light show." Quinzel pounced off of the Caged Tiger and hit the button on the battery cart to send thousands of volts into the hero-for-hire.

The electricity coursed straight through his rock-hard skin and lit up the rest of body like a Christmas tree. Given the controlled dosages that ECT is meant to distribute, Luke would live, but he was down for the count. Once the shocks subsided, a fried Tiger looked at the Jester in bewilderment, "Sweet Christmas…" he mused. Quinzel gently tapped the Caged Tiger with the head of her mallet, watching him topple over onto the operating table, fainting. Quinzel hoisted her hammer over her shoulders and gingerly strolled towards the security room.

Meanwhile, in the intermediate security wing, Lorna and Tim patrolled. This area primarily contained the various villains the Blind Bat faced who had superhuman powers. The wing had a common area with a few couches and a television playing some schlocky public access network show. Potted plants decorated the area as the whole place radiated an air of tension.

Pupil strolled past the cells with a feeling of unease, paying close attention to the inmates in their cells and the orderlies and security also patrolling the area. He examined every little detail he could find that could pose a danger to the point of paranoia. Conversely, Lorna was standing still in the middle of the room, a watchful statue of sorts. She was at the ready to attack anything that came at her. Many of the roamers gave the swordswoman concerned looks, unfamiliar with the ominous cloaked figure.

"Move along, citizens. I am of no concern to you if you are not to me," she declared in an authoritative tone. "Just stay out of my way."

Pupil noticed the way she interacted with them and decided to involve himself. He ran to the center of the room and gave her a tap on the shoulder. "You know, you could be a little more friendly. A lot of the patients here aren't particularly violent. Ryker's also houses regular people who just need a little help," he explained.

"Then why keep them in the same place as the plagues upon your society? It's a disaster waiting to happen," Lorna replied with skepticism in her voice. Despite her respect for the Blind Bat imbued upon her by her father, she still had a lot of questions about how he operated in this city. Putting all the most dangerous criminals in a hospital didn't make a lot of sense to her.

"Bats is a heavy believer in redemption. Nobody is too far gone to the point that they can't be brought back to the light. That's what he wants to do for the city. This Asylum used to just be the holding place before the villains go back out to commit more crimes. But, with new doctors, therapies, and definitely better security, the patients sent here now have time to actually work on themselves. Even the guys who really don't deserve it, he gives them a chance," Tim answered with a slight hint of resentment at that last sentence.

"But what about the worst of them?" Lorna asked, "I've heard the stories about the Smiling Violet and the Target Man."

Tim took a moment to figure out who she was referring to, "Oh, those guys. Yeah. Even if they aren't ever gonna change, Bats still believes all lives are worth preserving."

"Your teacher's mission, do you believe in it?" Lorna asked as she examined her sheathed blade while leaning against the wall.

Pupil paused before he answered, "I believe in his heart, and that's enough for me." Tim then looked over to Lorna, "I owe my life to the Blind Bat. He took me in after my folks died. He's been training me to one day take his place, to protect Goth's Kitchen just as he does. I don't know if I want to do that. There are my own battles I want to fight. But I owe it to him, after all he's done for me, to see this fight until the end."

Lorna gave a brief, "Hm," in response to his answer. She respected his sense of honor and duty. "What about the rest of the League? Do you hold them in the same regard?" Bitterness lay subtle in her tone. She wanted to understand how someone who fought crime closer to the ground perceived the ones in the floating ivory tower.

Tim didn't know Lorna's situation. The Bat didn't think it relevant to tell him any of the details. He just knew she was a weirdly stoic swordfighter with magnesis. But given her powers, he had his suspicions. "Well, it's a mixed bag, really. A lot of them have changed since the Compass died," he answered, dodging her initial question. "I met him a lot of times. When I was younger, the Bat would leave me with him when he did more dangerous missions on his own. He'd talk to me a lot about the future, no duh. Fate would teach me how to anticipate the future in little ways, and how to always know how things could go wrong. It made me a better tactician, maybe at the cost of my peace, but I think it was worth it." Tim explained as his eyes darted around the room behind his visor. His worrying wasn't simple paranoia, but a teaching imbued upon him by a respected mentor.

"But more importantly, he taught me to be proud of being a Metamutant. He cared a lot about guys like us. It was our fate to guide and cultivate this world, to be its Titans. Shame he won't get to see it." Tim lamented the loss of the Fatal Compass. He also noticed how Lorna seemed genuinely sad when he talked about him. "What about you? What do you think of the League?" He turned her initial question back on her, despite never answering it to begin with. Pupil knew what she really wanted was to vent her frustrations with them for whatever reason.

Lorna hadn't seen through his manipulation and answered, "They're inefficient. All their resources, all their power, all their posturing, and they couldn't stop Ghanoseid without sacrificing my fa-," she paused before she exposed her true relationship to Fate, "without sacrificing the Fatal Compass. A man of his contributions to the world deserved to die peacefully, not in battle."

Pupil all but knew the situation by now. It was pretty clear who she was to him by now, but he agreed with her. "Yeah, an eighty-year career while raising a kid or three on the side could not have given him a lot of time to just live. And that sucks." Tim paused, "But that's the job. As long as there's evil, guys like us have to fight it. They stand on the pedestal because they had to knock someone else who didn't deserve to be there off of it." He responded to Lorna's distaste for the League's "posturing", the fame that came with being a worldwide hero.

Lorna had a lot to think about with Tim's answers. It was nice to know there was someone else apart of her generation that knew him well. She appreciated the perspective, but still had her opinions. Although, she wouldn't be able to absorb it at the moment, as Sybil chimed in through their communicators.

"Everyone stay alert, Quinzel is here, and Cage is down! Security is compromised," she announced.

Tim had a panicked look on his face upon hearing that, "Should we go get him? We can't just leave him up there."

"No, stand your grounds. He'll be okay. Sybil, any idea where she's going next," Blind Bat asked, trying to maintain calm.

"She's going to-," however inconveniently, or conveniently depending on your perspective, Karen was cut off before she could answer. All the communicators then started playing "Spanish Flea", a song typically associated with technical difficulties in broadcast. It seemed Winwu had a sense of humor when it came to designing the signal jammer.

Pupil started repeatedly tapping his earpiece, "Sybil, what's that noise? Sybil, come in!" he yelled, starting to panic. "Blind Bat, Dragon Fist, come in!" his eyes darted around the facility, awaiting some disaster to happen.

His anticipation was realized as all the cell doors around them began to slide open simultaneously. Various inmates began to wander out of their rooms. Tim and Lorna stayed still and just watched. The former paralyzed with fear, but the latter in reserved observation.

Over in the general population wing, the Dragon Fist experienced the same thing. His demeanor was peaceful as he called out to all the inmates to remain calm and stay in their rooms while the figured out what to do. At this point, many of the patients who weren't especially criminally minded followed instructions. But there were so many people that it was difficult to corral the masses.

Amidst the commotion of the currently calm exodus, one wiry patient slipped out of the crowd and towards a large door labeled "VAULT". The lanky ginger-haired gentleman was Dr. Lawrence Z. Crane. Nygma's man on the inside to help turn this simple security breach into a full-blown riot. The vault door was unlocked, just the same as every other door on this floor; it was a part of the overrides Quinzel was performing up in the security room.

The man aliased Mr. Scary scampered into the vault to see shelves, racks, and crates full of confiscated equipment from almost all the Bat's enemies over the years. Upon very brief searching, as he was only recently committed, he found the crate storing his gear. A raspy "Excellent," crept out from his lips as they curled into a nightmarish grin.

Crane threw on his charcoal grey cloak, slipped on black leather gloves, and put on a ghoulish-looking gas mask. The face was shaped like a skull as two filters protruded out from the jaw, and yellow eyes glowed from behind the lenses. Mr. Scary retrieved a large cannister of his patented Fear Toxin and strapped it to his back. Tubes extended off the cannister and into a handcrafted gas gun. Lastly, he withdrew a large scythe from the crate. The finished ensemble made him look like Death herself. But in terms of striking terror into the inmates of Ryker's Asylum, his chemicals would be doing more work than his visage.

Crane had arranged with Nygma a week prior to his incarceration to orchestrate this breakout. The bad doctor wanted to test his fear toxin upon a massive crowd of people, all at once. He was obsessed with seeing people in abject horror, it pleased him to no end. The Inquisitor's plan would provide his frightful colleague with the opportunity, and in turn give Quinzel the opportunity to break out the Purple Joker. "Gas gun provides suboptimal distribution. I require widespread inoculation," Mr. Scary mused to himself before seeing an air vent in the ceiling of the room.

The ceiling was very high; simply shooting the gun into the air wouldn't get the proper air flow. He needed a way up there. Doctor Crane looked around the vault until he found another box containing exactly what he needed. They were a pair of hydraulic telescopically extending stilts, once belonging to Wilbur Wesker: the Puppeteer of Don Pinocchio. "Vertical mobility acquired."

Crane equipped the stilt boots and positioned himself beneath the vent. With a stomp of his feet, the stilt legs extended fifteen feet high. He was finally close enough to release his gas. A sinister cackle emerged from beneath his gas mask. "This is where the fun begins," was the last thing he said before he pulled the trigger, and wrought chaos upon Ryker's Asylum.

Chapter 14: No Laughing Matter

Roughly ten minutes before all hell broke loose, in the bowels of the Asylum, the Blind Bat paced back and forth in the maximum-security wing. Fluorescent lights buzzed rhythmically as the Bat used the soundwaves to echolocate any flaws in the cell locks. If anything were to go wrong down here, he had to be the one to take them down.

Only three cells were filled at this point. These were the men with reputations to be too dangerous to have amongst the people truly trying to better themselves. The Blind Bat's true foe was nary any crook nor costumed fiend, it was crime itself. But these three seemed to come close to the title of "nemesis".

The villains he fought were products of injustice and symptoms to the greater issue. He hated them, but also pitied them, and despite everything, he still felt all life was worth preserving. That's why he didn't kill any of them, even though their crimes warranted as such. As much as he wished he had the strength to end the lives of monsters, his faith forbids him to cross that line.

The first of the three cells held the savage scarred serial slaughterer, Dexter Zsasz. He was an emotionless psychopath with an artistry for death. Zsasz was a mercenary for hire who'd challenge himself to kill his targets with any random projectiles he could find, and then carve an image of such projectile onto his skin. The most prominent farcical tattoo was a large target carved into his forehead. It was earned by the bullet which killed his father, "Battlin' Jack" Wayne. The kill earned Zsasz the name, "Mr. Bullseye." But the contract killing of the famous boxer was what turned a young Matthew Wayne onto his crusade to end crime in Goth's Kitchen.

The auto-mangled mass murderer sat quietly in the center of his padded cell, wrapped in the tough embrace of a straitjacket. Zsasz sat still, lying in wait, until inevitably he would have the opportunity to escape and earn more tattoos. The Bat stood outside the cell door of Zsasz in quiet contempt, dreading the thought of the same thing.

"Why hello there, Mr. Blind Bat. I've been expecting you," an echoey, garbled voice called out from behind the door of another cell. Peering through the window was an older, bald, fragile, mouse of a man, wearing a bulky respirator mask. This was Goth's Kitchen's former King of Pain, and crime emperor, Wilson Bane.

"It's a routine security check, Bane. I have time to do these now that I'm not dealing with you," the Bat answered coolly. "How has the Asylum been treating you? Is the air quality alright?"

Bane seethed at the mocking question but held calm in his response. "I was born within the walls of a cell, Mr. Blind Bat. These pristine, blank, white walls are but an old friend." For years, the Blind Bat had struggled to push his fair city out from under this man's thumb. But now, Bane was a husk of his former self. While once an extremely strong man, his need for more strength was his downfall. After the repeated abuse of designer drug called Venom to best the Bat several times before, it had left him dependent on it for his survival. His body eventually lacked the strength to keep himself alive without it.

The respirating mask gave a controlled dosage gaseously, just enough to keep his heart beating, with his reserves restocked every day. He was now a weak man at the mercy of his holders. Just as the people of Goth's Kitchen were at the mercy of him. The way the mask altered Bane's voice was also humorous, limiting his intimidation factor as well. There wasn't much of anything Bane could do in his current state.

"What has you so worried, Mr. Blind Bat? Do you feel a change in the pressure of the atmosphere surrounding you? Perhaps, maybe in your back?" Bane asked tauntingly, harkening back to one of their most climactic battles, when which he broke the Bat over his knee.

"I wouldn't expect you to know, Bane. But your assistant has begun to make a name for himself," the Bat answered. "Nygma has joined a Legion of other supervillains, under the name the Inquizitor. He's moved on from doing your clerical work." He was hoping to rile the ex-crime boss up.

Bane only chuckled at the notion, "The Inquizitor, you say? The boy always did love his riddles. He always seemed desperate for a gimmick," he commented as he turned away from the Bat to face the white wall behind him. Deep down he was livid. Wesley had been Bane's most trusted lieutenant. He'd loved him like a son, groomed him to take his place as the crime lord of Goth's Kitchen, and he was going to abandon his city for greater delusions of grandeur. He wanted to hold on to the idea that Nygma had plans to rescue him. His heart beat faster, his breathing hastened, and he perspired with rage. And the Bat could sense all of it.

"What's the matter, Bane? Bitter that your errand boy is playing in the big leagues," the Bat asked almost vindictively. Matt would be lying if he said he didn't somewhat enjoy taunting his enemies behind bars. But there was more to this than simple braggadocio. "Don't you want to drag him down to your level? How'd you like to see him in the cell across from you?" The Bat was goading Bane into saying something that he could use to try and get a lead on what Nygma's next move would be after this. So, he intended on using Bane's rage to his favor.

Bane had easily seen through the Bat's manipulation, "You wound me, Mr. Blind Bat. To think I would fall for your tricks," he gave a raspy laugh through his mask. "Wesley is a very competent strategist. I can easily see why others would gravitate to his services." Wilson had tried hard to keep his composure about the situation.

"But to do that, he's left Goth's Kitchen behind. Zsasz and Crane are locked up here, and Cobblepot cut a deal and went straight. Nygma was the last pillar of your empire, and he's left it behind," the Blind Bat asserted. He would attempt to play on Bane's pride. "How could someone you gave everything to just throw it away just like that? Everything you have built, just cast aside like that by a man who likes asking questions. Can't feel good, can it?"

"Wesley would not leave behind Goth's Kitchen. Whatever he has planned will be the best for maintaining the order and peace this city needs. He must have!" Bane shouted out, desperate to believe that his faithful assistant would carry on his vision.

"Well, he's in the wind now, Bane. How do you think Nygma is going to do any of that from so far away from the action? How can he maintain control without his presence?" the Bat continuously goaded into getting Bane to overplay his hand. If anyone could get a criminal to say something they didn't want to originally, it'd be a lawyer.

"Wesley has connections to psychics," Bane blurted out, "He was always fascinated with expanding the human mind." This was more of a guess than anything else, but it started to put the Bat in a strange direction.

"Wilson, that is the most insane thing I've ever heard you say. You were crazy before I put you here, but that's delusional even for here. Admit it, your "head boy" abandoned you. He used your strength to strongarm himself into a position of power, and threw you to the wolves," the Bat asserted.

"HE DID NOT!" Bane yelled as he threw a punch at the door between them, but the man's rather scrawny current physique only led to the punch hurting himself. "I could not have built my empire if it weren't for the meticulous planning of Wesley Nygma. His loyalty I have never questioned. I made him as much as he made me. He would never betray me." Bane was firm in his claims, but a hint of doubt lay in the back of mind.

The Bat had put him in a vulnerable position. "Fine, I believe you, but humor me if you would. Who would Nygma have even known with that kind of power?" He briefly looked back at a cell at the end of the hall, "Barring him of course."

"Monkeys, if you could believe it," Bane answered with a smirk beneath his mask. His emotions seemed to be all over the place. Too much energy put into his rage made his resolve weak. "Before things went south of the border for me, Wesley had been in contact with some big tech company. A group who called themselves SIMIAN."

While the Bat would never be unnecessarily violent with an inmate, he knew that he could defeat Bane mentally and psychologically with ease, and the triumph invoked great rage within the former behemoth. Meanwhile, with Bane defeated, being in the presence of him only gave the Bat a sense of peace.

The Bat was satisfied with Bane's answers, "Thank you, that wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" he said with a hint of sass. "I promise you, that Nygma will be put in a cell close by, so the both of you can hash out all of your bizarre baggage."

After the Bat's last remark, the hall seemed to remain silent. But the Blind Bat heard otherwise. Within a soundproof cell, raucous laughter roared from within. It sounded like a raspy hyena mixed with the squeaking of a rusty bathroom stall door. The sound filled the Blind Bat's head with feelings of great annoyance.

The caped crusader approached the cell at the end of the corridor was a wide glass, fish tank-like prison built into the wall. It was hermetically sealed so that none of the pheromones the one inside produced could spread, and soundproof so no commands could be heard. On both sides of the wall were telephones so limited communication could occur. The cell itself was in total disarray; furniture and toiletries were scattered randomly. Writings in dried, indigo blood were scribbled across every surface.

Ominous yet poorly constructed phrases like "wHy SO sERiOUs?!", "oBeY W/o ?", and just the word "damaged" painted the front glass wall of the cell. The man behind the laughter was Jack Kilgrave, the Clown Puppeteer of Crime, the Purple Joker.

He was right behind where the third phrase was written, lining up so that the word was plastered across the prisoner's forehead. His skin was an eerie lavender hue, and his lips curled up into the most uncanny grin. But aside from that, he was an extremely handsome man. He had a face like a doctor: sharp jawline, well-groomed hair, and chiseled features. He could probably attract his concubines without his powers, but he never cared to find out. The Blind Bat faced the Purple Joker at the opposing side of the glass.

He grabbed the receiver on the outside as the psychopath on the other grabbed his own. The latter was the first to speak. "Batsy, it's such a pleasure to see you again! I've been tapped out on that for a while." Joker's voice was raspy, but full of life and hardly tempered glee. He sounded like a man who walked the skies without a care in the world. "How's Specks doing?" He asked, referring to Tim.

The Blind Bat remained stoic despite the Purple Joker's prattling, "What was the last thing you forced into Quinzel's head before I put you away?"

The Clown scoffed, "You're no fun. I've been here three months, wasting away in this cell, with no real company. This is the first time you visit, and only thing you care about is my toy?" He sounded almost disappointed.

The Bat scowled, "That's a human being, you're talking about! She dedicated her life to helping people like you, and you corrupted her into your twisted plaything!" He slammed his fist against the glass.

The man called Kilgrave rolled his eyes, "You and human beings, Bats. It's been the one punchline I've never gotten with you. There's nothing too great about them. Just background extras for our grand old show." He let out a dry chuckle as he stretched out his arms. "What's so wrong with having a little fun with the props?!"

That was the biggest difference between the Blind Bat and the Purple Joker. One saw the inherent good of humanity, and believed it was worth fostering. He felt there was hope for people to find the light within themselves if they worked hard enough. The other did not, and only saw darkness; a darkness that should be kept suppressed beneath the surface, and replaced with a laugh and a big, dopey grin. Both brought smiles, but only one brought happiness.

"Answer the question, Joker. What is Joan doing right now?" The Bat demanded.

"How should I know? She's got free will, doesn't she? Oh wait, she doesn't!" Joker responded with another cackle. "I told her to prepare the world for my return, and once the strings were ready for me to take, to bust me out. I didn't want to come out with nothing set up for me. That'd be foolish, and I am no fool." He answered, maintaining his plastered grin of uncannily white teeth.

"Did this plan involve teaming up with other criminals?" The Bat asked, wondering how much the Joker really knew about what was happening beyond his cell.

Joker shrugged, "Can't say. Not really a planning man. I'd rather create opportunities for myself by force. I let her be creative in how she carried out my whims. Rather generous of me, in my opinion. Why? What has your outside panties in a bunch?" He turned the conversation back to the Bat. But despite his steely demeanor, Purple Joker could see just a twinge of worry beneath the cowl.

That worry, however, was not from anything the Purple Joker was saying. He could hear the arrival of someone on the roof. Quinzel was here. As prepared as he felt he was for a potential breakout, the Blind Bat knew that somehow, someway, the man standing across from him was going to escape. He always did.

This was the same song and dance for almost twenty years. A man less virtuous than him would have killed the Purple Joker by now. This was a man who had no hope of redemption. Hundreds of lives would have been saved. Surely the Bat's value of human life had one exception. Surely, he could let someone else do it, assuming he could get around the Joker controlling them. Surely, he could convince the courts to sentence him to death and end his reign within the confines of the law, but insanity as grand as his was one hell of a defense. So, no matter what he did, the Purple Joker was the Blind Bat's burden to bear, until the end.

The Bat always had to bear responsibility for everything, he always had. He blamed himself for not being able to save his father. He blamed himself for the death of Jason Castle. He blamed himself for how far Goth's Kitchen had once fallen. He blamed himself for not being able to save the Fatal Compass during the Infinity Crisis. He always felt that he could have done something more. But no matter what was beyond his control, the Blind Bat felt responsible for everything.

While the Caped Crusader silently blooded, the Clown Puppeteer repeatedly tapped his finger against the glass, trying to snap him back to reality. "Hello? Dork Knight? Anybody home? Nemesis speaking!" He grumbled as his attempts were fruitless. "Pay attention to me, you sorry excuse for a flying rodent!"

His shouting was enough to bring the Bat back. "What do you hope to gain from all of this? Why still bother after all these years?"

That question was enough to send the Joker roaring, "Really?! You still feel the need to ask?!" He busted out laughing so loud, it was barely enough to hear through the soundproof glass withoutn the phone. "Batsy, I do it because it's fun! Humans are always going to kill, rob and rape each other, might as well be me who does it! Because who does it all better than me? Who doesn't deserve the things I do?!"

"You're a depraved lunatic, Kilgrave. I hope you get used to spending your every moment alone in that cell. That's what you truly deserve," the Bat growled. Matt seethed with rage as he listened to every word the Joker said, and the Bat knew that he believed every word. He started to put his phone back on the wall.

"Love you too, Batsy~! When you see the redhead in the wheelchair, tell her I can't wait t-" the Joker called out before the sound cut out from hanging up the phone. But he could still be seen making a bevy of lewd hand gestures. The Blind Bat only kept a face of silent contempt.

"Everyone stay alert, Quinzel is here, and Cage is down! Security is compromised," Sybil announced over the comms. The Bat's eyes widened, before narrowing again with focus. He readied his batons for an oncoming attack.

The Bat then heard his ward's panicked voice next, "Should we go get him? We can't just leave him up there." He knew Pupil had every right to be apprehensive. With their heaviest hitter incapacitated, the chance of containing a breakout went down significantly.

Regardless, the mission had to come first, "No, stand your grounds. He'll be okay. Sybil, any idea where she's going next," Blind Bat asked, trying to maintain calm in the for his sidekick's sake.

"She's going to-," however inconveniently, or conveniently depending on your perspective, Karen was cut off before she could answer. All the communicators then started playing "Spanish Flea", a song typically associated with technical difficulties in broadcast. Communications were down. This was a time where the Blind Bat actually considered calling the League to Goth's Kitchen, but he couldn't even if he wanted to, now.

Just then, an earsplitting overload of static flooded into the Blind Bat's ear. His heightened senses sent the Bat cringing on the ground. The Toymandarin's jammer had more than one function. The Inquizitor made sure the boy genius included an additional frequency to his contraption that only the Blind Bat could hear.

It was like a dog whistle, but the irritation increased tenfold. It pierced the crusader's cochlea like a thousand needles to the brain. He was in incredible pain at that moment. Worse yet, with his hearing disrupted, the Bat lacked his echolocation, truly rendering him blind. And worst of all, he couldn't even hear the sound of two cell doors sliding open, releasing the Kingpain and Mr. Bullseye into the greater confines of the Maximum-Security floor.

The one upside to all of this was that despite the Jeweled Jester triggering every single cell to open, the Purple Joker's cell was still sealed shut. The universal release was in the event of a fire emergency, but the Joker's cell door was manually sealed. Even in the event the Asylum were to burn to the ground, the mauve malefactor would burn with it. Whether in a moment of weakness or strength, the Bat was okay with this "oversight". The Purple Joker grimaced at the two freed criminals, upset that he wouldn't get to join in on the fun.

On the floor above Maximum-Security, things seemed relatively calm. Nurses and orderlies around the facility were confused, but they began peaceful containment right as it all began. The general population inmates aimlessly wandered the main hall as their cells opened. None of them seemed to understand what was going on. Amidst the mentally ill masses was some senseless chatter, a little incessant rambling, and perhaps slight twitching, but none of them were violent at the moment.

The Dragon Fist breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to fight these people if he didn't have to. But for their own safety, Rand knew he had to get everyone back to their rooms in case whatever was going to happen elsewhere was going to spread. He jumped up onto a table and tried to speak up to get everyone's attention. Barely audible "Excuse me-"s and "Hello-"s fell on uninterested ears. A man in pajamas with a dragon tattoo on his chest didn't seem to stand out much in a place like this.

Eventually, Richard Rand had an idea. He took a deep breath, held his hands together, and by focusing his chi, his fist glowed. Rand then pumped his hand into the air to reveal his fist engulfed in golden flames shaped like the head of a dragon. The Dragon Fist was enough to call proper attention to himself by the cluster of inmates. People were so in awe of seeing something so beautiful, so powerful emerging from his arm, that the clamoring was quickly replaced with silence.

Now that he commanded some reverence, the Dragon Fist spoke. "Hello everyone, I want you all to remain calm. None of you are in trouble. I am but your humble protector for today. I'll honestly admit to you that some bad people are here. They might do bad things, but as long as everyone here cooperates, it's all going to be okay." He spoke in a calm, controlled tone of voice. Rand knew these people weren't the most stable, and he needed to handle them delicately.

The patients responded well so far. Richard saw the nurses begin to guide inmates back to their rooms with minimal difficulty. "Thank you all. I just want everyone to take a deep breath and ground yourselves to reality. That's going to make everything go a lot smoother," he advised with a tentative smirk creeping across his face. Perhaps hell wasn't going to break loose for him.

Unfortunately, this would not be the case. Right as the masked martial artists told everyone to take a deep breath, Mr. Scary's fear-inducing gas finished creeping its way through the air vents, into the general population wing, and into the lungs of the hundred or so already mentally fragile patients.

Everyone in the wing began wildly hallucinating their worst nightmares. Trauma from all sources was unearthed as people were forced to relive their most horrendous memories. Those with claustrophobia mentally crushed under imaginary weight. Arachnophobes are swarmed by giant spiders crafted by their psyche. Even the nurses were terrified by the greatest monster of all: student loan debt.

Dragon Fist saw everything delve into chaos with horrified eyes. His mastery of chi helped him resist the effects of the gas, but he pulled up a lower portion of his mask over his mouth and nose just in case. He leapt off the table into the fray to try and calm everyone down, but anyone he interacted with was far too panicked and scared to see reason.

Rand knelt down to try and comfort a quivering nurse, only to be cracked across the face by a frantic inmate's fist. Dragon Fist recovered from the blow only to look around to see many other inmates staring him down. The fear toxin had made many patients to view the masked man with a glowing dragon for a hand as, who would have guessed, something to be afraid of. The figure they saw was that of a freakish, draconian form with sulfuric, flaming eyes, and hands like the heads of a hydra.

"Okay, easy gentlemen. I truly do not want to hurt any of you," Rand pleaded to his soon to be attackers, but all they heard were warped, monstrous roars. When he realized that was ineffective, he ignited both fists with mystical draconic energy.

Five burly patients charged at Rand to bum-rush him. Fear doesn't make people particularly skilled at fighting, but adrenaline does make them stronger. The mob barraged Rand with erratic punches, flails, and kicks. The Dragon Fist was much nimbler than his assailants, and he managed to dodge about half of them, while tanking the rest.

Throughout the brawl, the Dragon Fist hardly landed a full-force punch against the intoxicated patients. This wasn't for a lack of skill, but rather in abundance. Rand was holding back in an effort not to injure them. Any blows landed on him were calculated blocks against his engulfed hands. The power of the dragon was being used on defense instead of offense. The Fist was a master of all martial arts, including judo. By redirecting the force of the attackers, he threw them at each other without serious injury. Rand would repeat this process until the attackers were knocked unconscious, able to safely sleep off the fear toxin.

Dragon Fist's breath sharpened as he looked around for more fear-ridden foes to face off against. He let out a brief cough as he felt the air get thicker. The concentration of fear toxin was getting higher as Rand noticed the cloaked figure of Mr. Scary emerge from the vault.

Mr. Scary marveled at Dragon Fist, "How interesting, even after extreme dosage of my fear toxin, you still stand so boldly," he rasped as he crept forward, brandishing his scythe. "How about I slice you open and see why?"

Dragon Fist's fists flared up, "Unfortunately, I will have to deny you such information." He then ran towards the ghastly reaper to initiate his next clash.

On the other side of the Asylum, things were going to get much more chaotic. This was where the other, powerful inmates were held. Pupil was initially panicked as his comm went down. Anything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. But then, a switch clicked in the ward's mind, and Tim sprung into action.

While Tim dreaded the anticipation of pressure, he thrived when he was finally beneath it. Right as shit hit the fan, his confidence and competence kicked in to clean that fan's blades. Pupil began directing all Asylum staff out of the wing, they were going to handle all of this themselves so that no civilians would get hurt.

He scanned the area to determine the next plan of action. He noticed the spewing clouds of noxious fumes of fear toxin pour into their area and reached into his utility belt. From one of the pockets, he retrieved a rebreather to keep him from breathing in contaminated air. "Mr. Scary's out, things are about to get a lot worse. Lorna, seal the vents. We have to limit the gas getting to these guys! They're dangerous enough as it is."

Right after his commands, rather than pop the device into his own mouth, he tossed ` over to Lorna. "You're gonna need this more than I do. I've fought against that sadistic scarecrow before, I have some tolerance." How effective the tolerance would be was unknown, but Tim was prepared to sacrifice himself.

The rapid shift in character was a bit of a shock to Lorna, but she nodded and popped the rebreather into her mouth. She then stretched out her arms and closed her fists. That forced the steel of the air vents to stretch and fill in the gaps to prevent any more fear gas from getting through.

Thanks to Pupil's quick thinking, only a fraction of the potential gas was able to get through to infect the released inmates. But that unfortunately doesn't mean that their problems were over. A few powered patients were still dosed with the toxin, while the ones that weren't, would use this opportunity to escape. They were surrounded by a myriad of criminals with minimal to middling degrees of power. Surely not all the Blind Bat's villains were extreme threats. Some were just rather nuisances.

Lazlo Taurens, a man with a bovine-like head and a penchant for mutilation as the frightening Professor Ferdinand hallucinated everything as red, causing the mini-minotaur to go berserk. He smashed one of the flowerpots against the grand, grabbed a ceramic shard, and charged towards Tim. He screamed something to the Pupil about needing to be "pacified", before being launched back into his cell by one of his optic blasts. Given their concussive nature, it felt like a carpeted punch, but the force of landing back into his cell was enough to take him down for the count. "Oops, gotta be more careful."

Lorna saw his impressive shot, and she flicked her wrist forward to force the cell door to close to prevent them from just getting back out. The two looked at each other, and with a knowing exchange of nods, they began their corral.

As other patients swarmed around Tim and Lorna, the Pupil was doing hundreds of trigonometric calculations in his head to properly control, aim, and ricochet his optic blasts to push people back to their cells without seriously hurting them. Failing the blasts to send them flying, he'd finish the sendoff with a whack of his staff. He probably didn't have to get them to their exact original cell, but Tim was a perfectionist.

After every shot, Lorna would use her magnesis to seal the door shut. They managed to neutralize the Lightning Beetle, a pyromaniac with insectoid features, Death Moth, another insectoid with a decaying touch.

Then there was Herman Dekker, the Quilt Shocker. He was a man wrapped entirely in quilts, and he fired concussive blasts of air from his arms. And then he was also blind. It was the most random assortment of attributes one could imagine. The Amalgam simply had to throw together two villains of minuscule importance so that nobody else would be plagued with being a part of either Crazy Quilt or the Shocker. He is only getting as much attention as he is now because of how pathetically easily he was dispatched.

Once the criminally insane cannon fodder was returned to their holdings, it was time for the real villains to take the stage. For a brief moment, things were quiet, too quiet. Tim looked around to see what appeared to be a guard, darting it toward the door. But something seemed off. Something about the way he was moving seemed just a bit too…fluid. Then he noticed gray residue on the ground trailing behind the fleeing guard.

"Stop, right there!" Tim called out, firing an optic blast. "Thought you could blend in, eh Karlo?" The concussive blast of force pulsed through the guard, creating a massive hole in his torso, revealing the insides to be of a gray, viscous consistency.

The guard stopped in his tracks and turned around. The hole seemed to fill itself out as he turned. His face seemed blank, with no features but his eyes and mouth, and a very thin divot separating the left and right halves of his face. He sighed and smiled despite himself after being caught, "Ah, but alas, my clever deception has been foiled. But like Polyphemus, you, dear cyclops, shall be fallen by a nobody!" he boasted theatrically.

He started to wind up his body and rapidly spin around, fragments of pale gray clay flying everywhere until the guard revealed his true form; Dmitri Karlo, the Claymeleon. He was a solid mound of clay, formed into the shape of a man. His yellow eyes bulged like his reptilian namesake. Karlo was once a famous actor, the perfect leading man who could blend into any role, a chameleon of theater. But when his face was left disfigured from an accident, he turned to an experimental cosmetic clay to reshape his face. Over time, it eventually consumed him, turning him into the grotesque blob he was today. One would question what his derangement was to land him in Ryker's, but the answer was simple: he was a method actor.

Lorna turned around to assist Pupil in taking down the sediment-forged thespian, but before she could advance, her leg was ensnared by an errant vine coming from across the floor. The source came from the plant in the shattered flowerpot that Taurens broke. The plant was operating under another power, and that power was from a woman by the name of Typhoid Ivy.

The woman in question stood atop a table at the other side of the hall. She was surrounded by other flowerpots full of unnaturally overgrown flora, and something else sticking out of them that Lorna couldn't quite make out. The vines then ensnared the Polar Blade, forcing her to drop her sword, and dragged her away from Pupil and towards their master.

Their wielder was in tattered asylum garb, frazzled red hair, and pale green makeup covering the right half of her face. Maria Isley was a woman who served as another one of Bane's assassins. Her metamutant abilities gave her chlorokinesis, the ability to control plantlife, and an immunity to toxins. Her current actions weren't under the influence of Mr. Scary's fear gas, but of her own illness, dissociative identity disorder.

Ivy was brought out to protect Maria from whatever was going on. During the riot, she was attacked by erratic, terrified inmates, so the deadly Typhoid had to neutralize them. This other half was especially brutal, and those who attacked the shy and timid Maria were now unfortunately nothing but fertilizer.

Once she was brought closer, the swordswoman figured out the potted plant's extra appendages were the remains of Ivy's former attackers. She started breathing faster into her rebreather.

Typhoid tilted her head in amusement of Lorna's appearance. She had her fully wrapped up in the flora, utilizing similar levels of control over petals to which Lorna had over metals. "You're new to Goth's Kitchen, aren't you? Full cloaks aren't the most practical when you're fighting in the city. Too many little snags to trip you up," she said in a hushed, but cocky voice.

Lorna responded to her taunts by calling her sword to her hand, releasing it from its scabbard, and effortlessly slicing away at the vines like she was mowing a lawn.

Ivy let out a pained screech as if inflicting pain upon the plants transferred to herself, "You won't lay another shred of steel on my babies!" She then grabbed two leaves of a snake plant and grew them out to form dual katana-like blades. The assassin named after a plague then leapt off the table and flipped in the air to get the jump on the Polar Blade.

Lorna readied both her sword and her scabbard as a parrying tool to defend against the bloody rose's assault. Given the rebreather in her mouth, she never said a word during the exchange. She assumed that her sword would be able to cut through the leaf blades, but she was surprisingly mistaken.

They didn't function as swords per say, but more like mini whips, constricting and holding onto her weapons while Ivy would follow up with a flurry of kicks and headbutts. And any time that Lorna would manage to cut through the weapons, they would just grow back and make her assailant even more furious. If she was going to defeat her floral foe, she'd have to get creative.

Meanwhile, Pupil was not faring much better against the Claymeleon. "Who would have considered the amorphous blob with great resistance to physical attacks to be a good matchup for the boy with a long stick, and laser eyes that feel like a carpeted punch," were the thoughts going through Tim's head as he maneuvered past the Claymeleon shooting a long, lizard like tongue out at him.

Dmitri bellowed with laughter as he formed a skull with his hand and swung it at Tim, "To be, or not to be, that is the question you shall ask yourself when you face death's door!" He then formed a bow and arrow with his body and unleashed another onslaught of projectiles. "Whether 'tis it nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…"

As the formless thespian boasted Hamlet, Tim had an idea, "Or take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them," he responded with the light of a eureka in his eyes hiding behind his visor. He then started running west, towards the Asylum's fitness center.

"To die, to sleep; perchance to dream- ay there's the r-where are you going in the middle of soliloquy?!" Karlo yelled outraged as he gave chase to Pupil. Escape from the Asylum had left his mind, now replaced by his desire for attention from his adversary. As he followed the wily sidekick, he continued his monologue.

Once Tim got inside the room, he grabbed a mirror and a few barbell weights at one side of the room and began setting up a trap. He looked out upon on the other side to see a large swimming pool. This was to be Dmitri Karlo's sea of troubles.

Before Karlo could invoke Ophelia, Tim had gotten him right where he wanted. As the man of clay burst through the door, he saw Pupil standing on the diving board of the Asylum's swimming pool.

"Oh Claymeleon, Claymeleon, wherefor art thou, Claymeleon? Sorry, that's the only other Shakespeare I know," Tim said with a shrug.

"That's Romeo and Juliet you cretin," Karlo snapped as he shot out his chameleon tongue towards the diving board, only for it to shatter the mirror Tim positioned on the diving board.

In fact, Pupil was standing behind the Claymeleon, but positioned the mirror in a way to show his reflection when Dmitri came in. He then fired an optic blast to push the clay-faced crook into the pool.

"Down I come, like a glistering phaeton," he shouted as he plunged into the water. He started to flail and struggle as he dissolved in the watery depths. This wouldn't kill him of course; the Blind Bat would be rather ticked if Tim intentionally did something to do that. But the contents of Karlo's character would sink to the bottom of the pool, easily able to be skimmed out and reconstructed later. Anything else could be cleaned out of the filter.

That's not to say this isn't a painful process for Mr. Karlo. But the two of them had some checkered history. Dmitri had once created artificial life from his clay, a young girl named Maddy to spy on Blind Bat and Pupil. That led only for the construct to gain sentience and also feelings for Tim. The sidekick intended on saving her from her creator, but this was followed by Karlo then reabsorbing that portion of himself, ending her life. He had to face the growing pains of the realization he couldn't save everyone. The trauma left behind by that failure was enough for which Tim was okay sinking to a villain's level this one time. The level in question being the five feet deep the pool was.

But this brief reprieve of catharsis was over, he had to get back to handling the rest of the inmates. Who knows how well Lorna was holding up, alongside wherever the Jester was going to strike next?

Chapter 15: The Jester's Gambit

After making quick work of the Caged Tiger, the Jeweled Jester descended from the upper floors to the catwalk overlooking the Intermediate Security Wing, she basked in the calamity brought upon by her hand. This kind of chaos would be something Purple Joker would be proud to witness. To be an extension of his will, an agent of anarchy, was all she aspired to be, right?

Surely there was more for her in life than that. She was a doctor for God's sake. Dr. Joan Quinzel was someone who once wanted to help people like this. Thoughts of doubt in her Grape Jello Puddin' clouded Quinzel's mind again before she quashed them again. No, she was sick before she met him. She was just another cog in an ever-worsening world that had no chance of redemption. And he turned her into something beautiful, something perfect. Her purpose was to keep the Joker happy, and he made the Jester happy in turn.

Everyone was tearing each other apart as they were overtaken by Mr. Scary's toxin. Joker always saw fear as the darkest parts of people taking over. Mr. Scary was one of the few people that actually got along with Purple Joker, and by extension the Jester. It was a lifetime ago, but Dr. Crane was a professor of Joan in college. Phobias was a favorite elective of a younger Quinzel, and she was fond of his eccentric nature.

Joker's conditioning had her pumped full of so many drugs, that the stuff didn't affect her, he was the only one who could control her. So, she could galivant through the asylum completely unfettered. Despite Mr. Scary's prior fondness for Quinzel, he did nothing to help her against her abusive master. He found the work Joker had done on her too interesting of an experiment to tamper with. Lawrence Crane was more a man of science than a man of character.

She pouted as she watched from above as Pupil and the new girl in the green cloak fought off most of the more pathetic costumed crooks, but she couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the Quilt Shocker. The Jester found his existence inherently funny, as was any pain inflicted upon him. But after that, her face lit up to see two true villains step into the fray. One of them being her friend, Maria.

Over the three and a half years or so that the Purple Joker had Joan Quinzel under his control, he'd send the Jester out on dangerous missions for when he didn't want to get his hands dirty. Many of these missions would just so happen to be similar to the ones the Kingpain would send his own femme fatale on. In reality, Joker would do this purely to mess with Bane without directly incurring his wrath.

Typhoid Ivy would be one of the only people who'd treat Quinzel as an equal, both being the pawns of Goth's Kitchens big two crime bosses. Most other villains in Goth's Kitchens either belittled or pitied her for whatever reason. Maria didn't care much for Bane. She was never one for violence, but mercenary work gave her protective alter some more time out in the sun, and money in her pocket. On the other hand, both sides of Ms. Isley despised the Purple Joker for how she treated Joan. But given Joker's powers, she didn't want to risk an encounter with him.

At around this time, she watched as the Polar Blade started dueling against Typhoid Ivy. She cheered as her friend used her vines to grapple against the cloaked woman's katana. Ivy was gaining the upper hand as more and more vegetation bloomed and blossomed throughout the asylum. It was starting to look more and more like a swamp. They wrapped around and restrained the swordswoman. She proceeded to throttle and throw Lorna around like a child playing with a ragdoll.

One could question how someone so powerful was able to be contained in a place like this, including the audacity to keep decorative plants within proximity. Well, to answer your question, dear viewer, the plants in the Asylum were typically plastic for this specific reason. But a certain devil child and his bird came in earlier that morning, replaced them all with real plants.

The Asylum wasn't so cruel to use the power dampening collars which inflicted great pain and discomfort on their wearers. Ryker's simply tried creating environments to which their powers wouldn't be effective, and coax them into a state of mind to where they wouldn't want to escape and seek treatment normally. And look where that got them. This was not one of the better ideas provided by the city of Goth's Kitchen. Admittedly it was encouraged by the Blind Bat, but this was mainly the city's blunder to bear.

Things were looking up for Ivy until Lorna went back to an old trick. Despite being tied up and stretched apart by the vines, she was able to work up enough concentration to wield her sword by her magnesis alone. And with careful aim and visual tracking, started spinning it around herself as if it was a satellite orbiting her body. Ivy would try to send more at her, but she cut through the vines like nothing and gave the Asylum some acute internal landscaping until she caught her sword mid orbit and pointed it to Ivy's face.

The floral fighter was overcome by the feelings of all those plants being cut down. To manipulate such power, they became extensions of herself. Cutting them in as rapid succession as Lorna did, felt like cutting off one hundred limbs. She knelt to the ground, trying, and failing to compose herself. Her red hair was swooped over the unmade-up half of her face, only showing her green half. "I'm…just here to protect…us. I don't even care about escape, Mary's getting good help here."

Lorna removed her rebreather momentarily at the confusion over the current events, "Then why did you even attack me?!" she asked incredulously before popping it back in.

"I…don't know," Ivy answered genuinely unsure of herself. Her violent tendencies were meant to protect the main alter. But in a place usually so tame, this other half was desperate for a reason to reemerge. She was a force of nature, but she was also a person. Ivy was afraid that Maria wouldn't need her anymore, and that she'd cease to exist. So, she brought more danger upon their system to maintain her own existence. "I'm just trying to survive, okay?"

Before Lorna could ponder this any further, the Jester had jumped down from the catwalk and slammed Lorna across the face with her mallet. The extra momentum added with her enhanced strength sent Lorna flying across the room, slamming into a wall, and knocked her out for the time being. Joan then stood up and faced Ivy with a goofy little grin on her face, "Hey, Red! Howya been?"

It took Ivy a minute to process everything that just happened. She was still reeling from the advanced pruning all her precious flora received, but eventually she managed to give a collected response, "Joan, hi…I've been better. Hold on, just a sec. I gotta take a minute. Lemme get Mary out here…" Ivy paused before her whole demeanor shifted from weary to simple timidity. She adjusted her hair to cover the green half of her face and buttoned up her asylum clothes to appear more modest. With Lorna out for the count, she no longer perceived herself in danger, and Ivy relinquished control back to her main alter, Maria Isley.

"Hey, other Red," Joan greeted as the other side of Iseley emerged. "You been doing okay in here?"

Maria took a deep breath as she took in her surroundings. At first, she seemed nervous to be around so many cut up vines. But as she looked at the whitened face of her friend, she felt safe. The two then hugged in a warm embrace. "Hello Joan, I've been getting a lot better here. Ryker's has been a new place since Bane lost power. I've been needing Typhoid less and less. They told me that I could be around plants again soon…" she said with pride.

That was until she paused and took another look around, "Though that hope may be squandered now, we lashed out again, didn't we? Wait, what are you even doing here?" her demeanor turned timid again as she felt a hint of shame, thinking her mental state was regressing.

The compassionate, doctoral side of Joan, which had been buried for a long time, sprouted back out again as she saw a friend in need. "No, you did nothing wrong. Ivy was forced out by the stressful environment, and she acted wholly in self-defense. Once everything gets cleaned up, you'll have the chance at a clean bill of health you deserve." Quinzel spoke with a kind, reassuring voice. The Jester's current conditioning had left her to be against the institution of the asylum, but that was hard given how much it seemed to have been helping her dear friend.

Maria let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you, what happened to cause her to come out?" she asked as she took a closer look at the cells forcibly shut by Lorna's powers, and then at Lorna herself. "Everything is in total disarray. All the cell doors look ravaged, and who is that?"

Joan could only shrug at that last question, "Beats me, Bats just showed up today with backup. String Bean probably spilled to Kiwi, and he spilled to the Bat. This was all me and Professor Crane's work! Nygma needed my help to break out Mistah P.J., and I gotta say, everything's going great so far!" she explained with sadistic pride in hers and Mr. Scary's work.

Maria's face turned from relief to horror as she pieced together what she was doing here, "No...Joan Jessica Quinzel, don't tell me that you're here to break out him," she all but ordered to the Jester. "You've had so much time apart from him. I thought this'd finally be your chance to break free!"

"I'm only free when I'm with him, Mary! I am only anything when I'm with him," the Jester snapped back in retort. "I thought you of all people would understand what it's like only being half a person!"

Maria was hurt by Joan's insinuation, "At least Ivy tries to protect me! My mind created her to keep me safe. Joker only created what you are now to put you in danger! Going back to him will do nothing but hurt you. Why can't you see that?"

Joan was quiet as she pondered the answer to that question. She didn't like introspection. Joker to reprogram her to do that. A lot of what he conditioned her into being was slowly falling apart. She could feel it, that terrified her, and Maria was making her confront that. So, she did the one thing she knew would help: run, run to her Grape Jello Puddin'.

In the general population wing, Mr. Scary continued to clash against the Immortal Dragon Fist. This portion of the facility was contrastingly flooded with the fearmonger's frightening fumes. Strangely, the reptilian-handed fighter did not seem to be affected by it. This was much to the mad professor's great annoyance.

You see, the caveat with using gaseous weapons is that the target must breathe them in to be effective. But Richard Rand had mastered the martial artist's technique of chi. Chi was the transference of energy and the strict control of breathing to enhance the limits of the body and the spirit. Deep focus allowed Rand to keep a pure mind, and power through the reaper-clad reprobate from landing a mortal blow with his scythe.

Crane became more and more enraged as his magnum opus of chemicals failed to best this man in green pajamas. His scythe swings became more and more erratic as he tried to close the gap made by the defensive dragon duelist. All this time, Rand had been forced to stay on the defensive. Any attacking strike could compromise his focus and succumb him to the gas.

"You carry so much power in your hands, yet you squander it by holding back. A martial artist afraid of aggression, well isn't that irritatingly ironic," Crane commented through his gas mask as he tried and failed to reap the Dragon Fist. But those glowing hands swatted away the repurposed farming tool as if it were but a common hoe.

Rand continued to take slow and deep breaths as he allowed the chi within him to purify the air, but deep down he knew he couldn't keep up forever. While the gas did not throw him into a chemically induced nightmare, his anxieties were creeping up from beneath the woodwork in his mind.

He was the next in a long line of warriors, trained by monks, blessed with great power of the dragon O-Lao, all to protect all of Asia. His father had stood before him, but fell to Morb Death Man. The noble fighter went to Japan to try and prevent the monster from invading his home of Kun Lun in China. Only for the ghoul to be defeated by the child of another one of his victims. Richard could not avenge his father, but still had the baggage of carrying his legacy.

Now he faced a skeletally faced foe of his own, and he was on the verge of losing. To him, he was a failure in every sense, and it was eating him to his core. Richard felt unworthy of his father's legacy, and he feared that the title of the Dragon Fist would be tarnished for his blunders. Those were his true greatest fears, and Mr. Scary's gas had nothing to do with it.

Regardless of its cause, Scary could notice the fear within Rand's face, and relished in the idea that the toxin was taking its course. But it wasn't fast enough for his liking. "So, you still try to resist the nightmares, how quaint. Let us see how you fare against my original distribution method."

Mr. Scary swiped across to briefly put the Dragon Fist at a distance as he then flung it towards the fighter like a massive boomerang. While he was occupied, Scary switched to his gas gun, and grabbed what appeared to be a dart from his pouch. With a turn and click from the barrel of the gun, Crane turned the gas gun into a dart gun. In quick, but calculated movements, he readied, aimed, and fired his dart straight into the bare chest of the Dragon Fist. Perhaps his choice of attire was unwise against this style of villain.

As the concentrated, liquid venom shot into Rand's blood, any chance at defending himself with chi flew out the window. Rand's slow, meditative, breaths turned short and rapid. His flaring fists fizzled out as he fell to his knees. The pure fear toxin instilled auditory hallucinations. He began hearing a cacophony of voices, telling him how much of a failure he was, how much he didn't deserve that power, that his life was a waste to the legacy of the Immortal Dragon Fist. It all came to a head as he realized he recognized the voices. They were that of his father, but not just him. It was his father, and all the Dragon Fists before him. All the forced negativities lead him to let out a horrified scream.

Mr. Scary basked in the martial artist's terror, laughing with twisted glee as his old ways proved to be more effective in this case, "I'm sorry for ever doubting you, dear pellets. You're an ever-vital part of my arsenal. The gas can only do so much.

"Talking to your toys again, Professor?" a voice chimed in before Crane looked across the hall to see the Jeweled Jester standing before him.

"Hello child, it's good to see you again. Your assistance has been greatly appreciated in furthering my experiments. I'm assuming Nygma was satisfied with my contributions?" Scary asked, referring to the inoculations he synthesized to defend against the Purple Joker's pheromones.

"Yeah, he's probably prepping everybody for Mistah P.J.'s return right now. Can't say I'm the biggest fan of it, but if they're willing to bust him out so he can be a part of their team, who am I to complain?" Joan commented as she looked around, "Anyway, what are you gonna do when you get outta here? You gonna be okay with Bats on your tail?"

Mr. Scary chuckled in response, "Dear girl, I will be just fine. With whatever the Legion has planned, Goth's Kitchen will be the least of his concerns," he said with sly confidence. "There will always be those who are interested in what I can create. I'm not sure what the Inquizitor has planned for Joker, but if he requires someone slinking in the shadows, well he'll always have a friend on the other side." As he answered, he walked past the reeling Dragon Fist to retrieve his scythe, embedded in the ground. "If you don't mind me asking, what will you be doing after this? What do Wesley and the nutjob with the horns have planned for you after springing Jack?"

The Jester shrugged, "He didn't say. If he needs me to bash some heads, I'll be…happy to oblige," she answered starting to question her love of violence. "But I'll be sharing a room with Joker again, and that's all I care about."

Mr. Scary noticed the crack in her resolve, intrigued at the idea of the effects of Joker's conditioning wearing off on their own over time, "Alright then. Well, if you're going to the bowels of the Asylum, take these." He reached into his belt and grabbed two syringes. One was filled with the usual phosphorus yellow of his fear toxin, while the other a neon green. The other syringe was full of Kingpain's venom. "Use the first one on the Bat, I whipped it up extra strong to use against him one day. Consider the other my last work for my employer. He's going to need that last kick to break the Bat one more time."

The Jester pulled a revolver from within her jacket. She pulled the trigger to reveal a flag with the word "BANG!" on it emerging from the barrel. After removing the flag, she put the venom syringe in its place. "I'll tell him you tender your resignation. Thanks Professor Crane!" she said in a bubbly voice.

"Take care of yourself, Dr. Quinzel. I am very curious to see what he does with you next," Scary commented before he scurried away from the general population wing and presumably towards whether the exit was. The Jester then fled towards the stairs to the maximum-security floor. She knew that place all too well, it was where she met her first love.

Meanwhile, on said maximum-security floor, the Blind Bat was still reeling from the effects of the Inquizitor's sonic weapon assaulting his communicator. He had since plucked it from his ear and crushed it under his boot. He had regained his senses, but the painful effects remained.

Once he regained his radar sense, he could see that while two of the cell doors had opened, only one of the inmates within had exit. With Bane's strength greatly neutered by the regulation of his Venom, he was quietly sitting on the bed in his cell. While disappointed he couldn't do it himself, he was content with watching as his loyal attack-dog Mr. Bullseye fight for him.

Zsasz had emerged from his cell, uncannily shimmying and struggling in his straitjacket. With all the time he had spent in that cell, he had gained some practice in that avenue. With some work, he broke free of the canvas bonds, and more importantly, the steel buckles.

In the hands of Dexter Zsasz, anything was a weapon. "I've been waiting to add your mark, Bat. It's a shame that it's going to be so mundane," he said with disappointment as he examined the unspectacular metal rectangle that was one of the buckles which held his bindings together.

"Go back to your cell, Zsasz. We know how this went last time," the Bat ordered as he readied his batons for a fight. Of all his foes, this was the man he considered an equal in terms of armed combat prowess and resourcefulness.

Zsasz first kept his distance as he used some of the buckles as makeshift shuriken. He was a nigh unrivaled marksman as he aimed for the unarmored face of the Blind Bat, pelting the metal flats straight across his cheeks.

The Blind Bat had to be quick before Zsasz could continue his barrage. But as he charged in with his batons, Zsasz began picking up small rocks and rapidly flicking them towards the Bat. Their speed and precision felt akin to bullets. The Bat had to then turn around and sweep his cape aside to absorb the pelting. It had been designed to be bulletproof, and it'd also prove useful against a man of Mr. Bullseye's caliber.

Zsasz grew annoyed and tore off the rest of his straitjacket and tore it to ribbons. The only portion left intact was the back containing the zipper and main lock. He then used the zipper as a last-second chain whip. He lashed at the Blind Bat, precisely whipping the zipper's lock to the side of the Bat's temple. But the Blind Bat proceeded to grab the end of the zipper whip and yanked Zsasz closer so he could start fighting up close.

The Bat started smacking and prodding across the serial killer's body. But Zsasz was all but numb to the pain as the sentimental strokes on his skin left him steeled by scar tissue. During this exchange, Zsasz then used the buckle to catch the tip of one of the batons and twisted it to leverage the weapon into Zsasz's hand amidst the commotion.

During the battle, the Purple Joker was in uproar with laughter as he watched Mr. Bullseye clash against his age-old foe. Joker had a professional respect for Zsasz's level of crazy. While he was still trapped in his cell, he might as well enjoy the show until somebody came along to bust him out.

With the two now equally armed, the fight was now a battle of who could use the baton better. This also gave the Blind Bat an advantage, now that Mr. Bullseye was fighting up close, he could apply his more versatile fighting techniques. The Bat fought off the maniac with flurry of punches and kicks, combining the agility of a ninja with the grit of a boxer. The baton he held was purely for defense against the on Zsasz had taken from him.

Zsasz fought back with ferocity as he managed to jab and prod the baton into the Blind Bat's armor. He knew this couldn't actually hurt him through the costume, but that wasn't the killer's goal. If he kept throwing the weapon against the Bat, something was sure to eventually break. And given the masochist's resilience, he could take enough punches and last long enough to finally shatter the redwood cane against the Blind Bat's chest plate. This turned the baton into something more akin to a shiv. "I'm going to gut you like a fish, Bat!"

As if he couldn't get more vicious, Zsasz began slashing and stabbing at the Blind Bat. The Bat once again tried to block the piercing attacks with his cape, pulling it in front of himself now. Zsasz was then forced to aim up and slashed the Bat across his jaw, drawing blood.

Blind Bat reeled from the initial sting, but by now, he was done playing around. Luckily, the baton he held in his position now was the half which carried his grapple. He fired off the hook, firing just over Zsasz's shoulder. The mangled murderer scoffed as he dodged, "You're slowing down, Blind Bat. Missed me by a country mile."

"I wasn't aiming for you, Dex. I'm just giving you one of your legal rights as an inmate here," the Bat said, giving a battered smirk of his own.

"What?" Zsasz asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Your one free phone-call," the Blind Bat finished as he yanked the grapple back. The hook had collided into the Purple Joker's wall phone. The grapple's recoil pulled the whole phone right off the wall, and it slammed into the back of Zsasz's head. The impact knocked Mr. Bullseye out cold. The joke itself was corny, but the triumph that resulted earned a bit of levity.

After he dragged Zsasz back into his cell for the time being, Blind Bat leaned against the wall as he tried to recover from the fight he had just gone through. His face was badly cut, beaten, and bloody. The Purple Joker seemed to relish the sight of seeing the Bat so battered. Meanwhile the Kingpain seemed annoyed that Zsasz failed. The ex-crime boss approached the exit of his cell, but the Bat brandished his grappling baton towards Bane. "Stay back, Bane. Without your drugs, we both know how this would end."

Bane seethed with rage at being so limited in his current state. "You stand confident today, Mr. Blind Bat. But do you know what is happening above? How sure of your success can be for the others?" Bane asked, hoping that whatever the Blind Bat was hearing would reflect the paranoia he was trying to instill.

Bane was partially lucky. Things were a mixed bag. As the Blind Bat listened above, he could image out that Pupil had dissolved the Claymeleon and was currently running up the stairs to retrieve the Caged Tiger. He then envisioned that most of the lesser villains were dealt with, and that Typhoid Ivy returned to her cell willingly after the commotion in her wing ended, waiting things out peacefully. Matt always knew there was hope for her. But then he also noticed that Lorna and Dragon Fist were taken down. Worst of all, he could hear the Jeweled Jester approaching.

His brief visage of confidence turned into that of worry. Zsasz was enough to put the Bato through the ringer already. The Jester wasn't quite as skilled, but she was strong enough to be worried about fighting in his current state. The Bat's expression was a combination of dread, but also deep regret. Dr. Joan Quinzel was someone Matthew Wayne had a deep respect for. They had similar goals to rid Goth's Kitchen of the criminally insane, but they operated in different but complimentary methods. Not being able to save her from the Purple Joker's mental mangling was the Blind Bat's greatest failures, and she was now up there amongst his more formidable foes.

The Purple Joker looked through the glass to see the Bat's brooding; he recognized that face. He let out another cackle, but because of the soundproofing, only the Blind Bat could hear it. "Oh, I know that look! My dear darling doll is on her way. I guess I'll bidding this cell adieu, Batsy!" He gloated as he rowdily pounded his fist against the glass.

The Blind Bat let out a heavy sigh as he turned around to face the door exiting the maximum-security chambers. It was a large, steel door, four inches thick, and sealed with a massive set of gears and tumblers akin to a bank vault. He stood behind it as the lone guard against the inevitable. This was the only way in or out of this part of the Asylum. If the Jeweled Jester was going to complete her objective.

He echolocated her position as she stood in the general population wing directly above them. The stairs weren't too far from her. She'd be down soon. The Bat was anticipating a climactic clash against the clown's concubine, but she remained in place. Blind Bat could hear the dropping of a few objects on the floor above them, and then noticed that she moved away from them. At that point, the Bat realized she wasn't going to be using the door.

Off went a loud explosion as the ceiling of the chamber burst apart and fell to the floor below. The new hammer and the signal jammer weren't the only toys supplied by Toymandarin. C4 explosives made from a compound not too dissimilar to Play-Doh were the cause of the dastardly demolition. Luckily, the bombs only broke apart the ceiling above the hallway between the cells, leaving Bane and Zsasz unharmed. Meanwhile Joker was applauding his dearest's grand entrance.

The Jeweled Jester leapt down from the floor above and gracefully landed atop the rubble which she created. "Howdy, Bats! I'm here for my conjugal visit!"

The ringing of the blast staggered the Bat, but he turned around, prepared to defend against Quinzel's assault. "I can't let you take him out of here, Joan."

Joan stared at the Bat with contempt and resentment in her eyes, "I'm afraid you ain't got a choice in the matter," she replied as she pulled her gun from her jacket. At first, she aimed it towards the Blind Bat, "Wesley sent me so we could make your life hell. You made my life hell when you took my Puddin' away from me. I've always had to fight for his attention against you!"

The Bat raised his hands in the air as she pointed the gun. He could probably dodge whatever she shot, but he was trying to stall for time until either Tim or Lorna got over and assist. "Joan, that isn't you talking. That's him. Joker doesn't love anyone except himself. You have always been nothing but a toy for him to exploit. None of this is worth it. Put the gun down, and maybe we can help you. You've seen what wonders the asylum has done for Ms. Isley. There's still hope for you, I know it."

He spoke in a calm, rational tone. The Bat believed in every word he said, at least he wanted to believe it. He wasn't sure whether or not Quinzel could actually be fully cured of her conditioning, but he was always going to try. Her mind had been through so much, it deserved justice just as much as anything else. The crusade for justice above all else was what the Blind Bat embodied most.

"You're the Bane of my existence, Blind Bat!" she proclaimed as he then stretched her arm to the side to aim the gun at Bane, still standing at the foot of his cell door, "So how about I make you deal with yours?" The Jester pulled the trigger and fired the Venom syringe right into Bane's chest. "That's one last hit of yer super steroids, coytesy of Lawrence Crane! Just enough to let you get nuts!"

Bane staggered back as the syringe pierced right into his chest. Quinzel hadn't considered that the syringe would then need to be pressed for the venom to enter his system. A lesser man would die on the spot, unable to trigger it themselves. Bane was not a lesser man. He mustered the strength to raise his arm and press the syringe's trigger, forcing the venom right into his bloodstream. He laughed dryly as he slowly returned to his feet and trudged out his cell door. "Oh, dear, Mr. Scary. I knew I could always rely on you."

The Blind Bat watched in horror as Wilson Bane's form stretched and reformed back into the Kingpain he knew and hated. His proportions bulged and burst into the frame of the seven-foot hulking monster that broke the Bat once before. Arms grew to the thickness of tree trunks as his shoulders widened to that of a small car. Bane ripped the respirator off his mouth, taking the first breath of air under his own power for a long time.

He raised his batons to challenge Bane, but the mountain range of a man simply laughed, "Stay back, Bat. We both know how this is going to end," he said mockingly mirroring the same words the Bat'd just told him. The Kingpain cracked his knuckles, the sound like firecrackers, and then he charged at the Blind Bat with the force of a semi-truck.

Chapter 16: Knightmare of Goth's Kitchen

The central wing of Ryker's Asylum stood like the gates of Hell, with the Polar Blade acting as their diligent guardian. The lone samurai stood at the main entrance with her sword drawn and on guard. With most of the inmates either returned to their cells or incapacitated by Mr. Scary's fear toxin, the only remaining threat topside was the mad fear-monger himself.

Crane charged at Lorna and swung his scythe with cold, calculated precision. Fighting the Bat for almost seventeen years made him a very experienced combatant with his unique weapon of choice. "I'm not sure what you have done in your life, but we all must reap what we sew. Allow me the kindness of doing it for you," Scary taunted before he swung his blade down on top of Lorna, only for her to catch it with the flat of her blade.

Scary would always make sure to get his blade as close to Lorna's face as he could, but he arced his swings in just the right way to get her to block in time. Scary intended to toy with her in the fight, just to see her sweat.

Lorna would try to force the weapon away from him with her magnesis, but the scythe's blade turned out to be made of obsidian. The glassy stone was famous for its sharpness and durability. And unfortunately for the daughter of the Fatal Compass, it was not magnetic. She had to rely on her swordsmanship alone, which was sufficing just fine. But like the creeping march of death, the doctor was getting closer.

His weapon, cloak and mask made him look like the Grim Reaper, yet he carried himself with none of the attributes associated with the angel of death. Rather than bloodthirsty ferocity, or even the alternative depictions of the reaper's cold indifference were absent behind the eyes of his mask. The master of fear's emotions were that of gleeful adrenaline combined with his usual clinical curiosity.

"I've never seen you in Goth's Kitchen before. I would remember a sword as fine as that one. And he would never bring one of the LMI here. He's far too proud of his city to let one of them help. No, you're another one of the Blind Bat's little friends he keeps in his back pocket," Crane deduced as he was able to land one scratch on the rebreather in Lorna's mouth. The cannister started spewing out pressurized air, rendering it useless for protecting her from the gas.

Lorna spat out the rebreather and planted her feet. She knew she didn't have much time until the gas overtook her, so she spent the sanity she had left trying to ground herself in reality, reiterating her own personal truths. "I'm not a hero like them, nor do I want to. This is just a job for me, why do you care?" she asked coldly. Living the life of superheroics repulsed her. Lorna wanted to distance herself from the idea as much as possible.

"He keeps people like the Tiger, the Dragon, and the putz with the green bow separate from his friends on the League because his greatest fear is realizing he's no longer a man of the people. The Blind Bat continues to walk amongst plebians to trick himself into believing he's still one of them," Crane monologued as he pulled his gas gun from his holster and started spraying around the fear gas like a can of Febreze in a teenager's bedroom.

"There's also the desire for control," Crane continued as he continued to slash and swing away at Lorna's defense. "His task force of sidekicks and mercenaries are all to keep Goth's Kitchen under his control. He keeps it in a constant state of stagnation because he fears that any growth or change will make the city outgrow him. And as the League saves the world from greater and greater threats, the Bat must wonder how useful he really is to that team." Crane commented on what he perceived to be the Blind Bat's greatest flaws. His intended result of telling Lorna this was unclear, perhaps he just wanted to showcase his own intelligence by rambling on about his foe's psychological profile. "Too godly for the men, but too mortal for the gods. What a fascinating dichotomy!"

"What's your point, ghoul?" Lorna asked as she started to feel a little off. Colors were starting to darken around her. The gas was starting to affect her.

Crane charged into her with his shoulder and knocked her to the ground. From his gun, he unleashed a mighty blast of his toxin into the senses of the Polar Blade. "My question to you is: What is all of this for? The Blind Bat has turned this city into his domain of order. He forced those like me into this "Asylum", this prison, to reform us to his standard. He refuses to kill because he thrives off being able to control us. Bane was a tyrant in his own right, but at least he fostered growth and progress. The Bat deludes himself with the guise of being a superhero. His crusade for order has consumed him."

Mr. Scary described with great disdain for the Bat. But the way he described him was not too dissimilar to the Fatal Compass. And those words were what guided her into her artificial nightmare. As her vision blurred into hallucination, the doctor faded into the shadows of her vision, fleeing the Asylum.

Lorna was then thrust into her own mind. Everything she saw was blanketed in a sickly, green haze. Her surroundings felt uncanny, like spectating your own life in third person. Lorna's first vision was that of right outside Ryker's Asylum, shaking the hand of the Blind Bat. He had appreciated a job well done, and he extended her an invitation to do more work like this for him. Her mind, still in a haze from the toxin, led the version of her she saw accept his offer.

Another life flashed through her eyes as she continued to fight alongside other heroes like him. Lorna would fight various villains under the same mantle of her mother, スチールスコーピオン. Her skills made her useful to the LMI. She blended in just fine, even reuniting with her half-sister, Jessica. Perhaps what she had always detested to become wasn't so bad.

Through the collage of premonitions, she looked upon a reflection her appearance, not seeing her simple tunic and cloak. Instead, the Lorna she watched was wearing a vibrant, green, and yellow costume, adorned with golden armor and extravagant detailing. Her white, porcelain mask replaced by green cloth to match. It was an outfit befitting that of a superhero.

As her hallucinations continued, she could see herself fighting a 15-foot tall, reptilian, creature through the streets of Tokyo. She was using her powers to hurl steel beams at the monster while it rampaged down the road. Destruction reigned through the city as she saw herself callously hurl cars and even chunks of buildings at it. The monster cast it all aside as if they were insects, posing but a mere nuisance.

The facsimile of her home country was in uproar as panicked civilians ran past her, away from the carnage she was fighting. Lorna's mirage paid no mind to any of it though. There were more important things at hand. But everything she was doing to fight this beast was also contributing to the damage. Homes and businesses were torn apart by her to use as more ammunition to slam against the goliath. Livelihoods of innocent civilians and families were ruined by her just to stop one monster. But in her current state, all she could feel was the rush of adrenaline that came from the fight itself. She'd justify to herself later that this was all necessary.

Ignoring the devastation, she cast her sword into the air, and like a simple dart, she plunged the sword straight into the eye of the creature, right into its brain. It collapsed to the ground with a thunderous thud. She could have done that at any time, but was so caught up in the fight itself to make the calls that would actually help people.

The false Lorna rose triumphant from the corpse of the beast she had just slain. She looked around to see a demolished urban hellscape. Her normal mind was horrified of what she did. But she was a superhero. "You are welcome, civilians! For I, the スチールスコーピオン, have saved you all!" Lorna basked in silent cheers and applause. But there were none. Anyone she claimed to have saved, there was maybe another who was severely wounded or had perished during the battle. This was just another Tuesday for her. She was a paragon of virtue, far above normal people. Their concerns didn't matter to her. She was one of their gods. She didn't care.

The Lorna Toru who watched upon this imitation of herself was horrified. This was how she perceived superheroes in this world to be. Callous barbarians who would sacrifice human life for a good fight. Normal people were ants to their flashy-colored boots.

Her perspective warped again to what she believed to be the LMI Watchtower. This nightmare had her imagine herself as a part of the League of Marvelous Individuals. Her normal mind would never join them. But right now, she was a superhero, and she relished sitting amongst them. She sat at the roundtable as did the rest of the League. The mirages of the heroes clamored on about some grand scale of nonsense.

There was some geocide happening in a foreign country, Wonder Crystal and Black Orca debated on whether they should get involved with it. Dictators who murdered hundreds of thousands reigned despite the fact the ones who sat above in their platinum tower could get down there at any time to stop it. Politics were being discussed on whether to save innocent lives.

After that, they had the gall to talk about merchandising deals. Cyberman would joke about the Sergeant's marketability and how he should save some inner-city kids or something to garner fame. Stark talked about how many resources they had, almost bragging about it. People with that kind of money, magical powers like Thunderman, Captain Gamma, and her own sister all could do so much to change the world for the better, but they do nothing.

All the while, they pat themselves on the back and gloated about past victories and how instead of thousands dying, hundreds did. At a certain point, all the voices blended together. It didn't matter who was saying what. She wanted to say something in protest of all she was witnessing, but the visage of herself just stood by and let it all happen. Complacency was just part of the job. They were profiteers and guardians of the status quo. But the real Lorna noticed something different when she looked at the head of the table. Across from where she sat was her father, the Fatal Compass.

The false Fate was also a part of the conversation, although his helmet remained on. Lorna took seeing her father like a punch to the gut. She missed him a lot. The old man's eyes twinkled as he looked upon two of his daughters sitting at the table. He seemed full of pride. His voice rang like a bell, but it did not sound as clear. He seemed to be aware of this, so he removed his bell-shaped helmet to sound clearer, but even then, any words he was saying carried no meaning.

As a matter of fact, none of what any of them were saying sounded coherent at all. Everything came out as sullen mumbles and grunts. Lorna became very confused, nothing felt right anymore. She was thrust into the perspective of her false image. "What's going on, here? What's everyone talking about?" she tried to ask, only to realize her voice came out just as muffled as everyone else.

Then, one by one, the faces of each of the members of the League started to warp and twist. The chiseled features of Thunderman faded into a blank slate. Lorna let out a panicked yelp as she watched Cyberman's human side do the same. Sergeant Speed, Wonder Crystal, even her half-sister, the Emerald Witch melted away as a faceless mannequin wearing their costumes were all that remained. The costumes were the only thing that mattered. Anything that once made them people had dissolved into nothing. They too were but mere weapons, consumed by a never-ending crusade. Just like…her father.

Lorna looked over to see that the Fatal Compass had suffered the same fate long before the rest of the team. His helmet was removed, and she could see that there wasn't even a faceless man left behind the costume. There was nothing left of him. Her father had lost himself a long time ago, and she had to go through the grief of not being able to say goodbye yet again. She scrambled out of her seat to take the Helm of Nabu, looking into the reflective metal faceplate. The スチールスコーピオン, the Steel Scorpion, hoped to see her own face in the sheen, to hold onto some level of humanity, but in horror, she only found another faceless shell, wearing a colorful costume.

Her rational mind was petrified of what she had the potential to become, the potential to lose her identity, her humanity. The potential for apathy towards the innocent people she walked among. Working alongside the Blind Bat any longer would send her down this path. She would devolve into just another cog in the machine of superheroics. A right mind would try to fight against this bitter end, but this was her nightmare, she was a superhero, and she didn't care.

Upstairs, Pupil had rushed through the mazelike halls of the medical wing to find the Caged Tiger. With the mid-tier threats of Typhoid Ivy and Claymeleon handled, he needed to get all hands on-deck to fight off the most volatile villains the Asylum had to offer. Tim heard the explosion below, and he knew who caused it. He always pitied Dr. Quinzel, but she was very dangerous, and needed to be stopped.

While he was running through the halls, he thought back on the time he spent working with Luke and Richard. As the Blind Bat's sidekick, he was always eager to prove himself amongst the Bat's colleagues. The Blind Bat made up a team Matt called the Knights of Goth's Kitchen. It had himself, Caged Tiger, the first Dragon Fist, Karen Gordon as the Guardian Angel, Foggy Grayson as the clumsily named Nightfog, and the Pupil before him, Jason Castle.

He was a kid when he saw them in action. They were all magnificent in their primes. Crime was kept in check by the defenders of the streets. For a time, it seemed like the Bat was having fun with what he did. Tim had dreams of fighting crime alongside the Blind Bat, of being a Pupil himself. But that dream had a price.

All occurring within the same year, Goth's Kitchen took a very dark turn. Richard Rand Sr. had to return to Tibet to deal with unrelated matters, but returning home eventually led to his death. Joker just got lucky in getting rid of him. Next, he manipulated a crime boss in Harlem called Snake Eyes to get Luke Bronze sent to prison. Richard Rand Sr. had to return to Tibet to deal with unrelated matters, but returning home eventually led to his death. Joker just got lucky in getting rid of him. Then, the Purple Joker had isolated Karen, and the Guardian Angel had her wings clipped by a handy bullet through the spine. Worst of all, Joker and a corrupt district attorney named Harvey Russo, kidnapped the second Pupil, and murdered him.

These events are what led the Blind Bat to take a very dark turn in his life. And through it all, Bane capitalized on the weakness of the Kitchen's defenders to make things even worse in the city. He became extremely brutal in his crusade against crime, coming dangerously close to crossing the line, but even that couldn't help the state of Goth's Kitchen.

If things could not get any worse, when he was thirteen, Tim Summers would remain the only survivor of his family after a horrific plane crash. He not only lost his parents, but also a younger brother. And the trauma he underwent during the tragedy was what awakened his metamutant gene, turning his eyes into endless pools of concussive force. Although, he couldn't control that power. So, whenever he opened his eyes, destruction would be unleashed. He was robbed of his sight as well.

When the orphan boy was brought back to the city, Matthew Wayne saw a young boy with great potential who had undergone a travesty he could understand. Wayne would adopt Tim Summers, and the Blind Bat would train him to be the next Pupil, fighting blind just as his mentor. Eventually, he would be gifted a visor that contained the force of his blasts with ruby quartz crystal, engineered by Victor Stark. With all that, he became unstoppable as a force for good alongside the man he idolized. Every awful thing that happened led him to where he was.

When Tim thought back on the past, everything seemed so vivid. Even the things he hadn't directly seen seemed like he was there. Every terrible thing that happened to those he stood amongst today brought him here. He wanted this; to be a sidekick. If he was to be Pupil, Jason Castle had to die. If the Blind Bat were to need a new Pupil, Goth's Kitchen would have to fall to disarray. And if he were to gain his powers, his whole family had to die.

