Issue 0 February '04

By Dawn Byrnes, Gregory Hernandez, Conner "J" Kent,
Kobie Minter, Michael Sacal, and Aaron Thall
http://members.fortunecity.com./xxycor/omniverse/

The Omniverse Fanfic Site takes the DC, Marvel, Wildstorm, and Image universes and merges them into one. Careful thought has been given to the past, present, and future of this new reality to create the fiction you find here.

Cut off date from continuity is December 2000. Omniverse is updated Every 15th and 30th of the Month.

By Gregory Hernandez

IRON FIST

A crowd of people waits to cross the street. It's early. Gotham City in the a.m. is like a hungry lion just remembering it has to go out and kill.

On one side of the avenue there is a tall, broadly built Western European type, wearing a black heavy leather jacket with some particularly mean-looking spikes. A biker. On the opposite side of the street, almost directly across from him was a man fully a head shorter than the leather jacket wearing tough guy. He was the man's opposite in almost every way: he was blond-haired, wiry and muscular, and had the look of a student. The biker moved like a linebacker, the student moved with a grace that was almost feline. It was a lion and a panther crossing into each other's territory, neither willing to back down.

The blond man looked over at the tall biker. The big man had the general look of a roadside tough, but as the smaller man stared at him, somehow, the taller man's features became more indistinct. His body seemed to waver and shimmy before the younger man's eyes, then change. Gone was the leather jacket, replaced by bizarre weatherbeaten armor. The man's features hardened, became older and also battle-scarred.

The light turned green.

The two men crossed the street and passed each other, without saying a word.

The blond man rubbed his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the tall receding shape. Everything seemed normal about him.

Danny Rand turned and walked on into the belly of the beast that was Gotham City. His intent was to take a brief walk on the docks of Gotham City, to try to clear his mind before a meeting he was to tend to shortly. He didn't want to show up all nice and neat in a suit and tie, and murderous vengeance in his eyes. It ruined the effects of the suit.

Danny Rand wasn't going to get a chance to clear his mind, however. Not only was he disturbed at the optical illusion he'd just experienced while crossing the street, but just as he reached the docks, he was unexpectedly attacked!

The first of the attackers seemed to pour himself right out of the water, then congeal right in front of Danny. He was followed by three others (Lead, Iron, Tin), then two more (Gold and Platinum).

Iron assumed the point of the phalanx. Tin and Lead flanked him. The latter two arrivals stood behind and seemed detached, disinterested. All the figures seemed more or less human, with the two in the rear looking nobler than the rest. All of the Metal Men seemed malleable. Danny Rand didn't wait to see what else they could do. He pushed the center Metal Man into the water “Iron!” yelled the Metal Man made of liquid metal.

“Don't worry,” said Iron, “I've got him”

Danny Rand noticed there would be no pressure points that he could exploit, so his approach was to use weight, balance and force. He saw Iron coming back out of the water. Summoning up the power of his chi, Danny Rand concentrated and made his fist as hard as unto a thing of metal itself. Guided by his chi, directed by his mind, and empowered with a force beyond man.

There was an arc of light as Danny Rand swiveled his hip and uncoiled his fist right into the middle of the leaden Metal Man. He punched a hole right through Lead's trunk. Pulling his fist midway back through the hole, Danny Rand drove the glowing force of the Iron Fist right up through the middle of him.

Danny Rand did a back flip, reached where he knew Iron would be, then using his technique and his surprise advantage, he picked up the Metal Man and hurled him straight into a brick wall with such force that Iron shattered into pieces.

Next, Iron Fist attempted to disable Tin the same way he had dispatched his companion Lead, but by this time the surprise advantage was lost. Tin was changing shape, becoming some sort of machine with rolling blades and vicious lupine teeth and muzzle. The wolf-machine hurled some of its sharp blades at Iron Fist, who avoided them easily and backed away to avoid getting in the way of those vicious jaws.

To his dismay, Iron Fist noticed that the bodies of Iron and Lead were beginning to reform themselves.

PROPHET

The man crossing the street was well over six feet tall and stands a full head taller than anyone else around him. A blond guy stays staring at him, but the two pass each other as they cross without incident.

That's the way of the big city. A million tiny showdowns, imaginary confrontations. Every day drama. Rituals of personality. Street magic.

And I am a street magician.

“You look like a busy man,” I said to the tall gentleman, as I fell into step with him. “In a hurry,” I commented on his pace.

The man said nothing, he merely grunted and kept going. It's the sort of thing you do in the city, say, if a persistent beggar or salesman dogs one's heels. I kept with him, though. “Mind if I ask where you're in a hurry to?”

The tall man stopped dead in his tracks and turned to me, his pursuer. I had run the animal to ground. Would I dare take him on?

“When I was a young man, I lived overseas. Even there we heard of the great hero of Gotham city.” His voice was deep, guttural. He spoke heavily accented English. His accent was almost German, but rougher. It had the lilt of the Slavic tongues. It was the most unusual accent I had ever heard, and that was saying much. He didn't seem like a Batman nut. And where did he think he was off to? To the local chapter of the Veterans of Superheroic Wars to invite Batman to tea?

“The great hero of Gotham City?”

“That is correct.”

“Bat--” I began.

“The Green Lantern,” John Prophet intoned, reverently.

“I can take you to him,” I blurted out. Could I?

I had a feeling I could, even though I had no idea of where to begin. “Sometimes, you can feel the pulling of the strands of Fate,” I said.

“What was that?” John Prophet wanted to know.

“Something I picked up from an old teacher.”

“What is it you want?” John Prophet asked.

“I want to tell you a story, and walk with you for a little while.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I really don't feel like company.”

“When I was a younger man, I used to sell newspapers on the street corner --”

“Hey, didn't you hear what I said? I'm not interested in company right now --”

“Cease,” said the smaller man. And the world stopped. Activity all around him became suspended. John Prophet could hear everything the smaller man said, but he was completely incapable of motion. What kind of power can suspend time and operate outside of it? “Who are you?” John Prophet asked.

