Jean held the smile on her lips like it were a fish; any wrong move and it would slip right out of her grasp, and undoubtedly a laugh would follow. But given the slightly narrowed eyes, the silent outrage at the earbuds stunt, and the all too serious nature in which this Detective went about their business conversation...a laugh probably wasn't the best touch right now. So she smiled at him, as bright and true as any smile Jean Grey had felt in quite a long time. The money he was talking about she could get out of an ATM if she used the red Debit card. For a trust fund kid like Jean, it was a price she was more than willing to pay if it meant a door opening up to her in Opal City.

In that moment, more than anything, she just watched him. Once he turned to her and she got a full on view of the Chimp, she took a look, sized him up, and slowly turned her body back to face the bar, and her own drink. A drink she had too much of, recently, if she were honest with herself. A drink she took up with her blood red high gloss fingernailed index finger and thumb, and took a sip of. It wasn't thirst quenching, something about aging in a charcoal barrel for years that took away the fresh crisp of the drink.

But the alcohol was like tendrils of fire spreading down her throat and out across her entire chest, and then to furthest outposts of her body. Even her toes seemed to tingle for a heartbeat. Only with her voice in the aftermath of such a harsh drink did she respond, the affect of the drink making her voice a little lower, a little deeper. Somehow making it sound less feminine. "Deal. You shall have to tell me about this...mystery of yours. But first, it might help if you knew what I did. First, the simple part."

With that blood red fingernail, Jean pointed to a glass bowl of pretzels and peanuts, recently refilled, sitting on the other side of the bar next to the large aluminum can filled with said salty mix that the bartender had used to refill the glass bowl, and the others like it sitting on various tables throughout the bar. Without much hesitation, the bowl rose in the air, and quickly scooted across thin air, before being expertly set down on the table in front of the Detective.

"First part, telekinesis. So if you find yourself surrounded by guns, or someone takes a stab at you, odds are I could help."

Jean's eyes were waiting for the bartender's, having peeled off the Detective mid-way through the stunt with the bowl of salty snacks, knocking the bartender would look. He did, and even to her own surprise, he did little more than offer her a little smirk before going back to the business of inventory. A quick flip of her eyes back to the Detective, and Jean was left considering the best way to show him her next skill.

In the end, she decided on throwing him in the deep end for a moment. "Second part, telepathy. 'Talking Heads' isn't a bad way to describe how the world is to me. Whether part of their active thoughts, or in the passive bits of their subconcious--even dead people, given they haven't been that dead for that long. Here, have a listen."

Jean first did it to Scott years ago. It was the same concept of throwing head phones on a person...if those headphones were attached to the mind of every person within a hundred feet. He'd hear their own conversation echoed in the barkeep as he eavesdropped, intent on telling his girlfriend about the incident later. He'd see himself, through Jean's eyes. He'd hear a man walking past the bar on the sidewalk outside lament his secret lifestyle as a crossdresser. He'd smell the world through a dog's nose for a few seconds. A jambling mess of thoughts and feelings and sights and sounds that swirled and blurred together like an invisible maelstrom of psychic energies hovering over Opal City like the storm to end all storms. Save it was sunny outside, the streets slick from a quick morning shower, and there were no storms coming.

None of the kind that the people of Opal City would see coming, anyway.

"That's how I found you. I listened. Trained to filter the white noise and find what I want. The people of this city have accepted you as a fixture of Opal; I think that surprised me more than anything. Many see you as a talking chimp, a side show, sure enough--but to many more, dammit, you're THEIR talking chimp. Most the people that were cursing you...well, let's just say it was due to your sunny disposition, instead of the fact that you're a chimpanzee."

Jean's eyes darted to the index cards, and back to the Detective; her tone as dry as the Scotch. "Quite charming. Really." It was a tease, highlighted by the way her eyes snuck another quick look at him after the "Really", the way the corner of her lips threatened another small smile in his direction. "But what I'm here for is too important to be dissuaded by anti-social behavior. So, now that you know what I do and why I'm here, more or less, maybe you want to tell me a little bit about your current mystery?...or you could be a jerk, share nothing, and just have me walk behind you and make sure you don't die until you can help me. I suppose it is up to you."

Another sip, longer and harsher and thirsty, and the weighted bottom of the suddenly empty Scotch glass smacked against the top of the bar. "One more, please, sir."

As he spoke, Thor placed Mjolnir upon Corben's back and let go. The weight of the hammer sent Corben's body to the floor and pressed his face into the rubble; try as he might Corben could not shift the hammer even a fraction. The situation, as far as Thor saw it, was contained and his message was clear.

"What say you?"

New Troy, Metropolis

Clark had no idea what Thor was doing there, let alone why he thought Superman meant Corben any harm. It had been Corben that had called Superman out by name. He'd sought out the conflict, not Superman, so the idea that he ever intended to hurt Corben left Clark completely confused. He was many things but vengeful was not one of them. He'd learned a long time ago that vengeance never worked. Plus there were still so many questions that Clark needed answered. The "creature" would go unharmed.

"I'm not sure what your employer has told you but that's not my style, Thor."

Corben struggled beneath Thor's hammer in vain as Clark strode over to him, extending a hand in the hammer's direction, and wrapping his palm around the handle. Thor looked nonplussed as the Man of Steel bent his wrist in an attempt to lift Thor's hammer free of the defeated Corben.

"Though I appreciate the gesture, Corben is leaving with me. He won't come to any harm, that much I can promise you, but he does have things he needs to answer to. Like why he thought blasting half of Downtown Metropolis to pieces was a good idea and what he thought he was going to achieve by doing it. Or who put him up to it."

