Hellfire watched as Orbit launched her attack on Double Down. The strike looked brutal. He'd hate to have been hit like that. But DD seemed to just shake the attack off, launching his own relentless assault on Ditto, Fate, Hellfire and Orbit, his fleshy cards circling around the four heroes.

It was then that Computron made himself known, revealing Flash's location, a giant energy conductor, which seemed to absorb Cyber Knight's nanites. Then Flash presented the heroes with a difficult choice: destroy the conductor with him inside, or watch as Computron took control of every conceivable piece of tech, practically handing control of the world to him in the process. And then there was Double Down, raining down his cards of death upon the group, making any sort of retaliation impossible. That is, unless someone wanted to get ripped to shreds. And Hellfire was willing to take that chance. He turned to face his teammates, about to tell them of his new plan.

"I'm going to fly at DD and hit him as hard as I can. I'll put some flame on my hands, they should burn him pretty badly. Hopefully he'll be distracted and his attacks'll lessen, at least enough for you three, er, four, to make a run for Flash. I'll keep Double Down fighting me long enough for you to figure out what to do. Got it?" he said, a bit too commanding for his liking. Not waiting for a response, he launched himself at DD, his black flames covering his fists, hot enough to give a human third degree burns.

Cards cut through his armour, scratching his skin. Blood oozed out of the scrapes. But Hellfire kept flying at DD, not once backing down. Arms extended out in front of him in a classic Superman pose, his fiery fists met with Double Down's face, severely burning it. But instead of the scream of pain Hellfire was expecting, there was a chuckle.

"Did you really think I'd be hurt by that, kid? My cards tear off my skin every time I use them. But you're gonna to have to pay for what you did to my face," said Double Down, his face now unrecogniseable.

"It's not like there was much to look at in the first place," retorted Hellfire, preparing for the fight that was about to ensue.

"I've never been much for face cards anyway!" Double Down screamed with an insane laugh following, "AH HAHA HA HAHAHA HA HAAAAA!"

The raw power of Shock and Patriot rippled the air around them, laying the villain even lower. Plastic man's hydro jet looked powerful enough to cut through steel, and judging from the cries of pain coming from Shrapnel that was exactly what was happening. Bast's plan had worked well, the pack coming together beautifully to put their adversary down. Fenrir nodded slightly in appreciation of the simplicity involved, a simple diversion and this fight was nearly over. He may be the strongest, but he was almost certain she was the smartest.

Plas's stream had slowed now, his reserve of water run dry, but by that point it didn't look like Shrapnel was getting back up anytime soon. Between the moisture and Shock's lightning it almost smelt like the aftermath of a summer storm, the pleasurable smell making Fenrir's nose twitch even as he hefted the heavy tree still in his hands. He looked down at the prone figure of Shrapnel, the wolf in him scorning the metal man, but the human in him full of pity. The feral metahuman wasn't sure why the villain had chosen to go on a rampage, didn't know why he had decided to endanger so many lives. Whatever Shrapnel's reason Fenrir was certain that it didn't justify the terror he had put so many innocents through, but he still pitied the metallic giant, and thought the best thing for him now was to be handed into the authorities. The wolf in him though, it believed in crushing its enemies so they couldn't attack again. It was the wolf that made the decision to strike the prone villain, to put a definitive end to his menace.

The tree came down in a mighty overhand swing, trunk smashing into Shrapnel with so much force that the pavement underneath him made an audible crack even as the metal man groaned for mercy. Fenrir lifted his makeshift club, only to bring it crashing down once again, the sound of contact booming like thunder. This time Shrapnel barely shuddered. Again the tree went into the air, and again Fenrir struck. This time the tree itself broke in two. The wolfman left it where it was, strewn across his enemy lying pathetically in the dirt.

He could feel his blood rising, a ringing in his head that sounded like a distant howl. His senses started going into overdrive, nose being flooded with the tangy scent of spilt blood, ears picking up the individual heartbeats from his pack. His fingers itched and tingled, mouth salivating intensely with the anticipation. His vision started to go red, ready for the kill. Desperately the man inside his Fenrir's hybrid body tried to fight his primal urges. A battle raged in his head, as real and as dangerous as the one his pack had just fought, between man and beast. Slowly his vision blurred, the here and the now mixing with memories long past.

A clinically clean white room, bright lights that provide no shadow to hide in. A boy, weak and starving, huddled in a corner, stinking of fear. There was no escape, for either Fenrir or the boy. A voice echoes out, strong, strict yet devoid of warmth.

"You are a monster. We know it. That child knows it. You know it. Why fight it? Give in to your base desires, become what you are meant to be. The weak must perish so that the strong can thrive. That child is weak, and you are strong. You could become the strongest, but first you must give in!" And so the voice goes on like, until he feels he can take no more and is forced to surrender what feels like the last of his humanity. His mouth fills with blood and flesh, warm and sticky down his throat. He feels like he should gag, but nothing has ever tasted sweeter. Then nothing, except for his shame and his horror and the sick dread of what he has done, and what he would have to do again. Of what he would do to Shrapnel. Of what he would do to anyone who gets in his way. . .

Then another voice, strong and commanding. A voice that would brook no argument, but filled with patience and understanding. Hawkman. This too was a memory, but unlike the last it was a treasured memory, one that spoke of hope.

"Control dammit, you need to have control. You can be a savage and win every battle you fight, but then you'll just become like the ones you fight. No, the way forward is to control your savagery, harness it and use it. You'll never be like Superman, hell you wont even be like Batman, but when you learn what I have to teach you that wont matter, you wont be a monster, you'll be your own hero. Now CONTROL IT!"

The words faded, but the lesson didn't. Fenrir took several deep lungful's of air, forcing his breathing back under control. Slowly the world came back into focus, the library, his pack, the broken tree lying across the defeated Shrapnel, thankfully still alive. Shame filled him, and he was forced to look away, but looking away is not the same as forgetting. Perhaps the first voice was right, and Hawkman was wrong. Maybe he was a monster. . .

Orbit couldn't deflect the cards that Double Down was shooting. They did slow down when they hit her barrier, but it wasn't enough to completely stop their cutting power. Orbit had several deep scratches on her purple armor, and was struggling to strengthen the shield and protect what was left of the team. Then Hellfire turned to them, and divulged his sacrificial lamb plan. He was gone before she could open her mouth to protest.

"Hell?! HELL! IF YOU GET HURT, I AM GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS!" but she could only watch him fly off into battle.

His plan worked- as she watched Hellfire's fired-up fists hit home, the barrage of cards dropped.

"Fate, Ditto and company, Cyb-" She blinked, realizing Cyber was not there, "Let's make this quick. Get Flash, get out. Shield dropping in three... two... GO!" she let the barrier of force drop, wincing at the pain in her head.

She started running, full sprint for the energy conductor. As Orbit's body moved, her mind flew into overdrive. There had to be some way to shut down the conductor and spare the Flash at the same time. Her adrenaline fueled brain started to pull up and discard possibilities as she closed the distance.

Ditto absorbed his two duplicates and then rereleased them as if giving them all a second wind. It was not the first time he'd ever used this trick and it surely woudn't be his last. Getting at the machine the three Dittos began striking the machinations around the device. Anything that resembled a control pad, or generally just something that looked like it shouldn't be in a car part manufacturer's factory. With the combined strength of the three Dittos they managed to rip a large piece of machinery out of something in the factory and threw it at the glass cylinder around the Flash. One of the sharp corners pierced the glass, coincidentally it wasn't bulletproof as it was made from materials found at other factories in the immediate area. Unbreakable glass factory was not one of them.

"I GOT IN, WE GOT...." one of the Ditto's began screaming until the conductor blew up knocking everyone around back and ripping the Flash and his lightning producing aura apart, seemingly out of existence.

