Last Daughter of Krypton: Legion IC

[ChasNicollette]

"It could be possible. But I believe it may be unneeded. The wound on his hand is closing. He is rapidly stabilizing. I believe that he may need only rest. Come, Liz, trust me. Give him time. If you would like I can bring him to a move private location for you to sit with him? By the way, you look good. For your age."

"He's asleep," Liz murmured. "He never sleeps, it-- scared me."

She shook her head and laughed a bitter laugh. "He never sleeps and I never get scared."

Liz digested his offer quietly. "I should get back to the others. Can't neglect my duties for personal gain, even if that personal gain is simple sentiment. But yes. Get him someplace quiet. Somewhere he won't be easily woken."

"My father deserves his rest," she murmured. "A little peace. A little quiet."

She turned to go. And she smiled a faint faint rare rare smile over her shoulder at the man in the golden helm. "I expected better from you than age jokes, Jonah. Perhaps if you try such a tack again, I shall be forced to mock your choice of attire."

Cham's eyes went a little wide. His antennae quivered slightly.

Cham squeezed Ayla's hand. Gently. But definately an affirmation of her gesture.

"I have never seen carnage like this. The Five are beyond what I have ever seen them. This.... this assault, it seemed to have no purpose short of carnage. They must be stopped."

Cham's jaw set firmly. Cham squeezed tighter on Ayla's hand. A reaffirmation of their connection. If only for the moment.

Ayla had been getting funny little odds and ends, lately.

A flower native to Winath. A toy tractor with lightning-bolt finish.

A necklace of draxon scales. A seashell from Ventura.

And really. She didn't know where they were coming from. And at first, they'd creeped her out a little.

But then had come the little handwritten poem. And out of her bewilderment, she'd done a bit of handwriting analysis on the thing.

The handwriting changed into four distinct styles throughout the poem. Like it had been written by four different pen-hands.

And then there was the writing itself which, while sweet, didn't seem like InterLac was the poet's first language.

So, no, Ayla didn't know for a fact. But she suspected.

And she held tight to Chameleon's hand.

Because he was a good ma-- wom-- sentient. And in a Cyrano de Bergerac sort of way, he was pretty sweet.

Not to mention brave.

"We'll be ready for them next time," Ayla promised. "And they won't be ready for us. Don't sow the wind, if you're not ready to reap the whirlwind."

*********​

"Get me to it Brainy. I will do what I can."

Brainiac took off, flying in the direction of the weapon. "Dawnstar, how're we coming on Re-Animage?"

At first, many of the folks that Brainiac had ordered to his side looked at each other like, well, they were wondering who had died and made Querl boss.

But a lot of people had died today and they were still trying to save another life.

Thus, Element Lad and Kid Quantum and Rond Vidar followed Wildfire's lead, and followed Brainy's.

Valkyrie M3 hesitated. And she followed, too.

Not because she wanted to stick near Wildfire. Not because she maybe wanted to stick near Ultra Girl if she went along.

No sir.

No ulterior motives here.

Jaymie tried to keep the guilty look off of her face as she flew after the pack.

"'Teen Lantern?'" Rond murmured, shaking his head.

 

[Wyldfire]

"Dawnstar, how're we coming on Re-Animage?"

Tha Apache girl had found him. His "scent" was odd. It was off. She began arrowing into the atmo. "I have him Brainiac Five. Follow my ring in. I believe we will find him in the same location as the ancient Khundian Star shatterer. I believe they found one that didn't have the sentient core."

Dawnstar landed outside of a cave and didn't wait for the others. She walked into the cave making sure the way was clear. The only serious booby trap only took her a moment or two to disarm.

She walked up to the device, it's anchor hooks dug into the hard stone flooring. She placed her hand on the clear chamber with the brain and spinal cord floating in it. "I am sorry Re-Animage. You will be avenged for this."

 

[Wyldfire]

"Garth'll be fine. Imra will dote over him and say that the nose makes him look more rugged or some such when the only two who'll ever know about it are them."

Again with the bitchiness.

Caroline stood there.

She didn't yet go to the lamp.

She stood there.

She covered one eye with her hand, covered half her face. "We didn't. Kill any of them. I can't imagine that. That there would have been... prosecution? If we had. Maybe enforced leaves of absence from the team, but-- it's a moot point. We took three of them down. But Tharok and that Eye woman, the Eye woman did a mass teleport thing and they were gone."

Caroline paused, and her voice was as heavy as anything Star Boy had ever weighed down, and her heart was heavier still, so heavy that even she, Last Daughter of The Daughters of Krypton, had trouble standing up under their combined weight.

"We didn't kill them," she murmured. "We didn't even beat them. They're still out there."

"They're more evil than they've ever ever been. And they're still out there."

"...fuck."

Salu wanted in on this one. Very badly. She wanted to see if Dawnstar would hunt them as hard as she had when Chemical King died. "We'll find them Caroline. Trust me, if Dawnstar takes this as badly as she took the last death in the team, there will be justice served. I just hope I'm there to see it."

One last casualty was brought in. His face was a burned mess. Violet sighed and said "Let me guess. Forgot the mental lightning again didn't you? One of these days I'm going to not remove all of the scars just so you remember Gim."

She set to work taking care of Gim Allon, putting him under so he wouldn't be in so much pain. She kept looking at what she was doing but continued to talk to Caroline. "Now, please, you can keep me company while I take care of things here, but please do it under the sun lamp. Don't make me come over there and get all 21st century medical on you. That lamp can generate red solar too you know." She giggled just a bit as Caroline let that sink in.

 

[Wyldfire]

Jo'd kinda stayed back since her little near fatal tantrums. She didn't want any more attention on her than was necessary but she caught all of what was going on. There were too many of the team here at the moment. With a potential Matter/antimatter explosion there were just too many Legionnaires here.

"Hey guys, if you're not helping with the defusing or the finding of the bomb, get back through the threshold." she said in her loud "Crew boss" voice. "Last thing we want is to lose half the team if Brainy and crew can't stop it."

She pointed to Londo. "You know better than to mill around you big loaf. Act like you used to run a crew and help get team mates to safety. Face it guys, if we can't defuse it this place is going boom. And for the safety of the team and the Threshold we're gonna have to cut the link between here and there."

That was a thought that was odd for her. The belt. It had to be the big brainy belt.

She spoke into her ring com "H.Q. we're evacuating everyone not necessary for the bomb situation. When the last of us come through shut the Threshold down. No telling how much damage this big of boom will do through the postal. Those here can call for pick up or a portal after they've got the bomb taken care of."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Legion HQ

Cos had been following the fight as it went down via the rings of the Legionaries on the asteroid, thus he knew when the Five had ported out, and knew that there was a antimatter bomb about to explode in twelve minutes.

"Jo is right. Non-essentials off the rock. Brainy, we shut down the gave at two minutes from explosion, so if you can't get it disarmed you have till then to get out." He then hit a button, changing the com channel "Salu, whats the status on our wounded? Also, we have one more coming in, no data on him so you will have to do a preliminary bio-scan before you tank him."

Cos turned back to the monitors, his face grim.

 

[Lunaramblings]

Timber Wolf snarled just a bit. Right. Listen, everyone, grab any wounded, any dead. Get them back. They deserve better. Let's move guys! Think Fast!" Timber Wolf was not one to let himself get lost in the shuffle. But this.... this was worse than any of the gang wars back home. Worse than anything he had seen. Quickly he made a circuit of the general area. Making sure XS had gotten everyone. No one gets left behind. Once he finished he made his way through the portal.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"She, uh," Jaymie murmured, "makes a good point."

