#79: Mad Love (Part 5 of 6)

First, there came a groan. A yawning bass note of anticipation, signalling that something massive was coming. But what? This place was a haven, a fortress, that kind of question should never have to be asked. But there it was, hanging in the air along with the noise… what was coming? What was coming?

The answer came not long after, mere moments as opposed to minutes-- the catastrophic explosion rattled the island violently, sending heavy, galloping ripples from ground zero out into the waters surrounding it.

Now, there was a gaping wound in the side of Arkham Island. The vast complex had been impenetrable since Dick Grayson directed it to be built, back when Bruce Wayne was thought dead. But now?

Now, not so much.

The dirty orange of the inmates’ jumpsuits-- worn by all of those under the care of the doctors-- spilled out like blood from the jagged slash in the skin of the facility, and the laughter, the cheers… it was a horrifying sight for those who lived to tell the story.

But many wouldn’t.

And locked inside, deep in the heart of Arkham Island, were Doctor Light and the Engineer…

…Along with the worst Gotham City had to offer.

JUSTICE LEAGUE

HALL OF JUSTICE, METROPOLIS:

Batman grimaced, as the gathered heroes psychically listened into the conversation Wonder Woman was having with the holographic projection of the Joker. He wanted to be in Switzerland by her side, but their teleporters were still down, Superman was zipping across the world helping the local teams they’d connected with, and there was no one else who could get him there in time.

The team’s fleet of Javelin jump-ships had left the building’s underground hanger earlier, dispatching teams to where they were needed, and the amount of Boom Tube projectors were limited, so the Dark Knight Detective was working the global crime scene remotely, using the information fed to them by Cyborg’s next generation connections as the world’s power grids revved back up… trying to figure out where the Joker was hidden…

“Can you get any read on where that projection is coming from?” The Dark Knight asked Cyborg.

“Not without physically being there-- even I can’t reach across the world and hack into a system,” he replied.

{…You’re a monster,} they heard Wonder Woman say, defiantly.

The Joker’s voice was crisp and clear, grating through their brains as they heard him through Diana’s perceptions. {I’m the worst kind of monster, thank you… now, here’s the thing. I’m sure you figured out a way to communicate after I crashed all your systems, so I can guess that Batman is hearing all of this-- yes, I know he survived. And really, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I actually felt sad when I blew him up yesterday but having him alive now… means I get to make him explode again and again and again. I’m sure you can see the appeal. And speaking of explosions--}

The psychic link terminated with extreme prejudice, a shriek of static filling their heads-- no, not static-- a scream-- and they couldn’t hear Wonder Woman anymore, they couldn’t hear the Joker, but there was the noise, a cacophony of violence--

{Superman-- get to Switzerland-- quickly--!} Batman thought, sending the message directly to the Man of Steel’s brain. -- He only hoped that the Man of Steel wouldn’t be too late…


<“We’re outnumbered,”>* said the young heroine known as Rusalka, member of the Russian supergroup called Soyuz.


The team had been dispatched to defend Moscow from the laughing, shuffling superhumans who had stumbled out of the various hospitals around the city, but they’d heard whispers of these uprisings taking place across the country, and perhaps even the world.

While the Central Clinical Hospital of the Presidential Administration of the Russian Federation was heavily guarded, that didn’t stop the patients inside from revolting when whatever affliction that caused their power-ups struck. The Federal Protective Service stood no chance against the super-strong, super-fast cancer patients that lumbered out of the wards.

It was almost amusing to Rusalka, but she knew better than to show it, let alone say it. If her dear friend Serafina-- Firebird-- was here, she’d almost be scared to think it, lest her friend’s psychic powers pick up the stray, somewhat disloyal thought, but Serafina was on active duty with Checkmate, and therefore as far away from Moscow as she possibly could be, considering the dire circumstances.

But the Central Clinical Hospital served the power elite of Moscow, and now those same rich-and-moneyed citizens were shambling out of the hospital in their gowns, their skin pale and their lips red, laughter pouring out of their mouths like water out a faucet. She had wanted to go into central Moscow, where the other hospitals were based, but no, Soyuz’s orders were clear-- ensure the safety of those in the CCH, by any means necessary.

Rusalka wielded hydrokinetic powers, but what good did that do her in the face of the critically ill, imbued with enhanced abilities? She was supposed to save them, not fight them, but what choice were they being given? They were giggling as they attacked, but they wore the faces of mothers, fathers, grandparents… she could stop them, but in their state, would her actions not kill them as well?

<“Stop holding back, Mashenka! Our orders were clear-- there’s no hope for these people!”> barked Vikhor, using his ability to control the winds to push back the hordes.

Rusalka turned to him but cried out when one of their nearby attacker’s eyes widened, and a maelstrom of heat vision was unleashed on the young man. “Aaaahhh!”

<“No!”> Perun, the electricity-wielding hero who had been firing off blasts of lightning further down the embattled street, saw his comrade fall and cursed loudly. He threw a bolt of electricity to clear the shambling horde of infected patients, but all it did was burn away their clothing-- they seemed to cycle through abilities; heat vision one moment, invulnerability the next. <“Fall, damn you! Fall!”>

Rusalka rushed over to Vikhor, and saw that half his body was covered in burns. She pulled moisture from the air and applied it as salve to the areas she could see, but he was screaming, his body quaking and seizing as she held him in her arms. <“F-Feodor, please, I’m doing what I can, you need to try and remain still--”>

Vikhor nodded, but then stretched his hand out when one of their attackers got too close-- he sent a shockwave toward the shambling man who had somehow managed to super-speed toward them, but it did nothing to deter the man. Rusalka turned, screamed, and drew all the moisture out of his body with the abrupt closing of her hand into a fist.