Jin was about to add her own strike to the crack in the glass chamber, but it blew up before she could get in close. Reflexively, she shielded herself, causing several shards of glass and chunks of metal to bounce off of thin air. It didn't protect her from the heat or force of the blast, though, and she was thrown onto her backside, hard. After struggling to her feet "FLASH?!" The conductor was empty and in pieces. There was no sign of the Flash. "...oh, oh no." The horror made her voice choke. "No, no.." She rushed toward the scene of the explosion, feeling pain in her side that was somehow distant and unimportant.

Minutes later...

The head of Computron was roughly two blocks away now floating fast as is if he'd known his time was almost up. Lightning cracked all around and after a few moments of agony thunder boomed and there was the Flash once more. There was electricity in the air and lightning in all directions. Barry Allen, now a little older, walked through the picoseconds as if time was no longer a factor. And it wasn't. After the light show the Flash had put on to make Computron piss his virtual pants, it only took touching Computron's crown to fry his circuits and it took Barry a fraction of a second to achieve it after he seemingly took a victory walk in another fraction of the same second.

Minutes earlier...

Ditto became whole once more as the heroes picked themselves up from the explosion. After witnessing Orbit almost give a William Shatner like pain pose Ditto didn't know what to think exactly. The Flash had been a Justice League member now since the beginning. He could withstand an explosion surely... right? Suddenly the thunder boomed.

"...and boom goes the dynamite! Isn't that what the guy said... that guy on the Family Guy? Whatshisname? I've only seen six or seven of the episodds now... did I say that right?" Ditto asked with a grin knowing the good guys won.

~KL~/Dizzy

The fight with Double Down was over before it began, and now Hellfire watched as Ditto acted before he thought, destroying the machine that held the Flash instead of seeking to deactivate it. He saw the machine explode, Flash within it, saw Flash turn into nothingness. Enraged, Hellfire walked towards Ditto, body tense with anger.

"Ditto! What the hell was that? You could have killed Flash! Even worse, you could've hurt Orbit! You need to use your head, man! This almost got Flash killed!" he yelled at his older teammate, unable to keep a lid on his anger....

Thunder booms...

"...and BOOM goes the dynamite! Isn't that what the guy said... that guy on the Family Guy? Whatshisname? I've only seen six or seven of the episodes now... did I say that right?" Ditto asked with a grin knowing the good guys won, "He's a Justice Leaguer who happens to be made out of lightning who's been doing this for years, of course he was going to make it out alive...." Ditto responded in a slight douchebag tone.

Somewhere in Florida, on the opposite side of the 'States...

Aquaman, known as Arthur Curry on the surface world has seen better days. It's been over a year since Black Manta killed his wife. Over a year since Arthur killed Manta. Over a year since he'd quit the Justice League. He looked worn, unshaven for weeks, and stunk like bad sea water. He paid his tab at a local beach bar with a couple golden Atlantean coins, something he'd done often. However on his long and lonely walk back to his nearby lighthouse he was approached by a shadowy figure.

"Hello, Arthur. It's been too long, pitty you're past your prime..." the man said before pulling out a blade and gutting the former sea king like a fish.

One week later, the undeground HQ...

Booster Gold had come to keep watch over the young heroes of Star City. While some of them don't know what's going on, those with closer ties to Superman and Batman were informed and later would tell the others. Deathstroke, superhuman mercenary and the rumored killer of Green Arrow, had returned and cut a drunk Aquaman nearly in half up his torso with some enchanted blade. Something that could possibly do the same to Superman. Or anyone for that matter. Ditto2 approached Booster who was keeping on guard in the monitor/meeting room...

"Booster, Supes mentioned that Deathstroke may have returned but after finally learning to read English the file had noted Slade Wilson was killed in a riot at the Supermax Metahuman Prison. His remains autopsied by the authorities AND the League...." Ditto began.

"What are you thinking Triple Kid?" Booster asked, not sounding too impressed.

"It's Ditto, sir. And I was thinking it may be an imposter..." the Carggite continued before being cut short.

"You don't think the League's thought of that? Whoever it is he killed Aquaman. He could have been responsible for Arrow's death too. Now Wonder Woman is in intensive care at the Watchtower because she was found on a small island neighboring Themyscira and attacked. She survived but it was all Superman could do to get the Amazons to let us take care of her with our advanced healing tech..." Booster informed the young alien before hearing a noise in an unknown corner of the underground base.

"You hear that, Boost.." Ditto2 began to say before a sniper shot was fired going through the arm of Ditto and into the leg of the seated Booster.

Their screams could be heard by nearly everyone, save for any young heroes in the War Room.



GG/~KL~

After the mission in Central City, Gabe had assessed his wounds. None of them were too bad, but there were two cuts on his arms that needed stitches, and his supersuit needed some touching up from all the cuts Double Down's cards had inflicted. Lucky he had a spare.

Both he and Jin had found out from Batman about Aquaman's murder at the supposed hands of Deathstroke. But Slade Wilson was dead. Gabe had run through all the possibilities of who the killer was- he had come to the conclusion that there were only two plausible ones- either that Slade Wilson had somehow survived, or that it was an impostor. But Gabe was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Jin landed a kick into his ribs. They were in the War Room, sparring each other.

"Where's your head, Gaby-baby?" Jin flashed her teeth at him as she danced back and wound up for another strike. "I started that kick last Tuesday!" Central City had set Jin back a bit, not that she'd told anyone. Landing on her back in the scrapyard had definitely bruised a rib, if not caused a mild fracture. It only hurt when she breathed, and the bruises meant she wouldn't be running around with no shirt for a long time.

Pain was fleeting, though. What bothered her more is that one of their team members had been basically eaten alive. Even though she hadn't really gotten to know Cyber- none of them had- death was death. It just made her realize that any of them could be snatched away in an instant. That thought alone was enough to make her train ever harder, and sleep ever less. There were dark circles under her eyes that almost matched the tint of the bruising on her side.

"Wake up, Gabe. Inattention is pain! Sleep is death!" She feinted another kick and lashed out with her opposite foot in a stomp.

"Oh, I'm awake, Jin. Believe me," Gabe retorted. He wondered where this mindset of Jin's had come from- sure, she could be serious, but not that serious. Something was bothering her. Pushing Deathstroke out of his mind, Gabe instead focused his mind on trying to figure out what was bothering Jin. Beating her in a fight would come later.

Thinking Jin would follow through with her feint, Gabe lifted his leg to block with his shin. But, quickly realising that the feint was just that, he switched feet, only barely dodging Jin's foot stomp. Off balance, Gabe swiftly attempted a spinning hook kick to Jin's head, knowing full well that she would take advantage of his lack of balance.

"Tch. I hope you're sleeping!" She darted back out of his range and ducked him low, quickly trying to sweep his leg. Since he was already unsteady, it was simple to drop him. Once he was on the ground, she straddled him, her knee to the hollow of his throat. There she carefully rested her weight. Enough to keep him pinned without causing pain, but easy enough to start applying pressure. "You had better be thinking of something real important, because it'd be a shame if you start sucking." She raised a fist and brought it down in a stabbing motion, right to his eye. Stopping millimeters from his eyelash, she looked down at him.

Her black eyes were ringed with dark circles of exhaustion. The fist she held above his face trembled lightly, as if her fine muscles weren't quite under control. Silently, she glared at her partner, her friend, the one person she trusted beyond any other in the known universe. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as her jaw clenched. Slowly she brought her fist down, to rest briefly against Gabe's eye, blocking his vision completely.

"I just killed you, Gabe." Her voice shook. "You're dead... so whatever's on your mind, it's not more important than your life." In one motion, she rolled off of his body and stood away from him.

Gabe stood up. His concern for Jin was overflowing in his mind. The way she spoke to him just then... It was as if he actually did die. He took a step closer to Jin, his eyes searching for hers.

