New Gods #2

“I…”

“Don’t like this, I know, dear.” Scott Free gave his lover Barda a wan smile. “I don’t like it either. But if this is connected to what those agents told me, then we’re all in danger.”

“Those agents are both contemptuous fools.”

“You know I agree, but this is more important than that.”

“You… do know we’re sitting right here, yeah?” Agent Bill Nodel asked. In response, Barda gave him a glare so withering that he actually gulped and lowered his head. The two New Gods were sitting in the back of an armored van, one of a small convoy. They had left Iowa in two unmarked Department of Extranormal Operations Choppers and, 1400 or so miles later, set down seemingly in the desert, where the vans- also unmarked- had been waiting for them. Needless to say, when it was two Gods, several armed soldiers and two of the most irritating men on Earth crammed into first a helicopter and then a van, things were never going to end well. If anything, Scott Free thought, the biggest “miracle” here was that apart from one of the soldiers who was currently unconscious after he made a remark about Barda’s headdress, the DEO forces were still mostly intact.

“My knowledge of Earth geography isn’t good but this… this looks like the middle of nowhere,” he commented, glancing out the window.

“You were holding out in Iowa,” Agent Clevenger responded. “You don’t get the right to talk.”

“Where is it we’re going in any case?” asked Barda yet again. The agents had learned some time ago it was not wise to point out her redundancy- as Scot could have warned them, it was best to do what Barda wanted.

“Hasn’t changed, lady. One of a few… less well known locations of the DEO.”

“This is a secret base?” Scott raised his eyebrows. “If you’re planning a trap, I warn you officers, the name…”

“…isn’t for nothing, we know,” finished Nodel. “It’s not a trap.”

Scott nodded absently, and narrowed his eyes as he stared out the window of the van again, looking for any sign of location beyond the endless rolling desert. But he did not see it first- no, instead he heard it, even over the hum of the engine and the rolling wheels.

“What… what is that noise?” he asked with a frown.

“Oh God…” breathed Agent Clevenger.

“Now entering your favorite part of the trip, Clev,” Nodel commented. He turned back to Barda and Scott. “You might want to hunker down. This area’s pretty wild.”



The great gates housing the entrance to the Armagetto Prison lay in ruins, crumpled steel and smoldering rubble where they had once been, broken by the corpses of fallen guards. As he surveyed the chaotic scene with some of the chosen elite of Exodus, Highfather Orion frowned deeply beneath his war-helmet.

“Vunderbar,” he pronounced at once. “He and that worm Desaad playing again- it has to be.”

“We won’t let them get away with it this time,” Himon pronounced- the old God was looking unusually angry, and Orion was reminded of the years he had spent cut off from all aid leading the Hunger Dogs. To finally defeat their arch-foe… and yet still find themselves at war… must have been bitterly disappointing for him.“Such a flagrant attack on Armagetto? It can’t be tolerated.”

“We need to move quickly,” urged Highmother Bekka from Orion’s side- as wise as her father Himon and as fierce as her husband. “If they break out Steppenwolf and Kanto, we’ll have havoc on our hands. We cannot led the admiral or the assassin escape- not to mention the others we have locked away.”

Not for the first time, Orion reflected on whether or not they should have moved the prisons as they had. The old prisons were far more secure, to be certain- but on the other hand, they were also the dark dungeons where Scott and so many others had been brutalized. No, their decision had been for the best- those prisons were sealed now, a memory of twisted evil.

“You’re right,” he said to Bekka. “Himon, I want you to hold back. Make sure nothing leaves the prison- and watch for another attack. Your number one priority must be the safety of the children- make sure this isn’t a diversionary strike. Bekka, Lightray, Fastbak, Magnar, Lonar- you’re with me. We go in, we finish this quickly.”

“Highfather, I must protest,” Magnar responded- the voice of Supertown’s protector was loud and deep, his brow creased in worry. “We have many more Gods, we should be flooding the prison with numbers…”

“Numbers are useless here,” Lightray responded swiftly. “These are no mere parademons- look…” He pointed to the nearest body. There were deep scratches and slashes all over it, as though savaged by some rabid dog… and most tellingly of all, there were red coiled marks on the poor God’s neck, signaling that he had been choked to death by a cord… or a whip.

“The Furies…” hissed Lonar as he snapped his golden-winged helmet into place. Even for the reclusive New God who spent his time hunting in the wilds and came rarely to Armagetto, the names of the Furies were all too familiar, and blasted.

