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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:23:02 GMT -5
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:24:20 GMT -5
Action Comics
Issue 4: "Must There be a Superman, Part One: Fragments and Facets"
Written by House Of Mystery
Cover by Ramon Villalobos
Edited by David Charlton |
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:25:43 GMT -5
Black Zero raised a certain amount of questions about the reliability of Metahumans in times of crisis. Metropolis was gone for merely two, three days at the most, but like most things nowadays, the press picked up on it fast, ran with it, and on day three…
The United Nations immediately called a special meeting of all the representatives of the member countries. Superman, the one man they relied on to fight for justice around the world, had vanished, the city he chose to protect gone with him. A proposal was immediately written up, that of a UN sanctioned super team, compromised of the best metahumans each country had to offer… Even though very few of the countries had specific heroes to offer. Maxwell Lord, President of the United States of America insisted that the most experienced member of the team be the leader, and so the American representative, a man who had been in the employ of every president since the late 1940s, begrudgingly took the role, and he quickly rallied the team into a fantastic fighting force ready to face whatever challenge thrown their way!
And Dr. Zagarian, ex member of the Metropolis based Cadmus project, was glad to give the new team a threat on a Superman [or the more commonley used term: ‘omega’] threat level, a special level of emergency that was reserved for extraterristrial threats of the highest degree. He released the Project: Shaggy Man, a monstrosity that was composed of a regenerative material that constantly rebuilt the molecules and atoms of the creature, with help from a mutated version of Salamander DNA… It was super strong, super fast, and invunerable to damage… And its very first sentient act was to kill its creator, and then go on a rampage in Washington, and was only stopped from destroying the city by the quick thinking of the leader of the UN team, and his team mate Split, a meta with the ability to teleport anything with a thought. The team followed the beast to the Antartic, where we’ll catch up with them momentarily.
And when we rejoin the team, ask yourself this: Do you think a world without Superman is a world anyone wants to live in?
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:26:33 GMT -5
He’s been out of action for too long, his tactical mind like his muscles, unused for so long, the memory still there but without practice… He’s not using his head, and when he’s dropped in situations like this, in the bitter cold of the Antarctic, he regrets it immensely. His shield is as bright as ever, golden light reflecting onto the snow, protecting him from the blows that are rained down on him from the enemy… Jim Harper has been alive for 80 years, and could this be his last day on Earth, beaten to death by the unstoppable, unbeatable, Shaggy Man?
The Guardian feels his fight enhancements buzz under his skin, 50 year old mechanics and still at peak performing condition, and leaps over the hairy monstrosity, and lands over by his team, each in some form of discomfort. Cloud is awfully dim, her usual blue glow all but diminished, her powers at a low, and her arm fractured in five places, tears clouding her version, pain fuzzying her abilities, and making her aim shaky. Faith has bound the wound tight with her own energy powers, but her hair is sticky with blood, streaming down from a head wound across from temple to temple. Olympian stands prepared, his axe covered with green liquid from a wound he inflicted on the beast, but the creature’s flesh had knitted back together, and become resistant to the effects of the ‘magical’ weapon. His Golden Fleece is matted with blood, not his own, but from his lover Godiva’s scalp, her magical prehensile hair torn out, her powers virtually removed by bloody force. Jim Harper looks over to Split, who lies unconscious on the floor, and starts barking orders.
“Liam!” A man with a Jack O’Lantern for a face turns at his name, and grasps his appendage, the bone protruding from his forearm. “Get Split AWAKE and get the team OUT!”
The Irishman nods and mumbles something in a thick Irish brogue, then slaps the small youth awake with a glowing purple hand.
“ARIS!” He spits the name of the Olympian out, and then somersaults out of range of his attacker. “Diversion!”
The Greek abides and summons all his power behind his axe, and then sprints at the creature screaming in a foreign language. He brings down the force of his weapon on the Shaggy Man’s head, and the metal just cracks and flies away from the beast’s hairy skull. The hero’s face goes blank for a moment, totally unnerved by the destruction of his weapon, and then is thrown flying back, his jaw broken, blood covering the Shaggy Man’s matted fist.
Split jerks up as Liam breaks mystical smelling salts beneath his nose, and brings his hand down in the air, the Olympian vanishing with a whisper of air. He looks around and motions his hands down again and again, the injured team vanishing at Harper’s behest. Jack O’Lantern looks over to The Guardian, who is being pounded down into the snow beneath his shield and shakes his head.
“Ah, Lad, get the hell outta here. I’ll help the ol’ man, you just make sure they send someone major down ‘ere while we keep the damn’d freak contained…”
Split nods and smiles.
“He’s gonna kill you, dude…” Liam laughs loudly beneath his mask.
“I knows, I knows…” He slaps the kid’s face and Split vanishes, and Jack turns to his enemy and leader. “Come on then ya’ big ‘airy £$%^&*$!” He sprints towards the creature, his wound bound tightly, and is about to release a powerful blast of dark energy when…
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:26:57 GMT -5
Superman flies in Earth’s lower atmosphere, an eerie calm overcoming him, a feeling somewhat foreign to him after what seemed like an eternity in the Phantom Zone. He can’t be in Metropolis right now… He needs to get away… Smallville isn’t an option at the moment of course, because he doesn’t want to tell his adopted parents of the torture he and the citizens of Metropolis suffered at his evil duplicates hands. And Black Zero itself… His powers were at their lowest ebb… Yet he was able to defeat the greatest evil known to his people? He sighs to himself, and then flies to the Antarctic, to his Fortress of Solitude, continually asking himself how the hell he defeated the monster.