“I have many names. I was known for a while as Dr. Druid. Is this name familiar to you?”

“I regret that it is not, although I have known druids in my time. I was in suspended animation in a German laboratory until only the past few years. My last memories are of the Great War. Even then, in the 1940's, we in Germany had heard of the great American hero as Green Lantern. That is why I came here, to see him. I counted on his being able to help me.”

“For what reason?”

“Ever since my revival, I have been in contact with an orbiting satellite which has been the source of much of my power. But now that line of communication has been cut off. I can't sense DOCC anymore. I need to find some way to reach him. I imagined that he could help me. But you, what do you want from me?”

Dr. Druid looked as if he debated a moment before being candid. “I am dead now. I did great evil before I died. My soul was corrupted. It has been given me the opportunity to return to Earth several more times, to make penance. If I act correctly, I may save my soul from eternal damnation. My first act of contrition is to open your eyes to the world around you. I can do that as we walk.”

Dr. Druid snapped his fingers and the world resumed its steady course. “Voilá,” he stated.

“Danke,” John Prophet replied in his native tongue.

They were walking down the crowded avenue, following the rest of the morning commuters on their way to the train station to make their way to work. Dr. Druid began to speak urgently to John Prophet. “You have a truly unique soul, John. You are about to embark on a long journey. What you need to know is that it is not what people might say or try to convince you about. You will know the facts, because they will be indisputable.”

“Facts about what?” John asked.

They made a left turn when they reached the station. Ignoring Prophet's question, Dr. Druid continued his earlier anecdote. “What I started to say before was that my first exposure to Gotham City was as a poor immigrant child selling newspapers in the city. That was in the day before newspaper kiosks and those plastic little receptacles. I grew familiar to my customers, and they to me. In between hawking papers, I would talk to and watch some of the other local street characters. There was the hot dog vendor. Some of the local merchants. And a man who would sell watches. It was he who interested me the most. He wasn't selling new fake watches. They were old; some of them were real antiques. He claimed that he was an estates salesman, and that what he peddled he got legitimately from the estates of the recently deceased. It didn’t explain why he was selling them on the street. I would strike up a conversation with him, as I would with others. Partly to practice my English, partly a child's curiosity – and partly because I knew there was something special about this peddler. Some street magic clung to him.”

“Street magic?” Prophet wondered, but he might as well have been talking a different language.

“He would let me inspect his wares,” Dr. Druid continued. “As if I were going to buy one. But mostly, I think, because he saw that I appreciated them. Some of the watches were inscribed. I remember reading the inscriptions and feeling the thrill as if I was coming upon some secret information, some hidden moment in some couple's lives. And who knew what significance some of the inscriptions had? I remember one of them to this day. You will always be the sin in my garden, and forever I will be yours (and it was signed) Sweet pear. Who knew when that was inscribed, or the life the owner had lead after being presented with the token?”

Dr. Druid had led Prophet across a dizzying collection of intersections, alleyways and shortcuts, until Prophet was completely lost.

The little man resumed his equally perambulating adventure. “It was then that my love of the hidden began. Or perhaps it was always there. An immigrant will almost always be alive to the wonders, both obvious and taken for granted, and hidden or obscure, of a new city of residence. It is a matter of seeing with fresh eyes.”

“What did you see?” Prophet asked.

With a movement that was quicker than he could follow or anticipate, Dr. Druid covered Prophet's eyes with his gnarled little hands. “What you will now see,” he intoned.

When he took his hands away, Prophet indeed saw.

What he saw was a world alive in entirely new ways, and awake with new possibilities. In the grill of subway air vents Prophet saw the barely luminescent eyes of troll-like creatures which lived underground; in the shadows of an alleyway he saw the ghosts of a suicide and a murder victim; moving along the rooftops of the dockside warehouses (for that is where he now found himself), Prophet saw the dancing figure of a clown-like man who trailed long gossamer strings behind him, like some celestial puppet master.

One thing that Prophet did not see, however, was Dr. Druid. The little man had disappeared.

Prophet kept moving forward, hearing a hullabaloo up ahead. To his surprise, John Prophet saw the same blond-haired young man that had crossed the street before him earlier in the day. The man was evincing some shockingly good fighting skills taking on a number of opponents, who were evidently not human. The beings that attacked the man had metallic skin. The blond man seemed to dispatch two of the group with little difficulty, except that they regrouped remarkably fast. The man looked to be in trouble. Before John Prophet could react to help the young warrior, however, the young man ripped open his shirt, revealing a dragon tattoo. The young man chanted and concentrated, and suddenly a bright red and yellow flame seemed to burst upward from the tattoo, engulfing the man's opponents. John prophet stood rooted to the spot as the flame, in the shape of a dragon, coursed over the Metal Men and fused them together into a ball.

Without another word, Danny Rand departed the alley. “Follow him,” said Dr. Druid's voice from behind John Prophet. Prophet turned, but of course there was no one there.

John Prophet followed Danny Rand to find the legendary Green Lantern, and walked onward to face his destiny.

Author's Notes

To find out more about Iron Fist and Prophet's first adventure together, read the latest issue of World’s Finest Tales of Suspense, featuring the Heroes For Hire versus... Pitt!

Inside/Outside
By Gregory Hernandez

The Calm Before Sue Storm

Susan Storm faced the Burning Lands. The ruins of Arizona, New Mexico and California served as a reminder of the death and the devastation that had been visited upon America and the world during the reign of the Sovereign *.

*: See the Our Omniverse At War crossover. NOTE: This story takes place in the Positive Zone, an alternate reality version of Earth where some of the Omniverse heroes stayed after the war with the Sovereign... Greg.

"So much has changed," she said. "So much was lost."

Not just lives, she remarked internally, but personally as well. She turned and faced the Citadel. Formerly the prison complex of the J'Onn J'Onzz, the Warlord of New Mars, Susan and her husband had been kept prisoner behind the walls for months. The Warlord had become fascinated with her and her powers of invisibility. She had been treated relatively well.