A muffled groan left Clark's mouth as he struggled with the weight of Thor's weapon. His face turned red with exertion as he pulled on it, desperate to yank it free, and Thor watched on with a self-satisfied smile. For a fraction of a section the hammer seemed to move a hundredth of an inch, so briefly that the movement could have been lost between blinks, but Thor noticed it. His smile disappeared. It was only until the hammer refused to budge an inch further that the Asgardian allowed himself to smile again. The Kryptonian was aware Diana was watching on and suddenly became conscious of his failure. He looked to Thor with a coy smile and gestured to the hammer resting on Corben.

"I'm going to need you to move this thing."

LexCorp Building, Metropolis

Lex watched on, glass of scotch in hand, as the Odinson made his grand entrance. Luthor had hoped that his Asgardian foot-soldier might be capable of retrieving Corben without making a scene but that hope had long since been dashed. There were, as ever when Superman was concerned, television cameras all over the place. Lex would no doubt have to answer the other Justice Leaguer's questions when they returned. He would have answers prepared by then, ones that would be more than convincing enough, but Luthor didn't appreciate dancing to someone else's tune. He was so used to being in control that he could barely stand it on those rare occasions that he wasn't.

"So much for discretion."

He muttered to himself as a dozen cameras flashed as Thor made contact with Superman and Wonder Woman. Luthor strode towards his television, swilling his scotch in his hand as he went, and stopped a mere inch from it. His face was so close to Superman's that he felt like he could see almost every detail to it. The Man of Steel's skin was perfectly even. It was usually unnaturally warm and full of life. Mere moments after Corben had drained him of his powers, he looked a shell of the man he usually appeared. It almost reminded Luthor of someone.

"Could it be...?"

In those features, Luthor searched for similarities with a remarkably similar-looking journalist whose acquaintance he had made but the day before. Kent, the farm boy from Kansas turned Daily Planet journalist, that had intrigued Lex so. As much as the billionaire was loathe to admit it, as he stared into Superman's face there was something of Kent to it. The door to Luthor's office clicked open and Mercy Graves stepped through it. She looked at Lex, slightly concerned at his proximity to the television screen.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

Lex stepped back from the screen, took a healthy mouthful of scotch, and gestured towards the Man of Steel on the screen, ignoring Wonder Woman and Thor completely.

"The energy that Corben wields, from the meteor rock, it seems to depower our fine, alien friend. He could barely stand. The only other person I've seen react to the rock like that was..."

Lex tailed off as his mind began to pick holes in the idea.

"Lex?"

Snapping out of his mental tangent, Luthor shook his head, dismissing the idea as absurd, and took another mouthful of scotch. He smiled in Mercy's direction, as if to put her concerns to bed, and sauntered back towards the desk he had previously been sat at.

"Forget about it. I'm being ridiculous. The stress of having Corben stolen from me must be taking more of a toll than I thought."

Mercy smiled, following after Lex, and perching on the end of the desk to watch the goings-on.

"Well, at least we might finally find out how well Thor stacks up against Superman."

A derisive titter left Lex's lips.

"With all those cameras around? No, not even Superman is that stupid."

"No, but Thor certainly is."

Lex smiled. There was more than enough truth to that. The Odinson was the bluntest instrument that Luthor had in his toolbox. Though regaining Corben was his first concern, Luthor was more than intrigued to find out whether his God of Thunder could break the Man of Steel. With Wonder Woman in tow, it shortened the odds against the Odinson somewhat but if there was a warrior on Earth capable of overcoming both Superman and Wonder Woman, it was him. Plus as invaluable as Thor had proven to Lex, if he were to fall in battle, Lex could always buy another one. It was what he'd sunk billions into Cadmus for, after all.

New York City was not a new place for Kitty. She had grown up here. It was where she spent the vast majority of her life before leaving for Xavier’s Mansion, and it was where her mother still lived. Still, ever since the Brotherhood attack on President Kelly, New York was not the place she once considered it.

Not for mutants at least.

She remembered reading about how Muslim, or anyone who looked like they could be Muslim, people were treated after the attacks on the World Trade Center, and she figured it was a lot similar. The only difference was, it was normally hard to tell who was a mutant. Instead of horrible treatment of people who looked a certain way, there was just a general air of mistrust that hung over the city. With all the propaganda spread about mutants, it wasn’t hard to understand how people could be wary. They believed the person next to them at the deli could blow the city block up with his mind at any second.

She didn’t blame the humans for being afraid. When the people that are supposed to be leading you are feeding you frightening lies, of course you’re going to be afraid. It’s too easy to blame the bigot on the street for repeating what society tells him.

Still, walking these streets was no longer as fun as it once was.

“Are you okay, Ms. Pryde?” Professor McCoy leaned over and asked. He was currently camouflaged in a holographic projection. Instead of looking like his normal, furry self, Hank now looked like a fairly normal, if not burly, man. It was one of his own designs, built with the help of some of his friends. Hank loved being around people. It was a shame this was the only way it was possible.

“Fine,” she nodded. “It’s just…”

“Odd, I know,” he smiled sympathetically. “When a place ceases to be our home, it never feels quite the same again, does it?”

“No it does not professor,” she shook her head.

“Can we get pizza later?” Bobby asked as he rubbed his stomach.

“Are you serious?” Kitty smacked him on the back of the head. “Can you think of anything else?”

“We’re in New York!? What else is there to think of?” He answered defensively.

“Boys,” Kitty muttered. “Maybe the mission?”

The mission. The X-Men mission they were currently on. The more she thought about it, the more she was aware of the new team jumpsuit she was wearing under her street clothes. It felt too big for her, even if it was specifically made to compliment her skills and powers. It was like when she had tried on her mom’s clothes when she was a kid. It didn’t feel natural. Not yet, at least.

“Do you hear that?” Bobby stopped as the group passed a stoop.