But how can he feel solitude when there are people battling outside of his home?
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:27:28 GMT -5
The Shaggy Man is yanked off the ground, and then juggled in the air for a moment as Superman examines him with x-ray vision.
The Guardian looks up, pops his dislocated shoulders back into place and then looks over to Jack O’Lantern, who shrugs in surprise.
“SUPERMAN!”
The Man of Steel looks down at the golden clad hero.
“IT’S A HIGHLY SOPHISTICATED TECHNO ORGANIC ROBOT! IT’S KILLED OVER A DOZEN PEOPLE!” Guardian finishes what he was saying and realises what he just said. It was new to him…
Superman scratches his chin and grabs the creature by his leg, dodging the beast’s frenzied attacks, and starts to swing it around again and again until he releases it, the monstrosity flying through the sky and into space, where the momentum of the throw directs it straight out of Earth’s orbit and into the direction of the Sun.
“Whoa.” Jack O’Lantern’s jaw drops, and he nudges Harper with his good arm. “We were supposed to replace him?”
The Guardian smiles and mutters to himself. “Not replace… Fill in for.” He takes out a small device from his pocket and salutes the Man of Tomorrow, then presses the button and vanishes with his comrade to parts unknown.
Superman lands on the soft snow, and puts his hands on his hips, curious. “Interesting. I guess I have a lot to catch up on.”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:27:50 GMT -5
Superman picks up the golden sphere that contains his Fortress home, and presses the special code that allows his access to it, a bright light enveloping him as the dimensional barrier between reality and the tesseract softens and he’s absorbed into his home away from home, his Fortress of Solitude.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:28:09 GMT -5
Tomar Re tracks Jar Kell’s energy signature to the last place it was used. A place called Metropolis, in the Americas, on the planet named Earth, just near the outskirts of Sector 2814.
He lands in the shadows, and takes on a more human form, black suit and tie, attaché case to his side.
“Where are you Jar?”
He looks down at his ring and scans the area, and looks down at the floor, blood residue spread across the floor and a new piece of pavement where an old piece was demolished. What does that mean? As people hustle and bustle around him, making their way to work, he becomes immaterial, and slides down into the sewers of the city, searching for any trace of his dead comrade and friend.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:28:58 GMT -5
…But I lost the body… Thinks Lex Luthor, smiling to himself as he examines the green jewelled ring that is suspended in the centre of the room.
“What have we got now, Happerson?”
“Strange thing, sir… It reacted to the yellow spectrum ray we were testing it with. A sudden subtle surge of power in its inanimate form, but nothing that constitutes what you’ve told me you’ve seen. No animates, no constructs, just a bit of a heat increase.”
Lex nods, knowingly. “Yellow, the weakness.” He remembers how a simple yellow mesh across his chest saved his very life, and how used the information to his utmost advantage, scattering the alien called Kell’s brain along the floor and making sure… he was dead. So if he was dead, how did he misplace the body?
“Happerson, get something yellow around that ring, then put it into storage. Is the techno organic ingestible ready?”
Happerson nods.
“I’ll need it, I’m going out.”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:29:20 GMT -5
The Fortress of Solitude is surprisingly spotless. The maintenance droids had fixed the battle torn rooms that had resulted from Superman’s battle with his evil double, and the only evidence of the fight was the microscopic traces of blood that Superman could see with a squint of his eye. He shook his head and sat down, scratching his slightly bearded face, and relaxes. Clark Kent had vanished for a while, back to Smallville Lois would assume, but Superman only had this place… He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, only to be met by a flickering gallery of horror from the phantom zone, and the lurched awake, crushing the armrest he had leaned on. He can’t sleep now. Not after that… Too many unanswered questions linger within him.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:29:35 GMT -5
Tomar Re examines the lead lined sewers, a green beam of light gently floating across the slimy wet floors, searching for any trace of his dead friend.
His ring suddenly vibrates, and he spins around, a green ray of light from nowhere beaming down on a patch on the floor. Tomar raises his ring and scans the area, and sees pints of dried blood all over the floor, and nods slowly, confused by the disembodied light that stands before him. He scans it immediately, and tilts his neck, the power source being of green will power, like his own power ring…
The beam of light flutters and shakes, and a green reconstruction of the sewer appears, holograms of events past, and Tomar records what follows.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:30:11 GMT -5
The green ceiling erupts with debris, and a human voice speaks, loud, angry… “Thought you could kill me, eh?” A bald man in green and purple smashes a man whom Tomar recognises to be Jar Kell into the sewer system, a sharp fist digging into Jar’s neck. “I’m Lex Luthor! I’m a GOD!”
Lex Luthor? Who is this Luthor? Whoever he is, he slams down his fist into the Lantern’s face, bloody spraying everywhere. Jar tries to lift his hand up but Lex smashes another fist down. “Can’t form a coherent thought? Still gonna’ moan about how I exude a colour? Well I’ve got your number now, alien…”
A yellow blade slides out of his gauntlet and Lex slices down, removing Jar’s ringed fist with another splatter of blood. Tomar cringes slightly, and shakes his head.
