What has gone before: The Psycho Pirate has escaped from Arkham Asylum, courtesy of the fifth-dimensional ne’er-do-well Mxyzptlk bestowing upon him the power of the Spear of Destiny.  In an effort to recreate the Earth-2 which persists in his memories, the Psycho Pirate has resurrected both allies and enemies who have never existed in the world after the great Crisis, as well as altered the appearance of many other heroes.  As the Psycho Pirate taps into deeper levels of power, the Earth begins to suffer in the form of bizarre weather and natural disasters, as its heroes struggle to combat the Psycho Pirate’s madness come to life …

THE PACIFIC OCEAN

 

Dark clouds rushed in from all corners of the sky, and squalling winds began to swirl across the increasingly rough surface of the sea.  Tempest continued to maintain a waterspout around the rampaging chemical monster known as Chemo, while Aquaman struggled to keep the fierce waves from pulling Guy Gardner under.     

“Gardner!  Gardner!  Talk to us, dammit!” Aquaman cursed gruffly at the Warrior as he held his badly burned body half out of the water.  Slowly, Gardner’s eyes began to open.

“You all right?” Tempest asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Chemo’s watery prison.

“Actually, I feel pretty much like refried crap,” Gardner answered hoarsely.  “And after a week in Mexico believe me, I know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“That was sheer idiocy, attacking Chemo like that,” Aquaman observed unsympathetically.

“Yeah, I know,” Gardner grumbled.  “I think I made him mad.”

As the skies continued to churn with darkening clouds, the towering water column that had previously enclosed Chemo suddenly converted to steam and dissipated on the ocean winds, as the volatile chemicals Chemo pumped into the ocean reacted with one another and released tremendous amounts of heat.  The green and purple behemoth waded closer to the threesome and released a toxic discharge from a mouth-like aperture.  Aquaman dove to the left, with Gardner under one arm; Tempest swam swiftly to the right.

“Oh!  Am I too late?  Is he all right?” a girl’s voice called out with concern from above Aquaman’s head.  The King of Atlantis turned his eyes to the sky and saw a golden-skinned girl with flowing white hair.  She wore a costume of blue and yellow, with red and yellow wings beneath her arms, and a trail of fire followed her through the air.  “I came as soon as Firestorm let me know what was going on!”

“Firehawk!” Aquaman recognized the young heroine.  “Gardner’s going to be all right, but you might be able to help with the bigger problem!  We were supposed to keep Chemo at bay until the S.T.A.R. Labs field crew got here with a containment solution.  They’re on the way via speedboat, but the weather certainly doesn’t seem to be cooperating.  If you can fly in this storm, you might be able to get the device from them and get back here with it that much sooner.  Will you go look for them?”

Firehawk began to nod, but Gardner held up his hand.  “No!” the Warrior insisted.  “We can …” Gardner interrupted himself to cough painfully, “… we can stop Chemo, I think.”  Gardner raised his head weakly from Aquaman’s shoulder and winked at Firehawk.  “I got a couple good shots in on the walking waste dump before he nailed me with the formaldehyde from hell, babe.  There’s a decent-sized gash on the left side of Chemo’s neck.  Maybe if you can pump enough fire in through that hole, you can cause Chemo a world of hurt.”  Gardner’s head slumped and another coughing fit racked his frame.

Firehawk looked to Aquaman expectantly.  The sovereign of the seven seas pondered for a split-second, then nodded once.  Firehawk shot off in a blaze of flames, and Aquaman hailed Tempest with his free arm.  “Cover her!” Aquaman hollered.

Firehawk rose to eye-level with Chemo, searching for the tear in Chemo’s protective skin which Gardner claimed to have created.  The fiery heroine soared straight at Chemo’s head, and at the last moment cut sharply to the left, then threw out both hands and began projecting intense waves of flame at the wound.  It was hard to tell if the fire was actually penetrating to Chemo’s viscous innards, but Firehawk made the super-hot column unrelenting.

Her feint at Chemo’s head bought her only a few seconds respite.  The green and purple behemoth swatted at the empty air in front of its head, then tried to backhand Firehawk.  She dove into an evasive loop and came back up shooting more flames at, and hopefully into, her gigantic adversary.

