PART THE SECOND
"Everything New is Old Again"

What has gone before: After bidding farewell to their departing teammates from New Genesis, the Justice League responded to a freak earthquake in Gotham City which had loosed the population of Arkham Asylum.  The inmates were recaptured with the notable exception of the Psycho Pirate, who found himself atop the Sphinx in Egypt, armed with a glowing spear and accompanied by a diminutive mischief-maker who promised him great power to accomplish anything he desires.  The Justice League then learned of the appearance of multiple supervillain threats around the globe, none recognizable, and set off to defend various locations from these menaces …

THE DAILY PLANET BUILDING, METROPOLIS

 

The weather in Metropolis could vary from day to day as much as in any other East Coast city, which made the red and blue streak of the Man of Steel flying overhead a more common sight in the sky than the sun itself.  By far the more unusual sight above the city streets was the being toward which the red and blue streak was aimed: a green-skinned man clothed in garb combining the right side of Superman’s costume and the left side of Batman’s, standing on the roof of the Daily Planet building.  The strange being’s appearance was unusual, but the activity he was engaged in at the moment – dining on the giant steel “A” from the word “Daily” which orbited the golden orb atop the building – pushed his appearance from strange to surreal.

Superman arrived within arm’s reach of the strange being just as its green lips reached the crossbar of the metal “A.”  Folding his arms across his powerful chest as he floated above the surface of the roof, Superman said, “There are better ways to get my attention than destruction of property, friend.  I think you had best come with me now.”

The strange being’s attention snapped to the Last Son of Krypton as he gave the warning, and instantly it tossed the half-eaten steel letter aside and floated above the roof as well.  It seemed to be studying Superman intently, and he in turn studied it.  The power of flight the creature possessed seemed innate to it, as Superman’s super senses were unable to detect any sign of mechanical assistance.  The costume nagged at something in the back of Superman’s mind, almost as if he had seen it before.  Consciously Superman knew he never had, and there were elements of it which were oddly discordant; the Batman-half seemed too bright, the correct design for the Dark Knight but in inappropriately vibrant colors.  Superman dismissed the feeling of déjà vu and prepared to take hold of the strange being when it surprised him by speaking in clear English.

“This time … this time, Superman!” it gloated loudly.  “This is the time when I will prove once and for all that no single Superman is a match for … the Composite Superman!”  With that the creature raised its arms over its head and suddenly two identical copies of it emerged from the original, one to the right, the other to the left.  The Composite Superman standing in the middle then increased in size until it towered forty feet tall atop the Daily Planet’s roof.  Superman began to fly upwards toward the now-colossal being’s head, but was met mid-flight by its truck-sized fist and sent hurtling back down to the roof.  As Superman struck the top of the building, he was blasted on either side by the two duplicate Composites.  One bombarded him with powerful arcs of lightning that flew from its fingertips; the other let fly a torrent of intensely hot flames from its hands.

Superman rose to his feet and in the same motion was airborne, flying backwards slightly to place himself out of reach of the giant Composite.  An identical smile of twisted satisfaction split the lime-hued face of each of the three Composites, as they waited patiently for Superman to re-enter the fight.  Superman weighed his options momentarily, then heard the motorized whine of small, high-powered jets approaching.  Superman looked down and recognized a figure he had not seen in years as a LexCorp prototype suit of power-armor flew up toward him.  The gleaming chartreuse and magenta unit pulled even with the Man of Steel and its occupant said, “Perhaps I can be of assistance.”  Superman realized with shock that the man inside the armor was Lex Luthor himself.

Several confusing thoughts raced through Superman’s mind: Luthor’s well-known aversion for physical involvement in conflicts; the side-effects of use of the prototype armor which included permanent brain-damage; Luthor’s hatred of Superman himself.  Finally Superman managed to speak, “Ordinarily I wouldn’t want your help, Luthor, but under the circumstances …”

Superman was cut short by a haymaker thrown by the armored Luthor, which caught him square across the cheek.  The force sent Superman hurtling back toward the Composites.  “I wasn’t speaking to you, imbecile,” Luthor said disdainfully, “I was speaking about you.”

