The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

[AmenRa]

Zod

With ultimate satisfaction, second only to the soon-to-be-seen kneeling of Zor-El's offspring, General Zod watched J'onn J'onzz burn.

But, even better than that, Zod watched the Martian scream in fear.

Long ago, when there was a Krypton and a Science Council, the Martian Manhunter had arrested Zod and brought him before the Council, where a pompous and arrogant Zor-El had sent him to the Phantom Zone.

For Zod, watching J'onn burn with fear fire was more than payback, more than retribution, it was justice.

Zod poured heat onto the Martian, and the temperature soared upwards to Solar levels.

All the while, Zod smiled.

Until something struck him in the back of the head, and there was a 'pop', like an explosion.

And then a million tiny pinpricks erupted all over his skin as a vaporous cloud of green enveloped him.

Zod's face flushed, and his eyes stopped their onslaught of the Manhunter.

The General rolled, tumbling away from the airborne fragments of the exploded Kryptonite. He shook his head as he came to rest on one knee, trying to clear the poison from him before he fell victim to it. He took stock of his attacker, and was aware of a bat-like shape. He saw the others around, and then he saw the charred body of J'onn J'onzz.

Zod wanted to win. He would win, in the end, he knew, but now he must retreat and plan. He was weakened, and vulnerable, and his resources now were few.

Let them have it. It will soon be given to me in tribute.

And with the very last reserve of power he could find deep within himself, Zod lept into the air and flew away from the battle he started.

He flew as fast as he could, for somewhere on this tiny, pathetic world, the yellow sun Sol still shown.

 

[camerindrake]

Black Hood saw what was happening to J'onn began to run and pulled out an k explosive shuriken. He then threw it and pulled out the detinator.
Black Hood then screamed, "Now, Dark Knight, Now!"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Pete

Merick grinned, though in the form he currently occupied it was hard to tell.

"Red huh? Red Rocket, Red Robin, Red Tornado? Lets roll."

Merick swooshed them to the place where Zod's men had unearthed the cave.

"What we lookin for Red Devil?"

Pete made to chide the man, and then paused.

"That second one ain't bad," he mused. "They have this great burger, with pineapple, totally kicked my ass last time I had it."

He shook his head though, as he cast about quickly in the small space of this cave, musty-smelling though it was. Far from needing the NVG's Dale had brought Pete, Merick's green blazing form was providing decent light.

"(Wouldn't do to rip 'em off. But a tribute wouldn't be terrible.)"

He ran his fingers over various artefacts, several mouldering chests.

"'Robin Red?'" he wondered

And there, in the back, he saw a statue of a rain god. A little thing on a little pedestal.

On its chest was The Symbol of Water.

Pete grabbed it. "Agua!"

He put the thing on its side atop one of those mouldering chests and pounded a nightstick through it.

The little stone skittered out. A tiny little thing, and Pete caught it up.

"Robin Red's gotta fly, Starheart," Pete breathed, as he held up Water in Merick's green glow. "Let's jet."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Bruce

Bruce takked the key on his own detonator as the bats flew in, and they burst as little green fireworks amidst the fiery furnace of Zod's gaze.

Zod fell, down but not out.

Damian ran, throwing a dart of his own...

Black Hood then screamed, "Now, Dark Knight, Now!"

...but Zod vanished in a blur of black, vanished up into the night.

Bruce lowered his fist. Dammit!

He tried, with all his might, to not let disappointment get the better of him.

(This wasn't the first time a bad man had gotten away from him, and he still owed the first one something. He could owe Zod and the first man simultaneously.)

"Another time, Black Hood," he murmured. "There will be another time."

He glanced at Wraith, and then at The Martian...

"We have wounded to attend," he murmured. "Zod can wait."

He glanced at Black Hood. 'Dark Knight?' he wondered silently, with an eerie sense of omen.

And as he wondered, he walked over to The Martian's form, still bubbling and hissing from that deluge of fire.

He drooped to one knee, running his fingers over the green humanoid's form without quite touching it.

"Tell me, Black Hood," he called over his shoulder. "Does any of your future knowledge include healing? Extraterrestrial healing?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri

The thugs were in shambles.

What men weren't dead or unconscious were running for their lives.

Their god had abandoned them.

Ceri bit back the urge to make a Nietzsche reference when she laid eyes upon the fallen Wraith.

