Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Avengers X Justice League: Kingdom Come

Prelude: Those who watch this new world

Time, Space, Reality, its more than a linear path, it’s a prism of endless possibility. Where a single choice can branch into infinite realities.

But time and space are relative, and reality, even that can be a matter of perspective. As for the endless possibilities, the branches cross and loop and create constants across the Multiverse.

In the beginning there was only one, a single black infinitude, then the infinitude found release and finally the darkness broke filling it with life.

This last part is the great lie, there was no single black infinitude, there was only the grand light, absolute light.

He stood within the seemingly formless and colourless hull of his observation ship. His body too though appearing to be male and muscular, lacked any markings, he was faceless but not eyeless. Looking out into a great and vast web of possibilities, he could see a great darkness sweeping across them all.

“He’s coming, forcing his way through reality,” the expressionless man said.

His eyes widened as a blip appeared across the web. He took hold of the blip and analysed it, the blip split and began to form a web of its own.

“Someone has defied fate, endangering all of existence, there will be consequences,” the man in the light seethed.

If the expressionless man could be called someone who was beyond all, then there were those entities who existed in a stage between beyond and mortal existence. Watchers were such beings, an alien race that could transcend reality and held the natural charge and urge to observe events of timeline altering significance.

The Watcher, garbed in his blue robes and gold boots and cuffs, looked out at the gaps between universes, represented by glass walls. The cracks in these walls were worlds, some of whom he had counted friends in, Captain Carter, Starlord T’Challa and Prince Thor. But he saw other worlds as well, ones that were literally black and white, or worlds where it was not Avengers, but mutant heroes or champions of justice that fought for the Multiverse.

Once, the Watcher chose to interfere, saving the Multiverse from Ultron, a machine that had succeeded in purging his universe of human life. Empowered by the infinity stones, Ultron went onto threaten other universes until the Watcher put together Guardians of the Multiverse. After great struggle they were victorious against the Infinity Ultron. But then something went very wrong with reality. The new worlds that the Watcher could see were not supposed to exist in even the same Multiverse as the one he watched. Eventually these universes collided at Westview.

Breaches opened across universes, drawing heroes into Westview. Heroes like Superman, the last son of Krypton and the first modern hero of his world. Even heroes from world’s bound by ‘grounded’ laws such as the vigilante Batman were pulled to the town where Wanda Maximoff began her fall from grace. Eventually the breaches welcomed a being dedicated to the utter destruction of reality itself, the Anti-Monitor. He joined with the freed Infinity Ultron and Thanos, the ally of Starlord T’Challa whom revealed that his allegiance to the Ravagers was for his own ends and that he in fact had not given up on his ambitions to restore balance, now across the Multiverse. The energies of the Infinity stones pulled these villains together to create one being, the Infinite Monitor.

The Avengers assembled with heroes from across the Multiverse, but the tide of battle would be turned by one hero. A hero that the Watcher looked at, to see the origin and the way of this hero.

“Sven Reilly, the son of a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, his father Slade Reilly was a gifted investigator and rescue worker. He claimed to have discovered an infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D but was killed, instilling in Sven a distrust of the system that was supposed to protect them. Years would pass and Sven, a young teen would bear witness to the day the Chitauri invaded New York, to the day the Avengers would be born.”

He saw again the moment that Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Iron man, Thor and Hawkeye stood together in a circle as they prepared to fight the Chitauri. But then the Watcher’s vision panned to a scene that was supposed to be beneath his notice.

“Though the Avengers were victorious that day, a great many still died, buildings collapsed, and people called out for help,” the Watcher lowered his head, saddened as he saw Sven screaming, his arm crushed under rubble.

But the boy had his eyes on people taking their last breaths just as more rubble crashed on top of them. He looked up at the last vestige of light shining down on him.

“Please, someone, save them!”

“The Avengers fought a desperate battle, not callous, but still unable to save everyone. Thus Sven would have died in that rubble had something else not come through the portal. A dying entity in need of a spark of life, similar to Sven in need of a hero. Numerous entities, spirits came from the gap between dimensions that the Tesseract opened, possessing numerous individuals across New York. The spirit that possessed Sven reignited his life force, providing S.H.I.E.L.D. with enough time to save him,” the Watcher narrated.

“It’s a robotic arm, my first invention,” a boy with glasses said to Sven when he was in hospital.

The blonde haired boy looked at the simplistic looking arm before the vision shifted to him walking out of the hospital. Explosions rocked several buildings, and a being of fire raged, screaming as it released fire from its hands.

“Seeing once again people in need, the spirit within ignited inside Sven Reilly, awakening the dormant power it provided!”

Sven’s eyes glowed red and blue electricity swept over his body. Grey fabric began to cover his body, forming a suit that slithered up his body like a second skin. His brow and eyes darkened as a helmet folded around his face. Fins slid out of the back of the helmet and a knight’s visor over Sven’s eyes. The young man’s eyes glowed through the darkness of that visor. He gasped in shock as blue electricity spread out of his prosthetic hand, drawing pieces of a fire hydrant to him.

“As well as the armour of a knight, Sven was gifted with an ability to fuse with others, individuals, certain objects and the elements. Through repeated fights and trials he would discover that through partial fusion of the air he could increase his speed, partial fusion with the Earth for strength and durability and that by focusing on his spiritual energy, he could release an optic blast. With these powers he became Aeon, a hero who refused to abandon anyone, even the villains he faced. He would join a private investigation agency and take to the road, a path that down the years and numerous cases he would work, would eventually lead him to Westview and the crisis that…”

“Perhaps you should show rather than tell!”

The Watcher felt the atmosphere (a loose expression as technically there was no air around him) darken. He looked over his shoulder and saw a man, a seemingly human man standing by him. He was dressed in a thick green trench coat and a hood that obscured most of his face. The Watcher however could see a human face, skin that seemed a bit ghostly grey and a rough beard. Even the shape of the man’s body through the coat showed the physique of a fighter.

“Show he who would not allow anyone to die,” the hooded man brought his hand up to one of the cracks.

Previously on...

Aeon grabbed the time stone, green cracks appearing across his armour. He punched the Infinite-Monitor, knocking the two stones out of his hand. Aeon then punched him again, this time, the green energy passed onto the Infinite Monitor. Thanos and Moebius were split apart, the Titan was punched to the ground by the Utopian and the Anti-Monitor snarled at Aeon.

“It is not over, the great darkness is coming, and it will consume everything you love,” Moebius said.

“And we’ll stop it; this is for the Flash, EXCELSIOR!” Aeon roared.

He slammed his fist into the Anti-Monitor, the energy of the time stone surging throughout the entire pocket dimension. The red began to fade, and the green energy surrounded the Anti-Monitor, sending him forward through his destined path. He began to shrink, smaller and smaller, the effects of the Anti-matter becoming benign as he began to disappear into a universe beyond time and space, fading into the prison the heroes of Barry and Sara’s Earth would have banished him to. But it didn’t end there.

“Just once, just once,” Aeon seethed, a piece of his helmet fell off to reveal his eye, shining with the colour of the time stone.

“Wait…what?” even the Watcher widened his eyes.

Blue coils of electricity came out of Aeon’s arm, grabbing the stones one by one. They fused to both his arms, distributing the power through his armour. Despite this though he still collapsed to one knee.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he heard Superman’s voice in his head.

“Sometimes you have to accept the things you can’t change, maybe it is pointless, but you still have to try,” Batman spoke.

He felt the partners in his fusion touch his shoulder. But they weren’t alone, through the power of the speed force that temporarily merged with them; the three heroes were bolstered by additional presences. A dark gloved hand touched Bruce’s shoulder and behind him stood a Batman in dark grey and black, white lenses on his mask, and behind him was a Batman in a simpler blue and grey costume with a bright yellow and black bat, a similar logo used by a Batman in a completely black rubber suit. Superman’s shoulder was touched by another Superman, this one with trunks and a slight curl in his hair, and behind him was a young Superman in a suit similar to the Man of Steel’s but without the arm bands and finally a Superman in a darker blue costume with slicked back hair.

“Do it,” they said together.

“Just this once, EVERYONE GETS TO LIVE!” Aeon yelled before he snapped his fingers.

The heroes looked on in shock, as Aeon's fingers just rubbed together.

"Okay, I never actually worked out how to click my fingers, maybe this will do!" Aeon sheepishly clapped his hands together.

A weak but triumphant smile spread across Barry Allen’s face before the white light consumed all of the heroes.

“Where are you going, we have things we need to discuss,” Wong said.

“I know, but I remembered something,” Stephen said and Wong raised his head, realisation crossing his face before he nodded.

Stephen’s cloak faded into his pocket and his robes turned into a regular blue button up shirt. When Strange walked into the portal he emerged near a familiar lake house. Though he had only been there once, he would always remember where one of Earth’s mightiest heroes was put to rest.

“Boom, boom!” he saw a dark haired girl playing with a pair of red and gold gloves, skipping across the grass in delight. “Take that Thanos!”

“Fool girl,” a voice that was forced to be deep playfully growled.

Stephen gasped, watching a man come out of the bushes, his hair was dishevelled, but he still had the same well styled goatee, the same taste in ACDC t-shirts.

“I am inevitable,” Tony Stark bounded over his daughter, putting his hands to his chest and playing wounded as she made the repulsor sound.

“And I am Iron man,” she said, and then screamed as he picked her up.

“But now Iron man has to face, THE TICKLE MONSTER!” Tony roared, relishing in Morgan’s laughter.

He brought her to the ground, looking up and seeing just the spark from Strange’s portal.

New York

Stephen walked out of an alleyway, walking towards the F.E.A.S.T. centre. He took a cap from the donations pile just in case anyone recognised him. There was no trace of the woman, no sign of her, maybe Stark was unique then. Something though did feel off still, as if the surgeon’s memories were adjusting to a great change beyond who had used the stones that day. He returned the cap and teleported to the cemetery in queens. His memories were coming back, memories of a great failure that had cost someone everything. But again to his surprise Stephen saw that there was a gravestone missing, an open plot where the gravestone of one Ben Parker was.

“Stephen?”

He turned around and looked towards a young man with brown hair. Peter Parker was on his way to visit his uncle when he saw the sorcerer standing there with a confused expression. It was one the New York vigilante shared as he looked at Strange’s red eyes.

“It still feels weird,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“Sorry for what?” Peter asked.

“Peter, does anything feel different in your life?” Stephen asked.

“Hmmm, there is the fact I might actually be on time for dinner with Aunt May, I presume that stuff in Westview is settled, sorry I couldn’t answer the call I was a bit busy on the streets, the big guy’s back in town and I’m pretty sure he’s…oh my…” Peter stopped as Stephen suddenly hugged him. “Wow, this is nice,” he said.

“Yeah Peter, it is nice,” Stephen smiled.

And now the story of the Secret Crisis continues...

The hooded man withdrew his hand, volts of green electricity coming out of it as he looked towards the Watcher.

“Those whom should have died or have been forgotten had their destinies altered, his attempt to bring people back to life however will have consequences,” the man explained.

“Altering the balance often does, still I am confident he will rise to the challenge, once the Avengers have found him, Batman and Superman,” the Watcher said.

“You don’t understand, I can’t explain it to you, like you I am bound by a higher power.”

He removed his hood, revealing a blonde haired man.

“My name was Oliver Queen, until I became something else!”

“The fury of god, the avenging angel, the Spectre,” the Watcher said.

“You have knowledge you shouldn’t, a result of Multiverses being slammed together, but time is not linear, this abuse of the Infinity stones and the energy Aeon absorbed from the Anti-Monitor, may very well be what has created this new Crisis in the first place,” the Spectre explained.

“And what will you do if it is his fault?” the Watcher asked.

Oliver Queen’s eyes, despite no longer being truly human said more than any words could. The Watcher looked down at him in judgement.

“Not even divine power gives you the right to hypocrisy,” he said.

“It is hypocrisy for me to deliver judgement, I once rebuilt the Multiverse and created a world where everyone I lost got to live, my mother, my sister, my best friend, a man who was a father to me. Yet unlike you who is bound by a code of non interference that can be bypassed by exceptions and technicalities, I unwillingly serve a higher power. No matter how much I agree with Aeon, if he has failed this Multiverse then I will do what I must,” Oliver explained.

“I have seen the life you have led Oliver Queen, the Arrow, outlaw of Starling city, Al Sah-Him, heir to the demon, the Green Arrow, protector of Star city, mayor, brother, friend, husband, father, hero, saviour and executioner, you have been many of these things, which was why during your Crisis you were chosen to be the agent of both the Monitor and the presence, but the Spectre is no agent of the one above all, this is not his will, it cannot be his will,” the Watcher whispered.

“It is his will Watcher,” Oliver sighed in defeat, putting his hood over his head to hide his shame.

“If Aeon is the destroyer of worlds, then he must be punished!”

The Spectre’s eyes glowed green as he looked up at the Watcher.

Unbeknownst to the watcher and the Spectre, someone else was looking at the strings of reality. Though it was from a limited perspective, as though he was an ancient being, the man whom was worshipped as a god, a New God of his world still existed in his own universe. His world was one that looked as if it was on the verge of ending, pillars of fire rose up from craters on its surface, screams of the tortured and slaves echoed through the great technological citadel, but there was still the clanging of metal and primitive tools, as if the work was made deliberately difficult. The citadel where the ruler resided, a black fortress of sharp spires was patrolled by grotesque parodies of people, bound by green and gold armour with fly like wings flapping behind them.

“The Armada has stopped per your orders,” a hooded creature walked towards the throne, his rough face clear of any scowl and just an obedient stare, waiting for his ruler to speak.

He got off of his throne, towering over his servant, his skin grey, even rocklike from a certain perspective. His thighs and arms were exposed by the black clothes he wore, with a cowl around his face and boots and gloves that were as hulking in their size as he was. Omega symbols were etched into the forehands of his gloves, revealed as he clenched his hand, capable of crushing a head, into a fist.

“I feel it Desaad, Anti-Life, it has been moved!” the room nearly shook from his voice.

“But how, how is this possible?” Desaad asked.

“It matters not,” Desaad bowed his head as his god turned.

His eyes were burning orange, like pools of magma on his face. Another Omega symbol was used as the buckle for his belt.

“Anti-life is my prize, and no barrier in this universe or any other will keep it from Darkseid!”

Chapter 1: Those who fight in this new world

There was a small mansion in New York, just a place Tony remembered his father having them stay at whenever they were in town. It was passable as a living space, at least by his standards. A portal opened at the front door and the trio of Kate Bishop, Cassie Lang and Kamala Khan walked through, all in full costume and marvelling at the inside of the mansion. Kate Bishop, protégé to the original Hawkeye Clint Barton, wearing her loud purple suit proudly, a change from what she wore that fateful Christmas when she met her hero. Her new purple suit allowed for more flexibility, exposed her knocking arm and had a slit on her other shoulder. She also wore fingerless gloves with archery wrist cuffs, a harness for her quiver and additional utility pouches on her thighs for spare arrow heads.

“Wow,” she tilted her purple shaded glasses, resting them above the bangs of her black hair.

Kamala, the New Jersey Avenger, AKA Ms Marvel was shaking with excitement. Nearly dancing on the toes of her new red and black boots, she too had undergone changes to her costume. A primarily red and black suit, the dominant part though was a modest blue skirt and top befitting her heritage, decorated with gold markings and an elaborate gold S/bolt across her chest. The gold bangle that belonged to her grandmother and had awakened her powers was worn around her wrist, and she wore a red scarf with twin tails.

“Oh wow, Avengers mansion,” Kamala said.

“Oooh good branding there,” Kate said.

“Fantastic branding,” Cassie Lang muttered.

The daughter of Scott Lang, the second Ant-man, she had yet to take a name but had already been on the field with her own suit empowered by Pym particles. Her new design added skirt like flaps not dissimilar to what her ‘grandma’ Janet Van Dyne had used when she was the Wasp. Grey mesh on her sleeves and grey and red armour on her purple top completed the look without her silver helmet with its purple visor.

“It’d say Mighty branding,” Kate added.

“We are not going to be coining that term,” Tony Stark said from the top of the stairs.

The founder of the Avengers and billionaire, genius and philanthropist (he once had playboy on it, but those days were past) was holding a pad, pushing a few buttons and linking to the lab he had set up where the indoor squash court used to be. It was an addition that was of minor cost for him. Across from him, overlooking the young heroes on a balcony was Sam Wilson with his goggles and cowl off, formerly the Falcon and an Air Force Pararescue operative, he had taken on the mantle of Captain America with a white blue and red outfit, though the incident and revelations at Westview had left him without a shield.

The crux of that revelation stood with Monica Rambeau, S.W.O.R.D operative and god daughter of Carol Danvers. She was a first responder when Westview first faced crisis in the form of the grieving Wanda Maximoff. Her reality warping and mind entrapping hex had awakened Monica’s abilities to manipulate spectrums of light. The Crisis at Westview left Carol drained of her abilities when she used all of her energy to recharge the wounded Superman. Monica took on a white, grey and black costume similar to what her aunt Carol wore.

Arthur Caster was a priest, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and once upon a time someone Monica wouldn’t have been against calling dad. He had loved her mother, but he had his secrets, secrets the crisis at Westview revealed, along with even more questions. Cap’s shield shattered, revealing it was not made of vibranium and doubts over the identity of the old man that gave it to Sam. An even more dangerous revelation came when CIA agent Sharon Carter was killed, and revealed to be a white skinned alien.

A white Martian, as revealed by Arthur, who shifted before the eyes of the superheroes into a muscular, green skinned and scaled creature, a Martian. For the sake of trust he kept that form as he walked beside Monica to the balcony overlooking the young avengers.

“Welcome to the summer home Kid Avengers, rest room is across the hall, dining area on the ground floor and the kitchen is in the basement if you get hungry,” Tony explained.

“They aren’t kids Tony, they’re Avengers and they deserve a part in the briefing,” Sam said.

“Briefing, oh are we tracking those white Martian things?” Kamala asked.

“We’ll put a pin in our little secret invasion for now,” Tony said.

“His kid Avengers was insulting, but ‘secret invasion’ that is good,” Kate muttered.

“Before that though, we need to find our lost trio, and I think I know just where to start,” Tony said, creating a hologram on his pad, revealing the computer data that showed two dimensional tears.

A Universe away, somewhere in Delaware

Bruce felt himself falling; he made out a globe of some kind situated on top of a building. Opening the wings of his suit, he was able to slow his fall before he used his grappling hook to swing. The wire slid back to his hand as he landed on a gargoyle, which buckled under his weight. Out of instinct, he fired his grappling hook again, this time his fall stopped. He looked up and saw Aeon, his armour coming apart in pieces, his cybernetic arm dead, hand bleeding from holding the grapple wire. He helped Batman climb up to the top of the building, and then collapsed in the man’s arms.

“Well done,” Bruce complimented him.

He looked at the building across from them. Structurally it was similar to the Daily News building in New York, though it had a gigantic gold globe on the roof with letters that read ‘Daily Planet’. Bruce had been across America during his training, he had studied under escape and martial artists, private mercenaries that specialised in occult cases and the special kind of psychos that even the FBI stayed away from. His time abroad and beyond had led him to places darker than Gotham. Yet still all of that had paled in comparison to what he faced when he pulled into another universe.

It had started off with a murder, many murders, all with similar appearances to the prisoner dubbed ‘the Joker’. Batman had been investigating one such body when he was suddenly brought to Westview by the Flash. Within seconds he had to face monsters, even a darker version of himself called Owlman, as well as Thanos and the Anti-Monitor. In the end it had been a fusion between himself, Aeon and the third member of their party, a man missing from the group.

“Superman,” Bruce muttered.

He helped Aeon into the stairwell and carefully pulled off the young man’s helmet. Ordinarily he would have respected the man’s identity. Bruce wasn’t his father, he only knew enough about medicine to get himself back into the fight and even then Alfred did a lot of the work. Alfred, Bruce wondered what his confidante was doing right now, how Gotham was coping.

Underneath his helmet Aeon was as best a couple of years younger than Bruce, blonde haired, grey eyes that looked up at Bruce weakly.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Aeon said.

Batman turned, giving Sven no clear view of his face. Not that a clear view would have helped, even without his cowl Bruce looked like a far cry from the neat billionaire he had begun to portray at home, rugged chinned, neat brown hair. Underneath the cowl his hair was left wild by sweat and his eyes partly covered by black makeup. He began removing things from the storage compartments on his belt and gauntlets, his cape hid a foldable bag. Picking up on Bruce’s plan, Sven let the armour completely dissolve, exposing his cargo trousers, grey shirt and brown jacket. Bruce removed the pieces of his black carbon fibre armour, the chest plate with the bat symbol made from gun parts. They could be easily folded and hidden in his backpack, along with the cloak. He traded Sven’s jacket for a hoodie, which was ideal for covering Sven’s robotic arm. Until they had an idea of how advanced or ‘grounded’ this Earth was, they needed to try and stay hidden.

Hopefully Superman believed that too.

Same universe, somewhere in New Jersey

Clark decided that something was definitely wrong. Gotham city was way too clean, he walked the streets (in his mild mannered Clark Kent guise of course) and looked at the new universe he was in. The Gotham Gazette date matched the current date, but this Gotham was still very different, it was a lot more majestic, with less gothic spires and more statues of great Grecian figures like Atlas. He listened for a moment and there were no people screaming, no muggings, no assaults, people were even smiling as if they were proud to live there. Clark stopped when he came to a page on the gazette he had purchased.

“Bruce Wayne announces Wayne Enterprise and Luthor-Stark Tech partnership,” even more he began to think something was wrong.

The Bruce was older than his, in fact Flash had once drawn a picture of a Bruce Wayne he had met during his time travel shenanigans and this man was identical. But the headline had been what put Clark off counting on him as an ally. Clark was about to continue reading when he heard something in the far distance, across the bay in Metropolis.

“New heroes huh? Let Livewire be the first to give you a ‘SHOCKINGLY’ good welcome!”

Clark narrowed his eyes, rolling up the newspaper and moving past a few people.

“Excuse me, pardon me,” he said, bumping into a man in an orange coat.

Once he got to the cover of an alleyway, Clark took off his glasses and pulled open his shirt, revealing the red and yellow shield beneath it. Within seconds he pulled off his clothes, unfolded the red cape on his shoulders and flew out of the alleyway in the blue Kryptonian bodysuit he had gained from the ancient ships of his people. His wrists were covered by light blue bands, red boots and his family’s symbol on his chest. Moving through the clouds, releasing a sonic boom as he went supersonic, Clark followed the sounds of battle.

His responsibilities didn’t end at the border of his world.

But he still couldn’t rush into the fight; his battle with Zod had taught him to be more careful. Using his enhanced vision, he cased out the block where the fight was going on. Seven combatants, at least six on the same side and failing badly at team work. Through his X-ray vision Clark then analysed the six new ‘heroes’.

One young blonde haired man in a blue and red suit with a white I on his chest. No physical enhancements, but he was still standing after having his heart stop from an electric blast.

A black girl in a red top and black top with boxing bandages over her knuckles. She was using telekinesis to levitate cars, dangerous considering their opponent utilised electricity.

There seemed to be one person fighting back, a red haired man in a blue suit with scaly orange gloves and goggles. He was throwing energy balls from his hands, and he had very poor aim, creating falling rubble that risked nearby civilians.

Clark dashed through, creating a shockwave that threw the combatants off of their feet. He gently moved two people away from the fight, just enough for them to run themselves. Then he continued his analysis, all of it was taking a few seconds, he wasn’t the Flash but he could still process information fast.

Like the fact that the man in the black and red armour was recording the fight with a camera on his helmet. The armour itself looked like skating pads, but concealed some pretty impressive weapons the man wasn’t utilising, too interesting in getting a good shot.

The most nervous of them was an Asian kid, just barely fitting into his pale blue outfit. Inside his body were a multitude of sickness causing microbes, some were even deadly diseases yet the boy was still standing.

Finally there was the brown haired woman with the squirrel on her shoulder. Even that, along with her striped shirt, shorts and brown jacket would have been considered normal. But beyond the fact that she had a prominent squirrel’s tail and ears, inside the woman had a bone and inner muscle structure that indicated she possessed enhanced agility and strength.

“What…the…hell…do…I even call you?” as Clark slowed down he processed the woman robbing the bank.

She was holding bags, and was good enough with her electricity powers that she didn’t burn them. Fittingly she had electric blue hair and a bolt symbol on her chest, a black top with gloves and shorts. Her voice pattern matched the first voice Clark heard, Livewire.

“Wait a minute, are you recording? Oh are you those freaking New Warriors, I thought you guys had been cancelled,” Livewire said, firing electrical blasts that blew up the cars the telekinetic was holding.

Superman moved quickly, flying in front of the telekinetic woman and acting as a shield from the flames. He blew, redirecting the flames before they could hit the Squirrel girl and the armoured man. The flames struck the concrete wall beside them harmlessly.

“Cancelled like your radio show Willis,” the man throwing the energy balls said, ignoring the near escapes of his team mates.

“At least I got beyond an unaired pilot,” Livewire retorted.

Clark fired two bursts of heat vision just as Livewire charged her electricity. He adjusted the temperature to the point that rather than burn they cut, through the straps she had dangling off of her shoulders. Both money bags fell to the floor as Clark rushed her, grabbing Livewire’s arms and directing her blasts to the sky. Which was where their fight would take place.

“WhaWAAAAGH!” Livewire screamed in surprise as Clark flew upwards.

“Was that the big guy?” Squirrel girl asked.