Her husband, however... Her husband had not been quite so lucky...

All The Bells And Whistles

Reed Richards moved into the bowels of his laboratory. He was careful to avoid the powerful magnets around the lab since they would interfere with his exoskeleton. He had rewired the installation's cameras so that they could be accessible from his laboratory and his office. He caught a glimpse of his wife on one of the cameras. His warren of offices had also of late begun to serve as his living quarters. He sighed. For a second he stopped. The beeps and whirs from his exoskeleton became loud in his ears. The mechanical framework that supported his body also monitored his physiological well-being. Too bad it couldn't do the same for his mental outlook. A reading on that would be an almost flat line.

He missed his wife, but he had to admit that the strain between them, along with the long drawn out recovery from his torturous experiences at the hands of the man-machine Ahab, had caused him to withdraw from her. Not only from Susan, but most people in general. Not only because the Reed Richards of this world had been a noted torturer and cruel vivisectionist, but also because his experiences at the hands of Ahab had left his body a shambles. He didn't feel human. His body had been pulled out of shape and he had to wear the exoskeleton to be able to do anything. Ahab had left the former Mr. Fantastic a shell of a man, a man only half alive. Sometimes Reed thought to himself that he would have been better off dead, rather than locked in this halfway state.

Reed Richards continued to scuttle around the laboratory. He felt more alone now than he had ever felt in his life. It had been some months since the end of the Sovereign's reign and because he was so seldom seen, rumors were beginning to circulate that he had died of his injuries or committed suicide. Reed heard the rumors, but did nothing to dispel them. He missed his family, but the person he found himself thinking about more and more was not Susan, it was his son Franklin.

"...Fantastic!"

Franklin Richards, miles away from the desert winds of the Burning Lands, was enjoying a cool respite with some of the younger heroes who had escaped the wrath of the Warlord, the Sovereign and their minions.

Billy Batson was talking to a new arrival to the ranks of the super powered. The boy had arrived in New York City clad in a slightly modernized version of the Star Spangled Kid's costume. Although the rest of the heroes didn't know who was behind the mask, Billy Batson seemed to know the new kid's identity. There even seemed to be some shared history there. During his time as an apprentice to the old hero Uncle Sam, Billy had been known as one half of the Stars and Stripes. Now that he was Sorcerer Supreme and went by the name of Marvel, it seemed odd that there was somebody else who was going by that name. Or maybe not. Franklin had his suspicions as to the identity of the new Star Spangled Kid...

"Mmm. Cherry coke. That's one of the tastes that I missed over the last few years," The Kid said approvingly. "Not the most important thing, I know, but still. Now everybody can enjoy one."

"Ick," commented Billy Batson, succinctly.

The kids found themselves in Ross’ Soda Shoppe, one of the new establishments that had popped up in the last couple of months as part of the rebuilding that was going on nationwide. Like many of the new stores, the Soda Shoppe had seemed to spring up from the rubble almost overnight. With the number of metahumans who were helping with the reconstruction, it was possible that it had done just that. Just like the heroes that suddenly kept reappearing.

Billy, Franklin and Sam (the Star Spangled Kid) were sitting with another new arrival. The Atom had literally popped up out of nowhere one Kryptonopolis morning and helped them start rebuilding. Although he had been fairly tight-lipped about what had happened or where he had been, a quick DNA scan (courtesy of a machine Franklin's dad had whipped up), had confirmed his identity. So now Ray Palmer found himself hanging out with the other teenaged kids at the Soda Shoppe. He seemed bemused as he looked around.

"Funny how the 1950’s style has come back into vogue," he commented. "People always act as if that was somehow a better time."

Franklin Richards took a sip of his cherry Coke. "You act as if you'd been there and knew that era first hand."

Billy and Sam exchanged a glance. "Not at all," Sam commented coolly. "I'm just referring to how simple a picture nostalgia paints of the world."

"Tell me about it," Ray Palmer said. "Ask any person of color who's old enough and find out if they thought it was a better time. And I did live through those times." He took another spoonful of his root beer float. "One thing's for sure, though -- " He looked at Billy Batson, who, smiling, finished his thought for him.

"-- This ice cream sure tastes good!"

"Remembering the past, even through rose-colored glasses, is not a bad thing," Ray Palmer said a moment later. "Just so long as you aren't trapped in a cage of false nostalgia."

Franklin didn't say a word. He just drank his Coke in silence, lost in thought.

The Prisoner In Cell Block H

The prison stank of more than just human waste. Not surprising, really, considering the inmates. It had been days since any of the prisoners had seen so much as a prison guard. Thankfully, this meant that the tortures had also ceased.

The blond-haired young man got some respite from his pain; at least, no new pain was forthcoming. At the other end of the dank corridor where he was contained he heard faint snuffling sounds, like an animal resting or too weak to move. Occasionally, from other parts of the underground prison, there would come loud roaring, on the one hand sounding like men venting their frustration at being unable to escape their bondage, but which also sounded like lions proclaiming their territorial boundaries.

Were prisoners being fed to animals? Was that the fate that awaited him?

The prisoner knew he had to get out soon, while he still had strength to make the attempt.

First, he tested his strength against the iron bars. Try as he might, he could find no weakness in their construction. There had been plenty of upheavals in the past couple of days, but the bars were rooted as firmly as ever. Next, the blond captive took the metal plate on which his meager rations had been served and attempted to dig out a hole between the iron bars and the concrete walls big enough to squeeze his body through, but to no avail. All his efforts did was make him exhausted and slowly begin to lose hope. Finally, the blonde captive three the plate against the far wall. He was surprised to hear a deep groggy snuffling sound coming from the cell next to his. There was a heavy scuffling sound, as if some huge body was awakened from its slumber by the blond boy's outburst.

"Hey! You!" the prisoner yelled. "How does your cell look like? Is there any chance that you can get out?"