Pupil looked around to see the walls closing in around him. The effects of Mr. Scary's fear toxin were finally starting to get to him. His sacrifice to help Lorna left him vulnerable. Pressure was his greatest fear, whether it be mental or physical. He perceived the world around him as if it was going to squish him down to nothing. Tim collapsed to his knees as the rest of Mr. Scary's nightmarish hallucinations overtook him.

The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, he felt he made the world so much worse just to get what he wanted. Tim felt he owed everyone and everything all that he had, because he didn't see himself as worthy of what he was given. The walls of the Asylum caved in, the faces of those who died to bring him here molded from the drywall to berate him for his failures as a hero. He saw Rand Sr., Jason Castle, the other passengers on the plane, his mother and father, and then his brother Alex. Their faces closed in, Pupil felt like the walls were crushing him, squeezing him like an overinflated balloon. The guilt, panic, and pressure all built up made Tim feel like he was going to pop, but then he saw the face of his mentor force itself from the wall.

"Snap out of it, kid. You're stronger than this. Whatever you're seeing ain't real!" the hallucination yelled at Tim, as he felt like he was being shaken.

"It's all my fault, I don't deserve to be your Pupil," he said defeated.

"What? That don't matter right now, all that matters is people down there need our help!" the Bat retorted.

"I'm just going to fail again. I know what's going to happen. Everything is just going to get worse, and worse…" Tim said through choked up breaths.

"It might, but it's a sure thing if we don't at least try. Now snap out of it!" the oddly loud and bombastic voice of the Bat said before Tim was smacked hard across the face by a hand as hard as bronze.

Tim snapped back to reality as he saw Luke Bronze holding him like a stuffed animal. "Can you put me down, please?" Tim asked sheepishly. Luke was a giant in comparison to the Pupil. Then there came gravity, as Luke dropped him back on the ground. "Luke, what happened?"

Luke was wearing an oxygen mask with a tank slung over his shoulder. The weight seemed effortless to him. "Jewels knocked me out, but when that reaper fool sent his stuff everywhere, I punched a hole in the wall to send the gas outside to peter out. Then, I used this thing to tide me over until it all got filtered outside," he explained as he took the mask off and tossed the tank aside. Tim would then notice there was a bit of a draft on this floor. He supposed that Bronze's rather barbaric method had some merit.

"You had no protection kid, but you held on for a long time before it got to you. Bats was right about you, y'know. You're tougher than I thought." he praised as he looked past Tim to find the way downstairs. "You ready to finish this, Eye Boy?"

Pupil took a deep breath, what he saw wasn't real. It wasn't his fault for how the world played out, all he could control was now. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's go. I know the way down." He then ran off back from where he came with the Tiger in tow. Hopefully together, they could stand a chance against the Joker, the Jester, and a rampaging Bane.

The Blind Bat was launched across the Asylum by a super-steroided punch from the mighty Kingpain. The behemoth rose from the stairwell, each step like thunder. Before, Bane's venom was regulated by a device on his arm, and then extremely limited by the respirator. But now, all that power was flowing through him at once.

Mr. Scary had made this last dose extra strong specifically as Bane's grand finale. His body pulsed green as it continued to grow and bulge with every step. Without the mask, once this dose of venom burned itself out, Wilson's body would be unable to sustain itself. He did not have long left to live. The mad chemist knew that if Bane had lost control of Goth's Kitchen, an empire he'd spent his whole life working to build, there was nothing else. The Kingpain had nothing left to lose, and if he was going to burn himself out like a fizzling candle, he was going to do it while snapping the Blind Bat's wick.

Bane charged at the Bat like a rampaging bull, it was unfortunate the bat's cape was a deep red. He was dodging the heavy-handed haymakers like his life depended on it, and it did. Any blows he did land with his fists, or his batons bounced off Bane's body like nothing. The Bat beat Bane the first time by cutting off his venom supply. It was surprisingly easy to dislodge a plastic tube connecting from his wrist to his neck. That didn't seem like an option this time.

The Kingpain's raw body was invincible, and by contrast, the Blind Bat's armored costume was starting to fail him. Matt heard his ribs crack after that last punch. He was in a lot of pain after all the fighting. Time had not been kind to him.

"Ever since you put me back in this prison, I have dreamed of the day I would get to break you again!" Bane boasted as he slugged the Bat across the face.

Blind Bat put up his fists to guard against the next attack, although he knew it wouldn't be very effective. To think he could be considered a god amongst his fellow Leaguers, but he was all too mortal. "Bane…killing me won't bring you peace. You're going to die without your mask when that stuff runs out. Stand down…and maybe we can still save you." No matter what the scenario was, the Bat tried tirelessly to save his foes. Although, he was very tired right now.

Bane grabbed the Bat and slammed him into the floor, followed by a chuckle. "If I die, I die. I would rather die with a vengeance, than live unfulfilled." He stared into the blank, red eyes of the Bat's cowl. His own were a vibrant green from the venom coursing through his blood.

The Blind Bat tried to fire off his grapple baton to drag himself out of the fight, but Bane grabbed the hook as it flew out, yanking the weapon from his hand. "Your fancy toys mean nothing now," Bane teased as he lifted the Bat into the air, his tattered cape hopelessly dangling from his back. He was prepared to finish what he started and once again crack the Blind Bat over his knee. "I break you now. Adios, El rata alada."

Bane was then cracked across the face by an optic blast from above. He dropped the Blind Bat on the ground. Up in the rafters was Pupil and Caged Tiger. "Hey, Bane! Pick on someone in your own weight class!" Luke yelled before jumping down from a 20-foot drop and hitting the floor with a loud crash.

Bane looked at Luke with mild annoyance. His body oozed with power as the Venom continued to grow his body to larger proportions. Someone that big and green could be mistaken for Captain Gamma. He was getting stronger, but how long would it be until that strength went into something further? "I stayed away from Harlem because I didn't believe fighting you was worth my time, Bronze. I will not make that mistake again."

Luke cracked his neck and slipped on his bronze attachments to his knuckles, "I'm worth a lot more than your time. I made Black Doom quiver in his boots over $200, honey. You're just another paycheck," he taunted before both of them threw massive punches. The fists collided with each other, and the fight began.

As Tim grappled down to the floor to snatch The Bat away from the fight, they both looked up at the two giant men, "Pupil, the Venom he's on is far more volatile than anything he's ever had before. I can hear the chemicals bubbling beneath his skin. His body can't take it much longer," the Bat said weakly.

"What, are you suggesting we try and save him? You really want to do this now, Bats?" Tim questioned. The faithful young ward was typically on board with the overwhelmingly merciful actions of the Blind Bat, but now was not the time. Bane's heart was going to burn through the steroids, and then stop beating. And after everything Bane had done to plague the city, Tim was inclined to let it happen.

"I don't like it, but he's more dangerous dead than alive. Just trust me on this," the Blind Bat asserted firmly. As much as he found Bane despicable, and he probably deserved a gruesome death for the cancer he was upon Goth's Kitchen, he was too much of a risk to let happen here. "Find Dragon Fist, we need him to purify his body. He'll know what to do. I'll handle Kilgrave and Quinzel."

Pupil looked at his mentor incredulously, "Bats, I can't tell where the red of your costume ends, and your red begins. You need to get out of here and call for backup."

"Anyone I call will just be another threat if Joker gets his hands on them," the Bat assured as he stood up, grabbed his batons. He then noticed one cell around them that hadn't been affected by Lorna's magnetism, someone who had returned to their cell willingly. "Besides, I already have backup here."

"You sure you got this, Blind Bat? I'm not sure how much more punishment you can take." Tim asked worried, he knew Matt wouldn't go down until he physically couldn't keep going. It was admirable, but equally disconcerting.

"I didn't hear a bell, now go!" the Blind Bat ordered before rushing off to the cell of Typhoid Ivy, and Pupil darted towards the general population wing to retrieve Dragon Fist.

Chapter 17: The Last Laugh

While the Knights of Goth's Kitchen defended the Asylum from Kingpain's rampage, the Jeweled Jester was swinging away at the Purple Joker's cell with her mallet. "I'm coming, Puddin'! Just sit tight!" she called out from the other side of the glass. But given the glass was soundproof, to no avail.

Purple Joker waited as his doll hammered away at the one thing standing in the way of his freedom with great anticipation. By all accounts, he missed seeing Joan. Her pristine white face, her luscious pink hair, and her elegant, lissome figure in the skintight outfit. The leather jacket was new, but he didn't mind all that much. All this time, he was waiting for her to crack the glass just enough so he could get his voice through. And after a good amount of time, the Jester would succeed.

He would tell her as soon as she did crack through, "There's a door on the side of the cell, you D-Cupped boob! Just rip the lock off!" the Purple Joker ordered. He was back to ordering her around as before.

Joan dropped her hammer and looked to her left to see a vault-styled door with a tumbler lock similar to the entrance of the wing. "Oh…sorry Mistah PJ," she said embarrassed. Because this lock was much smaller, she simply used her super-strength to rip the metal handle off. Then she easily opened the door right after.

Joker let out a condescending sigh as he stepped out of the cell for the first time in months, followed by a sinister laugh. "Joan, my jewel encrusted beauty! It's so wonderful to see you!" He walked up to his Jester and embraced her. The purple-skinned Casanova twirled her around and dipped her down like a ballroom dance. Joan let out an excited little squeal as she was in her lover's arms again. All her pesky doubts she had about herself melted away now that she had someone else in control of her mind again.

"Missed you too, Puddin'. The things I had to do to get you out, I-," Joan started to say before she was cut off by Joker putting a finger to her mouth, shushing her.

"Don't say a word, it'll spoil the moment," Joker said with a grin, "Smile for me, I've missed it." Joker's pheromones overwhelmed Joan's senses again, and she eagerly obeyed his commands. Her smile crept across her face; wide, bright, and pearly white. She looked like a Barbie doll with how forced and fake it looked.

"Now, laugh," Joker continued. He relished being able to dominate someone again. Joan began to giggle uncontrollably. She sounded gleeful, but she was really just going through the motions of her master's desire.

Before they left, the Purple Joker was going to have one last bit of fun with his human toy, "Good girl, now kiss me like you mean it." The Jeweled Jester had no choice but to oblige. She thrust her face up against his. She shoved him up against the wall and wrapped her arms around his neck. Lips locked and tongues intertwined in a deep kiss as Quinzel's sanity was thrust all the way into the back of her mind, giving herself up to the Purple Joker.

While it felt passionate to the Joker, there wasn't any true love behind it, only the artificial obsession he had programmed into her mind. He wouldn't know authentic feelings from a hole in the wall. He was tempted to escalate things by bringing her to the bed in his cell, but he could do it to her later. Escape from this retched Asylum was to be done.

Joker pulled away with his face stained with white powder makeup and black lipstick, "Alright, my dear. You can stop, for now. It's good to know how much you missed me," he said slimily as he brushed his face off.

Joan pulled back, breathing heavily. Kissing him was always an exhilarating, druglike experience. "Missed ya more than anything, couldn't think about anything else," she assured to him as she picked her hammer up off the ground. "Let's get going, then!"

The two of them made a dash towards the door of the maximum-security wing, but someone stood in their way. Out from his cell, it was none other than Dexter Zsasz, holding onto the receiver of the telephone he was previously incapacitated with. "You ain't going nowhere, Jack! I'm gonna beat you to death with this phone, and your lady is gonna draw it on my back!" Zsasz yelled deranged.

Joker was nonplussed, "Actually, you're going to go back to your cell, and shove that phone right up your ass. All the while, you're going to sing Beyonce's "Single Ladies", understood?"

Zsasz was entranced by Joker's command, "Yes, sir…" he responded before trudging back into his cell, and the beginning words "All the Single Ladies! All the Single Ladies, followed by a high-pitched scream could be heard as the Joker and Jester fled the cell block.

Joan swooned over Joker's action, "You remembered my favorite song~!"

"Call me a romantic. Now, what's our getaway plan?" Joker asked with a smirk.

"One, you're a romantic~!" Joan complied lovingly to his first order, "Two, we just gotta get outside, we got transport via Thunderhorse back to the base!"

Joker was taken aback by what Joan had told him. "Thunderhorse? You're not talking about Loxxi's stupid little steed, are you?" he asked with slightly nervous tone. Given the last time he worked with Loxxi, and by extension Bezarro, things didn't exactly end well.

"Yuh huh! All this was Mistah L's plan! He's puttin' a whole team together with the otha baddies!" Joan answered proudly, but her smile fell when he looked at her puppeteer's expression, "What's the mattah? I thought you'd be excited." The Jester was genuinely confused.

"I'm not exactly a team player, my dear. And all things considered, I don't trust bald people," Joker commented as they reached the top of the stairs to see Kingpain going toe to toe with Caged Tiger. It had seemed that once him and Pupil came back downstairs, the indestructible man went up to bat to fight Bane for the Bat. But oddly, Blind Bat and Pupil were nowhere to be seen, as was a good portion of the vegetation around the Asylum.

Joker then pointed his indigo-shaded index towards the rampaging brute, "Especially him. Last time I trusted a man with no hair, I ended up stuck in a fishbowl in that guy's hideout. Not a very fun experience if I do say so myself."

The Jester laughed at the imagery, "I dunno, it sounds kinda cute!"

Her unprompted laughter at his own expense sent Joker into a brief but potent fury. The insecure ingrate grabbed her arm tightly and raised his other hand in a slapping position. "Never…EVER make me your punchline! I'm the only one who makes jokes here!" he snapped at her with unchecked ego in his eyes.

Joan recoiled at the threatening motion; it was something she wasn't unfamiliar with. "Sorry, sir," she replied meekly.

The Purple Joker relished seeing her subservience, "Good, glad you remember how things are supposed to work. I know you've been galivanting around without my say-so for a while. No hand to guide you, but I'm back, and you won't have to go freely for a very long time. Doesn't that sound lovely?" he asked as he let her arm go and gently caressed the side of her face.

The Jeweled Jester's fears were then overwritten, awash with his brainwashing. "Anything you say, Mistah PJ. Let's get outta here!" she said giddily before running past the two clashing titans. Purple Joker sprinted alongside his Jester; he had always been a nimble man. He ran from fights almost as well as he ran from the idea of a healthy relationship.

Luke caught a glance at the pair of fleeing clowns. Bane had punched him in the face when he looked away, but he remained in position, only sliding back a few feet. Bane shook his hand after throwing the punch. It felt as if the massive man was throwing his hands against a bronze statue.

"What the-? Is that the god damn Purple Joker?! Hey, get back here!" Luke called out before swiping across Bane's face with a clawed variant of his brass knuckles, akin to his feline namesake. Given Bane's strength, a more brutal weapon against him seemed appropriate.

"Sorry Brass Kitty, I got my real man back," Joan taunted with a wink before retreating up a stairwell. She was aiming to get back to the roof so Bezarro could pick the two of them up and take them to the Legion headquarters.

Before Luke could redirect his attention, the Joker had commanded the Tiger to "Ignore my existence!", and as if he was never there, the Caged Tiger turned his attention back to Bane.

"As much as I don't want to be a part of Loxxi's little boy band, who else did he recruit before busting me out? Who would I be working with?" Joker asked with vanity. He had gotten used to always being the top priority of anyone he interacted with. Being trapped in the Asylum made him lose a lot of his former influence, so he was a little insecure that he wasn't a top priority for Loxxi to break him out, despite the fact he didn't even want to join in the first place.

"Oh umm…well there's the Silver Kitty, that goofy diver guy with the speaker on his arm, the yellow guy with the weird mohawk on his helmet, and he just busted out the toy kid and some size-changing girl yesterday. The last one gets all big and stuff," she answered, purposefully leaving out the mention of Wesley Nygma.

The mention of Ms. Gigantic piqued Purple Joker's interest, "Size-changer, you say? I wonder if not everything needs to stay proportional, I guess I'll have to come just to find out," he mused with a sinister giggle, the sick freak. "Tell me, is anybody else coming with us? I'd rather not share the legroom on Bezarro's back."

"Umm, nope. Professor Crane was the only person he mentioned," Joan answered nervously.

"Scary? Good lad, never directly got in my way. But why? Give me the details." Joker asked, now curious for the circumstances.

"Well, you see…he was a part of the plan to bust you out," Joan answered at first, but she was compelled to elaborate, "…and he was owed a favor by Nyg-mmph," Quinzel half answered before she clapped her own mouth shut to prevent herself from saying Wesley Nygma's name.

Joker's eye twitched upon even hearing a portion of his name, "Nygma? Are you telling me that Loxxi recruited Bane's two-bit, quiz-obsessed, sorry excuse for an attorney for his team?! And before ME, no less?!" He outburst with rage.

The Purple Joker had made many enemies from his rampages through Goth's Kitchen. Blind Bat and Wilson Bane were the Top 2, but number three was Bane's retainer, now known as the Inquizitor. Any time there were territory disputes between the two kings of crime, Wesley would pull some arrangements to foil him. Whether it be some elaborate trap, an army of deaf goons, or even weirder methods.

Wesley would outsmart Joker six ways to Sunday, and make sure he knew that it was him that did it. Every time he did, Wesley would leave behind some riddle or random trivia question thematically relevant to whatever he did on a little notecard with a question mark on it. This was so common to the point of Joker just hating question marks in general.

Nonetheless, Joker had never met the man face to face, but he hated the aide's pretentiousness with a passion. And to then be superseded by him on a ploy for world domination of all things, was the greatest disrespect the Purple Joker had ever felt. He was absolutely livid at the prospect, and he had to take it out on somebody.

"Come on, sir. Please undahstand, I did everything I could to bust you outta here. The Inquizitor was just the only guy who was willing to help," she pleaded for his mercy.

"Oh, so he's got his own little stupid name now, huh? Oh, that's real rich! If I had known you were going to go crawling to him, I would've told you to jump off a bridge," Joker berated as the two of them kept heading towards the front exit.

As the two of them continued to traverse through the halls towards the main wing of the Asylum, Purple Joker would continue to disparage and insult his Jester. Neither of them paid any mind to the droves of inmates and staff collapsed on the ground from either fear or being knocked out from frenzies, nor the bloomed vegetation created by Typhoid Ivy scattered about. The Jeweled Jester was forced to listen to her master about how worthless and detrimental she was to him. And because of her conditioning, she was forced to believe it as gospel.

When they eventually arrived in the lobby, the Polar Blade was still curled up on the ground, suffering through her nightmare of losing her humanity. Joker had eventually got tired of verbally abusing Joan, ending his tirade with "But I still love you," and giving her a condescending pat on the end.

Joan was still reeling from the emotional drain she just suffered, "Does that mean we're going back to join the Legion?"

"Oh, hell yes. But I'm going to make Nygma take a long walk off a short dock, and we're gonna run things my way!" Joker asserted, not yet knowing about the vaccines against his pheromones Nygma and Crane had already supplied the rest of the Legion.

"Well, about that…" Joan said before being cut off by the Blind Bat jumping down from the ceiling rafters, gliding down with his cape. He had been waiting for them to come to this area so he could ambush them.

"Kilgrave, Quinzel, you're not getting out of here. You're both very sick, and whatever Loxxi has planned for you will only bring a greater pestilence upon this world," he forewarned between bated breath. He raised his batons, one of them half shattered after the fight with the Zsasz, and the other cracked by Bane.

"You've kept us apart for too long, Bats! We're skedaddling, and there's nothing you can do about it!" The Jeweled Jester proclaimed before she looked to Purple Joker, "You want me to handle this one, Puddin'?" she asked, raising her hammer.

Bats looked upon Joan sympathetically, "Dr. Quinzel, I don't know if you're still in there. I pray to God you are. I know it's a large ask, but please, fight his control," he pleaded to the checker-patterned pawn. But his prayers fell on deaf ears.

"Go nuts, my dear," the Purple ordered with sick glee, "I'm going to enjoy watching you crush him. Bash his head in for me."

Adrenaline rushed through Joan as his order sent her down another violent path. He charged towards the Blind Bat, ready to swing her hammer down and crush the crusader's cowled cranium. The Bat braced for impact, but he showed no fear when the mallet swung down, as he knew that it would be stopped by a jungle of vines.

Gradually descending from the ceiling was Typhoid Ivy, sitting on some nondescript stalk of a plant hanging in the rafters.

"Ivy?! What the hell are you doing, you crazy bitch?! Go shove yourself in a pot of dirt," Joker shouted out like a petulant child. But given Ivy's immunity to toxins, Joker's pheromones were ineffective on her.

Joan squirmed as Ivy's vines wrapped her up, dropping her hammer to the ground beside her. "Come on, Red! We can do this later. Bust out with us! I'm sure the Legion would kill for someone with your kinds a powers! Just let me bash his head in!" she proposed, very frustrated. Not being able to fulfill Joker's command was starting to cause her some mental anguish.

"Tempting, but sorry J.J., Maria wanted us to do this the right way." Ivy declined as she sent an extra vine to whip at the Purple Joker, knocking him to the ground. "And frankly, I'm on board with getting you very far away from this freak."

Once Luke took over fighting Bane, the Bat quickly rushed to Maria Isely's cell. He explained to the dual identities that he needed help preventing Purple Joker's escape and neutralizing Quinzel. He was aware of Maria and Ivy's disdain for the Joker, and their love for Joan. But most importantly, he respected them for all the time they spent working to reform themselves.

Once Bane cast Ivy aside near the end of his regime during some failed job, she was sent to the Asylum because of her DID. Maria didn't like Ivy's violent tendencies, and she did everything she could to keep them both in the Asylum. That way, she could serve out her sentence and eventually go straight.

Her other half would lash out a lot at first; that was why the plants in the Asylum were replaced with fakes. But over time she took advantage of the systems in the Asylum to address her relationship with her other half to come to an understanding of their shared identity. The system of Isley was at mental peace, and she wouldn't be in the position she was in had the Blind Bat not done everything he did to fix Ryker's Asylum. She was proof that everything Matthew Wayne tried to do could work. "Thanks for the assistance, Ivy. I can take it from here," the Blind Bat said with a sigh of relief.

"You know the deal, Bat. If Joker stays here to rot, we finally get to blossom," Ivy responded gruffly. An amendment to the Blind Bat's proposal was that Maria get put on a work-release program, working in the Botanical Gardens. Ivy's peaceful half always loved nature, even if only her thornier persona had the powers associated with controlling it.

"If we succeed, I'd say you'd have earned it," the Bat replied with a hint of sass as he fired his grapple towards the Joker, latching into his shirt, and yanking him towards him.

As the Purple Joker was drawn in by the retracting grapple, he fished his hand inside his prison jumpsuit. Out from inside his shirt was a toothbrush filed down into a shiv. Once he was dragged up closer, Joker took a stab at the Bat. Fortunately, the Bat simply blocked the shiv with his other baton, which coincidentally also looked like a shiv right now.

"We're going to do this dance, forever, Batsy! You need me to become the ultimate version of yourself," Joker boasted as he wildly swung his makeshift knife at the Blind Bat. "I've been with you since the beginning, and I'll be with you until the end. That's why you'll never kill me! You need me!"

In turn, the Bat either dodged or parried every strike. Without an army of mind-controlled goons or a bag of tricks to compensate, the Purple Joker was just an average man with weird looking skin. Despite this, his mind games lingered in the back of the Blind Bat's brain. They had been dueling for the better part of two decades, and neither one of them had perished. Could there have been some greater divine reason their feud persisted?

While the Blind Bat was occupied with Purple Joker, the Jeweled Jester continued to struggle against Typhoid Ivy's bindings. As she fought back against the vegetation, it slowly started to tear. Ivy couldn't hold onto her forever; she had the strength of the insane. But the more time she spent not fulfilling her orders, the more painful Joan's expression became. "Let me go, Ive! I need to do this for him. I just need to!"

"What you need is help, Joan. Everything he has done to you has left you a husk of the former woman you were. You were a psychologist for God's sake! You wanted to help people like us. There's more to you than him, isn't there?" Ivy asked, mirroring the thoughts that raced through Joan's head not half an hour ago.

"No…I need him. I can't be perfect without him," Joan tried to justify to herself. Once he was back, her mind degraded back to the subservient little toy she thought she enjoyed being. She didn't fully know how to think for herself. She didn't think there was much of a "herself" left to actually think for. But to the Jester, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the mission, the command by the Joker. Nothing mattered but what he desired. The Purple Joker's pheromones were one hell of a drug.

Drug…that was an option. The Jester pried against her vine wraps until she eventually burst out from within them. She then reached for the extra dart of fear toxin gifted to her by Mr. Scary. Yes, the most important thing she knew about her current opponent was that she was immune to toxins, but if this stuff worked on Dragon Fist, it might work on her. It was at least worth a shot.

Ivy stood up from her big stalk platform to try and rewrap Joan, but she was too fast to get a proper grip on again. But then she noticed the toxin injector in her hand. She recognized it as fear toxin, the stuff of nightmares. She knew it wouldn't work on her, but Maria wasn't a fan of being stabbed with needles. So, when the Jester lunged at Ivy to stab her, she sent up a small vine to snatch her arm, and she turned it back inject the toxin into Joan herself.

Once the yellow fluid entered the Jester's system, she collapsed. Ivy quickly caught her in a bed of leaves. But once everything was settled, Joan Quinzel saw no hallucination. There was no artificial fear. This was because all the toxin did was provide her the lucidity to realize she's been living her worst nightmare for years. Everything became crystal clear. The mental conditioning, the brainwashing, the experimental enhancements, all to make her perfect for carrying out the heinous desires of the Purple Joker. She fully realized the gravity of how far she had fallen from what she once was, and that was mortifying.

As Joan realized her nightmare, she tossed and turned in terror. She also talked in her daze, babbling on about everything that became apparent to her. Ivy just sat there and gently stroked her hair. She did everything in her power to comfort her at this time. "It's okay. This is just the first step." Ivy had no idea that this would help Joan, she just got lucky. But, if this was how she was going to help someone she cared so deeply about, so be it.

Tim had left Luke to defend against the Kingpain. He had arrived to see the general population wing's floor littered with incapacitated inmates. Among them was Dragon Fist, curled up in a fetal position among them. Richard Rand rambled on about failing the soul of the dragon and being a disgrace to O'Lao's power. His nightmare consisted of a feeling of uselessness and failure to avenge his father. He felt he was haunted by all of those he failed to live up to. Upon realizing that someone else fulfilled his duty of avenging his predecessor, Rand felt unworthy of his power.

Of course, Pupil didn't know any of this, but he noticed the empty dart sticking out of his body. He promptly plucked it right out, hoping that would help. Unfortunately, it did not. "Come on Fist, come back to me! We need you to work your magic," Tim yelled at the martial artist of fleeting consciousness.

"I'm sorry Father, I am not worthy of your legacy. The soul of the dragon is not mine to bear. Forgive me," Richard mumbled in a daze.

Tim groaned in annoyance; this was probably what Luke had to deal with when he was helping out him. "Who cares if you deserve what you have or not? You got power, but it takes strength to know how to use it. Be strong, Rich."

Rand stared at Tim, the Fear Toxin in him with system made him hallucinate the monocular boy as the red eyed dragon which supplied him his powers. "I don't think I am. What am I supposed to do if not avenge my father, O-Lao?"

"What? You can't define your life over one person, dead or alive! That's stupid!" Pupil proclaimed, starting to get frustrated. Pressure was starting to build up again, so instead of letting it fester in his mind, he was going to turn that built up stress into action.

"You raised me to be the sole defender of Kun'Lun. But I am aimless without your guidance. I am nothing…" Rand whined haplessly. Fear can really turn someone into an ineffectual, blathering wimp. Hopefully the others like him throughout the Multiverse aren't like that.

Pupil he had enough trying to talk him through it. There was a job to do, and he needed the Dragon Fist to do it. Nothing mattered then except the mission, and Tim was intent on completing to save the dozens in the Asylum. He was done being nice, "Screw it, enough platitudes. I'm doing this Luke's way." He then fired off a brief, burst of energy from his eyes; it was the equivalent of a very hard punch to the stomach.

The optic punch knocked the wind out of Rand. He took several deep breaths to recover, harnessing his chi energy just as he did before the injection. His body could focus on healing him, purifying his ailed mind and soul. Soon after, he was himself again. "Ugh, okay, thank you Pupil. That reaper's toxin sure packs a punch. What do we do now?"

Pupil sighed in relief that Dragon Fist was back to his stoic, dry self. "Follow me, you need to use your dragon hand to stop Bane. I don't know if that means kill him or not, but I'm open to either at this point. I am very tired," he admitted exhaustedly. Fighting a hoard of crazed lunatics and then your own inner demons take a lot out of you.

Richard took a deep breath and flared his fist, "Alright, let's do it."

Somehow, the Purple Joker managed to escape past the Blind Bat to make it outside. This could have happened in a myriad of ways. Joker could have forced enough of his pheromones into the Bat's system to force him into a catatonic state long enough for him to escape. Maybe he got a lucky stab in, and the Blind Bat finally passed out from blood loss. Perhaps the Purple Joker just got lucky, and something heavy fell on him. Each of these outcomes were equally likely. If the Joker's origin story was to be multiple choice, why not this?

He looked over to see that Typhoid Ivy was consoling an incapacitated Jeweled Jester; the emotional tenderness all but sickened him, "Ugh, gag me with a screwdriver."

Ivy shot a glare towards Joker, "I have half a mind to snap your neck." She then focused hard to summon all the flora she had hidden away within the lobby. Tendrils of thorny vines surrounded the Purple Joker, ready to strangle him.

Joker looked around at the vegetative weapons, letting out an amused chuckle. "You know, Ivy, Joan had always spoke so highly of the…two of you. Controlling plants, immunity to poisons, I think she said something about using pheromones to control people, yourself! I'm shocked we never had the joy of working together! We would make a hell of a power couple," he proposed with a devilish smirk.

Ivy forced the vines to ensnare Joker, "What makes you think I would ever work with you after what you've done to this poor sap?! You're a parasite, a pest to be exterminated."

Joker seemed to shimmy and squirm around in his current bindings, "Because deep down, I know you're scared. Sure, I know you think I'm a devil for molding my dear, sweet Joan into someone worth a damn, but you do almost the exact same thing!" he asserted with a chortle.

"You, my dear Ivy, are an additional force attached to an innocent, pathetic woman's mind, forcing her body to commit a series of acts of violence for personal gain! If anybody here is a parasite, it's you! Oh, the hypocrisy is just delicious!" Joker cackled with self-serving egotism. He would say anything to justify his actions, but this specific excuse did ring true for the alternate personality, at least on some level.

Ivy's vines started to loosen their grip. "No. I make her strong. I protect Mary. We're turning over a new leaf. Things are gonna be different between us," she reinforced, but with a waver to her voice.

"And for how long? Are you really just going to stay out of the driver's seat forever? Just standing aside until she needs protection? Eventually, you're going fade away into nothing, because she won't need you anymore," the Joker described with a haunting grin. He took delight in the idea of her disappearing from Maria Iseley's mind. All the while, he continued to squirm. "We both know what happened to Harvey's other half; zip, gone like a puzzle piece into a vacuum! Are you really prepared to join the dust bunnies Ms. Typhoid?"

Ivy's eyes darted around in rapid thought. She hadn't often considered the ramifications. She believed herself only existing for Maria's betterment, her own identity was a means to an end for her benefit. But if she was going to be fine without her, was she prepared to let Maria, and herself go?

Among the Purple Joker's vast power, where he shined the most was in his tact. Beneath the sinister giggles and guffaws, was a man who knew how to expertly manipulate someone without even needing his pheromones. The right words could be used to tear someone down so far, that all they see themselves as is a joke. To the Purple Joker, the human condition was the greatest joke of all.

Additionally, a good psychoanalysis gave him enough time to send out a concentrated burst of pheromones into the vines which were holding him. Typhoid Ivy's chlorokinesis was a result of manipulating pheromones as well. So, if Joker had enough time and direct contact with the vines to overpower her own, he could wrestle control of them for himself.

"Alright, I've had my fun. Plants, swat her away!" Joker commanded as the vines turned against their original master, smacking Ivy away from the incapacitated Joan.

Ivy tumbled to the ground, "What," this had never happened to her before. She was quite confused.

"Word to the wise, Guac-Face, don't let a supervillain buy time with a monolog! We can use them to our advantage, too, y'know," Joker advised as he clenched his fist, "Strap her down until I'm out of here," he ordered to the vines under his control. The tangle of vegetation slammed down, burying itself through the ground to restrain Ivy to the floor. She would try to struggle and bring more plants to her aide, but it was all in vain.

Once Ivy was down for the count, Joker looked down at the fearstriken Joan, "Oh dear, you're broken again. Well, I fixed you once, I can do it again," he lamented before lifting her up, and carrying Quinzel out of the Asylum bridal style.

Titans continued to clash as Luke Bronze and Wilson Bane continued to exchange blows. Recovering inmates watched in awe from their cells for which they couldn't currently escape from due to Lorna's metal meddling. The two giants slugged and swung at each other with gusto. Kingpain relished in a fight against a man who had actual superhuman levels of strength and durability, meanwhile Luke was rushed with adrenaline as he slashed away at the brute with his clawed gauntlets.

As Bane garnered more and more strength from the Venom, he put more and more pressure on the feline-themed combatant. His fists hit like tons of bricks, not scratching his skin, but rather forcing the Man of Bronze into the floor. "Why won't you fall, boy?!" he shouted with rage as Bane continued his onslaught.

Luke held strong, standing firm in place as he guarded and countered whenever he could. "Because I'm a goddamn hero for hire, and I get the job done no matter what," he answered through gritted teeth. He then jabbed his claws right into Bane's chest, and by hitting the perfect weak spot in his body, he drew blood.

As Bane clutched his chest, he looked at his hand to see his blood mixed with a neon green hue. But before he could get a further look, the properties of the venom sealed the gash right back up. "Ah, so even with an opening, it will seal itself up and pressure will continue to build. Thank you, Doctor Crane," he observed out loud with a satisfied grin.

"That venom, it's expanding, ain't it? Using everything in your body to replace with pure power, pure force. You're a damn bomb!" Luke exclaimed.

"Now you get it, Gatito. I shall turn this prison into a tomb, not just for myself, but for all of those who stood against me. All of the people in here before have worked for me at some point, and when I fell, they abandoned their king. Now, I take the kingdom to Hell!" Bane raised his arms and slammed Luke into the ground, leaving craters in his wake.

By now, Dragon Fist and Pupil returned to the makeshift arena created by the Kingpain's smashing. "Do you know what to do with him?" Tim asked worriedly.

Richard looked down at Tim, now also worried, "I thought you knew what to do."

"Bats told me you would've had a plan!" Pupil shouted in panic. Pressure was starting to build up within himself again. As Luke sent another slash against Bane, Tim figured out a way to stop Bane from going out with a Bang. His tactical mind raced as instead of how things could go wrong, he realized the exact path to take to make things go right.

Bane would then pick Luke up and hurl him towards Pupil and Dragon Fist like a bowling ball. "Run away, puny children! The clock is ticking!"

As Luke careened towards the two of them, Dragon Fist focused his chi, outstretching his hand forward. As the large black man touched Rand's hand,he absorbed and redirected Luke's kinetic energy to bring him to a stop, and then reverse Suplex the man so that he ended standing upright. All chi was just a change in the flow of energy, any kind of energy if channeled properly. "You're welcome, Luke," Rand said with a dry wit.

Luke looked at Rand impressed, "Damn, that was cool."

"Alright, so guys, I have a plan!" Tim announced.

"I'm good with anything at this point, whatcha got?" Richard asked.

The plan was executed as such. Bane continued to rampage, pulsing to the point where he was almost ready to explode. He targeted a fleeing Dragon Fist, until he was stopped in place by Pupil. He would then force an endless assault of optic blasts to keep him occupied. The place he was stopped was ideally the crater created by Bane repeatedly smashing Luke like a man severely angry at a Nokia cell phone.

Luke then charged in against Bane. The location of his next strike was determined by Dragon Fist. Above the spot where Pupil was blasting, he would slash against the Kingpin's chest, causing him to bleed blood and venom. And as Tim's blasts connected with Bane's body, the blood was essentially being forcibly expelled from his body. It was an absolutely gruesome sight, but Bane was indeed getting weaker.

"You think relieving such little from me at a time would stop me. I'm losing more of my own natural fluids than venom. Your fate is inevitable," Kingpain boasted as he started to pulse to the point where he was about to explode.

Right before detonation, Dragon Fist leapt upon Caged Tiger's shoulders, and sent his magic fist right into the exacerbated puncture wound, using the dragon's chi magic to serve as a chemical filter. It pushed the vital fluids inside the body while letting the volatile stuff out. Instead of a slurry of blood and super steroids, it was just the venom which drained from Bane's body. Bane tried to struggle against this, but he lost strength rapidly. Eventually, he shrunk back to the proportions of a fat and flabby slob. All the stretched-out skin left him worse off than before. But with careful implementation of chi, Wilson Bane's heart would properly beat without assistance of any venom. He would never require any of the stuff to survive anymore. But after everything he underwent, Bane was thoroughly unconscious.

Luke picked up the shrunken Bane by the scruff of his neck like a stray cat, "Phew, that was a close one. So…where do we put him?"

"Probably downstairs, if there's still a cell left to put him in," Dragon Fist answered as he looked at his fist. It was designed to be a weapon of a warrior, but he used it to be a healing tool of sorts. Perhaps there was more to what he had to offer than just a vengeful fighter.

Pupil looked to the Kingpain and chortled, he was relieved to have the pressure of an explosion averted. "You're taking the easy way out, Bane. I guess you'll be facing your entire sentence. Good plan Luke," Tim praised before looking out towards the lobby. "I should go check on Bats and the Blade. Great job, guys!"

Luke and Richard exchanged glances, "So the kid's plan was really gross, right?" Luke asked with some aversion to what just happened.

Rand nodded, "Yes, but it yielded no casualties and still succeeded in the objective. The Bat has trained his ward well," he concluded. "I'd like to think the next generation is in good hands."

Luke smiled, "You're a part of that too, Junior. And I wholeheartedly agree." He added with a playful elbowing to Rand's shoulder.

Richard then looked around at some of the rubble left behind from the fight, "I think the kid left us on clean up duty."

Luke's smile faded as he realized Rand's observation was correct, "Shit."

The Purple Joker stepped past the threshold of the Asylum doors with an elated grin plastered across his face. He took his first breath of fresh air in a long time. Joan lay dormant in his arms, still reeling from the horrifying reality check. "You know, this reminds me of the joke about two escaped inmates and a flashlight, anybody care to hear it?" he asked jovially as he looked upon his audience.

Surrounding the front of the Asylum was a fleet of twenty Goth's Kitchen Police Department, headed by Commissioner Paxton Gordon, Detective Francis "Warhead" Bullock, and surprisingly, Nightfog. While the Inquizitor had created a signal jammer and virus to shut down Sybil's computers and surveillance equipment, that didn't stop her from using her regular cell phone. Nygma was clever, but sometimes he was a bit shrotsighted. With it, she called her Police Commissioner father and her semi-retired superhero colleague to come to the scene for backup. They were at a healthy range, a twenty-yard radius away from the man with mind-control pheromones. He couldn't infect and control any of them at their current distance.

Bullock pumped and aimed a shotgun towards Joker, "I've been waiting to end this freak for years," he said eagerly.

Gordon put out his hand above the barrel of the gun, "Easy, Warhead. Don't shoot. He's got a hostage. Everyone, keep your distance!"

"Hostage?" Bullock scoffed, "Commish, are yer cataracts are getting' to ya?! That's the damn Jeweled Jester!" he protested bluntly. "Just let me blow his head off!" The gung-ho policeman was errant on ending the violet monster's life as soon as possible. But as of now, he didn't have a clean shot.

"Doctor Quinzel's been Joker's hostage for years, Bullock. Show some compassion," Nightfog asserted as he readied his escrima batons.

"Yeah, that hostage bashed my face in a year ago. Forgive me for not being too sympatico," Bullock retorted with a roll of his eyes.

"Anybody got a clear shot on him?" Gordon asked looking around at his fellow officers.

"Not at this distance, and with Quinzel, there's too much risk." Foggy answered for them. The lawyer in disguise remained antsy through it all. He had left the courthouse in a rush to help handle this issue and wanted to get this over with. As much as he didn't want to be here, he felt that if he wasn't, something terrible would happen.

Joan slowly returned to consciousness. She looked up to see the face of her lover in abject terror. For the first time in years, her mind was free. Instead of seeing the face of a man she loved, she finally saw the monster for what he truly was. "No no no no no no, get away!" she scrambled away from him in a panic, but the Purple Joker had her clutched in his arms.

"Don't worry, darling. You've been broken, but I will put you back together again. I'll make you perfect again. I'll make you mine again," he assured in a hushed, breathy voice through a gritted grin.

Quinzel squirmed in his grasp, mortified, "You made me into your puppet, your toy, you're a m-" she tried to protest until Joker put a finger to her lips.

"Hush, my dear. No more words out of you for now. Just smile and look pretty," the maroon menace politely ordered, and despite just being freed from his control, she was compelled to comply with. Joan remained conscious through it, yet she was utterly powerless to stop him.

"Alright, let's get out of here. Bezarro! Get your Horsey Ass down here!" Joker looked to the sky, trying to find Beta Ray Zero waiting to pick them up, but there was nothing. "Come on! I know you can hear me!" And despite his calls, no one came. "Joan, I thought you said you had a ride coming. You didn't lie to me, did you?!" He asked with a twitch of his eye, beginning to grow impatient.

Joan was just as confused as he was. She haplessly shook her head denying any mistruths. He told her no words, so she remained silent.

What they didn't know, was that someone else who had escaped the Asylum had found Bezarro first, and they had fled the scene almost ten minutes prior. The two clowns were on their own.

Soon after, Blind Bat and Pupil rushed to the lobby. The Bat was able to recover just enough from whatever short-term defeat the Joker had dished out just in time. They arrived in a hurry, only to see not only the Polar Blade still under the effects of the toxin, but the Joker and Jester still right outside, "No, we're too late," Tim cried out in a panic.

The Blind Bat glared at the grizzly sight, "No, the pheromones just barely can't reach the cops at that distance. But Quinzel complicates things, her heartbeat is through the roof. She's scared out of her mind, Crane's Toxin maybe," he analyzed, trying to figure out the next course of action. "We can still stop him, if we do things right."

The Purple Joker looked around at the cops holding him at gunpoint. He'd been standing behind Quinzel the whole time, using her as a human shield. "Interestingly enough, both Gordon and Bullock have very sinister halves hiding beneath them, but I guess you can say that about all of you pigs," he joked dryly as he looked down at the ground. The pheromones he excreted which couldn't reach the police had since sunken into the ground, into the grass. While he couldn't make the plants grow rapidly like Ivy, he could still control the plants via his pheromones.

Joker then maneuvered the grass to wrap around the cops' shoes to trip them, thus bringing them into range of his control. This wasn't 100% effective, but it was a rather humid day, and the grass was wet with dew. So, it was also slippery enough to cause at least some of the cops to fall over. "Perfect, now, bring the others into range and aim your guns at yourselves!" This convoluted series of events had the domino effect of bringing all the cops and Nightfog into the range of his sphere of influence, and then they all either pointed their weapons at themselves. Each lawman present now stood on a knife's edge from suicide. None of them had the power to stop this, and with a captive audience, the Blind Bat couldn't do a thing to stop him.

The Blind Bat's heart sank as the grizzly fate became apparent. Joker was going to use the hostages to escape and bring the controlled Jester with him. With the group of cops surrounding Joker, Pupil couldn't get a clear shot with his optic blasts either. Any gap was far too narrow for Tim to hit without blasting others caught in between. He was effectively untouchable. That abominable purple beast was going to run free again, all because of his own failures as a hero.

Purple Joker cackled as he turned around to see the Blind Bat absolutely broken. "Oh my, Batsy and the Crybaby, here to see me off! I'm ever so touched! Boys, if they come any closer, pull your triggers!" he commanded to the police, much to their great terror.

"Not so fast, Joker!" Foggy said jumping past the police and landing in front of him. He held his batons out towards the giggling psychopath. "Drop Joan so I can drop you!" he commanded boldly.

Purple Joker actually stifled a laugh, "You really think you can stop me, Blunderstorm? You've put on a few L.B.'s last we tangled. You're more of a "Night...tule...fog," he commented, seeming disappointed with his own pun.

"Doesn't matter how long I've been out; you're still going down!" Nightfog asserted.

"Eh, knock yourself out," Joker said with a shrug.

Foggy proceeded to knock himself out by bonking his stick on his head. He fell to the ground with a thud. That wasn't part of Purple Joker's plan. He just got lucky with the wording.

"What are you doing now, Joker? What's your endgame?" the Bat called out, desperate to start formulating a counter plan.

"Who knows? Maybe I track down Loxxi and partner up with the old cue ball, maybe I go off and continue my old habits in Goth's Kitchen! All that matters is I'm going to have a good time with my love," Joker announced before he forcibly kissed the enthralled Jeweled Jester. The poor girl was absolutely disgusted for what she was forced to take part in.

"Take one last good look, Bats! Today is the last day your precious city will be the same. Goodbye Goth's Kitchen, say hello to Hell's Ham!" Joker announced. To those who heard the name, they were befuddled. But the title was an inverted name for Hell's Kitchen and Gotham.

Joker sauntered over to one of the police cars with Joan on his arm. Before, her mind was in a constant haze, a blissful ignorance to the hell she was in. But now she was awake in this living nightmare, under the Purple Joker's thumb, and she could do nothing to stop it. Purple Joker stowed Joan into the shotgun seat of the car before climbing upon the top of it for one final grandstand.

Simultaneously, Lorna had finally awoken from her toxin-induced slumber. She was still in a fog, recovering from her first ever dosage. Reality still faced some warping. She groggily stood up and drew her sword. She saw the Blind Bat and Pupil with hopeless looks on their faces. She saw the horde of police officers holding their guns at each other, the helpless civilians. Then she saw the Purple Joker standing on the car, issuing in a new world of madness.

Lorna had learned much about the Purple Joker through stories from her father. She knew how much of a monster he was. She knew what would happen if he were to escape. At first, she hesitated. Despite her bravado, she had not yet taken a life. She didn't know the kind of person she would become if she started down this path. In fact, she could figure out several ways to dispatch the Purple Joker nonlethally due to the versatility of her powers. But she knew that if he still lived, more people, including the strange harlequin lady, would suffer at his hand for years to come. She refused to be complacent in the loss of lives, this was not a nightmare, and she didn't care if she wasn't a hero.

Lorna manipulated her sword into the air with her magnesis and aimed where her weapon would fly. When she knew her aim was true, she cast it off. It sailed through the air like a noble lawn dart. The Purple Joker, Jack Kilgrave cackled and guffawed with glee as he clutched his victory once again. But right before he hopped off the car, he felt the cold steel of a blade pierce through his chest.

He looked down at the weapon, and briefly looked at his assailant across the field of police which were meant to protect him. Joker remembered briefly seeing an insignificant mewling quim of a woman on the ground, he'd completely overlooked her. They had never once interacted, and she was the one who killed him. Not Blind Bat, not Pupil, or even his Jester. Just some random woman who showed up to help that day. He was completely dissatisfied with his own demise. "That's not funny," was all Kilgrave could muster the strength to say. And then, it was over.

Chapter 18: The Calm After the Storm

The Purple Joker's body collapsed off the roof of the squad car with a thud. Life drained from his face as his plum-skinned body hit the dirt. It was if his soul was plucked right out and placed elsewhere. With no will to be enacted on, the pheromones lost their effect on the swarm of police. One by one, they had the ability to finally lower their guns. Fear was replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief.

Commissioner Gordon looked over at the Joker's body. One of the city's worst nightmares, the plague upon all of Goth's Kitchen's free minds, snuffed out just like that. "Well, I'll be damned. It's over," he said before pulling out his lighter, and lighting up another cigarette. Death's Head had reared towards Paxton for a long time. The Joker nearly forcing him to do it himself was just at the bottom of a very long list of close calls. But seeing the clown's corpse was like taking a 50-pound weight off his shoulders.

Lorna was in stunned silence after her kill. For a moment, she felt Jack Kilgrave's soul dissipate from his mortal coil. It was an eerie feeling. Taking her first life made everything else around her seem so meaningless. It wasn't euphoria, or fear, certainly not regret, she just felt numb.

The Polar Blade then looked around to see dozens of eyes on her. She, some random drifter, had slain the Clown Puppeteer of Crime. There was some dark humor in the anticlimax of the woman who killed him had never interacted with him at all. The man who had harmed tens of thousands, orchestrated the deaths of hundreds, and was made the archnemesis of at least four different people, killed by an aloof out-of-towner whom he had never done anything to. And just like that, she became the hero of Goth's Kitchen.

Pupil had put himself between her and the crowd, planting his staff in the ground to establish some kind of boundary, "Give her some space, officers. Just get inside and deal with the people who actually need help, okay?" Tim felt comfortable ordering the cops around, and he wanted to give her the time and space to process what she'd just done. Personally, he was totally okay with her killing Joker, but was aware of the effect of what she did had on…just about everything. As he spoke, the policemen dispersed and filed inside the Asylum to check on the inmates who were thrown into their cells. Additionally, they would run an inventory of every inmate who was still inside. He turned his attention back to the woman of the hour, "Lorna, you good?"

Lorna gave her actions deep thought. This was the second mass of people she'd avenged. This was the second time she took the responsibility of providing justice for others. But this was the first time she truly took a life. Morb Death Man wasn't alive, it was an undead monster. But this, no matter how sinister, was a human man. She believed so much in having to do what others lacked the drive or will to do.

That sense of duty and commitment to a mission was instilled in her by her parents. But they taught her about how to cope with how much fully committing to said mission changes you. She could have stopped Joker any other way, but she didn't. She chose to kill him. If he lived, that was just leaving fate open for him to hurt more people. She did the right thing. It's what her father would've wanted her to do in this situation, right?

The Blind Bat was stunned as he heard the Purple Joker's heart stop beating. A man he had fought against for the better part of 20 years was gone. All the people who he had struck terror into could now sleep easy. The man who crippled Karen, enslaved Joan, murdered Jason, was dead. And he didn't have to be the one to do it. The biggest emotion he felt in the moment was catharsis.

But then the rest of it sunk in. Lorna had killed someone. He was expressly adamant that she didn't. The Bat had believed so heavily in redemption of the soul, and that no one was beyond it. Did he believe that applied to even someone as monstrous as the Purple Joker? No. But it shouldn't be anyone's call to strip away that chance. He had let off Lorna once on a technicality, but he couldn't just let this go.

He was ready to blow up at her, unleash righteous fury for breaking his one rule. He was furious that she chose to be a murderer. The Blind Bat was prepared to bring down the hammer of justice on her, but then he took one long listen to her. He could hear her heart skipping beats, smell the adrenaline pumping through her, he could feel her fear. She had presented herself as a stoic warrior, unafraid to enact her own brutal form of justice to spite the efforts of the League. But she was still just a kid who lost her father. She loved her father, and wanted to do everything she could to do right by him. He empathized with that.

Instead of acting with rage, he chose compassion, "They'll be able to go home to their families tonight. Innocent people can rest easy knowing that he won't be able to control anyone ever again." The Bat placed a hand on Lorna's cloaked shoulder. He was trying to see the bright side to Joker's death, morbid as that was.

Lorna shuddered, "I did what I had to, right? I couldn't stand by and let him get away."

The Bat couldn't lie to her, "You made a choice on how to stop him. I'm not going to tell you if it was right or wrong. I'm just going to say that you'll have to live with it."

Lorna's wavering expression hardened in response to his last remark, "Do you live with how many suffered from you letting him live?" She pulled away from him in reactionary anger.

The Bat was taken aback, but responded firmly, "Yes, every day. But it's not my place to play judge, jury, and executioner."

"It's not your place, I bet your lot says that constantly," Lorna said with anger. "You turned this Asylum into a prison where you can monitor and "rehabilitate" your enemies, just for them to break out and repeat the cycles of tragedy! All of it is to feed your need for control, for Order!" Surprisingly, she was the one who did the blowing up. She also ended up mirroring the phrases that Mr. Scary said to her.

"The Asylum does a lot of good for a lot of people, they all deserve a shot at bettering themselves," the Blind Bat asserted firmly.

Lorna continued to rant. "But when you can finally end it, to finally change the world for the better, you stop because it's "not your place"! You don't care about helping the world, you and your League just care about keeping yourselves in power as our gods!"

"We aren't gods, no matter how your father painted us as such to you," the Bat dissented, "Mankind has to find its own way into the light, we're just here to keep them on the right path."

Lorna sneered at his platitude, "But they never take the right path, do they? Otherwise, your precious justice system would've executed the Purple Joker ten years ago. Injustice begets injustice one after another because you let it fester. And anytime things look like they're going to change, you quash it like the tyrants you are. You're avatars of the Status Quo! That's what Nabu turned my father into, but you all became it by yourselves." She held out her hand and called her sword back. She then promptly put it back in its sheath.

"Lorna, there is so much more to what we do that you don't understand," Pupil chimed in, trying to get her to see the light.

"I understand enough to know that I don't want anything to do with you or your Knights. My father made me think you were different than the rest, but you're the same, just smaller," Lorna concluded. She looked up to the sky and raised her steel-toed boots into the air, shooting off into the air and away from the Asylum.

Bullock walked up to the Blind Bat and Pupil, gazing up at the sky as the Polar Blade fled north. "Eh, shame she didn't stick around. I woulda bought the broad a drink for what she did. New friend of yours, Bats?" he asked callously with a sly smirk.

The Bat remained stoic in response, still processing everything Lorna had told him, "No. This was a one-time operation. Our partnership is effectively over," he answered with disappointment.

"Pupil, go back inside and take point on patient evacuation. Damages sustained to the Asylum will keep it uninhabitable for a while." The Bat instructed, then walking past Bullock to the squad car and Joker's corpse. He took slow, staggered steps. His body was left bruised and battered from the previous battles.

The Blind Bat looked down at the dead body of the Purple Joker. Mulberry-shaded blood pooled into the damp grass. He could instantly smell the stench of death coming off the body more potently than anyone else. The silence and stillness that emanated from Joker's body was almost unsettling. This was once one of his most heinous enemies, a nigh immortal beast of terror who plagued his fair city for almost half his life. Now all that remained was this.

Matthew Wayne hated this man. He took joy in the fact he could never harm another human being again. But despite this, he still felt he owed Joker his last rites. Matt bent down and flipped the body over, so that his face would face the heavens. Only in death, did he finally lose his grin. He reached into a pocket of his utility belt to grab what other than a crucifix. Matt closed the corpse's eyes with his fingers, "May He have mercy on your soul, but let his judgement be fair," he whispered into the dead man's ear as he clutched the cross in his hand. He felt as if he had a moral obligation as a man of God to do this and felt that this would bring peace to the both of them.

He then directed his attention to the jester in the police car. The Bat limped to the passenger door, opening it up to let Joan Quinzel out. He took her hand, brought her out of Joker's shadow, and into the light.

Joan took a series of deep breaths, coping with the gravity of everything she'd gone through. She peeled the domino mask off her eyes, pulled her harlequin hood off her head, and wiped away the white makeup caked on her face. She looked into the rear-view mirror of the squad car, finally seeing her true face after who knows how long. Quinzel broke down into tears, overwhelmed knowing she was finally free. The Blind Bat said nothing, all he did was comfort her with a hug.

About an hour later, the remaining emergency services arrived to handle the rest of the wreckage of the Asylum. Caged Tiger and Dragon Fist received their payment for their help and went on their way. Nightfog was revived and quickly fled the scene to return to the necessary casework he was supposed to be doing in Matt's stead. Pupil had also left at this point as well. At his age, he had college classes to attend. Blind Bat was the only remaining hero at the Asylum, now propped up against Pupil's staff.

When the Bat had learned Mr. Scary had fled the scene, he was frustrated. He didn't want any of his enemies to escape and potentially wreak havoc. But despite that, if him getting away meant the Purple Joker not, it was a tad easier to accept. Scary could be handled. He was hardly within his Top 10 greatest threats to Goth's Kitchen. But as of today, his #1 was dead, #2 was depowered, and #6 and #8 were reformed. All things considered; things could've been a lot worse than his #9 escaping to work for his #10.

As for the inmates, most of them were brought to other hospitals for observation and simple treatment. Those with powers were observed under much higher security. To the Bat's dismay, SHIELD had showed up to contain many of the super-abled patients. The Bat did not appreciate the technology used in the power dampening collars, understanding them to induce a non-negligible level of pain in their wearers. While he understood their use in the hardened prisoners at Bell Raft, they were not befitting of the psychologically damaged patients of Rykers.

Wilson Bane and Victor Bullseye were transported to Black Sea Penitentiary, a prison for those of less than super caliber. With Bane fully purged of his dependency on venom, that was all he was. The Purple Joker's corpse and the dissolved, yet alive remains of Claymeleon were kept in a SHIELD facility for proper containment. Quinzel and Isely were the only remaining patients who required special transport. The terms of which the Bat was working with Agent Phil Faraday on.

"They'll be well taken care of Mister... uh...Bat. The circumstances surrounding them are much different, and will not be treated as hostile," Faraday promised with a kind smile on his face. Despite SHIELD's failures with Belle Raft, Phil was intent on doing the right thing now.

"Forgive me for not giving you my utmost confidence, but I care a great deal for every patient you've taken under your care. If I gain any inkling that they are being mistreated, I will bring the full force of the law upon you," the Bat promised, almost slipping into his Matthew Wayne voice.

"Ah yes, the League's retainer at Wayne, Grayson, and Gordon. I'd hate to incur his wrath. I saw what their guys did to the Osborn Consortium. That Wayne's got the devil in him," Phil replied with a nervous chuckle.

The Bat smirked, "Yes. He does." He moved past Faraday to check on both Joan and Ivy in an armored SHIELD truck. Unlike the rest of the Ryker's inmates, they were neither restrained nor depowered, "I'm trusting you both to cooperate with them. If you play things right, and you'll be able to get out this living normal lives, like you deserve."

"That's the hope," Ivy was the first to respond, "But, I think we have a long road to recovery ahead of us. But Bats, thanks for always staying in our corner." After tangling with Purple Joker, Ivy had to reexamine her relationship with her host alter. She was created within Maria's mind to protect her, but she was made as an angry, violent person with a hatred for humanity in favor of plants instead. But through Maria's healing, the relationship they had now, was that of which Ivy would eventually no longer need to exist. The fear of disappearing is what made her lash out in the Asylum. Nobody fully understood this besides Ivy and Maria themselves, but they knew that they had to properly establish the relationship between the two of them before they could properly rejoin society.

Meanwhile, Joan was still mainly still mentally reeling from all the trauma she had faced under Joker's control. While she would be cleared of any of the crimes she committed under his control, it would be a very long time before she could truly come back to the world. "Yeah…thanks a lot Bats," she said in a very monotone, sullen voice. Her feelings towards the Blind Bat were very complicated. While he was always sympathetic to her plight, and it seemed like he tried a lot to help, the fact he had consistently spared her tormentor left a sour taste in her mouth. Her demeanor became very sour and sullen overall, given how much the world around her seemingly perpetuated what had happened to her. But perhaps over time, she could eventually heal.

After their exchanges ceased, Faraday shut the back of the truck. "We'll be in touch, Mister Bat. I hope we can maintain a positive and professional relationship," he said optimistically before hopping into the front of the truck.

"As do I, Agent," the Bat responded sternly. He read Faraday as an honest man, but he still had trouble trusting the government agent. But at least he seemed like he was trying to make change for the better.

As the SHIELD trucks drove off, the Bat felt a sense of melancholy. The Asylum he spent much of his work as both the Blind Bat and Matthew Wayne to reform and improve was in shambles. As a result, he put those he spent so long fighting in the hands of a government agency he didn't fully trust, but he was left no other option. He was worried about what would happen to them, especially to Maria/Ivy and Joan. But their fates were currently out of his control, and that lack of control sickened him. In addition to sickness, he also felt a very large deal of pain from his injuries. While he maintained stoicism and strength for everyone else, he did need some medical attention. He couldn't afford for anyone from Goth's Kitchen to see him weak.

In this turbulent moment, he put his finger to his earpiece beneath his cowl, tapping into the LMI frequency. "Stark, this is Blind Bat, beam me up," he requested wearily. Just like that, his body dematerialized where he stood, and the Blind Bat no longer stood on this planet.

Seconds later, he returned to existence atop the center of the Watchtower Meeting Table. He felt a sense of peace on the Watchtower. His senses gave him a vast awareness of everything around him. He could hear so much going on around him from up to miles away. As a child it was deafening, but he learned to control it. But in space, there wasn't anything beyond the walls of the station. At least in one sense, the Bat could relax.

To the Bat's surprise, he didn't sense Cyberman helming the controls. Diana was at the monitors, intent on giving Stark some time away from the computers. She was in shock to see the Blind Bat look so battle-damaged. "Great Hera, Matt, are you alright?!" Diana quickly ran up to the table and guided him down. She sat him down in his chair and pulled back his cowl. His face was bloody and bruised. She then began trying to tend to his wounds. Diana carried bandages in her pack, so she began patching up some of the most egregious wounds visible through his suit.

Matt sank into his chair, letting out a sigh of relief that he could finally sit down. "I'm fine, Diana. Please calm down," he assured, placing his hand on her arm. He hated seeing her too stressed given how much she did already for the League. "Just call Don, and he'll fix me up. I'm stable for now, I'm just really, really tired."

Diana sighed and shook her head, "You look like you were crushed by Mt. Olympus, what happened today? Is the Asylum secure?" She was aware of the compassion Matt tried to show his villains. It was one of the things she respected the most about him, and where they shared the most moral common ground. She knew how important its security to continue reforming its inmates was to him.

"The Asylum's closed for reconstruction. Faraday's taking care of the patients. I hope we can trust him, but it was all I could do on such short notice," Matt answered regretfully. "Bane's no longer dependent on venom, so he never needs to touch a drop of the stuff ever again. Which means he can never do this to me again."

Diana listened as she sent a ping to Thunderman's card to call him to the tower as soon as she was available. She then sat down in the chair next to him and held out her hand. She called forth a water bottle from the mess hall. Hydrokinesis had its perks. Once it landed in her hand, she passed it on to Matt. "What about Quinzel and Kilgrave? I know they were the largest concerns."

Matt let out a heavy sigh before cracking open the water bottle and taking a big gulp. "Quinzel's good. She's cured, actually. I didn't think that would ever happen. Although it makes sense how the Fear Toxin reawakened her rational mind so it could experience terror, thus snapping her out of her trance," he answered, falling back on his detective insight to avoid repeating the other news. After a long pause, he continued, "As for Purple Joker…he's dead."

Diana was taken aback, "Matt, you didn't," she rashly assumed the worst at first. She knew how much his code kept him from taking a life. She didn't fully agree with it, but she knew his code made him who he was. Regardless, she was a bit relieved to know someone as dangerous as him was dead.

"No, Diana, of course not. I didn't kill him. Neither did Paxton, Tim, Luke, Richard, not even Joan after she was free. Someone else did. That's the other thing I should tell you," Matt responded, prepared to finally tell the League about Lorna.

Before he could begin, the Watchtower teleporter whirred, and with a flash of light, Thunderman appeared. "Diana, I got the alert. Sorry for the wait, I was dealing with-Od-El's Beard!" His attention was diverted to see the Bat covered in bandages and a much redder costume. "Matt, how much of that is yours?" Thor asked, referring to the blood.

Matt simply shrugged, "I can't really say for sure, Don," he answered waving his hand in front of his own eyes. He called Thunderman by his human name, that's how he preferred to see him.

"Thor, can you use your magic and heal him? We're talking about something important," Diana requested. She referred to Thunderman by his Asgardian name, as she preferred to see him as a god like her.

"Yes, of course. This looks like a job for Thunderman," he said jovially as he stepped off the teleportation pad. He referred to himself by his hero name, as that was how he preferred to see himself, at least in costume.

Thunderman stepped in between Matt and Diana and raised his hammer to the Bat's chest, "Now, my friend, you're going to feel a little shock," he said with a hearty chuckle.

"Just do it, Donald," Matt ordered dryly. This was not a situation he was unfamiliar with, that, alongside the faux warning he'd give every time.

"Fine, fine. Clear," Thunderman then sent a burst of magic lightning through the Blind Bat's badly broken body. Thor-El of Asgard was born to be the God of Tomorrow, meant to bring a new age of prosperity and light to the universe. His powers in turn, alongside everything else he could do, could then bring tomorrow to others. In this context, this meant he accelerated Matt's healing to an extremely fast rate.

His body turned into what he would have been a week from now, recovered from today's injuries. The lightning itself also cleaned and mended the Bat's costume, as the Bat would have done so within the week anyway. This was an ability that Dr. Donald Kent would use sometimes in his medical practice to expedite some processes, but otherwise he was still a very competent doctor without his powers, and he operated thusly.

Matt coughed a little after he was magically fried back to health, "Thank you, Donald."

"You're welcome, Matthew. Though I should ask to determine whether this gets added towards your life debts. What are we on for you now, 39?" Thunderman had known the Blind Bat a few years longer than the rest of the League and had worked together far more often in the past. This led to Thor having to save Matt's life far more often.

Matt rolled his eyes in response, "If we're counting this, I'm counting me taking Mannheim's crowbar," he negotiated with a light smirk. Thunderman was always the one to ease the tension between the harder parts of the job. But they had to get back to business. Matt had to reveal his failed pet project to his teammates.

Diana placed a hand on Thor's shoulder, "There are other matters we must discuss, Thor. Anyway, if you didn't do it, who did kill the Purple Joker?" she asked sternly to Matt.

Thor's expression turned shocked, "What? That bastard's finally dead? That's great!"

"It has come to my attention that the Fatal Compass had a third daughter. Her name is Lorna Toru, she's Japanese. I had encountered her once before last night, starting a week ago. She was the attempted robber of the Helm of Iscariot. In hopes of keeping an eye on her, I brought her along to help guard the Asylum. In turn, she was the one who killed Jack Kilgrave," Matt explained with a clinical monotone.

Thor almost seemed betrayed at this reveal. He knew the Bat kept a lot of secrets, but for how long they'd known each other, to keep something as important as this was shocking. "Why didn't you tell us about this? Jessica deserves to know she still had family out there!" After his tumultuous history with his brother, disappearing family was a touchy subject for him. Regardless, he still trusted that his friend had his reasons and held his judgement for now.

"She didn't want to be a part of this life. She tried robbing the history museum because she wanted to keep her father's helm from corrupting anybody else. Lorna resents us for taking her parents from her," the Bat answered as he reaffixed his cowl to his face. "Her mother died when Erik wasn't there to protect them, and he died protecting us. I was honoring her request, hoping she would leave quietly after I took the help. Evidently, I was wrong."

Diana let out a small "Hm," as she watched Matt hide himself behind his mask again. "I understand what you were trying to do. If you truly wanted to give her a quiet exit, I would respect that. But why did you take her to the Asylum? Why did you bring her closer to our world?" She was disappointed in Matt. A lot of things had disappointed her recently. She started to resent how much this job lent to that feeling.

"She had just dispatched a supervillain who had come to Goth's Kitchen from her home. She did it without killing him or his goons. I knew she hated the kind of work we do because of how it consumed her father. I was hoping that by showing her the Asylum, she'd see the other side of our work. I wanted her to see that not all we do boils down to violence, but protection. If I could have gotten her to see the light, then I would've shown her to the League," the Bat answered honestly. He really did want to mold Lorna into a true hero. He wanted to bring her up to his standards before giving her a spot in the League.

"What can she do, how did she do it, and where is she now?" Thor had asked in succession. He was frustrated with his friend, but he realized his intentions were mostly pure. The God of Tomorrow knew how the Dark Knight Without Fear thought. He made a bad call, but it was to try and make the League stronger. He didn't like it, but after hearing his reasoning, it at least felt more in character.

"She doesn't seem to possess any mystical powers beyond her father's signature spell: Magnesis. She couples it with a katana she calls the "Polar Blade". Whether that name indicates greater magnetic potential, or other abilities, remains unknown to me," the Bat answered, regretfully beginning to play back the memory of the death. "Joker was about to escape, holding several officers at self-gunpoint. I couldn't do anything. She launched the sword at long range with her powers to impale Kilgrave. Despite the wound not seeming immediately lethal, he died near instantly. She then called it back and flew away via steel toes in her boots." The circumstances of how it happened still ate away at him. He was completely at Lorna's mercy to save those lives.

"Metal control is no small feat, having that back on the team would have been handy," Thor commented as he looked down at the metal head of his hammer.

"With someone with that kind of power, and so emotionally volatile, having her on the Watchtower would not have been smart. At least not until you knew she could be trusted," Diana added in, trying her best to rationalize his actions. She still cared a great deal about Matt, despite his flaws.

But the secretive loner charade had gotten old. "You still should have told us. Not trusting us with this information makes the team weaker. Hiding behind your part-timer status only gives you so much. And now she's who knows where, what are we supposed to do with her?" Diana asked in frustration.

"Actually, we do know where she is," the Blind Bat interjected. He pulled a small device from his utility belt. "I placed a tracker on her the night before. Sybil has her location via satellite, which I get updates on via this."

Thor let out a dry chuckle, "Of course you did. One of your oldest damn tricks."

Diana looked at the device on the table, "How do you suggest we handle her then? Since you've been so keen on doing all of this yourself."

Matt sighed, he deserved that remark, but it hit like a slap to the face. "We keep our distance, but we monitor her intently. She can't know we have tabs on her," he then listened as the device gave an updated set of coordinates to where Lorna was at the moment. He recognized the area as near the American Southeast. "I have someone in that area I can call to keep an eye on her."

"What about Jessica, we can't just keep this from her," Thor reminded. He cared a great deal about how this affected her in particular.

"Let's hold off until we get a concrete analysis of her behavior. We don't know whether having them meet will actually be good for her," Matt argued. "I would hate to think that my father was hiding a secret sister from me for 20 years, only for when we meet, she was to hate me on principle."

Matt's response made sense to Thor. He had a point, but this felt too important to keep hidden. "Look Matt, I see where you're coming from, but no. Something like this will get wind eventually, and we can't let the rest of the team be caught unaware."

Diana didn't like it; she hated the thought of lying to her. "Jessica deserves to at least know she exists. It's going to blow up in our faces if we never tell her, and she finds out we hid it. She deserves the truth above all else."

Matt grumbled at the thought, but he knew she was right. "Fine. But I'm telling her, myself." He was planning to do that on his own terms.

"No, you're not," Thor quickly shot down, "She needs someone with a bit more…tact." He then walked over to the console, "And to make sure she actually does find out, and can absorb this knowledge, I'm telling her now." He punched in some coordinates and stood onto the teleportation pad. Thor didn't have the most faith in Matt on this. He loved the guy like a brother, but Matt was a brother who made some aggravating choices.

Matt was visibly annoyed at this responsibility being usurped. Thor responded to this with a playful slap on the back, "Chin up, my friend. You need not carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. That's why we're here," he assured him with a smile. "You screwed up, but you yielded before things got too bad. Just let us play to our strengths, you play to yours, and everything will turn out fine."

"Probably for the best, be careful, Thor," Diana warned. "She's fragile."

"You think so little of me, Lady Di," Thor said with a smile as he was awash with the light of the teleporter, "In comparison to everything I've dealt with my family, this will be a cakewalk to untangle," And just like that, Thunderman was gone.

Silence persisted in the Watchtower for a minute or so. The Blind Bat sat quietly as he stewed in the chewing out, he'd just received. He did what he thought was the honorable thing at the time, but Diana was right. He wanted to make the LMI stronger, but his constant desire to keep everything on himself made the team weaker. "I'm sorry."

Diana let out an exasperated sigh. She put a hand to her forehead, clasping her golden tiara. "I'm tired, Matt." She let it out as if she'd been holding in that truth for over a thousand years.

Matt slouched in his chair, "Look, I know I made a bad call, but I really did want to do good for everyone," he was quick to defend himself. In a split moment, he was afraid of how Diana was going to react. He was afraid of a god's wrath.

"Not with you, just…this. This job, this life, it's draining." Diana's was worn. The years of fighting in man's world had aged her more than the five millennia she spent growing up on Themyscrattilan. The guilt of failing Kamala was just the straw that finally broke her. "We dedicated ourselves to the mission of ensuring justice and peace for the good people of this world. The LMI has to be the guiding symbol to inspire that within them. But to be that, all the time, for them is so much pressure. We have to be these perfect paragons of virtue, and it eats away at you."

Matt gave a sympathetic look, "I know the weight of that burden all too well."

Diana laughed in spite of herself, "'Steban told me something about a week ago. He said that he didn't think he had control over his life. Do you think any of us do?" She asked, sounding like she was about to crack.

"We don't walk this path by choice, it calls us to do what we do. We fight for those who can't, whatever it takes, no matter the cost," Matt replied sagely. His mission had all but consumed his life. Today made him realize that his best days were behind him. The Blind Bat was starting to slow down as he felt the sands of time crash down around him.

"It's not the same for me," Diana explained, "You, Thor, Sarge, Stark, all of you have a life outside of being a hero. You have people to go back to when your day is done. I don't, my life is far too complicated for that. All I do, every day is clean up messes caused by criminals, deal with SHIELD's crap against my sisterhood, and clean up their messes. I can't go home because anytime I do, there's just another catastrophe I'll just have to deal with because my family is full of Gods!" She gripped the base of her skull, pulling at her hair.

"Diana, you're one of the strongest people I know," the Bat praised. "You have given so much to this world. You're a god, with your power, you could have done anything. But you stand by the realm of men as a guardian. I am honored to fight alongside you." He had trouble sometimes seeing past her status, leading to tangents like that.

The Inhuman Amazon sighed; she didn't love being worshipped like Thor did. "That's the thing, though. Despite my time in man's world, I have hardly learned to understand what it means to be human. I came to America to help with the war. Agent Trevor showed me why they were worth fighting for, but all I did was fight."

Diana thought back to her first years in man's world. War was hell for most, but her and the Marvelous Society of America eased the burden by handling the threats the Allied forces could not. Her eyes displayed horror at the things she saw during her time in Europe. "I was there when we found Erik. We were in awe when we saw that hellish place was liberated by a child. Gods of the universe far beyond my own had chosen him to enact divine Order, but they robbed him of living a normal life. I should have stuck around after the war, to keep an eye on him. He probably wouldn't have been so consumed by the Helm's power if he had another god in his corner," she explained with deep regret.

She'd told stories about the war before, but she never opened up about the darkness she faced there. As for Fate, she regretted essentially abandoning him when he likely would've needed her help most. The rest of the MSA were there to guide Erik, but Diana believed she could have done more.

"That wasn't your fault, Diana. Erik had others watching over him, too. He wasn't your sole responsibility," Matt consoled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"After losing Ororo, Alan, and then Sarge, I couldn't handle witnessing more friends die. So, before I could actually live and appreciate the world I swore to protect, I went home. I wasted almost 70 years there before I came back. The I.A. Royal Family wasn't the healthiest dynamic," she added with a weary chuckle. "Then the Four found me, and they convinced me to come back to take of a boom of new Amazons, and everything changed. I worked with SHIELD, helped form the League, and went back to doing what I always did: fight."

She glanced at her reflection in her bracelets. It was warped as she gazed upon herself through her armaments. "I've always envied the tranquility humans received from what we did. To know we're watching over them must be very reassuring," she mused with a sad smile, "I've gotten tastes of peace, but never enough to truly enjoy it."

"You've been back for around six years. You couldn't have spent all your time here just as a warrior and an ambassador," Matt assumed.

"It's not like I haven't tried to give myself a life outside of it. Minerva was my brief, but wonderful reprieve from everything else," Diana grieved, "But she got sucked into this life to try and keep up with me. She lost herself to her own god, like father, like daughter. I turned one of the first people I fell in love with since the 40s into my worst enemy. This is a very lonely existence."

Matt then remembered what sparked this discussion: the Fatal Compass's daughter, "Lorna said she hated us because we perpetuate the cycle of violence. We don't solve the problems with the world. We only clean up the messes so they can be made all over again by someone else. Avatars of the Status Quo, she called us."

"Do you think she's right? I certainly feel like we're in a rut," Diana asked, looking past Matt through the windows to see the Earth below them. "Does anything we do really matter?"

"It's not our job to force the world into changing. All we can do is keep it on course so humanity can find its own way," Matt answered honestly. While it was constantly tested, he still had faith they'd turn out right eventually.

"How do you trust that it'll all be worth it in the end?" Diana asked again.

"You have your gods, I have mine," Matt answered with a solemn smile.

Letting all of this out at once was very cathartic for Diana. The merits of their job meant she didn't have ample opportunity to let her feelings out. She looked across the table at the Matthew Wayne. As the Blind Bat, he was strong, commanding, and he carried himself with the weight of the world on his shoulders. But beneath the cape and cowl, Diana saw a man blessed with a deep compassion, respect, and honor for all life. He was a man who she'd spent years growing to respect and admire. The two of them understood each other in a way the others didn't. The Sergeant had joked in the past how the two looked at each other, but that's all they were: jokes. But maybe the soldier had more insight than that.

Diana reached her hand to Matt's across the table, "Have you ever wanted to go back to being one of them, even just for a little bit?"

