Metacrisis Effect #1 (of 2)

Not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.
- Sir Arthur Eddington

A person starts to live when he can live outside himself.
-Albert Einstein

This story occurs shortly before the events of Green Lantern #27.

-1-

It began in the depths of the solar system, as something silently passed the rings of Saturn. There was debris form an earlier battle there, but the massive yet invisible presence paid no attention to it.

It sailed through the darkness, occasionally a glimmer of it's true form showing through. It was a ship; a vast, implacable form, that spoke of deadly intelligence.

The great ship slid through the orbit of the moon.

It's stealth systems were more than sufficient to hide itself from anything on Earth, and even the terrible thing that waited on the moon's far side.

The ship's occupant knew about that creature, of course. He planned to deal with what dwelt there in due time.

You could define the entity within the ship as either a he or an it, and both were accurate. But for our purposes, we will describe him as he. Technically, he was an organic life form, but he could interface with technology to an amazing degree. The tactical threat on the far side of the moon had been noted, but it was not immediate. The 'heroes' were. Superman chief amongst them.

But together with his new 'allies', he was prepared to finally defeat the Kryptonian once and for all.

Closing now within the Moon's orbit, hovering over the Earth. Close, but not too close. Logically, the ideal location.

He sent the signal undetectable to all save his hated Kryptonian foe, and that one would only detect it if he was specifically looking for it. He smiled to himself in his alien way, and sent the signal to his allies.

His allies long awaiting this moment.

-2-

But someone was aware of him.

Leo Quintum had left the Earth behind on his explorations, but had followed an odd, almost undetectable, energy trail back towards the Earth.

He had been following it for a while, and had no idea what it was doing. He couldn't detect the signal it was sending, either. But he knew that something was terribly wrong.

He was sure that the intentions of this unknown intelligence were less than noble; after all, why else would it approach Earth in secret, sending no friendly greeting?

He also wondered why the unknown alien had not, in turn, detected him. Perhaps because he had flown in it's wake?

But he did not wonder about it long. He did not detect the creature's transmission to Earth, but he knew something had to be done. He had to act fast.

So he did the only thing he could; ironically, the same thing the creature was doing.

He sent a message.

-3-

Superman noticed nothing of the alien's signal, either.

He was in position to notice, ironically, because he was leaving Metropolis and flying up to the Watchtower. He didn't have to go to the Watchtower in this particular way, but he often chose to.

Wonder Woman was there to greet him when he arrived. They had just exchanged pleasantries when his comm squawked. “Superman! Come in!”

Superman frowned, then after a moment, he recognized the voice. “Leo Quintum?”

“There's an unidentified vessel approaching the Earth! I don't know what they want, or who they are but—oh God, they detected me! I've got to--” the transmission ended in a squeal of static....then there was silence.

“Quintum! Come in! Come in!!”

Wonder Woman looked grim. “Let's see if we can't detect anything on the long range sensors.”

Martian Manhunter was already at the controls, on monitor duty as he was. It didn't take much in the way of range. They couldn't detect the unknown enemy, but they had detected what he had done to Quintum just fine.

Supeman sucked in a breath. “Great Scott! His ship is damaged! I must get out to him!”

“I'm coming with you,” Wonder Woman said.

-4-

When his first shot didn't kill the explorer, he invader realized his mistake.

They were coming. Particularly the Kryptonian. Oh yes, he would come. Sure enough, he detected movement from that ridiculous space station. And Superman would almost certainly be amongst them.

But his stealth systems were still working. The explorer might have detected him, but Superman and his cronies would not; he was sure of that. So he retreated, watching the hapless fool spin towards the planet below.

As expected, the agents from the Watchtower arrived in time to save him. Annoying, but ultimately of no consequence.

They moved in; two life signs, one Kryptonian, one native to the planet. They rescued the explorer and took him back the Watchtower.

Superman looked for him, as expected. He sought, but did not find.

Nevertheless he backed up until he was almost in the moon's orbit again, waiting.

Superman glared around some more, then followed his human associate back to the Watchtower.

-5-

Titans Tower.

Nightwing stepped out of the elevator. “Well, it's finally happened.”

“What has?” Beast Boy asked. “My acting career has been rekindled?”

“Your best work doesn't involve acting, honey.” Terra grinned at him.

“Terra,” Scarlet Wing sighed.

“Relax, kiddo.”

“Except that time for relaxation is over,” Nightwing said. “This is serious.”

Everybody straightened up at that.

“I'll get the others,” Kid Flash said.

Moments later, they were gathered in the lounge.

“Don't keep us in suspense bossman,” Terra said. “What is it?”

“We've been officially invited up to the Justice League Watchtower. And it's not a social call.”

Several mouths dropped open. “What?!” Troia exclaimed.

“What is the reason, then?” Raven asked into the ensuing stunned silence.

“A potential alien invasion, by a so far invisible enemy.”

“You're not kidding,” Beast Boy said, awed.

“He doesn't kid about stuff like this,” Cyborg chided. “You know that.”

“So, when are we expected?” Kid Flash asked.

Nightwing did not smile. “Now.”


-6-

The Justice League and Teen Titans had never met formally before, though of course many of the members knew each other. But the teams had never worked together properly. There was the Time Crisis, when all heroes had been 'on deck', but they had not worked together directly. Same with the Apokalypse invasion. Then during the Starro invasion, the teams had—embarrassingly--been on opposite sides, at least temporarily.

“We really should have coordinated before now,” Superman said, nodding to Nightwing.

