"Something's happening. The trains have been disconnected. What the hell-" Star Sapphire was interrupted by the arrival of the infamous Batman, who swung into the train's interior with a poise swiftness and skill that paid homage to the man's training. Before either of the super criminals could react, the Dark Knight chucked a handful of bat-shaped explosives into Solomon Grundy's substantially bulky arms. The grenades went off, their deafening sound enhanced by the tiny space inside the train. Overwhelmed by the sudden cacophony, Grundy dropped the crate containing Amazo's head and pressed his huge palms against his ears. If Grundy had been a lesser villain, the batarangs would have blown holes into his limbs. But Solomon Grundy had tangled with the Man of Steel. It took more than a couple of firecrackers to hurt him.

“Grundy. Leave now and we don’t have to do this. Ivo is using you.”

The Bat-Man thought he knew so much. He thought he was so smart. But Grundy knew better. The Bat-Man was wrong. Ivo was Grundy's friend. He promised to make Grundy rich if Grundy helped him rebuild Amazo. Solomon Grundy liked money. It's how he paid for his Super Friends Trading Card collection.

"You not know what you are talking about, Batman! Ivo is Grundy's friend. But Batman is not Grundy's friend. Batman hurt Grundy! So Grundy hurt Batman!"

At first glance, one would think the rotting, miry body of Solomon Grundy was heavy. One would think this made the zombie slow. But that was not the case. The dirty, porcelain-colored giant charged across the train with surprising speed. A short leap allowed Grundy to close the final gap between himself and Batman. The monster transferred the previously built-up momentum into his fist, which he crashed through the train floor mere moments after the Batman dodged out of the way. Solomon Grundy grunted and growled in frustration, and tore his hand out of the bottom of the train, rending the metal further. "Stay still, little Bat! Let Grundy smash you!" The swamp beast slammed a hand into his chest, pulling out a butcher knife. He tossed it at Batman. He followed up the ranged attack with a second knife taken from the inside of his corpse, before dashing forward once more and striking out with a sweeping punch. This time, the force of Grundy's attack exploded the side of the train open. Wind rushed inside, and the lighter objects scattered about the train car were thrown into the air and out the gaping out.

"Oops." Grundy muttered, his voice lost in the sound of the wind.

"You idiot! Watch where you're swinging!" Star Sapphire called. She'd finally snapped out of her surprise at Batman's arrival and grabbed the crate. The pink lantern took flight, carrying the precious cargo in an energy bubble behind her as she exited the train through the hole. Grundy continued to attack the Dark Knight, unaware that his partner was considering leaving him behind. After a moment of flying alongside the speeding train, Star Sapphire decided that Grundy's trust was a small price to pay for Ivo's paycheck. So Star Sapphire reared away from the locomotive and headed towards the west. She thought she was home free. But Sapphire was unaware that Batman was not the only hero who had responded to her attack on ARGUS. She was fast, but not fast enough to escape the wrath of Jesse Quick.

It was then that Solomon Grundy noticed the bright pink trail of light leading away from the train. "Huh?" He questioned. The big creature turned away from Batman momentarily, glancing around the cabin. His partner was gone! "Where she go?" He asked. "Where box go?!" Grundy panicked when he noticed the missing crate. "Did Bat-Man take box and partner?!" Grundy yelled angrily. "Grundy smash you if you did!"

Arthur Curry, unlike most people, usually enjoyed the rain. The feel of cool water spattering against his dry skin was always a blessed relief whenever he spent time on the surfaceworld. Even the most miserly of drizzles could help raise his spirits. It had always been like that, even before he knew he was part Atlantean.

Not today though. Nothing could help shift his all-encompassing gloom. Nothing felt comforting today.

The day of Clark's funeral.

The Atlantean prince stood amongst the other members of the League, decked out in his ceremonial garb, back straight, posture rigid, face as carefully neutral as he could possibly maintain. Composed. Controlled. Unflinching. He didn't want the world to see how much he was hurting. How much he was grieving. Clark hadn't been just his ally, he'd been his friend. Another outsider, another being torn between two worlds, two peoples. More than any of the other Leaguers, Clark had understood what it was like to feel different.

And now he was gone.

Of all of them Clark had always been the best. The strongest, the toughest, the most virtuous. Without him what were they? It wasn't a question he wanted answering, honestly.