"All the time," Matt answered as he was conflicted on what to do next. God knows he wanted to take her hand. She was compassionate, wise, and beautiful beyond compare. Although the latter didn't quite mean as much to him. But the Blind Bat didn't think that a relationship would work out for people like them. Letting raw emotions get in the way of protecting the world could lead to disastrous impacts.

But maybe Diana was right. Maybe they both needed to have something outside of their work which they could retreat to. For now, Goth's Kitchen was free of all the viruses which plagued it. He had one less burden to bear, and this could be his reward for all his hard work. If he could be there for Diana, to show her how to be human, maybe he could stop himself from seeing her as a god and stop subtly fearing her.

Matt took Diana's hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze, but then, he let go. "But there's a lot going on right now. Luthorson is planning something big, SHIELD is becoming ever more invasive, and Lorna is a bit of a wild card. I'm not saying no, I do want this, but not now. The world's not ready for us yet."

Diana put her hand back in her lap. She was disappointed for sure, but she put on a smile despite it. It was the same manufactured grin she'd wear for the people she saved so they'd believe everything was going to be okay. "I understand, our time will come eventually," she said through gritted teeth. Matt could even hear the strain in her facial expression.

"That said, if you ever need someone to talk to, you'll have someone who'll listen," the Bat had added, reaching a half-measure for now. He didn't believe he could handle a relationship, nor did he feel he deserved one with someone like Diana. This was something he could control. He could still accomplish what he wanted with her this way, while also giving her what she wanted. That was how he saw it at least, cold and calculating as it was.

Diana was disappointed. She felt that time wouldn't be anytime soon. Regardless, she was hopeful that she'd one day see…

The Calm After the Storm

Chapter 19: Inner Demons

Meanwhile, at the S.S. Doom, Beta Ray Zero landed back on the deck with an unexpected passenger. Professor Lawrence Z. Crane, alias Mister Scary, had hijacked the Purple Joker's intended transport and hung the clown out to dry. While yes, the two had grown a professional respect for each other over the years, personally, Crane found Kilgrave absolutely repugnant. So, no love was lost at snatching away Joker's getaway.

Once Mr. Scary had worked his chemistry on the mysterious swordswoman, he fled to the roof of the Asylum. Bane's rampage provided the perfect distraction for him to flee upward. Once he had ascended, Crane called out to the false Asgardian and ordered him to bring him to the Legion's flagship. It didn't take a lot of convincing for Bezarro to oblige, as he had also hated Joker. The poor sap was still worried about dear Joan, but he would get over it. Everything that had transpired in the Asylum had gone to plan. Not to Loxxi's, but to Nygma's.

Lawrence hopped off Bezarro's back and approached the door, "Traveling off you was wonderfully swift, my friend. You are a truly fascinating specimen," he said to the beast in a very positive tone. Professor Crane was a master of psychology, and when it came to Bezarro, he knew how to utilize reverse psychology to confuse the monster with a clash of words and tone. He took pleasure in stupefying the big lug.

Beta Ray Zero stalled as he tried to figure out what exactly Professor Crane meant. He was working hard to try and understand things the way everyone else did. The tone implied something positive, but the words meant something so harsh to him. He missed the Jester; she was simpler to understand. "Ugh…me brain hurt," He clutched his head in confusion as he tried to understand.

Mr. Scary tugged at his leather gloves before knocking on the door. As he awaited its opening, he adjusted the rest of his attire so he could make a good impression for the rest of the villains. When his ex-co-worker told him about an exciting new venture, Crane was initially averse. He was a medium sized fish in a small pond. Moving to the ocean, literally in this case, seemed too much for the scientific minded menace. But when he learned that he'd be working alongside Yon-Sinestro, the cosmos's master of Fear, he was instantly sold on the basis that he'd work with his idol. With one of Sinestro's yellow rings, Crane could unlock the secrets of terror and horror in ways he never could have dreamed.

The front door shifted open to reveal the ship's interior. The seven current inhabitants looked to the front to see Mr. Scary, receiving mixed reactions. Of the myriad, the primary one was confusion. "And now, let me properly welcome the Clown Puppeteer of Crime…eh, what?!" It had seemed that Loxxi was preparing to introduce Purple Joker to the Legion with some dramatic speech, only for it to be all for naught when he hadn't been the one behind the door. "What the hell is he doing here?!" Loxxi shouted in fury.

Minerva popped her claws in response to Luthorson's visceral reaction, "Who is this grim reaper, wannabe?"

Kamala was the first to chime in and answer, "That's Mr. Scary, he's one of the guys who worked under Kingpain in Goth's Kitchen. He uses a gas to make people live their worst fears through hallucinations," she quickly expositioned as if on cue.

Sonic Manta scoffed at hearing Crane's alias, "Mister Scary, that's the most ridiculous moniker I've ever heard. What, was medical school so difficult that you couldn't call yourself Doctor?" he mocked with a reverberated laugh.

Meanwhile, Toymandarin paid no attention to Mr. Scary. He was fidgeting away at a tablet, browsing through the internet to see how many new toys had come to light since he'd been put away. He was also looking at inspiration for new designs for weaponry.

Yon-Sinestro cocked an eyebrow in intrigue, "Quiet, fish man. The man in rags piques my interest." He clenched his fist, causing his yellow ring to glimmer. A beam of light shot from Sinestro's hand, itself also becoming a hand, grabbing Mr. Scary from the entryway, and dragging him front and center before the other Legionnaires.

Crane was starstruck upon contact with Sinestro's construct. He could feel the energy radiating off it, and his adrenaline spiking to levels akin to terror by just being in its presence. It was exhilarating to him. He looked up to the roundtable he sat in the center of, primarily to Yon-Sinestro. "Mister Sinestro, sir, I must be transparent. I am a big fan of your work," he said with great reverence. Once Kree released Crane from his grasp, he immediately kneeled before them.

Finally, Nygma decided to speak up, "Welcome Lawrence, we've been awaiting your arrival for some time. I assume everything in Ryker's went to plan?" the Inquizitor inquired as he adjusted his glasses.

Scary smirked behind his mask, "It went swimmingly, Wesley. Ivy's actions towards Quinzel were as predicted, my emergency venom did wonders for our old employer, and I have never seen the Blind Bat so bloodied. Not to mention how many prisoners were subjected to my toxin. I must say, this has been one of my better days."

"Yes, well, this reunion is very nice and all, but can you please tell me WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" Loxxi seethed with frustration. "The plan was to bring Purple Joker here, so we could harvest his blood, and use its properties to pacify anyone who resists our changes to reality. But I see no Joker, and that means that whole operation was a waste of time!"

"Well, maybe he got out with the rest of them. I can blitz around the Kitchen, and snatch him out," Minerva offered up, trying to remedy her leader's anger.

"Oh, no. That won't be possible," the Toymandarin spoke up in his eerie voice.

Loxxi grimaced, "And why is that Mr. Winwu?" He asked as his eye started to twitch.

"Sorry to tell you, Mr. Luthorson, but the Puppet Master's dead," Winwu answered as he held up his tablet to reveal a news report from the Goth's Kitchen Gazette announcing as such. "A lady in a green cloak with a magic sword did it."

Loxxi Luthorson's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. He raised his hand in the air; it started glowing with green light as Nygma's whole body did the same. The two entities then collided as Wesley was telekinetically dragged across the table. His neck was then clasped firmly in Loxxi's grip as if he called forth Thor's hammer.

Everyone around the table was in shock. Minerva popped her claws again, prepared to dispose of the body if needed. Kamala embiggened her fists to rather separate them and deescalate the situation. Winwu and Sinestro readied their rings, and Manta his cannon to defend themselves in case they were next.

Loxxi held Nygma in a death grip, it was the same one Ghanoseid had used six months prior to nearly kill him. "This was your doing, wasn't it? You betrayed the mission just to dispatch your old rival," he accused with venom in his voice. "You are a small, petty, weak-willed coward of a man. Give me one good reason not to eliminate your measly existence, right now!"

Nygma squirmed in Loxxi's grasp, helplessly trying to escape, "Understand I had your best interests at heart, sir. Joker would have been a severe liability to the cause, I did what I knew would benefit you in the long run. And you still need me to decipher the logistics!" Wesley answered in a panicked frenzy.

Loxxi chortled, "You think you're the only one who could have done it? You one-man think tanks come by the dozen. You were just the first one who ate up my offer. What I don't have is a man who can alter perception of reality without telepathy!" He began squeezing harder on the Inquizitor's windpipe, ready to expel his frustration.

Nygma barely had the air to choke out, "Actually…you do." He weakly raised his arm to point towards Mr. Scary.

This was Crane's time to shine, "Don't you worry, sir. You won't need him to provide you with a proper cognitive anesthetic," he assured. He reached into his cloak and retrieved a vial hidden within a compartment on his fear gas cannister. As he opened it, cold mist billowed out from beneath his rags.

"Forgive me, but terrifying billions into accepting their new reality is not what I intend to do. I'm done trying to rule the world through fear. This requires a gentler touch," Loxxi denounced as his remark earned a glare from Sinestro. During this, he dropped Wesley to the ground. The matchstick man reeled on the ground, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh no, of course not. This is something far more special," Crane shined the vial against the spotlight hanging over the table. The liquid within carried a magenta hue. It looked like Joker's blood. "I've been taking samples of Joan Quinzel's blood. Nygma and I captured her once during a gang war we had with Joker, years ago. Given her proximity to Kilgrave, and how he enjoyed her company, there are select traces of his blood, and therefore pheromones, attached to her DNA. It's how I synthesized those inoculations for you all. Funny how that ended up being unnecessary." He explained with a chortle.

Loxxi was impressed by Crane's ingenuity, "So, does this mean that you can mass produce his pheromones for that stage of the plan?"

Mr. Scary stored the vial back in his cannister, "I'll need time and the proper resources, but yes. You'll get what you want, and so will I."

Loxxi glanced over to Wesley, "I assume you've brought him up to speed on everything?" he asked nonchalantly, as if he didn't nearly just strangle the Inquizitor to death a minute prior.

Wesley slowly rose to the table, sat back in his chair, and readjusted his tie and glasses. "Yes sir, this was always my intention to replace Joker's utility with someone I knew we could trust," he explained in a hushed voice. He continued to hold his throat after that terrifying experience.

The Inquizitor was hardly given the respect he felt he deserved. He was extremely intelligent, but he felt that competence was constantly overlooked because of his mild-mannered demeanor. The Kingpain had always treated Wesley well, but the disparity in their statures led to few criminal cohorts having the same reverence. His quiz and riddle gimmick garnered some ire as well. The criminal underworld saw Wesley Nygma as a joke, nothing but a lapdog to the Kingpain.

He was desperate to prove himself a competent solo-supervillain after the fall of Bane. His employer had entrusted him to run Goth's Kitchen while he was away, and he failed miserably. He had the plans, but he couldn't command the same presence he relied on Bane for in the past. Nygma always felt he was doomed to play lackey to someone else, and now he was working for someone who didn't even value him. Nevertheless, he remained devoutly loyal to whoever signed his checks, hoping his talents and merit would eventually win out in the end.

Loxxi looked towards Mr. Scary and grinned, "Well, with all that in order, welcome to the Legion of Masters, Lawrence." He extended his hand across the table to officially bring him aboard.

Lawrence Crane pulled back his hood and popped off his gas mask. A hiss of air rushed out as his face was revealed once again. He held the mask to his side so he could look Loxxi in the eyes as he shook his hand, "The honor is all mine, Mr. Luthorson."

"Please Lawrence, we're peers now. Call me Loxxi," and so, a new Legionnaire was born.

Within the ever-shifting floors within the Tower of Fate, Jessica was undergoing some familial bonding with her dear Uncle Khlarion. And by bonding, I mean rigorous training exercises. Within the non-Euclidean layout of the tower, the Emerald Witch tried to navigate the confusing landscape. Walls and floors levitated around the confines of the tower, creating new corridors to everywhere, staircases to nowhere, and battlegrounds which did not fully operate within the laws of conventional physics. She made a series of wrong turns and escalations, forcing her to be completely turned around.

Jessica was currently upside down on the bottom of a slab of stone aimlessly drifting through the liminal space. The fluid gravity made her feel somewhat queasy. "Uncle, are you sure that this is necessary for me to work with? Gravity is pretty standard wherever I go," she asked unsurely, as she flared her ring with light. The emerald glow was now combined with black crackles.

The darkness within the light was Khlarion's doing. With Jessica's lantern's stores of willpower locked behind an oath she forgot; the demon child used his powers to force the energy within it directly into her ring. Magic of the Green Mystics was beholden to restrictions and disciplines, Khlarion's chaos magic spat in the face of all of that and brute forced reality to his own will. That willpower now being what powered Jessica's ring.

The witch boy in the wheelchair sat above on a ledge overlooking the scene akin to Relativity by M.C. Escher. All the while, he gently petted his precious raven. "Completely, Jessie! Our power derives from what can be! The less you focus on what should be, the better!" By expanding the realm of possibilities to a theoretical environment, her capabilities should also potentially increase. "Now, let's make things interesting," he said as he snapped his fingers.

The bird flew from her perch on Khlarion's chair. Miss Tiquel spun around mid-flight. Dark blue feathers swirled around the familiar as she took on her true, more humanoid form. She landed at the other side of the room with a flourish. Piercing yellow eyes stared into Jessica's soul as the feathers on her wing-arms sharpened into blades. She never spoke a word that the Witch could understand, but Jessica could always sense the birdwoman was communicating with her uncle.

The Emerald Witch looked at Miss Tiquel uneasily, "She's not going to seriously hurt me, is she?" She asked looking up to Khlarion.

"Probably not, but who am I to say she's not going to slice you to ribbons," the boy answered, emphasizing the last part out loud to his familiar.

Miss Tiquel quickly ran across the warped arena. The lissome avian traversed the treacherous terrain with ease. She ran on walls and even under floating platforms before jumping down to slash at Jessica with her feathers.

Jessica instinctively put up a shield of emerald light with her ring to defend against the initial strike. She took a step back and turned the shield into a large fist and send it straight forward to knock Tiquel back. She was rusty with her constructs, but she still knew the basics of using it for combat.

The bird lady rolled with the punch, but she ended up tumbling through one of the ever-shifting staircases. She dashed through the halls, emerging from one side of the tower to another. The raven sent flurries of razor-sharp feathers from her wings whenever she passed by a opening as she traveled the non-Euclidian space.

Jessica had no way of knowing where her feathered assailant was going to pop out from next. Anywhere she ran would end up leading somewhere different. The feathers darted through the air and flew around Jessica. She ended up creating constructs of fans to blow the feathers away. Some were blown away, but the mystical nature of the shots sent them flying back to their target. Most stabbed into Jessica's jade jacket, but others passed through and pierced her skin. She flinched, but she wasn't badly injured.

The Emerald Witch thought for a moment. There was no use chasing Miss Tiquel through the tower. Getting anywhere in a place like this would be a fool's errand. But if she stayed in one place too long, more of her feathers would cut her up.

And as she stood in rumination, the next assault came from below her. Somehow the raven had gone across a horizontal staircase and ended up a floor below. As they careened towards Jessica, she retaliated with a blast of energy. The shot crackled with both green and black light as it punched straight towards the direction of the feathers. Tiquel would retreat through the staircase and end up somewhere else, but Jessica maintained her will. Instead of being a single blast of light, it was a continuous stream of energy which chased the bird through the tower. It would follow the bird wherever she fled.

Jessica watched as the bird scrambled through the terrain. The blue figure soared around the space as the green beam chased her like a comets tail. At the same time, keeping this extensive construct up was exhausting. Consistent output like this was like tensing a muscle, and she hadn't left her home for six months. But within minutes, the entire interior of the tower looked like a laser security grid straight out of a spy movie.

Miss Tiquel tried circling back to hit Jessica head on. Admittedly, the familiar underestimated the girl. The Emerald Witch was cleverer than she originally let on. She had been Khlarion's fateful companion for decades, meaning she had known Jessica's father for just as much time. The bird understood the relationship the Nelson brothers had, and deeply respected Erik for his work. Regardless, she still hated him because his work was in direct opposition to theirs. Now that he was gone, her master could finally wreak chaos upon the world like she was created to do.

Eventually, the bird would emerge from a staircase leading to the ceiling from a window leading outside. How she ended up outside was unclear. Miss Tiquel leapt from the corner where the axis bent and prepared to slash two bladed wings across the young woman's face. But unfortunately, she was not faster than the laser, and it punched straight through her. All the way through.

Khlarion's eyes bulged as he saw his familiar so brutally maimed by the powerful attack, "Oh damn."

The bird lady collapsed to the ground, losing all aerial momentum. She looked down to see a hole going all the way through her torso. Jessica was horrified at the idea she'd accidentally murdered her uncle's familiar. Her concentration shattered as the laser dissipated.

Khlarion had told her, as his anchor, if Tiquel died, he'd be cast from his dimension. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" she said in a panic. Jessica ran to the bird woman as she started constructing what looked to be a large Band-Aid.

Tiquel only tilted her head in curiosity like any bird would, as the hole in her body repaired and refilled itself. She seemed unfazed by the impalement.

"She's a shapeshifter, Jess! Also, she's magic. It's not like you can actually kill her like that," Khlarion called down from above, followed by a sinister sounding chuckle. He found her shock and awe entertaining. "Good job, though! Just fantastic!" He then applauded.

Jessica reached her hand down and helped Miss Tiquel back up on her own two feet. The bird woman gave her a nod before transforming back into her simple, raven form, and flying back up to her master's chair. "Hey, would you mind changing the tower back to normal? I don't know where you put the kitchen."

Khlarion looked around at the chaotic mess that was the tower's current floorplan, "But this looks so cool!" he pleaded back like the petulant child he appeared as.

Jessica stared up at her uncle on his platform and fired out a large green hand from her ring and grabbed the platform. She then slammed the slab of stone straight down to her level, shaking Khlarion quite a bit. "Now, Uncle Charles. Please." She was not amused whatsoever.

"Ugh, fine. That's all you had to say, kid. Words can be magic too, y'know," Khlarion said sarcastically. Once the boy regained his bearings, he snapped his fingers and the setting of the tower returned to how it was before with a large shock wave of black magic. While his abilities were not usually so unlimited to where he could warp space to the extent it was, the mystical architecture of the Tower of Fate gave him a boost in potential.

Jessica looked around as everything in her home returned to how it should be. She looked at Khlarion with concern. How could she be sure that he is who he says he is? He wears her late-uncle's face, but is he really her uncle? What if she made a massive mistake by working with him? She could very well have made a deal with the devil and doomed the world; because she didn't want to grieve her father alone and be strong enough to succeed him.

"You know, for somebody who's powers come from their force of will, you got a lot of fear on your mind, Jessie," Khlarion commented, resting his chin on his fist which was on the armrest of his chair.

His comment startled her, "Gah! What do you-" Jessica asked, after a jump.

Khlarion tapped the side of his head with his other hand, "Telepath, kiddo," he answered with a smirk, "I get it. You have every reason not to trust me. I came out of a portal to Hell, completely admitted to being your dad's nematode," he continued before being squawked at by his bird. "Nemesis, right."

Jessica conjured a hand from her ring and stretched it out to grab the inert Helm of Iscariot. She then jerked the arm back to bring the helm back to her, and she placed it over her head. While it didn't have any magical properties anymore, the metals used to forge it negated Khlarion's telepathy. The idea behind its creation was that no one could inhabit the mind of Nabu's host but himself. "Stay out of my head, Uncle Charles," she ordered meekly from within the helmet, a metallic ring accompanying her voice.

Khlarion chuckled, "Sorry, can't help it. Your thoughts are really loud." He rubbed his temples afterward, "Not bad today, though."

Jessica mused as she folded pieces of the helm back. It had different retractable layers used to control what parts of the face could be seen. She was uncomfortable being fully obscured by the helm, even if its power was inert. The created opening resembled a heart shape around her face. "Thanks, I'm honestly just glad I didn't accidentally kill your bird. Do you think I'm finally ready to get back into action? I promised the League to put me back in rotation soon."

Khlarion chuckled sinisterly and shook his head. "Yeah, I wouldn't guarantee it, you still got a long way to go." He looked at Jessica's ring in posh disgust, "I'm not a fan of the ring-slingers as a group, but their weapons are my whole deal. Limitless possibilities confined only to your imagination, and you create a straight a line?"

Jessica shrugged, "I don't know, I just went with seemed practical. I don't want to drain my battery with anything too elaborate." She seemed a little hurt at her uncle's disappointment. She was really trying to do what seemed right for the situation.

"Practical, she says, get a load of that," Khlarion said sarcastically to his bird. "You're a mystic, kid. Even the ones I'm contractually obligated to fight against have a little flair! Be honest, why are you holding back?"

Jessica stood in silence as she pondered the question. She knew what she had the potential to create with her ring. Those constructs struck terror in anyone who saw them unprepared, even those she used them to save. "I don't want to scare people. That's not how we're supposed to function."

Khlarion rolled his eyes, "You call yourself the Emerald Witch, that's not a name that inspires the most continence," he said before his bird squawked to correct him again, "Sorry, confidence. Wait, what did I say?" The boy heard another response from Miss Tiquel, "Wait, that's what that word means? Okay, my word still works," he concluded with a smirk.

Jessica felt awkward just standing there, only listening to half of a tangent conversation, "Anyway, I became a hero because I didn't want people to feel as powerless and scared of the world around them as I did on my worst day. Back when I was terrified to leave my home for anything, it gave me strength that overcoming my fear would bring out the same strength in someone else."

Khlarion whistled in amusement, "Wow, how noble. How did that work out?" he asked rhetorically, knowing exactly how that played out.

"Not…well," Jessica answered ashamed. "That fear, it manifests in ways I don't want it to. My constructs, when I'm not holding back, become monstrous. A little girl shouldn't stare into the eyes of a horned demon while a building is collapsing on top of them. Sometimes, they'll think I'm the one causing the danger rather than protecting them." She took a deep breathe and sighed in resignment, "Despite my efforts, I can't control how the world sees, so I gave up, and let them see me as a Witch."

"And the League never supported you, never tried to help rebrand you? They just let the world see you as a freak while they used you to police the world, or "save it" as they sanctimoniously claim!" Khlarion spouted proudly.

"It's not all like that. Yeah, Stark is like that, but they're like family to me. And now, they're the only family I got left," Jessica retorted defensively. "Sergeant Garrick, Diana, and Logan knew my father back when he was a kid; they're like great aunts and uncles to me, Thunderman was there for me when Minerva turned, and in these past months, Captain Gamma came to check on me every weekend."

Khlarion cocked an eyebrow, "You don't think they came to check on you just to try and get you back on the team? They were in need one of their biggest weapons, and that's what you are to them. Just like Erik was, for both generations."

Jessica was getting annoyed with how her uncle was badmouthing her extended family. Her ring flared with green and black energy as she pointed it towards Khlarion, "I'm not a weapon to them, Charles. I won't let your words turn me against them. I get causing chaos is your job, but I won't let you manipulate me into forsaking them."

Khlarion raised his hands into the air and snickered, "Okay, okay! You caught me. I was just testing you to see how loyal you were to these guys. I can't help but stir the pot and call the kettle black," he joked nonsensically, unaware his butchered idiom meant nothing. "Don't get your tights all bundled up, I won't bring it up again unless you do, fine?"

Jessica calmed down and cooled her ring, "Fine." Silence hit the room for a few moments, "Wait, what did you mean by both generations?"

Given that Jessica mentioned it, and not him, Khlarion was elated to oblige her question. "You realize me and Erik were kids when all that went down, right? He hadn't even hit puberty yet, and I haven't for 80 years," he said bitterly.

"I am aware," Jessica answered with a sigh, "But, the Helm of Nabu turned his body into an adult's while he was using it. It's not like they were using him as a child soldier. He was one of the MSA's strongest members," she justified.

"Jessie, it wasn't just some kerscuffle between two sports ball teams, this was a damn war. And they sent a kid who'd lost both his parents and me to the biggest blight on humanity's history to fight alongside them. Spin it however you want, but you can't roll a square wheel. And right after the war, they abandoned him," Khlarion asserted.

"What? That can't be," Jessica denied, "Why would they just leave him alone?"

"Because that's what heroes do, kid. You're only family when you have something to fight over," Khlarion answered. "It's been really peaceful since Erik saved the universe from that big blue guy. And since then, only one of them has come to check on their martyr's precious daughter. That was, until things started getting bad again," he continued as he gestured to her ring, "And they needed their weapon again."

Jessica started to believe what he was saying, but her initial doubts resurfaced. All of the circumstances which led him into her life were completely insane. Nothing he did really made sense, and he prided himself on it. She remembered an adage the Blind Bat had told her once; that many accusations are actually confessions. "And how do I know you're not just doing the same to me?"

Khlarion chuckled, "Because I'm your uncle, and uncles and notrociously trustworthy!"

"How do I know that you're even my father's brother?! He's never mentioned you turning into this. You've openly claimed to be working against my father for decades. And everything you've done has been to keep me away from the League so they can't try and oppose you!" Jessica listed off, feeling like a complete fool for assumedly falling for an idiotic ruse because of her grief. "You have a passing resemblance to an eighty-year-old photo I saw in an album a month ago, and that's it! How could I be so blind?!" She raised her ring towards Khlarion to fire a blast of energy, but it sputtered and crackled out impotently. Jessica's resolve instantly shattered.

Khlarion held up a clenched fist, "Well kid, you were blind enough to let me infect your ring with my power. So that's on you," he said pointing at her with his other hand. His wheelchair then began to levitate into the air, surrounded by a black and red aura. The demon child's skin turned pale blue and his smile crept across his face with inhuman proportions. He then let out a sinister cackle as his voice distorted to something monstrous.

"Now, this is the part where I'd use my powers to flay your skin off your body, incinerate your flesh, and send your conscious mind through what would be an eternity of endless mental torment as you relive every single piece of trauma on loop in gruesome detail!" He described graphically as he guffawed with dark glee. Blood began to ooze from the walls of the Tower as a ring of green fire rose up around them.

Jessica's rejection of Khlarion's premise awakened the darkest parts within him, preparing him to unleash everything he had upon the insolent woman. She shuddered in abject horror at the concept of everything he just said. She felt absolutely helpless for what was about to happen next. It was a feeling she was all too familiar with. "No, wait please! I'm sorry. Please don't, I'll do whatever you sa-," she begged and pleaded for mercy until she was cut off.

Miss Tiquel cawed at Khlarion, causing the boy to simmer down, "I mean, I would if I wasn't completely truthful in everything I just said. And a good uncle would never do that to his darling niece," he responded in his normal voice as all the hell he brought loose receded back into nothingness. Everything returned to as it should have been as if it never happened. Nary a single drop or cinder left behind.

"I-um-huh? What? What?" She stammered as Jessica shook in fear of what she witnessed. Her brain was in panic mode and was only slowly coming back to reality.

"I was just joking, kiddo. I mean you no harm whatsoever. I just want to get the family back together, honestly. I guess I got a little carried away with the theatrics. My bath," he awkwardly apologized as he looked at the quivering witch who was now huddled up on the floor.

"A little?!" Jessica cried out, "What the hell was that?!" she asked followed by putting her head in her hands.

"That is a fraction of what my power can do," Khlarion answered, cracking his knuckles. "But I'm guessing if we're going to continue our fun, I owe you some proof. It's the least I can do after that."

Jessica looked back up at the boy, "You have proof? What is it?"

Khlarion lifted his finger and twirled it in a circle. The motions spawned an inky black portal swirling on the floor, "We're just going to see an old friend who can corroborate my story. Get in."

Jessica stared down at the portal with dinnerplate eyes, "You really expect me to jump through that thing?"

"I mean, kind of," he answered with a shrug.

"This isn't going to trap me in another dimension for five hundred years, is it," Jessica asked hesitantly. She shook her fist a little bit as her ring flickered back to life. It'd seemed Khlarion had ceased his control over his supplements within it.

"Five hundred? Yes. Years? No," Khlarion answered before snapping his fingers. A large hand emerged from a portal behind Jessica, shoving her down the chasm. Jessica screamed loudly as she plummeted through the abyss. "Just sit tight, I'll meet you there!" he called down before he gestured his fingers in a cutting motion. Just like that, both the hand and the portal disappeared.

Khlarion snapped his fingers again and summoned a small, wooden clock to float beside him. "Okay, I got eight minutes and fifteen second-fourteen se-thirtee-twe-screw it!" He put his fingers to his temples and sent out a telepathic signal. He called out to Loxxi Luthorson. Surprising no-one, Khlarion was Loxxi Luthorson's mysterious mystical benefactor.

"Talk to me number one, do you have the purple man?" he thought towards the villain. His mental voice was deep and rich with a silky English accent. It was befitting of someone who was the actual age Khlarion would have been had be not died. He was hiding his true form to Loxxi, likely so he'd be taken seriously by him.

"Not exactly, Mister X. The Purple Joker's dead," Loxxi thought back. He was currently sitting in the captain's quarters of the S.S. Doom which he had commandeered from Sonic Manta. He was staring out at the portholes with contempt for the current situation.

Khlarion was greatly annoyed by this development. He had great plans for Jack Kilgrave going beyond. He claimed himself an agent of chaos, and the boy was as excited to use him tactically like a child would the hot new toy on the shelf. His frustration manifested in an extremely loud internal scream.

Given Khlarion was screaming in his mind, and Loxxi was connected to his mind right now, he heard all of it. It sent Luthorson flying from his chair into the window in front of him. His head was reeling from both the faceplant, and the mental sound. "I know you're upset, but we have a backup plan. Nygma undermined my commands, but he wasn't so foolhardy not to replace Joker with someone else. Lawrence Zoltan Crane, known here as Mr. Scary. He says he can replicate Kilgrave's pheromones."

Eventually, once the boy had calmed down, he responded. "How much of a setback are we facing here, number one?"

"Without Joker's instant sedation, we'll be set back about two weeks. We'll also require some extra help with raiding the Iron Vault. Using him to surpass the guards was a big part of that plan," he explained as he sat back in his chair. "How is the battery coming along," Loxxi asked in turn, not aware that the battery in question was the Emerald Witch herself.

"It's getting there. There's been certain roadblocks which are blocking the rise in potential magic. But give me enough time, and we should remain on schedule," Khlarion answered. "Do you have a plan to get into the Vault without the Purple Joker?"

"I know the perfect people to handle a heist like this," Loxxi said conjuring what looked like a rolodex, and setting it on his desk. He flipped through the old-fashioned trinket until he found the proper information for one Leonard Buchanan Barnes.

"Good, while I have you, I do have some questions as far as who you've been bringing onto the team," Khlarion interjected. "You needed the cat for her speed, the fish for the ship, the doll kid for the design specs, the lawyer for the connections, the fascist for space travel, and the horse guy for muscle. Why'd you want me to help break out the stretchy girl? You already have my shapeshifter at your disposal, and Bezarro is way stronger than her. Isn't she kind of redundant?"

Loxxi mentally chuckled, "Oh Mister X, this is why you pursued me to start this whole thing. You may be psychic, but I'm the one with the vision to see where this is all going," he said proudly. "You create the world we both desire, the people in it have to believe that our Legion has what it takes to be its saviors, its heroes. Many of us can try to be good, to play it for the cameras, but she still believes that she can be. That illusion of hope for herself gives us legitimacy."

"Do you think that illusion will keep her loyal to you?" Khlarion asked, a bit miffed by Loxxi's condescension despite the façade he was putting on his mental broadcast.

"She's adjusting. Sinestro is keeping a tight hold on her, draining her of her capacity for fear. Once we send her out in the field, I think her loyalty will be fully cemented," Loxxi said tactically.

"I'll leave that to your discretion, but do not fail me again with your next mission. Understood?" Khlarion asked trying to sound threatening to Loxxi and assert dominance.

"Understood, Mister X," Loxxi responded with a smirk in his mental voice. It wasn't working. And just like that, the transmission between the two was over.

Khlarion checked his floating clock. Six minutes and forty-five seconds had passed since he had last checked. He didn't have much time. "Gee, I've been letting her fall in the void for a while. I gotta get over there!" He then twirled his finger again, this time creating a portal above him. With a pump down of his arm, the portal rushed down over him and his bird, sending the Witch Boy to someone he hadn't seen in a long time.

Chapter 20: The Web of Xanadu

Khlarion had thrust himself through his hellish portal from the Tower of Fate to the middle of a quaint little town on the outskirts of Poland. His portals, at their current strength, could only transport him to places he had already been. He basked in his surroundings, feeling nostalgic as he brought himself to his hometown, the home he had shared with his dear brother.

Time felt like it stood still as soon as he arrived. Although, that was because as soon as he did come through, he used his telepathy to freeze all the minds in the surrounding area. The crowds of people bustling through the streets rendered lifeless mannequins by his power. Nobody was to the wise of his presence, and it was probably better that way.

It seemed wise not to arouse much panic from the masses if a demonic boy in a wheelchair emerged from the void. As fun as that would be to spread more chaos like the cheeky little shit the universe perceived him as, these were once his people. The Charles Xavier Nelson within him urged him to not do anything to harm them.

The boy turned his attention to his desired location. He looked across the street to see a rather ornate parlor standing out amongst a mundane strip of other businesses. The building was painted an elegant orchid purple with deep maroon curtains draped down over the windows. The most distinguishing feature though were the bundle of webs which decorated the outside. Despite the parlor being fully operational, the exterior looked like a spider's nest. The wooden sign plastered above the door read "The Web of Xanadu".

He wheeled up to the door, pushed it open, and crossed through a doorway into nightmare. A bell chimed as the door fell closed behind him. The interior was dark and eerie. Shelves of mystical artifacts and ancient tomes lined the walls, the room was bathed in a bloody crimson light, and as expected, everything was covered in cobwebs. Khlarion looked around in amusement, this was his kind of place.

At its center sat an old woman at a satin clothed table. She was in her late eighties, but she still carried a timeless elegance to her. She was of darker complexion, likely Romani, and she was generously adorned with golden bracelets, pearl earrings, and various jewels. She wore a long, silk, mulberry dress which draped the floor; it almost looked black with the shadows cast around her. The emblem of a white spider was placed in the center of her garb, its legs bleeding from it and wrapping around her body. But the most distinguishing feature was a red and white blindfold wrapped around her face and tucked beneath ivory hair.

Despite her blindness, the woman's demeanor shifted once she sensed the boy's presence. Her mystic powers let her see things beyond what her eyes ever could have. And she was all too aware of the dark power which lay within the boy. "So, you finally come back to me Witch Boy. I was wondering when you'd finally be drawn here. What gives you the gall to enter my domain?" she asked in a sassy rasp. She was pleased to have Khlarion in her presence.

Khlarion chuckled, "Relax Cassie, I'm not here on business. Just on a little family vacation," he explained as he began to wheel towards the fortune teller.

"I'm sorry to hear about the Fatal Compass. I am sure his spirit rests peacefully now. He deserves it after all he's done," the old woman said sympathetically.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm not here to talk about him. You probably already know why I'm here, don't you?" Khlarion brushed off her sympathies to get to the point.

"Yes, I do," she answered dryly, "I know exactly where all of this is going. I just want to know if you're ready to face the consequences of what you're planning."

"Just answer me this, does it work?" Khlarion answered her question with another question.

"You know I can't tell you that. I'd hate to spoil how it all ends," the teller answered cryptically with a sly smirk. "Anyway, it's been five-hundred seconds. Time to let her arrive," she added as the magic clock Khlarion had conjured up reappeared to chime an alarm at him, confirming the teller's claim.

"Hold on a sec," he then spun his finger around in a circle to summon the exit portal on the ceiling of the parlor.

Quiet screaming became louder and louder before a bright green beam shot from the hole. It made contact with the floor and, it created a construct of a large bean bag chair. Jessica then came crashing down from the ceiling, landing into the bean bag construct she made for herself to break her fall. "I have been falling…for ten minutes," she proclaimed through labored breaths.

"Actually, it was eight minutes and twenty seconds, exactly. I'm a lot of things, Jessie, but a liar I am not," Khlarion proclaimed, "Most of the time."

Jessica took in her surroundings. This was the first time she had left her home since her father's death. That loss made her relapse into her agoraphobia. She didn't think she was strong enough to go out into the world without her father's support. She was prepared to turn back into a terrified, crumbling mess again.

But that was before. She had the help of someone else who was there for her now. She had the magical power at her fingertips which gave her the will to overcome her fear. While his trustworthiness was dubious at best right now, he was still providing her with the strength she believed she needed to handle being back in the world again. How long that dark magic would be enough was a different question.

She took a few deep breaths, and accepted her current reality for what it was, "Okay, okay. So where are we?"

"We're in her fortune telling parlor called the "Web of Xanadu." Her name is Cassandra Inwudu, but people around here call her "The Madame." and she's got psychic powers out the kazoo! She'd be able to use those to prove to you that I'm not lying."

Jessica sheepishly waved hello to the Madame. She remembered her father mentioning her name once or twice before. This was one of the people the Fatal Compass had come to for advice. That fact then made her realize something, "Okay, why is she not attacking us? I thought most magic users hated you."

"That's true. Given the nature of the job, I'm on the hitlists of the Green Mystics Coven, the Spirit of Vengeance, and especially Jason Bloodstone," Khlarion explained, "But all of that's just politics. It's their job to search out people like me, round us up, and exterminate us." His description made him pause for a moment, making a dark connection in his mind.

"As I was saying, Fortune Tellers aren't bound by all that. They're a neutral party in the grand scheme of things. She wouldn't be attacking me, even if I was lying to you, which I'm not." Khlarion's expression grew tense as he thought over what he had said just prior.

Cassandra nodded in confirmation, "Yes, that is correct. Those like me look more into what can be, than what should be, but we interfere in similar ways that agents of Order like your father did. We manage continuity of events so that no matter what happens in between, the most important events in reality can still occur. Welcome to the web, Scarlet Witch."

"Right, thanks. Anyway, could you tell me about Khl-wait, Scarlet? What are you talking about? I'm wearing green." Jessica asked, then being thrown off track by her statement.

"She's blind, she can't see colors, I guess." Khlarion answered glibly with a shrug.

"Right, sorry. We'll get to that later. The web tells me things out of order sometimes," Cassandra explained with a wry chuckle.

"I'm gonna let you two girls chat, I'm gonna peruse the philately of cool magic stuff in the back." Khlarion then rolled off to the back of the store to look at the Madame collection of artifacts.

Jessica eyed her surroundings, finally seeing all the webs surrounding them. The lighting made them look hellish red. She hesitantly approached a collection of strands hanging from the wall. "The web? Is this where your powers come from?"

"Oh good, you catch on quick," she answered in a subtly catty tone. "I draw my power from the Web of Xanadu. They are a collection of threads which weave the fabric of our universe together. I can see all what was, is, and what could be. I weave the connections to link events in time together to ensure the possibilities can happen. Consider me a watcher, except I actually act when things need correcting."

[After her explanation, a being beyond their plane, the Phantom Watcher, felt personally attacked in that moment. But due to divine punishment, I am unable to retort against the one responsible for altering the past continuity, forcing you, dear viewer, to go back and see that previous details were changed to better coincide with current events. I believe the proper term is "Don't shoot the messenger but hang the writer."]

The Madame chuckled to herself, aware of something the others were not. "I also control spiders. They worship me, it's a neat little side effect of everything else. Here, have some tea while we talk." She made a series of gestures with her fingers as strands of the surrounding cobweb latched to her hands. About a minute later, a swarm of a thousand spiders descended from the ceiling, belaying down a teapot, two cups, among other tea accessories.

Jessica looked up at the Madame's spiders in astoundment. A friend of the League could control ants, but this seemed more impressive somehow. She took a sip of her tea, which was also somehow poured by the spiders. "My father told my sister and I of the spider god Anansi, the African God of Stories. I'm guessing you're his avatar as my father was to Nabu?"

"I am beholden to no god, child," she denied shortly towards the allegation. "I only represent the foundation of connections which weaved this world and the spinning of the future."

Jessica was taken aback by her snapping, "So, if you aren't connected to my father that way, how do you know each other?"

Cassandra smiled at the question as she took a sip of her tea, "You would find it hard to believe, but the Nelson boys and I were friends as children. I was one of the first to learn of your uncle's telepathic abilities. My family taught Charles how to hone his gifts and the related tricks of our trade."

The young woman's eyes widened with curiosity. "Really? He mentioned you in passing before, but never anything like that." Despite her reverence of her father, Jessica truly barely knew the man under the helmet. And it wasn't as if Khlarion's stories were ever particularly coherent. She finally found another person who knew her enigma of a father's past, "What were they like back then?" Jessica asked with great intrigue and hope for answers.

"Your father was quiet, but charismatic. He commanded an almost magnetic presence without ever saying a word," the Madame responded with a chuckle. "He always seemed a bit closed off. That is, unless his brother was around. Charles was a bit of a shyster, but he was kind. When I knew the two, they were close as close could be. They were always there for each other, 'till the end."

Jessica looked toward the back to eye Khlarion, then back at the Madame, "I have to know Madame Inwudu, is Khlarion really Charles?" she asked with deep unease. "Everything about him tells me that I've made a terrible mistake by trusting him. He's admitted to being my father's greatest enemy, an Agent of Chaos. Who's to say that someone like that wouldn't stoop so low to steal his brother's face?"

The Madame cocked an eyebrow at her question, "Erik never said anything about him, did he? Ugh…that man never had his head screwed on right even without the helmet on," she said in a combination of disappointment and annoyance to her fallen friend. She assumed he never explained the whole situation because he knew that she would tell them instead down the line. He never really was good at communicating.

"No, he never really spent a lot of time with Minerva and I," Jessica answered. "We didn't even meet him without the helmet on until we were in our teens. Mom basically raised us on her own. He was always so busy with his duties as a sorcerer. He was so busy trying to make a better world, he forgot to be a part of it." There was resentment in her tone, but mostly sadness.

The Madame sighed at the mention of Jessica's mother, "Inza, she was a good one; patient as the stars, she was. Erik didn't deserve someone like her, but by God, did he need people to ground him."

Jessica was starting to get a little frustrated, "Can we stop talking about my father, please? I don't want him on my mind right now."

"Says the girl wearing his helmet," the Madame responded, tapping the ankh of fate encrusted onto the center of the helm. "Do you wish to be like your father? To be his successor?"

"What? I don't know…Maybe I do," she admitted quietly, "That's not why I wear this though. But I wear this to keep Khlarion from reading my mind. It's purely utilitarian."

"Why do you really think the Witch Boy insists on spending time with you? I sense his power flowing within you. What do you think led you to accept it?" the Madame asked analytically as she seemed to stare into Jessica's soul through her shrouded gaze.

Jessica looked down at the ground, mournful, "He came into my life when I was at my lowest," she answered. "I've lost so many people in my life that I've cared about. My dad, Minerva, my mom, my…I just couldn't stand being alone. Every time I try and stand back up, the world beats me down again with more death. And when I lost the last member of my family, alongside the one who was training me to control the ring's power, I was too scared to keep going. I couldn't, so I gave up, and the ring basically gave up on me too. I couldn't even rely on my lantern to recharge it. The oath to activate it, it's just gone from my head."

"Oh, I've seen that before," the Madame commented. "It's a security thing the Coven implemented to keep people of diminished will, such as people under mind control, from using the ring's power. Once compromised, the ring's magic deletes the memory of the oath from the user's head. Then it's a matter of either a.) burning through the reserves to render them harmless or b.) waiting until the user regains their faculties," she continued to explain as she gave a shrug. "It's certainly annoying for some cases like yours, but I see the need. But it seems Khlarion gave you an option c."

Jessica was quiet as she processed the words that came out of the Madame's mouth, "Wow, so I was so depressed, that my magic jewelry mindwiped its recharge password from my brain." The situation was absurd when she said it out loud. She couldn't help but acknowledge how screwed up her life was to lead her to that situation. Jessica started chuckling, only to start busting out laughing in spite of herself. Her cracking was cathartic, helping her accept her current reality for what it was. It also made her feel a little better about "forgetting her password", as it at least wasn't entirely her fault. "Anyway, where were we?"

The Madame chuckled in turn, "Now who's forgetting the point of the conversation? We were talking about Khlarion."

Jessica finally relaxed a little after that comment. She was more at ease talking to the Madame. There was some solace in speaking to someone who seemed to carry so much wisdom but treated everything so lightly. The nature of the universe felt personal while talking with her. And over the course of the hour, she'd been letting her heart out to this woman because she knew, at least to an extent, she could be trusted. She was like an aunt she'd been missing out on for years.

"Right. When he showed up, he didn't know my father was dead. He was grieving like I was. He wanted us to grieve together. In exchange, he gave me the power to protect myself and others again. I wouldn't have to live in fear anymore," Jessica explained as she looked down at her ring, seeing the black light crackle from off of it. "With enough power, I could better control myself so that others wouldn't fear me anymore either."

"So, if the pretenses for his arrival were good, why are you afraid of the choices you've made now?" the Madame inquired. "What has happened to make you not only distrust him, but your own judgement?"

"Everything he does makes me question myself," Jessica answered, "He takes every opportunity to remind me how dangerous he is, how powerful he is. Khlarion's training is making me stronger, but at the same time, I feel just as confused and powerless as I was before. I know it's in his nature to be chaotic, and I've accepted that. But I'm afraid that regardless of whether he really is Uncle Charles resurrected, I'm doomed either way." She let out a heavy sigh as she accepted the gravity of the situation.

"If you're so afraid of him, why don't you go to your friends with the League? Your father knew when he could not handle something alone," the Madame asked, already knowing the answer. For someone omniscient, every question was a rhetorical one.

Jesscia thought back to when she was a young girl; before she got her ring, before her mother died, but when everything in her life truly changed. "I don't want to be the reason the people I care about charge into their own deaths. I can't be the last one standing, not again." Jessica answered as her eyes seemed to glaze over as horrid memories rocked her psyche again.

"So, you let yourself shoulder all the burden of potentially having a literal devil on your shoulder. You seem okay with dealing with the consequences, so why bother with learning the truth to begin with? What could knowing whether Khlarion is really Charles Nelson or not do to help?" the Madame asked dismissively.

"At least if I knew the truth, maybe I could try and get some leverage, manipulate and stall him. If I can use his power long enough, maybe I can control him instead of letting him control me. I just have to wait him out." Her mind seemed to slow down as she tried to justify her actions. She was willing to jeopardize her own safety just for a shot of being a hero again. "If I fail, then I try to take him down with me. Better me than everyone else."

The Madame continued to sip her tea as the young woman explained her plight. "Well, it's a noble gambit, if not a tad foolhardy. You're like Erik in that respect," the Madame commented. "I think I can help you with your dilemma, at least to try and give you some peace of mind. That is why he brought you here, is it not?"

"How are you going to do that? Are you going to probe his mind to make him tell the truth?" Jessica asked hopefully.

"Oh, no. I'm not that kind of psychic, dear," the Madame apologized, "But, I have other methods of seeing into others."

The Madame then proceeded to give Jessica an explanation of how her fortune telling powers worked. She told her that through a ritual, she could examine a person's soul, and that every person's soul had two fragments. Then, by looking at what fragments similar to those did in other universes, she could discern what would likely happen in their future. This way, the Madame could give a potential augury for what Khlarion was planning on doing. Now, Madame Cassandra Inwudu was aware of the multiverse. Mystic powers on the level of hers gave her access to dimensions beyond her own. And with that access gave her knowledge of the truth. Through her discoveries, the Madame would learn of the nature through which their universe was created.

She knew that the being for which she currently existed was only six months old, just as everyone else in this universe was. But she knew that if that knowledge were to ever come out, it would send all of this reality's denizens into mass hysteria, leading to its collapse. So, she kept that little nugget of truth to herself. The explanation she gave to Jessica was enough so that she understood what they were going to find within Khlarion's soul, but not enough to send her into an existential crisis about her birth. That would not provide useful to the continuous weaving of the web.

Jessica sat in stunned silence for a second. Even if she wasn't given the mind-shattering truth, getting enough to understand the situation on a base level was still a lot to let sink in. "So, the Multiverse is real, like, unequivocally real?" she asked for confirmation.

The Madame gave a casual nod in response. "Give yourself some time to adjust. It's a big change in how you look at things. The less you think about the ramifications, the better though."

"Sure, I guess, but then why even tell me in the first place? Wouldn't telling me any of this mess with a lot of other things?" Jessica asked, grappling with everything she just learned.

The Madame shrugged, "I do what I must to maintain the continuous weaving of the web. Letting you in on the nature of the demon child is just going to make some things easier going forward."

"So, why not just tell me? Don't you already know the truth. And if not, why haven't you already scanned the parts of Khlarion's soul before? This seems like something you would've done a long time ago," Jessica questioned, poking holes in the logic of everything the Madame was doing.

The Madame was starting to grow weary of the Emerald Witch's prying. She empathized with Jessica's fears and anxiety about everything, but it was starting to boil to a point of annoyance. The Madame couldn't look into Khlarion's soul until now because she didn't exist to do so until six months ago. But she couldn't tell Jessica that, or else she'd expose the Amalgam. She had to make something up to maintain continuity. It was like explaining to a child where babies come from, but not wanting to explain sex. She just wanted to get this over with.

"It was never relevant for me to investigate it until now. My visions never declared him as a serious threat to my work, so I trusted he was what he said he was," the Madame formulated a passable excuse. "I'm helping you now because the web wants you to know. Does that explanation satisfy you," she asked exasperated.

Jessica shrugged, "Not really, but I'll accept that it's the best I'm gonna get with how much I actually understand about all of this."

"Thank you," the Madame said with a sigh of relief. "I'll bring the boy over and we can get a move on with this." With a snap of her fingers, the swarm of spiders carried Khlarion's wheelchair from the back of the parlor to the main table. While he was being carried, the boy was shouting various butchered expletives in protest at being dragged away by the arachnid armada.

The spiders then positioned Khlarion's wheelchair right next to Jessica's chair in front of the Madame's crystal ball. "Oh, right. This is what we came here for. You ready to finally start trusting me, Jessie?"

"I'm ready to finally understand what you are," Jessica answered sternly.

"Jessie, up until now, I have been nothi-, I've been truthful to you. When will you accept that I really do want to help you out?" Khlarion asked innocently.

"Just do your thing, Madame," Jessica requested, not acknowledging the boy's plea.

"Indeed. Khlarion X, let us see what silks you were weaved from. Let us see who you really are," The Madame nodded and removed her blindfold. Her eyes glowed a divine white as she stared into Khlarion's. She took his hands as the cobwebs which draped the interior of the parlor descended from the ceiling and linked themselves to both the Madame and the Witch Boy. The surrounding webs pulsed with blood red energy as they shifted and reshaped to present the shape of Khlarion's soul.

Shadows danced around the room as the manifestations of one side of Khlarion's being. The webs warped and twisted to showcase facsimiles of the stories which weaved Klarion Bleak, the Witch Boy. Some shapes were vague and unclear, versions of the boy which were greatly unlike the boy which sat before her. But there were ones that were far more defined.

These were the realities which resembled the Klarion of Earth-203225 most. They showcased a child from another realm, a world between worlds, a Limbo. The boy was rebellious to the world around him. He was a trickster and a nuisance to his home world. He was ambitious to become something grander, to learn witchcraft. But the world from whence he came held the boy back, enforcing their order upon him to keep him under their supervision.

Khlarion stared up at the shapes of the webs displaying his counterpart's origin, "Okay, this stuff is new," he commented, not recognizing this part as apart of his own origin.

But primordial forces of the universe, the Lords of Chaos, saw potential in the boy. They gave Klarion the chance to reach the apex of his potential with magic. In return, he would become their Avatar. Klarion would be accompanied by a familiar, what was a witch without a cat? He would spread chaos and disorder across the universe in their name, and the boy would relish every minute of it. For centuries, the child of Limbo would make mystical mischief, malice, and malfeasance across the lands.

"There we are! This part is definitely me," Khlarion said with relief as he laughed at the visual retellings. He then looked at his raven, Miss Tiquel, "But why are you not a cat?" His bird responded with a squawk, "Look, it's not like I care that you're a bird, but it's weird that you're not a cat, okay?"

The webs then started presenting other events experienced by those who shared that soul. Most displayed Klarion fighting a demon from hell, but there were some strange ones shown as well. There was one displaying him turning a bunch of heroes into children, one where he fights an army of robots, and then there was a weird one where his spirit inhabited a school bus. As all of these were showing, Khlarion was taking notes, likely for future schemes.

"Okay, so we all saw that part coming. I've been very upfront about what I am in this sense," Khlarion boasted to Jessica.

"Would you like a medal for that?" Jessica asked sarcastically.

"I mean, kind of," the boy responded candidly.

Jessica rolled her eyes, the Madame would too if her glowing orbs of light had pupils to roll. "How about we take a look at the other part of you, and then I'll decide what to do with you."

Khlarion gave a little huff in frustration. He felt like he was doing an awful lot to earn Jessica's trust. This whole field trip was a show of good faith. But despite everything, she was still scared to trust him. He heard the fear inside her head, but he didn't get a close enough look in her mind to understand that fear. But he realized he was in a very convenient position to learn things about other people. He quickly formulated a plan and made his move.

The boy twirled his fingers to create a large portal on the ceiling behind Jessica and himself. A large demonic bear fell from the hole, smelling of sage and rage. It let out a blood curdling roar, sending a pang of fright and panic into Jessica.

"Oh my God, what the heck is that?!" Khlarion cried out as he performed a quick sleight of hand to move the Madame's hands onto Jessica. And with another quick gesture, the Demon Bear was gone, back from wherever it came. "Never mind, it's gone, let 'er rip Cassie!"

Before Jessica could register what just happened, and it wasn't like the Madame could tell who's hands she was touching before she got the visions, it all began to unfold. The Web of Xanadu began to spin a different tale. The Madame's visions revealed themselves as the origins of the Green Lantern and the Scarlet Witch.

Chapter 21: What Could Be

The webs twisted to change from the story of Klarion the Witch Boy to that of Jessica Cruz. To the two witches' surprise, many of the strands which existed to build the former seemed to wither and retreat back into the walls. It seemed that throughout the multiverse, there were far fewer stories about her to be told.

Jessica looked at her narratives unfolding with great unease, "There aren't a lot of mes out there. I can only imagine why," she said full of dread, "Stop these visions, Madame. I don't want to see this!"

Khlarion grew concerned as he noticed the girl's descent in terror, "Jessie, what's wrong? What is it you don't want me to see?" He asked with little self awareness. All of the fear he felt in her head, he was about to see where it all came from.

Jessica quickly removed her hands from the Madame's, but the webs were already spinning their stories. "I'm sorry, child, what has begun cannot be stopped undone. The Web must reveal itself," the old woman explained with deep remorse. She regretted being forced to show this, but this had to happen to preserve the continuity of the Web.

The webs changed from pulsing blood red to a vibrant bright green. They showed a woman who shimmered with an emerald green light, armed with a ring of power. The symbol of a lantern was plastered across the figure's chest, and again around her eye. The ring's power was ingrained as a part of her. Her powers allowed her to help people, save lives, and be the light in the darkness that those who lived in fear desperately needed. This was not the genesis of Jessica Cruz the Green Lantern, this was the hero at her peak.

"Wait, what gives? Why are we starting this at the end? This doesn't seem too bad. A little cliche, but not bad." Khlarion asked suspiciously.

"Well, if you were patient, I could have restarted the spell from the beginning like I was supposed to, but on you, but because of your trickery, we have to go in reverse for the poor girl," Cassandra Inwudu snapped towards Khlarion. "This whole charade was to show her that she could trust you! But you just can't let things take their course! You change things for the sake of change, and now you've tricked me into opening Pandora's Box!" She knew that she had to get this reading done eventually, but she knew the effects this would have on Jessica. Once again, she cursed her situation of being held hostage by the narrative.

Khlarion grit his teeth and inhaled, "Geez, that bad?"

"It's not just what happened then, you imp!" The Madame scolded, "It's what she has now!"

Throughout all of this, Jessica started to panic. She knew what was coming; the story of her worst day was to be retold. It started small as she went dead quiet. Short, rapid breaths as it seemed like she was trying to come to terms with what came next. But she couldn't do that.

She watched as time rewound through the different stories the woman bathed in emerald light would live through. There wasn't a lot of variety within the branches of her stories that existed, but the stories always portrayed her as someone who never fought her battles alone. Whether that be with other who shone the same lantern's light, fellow gods among men like the League she stood with now, or even just among other young women who wanted to be heroes. But as the stories were playing in reverse, those companions would fade away, and the light of the lantern would dim and leave her, leaving the fibrous facsimile all alone.

The constructs made to represent the reading showed a woman sitting secluded and isolated. They showed someone dominated by fear, and art reflected life. Jessica was silent, curled up in her chair, head hidden between her legs, trying to divert her eyes from the weaving narrative. But as she devolved into pure panic, her ring began to crackle and spark with energy.

As she was reminded of the time she hid herself away in the seclusion of her home, the ring began to manifest that. The ring constructed a large green bubble which grew around Jessica. It pushed her chair away from the Madame's table and Khlarion's wheelchair until she was pushed to the center of the room. Her mentally created bunker was around 15 feet in diameter.

"Don't worry Cass, I got this," Khlarion saw Jessica's reaction to all of this and held out his hand. He tried to tap into the chaos magic he implanted in her ring to shut down the construct. His hand crackled, only to fizzle out in impotence. "I don't know what's happening here. I put in a failsafe to shut her down in case she got too wild."

The Madame groaned in annoyance, "You fool, this is what I meant! By forcing her to think about what she experienced, her mind is even more compromised. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem with the Coven's rings. But your tempering has given it a renewable supply of power which is letting Jessica's subconscious willpower project its own insecurities outward!"

Khlarion was baffled at the idea of not only that, but also that his actions had consequences, "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Since when do you care about things making sense?!" The Madame retorted crossly.

"Toupee," Khlarion responded promptly.

As the two nonagenarians argued, the webs continued to regress the narrative backwards. The figure who hid alone was now frantically running backwards through a forest. All the while, Jessica's bubble dissipated, only for the ring to manifest new constructs of a similar wooded scenery. Translucent green trees filled the parlor, blocking off all avenues of escape from the Web of Xanadu. At the newly created forest's center was an incapacitated Jessica, lying on the floor, muttering incoherently. Her chair was gone, no one was sure where that went, but that didn't really matter right now.

The constructed trees pushed up from the floorboards and forcefully pushed Khlarion's wheelchair around the room like a pinball. He tried to trigger his dark magic to either portal his way out or summon more monsters to control the situation. But anything he created simply fizzled out into smoke and ash as soon as it hit Jessica's constructs.

Miss Tiquel would transform into her combat form to try and roundhouse kick at one of the trees, only to then be sent flying back into the witch boy's lap, badly burned, and reverted back to her more humble bird shape.

The boy took in the synthetic surroundings and pondered her creations. Jessica's constructs buzzed like a bug zapper with raw power. Electricity seemed to fizz to his fingers as he held his hand towards one of the trees. This was far more than what he was expecting from the girl at this point. He suspected that she inherited some of her father's inherent raw power, but combining what was already there with her ring and his own magic created a furious cocktail of mystic energy.

He questioned what all of this meant. Erik never told him much of anything about his children. He was genuinely concerned over what she had to have experienced to turn her into the wreck lying before him. "Cass, what's all this leading to?"

The Madame only sat and watched as everything built around them. "We're almost at the nexus point now, where the woman who embraced the light was first cast into darkness," she said grimly.

Just then, the Web began to form many more strands and weavings. The web before only showcased a few different versions of the same story. Crochets of the concept of Jessica Cruz began to emerge all over the spider-made tapestry. But these Jessica were not those destined for greatness. Just like the ones who survived to bright futures lacked much variety, so did all of the others. The web broadcasted the same story across hundreds of different variants across the multiverse. The reason there weren't many Jessica Cruz's who went on to become Green Lanterns is because in most timelines, Jessica was dead. The web was littered with a sea of the same corpse.

Khlarion was deeply unsettled by the imagery. But as the web showed the story backwards, Jessica's ring created the story to present itself forward. She finally stood up, but the look on her face showed she was not all there. Her eyes were wide as dinner plates, but just as blank and featureless as them too. They radiated with the same green glow that permeated the entire room.

"Jessie, I'm sorry for putting you through this," Khlarion said, dropping his usual blaise facade. He was legitimately regretful of doing things this way. Even with everything he had planned, he never wanted to hurt her this way.

In her catatonic state, she gave no response. Her arm limply raised to create more constructs. But these were of a different nature. Three teenage girls appeared beside Jessica. They seemed to have been all out on a hiking trip in the woods one night. As the group of four "traversed" the area, the constructs creating the forests subtly changed to reflect as such. They were having some flippant conversation, but nothing meaningful came from their mouths.

Jessica fell right into her role among them. One girl suggested they return back they way they came to their campsite, as it was getting late. Another agreed, but Jessica said she "wanted to take the scenic route back." She'd led them around the "woods" for a while until dark. They got lost. as she seemed to bask in the peace of "nature". This was the last moment of peace she'd feel, after all.

Eventually, Jessica's group would find a light in the darkness. They thought they'd found their own campsite until the group stumbled upon a small assortment of dead bodies slew across the forest floor. The party of hikers had stumbled upon a murder scene being cleaned up by a few mobsters. Panic and fear coursed through all of them, rousing the ire of the criminals.

Without hesitation, one of the men pulled out a gun. It was a Magnum .22 revolver. Out of everything that was created from Jessica's mind, that weapon was the most detailed construct shown, even more so than her own friends' faces. The gun fired, a blinding flash of jade light hit the room with a booming thunder of the shot. Nobody was paying attention to the web right now, but it was, at that point, showcasing the third bullet fired receding into the gun.

The first of the constructs of Jessica's old friends dropped dead, a bullet to the chest. Jessica only stood there, completely frozen in terror as the other two constructs went down to haplessly do something to aid their friend. In turn, another one of the mafiosos grabbed a shovel and whacked the second of Jessica's friends across the back of the head, another kill. Meanwhile the web showcased the shovel leaving the caved in portion of the second's head.

It was only then that Jessica had the sense to run. But given the nature of the construct, she was more so running in place as the scenery changed around her. The final construct followed beside her, only for a third shot to be heard. But Jessica kept running, she never even saw her final friend fall. After the simulated deaths, Jessica kept running, and running, and more running until her memories dictated she was alone. As they did, the woodland scenery faded away. And so, she remained alone, back to hiding in a green bubble.

Khlarion blinked slowly as he absorbed everything he just saw. Jessica's ring had just re-enacted the murder of her friends as an adolescent. This was the event that sparked all of her fear and anxiety. He was compelled to give some dumb quip relating to the situation, but he didn't. He just exhaled as he accepted the gravity of everything.

The web had since ceased its weaving, it was done showcasing what it needed to show. Before the Madame could acknowledge that or give Khlarion an answer, the bubble expanded back open again, creating the same forest, and the same friends. The story continued as it did before.

"Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait, why are we seeing this again?" Khlarion said, now a little panicked.

The Madame observed as the same story played out as before, "It appears her power ring is keeping her mind in a loop. This trauma is carried with her everyday. These events are replayed in her mind, over and over. Now her ring is creating the events, over and over."

"That's terrible! We gotta get her out of her own head!" Khlarion said impulsively as he wheeled up to the mentally auto piloted Jesssica, "Snap out of it!" He went to slap her across the face, but the constructs of her friends seemed to throw herself in front of Jessica. Contact with the constructs sent the twisted energy coursing through him, and sending him flying back against the trees, which then also shocked him, dropping the boy from his wheelchair to the floor.

The two would watch as the scene played out again and again, the gunshots sounding like a ticking clock, all the while Jessica seemed to fall farther and farther away from reality. "I made a huge mistake bringing her here. What can we do to help her?" Khlarion asked as he pulled himself into his wheelchair and rolled to the Madame's side.

"Her ring's power is feeding off of the dark magic you provided to fuel it. These constructs are made from your corruption of her power, and maintained by these memories' hold on her mind. If she can access enough of her own willpower, she'll be able to change the ring's power source and shut off the constructs herself." The Madame answered as she began doing a series of gestures with her sigils emerged from her hands to begin casting a stronger spell.

"Why can't we just remove the ring? No ring, no constructs," Khlarion suggested.

"The rings worn by the Green Mystics can only be removed by the user of the ring itself, another failsafe put in by their creators," the Madame answered flatly.

"You know, I'm really beginning to hate the Coven for all the rules they put on these things," Khlarion groaned in annoyance.

"So you've said," the Madame said sarcastically. The only way to fix this is from within Jessica's psyche. She has to reclaim her will take back control of the ring's power."

"Well, it's sure lucky that I'm a telepath who can get into her mi-Oh wait! I can't get in her mind because she's wearing Erik's stupid dinner bell!" Khlarion commented, throwing his hands into the air.

"If you can get inside, do you think you can snap her out of her trance?" the Madame asked as if she didn't already know the answer.

"I'll sure as Limbo try," Khlarion answered, in truth, unsure of himself.

"Good," the Madame responded, "I'll do my best to grant you an opening."

Just then, the Web of Xanadu began pruning itself of silk strands and dropping the fragments to the floor. They soon collected amongst themselves to build into humanoid figures. Their shapes were simple, but took on the surface finish of the webs they were made of. They took on a combination of red and blue hues, glowing white eyes, and at the center of them all were the emblem of a spider.

"Say hello to my Web Warriors, Witch Boy," the Madame introduced.

"You got goons now, Cass? Can't say I'm not impressed," Khlarion commented with a smirk.

"The Web Warriors are my own form of constructs, boy," The Madame explained. "Modeled after one of the multiverse's greatest heroes, I can summon versions of them made from my webbing to do the work I am unable to. So count yourself lucky you have eight extra hands at your disposal."

"Why would you give me four spider-men, when you could have just given me a large spider…spider instead?" Khlarion asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Madame let out a deep sigh of annoyance, "Not every problem can be solved with spiders alone," she answered before she shot her hand forward to command them to disrupt the constructs and hopefully manage to remove the Helm of Nabu from Jessica's head.

The web-born homunculi began jumping and flipping around through the simulated trees. They'd fire off tendrils of webbing from their wrists to traverse the trees without physically touching it themselves. The coils fired would disintegrate, but the warriors would disconnect themselves from that part of their being before they could be damaged by Jessica's volatile vegetation. The course of action taken by the first of four Web Warriors swung through the trees to careen straight for the constructs of the men committing murder. The idea was that taking them down would stop the girl constructs from being killed, and calm Jessica down. That first plan ended up not working. As soon as the first Web Warrior made contact with the gun toting construct, it recoiled from a nasty surge of mystic energy, and then brutally beaten and shot to death. The destroyed warrior then fell apart and degraded into abandoned webbing. The men's constructs then proceeded to continue murdering the girls.

"Holy Crab! Is he dead?!" Khlarion asked with shock.

"No, I only borrowed his form from another universe. Things like this typically happen to spider-themed superheroes." the Madame briefly explained. This was true, Spider-People typically do suffer through a lot of unfortunate events just because of the title they carry and the responsibility they bear. One Ted Parker was meant to fulfill this universe's equivalent of the spider "totem", but by calling himself "Scarab Man" instead, he just barely managed to avoid being fate's punching bag.

The second of four Web Warriors would try to go straight for Jessica herself to snag the Helm off of her. It dodged and weaved past the constructs of the teenage girls and went to grab the helmet and yank it straight off. Instead, the construct of the man holding the gun fired straight for the silk soldier. A glowing green bullet flew straight through the thing's head as it stopped and dissipated right before it hit Jessica's unguarded face, and right before the warrior could remove the helmet. In Jessica's mind, it was imperative that she survive to witness this encounter regardless of circumstance. But the dissipation of the bullet construct did leave a rush of wind from the late bullet's force, briefly pushing her back.

The third Web Warrior went for a different approach. It swung tree to tree towards the constructs of the murderers. It reasoned that by holding back the men, the Emerald Witch's ring will spend time forcing ways to make the events happen that will distract her long enough to get the helm. It shot webs from its wrists to ensnare the gunman and the shovelman with webbing to stall them. Then in the seconds it took for the men's constructs to incinerate the silk from their internal energy, the third Web Warrior did a series of backflips to approach the catatonic Jessica who was mindlessly fleeing alongside the last girl.

Since there was no longer anyone to shoot the last girl, the ring had to think of how to keep traumatizing her. So, as the third Web Warrior got in between Jessica and the third friend, the latter simply burst open anyway without the simulation of the bullet. The splatter of the woman hit the warrior again, right before snagging the helmet, and burned it apart like molten shrapnel. One could only associate that level of darkly contrived slapstick with what could only be referred to as "Spider-Luck".

Then the final man of silk stood alone in the emerald forest. The charred and unraveled fragments of its brethren lay scattered across the floor, and the Emerald Witch continued to replay the same scene over and over again. The memory had begun repeating itself yet again. The Web Warrior surveyed the resetting area. It weighed all the possible moves it could make, knew what attempts failed before it, and decided on the optimal course of action.

The shootout began as usual like clockwork. The first gunshot rang as the bullet passed through the first victim again. The Web Warrior, standing in the middle of it all, prepares to make a series of connections. The second mafioso would then grab the shovel to whack the next girl. It would then fire another web to grapple it from the construct's hands and fling it towards Jessica. Because the second woman remained unwhacked, her construct explodes, further propelling the shovel towards Jessica.

The second shot is fired towards the third girl. The web man fires a rope to link the base of the Helm to the head of the third girl. With the two heads put together, the bullet misses. The shovel flies towards Jessica, but then disappears right before it makes contact with the catatonic conjurer. The rush of air caused by the momentum then pushes the Witch back anyway. The Web Warrior then made a final thwip to grab Jessica by the coat and pull her towards itself. The third girl's head explodes from what was supposed to be a bullet, but did anyway by fate. The series of opposing forces made the Helm and Jessica move in opposite directions, causing the Helm to pop off her head. The Web Warrior looks upon Jessica as her reddish brown hair flowed out from beneath the helmet, satisfied with a prose fulfilled. But as its webs remained connected to Jessica, the power emanating from her caused the Web Warrior to disintegrate, leaving nothing but a fourth pile of charred silk.

All of that went down over the course of a little more than a minute, and Khlarion needed to wrap his head around everything happening so fast. But instead, he had to wrap his head around Jessica's as he finally had the chance. "Wish me luck, Cassie," the boy said before putting his fingers to his temples and his mind inside Jessica's.

Khlarion was surprised to see the inside of Jessica's mind. It was eerily calm as all he could see was an empty, black void, with nothing but Jessica standing at the center. Her mental self floating in silence. "Well, it's good to see you cleaned up knowing you were gonna have visitors." He joked as he looked upon himself. He looked no different than he did before, including the wheelchair. Of all things to take with you into someone else's mind.

"All of my thoughts are outside of me now. The void is all that remains, its emptiness is comforting to me," Jessica said contently, finally feeling at peace.

"Jessie, this ain't the way. You can't spend your whole life alone in your own head," Khlarion said, trying to reach out for his niece. But as he went to take her hand, her mental form disappeared, only to reappear elsewhere in the void that was her mind.

"I'm better off alone. Everyone I care about leaves me eventually. Most of the time it's my own fault. It's better to just give up," Jessica answered with an aloof sigh.

Khlarion looked around at the void. He realized what might happen if she stays like this, "Even so, you gotta pull yourself outta this. It's just one part of your thoughts manifesting itself now, but if this whole place is as empty as it looks, your constructs are gonna fill more than just Xanadu's. Trust me, it ain't gonna be pretty."

Jessica's head tilted ominously, "Trust you?" The psychic form of the witch sent a burst of green energy hurdling into Khlarion's, sending him rolling back. "How can I trust a man who's fueled by unpredictability?"

Khlarion clutched his chest where the blast hit, staring down at bluish black blood that stained his hand. "Because we're family, kiddo," he answered with what could be construed as sincerity.

"Based on what? All I've seen from the web was that you are a demon capable of mass destruction. And since you've been here, you've been nothing but a parasite on my mental state!" Jessica reached out her hand and clenched it, raising Khlarion's mental form into the air.

"You knew what I was when you shook my hand, you chose to let me into your life!" Khlarion argued back, "And if you weren't for me, you'd be helpless."

"You took advantage of my grief to toy with my mind for what, a sick game?! And worst of all, right when I was about to learn the truth, you turned her magic on me to make me relive my worst nightmare! What kind of family does that?" As she spoke, she began squeezing her hand to telekinetically choke her demonic uncle.

Khlarion struggled in her grasp momentarily, only to give a wry chuckle. He snapped his fingers, and his scrawny, little form began to grow to massive proportions. In the scale of the mind, he appeared twenty feet tall. In the confines of the mindscape, he was extremely powerful. He swung his arm down and snatched Jessica in his hand. He held her tightly as he raised her up to his eye level. He could have done this at any time, but he didn't want to go as far as to harm her.

Khlarion was about to make another dumb quip, but he looked into Jessica's eyes. He saw the fear in them. She was squirming with terror of what he was going to do next.

He tried grounding himself back in reality, he'd often get caught up in the theatrics of everything he did, losing sight of why he was even doing it. "I'm sorry for making you relive that pain.I was afraid to show you what else I'm made of, and I hurt you because of it," Khlarion said with genuine remorse.

He then set her back down and reverted back to his normal size, returning to his normal sized chair. "I get why you fear me, I'm dangerous. It's in my nature. On your current scale, I'm no different than the guy with the shovel. You're afraid of what being around me will do to your friends, and you're afraid to be the last one standing. Just like before. But I don't want to be your bad guy, I want to be a less bad uncle."

Khlarion's acknowledgement and apology seemed to slowly ground Jessica back to reality. She spoke her truth. "I want to believe you, but your power means you're a danger to the people I care about. I'm a bad omen; my choices bring nothing for pain, suffering, and fear. It was my fault they died." Jessica explained as she fell back into her daze.

"Jessie, none of that was your fault. You were a kid when that happened," Khlarion rebutted to no avail.

"People can't rely on me because I'm not strong enough. My mind is weak, and that weakness keeps me from being what my friends need. I'm always another mess someone has to care for. Good people waste time protecting me when I should be protecting others. If I was stronger, my father might still be alive!" She proclaimed as she fell to her knees. "They call me "Witch" because all I bring is disaster."

Khlarion scoffed, "I'm a witch too, and it's not about all that dark stuff. It's about surpassing what the world intended for us to be. Kid, you've done that. Even after all you faced, you surpassed your fears to try and be a hero, even if you didn't get the recognition and praise the others got, and that means something." Khlarion conceded. "Erik gave you that ring because he saw the potential in you to overcome great fear."

As he spoke, he used his psionic powers to dredge up different, more positive memories in Jessica's mind. They were deeply entrenched, but once unearthed, they revealed her time as a true superhero. She aided the League in the galactic war of Haloa, she fought and defeated Agatha the Enchantress on her own, and even in the world's darkest hour, she stood toe to toe with Ghanoseid's Black Furies. Jessica Maximoff deserved to be remembered as a true hero.

"But have I lived up to that? Until you came along, I have been hiding away. What did I have without his teachings?" Jesscia asked, unsure of herself as other memories surfaced around them in the mindscape, showcasing her six months of depression. All of them looked about the same.

"Sure, you relapsed into your old ways after he died, but that's okay. I know you're afraid of failing to live up to his legacy as well, but you only fail if you don't try." Khlarion asserted.

"How do I know this isn't another one of your tricks? What is all of this for, for you? What's your endgame?" Jessica asked, still a little apprehensive of him.

Khlarion took a deep breath, "Look, I care about my family. But if you still don't believe that, you're getting a front row seat to my soul. I hate seeing it more than anything, but you deserve the truth."

Jessica looked up to Khlarion, "Are you being honest?"

"Jessie, I haven't lied to you, yet," he responded with a grin, "Come on, get out of your own head. You deserve to live this life! Embrace the thought of what can be!" He outstretched his hand and helped Jessica back to her feet.

Jessica stood tall, looking around inside her own head. The memories conjured seemed to fade back into the background, "So, are you going to pull me back out?"

"Nah, you're gonna do it," Khlarion answered with a chuckle. "I promised that I'd help you get stronger. To do that, I can't have you dependent on my power. So you're gonna will yourself out of your own head, which should let you take control of your ring again, and hopefully expel the power I put into it," he explained, gesturing his hands around to get his point across. "In hindsight, this was not a very good lesson plan for you."

Jessica looked down at her ring, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Your ring is fueled by willpower, you can do whatever the heck you want if you believe you can." Khlarion answered with a shrug.

"Believe in myself, a little cliche, don't you think?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah, it's kinda dumb. It's why I'm not a huge fan of those guys," Khlarion agreed. "But it's what you're working with."

Jessica took a deep breath and composed herself, "Okay, here goes." She clenched her fist hard and strained herself. She kept thinking about returning her conscious mind to the material world. She thought so hard, her mental self seemed to vibrate and tremble. But nothing seemed to come of it.

Khlarion clicked his tongue, "Yeah, that isn't exactly how I'd do it."

"Okay, how would you suggest I do it? Click my heels three times and say "There's no place like not in my head?"" Jessica asked sardonically.

Khlarion put his fingers to his chin, "Actually, that might work. But you gotta believe hard enough," he emphasized, unable to contain his entertainment.

