DC One Million: "End Times" #3
Written by Shadowstar,
Edited by Marvelite
DC One Million:
(*ORACLE FACT-FILE: Here's the story so far - the year is 85,273, approximately one million months after the first appearance of Superman Prime in the 20th Century. Superman Prime, Wonder Woman and the spirit of Maleca'andra J'onn J'onzz have been absorbed by the wizard Faust and the mysterious being named Apoch.)
(Meanwhile, Aquaman has been destroyed by magic and Batman eliminated from time by means of magic. The current Superman has deduced an outside force is eliminating the Justice Legion A one by one and has gone to the prison planet of Pluto.)
(And now for the legal stuff. DC One Million and all characters within were created by Grant Morrison during his run on the JLA title and all are copyright to DC Comics © and are used in this story without profit, but totally for fun!)
Dreams May Come"
Justice Legion A Roll Call:
Superman Prime = Superman One Million =
The Flash Aquaman = Wonder
Woman = Owlwoman = The Atom
Continued from Chapter 1 and Chapter 2
The Atom casually gazes over to the Batman, his fellow
Justice Legion A comrade who was supposedly wiped from history, hence their
memories by, well . . . magic. Surely they are allies and fight for the one
cause, but trusting him isn't as simple as Superman Dynasty told him. Talking to
Batman he finds him to be rather, grouchy and grim and instead prefers the
silence, despite its awkwardness.
He wishes that Superman didn't have to leave as
suddenly. Certainly, Metropolis is under attack and needs his immediate
attention, but his departure forced him to spend time with the Dark Knight
alone. He dreads every single moment, and searches frantically about his
laboratory and stations for something new to keep him preoccupied and away from
his team-mates brooding.
There he is, staring into Aquaman's liquid tank,
keeping a close eye on his rate of recovery. It seems a bother to have to go
over and nudge him out of the way as to observe himself, as the Batman would
seem somewhat offended by his intrusion. But it has to be done, whether either
of them likes it or not.
"I can't believe this is happening," he
ponders out loud. "The Justice Legion A, being taken down one by one, as if
"Is that really so preposterous?" His deep,
dark, gravelly tone sends chills along his spine. He just had to walk, no, creep in
and overhear his spoken thoughts. "It is believed by theologians of many
philosophies, as well as some scientists who've dared to explore the notion that
there is an underlying force which connects each and every molecule of
existence. Whether it is God, or karma, nobody can be certain."
"Oh, please," retorts the Atom, trying vainly
to remain objective through his current social predicament. "My work, and
my beliefs are based on facts proven through knowledge and exploration. The most
evidence presented toward your theorem are light particles mimicking each other
from vast distances, and already you go on about an 'underlying force to all
Batman squints, giving much thought to his words. Atom
simply stood, and reminded himself that his current line of thought is a rather
silly one, and that Batman will not attack after making sudden movements.
"My work, too, is based on evidence proven through knowledge and
exploration, as well as my own experience. I find it hard to imagine a universe
created by a chance explosion, and not a higher power with some sort of plan for
the universe. Personally, I would have thought it common sense."
That's it. He's gone too far. He can try work with him,
be friends and comrades with him, surely. But when a mysterious figure enters
the Justice Legion A Headquarters and challenges him scientifically, then he
must debate for many, many cycles on end until such time as he has disproved the
other. It was a private pleasure, even though it was an annoyance to those he
attended university with.
The bellow of an opening Boom Tube resounding through
the halls interrupts them, and draws them into another room where Superman
Dynasty, grief-stricken, is cradling a golden and crimson clad figure, kicking
about, screaming and blurting out bits and pieces of comprehensible words.
"We're all that's left," he announces sadly.
"They've taken the Flash as well."
Welcome to Mercury, the first planet of Sol System
under the great Super-Sun. Here is a world where hundreds of thousands of
sentient stellar computers* are created and run from day to day, and all of the
information passing through the great Galactic Macronet is processed.