Brainiac Five glanced at her, harrumphed, gazed ahead as he flew.

Jaymie pondered this. "Why didn't you tell everyone to abandon asteroid when we got a fix?"

Brainiac Five grunted. "Because I'm not the team leader. I'm not even a field leader. Those vaunted democratic elections saw to that. What I do is make informed suggestions. Extremely well-informed suggestions."

He shook his head. "Operating under the possibility that poor dear Re-Animage would have been stowed at an alternate locus than the bombsite, it perhaps behooved us to keep a separate team on hand to extricate him from whatever bizarre sadomasochistic construction The Five had used to imprison him."

He managed a thin, thin smile. "As dichotomy would have it, the loci of both the ultimate murder weapon and the ultimate ersatz murder victim are one and the same. And thus, only one team will likely be necessary, and the others can simply tergiversate. (Figuratively speaking.)"

Brainiac Five landed outside the cave. And glanced at Valkyrie M3.

"Besides," he murmured, "it's not like I 'suggested' you come along. You could have left with the rest of them."

Jaymie smiled a wonky, sad, agonised, frightened smile as she landed beside him. "Well. We can't all be geniuses."

Brainiac chuckled.

Kid Quantum touched down just behind them. "It's in there, all right. Antimatter. I can smell it."

"Pleasant olfactory sensation?" Brainiac wondered.

"Oh, I wish," Jazmin shook her head.

Brainiac Five cracked his knuckles.

"Right, then, Jabberwock," he murmured. "'Snicker-snack.'"

And proceeded into the cave.

Element Lad arched an eyebrow at the disarmed booby trap.

Querl whistled softly as he saw it, beyond the beautiful winged woman.

He crossed his arms behind himself. "It's an antique. Say what you will about the Khunds, they know their engines of mass destruction. Used this to plunge their enemies into perpetual nightfall -- it's always night on Khundia, they were used to fighting in the dark."

"Lovely people," Rond shook his head.

"They're not all bad," Jaymie murmured. "No-one ever is."

"Statistically," Querl nodded, "I would agree."

A sad sad smile flickered across Querl's lips. And he glanced at Dawnstar.

"Replaced the sentient core, didn't they?" he murmured. "Wetwired in a new one."

His lips pursed. "How do you kill a man who dies only to live again? You turn him into cosmic sprocking background radiation."

He hesitated. "Just like Quantum Queen."

Kid Quantum winced. "Brainy--"

"I'm not an idiot, Cullen," Brainiac cut her off.

And his face. Genuine emotion. Agony.

"I wanted to save them. I'm smart enough. I can-- I can do anything."

Element Lad placed a gentle hand on Brainiac's shoulder. "No man can do everything. As you describe it... they will be one with The Universe. And is not unity with The Universe that which is sought by those who wear the--"

"The Mandala," Brainiac nodded. "The symbol borne by The Wanderers' late leader, Celebrand."

Element Lad blinked.

"You're not the only one ever to page through a religious text, Chaplain," Brainiac remarked wryly. "But unlike you, in reading the works of various Scripture, I felt not compelled to hide behind them."

Element Lad cocked his head at Brainiac. "Interesting interpretation. I sought only to reassure. But this-- this is much more interesting."

"I look forward to debating it with you later," Brainiac smiled ever-so-distantly. "After we've saved him. 'Do not with-hold good from those who deserve it when it is in your power to act.'"

Element Lad smiled. "Proverbs 3:27. Of the Judaeo–Christian tradition."

Brainiac turned to face the people there gathered. "Lantern, ERG-1: lacking my PD3, I shall require a Ring scan and the descriptions offered by your sensory wavelengths, respectively, to determine the specific anatomy of the device and defang it. Part and parcel: once we locate the timer, Cullen, your job is to surround it in a quantum bubble and decelerate it to buy us more time. Arrah, provided we can extricate the payload, you are to transmute it into a far safer substance. Might I recommend Molybdenum? Atomic number 42, always a favourite. Dawnstar: do what you can to trace the wetwiring of our colleague's central nervous system that we might sever the connections without activating the bomb prematurely. Bronze Star, since you're here, once we free Re-Animage's brain, I'll need you to cryogenically preserve it until we can get it to my lab, I'll be able to clone him a new body there and he can thenceforth resurrect himself to his heart's content."

"Sounds like a plan," Kid Quantum took a deep breath.

"--though it's really just a suggestion," VM3 quipped, scared out of her mind.

Brainiac turned to face the bomb.

"If things go wrong," he harrumphed, "as they so often do: Cullen will funnel the bomb's energies into ERG-1, the would-be Lantern will maintain ERG-1's structural integrity, and, failing that, Arrah will have to shield us in Tromium until Dawnstar can lead us safely through the resultant fallout."

Rond shook his head. Flexed his Ring hand.

"'Baptism by fire,'" he murmured. "She wasn't kidding."

Element Lad flexed his hands. "Theology aside, I always did prefer water. For that sort of thing."

Rond pointed his Ring at the bomb. Again steadying his arm with his opposite hand. "You know, I think I'm gonna like you."

"Only Time will tell," Element Lad mused.

Rond fired a quick glance at Wildfire to see if he was ready. And again regarded the bomb.

"Ring."

"Scan."

The Ring flashed.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Timber Wolf snarled just a bit. Right. Listen, everyone, grab any wounded, any dead. Get them back. They deserve better. Let's move guys! Think Fast!"

"Right," Garth nodded, glancing down at his nose, at the blood on his cyborg arm, "I'll just--"

Lar took him gently by the shoulder. "Let's go, hot-shot."

Garth blinked. "Wait, what?"

M'onel smiled thinly. "I'm grabbing wounded."

Lightning Lad scowled. "Please, this is just a--"

M'onel threw Garth over his shoulder and flew for the Threshold.

Slightly less gently.

"Bastitch!" Garth crowed in horror.

"I leave you behind," M'onel harrumphed, "to get blown up? That'll set your sister on me. And I don't care what planet I'm from, I can't take that kind of hurt."

M'onel glanced at Timber Wolf and Ultra Girl.

And smiled.

"Look at you two," he shook his head. "Co-operating. Never thought I'd see the day."

He vanished through the Threshold's pale embrace.

"(Bastitch)," Garth opined bitterly.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Salu wanted in on this one. Very badly. She wanted to see if Dawnstar would hunt them as hard as she had when Chemical King died. "We'll find them Caroline. Trust me, if Dawnstar takes this as badly as she took the last death in the team, there will be justice served. I just hope I'm there to see it."

"Same here," Caroline nodded quietly, looking down at the hand that had curled instinctually, unconsciously into a fist.

She shook her head, her golden hair flourishing slightly.

"Can't promise that I'll only just watch, though."

Caroline winced as the big guy got brought in, slightly less big than usual.

Slightly more cut down to size.

But Violet was the most meticulous medico she'd ever seen, there was no way she'd leave him unfixed.

She set to work taking care of Gim Allon, putting him under so he wouldn't be in so much pain. She kept looking at what she was doing but continued to talk to Caroline. "Now, please, you can keep me company while I take care of things here, but please do it under the sun lamp. Don't make me come over there and get all 21st century medical on you. That lamp can generate red solar too you know." She giggled just a bit as Caroline let that sink in.

Caroline's eyebrow twitched.

"That's like threatening me," she realised, "with The Spanish Inquisition."