“That piece of jewellery is mine now, freak. First punch I landed, I injected you with gold nitrate, straight to your neck, straight to your brain. You couldn’t say a word if your life depended on it.”
Jar puts up his bloody stump and his torn up hand, and smiles slightly. Tomar feels slightly relieved… he doesn’t know why.
“W-Will power is all I have ever had… Human… But now I see your problem… You… You’re a fascist… Not wa-wanting your will to be overturned by new ideas…”
Tomar laughs at the impetuous of Jar’s words, and watches as the recording of the injured Green Lantern smiles and spits out more blood from his lips. “You hate change, but change is coming now… I see… Something dark coming your way. The Omega and the Alpha…”
Tomar frowns… Jar was never one to spout nonsense like that…
The man known as Lex Luthor raises his hand, smiling. “You’ll deal with the devil to get your way…”
What did Jar’s cryptic words mean?
“You’re insane. I’m doing you a favour.”
Re watches as Luthor hesitates, his hand quivering.
Does he do the deed? Does he kill Jar?
“Xenophobe.”
Holy Hells, thinks Tomar. Kell really pushed it, didn’t he? Lex Luthor smashes his fist down and Jar’s head breaks open, blood and brain spilling across the metal sewers. The green recording splutters, and Tomar watches as the Green Lantern’s life ends, and a green light suddenly is turned off in Oa. The hologram fades, but Tomar has it all in his own ring… What a strange event to view, he thinks… Seeing one of your dearest friends murdered by a primitive life form.
Tomar points his ring up, and a green floating head appears in front of him. Ganthet speaks, and Tomar listens. “We have received the pirate transmission… Someone or something hijacked the power source to allow you to view that was seen…”
“You don’t think that Jar could still be alive… Do you?”
“We saw what you saw. Find the body, find his ring, then we shall resolve the matter…”
Tomar nods. “Before transmission ends… What am I to do if I encounter this Earth’s Superman? Did we ever verify if he had gone rogue or not?”
Ganthet thinks for a moment. “Never verified… But the Black Kryptonite could have had unforeseen effects on his Kryptonian biology. Do not allow yourself to be lost to the Corps, Tomar Re. If an encounter with the Kryptonian is unavoidable, you know what to do…”
The transmission cuts off, leaving only a disembodied voice.
“Kill him…”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:30:35 GMT -5
Strykers Island is in uproar. “Superman is gone, Superman is dead.” They chant, fully believing the Metropolis Marvel to be gone from the world of the living after he hasn’t been spotted anywhere in the world for the past days. The chants grow louder and louder, windows shaking and the staff shivering… What if Superman was really dead? Strykers was off the shore of Metropolis, so they were spared from the Black Zero effect, but still… They have televisions, radios… Some know of the events that transpired, and information can be currency in a place like this… Suddenly, the lights cut off in the main population block, and there’s a cheer… A power outage? The noise becomes deafening, the staff unable to lock down the cells… Does this mean that the cell doors will open, freeing Metropolis’ worse? How could this happen when it’s powered by its own private generator?
Warden Willis kicks a wall, angered.
“WAYNE ENTERPRISE PIECE OF CRAP!” He unlocks a weapons cabinet, hands out the shotguns, and readies the CO’s, but then the power flickers back on in the staff offices, only the main prison wing is hidden in darkness.
“Warden! The security cams are back up…”
Willis looks up, confused… The cells were quiet, no noise… Apart from weeping?
“What the hell is happening here?”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:31:00 GMT -5
“Who’s there?” Albino Pete, thrice-convicted serial killer and all round evil guy, shouts at the darkness, confused at the events transpiring… He leans close to the bars of his cell, and a gloved fist shoots through, grapping his throat, and dragging him into the metal posts.
“Superman isn’t dead.”
The voice is gruff, angry. Pete feels a wet trickle down his leg, and can’t stop his bottom lip quivering. “If he were, then I would become good friends with you. Metropolis would be under my protection. And Superman is a soft hand compared to me…”
The man cloaked in shadows tightens his grip on Pete, and then releases his victim.
“Wh-Who the hell are you?” Pete scrambles to the back of his small cell, shaking.
“Who am I?” The man smiles to himself, and vanishes in a flick of cape. “I’m Batman. Spread the word.”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:31:22 GMT -5
“Did that make you feel better, Master Bruce?” Alfred Pennyworth speaks into the microphone, and hears Bruce Wayne grunt in agreement. There’s an awkward silence as Batman flies back to Gotham city is his stealth fighter, his Bat-Wing… “Is Superman really dead?”
“You’ve met the man many times, Alfred… What do you think?”
Alfred laughs on the other end of the microphone. “He’ll be back.”
“And we’ll all be waiting.” Bruce pushes down on the accelerator, and hurtles through the sky towards his home.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:31:39 GMT -5
For the past few days, Lois has worked feverishly, collecting interviews with Metropolites, typing them up on her PC, and compiling a true to the facts account of the Black Zero effect. She has barely slept, and her colleagues were beginning to worry.
“Lois..?” Jimmy Olsen knocks on the door to her office and smiles. “I bring forth coffee…” He smiles slightly, and scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Are you ok? You look like hell…”
Lois turns from her computer and rolls her eyes. “Why thank you, Jimmy, I needed to hear that…”
He coughs slightly, and passes the coffee to her. He turns to leave when she coughs.
“Uh… Jimmy… Thanks for this, alright?”