BENEATH WAYNE MANOR, GOTHAM CITY

 

The Batmobile roared into the Batcave and came to a stop on its platform.  The bulletproof canopy slid forward along the top of the black chassis and Batman emerged from the vehicle.  He had called Dick Grayson while en route, and expected his former partner to join him momentarily, yet saw no reason not to start analyzing data as soon as possible.  He sat down facing the cave’s impressive main computer console, and his fingers began to work back and forth across the keyboard.  He was pleased but unsurprised to see that Oracle had already downloaded to him the available information on the worldwide attacks.  He began aligning the data in an evaluation matrix.

Typing with one hand, Bruce Wayne used the other to pull back his Batman cowl and let it hang loosely against his cape.  Then he pressed a button that activated an intercom circuit in the mansion above.  “Alfred,” he said, “I’ll need your assistance down here.  Dick will be arriving shortly as well; you might want to head him off with a distraction meal if there’s anything in the fridge you’re not inclined to see destroyed.”

“I am pleased to hear that Robin will be here soon, but the only destruction which interests me,” a throaty, perverse imitation of Alfred Pennyworth’s voice boomed from the shadows behind Batman, “is your own, Batman!  And it will be all too soon at my hands; by the time your little sidekick arrives you will be dead and I will be ready to snuff him out as well!”

Batman was up and out of his seat to turn towards the intruder instantly.  What he saw was a man who looked much like the Wayne family’s trusted servant.  His skin, however, was as white as chalk, covered with small pebble-sized circles, and his eyes were jet black.  “Who are you?” Batman asked, while stealthily reaching for a Batarang clipped to his utility belt.

“You must remember me, Batman!  Even you cannot have met anyone else as far outside the human race as myself … anyone who could make you forget the Outsider!” the twisted version of his butler answered.

“I can’t forget what I’ve never known,” Batman informed the Outsider, bringing his arm around with tremendous force and unleashing the Batarang.  The Outsider laughed viciously, and in a blink, disappeared.  As the Batarang whizzed through the air where the Outsider had been, the chalk-skinned man reappeared directly in front of Batman and let fly a devastating uppercut.  The superhuman force behind the blow lifted Batman off the ground as the Outsider’s fist connected with his chin, and sent the Dark Knight flying into the display monitors of the computer.

“Perhaps that jogged your memory,” the Outsider chuckled coldly.  “Or perhaps you’ll remember just as your life passes before your eyes.”  The Outsider grabbed Batman and threw him to the ground, lying on his face.  Grabbing a fistful of Batman’s cape, the Outsider planted one foot firmly in his adversary’s back, then pulled back hard on the cape.  The top of the cape, which lay across the front of Batman’s chest, dug into his windpipe, and Batman began struggling for air as the Outsider slowly strangled him.

 

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THE SPHINX, EGYPT

 

A dozen milky-white spheres, each eight feet in diameter, floated placidly in the air before the carved stone head of the ancient Egyptian wonder.  Every sphere showed a different scene upon its rounded surface.  Atop the weathered brow of the Sphinx stood the Psycho Pirate, watching the spheres, and beside him his impish companion turned cartwheels and giggled with malicious delight.

“Now THAT is some whiz-bang entertainment!” the midget mischief-maker squealed joyfully.  “The look on Superman’s face alone was worth the trouble of finding that oversized poker and putting it in your hands, my dear Hayden!”

“Now they HAVE to believe me,” the Psycho Pirate replied, more to himself than to his diminutive benefactor.  “So many times … so many times I tried to tell them about the things that no one else could remember … and all they ever did was laugh at me!” Hayden’s voice cracked with a seething mixture of shame and rage at the memory.  His knuckles whitened as he clenched his golden spear tightly.  “But they won’t laugh now!  Not when I’m rubbing their faces in the things they thought I was crazy for remembering!  No one will laugh now!”

The cavorting midget stopped short as Hayden’s threat echoed across the Saharan sands, his mouth slamming shut and cheeks puffing out with the pressure of one final laugh restrained.  His face turned bright red; he tugged down hard on both long tufts of wild white hair that poked out from under his purple bowler; his face exchanged its red shade for a deep blue; and finally he exhaled with a loud noise which, at the very least, was not laughter.  Then he said, “Ahem.  You tell ‘em, Hayden.  You show ‘em who’s boss.  It’s you!  Boss of the WORLD!”