“I told you, if we responded to enough calls we would eventually get to team up with the man himself,” the man in the armour said.

“You mean save our asses Dwayne,” the telekinetic said.

“Come on Debrii, you know you’re supposed to call me Night thrasher when we’re in the field, Mr Immortal return the cash to the bank, Speedball, Microbe you guys see to the civilians,” the armoured man commanded.

“Can I just say over here, you know in case the fight comes back to us?” the Asian teen asked.

The squirrel on Squirrel Girl’s shoulder let out a few squeaks, earning a stroke on the chin from his owner.

“Tippy-Toe noticed it too, did anyone else notice that Superman looks a bit different?” she asked.

“I mean I only got a view from behind, but even that makes me question my view on men, just a little,” Debrii chuckled.

Above the team however, Livewire held a similar mind set, looking at Clark in shock. She kicked off of him, letting out an electronic discharge that left a bit of smoke on Clark’s chest. He touched the area she had struck, he had only just recovered from another fight, he wasn’t really at full strength yet. Livewire levitated in the air, using her abilities to fly.

“A fan of the big guy huh? I’ve got to say I’m not a fan of the redesign, but you still make it look good,” she said, winking at Clark.

“Did you hurt anyone in the bank?” he asked.

“Just a little light show, someone might have gotten hit by glass, but this was supposed to be an easy job, I’m not responsible for a few reckless do gooders complicating things, but you…you’ve even got the taking the fight elsewhere down, you know your stuff, or is it a lesson from experience about what happens to city’s when people like us go all out,” Livewire said, smirking when she saw Clark grimace.

The atmosphere around her began to change, sparks of electricity crackled in the sky and her eyes and hands glowed. She brought her hands together, forming a ball of lightning that created additional shockwaves in the sky.

“Even if you’re a poor stand in, I can tell you can definitely handle me,” she grinned. “I’VE BEEN WANTING TO GO ALL OUT FOR SO LONG! FULL VOLTAGE BABY!” she yelled.

Clark braced himself, but just as Livewire was about to release her electricity, he heard a puff. Then a blue and red blur struck Livewire, taking her back down into the city. It took Clark a few seconds to process what had happened before he followed. She had been carried to a rooftop, groaning as she was dropped unconscious to the floor. Clark however a few feet away, looking at the man that had defeated the villain within seconds. His costume seemed silly, or at least anyone comparing their suits might have said that. It looked like simple cloth, a darker blue than Clark’s looking thinner on this other man but still emphasising some of the muscle the man had kept in his age. His suit had the addition of red trunks with a yellow belt on them, then there was the house of El symbol, the shield and S were larger and the yellow was brighter. He looked back at Clark revealing the face of a different and older man, but still with dark hair that, unlike Clark’s this Superman had swept back completely.

“I don’t know who you think you are young man,” the older Superman slowly floated up to Clark’s level, his eyes narrowed.

“If you truly want to help then take on your own house’s symbol, or go back to New Krypton, Earth is under my protection!”

Caught off guard, almost in awe of the man’s very presence, Clark finally processed what the man said.

“Wait…New Krypton?”

Interlude: Those who live in this new world

Peter Parker had one of the biggest headaches in his life. He couldn't remember though when exactly this headache began.

"Rent?" it wasn't Mr Ditkovich giving his usual greeting.

"And here's the pitch, 'Forget hall of Justice, caravan of justice' it wasn't listening to Hoffman trying to convince the boss that one of his ideas was a good one.

"GET BACK TO THE OFFICE AND KEEP BRAINSTORMING! MY GRANDSON CAN COME UP WITH SOMETHING BETTER THAN YOU!" it wasn't even Jameson speaking at room volume.

It wasn't even the feeling he had been having lately, that he had been stuck. Not just in the same apartment or the same desk at the Daily Bugle, but stuck in one point of his life completely. It was as if he had gone as far as he could, and the universe itself wanted him to stay put. He looked in the reflection of his computer screen, seeing his glasses, beard, and the aged features of a man in his mid-forties who still had a lot more to do. Peter didn't even feel tired or even sick. There was just a ticking in his head he couldn't shake off, an instinct he couldn't ignore. Not just that something was very wrong with his life, but something was actually endangering it.

"Keeping busy Peter?" he looked up and shyly smiled as the Assistant Editor, Robbie Robertson looked down at him.

"Sorry, don't tell JJ please Robbie," Peter said.

"Hey, we're on break remember?" Robbie winked.

They went down to a coffee shop outside the Bugle building. The veteran newsman sat with his coffee, sandwich and notebook whilst Peter worked on the lens of his camera, occasionally sitting from his own coffee.

"Tough time with the photos?" Robbie asked.

"Not really, just one snap after another," Peter said.

"Peter, I like you I do, but do you like working at the Bugle?" Robbie asked.

"It pays the rent," Peter said.

"Just barely, that isn't a yes or no Peter," Robbie chided him.

"Is this an intervention?" Peter asked.

"It’s an old man whose been through his own midlife crisis asking a friend what he wants to do," Robbie said.

"I don't know Robbie, something different maybe, how did you deal with it?" Peter asked.

"I'm an old man still working underneath the same guy, I love Jameson like a brother, but I feel stuck too Peter, for me its loyalty I guess, and an imminent retirement and pension, so no real point in leaving now," Robbie stated.

He left cash on the table and stood up, finishing his cup.

"Take this one on me Peter, think about what you really want," Robbie said before he walked out of the coffee shop.

Peter lowered his head and sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. His phone vibrated and he looked inside to see a text from Jameson.

'Office now!'

As blunt as he always was, but this time Peter hesitated. Police sirens wailed and he looked outside just as police cars went by. People often wanted to know why the police were in a rush, then they would go back to what they were doing with an 'oh well, at least they're earning our tax dollars'. But the persistent need to know didn't stop and Peter stood up, taking his camera with him and going out of the door. He followed, breaking off into a run and skipping through the alleyways.

"It's over, it's over, the END IS NEAR!" a homeless man yelled as Peter passed.

Peter was huffing and puffing by the time he got close enough to know what the police were responding to. 

A long time ago his uncle had said something to him, something that was important. He couldn't quite remember the words, but the subject itself was something that today's generation of super heroes took for granted, and just abandoned completely.

Broken bricks from a building nearly crashed into Peter, making him have to jump out of the way. He looked up just as another energy blast slammed into the building. There were gun shots too, ricocheted bullets and screams from injured. There was a fight going on between forces that had already decimated some of the gathered police cruisers, chunks of the road had been torn clean off and cars were being used as weapons. A blue aura surrounded some of the vehicles, levitating them off of the ground. The telekinetic force launched a Volvo at its intended target. Peter had read many an article pertaining to the existence of super criminals, the kind faced by the World's Finest.

"Stop it, I wasn't here to fight damn you," the man they were chasing was made of steel, not smooth metal but spikes, some parts that fit the man's nickname of Girder.

He was a super criminal from Central City, no doubt recently transferred to the Cube on Ryker's island. Girder's escape attempt was short lived when faced by the world's premier superhero team, the Elite Battalion.

The cars were being thrown by a man with piercings’ in his ears, dyed purple hair. He wore a black leather coat with a shirt that had the union jack on it. Manchester Black's eyes closed as he hit Girder with a whole bus.

The bus was followed by a grenade that knocked Girder across the pavement. A man in armour walked around Girder, pulling out his duel pistols. They both had eagle symbols carved into them, matching the white symbol on the yellow background on the man's chest plate. His helmet reminded Peter of Boba Fett, he was sure Lucasarts had issues with them (thank god they didn't sell to Disney, Peter thought). Peacemaker even had a jetpack, enabling him to fly around Girder, distracting him long enough for the man in the red and black suit to fire a rocket into Girder's chest.

"Now that's cinema standard collateral damage," the man remarked before looking in a specific direction. "Oh hello there, you must really be scraping the bottom of the archive if you've hit this one, if the author didn't make it clear, it’s me Deadpool, in a team that pays homage to the deadly and ruthless anti-heroes, I'll tell you what's funny about truth justice and the American way, you've replaced the American way with a better tomorrow!"

He pulled out his pistol, spinning it around as he continued talking.

“But let me tell you something about ‘better’, it’s a relative term, what’s better for some…” he aimed at Girder’s eye. “Isn’t always better for others,” he grinned sadistically underneath his mask before pulling the trigger.

The explosive bullet went off, throwing Girder back, making the criminal clutch his eye as blood ran across the floor.

“Oh were you expecting good guy Deadpool? Sorry to disappoint, but there’s a reason my costume looks like Ultimate Deadpool…that’s original Ultimate not the super awesome new Ultimate that actually only has a loose connection to the original…you know what, you don’t care, look just read Ultimate Spider-man, that’s the new Ultimate Spider-man to clarify, two issues in an already it’s better than a year of the current Amazing run…”

“Deadpool!”

The Merc with the mouth turned away from his make believe audience as Girder attempted to punch him. Deadpool slid underneath Girder’s fist, throwing a grenade with Peacemaker and knocking him into the ground. Peter widened his eyes in shock, seeing the two madmen shoot. Girder made it seem as if he had grabbed a child in the crowd, but the way he did so wasn’t for a hostage. He seemed to cradle her, using his body as a shield. There was a crack of thunder and the Elite looked up as their reinforcements and other members arrived.

A sword was dragged across the floor, belonging to a blonde haired woman in a black outfit that had a white X across her chest, on her knees and the knuckles of her gloves. Her right arm was covered in otherworldly armour and her eyes glowed as she smirked at the wounded Girder. Peter recognised her as a mutant, a former new mutant trainee of the X-men.

The second member looked like a monster, a hulking, oily black body with some white veins across the back and chest. It had white eyes and a jaw of snapping razor sharp teeth. Of all the Elite members, Peter always felt the most uneasy when seeing Venom in action, another thing he couldn’t quite explain.

Girder stood to try and face the leader of the battalion.

“Please, I give up, I surrender…” he was cut short by a severe blow to his face.

Peter saw the man’s jaw go loose, a result of the deadly blow delivered by a gold lance. It was held by a muscular man with gold armour encased over his arm, gold armour on his shoulder pads, military style fatigues and boots, and a helmet that had curved horns on it. He looked down at Girder in contempt; one of his eyes had a lightning bolt scar on it.

The leader of the Elite Battalion, former sidekick of Superman, Boy thunder, former Justice League member Thunderman, but now as the founder of the world’s premier team and voted by the public as the ‘new icon of the age’ he went by a name that spread fear across the criminal community, Magog.

Peter took the picture and went back to work, slamming his camera into Jameson’s desk in a way that surprised the man.

“Last photo on the memory card, the fight that took place downtown, that’s what tomorrow’s picture should be when you cover the Elite Battalion,” Peter said.

“The Elite Battalion,” Jameson echoed, his shock replaced with intrigue.

Robbie and Hoffman came into the room, even Jameson’s old secretary Betty, the best reporter at the Bugle came in and all three were shocked by Peter’s behaviour.

“We need to start covering these guys more, more than just a small article in the corner of page six,” he said.

“Actually its page three,” Hoffman said.

“Shut up Hoffman, I thought you usually defended these types,” Jameson said.

“The Fantastic Four, god bless their souls, the X-men, Superman and Batman, the original icons who had principles. Sure they worked against the law sometimes, but they never played judge, jury or executioner,” Peter explained.

“Statistically speaking Pete they did still leave some collateral damage,” Betty said.

“But never with innocent people in the crossfire, last week you did an expose on police brutality, this is like that, Peacemaker, Deadpool, they kill people and make jokes about it, Frank Castle may have been crazy but he never treated death as some sort of stand up routine,” Peter explained.

“Normally I’d agree, but lately they’ve been getting…special treatment from our own government,” Jameson hummed.

His silence would have seemed uncharacteristic. But he yelled all the time, he was quiet when it came to the issues that truly ticked him off.

“There are complaints about the collateral damage and the risk to the public, but their over sea operations and the fact that the criminals they apprehend don’t escape is popular in the polls,” Hoffman said.

“The criminals don’t escape because they up in hospitals rather than jail cells, sometimes the DA isn’t able to prosecute because of it, they hit the city with an excessive force charge and there is still that grey line on whether the Battalion is a government sanctioned team or not,” Robbie explained.

“Shouldn’t we the media do something about that, the Battalion has all this power but it’s like they have none of the…” Peter paused, putting a hand to his head as his vision blurred.

“Are you okay Peter?” Betty asked

“None of the, the responsibility,” Peter stumbled slightly.

“All right, that’s it, go home Parker, I’ll have Mattie print the photos, get some rest and then come back in tomorrow, if we’re really going to do this I’ll need you to go to freak central in Metropolis,” Jameson explained.

“Okay boss, okay,” Peter muttered, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want a lift Peter?” Betty asked.

“No, I’m fine thank you, don’t worry about me,” Peter said.

He made his way out of the office, his vision still blurring as he crossed the street. There was a buzzing in his head, an extremely loud buzzing as if he had to…

HONK!

“HEY ASSHOLE MOVE!” a car screeched, coming to a halt in front of Peter.

Peter muttered an apology before running across the road.

“You gotta look both ways before you cross the street kid,” an old man in glasses said to Peter as he passed him. “Always on the move!” he shook his head and continued on.

Peter felt his heart pounding against his ribs. He walked into an alleyway, breathing heavily and trying to see through the blur. Peter leant against the wall, closed his eyes and began to calm his breathing.

“You’re changing, I know, I went through exactly the same thing at your age.”

“What’s your name Kid?”

“These are the years when a man changes into the man he’s going to be for the rest of his life.”

“I miss the part where that’s my problem…”

“Just be careful who you change into!”

“Thanks!”

“Remember, with great power comes…”

Peter let out a yell of frustration, pulling his hand away from the wall. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out the form of a brick on his hand. The thing was, he wasn’t actually holding the brick, it was just stuck to his hand. He grabbed it with his other hand and tried to tug it away, once, twice, three more times with great difficulty before he put all of his strength into it. The brick shattered to pieces and Peter stepped away from it in shock. He took off his glasses, further astonished when his eyes came into focus, they were clearer than they had ever been.

“With great power…” he found himself whispering. “Comes great responsibility,” he looked at his hands and then the wall.

There was no one out there, whatever was going on in the alleyway was of no interest to the rest of New York. Peter placed his hands on the wall, awkwardly at first until he began to ‘feel’ the proper way to do it. One hand, then another, then his legs, knees closer to the wall, the sides before moving to the tips and using them in conjunction with his hands. He didn’t have to climb the wall, just crawl across it. Peter stopped and looked down, he was halfway up the building, a drop that would do some serious damage if he fell.

He had sudden Déjà vu, an urge to cheer out in joy at how amazing this was. But then he remembered the tingling in his head.

There was still something very, very wrong!

Next Chapter 2: What we hope to be

Chapter Text

Avengers X Justice League: Kingdom Come

Chapter 2: What we hope to be

Sven needed an aspirin, or a long rest, he read the paper and saw cities he had never heard of, Coast, Central, Fawcett, not to mention Gotham and Metropolis. The city of tomorrow had a very Delaware look to it, mixed with some New York and those thirty year old pulp magazines that told you what the future would be like. Batman didn’t seem fazed, then again he was currently trending the sunglasses as a disguise look very well. They went into a restaurant that only made Sven’s head spin more.

“Greetings citizens, welcome to planet Krypton,” a thick set man with long brown hair said, he was wearing white gloves, a plastic ring, green domino mask and a black and green costume with a lantern like symbol on his chest.

“Table for two please, window seat if possible,” Batman said.

“Sure thing, I’ll set you near the Zeta beam pad, your waitress Robin will be with you shortly,” the greeter said.

The whole place was filled with people in costumes, costume shop and homemade quality style costumes. Sven’s knees ached as he sat at the table they were given, looking over the menu and the ridiculous names they had. It was almost as bad as Ben and Jerry’s line of Avenger flavours.

“Hello I’m Carrie…I mean, I’m Robin folks,” their waitress came over dressed in green pixie boots, shorts and a red and green tunic with an R on the breast.

Bruce raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the costume before looking at the menu.

“Today’s special is the Power Girl Chicken Sandwich,” the red haired girl said.

“The cut?” Bruce asked.

“Breast, I also recommend the dial H for Hoagie…”

“A sugar free soda for me please,” Sven said.

“Coffee, black and no sugar, Steak well done,” Bruce said.

“Which one, the Man of beef…”

“Steak well done, and stick around for my friend’s order!”

“Very well, I’ll have them get started on your steak,” the girl said, walking away and shaking her head at the abrupt ‘ass’ of a client.

“You should eat something, get back your strength,” Bruce said.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Sven asked.

“We are, we’re recovering our strength through food and drink, and finding more information,” Bruce gestured to the paper.

Sven looked down at the paper belonging to the Daily Planet. The front page headline was ‘The ‘Con’-quest for peace!’

“Latverian delegates met with the UN today, announcing the closure of its borders following Wakanda’s withdrawal of humanitarian aid. Formerly a monarch ruled government, last year Latveria had its first democratic election following the Elite Battalion, then known as the Justice Brigade’s intervention in the country that saw the former ruler overthrown,” Sven read. “Super heroes carrying out military strikes on foreign soil, that’s everything Cap feared from the accords,” he remarked.

“I have no idea who or what,” Bruce said.

“Sorry,” Sven sheepishly chuckled. “Basically on my world, the Avengers broke down after one of its founders Iron man supported the government registering super powered individuals, it would have made them military personnel subject to the rules and command of a council.”

“Bureaucrats that basically decided when the Avengers should help someone, who was worth saving, or who the ‘bad guys’ were,” Bruce said.

“Exactly, that possibility was what led to Cap, Captain America, not the guy with the wings you saw but the real…I mean, the original Captain America,” Sven explained.

“You don’t approve of his successor?” Bruce asked.

“I do, Sam Wilson is a great man, he was at Cap’s side, he didn’t blindly trust the government and he’s a man of compassion too, he understands the responsibility the government has and knows how they haven’t lived up to that responsibility. When everyone else was calling a group of people terrorists, he saw the legitimacy of their complaints,” Sven explained.

“Did these 'not terrorists' kill people?” Bruce asked.

“Yes…yeah it kind of is difficult not to call them terrorists. Captain America shouldn’t just be a mouth piece for the government, nor should he be some representation of some sort of ‘traditional’ view of what it means to be ‘American’ both Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson embodied the kind of person Captain America needs to be,” Sven explained.

“But only one of them really is Captain America, at least from your point of view,” Bruce said.

“Which I’m not saying is right, everybody has their own point of view, heck some (a small minority) probably think Iron man was in the right. And I’m not saying Mr Wilson isn’t a good Captain America, he deserves to be Captain America, he honours the legacy, but he has his own identity, his own legacy when I look at him I always see the Falcon, flying high with his ideals and…” Sven put a hand to his chin, blushing in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I was thinking I could say something inspiring.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Bruce said, taking the newspaper and turning the page.

Sven rested his hands on the table, looking out at the window. He wasn’t sweating as much as before and his heart was a bit calmer.

“I think I might try this Power Girl Chicken Sandwich,” he said.

“Then we’ll need to get to work.”

Earth 1

Calvin Swanwick had to bury a friend; he had been to too many funerals and not just as a member of the United States military or its government body. Last year he retired from government service and went off the grid, taking his military pension and living a modest life as a private investigator in a way that didn’t earn a certain woman’s attention. Even though he was attending the funeral of someone who worked for her.

Suffice to say Amanda Waller wasn’t the type of woman to attend funerals.

Her daughter, Leota Adebayo was crying for a man who only had a small group of people attending his funeral. There was no gun salute for Clemson Murn, whose military experience was dedicated to whoever paid the most. Christopher Smith clumsily threw dirt on the grave, his face a stoic mask of numerous conflicting emotions. Adrian Chase patted his friend on the back, a few too many times, leading to Smith batting his hand away. Emilia Harcourt held her expression with the practiced discipline she had gained from years of service, yet for the briefest moment she allowed herself to feel something for the absence of someone she had come to respect, and one of the few people she had let herself begun to call friend. John Economos was stern, sad, but more so for where he was than who he had lost.

So many emotions, and Calvin had to process them all. For years he had processed grief, fear, and the final moments of death, he had to kill a part of himself to keep himself from breaking down as Zod and Superman’s battle resulted in hundreds of innocents dying.

He and Clemson Murn shared something in common, they were both aliens, both outsiders of their world.

People said America was built by immigrants, that any person in America could trace their ancestry to outside of the nation. It was actually true for a lot of places, but it had a new context in America. Superman was not the only alien refugee to grow up in America. The alien species that the humans simplified as ‘Butterflys’ were one, but there were others.

“Calvin Swanwick,” he looked towards the man known as Peacemaker.

An assassin, vigilante, a victim of his father’s abusive method of raising his children, wise in his own way and far from a dullard who had a lot of growing up still to do despite his age by human standards.

“How did you know Murn?” he was smart enough to be suspicious of him at least.

“We both simply wanted to live in this world, the difference is that when people invaded it, he did everything in his power to protect it, I didn’t,” Swanwick said.

“What are you talking about?” Adrian Chase asked.

The Vigilante, who called himself Vigilante, a murderer, a friend, a generally sweet and well meaning man despite these things. Calvin sighed, he walked away and the people who went to Murn’s funeral were left wondering what had happened.

Because they had lost the memory of ever seeing Calvin Swanwick at their team mates funeral.

Calvin hated manipulating the mind, it was an invasion in itself, to take a person’s memories and edit them. But he had only really recently begun to do it, before hand he had just put up with the thoughts of human kind. Every person on the street who suppressed something to say about Calvin’s skin colour, or about his job, or his proximity to Superman. They were things he had begun to expect and accept long before he came to Earth. As soon as he left the funeral, Calvin walked into an alleyway, dropping change for the homeless.

“End is nigh, end is nigh,” one of the men said.

He looked over his shoulder, detecting broken thoughts within the man. Then he felt a psychic shockwave, a great tremor he had felt once before coming from Corto Maltese.

Calvin Swanwick transformed, his eyes glowing red as his human body was replaced by a muscular green humanoid. A red X formed over his chest, dark trousers and blue boots over his legs. His flesh even became the blue cloak that hung off of his shoulders. People looked up in the sky expecting to see Superman, but he had been missing for a few days. Calvin Swanwick was the man the last son of Mars chose to become when he was ripped from his lifeless home world by human experiments.

His true name was J’onn J’onnzz, and he was on the hunt.

Though his hearing and visual processing abilities were comparable to Superman’s, it was his telepathy that he focused on. Honing in on a psychic signal, increasing his flight speed to Mach 7 and moving from one side of the country to the next, J’onn relentlessly moved to save those he could. Corto Maltese had been over before the League could come together, hundreds of people, innocent people dead. Today there were two lives at stake. Clemson Murn was an evil man; the butterfly who possessed his body had committed in a sense a violation that J’onn could not condone, even if he understood such a thing was necessary for ones survival. Starro the Conqueror was a similar kind of creature, but his ability to possess other creatures was not as fatal as it should have been. Amanda Waller and the Thinker’s experiments altered Starro. History sadly repeated itself in Roswell New Mexico with the offspring of Starro.

One individual star fish was able to survive the progenitor’s death. The A.R.G.U.S. clean up crew recovered what would be nicknamed Jarro and brought the small creature directly into the states. But as expected, things began to go wrong. Waller called in her new suicide Squad.

New old Suicide Squad more like, Floyd Lawton looked through the scope of his rifle, following the path of the scientist that Jarro had latched onto.

“He’s coming your way Katana,” Deadshot said.

Katana silently unsheathed her blade, waiting for the target Waller had given her to come to her. One slice to split open the head of Jarro and the scientist it had possessed.

“Katana, the target went right past you, focus,” Waller’s voice came through on her radio.

She blinked in confusion, the ghost like figure that invaded her mind phased back into the wall behind her. Jarro had his host run for the gate, nearly there, reaching out with his hands and preparing to jump. He came to a stop however as a gigantic, scaly figure slammed into the ground in front of him. Killer Croc had further mutated after the Squad’s first mission, he was far more muscular and armoured than he was before, more animal than man than he had ever been. Waylon Jones felt that maybe now the possibility of him being Waller’s answer to Aquaman was more realistic now.

J’onn scoffed however; the possibility was still too far out there.

As Croc moved to snatch Jarro, J’onn phased through the floor, returning to normal just as he slammed his fist into Croc’s jaw, snapping his mouth shut and sending him flying back into the walls of the facility.

“What the hell,” Jarro muttered, shuffling back away from J’onn.

As crass as Peacemaker was, he’d been right about criticising the League. Corto Maltesse, Kahndaq, Palmera City and twice in Philadelphia disaster had occurred that required heroes. Shazam and Blue Beetle rose to the challenge, but the League had been lax in their interventions. More importantly, J’onn had been lax in his.

‘Never again,’ he thought.

He would save people, he would be the hero that…

BLAM!

J’onn’s head blew up in a shower of blood, some of which coated Jarro.

“Target down, what the hell was that Waller?” Deadshot asked.

“Don’t worry about it Lawton, just take the shot, kill Wallis and then recover Jarro,” Waller commanded.

Deadshot looked down the sight of his rifle, aiming for the heart of Jarro’s host. He was just about to squeeze it when he noticed that the Martian’s body was gone. Lawton froze, his muscles completely stopped moving and his eyes went wide, he had stopped breathing for a few seconds.

“He, not it!” he heard a voice in his head and felt his brain rattle.