He shrugged back, smiling thinly. “Seems that it's always that way, with us.”

Scarlet Wing smiled at Batman. “It's great to meet you, finally.”

“This isn't a fanclub,” Batman said.

“No, I know. But I appreciate you training Nightwing and--”

Batman cut her off. “I know you are from an alternate Earth, and I appreciate your assistance to Nightwing, as I do all your team. But he does not run the team with proper discipline.”

“I'm sorry to say it,” Nightwing said, “But you do not have the authority to 'discipline' the Justice League.”

“He's right,” Superman put in, and Wonder Woman nodded.

“I never said I did. And I am grateful for....your assistance while I was....away, as you know. Just keep it professional.”

“Always,” Nightwing assured him.

“Don't mind Batman,” Wonder Woman said. “He's always like that.”

Scarlet Wing sighed. “I gathered.”

Dagon was uneasy. He kept his hands at his sides, trying to remain unthreatning.

“Be calm,” Martian Manhunter advised him. “I can see your mind; and in any case Batman had already vouched for you.”

“Thanks,” Dagon slumped visibly in relief.

“Now there's a member of your team I actually wanted to talk to about tactics,” Batman said.

“I'm sure I don't have your experience,” Dagon said, surprised.

“No,” Batman admitted. “But you know all about the psychology of fear, and surprise attacks.”

“True enough.”

Terra was intimidated by Wonder Woman and Superman. Not scared like Dagon was, she was nevertheless feeling out of place amongst the more altruistic types.

“Ahh, Terra,” Wonder woman said. “I have met your brother. Your situation is more common than you might suspect.”

“Thanks....I think.”

“Relax. Donna has told me much of you. I understand better than you think.”

“Yeah, but for you being good comes easy. I wasn't even sure what it was, at first.”

“But you try. And you have learned. Your motives are not the purest, that is true; but better to do the right thing for the wrong reason, than the wrong thing for any reason.”

The Flashes were actually talking to each other.

“Things are improving back home,” Kid Flash said, attempting brightness.

“Too slowly,” Flash answered. “Those that would bring us down are still in power. It's better than it was, but it's not good.”

“Even so, it's good to be working together again,” Kid Flash said.

“Yeah,” Flash agreed, giving a small smile. “Especially on a big case like this.”

Green Lantern and Aquaman stood in the corner, surveying the scene.

“Were we ever that young?” Lantern mused.

Aquaman gave him a look. “Yes.”

“You’re serious today.”

“The world.” Aquaman said patiently, “Is at stake.”

“The world is always at stake.” Lantern surveyed the Titans. “I guess I should be glad there is no Teen Lantern.”

“Maybe there will be in future. Do you doubt them?”

“No, I just know it will be difficult for them.”

“Now which one of us is serious?”

Lantern shrugged. “I’ll head out.”

“Stay in contact, and don’t face the enemy alone.”

Cosmic threats were Lantern’s business, but he didn’t say so. “Of course not, that’s why we’ve got everyone here.” In truth, he wanted to head Earthside, in case something else should happen while they were focused on the alien.

Beast Boy hung back.

“Star struck?” Troia teased.

“Not exactly. Impressed, maybe. Intimidated.”

“Intimidated? You don’t just mean Batman, do you?”

“No. All of them. They’re the big leagues.”

Troia smiled. “We’re big leagues too.”

Beast Boy made a noise that was not prepared to commit itself.

Cyborg and Superman were chatting in low voices, while Starfire approached Aquaman. “Why did Lantern leave?” she asked him. “I was hoping to get Corps assistance concerning my people. I should have asked the other Lantern about it when he helped us.”

Aquaman shrugged, not knowing what she was talking about. “He’s just antsy. I don’t blame him. This is worse than usual.”

“Yes,” Starfire agreed. “It is.”


-7-

The Titans had recently met another far flung traveler, named Adam Strange. They recommended calling him in, at least to look at Quintum. The Justice League had agreed (In truth, they didn't need League approval; but anyway all agreed. Batman in particular pointed out they needed every weapon available, every hand on deck). Strange was looking over Leo and doing what he could.

“He's lucky to be alive,” Adam said. “I daresay he'll recover, but it was a near thing. It looks like Colu technology to me.”

“Colu?” Superman stiffened.

“What is it?” Nightwing asked him.

“Brainiac!”

“Raven,” Batman said. “Help Strange to heal Quintum. We need him awake and aware, and to be able to tell us everything he knows.”

-8-

Brainiac cursed the missed opportunity to take the human explorer out. But he was still trying to maintain his aura of secrecy. It wouldn't do to expose himself before his allies were ready.

But thanks to his communications with them, things were moving forward. They were indeed ready to strike.

Then the experiments could begin.

Smiling in his alien way, he sent them the signal.

-9-

One of their number had clashed against the Justice League, recently. Martian Manhunter knew, and remembered him. He had said that his people were everywhere.

He was right.

One here, one there. An orphan in Chile. A politician in Kazakhstan. An occult bookstore owner in Portugal. A farmer in Guyana. A fisherman in Madagascar. A hunter in Angola. A businessman in Japan. A prisoner in Russia. Twins in Denmark. A dog in Italy. A cow in Ireland. And more. So many more.

One by one they changed shape and became something else. Something with pale skin and hateful eyes.

White Martians.

The ancient enemies of Green Martians like the Manhunter, long they had lain in wait. Now their time had come.

Green Lantern found one first, frantically blasting at the enemy as it threw itself at him, sending a telepathic alarm to the others.

