Space.
A blank engulfing void of darkness as far as the eye can see, in all directions. It continued forever anon, throughout the universe, an inky expanse of sheer…. Nothingness. Broken only by countless pin pricks of light that symbolized stars far, far away. It is said that not all matter in this vast universe can be accounted for. There are areas of darkness, untouched by any star, far from any black hole, mysterious emptiness called dark matter, areas where not even light can exist.
There is one such area on the periphery of existence, far removed from any world, from any star, from any orbiting moon. To the observer, there is nothing there, if one were to enter this period of darkness, one would simply find oneself lost… in an abyss of emptiness. What one would not be able to see, what one could not know, is that in that very place, in a dimension JUST outside our own… twin worlds exist.
They circled each other in the void, almost warily- like two grizzled boxers drawing back in a ring, seeking a chance, an opening. It was impossible to reach the twin worlds from the normal universe by conventional means, by any means at all unless one had come from the worlds and knew their secrets. Once, they had been a single world and part of the universe but flaming cataclysm had long ago remade creation itself and now these two broken halves of a world had been remade also, forged into two worlds but trapped in a parallel dimension, forced there by the shock of the energy eruption at the death of the Old Gods. Now they were the home of those who called themselves the New Gods.
One of these worlds was a green, bountiful paradise. Even from space it looked tranquil, lush emerald plains broken only by pale blue calm oceans and expanses of white cloud. It was an Eden, a perfect world. It was Heaven. This world’s name was New Genesis.
Its twin was something else entirely. The planet that orbited beside New Genesis was it’s opposite in every way. It’s surface was grey and broken, it’s land long ago buried under layer after layer of cityscape, a dull urban metropolis as far as the eye could see. The monotony was broken though, by colossal columns of flame that burst from the planet’s surface at regular intervals- thousands of feet wide, dominating large portions of it’s surface even from orbit. Blazing pillars of red slashing into the darkness around the world, lighting it eternally in a dull red glare that seeped even through the black smog and clouds which eternally shrouded the world.
This planet too had a name.
It was called Apokolips.
*****
“A temporary setback…” the female voice said in a soothing manner. “Nothing more, my lord, I can assure you.” On the surface of the dark world, in the colossal palace complex which dominated the surrounding cityscape, a woman protruded herself before a red stone throne. She was on her hands and knees, head almost touching the floor. Her body spasmed, and it was clear she disliked being down so low- which was not surprising, for she was not exactly thin, and she was anything but young as the wrinkles creasing her face and her long white hair could testify.
“The time we discussed will come soon, whatever the boy may try to do to avert it. Granny swears it… ”
“And if it does not, Granny Goodness?” growled another, deeper and almost animal voice. This came from another New God, one who stood, his back hunched, to one side of the great throne. A great shaggy mane of black hair lined his head, joining his bristly black beard so that his face was literally framed by it, and there was an almost permanent leer through yellow teeth on his face. He was squat and wide, powerful muscles evident in his grey skin. His eyes glowed softly red, and he resembled some wild beast more than a civilized, thinking being.
“My father cannot wait forever, and….”
“If I want your opinion, Kalibak, I shall ask for it,” came the voice of the final person in the room, and at it the bestial animal-man, Kalibak, flinched and stopped speaking at once, and the woman named Granny Goodness seemed to press her face further still onto the ground.
“Rise, Granny.” This voice was deep too, though it’s tone was softer than that of Kalibak. It did not contain the slightest trace of warmth, and though the words were not loud nor harsh, there was a dangerous quality that one could not quite place lurking in the way he said each word. At it’s command, Granny Goodness stumbled to her feet at once. Again the voice spoke from the great stone throne, it’s tone slow and deliberate.
“If the boy does not do as we anticipate…” “He will, my Lord, he will,” Granny assured him, as Kalibak gnashed his teeth at her for speaking out of turn, though she was unfazed. For his part, the source of the voice forgave this minor transgression.
“If he does not, it threatens everything. We shall need another plan.” “Father, perhaps…” Kalibak’s animal leer faltered as both Granny and the enthroned figure turned their withering gazes to him, Granny’s lip curled in contempt. “…If we cannot break that part of the agreement, then why not force Highfather to break the other?” Granny Goodness let out a brief burst of mirthless laughter.
“You think Highfather will consent so easily? You think we simply need to….”
“Stop.” Intruded the cold voice, and she ceased speaking immediately. The figure on the throne stroked his chin for a brief moment, as though considering it.