She turned and hurried back to the medbed on which XS had placed her.

Deactivated the climate shielding of her trans-suit and switched the lamp on full blast yellow.

Bright.

"Keep your thumbscrews to yourself," Caroline remarked, playing along with that rogue telltale giggle she'd heard in Vi's voice, "'Doctor Feelgood.'"

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang - The Vatican

"The Legion never takes a life. To do so for any reason is grounds for immediate dismissal, and quite possibly formal charges. If you can't do this, then we need to select another Knight, for the Church HAS to have a voice in the upcoming battle. The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task."

She opened her mouth to speak, but her spine tingled and HE screamed at the top of his nonexistant lungs, raging inside her skull at the presence of not one but two Celestial Ones. She saw the one, Gabriel, and she heard the other approaching. A whisper of a touch on the polished flagstones.

A flicker of shadow and light, a reflection upon polished metal. Allana watched without watching as the newcomer entered the room.

And then, and only then, did she fix her gleaming eyes and smile her coolly inviting smile upon Dame Allana Lang of The House of Kent.

(Her flawless smile.)

"M'Lady," she instructed. "You will come with me."

And at the sight of the Celestial. This Celestial. Even the darkness within her stopped raging. Shocked into silence by the beauty of purity. Gabriel was an entity it new from long long ago. A personal grudge it would never overcome. A very personal grudge.

But this one.

This one was different. An unknown. A new face. Celestially speaking that is. It had come from after the war. After the Fall. After the rebellion.

After.

After everything had.. changed.

Shifting back into the language of Truth. High Gothic. Also know as Latin. Ancient Latin. The true language as mortal man spoke it.

Allana spoke.

“Greetings and salutations Celestial One.”

Motionless became motion. Hips swiveling. Feet sliding into action. And she walked. Not nearly as graceful as the Celestial, it was more of a march.

Not a Legion of armed and armoured Knights. Not even a Legion of soldiers. A gathering of specialists if she understood the terms the Monsignor used.

“The taking of a life clause.. what if my own life, or of an ally, is in immediate danger of extinction?” she asked,

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang of the House of Kent

Kingdom of the Isles principality
Castle Nevermourn

Age 5

In a month she’d be six. But right now she was five.

Right.

Now.

She.

Was.

Five.

And her father was standing on the castle wall, looking down at his daughter. His daughter, ankle deep in cold biting snow.

He’d arrived from the battle field only hours before. The horses had stormed past the initiates before he’d realized he knew one of them. Before the meaning of what she’d done sank in.

She was trying to become a Knight. Well, an acolyte first, then a squire, a Knight. And if she did very very well indeed perhaps even a landed Knight.

Cold biting wind child him as he watched. Listening to guardsmen call down taunts. Offers of warm blankets, hot stew and fresh bread. If the initiates broke they’d be taken care of. Fed, clothed, and sent home. A simple brand on their inner arm. A brand that would forever ban them from the testing again.

Most failures turned to crime, forever marked in their souls as failures. Vagabounds, peddlers, highwayman, thieves and others of their ilk.

If she failed she’d be marked. And no man of nobility wanted a female with such a mark.

***

Gauntlet met helm and the Master-of-Arms staggered back. “Mi Lord it has happened, before.”

“There are no such thing as FEMALE KNIGHTS!!” The master of the Castle bellowed.

The door was flung wide as Lady Cleo strode in, her face marked with fear. Tears brimming and threatening to over spill. “She has her Father’s stubbornness to blame.”

“Who’s been filling her head with those stories?” he snarled at the two of them.

“I have mi Lorde Karak,” murmured the Governess as she stepped for two steps. Two steps not one nor three. Two. Two careful steps. Eyes on the floor. If she was lucky he’d kill her outright.

Turning he glared at the woman. The woman that had raised him as a child. And filled his head with those same stories. But apparently she’d told Allana about the Golden Princess as well.

The Princess with hair of gold and armoured within and without that no blade or bolter could harm her. Invulnerable with the glory of Truth.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Amaranth."

Shifting back into the language of Truth. High Gothic. Also know as Latin. Ancient Latin. The true language as mortal man spoke it.

Allana spoke.

“Greetings and salutations Celestial One.”

Motionless became motion. Hips swiveling. Feet sliding into action. And she walked. Not nearly as graceful as the Celestial, it was more of a march.

Not a Legion of armed and armoured Knights. Not even a Legion of soldiers. A gathering of specialists if she understood the terms the Monsignor used.

“The taking of a life clause.. what if my own life, or of an ally, is in immediate danger of extinction?” she asked,

Perhaps if she had taken mortal flesh for this journey, she would have had to tune that angelic overmind to see it.

But there was an echo behind the woman. Behind and beside and around.

A spirit engraved in a bit of metal embedded in flesh.

A coin. Silver. One of thirty.

She could see it.

She was a vibrational presence on this plane, attuned to the senses of this woman and the beast that hid within her breast, and she could see the vibrations blurring around the woman's edges.

The angel inclined her head to the knight.

She had known Latin in her former life, and it came to her easily now, this language of Men that had all but perished but been preserved for the speaking of Wisdom.

<"I greet thee also,"> she declared, <"woman set aside for darkness, yet Crusading for Light. And I thank ye, her Infernal companion, for keeping his opinions to himself.">

As the knight reached her, reached the side of her, the angel turned as well, a hint of winter wind, the rustling of feathers, the tiny tinny tintinnabulation of silver bells.

And as she turned, she nodded again. To Gabriel. And to Daniel.

"You would do well, perhaps," she suggested, her tongue reverting to a more casual dialect, speaking the living tongues of Men, speaking plainly rather than engaging in circumlocution, spoken not with Latin inflection but Celtic, a daughter of Cymru, "to think of the prohibition not as a clause legal or contractual, but as a Commandment."

Bare feet trod all but noiselessly.

And she spoke her words with an ironic little flicker to her tone, a reverent kind of irreverence.

"'Thou shalt not kill.'"

The halls rolled slowly past them, the entranceway approaching.

Those blood-tinted eyes blinked their snow-white lids at the woman.

"It enters into the minds of men to kill to save themselves, to kill to save their friends, this is a tendency held in common by nearly all mankind. But these... young people... hold themselves to a standard higher even than that. Never. Never. Killing is never to be countenanced."

She adjusted the sword sheathed at her side as she walked, and a featherlight ripple moved through the surface of her wings.

"You must do what it takes to save yourself, your friend, and your enemy all at once. To best your enemy without slaying your enemy and saving innocents and compatriots alike in so doing. Because this is the greater test, both of skill and of character. To do what The Legion does. And never to kill."

"This is a higher standard: to love your enemy as yourself."

"I trust you can hold yourself to a higher standard?"

She shook her head, and her dark hair rippled as had her wings.

"If you cannot," she pondered, "if you fail in this, then yourself and The Legion will part ways, and you will lose your place in the coming conflict. And your place is... necessary."

She stepped out into the light of day above New Rome, stopped there on the front stair, and she glanced upward at the sun's beaming radiance, glanced and then gazed into the Light of Day without blinking.

She returned her gaze to Allana, and she smiled ever-so-featherlightly.

"'Thou shalt not kill,'" she mused, "that all the Worlds might live."

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang - The Vatican

Brushing her Acolyte robe to the side Allana took the hilt of her sword in hand. “By the Oath and the Measure. For Truth, Honor, and Duty. I swear that so long as I am a member of the Legion, I shall take no life.”

