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J U S T I C E L E A G U E
L E G A C Y

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A Cave in the Dark, Two weeks ago

_{Interacting with: Everyone}

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The damp, close, darkness had been all devouring. It had been all encompassing. It had been all concealing. Most importantly of all, it had been safe. The thick blackness had hidden the creature from prying eyes, the cloying, stale air had deterred even the most determined of human adventurer's from delving into those depths, and the unthinkably heavy mass of rock and dirt over it's head had helped shield it from those above. The creature in the shadows had hated this cave, this stifling cavern that had seemed to bend all it's ethereal, timeless power towards breaking it's spirit, but it had needed this place, needed to be cautious. But it didn't need to be so cautious any more, not now that the Martian was gone.

Not since the Justice League had disappeared.

The dweller in the dark had first detected the rumblings of the League's disappearance almost two weeks before. During it's sojourn on earth it had managed to create and maintain tendrils of it's own psychic power, using those tendrils to monitor the thoughts of the weak willed human populace, all while managing to keep it's own presence hidden from that Martian menace. It had first registered the League's disappearance as nothing more than a curiosity that piqued the interest of the humans, a mystery they were sure that would soon resolve itself. However the longer they went without any news on their heroes the more worried they became, until the unspoken fear that they were now alone and unprotected was eating them up inside, consuming them one by one. After all, how many times had their race stood upon the precipe of ruin, only for the Justice League to pull them back at the last moment?

Without the League, without their protectors, what was humanity save a gaggle of frightened monkeys, ripe for the slaughter. What was their planet, except a misused ball of resources, ready for the exploiting by a more advanced, civilized, educated race. As soon as the powers of the universe at large realized that the humans stood alone they would stumble over one another to be the first to lay claim to the blue planet. The dweller in the dark had to make certain that it's master was the first to arrive.

The creature sent it's psionic message out towards the the stars. . . .

. . . And in the deepest regions of uncharted space, in the inky blackness between the stars, something answered.

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The Watchtower, orbiting Earth, Now

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“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Watchtower!”



A tall young man stands in front of a group of eclectically dressed strangers and gestures expansively to their surroundings. They currently find themselves in a large domed room, ceiling mounted lights giving off a bright yet soft lighting. A grand circular, silver table sits upon a raised dais in the center of the room, the letters 'JL' emblazoned across it's surface. There are eight empty chairs, but no one has seated themselves thus far. One side of the paneled walls are bare, and seem to be constructed from a white thermoplastic, it's surface perfect and shining. The sliding door the group entered the room by lies somewhere along that wall, but the portal is closed now and the seam for the opening seems to be non-existent. While one half of the wall is as unassuming as one you'd expect to find in a dentist's office, the other's grandeur more than makes up for it.

Large bay windows open up upon a view only a handful of people have ever had the luck to gaze at. The dark fastness of space swirls upon the other side of that glass, it's eternity pressing down eternally mere feet away. Speckled like glitter upon a dark curtain lies the stars, beads of light twinkling merrily, painted out in stark relief. Light years away they might be, but out here they seem close enough to touch. In the foreground lies the real jewel of the piece however. Magnificent hues of blue, white, and green swirl together to form a vision that most only get to see in photographs. The earth spins serene and peaceful, as close to perfect as it's ever likely to get.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The young man who earlier welcomed the group to this hall is now gazing out the windows. He stands with one hand thrust into his leather jacket pocket, the other pressed up against the glass, leaning as casually as if he was in a bar.

"First time I seen it, it took my breath away. Words just failed me and all I could do was to stand and stare for what felt like a year, drinking in as much of the detail as I could. It's only afterwards did I realize that I did it all through my own tears. Couldn't figure out why I was crying at first, until I realized the tears were for in case I never got the opportunity to enjoy the view again." The man falls silent for a moment, running a hand through his long, slicked back hair, before returning his attention to the assembled group.

"See at the time I thought it was too good to be true, to be up here. To be with the League. To be standing in space, looking out a window and see the earth roll out in front of me. That just didn't happen to guys like me, a boy from Happy Harbour without a plan or a prayer. Heck, I didn't even have a college diploma. Part of me was scared, waiting for the other boot to drop, for someone to yank the opportunity away from me. Now though, I'm scared for different reasons. The League's gone, and without them that beautiful ball out there is in more peril than it's ever been in it's looong history. There's creatures out there that don't think all that highly of humanity or our place in the universe, creatures with the power to snuff us out like that." He snapped his fingers to cement his point, the resounding crack reverberating around the room.

The speakers long, sharp features eased into a grin after that, though it was one that didn't quite crease the corners of his eyes.

"But then, I suppose that's why you're all here. To stop the creatures like that. To make sure people like me will always get their opportunity to enjoy the things like this that mean so much to us."

"My names Lucas Carr. My friends call me Snapper. I'm here to induct you into this replacement Justice League." Snapper steps towards the table, waving towards the center with a flick of his wrist. The lights around the room dim, while a 3d hologram of the JL monogram springs into life above it's surface. He noticeably doesn't take a seat, and while waving the rest of the group closer in he doesn't offer them one either.

"So you might all know me from that book I wrote, about my early days with the League." The book in question was a tell-all memoir released several months ago to commemorate the Leagues fifth anniversary. It detailed Snapper's early adventures with the League, when he had functioned as an honorary eighth member to the group. A snappy writing style, witty dialogue, and deep respect for the League itself helped rocket the book to the position of number one bestseller across the globe. "If not, then it doesn't matter. We've got plenty of time to get to know each other, this next while. All you need to know right now is that because of my time with the League proper, I was trusted with the 'Legacy' protocols."

"Legacy was the League's safeguard, their last defense, that weapon in the arsenal that they hoped never to have to use. See, Legacy is a contingency they put in place in case of their own disappearance. They all knew that they had powerful enemies, and that there might come a day that they failed to overcome the odds. If that ever became the case they had to know that humanity was being left in good hands. To that end the Big Seven all sat down and put together a list of names. It took them two whole days to finish that list, because only the best and the brightest made the cut, those heroes that the Justice League felt they could trust with the fate of the planet."

"Well I guess congratulations are in order, because you all made the cut."

Snapper gives the group a moment for all that to sink in before pressing on.

"Now I know some of you might have been up here before, but for the sake of those you haven't I'm gonna take you all on the grand tour before getting down to business. It's not just the League that's gone missing lately. The last two weeks has seen over two dozen super-humans, both heroes and villains alike, going AWOL, and I want to get to the bottom of it. Heck, Steel was supposed to be here today, and he hasn't even called in, which isn't like--"

Snapper is cut off by the blaring of klaxons sounding from concealed points around the room, while the dimmed lights taking on an ominous red tint to accompany the cacophony.

_{"Oh crap. . ."}, Snapper muttered under his breath, eyes widening in surprise. The alarm obviously wasn't planned. _{"Ok, here we go, you can do this Snapper."} He began waving at the table again, but this time nothing happened. With a curse he tried again, then again, and again. Each time nothing happened, with Snapper becoming more and more anxious upon each failure, his repeated swearing growing louder and louder, his hands whipping wildly until finally, either by design or, more likely, by accident, he managed to silence the alarms, opening up two more 3D screens.

"Oh damn, when it rains it pours. Seems we have two situations. One in Tokyo, the other in Metropolis." Snapper pointed at the first screen, a visual rendition of Tokyo's famous Shibuya Crossing. At that moment in Tokyo it was still daylight, so the many artificial lights, billboards and viewing screens weren't having the same effect that they usually did, but it was still a sight to see. Or at least it would have been, if it didn't look like a war-zone. People were running screaming, pushing and barging each other, no heed given to one-another's safety, all in an effort to get away from something, but what that something was the group of heroes couldn't be sure.

On the second screen an image of Stryker's Island Penitentiary jumped alive. The image wasn't as clear nor as close as those of Tokyo, image scramblers kept active on the Styrker grounds at all times as a security measure against criminals who may have access to satellites ever getting too close a look at the institute. Still, chaotic movement can just be made out, tiny figures moving around in what looked like an actual battle this time.

"Ok, so from what I can tell here one of Tokyo's busiest thoroughfares has been attacked, but by who or by what I can't tell. Reports are sketchy at best, though some early reports seem to point at a large humanoid creature carrying an axe and a horde of 'zombies'. Not my words, by the way. Meanwhile in Metropolis there's been a breakout attempt at Strykers. . . Or, scratch that, a break in attempt! Sounds strange, but that's what I'm getting. Prison guards are trying to hold back the intruders, while evacuating any and all non-essential personnel, but the prisoners inside are seeing this as their chance at freedom, and began to rattle their cages. Pressed hard already, the prison staff wasn't able to hold on both fronts. Thankfully it's only the general population and lower security prisoners that got out, but it's only a matter of time before a heavy hitter like Metallo or Parasite get's loose, then we're all in trouble."

"You'll need to split into two teams, one to Tokyo and the other to Metropolis. I ain't you're boss, so I'm not going to tell you what to do here. You're all better qualified for that than I am. Decide who's going where, then hurry up and get to the teleporters! I'll monitor the situation from here, and keep both teams appraised of the other's situations. If you need to contact me, or each other, you all have you're in-ear communicators I gave you when you arrived here."

Snapper returned his attentions to the 3d screens, waving absently towards the exit.

"Well, go on guys. Go be the Justice League!"

_{"If you can. . . "}

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Tokyo, Shibuya Crossing

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The team dispatched to Tokyo were teleported directly into the center crossing of the square.



Screams rent the air as panicked civilians stampeded in thick herds, all in different directions, down whichever street they thought would give the most safety, charging into each other in a chaotic jumble, people being trampled underfoot. In this state they where as much danger to one another as whatever it is that's put such fear into them.