There was no response from the adjacent cell.

He tried again. "Hey, there's no need to be afraid of me -- maybe we can help each other escape somehow?"

Still nothing.

"Why won't you answer me?!" He yelled. The young man felt anger welling up inside his breast. "I wish you were in this cell with me. I'd get some noise out of you..."

The young prisoner stopped, and turned around. There, in the furthest corner of the cell, a shadow among shadows moved. He was no longer alone. Shuffling forward, a great hulking beast with slavering jaws made its way towards him...

White Queen

Susan turned her face from the Burning Lands. Many of the former inmates of the Citadel wouldn't venture anywhere near it, thinking it was haunted. Susan didn't think they were being superstitious. She knew well enough that their suppositions had some basis in fact. For there on her left stood the apparition of man she knew was dead.

The green-skinned figure of the Martian Manhunter was there, shimmering in the heat coming off the arid desert sands. And he was the Manhunter once again, not the Warlord of New Mars, seduced by the Sovereign into thinking that he could somehow resurrect his long-dead people. Although mute, the spirit of J'Onn J'Onzz looked at Sue Storm with pleading eyes and with outstretched hands. He looked as if he was either trying to give her warning, or was asking her for something, she couldn't tell which. In a sudden burst of fury coupled with frustration, she unleashed a barrage of invisible waves of concussive force at the ghost. To no avail of course. The figure just stood there, expressing its silent pity, its mute reproach.

"Susan!" A voice on the wind.

"Susan Storm!" Closer this time. Not the ghost.

"Sue?!" The Manhunter vanished. Susan saw the figure of Frankie Raye approaching.

"Hey there, Frankie-girl," Susan said easily. "I couldn't tell it was you at first with the sand in my eyes and all. What are you doing out here?"

An easy friendship had grown between the two women, aided in part by the life that Frankie Raye carried within her. If Susan Storm had to pick the one decisive reason she had stayed behind on the Positive Zone Earth when all the heroes of her world had packed up and gone, it was this woman. Sue Storm's brother Johnny had given his life to defend this world, to give hope to this woman and all those like her who had survived the terror of the Sovereign's mad reign, and she felt duty-bound to do the same. The only part of Johnny that was left was living within Frankie Raye. She couldn't abandon the child and its mother, never to see either of them again. Susan also had to admit that with the gulf that had grown up between she and her husband, Frankie had been a great comfort to her.

"The question," Susan said in mock-disapproval, "...is not what I am doing here, but what are you doing out here in the blazing sun. With the wind blowing, you could easily get disoriented, even lost."

Frankie Raye laughed as the two of them began to walk back to the Citadel. "Don't give me that you could get lost malarkey, you," Frankie Raye chided, and then pointed at the sky over the Citadel. A faint multi-hued luminosity was visible, even in the daytime. Although some thought of it as the Citadel's new force field, both women knew that it was more than that. The grid was powered by the combined energies of four of the Earth's elemental beings. The Sovereign's experiments in crude terraforming had so structurally compromised the planet that the world was even now in danger of exploding like old Krypton.

"Okay, okay," Susan laughed. "But what are you doing out here Frankie?" she asked.

"The professor was trying to reach you," Frankie answered simply.

That brought a new tension in her friend, one that Frankie tried to dispel by putting her hand gently on Susan's arm. "I know this is not my place, Susan, but have you tried to work things out with your husband? I imagine he could really use your support right now."

"That is what you would think, isn't it?" Susan sighed, and all her tension left with that exhalation of breath. All that was left was bitter resignation. "But he won't let me near him. He shuts the doors to the laboratories whenever I'm around. I get the impression that he sometimes comes in to the room when I'm sleeping, but he doesn’t sleep in the same bedroom with me anymore. He hadn't for weeks. That was when I decided to live in other quarters. He shut me out, not the other way around."

They both walked along in silence for a few more minutes. Then Susan asked:

"What did he want me for, anyway?"

Deathlok

Susan Storm and Frankie Raye walked into the laboratory hub that functioned as experimental lab and security command for the Citadel. Reed's face appeared on a bank of monitors. When she saw him on the screen, looking all rosy and healthy, Susan felt a ray of hope begin to shine on the barren garden that her heart had become.

"Reed!" Susan Storm exclaimed. "What happened? How did you manage to --?"

"It's a simulacrum," Reed Richards answered proudly, completely misunderstanding the situation. "I calculated that it would be easier for anyone having to report in to me."

"Oh," Susan said in a small voice. She was crestfallen, but only Frankie Raye noticed. "I see."

"I just wanted to test out the new system and see what you thought of it," Reed continued matter-of-factly. "If for some reason I am unable to tend to the security system, the bank of monitors on your right will..."

Susan couldn't just continue to stand there and listen calmly as if there was nothing wrong. Tears started streaming down her face. In just those few moments that it took for her hopes to be raised, and then swiftly dashed, Susan Storm became aware of just how much she had been putting her life on hold waiting for her half-dead husband to come back to her. No longer. "I can't take this anymore!" she yelled and ran out of the room.

Just then an alarm began to sound.

Animal Man

Susan Storm ran out of the room. She left behind the confines of the prisoner's tower. She ran out of the compound, and found herself outside of the Citadel, staring at the desert. Again. She heard the scream of the alarms and ignored it. Right now, she felt like she should have been the one who was screaming. Screaming, tearing her hair out, her heart out, screaming for her shattered life. That was how she felt on the inside. Outside, she looked like a woman in her early thirties who was breathing heavy from the sprint she had just made, but otherwise in control, calm.

That was the difference between the inside and the outside.

