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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:08:08 GMT -5
Deus Ex Machina Chapter One: Do I Dare Disturb the Universe?
Written by: Chaltab Cover by: Jamie Rimmer Edited by: Jay McIntyre
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:09:36 GMT -5
Earth-321 The FutureThe smell of blood and damp asphalt filled Clark's nostrils as he dug himself out of the rubble. He wiped blood from his forehead and eyes with his hands, and then wiped the blood from his hands onto the blue legs of his costume.
A powerful wind lapped at his back and his cape blew away, rolling in the current like a tumbleweed.
He climbed up out of the crater, only to have a massive foot slam into his head, kicking him back down into the massive dent in the street. Pain shot through his body, but he barely noticed it over all the other pain. He looked up to see his foe towering over him, the Omega symbol burning in his chest.
“You have lost, Kal-El,” the enemy whispered with grim satisfaction. “There will be no deus ex machina to save you this time.”
For once, Kal-El could not find the words to argue. For once, Superman's only response no response at all.
The victory of evil over good was irrefutable. Superman's will would never break, never bend, but the Man of Steel's body was too damaged to go on.
Superman had lost.
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:10:29 GMT -5
Earth-321 Two Months Earlier
The decrepit mansion loomed on the hill above him as he strode up the dirt path. His gait was slow, each step taken with care and profundity worthy of a king—or perhaps of a man doomed to be executed. Fitting, considering that the man had an appointment with Death.
The steps up to the porch of the mansion creaked, threatening to crack under the man's weight. The doorman nodded in reverence towards his god as he passed. Boss Dark Side was a mountainous man, skin the color of ash and physique like a living block of granite. He descended into the dusty basement with the same air of solemnity that he had as he approached the house. To the right of the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, his son stood before him.
The driver's license in his pocket would have identified the son as Khale Bach, but Boss Dark Side knew that deep down, his son's true name was Kalibak. Though the oaf was rash and imprudent, he was a fierce warrior.
To the left of the door, stood the ever-conniving Desaad, a master of torture.
“It's time,” Dark Side said. Desaad and Kalibak turned, following their master through the threshold and into a room where a golden disk as wide as the room lay on the floor, ancient and arcane symbols engraved into it. A dozen others stood around the circle, holding reagents in their hands—the bones of a great hero, the heart of an innocent, the soul of a wicked man, among others. Powerful symbols of the kind of magic that filled the world of mortals.
Dark Side brought the final ingredient—a vastly different sort of magic, a power far beyond anything this world could conceive of: Anti-Life. A final gift from a mortal who worshiped Evil as much as Dark Side did, though the mortal known as Lex Luthor was too full of himself to ever admit it to worshiping anything.
The Anti-Life flowed through the chalices, reaching deep into the fundamental stuff of the universe and calling out to one of its eldest caretakers. Many had tried this ritual before; all of them had failed. Light and darkness flashed in the room and rift opened; a soft sweet song that lured their victim into their trap.
The light and shadow faded, and in the middle of the circle which had before been devoid of life there now sat a small figure. She looked like a young woman, beautiful, with wild hair and chalk-white skin. Her raiment was all black, save for a small silver necklace, an ankh dangling from the chain. She lay flat on the gold plate, unconscious.
The power of Anti-Life flowed forth from the imposing form of Boss Dark Side and coalesced around the woman, forming a transparent red-tinged shield around her. Dark Side reached through the shield, pulling the ankh from the woman's necklace. As soon as the chain separated from the artifact, the chain and the dark clothing dissolved from the woman's body, leaving her naked and helpless.
Boss Dark Side dared not strike her dead, easy as it would now be. In doing so he might draw the anger of her Master, a force that even one such as he was afraid to challenge.
The ankh, being no mere trinket but a manifestation of an incredible power, drained the figure as it left her. Feeling the power leaving her, Death awoke.
