The 'New 52' IC

[Nigawatts]

The first thing he felt when he awoke was the pain piercing the side of his body. The second was the fact that for some reason he was still wearing his suit. The last thing he noticed was that he was not in his bedroom, the Manor, or even the Cave. He was in fact hanging upside down in what seemed to be some abandoned ship's cargo hold.

As he got his barrings, he realized (thankfully) that his mask was still on. Didn't mean they hadn't popped a peek but it did mean that his headset was still activated. He must have been out for awhile because he could hear the blood pumping in his ears from being upside down so long. His arms were bound in handcuffs behind his back but he wouldn't need them to access the microphone. With a jerking twist that caused pain to shoot up his side again, he was able to swing the chain holding him around. Once he saw that they hadn't posted any guards to watch him, he pressed his shoulder into the earpiece under his cowl.

"Alfred." He whispered softly into his cowl's microphone, hoping/knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear him on the other line.

"Master Wayne! My god is it good to hear your voice again." Came the refined, if a tad exhausted voice of Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce Wayne's faithful butler and childhood guardian.

"How long have I been gone?"

"Nearly two days."

"Is the suit's GPS still functional?"

"I'm not reading you on any wavelengths. You must be outside the city."

"Possibly, although I'm surprised Mannheim didn't kill me when he had the chance."

"So he's the reason you didn't return last night.?"

"Partially, it wa-" Batman cut himself off as he heard movement from the bow of the ship. On the opposite wall he saw a bulkhead open and 3 men step into the room.

"Well, well, well. Looks like our trophy finally woke up. How's it hangin' Batman?" Out of the shadow, Bruno Mannheim's voice filled the cargo hold with a loud echo.

As he stepped into the light Batman was hanging next to, Batman could see that he was barely containing a gap-toothed smile beneath his thin mustache. A large man, even by Batman's reckoning, he wore a tailored black suit with several pieces of jewelry. His hair was shaved into a flat top on his head, and you could see gray color beginning to climb up the sides. The man had come to Gotham several months ago, and began seizing territory and manpower from the local gangs. At first Batman had figured it was a simple muscling-in, based on the growing weakness of Gotham's underworld thanks to his vigilantism. However, things quickly began to change. Batman realized Mannheim's men didn't act like your common thugs. A few of them held some religious zealotry not far removed from insurgents from the third world. A few of their activities seemed less criminal and more like terrorism with the purpose of spreading chaos. Batman had dealt with people like this before, but never on such a scale.

"So even the legendary Batman, is nothing next Intergang's power, eh? Bet you were surprised by that weapon my boys used at the warehouse. You know I'll be the first to admit, I didn't believe in all this alien shit. But who could argue with these results. After this deal goes through, I'm taking my show back to Metropolis and putting Superman back in his place." As always men with the upperhand liked to talk. As cliche as it sounds, people felt safe talking to those they already written off as dead.

"And what kind of deal is that Mannheim?" Batman asked, his voice raspy from being dry for too long. The pain in his side was slowly disappearing, and he began to stretch his body inconspicuously.

"Heh wouldn't you like to know?"

"Actually, I already know enough to guess what you mean."

"Is that so?"

"Your Intergang is more like a cult than a gang. Your real mafia ties are either dead or locked away. So the only real power you have, is from your new masters. You trick criminals on the streets to sign up with you, but in actuality you are simply recruiting them for brainwashing and indoctrination. You get a bit of manpower and some new weapons, while they get the bulk of the slave force you are building them. Am I right?"

"Heh, wrong. Actually it's a bit more than a few capo's and some future weapons. They promised me, I'd be king of whatever is left of this rock after they're done with it."

"If that's the case then why are you leaving Gotham?"

"Because I'm suppose to help spread the word. This world's new gods need a herald. I'm sailing across the world to spread the good word, just like my mom always wanted."

"I see, so you've been indoctrinated as well." With that, Batman was finally able to free himself from the lock. The conversation had been a good distraction for his subtle movements, which Mannheim probably would have picked up on. Easily flipping his body around, he landed on his feet and quickly launched three shurikans aimed at each of the men. One hit Mannheim square in the face, while the other two were merely forced to dodge.

"Sonofabitch! Kill the bastard!" Mannheim yelled out as he reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol. His other men were armed with submachine guns and began to spray the cargo hold with ammunition.

Batman quickly leaped for cover behind a shipping container. The men ceased fire, and he could hear them move to surround him. He waited till they were on both sides of container before sending a batarang down one of their ways. It curved the side of the container, probably hitting the guy right in his face. The other one heard his partner's cry, but still came out of cover. Before he could begin firing, Batman used his grappling gun to grab a hold of his gun. Surprisingly the thug was able to hold his grip and was pulled along with his gun. Unfortunately it was into the waiting clutches of Batman, who made short work of the man with a few punches and a slam into the side of the metal container.

The other gunman finally got his senses back and came around the corner, a large red welt shined clearly across his face. Seeing his partner down, he began firing wildly at the Batman and containers. Unable to react quick enough to stop him, Batman was forced into a head long roll away from the gunman. Feeling a bullet nick his shoulder, Batman quickly came out of the roll on the front side of the container.

The gunman was sure he had hit him. After loading another clip into his submachine gun, he began to slowly walk toward the Batman's last location. As he walked past his unconscious partner, who had luckily been spared any bullet wounds, he wiped the sweat from his eyes. This lapse in awareness was enough to allow Batman to strike. Coming from over the top of the container Batman grabbed the now terrified gunman into a sleeper hold. The strength of Batman's hold, plus the stress from his panic, quickly caused the man to go unconscious.