"Awh, shite," she breathed, and ran to the fool boy's side, falling to her knees in the grime. "Don't be dead, yeh daft demon. If you're dead, you'll break my Rosy's heart. And then I'd have to kill you."

She put her ear to his chest. Could she even hear a heartbeat through all that damn bony metal armour?

 

[Lunaramblings]

Merick seized Pete's arm and swooshed them back to the field.

"We're out! Pull back!!" Merick supportd Kyle on a bed of Force, pulling him along.

Outsiders!! On me!! Let's Roll!!

Merick was no doctor, but he could tell Kyle was in bad sorts.

Dale staggered toward his son. From the body of the tormented Doctor Tennylson came something unique.

Two distinct voices were coming from the good Doctor.

"We are done. Go away."

"Oh I have only begun. You locked me up for years Daley-Boy. I aint goin no where. Not with so many people left to Ravage. Oh how pleased-"

"Enough. I let you come out for this. But no you go back. I put you there once. I can do it again."

The two voices then begin to speak so rapidly they can be distinguished ut not understood.

Dale drops to a knee.

"Helpme... tired... thirsty... hel-"

 

[camerindrake]

Damian

Black Hood ran over to J'onn.

"J'onn, J'onn look at me." Black Hood said as he tried to get the Martian to look at him. He followed by saying, "Get your ass in orbit. We didn't get Zod. We are going to need you back to 100%"

He hoped he was getting through. Fire was traumatic for the Martian he knew. He didn't have a clue how long it would take for J'onn to snap out of it. His father had never gave a straight up time limit it took for the Martian even being around it to snap out of the fear induced panic. Let alone being in the fire.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

I walked down a road. It was dark, but not. I could see the eddy's and swirls where shadows caressed the road, and feel a cool breeze on my face. Looking up the sky was swirling with the ever-present clouds of Shadow, lavender energy swirling in the sky, leaping from cloud to cloud.

I continued on until I saw a shape ahead of me. It was a old woman. On her back was what looked like her weight in firewood, the branches and tender in a bundle.

"Let me take this weight off your back Grandmother" I said as I walked up to her.

She stopped and looked at me. Her lavender eyes looking me over, her slightly pointed ears peeking out of her hair. She looked me over and then laid the bundle down.

"Who be ye boy? I know all the farms, crofts and those who serve Our Lord, but ye I don't know? Aye, it matters not if ye will take a weight from an old womans back. Come along boy, my croft is not far and the Loche need fed."

I walked over to pick up the bundle, but it would not budge. It was as if it weighed five hundred stone!! I tugged and tugged but it would not budge.

The old woman walked over, looking at me. " So, ye not be here in flesh, ye be here in spirit?" she made a "tsik"-ing sound. "Ye must have been daft and played with something that ye was not ready for. The Lady has plans for you, and losing your spirit on your birth world would upset her greatly. Off with ye! Come back in truth and we can talk. Seek out Lysille, and i shall tell ye things you need to know."

She reached out and placed a finger on my forehead, and everything turned dark! Mist swirled around me, and blackness took me over again.

Back on earth, shadows swirled around the body of Wraith, and spat out the form of a battered, bleeding and broken boy.

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

Kara took one last look at the items handed to her before she decided that it wasn’t her style. She wanted to face everyone as she was…

“I appreciate the offer, but I just don’t feel right wearing it,” Kara said with a final nod.

Rose finally arrived to join their little gathering, and Alfred gave her the rundown on what happened recently. Kara heard talk of the ‘bad man’ gaining the object of his desires, and she knew instantly that it was Zod he had been talking about.

Zod…

Just the mere mention of his name would send most cowering into the corner. Yet Kara never had the chance to face his wrath, and so upon hearing his accursed name all she could do was clench her fist together, desperately craving the chance to put him into his rightful place.

But it was not her time to do so.

Alfred made mention of their going off in search of one of the stones, and J’onn soon arrived to join them back outside. His words were brief but ominous. The way he spoke to her… it was almost a combination of hope and sorrow.

“It has been an honor,” J’onn said, and it was in that moment that she knew he was leaving her to face Zod. She wanted to tell him to stay… to tell her that he would be at her side while she prepared herself.

J’onn was gone before Kara could even say goodbye. She watched his form fade into the distance, leaving naught but a streak of red light in the sky until he was no longer in her sight. Diana asked whether either of them knew how to fight, and Kara shook her head in answer.