“I have very long desired to lay my eyes on you,” Boss Dark Side said. Beside him he heard a sharp inhale from Desaad. No doubt, his desire to torture her was overwhelming, but Dark Side would not grant him that pleasure at this moment.
The pale woman sat up, staring grimly at her captors. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I don't believe that I know you.”
“You know of me.” said the ashen god of Evil. “Three years ago, gods fought a war on Earth. Good won when Evil betrayed Evil.”
The woman's eyes seemed to lighten, a suddenly smile of realization flickering across her face before the grim expression returned. “Then yes, I know you,” she said. “That day, I took many innocents to judgment because of your bloodlust, and millions more before then. All thanks to you.”
“Speak my name.”
Death blinked. “Darkseid. Lord of Apokolips.”
“Soon,” he said, “I shall be lord of far more. After I was destroyed by Luthor, there was a massacre in heaven. Good won, but it was a Pyrrhic victory. The hordes of New Genesis descended on Apokolips and unleashed a Holocaust worthy of my name. The Evil gods were utterly destroyed, and many of my human subjects along with them.”
“Your human slaves,” Death corrected.
“Yes.” Dark Side leaned back and smiled. “But in his overconfident zeal for vengeance, Lex Luthor gave me my heart's desire. The Anti-Life equation. I took it and Luthor himself to my grave, and my soul fell backward through time, reincarnating in this frail flesh you see before you. Over the years, I gathered together my worshipers who survived the destruction of Apokolips in the same way I lived through Luthor's treachery.”
“Why did you summon me?” Death leaned back slightly, her arms moving pointedly so that Desaad's wicked eyes would have a full view of her modest breasts. She was taunting him, knowing that Darkseid would not let his minion touch one of the Endless for the same reason that Darkseid would not destroy her.
For the first time in many years, Dark Side found himself ever-so-slightly unnerved.
“To replace you,” Dark Side said at length. “You are Death to all mortals of the universe, but the souls of our dead are collected by another.”
From the shadows, a tall man in black armor and a tattered cape emerged, and Dark Side handed the silver ankh in his hand to him.
“It was not given to me to collect the souls of the gods,” Death said. “Nor was it given to your Black Racer to collect the souls of mortals.”
“I'm changing the rules,” Dark Side said. “And thus the final days of man shall begin, not with an attack that devastates millions, but with a simple change in the personnel that run this wretched universe.”
The dozen reincarnated New Gods standing around the circle cast sinister grins at the imprisoned Reaper and spoke four words that echoed a devotion—a devotion that frightened Death herself.
“In Darkseid's name, AMEN!”
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:11:37 GMT -5
Her nightmare was the same every time. A wasteland, stretching out as far as the eye could see, darkened. Skeletal remains, the charred bones of the eighth devil, boiled in a pool of magma. She felt herself breath a sigh of relief, but the relief was always false. The bones began to burn brighter, and a dark hand reached out.
Trigon the Terrible surged forth from his ashes. The nightmare never ceased. And every time his fist would reach out and close around her, crushing, suffocating, claiming.
She was his. Forever.
Raven awoke in a cold sweat as she had so many times before. Wiping the moisture from her forehead and neck, Raven reached for the blanket of her bed, only to find it no longer extant, and nether were any of the sheets.
Her senses extended out into the darkness around her, and suddenly the world came into sharp focus. She wasn't in Titans Tower anymore. Wasn't even in Jump City. Her bed sat in the middle of a street, the distinctive Gothic architecture and unmistakable skyline of Gotham City spreading out around her in all directions, lit by an impossibly large moon. Reflexively, Raven spread out her empathic senses to gain her bearings—and was alarmed to find nobody, no emotional beacons that signaled the presence of people.
She pulled herself off her sheetless bed, standing barefoot on the cold damp street, a cool night time breeze whistling between her legs and making her wish she had her cloak. Her empathic senses became sharper, and her innate ability to distinguish magic as a particular force drew her in a certain direction. Raven walked that way, winding in and out of empty streets until she found herself standing in Gotham Plaza, perhaps as it appeared fifty years ago before the massive television screens and barrage of advertisements had taken it over.
