#63: Don't Turn Your Back (Part 5 of 5)

Previously, in JUSTICE LEAGUE…

It was a time of celebration! The World’s Greatest Superheroes thought that the MARTIAN MANHUTER had returned, but they found out too late he was in fact the hero’s twisted twin brother, the villainous MA’ALEF’AK-- on Earth with a twisted agenda that led to the capture of every villain on Earth with pyromanic leanings!

BLUE BEETLE was the only member of the team not mind-controlled by the villain, thanks to a previous bout of brainwashing he hadn’t been aware of, engineered by BOOSTER GOLD and RIP HUTER!

Unfortunately, BEETLE fell when MA’ALEF’AK revealed his true self and unleashed a psychic onslaught that left the hero in a vegetative state, his entire psyche rendered into mental rubble. His last act was to engineer the release of the Justice League from the mental thrall of the villain, before falling into a deep coma.

Controlling the Justice League was just a means to an end for MA’ALEF’AK. His true plan involved removing the pyromania from the villains he’d tricked the team into capturing and absorbing it into himself-- resulting in his transformation into his genetic ancestor, the Burning Martian known as PYYRUS--!

With the Justice League defeated, the Burning Martian journeyed to Midway City, promising to bring about an age of chaos unlike any the world had ever seen! Meanwhile BOOSTER managed to bring BEETLE out of his coma, seemingly restored after the mental devastation he’d experienced!

Finally, NIGHTWING-- covering for BATMAN when the latter was psychically influenced by MA’ALEF’AK to keep him off the scent of the Martian’s schemes-- discovered that a local Gotham detective held a secret that could turn the tide…

Unbeknownst to anybody, J’ONN J’ONZZ had returned to Earth, but was suffering from amnesia after being caught up in the psychic web that MA’ALEF’AK had established to convince everyone he was the MARTIAN MANHUTER!

With his memories returning, the true MARTIAN MANHUTER is back, and with him there is finally hope of ending the threat of the Burning Martian known as PYYRUS before its inferno spreads across the globe-- and then the entire universe!

With all this in mind, please join us now for the continuing adventures of the JUSTICE LEAGUE--

Midway City, stomping grounds of Blue Beetle, burned unlike any city in the history of the United States of America had burned before. You wouldn’t have known by looking at it. The buildings were left pristine, the air was still and there was no smoke… the only sign that something was awry, was the fact that her people screamed.

Pyyrus, the burning thing Ma’alef’ak had devolved into because of self-inflicted psychic tampering, floated above the bustling city.

Its razor-sharp talons plucked at the invisible strings that ran through the brains of every single living being in existence. It made mothers see their children as warped imposters. It made siblings think they were being poisoned by members of their own family. It made bleach taste so delicious on the way down. It removed the survival instinct that kept people from walking out into traffic.

Instead of hearing the voice in the back of their head that said, ‘Don’t do that!’, they were met by soft, pleasing encouragements that made every bad thing in their head sound so valid.

This was a psychic inferno. This was an unearthly blaze.

And all the while, as this city suffered, Pyyrus laughed and laughed and laughed….



“Teddy… thank God you’re back…” said Booster Gold.

He stood behind the newly risen Ted Kord as the dishevelled hero typed furiously onto the keyboard in front of him. Along with the bottoms and boots of his costume, Kord wore a thin bedsheet over his bare shoulders as he worked, Alfred Pennyworth having bandaged the contusions and claw marks he’d acquired after his fracas with Ma’alef’ak.

Ted had barely cast a glance Booster’s way since he’d woken up, and all the latter wanted to do was to hug the man he considered to be his brother, but there was a coldness between the two, and Michael knew why-- he was one of the reasons Ted was in the shape he was, and Michael wondered how much he remembered of that fact--

“Not now,” hissed Blue Beetle.

--Maybe he remembered all of it then, thought Booster.

Alfred returned to the huddle of heroes. “I’m unable to raise Batman and the rest of the Justice League. I fear that Ma’alef’ak may have returned…”

Nightwing and the true Martian Manhunter materialised into the Cave after stepping through the glistening orange portal that could link the Justice League to any point on Earth. In his deep, warm voice, J’onn intoned, “I suspect it is far worse than that…”

“Good to have you back on board, Manhunter,” said Beetle.

Nightwing approached the others. Angela Spica was in the workshop, tinkering with armaments confiscated from some of Arkham’s worst patients, hoping to develop armaments capable of taking down a Martian, and she smiled when he nodded in her direction.

The Martian Manhunter was unsteady on his feet, and he held his cape close around his body as he joined the current collection of heroes in the Cave beneath Wayne Manor.

“You are a welcome sight, Master J’onzz; but you mention something far worse…?” asked Alfred.

“Every Martian in existence sends ripples out into the shared psychic space all living beings occupy. On Mars, before… before my brother killed our entire race… it was like swimming in an ocean. I would recognise the impact my brother has on the psychic space from a thousand miles away, but it’s changed now… I can feel the public consciousness burning. He’s transformed… I fear he’s unlocked the secret part of himself that every Martian holds in their minds.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Beetle.

J’onn shook his head, the knowledge he held devastating him. The dirty secret of the Martian race… “…I think he’s devolved into the form of one of his ancestors. Ma’alef’ak has become one of the Burning.”


All they could do was blink. Blink and think. Blink and think about everything that had led them to this point.

The Justice League had been body-locked, trapped inside themselves while the thing known as Pyyrus was roaming the world, doing whatever Burning Martians did when let loose. There was psychic leakage from its head as it exited Laputa, something about Midway City, about procreation, about suffering.

Wonder Woman’s hand had fallen into Batman’s as the psychic assault had ravaged them. Their fingers still touched, just slightly, as they lay on the floor of Cargo Bay 12. Her head had turned away from him on impact, and she could see Green Lantern crumpled against the wall, holding something so tightly.

He held the Lasso of Truth.

Her thoughts shone golden. It had been stolen from her by Ma’alef’ak, after the Martian had stripped the inhibitions from Bruce and herself. They had spent hours together, in the Cave, experiencing one another like never before. When they were pulled out of that feverish state, the absence of the lasso ached at her, and now it was just out of her reach…

It trailed from John’s hand, past the rest of the team, and through the event horizon of the Erdel Gate that led to Mars. John’s eyes opened and hers met his. There was no charge left in his ring, or he might have been able to free them all from this state, but he still commanded a will capable of shaping miracles.

“Nnnnn,” growled John.