-10-

Leaving Raven behind, both the Titans and the League had quickly returned to Earth when the alarm reached them. The Martian Manhunter went with the Titans, to coordinate with the League.

“You guys have got to keep the lid on this,” Beast Boy said into the communicator. They had contacted Titans West on the Manhunter’s recommendation, which Nightwing had seconded.

“We're already busy,” Bumblebee assured him. Her expression was grim. “Pantha and Jericho are already in the field.”

“How’s Rose?” Terra asked.

“She’s fine,” Bumblebee said impatiently. “Her precognitive abilities put her in good stead. But we’re all gonna be on the front lines soon.”

“Yeah,” Beast Boy sighed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“We don’t know how many there are,” Bumblebee went on. “But their numbers are increasing all the time. It’s getting serious.”

Tara’s phone rang, and she wandered away, answering it. “Yeah?”

“<It’s me.>” Her half-brother, the hero Geo-Force. “<We are mobilizing. Several prototype battle suits were made after Gregor’s death; now they’re being put to use.>”

“<Based on the Rocket Reds?>” she asked.

“<No. Much more modern and responsive. Gregor would be proud.>”

“<I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,>” Tara muttered.

“<Well, we need them now.>”

“<Yeah,>” She sighed. “<What about the Global Guardians?>”

“<The group’s been inactive for a while. But individual members are still--gah. I have to go now. Fare thee well, sister.>”

“<And you, brother.>” She closed the connection and sighed.

“The hateful pale kindred...” J’onn whispered. “It is as they said. They are everywhere....”

“Then I guess we’d better get moving,” Beast Boy said.


-11-

The hero Evening Star was much troubled.

He had formerly worn the mantle of Aztek, and was training his successor, who now wore that costume.

He had unfinished business with Luthor, and had met Batman and Aquaman, but at the moment was out of sorts in his home town of Vanity.

Then the White Martians came.

He and the new Aztek were fighting these horrid creatures left and right. They knew not what they were, and fighting them was difficult.

But what was even more difficult was what they didn’t notice.

The White Martians were taking specimens.

Katrina, his lover, was being dragged away.

The villainous Piper, who was sometimes a source of information for him, was also being cornered. His little piping demons were of no use against this threat. They fought valiantly, but uselessly.

He too was dragged away.


-12-

Lex Luthor, in his turn, was troubled as well. While he had no love for the so-called ‘heroes’, he knew these alien invaders--kindred of the Martian, no doubt--were the more immediate threat.

He would like nothing better than for the metahumans who unfairly stole this planet to ‘nobly’ sacrifice themselves against this threat, leaving him in charge as it should be. But that presumed they would actually win, and not be destroyed by the aliens. And that the aliens wouldn’t target him in the meantime.

And besides, he knew only too well that even if all the false heroes died, more would come. They always did. He shook his head and sighed. It was so frustrating!

Luthor had been through this before. With Starro, and Darkseid. He knew he would have to act in his own self defense. And unlike Darkseid, it was clear these aliens weren’t even inclined to pretend to negotiate.

Hacking the League Watchtower was difficult at the best of times; now they were on high alert, it was impossible. But they had communicated with the various world governments, and there was some chatter about an alien ship in orbit, cloaked. Either more of these pale aliens, or allies of theirs. Either way, it wasn’t good. They weren’t talking.

He’d like to contract Deathstroke the Terminator again, but that worthy wasn’t answering hails either. He’s was probably already out there fighting, himself. No profit in rolling over and dying.

Normally he didn’t like getting involved directly until he was sure of his advantage, like when he had faced the Titans. But that didn’t always work out, and now he lacked the luxury of waiting.

-13-

In fact, Deathstroke had shut down his communications even before the attack.

He had been brooding for some time.

He never lost, and never gave up, but the Titans kept on beating him.

They had taken his children away, both of them! Sometimes that filled him with rage....and other times he wondered if they were better off.

He could take on this ‘Titans West’ alone; without their east coast betters, they would be no match for him, he was sure. He could get his children back. But if he did, what then? They certainly wouldn’t appreciate what he’d done, and continue to work against him.

He had never given up before. Never truly lost in the long run. But now he was considering giving the whole thing up as a bad job. He’d still rather get his children back, but....battle might not be the way.

He was thinking on these things when the aliens struck.

He was in one of his safehouses; this one in particular was in an office complex in Syracuse, New York. Unlike many of them, he didn’t come in secretly; he usually drove up in a car, with a false eye, and the pseudonym ‘Regniald Pearlson’. It was the weekend anyway; only a few conscientious overtime workers around. Once in his own chambers, as now, he shed the false identity and dressed as himself.

Unfortunately, one of the overtime workers was a White Martian.

It had transformed into it’s true self and gone rampaging through the offices, chasing the few others around. They went screaming down the halls, one of the, gurgling in death as the alien killed it.

With his computer network off, Deathstroke did not yet realize the scope of the threat. But he knew his base was compromised, and he had to act.

Reluctantly, he pulled on his mask; and drew sword and machine pistol.

He advanced out into the hallway, and saw the hideous white thing tearing one woman apart, another cowering helplessly.

He took no pleasure in acting the hero, but self preservation was a strong motive, as ever. He swung his sword, and slashed into the thing.

It hissed and snared, turning from it’s prey, and it’s horrible not-quite-face grinned at him, then lashed out with a pseudopod of a foot.