"Hey... I'm still here. We're just training. But... Are you okay, Jin? Something's bothering you. Let me help you. You can tell me," he said, his brain repeating the same thought, over and over: What's wrong with Jin is she okay what's wrong with Jin is she okay.

Jin's eyes were slightly unfocused, as if she was here, and yet not. For all her talk about being focused on the fight, she didn't seem to be quite aware of everything at this particular moment. Her hands hung limply at her sides, and her fingers twitched slightly every so often. "I'm fine, Gabe. Just haven't slept in a bit, that's all." Even though she wasn't lying, it was clear that the truth wasn't there either.

Lack of sleep, she said... the most common cause for lack of sleep was stress. Was Jin stressed? Maybe all this superhero team business was taking its toll on her. It was then that Gabe decided to hopefully relieve her from the stress. He'd been planning to do this anyway, but now seemed like as appopriate a time as ever.

"You know, Jin... I've been getting a bit tired of this superhero work, and I think that you deserve a bit of a break. So, I've been thinking... Do you want to maybe go watch a movie? You know, to eat some popcorn, sit in comfy seats and forget about all this... Even if it's just for an hour or two. How does that sound?"

Jin seemed to come back to the room a bit, and she peered at him curiously. "I... I guess we could see something, if they don't give us crap about leaving the base. I was meaning to drag you to that new comedy about the two guys and the monkey." A weary, but definitely grateful smile appeared on her face, and for a moment, the old Jin was there. "I'm buying." She'd earned a decent amount of money on the back streets of Star City. A few sleepless hours at night caused her to dig for her old leather motorcycle jacket and gloves. After a few more wardrobe adjustments, a pair of colored contacts, and washout dye for her hair, she hit the bars and alleys after midnight, when everyone else was sleeping. Batman had forbidden her from stealing, but he'd never said anything about hustling a few pool games. She had money to spare.

"You buy? Okay then... Sure. It's a date then," he said, before panicking at his choice of wording. "I mean, if you want it to be a date, or it could just be us as friends watching the movie, it's up to you, really..." he said, the words speeding out of his mouth, cheeks turning bright red. Man, this was awkward. Or maybe Gabe just didn't know how to speak to the strange creatures that were girls. Either way, Gabe was embarrassed way beyond redemption. The only way he could possibly redeem himself was to take his wallet anyway and at least buy the popcorn and drinks.

Jin's smile faltered at Gabe's stammering. "...isn't it always just us watching a movie together? You know Bats hates fiction." She reached out and lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go before someone catches us leaving." She headed to the door of the War Room and opened it. Almost immediately, her instincts rang out that something was wrong. And then she heard the screaming.

As soon as Gabe heard the screaming, he ran to Jin. "Stay. Here." he commanded, holding her shoulders tightly, before proceeding to run out of the War Room and making his way to his room. It was time to suit up.

"...stay here, my sweet ass." Jin barely waited for Gabe to clear the room before she was on the stairs behind him. She dashed to her own room, her small feet barely touching the ground as she traveled. Her suit was on in less than a minute, and she slapped her orb belt around her waist. Where were the others? What was going on?

-Dizzy/GG-

The cracking of bone, the chewing of meat, the slurping noise as he swallowed. It all added up to sound like a monster in his lair, devouring some poor innocent soul who had the misfortune to stumble upon the creature. Thankfully though the monster was making due with no more than a raw leg of beef.

Fenrir was curled up in one of the corners of the base kitchen, enjoying his meal with the gusto that only an animal can. He made a soft growling noise as he chewed, his mind wandering as his body worked through the mechanics of eating. The others hadn't said much to him after the incident with Shrapnel, but he was certain that was because many of them were still in shock after the death of Cyber Knight and the murder of Aquaman rather than his loss of control. These things bother Fenrir very little though. He had barely known Cyber, and what he had learnt of her had disturbed the big metahuman. She had possessed an artificial smell to her, and the cold demeanour of his former captors, and it had set Fenrir's hackles up whenever he had been forced to spend time with her. If he was to be honest he was happy she was gone, and felt the pack benefitted from her death, even if they couldn't see it like that now.

Fenrir hadn't even known Aquaman, so he couldn't even work up the emotional response to seem concerned about the former hero. Hawkman had told Fenrir that the Atlantean had once been a mighty warrior, though he had fallen on hard times as of late. This Fenrir could understand, after all the mighty always made enemies, and if a warrior didn't work to keep their edge they would live only long enough to regret it. Aquaman had lost his edge, and had paid the ultimate price for it. It was the way of nature, the wolfman understood this better than most. That was why he ate and slept now, to keep his strength up. Perhaps the rest of the pack couldn't smell it, but there was death in the air, waiting just around the corner for the young heroes. It was coming, and when it did Fenrir would be ready. He would protect his pack, even if he had to kill again to do it.

Suddenly a shot ripped the air, the sound magnified a thousand fold to Fenrir's powerful hearing. Bursting to his feet the big wolfman bounded down the hallway, silent as a vengeful ghost. The heady scent of blood met his nostrils, that of Ditto and Booster Gold. The wolfman kept going while busy trying to identify the smell of whoever it was attacking them, but even with his senses it was proving difficult.

He skidded to a halt at the side of Ditto2, screaming in pain at his arm wound. It looked like whoever had fired the round had managed to hit both Booster and Ditto2 with the one shot. Fenrir was confident he could survive a direct hit, but he needed to get the other two away, as lying where the where they made inviting targets. But where to go? The wolfman still hadn't zeroed in on the intruders scent. Taking several deep breaths through his nose he finally managed to filter the surrounding smells, and distinguish one that shouldn't be there, coming from the north corridor. . . but wait, there was another, from the south. And one more, eastwards. With a growing sense of disbelief Fenrir realised whoever was attacking had laid down dummy scents, to throw off his own sense's. He feral metahuman was at a loss at what to do, and didn't even know where to attack.

"What do I do!" he growled angrily, as much to Ditto2 as to himself.

The original Ditto as well as Ditto3 were in their quarters, slightly bigger than most of the other's save for Fenrir, room for three in case Ditto needed to do some Carggite related stuff and separate. After an intense game of paper/rock/scissors for the last piece of BBQ chicken Ditto2 forgot, an eerie silence had swept through the HQ, as if somebody had opened the emergency exit tunnel leading about a block out from the abandoned Queen Industries building above the base. After their telepathic-like link had let them in on Booster being the slightest bit hateful, a shot from a high powered rifle rang through the otherside of the base. Since Ditto1 is the 'prime' Ditto he feels the other's pain when it is something severe. He clinched his own left arm in pain for a few moments before the shock wore off.

"There's an intruder in the base..." Ditto1 said, "..and our brother's been hurt..." he continued as the two ran out of their room just behind Orbit and Hellfire.

Across the HQ, in the Monitor Room...

Booster Gold took cover behind a tossed over table and chairs along with Ditto2 before the wolfman came to their side.

"What do I do!" he growled angrily, as much to Ditto2 as to himself.

"Booster's leg still has the bullet in it and he's bleeding out, I think I've just got a flesh wound. We need to get to the infirmary. The other Ditto's are on their way along with Hellfire and Orbit...." Ditto2 began before Booster cut him off.

"This doesn't involve them..." he muttered through the pain, "THIS DOESN'T INVOLVE THEM!" he then screamed at Deathstroke, or rather the person who would dress as him.

"They all HAD to die. You HAVE to die. Only the big threats left after you Michael, Superman, Wonder Woman, and that kid that turns into Shazam. That's why I brought this blade forged by the original Doctor Fate himself...." the man that would be Deathstroke spoke out as he readied an automatic sub-machine gun, a little loud with his voice but not a regular tone unless on the other side of a room.