“Heh… Don’t thank me… Perry would kill me if he found out I was doing this… He told everyone to leave you alone…”
“What?”
His eyes widen, realising what he just said.
“Uh… Nothing…” He runs off back to the bullpen and she shakes her head.
“Hrm…”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:32:01 GMT -5
“Me no… Why does… Hurt to think…” He rubs his temples, the pounding on his brain returning once more. “Argh… Things not… Coming to me… Right…”
He’s been here before, the edge of insanity… And back again. But he’s fallen into the depths, for how long… He doesn’t know… The pain subsides for moments, and he looks down at himself, crumpled, wrinkled clothes on his body, stains on his white t-shirt, a beer belly where there was once rippling muscles… He looks up at his hand, and cringes. Old, worn fingers, bitten finger nails, this isn’t him… He cringes, as his thoughts seem to hammer down on him once more, his ability to think fading, the bad thinking coming back, the not so quite right process… Joey sits in a wheelchair and looks up at Lindsey, who smiles slightly.
“Yes, yes, we’ve been through this…” She leans into him and licks the side of his face, until she reaches his ear. “I did this to you… For my daddy…” She rolls him over the ramp, and smiles. “Want a hotdog?”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:32:29 GMT -5
Lex sits in his an office that is not his, and waits patiently. There’s a rustle behind the door, and a uniformed man opens the entrance, guiding a man with half his arm missing on his right side. He’s scarred heavily, burns covering what visible flesh lies around his arm and shoulder. “Who th’ hell is this den?” He spits when he speaks, and it amuses Lex.
“I’m Lex Luthor, and you… You’re a soon to be convicted multiple murderer and failed bank robber. But we both have things in common…”
The man tilts his head as he’s handcuffed to the chair opposite Lex.
“Superman has gotten in our way.”
The man visibly flinches at the name, and a film of sweat forms on his forehead.
“Talk den man…”
“I come offering a major opportunity, and amnesty for the crimes you’ve committed…”
The man cringes at his final words, and then arches an eyebrow.
“Only way I’m gettin’ out of dis is if I die, y’know? So what you gonna’ do? Kill me?”
“If you want…” Lex Luthor smiles. Killing some time in Blackgate prison… “Ingest this, and you’ll be reborn as the greatest thing since… Barrage Mark One.” He passes him a small purple tablet, cold to the hand, and metallic to taste.
“What is it, big man?”
“Barrage Mark Two.”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:32:56 GMT -5
Superman watches the events of the world unfold on his multiple television screens in his observatory nexus, in the Fortress. He has watched the past days television coverage, knows of everything that has transpired, and thinks to himself. The villain nicknamed ‘Barrage’ by the media had been held at Blackgate, Lexcorp stock had taken a nosedive during the Black Zero event, but now was gradually rising, and a black bat has been sighted in the skies of Metropolis.
Curious and curiouser. What was Bruce doing in the city? Superman smiles to himself. He probably was looking for him… But with his absence… He thinks back, tenses his fist.
Too many loose ends, he thinks. Where’s Jar? He looks up, his memory hazy but a fog lifting momentarily… Jar Kell, the Green Lantern… What was going on? Why couldn’t he remember the little details from his encounter with the Green Lantern?
He shakes his head. Had the battle with Black Zero really taken its toll on him that much? He needs to return to Metropolis, needs to tie everything up before… Before he forgets who he is, before the Black Zero effect really overcomes him…
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:33:18 GMT -5
An earthquake rattles the small South American village, and mighty cracks shoot across the ground, the earth opening up and trying to bite down on the civilisation above.
Superman flies in the clouds, when a vibration hits his ear, and he is engulfed by dozens of birds, wings and feathers hitting him as he turns against the winds, trying desperately not to vaporise the animals by accidentally flying thought them. He shoots down to the tremor inflicted area, and lands on the ground, quickly assessing the situation. Cracks shoot beneath his feet, and he spins around as a woman screams, her child tumbling down into the Earth. He explodes from his position, whisking the boy from his fall and flies back up, and grips the woman around her waist, flying them clear of the area.
“Superman! Superman!” The woman hugs his chest, and he smiles.
He looks back to the area and flies back to the small town, grabbing men and women, girls and boys, and gets them clear of the earthquake ridden land. When he’s sure that everyone is clear, he drills into the ground head first, and heads towards the tectonic plate causing the mighty tremors. Superman knows that when the underground rocks push against each other in opposite directions as the Earth moves, they keep stretching and when they can stretch no more, they break… And the earth quakes with almighty power! He looks around, trying desperately to figure out what his next move should be, when he reaches the breaking point of the earthquake, a rip in the make up of the planet, where jagged rocks crashing against each other shake a planet to the core, knowing he has to ease the tension below surface of the earth, to stop the quake before it claims any lives.
He finds the two plates that are grinding against each other, and places his hand on each, and then scours them apart with his heat vision, and then with a mighty effort, he separates the two pieces of rock, and then holds them away from each other, the tremors ceasing. He looks around, and then looks up, his almighty strength holding two pieces of a world at bay. Superman nods slowly, and eases them back together, and as he slips fingers away, and the plates slam back together, a final tremor rocks the town above, and then nothing, the earthquake has ended, leaving Superman sealed beneath the Earth, and with the residents of the village slowly creeping back towards their wrecked home, another tremor rocks the landscape, and Superman bursts out of the ground, a torrent of dust pouring out behind him.