Mannheim, who had decided not to enter the fight, stood where he had been with his gun slowly shaking in his hand. He was nervous, but when the two guns his men had been using slid out across the metal floor of the cargo hold he began to panic. It got worse when a batarang flew toward the only light in the room, crashing against the hard glass cover and sending the entire hold into darkness.

Deciding to cut his losses short, Mannheim began running toward the exit. He almost made it, but accidentally tripped over something. The fall sent his large body crashing down, and his gun flying wildly into the air. As it hit the ground as well, it let off a few rounds, the muzzle flash of each shot illuminating the Batman who now stood over Mannheim's body. With surprising strength, Batman was able to lift Mannheim to his feet and slam him against the bulkhead wall.

"You are going to tell me everything about Intergang, about Apokolips, and about Masters, NOW!" Batman yelled at Mannheim. The gunshots and commotion must have alerted Mannheim's other men, because the bulkhead hatch began to turn. Reaching into his utility belt, Batman pulled out a large metal disk and applied it to the door. There was a loud metal on metal smacking sound and the hatch stopped turning. The magnetic sealer had been an experimental, and situation innovation of Waynetech, one that Batman was glad he hadn't decided to remove from his arsenal just yet.

Mannheim's eyes widened as he realized help wasn't coming, at least not quick enough to stop whatever Batman was going to do to him.

"I don't know exactly what they are, but they have a way of contacting me at my warehouse in Gotham!"

"What do they want?"

"I don't know, they just told me to convert as many as I could to the cause, then they told me that I needed to get out of the city by today. Then you showed up on my warehouse last night, so I had to figure something to do with you."

"Why? What's happening today?!"

"Master I hate to interrupt your interrogation, but there is an urgent matter in the city. I believe it has to do with whatever Mr. Mannheim was talking about." Alfred interrupted over the commlink. Batman had allowed it so that whenever he was out in the field someone was always in communication with him. He had tried to apply the same principle with his understudies, but sometimes things happened. Like the weapon Mannheim had that could apparently scramble electronics for a short time.

With a swift punch to his right forehead, Batman easily knocked Bruno Mannheim out. Before leaving, he planted a tracer on the unconscious man to help find later. He knew that wherever he was, getting Mannheim out with him wasn't going to be an option. Using his grappling hook to launch himself at the ceiling, he located the top hatch that most ships had to their cargo holds. It took all his strength, but he was able to turn the hatch. As he moved to the deck of the ship, he saw that he was in some sort of grotto filled with ship wreckage. The one he was on was an old travel cruise liner, probably from the 70's. It's hull had been cracked, and the other half of the deck had completely collapsed on itself. This worked out for Batman, since there was now no-one on deck that could stop him. They had probably figured they didn't need to, since he was stuck out in the middle of nowhere.

"Alfred, is the GPS working now?"

"Yes, I am picking up your location now. Good lord..."

"Yeah I know, I'll need you to send the Batwing to come pick me up immediately."

[DotCom]

The lullaby was gone.

Kimi Stewart had moved to this dilapidated apartment building--the sixth that year, though the cheapest and dingiest of the lot--a month ago after she could no longer deter the complaints stacking up about Bear's hunting habits. The shadow-black Great Dane was 'gentle giant' incarnate, and harmless as a fly...this fact was just a little difficult to remember, when, say, the 'fly' in question is stalking an elderly woman through the halls of the complex with 250 pounds and a row of pearly whites behind him.

It was probably just as well. It could be said of Bear, at least, that he didn't know what he was doing. Returning to your apartment only to find your dirty boxer briefs pinned to your door with an arrow and a note, the laundry room's for SHARING, was a little harder to explain.

And so Kimi had moved (or rather, been chased by angry villagers and their metaphorical pitchforks) to the outskirts of Gotham, which, while in greater disarray, at least had fewer rules about...well, everything. Or at least, no one had complained about Kimi's four am target practice as of yet.

The downside to living in one of Gotham's shittiest shitholes, of course, was the noise. That inner city noise that no large metropolis could escape--fire trucks and taxis, trains, sirens. No, this was Gotham city owned, copyright whenever the hell things had gone to pieces. The screams she'd gotten used to, and the gunfire, too, eventually. Drug busts, crying children, the occasional car alarm (though those never made it more than a few seconds before the owner of the thief decided it wasn't worth the effort). Sometimes, she even heard the police dicking around out there...but that was rare, and more a nuisance than anything.

At one time, Kimi had thought, she'd heard it all. Over and over, again and again, day after day, for hours on end, until she couldn't hear it any more. Until it wasn't the gun fire, but the silence that screamed from the sky like a razor-edged warning, setting her nerves alight and her fingers twitching for her bow.

Not that she was concerned about trouble, of course. But she'd already put down a lease on this new place, and she didn't get paid for another month.

So, tonight (or what Kimi thought of as 'night', namely...the middle of the day), when the silence screamed, her subconscious answered:

Something was wrong in Gotham. Something was very, very wrong.

***

Unfortunately, Kimi had dragged herself to bed just hours before after a long night of...well, there was some scouting, but mostly there was just drinking, and a little hunting with Bear. Fuck her subconscious. It was time for bed.

Thus replied her conscious, slightly hungover mind, to her alert, albeit meeker mind.

Big Bear, however, was louder than either of these, and Bear was excited.

"You stupid mutt," muttered Kimi with as much love as she could muster, "you have two seconds before I turn you into a rug."