The impact was largely absorbed by his armor, but even so inertia sent him a good two feet back down the corridor. He tried to land on his feet but instead crashed onto his back, and slid a few inches further. His ribs hadn’t broken, but there were certainly one or two that were deeply bruised. He still had hold of his machine pistol, but his sword was now stuck in the enemy. It didn’t seem to mind, or even notice.

Gritting his teeth under his mask, he pulled the trigger. The creature flinched a bit, and pockmarks formed in it’s flesh. But it kept coming, his sword still sticking out at an angle.

Deathstroke began to panic. He stumbled to his feet and fumbled at his belt. After his experiences with the Titans, he had started to experiment with different weapons. Including this one.

White phosphorous grenade.

He threw it; the creature grabbed it in one hand, and offered him another obscene grin.

Then the grenade exploded.

The blast itself didn’t seem to do the creature much harm, but the burning white phosphorous was another matter all together.

It let out a shrill scream as the flames burned up it’s arm and into it’s face. It stumbled around blindly, no longer paying him any attention.

He rushed in, pulled his blade free, and hacked at the burning arm. It didn’t do much damage, but more than it had before.

Unfortunately, this attracted it’s attention. It whirled and grabbed him by the throat.

He only had two more white phosphorous grenades left, he’d have to make this one count....

As if reading the thought, the thing snatched at his belt. But it grabbed a regular grenade. He pulled a white phosphorous one free, popped the pin, and slammed it into the side of the creature’s face. It bounced off, but now the bulk of the creature was between him and the grenade.

The explosion knocked him free of the creature’s flesh. It also blinded and deafened him.

The enemy screamed in gurlging horror and pain, and collapsed into a slowly spreading pool of mess.

Deathstroke was still on his knees, ears ringing. He didn’t hear the woman screaming at him for endangering her life (she had suffered minor burns and lacked the good sense to run away). But the knew two things:

1) It was vulnerable to fire, like the Martian in the Justice League, and ;

2) Once he recovered, he needed to invest in a flame thrower.

-14-

Raven still had her hands on Quintum’s temples. His recovery was slow. She didn’t like that much. Her healing powers were not all she could hope for, at least in terms of how quickly they worked.

Her offensive abilities were much more powerful. She didn’t like that, either. Her father was technically dead, and his spirit still slept in the depths of the astral plane, but his heritage was still very much with her, like it or not.

She also didn’t like that it was just her, Adam Strange, and the unconscious Quintum up here in the Tower. No other Titans, no Leaguers. Raven had been solo before, when she had to. But not by choice.

Strange was uneasy, too. “I don’t like how vulnerable we are up here. If Braniac decides to attack....”

“He has been silent so far,” Raven offered. “I would not be surprised if he was coordinating with the White Martians on the ground.” Radio chatter from both teams below had provided Martian Manhunter’s horrified declaration of his hateful kindred.

“Their arising is certainly not a coindicence,” Strange agreed. “I wish I could sneak my way aboard his craft, but that’s just not feasible. And I don’t fancy attacking his craft by myself.”

“Everyone’s on the ground,” Raven brooded. “Even assuming Quintum recovered, the three of us together would not be enough.”

A new voice crackled on the communicator channel. “Hello, you sanctimonious heroes. Any of you pretentious sycophants up there?”

Strange frowned. “Who is that?”

Raven stiffened. “Deathstroke.”

“Raven, eh? What you doing up there in the high and mighty Watchtower? I’d think they wouldn’t approve of your demonic heritage.”

Raven ignored Strange’s worried glance. “Heroes work together in a crisis. Something you know nothing about.”

“I know about survival,” Deathstroke countered. “And survival means knowing your enemy. Do you precious heroes know that these creatures must be Martians? I wonder what the Manhunter would have to say about that.”

“He already knew of them,” Raven answered. “Apparently the League has encountered one before.”

“Ah. So they know of they share his vulnerability, then. Well then, this call has been a waste of time.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Strange cut in, “But the White Martians are only half the problem. Braniac’s floating around up here in a cloaked ship.”

Raven started; she wasn’t sure she wanted Deathstroke to know that.

“Superman’s old enemy, eh? Well, there’s nothing I can do about it down here. Survival is my priority, as I said. Good luck, idiots.” He cut the connection.

Raven sighed. Now Strange would want to know about Deathstroke...but worse, he would want to know about her father.

-15-

Lex Luthor had been unable to hack Watchtower communications, but he had been able to hear Deathstroke’s own transmission to them. So the Titans and the League were cooperating agianst this threat; which was indeed a rival group of Martians. And the cloaked ship in orbit was Braniac. Interesting....most interesting indeed.

Brainiac might be willing to negotiate, but he seemed to already have made a deal with the Martians. On the other hand, the heroes were too busy to face him directly, at least so far. But if he could salvage some of that Colu technology....

He punched a communicator. “Deathstroke, I heard your little tete-a-tete with Raven. Talk to me.”

“Now is not a good time, Luthor!” the mercenary’s voice snapped back.

“On the contrary; it is an excellent time. This communication is secure on my end; what about yours?”

“Of course,” Deathstroke sounded harried. “What do you want?”

“Survival is a priority, as you said. But what if I were to give you a way to profit from this, as well?”

There was a pause. “How?” Deathstroke said.

Lex could hear the caution and greed warring in the mercenary’s voice; he smiled. They had done business before, after all, concerning that fool Aztek. “I want to hire you...to help me take Braniac’s ship down.”

-17-

Deathstroke paused for a second. “What, infiltrate? You got a rocket ship to get me up there? Or did you buy all the old Space Shuttles?”