Supergirl was at the podium. The Girl of Steel. Heavy title too foist on someone so young, so frail looking. She might be strong as he was, but was she ready to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders? Especially when she was looking like her own world had just crumbled down around her. She gave a good speech though. Short, solemn, respectful, tinged with an edge of hope for better days. The kind of speech Clark might have given.

“Good words.” Arthur murmured to himself as the Kryptonian stepped away from the podium.

Maybe there was some small comforts to be derived from a day like today.

Later

The ceremony was beginning to wind down, the speeches finished, the dirt piled. Mourners still mobbed the site though, congregating in small groups, trying to assuage they're own grief by drawing strength from one another. They shared their favorite stories and personal anecdotes about the Man of Steel, trying their best to remember the better times. Arthur was conversing with Kaldur, the two Atlantean's naturally gravitating towards one another. It had been a while since the two had seen each other, Kaldur's responsibilities to Supergirl and the Teen Titans keeping him from serving as 'Aquaman's sidekick' as often as he used to. Not that Arthur minded. He was proud of the man that Kaldur was becoming, and felt his independence was well earned. Still, it was nice to see him, just a shame that the situation was so grim.

Arthur's belt buckle started to pulse softly, a sign that he was receiving some form of dispatch from Poseidonis. He excused himself and crossed to a quiet corner where he could listen to the message in peace. Lightly pressing the finger-tips of his right hand upon the stylized 'A' of his belt initiated contact.

Contact was the Atlantean fashion of conveying messages to each other over great distances. The process usually utilized a magical foci – such as his belt buckle – to allow telepathic communication between individuals oceans apart.

Near instantly he felt the probing, intrusive, and vaguely nauseating sensation as his consciousness was suffused by another's, wondering – not for the first time – if this was what it was like for the aquatic life when he used his gifts to command them. He'd heard that apparently the experience wasn't quite as unpleasant for a puissant mage as it was for a mystical novice like him, but really that was a fact that didn't help Arthur in the slightest.

Slowly the second presence coalascended into a separate consciousness, taking on the traits and characteristics of the message sender until it felt like there was a whole other person shoved into Arthur’s skin. Familiarity bloomed, the half-breed coming to recognize the feelings this consciousness presented. The intelligence and intensity of magical power, the deep cunning that couldn't be found in normal men. The strength of character and immense willpower. The feelings of family he inspired in Arthur. It was unmistakable.

<Brother. . . . My apologies for interrupting the ceremony> Began Orm, his 'voice' whispering through Arthur's head, a slight echoey quality to it. It was obvious he meant the apology, as his presence twisted uncomfortably when he made it, the psychic equivelant of hand-wringing. Orm knew how important today was supposed to be. For that reason Arthur forgave him, as the Crown-Prince wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. He could feel Orm's relief.

<You're right, it is urgent, so I wont waste anytime. Mere minutes ago I, and several of Poseidonis's most powerful sorcerors felt a magical pulse. After quick discussions we have unanimously agreed that it's source could be from nothing other than one of the lost Zodiac Stone's > Orm paused, perhaps sensing his brothers surprise. The Stone's were items of incredible power, twelve in total, each patterend after the signs of the Zodiac. It was the Stones that had once allowed Atlantis to be the eminent power on the face of the planet, and it was by using the power of the Stones that allowed his forebears had managed to survive the Drench, the great cataclysm that had sunk their kingdoms. In doing so many of the Stones had been lost though, modern Atlantean's only knowing the wherabouts of six. For centuries the Seven Kingdoms had hunted the missing Stones, knowing that to find just one could tip the delicate balance of power between them. If Orm was right, and this pulse had originated with one of the lost Stones, then a sufficiently talented mage could track the pulse straight back to the Stone itself.

<Exactly, and while we can't be sure that the anomaly will lead back to one of the Zodiac Stones, we can't just ignore it, and take the chance that our rivals don't, and actually finds something. The collegiate have already located the source of the pulse> Co-ordinate locations appeared in Arthur's head, only a few hundred miles from the east coast of America. <You're not far, so you stand the best chance of beating the other kingdoms. We need you go there and investigate, and if the Stone is there, retrieve it for Poseidonis> This was no request. No doubt this was an order straight from his mother. Even the funeral of Superman couldn't postpone this task, not in the eyes of his family. For the briefest of moments he resented them, always telling him what to do, never bothering to give a moment to his wants, his needs. Couldn't they do anything without him? Couldn't he get one day, just one fucking day to himself!? All he wanted to do was grieve for his friend!