Over the heads of the crowd a seven foot tall, blue skinned humanoid could be glimpsed.



Built like a linebacker, while dressed like a viking raider, he wore a black, horned helm which left only his burning red eyes showing, while a pink, fleshy, five pronged star adorned his darkened breast plate. In one hand he carried a grossly oversized battle-axe, as big as the beast himself with a wickedly sharp edge, in the other hand he held a fist sized object that looks similar to the star he wore upon his chest.

As the heroes watched a civilian near the back of the escaping mob, grey haired and with a substantial gut, stumbled and fell. The axe-wielder was on the civilian in a heartbeat, the big creature's speed astounding to behold. The fallen civilian screamed in terror, but was cut off sharply as the axe-wielder clamped the hand holding the starfish over the grey-hairs face. In a moment the star had wraped it's prongs around the old man's face. With a roar of triumph the helmed beast beat his mighty chest, and at each thump another stafish, like the one he placed upon the civilians face, birthed itself from the larger star upon his breast. The beast picked one of these smaller starfish up before continuing on after further victims.

Behind the creature the old man shot back to his feet, his movements quick and smooth, oddly mechanical and wholly unnerving. The star was still latched upon his face, and instead of trying to rip it off the grey-hair bent down to pick up another of the stars that the axe-wielder had left upon the ground. With that in hand the old man rushed the crowd of panicked civilians he had once been a part of, and began to attempt to force this new starfish upon a crying child's face. In the distance, down the street that the axewielder had come, hundreds more people with similar starfish clamped across their faces could be spotted, rushing after those people still without stars.

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Strykers Island, Metropolis

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The team sent to Strykers materialized in a similarly chaotic environment. They arrived in the middle of the sandy exercise yard, surrounded on all sides by a running melee between guards and the inmates from the general population. The guards, though better armed with stun batons, shields, tasers and all manner of riot suppression gear, were outnumbered ten to one. It's only upon closer inspection did the team of heroes realize that half of the assailants throwing themselves at the guards weren't inmates, and seemed to be civilians with starfish fixed to their faces, similar to those plaguing Tokyo.

Mixed in with the guards is several of the lower profile villains from Superman's rogues gallery. Lower profile, maybe but still veteran super-villains none the less. To the far end of the yard, ignoring the battle raging around him and attempting to clamber over the walls to freedom, was the metal man, Shrapnel.



Elsewhere the mercenary Robert DuBois, better known as Bloodsport, had managed to get a hold of a riot shotgun and was using it to deadly effect.



In the air above a figure in a red and white outfit soared. A golden aura of shimmering energy surrounded him, and the insignia of a burning comet adorned his chest, giving away his identity as Captain Comet, the man born ten thousand years before his time.. lucky too as his face is covered by a purple-pink starfish.



Comet paid no attention to the chaos below him though, instead fixating upon the main body of the prison, the maximum security wing. With a gesture the closest wall of the wing crumbled under the immense power of Comet's telekinesis, bricks and mortar coming apart like wet paper.

As the dust from the collapse began to clear another figure floated slowly into the sky. He wore the standard issue orange jumpsuit for a prison inmate, though his shock of purple hair gave away his identity as ably as a name tag would.



Manchester Black stretched his arms extravagantly, groaning in pleasure.

"Must be getting off for good behavior." He snarks, a thick Mancunian accent steamrolling over the sentence. The telekinetic glanced down at the battle raging on the ground, a grin cracking across his features.

"Well, well, well. And here I was thinking Christmas was in December. Time to show ol'Supe--", The purple haired criminal is cut off mid-sentance as Captain Comet clamped a strong hand across Manchester's mouth. The Brit mumbled in protest, while the red garbed 'hero' used his free hand to try and force a starfish over Manchester's face. The Brit only just managed to stop his assailant, bending his telekinetic powers to hold Comet's hand in place. But Comet has telekinetic powers of his own, and in the intervening titanic struggle he slowly began to force the starfish closer and closer to Black's face. . .

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Tokyo, Shibuya Crossing

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"I haven't seen this many stars since I was in the fourth grade."

Like a cat following a laser's point, Sea Devil was only as far behind Nightwing as his own reflexes required that he be. Being brand new to the Justice League it stood to reason that he should observe a seasoned pro at work. But he was determined not to simply become a copycat or a sidekick.

When the electric shurikens took flight, the newcomer took note of the electrical discharge. Something entirely unavailable to himself at the moment, unless he were to steal a car battery. Instead, he loosened the reel to his grapnel and, with a flick of the wrist, snapped the line, fating it to plant its tip in the face of the loosened alien parasites.

Momentarily out of the reach of the horde, he kept picking them off with his grapnel before Nightwing moved on to the big show. The hulking, presumably alien, menace. So he leant a hand. After a thunderous snap and a moment's time, his line had wrapped around the gigantic beasts foot. With all of his might, he heaved and put a tremendous burden on his biceps in an attempt to take the star-clad invader off of his feet.

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"Not sure who the big guy, but the ugly purple chest plate? That guy is Starro, alien parasite that had the League under his control back when I was still Robin. He doesn't care much for electricity so don't be afraid to put a shock to his system."

“Man, you must be crazy if you think that pun gets funnier every time you say it!”

Static smirked as he spun above the streets of Tokyo, his hands already glistening with electrical energy as it seemed Nightwing had already made his obligatory “Static Shock” joke of the day. Static liked a good joke, but every time he teamed up with Nightwing it always seemed to be going right into clown town— which given some of the alternatives with a complete lack of humor in the first place was kind of refreshing. Static grew up as a nerd trapped in the hood with a penchant for humor to release tension but Nightwing took it to a whole new level.

Static’s brows narrowed as he looked upon the crowd below as he flew around above them on a metallic cylinder he had charged with electromagnetic energy to be his “flying disc” as he had done since he started doing the whole superhero thing. With a smirk he threw out his right arm and shot a small ball of energy at a small clearing in the crowd on the street— upon contact the ball dissipating into a field of non-lethal electrical energy.

“Haha! Don’t enter the club if you can’t handle the dancefloor!”

Static turned his head as he heard Nightwing shout.

"Hey ugly! Lets dance!"

“Oh c'mon man, don't be so harsh! I'm sure he works very hard at looking like a Game of Thrones extra!”

“This had better be worth it. I am burning through a lot of vacation time,” the man with no face grumbled, adjusting his dark necktie. With his bright orange shirt and cobalt blue suit and coat, he was immediately noticeable. But the fact that he had blank skin instead of a face did not make him the least bit approachable.

Through Carr's brief speech, he had carefully looked over the others who had been invited to the Watchtower, his eyes invisible behind his mask. Some he knew personally, others bu reputation, some he had never heard of before. Maybe they would be able to fill the massive shoes the missing heroes had left. Or maybe they would crash and fail. It'd be wise to plan for either option.

The klaxons snapped Vic Sage out of his own thoughts, and his brow knitted at the alerts. Prison riot in Metropolis, zombies in Tokyo. Vic had had his fill of zombies for a while, not to mention he saw several competent heroes immediately dive through the portal to Tokyo. Metropolis it was, then- they'd need a hand there.

“The best way to get a stone from the ocean is to dive right in,” he commented as he leaped through the portal to Strykers Island.

The exercise yard had turned into a battleground. Vic took a moment to look around and understand the situation before jumping in- the works of Sun Tzu had been pounded into his head. Specifically, “the general who wins the battle makes many calculations in his temple before the battle is fought. The general who loses makes but few calculations beforehand.”

He could only observe for so long, though- the guards were holding their own but were heavily outnumbered by the enthralled inmates. Not to mention the heavyweights were starting to make their moves. After a moment of calculation The Question came to a decision- not an easy one, but a necessary one.

The guards would have to take their chances with the garden-variety inmates. Even under the thrall of Starro, they had no more strength or fighting skill than an average criminal. Rather, The Question's skills would logically be better applied against one of the bona fide supervillains. But which one?

The Question looked around to see Shrapnel clambering up the wall. “I'm not drunk enough to fight him.”

He looked up to see Captain Comet and Manchester Black engaged in telekinetic battle. “Nope.”

Then, finally, his eyes settled on Bloodsport unloading a riot gun at the guards. Dangerous, too dangerous for a regular CO, but still just ordinary flesh and blood. The Question took off at a run towards Bloodsport, his gloved hands already hurling smoke pellets in front of the man.

A thick, swirling cloud of yellowish smoke bloomed in front of Bloodsport, hopefully obscuring the mercenary's view of his intended targets. Long enough for The Question to leap into the air and smash the heel of his foot against Bloodsport's shotgun. He didn't even look to see if he had disarmed the other man as he landed gracefully and assumed a fighting stance. He was calm, prepared for battle, his mind already emptying. As Munenori said, “once a fight has started, if you get involved in thinking about what to do, you will be cut down by your opponent with the very next blow.”

“You and me, Bloodsport,” The Question said, thick yellowish mist swirling around him. “Let's do this.”

Stryker's Island, Metropolis

Roy Harper had spent the last two weeks setting up a sting operation in Metropolis. He'd been working with the police to locate and infiltrate a human trafficking ring that had popped up in Superman's absence. Everything was going off without a hitch. In fact, it all seemed to be going a little too well. Roy was scheduled to meet with potential buyers in a couple of minutes on the docks. But of course, Red Arrow was headed in the exact opposite direction. His police scanner had warned of a prison break on Stryker's island, as well as the presence of starfish-faced 'zombies' both there and in Tokyo. It looked like Starro, an old enemy of the Titans, had returned to earth to exact its revenge. Perfect. Roy had been so close to taking those guys down and the sky starts to fall. So Speedy did what he does best: he took up his gear and costume and commandeered a police patrol boat and sailed across the bay to the extensive island prison. Roy used his grappling arrows to rather easily scale the prison's unguarded walls and traversed across the roofs of various facilities before reaching the eye of the hurricane.