She’d taken many many Oaths of the moment. Everyone of them binding. Many had a step out clause. But many more did not. Her oath was binding. May her soul be damned to the Eight Circle of Hell, the place reserved for the Fraudulent. The Phony, Falsehood makers. Liars. Only Traitors, such as The Adversary himself were in Ninth level.

Tilting her head back she looked up at the sun, the burning light scorching into her eyes, “My Honor is my Life.” And the dialect of her Kingdom she repeated “Est Sularis Oth Mithas.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Amhrán Duit."

Brushing her Acolyte robe to the side Allana took the hilt of her sword in hand. “By the Oath and the Measure. For Truth, Honor, and Duty. I swear that so long as I am a member of the Legion, I shall take no life.”

She’d taken many many Oaths of the moment. Everyone of them binding. Many had a step out clause. But many more did not. Her oath was binding. May her soul be damned to the Eight Circle of Hell, the place reserved for the Fraudulent. The Phony, Falsehood makers. Liars. Only Traitors, such as The Adversary himself were in Ninth level.

Tilting her head back she looked up at the sun, the burning light scorching into her eyes, “My Honor is my Life.” And the dialect of her Kingdom she repeated “Est Sularis Oth Mithas.”

The angel nodded to this, slowly, watching the young woman and the ancient evil within her enduring the quickening rays of the light in the sky.

"You don't need to try to impress me," she murmured, a gentle smile offered, again somehow managing to be irreverent and reverent all at once. "with ornate oaths and rites of vast and terrible import. As it is written: 'Let your "yes" be "yes," and your "no" be "no."' Simply say you will, and do as you say you will, and that will be enough for me. I've known many a ceremony in my day. Many a ritual. But the simple honesty of matching word to deed speaks volumes more clearly than oaths sworn in a thousand tongues of Man."

She tilted her head, birdlike, and gazed at Allana. "You are that kind of woman, I think. Who says, and does what she says."

"Which is not to say that pretty words are without place," she pondered. "I once knew a girl who was so awfully fond of... lyrics."

She nodded at this. "Speak the words if they give you comfort. If they give you focus of purpose. But Men and Women have much to contend with, betwixt the cradle and the grave, if they are to step through the veil into Great Glory as opposed to the lick and flicker of flame unending. Do not add to that burden with bindings of your own making."

Again, avian eyes searched the blues of the sky. "But. Enough of my prattling. (Listen to me, sermonising at the drop of a hat.)"

"Have you anything to gather?" she wondered. "Or can we depart forthwith? Take time if you need it, mind you."

 

[Lunaramblings]

Fate looked back at Cham and Ayla. He couldn't help but smile. Even in the carnage, the death, the merciless mayhem, love blooms anew.

"I am going to bring Wraith to his quarters. If I am needed I will be there, making sure the threat is over. Keep me posted Cham." Fate carries Wraith on a stretcher of gold and purple energy. "... love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave.Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord."

Fate disappears around the corner. Cham had heard the comment. And he smiled. He understood. Even in all of this, maybe Love was not futile. Maybe.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Wildfire took in the situation. He could handle this. Least he hoped so.

"See Brainy, I like this new found passion. Ok, let's Old ERG take a look, see if he can't help out here." Wildfire focused. Sifting through the various energy signatures. Trying to differentiate the signals.

"Brainy, I think the brain is the key. It all seems to revolve around that. Course, this is hard to really read. Like trying to understand one of those old Uwe Boll films. Brainy, I get the distinct impression that this bomb is gonna be quite the piece of work. Listen, I don't want to step on toes, but if this things starts to go bad, everyone needs to get clear. I don't care how. Just go. I think I can contain it, but if I am wrong, and let's face it Brainy, I ain't no twelfth level intellect, this is gonna get ugly. In theory, I should be able to contain it. I just don't want to risk you guy's lives on it." Wildfire walks over to the bomb. Right up, nearly touching it. Carefully he places himself between the bomb and his friends. So, that said. Hope this works." Wildfire grabs the brain and rips it from the bonds of the bomb. Spinning he heaves it to Jaymie. "Keep it secret, keep it safe kid!" Immediately on the heals of this he channels a massive force through himself, creating a hard light wall he hurls the other legionnaires backwards and through the open portal. As the portal closes Wildfire smiles. His friends safe. Great. Now you get your ass blown up."

The force of the blast is sickening. In an instant the containment vessel that surrounds Wildfire is gone. Nothing left. Not even a stitch. Wildfire screams, the agony of absorbing so much energy so quickly. He can feel his consciousness stretching. Like a ballon being filled by a fire hose. Then it subsides. The cave is gone. The whole asteroid is gone. Nothing, not even a hint of it's existence is left. Wildfire smiles. He did it. If only barely. Then he passes out.

All those that happen to be watching this sector of space see a sight that is nearly impossible. It appears that a new star is born. A star brighter than any other near by. A feral star.

 

[Wyldfire]

So, that said. Hope this works." Wildfire grabs the brain and rips it from the bonds of the bomb. Spinning he heaves it to Jaymie. "Keep it secret, keep it safe kid!" Immediately on the heals of this he channels a massive force through himself, creating a hard light wall he hurls the other legionnaires backwards and through the open portal. As the portal closes Wildfire smiles. His friends safe. Great. Now you get your ass blown up."

"Oh bloody Nass, Wildfire you idiot!" Dawnstar grabbed Brainiac Five. "Quantum put a field around the rest of you and get back to the portal. Make the time you need."

The group vanished in the effect of the Quantum field. Dawnstar launched herself at maximum planetary speed. She and Brainy neared the portal just in time to see the others with Nah near the portal. "Nah, drop the belt and get that portal closed."

Jo didn't need to be told twice with the gruesome that just appeared next to her in Val's hands. She dropped Brainy's belt and dragged as many of the rest through as she could shouting "Close the portal NOW!"

It didn't take Shvaugn a second hearing to comply. As the portal closed she asked "Was that everyone? Where's Brainiac and Wildfire?"

Dawnstar grabbed the belt as it hit and went for Atmo. "Brainiac, I hope you have a back up recorder in that belt. I think his idiocy needs to be recorded for posterity. I akmost had the wet wiring tracked."

The force of the blast is sickening. In an instant the containment vessel that surrounds Wildfire is gone. Nothing left. Not even a stitch. Wildfire screams, the agony of absorbing so much energy so quickly. He can feel his consciousness stretching. Like a ballon being filled by a fire hose. Then it subsides. The cave is gone. The whole asteroid is gone. Nothing, not even a hint of it's existence is left. Wildfire smiles. He did it. If only barely. Then he passes out.

Dawnstar and Brainiac Five were just ahead of the shockwave. As she felt it lessening. she slowed and began to turn back.

All those that happen to be watching this sector of space see a sight that is nearly impossible. It appears that a new star is born. A star brighter than any other near by. A feral star.

"Oh Nass, Wildfire, you fool."

 

[Varshanka]

Dame Allana Lang - Vatican City

“If it’s allowed I’ll be needing my armour once more. Unless I am to be an acolyte within this Legion. The Techpreists are repairing and remodulating the system.” Allana replied, her eyes shifting from the sun. A light that tormented the darkness within even more than that of her own world.

The sun of her sky was a little more orange than this, and the gravity was significantly heavier. Here she walked with care, the pull of the ground on her feet was light. Too light. Once in armour, the system would autocompensate, and she’d feel – normal – again.