(*ORACLE FACT-FILE: A stellar computer is an intelligent system which
when processing information generate vast amounts of heat, and need to be
supported by equipment capable of supporting a miniature sun. The first of these
was the tyrant Solaris, who went back in time and created himself in the 20th
If there were any place that would be considered a
'slum' in Sol System, Mercury would be it. Because of its high temperatures it
still remains densely unpopulated, and only the working class are required to
live there. The standards of living aren't very high, and unfortunately the
people cannot easily afford to rise above it. Some turn to crime, dealing in
illegal icons - badges which allow the wearer to temporarily gain the powers of
one of many legendary heroes.
Everything works at the speed of light here, and
branches out to the rest of the cosmos. It's only fitting that it should be
protected by the latest in the long-standing legacy of the Flash.
His image is known nearly as widely as Superman's is.
All know of the golden-clad hero boasting the crimson red lighting bolt off his
shoulder and down across his costume. He is masked, unnecessarily though, as he
is also publicly known as John Fox, his previous identity. It reaches up from
the neck of his suit and over his eyes, leaving his jet-black hair and grey
fringe outstanding. Then, floating off his ears, shoulders and hips are pairs of
triangular disks, each glowing in full Technicolor.
A lot of it is show, but that doesn't matter. All that
counts is that he looks, and feels like, a hero - there for anyone who might
However, today seems to be the exception, as all his
worst fears have come to life, and once again he is forced into running. For so
long he has been forced to flee from his problems, sometimes at the speed of
light after he gained his super-speed. He remembers back to his home timeframe
in the 27th Century, where he was curator of the Flash museum. One
fateful day a beast rose up to destroy his city, and he fled back in time to
find a hero to aid him in its defeat. That was the first time.
Upon returning he found he had gained incredible speed
and a link with the enigmatic 'Speed Force', which then turned him into the
Flash of that era. He was a hero, but only celebrated for a short while until
time-travel was banned, and eventually enforced by machines known as 'Speed
Metals*'. Being guilty of time jumping, John was declared an outlaw, and was
forced to run for the second time.
(*ORACLE FACT-FILE: Time-travel is banned in the 27th Century,
so to put a stop to any chronal jumping the Speed Metals were developed. These
super-speed robots were fitted with time machines and are programmed to seize
anyone operating through the timestream illegally.)
Now, after running from time to time for so long as a
wanted man, where his 'crimes' are not an uncommon occurrence he has made his
home on the planet Mercury as the new Flash in the 853rd Century, and
eventually joined the Justice Legion A. Unfortunately, it would appear his time
has run out and that for the third time in his life he must run to save himself.
Flash is extremely nervous as he passes through the
streets of his industrial neighborhood. Absolutely every single person, animal
and machine in frozen in time. It's as if he's passing through a still-life
painting. Perhaps this is what they mean by life imitating art? Either way, it
has him completely spooked.
There is a foreign presence . . . somewhere. He can't
pinpoint it's exact location, only a general direction. He's also smart enough
to realize it's in his best interests to keep as far away from it as possible.
Not needing to remind himself twice he searches frantically for some kind of
shelter while bolting across town upon a crooked path of lightning.
His thoughts stop, followed by his feet and his
heartbeat. There it is in the distance, coming for him. It's song whistles in
the wind harmoniously, yet hideously, as if almost beckoning him.
In a flash he's behind the bar of a familiar drinking
establishment, cowering down in terror of the approaching force. He tries
desperately not to hyperventilate at light-speed, and gradually slows his
breath. His eyes wander to a nearby bottle of Nephilim scotch, to which his
fingers reach out and flirt with grabbing.
"Now is a perfect
time to take up drinking, John," he curses himself sarcastically. Surely
death might seem more pleasant if his senses were numbed and he were to be
falling about in a drunken stupor, but there is still that idealistic corner of
his mind telling him that there is a window of escape.
Like mist a pair of black hands pass through the walls
seeking to embrace his soul. Realizing their closeness so suddenly the Flash
jumps to his feet and speeds out of the bar, his very momentum tearing the
old-style swinging doors off of their hinges and into the street.
For the first time in so long he closes his eyes and
prays - begging the powers that be that he should gain the strength and stamina
to live and fight another day. If not for his own sake, then for the sake of the
world he swore to protect. Either way, he does not want to die.