Bear was barking at the window, shoving his great black nose up under the downturned blinds, throwing altogether too much light into the small room. Shafts of sunlight fell on piles of dirty clothes, empty take-out containers, sweaty armor, a ragged bean bag chair, a desk lamp (with not desk), and finally, the foot of Kimi's bed. The sheets had been thrown off, and their owner lay in a tangle of more dirty clothing and frizzy brown hair. Her face was buried in bare mattress, but one arm dangled over the side of the bed. She had only to extend her fingers to grab the handsome lacquered bow that lay there.

Bear let out a happy yelp that should have come from a much smaller dog and trotted over the lick his master's outstretched hand.

"Bear. Go. Away." Bear recognized his partner's serious voice, and decided he did not care. Something was wrong outside. Also, he was bored.

He put two giant paws up on the bed, half dragging the mattress off the frame as he did so, and gently closed his teeth around the hem of Kimi's t-shirt before taking three careful steps back.

"Fine, dog!" Kimi said suddenly, sitting up and pushing her hair out of her face. "Please, show me your last wish before I skin you with my bare--"

A tremor shook the floor, and Kimi shut up. "What--?" Another came soon after, and then another, followed by a concussion that made her ears hurt.

Even Bear had stopped barking. Kimi put a hand on his head to calm them both, then staggered to the window, even as the apartment swayed beneath her. She pulled open the shutters. Her eyes widened.

"C'mon, boy. We gotta go."

[Nightwind]

"Are you okay!?" A question with quite an obvious answer, something brought to light with the following reply.

"Do I..." The businessman's words were being struggled to voice through coughs and a sore throat. "...Look...alright...?" Gabriel went down on his knees next to him and gently put his hand on his shoulder followed by helping him to his feet. The man leaned against the wall, still coughing. It was hard to believe that he ever expected to be that close to death when he woke up in the morning. He had most likely had his breakfast, read whatever paper he preferred and eventually kissed his lover good bye. What would prepare a person for devastation? Not even the doomsayers would be prepared for an invasion from outer space, nothing could be explained in the field of battle.

Holstering his gun in the holster he had snatched together with the pistol, Gabriel made his way to the energy rifle on the ground. He tried to pull the trigger, nothing happened. It was out of ammo, no wounder the Parademon resorted to physical ferocity rather than just shooting the man.
Replicating an empty energy clip seemed rather pointless and the rifle was too big and bulky to carry around in hopes of finding ammunition for it. Ultimately Gabriel decided to leave it behind.

Footsteps echoed loudly with the clanging noise of heavy armor harshly hitting the ground. The fearsome symphony of approaching danger came from the corridor, the previous enemies had far from forgotten the Little Fox. "Uh-oh..." He gulped and took a step back, there was no tactical position in the room. It was just a square room with a couple of sofas and a coffee table. Staying would mean certain death.
After quickly scanning the area, Gabriel found a door to the right, the only way out of there. "Come on!" He let the clip fall from his gun and it vanished before it ever hit the floor. He placed a finger on the clip in the police belt and replicated another, once more fully ready for action.

After loading his gun he opened the door, being on his guard with pistol raised and eyes scanning every fragment of 180 degrees in front of him. He had found himself in another corridor. The businessman closed the door behind them and stumbled close to Gabriel, knowing that the young man was his only key to survival.
Several gunshots could be heard outside the building and the sound of their pursuers grew ever louder. The man tried to pick up his pace but his age was showing as well as his fatigue due to his previous encounter. "What...the hell...is happening!?" He shouted and coughed heavily.

"Don't lose your head now, there has to be some kind of safe zone somewhere were you can hide." Gabriel stopped as they reached a window. There was a war zone outside but inside they were being chased by four Parademons who compared to him were almost giants.
He opened the window, they were still on ground level, and jumped out, followed by helping the man. The museum wasn't far away now.
Hiding behind every single piece of cover they could find had become a routine. Hide, check the status of the situation, move, repeat.

Gabriel took a deep breath and sat down, leaning against a building wall. The man with him needed some rest and it couldn't hurt to get some himself. He peeked behind the wall and saw how several Parademons were running about but none had noticed them as they were hidden between some bushes and a big, stone wall of an apartment complex. They waited for a couple of minutes until the street was clear enough to allow proceeding further. "Are you holding up alright?" Gabriel tried to keep the man's will up. He smiled faintly at him but got only a nod as response.
They moved on and everything went quite well until the poor man tripped and shouted loudly at the pain aching from his knee. Several Parademons spun around and Gabriel found himself surrounded by five bringers of death.

His heart was beating quickly, in the mere span of two seconds the thought of everything he had set out to do was turned to ash. He promised Angel that he would reach their parents and sisters, that he would protect them. It felt as if it was all over.
Gabriel was snapped back to the reality at the sound of several gunshots hitting the enemies around him, he didn't know how to react. "Edwer!! Get your ass back in the game!!" That voice, in the past it was a voice that would always lead to the Little Fox rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. Now it was the voice of a savior. Police Academy Arms Teacher Brian Smith with a band of heavily armed troops behind him.

[Affili]

The rain had stopped some hours ago and Gerald realized he had dozed off as he rubbed the grogginess from his eyes. He lit a small candle and the inside of his living room illuminated with a dim glow just bright enough to see things around the room.

He stretched himself with a yawn and few absent scratches here and there and began to wonder what exactly had stirred him from his slumber. There was nothing out of the ordinary around his house., there had been no rapping at his windows or doors as the neighbors often did when they wanted to hang out a bit.