“That would take time we don’t have,” Luthor’s voice answered back, not answering the Space Shuttle question. “But clearly, sooner or later, Braniac will either come down to the surface or, more likely, the White Martians will go up. So yes, when that happens, I would like you to hitch a ride and attempt to sabotage the ship, and salvage anything you can from the vessel.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is really about,” Deathstroke realized. “You want his technology.”

“Secondary to survival,” Luthor’s voice said. “As you noted when talking to Raven.”

“Point. Nevertheless, I’ll want double my usual rate for this.”

“If we survive, I’ll pay you triple.”

“And if we don’t, it won’t matter. What if they don’t go up to the ship, though? And Braniac does come down?”

“Then help fight him, of course. I probably will too, in that case.”

“You surprise me,” Deathstroke said.

“I learned my lesson from trying to work with Darkseid. Aliens can be used, as when I recruited the Tamaranean’s sister. But never trusted.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. We’ve previously worked together concerning Aztek. As with all the false heroes, he’s doubtless going to be involved in this. I don’t ask you to go out of your way concerning him, but if the opportunity presents itself...”

“Duly noted. Deathstroke out.”

-18-

The White Martians struck everywhere they could, and not just where heroes were.

Braniac wanted not just heroes, but those with “potential.” The Martians could scan for such things. One place they struck was the town of Owyhee, Nevada; which was part of the Duck Valley Indian Reservation.

In that town the citizens reacted the same as anywhere else. Some fled, and some fought. Not that it did much good. The White Martians gave no mercy. But one they did not try to kill; one they captured.

His legal name was Josh Longson, but his real name wa Long Shadow. They detected the metagenetic potential in him as they had in others, and grabbed him. He struggled and fought, but it was no use. They dragged him away, still kicking and struggling.

He didn’t know what they wanted with him, but he was sure it would not be good.

-19-

A lone White Martian prowled the town of Bloomington, Indiana. It knew what it was looking for.

Her name was Dabney Kouric. Her face was twisted, bitter, and scarred. Dark hair and gray eyes, empty of anything except loathing. She didn’t hate men, or other races; she hated everyone. A true homicidal misanthrope.

She was prepared as any person could be for an attacker. She had trained in boxing, was armed with a gun, a knife, and pepper spray.

None of them were any good against a White Martian.

It came up behind her, feeling her hate and rage, finding them mildly interesting. The scans also showed her potential.

But she was still just a target to the Martian, and it wanted to toy with her. So it loomed up and hissed.

There was no surprise; she just turned, and in one fluid motion drew her weapon and fired three shots. Only afterwards did she properly see her attacker, and blanch in horror.

The White Martian made a bubbling, hissing noise that might or might not have been it’s version of laughter.

She gritted her teeth and fired one more shot, but it was no use. The White Martian enveloped her.

-20-

Brainaic was pleased, in his own alien way. Things were progressing well, perhaps even slightly better than predicted. The Martians telepathic link was most useful, and so far their green-skinned “brother” could not read them.

Thus far, metahuman intervention had been ineffectual. There was no telling how long that would last, however; he needed to start collecting the specimens the White Martians were gathering for him. Granted, they could fly; but victims they carried might be liberated by force. The shuttled were more secure against that sort of thing, and had their own defenses.

Now came a moment of great difficulty. The metahumans, Superman not least, might challenge his craft. But he had contingencies for that, too.

He sent six shuttlecraft planetward. They would be stealthed, at first. But shortly they would be visible.

By now they knew he was here, of course. That was anticipated. The field served more purposes than just cloaking, as that foolish human explorer had found out. But one thing at a time.

The shuttles soared out of the dark and into the atmosphere. Some of the more hostile human nations actually responded by firing missiles.....and yes, a few of them were even nuclear. At their master’s command, the shuttles dipped and dived. Their defensive fields might be enough to stop all but the strongest nuclear attacks, but all the better to let them fall back planetwards and distract the heroes further.

-21-

Raven and Adam Strange were still in conversation when the shuttles materialized.

Strange cursed as the Watchtower alarms went off. “Should’ve known Braniac wouldn’t stay quiet.”

“No,” Raven breathed, watching the missiles arc up from below. “They cannot!”

“They have,” Strange said grimly. “Let me go out and help.”

Raven nodded absently, withdrawing her healing arts from Quintum for a moment, stretching her soul-self out into the void to grab two of the missiles.

Strange was mere moments behind, but that was enough for the missiles to fall back Earthwards. He grabbed three, with greater difficulty.

Raven sent a warning through the aether to Martian Manhunter about the rest, and Strange radioed Superman.

-22-

Superman was one of the few that could go toe-to-toe with a Martian in a contest of strength. Their shape-shifting ability was a problem, however.

The White Martians didn’t seem to be too chatty. But as Superman tried to fly up to catch some missiles, a Martian grappled with him. Evidently Brainiac was communicating with them, too.

“You should not be allied with these weaklings, Kryptonian,” it hissed into his face.

“Is that your opinion, or Brainiac’s?” Superman countered. He flew skyward, dragging the Martian with him.

It could fly too, of course. But it let him do the work, as it was trying to slow him down. “I said nothing of you being allies with us. But surely this is a conflict between superior beings.”

“Oh yes,” Superman answered. “That’s why you’ve hiding amongst them.”

“As a strategy. You have chosen to actually embrace their primitive ways.”

“Primitive is a relative concept,” Superman sighed.

“No,” the Martian said simply. “It isn’t.”