Chemo turned its head to fire a stream of corrosive chemicals at Firehawk, but as the stream exited the monster’s head it was knocked aside by a tremendous wave of ocean water, courtesy of Tempest.  Firehawk continued to pour flames from her hands, and now she could see a discolored spot inside Chemo’s neck, like a sickly chemical bruise.  Firehawk gave as much heat to the flames as she could muster, projecting them white-hot, and the burning chemical bruise began to spread as Chemo boiled internally.  The monster’s forward progress had stopped now; Chemo seemed frozen by the injury Firehawk was inflicting.

Although incapable of emotion, Chemo seemed almost fearful as it raised its left arm in one final attempt to counterattack Firehawk.  Firehawk simply flew higher, out of Chemo’s reach, and pushed as much searing flame as she could muster into the monster’s body.  The discoloration rapidly spread entirely up Chemo’s arm, which fell limply against the behemoth’s side.  Firehawk, meanwhile, teetered on the verge of unconsciousness from exertion, and began to fall from the sky.

Just before the young heroine struck the water, two dolphins leapt from the ocean’s surface and caught Firehawk gently across their backs.  Aquaman breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and communicated telepathically with his bottle-nosed allies.  I am glad you were so close-by.  I would not have wanted the girl to be hurt.

We are happy to have helped, one of the dolphin’s answered.  As for our nearness, we were looking for you, King Orin.  A grave peril threatens Poseidonis.  You must come quickly.

                Aquaman indicated his understanding, and Firehawk began to rouse herself, slightly startled to be astride a dolphin at the water’s surface.  “Firehawk, thank you.  Amazingly, Gardner’s plan seems to have worked; Chemo isn’t moving.  I hope you haven’t hurt yourself in the process.”

“I’ll be fine,” she answered groggily.

“I need to return to Atlantis.  Can you wait here for S.T.A.R. Labs, just make sure Chemo really isn’t going anywhere?  After that, you should probably find a way to meet up with the rest of the Justice League – let them know I’m otherwise occupied,” Aquaman explained.

“Whattabout me?” Gardner asked groggily.

Aquaman sighed.  “I suppose you should join the Justice League, too, Gardner.  They probably won’t refuse the assistance.  Firehawk, just keep an eye on him and get him to a hospital if that’s where he belongs.”

Firehawk agreed and Aquaman swam across to Tempest.  “Trouble back home,” he explained simply.  “Let’s go, chum.”

Tempest gaped at Aquaman disbelievingly.  “Chum??”

“Sorry.  Must be the clothes,” Aquaman indicated Tempest’s red scale shirt and blue scale trunks which resembled his Aqualad costume.  Without another word, Aquaman dove beneath the waves and headed for Poseidonis, followed by Tempest.  Firehawk and Guy Gardner remained behind to guard the seemingly inert Chemo, as the ocean continued to froth under the furiously stormy skies.

THE OILFIELDS NORTH OF RIYADH, SAUDI ARABIA

 

Mary Marvel and Captain Marvel, Jr. were the first to react to their brother’s injury at the hands of Byth.  The shape-changer, wearing the guise of the Negative Man, streaked down to sandy ground, laughing loudly and cruelly, and the Marvels followed closely behind him.

Captain Marvel, Jr. took the lead, scant feet behind Byth as the shapeshifter’s crackling black form touched the desert sands.  In the instant before the youngest Marvel could reach him, Byth transformed into a muscular man in a red, white and blue costume, the first Justice Leaguer to be known as Steel.  Captain Marvel, Jr. threw a solid cross punch across Byth’s jaw, and immediately withdrew his hand in pain as he landed clumsily on the ground beside Byth.  For his part, the shape-changer only continued to laugh.

High above, Wonder Woman scrutinized the young blond woman who had called her “Mother.”  Trying to speak calmly and gently, the Amazonian princess said, “I am afraid today is my day to be met by those who recognize me without my own recollection of them.”

The girl’s face clouded.  “Mother … I … it’s me … Fury…?”

Wonder Woman’s heart went out to the girl, sympathizing with her pain, confusing as it was to her.  So consumed were the two women that they failed to notice the first crystals of ice swirling through the air, or the rapidly falling temperature of the desert winds.