As he shuffled around his house a bit, he heard distant rumbles that could have easily been interpreted as thunder except there were no flashes of lightning slashing the darkness before the sounds of the thunder and besides Gerald had a really uneasy feeling that things were amiss in downtown Gotham, and everywhere for that matter.

He casually wandered outside but could not prevent a look of shock that overtook is calmly demeanor. Off in the distance, thick columns of smoke billowed high above the downtown skyline. There were flashes of lights and the distant sounds of explosions carried through the night air.

It would seem that this downtown ruckus had attracted several crowds of homeless neighbors and they all stared mouth's agape at the distant carnage taking place in Gotham.
‘Shit I better go check this out’ Gerald confirmed to himself, as he slipped back inside to change.

He dawned his costume and slipped out of the back of his subway cart home that opened out into a very private backyard surrounded by conveniently placed piles of old sheet metal and rubble from what used to be buildings. Upon the next flash of an explosion in the distance, he silently leapt skyward and quickly made his way towards Downtown Gotham the neighbors too wrapped up in the current events to notice a blur of a shape across the sky that was The Adonis Hobo as he darted away from the industrial park into the blackness of the night.

As he drew closer to Downtown Gotham it was all the more apparent that it was locked in the middle of some kind of invasion of sorts. He came to perch behind gargoyle statue on one of the taller sky scrapers and surveyed the area, not exactly sure what to make of the situation right now. Sirens blurred everywhere, explosions were going off at rapid intervals, and it was simply a mess right now.
‘I’m sure all this commotion has attracted some support other than law enforcement’ he thought as his eyes scanned the other skyscrapers.

The Hobo would not linger too long in one area, and he darted from skyscraper to skyscraper examining the surrounding areas and the streets far below.

[Zacharius]

Starfire

Servants of Apokolips, she had known them, if only through study, but that had been enough. The humans, who, for the most part, had no knowledge of the terror that they faced, for otherwise they would be uniting, rather than faltering. Even still, these bringers of darkness had dared to attack her adopted home, that would not stand.

Koriand'r had started her flight towards Gotham as soon as she became aware of the attack, before Earth was even fully ware of the extent of the assault on Gotham. Koriand'r had spent a good amount of time in near exile after the catastrophe that was Mexico, even she had realised that humanity wasn't ready for her to assist them, but now, well, even if they weren't ready, they needed her. They needed any help they could get.

As she approached Gotham, she flew closer to the ground, only just rising above the height of the odd house she would pass by, she did not wish to get swarmed in the air by the foul servants of the enemy before she could even reach the city. As she flew, the burning trail of her hair brightened, twin green orbs appearing around her hands as the unreleased power built within her, tapping into the solar energy around her as she approached the city.

The evidence of attack grew even more obvious as she approached Gotham, from fleeing cars to the occasional sign of conflict. As Gotham came into view it could not be disputed that the city was under attack, even in day light the fires of war were bright as Gotham turned on itself, even as it was invaded. Immorality was not a factor that would help in uniting Gotham against its true foe.

The suburbs and practical slums of outer Gotham were reasonably untouched, although a few of the aliens had ventured this far, Koriand'r ignored them, they wee in such few number that even the humans should be able to deal with them, although some did attempt to give chase after her, by now she was little more than a streak of fire in the sky, none were even close. Inner Gotham was a true warzone, even the mightiest of the great sky scrapers of the city appeared war torn, pitted with holes and seemingly far more insecure then they previously had. This was where the true princess of Tamaran did battle.

Two great pulses of green light lit up the street moments before Koraind'r brought herself to a stop, hovering above the burnt out wreckage of a bus. Two of the winged minions of Apokolips collapsed to the ground, their chests a burning twisted mess, still glowing from the after attack of her star bolts. Throughout the street, which was inhabited by several upmarket stores, or at least was, both humans and aliens turned to look upon the new entrant of the war.

"Foul invaders, you have wronged the royal house of my father and attacked the natives of this undeveloped world, surrender now and your deaths will be swift." Koriand'r's voice travelled far, her voice having a certain sense of both command and entitlement. Either way, it was met with simple snarls and retorts from her foes.

"I had thoroughly hoped this would be the case," her fair features drew back in a snarl as she touched down, standing atop the bus, she clenched her fists, both her hands and hair lighting up with star fire, he eyes glowing brighter as the minions of Darkseid charged towards her. The first few fell with gaping wounds cause by the bolts from her hands, before combat was met. The minions of the enemy were powerfully built, soldiers of force which had ripped worlds apart. She was a Princess of Tamaran. They did not even land a blow. Stronger and faster than them, she dived between blow before delivering her own, crushing them with well timed strikes. Two of the enemy, particularly adept in the ways of combat, continued to evade her, however after some time, she simply grabbed hold of both of them, pulling them towards her as solar power surged from her.

"Burn with me."

[iByaah]

Neil Sindras
Chicago

"C'mon, Patty, pick up!" Neil whispered as he held the phone to his ear. The ring tone repeated itself multiple times, prompting a shaking head from the listener. OK, not a big deal. Patty's pretty bad about answering her phone, it's always been better to text her. With that thought, the consultant and part time super cancelled the call and shot off a quick text: "Hey, are you ok? Call me!" to Patty's cell.

That finished, Neil flopped the phone down on his bed and turned on the small tube TV. Seriously...there's gotta be more footage... What came up were more re-runs of the same broadcast he'd seen at the Corner. He flipped through all the news channels he could remember but stopped when footage from a cell phone camera showed up. What the hell are those things...? The 'alien' was strangely armed and armored and from the past footage, Neil could tell there were thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands of those things descending on Gotham.