Temptation grips his curiosity, pleading with him to
look back to his mysterious persuer. It gets the best of him, and he pauses to
glance briefly at what would be a most horrendous sight. There, on his tail, was
a being garbed like the Flash, though black, shrouded in darkness and moving
like the living dead.
Death has many forms - for speedsters, its name is the
With every moment his desperation grows and he fights
harder and harder to escape. Hyper-light gels form on the world around as he
draws toward the Speed Field. The frictionless energies gradually increase his
mass toward infinity, slowly breaking his connection with the physical plane.
Though death is only a few steps behind, still gaining
velocity and slowly growing closer. Its bony arms extend toward him with the
promise of silent death. He can't do it - not now. This is not how it's meant to end, damn it!
His feet press harder with the ground below, propelling
him further. He begins to chant, "I think I can. I think I can." Now,
not only is he John Fox, the Flash, but also the little speedster that could.
Stop distracting yourself, John, he curses himself. How
have others escaped the Black Flash? Wally West of the 20th Century
did it, Brandon West of the 45th Century did it as well as the great
Jordan West of the 302nd Century. He'd learned about them when doing
research for a new Flash museum, and suddenly has realized the solution to his
The only way to escape death's touch is to enter a
place where death has no meaning. To survive John Fox must enter the Speed
Field, and risk never being able to return to Sol System.
Foot after foot pounds down until he rises off the
surface and is riding on the particles in the air around at terminal velocity.
His body is a blur, slowly being broken down into pure light information before
his very eyes - he is almost physically getting ahead of himself. He looks back
to death, who is still lunging to him.
"Catch me if you can," he smiles playfully,
still dashing for speed Heaven.
A shockwave blasts out in all directions as John breaks
through a new barrier. Suddenly it's as if all of his weight has been lifted
away, and he flails his about without gravity or anything to hold them back. He
sweats, and almost trips as his haze sends him clumsily stumbling for a few
It's good he quickly regained his composure. A fall at
this velocity could leave him to burn up after breaking out of the speed force,
possibly even breaking his neck, but worst of all submitting to the Black
Flash's will and becoming its latest victim.
Death's desperate breathing can be heard as it
struggles to gain distance with Mercury's hero. Though now it's beginning to
sound like more of a ghostly grunt or growl. Perhaps it is more than a soulless
specter . . .
With an echoing cry it takes a leap forward, then
overshadowing the frantic speedster. It falls, blanketing him in darkness only
seen in the spirit realm. The Flash screams as eternal night falls, and his life
is ended. If only he'd made it a little further . . . the light is so close!
But, alas, he's failed, and now has paid the price with his very soul.
growls the scratched voice of the spirit-collector. He opens his eyes. I'm not
dead, he laughs in private rejoice. Has he made it into the speed field? There,
before him is the Black Flash, and here he stands immune to his touch.
"Damn you, John Fox!"
"Oh. My. God," he gasps as he watches the
darkness melt away from his foe and into the light cast out from the heart of
the Speed Field. Underneath is a white haired man in golden armor. This is the
face of a villain - this is the face of "Savitar!"
The rogue snarls hideously, focused on John Fox with
wide-eyes showcasing only a part of his raging psychosis. His teeth gnash on
each other, grinding together in anger and extreme frustration. How could this
renegade turn would-be superhero outrace him? "None have found out my new identity and lived to tell about it . .
"Until now," smirks the Flash, still barely
able to see the streets of Mercury through a foggy dimension vortex in the far,
far distance. Savitar spits on his boots, much to the Flash's discomfort.
"Now that was just uncalled for, not to mention gross."
"Screw you," he
hisses through his stained yellow teeth. The shades of light shift for a brief
moment, and both their attentions are called toward the heart of the Speed
Force. There, looking down on both of them are a gang of new spirits - namely
Wally West and Jay Garrick, lead by the great Barry Allen. "This is all your fault!"
He bolts toward the former Flashes with murderous
intent, his hands outstretched as so to wring their throats all the sooner.
Though he never makes it that far . . .
"Where do you think you're going?" John, at his new heights of swiftness manages to
stop him dead in his tracks by placing his hand hard on his shoulder. There's a
swift snap and Savitar flies about, totally limp, then landing in an extremely
awkward position. The Flash gasps in panic, "WhathaveIdone!?"