Hadn't he given enough of himself to Atlantis?

Orm must have sensed the animostic feelings, as he quickly changed tacts.

<Please brother, we need you to do this. We've already sent a mage who was in the area towards the pulse location, as well as a Man-o-War squad who were nearbye on a patrol mission, but this is a task that needs to be done right. If it is a Stone then that's too much power too let just anyone have! Mother or I would go ourselves, but we have the meeting with the Tritonis ambassador today, and he's angsty enough without us walking out on him>

<You're the only one we trust to do this>

Near instantly the fight went out of Arthur. He even knew that Orm had just played him like a bad fiddle, and yet he still knew he'd do what was asked of him. He couldn't see his family far enough, and Orm knew it. Break out the big 'T' word and Arthur was caught, hook, line and sinker.

<Thank you brother. You're doing the right thing. If you do find the Stone then take it straight back to Poseidonis. Give it to either myself or mother. No one else>

<I'll see you soon Orin>

Orders handed out the meeting was concluded, Orm's presence swiftly receding until Arthur was once again left as the sole resident in his head. He glanced around to see if any one was looking at him, but no one had even had the time to notice. The entire meeting would have taken seconds, the benefit of telepathic conversation. Everthing transpires at the speed of thought.

Speaking of, he had better get going. The race would be on, and whether he liked it or not he didn't have any time to spare. He glimpsed Kaldur as he was leaving, briefly wondering whether he should enlist the young man's aid on the mission. Then he saw Supergirl, saw the way Kaldur looked at her, and decided against it. She looked like she needed Kaldur a good deals more than he needed Aqualad, regardless to the risk it might prove to Poseidonis. Arthur knew what it was like, feeling torn between your responsibilites to two seperate worlds. He wasn't about to put Kaldur through the same.

Without saying any goodbyes he left.

Parkthorne Avenue, Blüdhaven

It had taken him all night and he’d lost count of the number of fingers he’d had to break but Dick had finally located Two-Face’s base of operations. He was working out of Giuseppe’s meatpacking plant by Skunk Avenue. It had closed down almost seven years ago and had lain dormant ever since. Dent seemed to have amassed a small army of illegal immigrants to help him prepare Schizo within the plant. Every second that passed meant more of Dent’s filth on the streets. Dick had to act and he had to act fast. God knows how many more would die otherwise.

Dick stood in his apartment in front of the computer screen and made sure to memorize the schematic of the meatpacking plant. He couldn’t afford any nasty surprises. There was every chance the immigrants working for Dent were doing it against their wishes and Dick wanted to make sure there wasn’t any collateral damage. Once he was satisfied he hit a button and the computer dialed Hendrix on the number of the burner Grayson had given him that morning. After a few rings the old busker picked up.

“Run me through what I gotta do again, my man.”

Dick sighed.

“Exactly forty-five minutes from now you’re to call Blüdhaven Police Department and ask to be put through to a Detective Gannon Malloy in the Homicide Division. You tell him the man responsible for the two murders at Waterloo Docks is waiting for him at the old meat packing plant by Skunk Avenue. Tell him to bring backup and not to be late.”

BPD needed to apprehend Dent at the scene to link him to the drugs. There was no other way if they were going to nail him for those two vagrants over on Waterloo Docks. He might not have killed them with his own hands but the drug he had supplied them with had caused their deaths and that was as good as the same thing to Dick. Hopefully a court of law would see it the same way. At the very least Dick was sure Dent probably had twenty open warrants on him. Apprehending him would mean he’d be off the streets and in a padded cell somewhere. Everyone would be safer for that.

After a few seconds Hendrix’s voice came through. It was laced with doubt. “It sounds like you’re fixing to do something drastic, Officer Grayson, I hope you’re not planning on making me an accessory to something grievous.”

Dick laughed a little at that.

“Relax, Hendrix, I think Blüdhaven’s got enough dirty cops for one lifetime. This is all on the up and up. You have my word on that.”

Dick tapped a button on the keyboard that ended the call and shut the computer down with a swipe. He’d spent the best part of a year fighting Blockbuster and his men to no avail. The last thing he needed was Dent on his hands. If Schizo was allowed to keep growing Harvey would have a monopoly on Blüdhaven’s drug trade. It would lead to all out war on the city’s streets. Dick had to cut Dent down to size before that happened. He had to show him and anyone else with designs on Blüdhaven that the city was a no-go zone. Only then would he be able to take Blockbuster down for good.