“As for my words, they are an Oath of the Moment. A binding contract between myself and the Light. They are not words of flower and nonsense. Not for me. My servants, mostly footmen and other peasants, find them to be wasteful and obsolete. Foolish notions of a bygone age. But for the Knighthood, they are a dedication to what is right.”

She tried not to be cold and heartless, not to one of the Light, but she had the feeling that’s the way she sounded. She was just trying to explain it to an outsider. Just as she had so many times before. But each time she explained it, she sounded colder to her own ears.

Behind, and within, her eyes gleamed a feral glow. Flames flickering across the edges. He’d have wreaked destruction long ago without her control over him. A control and will he despised. Invisible chains that bound him to obedience.

Be Silent demonspawn, she demanded of the raging beast. I’ll not tolerate your mannerisms now. For every moment of obstinate action I will spend an hour in prayer for your soul.

Screaming and spiting words most vile the creature receded, drawing back within, folding upon itself. But it watched. Waiting. Biding it’s time.

And her eyes still beheld the unearthly, the Empyrical glow of it watching.

“For you I say Yes. Yes I will not kill so long as the Legion claims me as one of their own. But, collection of my proper armour would be appreciated, Holy One.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

"That's an interesting wrinkle," the angel contemplated. "I'm told that there's a stipulation in The Legion's bylaws against powers solely derived from technological artefacts. There was a boy named James, once, whose belt failed him. You may have to confide in them regarding the... 'magickal medallion' that brings your Other to the forefront."

She nodded slowly. "I'm sure if you explain the situation they will be... accomodating."

She paused. And smiled. Softly. "Best to explain it. Gently."

"Use whatever words you choose," she suggested, though perhaps she wasn't simply talking about "explanations" anymore, but also about Oaths, "and so long as you do not speak them in vain, so long as they are true in your spirit and sincere on your lips, The Light will take them to heart. But I can promise you this: The Light does not seek to bind. The Light seeks to free."

After a moment, she chuckled, wry but heavenly: "Of course, that's probably exactly what The Opposition would say, so I don't know how many points that wins me."

Hand on the hilt of her weapon, resting there in attentive calm, she glanced about.

"I had a flyover before I perched to wait. The Techpriests are... this way?"

She walked in that direction, and her feet, too, met The Earth in a fashion that seemed too light for the gravity involved.

"'Holy One,'" she mused softly, "sounds a little, I don't know, 'holier-than-thou.' You can call me by name if you want."

'Can you hear me in there?' she wondered, vibrating on a level inaudible to the young woman, but speaking to The Denarian embedded in her corpus. 'I really do hope you're not giving her a hard time. She's doing you a kindness, not a mischief. My brothers in The Bull Host probably wouldn't hesitate to cut you out of her and cast you to every direction under Heaven.'

'But we're giving you a chance.'

'To be something more than you've become.'

'And this would give Hope to a War that's raged Forever.'

'I bet even you could stand a little Hope from time to time. Even you.'

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Knight," she remarked, as she wafted in the direction of the Techpriests' forge and armoury.

"My name is Ceriel."

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang - Vatican

"That's an interesting wrinkle," the angel contemplated. "I'm told that there's a stipulation in The Legion's bylaws against powers solely derived from technological artefacts. There was a boy named James, once, whose belt failed him. You may have to confide in them regarding the... 'magickal medallion' that brings your Other to the forefront."

She nodded slowly. "I'm sure if you explain the situation they will be... accomodating."

She paused. And smiled. Softly. "Best to explain it. Gently."

"Use whatever words you choose," she suggested, though perhaps she wasn't simply talking about "explanations" anymore, but also about Oaths, "and so long as you do not speak them in vain, so long as they are true in your spirit and sincere on your lips, The Light will take them to heart. But I can promise you this: The Light does not seek to bind. The Light seeks to free."

After a moment, she chuckled, wry but heavenly: "Of course, that's probably exactly what The Opposition would say, so I don't know how many points that wins me."

Hand on the hilt of her weapon, resting there in attentive calm, she glanced about.

"I had a fly over before I perched to wait. The Techpriests are... this way?"

Nodding Allana agreed that that was where she believed the techpriests domain was located. Since this was only the second time she’d ever been here. And the last time had been so very very long ago. At least from a battle point of view. There had been somewhere along the lines tirty or fourty missions since then. Some as small as skirmishes. Others as large as full blown wars that lasted weeks.

But there had been no time to rest. No time to stop and thing. Fight. Pray. Practice. And occasionally she got to eat. Or take a moment of silence for herself.

She walked in that direction, and her feet, too, met The Earth in a fashion that seemed too light for the gravity involved.

"'Holy One,'" she mused softly, "sounds a little, I don't know, 'holier-than-thou.' You can call me by name if you want."

Can you hear me in there? she wondered, vibrating on a level inaudible to the young woman, but speaking to The Denarian embedded in her corpus. I really do hope you're not giving her a hard time. She's doing you a kindness, not a mischief. My brothers in The Bull Host probably wouldn't hesitate to cut you out of her and cast you to every direction under Heaven.

But we're giving you a chance.

To be something more than you've become.

And this would give Hope to a War that's raged Forever.

I bet even you could stand a little Hope from time to time. Even you.

Sulking, that which was the Deamon-within did not reply. Instead it sulked. But it sulked..loudly.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Knight," she remarked, as she wafted in the direction of the Techpriests' forge and armoury.

"My name is Ceriel."

“I am Celestial Class Knight Allana Lang of the House of Kent of The Order. As for the medallion, it cannot be removed. To do so would mean the end of my life. The Apothecarion informed my father that it rests very near mine heart. If I die, that which is bound by me will be released. Free to claim another. Hence, I carry it still. Even though the Techpreists and Medicae inform me that I can be brought back from the brink of death, I shall let no other take my place as the Guardian of the Deamon.”

Pausing in her speech as they walked she blushed. “My apology Hol.. Ceriel. I tend to get Defensive.. it’s a habit of battle. You begin to see everything as either an attack, or a withdraw.”

Making a conscious effort she moved herself from the brisk pace of military precision, settling into a flowing step more at home on a dance floor than a parade ground.

"If it pleases you, I am called Allana."

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Through The Fire and Flames."

Fate looked back at Cham and Ayla. He couldn't help but smile. Even in the carnage, the death, the merciless mayhem, love blooms anew.

"I am going to bring Wraith to his quarters. If I am needed I will be there, making sure the threat is over. Keep me posted Cham." Fate carries Wraith on a stretcher of gold and purple energy. "... love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave.Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord."

Fate disappears around the corner. Cham had heard the comment. And he smiled. He understood. Even in all of this, maybe Love was not futile. Maybe.

Ayla chewed over that last bit. Something had seemed familiar about it.

Like something Element Lad would have quoted.

Had a little bit in common, she pondered, did Jan and Jonah.

They even sounded alike, a little.

They'd make a cute couple, she cracked wise, thoughts to herself.

But then she glanced up at Chameleon and saw him smiling. And she smirked.

But not as cute as us.

And then chaos poured through the Threshold.

Including M'onel and Garth, who seemed none too pleased.

After that, there was shouting, and a second wave, and Dawnstar was yelling commands and neither Wildfire nor Brainiac Five were anywhere to be seen...

********​

"Brainy, I think the brain is the key. It all seems to revolve around that. Course, this is hard to really read. Like trying to understand one of those old Uwe Boll films. Brainy, I get the distinct impression that this bomb is gonna be quite the piece of work. Listen, I don't want to step on toes, but if this things starts to go bad, everyone needs to get clear. I don't care how. Just go. I think I can contain it, but if I am wrong, and let's face it Brainy, I ain't no twelfth level intellect, this is gonna get ugly. In theory, I should be able to contain it. I just don't want to risk you guy's lives on it."