It faked a headbutt, but instead of solid contact, it’s head shifted and enveloped Superman’s head. It meant to asphyxiate him.

But it had forgotten something.

His heat vision burned through it and out the other side.

It screamed in pain and rage, but it’s burnt skin slithered off of his head. Superman gasped for breath, then kicked it away. It fell screaming, Earthwards.

Superman frowned. It would survive it’s fall, assuming it didn’t recover enough to resume flying before then. He knew enough from J’onn to understand that. He could not kill it, but it would seek more victims.....he shook it off. He did what he had to do, as always.

The delay had cost a few seconds, but that was enough for the missiles to arc groundward again. Superman grabbed two of them and hurled them back into space with all his strength.

He chased more downwards, and met Wonder Woman, Troia and Green Lantern, coming up to catch the rest. There were enough of them to do the job, he judged.

Indeed, there were. Only one was left plummeting groundward after their efforts, and Superman chased that one down himself. Rarely did he ever feel tempted to get involved in politics, but he’d love to have a discussion with the various world leaders who authorized these launches. But it would do no good, and only make the arguments of people like Lex against him seem valid.

Besides, they had to stop the Martians first.

-23-

On the ground, no heroes had yet fallen.

Titans West was busy in their own right, keeping the White Martians at bay. Speedy had returned for the occasion, sent by Checkmate; by now the weakness to fire had been noted by more than just Deathstroke and he had flaming arrows ready. Indeed, he was slowly building a veritable arsenal of weaponry.

Rose’s precognitive ability served her well here, enabling her to dodge even the most deadly Martian attacks. Even their psychic ability couldn’t counter that. But on her own, she couldn’t do much damage to them, either.

Her half-brother Jericho wasn’t doing much better. His own possessive abilities were partially neutralized by the psychic powers of the Martians. He could try to take one over, but it was a struggle. And every second of that struggle left him vulnerable.

Golden Eagle’s flight and physical strength weren’t enough. He wished he had some weapon based on Rannian technology, but no such luck. Pantha’s claw attacks weren’t doing much better.

Omen’s psychic abilities were hard beset against those of the Martians. She tried to block them, but their collective mind power was too much, especially with the distant support of Braniac. So she focused on one and began to wear it down.

Bumblebee’s sonic attacks weren’t doing much until she tried using it to destabilize their molecules. That made them angry, but also less physically able.

Risk was probably doing the best of them. He was having a whale of a time, pounding away.

All in all, they were holding their own.

-24-

All of the world heroes, singly and in groups, fought back.

The White Martians outnumbered them by a factor of perhaps three to one.

A few villains, like Deathstroke and the Flash Rogue’s Gallery, helped fight back. And one White Martian, who had made the mistake of taking the form of an Arkham Asylum inmate, died a gruesome death indeed within it’s walls.

The heroes were winning the battles, but losing the war.

Though there numbers were slowly lessening, the White Martians were getting what they came for.


-25-

The Titans, along with Martian Manhunter, had originally focused on fighting the White Martians in Manhattan, while the League had battled the enemy around the nation’s capital. They were slowly but surely mopping up those pockets of Martian resistance, and the plan from there was for the Titans to head to Britain, while the League moved to Russia. Thus far, Titans West had secured San Francisco, and was moving on to Seattle. Checkmate had assisted the League around DC, and was now spreading to the rest of the countryside. A new, hastily-assembled of the Suicide Squad had been unleashed to face the Martians in the heartland; so far none of the heroes had the opportunity to look into it, for which Checkmate was quietly grateful.

But once the missile launch fiasco had happened, all that was put on hold. The remaining heroes on the ground had found their position weakened, and scrambled to keep up.

It was the Flashes who suggested they consolidate their position. The question was where.

Slowly the remaining ground team began to more towards each other, each heading towards Philadelphia. They expected only scattered resistance, but the White Martians (or Braniac?) seemed to catch on to this move....the White Martians began to concentrate on the two groups, some even flying to reach them.

Once the missiles had been dealt with, the flying heroes rejoined their respective teams as they drew closer and closer together. The Martians did not seemed troubled by this at all.

“I don’t like it,” Kid Flash said. “It’s like they’re crowding us.”

“They can’t be foolish enough to take us all on at once,” Starfire shouted, blasting away to try to create a perimeter. “Bad tactical decision.”

“J’onn?” Troia asked their Martian ally.

The Manhunter was troubled. “They’re confident. They think time is on their side.”

And it as true that each of them was as powerful as the Manhunter, and much less restrained. The Justice League had fought one of them before, recently; and that had been difficult enough. And that wasn’t even considering Braniac.

But the League and Titans had both faced cosmic threats before, separately, and won. They’d faced invasions by Darkseid of Apokalypse and Starro the Conqueror. They’d survived the Black Sun. They’d survived a challenge to the very fabric of time itself. They were wary, but confident.

Perhaps just a little too confident.

-26-

Deathstroke hadn’t had time to buy a flamethrower; and everyone was understandably busy at the moment, so he stocked up on white phosphorous grenades and incendiary rounds for his guns from his safehouse, and headed out.

Unfortunately for him, Braniac had scanned his previous victory against one of the White Martians. They wanted vengeance, but Braniac suggested they hand him over for experimentation instead, as clearly he had potential.

The White Martians hadn’t liked this, but agreed to it, on the provision that Braniac hand him over once the experiments were finished. Braniac agreed to this, neglecting to tell them that he might not be so easy to handle once that day came.

So it was that Deathstroke quickly found himself surrounded by three of the White Martians.