They turned back to listen to the sounds coming out of a radio a group of locals was listening to. Coming from the speakers is the voice of a riled up evangelical preacher, “We were made in the image of the lord, our God. He made us to be perfect in every way and to be stewards of this beautiful Eden he created for us. So I ask you, my flock, who are the mutants an image of!?”

“Satan!” A group of people yell back at the man.

“From your mouth to our Lord’s ears, my friends!” The preacher responds. “The mutant scourge is the product of the enemy of God, the Prince of Lies, Lucifer the Fallen Angel. They are his demon horde that walks among us, and it is our duty to make sure they do not overwhelm us. It is our job to save our Eden from these serpents! I call for you all to urge our president to deal with these devils as swiftly as possible. Our survival as a species depends on it!”

Kitty’s blood begins to boil as the broadcast cuts away to a news reporter, “And those were the inflammatory words of Reverend William Stryker today at a rally in New York City. Stryker, one of the leading voices in the Anti-Mutant crusade, is also the most controversial, often calling for violence against the newly discovered mutant population. It is believed that his rhetoric has been the fuel behind a rash of mutant lynchings in the midwest.”

McCoy ferried them away from the report, as he could see Bobby was about to say something, and Kitty’s hands were balled into fists of rage. They continued toward the Lee residence as the sun began to set. But as they approached their endpoint, what they saw took them aback. A mob of people stood outside the home, throwing rocks, bottles, and anything else they could get their hands on. Obscenities were yelled towards the family inside.

“Oh my stars and garters,” Beast said with exasperation. “This is not what we needed to see.”

“What are we going to do, Professor?” Bobby worriedly asked the elder mutant.

“Kitty,” he looked at the girl, “Can you get inside and get them out at the end of the street?”

She nodded, “I can do that.”

“Good, get in, and get them out safely,” he smiled comfortingly. “Meanwhile Bobby and I will go retrieve the vehic-”

“Molotov!” Bobby yelled as a flaming bottle flew out of the crowd towards the home. The mutant known as Iceman didn’t waste any time. He froze the water particles in a stream of air between him and the bottle, saving the building from being torched.

Unfortunately, it also got the attention of the mob.

“There’s more of them freaks!”

“He shot at us! He did!”

“Get em!”

Shadowcat turned to her teammates quickly, “Go. Run. I’ll get the girl and her mother. You need to get out of here.”

Before they answered, Kitty took off in a sprint towards the mob. The first person she reach, a burly man with a shaved head and a swastika tattooed on his shoulder, took a swing at her with the tire iron he brandished. The object passed right through her skull, and she laughed as it did, “Better luck next time, Herr Douchebag.”

With a wink, she continued running, passing right through the incensed crowd. Each person she ran through freaked out in such a delicious way, she almost wanted to do it more. But she was an X-Man, and she had a mission to complete.

Before long, she passed through the front of the house, and began searching for Jubilation and her mother. Kitty found them, huddled in a closet. When she opened the door, they recoiled in fear, but she smiled warmly, “It’s okay. My name is Kitty Pryde. I’m with the X-Men. I’m here to get you out of here.”

That was when the second molotov cocktail shattered through the first floor window.

---

Piotr stood in the doorway as the other mutant held a gun to the Purifiers who then backed away towards the door... only to be grabbed by vines. Obviously this mutant had been doing this for a long time, she knew what she was doing. He found it odd that the Professor hadn't tried to recruit her before now, let alone never heard about her. What confused him was when she announced that Sarah was her daughter. He lowered his arm and threw a Purifier who was reaching for a grenade towards the vines in the hope that the woman in control of the vines grabbed the body of the threat. He picked up the grenade and looked over it as he held it in his hand, it wasn't quite normal. Same as the weapons. He dropped it to the floor, he had no doubt S.H.I.E.L.D would get involved sooner or later. He'd let them take care of that.

Piotr walked into the back room where the woman had come from, looking at the door that should taken them upstairs. He pushed the door in and there was an explosion that sent him back the door on top of him and pushing him into the ground. "I think I have found them Comrade!" He stood himself up and walked back to the stairs. He could hear muffled screaming from up the stairs. He had found her, they'd deal with the semantics later. Up the stairs, creaking and bending in his wake. He crashed through the door and there she was, a girl scared out of her mind being held by an elderly looking woman with a gun to her temple.

"Get back demon!"

"I do not mean to hurt you. Let go of your weapon, and let the girl go."

"I only take orders from the mouth of God!"

"I do not know much about God, however I do know one saying. God is love. Would a loving God command you to do this to another living being?"

"Yes when that being is spawn of the devil, now begone! So I can cure this child of her ills."

"She is but a child, has done no wrong in her life. Please, just let her go. Before you do something you cannot take back." Piotr took a small step forward, raising his hands in a non-threatening manner. If that woman truly had a significant connection to Sarah the last thing he wanted was for her to get up here... armed before Sarah was safe.

---

---

New Troy - Metropolis - United States - Midgard

---

---

"Though I appreciate the gesture, Corben is leaving with me. He won't come to any harm, that much I can promise you, but he does have things he needs to answer to. Like why he thought blasting half of Downtown Metropolis to pieces was a good idea and what he thought he was going to achieve by doing it. Or who put him up to it."

Thor's eyebrow raised in amusement as Superman postured, the ego the alien possessed was evident; he had clearly assumed that Thor was addressing him rather than the lovely and much deadlier Wonder Woman. Thor was too chivalrous to do such a thing, he absently wondered where this blue-clad vigilante had learned his manners; on Asgard such uncouth displays were only common from farmers.

As Superman drew closer to Corben Thor shifted his stance just enough to potentially intercept the other man should he attempt to harm the prisoner. It turned out Thor needn't have bothered. The idiot was attempting to shift Mjolnir.