Like a ghost J’onn came out of the floor, appearing before Deadshot with glowing red eyes.

“I am Mar’s last survivor Floyd Lawton, there is a reason for that!” J’onn spoke directly into the assassin’s mind, reminding him of the significant difference between them.

A slap across the face was enough to shatter Lawton’s scope and his pride. It also sent the message to Waller, he was here and he would be watching from now on.

For Jarro though J’onn was far more delicate. The host, a greedy and prideful scientist was still alive, but fearful for his life. A life Jarro would spare, J’onn gently touched the star Fish’s eyes, coaxing it into letting go of its human host and wrapping around J’onn’s face.

“It’s all right, you’re going to be all right,” J’onn spoke to the creature.

“I don’t like it there, they do bad things to me, people are screaming,” Jarro said.

“I am here now,” J’onn said.

He showed Jarro just enough about the good of humanity, the neighbours in his apartment complex, the friends he would meet in the park and have coffee with and they would get a packet of cookies just for him. Cartoons, birthday parties, children playing and heroes like Superman.

“Like you?” Jarro asked, curiously, innocently.

J’onn cradled Jarro in his arms, moving through the facility. When people said they kept aliens in Roswell they were right in both ways. The test subjects for Waller’s new project starfish were going to be immigrants going across the border. J’onn destroyed their prison, guiding them as the Martian Manhunter, but appearing to the guard as what they feared the most. General Zod, Bobbo the clown, a giant spider, Amanda Waller or the ex-wife, some telepathic prodding did to the rest to amplify their fear so they wouldn’t interfere, making physical harm unnecessary.

As Calvin Swanwick he called in a favour with Carrie Ferris, now a Lieutenant Colonel, she could call in some support, remind people in high places that even Waller needed to be accountable. J’onn stayed so that the victims would know they were not alone. He saw families reunited, father’s embracing daughters.

“What were their names?” Jarro asked him.

J’onn flew upwards, he had a friend in Gotham he needed to see about Jarro’s living arrangements.

New Earth

Two Supermen looked one another in the eyes, analysing each other with their X-ray vision. It was a moment of doubt for the older Superman when he detected no lie in the younger Man of Steel’s heart.

“New Krypton?” Clark muttered in doubt.

“Unless you’re another failed clone of Lex’s creation,” Superman said.

“Lex, as in Lex Luthor, how many times has he tried to kill you Clark, and Lois too?” Clark asked.

The older Superman narrowed his eyes at the man of Steel.

“I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but I’m not Clark Kent and as amazing of a reporter Lois is, she has nothing to do with my fight against Lex. Are you with the New Warriors, if so I have to insist that you desist immediately, you’re going to get someone killed with your antics and you’re going to do it wearing that symbol,” he explained.

He hovered towards Clark, a subtle glow in his eyes indicating the temperature around it was rising, his heat vision ready to be unleashed. The younger Clark flew back slightly, putting a hand to his chest.

“This symbol, the coat of arms of our family the House of El and the symbol of hope on Krypton, people think it’s an S here right? But it’s actually the flow of a river,” he explained.

Superman stopped, the temperature around his eyes went down and he hesitated, looking at the different design and the certainty of his supposed counterparts words.

“Not many people who aren’t from Krypton would know that,” he said.

The Justice Leaguer looked at the floor and the sky, his eyes and ears out for anyone, drone or person that might pick up their conversation. He found nothing, landing on the floor and taking a few diplomatic steps closer to the older Superman.

“Our father Jor-El served on the council of elders, he was the greatest scientist on Krypton but even he was ignored when he told them that the planet was dying, he and our mother Lara sent me to this planet, where I was taken in by Martha and Jonathon Kent, farmers from Smallville Kansas, we’re their son Clark,” the man of Steel explained.

“Who are you really?” Clark asked, more in concern than anger or suspicion this time.

“I’m you, but not the you of this universe,” he said.

Elsewhere in Metropolis

So far Sven and Batman had had a fairly decent meal, though the service was better, and gotten a grasp on the world. ‘Planet Krypton’ provided its own miniature history on the super heroes of the world.

“Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, a Batgirl, are their Spider-boys and Miss America’s here?” Sven asked sceptically.

“Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash and my counterpart came together in the early 2000s to form the Justice league, they protected the world many times, even bringing in a generation of new heroes,” Batman explained, looking at the cardboard cut outs of Superman and a boy in a purple and green costume.

“Kid Thunder, sidekick of Superman, rumoured to be his adopted son, first recruit of the Justice League,” Sven read.

“Getting kids into this life, it seems incredibly irresponsible,” Batman shook his head.

“It is irresponsible, but one cannot face injustice alone!”

Bruce heard the voice and for a moment he thought he was someone in a laughably simple version of his suit that was blue and grey. Again he shook his head, the moment going unnoticed by Sven.

“I got into this when I was young, the Spider-man of my world is pretty young and he was practically drafted into the fight by Iron man, it’s these New Warriors that concern me,” Sven gestured over his shoulder and Bruce looked to see someone looking at a video on their phone.

‘Epic fail, They killed Kenny again,’ Bruce read the title as a man in a red and blue suit got gunned down, only to get back up again.

“What I’m concerned about is the Elite, the top heroes,” Bruce said, turning the pages of their paper.

Sven looked at a picture in surprise, the members of the Justice League Successor team the Elite Battalion.

“The Elite Battalion was welcomed by cheers, overpowering the pain of their victims. John Corben maybe more machine than man, but he has been left in a critical condition, unable to be properly tried for his crimes. He is just one of many people that the Elite hospitalise rather than apprehend, lucky when compared to those lost in their armed interventions in other sovereign states. After defeating Metallo they teleported across the world and burned a forest that Pamela Isley, AKA Poison Ivy had taken shelter in, the fire itself spreading to the nearby Alan town,” Sven read.

“Article written by Karen Kent,” Bruce finished. “A team that causes either too much collateral damage or deliberate damage,” he mused.

“You sound like you agree they should be put in check,” Sven muttered.

“Contingencies, that is what the world should have,” Bruce heard another voice in his head.

“They can be trusted to use their powers to protect the world, but even they can fall victim to corruption, or mind control, becoming a danger to themselves as much as anyone else,” the same voice but in a different tone stated.

“Are you okay? Maybe we should get a hotel somewhere, when was the last time you slept?” Sven asked.

“A few hours ago,” Bruce said.

“Micro-sleep, but you are getting the times wrong,” the harsher version of the voice said.

“Crime fighters should get plenty of rest,” the brighter voice said.

Bruce rubbed his tired eyes, seeing in front of him the Batman in the blue and grey suit, the Batman with a yellow and black symbol, the Batman in grey and black and the Batman in black armoured plates.

“You need to focus on the task at hand,” he said in a croaky voice, making the other Batmen look at him.

“He’s certainly dedicated, puts more effort into the voice than even you do,” the brighter blue Batman said to a Batman with a darker blue cowl that had white lenses on the mask.

“Why are you talking like that?” the Batman in black and grey asked.

“This is the voice I use,” the Dark knight said.

“Why bother when he’ll have figured out who you are?”

“I’m Batman!”

“Stop it!”

“Hey, are you okay?” Sven asked as Bruce sat at one of the tables.

“I’m fine, we should get going,” Bruce said.

He shook the voices and visions away, focusing instead on his current predicament.

Earth 1

Bruce focused on the star fish shaped alien, Starro had been a great regret of Clarks, just like the Butterfly infiltration. It wasn’t so much Peacemaker calling them ‘Dickheads’, the heroes had thicker skin than that. What they hated was being too late, even in private Bruce spent time looking at the ruined costume of his adopted son, remembering the failure that pushed him into breaking his code. He was trying to be better, to be the Batman that started, the Batman who doesn’t kill, the real Batman.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” J’onn said.

“I won’t waste your trust, and with Superman missing I’m thinking we’ll need help more than ever,” Bruce turned to his guest.

Alfred had taken it in stride, like the soldier he was he casually asked the muscular Martian what he wanted to drink. Then he brought a pot of tea and a packet of Oreo biscuits. J’onn hummed as he ate one of the cookies.

“What’s on your mind?” the Martian asked.

“You could just read it,” Bruce said.

“I only do that if I have to,” J’onn retorted.

“Starro, the Butterflies, Kord’s actions, the incidents in Philadelphia, Arthur’s fight on the poles and Kahndaq, it’s all things we should have been involved in but weren’t,” Bruce explained.

“My thoughts exactly, and I imagine we aren’t alone in that thinking either,” J’onn said.

“No we aren’t, but one of our own is missing, which for all we know could be the start of something big. People are going to take Superman’s absence as a challenge, which means we need to come together again, not just the ones that stopped Steppenwolf, but others too,” Bruce explained.

He walked away from Jarro, to a container he rotated to reveal his bat suit.

“Less armour this time?” J’onn asked.

“The one I used to chase Falcone’s kid was a prototype, the plates are woven into the fabric now,” Bruce said.

“An odd colour, from black to blue,” J’onn said.

“I told myself I would bring people hope not just fear, my tactics are what’ll bring the latter to criminals,” Bruce summarised before he looked to J’onn.

The Martian raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh yes, I’ll give you a moment,” he flew up and passed through the ceiling, leaving the Batman to change.

New Earth

Clark knew that his older counterpart was watching his heart beat, listening to it too. Bruce always said he could be a human lie detector if he didn’t have so much faith in people. Lois assured him Lex’s bomb at Washington wasn’t his fault, regardless of whether he was looking for it or not. Clark knew he could do more, but he also knew there had to be a limit, he couldn’t constantly invade people’s privacy, he believed in and respected the law even if he didn’t operate with the government’s permission. It was why he never interfered with military operations; he wasn’t against the government even if he wasn’t always for it. His older self nodded as he spoke, recounting the highlights of his story.

Being on his Earth, seeing the portal to another world and hearing the cry for help. Clark had gone through to Westview and ended up fighting not just the twisted fusion of the Flash and his lover, but travelling across the Multiverse in an attempt to save him, before finally defeating the fusion of the Anti-Monitor and Thanos. What he didn’t mention, at least yet was Batman and Aeon, those he had fused with to defeat the ‘Infinite-Monitor’. This Clark was older and at least on the surface embodied what Clark hoped to be, but as a reporter he knew he needed to get all of the facts first before he wrote out the full article.

“It’s an amazing story, if you were to subject yourself to Diana’s Lasso it might tell the truth too, but even the insane can tell the truth,” the older Superman said.

“You don’t believe me?” Clark asked.

“I know the Multiverse exists, Lois Lane even worked with HG Wells to navigate another universe,” Superman said.

“As in Harrison Wells?”

“As in the HG Wells!”

“But you’re still sceptical?”

“I’ve met a doppelganger before, emphasis on doppelganger.”

“Counterparts aren’t always identical, from what my Flash told me there can even be significant physical differences between two counterparts, I even met a Superman who was a different man in a physical sense,” Clark stated and again his older self nodded sceptically.

“I’m not going to say you’re completely wrong, but I would need to confirm this,” Superman flew slightly higher, waiting for Clark to follow.

Both though heard sounds in the distance, gunfire and sirens, followed by screams. Superman widened his eyes for a moment as his younger ‘counterpart’ flew off, moving as a red and blue blur. He followed, flying down the street and looking ahead with his vision. There was activity at the bank, a job being undertaken.

“Surrender Manheim,” he heard Turpin say.

“SCREW YOU!” Bruno Manheim, member of Intergang.

Superman heard the laser blast, then the explosion of the car. Fortunately, ‘Clark’ had gotten there first, moving Turpin and his partner Sawyer out of the way, avoiding the flames from their car. He quickly came around, rocketing towards Manheim and his gang. They were in suits of bulky armour, using weaponry that definitely wasn’t human, retrofitted to their armour. Superman moved in, using his heat vision to melt the mechanism on one of the thug’s legs, stopping him from moving. His younger self was more brutish, taking one of the thugs up high and then bringing him back down with a throwing that was barely restrained.

‘He seems more thug than super hero,’ Superman thought, blowing one of the thugs back.

Hearing the thrum of a blaster behind him, Superman was suddenly in front of the man, bending the barrel of his weapon. Then he tore open the man’s armour and flicked the man’s forehead, a soft blow to knock him unconscious. He shook his head in disapproval when the ‘man of steel’ punched one of the last thugs into the pavement, damaging the armour and no doubt giving the man inside a concussion.

The last son of Krypton, husband of Lois Lane, was no stranger to violence, nor did he balk at it. What he did balk at was the idea that there some version of him that spent more time beating people up than saving people.

“Come on you piece of junk, you’re supposed to follow my damn commands,” Manheim cursed, tapping the cube shaped object he was holding.

“It looks alien,” Clark said, zipping behind Manheim.

“Got another damn sidekick Superman?” Manheim demanded.

The Intergang leader turned, but Clark crushed his rifle. He was about to punch Manheim when the man was suddenly pulled away from Clark. Both Supermen widened their eyes as they saw the group that Clark’s allies had been studying. Manheim grimaced, feeling the armour he was wearing constrict over his limbs, threatening to twist them. The telekinetic pressure was being applied by Manchester.

“Go and rest old man,” Magog said, the tip of his staff glowing. “We’ll take it from here!”

Earth 1

“Slow down, you’re pushing the afterburners too much.”

Another day at the office, for him, the office was a narrow space, the open air around him and twin flames propelling his metal coffin forward. G-forces didn’t bother him anymore, and it had come to the point when even the tightest turns were easier to do at speed. His hand remained still as the control stick shook from the velocity of the aircraft’s flight. The brown haired man smirked underneath his oxygen mask, imagining the gasps and groans from flight HQ as he dived the jet into what he called a ‘Kessal run’ through the canyon.

“Damn it Hal,” his boss Carol shook her head, dragging violet painted nails through her dark hair.

“Your investors wanted to know if they could make a jet as fast as Superman, well here’s your answer, only if you’ve got the right pilot,” Hal Jordan said.

“I am so sorry General,” Carol said.

“I’m familiar with air jockeys Miss Ferris, we were hoping for a speed that didn’t involve pushing the craft and the perception abilities of its pilot,” the tall, balding man sternly looked over the data rather than the behaviour of the test pilot.

Though an airfield, the contract with Ferris air had been organised through the US Military, a ‘cloak and dagger’ type agency known only as Cadmus. Carol only knew that much of Cadmus’s money came from the assets seized when Lex Luthor was arrested. In other words, if Ferris air could provide Cadmus with better gear, they’d get a piece of Luthor’s pie, and despite being a very disgusting pie, it was as big as the on the Wayne foundation had baked.

‘Now I’m hungry,’ Carol thought, considering for a moment a place to eat tonight with her least favourite employee.

Hal reduced the speed, letting his heart rate calm down, letting the engine cool. Just a few seconds to give it time, not push too much, for his brother James, for his niece and nephew, his cousin (also Hal) and their reassurance. Then he pushed the engine again, the speed climbing up, the rocks passing by him faster and faster, the jet creaking more. He pushed the afterburners and the very integrity of the aircraft itself, for his brother Jack and his self-righteous lectures, for his cousin Larry (cousin Hal’s father) lost during the battle with Zod, for his father and the reminder that it wasn’t Martin Jordan’s piloting that killed him. For a moment the estrangement from Jack, the trauma of their father’s accident all faded away, then in a flash of green Hal returned to reality, feeling his heart pounding.

He didn’t stop, he kept pushing, raising the jet above the canyon and seeing, as impossible as it seemed, someone running beside the jet. Then again, the man running could certainly be described as the impossible. And he wasn’t so much as sprinting to keep up with the jet, in fact it didn’t seem to be a struggle for him at all, since he was running backwards and yawning. Gold boots made the briefest contact with the ground, showing that the red clad speedster wasn’t using his longest strides. The helmet/cowl over his face had gold bolts on the side of it, matching the yellow lightning bolt on the white circle on his chest.

Barry Allen, AKA the Flash raised two of his fingers into a salute and then left a dust cloud behind him, not noticing the one finger Hal put up as a retort.

When Hal finally landed, he removed his helmet and mask, revealing the short brown beard and smile that had charmed a few ladies in Coast City. He changed out of his flight suit, putting on his father’s classic WW2 style bomber jacket, smiling even as his boss broke regulations and came into the men’s locker room.

“So, do we have the contract in the bag?” he asked.

“Just barely,” Carol said.

“I’m sure you employed some great negotiation techniques passed on by your old man,” Hal said.

Carol frowned at him, both their parents was a sore subject that he didn’t hesitate to bring up.

“Grow up Hal,” she said like a school yard friend, punching his arm.

“Abuse in the workplace,” Hal retorted.

“You really are an arse,” Carol said.

“I mean it is the best part of me,” he grinned.

Carol looked him over, smiling for a moment before shaking her head.

“Keep it in your pants Jordan, at least buy me dinner first,” she said.

“Is that a requirement? I wish we knew that before hand…” Hal winced as Carol punched his arm again. “Okay, okay, maybe when I get back,” he said.

“Get back, Hal,” Carol seethed in frustration. “You take more sick leave, more personal days than anyone else in the company, I can’t make any more excuses for you, whatever it is that’s going on you need to make a choice between us or that,” Carol explained.

“Us?” Hal raised his eyebrows and smirked.

“This isn’t something to laugh about Hal,” Carol said.

She turned and walked out of the locker room without another disappointing word spoke. Hal shook his head, chiding himself, cursing the others in a way too. Not everyone could be a work from home artist, or an architect, or…whatever the hell Gardener did when it was his turn to be on Earth. Once he was in a safe place on the airfield, Hal looked at the ring on his finger. People knew he wore a ring, but they often focus on the specific details of it. Even if they were looking right at it, it would be hidden. Until Hal focused on his will, on his other job, not his name, as it was one shared by thousands of beings across the universe. A green light shined out of the ring, enveloping Hal. Green and black fabric seemed to surround and replace his clothes, forming a suit around him. White gloves appeared over his arms, the green fabric on his chest created a uniform with a V shaped collar, the smooth edges resembling pads underneath a fabric suit. A lantern symbol glowed on the white circle on Hal’s chest, then a domino mask appeared over his eyes.

Within seconds, Hal Jordan flew away from Ferris airfield, resuming his duties as the Green Lantern of Sector 2814. Surrounded by a green field his ring generated, he hovered over the desert, meeting along the way Barry Allen.

“Sorry to disturb you like this, but I think we might have an update on the big guy, we could use some help plus it’ll be a chance for you to actually meet everyone,” the Flash explained.

“You know what they say about never meeting your heroes Barry, please tell me I’m not the only new guy,” Hal said.

Star Labs-Same Earth

First and foremost Ryan Choi was a scientist, despite what he knew some of his fellows called him. Put in charge of the nano-tech division after the passing of Sylas Stone, Ryan had heard some of the staff call him clown, unprofessional, even unreliable. But they never didn’t call him a genius, which always made Ryan smile, but for very small moments Ryan could cut loose and let the mask drop, because he was for brief moments very small. The appearances of atoms were very different from the perspective of a picture drawn in a book. They were everywhere and through the dwarf-star suit Ryan wore he was able to study them in ways no human could.

His teacher Ray Palmer had long theorised the existence of a subatomic universe. That universe itself was, theoretically capable of supporting life. Like ants or insects, the life was simply smaller; ergo the development of that life was stunted in a way. Ryan looked over these ‘bodies’, these ‘life forms’ floating within atomic particles. They were coordinating and communicating, the most basic, animal form of intelligence and community. There was a click through Ryan’s communicator, a signal for him to come back, but for a moment he considered shrinking, going smaller, seeing what was underneath the underneath, the world hidden because of the grand world above it. Physics accepted the idea of multiple dimensions of mass, so it too was open to multiple dimensions of existence. Ryan had to correct so many people that, no, it did not mean they accepted the existence of heaven and hell. Ray used to get particularly passionate about the disconnect between science and religion.

Again Ryan considered shrinking, because secondly Ryan was on a rescue mission. A mission that could wait it seemed, as he was needed elsewhere. He traversed the atomic particles again, going from his well kept lab to the Star Lab computer systems. Within moments he was not his mind’s perspective of the digital world, but Victor Stone’s perspective. Once upon a time the son of Silas Stone would be in his football jersey, fully human. But since Steppenwolf and the League, Victor embraced what he was, Cyborg.

“Impressive data, I see you’ve improved upon Doctor Palmer’s original dwarf star belt design,” Victor complimented.

“More customisation I think, after all it is difficult to improve on perfection,” Ryan said.

Victor was still impressed, Ryan’s suit sported blue and red colours (an homage apparently to the Ivy Town football team) padded and armoured, it had a helmet with a yellow visor protecting Ryan’s face.

“You’ve been studying what Palmer called the ‘Microverse’ right?”

“It’s getting bigger, in a sense, we’ve discovered structures and life forms that could be suggested to have caveman like intelligence, beyond the new energy sources and minerals that are theoretically possible, even before he disappeared Ray was using the dwarf star belt to get to work through the phone line, travelling through the photonic signals carried through the land line,” Ryan explained.

“Has the military tried to claim anything?” Cyborg asked.

“They have but we are a private lab and Palmer’s wife, excuse me, ex-wife is a pretty good lawyer,” Ryan said.

“A subatomic universe that exists beneath our own, it makes you wonder what other dimensions there could be, lower, higher, between,” Ryan could tell the young man was teasing, skirting around his intention for being here.

“You’re talking about the Multiverse aren’t you?” he asked.

“I’ve had my own ‘experience’ with the Multiverse, or at least I believe it was, the Flash claims more,” Victor said.

“Well the theory is that our universe is just one of many different universes, many of them similar and many different…” Ryan shook his head in embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, you’re not a student!”

“Scientists, always need to be the smartest people in the room!” Cyborg chuckled.

“I am the smartest man in the room,” Ryan puffed out his chest and Victor grinned.

“Only because I’m technically not completely a man,” he retorted and Ryan winced.

“Oh it’s like that is it, okay I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…that came out wrong, I’m sorry!”

The laughter though faded as Victor used his control of the digital space to recreate what he had seen after touching the mother boxes. It was box playback and simulation of a potential future, in what he theorised to be another reality. Bruce clung to the idea that it was the future if the right actions weren’t taken. Victor leant more to Barry’s line of thinking, the spaghetti idea, of both future and past simultaneously shifting. He showed Ryan the destruction of Metropolis, the terraforming of Earth and Wonder Woman’s funeral. Ryan widened his eyes in horror at the monster that slaughtered Aquaman and his Atlanteans. The way the grey skinned alien’s eye lasers curved already put nightmare scenarios in his mind, of being chased by twin beams that would never relent until they caught you.

Steppenwolf was a puppy in comparison to his master, Darkseid.

Victor considered showing Ryan the simulation he and Barry composed of Barry’s Multiversal adventure. The appearance of another Flash (who looked different from him, then again, Barry also saying he looked different now which just made Victor concerned for his friend’s sanity) and how the world changed completely from the simple act of Barry saving his mother. But that was Barry’s secret to share.

“I see, fascinating and terrifying at the same time, you want to prove that the Multiverse is real, well theoretically the best way to do that would be to shrink down beyond the subatomic scale and ‘slip’ below the quantum layer of our reality,” Ryan explained.

“I thought as much, we just need a way to do it,” Victor said.

“That seems a lot to just satisfy a scientific curiosity,” Ryan muttered.

“It isn’t just for scientific curiosity Doctor Choi, the Justice League want to travel the Multiverse to save one of our own,” Victor said and Ryan looked at him in shock.

Then he steeled himself, after all he had become the Atom to rescue someone after all.

New Earth

After dropping off the photos for Jonah, Peter sat, weighing his options, writing down little phrases he remembered and trying to bring together the fragments of a memory.

With great power comes great responsibility, was at the centre of the sheet alongside others, the more important, the larger the font, some had even been crossed out as irrelevant (rent, pizza time,  goooo, butter fingers). I believe there is a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest and noble, and finally allows us to die. Even though sometimes…

“Mr Parker,” he was driven out of his thoughts, turning the page on his notepad and looking up at the receptionist.

“Dr Ramon will see you now,” the woman said.

He bashfully nodded, remembering for a moment the red haired woman as he walked out of S.T.A.R. labs main lobby. Robbie booked him the ticket to Central City and Jonah (after a rant about the private lab being obviously responsible for the super hero menace) gave him the go ahead to investigate S.T.A.R. labs. Peter though was looking for an informal interview about something that had been bothering him ever since his memories began to ‘awaken’. He walked into a cortex with two computer panels either side of the front of the room, one wall on the left where a board was located along with a closed off section, whilst the right side had a small medical bay fit for a couple of patients at best. At the front of the room was a display case with a mannequin dressed in a purple costume that had a yellow symbol on the chest (a sun, Peter didn’t quite know), green gloves and boots, a yellow utility belt, a thigh holster, domino mask and a brown trench coat (it was all in Peter’s opinion a very 90s anti-hero style).

“Thunderman’s first costume,” Peter jumped slightly at the voice of the new entry.

He rolled into the room on an electric wheelchair, his short hair well styled, dry and scarred hands (the hands of engineer) pushing the controls on his arm rest. The latino man, younger than Peter had a proud smile on his face as he looked at the costume.

“Or at least it was his first costume once he stopped being Superman’s sidekick, he came to us in need of a support crew and it worked great, until do-gooders started complaining about our holding facility,” he explained.

“I mean maybe it’s the fact they were being held without trial, or the fact you used the inside of a particle accelerator,” Peter muttered, still masking his disapproval and defiance of the man’s ethics with his awkward nervousness.