Skunk Avenue, Blüdhaven

Harvey Dent stood on a raised platform that overlooked his operation. He had at least forty people working round the clock producing Schizo and word had it that he’d have another twenty more within the night. They’d be able to increase production soon. Increased production meant increased profits, increased profits meant increased power, and increased power meant Blüdhaven would be his before long. There was just one problem. The latest shipment of nerve agent Dent used to make Schizo had been hijacked by Blockbuster’s men earlier that afternoon. If that freak had his wits about him, which Harvey had been lead to believe he did, he’d figure out for himself how to make the drug and cut into Harvey’s profits.

Knelt before Dent was the lone survivor of the team tasked with bringing the shipment off of the docks to the meatpacking plant. He was a fat man, in his forties, and he’d been with Dent’s crew for a few years. Harvey couldn’t remember his name. He could never remember their names. The man sobbed silently in the arms of two of Dent’s enforcers. Harvey flicked his silver coin up and down in his right hand as he prowled in front of the man.

“How much is he paying you?”

The fat man stared up at Dent with a bemused look. “P… P-paying me?”

“Blockbuster,” Harvey smiled. “Three of my men are dead and here you stand without a scratch on you. Am I to believe you’re so much of a specimen that you not only evaded capture but did so without so much as grazing a knee? Is that what you’re telling me here?”

“I work for you, boss, I’m… loyal to you, not that Blockbuster freak.”

Dent chuckled as he continued to pace around like a restless animal. “You can understand why I’m a little suspicious, I hope?”

“I… I can’t explain it… I guess I was lucky.”

“Luck, eh? That’s what you put it down to? I wonder if the next shipment is intercepted whether that’ll be down to another stroke of bad luck too?”

“I… I… don’t know, boss.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Harvey sneered. “Look, this little expansion of mine is important to me, there’s a lot of money to be made in it for everyone, and I can’t put all of that at risk by choosing to take you at your word. I need to know for certain where your loyalties lie.”

Dent bent down towards the man and brandished his silver coin in front of the man’s face. One side was blackened with deep knife marks riven into it and the other was unmarked. The man stared into the ground, preferring not to make eye contact with Dent, something Harvey noticed people did more and more since his accident. The exposed flesh on the left side of his face seemed to put people ill at ease. Not that he could blame them. He turned the coin to show both sides to the man and flipped it to show him it wasn’t weighted.

“Heads you live and tails you die,” Dent said with a sadistic smile. “Does that sound fair to you?”

“W… w-what? P-please, boss, I sw…”

Dent flicked his thumb and the coin flew upwards. It had made it up to Harvey’s face when an object cut across it and sent the coin flying out of sight.

“What the…?”

Dent looked up to the plant’s roofing and there amongst the rafters stood Nightwing with a mocking smile on his face.

“You know, Harvey, you really need to think about brushing up on your interpersonal skills. If you keep going around shooting your men in the head you’re going to have a real hard time attracting work.”

Harvey's twisted, burnt face contorted with rage as he took aim at Nightwing and opened fire. With each pull of the trigger his roars grew louder and spittle ran down his chin. Nightwing pirouetted down from the rafters without breaking a sweat, undeterred by the bullets flying past his head, and as he landed in front of Dent reached for one of his Escrima sticks with a smile. Nightwing stood eerily still as Harvey fired the last of his bullets towards him. With a swipe of his stick the costumed vigilante deflected the bullet away from him and then smirked in Dent's direction.

"My turn."

J'onn J'onzz had only ever cried 3 times in his life. The first time was when he watched his family die in front of him. The second was when he watched the only other woman he loved struggle for her life. The last time was today, at Superman's funeral. Tears were a foreign thing to the Martian people, so when he did shed them they were in little number but each was heavy.

His first tear was for his friends, his new family. As he stood there in his black suit, which contrasred against his green skin and red eyes, next to the other league memebers J'onn found that a deep pain had caused him to shed this tear. While he stood there listing to Superman's protégé give her speech, J'onn opened his mind to the emotions around him, and all he found dwas pain sorrow and fear. But not fear of any present thing but fear of the future, fear of what would happen next now that the Man of Steel, Defender of Earth, was gone. They did all share a question; What was the world going to do next?

The second tear was for the past. All the, memories they made together, and times they shared. Superman had shown J'onn the potential in humanity. He had shown J'onn why they needed protecting, why the humans deserved it.