He drew his machine pistol and fired; one of the Martians stumbled back, screaming and burning. He reached for a grenade, but before he could use it, the other two enveloped him.

He struggled, but it was no use; eventually he passed out from lack of air. The Martians still wanted to kill him, but reluctantly took him to one of Braniac’s shuttles.

-27-

An exhausted Evening Star made it back to his apartment in Vanity; only then did he notice Katrina was missing, the apartment utterly trashed. Frantically, he searched, and called Aztek back; he also called Piper, who was a source of information, but that worthy didn’t answer.

For a moment he thought that maybe the Piper had kidnapped her, and raced to the villain’s slovenly dwelling, only to find it similarly ripped apart.

“The monsters must’ve taken them.....both of them....” He sagged against the door frame. He had already heard radio chatter that these monsters were widespread, but he had hoped against hope that Katerina’s disappearance had a more reasonable explanation. “Where could they have gone?!”

“What now?” Aztek asked. He didn’t feel like the new bearer of the mantle, really. In his mind, it was still Emilio, his predecessor, now known as Evening Star, who was in charge.

Evening Star visibly pulled himself together. He’d not do Katrina--or the Piper--any favors by falling apart. “Batman and Aquaman are certainly already busy fighting these invaders. But I do seem to recall there being a group of Titans on the West Coast. If we could contact them, perhaps they can help us figure out what these monsters are doing with those they capture....”

-28-

Slowly but surely, the League and Titans had drawn together. More than thirty White Martians had crowded around, some of them flying up to meet those heroes who could do so.

Now the heroes were properly concerned.

Wonder Woman lassoed one of the White Martians and yanked it down. It rose and tried to rein her in with her own lasso, but Terra dropped a boulder on it. With a supreme effort, the Martian rolled the rock off itself and, dazed, tried to rise. Wonder Woman beat it down. It tried to use it’s shapeshifting ability to absorb her blows and trap her within, but the physical force of her strikes was simply too much.

Troia had another one in her grip. It tried to shapeshift; she responded by yanking it, stretching it as though it were taffy. It squealed in pain and struggled; she brought a foot high and stomped it down. For a brief moment it enveloped her; by strength alone she broke free, continuing to stomp on it.

J'onn was facing his erstwhile brethren, shouting phrases in his own language. The one he was arguing with was answering back in kind. In truth, no words were needed, as they were skilled at telepathy, but battle cries were traditional in situations like this.

Slowly they shifted back and forth, an ugly knot of white and green. The Manhunter had fought his own kind before, of course. But this was different. A coordinated attack with outside help. In terms of physical power, he was slightly stronger, but the White Martian more agile, at least slightly. It wasn’t exactly a stalemate, but only time would tell which of them would have more endurance.

It’s brethren, J’onn knew, wouldn’t give him that time. He wrenched free, and Scarlet Wing threw three of her eggsplovies at it. Unlike white phosphorous, her regular blasts, designed to be nonlethal in any case, didn’t do it much harm. But it did a fine job of distracting the White Martian from it’s green kindred. J’onn unleashed a massive telepathic strike, and it collapsed into a shapeless mass.

The Flashes were in their element here; they moved almost at the speed of thought. Even when the Martians could anticipate their moves, they couldn’t move fast enough to counter them. The might be the difference makers in this battle.

But Braniac had an answer to this, as he had to so many other things. As a shuttle landed close by, it snapped up a force field. The Flashes bounced off of it, somewhat painfully.

Kid Flash tested to see if he could vibrate through it with one finger. It worked.....but very very slowly, and it hurt a great deal. He snatched his finger back, wincing, the fingertip of the glove beginning to flake away.

Green Lantern’s ring power also worked on it....slowly. It took a lot of effort and concentration.

Starfire’s bolts were doing a fairly decent job on the Martians as well. Not as good as actual fire, but doing some damage. The Martians very quickly were developing a grudging respect for her. Starfire too, was in her element, facing cosmic enemies.

Aquaman, almost as strong as Superman, was doing well against the Martians, except when one flew away from him. So he helped Troia and J’onn in their struggles.

Superman’s heat vision was definitely coming into play. His problem was the same as it had been in the struggle with the lone Martian before, of how much force to use. But three of them decided they would gang up on him, blasting his mind with psychic attacks. This was not a particular weakness of his, but he nevertheless found himself with a pounding headache, a little woozy, a little unsteady on his feet. This slowed down his reaction time when fighting, and made aiming his heat vision even more problematic. So he simply pounded the ground, and sent the trio reeling.

Batman and Nightwing were working together, like the old days. The current Robin had definitely wanted to be in on this, and Batman couldn’t really tell him no. He told him first to stay in Gotham and keep an eye on the streets, in case criminals took advantage. Then, while on the Watchtower, he’d told him to find the other young heroes he had befriended and work with them, ostensibly for his protection. Nightwing had heard all of this, and said nothing. He knew Batman was thinking about the chain of events that had led to his own departure from the Robin identity. And also of Jason.

But now they worked together, Batman’s brutal effectiveness complemented by Nightwing’s vicious agility. Neither one had physical skill to match a White Martian, but they had fought beings more powerful than themselves, many times. As for their psychic powers, Batman kept a mantra running through his head. Nightwing, a much more emotional soul, focused on one thought: I will defeat you.

Dagon allowed a Martian to envelop him; then surprised it by tearing his way out. He didn’t need to breathe.