"WE KNOW YOU'RE NOT SLADE WILSON! YOUR AIM SUCKS!" screamed Ditto1 as he and the others exited a nearby corridor, "Where in the three suns is that Patriot guy when you need him?" he spoke under his breath.

Ditto2 began to answer Fenrir's question, but the big beast wasn't listening. His attention was completely focused on the black and orange armoured figure that had strutted into view. The wolfman could feel his rage building, bubbling to the surface. Again his pack had been attacked, this time by a fool who dared enter their home. It would be a mistake that the interloper wouldn't repeat. With a bloodcurling howl Fenrir dashed across the room right at Deathstroke, meaning to tear the mercenary's throat out and put a decisive end to this fight before it even got a chance to begin. But the enemy was locked and loaded with the automatic gun in one hand firing three second bursts making his way towards the center of the monitor room high above in the rafters and lighting fixtures to keep distance between himself and the beast. He pulled the enchanted blade on the off-chance the wolfman followed him to the area high above the rest of the inner hub of the HQ.

~KL~/BlackSam

Patriot was in his room getting ready to write more about his and the team's encounter with Shrapnel, when his superhuman senses picked up the screams of Ditto and Booster Gold. He knew that something must be wrong, and that meant that there must be an intruder in the base. Thomas quickly put down his journal and decided to disregard the damage he was going to cause the walls of HQ and flew at incredible speeds, smashing through one wall after another, heading straight for the place where he had heard the screams. As he smashed through the walls with great ease, Patriot hoped that the League wouldn't severely punish him for damaging the team's base. He soon smashed through the wall that lead into the area where Booster Gold, Ditto and Fenrir were, and he quickly assessed the situation.

His eyes caught the sight of Deathstroke, or Slade Wilson as he was called, Thomas had learned about him from his creators at Cadmus and was well aware of how dangerous of a criminal the mercenary could be. He also saw that Booster Gold and Ditto where hurt and were in need of help. First, Patriot would try to deal with Slade, and so the here charged up a blast of energy in his hands. He fired it right at Deathstroke and if it hit then it would create a powerful explosion. He wanted to keep his distance and use his energy attacks since the villain had killed Aquaman who was one of the most powerful League members and Thomas wasn't sure if he was even close to being half as strong as the king of Atlantis.

Phil surveyed the mix of ancient tomes and modern occult scholarship amassed on his desk. Idly, he thought about the fight a week ago in Central City. Man, Orbit is such a bad-ass. I wonder if she could teach me some of her moves. I still feel like such a klutz around the rest of these heroes. God, I heard Bast was pretty kick-ass too, and she doesn't even have powers. What am I doing with this thing?

Gazing at the Helm of Nabu brought his mind back to the present. A day after the fight, Zatanna had asked him to do some research for her. I thought it was strange when she asked. She hasn't even tried to contact me since she dropped me off at this new group. Frankly, I think Zatanna was relieved to get rid of me; she's not exactly the nurturing type. She gave me a couple artifacts to research, but doubtless she's after this enchanted blade. Doubly doubtless it's the same blade that gutted Aquaman. But she's didn't tell me that. "Just a little project to get your feet wet in the local occult culture," she claimed. Does she not trust me? I had to find out about Aquaman from the others. Ironic that Batman trusts his apprentices more than Zatanna trusts me.

Phil scowled at his reflection in the Helmet of Fate. This research is going no where. Just rumors and myths, like always. All I can find is what we already know: sharp as hell and made by Nabu. I wish I could just ask him about the sword, but I haven't heard from him since the day I put the Helm. Maybe if I--

Shots rang out, interrupting the thought. Instantly snatching up the Helm, Phil bolted out of his room, only to skid to a stop. The blast doors are down. This must be big. Good thing walls won't stop me. Phil called up the powers of Nabu, and was gone in a flash of light, instantly teleported across the headquarters. He hadn't thought of a specific place to teleport; he had learned to let Fate decide.

When the world came back into focus, Phil saw two familiar faces: Hellfire and Orbit. "Hey, wait up! What's going on?"

Meanwhile elsewhere...

Luke quietly left the theater, flipping his coat up onto his shoulder as he held it with an index finger.  The night seemed quiet and uneventful, so hearing about a classical symphony performance Luke got a private balcony seat.  The show itself was quite good, a great run of classic pieces.  None of that stuck with him though, it was the others in attendance.  When the conductor mentioned him being in attendance during the show there was a little polite applause, but the muffled giggles, the condescending smiles at him, the stupid freak failure of a hero.  It ruined any enjoyment he had as he sunk into his seat somewhat and hoped people forgot he was there.  Fiddling with the gray tie on his white dress shirt Luke sighed, wondering if he should go back to base or maybe stroll around the city, try to find something either entertaining or heroic he could do.

As Luke walked down the busy nightlife filled streets of Star City, past the recently finished statue honoring Green Arrow, hearing an occasional heckle at him that stung him deep.  He finally turned a corner, his head down but tilted enough that out of the corner of his eye.  He saw someone moving with something large in tow.  It looked suspicious and for someone who was a hero needing to escape the public eye for a moment, it was perfect.  Looking around quickly Luke slipped on the orange tinted shades that were in his coat pocket.  Though he had his uniform on under his nice dress clothes.  He couldn't decide where to change without looking like someone the police should have a word with.  Finding nearby but horrifyingly disgusting dumpsters Luke groaned deep but got low behind them.  VERY carefully getting his nice dress clothes off and making sure his hero costume was on right.  He realized he didn't have anywhere to hold his dress clothes, so quickly he improvised, finding a relatively clean fast food paper bag and stuffing them in.  Tucking them behind the dumpster and silently praying to Jesus, Buddha, and even Allah that they'll be there when he gets back.

It was feeling like some weird game, whoever this burglar was, they had to know he was following them as they'd seemingly wait for him to get close enough to see, then scurry off to some other location.  Finally Luke was able to track the possible criminal down to some small abandoned business that was boarded up.  Not seeing an easy way in Luke carefully used an opening in one of the boarded up windows to snake his body in.  When he reformed Luke glanced around what looked like an old convenience store.  Though by now all that was left were a few shelves and a red chair resting near one of the walls. Carefully Luke stepped through the area, trying to keep his head on a metaphorical and literal swivel as it rotated in place on him. “Hello? Anyone here?” Luke cautiously asked aloud stopping for a moment. He didn't see anyone but when he turned away and back again he swore the chair moved. He paused, looking at It in confusion before looking away again to suddenly feel something tightly wrapping around him like a snake.

“Buddy! We need to talk for a moment about your entrance planning...” Luke suddenly heard behind him as he realized the chair had moved and was now coiling around him like a snake, leaving him too frightened and borderline paralyzed to move. “You just don't go into suspicious places and call out like that. Don't you realize bad things happen when people do that? Haven't you ever watched a horror film... well no... no you clearly haven't.” Finally Luke turned and the face stretched around right near his had white goggles, a razor sharp chin, and grinned at him all the while. “Hey.” He responded. Luke responded back by screaming.

“Hey man watch the decibels will ya?” Another voice and it led to Luke suddenly having his mouth wrapped in a more flesh colored tone. “Luke where is your costume? I thought we agreed we'd be in costume for this?!” Luke suddenly and finally realized what was going on, right now... Plastic Man had him trapped. The actual Plastic Man... Plastic Man number one.