The last tear he had to give while he listened to Kara's words, was for the future. When Superman dawned the red 'S' it was a signal that everything would be okay, that help was coming, that there was a chance. But now future generations would never get to see that, they would never get to feel that comfort and hope. One thing J'onn knew for sure, Superman's death brought something, whether it be a gift or a curse, his death would effect the wrold in waves.

After Kara's speech J'onn felt some sort of peace. His heart went out to her, he knew she felt like some brand new burden has been put on her shoulders, and John did not quite know how to bring her nerves at ease. Simply because his were still out of out of whack. After the speech he mingled with a little bit with people that were still around and anyone who approached him but soon the crowd started to thin and that meant that it was time for him to return to his post in the watchtower.

Neutron unleashed another blast towards Supergirl, leaving her only a blink of the eye to get out of the way. The stream of energy strikes the wall behind her, melting it like butter in the microwave. Even though it didn’t hit her, the radiation made her woozy. Clark had been on the planet long enough where powerful radiation didn’t affect him, but Kara didn’t have the same luck. This fight was going to have to end soon if she had any chance of coming out okay.

And she was not planning on dying on her first day on the job.

“You look like you’re feeling ill, Supergirl,” the villain mocked her. “Maybe you should take a seat!”

He fired another stream at her, which struck her in the chest, sending her reeling. She slammed into a marble column, sending the rock collapsing on top of her. It hurt like hell, but it also gave her an idea on how to take this guy out. His mocking words were more than just a mind game. He needed to charge up his blasts. He mocked because he didn’t have a choice otherwise.

That’s all Kara needed.

She popped back up, prepared for yet another energy attack. Like clockwork, it came towards her, and she easily stepped out of the way. Before she had to hear another word out of his mouth, she took a deep breath and let loose a powerful gust of super breath. The incredibly frigid air strikes the villain, and almost instantly the nuclear reaction fueling him grinds to a halt in front of her. She continues, and before long Neutron is frozen solid in the middle of the bank.

Kara exhales deeply as the sound of helicopters reach her ears. The sound of ARGUS helicopters, to be specific. Whether or not the leaders of ARGUS were people to be trusted, they were the Justice League’s only option for superhuman detention.

The helicopters landed outside and a wave of agents rush in, surrounding Kara and the frozen villain. She nods at the Neutron-sicle, “You’re gonna want to keep that as cold as possible. If not, he’ll get out. Once you have him at a secure location, keep him in a radiation proof room. That’s the best way to keep him off the streets.”

“Thanks, Supergirl,” one of the agents smiled as they began to take Neutron away.

Kara walked with them, emerging to applause from Metropolis’s citizens who had gathered outside the bank. She smiled and waved meekly at them. She had seen Clark do this so many times, and he made it look easy. She was different. She wasn’t someone that took the admiration and attention all that well. She appreciated it, sure. But it still made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

“Nice threads, Supergirl!” a familiar voice said from beside her. She turned to find the smiling face of Jimmy Olsen snapping pictures. “Looks just like the big guy’s costume.”
“I think that was the idea, Jim,” she smiled back.

“Supergirl!” Lois Lane came up behind Jimmy. “Can I get a statement for the Planet?”

“Sure, Ms. Lane,” Kara nodded. “I stand by what I said at the funeral. My cousin’s mission is now all our mission. I’m here to take up his fight in Metropolis, and no one attacks this city without hearing from me.”

With that, she took off and headed home.



Fortress of Solitude

Kara rubbed her eyes as she stared at the screen analyzing Neutron’s attack on the base. Next to her, Kelex stood analyzing the data as well. She could hear his circuitry and sevos running as he looked for any sign of how the man got his powers.

“This is Intergang. I know it.”

“It seems likely,” Kelex agreed. “They do enjoy stealing. Though we’ve never seen power like this from them before.”

“Well...let’s hope the computer finds something,” she sighed. “In the meantime, I’m gonna try to find out where Intergang’s hideout is.”

"I hear you're looking to put back on the costume." The male's voice on the other end of the phone call chuckled.

Jesse frowned at her cellphone, then lifted it back to her ear. "Word travels fast." She agreed to nothing. The CEO might be blond, but she was anything but dumb. Still, the person who had called didn't seem to be bothered at all. There was another laugh before he spoke again.

"I can be there in twenty since I'd rather not do this over an unsecured line Ms. Chambers."