The compound's main courtyard was swarming with prisoners, guards and heroes alike. The orange greatly outnumbered the blue in this situation, which meant trouble for Roy. He decided to stay on his perch for a minute or two, observing the battlefield below. As much as he wanted to run half-cocked into the fray and start shooting anything that moved, the situation called for planning and tact. Red Arrow pulled out a miniture set of binoculars from his handy dandy utility belt and placed them against his masked eyes.

He spotted a number of recognizable figures in the melee. The Question was locked in a duel with...was that Bloodsport? Roy could barely recall the D-list villain's name. Whatever the case, Guy-With-Shotgun wouldn't be a problem for Hub City's best and brightest, so Harper turned his eye to the rest of the fight.

The Red Archer also saw a villain by the name of Shrapnel trying to scale the prison walls. Now that guy was trouble. Roy could rather vividly recall that the weakest Leaguer to ever beat the Metal Man was Wonder Woman. He didn't have arrows big enough to hurt that guy.

The most interesting fight Harper saw, however, was the duel between Manchester Black and Captain Comet. Great. Comet was infected by one of Starro's parasites and was in the process of assimilating one of Stryker's most dangerous inmates. That wasn't going to happen. Not if Red Arrow had anything to say about it.

Roy raced across the building, jumping between light poles and flag poles and whatever other kind of pole he had to dance over to reach his objective. He needed to get within a hundred and fifty meters for one of his electric arrows to hit its mark. Lucky for the bowman that the alien planet conqueror was afraid of a little shocky shocky action. Harper clambered up to the highest point he could find, a guard tower, and took aim. The arrow was made of a special carbon alloy to allow for the heavier load attached to the front. The tiny cylinder contained a battery potent enough to kill an elephant and tickle Martian Manhunter. Hopefully Captain Comet is as strong as people say he is. Because otherwise, this might do more harm than good. Roy glanced down the sights of the compound bow and confirmed that his aim was true before releasing the specialized payload. The arrow cut through the air and...

Was promptly knocked off course by the invisible telekinetic tug of war.

"Damn." Red Arrow strung up a second electrical arrow and changed his aim to compensate. If he'd done his math correctly and physics didn't turn everything upside down as it usually did, Roy should be able to use to two psychics' personal gravity well to his advantage. Roy took an extra minute line up the shot before firing away. The second arrow soared. For the untrained eye, it looked like Harper had totally missed his target. However, the arrow rotated around the two battling superhumans twice before coming in right between their faces. "Come on, come on, come on..."

Strykers Island, Metropolis ||| The Imp

This was not a welcomed intervention nor a opportunistic variable for the 'test' that the infamous prankster was in the area for. A displeased frown graced the moody looking hatter, the prison populace would have been the perfect lab rats- test subjects for the new 'spiders' she had been working on. Mechanical spiders, they were no larger than a billiard table ball when curled up up but expanded they were roughly the size of a dinner plate. In theory, they were suppose to slip in and attach themselves to 'hosts' of a sort. Injecting the most likely unwilling participant with whatever the spiders contained. Some were to test this out while others would curl up in some recluse spot and become dormant. Filled with a tranquilizing fluid, they were a fail safe for if their creator ever found herself inside the bleak and hopeless system.

Above the sleek black top hat, the umbrella copter's whizzing and droning brought the Imp out of the thought train of sullen disappointment. Her long coat whipping about the sleek figure and one boot hanging free of the absurdly light contraption, the Imp leaned down urging the copter to do the same as red demonic eyes studied the situation. One hand settled inside of the coat, while a gloved hand marked 'Despair' was hooked about the umbrella's overly long rod to keep the key piece of the outfit from flying off. While she had lost it several times, the hat was something Impness would never willingly do without. It was dear to her as her experiments thought not more so. As prisoners rioted against guards and the villains of superheros rose up, Imp's frown only grew. It was troubling to see this and even more so considering the new, and badly done, "starfish face" trend. Almost as bad, though not worse than the duck face crap that had passed through a bit before.

Pulling a pair of spectacles from the coat she slid them onto the beak of a nose, peering down and seeing the fight in a better view. One rather large and metal mass man was trying to scale a wall while another was battling with a faceless wonder. Pausing to take that in, she snorted in a unlady-like fashion. In a gun verse none, the gun would always win save if this man had some above human power of brains. If he had brains... A smirk turned the concerned face into the devil's own image. Casting out a arm after stowing the spectacles again she tossed the 'spiders' into the fray. It would help for them to do their job and put down who and what they could. But alas it was only twenty, she neither had the time nor had wanted to draw too much attention. Still, with all the action it would be amusing and something to watch.

But she didn't get time to examine further as a red blur shot across the prison towards the duo already engaged. Lowering the umbrella still lower, she watched as one arrow was driven off course and another was sent to completely miss. "Havin' a wee bit of bother there, Robin Hood? You missed twice gone now." She snickered as she sunk lower behind the man. "An' don't go minding the Imp, just a friendly visiting neighbor. Of a sort."

A wicked grin and cackling she released the umbrella the spinning blades slowing to a stop and folding down to show it's naked form. Whirling, she caught a inmate about the neck with the device and swept him off his feet using his own momentum. " 'ello there love, sad to say but you just went from a useful, to something rather rude. Interrupting my experiment, now I'll have to get involved. Shame really." She apologized to the man. The glove 'Grim' dipped into the coat to pull out two long and nasty looking syringes and stabbed the man in the neck and twisting about to nail a passerby in the back of the knee. Powerful sedatives, they would calm and leave the injected in a stumbling haze of pure bliss.

"Where is the loud, 'hear me, I am God' thing's room...! Need some lovely music." Her voice cackled as she rubbed her hands together in a all too happy way, needles appearing between her fingers. "I had plans! Glorious plans!" Laying about with her umbrella like it was a club, the needles hitting pressure points and eyes more often than not as Imp wove her way through the crowd of prisoners. "You lot ruined my planned experiment! My knowledge to be gained!" Giving a ghoulish howl of cackling laughter, she started chanting a half crazed tone the lyrics to 'Happy Unbirthday'.

When you're 21, you're just getting into the swing of being an adult. You hopefully have a job, means of providing for yourself, and some sort of hang on life. You might have a few friends, a girlfriend, if you're so inclined, maybe two. Dreaming away to a distant future where you have enough money to go on that vacation, to spend all day sitting in your boxers playing video games and eating chips. But instead, you're slaving away at a job. That's the way it is for most. The ginger with the blue eyes sitting in the board meeting on top of the tallest building in the Metropolis Skyline was something of an exception. He was wearing a long sleeved T-shirt, black with the Lexcorp logo, it was the same shirt they gave to anyone being tested on in their labs. He also donned khakis worth a thousand dollars and shoes worth twice that, a Rolex on his wrist and the glasses he had built himself, a prototype of the Augmented Reality glasses they were planning on releasing next year - the Veritas Vision would make the world forget about the flop that was the Google Glass.

The meeting was coming to a close, the young man's father, the man who owned his building wasn't attending, he was downstairs, in the lab, experimenting with something. "Mr.Luthor" A voice spoke, patting the young man on the shoulder, he turned around, seeing the raven haired secretary, and he smiled. "Yes, Norma?" He asked, Norma smirked, her wrinkles showed. "There's the uh-huh situation."

Julian Luthor scoffed. "Oh shoot, right, the League." He smiled sheepisly. "Will you gentlemen forgive me? I have other business to attend to." Julian said, as he left the table, heading towards the Elevator in the biggest office, only accesible by himself and one other person - his father.

Lex was busy, Julian was going down the elevator, tapping the side of his glasses, news were popping up in front of his eyes. "Mercy, please contact the Watchtower, I'll be a little late." Julian mentioned, as Mercy, once the name of the Bodyguard, driver and upon a time lover of his father, was the artificial intelligence they used to keep track of their schedule - the Super Genius Billionaire equivalent of Siri.

"A Break In at Stryker, millions of dollars in property damage already, prognosis will be in the billions within the hour. The League has been dispatched to handle the attack. A similar attack is happening in Tokyo, too. An alien parasite capable of taking over the thoughts of a host body seems to be the cause of the attacks. Do you want me to access Mr.Luthor's 33.1 Files on this alien's last visit on earth, over a decade ago?"

"Please bring the files up, Mercy."

"Are you gonna see him, Julian?" The A.I Asked, showing the young man the files as the elevator came to a stop, revealing his workshop. "Not today. Lex is busy." Man said, reading the information displaying on his screen. "Starro, super-bad evil alien. Came to earth to take over all our heroes. Lex thought of ways to weaponize it and make it work for him - of course he would. He managed to capture a few of it's vessels and experimented on it. Nothing conclusive, doesn't like extreme temperatures, electricity's it's biggest weakness."

"Nothing I can't handle."

Julian approached the glass case where what was probably the most expensive weapon in the world stood proudly on display. The Ebony and ivory metals, mixed with the red and the cobalt blue, finishing in the symbol that was known through-out the universe. The colors changed, Blue and Gold - Julian's favorites.

He never could figure out why he preferred them over his father's favoritism for Green and Purple. He removed the glasses and approached the glass case, the case opened for him, the suit being pushed forward, and opening up, sealing around the young man tightly, without any effort from the inventor.

"Solar Absorbation is at maximum efficiency. Battery at Full Capacity. Weapons are fully charged. Suit is fully operational and combat ready." Mercy announced the Julian, as he put on the Neuro-Gear, that synched his brain with the suit. Six orbs started flying around Julian, his Links as he levitated off of the podium the Case stood on, flying out of the front entrance in the streak of Red the people of Metropolis had all gotten used to.