Confused what Plastic Man was talking about Luke himself was going to say something when he both realized he was still being gagged and another guy came into the scene. His arm outstretched and the source of Luke's silencing. Unlike his dad though was only in jeans, and a t-shirt that said 'Touch My Awesome Button'. “Sorry dad I told you I can't find it.” He awkwardly muttered shrugging with his other shoulder. “Oh well fine, fine, we can work with this.” Plastic Man looked a little dejected before his son interjected, “Uh should we?” He asked pointing at Luke himself. “Oh right... sorry. Well hopefully you know who I am... as you've taken my name and all. This is my son Luke, no relations I think. You can call him Offspring.” “Sup.” “Now we just wanted to chat with you, so if you promise to not scream and be a girl about this I promise we'll let you go. Deal?” As Luke realized what was going on, Plastic Man and his son Offspring clearly not hostile... not yet at least. Luke finally nodded and felt both of them release their grips on him. Both Plastic Man and Offspring took a seat down on their hands, Luke realized that Plastic Man was still in his iconic gear. The red suit with the openings on the front and black, the same yellow and black belt design Luke now adorned, the... somewhat unsettling short shorts. Luke started to look around for something to sit down on before he could hear Plastic Man and Offspring both moan and sigh. “Oh come on seriously?” Plastic Man asked aloud, gesturing to both him and his son until Luke realized what he was talking about. Making sure to make his own seat but using one of his legs. “There, now... Luke Thomas right?” Plastic Man asked. “How did...” Luke was immediately cut off. “Dude, everyone knows who you are. I mean you were headline news a year ago.” Offspring reminded Luke, which brought back unpleasant memories. “Well enough about that, lets get to the point here.” Plastic Man leaned back in the chair of himself. “See, here's the thing. I'm not mad about losing the Plastic Man name, I'm not even mad about the fact he patented it...” “Well you kind of were though da...” “Let me finish son.” Plastic Man didn't even look Offspring's way gesturing to him with a single index finger.

“Point is, I've been watching you. Not in a creepy Sting of The Police kind of way, but keeping an eye on you and your adventures or lack thereof. I'm not mad about losing the name, but if someone is going to take it from me, I expect something a bit more... non-sad about the person who took it.” Plastic Man shrugged as Luke wanted to object, but hung his head. “Hey sorry but I never wanted to do this. I mean Hell if it was all up to me I wouldn't even be here or doing any of this...” Luke pleaded his case gesturing to himself. “I totally understand you not being that okay with me Mister uh...” “Plastic is fine.” “Mr. Plastic, but...” Luke couldn't bring himself to talk anymore. Plastic Man and Offspring noticed and both scooted up a little closer. “Hey man believe me, if I had it my way years ago, I would still be some low life criminal running around Gotham thinking what a bad ass he was.” Plastic Man stated, clearly not sounding that proud of what he was saying. “But there's a reason that whole 'things happen for a reason' idea exists.” Plastic Man patted Luke on his shoulder with an outstretched arm. “Hey point is, I want to see you succeed kid, we both do. Being Plastic Man saved my life, its not something I take lightly, even if I take most things lightly. Thing is, you have the name now, you have the legacy. Its not a Batman or a Superman legacy granted but its a legacy.”

Plastic Man's word did strike a chord with Luke but he still sighed. “Yeah but its a legacy I suck at.” Luke told the two, though Offspring clearly and audibly with a whiff dismissed him before speaking up. “I mean in that first year sure. But ever since Giganta brought you into the Young Justice thingy you seem to be doing better. I mean you helped take down Icicle until everyone else tried to legally murder him, then you just helped beat what's his face...” “Shrapnel?” “Yeah walking Bic razor blade guy...” “Yep that's the one...” Luke chuckled at the back and forth the father and son were having. Offspring's joke reminding him of having the exact same thought during the battle. “Look, stop being so down on yourself man, if you suck we'll be the first ones to tell you.” Plastic Man proudly told Luke who raised an eyebrow, “Uh... thanks?”

As the night went on the three elastic heroes continued to talk. Plastic Man told Luke all about the adventures him and Offspring have been going on ever since Plastic Man left the Justice League. Going into stories of when he was with the team, a lot of which involving Batman Luke noticed. Still though it was all an experience Luke wasn't used too feeling in years. Being around them made him relaxed, having a smile on his face as he listened to the both of them going on and on, Luke himself even chiming in with stories about his dad that got some laughs. Finally both Offspring and Plastic Man decided it was time to go.

“Listen Luke... you seem like a great kid, don't worry about this stuff man. You're Plastic Man now.” The original Plastic Man reminded Luke as Offspring was already on his way out. “Thanks.” Luke smiled a bit giving Plastic Man a nod. “We're going to head out of town, I promised him a trip to Disney World and I intend to go through with that promise. But we'll keep an eye on you. Go out there and make me proud kid.” Plastic Man after saying that was about to leave out the back with his son before Luke stopped him, gently grabbing his shoulder with a stretched arm. “Wait before you go....” Luke started, “While we were talking, you sounded like you knew my dad quite a bit, how?” Plastic Man frowned a bit, finally he tipped down his goggles so he could look Luke eye to eye. “I'm not going to get into that now, since its a LONG story. But lets just say you and me have more in common than just a name kid.” Plastic Man was about to leave again until he stopped. “Actually while we're on last second questions...” Luke tilted his head a little wondering what the hero was going to ask.

“Does Mr. Plastic sound like a good name? I do need something now that I can't use Plastic Man publicly anymore.”

Luke paused, finally pondering the question with a hand on his chin. “Eh, bit of a stretch.” The two looked at one another before Plastic Man pointed at Luke with a smile. “You'll do just fine kid!” They both laughed before finally Plastic Man was gone. Luke felt the smile on his face seem almost permanent, not that he'd be crazy enough to get it off himself. Still it was hard for him to get over the meeting, he only wished he could have a dad like Offspring did, lucky guy.

Luke ran back over to the dumpster, all the while striding along and feeling a joyful high he hadn't felt in years. Finally when he got to the dumpster he looked around and couldn't find the paper bag with his clothes in it. Sighing he glanced around at the street before him before smirking. “Well... at least some homeless guy's going to look nice tonight.” He muttered to himself.

"You claim your father's pathetic name, and you show yourself to be equally incapable." The Voice came in thunderous bursts that sent chills down Alex's spine. He opened his eyes, not remembering when he had shut them, and looked around. That had been a mistake. He was on the lip of a massive chasm. Below him, he could see a large mass of movement. A river, he thought, sitting up. The sky above him was a dark, sickly green, and hung heavy with black clouds that moved abnormally fast, even though he felt no breeze.

"Where am I?" He tried to ask aloud, but his voice was raspy and hoarse, and he coughed instead, falling back to his knees. He felt so weak, drained, as if he had been running for days with no rest.

"You know where you are. Surely the Amazonian whelps taught you enough to recognize my domain." The booming voice came again, but it was quieter now, and somehow, closer. Then, abruptly, another voice chimed in.

"Let me kill him. I could not get my hands on his uncle, but he is within my grasp. He is weak, more so here than anywhere else. It would be foolish not to strike him down now. In single combat." This voice was closer, as if it were standing just beside him. Eyes widening in realization, Alex looked to his left to see a young man, clad in black armour, with a horned helmet, ebony skin, and eyes red as blood. He recognized the visage, but couldn't speak. The fear showed in his eyes.

"I see you recognize your uncle." The other voice came again, "Maybe the whores of Themyscira did teach you something. This voice's owner now materialized next to the black-clad man. A young boy, it seemed, with six candles on his head in place of hair, the melted wax covering his eyes, "And no, Ares," The boy continued speaking, "We will not kill him. My plans are far grander in scale than merely killing one of my brother's mortal grandchildren. This one will serve us better alive."

The black-armoured man, who Alex recognized now as Ares, the God of War, growled angrily and balled his fists at his sides, but said nothing. The young boy stepped forward toward Alex, and reached out with a pale hand, stroking his face.