The man collapsed, a desiccated corpse, and Rusalka shook her head. <“No… I had no choice…”>

<“Wh-where are the Rocket Red Brigade?”> whispered Vikhor.

<“I can see their exhaust trails in the skies above the city, they have their own assignments,”> said Rusalka.

<“W-we need m-more,”> said Vikhor, drifting in and out of consciousness. <“W-we need h-help.”>

The sky above darkened. Exhaust trails faded as the shadow loomed. Rusalka looked up with wide eyes, not realising what this portended… something had arrived…


By the time Superman arrived in Basel, seven seconds had elapsed. In that time, Aleph Pharma’s headquarters had fallen in its entirety, and he saw the twisted and broken bodies of the Joker’s victims sprawled amongst the rubble. He scanned the debris, and noted the amount of lead amongst the infrastructure, disrupting his ability to see beyond it. Had that always been there, or added after the Joker had assumed control of the company? He didn’t know the answer, but he wouldn’t allow it to stop him searching.

“Diana!” he shouted. Then he gritted his teeth, focused his hearing, and then--

--Wonder Woman-- bruised, scratched and bleeding-- shrugged off the concrete and dust that had covered her, and stumbled out of the ruins. She said something in Greek-- ancient Greek, considering Superman didn’t understand her meaning-- and then fell into his arms.

{I’ve got her,} Superman said via the mindlink, {I’ll come to the Hall-- she needs medical attention-- I’ll be a few minutes!}


Collapsed across Hawkman’s bleeding body, Mister Miracle had been caught in a hail of gunfire, and now the National Guard-- wholly compromised by their corrupted inoculations provided by Aleph Pharma-- laughed uncomfortably amongst themselves as they neared the pair of Justice Leaguers.

“Ffffffffinish them off,” chuckled one of the soldiers. “Fill them fu fu fu hahahaha full of holes!”

Unmoving, Mister Miracle’s eyes were wide open, and Hawkman was breathing heavily, his body in agony after taking so many shots to the chest. Nth metal could only offer so much protection, after all.

And then Scott’s eyes shifted, and he blinked--

Many seemed to forget that Scott Free was a god. A new one, for sure, but a god nonetheless. Incarnate in mortal flesh, but still imbued with powers beyond mortal men. He moved faster than the eyes of the National Guard could follow, and within moments, he’d disarmed them all. He’d strapped his Mother Box to Hawkman’s arm, allowing its healing components to get to work alongside the Nth metal.

Moments later, the Hawk Knight stood, picked up his mace-- and saw that there was nobody left to beat up. Mister Miracle absent-mindedly dusted his shoulder, and then straightened his cape. “What kept you?” he asked.

“Gut shot,” said Hawkman, checking his abs where blood had scabbed around what had once been a bullet wound to the stomach. “All knitted back together now. Hopefully the bullets aren’t still inside…”

“We need to get back inside the hospital. I think I saw some of them make their way in,” said Mister Miracle.

Hawkman removed the Mother Box and handed it back to the New God. “Thanks for the save.”

Scott shrugged. “I do my best. C’mon.”

“I--”

Katar hesitated. The sight of these horribly corrupted cancer patients had shaken him up more than he cared to admit. There was a disease inside him, barely held in check by constant Nth Metal exposure. His own cancer, lurking in his cells, slowly dragging him closer to the edge of oblivion*.


Too many questions to make him feel right. His centre was completely off, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud. What if he’d joined the pilot scheme? Took the medication they handed out? Would he become like the rest? One step closer to death. His mortality snatched from him. The terms of his life taken out of his hands. Unacceptable for a man like him. For a Hawk Knight.

Fighting this felt like going to war with the personification of his own sickness.

“Katar? What’s wrong?” asked Scott, looking back at his friend.

Hawkman’s grip tightened around his mace.

He had no choice.

He never did.

“…Nothing. Let’s go.”


Batman had exited the room, heading to the roof so he could meet Superman and Wonder Woman when they arrived.

Cyborg had remained behind, coordinating the efforts of the superhero community in containing the rampant threat of super-powered, so-called ‘living’ Joker zombies that were tearing up the world.

“How could Aleph get their hooks into so many people… in so many places?” he wondered aloud.

“Serious question?” Rita asked.

Rita Farr, the Doom Patroller known as Elasti-Girl, was standing at the edge of the room, giving her husband Steve Dayton, aka Mento, some space. He’d boosted the signal of the Justice League’s ad hoc psychic link hours before, and it had nearly torn his brain apart. He was alive, conscious, but not at his most lucid. Who knew what the after-effects of his psychic boost might be to himself, let alone the world?

Cyborg sighed, then smiled. “Serious? Why not? Thanks again for bringing Steve, Rita. I know he doesn’t like putting the helmet on, but he’s rebuilt our entire communication network. We’d probably be blind and deaf and dumb without him and the others.”

“Blame Gar,” Rita said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We were having a barbecue when Superman’s transmission came in. All hands on deck. If it’s Big Blue saying that, and it’s the Joker, then you can’t not turn up.”

“Sure, I appreciate that. So, your serious answer to my serious question?”

“From what I’ve gathered, Aleph were offering relief to suffering. What would you do if you could alleviate the suffering of a loved one? Of yourself?”

“I’m kinda known for my sadomasochistic streak, Rita,” Cyborg said with a laugh.

“Then you’re the exception to the rule, you big lug. But seriously. Cancer chipping away at your husband, your wife, your children… and you’re presented with a miracle cure. A miracle drug. Why wouldn’t you take it while you can?”

“You’re not wrong. But we’ve got satellite teams operating across the globe, we’ve got villains taking advantage of the chaos. I’ve got reports from Germany that Captain Nazi popped his stupid Aryan head out of hiding and went on a rampage. Hundreds are dead, the final death toll will be in the thousands. The Joker really did graduate, didn’t he?”