---

Julian emerged, at the same time The Question slung himself at the guy with the shotgun - Julian had no clue who he was, but Mercy assured him that he was of no immediate threat - the faceless detective could surely handle him.

And the Archer - former Titan - would distract the two telekinetics long enough for Julian to deal with the Tin Man. He charged at him, appearing next to Shrapnel, delivering a swift-super-powered kick to the metal man's face. Shrapnel flinched, but he was not sent flying.

That is, till he was introduced to the pulse cannon from Julian's left palm, sending the superhuman into the dirt, where he was buried several feet down, only to emerge a second later - no damage done, only pissed off.

"Come on then, Rust Bucket!" Julian taunted - he really did need to work on his Superhero Quips.

"Mercy, please shoot Young Kent a line. I could use more muscle here." Julian spoke to the computer, whom obliged, sending Jon a S.O.S Text Message, in case the Half Breed wasn't already hurrying over here as quickly as he could.

Tokyo | A night ago...

"Is it really so bad that they're gone? Are we really safer with them? Floating up there in their ivory tower, looking down on us mortals. How are we supposed to say 'no' to a god?"

"But they're good guys, we can trust them."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Besides, I don't like the idea of being under someone's thumb. Even if its the Justice League" as she said so, Eve took another shot of sake. She tended to get chatty when she's tipsy, and tonight her victim was a local girl named Aiko whom she met while "vacationing" in Japan. They really hit it off and Aiko treated her to dinner at a little hole-in-the-wall sushi bar. The restaurant was small, but packed and lively. The walls were decorated with photos and other memories of people who have come and gone.

Starling had a look of disgust on her face when their next dish came out. "I know you like your fish raw, but how do we eat this?"

"Umm, excuse me we didn't order this" Aiko told the waitress, whom looked completely out of it. The entire restaurant was in more of a ruckus than usual. When Eve peered around the room it appeared everyone received the same wrong order, a plate with a really really fresh purple starfish thing. Before she could react the starfish in front of her sprang up and everything went black.

Shibuya Crossing, Tokyo | Now

She was drowned in blackness. Was it a dream? No, she remembered her dreams, and this wasn't a usual one. She could see lights and shapes, but it was blurry. She could hear sounds, but it was muffled like she was underwater. In an ocean of blackness. But then a sudden abrupt shock to her system shook her out of it, the starfish on her face falling to the ground and shriveling up. Starling was dazed but the adrenaline kicked in fast, shaking her to her senses. She felt like she'd just been electrocuted.

All around was a mass of people. It was like a riot but without the anger or passion. No it wasn't a riot, it was a horde. Starling equipped herself with a Walther PPK she pulled from her ankle. The sights were trained on the closest aggressor until she realized the horde was wearing civilian clothes. They were just regular people like her who got starfished.

Starling pistol whipped the closest starfished civilian, knocking him out cold. Struggling to navigate the crowd, she tried to be as nonlethal as possible with the horde of mind controlled people. "Aiko! Aiko where are you?! Shit, where's the Justice League when you need them?" As she said so Static Shock flew overhead on his frisbee towards a Viking guy with an extra large starfish on him. So that's the guy in charge? I dunno if starfish have heads but lets see what happens when we cut if off.

---

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---

Big Harry Stevens and Matty Dallas were bullies, there was no doubt about it. They’d stolen Riley’s bike again. He’d been riding in Centennial Park, as he always did, just minding his own business when they jumped him, pushing him off as if he was nothing but a paperweight. He didn’t know why they picked on him. His Mom said that it was probably because there was something wrong with their home life, maybe an abusive relative, and so they resorted to bullying kids to make themselves feel better, but Riley knew the truth. They picked on him because he was small, and being small made him an easy target. They always made fun of him for his size. He would never hear the end of such original nicknames as “Tiny Riley” and “Puny Rye-Rye”. Pretty early on, Riley had decided that his Mom was wrong. Big Harry Stevens and Matty Dallas weren’t poor souls from broken homes, they were just plain mean, and that was that.

They were playing games with him, he knew. Matty Dallas rode Riley’s bike just fast enough to stay ahead, and Big Harry jogged alongside him, taunting Riley as he desperately tried to get them to stop. His shoes clicked on the park’s paved pathway as he panted behind his tormentors, each of his protests, “Harry, Matty, stop!”s and “Give it back!”s waning in conviction with every step. Eventually Matty Dallas veered a sharp left, cruising down a grassy hill onto one of Centennial Park’s many fields, laughing as Big Harry made to follow him. As Riley caught up to Big Harry, however, the bully, who was rather large in size (Riley’s father had once called him a “tub of lard”, laughing co-conspiratorially with Riley as his mother shook her head in exasperation), dropped down to the ground, tucking himself into a tight ball – or as tight as he could manage, given his extra layers. Riley was running too fast to stop himself, and he tripped over the tub of lard, rolling violently down the hill, coming to a stop at Matty Dallas’ feet.

Matty Dallas was a tall, scrawny kid, with barely any meet on his bones. His face resembled that of a rat, with his two crooked front teeth jutting out among his otherwise straight gnashers, his nose long and twitchy. To most people, he would’ve looked as threatening as a housefly, but to a small kid like Riley, Matty Dallas looked like Darkseid.

Big Harry took his place next to Matty, and together they pulled Riley up to his feet, their grip too tight, nails digging into his flesh.

“This’s been a long time comin’, Rye-Rye,” said Big Harry, sneering in delight.

“Yeah, Riley,” agreed Matty Dallas, raising his fists.

Big Harry grabbed hold of Riley, holding his arms behind his back, keeping him in place. Riley closed his eyes as he struggled against Big Harry. He’d always known that this day might come, that Big Harry and Matty “Rat” Dallas might move on from stealing his bike and making fun of his height to some more painful torments, and now that that time had come he was hoping against all hope that someone might help him, that someone would see he was in trouble and step in before things got rough, but the park was eerily empty this morning and no one was around to help –

– and then there was a powerful gust of wind, and Riley felt Big Harry’s grip loosen, if only slightly. When Matty’s punch never came, Riley dared to open his eyes, his mouth forming a large ‘O’ at what he saw.

Everyone said that he’d disappeared, just like the rest of the Justice League, that he’d vanished and that he hadn’t been seen for over a month, but there he was, standing in front of Riley and Matty Dallas and Big Harry Stevens with his red cape flowing behind him, the big ‘S’ shield gleaming in the sunlight. He smiled at Riley, winking, and right then Riley knew that everything was going to alright. Superman had his back.

“Come on, Harry, let Riley go,” said Superman, his eyes stern, carrying a message along the lines of “I know you’re better than this.”

Riley relaxed as Harry released his arms, breathing a sigh of relief.

Matty, however, still had his fists raised, although perhaps less committedly than before. Superman raised his eyebrows at him. “Fists down, Matt. There’s no need for any violence.” Matty lowered his hands, uncurling them.

Riley’s tormentors were as awestruck as he was. They stared up at Superman with wonder in their eyes, their mouths agape in stupid smiles. They may have been getting reprimanded, but they were being reprimanded by Superman, and if that wasn’t awesome, Riley didn’t know what was. A part of him was even feeling a little bitter. If Batman was the one reproaching them, Matty and Big Harry might actually have received at least a little punishment.

“Now Harry, Matt. Why don’t you two apologise to Riley?”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry…” they mumbled, too distracted by who was no doubt their idol to pay Riley any mind.

“It’s okay,” said Riley, beaming at Superman. The Man of Steel smiled back.

“Bullying won’t get you anywhere, boys,” he said, “Believe me. Putting someone else down might make you feel better, but eventually, that feeling wears off, and all you’re left with is guilt. You’re better off doing something for someone else. Help an elderly lady across the street. Share your lunch with someone who’s sad. Smile at a stranger. It’s little things like that that make a difference. Okay?”

Big Harry and Matty Dallas nodded their heads fervently.

“Okay. You should get going, now. I want to speak to Riley alone. Be good.”

Entranced, they began to walk away, but not before Matty managed a “Yessir.” Before long, Big Harry Stevens and Matty Dallas disappeared from sight.

“You okay, Riley?” asked Superman, grabbing Riley’s bike, which had been left lying on the grass by Matty. He wheeled it back to Riley, handing it to him and patting him on the back.

“Yes,” said Riley, “Thank you, Superman.”

For some reason, that caused Superman to wince. Riley thought he was used to getting thank yous – in fact, Riley himself was a fan of them. It always felt nice to be validated for the good things you’ve done.

“I, uh… I’m not Superman,” said Superman, which really kind of confused Riley, because there he was in his outfit and cape, with the chiselled jawline his Mom was always fawning over, and yet he was saying that he’s not himself. “I’m… family of his.”

“Oh,” said Riley. “Well, you’re Superman to me.”

Lowering his bike’s stand, he sat down on the grass, crossing his legs. Not Superman seemed lost for words. Riley could almost see the gears in his head, working hard to process his compliment. But Riley had meant it. To him, Not Superman really was Superman. And anyway, he looked just like him. It was as if he was his son, or something.

Eventually, Not Superman joined him on the grass, arms curled around his knees. His cape wrapped around him like a comfortable red blanket. “You know, I miss him.”

“Who?” asked Riley.

“Superman. He’s been gone for over a month, and I don’t know where he is or what’s happened to him. I’m not any closer to finding out. And I miss him.”

At that moment, he looked vulnerable, Riley noticed. His eyes were sad and distant, and he was bringing his knees closer to his chest, as if he was trying to close himself off from the world. It reminded Riley of how his Dad had been after Nana died. It had hurt Riley to see him that sad, just like it was hurting him to see Not Superman like that now.

“Well… I’m sure that wherever he is… he misses you, too.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Not Superman, smiling sadly. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to fill in his shoes. What if he’s gone forever? I’m not… I’m not ready to be the next Superman.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Riley. I shouldn’t be dumping all of this on you.”