The armored John Henry Irons, the current Steel on the Justice League’s roster, flew up to join Wonder Woman and Fury.  He paused for a moment as if not wanting to intrude, then said, “Wonder Woman, I’ve gotten most of the sizable fires under control.  But from the looks of things fire is going to be the least of our worries in a couple of minutes.”

Wonder Woman and Fury looked around and realized that the weather was building to a full-scale blizzard.  Sheets of ice were already spreading across the rippling sand below.  Wailing, frigid gales swept in all directions.  And in the midst of the mounting snow and flashes of lightning, Mary Marvel and Byth traded blows like thunder.

“Our first priority should be stopping that mad creature,” Wonder Woman said, indicating Byth.  “Then we will make contact with the rest of the Justice League and determine the extent of the unstable weather.”

Before the words were out of Wonder Woman’s mouth, Fury was diving toward Byth, stone-faced and determined.  Steel and Wonder Woman followed close behind, as Captain Marvel caught up with them, finally recovered from his physical punishment at Byth’s hands.

“Holey moley, that guy packs a punch!” Captain Marvel said as he pulled even with the JLAers.  “How come we’ve never heard of him before?”

“I do not know,” Wonder Woman shook her head.  “Although I am beginning to feel as though we should have.  So much more is wrong beyond burning oil wells and strange weather.”

Fury nearly knocked Mary Marvel to the ground in order to reach Byth, and began a rain of flying fists upon the shape-changer, who now wore the form of Metamorpho, shifting his own hands into mallets and spiked maces.  Fury battled him with almost complete disregard for her own safety, which consumed all of Byth’s attention.  Mary Marvel was able to rejoin the attack from the side, and Captain Marvel, Jr. regained his feet and lent his strength in an attack from the rear. 

By the time Wonder Woman, Steel and Captain Marvel closed within striking distance, Byth had stopped laughing and shifted to the defensive.  With the odds six-to-one against, however, Byth was quickly overpowered and overwhelmed.  The assault drove the shapeshifter finally to the ground, unconscious.

The six heroes looked around at each other.  Wild ice-chipped winds continued to blast across the oilfield, and all of the fires had been frozen out.  Before any of them could speak to one another, Zauriel began to speak on the Justice League communication circuit.

“Hold on, Zauriel,” Steel interrupted.  “We’ve got company, and I’ll put you on my suit’s external speakers.”  After a pause, Steel said, “Go ahead.”

“I am contacting all of the JLA and suggesting we reconvene on the satellite,” the angel’s voice broadcast, nearly drowned out by the blizzard’s winds.  “I have new insight into the goings-on and believe they require a new approach on a unified front.”

“Roger that,” Steel answered.  “But did you say ‘on the satellite’?  Do you mean on the moon – at the Watchtower?”

“I mean the Watchtower – such as it is now.  And I mean the satellite which the Watchtower has become.  You will see what I mean when you teleport here.”

Wonder Woman broke the stunned silence.  “We must reserve our questions until after the actions have been taken to make Earth safe,” she insisted.  “Come.”  The final word was as much regal command as invitation or request, and the others followed the Amazon princess to the teleporter.

THE DAILY PLANET BUILDING, METROPOLIS

 

Superman slowed his breathing, tried to ignore the pounding of his head and willed his vision to clear.  The times at which the Man of Steel was forced to deal with pain in any form were rare, but when they came along he was grateful for the techniques he had learned from Batman during their partnerships and time together in the Justice League.  Superman steadied himself and took stock of the situation.

Superman was one of five figures on the building’s rooftop.  The second was Lex Luthor, girded in an early model of the LexCorp power armor in shades of chartreuse and magenta.  The remaining three were duplicates of a bizarre humanoid creature with lime-green skin and a costume resembling Superman’s own on the right half and Batman’s on the left, calling itself the Composite Superman.  One of the duplicates stood immediately behind Superman, and had virtually mummified the Man of Steel by wrapping its elastic arms tightly around the entire length of Superman’s body, leaving only his head exposed.  The other two duplicates faced off against Luthor.

“Insufferable meddler!” all three duplicate Composites raged, while Luthor shifted his guarded gaze between the two standing closest to him.  “Now is the moment of my greatest victory, the ultimate defeat of the pitiful Superman!  I will not have it sullied by the interference of an insignificant gnat such as yourself!”