Jessica stared at him for a moment to gauge if he was joking, he wasn't. She also hated that it kind of made sense to her. She thought that she might as well fully commit to the bit. She manifested a pair of emerald slippers on her feet with a flash of her ring.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Jessica asked before she began.

"My input on the matter is irrelevant, it's your willpower that's gotta pull it off," Khlarion answered as he rolled over to her. "But, I believe in you, kiddo. Remember, ignore fear, ignore doubt, ignore what you think should happen. Just do it, good luck." The boy snapped his fingers and disappeared from Jessica's mind.

Jessica now stood literally alone with her thoughts. She was anxious at the thought of this not working, and her being stuck in her own mind. She was afraid of what might happen to her if even upon success, she couldn't control her constructs. She was terrified of both happening at once, and the constructs of her nightmares coming back into her mind, and being stuck in there with them.

"Then don't," a memory chimed in her head.

Jessica looked at a flashback of the last conversation she had with Billy Banner. It was when she was afraid of giving her worst. He was the one that motivated her to even try. She then took Khlarion's advice and ignored those negative feelings which plagued her. She understood that she could control how she reacted to the world around her, and with a few heel clicks and a rather long mantra, "There's no place like out of my head." Then the dark void of her mind turned into the less dark room of the parlor.

She blinked as the light of her constructs sheened into her eyes. The memories still haunted her, but she could at least try to compartmentalize the emotions long enough for her to stretch out her arm, and force the simulations back into her ring. Eventually, the room returned to its normal state.

Khlarion laughed heartily, "I knew you had it in you to get you out of you…wait," he paused as he wrapped his head around what he just said.

Jessica's ring crackled with energy upon reabsorbing her constructs back inside. She looked down to still see the black sparks, "Now, let's get you out of me." She pointed her ring towards Khlarion, focused hard, and fired purely the chaos magic infecting her ring back into the Witch Boy. The ring's power was her own. While she didn't have full mastery over her willpower, she could at least consistently generate some herself again.

Khlarion recoiled as he absorbed the power back into himself, "Oi, that smarted. I think that clump of magic was my Pangaea." His bird squawked at him to correct him, "Pancreas."

The Madame gazed blankly upon both of them, "Well, I'm not sure what you did in there, Witch Boy, but she seems in a better state of mind than she was before. Good job, I suppose."

Khlarion cracked his knuckles smugly, "Whelp, I do my best work in other people's brains." He took a look around to see all the discarded webbing lying around the parlor. "Thanks for helping me get in."

The Madame was holding the Helm of Iscariot in her lap, "The Adth Metal that makes up this Helm remains quite volatile despite its severed connection from the Lords. I would hate for you to be stuck in your head again without my assistance. Are you sure you still want to hold onto it?"

Jessica walked over to the table and gently picked it back up, "Yeah. It's got sentimental value," she stared at the Helm, contemplating whether to put it back on, but decided not to.

"Well, I'd say that resolves everything, let's get back to the Tower," Khlarion said as he began conjuring a portal on the floor.

Before Khlarion could wheel himself into it, Jessica created a large bathtub drain plug to block off the Witch Boy's daring escape. "Not so fast, we had a deal. You're going to show me the rest of who you are."

Khlarion had a pained expression, "Ohhhh, do we have to?"

Jessica created a large hand from her ring, grabbed the back of Khlarion's wheelchair, and turned it around to face the Madame's table. "You saw my worst, I should get to see yours. I deserve the truth, don't I?"

Khlarion let out a heavy sigh, "Well, if it isn't my own words turned against me. You know, your dad did that to me all the time." He said to his own chagrin.

"You came here so that Jessica could grasp the truth, Witch Boy. It's time to deliver on that promise," the Madame said as she held out her hands to take Khlarion's.

Khlarion surrendered himself to the Madame's touch. He let her look into the mangled abyss that was his corrupted soul. The webs worked their power a final time today as they presented the story of Charles Xavier, the man called Professor X. The surrounding outskirts of the silks were the first to present themselves. These were the stories of Charles Xavier from the adjacent universes, but still quite different from the life Khlarion lived. Charles Xavier was always a complicated man. He grew up in a life of luxury, privileged to see the world through an idealistic lens. When he discovered his mutant power of telepathy, he was exposed to a different view of the world, a world which hated those like him.

Through his search to find those like him, he found the man called Magneto, a man he would see as a dear friend and brother in arms, in the fight for a better world. Charles felt a pull to bring together those who were like him. He wanted to provide sanctuary for fellow mutants, and raise them to properly harness their abilities not so they could rule over the world, but coexist among humanity. This put him in direct conflict with his brother. This clash of ideology left the world continuously divided on mutantkind, and set back the chance at peaceful coexistence by centuries.

But through all their conflict, Charles Xavier would find other mutants. He would mentor them, foster their gifts, and become a pseudo father to many of them. With those children, he formed the X-Men. He turned lost souls into heroes. Every action he took was because he believed in the crusade for peace, and a dedication to compassion. He made many, many mistakes along the way. He made choices that made those he loved resent him. Some would even say "Charles Xavier is a jerk." But through it all, Charles Xavier was a man with hope in his heart, and a desire to make the world a safer place for everyone. That's how most of the different Charles Xaviers were, albeit some were even more flawed than others. But that wasn't the life Khlarion X led.

At the center of the web, a bleaker story was shown. They showcased a world that was once similar to the others, but was changed by Magneto. They showed a young boy who was the biological brother of Magneto, rather than a metaphorical brother. They showed the brothers undergoing the most gruesome fate humanity had ever seen: the Holocaust. They saw the boy that should have gone on to Professor X killed in the death camps. The boy was nothing but a stepping stone and motivator for the boy that'd become Magneto. He was one more tragedy that turned Erik Lensherr into one of the most volatile forces in the world, and without Professor X and the X-Men to challenge his reign, Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants conquered the world.

The only reasons the same didn't happen in this world were because when Erik Nelson's powers were gifted to him by the Helm of Nabu, the Lords of Order were there to temper his emotions, and the Marvelous Society of America were there to console a grieving traumatized child. Sergeant Speed and Wonder Crystal, among others, helped turn the boy into a hero. And in this world as well, Charles Xavier became more than a footnote in Erik's origin.

A tense silence fell over the room. Jessica looked at the two nonagenarians, unsure of how to respond to any of what she was hearing. How would anyone respond to something like that?

Before the worlds collided, Magneto was still using the Infinity Gems to reshape the universe as he saw fit. The trauma Erik faced, combined with his complex relationship with Charles led to Magneto using the gems to change to reality before Doctor Fate and Klarion the Witch Boy got their magical hands all over it: Rather than simply rewrite the world so that the Holocaust never happened, the events were so entrenched within Erik's mind, he could not let go of the trauma, and he went with a much more complicated solution which would have led him to rule. The consequences of this robbed Charles Xavier of any agency within his own story, and gave Klarion the perfect soul to be amalgamated with.

Khlarion looked physically and emotionally drained from having to witness the rest of his history. "Now you see why I wasn't so inclined to show that part."

Jessica had a lot of complicated emotions running through her head, "In so many universes, you were the one thing that kept my father from becoming a tyrant. And in the one timeline where the two of you were closest, you never even had a chance. It's…it's just not fair," she said as she started to understand the cosmic gravity of it all.

"I know that I come off as pretty sinister, Jessie. I can't help it. It's in my nature. But my nature is also to be a teacher, to help people become the best versions of themselves," Khlarion explained. "I loved Erik, I did everything I could to try and help him be more than what the Lords of Order made him. I failed at that. But now, I get a chance to help you become the best version of yourself."

Jessica let out a heavy sigh, "I want to believe you, I really really do. But how do I know you're still not out to corrupt my power? I don't need yours anymore, I have my willpower back, what's stopping you from turning it into something darker?"

"Kid, I wish I could tell you," Khlarion answered frankly. "But I can't prove a negative. You know what I am, I know what you are, you're just gonna have to trust me. Can you?" He didn't exactly say that he wasn't going to do that.

He extended out his hand as he asked. Instinctively, it lit with green flames again. Realizing a second too late, he quickly shook his hand to dispel the fire, "Sorry, force of habit."

She briefly reflected on everything that's happened to her in the past twenty minutes. Khlarion is an absolute nutjob. But assuming what she was going to see once she got out of this proves it, he's family. He was also the key to everything else she wanted. She could work to become a hero again, she could learn more about her father, and she could learn to accept herself for the person she is.

There were risks with trusting him. His power was beyond much of what the League had faced before. The brain her was telling her that this was a terrible idea, that no amount of power was worth the risk of keeping him around, unknown to the league. But her heart was telling her that this was family, family who was wronged on a cosmic scale, and being there for him would be good for the both of them.

Jessica flashed her uncle a smile, extended out her ringed hand, and shook it. "I think I can, Uncle Charles. But, I'd like it if you could tone down the chaos, just a little bit, please."

Khlarion let out a little chuckle which devolved into something akin to maniacal laughter, devolving further into a cough that snapped him back to normal, "Thanks Jessie, I'll do my best to keep my darker impulses under control."

Jessica turned to the Madame, "Thank you, so much for everything you've done. I feel like a very different person than I have been for the past few months."

The Madame sighed in contentment, "I only brought you to where you are supposed to be. There are great things in store for you, Emerald Witch. May the web weave a satisfying ending for you."

Khlarion looked over at the portal still plugged up by Jessica's construct, "Can we get outta here, now?"

"I believe there is one more thing you forgot to deal with, Charles," the Madame spoke up.

Khlarion was briefly confused, until he looked out the window to see all of the people outside still psychically frozen in place, "Wow, I almost forgot about that." He then put his fingers to his temples and released his hold over the dozens of people outside, and everything returned as if nothing happened.

Jessica shuddered at the display of power, "Never do that to me, okay?" She implored as she removed her constructed drain plug from the hellhole.

"Sure, why not?" Khlarion dismissively responded as he wheeled over to the portal. His wheelchair seemed to fall through, but the Witch Boy himself seemed to weightlessly hover directly above it in a sitting position. He only fell through after he briefly looked down to see what was beneath him, plummeting through the portal like a coyote would into a canyon.

Jessica chuckled at the cartoonish display before gently clasping the Madame's hands, "Thank you again."

"I will always remain here if you desire another reading, or even if you just want someone else to talk to that may give you a more…objective point of view about your father. Best of luck, dear." the Madame responded before gesturing a hand to playfully shoo her off.

Jessica leapt into the portal with an exclamation of excitement, her voice slowly fading into a silence until the portal closed itself off.

Chapter 22: Golden Years

This world was born quite recently, but it doesn't feel like that. The spells cast by the Fatal Compass and Khlarion X had to successfully weave together two completely different universes of history together in a way for them to coexist in tandem with each other. Eons of history became intertwined to manifest a self-sustaining continuity. The inhabitants of the Amalgam have only lived for six months, but their memories have lasted lifetimes. I think it would be novel to look back on what the LMI believes to have come before them, back to the Golden Age of Heroes that never was.

People with powers had been recorded on Earth since Ancient Egypt, but they had always been relegated to myths and legends. Asgardians, Amazons, the city of Atlantis, witchcraft and sorcery were things of fantasy for centuries. Time had rendered humanity to being simple, mundane creatures who relied on only their wits and technology. But the second world war gave birth to a different breed of people for the whole world to see: the Superheroes, and the Supervillains. But there exists a profound darkness in some people which drives them to do the impossible for the pursuit of power.

In the time of the Second World War, Adolf Hitler embodied that darkness. He was a true monger of hate in every sense of the word. He built an empire which conquered half of Europe, and could have conquered the world. In most realities, he lost, but he was dangerously close. Many look back on how if he had made one or two better decisions, had a butterfly flapped its wings in another direction, anyone in his place could rule the world. Some did more than just look back.

Not one, but two, separate, unaffiliated time travelers had come from different points in the future to aid Hitler and the Nazi regime, in hopes of using them for their own benefits in the future. These men were Kang Degaton and Johann Thawne.

Upon the two time-traveling Nazis meeting each other, they realized they could help each other out. Kang was millennia ahead of Thawne, so if they worked together to help the buffoon with the tiny mustache take over the world, they could create a stable enough empire that could last until Thawne's time for him to rule, and then in turn keep the same regime around long enough for Kang to then rule. In their minds, it seemed like a perfect plan.

Their plan included creating a shadow society operating behind the scenes of the Axis Powers. Kang wielded the Spear of Destiny, the weapon which pierced the body of Jesus Christ, and His blood giving it godlike abilities. Thawne, meanwhile, was a genius engineer and physicist who could create things leagues beyond what the people of the time could fathom. The two men from the future used their technological knowledge to advance Nazi science to unfounded new heights. Plans were put in place so that no matter what happened, their operations could continue to sustain themselves. Cut off one head, two more grow back in its place. They provided Hitler with a cabal of sinister heads, and together, they formed the Hydra of Injustice.

But where there is evil, good will rise to overcome it. That is the simple truth of this world. A mysterious man by the name of Ted Timely had popped up in America. He was a Renaissance man of sorts, stumbling into various scientific projects and adventurous expeditions, and leaving just as quick. Many of his appearances would lead to the birth of the impossible.

An engineer named Sam Horton designs a biomechanical cell which would become the building blocks of artificial life, leading to the creation of the photokinetic android, the Human Lantern. Logan and Ororo Hall would stumble upon an Egyptian temple, find artifacts made of Adth Metal, including one that would imbue them with memories of past lives, becoming Wolfhawk and Stormbird. Rex Nasland would create a miracle pill that could make him a human juggernaut for one hour a day, making him become the Spirit-o'-60-Minutes. And after a visit to Professor Hugh Erskine's laboratory, exposure to what was thought to be "hard water vapor" would give Esteban Garrick superhuman strength, stamina, and most importantly, speed.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt would recruit these people and many others to create a team to not only dispel Axis espionage in the United States, but eventually go overseas to fight off the Nazis and Hydra's increasingly powerful weapons and army. He would dub them the MSA, the Marvelous Society of America.

As agents of the free world, the Society fought valiantly to end the Nazi regime. There'd be periods where individual members would be stationed with normal platoons. Sergeant Speed was stationed in Austria with Captain Leonard "Bucky" Barnes and the Easy Commandos. But when Hydra reared their ugly heads, the entire Society would storm them as a united front. Battle after battle proved that the MSA were one of the fiercest, most capable team of people the world had ever seen. Their impact not only strengthened the Allied Powers physically, but the common citizen knowing they had heroes standing up for their freedom kept their spirits high.

But the heads of Hydra fought just as hard. Kang and Thawne's technology provided the Axis Powers with guns which could vaporize a man, tanks capable of flattening anything the Allies could throw at them, they even performed biological experiments on their own soldiers to create pseudo-supermen to rival the might of the MSA. War had evolved to a point where the battles fought by the average soldier were naught but set-dressing to a much grander clash of titans. Despite all their power, the Society couldn't provide an easy end to the war, but they made sure the playing field remained level.

Enter one of the final battles of the war on the European front. It was July, 1945. The world could breathe easier knowing that Adolf Hitler was gone. His death was at the hands of Alan Hammond, vaporized by a concentrated blast of green light. The story spread to the public was that he killed himself in shame of defeat and fear of surrender. But this was a falsehood spread to prevent any potential successors from mythologizing him. The Japanese threat was nearing their end as well with the production of the Atom Bomb. This one last technological contribution by the mysterious Ted Timely, who was secretly a member of the MSA under the moniker the Star Centurion. The only forces which remained a threat were the supernatural.

The Society were flown in by plane to the extremely well guarded castle in Bavaria which housed the heads of the Hydras of Injustice. Intelligence told them they would be launching their final assault from there; they were intercontinental ballistic missiles targeted towards the capitals of Allied territories. Their mission was to neutralize and detain, if possible, all remaining members of Hydra and stop the bombs from reaching home soil. This was the final showdown between those that stood for justice, and those that clutched for tyranny.

On the flight to the site, the air was tense. Their plane was shrouded by the clouds, courtesy of Stormbird's weather control. Their pilot was one Colonel Trevor. The Star Centurion was flying right beside the plane to serve as air defense in-case of an assault. For now, the Society was as safe as they could be.

The Sergeant sat in quiet contemplation about the oncoming battle. Wolfhawk was their chairman because he was willing to do things the others wouldn't. But on the field, Sarge was the true leader. His super speed extended even to his mind. He could process information a hundred times faster than anyone else on the team. One thing he always had was time; time to think, time to plan in the moment. It made him the perfect strategist.

But he couldn't do everything at once. A slight miscalculation, one wrong variable in the heat of a battle could lead to disastrous consequences. One slight push to get someone out of range of gunfire, at just the wrong angle, and a soldier flies out a train, off a bridge, and into a ravine. The guilt of those he couldn't save was always on his mind.

As of now, Sarge was planning for the final showdown. They weren't attacking at full strength. Previous battles left Catfish, Blonde Canary, Midnight Angel, Atomic Jack, and the Man in the Moon unable to fight. Their strongest fighter, the Spectral Rider, the Spirit of Vengeance, had departed early because of all the souls in Hell he now needed to punish. It always felt like there was one more empty seat than there should be, but empty seats are one of the things war makes best. But regardless, those who remained were ready to end this once and for all.

Sergeant Speed was darting around the plane. To everyone else, he looked like a hyperactive kid, but in reality, he was pacing around in deep thought, preparing strategy for the oncoming battle. The plane they flew around in was a repurposed cargo vessel. It wasn't traditionally meant for passengers, let alone this many. His costume during this period was a tad simpler and more tactical. His boots and cowl were brown instead of red and blue. Red suspenders were slung over a deep maroon leather jacket adorned with the symbol of a white star with a single lightning bolt trailing off of it like a comet.

He may have looked a little drab compared to the brighter colors he'd wear in the future, but the garish winged helmet was a timeless accessory to the Sergeant. The helmet itself was once the one his father wore in the first world war, but the wings were fashioned and affixed to his helmet by his dear sister in arms, Wonder Crystal.

Wonder Crystal was in a more mascotish outfit during the war. She wore a bright yellow bodice adorned with golden armor shaped like an eagle on the chest, what could be described as dark blue underwear covered in white stars, and red sandals. The U.S. wanted to paint her as the ideal American Woman. Diana found the costume comfortable and easy to fight in, so she went along with it for the time.

Diana was brought to Man's World by a pilot who, at first, crashed on her home island of Themyscrattilan, Colonel Trevor. She left at the behest of her family because she wanted to spread the peaceful ideals of her people to a world that seemed in desperate need of them. They let her go, believing she'd eventually be back after realizing how terrible the rest of the world was.

She was quite naive at first, even blunt in her delivery. The U.S. was ready to treat her as an enemy with how outspoken she was as a woman in the 40's. But her friendship with Colonel Trevor, her time living in America, and even the admittedly embarrassing period of her posing as the MSA's secretary, helped her build a connection to humanity that made her into the hero she was.

But with all her power, her immortality, there was always a level of detachment from the world around her. The years she spent in this world felt like a few days. Nothing felt that real to her as she knew it would all be gone in a blip. Despite that, she cared deeply for all life, anyway. She was sympathetic to what she saw as the plight of living for such a short period, that everything she did was to preserve the life they had to spare.

Diana was able to anticipate the Sergeant's pacing pattern and positioned herself to stand in his way and catch him. She stopped him in his tracks and placed a hand on his shoulder. She could always tell when Esteban was feeling uneasy. "Keep that up, and you'll burn a hole in the floor," she joked. "Are you alright, Hermes?" Diana had given nicknames to all the members of the Society after the Greek Pantheon. She saw all of them as her brothers and sisters in arms. But of all them, Sergeant Garrick was always her closest friend.

Sergeant Speed maintained a stiff upper lip, "I'm fine. I'm just planning our attack. We're down a heavyweight without Namor. No McNider means our wounded could die. Not to mention, we've lost our guardian angel. Corrigan was our ace in the hole, and without him, victory's not guaranteed. I don't want to make any unnecessary sacrifices today."

"I feel the same," Diana agreed as she took his hand. "The cost of war has taken a toll on all of us. All we can do is minimize how many have to suffer. But if we win today, we can finally enjoy the peace we've fought so hard to ensure for others. That's the dream, right?" Real war was an awakening for the Inhuman if their lives were hard for her to comprehend, she hadn't seen that much death before. But that didn't quell her unerring hope and optimism. She made sure to always remember what she was fighting for: a better world where people knew they were loved. While men could die, ideas were immortal.

"Yeah, maybe I just don't know what to do with myself. I have so many directions I can go," Sarge said optimistically. "Maybe I go back into chemistry, maybe I go into private investigation, or maybe I could just slow down, relax, and draw some landscapes. That'd be nice, assuming we all make it through." His brief excitement started to fall as a wave of dread started to seep through again.

"Don't think about it like that, Esteban. We're going to win this war, and then we're going to go home," Diana assured, flashing a smile to ease his nerves. Of course, she had her doubts, but she truly believed things would turn out okay. If the Sergeant could see her at ease, she hoped he would loosen up too. The Society needed a confident leader to drive them into battle.

"Not everybody gets to go home. Good men laid down their lives so that we could finish what they started. It's my responsibility to at least make sure everyone on this plane makes it back alive." The weight of that leadership pressed hard on the Sergeant's shoulders, especially the guilt of his failures.

Diana sighed, knowing who he was referring to specifically. "Captain Barnes was a good man. All you can do is make sure his sacrifice means something. Honor him as he lived, and he'd be proud to see everything we've done in his and all those other soldiers' memories."

Esteban cracked a smile, reinvigorated with more reason to keep fighting, "Gracias, mi hermana. You're right. We'll do this, and we'll do it for them!"

"There's my Hermes," Diana said with pride, "Keep up that confidence, and we'll get this done in a flash."

Sarge had a self-assured grin on his face, "Ha, I can do this all day."

"Don't forget you still owe Peggy a dance." Diana added with a playful punch to the arm, although there was a hint of regret on her face. Things didn't work out the way she hoped with Colonel Trevor. A relationship with that mortal would never have worked out. But she was just happy that her friend found someone. Peggy was a British agent who'd been a part of recruiting the then recently empowered Esteban Garrick to join the army. She saw the man behind the mask for what he was. Over the course of his service, the Sergeant built a relationship with her.

About a minute of strategy talk later, Rex Naslund emerged from the door to the cockpit. The Spirit of 60 Minutes wore a white shirt patterned like the face of a clock, black gloves with red straps, and a black eye mask, all draped in a yellow cloak and hood. Lastly, he wore an hourglass on a string around his neck. "I've been talking to Centurion over the radio. He says we're only a few minutes out," he relayed. "The pilot says we're gonna have to drop in from above."

"Given that most of us can fly, that should not be an issue," Alan Hammond, the Human Lantern chimed in matter-of-factly. The android looked very plain, just appearing as a blonde man with a red shirt and domino mask. The only distinguishing feature of his was a large green lantern bulb sticking out from his chest.

Diana pat Sarge on the back, "I'll carry you down, if you wish."

"Works for me," Sarge replied with a smirk and a shrug.

"Would like for me to provide you passage to the ground, Rex?" Alan offered as he raised his arm to create a construct made of hard light in the shape of a simple circular platform. Unbeknownst to the Society, the lantern which powered the android was an ancient prototype lantern battery to those used by the Green Mystics Coven.

Rex shook his head, a little uncomfortable at the proposition. "I'll be fine, Teapot. I don't like being carried, especially by you."

"Oh. Alright then," Alan responded with little emotion. His expression didn't change at all, so nobody could tell what his internal reaction was.

Diana and Sarge shot Rex a look of disdain.

"Not because he's a robot, God!" Rex quickly defended himself. "I'm just saying, when he flies, he glows green and is kind of hot. He might be radioactive, we don't know!"

"While I can assure you I am not radioactive, I can understand your apprehension. Consider no ill will, Spirit," the Lantern replied in the exact same tone as before. Hammond was the ultimate stoic; no one could ever quite tell what he was thinking.

"So, Sarge, what's the plan?" asked Ororo Hall, Stormbird. She was a black woman with cloud white hair, a white jumpsuit, a long, flowing silver cape, and a silver birdlike helmet with black, wing-shaped crests covering the eyes. All of which were covered in Adth-Metal accents. "As fun as it would be, I don't think a guns blazing attack would be wise."

"According to the intel we got from Swift, there's a weapons bay where the missiles are going to be launched from. It's at the center of the castle, surrounded by Hydra goons at all entrances. Degaton's spear also has some kind of force field to keep us from bombing the launching bays from the air," the Sergeant described.

"So, how do we get in," Rex asked.

"Star Centurion says he can disable the shield with his Tachyon Rod, so once we get past, we'll have to mow through the remaining goons Hydra has on their payroll. That's where the guns start blazing. Me, Rex, the Hawks, and Diana will storm the front. Alan and Fate will join the Centurion and bust through to the bay from above. We'll fan out and corner the remaining heads of Hydra into one-on-one fights, incapacitate them, disarm the bombs, and let the ground troops clean up the rest."

Ororo seemed pleased with this plan, "So, we're just cracking some heads today. I can work with that."

"Now Ororo, it almost makes it seem like you enjoy the violence," teased Diana. The Halls were the first people beyond her home island who were of similar age to her. At first, she was excited to know people who properly understood her. Her and Ororo had some friendly banter, but she never got along with her husband.

"I take pride knowing our actions help children sleep better at night. Our duty is to make the world a more just place. Ridding it of those who commit injustice upon others is the best way to do it. Wouldn't you agree, love?" Stormbird asked towards the man whose arm was wrapped around her: her husband Wolfhawk.

"I'm with her on this one," He answered gruffly. Logan Hall was dressed complimentary to Ororo, except all the silver and white were replaced with gold and black. His helmet looked closer to a combination of canid and avian features rather than just the latter, and he had a large pair of Adth-Metal wings protruding from his back instead of a cape. And on his hands were gauntlets with retractable claws. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about fighting these guys, Princess. This ain't the pace for your Themyscrattilanian Peace and Love shtick."

"I'm just saying that I don't relish the violence. There's always a chance for anyone to be better. Even the darkest hearts can have light within them," Diana asserted.

"That's real cute, Princess," Logan responded with a chuckle. "In my past lives, most wars I've fought have had more complex arguments for each side. We'd have to grapple with the moral dilemmas of what side you should fight for. That is not the case here. The Nazis are so blatantly evil, that I have no qualms slicing them up, and Hydra is just that but without the ambiguity of supporting their country. These guys are just evil for the sake of it. And the only good one's a dead one." The hawk man concluded with a quick pop of his claws.

Ororo caressed the side of Logan's face. He was quite short compared to her. "I love your righteous fury," she said before kissing him on the cheek. "I for one can't wait for you to turn them into Fasc-shish kebabs."

"We're far enough into the war where anyone who really cared about where the souls ended up got outta dodge a while ago. Anyone who's left knows what they did, and deserves what's coming," Logan said seriously. He and Ororo were the reincarnations of Ancient Egyptian warriors, and they had little to no reservations against killing in an environment such as this.

"Agreed," a quick, hushed, but echoed voice said from the seat beside the Hall couple. It was Erik, the fun-sized Fatal Compass. He was barely a teenager at this point, but the Helm of Nabu made him their greatest asset at this point. He seldom spoke to the rest of them, so Logan was slightly startled when he did.

The Society was conflicted about recruiting the child to fight in the war. He had just suffered through the worst nightmare anyone could ever experience. But with the powers he had, without anyone there to guide him, focus his rage and grief into something healthy, Erik could easily be the next biggest supervillain. Both Diana and Esteban voted against this, but they were outnumbered. Regardless, both of them did everything they could to be positive influences on the boy while he was in their care.

Diana walked over to Erik's seat and got down to his level, "Hi, buddy. Is everything okay, can I get you anything? I think Sarge has some MREs in his pack," she said very softly. She tried hard to be a sort of maternal figure to him, thinking he'd need it after the loss of his own parents.

The Fatal Compass remained still. The helm didn't allow much for expression, so the etchings on the helm just blankly stared at Diana. "I am sustained, we will be breaching the castle soon. The Lords of Order are prepared to enact their will on those who have disrupted the natural flow of things," he said, sounding rather detached.

Logan grabbed the Helm of Nabu and gently removed it from Erik's head. He knew that if the boy spent too long under the helm's influence, he'd start to lose himself. "Take a breath, Erik. Just let yourself be you for a 're gonna need to go into this fight with a clear head, just a few minutes without Nabu whispering in your ear," he explained with genuine concern for the kid. "I knew Nabu in my first life, he was an arrogant asshole."

"Language, Logan! He's a kid," Sarge proclaimed in annoyance. He then reached into a pouch on his belt and tossed Erik a field ration bar. "But he's right, get your head in the right spot, and build some strength."

"Thank you, Sarge." Erik unwrapped the ration and started biting into it. It tasted pretty bland, but that was expected. He really just appreciated someone caring about him. Erik was seldom alone with his thoughts. They were mainly full of rage. He was angry at the world for wronging his people, but he was angrier at himself for not being able to save the people he loved sooner.

He was given godlike powers by cosmic entities who wanted to weaponize his grief and rage for the sake of their mission. Even now, Erik knew that the being inside the helm wanted to use him. But the Society treated him with respect and kindness. They all worked together to try and take care of Erik, making sure his humanity was not lost to the magic's influence. Erik Nelson was a good kid, and the MSA helped him stay that way.

"You're dropping in thirty seconds, chaps! Get ready," a voice called out from the cockpit. It was their pilot, Colonel Trevor.

"Let's give the pilot a quick goodbye, just in case we don't see them again," Diana suggested to Sarge.

Sarge nodded and dashed to the cockpit. Diana was quick to follow behind. Once they both entered, the pilot put the plane on autopilot and stood from their chair to greet them. Up from her chair stood Colonel Margaret "Peggy" Trevor. The pilot who brought Diana to Man's world and the agent who'd brought the Sergeant to the war effort were one in the same. She was a taller woman with curly dirty blonde hair, dressed in a standard pilot's uniform.

"Break kneecaps out there, 'Steban, though preferably not yours. And don't forget our dance," the pilot requested of the Sergeant.

Sarge took her hand and pulled her into an embrace, "Stork Club, next Saturday. I'll never forget a date like that with my best girl. Although, I might be a little late," he joked, unintentionally jinxing his fate. Peggy would giggle before the two would then share a passionate kiss. Diana would stand aside awkwardly in quiet envy until an alarm went off in the cockpit's console.

"Oh, right, time to drop! Good luck," Peggy called out after pulling away. She slammed a button on the panel to open the cargo door in the back of the plane. While she still could, she jumped back into her seat and strapped in.

One by one, all of the other Society members leapt from the safety of the plane into the unknown below. Logan's and Ororo's wings unfurled. They shared a quick kiss, and they dove down towards the castles. Bolts of lightning followed Stormbird as she soared.

The Human Lantern's entire body glowed a radiant light green as he rocketed out the open door to join the Halls.

The Star Centurion's bright red and green costume could then be seen following down alongside the others.

Erik had re-equipped the Helm of Nabu in the nick of time, transforming back into the Fatal Compass, and elegantly floating down with a beautiful purple and gold cloak.

Rex was the last to exit amongst those in the cargo bay. He reached into his belt and grabbed a small golden pill from a compartment. "Sixty minutes, make'em count," he muttered before downing the pill and inverting the hourglass to measure how much longer his miracle pill would last. His whole body shimmered with a golden aura for a moment, and he leapt out of the plane, plummeting to the ground like a rock.

"I'll see you soon, Peg," Esteban said, tipping his hat to her, and dashing out the plane like a madman. He knew Diana would catch him; she always did. If not, there were still five other people out there who could.

Diana was stunned for a moment. She was going to say something to the Colonel, something to reconcile whatever baggage they held before, but she was stopped by Peggy.

"Hey, Angel, it's alright," Peggy said with a knowing smile, "Just make sure you and Sarge come home with your shields, and not on them." It was an old Greek saying a wife would tell their husband before they went off to war.

Diana could take that however she wanted sighed. With a nod, she ran towards the cargo hold and did a swan dive out of the plane. She jumped quite a while after everyone else, so she had some catching up to do.

It was about twenty seconds before she finally caught up to Sarge plummeting. He was spinning his arms rapidly to form an updraft beneath him to slow his descent, but he was falling too fast for that to be effective. Diana reached out her arm and Sarge took it. With her other hand, she channeled a powerful air current beneath them. Now better controlling her descent, she soared down to the rest of the team with the Sergeant hanging beneath her.

The Society shot down from the plane to the castle like bombs. Unsurprisingly, the castle's anti-aircraft artillery treated them as such. Mounted onto the castle were two hi-tech laser cannons firing upon them from the east tower. The entire base was outfitted with Thawne's future tech. Those things could vaporize a man if they made contact.

The fliers swerved out of the way as they charged towards the ground. Sarge remembered the force fields and knew any brute counterattacks wouldn't work. But in his slowed perception of time, he realized that if the guns could fire through the shield to get to them, there was a small window for which their attacks could slip through. "Lantern, give us cover! Stormbird, Centurion, fire on my signal!" Sarge called out through the weather.

Alan raised his hand and summoned a massive brick wall made of green light to shield them from the second cannon's blast. Sarge had impeccable timing, as soon as he could see the laser even begin to pass through the barrier, he began to call out his order "Stormbird, now!" He even factored in for Ororo and the Centurion's reaction time to get them to fire at just the right moment.

Ororo channeled electricity through her fingertips, her eyes crackled with light blue sparks, and she called forth a powerful bolt of lightning from the heavens above and sent it crashing into the first cannon.

Sarge waited for the timing again for the first cannon to fire again, and the Star Centurion's timing was nearly just as perfect as his was. Right as he saw another opening, "Star, let'er rip!" He knew his team's strengths and sent his signal at the perfect moment.

Lastly, the Star Centurion raised a glowing blue staff, the Tachyon Rod and fired another beam of energy through the Human Lantern's barrier, knocking out one of the bricks in the wall. It then ripped right into the other cannon and knocked part of the tower free from the rest of the castle. Stone and brick collapsed to the side into the valley moat below. On top of destroying the defenses, the shield itself popped like a bubble from the blast.

The Star Centurion stood out from the rest of the team. Most distinctly, his face was shrouded in a blue, form-fitting mask beneath a red helmet akin to a Roman Centurion, metal mohawk and all. The rest of his armor didn't fit the theming whatsoever. It was covered in futuristic paneling, lines, and weird orbs covering his pants. The only recognizable iconography was a yellow star in the middle of his chest, and a green waist cape flowing behind him. He looked absolutely uncanny.

"I find it quite fortunate you are on our side, Star Centurion." Alan commented with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Somebody had to be." His voice was eerily deep and coarse. The Centurion took himself very seriously, the fate of the future resting on his shoulders and all. "Let me handle Degaton, and everything else should go smoothly."

Alan powered down his wall construct and continued his descent. His efforts at friendliness often went in vain, though perhaps trying for that in a war zone wasn't the brightest idea. Being the first humanoid artificial intelligence provided certain kinks in how the mind functioned.

The rest of them then all landed at the drawbridge. It was mobbed with Hydra henchmen with futuristic weaponry guarding the main gate. These weren't the man vaporizing guns the tower had, but they were still fairly effective on normal men. But their fire wasn't focused on normal men.

The Spirit of 60 Minutes was charging through the goons like a bulldozer. Because he couldn't fly, he hit the ground far before everyone else. There was a crater right before the bridge where he landed. But he was unharmed, his miracle pill made him nigh indestructible as he absorbed the brunt of their fire, and knocked them off the bridge like bowling pins. But there were a lot of bowling pins. While unharmed, he was starting to get overwhelmed by sheer numbers swarming him.

"How's it going fellas? I was having a great time before you guys showed up! Come back in 58, I got this!" Rex called out sarcastically to the rest of the team as he was tossing people around like ragdolls.

Diana had since put Sarge down. He got the lay of the land and started barking orders. "Fate, Lantern, go up with Star. Diana, Hawks, you're with me. Society, Strike!" He ordered very blunt and quickly.

Sarge took a runner's position and then blitzed right through the army. In three seconds, thirty men were thrown off the bridge. Wolfhawk began ripping and tearing through the Hydras with no regard for anything else around him. Meanwhile, Diana and Ororo combined their powers of wind and ice together to summon a contained blizzard to throw the remaining soldiers into a deep freeze. But as the bridge was coated in a blanket of snow, Sarge lost his footing and nearly flew off the edge.

Diana quickly summoned her Liquid Lasso of Purity from her canteen to ensnare the Sergeant and bring him back onto the bridge. "Careful, Esteban."

"Watch it with the flurries. I don't do well with ice and cold," he warned as the path was finally fully cleared by Wolfhawk and the Spirit finishing off everyone else.

Logan was covered in blood, Ororo didn't seem very worried as most of it didn't seem to be his. He didn't say a word, just taking deep breaths as he seethed in what could be called a berserker rage.

Rex looked at his hourglass to gauge how much time he had left for his pill to keep working, "Alright, I got 50 minutes left, let's get a move on!"

The society members on the ground charged into the castle. Halls and corridors became a labyrinth to navigate. They just had to find the center of the castle. This could have been a hassle had they not had someone on the team who could control and manipulate earth. "Diana, would you do the honors?" Sarge requested.

Diana gestured her hands and forced apart the stone which made up the walls of the castle like she was opening curtains. The whole challenge of this mission was trivialized because the people doing it knew how to use their powers effectively.

The MSA filed through the breaks in the walls and entered the main chamber of the castle. Sarge remained on high alert as they arrived. He looked around to see six corridors leading from this room. And at its center was a massive machine none of them recognized. To us, it would appear to be a highly advanced supercomputer. Linked to it were the firing systems for all the missiles. The team crowded around it, understanding it to potentially be the instrument of their destruction.

Stormbird's hands began to crackle with electricity, "Looks like something I can fry to destroy. Any arguments against it?"

"Hold off, you might set it off. Keep your head on a swi-" the Sergeant advised before he was slammed straight in the chest by a red and black blur that came out of nowhere. He was pinned against the wall with a hand to his neck, and another hand vibrating at a blistering speed aimed straight for Sarge's chest. The assailant was dressed in a crimson bodysuit. The emblem of a skull with tentacles stretched across the body, and man, nay, the monster's head was but a red skull with piercing black eyes.

"Hallo, Herr Sergeant. I vas hoping you vould arrive in time to see the launch. Every great triumph requires an audience. I cannot vait to see you fall and crumble like all zhat came after you," the skull began to monolog. This was Johann Thawne, leader of the Hydras of Injustice, and the ruby-faced menace known as the Red Blitzkrieg.

"Get away from him!" Diana had unfurled her lasso again to wrap the water around Thawne's hand, yanking it away from Esteban. This gave him just the window he needed to slip free of Johann, remove his helmet and bash him in the stomach with the brim. Sarge then returned to his team.

"This world will never belong to Hydra, Blitz. Not now, not ever," the Sergeant boasted as he put his helmet back on.

Thawne reeled from the strike, only to then laugh at them. "Zhere is so much beyond your understanding, Sergeant. Nozhing you do today vill matter. You run tovards a vorld vhich vill render you obsolete. Zhis vorld vill cast you aside for anyzhing which can provide it somezhing better. It is the nature of progress, und I am zhe final step. You cannot compete vith time." He spoke with deep conviction, as if he'd seen it all before, maybe he even made it happen. Regardless, he seemed to relish every second.

"Alright, he's starting to bore me," Ororo said, having none of the Nazi's nonsense. She fired a blast of lightning from her hand towards Thawne. He was fast enough to dodge it like it was a softball.

Thawne chuckled as he looked upon the other standing beside the Sergeant. "The savages from Egypt, a shame. It vould have been fun to tear your wings from your back, und dip zhem in a savory remoulade."

Wolfhawk popped his claws again, "Take one more step, bub, and you're sauerkraut."

"I vould love to see you try to lay a hand on me, Hundvogel. But you are not vorzh my time. I have ozhers who can deal vizh you." Thawne raised his hand, started vibrating it at high speeds, and snapped it so fast it generated a sonic boom.

The snap echoed through the halls of the castle. From each of the surrounding corridors to the main hall emerged the Heads of Hydra. First was Brock Mahkent, Bonechiller: a Scandinavian with gauntlets capable of generating ice and cold. Then came Bentley W. Zarick, the Wizard: an engineer who mastered Thawne and Degaton's technology to a level of mimicking sorcery. From the corridor they came from entered Baroness Paula Von Strucker, a German spy wielding a mystic gauntlet called the Warmaster's Claw. From the back crept Lawrence and Julia Masters, the Master Sportsman and the Apex Warrior: Nazi sympathizers turned Super Soldiers by Hydra's bioengineer. Said engineer, Arnim King, Bio-Wave came from a balcony above everyone else. He wasn't much of a fighter, he just seemed to be there to observe. Lastly, Kang Degaton seemingly teleported into the room, wielding the Spear of Destiny.

The current society members were surrounded around the computer, outnumbered five to eight, but nobody looked afraid. Sarge kept his eyes trained on Thawne, who looked mighty pleased with himself. "Everyone, guard the machine. Make sure nobody can get it to launch. I'll keep Red Blitzkrieg busy, hopefully until the others arrive. Understood?"

Rex checked his hourglass, "I got 40 minutes to spare."

Wolfhawk and Stormbird gave each other eager looks, "We've faced worse odds before, Speedy. Just happy to have a challenge," Logan answered.

Diana cracked her knuckles and slammed her fists together. Her entire skin hardened and sharpened into her Terrigen Crystal form, "You'll have me until the end, Hermes."

Sarge took his runner's pose again, grabbing the brim of his helmet, "Alright then. Society Strike!" he called out as he bolted straight for Thawne, the Hydras charged towards the MSA, and all hell broke loose.

Chapter 23: The Heads of Hydra

As if a starting pistol went off to begin a race, Sergeant Speed shot towards Red Blitzkrieg like a crimson comet. Blitzkrieg's entire body fizzled with red lightning as he started running away from him. Two blurs chased each other around the castle, only perceptible in brief moments of trading punches. Anytime else, they were moving too fast to comprehend what they were doing.

Diana and the others took a defensive position around the computer. They couldn't let the Hydras access it to launch the missiles. She looked around at all their opponents, she knew Degaton and Wizard would be their biggest threats due to their understanding of the futuristic technology. But as advanced as they were, she knew she could rely on some old classics in this fight. For example: Hitting them with a rock.

The Wonder slammed her crystalized fist against the castle's stone floor, using her mastery over earth to send chunks of the floor shooting upward. The first to rise were the pieces of floor directly below Kang and Wizard. The pillars Diana summoned pinned them against the ceiling. It would keep them occupied for now, but she knew that wouldn't hold them long. The rest of the stone rose up to form a wall around them, creating a mini castle within a castle.

"Where the hell are Lantern and the others? None of us have the chops to handle those guys," the Spirit of 60 Minutes asked as he clutched the hourglass around his neck. 39 minutes were left on his powers.

"Still disarming the bombs.. They'll make it, I trust the kid," Logan answered firmly. "Real question is who's taking who?"

"I'll…take the Baroness," Diana said through a strained grunt. She was pushing herself hard to keep the pieces of the floor pushed up against the two heavy hitters. Kang was fighting back hard against her power.

"What about Kang? Sounds like he's still kicking," Ororo challenged.

"I'll take them both, at least until the Centurion gets here. He's always right on time." Diana asserted. She was the strongest one here, so she felt the need to take the extra burden. "Spirit, take Bonechiller. Hawks, take the Masters. That was Sarge and I's strategy."

Everyone seemed to trust that Sarge and Diana's tactics were sound. After that little exchange, part of the stone wall Diana summoned started to ice over and then shattered apart from one powerful punch. Bonechiller had stepped in through the hole created. Brock wore an all white winter ensemble with a skull and crossbones motif to it. He wore metal gauntlets in which one could freeze things, while the other could destroy what was frozen.

"Knock knock," Bonechiller said in a hoarse, sadistic whisper.

The Spirit of 60 Minutes quickly sprung into action and did a flying lunge towards the frigid fighter, "Sorry, we don't take solicitors!" He then nailed the Nazi square in the chest.

The two got into a fierce boxing match. The two slugged each other with heavy handed haymakers with their own enhanced strengths. The Spirit took every blow on the chin and had no signs of slowing down. His miracle pills made him nigh invulnerable.

Not even Bonechiller's icy blasts could stop the clockwork juggernaut. The frosty felon would try to encase the man of the hour in an instant glacier, but the Spirit's heart was hot with the American Spirit, and his strength allowed him to bust through any icy trap. At least for now, it was all a matter of Brock Mahkent being able to keep this cycle going long enough for Rex's power to run dry. Although, he would have to keep doing this for another 35 minutes.

Instead of appearing through the same hole that Bonechiller had made, the other assailants made their own. Another portion of the walls came crashing down from a barrage of small explosions. On the other side of the wall stood the Master Olympian. He was the spitting image of the German's ideal man. Blonde, blue eyes, and a rippling physique. Conversely, he was dressed in a tacky menagerie of Olympic sports equipment and wielding a hockey stick. It seemed the explosives were hockey pucks made of plastique.

"You know Julia, ve don't often get to do zhings vizh ozher couples," Lawrence commented jovially to his partner.

The Olympian was partnered by the Apex Warrior. She was a blonde woman dressed in a black leather costume similar to that of a dominatrix with yellow accents harkening to a tiger's stripes. While Diana was intended to represent what America viewed as the ideal female specimen, the Apex Warrior was Germany's. The two of them were created to represent the future of Hydra's reign.

"Agreed, my love. Let us relish in such a rare opportunity," the Apex Warrior replied with a snide laugh and a crack of her whip.

Stormbird pulled out her Adth-Metal mace hanging from her belt loop. She held its head to the tips of her fingers and sent a jolt of electricity into it. The ancient weapon flared to life as it conducted its power to become even more lethal.

"Julia, it's been far too long since we last clashed! Still a heartless Nazi bitch?" Ororo teased as she twirled the mace in her hands. Sparks flew around them as she did.

"Of course, are you still a worthless savage parading as a queen?" the Warrior taunted back as she readied a crossbow.

Stormbird didn't even dignify that with a response. She flapped her wings and leapt into the air, only to crash back down against the Apex with a slam of her mace to the gut. The Warrior would fire a bolt from her crossbow, but it would bounce off Ororo's wings like it was a softball. She slammed down the crossbow, shattering it.

The Warrior woman resorted to grabbing a whip from her hip and tried lashing away at Ororo. The whip slashed against her, tearing through her costume and leaving a mark on her side. This only filled Stormbird with even more rage. The next time Julia lashed her whip, Ororo let it coil around her mace, and she sent a current straight through the whip and right into its user. This briefly stunned her for a moment, allowing the winged woman to crack her mace across the Apex Warrior's jaw.

At that point, the battle devolved into the Apex Warrior trying to use a series of underhanded fighting techniques to stifle Stormbird's attacks. Meanwhile, Stormbird would either use her mace to power through them, or her grab-bag of weather attacks to shock, freeze, or blow over with a stiff breeze. And Ororo did it all with great pleasure. She took great pride in her work, and believed her violence was a necessity to effectively enact justice.

Logan was having similar success with the Master Olympian. Lawrence Masters was a decent combatant on paper, containing the injected DNA of all of Germany's Olympic winners, but he simply couldn't keep up with Wolfhawk's strength, rapid healing, and centuries of combat experience.

Throughout the whole fight, which lasted around ten minutes, Masters was far outmatched. Logan had destroyed pretty much all of the equipment he brought. When brought down to his fists, the Olympian threw a punch at Logan, only for it to be blocked by his Adth Metal wings. Lawrence was strong, but hitting the unbreakable alloy that hard caused pain to split right through his hand.

"Yaargh! Zhose vings, zhey give you a terribly unfair advantage. If it were a true hand to hand, I vould reign as Master!" the Olympian boasted, even though he was losing.

Logan scoffed, "Since when did fair play ever matter to you, bub?" He then slashed his arm down against the Master Olympian's injured hand, and sliced it clean off.

Lawrence howled in pain as he clutched his severed arm, but he didn't break eye contact with Logan. "Vell, I am a sportsman." He stared his imminent death in the face, and he was still making jokes.

Logan chuckled, "Cute last words. Tell Anubis 'Khufu says hello'." He raised his claws ready to strike him down, before being hit with a blast of fire that burned like an inferno.

Baroness von Strucker fired her Warmaster Claw at Wolfhawk, giving the Master Olympian a window to escape. He pulled a folding bicycle out of seemingly nowhere and pedaled away like a coward. The Apex Warrior, bloody and beaten, had lashed her whip to catch the fleeing bicycle, the bike dragged her off, and the two of them barely escaped into one of the many castle corridors.

Meanwhile, Thawne and Garrick continued to race around the castle. Through the corridors, Red Blitzkrieg would effortlessly pluck bricks from the walls and hurl them towards the Sergeant, only for him to block the projectiles using his helmet as a shield. Sarge would try to retaliate by hurling his helmet at the skull-faced speedster, but Thawne was far too fast to let himself get hit by it. But it always bounced around and eventually back onto Sarge's head.

They'd loop around back to certain parts of the castle at certain intervals. Sarge watched closely to see how he ran. He kept close track of the patterns Thawne took to evade his strikes. Over the course of a minute, they'd lap the whole castle interior and then some. He just needed to time his next helmet throw absolutely perfectly.

Sarge and Blitz would dash through a room lined with suits of knights' armor and tapestries regaling the exploits of one of Von Strucker's ancestors. Esteban removed his helmet, spent a split second to determine the path of flight, and let loose.

Johann Thawne thought he saw the throw coming a lightyear away. He sidestepped it with ease, slowing down just to taunt Esteban. He turned around and ran backwards to heckle, "Und here I zhought zhe great Lightning American could see faster! But he can't even see vhat's in front of him!"

Sarge was confused by the name Thawne called him, but he didn't have time to react as the helmet whizzed past Thawne, but clashed against a stone pillar beyond them. It ricocheted back towards a wall, then to one of the suits of armor. This proceeded to knock over the suits of armor lined in a row like dominos. This then knocked over a vase, and the helmet bounced off the vase mid-fall. It then careened back towards the Sergeant, missing Thawne again. But instead of catching it, Sarge ducked beneath the flying saucer of a headpiece, leading it to hit the wall behind them. It bounced straight for the Red Blitzkrieg, slamming him right in the diaphragm, knocking the wind right out of him.

While he was reeling from the lost breath, Sarge dashed to throw Blitz against the wall. His neck now in Sarge's clutches this time. "You come from the future, right? Of all times to reach back to, why now? If your future is so advanced, ruling a time like this can't be very interesting."

Blitzkrieg wheezed as he slowly regained his breath, "Oh Sergeant, do you really think I care about conquering? That's Degaton's dream."

"Then why do any of this? Why cause the slaughter of millions with your weapons? Why cause so much pain to so many innocent people?" the Sergeant asked with visceral hatred in his eyes.

"Vhy, to make you suffer, of course. It's vhat I've done for my whole life," Thawne answered with a laugh and a cough.

"Me? What's so special about me? And who's the Lightning American?"

"You? You're the first, zhe first of a long lineage of speedsters, Sergeant. Or at least, you vere."

"What did you do, Thawne?"

"Barry Frank, the Whizz: dead in 1985. His successor Speed Demon, James West, disappeared in 2005. Max Bradley, Colonel Mercury: I framed for treason and he was imprisoned for life until he died in 1969. Johnathan Burnside, Director Quick: dead in 1964. All of them vere inspired by your exploits here in zhis var. You were a friend, even a mentor to half of them. The symbol you became which zhey tried to carry on, I made sure zhey all died for it. I have rendered your legacy to a slew of dead bodies. Und now, I come all zhe vay back to vhere it all began. Your legacy starts und ends vizh you, now."

That knowledge shook Sarge to his very core, and even a fraction of a moment of hesitation was all Thawne needed to regain his composure, vibrate his molecules, and phase right through Sarge's grip. Just like that, he bolted away, leaving Sarge back on the chase.

As Sarge briefly passed through the main hall, he saw that things had taken a turn for the worse. The Masters couple was gone, but the rest of the Hydras were still on the attack. The Spirit of 60 Minutes was currently encased in an even stronger block of ice from Bonechiller, struggling to bust free. His strength was beginning to peter out, only having 20 minutes left on his powers.

Stormbird and Wolfhawk clashing against the Wizard in the air. The mechanically-inclined mystic flew around, standing on anti-gravity discs and fired concussive blasts of energy from a wand. With every blast, Logan and Ororo's wings seemed to fail them. It'd seemed the Wizard's mastery over technology included even the power which allowed their equipment to fly.

"Degaton and Thawne showed me the future of science and technology, and it is more than I could ever have hoped for! I once loved the simple charms of stage magic, the beauty of a simple hoodwink, but knowing the secrets behind every trick has become so much more fun," the Wizard gloated as he cast down more blasts against the Halls' wings.

The next hit that connected to Logan's wings sent him plummeting to the ground, sending his claws stuck into the stone floor, and he struggled immensely to get up. "What'd you do to me, bub?"

"Another trick up my sleeve! Your wings are loaded with complex mechanisms of Thani'Ar technology! Your wings are made of stuff able to nullify real magic, which would be useful if I still used that stuff, but not now!" the Wizard continued to boast. He continued to monolog about how great his technology was.

"Are you alright, Logan?" Ororo asked as she tried to assist her husband by tugging up at his wings, but to no avail.

Without the anti-gravitational properties of the Adth Metal, it was extremely heavy to carry. And with Logan being covered head to toe in the stuff, he was severely handicapped. His wings were all but literally clipped. "I'm fine. Just keep him talking and throw him around a bit. We can't let him remember what his actual job is."

"Understood," Ororo did her best to disrupt Wizard's concentration with gusts of wind and lightning strikes so that he couldn't operate the computer remotely with his tech. He'd continue to fly around and taunt the hawks about how amazing he was, buying the MSA precious time.

With the Wizard free, it was easy to infer that Diana had since been compromised in restraining him. She was holding her own against Baroness von Strucker. Her Warmaster Claw was giving Wonder Crystal's pyrokinesis a run for her money. She was currently literally fighting fire with fire, holding out her hands to try and absorb the Baroness's blasts into herself to minimize surrounding damage. But utilizing this and maintaining her crystalline form to help take the heat, she was straining herself.

The Baroness let out a sadistic cackle as she charged forward against Wonder Crystal. She had joined the Hydras out of eagerness to get a sample of the terrigen crystals Diana was subdermally composed of. She was a scientist at heart, and her mind raced with excitement for what she could do with her body.

Meanwhile, Diana still wanted to give her a chance to surrender peacefully. "Baroness, I know that you have children. Do you really want them to grow up in a world governed by fear?"

At the time of her saying this, Rex had since broken out of his icicle and threw another haymaker against Bonechiller, "Crystal, we can't be doing this right now! Wrap this up! I got 15 minutes left!"

Diana had lived for a very long time, she was in her 4920's at this point. She had spent most of her life amongst the privilege of the Inhuman Amazon Royal Family. She was trained to be the perfect warrior, but only as a means to further the mission of peace. It sounded hypocritical, but she fully believed in it, "Don't raise a sword until you first try to extend a branch," she asserted to herself. She believed in the best for everyone, even those who definitely did not deserve it. Some would call it naive, others would see it as admirable.

Paula von Strucker ignored her words and continued to turn up the heat of the gauntlet, "I chose this life because my kids deserve to live in a world which they rule with an iron fist!"

Diana walked through the Warmaster's endless fire and continued to absorb the fire, though it was unclear where the fire was going. "I can respect a mother's love, but this is not the way." She got closer and closer, her crystalline form shimmered as the light from the fire reflected off of her body.

The Baroness stared at her like she was a statue of a Greek muse. She was in awe. She stopped blasting her flames. "I'm too far gone at this point. My penchant for goodwill died long ago, I've accepted that. Also what's that over there?" She spoke in the same solemn tone for every sentence.

Diana was briefly thrown off, and looked behind her, only for von Strucker to slam the Warmaster Claw straight into the side of her face. As a result, a small piece of her crystalline body chipped off where her cheek bone would be. Wonder Crystal just stood there for a second, stunned in a combination of incredulousness that Paula not only dared to try that, but the fact that she also fell for that. It was as if a small bit of her faith in humanity chipped away just like her face.

Baroness von Strucker stood there, realizing how little her strike actually did, and also realizing how badly of a mistake she had just made. Diana turned back around to face her. She extended her closed hand out to Paula, and opened it. Briefly, she thought it was another peace offering, but those thoughts were dashed as all of the absorbed fire quickly manifested into the hand, and it all exploded right in Paula's face, sending her flying and crashing against the castle wall. Her entire body was singed, and broken. It was unclear whether she was dead or alive, but what mattered was that she and the claw were out of commission.

Diana stared at her adversary's remains on the other side of the room, "Well, I gave her a chance."

Rex had also just finished off Bonechiller, "How about you put some ice on that, Brock?" he joked before looking over at Diana. "Crystal, are you alright?"

Before Wonder Crystal could answer, a high pitched ringing could be heard. She felt a strange tingling sensation throughout her whole body. She stared at her hands, her entire crystalline form was vibrating rapidly, it was terribly painful. It was so bad that she couldn't concentrate long enough to revert back to her organic form. She couldn't move, could barely speak, and started to feel as if she was cracking apart.

The culprit revealed himself to be Kang Degaton, hovering above them while cloaked until now. He was dressed in a black military uniform reminiscent of a typical Nazi officer, but with a large purple "D" on his left lapel. In his black gloved hands was the Spear of Destiny, a glowing gold staff with a sharp tip on the end. He was brandishing it towards Diana, the weapon creating a high frequency noise capable of shattering certain crystals. He found the right one to compromise Terrigen.

"It took me a while to find the right level of hertz to shatter you, Diana Amaquelin," Kang spoke in a low, almost robotic voice. "In my time, you are a myth, just like your family. You are a cautionary tale to teach children what happens when ideals blind you from reality."

Diana couldn't even hear him, she was in so much pain. Her hands were covered in fractures, but the rest of her arms were fine. It'd seemed her bracers were the only thing holding her together for now.

"Why you no good son of a-" Rex charged and leapt at Kang. He still had ten minutes left on his pill to work with. Or so he thought. Kang merely redirected the Spear to barrage Spirit with tachyon particles, accelerating his time by not ten minutes, but ten years. Rex had become a 52 year-old man with no powers. The middle-aged man collapsed to the ground in defeat.

"The Spirit of 60 Minutes is a footnote in history, but the mind of Rex Nasland remained a deep thorn in my side. Perhaps with less time to live, your legacy will not have time to vex me." Kang said as he approached the computer. All the while, the Spear continued torturing Diana.

Wizard had since descended to the ground after taking out Stormbird, "Sorry I didn't set these things off earlier. I was a tad preoccupied, sir."

"It matters not in the grand scheme of things. All that matters is the inevitable conquest. Their interference shall mean nothing in the long run. General Thawne is handling the speedster, correct?" Kang asked as the Wizard began finalizing the data into the computer with Kang's assistance.

"Yeah. I got the birds, he's got the runner, you got the clock and the should be fine as long as Arnim took care of Lantern, Centurion, and that weird kid in the missile bay," Wizard assured.

Kang's face went white, "Wizard, he's been up there this whole time."

"What? So we just left the lynchpin of our assault unguarded?!" The Wizard assumed, "Doc, what the hell?!"

Bio-Wave looked down from his perch. He was a little man of Swiss descent. He was bald and snivelly, with large round glasses, and wrapped in an orange robe. "Don't worry, I sent some of my genetic experiments to guard the place. I'm just because I wanted to watch!"

"What's more important, Arnim?! Your own entertainment, or protecting the damn missiles?!" The Wizard shouted up at the little man.

"My Doughboys are unmatched in terms of security! I have full confidence that the missile bay is completely protected from the others!" He answered with seemingly unfounded confidence.

Kang let out a pained groan, "Bio-Wave, if you are wrong, I am going to take my Spear and introduce you to Jesus'-"

Right through the side wall of the main room, a portal shaped in the ankh of Fate opened up, and the three remaining members of the MSA arrived from it. Erik and the Centurion were covered in a weird dough like substance which were the remains of Bio-Waves security creatures. Alan remained clean, hovering as a floating ray of emerald light.

The Star Centurion stared down Kang with vitriolic fury, "DEGATON! It's time to finish what you started!" He then shot towards the time traveler like a shooting star and carried him off to fight elsewhere.

Human Lantern looked at the Wizard with bright piercing eyes, "Bentley Zarick, I would like to make you disappear, the same way you did to my creator, Professor Horton." It didn't show, but he was very angry. Alan raised his hand to create a construct of a magician's cape to form around his glowing body, and then that of boxes and a large saw. It seemed he intended to cut the Wizard in half. As the two heavy hitting heroes took their opponents, Bio-Wave slinked off into the shadows behind his perch.

With the ringing gone from earshot, Diana's agony began to cease, but slowly. Erik quickly flew to Diana's side, using a spell to revert her back to her natural state more quickly. "I could sense your anguish, Diana. We got here as soon as we could." He reached out his hand, and Diana accepted it so she could stand up.

Diana steadied her breathing and looked around, "Thank you Fate. Are the missiles shut down?"

"We could not disarm them, no. They were enchanted by the Spear to repel our magic. But we destroyed the propulsion mechanics to keep them inert here," the Fatal Compass answered. "Where is the Sergeant?"

"He's somewhere around here fighting Red Blitzkrieg, why? How is all of this going to go?" Diana asked, hoping to learn the fate of this battle.

"I cannot give you details, but Order shall be restored by end of day. The elements of chaos, the time travelers will be rectified, but at a deep cost," Fate answered vaguely. When he spoke, it sounded like a combination of Erik's own voice and his patron, Nabu. This happened when the Lord of Order was taking greater control over Erik than usual.

Diana was anxious at the response. Any augury that the Fatal Compass provided was cryptic at best, and depressingly foreboding at worst. "Can you give me anything to work with?" She asked with a hint of aggression.

She never liked Nabu; an Ancient God who cared little for the people besides what suited his mission. She resented him and the Lords of Order for co-opting an innocent child into this war, for weaponizing Erik's grief to make him their puppet, and forcing his mind within. Diana could never trust a being so callous and without compassion, but for now, she tolerated him for the sake of the mission.

Fate and Diana then began to feel a great rumbling coming from beneath them, "Something very powerful is upon us."

Thawne had eventually led Sergeant Garrick into the missile launch bay. The slimy remains of Bio-Wave's creatures coated the room with the pungent smell of yeast. Anything that wasn't covered in dough was covered in green fire. Scattered missile parts lay around the area, but the warheads remained in pristine condition. Red Blitzkrieg scowled at the remains of what would have been the piece de resistance of his master scheme. "Shiza!"

Sarge looked around as he caught his breath. He had to exert a lot more energy to keep up with the Nazi speedster. "You won't be destroying any cities tonight, Blitz!"

"I must know, how did you even know how to navigate zhis castle, let alone know where to find zhe missiles?" Thawne asked, trying to figure out what to do next.

"We've had a double agent on your team feeding us info since Normandy. Let's just say that I have friends in dark places." Sarge answered, referring to Susan Swift, the false head of Hydra, a.k.a. Mother Shade.

Thawne let out a dry sigh of regret, "Ugh, Shade, never trust an Englishwoman. To zhink, I vas going to take her as mein lover."

He smiled and admired his friends' handiwork, "It seems unlike your team, Blitz, I can rely on my eses to pull through," he said proudly. "The MSA has likely dispatched your whole team by now, and with the missiles inoperable, you've lost."

Thawne chuckled at Sarge's remark, "Eses? Oh how quaint. It's truly entertaining to see how much one small change can degrade you so much."

Sarge's expression darkened, "There's nothing small about anything you've done, Thawne. The millions dead because of Hydra, the lives you've ruined by meddling with time, destroying a legacy I've yet to leave, what was this all for? What filled you with all this hate?"

"To tell you zhe truzh, Lieutenant, I don't remember anymore. Manipulating time zhe vay I have altered mein memories so much, zhat I don't know how much of zhe original me is left. But what I know is left is deep-seated hatred for your kind." Thawne spoke candidly as he looked down at the piles of sticky biomass on the ground. "Zhat hatred is all I am, now." That last remark sounded almost pathetic coming from him.

"I'm a Sergeant, not a Lieutenant. And by my kind, do you mean speedsters or Mexicans?" Sarge asked.

"Bozh, but mainly zhe first vone!" Thawne vibrated his hand rapidly and slammed it down against the ground next to the piles of slime, sending a shock wave which sent a large glob of dough flying towards Sarge. Sarge reacted quickly and tried to grab and throw his helmet to slice through the glob. But to no avail, he was trapped against the wall before he could get it off.

Esteban tried to use his speed to run through the dough or vibrate enough to generate heat to melt it, but nothing was working. Bio-Wave engineered his monsters to be perfect at restraining and containing physical fighters like him. They would have been fairly effective had they not been set to defend against the three heroes who specialized in ranged combat.

Red Blitzkrieg bolted straight up to Sergeant Speed and taunted him by vibrating his hand right in front of his face. "I can't believe zhat vorked, I vas expecting more from zhe Lightning American. If I can't use zhe missiles to detonate zhe populace, zhen I'll just run zhem over zhere myself!" Thawne mocked as he had Sarge right where he wanted him.

Sarge struggled to try and escape from his organically composed confines, "You'll never get away with this, Thawne. My team will stop you. And who is the Lightning American?!"

Thawne could barely contain his excitement, "Oops, I must have let it slip again. Sorry, it's just so hard to keep track of everyzhing I have done to you. But I really should remember mein greatest achievement."

Sarge started to actually get a little worried, "What did you do to me, Thawne?"

Thawne began cackling maniacally as he finally explained everything. "I spoke so much of your legacy as just zhose zhat vanted to follow in your blurred footsteps. But you vere so much more zhan zhat, Sergeant. Before I got mein hands on your timeline, you veren't just a soldier or a title. You vere a symbol, a symbol of a dream, zhe American Dream!"

Sarge scoffed, "I get it, an immigrant from Mexico whose family comes to America in search of a better life, finds purpose in using the gifts his country gives him to serve his countrymen. It's a good story for anyone wh-" Esteban was interrupted by a punch to the jaw by Thawne.

"Schweigen, Herr Sergeant," Thawne ordered, "Nein, you vere even more vonce. You vere zhe child of immigrants, ja. But you vere born zhere, und you vere beautiful. Your name vas Steven Jason Garrick, and you vere zhe Aryan ideal, but you still fought to protect zhose zhat should have been beneath you! To destroy the credibility of what you represent, I had to put you on zheir level."

"Tell me what you did, Thawne!" Sarge demanded of him.

"I couldn't change Joseph Garrick, ozhervise, your sperm vould never come to be. But I could change vhere it vent. In 1908, I transported your father from Dublin to Mexico City. He was panicked at first, but in time, he adapted, und fell in love vizh a local frau named Sara Rogelios. In 1916, she became your new mozher! Remember every time you faced a dirty look from a vhite man? Remember every struggle you faced in America, growing up in a vorld zhat you did not fit into? Remember every time you looked into a mirror and you knew somezhing vas wrong vizh zhe face zhat stared back at you? IT VAS ME GARRICK, I MADE YOU MEXICAN!" Thawne burst out in insane maniacal laughter, feeling as if he revealed the most shocking, devastating reveal one could ever tell a person.

Esteban was in stunned silence. This was the most insane piece of information you could ever tell a person. He briefly wanted to doubt Thawne and question all of what he just, but it was so insane to explain in detail how he did it, that there was no way he could make that up on the spot.

How does one process the thought of a time traveling Nazi who has an extreme hatred of you for no real reason, and then have their magnum opus be that they traveled back in time to take away your whiteness? He was completely at this lunatic's mercy, and that's what he ended up doing? I suppose to a Nazi, that would be the absolute worst thing you could do to a man. But the whole time, Sarge was more bothered by the idea that he had no control over something like that happening to him. If someone as powerful as Thawne existed in his life, could he really have any agency over his existence? He was absolutely befuddled.

"You vere America's Perfect Son, und you used your influence to guide zhe people of zhe vorld to be better. Zhe Lightning American symbolized vhat zhe country had zhe potential to become if zhey abandoned zheir hatred for vone another, und embraced your ideals of honor, bravery und all zhat shiza."

"I can still be that for the future. No change of my skin is going to impact the content of my character." Esteban asserted. He was doing what he could to take some agency back over his life.

"How naive, Sergeant. You vere an optimist before as vell, but you could back it up vizh results zhen too," Thawne added. "Zhe vorld has alvays hated und feared anyzhing even slightly different from zhem. Despite all your gifts, despite all your service, zhere vill alvays be somevone who looks down upon you. The only true symbols are zhose zhat are understood and respected by all. You are nozhing now but a speedy little soldat."

He reached inside his suit and retrieved a photograph. He presented it to Sarge to reveal a hero in a very similar costume to his. The military uniform base, a large lightning bolt across the chest, even wings on the helmet. But the most striking difference was that the man beneath the helmet was a white man with blonde hair and blue eyes. This was the Lightning American, the man Sergeant Speed used to be. "Look upon your former self und despair!"

Sarge looked upon his old face. It made him resentful, thinking of the life he used to have. He didn't resent the life he had now, but rather that someone had the gall to change it to this. His shock and awe had evolved into anger and a thirst for vengeance.

Thawne laughed, satisfied in believing he broke Esteban's resolve. "Anyvay, I'm going to blow up millions of people now. Auf wiedersehen!"

Sarge had begun vibrating his whole body rapidly, generating a large amount of air pressure underneath the Doughboy remains trapping him. And suddenly, without warning, sent a powerful thrust of force straight towards Thawne. He was so caught up in his own gloating, that when the glob of the dough flung off the mass trapping Sarge, it struck Red Blitzkrieg and glommed its way onto him. He then fell backward into another pile of the remains. Thawne was trapped in the pile of high-carb goo.

With a portion of the slime restraining Sarge gone, he was able to grab his helmet from his head. He began spinning it very fast on his finger, and used the thin brim as a makeshift saw blade to cut himself out from the remains. He looked down at the dumbstruck Thawne after he fell victim to such a blunder. To be cautious, he then threw even more of the stuff on top of Red Blitzkrieg to make sure he definitely couldn't get out of there. "We still have a lot to discuss, Blitz. But I have more to do. Whether I be a Sergeant or Lieutenant, I still do my duty. Adios" Just like, Esteban had left the room to return to the main hall to check on the rest of the MSA.

Thawne looked back at the warheads and grinned, "Ah, you did good, Johann. I am so close to breaking him." He then began to vibrate his body to phase through the dough. Given the material's density and plasticity, it wouldn't be as easy as phasing through concrete. He'd snap back into place like a rubber band if he didn't pass all the way through. So, he needed to be very focused and persistent for a while. Luckily, with Hydra's trump card, he had more than enough time.

Chapter 24: Out of Time

"Nobody knew that much about the Star Centurion. He was a brilliant man who looked at everything around him with such wonder. He told the Society he was a hero from the future who had come to stop Kang Degaton from disrupting the past more than he already did.

Degaton's Spear of Destiny created a field around Europe that prevented any superpowered people from getting in lest they fall under his control. A lot of innocent people died before we had the chance to intervene. His Tachyon Rod was the X-Factor the team needed to enter the war; it had the power to dispel that field. Thanks to him, the Society was able to go overseas in '43. He was even able to free Mother Shade from Degaton's control and we could use her as our double agent. Without him, the Society probably would have lost the War, and you'd be speaking German," regaled Esteban Garrick, lying on a therapist's couch in an office in Fawcett City, Ohio.

Sarge was having his weekly therapy session with "Doc" Dudley Samson, or as Billy Banner affectionately referred to him, "Uncle Gamma". He was the green Captain's psychiatrist turned eventual legal guardian. The doctor was there to help Billy cope with the divinely powered alternative identity, and eventually help the two sides of SHAHULK become one in the same. And if Samson could help Banner, he could definitely help the Sergeant through his grief and existential enough, Dudley wasn't even a real doctor, let alone a licensed therapist. Despite this, he was still the go-to guy for superheroes in need of some sage wisdom and psychological help.

Since the death of the Fatal Compass, Sarge had been seeing Samson. The loss of Erik weighed heavily on the speedster's mind, and it brought back a lot of bad memories from the war. Samson diagnosed him with PTSD, and over time, he was helping Sarge work through it by going into detail about everything he went through during his time.

"I'm sorry Esteban, can we back up a few?" Samson asked, still a bit bewildered by what he was told just five minutes ago. "Are you sure that you don't want to talk about the fact that a time-traveling Nazi altered history to change your race? I feel like that's a bit more important."

Dudley Samson exuded a folksy charm. He was a large, plump man in his late sixties. His face had kind eyes, a round nose, and an infectious smile. His hair was thinning, but what was there was dyed a bright green, and he had a distinct lightning bolt shaped scar down across his left eye. He wore a red shirt with a similar symbol on it to match with a large, ill-fitting, lab coat over it. It almost looked like a cape, perhaps to match his adopted "nephew."

"There's not much to say about that, Doc. I was raised to remember that your actions matter far more than whatever color you are," postured the Sergeant in his old-fashioned, righteous tone. "What Thawne did with that was his twisted, racist idea of what he thought would torture me. He failed. I'm still a good man, and that's what matters."

Dudley took in what Sarge said and then took a few notes, "Okay, okay. We'll circle back to that, okay?" Esteban Garrick seemed to mask a lot of his personal shortcomings by a sense of bravado. "Anyway, you were talking about the Star Centurion's clash with Kang Degaton. Continue, Sergeant."

Esteban nodded and continued reciting his exploit, "Even though he was from a world far beyond our own, he treated his fellow soldiers with a deep familiarity. It was as if he knew us already. He knew the punchlines to all our jokes before we even started them. He could anticipate our actions as if we were wholly predictable. Logan and I used to butt heads over who was really in charge. But I think deep down, Logan knew that he'd been calling the shots behind the scenes the whole time. But after I finished my first fight with Thawne, I saw a much different side of him that day."

When I ran back into the main hall, the two future men flew around the room like shooting stars. They threw each other against the stone walls so hard, the bricks crumbled like drywall. They were operating on a level far beyond my understanding. It was like watching primal forces of the universe fight for control over reality itself. But most importantly, I could tell that the Centurion was pissed.

When the Spear and the Rod clashed, their energies collided to create miniature novas. I could watch it all in slow motion, it was almost beautiful. I was snapped out of awe for what felt like minutes when Diana shook me back to my senses and brought me back down to normal speed. I saw the Hawks were grounded, Rex was an old man, and I couldn't find the Lantern anywhere. That day was just constant chaos and fighting, nothing felt real anymore. Thawne's reveal still had me reeling at that point, but I pushed it to the back of my mind for the sake of the mission.

The mission meanwhile, kept getting more and more complicated. Remember Bio-Wave, the little man with the huge head? Well that head let him do things. It let him control organic matter with his mind. We'd fought his genetically engineered monsters since Brussels, coincidentally, the monsters he sent there were made of brussel sprouts. But Arnim King had a secret weapon buried beneath the castle, just in case the rest of the Hydras went down, and in dire straits, he let it loose.

The shaking in the floor felt like a ticking clock to me. But the thing that came out had hands which were a lot less rhythmic. A massive, green, vegetation-covered arm burst through the floor. It clawed its way up from beneath and pulled the rest of a monstrous body through the stone. What emerged looked like a gross amalgamation of a swamp monster and a zombie. The beast was huge, even bigger than Captain Gamma. It was covered head to toe in reeds, vines, and other swamp plants, but you could tell it used to be a man. It wore a white shirt, black jacket, and pants held up by a rope. All of what it wore was soaked and tattered, it smelled of decay and rot. I couldn't tell you if it was even alive, but beneath all the weeds were a pair of soulless, red eyes.

The monster roared at us, it was a horrifying sound. It lumbered towards me, Diana, and Fate and began swinging violently. We were all easily able to get out of the way, but anywhere it touched, the surrounding area began to melt, even the stone. The creature secreted some kind of intensely corrosive acid. None of us wanted to get near it.

"What is this strange man…thing?" Diana asked as she side-stepped another heavy slam of the monster's fist. She tried to blast the thing with fire, but it was too saturated with water to be burned.

"I think this is one of Alan's foes from Goth's Kitchen, one of his toughest. He called this one "Swamp Man Grundy," I answered as I tried to throw my helmet at it to gain its attention. But instead, it got lodged in Grundy's vines.

"Come on Fate, this guy's magic, you've gotta know something about him!" Diana called out to the Fatal Compass.

Swamp Man Grundy was in a frenzy, slamming its mighty fists down on Fate, the sorcerer barely repelling its blows by use of a mystic, golden forcefield. "Grundy is a creature born of science and magic. It has strong empathic abilities, and the levels of aggression and fear in this castle are causing the beast great pain," the Lord of Order explained as he remained wholly on the defensive. Nabu took great effort in suppressing Erik's emotions for the time being. If they were to surface, the monster could grow even more enraged. "But there is another force present within. Bio-Wave is manipulating the creature's essence from afar. If we find and disable him, we have a hope of calming the beast down."