“No, it’s okay,” said Riley. “I know how you feel. Mom keeps saying that if something ever happens to her and Dad, I’m going to have to become the man of the house. I have three little sisters. They’re so annoying. I don’t know if I’m ready to handle that.”

Not Superman chuckled. “Moms are the worst, am I right?”

“You’re telling me,” agreed Riley, and they laughed. “Hey, how’d you know my and Big Harry’s and Matty Dallas’ names?” he asked eventually, once Not Superman had wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

Not Superman pointed to his ears. “Super-hearing. I heard your shouting.”

“Oh. Cool.”

And they sat there for what felt like hours, and they talked. And for the first time in his life, Riley felt like he’d found a friend.

---

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---

Jonathan Kent had missed the League meeting. A part of himself wanted to blame it on his talk with Riley – What a great kid, he thought as he flew towards Stryker’s Island – but if he was being completely honest, the only person to blame was himself. His father was the one to have put him on the list, he knew, despite his inexperience with superheroism. Besides the occasional cat in a tree or burning building, Jon had never really used his powers, barring all the times he’d helped Gran around the farm. There was the time with Bizarro, when his powers had first “activated” (a lucky coincidence, his dad told him later, as his body had likely absorbed just enough solar radiation at that moment) but that was nearly two decades ago, when he was only five. Somehow, he doubted that would count. Compared to Kieran, he was just another civilian – a civilian who happened to have the powers of a Kryptonian, but a civilian no less – so if his adopted brother was invited to the League, he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. What he didn’t understand, however, was why his father seemed so convinced that he should be, too. It just didn’t make any sense.

Mom and Dad had always told him that one day, the time would come for him to take on the mantle of Superman, to become the Man of Steel. Jon knew that. He had the blood of the world’s greatest hero running through his veins, and by default, that made him a hero to be, too. It’s why Jon had donned this outfit in the first place, a modernised version of his father’s suit, ready-made for him in the Fortress of Solitude, to no one’s, least of all his, surprise. His family had always expected him to follow in his Dad’s footsteps, and with him gone… No, just missing, Jon reminded himself… Jon owed it to them and to himself to at least try and do his part for the world. But donning the big ‘S’ was taking its toll on him, and he was beginning to wonder more and more on whether he should be allowed to wear it.

As Stryker’s came into sight, Jon’s vision took in nearly every detail. Guards and heroes alike fought both prisoners and civilians, most of their assailants controlled by purple, starfish-like creatures, what Jon immediately recognised as Starro. He may not have been a Titan, and although he’d only just recently entered the world of capes and tights, Jon had always had an interest in that field, and as such recognised the alien as the same one that both the Titans and the League had fought on previous occasions. Electricity was its main weakness, but it was also vulnerable to the cold, something which Jon could generate without issue.

The Question was fighting Robert DuBois, alias Bloodsport… Jon was sure that the seasoned vigilante had the situation under control, but to fight a gun-toting mercenary with nothing but your wits, some smoke pellets and martial arts was risky, to say the least. Jon would intervene if the situation called for it, but for now, he’d let Question do his thing.

Above the prison, a Starro-controlled Captain Comet was engaged in a telekinetic battle with none other than Manchester Black, an old enemy of Jon’s father’s. He could see the telekinetic energy warping around them, one of the perks of Kryptonian vision – and an arrow smoothly sailed those energies, on a direct course to the star on Comet’s face. Jon looked down to see Red Arrow keenly watching the conflict, backed up by an eccentric-looking woman, appearing as if she’d sprung out of some twisted version of Lewis Carroll’s works, who he had never heard of or seen before. He nearly intervened when he saw her plunge two syringes into a prisoner’s neck, thinking she was killing the man – but on listening to the prisoner’s heartbeat and breathing, he realised that she’d injected him with some sort of sedative, tiring him while inducing a state of unnatural happiness.

Comforted knowing that no one was dying – yet – Jon continued to sweep the prison when he caught sight of something that made his blood boil. Julian Luthor, the son of Lex Luthor – wearing the insignia of the House of El. The crest of Jon’s family. Julian was someone Jon might have considered a friend, but not even friendship could prevent the anger he was feeling at this moment. Shrapnel, Julian’s opponent of choice, was honing in on the young Luthor, looking about as pissed as Jon felt. Flying towards the metal man at breakneck speed, Jon smashed Shrapnel into the ground, creating a crater in the shape of the criminal’s form. Ignoring the pain in his hands – hitting Shrapnel at such speeds had hurt – Jon turned towards Julian. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from blazing red.

“Julian,” he growled, “You’d better hope you’re not calling yourself Superman, too. No one gave you the right to wear that crest.”
Shrapnel made to get up, and Jon punched him once more, sending him back down. A dull ache numbed his hands. Taking a deep breath, he reigned in the majority of his anger. “But we’ll deal with that later. For now, we need to form a plan. We won’t accomplish anything as we are now.”

He floated into the air, once again taking in his surroundings, watching for any developments. If there was ever a time where his training with Batman, however minimal it was, would come in handy, it was now.

---

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Tokyo, Shibuya Crossing

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If all the world's a stage, it had really poor lighting.

Felicity exited the trash pit the venue called a dressing room in a huff. Having just finished her second show ever (the first being in the good ol' U.S. of A) she expected some resistance from the Tokyo residents. She was an unknown entity trying to entertain the masses. She didn't know much Japanese either, other than a few phrases. Curse her parents for not teaching her when she was younger.

She was surprised how English friendly Japan was though, most, if not all, of the people spoke English pretty well and she was able to get around easily without much help. She was met at the airport with a marvelous greeting from the venue executives, who showed their appreciation for her being there. She was excited to be met with open arms. For once, she wouldn't be just some assistant on stage there because she had a pretty face and a big rack. no, she would entertain them because she was skilled, she was good. Her illusions were real magic, after all. How many other magicians could say the same? Could Houdini? She doubted it.

So what went wrong? She really should have known something was off when she got to the venue. It wasn't as big as she pictured, but she performed in smaller. What really should have tipped her off was the seating. Instead of tables where people could order drinks or food while they enjoyed the show, it was lined up like a theater, with rows of seats. Like a game show audience, even. Still, she had a show to prepare for so she went to her dressing room. Another hint: the dressing room was as big as a broom closet. It had only one chair, and a small mirror and that was it. She noted weird stains on the floor also. She wondered if the venue wasn't doing well, and that was why, perhaps, they needed new talent to bring in the people. She didn't let this get her down!

The moment came when she went on stage, the crowd cheered, the spotlight hit her, and she gave a small bow and started. She began with a few tricks, a rabbit out of her hat (which is impressive considering how small her hat is) and the ribbon in the sleeve trick. It was then she noticed the camera. She was being taped. Funny, she didn't remember hearing about that. Perhaps it was so they could sell videos later, but still she would have expected them telling her, even giving her a cut of the proceeds.

She didn't notice when the audience put on the white ponchos and the tomato that flew across the stage and hit her in the shoulder. She stopped what she was doing and looked down. Before she could say anything, she was petered with fruits and vegetables of all shapes and sizes. She screamed and shouted for them to stop, but no one did. She quickly ran off the stage. After she left, another man came on stage and introduced the rest as the opening act for the new comedy show.

What the actual hell?

---

She walked the streets, having cleaned herself up. She was still in her costume because she didn't bring a change of clothes. She didn't think she would need it. She was shamed and angry. She had a brief moment of revenge, ruining the cameras so her performance couldn't be broadcasted, but still.

It was then that someone ran into her, "Ah, watch it!" she said, but the man just screamed and continued to run. That was weird.

She looked towards where the man ran from and she saw the scene unfold. The crowd of people running, the Viking man and what looked like...Starfish? Not to mention the colorful ensembles of some particularly interesting individuals who seemed to be confronting said Viking.

What was this? Could they be....superheroes?

Felicity wasn't blind. She knew about the Justice League. She knew they were gone, but yet these people were here, so they must be heroes, who else would dress like that, let alone charge toward the massive Viking, demon thing.

It took every nerve she had not to flee herself. The thing was terrifying to look at, but something compelled her to stay. Something compelled her to move.

Move toward the man!

Rushing through the crowd, she issued her apologies, she ran past a few people who had those weird Starfish things on them. She would worry about that in a minute, her attention needed to be on that weird Viking.

As she got near, she noted the others, issuing their respective lines at the enemy. It was just like a comic book!

"Hope you don't mind some assistance. I may not look it, but I'm sure you could use my skills. Now then, who's ugly here?" she said to her comrades, who would see a young woman dressed in a tuxedo dress, black heels, fishnets, a small hat, and her long, blonde hair flowing. A new hero perhaps? Even she didn't know...

---

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Fortress of Solitude, Population : 1, One Week Ago

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It's been about three weeks since the disappearance of Superman and the others. People have started to worry. Civilians and heroes alike. Kieran Kent was among those that worried. By day and sometimes night he was your average everyday college student. But he also had a secret. He was Seraph, the adopted son of the House of El. It wasn't like he didn't believe that the heroes left behind wouldn't be able to protect their home. No, they had faced a lot before. Some of them had even fought and saved a controlled Justice League and they did that as teenagers. They had only gotten stronger, smarter, and overall better since then.

He was worried about other things. He was mostly worried about his father. Would he die wherever they were? The man could race around the Universe if he wanted to but he wasn't here. He wasn't back home. Superman was the strongest person he knew. If he wasn't able to escape where he disappeared to then where could he be? Another dimension? A solar system with a red sun? The Phantom Zone? He had ruled out the latter earlier that morning. He used the Phantom Zone Portal, a viewing window into the zone, to check the different regions of the zone but he didn't see them. If he and the others were there then they were somewhere that he couldn't see unless he went inside. He didn't want to risk that. Not yet at least. The world still needed him out here. Plus they'd need the projector to even do that and it wasn't easy to just walk up inside here and get it.