“I have far more hate in me for Superman than even the three of you put together,” Luthor responded trenchantly, levitating off the rooftop under the power of his armor’s boot jets.  “You’ll be hard pressed to stop me from exacting my own punishment on my most hated foe – and I don’t mind going through all of you in the process.”  Luthor smiled venomously as he finished the threat.

The Composite nearest Luthor threw its hands toward him, and a glow of energy engulfed Luthor’s armor.  Luthor retained his impervious smirk, but the whine of his boot jets’ servo motors became more high-pitched, as if struggling to keep a heavier weight aloft.  Luthor’s form wobbled in mid-air as he struggled angrily with the armor’s controls.  As the boot jets’ whine glissandoed into a protesting shriek, Luthor plummeted gracelessly to the street below, which his armor struck with the force of several tons, sending tremors through the entire Daily Planet building.

The two Composites turned toward Superman and their third counterpart with identical expressions of violent satisfaction.  Before they could boast yet again of Superman’s imminent defeat at their hands, the Man of Steel unleashed a wide blast of heat vision that knocked both Composite duplicates onto their backs.  Immediately Superman cast his red-hot eyes down on the arms of the duplicate holding him, but that Composite was already swinging Superman high into the air.  A moment later Superman was rammed headfirst into the massive golden orb atop the Daily Planet building.

Before the long-limbed Composite could press the advantage, a barrage of attacks assailed the elongated arms.  A solid silver forcebeam battered the distended limbs, alongside waves of heat energy and several razor-sharp arrows.  The Composite yowled in pain and lost its iron grip on Superman, who fell to the rooftop in a daze.

“Never fear, Supes!  The Titans are here!” the blond boy called Risk announced.  His teammates Argent and Joto flanked him on a hovering, iridescent platform created by Argent, and their mentor, Arsenal, stood behind them.

The wounded Composite scowled furiously at the Titans as the two Composites leveled by Superman’s heat vision began to regain their feet.  “No more!” the Composite Supermen bellowed.  “No more will I be thwarted in my final, glorious vanquishing of your Superman!  You risk my wrath, children!”  At that, all three duplicates swept their arms toward Argent’s platform, and waves of metal fragments were torn magnetically out of the roof’s underlying supports and aimed at the Titans, who quickly scattered to avoid the incoming shrapnel.

Superman began to rise to his hands and knees.  A voice sounded through his JLA communicator.  “Superman, it’s me – Atom,” Professor Ray palmer, the Justice Leaguer known as the Atom made his presence known to the Man of Steel.  “I think I’ve got a plan here … I just need you to help buy me a little time.  And make sure none of those kids get themselves killed.”

“I’ll do my best with both,” Superman breathed in response.  The building shook under his hands yet again.

TIANNEMEN SQUARE, CHINA

 

“Well now what?” Booster Gold asked.

He stood over the prone form of Oom, the huge gray-skinned monster he had brought down, with the help of Martian Manhunter, Plastic-Man, Dr. Light, Blue Beetle, and Princess Fern.  The combined might of the heroes had been more than enough match for the creature.  The rampaging villain and his underlings had been stopped and the Chinese authorities were en route to take them all into custody.

“Reckon our work here is done,” Plastic-Man answered, rearranging his body parts into the shape of a giant, talking cowboy hat.  “Time to saddle up and head on home.”

“I am curious as to the point of origin of these people,” Martian Manhunter said.  “They almost seem to have come literally from nowhere …”

An impossibly loud thunderclap cut J’onn J’onzz short.  The heroes looked to the skies and saw coal-black clouds surging in from all corners.  As they neared, funnels dropped from the cloud bellies and began tearing apart all that lay in their paths.  Two, three, four … five separate, powerful tornados roared along the ground.

“What …?” Princess Fern spun around observing the suddenly violent weather.

“No!” Dr. Light gasped.

Blue Beetle’s alarm was more urgent than either of the women’s.  “My AIRSHIP!”

One tornado had seized the hovering Beetleship in its swirling maw, and the massive craft now swung crazily in a spiral rapidly approaching the ground.  The heroes scattered to either side, except for Plastic-Man.  The pliable Leaguer stretched his body high into the air and expanded to become a giant butterfly net on legs.  The Beetleship passed into the mouth of the net, but with such force that it stretched Plastic-Man’s body with unchecked speed, and slammed into the ground with an explosive crash.