Thor's expression shifted to a grin as he thought back to a bout with a mighty Troll in one of the many tournaments he had competed in. During their bout Thor's opponent had knocked him down and, rather than press the attack, the Troll had latched onto Mjolnir and attempted to claim possession in some bid for a trophy. The face of the Troll as it strained and deployed its strength to lift the magic hammer was a sight that Thor had never forgotten.

As he looked at Superman Thor could have sworn the alien's features were set in exactly the same expression as that of the Troll.

Then Mjolnir moved.

The briefest and smallest of shifts, any other man would have missed it; but to Thor time seemed to slow to a crawl and every single instant was etched onto his mind. The grunt of Superman's exertion, the miniscule scrape of uru on metal as Corben's body was roughly marked by Mjolnir's blunt stone. The worst thing though, was how the alien's eyes shifted to stare at Thor's and the slightest hint of a surprised grin on his over-formed features.

As suddenly as it began, the movement stopped and Superman's muscles resumed their fruitless labours. Thor forced a smile back onto his face before the alien's eyes looked past him to Wonder Woman. There was the briefest pause before Superman sheepishly released Mjolnir and flashed a too-perfect smile at its owner.

"I'm going to need you to move this thing."

Despite his smile Thor's good humour was a thing of the past. That an alien to both Asgard and Earth could have any effect on Mjolnir rankled at him.

"Thy words are pretty but thy actions reveal thee to be unworthy, no better than the lowest farmer of Asgard." As Thor spoke, the rain fell down heavier and the rumble of thunder began to sound in the near distance. "Indeed, thy quarry has much to answer for but he will answer to the Justice League."

Thor placed a boot atop Corben's back, keeping him hopelessly pinned as he retrieved Mjolnir and hefted it in a burly grip. He made sure to emphasise the ease with which he lifted his hammer.

"Thou hast no authority here, alien."

New Troy, Metropolis

Clark listened as Diana chastised both her and Thor for their bravado. If Thor had been quick to seek out conflict with the pair, perhaps there was some truth that Clark had indulged him in it too readily. Ultimately, regardless of Clark's opinion of Luthor, Thor was still one of the good guys. At least, Clark thought he was. He had met Captain America a week or so ago and had been taken aback by how independent-minded and incisive he had seemed. It boggled Clark's mind that the Captain might answer to Luthor without a suspicion as to the billionaire's murky past or dodgy dealing. Perhaps there was more going on there than met the eye. Clark knew one thing though, if Steve Rogers trusted Thor then perhaps Clark ought to too. It almost felt juvenile to admit it, but part of Clark's trust in Captain America was rooted in Jonathan Kent's idealisation of the man. He could only hope that in this, as with all things, Jonathan Kent was correct. Otherwise there would be hell to pay for everyone involved.

"That won't be necessary."

Clark muttered as he extended his arm in Diana's direction.

"It might go against my better instincts but... I'm going to trust you with Corben's wellbeing. I'm going to trust that should I visit Luthor's Watchtower I'll find Corben in good condition, able to account for his actions this day, and entirely unharmed. I'm going to trust that you won't mistreat him or that he won't somehow disappear between now and then. If you're half the man the legends say you are, Thor, you'll see to it that your League is true to its name and Corben sees justice."

The Man of Steel made sure to place real emphasis on the next sentence.

"Real justice."

It was a change of tact. Not one that Clark suspected Diana would approve of given she had backed him so whole-heartedly – as she always did. There was more behind Clark's sudden volte-face than he dared admit. It was clear the Thunderer was spoiling for a fight. Clark wasn't in a position to give him one, his body still felt weak from Corben's meteor energy, and more importantly, there were too many people around for something like that. He wouldn't risk endangering them. They were the reason Clark pulled the cape on. He would never endanger them if he could avoid it.

Plus it didn't take a genius to figure out where Corben had come from. Kent had seen the meteor rock that day in Luthor's office, he'd listened as Lex had bragged about the meteor rock generator that was going to change the world, and barely a day afterwards Corben had appeared. Luthor had sent him to test Clark. There was no doubt about that. Kent needed hard evidence that it was true before he could act. Even with this, he wasn't sure whether he could make his move, but it was the clearest sign from Luthor that he was ratcheting up the intensity of his war with Superman. Corben had almost bested him, almost drained the life from him, and Lex had to have seen that. There was no telling whether Clark would survive the next encounter with Lex's next creation.

But he needed more than suspicions, more than half-baked deductions, if he was going to bring Luthor's empire down. He would let Thor take Corben and hope that Lex would slip up. Clark only wished he had the time to explain the plan to Diana but Thor's intransigence had forced him to think on his feet. The Man of Steel wasn't sure whether it would work but it was certainly a gambit worthy of Lex and Clark's never-ending chess match.


"And if he doesn't? If some timely accident were to befall Corben that left him incapable of answering for his crimes or were he to suddenly disappear from the face of the Earth without explanation," Clark said with a glower in the Asgardian's direction that signalled the righteous fury behind the Kryptonian's words. "I want you to know that I would hold you personally accountable."

To Scott Lang’s delight, it would seem that the Bug-Eyed Bandit already had an arch-nemesis. Well he did, before he had been murdered. After returning to the Watchtower and doing a quick internet search, Scott found himself a range of footage of the purple clad man fighting none other than the Atom. It was a well-known fact that the two super-shrinkers had a feud, with a clip of the two bickering once hitting the news a few months prior. So needless to say, knowing that Palmer used to deal with a guy named the Bug-Eyed Bandit warmed Scott’s heart slightly. It was the newfound excitement from this fact that enabled Scott to continue with the case. Despite Bertram Larvan’s demise, there was still a Bug-Eyed Bandit out there. Sure he could have just left it for the Atom to take care of, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, this new Bug-Eyed Bandit was attractive!