He strained. His body was screaming back at him, that he shouldn’t move, that he couldn’t move; the psychosomatic paralysis hurt as he fought against it. But he still had the lasso. He still held it tight. And if he could just find the strength in himself to make one move, one simple, upward motion--

Diana closed her eyes, and began to pray. The volume in her head went all the way up as she focused all her thoughts-- please let him do this. Please allow John Stewart to do what needs to be done. Please let him--

With all the strength left in his body, John lurched his arm up once, causing the lasso to whip upwards. He shifted the direction of its landing with a jittery flinch, and Diana felt the warmth of the lasso spread from her palm into the rest of her body.

What was the truth?

The truth was, she wasn’t paralysed. The truth was, she wasn’t trapped in her body; not if the first point held fast. Just because she’d been told one thing so convincingly, didn’t mean it was irrevocably the truth. If she believed that it wasn’t true, and the lasso-- bathed in the fires of Hestia-- revealed the truth of the situation, then that meant--

--Diana, Queen of Themyscira-- Avatar of Truth-- Champion of the Greek goddess Athena-- jolted up from where she lay.

The situation so clear to her now. Firstly, she went over to John and wrapped the lasso around his wrist, then she moved quickly, from one Justice Leaguer to the next, wrapping it around their bodies as she went. Then, with the team connected by the Lasso of Truth, she shared the truth with them--

And they were pulled from their body-locked state, finally in control of themselves after their devastating defeat at the hands of Pyyrus.

“Everyone okay?” asked the Guardian.

“Wh-where is he?” said Green Lantern. He pulled his portable power battery from the pocket dimension it was stored within, and began to charge his ring. Once it was at full power, he could go about fixing the damage the Martian had done to him back on Mars.

“I’m working on it,” said Cyborg.

Batman turned away from the others and accessed the communication channel connecting him to the Cave. “Bishop-1, we were taken off the board but we’re back. Any sign of whatever Ma’alef’ak has become?”

<Knight-1, we are re-tasking the satellites we have available, searching for-->

A voice interrupted the transmission. <He’s in Midway. He’s spiting me.>

“Beetle…?” started Batman.

<I woke up. We have a new asset on the board as well. The real Martian Manhunter is with us. Long story short, Ma’alef’ak has transformed into, effectively, a primordial form. They call it the Burning. I’m putting J’onn on now.>

The Justice League gathered round as Batman opened up the channel for them all to hear. J’onn’s voice filled their ears and they listened intently. It was good to truly have him back, even if his diabolical brother had done repeated numbers on them. <The Burning were our predecessors from millions of years ago. Before the greens and whites, before even the blues and other races that propagated on Mars. They were a sadistic and violent race that thrived on war and bred through suffering. We need to prevent this new form Ma’alef’ak has taken-->

“Pyyrus,” said Majestic, “its name is Pyyrus.”

<--Thank you, Majestros. We need to prevent Pyyrus from spreading his strain of evil and harvesting the fear it produces to create offspring.>

Mister Miracle looked over to Big Barda. “By the Highfather, we barely survived one encounter with one of these guys, and now we’re talking a family of them?”

<And the more of them that are born, the more devastation will be wrought across the globe. Earth will be consumed in their fire and then the stars themselves. They will never stop.>

Green Lantern, recharged and revitalised, touched the arc of the Erdel Gate. “He did something to the fire-themed villains we took down for him. Stole something from their heads. They’re still on Mars, along with the weird Martian-tech he used to do it.”

Kord’s voice took on an air of finality. <Science team to Mars then; J’onn too. The rest of you… you’re going to have to try and stop Pyyrus before he starts having kids.>

<I could do more in Midway--> started the Martian Manhunter.

Ted shut him down. <No. You’re barely able to stand. And if that thing throws fire at you, you’re goo. Whatever he built on Mars, that’s your wheelhouse.>

“When the time is right, you’ll know what to do, J’onn,” said Wonder Woman.

“I want Doctor Light on the ground in Midway; I have a plan,” said the Guardian.

Kimiyo didn’t know why Harper felt that way, but she nodded. “If you think that’s what’s best for the plan.”

<Let’s get to work, people,> said Kord.

The transmission ended and Cyborg looked over to the Atom. “Did Beetle sound different to you?”


How many people had died in the ten minutes since Pyyrus had arrived in the skies above the city? Dozens, perhaps. Dozens driven to suicide, or homicide, thanks to the psychic assault being waged invisibly upon their psyches. The monster relished it, felt itself beginning to blossom and grow, and if it pushed harder, drove itself into their brains and forced them to perform horrors they never considered themselves capable of, soon it would have a brood, a new family, the first pure-born Burning Martians this millennium had ever seen.

The air quality changed behind it. The atmosphere crackled with ionised power, and Pyyrus turned slowly, fully expecting to see-- yes, because they couldn’t help themselves--

Green Lantern hovered in front of the Burning Martian, arms crossed. On one side of the hero floated Big Barda, Mister Miracle and Wonder Woman, while on the other Hawkgirl and Hawkman hung motionless in the air thanks to the anti-gravity Nth metal harnesses they wore.

{I think you have no idea what’s coming next,} laughed Pyyrus.

The creature reached into the brains of the Justice Leaguers. Just as it had managed to disable them back on Laputa, just as it had been able to turn them against each other on Mars, it wanted to do something dastardly. It wondered what kind of horrors it could make the Green Lantern conjure with that miracle ring of his; it wondered who would die first, the New God husband or the New God wife, if it made them believe the other was their feared Darkseid. Majestic was easy to manipulate; Wonder Woman could be debased; Hawkman could tear out the throat of Hawkgirl with his teeth, or perhaps Hawkgirl could--

Pyyrus couldn’t see into their heads. All he could feel was a bright, warm light, something impossible to push past with its psychic powers. It couldn’t turn themselves against one another, and that was a damn shame, because all it wanted was to make these heroes suffer.

The attack began. Green Lantern enveloped the Martian in an emerald cocoon, squeezed tight, while Majestic began punching it in the face. A split second later, Pyyrus simply phased out from the trap and grabbed the Kheran by the face, then sent the hero toward the Hawks. They flapped out of the way and dove toward him, but the monster unleashed scorching Martian vision their way, causing them to arch off, but letting Wonder Woman bring up the rear, slamming twin fists into the back of his head.

Big Barda held her Mega-Rod high-- how did she keep getting new ones of those, thought Pyyrus-- then drove it down on the Martian’s temple, but it phased at the last moment, causing Barda’s momentum to take her off balance. The Martian slammed a foot down on the aero-discs she used to keep herself aloft and they sparked wildly, causing her to head to the ground.