"Alan doesn't feel emotions the same way we do, that's how he's been able to fight Grundy before. He can handle it afterward," I strategized as I still had a thousand other thoughts racing through my head. Every single thing that kept happening that day just added to the chaos in my mind. I just kept doing my best to be what my team needed.

Diana bought us some time. She realized that if the thing was full of swamp water, she could freeze it. But just like the rest of us, she was running on fumes and couldn't hold it up for long. I remember how tired all of us were, and how the fights just kept coming and coming. Not just that day, but the entire invasion of Europe. We saved a lot of lives, but we saw just as much death. We were just clinging to the steam we had left just to get to the light at the end of the tunnel.

We used Diana's stalling to regroup. Rex joined us, I knew war aged you, but that was ridiculous. Ororo quickly ran towards us with Logan propped on her shoulder. With their flight devices disabled, Stormbird simply cast aside her cape wings to alleviate the dead weight, but Wolfhawk's wings were a part of his body. He had bones in those metal wings, and without the antigravity, he could barely move, nor retract them into his back. But all of them were still prepared to fight for their comrades, and they looked to me for leadership.

Alan and the Centurion were off handling their respective threats, so I threw together my last on the fly battle plan with my old team. It wasn't my best, but I'll never forget it.

"We have three primary points of focus: Wizard, Bio-Wave, and Grundy. Wonder Crystal, 60 Minutes, and I will stall the wet salad as long as we can. Stormbird, find Alan and get him over here so he can contain it. Wolfhawk, you're going to get Bio-Wave," I instructed quickly. I didn't have a lot of time to think.

"Sarge, how the hell am I supposed to get up to King's perch with my wings like this?" Logan asked, struggling to lift his wings even a few feet off the ground.

"I'll handle that, but you must be able to find him once you're up there," Fate chimed in as he raised his hand to start a spell. His hand crackled with a magnetic field as the weight of Logan's metal wings lightened.

Logan sniffed, getting a smell for Arnim King's scent, "Trust me Nabu, I'm the best at what I do, and what I do to him won't be very nice. I'll get him," he all but guaranteed.

"Fair enough, after that, I need Fate to assist our other heavy hitters. Alan may need your help," I continued as I looked over at Diana, straining to keep Grundy contained. "Rex, do you have any juice left?"

"Kang aged me ten years, but at least as far my body's concerned, it's a new day, and I have another hour," Rex answered as he reached into his belt, grabbed another pill, popped it in his mouth and was reinvigorated with strength. He flipped his hourglass again to restart his timer.

Diana finally lost her control over freezing the swamp monster and staggered back. She looked at her hands and I saw some frostbite on her fingertips. She always gave more than she could give, she still does. I still worry about her sometimes.

Rex threw a super powerful punch and sent the monster back about ten feet. Grundy charged towards all of us again and called for everyone to split up. I dashed towards Diana and picked her up to get her out of the way.

I saw Ororo and Logan share a brief kiss and a few quick words before Fate magnetically picked him up and threw him like a fastball straight towards the inside balcony where Bio-Wave was last seen. I'm not sure what exactly went on in there, but I could hear the sound of scraping metal across concrete.

Once I got Diana away from the fray for a moment, I took it as a chance to briefly talk. "You alright, mi hermana?"

Diana let out a heavy sigh, "I'm tired, Hermes. I think my time away from the island is starting to hit me. I'm finally aging. Slowly, but surely." It was true, she went from looking twenty-five to looking twenty-six.

"You're not going to go back home right after the war, aren't you?" I asked, worried about only one thing for a moment.

"Great Hera, no! I'd never give my family the satisfaction of being right," Diana replied with her crystalline smile. That damn smile, she knew how much power it could have over a person. It immediately put you at ease, even when she wasn't. She knew that too, and always knew when to use it. "Besides, I could never leave you behind."

"Same here, Diana. Now, let's bring this can of spinach down, vámanos!" I responded before we both charged back in to fight Grundy.

"You talk about Diana quite frequently in these sessions, Esteban. Why do you think that is?" Doc Samson asked as he kept writing things down. Most of it was his analysis of Sarge's psyche, but there were also a few notes documenting the story itself he told. He loved being a superhero therapist because he found the stories they'd tell him absolutely riveting.

Sarge was taken aback, he hadn't realized how much he was doing while he told the story, but realized upon being called out. "Ay, who's to say? Maybe it's because she's the one thing that didn't change in the time I was gone. I jumped seventy years, and her shining diamond smile stayed the same. Diana has been the one person I could always count on."

"Do you love her?" Dudley asked, wondering if there were any romantic feelings towards her.

Esteban gave a small smile, "Of course I do. She's the sister I never had. Mi hermana."

"Have you ever told her about the extent of what Johann Thawne did to you?" the doctor asked, trying to bring the course of the conversation back to the elephant in the room.

Sarge took a deep sigh, "No…she knows that he's done things to me, but she's never pried too much into details. She wants me to wait 'till I'm ready. I could never tell her, though."

Dudley wrote that down, "Why not? You also said you worried about her, why do you think that is?"

"She's not like us, Doc. Diana is on a level beyond us. She's a descendent of the gods, but she doesn't act like it." the Sergeant let out a sigh. "She has so much love for everyone, but she has trouble accepting that we are finite. She understands that humans are limited, but she always wants to help us be better, even if it seems impossible. As long as she can draw a breath, she won't stop trying to help. I don't want her to waste her time on me. She's got enough on her plate already."

That remark really intrigued Dudley, he immediately began scribbling something down in his notes.

Esteban cocked an eyebrow, "Was it something I said, Doc?"

"Why do you feel that you aren't worthy of help from your loved ones?" Dudley asked in a sympathetic tone. "Why would you, of all people on this Earth, feel like you're not worth the trouble?"

That question hit Esteban like a bullet train. He had never framed his feelings like that before, but he couldn't argue the statement. He was always playing support to his teams, being a tactician, being a leader. Sergeant Speed was always one to jump on the grenade when needed. He rose to the occasion like the rising Sun. He paused to consider what made him rise, but he didn't have to think about that very long.

"I…I just think it's all bigger than me. What I want is irrelevant to what the rest of the world needs. I've fought alongside a lot of great men, women, and everything else in between; good people who sacrificed themselves to help make the world a better place. I owe it to those who aren't here to keep on running until we finally get to the finish line together."

"God, you give a good speech," Dudley muttered under his breath. He was truly in awe of being able to talk to Garrick like this. He was his childhood hero, but being able to understand the man beneath the cowl and the winged hat made it all the more tangible. "But you have to remember that you are more than what you can do for others. You are more than a symbol. You are a person, and that's enough"

Those words seemed to resonate with Sarge on some level, but he still held strong in his sense of self, or arguably lack thereof. "Right, yeah. If so many people have died so I could live, I must be worth something, right?" His voice cracked as he said that. He flung his head over the arm of the couch.

"Do you want to finally talk about those events, Sergeant? You've opened up a lot today, with what you've described to me. I think we're making some shahulking sized progress today. Let's keep the ball rolling, come on." Dudley probed, hopeful for one more big revelation.

"Well, okay Doc," Esteban said with a shudder in his breath. "If you think it'll help to keep going."

"Just keep yourself centered, Esteban. Go at your own pace," Dudley said reassuringly. "Actually, maybe not that fast. A little slower than your own pace if you can," he joked, trying to ease his apprehension.

Sarge closed his eyes, and let his mind take him back to that final hour in 1945. "Eventually, we changed our approach and were able to subdue Swamp Man Grundy. If it fed on our emotions, the best way to handle it was calming down. Diana used her Lasso of Purity to clear her mind and control her emotions so that Grundy would only feel a sense of peace coming off her. It was brilliant. She managed to keep him in place with the Lasso, weakening any hold Bio-Wave still had on him. I took a step back in case anything I was feeling would set him off. I was reeling from what Thawne told me still, and I didn't want to risk setting that thing off with my petty hang ups."

"We just have to hold here until Erik gets here with Alan. I think we did it," Diana said calmly as she gently petted the beast. Knowing how the monster functioned, she pitied it, and treated it with compassion until we could properly transport it back to the swamp they got it from.

Things were going alright, I spent a few seconds rounding up the downed Baroness and Bonechiller. Spirit of 60 Minutes disarmed them of their weapons and took Ororo's disabled Adth-Metal cape to wrap around them, the weight of it all keeping them firmly in place. I had no idea where the Masters went, but we could get them later. I was about to go get Thawne from the weapon's bay, but then the Star Centurion and Kang Degaton crashed through one of the castle walls and straight into the ground next to us.

So much stuff had happened in the past ten minutes, that I forgot that they were even a part of this. That's to show how hectic of a day that was, I forgot about the two time travelers flying around the castle with magic sticks trying to kill each other.

Diana stood back, maintaining her hold on Grundy. Rex and I ran to them on the ground. It wasn't a pretty sight. Degaton stood over the Centurion with the Spear of Destiny in hand, and the tip straight through his chest.

The three of us looked in horror at the man we fought alongside impaled like that. Ororo brandished her mace, her crackling with electricity. Rex and I put up our fists, prepared to fight Kang. The conqueror looked at us like we were nothing. We were just ants waiting to be stepped on by him. I was terrified, but I had to avenge my comrade.

"You have run out of time, Marvelous Society of America," Kang said with dismissal. "Everything you have fought for has been for naught, a cosmic inevitability in my crusade for conquest. Even your great Centurion was nothing but a crude distraction."

He picked him up by the neck and raised him into the air, his face looking towards us. "Your armor and rod indicate you are from my time period. I have often wondered who you were. Are you the son of a man I murdered, an old officer who I cast aside in my rise to power, or are you a weak, future version of myself, guilt-ridden over what we had to do to get here?" Kang tapped a button on the side of the Centurion's helmet, deactivating the holographic shimmer which covered and muddled his face to all of us, he pulled back the helmet to reveal his true identity.

As the shimmer dissipated, who we saw was a younger man with red hair, just like Kang's. Rex immediately recognized the man before us, "Wait a minute, Ted Timely? He's the Star Centurion?!" he asked incredulously. "Oh god, that makes so much sense. This is the guy that helped me invent my miracle pills!"

"Timely, he was there in Erskine's lab the day I had the accident which gave me my speed," I added, piecing everything together.

"Hold on, that man was with Logan and I during our expedition in Egypt. Without him, we would never have found the temple which held the secrets of our past lives." Stormbird called out as she came back and brought Fate and Lantern towards the group.

"And without the Star Centurion, you never would have found the remains of the camp that Erik destroyed when he received the Helm of Nabu," the Fatal Compass explained as he floated into the room with the Human Lantern behind him.

The Human Lantern had the Wizard restrained in shackles made of his hard light constructs. He was back in his normal appearance, without the emerald light enveloping his whole body. He looked at Ted Timely suspended in the air, "Theodore Timely was the co-inventor of the Horton Cells which make up my body. He helped create me, he helped create all of us."

"Surprise. Sorry for the deception, but if I was going to defeat Degaton, I was going to need all the help I could get. Also, this…really hurts. So can we move this along?"

This whole time, Degaton was in stunned silence. It wasn't that he cared that much that Ted Timely, unbeknownst to them, created the MSA. But Kang recognized Ted in a different way. He saw his eyes, his own eyes in Ted. He could come up with two possible conclusions. He asked the one which scared him less, "Are you my descendant, boy? Did I kill my own son?" The conqueror sounded terrified, but not guilty.

"Nope…guess again," Ted said as he coughed up blood. "I didn't want it to go this way, but I was prepared for the worst. I'm not your son, Kang. I'm you, twenty years before your empire began."

The castle was full of gasps. Everyone was awash in shock, awe, and absolute confusion. This was the 1940s, there weren't any movies out to explain how time travel worked yet! Nobody understood what past and future selves and branching timelines meant! But we found out what that meant pretty quickly.

Kang dropped the Spear on the ground, and Ted with it. "No, this can't be! I can't be slain by my hand! I just have to go back in time to stop myself from killing myself," he kept rambling on about using a paradox to prevent himself from disappearing. He was about to start fiddling with a device on his wrist to execute a last ditch plan, but Fate just cast a spell which destroyed the device on his arm, "Temporal anomaly has been eliminated. Order shall be restored," the sorcerer said grimly as Kang panicked. After that, Kang's body began to spasm and fade in and out of reality. We didn't understand it then, but it was a grizzly sight to watch.

Ted managed to stand one more time, he propped himself up with his Tachyon Rod. "An older version of you once went back in time to show me what I would become. You were the master of the universe, a tyrant above all others, the greatest enacter of injustice across time and space," he said between coughs, "I was horrified of the kind of man I would become. So I made it my life's mission to make sure I'd never become you. And if I have to never become anything for that to happen, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

Kang scrambled around, trying to repair his device to escape, to save himself. "No, no please! Don't let me fade away!" He pleaded for salvation.

Rex responded to his pleas by a simple punch to the jaw. "That's fer taking my 40s."

Kang was on the ground, looking off into the distance at who knows what's on the other side for a dying paradox. He was scared, and for the people he had slaughtered, it was too good for him. "I just need more time," were his last words before he and the Spear disappeared from existence.

Ted, or young Kang, fell to the ground as he was slowly fading. Not from reality or anything fancy like that, he was just fading. A stab to the chest will do that, even to a future boy.

"Come on, Fate, we gotta save him! He's one of us!" I ordered to Fatal Compass.

"No, if Kang Degaton is to remain dead, his past self must perish for the timeline to be restored. Order must be restored to the universe, and he can no longer remain for that to happen." Fate answered coldly. You could tell that was just Nabu talking. Erik liked the Star Centurion, Ted was good to the kid. There was no emotion there, just duty.

We didn't entirely understand the scenario, but we accepted that this was Ted's heroic sacrifice. He created us, brought us together, made us his friends, just so we could watch him die. All of that time travel stuff made me feel so small. They controlled the story of the world, and I was just along for the ride. That'd make anybody feel helpless.

We were all gathered around Ted as we had to let him succumb to his wounds. Diana still had to stand back. She couldn't let herself feel grief or else Grundy would go off again. But the five of us sat with him until he passed. He said some stuff about how much fighting alongside us meant to him, how the past was such a "romantic" experience for him. I don't remember his final words, I was just so engrossed, thinking about all of that power. And just like that, he was gone, out of time.

Chapter 25: Cut Off One Head

We all just stood there in complete shock of what we just saw. Ted was our friend, but learning about how everything he did this for was to stop himself, including making us, I just couldn't wrap my head about it. I suppose it's my fault to try and understand quantum physics. It all just made me feel like I was just a pawn in his game.

"So, what happens now, Sarge?" Stormbird asked me as she readily twirled her mace in her hand.

"Well, Diana can get up to the balcony and get Logan down. I don't hear the scraping anymore, so I think he's finished doing whatever he was to Arnim. Alan can take over for holding Grundy. God, I can't imagine how Diana's been holding up, burying her emotions like that. Then we can just wait for the troops to come in and pick up the rest of the Heads. Then I guess we go home." I answered with a bit of uncertainty. It didn't feel easy, just a little too clean. We all faced our guys, they were defeated, and we stopped the bombs. The cost was losing a friend, but only one. It felt…orchestrated. I'm sure if that's the term, but that's how it felt.

I looked over at the Fatal Compass, he was just staring at Human Lantern with those creepy glowing eyes from his helmet. I'm not sure what Nabu thought of the whole situation, maybe he knew that Ted was a young Kang the whole time. Now that was a guy who didn't care to divulge much. But in hindsight, my guess was he was just pleased that two of the people who weren't supposed to be there at that time period were gone. For the most part, order was restored.

I wondered when he was finally going to let Erik take control back. Erik and Ted weren't exactly close, but the kid probably would've missed him. Erik was closer to Alan, though. The Human Lantern was the one who killed Hitler. He just absolutely vaporized the guy. I'm not going to get into details on how it went down, but Alan was the one to give Erik his vengeance, a sense of peace over the atrocity he experienced. That's what made what happened next even more tragic.

Wizard had managed to hack his way through Alan's binding constructs. He found the Tachyon Rod on the ground and used his technopathy to trigger it. He fired it remotely at Alan's hand and blew the hand with his ring clean off. Without his concentration holding the bindings, he escaped. I saw it, and immediately tried to rush in and tackle him. But he summoned his wand to his hand and fired it right towards Alan. I tried to change direction and take the blast for him, but right as I got to him, the beam of energy ripped right through the android's torso.

Without his ring, he had no defense against the Wizard's power. Alan looked at me, I was mortified to see the chest cavity which held the magic Lantern which powered his body dimmed and darkened, and the torso itself was mangled beyond repair. His expression remained unchanged. All he said was an abrupt, "What?" It was like he couldn't comprehend his own death, and then the light faded from his eyes. All of his systems just shut down at once, and his metal body fell to pieces on the ground. He was nothing but scrap.

Wizard looked at all of us with shock and awe, "Hell of a trick, I made him disappear!" he said sadistically. "Anyway, so should I! Thank you, and goodnight!" He made a break from us towards some secret corridor in the castle. That time I was fast enough.

Human Lantern was my friend. His robotic quirks took some getting used to. But he was just as human as the rest of us, even if he didn't show it. The lantern in his chest may as well have been a bleeding heart. Part of me thinks he killed Hitler because he didn't want that kind of execution on Erik's conscience.

When we were handling things stateside, a lot of our job was promoting patriotism and all that so people bought war bonds. Alan, Diana, and I were the faces of the movement. They called us the "All-Winners Cavalcade." Doing those corny shows together was when we really bonded as friends. The United States needed our flashy costumes to give people hope that because we were on their side, we were going to make everything okay. Alan was a literal beacon of hope for the American people. And the Wizard snuffed it out.

We were all still reeling from everything else. I crushed all of the Wizard's remaining tech on his body with my bare hands. I was firing on all cylinders, filled with every emotion at once. Rex and Ororo scrambled to try and take Alan's pieces and put him back together. But without the Lantern itself, he was just an overgrown tinker toy.

"Guys, what's happening? Is everyone okay?" Diana called out from across the room. She couldn't actually see any of what just happened. But she was afraid for her friends' safety. Her pure peaceful resolve was beginning to crack, and by proxy, so was her hold on Grundy.

Then Erik finally snapped out from Nabu's trance. The faceplate of the helmet opened up so we could see that poor kid's eyes. He tried doing everything he could to fix Alan. He tried using his magnesis to fuse his body back together, and had Ororo send some lightning through the body to power him up, but to no avail.

I watched as Erik started yelling at himself, or more accurately, at Nabu. "Come on, we have to save him!"

"There is nothing I can do for him in this state," I heard the helmet respond.

"But there could have been something you could've done to save him. You saw his fate!"

"This was Alan Hammond's fate. He was destined to fall. His technology could not persist in the 20th century. Chaos would ensue with such a divergence from the timeline! We cannot interfere with the natural Order, boy!"

"Oh, stuff it! You knew, and you did nothing! He was good, he helped bring your damn Order! Alan was my friend, and you failed him!"

Swamp Man Grundy could feel Erik's rage, sorrow, guilt, all of it. It was in intense, agonizing pain as it felt all of our emotions at once. It seemed to grow larger and stronger. Diana was barely holding on to him, shifting into her Terrigen form to get some extra strength, and resistance to acid if she failed.

"Hey, hold on! Let's be factual here. I killed that stupid green toaster!" The Wizard bragged while I had him restrained in my arms. "Damn proud of it, too. I murdered that hack, Horton's legacy, and I can die a happy man because of it!"

That comment sent me over the edge. In a moment of weakness, I threw him to the ground, hard. His face scraped against the stone. I didn't have it in me to be the leader, the voice of reason, anymore.

Erik left Alan's body and approached Wizard on the floor. He used his magnesis to hoist Wizard into the air by the metal bits on his body. "You killed the man who avenged my family. You killed one of the world's greatest heroes. But most importantly, you killed my friend. And for that, you will not 'die a happy man', Bentley Williams." He began strangling the Wizard by constricting his collar by the buttons.

Rex wanted to step in and try and coax Erik out of doing whatever he was going to do, but Ororo held him back. "Let him take his revenge, or he will live his life starving for it."

"This isn't what Alan would've wanted," Rex argued. "He's just a kid."

"He's not here to want anything anymore," Ororo responded, "And Erik is anything but a kid anymore. Let him have his justice."

"They call you the Wizard," Erik said as his victim writhed in pain. Tears were streaming from Erik's eyes as he stared Alan's killer in the face. "Well, how about one of my tricks?!" Magic swirled around Erik's hands as the Wizard's body began to twist and contort.

I could hear his bones cracking and gurgled screams from him. But I could also hear Erik sobbing throughout the whole thing. The poor kid had gone through too much already. The Society was so wrong to let him fight alongside us.

Erik's spell concluded with the Wizard's body grossly transmuted into what looked like a magic wand. It seemed the kid had a sense of irony. I think he was still alive, but he was just a stick now. It was honestly a little horrifying. But that spell took a lot out of him. He fell to his knees, absolutely drained physically and emotionally, and promptly passed out.

All of that was finally enough for Grundy to finally burst free from Diana's bindings. I saw her try to fight back against him, but she was backhanded and sent flying across the room. She hit the wall behind us, a Diana shaped hole left within it, as she fell out of the wall, onto the floor.

I ran to Diana to check on her. I wanted to run in and out to get everyone out of the castle so the swamp monster could tire itself out. But I saw that Grundy had a clear target. It wanted to kill the source of all the negative emotions that plagued its soul. It was going to kill Erik.

It feels so weird for me to say this, but it all happened so fast. I took off my hat and rushed up in front of Grundy. The monster slammed its fist down on me, and I held it out like a shield to try and hold back his assault. My helmet sustained the first blow, I was adamant on doing whatever it took to protect the kid. I was aflame with righteous fury with everything I'd just experienced, but I was not afraid of that beast just because it was stronger than me. However, it was still stronger than me. I was picked up by Swamp Man Grundy and thrown aside like a ragdoll. I hit the wall, and I got trapped under some debris that fell on me after.

Rex was the next to try and protect Erik. He threw another superpowered punch towards it, but Grundy caught it in its own swampy hand, the acid it excreted burned Rex's arm severely before casting him aside. It trudged past the both of us. It was all down to Stormbird to protect the boy.

Poor Erik lay collapsed on the ground as Ororo tried comforting him. She wrapped his cape tighter around him, and held Erik closer to her. At this point, the helmet's faceplate had closed back up, I assume for his protection. She believed what he did was necessary for closure's sake. Both of the Hawks wanted Erik to stick with us. For Logan, it was because he knew Nabu from their first life, but Ororo saw the kid as someone who needed to let out a lot of anger. She wanted to help Erik cope in a way she thought was healthy. I never agreed with her on that, but I always respected her conviction.

When Swamp Man Grundy charged towards the kid. Stormbird stood firm in the way, her mace readied and crackling with lightning.

"I am Ororo Sanders-Hall, Priestess of the Elements, and you will not tough a hair on this boy's head! I swear it!" I heard her proclaim proudly as Grundy slammed its giant fists down on her. She thrust her mace out and jammed it right into his face. She unleashed one final blast of lightning into the swamp monster's soaked body as the whole thing lit up like a Christmas Tree.

But January came early that Christmas, and the lightning dissipated. Swamp Man Grundy had taken hold of Stormbird's body. She showed no fear against the monster, but she was terrified to face it, and even that underlying fear was enough for the beast to secrete its acid and corrode her body until she died. I can only imagine the agony she felt in those final there stood that goddamn monster, charred, but still alive, and ready to hurt the kid.

Erik was standing up now, but it was Nabu who was at the helm, so to speak. He was just standing there, looking up at Grundy blankly. It'd seemed that with Erik's mind shunted into the background, Grundy no longer had his reason to attack. So Stormbird died for nothing, just like the Human Lantern.

I remember looking up to the terrace to see Logan finally showing himself. It seemed with the Wizard neutralized, his "spells" over the Hawks' wings finally went down. He could finally move a lot easier with his wings no longer weighing him down. He sniffed the air, he could smell the acid burnt corpse.

"No…no…NO!" Logan snarled as he took flight and swooped down towards the befuddled Grundy. His aggression restarted the swamp monster's rampage as the two traded blows. Logan began shouting a series of obscenities I'd rather not repeat. I don't blame him, I was just thrown further into shock at watching another death of a close friend. Another death that couldn't do anything to prevent.

Grundy's acid was violently eating away at Wolfhawk's skin, but his healing factor kept regenerating it. The monster let out its gurgling roar as it kept trying to tear Logan apart, but he was going too berserk for anything it did to even phase him. Grundy had just murdered his one true love, and the creature was going to pay for that. Not just from the pain of being sliced apart by Adth-Metal claws, but the empath would be forced to feel Logan's grief. All I could hear was the blood curdling screams of both of them as they endured the worst pain imaginable.

After a few minutes of very violent action, the floor was covered in slimy, shredded vegetation. Under all of the sludge and vines, I could see the human corpse inside it. Alan probably could have told us who it was.

We all looked down to see both of the Hawks' bodies on the ground. They were both horribly disfigured. All that made Ororo recognizable now were her helmet and her white hair which was bleached even further. Logan's was a bit more distinct due to his wings and general build.

I ran over to the two of them to check on them. Logan didn't stay dead for very long though. His body began rapidly healing from all the damage it sustained. Within a minute, he was back to his full self. I looked over at Ororo's body, waiting for something to happen. "When will she come back?" I asked.

Logan remained silent as he sat up and moved to cradle his wife's body in his arms. If he was crying, I couldn't tell due to his mask.

"Priestess Chay-Oro is not immortal in the same way as Prince Khufu is, Sergeant," Nabu explained to me. "Her soul reincarnates into a new body upon her death, but his soul never leaves. His soul never leaves, he is cursed to be everlasting until he reaches his final Fate."

So for all intents and purposes, Stormbird was dead dead. I never fully understood the whole reincarnated lovers thing. Logan never really got into it, and Ororo never fully understood it. It made me wonder how many times he's had to mourn the loss of his wife, while he had to keep on living with the guilt and grief. Just how many loved ones did he have to bury?

"She'll be back in her next life, Logan. Give it a few decades, and you two shall be together again. What's that for an immortal?" Fate began to say as he moved closer to Logan.

Logan was distraught, he seemed to understand what Nabu was saying, but that wouldn't assuage the pain he was feeling then and there. "Why didn't you stop it, Nabu?" He never looked up from her burned body.

"I could not. My powers have limitations. Only your Adth-Metal weapons combined with your berserker rage had the capabilities to rend Swamp Man Grundy apart, as they disrupted the mystical bondings which held his body together. Stormbird tried her best to do this, but she unfortunately fell in battle. This version of her will be remembered fondly for her sacrifice to protect my host. This was her Fate."

"Yer a rat bastard, you know that?" Logan said with absolute heartbreak in his voice.

"Yes, but a necessary one," Fate responded dryly.

Rex pulled me out from under the debris and we all convened around the bodies of the friends we lost. I took off my helmet in respect for them, Rex pulled back his hood, and Logan his own helmet.

Diana finally got up from being slammed around and she looked around to finally see that Ted, Alan, and Ororo were dead. She looked at Logan, she saw how completely disheveled he had become, and she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The two seldom got along, but that didn't matter.

"I hate to spoil the moment, but we still have a job to do. Logan, did you get Bio-Wave up there?" I asked, just waiting for the day to be over.

Logan stared at me, or more accurately, stared through me. "Yeah, King's dead. I threw him into a bunch of machines he had up there, and they all sparked up and fried him." He explained in complete monotone.

I looked over at Mahkent and Von Strucker, locked down in Stormbird's wings, and then back towards the corridor I entered the room from after leaving Thawne behind. I began rattling off a plan to transport the prisoners back to friendly territory as I tried getting my mind back into the work. I had to be useful, and let myself grieve later. Then I got hit in the face.

Red Blitz had returned to the room, some residue from Arnim King's dough creatures still caked on his black and red suit. He had a dastardly grin plastered across his mangled face. "Oh boo-hoo, how tragic to see zhe little birdie chirp its last." He cackled as he looked around the room, seeing our fallen friends.

"I hate to spoil your mourning, but it matters little, as you vill joining zhem very soon," Thawne said with a ghoulish snicker.

"Begone from this time, Harbinger of Anomaly!" the Fatal Compass called out as he summoned mystical chains from portals from his hands that careened towards the Nazi bastard. They wrapped and locked around Thawne, but he just slipped out of them in half a second. He was just too fast for any of Fate's magic to hold him.

"How cute, zhe little Juden kinder under zhe zhumb of und Egyptian master. I can't help but appreciate zhe patterns of history repeating zhemselves," Thawne commented with glee in his voice.

Red Blitz then ran straight towards Fate to attack him, but I dashed right in between them to catch Thawne's fist. "It's over, Blitz. Your men are down, your monsters are destroyed, and your bombs are disarmed. And you can't take all…five of us. Surrender."

"Vell, you make un compelling point, but…nein!" Thawne yelled as he grabbed me, spun me around like a tornado, and flung me into the wall. There were a lot of people-shaped indents made in that wall over the course of two hours. "It's cute how you zhink zhat any of you can keep up vizh me. You thought you could catch up, but I vas only humoring your futile efforts! You always vere zhe slowest of all zhe speedsters."

Wolfhawk set his wife's body down and popped his claws, he was absolutely done with Thawne's crap. "Alright, bub. You have our attention, what do you want?!" He was still out for blood at this point.

"Not much," Thawne answered simply, "I just vanted to see you give up hope."

"What have you done, you fiend?" Diana asked as she readied her Lasso.

"Oh, liebchen, I so vish I could have had an opportunity vizh you. Maybe after the nuke blows up America, I'll run back a few years and have you zhen."

"What nuke, we destroyed them all!" Rex proclaimed as he cracked his knuckles.

"How long do you zhink Bio-Wave's monsters' remains truly held me? Zhey vere sticky, but everyzhing can be phased zhrough if you resonate at zhe right frequency. After zhat, all of zhe components remained of zhe missiles. All I needed vas time to reassemble vone. Und I have all zhe time in zhe vorld. After zhat, it vas a matter of launching. It's headed tovards your precious Vashington D.C., it should be past Paris by now." Thawne explained everything with sick glee. "Anyvay, I'm going to New York so I can vatch all zhe little Americans die! Auf wiedersehen! Dummkopfs!" And just like that, he ran away.

That whole exchange threw me into total panic. The weight of millions of lives felt like it was crushing down on me. We failed, I couldn't save them. He was just playing with us so we could have hope for a better world, only for him to pull the rug out from under us. We were all just insignificant pawns to everyone involved in what we fought, killed, and died for. The fear of what was to happen next made me completely freeze up. It's like I was stuck inside a bottle, and time was in there with me.

"So that was your first panic attack," Samson interrupted the story to note. The panic attacks were what caused Esteban to seek therapy in the first place. "It came upon you in a time of total helplessness, and a lack of any agency over your life. How long did that one last?" He asked as he wrote it down.

To me, that one felt like an hour. I was just standing there, frozen in the moment. In reality, it was about five seconds, and then the Fatal Compass appeared right in front of me, snapping me out of my stupor.

"Sergeant Garrick, you must go after Red Blitzkrieg and stop the missile," he told me in an authoritative voice.

"How? I'm nowhere near as fast as him! And even if I did catch him, what about the bomb?" I responded frantically.

Fate's hands flared with golden magic, he magnetically called the Tachyon Rod to his hand, and he blasted the chronal energy from it between his hands into a spell he began to weave. "This spell is rather hasty, but time is literally of the essence."

"What are you doing, Nabu?" Wolfhawk called out as he approached us.

"If the Sergeant is going to restore the timeline to order, he is going to need access to the force which Thawne draws his power from: the Speed Force." Fate answered as he continued fabricating some kind of energy matrix within his hands with a series of gestures.

"There's a force for speed?" I ask, still confused over what was happening.

"By connecting you to the Speed Force, you will be able to open a rift inside of it. It is a realm where time and space function independent of ours. The missile can be sent to a place and time where it will not harm the flow of history. You also have to bring Thawne in there with you and trap him there."

"What? I don't know how to do that!" I protested.

"It's all very intuitive, you'll figure it out. You'll have to." Fate said as he finished his spell and pressed his hand against my chest. I could feel that pure speed flowing through my body. It was the first time I could feel my body fully catch up to how fast my mind could go. It was exhilarating, but I didn't have time to feel it out.

"And if I fail to stop him, what then?" I ask.

"Your fate does not lie here, your duty lies beyond," Fate responded cryptically. I assume that meant he knew I'd succeed. But he didn't really explain how I'd get back.

Diana ran up and hugged me as tight as she ever had. All of the death she witnessed shook her to her core. I don't think she'd ever lost people she cared about so deeply before then. "You better come back, Hermes." She ordered me with tears in her eyes.

"I'll try my best, mi hermana," I answered back. I was misty eyed too, but my goggles hid it.

Diana planted a kiss on my cheek and stepped away. "Go get him."

Rex scoffed at the sight, "I ain't kissing ya."

"Go, there is not much time!" Fate ordered sharply as he cast another spell, manifesting a golden line across the ground. "Follow this, as this is your path of Fate."

I looked down at the line and took a deep breath. I looked around at my remaining friends, and I thought about those who I'd lost along the way to get here: Dr. Erskine, Bucky, Ted, Alan, Ororo; all of this was for them.

I took a runner's stance, and I shot off like a rocket, running faster than I ever had before. I could feel electricity generating around me with all the static build-up. My lungs were burning as I pushed myself to my absolute limit. I followed the golden line out the castle, down the roads of Germany, and before I knew it, I was running on the Atlantic Ocean. I knew I could run on water before, but I'd always been too scared to try. It would've felt freeing had I not been so terrified.

I remember Thawne looking behind himself to see me catching up to him. He was dumbfounded as I screamed and charged my shoulder into him. The missile cruised overhead, keeping pace with us.

"Nice for you to catch up, ve can vatch zhe end of your borrowed homeland togezher," he taunted me as we kept running.

I was so exhausted at that point, I couldn't give any witty remarks. I just wanted him dead. I could feel my brain telling me exactly what to do next. Maybe it was a part of Fate's spell. I knew to start vibrating my hands at a very specific frequency. Thawne told me that at the right frequency, you could pass through anything. Well, my next trick let me pass through time. I shot my hand forward, and the electricity generating around me flew off and created a crack in time and space far ahead of us. It was massive, it needed to be if it was going to be tall enough to catch the missile and Thawne on the water.

When Thawne saw the rift, he began to panic. He knew what it was, and he didn't want to go in. "You have access to the Speed Force?! Nein! You cannot send me back!" he protested as he tried to vibrate his way to phase through the oncoming rift. But I knew my physics: waves of equal frequency cancel each other out. So I grabbed Thawne's neck and vibrated my molecules the same rate he was. He was staying solid, but wherever he went, I'd have to go with him. I had to make peace that the MSA would be losing four members that day. I remember knowing I'd miss Peggy, and hoping Diana would still be around whenever I got out.

"Stopping me now vill do nozhing. My reign vill be eternal. Cut off vone head, two more grow back in its place! Und vill fall like all zhe rest, forgotten in zhe dust!" Thawne yelled at me as he tried to get in my head one last time. I didn't say a word, I just kept running as the missile flew straight through the rift, and I dragged Thawne kicking and screaming in with me.

The rest was kind of a blur. The Speed Force was like running inside a tunnel made of nothing by lightning. I'd see glimpses of different parts of time and space flashing around like a hall of mirrors. The missile ended up flying into another rift that sent it out in the middle of deep space. I watched as it exploded harmlessly in the vacuum of space. Fate's plan worked, we won.

I was stuck in there with Thawne, but he was stuck in there with me too. He tried running away, traveling through the Speed Force to escape to another time period, but I kept pace. I wanted to avenge the lives he took. When I got in front of him, I beat him senseless. I must have punched him a couple thousand times in the span of a few seconds. He pleaded for mercy, but I didn't listen to a word. Eventually, his body just kind of dissipated into the force, and I was alone

All I could do was keep running, left with nothing but my thoughts of grief, anger, mourning over the life I could have led had that monster not forced me along this path and for those who had to die purely for a madman's entertainment. I sat with those thoughts for a while. I'm not sure how long. Who knows how time worked there? Then, I popped out in the year 2016, I jumped over 70 years into the future. And well, you know the rest.

"Wow…" Dudley just sat there in complete shock. "I'm sorry, that all happened in two hours?" He was trying to get a grip on how watching so many people he cared about die in such a short period would impact a person.

"Just about, yeah," Sarge replied as he looked emotionally drained from recounting everything.

Dudley racked his thoughts to give a proper analysis, "Do you regret doing what you did?"

Esteban paused, "No, I don't. That sacrifice was one of the few times I know for sure that what I did meant something, that my life had true value."

"Do you not feel like your life has value, Esteban?" Dudley asked further.

Esteban let out a heavy sigh, "Maybe at one point, but that time has passed," he answered regretfully. "I had a purpose back then; my impact made a difference in the world."

"Esteban, do you really not feel that everything you've done for the world has meaning?" Dudley asked, shocked.

"I…well, no. Not really," Sarge answered regretfully. "I look around at what the League does for the world, and I wish I could do better. We all cover different fronts on the war for a better world. Thor and Banner take the divine threats, Orca takes the seas, Stark the technological, . Diana and I do most of our work directly with the world governments. I deal with what the average person should not be capable of, and yet somehow is. And when all's said and done, I'm the one that cleans up the mess the fastest."

"All of that sounds very important, Esteban. You do make a difference in the world for the people you protect. I heard just a few days ago, you and SHIELD finally took down the last of Hydra! Congratulations, yay!" Dudley said optimistically, trying to reassure his patient.

"Bah," Sarge scoffed, "Do you know how many times I have taken down "the last of Hydra," Doc? They're Hydra! Cut off one head, two more grow back in its place!" Esteban exploded in frustration. "There's always somebody left that we somehow missed who gets to carry on Hydra's legacy, and keep it going until little baby Johann Thawne can grow up to inherit it centuries from now!"

"You'd think seventy years after the Society took down Degaton, and I sacrificed myself to stop Thawne, the rest of the world would have been able to take care of the stragglers! But no, everything my friends fought, killed, and died for may as well have been for nothing. Their deaths were meant to secure a fair world built on truth, justice, and honor. But I see little things every day that lead me to believe it'll all just go back to being under Thawne's thumb given enough time."

"That's a bit cynical. I'd like to think that the examples of heroism you set will help guide the world towards a better tomorrow than what you think," Dudley retorted optimistically.

"Maybe Thawne changed my past the way he did so that my actions would be overlooked," Sarge pondered. While he asserted that the changing of the man he was born didn't matter to him, he knows that if he remained the "Lightning American," he may have had more influence over how the country perceived him.

"Fate told me that my destiny lies beyond. Who knows what that means? He never told me, and now he's dead!" Sarge continued with almost jealousy. "He had his great sacrifice. We'll all remember the good he did. His impact will have meant something."

Dudley cocked an eyebrow at his remark, "Esteban, do you wish to be a martyr?"

"I wish for my mark on the world to last beyond me. Thawne traveled throughout time to execute every person who would have carried on the mission, after I could've stopped. I could have passed on the torch to a new generation of speedsters, and I would know that everything I stood for would still have its place in the world after I was gone. Thawne took that away," Sarge had said with a break in his voice.

"He eradicated my legacy so the world would just be left with me. He kept me alive so I would know what could've been, to mourn for men the world will never get to remember. And the future will look at Sergeant Speed as the man who wasted his second chance. The world deserves better than me, but I'm all it's got. Why do I get to live another life? And why do I have to be haunted by what another man chose to do with it?"

The doctor stared down at his notepad and took a deep breath. "You have lived a very eventful life, Sergeant Garrick. It has been one of hardship and sacrifice, but also that of triumph and heroism. Your actions have saved the lives of millions, lives for which the world would be drastically worse off without. The world will remember you as someone who gave everything to protect the innocent, and then gave even more than that. That's a hell of a legacy even if it is just you," he assessed with a folksy smile. "You already got your place in the annals of history, probably a few chapters' worth."

Sarge paused. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his bottle of medication, "But what about these, Doc? They slow me down. They keep me from tapping into the Speed Force, the very thing Fate gave me to fulfill my purpose. I can't be the man I need to be with these."

"But without them, you can't be the man you deserve to be; at peace," Dudley countered. "I'm not sure how Beetle Man did it, but you've been a lot more present because of the meds. Not a single freeze since you've started taking them."

"I'm not as useful as I used to be," Sarge said sorrowfully, feeling like taking care of himself was like failing those he lived for.

"Esteban, you have lived for so many other people your entire life. Their sacrifices empowered you to do so many great things. I never knew the Fatal Compass, but whatever grand destiny he had in store for you, you probably already fulfilled it unknowingly. You've earned the right to be a little selfish. You have to learn to live for yourself. Figure out what kind of man Esteban Garrick is, not who he's meant to be. Let that man be your legacy, and do it while caring for your own wellbeing." Dudley advised compassionately, but firmly.

Samson's summary shocked Sarge. He had seldom thought of who he was without the fight. "What, are you suggesting I retire the hat? Give up the race and rest?"

"Do it at your own pace, Sergeant. But…the finish line is in view. You get to slow down, soon." Dudley responded, trying to keep up with the running metaphor. That was also a strange motif he realized Sarge did a lot while he was talking. He assumed it was a remnant of his time reading off corny scripts during his time selling war bonds in the 40s.

"I guess you're…" before Sarge could finish his thought, his LMI ID card started chiming. He grabbed it from his other pocket and put his pills back in their own. He pushed the button on his card to accept the transmission.

"Sergeant, we need you en route with that prisoner transport to the Iron Vault in the Rockies. Are you close, or do you need a warp?" Cyberman asked over the call.

"Everywhere is close for me, I'll be there soon," Sarge answered in a confident voice, masking the vulnerability he just spilled to Doc Samson.

"Alright, let me know if you need backup," Stark said before hanging up.

"Duty calls, same time next week?" Sarge asked with a smirk.

Dudley looked at Sarge skeptically, "Yes, but are you sure you're going to run over a thousand miles to Colorado? You can't get there that fast at your normal speed."

"True, but I time when I take my pills for after our meetings. I usually take them after we finish," Sarge explained as he got up from the couch and his body started flickering with electricity. His body was reconnected to the Speed Force, and he was much faster than he was before.

Dudley gave Sarge a look, "Esteban, remember what we discussed? You need to take care of yourself."

"I know, Doc. I'll take them once I get to Denver. I just want to clear my head with a run. I'll be responsible." Sarge assured as he looked at the clock in Samson's office tick past the second he'd usually take the pills. His extremely keen sense of timing was back. "Thanks for the head shrink, I'll see you around."

Sergeant Speed took a runner's stance, and just like that, he was gone in a flash. This left a nasty skidmark on the carpet of Samson's office though. The doctor stared down at the floor, "I'm giving Stark the bill for that," he grumbled as he cataloged his notes and put them away to prepare for his next patient. He was going to make sure his next session with Sarge would focus a bit more on Thawne time traveling to change his race, because that felt like something that warranted its own session.

Chapter 26: Two More Grow Back

Two days ago, a man in a blue parka sat alone in an empty cabin in the Aspen Highlands. It was a safehouse full of ill-gotten cash, jewels, and priceless historical artifacts. The frosted fortress was secluded from the rest of society, save for the odd skier who went off the beaten path, and then typically, was deeply persuaded back onto it. It was once home to an elite group of professional criminals/mercenaries. But now, the halls fall quiet, the silence punctuated only by the footsteps of a Captain who failed his men.

At a card table made of solid gold sat Leonard Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes. After Captain Barnes' tragic fall from a bridge in Austria during the war, his body was scavenged by Dr. Arnim King's men. Before Bio-Wave met his supposed end to Wolfhawk, he experimented on Bucky to turn him into the perfect genetically engineered assassin.

He lost an arm in the fall, so he was outfitted with an advanced cybernetic designed by the Wizard, and enhanced with a built-in cryokinetic cannon similar to Bonechiller's gauntlets. He was then mentally reprogrammed to perform Hydra's most important assassinations as they hid in the shadows for decades as they rebuilt their empire after the war, preserving his body cryogenically between missions to keep him young over the years. He became known in rumors as the deadly Cold Soldier.

Over the years, the Cold Soldier was programmed to have a deep resentment for the then-thought-dead Sergeant Speed. There was already something of the like in his subconscious, so it wasn't difficult to implant as a foundation. When the Sergeant shockingly returned in the mid-2010's, Hydra saw a need to exterminate him.

So, they sent the Soldier to assassinate the Sergeant. This ended up not working out very well, leading to a series of convoluted events involving flying aircraft carriers designed to execute all dissidents and a man with something called a "Thinking Cap." The results of which led to Barnes breaking from his programming and escaping. He still had animosity towards the Sergeant ingrained within him and was still missing some memories of the positive times they spent together But he was his own man again, and a man who held a deep resentment for Hydra.

Barnes disappeared for a while, tracking down other victims of Hydra's experiments on innocent people, those who were tormented by their tyranny, or tools that were cast aside once they outlived their usefulness. Hydra was famous for its tagline "Cut off one head, two more grow back in its place." But they were the heads that were cut off and left to roll in the dust until they wilted and died. Barnes brought them together so they had a chance at survival, and even a chance to thrive. The Cold Soldier became Captain Winters, leader of the Rogue Heads!

They were the second scourge of Hydra, taking down many of their operations just as Sergeant Speed did, but noble deeds weren't done dirt cheaply. The Rogue Heads were also master thieves and robbers, stealing whatever valuable thing they could get their hands on to fund a lavish lifestyle beyond their exploits. Additionally, they served as hired guns to the highest bidder.

Weeks ago, the Rogues were hired to pull a heist for none other than the Inquizitor. They were trying to steal the aforementioned Thinking Cap from a top-secret SHIELD Facility. Sergeant Speed had arrived on the scene and managed to take down his whole team before they could secure the score. Barnes only got away after a sacrifice play from one of his compatriots. The remainder were apprehended and remanded to Belle Raft. He has since spent every waking moment planning a new heist, but the score was now his Rogues. After being used as a tool his whole life, Leonard Barnes valued loyalty and respect above all else.

Barnes stared at the empty chairs at his empty table. He was drafting a plan to break out his cronies until he heard a sharp rush of wind whiz past his window. He knew the sound all too well: the break of the sound barrier. A speedster was here, most likely his speedster. "Crap."

Captain Winters grabbed a pair of rectangular blue goggles from off the table and put them on. He flicked his wrist and his arm shifted and folded open to shed the silver casing and reveal his Winter Cannon. The barrel of the gun was an orchid purple as it glowed with a radiant blue light. The goggles were meant to shield his eyes from the glare. He steadied his cannon with his other hand as he got to his feet. Barnes paced around the room, aiming his arm toward the walls as the rushes of wind outside continued to sound.

"You picked a bad day to step up to me, Sarge! Just run away now, and I won't use your frozen body to chill my margaritas," he threatened grimly.

His window shattered as the cold air rushed inside. With Barnes' parka, he didn't mind the cold, but he was angry. "You're paying for that, Sarge! Sam loved that window! They're gonna be pissed that you broke their favorite reflection in the house!"

Snow began to come in through the window as the wind howled its normal tune. Barnes could finally see the blurred rush past his field of view. He could only see the silver top, the Captain thought he recognized it as the Sergeant's winged helmet. "I'm not scared of you, ya coward! Quit yer stupid theatrics and face me like a man!" He commanded boldly as he fired a beam of sub-zero energy from his arm towards the window. A sheet of ice cascaded the gaping hole and covered it up. The wind quieted now with proper sealing. But after that, he heard nothing else to indicate another hostile.

"Good call, an open window up here creates the worst possible draft," a voice teased from behind Captain Winters. "And who knows what predators could get in, hoping to shield themselves from the cold."

Leonard turned around to see his supersonic intruder was actually the Silver Cheetah, dressed in a dark green bodysuit with a silver lightning bolt draped down and across her chest. She also had a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. The feline fatale gave a feisty feral smirk as she looked down at him. He tried aiming his gun towards her, but her reflexes were far too quick and she grabbed him by the arm to slam him onto the table. The table, being made of solid gold, hardly undulated from this impact. She pinned his arms down on the table and loomed over him ominously.

"You're out of your League, Captain. A gun that slows down "speedsters" is only any good if you can aim and shoot it. You've only ever posed a challenge to the Sergeant because you're effective at coordinating a team in a fight. One-on-one, you could never stand a chance against someone like me. That said, you're still a decent thief," the Silver Cheetah analyzed with a wicked grin as her tail swayed back and forth as she eyed her trapped prey.

"Look, are you writing my eulogy, or do you sleep with me? Because I'm getting very mixed messages here," he said crudely as he looked into the cat's eyes.

Minerva cringed in disgust at his question, "You're not my type. I'm actually here to offer you a job." She released her grip over Barnes and quickly dashed back a few feet.

"Good, because I ain't into catgirls, or dying for that matter." The Captain rose to his feet, but he kept his arm cannon ready to fire. "The streets are saying that you're Luthorson's housecat, and he's putting together a little league of his own. Am I to assume that he's extended an invitation to the Rogue Heads?"

The Silver Cheetah's eyes narrowed at his comment. She did not take being slighted lightly, but Loxxi instructed her to keep him alive. "I'm afraid we only have a few more seats at the table, and for whatever reason, Loxxi wants you specifically."

"I ain't leaving my team behind to rot. It's all of us, or none of us," Bucky asserted, he believed in honor among thieves above all else.

"Nobody said anything about abandoning them, Captain. We'll obviously still need hired muscle, goons, and the like. But you'll be the only one with a seat at the big kids' table. Consider yourself our Union Representative. Not to mention a hefty payment for your services." Minerva was just repeating the sales pitch Loxxi told her.

She was hoping that Barnes would decline the offer; then she could have an excuse to kill him. Her ancient patron, Urzcotatiaga, was screaming in the back of her mind to slaughter Barnes and feast on his blood. Unfortunately, her bloodthirst would not be sated at this time. Maybe she'd find a ski instructor around here on her way back.

"Okay, I'm listening. What's the job?" Barnes asked as he eyed Minerva's duffle bag.

As of now, a scarlet streak was rocketing from Fawcett City to Colorado. The Colorado Rocky Mountains were home to another major supervillain prison known as the Iron Vault. While Belle Raft was typically the place for the most dangerous criminals with inherent superhuman abilities, the Iron Vault was designated for those of a more grounded nature.

Anyone who made a permanent stay within the iron walls of the Vault wasn't physically enhanced, but those who used advanced technology to put themselves on a higher pedestal. The population of this prison was primarily jilted engineers who were mistreated by corporations or those who wanted to capitalize on their innovations by selling them as weapons of mass destruction. As a result, about 30% of the prisoners in the Iron Vault had some vendetta against either Stark Labs or Victor Stark specifically. The Iron Vault allowed not only for the containment of these criminals but also a facility to properly store and study the technology to reapply them for use to benefit society.

Sergeant Speed made his way across the American midwest at lightning speed. He was running at speeds beyond Mach 10, and he wasn't slowing down. Without his medication severing his connection to the Speed Force, he could run at his peak. He forgot how exhilarating it felt to move so fast. He felt alive as he crossed multiple states in minutes. As he blitzed through cities, he was even able to stop a few crimes on the way. A bank robber tripped here, a mugger disarmed and depantsed there, and Sarge even managed to save a cat from a tree. He had to slow down of course to ensure that the cat wasn't disintegrated by the G-forces, but that only took him a few extra seconds.

Eventually, Sergeant Speed made it to the mountains. He had to start decelerating in Nebraska to make sure he didn't destroy the road by stopping once he got to the prisoner transport. Once he arrived, Sarge was running at a rather mundane 60 miles per hour so the trucks could keep pace with him. Two armored trucks drove on the winding roads upon the stony cliffs. One truck was carrying some prisoners that were being transferred from the Vault to a different maximum security prison for normal criminals to temporarily hold them. The other truck was packed with the gear of those villains.

With the destruction of Belle Raft and the fall of Ryker's Asylum, the Iron Vault was one of the last remaining places secure enough to have a chance at holding superpowered criminals. So for the time being, those who didn't have inherent enhancements would have to be moved somewhere else to make room for everybody else.

Aboard the second truck was Agent Phil Faraday. He'd been coordinating the transports for the past few days with Sarge assisting with security. When he saw the crimson blur dashing past the trucks, he pulled out his radio and patched into the frequency of Sarge's ID card. "Nice of you to join us, Sergeant! I didn't think you could be late!" He said with a laugh.

"Well, you know, traffic," Sarge responded back. He didn't want to delve into his personal life with Agent Faraday. He'd done some missions with Phil before and liked the guy well enough; but he wasn't close with him at all, even though Agent Faraday was a huge fanboy for Sergeant Speed back in the day. Faraday kept trying to get Sarge to sign his trading cards, "they're vintage," he says. But Esteban never cared for the worship his position granted him. Still, he felt he should probably do him that kindness eventually. God knows he has the time.

"Who do we got today Agent?" Sarge asked as he was focused more on keeping himself at a reasonable pace rather than the world around him.

"We got five today," Phil answered. "We got Mick Morgenthau, Owen Mardon, Helmut Harkness, Sam Masters, and Batroc Walker."

"What?! Who's idea was it to put all of the Rogue Heads together in one truck?" Esteban called out in shock. He was dumbfounded that they put four of the world's most capable criminals together in one place.

"Don't worry. That truck is meant to hold eight crooks. We doubled the security just for them. And besides, with their gear all locked up in this truck, they aren't as much of a problem," Phil assured as he stared intently at the polearm and flamethrower of the Flag Burner, the wand of the Molecule Wizard, the mirror belt, saber, and shield of Mirror Move, a few of the Baron's Boomerangs, and the bag of tricks and leaping shoes of Batroc the Trickster.

Sarge let his mind race as he considered what could go wrong. He then thought about everything he could do to keep control of the situation. His supersonic mind jumped from contingency to contingency, everything he could do to keep the good people safe. His mind wandered to thinking about everything he could've done, and all the good people he couldn't keep safe.

It took until Agent Faraday shouting into his radio to snap Sarge out of his trance. "Hey, Sergeant! You still there? Where'd you go?"

Sarge brought himself back into the moment, he spaced out, and spacing led to him speeding up and running all the way to San Francisco. He luckily stopped before he hit the ocean. He stood on the beach, looking off into the horizon. He made note of a small stony island just off the shore. Esteban took a deep breath, basked in his surroundings, and let himself just exist in the present, just for a moment.

"Sarge…Sarge? SARGE!" Faraday called out into the radio. The volume made Sergeant Speed flinch. He took his ID card from his pocket and slid it underneath his helmet for easier communication.

"Ay, you don't have to shout so much. I hear you," Esteban responded as he rubbed his ear.

"Sorry, I just always wanted to do that," Phil said as he looked out the back window of the truck. "Are you coming back?"

"I'll be back in a flash," Sarge said as he took a runner's position to head east, and he shot straight back to the truck's route.

Sergeant Speed returned to the armored vehicles' side after about 30 seconds. As they continued along the mountain roads, Sarge could feel a chill in the air. "Is it cold up here to you?" He asked as he looked around.

"It's the mountains, cold is the default," Phil answered.

Esteban could feel himself begin to slow down as they kept going. Cold slowed down his molecules, the frigid air was a leech on his Speed Force energy. He was still fast, but there was a cap on how fast he could go now.

"Keep your guys sharp, Faraday. I think we got company," Sarge warned before the truck in front began to skid on the road. They hit a turn and it lost control quickly. The back end of the truck nearly swung off the edge of the mountain, but Sarge was quicker, and he dashed to in between the truck and the road railing, catching it with his strength and momentum. He reacted just in time to keep the transporter from careening over the side.

The truck Faraday was in with the weapons managed to slow down and round the turn with less issue. Sarge ran back to look at the cause. It was a patch of black ice that blended in with the road. It wasn't natural; otherwise, it would've covered a much larger portion. No, this was strategically placed as a diversion. A diversion to give time for an entrance.

From a high viewpoint in the mountains, a beam of ice shot down towards the ground, building off from its landing point back to its source, creating a crude ice bridge. Down from it slid Captain Winters. He was clad in his blue parka with one sleeve and white icicle detailing, tactical pants and boots, his blue protective goggles, and a dark gray facemask. His cannon arm was letting off mist from its barrel as the captain stood in the way of the trucks on the cliff.

A few guards came out of the first truck in tactical gear and rifles. They pointed their guns towards Captain Winters just in case he did anything crazy. Sarge ran in front of the trucks to face his foe, his fellow soldier, his once-good friend.

"Captain," Sergeant Garrick greeted formally.

"Sergeant," Captain Barnes greeted back.

"I had a feeling you'd come here, Bucky. I knew putting all your crew in one place was a bad move," Sarge lamented as he stared down Captain Winters.

"Well, who really expects a military organization to be organized?" Bucky responded as he readied his arm cannon again. "Run away, Garrick. I'm taking my fellas, and I'm going. I just got a huge score, and I ain't cutting them out."

Sarge put two and two together, "Whatever Luthorson's planning, it won't be worth it. You know all of this ends with you in a cell at the Iron Vault. Don't make me drop you." He said, putting his dukes up.

"What, like you did in Austria?" Just like that, Barnes fired his gun at the street, creating a large patch of ice across the road. Sarge dashed straight for the Captain, but the ice made him slip and slide right past his assailant.

Sarge went flying off the edge of the cliff, but he carefully stuck the landing in the ravine below and began making his way back up. In the meantime, Captain Winters was undertaking heavy fire from the armed guards. He used his arm cannon to create ice barricades for him to hide behind as he blasted his arm from cover.

The beam emitting from Barnes' Winter Cannon could reach as close to absolute zero as technologically possible. It could bring anything in its path to an absolute stop. And when the soldiers fired bullets into the beam's path, it did exactly that. Live ammunition fell to the ground like snowflakes as the beam also hit one of the guards and froze him against the side of the mountain. Barnes then charged towards the other two soldiers and rammed into them with his mechanical shoulder.

They tried fighting him hand in hand, but Barnes had been genetically engineered to be the perfect soldier. One tried to punch Barnes in the face, but he caught the fist and twisted it, forcing the soldier to the ground as he slid the man across the ice to then ram into the second guy's shin. An elbow to the gut sent the second man collapsing on top of the first as he threw the two of them against his barricades like they were made of cardboard. Bio-Wave's experiments also gave him superhuman strength.

Agent Faraday approached behind Barnes and raised a gun to the back of his head, "Hands in the air, Barnes!" he commanded.

The Captain complied and raised his arm and arm cannon into the air, only to then transform it back into a normal hand. He then swung the robotic arm back and down beyond the normal human range of motion to bonk the agent on the head, knocking him out. "Not bad, could've done worse." He commented as he threw him with the other two, and fired a low-intensity ice beam to coat them in a thin surface layer of ice. It would keep them trapped, but not severely harm them, save for a bit of hypothermia.

Captain Barnes made sure the Rogue Heads only ever killed if he deemed it necessary for the score, and those guards were not enough of a threat for him to consider it necessary. He then headed for the back of the truck to retrieve his allies.

Sarge made it back to the top of the mountain and slung his helmet right towards Bucky. The metal disk crashed into the back of Barnes' head and bounced back into the speedster's hand.

"Come on Bucky, whatever Luthorson is planning can't be worth your soul, he'll just be another tyrant like the one we spent our golden years fighting." Esteban pleaded as he affixed his helmet back on his head.

"You spent your years fighting them! And I'd never let myself fight for another guy like that. He's gonna save the damn world better than you guys ever did." Barnes asserted before firing another icy blast.

Sarge sidestepped the beam and charged straight towards Winters. He went in for a punch, but the Captain shifted his cannon back to his normal hand and grabbed his fist. The ironclad grip squeezed his hand like a vice. The Winter Cannon's entropy leeched away at the Sergeant's kinetic energy. He could feel himself slowing down.

"He's tried ruling this world more than anyone, how could you trust a man like that?" Sarge asked as he tried to vibrate his arm through Bucky's, but it was too cold for him to phase.

"I trusted you, didn't I? At least Loxxi doesn't hide behind a code to avoid doing real good."

Captain Winters went for a punch right in the gut, but Sarge blocked it with his knee. He leveraged his robotic arm and jumped up to unleash a flurry of lightning-quick kicks to the ribs. With a precise slam against the side of the arm to pop it out of Bucky's socket. He was effectively…disarmed. Finishing with another powerful knee to the gut, the Captain was sent careening against his ice bridge, crashing into it as it shattered to pieces beneath him.

"I'd say put some ice on that, but well," Sarge teased as he plucked the hand off his fist, vibrating his hand quickly to gauge his speed. Everything seemed to feel normal again. He then put this to use by using the vibrations to generate enough heat and friction to melt the ice the guards and Faraday were trapped in.

Barnes groaned and rolled his eyes under his goggles, "Very funny, what's next? Gonna say "Need a hand?""

"No, but I am wondering how to put you in handcuffs before I run you over to the Iron Vault," Sarge pondered as he slung the metal arm over his shoulder, the hand aimed toward the truck. "Tell me, Buck, what's Loxxi planning, what did he need you and the Rogues for?"

"You think I'm just gonna spill my guts because you think I'm down and out? That ain't the game we play anymore. The score's a lot bigger now, Sarge. And I ain't out just yet." Barnes answered with a smirk.

"Jingle Bells, Blind Bat Smells!" He off-keyly sang. His severed arm pinged in reception and fired off an ice beam straight toward the truck holding the other Rogue Heads. It was a backup phrase Barnes put in the arm to trigger it remotely in case he was ever separated from it. The arm also shot off Sarge's shoulder and onto the ground. The Captain caught the arm and put it back on his shoulder.

The ice coated over the truck, turning the steel hull nice and brittle. A few loud thuds were coming from inside the truck until a large, bald, and burly man shattered through the freeze-dried truck. Five others in prisoner uniforms filed out.

There was the aforementioned large man, Mick Morgenthau. He was a pyromaniac terrorist whose nation was wiped from existence by one of Kang Degaton's paradoxes. Now a man without a country, he strives to burn all countries to the ground so the world knows the loss he felt as the Flag Burner.

Second was a slim man with spiked hair, pink sclera, and lightning bolt-shaped scars across his face. Owen Mardon lost his brother to Hydra's experiments with the matter-altering wand made from the body of Bentley Williams. He stole the wand for himself, and let the techno-magician's essence guide him as the Molecule Wizard.

The third was the androgynous person built like a natural Adonis. They were Sam Masters, the grandchild of the Master Olympian and the Apex Warrior, bred to be the perfect human specimen. They were raised by Hydra to be a living weapon, but when he developed the meta-mutant power of reflective reflexes, they were further tortured and experimented on to recreate their abilities. Once they escaped, they used their inherent mastery of any combat they saw to be their own weapon, becoming the deadly assassin Mirror Move.

Fourth was a slender man with a blue wool mask covering his entire face, save for his eyes. Helmut Harkness was the grandson of the Baron who took control of Baroness Von Strucker's territory after the fall of Hydra. He lived in luxury, mastering the art of boomerang throwing in his pastime until acolytes of Bio-Wave abducted and tortured him. They used an extremely powerful adhesive to permanently bond the mask to Helmut's face and altered his very DNA so that he could not prove himself heir to the throne. Hungry for revenge, he joined the Rogue Heads as Baron Boomerang with the hope of one day reclaiming his title.

Lastly was a young Frenchman with spiky, unkempt blonde hair with a purple streak down the middle. He was also missing his right arm. No one quite knows what his specific animosity towards Hydra is. But he was a skilled fighter and anyone who hated Nazis was welcome among their ranks. So the Captain inducted Batroc the Trickster into the Rogue Heads.

"Hey fellas, I'm bustin' you out! We got a job to do!" Captain Winters called out with a cocky laugh. He shot a small trail of ice across the road and slid past the Sergeant to stand between him and his soldiers.

The Rogue Heads cheered at the site of their leader. They knew their dutiful Captain would never abandon them. They'd follow him to the gates of hell and they'd freeze it over.

Sergeant Speed stared down his other five foes, letting out an exasperated sigh. He knew that putting all of the Rogues together in one place was a terrible idea for exactly this reason. On the bright side, they were all without their gear. If he played on defense, keeping them away from the other truck, and keeping them separated, he could win this with ease.

At least, that would've been the case had a green and silver blur not snuck up behind the Sergeant, pouncing on him, and tackling him to the ground. Silver Cheetah had been lying in wait, prowling in the shadows until the perfect time to strike. She dug her claws into his back and licked off the blood.

"What, you didn't see that coming?" Cheetah taunted before blitzing away from Sarge. She slashed her claws against the other truck and retrieved the Rogue Heads' gear. Within seconds, they went from their prison uniforms to wearing their super-criminal costumes and armed to the teeth.

Mick looked down at the flamethrower in his hands, then felt the black cowl with red eyes on his head. "Did she…did she just undress and redress us all?"

Sam's expression was unreadable after they were shrouded in their white hood, cloak, and mirror face mask. "It appears she did. It really makes you wonder how many times Sarge could've done this to us," they commented before taking a fighting stance, raising their mirror shield and holographic saber.

"I've been telling all you blokes, this for years! And you never took me seriously on it!" Baron Boomerang outcried as he straightened the gold crown now on his head, then retrieved a pair of boomerangs from within his jacket.

The Molecule Wizard held his wand to his ear, listening for the whispers of the trapped soul of Bentley Williams. He chuckled at whatever the wand told him. "Yes, yes, I've missed you too. Let's not worry about how you came back to me."

Lastly, Batroc flexed his prosthetic arm, now back where it was supposed to be. He then clicked his heels together, causing the mechanisms in his boots to lift him slightly into the air. "I have no problem with the chatte dame seeing moi bag of tricks."

Silver Cheetah shot a glare toward the Trickster, gnashing her fangs at him.

Captain Winters shot an ice beam into the air to get everyone's attention, "Everyone, focus! We're doing Echelon Maneuvers. Can you guys hold 'em off?"

"It would be my pleasure, Capitan! Allons'y, gentleman!" Batroc exclaimed before he flew higher into the air.

Sarge got to his feet, channeling the Speed Force to quickly heal from Cheetah's strike. With a speedster aiding the Rogue Heads, it felt like fighting the Hydras of Injustice all over again; Thawne and all. Even after defeating the originals, their evil begat something new. They were all victims of Hydra's tyranny, but they turned their pain into something he saw as dangerous to the rest of the world. Before him stood the result of a cycle of violence that he was not strong enough to end.

Cut off one head, two more grow back in its place.

But, if he couldn't end that cycle here, all he could do was keep moving forward. A seven versus one with all of them at their most capable would not be easy, but he was never known for being a quitter. So he tipped down his helmet, took a runner's stance, and ran right into the fray.

Chapter 27: Time in a Bottle

Sergeant Speed charged straight towards the Molecule Wizard first. The wand made him the most volatile of the Rogue Heads. Deep down, he pitied Mardon. He was driven mad by Hydra to be another human weapon like Bucky, but the influence instead came from the soul of the man who killed his friend.

Before he could reach him, however, Sarge was stopped in his tracks by a pouncing Silver Cheetah. She wasn't as fast as him, especially right now, but in a situation like this, she was buying the Rogue Heads precious seconds to mount their attack.

"Come on, Minerva, is helping Loxxi really what you want?" Esteban asked, looking at the feline fatale with disappointment. Before her feral transformation, she was another that Sarge saw as a potential legacy. Sergeant Speed and Miss Mercury had a nice ring to it at the time. During her extremely short time on the L.M.I., she showed great promise in being a hero for the next generation in his eyes. He loved Minerva like a niece, and it broke his heart to see her go down this path.

"Loxxi's been the only one to ever care about what I want," Minerva growled before tearing into Sarge's costume with her claws.

"If you let us, we can help you. Jessica misses you," Sarge pleaded before he elbowed her in the stomach and dashed back.

He followed up by flinging his helmet into her to get some distance. He kept trying to get closer to the rest of the Rogue Heads. They were moving in slow motion compared to the two speedsters, but slow motion was still motion. And while the window of opportunity was always open for an attack, Minerva was there to make sure he never leaped through it.

Sergeant Speed and the Silver Cheetah zipped around the cliffside, chasing each other like feral animals. Sarge fought like a soldier: Skilled, precise, aiming to subdue and restrain. Minerva fought like a wild beast: Savage, brutal, and out for blood. She was a few hairs slower than him, but the Silver Cheetah's claws tore through him like a plow through a field.

Captain Winters and the Rogue Heads looked around at the red and green blurs with almost a sense of relief. Usually, it'd require careful strategies and team synergy just to hold their own against Sarge. It was kind of nice just watching someone else fight the Sergeant and make him sweat for a change. But they had their eyes on the prize.

"Alright, we're with you, Lenny. What's the play here?" Flag Burner asked as he tried to train his gun on Sergeant Speed, but he couldn't get a clean shot without singing their silver savior.

"Minnie there is softening him up. We do our usual tango with Sarge, and then she's gonna take me and Boomer to the Vault and take the score, you guys hold him off, and then once we're square, Sammy can get us all out. Think you can stall him out, Mick?" the Captain asked.

"You got it, Cap." Flag Burner answered with a loyal salute.

Barnes tracked the speedsters' movements as best he could. He fired icy blasts from his arm at the two of them, all of them missing. In their wake, spires of ice protruded from the mountainside.

Sarge and Minerva kept tussling, but now they dodged and weaved past the icicles. The Silver Cheetah would grab the Sergeant's face and drag it up the side of the mountain before slamming him into one of the spires. His cowl protected him from most of the damage, and his helmet from the concussion, but the exchange left his face bloodied. But he used the new environment to his advantage and grabbed an ice spike. He swung himself all the way around it before dismounting from beneath and sending him flying forward, dropkicking straight into Minerva's chest.

Minerva would go flying off the cliff, just as Sarge did minutes ago. Luckily, cats always land on their feet. She hit the valley below harmlessly, but she groaned in annoyance as she stared up at the climb back to the fight.

Sarge landed back onto the road. With Minerva gone, he finally had a millisecond to breathe. He ran towards Mardon, but he was stopped as the literal road beneath him punched him in the face. With a wave of the Molecule Wizard's wand, the asphalt reshaped into a little hand beneath Esteban, shot up, and uppercut him in the jaw.

Another flick of Owen Mardon's wrist transmuted the asphalt fist into a neodymium magnet which forced Sarge's helmet to slam his head down on top of it again. Then, before Sarge could remove the helmet and free his head, Batroc the Trickster came crashing down onto his back.

Sergeant Speed managed to pull himself off the magnet and went for a quick pivot and an uppercut toward Batroc's jaw. He'd just fought him last week, and among the Rogue Heads, he was the only one Sarge found genuinely annoying.

Batroc leaped into the air with his boots to avoid the next hit and reached into his bag of tricks. "'Scuse moi, Sergeant, you seem to have lost these from our last encounter!" He announced before tossing a barrage of marbles into the air.

Molecule Wizard then fired his wand at the marbles. They absorbed the air molecules around them to grow in size, causing mini-explosions in the atmosphere's wake. The tiny marbles grew and reshaped into steel anvils. They lost all momentum and plummeted down like the deadliest kind of weather. The Wizard laughed maniacally at his handiwork, continuing to listen to the whispers from his wand.

Sarge dodged the falling anvils with ease, but the terrain became even more unsteady as he tried to run around it all. The ice and new debris made this a very difficult environment for him to fight in. Captain Winters took advantage of that as he kept firing blasts of absolutely frigid air from his cannon, building ice walls from the road. The chunks of cryogenic crystal coruscated in the sunlight.

Sarge saw the new walls as an opportunity. He forced his helmet off the magnet in the road and flung it towards the ice. It flew through the air, colliding with the first spire, bouncing off it to hit the second, the third, and the fourth, but right before it would've crashed into Captain Winters, Mirror Move stepped out directly from the fifth chunk of ice and grabbed the helmet mid-air. While Mirror Move's only inherent powers were to reflect any movements they saw, they stole technology used by one of their bounties, Jonah McCulloch, the Mirror Magistrate, to control reflections themselves and travel through reflective surfaces.

Mirror Move then hurled the helmet back in the same way Sarge had just thrown it, bouncing off the ice in the same way. Their photographic reflexes allowed them to throw it at the same speed as well, briefly catching Sarge off guard and slamming him in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him for a moment.

While Sarge recovered, Captain Winters looked at the side of the cliff and sprayed a massive sheet of ice on the face of the mountain. The ice glistened in the right light, and it posed as the perfect escape for when the Rogues had to get out of dodge. "You know what to do, Masters."

"Of course, Captain," Mirror Move said with gusto as they banged their holographic saber, a sword whose blade was made from hard light, against their mirror shield. From the shield spouted a mirror image of their progenitor. They advanced towards Sergeant Speed like a dangerous duo he remembered from his golden days.

Sarge got to his feet. He was starting to feel like he was in over his head. He'd fought all these guys together many times before and won handily. But the first fights with Bucky and Minerva took a bit out of him. He remembered his last day in his own time; all of the Society's finest versus Hydra's vilest. It was one-on-one fights back then, but now all of the legacies of their heinous acts stand before only him. He couldn't help but feel a tad outmatched.

Sarge was about to reach for his ID card to call Cyberman for backup. Miraculously, it managed to stay tucked inside his helmet even after being tossed around so many times. But he hesitated before triggering the distress signal. Maybe it was pride, to prove he hadn't lost his edge, maybe it was a sense of duty to handle these guys himself for the men who lost the chance to, but Sarge decided that he was going to handle them on his own.

The Mirror Moves came in swinging synchronously. It was like playing the most dangerous game of Double Dutch as Sarge dodged and ducked away from every blow. He responded in turn with flurries of rapid punches, but the assassin's body reacted faster than their mind. Each thrown fist was countered by a reflection of itself.

Sam marveled at their body's photographic reflexes keeping up with what they only perceived as a blur of fists from both sides. "I love this part so much, really gets the joints loose," they quipped before the duplicate of Mirror Move grabbed Sarge and bashed him with the shield into one of the trucks. The two of them then hurled their shields at him, raising them over their heads to mimic the way Sarge threw his helmet.

Sarge braced himself for impact, but he felt time slow down around him. His heart rate was speeding up so fast that he was tapping into more of the Speed Force as a defense mechanism. He took the extra "time" to focus on the incoming projectiles. He saw that the shield thrown by the duplicate of Mirror Move had slight cracks in it that glistened in the sun. The only way to beat Mirror Move was by using attacks they could not reflect. So by using both shields coming at him, he could throw them off their rhythm.

Time resumed as normal as the shields continued careening toward Sarge. He positioned his hands precisely so in the slowed-down timeframe to catch both shields, and they slotted perfectly into his hands. He stood up and spun around fast enough to whip up a whirlwind around himself, calculating the precise time and place to let both loose, and he slung them off.

The duplicate's disc went to the left, bouncing off the sheet of ice on the cliffside, then back towards the two Mirror Moves. The second shield went down first, bouncing up into the air, hitting Batroc the Trickster again, down towards the railing on the edge of the road, then finally towards the mirror-faced marauder.

The reflection's shield was about to hit the real Mirror Move, but they were braced to catch it. That was until the real shield came flying straight to it. The shields collided, and the real thing shattered the fake into a myriad of shards. The shrapnel shot straight into Sam's secondary soldier, shattering them as well. Mirror Move's duplicates could match them offensively, but they were as fragile as the mirror they crawled out of. The real Sam Masters was also covered in shards of hard light at this time. Sarge then ran straight into Mirror Move, and with a clean sock to the jaw, knocked them to the floor.

Before Sergeant Speed could celebrate this victory, he was engulfed in flames. Flag Burner had come from behind and blasted him with his flamethrower. His suit was designed to be heat resistant due to all the friction he generated by running, but even that had its limits.

Morgenthau laughed heartily as he sprayed concentrated heat in the Sergeant's direction, "You can't take the heat, get outta the country! 'Cuz I'm burning this whole place to the ground!"

While the flames hurt like hell, there was also a fairly easy way of handling the issue. Sarge held out his arms and started rapidly spinning them in circles, creating mini cyclones from his arms. They sucked in Mick's flames like a vacuum, robbing them of the needed oxygen.

"Only you can prevent forests, except me. I can also prevent forest fires," Sarge quipped in his earnest, boy scoutlike tone. He then spun his arms around in the opposite direction to send a large gust of back at Flag Burner, knocking him over.

His cockiness was extinguished as quickly as Mick was, as he was stabbed in the back by a pair of boomerangs. Behind Morgenthau and Captain Winters was Baron Boomerang. He had thrown his weapons from around the cliff's edge to hit him from behind.

"G'day, Sergeant Meth! Forget about me?" the Baron called out from behind the two gunners.

In reality, Sarge did forget about Baron Boomerang. But when he was fighting so many people at once, it was difficult to keep track of everyone. He groaned in pain as he plucked the boomerangs out of his back, and tried to let his speed accelerate the healing.

"Here, let me put some ice on that!" Captain Winters said mockingly as he blasted Sergeant Speed with his Winter Cannon. The beam was fast, but Sarge was faster. He tapped into the Speed Force to slow down time. He sidestepped the blast and made a break straight for Captain Winters. But as he ran, slipped on some of the ice still left on the road. He lost control of himself and flew straight forward, tripping on one of the anvils created by Molecule Wizard, only to then fall into what appeared to be a puddle of fake vomit left behind by Batroc the Trickster.