Jesse hesitated. In the lull caused by it, the man spoke again. "I'll see you then." And the line went dead. Jesse jabbed her finger at the phone and pulled back up the call history. The number was still blocked. The old woman sighed and pushed her intercom button.

"Yes Jesse?" The clear voice of her secretary came over the line.

"Get me Seth." Jesse lifted her finger off the button. Sarah was a good girl and was used to Jesse's terse requests. The young woman might have only worked for Jesse for less than a year, but the twenty year old gum snapper was the best secretary she had had.


Jesse felt self conscious as she edged closer to the three combatants. Her flashy costume was not meant for stealth, or hiding anything really. She wore more going swimming. As she moved closer she heard a female voice shouting about swinging. It was obviously directed to the behemoth. Jesse paused as she watched the woman reach for a box then fly off.

Jesse took a small breath. Okay, flight. People fly. You're Jesse Quick. You fly! Of course people fly. You worked with people who flew. Get over it. Never in her life had she felt so old. Never had she felt more alive. The comms in her ears interrupted that feeling.

"The package is off the train and moving rapidly." One of the Nerds said rapidly.

Another piped in with: "Sending coordinates to your visor."

A small line appeared and traced the flight path the woman had took. Jesse spared one last glance over at the remaining two combatants. The large one was screaming, upset and agitated. Should Jesse leave them together? They were obviously not friendly. Jesse turned her attention back to them. The smaller one was dressed in a cape.

"Oh crap!" The head Flasher, Dave?, cried. "That's Batman!"

"It's getting away!" Another Nerd informed her, slightly hysterical. From the sounds coming through the comms, all the Nerds were freaking out. Flashers.

Jesse hesitated for another moment before leaping off the train. If that really was Batman, and Jesse didn't have any cause to disbelieve Daniel(?) about it, he didn't need her help.

Jesse didn't even have to think to match her speed to the train's as she paced it for a second. She took another deep breath as she concentrated on her movements. The world seemed to slow down as she focused. It had been a long time sine she flew. She hadn't expected this day to be so exciting. Jesse felt her muscles and concentrated on moving even faster as she pulled away from the train, moving faster and faster.

Jesse felt the familiar thrill and stomach turning wrong-ness when her left foot failed to touch the ground. She swallowed and pushed herself to run even faster, leaving the ground behind. Soon there was nothing but air under her. As she gained a good pace, she allowed herself to concentrate less. In her ear the Flashers were still squawking. Without any trouble she ignored them for the visor. Jesse was quickly closing in on the woman who had taken the box.

As the old superhero closed in on her goal she was able to make out the other's woman costume. Or rather lack thereof. She was dressed in what looked like a pink swimsuit that had been mauled by a shark in a porno. Still, Jesse recognized the costume with the ring. A Star Sapphire. As far as Jesse knew they weren't the bad guys and worked with the Green Lanterns. Apparently this one didn't get the memo.

Jesse gained even more ground on the woman and reached out to snag the box.

Solomon Grundy was more than just a menace. His low intellect and high power was a disastrous combination. He honestly was a villain out of happenstance rather than need. He just wanted to impress his friends and make some money, his friends just happened to be criminals. If he only realized that he'd be able to get way more of both helping out the good guys than the bad guys.

Bruce couldn't worry about that now, however. Grundy was mad, and he was throwing knives from inside himself at the Batman. Once he realized that wasn't going to work, he ripped half the train apart trying to swipe at Wayne.

"Batman," Oracle's voice popped back into his ear, "the Batwing's sensors are picking up an approaching speedster."

Barry, you wonderful goof, Bruce thought to himself. He'd be able to handle Grundy by himself, but without help Star Sapphire would easily get away with Amazo's head, something she was trying to do as Grundy and Batman circled one another.

It was then that Solomon Grundy noticed the bright pink trail of light leading away from the train. "Huh?" He questioned. The big creature turned away from Batman momentarily, glancing around the cabin. His partner was gone! "Where she go?" He asked. "Where box go?!" Grundy panicked when he noticed the missing crate. "Did Bat-Man take box and partner?!" Grundy yelled angrily. "Grundy smash you if you did!"

"No," Batman growled at the zombie. As the villain attempted to sort it out in his head, Batman slid his hand up to his utility belt, searching for a small charge. Grundy had torn the train car half apart. A well placed blast would send it splintering apart. "She took the case and ran, Grundy. Like I told you, they don't care about you. All they want is to use you as muscle."