“Decommissioned particle accelerator, what idiot would actually use a real one? Complaints persisted anyway, even within Team Thunder,” the man in the wheelchair continued.

Peter grunted, thankful he hadn’t been drinking coffee as he suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. The man he assumed then was Dr Cisco Ramon, continued, pursing his lips slightly in frustration.

“In the end we couldn’t be the ‘happy little family’ that he needed, Thunderman started being too brutal, even when he didn’t need to be, we’d have logical scientific solutions to problems and he would just smash his way through it,” Cisco explained.

“And did Thunderman’s smashing…” Peter gestured to the wheelchair and Cisco turned.

“No comment, there you’ve got your interview, if you want my life story my autobiography releases next week, please exit the building the way you came through,” Cisco began rolling out of the cortex, his expression as dismissive as it had been when he heard the Bugle wanted an interview.

“I’m not just here on behalf of the bugle Mr…”

“Dr Ramon,” he corrected.

“I wanted to ask you some theoretical questions.”

“I don’t take students, no I don’t think there can be coexistence between the truth of science and the belief of spirituality and yes I do believe humanity has been and will continue to be the primary cause of the breakdown of the planet,” Ramon rushed through the answers, still moving.

“I wanted to ask you the Multiverse and quantum consciousness shifting,” Peter said.

Cisco stopped, turning on his wheelchair and slowly rolling up to Peter.

“Where did you hear that term?” he asked.

“Well I’m something of a scien…” Peter blinked, shaking his head as he rushed through a flashback that would have preceded more traumatising ones. “I know stuff basically.”

“How fast would a person have to run to avoid slipping into the water?” Cisco asked.

“650 miles an hour.”

“Distance from Earth to the moon?”

“384,400 km.”

“What does trinity mean? And no I don’t mean the…”

“Codename for the first detonation of a nuclear weapon, carried out by the US army at 5:29 on July 16 1945 in the Jornada Del Muerto desert and released an explosive energy of 25 kilotons of TNT plus 2 kilotons of TNT and a fallout cloud,” Peter explained.

Cisco put a hand to his chin, and then looked up at Peter again.

“Tell me theoretically, the US military creates an Anti-Gravity harness, but they don’t have an emergency breaking system, your solution?”

“Maybe an Anti-magnetic inverter,” Peter said, wondering just what Cisco was trying to do.

“We extract an object from a two dimensional plane, how do we contain it within a 3D space?”

“Suspend it in a liquid solution,” Peter answered, was Cisco reacting, trying to prove he was smarter?

“A space born fungus starts replicating, how do you stop its growth?”

That triggered the memory, the black goo, those horrid teeth, the white eyes. Anger, sadness, shame, they all flashed through Peter’s mind, a dance he wanted to forget, a slap he wanted to take back and a friend he wanted back.

“I should never have hurt you, said those things.”

“None of that matters Peter, you’re my friend.”

“Best friend!”

“Well…overcoming the paradox of life born in a vacuum, it wouldn’t have defences against fire and high pitched sound,” Peter said. ‘Want to get some more dirt thrown in your eye?’ he resisted the urge to gloat.

“Okay, definitely smart…a little,” Cisco added with a slight sneer.

“So the Multiverse?” Peter reminded.

“Oh yeah, doesn’t exist,” again Cisco turned dismissively.

“What? What was all that build up for then?” Peter asked.

“Wanted to see if you were an even bigger idiot than most, Superman made contact with another universe, parallel to our own, but a multitude of universes existing simultaneously as if located on a map? Not possible,” Cisco shook his head.

“Unless you were able to generate enough force to match the vibrational frequency of that world or slip through the quantum barrier, then further interaction would be possible,” Peter said.

Cisco impatiently tapped his finger against his arm rest. He was about to turn to Peter when there was a rumble coming from the far wall. Suddenly, the display case for Thunderman’s costume shattered, throwing the mannequin across the room. The wall was blown open with an explosive force, and when the dust settled, Peter’s eyes widened as he looked at five individuals that walked into the room. One could only be best described as a lizard man, in a lab coat with ripped trousers. The man, the Lizard invoked images in Peter’s mind of another similar man he must have met at one point, but this Lizard had more lizard than humanoid features and a larger tail.

For a moment Peter thought he was seeing electricity gathering in the hands of one man. But it was some kind of vibrational charge, a type of energy blast contained to a pair of gauntlets a man in a padded yellow suit wore; he also wore a military grade vest used by bomb disposal experts and a balaclava. Next to him was a man in a black turtleneck sweater with black gloves and a coat, his head covered by a specialised helmet that looked like a crystal ball. Fourth of the men was all too familiar to Peter, he had seen his face in both magazines and in his mind’s eye.

Doctor Otto Octavius, dressed in a black sweater and cardigan of all things, with his four cybernetic arms wrapped around his torso. There was a sound behind Otto, one that was familiar to Peter, frighteningly familiar.

The roar of the glider engines died down, revealing it was a much smaller, disc shaped design. The man standing on top of it was already holding an orange, pumpkin like bomb. He wore a military green suit with some padding and pouches on it. His face was half covered by a helmet with goggle lenses on it.

He recognised the mouth and chin instantly though, combined with the logic of who younger than Norman on his universe could use the Goblin tech.

‘Harry,’ Peter wanted to whispered, before this sinister five struck.

Next Chapter 3: Assembly required

Chapter Text

Avengers X Justice League: Kingdom Come

Chapter 3: Some assembly required

Follow the sirens and the police radio, that was generally the plan Peter had taken. Ned and MJ had gone away to College; ESU offered some good prospects, though Professor Warren kept complaining about his tardiness. Peter swung through the New York streets, his playground and responsibility. A responsibility he knew he had been a bit lax with. Vulture and Mysterio, other than that he had not been living up to his full responsibility. There were plenty of robbers he couldn’t turn his back on, that’s what he had been reminded of, that one night, that one guy committing a crime he turned his back to. Peter had left two bodega robbers on lamp posts for the police to pick up by the time he had gotten to the construction site. The site itself though was a front for the big man, the big man of crime. After his brief appearance at Christmas, Fisk had gone underground, and though his lawyers were in the process of proving to the mayor’s office and the DEA that he was a reformed individual, Peter and the rest of the community in New York knew otherwise.

The Hawkeye’s, devils and punishers knew that a man like the Kingpin couldn’t change. His encounters with the devil of Hell’s kitchen were legendary, as in some debated what was canon and what wasn’t anymore. None of that mattered now, the kingpin’s new opponent wasn’t a devil, an archer on a Christmas escapade, or his echo, Fisk now had a spider to contend with. Peter’s costume was bright, homemade, which was liberating for him. Mr Stark’s suit had been state of the art, but there was a satisfaction in Peter using a suit that was his. The logo drew inspiration from the counterparts he had met, Peter 2 and 3, his brothers.

Though bright, though hopeful, he could still be stealthy, webbing the patrolling thugs to the walls and knocking them to the floor. When he put one man in a cocoon, he quickly moved to knock out another guard, webbing his mouth shut and kicking him across the face, using just enough strength to render him unconscious with no permanent damage. Another advantage of no Stark gadgets, Peter became more creative; upside down takedowns, web rushes, and his own designed impact webs that worked like riot bean bags. His peter tingle flared, and he heard the thrusters of a rocket propelled grenade. Peter jumped, catching the rocket with his webs. He could have thrown it back at the shooter, could have knocked all of them out of the construction zone, but he didn’t, just because he could beat them up didn’t mean he could kill them.

Spider-man doesn’t kill; he didn’t need to remind himself. The explosive was redirected, sent up into the sky, a bit of fireworks for New York’s finest before Peter shot webs at the shooter, tangling the man up in the empty rocket launcher he was holding. With Kingpin’s hired thugs groaning and trapped, Peter removed the lids of some of the crates, building materials, plywood, Judas bullets, S.H.I.E.L.D. Icers and fish oil tablets.

“Probably part of his Inhuman trafficking operations,” there was no tingle, no danger.

It was just a friend making a sudden appearance, after Peter had done most of the work. Peter smiled underneath his mask, jumping over Dr Stephen Strange’s head and perching on the wall where the sorcerer’s portal closed.

“Though it’s more of a snake oil sale, the higher bidder buys a tablet just to see if they’ve got the Inhuman gene, most thought the government had gotten a hold of the Terrigen infected fish oil products, god that was a long time ago,” Stephen muttered.

“Nothing wrong with classics, nostalgia isn’t just for pleasing fans, it can also be a bad guy waiting in the wind,” Spider-man said.

“Nice work here, I’m serious, we wouldn’t have noticed this,” Strange said, looking up at Peter and smiling.

“I take it you aren’t here for a team up then, I’m not an Avenger,” Peter said.

“You always wanted to be one.”

“I know not a lot of time has passed, but, I feel like I’m not that same kid anymore, I mean we were both just barely Avengers ourselves,” Peter said as he landed by Strange.

“I know, I just saw it as chaos, egos responding when they needed to, the Inhumans, Vulture, Kingpin…Wanda,” Strange sighed at the last name. “They, we missed a lot, and there’s even more going on, beyond even our world,” he stated and Peter crossed his arms.

“Multiversal shenanigans?”

“If that’s what you call a Multiverse of Madness yeah!”

“Our responsibility doesn’t ends at just our world,” Peter said.

“Honestly I thought I would need to do some more convincing, but of course you would know what the right thing to do is,” Strange smiled.

“This is related to that stuff that happened in Westview right? The second time that is,” Peter added.

“Yeah, three people missing, they were of a lot of help, but the issue is more complicated than that, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to get involved, this stuff is important too,” Strange explained and Peter nodded.

“It is, and hopefully I can get Stark to get a bit more involved in this level of crime than whatever alien pops up in the sky, or from another universe now,” Spider-man shrugged.

Strange smirked, creating a portal with his sling ring.

“I know you guys have set up at the mansion on Fifth Avenue, I’ll need to settle some things first just in case this ends up being an ‘off world’ type situation,” Spider-man said and Strange nodded.

“I understand,” and he did, still retaining the memory of his spell, and all that the mistake his spell cost Peter.

So Peter swung back to his life, using the phone built into his mask to contact his aunt May. The woman worked at the F.E.A.S.T. centre, not entirely ignorant as to what had happened to her. She held on to a dream, a nightmare of a past world, her death at the hands of someone she wanted to help. But even that didn’t stop her from helping people with a smile on her face.

“Miles, can you take these over there? Thanks,” he said to the young volunteer before she picked up her phone.

“Hey Aunt May, look I know I said I’d come by and help but…”

“Peter, I’ve read the ‘Frontline’ blog on what happened at Westview, I understand,” she said.

“Aunt May, you are one in a million, you know what to say if the police come by?”

“I’m not Ned,” she scoffed.

“I know I know, you’re the best May,” Peter smiled underneath his mask.

He kept on swinging, going towards the responsibility he knew he had to pursue. There was a lot he could say to Stark, to Wilson too, but his frustrations needed to wait. Spider-man swung off of a flag pole, elevating himself above the city for a moment before he began to dive, the smoke of a nearby chimney seemed to come alive, making a ring for Peter to go through. Only the ring of smoke followed Peter, obscuring his vision of the streets below. Despite his spider sense not going off, Peter fired a web line defensively. He floated off of the ground; his web hit nothing but air, then suddenly.

“Ow,” he grumbled when he hit the floor.

He hadn’t had a concussion since Thanos hit him, so Peter definitely wasn’t concussed. But he began to think he was when he saw simply darkness around him. A small light began to shine as Peter turned, the ‘room’ he was in seemed to go on forever but his focus was only on the massive construct, a mechanical web of some kind. But at the base of it was a chair, and sitting on that chair was a woman. Far older than May, elegant silver hair and a modest red suit that completely bound her legs together. There was a red spider symbol on the chest of the suit, and her eyes were covered by a pair of round shades.

“Hello Spider-man,” she smiled at him.

The lenses of Peter’s mask grew wide as he stared at the woman.

“What the fu…”

New Earth

Harry Osborn, they were supposed to be friends, the best of friends. Memories flashed before Peter’s eyes, memories of betrayal and even nonexistence. In a few split seconds, he saw worlds, worlds where Harry tried to cure the world, where madness as well as a disease consumed him, and a world where they had never even met at all.

‘But it isn’t this world, it isn’t supposed to be this world,’ Peter thought.

His remembrance was cut short when he felt wires wrap around his arms and waist. Peter slammed into the ground, feeling his head impact it. A normal person would have been concussed by it, but Peter learned he could take a lot of punishment. Rather than get up though, Peter stayed down, he had rolled to the side with his back to the villains and their prey so his deception worked even more.

“SECURITY!” Ramon yelled.

Shocker fired a blast from his gauntlets, a series of vibrations created an energy blast that blew apart the section of the lab behind Ramon. Lizard hissed as he crawled around Ramon, his tail left a crack in the ground with each slam against it.

“Conners, you idiot, wake up damn you, the last thing your wife will want is to stay this monster you created,” Ramon said.

“He created Ramon, I knew you would avoid responsibility as always,” Harry said.

He lowered the hover disc, stepping off of it and taking a few steps towards Ramon.

“Knew I should have taken the advice of that idiot Irons,” Ramon muttered.

He didn’t notice Ock’s tentacles grab the wheels of his chair. Suddenly, Ramon was lifted off of the chair, which was soon after crushed by one of the tentacles.

“Still carrying on the deception aren’t you Ramon?” Otto demanded.

“Hey, why stop a good act, people love the victim don’t they?” the man with the fish bowl asked.

The fishbowl suddenly faded, revealing a man with dyed black hair. Peter afforded himself one look and was reminded of a time he wanted to get into a theatre showing, and a French restaurant for some reason.

“You should know shouldn’t you Beck? You ruined your own career so you’ve blamed it on anything you can,” Ramon huffed.

“Enough, Otto,” Harry nodded to Octavius.

Doc Ock dropped Ramon, and the young man landed almost smoothly on his feet. Cisco formed fists in his hands and glared up at the ‘villains’. Peter still couldn’t tell, but he remembered at least some of the lessons Jameson taught him. So he opted to do the opposite and get the facts before he rushed to judgement.

“I wasn’t playing the victim, this was simply…”

“A lie to make your life more convenient?” Harry demanded, walking up to Ramon, nearly pushing his forehead against the man. “Otto’s fusion generator, my father’s performance enhancers, Conners’s healing serum, all inventions you couldn’t afford to have existing,” he explained.

“They were going to fail either way Osborn, so yeah, I was damn well going to profit off of those failures,” Ramon said.

“And how many people suffered because of that?” Otto demanded.

“No one who wasn’t going to die anyway,” Ramon retorted.

“My wife, Norman, but it wasn’t enough was it, you had to sabotage Toombs’s harness didn’t you?”

“A nasty fall,” Ramon huffed.

“He wasn’t going to fail though, you didn’t need to stop him,” Harry said.

“Sounds to me like you clipped the old Vulture’s wings, Hollywood might make it dramatic and heart breaking, but the truth is its murder,” Beck explained.

“I did my job, you idiots, what did you think was going to happen, that I’d confess, reveal my employers, they frighten me far more than you,” Ramon said.

“Why do it though, why sabotage our efforts?” Harry asked.

“To protect the world from people like you,” Ramon seethed.

“And now we’re going to protect the world from you,” Harry said.

Ramon seethed, before a grin crossed his face.

“SUPERMAN! HELP ME!” he screamed.

Metropolis

“Mr Murdock, Mr Murdock!”

“Matt are you okay?”

“MR MURDOCK!”

The judge’s yell was like a foghorn blowing in his ear.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

“His eyes are like blood?”

“Hot shot lawyers have all the issues?”

“Better not mess up the verdict!”

“Matt,” he heard his co-council’s whisper, and it sounded more like a raised voice.

Matt raised his head from his papers, looking to the judge holding his gavel, then to his partner Adrian Chase. The young man looked at Matt through his wide rimmed glasses, concerned for someone who was usually so reliable. Matt rubbed his eyes, looking to the person they were defending.

“Don’t worry Mr Shrek, I’m fine,” he said.

“You’d better be Mr Murdock, because this is some serious time I’m facing if you do,” the man said.

“Your honour, perhaps Mr Murdock isn’t fit to offer council to the accused,” their opponent said.

Another boy from Hell’s kitchen, working pro-bono for the secretary of Charles ‘Chip’ Shrek. Foggy Nelson looked good on the tablets, offering support to the smaller woman, appearing the altruistic hero. Matt knew it was a lie, the man was just as greedy as any lawyer, he just fancied himself a nice guy every now and then. Nothing could be proven about Shrek, nothing about his chemical disposal operations, nothing about the blackmail of certain senators, only one secretary with a heart seemed to be stupid enough to violate a nondisclosure agreement and risk Shrek’s wrath. His father had been known for his ruthlessness, Chip was rumoured to have savagery. It was no wonder the man was called the ‘second coming of the Kingpin’.

‘Nobody is innocent, nobody,’ he remembered words he had never heard before, remembered the anger when they were said to him.

He was doing the girl a favour, counter suing her for breaching her work contract, better she lose her money than her cash.

‘It was only business,’ he remembered the outrage he felt when someone justified taking away the people he loved.

“Mr Murdock?”

“I suggest a short recess your honour,” Chase said.

“More attempts to delay your honour, Miss Reynolds has waited long enough,” Nelson said.

“Indeed, Mr Murdock is there…”

“YOU NEED TO MOVE NOW!” Matt yelled.

It had been instinct, something inside of him that responded to the sounds he heard. They grew in their intensity, closer, closer, until they were so close that Matt could smell the cordite in the air, feel the shockwaves on his skin as sensitively as he did the materials of his suit. The wall next to him was blow open and a mech of some kind crashed into the podium for the jury. He walked away from the bodies, his thick boots coated in blood like a new layer of paint. The mech looked like some kind of Transformer, parts whirling across it, but its ‘face’ was a blue tinted visor. Behind that visor, bearded and angry was a man Murdock had gotten off for murder before.

Winslow Schott, an engineer for LexCorp until he was fired. Then he went into making toys, incredibly dangerous toys. Matt had managed to convince a jury that Winn had provided adequate safety instructions for his ‘spring boots’ and that the injured people using them were at fault. Schott walked free, then graduated to organised crime, and then murder.

“Oh god,” he heard the horrified whisper of a woman who smelt an awful lot like a squirrel.

He recognised Squirrel Girl of the New Warriors, supposed super heroes. She put her hands to her mouth, horrified by the bodies Schott stepped on.

“You’re the one who knocked me in here lady, you should have watched where you were unleashing that surprising strength on,” Schott said.

He was smiling, but that sight faded slightly with each passing second. The next thing Matt knew, Schott was firing a blast from his gauntlet, hitting the shocked ‘super hero’ and sending her flying out of the building.

“Excuse me ladies and gentlemen,” Winn mockingly bowed.

People looked out of the window, seeing the fight on the streets. Debrii was throwing cars at a woman in white and black.

“You shouldn’t have tried robbing a bank Toyboy,” she said.

“It’s Toyman,” Winslow retorted, firing his blaster at her.

Debrii levitated out of the way, only to be hit by a sonic wave. The woman in white and black had make up on her face, giving it a skull like appearance. She screamed, a sound that shattered glass, a sound that reached Matt’s ears and brought him to his knees.

Earth of the Avengers

Matt flinched as he leant forward. His ears rung and he brought his hands towards them, feeling stronger hands take hold of them. She could have crushed them if she wanted to, but she had transformed because she believed danger was present. Matt felt Jennifer’s hand shrink in his, her hair rested on his shoulder and shrunk to her normal size.

“What was that?” she asked, kissing his shoulder.

“A dream,” he said.

“Must have been a pretty powerful one, a distracting one too,” she said.

“Sorry, not quite the way you were imagining how I’d spend my vacation huh?” Matt asked.

She remained silent, standing up, he heard her dress into her pants and shirt, dodging his suit…his jacket, shirt and tie, even his cane. Their date went brilliantly despite Jennifer’s distractions, the demands of a lawyer who handled super human affairs. Matt expected to talk shop, but she took him out to an Indian restaurant, knowing he’d appreciate the tastes there. It wasn’t even night and they slipped into her apartment, passionate kisses turning into far more.

“I kind of altered the way dates usually go for me because I thought you’d be going off in the night,” she said.

“You do this often?” Matt asked.

“Rich coming from you,” Jen retorted and Matt chuckled.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he smiled for her.

“The brooding guy keeping things close to his chest can be sexy, but so can a guy who shares, I might not have super hearing or ‘echo location’ but I do have a way to tell when a man is lying,” Jennifer pounced on the bed and then laid beside Matt, putting one leg over where his was underneath the sheets.

She put her hand to his chest and pushed her forehead against his.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

His heart pounded when he thought of something to say. He moved to kiss her, but she teasingly pulled away.

“Answer me honestly and then I’ll kiss you again.”

“Honestly Jen…” Matt paused.

There were so many things he wanted to say, the frustration of Fisk’s freedom, the Kingpin still found a way to make his mark on New York and even further across the states. He wanted to tell her about his agreement with the Kingpin, concealing a crime for the sake of protecting Foggy and Karen. But he knew she would judge him, she would see the blood on his fists when he beat Fisk, hear the scream of rage when he was tempted to kill the man. There was a reason he didn’t wear his new suit around her, the yellow and red was bright, who could take that seriously? It made a good distraction for criminals, but the red, the pure red was like blood, threatening, imminent. Jennifer had been exposed to a dark part of the world because of the Intelligencia. There were some parts of this life Matt wanted to protect her from.

“I don’t want you to think less of me,” he said.

“After that mess in Westview, I didn’t call my parents, my cousin or my friends, I called you,” she confessed.

She was about to lean down and kiss him when he tensed, hearing footsteps, smelling…strong after shave.

“Someone’s at your door, expensive, up market after shave and hair-gel products, high quality titanium watch with micro-parts inside it and…” Matt sniffed and shook his head. “The guy actually eats his own ice cream flavour!” he remarked.

“What?” Jennifer flinched when a knock came at her door.

She pecked Matt on the lips and went about finding her trousers.

“They landed by your makeup mirror,” he said.

She would have asked how he did that, but then she remembered the perfect middle of the day. It was enough to distract her from the insanity of her brief Avengers stint in Westview, and the revelations she witnessed there. Quickly pulling her trousers on, she went over to the door, flipped off the locks and opened the door.

‘Oh yeah, he definitely eats his own flavour,’ Jen thought as soon as she saw Tony Stark standing outside her apartment, thinking sunglasses and a baseball cap would hide his identity.

“Have you been accosted Mr Stark? Do you require the services of a lawyer because I’m currently off duty, please call back during office hours,” she explained, promptly shutting the door.

“Rude,” she heard on the other side followed by another knock.

“Window,” she whispered as Matt emerged, buttoning up his shirt.

Matt however shook his head, looking to the window. Her jaw nearly fell to the floor when she saw the Iron man armour floating outside.

“Hi, mind opening the door, it would be a good opportunity to speak to both of you,” Tony said.

It was Jennifer Walters who opened the door though, it was She-Hulk. The Jade Giantess glared down at the billionaire, whose sunglasses were glowing with the targeting retinas of his armour. She let out a menacing growl as she grabbed Tony by his tie and yanked him into the room.

“I’m flattered but I’m married,” Tony said.

“What are you doing here Stark?” she demanded.

“I wanted to hire your services, both of you,” Tony said.

“Jennifer and I don’t work together,” Matt said.

“You are however one another’s booty calls.”

“Look Stark this is none of your business, this kind of behaviour can be classed as stalking,” Jennifer said.

“Also you’re clearly using your armour in a public zone, unless you’re transferring it to a specific location you have to have probable cause for its presence in this neighbourhood, especially in regards to watching and recording others,” Matt explained.

“Okay Mr lawyer, or do you prefer your nom de guerre? The Daredevil?” Tony asked.

It was Jennifer who reacted, stepping over Tony, casting a shadow over him.

“Mr Stark, I assure you I am not Daredevil,” Matt said.

“And if he was, there are laws against blackmail Stark, and believe it or not the law applies to you,” Jennifer said.

“Strange, I could have said the same to you,” Tony retorted.

“And if I were Daredevil Mr Stark,” Matt said as he put on his tie. “I would say that some super heroes wish to remain anonymous and with good reason, the protection of loved ones who didn’t choose this life and do not have the luxury of a billion dollar lifestyle or government protection, which itself has proven to be ineffective at times. Now you famously chose to forgo anonymity, but legally and morally speaking you do not have the right to make that decision for everyone else, I should remind you the Sokovia accords you previously supported…”

“And fragrantly disobeyed at your own discretion anyway,” Jennifer added.

“Have been repealed,” Matt explained.

Jennifer stepped away from Stark as Matt extended his cane, walking to the door.

“You don’t have to leave,” she said.

“I’ll catch up later, you be careful okay?”

“Always,” she kissed him on the cheek, and then closed her door when he walked out.

There was a smirk on her face; she loved having a ninja boyfriend. Matt didn’t need to stay on the same floor; he could listen to the conversation, focusing on certain words. He smiled as he heard ‘I know how to contact Daredevil,’ and other excuses from Jennifer that he knew didn’t have Stark convinced.

“I’ve seen trial videos of Mr Murdock, or rather a friend of mine has, he’s got pretty good eyes, he could spot little micro expressions and body language that indicated a person who isn’t as blind as he says.”

Crash!

Tony checked the feed from his armour; Murdock was on the pavement, having walked into someone carrying their shopping.

“I am so sorry,” they said to him.