“Gaaaah!” Plastic-Man screamed.  “I’m pinned under a humongous metal bug and I can’t get up!”

Martian Manhunter and Princess Fern rushed to the side of the airship as Plastic-Man’s body receded around its sides.  The young princess summoned a flying buttress from the earth to raise the airship, while the Manhunter from Mars added his own strength to lifting the Beetleship.  The craft flipped over, freeing Plastic-Man.  Huge cracks ran all along the airship’s hull, and three of its landing legs were crumpled.

“Oh, my poor ship …” Blue Beetle lamented.

“Bigger problems than that right now, buddy,” Booster Gold pointed out.  “We gotta figure out what we’re doing now about these twisters.”

“Perhaps not,” J’onzz said as he and Princess Fern helped Plastic-Man limp back to join the others.  “I am receiving a telepathic message from Zauriel … he is asking all of us to return to the Justice League Satellite …”

“The one in storage?” Blue Beetle asked incredulously.

J’onzz’s protruding Martian brow furrowed.  “No … the Watchtower is now an orbiting satellite … Zauriel will explain more when we have all reassembled.  He believes a greater threat than these natural disasters faces us.”

“I hope we are equal to the task,” Dr. Light said, as the heroes departed for a teleporter to the satellite.

THE DAILY PLANET BUILDING, METROPOLIS

 

Risk and Arsenal moved in on one of the Composite Supermen, hoping to double-team the strange foe.  The duplicate Composite thrust his hands out at the two Titans and in a heartbeat clear glass globes encased each of the heroes.  Risk pounded on his glass ball with his fists, as Arsenal fired high-impact arrows at the smooth inner surface of his own, but the prisons held.

Joto and Argent were likewise attempting to double-team one of the Composites.  Argent’s silvery solid force wrapped around their green-skinned opponent, while a blast of heat washed over the Composite courtesy of Joto.  The Composite Superman responded by increasing his own size twenty-fold.  Argent’s energy bonds burst and Joto’s heat attack became significantly less effective.  The Composite’s massive fists swung down and knocked the two young Titans to the roof.

Superman circled the third Composite in low flight, and the Composite joined him in the air.  They traced an elliptical dual orbit for a few moments and then hurled themselves at each other.  Flurries of super-speed, super-strong punches flew between the Man of Steel and the Composite, with neither combatant giving quarter.  Without warning, however, the Composite duplicate’s guard went down, and Superman was able to connect a solid blow with the Composite’s lime-colored nose.  The Composite went down hard on the roof of the building, and when he rose to his knees he clutched his head.

“My … brain!!!” the Composite bellowed.  The other two duplicates abandoned their tussles with the other heroes and merged with the third, and still the Composite Superman was unable to rise to his feet.

“I can read your thoughts in there, Atom!  But I won’t let you stay in there long enough to succeed!  Now get OUT!!!”  With that, the Composite Superman began to shrink, and swiftly became so small that he vanished from site.

The glass globes imprisoning Arsenal and Risk disappeared, and Joto and Argent picked themselves up from the damaged roof surface to move closer to Superman.  They all stared at the spot the Composite had occupied a moment before.  After a few seconds passed, the Composite returned, popping into view at full size.  His bi-polar costume was gone, replaced by a dingy uniform that seemed befitting of a janitor, but his green-skinned face was still recognizable, even unconscious.

The Atom popped out of the Composite’s ear a moment later and grew to his own “normal” six-inch height.

“Congratulations,” Superman nodded appreciatively at the Atom.  “How did you manage that?”

“I intended to short-out a crucial synapse or two,” the Atom admitted, “but once I got in there and he started trying to shrink me out, I had a better idea.  At sub-meson levels I could see the radiation that was granting him all of his powers.  So I kept shrinking to keep him shrinking, and when he was smaller than the radiation frequencies, he lost the power.”

“Way Discovery Channel,” Argent breathed.

“I’m just glad you stopped him before he tore all of us new ones,” Joto said.

“Ahhh, we had him on the ropes,” Risk insisted.

Arsenal was about to add his own perspective when a tremendous rumbling overcame the building.  Up and down the city block, buildings shook violently as Metropolis was gripped by a scale-topping earthquake.