“It’s not my world,” the Psycho Pirate shook his head, profound sadness replacing the rage of a moment before.  “It hasn’t been my world in a long time.  Not the world I remember.  Not the way I remember it.”

“But it can be, Haydee-baby!  It can be EVERYTHING you remember!  You’re not just King of the Mountain while you’re holding that spear,” the tiny troublemaker exhorted the Psycho Pirate, “you get to say what the Mountain looks like, feels like – what it is!  SO what are you waiting for?”

Hayden brightened slightly as his companion’s words sank in.  “My world?  My wonderful, long lost world?”  The Psycho Pirate’s thick metal eyepatch began emoting hideously, as he pointed the spear at a floating globe which showed Green Lantern, Flash and Huntress racing into Central City.  “Yes … yes … just a few fixes to be made, here and there …”

 

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OUTSIDE CENTRAL CITY

 

Green Lantern, the Flash and the Huntress approached the outer limits of Central City.  Green Lantern flew encased in a field of emerald energy, the Huntress rode on a highly customized motorcycle, and the Fastest Man Alive ran at an extremely restrained speed which allowed the other two to keep up.  The threesome raced toward the city, scanning for signs of their quarry.  As his eyes swept the surroundings, Green Lantern suddenly noticed the attire of his female companion.

“Hey, Huntress,” Green Lantern quipped appreciatively, “nice gams.”

“What are you talk –”  The Huntress looked down at her legs reflexively as her fellow Justice Leaguer made the comment.  She stopped mid-sentence as she saw that her legs, usually covered in indigo and violet kevlar-lined tights, were bare from hip to knee.  Huntress hit the brakes and brought her motorcycle to a stop in the middle of the highway.  Her entire costume had changed, becoming more flimsy and, especially in the case of her legs, more revealing.  Her mask had changed as well, with peaks over the eyeholes rising high off her head.

“You … weren’t wearing that when we left the Watchtower, were you, Huntress?” the Flash asked.

“No … no more than you were sporting that look, Flash.” Huntress answered.

“Huh?”  Wally West looked down and saw that his costume had shifted as well, with its torso changing to a yellow field cut by a red lightning bolt.  He ran a hand over the top of his head and could feel his auburn hair was now uncovered, the mask only reaching his forehead. 

“I didn’t think the Teenie Bopper costume still fit you, ‘Kid Flash’,” Green Lantern said.

“Watch it, Kyle.  Hey, how come your costume still looks the same?” Flash responded.

“Beats me.  Some mornings I still wake up and wonder how I wound up with the surviving piece of jewelry from a three-billion years old legacy of intergalactic agents of order.  I try not to sweat the small stuff.”

“Nice philosophy.  Unfortunately we’ve got one big thing to sweat right now, so …”  The Flash drew on his control of the Speed Force, of which his costume was a tangible manifestation, and the colors reverted to their proper red with gold trim.  “Huntress, you’ll have to make do as best you can with your … apparel challenges.  That giant monster Oracle sent us looking for is dead ahead.”

Green Lantern and Huntress looked and saw the figure striding into Central City.  It was humanoid, approximately nine feet tall, and its skin was a deep and angry violet, with pinpoints of light deeply embedded like stars in the night sky.

“Well, he’s big, but not that big,” the Huntress opined, recalling Oracle’s early report on the subject.

The dark creature reached one of the large buildings on the outskirts of the City, reaching out and swatting almost casually at it.  The side of the building exploded as if hit by a megaton of force, and the remainder of the structure buckled and then collapsed.  The creature continued on its way into the heart of Central City.

Huntress gasped and Green Lantern and Flash traded expletives in reaction to the display of power.  Flash recovered from the shock first and began to give orders.  “All right, Huntress, no offense but this is kind of out of your league.  Why don’t you get over to that building and see if you can help anyone who might have been trapped inside.  Kyle and I will deal with the walking demolition team.”