“Is this thing you’ve come to me for connected to what happened in Westview?” Jennifer asked.

“It is, we need a team for a rescue mission, those two men from the other world and Aeon, so Miss Walters are you in?” Tony asked.

Avengers Mansion

“Yes, yes, definitely yes, who would say no?”

Kate smiled at Kamala’s eagerness, Cassie likewise was marvelling at the lab set up. Arthur looked over at the girls, all of them speaking as if they were old friends. Already their synchronicity was clear, a bond had been forged and all there was left to do was see if it could survive battle. The Martian changed to his human form, that of Arthur Caster, former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and pastor.

“I knew it was that look,” a voice spoke from his side.

He looked to the lab entrance, seeing the smile of a young woman he had known since she was a child. Monica wore a white and black outfit her friend and ‘aunt’ Carol Danvers had given her, made by the Aladnean seamstresses. For all their traditions they were good with fashioning light weight but dense materials. Monica had added to the outfit with a coat.

“What was…”

“The graduation gift you got me, when you heard where I was being transferred to, you said it got cold there, mum told you not to baby me,” Monica chuckled.

“What did you mean before, about my look?” Arthur asked.

“Your Martian form, the face is so different than this, yet I can still tell when it’s disapproving, when you turned back into Arthur you confirmed it N’orr,” Monica stated.

“My Martian named is N’orr Cott, but I would rather you call me Arthur, it is who I have been for more than twenty years,” Arthur said.

“I know, you don’t have to appear human you know, you can use your true form,” Monica said.

“That isn’t my true form, Martian forms would to a human eye be far more terrifying, I don’t want you or them to be afraid of me. As for my disapproval, yes I suppose I do disapprove, Cassie Lang, Kamala Khan, Kate Bishop, these three proved themselves very well, but even though Bishop and Lang are over enlistment age, they are still far too inexperienced to continue this life,” Arthur explained.

“But it is their life, their choice and I’d rather be guiding them,” Monica said.

“I am familiar with Kate Bishop’s family situation, Kamala Khan’s family is of no concern as they have called seven…”

(Avengers ring tone)

“Hi Mom,” Kamala said nervously.

“Eight times, Scott Lang though…” Arthur tensed slightly.

“Lang was injured when he, Cassie and the Pyms were stuck in the Quantum realm,” Monica said.

“Lang and Hope’s return was delayed wasn’t it?” Arthur asked.

Monica’s silence was all but confirmation. The young woman remembered Westview, her second time there when the universe literally opened up. She remembered Sharon Carter responding with her unit, the CIA commander showed her true character, quite literally changing upon her death into a monstrous White Martian. According to Arthur, the enemies of his green brethren, whom in his universe were all dead. Everything happened so quickly, the Westview crisis, and now the rescue of the three trapped individuals, there hadn’t been time for a proper investigation and a talk with Arthur. In a sense that was why they were going for those who had been present at Westview. The three girls had proven themselves reliable enough to warrant some trust.

So in turn Tony went to re-recruit She-Hulk, whilst Strange and Sam pursued other possible new recruits.

“So you haven’t added any kind of weaponry to it then?” Shang-Chi asked Bucky.

They were stood around a table, where one of Stark’s robotic arms made adjustments to Bucky’s own Vibranium arm. The former Winter Soldier took the arm off of the holder and reattached it to his shoulder.

“The arm is the weapon, besides I don’t use weapons like that anymore,” Bucky said.

“You’ve renounced killing?” Shang asked nervously.

“I killed during the war because that’s what happens, we understand it’s not right but in that moment it’s a matter of your survival and the survival of the people around you. That we can accept, but I think we both know there’s an extreme to that which is separated by too thin a line,” Bucky explained.

“Yeah, I assume you found out about my dad,” Shang said.

“You were a kid, there may not have been codes involved, but there was a form of control there, make no mistake,” Bucky said.

“I still made a choice, I still did what I did out of anger, a need to please him, and after I felt so bad that I just crawled into a hole, which led me right back to him anyway,” Shang muttered.

“You still stopped when you did it once, you went out of your way to try and not kill the Ten Rings thugs that attacked you, that means something Shang-Chi,” the way Bucky said his name made Shang’s eyes widen.

It was spoken with the exact accent and way that a speaker of mandarin would use.

“One advantage of being the soldier, I know a lot of languages,” Bucky elaborated and Shang chuckled.

“So your arm, my rings, Cap’s wings, too bad about the shield,” he said.

Bucky shook his head, the third mystery after the White Martians, Cap’s shield. It had shattered during the fight, suggesting that it wasn’t really the shield and perhaps suggesting that the ‘Steve Rogers’ who gave Sam his shield wasn’t really Steve Rogers. But as Steve’s oldest friend, Bucky had no doubt in his mind that he would have chosen Sam Wilson as his successor. This was perhaps because Sam Wilson out of anyone knew that war required more than just good soldiers, but good men too.

Washington

The wings still worked well enough, but clearly the American government was missing something on the Wakandan design. Not that Sam hated the old design, carbon fibre, non-magnetic, and despite the reputation of Vibranium it was light-weight, which gave it a bit of a boost in terms of speed. Sam though had been at it longer, he knew all the manoeuvres and the tricks, diving into the clouds, he was able to intercept his target. There were still some marks on where the old wings had taken damage, and the red had been replaced with green. The pilot himself wore a similar green variation of what Sam wore as Falcon, his face kept hidden by the green helmet he wore with an orange, beak like visor. Much more effective than Sam’s goggles, which he still wore underneath his own helmet. It had been met with some backlash from the three super fans at the mansion, but he decided to opt for a fully dark blue costume, more akin to Steve’s. Steve though made the cowl/helmet mask work, Sam instead chose a blue helmet with an orange visor of his own.

The new Falcon landed at the White House fountain, pulling his helmet off to reveal airman Joaquin Torres, with an eager expression on his face.

“Impressed?” he asked.

“One would think you were part of the project yourself,” Sam said.

“I had some shore leave, a lot of time to study Youtube demonstrations, plus all those scientific analysis on your flight pack,” Torres stated.

“Well you certainly move like I did, but don’t forget to put your own spin on it, original thinking can go a long way,” Sam said.

“Thanks, no shield?” Torres gestured to Sam’s empty arm.

“Yeah about that, we have a situation we could use some extra arms for,” Sam said.

“An invasion?”

“Not right now, a rescue mission at the moment, I figured we could use some flyers, are you still on that shore leave?” Sam asked, smiling slightly.

Torres grinned in turn, putting on his helmet and folding out his wings.

“I’m in, Captain America,” he said.

New Earth

Clark looked at the superheroes in front of him, though it was a term he might have used loosely. They were brutal on his Earth, but there seemed to be an element of enjoyment in inflicting pain. He saw the flow of hormones and excited heart rate of Manchester Black as he continued to apply pressure to Mannheim’s armour. Cracks were beginning to form on the gang member’s bones. Then the Man of Steel looked to his older counterpart, Superman and Magog were looked in a deathly stare, the former of disapproval whilst the latter retaliated with rejection.

“He’s done, his armour and weapons are disabled, rip him out of the armour and the cops will take it from here,” Clark said.

“Newbie, you probably don’t know how things work here,” Manchester scoffed.

“Which you can be forgiven for,” the black, slime like creature hissed.

Clark could see the nerves across the creature, the presence of organ like structures and the contents of a stomach still burning away raw flesh. Then he spotted the human inside the gunk, the preserved cells, the terrified heart rate of a man within his early forties.

“Your new man is an improvement over your usual partners,” the girl with the sword said, eying Clark flirtatiously whilst pointing her blade at him.

The energy was concentrated magic, her gene structure was human, but there was some kind of mutation within them. Her stance wasn’t like Diana’s though, she was self taught in her fighting technique.

“David…”

“Do not call me that,” Magog snarled at Superman.

He dragged his lance through Mannheim’s armour, cutting it open and yanking the man out of it.

“How many cops do you think this guy killed before you dickheads showed up?” Peacemaker asked.

The voice was definitely Christopher Smith, the body shape too even if his helmet and uniform had a Star Wars aesthetic to it.

“Hey, they had to be late otherwise there would be no moral conflict for us to debate,” Deadpool said.

The man in the red suit was something else entirely, his brain chemistry was a mixture of cybernetic implants and what had mostly consumed the rest of his body underneath his suit. This man had turned himself into a cyborg in order to fight off cancer cells throughout his body.

“I surrender man, I surrender,” Bruno said.

“You heard him, turn him over to the police, now,” Superman said.

He made a fist, the heat around his eyes increased, his chest puffed out. Energy built up around Magog’s weapon, Magik’s hand flashed with the spark of some other kind of energy, Manchester’s eyes narrowed and the rubble around them vibrated. Venom licked his teeth, Peacemaker put his finger over the trigger and Deadpool brandished his swords. But the Man of Steel rushed forward, snatching Mannheim from Magog and appearing by the officer Dan Turpin.

“Here sir, the man responsible for this mess,” he said.

“Thank you son, truly thank you,” Turpin nodded to Clark.

Clark remembered Zod, remembered the damage they had caused to the city. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe his older self could stop this ‘Elite’ by himself. But that such a battle would only hurt the numerous people around them, cops, bank workers, residents of the nearby apartments and just passers-by. Then he looked back to the Elite and their disappointment, all except one of them, were eager to have caused pain.

“SUPERMAN! HELP ME!”

They both heard the cry, the older Superman was moving first when he noticed Magog with his hand to his ear.

“Incident in the slums, intervention is not required. Go to the temple instead,” Clark focused as his older self flew half way across the state in seconds.

“Hey guys, I just caught wind of a fight going on, Toyman and Silver Banshee, those idiots the New Warriors are involved,” Peacemaker said, holding his own radio.

“Then disaster is guaranteed,” Magik was about to create a portal, Superman could tell from the shift in the atmosphere around her.

“Forget it Battalion, we have new orders,” Magog said.

“Mate, it’s the New Warriors, they’re going to fuck it up,” Manchester said.

“Or is that the point for the plot?” Deadpool asked.

“Orders from on high,” Magog said.

Manchester’s smile faded, and the Elite Battalion bowed their heads. Magik created her portal, Clark saw the signs of trees, an oasis perhaps. As soon as the portal closed, Clark flew up for the sky, going past the clouds. He could track wherever they were going from orbit, he was about to get there, the clouds fading for the darkness of space.

Suddenly he was stopped, green energy covering his neck and chest, forming shackles like what was used on prisoners. He squinted at the green light shining in his face. The energy that the man’s ring generated formed a ‘suit’ though it looked more like a black and green version of the muscle organ diagram, save for the brown haired man looked at Clark through his domino mask.

“Sorry pal, you’re in a no fly zone,” strange, the Green Lantern sounded a lot like Deadpool.

Somewhere in-between

“Okay, dark place with no end, old lady on a web chair, I’ve been burned before so give me some good reasons to not immediately assume you’re a villain lady,” Peter said, pointing at the woman on the chair.

“You may call me Madame Web, as for assumptions, why you are correct, it would be safer to assume I was a villain, indeed it would have served you better to be suspicious of Mysterio after all. Though your reality has changed, it does not change the fact that your reputation has been altered by his actions, and ultimately your mistake in trusting him,” she explained.

“Okay lady, bring up some mistakes of mine, not cool,” he retorted.

“I am not here to be ‘cool’ Spider-man, in fact I am here to put you to the test,” Madame Web said.

“I’ve got too many tests on my plate already, besides I don’t have great experience with mentors,” Peter said.

Madame Web seemed to relish in showing Peter, his fight with Cap at the airport, being found by Stark in the original timeline. But in both timelines, Stark disappointed him, only it took this one for Peter to see that.

“I don’t care, he killed my mom!”

“Willing to let a villain escape to pursue his own personal vengeance, not a good mark, fortunately I don’t test Iron men,” Web said.

“Again you use the word test, I’m wondering what gives you the right to do that, power?” Peter asked.

“No responsibility, in fact when one embraces the responsibility, great…” the old woman stifled a laugh. “Sorry, no, can’t do that one, when you exist upon a level of reality I do, and you see at the dimension I do, you are presented with a choice, to use the power you have responsibly, or to turn away. Yet with great power also comes the responsibility to not cast a shadow over others, there is a thin line between preserving a life and interfering with one,” she explained.

“Dimensional,” Peter muttered, putting a hand to his chin in deep thought. “You’re speaking of the dimensions of perspective, time, mass and shape, reality and imagination, higher planes of consciousness that are theorised to be universes within themselves correct?” he asked.

“Merits to the star pupil, once I could have been considered human, but with the evolution of my powers came a greater connection to the web of mysteries. You are not the first Peter Parker I have come across,” Web stated.

She conjured images for Peter, and he saw a bulky looking version of himself amongst others, one Spider-man with four extra arms, another with Dock Ock arms, one in silver armour and a Spider-man without webs on his suit and wearing a blue top with ripped sleeves. With a flourish of her hand, Peter saw the image was part of a network on Web’s chair, each gap in the web representing a different Spider-man.

“Could someone tell me what the HELL is going on here?” a Spider-man in a yellow mask and flamboyant black and silver costume.

“I’d like to take a moment to apologise.” A Spider-man in a black suit with red armpits.

“LEOPARDON!” Peter’s eyes nearly burst when he saw a Spider-man piloting a megazord of all things.

“Dad are you really that afraid of me?” he felt confused watching a blonde haired girl pleading with a cop.

“Moments that tested the will of Spider-men, their values and their potential as heroes,” Madame Web said.

“Some to failure!”

“Miles, being Spider-man is a sacrifice…”

“So we’re supposed to let people die?”

“You have a choice between saving one person, and saving an entire world, every world!”

“I can do both!”

Though it lacked context, Peter was sure he wasn’t on the side of the older Spider-man with the skull on his chest. For all he knew though Madame Web may have referred to the Spider-man in the black and red suit. She showed other images, the white Spider-girl trying to stop the other Spider-man from helping someone. Then there was a Spider-woman on a motorbike who…

“Oh my god, is that woman going into battle pregnant?” Peter asked, his lenses comically wide. “I’ve heard of teen sidekick levels of irresponsibility but that takes it to a whole new level of bad parenting!”

Web’s show continued, her eyebrow twitching slightly as she saw a brown haired woman in a red suit and shades. The feed broke off into three Spider-women attacking a bare foot man in his apartment, ending with the three looking down at him as he fell to his death.

“I’m sure he was a bad guy but…straight up murdering him,” Peter muttered.

“The less spoken of that world the better I think,” Web muttered. “But there have been those whom have passed their tests!”

He saw the bulky Spider-man from earlier leading heroes, Iron man, Captain America and others in some sort of Secret War.

“Nah, I’m gonna do my own thing!” he felt a strange swell of pride, seeing the young Spider-man in the black and red suit using some kind of electric touch on the man with the spider skull suit.

“I’m tired of feeling angry, aren’t you, it’s time to move on with our lives, to not be bound by the sins of our fathers,” his eyes widened when he saw a familiar face, offering his hand to a wounded man with goblin like features.

“Good for you Peter-3,” Peter muttered.

“So you’re basically our Ben Kenobi then,” he said, looking completely at Web.

“In a manner, for you Peter Parker, I come with a warning, people think it is Aeon who is responsible for the great shift in your reality, but the manipulation goes back even further. You will be tested, your morality, your empathy, everything you stand for brought into question, know this, evil takes many forms, even heroes, but sometimes villains themselves are the ones who need saving.” Web explained.

“What does that even…” Peter began to cough as the red smoke surrounded him. “Lady, you couldn’t be more specific could you?” he asked.

Only for the smoke to pass and light to invade Peter’s eyes. He was on a rooftop, across from Avengers mansion.

“In short, this is obviously a lot more than just a rescue mission then,” Peter muttered before he swung down.

Missouri

It was a strange sight, for the suburban home of Jason Quill to be occupied by a master of the mystic arts. Dr Strange sat at the table, smiling as Jason’s wife put a cup of coffee out for him. She then retreated to the kitchen with her husband, leaving their visitor to converse with their tenant.

“We all were worried, when we heard the Legendary Starlord decided to actually come back to Earth long term,” Strange said.

“Well doc, I think you of all people would appreciate the value of healing,” Peter Quill smirked.

Stephen hummed as he took a sip from his mug, what was even stranger was seeing Quill in gardening overalls. The gloves he had been using were on the table between them, alongside the new Stark-Pod he’d been using to listen to 80s classics.

“We don’t all make it back in time though,” Strange muttered.

“To say goodbye?” Peter asked.

“To say sorry,” Strange said.

An uncomfortable silence formed between them, one ended when Strange’s third eye opened on his forehead. Quill put his hand to his throat, gagging at the sight.

“Okay, any reason you ruined my breakfast?” he asked.

“Double checking, our concern about you being back wasn’t just scepticism on your making peace with your past,” Strange said.

“As much as a past like mine can be made peace with,” Peter said.

He looked down slightly, still remembering the wonder his grandfather had when he regaled him with his Ravager and Guardian’s adventures. Then there came the raw rage Jason felt, learning it had been Ego, Peter’s father who put cancer in Meredith Quill’s brain, which then turned to sympathy on Jason’s part. No matter what Ego had done, he didn’t yearn for Peter to kill his own father. They cried and embraced again when Peter told him something a great man once told him, Ego may have been his father, but he wasn’t his daddy.

‘I think your mom would have liked Yondu,’ Jason told him.

“So what’s the concern?” Quill asked, focusing on business.

“Turn the pad off, disconnect the battery too first,” Strange said.

“Oh, listening devices yeah, the latest ‘improvements’ in modern tech,” Peter said as he went through the long and arduous process of practically dismantling his music player.

It had an even more awkward atmosphere as Peter kept stopping, shooting Strange a look when the doctor tapped his fingers against the table impatiently.

“There, now what’s got you worried?” Quill asked.

He removed some photos from his pocket, sliding them across to Peter, double checking to make sure Jason and his wife weren’t peeking in. Quill noted first that the photos were old, processed from a film, not a digital printout at all. They showed the body of a creature and different angles, white skinned, red scales across its back, carapace, torso, shots of its teeth and eyes.

“An alien, one we found at Westview,” Strange provided some context.

“I’m been from one end of the galaxy to the next, seen all sorts and studied more I haven’t actually met, Shiar, Brood, Builders and Galadorians, this is nothing like them,” Quill stated.

“So probably not a species one could find in our universe, that checks out,” Strange said.

“Who was he?” Quill asked.

“She was a shapeshifter, disguised as Sharon Carter, probably for years.”

“As in ‘that’ Sharon Carter, made out with Cap…other Cap, though from what Sam said I’m sure she made a pass at him,” Quill said.

“Sharon Carter as in CIA commander, head of her own department in homeland security, and new evidence suggests the power broker of Madripoor,” Strange explained.

“And your concern is that this infiltration goes a lot further,” Quill said and Strange looked at him in surprise. “I’m not a bozo, I can figure things out.”

“Didn’t you jump into space without your helmet?”

“Touché, surprised you didn’t bring up punching Thanos, or the fact that I called Missouri separate from Earth,” Quill said shyly.

“Good, using familiar memories, except what’s worse is that these shape shifters are telepaths too,” Strange said.

“Damn, that puts them up on the Skrull, they can absorb short term memories. There are other shapeshifters in the galaxy, like Space Phantoms, some elves, some species in the Shiar empire that lost their original names and cultural identity. But nothing that has the ability to mimic a person that perfectly, even Skrulls can struggle when you know what to look for,” Peter explained.

“We have a specialist, but we’re worried about whether we can trust him too,” Strange said.

“Are you asking me to be an Avenger?” Quill asked.

“You can think of it as a consulting position, but the promise that you won’t include the Guardians unless you’re absolutely sure that they aren’t compromised,” Strange stated.

“They’ll have their hands full, what’s the next step?”

“Get changed, bring your helmet this time,” Strange grinned slightly as Quill shook his head.

New Earth-Metropolis

There was silence, a moment in which the voices stopped. Bruce walked with Sven towards the train station. The original plan was to get the train to Gotham, Bruce however could tell that there was something keeping Sven here. He looked to the young man, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

“If you want to get involved, go ahead,” Bruce said.

Sven looked at him confused.

“You can tell there’s danger can’t you, and you want to stop it, so stay, figure it out in your own way and I’ll do it my way, we’ll meet up afterwards when we can,” Bruce explained.

“Tactically it is dangerous to separate,” the croaky voiced Batman said.

“He’ll cover more ground on his own,” said the Batman in grey and black.

“Thank you, I hope you figure out who those other people are too, and how to work with them,” Sven winked at Bruce before he ran off.

Bruce huffed, smiling slightly. He pulled his hat over his eyes and turned in the other direction. As Bruce paid for his ticket, Sven went into one of the alleyways. Bruce got onto the train whilst marks glowed across Sven’s skin. The Batmen within Bruce’s mind seemed to sit in the same cart he did, practically filling it. Fabric began to cover Sven’s body, wrapping around him, followed by grey plates of armour, gauntlets slammed over his gloved hands. The train took off and Bruce looked out of the window, seeing an explosion in the distance. Sven’s eyes glowed, the armoured plates going over his chest and boots, plates covering his mouth.

“A world of super humans, all the dangers I expected,” the croaky voiced Batman said.

“Doesn’t that effort get tiring?” the blue and grey Batman asked.

“Mine is a bit more subtle,” the darker blue and grey Batman said.

Fins formed on Sven’s helmet, just as a knight’s visor covered his head. He jumped in between the walls of the alleyway, launching himself up into the air. Wind currents gathered around his hands and formed ribbons he used to swing across the buildings. Bruce saw the hero Aeon, moving like a pin ball as the train began to leave.

“There is hope,” the blue and grey Batman said.

“There is always hope,” nodded the black and grey Batman.

“Indeed there is!”

Bruce blinked in confusion, looking at a small creature, he could only describe it as imp like. It was floating in front of him, dressed in a cartoonish version of his costume, the ears of his mask were bent and his head was abnormally large.

“Oh no,” the other Batmen groaned.

“Not this guy.”

“Holy fifth dimension as Robin would say!”

“We don’t have time for games!”

“WHY ARE YOU HERE!”

“Wow, so many Batmen in that head of yours, you’ve really crossed the line between realities haven’t you?” the bat-imp said.

“I really am hallucinating,” Bruce whispered.

“Oh, I forgot, you’re from one of those grounded universes, let’s see, who to pick, would I be kind of a Tom Holland casting, no he’s taken, David Tennant, too old, Ncuti Gatwa? No Reckless just fan casted him as Web-Weaver, oh I know,” the bat imp clicked his fingers, and turned into Bruce, but in a tight cloth costume, blue and grey with bent bat ears and a shirt that said ‘Batman’s biggest fan’.

“Who are you?” Bruce demanded.

“Doesn’t the shirt give it away, I’m Bat-Mite,” the imp said.

“Our biggest fan!”

“A reality manipulator!”

“An annoyance!”

“Enough,” Bruce silence his counterparts.

“If you know something, tell me now,” he said firmly, looking at the imp, whose knees shook.

“Wow, you’re definitely got the intimidating part down, okay, we’ll go through some exposition next chapter,” Bat-mite said.

“What are you talking…”

Next Chapter 4: A hero’s drive

Chapter Text

Avengers X Justice League: Kingdom Come

Chapter 4: A hero’s drive

“My name is Barry Allen.”

“My name is Kara Danvers.”

“My name…

“My name…

“My name…

My name is Oliver Queen, but I have become something else, god’s vengeance, the Spectre. I witness events across multiple Earths simultaneously.

On Earth 2 I see Courtney Whitmore and her family eating a great meal, her family is not just her mother, or just her step father and brother. Family goes beyond blood and Courtney’s Justice Society embodies that ideal, that family has grown to even include the three children of Courtney’s enemies. Cynthia Burman is a victim of her father and his experiments, but she has left a share of victims herself, yet she sits at the table as a friend and trusted ally. Cameron Mahkent deserved better than both his parents and grandmother, I know his burden, the sins of the father can weigh heavily upon the son, but connected to the source I can see that our parent’s sins are not ours to bear, or even to put right. He will one day make the choice to create a legacy, to ensure others remember Icicle as the name of a hero. Beside him is someone whom bears a great sin, brought upon by vengeance. Artemis Crocks parents would have suffered the judgement of the Spectre if they had not changed their lives, they were as sadistic as any of the ISA. She was the best part of them, but she stands on the brink of a dark edge, an edge I have seen many stand upon, Sara, Slade, myself. We have all crossed that edge, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t lost. Artemis killed Cameron’s father to avenge her parents, and one day they that conflict between them will be revealed. On Earth 2 I see a family.

Earth 25-For the longest time it has been Clark Kent, Superman as the only super powered protector of that world. He is an icon, a saviour, a husband and father; he faces the burden of all these challenges. There’s no person in his ear, no team to help him out, his family is his support but not in the way it was for myself, Barry and Kara, he is the most powerful being on his Earth, yet he shows that his greatest power is his humanity. I see him sit with a man from an Earth, a future beyond, a Superman who has lost his wife and more recently his best friend. In that moment the Clark Kent of Earth 25 shows that a simple act of comfort and reassurance is enough to save entire worlds.