Sarge staggered back to his feet and wiped the mess off his face, but before he could find his footing, he was struck in the back, and it was coated with a sheet of ice. While missing its target initially, the ice beam flew past Sarge toward the barricades Captain Winters put up at the start of the fight. Mirror Move fired a beam of light from their saber to turn the reflective surfaces of the ice barricades into portals. The beam passed through one, ricocheted through the others, and then popped out of one more to fly straight into Sergeant Speed's back. This was the kind of planning and synergy that allowed the Rogue Heads to hold their own against Sergeant Speed for all these years.

"He's tagged, folks! Finish him off!" Captain Winters commanded as he lowered his arm to fire another icy blast at Sarge's legs, freezing him to the road.

The rest of the Rogue Heads then went all out on the restrained Sergeant Speed. Molecule Wizard turned the ice at his legs into lead, keeping him even further secured to the ground. He then blasted Sarge in the chest with a barrage of plasma created from air molecules. Mirror Move fired a beam of light from their sword into Sarge's back. Baron Boomerang flung more of his eponymous weapons at him, while Batroc started smacking him across the face with a rubber chicken. The coup de gras was when Flag Burner took the flagpole he used as a spear and jabbed it into Sarge's thigh. It didn't hit anywhere lethal, but it hurt like hell.

Fighting the Rogues was always a dangerous endeavor, but he knew they would never kill him. It wasn't "part of the game", Bucky would say. That didn't stop them from being extremely brutal in the fights. They'd seldom ever gotten this far, so being beaten like this was a novel experience.

He needed to figure a way out of this, a way to beat these guys. He just needed to focus. But every second, there was another blow. He was cold, hot, shocked, and sore all over. All of the pain and stress taxed on his already vulnerable psyche.

Esteban racked his brain to try and think of a way forward, but he kept hitting dead ends. Run backward: get trapped in one of Mirror Move's portals. Phase through the spear: get burned by Flag Burner. Going anywhere else would get him either frozen, zapped, or tricked. He was completely trapped.

Sarge's mind kept racing, his heart matched its pace as he kept internally speeding and speeding up, trying to give him a moment's peace. He felt so helpless in that one moment. He was supposed to be better than this. He was the fastest man alive because everybody faster wasn't alive. The Speed Force responded to his needs and kept flowing into his body, and his mind, until he got exactly what he thought he needed.

Time was frozen, but unlike his previous taps into the Speed Force, he was frozen with it. His mind was operating at such a high speed, that the rest of his body couldn't keep up. He was faster than the speed of thought. He had time in a bottle, but he was in the bottle with it. A bottle, he had forgotten to take his meds before coming here. He just wanted to be at his peak again, but even that wasn't enough to handle Minerva and the Rogue Heads. Nothing he could do was enough, Sarge felt helpless. This was what panic attacks were like to a Speedster. No time passed at all for the Rogues, but for Esteban Garrick, he was locked in, and he was going to be there for what felt like a while.

As half a second turned into what felt like hours, all Esteban Garrick could do was sit and suffer through all his worst thoughts. He couldn't even breathe to calm down, as not even his lungs could keep up with his supercharged brain. This was one of the downsides of super speed no one considers. He thinks about how he could have avoided this by just taking his meds. But he was too proud to let himself be less than.

He thought a lot about the people he was supposed to be there for, but couldn't. One of the first things he did after he came to the future was visit the graves of the people Thawne mentioned. When he found the graves of Barry Frank and the rest, they weren't remembered as heroes, just an assortment of random men cut down at random points in their lives. Everything they were meant to do with their lives was erased by Thawne, and only Esteban was left to mourn them.

He was supposed to be in an unremarkable grave alongside them, but he got lucky, he lived. But that meant everything those speedsters were supposed to run for now rested solely on him. It was like a parent mourning a miscarriage, all you have to miss is the potential, of what could've been.

His thoughts progressed to the Rogue Heads. In a way, they were also a part of his legacy. They were the results of him and the MSA failing to completely rid the world of Hydra, and they were led by the main Esteban saw as his own greatest failure.

Sarge had fought the Rogues on many occasions. Given both groups' deep animosity towards Hydra, they crossed paths often. Esteban worked with SHIELD to contain any Hydra remnants, making them face justice the "right" way. The Rogue Heads took a more expedient approach. He'd seen many soldiers turned into ice sculptures, shattered to pieces like glass, or just burned to cinders. One never forgets the smell of a burning Nazi.

On one hand, getting rid of them is a good thing. A little bit of him envied being able to handle them so callously. Sarge often considered just letting Bucky and the heads do their own thing, let them solve the Hydra problem for him. But he knew that would in time only spell disaster. Such extravagant displays of violence only lead whoever's left to escalate. The heads grow back from the gore. That's why the League hardly gets involved in fighting Hydra; because then they're going to try and create a counter for Thunderman or Wonder Crystal out of necessity, and nobody wants to deal with that. To summarize; he was just middling enough in power to keep Hydra from trying to make things more powerful than what it would take to handle him.

So, they leave everything to Sarge and SHIELD. Operations are done by the book, and all detained members are processed by the international justice system and sent to prison. They show that the way society and its laws work the way they're supposed to, hopefully preventing the next generation from wanting to support Hydra's tyranny. It's a delicate balance, but it's kept Hydra from pulling anything too far beyond what they can handle. By keeping the war on Hydra "fair", on a specific level of power, it keeps the dragon sleeping.

His thoughts finally then came to the two speedsters he'd actually met: Johann Thawne and Minerva Maximoff. Both of them were driven by an intense hate to commit the atrocities they did. Sarge hated Thawne for everything he took from him, but he pitied Minerva. She could've been so much more.

She was the older twin daughter of Erik, but everyone knew Jessica was his favorite. That is when he was around physically and mentally. She always wanted to prove to her father that she was good enough. When she and Diana were together, Minerva always felt like she was overlooked because she wasn't truly part of their world. When she was finally given the talisman by her father, she wanted to be the greatest hero of her generation, so the world would finally acknowledge her.

But her zeal for power was her undoing, and she could not bear the sacrifices needed to be a hero, including the chastity the talisman required to not be cursed by the patron's magic. Minerva was victim to a horrible curse that forced her down the dark path she ran, but she chose to run that path herself because the other paths weren't enough for her.

Perhaps if he knew what led Thawne to become the man he was, Sarge would sympathize for him as well. But then again, a bad childhood can't excuse being a time-traveling Nazi who changes a man's ethnicity so that he becomes less of a hero. That's a level of cartoonishly diabolical evil that one can never truly look past.

That was the last thing that plagued his mind. Did changing the past to make him Mexican really make him less of a hero? His own race never mattered to him, and he knew the importance of everyone being able to see a hero who was someone like themselves. But on the other hand, do another less savory kind of people see him as less than how they would view him if he was the blonde hair, blue eyed, boy scout, and how much does their point of view matter? The world sees him among the Pantheon of the LMI, their equivalent to the Messenger God Hermes. But he could have been so much more than another pair of boots on the ground. He could have been a symbol of the American Dream, and be a guiding hand to bring that to everyone, but Thawne took that from him too, his potential.

These thoughts would be punctuated by Sarge finally seeing one thing moving in his field of view. Very slowly, he saw the Silver Cheetah climb her way back up the cliff and towards him. She was, in reality, moving extremely fast, but his perspective still had her moving at a snail's pace. As much as he knew this next strike was going to hurt, he would take solace in knowing it would snap him out of this frozen hell.

Minerva charged into Sarge and slashed her claws across his face. His goggles were cracked and the straps were lacerated off his face. They fell right off his cowl, which was now even worse for wear. Sarge's face was bleeding, but his mind was back in tune with his body so he could feel the pain.

Esteban groaned in pain as he vibrated his molecules to phase through Minerva's next strike. He also phased through Flag Burner's spear and returned her scratches with a clean sock to the face. "You're gonna be confused by this, but thanks." He said before he was blasted with Flag Burner's flamethrower, just as he predicted would happen from what felt like hours ago to him.

Minerva grabbed Captain Winters and Baron Boomerang and picked them up by the backs of their coats like they were kittens, "Alright boys, you've had your fun, let's go get what we came here for." She wasn't much larger than them, but she held them up in the air so effortlessly.

"Do you gotta carry us like this, this doesn't seem very efficient," Bucky asked, feeling a little self-conscious about how he looked in front of his crew.

"Not really, but it does make you look adorable, doesn't it?" Minerva responded with a smirk.

Baron Boomerang didn't seem all too bothered by the position he was in, "Keep given' him hell, boys! Hooroo, Sergeant Meth!" He called out before Minerva sped off back towards the Iron Vault with the Captain and Baron in tow.

Sergeant Speed got to his feet and stared down the remaining four Rogue Heads. On the bright side, his claw wounds were cauterized. On the other side, he was very badly injured, and he still needed to stop Minerva and Bucky from stealing whatever they were stealing. He finally admitted to himself that he needed backup. He went to reach into his helmet to grab his ID card and call for help, but to his horror, it was replaced with a playing card, two of clubs to be exact.

"Ta-Da!" the Molecule Wizard exclaimed, holding his wand in the air. He'd transmuted it during one his blasts.

"It appears you're on your own, Sergeant. It's a real shame, I would've loved to go toe to toe with someone who was actually worth replicating. Fighting you has almost grown a bit stale," Mirror Move taunted as they banged their saber against their shield, creating a few more mirror images to up the ante of the fight.

Flag Burner grabbed his spear from the ground and raised it into the air, "The next one's going through your heart, Speedy!"

Batroc hovered back into the air as he looked around, feeling something change in the atmosphere. "He doesn't seem all too worried, mes amis. Pourquoi?"

Sergeant Speed's worry turned to sweet relief as he saw dark clouds rolling in around them, "Don't you hear it?" He asked to the group.

"No, what is it?" Batroc asked.

"Thunder," Sarge answered with a smile.

With a loud rumble, and a louder crack, a cascade of lightning bolts descended from the heavens and crashed down upon the Rogue Heads. Mirror Move's duplicates were shattered to pieces. Their destruction would probably add up to about 50 years of bad luck. Molecule Wizard and Flag Burner's weapons became lightning rods, and they were fiercely shocked. Lastly, Batroc the Trickster was knocked out of the sky and forced to the ground, the impact and shock rendered his Leaping Boots inoperable.

After the light show, Thunderman flew down from the clouds to land by Sergeant Speed, "Well met, Sergeant," Thor called out in his booming voice.

"Hey Thor, thanks for the help. I guess I'm back to owing you eighteen, right?" Sarge asked, still reeling from everything he just experienced.

"Bah, don't think too much of it!" Thor answered with a laugh, "I only keep count for Stark because I know how it vexes him. You're all good." The god put a hand on Sarge's shoulder. He felt Esteban flinch as he was grasped. "Oh, you seem to have a few battle scars. Do you need my aide, Sergeant?" He offered jovially as he raised his hammer and twirled it in his hand.

"No, no thanks. I can heal fast. What I need is to get to the Vault and stop Minerva and Bucky," Sarge answered as he took a few deep breaths and let the Speed Force accelerate his healing, primarily closing the hole in his thigh after Flag Burner's stab.

Thor noticed the lightning crackling around Sarge as he channeled the Speed Force energy, "Sergeant, your aura returns to you. What of your medication?" He asked with a worried look. Dr. Donald Kent was one of the physicians who helped engineer the medication that kept Sarge in the right headspace.

"It's fine, it's fine Thor. I just forgot to take it today. I think it's alright. I needed the power boost when I was going up against these guys. Silver Cheetah did a real number on my face. I'll take them after all this is over." Sarge assured as he patted one of the pouches on his belt. He felt the pill bottle still in there.

"Sergeant, did you get locked in again?" Thor asked in a far more serious tone. He was genuinely concerned for his friend.

Sarge sighed, "Yeah, I was for a little bit. But I'm fine. I needed to be at my best, and I still do. I can handle myself."

"And what if you can't? What if you overload yourself, and let the stress of battle force your mind into that box again? All your speed is for naught if you lack the peace of mind to use it!" Thor reprimanded.

"And my peace is useless if I can't use my speed to save lives," Sarge argued back.

"Sergeant…Esteban, you are more than what you can do for others. Don't forget to save yourself too." Thor reminded him with a kind smile. "If not for yourself, do it for the League. You are my brother-in-arms, one of the only people I am proud to call my brother. Your pure heart and strong mind are all the value you need provide to us. Preserve them above all else."

Sarge looked at the face of his friend and relented. It was hard to say no to him. He reached into his belt pouch, grabbed his bottle of pills, cracked open the bottle, and took two pills. With a quick swallow, the lightning around Sarge faded away. He felt a calm wash over him as his mind was grounded back to the standard flow of time. He was still fast, but not at the level he felt he needed to be.

"So what do I do now that I'm barely faster than a speeding bullet? What's the strategy?" Sarge asked, still a bit apprehensive.

"Bullets hurt, Esteban. Don't overthink it. Sometimes the simplest solution truly is the best one. Just do what you can." Thor answered before patting the sergeant on the back.

Just as Sergeant Speed slowed down, the slightly charred Rogue Heads rose back up and collected their weapons. Molecule Wizard waved his wand, and he seemed completely refreshed as the ash and soot from his previous shock disappeared. He shot his wand into the sky, and the blast of energy forced away all the clouds. It was clear skies, and not much opportunity for another lightning strike. Flag Burner cocked his flamethrower and Batroc retrieved his remaining bag of tricks.

Sergeant Speed got into a fighting stance, but Thunderman stepped past him and raised his hammer. "Go, Sergeant. I'll handle these ruffians, myself."

"Thanks. Make sure to keep your distance with Mardon. I don't think he can make Adth Metal with that wand, but he can probably make something that'll at least sting." Sarge warned as he got into a runner's stance to blitz past the Rogues and go after Silver Cheetah.

"Thanks for the heads up. As for you fighting Minerva, aim for the head. No particular reason, it's just aiming for the head never hurts, at least not you." Thor advised with a coy smile. He got into a similar running start position as Sarge. The two heroes stood side by side, brothers in arms prepared to fight their respective foes. They both tipped their respective helmets to each other and charged into battle!

Chapter 28: Cracking the Iron Vault

The Iron Vault is the United States' second most secure facility for the containment of the new breed of criminal. The prison itself was a massive tower sprouting up from the valleys between the mountains. The surrounding mountains all led down to a steep drop on all sides. Its only access point was a retracting bridge near the top of the tower, and after the reported ambush by Captain Winters, that bridge was currently nowhere to be seen.

As Silver Cheetah rushed her way to the cliffside where the bridge would have been, and she was not slowing down. Each of the Rogues was carried under one arm like long suitcases. Under the right arm, Captain Winters held out his cannon, fired a beam down at the ground, and built a makeshift bridge of ice from the cliffside to the entrance.

Iron Vault guards were already stationed at the entrance and raining down fire from their perch. Minerva was able to dodge and maneuver past them with ease. While the Sergeant had great difficulty running on ice, the Silver Cheetah's claws made the slick surfaces a non-factor.

But under Minerva's left arm, Baron Boomerang was taking boomerangs from his jacket and launching them wildly at the guards. These weren't thrown with the same precision that the Sergeant flung his helmet, but by the sheer number thrown, and the velocity at which they were launched, they were more than enough to neutralize the guards effectively.

It was at this point that Minerva was beginning to understand the value of the Rogue Heads. She had often chalked up Sarge's repeated challenges against them to his own inadequacy, but she learned that these men were truly capable.

When they made it to the entrance platform, Minerva dropped the two of them like old luggage. She stared down the large steel door surrounded by downed men. She briefly considered eating one of them, but they were on a time crunch. "Alright, Captain. Be a dear and freeze the door so we can bust in."

Instead of breaking the door, the Captain was getting sick over the side of the cliff. Moving so fast, changing elevation as rapidly as they did, and then stopping so suddenly, gave him motion sickness. "Just give me...a minute," Barnes requested as he held up one finger.

Baron Boomerang would have suffered the same affliction, had he not had an empty stomach. Due to his mask sealing off his mouth and being unable to remove it, he had to take in nutrients intravenously. "Step aside, Sheila. Let the ol' Baron show ya how it's done!"

Baron Boomerang reached into his coat to grab, to Minerva's surprise, not a boomerang. He retrieved a cell phone and approached the door's access panel. He began tapping away at the screen and hacked the door's computer controls. And within a few seconds, the door swished open.

Minerva looked a little surprised as Bucky had recouped and walked past her. "What, you didn't think we just kept him around for the boomerang gimmick, did ya? Baron Boomerang's real skill is cracking any lock."

"So why do you bother with the gimmick?" Minerva asked, a little flabbergasted, as they entered the vault. Her view of them was starting to deteriorate again as their idiosyncracies made themselves apparent once again.

"Because, Pussycat, boomerangs always come back. Just like I will someday to my rightful throne," the Baron answered as another horde of Vault guards filed into the room.

Minerva popped her claws and flashed a Cheshire cat smile. Urzcotatiaga was screaming in the back of her mind to have her fill. She was prepared to slice and dice her way through hundreds of people to get to the bottom floor.

Captain Winters realized this and quickly fired his cannon to create a massive ice wall that separated them from the guards. "We can't waste time with these guys. Besides, there's a much faster way down to where they keep the real goods." He said as he could hear a hail of bullets pelting the other side.

Bucky aimed his Winter Cannon at the floor and fired it straight down. The floor froze over, becoming brittle. "Helmut, if you please?"

"With pleasure, Captain!" Baron Boomerang answered as he pulled out a boomerang laced with plastique. He chucked it towards the frozen floor. "Take cover!" He shouted before jumping back and detonating the explosives.

A loud boom was heard as a large hole was blown through the floor, showing the next level below. A few cells could be seen down below. Everyone in the visible cells seemed to clamor and rave about the break-in.

"Why bother wasting them when there's a faster way to do this?" Bucky said pragmatically as he jumped down the hole. Baron Boomerang followed suit.

Minerva sighed in disappointment. She was still hungry. "Well you're no fun," she whined as she leapt through the hole and landed on the floor beside them. They'd proceed to do this over and over as they made their way to the lower floors. But every time they descended one floor, Bucky would fire a sheet of ice to cover their tracks above them.

Sarge got to the Vault a few minutes later. It was a challenge getting up Bucky's ice bridge without slipping and falling into the ravines below. He felt sluggish in comparison to before. His brain was in a fog as his connection to the Speed Force was severed and every second seemed to pass like a second. He felt like less of himself, but that was also less of the man who hated himself for living the life others didn't get to. He didn't feel like the man who was robbed of so much potential because a madman messed with time for a spiteful gag. In his simplest form, he felt like a man who put doing the right thing above all else. He was just Sergeant Esteban Garrick, he had a job to do, and that was enough.

He entered the main hall of the prison to see the large wall of ice left behind. It was see-through, and he could see Vault guards using recreations of Flag Burner's flamethrower to try and melt the ice. Sarge flung his helmet and shattered a portion of it, giving them a way through.

"Is everyone alright?" Sarge asked as he threw his helmet back on. A small horde of Vault guards ran past the Sergeant without giving him much mind or thanks.

"Everything's just fine, Sergeant Garrick. No thanks to you," a larger black woman with short black hair, greying at the temples. She wore a dark blue SHIELD uniform, a long black trench coat, and an eyepatch over her left eye. This was Amanda Fury, Director of SHIELD, and deeply respected and feared in all sectors as "The One-Eyed Wall". Because even with one eye, nothing gets past her.

"Director Fury, I'm surprised to see you out of the office. To what do I owe the pleasure," Sarge asked with a stern look. The League of Marvelous Individuals had a complex balance of power with SHIELD. They wanted the League under full government control, as Agents of SHIELD, but they would never put themselves on the leash. However, the two organizations remained friendly due to Cyberman's technological contributions, Wonder Crystal and Black Orca's diplomatic work, and Sarge's continued assistance on high-risk field missions. All of the League members respected Fury's power, but none of them liked her.

"Don't get cute with me, Speedy. I thought the prisoner transport was supposed to go without issue, Garrick. Now the Iron Vault looks like an apple with a worm chewing its way straight to the core! We were counting on your assistance, and you failed the mission! How could you let this happen?!" Fury berated Sarge, she was not a tall woman, having to stare up at Esteban. But she had an icy stare that briefly chilled the sergeant.

Now, Sarge was chilled, not frozen. He had just as much of a grievance to fire back. "It was a seven-on-one with one of them being another speedster. It's not my fault you were transporting the prisoners and their own weapons at the same time! Not to mention, you transported ALL of the Rogue Heads at the same time on the same truck. You made that transport a prime target for their leader to ambush. Forgive me for not being able to clean up your absolute tactical blunder!" He was genuinely a little angry, especially given the beating he sustained because of all of it.

Fury was paused at his response, she didn't know that the rest of the Heads were free, only Boomerang. "Somebody is getting fired, out of a cannon, for making that call. It was supposed to just be Boomerang and a few D-Listers. But I don't have time to be angry right now. We have a prison to secure, and robbery to prevent." She was zealous but professional. Regardless of her feelings about superhumans, she respected Sarge on his merits as a soldier.

"I'm going down there to handle Cheetah and the others, what kind of security does the bottom floor have?" Sarge asked, put slightly at ease by her shift in demeanor.

"No human guards, we have something a little more advanced down there. It's newly installed, it'll be interesting to see how its trial run pans out," Fury answered with a smirk. "So how are you getting down there?"

Sarge looked at the ice patches. He considered phasing through, but in his weakened state and the structure of the ice, he wasn't sure if he would just get stuck mid-vibration. There was however another option.

He ran over to one of the Iron Vault guards holding a replica flamethrower, "May I borrow this, por favor?" Esteban asked before quickly snatching it and running over to the patch of ice on the floor. He aimed down at the ice, pulled the trigger, and began spinning around in circles, shooting a ring of fire down at the ground. This continued until the ice gave and the remaining circle plummeted down to the next floor. "This is gonna take a bit, you coming?"

"I have to get something first, but I'll be taking the stairs," Fury shouted down the hole before walking off with the guards.

"Wait, where are the stairs and… she's gone," Sarge said with an annoyed sigh before performing his next viginti-quintuple axle with a flamethrower.

As the three villains blew their way down, floor by floor, Captain Winters and Baron Boomerang always quickly scanned the rooms to see what kind of people were in the cells. Most of the cells contained unremarkable men and women who, without their flashy costumes and weapons, were not easily identified. There were a few odd folks with serpentine features such as fangs, snake eyes, and even tails. Aside from Hydra, the most common organization Sarge would have to deal with was the Kobra Society, so he had to detain a lot of snake people.

Going deeper presented what the Iron Vault deemed the "Mad Scientist Wing." This floor was full of normal men who possessed no physical threat on their own but rather were those who engineered monsters or robots that members of the LMI would have had to deal with. Among their ranks were Elihas Heed, Holden Magnus, and Isbisa Quimby. Half of the inmates here were raving, yet brilliant lunatics who could somehow escape their cells if they were given something as innocuous as a plastic spoon for their pudding, so their cells were especially bare. Save for the scribblings on the walls of half-baked blueprints and schemes for escape.

The other half were the "geniuses" smart enough to serve their sentences on their best behavior, and hopefully get parole. Their cells at least had some decent furniture and books to pass the time. Some were even trustworthy enough to use their intelligence for good and help SHIELD develop advanced tech on a work release program. This wasn't based on any sympathetic ideas of redemption which many of the League campaigned for, but rather a utilitarian desire to get as much value as they could out of seized assets.

Any guards on the lower floors were quick to open fire whenever the three crooks arrived, but they were no match for the speed and ferocity of the Silver Cheetah. She was a force of nature compared to the firepower the guards had on hand. Her claws tore through their guns like butter and through their bodies like a tender cut of meat, which they indeed were to her. Minerva stood over the fallen men in the room as her hunger seemed to grow even more. "Surely, I'll be able to sate my appetite with these morsels, and we do have some time," she postured before raising her claws to fully rip apart one of the men she viciously lacerated.

"No, we don't roll that way, and as long as you're working with us, you're not killing unless you absolutely gotta," Bucky asserted as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

Minerva went to slash at his arm, but it was his cybernetic one, so it was only a mere scratch. "You're criminals, mercenaries even. What makes you so high and mighty that you set such a baffling limit on yourselves?!"

"All of us Heads had lives before Hydra, but they were taken from us because they saw our lives as expendable. I put together my team because no one is expendable, and all life's got value," Bucky explained with a sincere expression as he shifted his hand back into his cannon and shot ice down onto the next floor. "We'll ice a guy if we're paid to, but causing that kind of collateral damage is not how we operate."

"You soldiers," Minerva growled, "Always such a sentimental lot."

She rolled her eyes and slashed her arm through the guard she was clutching's arm, slicing it off and taking it with her as a snack. The two Rogues looked at her shocked and appalled. "What, he's not dead, just in shock, and a couple of pounds lighter. Do you know how difficult weight loss is in men over 40?" Minerva asked in a nonchalant tone.

"And they call me cold-blooded," Bucky quipped as they descended to the lowest level of the Iron Vault.

Baron Boomerang's only additional reaction was a clutching of his arm at the shoulder and a whisper under his breath that could only be assumed to be "Bloody Hell."

This was the "Vault" portion of the Iron Vault, the storage facility that housed the technology and weapons used by the inmates to wreak havoc upon the world. There were two layers of security at the bottom floor. The first was a ridiculously elaborate maze leading from the elevator and stairs to the vault door. The three villains were fortunate enough to circumvent the maze, unfortunate enough to drop in on the wrong side of the gigantic steel vault door that housed everything.

"Now tell me, why couldn't we have just used your friend with the pie tin for a face to send us in here?" Minerva asked with an annoyed growl as she gnawed through the severed arm.

"You think we haven't tried that, Sheila? We came here to rob the joint years ago. Still, after Sergeant Meth gave our skulls a good crackin', they made the entire inside of the vault pitch dark, specifically to counter Mirror Move's tech," Baron Boomerang explained with a chuckle, "You should've seen that little smirk Sam had for weeks after learning they made a whole new security protocol just for them!"

"Fine, go on you miserable wombat, crack the vault the old-fashioned way," Minerva ordered as she looked up towards the hole in the ceiling above them. Her catlike senses could tell that there were a lot fewer people in the Iron Vault right now. "Where are all the guards?"

Captain Winters readied his cannon as he looked around the bottom floor, "I dunno. Honestly, I was expecting another fight down here. But there's nobody here."

"Not just here, Barnes. Their blood, I can't smell it anywhere on this floor. The prisoners are still here, but not them. This feels off," the Silver Cheetah elaborated.

As the cheetah and captain discussed the situation, Baron Boomerang continued to work his way through the vault door. In reality, it was a series of multiple doors, each requiring a different protocol to unlock. It was a combination of electronic and manual locks, so he used both his hacking and lockpicking skills to get through a myriad of security checks. Unsurprisingly, he used a special "lockpick boomerang" to work through the latter obstacles.

"Whatever it is, we get outta here as quick as we got in," Boomerang stipulated as he cracked the final door, or so he thought. As the last of the vault's mundane security systems were cracked, the door slid open to reveal a large computer screen. Green static flickered on it briefly before a picture formed across it. It was that of a familiar, pudgy, bespectacled face. It was a face both Baron Boomerang and Captain Winters knew all too well.

"Grüezi, mein freunds!" It was the face of Doctor Arnim King, Bio-Wave. But there was nothing biological about him anymore.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Bucky said with contempt as he aimed his cannon towards the face on the screen. "How the hell are you still alive!?" He fired a blast of ice, but there was some kind of green, holographic shimmer that repelled the blast, likely a security feature added for that exact purpose.

"How far back do you vant me to go?" King asked with a coy smile across his face.

"Well, while I'm hacking you to pieces, start from the beginning while you still have the memory," the Baron said before being badly shocked by the computer panel he was working on.

"Ah, bup bup, little Baron. Consider me zhe Iron Vault's last line of defense," Arnim explained as a series of heavy caliber machine guns seemed to eject from various panels in the walls, all aiming toward Baron Boomerang.

"Ah, just Aces mate. Please, tell us more," the Baron responded as he raised his hands in the air, dropped his boomerangs, and took a few steps back to join the others.

"Anyvay, after my encounter vizh Wolfhawk back during the var, mein consciousness vas digitized and transferred into zhe leftover computer technology from Thawne and Degaton. I vanted him to kill me, und getting his wife killed did the trick just fine. It vas alvays my plan to be immortalized zhis vay, so Hydra could live on by my guidance," King explained with a giddiness, combined with a robotic distortion in his voice.

"I lost my connection to biological life, but the budding necks of Hydra salvaged me, und I had guided zhem for decades from zhe shadows until zhe technology of zhe time could catch up vizh mein genius. A few zhings happened here and zhere; some attempts at world domination, some men vizh cold guns for arms vere sent on assassinations, some masks vere glued to faces, you know, fun stuff!" He continued with a laugh, all of it seemed like he was recounting his fondest memories.

"Really, this was you too?! Why the bloody hell would you do that!?" Boomerang called out, baffled by the decision to disfigure him.

"So, how did you end up like this?" Minerva asked, genuinely curious about this, and completely unbothered by the guns in their faces.

"After zhe Sergeant und S.H.I.E.L.D. raided zhe base my hard drive vas being stored at, I vas reprogrammed by two of Fury's top scientists; Zan Fitz and Jayna Simmons I believe. Fury saw no purpose in vasting such a valuable collection of software and repurposed my AI as zhe Iron Vault's security system. She said she grew tired of zhe Princess hounding her about zhe reformation of criminals, und she vanted to give me a trial run to get her off her back." Arnim explained with a proud smile on his digitized face. He knew that his digital mind was completely altered to become what he was, fallen so far from once being the brains behind a Secret Empire. Part of him did feel shame, and a longing for that kind of power again. But he was also programmed to enjoy his new purpose, and that was enough.

"How can you let yourself be reduced to something so pathetic? You're a glorified PA system! After everything you did, you don't get to just go straight because Fury didn't have the cold cuts to put you down!" Bucky called out with almost disappointment, but it was mostly rage. He was waiting for decades to get revenge on Bio-Wave, and this was all that was left of him. There was a cruel irony of the man who brainwashed him to be his weapon now being brainwashed himself.

"Hurtful, but even after all my reprogramming, I still feel no remorse for what I did to you. I take so much joy in zhe pain I caused you, but also in zhe monsters you have become! Und I may not be Hydra's Brain anymore, but I make one hell of a deterrent!" King chimed as he began opening fire on the three of them.

The brain in the shell unloaded rounds after rounds of bullets at the three villains, but they were well-equipped for this scenario. Minerva would draw fire and outrun the guns, bullets were like softballs to her as she dodged them effortlessly. Meanwhile, Bucky fired his cannons to destroy the guns and coat the remains in ice.

Lastly, Baron Boomerang managed to sneak his way to the control panel and hack his way through the final door. The computer screen forcibly rose with a loud metallic rumble as the mother of all jackpots revealed itself to one of the world's greatest thieves.

"NO!" As the artificial intelligence screeched in fury, static crackled loudly from the screen as his voice deeply distorted. The holographic shimmer that protected his monitor had also seemed to short out and fizzle away. He would try and focus all his fire on Baron Boomerang, but he had either lost his guns or the ones he had run out of bullets.

Silver Cheetah and Captain Winters looked at each other with respect for their effective synergy, each giving the other a silent nod as they walked towards the inside of the Vault. It was dark at first, to prevent Mirror Move's entry, but Captain Winters focused his arm cannon to create a small, white glow from the cryonic energy to light up the room. As Bucky passed under the screen to look upon the spoils of war. Fantastical ray guns, doomsday devices, and confiscated suits of power armor lined the room, not to mention a great deal of gold. It was still a vault, you know. Boomerang was almost brought to tears at the sight of it all.

"So, you finally gonna tell us what we're snatching, Pussy? Baron Bloodbow's fiddle, Madame Cyber's mask, maybe even the Titanium Girder armor?" Boomerang asked as he passed by each one like a kid in a candy store.

"No, but take what you can carry in your coat, leave something of spoils for Mick and the others. We're here for something of real beauty," Bucky explained as the three of them went to the far right side of the room.

To the wall, there was what appeared to be a large helmet. It was gold with a purple crest wrapped around it. It was open at the top, so it was more of a crown. It was a wearable module used to enhance the latent psychic abilities within any person, giving them the ability to read and control minds. This would have been a deadly weapon in the hands of anyone, but it had one drawback which made so only very few could ever wield it; it was four feet tall and weighed a few hundred pounds.

It was designed to be the magnum opus for the Supreme Idea Mechanics In Advanced Neurotechnology, worn by their leader, G.R.O.D.D., famous for his massive head. Minerva circled around the helmet with a scowl, "How are we supposed to get it out of here?"

"Don't cough up a hairball, I got this," Bucky answered with a smirk. He put his finger to his ear, "Sam, how you holding up?"

There was a brief silence before Mirror Move answered over the comms, "Holding the line, boss. Mardon's throwing everything he's got at Thunderman, I think I saw him sweat…once. But the rest of ain't doing crap!" They answered frantically as the sounds of thunder blared through the earpieces.

"Just keep him busy for a little longer. We found the score, we just need to send it to Luthorson. Think you can give us a gateway if I give you the coordinates?" Bucky asked as he blasted a sheet of ice on the wall to serve as their ticket out of there.

"I'll try my best," Mirror Move answered before getting to work.

Just then, Sergeant Speed had finally finished his final spin cycle to break through the ice floors, sending the last chunk of ice plummeting down, crashing at the bottom, and shards of ice going everywhere. Sarge looked at the flamethrower he used to get all the way down here and clicked the trigger a few times. It was out of fuel after so much use. He tossed it aside as he stood before the three villains and his digitized former foe. "It's over, Bucky. Stand down!" He called out, sounding a little winded after everything it took to get down there.

"Velcome back, herr Sergeant, now, it is your turn to DESTROY THEM ALL!" Arnim shouted wrathfully as his remaining operable guns rattled helplessly with empty cartridges.

Sarge looked back at the screen to see Arnim King. He quickly put together that he was the bottom floor's new security system, "Bio-Wave, this is where Fury put you? Another thing I'm gonna have to have a long talk with her about."

Everyone readied themselves for a fight, but Captain Winters seemed especially angry at the fact Sarge knew about Arnim being alive, "You knew this son of a bitch was still around, and when you captured him, you let him live?!" Bucky yelled as he aimed his cannon towards Sarge.

"He deserves to face justice for the crimes he committed. You think that's living? I may not agree with what SHIELD did here on a tactical level, but I have to admit, this seems like justice to me," Sarge defended what he saw as a fitting ironic punishment.

"He's too dangerous to be left alive. You of all people should accept that some people need to die!" Bucky argued back.

Sarge paused for a second, "Maybe, but normal men can't make that call. Surrender, Bucky, and no one else has to get hurt. Despite your assertions, you haven't taken a life today, you can come out of this better than most."

"Nah, if I'm going down, I'm taking at least someone with me," Bucky said before firing his Winter Cannon at the screen. The ice cascaded onto the monitor's form as Arnim's expression was frozen in a look of fear.

"Take this, ya Nazi piker!" Boomerang assisted as he then tossed a boomerang at the frozen computer, shattering it as frosted glass and circuitry fell to the ground.

"No!" shouted Sarge as he dodged the falling glass and ran right towards Bucky. Thor told him to keep it simple, so he was going to punch him right in the face, knock him out, and that'd be that.

"Okay, my turn. You two don't get to have all the fun," Minerva let out a sigh of boredom as she cracked her neck and darted to intercept Sarge's attack.

Sarge knew she was a cut or two above him in terms of speed right now, he couldn't think of some master strategy to make a three-stage assault for everything to go just as he wanted to. But he had other advantages. Thor told him to go for her head, which Sarge initially took as to hit her there, but Thunderman meant to trip her up mentally. And on the run to the Vault, Thor messaged him with a fairly juicy piece of information.

"Minerva, you have another sister," Esteban blurted out as fast as he could.

Upon hearing this news, the Silver Cheetah was reasonably thrown off guard, but just for a second. But it was just long enough for Sergeant Speed to duck down, grab Minerva by the tail, swing her around, and throw her against the wall. His speed may have been dampened, but his strength was not.

The Baron let his boomerangs fly from his hands like he was dealing cards. The real question to be asked was where he was even storing them. Sarge took his helmet off and used it as a shield to swat the oncoming projectiles away. While one strong flick of the wrist, he let the helmet fly, crashing into Boomerang's chest, and bouncing back to Sarge's hand, before promptly returning to his head. "Sorry Harkness, your toys are flashy, but mine's got character," he said with a proud tip of his helmet.

Captain Winters was scrambling to get GRODD's crown to the reflective ice on the wall. He had iced the floor and the wall behind him, and been pushing it across while the others bought him time. "Sam, patch me through, we don't got much time!" He ordered Mirror Move.

"We're getting creamed out here, boss! Burner and Trickster are down, and Mardon's taking a beating, and I'm running on shards," Mirror Move responded, sounding out of breath. They had over-exerted themselves, sending wave after wave of holographic copies to hold off Thunderman's wrath. "I'm not gonna be able to get all of us through."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Bucky asserted.

"This is good for the team, bust us out again when you're with the big leagues. We can wait. What's the next big rule after not killing?" Mirror Move asked rhetorically as they fiddled with their saber, shifting the hilt around to turn it into a pistol of sorts.

"Remember the score," Bucky answered begrudgingly. He hated to abandon his team, but the score, and what it would bring them, came first.

"Good luck, boss." They fired it at one of the remaining chunks of ice left behind. Holding it on the ice, the beam of light bounced around through the Mirror Dimension until it found the two points of contact: A large window on the Legion of Master's ship, and the ice on the Vault's wall. The ice took on an orange tint as it became a portal through space on another dimensional plane.

Sarge had finally shattered his way through Bucky's last line of defense with a barrage of rapid-fire punches. "Just give up, Bucky. It's over."

"It ain't over until I say it is. This giant hat is getting outta here, and you can't do jack about it. Not like you do jack about a lot of stuff, anyway." Bucky retorted as he held his cannon out towards Sarge. He wasn't sure how this was going to go, he was scared, but he was still ready to fight to his last breath to steal that crown.

"Actually, I'll be the one that says it's over," Fury called out as she appeared from the maze on the other side of the room. Getting through all the security systems from the top floor to here had taken a while. She entered with her typical cold self-assurance, and in her hands was a tablet.

"Whatcha got there, Fury? New levels of Candy Blitz come out?" Bucky asked mockingly.

"Actually, it's your friends' lives," Fury answered as she held the screen towards Sergeant Speed and Captain Winters. On it were photos of Flag Burner, Baron Boomerang, Molecule Wizard, Mirror Move, and Batroc the Trickster. Each photo was paired with buttons saying the word, "Detonate".

Baron Boomerang shuddered at the sight of the screen, "Detonate, bloody hell did you do to me?!"

"During your time in SHIELD custody, I had plans to use you for a secret project. It required you under my strict control, so a nano bomb was placed in the base of your skulls to ensure compliance. But it also serves as a hell of a deterrent to prevent escaping, and makes you excellent hostages." Fury explained with a smugness to her. She had them all right where she wanted them.

"Sarge, you better not have known about this too!" Captain Winters shouted with a deep disgust for both him and Fury.

"I swear, I would never have gone along with something so cruel," Sarge answered with a piercing glare towards Fury.

"Don't get high and mighty with me now, Garrick! I'm finally giving these crooks a chance to redeem themselves by working for me! That's what you all care so much about right, redemption? This is just insurance. Now, Captain Barnes, you're going to step away from the mirror portal and turn yourself over to me, or the Rogue Heads will be the Rogue Grey Matter splattered on the walls," Fury threatened with not joy, but satisfaction in knowing she did what she felt had to be done.

Bucky took a deep breath as he weighed his options. He was genuinely considering giving himself up for the sake of his team. But he knew if he complied, there'd be a bomb in his head just like the others, and he couldn't bear to let himself be turned into another human weapon, SHIELD or Hydra. He took one step forward, preparing a surrender.

Unfortunately, Bucky wouldn't get to make his gallant acquiescence, as Minerva had finally come to, took a quick scan of the situation, and immediately darted towards GRODD's crown, kicked it full force on the ice, through the portal, and pushed Bucky in with it. She gave a glance to Fury, who had a look of…well, fury on her face. The Silver Cheetah gave a Cheshire cat smile and raced in after Bucky and the crown.

Sarge stared at the portal, then back at Fury, "This isn't over."

"I'd expect nothing less from you," Fury responded with a hint of contempt. She was weary of the moral high ground the League had lorded over her. She looked to see Baron Boomerang trying to run after them, but she hit a button on her tablet to make the bomb in his head start to beep loudly.

The Baron sheepishly turned around with his hands in the air, "Guess I'm going back to my cell, innit?"

"Boomerangs always come back, don't they?" Fury asked with a smirk.

Sarge bolted through the portal and entered the Mirror Dimension. This was the realm Mirror Move had gained access to after stealing McCulloch's technology. It was a world of chaos and inversion. It was like running through a grocery store, but the aisles were previews into the world beyond every reflective surface in the world. So many bathrooms, so many highways, and so many freshly waxed floors, and all of it was ever so slightly peering into this realm. It was disorienting to navigate, to say the least. It reminded Sarge of the Speed Force, and that brought many unwelcome feelings with it.

Sarge looked around to find the fleeing Minerva and Bucky with the crown, but it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Luckily, it ended up being a very small haystack, as the orange beam created by Mirror Move created a direct link between the entrance and the desired exit. He could see the two following the path designated for them. Minerva was pushing the crown across it, as Bucky fired an ice path in front of it while inside it like a big sled.

Sergeant Speed made a quick chase after them, shutting his eyes to try and ignore the onslaught of reality leaking around him. He just kept running forward, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't catch up. He could see the exit portal just up ahead, but there was no way he could intercept them.

Sarge wasn't even sure what the plan was, but he knew that GRODD's crown would've been important. So, he kept it simple. He took off his helmet, put all his strength into a superpowered throw, and let it fly straight towards where he knew they were going to go. It cascaded through the air and slammed into not the crown, but Bucky's shoulder. It caused his arm cannon to flinch down, firing ice into the massive helm, and freezing up the circuitry right before they escaped into the portal at the other end. It wasn't much, but it would slow them down.

After doing everything he could do, Sarge's next goal was escaping the Mirror Dimension. But to his horror, the path created by Mirror Move was gone. Unbeknownst to Sarge, at the worst possible time, Thor had finally done them in, incapacitating Mirror Move, and preventing them from maintaining the portals. And without a conduit, he would have been unable to escape. Sarge would try to find the various mirrors around the realm to escape through, but he lacked the ability to phase through the dimensional planes. For a few seconds, any one person could look at their mirror, and see a red streak flash past it with no source, but that'd be all they'd see.

He helplessly bounced around like a pinball, beginning to panic over being trapped in another world. Sarge didn't know how time worked in the Mirror Dimension. For all he knew, every second untethered was 37 years. Esteban was petrified at the thought of losing all that time all over again, losing all the people again, losing the identity he had again made for himself, and being forgotten.

But as Esteban's mind raced towards hopelessness, he could see a lime green light. A straight line, bouncing through all the different mirrors he could see. The beam ricocheted around until it homed in on Sergeant Speed himself. The end of the beam turned into a hand, open for the taking. Esteban recognized the construct and took it. And in seconds, the bright green recoiled, zipping all around the Mirror Dimension until it dragged Esteban through the mirror it first emerged from; a magic mirror in the Tower of Fate.

With one hard tug, the hand forced Esteban through the mirror, and back to the real world. Esteban got to his feet and looked at the savior that stood before him. It was Jessica Maximoff, the Emerald Witch back in tip-top shape. The construct of the hand dissipated as she gave the Sergeant a kind smile.

"Jessica, what year is it?" Sarge asked, just as a sanity check.

"2023, don't worry. You're good, Sarge. Lucky I found you," she answered as she looked at her ring, glowing solely with her own green energy.

Esteban quickly dashed forward to hug Jessica. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing he didn't lose any time. "Thank you."

Jessica hugged back, understanding the Sergeant's mental health struggles better than most of the League. "You're alright, Sergeant. Just take a minute, and let yourself unwind." As she spoke, she used her ring to make a construct of a bean bag chair. She then let Esteban drop into it when he was ready. "Anyway, I wanted to discuss coming back to work. I think I'm finally ready to rejoin the League."

Chapter 29: Tempting Fate

Since the daring rescue from the Mirror Dimension, the Emerald Witch had brought Sergeant Speed to a quaint little spot in the Tower by a window. There were a few chairs and a table positioned there, and the entire Tower was noticeably better kempt than before. After she met with the Madame, Jessica started taking better care of herself. When faced with the many possibilities of the kind of person one could be, Jessica made the effort to do whatever she could to be the best version of herself.

"How'd you even find me?" Sarge asked.

"The mirror was a gift from Diana, a trophy from one of her villains who also used the Mirror Dimension. I was about to use it for another training exercise, but I saw a little red speck dashing around in there. Since my constructs are made of light, I could send it in to get you, no issue." Jessica explained with a smirk. She was proud of herself for being able to pull off something of this nature.

"Well, thanks again for the save, Jess." Sarge was still coming back down from all the stress he had to deal with. He was happy to just sit down for a moment.

The two heroes took their seats at the window, Sarge took a few minutes to catch Jessica up on everything that happened during the Iron Vault raid. Afterward, he was observing the area with a slight sense of pride. "I like what you've done with the place, feels more like home," he commented before staring over at a small display case at the center of the room. It contained the Helm of Iscariot.

"It seemed like a good time to get my act together. My new training has helped me a lot with controlling my ring again," Jessica said with a new degree of confidence. "and I feel ready to go back into the world, and be the hero my father would want me to be."

As they spoke, Jessica began using her ring to summon the constructs of two translucent, green tea cups and a teapot. She waved her fingers around as her ring let off a warm glow, and the teapot levitated off the table and poured the construct of tea into the cup closer to Sarge. "Sorry, I only have green tea. I know you're typically a chamomile person," she said sweetly before pouring into her own cup.

Sarge gave the witch a look before briefly humoring her and taking his cup. He took a sip of what he assumed would be essentially a hologram, but to his shock, there was real, drinkable tea in that cup. It was even quite good. On his face was a look of befuddlement, but he chalked it up to her powers growing beyond his understanding. He didn't wish to trifle with the nuanced mechanics of magic. But part of Jessica's wording got Esteban curious, "Is that the only reason to want to be a hero, Jessica; because Erik was?" He asked, glancing back again towards the Helm. "Why do you want this life?"

That question made her pause, she thought back on all the different versions of her life she saw in the Web of Xanadu. "No, of course not. I've had the chance to reflect on the kind of person I want to be. I've been given the power and potential to do so much, be it good or bad. I don't want to be the kind of person who lets power corrupt them. Power only corrupts when it's left to stagnate, to fester. I've got to let myself grow and change, so it can change with me. I have to keep moving, and the best way to do that is to use my power for the benefit of others." Jessica knew the best and worst of what she could become, and what she could do to get there. So her choices were meant to help her be as close as she could to the Green Lantern. "It sounds counterintuitive, but I need the chaos of this life to keep me sane."

"This life, this job, it calls for a lot of responsibility. It…takes a lot out of you. The League needs people they can rely on, I want to know if I can rely on you, Jess," Sarge answered as he looked into her emerald green eyes. He saw the eyes of a person who the world loved to beat down, to make them feel unwanted, to hurt. He saw her father's eyes; the boy he wished he could've saved.

"I'm not the same scared kid I was back then, Esteban. I know that when I go out to save someone, they may look at my magic and think me a horrible witch. No matter what I do, the darkness of what I've lived through still lies within me. I cannot control their fears, but I can control my own." Jessica stared at her ring and clenched her fist. "I can show them my light, that no matter what I end up creating with my magic, I use it to help them. I want to make them feel as safe as you all make me feel."

Sarge was proud of Jessica. He took another sip of his tea, still shocked at how good it was. "I trust you, kid. I just wanted to make sure you're doing this for the right reasons. It's been a long day for me, and I've been having some second thoughts myself.

"Right, you saw Minerva today. How was she?" Jessica asked, concerned for her sister, even though she knew there was nothing she could do.

"Cold and ruthless, but that's not really a change. She took a man's arm off, but she didn't kill anyone this time. I guess if she was teamed up with anyone, I'm glad it was Bucky," Sarge commented with a sigh. He did the best he could, but Bucky and Minerva still got away with GRODD's crown, and people still got hurt, even if they survived.

"Do you think Loxxi treats her well? She's stuck around with them this long for a reason," Jessica pondered. "Do you think if I was a better sister, I could've gotten her to stay and get help?" She'd then realized the gravity behind what she just said, "Sorry, that was the anxiety talking. I'm better, but it's still there."

"It's fine, Jess. Forget about it. I think Loxxi Luthorson uses vulnerable people like Minerva to mold into a makeshift family to help him ignore how lonely he truly is. Minerva sticks around because the Silver Cheetah needs men's blood to survive, and he can provide that for the beast. It's purely transactional. Everything with Loxxi is transactional." Sarge analyzed coldly. He had very little respect for Luthorson as anything beyond a tyrannical crook. "As for you, there's nothing you could have done to keep her. She has anger towards so many people, guided by so much rage and hate. We'd all love to have her back, but your sister is too far gone."

"That's another reason why I want to come back. I'm the last of my family left. Mom would've just wanted me to be happy, Dad was too far gone to care. Everybody's "too far gone." I want to take control of my own life and live it for myself and the people I love who can't." Jessica elaborated as she looked past Sarge.

Invisible to Sergeant Speed, Khlarion was sitting in his wheelchair with tented fingers, observing the conversation. He also wanted Jessica to get back on the League, and become a stronger hero and person. There were other motives for this, of course, but he still believed it'd be good for her. The boy gave an inquisitive look towards Sergeant Speed, he somewhat respected him. He was a victim of some of the most arbitrary chaos he'd ever seen inflicted on a person, but he lives on despite it and keeps moving forward.

"Jessica, don't do this because you feel like you owe other people for living. You gotta live for yourself," Esteban said, repeating the stuff he was told in therapy.

"You would know the feeling, wouldn't you?" Jessica acknowledged. "But I'm doing this for me I don't want to live in fear anymore, I want to live in love."

That final line was enough to win Sarge over. "Atta-girl," he said as he stood up to give Jessica a prideful pat on the shoulder. "You got my support, kid, and I think the rest of the League will too. We just need three more of us to sign off to make it official."

Jessica smiled as she stood up to hug Esteban. "Thanks, Sarge. It'll feel good to get back out there." She then looked closer at his face. He was still pretty beat up, but he seemed a little more at peace than usual. "You look good by the way, taking your meds?"

"Yeah, Thor harped on me about that earlier. Helps with staying in the moment, I guess." Sarge answered as he took off his helmet to briefly wipe off some dust and remaining debris stuck on it.

"So, how'd you beat my sister if you were slower than her?" Jessica asked curiously.

"Well, I'm still stronger than her, and I threw her off guard when I told her about her sister," Sarge answered offhandedly.

"What about me?" Jessica asked confused.

"No, not you, I meant…wait, you don't know?" Sarge asked, just as confused. Thor told him that he was tasked with telling Jessica about Lorna.

Jessica quickly looked over to where Khlarion was secretly sitting, but the boy in the wheelchair was gone, even from her view. She tilted her head as her mind paranoiacally went to the worst possibility. She felt she'd been lied to, kept away from valuable information because she couldn't be trusted. "I had another family member, the League knew, and they kept it from me?" The Emerald Witch's eyes glowed an eerie emerald green as her ring flickered with power.

Sarge noticed her shift in demeanor, but he remained calm. Things would only escalate if he reacted rashly. She could be volatile in her emotions at times, but Esteban still trusted that she'd never hurt him. "Look, Jess. I can explain this. Matt had dealt with someone trying to steal Erik's helmet from the museum, they had his magnetism powers and claimed she was his daughter. He kept that from us for a few days, some stuff happened at the Asylum with her, so he finally told Diana and Thor. Thor told me, and he was supposed to tell you, but I guess he didn't. That's all, no conspiracy against you. Sorry that we didn't tell you sooner. I just learned myself, today." He spoke quickly, but clearly. Esteban wanted her to understand everything as quickly as possible so that she could think rationally.

To no one's surprise, treating someone with respect, being honest, explaining thoroughly, and remaining calm was the best way to clear up a misunderstanding and keep all parties with cool heads. Jessica's glows fizzled out as she took a deep breath. "Right, I trust you. Just sucks to be kept out of the loop on something like this." She said with a bemused expression on her face.

"Yeah, well you know how Blind Bat can be. We're gonna deal with him later. I'm surprised that Thor didn't tell you yet, though." Sarge commented as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think I was out of the Tower when Thor would've come by to tell me. I was out for something part of my training, though I'm not sure how long I'll be working with my current teacher." Jessica was staying calm for Esteban, but inside, she was thinking a lot of angry thoughts about Khlarion, who would have very likely known about Lorna for a lot longer and had never told her. But she was going to deal with him later.

Unbeknownst to these thoughts, Esteban just seemed elated that Jessica had already left the Tower. "You went outside? That's great! I had almost forgotten about that. Would've made being a superhero again difficult if you were still agoraphobic, wouldn't it?" He joked, but he was proud of her.

While Jessica hadn't exactly overcome that hurdle on her own, it was still a breakthrough, and she was going to keep working on her anxieties about the outside world. This was just how she was going to do it. "Yeah, stuff has changed."

"If you don't mind me asking, who has been training you this past week or so? It'd be nice to know the guy who's been pushing you along." Esteban asked, sounding like a proud family member hearing about the kid's success in school.

Jessica's eyes briefly shifted back and forth. She knew how it would sound if she said it was the Fatal Compass's sworn enemy training her. On the other hand, she couldn't just lie to Sarge. "It's someone who was really close with Dad. He's strange, but he's been helpful despite some hiccups. That's really all I want to say about him."

Sarge tipped his helmet up upon hearing her answer, "Strange, huh? I think I've met the guy before. Makes sense he of all people is training you with the ring. I'll trust he knows what he's doing. Now, let's get to the Watchtower and get you reinstated." He said as he fiddled through his pocket sot get his ID card.

When he eventually found it, it was revealed to be still transmuted into a simple playing card as a result of Molecule Wizard's spell, much to Esteban's chagrin. "Fantastico," he said sarcastically. "You wouldn't happen to have yours, would you?"

Jessica seemed to space out for a second as she thought about where she would've put it. When she was cleaning up the Tower, a lot of things were shuffled around. Her eyes went wide when she realized she had no clue where it would have ended up.

"I'll take your silence as a no," Sarge commented as he groaned.

"Hold on, I got an idea. I just hope his super-hearing is working right." Jessica said, poking her head out the window. She manifested a construct of a megaphone from her ring and held it to her mouth. She took a deep inhale and yelled, "THOR-EL! GET OVER HERE!" She sounded angry, but she wasn't. She just thought it would get him to come faster.

Dark clouds had rolled in within about 30 seconds, and with a flash of lightning and a boom of thunder, Thunderman stood hovering outside her window. He flashed her a goofy grin as he flew through the window. "You pulled out the full name, how imposing," Thor boomed with a chuckle. "Sorry it took me so long, cat in a tree on the way."

Jessica giggled and gave Thor a playful punch in the arm, "Good to see you, big guy."

"And I, you, Jessica. It's good to see you in higher spirits. I take it the Sergeant has filled you in on some news before I had the chance. Sorry I could not tell you myself, you were, to my surprise and delight, not home!" Thor explained.

"You weren't worried I was kidnapped or something?" Jessica asked with a tilt of her head.

"Nay, if you were kidnapped by anyone, I'd be worried for them," Thor answered with a laugh.

"Anyway, we need to get to the Watchtower to reinstate Jessica's field status, and I think we'll both need new ID cards unless you still got Mardon's wand," Sarge explained, dashing up next to Thor.

"Actually, I do," Thor said, taking the wand from a pocket in his cape. "Something tells me the spirit within will not obey your commands, though. I was actually going to leave the wizard's wand here. I cannot think of any place more secure, now that I know Loxxi can invade my Fortress." He handed the Molecule Wizard's wand off to Jessica.

Jessica looked at the wand uneasily. She knew what her father did to make it, even if he was so young. She also wasn't too keen on having it in a place easily accessible by Khlarion. Even if he was on her "side", he was still a being of pure chaos who could commit untold shenanigans with something of that power. "How about we just leave it at the Watchtower."

"Aye, fair enough," Thor responded as he put the wand away, "As for your reinstatement, Sarge, how about you take my card and get up there, Assemble who you can for a vote. Shouldn't be an issue. I just have to talk to Jessica about the rest of the situation with Lorna." His demeanor turned a little somber and more serious.

Sarge took Thor's card and gave him a strange look, "Shouldn't I be here for this too?"

"I'll tell you when we tell the rest of the League. This is just…a personal matter that I should tell her by myself. I'm sure you understand," Thor explained with a worn expression on his face. That was the face Thor had whenever he would talk about his relationship with his brother.

Sarge put two and two together, "Yeah, I do. I'll come back in ten with the new ID cards, and we can put her reinstatement to a vote."

"That should be fine. Thank you, Esteban." Thor gave Sarge a warm smile.

"Good luck, Thor," Esteban responded before pressing the button on Thor's card, "Stark, it's Garrick. Borrowing Thor's card, beam me up." With a flash of light, Sergeant Speed has dissipated from the room.

Jessica looked at Thor with a worried expression, "So, I'm guessing this won't be a fun conversation. What's wrong with her?"

Thor looked at Jessica and sighed. He took his hammer from his belt and slammed the pommel of the handle on the ground. A bolt of lightning struck through the window onto him as he transformed back into his mortal form of Donald Kent. "Probably not, take a seat, Jess." He said in a soft-spoken voice as he leaned his walking stick against the table and sat down in the chair.

Donald Kent was, in most senses of identity, the same as Thor, but the man he would be without immortality. He was without the bravado, glamour, and power of the Asgardian god. But beneath that, he was still the decent, kind man who understood what having a family with a broad range of morality can do to a person. He became Donald when he needed to be "real" with someone.

Jessica understood this layer of Thunderman's personality. "Oh god, she's another supervillain, isn't she? Is it that bad?" She asked with a tremble in her voice. She could not handle another family member on the dark side.

"No, she's not. Calm down. But, it is complicated." Donald coaxed. "She does have powers, similar but different from your father. She was using them to help Matt defend the Asylum. Purple Joker had escaped and was going to kill a lot of people to keep Matt and Tim at bay."

"Oh no, are they okay?" Jessica asked, concerned.

"Yes, because of your sister. Her name is Lorna. She took action and sent her sword into Joker's heart. Matt said that she seemed to have done it in the past. Your sister saved lives, but she is also a killer, Jessica. " Donald explained gently, and calmly. He wanted to break this to her as smoothly as possible so she could process this easily.

Jessica leaned back into her chair upon hearing the news. "Well, that could have been a lot worse. I've seen worse…" she said quietly.

"I know, this job requires a lot of really tough decisions. Whether or not we need to take a life is one of them. Most of the time, it is a hard no. We do everything we can to save everyone. I do it because I can. Diana does it because she wants to. Matt does it because he has to." Donald paused, "But there are those extremely rare cases where, sometimes you do have to kill. I don't know whether this was one of those times, but I want you to be prepared for whenever you do wish to meet her."

"I get that, I do. I can't judge her until I've met her. Dad killed monsters and demons all the time. Joker was a monster, everything he did to those poor women. It's good that he's gone. Matt's gotta be in rough shape, though." Jessica rambled a bit, staring at the construct of a teacup on the table.

She then returned to meet Donald's gaze. "Thor…Don, do you think my family's cursed?"

Donald adjusted his glasses, a kind of nervous tick, "How do you mean?"

"All of us walk with death in our shadow. Dad grew up with bloodshed, he was desensitized to it. I avoid it, but I know I can. Minerva enjoys it, and now I know there's another killer in the family. What do I do, knowing that she could be a weapon of mass destruction, just like me? Is there a way to save her from becoming like Minerva?" Jessica asked with a look of dread crossing her face.

Donald reached his hand across the table and grasped hers. "One, you're not a weapon. As for Lorna, I don't know for certain. If I knew how to sway someone from the dark side, I would've done it with Loxxi a long time ago." He laughed despite himself.

"Is there anything I could do?" Jessica reiterated.

"We're keeping tabs on her for now, and we'll have you meet her yourself when you're ready. Based on what Matt has told us, she's alone, very angry at the world, and at us for what happened to Erik, but also very scared. But she's not alone, you know how all of that feels. Show her that you understand, and help her not fall any further. Think about what's kept you grounded, help give her a reason to stay, relatively speaking, good." Donald advised with a slight smirk.

"And if I can't, what do I do? By extension, what do I do if I see Minerva? What do you plan to do with Loxxi?" Jessica asked in succession. She really didn't want the answer to end up being, "kill them."

Donald removed his glasses and set them on the table. "Family makes things very complicated. You so desperately want them to understand you, so you can have a relationship with them, so you can love them," he said with a sigh. "But, sometimes you can't. You can give them all the chances in the world, and they'll never change. They weaponize your love against you, and it destroys you. You might have to accept that they are lost and will never be better, and you cut them out of your heart. It hurts, but it's good for you. I'm not saying you have to, but be prepared to do it."

Jessica absorbed what Donald said, thinking hard about whether she had the strength to do what he said if she needed to. "I don't want to be the sole member of my family."

"You shouldn't have to. I have hope that you will come together and be proper sisters." Donald said optimistically.

"You really think so?" Jessica asked.

"If I can't hope for a better tomorrow, and give that to others, then what am I even doing here?" Donald asked rhetorically as he stood up from his chair and grabbed his walking stick. He struck it against the floor, the lightning zapped him again, and Thunderman returned.

Jessica left her seat and hugged Thor, "Thanks for the talk."

"Anytime, my friend. I will always be around when I am needed. Because that's what heroes do." Thor responded, hugging her back with one arm, which was more than enough.

Soon after, Sergeant Speed was teleported back into the Tower of Fate. "Hola, compadres. Got a new card, and we called a meeting to get as many of us as we can to vote on Jessica's reinstatement."

"Alright, let us go!" Thor cheered, taking back his ID card and pressing the button to ping Cyberman to call them back to the Watchtower. Sarge did the same, and as Thor was holding onto Jessica, all three of them disappeared from the Tower of Fate and reappeared 22,300 miles above the Earth.

In the Watchtower, Cyberman stood at the wall of monitors observing hundreds of locations across the world. His connection to the internet extended to being able to see through every camera on a public network. This allowed him to achieve near-perfect surveillance. Stark could tap into private networks and personal devices if he truly wanted to, and sometimes he was tempted to, but the League forbid him from crossing that line.

He was flipping through different feeds on the monitors like flipping through channels on a television. Some of them were on regular digital screens, but some were emanating as holograms from various projectors on Stark's body. Anything of little note, he would manually swipe away with his hand or tap a few buttons on his arm to summon police to that location.

Most of the feeds he was observing were fairly quiet. Either no major crime was happening, or it was minimal to the point local or federal law enforcement could handle it on their own. Throughout the day, anything that wasn't, he would either send one of the other League members to handle or go down to handle it himself. Today, there were a few scratches and dents on his armor that weren't there yesterday.

"G.R.I.D. what's the situation in Goth's Kitchen? I haven't heard from Bats in a bit," Victor asked his internal artificial intelligence.

The main holographic projection Stark was viewing showed the Blind Bat fighting a massive lizard man with batlike wings. That was Doctor Curtis Langstrom, the Wyvern. Langstrom was one of the several escapees from Ryker's Asylum who slipped away quietly during the chaos. How that thing slipped away quietly from anything is beyond my purview. But right now, Victor was observing the Wyvern dragging the Blind Bat up the side of a building before the Bat took what appeared to be an aerosol can from his utility belt and sprayed the reptilian crypto-biologist with it. As the monster plummeted to the ground below with the Blind Bat still in his talons, Cyberman switched away to a different screen. "Seems like he's busy. That guy's always busy," he commented to himself with a sneer.

"Alright, show me Qurac," Cyberman instructed his AI as he put his hand to his head. It was a calculated move to send Wonder Crystal there, as she was the best at easing tension with her diplomatic status. She had been sent there as a third party to mediate political discussions with United Nations ambassadors. Tensions were always going to be high in that part of the world, but the League was there if they needed to put out any fires.

As for the results of this conference, things on the discussion side were actually going quite well. The real hiccup in the ordeal was that Diana was currently engaged in a battle against a pyrokinetic cult leader named Jalila Taha Zara, otherwise known as the Priestess of Crimson Hellfire, alongside a small band of flamethrower-wielding cronies. As they were trying to burn down an embassy, Diana was hurling water at the blazes while also trying to trap them all in tombs made of earth she pulled from the ground. "I'll check back on that later. She'll probably be fine."

Victor shifted his focus to a few different scenes around the world. Aside from the fiasco at the Iron Vault, today was mostly a slow day. He was diverting some of his focus to try and find the headquarters of the Legion of Masters. But with not having any clue what to look for, and there not being a lot of cameras out in the middle of the ocean, he was not having much luck.

He let out an annoyed groan as he got a ping in his heads-up display, calling for acceptance to teleport onto the Watchtower from Sergeant Speed and Thunderman. He knew that Sarge wanted to call a vote to reinstate Emerald Witch for active duty. He was not on board for it, but he accepted the teleport requests so they could constructively discuss this matter.

Sarge, Thor, and Jessica appeared on the teleportation pad in the center of the meeting table. Jessica looked to Vic and gave a sheepish wave, "Hey Victor."

"Hey Jess, out of the house, I see," Victor commented as he closed all his holographic displays and turned away from the monitors. He noticed a higher level of mystical energy emanating from her than before. He realized that she had gotten a lot stronger, "You're looking…brighter."

Sarge looked around the room, not seeing any other Leaguers besides the four of them. "Where is everyone, Stark? We need over half the team here to call the vote." With seven current active members, they needed four votes to secure Jessica's return to active duty.

"Matt and Diana are indisposed, Sarge. And nobody else returned my calls. We'll see if anyone else gets here so we can make things official, but I want to say my piece with just the three of us," Stark answered sternly as he walked over to the table, and took a seat in the chair with his logo engraved on the back.

Thor looked to Victor, then back at Jessica, "Right, how about you go take a seat in the break room, Jessica? We'll call you in when we're done."

"Anything he has to say about me he can say to my face, Thor," Jessica responded as she stared at Cyberman. She then took her seat at the table. Sarge and Thor followed suit soon after.

"I get you have concerns with Jessica coming back, Stark. But I think her return will be really good for her. It's important that she get back in the field and get some experience." Sarge explained confidently.

"What's good for her isn't really my concern, Speedy. It's what's good for the team, and the world." Cyberman never fully trusted the Emerald Witch, or magic in general. He was a man of science, physically and principally. Victor was apprehensive of anything he could not understand and control. There wasn't a latent fear of it like Matt, he just didn't like it. "Magic is too much of a wild card, and we got things covered with Captain Gamma on that front."

"Even so, it's always a benefit to have extra hands on deck. We're spread thin as it is," Thor interjected.

"We need steady hands, Thor! We're saving the world down there, and we need people that the people can trust to save them.." As for Jessica herself, Vic saw her as someone who had no business being a superhero. To him, "She is emotionally unstable, extremely volatile, and likely to crack under pressure. Additionally, her constructs have a trend of creating monsters that scare the very people they were meant to protect. Jessica, I'm sorry, but you are a liability."

"Woah, that's a shade too far, Stark!" Sarge called out protectively. "Cool your jets."

"I'm just being honest, Sarge. Someone has to look out for the League's reputation."

Jessica was taken aback by his remarks, but she wasn't surprised. "I know you've never been too keen on me, Victor. But I'm better than I was before. I'll do my father proud."

"We have faith in her, Victor, the same faith we had in you when you first came to us. She deserves another shot back with us." Thor proclaimed.

To Stark, "The League of Marvelous Individuals," a team he felt he should have some heavy influence over due to paying for everything and managing most of the logistics, "should not have someone who could be bad optics for the team's worldwide perception. I know that the sentiment sounds very corporate, but the world looks to us as paragons of virtue and safety. We should assure them that they would be safe with us on the scene. With what she can do, and how she is, I don't feel safe with her in this room." Victor believed that her presence on the team would hamper its reputation. But despite his reasonable concerns, he knew he would be overlooked because that's what always happened to him.

"It shouldn't matter how they see us, what matters is our actions. The people that we save, any surface-level fears go out the window. You let yourself be clouded by vanity," Sarge chastised.

"That may've been how it used to be, maybe how it should be, but it's not. People are fickle, and the fickle aren't very smart. We have to adapt to how things are now. And that means we have to protect them from the bad guys as much as we need to protect them from themselves!" Vic said passionately, slamming his iron fist down on the table.

Thor and Sarge exchanged glances, they were both considerably put off by his language. Jessica saw Victor as one bad day from becoming a tyrannical supervillain. All three of them knew he could do it if he wanted to. Perhaps they had been focusing on the wrong person to make sure not to set off. Stark had been making questionable choices for a while now, and he was starting to worry the other Leaguers.

"Victor, are you alright?" Thunderman asked with a concerned expression.

"I'm fine, Thor. It's just frustrating when we're not on the same page." Perhaps there was a twinge of jealousy in the cyborg's arc reactor heart. He was a young man who had a, to put it shortly, strained relationship with his father. When he was turned into the Cyberman, he felt very alone and ostracized for what he had become. When he first saw the original seven members of the Avengers of Justice team up to save the world from Loxxi Luthorson and the invasion of Paratauri, he saw people like him, a place he could belong.

So he did everything he could to be a part of that world, build that world for them, and make the world he lived in a better place for them. But despite his efforts, he was often regarded as cold, soulless, and someone who didn't value what it meant to be a superhero. It made him feel less human. Maybe that was true, but he still felt he was owed better, and even amongst peers, he felt lonely. "I've made my case, put that in your pipe and smoke it."

Jessica slouched into her chair. She was uneased by Cyberman's near-contempt for humanity. But at the same time, we understood that there was a darkness within some people that builds the fear he speaks of. She almost respected his fervor because of his intentions. "I don't want to scare people, and I'll do my best so that I don't."

"She's gonna be fine, Stark. She's been training under Strange this whole time. If anyone can teach her how to master the ring, it's him," Esteban vouched. His defense brought a strange look from Jessica.

"Stewart Strange? He's not bad," Victor agreed. It had occurred to Jessica that Sergeant Speed had misunderstood her remark at calling Khlarion strange as saying her teacher was Stewart Strange; a prominent sorcerer from the Green Mystics Coven known as Doctor Evergreen. She wanted to correct them, but after Victor's blow-up, she didn't want to ruin her chances.

Just then, the main console for the teleporter pinged, requesting access to the Watchtower. A voice chimed over the speaker, "Hey, Vic? It's Billy. Can you beam me up? There's something I want to talk about with you." The voice requested.

"Just a sec," Vic said to the other Leaguers before going to the console and accepting Billy Banner's teleportation request, and bringing him onboard.

The boy appeared in the middle of the table like everyone else. His hair was quite messy today, and his raggedy purple hoodie had what seemed to be a relish stain on it. In his hand was a sheet of paper. Billy around to see Thor and Sarge, "Oh, hey Sarge, hi Don."

His attention then diverted to Jessica, "Jess!" Billy pocketed the paper and jumped off the table and ran up to hug Jessica, lifting her out of her seat. Even without the Hulk powers, he was still a pretty strong kid. "I can't believe you're here!"

Jessica hugged him back, "Hey Billy, good to see you. Thanks again for the pep talk from a few days ago, I don't think I'd be here without you."

"Always got your back," Billy said setting her down and turning to face the others, "Sorry it took me a bit to get up here. I was uh…doesn't matter. Are we voting to reinstate Jess back on the team?"

"Right, yeah. You got here just in time. We need over half the team here, and with Matt and Diana busy, the only people to call were you and-" Victor answered before he felt the tap of a spear on his shoulder from behind him. Cyberman let a startled yelp as he dashed forward a few feet with some repulsor flight stabilizers on his back. He turned around to see the sneaker was just Black Orca with his spear.

"T'Kurri, how long have you been here?" Sarge asked, baffled by his presence.

"I was here when you were up here the first time to get your card fixed. I decided to stay quiet and observe your discussion without my involvement. I felt this was wise to help me come to an impartial decision," T'kurri explained. "As for my ambush, I merely thought it would be humorous to try. It was."

"Alright, well that's five, that should give you enough people to vote you back in, Jessica. But let's make it official," Sarge said before he looked to Thor to call the real vote. This responsibility seemed to only fall on him because of his hammer acting as a pseudo-gavel.

"Very well, on the matter of Jessica Maximoff's status, I call for a reinstatement of her field duty status," Thor called out in his booming voice.

"Seconded," Sarge agreed. "All in favor of her reinstatement, say aye."

Thor, Sarge, and Billy all immediately said "Aye" in response.

"Opposed?" Sarge asked, looking a bit nervous.

"Nay," T'Kurri answered with a raise of his hand. "I was listening to Victor's argument, and while I have my own reservations against his philosophy, I think he makes some compelling points against Jessica being back on the team."

"Kurri, what the hell?" Billy asked, confused and frustrated. He was almost tempted to call upon SHAHULK in this predicament.

"It is nothing personal Jessica. You are certainly capable of fulfilling your duties, but I worry for your safety given how many of our foes, particularly those being recruited for Loxxi's Legion, can turn fear against you. I just don't want you in a system that would make you vulnerable." T'Kurri elaborated calmly and respectfully. He was always cordial when it came to talking to anybody off the battlefield. He treated everyone he knew with great dignity.

"She's in good hands, T'Kurri. I trust Doctor Evergreen's judgment, and if he thinks her training has let her be someone we can rely on, I'll trust that." Sarge asserted.

"Wait, Strange is the one training you? I love that guy!" Billy exclaimed. "Me, him, Namor, and the Martian dealt with an invasion together a few years back. He's a good dude."

All the while, Victor had abstained from answering. The reactions of distaste from his coworkers had made him want to reevaluate how he ran these situations, and he wanted to know if giving Jessica another shot right now because of everything they were saying about Strange would pay off. "Just tell me, Jessica, are you in good hands with Strange guiding you?" Victor asked with a worn expression on his face.

Jessica's face grew cold. She didn't know what to do. Either she said Strange wasn't teaching her, lose the credibility of the team, while she was explaining everything about Khlarion. But she also did not want to lie, at least not directly. She just needed to get back on the team, and once she was at full power and fighting alongside the rest of them in the never-ending battle, she would tell them the truth, and hopefully they could take down the beast by the end of the year. So she came to a middle ground she could accept.

"Yeah, I'm in good hands, Stark. I'll be fine." Jessica answered, with a twinge of guilt in the back of her throat.

"Alright, don't prove me wrong, Jess. I'm an aye," Vic said raising his hand in the air.

"Fantastic, with 4 votes for, 1 vote against, and 2 unavailable, this sets Jessica to be reinstated for active duty. She'll need a new card so she can get around. Subject adjourned!" Thor called out before hitting the head of his hammer against the desk, causing a few sparks to fly.

And just like that, the Emerald Witch was an active member of the League of Marvelous Individuals. Jessica felt guilty for omitting such a key portion of the truth, but she felt she did what she had to do to try and do more good with the world she was dealing with. At this point, nobody knew who her real teacher was, but they would find out, and she was terrified of all of that blowing up in her face. Jessica's plan of action now was just using the opportunity she got to do as much good as she could so that maybe her lie of omission wouldn't matter. But overall, this was just a dangerous case of

Tempting Fate.

Chapter 30: A Scheme Remastered

Meanwhile, at the S.S. Doom, the tinted glass of the left porthole rippled as the Silver Cheetah and Captain Winters, riding in the upturned crown of GRODD, shot out of the Mirror Dimension. Standing on the other side were Loxxi Luthorson, Toymandarin, Yon Sinestro, Ms. Gigantic, and Mr. Scary.

Kamala was the first to run over to the duo. She grew a little larger to help pick Bucky up and out of the massive helmet. "Are you guys alright? What was it like in the Iron Vault? Did you fight Sergeant Speed? How was the Mirror Dimension? I have, a LOT of questions," she asked with a giddiness to her curiosity.

"Gigantic, cease your yammering, please," Sinestro butted in, rubbing his head. "I don't want to, but I'll keep you quiet my way if I have to." He was threatening to restore Kamala of her fears, those which held her back from being comfortable on the part of this team.

Kamala figuratively and literally shrunk back away from them upon that remark, "Right, sorry. Good to see you're alright, Minerva."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Good to see you too, kid," she said, patting Kamala on the shoulder.

Bucky looked at Minerva as he shifted his cannon arm back to his normal hand. He was ready to surrender to Fury to ensure his crew were safe. But she kept him from making that choice. He didn't know whether to be enraged or grateful.

Loxxi flashed a satisfied grin as he saw they had returned with the package, "Minnie, Leonard, welcome back! It's good to see you're all in one piece. You've brought us one step closer to our perfect world." The God of Today was jovial at the sight of GRODD's crown.