But he did need his helmet to protect him from the sunlight. The White Martian ripped it off, and Dagon shrieked and yanked his long trenchcoat over his head before his face began to burn. Kid Flash whipped by, picked up the helmet and carried Dagon away far enough for the vampire to put his helmet back on and return to battle.

Beast Boy used his changeling powers to try to approximate the “natural” form of the White Martians. It didn’t quite work; what he got was an oddly-proportioned baboon with a misshapen head. It wouldn’t have fooled the Martians in any case; even without their psychic abilities to tell the difference, he was a brighter shade of green than J’onn. But they understood the insult. Four of them swarmed them, and he fought back with speed and fury. Two he knocked down by himself, Superman flew by and grabbed the third, and Green Lantern grabbed the fourth in a tight ball of power.

Taking the Martians down was moderately difficult, but not impossible. Making sure they stayed down, that was another proposition. Each of them was as strong and as resilient as J’onn. Sooner or later, they would start to get back up.

Sooner or later, the heroes’ luck would run out.

-29-

The moment came.

A White Martian decided to start emulating J’onns tactics, and used all it’s strength to catch Wonder Woman with an uppercut to the chin. She went down and stayed down.

Troia stepped between them, but another Martian grabbed Scarlet Wing out of the air and threw her into Troia. The Martian that had put Wonder Woman down picked them both up and slammed them into her.

Starfire was there, blasting away at them, keeping her sisters in battle safe. The Martian that had thrown Scarlet Wing flew up to meet her, but Superman slammed into it hard at speed, sending it smashing into a bulding.

Batman and Nightwing both went to kick a Martian at the same time; it grabbed their legs and threw them straight up into the air. Green Lantern caught them in time.

There was a roaring in the air, and they looked up to see one of Braniac’s shuttles coming in.

Superman was there in a second. But four White Martians glommed onto him at once. J’onn and Green Lantern tried to peel them off, but they would not be so easily budged. Superman once again added his strength to the equation, as Troia and Redwing groggily got off the still unconscious Wonder Woman.

Everyone was busy. Distracted.

Terra was backing up, blasting thousands of small pebbles at a pair of White Martians. She was moderately successful; they had to keep shape-shifting, and could not advance. But she never saw the one behind her. It blasted her with a psychic attack. Totally unprepared, she slumped into unconsciousness.

“No!” Beast Boy shouted as Terra was dragged aboard the ship. Desperately he closed, but a White Martian smacked him in the face so hard that for a moment all the lights went out.

When he came to, The shuttle was already a small dot. Lantern was chasing the shuttle, trying to stop it. The shuttle responded by opening fire on him. He shielded against the blast easily, but it slowed him down.

Beast Boy changed to a bat and flew up to join him, when a white hot energy blast from Braniac’s mother ship struck. Lantern’s shields held....but the force of the blow enabled the shuttle to slip away.

“NO!” Beast Boy screamed again, and flew after it, higher and higher. The air was getting thin.

Lantern followed him. Superman was still busy below. Only now was Troia recovered enough to even consider flying.

The air became too thin for Beast Boy to breathe. But he kept straining anyway. Green Lantern snapped a bubble around him, so he could breathe.

“Signal the Watchtower!” Beast Boy pleaded.

“Already ahead of you, kid.” Lantern said.

-30-

Raven and Strange received the alarm. Strange flew out on his own particular ride; Raven took one of the League’s own craft.

But a ferocious blast from Braniac’s mothership sent them both flying. The cloaking faded as the Colu finally revealed his craft openly.

Lantern got a grip on the shuttle with his ring, but Braniac’s forcefield snapped into place, disrupting his grip. He tried again, and slowly began to push through the field. Braniac responded by opening fire on the Watchtower itself, and trying to kill Raven and Strange. Green Lantern also had to keep Beast Boy alive.

The irony was not lost on Beast Boy as he watched the shuttle dock with Braniac’s hideous craft.

-31-

Braniac was pleased.

All his shuttles had returned. Only the final one had any difficulties; proof that the heroes only cared about their own. Not that Braniac cared; if anything, he thought it logical. But it was not his concern.

His concerns were with his experiments, and the future.

Now he could truly begin.

-32-

Terra woke, and frantically looked around.

She was in a glass tube. Deathstroke was on one side of her, Katrina on the other. There were other tubes on either side, but she couldn’t see into them.

Terra was beginning to panic. Try though she might, she couldn’t use her powers.

“Struggling will produce no effect,” Braniac said in a bored voice. “The morphogenic dampening field prevents any change that I do not personally engineer.”

“Personally engineer?” Deathstroke mimicked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“Yes, mercenary. I did not plan the abduction of metahumans such as your self for mere spite, or even curiosity. Though the data from these experiments will be....interesting, it is not mere research.”

“What do you want from us?” Katarina shouted.

“He’s after Superman,” Terra snapped. “He’s always after Superman.”

“Amongst other things,” Braniac agreed. His humanoid form moved close to the tubes, his blank eyes seeing everything and nothing. “There are other issues, but he is the most immediate concern.”

“So? This some sort of mind control?” Deathstroke sneered. “You won’t find me so easy to break.”

“Pointless bravado,” Braniac intoned. “In any case, mental conditioning will come later. First comes modification and retraining. Assuming any of you prove useful in the long run, of course. 86% probability that none of you will even survive. Humans are so fragile.”

“Uh.....” Terra felt a fear she’d never felt before.

Before she or any of the others could form a coherent argument, Braniac spoke again. “The experiments will begin....now.”

The tubes lit up with brilliant white light.

Everybody screamed.


To be continued in Teen Titans #67!

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