Kieran stood in his room staring at a costume. He remembered the day his father showed it to him. It was his eighteenth birthday and at the time he was so glad that the costume didn't have underwear on the outside. His father told him that he had the suit made for him if he ever decided to switch to something a little more blue, red, and yellow. The colors of hope, he said. He lightly laughed before sighing. His dad was so cheesy sometimes. He reminded him that whenever people saw those colors they knew that they'd be safe. They had hope that Superman would save them. Kieran joked at the time that it was settled then. He'd wear the suit only when he replaced him as Superman. He didn't think that, that time would come this soon. He felt the cold yet warm touch of a tear on his cheek and lifted the phone from his pocket. "Hey. No, I haven't found anything... Yeah, I'll be home for dinner, mom. I'll see you then. I love you too."

He hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. He looked back at the suit and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Not today." Kieran then walked back through the Fortress and passed the statue of his adoptive grandparents before going into a training room where a Superman robot was waiting for him. He activated with a voice command and continued. "Engage. Level: Superman."

---

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Tokyo, Shibuya Crossing, Today

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Seraph rubbed his jaw after teleporting with the others from the Watchtower. Damn. Who would have thought that he'd still be feeling that last punch to the face from the robot a week later? He was lucky that it wasn't as strong as Superman or else he would have really been in trouble. He didn't have time to think about that now though. He had a probablem that needed to be dealt with. His first true enemy Starro had returned. No doubt after hearing that the League had disappeared. It was already starting and he knew it was going to get worse after this. It seems that the alien forgot that it was taken down by the Teen Titans all those years ago. And this time they have the advanced knowledge of its weakness.

Everyone immediately sprung into action like a well oiled machine. Some even joined the situation from the crowds going into the fight ready to take down the enemy. Starro zombies were getting taken down left and right but there were still a lot of them left and the stampede of scared civilians wasn't slowing down. Seraph immediately went to work. He didn't have electricity on his side but he had powers that could help him. He knew not to start off with his heat vision. These were civilians and he couldn't risk hurting them when the Starros would move if he wasn't fast enough. He sped through the crowd freezing every Starro he came across with his breath before slicing it off of the host civilians with his heat vision after it proved inert.

As he was going through the crowd he noticed a little girl moving around trying to get her teddy bear that she dropped. Her mother was a bit a ways forward trying to push her way back to her daughter but the stampede wasn't making it easy for her. The girl was about to get trampled by a bunch of scared adults before he ran to grab her and her bear. He didn't stop there and went to get her mother as well before taking them to the side away from the others. Her mother immediately hugged and held her daughter tight and Seraph handed the teddy to the little girl. She smiled, looked at his crest, and exclaimed, "Arigato, Superman!" Seraph, paused, clearly stunned but did nothing to correct the little girl. He gave her a smile and a nod before returning to his hero duties. He had already taken care of the remaining zombies that had found their way into the stampede. He just needed to help stop them from trampling over each other and he didn't a lot of time. The others would need his help with Viking Starro.

Seraph launched himself in the air above the crowd and made a loud whistle to call them to a stop. He didn't know more than the basics of Japanese so he hoped that they'd be able to understand his English. "Escape the area, but safely! You're going to end up hurting yourselves more than they would have hurt you if you didn't stop. Arigato."

He hoped that would have been enough, but if it wasn't... He didn't know. He just couldn't risk having them hurt themselves while he and the others tried to fight off the big bad. He didn't waste any time in joining the others in their fight. He noticed Devil Way trying to tug at Viking Starro's leg with line and decided to help him out. While Ray was pulling, Seraph flew forward to punch Viking Starro in the face in an attempt to help knock him down all the while keeping an eye on that giant axe of his.

---

Mark was excited to be a member of the Justice League. Having encountered them when he was a member of the Forever People, Mark had looked up to the league and now he was a new member of the team. He had to admit that he missed his old team and he wondered how they were doing without him, but Mark was sure that Izaya would have a replacement for him.

It didn’t take too long for two crises to happen and it was during the first team meeting. Evil certainly wasn’t going to wait for them to finish proper introductions. Mark decided to go with the team to Stryker’s Island since it seemed that there was enough heroes going to Tokyo. Once at the prison, Mark took out his Mother Box and used it to see how many life forms were in the prison so that he had a feel of how many potential enemies there were.

His attention was drawn to the telekinetic battle going on between Manchester Black and Captain Comet. Mark noticed the hero’s face being covered by a starfish like creature and his memory ignited at the sight of the creature. He asked his Mother Box to check the identity of the creature and the device gave him the answer. It was a Starro spawn and that meant they were trying to take control of metahumans.

Having heard about Manchester Black before, Mark believed that it would the best course of action to make sure that the incredibly powerful telekinetic did not become a slave to an evil alien starfish. He telepathically commanded his Mother Box to transfer his electrical powers to the device and increase its intensity with its own powers. He aimed the glowing Mother Box at Captain Comet and the device fired off a powerful blast of electric at the mind-control hero.

The blast would not be deadly, but Mark hoped that it was powerful enough to incapacitate the hero. The situation could become worse and that was something that Mark wanted prevent.

Two days ago...

Central City, 2:34 pm.

Mike Maxwell just finished another presentation at the Central City Zoo. The Zoo Tour of America presently was being filmed by some indy filmmakers looking to hit it off big with the Discovery Network or National Geographic. For Mike, it was all about animal rights and preservations. His story about fighting Gorilla Grodd further out west with Green Lantern didn't go over as well with the crowds as he'd hoped. Admittedly, 'the Beast from B'wana' wasn't as well known as some of the other heroes. His physique didn't hide the fact he wore a silly looking helmet and matching loincloth.

At the end of the presentation the filmmakers packed their gear and told the Beast they'd see him in Metropolis. Both respectable young men, Rudy and Simon. Rudy was the annoying talkative one, while Simon was more quiet and all about getting the right shot on camera. After everything was in their van, Rudy made an awkward moment even more awkward before shaking hands with Mike and getting into his van.

With the Flash no longer operating in Central City the Rogues were having the time of their lives. Crime was up nearly 40% in the last several days, and that wasn't even the worst city in the nation. Mike hates to admit it, but punching supervillains in the face is addicting. If even one of those punks came through the zoo the Beast would use his power to create a Snakehawk or something to take them down. The Rogues never really had much use for the zoo other than Grodd, and it wasn't like the Beast was the type of hero to go picking a fight with half a dozen of them at once. One or two maybe, but those creeps travel in packs. Even the Angle Man has a posse. The Flash could keep up with that many at once, the Beast could barely keep up with a car on the highway. No wonder Mike never got a call back from that United Nations guy about the Justice League International reforming in the wake of the original League's disappearance. He just wasn't cut out for real superhero'ing on the regular.

Metropolis, presently...

Mike was in the food court at the Metropolis Aquarium, also called 'the Ark. The zoo was under construction after a battle between Superman and Livewire weeks earlier before the League disappeared. Rudy and Simon had insisted they get some filming done somewhere and suggested the Ark, but the management and staff had never heard of 'the Beast' and didn't want the pair of filmmakers getting too close to certain areas for fear of contaminating habitats in the floating offshore aquarium. A television was on and Breaking News interrupted the Disney-like kids' shows.

"Reports are coming in that heroes and villains alike are trying to break into Stryker's Island for reasons unknown and it's a war zone..." the blonde reported, "The heroes trying to take the place of the Justice League need all the help they can get..."

"Simon, Rudy, I don't think this is where I need to be..." Mike said still in full Beast gear.

"Just eat your fries jungle man, me and this charming bastard will make the managers cave and let us bring in our cameras..." Rudy commented while also trying to form a plan to work on the managers.

"If I wanna be in the League I can't be running around across country filming a documentary reality show with you guys!" Mike said a bit louder as if demanding more respect out of the two younger men.

"You don't wanna make money that's fine, we can find another animal superhero to do this gig. Do you still have the Crimson Fox's number, Simon?" Rudy asked as the Beast was already getting up from his seat and walking into an octopus habitat where a woman was presently feeding the animals.

"Sorry, ma'am, but I need to borrow this guy..." the Beast said taking the creature and its DNA into a ball of yellow energy before walking into a shark habitat, "And I'm gonna need you too big guy..." he continued taking the largest shark and its DNA into a ball of green energy.

Walking out to the dock where the ferry brought the group of tourists and the filmmakers to the Ark, the Beast continued the amalgamation of the two creatures.

"Octo-Shark? Nooo... I'm calling you a Sharktopus! Let's go give those heroes at Strykers' a hand or eight!" he screamed leaping onto the creature's back and riding it east towards the island prison.



~KL~

The Red cape flashed in front of Julian, as a soft smile appeared on his face. he was here Just as Julian hoped. The Kryptonian hit the metal man hard - as hard as only his bloodline could. And the Luthor smirked. “Julian,” Jon growled at Julian, “You’d better hope you’re not calling yourself Superman, too. No one gave you the right to wear that crest.”
Shrapnel made to get up, and Jon punched him once more, sending him back down. A dull ache numbed his hands. Taking a deep breath, he reigned in the majority of his anger. “But we’ll deal with that later. For now, we need to form a plan. We won’t accomplish anything as we are now.”

"Jon." Julian said, softly, tapping the holographic panel erupting from his right arm, his mechanical arm was protected by the suit, but all of it's functionalities were still operational. "I assume you don't see the news much back at the farm." Julian began, his six spheres floating around Jon, and Shrapnel whom was now pummeled into the ground. "Move over." he commanded, and once the Kent boy was out of the way, four out of the six sphere went around Shrapnel. Forming a forcefield around him, tearing through the dirt, a cube prison, while emitting electrical currents between each other that would hit the metal man, shocking him into submission.