As if to answer an unasked question, the news channel received reports from D.C., London, Tokyo, Paris, virtually every capital city on the planet was being attacked by the same force of aliens in a coordinated assault. But why attack Gotham? That's not a seat of power for any government. What's going on? His mind began to drift back to his parents and his closest friend. What were they doing? Were they running? Were they fighting? Were they even still alive?

Making up his mind, Neil dialed his work's number. "This is Neil Sindras; I'm not coming into work for this week. I'm heading to Gotham to be with my family." As he hung up, an explosion from the TV drew his grey eyes. The whole place looked like a war zone, sky scrapers, the ones still standing, were pockmarked with huge craters and the intact windows were actually the minority. Streets were littered with charred vehicles and the broken bodies of those that had fought back. Up above, the camera man had managed to catch a few of the aliens carrying humans away from the fighting. Odd...

That settled, Neil donned his motorcycle jacket, stuffed the rest of his Relay costume and gear in his duffle bag, threw some extra granola bars from the cupboard in there as well, grabbed his helmet on the way out, and locked the door. If I gun it, I'll hopefully get before dawn tomorrow. He rounded a corner and shifted to one side of the hall to allow his landlord to pass. "I left this month's rent under your door, Cari!" Neil smiled. "Gonna have to cancel practice tomorrow night though!" The blonde shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"It's fine; go be with your family Sindras." Neil nodded knowingly and pushed the apartment's door open. He hopped the last 4 steps down to the gravel and removed the cover to his Ducati 848. In seconds, he was on the streets, headed for Gotham.

[Nightwind]

”Mister Smith...” A faint smile, in lack of other reactions, made its way to Gabriel’s lips as his heart slowly calmed down. He needed a second to process the situation; luckily a medic was taking care of the man who fell as he had been pulled out of Gabriel’s thoughts completely.

“What are you doin’ out here kid? Trying to play hero?” Brian Smith brought a lighter to the cigarette in his mouth. The weak ember was enough to grant him the pleasure he was seeking from inhaling the smoke of the small white and brown point of addiction.
His troops were on guard and had the entire surrounding area secured. Armed with assault rifles they were ready to pull the trigger at anything looking remotely alien. Their bullet proof vests and black assault suits provided great protection against human weapons but would most likely only weigh them down when fighting against laser. It was however nothing anyone seemed to have given much thought.

“I’m trying to find my family. They’re supposed to be in the museum.” Gabriel looked down at the blood soaked ground and the sanguine red that donned it like a carpet was enough to instill his heart with doubt and fear. He would still press on; nothing had ever had the power to remove his sights from a goal once he had put his mind to it. This was no exception, he would press on. Hatred for the aliens who were laying waste to his beloved home was growing furiously within him. When survival wasn’t his first thought, when he could take a deep breath and look around to see what was happening to the world a will of vengeance would slowly creep up his heart.

Arms Trainer Brian Smith placed a hand on the Fox’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Your family is not alone in there.” A lot more people needed saving and a lot of them were in the museum. Brian shoved an Mp5 unto Gabriel’s chest and grinned. “I trust that’s enough ammo for you.” The faint smile returned to the young man’s face and Gabriel took the submachine gun, now better suited for warfare. “We’re moving out! You two…” Smith pointed at two of the troops and motioned towards the wounded businessman. “Take care of him, get him to shelter. The rest of you, follow me. We will give these freaks some fucking payback!”

Gabriel was happy to hear those words, giving up wasn’t there for everyone yet. Some people were still fighting back. The attack had only lasted for what seemed like a couple of hours yet an extreme devastation had already erupted. Such hasted destruction held a level of fear of its own.
Gripping the Mp5 tightly he closed his eyes and tried to listen to what was happening around him. A symphony of violence. Explosions, bullets and lasers piercing through the air. For a moment it was as if he wanted to be part of it, for a moment a feeling of almost joy came from the thought of filling alien skulls with bullets. Gabriel quickly opened his eyes and wanted to shake that inhuman feeling from his mind and took a deep breath. Even though hatred and anger filled his heart he remembered that Angel had always taught him to never allow them to take control. “To the museum then.” He finished with a silent whisper.

The group moved through the streets in a strategic manner, keeping all flanks covered. A Parademon appeared behind some rubble and as if a mere instinct every unit within that vicinity sprayed it with bullets until it was no more. Another and a third appeared with the same results. “Area cleared.” One of the units made it official with the spoken words.
They kept moving until they reached an obstacle that halted their advance. A huge amount of rubble blocked the path to the museum and the quickest way would be through the subway.

“Looks like we have little choice if we intend to reach our destination in time.” Brian Smith moved to the right with the group following. The entrance to the underground subway was close.
It was an assuring thought to know that they could walk from point A to point B and fight back. They weren’t being gunned down like flies but it was no walk in the park either.

They were reminded of such as Gabriel was quickly forced to dive behind a concrete car stop and take cover.
The subway was just beyond the parking lot and Gabriel was unsure of how long his stone cover would hold against laser. He wasn’t willing to find out.
“Give em’ hell!” Brian tossed a frag grenade to Gabriel and he knew the plan as soon as he caught the artillery device in midair.