"You've killed him, John."
The three Flashes appear behind him, each looking down upon him with stern
looks. Wally West, though, twitches uncomfortably, holding back some sort of
"He was coming to kill you all," he begs in
his own defense.
"He couldn't have done that," continues Barry. "We're
already dead. In the Speed Field there is no pain, no conflict, no fear."
"Then Savitar is not dead?" He hopes so much
for a 'no', in fact even gets as hopeful as to naively anticipate one after a
minute of deathly quiet. They consult amongst themselves secretly. "Why is
it I feel the impending sense of doom?"
"Because you've stolen a life," snaps Wally. "Savitar was
still in his physical body when he entered the Speed Force, thus, he never died,
until now . . ."
"But, I didn't know!"
"Ignorance is no excuse,"
states the golden age Flash coldly. "You've
committed a crime, and you must be punished or else justice is not done."
Wally steps forward and black mists form around him,
converting him from a man into the vicious specter that was pursuing him. There
is a new Black Flash, one of greater power and John Fox's days as the Flash has
"I'msorrry," he blurts out not realizing he's
back in Justice Legion A Headquarters on the planet Jupiter. There he can see
the Atom tending to Aquaman isolated in a liquid chamber and a dark figure
brooding in the corner. He seems somewhat familiar, but can't remember his name.
"Are you alright, Flash?" The black stranger
who seems a little too much like death for his own comfort races to his side and
checks the readings on the monitors and such around.
"Er . . . yeah, I guess so." He's a little
more than bewildered to say the least.
"My name is Batman," he sighs in annoyance
resting his face in his hand. "We know each other very well, though right
now I doubt you'd remember."
"Okay," he mutters a little confused.
"Well, thanks anyway, Batman. I feel fine. I just had a bad dream is
all." He takes a single step from his sickbed, when suddenly he turns
white. "Oh, crap."
"What is it?"
The Flash takes a few carefully concentrated steps,
then turns to his teammates with a look of worry. "It's my powers," he
says. "I've been cut off from the Speed Force."
The bleak white scene of the Phantom Zone reaches
endlessly across limbo, totally devoid of any life, death, form or structure. It
is simply an empty dimension, which exists and only in use a few times by more
'advanced' species as a form of spatial container of sorts. Now, it is the
prison of three of Sol System's more prominent figures . . .
Wonder Woman's eyes slowly open to limbo, not fully
comprehending what is going on or where she is. Though there is nothing to
comprehend, as there is nothing around - not time, not appearance or even oxygen
to breathe. Anywhere else and this may have been a problem, but not here.
Her eyes wander, barely being able to process the lack
of images being fed through her mind, which in this state is functioning on a
level next to sludge. She does however manage to grasp the shapes of a figure
carved in red stone, looking strangely like her former JLA teammate known as the
Beside him, also lost in a sleep-like trance is the man
who has fed her dreams for nearly 833 centuries - Superman Prime. Despite his
obvious power he now looks weak, even powerless. She cries just wanting to
protect and strengthen him with her love and to break them away from this prison
They fade away into obscurity, as if they'd ventured
off into the heart of a silent blizzard and are now entrenched by snow. She
reaches out, calling for them both not to leave her alone and sends herself
plunging in a different direction aimlessly, maybe forever.
She looks down on her own body, and watches as it too
is devoured by white. She feels no pain, nor anything else. All she can do is
continue to scream silently, as she becomes non-existent like everything else
Suddenly, a piercing shriek from her own lungs fills
the air as she collapses on a hard surface. She's surprised by the sensation of
wet dew on the grass against her fleshy hand, and the cold chill off the breeze
playing upon her bare back. Her eyes open and she takes in a new scenery, one of
incredible beauty and familiarity.
It's as if the sky, the sea and the wide, open field
had painted themselves within a moment's notice. She knows this place, and
doesn't need to be fully awake to know that for some reason or another she is
now standing on one of the outer islands of Paradise Island, also known as
Thymescaria - home to the Amazons*.