“We’ll split into two groups- Lightray, you, Magnar and Lonar will find Steppenwolf’s cell and ensure they don’t free him. Fastbak, Bekka and I will defend Kanto’s.” He saw Himon about to object and raised a hand authoritatively. “We don’t need any more Gods, Himon. Besides…” He pulled his helmet on and headed for the entrance, eyes hardening as they passed over the dismembered remains of the guards. “…they’d just get in my way.”



Barda scowled in pain as the screeching sounds continued, but she steadfastly shook her head as Scott held out the earplugs the others were all wearing in a plea.

“I will not give in to this assault on the senses!” she roared over the deafening racket.

“Don’t think she’s going to budge,” Nodel offered helpfully, though his advice could not be heard over the roar from outside.

“What in the name of the Firepits is this they attack our ears with anyway?” she bellowed again- her lungs at least carried her voice clearly.

“Me, I say it’s rubbish.” Shouted back Nodel. “These guys would call it ‘music’.”

“What’s going on out there anyway?” Scott shouted back- they couldn’t hear him of course, but they got the gist as he gestured to the windows, which had been blackened as they approached this area. Clev gestured with his thumb at the button that would untint them, mouthing “Be My Guest”. Scott took a deep breath… and depressed the button, looking outside.

The convoy was passing down a road through what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a small town- but it was not like any other town Scott had seen on Earth. Every building seemed to blare with light and the ear-shattering din that was assailing them. Most of them had open windows and doors, with the noise pouring out- inside, more flashing lights could be seen. Now that he was concentrating, he could also hear the sounds of people- shouting, talking, milling, laughing, even singing. And the people themselves- he could see some walking in the streets around him- many of them staggering out of the way of the cars, almost all lurching awkwardly as though not fully in control of their senses- but, he had to admit, they did all look extremely happy. And scantily clad, at that, the females in particular- Scott had to wonder if it was a particularly warm night for them to be wearing so little. The other striking thing was how young they all were- everyone he could see was a human youth. He was no expert on age, but he’d place the oldest of them in their early twenties at most. Their progress was slow as they seemed to have to avoid hitting youths who showed no urgency in getting out of their way, but Scott continued to stare, fascinated by this strange place, as they drove on. At last, after over ten minutes, they had left the epicenter behind and could make themselves heard again.

“Where… where is this place?” he turned to ask the DEO agents.

“…This world’s version of the torture chambers of Armagetto…” murmured Barda- wisely, Clev and Nodel ignored her.

“It’s nicknamed Mini-Vegas,” Nodel replied. “Course the real Vegas is a few miles to the south east…”

“As well you know,” supplied Clev.

“…Vegas?” Barda asked with a frown.

“Big city famed for the er…. Gambling, alcohol and… um.. the sex, I guess,” Nodel replied awkwardly.

“As well you know,” supplied Clev.

“One time, Clev. It was one time.”

“We go there to investigate the woman for possible contact with metahuman terrorists, I find you in a hotel room…”

“I was scoping out the scene…”

“You were scoping out something alright…”

“…Agents?” Scott cleared his throat. “You were saying…”

“Right,” Nodel nodded. “The point is… this is basically an area set up by the kids. It’s like a smaller version of Vegas, where there are even less rules, where there’s no taboo, where they can live every day like a party. Word is, older folk who come here are shunned- or worse. The government was pretty concerned for a while but…” he shrugged. “They’re technically legal, they pay their taxes and the sight of kids being tear-gassed isn’t the best one on the air waves.”

“So why station your base near it anyway?” asked Barda, frowning. “It does not seem to make a great deal of tactical sense.”

“Truth is, it’s just a coincidence,” shrugged Clev. “We were here first. But it’s an advantage, really- makes it even less likely anyone’ll bother looking.”

“Why is that an advantage?” Scott asked at once. But by way of response, Clev and Nodel just smiled.



Darkness ruled in the depths of the Armagetto Prisons- all the power had been cut, which was no surprise to the reconnoitering Gods. Lightray could solve that problem for his party, but Orion, Bekka and Fastbak had to proceed alone towards the cell of Kanto, the infamous assassin of Apokolips. Despite the absence of light, all three of them had one hand on their Mother Boxes, allowing sight beyond that of the eyes to guide them through the twisted corridors. Every so often, they passed over the ruins of doors or the bodies of more guards, but they knew they were coming closer. At last, Orion paused and his Mother Box gave a silent message to the others to do the same.