"I've been wearing this shield for two weeks now. And in my presence as the man of Tomorrow, property damages have gone down by 40 percent, and crime rate is rising the slowest in the whole country here in Metropolis in the wake of our beloved Justice League" Julian spoke, the holographics on his arm showed the news reports of his interventions in Metropolis, stopping bankrobberies, Toyman's escapades and even stopping rogue Lexcorp tech.

"I'm doing a good job. As good as he would." The Luthor stated, he was tense - he knew Jon wouldn't approve, nor would the other adoptive son of Kal-El, but he was right and he wasn't afraid to bruise their egos to prove it.

"But, let's continue this topic another time. We still have a whole prison to take care off."

Donna had been to the Watchtower many times before, but it never ceased to amaze her. A castle among the stars, the mightiest fortress Donna had ever seen, an eighth wonder of the world. Donna had loved to stand at Diana's side and gaze down on their beautiful blue planet, and to look out into the stars as none on Themyscira had before. But without Diana, without Kal-El's smile, without Hal Jordan's easy laughter, without Barry Allen's kind face, even without Batman's silent but steadying presence, the Watchtower felt an empty place. A shadow of its former self without the gods that had walked its halls.

Now the Watchtower was filled with those trying to preserve the League's legacy, the heirs, the second generation, the allies and comrades who had fought alongside the seven for years, as well as many that were simply inspired by their example. Donna knew most of them by name, and many more by reputation. It was good to see familiar faces, or the lack of one, in Question's case. Snapper Carr was a good friend, and Donna knew he must be worrying about the Justice League as much as she did. She decided she had to go to him and comfort him when they had a moment. Donna smiled at the sight of Nightwing and Seraph, she thought of her days in the Teen Titans. Charmed times, to be surrounded by such gallant, charming, and yes attractive men. And she had always loved Static's sense of humor. Even Mark Moonrider was a valiant comrade, they had fought side by side on many occasions against the forces of Apokolips. She had missed them all dearly.

Then the klaxons blared and they were called into action. Two violent riots in Tokyo and on Stryker's Island. Donna saw Nightwing go to Tokyo and knew the situation was well in hand. Besides she was much more familiar with Metropolis, and there would be all kinds of dangerous inmates running amok if Stryker's Island was not pacified. Donna dove into the teleporter to the Island and assessed the situation. Her combat-honed senses quickly took in the battlefield. There was a full-blown riot in progress with the inmates overrunning the guards. On closer inspection Troia saw that many of the assailants were civilians under the thrall of Starro. Troia's teeth gritted at the memory. Starro had been a formidable enemy and had come very close to overthrowing the Justice League, were it not for her team. Well it seemed it was up to them again. She saw what seemed to be Captain Comet in combat with Manchester Black and at first she welcomed the assistance of the mighty hero, but she cursed when she saw that he was enthralled and was trying to do the same to Black.

Question was in combat with Bloodsport, Troia knew that he needed no help. It seemed that Shrapnel was contained by Jon-El and Julian Luthor. It was always good to see Jon but Julian gave her more pause. She misliked Julian's appropriation of the El Crest. He had no right to it. She did not know if Shrapnel would remain contained in the electrical field but even if he wasn't, Jon and Julian were strong enough to deal with him, her sister had defeated him in combat once and she thought three heroes of their strength were overkill. Troia also saw what seemed to be a demonic costumed lunatic rampaging among the rioters. Troia did not recognize her, but she seemed to be on their side. The real threats were Manchester Black and Captain Comet. Comet was a formidable hero, one of the strongest, and it bode ill that he was under Starro's thrall. Red Arrow and Moonrider seemed to be focusing on freeing Comet or knocking him out of the fight, but Manchester needed to be contained as well. He was one of the strongest telekinetics alive, he could not be allowed to become enthralled or to escape.

Troia flew into the air at the battling telekinetics and drew her lasso, she flung the enchanted rope at Black, hoping to lasso the villain and draw him away from Comet and pull him towards her for a chokehold. She needed to separate him from Comet and knock him out of the fight before he could bring his telekinesis to bear against her. She thought a silent prayer as the lasso flew at Black.

---

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J O N - E L

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"Be that as it may," replied Jon, "Good job or not, Julian, you're not a Kent. And you sure as hell are not an El."

Mark Moonrider had arrived at Stryker's, using his Mother Box to send an electrical charge at Captain Comet, joining Red Arrow's projectile in the air. Jon didn't want to wait for the creature on the hero's face to be affected by the attacks; Comet would undoubtedly drop Manchester Black, and given their height – Jon estimated they were suspended at at least a hundred and fifty feet, Comet subconsciously lifting himself and Black in their struggle – Manchester was sure to die from the fall. Jon couldn't let that happen, and luckily, he didn't have to. A familiar face brought a smile Jon's own as she pulled Black to safety with her lasso. It had been a long time since Jon last saw Donna Troy, but he'd always been fond of her, and her presence now brought him comfort in knowing that there was now yet another set of more capable hands than his at the prison.

Taking a glance at Shrapnel, he saw that the criminal was out, at least for the time being, and decided on what he was going to do.

"Red Arrow's electrical arrow and that man's charge are going to connect with the star controlling Captain Comet at any moment now. When it does, he'll fall. I'm going to catch him. You see what you can do to help the civilians and guards under Starro's control."

At that, the projectiles hit, and Captain Comet began plummeting to the ground, unconscious.

Jon was there to catch him.

"Be that as it may," replied Jon, "Good job or not, Julian, you're not a Kent. And you sure as hell are not an El." His words felt venemous to Julian - almost spiteful, a flavor not very commonly used by the Kents. Sure, the Luthor did empathize with Jon. He understood why the Kent was annoyed at him for donning the House Of El-Insignia. "Your father made this symbol more than your family crest when he started parading it in Metropolis. He made it the symbol of hope, a symbol of Earth's sovereignty. An Icon for all of mankind to rally behind, to feel hope. You let that Planet-Busting Ego take a backseat for a minute, and you would see it too. " Julian explained, Jon went on to talk about the battle plan.

"Ay, Ay, Captain." Luthor responded sarcastically. He looked up at the sky, a glass visor came from his neurotransmiter, giving him a augmented reality screen, a Heads up Display, homing in on Donna Troy for a second. More former Sidekicks - great.

He turned his attention to the prison, the HUD giving him info on everyone inside of the prison, every face was logged inside of the. His remaining links, that weren't still holding Shrapnel floated around him, emiting electrical charges to any of the prisoners he came across - or anyone infected with Starro, powerful enough to knock them out, but not cause any serious damage. He walked deep into the prison.

Tapping his ear, he went onto the encrypted com-link channel the League used. "What's it looking at in Tokyo? News aren't telling me much. We've mostly got Stryker under control. Got a lot of non-leaguers coming in to help out. I'm inside of the prison, neutralizing any threats inside. Superman out."

The Watchtower

_{Interacting with: Everyone}

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In the halcyon days of the League proper J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, was the one who most often pulled monitor duty. Snapper didn't know why that was. Whether it was because J'onn was the member who had the fewest obligations on earth to pull him away from this lofty perch, or if it was because he enjoyed the quiet solitude of the low-orbit vigil, Snapper never asked. What he did know was the the Martian had always made it look easy. No matter the severity of the crisis J'onn was always unflappably calm, cool, an oasis of serenity in the center of whichever shitstorm happened to be assailing the earth that time.

Snapper was quickly beginning to believe that had been one of J'onn's alien powers, because he'd only been working the monitor shift for about ten minutes, and he was already starting to lose his shit.

He'd rallied initially, when the heroes arrived and looked to get everything in order. No sooner were they on their respective scenes than they'd identified the attacking hordes as the pawns of the intergalactic menace Starro and then devised a strategy to staunch the chaos. Freeing the civilians from the psychic parasites feeding on their faces was no more than a holding measure for now, but it would give the replacement League time to figure out a more permanent solution.

Or so Snapper had thought up until thirty seconds ago. That was when the deep space proximity alarm had started ringing, warning him that something was headed this way. Something big. That would be cause enough for concern at the best of times, but considering the proper League was gone and the earth was currently fending off an invasion from alien Conan the Barbarian wannabe, Snapper felt confident in saying that this wasn't the best of times. He swallowed nervously before clicking on his communicator to both teams.

"Uh, hate to interrupt guys, but I think your problems are just starting."

Shibuya Crossing, Tokyo

_{Interacting with: @Lord Wraith@Nightrunner@Gowi@Konica@FantasyChic@King Kindred}

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The towering creature's head shot up at Nightwing's taunt, staring intently at the young vigilante for a moment, before lifting it's axe above it's head and bellowing a war cry at the Prodigal Son. The former acrobat had gotten the creature's attention, which began to barrel it's way through the masses, shoving, barging or throwing panicking civilians and indoctrinated hordes aside in it's quest to reach it's target.

Devil Ray's line wrapped itself around the hulking beasts leg, though it didn't notice at first. Even when it did realize it was entangled in a steel line it hardly concerned the beast. Does the malicious child worry about the retaliatory attacks of the flies he tears the wings from? Instead he abandoned his pursuit of Nightwing to instead lean down and grab a fistful of the line, and with one massive heave yanked the aquatic hero, who still held the other end of the line, forwards. It's intentions were clear, to drag the Damp Devil within range of it's deadly axe and then to split the human in twain, but fortunately for the Gotham native it never got the chance before Seraph came flying to the rescue.

A massive Kryptonian fist smashed into the creatures obsidian helm, though the alien metals refused to give. The giant was clearly a powerhouse, as it merely stumbled back a pace before righting it's footing and surging back into the attack, swinging it's axe at Seraph in a murderously quick underarm strike.