“Get into the air!” Superman commanded, before bolting into flight himself.  Argent obeyed, scooping her teammates and the Atom up onto a silvery platform.

Superman flew down the street, as the high-pitched screech of building supports giving way reached his ears.  Guided by his super-hearing, the Man of Steel found the skyscraper as it began to topple into the street.

Without hesitation, Superman flew at the middle of the building and braced it with his shoulder.  He stopped the fall of the skyscraper, but the sudden jolt knocked loose several massive antennas and equipment from the building’s roof.  Quick bursts of heat vision vaporized the falling material before it could strike anyone on the street below.

Superman returned his attention to righting the skyscraper before its structural integrity crumbled.  A red and blue comet streaked through the air toward him, and for an instant the Man of Steel feared that the Atom’s gambit had failed after all.  Then the blur resolved itself into a familiar form: the Maid of Might, Supergirl.  She looked slightly different than the last time Superman had seen her – her hair was curlier, and a red headband encircled her forehead.  Her costume seemed slightly different as well, but Superman spared no more time to its consideration.

“Glad to see you, Supergirl,” he said.  “Lend me a hand?”

“You bet, cousin,” Supergirl agreed happily.  The Man of Steel glanced quizzically at his female protétgé, then both pushed with their considerable combined strength and restored the skyscraper to upright balance.  The tremors throughout the city subsided as well, although a palpable tension remained in the atmosphere.

Argent’s platform sped into sight and approached the Kryptonian duo.  As they approached Arsenal hailed, “Superman, what’s the status?  What’s going on?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure at all,” Superman admitted.  “It’s been a day of too many crises for the JLA to keep ahead of.  I don’t have any new answers, but maybe someone else in the League does.”  The Man of Steel activated his communicator.  “Zauriel?  How are we doing?”

“In need of a change in strategy.  I’d urge you to join us here without delay.  Almost everyone is already here,” Zauriel insisted.

“You mean the entire League?” Superman asked.

“Considerably more than that,” the angel replied.

The line of Superman’s mouth set determinedly.  “I’ll be there soon,” he acknowledged.  Turning to the others, he said, “It looks as though we’re rallying all the troops.  I want you all to come with me.”

“No way!” Argent gasped.  “For real?”

“Welcome to the big leagues, kiddo,” Supergirl smiled, in the cockiest tone Superman had ever heard from her.  Yet something nagged at his memory, some insistence that he had known this side of Supergirl before.  He tried to make sense of the feeling as he led the others to the nearest JLA teleporter.

JUSTICE LEAGUE SATELLITE,
ORBITING 22,300 MILES ABOVE THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH
(that line hasn't gotten old to me yet, sorry.)

 

The central meeting room of the satellite was filled wall to wall with heroes, gathered in smaller groups and exchanging information on the happenings of the day.  On the left side of the room, the two Flashes, Jay Garrick and Wally West, compared experiences along with the two Green Lanterns, Alan Scott and Kyle Rayner.  The Atom perched on the head of Steel’s hammer as the two men discussed the scientific implications of recent events.  Risk, Joto and Argent caught up with Supergirl and Captain Marvel Jr., with Mary and Captain Marvel nearby.  Behind them, Blue Beetle and Booster Gold delivered questionable accounts of their involvement in the affair so far to Green Fury and Ice Maiden.

On the right side of the meeting room, Arsenal and Nightwing exchanged viewpoints while beside them Firestorm and Firehawk tried to converse despite the interrupting antics of Plastic-Man.  Black Canary, Power Girl and the Martian Manhunter ruminated together on the circumstances they now found themselves in.  Dr. Light kept a comforting arm around Princess Fern; Captain Atom and Jack Knight compared notes; and Guy Gardner called Blue Jay’s manhood into question for never visiting Warrior’s Bar and Grill.  Keeping slightly more distance between themselves and the rest than any other cluster, Huntress, Airwave, Fury, and Batwoman spoke in hushed tones of bewilderment.  Above all, floating ominously in a corner of the room, the Spectre remained a silent observer.

Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman and Zauriel conferred near the monitors at the front of the room.  After a few minutes of discussion, Batman sternly commanded Zauriel, “Make it go away.”  The Dark Knight pointed at the viewscreen that had been touched by the Spectre and showed the Psycho Pirate in the Sahara.  Zauriel regarded Batman quizzically, and Batman explained, “If we can see him, it’s possible he can see us.  And now that we know as much as we do I don’t want to overplay our hand.  Cut the connection.  Now.”