“Of course I’m not offended, Flash,” Huntress said sweetly.  For the first time since her costume had morphed, she seemed to relax and become comfortable in the skimpy garb.  “Good luck – we’re all going to need it.”  She kick-started the motorcycle and sped off to the ruined building.

Green Lantern and the Flash exchanged looks of confusion and then bolted toward the invading beast.  “Speaking of what’s in whose league,” Green Lantern said, “maybe you should let me take the first crack at Constellation-Complexion over there, Wally.”

“Maybe we should just triple-team him,” a voice said from above.  Green Lantern and Flash looked up and saw Jack Knight, the current bearer of the mantle of Starman, flying toward them, staff-like cosmic rod in hand.

“All right,” the Flash agreed quickly.  “You two go ahead and blast him, and I’ll be right behind to finish it off.”

Knight and Green Lantern nodded to each other and flew straight at the creature.  Two beams of powerful energy descended on the purple humanoid shape, the emerald force of Green Lantern’s power ring and the blazing yellow of Starman’s cosmic rod.  The creature stopped in its tracks, but rather than faltering, it seemed to draw strength from the assault.  Green Lantern and Starman’s faces contorted as they tried to lower their weapons, but found themselves helplessly pouring more and more energy into their foe.  Finally the creature continued walking, the air surrounding it crackling with power, and Green Lantern and Jack Knight found themselves falling from the air, their weapons completely drained.

The absorption of the combined attack occurred as the Flash raced toward the creature.  Just as the scarlet speedster was about to come within arm’s reach of it, Green Lantern and Jack Knight began to plummet.  Flash attempted to alter his course to catch his friends, but the creature’s arm shot out and the Flash’s skull was snatched in one huge, bruise-colored fist.  The creature hoisted him off the ground and threw him down the street with monstrous force.  The Flash’s arms began windmilling madly, in order to generate an air current that could slow him down, but the end result was similar to stopping an ICBM with a ceiling fan.  The Flash smashed into a brick wall as Green Lantern and Jack Knight collided with the street from above.

THE PACIFIC OCEAN, NEAR La PAZ, MEXICO

 

Aquaman swam swiftly through the waves, approaching the towering form of Chemo as the colossal green and purple monstrosity trudged along the Mexican coastline.  An oily sheen covered the water in Chemo’s wake, dotted frequently by the carcasses of dead marine animals.  The poisonous compounds which composed Chemo’s body were devastating the population of ocean life, and there was little which Aquaman himself could do about it.  He prayed that his backup would arrive soon.

As if in direct response, Tempest skimmed across the top of the water at that moment.  He reached Aquaman’s side and the sovereign of Atlantis said, “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“What’s the plan?” Tempest asked coolly, skipping pleasantries entirely.

“Nothing more than containment, unfortunately,” Aquaman informed him.  “S.T.A.R. Labs apparently was using some kind of prototype containment field which was destroyed when Chemo was let loose.  They’re working on jerry-rigging another one, but for now we need to buy them time.  If we can keep Chemo in one place, hopefully we can stop the spread of pollutants from him until the techies show up.”

Tempest nodded and dove below the surface of the water, all the way to the rocky ocean floor.  Aquaman followed, broadcasting a telepathic message loud and clear to all animals still in the area to leave now.  Tempest’s fists glowed red and energy slashed through the water toward Chemo’s feet.  Moments later the water surrounding Chemo began swirling, gaining speed until the water was churning and a solid white wall enclosed the animate chemical disaster.

Tempest and Aquaman rose to the surface and saw that a gigantic waterspout had risen up around Chemo’s entire body.  Tempest flew into the air to look down directly into the center of the seawater column.  “Hope that holds him,” Aquaman said as Tempest returned to the water’s surface.  “Between the two of us there’s not many other options for holding Chemo off.”

“It should work for a little while.  Chemo’s off balance in there.  The Lab had better hurry, that’s all.”

The roar of a motor increased in volume as it approached, and both men turned to see an oncoming jet ski.  As it neared they could make out the features of a man riding it, a man with short strawberry blond hair, clad only in a bathing suit and what appeared to be red war paint.