“You know what scares me the most about it?” said Rita.

“What’s that?”

“He’s not made a physical appearance yet. He’s a monster, but he’s a showman, right? When doesn’t he make an appearance on the big stage? When he does he put himself out there, on the line, in front of the world?”

Cyborg grimaced. “When he’s not finished his performance?”

Rita nodded. “This isn’t over yet, Victor. I’m going to check on Steve. But keep doing what you’re doing. The more people out there, fighting the good fight, the more likely we’ll be able to stem the tide before it gets any worse.”

Cyborg nodded and watched as Rita left, and couldn’t help but think that they were vastly outnumbered. Aleph had pumped their tainted drugs into so many victims, so many innocents, and they were rioting across the globe. And the Justice League, and all her reservists and affiliates, were outnumbered 20-to-1 by super-powered, cancer-ridden madmen and women.

Stem the tide all they could, they were still outgunned massively.


“This isn’t good. Power is out across the entire island, even the emergency generators now-- and whatever-- whoa--!”

Doctor Light spun around and blasted Killer Moth-- wearing a shabbily put-together costume of bed sheets and bloodied guards’ uniforms-- down the corridor, the impact against the back wall knocking him out instantly. She held out her hand, and allowed a pool of light to form above her palm. They were alone now.

“Where are the guards?”

She looked back at Killer Moth, still slumped in a pile, wearing the stolen uniforms he’d stitched together into some semblance of his villainous costume. She saw the blood stains and hoped that it didn’t mean what she feared.

“Probably trying to contain the breakout,” said Angie, rubbing her head.

“What’s wrong?”

The Engineer shook her head. “Distortion in the air. Like chaff. Whatever Harley unleashed, it’s in the air, it’s causing all kinds of disruptions to my internal systems.”

“Emergency generators are down, so this was a concerted attack. Targeted,” said Doctor Light.

{Can… can anybody hear me?} thought the Engineer.

Omen’s voice filled her head. {Picking you up loud and clear. I’ll patch you through to Cyborg.}

{Angie-- where are you?} asked Victor. {Are you all right?}

{We’re still on Arkham Island, but there’s been an attack; some kind of nanite-based infection unleashed by Quinn. The emergency generator is dead and the inmates are loose.}

{I’ll let John know, he’s our point man in the GCPD--}

Batman’s voice broke through, {Get to the secure bunker under Cell Block D, behind the dispensary. The vault door will open if you press your hand against the panel hidden behind the mirror. Gather as many survivors as you can along the way, but you need to get to safety. If the inmates are loose, then they may be enhanced in the same way that the cancer patients are. That’s--}

{No,} interrupted Doctor Light.

There was a long pause, before Batman finally replied, {…No?}

{If the nanites are infusing human DNA with Kryptonian markers, and the hosts are exhibiting Kryptonian power traits, that means they’re charging up like a Kryptonian does under the light of a yellow sun. Right?}

{Oh!!} Angie clicked her fingers. {And that means they’re absorbing yellow sun radiation like a Kryptonian, and it suggests that they would absorb other types of solar radiation the same way!}

Kimiyo held up her hand. The pool of ambient light she’d created changed hue. Instead of an incandescent brightness that was nearly white, it changed visual frequency-- and became scarlet. {I’m going to fight my way out of here, and then I’m going to depower the victims of the Joker’s plan before this can escalate any further.}

Another voice entered the conversation. {Hold your ground. I’m on my way.}


Firestorm dropped the barrier separating the remaining Justice Leaguers and the infected patients, and the Guardian leaped into action.

“Harper, wait--!” she shouted, but it was too late-- he was on the move.

Gunshots were ringing out through the halls, and by the time the Guardian made it into the corridor-- his gold and navy uniform torn and shredded by the baying hands of the innocent, albeit frenzied, infected-- he saw the cause.

Meanwhile, Firestorm tapped into the psychic link, and hurriedly thought, {The Guardian’s daughter is infected as well, guys. I think we need help over here…}

{There’s a group of Titans active in New York, but they’re caught up on the other side of the city-- can you get to Guardian?} said Cyborg.

{I-- I don’t know,} replied Firestorm.

{Of course she can, she’s about to have some really badass back-up,} said Mister Miracle, his thoughts resonating with optimism, even in the face of all the horror unfolding around them. {Just hold on, Lorraine! We’re having to fight our way back up to you-- I knew we shouldn’t have taken the scenic route!}

Hawkman’s gruff thoughts joined the conversation. {Scott is, of course, joking. We’re trying to stem the tide down below. Look out for the soldiers, they’re exhibiting enhanced abilities too.}

Firestorm sighed with relief. {Oh, thank God, you’re okay--! Uh, right, I’ll get him, but please, hurry!}

The National Guard made their presence known, their faces plastered with mocking grins, clearing up one of the Joker’s messes while causing another. Those not infected were being mowed down by gunfire, while the cancer patients who exhibited Kryptonian abilities were either being riddled with bullets-- and not dying-- or allowing them to bounce off their invulnerable bodies, causing more damage with the ricochets.

But the corridor was thinning with bodies-- the cancer patients were smashing their way through the other wards, the other rooms, and throwing themselves out the windows-- the Guardian couldn’t see, but if he had followed them he would note that some experienced their Kryptonian ability to fly kick in, while others… didn’t.

Some literally exploded as their heat vision kicked in when they struck the ground below, blowing them to smithereens as the corrupted, cargo cult powers malfunctioned inside their already sickly and damaged bodies, while others bounced off the concrete, and then continued to stumble in any direction. The Kryptonian powers each victim held were unpredictable and chaotic, which was just the Joker’s style…

“Where-- where--?”