{Are you communicating with your little nanite-link? Where are your quips? I’m becoming so much more than Ma’alef’ak ever was and all you can think to do is attack me? Keep this up and the world will be dead in hours, not days.}

Something inside Pyyrus’ distended thorax throbbed and bulged. It clutched at where it had felt the movement, then looked at Green Lantern as the hero dispassionately raised his ring once more, ready to double down on his attack.

{I’m having a baby, Green Lantern. I’m having a brood.}


Thankfully, when Blue Beetle led the team of the Atom, Cyborg and the Martian Manhunter back to Mars, the villains that had been kidnapped and psychically assaulted by by Ma’alef’ak were still unconscious, sprawled across the ground of the ruined cavern in various states. In the centre of the chamber was the immense, yawning device constructed from numerous arches that Ma’alef’ak had used to steal something from the villains’ brains, and it immediately caused the Martian Manhunter to float up to it, inspecting its intricacies.

“Do you recognise that thing, Manhunter?” asked Beetle.

He was wearing his costume again, as best patched together by Alfred, as well as a fire-resistant suit he’d borrowed from the Cave. The Atom was still wearing his, while Cyborg’s flesh components were still armoured by the reconfiguration of his robotic body. They were wearing what armour they could against a threat unlike any they’d faced before, and they weren’t sure it would work if they went against Pyyrus one-on-one.

“Very old Martian technology… but he’s done something to it… twisted it…” replied J’onn.

“Green Lantern uploaded the information to our heads before he left for Midway with the others,” said the Atom. “Ma’alef’ak called it a psychic resonator. He did something with… psychic spikes… that made their brains open books for him to take something from. I think he must have… brainwashed them?”

“Ma’alef’ak did something much worse than that. He stole something from their identities. He took what made them who they are.”

“What’s that then?” asked Cyborg.

Blue Beetle grimaced. It clicked. “…Their pyromania.”

Heatwave stirred and blinked sadly as the heroes congregated. The Atom was on him before he could move, and he adjusted his weight using his white dwarf star belt so that his foot kept the super-arsonist summarily pinned to the ground. “Don’t go anywhere, Rory.”

“What… what’s happened to me?” murmured Heatwave.

Beetle knelt in front of him and waved the Atom off. “Gimme a second. Heatwave, how do you feel?”

Heatwave clutched at his temple, where threads of dried blood ran down from holes on either side. “Man, I don’t even know. I feel… weird, maybe. Where’s… what happened?”

Beetle rummaged through the pouches in his utility belt and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it, a flame sparked up, and he held it in front of Mick. “How does this make you feel?”

Mick Rory, the villainous Rogue known as Heatwave, who had been setting fires and watching them burn for nearly three decades, dismissed the flame with a stern shake of his head. “Nothin’, why would-- oh-- oh-- what? What’s going on with me?”

Beetle stood suddenly. “Physiological response is completely out of whack. No pupil dilation, no shortening of breath. When an arsonist sees fire, they can’t help themselves. Even something as small as this,” he balanced the lighter in his palm then snatched his hand shut, pocketing it in one swift movement.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, please, what have… what did you do?”

“You’re rehabilitated,” said Beetle, horrified by the implication of Heatwave’s reactions.


Batman rushed through the apartment building as fast as he could, hoping to complete his task along with the others. Green Lantern had mapped the city into their heads, which was much more sterile and data-based upload than the psychic shenanigans inflicted upon them by Ma’alef’ak over the last few days. They knew where people were, and it was their job to get them clear of Pyyrus’ sphere of influence.

He stormed into an apartment and saw a woman holding a knife over the head of her husband, who was bound to a chair in the kitchen. She was sobbing, begging him to tell her where their children were; all the while her two daughters clung to her legs and screamed for her to stop hurting daddy.

Batman threw a batarang at the woman’s hand and it impacted the blade, causing it to fall onto the table tip first. He restrained the woman with both hands, then knocked her out with a spray from a device he kept in his belt. She slumped in his arms and he lay her on the floor.

“Are you girls all right?” he asked, looking down at the children who were exhausted from their tears. The eldest looked to be eight, the younger of the two five, and he smiled and they seemed to relax at the sight of this black-and-grey shape who had just saved their father from death at the hands of their mother.

“Why is mommy ignoring us?”

“Why does she wanna hurt daddy?”

“It’s not your mom’s fault. Let’s get you out of here and--”

Their father shrieked and lurched himself free from the electrical cords that had been used to tie him down, pulled the knife from the table and sent it careening down toward Batman’s head.

Before he could incapacitate him, the girls grabbed his arms and went for his throat-- he could pull himself free but he risked hurting the girls, but he was more concerned with them damaging their teeth on the reinforced sheath around his neck.

A heartbeat prior to the eventual stabbing he would experience to his face, a cylindrical shape smashed through the window and impacted the father at the temple, knocking him out.

A smaller dose of sedative knocked the girls out without complaint and then Batman finished off the spray with a treatment to the father. He looked out the window and saw Nightwing give him a wave, before patching into the comms.

<If you could pick up my escrima for me, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t have an infinite supply of them in my belt like you do batarangs.>

Batman grunted, then smashed the remains of the window out. Booster Gold was patrolling outside, projecting large, energy scoops for them to deposit Midway’s citizens inside. He kept to-ing-and-thro-ing to the outskirts of the city, at what Green Lantern had estimated to be a safe distance from the Burning Martian’s psychic influence. They’d clear the city as fast as they could, while Pyyrus was kept busy up above--


Cyborg was confused. “What do you mean, he’s ‘rehabilitated’?”

Beetle was pacing again, thinking through the situation as he examined the psychic resonator.

“The drive to light fires that made these guys quote-unquote ‘villains’ has been removed from their psyches and inserted into Ma’alef’ak to trigger his transformation into this… Pyyrus entity. That means… the transformation is in part psychosomatic… I need to speak to the Guardian.”

The Martian Manhunter understood. “My brother couldn’t overcome the psychic blocks in his head through force of will. He didn’t have it in him. So he had to steal it from these unfortunate souls. It’s an artificial devolution… his psyche has been… patched together…”

“That means we can tear that architecture down,” said Beetle.

“But how? The psychic resonator looks like it’s been shredded,” said Cyborg.

He had been walking laps of the chamber, collecting the villains and handcuffing them so they were in a pile near the event horizon of the Erdel Gate. There were dozens of them, all dazed, all confused, some still unconscious from the trauma of their experiences.

Meanwhile, J’onn continued to consider their position. “There’s an organic component to the device, that would link these minds in a circuit. Ma’alef’ak must have taken that back into himself when he finished his work.”