He turns to the residents, who cheer and scream his name and then flies up into the sky, a strange feeling at the back of his mind.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:33:38 GMT -5
“Heh, thanks for that rousing speech Mr Mayor…” There’s a rumble of laughter as John Henry Irons takes the microphone from Mayor Berkowitz, wearing a black suit, and stands atop a stage where the press are gathered. “As you might know, my name is John Henry Irons, and I’m here making a major donation to the Major Crimes Unit section of the MPD. After Black Zero…” There’s another rumble of noise, this time an uncomfortable one. “… I think we need to feel safe in our own city, and Superman can’t always be relied on to deliver us. He’s only one man, and I understand that he will always be here, will always be present in the city, but the man, the hero, does enough… We need to step up to the plate, and help him help us.” He smiles and there’s a flutter of light as the photographers gathered take photos of him. “And without further ado, I present to you my donation to the MCU. The Steel Armour, armoured suits more powerful than anything the Major Crimes Unit have experienced before.”
He walks over to a large blue and black battle suit, and begins to point out the qualities of the armour.
“Keyed only to MPD personnel, it is impossible for anyone other than police officers to wear…” He smiles, scratching his beard. “These are ready for Black Zero level threats to our city, and if another ones of these creeps comes along, then we’ll lock them down before any real damage to our fair city can be done.” John looks at the armour and pats it slowly, then turns back to the press.
“Questions?”
“Alex Trebon, WLX, don’t you think the criminals of this city could view this as a challenge Mr Irons, and amp up their own arsenal as a result?”
“That has already crossed my mind, Mr Trebon, and I assure you, these babies are well equipped for anything that anyone else can up with.” He points to the arm canon of the armour. “Localised EMPs, capable of taking down anything they’re directed at, even the most shielded of devices. I’m talking capable of taking down LexCorp level shielding, and I assure, you, Mr Luthor develops the best shielding for his devices, and other… Such things.” He smiles to himself this time. “Next question?”
“Are you ready to DIE, Irons?” John spins around and stumbles back, a man with a monstrosity of machinery covering his body, cables writhing from the inside of his body out, and blood dripping from the wounds standing at the back of the parting crowd. “Because it’s part of my contract to KILL you!” His metallic purple arm shifts into the shape of a canon, and blood gushes from his shoulder as he fires of a belch of plasma at John Henry, too fast for anyone to dodge…
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:34:03 GMT -5
Superman lands in Smallville, his uniform in torn shreds, and opens flies into the barn, changing his clothes as he floats down to the house next door.
“You know son, it’s always good to call when you’re going to be away for a while…”
He turns and looks over to the sofa that rests snugly next to the side of the barn, where his adopted father, Jonathan Kent, sits. “Pa!” He hugs the man and Jon pats his back as he does so.
“Where have you been? Your mother and me have been worried sick… We saw the news about Metropolis…”
“I sorted it all out, but I can’t rightly remember how… It’s all a blur…”
Jon arches an eyebrow and tilts his head down, trying to look at his son’s eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Bits of myself… I think I’ve lost them… Little fragments of who I am… Lost them in the phantom zone…”
“Sit down, Clark…”
Clark does so, and rubs his temples.
“Tell me what you’re feeling…”
He turns and looks at his dad, and shakes his head once more. “I’m forgetting things!” He clenches his fist. “Little things, things that should be important, but they just… I can’t remember! I remember you. Ma. Metropolis, bits in-between, I think I may have beaten Black Zero, but I think… I’m losing the war…”
“Black Zero? Is this what you fought when Metropolis vanished?”
“Yes, it was a Kryptonian monster, believed it was a God but it wasn’t… At all. It became bound with the Phantom Zone when Krypton died… And when Zod and the others came to Earth, they brought that with them…”
“How did you beat it? Because I’m assuming you did after all this…”
Clark looks up, his eyes red. “Don’t… Don’t you get it, Pa? I don’t know... I can’t even remember that…”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:34:23 GMT -5
“Damn, oh damn, oh damn…” Happerson looks everywhere in the lab, and rubs his sweaty palms on his white coat.
“Happerson, what is the matter?” Lex Luthor enters, befuddled by his employee’s apparent panic attack.
“The hand, the alien’s hand… We’ve lost it!”
Lex’s eyes open wide but he quells the anger rising inside him, not wanting to degenerate into the raging wreck he was days ago, an experience he didn’t enjoy as much as he could have, and not one he wants to repeat..
“Where’s the ring?” Lex calmly walks up to the scientist and places a hand on his lackey’s shoulder, causing Happerson’s face to drain of colour. “Where’s the ring?”
“I…Forgot about that…” He escapes Lex’s soft grip and presses a button on a large safe, and the lead lined door opens. The green ring sits in a yellow glass box, glowing slightly, reacting to the golden haze surrounding it. “Still there…”
“Good man, Happerson. I care not for aliens, I care for power. Weaponry! And I have reason to believe that that ring is the most powerful weapon in the universe… And I intend to exploit it!”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:34:54 GMT -5
To be concluded!
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:38:25 GMT -5
SPECIAL BONUS STORY
Agents of the Department of Extra-Normal Operations
Part One: "We're All Going to Metropolis!"
Written by Ramon Villalobos and House Of Mystery
Edited by David Charlton
With thanks to Scott Kruger!