“Hey, FishMan and FishBoy.  What’s up?” Guy Gardner hailed the two Atlanteans as he brought the jet ski to rest near them.

“Gardner,” Aquaman acknowledged the newcomer’s presence with a tone devoid of any emotion.

Gardner eyed the waterspout quizzically for a moment, and then asked Aquaman, “Got Chemo in the fountain over there?”

“How did you know that?” Tempest demanded.

Gardner shrugged.  “Been vacationing down in Cabo San Lucas, heard some fisherman who came back into the marina sayin’ they saw something scary moving down the coast.  Sounded a lot like Chemo.  Am I right?”

Aquaman nodded.  “We’re trying to keep him here until S.T.A.R. Labs is able to retrieve him …”

“Aaahhh, we can’t let those eggheads have all the fun,” Gardner insisted, hitting the jet ski’s throttle and moving toward the waterspout.  “What do you say we take Chemo down a few pegs first?” he hollered as he rode off.

“Gardner, NO!” Aquaman yelled, but Gardner paid no heed.  The jet ski was rocketing toward the waterspout, and just before it crashed into the briny wall Gardner extended his arms to his side, transformed each hand into a Vuldarian axe-head, and leapt into the heart of the miniature maelstrom. 

Tempest and Aquaman looked at each other with exasperation, but as soon as eye contact was made each man’s jaw dropped open wide.  Tempest’s high-necked, red and black costume had transformed into a red scaled shirt with a low, square neck and blue scaled briefs.  Aquaman’s beard was gone and his long hair was now short and curly.  A fully intact hand had replaced his cybernetic hook, while his chest armor was replaced by an orange scaled shirt.

The moment of dazed wonder was short-lived, as Guy Gardner was flung out of the giant waterspout, coated in a viscous material and screaming in agony.  Aquaman and Tempest raced toward the curtain of ocean water and Gardner’s burning body.

PIAZZA D’ORO, ROME

 

A silver-skinned man with light blue gloves and boots and a red insignia on his chest soared through the Italian skies, the hero called Captain Atom.  He was flanked in flight by two women, the green-haired Fire and the blond Power Girl.  Behind them, on a soaring fragment of ice, stood the hairy, muscular Tasmanian Devil, brightly-clad Blue Jay, and blue-skinned, white-haired Icemaiden.  They approached the center of the Piazza at top speed, and had only a moment to assess the damage being done below before engaging the monsters that were at its root.

Three behemoths were attempting to lay the piazza to utter waste.  The first was alabaster white, pounding its blunt fists into the ground and sending fissures cracking through the plaza’s grounds.  The second was jet black, wading through merchant carts and sending them flying to shatter in pieces as they impacted against nearby buildings.  The third was a reptilian green and chasing the few remaining people who had not yet escaped from the piazza.

“All right, let’s end this as quickly as possible,” Captain Atom said to his compatriots in a commanding voice.  “They seem preoccupied now, so let’s hit them hard and fast.  PG, Fire, you take the black-skinned one.  I’ll take the white one.  Icemaiden, you and Tas can take on greenie.”

“Hey, what about me?” Blue Jay demanded.  But Captain Atom was already rolling into a dive for his announced target.  The others readied themselves to follow the orders.

The brutish creatures were unaware of the heroes’ approach.  But suddenly a young man with a blond crewcut, wearing a green suit and red bowtie, emerged from an alcove on the edge of the piazza.  Pointing at the sky, the young man yelled, “Absorbo-Man!  Repello-Man!  Medusa-Man!  Stop them!  KILL THEM!!!”

“Johnny Thunder?” Power Girl asked, incredulous.  She hesitated mid-flight, and Fire was the first to reach the inky black beast called Repello-Man, who held up one hand in Fire’s path.  A wave of unseen force rippled out from the monster’s hand and instantly Fire was hurtling backwards through the air as if fired from a cannon.

“Bea!” Power Girl screamed, a split-second before her teammate collided with her and knocked her backwards as well.