There was a third factor in play: staring at the desert she felt as if she was being scoured clean from the inside out. Her old life was eroding away before her eyes. Too much had happened, so much time had passed, her former life was being melded into a different shape before her eyes. At different times during the past few years she had felt that her life was one filled with ceaseless struggle. Now she saw it as an idealized time. All the struggles and heartache that she had endured on a world a universe away was nothing compared to what had happened to her and her family since her arrival on this world. Her eyes had been opened to what true misery was like. The Sovereign had brought true devastation to this world. All her struggles in her former life paled in comparison. Her brother had died fighting the tyrant; her husband had endured tortures that made him lose control of his body's elasticity. But the scars of his body were nothing compared to the scars on his psyche. She had lost him, and he had lost himself. Even Ben Grimm, who though not related was as close to her in some ways as her brother and husband, was now and forever lost to him. When he had stepped through the gate to return, along with the other heroes, to their home world, it was with the knowledge that he could never return. He -- and they -- were forever lost to each other.

Susan thought about her son. "Ah, Franklin..." She said to the desert wind. Even her son had lost much. He had lost first his innocence, then his youth. Through the machinations of some of the Sovereign's enemies, Franklin had been aged to the point of being a young man. A powerful mutant in his own right, they had sought to use Franklin for their own purposes. When he would not submit, Elijah Snow had psychically lobotomized him, sealing away most of his powers from his use. Most, but not all. "Ah, Franklin, how I wish you were here with me now. I need you so." Her son was now with the others who were helping to build the ruined cities along the East Coast of America. The Sovereign had destroyed all Gotham City, Metropolis, and parts of New York. First the Justice League Relief Squad and now most of what remained of the PZ heroes were assisting in the reconstruction. Only a handful of people devoted themselves to the reclaiming of the Warlord's fortress and the monitoring of the Burning Lands of the West Coast (formerly known as New Mars).

Susan Storm looked around her. She half-expected to see the ghost of the Manhunter lingering on the edge of the desert like a heat mirage, or the worried face of the very real Frankie Raye, but neither of them were there. What she had not expected to see was a young man, about Franklin's age, with long, lanky blond hair and a filth-strewn body, to come staggering out of the desert and come towards her.

The young man staggered, and then fell at her feet. Susan Storm bent to minister to him. "What is your name?" she asked.

"Kamandi," the wild boy managed to gasp, then was silent.

Next Issue:

The elementals sense a disturbance and the spirit of vengeance rides again!

Author's Notes

As the end of the Our Omniverse At War crossover approached earlier last year I knew that it would be time for me to say goodbye to the first place in the Omniverse that had welcomed me, story-wise, and I was bummed out by it.

I had felt really comfortable there. It was like a blank slate that I was eager to write upon. I had started with picking up the Fantastic Four backup series in JLA and had grown to include the Omni Spider-Man, the Sons of Midnight, along with the Microverse, Ray Palmer/The Atom and assorted other odds and ends, including the Big Blue Boy Scout himself.

So, as we approached end-date, I came up with an audacious plan -- what if the FF elected to remain in this brave new scary world? After all, the FF of this world had been responsible for some atrocities, might not Reed at least feel the obligation to stay behind and correct some of his counterparts’ mistakes?

And the stories grew from there. Unfortunately, it's taken my pen a while to catch up, but here I am. I hope you enjoy this teaser issue. Believe me, there's a lot more fun stuff in store.

By Kobie Minter

Metropolis, Delaware. December 24th 7:03 p.m....

"Door." A single word brought forth a single opening. What came through, however, was more trouble than any page in the Library of Congress could describe.

Because what came through the Door was the Authority -- Jack Hawksmoor, Swift, Midnighter, Apollo, the Doctor and the Engineer --, who came to Metropolis to act as clean up crew... as soon as they cleaned up their field leader, who clenched up and fell to his knees immediately upon setting foot on the Metropolis wasteland.

The Doctor looked over and tilted his head, speaking to no one in particular. "Nothing more than bitters and soda won't fix..."

Swift looked at the Doctor and shook her head, then took to the air. Her movements were those of force and not grace. The Authority's resident bird of prey tore through the winds like they were papers, each flap of her wings fighting with the ruined city.

To the injured Hawkman it was the absolute most arousing thing he'd seen in the past two lives.

Hawkgirl noticed too. She gave Carter a sideways glance and stormed off on foot. "Shoeless, showoff throwback cave bitch..." Hawkman looked over and shrugged.

Midnighter's enhanced senses picked up on Kendra's hiss and he quietly observed as she took flight to aid with the relief. "Says the hag in the ugly boots."

Hawksmoor looked up and surveyed the entire area, wincing upon each step he took. Jack looked over to his team and spoke to them.

"Angie, follow Shen and... and take the air support and check survivors." he said through the pain. "Apollo, aid with the relief efforts and..." Jack broke into a cold sweat and wiped his mouth off trying to get steadied. "Midnighter... go... check... HRRRUGUGHTH..." Hawksmoor's head dropped down again, the damage done to the city tearing through him.

Dr. Mid-Nite moved closer to the newly arrived group alongside Captain America, who stepped into view and moved up to speak with the rather disheveled looking Authority team leader.

"Jack..."

Hawksmoor composed himself and stood on both feet. "Captain... excuse my... condition." he said with great pain. "Metropolis is having seizures and he's scared of what might come next."

Mid-Nite looked at Hawksmoor and then back to the Captain. "Metropolis is a he? It's a city, cities aren't people."

Jack adjusted his shirt collar and opened it a bit to clear his throat. "Of course they're not. However, they have just the same sort of feelings, sensibilities and types of emotions that you and I do. Just his problems are on a bit of a wider scale than yours would be."

The Doctor lost interest in the conversation and began to wander around, searching the ground for something.

Mr. Terrific stepped forward and looked at the other groupings. "Given the present situation there's not much wider than this scale can get, Mr. Hawksmoor. Your team has come in time for the aid effort , through. If I can offer a suggestion?" Michael paused and waited for the go-ahead.

Captain America spoke up first. "Michael, if you have something, feel free to sha..."

"With all due respect, sir, I was talking to the Authority."

Jack and Midnighter shared a look before the latter spoke.

"Five gets you ten Cap would have dropped him in six steps."