“A most uncharacteristically intelligent suggestion, Kalibak.” Eager to follow up on his success, Kalibak nodded quickly, like a dog winning the approval of it’s master.
“Send me, father, and I….”
“No.” the figure in the throne cut him off curtly, and again Kalibak fell into silence once more.
“This prey is not for you, Kalibak. Someone more adept must be dispatched if we are to locate Orion.” The dark figure turned his attention to his throne as his son hissed in disappointment, and depressed a small switch. A holographic, hooded head appeared on the arm of the throne. It was bowed in supplication.
“What is your will, Oh Mighty One?” the image of Desaad intoned. There was a pause for a long moment, and then the dark figure spoke one more time.
“Send Kanto to the Throne Room at once. I have a task for him.”*****
“Lightray!” squealed a high pitched voice. “GO LONG! GO LONG!” In response, the being in question, resplendent in a bright white costume with a golden helmet framing a face crowned by shock of orange hair, golden gauntlets on his wrists which did not extend to his hands, and red trunks on over his white outfit- not to mention a young, boyish face- slashed across the skyline at an unbelievable speed, the wind whipping up behind him. He curved gracefully upwards and raised a hand, seemingly straining to catch a glowing ball made of golden light but clearly too far away… when it suddenly seemed to dissolve and then re-materialized in his hand.
“Hey, no fair!” shouted another voice, this one somewhat less squeaky. “You cheated!”
The New God known as Lightray looked down at the eight or nine young children of New Genesis who were running, huffing and puffing, towards him. He glided smoothly towards them and gave a loud, warm laugh.
”Cheated, eh? When I was a boy, your father used to do that all the time, Caspar!” The young New God named Caspar- he couldn’t have been more than thirty years old, for Source’s sake, he wasn’t even an adolescent yet!- folded his arms in anger, dragging behind the others.
“Don’t make it right…” he mumbled, clearly annoyed.
Lightray’s expression changed to a softer one as he drifted over the others to land beside Caspar. He was over twice the boy’s height, but that didn’t stop him from crouching down beside him to address him as equals.
“I’ll tell you what…” he said quietly, tossing the energy ball quietly from hand to hand. “I’ll let you kick off the next Lightball game…” The boy’s face brightened and his red-faced peers closed in, eager to join the fun.
“….If you can catch me!” shouted Lightray, and leapt to his feet, turning to run away along the grassy plain. Yelling and shouting, the kids ran after him- he didn’t plan on flying, that just wouldn’t be fair. Chuckling himself, he was so intent on the game that he didn’t hear a boom sound from somewhere just in front of him, nor a figure emerge from what appeared to be a glowing tunnel of energy in mid-air. Still running, pumping himself to go just a little faster, he suddenly looked up.
“WHOAH!” He raised both hands, trying to bring himself to a halt, his feet dragging into the grass below until he managed to bring himself skidding to a rough stop about a foot in front of the newly arrived figure.
The figure was wearing a fairly bright red outfit, with blue gloves, boots and trunks over the red costume. On his head was a large metal bell-shaped helmet that covered the top of his head, though it left his mouth and chin open. A star icon dominated the forehead of the helmet. The figure was not standing per se, but was rather floating in a peculiar golden metal harness which was strapped around his torso and had special pedals for his feet, as well as a large golden weapon on one side that could easily be held and utilized by his blue gloved hand. The figure floated softly right in front of his white-uniformed, and a scowl seemed permanently etched into his face.
“Lightray, what in the name of the Source are you playing at?” asked Orion.
*****
Barda stood to attention outside the imperial Throne Room of Apokolips. Her powerful mega-rod was held stiffly at her shoulder, and she barely moved at all, resplendent in her Apokoliptian armour with it’s high helmet, face staring straight ahead like a true bodyguard. The rest of the room was full of other creatures and New Gods- slinking toadies, armored squadrons of elite parademons armed with high tech weaponry- it was a show of force, nothing more. These were not the real deterrent to any attackers. The real protection guarding the overlord of Apokolips was far more sinister. Even if one could master the secrets of the palace, could pass the intricate layers of traps and deceit, could defeat the armies ready to hurl themselves against an invader with the slightest provocation- even if the master’s elite themselves could be thrown down… there was still the matter of taking down the tyrant himself. And considering he was one of the most powerful men in existence… it was not a prospect Barda envied.