Gabriel replicated the grenade and tossed it towards the building a distance from them. From the looks of it the aliens had bunkered up in a small post office. It was hard to count how many they were but due to being as heavily pinned down as the group was, one could arguably say that ten Parademons were halting their advance.
The grenade went through the opened window and an explosion followed. It was far from enough. Four seconds passed since the first throw and Gabriel repeated the process. It was no surprise that he aggravated the enemy and soon turned out to be the highest point of interest.
The car stop was giving into the barrage thrown his way. Gabriel clenched his teeth and got down further, it was looking bad.

“Need some help here!” Poking his Mp5 out he started to spray bullets in random directions ahead of him in hopes of hitting something. He had no luck other than dampening the offense against him a little.

“I’ve got a clear shot, taking it.” One of the troopers pulled the trigger and released a bullet which hit a Parademon’s skull. It caught the last one off guard and soon it too joined its friend.

“Shit…” Gabriel was breathing heavily, now lying on the ground not to expose himself.

“Get up Edwer, we’re not taking naps yet!” Brian pulled the Fox to his feet and they were off once more before anyone got much of a chance to rest.
The path to the subway was clear and no one was lying in wait for them. They turned their flashlights attached to their rifles on and swept across the dark underground as they went deeper.

“Contact!” Through a single word the entire group found themselves behind cover a second later. A pillar filled the role rather well for the young Fox as he allowed the muzzle to face his enemy followed by emptying the clip into the creature from outer space. He reloaded and moved on, spraying the next enemy with yet another clip. “Stop fucking up my home you freaks!”

[TheIronRuler]

Isaac Nabokov.
NYC, the Bronx.

The earth shook. The first wave of bombardment shook the earth from its very core. Isaac fell back on his back and nearly split his head on the cold floor. The furniture in his room shifted and his small television nearly fell off of its small wooden stand. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. The shakes continued to torment the city, quickly finding their rhythm. Blood curling screams filled the streets – screams that were not human.

Isaac recognized those screams. He penned them himself when he was younger and more prolific. He crawled to the center of the room and opened his television, which landed on the local news channel. His eyes quickly read the subtitles before the woman reporter had the chance to speak and begin with her report. It described aliens, bloody aliens from outer space – bombarding earth and invading it with their ground troops.

It was madness. This was fiction, it had to be. Just like how Isaac wrote Maintenance into existence, someone must have written the aliens into his world. The audacity, the stupidity – the sheer talent that other bugger had – but that wouldn't discourage Isaac. He knew he was the better author, a man with penmanship skills so grand that he makes Greek epics cower in fear. The reason why these epic fantastical creations were willed into existence dawned upon Isaac as he was listening to the reporter speaking about terrible fighting inside Gotham City and reports of similar bombardments coming in from London, Paris and Dresden. She said that they were expecting more to be revealed soon.

It was the pen. That artifact, magical item – just an old knickknack his wife bought him in a flea market and said it would suit him. She placed it in a case of its own and Isaac took it with him along his other portable belongings when he moved into his new crummy apartment. When Isaac touched the pen all of his worries fled his mind and he was thinking clear enough to write. Isaac stumbled back and clumsily ran to his bed, looking desperately for his pen. Maintenance manifested himself outside, but Isaac had no clue what he would do alone. He didn't know whether the fantastical being would go on a rampage or fight against the aliens.

Loud sounds of car alarms going off muffled the screams in the street. Isaac threw his body back and turned around to look out of his window. His head turned to the right and saw things he couldn't recognize – humanoid creatures walking the streets, seemingly killing al those that stood in their paths and tried to resist. Maintenance looked at the approaching squad and stopped before looking up at Isaac.

"Doctor, I will repay you for saving my life", Maintenance spoke through his gas mask, his voice distorted – but Isaac already imagined how his voice would sound like, with and without the mask. Isaac was stunned for a moment. He couldn't believe his eyes – his own creation, walking and talking in real life – thanking him for reviving him. Isaac wanted to cry out of excitement, but he had no time to celebrate his spectacular success. One of the aliens shot at Maintenance and the man growled in response to his right arm being wounded. Another shot was fired directly into his chest which threw the super-hero on his back.

"Clean the streets of the scum of the earth, they will come and kill our children – Remember Washington – don't let it repeat!", Isaac shouted at the man. He knew exactly how to push his trigger – hell, he was the one that wrote it. The man stood up unharmed, his personal armor protecting him from the second shot. What followed an amazing feat – Donald threw one of his infamous intense chemical gas grenades forward and rushed in. In the darkness of the heavy smoke, Maintenance killed the aliens with a flurry of blows to the head with his trusty golf club and the assortment of tools on his belt.

Isaac pushed himself back and tried to catch his breath. He pinched himself and blinked quickly, desperately attempting to wake up – but alas, it was not a dream he was in. He returned to the television and was mortified at the sight of massive ships transporting troops down to NYC. It had to be stopped – and Isaac knew exactly how to solve it.
Dragons. Isaac ran to his pen and began to write on a piece of a paper wrapper left over from last night's dinner, something Chinese, but Isaac continued to write on the damp piece of paper.

It had been foretold that the dragons would return to the earth and haunt the races of men once more, but the legend was not told in full - Deep inside the mines of Beranis, the true stone slabs sleeps. It tells of a great threat that comes from the heavens in the form of men so twisted and wicked that had been robbed of their humanity by the gods as punishment for their sins. These sins were greater than man's, so great that they angered the sleeping dragons in the year 2012 of our lord and caused them to awaken from their slumber throughout the world, determined to destroy those sinners against the old gods and protect the humans – so they can punish them for their sins another day, when the gods so command.