The Atom nodded, understanding the idea and riffing with the others. “He’s not going to go back in there willingly.”

J’onn agreed. “I could… I could replace the parts with myself. We would need to bring him back. But it would mean… we would have to replace the fragments to their original owners.”

Cyborg looked at the dozens of villains he’d wrangled. “There are so many people… and they’re… they’re cured right now, aren’t they? Isn’t there a way we could just keep the pyromania out of them? This is rehabilitation, in its own terrible way. Isn’t there--?”

Beetle placed a hand on Cyborg’s shoulder, nodding in agreement. “I agree. I’m beginning to think I know how to make this device operate. When Ma’alef’ak was in my head, I think he left behind some trace memories. With J’onn’s help, I think I could rewire it-- we could defeat the Burning Martian and we could keep these folks sane.”

“Where do we start?” asked the Atom.

Beetle began counting on his fingers. “Green Lantern said they used those psychic spikes to open the villains up? Collect as many as you can, Ray.”

“What about these guys?” asked Cyborg, gesturing to the villains.

Ted looked at the Martian Manhunter, then the gathered villains. “Release their cuffs.”

“Are you sure?” asked Cyborg.

Beetle nodded. With their bindings removed, the villains rubbed their wrists and paid more attention to the hero than he would have liked. All eyes on him, and he had a lot to say. “Listen to me, people. We’re going to bring a monster here. The same monster who strung you up. But with your help, we can defeat him. This feeling you have, right now? How you feel unlike anything before? That’s because he removed your pyromania and assorted mental illness from your heads. With your help, I can make sure you stay cured. We’ll speak to the courts, the doctors, we’ll explain that it’s all gone. It’s… it’s rehabilitation. Unlike anything the world can offer right now. It’s a second chance.”

“You… can keep it… from coming back?” said Firefly.

“Yes. Freedom from the compulsion. Freedom from the thing that drives you into committing these acts. With your help, we can do something amazing.”

“I never… never wanted this… so… I guess I’m in,” said Heatwave.

“Thank you,” said Beetle.

With Heatwave volunteering himself, the others did too. Some were strong-armed-- old habits from the others dying hard-- but by the end of it they all asked what was needed of them. Blue Beetle explained… and they got to work.


{It’s boring if you don’t quip or snipe,} said Pyyrus.

Without a word, Green Lantern sent a beam of light at the Burning Martian’s chest, but the creature simply opened up a gap where it would have struck, and allowed it to pass harmlessly through him. Hawkman dove in, tried to smash his mace against its skull, but it phased harmlessly through its head and Pyyrus shredded his wings. The silence was disconcerting, but it didn’t put the creature off. It continued to push and it continued to thrash its opponents.

{Come on, not even a rousing cry of defiance? A rallying call? An oath?}

Pyyrus’ eyes crackled and it sent a beam of hits swirling, scolding Martian vision directly into Green Lantern’s chest, splitting the human in half instantly. John Stewart’s torso above the sternum hung by a thread at the edge, spilling to the side while his bottom half continued to float in space. He didn’t bleed and he didn’t cry out. He still made no sound--

Pyyrus realised his mistake. {You’re phantoms. You’re not really here.}

Hidden below, Doctor Light managed to reconstitute the hard-light projection she’d made of Green Lantern. The Guardian kept encouraging her, the two of them working in tandem to coordinate the holographic versions of the Justice League she’d been able to conjure.

“He’s clued in on us,” said the Guardian.

Doctor Light shook her head. “I can’t… maintain this…”

“Dog pile. You’re doing great. Dog pile him and then we have to step in and up. Y’hear that folks?”

Across Midway City, the real Justice League checked in. They’d spent the length of the battle in the skies actually evacuating the place, getting as many citizens out as they possibly could. A hundred or so lives had been lost but they could prevent that spread by getting the rest of her citizens as far away from Pyyrus as possible, and they’d done the best they could with the time allowed.

The holographic projections of the Justice League all dove toward Pyyrus and upon impact they spread over it like a thick amber, encasing the creature in solid light. Super dense, the construct caused the Burning Martian to topple to the ground, where it landed with an almighty crash. The flames that kept it fighting were extinguished, but it wouldn’t take much to light them back up-- as it crawled from the wreckage, it reached out-- then realised something else that shocked it to the core--

Pyyrus realised its mistake-- the city was now empty. There was no suffering to draw from, but it was already giving birth, it was already feeling the strain of its brood push out from inside its thorax. The birthing was a horrible sight, it remembered how it had come into being originally, on Mars, before dying and coming back through the body of its ancestor. It was a horror-inducing sight, designed to spread even more fear, designed to create more suffering as those watching knew that the end was near.

{It’s time.}

The Guardian turned away from the sight and put a finger to its ear. “Beetle, it’s happening, are you two sure about this?”

<Trust us,> replied Beetle.

Pyyrus tore open its abdomen, ready for its brood to clamber out of it-- but instead of an inferno spreading out from its interior and burning Midway City to the ground, a handful of small, gnarled corpses fell out lazily onto the ground, stillborn Martians with zero flames emanating from their flesh. They were dead. They were nothing. And the horror Pyyrus experienced caused it to scream in sadness.

Majestic floated in front of the creature, at the bottom of the street. His arms were crossed and he simply stated, “You’re not real, Pyyrus. Ma’alef’ak couldn’t overcome his weakness to free you from his head, he had to steal the fire from those villains he had us kidnap to release you. Any hope you had of giving birth was wasted, because it’s all in your head. You’re nothing.”

Pyyrus covered the ground, from the crater it had created on impact to where Majestic floated, in a split second, screaming all the while. {No no no no I’ll kill you all!}

It tore at Majestros’ body, but the Kheran reeled back, and the trap was sprung. From above, Green Lantern descended, carrying the still-active Erdel Gate from Laputa-- he rammed the event horizon directly onto the spot where Pyyrus stood and it sent the Burning Martian directly where the team wanted him--


-- Pyyrus materialised in front of the Justice League on Mars, and shrieked. Before it could ravage the others, Big Barda and Wonder Woman emerged from the event horizon and slammed their fists into its back, sending it forward. The Atom vanished with the bundles of psychic spikes, to points unknown.

“Sixty seconds!” shouted Beetle.

Cyborg was helping the villains back into position on the psychic resonator, and once they were where they needed to be, the Martian Manhunter sat in position at the centre of the arches, interfacing his nervous system with those of the villains. When the connection was made, Cyborg surrounded the villains in protective shields utilising the white noise technology across his body, then he jumped down to join the others as they battled the Burning Martian.