(*ORACLE FACT-FILE: The Amazons, which now reside on the entirely female
or gender neutral populated planet of Venus, had formerly made their home on the
mystical island of Thymescaria on Earth under the gods of New Olympus. It wasn't
until the 800th Century when Mercury constructed a space ark and led
the Amazons across the cosmos to their new home.)
"Hello, Diana," speaks a soft, strong voice
from behind. She is glad Superman Prime had survived the Phantom Zone, but was
shocked to see him in more of a human form and clad in the legendary red and
blue costume he bore in the 20th Century.
"What's happened?" He looks almost perplexed
by the question, as if he does not understand what she is talking about. But
something strange has happened. There is no way she can grasp the concept of
jumping back to the 20th Century, back to her previous form - is
As improbable as the idea may sound she is beginning to
wonder whether or not the past 833 centuries were nothing but a dream . . .
The world shifts once more, changing the role of the
figures below once again. Even though her memory remains, Diana isn't even
slightly disturbed by the unusual switch occurring before her very own eyes.
Perhaps it has something to do with the fogginess of her thoughts?
Suddenly she finds two small crowds standing before
her. On one side is the JLA. She recognizes them all - Flash, Green Lantern,
Aquaman, the Martian Manhunter, the Atom, Plastic Man, and even the Batman much
to her bewilderment!
On the other is her Amazon sisters. Some are crying,
though in joyfulness and not grief. The rest smile merrily, wishing that Hera
might bestow her blessings upon her in the times to come. Artemis, her ally and
sometimes rival is seated up front and like the others is beaming happily and
celebrating Diana's union with . . .
"By Hera," she gasps. Down the aisle
separating the two factions is a set of columns with vines growing off them.
Standing there, above all the others is Hyppolitta, immortal queen of the
Amazons, and to her left the 20th Century Superman Prime in all of
"Sisters and brothers," begins Hyppolitta.
"We are gathered here today to witness the coming together of Princess
Diana, my own beloved daughter and ambassador for Thymescaria and Kal-El, the
champion of man's world. Together they share a bond, of love and companionship,
forged by the trials and tribulations of years of service together . . ."
She doesn't hear the rest - rather she sheds tears of
unbridled joy as her dreams become reality before her. It seems almost too good
to be true. In fact, it is. What of Lois Lane - Clark's dear wife in Metropolis?
She knows in her heart that this is not right, no matter how much she wants it.
"I do," says Superman. He makes his vows of
never-ending devotion to Diana and she breaks from her deeper level of dreaming
"And do you, Diana, take Kal-El to . . ."
"No," she interrupts. The crowd breaks out
into conversation, whispering remarks of 'what is she thinking?' and most
probably constructing a solution from idle gossip. She bows her head painfully
and holds her heart. "I just can't . . ."
"Oh, please," hisses a demonic voice.
"You are so stupid! You had him there, right for the taking! Why couldn't
you go through with it? Then you and Superman would be happy for all
She looks down upon herself to see that once more she
is made from living marble. How shocked she is to know that the blessed union
with her true love couldn't happen, not even in a dream. She fumes as Neron the
Demon takes shape only a fair distance away. "His heart belongs to another.
I cannot take her place."
"You would be referring to his darling Lois?"
The demon has a plan, and all is in place. All he needs now is what he's come
for - the very soul of Wonder Woman. "I can take her away and make Superman
Prime forget all about her . . . for a price . . ."
"No, demon," she rebukes regaining her
willpower. "It's not right for me, nor her, but especially for Kal."
The sky turns grey, the grass withers and curls up in a
deathly shape of brown as the violent ocean begins to toss about angrily.
"Does it really matter what the right thing is? If you turn down my offer
you will have done the right thing, but you will still be alone for all of time.
Is that really what you want?"
Wonder Woman's head begins to swim. The hypnotic
effects of the Phantom Zone are beginning to pull her back into a world of
sleep. His offer is tempting, and she has only moments to make a decision.
"I accept," she blurts and the fantasy
disappears . . .
The demon Neron descends once more to the seventh layer
of Hell, where he gathers his minions to march forth and claim a new soul.
"I thought you might," laughs the demon as the dream figures take
their true, dark forms.