If she had been asked whether she knew how to fire in a fence post then Kara would have nodded her head in the affirmative.

But fighting?

She could probably hold her own, and in fact she had had her strength tested earlier in the week when she had been attacked in Smallville High, though she knew that sort of fight paled in comparison to the kind of fight that would go down with Zod around.

“I can hold my own,” Kara said with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“But I’d prefer to fight without any sort of gear on. A cape might be nice, though” she said, the suggestion having been made without any sort of seriousness. But the idea was a little catchy. If everyone was wearing costumes and masks, why couldn’t she? She’d be the Nietschian fantasy ideal all wrapped up in a red cape.

“A Supergirl,” Kara said to herself, even smiling a little.

 

[Wyldfire]

Diana listened to the other girls' answers to her. One was an acceptable answer, but the second seemed not as confident. Why should a demigoddess be bothered with knowing to fight after all. That was something that Diana could help with if they survived this. "If you're not going to wear it may a take a bit of it? I think it should shield you from the harm of one of my weapons until it is time for me to use it," she said calmly, "And if we know where we are to go then I should go get that weapon."

She held out a hand hoping Kara would have the sense to not give her the garment, and instead to wear it.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Pete, Ceri, and Bruce

Pete, almost reflexively, Pavlovian, put himself in between Dale and Merick Tennylson. He shoved Water into his jacket pocket.

Not gonna let the crazy person hurt his kiddo.

The first aid kit came open, and a new vial was loaded into the injector-gun. He'd had a chance to look at the things in the kit, and while he hadn't recognised all of them, he'd looked at the fine print on the jars and he knew the gist of what they did.

And now he loaded a sedative. Put the injector to Dale's neck.

It was a powerful sedative. But it was a tiny dose. Might not even be enough to take Dale off of his feet... depending on the man's strength of will, which seemed formidable. But it might be enough to cool him out.

"May all your roughness be unnecessary," he breathed, and pulled the trigger.

Trusting to hope, then, he gave Dale over to the sedative and kept going, kept walking, the medic's job wasn't over, wasn't done with. Merick had forcefields to keep him safe, after all.

As Pete moved, as he jogged towards Wraith, he saw Ceri kneeling over the man-demon-guy, checking for BPM or something, though she got to her feet when Merick used those forcefields as a gurney...

...Pete reloaded the RL65.

He stopped, though, hesitated. That armour looked pretty thick. The injector could fire its stuff in through clothes, but armour?

But then Wraith, as if in answer to his question, shed his armour in a howl of shadow and a bay of ghost-cry and reverted to a mortal state.

(Ceri blinked and arched an eyebrow, startled by the sudden change.)

"Gracias, amigo," Pete murmured, kneeling just long enough to vent some of the creepy purple healing potion into Kyle's chest.

He sat back, nervous, and then glanced across at the fallen Martian, with Bruce and The Hood hovering over him.

Pete looked at the injector, and then back at The Martian.

"Sucrose was poison to Spock," he mumbled. "How do I know this ain't poison to your green ass?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Chloe, Gabe, Jamie, Rose, and Alfred

Wraith hurtled into view on the satellite cams, and Chloe's breath caught in her throat.

She felt her father grab her shoulder.

But then light of a kind flashed around Wraith, and his wind-resistance profile changed from bipedal symmetry to spheroidal.

"Merick," Chloe murmured.

And then she snapped her fingers before the laptop's screen.

"Focus," she prompted the A.I. "They're good. They'll get each other's backs. (I'm worried about them, too.) We've got a mission of our own."

"Not Shanghai, exactly," Jamie muttered, bringing The Tablet back to the table and calling up a GPS navigation system on the red Alienware. He squinted hard at the screen. "Allowing for variations, potential imprecision in the mapping..."

He poked the screen. "Here. Here-here. There's an old temple driving distance from Shanghai. S'weird, though. The actual intersection of the lines converges outside the temple. Short but significant distance. (Wonder what that means. Gravesite of some kind, perhaps? Crystal's buried there?)"

He pulled a Moleskine out of his pocket, one very much like the one he'd given Rose, and tore off a page to jot down the co-ordinates.

"You cracked that kind of quickly," Gabe blinked, disbelieving.

Jamie smiled a weary but self-confident smile: "Didn't I tell you? I'm brilliant."