“The cell is not far,” he breathed, as quietly as he could while still being heard. “There is every chance they have already freed the assassin, and we do not know whether all or some of the Furies came this way. Be prepared for anything.” As the Mother Boxes hummed quietly in assent, the three stepped forwards, straining their ears for anything.

“I’ll scout ahead…” Fastbak whistled cheerily without warning, and before the others could say a word, he had dashed forwards silently. Orion restrained himself from cursing- the younger God was impetuous and could ruin everything if he made even a single sound. Still, there was nothing that could be done, and as a hunter and scout, Fastbak’s skills were beyond compare. Which, he reflected, was the only reason the young God was not still at school right now. In times of war, desperation overrode all else.

There was a faint crack from ahead, and Orion was alert at once. Unwilling to risk a voice in the darkness, he sent a message via Mother Box- Fastbak? For several seconds, he waited for a response. Then it came- and threw him back, as with a hideous blood-curdling cry, Fastbak’s Mother Box screamed in agony.

“Bekka!” he snapped. “We….” But before he could say another word, something was upon him, screeching rabidly, tearing and biting at him. With a grunt of pain, he fell back, trying to grapple with it, but his rabid attacker was too fast, too unpredictable. His helmet was knocked from his head and rolled away, and they began to slash at his head. Grimacing, he gave a strong kick with both feet, dislodging his attacker and sending her away. To one side, he could hear Bekka give a shout and hear strange, soft noises of impact which he recognized almost at once- his wife was in hand to hand combat That means Gilotina, he reflected. And Harriet was the one who attacked…

There came another high-pitched shout, but this time he was ready, and threw out his fist in the direction of the sound. Somehow though, the Fury saw it even in the dark and avoided it, because she was throwing herself at him again. Bowing his head to defend his face from the slash of her talons, he threw seemingly wild punches, co-ordinating them to try and force her into a defensive pattern, to throw her off, but Harriet somehow avoided them all. They must be able to see in this darkness… he realized suddenly, but then he was distracted as she landed her first direct hit, a long nail piercing his side. With a grunt of pain, he brought his elbow around hard and was rewarded with a cry and a crack, but as soon as the moment came, it was gone, and she had faded back into the shadows again. She’s fast… VERY fast… he reflected, stationing himself in battle position, desperately trying to see into the darkness around him. But there’s only two of them- a distraction?

He tried to move but suddenly felt something come swiftly towards him- instinctively, he turned to strike but a BEEEEEEEEEP of objection from his Mother Box told him it had to be Bekka, so he broke off. She had been thrown backwards, and he could hear the mocking sound of Gilotina’s laughter. Silently, like a deadly jungle beast, he threw himself towards the sound and felt his fists meet flesh- with a startled cry, Gilotina fell and he began pounding her, trying to knock her out. The youngest of the Female Furies did not have the raw tenacity or lethality of Mad Harriet, but she was almost without match in weaponless combat, as many a God had discovered to their peril. He had to take her out before….

…A single chop to the back of his neck sent him arching back in pain, and then another dug straight into his stomach, causing him to double over. It was more than enough for her to roll aside so that he no longer pinned her, and for her to vanish back into the blackness again- from behind him, he heard Bekka gave a snarl which doubtless indicated she had been wounded, and he heard an inane war cry from Harriet. They were getting nowhere- he could only hope the others were faring better.



“Pathetic little toy,” Lashina mocked, cartwheeling out of the way of Lightray’s energy burst. “You really think you can defeat us in an even combat?” The Young God did not reply, expression uncustomary grave as he sought an opening, circling his foe. The Furies’ darkness advantage had been lost- the moment their ambush had been sprung, he had opened himself up fully, easily illuminating the entire cavern with his inner light. They were not far from Steppenwolf’s cell, but the battle was not going well.

To his right, a battle of sheer force was underway as Magnar, the strongest of the Gods, wrestled with Stompa, the strongest among the Fury ranks. With a roar, Magnar grabbed his foe by the waist and swung her to smash through the nearest rock wall. As he charged to strike another blow, Stompa reached out, barely hurt, to pick up the nearest piece of shattered masonry and throw it at him. In the second it took Magnar to dodge, she was able to regain her footing and brace for his charge so that their shoulders crashed together and the room shook with the sheer force of impact.