I see the Earth that I created, the Earth some world’s designate 0 or Prime, though it can get confusing since there are a great many Earths that have that designation. In Central City, a great streak of yellow lightning runs through the streets, my friend, the best man I’ve ever known, Barry Allen, the fastest man alive. When we first met, we couldn’t have been any different, he regarded me so highly, whilst I suspected him, since that was the life I lived, believing everyone had an ulterior motive. Despite this, he still came to me for advice when he got his powers, I told him the lightning chose him, I was right, it did choose him. Barry Allen became part of a perpetuating cycle across the Multiverse, lightning hitting a scientist, and that scientist running, running, onward, faster, saving lives and pushing his speed, creating a force that empowers other speedsters, a force that itself becomes the lightning, repeating the cycle again and again.

A cycle that you might call, retconning. And I have seen it, the path Barry’s life would have taken without the Flashpoint, a life where he moved on from his mother’s death, where he would have married Iris and had children with her, twins Dawn and Don, these two would carry on the legacy of the Flash as the Tornado twins, in time Don himself would even find love with a Thawne, siring the next generation of speedster, Bart Allen, the Impulse.

But Flashpoint created the timeline in which Barry’s only child was Nora, a Nora Allen who would work with Eobard Thawne, the man who killed Barry’s mother and sent his father to prison for most of Barry’s life. But despite the pain, the torment and betrayal, Barry forgave Nora, and it was his example that would lead her to create the next retcon. A timeline where she would exist, but free of the memory of ever having worked with Thawne, free to have grown up guided by her father, alongside her brother Bart.

When I rebuilt the Multiverse, I created a timeline for Barry to have everything he deserved. It wasn’t without difficulty, Cisco and Ralph left, Nash Wells died and Barry nearly fell, Thawne changed the timeline again in one final attempt to torment Barry, switching their places in the story. Barry had to cause Armageddon in this new timeline in order to put things right. He nearly fell, as when Thawne began to die, the subject of the Reverse Flash’s survival was turned into a debate, a voting game. Barry, my friend, the man I thought so highly of, he was like me, and I didn’t want him to be. In the end it took the wise words of Iris’s father Joe, the man who took Barry in when his father was arrested, to put Barry back on the track. But more conflict, more errors in the timeline would follow. After stripping Thawne of his speed, and with the help of his new timeline’s children Nora and Bart, Barry stopped Thawne once and for all when he was empowered by dark forces.

Barry’s life though would undergo further change when it seemed that his friend, Caitlin Snow’s husband, Ronnie Raymond had come back from the dead. An after effect of the Crisis, ‘Ronnie’ was in actually a dark entity known as Deathstorm. It took the sacrifice of Caitlin’s alter ego and cloned sister Frost to stop Deathstorm. But that event led to a further cascade that put Barry on the edge of falling. Caitlin wished to bring her sister back, using dangerous science, Barry refused and even demolished her work. Being cruel to be kind, that’s me Barry, not you…

In the end Caitlin seemed to lose her life in an attempt to bring Frost back herself with the aide of Frost’s lover Mark Blaine. It had resulted in the creation of a third alter for Caitlin Snow, a girl they would come to call Khione. This was the test presented to Team Flash, when the issue of resurrecting Caitlin or Frost was presented, Team Flash debated, and voted.

I wished I could have told Barry, that this was a test, that Khione was a test…and he failed.

They had voted on Thawne’s life and that was understandable, but an innocent, and a choice between two friends, it isn’t a choice and it isn’t a vote at all. This is what both the presence and I believe. Khione awoke abilities similar and vastly superior to what Frost could do, this was because she was a ‘goddess’ an extension of the presence as I am, one that was mortal and could still take action when I couldn’t. My own abilities had to be reduced to a mortal form when I came to Barry’s aide in a crisis against the villain Bloodwork. We stopped Bloodwork and Barry’s final battle would come in the form of a resurrected Eddie Thawne, formerly the boyfriend of Iris West. The negative Speed Force used Thawne as a new host, and drew from across time other speedsters that had threatened Barry in the past. Eddie’s descendent Eobard, the original Earth 2’s greatest villain Zoom, the artificial speedster Godspeed, Barry’s time remnant turned god Savitar with Eddie taking on a form some in the Multiverse might have dubbed, Cobalt Blue. To combat these villains, Barry had help from all his Team Flash allies, including his future children Bart and Nora.

HA! It was easy to manipulate events, shift the air a little, distract some of the villainous speedsters and disrupt their senses. I’m sorry Barry, but there was no way Nora was beating Savitar on her own despite what it looked like to you. Eddie Thawne was never supposed to come back, so my interference, at least from a distance without mortals knowing was allowed. I didn’t take more direct action because I knew that Barry wanted to save Eddie, and he did in a sense. Eddie Thawne continues to exist as an avatar of the negative speed force. Barry’s daughter Nora was born in the present time and in celebration, Barry spread the lightning, the speed force to those deserving of it in the presence.

Three individuals would come to inherit the power of the Flash. But in doing this, Barry had unintentionally, created an ingredient for something else, something darker to once again retcon the timeline.

I look upon a world where Barry is still running, still happily working with Team Flash. But he isn’t with Iris, he isn’t married, he doesn’t have children. Yet still, ever the Barry I admire, he smiles as the signal goes out to those whom in this world bear the name Paragon, or as other worlds might know it, League.

Individuals like Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El, key editor for Cat-Co Media, formerly a secretary to Cat Grant and then a journalist. Unlike her cousin Superman, Kara was a teenage girl, familiar with her world of Krypton when she arrived on Earth, the Earth formerly known as 38. She was raised by the Danvers, themselves experts on alien life involved with the DEO. Throughout her life to adulthood she was protected by her adopted family, in particular her sister Alex, encouraged to conceal her abilities. But in National City she used her powers to save her sister’s life, becoming enthralled by the thrill, not just of using her powers but of being that miracle that people were holding out for. Taking up her family crest, she became Supergirl and for years protected her Earth and in particular the community of aliens on it, saving her world from the Daxamites, even having her love Mon-El, sending him to the future. Her fight would attract friends, like the time travellers the Legion of Tomorrow, one of whom, Brainiac 5 would stay in the present to join Supergirl’s team. Conflict like the hateful campaign of the Agents of Liberty, humans dedicated to driving aliens from Earth.

As someone formerly a normal human being myself, I understand their fear. It is a special kind of fear to be powerless against those with far more strength than you. Yet there was a hatred in that conflict that I wouldn’t condone, a hatred that Kara herself never felt despite how understandable it would have been to. Even her new ally Nia Nal, would overcome the intolerance of the agents, even the intolerance within her own family and take up the mantle of the Dreamer, overcoming in the process her own self doubt and anxieties and helping Supergirl to defeat the Agents of Liberty and make Earth 38 a place more accepting of alien life.

Alien life that would ironically Earth 38 would have to rely on when the Crisis came. Hundreds of alien immigrants had used ships to come to Earth, ships that when the Anti-Matter wave hit Earth 38, the populace used to flee the destruction of their reality, for now.

Kara was the Paragon of Hope in a time when she had no reason to hope, yet still she persisted.

In the new Earth created after the Crisis, National City neighbours Central, but the Paragons would not be the only ones to remember the previous Multiverse. Earth 38’s Lex Luthor remembered and carried out his own plans for world domination, alongside the fifth dimensional witch Nxlygsptlnz, he sought out items of great power that would guarantee him rule over the world. Fortunately Kara had repaired her relationship with Lex’s adopted sister Lena, whom herself had discovered her own family links to old pagan magic, joining Dreamer, Brainy, Mon-El and Alex Danvers and her fiancé Kelly Olsen came together to protect their world.

They had won the day, yet still there was the doubt in Kara’s mind. She was living the same kind of life her cousin did, yet feeling like that life wasn’t truly the one she was meant to live.

She had the best of intentions, truly the best, revealing her identity to the world, no longer wearing the glasses.

But it was a mistake, not just a failure of the test, but in revealing her identity, she had painted a target not just on her back, but on the backs of others she called allies, like Barry.

The new Earth Prime had brought into it Earths that once had their own separate ‘continuity’, rules and sources of metahuman abilities. Black Lightning was the premier super hero of his world. Underneath the mask though he was a former Olympic athlete and educator Jefferson Pierce. More than that though he was a husband and a father, the life he lived as Black Lightning initially separated him from his wife. In time though his daughters would come to inherit and develop their own abilities based on his own. Black Lightning, Thunder and Lightning, together they protected the streets of Freeland and when the Crisis hit, Jefferson was cruelly wrenched from his world to aide the Flash in stopping the Anti-matter wave. He wasn’t allowed to die with his family, but still agreed to help, even when that help turned out to be completely unnecessary when the Anti-Monitor destroyed all reality save for the Vanishing Point.

When Earth Prime was created Black Lightning came to help in the final battle against the Anti-Monitor and would even attend my memorial at the opening of the new hall of heroes. He continued his fight, both on the streets and in the classroom, continuing to remain the good man his children and still very much wife believed in. He even tried to save the life of his greatest enemy Tobias Whale. When his best friend died, he carried on being the hero his family believed in. He even came to Barry’s aide during the Armageddon event. Jefferson Pierce has proven himself a hero, passed his tests, he is a worthy successor and perhaps an even greater Paragon of humanity than Ryan Choi had the chance to embody.

The original Paragon of courage Kate Kane…she’s a complicated person, an army drop out, who continued her training until the day she was called to Gotham city. Gotham, the city Batman once protected, most of the world believed him to be an urban legend; myself included (I’m still the modern day OG vigilante). When Bruce Wayne disappeared, and Kate’s loved ones were under threat, she took up the Batman costume. Out of pride she would redesign the costume to reflect (and potentially endanger too) her own identity. We all have our faults though, and Kate has proven that she cares about people. She was even faced with the difficult choice of fighting her sister Alice. After the Crisis, Kate barely survived an assassination attempt, a trauma that wiped her memory and left her scarred. Her face was repaired, her vocal chords altered and she was tricked into believing she was the daughter of the villain Black Mask. In the meantime the Batwoman mantle was taken up by Ryan Wilder. Though taking it up at first out of a sense of entitlement, Ryan’s experiences with authority had left an understandable chip on her shoulder, but it didn’t stop her from doing the right thing. Her efforts even allowed Alice to partly redeem herself. She’s recently developed a friendship with the Central City Citizen Media company founder Iris West.

Kate’s inability to hold on her mantle meant that she failed the tests she was given. Yet still she will be called to answer, to take up her mask and cape again, and she will not be alone this time.

I see Star City, my home, where my family now lives. My family, whom I tried to save, I tried to save everyone. Tommy, my sister, Quinton and my mother, there will always be a world where they live. But it is not this one, it was my test and I failed, thus I am punished to interact with a world where I could not save my best friend, where I could not protect my mother, where my half sister will never redeem herself. But it is still a good city, a good life, on the grounds of a newly renovated manor I see Sara Lance marrying her love Ava. They led the Legends of Tomorrow together and recently broke free of the time police that tried to imprison them. I’ve always loved Sara, she’s come far from the day she joined me on the Queen’s gambit. Upon arriving in the present, Quinton was very angry that he didn’t get to be there for his little girl’s wedding. This is a second wedding ceremony, one for Sara’s whole family, her mother and father, her sister’s variant, the Earth 2 Black Canary, Legends past and present and my family.

A ball lands by my feet and I look down at the brown haired girl running by to get it. She looks up at me for a moment and I smile sadly.

“Here I come, got you,” my sister Thea envelops the girl in a hug.

She and Roy are already married, that girl is my niece, Lian. I see a potential future of tragedy, one I will gladly become god’s vengeance to stop.

Yet still there is hope, hope in the likes of old and new friends.

New friends like Michael ‘Mike’ Carter, a time traveller and fixed point guardian. He came across the Legends of Tomorrow, whom revealed the ‘folly’ of him guarding the very moment the idea of time travel was composed. In his attempts to flee his service, he incurred the wrath of the time police and sold the Legends out to them. The Legends though would break free under a set of circumstances that would bring together the Legends, Team Flash and a new set of heroes.

One of those heroes stands besides Mike eating off of a platter.

“Fish cakes, now these are good,” the skinny man stuffed his face.

Though he didn’t seem physically imposing, his expertise in technology and sheer courage served as a great asset to the heroes he joined when time travellers attempted to seize his equipment.

“Careful Ted, you could develop a figure,” Mike teasing slapped the man’s belly.

“Speak for yourself,” Ted retorted.

“Hey, old football champ remember!”

Ted Kord, the Blue Beetle, Michael Carter, Booster Gold, they don’t know it yet but their friendship may very well save the Multiverse.

“Failed football champ,” said the man eating from one of the sandwich platters.

The red haired man irks me; his personality is a far cry from what you might call the qualities of a hero. He embodies the old macho personality, to the point he comes off as rude. Part of me thinks he shouldn’t be here.

But he is here, due to John Diggle failing his test. My friend, my brother, Dig, after the Crisis he and his family moved away from Star City. Something of great power and importance fell into his backyard and since then, he was bombarded with visions and a call to arms. John was a soldier long before he became involved in the madness of my crusade, he understood danger, duty and honour better than I did. Faced with the possibility of a grand adventure and a chance to be a greater hero than a street vigilante, he chose his family. In my eyes that makes him a true hero, but still he failed the test, by not answering the call.

But there must always be someone to light the way in any universe.

In this one, the ring of the Green Lantern Corps passed to someone whom most would think to be the least deserving of it.

“Why did we invite him babe?” Sara asked as she danced with her wife.

“Because he saved our lives and helped us save the universe from the ‘time police’,” Ava recounted.

“He made it easier,” Sara pouted.

“But how much of a mess would we have made if we didn’t have back up on this one?” Ava asked.

“Screwing time up for the better, easy for us, not so much for the people caught in the crossfire,” Sara said.

“Which is why we’re stopping right?” Ava asked.

Sara can’t answer her and I know why, perhaps better than Ava can. We each of us answer our own call.

I see the light on the red haired man’s ring glow, and he smirks, prepared to answer the call himself.

Barry is the first to arrive at the hall they built. First used when we fought the Dominators, it houses a model of my costume and a table. In the past the logos represented the original Paragons, but some have changed. Kara arrived next with Kate in tow. She is followed by Jefferson, the man nodding to Barry as he did. They heard the familiar sound of the Waverider arriving outside. Kara flew to the window, about to look out when two mounds of flesh suddenly pressed against the glass.

“OH MY GOD!” she blushed, withdrawing in disgust.

“You lecherous pervert Gardner,” Kate said.

Guy Gardner snickered as he pulled his pants back up. His ring produced a green field and also the uniform he wore. Despite being made of the energy of will it looked like fabric, a green and black suit, white gloves and a sleeveless green jacket that had the logo of the Green Lantern corps on it. Sara came out of the Waver Rider in her White Canary costume, behind her were the reincarnated lovers Hawkman and Hawkgirl and the newest Legends. Ted eagerly made himself a blue suit with his yellow goggles, the highlights styled after the scarab he had based his sonic weapons on. Mike, as Booster Gold altered a suit the time police designed, one originally intended for their true leader Per Degaton. He stole the tyrant’s suit and altered it with gold plating, blue stars and a half cowl with yellow shades.

“So what have we been called for?” Guy asked, landing on the ground and crossing his arms.

“Reality,” I say, finally choosing this time to reveal myself.

“Oliver,” Barry gasped, looking towards me with the others.

“Darkness is spreading across not just our Multiverse, but another too, two worlds however are about to die and the one responsible is this man,” I use my power to create a realistic construct of the man we must stop, the man I must judge.

Sven Reilly, and his alter ego, the spirit knight Aeon.

At the centre of nowhere is the great tree, not Yggdrasil, but a grander tree of worlds, of universes. Here, all time and space exists simultaneously, and expands, growing higher and higher and I have the joy of seeing these worlds, all that they are and all that they can be.

I see a world spared from the renegade TVA agent Paradox, spared the fate of destruction and decay, but it was not just this Earth that was saved. A type of bond was formed from two men who could not be any different, yet had startling similarities.

Wade Wilson, mercenary, joker, haunted by his knowledge of the forth wall and his own inadequacies, the need to be good enough. James Howlett, Logan, drunk, his long life a tale of pain and suffering, both what he has endured and inflicted upon others. Haunted most of all by those he could not save, those he let down, those whose faith in him he felt was wasted. Through the act of saving Wilson’s world, Logan was able to live up to the expectations placed upon him, to be proud to call himself and X-man. Together these unlikely heroes have proven that heroism can come from even the bloodiest of lives, and all it can take to defy the will of the universe is an act of great heroism.

A heroism that exists for all time, for those who bear the name X-men. Those who fight for a world that hates and fears them, those Gifted who seek a new life whilst clinging to their ideals, those New Mutants who move into a future healed of their traumas, the Legion at peace with themselves and their host. Through many timelines the X-men remain, even in their deaths they are reborn from the ashes. They shall return, mutants and X-men, ready to take their part in the next phase of a brave new world.

I see the four, a family, from both light hearted and dark beginnings, whatever the threat they endure because they are family.

Not even death separates them.

Whether it be vengeance!

“If Wanda Maximoff is alive, then she will pay for what she has done, even if I have to enact an incursion to punish her,” a blonde haired woman mourns her husband, her heart consumed by Malice.

But sometimes it is rebirth through science itself. Sometimes family in particular will defy the one above all just for a chance to revive their loved ones.

“The Void, the Void, Nova…she…”

“It’s okay Johnny, we’ve got you, we’ve got you,” I see a variant of the blonde haired woman, embracing the doppelganger of Steve Rogers, I see the family whole again.

I see the Fantastic Four of a new universe taking their first steps.

I see a prism of endless possibilities, where the unexpected can happen.

Such as Earth 82111, where Margaret Carter became the first super soldier, and joined with the Avengers in the modern age. She had returned from a tour of the Multiverse, just after her battle in Westview, and after she had to defeat her team mate, a Stephen Strange who destroyed his own universe. Now, she continues a search for her love Steve Rogers, guided by the faith that he survives.

Like on Earth 89521, where a quantum virus has consumed the world. Though they were heroes, T’Challa and Peter Parker fight the virus within a lab, working tirelessly with the mind stone to find a cure for their world of walking corpses.

A contrast to Earth 1089, where the Avengers began much earlier than they did on most. In the modern age, Peter Quill takes up the helmet of Ant-man and the moniker Ant-Lord, using both Pym Particles and his celestial powers to protect his world alongside his foster sister Hope and their Avengers team mates.

Some worlds such as 1092 do not need the Avengers at all, for every realm is protected by Hela Odinsdottir and her ally Wen Wu, the former goddess of death learned the value of mercy and became a preserver of life and protector across the nine realms and beyond.

I see worlds linked together by a great web. Some are not so interesting…

“Intriguing!”

Despite what some might say…others are so filled with potential:

“It’s a leap of faith, that’s all it is Miles, a leap of faith.”

But these worlds of the great web are under a misconception, that they understand how the Multiverse works.

“You’re a mistake, if you hadn’t been bit, your Peter Parker would have lived. Instead he died saving you. He would have stopped the particle accelerator before it ever went off…Spot wouldn’t exist, and none of this would have happened. And all this time I have been the only one holding it all together!”

As a great Austrian mortal once said… ‘wrong’…but that’s beside the point, sometimes the failures of one person can help another be the greatest version of themselves they can be.

“Everyone keeps telling me how my story is supposed to go. Nah, I’mma do my own thing.”

A great darkness spreads through this great web, as it does the branches of my trees. The Madame Webs of three universes feel a great strain as their ‘sight’ is pushed to their limits. Jennifer Carpenter falls into the arms of her daughter as she sees the terrifying bearer of the seventh infinity gem. Cassie Webb falls off of her chair, supported by her adopted daughters whilst she predicts the Incursion that will destroy their world. The Madame Web of a realm beyond mortals experiences a vision of doom, knocking the Spider-man she travels alongside into a journey that will further keep him from his great love.

Yet even amongst this great darkness there still remains the crisis of a brave new world.

I see a brave new world, with an uncertain future, new heroes and villains rising, only for a great darkness to cast a terrible shadow on them. I see an army of Kangs, I see masters of evil, I see the gates of Valhalla shattered by a black lantern, I see my prison break…wait, no, the Multiverse…will it be destroyed? Earths consumed by ‘him!’

I see doom!

My name is Loki, son of Odin, formerly the god of mischief but when exposed to my destiny and shown the greatest power in the universe I knew I had to become something else and answer the call to glorious purpose.

I am the god of stories and this is the story of Aeon.

The hero who has given me hope.

New Earth

The blonde haired man ran through the streets, whilst others ran away from danger, he ran towards it. But he didn’t have his camera phone ready, and though he was afraid he certainly wasn’t immobilised by that fear. Images flashed before his eyes of his origin, of the battle of New York that saw five heroes unit against a great threat. But those five heroes were not enough to save everyone in the city, there were still those whom died, and he had been buried amongst those bodies. Blue markings glowed across his skin as a wave of dust swept over him. Red and black fabric covered his body, followed by plates of plates of grey armour and padding, a blue crystal shape shined on his chest, the grey armour converging around it to make a vest. Grey gauntlets slammed over his gloved hands and when boots slid around his sneakers, he jumped upwards. The dust cleared, revealing the helmet sliding over Sven’s face.

Blue eyes glowed through the darkness of the knight style visor, electricity surged around him and a pocket of air appeared on his boots in mid-air. That pocket of air became pressurised, launching the hero forward. The hero Aeon, the spirit that seeped through the gap made by the Tesseract portal in New York, that chose a boy clinging to life amongst rubble, a boy who hadn’t been saved by his heroes. As well as surrounding him with armour that embodied the heroism he adored, his body was capable of enhancing itself through a form of fusion, the indirect fusion of elements in his environment for one. There was a gust of wind and Aeon seemed to launch himself towards the danger.

He didn’t know who the super heroes were, he could hear whispers of fear and apprehension regarding these ‘New Warriors’. The scream the Silver Banshee unleashed knocked these warriors back, and shattered glass around them. Aeon slid along the floor, pulling two people away from the falling shards. As soon as he stopped sliding, a car was thrown towards him. He set his feet, the markings of energy passing up his muscles as he raised his hands and stopped the falling car. After setting the car down, he jumped and drew power from the streets lights around him, that along with the energy he generated, allowed him to form ribbons of energy.

An image flashed before his eyes of a boy in a red hoodie and blue clothes, a boy who unlike him had the courage to act. The ribbons crackled, becoming like webs and with a yell Aeon spread his arms, the ropes he created wrapped around the debris, cars and people caught in the wake of Silver Banshee’s scream. He caught the Squirrel Girl as she fell out of the building she had struck, pulled the distracted Nightthrasher out of harm’s way and caught a rock before it could hit Microbe. Placing the people and the debris down as softly as he could, Aeon looked to Silver Banshee.

She was about to scream again, but Aeon acted first, the image of a brown haired boy’s eyes exploding with red energy flashed in Aeon’s mind. The red blast seemed to form an X pattern that lingered in his thoughts. But the moment, the memory he remembered like a dream had its impact. Energy passed into his eyes, partial fusion with the atmosphere and the very fire in his soul, erupted through the gaps in his visor and struck Silver Banshee with concussive force in her stomach, a punch that blew the wind out of her.

Siobhan Smythe maintained her flight abilities through her scream. With her voice silenced, she fell, expecting to smash her head into the ground. But Aeon caught her before she hit the ground, laying her out on the concrete. He took a few deep breaths, seeing the shadow of Toyman before the mech itself. Aeon jumped back with Banshee, dodging the fist that Toyman imbedded within the ground.

“Fast, not Superman fast, but fast enough, should have left the lady behind,” Toyman said.

“She would have been crushed,” Aeon said.

“I’ve got blood on my hands; I wouldn’t kill my wife though.”

Aeon looked between Toyman and Silver Banshee, which is where he initiated partial fusion with an organic being. It was less mind control and more empathy, he couldn’t control, but he could read connections. There was great rage in Silver Banshee, forever seeking the end of her family curse, but one light, her love for a single man. That single man though could have been anyone, and Aeon couldn’t see Toyman himself to determine if it was true. Aeon initiated fusion with the ground, passing the effect through the buildings ‘scanning’ the area in a way. Money bags, a broken vault, this was all just a robbery; people could still die in a robbery though. Toyman’s mech lunged towards him and Aeon swung his arm forward, a gigantic metal fist slammed into a smaller, armour covered hand. Rock like patterns formed on Aeon’s boot and fist, he yelled with stubborn determination, stepping forward, making the mech step back slightly. The metal of the fist began to break apart with Aeon’s attack, the young man pressed forward until he had devastating the Mech’s hand.

“WHAT?” he yelled.

Winslow Schlott grit his teeth together in frustration. He didn’t want to resort to it, but he had to. Pushing a few buttons on his console, he sent digital signals towards a satellite in deep space.

It caught Clark’s attention; he though was too busy fighting off the constructs of the Green Lantern. He had white side burns and his uniform seemed as if it was made of muscle fibres. Muscles the man wasn’t afraid to flex, raising his ring and creating constructs based on naval machine gun turrets. They hit as hard as turrets too, so Clark felt a small tickle across his skin.

“Listen,” he said.

Suddenly, green chains slammed into Clark, some wrapped around his arms, with large weights forming.

“We’re in space, weight isn’t going to…” Clark was about to say, when a green fist slammed into his face.

“Just listen,” Clark snarled in frustration.

“How are you talking in space, sound shouldn’t be able to travel,” Green Lantern said.