"Yes," Chloe nodded, a little bit breathless, giddy with discovery. "Yes you are."

She popped to her feet and, snagging the page from Jamie, jogged across the room and peered out into the hall where Alfred and The Three Angels were waiting.

She arched her eyebrow at the new girl, but Rose and Kara-- I knew it. --seemed to trust her. And J'onn wouldn't've brought raven-hair along if he'd read her mind and found treachery, Chloe felt sure.

"Are you guys good to go?" she wondered, nodding respectfully to the three of them but hurrying them along at the same time. Their interval might be short. "You're going to China, outside Shanghai. That's where our strongest leads on Air are all leading us."

"China?" Rose blinked, boggled, paled. "For serious? 'Hou2zi5 de5 pi4gu5!' ('Yi1qi3 shen1hu1xi1.')"

Chloe arched both eyebrows at the outburst. "Uh, sure. What you said, Cerebra."

Alfred frowned. "I suppose it's worth noting," he murmured, "(without trying to be all Puddleglum about it), the issue of... transportation?"

Chloe digested that for a moment, and then glanced at Kara, Diana, and Rose.

"The Gentleman has a point," she regretfully acknowledged. "I don't reckon one of you has a fold-up supersonic private jet or something stowed away somewhere on your person? (An invisible one, of course. If it were visible, I would have seen it by now.)"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Veritos- What The Plant Manager Learned

A few minutes ago.​

Gabe had run a search, run-of-the-mill.

Yahoo, just to be different.

But one of the search results he had come across was a file from Chloe's silver Gateway, a hit from her own search history, shared as it now was amongst all four machines. And when he went to that result, he discovered a website full of backwards Latin and glyphic links embedded in photographs.

'Oh shit,' he'd shivered.

Even without his daughter's not-inconsiderable intelligence, Gabe had felt the import of these writings. He couldn't even read Latin forwards, but he'd known this was huge.

And he'd done what Chloe hadn't had time to do: he'd taken his time, scrolling through the articles, trying to get a hint or two. Trying to get context.

Until he'd found, embedded in one of those photographs, the backwards word "Veritos." Spelled with an "o."

And, on an impulsive whim, on an instinct deep in the core of his gut, he'd clicked on that "o." The entire website realigned before his very eyes, translating itself into English and reversing its script so as to be right-way-'round.

Gabriel Sullivan had learned a great deal very quickly.

The Veritos Society had been around for nearly a thousand years, though there were gaps in those thousand years in which The Society had shattered and had been re-formed.

The original had been founded on October 14, 1066, after a sworn oath by Harold the First of England to William of Normandy-- an oath regarding the proper ownership of prophesied The Elements of Power --had been broken by Harold, ultimately ending in Harold's death on the battlefield at Hastings. Over Harold's corpse, over the arrow still quivering in his eye-socket, William and his greatest counselors swore anew that the quest for The Elements would not be taken lightly.

No more would untested fools like Harold be trusted with the promise of The Elements. Only the best and brightest minds would be tapped to find their secrets. The Elements had been promised. And when they came, humanity would be ready.

Veritos had faltered a variety of times over the next few centuries, but always a member of a following generation would find their scribbled writings and take up the work anew.

...the most shattering blow came when The Traveler delivered The Elements unto The Earth, dividing them up into three, and paid not one whit of attention to The Society.

(What worth had Veritos been? If not even the deliverer of The Elements believed them worthy, had they been fools to ever think they were capable of receiving the gift?)

There was talk of dissolving The Society after that, dissolving it forever, though splinters of extreme zealotry did try to gather up the disparate Elements, tried to unite them in China. This was doomed to failure; a Spanish bandit died before he could make good on his promise, costing them Water.

Fire was lost on a trade route in Egypt. (Legend had it that the caravan had been attacked by one of the mythical Metamorphae, long thought to have been extinct, and that this elemental shapechanger had dragged Fire with him beneath the sands, promising to entomb and defend it so long as breath remained in his immortal lungs.)

...but then came The Witch.

The Countess Isobel. She and her little underlings sought to reap the benefits of The Elements, to live as gods, to become rulers of ultimate power over the face of The Earth, and The Society again was re-made.

The Countess' enemy, The Duchess Gertrude, was at this Society's head, with a sworn edict that she and her own followers prevent, at all costs, the retrieval of The Elements-- by now also called The Stones --by the narcissistic, power-hungry Countess.