Others gathered around, men and women of all shapes and sizes—some human, some not. Some Raven recognized as powerful magicians and psychics, such as the helmeted form of Dr. Fate, the Justice League's mystical expert. Others were entirely foreign—a young Latina woman stood half a block away, staring into a deck of tarot cards but not comprehending their meaning, while nearby, a massive beast that looked like the Creature from the Black Lagoon stared at the sky expectantly.
None of them seemed to know precisely what was going on.
“Beautiful evening, isn't it?” a familiar voice called. Raven glanced over her shoulder to see the tall and broad-shouldered warlock, Jason Blood. He stroked his chin and strode toward Raven. It struck Raven as odd that Blood was dressed in his typical business attire rather than the state of sleep-induced half dress that she found herself in. Though Raven was far from the only one there in some state of undress.
“What's happening?” Raven asked Jason, taking a step closer to the only one nearby she knew personally.
“It would seem that the Dream Lord Morpheus is sending all of us some sort of massive psychic premonition,” Jason said. “I fear that things will soon proceed... well, straight to hell to be frank.”
Raven grimaced. That wasn't the first time she had heard that. Several times in the past months, other members of the Teen Titans had commented that they felt as though the world was careening out of control, as if headed towards a Crisis of some sort. Raven had no such premonitions—only the nightmares of her father's resurrection.
But now...
“Look!” someone far away shouted. “Up in the sky!”
Raven turned her head upward. It was not a bird, nor a plane. Nor was it Superman, though he would have been a welcome sight. High above them, two massive silhouettes hovered, suspended by nothing. One seemed to be nothing more than a massive boulder, pointed on both top and bottom. Seven smaller rocks orbited around the tiny planetoid. The other silhouette had a palace built upon it, towers and spires visible even from a distance.
Shadows erupted from these towers, figures massive in size but humanoid in shape, and tore into the cruder rock. Energy erupted from the inside of the stone.
“That's the Rock of Eternity!” someone shouted.
Raven rushed forward, her heroic instincts taking over. “Azarath, Metrion—“ she began her mantra, the magic energy coursing from her demonic blood into her hands. Then, a forceful grip fell on her shoulder, pulling her back.
“It's not real, Raven,” Jason Blood said. “It's nothing more than a premonition.”
“How do we stop it?” She whispered.
The silhouette of the massive rock exploded, the powers attacking it having overwhelmed its defenses. Pieces shattered, scattering all across the ethereal Gotham City, tearing through buildings and pocking the ground with impact craters.
Jason Blood grimaced. “If the Dream Lord has given us a premonition of this magnitude, it can only mean one thing, Raven.”
Raven glanced up at him, leaving the question unspoken.
“It means the crisis in inevitable. The proper question to ask is—will we survive it?”
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:12:23 GMT -5
Far away from Earth, the stars stretched endlessly in every direction, galaxy after galaxy, star after star, planet after planet. Sinestro sat alone in his tiny prison cell high above the planet Oa at the center of the universe, staring out at the stars. Green beams streaked by his tiny window, the Lanterns, swooping to and fro in their arrogant might. Sinestro looked down at his bare magenta hands and longed for his ring, the yellow power ring driven by the stuff that fear was made of.
The Oans were fools. Fear, not courage, was the correct path to order. Instilling fear was the only way to maintain stability. The Green Lantern Corps would never succeed in guarding the galaxy because they failed to acknowledge the core problem. They were treating the symptom, not the disease.
A small light outside the omni-steel door of his prison cell caught Sinestro's attention. After three years in this dingy prison, little did. But he'd become accustomed to the routine, and lights in the middle of the night were not a part of it. He peaked his head out, expecting to see a Lantern, perhaps the insolent brat Kyle Rainer or the foolish oaf Guy Gardner. Perhaps the large stupid one, Killowog, or the diminutive rat, Ch'p...