Praying that his daughter was still nearby, the Guardian threw his shield directly at the National Guard soldiers, the edge of it slicing through the rifles of their weapons and bouncing off one wall to the next, before lodging into the doorway that led to the stairwell, jamming that entrance closed.

“Let-- yeah-- hahahah-- Little pig! Little pig! hahaa let us in-- let us in!” came the giggling voice of a soldier stuck behind the now-jammed door.

“Or hahaha we’ll haha huff and we’ll puff!” came the voice of another.

The Guardian smashed his fist into the face of one of the soldiers, only for the bones in his hand to crunch on impact. They had superpowers too! A hand found its way around his wrist and twisted, and the soldier beneath him laughed as he nonchalantly broke the Guardian’s arm.

“D-do you think it’s hahaha supposed to bend that way?” he asked.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” barked the Guardian, trying to pull himself loose.

“I’ve got this,” said Firestorm, standing over him. She waved her hand-- the aura of her powers shining in an arc in the man’s face-- and the soldier immediately cried out and began to froth bloodily at the mouth. “Damn-- damn-- damn-- no!” she cried out.

“What did you do?” asked the Guardian, pulling himself up.

“I tried transmuting the nanites in his bloodstream into saline. I didn’t want to do it to the patients because of their cancer, but it’s like… without the nanites, they--”

Before their eyes, the soldier breathed his last, and Firestorm covered her mouth in shock.

“Oh, no. I-- I--”

The Guardian shook his head, while cradling his shattered wrist. “You didn’t do anything. It was him. The Joker. Restrain them, Lorraine; we’ll find a way to stop this--”

He turned back toward the room where his daughter had been staying these past months, and saw bloody handprints smeared across the walls leading to the doorway. Something important in him snapped, and he abruptly left Firestorm’s side and ran straight toward the room.

When he entered, Harper nearly fell to his knees. Painted across the room were the burst, brutalised bodies of his extended family, and kneeling in the middle of it all, wearing nothing but the blood of her children, and their children, and their children, was his daughter.

She looked at him, let out a single, sobbing laugh, and then twisted her head around with such force that her neck snapped audibly, and then Marjorie Lawson, the last surviving daughter of James Harper, was dead.

Like the rest.

With a smile on her back-to-front face.


Superman helped Wonder Woman stand, but when they arrived in the team’s new de facto headquarters, she pulled herself loose and headed straight for the waiting arms of Batman, who held her close. He spoke low, and quickly, “I thought…”

“No. It’ll take more than your clown dropping a building on me to keep me away from you.”

“He’s not… he’s not my clown,” Bruce replied.

Superman placed his hands on their shoulders. “I need to get moving again. I can see teams across the globe operating, even without a Justice League representative on hand. I wish it didn’t take situations like these to bring us all together.” He turned, and began to float upwards--

“Clark, wait--” Batman started.

Superman looked down at his friend, “What is it, Bruce?”

“Have… have you set a date yet?” asked the Caped Crusader.

The Man of Tomorrow’s facial expression ran the gamut for a split second, before he settled on a warm smile. “Not yet. Lois is still mad I didn’t ask her father for permission.*”


“You’re engaged?” Wonder Woman said, incredulously, as she patted him in the shoulder, “You never told me!” She then looked at Batman, “And you never said!”

“To be fair, I didn’t tell him. How did you--?”

“First and foremost, I’m a detective. Congratulations.”

“When this day is done, we’ll celebrate. And I’ll finally introduce you all... properly.”

Superman vanished into the skies, while they watched him go.

Diana broke the silence between them. “There’s something else. I didn’t want to say it over the psychic link… it wasn’t secure. You know I was in Gotham, before Laputa fell. I should have said sooner… but the mask that the Red Hood-- Harley Quinn-- wore. There were two sets of fingerprints on the interior. They didn’t make sense, but you need to know.”

“…Whose?”

“Alejandro Cuetes’ and… Julie Madison’s,” said Wonder Woman.

Julie Madison. Bruce Wayne's fiancee, who died years ago during one of the Joker's super crime sprees. The lost love of his life.

That meant one thing, and one thing alone:

Batman grimaced. “He knows.”

“You really think…?”

“The Joker knows who I am,” Bruce said.

Before the weight of that knowledge could bear down completely, Cyborg’s voice spoke into their heads. He’d finally reached Angie, and their conversation was fraught and filled with nerves.

Hearing something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the Dark Knight interrupted the mindlink, and said, {Get to the secure bunker under Cell Block D, behind the dispensary. The vault door will open if you press your hand against the panel hidden behind the mirror. Gather as many survivors as you can along the way, but you need to get to safety. If the inmates are loose, then they may be enhanced in the same way that the cancer patients are. That’s--}

{No,} said Doctor Light.

Wonder Woman managed a smile. “I’ve always liked her.”

Batman didn’t disagree, but that wasn’t his point. “This is important-- those people in the asylum-- they’re barely people. They’re monsters.”

“Does that mean we should dismiss our allies? She’s been doing this for a while, as have we all. She’s Justice League, Bruce. That means you have to allow someone else to shoulder the load at some point.”

“You’re… hhh. You’re not wrong.” Batman telepathically replied, {…No?}

“I’m rarely wrong,” said Wonder Woman.

Doctor Light made her point quickly. {If the nanites are infusing human DNA with Kryptonian markers, and the hosts are exhibiting Kryptonian power traits, that means they’re charging up like a Kryptonian does under the light of a yellow sun. Right?}

The Engineer picked up the thread and followed it through. {Oh!! That means they’re absorbing yellow sun radiation like a Kryptonian, and it suggests that they would absorb other types of solar radiation the same way!}

Doctor Light said, {I’m going to fight my way out of here, and then I’m going to depower the victims of the Joker’s plan before this can escalate any further.}

“She wields light like a weapon. That’s genius,” said Wonder Woman.