Querl's eyebrow arched, rising slowly.

"Right. Which is why we have a pl-- an extremely well-informed suggestion in place. Everyone plays a role and we all get out of here with our integuments contiguous."

Wildfire walks over to the bomb. Right up, nearly touching it. Carefully he places himself between the bomb and his friends. So, that said. Hope this works."

"I know this would kind of be the caffpot calling the teakettle sprocked," Jaymie cautioned, hesitant, "but 'Fire, don't do anything stu--"

Wildfire grabs the brain and rips it from the bonds of the bomb. Spinning he heaves it to Jaymie. "Keep it secret, keep it safe kid!"

She saw the brain in a jar tumbling towards her and her jaw craned open wide, slow slow slow motion, she was fast and she was strong and her senses were razor-sharp and laser-quick and she watched the jar tumble to her end over end over end--

Oh, sprock.

Body parts thrown at me.

Why does this always happen?

She reached up with gloves that had Union Jacks on the back and she caught the jar and cushioned the impact, wrapping her arms around it and cradling it before it struck the cave floor.

Keep it safe.

Cold lightning crackled through her veins and through her skin and she found the curious mix of moisture and temperature and oxygenation that causes the mammalian dive reflex, preserving even a drowned brain in the frozen cold.

She couldn't turn back time. But she could put it into slow motion.

Gotcha!

--Jazmin's golden eyes widened-- "Sprock don'--"

--Element Lad's eyes crackled magenta and his hands flung outward, ready to transmute the annihilating antimaterial were it loosed, desperate to save his friends--

--Rond tried to put himself between the bomb and the beautiful winged woman, a last-ditch instinctual attempt to salvage her at least, as ineffectual as he already knew it might be; Not enough Time never enough Time--

--Jaymie whirled to put her own body between the bomb and the jar: Keep it safe.--

--Brainiac reached for his belt. His belt was gone. Of course it was. Well, this is nass.--

Immediately on the heals of this he channels a massive force through himself, creating a hard light wall he hurls the other legionnaires backwards...

They tumbled and tumbled ass over teakettle, trying to get some footing, trying to get some purchase, trying to stop this madness...

"Not matter!" Jan spluttered. "Can't alter it, Jazmin--"

"Hardlight photons're still photons," Kid Quantum agreed, "I'll just--"

...but then they were tumbled to a halt just yards shy of the Threshold, right back where they'd started.

"--kill the sprocker," Jazmin finished with a glower, pushing up from the heap in which she'd landed.

"Oh bloody Nass, Wildfire you idiot!" Dawnstar grabbed Brainiac Five. "Quantum put a field around the rest of you and get back to the portal. Make the time you need."

"Best suggestion I've heard all day," Jazmin nodded. "No offence."

"None taken," Brainiac fumed.

...and a golden globe expanded forth from her, surrounding the others, surrounding herself, engirdling her in its circumference...

...and in that globe, chronal tachyons slowed to a crawl, and gravitons obeyed her every whim...

They were gone through the portal faster than maybe even Jenni's eyes could have seen, and certainly faster than Jaymie's.

The group vanished in the effect of the Quantum field. Dawnstar launched herself at maximum planetary speed. She and Brainy neared the portal just in time to see the others with Nah near the portal. "Nah, drop the belt and get that portal closed."

Jo didn't need to be told twice with the gruesome that just appeared next to her in Val's hands. She dropped Brainy's belt and dragged as many of the rest through as she could shouting "Close the portal NOW!"

It didn't take Shvaugn a second hearing to comply. As the portal closed she asked "Was that everyone? Where's Brainiac and Wildfire?"

Brainiac keyed the Ring.

"Erin: resolution in work. Talk later."

He had been irate before. But this was an anger beyond the mere inconveniences of Wraith and Ultra Girl.

This was a whole 'nother exponent of angry.

All the feeling had drained from his voice. And he sounded, well, just like a machine.

He killed the link before she could reply.

Dawnstar grabbed the belt as it hit and went for Atmo. "Brainiac, I hope you have a back up recorder in that belt. I think his idiocy needs to be recorded for posterity. I akmost had the wet wiring tracked."

Brainiac Five left the ground beside her in a blur, his Ring hand a fist ahead of him, snatching the belt from her with the other hand and shielding them both in its glow as he buckled it around his waist one-handed. "I'm a scientist. I record everything."

As the portal closes Wildfire smiles. His friends safe. Great. Now you get your ass blown up."

The force of the blast is sickening. In an instant the containment vessel that surrounds Wildfire is gone. Nothing left. Not even a stitch. Wildfire screams, the agony of absorbing so much energy so quickly. He can feel his consciousness stretching. Like a ballon being filled by a fire hose. Then it subsides. The cave is gone. The whole asteroid is gone. Nothing, not even a hint of it's existence is left. Wildfire smiles. He did it. If only barely. Then he passes out.

It has been written, most eloquently by a man named Caidin, that in space, a nuclear blast would have all the shockwave of two snowflakes bumping together in mid-air.

But in atmosphere?

There wasn't enough noncompressible media in a dozen systems to supress the shockwave of this blast.

Brainiac yanked a pair of coronal filtration goggles from his belt's pouch, hauled them onto his face.

Dawnstar and Brainiac Five were just ahead of the shockwave. As she felt it lessening. she slowed and began to turn back.

All those that happen to be watching this sector of space see a sight that is nearly impossible. It appears that a new star is born. A star brighter than any other near by. A feral star.

"Oh Nass, Wildfire, you fool."

As the "star" expands from whence there had only before been uninhabited stone, Brainiac's lip curled in disdain.

Part of him was pleased that he was present to empirically observe this faux-astronomical phenomenon. But it was a very. Small. Part of him.

"You can lead a horse's nass to water," he scowled. "But you cannot make him think."

********​

Liz whirled as the Threshold sealed shut and the golden bubble burst, depositing the clump of would-be heroes onto the floor before the vanished portal.

"Vidar?" she blinked.

"M'okay," he waved, picking himself up. "Not a moment too soon."

"No thanks to Wildfire," Jazmin harrumphed. "Faceless nassface hotdogged a nuclear sprocking antimatter weapon."

"His goal was our salvation," Jan murmured, again tucking his hands into his sleeves, regaining his Zen-like calm. "But I find most claims that ends should justify means to be specious at best."

Jaymie staggered to her own feet, still cradling the jar that held Re-Animage's brain and spine, frosted o'er from her power's cold condensation. "Uh, special delivery. We brought you the head of Re-Animage, sorry we didn't have a silver platter. Which way was Brainy's lab, again?"

********​

Brainiac Five levitated in space, observing the spatter and crackle of Wildfire's unfettered, supercharged energies.

"Here's an age-old riddle," he intoned, utterly displeased. "How do you get the genie back in the bottle?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Heroes of Our Time."

"Say that again," Green Lantern requested, coolly, her Ring giving off sparks, "slowly."

"Uh," Jaymie hesitated, "which part?"

"'Hotdogged,'" Liz clarified.

"ERG-1," Kid Quantum harrumphed, "yanked the organic computational component out of a bomb that even for The Khunds tempted Kingdom Come. He dumped us back on the threshold of the Threshold with a hardlight construct--"

"Just like one of yours," Rond volunteered, then hesitated, self-corrected, "uh, ours."