Terrific gave him an up and down look, narrowing his eyes as a T-sphere circled around the grouping and then proceeded to follow the wayward Doctor, who followed its movements with his own head, then contemplated turning it into the proverbial bouncing white ball.

Hawksmoor spoke again, breaking the silence. "What we could do is load up the remaining survivors into the Carrier for a temporary fix, that way we can keep them apart from any aftershock that might... check that... will occur."

The Captain paused, then agreed. “That works... number one priority is getting the citizens away from the area, then the First Line deals with this... Zod." Hawksmoor cracked a slight smile “Depending on what sloppy seconds the Authority leaves, Captain... Speaking of Zod, where is he?" he asked.

The Captain turned upwards and looked at the moon hanging overhead, bright red and crimson bursts clearly visible from its surface. "They're up there... fighting to the death..."

Hawksmoor cracked a slight grin. "When Superman gets mad there's nothing that can stop him... Zod's not gonna get up..."

While the two heroes looked up, Terrific walked over to Midnighter and placed his hand on his shoulder.

Midnighter looked at the hand and then backed up at its owner. "Obviously you have something that needs to be field amputated..."

Terrific removed his hand and took a step back. "I'm just setting the record straight... four steps and he'd never see it coming."

Swift, The Engineer, and Powergirl attended to the refugees and those heading to the carrier. The former helped carry supplies from one end to the other, pulling the weight and giving some kind words to the needy and wounded.

Powergirl was directing traffic as others worked feverishly in the medical camps, trying to overcompensate in her own way for her self-perceived failure at the hands of Zod.

Angela Spica, the Engineer, was in a rather crabby mood as she directed six of her clones individually; one digging through the wreckage, another setting up a medical bay, and four others taking turns on a repair detail for General Lane's ship.

The setup clone snapped out “I can't believe this... As much shit as the Authority usually finds itself in, we beam in ready to kick balls all across Metropolis, but not only do we miss the action, we get stuck doing some kind of angel of mercy mission. Jesus, all I need is a white hat and a cross and I can be happy little nurse Spica, taking temperatures and passing out aspirins.”

Powergirl looked across and responded “To be honest, every bit is needed. Trust me, we took enough action for any of us. Although, if you're that much in need of something to do, you could have gotten here on time and gotten your fill of Zod. But then again, you wouldn't be the Authority if you weren't fashionably late to the party, now would you?”

All six of the Engineers stopped and looked across, rolling their collective eyes at the same time. “Perra Rubia Metiche." one muttered under her breath.

“Y tu Madre, Tambien...” Powergirl responded with a smile and a wave.

Swift moved over to Powergirl after this “Bear with Angie, she's been in a fierce mood for the past few hours. Jack won't say what his part in this will be, but, its not looking good. He always goes quiet when its something she wont like.”

Powergirl looked up and responded “Doesn't give her the right to be as rude and nasty though, does it?”

“No, but we're used to it. It's misguided caring. If she didn't have that, she wouldn't be our Angie.”

Jack Hawksmoor stepped into the Ground Zero area of the Daily Planet and extended his arms, sinking down into the support area of the building.

He was rather amazed by the technology in the foundations, a mix of early 20th century architecture, and the remains of alien type of enhancement. Metropolis was definitely its own city. The voice that it spoke to him with was one of wonderment, and child-like hope.

“Metropolis... wonder of the world... Marvel of the United States... show me your fears… your hurts...”

A tremor ripped through the crust as the Planet's metallic pieces lowered and surrounded Hawksmoor, forming a shell around his feet.

The tremor tore through the surface, sending the Engineer and the rest of her bodies on full alert. Angela sent her clones up in the air on full search mode.

“What in the shit was that? Somebody send a probe down there after Jack, now!”

Apollo flew over towards the area. “He's fine. Its nothing more than an aftershock that didn't even cause as much damage as we'd think. Angie, trust us, there's nothing going on.”

Engineer turned on a dime while in midair, and the silver liquid metal faded away from her face, showing the human side beneath it, which was mixing even amounts of anger and worry.

“If it was Midnighter down there, then maybe, just maybe, you'd be more concerned. But considering its somebody close to me instead and someone you don't really listen to anyway, I can understand that you just possibly don't give a shit, eh Apollo?”

Apollo's eyes flashed with a solar burn, then turned off before he spoke. “Moot point, Angie, Jack gave us all the briefing before we even set foot in Metropolis. We all know what we have to do and when we have to do it. Again, it will be fine.”

Apollo then cracked a slight smile. “And you know just as well as I do, Midnighter's only good for breaking things. Send him down there and you might as well drop Metropolis in the ocean.”

Engineer's face went back full metal. “Trust me, Apollo, I'm laughing on the inside... somewhere”

“Show me your marvels!"

Jack immediately started to see Metropolis from the city's point of view.

Suicide Slum

The World's Fair

The B13 upgrade

And its own Man of Steel protecting it time and time again as the mass of technology snaked itself around, forming a cocoon around him.

Before the tech completed itself around Jack's face and sent tendrils to the surface of the city, he arched his body and gave one final thought seconds before the aftershock ripped into the remains.

“Show me how to make you live again..."

And with that, all was calm.

...until 30 second afterward, when Hawksmoor didn't return to the surface. The top was silent before a loud wail tore through the air, followed by the sound of blasting and pounding, as a full construction team laid waste to the Daily Planet wreckage, trying to dig holes and find a way to bury into the mantle to retrieve the Authority's team leader.

The rest of the Authority and First Line all rushed to the area and found exactly what they thought they would. Each member of the construction team was identical to the next, each one a clone of the Engineer feverishly tearing into the ground.

Apollo lead the teams towards her “Angie, please... .he knows what he's doing!”

“Goddamit, Apollo, So do I!!!”

The Engineer turned to look at them, her eyes glowing bright silver, and gave a wave of her hand, sending up a force field that kept both groups away from her as one of the clones struck a hole, breaking it apart and sending in the entire grouping.