It didn’t take long for Raz and Scott to find out who she was, due to the fact that unsurprisingly, Bertram didn’t know many attractive blondes. Before the duo had their culprit; Brie Larvan. His daughter. After some digging, it would seem that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in this case. Much like her father, she had a degree in robotics from Ivy University. Top of her class it would seem. Her end of year project? You’ve guessed it; robot insects. It said that they had originally been for agricultural purposes, however after comparing the designs with that of the robotic insect that Professor Pym had captured during the attack on his lab, Scott found that they were practically one and the same; albeit weaponized. Brie must had been working on them with her father.

Still, this didn’t explain why she had killed her own father. The mere thought seemed absurd to Scott. All he knew, was that she needed to be stopped.

But how? Finding a solution wasn’t going to be an issue however as the answer was simple. Scott just had to do something smart!

After a quick trip to the armoury within the miniature laboratory located inside the Ant-Man helmet, Scott had exactly what he needed. A series of electrical EMP coils. Pym had created the things a long time ago during his days as Ant-Man. They hadn’t come to much use, until now! Using his helmet, he summoned a whole swarm to come and assist him. Paratrechina longicornis, or Crazy Ants if you don’t want to sound pretentious, had always been a keep part of Scott’s arsenal. Owing their name to way they dashed around erratically, the crazy bastards were great for carrying electrical equipment, for the sole reason that they’re conductors. They were perfect!

What followed was a strenuous hour of Scott strapping on the numerous devices to the creature’s backs. The task proved difficult, given the ant’s crazy nature, although they were no match for the energy that Scott’s coffee had brought to him. So in no time at all, Scott was suited back up, helmet under his shoulder, his ants ready. While he had been working, he had gotten Raz on the job of locating the Bug-Eyed Bandit, and like the tech-whiz he was, he had finally found her. Unfortunately, Scott wasn’t keen on the news of her location.

He was going back to Ivy Town.

Blackie may not be what you'd call a "reliable witness," but he wasn't lying about the Cluemaster's hideout. I've got no idea where Arthur Brown raised funds for his burgeoning criminal empire, but he's obviously spared no expense on security. The abandoned factory is crawling with what I can only assume are private contractors, guns-for-hire that all look like UFC rejects toting serious hardware. Fortunately, very few hideouts account for an approach from above. From a nearby roof, I form a Spider-Man sized slingshot by firing webs at neighboring steam pipes. I launch myself across the gap between buildings, feeling the night wind rush past my masked face. As I land with a tumble, Spider-Sense confirms that my little stunt went unseen. I can only hope that the rest of the rescue mission goes as smoothly.

Accessing the factory from the roof is simple enough when one can crawl on walls. While the lower windows are mostly boarded-up, the higher stuff is ripe for the taking. I stick close to the ceiling, using the shadows to my advantage. There's a guard patrolling the catwalks just below me; nothing the element of surprise and a little webbing can't handle. Once he's disposed of, I have the catwalks to myself. Still, I tread carefully, knowing that the ol' red-and-blue will stick out like a sore thumb if someone thinks to glance up this way. Like the outside, the interior of the factory is an ant farm of douchebags. They've set up staging tables below with an assortment of goodies: guns, money, pills, and the like. It's the fixture at the center of the room that has drawn my eye, though.

Dangling from a chain on the ceiling is Spoiler, looking a little more tattered than the last time I saw her. Beneath her, a furnace of molten metal gently bubbles. I swing across the vast expanse of the factory towards her, taking care to land carefully and not set the chain rattling too loudly. From up here, the heat of the furnace feels a bit like an open oven door. Spoiler immediately looks up, and though I can't see her expression beneath the mask, I'm sure there's no lack of surprise. "You know, there are better ways to get a tan," I say softly. I start climbing down the chain towards her.

"How did you find me?" Spoiler whispers, her voice betraying her weariness. I don't blame her; I've only been baking in this heat for thirty seconds, and I already feel my strength being sapped away.

"Believe it or not, I'm actually kinda good at this 'crime-fighting' thing."

"Better than me, apparently," she says bitterly. As she hangs her head, she continues, "I was so stupid. I should have known the breadcrumbs were too big. They were baiting me into a trap, and I fell right into it."

I get to the point where Spoiler's wrists are wrapped up in the chains. I'll probably have to snap one or two of the links to get her free. "Hey, we all make mistakes in the beginning," I offer. I need to lift her spirits if I'm going to get her out of here. "You know, I once got between a guy and girl who I thought were fighting; turns out it was some kinda weird fetish thing? As soon as I turned the guy's wrist, the girl started beating me over the head with her purse."

That earns a chuckle. "Seriously? Well, I take it back; you're awful at this."

"Careful now. I could still decide to leave you here..."

Spider-Sense! I barely move out of the way, swinging up the chain, as a bullet loudly ricochets off one of the links. I snap my head around in the direction of the shot. Standing on a balcony by the abandoned manager's office is a blond-haired man dressed in tactical gear; his long ponytail hangs over the bandanna that covers the lower half of his face. Bandoliers criss-cross his chest, toting capsules and grenades of all sorts. "Daddy dearest?" I ask Spoiler. She nods.

Smoke curls from the muzzle of Cluemaster's rifle. "Spider-Man! So happy you could make it. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't hear about me capturing the amateur."

"The amateur?" I repeat with a glance at Spoiler. "Does that make me the professional? Finally, some well-earned respect!"