Jaymie winced. "And then, apparently, tried to uh, Slim Pickens the nuke. (Can I use 'Slim Pickens' as a verb? Is that vaguer than 'hotdogged?')"

"I get the reference," Liz nodded. "But I'm surprised you know to make it."

Jaymie smiled awkwardly. "Ancient digitial audio vestiges are something of a hobby of mine. I like music, but sometimes I stumble on movies, and uh."

She paused, and glanced at the jar she was still carrying. "'Precious bodily fluids?'"

"Interesting," Liz digested. "Almost enough to make one believe in reincarnation. My grandfather would probably call it 'spatial genetic multiplicity.'"

Jaymie blinked. "What?"

"Suffice it to say," Liz mused, "he did something ridiculous in order to direct and contain the detonation."

"Suffice it to say," Kid Quantum agreed.

"You're not serious," M'onel frowned as he approached. And then glanced at Shvaughn's control board. "Unregistered stellar anomaly, anti-energy signature... Sprock, you're serious."

Garth tagged along behind him, holding a mediwipe to the bloody mess that was his nose. "Grife. He did that? That's him?"

He paused, and then grinned a madman's grin. "Man. If only I'd been there to see it!"

Ayla's smirk was long gone, replaced by a scowl. "Yeah, but, based on headcount? Dawnstar and Brainy were there to see it. For all we know, they could be at the middle of that, and without UP approval for another Threshold xmit, they're gonna have to take the long way home. Granted, Dawnstar can manage that on her own, but I'd hate for her to have to lug Brainiac all that way."

"Presuming they're even in one piece," M'onel shook his head. "As opposed to scattered into nuclei."

"I've met Dawnstar," Liz mused, as she turned away. "She's fine."

M'onel paused.

"As for 'the slow path,' and Dawnstar's having to bring a passenger?" Liz' lip quirked. "She won't."

She held her left hand aloft. "Pop-quiz, Rond. How do you travel faster than light?"

Rond blinked, but regurgitated the answer immediately, this was grade-school stuff for him, he knew time travel: "'By harnessing a quantum tunnel with an FTL factor of 36.7 recurring.'"

Liz tilted her head. "Good."

And curled her left hand into a fist.

Liz' jaw cricked. And light poured from her Ring.

Poured up above her head into a vortex of emerald light... the swirling clouds of a tropical storm made of emerald light...

...a non-Euclidean wormhole.

Rond stared. And looked down at his own Ring, a pale imitation of hers.

"What can't we do?" he wondered, his voice a breath.

Liz answered his question with a question: "What can't you imagine?"

And she was gone, aloft, flying, and the vortex closed behind her.

Rond Vidar stood there watching the spot where she'd gone. "Oh."

Element Lad chuckled softly. "Koan and jakugo. I'm going to remember that."

M'onel similarly stared after her. And then clapped Rond on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let's tend our wounded. Someone remind VM3 where Brainy's lab is, this place is a maze in the best of times. Brainy and Dawny--"

M'onel smiled a ghost of a smile. "There's not one of us doesn't think they're going to be fine."

********​

Green light coruscated in the air beside Brainiac Five, beside Dawnstar, and Elizabeth Greystone emerged into space at their side.

The wormhole closed behind her.

A second skin of verdant plasma oozed around her, hugged her form, and she inclined her head at the winged warrioress and the intellect.

"I turn my back for five minutes," she quipped, squinting at the writhing mass of light that Wildfire had become. She could almost see something in the midst of it, like something dancing at the middle of the flame.

"Tell me about it," Brainiac gestured bitterly. "And he did it right in front of my face. That rock exhibited extraordinary gravitational properties given its diminutive size. I'll bet it had Nth Metal. Third most valuable substance in The Universe, and he goes and annihilates it."

"Right then," Liz pondered coolly, "there's one count of vandalism, one count of negligence, one count of-- let's say-- destruction of evidence in an ongoing criminal investigation. To say nothing of the light pollution. And all of it outside UP space and therefore in Lantern Corps jurisdiction."

Querl paused. "Hm."

Liz pointed her Ring at The Feral Star. "I better incarcerate him. The sooner I do that, the sooner you can request extradition and the sooner I can remand him into your custody."

Querl smirked. "Time, as they say, is a-wasting. Though I'd be interested to see--"

The Ring flashed.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four men in jumpsuits formed out of the plasma fields she cast, levitating at the four points of the compass around the energy globe.

Men in jumpsuits with a distinctive logo on the shoulder. And nametags.

And massive packs on their backs, portable acceleration chambers with projection wands. Projection wands which they then deployed.

The sly looking one with the slightly craggy face smirked a devil's smirk. Keyed the power on his projection wand. His three fellows followed suit.

'Let's show this distant-future sprock-up how we do things downtown.'

The wands crackled and rattled and hummed and birthed forth particle streams, all in green, thundering and lightning in the silence of space--

--the beams coursed and spread, the energies engirdling the globe, forming equators and meridians--

--cordoning the swirling, spheroid cloud, consolidating it, winnowing it down, honing it--

--gathering it to a tight-packed globe barely the size of a basketball.

And Liz. Liz held up her left hand, and dangling from that hand was a thing about the size of a shoebox with a gate on the overside, and it dangled on the end of a long thick dark dark dark green cable.

Taking ahold of a handle that cropped out from the back at the top, Liz slid this-- it slid, defying expectations, over the empty void of black space, as though some gravitational plane had materialised for the purpose.

The device slid to a stop beneath Wildfire's contained form.

And then the gate snapped open and searing bright bright bright green light emanated forth, an irresistible tractoring force, dragging that contained energy down into it like a toy boat in a maelstrom.

The box snapped shut.

The four men dissolved into emerald light, and then into nothing.

Liz flew over to the box; smoke curled up from it, again, despite this being impossible in a vacuum, all part of the illusion, attention to detail.

She picked it up by the cable, swung it back and forth like a pendulum, tick-tock, tick-tock.

Faintly, faintly, she smirked. "'No job is too big, no fee is too big.'"

"Jonah's going to kill me that I did that without him," she pointed out. Then: "All right, who wants him?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

“I am Celestial Class Knight Allana Lang of the House of Kent of The Order. As for the medallion, it cannot be removed. To do so would mean the end of my life. The Apothecarion informed my father that it rests very near mine heart. If I die, that which is bound by me will be released. Free to claim another. Hence, I carry it still. Even though the Techpreists and Medicae inform me that I can be brought back from the brink of death, I shall let no other take my place as the Guardian of the Deamon.”

As they walked and Allana talked, Ceriel digested the intriguing nomenclature weilded by the lady knight, "Apothecarion" and so forth. And reflected not for the first time on the predicament in which the young woman found herself.

So much has been asked of someone so small.

Would that this cup had been passed from her. But then again, not our will, but Thine...

Pausing in her speech as they walked she blushed. “My apology Hol.. Ceriel. I tend to get Defensive.. it’s a habit of battle. You begin to see everything as either an attack, or a withdraw.”

"Take it from an old soldier," Ceriel suggested. "It's not a bad habit to have. I've gotten into that habit myself over the span of years. But take this, too: once in awhile, you have to break that habit, give yourself a semblance of a normal life. Take up a trade, start a family. If only for a little while. Because a soul deprived of rest will form cracks just as surely as a mind deprived of dreams. And a soul takes rest in the simple, and the routine."

"You are called upon to be a great and terrible force in this Universe," Ceriel reflected. "But sometimes. Sometimes you must simply be a girl."