They succeeded, but only at the cost of executing The Countess and her coven-mates, and thereby losing whatever clues the young woman had amassed in her fervour. After one last meeting in the Scottish castle they had taken as their meeting-place, this Society, too, disbanded, broken-hearted.

Things cooled after that. Things cooled for nearly four hundred years.

But certain traditions were kept in certain families. Certain histories did not go untold.

Until there came, in the ebbing days of The Twentieth Century, a scientist by the name of Virgil Swann.

And he, as in the days of old, as William The Conqueror had done over his cousin Harold's fallen form, called together the greatest minds and resources of his generation.

Men and women of intelligence and hope and strength and finance.

Titans of industry who were also philanthropists.

It was quite a list of names, but somehow Gabriel Sullivan could only focus in on only one of those names, towards the top, one of the very cornerstones of Swann's Veritos.

Lionel Luthor.

 

[AmenRa]

The Martian Manhunter

Pain.

Every nerve ending was on fire. Every piece of what was left of his body burned with a pain a thousand times beyond what one could even imagine was the worst.

He wasn't so sure he hadn't died, and if so, then this was what it was like to be born yet again.

Pain.

He opened his eyes, but could not see. The irises had been seared and scalded. He was still on his knees, hunched over and contorted with his face on the foul-smelling muddy earth.

They spoke to him, but he did not hear. They did not see him move. Pete Ross even plunged a hypo of venom into his body, and still he did not move.

He did not move because he was summoning; calling on power still left in him, just as air still moved in and out of lungs that had since been charred.

I will not yield.

I have fought tyranny, and evil, and brought them to justice.

I will not yield.

They have hurt me before. Always one who believes they are The One. Always one who takes the place of many.

I will not yield.

Fire killed me, but this world would have me live. Brother Earth gives back to me that which was taken. I will fear fire no more!

That which does not kill me makes me stronger. And now I am the strongest of all.

I am J'onn J'onzz, and I will not yield!

And the others saw the Martian Manhunter close a fist so tight that charred skin gave way to bone. And then he drove that fist into the Earth so that a shock wave tremorred across ground. And he stood up, shakily, his balance quavering for an instant. He spoke not a word, saw not a thing, yet he raised his face to Heaven.

And the Martian Manhunter rose into the air, going up, up, and away to outer space and the healing power of a Red Planet.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Wraith

Liquid coursed through the blood of Kyle Greystone. Bones began to knit, and bruises started fading.

Then the power in his blood rose up, and silenced the intruder in his body. The superficial wounds had healed, but the deep bruising and the ribs and arm were still fractured, just not as bad.

And for the first time in over a year, he slept.

A sound woke me up. I didn't recognize it, and it was quiet now, but something woke me up.

I sat up and looked at my clock. Ugh! It was after three in the morning! If the twins were out of bed dad was going to kill them. I better get them back in there before they lost their cartoons privileges.

I had just opened my door when I heard a scream, then a wet sound. I was out the door and around the corner when I saw it, and I stopped, frozen.

I couldn't scream

I couldn't move.

I was powerless.

It was big. bigger than dad. Bigger than Don, Mom's bodyguard.
And it was covered in blood. It dripped from it's clawed hands. It fell down it's chin and over it's chest, soaking what remained of it's shirt. And it was standing over Bekkas bleeding body.

Red snakelike eyes met mine, and it hissed.

"Fressssh meat."

I called upon Shadow. I was gonna blast this thing into oblivion, then bring it back so I could do it again!

But nothing happened.

I reached down and picked Bekka up, then buried it's face into her chest. She screamed, then bones cracked with a sickening sound, and I heard ripping noises.

Bekka stopped moving. The creature threw her aside and turned to me. Blood running down it's chest, it stared toward me.

I tried and tried to call on my powers, and they failed me again and again.

I could feel his hot breath on my face, smell the charnal stench of his breath. I sensed him lunge down.....


I woke with a gasp, bolting upright heedless of the pain that coursed through me.

"I couldn't save them, I couldn't save them.."

Then I collapsed onto Ceri, tears pouring down my face as I let loose grief I had carried for years. The nightmare bringing it back, and I could not keep it inside anymore. I kept muttering those words over and over again as I wept.

 

[AmenRa]

Sightless and in pain, the Martian Manhunter flew higher and higher until he left the surely bonds of Earth.