“We still need to get her out of Arkham to take advantage of that,” said Batman.

“Leave that with me,” said Wonder Woman. She put a finger to her temple, and said, {Hold your ground. I’m on my way.}

“You? You just had a building dropped on you, Diana. Surely--”

“I’m fine. And with Kal flitting between danger zones, I’m our fastest flyer. I’ll be in touch. Just keep the world together while I’m gone.” She kissed him on the cheek, and then whispered, “This isn’t the end. I won’t let it be. We have too much to live for.”


“What a day, what a day,” purred Mari McCabe, channelling the abilities of a cheetah as she pounced off one of the numerous attackers, and then switched to gorilla as she hurled her target into another.

She hadn’t come to Tinasha intending to operate as the superheroine Vixen, rather, she was there in her capacity as the head of her charity foundation. The city itself was a mix of the two extremes most likely to be found on the continent; while the city itself was modern, all bright lights and teeming nightlife, a handful of miles away you would find slum villages filled with the poor and underprivileged, where crime was rampant.

Above her head, her tour guide and host soared on artificial wings; while she was empowered by the ancestral power of her Tantu Totem, David Zavimbe wore a power suit of his own design, and protected the innocent as Batwing, an authorised agent of Batman, Incorporated.

She looked up and smiled. “I thought you were supposed to show me the sights, Batwing.”

“Sorry, Vixen. When I promised you a relaxing time, I guess I was just tempting fate.” He barrel-rolled downward and fired off a barrage of non-lethal armaments, clouds of tranquiliser gas peppering the ground below. “Just my luck.”

They weren’t the only heroes operating right now-- when the hospitals spat out the almost-zombified patients, all wide smiles and pallid, albino-esque skin, the psychic heroine known as Cradle activated the spirit-link, a mystical psychic connection that joined all the heroes on the continent together, so they were aware of each other’s actions.

Tinasha was just one place where all hell was breaking loose. Mari felt the Kingdom operating in Johannesburg and Bloemfontein, the group splitting their forces as best they could. Doctor Mist had gathered the Leymen, his cabal of mystical defenders, in Zamunda, where the country’s famous hospital sprawl had felt the effect of the chaotic forces severely.

She could feel Impala and Kid Impala fighting the good fight; Olorun, known to some as He-Who-is-the-Sky, manifested and did what he could, considering the circumstances. Mohammed Ibn Bornu rode his metal steed into the fray and tried to protect innocents from the shambling hordes who laughed in the face of his energy blasts.

Batwing and Vixen did what they could. But before they could put any kind of plan into action other than crowd control, the skies above their heads filled with something neither immediately understood. Before she could question it, Batwing had already whispered, “Good god.”


Minutes before, Firestorm had seen the Guardian enter his daughter’s room, but not exit.

In the interim, she’d overheard Doctor Light’s thinking on the issue of the nanite-infected innocents, and tried something new-- Reilly focused on transmuting light, and found that, yes, she could generate red sun radiation, just like she could every other kind--!

She had bathed those nearby in the crimson light and their superpowers died out nearly immediately, as their internal batteries were drained of yellow sun radiation, and they were rendered harmless within moments.

The door the Guardian had jammed shut with his shield burst open, and Hawkman and Mister Miracle emerged, battered and bruised, but victorious.

“And… the Nth metal in my mace… knocks the stronger ones out,” Hawkman said, trying to catch his breath. He looked pale himself, sweating a bit more than usual. Firestorm wanted to fret, to ask if he was okay, but it’s not like he would have told the truth. Too proud. Too stubborn. But he looked so sick…

“And I’m a god, so, y’know,” added Mister Miracle.

“Where’s… where’s the Guardian?” Hawkman asked.

Firestorm gestured behind her, and they headed to where they’d last seen Harper.

“Guardian?” Hawkman called out.

“James?” Firestorm said, tentatively.

There came no response, so they walked into the horror show inside the private room with no idea of what to expect. Hawkman’s eyes widened at the blood-slicked ceilings and walls, and Mister Miracle took a step backwards. The Guardian was on his knees, cradling the distorted corpse of his daughter, barely holding himself together as juddering sobs emerged from his mouth.

“Oh, no,” whispered Firestorm.

“Th-they’re all dead,” said Harper.

“James…” said Hawkman.

The Guardian shook his head, and shouted, “They’re all dead and it’s my fault!”

“No-- it was the Joker-- he did this--” said Firestorm.

“I let him in! I opened the damn door and invited him in! This is all my fault! All of it! If I hadn’t-- if I had just-- she-- she--” He looked down at the still-grinning face of his deceased daughter and pulled her close. “If only I’d listened to her… if only I didn’t think I knew best…”


Wonder Woman travelled as fast as her god-given gifts would allow, pushing harder than she usually did. She broke the sound barrier as she headed inland from the Hall of Justice in Metropolis, and soon enough, she landed in Gotham City, just on the perimeter of Arkham Island.

An assortment of freaks and madmen were waiting to greet her.

Preening in a costume knitted together from leaves and greenery, Poison Ivy smiled in acknowledgement of Diana’s arrival. Her pale skin glistened in the moonlight, and the air around her shimmered, as if she was exuding heat. She was projecting her mind-clutching pheromones, though no one around her seemed at all bothered by that fact. “I love your outfit,” she said.

“Thank you, yours is very pretty too,” replied Diana.

Roiling and collapsing in on himself, taking the form of an immense creature before reducing back down to sludge, was Clayface, who looked like he was in pain during his tumultuous transformation, but when he managed to hold his humanoid form for more than a moment, his expression was one of anger.