It worked. The splendid cries of the dragons rising outside of the city – and throughout the world echoes through the skies and silenced the heavy sounds of the alien bombardments. The cries of those ancient, mystical – and fantastical creatures were heard throughout the world by both humans and aliens. Isaac sat on the floor with his back at the side of the bed. His hands were holding both the pen and the piece of crumpled old paper. He desperately tried to stop his hands from shaking after hearing the dragons come to life.

"This is spectacular… I am… A genius", the man spoke softly.

The pen was indeed mightier than the sword, and so shall the dragons protect the earth against the wretched alien sinners

[Zacharius]

They were fleeing from her now, an acceptable response given the circumstances, she was a princess of her people, making her a daunting foe even without the powers granted to her via the torture of her younger years. She couldn't completely remove the smirk from her lips as she watched them scuttle away. She had no illusions that Apokolips was inferior in all ways to her, but simple foot soldiers died simple enough. She raised her hand, two pulses of star fire leaping from her hand catching two of the aliens before they could descend into the partially ruined entrance of the human underground communal transport system, evidently there would be some number of the enemy now underground, soldiers of Apokolips fled to regroup, not just out of simple fear. Koriand'r would have to route them out.

Keeping to the ground, she broke out in a sprint after the Parademons, catching up with one half way down the flight of stairs, she pressed her hand to the back of its head before immolating it, jumping over its still twisting remains as she sailed into the next one, kicking out with her feet, it slammed into the stairs beneath it, the demon's neck breaking with a sickening crunch. The lights in the station were mostly out, but this mattered little to Koriand'r, whose hands lit up brighter than any of the rudimentary electrical devices could achieve. The bodies of commuters and others who had sought to take cover underground lay around her, sprawled in the positions of their last moments of life,a sickening sight to say the least but the Princess had seen worse before, some of which her own doing. Despite this, she advanced with some form of reverence, slowing her speed and being careful not to disturb the dead. As soon as she caught sight of another fleeing demon however, this moment of calm was broken, her hair lighting up at the tail, she soared through the air towards them, chasing them down further through the station, incinerating parademons as she went, leaving many as little more than charred remains.

Once she reached the tracks down below, the let loose a blast of star fire to each side of her, the orb of glowing fire lighting up the tunnel for her, steadily revealing more and more parademons. Picking one direction,s eh once more took flight, racing down the tunnel at near sonic speeds, releasing bolts of green energy do scythe through the demon numbers. At first she checked her speed to make sure she was not harming the chances of survival for any humans that had found themselves down in the tunnel systems, but as it became increasingly obvious that none had survived at this point, she focused on thinning the numbers of the enemy. Occasionally she would be dragged down by a particularly brave and resourceful demon, although as each time they attempt to incapacitate as opposed to finish her, she was able to break free and punish them aptly for laying hands upon royalty.

As she picked up speed and stations blurred past her, occasionally she would have to avoid crashing into the now stationary and wrecked trains, she slew less and less of the demons, instead seeking out larger groups to destroy, however the sound of underdeveloped projectile weaponry drew her ear from several more miles up the track. Humans. Alive. They became her new objective, to meet up with this group of humans whom had sought to venture into the underground system. From the sporadic fire she would guess a larger number of them, but even still her assistance would likely not be turned aside, past grudges and xenophobia should be turned aside during times of emergency, though she would guess aliens were not humanity's favorite individuals at the moment, the under-educated did tend to group together what have no real connection. Upon deciding on this as her new destination, she picked up further speed, still sporadically blazing the tunnel with fire, if only to deter any pursuit. She was ware her progress would be very visible for anyone else in the tunnel system, and that an approaching bright glow may not be the most comforting sight, though it didn't occur to her to check her speed to ease the situation. Around 50 meters from the human position, she stopped dead in the air, the continued momentum from her flight causing a slight 'boom' as she stopped, the fire of her hair flaring. She had come up behind the humans, meaning that while she had not eased their forward movement, she had at least stopped them from being attack in the rear by the large numbers of demons she had probably destroyed. Slowoly descending from her position in the air close to the tunnel roof, she touched down, though remained some distance from them, wary that they might indeed shoot at her in surprise.

"Greetings humans, I am Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, it would appear my assistance would benefit you no?" she phrased it as a question, rather than be blunt, thinks seemed to go better that way, especially as she probably case a rather intimidating sight, the glow of her eyes and hands on slightly lighting her up in a way that was not totally comforting.

[Ruby]

The Egyptian Theater, Gotham City.

He doesn't understand.

That was the last thing that that she heard before she awoke from her dream. The room was dark, the air was cold and silent and almost startling. For a moment she felt disorientation, forgetting just where she was. It was a similar feeling to waking up in Cabo after a night of shots and mixers, without the massive migraine and pain. Not that she was overly familiar with the pain or the migraine parts of a hangover: when reality bent and warped at the very touch of your voice, migraines and body pains plagued her only until she could mutter out a cure.

A fact Zatanna Zatara had always appreciated more than most. But the current headache that plagued her could not be spoken away. There was no magic she knew to simply make it 'poof be gone' -- she had spent the better half of the last week looking through tomes and scrolls old and older and simply ancient. Some feel apart to dust in at the mere touch, some flakes away as she turned pages. In the end, after three days spent in a dark barrel vaulted archives, she found nothing. Nothing.

There was no magic to save Earth.