"I was content to let you chase your own tail, confident that you posed no serious threat to my operations, but after your... interruption... on the docks, Hammerhead made his terms clear; eliminate Spider-Man, and I would get my seat at the table. But how? How best to draw you out? Then, my men reported something interesting. When this girl's life was threatened, you leapt to her aid." He gives a mocking clap. "The bane of the hero: the obligation to protect and save others. So, I figured I could eliminate two birds with one stone. You see, Spoiler's not the only one foolish enough to walk into an obvious trap."

Spider-Sense blares again as Cluemaster's men take aim. I'm forced to leap for the catwalks as the bullets start flying. The Cluemaster wastes no time exploiting my natural reflex. At the press of a button, a small detonator unmoors the chain holding Spoiler from the ceiling. She lets out a terrified shout as she begins to plummet towards the liquid metal below. Leaping won't get me there in time; I have to trust my aim under fire. Luckily, my web-line is true, and I catch the end of Spoiler's chain. Giving it a yank, I swan-dive from the catwalks and catch Spoiler in my arms. We land ungracefully, but at least we're alive. Without a moment's hesitation, we roll behind an empty furnace for cover.

"I need my gear!" Spoiler shouts over the clang of gunfire around us.

"Where?" She nods her head towards the manager's office, one level above the factory floor. I grimace. "Alright. Keep your head down." I wait for the pause in the shooting before making my move. No sooner have I landed on the office's balcony than my Spider-Sense compels me to duck. The butt of Cluemaster's rifle arcs just above my head. I sweep the Cluemaster's legs out from under him, smacking away his rifle as he falls. A swift kick to the chest sends him skidding across the metal grating of the balcony. Sure enough, Spoiler's utility belt is dangling from a hook just inside the door of the office. I snatch it quickly and call out, "Spoiler! Catch!"

She leaps, making the connection with the belt mid-tumble, before disappearing again behind a pillar. I don't have time to track her; Cluemaster has recovered and is upon me again. He throws a few desperate haymakers that are all-too-easy to dodge. He's not an unskilled fighter, but he is clearly untrained. And I've gone up against far worse. After a wild right hook whiffs, I quickly web Cluemaster's fist to the balcony railing. He nearly pulls his arm out of its socket trying to break free. "Now, who's trapped?" I grab him by one of his bandoliers and toss him over the railing. His webbed hand brings him to a sudden halt, and he lets out a pained yelp.

By the time I turn my attention to the factory floor, I find that Spoiler's been hard at work. There are already men lying on the floor, and clouds of smoke from her grenades continue to linger. I can't let her have all the fun, though. Before I leap down to join her, I retrieve the automatic camera from my belt and place it in an optimal position. After that, it's just a matter of hamming it up for the camera. The hardware that Cluemaster has procured makes his men more of a threat than most, but it'll be a cold day in Hell before hired thugs take down Spider-Man! (Okay, so maybe I shouldn't tempt fate like that...) Spoiler and I even manage a few team-up knockouts that are sure to look great, as long as the camera isn't out-of-focus. Within minutes, we've subdued the crowd.

Once the dust has settled, I stand by Spoiler's side as we look up at the dangling Arthur Brown. He's fallen unconscious, either from the shock or the struggle. "Well, you did it. How does it feel?"

"You did it," she corrects me. As she folds her arms, she sighs and adds, "But it doesn't matter how he was caught; only that he was. Maybe seeing the consequences of this life will sober him up, and he can go back to being a dad." Her tone betrays a lack of hope in that possibility. I want to comfort her, but it doesn't seem like the time.

"So, your crusade is over. Does that mean this is the last time I'll see you?"

Beneath her hood, she turns her head towards me. "I don't know. What would you do?"

I motion to my costume. "You've seen what I would do."

At that, she can only nod. "I think for now... I'm just going to enjoy this sense of accomplishment."

"That's fair." I snatch up my automatic camera with a web-line while Spoiler's attention is focused on the Cluemaster. As I return it to my belt, I turn to leave. The approaching sound of sirens confirms that Cluemaster and all his men will be sorted out shortly. Before I go, I turn back to Spoiler and say, "For the record, though, you could feel this way all the time. Just food for thought." I fire a web-line at the ceiling and begin to swing away, letting Spoiler have a moment of silent contemplation at the end of her journey.

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New Troy - Metropolis - United States - Midgard

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Thor was vexed.

The heat of the moment had gotten to him, he realised, and for all the Man of Steel's faults he did have a history of dealing with the problems of Metropolis. Loath as he was to admit it, Thor knew Wonder Woman was correct, he was acting foolishly. He took a breath to deliver an apology-

Then Superman spoke once more.

"It might go against my better instincts but... I'm going to trust you with Corben's wellbeing. I'm going to trust that should I visit Luthor's Watchtower I'll find Corben in good condition, able to account for his actions this day, and entirely unharmed. I'm going to trust that you won't mistreat him or that he won't somehow disappear between now and then. If you're half the man the legends say you are, Thor, you'll see to it that your League is true to its name and Corben sees justice. Real justice."

'I'm going to trust you'? Thor felt his mood darken once more, the arrogance of the man! Thor was many things but he was not dishonourable enough to harm a prisoner, much less let one of his compatriots do so.

The man just would not cease his prattle. Talking to Thor like he was a mere child, 'personally accountable' indeed! Thor's hand tightened around Mjolnir's hilt as he fought the urge to split the alien's head open like a difficult nail.

Instead, Thor took a moment to study Superman, he certainly did not seem fully recovered but he had the spark of determination and righteous anger in his eyes. Thor recognised the look, he had seen it in his own features often enough. He did not know if the ire was truly directed at him or at Lex but, truthfully, he cared not.

"I take thy meaning." Thor spoke softly while he reached down to Corben, with a swift movement he lifted the man until he was hefted over Thor's shoulder. "Now take mine."

Thor could have sworn that Superman flinched as Corben's body rose into the air, interesting.