“Not right… not right…” Scarecrow was stuffing fistfuls of dead grass into his cuffs, and had managed to acquire one of his old masks, though it fit poorly around his even lankier frame than usual. On his belt were cleaning fluids and spray bottles, inevitably holding more than just cleaning solutions. “Not perfect… but it’ll do…”

He looked up at Diana, and she could see his mask move above where his mouth would be. Was he licking his lips?

“He said you’d be here, and for some reason, that meant we couldn’t leave without saying hello,” growled Two-Face, flipping his coin and checking the result that landed on the back of his palm. “Our jaw still aches from when you took us in the last time, princess*.”


“You’re doing what the Joker tells you to, now?” Wonder Woman replied, glancing around the edge of the group.

She spotted the yellow eyes of Killer Croc blinking vertically slowly in the dark. He was trying to flank her, but her warrior training meant she kept him in mind as she adjusted her stance, ready to spring in any direction depending on who threw the first--

“HE’S IN OUR HEAAAAADS,” roared Clayface, pouring himself like a liquid in a column toward Diana, but she unclipped her lasso and spun it like a fan in front of her at speeds the others couldn’t track, and he was dispersed in every direction.

“He’s in our heads, is the problem,” said Two-Face.

Wonder Woman smiled, wrapping her lasso around her fists. “I’m truly sorry to hear that. If at all possible, I’d like to end this without further bloodshed. Can we do that?”

Scarecrow shook his head, pulled one of the squirt bottles from his side and held it like a gun in Wonder Woman’s direction. “He’s in our heads. He opened all the doors in Arkham Asylum, and now we’re hearing his voice scratching in the backs of our brains. And all he wants from us is one thing.”

Diana threw the length of the lasso forward and it whipped around Jonathan Crane’s neck, wrapping itself around his throat tightly. His fingers found purchase around the Golden Perfect, but he couldn’t immediately pull it free.

“I don’t care about what he wants. All I care about it getting to my friends. Do you know where they are?”

“He-- wants-- us-- to make-- you-- suffer!” growled Scarecow, twin blasts of heat vision shooting out through his mask from the inside and immediately setting it alight. Diana held fast onto the lasso, but displaced the lasers with an arc of her wrist, and a deep gouge of dirt was suddenly scoured into the ground.

“He gives you-- these powers-- like he has countless others across the globe-- and all he wants you to do with them is hurt me?”

Crane pulled off the ashen remnants of his mask and laughed, his eyes still bubbling with reservoirs of power. “I can hear the screams of innocents in downtown Gotham from here. I know what I can do with this strength. I know I--”

Scarecrow was bathed in red light, and cried out in shock. Diana spotted who delivered the attack, and smiled.

Standing beside the Engineer, Doctor Light smiled, and held up her hand as strobing red sun energy emanated from her palm. “Are we here to rescue you?”

“Vice versa, but looks like it’s an effort wasted,” said Wonder Woman. “But-- wait, what’s that?”

A vast shadow began to overtake the ground as all those gathered looked to the skies.

“Holy Hera,” whispered Diana.

Energy blasts flew from above, capturing the Arkham escapees in cages of crackling energy. Across the waters, both in and out, the same nets of light were cast, and the jump-suited madmen who made it as far as they did were yanked into the air, knocked out by the paralysing energy nets that caught them.

“Is that who I think it is?” Doctor Light asked.

The Engineer squinted, and then glanced over to Wonder Woman. “I think it is.”

Descending from the belly of the Atlantean tidal destroyer on a column of water was Mera Curry, Queen of Atlantis and wife of Aquaman. Across Gotham’s vast bay, numerous vessels had surfaced without warning, and were currently in the process of mopping up the Arkham escapees.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to coordinate the entire fleet. Atlantis hasn’t been on war footing for years, so we weren’t as prepared as I would have wanted us to be,” Mera said, touching down nearby.

“Is Arthur--?” started Wonder Woman.

Last she’d heard, Superman had taken Aquaman and Mera to Poseidonis after Arthur had been caught in the explosion that had sent Laputa to the bottom of the ocean. That had been hours ago-- and now the forces of Atlantis’ navy was mobilised in their favour? Maybe the tide was about to turn…?

Mera shook her head. “Now’s not the time. And I’m not acting solo. The surface world doesn’t stand alone today.”


Cyborg leaned back, balled up fists resting on his hips. “Nice… we’re slowly getting communications back up across the globe, and it’s taking the pressure off the psychics. Good thing too, I think we just about pushed them to breaking point with this mindlink business. I’m not sure how J’onn used to do it…”

Batman was working on the computers, pulling up all the information they had on Aleph Pharmaceuticals, and the nanomachines they’d disabled from the first Engineer’s attack. He was trying to find a connection, something that would help with the case at hand. He looked up at Cyborg, and said, “We need to find the Joker. With-- what’s wrong?”

Vic’s facial expression had changed completely. Unreadable in its own way. “Whoa, I’m getting reports from across the globe… Russia, Africa, Germany…”

In the catacombs of the Hall of Justice, a Boom Tube opened, and the New York-based Leaguers emerged, battered and bloodied. Hawkman and Mister Miracle had seen better days, but as they supported the deeply shaken Guardian toward the medical bay, they knew they’d gotten off lightly.

Firestorm followed after them, deep in thought. They’d left Belmont / Presbyterian Hospital in the care of the newly arrived S.T.A.R. Labs security team summoned by Hawkman, and the Manhattan-based Titans were en route too. The location was secure, but they’d been taken a beating to reach that point.

“…I don’t know if he’s going to get over this,” Firestorm said.