Majestic wrestled Pyyrus to the ground, punching it repeatedly in the head, while Wonder Woman wrapped the lasso around its throat, hoping to force it to stay down. She gripped each end tight and kneeled back, causing the Burning Martian to spit and growl.

Cyborg levelled the cannon his arm could transform into at the creature’s skull and sent a catastrophic beam of sonic waves into its head, but before they could press their advantage, Pyyrus became immaterial and once again slipped through their attacks, then spun around at super-speed and dispatched them all a few seconds later.

Blue Beetle was at the edge of the resonator fiddling with a loose panel when Pyyrus set its eyes on him.

{The trace memories I hold of Ma’alef’ak’s actions to bring me back tell me you were a definite thorn in his side. He thought you were dead. A broken shell of a man. He didn’t get to finish the job, and here you stand. I guess I could finish the job for him…}

Pyyrus clicked its claws together and a small flame appeared above his talons.

“Yeah, if he couldn’t kill me, I don’t put much stock in your ability, you fiery bastard,” hissed Beetle.

Pyyrus unleashed a torrent of liquid fire at Blue Beetle, but before it could strike him, Booster Gold flung himself between the two forces, his forcefield causing the attack to disperse on either side of the psychic resonator. “Get away from him, you bitch--!”

As if on cue, a shape swirled around Pyyrus’ head as the Atom-- still wearing the fireproof costume he’d been sporting for the last few hours-- enlarged, holding on for dear life as his uniform began to blister and burn away.

He drove the psychic spikes they’d gathered into the monster’s skull and the Burning Martian shrieked, but it was disorientated from the attack, unsure of why it was in pain, unsure of how to combat it.

Ray continued his assault, knowing how pivotal his part of the plan was to its success-- they had to open the creature’s head up, making it an open book just like Ma’alef’ak had done to the villains he’d engineered the kidnapping of.

{Off off off!}

Pyyrus phased out of existence, but the Martian psychic spikes were designed to remain inside a being’s brain even if such an act took place. They were only half-physical devices, their ethereal quality allowing for psychic surgery when applied correctly.

The Atom was clearly not applying them correctly, but again, that was part of the plan.

Unfortunately, Ray wasn’t a psychic spike, so he slipped through the Burning Martian’s head and into its waiting hand. He was squeezed tight, and the only respite came when Cyborg pulled himself up and surged forward, removing the creature’s hand with a swipe of a white noise dagger Victor had formed from his wrist.

The Atom shrank small thanks to the space he’d been given, while Green Lantern pushed Pyyrus forward, into the waiting arms of the Martian Manhunter, who clutched the monster tightly.

As soon as they touched, a shockwave of psychic energy stormed out of them sending the Justice Leaguers present to the floor. The contact also reinforced something J’onn had suspected since he’d first felt the creature’s presence on Earth. The psychic imprints between Pyyrus and Ma’alef’ak were vastly different, and it meant only one thing--

“You’re-- not-- my-- brother-- “

Pyyrus shrieked and clamped its hands down on the Martian Manhunter’s throat. {Not anymore--- I’m not--}

The chamber shook under the psychic might that flew out of the two Martians. Green Lantern doused Pyyrus in a fire-suppressive foam, but the creature’s flesh-on-flesh contact with J’onn caused the green Martian’s skin to blister.

The psychic resonator was spinning in tandem with the two as they battled, J’onzz unable to break off contact from the device if he wished to remove the pyromania from the Burning Martian’s brain.

Even as Pyyrus tried to shatter the arches that resulted in its resurfacing through Ma’alef’ak’s body, it would spin and keep stabilised, while its attacks were dismissed by the white noise barriers erected by Cyborg earlier. It tried to phase itself free, slipping into the immaterial so it could regroup, but J’onn refused to let that happen. As his own green Martian nerves emerged from his flesh and began to spread across Pyyrus’ body, interfacing the two, he forced him to stay material, forced him to stay in this moment.

{I didn’t-- realise-- there was-- another one of you-- waiting in the wings, J’onn J’onzz. If I had-- when your brother-- released me from the genetic firewall-- you all share-- I would have come-- looking-- for you--!}

“I’m-- sure-- you-- would’ve--”

{What’s the point-- of genetic superiority-- if you can’t share it-- with one’s-- beloved brother? He may be gone-- but I remain-- holding a torch for your-- dearly departed twin.}

“You’re-- a monster-- just-- like-- him!”

J’onn screamed as he connected his brain with the Burning Martian’s. The psychic spikes had done their job, opening his brain up he could reach inside-- but the link went both ways--

{I can taste your isolation, J’onn! Your loneliness! Give in! Give in to the fire! I can share it with you! I can put all you need inside you so you’re not alone! I can feel my brother wanting to get out, can’t you? His name is Fernus and he wants to be free!}

Wonder Woman’s lasso whipped around Pyyrus’ body, just as an emerald band of energy locked itself around the creature’s arms and torso. On the other end of the lasso was Diana herself, being supported by the likes of Batman, Majestic and more. With their hands clasped over Green Lantern’s ring were Big Barda, Hawkman and Nightwing. They were pooling their strength, their will, into the lasso and the construct, giving Martian Manhunter the chance he needed--

“I’m never alone; not while I have them” said J’onn.

{When I’m nearly done with you-- I’ll finish them-- maybe I’ll make you watch--}

The Burning Martian smashed its head into J’onn’s face, causing burns to spread across the hero’s emerald flesh, but he refused to let go, refused to disconnect from the link he was creating between the two of them.

“You-- know-- I could never-- allow that-- to happen--”

Pyyrus smiled, baring the razor-sharp needle-teeth that filled its mouth. {Then you die here, far from your adopted home. I give you Mars, your final resting place.}

“No-- that’s the gift-- I give-- you--!”

With one supreme effort, J’onn plunged his blistering hand straight into Pyyrus’ ugly face. He rummaged about in there as the Burning Martian screamed, as the Manhunter’s own hand blistered and burned horrifically, the smell of barbecuing Martian flesh filling the chamber.

Once J’onn found what he was looking for, he withdrew his hand, now covered in a black, tar-like substance, and released it, the pyromania Ma’alef’ak had stolen from the villains spreading through the psychic resonator and running along the circuits that connected all the pyromaniacs present.

“What just happened?” asked the Atom, looking at Blue Beetle as the likes of Firefly and Heatwave all screamed in their housings.

Kord’s voice was flat. “The resonator redistributed the psychic damage that the villains all had inside them. It went home.”

“B-but you said it wouldn’t go back-- you reprogrammed the device--!” said the Atom.