The entire search team dug down 100 feet into the building's foundation, and then turned immediately into inspection tools, flashing lights, and continuing to tear away at the Earth in search of Hawksmoor.

The host Engineer finally dropped down along with her clones, digging hard with her own hands as well as the mass of tech all around her... until the grouping came upon something that stopped them all in their tracks.

The new heart of Metropolis... .Jack Hawksmoor.

Angela Spica stood still, tilted her head and just observed, not sure what to do at the moment, unsure of what to think, unsure of just what she was looking at.

The Engineer side of her, however, took over and sent two metallic arms towards the object in front of them.

She watched, her mind not comprehending just what it was before her, it looked like a beating coronary, an apple shaped object with what could easily be considered veins and arteries extending from it and reaching up to the former Daily Planet building, and across the bottom level of Metropolis itself. Oddly enough, the object seemed to convulse every few seconds, as if beating and piping a lifeblood to the city.

Scanning apparent nerve center of the city. Scanning, scanning . . . nerve center bioscan reveals positive match.

Match = Jack Hawksmoor. Awaiting further instructions. . .

Angie's mind finally kicked in, overriding the Engineer enhancement in herself with a wave of emotion, which erupted in a heart rending scream that echoed through the entire cavern area.

The scream began to magnify in its pitch and intensity by being reflected by each and every single one of her clones. All of them dropped to their knees collectively, clutching at their hair and tearing at the silver sheath surrounding them.

Each clone mimicked the other's actions, save for the one in the middle, whose silver lining had retracted from its own face, giving off the last of Spica's all too human emotions, her own tears...

Continuity Note: This takes place between the Prologue and Chapter I of Justice League Earth #9.

The Sea of Tranquility, Selene...

The stillness of space reigned supreme on the surface of the moon. For the untrained eye such stillness might seem boring, specially compared to similar sights one could experience on Earth at places like the Grand Canyon where the wind would make even the dullest of rocks look alive with the movement of dirt and sand.

To those that know better, however, such stillness is anything but as even the void of space of a place like the sea of tranquility can offer sights one could never experience on Earth.

That's one of the many reasons why J'Onn J'Onzz -- the Martian Manhunter -- decided to spend a well earned rest on the Moon before the rest of the team left for the planet Rann.

Under the shadow of the JLE Watchtower, J'Onn hovered in place over an open crater, his body in a deep state of meditation.

Suddenly the peace that the void provided was shattered by a bright flash of light coming from the center of the sea of tranquility. J'Onn snapped out of his slumber and hovered towards the flash of light to investigate.

Upon arriving on the sea of tranquility he noticed a large, cylinder-shaped silver object embedded into the rock.

Strange. he thought as he moved closer, his hand stretched out. As J'Onn moved closer the object quickly rose off the ground and opened up, letting out a burst of multicolored energy that enveloped the space over the moon.

In seconds where there was nothing now hovered a giant wormhole which gravity field begun to pull the lose dirt and sand at J'Onn's feet into it as it did him.

The Martian Manhunter tried to fight it but it was no use and in seconds he was pulled into the energy field that made up the giant wormhole.

Before being completely sucked in, however, he managed to let out a telepathic scream that traveled all the way back to Earth...

By Michael Sacal & Aaron Thall

An emerald beam of light traveled from the Earth to the moon in the blink of an eye. Upon arriving on the surface of Selene the beam stood revealed to be an emerald sphere that hovered like a soap bubble into place right below the edge of the wormhole.

The sphere popped open and the six members of the Justice League Earth -- Aegis, Wonder Woman, Superman, Aspen, Warbird and Jade -- stood in place on the surface of the moon.

Aspen stood close by to Jade, who had created a protective bubble around her. The young woman look up at the Earth hovering over her head, an expression of shock and wonder on her face as this had been her first time off planet.

"...wow..." she exclaimed in a whisper that only she could hear.

"Search for J'Onn!" Superman's voice was heard by all thanks to a link provided by Jade's ring.

"Look!!" Warbird pointed up at the center of the wormhole. The others looked up and saw J'Onn's head popping out from it.

Superman pointed at Warbird and Jade and signaled them to fly upwards. Jade rose off the ground and Aspen instinctively signaled her to come back down out of fear that her moving away might pop the sphere around her.

"Don't worry, it'll be ok!" Jade said with a wink and a smile as she took off after Warbird. Aspen stood alone on the surface of the moon, nervously rubbing her arms up and down.

Superman and Wonder Woman followed them while Aegis, the man known as Tony Stark, ran computer calculations from within the safety of his armor.

"Get me an energy output reading and a density chart, now!" he shouted at M.A.R.I.A., his onboard artificial intelligence computer integrated into his wrist watch.

A second later holograms detailing the asked for schematics appeared besides Tony's face.

Outside Warbird and Jade reached the upper edge of the ever-expanding wormhole.

"You open it up, I'll pull him out!" Carol Danvers, the blonde bombshell known as Warbird, told Jade who fired a beam of energy at J'Onn which became a pair of giant spoons that slid gently next to him and then expanded outward in an effort to open the wormhole up.

Warbird swooped down and grabbed hold of J'Onn. "I'm gonna get you out of here, don't worry!!" Warbird pulled J'Onn who let out a loud scream that got lost in the emptiness of space.

Warbird could see the look on J'Onn's face, however, so she stopped pulling. She got angered and, as she flew away from J'Onn, she fired a pair of energy blasts at the wormhole.

"No, don't!!" Tony yelled but it was too late, the wormhole absorbed Warbird's blasts and doubled in sized which made it as big as the moon.

"Oh oh..." Warbird said with a dumbfounded look on her face.

"We need to contain it, fast!" Superman and Wonder Woman flew alongside the circumference of the wormhole, looking for any way to latch on to it but found none.

Jade looked down at J'Onn, who seemed to be in extreme pain. She removed the spoons at his side and the look of pain on his face vanished, replaced with one of slight comfort. This puzzled Jade who flew dow to be at eye level with J'Onn.