He created jet constructs, attaching the chains to them and carrying Clark through the atmosphere. As he travelled downwards, Clark noticed objects flying into the atmosphere. They had a blue colour scheme not dissimilar to his own. Fighting against the jet constructs, Clark shattered the chains into green pieces. He flew like a missile, matching the speed Green Lantern was flying at. Hal Jordan had a pilot’s instinct, able to calculate trajectory and speed. Clark had the advantage in his senses, he matched Hal’s speed, then surpassed it just a little bit. That small amount allowed him to swerve at the last moment, and then he put the man into a headlock. Constricting the man’s arm and neck simultaneously, a move Diana taught him.

“Enough, I am not your enemy,” Clark said.

“Superman wannabe,” Hal said, gagging slightly as Clark tightened his grip.

“Calm down, I am Superman, just not your Superman, now I’m going to let go and we are going to talk about this,” Clark said.

He did let go, slowly flying backwards away from Green Lantern with his hands raised diplomatically. Green Lantern rubbed his throat, having felt the Superman variant’s speed even with his barrier up.

“To answer your question, it’s less sound and more using my voice to match the frequency of your ring’s communicator,” Clark explained.

“You know how my ring works?” Green Lantern asked.

“I’ve encountered Lanterns before, do the names John Stewart and Guy Gardener mean anything to you?” Clark asked.

“A talk show host and…well I don’t know this guy but he sounds like an annoying guy,” Green Lantern quipped.

“Look if your Justice league exists on this Earth just talk to your Superman, he’s met me, in fact he was flying towards an incident before we met,” Clark said.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry,” Green Lantern chuckled, crossing his arms. “Something tells me that incident will be over shortly!”

It all happened in seconds, seconds during which Ock moved his tentacles towards Ramon, the pincers expanding with a blade sliding out of the tentacle’s eye. Ramon looked towards his chest, where the blade was about to penetrate, his mouth opening, saliva gathering at his mouth as he screamed. Peter’s own senses told him of an impending attack; it slowed time in a way for him. It was like a buzzing deep in his ear followed by an instinct he couldn’t fight. He flipped back just as something burst through the ceiling; debris was launched at Shocker, who blew it back. Lizard’s tail was hit whilst Mysterio was knocked into the wall, his fish bowl head flickered off to reveal his dazed and confused face. Otto grit his teeth together, the machinery in his tentacles groaned, pushing against the man holding the tentacle back.

“About time,” Ramon said.

“Superman,” Peter whispered.

The super hero tilted his head slightly, hearing the presence of another in the room. First though, he focused on the villains. Doctor Octopus’s arms thrust towards him. Superman quickly deflected the tentacle strikes like swords against a shield. He lightly pushed his palm into Otto’s chest, pushing the man back and sending him tumbling into a heap. Otto’s tentacles acted as cushion’s, protecting their master from a potential lethal fall. Shocker fired a blast at fall power, the impact struck Superman, releasing volts across the lab, blowing up computers. Ramon dived for cover as a shockwave blew out the wall behind him.

“GOG DAMN IT FINISH THIS YOU IDIOT!” he yelled.

Lizard tore his own trapped tail off, crawling towards Ramon. Conners leapt towards Ramon, with Superman too distracted by Shocker’s blast and bombs Harry threw at him. The Lizard opened his maw, ready to sink his teeth and claws in.

“DOCTOR CONNERS!” Peter yelled, his hand extended.

Something came out of his wrist, hitting the Lizard’s eyes. Conners rolled across the floor, pulling at the hardened and sticky substance. Peter rolled back into his cover, looking at the sleeves of his shirt. He pulled them away from his wrists, seeing a substance that reminded him of webbing. Ramon was running towards the exit as Superman grabbed Shocker’s arms. The man yelled in pain as Superman crushed his blasters, and at the same time broke his wrists.

“Enough of this,” Harry said, throwing a bomb towards Superman.

The icon grabbed the bomb, looking at it as if it was an annoyance. When the bomb exploded however, it released a green gas. The vapours flew into Superman’s nose, his veins throbbed, turning green as he coughed. Peter watched in shock as Superman fell to his knees, suddenly looking weaker than any human his age would be.

“Did you think we wouldn’t be prepared for you?” Harry asked, climbing off of his glider.

A handle slid out of the left wing, Harry drew out a sword with a glowing green blade. The light illuminated the room, overpowering the flickering lights ruined by the fighting. Peter looked out, seeing a man he thought his friend drag the blade towards Superman.

“You have no idea what is going on do you? What’s been taken from us, what will be taken from us,” Harry stated, putting the sword to Superman’s cheek. “It’s even been taken from you, what were you like before, did you fight like this before?” Harry asked.

Harry tilted his head, as if he had heard someone talking. He raised his sword over his head, ready to bring it down on Superman’s neck.

“You shouldn’t have gotten in our way,” he said.

“Harry stop!”

Peter had stepped out before he realised what he was doing. Their eyes met and Harry’s grip on his sword wavered.

“Don’t,” Peter said.

“Peter,” Harry whispered.

“We’ve never, you and I have never met, but I don’t want to watch you do this,” Peter said.

“I’m, Peter I am your friend,” Harry said.

“Then prove it, step away from Superman,” Peter said.

“You are my friend, I’m fighting for what was taken from us all,” Harry said.

He looked at the blade, his eyes wide in terror as he looked at his reflection and saw an older man’s face grinning at him.

“I don’t want to die again, but I won’t become what they want me to be,” he closed his eyes and threw the sword across the room. “And I want to get back what they’ve taken from you,” Harry said, looking at Peter with sadness in his eyes.

“What they took from me, what do you mean?” Peter asked.

Harry extended his hand, and Peter’s eyes widened. He saw not Harry but someone else in a green suit with a monstrous ‘elf’ like mask.

“Come with me Peter and I’ll show you,” he said.

Peter looked at the kneeling Superman; the most powerful man on the planet had been reduced to a coughing mess. Then he looked at Harry, a man who, instinct told him was his friend. It was more than curiosity that drove Peter to his decision. He knew that Superman’s life probably depended on him going with Harry; he knew he shouldn’t walk away from either of them.

“Okay, let’s go then,” Peter said.

Something was breaking the sound barrier; Aeon could feel it in the air. Partial fusion with the air allowed him to sense and scan just as he could through partial fusion with a building. Winslow had called on something to aid him, a great machine that added to his obsession with toys. Toyman had created a mech within a mech, ejecting out of the armour as Aeon kicked through its legs. Aeon looked up, seeing the box shaped mech slide out its limbs and head, a head that reminded Aeon of a classic transformer’s toy. The blue and red armoured mech removed a cannon from its back, firing towards the ground. Aeon darted around, taking the hits to his armour, feeling the explosive force as he waited at the last second, and initiated partial fusion with the explosive rounds. This way he could absorb their explosive force into his own body, and build up his stores of energy.

People were still in danger around him, but he could sense that others were involving themselves. Squirrel Girl had knocked Toyman into a building before; she knew people were hurt because of her. But she still tried to help, using her agility to pick people up and carry them out of danger. Nightthrasher was using the rockets on his skateboard, catching people whilst Debrii caught the blasts with her own. Speedball, created barriers with his energy, a process that put him through excruciating pain. He had never pushed his powers in such a way before, yet the pain…

The pain was so sweet to him.

Immortal Man hated dying, but he knew there wasn’t much else he could do. So he died, crushed by debris, burned by an explosion, blown apart by a direct hit. But each time he did it was so no one else would. Even as he was trampled to death by people fleeing danger, he knew it was because he had gotten in the way of Toyman. Whether they believed in themselves or not, whether they would be acknowledged for their achievements or not, the New Warriors were heroes.

“You too Microbe,” Aeon said.

The bald man was sitting on the ground with his arms wrapped around his head, trying to block out the sounds. Being a hero had stopped being fun for him in the wake of the relentless assault. He looked up and saw Aeon standing over him. The armoured hero was ignoring everything happening above them. Toyman’s new mech had arrived, folding in midair, arms popping out. A giant V shaped fin formed on its back, whilst two separate pieces of machinery snapped together, creating a cannon that stuck to the bigger mech’s back. The mech Toyman was piloting folded its arms and legs into its chest and slid into an open portion of the larger mech. A helmet snapped over the smaller mech’s head, along with a mouth plate. The open portions of the large mech closed over the smaller mech, revealing an upside down triangle with a T symbol on it.

“MEGA-SUPER DELUXE TOY-MECH GIGANTES!” Toyman yelled over the speakers.

“You do this super hero thing for fun right?” Aeon asked.

“Y-yeah, and the views, hits on our website, but it, it never works out for us,” Microbe said.

“This isn’t about popularity anymore Microbe, people are getting hurt not just because of what you do, but because of what you don’t do,” Aeon explained.

“I’m, I’m not one of the big guys, just another big guy,” Microbe said, patting his belly.

“You have the potential to be the greatest hero of all Microbe, and it’s got nothing to do with who remembers you, I’m standing here asking for help,” Aeon stated.

“My help?” Microbe looked up at Aeon in confusion.

“Please Microbe, help me!”

Aeon extended his hand, speaking with a sincerity Microbe had never heard before. Hearing the cries of people around him, and the build up of energy above them, the screams became a call for action. Microbe took Aeon’s hand and a flash of light consumed them. The insides of Toyman’s mech began to work, motors grinding, gears turning and batteries poured energy through its circuitry. Toyman swung his cannon around several times dramatically, holding it in a classic mech pose.

“DELUXE-NOVA CANNON FIRE!” he yelled.

The dragon head shaped barrel opened, electricity poured out of it before it fired a ball of energy towards the streets below. Toyman narrowed his eyes at the ball of light that flew up to meet his attack. Inside the light, Aeon’s armoured reformed, plates of blue and white that matched Microbe’s costume replaced his grey and red. His knight’s visor shaped into a pair of goggle like lenses.

“I can see it,” Microbe’s voice echoed in Sven’s mind.

He raised his hand, stopping the blast.

“The atoms in Toyman’s attack, all that electricity binding together, I can break those links,” Microbe thought.

The ball of energy dispersed, becoming a rain that poured over the people below. The New Warriors felt the rain of light splashing against their skin, and they weren’t alone either. People began to experience flashes of memories that weren’t theirs. Lives mundane without the presence of super heroes. One man remembered seeing on the news something about a man in Steel armour and laughing about it before getting on with his life. A man and his family remembered seeing weapons from across the world floating in the air, wondering of mutants were somehow responsible. A woman felt the rain and remembered a family she never had, watching in the stands as a giant of sand beat someone in a red and blue suit.

“What we lost, I can see that too, adventures we never got to have,” Microbe said.

“We, we really were heroes,” Squirrel girl whispered.

“My deaths, they aren’t for nothing,” Immortal Man muttered.

Matt Murdock stepped out of the courthouse, gripping his head, feeling waves of memories. Having lunch with Foggy and debating legal ethics, the kiss of a woman, aching knuckles and water in his hair. He wasn’t seeing memories, but hearing, feeling, the sounds and sensations down to the moisture in the air on a particular day. Matt’s vision blurred and he shook his head, not quite there yet, still believing he was just a man.

“Winn,” Siobhan muttered.

He own memories changed, she recalled a wasted life, a man she pushed away.

“It isn’t over yet,” Toyman snarled.

He split his cannon apart, then reassembled them, holding the handle he had made with both hands and standing in another classic mecha pose as a massive blade extended out of the handle.

“COLLECTABLE ORIGINAL PACKAGE SWORD!” he yelled.

The Toyman mech flew down towards Aeon, swinging the sword down. Aeon caught the blade, his body standing firm even as a small shockwave blew into the ground beneath him. He seemed to be standing in midair, using microbes to support himself. The armour around his hand cracked, indicating some damage. Toyman smirked, then widened his eyes in horror as the blade began to crack.

“What, my sword,” he looked at his instruments. “Structure compromised? How?” he gasped, feeling his small mech disconnect from the main one.

Corrosive germs had eaten away at the metal, controlled through Aeon’s enhancement of Microbe’s powers. The bigger mech slammed into the ground and Toyman grit his teeth together in defeat. He had nothing left to hit the heroes with.

Suddenly, a spear blade pierced through his chest. Toyman looked down at the blade in shock, dying just as a blast came out of the spear. The blast hit Aeon, throwing him into the ground below. Black tendrils ripped apart Toyman’s smaller mech, revealing the man’s limp body impaled on Magog’s spear.

“They’re compromised,” Magog said.

“What do we do then?” Venom asked, landing with Magog and the other members of the Elite.

“Only one thing to do to settle it,” Manchester said.

He put his hands to his head, the people in the area fell to their knees, feeling his presence in their minds.

“Our memories, he’s trying to change them,” Squirrel Girl said.

Microbe and Aeon split apart, cracks spreading across Aeon’s armour and exposing his left eye.

“No, I don’t want to forget my life…”

“A life that was never supposed to be and was never going to be, trust me mate, I’m not the bad guy here,” Manchester said.

I’m not the bad guy!

Matt heard the words in his mind, felt the guilt well up inside. He heard them again and again, feeling the resolve.

Come on dad never give up!

His fists clenched, even as his vision began to fade. He felt the bag on his fists, heard the bones of his knuckles crack and heal each time. The world turned black, save for the sounds, which formed the images he could see, ripples like water across the pond.

This is for you dad!

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU TAKE IT FROM US!” Microbe yelled.

He directed his powers on the telepath, making Black’s face go green as he fell to his knees. Manchester vomited, clutching his throat. The people on the street regained their bearings, Aeon rose to a knelt position, still need time to regain his strength.

“Everyone, they work for the man who has taken everything from us, they’re the ones who…”

BANG!

Microbe’s words were cut off, he was so distracted trying to warn everyone, he could do little against a bullet moving fast through the air. Deadpool twirled the gun in his hand, huffing as everyone looked at Microbe in shock.

“What, he was the most powerful, he’s got to die to make the fights more interesting,” he said callously.

“That felt, wrong,” Venom muttered.

“All right that’s enough,” Peacemaker said, raising his own gun. “You’ve all broken the peace and we’re here to resto…”

The man in the helmet was suddenly knocked back by a punch that shook even his head. Blood dripped onto the floor from cuts on Matt’s knuckles. The sounds those drops made, gave him images to see. He heard the hammer of Deadpool’s gun click back and flipped, avoiding the merc’s bullets. Matt landed with both of his fists raised, like a boxer.

His empty white eyes narrowed in fury. He wasn’t just Matt Murdock anymore, he was possessed by a daring courage and rage, a devil he was ready to unleash. Aeon looked at Matt and didn’t see the lawyer, he saw a man in a red suit with devil horns on his mask.

“Daredevil!” he whispered.

“Listen to me, there’s more going on than you know,” Aeon said.

“They know, they just don’t care!”

A metal beam slammed into the ground, inches from where Magog was standing. The Elite member narrowed his eyes as another beam slammed down, forming an X between his team and the renegades. Aeon looked up and widened his eyes slightly, surprised by the arrival of a man floating in the air. He had a white cloak floating behind him, matching the white and black outfit he wore. Metal marbles floated around the man, the same material as the helmet he wore. His face was young, but the strands of hair poking out of the helmet were shockingly white. Aeon’s vision flashed, seeing an older man wearing a red helmet and black outfit, then the same younger man again but in a yellow and blue jacket. Sven looked at the version of the man and spoke one name he knew him by.

“Magneto!”

Next Chapter 5: Xtreme Measures

Chapter Text

Avengers X Justice League: Kingdom Come

Chapter 5: Extreme Measures

Bruce opened his eyes, sixty seconds of micro sleep and everything seemed to be different. The bat cave was illuminated by the bat computer. The bat shaped (go figure) screen displayed camera feeds, Bugle-Tube live streams, satellite images and other monitors of law enforcement, weather reports and media both corporate and independent.

Energy fields had been fluctuating across the world, but that was small next to the break in at Star Labs and the report that Magneto was engaging in combat with the Elites. Bruce looked up from his work, feeling Ace brush against his hand. The German shepherd was trying to get his attention, get him to focus on something besides the work. Gotham was still ridden, drenched in what could never be fully driven away. That was why Bruce expanded the mission even as he aged, drawing in partners who could continue the fight, even if he was incapacitated. The heavy boots of his exo-frame clicked against the floor of the cave and the gears of the machines running up the outside of his spine whirled. He passed the displays of his old costumes, his first ‘rubber’ (in actuality a high density material designed by Lucius Fox that added an additional layer over Bruce’s Kevlar) black suit with the yellow utility belt and the black bat over the yellow circle. Following that was the more defined ‘muscle suit’ built like a Greek statue, emphasising muscles (everyone made fun of the nipples) including the later grey variant and the variant with silver highlights. Then there was the most recent suit Bruce had had designed, but it was more of a young person’s suit, a black body suit that contained the best technology Wayne Enterprises had to offer. Designed to increase speed and strength, to house additional weapons beyond what the belt could contain, retractable claws on the gloves fingers, various vision spectrums in the cowl which was built with a special material to cover even the mouth, making the wearer look as if he was the suit, then there was the aspect Bruce was most proud of, doing away with the cape for rocket boots and retractable wings. The inner area of the wings was red, matching the sharp red bat symbol on the suit’s chest.

Bruce though couldn’t wear that suit, not with his age or his body in the condition it was in. He walked to the massive pad deploying parts of armour he had designed to accommodate his aged body without putting a strain on his heart. Stylistically it was like an armour version of his original costume, with extra plating around the neck and gauntlets. The plates and fabric was put on top of him, obscuring the machine he used to walk. He felt the cowl fix to his armoured collar, then he slid the wings out, larger and less graceful than the more advanced suit, the wings were more mechanical in appearance. For supersonic flight though, Bruce would need the bat wing. He imagined the dry comment of an old friend, someone who always knew what to say in certain situations whether it was illuminating wisdom or a sarcastic remark.

‘Sorry Alfred,’ Bruce thought of his old father figure.

Ace was a godsend, but even he couldn’t fill the void left in the mansion. The bat wing flew out of the back of Wayne manor, Bruce typed out the frequency for the emergency response division. Just in case, an extreme possibility needed an extreme response.

Westchester County

Children walked to their classes through the corridor of an old English mansion. Some of them though would go into classes without teachers in them. In the green houses, a white haired woman looked over her plants, and then looked at the blinking X on her bracelet. Likewise in the garage next to the main building, a brown haired man with red shades looked up from his work, he dropped the spanner and the modifications he was making to his bike and grabbed the grey and red visor by his tool kit. Above the mansion, a blonde haired man was flying in the sky, his metal wings fully stretched out as the wind swept through his hair. His body built for flight, he heard the beeping of the X on his belt. On the campus grounds there was a small garden plot with statues, one of which was a woman with scales on her face. At the foot of the woman knelt praying was a man with blue skin and hair, a prehensile tail and three fingers on each of his hands indicated that he was different from other people.

Underneath the mansion was an entire subbasement dedicated to the mission those in the mansion had dedicated themselves to. Guiding a new generation of people born with special abilities, mutants. In a gymnasium, a purple haired woman swung the wooden sword she was holding, then a purple, butterfly aura appeared over her head. It responded to the psychic call, one felt by a woman in a room that was behind an X shaped door. She was sitting in a spherical chamber with a silver helmet resting on her head. The red haired woman was wearing a black uniform with a yellow X across the chest and back. In a lab, a brown haired man removed his glasses as his skin turned blue and his hair and muscles grew.

Moments later they were all gathered in a hanger near a futuristic plane based on an SR-71. They were all dressed in the black and yellow uniforms. Jean Grey, Scott Summers also known as Cyclops, Warren Worthington the third AKA Angel, Kurt Wagner AKA Nightcrawler, Elizabeth ‘Betsy’ Braddock AKA Psylocke, Ororo Munroe AKA Storm and Hank McCoy AKA Beast. Together they were the students and X-men of Charles Xavier, a British man who rolled into the hanger in his pinstripe suit, sat atop his wheelchair.

“This is about the energy fields isn’t it?” Jean asked.

“Indeed, we’ve received a call for help, both from the League and the mayor’s office, an incident has broken up downtown and considering that Doreen Green and her friends are mutants, the mayor thought it prudent that we get involved,” Charles explained.

“The New Warriors have been reckless, but never outright criminal in their activities,” Storm said, speaking in her Kenyan twang.

“Apparently there was some sort of incident with Toyman and Silver Banshee,” Nightcrawler added, likewise speaking with his native German accent.

“I’ve been monitoring these energy tears, the mansion’s equipment is good but I would be able to get a more thorough understanding of it if I was to be at the locations in person,” Beast explained.

“To which you will have help in that regard, for Batman hasn’t just called us,” Charles said.

New York-Baxter Foundation building

“Nightmares, you truly believe they were nightmares?”

“Brother in law, I know you’ve got multiple PHD’s but I highly doubt one of them is a psychology degree.”

“Well…”

“No, no, you are not telling me that you double as a shrink…actually that makes sense, considering you try to be the therapist every time you and sis have an argument.”

“We don’t argue that often, look you nearly burned down your bedroom and…”

“I KNOW REED!”

Johnny Storm looked away from the man looking at him. He turned his head and looked in the mirror across the living room, showing his face. Short brown hair, and a beard, he considered getting rid of it. Maybe then whatever he had seen in his dreams wouldn’t happen. Across from him sat a man in the same white and black uniform he wore. Once they wore blue, but with the expansion of their family, they now wore white, not as the Fantastic Four but the Future Foundation family. There was a subtle vibration in the room as heavy feet stomped across the carpet of the futuristic living room. A short but bulky, rock hided man walked in, he was wearing the same uniform but without sleeves or gloves.

“Something wrong?” Benjamin Grimm asked.

“I think you know what’s wrong,” Johnny said.

“Oh you mean your sex dream,” Ben said.

“A bald lady peeling my skin off is not a sex dream Ben,” Johnny said.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking it’s a taste of things to come, look Xavier doesn’t have a sister, ergo it ain’t possible for his evil twin to kill you,” Ben said.

“It happened Ben, it happened, I felt the fear, the panic, the anger as this red and black suited guy ran his mouth.”

“Sounds like you know what it’s like to be annoyed now,” Ben shrugged.

“I’ve been thinking there might have been more to Johnny’s dream than we thought,” Reed said.

“What do you mean?” Johnny asked.

“I read an hypothesis by a doctor Stephen Strange, a gifted surgeon but something of a pariah within the medical community when a few years ago, after narrowly avoiding a car collision, he began talking about alternate realities and parallel worlds,” Reed explained.

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Ben asked.

“An alternate reality is another world entirely,” a small and young voice spoke from the doorway.

A blonde haired girl walked into the room, wearing a blue shirt with a four on her chest, she was barely older than ten and was playing on a DS.

“Parallel worlds exist within the same space as another world, sharing the same time and calendar, the same people in it but with the slightest difference. Alternate realities though are not divergent from specific events, they exist with their own history,” the girl explained.

“That’s my Valeria,” Reed said proudly.

“That’s our Valeria stretcho,” Ben said, lifting the giggling girl onto his shoulder.

“Someone has been looking over daddy’s work,” another voice spoke from the doorway.

The girl smiled at her mother, both having the same blonde hair. Susan Storm had her arms crossed, looking at her brother in concern.

“Yeah it had an impact, it felt like, like I was actually dying,” he said.

“Everything dies, but uncle Johnny isn’t going to die now is he mommy, daddy?” Valeria asked.

“No honey he isn’t going to die, in the dream he didn’t have us with him, so long as we’re together nothing can stop us,” Reed said confidently.

“Yeah, no bald chick is going to skin our Johnny, I’ll clobber her before that happens and if she gets through me well nothing can stop your mom,” Ben explained, softly swinging the girl by her arms.

“Speaking of clobbering things, we’ve gotten a call honey,” Sue said to Reed.

“Concerning the energy tears, I have been wanting to analyse them on the field, all right Ben get the car ready,” Reed said.

“Sure thing, just let me say goodbye to my two girls, you,” Ben placed Valeria on the floor with a smile. “You listen to your aunt Alicia when we’re gone,” he said.

Sue walked over to her daughter, pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead.

“See you soon,” she said.

Reed Richard’s suddenly stretched his arms, bringing his daughter into a hug of his own.

“Stay safe my little angel,” he said.

Johnny Storm smiled at his family, maybe they were right, maybe there really was nothing to worry about.

Same destination-different Earth

Peter felt strange, but not at all unhappy to be swinging with this group of ‘Young Avengers’. He was web slinging, parkouring over the rooftops whilst Ms Marvel was using her own floating platform. She was unsteady and clumsy, wavering a little in her flight path, but she would accomadate (and most likely try to show off too) with her own bit of parkour on additional platforms. Kate Bishop was using a repulsor cycle, the latest in Stark Tech transportation (that would never be used by the public).

“So you were visited by an old spider lady, who told you that there’s more to this than just three missing heroes?” Kate asked.

“Pretty much,” Spider-man said.

“And she showed you visions, of other Spider-ladies?”

“I’d rather forget that!”

“You might want to get on top of that branding, before the whole ‘Spider-hero’ thing gets out of hand,” Kate said.

“I think it’s great, like a legacy, like me, Miss Danvers and Miss Rambeau,” Ms Marvel said.

“Kamala you didn’t meet your supposed mentor until after you took on the costume,” Cassie said, projecting her voice through the ear pieces the team were given.

Their approach was witnessed by Tony, Strange, Banner, Bucky, Rhodey, Torres, Quill, Monica, Jennifer, Sam and Shang-Chi.

“You know I could have teleported them here,” Strange said.

“This gave them the chance to get to know one another, to get in synch with each other,” Sam said.

Monica looked up at the tower they stood outside of. It was as tall as the old Avenger’s tower, but was an older building dating back to the 60s.

“What is this place?” Shang asked.