"You are weak here, in my realm. Too weak to fight, to pose a threat, to resist." On 'resist' the boy grabbed Alex by the throat with a grip that was more powerful than he could have predicted, and began to choke him. Alex struggled, trying with all of his remaining might to wrench the boy's hand off of his throat, but he couldn't. The boy's shape had changed. He now stood as a horrifying monster, much taller than Alex, holding him dangling off of the ground by his neck. The monster's disturbingly long neck inclined towards Alex, it's hideous face stopping just in front of his. For a moment, the creature simply paused there, watching the life slowly draining from Alex's eyes as he stopped his struggle, then, as Alex's mouth fell open in a choking grimace, the beast heaved as if it were going to vomit. It heaved once more, and suddenly a thick black smoke exploded from the beast's mouth, blasting Alex in the face. The smoke moved with a mind of it's own, traveling up Alex's nose and down his throat, into his gut. It was terrible and acrid, but Alex had no choice but to inhale it.

"Breathe it all in." The beast who was now a boy again, said with a smile as he let Alex drop to his knees near the lip of the chasm. Alex couldn't help but oblige. Ares said nothing during this exchange, watching with his arms folded over his chest. As Alex gasped in the last few wisps of black smoke, the boy approached him again at the lip of the chasm, laid a hand on his shoulder, and nudged him slightly, pushing him over the ledge toward the thousand-foot drop. As Alex fell, he couldn't scream. He had lost whatever was left of his voice to the acrid black smoke. He merely stared at the water in the canyon below him. No, he noticed, not water. What he had taken for waves earlier turned out to be a massive sea of people, decaying and dead, but still moving and swaying like a giant ocean of corpses. It was then that he knew where he was, and who he had just met. One body below him stood out from the rest. It was his, and it wasn't moving. It was laying solemnly in a hospital bed. It seemed terribly out-of-place here, and Alex realized he was falling directly for it.

Alex held his breath for impact, and smacked straight into his body with the force of a fall from thousands of feet high.

---

"What did you do to him, Hades?" Ares asked, looking out over the chasm into the sea of the dead. The war god had intended to kill the whelp, but Hades always had other plans.

"I merely planted the seed, Ares." The boy who was Hades said, "Cultivating it is your job. I will explain later." And with that, he disappeared, leaving the Ares to contemplate the arrangement the two gods had made.

---

Apollo awoke with a start, sitting upright and gasping for air. He took two looks to either direction and realized he was in the infirmary, and then he had to lean over the side of his bed to throw up. He groaned, hearing the intruder alarms blaring. All he remembered was being decked by Doomsday in the War Room. What was happening now? Why was the alarm blaring? How long had he been out? Slowly, he got out of the gurney and stood up, feeling more than a little exposed in the hospital gown. He stepped into the hallway to see what was going on.

"Ditto?" He called, "Plastic Man? Hellfire? Where is everyone? What's going on?"

The slugs from Deathstroke's rifle punched into Fenrir's muscled chest, with enough force to knock the beast back a step or two. Not enough to kill him, but more than enough to enrage him even more. The wolfman was more determined than ever to tear the foolish intruder's face off, to shatter his bones and shred his flesh. The cowardly mercenary fled upwards towards the lighting fixtures and drew his sword, thinking he would be safe up there, or that perhaps Fenrir would fear the blade. The wolfman could smell the enchantment on the blade from here, the whiff of magic smelling to him like burning ozone. He had dealt with such weapons before, and yet here he stood. Deathstroke would have to try harder than that.

The big metahuman readied himself to leap up to the rafters, it would be an easy task for him, when he heard the crashing that sounded like thunder. He swung his head to face the source of the noise. Boom, boom boom, BOOM!

The wall bent inwards then exploded with brick and mortar flying at all angles, Patriot at the source of the disruption. The wolfman was momentarily stunned at his pack mates apparent stupidity. Did he not realise they were underground, with thousands, perhaps millions of tonnes of rock above them. Even with Fenrir's limited understanding of architecture he knew that the flying superhero could have seriously jeopardised the structural integrity of the base and endangered all their lives. Perhaps Patriot and Fenrir would survive the possible cataclysm, but not all their pack mates were as sturdy. The feral metahuman's powerful sense of hearing could already make out the faint cracking noises coming from Patriot's path of destruction. He figure it was only a matter of time until the base's roof collapsed, burying all of them under the unrelenting weight of rock and concrete. Panic began to grip the big metahuman. They had to finish up with Deathstroke quickly then get out, or else his entire pack would pay the price.

"Patriot!" he began to roar, meaning to warn the superhuman of the threat, but was cut off by Superman's protégé firing a powerful blast of energy at Deathstroke. The nimble mercenary dodged the blast, flipping from one support to the other with the grace of an experienced acrobat. Patriot's energy exploded though, ripping through the steel of the light fixtures. The metal made a horrible screeching noise before giving way, falling towards the floor, Fenrir standing directly below.

The wolfman managed one agitated growl before the remains of the fixture collapsed with a crash on top of him, burying Fenrir under a mound of twisted, half melted metal.

For the last couple of days, Veronica had been out as a sort of sidekick to her elder brother Virgil - Static. It had been good for her especially to learn how to concentrate power without passing out like days prior. Although she still felt faint from time to time, the collapsing is to the minimum. The duo forming Static Shock, helped the local police force with their work, gaining more trust. "You know you missed me bro!"Veronica winked, taking down a purple toxic shaped meta-human. He looked like the real life grimer. And smelled like it too.

"Yeah yeah, Shock. Just keep up the strength."He smiled, as he flew on over with his manhole cover. She smirked and nodded. In truth she really missed him, and the familial feelings. Yet at the same time, Veronica missed being with the young heroes crew...two characters in particular that she didn't care to admit for now. She decided she wouldn't dwell for now, and enjoy the time she had with Static.

Finally deciding to call since nobody felt fit to miss her, Shock gave in and picked up the phone. After the ten tries and no answers, she had a feeling something was wrong. "I think somethings up, Virgil."She said whispering over a family dinner. "Nobody from the crew is answering."

Virgil's face took on a troubled expression. "Ya better go see what's up, sis..." he started before their mom came out with the mashed potatoes. "...after dinner of course."As his mom gave them both a stern look after slaving over this food.

---

As she entered, it seemed oddly silent. "Sup guys?"She called out with no answer. She started to hear a slight alarm noise in the back, and became apprehensive. She turned to watch her back and pulled out her pipe, extended it, taking flight as if she were a witch. Receeding deeper in the the layout, she heard some groans, sounding like a large animal was hurt. An aerial view left little room for surprised. As she went deeper, she heard more groans. Something was definitely up, as she flew with a faster speed down the entrance.

A wave of nausea hit Phil as he staggered after Hellfire and Orbit. Teleporting normally makes me a little disoriented, but not this much. That's what I get when I teleport without a destination. I don't know what I was thinking. Trust Fate?

Images danced across Phil's eyes: dreams and memories both familiar and strange. He was at the first meeting of the Young Justice group; he surveyed half-finished pyramids from the air; Zatanna chastised him for letting one of the vampires escape; he battled a young sorcerer and his feline familiar. The images flashed faster and faster, discombobulating Phil. He didn't know where he was, or even when he was. Foreign memories seemed to invade his mind, but he tried to block them out. Stumbling, Phil crashed into a half-dress half-god.

"W-where am I?" Phil asked, trying to clear his head. I must be hallucinating, some side effect of the teleportation, the wizard thought. Zatanna always warned me that the most important rule in the mystical world was not to trust anything. That includes Fate.
"Apollo? I must be hallucinating still. I thought he was in a coma." Phil wasn't sure if he was thinking the words or saying them out loud.

Ditto and Booster Gold were shot. Patriot had crashed through walls, destroying them and weakening the base's structural strength. Fenrir was down, shot and buried underneath the lighting fixtures he'd detached from the ceiling. And the Deathstroke impostor was standing in front of the remaining young heroes, holding his rifle in his hands.