Instead, he saw a pair of small red dots, hovering in the bleak darkness of the prison. The dots blinked. Eyes. Sinestro took a step back. None of the Lanterns who guarded his cell had glowing red eyes.
The door to his prison exploded inward, metal shards nearly impaling the Korugan. Sinestro turned, instinctively attempting to summon the yellow energy of his ring, and then silently cursing when he did not find the familiar well of yellow power. He lowered his arm and let it hang at his side.
“If you wish to kill me, do it quick,” Sinestro said. “I've had enough waiting to kill a man three times over in this infernal prison.”
The glowing red eyes narrowed in bemusement, and figure, a massive imposing bipedal creature stepped into the room, smiling. His skin was the color of slate, and blue-tinged dark hair fell around his face. He was clad, oddly, in what seemed to be a tuxedo—a garment used on Earth, of all places, typically during weddings and funerals.
“Greetings, Sinestro of Korugar,” the being said. “My name is Grayven, and I have come to free you.”
Sinestro arched an eyebrow. Perhaps it was some sort of trick. “Your mode of dress is not instilling me with confidence,” said Sinestro.
“You saw what I did to the door with a mere punch,” Grayven said. “I shall do the same to any of the Green Lanterns who cross our path. And I offer you an opportunity to take your revenge on all of them.”
Sinestro glanced back at the tiny window of his dark cell. Slowly, he nodded, and turned to follow Grayven.
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:13:19 GMT -5
Billy Batson ran forward, his twin sister Mary at his side, away from the confines of C.C. Binder Middle School towards the tiny ice cream shop in their home town. Without the speed of Mercury, Mary proved the faster runner, and beat him to the door of the shop by a good half second. The two teens slipped inside and quickly ordered a Chocolate Egg Cream apiece from the store's owner, Sam Beck. Soon, both of them were gobbling down the chilled delight and chatting eagerly about seventh grade English and their pre-Algebra homework.
Soon, the conversation turned to more serious—and more secretive—matters.
“I spoke with the Wizard this morning,” Billy said quietly, leaving much unspoken.
Mary glanced up from her ice cream, her eyes flashing concern. “And?”
“He wanted us to meet him at the Rock of Eternity. Freddy as well. I don't know why, but I hope it's not serious.”
“Sounds like it is.” Mary took a bite. “The Wizard isn't very easy to rattle...”
Then two things happened at once. The door to the restroom in the back of the shop shut as Sam vanished inside to take care of business, trusting the two children not to steal anything because that was the kind of kids Billy and Mary Batson were. And lightning from the sky slammed into Billy and Mary through the window, shattering the glass coursing through the young teens' bodies.
When it was gone, Mary and Billy vanished with it.
The next thing they new, the siblings found themselves standing a stony cavern that was all too familiar. They ran forward, past the statues of the imprisoned Seven Deadly Enemies of Man and to the massive stone hall where the Wizard, Shazam, sat upon his throne. Billy's fifteen-year-old friend, Freddy Freeman, was already there, sitting on the floor in front of the bearded Shazam. Freddy's face was twisted into a grimace, and Shazam's brow was furrowed deep with worry.
“What's going on, Wizard?” Billy asked, dropping to his knees and skidding to a halt in front of the throne. Mary sat down calmly between the two boys, but Billy could sense that she was just as worried.
“The mists of magic have stirred mightily,” Shazam said. “Things long kept secret have been discovered and revealed, and I fear soon it will be too late to stop the Crisis. Our enemy has already sent our allies to destroy us.”
“What?” Mary arched an eyebrow. “Who sent whom to destroy us?”
“I do not yet know the identity of the mastermind, but the allies of which I spoke are already here.”
Suddenly, the Rock of Eternity, suspended deep within the Etherverse between the realm of mortals and the realm of gods, shook violently, a great rumbling vibrating through the entire skyward mountain.