In any case, she doubted there was anyone in the room as powerful as she herself. As Captain of Granny Goodness’s Female Furies, she was ruthless, pragmatic, highly trained and deadly. A competent assassin, an excellent soldier, and a bodyguard beyond compare, her 350 years of service had been spent honing her skill. She was honored in the ranks of Apokolips, held higher than all short of Granny or the Great One himself to the eternal jealousy of that fool Kalibak.
So why did it all feel so wrong?
She could be cruel, when she needed to be. She had been for decades, centuries even. But despite what she let her superiors think, she did not enjoy it. She did not take pleasure in the suffering of others. She had led the forces of Apokolips in putting down the Hunger Dogs’ rebellions, she had defeated their leader herself with the Mega Rod and brought him before the Great One’s Throne.
But she had never enjoyed it. Never taken the delight in it that others did. For over a century she had brooded on this truth. She had only been fifty when the truce was declared with New Genesis- when Highfather and the Apokoliptian overlord had made a secret, mysterious pact the details of which were unknown to all save their most trusted confidantes. Of course the great one had only used the truce as an excuse to rebuild his own shattered forces, prepare for war, but… but… maybe that was what was wrong with her? Maybe if she had been there in the war she would understand the bile and hatred she detected oozing from every part of this world? Maybe then she would be as merciless as she should be. In her weaker moments, she hated herself for this… this weakness, but…
“Barda,” came a voice. She looked up, startled to find she had drifted away in her thoughts. A sneering man with a short black goatee and soft, slick dark hair stood before her. He was wearing a rather outlandish costume- it appeared like a piece of renaissance garb from the planet called Earth, a fluorescent purple and black striped outfit, with heels and long colored tights, as well as a duffle hat perched at an angle on his forehead. Even on this world, despite his strange garb, he could still disturb Barda from time to time, if she let him. There was a long and contrived explanation for the costume Barda could never remember, but for now she simply nodded, trying to recover without showing her surprise. His smirk indicated he was not taken in.
“You… you may enter, Kanto” she said, instinctively deepening her voice slightly and spitting out the words. She had learnt through experience it was best to do this when saying anything on this world.
Kanto gave an elegant, over the top bow and stepped into the Throne Room, immediately prostrating himself before the figure on the throne.
“How might your loyal assassin serve you, my master?”
“Rise, Kanto. I have a target for you…”Outside the throne room, Barda closed her eyes and, as came naturally to her these decades, controlled the shudder of horror that threatened to well within her.
*****
On the sister world to this dark scene, two very different beings were deep in argument.
“Don’t see the harm in it, Orion. You need to loosen up-“
“I’ll loosen up, Lightray, when our skies are no longer blighted by that… abomination…” At this, Orion scowled at the large, dark blazing red star that gleamed in the sky, even in the midst of the daytime. A perpetual reminder of the evil that lurked within their very system- as if they could ever forget what lay not all that far away from the plains where children played in peace.
“I don’t know how you can do it, Lightray,” Orion spoke abruptly, interrupting the sudden silence.
“How you can run around with those children… playing their games, using your light-shifting powers to cheat at lightball of all things, when less than a parsec away, our enemies are plotting.” His face was taut, jaw set beneath the helmet, and both of his hands were now in tight fists. His smile now replaced with a slightly concerned look, Lightray walked over to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“The war’s over, Orion,” he said, mirth now absent completely from his voice. “The war ended three hundred years ago. For your entire life, for my entire life, there’s been peace….”
“There has not been peace, Lightray,” spat Orion, shrugging off his friend’s hand. “Skirmishes, kidnappings, murders even…”
“But no war,” Lightray countered. “No battles, no major ship engagements…. If we went to war, Orion, we’d rip the galaxy apart. You want to doom billions in order….”
“In order to rid us of the menace of Apokolips?” retorted Orion angrily. “Yes. If that’s what it takes. Yes.”
Another silence fell between the two, deeper even than before. Lightray continued to look at Orion, concern and worry etched into his face- usually strangers to it, though he found himself adopting those expressions more and more in these troubled times.
“Orion. Has something….”
“Lilaeth is dead,” Orion stated matter of factly, his face affixed firmly on a nearby rock.
“What?” asked Lightray in shock. “What do you….”
“Cruiser vanished,” Orion continued. “Small assault cruiser made a trip to realspace on some mission from Highfather. Disappeared yesterday. The remains of the ships arrived by boom tube an hour ago.” They both knew what that meant.
“Apokolips…” muttered Lightray. It was the only explanation for someone using the boom tube teleportation system to send back remnants of a New Genesis vessel.