Icemaiden brought her flying iceberg to rest in front of the green, scaly Medusa-Man, blocking that monster as he was about to grab an old woman fleeing from him.  Blue Jay shrank and took to the air and Tasmanian Devil jumped off at a run for the monster, cocking a powerful, furry arm back as he crossed the cobblestones.  Medusa-Man stood his ground, and his eyes bored into Tasmanian Devil’s, who never reached his target or threw the punch he had prepared.  Tasmanian Devil simply turned to stone, teetered for a moment on the ball of one foot frozen in mid-run, and then toppled noisily to the ground.

Captain Atom sized up his opponent and prepared to blast the pale monster with quantum energy.  Had his teammates not been fighting so hard for their own lives, they might have noticed the complete change in appearance that Captain Atom underwent.  His hair softened from its silvery metallic cast to white, human hair, and his face became flesh colored.  The silvery metal of his body similarly dissolved, and was replaced by a cloth costume, with a navy blue torso, white arms, and red tights.  The quantum blast exploded from Captain Atom’s fists nonetheless.

Absorbo-Man seemed to expand slightly as the energy engulfed him, and then the monster spread his feet, threw his arms up toward Captain Atom, and fired the quantum energy back at him.  Captain Atom narrowly dodged the blast.

“This does not look good,” Captain Atom shook his head ruefully.

THE SPHINX, EGYPT

 

“Better and better!” the little imp chortled.  “Better and better and better, Hayden!”

“I’m not sure I’m … getting it all right,” the Psycho Pirate admitted with consternation.  His eyes darted nervously from viewsphere to viewsphere.  “I want my world back, but I remember so much from so many worlds that were around … before I lost mine.”  Psycho Pirate laughed self-consciously, a thin, reedy noise.  “And now I’m recalling … recreating … things from old Earth-1?  Earth-4?  Maybe even Earth-A?”

“Details, details!  You’re doing beautifully, Hayd!  You’re the best person in the world to be playing with that oversized toothpick, or my name isn’t Mxyzptlk!”  The 5^th-Dimensional menace positively cackled with an exuberance that threatened to tear him in half.  He managed to continue talking around the demented laughter.  “Ol’ Super-Mental-Midget will never figure out that I’ve arranged for these torture tests he and his fellow J-L-Boobs are going through!  I’ve finally figured out a way to put him through the wringer without him looking for a way to spoil my fun before it starts!”  Mxyzptlk suddenly realized the Psycho Pirate was still watching him.  “Don’t pay me no nevermind, Hayden.  Keep at it!  You just keep right at it!”

Psycho Pirate tittered self-consciously again.  He studied the viewspheres, and then said, “Ah, yes, now here’s something else that’s all wrong.  Another simple little fix …”  With that he pointed the spear at one of the shimmering visions before him.

 

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BENEATH WAYNE MANOR, GOTHAM CITY

 

A roundhouse kick from behind smashed into the back of the Outsider’s head, and caused the mad powerhouse to stagger forwards a step.  As his cape went slack, Batman pushed himself up on his hands and knees and threw one leg straight back like a piston.  The Outsider staggered again and Batman shifted his weight to a crouch on the balls of his feet, reached up to grab the hand clenching his cape, and threw the Outsider over his head.  The Outsider lost his grip on the Dark Knight’s cape, and Batman took several cautionary steps back.

Nightwing stood beside him in a martial stance, watching the Outsider warily.  “Friend of yours?” Batman’s former sidekick asked.

“Not … sure,” Batman replied.  Speaking put a strain on his raw throat muscles.  He simply pointed at the Outsider’s face in a fashion that the man who had spent so many years as Robin recognized as a gesture for “observe closely.”

Nightwing peered at the Outsider with keenly trained eyes, which abruptly widened with recognition.  “Oh my God … is that Alfred?  What’s going on?”

Before Batman could convey an answer, Nightwing’s black and blue garments transformed dramatically.  Suddenly he was attired in a version of the Robin costume, with a thick, wraparound mask, a long sleeved red tunic and long green tights.  His unkempt mane of black hair was much shorter as well. 

Batman’s jaw was set like rock, and he said nothing as Nightwing inspected his metamorphosed costume.  Then the Outsider sat up, leapt to his feet and laughed mirthlessly at the two men.  “You surprised me, Boy Wonder,” the Outsider said menacingly to Nightwing.  “It won’t happen again.  I would say, ‘rest assured,’ but at the moment I think it would be more appropriate to say, ‘rest in peace’!”