In open space, high above the blue and green sphere that he had adopted as his home, he rested, soaking in cosmic rays and the very thing that was space.

In time, his power sparked, and he felt himself beginning to renew. He flew again, coursing through space in silence and without sound, turning his course towards a red planet not too terribly far from Earth.

As he neared the world of red sand, he opened his arms, aligning himself with the apparent face that rose from its surface, and he called out to the desert of the world that was once his home.

He dared not enter the atmosphere of Mars, so he stopped short, and even through the silence of space, he listened.

They spoke to him, the voices of the past, the voices of loved ones long gone.

He floated there, in space, in view of the great Olympus Mons, and his heart saddened even as his body grew stronger.

But he remembered them, and even though it pained him, he heard their voices, felt their love, and he was stronger for it.

Sometimes, the mind must heal before the body.

And there in the cold blackness of space, J'onn J'onzz smiled even as tears froze on his face.

 

[Lunaramblings]

Dale Tennylson collapsed.

Merick stood by worried. What the hell had he just witnessed.

"If everyone is ready I think we should go home. Everyone hang on." There was a flash of green as Merick enveloped his friends.

In less than 5 seconds the group visited several places. Hawaii, Colorado, Oklahoma, El Paso, a small not-quiet-Mexican eatery, and finally, they arrived in Smallville.

There was a mighty swooshing bang as the group landed, perfectly, in Bruce Wayne's front yard.

"Sorry, we are a bit spaced out. Didn't want to risk dropping anyone inside a wall. Also, sorry bout the detours, figured if anyone was following it might help mask our final destination."

Merick elevated Dale on a platform of force. He slowly began towing Dale toward the house. As he reached the steps he turned and faced his battered father. He simply throws up a hand, wrapping his father in bonds of glowing green. "Sorry Pops."

 

[TearsoftheWorld]

Though Kara seemed determined not to wear the articles in question, Diana's words made her at least reconsider the idea. She could at least take it with her, perhaps using them when the time was right. She took one last look at them before Chloe stuck her head outside.

"Well... I can't exactly fly yet. But I can run pretty fast," Kara said.

But the China?

China was like five million miles away from Smallville, or at least civilization in general seemed to be that far away. And separating the United States from China was the Pacific Ocean...

Kara was pretty sure she couldn't run over water.

"I don't have planes. My weekly allowance probably couldn't even buy me a car if I wanted one," Kara added.

"Maybe we can borrow a plane from one of the Luthor's," Kara joked.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Chloe, Alfred, and Rose

"Not my favourite notion in the world," Chloe muttered. "Lionel's not exactly in my Top Eight."

"He's not all bad, Miss Sullivan," Alfred mused. "Just, eh, mostly bad. If my memory is to be believed, he has an interest in the topic at hand. (I never got to sit in on the discussions, that wasn't the way it worked, but I got the impression that Luthor was at odds with the others on a lot of things.)"

Chloe made a face at Alfred like he just said something very interesting and very troubling and made to press the point...

Alfred waved her off. "But I digress. Unfortunately, Masta' Bruce and I cannot access the full monetary worth of his family's fortune-- trust funds, and all --otherwise I would have a Wayne Enterprises jet meet you at Metropolis Airport within the hour."

"No offence, Mister Pennyworth," Chloe winced, "but 'within the hour' wouldn't do it for us anyway. Luthorcorp has a plane in the sky already. Not sure who's on board, but The BRAINIAC is with them. We have to beat them there."

Alfred pondered.

Pondered hard.

"Can you use your fantastic speed to get out to California? To Coast City?" he glanced at Diana and Kara.

("I'll probably have to ride piggyback," Rose mumbled, rubbing the back of her head.)

"If you can get out to Coast City, to a place called Ferris Aircraft," Alfred murmured, "there's an ould war mate of mine working there named 'Pieface.' I shall call him and tell him to give you lot a lift on the fastest jet he can 'borrow.'"

Chloe blinked. "That almost sounds doable. (Almost.)"

She glanced at the girls. "(Does that sound doable?)"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri

Ceri's eyes went wide as Kyle surged to consciousness beside her, though they hadn't narrowed entirely yet from when she'd widened them at his transformation.

But then he. Shattered.

His heart, the heart she'd tried to listen to only moments previously, it all went to little pieces in his chest and tears, real tears, soaked the shoulder of her jacket.