“There was no time. I lied,” said Kord.

“Y-you-- you lied?” whispered the Atom.

Above them, Pyyrus howled as its body began to twist and flex in the bonds created by Green Lantern and Wonder Woman. It lost its craggy, flaming affect and shrank to a familiar, emerald form, as Ma’alef’ak’s scarred, ugly exterior reasserted itself.

He fell to the floor, and the Martian Manhunter allowed his connection to the villains to come to an end. He floated down to his mad brother, and knelt beside him, even as Ma’alef’ak looked up at him with crazed, madness-infected eyes.

“no no no no no what did you do J’onn what did you do”

“I’m sorry, brother. I undid the psychic surgery you performed on yourself. I sent your ancestor back behind the genetic firewall that keeps us safe from the past.”

“you don’t know what that means what you’ve taken from me I will I will get it back I will find him again and we will we will kill you and everything and true Martian souls will burn the universe apart”

J’onn stood. His brother lashed out ineffectually, and he stepped away. “I’m sorry it’s come to this. I should have… tried harder.”

“I killed your family I killed our people this is me this is always me and I will always win”

Ma’alef’ak grabbed J’onn’s ankle with his thin fingers and gripped tight. He sent all his remaining psychic powers through his brother’s body before the Justice League could act. The Martian Manhunter screamed as his own body began to twitch and transform-- smoke began to bleed out from the corner of Ma’alef’ak’s eyes, and when the team went to separate the two it was too late-- there was an explosion-- they sent up shields to protect themselves from the blast-- and when the smoke cleared--

“Oh, no,” whispered Cyborg.

Ma’alef’ak was a scorched husk, barely breathing, his body a twisted monstrosity stuck between animal, human and Martian forms. He hissed instead of breathed, but he lived, in agony, his body now a haggard mess not designed to function with ease. He was a chimera of a thing, composed of many species, but he could claim no identity that separated them. He was a monster.

“Be careful, be on guard,” said the Guardian, squinting to see through the smoke.

Majestic inhaled sharply, dragging the fumes into himself, then he sent them upwards, onto the surface of Mars. Once he’d done that, J’onn lay revealed-- except it wasn’t him. Not anymore.

John Jones lay naked on the floor, scars from numerous burns covering his body. Wonder Woman attended him immediately, with Batman removing his cape to help cover him up. Jones looked at the others, confused, and then blinked hard, as if in agony.

“Oh… oh, no…” he muttered.

Green Lantern began to scan his comrade’s body, while Diana held him tightly. She spoke softly, but her concern was apparent. “J’onn, are you all right? What did he do?”

“He… used the remains of his own psychic powers… to burn mine out of me,” muttered John.

“You’re human,” said Batman.

John looked at his hands, pink and fleshy, a barely sealed cut on his palm a reminder of a recent mishap in Gotham, before his memories had returned to him*.


“His body has been fully transformed on a molecular level… it’s human…” said Green Lantern.

“Five senses… I’m… reduced…” said John, helped up by Batman and Wonder Woman.

“We get by,” said Blue Beetle.

The Atom shot him a look, but Ted shrugged.

“Let’s get you back to Laputa, get you fully checked out, okay?” said Doctor Light.

“Maybe we can figure out a way to turn you back,” agreed Cyborg.

Green Lantern began to disconnect the villains from the resonator. He kept them in emerald spheres, and they floated past Blue Beetle and the others.

When Heatwave went by, he spat in the hero’s direction, though the saliva hit the interior of the sphere. “I know what you did, Beetle. I remember what it was like. You said I wouldn’t have to go back to this, but here I am. I’m gonna remember that for the rest of my life. You ain’t gonna have that long to live with it, I swear that.”

“Cry me a river, Heatwave. You’re a monster. I hope you realise that in the coming days. I hope you know what it was like to be good for once, before you got reduced to this… this scorched earth.”

Hawkman gestured toward the twitching form of Ma’alef’ak. “What about him?”

“I believe… S.T.A.R. Labs to stabilise him… then he should be tried for his crimes in Midway City,” said John.

“I’ll arrange it now,” replied the Guardian.

Cyborg looked at Doctor Light. “Did we… did we even win?”

Any kind of relationship in the superhero world was a complicated affair. Diana was queen of a race of mythical warriors, and since her debut in ‘Patriarch’s World’ she’d always been plastered across the papers. Her face was a fixture of the 24-hour news cycle for numerous reasons, be it the immense charity work she undertook, the catastrophic battles she waged against the forces of evil, or her starkly different belief system that grated against the more Judeo-Christian values held by numerous major news corporations. If you saw her in the street, you’d recognise her.

Bruce Wayne, son of one of Gotham City’s most famous families and at times known for being famous for the sake of being famous, was also liable to be spotted if he was sitting in some café somewhere. Sure, he too was a charitable man, his philanthropy known to the world, but he always had a supermodel on his arm, some beautiful suspected lover that sang his praises when they were together and complained publicly when they weren’t.

Outside of being Batman and Wonder Woman, being together wasn’t going to be easy.

But here, on the Île de Porquerolles, an island amongst the Îles d'Hyères that sat in the waters along the French Rivera, with her population of just over two hundred, anonymity could come easier.

Twenty-four hours after the battle with J’onn J’onzz’s evil twin, Bruce leaned back in his chair; he had gone for the subtlest of disguises; a fake moustache and a thin scar that ran from below his eye to his cheek. He wore sunglasses and set his jaw on edge slightly. He managed to convey a different identity with small gestures, but when his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose to speak to his companion, those blazing blue eyes were still on display. People might notice them, but they would remember the scar, and the air he gave off. He could become a man apart from Bruce Wayne, just as he could be a man separate to the Bat.

Diana’s hair was up in a ponytail and she wore thick-rimmed glasses. She’d maintained a secret identity of her own, off-and-on, for a few years now, but found herself growing away from it at times. She’d once been known as Diana Prince, back when Zenobia had assumed the mantle of Wonder Woman*. She did little to change her appearance other than the change of hair and the glasses. But when you are sat on a small island, in a small town, at a small table in a small café, the fact that no one expects you to be Wonder Woman pays dividends.


The couple-- and they had come to realise over the months that was what they were-- held hands over the table. Even the ridiculousness of their appearances, the pantomime, added something to the experience for them. They were comfortable in one another’s company. They could go into battle together, they could walk the snowy gardens of Wayne Manor at Christmas, and apparently when their inhibitions were removed they could spend an entire night together in the Cave.

“The last few days have been interesting,” said Diana.

“An incredibly accurate and vague word to describe it,” said Bruce.