Deep from in the mind-space they shared, Martin Stein replied, {The loss of a child… of his entire family… my god… I can’t… we can’t even begin to comprehend… that poor, poor man…}

“I… I don’t know what to do…” whispered Lorraine.

Hawkman turned back to her. “Head to the meeting room. We’ll follow shortly.”

“N-no, let’s all go now,” said the Guardian.

“James, you’ve been through something terrible. You need to have a doctor look at you,” said Mister Miracle.

Harper shook his head vehemently, and said, “Your wife died not even a month ago*. Y-you’re here. You’re still standing. Fighting. Don’t tell me what I need. I know what I need. What we all need. To take down the monster that engineered this whole horror show.”


“Barda… Barda isn’t dead,” replied Scott.

The Guardian shrugged the pair off him, and he stood uncertainly on his own two feet. “So you say, but until she’s back, she’s as good as, y’hear? C’mon. Get off me. Get off. We have a job to do.”

The others watched as he stormed toward the meeting room. Firestorm saw Miracle ball up his hand into a fist, but Hawkman grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping whatever was about to transpire from occurring.

“Not now. Maybe not ever,” Katar said, slowly.

“I could… snap him in half… they always forget…” said Scott, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“He doesn’t mean it,” said Lorraine.

Scott shook his head. “Didn’t stop him from saying it. She is alive. She’s out there, somewhere. I just have to find her. But the Source…”

“We’ll find her,” said Hawkman.

“Yeah. I know. I know we will,” said Mister Miracle.

Hawkman put his arm around the New God’s shoulders. “We will.”

Scott nodded, managed a smile. “Yeah.”

“We should, uh, probably go after Harper. Before he, I dunno, does something stupid,” said Lorraine.

“Before he starts a fight with Batman,” said Miracle.

“He’s been through a lot,” she replied.

“Doesn’t mean he won’t throw a punch,” said Miracle. “And I don’t care what kind of fight technology he’s got in that brain of his, he won’t win a fight with Batman.”

“I don’t know about that…” said Hawkman.

The three caught up with Guardian just as he entered the room.

Cyborg was mid-sentence when they entered, “…Reports from across the globe… Russia, Africa, Germany…”

“What kind of reports?” asked Hawkman.

“The Atlantean navy, supported by… flying women…” said Cyborg, giving his colleague a nod as the group entered.

{We could use a pick-up from Arkham,} Wonder Woman said, over their telepathic link.

“I’m on it,” said Mister Miracle. He triggered a Boom Tube and vanished, before reappearing through another one, along with the other members of the group, including Mera.

She said, “They’re not just any flying women. The armies of Atlantis and New Khera have emerged from the seas and skies to protect the world. Zealot is leading the charge. Non-lethal munitions only. We’ll stamp out this madness-fuelled uprising. Doctor Light is currently on our flagship, travelling from hotspot to hotspot, using her red sun projections to disable their attacks.”

“You’ve mobilised the armies of two nations,” said Batman.

Wonder Woman gave him a look, but said nothing. “I wish I had time to summon the Themysciran military… has the word been spread about our red sun solution?”

Cyborg nodded. “Light-benders are suddenly a hot commodity. I’ve managed to get one to each of the main trouble points, but they’re spread thin. I wish we had a Green Lantern, but Halo and the Birds of Prey have had success bringing down their targets, and I got word from Metamorpho that Rising Sun has come out of retirement in Japan. They’re doing the best work they can… there are others, too. Mera… where’s Arthur? Is he okay?”

Mera exhaled. “Still unconscious. We prevented brain damage, but the doctors don’t know when he’ll wake up.”

“If there’s anything we can do--” started Firestorm, but she was interrupted, when--

“--Holy crap… I figured it out! I know where he is!” exclaimed Cyborg.

“What?” said Hawkman.

“The Joker! I’ve figured it out!” Cyborg continued.

“Where?” growled Batman.

Superman entered the room, “What’s happened? I heard Batman’s heart spike--”

The Dark Knight shook his head, cutting off the Man of Steel. “Where. Is. He?”

Cyborg swallowed hard. “When Laputa fell, I was onboard, and I heard him mocking you. His whole damn monologue, I heard it. But there was a weird auditory tic, something my processors picked up but couldn’t work out. I didn’t put it together until now. How could he pants us like he has? How could he get into all our systems? It’s pretty obvious if you stop to think about it.”

“…No,” whispered Superman. What did he know? What had he realised that Cyborg had also figured out?

Arms down at his sides, you could hear Batman’s knuckles crack as his fists clenched. “He was on Laputa.”

“But Laputa sank,” said Firestorm.

“And exploded,” added Mera.

“The entire structure was modular. Walls and floors changing depending on what we need the space for. Sure, we didn’t use it much, but yesterday it happened twice.”

“Before we departed for Poseidonis, Arthur and I facilitated the removal of Majestros’ quarters for Zannah,” said Mera. “And the other instance?”

“Before the cascade failure. I heard it again. But I checked the logs, and there’s no record. But I heard it. I didn’t put it together. Laputa does weird crap all the time. Remember when we installed the aviary? When the moon pool was first built? It was like Wonderland, and we were all Alice. But being here, giving instructions to all the field teams… I had time to think. Ran my brain in parallel, and I figured it out.”

“He’s still on there, isn’t he?” said Wonder Woman.

“Our site-to-site Door technology leaves a signature. A fingerprint. We’re locked out of using the system, but I can still use satellites to scan for it. There haven’t been any Doors opened in or out of Laputa since Batman’s arrival yesterday.”

“But Laputa is at the bottom of the ocean,” said Mister Miracle.

“Where we’d never look,” said Batman, the realisation almost acting as a punch to the gut.