Making a conscious effort she moved herself from the brisk pace of military precision, settling into a flowing step more at home on a dance floor than a parade ground.

"If it pleases you, I am called Allana."

"It pleases me, Allana," Ceriel replied, mulling this shift in pace.

What profits a woman who conquers the world if it cost her her soul?

But despite everything. Despite everything. You still have your soul.

And in the end, that'll mean everything.

She smiled, brightly, and then glanced ahead at the armoury. "It pleases me very much."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Element Lad stood still for a moment.

He felt... divided.

Many had perished this morning. Many, many had perished.

And he had a duty, as The Legion's de facto spiritual advisor, to tend the fallen and perform whatever last rites he could offer them.

But was his first duty not to the living?

After all, Wildfire...

...as transcendent as Wildfire seemed over and above the limitations of weak flesh, even an entity such as he had to have his limits. What if, just this once, he had overstepped his boundaries in more than just protocol? What if he had taxed himself beyond his ability to reincorporate?

Fate and Wildfire had long been partners, unofficially. As inseparable as brothers, it had seemed.

I should tell him.

Gently, he touched Lightning Lass' shoulder. "Ayla."

Blinking, smiling a weary smile, Ayla turned to face him. "Jan."

Full of the seriousness of his purpose, Element Lad's forehead took on furrows that briefly reminded Ayla of home. "Fate. In which direction did he depart with Wraith?"

Ayla's ruddy eyebrow climbed her own forehead, and she did her best to supress a grin as she pointed out the hall down which Fate had moments ago vanished. "Thattaway. Toward Wraith's room, was going to just give him a lie-down."

"Many thanks," Jan nodded, and hurried off.

Ayla watched him go, then shook her head, and, despite everything, couldn't hold back the grin anymore. "Totally a cute couple."

Putting on a bit of speed, the curly-haired blond youth managed to round a bend and catch sight of the retreating sorcerer. He called out, trying to remain professional, spiritual, detached, but unable to keep the clamour of worry from his voice... "Fate! Your three namesakes continue to conspire against us, though their ways, as ever, are cloaked in mystery from our sight. It's your... 'partner.' It's ERG-1."

 

[Lunaramblings]

Fate was off in his own world. He was strolling through the hall. Trying to distance himself from Nabu. His ranting at Fate was at a high. He had wanted Fate to use the full extent of his powers. To forget the Legion by laws. To take vengeance for the fallen. But Jonah refused. He didn't care how unbalanced the scales were. He would not defy the oath he had taken. An oath he believed in.

Then he heard his Moniker. Fate... And the tone. The voice. Jan rarely was shaken. The words didn't register at first. Then they hit him. Wildfire had done something stupid. Not a first, but this sounded worse than usual. Wildfire often found himself getting chewed out, usually over the collateral damage he sometimes caused. A ship he disabled beyond repair, a millenia old vase he broke over someone's head. But this. This was not his usual thing. Something was wrong.

"What? He's not... I mean, we aren't.... sorry, that term, in my vernacular it is often used differently. Partners. Is he okay?" Fate looked down at the glowing gurney he was controlling. With a small utterance a construct of astral energy was formed and began to take over the job of returning Wraith to his quarters. Fate was already moving toward Jan. "Jan, please, he is like a brother, bring me to him." As he moved, Fate sent home his Mantle. This was a time in which he did not need Nabu interfering. Not now. Jonah was once again Jonah. His countenance was grim. His eyes wet. This was not the way he normal behaved around the Legion. But he needed to be only Jonah. At least for now.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"What? He's not... I mean, we aren't.... sorry, that term, in my vernacular it is often used differently. Partners. Is he okay?"

Jan arched an eyebrow, he hadn't expected that part of the sentence to be the problematic one. "Forgive me. My wording was... poorly chosen. ERG-1 has taken massive energies into himself, and he seemed to take this upon himself with great finality. His status is... inconclusive. But I thought. For worse or better. That you would want to be there for him. If I have chosen this, too, poorly, I must beg your forgiveness still again."

Fate looked down at the glowing gurney he was controlling. With a small utterance a construct of astral energy was formed and began to take over the job of returning Wraith to his quarters. Fate was already moving toward Jan. "Jan, please, he is like a brother, bring me to him." As he moved, Fate sent home his Mantle. This was a time in which he did not need Nabu interfering. Not now. Jonah was once again Jonah. His countenance was grim. His eyes wet. This was not the way he normal behaved around the Legion. But he needed to be only Jonah. At least for now.

Jan touched Jonah upon the shoulder, his eyes deep and full of empathy.

"Come with me," he murmured, and led the way. "The Green Lantern woman has gone to his location. It is my hope she shall bring him home in moments."

"Come with me."

And as they hurried, words tumbled across Jan's thoughts. Not Scripture. Not precisely. But almost as holy, and somehow... appropriate...

'One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.
Nine nundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him.
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more talk
Than he uses yours for his spendings,
And laugh and meet in your daily walk
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man h's worth 'em all,
Because you can show him your feelings.

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight --
With that for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot -- and after!'
-Rudyard Kipling.

********​

...and, left to their own devices, the shimmering forms of the gurney and the construct piloting it manoeuvered down the hall. They reached the lift, and the construct's psychokinetic finger poked the proper key.

The lift rose. The doors opened. And they shimmered on...

Until they reached Wraith's quarters. The door here, too, opened.

And in the quarters of The Lord of Shadow, the construct's glow diminished--

--as though the darkness here had a life of its own, swallowing the shimmers even as they danced through the air.

A pool of light from the hall spilled onto the floor of the room, barely penetrating the black that had engulfed this chamber. One could not even make out the furniture. The windows permitted no sunlight to enter.

Bulbs of lamps and light fixtures were unresponsive.

"You've done well," intoned a voice from within the invisible fathoms, all cool and purpose and volatility kept under careful wraps. "I shall take him from here."

From this present darkness came a woman blue of skin and dark of hair, her long locks billowing down her back. As she emerged from the darkness into that solitary pool of luminescence, the shadows seemed unwilling to relinquish her, and it seemed as though for a moment she wore nothing at all but shadow... But then the shadows parted just enough, and while she wore not a great deal, what she wore was dark black cloth, eerie and barbaric in these bright and shining utopian times.

Her ears came to points. Her muscles were taut and her curves formidable. She traced her fingers down the cheek of the unconscious being upon that gurney carved from thought.

"Welcome back," she murmured. "Our Lord and Saviour. Blessed and Merciless."

And with muscles startlingly strong, she bore him up from the gurney, and the gurney and its pilot both dissolved into their component shimmers, having fulfilled their solemn duty.

The door hissed again closed, plunging the room into utter blackness.

But the woman there navigated the swallowing oubliette depths with ease. She saw as if it were sun-zenith, the brightness at the median of the day.

She laid him there, gently upon the bed, and brushed her long-nailed fingers through the blond of his long long hair.

She closed her eyes, and said a prayer of thanks to her ancestors and ancestresses, extended them her gratitude that she should be the one entrusted with this duty, most honoured among Champions. Not in thousands of years had there been a Champion amongst her people entrusted with this opportunity, this duty, not since The Beginning.

And then she slithered into bed with him, there in the night that was the middle of the morning. She slithered into bed with him and curled up against his side, half-covering him with her body, gentle, gentle, careful not to wake him, but leaving him not vulnerable to attack while he slept.

Tasmia Mallor. The tenebrous Shadow Lass.

"Dream," she murmured softly to him. "I will watch over you."