Shazam spoke a word of magic, and suddenly the four present were transported to the highest balcony carved into the outside of the Rock, staring down at a thrall of dozens, maybe hundreds of enormous figures crackling with power, eyes glowing red with rage not their own. Some of them, Billy knew intimately. Others, he recognized by the energies that crackled over their forms or the mighty weapons in their hands.
Ares. Zeus. Thor. Odin. Hephaestus. Baal. Raijin. Hera. And many, many others.
“BEHOLD!” Shazam bellowed. “THE GODS ARE ATTACKING!”
“SHAZAM!” cried Billy Batson, and suddenly Zeus and Mercury and Hercules were sapped of much of the strength. Six bolts of thunder struck him, and Billy transformed from the tiny thirteen year old into a massive paragon of strength and wisdom—Captain Marvel, the big red cheese. His silver cape fluttered as the air that his transformation had displaced settled back down.
Next to him, Mary also shouted, and six more bolts struck her, arcing off six distant goddesses and drawing power away from them. Mary transformed from a timid girl into the teenage bastion of strength and grace, Mary Marvel.
“CAPTAIN MARVEL!” Freddy cried, and he two was struck, his bolts arching from the same six begins that gave Billy his powers, draining them further and transforming the paraplegic Freddy into Captain Marvel Jr, a silver-and-blue incarnation of the original.
The three members of the 'Marvel Family' plunged into gathered army of gods and goddesses, and the battled commenced.
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:15:10 GMT -5
Grayven's powers lanced out and tore through a green barrier shield, striking the Lantern behind it and disintegrating her molecules. The ring blasted away before Sinestro could grab it. He felt helpless, relying on the blasted oaf in the tuxedo to do all the killing. He needed a weapon, anything to kill with. Preferably something yellow, something to prevent the younger, weaker Lanterns from defending themselves.
“Ever heard of a planet known as Qward?” asked Grayven blasting away several more Green Lanterns with beams that erupted from his eyes.
“Of course,” Sinestro said. “It's in the Anti-Matter universe. I was exiled there after the traitors on Oa deemed me unworthy to be a Lantern.”
“That's where we're going,” Grayven said. A huge flash and the unmistakable BOOM of a Boom Tube, the space-distorting method that New Gods used to travel across vast distances, appeared in front of them. Graven walked into the Tube, and as more Green Lanterns poured into the room, Sinestro followed, willing to take his chances on Qward. Even death would be preferable to returning to his cell.
On the other end of the tube, The acrid smell of industry and the barren, rocky surface of Qward greeted Sinestro and Grayven. Sinestro watched as the man, who he was beginning to suspect was one of the mysterious New Gods, slowly walked towards a massive digging construct. All around them, beings worked with laser drills, and others scrambled about maintaining the digging machinery.
“What is this?” Sinestro asked, stepping forward. “Who are these people?”
“All this is my father's gift to you,” Grayven said. “These people are men and women from all over the universe who follow you, Sinestro. Your influence extends further than you know. The example of order that you made of Korugar has spread as a legend throughout the galaxy.”
Sinestro frowned. “What are they digging for?”
“There was once a single universe, in which a battle erupted. All the time lines began running together, and the fabric of reality was breaking down. Then a being of incredible power traveled to the dawn of time and reset the universe, creating anew the Multiverse. The armor which he wore was sheared from his body by the explosion of the new Big Bang, but the remnants of it were buried deep within Qward. The armor will grant you an almost limitless amount of power, though only a tiny fraction of the power it's original wearer possessed.”
Sinestro's heart leapt, but quickly returned to normal. Dare he believe this stranger. Dare he hope for such a gift, no strings attached? There must be a catch, there must be some obligation he would be expected to fulfill. Sinestro felt the hint of a smile that had formed onto his face twist into a grimace. He stroked the beard he had grown in his three years in prison.
“Who,” he asked, “is your father?”