Pain. Exhaustion. Frustration. Three concepts which
Superman Dynasty has achieved new levels of understanding for within the last
few minutes. The worst part of it is that his current predicament seems far from
"I'll admit, you're tough," he states
angrily. He rotates his arms and leaves himself a moment to let his recuperative
abilities take effect. "I must inform you though, that I have abilities
even surpassing a Kryptonian."
Tar-Ul, Kan-Ja and Tor-Vel don't look even slightly
intimidated. They are supermen and they are fighting for their cause. There is
no way they are going to let an impure metahuman like Superman Dynasty stand in
their way of achieving racial purity.
He frowns, and wishes the Flash hadn't fallen from
action when he did.
The city's hero looks around at the carnage inflicted
upon his home. It eats away at his heart that the Metropolis Tesseract, which he
has been sworn to protect since the day of his birth has now been so ravaged by
activists from New Krypton, the very people from which Kal-El's legacy was born.
The sleek white buildings crumble and burn. The air
around is tainted by the smell of thick smoke. The clear blue sky is drowned it
with dark clouds of carbon rising from the raging infernos. He can hear the
screams of the city's inhabitants and they flee for their very lives. It's times
like this he wish he didn't have super-enhanced hearing.
His 'forefathers', dare he call them that, have reduced
paradise to rubble, and thusly must be brought to justice.
Before being able to place to them another warning he
is struck down from behind by a wave of untamed energies. He rolls about
uncomfortably in the smoldering crater he is currently embedded in and looks up
to see a strange character bearing the infamous 'S' logo. His suit is designed
similar to that of the past Superman Prime, but with trims of black along the
side. By the looks of the stranger, his block military haircut and the menacing
grimace chiseled into his firm square jaw he is more soldier than hero.
The fact is this is no carrier of the Superman legacy,
but instead it's destroyer. New Krypton has created a brand new Eradicator*.
(*ORACLE FACT-FILE: The Eradicator is a Kryptonian machine bonded with a
biological host, capable of generating and projecting mass energies in an
offensive fashion. It's sole purpose is to ensure that the Kryptonian bloodline
remains pure from becoming tainted by others of foreign species.)
He begins to generate another blast and seethes with
hatred at the very sight of the Superman squirming underneath. His arms extend
to either side as he prepares to fling a blast of power into the heart of
Metropolis. "Let's see you intercept these, freak," he spits.
Faster than a speeding bullet Superman Dynasty is there
to catch the monorail as it supports collapse under the force of the
Eradicator's blast. He glides down slowly, being careful not to break the
vehicle in half or leaving it to crash into the ground.
As soon as the people are safe and ensured to receive
no more than a sudden shock he is off to defeat the Kryptonians laying havoc to
his fair town. Tough he never made it that far, as when he made it to the open
sky he found himself dodging blasts from the deadly machine so bent on his
"Alright," says Superman, focusing on the new
target. "If you want to play first, then we shall."
The Eradicator smiles in a moment of morbid humor only
one of his programming could find amusing. Finally, he has the chance to prove
himself against the 'hero' who disgraced Krypton's reputation after it was long
thought dead. His dark brown eyes burning with tempered rage practically beg for
him to attack.
Simultaneously the two powerhouses snap in action and
like blurs they propel toward each other, soon colliding in a barrage of
punches, kicks and blocks faster than eyes can follow, even those of regular
Kryptonians. It would seem that in combat the two are evenly matched, but the
fact remains that the Eradicator still maintains the upper hand. The longer they
are distracted, the longer the Kryptonian activists have to 'advertise their
He needs to take the violent protesters out of the
equation, and in a moment Superman Dynasty calculates hundreds of probable (as
well as thousands of improbable) solutions. At random an immediate course of
action is chosen, and the Man of Steel executes it before he has time for a
"You could use some time to cool off," he
remarks at the hotheaded machine before blowing super-compressed air particles
stored in his lungs upon him. Icy shapes begin to form and chill over the top
half of the Eradicator, leaving him veritably frozen in mid-air. Superman raises
his arms and brings his fists down upon him, sending the body hurtling to the
ground with great force.
He grants himself only a moment to take a breath and
recompose himself. To win he has to break their rhythm, make them play his way.