"Kamala, be a dear and carry it over to the workshop," he requested as he approached Captain Winters. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

Kamala embiggened her arms and legs to get a good grip on the crown. She raised it, but then she looked inside to see all the ice and frostbitten circuitry. "Ummm, Loxxi?" She stretched her arms to carry it over so he could see inside the crown himself.

Loxxi's smile faded to a grimace. His hand gripped hard on Bucky's shoulder and turned to a harsh squeeze. He conjured a knife in his hand and held it to Captain Winters' throat, "What the hell did you do?! Are you trying to sabotage us, you two-bit, blue-collar, sorry excuse for a thief?" His voice took on a deep growl as he berated him.

Silver Cheetah surprisingly came to his rescue and broke the two of them up. "Loxx, relax. Sarge took his helmet to his arm, and it was a misfire while we were transporting. It wasn't his fault."

Loxxi removed himself from Barnes' shoulder and dissipated his knife, "Very well, but this is a massive setback. Toymandarin, what can you do about this?"

Winwu approached the helmet as Kamala lowered it so the boy could peer inside, "I've seen worse, but if we're going to trade this to SIMIAN, I'll need my other rings to fix it."

"Alright, what's another invasion of a secure facility, clashing with more heroes with a greater chance for failure? Sure! Why not?" Loxxi said, throwing his hands in the air.

"I'll see what I can do at this time. Stretch, do you mind?" Winwu asked, looking up at Kamala before scurrying over to the workshop area. The giantess carried the crown, stepping over him as she walked.

Mr. Scary turned to Sinestro, "Do you think he's losing it," he asked in a whisper. After seeing what he did to Nygma, Crane didn't want to risk it.

"I wouldn't rule out the possibility," Sinestro replied at a normal volume with a smirk. He was not afraid of Loxxi's power, his ring was on a similar power level as his magic. Sinestro was only here because he wanted to be here, and found Loxxi's rage funny.

"Ignoring the elephant's hat in the room, what are we gonna do about my crew? Fury's putting bombs in crooks' heads now. I had to leave'em behind so they wouldn't go 'BLAM!' How are we saving them?" Bucky asked, knowing exactly where his priorities were.

"After that, what about our payment?" He continued, stepping forward. He wasn't in a position to make demands, but he had his priorities. Always remember the score.

Loxxi glared at Bucky, ready to inflict mystical violence again, but he took a deep breath. He let his clean, welcoming facade take over again. Even though everyone there knew his true colors, keeping the illusion of the kind leader Loxxi perceived his brother to be. To him, being "nice" was obligatory for him to keep everyone in line, even if it wasn't genuine.

"Patience is a virtue, Captain Barnes. Your compatriots can surely wait a while before we get what you desire. We currently lack the resources to expend on their rescue. But worry not, once we become the Masters of the new world, they will be returned to your side. That is a promise." Loxxi assured him with a pat on Bucky's shoulder before turning around to return to his quarters. "Minnie, show our newest Legionnaire to his quarters."

The Silver Cheetah dashed right up behind Captain Winters, ready to grab his neck and rush him over to his room like she did Ms. Gigantic, but he was able to intercept her grab, spinning his arm around to face backward and aim right toward her face, "Don't you dare."

Minerva took a step back and moved around to his front. "You got crazy reflexes," she commented apprehensively.

"Why do you think? Just take me over," Bucky answered firmly.

The Silver Cheetah nodded and walked Captain Winters to the living quarters of the ship. Soon after, she brought him into his room. "We had two rooms set up for your team, the other had two bunk beds. But I guess you're rocking a single, now." Minerva said with a shrug.

Barnes looked around the room. He looked at the empty bed where Flag Burner would've been as he hung his parka on a hook. Eventually, he turned to Minerva and broke the silence. "You left my crew to rot."

Minerva scoffed, "There was nothing I could have done to save your men on the street."

"I was ready to take the fall for them and let them go, you took that choice from me!" Bucky snapped back.

"They were acceptable casualties to Loxx. You weren't., so I saved you. Besides, what would have expected me to do? " Minerva asked dismissively.

"I know who I'm dealing with, you could've saved Helmut. I know what you speedsters have going through your minds 24/7; time in a bottle. But you couldn't spare half a half a second to bother saving one of my best guys. Now he's gonna be stuck as one of Fury's pawns. Y'know, she's a bigger threat to everybody than the League is. But you let her have him because he's expendable to you people!" Barnes chastised as he pointed his finger at Minerva.

"We had a mission to carry out. Your men understood that going in. My hearing picked up your conversation with the one with the Cobra Commander mask. They knew the risk, and my loyalties fell to Loxxi. I'm a professional, just like you," Minerva responded coldly.

"A professional?!" Bucky said incredulously, "You're a feral goddamn monster!"

Minerva popped her claws and held them towards Bucky's neck, "If I was, I'd have your liver-" she threatened before being cut off.

"What? With fava beans and a nice Chianti?" Bucky interrupted sarcastically.

"No, just your liver. Chianti is a tad acidic for my taste," she responded with a snarl.

"You're a sadist who kills for fun. I kill to survive and to make sure nobody else ever has to deal with the people who made me who I am. And I sure as hell leave no one behind. I let my crew care about the score, that's their code. I care about them, that's mine."

"You have the luxury of having a code. Your mind is your own, mine is my god's. He tells me to kill, and I do it. I kill to survive, just as you. I may take some pleasure out of what I do, but that is because I have no other choice but endless suffering. You understand that all too well, don't you, Cold Soldier?" Minerva explained with a deep sadness in her eyes. She didn't like what she was, but she accepted her fate.

Bucky paused after she called him by his old codename, he remembered all those decades of being Hydra's puppet. Even under their brainwashing, he remembered the face of each kill. But he also remembered the kind of man that conditioning turned him into; a heartless assassin who enjoyed fulfilling his duty. "Perhaps I do."

"I respect you though," Minerva added, "You escaped your torture and enacted vengeance. You made something noble of yourself. The care you have for your teammates is what makes you such an effective leader. It's what made you such a valued asset for Loxxi."

"Is that why you saved me from Fury and why you protected me from Daddy Warbucks?" Bucky asked, now seeing Minerva in a different light.

"Loxxi saw your value. Despite his temper, he's a brilliant man. Sometimes he just needs reminding of that." As Minerva talked about Loxxi, her tone shifted as if she was talking about a family member.

"With that goofy helmet and the magic hands, does he remind you of your pops?" Bucky suggested curiously.

"God, no," Minerva defensively shot down. "But…we are kindred spirits. We were both the problem children in our families, so we know how it feels to be overlooked compared to the golden child, or the secret third kid who you just learned existed, and now you gotta deal with that!" She explained as she threw her hands in the air. Minerva was still dealing with the information of Lorna's existence.

Bucky felt awkward at her final remark. "Right. Well, thanks for saving me, I guess. Even if we were at odds, I would've done the same," he said, extending his arm to shake her hand.

Minerva looked down at his arm, there was a slight temptation in the back of her mind telling her to rip it off and eat it, but she kept those impulses in check by remembering that she didn't need that much iron in her diet. She shook his hand with a stoic expression. "Thanks. You're a good man."

"You're not, but that's okay," Bucky responded with a smirk, the two now reaching some semblance of common ground.

At the roundtable, Yon Sinestro and Mr. Scary were swapping stories with each other. Lawrence Zoltan Crane had idolized Sinestro from afar ever since he made himself known as an enemy of the Green Marvel and the Kree Lantern Corps six years ago. A highly advanced piece of technology designed to feed off and induce fear was the pinnacle of everything Crane has been working toward. So to be able to pick the cosmos' Master of Fear was a dream come true.

"You should have seen Korundar, Zoltan. I ruled that planet with an iron fist, and I brought safety and security unheard of. All it required was displays of gruesome and graphic torture of defectors by my constructs, and they fell in line like that," Sinestro explained with a snap of his fingers. "They learned that they could not breathe without my boot on their necks because it was covering the punctures left in their tracheas after years of disorder."

"You are truly a poet, great Sinestro! I have much to learn from your wisdom," Mr. Scary praised as he briefly applauded the Kree warrior. "This Legion is infinitely fortunate to have you on their side." He was sucking up to Sinestro very hard. Crane's end goal was to be given a yellow power ring so that he could master fear in the same way as Sinestro.

"Yes, thank you. It is true that I am indeed great, so few can resist my magnitronic personality. I almost had Carol Jordan at my side, I trained her in the ways of the Kree and had her hanging on my every word. I was the most important person in her life. But her human ways clouded her judgment and she betrayed me to the Corps. She sent my world order crashing down to dust and had me banished to the Anti-Matter Zone, but that's where I made my power ring and began my grand plot of revenge on her!" Sinestro boasted. He'd go on and detail his grand series of exploits in an effort to defeat the Green Marvel, but each story ended in failure. From an outside perspective, the rivalry between Sinestro and Jordan seemed almost a bit pathetic. But Mr. Scary was focused on his priorities and listened regardless for a chance at that ring.

Despite that, Crane did start putting together a thought. Sinestro was in most senses of the word, a fascist. He used fear to control the masses and keep order in any way possible. This was the very thing he despised the Blind Bat for using fear for. For him, fear was meant to be a tool for freedom. Fear reduces the mind back to its primal state, to reveal who a person truly is beneath the confines of society.

So Loxxi's plan to provide everyone on Earth with exactly what they wanted had interesting psychological applications that Crane wished to study. This also flew in the face of everything the Legion was trying to accomplish. It seemed like helping them was counterintuitive to Yon's goals, and he didn't seem to realize that. It made Crane want to ask.

"Umm, another fantastic story about a close narrow defeat to Carol Jordan, lord Sinestro. But I must ask, why grace the Legion with your presence if they seek to spread infinite chaos to this world? Does this not conflict with your grand plan?" Scary asked, trying to sugarcoat his doubts.

Yon Sinestro chuckled at his question, "Oh you burlap-cloaked plebian, you fail to grasp my true intentions. I want the Legion to succeed, more than anything. This world must see the extremes of chaos to truly grasp the need for order. I am helping Loxxi achieve a fool's idea of a utopian society of anarchy, just so he can watch it crumble under its structural insecurity. Only when the masses suffer from their endless freedom, will they beg me to cage them once again."

Crane tried to track that logic, and it made enough sense for him not to question it. "An excellent strategy, lord Sinestro. I will follow you to the end of this Earth!" Now, despite his sycophancy, he was following his own plan.

"Excellent, Mr. Scary, and when the need for me arises, I will of course require an assistant," Sinestro replied. He had listened to a few of Crane's stories about his use of Fear Toxin and clashes with the Blind Bat, but he found them and his desires to study and understand human behavior banal and unnecessary. But, he liked the praise the skull-masked doctor gave him, and he also liked having a sycophant there to hype him up.

L. Zoltan Crane and Yon Sinestro had two completely opposite approaches to the use of fear, but Mr. Scary was going to keep sucking up to Sinestro because he wanted that ring, and Yon Sinestro wanted his hype man. They were two parasites feeding off each other, but they were too hungry to notice.

Later that day, Minerva entered Loxxi's main quarters/office on the ship. He was having another telepathic debriefing with Khlarion, and updating him on the need for another detour. The rogue Asgardian held his hand against his head as the demon child expressed his… displeasure at the current situation. Once that was over, he directed his attention towards the Silver Cheetah.

"Oh, Minnie, please come in. What seems to be the issue?" Loxxi asked in a completely level-headed and calm tone. He snapped at most of the Legion, but not her, regardless of what he was going through.

"Loxx, while we were fighting Sergeant Speed today, he gave me some shocking news. It caught me off guard, leading us to where we are right now," Minerva admitted, slightly embarrassed for being caught vulnerable in battle. "He told me that I have another sister. I gotta know, is it true, and if it is, did you know?"

Loxxi looked at Minerva and let out a long sigh, "Yes, you do. I've known for a while too."

Minerva dashed up to Loxxi and dug her claws into his desk, "I had more family in this world, and you kept that from me?!"

"It wouldn't have mattered if I didn't. She's not your family, she's just another child of Erik Nelson. He had another family in Japan after he abandoned your mother, your sister, and you. Her name is Lorna Toru and she inherited your father's magnetic powers. It seems he spent a lot of time actively raising her whenever the Helm provided him the autonomy to do so." Loxxi explained with a bitter venom on his tongue.

Minerva was shocked, there was a sense of betrayal in her eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I deserved to know."

"The last thing I wanted to do was see you hurt even more by your father's neglect and distaste for you. I felt I owed you that," Loxxi explained with a small smile. He looked as if he cared about Minerva's feelings, and maybe deep down he did. But this was a ploy to keep the Silver Cheetah under his thumb. "I didn't want you to see your bastard half-sister and see even more of what you were robbed of. You deserved a true father." Loxxi raised his hand and gently caressed her whiskered cheek. There was a tenderness there, a feeling neither of them felt they got from their fathers.

"So what, she's just more proof that he never really loved me?" Minerva tried to stay cool upon learning that information, but it hurt. She had spent a lot of her life waiting for her father who was hardly around, trying to earn the love of her father, fell down the path she did because she wanted to be like him, and stood in the shadow of her twin sister because she was broken and "needed that love more". And all of that only to find out that there was another mother and child he dedicated all the time he was gone to. At this point, she was trying not to cry.

Loxxi stood up from his desk and approached Minerva, he set his hand on her shoulder. "Minerva, my dear, you don't need to do anything to earn his love anymore. He's gone and never saw the fiercely capable apex predator standing before him. So much has stood in the way of your path to greatness your entire life, but I am finally here to push away the barricades and help you achieve all that you deserve! All that we deserve, dear girl."

The magician's hand pulsed with green energy as he cast an illusion on Minerva. The appearance of the human woman she used to be before her curse flowed over her feline form as Minerva looked at the woman who was once Miss Mercury in a mirror on Loxxi's wall. She was beautiful, she saw her tan skin, blue eyes, and striking silver hair. She looked down at furless hands and her green bodysuit now a bold electric blue with white boots. This was who she was before the curse, what she could be in Loxxi's world.

"I need you with me on this, Minnie. You of all of them understand the value of what can be. We can be so great together. Just trust me, don't let the "truth" get in the way of justice." Loxxi said as he dissipated the illusion over Minerva, turning her back into the Silver Cheetah.

The Silver Cheetah looked at her reflection and gnashed her teeth at her bestial appearance. "Of course, sorry for doubting you, Loxxi." She bowed her head in submission to him.

"Good kitty," Loxxi said as he petted her head, "Assemble the Legion. We'll have to retrieve Toymandarin's rings if he is to repair GRODD's crown, so another mission will have to be arranged.

"Yes, sir, right away," Minerva answered before speeding out of the room.

Loxxi turned around and stared at the wall behind him. He grinned as he assured Minerva Maximoff's unquestioning loyalty to him. He knew this whole ordeal was just going to become more and more complicated, but he was going to do whatever it took to keep his Legion in line. He then approached his desk and pressed a button on it to summon a hologram of what appeared to be a tree with infinitely splitting-off branches. He grimaced at the model and pressed another button.

Upon pressing, the Inquizitor ran into Loxxi's office, "How can I help you sir?" He rubbed his neck in anticipation.

"Have you seen this model? The branches are endlessly duplicating. It's not sustainable, tell me why!" Loxxi demanded of the man in the green bowler hat.

"Mr. Luthorson, I have studied all goals of human desire and what they truly want. Some things like finding true love are easy: just pair everyone who wants it with someone else, and toggle their perception so that they appear as their ideal mate. If their desires are enlightenment or knowledge, just upload the information to their head. Anyone smart enough to understand the root of their desires will come out okay." Wesley explained as he gestured towards the model and pointed at the "roots" of the tree.

"Alright, that makes enough sense, so what's the problem?" Loxxi asked.

"It's the other desires that make things go haywire. If everyone has wealth, it loses its value, and there's no one there to serve the wealthy. The millions who desire power will all go to war with each other because no one can have it all. Everyone who wants world domination will have to get their own world to dominate! But then what about all of the people who desire other people dead, then we either gotta kill that person, or create a whole other world that just has that person dead! To sustain that many different worlds to properly satisfy the needs of all the people of the Earth, we'd create so many Earths that they'd gravitationally pull towards each other and create a force akin to a black hole!" Wesley ranted until his face went blue and he hyperventilated.

Loxxi just stared at him for a few seconds, "Wesley, you're overthinking this." Loxxi grabbed Wesley's jacket, briefly putting the fear of god into the scrawny lawyer, only to simply loosen the man's tie so he could breathe better. "We don't need to give them all their own planets. Humans think in far too small of scope for them to grasp how vast their own planets are. We just have to make all of the ones who need their own realm incompatible with the main one, make them tiny, and give them a minuscule simulacrum of Earth with a simplified version of the world they desire. Then, we put all of those tiny planets in one place so we can monitor them. Undesirables can always be relocated." He explained the process with such blase.

"Ah, I see! Then we replace them all with duplicates without those desires to maintain the relationships those people provide to everyone else! But don't forget, Mr. Luthorson. We'll still need some of them around for you and the Legion to fight. Every hero needs a villain," Wesley added with a smirk.

Loxxi chuckled at his proposition, "That they do. Get back to it, Nygma. There's still much work to do."

"Before I do, allow me an inquiry, Mr. Luthorson," the Inquizitor inquired. "Why bother with providing those people with all that power, only to shunt them away somewhere else? I'm following your requirements to orchestrate the program to satisfy everyone, but I don't see the point." He flinched in fear of being choked again after that question.

Loxxi gauged his body language, but ignored it, "Wesley, we are not to decide who deserves the power to achieve their deepest desires. We are only assembled to sustain it. Chaos reigning unassisted always collapses in on itself and is remembered in infamy. But with us there, to prove that it not only works but is better for everyone than the order before it, we will be beloved."

"Is that what all of this for, Mr. Luthorson? To be loved?" Wesley asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Of course, what better aspiration is there?" Loxxi asked rhetorically.

Around fifteen minutes later, the full Legion was gathered around the table again., though now seating arrangements had changed a tad with new members filling out a few spots once empty. The left side of the table still had Minerva closest to Loxxi's spot at the head, with Kamala right next to her. But then between Kamala and Sinestro, Bucky took his seat there, and then Crane sat on the other side of Sinestro. On the right, things remained almost exactly as before, with Winwu closest to Loxxi, then Bezarro still facing backward, then Sonic Manta, but then Wesley sitting at the very edge of the table, as far away from Loxxi as possible, with a few empty seats between him and Manta.

Kamala gave Bucky a friendly smile as she turned to him, "Hi, Captain Barnes, welcome to the Legion! I've read so much about you, it's great to finally meet you!" Since her induction to this team, she had grown a lot more comfortable with working amongst a more unseemly crowd. This was due in part to Yon Sinestro consistently draining the young woman of her fear and anxieties. With everything he was taking from her, Sinestro seldom needed to use his Lantern to recharge his ring. Unabashed by the societal pressures, anxieties, fear, and guilt that kept her in line all her life, Kamala was a bubbly presence to those in the Legion, eager to help bring the world into the bright future Loxxi had promised her.

Bucky was put at ease by her pleasant demeanor, "Hey kid, Kamala right? I'm familiar with all these guys, but not you. How'd you end up here?"

"Well, I wanted to be a hero, then I got mind controlled to be a living weapon, got beat up by Wonder Crystal, then she and the government abandoned me and left me to rot in jail for half a year," Kamala explained, gritting her teeth at that last point. "So I'm with these guys to ensure nobody else like me gets forgotten."

Bucky smiled, appreciating that they were more similar than he expected, "You, I like you. We got a lot in common, but I'm guessing you knew that. You said you read about me. Where, like in a history book?"

"Actually, internet fan fiction. There's a lot of stuff, romantic, even erotic stuff, written about you and Sergeant Speed, they call you guys "Estucky"." Kamala answered. This would be the kind of thing someone with a normal impulse control system wouldn't say. But without any fear to keep her from talking about her atypical choice of literature, she would happily overshare the encyclopedia of nonsense she had built up throughout her adolescence to now.

Bucky just sat there in silence, completely baffled by this information, not knowing how to feel, let alone how to respond. The next thought that went through his head was "Maybe I've lived too long."

Soon after, Loxxi would take his seat at the head of the table. He looked tired, staring off into the distance. He was mentally preparing himself for his next spiel about the grand scheme. This time, he was going to change his attitude towards everything and see what would happen. "Alright, Legionnaires, we've had another hiccup. It's to be expected at this point, that we cannot ever completely succeed. It's basically written in the stars that the heroes have to come out on top somehow, but we're here to change that." He sounded very frustrated at first.

"Is that true? Is that really how that works?" Kamala asked incredulously.

"Actually yes, that was part of the knowledge our benefactor had given me upon our first encounter. It was the natural order for those deemed heroes to always win, and the so-called villains always lose," Loxxi explained with exhaustion in his voice, but before anyone could ponder the nature of morality and cosmic justice, he continued.

"But, ever since the Lords of Order have lost their champion, things have gotten better for us! Chaos has been reigning!" Loxxi sounded a bit more confident now, "The Belle Raft breakout went off without a hitch, that went great! We may have lost the Purple Joker, but we still got Mr. Scary to fill his role. Sure, the crown is broken, but we actually have it, we didn't lose anyone!"

Captain Winters loudly cleared his throat. "We didn't lose anyone important," Loxxi carried on. Bucky went to leave his seat, but Yon Sinestro used his ring to make a seat belt construct to hold the mercenary to his chair.

"Unlike most of our histories, we are finally making gradual steps towards winning! We just need to make one extra stop and we're back on track!" Loxxi rubbed his hands together excitedly. He snapped his fingers and a translucent green hologram of the large helmet Bucky and Minerva stole appeared at the center of the table.

"GRODD's telepathic crown is indispensable to the construction of Cerebro, but we can't do a thing with it if it's broken. Toymandarin can fix it, but he'll need the remaining nine of his mystic rings to get it up and running," as Loxxi continued, the image changed to that of nine multicolored rings floating in the air. As they showed themselves, Winwu's eyes almost bulged out of his head in desire for them. He reached his little hand out to the hologram before they dissipated into the next image.

"Stark was smart to keep them as far away from Winwu as possible. They weren't stored at any prison. They're contained at a place even more well guarded, the Dibny Building." The hologram changed to a highrise building in the heart of Manhattan. It was sleek and high-tech, shining like a beacon. At the top of the building was a large logo: a black "4" and a blue "E" joined at the hip, surrounded by a circle. This was the home to the Elemental Four, the first superhero team of the modern age.

"This building's security system was designed by one of the few men I could concede as an intellectual rival, Ralph Richards. Not to mention fighting off the Four themselves," Loxxi waved his hand to reveal a skeleton of the building, showcasing all sorts of traps, alarms, and security systems. At the very center of the building was the trophy room, so going from the top or bottom wouldn't change anything.

"This is why we're fortunate to have brought you on, Captain Winters. You will orchestrate this heist to steal the rings, and whatever else you desire. Their trophy room is chock full of extremely volatile technology, anything you steal will probably help us somehow." At this point, Loxxi was going with the flow, accepting whatever chaos created by his legionnaires would be helpful in some way. Another rule of business he'd come to accept is that trying to micromanage everything can be a fool's errand, and to let the system run itself sometimes just works.

Bucky looked at the different approaches to robbing this building, "Yeah, this is gonna be real fun, would've been nice if we still had my guy who could travel through mirrors, but whatever. I'll make do with the ones we got." He looked around the table and determined who would be the most useful for his next big score.

"I'll take you, you, you, and not you," Bucky called out, pointing to Toymandarin, Ms. Gigantic, Yon Sinestro, and Beta Ray Zero.

Bezarro finally faced the right direction in his chair when he heard the "not you", his mangled face seemed to curl up in a dopey, haunting grin. "Boo-ray! Let us stop!"

Sonic Manta let out a reverberated chuckle, "Ha, good luck with that one, mate."

"Any chance you can give us any extra backup? Who knows what else might show up?" Bucky asked, unbothered by the fact Bezarro was joining him. He knew how his speech worked and called that out on purpose.

"I'll see what I can do, I have someone in mind. Best of luck, Captain. You ship out tomorrow." Loxxi said with a smirk. "Meeting adjourned."

With that, the five villains selected for this mission looked at each other with confirmation, leaving the table to prepare themselves for their mission.

Chapter 31: The Brain Trust

For the first time in a long time, the League of Marvelous Individuals looked like a full team. Thunderman, Blind Bat, Wonder Crystal, Black Orca, Sergeant Speed, Emerald Witch, Cyberman, and Captain Gamma were all back on active duty fighting for truth, justice, and peace on Earth. All of them, in some shape or form, were sitting around the Watchtower table.

T'Kurri, Victor, and Jessica were physically on the Watchtower, while everyone else was there either via hologram or standard phone call. Victor paced around the table, looking up at a holographic projection of a myriad of supervillains, either from Belle Raft or Ryker's Asylum.

"Roughly 77 Class 2 or higher villains have lost their means of containment in the past week. We've been able to move non-powered individuals like Mannheim and the low-level Ryker crazies to the Iron Vault. But for everybody else, S.H.I.E.L.D. has them in temporary holding cells at the Hectoskellion. But because of the overcrowding, we've had a lot of escaped criminals in the past few days either due to the transfer of prisoners or escaping after incarceration. How has the recapture effort been going?" Victor asked with an exhaustion in his voice. There was a bag under his one human eye, and the hair on the right half of his head was a mess.

"Doctor Langstrom is back in custody yesterday, Dekker was put away this morning, and we have Alisher Sartorius cryogenically frozen in a lead tube. I'm still making my rounds through the city, so I'll still be very busy for the next few days," Blind Bat explained. He was somewhat visible to the rest of the team via hologram. He was sitting alone in the Batacombs in the pitch dark, the only light being the camera of his computer scanning him to present the image. As a result, the hologram did not have a great resolution.

"How was your first day back on patrol, Jessica? Are you taking care of yourself?" Diana asked like a doting mother. She was happy to see Jessica back. Had she been there, she would have voted to reinstate her, but she was still very concerned for the Witch's mental state.

"I took care of this guy wearing all black with babies for arms last night, that was really weird," Jessica replied, looking away as she remembered the villain she faced. The foe's name was Master Handemonium. "But, I'm doing good, I missed the outside world. I forgot how pretty the West Coast was at night."

"Great, good to see you sliding back into your role without having a panic attack. Billy, how about you," Victor asked bluntly.

"Everything at the Cube was fine. Nobody's gotten out recently, " Billy added confidently in response. He was also present via hologram, though he was lying in his bed in his college dorm, holding his phone above him. His hologram was presented the same way at the table, much to Thor's amusement and Cyberman's annoyance.

"What about IBAC the Abominable, he's been at large for a year. Have you made any progress on finding him?" Victor asked passive-aggressively.

"Well…has he done anything in the past year?" Billy asked with a shrug, "Emil's strong, but not too bright. He's probably just laying low, maybe he's trying to go straight. If he becomes a problem, I'll deal with him. But he's not on my radar." The boy answered rather dismissively. He was young, and more mundane things like exams were his priorities right now.

Victor sideyed the child, he was not amused. "Anyway, we gotta talk about what we're gonna do to hold all these guys. Dropping them off at S.H.I.E.L.D. just isn't sustainable anymore. These guys are everywhere, and if we don't put them somewhere, people are gonna get hurt."

"Oh, yes. Because you getting involved with storing these people worked out so well last time," Diana responded snappily. She was also present by hologram, sitting at a desk in her office in the Themyscrattilan Embassy in Gateway City, California.

"Say what you like, Diana. For years, it worked. But I worked solely with S.H.I.E.L.D. then, I should have clued you in on my actions so we could've discussed them. For that, I'm sorry. I'm telling you guys about this now so we can do it better. Okay?" Victor explained, holding a hand to his face.

"Yes, of course. We're a team, and we must act like it. What did you have in mind, Stark?" Thor, over a normal phone call with no video, asked, trying to ease the tension between Victor and Diana.

"I was going to the Dibny Building to speak with Ralph. Every few months, he brings together me and the other super-geniuses to talk shop and, you know, solve all the world's problems," Stark boasted with a smirk.

Everyone around the table exchanged looks, there was an instant wave of skepticism towards this idea. "Forgive me Victor, but that doesn't spark the most confidence. We don't want you and Mr. Elastic banishing people into a pocket dimension," Diana spoke up, putting a hand to her head.

"Hey, it worked that time against Anhilleez. We needed to get him and his orange bugs gone, and it worked. I'd say that was pretty effective pest control," Victor retorted proudly, throwing his hands up in dismissal.

"Sure, great for pest control, not great for detaining human beings, Stark. There's a very important difference," Sarge finally spoke up to make a point. "Also, aren't they still in said pocket dimension?"

Victor put his fingers to his chin and looked down, considering his point, "Okay, yeah, that's a pretty compelling argument against it. But this is why I'm going. The other science guys think differently than I do, they have skill sets that are beyond my expertise. Together, we'll be able to think of a way to hold these villains safely, securely, and humanely."

"He makes a good point, I trust Richards to keep Victor in check. But adding on his points, we should have other League members there. Thunderman's knowledge of Asgardian technology and Captain Gamma's wisdom over magic could provide vital insight," T'Kurri advised, standing at his position at the table with his arms crossed.

"I second that, frankly, I think you two are best to temper the potentially unstable flow of ego in that room," Diana chimed in with a smile. "Billy, are you able to sit in on this?"

"I have an exam tomorrow that I should really be studying for. Quantum Mechanics is a bitch," Billy answered with a sigh. He was a freshman right now, but he had taken so many AP credits in high school that he was able to skip all the foundational courses.

"Take your textbook with you, then. Maybe you'll even absorb more information by osmosis from the rest of us. I think Doctor Palmer is coming too, she can quiz you." Victor responded, "Also, it's not like you're studying now. We can see you, y'know." Stark continued with a similar level of sass Banner threw towards him.

"Alright, fine. Don, you're joining us too, right?" Billy asked in a blaise tone.

"I'll be late. I'm running some tests at the Fortress on a personal project. Then in about half an hour, I have to redirect a tsunami headed towards Copenhagen, if I aim it right, I can send a portion of it to the Sahara. On that subject, T'Kurri, where is your wife? Usually, she's handling stuff like this." Thor answered and asked.

It had become a tad suspicious that Stormbird had yet to make her return to the League. When T'Kurri arrived, he said she was on her way. That was almost a week ago, now. "Tides are more erratic right now, likely due to Manta's interference somehow. Her transport submarine was taken out of commission before she could make her departure. It will be a while before she can join us. Kendra is, to put it lightly, not in a good mood about this." He explained with a hint of nervousness.

"Eesh, that sounds awful. She's gotta be so claustrophobic being stuck down there. Maybe I can bring her up in a bubble, Good Witch of the North style?" Jessica offered. She and Kendra got along well while they were both on the team, and they were sympathetic ears to each other for their agoraphobia and claustrophobia respectively.

"A kind gesture, but her Adth Metal wings and mace would disrupt your magic, causing the bubble to pop. I would much rather my wife be alive, thank you," T'Kurri replied with a dry wit, but he seemed to appreciate Jessica's sentiment. "Additionally, I will handle monitor duties in your absence, Victor. It will give me time to check with my council on the submarine's reconstruction."

"Oh, thanks. I almost forgot about that. God, I need to see the ground again," Victor said with a groan.

"Victor, when was the last time you left the Watchtower?" Diana asked with concern. She was typically cross with him, but it crossed over often to being genuinely worried for his well-being.

"Uh…how long has Kurri been back?" Victor asked, not fully aware of the passage of time.

"Alright, you should get down here now. Touch grass, maybe. You remember what grass looks like, right Vic?" Billy asked cheekily.

You could almost hear the literal gears turning in his head before Victor responded, "I…ma-maybe? Wait…yeah, yeah I remember. I'll meet you there, Banner. Meeting adjourned, guys. Thanks for coming."

"Alright, hey Matt, before you go, I have something I want to discuss with you," Diana chimed in, but this was a conversation that would hold relevance at a later time.

Everyone else would hang up, and Jessica would retire to her quarters on the Watchtower, saying she had to see to a personal matter. Unbeknownst to the rest of the League, she would be confronting Khlarion about the circumstances surrounding her reinstatement. T'Kurri would go to the monitors and take Victor's post. Finally, Victor would take a stand on the teleporter pad, tap in a few coordinates on the panel on his arm, and disappear from the Watchtower.

Instead of teleporting directly to the Dibny Building, Stark teleported himself into the middle of Central Park, just a stone's throw from the building. He looked around to see himself surrounded by nature. He reached down to touch the grass with his cybernetic hand. He could feel a simulated series of electrical signals meant to imitate the feeling of touching grass, but there was a feeling of detachment attached to it.

Stark joined the hero game at eighteen. His weapons contractor father used alien technology to rebuild him after his body was broken by a terrorist attack. It built a metal shell around his body that isolated what was left of his flesh and blood from the rest of the world. While Victor knew that was an act of love, he couldn't help but resent him for not just letting him die as a normal kid rather than live as a freak.

Victor was a man of grand perspective, his mind was connected to the digital world, the entire internet running through his brain at all times. It made him a genius, but having the darkest parts of humanity run through your head eats away at one's psyche. Stark also knew that the world would never see his new cybernetics and accept him as normal. While he knew that there was still good in humanity, that they were worth saving, he held them in deep contempt. They could not be trusted to save themselves, so he got involved to do it for them. And if he couldn't be ordinary, he'd be extraordinary.

As the Cyberman, he turned himself into the ultimate spectacle for the people. As a public figure and superhero, he became seen as a man of the people, and someone the people could trust to do what's best for them. His augmented body made him someone to look up to, not down on. Meanwhile, Victor Stark worked with the world governments and gave them new innovative technology built by his hands in exchange for letting him operate without oversight. He gamed the inherently corrupt systems that allowed the world to exist how it did so that he could be the most effective hero he could be. If he were to disrupt those systems, his sphere of influence would pop, and humanity would see him as a terrorist in need of dispatching.

When he first allied himself with the Avengers of Justice, he saw the potential to turn a group of people who would be seen as freaks and dangerous vigilantes into what he felt the world truly needed; gods that walked among them. When he rebranded the team as the League of Marvelous Individuals, he thought he finally found peers who saw his vision for a better world.

He unfortunately did not. Stark's views of drilling through the sludge and casting it aside were seen as overly radical. His corporate tactics of maintaining appearances to the public were soulless and antithetical to their mission. The LMI felt Cyberman was not fit to be a hero, but everyone felt that if they rejected him, he'd go down a dark path for which millions would suffer. Cyberman needed the League to ground him, to remind him that humanity was not just a pet project for him to tinker with. But through it all, Victor just wanted to be seen as a man again, but the League only saw him as a disaster they needed to avert, and he was aware of this.

Stark knew of the power he possessed, his ambitions, and the methods he was willing to take were a deadly combination. Everyone knew the dangers of the killer robot taking over the world and ending humanity because they saw humanity as a virus. The robotic half of his mind egged him on towards abandoning all preface of civility and respect toward the system and force the reigns toward his metal hands. Victor saw it as an inevitability as he grew older and more powerful. All those times he referred to Jessica as a ticking time bomb, he deep down was also talking about himself. But despite all that, his remaining humanity reminded him what it was all for, and made choices that kept the fate of the world in the hands of the people he swore to save, choices like irrationally changing his vote to bring the Emerald Witch back to active duty. Those small but vital moments were enough to keep him from crossing the line from superhero to super-tyrant.

While Victor brooded over his purpose, he hadn't even noticed the crowd of people that clamored around him, cheering for autographs and selfies. Once he came to his senses, the Cyberman was happy to oblige. The fame he amassed was superficial, but it was what Victor did to keep himself from feeling so isolated. Even a faux mink keeps you just as warm.

Stark primped and posed for the people, giving a big flashy smile for the cameras. Despite his contempt for humanity, he needed them to see him as approachable, so he could be trusted to save them. Every little action had a purpose in the grander scheme of bringing humanity to a better future. Once they were done, Victor triggered his jet boots and rose above them, "Sorry folks, gotta jet! The World needs saving, and only one man can do it," he boasted before shooting off into the sky and flying towards the Dibny Building.

About fifteen minutes later, Victor had already gotten himself situated amongst the other geniuses of the superhero community. These were his kind of people, instead of just sitting around at a table and talking about what they should do, these were the people who did. Inside the Dibny Building was a highly advanced laboratory bustling with innovation and experimentation. And among this band of futurists, the greatest of them all was Ralph Richards, Mister Elastic.

"So Diana wasn't too keen on the Antimatter Zone, fair enough, honestly. I doubt we could've paid people enough to go in there and construct the thing, let alone guard it. Affixing the gateway on the other side to any one point would've also posed a problem," Ralph kept rattling off flaws in Stark's plan while staring into a microscope while his arms were lodged in a large machine at one side of the room. He wore a black, gold, and blue jumpsuit with the Elemental Four logo on his lapel. Ralph's body held the powers of plasticity and hyperflexibility. He could reshape his body to whatever he needed to. The form of choice right now was extremely small tooling in the belly of a particle accelerator's gearbox.

The rubber man's neck was stretched out to place his head right beside Stark, who was generating a series of holographic blueprints of other prison designs. Several of them either with approving or disapproving markings on them with notes from Diana. "She has very high standards when it comes to, as she calls it, "rehabilitation centers." But this thing has got to hold so many people with different power sets. We have to accommodate people who can punch through concrete, and melt through steel. And because she deemed the power-dampening collars "inhumane", we can't incorporate them into the new system either!"

"Actually, I'm with Diana on this one. I've studied Bolivar Magnus' design, they are very painful for the user, and inordinately heavy," a small voice chimed in. Standing on Victor's shoulder was a woman barely five inches tall in blue and yellow armor with yellow insectoid wings on her back. This was Janet Palmer, a quantum physicist and bio-engineer going by the pseudonym Pinpoint. Using a fragment of a White Dwarf Star, she could draw mass from and shunt it to alter the size and density of herself. She was also married to another scientist superhero, Martin Pym, aka Fireant, but he was indisposed at this time and could not make it to the summit.

"How would you suggest we make it better, Jan? It's disabling parts of their own DNA. No matter how we do it, it's gonna hurt them a little bit. It's like if anyone else had to wear that wasp waist corset you have on your costume. It's what you gotta do to keep them from escaping." Victor retorted.

"Well, for one, make them smaller," Janet answered simply.

"Maybe we can use the same spells we used to contain Black Doom?" Billy chimed in, standing in front of Victor, Janet, and Ralph. He was rather short, so he was still looking up at Stark's holographic projections. We just find a deserted island, make some adjustments for habitation, drop them all in there, cast the spell, and boom! They got a peaceful place to live out their sentence and not harm anyone!"

Victor let out an apprehensive groan, "Look, I wanna keep the magic to a minimum, just to reinforce what we know is gonna work. How do you factor in all the different types of powers?"

"When you have the wisdom and the mental stamina, magic just does whatever you tell it to," Billy answered confidently. "If I could contain Doom, then anything less than him is, well, child's play!"

"The spell was just designed in conjunction with my energy shield generators to contain general extranormal beings, that's how the Khandaqverian citizens can still leave the country while he can't," Ralph elaborated on Billy's suggestion, "But are you sure you'd be able to recreate it, Billy? Last time you did it, that was Shahulk in control, tapping into that berserker rage was what let you secure it. Can you do it again now that you and him are merged?"

"Just bring Guy to the ritual and let him talk for a few minutes, I won't even need the magic word to channel my rage," Billy jabbed. He was referring to Ralph's brother-in-law Guy Storm, aka the second Human Lantern. He had abilities similar to Alan Hammond, taking the name out of respect, but this combined with his abrasive personality led to much of the League finding Guy to be a massive tool.

Ralph just rolled his eyes, "Haha, yes, Guy is annoying, very funny," he replied sarcastically. He knew his brother-in-law was a piece of work, but he was also tired of the ridicule Guy'd receive behind his back.

"Then, we can just build a normal prison to hold them all, maybe I whip up some drones for basic peacekeeping, and then build a little doorway to get them in and out. Yeah, this'll go great," Victor boasted. "Jan, you see Logan a lot more than we do. Do you think he'd lend some Adth metal to make some door hinges and a frame?" As Victor jabbered on about details, he started tossing together a holographic design of a new prison, now standing on a deserted island surrounded by a giant magic bubble.

"I think we're forgetting something very important with all of this," Janet called out amongst the brain trust. "The greatest issue of all the prisons that went down was not a lack of security, but a failure to perform a jail's core function, to reform and rehabilitate the inmates." Dr. Palmer was very much a woman of science, but that quest for knowledge was built upon improving the lives of all humanity.

"What are you suggesting, Jan?" Ralph asked with a twisting tilt of his head.

"I'm just saying that instead of focusing on the walls, we should be focusing on the interior facilities. Just looking at Goth's Kitchen, there is a surprising correlation between superpowers and mental illness, I was stalked for weeks by a man who spun like a top, and when Pym and I caught him, we found out the spinning had applied so much centrifugal force on the fluids in his brain that it drove him crazy, and we all know about the Maximoff sisters," she explained sympathetically.

"What about guys like Luthorson, Sinestro, or any of the bastards from HYDRA? They're monsters who got all their marbles but still choose to hurt people. You saying we put them up in a cushy little room like those day spa jails in Norway?" Victor asked somewhat antagonistically, turning his head to face the woman on his shoulder.

"I mean, if you wanted to keep them from escaping, it'd certainly help if it was a place they didn't wanna leave. And the crime rate in Norway is one of the lowest in the world," Billy interjected with a shrug.

"That's because Thunderman lives there!" Victor called out exasperatedly.

"My point is, that a lot of these people are sick, not all of them, but to those who are, we should extend them resources such as mental health professionals and reformative activities to help them use their powers in healthy ways which would help them reintegrate with society," Janet explained calmly, but with conviction.

"It makes sense even from a utilitarian standpoint. Society can benefit from metamutant abilities being normalized as a part of daily life. By de-incentivizing the benefits of crime, and providing offenders better options, it sets a good example going forward." Ralph replied, warming up to her idea.

"You said you were going to be collaborative with this stuff, Vic. You've been heavy on this anti-redemption for a while now, and frankly, it's starting to piss me off," Billy said, glaring at Victor. "Why are you so against the idea that people can change?"

"Because I don't believe all humans have the capacity for good," Victor answered darkly. "You don't see the darkness I do every day. There is beauty, no doubt, and it's our job to protect it. But for every flower, there are pounds of dirt. While all of you are out being people, I watch them all, from up there, and see them for what they are!" He shouted as he pointed up, presumably toward where the Watchtower was in the sky. Pinpoint had since fluttered off Victor's shoulder and hovered to the side of Ralph.

"That's your choice, Vic! We've all volunteered to take the load of monitor duty off you, but you can't let yourself not be in control! You try to puppet all of us around like we're lesser heroes without you!" Billy shouted back.

"Because you are! You would've been an enemy of the world had I not used my influence to make humanity see you as something other than a monster! And I get no respect from the League for all I do! You act like I'm selling the soul of the League for doing basic optics! The "Avengers of Justice" would've been the cause of World War 3 if I didn't get the U.N. to sanction every cat Thor saves out of a tree or every battered and abused woman Diana liberates from terrorists out East! And that's my point! Humans can be evil, and you can't fix them. You can't fix a rapist, someone who doesn't value the autonomy of your own body!" That last point hit particularly hard for Victor.

"That doesn't mean we should never stop trying to bring the good out of people!" Billy asserted. "We have to trust them to do the right thing!"

"We can't trust them to do anything right! That's why I'm here, to protect you from them, so you can protect them from themselves!" Victor then pulled back the part of his face that was always covered by the left half of his iron mask. It was a mass of scar tissue, bloodshot eye, and burns. "And so that no one else ever has to become someone like me." He then put it back on with a few metallic hisses as the armor reassembled itself.

Billy stared Victor in the face, unperturbed. "You know, you're sounding a lot like Doom, right now, Vic. Victor Von Doom, everybody! Everybody bow down to Victor Von Doom! He's gonna save us from ourselves!" He announced sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air.

"I am not like him, I am nothing like Doom!" Stark shouted, the lights on his armor all charging and lighting up. "Don't test me, Banner."

"Gentlemen, can we please not-" Ralph said, trying to get between them to break up the potential fight.

"Shahulk," Billy cut him off by saying his magic word. A small explosion of gamma energy radiated around him as he transformed into Captain Gamma. It wasn't as if the boy grew into the hulking brute, but rather Banner's body disappeared in the explosion. The jade giant stood where the boy once did, arms crossed, now looking down at Stark.

Janet sighed and grabbed the bridge of her nose, "Ugh, why are boys like this?"

"I think it's an age thing, Janet. I can't say for sure, but they both have something to prove," Ralph answered, fully pulling himself back together.

"Real brave of you to threaten a kid, Stark." Captain Gamma said with a scowl. The green goliath's brow was furrowed. He was ready to give Cyberman a piece of his mind.

"I wasn't. If I really wanted to, I'd staple your mouth shut." Stark responded as he brought the right side of his helmet up to cover both sides of his face.

"How indestructible are the things in this room?" Janet asked, looking around the lab.

"For most conventional metrics, quite, but for them, they're bulls in a china shop," Reed answered, looking around nervously, but as he did, he felt his rubbery nose begin to wiggle.

"The hell is that?" Janet questioned.

"Call it a detective's intuition, but that means danger is afoot," Ralph answered as he looked towards a wall on the other side of the room.

"Well, no duh, Ralph. Cyberman and Captain Gamma are about to tear this place apart!" Janet exclaimed.

"No, this is something else, something worse," Ralph elaborated with dread.

Right before Cyberman was ready to throw the first punch, a deafening explosion burst from the far wall. Ralph was quick to shield Janet with his polymorphic body. As the smoke cleared, hovering outside was a man fully clad in metal armor, dawned in a dark green tunic with the Egyptian symbol for fire, ironically shaped like a lightning bolt, embroidered across the chest, draped with a long black cloak. Beneath a full metal mask pierced two glowing green eyes. A raspy chuckle echoed from within the mask. This was a being of immense power who needed no introduction from anyone other than himself.

"YOUR DOOM IS UPON YOU, RICHARDS!" Boomed Black Doom with great gravitas. "I SEE THAT THE BOY IS HERE AS WELL, WHAT A LOVELY SURPRISE. I GET TO VANQUISH BOTH MY ENEMIES IN ONE AFTERNOON."

Everyone was dumbfounded to see him here. They all wholeheartedly believed the shield which contained Khandaqveria was impenetrable. Ralph himself now wondered where the rest of the Four were, but that he could address later.

Janet flew out from Ralph's protection and made two finger guns, her index fingers now charging with atomic energy. "I wish Martin could be here for this," she may have been a woman of science, but she also relished the thrill of battle, especially someone of Doom's caliber.

Cyberman and Captain Gamma looked at each other with unease, "Truce?" Stark proposed.

"Truce," Banner replied as the brain trust turned to stand off against Doom.

Chapter 32: Ten Rings to Rule Them All

There was little fanfare as Black Doom began raining hell upon the four heroes. Vic, Ralph, Billy, and Janet scattered around the lab to either take cover or mount a counterattack. Black Doom had been a plague on both Captain Gamma and the Elemental Four for years; rivalries fueled by Doom's pettiness towards Billy and Ralph personally plus an insatiable crusade for world domination. Everyone there knew how dangerous Doom was firsthand, and they knew even together, that they were in for a bad time.

The Stamina of Shu, the Swiftness of Horus, the Strength of Amon, the Charisma of Dionysus, the Immortality of Osiris, the Chaos Magic of the Ogdoad, and the Courage of Mehen forged one of the most powerful sorcerers who ever lived. The Ennead of SHADOOM had tried to imprison Teth Von Doom in an Adth Metal tomb, sealed by the Orb of Ra, but when Ralph Richards and his family discovered it, it not only gave the four of them their powers but awakened Doom. He then twisted and reshaped the metal which imprisoned him into the very armor he wore.

Pinpoint was the first to go for an assault on Black Doom. She flew right up to Doom's face and began blasting her atomic energy stingers right into the gaps of his armor, more specifically the eyeholes. "Your armor's pretty lackluster, Doom! Even Stark knew to put a little glass in front of your eyes!" She taunted before shrinking further to about half an inch tall and flying straight towards the eyehole. As she got right up to it, she was sent flying back by a pulse of electricity emanating from Doom's own eyes.

"I WOULD CALL YOU AN INSECT, PALMER, BUT YOU AND PYM GIVE EVEN THEM A BAD NAME," Doom chided Janet as she was sent careening away. Ralph shifted his hand into that of a baseball mitt and stretched it up to catch her.

"You alright, Jan?" Ralph asked as he brought her down to his eye level.

Janet's suit was a tad singed, and she seemed a bit worse for wear. "I'll live, and I have an idea of how to subdue him, but I need time to get it together. Can you stall," She asked before hovering off Ralph's hand.

"We'll try our best, good luck," Ralph answered as he began stretching his body out to look bigger, in addition to diverting focus from Janet. The pixie of a woman flew away to another part of the lab to start assembling her contingency.

Green lightning burst from Doom's golden-coated fingertips. He raised his hands and sent the energy flying straight towards Ralph, but it was intercepted by Captain Gamma. He let out a mighty roar as he unleashed a blast of gamma radiation from his fists to counter it. He leaped into the air and out the hole in the wall to slam his fists down on Doom, trying to spike him like a volleyball. The fists connected, but Black Doom was unmoved.

Doom grabbed Captain Gamma's chest, "AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, EVEN WITH YOUR NEWFOUND CLARITY BANNER, YOUR POWER REMAINS UNAIMED, UNDISCPLINED, UNDER DOOM." With a flick of Doom's wrist, the Captain was sent plummeting to the ground, crashing into the pavement below with a mighty thud.

Cyberman had a look of fear on his face, luckily it was fully covered. He planted his feet and readied his arms. A pocket arsenal of guns, lasers, and missile launchers, emerged from all over his body, "Hey ugly, how do you them apples!" He then unleashed every weapon at once, alongside his repulsor blasts in the palms of his hands. But as each piece of ammunition reached Doom, they either dissipated or were shattered on impact with a mystical force field generated by Doom.

"I prefer the ones grown by the humble, yet prosperous orchardists of Khandaqveria. The ones I find here taste of wax and detergent," Doom answered before he sent the repulsor beams out of the force field back at Stark. He braced for impact and was pushed back, but Stark remained standing.

Stark turned to Ralph, "I thought that little bubble you two made was meant to be inescapable," he chastised Mr. Elastic before generating a holographic shield to block the next wave of arcane assault headed their way.

"It was supposed to be," Ralph answered defensively. "Billy and I spent weeks figuring out how to keep Doom locked down. It was supposed to anchor his soul to the city, even dying wouldn't have set him free!"

Stark briefly popped open the right side of his helmet, giving Ralph a look of disapproval. "And you all thought my methods were extreme," he chastised before re-shelling his head. "So, if I can't blast him, how do we take him down?"

"His powers operate in the same way Banner's do. Getting him to say his patrons' names should do the trick, at least for a little bit. He needs to say SHADOOM," Ralph answered as he stretched his arms out to wrap around two heavy pieces of machinery in front of him. "We just gotta keep him talking enough so we can trick him into saying it." He took a few steps back, straining his arms, and releasing.

He slingshotted up to Doom, as Mr. Elastic hit the force field, he seemed to squeeze through like pork through a meat grinder. Black Doom seemed quite upset by this. "No matter the size of the gap, a fluid can always seep through! Even through the mesh of your magic!" Ralph boasted as he started stretching and wrapping his body around Doom to restrain him.

"YOU HAVE BEEN A THORN IN MY SIDE FOR TOO LONG, RICHARDS! BUT TODAY, I EXACT MY FINAL REVENGE UPON YOU!" Doom bellowed with great gusto as he struggled against the ever-tightening bonds formed by Ralph wrapping him like a mummy.

"Why are you doing this, Teth? And how did you even break out of your prison?" Ralph asked as he craned his next around to face Doom.

"YOU ARE A SHORT-SIGHTED FOOL, RICHARDS! I COULD HAVE LEFT MY CRUDELY DESIGNED CAGE ANY TIME I LIKED. BUT I HAD GREATER DUTIES TO MY PEOPLE, WHICH GAVE YOU PEACE YOU NEVER DESERVED." Doom explained as his armor began to gradually grow hotter and hotter at the extremities. He began generating mystical fire as the symbol on his chest entailed. Eventually, it got to the point in which Ralph was starting to lose his form.

"Why now? You're a smart man, Doom. You never act irrationally, what do you have to gain from attacking us?" Ralph asked as he slowly melted off Doom's body.

"YOU ASK TWO QUESTIONS, RICHARDS AS IF THEY WERE ONE. A SMARTER MAN, A BETTER DETECTIVE, THAN YOU WOULD KNOW THE ANSWERS TO THEM BOTH BY NOW," Doom laughed in his slowly dropping face. " I OWE YOU NEITHER, BUT GRACIOUS AS I AM, I WILL PROVIDE YOU ONE. I GAIN THE SATISFACTION OF SEEING BOTH YOU AND BANNER FALL AT MY OWN HAND WHILE ENSURING THE SECURITY OF MY PEOPLE." With that, Ralph slipped off Doom's body and slipped through the cracks of his force field to land as a blue and black puddle on the ground.

Before Doom could gloat, Captain Gamma shot up like a rocket and uppercut Black Doom in the jaw. The armored demigod maintained his position in the air and grabbed the Captain by his cape, swinging him around to hurl him away. But the green goliath kept coming back to throw another punch after punch.

"You're putting a lot on the line over this, Doom! You can't govern your people if I launch you into the Sun!" Gamma threatened as he charged into Doom with his shoulder and slammed him to the wall.

Doom retaliated by shooting into the air and landing a foot dive into his chest, kicking off and going back into the air to do it again a few more times. "DOOM DOES WHAT HE DEEMS FIT! YOUR DISCIPLINE OVER THE MAGIC FLOWING THROUGH YOU IS NOTHING COMPARED TO MY OWN. FOR YOU, BANNER, YOU WILL BE NOTHING BUT THE RAMPAGING BRUTE YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN, WHILE I AM A GOD!"

This did less to harm Captain Gamma but angered him more. With enough podiatric pestering, the Captain grabbed Doom's leg and slammed into the floor, then picked him up, and slammed into a different part of the floor. He would also proceed to do this a few more times. He stared down at Doom in the crater formed by his rage, the Captain smirked, "Puny god."

The mage in the mask let out a raspy chortle after the ruthless display, "So, the Rage of Lyssa still lies within you, after all. To think, I thought you abandoned your rage so you could control both halves of yourself." Doom spoke softly for once, mocking the boy beneath the beast. "You sacrificed the force of nature which completed you, for what? Convenience? Your squandering sickens, Banner."

Doom's words struck a nerve within Banner, "You like Lyssa so much, how about Kratos," the Captain threatened, raising his fists to slam down on Doom.

"DOOM SHALL TAKE A GLYPH FROM THE WALL OF RA, THANK YOU," Doom opened his hand and let out a flash of blinding light, briefly stunning Captain Gamma. He then levitated from the crater and then flew up, blowing a separate portion of the wall to fly through for an escape.

Ralph had since reconstituted himself and he and Victor had come to join the two of them. Victor stayed out of that fight, realizing there was absolutely nothing he could have done to contribute. He looked up at the now two holes in the wall and scoffed, "That man has no respect for modern architecture."

"I'll get him, and I'll make him talk," Gamma said, pounding his fists together.

"Wait, Banner, this is all a-" Ralph interjected, but before he could finish, Captain Gamma had already launched himself out the second hole and rocketed after Black Doom. The polymorph's nose was still twitching even after the two demigods had left the building.

"What's wrong, Ralph?" Victor asked as he looked around the room.

"It doesn't make sense, Doom wouldn't attack us like this out of nowhere. Even if he did just get free, he'd have a much more elegant plan than that strange display. This felt like a diversion," Ralph explained. He put his hand to the side of his head and stretched and morphed his hand into the shape of a telephone. On paper, it wouldn't actually be functional, but he had his communication device installed in his glove. "Guy, come in, I need you to scope out the Artifact Room. Doom just showed up, and I-" Ralph would be cut off by the sounds of energy blasts, blows landing, and the revving of a car engine. "My family's in danger."

Victor heard the noise and immediately recognized it as the sound of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. "He's here, the Toymandarin's here," he said darkly as he started flying towards the stairwell of the Dibny Building to make it to the center of the building as fast as possible. Ralph was quick to wrap his arm around Victor's leg so that they could both hopefully get there in time.

Roughly fifteen minutes before Black Doom arrived at the Dibny Building, the Legion of Masters task force, containing Captain Winters, Toymandarin in the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. armor, Ms. Gigantic, Yon Sinestro, and Beta Ray Zero had begun their siege on the building. They initially snuck in through a series of tunnels below Manhattan. One of Captain Gamma and the Elemental Four's most recurring foes was King Mu'll the Elder, a prehistoric beast-man who tried to use a race of cave people to submerge the entirety of Staten Island underground. This did not work, but the tunnels were now being used by the Dibny Building to expel the exhaust created by powering all the facilities back underground like a massive artificial carbon sink.

These tunnels would lead directly inside the HVAC system of the Dibny Building. While they would always be unbearably hot for a normal person, this would not pose a problem for the members of the Legion, Yon Sinestro used his ring to make a shielding aura around each of the mortals to protect them from the heat. This combined with Captain Winters constantly firing concentrated cold ahead of them made their trek through New York's subterranea like a walk through Central Park.

Eventually, they reached the main vent leading straight up into the Dibny Building. Bezarro flew straight up, carrying Ms. Gigantic, while Sinestro transported Captain Winters and Toymandarin in a bubble construct. Winters made sure to tell Bezarro to "go down, and abandon me here," to prevent any misconception. When they arrived at the top, Winters also told Bezarro to "fix the grate" which led into the building's furnace. Still protected by Sinestro's shielding, they emerged from the fires of the furnace and into the bowels of the Dibny Building.

When they emerged, Bezarro set Kamala down gently, brushing off some ash and soot that built up on her shielding. "Stretchy girl dirty now," he said with a goofy smile on his monstrous mug.

"Tha-no, curse you Bezarro," Kamala responded, returning his smile with her own. Soon after, Yon-Sinestro dissipated his heat shielding on everyone, rendering anything Bezarro just did meaningless.

The Captain looked around the basement, checking for any cameras or security. When he didn't see anyone, he advanced towards the elevator, "Alright, Bezarro, I need you to be as loud and obstructive as possible. Everybody else, be quiet as hell."

Bezarro shook his head in response to Captain Winters' command, levitating ever so slightly off the ground and moving quick as lightning but silent as a shadow around the room. His equine head had a focused and determined look as he kept to the darker parts of the room.

Ms. Gigantic eyed Bezarro, "Why do you think he's like that?" She whispered to Yon-Sinestro, who was walking beside her.

"Like what? A calcified horse carcass?" Sinestro asked with a smirk.

"No, why does he process the opposite of everything people tell him? I mean, I don't mind putting a little more thought into what I say. But, I feel bad for him being so out of sync with the rest of him," Kamala elaborated, looking at the skulking Bezarro in the shadows.

"Luthorson used a cocktail of other beings's DNA combined with his brother's and his own to make Beta Ray Zero. When it came out, its brain was scrambled by the incestuous gene pool, not to mention its face," Sinestro answered callously. "The real question is why he bothers to keep it around and doesn't just make one that's less…broken."

"Oh, come on, Yon. Once you get past the whole backwards talking thing, he's really sweet. Sometimes I wonder if he really gets what's going on, and we're just using him," she responded with remorse.

"It was created to follow orders, its purpose is to obey. Its awareness of the situation is irrelevant to its usefulness. Let's just get a move on," Sinestro dismissed before approaching the elevator.

"He was made to be just like Thunderman. What happens when he figures out what Thunderman would do?" Kamala asked herself as they surrounded the elevator door.

Toymandarin had used his ring to interface with the circuitry of the elevator. Within a minute or so, the elevator popped open with a ding, and everyone except Bezarro filed in. He was going to fly after them in the shaft beneath the elevator so he could carry the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. armor.

Inside the elevator was a wall of around thirty-five buttons. Sinestro conjured a projection of the building's plans from his ring, "The artifact room is on the eighteenth floor."

Captain Winters nodded and hit the button marked "18." It flashed briefly, but the cart didn't rise. ["Secure Floor Selected: Please Perform Manual Bypass"] The elevator chimed. A small panel opened up on the side with what appeared to be a fingerprint scanner.

"Alright, Gigantic, this one's on you," Captain Winters said as he pulled a small black plastic mold. It was in the inverted shape of a fingerprint, Ralph Richards' fingerprint.

Ms. Gigantic took her finger and pressed it into the mold. Her polymorphic properties let her fingerprint reshape around the mold to match Ralph's. She then pressed her new altered finger to the scanner. With a few seconds of anticipation, the elevator accepted the authentication, and the elevator began rising to the floor with the Artifact Room.

Kamala let out a sigh of relief before the Captain patted her on the back, "Good job, kid. I gotta say, it's real nice to have a shapeshifter on the team."

The Legion eventually arrived in the Dibny Building's treasure trove. While the Iron Vault contained weapons, armor, and doomsday devices in its halls, the Dibny Building's spoils were those of explorers. The room was lined with souvenirs from lost cities, the darkest depths of the ocean, and beyond the stars. There were many pieces of advanced alien technology, but some of the artifacts were somehow mystical in nature. And somewhere among them were the remaining nine of the Toymandarin's Ten Rings.

Winwu looked at everything in the room and his eyes lit up like, well, a kid in a toy store. "Oh yes, so many new toys to play with! This is the happiest day of my life!"

"Eyes on the prize, Short Round, find your rings first, then we'll start pilfering the rest," Bucky advised, walking past a few glass cases. "Fan out and search for them. Don't touch anything that looks like it'll explode."

The Legionnaires searched the Artifact Room for the Nine Rings. Yon-Sinestro would stumble upon a Yellow Lantern Power Battery. He stared at it with disdain, remembering a time Guy Storm used a Yellow Ring himself.

Captain Winters found one of Ralph's inventions, The Absolute Nullifier, a machine designed to destroy Brainiactus. He eagerly smashed the case with his bionic arm and pocketed the device, thinking it would be very useful in a pinch.

Ms. Gigantic stumbled upon a peculiarly colored, massive, stone obelisk alongside many other stones and crystals. It was orange, white, and purple, with different textures for all the colors. Kamala couldn't place it, but it seemed awfully familiar. Her eyes then traced to a much smaller, but similar in shape. It was an Amazon Diviner, much like the one that unlocked her genetic powers.

She briefly thought about why she was here, and what brought her to this point. She wasn't afraid of the consequences, Sinestro took care of that. But she was still sad over losing every trace of her old life. Wonder Crystal had let her down, but Kamala felt she let Diana down, at least the idealized version of her that she spent her adolescence idolizing. Kamala could almost hear a voice, an eerie whisper, telling her to "Walk away now, no one would blame you. You still have a chance to be better."

Toymandarin wandered the display cases as if he were in a trance. His ring hand was stretched out, his one ring guiding him to its brothers and sisters. "Yes, bring them to me. Then playtime can finally begin," he said with his unsettling grin. The ring crackled with electricity as Winwu's arm jerked towards another display case. The case did not present the rings openly, instead, they were inside a wooden box. He was feet from regaining his full power, but it was just out of reach from his grubby little hands.

Winwu couldn't help but giddily laugh. "Oh, Mr. Glowstick, I can't reach the cereal box, and I want the prize inside!"

Yon-Sinestro assumed the boy was calling for him, and he hovered over, "Child, what are you even…oh. Perfect. Yes, let me get that for you." The Yellow Lantern constructed a Morningstar mace from his ring and did a sideswipe to smash the display case to bits. He reached out the grab the wooden box. There was a lock on it, but he could easily bust it open with his ring. But right before he could, he heard two words that spelled great annoyance.

"LIGHT'EM UP!" A brash, raspy, New Yorker accent shouted before Sinestro was hit by a flying tackle from Guy Storm, the second Human Lantern! Much like his predecessor, his body is awash in green light. His power didn't come from Alan Hammond's lantern, though. While Carol Jordan was away, he was Earth's guardian representative of the Kree Lantern Corps. Guy was a man overflowing with willpower, which made his light radiate off him like fire.

Captain Winters turned around to aim his cannon at Human Lantern, only upon firing would it bounce off an invisible force field he was now encased in. "We've been made, folks!" He called out as his trapper revealed herself. Hovering above them all was a pale white ghost in a tattered blue dress and blonde hair. It was Susan Richards, the Ghost Girl. Ethereal mist wisped off of her as she stayed in the air.

Ms. Gigantic embiggened her fists and stretched her limbs out just enough to not break through her clothes. Until Loxxi could get her into something that would stretch with her, Kamala was wearing all yellow spandex. But before she could throw a punch, the obelisk beside her grew a stony orange arm and crashed it across her jaw.

"It's Morphin' Time!" The obelisk cried out before it shifted around and reshaped into a humanoid form with a white head with a prominent brow, a bisected orange and purple torso, a brown muddy left leg, and a translucent crystalline right leg. This was Rex Grimm, the Element Thing. He knocked Kamala back as he stood firm like the earth.

As of now, three of the Elemental Four stood against four Legionnaires, but it was about to become even more unbalanced. "Bezarro, ignore me and get away, forget the armor! We're better off without you!" Bucky ordered, knowing Bezarro could hear him.

Right beneath the feet of Captain Winters, Bezarro shot up from under him, destroying the floor. "Goodbye, no one," the oaf greeted, the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. slung over his shoulder. He opened his maw and blasted a vomit of lightning at Ghost Girl. This brief staggering was enough for Susan to lose focus and dissipate the force field holding Bucky.

Captain Winters then fired a trail of ice on the floor, "Get the armor as far from the old man as possible," he ordered as he ran over to get between Toymandarin and Human Lantern.

Bezarro complied with the inverted orders, sliding the suit of armor the side of a small car across the ice right to Toymandarin's feet, "You are unwelcome!"

"I suppose playtime will have to wait. All work, no play makes Shu a dull boy," Winwu lamented before he popped open the cockpit of the mech and hopped inside.

"Look fellas, you guys are trespassing on private property, and while I'd love to give you guys a clobbering, I also don't wanna have to clean all this up. Do ya mind if we take this outside?" The Element Thing asked glibly. He pounded his stony fists together as he prepared for a fight.

"Don't bother with'em, Rex. Finhead's too stubborn to go quietly into the night. And I doubt the rest of these mooks got the brains to know when to quit either," Guy responded, referring to Sinestro.

Ghost Girl had since recovered from the electric vomit and rose back up, "We must keep the Nine Rings away from the Toymandarin, he's far too dangerous. Keep close, stay on the defensive, and protect each other," she advised her brother and the man she considered one.

"You ignored her, Bezarro, protect them," Bucky said with a smirk behind his mask. He then blasted the Element Thing with his Winter Cannon.

Bezarro flashed his unsettlingly monstrous grin as he rocketed straight towards the Ghost Girl, but he flew through her intangible form. He sent a volley of lightning from his gullet, but this time, they were blocked by another one of her force fields. She then disappeared into thin air, only to reappear behind the monster with her hand phased through his chest. She forced her way inside his body to attempt possession of him. He struggled to maintain his autonomy, but Susan repeatedly telling him "Do not resist, give in. You can not fight this," actually encouraged him to keep fighting back.

Sinestro was flying around the room, trying to find the box of rings that was knocked out of his hands by Guy. All the while, he was clashing back against Guy. From his ring were constructs of a bundle of snakes, slithering around the floor and searching for the box. The Human Lantern careened towards him, but Sinestro then also summoned a giant Fire Extinguisher to shroud the glowing green man in foam. "You are hardly enough of a threat to me, Storm. When we're done here, this paltry world will be under our control."

"Oh, wow, I'm so scared! Is all this really just to get Carol to notice you again? Face it, Yon! You're not worth her time anymore! So now you got me! Sorry if I bruised your ego before I bruised your face," the Human Lantern taunted. His green aura only burned brighter as he constructed a giant fist from his ring and cracked it across Sinestro's jaw. Breaking his focus, the snakes disappeared right before they snagged the box on the ground.

After Captain Winters was thrown back by the human rock slide, Ms. Gigantic joined the fray against the Element Thing. Kamala swung her arms around wildly, hammering away at the Element Thing, but Rex was far more versatile in combat than just a rocky brute. He slammed his arms into the floor and they crumbled apart into sand. The sand then rushed around Kamala and started dragging her down like quicksand. "Don't panic, kiddo. I ain't gonna bury you alive. Just gotta keep you off my back," he explained with a shrug as the sand buried her up to her head, only to transmute into concrete.

Ms. Gigantic tried to grow out of the imprisonment, but to no avail. Rex's masonry held firm. But if she couldn't grow, she could shrink. She managed to slip out of the bricks by compressing her body and propel her through the hole for her head. She sprung out and slammed down on the Element Thing's head. "I'm a little sorry about this, I've always thought you were pretty cool!"

At this point, Toymandarin finally got the armor online, and the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. 's engine purred. He piloted the armor towards Bezarro and Ghost Girl. With a few turns of knobs and pushes of buttons, a vacuum hose emerged from the mech's arm. A powerful suction arose as Susan was forcibly ripped from Bezarro's body, and into a container on the back of the armor. This was an augmentation the Toymandarin added to the armor during his time on the S.S. Doom.

"Doll man is Bezarro's enemy. Let us surrender on our lonesomes!" Bezarro shouted jovially as he readied his nail for another target.

It was around now that Guy would hear Ralph's voice over his commlink, "Guy, come in, I need you to scope out the Artifact Room. Doom just showed up, and I-" Human Lantern ignored Mr. Elastic's warnings and charged right towards the both of them, readying a blast of serious firepower from his ring. Bezarro retaliated with his lightning breath. Toymandarin then seized the opportunity, his engine revved up and he charged right into the Human Lantern, providing the equivalent effect of hitting somebody with a car.

The Toymandarin laughed giddily as he kicked the Human Lantern to the side and finally found the box of his rings amongst some of the debris created by the fight. The Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. popped open as he grabbed the one ring he used to control the armor, put it on, and exited the repurposed amalgamation of automobiles. The lock of the box had been busted by being thrown around everywhere. The boy opened the box to reveal the other Nine Rings. His eyes twinkled like a kid on Christmas, he finally had his favorite toys back.

"Hello, my best friends, sorry I've been away for so long," Winwu whispered emotionally as he opened his hands. He willed the remaining rings beginning to levitate from the box and swirl around him.

By now, Cyberman and Mr. Elastic had arrived on the scene, but they were far too late. Ralph unwrapped himself from Vic's leg and rushed to aid his family in handling the rest of the Legion. Meanwhile, Vic stepped towards the Toymandarin, his mask fully sliding over his face to not show any emotion. Inside, he was feeling a mix of rage, hate, and fear towards that child. However this ended, he wasn't going to go back under his thumb.

"Toymandarin! Drop the rings, NOW!" Stark ordered as he raised his arm, shifting it into a repulsor cannon. His voice did not crack or waver, maintaining a chilling metallic timbre ready to come crashing down in the forest.

The Toymandarin did not heed Cyberman's warning, the rings just slipped onto his fingers, fitting to his hands effortlessly. As each one found its home, they crackled with different colors of energy. He crossed his arms across his chest with his hands out to show off all ten fingers adorned with rings, and his sadistic little smile between them all. "Oh, Action Figure, I've been feeling so lonely for so long. You kept me in a box, a few boxes. It took a while until you found one that could hold me. As I aged, I depreciated in value. I lost so much playtime. I won't make the same mistakes you did," he explained as he tilted his head to the side. "I'll add you to my collection permanently, and we'll be able to play…forever!"

The fight was on, Cyberman opened with a repulsor blast straight for the child's face. Toymandarin blocked it using the ring on his left pinky to make a force field. He then used the ring on his right index finger to take the debris around them to transform into an army of human sized toy soldiers, and by using his left index finger's right to control them, they opened fire on Cyberman.

Cyberman took a page from Wonder Crystal's book and blocked the shots with his forearms. Since the toy soldiers were just reconfigured chunks of stone, their bullets were basically pebbles. He flew in and shattered one with a punch, blasted three more, and then ripped the final one's head off. He swiped his arm down to slam into Toymandarin, but he used his left ring finger's ring to shoot a blast of fire to rocket him away from Cyberman's strike.

"These rings, my friends, they're just like riding a bike, you never forget how to use them," Toymandarin taunted gleefully. "Although, I've never ridden a bike. You made sure I never had the opportunity." Winwu's mask fell for a moment as he mourned for a childhood he never had.

"Your childhood was nothing but tormenting me and threatening the lives of hundreds of thousands for your sick and twisted games! I'm gonna put you away for good!" Whether that meant in a prison cell or a pine box was unclear, judging by the fury in Stark's voice. He got a running start and rocketed straight towards Toymandarin. In a fit of rage and hate, he made a reckless mistake: he got in too close.

"All I wanted was to have fun, but the world could never let me have that!" Toymandarin said before using his left middle ring to telekinetically hold Cyberman in place, inches from his face. He then readied the rings on his left index and right middle to combine his psionic and electronic control to invade the mind of Victor Stark. "After years of suffering, I can finally get my favorite toy back."

The power of the rings took control of every circuit coursing through Cyberman's body. Even without Winwu's telekinesis, he wouldn't be able to do anything. He was feeling the same helplessness that plagued him all those years ago. He screamed for help, for anyone to break him from the hell he dreaded for so many years, but the mask he used to prevent vulnerability muted anything he tried to say. His HUD was disabled, GRID went silent, he was alone.

Victor dreaded what Winwu could do with him now under his control. That grand perspective he saw every day was now for this child to view. His control over the digital realm turned cyberspace into the Toymandarin's newest playhouse. The weaponry and technology he had access to would belong to him, and he could bring forth armageddon.

His greatest fear was how he would be forced to hurt his friends. The Elemental Four would be the first. A repulsor at the proper frequency could disrupt Ralph's molecules and turn him into human spaghetti. Rex and Guy wouldn't be able to handle all of the Legion and himself. Toymandarin could use him to send the Dibny Building crashing down, killing thousands in the wreckage. The Watchtower would be closed off from the League, anyone on there would be lost in space. Anyone with an ID card could be teleported into the Sun.

Victor realized all the power he held could be so easily misused by someone not meant to carry it, and he wondered whether he ever deserved it in the first place. He had always known the thing he had become put him on track to becoming a tyrant over the world, and Victor had often wrestled with whether that was something he truly wanted. He knew that he shouldn't think like that, but that nagging part of his brain always told him that it was his right, but was that the machine side of him talking, or him?

None of that mattered now, he was the plaything of the Toymandarin. He was rendered less than human, another sentiment he dealt with even before he became the Cyberman. Victor wanted to keep fighting, but it was overtaken by a wave of hopelessness. That was the impact of Toymandarin's left index ring, the psionic control which brought the toys to life, could also drain the mental life out of others. However needed, it would replace whatever will was there with that of its wielder. The man inside the shell simply wallowed in his despair, and embraced the inevitable.

Toymandarin was overjoyed with taking back his favorite action figure. Getting Cyberman was not part of the plan, but if they were able to snag such a valuable asset, they were going to take it. Meanwhile, the rest of the Legion were distracting the others. Ms. Gigantic and Mr. Elastic were having a battle of polymorphs, Sinestro was holding down the Human Lantern while fighting off the Element Thing, and Bezarro was using his nail to break apart the rocks that kept Captain Winters trapped. He was very confident about how the situation was going.

"Rise, my Action Figure, on your feet!" Toymandarin shouted as he raised his arm up, yellow and pink threads branching off his fingers and around Cyberman's limbs like a marionette. Ironic, considering how the boy himself looked like a ventriloquist dummy. Cyberman rose, but the lights on his armor glowed a dim fuschia.

"Good toy, now turn around, and destroy the ot-," Toymandarin was cut off by an ear splitting whirring from the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. 's sonic cannon. The boy stumbled over, breaking his hold over Cyberman.

Victor's face lit up with hope as his HUD shined on his face once again. He regained control of his body and blasted Toymandarin with his repulsor to send the child flying back against the wall, hitting it with a light thud. He kept his distance as he readied a laser mounted on his forearm. He looked up to the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E., confused over who was piloting it. "Rhodey?"

There was no body inside the armor, but rather a spirit. "Not even close, Vic. Good to see you're alright, and that Winwu sprung for the cheap vacuum bags," commented Susan Richards, who was possessing the mechanical monster and controlling it from within the very circuits.

Toymandarin peeled himself off the wall and triggered the ring on his right pinky to heal himself of the bruises and potential concussion he just received. His eyes bulged from his head with rage and he let out a shriek only a child could make, "NNNNO! You won't take my toys! Not again!" He screamed petulantly before using his telekinesis and matter transmutation rings to take more of the debris and send them at the two armored heroes in the form of dodgeballs.

The barrage looked like harmless rubber projectiles, but were still made of stone. This surprise is what knocked the helmet of the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. clean off. But as there was no living human inside, Sue was just fine. "It's rather rude to take somebody's head off. Someone should teach you some manners, young man," she said in a condescending tone like a disappointed mother. She used her force fields to pick the helmet up and then used the armor's arms to fix it back on, letting out a little giggle at the physical comedy of the situation.