He smiled and took a sip from his espresso. The sun blazed overhead and it felt good to be out in the daytime. Nightwing had agreed to remain in Gotham City for one more night before going back to New York and the Teen Titans, but he wouldn’t patrol alone. Bruce would return soon enough. But now, in this moment, in this peaceful slice of their lives, he felt himself untense. His body and soul relaxed, and he marvelled at the effect that Diana had on him.

She tried to balance the words in her head on her tongue, and continued. “We spent the night together, and while it was… memorable… I didn’t expect our first time together to be so…”

“Extreme?” offered Bruce.

He still had the bruises on his body. The marks around his wrists. They’d taken it in turns, of course, but there was an animalistic quality to their lovemaking. Desperation, as if they were clinging to each other in the middle of a storm, and letting each other go would have resulted in them being torn away from their present state.

“Well, yes. I’m curious as to how much of it was in us to begin with, and how much was forced upon us by Ma’alef’ak.”

“It’s problematic to consider; but at the same time… I remember it. And you remember it. And while I regret the timing… I don’t think I regret the actions themselves.”

“So clinical.”

“There is a level of detachment that comes after a return to one’s senses after having a switch in your head flipped that makes you a sex-fuelled puppet.”

Diana laughed. “If you put it like that…”

“It doesn’t change anything. For me, at least. Does it for you?”

“Not at all. Our relationship is… only as strong as the truths we share.”

Her hand found his, and he wrapped his fingers around hers. She smiled at the gesture, then continued.

“Next time, I just think we should do without all the rope,” said Diana.

Bruce almost let out a laugh he didn’t know he had in him. Instead he shook his head, chuckled-- something that surprised Diana, but even then, she found herself being less surprised by how open and bright he was in their quiet moments together-- and nodded in agreement. “Yes. I totally agree.”

“There is something else on my mind… that I haven’t shared with the others…”

“I should hope not,” said Bruce.

“Oh, stop. No… it’s about Ted. His behaviour today… it concerns me.”

Bruce’s mood visibly darkened. “And me. He lied. He did something… I cannot entirely condone.”

“I understand his reasoning. There wasn’t enough time to reprogram the psychic resonator, but he convinced Ma’alef’ak’s captives that there was a chance of rehabilitation, before tearing that opportunity away from them.”

“You’re seeing a pattern of behaviour. I’ve noticed it too.”

“We know he went through a lot. Per Michael’s statement, and the scans we have on record, his entire personality was reconstituted. Ma’alef’ak devastated him. But you weren’t there in Ugthothlhem, when he convinced Majestros to lobotomise Enos Godwyn. For all his humour, his comedy and quips…”


Bruce responded with a nod. “…He exhibits a ruthless pragmatism. Lobotomising a man to prevent the spread of an ancient evil on Earth. Restoring madness to dozens of villains to de-power a deadly entity. He made the difficult choices, the ones we might not have.”

“Michael told us that Ted’s psyche was restored from a sort of… baseline personality. We’re seeing a… a different kind of Ted Kord. But there is a consistency with his actions before and after, and now he’s left the Justice League. What happens now? Without the team to balance out that behaviour?”

Bruce leaned forward. “Are you concerned for Ted? Or for… the world?”

Diana began to gently roll the glass she’d been drinking from around in her hand, contemplating the question posed. The answer, in her mind, was quite simple. Her eyes met his, and then she quietly said, “Yes.”


Automated sprinkler systems kept the plants healthy, and the glass dome refracted the light in such a way as to ensure that every single one of them was comfortably nourished by the sun. Katar Hol liked to spend his downtime with the Justice League in here due to how peaceful it was. Away from the clanking machinery that maintained the rest of the island, away from the boring day-to-day operations that kept the team functioning. If he couldn’t be in the skies, he liked to be here. It reminded him of home.

Without looking back at the door, Katar said, “Just because you float through the air in silence doesn’t mean I didn’t hear you come in, Majestros.”

Majestros descended so his feet were on the ground. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, and his white shirt was unbuttoned, showing strands of white hair. He looked troubled, and Katar could guess why.

“You saw what’s inside me, didn’t you*?” asked the Thanagarian.


A sullen look on his face, the Kheran warlord nodded. “I didn’t mean to, but yes, I know you’re…”

Katar didn’t let him finish the sentence. Instead, he admitted something he’d only confided in Kendra. “Sick. I’m sick.”

Katar Hol almost laughed when the word left his mouth. Sick. Hawk Knights weren’t supposed to get sick. Along with his rigorous training regime, Nth metal kept them at peak physical condition; he could shrug off radiation sickness, he would laugh at knife wounds and bullet holes. His body was a fighting machine, designed through elite breeding to repair itself after any altercation.

And here he was, sick to the core of his being.

“I’ve never seen a cancer like the one I glimpsed inside you,” said Majestros.

“Sadly, my doctor tells me the same thing.”

Harrison Wells had been the one to inform him after Katar noticed feeling sluggish a few months back. After wrapping up a case, Katar had gone in for a raft of tests, and the results were clear*.


“What else did he say?”

“To make my peace with the ones I care for. There doesn’t seem to be any cure. He’s still looking of course… I’m Patient X of a special project in S.T.A.R. Labs. No one knows it’s me.”

What else had Wells said? Nth metal apparently did nothing to cure it, like it should have as soon as it formed in his body-- cancer was not a concern on Thanagar. What they knew it as was ‘the Passing’. Nth metal permeated every aspect of their culture, so their genetic structure could fight off the foreign, mutated cells that formed cancer.

Your body would experience the formation of cancerous matter inside it, and then it would pass within a matter of days. Your body would fight it off. For a human, it would take centuries of exposure to the mythic Nth metal to experience the same effect-- and clearly, you’d be dead by then.

Wells theorised it might have something to do with his half-human / half-Thanagarian biology. But he said that seemed unlikely. More tests. More experimentation. They had his blood, they had a full body scan, and he visited Wells privately when he had the time, just to track the progression of the cancer. But it all came back to the Nth metal…

All it did was keep it from spreading faster; if he were to hang up the harness and wings, he’d be an easy target. Dead within a matter of months. The only thing he could do to keep himself alive was keep flying, keep that Nth metal close to his heart.

“Why don’t the others know?”

That was met by a shrug. “Kendra does*. I’ve yet to speak to my father about it, but I will.”


Majestros didn’t understand how he could be so calm about it all. In his own life, the Kheran had lost so much. Khera died in the fires ignited by their war with the Daemonites. He’d been betrayed by someone as close to him as a brother. He’d lost his family; his people; his love, Zannah*… and if he could do anything to reclaim that, he would.