With that pronouncement, the Outsider climbed up the nearby computer console and, standing atop its casing, was able to reach the craggy surface of the cave’s ceiling.  An eight-foot wide circle of rock centered around the Outsider’s fingertips began to glow a furious yellow, and suddenly the ceiling gave way as a column of earth was transformed molecularly into sulfuric acid.  As the corrosive wave sloshed over the computer and into the cave, Batman and Nightwing dove to opposite sides, eluding the acid.  The Outsider teleported himself to a position directly beside Batman as the Dark Knight regained his feet, grabbed Batman around the neck and then held him out at arm’s length.  A few steps brought them directly under the hole in the cave’s ceiling, and a devastating uppercut by the Outsider knocked Batman completely through the new-formed tunnel.

The Outsider spun around as Nightwing threw a right cross at the villain’s pale, pebbly head.  The Outsider easily side-stepped the blow, and threw his arms around Nightwing in a crushing bearhug.  The Outsider teleported himself and Nightwing to the grounds above, then tossed Nightwing savagely into the disoriented Batman.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” a stentorian voice from overhead announced.  It belonged to Alan Scott, the Sentinel, flying in a nimbus of jade flames. 

The Outsider scowled up at the original Green Lantern.  “Would that be the royal ‘we,’ fool?” he mocked.  “You seem to be alone, and I will not abide your ill-advised interference in any case!”

“Actually, the other half of ‘we’ is me!” explained Jay Garrick, the original Flash, as he burst into view and swiftly dealt a series of blows to the Outsider while running a tight circle around him.  The Outsider reeled momentarily under the attack, and Garrick relented, allowing Scott to rain dark green fire down on their foe.  The flames appeared to come from Scott’s hands, but then their point of origin shifted to his knuckles, then narrowed further to one knuckle, where a ring shaped like a railroad lantern adorned his finger.  Scott’s dark red and green costume shifted as well, to loose green trousers, a red blouse, and a purple cape.

The Outsider was encircled by a high-strength line attached to a Batarang that whizzed in a spiral path around his muscular body.  Batman pulled the line taut with all his strength, but was no match for the Outsider, even after the attacks of the Flash and Sentinel.  The Outsider shrugged off the cable, quickly had it in his grip, and heaved Batman off the ground.  The Outsider swung Batman into Sentinel, and the surprising force of the blow knocked Alan Scott out of the air.

Jay Garrick sped to Nightwing’s side.  “Holy Hercules, Robin,” he breathed.  Nightwing did not laugh.

JLA WATCHTOWER

 

Zauriel leaned close to the microphone relay that broadcast to JLA communication channels.  “Wonder Woman, I’ve gotten word from Captain Marvel, who says that he and Mary Marvel will meet you and Steel in Saudi Arabia.  Martian Manhunter, you will be joined in China by Dr. Light, Blue Beetle and Booster Gold.  I will continue trying to raise more reserve members; the rest of the League is not faring well.”

“Acknowledged,” J’onn J’onzz replied.

“Any answers from Batman yet, Zauriel?” Wonder Woman inquired.

“No,” Zauriel said with some trepidation.

“Hera help us all until he solves this riddle, then” Wonder Woman signed off.

Zauriel glanced up at the hovering figure of the Spectre, who loomed in the corner of the Monitor Womb as immutable as a gargoyle.  “Is the Presence so disturbed by these random attacks around the world?” the angel asked the Spirit of Vengeance.  “Or is it that which has caused them to appear that draws you here?”

The Spectre made no answer.  The Monitor Womb itself, however, began to shake violently.  Zauriel spread his wings and flew out of the control seat.  The entire Watchtower seemed to rock from side to side as if pulling itself loose from the surface of the moon.

“Spectre!  What is happening?” Zauriel demanded.

Still the Spectre said nothing.  The Watchtower continued its rumbling departure from its foundations.  Far below, on the Earth’s surface, a golden spear glowed fiercely and two disturbing laughs mingled above the desert sands.

TO BE CONTINUED …