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:39:18 GMT -5
COMMENCEMENT OF BLACK ZERO EVENT PLUS THREE
A man in a wrinkled and ruffled black suit waits at a bus stop with a duffle bag and a Super Big Gulp. His hair is as messy as his stained white shirt half tucked into his faded black pants. The cars pass and he stares straight ahead, the whole time humming Prince’s Erotic City. He looks over at a man with long blonde hair and a trendy pair of glasses pulling up beside him in a brand new black Mustang. Without speaking he sighs and heaves the duffle bag into the back seat and sets his oversized beverage on the floor of the brand new automobile. They drive for three minutes before the longhaired burly man looks over to the shorter stocky man in the passenger seat who is trying for the life of him to light a cigarette and says, “So what happened with your date last night?”
The shorter man with the messy suit and greying goatee looks over and chuckles. “All right.”
The burly man sighs and shakes his head. “‘All right’? Just ‘all right’? What do you mean ‘all right’?”
“It means we went out, had a good time, went home, had a BETTER time, and now…” he says fumbling with his lighter “…Its over.”
The blonde man lowers his glasses, turns down the volume on the radio, cocks his eyebrow and, in disbelief, asks, “Just like that?”
The shorter dark haired man looks over gives two more flicks to his lighter in vain and reaffirms his friend, “Just like that Clev.”
Clevenger, the tall man with blonde hair and glasses looks over to his shorter, darker haired, goateed friend Nodell and asks, “Well what happened?”
”I just told you didn’t I?” He asks back raising an eyebrow as he examines his lighter.
“Sure, but I mean what happened that led to the sudden demise of this relationship that until last night---.”
“This morning.” Nodell corrects with a grin.
“Okay, a relationship that until this morning was going smooth but now is apart of the vast entity of ended relationships and one night stands that you call… Your love life?”
“Well,” Nodell begins, taking a breath while fumbling with his broken lighter with his unlit cigarette still dangling from his mouth. “I woke this morning to get ready to come here and I was looking for my tie under her bed and I found something.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
”The boogieman!?!” Clevenger says in a mocking tone.
”No… far worse.”
“FARADAY?!?” Clevenger exaggerates.
Nodell turns away from his lighter to Clevenger with a blank face, “Do you want to know or not?”
“Please,” he says “Enlighten me. I am dying with anticipation.”
“Well, I look under her bed right? And I find a toe sock.”
“WHAT?!?” Clevenger asks, bewildered by the revelation.
“It’s a sock but it has like, little separate socks for each-”
“No, I know a toe sock is, you broke up with her because you found a toe sock?”
“I had to.”
Clevenger rolls his eyes and nods “Well of course you broke up with her because of her toes socks…” He stops talking for a moment, and watches the road in front. Without warning, he then turns back to Nodell. “You have got to be kidding me!” Clevenger shakes his head, laughing to himself as he pounds his hand against the steering wheel.
“Nope, I cannot be with a woman who owns a pair of toe socks, they creep me out. Just knowing, just the thought of them being in the same room would irritate me to no end, I just know it.” He says still fixated on his cigarette.
Clevenger laughs and looks at his chain-smoking partner who is staring at his cigarette as if it would light out of will power alone. He shakes his head and hands Nodell the already charged cigarette lighter out of his dashboard. Nodell Looks at it, then his cigarette, then his broken lighter and tries once more with his lighter before accepting the offer.
“I hate using these things, a cigarette lit without a flame does not taste the same. It can’t.” Nodell, satisfied with his musing, leans forward and raises the volume of the cars stereo. The station is set on Star 103.6 The Music of Yesteryear Today, as if the programmers are proud. The song is Dancing in the Street by Mick Jagger and David Bowie. Nodell rolls his eyes and leans again to change it when the giant paw of his partner who is staring at the road meets his tobacco stained hand.
“Wait.” Clevenger says stoically, “What if they were right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Nodell asks reaching again for the knob to be met again by the hand of his partner.
“What if Bowie and Jagger were right? What if all we need is to come together and dance in the street to end all the world’s problems? The famine, the diseases, the nuclear destruction, what if it could all be ended by coming together in the streets and just dancing?”
“It will never happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because Clev, that would involve ME getting in the street and dancing and that is NEVER going to happen.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I would take the famine, disease, nuclear destruction…” He pauses for a moment and smiles. “Hell, I will even take the activists trying to stop those things before I have to listen to that damn song.” Satisified by his own response, he finally changes the station.
Clevenger raises his finger for a counterpoint but comes up short. “Fair enough.”
“Good.” Bill takes a long drag on his cigarette and then looks around. “Can we get some tacos or something, I’m hungry as hell.” He knocks some ashes onto the interior of the new Mustang. Clevenger rolls his eyes, shakes his head and snatches the cigarette from between his friends lips, tosses it out the window and then resumes driving, much to the surprise of his now awoken partner. “HEY!”
“You shouldn’t smoke,” Clev begins with a smirk on his face. “Its bad for you.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“Tried it Bill.” Clevenger says casually.
“And?” Nodell says looking over, now curious and without cigarette.
His colleague taps his chest and smiles. “Still knocking.” Clevenger says as he turns up the radio and drives on. “We’re close now, you see that?” He points up through the windshield, at the massive black monstrosity blocking the sky and nods slowly. “Get you’re thinking cap on, we’ve got a job to do.”