Hellfire clenched his fists, looking over his shoulder, surprised to see Apollo up and out of his coma along with Fate, Orbit, Patriot and the other two Dittos. Immediately Gabe came to the conclusion that his priority was to protect his teammates, to keep them from being harmed. If anything were to happen to them, he would never forgive himself, and he knew it. Especially if Orbit was hurt...

Looking back towards Deathstroke, Gabe thought of what he could do. He could attack using his flames, cranking the heat up to the point that everything would turn to dust. But he couldn't. There were his friends to think about. And if this was the real Deathstroke, Slade Wilson, Batman would not want him to engage. He'd want Gabe to run as far away as possible, to get out of the assassin's sight and hope he wasn't on his trail. But Gabe couldn't run. The base was underground, sealed away from the world above, and the way out would certainly be blocked by Deathstroke if anyone would try to get out. That, and Gabe wouldn't, couldn't, abandon his friends. So he came to the conclusion that the only thing he could possibly do was stall for time, wait until someone with the power to stand toe to toe against the enemy without jeopardising the team came.

"Don't make another move. Take one more step and I turn you to ash," he threatened, knowing full well Deathstoke would see through it.

"You wouldn't do that. You'd kill your teammates- your 'friends'- too. You wouldn't take their lives just to defeat me, would you?" said Deathstroke.

Hellfire hesitated to answer. Should he reply that he wouldn't, it would show a sign of weakness that Deathstroke would likely exploit. But should he reply that he would, the mercenary would expect him to follow through with it.

"... No."

"And do you think your teammates would do the same for you if they were presented with this chance?"

Anger began to brew within Hellfire. His body heat rose, emanating from him, causing those near to him to begin to sweat.

"Yes."

"Your trust, your liking of your supposed friends, betrays you. Do you really think they care about you? Each and every one of them has their own agenda. They're in this for themselves, and no one else."

"That's not true." His anger rose even more.

"And do you even think your mentors give a damn about what happens to you? All they care about is that they have heirs, vessels, to carry on their legacy. Just think of Batman: each time one of his 'precious' Robins moved on or died, he just replaced them with another child. What makes you think he wouldn't do the same to you?"

"He wouldn't... The Leaguers wouldn't just throw us away. They care about us. We mean something to them!" Gabe's voice was rising, almost yelling now.

"Wrong. You mean nothing to them. NOTHING! Just like how my wife ment nothing to them! They stood by and did nothing as my wife was killed! THEY LET HER DIE! AND THEY'LL LET YOU DIE, JUST LIKE THE SCUM THAT THEY ARE!" Deathstroke screamed, emotion suddenly taking him over. But the information provided to Gabe by this outburst was only heard, not registered. Instead, the rage grew inside him, until Hellfire himself snapped.

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE LYING! THAT'S NOT TRUE! SHUT! UP!" he screeched, shooting a tendril of intense black flame at the man that stood before him. Deathstroke dodged it, jumping to another spot in the cavernous monitor room. The spot he'd stood on just moments before caught fire. Hellfire aimed and fired again, only for his blast to be dodged once more, and where his flame hit a fire was started. He wasn't thinking straight. His anger was making all the decisions. And those were to keep blasting away at Deathstroke, until he was incinerated into nothing. So he kept firing, Deathstroke dodging each time, the place of impact catching on fire. If his teammates were yelling at him to snap him out of his rage, Gabe couldn't hear them. All his concentration was on killing Deathstroke.

But this murderous concentration brought forth his downfall: He didn't see Deathstroke take aim at him with his rifle, didn't see him pull the trigger. And all at once, his vision faltered, and he fell to the ground, the monitor room burning around him. Gabe had failed them. He'd failed his friends.

Phil watched in horror as Hellfire was gunned down. Casting a shield, the young sorcerer tried to get himself in between the would be assassin and his downed teammate. Automatic gunfire ricocheted off the magic barrier.
“I’ve killed a lot of people a lot stronger than you. That’s why I brought this.” Deathstroke drew the enchanted sword once more, and suddenly lunged at the young Fate. Phil reflexively raised his arm above his head as his shield flashed in between the two combatants. The sword first cut into the spell, then into flesh and bone. Pain seared through the sorcerer banishing all thoughts. Phil's senses returned to him a few seconds later, and he found his arm mutilated, Deathstroke no where to be found, and a giant hole in the burning wall.

"Wh-what happened?" Phil asked the empty room. His arm was encased in gold light; he recognized it as a spell, but he didn’t remember making it.

”Your power was faltering, and your will is insufficient. I needed to step in.” The voice seemed to echo in Phil's ears, but he didn't know where it was coming from.

"Who is that?" Phil asked tentatively, peering around the room. The fire was beginning to grow and expand. Where was Frostburn when you need him?

”You are wearing the Helm of Nabu. This is my helmet. You have my power. You must follow my rule henceforth. Refrain from asking any further idiotic questions. It gives away my position. Now, just let me take control, and I’ll finish him––”

I can do this myself, Phil shot back. Besides, I need to help my team mates.
As the young Fate began unearthing Fenrir with his magic, Deathstroke reemerged, preceded by a volley of automatic gunfire.

Nabu's voice whispered once more in Phil's ear. "My powers have been squandered on you far too long. If it was in my power to relinquish the Helm from you, I would. When your will fails again, I will take control once more."

Fenrir burst from the wreckage like a devil clawing his way up from hell, screaming and roaring, the sounds ragged like his vocal chords were strained almost to breaking, full of anger and fury and pain. The wolfman looked to be in terrible shape. His fur was matted in wet, slick, blood, either from the fight with Deathstroke or due to the roof collapsing on him. His right ear had been torn half off, now only hanging on by a loose flap of skin. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, the healing process already beginning to knit the bone back into its new and unwieldy shape. The worst by far though was a six inch wide broken section of steel that had speared straight through his chest, breaking two ribs and tearing through a lung, before protruding out of his back.

The only time he had suffered pain like this was when he had been kept in the white rooms when the scientists had done their tests on him, eager to find out what his limits were. They had poked and prodded, stabbed and cut, all in the name of research, while Granny had overseen them all. All just to see what their new soldier could handle.

The fact that he had suffered such before did not mean that he was eager to suffer it again though. The pain was almost unbearable, far too much for the man too handle. He retreated into himself, hoping that he would be able to escape the pain by burrowing deep into his sub-conscious. This left the beast in charge, and the beast was no more equipped to handle the pain than he. Worse, in fact, as now there was no intelligence to reason away the trauma.

The beast could think of no answer to alleviate its suffering, other than to lash out savagely at those he believed to have caused it. A moment of searching revealed several people in close proximity, some already fallen but others were standing, surrounded by flames and destruction. Pain-crazed eyes locked on the closest was dressed in gold and blue armour, gesturing at the beast with both hands. The beast clambered out of the remnants of the rubble, spitting and snarling at every ache in his body. The beast released a blood curdling howl, charging quickly at Fate despite his wounds, intending to tear his friend apart limb from limb.

Orbit's mind was steadily pushing into overdrive. This was a nightmare. Her teammates were falling, left and right. Hellfire was down, bleeding, and the idiot hadn't listened to her after the first time she'd yelled for him to close his ears. She threw out casual snarkiness, insults and jokes like they were weapons of their own. In some people's cases, like whoever the hell was attacking them, they were a deadly distraction.

Stupid, moronic, dummy, Gabe. Didn't she JUST tell him lack of focus was killer? Honestly, she was going to yell at him for months after he got up.

For now, she had work to do. "HEY a******!" She shouted from the ground, letting her power increase steadily until her eyes glowed and the debris of destruction around her was pushed away by sheer force. "I'm talkin' to you, Captain Caution Sign!" She smacked one fist into her palm and grinned. "Whoever told you neon orange is a sound tactical design lied to you!" Silently, she willed up a shield around her, one that was tighter than usual. There were images flooding her mind: invisible numbers, formulas, angles, patterns.