“He’s growing more brazen with each passing day, Lightray,” Orion murmured through clenched teeth. “More attacks. More murders, more open troop deployment. Even Metron’s said it- there’s a war coming, and if we don’t strike first….” He trailed off. Lightray did not reply, still absorbing the news of their old friend’s murder. The Apokoliptian forces would not break the treaty, would they? They couldn’t. Highfather had told them before that there were ancient forces guaranteeing the treaty on both sides. Neither he, nor their dark foe could violate it while it’s conditions- which were secret- were met.
There was a bleep, and Orion looked down at his belt. From it, he withdrew a small box with several knobs, dials and a bleeping red light
.
“What is it, Mother Box?” he asked the contraption. Mother Boxes were sentinent pieces of technology possessed by all New Gods- for unknown reasons, Orion’s Mother Box was more powerful and had more personality than most of the devices.
“Highfather requests you come to Supertown, Orion,” the device informed him. He nodded and raised his head when there was another electronic bleep. “Please bring Lightray as well.”
The two shared a glance, and then Orion strapped on his Astro-Harness, flicked a switch on Mother Box, and a giant tunnel of light materialized in mid air. The boom tube that would bring them immediately to Highfather. Orion stepped in without hesitation. Lightray hesitated for one last second to take a look at the plain again, with the children playing in the midst of it. Even the normally jovial God suddenly felt a chill move down his spine, as though there were chill wind- though there was only a soft breeze on the air. He felt as though the looming cold and dark were seeping even here onto these fertile plains. He cast a solitary glance upwards, where clouds were gathering- it must rain soon, though the skies had seemed clear not all that long ago. Dismissing these ideas as foolishness, he turned and followed Orion into the tunnel, which vanished into mid air as they both stepped through.
A storm was gathering, and sooner or later it seemed it must break.
*****
The overlord of Apokolips looked over what he had created, and it was good. From his high balcony over the fire pits above, he often surveyed his empire. A massive dull red highway ran through the urban wasteland directly in front of his palace, interrupted only by a massive statue of him. Along side roads and streets, countless flying vehicles proceeded in orderly queues, taking different New Gods to and fro in the planetwide metropolis. A colossal firepit blazed nearby, and if he strained his ears, the dark one thought he could
just hear what might be the dying screams of condemned prisoners who had failed to accomplish whatever their work tasks were effectively. Everything had it’s place- whether it was the parallel squadrons of Parademons who flanked all major squares to ensure people moved to where they were supposed to move, the squads of soldiers who practiced firing their machinery in perfect synchrony, or the whips of the slave-drivers beneath the palace and at construction sites, their whips rising and falling at the exact same time, in pre-ordained pattern beneath the blood-red sky.
It was flawlessly controlled.
It was perfectly ordered.
And to the one who surveyed it all from his proper place- far above- …It was beautiful.
“The prisoner has made another escape attempt, my Lord…” came the guttural voice of Kalibak from behind him, intruding on his solitude. “Granny wishes to know what you want done with him.”
The dark one paused for a second, as though considering. His son did not need to say which prisoner. There were only a bare handful of prisoners who survived long on this world before their executions. And only one who could possibly escape.
“Double his lashes and halve his food rations.” He pronounced at last. He saw Kalibak scowl- he knew his son wanted the prisoner dead. But he had very good reason to keep the youth alive.
“No, Kalibak, we cannot kill him yet,” he said, cutting off the other God before he could even speak.
“There is a pact to be honored.” A slight smile came to his face.
He turned away from his son to look over the balcony at his world once again.
“But rest assured, my son, Scott Free’s time will come. And it will come soon.” Kalibak bowed and turned to leave but the dark one turned around just as he did so, and so instead the shorter New God fell to his knees. The Apokoliptian tyrant took three more steps forward with his black booted feet. He stood more than a head taller than the tallest man and was broader too- on his body, he wore a dark blue-almost black- tunic broken only by a black belt, with similarly shaded gloves and boots. His skin, which was visible on his legs and heavily muscled arms as well as his face, was dark grey and craggy, almost rock like in texture. On his head he wore a dark blue helmet which exposed his features, and above a dark nose and sneering mouth which might have been etched into his statuesque face, twin eyes glowed perpetually as red as the flames of Hell.
“Kalibak,” he said softly.
“Who is your overlord? Who is the Alpha and the Omega? Who is all powerful and all knowing? Who is the father of Apokolips, and your ruler now and forever?”Without hesitation, face pressed to the floor, Kalibak answered as was customary.
“Darkseid Is.” 