"Bat-Man lies!" Grundy yelled angrily before taking off in a run towards Batman. Unfortunately for him, the vigilante's explosive landed below his first footstep. The combined shock ripped the train cart apart, flooding the area with a huge rush of air. Batman caught it with his cape, gliding him safely to the ground.

Grundy wasn't as lucky. He bounced hard along with the tumbling pieces of train car, the momentum of the train carrying him a few dozen yards away. With a window, Bruce contacted Barbara, "Oracle, send the Batwing to assist the speedster with Star Sapphire."

"What are you going to do, Bruce?" Babs asked.

"Make sure Grundy is occupied."

January 2nd 2015,
The Height of Morning Rush Hour,
Downtown Fawcett City

Traffic stood completely still in the streets at Fawcett City's busiest intersection, backed up likely for miles and miles with not even one vehicle moving so much as an inch forward. Despite that, there was no shouting, no honking of horns, not even the tiniest sign of road rage or faintest grumble of annoyance among the good people of Fawcett City.

After all It was hard to feel just angry or annoyed when traffic was being jammed by a building-sized mechanical Death-Bot.

The architect of this aggravating accumulation of automobiles and automaton sat perched on a strange craft embedded in the robot's head, an almost skeletal grin splitting his face as the sun gleamed off of his thick glasses and protruding, bald forehead. Standing in his strange craft atop the massive humanoid war machine, he addressed the masses with what appeared to be a built in microphone inside of the dome of the thing.

"People of Fawcett City! I! Doctor Thaddeus Sivana, have come to wish you all a Happy New Year!-"

The people below stopped their trembling in fear and for the most part all agreed that this was a very nice gesture from the mad scientist, generally nodding along, smiling, returning the sentiment, a few children even waving from the backseats of cars-

"-for after I destroy this intersection I've always hated, it shall be time for me to fulfill MY New Year's Resolution! Conquering Fawcett City and subsequently, THE WORLD! Heh! Heh! Heh!~"

Screaming and panicking commenced shortly thereafter as Doctor Sivana's death-bot began charging up a massive chest laser, presumably preparing to melt the roads and their occupants back into bubbling tar and molten metal. But just as the laser began priming to fire the robot was knocked back onto its' heels by an airborne red blur, causing the devastating blast to be knocked harmlessly into the air. As it missed a heroic voice rang out:

"That's one New Year's resolution you're going to break, Sivana!" Captain Marvel was there suddenly, floating in front of the mad scientist and the robot with its' smoking chest-mounted laser cannon. "Now, come along quietly and leave these nice citizens to their business!"

For his part Sivana seemed completely calm, though the grin slipped from his face within his transparent bubble "Ah, if it isn't the Big Red Cheese! How unexpected...by which of course I mean completely expected! Captain Nazi, now!"

The Swastika-adorned ex-super soldier suddenly appeared with what was likely the aid of some cloaking device of Sivana's, carrying a what looked like a large, stereotypical ray gun. He fired it into Captain Marvel's back in that instant of surprise and though Earth's Mightiest Mortal felt no pain he was nevertheless sent crashing to the ground feet first as if a great weight was dropped on him. Before he could do more than blink at the sudden descent another blast hit him and the pavement gave way under his feet, suddenly struggling to do more than slightly move his arms as he sank up to his armpits into the street.

"Heh! Heh! Heeeh!~ You big musclebound oaf! Thanks to my prototype Graviton Ray, you'll be crushed helplessly under the magnified weight your own super-strong body! Even if you could move, my Omnivehicle's protective dome is made of an unbreakable glass of my own devising, and once my Death-bot's laser charges up again I'm finally going to be rid of you and this infuriating infrastructure all in the same day!"

"An excellent plan Herr Doctor! With that done you can finally have time to recreate the glorious Nazi science that empowered me, and together our army will conquer everything! Best of all you, Captain Marvel, will be as dead as my past dreams of a racially pure Europe! Though unlike you, those will soon be revived!"

Captain Marvel seemed to be trapped helplessly as his foes taunted and the Death-Bot's chest laser began charging up once more. Though his arm blurred outward once with super-speed, he could not free himself and seemed to bow his head with his hands clasped together in either sorrowful defeat or a last moment of peace before the end was upon him. Then laser chest cannon fired and all seemed lost...

...only for Captain Marvel to thrust out his hands as the laser suddenly split into a dazzling array of beautiful colors, melting precisely no one and nothing. Sivana and Captain Nazi both stared in shock as the laser failed to destroy both hero and street, with Sivana only stuttering out a weak "Wh-what?! H-how is that possible!?"