She stiffened a little bit, she was still riding the combat high, still primed for aggression, still ready to put boot to face for her daughter and for the world.

But she was a mother first and a warrior second and while this lad had lost his mum, she was the closest nearby approximation.

Ceri wrapped Kyle up in her arms and she held up, rocked him back and forth, occasionally kissing the top of his head.

"Shhh, shhh," he murmured to him, her Welsh accent thickening somewhat with the tears that threatened like pinpricks, like thunderheads, behind her own eyes.

She remembered her own father, dead when she was sixteen.

She remembered feeling Claire slip through her fingertips as Claire, slowly but surely, was drawn into one of the darkest of lives.

She remembered watching James being consumed by his work, obsessing, until in desperate surrender Ceri packed up her things and their daughter and left him behind.

"We try to save them," she whispered, "over and over again. The ones we've lost. We try to save them. But at the end of the day, those we save are here in the present, and the ones we've lost seem beyond our reach."

Ceri kissed Kyle's forehead softly, wiping at his tears and at his nose with a packet of Kleenex from her jacket pocket.

"It's hard to remember," she murmured, "that the ones we couldn't save are still safe with us in our hearts, and they always will be. We carry them around within us, proud and strong, and they love us for it. It's hard to remember that; I don't always manage it. It's hard to remember this, but it's important, Kyle. They're with you, and they're safe."

She almost didn't notice-- Kyle all in her arms, focused on his pain --that they'd been swoooshed back to America by the scenic route until she looked up and saw the warm lights of Wayne Manour.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Bruce and Pete

Damian was pleading with J'onzz, demanding that he sit up, take notice, put himself back together. In space?

Bruce frowned... it seemed like forever between heartbeats. The Martian powerhouse was impossibly still, frighteningly still.

Still like his mother and father, laying side-by-side in his mother's scattered pearls on the Crime Alley ground.

Focus.

He glanced back over his shoulder at Pete, eyes glinting behind the lenses of his cowl. Pete, standing there between J'onzz and Greystone, an awkward look in his eyes.

Bruce gestured to Pete, sharply. "What're you waiting for?"

"Dunno if it's compatible with his biology," Pete murmured. "It's like McCoy trying to give CPR to the Klingon Chancellor that one time."

"And maybe," Bruce growled, "it'll give him just enough of a jumpstart to shapeshift himself back together."

Pete hesitated for a moment more. "Okay, blood types, you don't give a dude a transfusion--"

"WE. ARE. LOSING. HIM." Bruce snarled. "If you're not going to take the damn risk, then give me the injector."

"Nawh," Pete shook his head, ran to kneel by J'onzz' side. "Nawh. I'm the medic. I'll take the heat."

I wanna do this for a living someday, this is the sort of thing I'ma deal with hourly.

He paused for a moment, said a little prayer. Said a little prayer to God and, for good measure, to Apollo Physician and Asclepios and Hygeia and Panacea and all the gods and goddesses.

And then with a hiss, he blurted RL65 into J'onn J'onzz.

And nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

Pete sat back, and pulled his mask off, and shook his head. "Dammit."

...but then! But then, far and away long after the RL65 should have had its effect, J'onn raised a fist, slow and agonising. Raised a fist that flaked flesh right to the bone.

"Dios mio," Pete breathed. "Mierda santa."

Bruce was speechless, but he was fast enough to pull Pete aside when that bony burned broken fist crashed into The Earth.

And then The Man from Mars lurched to his feet... and even in his agony and his trembling and his disfiguration, he was beautiful.

Bruce remembered, briefly, a samurai legend from The Hakagure, one he had been fascinated with in the years since his parents' murder: A samurai, wrongfully convicted and executed, burned at the stake. An executioner sent to check on the slain convict... And the samurai, burned to death, then standing up and killing his executioner before dispersing into ash, because shamed or not a samurai never goes quietly so long as he is in the right.

The idea of that kind of discipline, that kind of will? That kind of determination? That, to Bruce Wayne, was beautiful.

"'If you're going through Hell,'" Bruce murmured, quoting Winston Churchill, "'keep going.'"

"Palabra," Pete breathed.

And then The Martian was gone, The Manhunter was roaring up into the sky in a billow and a streak of crimson light.

And then everyone was gone, The Outsiders were flashing across the world in a billow and a bubble of verdant light.

They stood on terra firma before Bruce's house, and he pulled his cowl off.