“Katar, why haven’t you told the team? There must be something…”

“No. I won’t spend the last of my days wasting the time of the greatest heroes of this world-- this damn universe-- to try and further my own life. I will live my life like I always have, I will endeavour to never waste a day, and to never miss an opportunity to make this beautiful world better than it was when I first arrived on it.”

“Katar, damn you, there must be--”

Hawkman swung round and levelled a finger at Majestic. “You will not mention this to anybody, Majestros. This is my burden to carry. I appreciate that you did not mean to learn this about me, but unfortunately you did. I ask of no man to be my secret-keeper, but you have stumbled into this.”

“You needn’t ask. I’ll keep this between us. But if you ever need to talk, know that I’m here.”

He extended his hand and the Thanagarian looked at it, his angry expression from moments earlier dissipating. He accepted the offer and nodded in thanks, then with that he was left to his devices in the atrium, his heart pounding as he knew that his time on this world was growing short… and after that, there’d be nothing left for him. Only the eternal night.

He said “Door”, and headed home to Kendra. He didn’t want to spend another moment wasting his time thinking about the darkness that would come for him in the coming months. He wanted to focus on the now, and that meant her.


He’d been under observation for twenty-four hours, but the rest of the team were confident in his mental health, so instead of staying cramped up on the medical wing Ted Kord sat perched on the edge of the Laputa’s pier, bare feet dangling above the crashing waves below.

He didn’t care about the five hundred metre or so drop from where he was positioned, straight down into the ocean. Wearing a pair of jogging bottoms, an old Captain Marvel shirt from his college days, and a dressing gown that whipped about his body loosely in the brisk pacific winds, he didn’t particularly care about the weather, either. There were other things on his mind.

So much had happened over the last few days, and he was left reeling. One of the most powerful psychic beings had shattered every aspect of his psyche. He was red raw in the head, and didn’t know what that meant for him. A lot of personal illusions were wiped away. What was left? And what was next?

Booster approached from one of the access tunnels that led from the central towers of Laputa down to the harbour, his mask pulled down around his neck, a brown jacket over his costume. On the front right lapel, the initials J and L were emblazoned-- he had found one of the support staff’s uniform jackets and ‘borrowed’ it, probably.

“Umm, how are you holding up, chum?” asked Booster.

Kord arched his head back so he could see his old partner in crime and then shrugged. “Not particularly great, Mike.”

“It’s… uh, well, it’s been a rough one, for sure. But we made it out the other side. Isn’t that the--”

He was cut off. “I’m not particularly happy with you, pal. So, yeah, we survived, but I learned a few things, didn’t I?”

“Teddy--” started Booster, arms out, taking steps toward his best friend.

Kord held up his hand sharply to cut Carter off. “You had some psychic play around in my brain. You took my memories away from me. Hell, you left me damaged. And sure, the damage made it so J’onn’s evil brother couldn’t get his mitts on my brain, but you stole something from me.”

“Ted, it’s bigger than--”

“Nuh-uh. No. You’re my best friend. You were my god damn brother, and you couldn’t trust me with the biggest thing in your life, and I… I understand why you did it. I do. I’m not stupid. The work you do, the stuff with Rip, travelling through time, that has to be kept on the down low. But you… you did it without asking. You tricked me. I would have… I would have let you, man. I would have gone along with it. But you took the choice away from me and I am seething. I look at you, and I want to… I want to sock you in your smug, all-American mouth. And when I look at the rest of these guys?”

Ted motioned to Laputa, to the throbbing lights on the top levels that punctuated the main quarters and meeting room in one of the two towers. That was where the Justice League were currently congregated.

“I just get angry. I’m angry and I’m sad. They were overwhelmed by an alien consciousness and turned on me. And it’s not their fault. It’s not. But still, I look at them and I’m pissed. So… I think… after everything… after what happened these last few weeks? I think I need to take a step back.”

“You’re leaving the Justice League? Ted, this, this is your dream--”

“Nah, it’s not, not the team. I want to do good. Always have. This is just… a means to an end.”

Ted stood, wrapped the belt of his dressing gown around him, then rubbed his forehead. There was a chill in the air, and he had finally started feeling the weather. “Kimiyo packed my stuff up while I was recovering. She’s leaving too, so is Ray. Not because of this, they don’t know the details. Just… university things… they’ll do that, but I’m going to try and do something different. And I can’t do that here.”

“Ted…”

“Yeah, you maybe ruined this whole thing for me. I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just me. But yeah, I’m gone.”

Ted walked past Michael, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“So, are you going to remove my memories again?”

“I… Rip and I…” mumbled Booster, trying to find the right words.

“…Try it,” said Ted, quickly, with a squeeze to Mike’s shoulder to punctuate the point. “Try it this time and see what happens.”

Heading further down the harbour, Ted appeared to ascend an invisible plank, his bare feet making a soft padding sound on the cold metal that suddenly appeared as he made his way into the previously cloaked Bug craft. He turned to look at Laputa, one last time, then down at Booster.

“Don’t try and find me. And if you think of cheating, using Rip to track me down? Well. Just don’t okay?”

Ted shifted his stance so he was facing into the Bug and then his shoulders slumped, a weight building on them that Booster could play no role in shifting, or supporting.

“Don’t turn your back on me, Ted,” whispered Michael. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

If Ted heard, he didn’t respond. He pressed a button on a panel next to him and the platform leading to the interior of the Bug rolled into the ship. A few seconds later, the craft floated up and away from the island headquarters of the Justice League.

Booster Gold swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to hold back the tears that came when you betrayed someone who was as close to you as a brother was.

Rip Hunter was standing behind him. Her chronosuit allowed her to slip between moments, just like Booster’s, and she looked at the Bug as it froze in space, as if trapped in amber, as she allowed time to draw to a stop around them.

“He’ll come round,” she said.

Booster shook his head. “I don’t know, Rip. I really don’t know.”

They vanished from Laputa and the waves resumed their crashing against the harbour. The Bug floated away, vanishing amongst the clouds as they began to spill their contents, and the island that the Justice League called their home became grey as the weather continued to turn.


NEXT ISSUE: After the departure of key members of the team, the Justice League need to find heroes capable of filling the void left by their friends! But when Ocean Master rears his ugly head and unleashes an ancient Atlantean evil on the world, will Aquaman and Mera have time to reunite with their old friends? Or will the horrors that dwell in the dark waters at the bottom of the sea cause a war between two of the world’s greatest superpowers-- the Justice League and the kingdom of Atlantis?? FIND OUT NEXT MONTH!