"Thy conduct toward the Justice League has been most unbecoming. If thy purpose is to aid those in need, as it appears, thy mistrust of my compatriots can only foster the same in those we seek to protect..." Thor sighed, this was not the time for such a conversation. He nodded briefly to both Superman and Wonder Woman, "For all our differences, I wish thee well."

With that, the rain and thunder ceased as Thor swung Mjolnir and launched both himself and Corben into the air. He hurtled away from New Troy and sped towards the Lexcorp building he had left.

With barely a twist in direction Thor flew back into Lexcorp and found himself in Lex's office. He landed with a thud, making sure Corben was secure on his shoulder. He studied both Lex and Mercy carefully.

"Lex, I would have words with thee."

"Batman." Slade Wilson responded, acknowledging his opponent coldly. The mercenary's hand wrapped around the hilt of his katana, drawing the weapon out of its sheathe with a sharp pull. He charged toward the vigilante, using his enhanced speed to its peak effect. Slade feinted a slash across Batman's chest but instead used his momentum to leap over the Dark Knight. Before his feet had even hit the ground, Slade unleashed a simple two-hit combination of one fronthand and one backhand slice. The Terminator jumped backwards to avoid a counter attack from the caped crusader. "I underestimated you in our first encounter. I won't do that again." Deathstroke bitterly recalled his first battle with Batman. He had criminally underrated the vigilante's sharp intelligence and fierce fighting style. Slade had excepted nothing more than some insane fool in a cape and mask. Instead, Wilson found himself confronting a bonafide master martial artist and excellent tactician. The display had been utterly humiliating for the Terminator, whom hadn't suffered such clear defeat in hand to hand combat since his first days in Team 7.

Deathstroke wasn't a braggart. However, he was pragmatic; Slade knew that he was an exceptional fighter. Amanda Waller had expressed that Slade could very well have been among the top fifty best martial artists on earth, thanks entirely to his training with Natas, Kaine, Taskmaster and other lesser known masters. But next to Batman? Slade's skills were a joke. Without his powers to even out the playing field, the Terminator could never beat the World's Greatest Detective. Their first encounter had ingrained this fact into Deathstroke's perfect memory. He can still remember each and every lightning fast nerve strike the Bat had used to disable Slade's arms. And try as he might, Wilson could never replicate the feat; he always ended up snapping his opponent's bones in half through sheer force. It was irritating to say the least.

For the past year, Slade had spent every moment he wasn't on the field perfecting his sword fighting and hand to hand techniques. His battle with Batman had been a wake up call. Now Wilson found himself face to face with the man who had totally humiliated him, armed with the knowledge and preparation to potentially defeat him. This was not a victory Slade would allow to slip through his fingers.

Deathstroke waited for the perfect moment. He parried, blocked and dodged Batman's safer moves, only occasionally going in for a conservative stab when he knew the vigilante couldn't counter. He made use of the Renzoku waza combination attacks; a feinted fronthand into a weak backhand, finally finishing in a powerful fronthand strike capable of rending steel. That was mostly just to keep the Bat guessing. The real goal was to wait for Bats to attempt an attack that wasn't totally safe. Something has simple as a sidekick, or a punch. Deathstroke utilized his enhanced reflexes to catch Batman out in an attack that, under normal circumstances, couldn't be effectively countered. He would strike out with his Wakizashi (he would likely be in too close quarters to use his full sized blade anyway) at the Achilles tendon or radial artery, depending on what move he chose to counter. The Adamantium/Promethium alloy in the weapon would hopefully allow it to pierce the Dark Knight's notoriously tough armor.

Here's hoping he's no swordsman.

Clark let out a sigh as his eyes narrowed. He watched as Thor carried John Corben towards the LexCorp building. For a moment, Clark's resolve was shaken as he wondered whether he'd done the right thing, but it strengthened up recalling his meeting with Steve Rogers. Even under Lex's influence, Clark hoped that Captain America would see to it that the League did the right thing by Corben. There was part of him that needed to believe that. His father, Jonathan Kent, had idolised Captain America and held him up as a bastion of truth, justice, and the American way to the young Clark Kent. He needed that to be true.

"Trust me, Diana, I don't like it any more than you do. The energy that Corben was giving off came from a meteor rock that originated from my planet. There are only two men on Earth that have access to that substance – Lex Luthor and Victor Von Doom. Lex is involved, somehow, and Thor arriving here despite Corben being headed in the opposite direction of the Watchtower only proves that. What we don't know is how much Thor and the rest of the Justice League know about it."

The Man of Steel looked away from Thor and towards Diana, whose unhappiness was clear on her face.

"Now, unless you were intending on using that lasso of yours on Thor, the only way of finding out how much he and the League knows is by letting him take Corben and watching them. I want to see how they react, what kind of scrutiny they put Lex under, and see whether he's made to account for this at all or whether they give him a pass. We need to know where the League stands."

Clark took a step closer to Diana, lower his voice a little, suddenly aware of how exposed they were out in the public. He needed to be careful what he said. As popular as Superman was, he'd burned through some of his popularity by making a stand over the Mutant Registration Act, and his dislike of Luthor was well-documented, the last thing he needed was to add fuel to that fire – it was why he'd done his damnedest to avoid a conflict with Thor.

"If we're ever going to do something about Lex, we can't risk all out war with them and our Asgardian friend seemed all too keen for the three of us to come to blows. That's not something I wanted to happen. I should have run it by you, I understand that, but I didn't exactly have much time."

Danny Rand’s Apartment

If you’ve never hung out with your ex-girlfriend while researching a snake assassin and some ancient Indian rock, let me tell you, it’s a hoot. So far, other than asking for a glass of water, Misty and I haven’t said a word to one another. There’s been a few fits and starts, some long looks, and a ton of awkward silence, but I’ve learned more about what the hell I’m up against than where Misty’s head’s at.