Grayven smiled, another Boom Tube opening behind him. “My father is someone you're very familiar with,” he said, stepping backwards into the Tube. “He tried to kill you once, in fact.”
As the Tube closed, a single word came through.
Darkseid.
Then Grayven was gone, leaving Sinestro stranded on Qward, surrounded by worshipers he never knew he had, but feeling utterly alone, and despising the New God for it.
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:16:02 GMT -5
Captain Marvel flew forward, his silver cape fluttering in wind of the Etherverse and fighting off attacks from Ra, Egyptian god of the sun, and Shiva, Hindu god of destruction. He grabbed the end of Mjolnir, the mighty hammer of Thor, and flung it around, bopping the many-armed Shiva with the sturdy handle. Captain Marvel tried to heave the massive hammer back at its owner, but the incredible weight pulled him down through the Etherverse. Several gods and goddesses, eyes burning, blasted him with their own unique powers and elements as Marvel fell.
He reached down with all his strength and was able to heft Mjolnir up above his head for a brief second, even as a red demonic entity few towards him on a cloud that crackled with electricity.
“Behold, I am Raijin!” he shouted in Japanese. “Devourer of navels, god of thunder and lightning!”
Captain Marvel barely heard the mad god's tirade, his muscles starting to burn with the heft of the hammer of Thor; he flung it straight down, letting go, giving up trying to wield a weapon that was not his to wield. The head of Mjolnir slammed into Raijin's face, smashing the skull of the hungry thunder god and sending his body careening into the storm of magical energy that rested at the bottom of the Etherverse.
“Whoops!” Captain Marvel said, raising his hands in a defensive apology. “Sorry, sir!” he shouted.
As he wasn't looking, Frigg and mighty Freyja on her cat-drawn chariot charged the hero, slamming into his back. As Freyja's cat tried to maul him, Captain Marvel fought them off, punching and kicking the beasts. Mary swooped down, sliver and white costume streaking through his field of vision, slamming into Freyja and knocking her from her chariot.
Captain Marvel turned, his fist swinging wildly and decking Hera in the face, even as he elbowed Frigg in the stomach and broke free from the wild cats. He flew upward, overwhelmed by the gods and goddesses. He looked up and saw the Rock of Eternity, and that Freddy was doing his best to hold more and more of the gods off of it, as well as Shazam, casting mighty spells to keep the gods away.
But he also saw that the two were being overwhelmed, and that the Rock was beginning to fail. Tyr and Ares, gods of war both, opened up the arsenals of their mighty legions of dead worshipers on the Rock, and cracks formed all across its surface. Shazam blasted them away, but the arrows of Ares' archers slammed into his throne atop the Rock, and even from so far away, Captain Marvel could see blood leak from Shazam's frail body.
He almost cried the wizard's name, restraining himself at the last second, even as he flew up and slammed into Ares, and snapping the war god's neck. It would not be a fatal injury, not to one such as Ares, but it would put him out of the fight for the time being.
He turned and smashed Tyr with both fists—and knew that neither shot would have been possible if Shazam hadn't blasted them, disorienting the gods with his obscenely powerful magics. Mary joined him near the throne atop the Rock, bleeding from cat scratches on her forehead and arms. Captain Marvel himself was probably covered in similar wounds, but had been too distracted to notice.
Shazam called out telepathically, urging the three of the “Marvel Family” to come closer.
“What is it?” Mary asked, wiping a trickle of blood from her forehead.
“This is not a fight we can win,” Shazam said. “Already your brother has shed blood in this battle.”
Billy grimaced, partially due to remembering the crushed skull of Raijin and wishing he could forget it, and partially because the Wisdom of Solomon had been trying to get his attention and tell him it was a hopeless fight for the past ten minutes. Billy had been blocking him out.
Shazam waved his hands and spoke some magic words, and suddenly, Billy, Freddy, and Mary were encased in magic bubbles and hurled backwards away from the Rock. The gods seemed to ignore them, instead attacking Shazam. Powerful magics washed over the Rock of Eternity, and then it vanished in a brilliant flash.