"Come on, you pumpkin painted p****! Fight someone with real balls!"

She watched Deathstroke's head turn, felt his focus on her. Jin only smiled, baring her teeth in a wolfish challenge. One more push should do it. She threw her arm out and pointed at him. "Yeah! Down here! The cute little girl in the pink! Come on, you faceless f******! No one comes into my territory and messes with my crew, and doesn't bleed for it! Come get it!"

Deathstroke let loose with three successive shots from the rifle, ones that Orbit reshaped her shield to relfect back in his direction. They came close enough that he had to reposition himself, and Orbit bared her teeth again. "Is that all you got?"

Deathstroke switched weapons, and Orbit could almost swear she could hear the man's teeth grinding. He opened fire with the machine gun. With an exhale of breath, Jin really cut loose on her power. While holding the shield in place with her mind, she flexed her hands and then cupped them in shape, and the oncoming bullet spray was funnelled into a tight group. Jin cried out in effort and defiance, as she twisted her hands and rebounded the bullets' energy. It was the same concept as her own 'flight', pinballing from one point of energy to another. The machine gun bullets, still live, poured back toward Deathstroke. The masked man abandoned his position to avoid them, and the attack punched several holes in the wall where he'd been standing.

Orbit laughed, wiping sweat from her nose and mouth. A burst of color on her gloves informed her that it wasn't sweat she was wiping, but blood. Had she been hit? She didn't feel any pain, but the blood was there all the same. No time to be hurt now, though. Her opponent was approaching. "Come. On. You're gonna hit me with your sparkly glitter blade?"

Deathstroke, or rather the man who would be Deathstroke, fired off a few small bursts of automatic gunfire which the young metahuman deflected with her TK abilities. Deathstroke watched as the wolfman clawed his way out of some wreckage and attacked the closest member of the team despite it being the one who helped save his life. Booster Gold, the targeted Justice Leaguer, was still bleeding in the monitor room from his leg along with Ditto2 who had caught the same bullet in Booster's leg in his arm. The killer knew it was now or never with the foundation of the HQ becoming weak on their end with black flames now also engulfing a few small areas around the base.

"What have you done with Canary you bastard?!? Did you kill her too?" Ditto1 screamed throwing some debris at the attacker before he could draw his blade again, making his way down to the lower levels of the base.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" came a shriek from another end of the base as Canary hit the scene with her sonic scream with broken handcuffs still around her wrists with Superman now in the HQ as well.

"Everyone stay back," Superman ordered blowing out some of the black flames with his super breath, "This impostor killed Hawkgirl on his way to Star City... didn't you, Ben?"

The masked man removed the only thing between him and the League at this point, the mask of Deathstroke. Taking it off he revealed himself as Ben Turner. Former husband of the deceased Vixen, formerly he called himself the Bronze Tiger and was an accomplished hand to hand fighter. The man bested Batman on several occasions.

"You blame the League for Vixen's death but killing everyone in the League won't bring her ba... AAAAAH!" Superman screamed as the enemy took his mystical sword and threw it with deadly aim piercing through the arm and shoulder of the Kryptonian.

"This all has to end, Kal. The League has to pay..." Turner began rambling.

"How many people have to die?!? I'd do anything to bring her back, Ben. This isn't who you are..." Superman pleaded as the young heroes and Canary herself were all over the place.

Canary went to the aid of Ditto2 and Booster, Orbit, the other Dittos, as well as the remaining young heroes not already beaten to a pulp gathered around Turner and Superman now down on his knees with the sword still stabbing through his arm and shoulder.

Turner seemingly had everything right where he wanted it, Superman down, vulnerable. All he had to do was get the sword and finish the job, still it was at that moment he couldn't see it anymore, all he saw was red. Red splattered on wounded bodies, on the walls, the ceiling. As the room burned around him Turner suddenly felt something he hadn't felt in a while, guilt. It was one thing to try and find his vengeance, but his revenge was not through these young people, hurt badly by his own hands. He tried to take a step forward, but felt his legs give out as he stumbled to his knees.

"What... have I... become...?" He asked himself aloud, Turner felt his eyes water as he looked down at his own hands, the red on them stained and hurt him more than anything in this battle.

"Vixen... Mari... wouldn't have wanted this. She'd be ashamed..." once again asking with no answer in sight.

He could hear her in his mind, begging him to stop, calling him a monster. Turner's eyes were hurting as he leaned forward, holding himself up on a hand as he felt nothing in himself anymore. No soul, no conscience. The pain was all too much, silently he reached for a handgun he had strapped to the belt of the suit. Superman tried to prepare himself to block it for the others, only to watch it get turned around, and go towards Turner's own mouth.

"Please forgive me Mari..." Turner quietly called out, as the handgun went into his mouth, and with a click and bang ended his misery.

Blood splattered on Superman and the ground around him and the dead body of Tuner as it hit the ground. The heroes still standing were shocked, but glad the whole ordeal was over. Now they could begin picking up the pieces...

~KL~ [with an assist by Drew]

The wolfman burst from the remaining rubble, with an empty, animalistic rage in his eyes. This was not Fenrir, Phil's team mate and ally. This was the wolf.

"Uhhh, Fenrir? Are you in there?" Phil asked hesitantly. The wolf gave a growl.

"He's not in there. You know it. Why ask?"

The wolf began to snarl and bark. He crouched down on his haunches, ready to pounce.

You're still here? I thought I told you to leave?

"Incolent boy. I cannot leave. Do you think I wish to be in your juvinile mind? As long as you wear my Helm, I will be here."

The wolf leaped at Phil. His attacks were savage and unrelenting, sending Phil reeling from the power and fury.

"Fenrir! It's me! Fate! Phil!" the young sorcerer yelled, barely managed to get a shield between himself and the wolf.

"I know you can hear me, so that must mean you are a cretin. I tell you again and again. Your friend is no more. He is no longer in control. Simply kill this beast and be done with it. I'll even do you the favor of doing it myself."

The wolf had pressed Phil into another room, away from the rest of the group. Phil was starting to counterattack, pushing the wolf back with small magic blasts.

No! I'm sure I could bring him out of it. Maybe I could use my magic...

"Must I remind you it's my magic? Insolent mortal. And you could revert him back to normal, even human form, if you actually knew how to use the vast power at your disposal. If Nabu had a face, it would be painted with a sly smile. However, you do know someone who knows everything about magic..."

You want me to give you control, don't you... The wolf was starting to break Phil's nerve. The spell that staved off the pain from his mangled arm was starting to fray under the pressure, letting the pain seep back into his body. His shields were beginning to crack and splinter; they wouldn't last much longer.

"Better do it quick, boy. You're spent. Your one 'friend' is about to eat you. Your other friends didn't even notice you, they were so busy with their own fight. You know this is what must be done. Give me control, boy!"

Phil wavered for a moment too long. The wolf finally broke his shield, sending motes of light flying. Big, powerful jaws clamped down on Phil's already wounded arm, rending and tearing flesh. "Take control! Take control!" Phil screamed in pain.

"Only once you have learned your lesson. You are insignificant compared to my cosmic power. I am immortal, while you are a fly, living for only a day. When I say give me control, boy, you give me control!" Nabu's voice was hard as steel, cutting into Phil.

"Do whatever you want, just take control!" Phil screamed once more as he heard his own bone crack and break between the wolf's razor vice. Then, he felt nothing. Phil fell through what he now recognized as Nabu's memories, stretching all the way back to ancient Egypt. He had to fight to remember himself, to keep his own memories, lest they be washed away by the torrent of Nabu. Slowly, he clawed his way back to his own mind. Briefly, he saw a young man where the wolf had once been.
"Fen...rir?" Phil said faintly, before passing out next to the ex-wolfman.