“Find anything?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me. She’s been staring out the window at the city for the past twenty minutes, probably worried about the others. I don’t blame her. This isn’t anything I want to be doing either.

“Sorta, yea,” I nod. “The exhibit focused on ancient religions and artifacts of them. The Indian section focused on old, Hindu cults. It was believed to contain treasures that could shape the world. What the rock she took was actually supposed to do I can’t say yet. But I’m doing my best to find it.”

“And her?” she asks, this time not looking back.

“That is a much more interesting story,” I respond, tapping the side of the bed where I’ve slid my legs to the side. I hope she’ll take the seat, but I’m not holding my breath. So I’m surprised when she approaches and playfully pushes me over, slipping under the covers and throwing her arm around my waist. It’s a familiar position, one that the two of us have slipped into on countless nights. Normally we’d lay like this and watch an old kung fu movie, marvelling at how freaking good Bruce Lee was. It feels like an eon ago.

My brain clicks off for a moment, and I forget where I am. It’s like it’s two years ago, back when I was far more naive and way more happy to be a superhero.

Her dark, deep eyes narrow, “So, Copperhead?”

“Huh? What? Oh, right,” I shake my head and try to regain my focus. There’s a job to be done. “I can’t find anything on this one, but there are, well others.”

“Others?” Misty squints at me.

“Yea, it looks like Copperhead may be part of a lineage,” I nod, starting to get excited at the prospect. I’m far more interested in the person who nearly killed me than I should be, truthfully, “There are stories of half-snake, half-man killers throughout history. Most are said to have killed people of import who encroached too far into exotic lands. Official cause of death is usually attributed to malaria or some kind of native disease. I’m willing to bet that’s because no one understood what that kind of poison could do.”

“Are there recent sightings?” she asks while putting her head on my shoulder.

“No,” I shake my head in frustration. “Some war letters in WWII mention snake people in the Pacific, some even insinuate they fought with the Japanese. Nothing substantial, though. Then nothing.”

Even though my brain is focused on finding out what’s going on, the haze of weakness begins to cloud my vision. I may have survived Copperhead’s poison, but it’s still taken a toll. My eyes droop, and my head bobs as I fight off sleep. Instead, Misty lays us down, her warm embrace ushering me into a restful sleep.

With that, the rain and thunder ceased as Thor swung Mjolnir and launched both himself and Corben into the air. He hurtled away from New Troy and sped towards the Lexcorp building he had left.

With barely a twist in direction Thor flew back into Lexcorp and found himself in Lex's office. He landed with a thud, making sure Corben was secure on his shoulder. He studied both Lex and Mercy carefully.

"Lex, I would have words with thee."

For several seconds after Thor had landed the floor continued to shake with the force. There, with Corben slung over his shoulder like a rag doll, Lex began to understand the power that the Asgardian wielded. The energy that Corben gave off was as to nothing to the God of Thunder and the mighty Uru hammer at his side. Lex stood up from his seat, flicking the television to his left off with the flick of a button, and lifted his palms in Thor's direction to greet him.

"You're back."

Lex smiled wryly.

"Not to imply that I doubted your abilities, Thor, but I wasn't expecting you so soon. You even managed to bring Corben back in one piece. I am impressed. Very impressed, indeed."

Luthor shot Mercy Graves, stood slightly behind him, a sideways look and murmured.

"Have the containment area prepared for Corben."

Mercy nodded.

"Right at once, Mr. Luthor."

As Mercy's footsteps sounded their way out of Lex's office, Luthor approached Thor with a smile, clapping the Asgardian on the back in congratulatory fashion as he reached him. There was no indecision or uncertainty to Lex's voice or facial expressions. He was projecting strength and confidence. He always projected strength and confidence. He was the smartest man alive. Even if it had taken Corben's involvement, Luthor had cracked using the meteor rock as an energy source where Reed Richards had failed to. Though the world seemed none the wiser to it, Lex knew the truth, it was he was the real Superman, the real ubermensch, and he was determined to show them all. To do that, he would need to convince Thor of his innocence and he couldn't afford to appear indecisive if he was going to do so.

"What is it that you would like to talk about, Thor? I do hope our red-caped friend hasn't been trying to fill your head with ideas."

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L E X C O R P B U I L D I N G - M E T R O P O L I S - U N I T E D S T A T E S - M I D G A R D

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"What is it that you would like to talk about, Thor? I do hope our red-caped friend hasn't been trying to fill your head with ideas."

Lex oozed confidence, Thor had known this as long as he had known the man. There was a subtle difference this time in the other man's demeanour that Thor could not quite place. As he stood in the centre of Lex's office Thor allowed his senses to open, he sensed the lightning pulsing through the building around him, much of it concentrated in this very room. A groan from Corben brought Thor's attention back to the here and now as the mechanical man retched.

"Thy conduct troubles me." He finally admitted, "This poor creature emerged from thy care and his misdeeds must reflect upon us all." He strode forward towards Lex's desk, keeping Corben gripped tightly all the while. "Furthermore, whence was he here and what was the purpose of his release?."

Thor knew Lex well enough to know that the other did nothing without a reason, however, Thor had been charged with Corben's care now and if Lex thought he would meekly surrender his prisoner without another word on the matter then he clearly did not know the God of Thunder as well as he thought. Still, the man had dealt fairly with Thor up until this point and the Odinson was willing to hear him out.

Nonetheless, Thor did not entirely like the look in Lex's eye, far too predatory for his liking. He twisted his body to place himself between Lex and Corben, partially for Lex's safety; the man had managed to harm Superman after all and Lex was merely human. But in his heart of hearts Thor was fully aware of who would be at a disadvantage should the two come to blows in this place.