"Uh, hate to interrupt guys, but I think your problems are just starting."

Snapper's message came over the comms seconds before a masked assailant leapt over the heads of the indoctrinated masses and threw himself at Nightwing.



His name was Mr Unknown, a well regarded vigilante in his native Japan, often referred to as the 'Batman of Tokyo'. A veritable master of martial arts, and armed with a kunai dagger in each hand, the former Boy Wonder had a fight upon his hands.

Miles overhead an object broke the earth's stratosphere, the UFO that had triggered the Watchtowers alrams. At first no more than a tiny black blip in the distant blue sky, it quickly ballooned in size to garguantuan proportions as it ate away at the miles towards Tokyo. As it got closer it's shape became more apparent. Five huge fleshy pink arms, at least twenty-five feet long from base to tip, serrated with bone-like spikes and protrusions, jutted out of a bulbous purple body. One massive eye protruded from that center mass, it's iris as red as fresh blood and criss-crossed with angry veins, staring unblinkingly towards where the heroes were battling the starfish controlled horde. The giant axe-wielder broke off it's fight with Seraph to watch this new, giant star's descent. The hulking beast threw it's massive arms up in a loose approximation of greeting.

M Y M A S T E R S T A R R O, I H A V E G A T H E R E D T H E S E N E W C H A M P I O N S. T H O U G H T H E Y A R E P A L E I M I T A T I O N S O F T H E O L D B R E E D, T H E Y W I L L S E R V E A S A F I N E V A N G U A R D. T H E C O N Q U E S T O F T H I S R O C K C A N N O W B E G I N!

The voice rang through the heroes heads, and it would take them all a moment to realize the conversation was being conducted telepathically. It seemed that Nightwing was wrong to assume that the starfish upon the axe-wielders chest was Starro, and instead this giant monster that had just descended upon earth was the League's old foe, inflated too gigantic proportions compared to how the Conqueror had been upon their last meeting.

Y O U H A V E S E R V E D W E L L, C O B I. E N S L A V E T H E M A L L, S A V E T H E K R Y P T O N I A N. I D E S I R E T O S E E A T R U E E N D P U T T O T H A T M I S R E A B L E R A C E!

With that the axe-wielder, his name now revealed as Cobi, raised his weapon in salute before pressing his attack on Seraph once more, snarling at the Kryptonian like a dog as he brought his axe around in a decapitating arc. Behind him Starro surged into action, the giant creature seemingly not content to sit upon the sidelines. Giant arms topped with vicious scythe like claws reached out for Static, Starling, Devil Ray and Miss Appear, all while the telepathically controlled horde converged on the heroes.

Strykers Island, Metropolis

_{Interacting with: @Hillan@GreenGrenade@Polyphemus@MrDidact@The Kid Lantern@Weird Tales@FacePunch@LadyRunic}

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The Question's strike rocked Bloodsport back, the unhinged villain stumbling from his feet and hitting the floor on his arse, his appropriated shotgun flying from his grasp. Down, but not out, the con clenched his fists and rolled quickly to his feet. He snarled at the faceless vigilante.

"I tangled with Superman, you faceless coward! I don't need a gun to gut the likes of you!" With that he threw a clod of dirt and mud, that he'd surreptitiously palmed when he'd fallen, at the Question's face. Without waiting to see if the impromptu missile had inflicted the desired blinding effect he followed in quick, charging inside the vigilante's defenses, planning on leading with a series of straight jabs, then ending the combo with a devastating hay-maker. Dirty boxing at it's best and purest.

Mark Moonrider's electric blast and Red Arrow's projectile both struck at once, the Starfish controlling Comet shriveling up from the discharge and dropping from the heroes face, though the intergalactic adventurer was left unconscious, losing his grip on Black and tumbling towards the ground. Manchester let out one short scream before a lasso wrapped itself around his ankle. The Brit felt himself being dragged through the air.

"Oh, this is getting old fast!" he muttered to himself, resolving to clock the next bugger in a costume that he happened to lay eyes on. So, when Donna maneuvered him into her grip, that's what he did. A devious uppercut came up under the Amazon's guard, fueled by Manchester's telekinetic prowess, connecting with the underside of her chin with a resounding kra-koom.

Elsewhere Jon bundled Captain Comet into his gentle grasp long before the unconscious hero hit the ground. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless.

"Uh, hate to interrupt guys, but I think your problems are just starting."

Down on the ground formerly locked up prisoners were making full use of the gaping hole in the maximum security wings wall. A who's who of Superman Rogue's where fleeing the prison. Livewire, Metallo and King Shark were the latest to egress,



Livewire leaping into the air and attempting to zoom past Jon,



while King Shark loped across the prison year, up a staircase set against the prison walls, and leapt over the top handrails into the sea. As soon as he hit the water he began to power himself across the the Metropolis bay, inadvertently putting himself on a collision coarse with the Beast from B'wana.

Metallo on the other hand had checked his headlong escape, instead fixing his gaze towards the sky. . .

Towards Jon.



"Superman." He spat, robotic voicebox adding a metallic chill to the name. Without a second thought the cyborg leapt into the air, hydraulic powered legs easily giving him the power to collide with Jon. Comet tumbled from the Kryptonian-hybrids arms as Metallo attempted to wrap his fingers around his foes neck.

"You're not him." Hissed John Corben, as they tumbled through the air. "I see that now. . . But you'll do in a pinch."

In the prison Luthor had already delved deep into the mostly empty cell blocks. Most cages were empty, evidence of an explosive battle between the guards and the inmates painted everywhere. Here, a mangled body of a guardsman who had caught a shiv in the face, there, another guard hiding under a table. Fires were springing up at an alarming rate, while a piercing and pained shrieking was sounding in the distance. The grimness of the scene might have managed to distract the newly minted Superman from the danger at his heels, or perhaps it was his own over-confidence that allowed him to be taken unawares, but whatever it was he didn't hear the Parasite until it was too late.



"Sooo hungry. . .", came a sibilant whisper at Luthor's ear, before two noodle thin arms, the purple flesh upon them wasted and knotted, wrapped themselves around his chest and face. The energy levels of his suit began to drop at an alarming rate, while the muscles in the Parasite's arms began to pulse with new life.

"Soo good."

Outside, back in the energy prison he'd been left in, the unsupervised Shrapnel screamed his frustration, railing wildly at the forcefield walls in between electrical blasts, though he was having little effect. One more blast shocked him to his core, eliciting a shriek of pure, primal rage. Suddenly he stopped his wild swinging, instead his entire body beginning to visibly vibrate.

Then he exploded.

Luthor's prison couldn't hold the explosive energies, his drones suffering electrical shortouts and sent skidding across the prison yard. The metal shards of Shrapnel's body where likewise sent flying, but, surely by some unseen force, quickly began to piece themselves back together. In seconds Shrapnel had reformed himself, unharmed and unhurt, though no less angry than he had been inside Luthor's cage.

"THAT'S IT!" he snarled, "EVERYBODY DIES, STARTING WITH YOU FUCKING CAPES!" And with that he turned his attentions to the Imp and Red Arrow. He pointed an arm at each target, before exploding his own arms and sending a barrage of razor-sharp fletchets towards each of the vigilantes.

Strykers Island, Metropolis ||| The Imp

The Imp had hit the deck when the explosions racked the prison, using the whirling umbrella as a shield. Stabbing another inmate with the last of the sedatives, she cackled as the other villains exploded from the prison. Things were heating up, and the Imp adored it. The chaos, the madness, it fed into her her psyche. Collapsing the umbrella again, she casually walked through the devastation of the riot. Noting the large suit of engineering beauty, unbeknownst to her being Luthor, was being attacked by a fascinating being she had heard about and done some research on.

Parasite. With a wicked grin she was about to start in that direction before a snarled roar broke her thoughts, glancing to the side she quickly back pedaled, one hand securing the top hat. "EVERYBODY DIES, STARTING WITH YOU FUCKING CAPES!" Organic matter was something she could deal with. This pile of irate organic matter was not something to engage in close quarters with and Lindy well knew it. Snapping the Umbrella back out in a smooth and practiced motion with one hand, with the other she hurled a large vial into the spinning blades. "Organic matter, high velocity, and lethal. And I do not have nor had a affiliation with any 'capes'." She roared the last part right back, fury filling the crazed woman as the highly acidic mixture shot out of the blades towards the oncoming volley. A small spider skittering towards the metal man with surprising speed and powerful leaps to cling to Shrapnel's foot. Wires sparking quietly, as a mad grin and wide eyes emblazoned on the top of it with a unkempt promise of insanity.

Not waiting to trust in those effects she dove to the side, behind the Red Arrow. "Your blasted little break out, ruined my experiments! You're nothing but a stone headed, metal skulled, brute! A lackwit!" Hooking the back of Red Arrow's quiver with the umbrella she yanked him to the side and threw the umbrella in front of them both, metal sheets snapping out of the thin frame to block the barrage. The umbrella was made with the best of everything and she had risked her skin to steal the materials for it. But for all that risk it had been well worth it. One hand rummaged inside the large black coat. clinking and rattling within the many pockets. "So tell me, Sir Lackwit, how is a raven like a writing desk?" The crazed grin dimmed to a grim face of fury, as a gloved hand withdrew a trigger. Slamming her thumb on it the spider on his foot erupted in sparks and a continual stream of electricity. It would ruin the spiders for good rather than the useful little things shocking and moving off they would keep the stream of power up. Something she noted as a causality. "That will last for less time than I would like. I did not expect to have to interfere with such tomfoolery as this." Screams lifted to the air as the inmates or guards with the attached steam spiders lighting up like Christmas lights. At best they would have burns, at worst it would cost them serious damage. It was a fall back, and when one came to fall back measures, it was best not to go half ways with them.