Lightray allowed his attention to be diverted by that battle for a single instant, and it was all Lashina needed. She pounced, her whip snaking forwards to curl around Lightray’s ankle. He tried to turn in time, but with a single jerk she threw him to the ground.

“Lying at my feet…” Lashina hissed with a smirk. “Just the way I want you.” The whip slashed down again and Lightray tried to throw a desperate energy burst to block it, but he mis-judged her trajectory and she avoided it with ease, the cord instead cracking against his face, leaving a deep red scar. Refusing to show pain, he rolled aside, trying to jump up, but Lashina kicked his body violently and brought down the whip again. This time, he did not try to take it out but reached out with a hand to snatch it. Pain seared through him as it slashed a colossal cut into his outstretched hand, but gritting his teeth, he ignored it and clenched, pulling violently. With a slight hiss of dismay, Lashina fell forwards on top of him, and at once, he punched her directly in the face- this was no time for being a gentlegod.

Behind where the two combatants battled, Lonar and Bernadeth circled each other warily. Every so often, one would lunge forwards and a brief struggle would ensue, but always they each fell back, evenly matched. The God of Genesis was generally removed from his fellows, preferring solitude and exploration to working with the other Gods, but he had come for Orion’s Conclave and was notorious in battle. Bernadeth, the sister of Desaad, was no stranger to combat herself- and these factors allowed each of them to hold their own.

Lonar leapt forwards again, grappling with Bernadeth, but she matched him in speed, if not in strength, and moved to one side, aiming a blow low at his gut. He blocked it swiftly and struck out with a foot- a blow which struck home at last, causing her to fall. Triumphantly, he tried to bring both hands down on her in a single colossal blow, but she rolled aside. A smirk of triumph on her face, she slid a dagger from her sleeve and in a single quick jerk, implanted it in Lonar’s thigh. He gave a hiss of pain, but reaching down, drew it out and tossed it aside.

“You’ll have to do better than that, witch.”

“I already have, fool.” She responded deftly, scrambling backwards as he moved towards her. He seemed about to respond when he instead froze and looked down at his leg. He began trembling, eyes widening, and then he looked up.

“What… what have you…?” He looked back in horror and then gave a shout of pain and clutched his leg, falling in agony. Bernadeth slowly climbed to her feet, a smile of triumph etched into her face. The dagger was known as a Fahren Knife, and when someone was stabbed in it, they burned from the inside out. Without any hurry, languishing in her foe’s pain, she crossed to pluck the dagger from the ground and moved towards Lonar, twirling the cursed blade in her hands. The first strike, in the leg, would not prove lethal… but another, in the heart… now that would be something to see. She tensed to strike the fatal blow as her opponent let out another cry of pain, oblivious to the world, and then….

Magnar flew through the air to crash into her, sending her flying backwards against the wall, where she collapsed, unconscious. Without even noticing her existence, the burly God picked himself up again and ran at Stompa like an angry bull, lowing his head for the charge. In response, she gave a huge stomp of her foot, causing the entire room to tremble and sending a crack slashing through the Earth away from the point of impact and towards her golden-clad foe. Undeterred, he rolled to one side. As Stompa came at him, he seized the fallen form of Bernadeth and threw it bodily at her.

“Bernie!” she shouted, reaching up to catch her fellow Fury, seemingly forgetting about the battle. As she did, Magnar charged her full-on, sending his fists crashing once, twice, three times into her gut, and then bringing his elbow down on her head for good measure. Swaying, the large Fury first dropped Bernadeth and then, after a dazed attempt at a half-step forwards, collapsed onto the ground herself, stone cold.



The Gods and DEO agents alike lapsed into silence as their vehicle continued to drive, soon leaving the glittering mini-city behind, and even the music slowly died out. It was then that Scott glanced idly out the window and noticed they appeared to be driving straight towards the cliff-face of a sheer rocky bluff.

“Officers…” he began, half standing, but Clev waved a hand nonchalantly. “Hang on, there.”

“Man, I don’t blame him,” Nodel grumbled. “I hate this part.”

“We sure as hell smelt that the first time we made this trip.

“That is twice- twice you have sworn now in less than a day since saying you would not.”
But Scott tuned out whatever the retort was as the vehicle approached the cliff ever faster- they appeared to be gaining speed now. Barda was gripping his shoulder, her iron clad grasp growing tighter by the second so that he literally felt his shoulder was about to break, but he was too intent on calculating angles to ask her to remove her hand before she removed his shoulder. He was an escape artist by trade, it would not be easy to slip himself and Barda out before the inevitable crash, but he felt he could…

“Scott,” Barda told him icily. “Stop trying to work it out, we’re staying in the van.”