“Whatever…”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:41:47 GMT -5
AT METROPOLIS: THE CORDON:
World new, world events, everything you see occurs on television. You wouldn’t know about anything if you didn’t see it happen on prime time, and things like that obscure your vision of the truth. Bias, people own views on what’s happening make it awful hard to discern the true facts of the matter. Censorship. But it’s not about the news right now; it’s about the men behind it.
Black Zero happened fast, but not so fast that the press didn’t get wind of it! Within hours, news teams were everywhere, swarming around the army perimeter’s trying their best for their Pulitzer, their big break. So imagine… We have three groups of people. The army, containing the scene, making sure that nothing comes out of the sphere to threaten the rest of the country… Nay, the world… And also trying to find out what the hell that massive black sphere is… The second group, the journalists. Like vermin, scrambling for a story. It’s like a riot of news people, all vying for the best spot for their Pulitzer award winning piece, and finally we have the believers. This group makes up the majority of what we have here, all the men and women who believe in UFOs, abductions and the what not… Everywhere, with their signs and their costumes… But the group that we focus on now, the man…
He kicks the mud with his new shoes, and then immediately regrets it. Instead of blaming himself he turns on the next best thing. His crew.
“Ah great, what the hell are you bumbling morons doing now!?!” Demands newsman Trevor Tompkins, as the feed on his camera goes out.
Working with incompetent news crews is not a new experience for him but these idiots must not realize that they are in the middle of the biggest story of the century! A giant black dome of energy that is virtually impenetrable (meaning they’ve only seen one man make it through, and that man being especially Super) has eaten up Metropolis, and they can’t even do the simple job of recording him. So what if the entire herd of news reporters had coincidentally went out at the same time? He is TREVOR FREAKING TOMPKINS! He shouldn’t have to put up with this crap. He shouldn’t have to put up with the bad locations that are probably going to play havoc with his skin, he shouldn’t have to put up with the waves of washed up junkies that are surrounding the dome waiting for the ‘mother ship’ to come out, he shouldn’t have to put up with the muddy ground the military is confining the media to, he shouldn’t have to put up with cold coffee because the nearest pot is somewhere miles away, there is only so much one man can endure. The damn wastoids surrounding the news perimeter smelled too! If they weren’t there to waiting for their alien queen to appear, this might be going better but between the winds coming from the sphere, his lack of caffeine, the damn babies crying as they get taken away in the storm from their drug addled parents, it builds up.
Trevor Tompkins looks around and sees a red light bulb go off in a distance and begins to shout at his crew again. They are busy fussing around with wires as he notices more lights go up and this whole sphere of hell as the news reporters were calling it was nothing on the hell he was about to unleash. He looks at the camera waiting for the bulb to flash and his national coverage to start when out of nowhere mud flies up and destroys the lens. The colour is washed away from Tompkins’ face as he sees the camera men grow wide eyed and rush to the van to get what had better goddamn be a new lens. They rush out hurriedly trying to correct their idiotic mistake.
Trevor reaches into his back pocket for a small mirror to check if his makeup was at least applied correctly before he drove up to this damn landfill. Nope. The small, almost miniscule amount of cream to conceal the ever so slight birthmark on his chin was smudged and completely unacceptable.
Finally the fools get the camera working and he twists into his 3/4s camera stance and gets ready for the report of his year. The light comes on and his hands clench the microphone as he begins to read from his prepared on-the-spot report. Suddenly, just as he comes into his zone he notices two men in his peripheral vision making their way into his frame. One was longhaired with an ugly black jacket, keystone Flash t-shirt and tacky pair of sunglasses and the other shorthaired with a disgusting black suit, unkempt goatee, and cigarette dangling from his mouth. As soon as they make it to the crew they shove the Camera down into the mud and pull the wires from the equipment.
“HEY!” Tompkins protests.
“Do you have a problem sir?” The longhaired one asks.
“Yeah, yeah I got a problem.” The newscaster exclaims, “This is my segment, I have a permit!” He says holding out a yellow piece of paper.
“Oh, you see that Nodell? He has a permit.” The large one says taking the permit, examines it, and passes it on to his silent partner. They look it over and point out signatures as Tompkins grimaces gesturing to his camera men to keep rolling and his sound guy to keep recording.
Nodell takes the permit and burns a hole through it with his cigarette and Clevenger smiles, “Unfortunately, it seems this permit has expired sir, now if I were you I would follow the lead of the rest of these hounds and get out of here before you force my friend here to get physical.”
Tompkins looks over at Nodell and scoffs. This causes Clevenger to do a double take, but his smile doesn’t vanish.
“Did you just scoff? Oh now, I know you didn’t mean to do that just there. See he doesn’t like it when people do that, it hurts his feelings.”
Nodell nods his head and takes a puff of his cigarette.
“If I were you I would apologize and leave.”
Tompkins flips off the two agents, smiles, and turns his head to his crew. Before his crew can give thumbs up, Nodell casually pulls a gun out of his jacket and presses it again against Tompkins’ perfectly groomed temple.
“Oooh it seems he didn’t like that either. I’d really say sorry now...”
Tompkins shakes and finally mutters out, “S-s- Sorry man, I didn’t mean it.”
Clevenger smiles and pats Tompkins on the shoulders and pats the dust off of his jacket as Nodell takes the tape from the camera and stuffs it in his duffle bag. The camera crew packs up fast, get into their van and try to leave with the rest of the media crews in the path behind Nodell and Clevenger.