"Sthgil," The word was sighed as she rolled to the side of the large, soft, couch in which she had collapsed upon when she could finally hold off sleep no longer. Even she required it from time to time. The silence was the most disturbing part. She knew outside the walls of the Egyptian Theater the world was ending. She had seen it, before retreating back into the walls of her father's Theater. It took her time to cast the protection spell, but when she was done the Egyptian Theater simply did not appear. None wanting to do it or those inside harm would see it, and if someone managed to break down one of the locked doors...there'd be nothing but a giant empty black space to greet them.

It kept her safe, but it gave her no comfort. Outside, Gotham City burned, the flames stoked and enraged by what she had overheard one of them battleshout an identification: "Parademons!" What a stupid, silly name. What stupid, silly costumes. Bitter, angry thoughts heated her mind and body. She wanted to storm out of the Theater and simply end the 'Parademons.'

And she could. She knew she could...but deep down, she knew that it would only last so long before something bigger and nastier replaced the Parademons. Part of her was certain she could take that, too...but for how long? In her heart of hearts, she knew that eventually the aliens would overwhelm her, and end her. And what good would she be to anyone then? None.

Not that it made her feel any better. Her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor of the large office in which she slept, the same office that had once belonged to her father. The tips of her fingernails faintly scratched at her bare legs. Last night might have been the last time for her to take a bath, to dress in sleep clothes, to fall asleep and dream. She didn't waste it.

Her black hair fell straight upon her shoulders as she forced herself to stand and make it across the office to the adjoining bathroom. Freshening up was done quickly, and without any joy. All she thought about was the white skinned Dream Lord who had visited her in her sleep, and the message he had carried with him. The sleepware of a slightly oversized black tee with thin cool black shorts was traded for black leather pants, a thick black leather belt with polished silver buckle, a white corset that was tied and tightened with no more than a whisper from her, a small black jacket that didn't even reach her naval, and a black lace shirt with full length sleeves. Makeup? No. She didn't bother with makeup. She rarely did.

Homo-magi women rarely did.

It was lacing up the thigh high black 'fuck me' boots that her mind considered trying to contact Bruce. Their relationship had gone from working to bitter to friendly to working to awkward. As a citizen of Gotham, she had been astounded and drawn to coverage of 'The Batman' when it first appeared five years ago. But she knew who it was. She had met him long ago, in a different time. Back then she was a seventeen year old girl with big brown eyes and a knack for doing the impossible trick: making him laugh and smile. He was the hard edged and world travelled crusader. By the time Bruce Wayne got to John Zatara, he was nearly done with his training.

If only either Zatara had ever known what Bruce was really training for...although somehow, she always realized, she thought her father knew. Even then.

It marked only the third time the famous John Zatara had trained anyone, and the first time he had ever showed a student nearly every trick in the Zatara book. It also marked the first time Zatanna had ever seen her father clearly unpleased with a young man being 'too closely and too long' in her presence. There had been 'moments' as she helped him understand escaping a water tank.

No man had ever looked better in nothing but jeans than a young Bruce Wayne. Except maybe Taylor Lautner. The wild, just longer than conventional black hair. Those dark, dark eyes that brightened when she came near. Body shaped and scarred by years of martial training so intense that Zatanna couldn't understand it. The way his skin glistined as he climbed out of the tank, the way his jeans clung to him.

And if that's how she saw him, she could only imagine how he saw her. At first she hadn't thought anything about it. She was just helping to teach Bruce how to escape anything, at any time. She was helping him learn the nuances of perfecting the art of escapeology and slight of hand. Her father asked her to help, so she did. Who knew teenage hormones would get in the way?

Not her. Until she saw him climb out of that tank. Nevermind he got to watch her climb out from behind and below her...it was a horrifying realization for a teenage girl that said she was comfortable with her body, but in reality was as self concious as any other girl. What if her thighs were weird? What if wearing the bathing suit under the black jean shorts and shirt gave her body weird curves when she was climbing out?

Bruce Wayne was only her first crush. Not her last. There had been others, fewer and farther between than she'd ever like to admit, but they were there...not all she was proud of. Some of them she never spoke to again. Some of them would reach out and contact her...but almost always for help with something mystical. Bruce had as 'Batman' several times.

And then there was Constantine. He had been patient, and nice to her. He had illustrated and explained to her the many labyrinth dimensions that made hell, and the characters around it. On demons and hell, Constantine was the expert. Well...he was the human expert. In the end, Constantine had simply made her sad: He was wasted potential. Had he been born homo-magi...maybe. But he wasn't. He was only a human.

A man left to cheap tricks and the weaker magics that any human could work with enough skill and study. But Constantine was a human man that was haunted by his simple inability to do those two core acts required for humans attempting magic, that skill and study. Instead Constantine had rushed it, he and his group of friends, and the monster they summoned...

Zatanna was not cold hearted, by no stretch of any imagination. But even she was cold to humans who abused magic. Because in reality, John Constantine deserved what he got. Every single thing he got.

Except for this. This time, someone was using Constantine.

With a whisper she appeared in his apartment, arms crossed, eyes dark and intent upon him. She was still his friend...and that was all he knew her as: She had memory wiped the rest of their relationship history from him entirely. Why? To help her sleep at night. "John," She finally spoke out, loudly. Constantine was still in the middle of trying to get through to Dream of the Endless.

Unfortunately, Dream was right: "He doesn't understand." That was why she was here.

"The call won't work, John. He's gone underground. He's in hiding, and he sent me to take you to him. You might want to smoke first, though: There's no smoking where we're going."

She finished speaking with a sweet, large, smile. Something, she knew, that always unsettled Constantine.