“But Barda, honey, if they’re lying and this is a trap…”

“Then they’ll be surprised to learn just how poor a record cliffs have against my shoulder,” Barda pointed out, eyebrows raised. After a moment, Scott relented, sitting back in his chair- though he was still uncertain. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake as the cliff loomed closer…. And closer… it was mere meters away now, less- he winced, closing his eyes instinctively…

…and then they effortlessly passed through the holographic cliff in an instant. Realizing that he was not in fact dead, his eyes snapped open and he stared out the window- and even for a God, he felt they were about to burst out of their sockets at what he saw outside.

They had emerged on a high rocky outcrop of some vast underground cavern which seemed to stretch on and on as far as even Scott’s enhanced eyes could see, in all directions. Directly ahead of them was a vast underground river- it had to be half a kilometer wide!- flowing around a huge central island ringed by cliffs. On the river, there was a massive US Naval Battleship, bigger than any other Scott had seen. It appeared to be patrolling the river, and he could just about make out the ship’s name- the U.S.S. Judgement- on it’s prow. But that was merely the start.

On the island which dominated the cave, there was a massive, sprawling complex unlike any other Earthly building Scott had seen. A huge domed roof covered the center, but there were dozens of other outcroppings and buildings, all clustered on the same bluff of rock. A large sphere floated above the complex, orbited by a dozen smaller ones, and a dozen or so strange aircraft buzzed through the air above it all. The scale and spectacle of it all made it astonishing that the entire thing had been kept secret. The only connection from their bluff to the main complex was via a fairly narrow strip of rock wide enough for only two vehicles at a time which stretched down to a narrow port by the river- he assumed the Judgement was designed to carry newcomers to the island itself. All in all, he felt his jaw drop as he surveyed it- this was truly built by Earthling hands?

“Welcome,” Nodel said proudly. “To The Project.”



Orion drove one fist into Mad Harriet’s head and then ducked onto the ground to avoid a chop from Gilotina to his side. While on the ground, he gave a vicious kick in the general direction of Harriet, but the lithe Fury avoided it and gave a return slash with her claws which missed his face by mere inches. To one side, he heard Gilotina shout in pain- clearly Bekka was far from out of the battle, but he concentrated on his own situation, rolling to one side and standing. Enough was enough- he tired of this game. He would not use the Astro-Force, for the situation did not require it yet, but there were other things to be done.

“Bekka,” he said. “I think we…” Then he felt something slash past his face more rapidly than even the fastest assault from Harriet, followed by a brief cry and then the sound of something hitting the ground.

“Well,” he heard Bekka murmur. “Fastbak’s back.” With a smile, Orion reached out to try and find whoever was left… but even as he did, there was a loud whirring sound from across the entire complex, and then the power returned. After so long in the dark, the sudden stream of light flooding from the walls seemed almost blinding, and Orion had to raise a hand to protect his eyes for a moment. After a few seconds, he lowered it, ignoring the pain of his screaming retinas, and looked around for their foes, but there was no sign of either of them, only a heavily panting Bekka and Fastbak with a deep scar on his face and blood spilling down it.

“Are you alright?” he asked the younger God, shoving aside instincts screaming to find the fleeing Furies.

“I… they just took me by surprise, that’s…” Fastbak responded, eyes darting around wildly, distress on his face. Orion nearly wanted to shout at him- didn’t he realize their enemies were getting away? He was the fastest of all of them, why wasn’t he… wasn’t he…. Then Orion suddenly noticed something. Or rather, the absence of something. “…Mother Box…” mumbled Fastbak, eyes watering. “I… Highfather, it’s not…” he took a deep breath. “Sh…She’s dead.”



“Steppenwolf remains secure,” Lightray nodded, hand unconsciously brushing against the scars left by Lashina’s attack. The Gods who had participated in the battle had gathered with Himon in the aftermath- like Orion, Lightray and Magnar had found their adversaries gone once their eyes had adjusted to the return of power. “How’s Fastbak?”

“As can be expected,” Bekka frowned. “He’s taking the loss of his Mother Box hard.”