Though he has no chance, and as soon as the Eradicator is out he is under full
A pair of blaring red lasers blasts by him like
continuous lances of fire. A second and third set follows, forcing him to
contort between them as if they were knives rushing by him. His cape and tatters
of his costume are sliced open by the Kryptonian's laser vision and force him to
retreat in order to avert the dangerous angles of the rays.
Racing behind the buildings, he bounces over all areas
of the town in an attempt to confuse his opponent's super-senses. By their
puzzled looks he'd say that it's working. So he swoops down to the ground behind
them and makes a deathly sharp turn only a Superman could survive and attacking
his bewildered enemies from below.
They are hardly a match. In this battle they seem
reliant on the strength and abilities granted to them under the great Super-Sun,
but no experience or knowledge on how to use them to their full capacity. It
takes only a few brief blows to disable them.
It's true they are no Superman Prime. Even though his
20th Century counterpart was nowhere close to as developed as he, he
still managed to put up a descent fight when confronted.*
(*ORACLE FACT-FILE: The 20th Century Superman Prime fought the
latest in the 853rd Century Superman Dynasty when the Justice Legion
A and the Justice League of America switched places in time, just prior to the
destruction of Solaris.)
A great shock from the Eradicator interrupts his
onslaught, forcing him to turn back his attention and allow for the Kryptonians
to soar away. They are in pain, but are still well enough to go on. He hopes,
though in vain, that they'd made their point and would decide to flee . . . at
least for now.
The Eradicator, the supposed 'genetic liberator of
Krypton' extends his arms once more, this time preparing a maelstrom of power
enough to wipe out his foe on a molecular level. Knowing this, Superman races up
and holds Eradicator's arms to the Heavens, pointing them away from his beloved
"You! Can't! Beat! Me!" His harsh electronic
voice begins to crackle under the force of their titanic grapples. Superman
doesn't respond, at least in words. He can only prove himself through his
actions, fuelled by his immense frustration. He is Superman, the guardian of
Earth and the greatest hero of all time! There is no way he will allow his
legacy to be so disappointed . . .
A roar echoes through the streets. It does not sound
like a man, even a savage like the Eradicator. No, it's an animal of some sort,
hungry for blood. Though he cannot look - his gaze is locked with that of his
nemesis, and has to prove to him that he is not the weaker and that above
everything else good will prevail over the twisted reality the Eradicator is
fighting to promote.
His attention wavers for a second and Superman Prime
has the advantage, at least in the intensity department. He uses his sensory
abilities to examine his opponent's physiology. And your bio-mechanical
regenerative cortex should be right about . . . "There!"
His fist plummets into the center of the Eradicator's
chest, tearing through the circuits and various mechanical workings until he's
removed what he's aiming for. He grips onto part of his metallic insides, then
pulling a round silver ball from his heart. The villain's body grows heavy, and
he falls to the hard ground at terminal velocity.
"If I'm not mistaken," ponders Superman
Dynasty examining the object in his hand, "this little device is what
generates and regulates your power, allowing you to throw bolts of energy and
fly via manipulation of gravity fields. It should take your system a good while
to reform it, and keep you out of mischief in the meantime."
The sounds of slaughter call him back into battle, and
like a shot he is away to confront the suspected evil knocking back Kryptonians
with much ease. He almost dreads having to go ahead. By the way he envisions
whatever it is it may be as powerful, even more so than he.
He lands in the open street before the invader's vessel
where the sounds of death ring out like church bells for all to hear. This line
of violence is untolerated in his city, let alone all of Sol System. Maybe he
should make his presence known. "Ahem!"
His blood turns to ice as from the shadows of the craft
floating above a burly creature steps out. It is made of shards of stone, with
talons and thick flesh impervious to any kind of attack. This is the ultimate
killing machine, and it has returned to end the Superman legacy once and for
Before him is Doomsday - the 20th Century
murderer of Superman Prime . . .
NEXT ISSUE: Superman Dynasty's worst nightmare has come true - Doomsday, the beast who killed Superman Prime in the 20th Century, has come for him. It's time for the Man of Steel to step up to the plate, while the Atom struggles to keep the team together. Read it now in Chapter 4, "Apocalypse" . . .
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