Captain Marvel explained it all with good cheer, smiling just a little. "Why it's simple, Sivana! Earlier when I was pretending to try and free myself I was actually reaching for some specific rocks I noticed on the ground! Then by precisely applying the Strength of Hercules along with Zeus' lightning and high-speed hand movements for temperature regulation I simulated the conditions required for the creation of a synthetic diamond at super-speed! Using its naturally occurring ability for optical diffraction, I used it to split the power of your laser cannon into a harmless laser light-show!" He displayed his hands palm-up and in fact there was a large diamond glittering between them. "You can see for yourself if you don't believe me! Here, catch!" With that Marvel's arm blurred again as he pitched the diamond overhand, shattering the 'unbreakable' glass of the Omnivehicle's dome atop the robot and purposefully missing Sivana by inches, sending the doctor cowering. Just then the effects of the Graviton Ray wore off and he burst from the ground, easily dodging further blasts from Captain Nazi now that he was no longer surprised by the tactic.

The quick strike Captain Marvel delivered in response was hardly enough to put down the powerful Albrecht Krieger, but it was just enough to distract him so that the Big Red Cheese could snatch the Graviton Ray from his hands and give him a taste of his own medicine at close range. Thus with Sivana curled up in a fetal position and Captain Nazi slammed into the ground under his own weight, it was easy enough for the good Captain to disassemble the Death-Bot and fly off to the cheers of the crowd as the Nazi super soldier and the power hungry mad scientist awaited the proper authorities.

Yes, just another morning in Fawcett City!

---

---

[We view the scene from above, tucked into the upper corner of the room. It’s small, dark, with concrete walls and concrete flooring, a single light suspended from the ceiling; no more than a light bulb clinging onto a thin tangle of wires. Directly below it lies a man bound to an operating table, straps restricting his arms, legs and head from moving. The security camera is of great quality, the best that can be afforded, and so it’s easy to tell that he’s afraid. Sweat beads on his forehead, dark patches of it visible on his clothes – a tank top and boxers. His jacket and pants lay discarded on the floor, next to the feet of John King, dressed smartly in a suit and tie, a saw held in his right hand. A vicious sneer adorns King’s face. He’s furious – but more than that – he’s enjoying this.]

JOHN KING: So, tell me again, Mr. Morgan… What exactly were you tasked with doing last night?

MACK MORGAN: Y-you wanted me to kill th-that gang leader… Tobias Whale.

JOHN KING: And what, pray tell, happened?

MACK MORGAN: I-I messed up. There was a shootout. Then – then this girl – Green Arrow’s sidekick –

JOHN KING: Speedy.

MACK MORGAN: She crashed through one of the windows, started – she started beating everyone up, left and right. I-I’m telling you, sir, she didn’t look like no sidekick. Sh-she took care of everyone – even knocked Whale unconscious – and then she… she turned on me. She asked me who s-sent me… W-why I wanted to kill Whale...

[King rests the sawblade on Morgan’s throat. He’s seething.]

JOHN KING: And what… did you tell her?

MACK MORGAN: Please… Mr. King…

JOHN KING: WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?!

[Morgan closes his eyes, trying to jerk his head away from King. The bonds hold him tight, however, and all he can do is wriggle as he weeps in fear.]

MACK MORGAN: I – I only told her that the King sent me. P-please, Mr. King, I didn’t expose you! She knows nothing!

[He breaks into a fresh bout of crying. This time, he doesn’t hold any of it back. His tears fall freely to the floor.]

JOHN KING: Hmm. I suppose so.

[King lifts the saw from his neck, turning away from Morgan in mock-contemplation – then in one quick, fluid motion, turns back to slit his former employee’s throat. Blood cascades from the wound. Some of it seeps into King’s suit, a spray of dark red, appearing as if out of a Jackson Pollock painting. Faint choking sounds can be heard as the life slowly leaves Morgan’s body. King wipes a stray spatter of blood from his cheek.]

JOHN KING: Idiot. Of course you exposed me. These capes are nothing if not persistent. She won’t stop until she finds out who I am, and brings down everything I stand for.

[He takes out his phone and taps the screen, then holds it against his ear.]

JOHN KING: Polly. I need you to get me in touch with the hitman – Onomatopoeia, yes, that one.

[He sneers.]

JOHN KING: I have a job for him.