Zauriel looked to Superman and Wonder Woman, who nodded their agreement.  The angel unsheathed his flaming sword and drew it gently down the middle of the screen.  The scrying image sloughed off and evaporated, revealing the flat gray surface of an inert monitor beneath it.

Batman turned to face the rest of the assembled heroes, and the room quieted almost immediately under his brooding gaze.  “We seem to have determined the root cause of the recent unexplained events, both the appearance of the various hostile entities around the world and the current volatile weather and natural phenomena.  Somehow, the Psycho Pirate has taken possession of the Spear of Destiny.  Given the Pirate’s inherent reality-warping powers, this is a threat with potentially universal consequences.  Additionally, it’s unclear what the Psycho Pirate is hoping to accomplish at this point.”

“I’ll tell you what he’s already accomplished,” Captain Atom announced loudly.  “One of those creatures the Psycho Pirate dumped in Italy turned Tasmanian Devil to stone!”

“We’ll help him in any way we can, once the current crisis is under control,” Wonder Woman spoke reassuringly.  “Taking the Spear of Destiny out of that madman’s hands must be our first priority.”

“Agreed,” Batman nodded.  “Many of our colleagues are still on the homefronts, managing as best they can against the natural disasters.  But Earth’s best bet for survival is disarming the Psycho Pirate.  That will be Superman’s job, with those of us able to do so backing him up.”

“Big Blue’s always gotta be our go-to boy, huh?” Guy Gardner sneered.

“Superman was the last person who had direct contact with the Spear, before it came into the Psycho Pirate’s possession,” Zauriel countered Gardner’s remark.  “The Spear has imprinted on him, as it does anyone who touches it, and therefore Superman is uniquely suited to succeed in this endeavor.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gardner rolled his eyes.

 

THE SPHINX, EGYPT

 

“… and that will be Superman’s job …” the voice of Batman emanated from the depths of the pearlescent viewsphere floating before the Psycho Pirate.  Even through the sandstorm currently raging around the mythical monolith, the Psycho Pirate could hear his enemies plotting against him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk …” the Psycho Pirate hissed venomously.  “I won’t be letting go of the Spear any time soon, I’m afraid.  I’m certainly not going to let Superman take it away from me.  Not when I know so many ways to significantly reduce his effectiveness…”

The Spear of Destiny was pointed at the desert floor, and the sands began to swirl like water down a drain.  Out of the ground rose an enormous missile, with a nose cone radiating a dark and malign green light.  Higher and higher the missile rose, until its booster rockets cleared the surface sands and the entire giant weapon hovered impossibly before the Sphinx.

“No … death would be too easy …” the Psycho Pirate lamented.  “No deadly kryptonite payload for Superman, no painful demise for the leader of the heroes … not yet, at least …”  As the missile boosters ignited, sending the huge weapon out into space toward a target in the Psycho Pirate’s mind, the glow of the nosecone swirled and changed colors.

The pale light cast by the missile’s thrusters danced across the Psycho Pirate’s sickly smiling face.  “Too bad you’re going to miss this little twist, Mxyzptlk,” the Psycho Pirate tittered.  “You would have loooooved it…”

JUSTICE LEAGUE SATELLITE, IN ORBIT

 

“We’ll need approximately a dozen volunteers to keep the Psycho Pirate off-balance,” Superman stated.  “We’ve all seen some indication of what he’s now capable of, so you all know this is no small undertaking.  If less than a dozen volunteer, I understand.  I’ll go in alone if I have to …”

Murmurs around the meeting room interrupted Superman’s speech.  Heroes began to raise their hands and protest the notion of Superman confronting their enemy alone.  But before the call for volunteers could be finished, the satellite lurched erratically in its orbit, as if struck by a monstrous, unseen hand.  The floor of the meeting room buckled, and exploded upward as the nose of a huge missile crashed through.  The missile came to rest with ten feet of its front end jutting into the meeting room, and its nosecone glowed an eerie red that bathed the entire chamber in crimson hues.  The rupture in the outer wall of the satellite, not completely filled by the shaft of the missile, exposed the artificial atmosphere to the vacuum of space, and the air began to rush out of the satellite.