A split second later, Billy found himself sitting in the dining area of the little ice cream shop, his sister beside him, both back to their normal selves sitting in front of their half-eaten Chocolate Egg Creams. They looked at each other, neither of them asking the obvious questions.
The bell attached to the door gave a short jingle, and Sam stepped back in, looking at the Batson siblings oddly. “Weren't you just not here?” he asked, more talking to himself than to them. He shrugged. “You kids better get home. Something's not right, look at the sky. I don't like this one bit.”
Billy and Mary walked outside and stared up into the blood red sky.
It was 4:00 PM.
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:16:44 GMT -5
Over Gotham City, a massive explosion erupted in the middle of the broad daylight sky; there was no warning as there had been nothing there to explode. The windows of Wayne Tower shattered inward, as did many other windows for miles around. Shards of super-hot rock scattered through the city, tearing through buildings, cars, and flesh, and from the center of the explosion, a deep crimson radiated outward, staining the blue sky, as if the atmosphere itself was bleeding.
The body of Shaman, ancient and lifeless, drained of the magic energy that kept him vital for centuries, fell from the sky.
By the time it reached the streets of Gotham, nothing remained but dust.
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:18:58 GMT -5
The shards of ancient armor, buried since the dawn of time, were cool to the touch like any metal should be, but as soon as he placed his hand on them, Sinestro felt their energy rush through him. The being who had worn this armor must have been truly godlike. In an instant, things that Sinestro had never known before became instantly clear to him.
He understood secrets few could appreciate.
Fear was the key. And surrounded by followers who understood why fear was the true path to order, a grim and glorious idea was birthed in Sinestro's mind. The shards of armor rose into the air, swirling, their energy flowing out. Energy coalesced and a rift opened, a rift to the atmosphere above Earth. It would have been so easy for Sinestro to reach out and destroy the planet of his hated enemy John Stewart right there, with the power he had now.
But Sinestro had far greater plans than that. Anyone would, knowing now what they knew.
Energy coalesced into the form of a great mantis, glowing yellow and full of spite and fear. It was a being known as Parallax that Sinestro intended to subdue, and with the power of the ancient armor, he did so, calling the malignant entity back together from where it had been shattered. The shards swirled together, becoming bonds that held Parallax. Light radiated off them—yellow light—and Sinestro hurled the vast ball of power into a mountainside. Matter and energy flashed and transmuted in an instant, and soon a massive power battery rivaling the one on Oa grew from the rocky Qwardian terrain.
A yellow power battery.
Sinestro reached his hand out, summoning a tiny shard of the armor's metal. It wrapped around his finger and formed a ring. Then he spoke: “In blackest day, in brightest night, beware your fears made into light. Let those who try to stop what's right, burn like my power—"
Power rings all flew out of the Power Battery and onto the fingers of Sinestro's followers. And in unison, they finished the oath for him.
“SINESTRO'S MIGHT!”
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Post by arcalian on Jan 14, 2009 0:19:27 GMT -5
Clark Kent stepped out of the Daily Planet building into the sunny spring day in Metropolis, glad to feel the energizing sun on his skin. It was brisk, but Clark didn't notice like everyone else. He was a bit different than everyone else. So when a massive mechanical monstrosity appeared in the sky, Clark heard it first, saw it first, and reacted first. Civilians all around stared up at the metallic monster, shoulders as broad as Centennial Park and hands over which flames danced gracefully. The titanic beast seemed to roar, as tiny blue figures began pouring out of its abdomen. While the civilians began to panic and flee, Clark Kent went the other way, slipping into a back alley and pulling off his business suit to reveal the attire of his most important business underneath. Superman emerged from the alley, arcing skyward to meet the attacker. Above him, the sky began to turn red as blood. If you wish to comment on this issue, please CLICK HERE to visit the letters page.
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