Hawkman slammed his palm on the table. “Well, we know now. I say Superman just flies in and punches the smile off his damn face. Or I can go down there and--”

“Don’t,” interrupted Batman. “Don’t even say it.”

From the back of the room, a quiet voice spoke up. “He killed my daughter. My whole family. He killed them. I’ll do it.”

The Guardian was sitting against the wall, in the shadows, where no one had noticed, or at least not chosen to mention. He was in the ruins of his costume, his helmet discarded and his shield nowhere to be seen. In truth, he was James Harper, and his reddened eyes belied his steely determination and grim words. He’d lost everything.

Wonder Woman shook her head and went over to him, “I am so sorry, James. But that isn’t our way. Perhaps you should let the doctors--?”

“If not now, when? He’s! Killed! Hundreds! Thousands! He weaponised the ill! He made terminal cancer patients dance to his tune, gave them a glimpse of hope, and then snatched it away! All because he thinks it’s funny! All because you didn’t finish the job the first time he showed his god damn face!”

An accusatory finger was levelled at Batman.

“…And then what?” The Dark Knight asked.

Harper’s face was red, but everyone’s eyes were on the Caped Crusader. “And then my daughter wouldn’t be dead.”

“No. After I kill the Joker, then what? I just stop?” asked Batman.

Harper shook his head, “He killed your fiancée, Bruce! She’d still be here if you’d just snapped his neck the first chance you got.”

“And then what?” He repeated, tearing off his mask and crossing the room so he was face to face with James.

Wonder Woman almost stepped between them, but she let the moment play out, because she could see Bruce wasn’t done.

“I kill him. I break his neck. Shoot him in the head or the heart. Choke the life out of him with my own hands-- you ask why I haven’t killed him, like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind a thousand times, a million times, for every innocent life he takes? I kill the Joker, and then what? Someone fills the gap. Someone escalates their own madness. Who? Crane? Dent? Tetch? All of a sudden, the second most murderous criminal in Gotham becomes the first! Do I kill him too? To stem the tide? And then what? I start going out in the night with a gun, and I don’t stop. Croc. Ra’s. Zsasz. Even the minor league villains, do I have a moral obligation to kill them too?”

“Bruce…” started Diana.

“No! Harper-- And. Then. What?-- Gotham City is a monster factory! I do all I can in and out of costume to save its damned soul, to save those who can’t save themselves, to stop children losing their parents like I lost mine, and I’m up against the mouth of hell itself, spitting out monster after monster, freak after freak, lunatic after lunatic-- it doesn’t stop. Even now, standing here, arguing this same point I argue with myself about every damn night, she’s growing something new and nasty. I can feel it. I know it. Beyond hope. All of them. Beyond all hope and none of them will ever stop killing. So you’re saying I should join their ranks, right? Kill and kill and kill until there’s nobody left alive. Because that’s what you’re saying! Kill the Joker. Kill Two-Face when he steps up. Kill Scarecrow when he fills the gap. And kill and kill and kill until I execute the jaywalker, until I’ve killed every last criminal and the only one left to take care of is me.”

“Stop,” said Harper.

“I can’t! All I have are my principles! My rules! I do not kill! I do not stoop to that level! And I live with the burden of my actions every day! Every night! If I kill him then--”

“--He wins,” said Superman, solemnly.

Everyone’s attention snapped to the Man of Steel. The Kryptonian shook his head, and stepped forward, unofficially taking the floor.

The Man of Tomorrow continued, giving his best friend a chance to breathe. “I’ve faced monsters. Demons. Actual demons from hell. Some of us here have as well. But none have made me feel the way the Joker does. He makes me sick to my stomach, because at the end of the day, he’s human, and he acts the way he acts. He’s chaos personified, but he’s a human being. And he thinks humanity is one bad day away from being just like him.”

Diana placed a hand on Bruce’s chest as he stood in silence, listening to Clark. She could feel his heart racing. She’d never seen him like this before. He’d never said so much with such heat to the others, but the words were out there now, hanging between the members of the Justice League like a fog.

“I’ve read every study about the man. Bruce and I have spoken at length about what drives a monster like him. One bad day. He thinks there's no difference between him and everyone else. That all there is between them and him is that. Just one bad day.”

Bruce leaned forward ever so slightly, like he was light-headed. Diana braced him, and watched as he spoke, “…He told me once. The Joker, I mean. That he saw it in me. That I… that I once had what he called ‘a bad day’. He could see it in me. And I think it drives him all the madder. The only thing keeping the horror in check, the madness that we keep tamped down in our hearts, is our misplaced sense of justice. That’s what keeps us in line. And since I’ve been through something he sees as similar… and I’m not confined by the law… that I’m the perfect test case for him to prove that point. One bad day…”

“None of this brings my daughter back,” said Harper, simply.

“If I kill him, I prove him right. If I kill him, I’m not allowed to stop. I have a moral obligation to never stop. That’s why I don’t kill. I will not do to others what was done to me.”

The Guardian threw off the conversation with a shrug of his shoulders then left the room.

Hawkman followed, but turned before leaving the room, “I’ll speak to him.”

“That… is the most I’ve ever heard Batman say in one go ever,” Cyborg whispered to the Engineer.


All alone at the bottom of the ocean, The Joker tried the costume on. It fit horribly, and the scrunched up balls of tissue paper he’d stuffed into the bodice both gave him the appearance of having lumpy breasts but also threatened to spring out if he exerted in the wrong direction.

He giggled, and looked at himself in the mirror. “Oh, perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

The Joker marvelled at his reflection, the Wonder Woman costume he’d put together showing off all his assets masterfully, if you asked him. He checked his watch, realised it was just a scrawled sharpie drawing on his wrist, and then broke into hysterics.

“Any minute now. And then… things get really bad,” he said, laughing uproariously.