“Yes. It is always the young who are hit hardest- it can’t be easy to lose something he’s had since he was a boy. We can get him a new one of course,” Himon nodded, face drawn in worry. “It won’t be the same but…” He sighed, looking away for a moment. “You should have let me go down there with you. I…”

“You did your part, Lord Himon,” grunted Magnar. “You were able to restore power- without that, we might have taken greater casualties.”

“It would unfortunately appear…” Orion noted, speaking for the first time in the conference. “That we were mistaken. Kanto and Steppenwolf were never the target.” As he spoke, only Bekka noticed that his eyes were smoldering in anger and his fists were tightly clenched. Orion had learnt to control his legendary temper ever since assuming the role of Highfather, but she feared this new loss had taken him to breaking point. “It was just a trap to lure some of us down to face them in a dark environment.” Himon nodded, seemingly unaware of Orion’s barely restrained fury.

“They knew we would only send a few Gods down, even if they were our best fighters. We should have been ready for them to Boom Tube back to wherever they came from after making their escape.” They all turned to look at Orion expectantly. “What is our next move, Highfather?” Himon finished softly. As Orion seemed to deliberate, Bekka slipped her hand through his under the table to give it a reassuring squeeze, but he shook her off.

“We’ll need to find them, of course…” he breathed. “Virman Vunderbar and Desaad have just become my top priority. We cannot let them loose for much longer, not after….” He took a breath. “…not after what they did today.” He thought for a moment- all of them knew that his regular pilgrimage to the Source Wall was tomorrow, there to spend the day in prayer to the Source, reflecting on the wisdom of Highfather Izaya. “Exodus is a new beginning- it’s our world, not theirs.As soon as I get back,” he told them gravely. “We’re taking them down. Once and for all.”



Screams echoed through the cave fastness of the objects of Orion’s wrath, and Vunderbar reveled in them as he stood over his makeshift map table, enjoying the familiar sounds. Just like the old days, he thought mournfully. A war for the planning and the hideous screams of some unfortunate wretch as his background music. The Furies were out on the prowl after their triumphant return, continuing to ensure they were not tracked back here. He thought again of the news from Supertown and could not help but sneer- that whelp thought he- he- could simply rename Apokolips upon his will? No matter what name those False New Gods gave it, to Vunderbar, to the universe, it would always be Apokolips, the throneworld of the Greatest God of them all.

“Bedlam is in position,” he noted aloud. “Und vith Orion’s absence, ve are primed for the strike on that sanctimonious fool, Himon.” All in all, he thought to himself, with the success of that day’s mission and the good news from his co-conspirator elsewhere, all was going perfectly. Now, there was just one last detail.

Striding out of the 'War Room', as he had optimistically christened the run-down cavern, he made his way towards another area of the cave labyrinth, and as he came, the screams sounded ever louder. At last, he came to the place he sought.

“Vell?” he snapped as soon as he saw the hunched, purple-cloaked form of Desaad over the operating table. “Have ve got the information ve seek?”

“Hmmm?” Desaad responded, not looking up from his work, mouth half open, eyes gleaming with joy and pleasure. “Oh, yes, that. A proud and strong one, this ‘Lonar’ my sister and her companions brought back- but even he finally broke an hour ago.” It had, Vunderbar been reflected, been at least fourteen hours since the… operation… had begun.

“Vell?” he demanded indignantly. “Vhy are you still torturing him?”

Desaad gave a dry chuckle, still not looking away from his handiwork. “To see how much more he can take,” he hissed. “Because of the sweet, sweet sound of the blood dripping to the ground, that beautiful gleaming red as skin is separated, the smell- so cloying, so very pure… and the screams- the screams, Vunderbar, in all their intoxicating glory.” The cloaked God’s eyes were half closed as he inhaled in pleasure. As he spoke, he twisted a dial, another silver spiked instrument descended onto the table and the screams became ever louder, near deafening. Vunderbar had no problem with his ally’s hobbies but he did not like when they distracted from their purpose.

“Und?” he snapped, cutting the fool off. “Ve have the location?”

“We do,” confirmed Desaad, his smile widening. “He’s as good as ours.” Vunderbar let out a breath and smiled himself, stroking his chin as he did.

“Ve can act on it after ve take care of Himon tomorrow. Vith his power, ve shall finally have the means vith vhich to vreak Lord Darkseid’s ultimate revenge.”



If you wish to comment on this issue, please CLICK HERE to visit the letters page!