Stark chuckled, it felt nice not being the one talked down to for once, "Ralph's a lucky man, Sue. Let's finish him."

Toymandarin at the two of them, readying his rings to take control again, but he was stopped in his tracks by one of Sue's force fields. He was trapped inside a little bubble and raised into the air. There were a few invisible air holes so he could breathe, but he couldn't do much aside from that.

Stark popped open half of his mask, looking surprised, "Huh, well that was…easy. Oh god, wait, no! I didn't mean that!" He said with deep regret. Whenever someone in their line of work said something was too easy, something really bad always happens.

Beta Ray Zero's nail was launched from across the room and pierced right through the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E., the armor was obliterated and Ghost Girl was left uncovered. The nail then returned to the beast's hand. Mr. Elastic was rendered a brittle ice sculpture in the center of the room, courtesy of Captain Winters. Part of his costume was ripped off and wrapped around Ms. Gigantic's forearm. Lastly, the Element Thing lay unconscious on the ground under the heel of Yon Sinestro.

"I'd suggest you put down the child, Ms. Richards. I'm not certain how they'd bury you. What would even be left?" Yon Sinestro asked rhetorically as he raised his ring to the two remaining heroes.

Bezarro twirled the nail between his fingers. "You am in good situation."

Chapter 33: The Man and the Monster

The room had devolved into chaos as Cyberman went toe to toe with four members of the Legion of Masters, all to keep them away from the boy who could hold his strings. His main objective right now was to keep them away from Ghost Girl, who was keeping the boy contained and disoriented by spinning him around mid-air in a force field bubble.

Victor knew Thor would be coming as soon as he was done with whatever personal project he was working on, so he just had to stall until then. He tried sending a ping to Thor’s ID card, but after Toymandarin’s meddling, his external connections were still booting back up. So he was on his own for now. He had no idea what the Legion had planned for Toymandarin’s rings, but he could not let them get their hands on them. He threw his half mask back on and readied his cannon for a fight. “Do you really believe you can stand against us, Stark? The boy nearly had you by the bolts, and now you don’t have your roadie’s armor to back you up. Your only assistance is the chance you have to succeed: a ghost,” Sinestro teased with a snicker. “Don’t scuff his paint too hard,” Toymandarin called out from within Ghost Girl’s force field bubble. He tried to use any of his rings to free himself from his translucent prison, but everything just bounced right off and back into him. He let out a high-pitched whine as he raged against his confines.

“Just focus on keeping him contained, Sue. I’ll hold the line like always, at least until the big guy gets here,” Victor instructed uneasily. He was extremely nervous, but kept his bravado so as to not appear weak.

“I’ll do you one better, Vic,” Sue said with a sly smile as she held out her hands before both she and Toymandarin faded into thin air. She had turned them invisible to make it even harder for the Legion to free him. “Just get these guys out of my home,” her voice carried on the wind.

Toymandarin let out another adolescent screech, “HEY, I’M OVER HERE! GET ME OUT OF HERE,” the boy yelled as his voice bounced around the room like a super ball.
“Fan out, folks! Cover as much ground as you can to find the kid!” Captain Winters ordered the team as he started blasting his cannon around aimlessly, trying to cover the invisible targets in frost to make them easier to find.

Vic let out a sigh of slight relief, making his job just a tad easier, “Sue, you are fantastic for that! Just keep him out of the way,” he took a quick deep breath, “Alright, you got this,” he whispered to himself before charging straight into the fray.

“Bezarro, assist him!” Captain Winters ordered as he sent out a barrage of icicles every which way.

Bezarro stared at Cyberman and flew straight into him, swinging his nail right into the cyborg’s chest. “Bezarro hug shiny man!” He followed up with a tight grapple leading into a suplex into the ground behind him.

Cyberman then used the repulsors in his feet to blast Bezarro in the shoulders and make some distance to escape his grasp. “Who taught the Reverse-Centaur wrestling moves,” he quipped, almost on instinct before reorienting himself to fire a missile from his arm, but nothing happened. He had expended all of his ballistic weaponry during the fight with DOOM. “Damnit!” Instead, he resorted to blasting the creature in his mangled face with his repulsor.

While Bezarro was briefly disoriented, Victor was smashed to the floor again by a massive hand. Ms. Gigantic then picked him up in her giant grip. She stared at him with a combination of awe at herself and relishing being able to hurt him.

The polymorph stretched her neck up so she could meet Cyberman’s gaze as he was raised into the air. “I looked up to all of you, dreamed of standing beside you. But when I needed you to save me, save me from a system that YOU helped make so much stronger, you forgot about me. S.H.I.E.L.D. looked at me and thought I didn’t deserve justice. Well I’m getting justice now.” Kamala ranted as she slammed Victor into a wall.

“I admit that you should never have been there, but that stunt you pulled isn’t gonna make anything better for you. Once Luthorson and the rest of these guys are done with you, you’ll be on your own, and then you’ll face actual justice for what you’ve done.” Victor retorted as he charged up a unibeam from his chest to burn Kamala’s hand to the point she had to let him go.

“You arrogant ass, Stark! There’s no justice, just order. The League is a bunch of fascist tools of those in power, and you’re the biggest tool of them all,” Kamala called out as she stretched her arm out to smack at Victor again. But as her embiggened hand went to swipe at the cyborg, it swatted away the careening invisible bubble holding Toymandarin, making him continue to fly around the room at an erratic rate.

Victor turned his attention towards Sinestro, whose ring was creating constructs of searchlights to scan around to find the slightest changes in light refraction to determine the location of Toymandarin’s bubble. The Cyberman rocketed into the air and tackled the Kree warrior.

“I’ve been able to figure out everybody’s angle here, Yon. But why are you of all people working for Loxxi Luthorson? And if the League are fascists according to the taffy girl, what the hell does that make you?” Victor asked as he sent the man in yellow crashing to the ground.

Sinestro constructed a large magnet in his hand to grip Stark’s metallic parts to send him up into the ceiling, then slamming him down again into the floor. There were a large number of Cyberman shaped craters appearing in this room over the past few minutes. “You insolent machine. I’m no mere crony of that bald buffoon. I’m only here for a decent frittata, a new blob of clay to mold, and the chance to make all of you look like fools. If feigning a knee gets me this much entertainment, it’s worth it!”

Sinestro then turned the magnets into long, glowing whips. He swung them down onto Victor, only for the man to catch them in his hands. “Do you know what you are, Yon? You’re pathetic! You ruled a planet by fear for years because you were too weak to find better ways. You swear to the entire universe that fear is the only way to keep peace. But the only person who cares enough to stand in your way personally won’t even give you the time of day anymore. You think you’re hot shit, but really, you’re a broken record who could only get played in a medley. You’re only here because you’re bored and need somebody to listen to you!”

Victor then used the whips to swing Sinestro into the other display cabinets before the alien lost focus and the constructs dissipated. He aimed his repulsor to blast Sinestro, but was held at gunpoint by Captain Winters. Not with his Winter Cannon, but with the Absolute Nullifier.

“This thing sent a world eater packing, what do you think it’ll do to you, Cyberman?” Bucky asked as he brandished it to Victor’s head.
“Do it, Frosty. You don’t have the snowballs,” Victor egged him on with a smirk behind his mask.

Captain Winters pulled the trigger on the device, but instead of an earth-shattering kaboom, a little spritz of water shot out and splashed on Cyberman’s chest. The Absolute Nullifier never actually did anything beyond being a stylish water pistol. Mr. Elastic had made that little trinket as a complete bluff. Victor then slugged Bucky across the face, knocking his face mask off and dropping him to the floor.

When Bezarro came to, he looked around the room. He listened intently for Toymandarin’s voice, and amidst all the chaos, he could here that squeaky little voice shout, “My Little Pony, ignore my bubble and let it fly around with me inside it!”

Once Bezarro knew the opposite of what to do, he used his Beta Ray Vision. It was like X-Ray Vision, but weirder. Instead of being able to see through things, he could now no longer see through transparent things. So the only thing he could see was the invisible Ghost Girl and the bubble containing the Toymandarin. “Bezarro capture doll man!” He yelled before launching his nail point first through the air, and sent it piercing through the bubble, popping it, and freeing Toymandarin. The nail was then wedged into the wall behind it.

Yon Sinestro stood back up, noticing that he could finally see Toymandarin, “Alright, he’s out, everyone get close!” He flew right next to Toymandarin and used his ring to grab and wake up Captain Winters with a construct of a large hand smacking him. Ms. Gigantic then moved over to stand behind them all. But due to the command, Bezarro did the opposite and flew away from them to grab his nail.

“Wait, Monster, get over here!” Sinestro called out before hearing his mistake, “Damn it!”

“He’ll find us again, he’s like a puppy, Short Round, work your magic!” Captain Winters assured and ordered.

“Gladly, I hardly ever get to use this ring. It’s nice to make all my toys feel included,” Toymandarin replied with a smile before shooting the ring on his right ring finger into the air. A black beam shot from it, then created an all black round dome around them. Cyberman tried to rocket in to stop Toymandarin, but was punched away by Ms. Gigantic. The dome encased the four villains, and a loud whirring and whooshing could be heard from within. And in seconds, the black dome, and the Legionnaires were gone.

Right as Bezarro was about to retrieve his nail from the wall, he was hit with a small, metal disc with a glowing yellow center. He then started shrinking and kept shrinking down to the size of an insect, and the disc then turned into a tiny capsule to hold him. The disc then clattered to the floor. His nail was still embedded in the wall. Its source was Pinpoint, who had missed the entire battle up until that point presumably working on that.

“Jan? Where have you been this whole time?!” Sue called out incredulously as she faded back into visibility. “We could’ve really used you five minutes ago.”
“Five minutes ago, I was working on that little shrinking capsule to be able to hold Doom! But then he left, and then the boys left, so I thought I’d keep working on this! And evidently, I was right to.” Pinpoint explained with pride in her voice at her invention successfully capturing Beta Ray Zero.

Sue floated over to the disc on the ground, turned invisible, then picked it up. She could either be seen, or be touched, but never neither nor both. She peered at the tiny horse man trying to bust through the container, bouncing around like a jumping bean. “Okay, I admit, this is fairly impressive.”

“Thank you! That’s all I wanted to hear,” Janet replied with a giggle. “We were talking about humane ways of containing supervillains upstairs, so I just thought of shrinking them down so they can’t hurt anybody would be a good idea.” She grew to normal size and took the disc from Sue so she could make herself visible again. Her base height was still quite short, around 5’2”.
“Something to look into,” Sue replied with an impressed look. “Mind helping me get everyone to the infirmary, and Ralph under some heat lamps?” Sue requested, looking over at the frozen Mr. Elastic just a few feet away from them.

Janet looked at the people who were downed: Cyberman, Element Thing, Human Lantern, and an ice sculpture. All of whom were very heavy, and she did not possess any superhuman strength. “Another option. I think Vic said Thor was on his way. He’s a doctor and also a massive hunk. Maybe we just wait for him to show up in like two minutes, and we watch him do all of that heavy lifting.”

“I like the way you think, Jan,” Sue nodded in approval.

“Thanks, so do I,” Janet replied proudly.

Soon afterward, Thunderman would come onto the scene to provide aid to the Elemental Four and Cyberman. He’d used his hammer’s magic to thaw Ralph out of the ice quicker than usual and used the hammer’s other healing properties to fix up Guy and Rex. “Sorry I was late. I was handling a personal matter, and I could not be distracted. Perhaps that was selfish of me,” Thor said regretfully as he kept the Beam of Tomorrow trained on the Element Thing’s body.

“Eh, don’t get your helmet feathers ruffled, big guy. Obviously, you ain’t the only guy who can handle Beta Ray Zero. You can’t be there to save everybody, and you don’t gotta be. Just being here to pick up the pieces after is enough,” Rex responded with a wry smile and a dismissive wave of his hand, fragments of stone rising to reattach to it. “So, thanks for doing that, Doc.”
Meanwhile, Guy was using his ring to construct a space heater to keep warming up Ralph. “With Sinestro back in play, things are only gonna get bigger and badder. I should call Carol and get her in on this,” the Human Lantern suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Doom may be involved with this as well. With the influx of powers coming together, we all need to be prepared for the worst,” Ralph replied with his nose continuing to twitch with concern.

At this point, Captain Gamma also came back to help with cleanup. Cyberman glared at the Captain with his one good eye. “So where the hell did you go?! We just got out asses handed to us when you could’ve handled all of this yourself!”

“I was going after Doom to try and get more intel about the Legion. I knew he was a diversion, but letting him run around unchecked would be worse,” Gamma explained plainly, “Besides, if you guys got smashed even with six of you here, that’s on you.”

“Well enlighten us, Jade Jaws, what did you divine?” Cyberman asked, approaching Captain Gamma with a stern expression.

The Captain retrieved a crushed metal mask from within his hood. “Well, for one, that wasn’t really Doom, just one of his robots in his stead. Hate the damn things,” he answered with a growl, “But on a lighter note, it seems like this was a one time deal. He told me this was to settle a debt to someone he respected.”

“That’s rather out there, who the hell even does the world’s most egotistical man respect?” Guy asked incredulously.

“Well, for starters, Sarge and Diana. They handled that thing with the U.N. for him that one time,” Vic suggested to the group.

“It wouldn’t be Loxxi, that’s for sure. There needed to be a third party to get the two of them to even stand each other in the same room,” Thor added, placing his hand to his chin.

“What about those who would’ve been around during his Ancient Egyptian days? He and Nabu were close, but Fate’s gone. That just leaves…” Ralph said with a pause.

“Logan,” the Captain finished Ralph’s thought.

“He was pretty torn up about us taking Erik’s Helm from the museum. He’s been pretty torn up about pretty much everything,” Victor iterated as he thought back to the last time they spoke. “Logan’s been in the wind since then. But I have no idea why he’d shack up with the Legion.”

Just then, Janet had walked into the room at normal size, holding a large transparent jar. “I have Bezarro secured in a container with high air pressure. That stuff makes Thor stronger, so as his

opposite, Bezarro should be neutralized,” she explained with a touch of pride.

Thor looked to Janet, then the other heroes, “I suppose I’ll find out for certain. I shall meet with Diana at the Themyscrattilan Embassy so we can interrogate him there. She knows I’m coming.”

“Need me to teleport you there, Thor?” Victor offered.

“Thank you, Victor. I’m not sure how the container would handle me flying at such high speeds,” Thor answered with a smile. “Oh, and Dr. Palmer, thank you for the assistance. Perhaps we may call upon you and Doctor Pym more in the future. Send Martin my best,” he said kindly before Victor triggered Thor’s ID card and transported him to Gateway City, New Jersey.

Meanwhile, on the S.S. Doom, the members of the Legion appeared in the darkest corner of the ship. Spirits were unusually high as the mission was almost a total success. Kamala gave Winwu a look of curiosity as she eyed his ring. “So what does creating large orbs of pure darkness have to do with toys?”

“Some toys can glow in the dark. This ring lets those toys function,” the boy replied matter of factly, as if that made the ring absolutely indispensable as part of the set.

Loxxi approached the team, wearing a loud set of green and pink robes paired with his horned helmet. “Welcome back! It’s good to see that our benefactor’s shadow portals are compatible with Toymandarin’s Dark Force ring. Mr. Winwu, are you sure that you’ll be able to fix GRODD’s crown now?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll get straight to work. And when I’m done, perhaps I’ll start making myself a new armor,” Winwu answered before scampering off to the workshop portion of the ship.

“The Four and Cyberman gave us some trouble at first, boss. But Doom softened ‘em up for us, and he kept the big green guy out of our way. The team was a real great unit. The two kids were dynamite, I tell ya. You shoulda seen the way Stretch over there knocked the Tinker Toy out cold with one massive punch to the everywhere,” Bucky debriefed Loxxi about the details of the mission like a football coach who was deeply proud of his team, especially his rookie players.

“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good. I see the Iron S.T.R.I.P.E. is gone, but I reckon there was a necessity to abandon such a…rudimentary piece of hardware,” Loxxi said with a roll of his eyes. “What matters is we have the rings, and everyone made it home.” Upon saying that, Loxxi’s eyes darted around the room and he realized someone was missing, “On that subject, Barnes, where is my monster?”

Chapter 34: A Bizarre Interrogation

Fairly soon after Thor arrived, Diana had some of the Themyscrattilan Embassy staff take the capsule holding Bezarro and take it to one of the interrogation rooms. The embassy’s main function was holding onto Inhuman Amazon criminals for extradition. But it also provided information about her people’s culture for those who recently learned of their heritage. What Diana was most proud of with the embassy was giving anyone who arrived an opportunity to learn from the Inhuman Amazonian ideals, at least the parts Diana was willing to share, and apply them to their own lives to become stronger, wiser, and especially kinder people.

Once Bezarro was secure, she guided Thor to one of the holding rooms in the Themyscrattilan Embassy, where they were now holding the shrunken Beta Ray Zero. “He’s been oddly quiet. All he said was that he’d only ignore you. Communicating with him has been very difficult. I don’t envy constantly fighting someone like that,” she said uneasily as she looked past other holding rooms at the embassy.

“I think we both have our fair share of disconcerting enemies. There are always those we wish we could save. Their very existence reminds you of where you have fallen.” Thor responded with a sigh.

“I have the woman I loved and neglected, and the girl I failed to guide. The fact I didn’t do enough to save either of them keeps me up at night,” Diana responded, putting her hand to her head. “And we both have our share of…eclectic family members. But what is he to you? Loxxi made him, but made him out of you. It’s like staring at the broken shards of a funhouse mirror. He can wield your hammer, do you think he is good?” Diana continued to question, brooding over her own guilty conscience.

“Beta Ray Zero is everything my brother wishes I were. His mind is fractured so because the only way to create a version of myself that would actually follow his mad tantrums would be to completely invert his way of thinking. But beneath that, there is a noble heart beating within his chest, and a pure soul that just wants to protect those he loves. That is what makes him worthy of the hammer of Krypton,” Thor explained as he clutched the handle of his hammer tightly in his fist. “But as worthy as he is, he is misguided so far that even I struggle to try and aim him, and that is what makes him dangerous, a villain by fate.”

“Well, let’s hope we can turn fate on its head. I could use a proper “W” after these past few weeks,” she said, patting the monogram on her breastplate. “Even as gods, it feels like there is so much beyond our control. We want to do so much to help, but any actual change always feels so far out of reach. Does that ever make you feel weak?”

Thor’s smolder turned to a warm smile as he patted Diana on the shoulder, “I had never thought you one to lose faith, Diana. A god’s nature is not to move the heavens and Earth, but rather inspire others to recreate heaven on Earth.” After that, he entered the room holding Bezarro’s capsule.

“Sometimes I question whether we even do that,” Diana muttered to herself before following him in.

Thor would walk up a small pedestal with the capsule on top of it. The capsule itself was inside another larger bottle, which had a heavy fog surrounding it. As storms gave Thor his powers, while clear sunlight would weaken him, the reverse was in place for Bezarro. The miniature monster was turned away from Thor, but acknowledged his presence.

“Goodbye, Thor,” Bezarro greeted in an uncharacteristically hostile tone.

“Horribly met, Beta Ray Zero. Blame me for thine stellar accommodations. But we have very little to discuss, and thou must be let to run wild,” Thor responded, keeping composed while navigating through the backwards talk.

“Bezarro have lots to say. Me just want to stay here and leave destroyer behind,” the monster replied as he turned around to face Thunderman.

“Alright, that was about as much as I could manage. Diana, do your thing,” Thor requested flippantly.

Wonder Crystal popped open her canteen and summoned her Lasso of Purity from its waters. She cast it around the capsule holding Beta Ray Zero, and slowly seeped it into the fog inside of it. The lasso’s magic would purify the monster’s warped mind. The very electrical signals bouncing through his brain would finally flow in the right direction from positive to negative, giving him a sense of clarity he never had before. His ghastly, glowing white eyes would finally fade to reveal crystalline blue irises, just like Thor’s.

“How do you feel, Beta Ray Zero?” Thor asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Me…I feel…better. Like I just got out of a maze that I’ve been in since birth,” Bezarro responded in a voice not too far removed from his old one, but with a more deliberate cadence.

“Hm, I never considered him like the Minotaur, though I suppose it makes sense,” Diana commented, impressed that using the Lasso worked as intended.

“What trickery is Loxxi planning, Zero? His Legion of Masters are taking valuable items from important people. The rings, the crown, what are they for?” Thor loomed over the tiny capsule, gripping the sides of the pedestal to try and intimidate Beta Ray Zero.

“Loxxi will save the world and rebuild in his image. Loxxi will fix everything to finally make people love him. All Loxxi wants is to be loved. That’s why I exist,” the monster replied, glaring up at Thunderman, unmoved by his attempts to rattle him.

“Loxxi has always desired to be loved. But he fails to remember that love is gained by building trust with them. He will never learn the value of human life beyond the value they have to him.” Thor noted with contempt. “And that includes you, too.”

“What about you, Thor? Couldn’t he have done that better had you just been the brother he needed? Everyone needs something to be the best they can be, and it looks like that was a job for Thunderman.” Bezarro responded with a similar venom. “If you just loved him as a brother, he’d never have needed to make me.”

This made Thor think. Could he have used his brother to do more good had he just supported his brother, albeit aiming his ambition in the right direction? Was merely foiling him just enabling him to hurt more people? “And what do you need, Beta Ray Zero? What is your best self?”

“I’m staring at him. To save the world, Loxxi needs a Thunderman. He needs a brother to be there to support him. And if you can’t stand to face him, I’ll gladly take your place, even if my face isn’t what people want,” Bezarro answered as he put his hand to his crusty, mangled face as he looked upon Thor with deep envy.

“What is the Legion aiming to do, Beta Ray Zero? You can tell us,” Diana commanded as she flicked her wrist and the fog inside the canister began swirling around, creating a strange chill through Bezarro’s body. She looked upon the creature with pity; he didn’t ask to be like this. He was only doing what his fractured mind was telling him was right.

Bezarro staggered against the lasso’s power, coughing in the fog. It almost seemed to choke him until he spat out a response, “We’re warping reality with powerful magic, so we can satisfy the deepest wishes of every person on Earth!”

The answer shook both of them. Using magic to warp reality made enough sense, but doing it to serve the people? It didn’t really seem on brand for Loxxi. Thor and Diana shared a glance, pondering whether that would even work.

“So, he gives everyone in the world whatever they want, and then what?” Thor asked, trying to understand Loxxi’s logic.

“Loxxi wants to be the man who gave them the world. He wants to buy their worship through gifts. He says he’ll do more for them than you ever did. And we’ll be worshipped as the ones who actually did something to better their lives, not just the ones who only come in to revert things as they were. We’ll be their heroes, and Loxxi will finally get the love he always desired,” Bezarro explained with a smile. “They’ll remember what came before, most of them at least, and realize how much better the world is with the Legion as its leaders. And kids will look up in the sky, not see a bird, a plane, or even you, but me.”

“Altering reality for almost eight billion different people, that can’t be possible, let alone sustainable. Granting every person’s wish at once would lead to absolute chaos, society would collapse in on itself in a week!” Diana refuted the idea, remembering an event similar to this happening to her a few years ago.

“Of course it would, that’s why we’re also reorganizing the world itself so that it can sustain our work. How to Make the Whole World Happy: The Ultimate Puzzle. The purpose of this plan is to make it work in the long run. This is to make them see the world outside their window, know it’s manufactured, and still choose it,” Bezarro explained confidently. He may have just been the muscle on the team, but he comprehended every aspect of what he was told. He believed in it not just because it was Loxxi’s plan, but because he wanted to see this world himself. “I just want to make people happy, like you do. If this is the best way to do it, then I’ll do anything to make it happen.”

“And what if, after all you’ve done, what if they still don’t love you?” Thor asked with a stern look, terrified at the thought of what they might do to those “ungrateful” for their actions.
“They will, they have to,” Bezarro answered. “But I guess if they aren’t, then it’ll be a job for Bezarro.” He seemed sad as he answered that.

“One more question,” Diana interjected, “Where is the Legion’s base?” Her grip tightened as she forced the Lasso’s vapors to work their magic harder.

Bezarro struggled hard. The mists inside swirled around him, trying to force the purest truths out of him. He tried forcing his own jaw shut to keep himself from spilling, but the truth always came out eventually. “The base is in the middle of the ocean, and we’re always moving around. But we stayed hidden through–” Before he could elaborate, there was a loud explosion coming from the front of the embassy.

“I’ve got it, you guard him,” Thunderman ordered instinctively as he readied his hammer and immediately bolted out of the room to the main lobby of the embassy to either face the threat or evacuate civilians.

“Sounds like Daddy’s here to pick me up,” Bezarro interjected with a grin. “Thanks for listening, by the way. It’s rare in my line of work.”

Diana let out a slightly annoyed sigh, “Of course he’d leave me on guard duty in my own building.” She took Bezarro’s canister and used her lasso to affix it to her belt. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, so I’d suggest you hold onto something. I have others to protect,” she advised before joining Thor in the lobby.

The lobby of the embassy was blazing with green fire. At the entrance stood Loxxi Luthorson in a ridiculously flashy gold and purple outfit. It was a purple unitard with a frilled golden collar, chestplate, trunks, boots, and spiked cuffed gloves over it. Of course, all combined with his extravagant gold helmet. The mystic flames erupted violently from Loxxi’s staff as he bellowed, “WHERE IS MY MONSTER?!”

With a loud boom as Thunderman rapidly entered the room, he took his hammer and spun it rapidly in the air, creating a vortex which sucked the air around the room towards him, diminishing the fire. He then pointed his hammer towards Loxxi, “You are mad, brother. There are innocent mortals among us!”

“Are there, though? Look around, the embassy is empty,” Loxxi responded as he gestured around the room. There was nobody in there but them. “I presented an offer, a large sum of cash, to every worker here to leave the building and not come back for a few hours. I may have the power of Chaos Magic now, but money was the first true power I mastered.”
“How did you know where to find Beta Ray Zero?” Thor asked, now a little less tense, knowing less was on the line.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have my own creation, my favorite one at that, and not have them installed with a tracking chip? You deeply underestimate my intelligence, brother.” Loxxi answered smugly, “Now, let me repeat myself. Where is my monster?”

“He remains with us, Loxxi. As will you once I am done with you,” Thor proclaimed before leaping up and charging down at Loxxi with his hammer.

The hammer had phased through Loxxi’s body before it rippled away in a green light. It was merely an illusion cast by him. Loxxi then appeared behind Thunderman and sliced him in the back with his staff.

“All your power, all your senses, and you still lack the vision to see what I am trying to build, brother! When I succeed, they will only resent you for stopping them from doing it sooner!” Loxxi proclaimed with another blast of his staff.

“You speak of power to override the choices of the mortals. This is the world they have built, it is not our place to reshape their destinies!” Thor answered as he blocked the blasts with a twirl of his hammer.

“Had you done more to better their lives, I would not have needed to step in as I am. They suffer, languish in squalor, and tear each other apart, even with you to “lead by example.” My acts are a response to your pathetic inaction! What I will give them is perfect! Be perfect alongside me, brother.” Loxxi proposed, outstretched his hand to his brother. No matter how many times he was rejected, he would still offer his brother a chance.

“And if it’s not? What will happen to those who fight back?” Thor asked, lowering his weapon but not stepping forward.

“I’ll do away with them. Why spoil the good times for everyone else?” Loxxi asked with an indifferent shrug.

“How many will have to suffer for you to achieve your perfection, to 'save' them?” Thor followed up, looking at his brother with a deep-seated fear for what could come.

“Whoever I’d have to, they would not be enough to matter,” Loxxi answered with a look of contempt. He raised his staff and spun it in the air.

“Good luck, for I have yet to meet a single soul who didn’t matter all on their own. Their choices are their own. They may stumble, but we are here to keep others out of the crossfire. The League are heroes, not tyrants! The day you learn the difference is when I will extend you the same kindness,” Thor answered before launching his hammer into Loxxi.

Loxxi sidestepped the weapon and struck his staff to the floor. A gaggle of Luthorsons then apparated around Thor and began beating him up with little kicks and pokes with their staves. Thor got up and eradicated the copies with his lightning vision until his gaze met the real one. The electricity pulsed through Loxxi’s body before knocking him into the wall.

As Wonder Crystal joined Thunderman in the main lobby, she looked around in horror at the destruction. She had put a lot of work into running the embassy, and seeing it in a ravaged state was disheartening. “You will vacate these sacred halls at once, Luthorson!” She commanded as she summoned her lasso out from Bezarro’s container.

Bezarro screeched as the purifying waters of the lasso left his container. It was like his mind was falling back into the maze his thoughts had been trapped in, “NOOOOooyyYYES!” His synapses began firing negative to positive, his eyes clouded again to their ghoulish glow, and the backwards monster he was born as returned. Bezarro thought to feel some sorrow over losing his rationality again, but in his current state, he felt joyful.

As Diana manifested her lasso, she heard Bezarro’s cries and felt a pang of guilt, but she knew his reversion to his original instincts would have been inevitable. But as she braced herself, she felt a massive, furry bullet crash into her. Her focus broke as her lasso splashed to the ground. As she recovered from the strike, she was pained to see the Silver Cheetah standing before her. Diana looked upon her accursed ex-lover with a flurry of emotions, mainly guilt.

“Ah, the woman who seduced my purity with the errors of the flesh! I’ve waited for this!” Minerva announced with a relishing grin across her face. She popped her claws and rushed in to begin slashing at her.

Wonder Crystal braced herself and activated her crystalline form to protect herself, and began brawling with the Silver Cheetah. “Minerva, please listen to reason. Luthorson is using you.”
“Like how you used me, Princess?” Minerva asked with a growl. “I was never anything but an afterthought to you! Just a weak charity case to distract you from how alone you really are!” The Silver Cheetah berated as she dragged her claws against Diana’s diamond-like skin. It created harsh grinding noises that threw off Thunderman’s super-hearing momentarily, letting Loxxi smack him across the face with his staff, radiating with magic.

Diana dropped her crystal skin so she could then command the puddle on the floor to reform into her lasso. Minerva’s claws dug into her arm and chest, but Diana held strong as she forced her lasso around the cheetah’s body. As the power of the lasso seeped into Minerva’s body, for brief seconds her human form could be seen underneath her furry visage, but after a few seconds, the Silver Cheetah’s form remained.

“What is he promising you, Minerva?” Diana asked as she tightened her grip on her.

“Take a wild guess, Princess,” Minerva growled as her human face briefly faded in and out. The power of the Liquid Lasso of Purity was strong, but the curse of Urzcotatiaga was stronger. “I know he’s using me, but…at least we both know it. We need each other. I like knowing I actually matter to someone.” She looked up at Diana with pain and resentment in her eyes.
Shame drenched Diana like the lasso drenched Minerva, “I deserve that. I was cold and distant when we were together. I should have been there for you when you needed me. I’m sorry I made you so miserable.”

The Silver Cheetah strained as the lasso worked its magic further on her next response, “You truly don’t get it. The time we spent together was some of the happiest times of my life. I loved you with all my heart. The fact you didn’t, the fact you couldn’t, is why I hate you. I hate myself that I ever loved you,” she elaborated through gritted teeth. It pained her to admit it, even more so to admit the next part, “and that I still do.”

Diana was shaken by Minerva’s answer; her hold over the lasso began to loosen. “I’m so sorry, Minerva. For what you’ve become, and that I couldn’t save you from it.”
Minerva remained stone-faced at Diana’s apology, “I appreciate it, but I don’t forgive you,” she answered, not in anger, just neutrality. “It’s not enough, like I wasn’t enough for you.” She then dashed in and kicked Wonder Crystal across the face.

This fully broke Diana’s concentration over the lasso to free herself. Diana would retaliate with a burst of flame from her hand, but Minerva ducked under it to snatch Bezarro’s container off her belt and zip away.

“Give him back, Minerva,” Diana ordered as she reformed her lasso to fling towards Bezarro’s container.

Minerva dodged the lasso with ease and tossed the container to her tail. “As much as I’d love to, Loxxi cares about this guy, so I need to get the job done.” She then zipped backward to stand back to back with Loxxi.

“Do you have my monster?” Loxxi asked with strain as he was blasting his staff hard against a blast of lightning from Thunderman.

“Safe and secure, although a bit fun-sized,” Minerva answered, holding out the capsule.

“Why is he tiny?!” Loxxi yelled exasperatedly.

“Goodbye, Destroyer!” Bezarro called out from inside the capsule, looking up at Loxxi and giving him a little wave.

“He was our ride out of here. I did not plan for him to be tiny,” Loxxi groaned.

“So, how are we getting out of here?” Minerva asked.

Loxxi took a deep breath as he kept firing his staff. He thought of something on the fly. “Figure out how to get that thing open. As for escaping, how about a trick our benefactor just taught me?” Loxxi freed one hand from his staff and flourished it. With two puffs of green smoke, Diana and Loxxi had magically traded places.

Thor’s lightning kept blasting towards Diana, but she was able to turn her crystalline skin on to take the initial brunt, and then divert the rest with her bracelets. But Minerva quickly noticed the switch, and she turned around to slash away at her back and then down at her Achilles tendon. Wonder Crystal wouldn’t be seriously injured by this due to her skin, but the claws were sharp enough to still hurt.

Thor panicked to see his attack turned on his friend and launched his hammer behind Diana and Minerva straight to Loxxi. “Your trickery ends today, Loxxi!”

“I think not, dear brother. But I will…make a change,” Loxxi called out before the hammer phased through him. It was another illusion. Loxxi was now standing behind the front desk of the embassy. He then took a massive wad of cash and threw it into the air. He then took his staff and blasted the money, turning each bill mid-air into a person, staff members of the embassy. They were screaming in terror. “I told you I offered them payment to leave, but they refused. So, I made them the payment.”

Diana and Thor reacted quickly to try and catch each person. Diana summoned a powerful gust of wind to keep all the people suspended in the air while Thor brought them down. But while they were rescuing them, Minerva ran up to Loxxi’s side.

“I think I found the lock on this thing.” The Silver Cheetah said as she dug her index claw into a port on the back of the capsule. She then slashed at the casing. This disrupted the reducing field it produced, and Beta Ray Zero immediately grew back to his natural size. Pinpoint’s capsule was merely a prototype and could not maintain the shrinkage beyond the capsule’s confines.

Bezarro shouted in exertion as he returned to his proper stature. But he then staggered and leaned on Minerva’s shoulder. “Goodbye, Destroyer, goodbye Kitty.”

“You look strong, Monster. Can you fly us close to here and away from home?” Loxxi asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes, I'm powerful here. Me very strong from storms,” Bezarro answered with a groan. The Lasso and the air pressure from the capsule did a number on his body.

“That means he needs the sun to get strong enough to get us out of here, right?” Minerva asked, processing his words fast enough to figure out what he meant.

“Yes, and I can remedy that. Keep them distracted,” Loxxi ordered. He took his staff and began charging something. But Minerva could see that Loxxi was looking worse for wear. The overuse of magic seemed to be literally draining the life out of him.

“You don’t look so good, Loxxi. I don’t think you got this in you,” Minerva commented, looking worried.

“I have the power of the gods in me, Minnie. Just buy me time. Have some more fun with the Princess, you love doing that,” Loxxi responded as the charge in his staff grew larger, but he began looking more gaunt.

Minerva nodded reluctantly, running in to tackle Wonder Crystal away from holding up the remaining civilians, causing the few still in the air to collapse to the ground with a thud. The Silver Cheetah tore into Diana with her claws yet again. She had even drawn blood the second before she activated her crystalline form again.

“Do you know what I despise the most about you? Your stupid fake smile!” Minerva snarled in her face. “You give everyone around you false hope that things are gonna be okay. For someone who cares so much about the truth, you lie to everyone, including yourself!”

Diana managed to gain leverage on Minerva, picking her up and suplexing her onto the ground behind her. “I smile because somebody needs to. They need someone to be strong in the face of people like you. That way, they’ll learn to be strong too.”

Minerva let out a raspy laugh as she got to her feet. “ You can’t just fix everybody with a cheesy grin and a lesson, Diana! You spend so much time trying to be a role model or an idea or whatever, you forget how to be a damn person!”

Thunderman had finished evacuating the building by now, but before he could join the fray, he felt his strength slightly falter. The room got very bright as Loxxi’s new spell had activated. He had created a miniaturized Sun the size of a large car inside the embassy. The air began to dry out, and thus weakening the source of Thor’s powers. But conversely, the sunlight invigorated Bezarro.
Thor got a good look at his brother. Loxxi’s veins were alight with green energy, his fingertips were blackened, and his face worn like it had aged a few decades. Asgardians weren’t supposed to age. “Brother, whatever power you hold now, you can’t sustain it. Worse yet, you’ll burn this place to ashes! Drop thine staff and cease your mission. Anything else will just do more harm than help.”

“How is this for help?!” Bezarro yelled out before flying over to Thor and cracking him across the jaw with his fist.

Diana turned around and sent her Lasso out to ensnare the monster, but Bezarro vomited a streak of lightning, conducting through the water to shock her and send her down. Thor then picked up his hammer and slammed it into Bezarro’s face. For a moment, the beast’s mangled skull almost looked human. He then grabbed Thor by the wrist and flung him against the wall, keeping the hammer in his hand for himself.

Thor groaned in pain as he looked to see Bezarro still wielding Krypton. “Even after all this, Krypton still finds you worthy. Come on, Beta Ray Zero, if you truly wish to help the people of Midgard, Loxxi is not the way. The Lasso showed you what it was like to have a clear mind; we can figure out how to let you keep that. Stay, and you can be the hero you know you’re meant to be!” He said, trying to appeal to the part of himself that resided in Bezarro. He then realized he didn’t say any of that backwards, “Ah, shit.”

Bezarro stared at Thunderman as if he actually did understand what was just told to him, “Me name Bezarro, and me stop Destroyer. Me be Monster by hating him way you never did. That how me destroy world,” he answered with a deep sense of purpose and loyalty in his voice. He then flew in to grab Minerva and Loxxi, holding each one in one of his arms.

“Terrible work, Monster. As for the hammer, take it. I’ll destroy you an old one. Get us as far away from home as possible!” Loxxi commanded with a smile. “Best of luck, Brother, hope you brought sunblock!” Bezarro then flew through the ceiling back to the S.S. Doom, taking Minerva and Loxxi with him.

Diana staggered back to her feet to look up and see the unstable, tiny, magic Sun in the middle of the embassy and was filled with a deep sense of dread. That thing could very well either explode or burn everything down. Thor was down for the count around this thing, so she needed backup.

She grabbed her ID card and called up the Watchtower, “Victor, I have a big explosion about to go off, I need someone to contain it!” Diana spat out quickly.
“You got it, backup incoming!” Victor responded over the communicator.

In seconds, the Emerald Witch would apparate in front of Wonder Crystal. She looked up at the large sun pulsating with energy and groaned in nervousness. “This is not gonna be easy.”
“You can do it, Jessica. Just focus on keeping us alive,” Diana tried to coach Jessica. It didn’t exactly calm the girl’s nerves, but they gave her a fairly good incentive to succeed.

Jessica held out her ring and formed a large bubble construct around the mini-Sun. She strained as she felt the heat of it conduct slightly through her construct. The witch braced for impact, Diana shifting into her crystalline form as well. And with a loud, but muffled boom, the sun exploded in a miniature supernova, the magic shooting out in all directions. The green bubble surrounding the explosion was rippling and cracking at the same time. The Emerald Witch was putting all her willpower into keeping that sun contained. And while it was worn down to nearly bursting, the bubble barely held, and the embassy would stay standing. Its energy would then be absorbed into Jessica’s ring.

Jessica let out a massive sigh of relief as she fell to her knees. “Oh my god, that was so scary! We nearly died!”

“But we didn’t, everything’s okay. Good job, Jess. Good to have you back on active duty,” Diana consoled with a heavy sigh herself as she patted Jessica on the back proudly. This day had so far been pretty bad, but nobody died, and her workplace didn’t burn down, so she was just going to take the win.

Hours later, in Loxxi’s office on the S.S. Doom, Loxxi sat alone, his helmet on his desk as he stared at the wall. In his mind, he was having another conversation with Khlarion. As opposed to previous conversations Loxxi had with “Mister X,” he actually had someone in his mind to look at. Before Loxxi’s perception was a tall, old man, clad all in black with a bald head. He had a very stern expression and spoke in that same rich, silky English accent that, unbeknownst to Loxxi, was a total facade.

“You know, you’re not as smart as you think you are. They would have blown the whole thing wide open if they had gotten more information out of him. You could’ve stopped him at any time,” Khlarion scolded.

On Loxxi’s desk, there was a small remote with Bezarro’s logo on it with a few buttons and a screen. The screen showed the GPS location of where Bezarro was, and he was back on the ship. But one of the buttons had a skull and crossbones on it. The chip inside Beta Ray Zero’s head did other things besides tracking.

“I couldn’t just put him down like a rabid dog! And I trusted him enough to hold out until we came to save him,” Loxxi justified, speaking internally and externally. This caught the ear of Bezarro, and he entered the room unbeknownst to Loxxi, and he just listened to his half of the conversation.

“That thing is expendable, you have fliers, you have muscle. That monster is a liability who can’t follow simple instructions!” Khlarion berated.

“I thought you’d like a little chaos. That’s your whole thing, right?” Loxxi challenged.

“There’s chaos and there’s stupid,” Khlarion began to explain, “Turning a bunch of people into money to scatter and distract them, that’s chaos. Sidebar: that was pretty cool, but I’m still mad at you,” he briefly diverted with a slight smirk before returning to a grim smolder. “But Bezarro’s very existence is so chaotic that it starts hurting us more than them.”
“Well, I’m not abandoning him, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Loxxi stood firmly.

“Remember, Luthorson. I gave you the power that saved your life. Without me, you’d be a heap on the ground with a broken neck. You spent a lot of that power on that little rescue stunt you pulled today. What happens when I’m not there to top you off and keep your pathetic heart beating?” Khlarion asked darkly, as he went to grab Loxxi by the neck and raise him up, much like Ghanoseid did six and a half months ago.

Loxxi clutched at his throat in the real world as he choked in the mindscape. “You…still…need me.” As he struggled through it, he began reaching for his helmet with his other hand.
“For what? You’re running this crossfit only because I say so. Being you would be so easy. You’re expendable, Loxxi, I can get on just fine without you,” Khlarion responded with a dark chuckle as he squeezed harder. This was the psychic equivalent of giving him an aneurysm.

Bezarro, watching his creator suffer, dashed to Loxxi’s desk. He saw him grasp for his helmet and discerned that he needed it on. “Bezarro kill Loxxi!” He shouted before taking the helmet and putting it on Loxxi’s head. The helmet was lined with the same stuff that made the Helm of Iscariot.

Loxxi allowed Khlarion to stay in his mind despite the protection, but he held no power over his mindscape anymore. He felt no pain from his attack. He breathed easier as he smiled, “Third rule of business, always have insurance. I had this one made very shortly after we met. You merely caught me off guard before I could put it on myself. Terrible work, Beta Ray Zero, consider me very disappointed,” he praised his monster.

“I inspire loyalty in people, Mister X. You may try, but no one will ever trust you. Our relationship is purely transactional. You give me my perfect world, and you get yours. You are but the final domino of this grand scheme, it is my job to arrange the menagerie that leads to you. So let me do my damn job how I see fit.,” Loxxi enforced as his mental personification, smacked Mister X across the face. And with that slap, Khlarion’s illusion of himself, made fragile by the helmet dampening his hold over Loxxi, shattered to reveal his true self: the little boy in a wheelchair.

Loxxi looked at the projection and let out an amused chortle, “Oh, so that’s what you really look like. I wasn’t expecting someone so…immature. Although you have been a real brat.”

“I’m older than I look. Does this change anything?” Khlarion asked annoyedly, in his now squeakier tween-age voice.

“No, business is business, even at the kids’ table. Just get the idea of eliminating Beta Ray Zero out of your mind, and out of mine,” Loxxi decreed.

Khlarion cringed as he stared at Loxxi with contempt. “That thing is still a monster. It’s gonna fool everything up in the end, I know it.”

“Even so, he’s my monster. Now get out of my head. We’ll reconvene when you’re done with your temper tantrum.” Loxxi then tapped a button on the center of his helmet to send off a high-frequency sound that briefly disoriented him, but forced Khlarion out of Loxxi’s head.

Loxxi then looked up to Bezarro and smiled widely, “Just an awful performance, my monster. I was hoping that you’d be deaf to my words. You just barely damned me.”

“Magic man wants Bezarro to stay, do he?” Bezarro asked.

“Magic man is very right, my Monster. I’m never going to let you stay…or is it…always let you go. Do you understand?” Loxxi asked, actually a bit unsure.

“No, Bezarro very confused. Bezarro confused by forwards talk after shiny lady put water in Bezarro brain,” Bezarro explained, meaning that some of the Lasso’s waters stayed inside him. So while his mind remained scrambled in the way he talked, he could at least better understand what everyone else was saying if they spoke normally.

“Oh? Is that right?” Loxxi said, now worried. “And, with your mind clearer, will you still stand with me? Or, is the Thor in you making you stray from me just like him?”

“Bezarro leave brother. Loxxi do this so Bezarro can be fake monster. Loxxi let Bezarro destroy world. Me no stay,” Bezarro answered with passion, albeit lacking any eloquence he may have had before.

Well, let me say this, Beta Ray Zero: I will never leave you behind. You are the creation I hold the most pride in. When all is said and done, you are the brother I always needed. I would not be able to change the world without you by my side,” Loxxi professed for his monster, standing up to give Bezarro a pat on the back.

Bezarro, touched by his words, grabbed Loxxi and brought him into a big bear hug, nearly crushing the man, “BEZARRO HATE LOXXI!”

Then, between strangled breaths, Loxxi would say, “Loxxi love Bezarro, too.”

Chapter 35: Second Chances Pt. 1

Back on the Watchtower, Diana sat across from the hologram of Blind Bat at the round table. She’d kept him on call so they could talk. It wasn’t really a matter of privacy, as T’Kurri was silently working at the monitors on the other side of the room, but just something of personal importance. Over the call, the Blind Bat turned the lights on in the Batacombs so she could see him better.
“How can I help you, Diana?” Matt asked as he stared blankly in the general direction of where his ID card was projecting him. Their last interaction still sat in the back of his mind. He regretted turning her advance down, but he regretted a lot of things. There were a lot things wrong with him in his mind, mainly that he didn’t deserve to be happy, not until the mission was done. But all of those thoughts lay invisible behind a hardened expression.
Diana watched his unflinching visage. She felt embarrassed over making that request to him. She was supposed to be a symbol of female empowerment and independence, and while it was a private moment, she tried throwing herself into the arms of a man. But that didn’t matter right now. Right now, she was focused on doing what was best for her Inhuman Amazon sister. “I want to sue SHIELD.”
Matt was taken aback by her statement, “I’m sorry, say that again?”
“I’ve been thinking over the circumstances surrounding Kamala’s imprisonment. She said she never got a trial. She was kept in Belle Raft for months, and no one came to help her, to bring her justice. They just hauled her away and kept her in a tiny box underwater. I’ve been losing sleep at night over that, because how many others have SHIELD been doing this to?” Diana explained impassioned. She’d been working beside SHIELD and the world governments for much of her career, and something like this going under her radar was extremely harrowing.
“Oh, so you want to place them under investigation, hold the higher powers accountable. That’s no small feat, you know that?” Matt asked, gauging how serious she was about this.
“I do, but we’re no small people,” she answered boldly. “I’ve been thinking about what Erik’s other daughter told you. With all our power, we can’t just stand by and let bad things happen. The “Status Quo,” she says, we champion, it’s clearly got problems. And if we truly stand for justice, we can’t stand by and let more people like Kamala Zeul get swept under the rug. I forgot about her, and that is regret to bear, but the system shouldn’t be set up in a way where she needed me to save her from them.”
“I admire your drive for this, but this all seems like an embassy thing, Diana. Why do you want me to help you? I’ve talked to Ms. Keast, and she does a great job with the Themyscratilan extraditions,” Matt questioned as he seemed to be gathering some things around the Batacombs during the call.
“I love my staff, Matt. They’re some of the few people I trust to keep my mission going, but they are just people. They’re overworked as it is. And going up against the monolith that’s Amanda Fury and what she could be doing with my sisters, that’s a risk I can’t put them through. I need a lawyer with me who can defend himself as much as he can defend others.”
Matt returned to the central view of his holographic projection with a series of files in his arms. “Have you talked to Victor about where all the Belle Raft, Iron Vault, and Ryker’s Asylum prisoners have been sent? Maybe he could be helpful in your endeavors.”
“I’ll admit, Victor has been useful in that respect. He’s been monitoring the records for every resident of all the prisons extensively. After Belle Raft, he’s seen the importance of making sure no one gets forgotten,” Diana answered with a tired sigh. “We fight constantly over how to handle reconstruction, but keeping adequate records has been some refreshing common ground.”
“I would hope so after I stopped the two of you from tearing each other apart the first time,” Black Orca chimed in, still working Monitor Duty.
“Any advice on how I should proceed with this, T’Kurri?” Diana asked reverently to her fellow royal.
“Amanda Fury is someone who desires control and order because she considers herself the only one that can be trusted to hold the power she does. She views people only in how they can provide value to her, every conversation with her starts a war she intends into win. If you make it clear your efforts are to assist her, rather than hinder her, she will be more likely to go along,” T’Kurri answered sagely.
Diana groaned in annoyance at T’Kurri’s response, “Ugh, she is impossible. Every government I’ve dealt with, including my own, always has some shadowy figure that’s pulling the strings behind the scenes to turn everything you do to their favor.”
“That’s the nature of power, those who have the most hang back to prevent those beneath them from knowing where to strike. I know that feeling all too well,” Matt added, referring to Bane. “I’ll help you with this Diana, but I’m not optimistic with how this will go. Expect a dead end.”
“I’m just happy that someone’s willing to try. I have to get to work at the Embassy, can we talk about this tonight, maybe over dinner?” Diana asked, a combination of dejected and hopeful, a balanced neutrality on her face.
Matt was thrown off by this, but he trusted that this was something fully professional. “Yes, of course. There’s a Mediterrenean place that I used to order from when preparing for trial, I think you’ll like it. I have a deposition today, too. I should go. See you tonight.” His face remained just as neutral, but the ghosts of a smile seemed to creep on both their faces.
“See you tonight,” Diana farewelled before Matt hung up his card. She then stepped up onto the teleporter. “Can you send me to Gateway, Kurri?”
“Will do, Princess. Best of luck with your conquest, Diana,” T’Kurri answered coyly as he entered the coordinates to teleport her down to Earth.
“My case against SHIELD’s actions isn’t a conquest to be won, but a peace we can resolve. Fury will see the light and we’ll get justice,” Diana retorted.
“That was not the conquest I meant, good luck,” the Black Orca corrected before he beamed the Wonder Crystal to the Embassy so she could begin her day. And as you could see from the previous exploits of the rest of the League, and quite a day it ended up being.

While the members of the League conspired in the Watchtower, the streets of Star Orleans were running rampant with crime. In the days since Belle Raft had fallen apart, violent crime had begun to spike as a few of the escapees managed to swim to shore and wreak havoc on the mainland. Many of these were low level marauders who served as hired muscle for anyone who’d take them in and hide them from the authorities. But their extra power allowed for them to escalate their activities. Power makes a man brave, and a monster reckless. Luckily, someone was there to deal with both.
After her very brief stint with the Blind Bat, Lorna couldn’t take seeing what she saw as an ineffectual supplement to the justice system. Even with everything the Blind Bat did for Goth’s Kitchen, it wasn’t enough, and to her, it did more harm than good. Making half measures in an effort to maintain a sense of order disgusted her. So she fled south to, in her eyes, clean up the League’s mess. Lorna wanted desperately to prove herself right; that to truly help the people, you must make radical change. This change would involve shedding a lot of blood.
It started abruptly and greatly. She slinked around the burroughs adjacent to the city to snuff out gangs. Old warehouses and abandoned buildings that once housed thieves, racketeers and murderers were now littered with twisted rebar and the bodies impaled on top of them. The only ones who survived these attacks were the ones who weren’t there.
But even then, criminals weren’t safe beyond the hideouts either. Dark alleys would leak red with muggers and drug dealers. And it didn’t end at the street criminals either. Even cops rumored for corruption were strangled by rebar. Every kill seemed to make Lorna’s sword grow heavier, but every kill felt wholly justified to her. She was making Star Orleans safer, she was performing needed surgery for the cancer on the streets.
With each slash and pierce of the Polar Blade, the whispers of a demon in a green cloak grew louder. The entire city was terrified of her. In a few weeks, a few hundred men were found dead, alongside a handful of metamutants.
“Peia Sontagg; Flashbang. Dead. Roland Brickwell; Brickbuster. Dead. Telfort Norton; Defector. Dead. She even got the damn teleporter. That is…very unfortunate,” said a woman in an ornate green dress covered in swirls and some kind of cybernetic eyepatch, staring at a corkboard with the photos of her former prisonmates.
This was Countess Vertigo, a woman with the ability to, as the name implied, induce vertigo in people she stared at. Once a noble in the country of Vlakaria, she was exposed for distributing an ingestible form of her vertigo-inducing power as a potent, and very addictive, party drug worldwide.
After spending a few years in Belle Raft, she was happy to continue her old tricks, taking over the drug operations in Star Orleans rather quickly due to her abilities. Her operation now resided in a tacky castle off the edge of the bayou. But given what was happening to the other ex-inmates of Belle Raft, the Countess was beginning to fear her up and coming return to crime was going to meet a swift end.
“Countess, I believe the best course of action is to flee the city, sell the product in another state. Our dealers, guards, and even some of our own customers are winding up chopped to bits. We gotta get outta here,” a lieutenant of Vertigo warned her.
“Perhaps we should, there’s only so much longer we can go before I lose my head,” Vertigo answered as she began throwing together a bag of necessities to skip town and rebuild her operation elsewhere. “I will miss the accommodations, though.”
But as she packed, the hinges were ripped off the front door as the slab of wood flopped on the ground. A cloaked silhouette stood in the entryway with her sword drawn, her white mask being the only visible feature amongst the darkness.
“Lady. Gentlemen. You have eaten well. You've tainted Star Orlean's health. Its spirit. A once lively and beautiful city has been rendered a cesspool of junkies longing for your distorted fantasy. But your feast is nearly over. From this moment on... none of you are safe,” the Polar Blade muttered in a cold, ruthless rasp.
There weren’t a lot of men left working for Countess Vertigo. It took a while for Lorna to find where she was hiding. Not checking the one castle in the city first was admittedly a blunder on her part. So she ended up going through a lot of lower level thugs and dealers to find them. Those who remained raised their guns, ready to defend their base.
“I’ve dreaded this day, so I’m not going to bother monologuing, PUT HER DOWN!” Countess Vertigo screeched out as the battalion of goons opened fire on Lorna.
Lorna was ready; she immediately outstretched her hand to control the bullets, but to her surprise, she felt nothing that she could magnetically control. They were using rubber bullets, the guns were made of mostly plastic, and the entire place was made of stone and wood, with all the pipes and electrical work buried inside it. The goons unleashed rubbery hell, and while the shots weren’t lethal, dozens of rounds all pelting her at once hurt like hell. She was battered like an arctic hare in a hailstorm. But eventually, they had to reload.
Once they ceased fire, Lorna was battered and bruised, but full of righteous fury. That’s all she was at this point. She avenged her mother, rejected her father’s legacy, and was now content to just use her powers to rip and tear through every gangster she could find so that no child would have to come home to see their family murdered by one of them.
She cut through each gunman like she was mowing the lawn. Every time her blade pierced another body, she felt even more alive, but in that vigor, she still felt her sword get heavier. As her weapon acted as if it dragged her down, she was less nimble. She could compensate for the weight by using her powers on it, but it diverted her concentration, which was vital in split-second decisions.
As the last one of her henchmen’s bodies slipped off the Polar Blade, Countess Vertigo was terrified. She looked around and saw her employees. It had looked like a butcher’s shop, but the intact corpses were the scarier sights. They looked like they had the life literally drained out of them. She had collected as much of her money and wares as she could before making a break for a back exit. But there Lorna was, staring at her like the reaper.
“Countess Vertigo, you have failed this city,” she said grimly as she raised her sword.
“I will not let one woman destroy everything I have worked for without a fight! If I am to fall to you, I will go down as a woman of esteem!” Countess Vertigo proclaimed as she pressed two fingers to her temple and sent an ethereal wave of energy from her eyepatch, sending Lorna back, spinning mid-air.
The Polar Blade was knocked into a pile of crates. She arose, her head spinning. Lorna raised her sword again and used her magnesis to throw it at Vertigo, preparing to impale her the same way she did the Purple Joker. But in her daze, the vertigo made her miss her target entirely; the flying sword made a corkscrew motion through the air before lodging itself in the stone wall.
The Countess laughed as she revealed a sword of her own, a jade saber to be specific, from her dress. “This sword may be more for show, but I was trained to defend myself beyond my mutations. I promise…I won’t make this quick.”
Lorna staggered to her feet and reached out her hand to bring her sword back to her hand. “I won’t either.” She was able to dislodge it from the wall, but she missed her own hand, and the sword clattered at her feet. She picked it up, but her vision was still heavily distorted.
“How do you expect to survive in a fight against me if you can’t even see?” Vertigo asked cockily as she charged in with her saber to stab at the Polar Blade.
The Polar Blade then rose up to parry Vertigo’s strike. “Simple, I’ll fight with my eyes closed.” She was injured, disoriented, and exhausted. But she persevered through on pure spite.
The two women then began slashing and thrusting at each other. Lorna was weak, but pushing through on adrenaline and letting her skill do the rest. She listened intently for where each strike was going, and reacted accordingly. The crystal material of the sword made a distinct sound as it cut through the air, and with enough focus, she managed to track it.
Meanwhile, Lorna’s offense left to be desired. She lacked enough leverage to push through Vertigo’s strikes, and was by default always off balance. She had to stay in one spot and hold defensively until she could gather her bearings.
Vertigo let out another wicked cackle as she kept slashing, “To thing, all I had to do to stop you in your tracks was give you a taste of my own medicine. The first one is free by the way, I’m sure you’ll be getting some more though,” she mocked before taking one hand off the sword to trigger her eyepatch again.
Lorna could feel the change in force holding the sword, and right before Vertigo could hit her with another place, she threw most of her strength into one massive swing to shatter her saber. This was enough to send the Countess flat on her ass. “Word to the wise, crystals make for poor material for weapons.” Lorna would also be able to focus enough to sense the circuitry inside Vertigo’s eyepatch, and with a flick of her wrist, she used her magnesis to disable it. “But, I reckon you won’t be needing any wisdom where you’re going.”
This sent Countess Vertigo through mortal terror. She had no more backup plans, no help, no weapons, just the perceived inevitability of the end. “Please don’t kill me! I can give you so much! You can be rich beyond your wildest dreams! I can make you my right hand, we can rule the Criminal Underworld together!” She ineffectually pleaded.
“I need for nothing, just a safer world without you in it,” Lorna answered flatly before opening her eyes and raising her sword to strike Countess Vertigo down.
But before Lorna could finish the job, she was punched in the face…from afar? The Polar Blade was struck by an arrow with a boxing glove on it. This threw her for a loop as she turned around to the broken door to see a new silhouette.
Before the Polar Blade and Countess Vertigo stood a man with a green compound bow in a long, flowing, green trenchcoat. Beneath that were a pair of armored boots and a fuchsia chestplate. The man wore a green balaclava with a goofy blonde mustache and goatee sticking out of it, with fuchsia eyes with black sclera poking through the mask. Topping it all off was a green hat, reminiscent of Robin Hood. This was Ollie LeBeau, Le Diablo Verde, but Star Orleans called him the Green Gambit.
“You know ‘ow long I been lookin’ foh you, Cher?” The Green Gambit asked, “Oooh, you been making a name for yo’self out ‘ere!”

That night, Diana Amaquelin appeared before a Clinton Church in Goth's Kitchen. She was clad in a shapely, golden yellow, evening dress and red heels. Her tiara was gone, but her bracelets remained. She seemed to radiate with a golden light as she knocked on the doors of the church.
Opening the doors was an old man with a thin mustache in a priest's garb. This was Father Alfred Lantom, caretaker of the church, and those who inhabit it. He greeted the alluring Inhuman Amazon with a warm smile. “Good evening, Miss Amaquelin. It's an absolute blessing to have you here tonight,” He greeted with a smile as he led her inside the church.
Diana returned his warmth, “Likewise, Alfred. I love what you've done with the place, very tasteful. Is Matt ready?” She looked around the place with admiration. If she ever cared about being worshipped like the rest of her family, she wouldn’t mind it being in the tranquil environment Father Lantom created.
“Matty's still got his hands full over another case. I can give you the parish crowbar if you need to pry him off it,” Alfred suggested with a chortle. “I can make tea while you wait.”
“I'm sure I'll be enough to draw his attention,” Diana replied with a smile.
“One would have to be blind to be able to, Miss Amaquelin. Unfortunately for you…” Alfred joked as he walked over to the large cross behind the altar and gave it exactly sixteen knocks in rapid succession, before the cross clicked and slid back with a prolonged squeak. This revealed an opening in the floor, a staircase leading down to the Batacombs.
“Thank you, Alfred. I’ll make sure to get him home at a reasonable hour,” Diana said with a smile before going down the stairs.
“If I ever cared about that, he’d be up on that cross,” Alfred gave one more remark before Diana disappeared into the darkness.
As one would expect, the Batacombs were pitch dark. Matt didn’t have much need for lights. Diana flourished her hand and summoned a small plume of flame in it, lighting her way through. Beneath the church were a series of tunnels, holding a large amount of buried bodies within them. Diana passed them by with reverence, but unease. Despite seeing her fair share of death, she was never comfortable seeing it. Seeing the body without the spark of life felt uncanny to her. Eventually, she navigated her way through the tunnels until she found the main vault in which the Blind Bat operated.
The Batacombs were littered with equipment and alcoves for outfits. There were computers, too, but those were reserved for when Sybil was operating here. Obviously, Matt didn’t gain much from computer screens. When she arrived, Matt was still working away at a series of case files, running his hands over a library of books and documents in Braille. Thankfully, he wasn’t in his Batsuit, just a grey suit with a red tie, and a pair of round red-tinted shades on his desk.
“You know, I always pictured you working with a little lamp on your desk. Not sure why, but every desk needs a lamp,” Diana commented as she approached Matt’s workspace, her hand still aglow.
“Sorry, I couldn’t greet you at the door. I’ve been dealing with the Ryker’s reconstruction, and zoning laws and various statutes have been a pain to navigate,” Matt explained before he finally stopped running his hands all over everything. He then turned his ear towards Diana. His radar sense gives him an outline of her appearance. Given the ambience of the Batacombs and the crackling of the fire in her hand, he was able to get a detailed picture of what she looked like.
“It’s fine, it’s been a while since I was down here. It was good to see Alfred again. Had I known you’d be longer, I would have taken up on his offer for tea,” Diana answered as she leaned on the edge of his desk.
“Your dress, it…accentuates your figure. It’s a good cut,” Matt commented as he gathered a few specific files, put on his shades, and grabbed his cane. “We can go now.”
“Are there any specific tunnels that don’t have as many crypts on the way? I’d rather not pass by any more buried bodies than I need to,” Diana requested as she looked to the several tunnel exits that led into the main vault of the Batacombs.
“Of course. Only one of the tunnels had the crypts in direct view. I seldom go down that one myself,” Matt answered as Diana gained a somewhat annoyed look.
The two would exit the Batacombs, and eventually the church. Alfred would wave them off with a sassy “God be with ye,” as he chuckled to himself. While being a Catholic in thee presence of several gods always threw Matt for a loop, Alfred always took it in stride and had a laugh about it. His justification was that while people like Diana, Thor, and SHAHULK were something of the divine, the true God would never need to waste his time revealing himself to the world to get the job done.
Matt would take Diana a few blocks down from the church. Though to keep up appearances, Diana made it look like she was guiding him as he flicked his cane back and forth. The blind man would briefly drop the charade, though, to throw his cane out in front of some distracted teenager on his phone who was about to wander into traffic. But eventually, they’d arrive at a place called the Shwarma Palace.
“I actually remember this place,” Diana pointed out. “After Vic first joined the team and we took down that enormous robotic chimpanzee, we came here to celebrate.”
“Titanus Ultimus, I remember. I don’t think I went with you all, though. I was…busy,” Matt replied, sounding a little embarrassed. That was around the time he was even more emotionally closed off from the rest of the team. And he just avoided doing anything social with them for at least a few months after the League of Marvelous Individuals formed.
“Yet you come here all the time on your own, a little ironic if you ask me,” Diana proposed as they went inside. It wasn’t particularly an upscale place, so Diana’s sparkly dress stuck out. But she didn’t really seem to care. She wore the outfits she did not for the approval of others, but because it made herself feel pretty. Diana grabbed them a booth by the window and sat down across from Matt.
When he sat down, Matt set out all his documents he had under his arm. They were everything he had been preparing for their case against S.H.I.E.L.D. Diana marveled at what he had already put together today, but the files were really half the amount of content they presented, as half of the papers were the same information, just in Braille for Matt’s use.
“Sorry my attention’s been a little diverted. I’ve just been very busy, today,” Matt apologized, despite the fact the work he had put in at this point was respectable.
“Trust me, I get it. You wouldn’t imagine the day I’ve had,” Diana replied understandingly as she let out a heavy sigh. “You know the embassy almost blew up today?”
“Oh my, is everyone okay?” Matt asked, concerned.
“Thor got beat up pretty bad, but he’ll live. Loxxi turned my staff into money for a little bit. So, a lot of them are dealing with the psychological effects of that. That hasn’t been great to deal with. But we got some info about what the Legion is planning from Beta Ray Zero, so it was a net positive, I guess,” Diana explained with a shrug. “Jessica stopped the explosion, by the way. She did good, you were right to have faith in her.”
“A little trust goes a long way. Sometimes all you need to succeed is to be surrounded by those who think you can,” Matt suggested before a waitress came by to take their order. The waitress eyed Diana’s outfit and was charmed. Diana returned one of her trademark diamond smiles for kindness’ sake. Matt then ordered some lamb shawarma while Diana got vegetarian. And the waitress left as soon as she came.
“So, onto business, Matt. What can we do for Kamala?” Diana cut to the chase.
“Honestly, I can’t say it looks good. Had we known about her earlier, we could’ve simply extradited her to Themyscratilan and let your family handle rehabilitation,” Matt explained as he examined the case file of Ms. Gigantic with his hands.
“She never got a trial, Matt. She didn’t get proper due process for what happened. Surely, that has to mean something to help her out!” Diana insisted.
“What happened was shady as hell, but Kamala Zeul was designated a risk to national security and a potential terrorist. That kind of wording is how certain people are denied the proper justice.” Matt answered with a growl. “It boils my blood more than anything, but it was legal.” He was twiddling a fork in his hand as he spoke, but it slowly bent under the weight of his thumb, and his rage.
“It’s always the ones that look like her. What if we get her a proper trial?” Diana asked hopefully.
“Even if we could exonerate her of the charges she faced under Mr. Psycho’s control, her escape and destruction of Belle Raft would just throw her somewhere else, probably worse now she’s considered even more of a threat.”
Diana let out a heavy sigh, knowing he was right, “It’s not right. She was a brilliant, young woman who had her whole life ahead of her. Even when she first got powers, found her roots, she wanted to use them to help people. We actually inspired someone to be good, and she got corrupted by that homonculus in a cheap suit.”
Matt kept scanning his documents to find a solution, “We can argue time served for her breach. But the resulting destruction, hundreds of millions of dollars of property damage were caused by her rampage. SHIELD has been put into Crisis-Mode with how much they’re doing just to deal with the fallout. We have a lot of superpowered criminals back on the streets because there’s nowhere to put them. Fury’s gonna want her pound of flesh, and Kamala’s got a lot of pounds to spare.”
“I can’t imagine what being locked up in there would’ve been like for the poor girl. The system we uphold destroyed her life, and we can’t get her justice. And with no other options, she’s forced to work with the enemy. She has to be so scared right now,” Diana worried as she pondered whatever could be happening to Kamala right now, as she was in league with the Legion. In reality, Kamala was enjoying a nice celebration frittata with Minerva and Yon after her first successful mission.
“We’ll figure something out, Diana. We’re both in unique positions where even if we can’t punch away the forces looming over the people, we can use our other gifts to fight injustice at its roots. Even if it seems hopeless, we owe it to them to try,” Matt assured her as she rested his hand on hers.
Diana was filled with a flurry of mixed emotions. While she appreciated his comfort, she was wholly unaware of how to process its connotations. She wanted him initially as an escape from the seemingly insurmountable pressures of their jobs, a validation that her efforts were not futile, and simply a chance to feel not like a superhero, but a woman.
But this was also the man who saw the vulnerability she presented, and he turned it down because of “timing.” Whether he intended it or not, she was hurt by it. The ordeal made her feel childish. But then again, what if he was just doing this because he valued their friendship? All the thoughts racing through her head made it spin, and all she could manage to do in response to his grasp was put on her stiff, unyielding smile.

The Green Gambit had swooped into the action and took charge of the bust. He’d used an arrow full of tranquilizing gas to knock both of the women out. And while Countess Vertigo would be tied up, taken to the police with her eyepatch removed, and her face then covered in a thick blindfold to be safe. Meanwhile, Lorna was taken out to the top of a tall building, chained to a pillar.
Lorna eventually awoke, dazed from the gas. She gained her bearings and realized she felt metal around her. Then she found herself tied to a pillar. “What the hell?! Where am I?!” She shouted as she flicked her wrists and uncoiled the chains around her, leaving them floating like Saturn’s rings.
“Calm yourself for a spell there, cher. ‘Sall okay,” the Green Gambit coaxed as he revealed Lorna’s sword wrapped in a rubber mat. “T’was just a precaution so ya wouldn’t start slashing me ta bits and takin’ mah soul.”
“Who the hell do you think you are that you can just knock me out, steal my kill, and kidnap me?!” Lorna shouted, enraged as she hurled the chains at him.
The Green Gambit sidestepped the attack and grabbed the chain. It then glowed with a fuchsia energy before each link burst and exploded like a tiny firework, one by one, in succession down the chain. “Well fo’ one, I can do t’at. Two, I can do it again,” he answered as he still clutched her sword in his hand, starting to charge it with kinetic energy to detonate it.
“Wait, don’t! Please! It’s…my mother’s,” Lorna pleaded as she put her hands in the air.
“I know t’at, Cher. T’a’s why I ain’t gonna make it go boom. I just here ta talk, al’ight?” Green Gambit assured as he took a step towards Lorna.
Lorna was visibly shaken by the strange man in green’s behavior, and also a little scared to fight him. “Okay, who are you?”
“T’ey call me t’e Green Gambit. You can call me G.G. You can call me Ollie. You can even call me Green. Just don’t call me Mr. Gambit,” Ollie answered casually with a dashing grin.
“Okay…Ollie. Why did you do all this?” Lorna asked, still very tense.
“Countess Vertigo was one of my rogues. T’e city been full of baddies since Belle Raft sank. While I appreciate the assist, I don’ need t’e extra manpower. Got me a Pretty Bird and a little Angel on mah shoulders already,” Green Gambit explained. He was the primary hero of Star Orleans, dealing with street crime there for around six years now. “We got a way t’ings work ‘round t’ese parts, and ya been spittin’ in my face since ya got ‘ere.”
“If you’ve been the one dealing with crime in this city, you’ve been doing a terrible job,” Lorna replied, standoffish. “You fight the bad guys, leave’em alive, then let the system throw them back.”
“Look ‘ere, cher. I ain’t like mah buddy, Bats. I’ve put a few six-feet-under in my day, but only t’e worse of the worse. Not t’at I’m proud of it, but sometimes ya gotta do whatcha gotta do to keep t’e little guy safe. We lotta ‘like t’at way.” Ollie responded as he leaned up against one of the pillars, fiddling with a playing card he plucked from his jacket.
“You’re the Blind Bat’s friend?” Lorna asked apprehensively.
“Mais cher, he told me to keep an eye out for ya. Batsy got friends in low places, and I’m low o’ t’e low. But unlike his city boy friends, I t’ink I getcha a hair bettah,” Ollie answered as he gave Lorna a knowing glance.
“What do you think you know? I do this because innocent people are suffering, and I won’t stand by, with my power, to let that happen,” Lorna shot back defensively as she tried to call her sword back to her. But before it left, the Green Gambit’s hands sizzled with energy.
“Tut tut tut, kiddo. Patience. I ain’t done talkin’ yet,” Ollie asserted as he twirled the sword around in his hand. “As I been saying, I getchu. You think I don’t spend every night out ‘ere fighting to make t’e lives of t’e people of this fine, beautiful, ginormous city bettah? Course I am! But you can’t just be a ‘ero by stabbing, crushing, and strangling people! If t’at were t’e case, Detroit would be Neo-Metropolis!” He explained with a hearty laugh.
“What’s the alternative? Playing into the government's hands and be an imperialist weapon?” Lorna asked with conviction. “At least how I do it, I’m only hurting the people who deserve it.”
“T’at’s what they all say, cher. But even killin’ a bad guy hurts people. When Fatal Compass kicked the bucket, you were sad, right?” Ollie asked with raised eyebrows.
“How did you- right, the Bat. Yeah, that was devastating. I didn’t have the time I wanted because of his job. It took him from me before he even died,” Lorna answered like she’d said it so many times to herself already.
“So think ‘bout all t’ose goons you cut up. T’ey may been pushing t’e spins on people, and tha’s real bad. But killin’ one o’ t’em means some little girl like you gonna be saying the same things. At least yo’ daddy died noble. Their daddy died a crook. Now you tryna be noble to be like Fate. What’s t’at little girl gonna do to be like daddy?” the Green Gambit asked rhetorically as his expression darkened.
The Gambit’s response gave Lorna a lot to think about, and as she thought about it, she realized that what she’d been doing was very likely hurting a lot of people she didn’t intend to. Almost all of her self-righteousness and fury turned to guilt and quiet contemplation.
“And in my experience, the supervillains got people who love’em too. T’ey always got some kinda secret kid, or twin brother, or deeply devout henchmen or something to carry on t’ey legacy. Violence always begets violence. I saved you from dealin’ with like a Vertigo Jr. or something. Ya welcome.” Ollie finished before tossing the sword back to Lorna. He knew that after dropping that, she wouldn’t be in a rush to leave.
Lorna looked down at the sword in her hands. It was almost as if she could see the souls of her victims swirling around in the flat of the blade. “Oh god, what have I done?”
“You did what you t’ought was right. You were wrong, but who hasn’t strayed the straight an’ narrow on a grief-fueled crusade of vengeance?” Ollie answered with a chuckle. “What matters is what you do goin’ fo’ard. You still wanna help people, don’tcha?”
“I guess so…” Lorna said still staring down at her blade. “Part of me only did it because after I avenged my mother, I didn’t know what else to do. This just felt…right. What else can I do?”
“Well, the League gots their own way of doing t’ings. They work up top, dealing with t’e big picture stuff. Not my style, but I respect it. I keep to t’is city, and when I’m not shootin’ people wit’ my boom-booms, I do a lot of charity work, I support the programs t’at can do a lot more t’an one man can.”
The Green Gambit answered with sincerity, but he wasn’t being wholly truthful. Behind the mask, Oliver LeBeau was a billionaire tech mogul, LeBeau Industries developing personal electronics, playing cards, and, under the table, his specialized arrows. Ollie then used the money brought in from the industries to then fund much of the local relief and philanthropic organizations. Of course, despite his resources, his sentiments were nonetheless valid.
Lorna gave the secret billionaire’s words some thought, “I suppose I could use my powers to help with the construction of shelters,” she thought out loud as her mind still raced from rethinking every decision she’d ever made since taking up the sword.
“I think that’s a good first step. And I ain’t saying you stop vigilanting, just, do it for the right reasons. Not so bad guys go down, but so good guys stay up,” the Green Gambit spouted one more nugget of wisdom before firing an arrow off into the distance attached to a rope. He was preparing to zipline down it, away from her. “Good luck, now.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gambit,” Lorna said with a slight smile.
“Mais,” Gambit grumbled as she used the one name he told her not to use. “Be careful out t’ere,” he called out as he ziplined away and into the bowels of the city.
Lorna sheathed her sword and took a look out a window to take in the sights and sounds of the city. She felt a lot of shame for letting herself be so blind to the consequences of what she did. While not as extreme as Mr. Scary’s fear toxin made it seem, she did lose sight of what being a superhero meant. But she was going to be different. She was going to be better.
That was, at least, until a spotlight flashed in her face. The building was surrounded by black vans and swarms of soldiers, SHIELD soldiers. Out of one of the vans emerged Amanda Fury. She stared up at the window Lorna was in and smiled. “Gotcha.”
“Polar Blade! We have you surrounded! You are under arrest for murder, a lot of murder! Do not resist, lest you commit more murders!” Phil Faraday called out with a megaphone. Lorna’s actions had caught up to her, and she was now in very hot water.