When they are out of hearing range Nodell takes off his black glasses and tosses his cigarette to the mud.
“Clev, next time can I be Clint?”
Clevenger smiles and nods as they make their way to the next news van, when suddenly the sky begins to darken, and the winds begin to pick up. The two men stand against the van, trying not to get caught in the quickly forming hurricane.
“Holy Mother of God! I thought this was only supposed to be a censorship job, not an Event…” Nodell latches onto the door of the van, his unkempt shirt being untucked and flapping around in the winds, and his last packet of cigarettes being dragged out of his pocket and vanishing towards the sphere. He’s lost for words.
Clevenger holds onto the roof of the vehicle and feels his sunglasses be whipped from his head, then they too vanish into the void. “Not just any Event, Bill… This is a big one…” He watches as his friend begins to be yanked backwards by an unseen force. Clevenger grabs him by the collar, preventing his partner from being sucked into the contained hurricane. “Hold on!” Bill falls to the floor, and Travis collapses as the wind suddenly subsides. The clouds above beginning to clear, and Metropolis comes into view. The two men scramble out of the mud. Bill kicks the van, his not so clean suit worsened by the wet mud now covering his front. He swears for a couple of minutes, then turns to Clevenger, who just stands there, staring at the Metropolis skyline.
Metropolis skyline.
The city has returned!
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:44:53 GMT -5
Work to repair the city begins immediately, as soon as the sphere vanishes. Lexcorp, in a very charitable move, offers their help to repair the damage created in the battle between the MCU and the Bizarro creatures. There is only one mandate spread across the repair crews… If you see anything foreign to the city, report it to your supervisor.
Easy enough.
Burchette does his job well he thinks. Does what has to be done. Easy enough. But there are some things that appear out of his realm of experience. For instance… Finding the body of an alien in a green uniform in the sewers. It’s an easy enough thing to deal with. Call his supervisor. But this… this is an alien. What would Lexcorp do with the body of an alien? The Daily Star though… They’d have a whole lot of things to do with it. And some pretty penny would arrive in Burchette’s pocket as a result. Easy enough.
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:45:39 GMT -5
WASHINGTON:
“We’ve got something.” Agent Herren looks at the screen. “A call to the Daily Star. From Metropolis… An alien body…”
His supervisor turns to him and nods slowly. “Well, Faraday told us he wanted everything reported to him… Make the call. Do we have any agents on site in Metropolis?”
Herren smiles slightly. “Nodell and what’s-his-name...”
“Nodell?” The supervisor begins to smile. “Oh this is great. Give him the job. It’ll be sweet. Nodell hates this baby-sitting stuff. He’ll hate dealing with a loon with alien body delusions even more…”
“Ok, call’s been made… We’ve got another one.” Herren scrolls down the screen. “Star City. Someone found a space ship in their back garden… Think’s their wife is having an affair with ET…”
“Who’s on site?”
“Chase…”
“She turned me down when I asked her out on a date at the Christmas party! Give her the job!”
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Post by Admin on Apr 18, 2006 21:46:06 GMT -5
METROPOLIS:
Two men stand in a warehouse; one alien on an autopsy table, and pieces of brain in jars surrounding the corpse.
“You persuaded him easy enough to forget about what he saw, didn’t you?”
Nodell takes a puff on his cigarette and smiles. “I’m very charming.”
“You threatened him and his family with death, didn’t you?”
Nodell taps the ash from the end of the cigarette and feels his smile widen. “Ain’t saying nothing.”
Clevenger arches his eyebrow and changes the subject. “Whatever. What do you think then, Bill?” he smiles, and looks over the body.
“I dunno Clev. It’s all Greek to me.” Nodell picks up the stump of the alien and shrugs his shoulders. “He might have painted the finger nails of his right hand, but I can’t tell because he’s got no hand…” He points to the bloody stump on the blue skinned aliens arm, and shakes his head. “How’d we get this assignment anyway? Babysitting an alien corpse… Jeez…”
The smaller man, Bill Nodell, still wears his old haggard suit, his finger tips permanently stained brown with constant smoking of cigarettes. He shudders as a chill enters the large room, and the metal doors slide open with a creak.
“Sir.” The two nod at the silver haired man who enters the room. He walks over to the autopsy table, shaking his head.
“Another one… Good lord…” King Faraday picks up the stump that is left of Jar Kell’s hand and looks at it. “Where’s the damn hand?”
Travis looks at himself and then at his boss. “Don’t look at me… I’m just here to… I don’t actually know WHY I’m here…” He shrugs, looking over to Nodell. “Why?”
“You’re my partner, that’s why” Nodell responds sarcastically before turning back to Faraday. “We were at the cordon around the city when the dome vanished, so we were the first DEO agents on the scene, we gave you the call.” He motions to Faraday. “And he we are.” Nodell flicks his cigarette away and wipes his brow. “Duh Dum.”
Clevenger nods slowly, agreeing. “Yeah. Right. Anything else, sir?”
“Autopsy crews are on the way from Washington. Should be able to do their thing and then take the corpse into storage. I need to get back to Sullivan at Edwards. Nodell, you write it up… Clevenger, you wanted to talk?”
Travis looks up, his eyes wide.
“Yes, yes, I got your memo.” Faraday responds to Clevenger’s look, “Let’s talk. Now.”
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