He stared at it for a moment, felt The Voice ebb out of him for use another time, saving itself. Even if it had to be back in moments, it was leaving him be for now.

"You all can stay here tonight, if you want," he declared, a little bit softly. "I mean, that was going to be the plan anyway. There's not much night left, but there's plenty of rooms."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

"It's hard to remember," Ceri said softly, "that the ones we couldn't save are still safe with us in our hearts, and they always will be. We carry them around within us, proud and strong, and they love us for it. It's hard to remember that; I don't always manage it. It's hard to remember this, but it's important, Kyle. They're with you, and they're safe."

I gave one last sniff, then drew in a deep breath.

She was right. I missed them. I missed them every day, but they would always be with me.

And I would always make them proud.

I looked at Mrs. McCrimmon. "Thank you."

Then I hugged her again. Tightly.

But something wasn't right.

"Ummm, when did it get so dark anyway?" I asked her, looking into her eyes with my own staring back at her.

Blue like the sky before a summer storm.

 

[camerindrake]

Damian

Black Hood watched as Pete injected the Manhunter from Mars.* The Manhunter was an amazing being he stood while still was in pain.* That much the Black Hood could see. Then the Martian then flew to get to a place he could heal.* A place Damian only saw for moments in his fathers rocket as they went to confront his mother.* Outer space* a great vastness of stars,* a place where sound can't be heard.*

Then the scene changed.* Multiple places passed before his eyes. He heard Wraiths pain.* He felt for him.* He lost much.* He understood loosing those you hold close to ones heart.* He wish he had the words to give him comphert.* But that wasn't Black Hoods way.* He was much better at seeking Justice for those lost.* Even better at vengence, however that was a path he left long ago.*

Once at the Wayne estate, he unbuckled the cowl and removed it.* At that moment he chose to spoke, "It is not over. Zod will continue his quest. We need to be ready. If we are lucky Zod, breathed in the meteor rock and won't be at 100%. But I wouldnt count on it. A good nights sleep is essential."

He looked to Bruce and finished, "Your generosity is much appriciated."

 

[Lunaramblings]

Merick looked up at Bruce.

"Thank you. We will crash fro a bit. But I am worried about Dad. He... somethings not right. I think it best if he stay out for a bit. I don't intend to let these bonds go until he is at least relatively back to normal.

Merick looked down at his father. Bound, battered by the demons deep within his soul.

"Pete, can you and Ms. McC keep an eye on him for a minute. I need to get Mom. And I think it best I explain a bit before I bring her to him like this."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri, and Pete

Ceri hugged Kyle back, grinning a lopsided, weary tearful grin, as she hugged Kyle back. She wasn't aware of the extent of his internal injuries, so maybe she hugged him a little tighter than she should have.

"All part of the service, Kyle," she assured him, which was a sort of way of telling him "you're welcome."

"Ummm, when did it get so dark anyway?" I asked her, looking into her eyes with my own staring back at her.

Blue like the sky before a summer storm.

She'd not noticed before. But here, under the front porchlights of Wayne Manour, his eyes were no longer-- what was it called? --"bioluminescent."

His eyes were no longer eerie and lavender and glowy and clashing with Rose's fire.

They were blue. And a warmer blue by far than Rose's icy azure.

"Sweets," Ceri murmured, her palm instinctively going to Kyle's forehead to check him for fever, "are you feeling all right? Your eyes. Your eyes... they're a proper colour. (Not that lavender isn't proper, no offence.)"

She bit the inside of her cheek. "Only it's been dark this whole time, Kyle. And aren't you supposed to be right at home in darkness?"

Merick looked worried on his father's behalf, and not unreasonably.

Pete wondered if Doc Tennylson might have some kind of military past that was causing him flashbacks. Could flashbacks bifurcate into multiple personalities?

"Pete, can you and Ms. McC keep an eye on him for a minute. I need to get Mom. And I think it best I explain a bit before I bring her to him like this."

Pete nodded easily, and clapped Merick on the shoulder. "You do your thing, m'man. I'll keep watch. Might wanna dial back on the aura, though, jumpin' in on your mom like that might be an even scarier fright than gettin' an eyeful of your dad bein' crazy. (No offence, dude, I'm just sayin'.)"

Ceri nodded, also, glancing up briefly from Kyle. "I'll keep half an eye," she smiled faintly. "I've got to keep the other half on this lad."