Instantly the heroes were in motion.  Superman and Martian Manhunter trained their heat vision on the missile and severed it just above the floor of the meeting room.  Captain Marvel pushed the tail end of the missile back out of the satellite, and Firestorm quickly transmuted as many stray molecules as possible to recreate the flooring and patch the hole.  Soon the structural integrity of the satellite had been restored, and all that remained was the glowing red nosecone.

In the ensuing relative calm, Fury, Huntress, Airwave and Supergirl were frozen with looks of shock on their faces, as they stared at the pulsating ruby-like nose of the missile.  Huntress finally gave voice to their common concern, as she wrenched her eyes away from the nosecone and looked directly at the Man of Steel.  “Red Kryptonite!” she gasped.

Green Lantern reacted at the speed of thought, and momentarily an emerald simulacrum of the Metal Man called Lead was projected from his power ring and completely enclosed the nosecone.  “Hey, I’m not one to take the Big S’s weakness lightly,” Green Lantern admitted, “but isn’t the stuff supposed to be green?”

“Yes,” Superman answered with distraction, as he carefully watched Supergirl, who still seemed deathly afraid of the material within Green Lantern’s energy construct.  “Supergirl, what is it?  Where have you run across …”

“Get it out of here, Kal!” Supergirl nearly shrieked.  “There’s no telling what it will do!  It’s probably too late, but get rid of it, now!”

“All right,” Superman tried to reassure the Maid of Might.  “Lantern, you heard her, dispose of it!”

Green Lantern complied, willing the spherical green Metal Man to swell to enclose the entire missile and then compact it.  The light construct then flew down the corridor of the satellite under Green Lantern’s mental command, reached an airlock, and jettisoned the debris.

“Are you going to be OK now?” Superman asked Supergirl.

Supergirl shook her head, then began to wail as if a horrible pain had penetrated every fiber of her being.  Her fists clenched, her eyes shut tight and she began to shake uncontrollably.  Seconds later she dropped to her knees on the meeting room floor, and began to glow in the same eerie red as the kryptonite.

Superman moved to help her, only to find himself similarly racked with pain at the same moment.  He stopped with one arm outstretched to Supergirl, his face contorting as he struggled not to scream.  The red glow engulfed him as well.

Supergirl’s hair stood on end, fanning out to surround her head, and then began to harden into a scalloped plate.  Her nose and mouth protruded from her face and became muzzle-like.  A horn began to grow from the end of her nose, as two more appeared on her forehead, one over each eye.  Supergirl fell forward onto her hands; her arms and legs began to shorten as her torso grew rounder.  From beneath her skirt, a tail began to emerge.  As the JLA and the rest of the heroes watched helplessly, Supergirl was transformed into a small, yellow triceratops in Supergirl’s costume.

Superman, meanwhile, had fallen onto his back and continued to struggle against the pain.  It became too great, and the Man of Steel bellowed wordlessly, as his own body began to change shape slightly, growing almost imperceptibly broader across the middle.  Superman’s facial features vacillated rapidly between looking aged and worn to childishly soft.  Wonder Woman and Batman approached him, kneeling on either side of him, trying desperately to gain some sense of what was happening.

Abruptly, Superman came apart.

Wonder Woman found herself holding the arm of a Superman shorter and less heavily muscled than the JLA chairman any of them knew.  He seemed to be no older than fifteen, and looked around the satellite meeting room with wide-eyed wonder, propping himself up on his elbows hesitantly.

Batman was now beside another Superman, this one with graying temples and the wrinkles of late middle-age around the corners of his eyes and mouth.  He was taller and more powerfully built than his younger counterpart, but still not quite as muscular as the Superman who had fallen to the floor of the meeting room moments before.  This elder Superman sat up, rubbed one hand across his face, and then looked around the room at the assembled heroes and smiled disarmingly.

“I always knew they said that memory was the first thing to go,” Superman the elder joked, “but for some reason I can’t seem to remember in the slightest what we’re all doing here.  But judging by the sheer number, I’d say the world needs saving again.  Am I right?”

Batman and Wonder Woman looked at each other with profound confusion.  Neither one seemed to know what to do next.

 

TO BE CONTINUED ….!!!!