“The Baxter foundation, a think tank that supports gifted youths, like beyond Stark levels of intelligence, no offence,” Monica explained.

“Oh none taken, I’ve sent a few grants to it here and there, it was founded in memoriam of a gifted but rather foolish scientist named Reed Richards. He attempted to launch his own rocket with his wife, her brother and his best friend, but the ship blew up in mid orbit,” Stark explained.

“That’s a callous way of putting it even for you Stark,” Strange said.

“I remember now, Ben Grimm was an incredible pilot, he even has a course named after him,” Rhodey said.

“I’ve read a few conspiracy theories about the launch, they range from deliberate sabotage from the Russians or our own government, right up there with the four of them being lost in space. They’re the most famous missing people in the world next to you,” Jennifer explained to Quill.

“If they are out there we never met, heck I’ve met a Russian cosmonaut dog,” he said.

Strange lowered his head slightly, remembering the name and his encounter with the man. Ms Marvel landed clumsily by Monica, with Kate landing her bike with a ‘crunch’ on the sidewalk. Peter was more graceful with his landing, going closer to Strange than to Stark, much to Rhodey and Quill’s surprise.

“They were inseparable once,” Rhodey said.

“I remember on Titan the kid was really respectful to him, holding on to every word,” Quill muttered.

“Some people grow out of their heroes I guess,” Rhodey sighed.

“Or they realise who their real daddy’s were,” Quill muttered.

“What was that?” Rhodey looked at him strangely.

“Nothing, so we’re all here why?” Quill asked.

“Just a second, where’s Lang?” Stark asked.

Suddenly, Cassie grew to her full size, making Kamala and Kate yelp at her sudden appearance. The girl slid back her helmet, panting for breath.

“Okay, I’d like to remind everyone, Ants are real fun to ride, but they’re not that fast,” she said.

Stark shook his head, walking into the building.

“Oh, okay, I suppose he’s leading us now,” Torres teased Sam.

They followed Stark into the modest lobby of the building, trying to ignore the shocked, suspicious and awe filled looks they were getting from the people waiting for appointments. Stark had stopped near a photograph, showing four people standing in space suits. The lenses of Peter’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the brief scowl his old ‘mentor’ had. Stark abruptly walked away from the photo and made his way to the desk. Stephen and Peter briefly stopped at the photo, with Strange not recognising the face of the apparent leader of the group. He had more Spaniard features, the only thing he shared with his 838 counterpart was the white side burns. There was a blonde haired woman and man, the latter appeared to be the youngest.

“Benjamin Grimm, best pilot of his time,” Rhodey said, looking at the man standing beside Richard’s.

A plaque on the frame read ‘In Memorium: Dr Reed Richards, Colonel Benjamin Grimm, Dr Susan Storm, Jonathan Storm.’ Kamala muttered a brief prayer, getting Jennifer’s attention.

“They did die a long time ago kid,” she said.

“It’s still sad,” Kamala retorted.

“It is,” Jennifer nodded her head and looked to Bruce.

He was following close behind Stark, pointing and smiling at some fans who whistled to him. Tony got everything sorted with the receptionists and the group made their way to the elevators.

“I wouldn’t try it Bruce,” Jennifer said, when her cousin tried to come in.

“Hulk hate stairs,” he muttered, stomping away.

Rhodey and Tony both already knew the lift wouldn’t support their weight. Their armour was a little lighter than previous versions they had worn. James’s new suit had a similar look to it that Tony’s had had during the time heist, silver legs and arms like muscles out of his black chest plate and ‘pants’. His helmet though had additional devices on the side of it, targeting lasers, whilst on his back was a gatling gun and missile launcher of Stark design. The gauntlets too were bulkier, housing guns and stun batons. Flying upwards, Rhodey got a better look at Tony’s armour. It was probably the slimmest he had ever designed, the helmet having a different shape to any other helmet that he had worn, being almost oval in shape with his gauntlets having yellow fingers.

“What’s up with you and the kid?” Rhodey asked.

“You mean Spider-man? You think there’s something wrong?” Tony asked.

They flew up the side of the building, making their way to the rooftop. When they landed, Tony’s helmet slid aside, revealing his surprised expression.

“He’s always wasted his time a little with his vigilante activities, still I failed to properly guide him, like I failed with a lot of things,” Tony explained.

He went to the stairs and Rhodey was about to follow when he heard a ringing in his ears.

“Rhodes, Colonel Rhodes!”

“What the hell, am I talking, in my head?” Rhodey asked without moving his mouth.

“It’s me Arthur, I apologise for the intrusion colonel but I wanted to discuss something with you. As you know Martian’s are capable of telepathy!”

“I’m being reminded of that now,” Rhodey groaned.

“I’m sorry, I’ll apologise to the others too but I have read their minds, they all have very strong wills, but I was still able to get a general sense of themselves and their egos. The same though didn’t occur with Tony,” the Martian explained.

“He was a little too honest about his failings,” Rhodey conceded, looking at where his friend once stood. “Tony’s always kept the good stuff for himself, so it’s highly likely he’s just developed tech to block your telepathy…”

“But I don’t need telepathy to know you are feeling doubtful Colonel Rhodes,” Arthur said.

“We’re all keeping an eye on one another, try to worry more about yourself, are you sure you want to go to the devil’s lair?”

“Believe it or not colonel Rhodes, I’ve faced worse than Valentina!”

The Martian walked into the former Avenger’s tower in his human form. Upon getting in though, he was immediately met with resistance. Security doors slammed shut behind him, the receptionists took cover and guards in tactical gear came out. A squadron of men with high grade assault rifles, or riot gear.

“FREE…”

The commander’s words were cut short as Arthur rushed forward. He phased through the guards, knocking them into one another with a single ‘gentle’ swing of his arm. His skin hardened into green scales as bullets flew towards him, red beams came out of his eyes and cut through the rifles. He phased his fist through a shield, punching the man behind it before he stretched his arm, whipping the guards around him and throwing them across the lobby. Within seconds, Arthur had knocked the guards unconscious. He straightened out his coat and his priest collar and made his way to the elevator.

“Apologies for the mess,” he said to the receptionist when he poked his head out from underneath his desk.

The young man squeaked when he saw all the groaning soldiers on the ground.

Earth 1

S.T.A.R labs had been essential in finding the first dimensional tear. It was outside of Metropolis, fitting considering that the city was missing its hero. The league would do all it could to get Superman back. Batman used a line to slide down to the floor from the bat wing. He clicked a few buttons on his gauntlet, sending the bat wing on a flight path with its autopilot. Nearly all of the League was there, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, J’onn and Green Lantern. Cyborg and Atom were looking at the subtle distortion in the air, just inches from the highway where an A.R.G.U.S road block had been set up. Ryan was sitting on Victor’s shoulder, looking through a scope that he shrunk when he was finished with it.

“It’s definitely vibrating at a different frequency,” he said.

“Yet still manifesting in the same place, maybe sound might jog it open,” Cyborg proposed.

“Too much maybe, we’re not dealing with an exact science here,” Ryan said.

In a burst of gold lightning, Flash appeared.

“Sorry, sorry, Snart and his friends were causing trouble again, CCPD also had to respond to a dead body, another strange one,” Barry held up a case file, giving it to Victor, who scanned it with the red sensor on his forehead. “I’ve got to get this back thanks,” the speedster abruptly took the file and ran away.

Cyborg projected a hologram from his chest, recreating the crime scene in the alleyways of Central City. He recreated everything, down to the scuffs in the brick walls, the way trash had been spread across the floor and the unceremoniously dumped body. Though the victim’s face was bloody, the man was Latino, with long dark hair and wearing his casuals.

“Taken from home?” Diana suggested.

“Not every job has a dress code, fingers indicate an engineering job, a message was left in the victim’s blood,” Bruce said, pointing at an area on the floor near the victim.

‘Bet you wish you had the Vibes now!’ was what had been left by the victim.

Barry reappeared, sliding between Aquaman and Hal.

“DNA results came back, no match on any database so far,” he said.

“Is this our jurisdiction or CCPD’s?” Hal asked.

“We’ve had similar strange murders in Gotham, this may be connected,” Batman said.

“He’s not wrong, similar data to what we’re seeing here was found, but it was far more controlled,” Ryan said.

“Artificial as if produced deliberately, whilst this dimensional rift is more ‘wild’,” Cyborg said.

“WILD RIFT! JINX!” Hal and Barry yelled.

“So now we’ve got a silly nickname for it, what do we do about it, tear it open and threaten all of space and time, or close it up?” Arthur asked.

“And risk losing Kal-El,” Diana said.

“No,” Bruce said firmly.

“I could try reaching out, using my telepathy,” J’onn suggested.

“I hope we aren’t too late,” Diana muttered.

New Earth

Clark flew as fast he could, feeling the weakness he had not felt since his fight with Bruce. The strange, alien feeling of sickness in his blood. He landed sluggishly in S.T.A.R. labs, looking down at the fallen icon of this world.

“Superman,” Clark whispered.

He blew the remaining vapours of Kryptonite gas away, moving to help the older man. As Clark knelt by the man, he looked through the walls and saw someone hiding.

“Come out of there,” he commanded.

A dark haired Latino man cautiously crept out of his hiding place, holding his hands up.

“I don’t know if you’re supposed to be another protégé of Superman’s, but thank goodness you’ve come, they were madmen, they wrecked my lab for no reason,” Ramon said.

It was a lie that Clark could see through the man’s chest and hear with his ears. But his priority had to be the older Superman. He was about to pick Superman up when he heard a sonic boom. Clark looked in the direction the boom had come from. Before seeing what had made them, he determined from hearing alone that the boom was actually two sonic booms happening together. They were small, feminine forms moving across the sky like missiles towards Clark. Then there was a third sonic boom, moving slower but still fast enough for a jet. Clark focused on the two women flying towards him, noting the symbol on one’s chest. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the black hair on one, the oldest of the two women.

She had a blue mesh suit on with red highlights on her shirt and a red cape. The House of El symbol was emblazed on her chest as she aimed a punch at Clark. He raised his hand, catching the fist, the force of her punch and her flight was enough to push them away from Superman. The second woman flew over the older one, giving Clark a better look at her. She had blonde hair cut into a bob style, she wore a red skirt and a white shirt with blue gloves. Her red cloak was held on by a gold buckle on her shoulder, it joined partially with the ‘P’ outline on her right breast. She released a flash of heat vision before Clark could even speak. He blocked it with his hand, dodging the ‘Superwoman’s’ follow up punch. Both women moved in synch with one another, punching and kicking at Clark. He took a blue boot to the head, and grabbed the Superwoman in an arm lock that Diana had taught him. As he prevented the younger woman from attacking, he looked over at Superman and saw a dog sniffing at the super hero. It was a white furred dog with a red cloak attached to its collar.

“You have a super dog?” Clark remarked.

“Focus on us mister,” ‘Powergirl’ said, managing to punch Clark in the cheek.

“Listen ladies, if you’re allied with Superman then you’ve gotten the wrong idea,” Clark said.

“Kryptonite all over the lab, and you standing over our father,” Superwoman said.

“Father?” Clark gasped in shock.

He stepped back, avoiding Superwoman’s punch. Both of the women had gotten a little paler in the past few seconds of the fight, indicating the remnants of the Kryptonite were affecting them too. Clark was overwhelmed by the presence of the two Kryptonian women, both stunning and relentless like Lois.

“ENOUGH!”

The yell generated a small shockwave, and both women and Clark were flung off of the ground a few inches. They looked towards Superman, who was standing with shaking knees. Clark moved quickly, flying at his older counterpart, grabbing hold of him and ascending to the skies. He flew faster and faster, noticing the dog flying beside them, barking frantically in concern for its master. Clark adjusted his direction, closest to the side of the planet the sun was facing. He pushed Superman’s body, feeling the distant rays of the sun himself. The older man’s opened his arms as if embracing the light. His green veins gradually faded and his tan returned. The older Superman looked at Clark as his daughters and dog flew up behind the Man of Steel. Clark’s eyes went from Superman to the two women. He felt Superman’s hand on his shoulder, a gesture that made Powergirl and Superwoman stand down enough for them to fly back into the atmosphere.

“Clark, meet Karen and Martha Lane-Kent, or Lara and Cir-El,” Superman smiled, laughing as the dog brushed against his head. “And this is Krypto,” he stroked the dog’s head.

“Two children, two daughters, how?”

“I assume you’re familiar with the process,” Superman smirked as his daughters shook their heads in embarrassment.

“No I mean…my Lois, I’m so glad that she’s…but I’m…”

“You’re afraid that she’ll die if she gives birth yes…I know because I too have felt that fear, but let me ease that burden Clark, yes, she beats the odds because that’s what our Lois does isn’t it?” Superman asked, touching his counterpart’s shoulder in encouragement.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Karen asked.

“This isn’t over, we need to go right now and find Clark’s allies,” Superman said, switching almost instantly to the tone of a disciplined leader.

“That’s important, but I think there’s something else going on in S.T.A.R. labs,” Clark said.

“Well, luckily, Superman now can be in two places at once,” Superman smirked and Clark smiled back.

Downtown New York

Sven stood with his new allies, the New Warriors who grieved their dead team mate, and Daredevil. He had always wanted to meet the devil of Hell’s kitchen. Though this was a completely different man, there was something about his spirit that Aeon could sense. Faith in his god and the system he had dedicated his education and employment to, and the fight. His stance, the way he carried his fists and the thumping of his heart, even the currents of his mind which Sven could sense were those of a man who would not back down. The rage, the devil inside of him would be unleashed, justice and all that was right would be preserved and evil punished. He was the good guy. Then Aeon looked up at Magneto, a name that echoed in Sven’s soul.

It had weight, and perhaps would have weight in his world. There was great evil in this man, yet great good too, the potential to be both a saviour and a destroyer. Regret, anger, love and hope were all within the bearing and the way the man carried himself even in the air. That was what was underneath the magnetic currents and waves that Magneto used to levitate as well as protect himself, generating fields that would block any projectiles the Squad unleashed on him. His eyes too were a reminder of everything Arthur had taught Sven about body language, this wasn’t a man who would easily back down.

“We are not going to fight here,” Aeon said.

“Says you,” Peacemaker retorted.

“I left my plastic bullets at home, I’m sure you did too Smith, it’s too early for us to get killed off especially since our respective movies and show (awaiting the Blu-ray release and Season 2 release Gunn) were so popular,” Deadpool explained.

“If we get Magneto’s helmet off then this fight is over,” Magog said.

“We’re not fighting, full stop,” Aeon snarled, glaring at Magog.

“That’s a terrorist you’ve got on your side,” the gold armoured ‘hero’ replied.

“This man was a hero, and you just killed him,” Nightthrasher said.

“He’s right, Microbe saved everyone and you repaid him by gunning him down and joking about it,” Squirrel Girl said.

“Is this how hero’s get treated New York?” Daredevil asked, raising his voice so that others could hear.

He heard the people around them all whispering their doubts of the new heroes. The heroes called the Elite Battalion and who used extreme measures to protect their ideals.  Even if it clearly meant they had to kill those who also bore the name hero.

“If Microbe’s efforts didn’t earn him at least the most basic of rights, then what are the rest of our lives worth to them?” Matt asked the right questions as he had been taught to.

Being a lawyer was as about reminding people of the facts in the most dramatic way and making people see even the clearest of cases in a new light. He ‘saw’ much more than he ever could when his eyes worked, he could hear every tense muscle, every whisper, and every tooth grind of the Battalion members. Even the magnetic waves had a ‘thrum’ to them as he heard Magneto look towards Magik, the waves intersecting with the brim stone smell coming from her.

“A mutant dead at the hands of those you call allies, you should be ashamed of yourself Rasputin,” Magneto said.

“They should have surrendered and let us kill the villains,” Magik said.

“And will you attempt to kill me?” Magneto asked.

Her heart beat shifted, indicating her fear and her doubt. She took a few steps forward, brandishing her soul sword. At first she pointed it at the New Warriors and Magneto, and Aeon braced himself, Daredevil though could sense before him where Ilyana’s allegiance was shifting. She swung her sword, creating a portal between herself and her old team mates.

“What are you doing Magik?” Manchester demanded.

“Mutant and proud,” she smirked.

“Go now,” Magneto commanded.

The exhaust of a car suddenly slammed into Immortal Man and Squirrel Girl, carrying them through into the portal. Debrii and Night Thrasher followed with Speedball, Aeon’s eyes were facing the portal, but he was looking at Microbe’s body.

“We need to go,” Daredevil whispered, touching Aeon’s shoulder.

Matt walked through first and Aeon felt Magneto floating behind him. He narrowed his eyes at the master of magnetism.

“I’m trusting you to help us,” Sven said.

“Come with me and I will tell you more about this world than you can learn from these supposed heroes,” Magneto said.

Aeon followed, hesitantly but still with the determination to learn the truth about this world. As the portal disappeared though, Superman flew to the scene with his daughter beside him. He looked down at the destruction on the scene, his eyes meeting Magog’s.

“What have you done?” Superman demanded.

“What I had to, they’ve come Kal-El, they’ve come here in defiance of Gog’s will, and you know as well as I do that they won’t be coming here alone,” Magog said, slamming his staff into the ground. “Heroes of Earth, the time has come,” he declared.

Gotham City

Temporary journal-July

As I roll into Gotham I can see how unfamiliar it is. Gotham has always had its unique structure, its an old city and that comes with a lot of changes in architecture and culture. But walking the streets I see Grecian statues standing tall, gothic landscapes, familiar dirty streets and buildings like what can be found in New York. But there’s a familiarity as I walk the streets, a feeling that this is Gotham, that its soul is still intact despite the landscape. Someone tried to mug me when I got off the train, he was wearing a red and black balaclava, part of the ‘two-face’ gang.

After a little scouting I learn about the crime life, people talk in front of the homeless, they don’t see them as a threat. I even took a few donations for silence, some hits, a little cash and product. The cash helps, I can’t afford to be picky in this new world. But the product they give me is telling, ‘slappers’ they call them. Similar in structure to nicotine patches, they contain a chemical I’m not familiar with but the voices all tell me about venom, a substance that enhances physical strength. Wayne-Tech is ever present, a pillar of the city but there are other schemes, the Grayson foundation for orphanages, the Oracle shelter.

Right now there are deeper questions I need to ask, and I’m reminded of Nashton, he knew before me that there were more Earths. So I go to see if I’m not the only one haunted by the voices of my other selves.

Bruce closed his internal journal, no pen, no paper, just his thoughts cut off (he hoped) from the other Batmen. He stashed his bat suit amongst the garbage outside the prison, changed into a cleaner set of clothes and went to Blackgate. There had apparently been a big transfer f criminals from a facility in Arkham to Blackgate.

“I’m here to see Edward Nashton,” Bruce said to the reception guard.

He gave him the fake ID, Adam Malone would be seeing an infamous prisoner, and Bruce had in his head the questions he would answer as well as the countdown of the time it would take for the prison authority to identify Adam Malone as someone who doesn’t exist.

“We don’t have an Edward Nashton here,” the guard said.

“Try Edward Nygma!”

The grey and black suited Batman’s voice echoed in Bruce’s ear and despite how ridiculous he found it, he spoke the name.

“Oh Riddler, sure, go ahead,” the guard said.

‘So he calls himself the Riddler and his real name is Edward Nygma?’ Bruce asked, half scoffing.

“Villains can be notoriously clever in how they use their true names to shape their criminal identities,” the bulky, grey and blue suited Batman said.

People were going in to see family, packing themselves into the visitor compartments with sad expressions, the expressions of people who had made mistakes or had become victims of mistakes in the justice system. Either way they didn’t belong amongst some of the other prisoners, whilst a husband spoke with his wife, a gang boss spoke in code with a visiting lieutenant about product shipments. A prisoner and his girlfriend shared as tender a moment as they could with glass between them, whilst a man with roman numerals on his bald head was pulled away from his phone by three guards, clearly unhappy with his lawyer.

“I TOLD YOU JULY TWENTIETH! NEVER BE LATE AGAIN!” the ‘Calendar man’ said.

Bruce sat in his cubicle, watching as a tall and slim brown haired man was guided in by a guard. Of course he was older than Nashton, despite their physical differences there was an arrogance in Nygma’s eyes that made him look far more disturbed than his younger counterpart. His beard was slightly dirty, but his face expressive as he sat and took the phone.

“Malone, knew a Malone once, loved his matches,” Nygma said.

“Hello Riddler,” Bruce said.

“I don’t go by that name anymore sir,” Nygma deepened his voice mockingly. “I’m Batman you see, don’t let those pretenders out there fool you, they may have many faces, and voices, but there’s only one!”

“This may have been a mistake,” the Batman with nipples on his suit said.

“A waste of time,” snarled the black armoured Batman.

“Riddle me this then,” Bruce muttered, unsure of himself at first.

But as he spoke he felt more familiar with what he was saying, as if his voice was changing too to match the person who spoke the words. Like armour he felt a silhouette around him, of a Batman who dared to riddle the Riddler.

“I see without seeing, to me darkness is as clear as daylight, what am I?” Bruce asked.

It was as if a switch went off in Nygma’s head. His lips narrowed, stretched even into a manic grin.

“Blind as a bat,” he chuckled. “Well, well, when did you arrive?” Riddler asked.

“A few days ago, flight got diverted,” Bruce said.

“Code, clever, but not as smart as me of course, then again I am both Batman and the Riddler, what is it you wish to know fellow hero?”

“There’s this picture I’m seeing all over the place, it’s made from different patches,” Bruce said.

“Well there it is, the right question, the right Riddle, when you can’t finish a painting its best to just steal another’s work. But then there are too many flaws, too many inconsistencies, so what do you do to distract people from these inconsistencies?” Riddler asked.

“You would assume the inconsistencies matter to people?” Bruce asked.

“True, true, if something looks good, feels good then no one will question it, but then there are the rare intelligent few who want to know the truth. Tell me have you been to any churches lately?”

“Been busy, why?”

“Catholic churches, mosques, etc, ever seen anyone praying? In room full of paintings you’ll find no place has ever abolished the idea of a higher power or god, because gullibility is a constant in the world, people want a power higher than themselves. But even if the existence of one god is agreed upon, people will still disagree, so you have to distract them with other issues,” Riddler explained.

“Like heroes who can’t agree on a basic code of conduct,” Bruce said.

“You’re asking the right questions, and soon an answer will be provided to you, ask the right question and you will be diverted young hero,” Riddler said.

“Who made this world?” Bruce asked.

“And in three two one,” the Riddler counted down, his grin fading as the sound of an explosion echoed in the distance.

“What’s going on?” one of the guards asked on his radio.

“Someone hid a plastic explosive in the food, it’s a jail break,” the voice of a panicking guard came out of the other side.

Bruce stood up, alert like the other Batmen avatars around him.

“Random threats that come up whenever someone gets close to the truth,” the grey and black suited Batman said.

Riddler stood up too, smiling and laughing as the wall behind him cracked. Bruce looked towards the man, widening his eyes as he saw ghostly figures standing beside Nygma. All of them with gold canes, a man in a tight green suit with a purple mask over his eyes, a man with engineering goggles and an open shirt with question marks on it, another man in a green suit jacket with a bowl hat and purple domino mask and a dark haired man wearing glasses and a dark green suit and hat. All of the Riddler avatars laughed with Nygma.

Walls of Blackgate crumpled as other prisoners emerged from their cells. A dark haired man pulled a gas mask and straw hat over his face. He was followed by the ghostly figure of a man with a straw bag as his mask, a man in hooded attire with syringes on his fingers and a goulish man with a cane and noose around his neck.

“Th-there’s nothing to fear but, fear itself!” the Scarecrow said.

A figure crashed out of his cell, thick boots slamming into the ground and leaving deep prints in the concrete. His muscles expanded, nearly ripping out of his prison fatigues. Green chemicals flowed into his muscles from a pump in his back. A spiked collar was wrapped around his neck, with a white and black mask covering his face.

“BANE!” he yelled.

“Seriously?” one of the avatars beside him cursed in Spanish. “Of all our counterparts we end up with the dumbest of them all,” the man wore a black mask with a spiked collar, and a black wrestling suit.

Beside him a bald man in a vest spoke, but the wrestler couldn’t comprehend what the man was saying through the metallic gas mask over his mouth.

Vines and tree trunks burst out of one of the cells. A red haired woman was lifted up by a giant flower, running her hands over the sparkling green leaves that had spread out of her fatigues. The woman blew purple mist from her hand, sending it flowing into the nostrils of the guards and prisoners beneath her. Other flowers bloomed beside her, showing avatars, a green skinned woman in a black leather jacket, a woman with green gloves, a one piece suit and leggings and a young woman in a green dress.

Only one person didn’t rush out of her cell. She stood humming a song to herself, drawing things across her cell wall. The blonde haired (though her dark roots showed) woman was grinning, flashing through filled lips and cheeks gaps in her teeth and self implanted false ones.

“Yes daddy, I know,” she whispered. “Time for the best performance of all,” she began to laugh manically.

Behind her, three younger avatars gasped. Both with their hair styled into pigtails, one in a skimpy outfit with pale skin, another with a jacket that said ‘Daddy’s little girl’ and the first in a full jester outfit looked at their counterpart in shock.

“Wait, one of us could have been played by Madonna?” Harley Quinn of ‘Harley Quinn’ asked.

“Me being Mistah J’s daughter,” the Prime-Harley shivered in disgust.

Harley Quinn continued to laugh, as the chaos at Blackgate spread.

Next Chapter 6: Chaos at Blackgate