She reached out and grabbed J'Onn's chin to raise his head and the two made eye contact. Suddenly a sea of images bombarded Jade's mind as she and J'Onn became one in a metaphysical sense.

"...this is a living creature..." Jade said in J'Onn's voice, which could be heard by all. "...do not harm her... set her free!!" and with that the link was broken.

Warbird, Superman and Wonder Woman flew alongside Jade and the four of them looked at J'Onn, a perplexed look on their face.

"Her?" Wonder Woman asked rhetorically while looking at the water-like surface of the wormhole.

The surface changed to show the same kind of images that Jade saw. One of those images overlapped over the others. The image showed a fierce battle between an army of Parademons from Apokolips and an army of DoomBots under the command of Doctor Victor Von Doom.

This image was replaced by another random image but even though it didn't last long it did leave a mark on the heroes.

Suddenly J'Onn awoke, his eyes wide open, and he let out a massive telepathic mind meld that linked all of the heroes together like a chain.

Warbird and Jade, both in a zombie-like state, moved closer to the wormhole while Superman and Wonder Woman moved away.

Warbird fired her energy blasts at the wormhole, which helped it grow in size, while Jade enveloped the wormhole around an ever-growing emerald circle.

The circle began to spin ever faster as the wormhole kept growing. In seconds the spinning motion was so fast that the wormhole began to vanish from sight, as if it was moving faster than the eye could see.

Slowly, within the eye of the wormhole, J'Onn slid from its grasp and in an automated state like that of the women he hovered out of harms way.

Warbird and Jade moved away from the wormhole, both of them keeping their energy output going. The circle grew in diameter, two covers extending out from it to enclose the wormhole which was now completely out of sight.

The heroes landed next to Aegis and Aspen, the latter of which stared in amazement at the moon-sized emerald oval before her.

Suddenly the circle exploded in a blinding flash of light that was seen from every place on Earth and then it was gone, along with the circle.

The members of the JLE recovered their senses and then looked at each other, the same question in their mind.

"What... happened?" Jade asked, confused.

"She needed our help going back to her reality..." J'Onn said in a clam, stoic tone. "Using Warbird's and Jade's help she was able to reach the proper vibrational note to be in tune with it."

"But why grow in size?" Warbird wondered.

"Size is relative... to use she looked like a giant, but to the beings of her reality she'll be nothing but a baby." J'Onn replied while looking at the stars above them.

"Oh..." Warbird replied even though she didn't understand.

"We have bigger things to worry about..." Superman said followed by a smile after he realized what he had said. "Pardon the pun. After we come back from Rann we have to deal with that vision we saw... I have a bad feeling about it. I have a hunch that it'll require each and every one of us to stop it."

To Be Continued...

By Dawn Byrnes

United Nations HQ, New York, 2002

“SkyWatch Two, can you hear me? SkyWatch Two, can you hear me? This is UN Executive Three speaking.”

Cool, precise and calm. Perfectly modulated. Despite the inexplicable loss of contact with the United Nations’ orbital space-platform SkyWatch Two, her voice had to sound like she was in control of the situation. It was necessary in order to stop the StormWatch ground staff from panicking as they attempted to re-establish contact with their space-dwelling colleagues. But it wasn’t working. Already, some of the more excitable scientists and technicians were making dire predictions of alien invaders and space-borne viruses. She had sent them to the medical lab, but rumours were starting to leak out. What was going on? Why wasn’t the Weatherman answering her calls?

An alarm went off as a flare of light on a monitor caught the corner of her eye. The tall Asian woman turned to face the staffer who manned that work-station, her dark blue eyes widening as she observed the image on the screen. An escape-pod bearing the stylised eye within a teardrop logo of StormWatch had plunged into a building in Manhattan – not too far from where she now stood. Of course, as she was currently underground, it was no wonder she didn’t hear the impact. One of the staffers began to pray in Spanish, but she didn’t have that luxury.

She barked out orders over a secured communications line, detailing troops, medics and scientists to the scene. Her voice had gained a sense of urgency, but it still remained cool and precise. She was a precise woman. Confidence was everything in her line of work, even more so than competence. Lives were riding on her every decision, and she couldn’t fall apart now.

Her orders were obeyed immediately. She was a member of the United Nations Executive Council unofficially, and the liaison between StormWatch and the Security Council officially. Daughter of a Chinese general who defected to Taiwan, she was well acquainted with military matters. Unfortunately she was less skilled at them, or she would have known what to do after giving those commands. All she could do was follow procedures and hope for the best.

Time passed. She counselled herself to calm and confidence, projecting the aura throughout the room to keep the staff on their tasks. Being a projective empath meant that every emotion she felt, or wanted to mimic, she could shove down a person’s throat if she so chose. That ability was never more important than now. If only she was as confident about her abilities to handle this crisis as she projected. For a moment, she paused, looking down at a sheaf of papers in her hand. It was a list of reservists who were being considered for greater training into field officers. She had come to this communications room in order to discuss it with Jackson King, the Weatherman, director and commanding officer of StormWatch, the UN’s superhuman special crisis team.

It seemed like she would have to gather them for another purpose.

“Call these people,” she ordered to a passing staffer. “Tell them…”

“Tell them what, ma’am?”

“Tell them to be ready for anything.”

“Dad, dad, dad, dad!”

Nomad regretted the day he’d taught his chirrin how to speak as the little baby Daemonites followed him around, calling out “Dad!” every few seconds. They were tenacious little beasts, especially the eldest Pretty, but he didn’t know how he was going to raise them without their mother Starmark, who had died in a purge of his hive by so-called Lord Helspoint.

He lashed his tail briefly, catching his only son Diver on the snout. The blocky, two-legged lizard winced and hissed imprecations at Nomad. Where Pretty had a talent for learning the more intelligent aspects of the Daemonite and English languages, Diver excelled at learning the not-so-polite words.

“Enough!” he snarled in their native language and the little ones fell quiet, their dark eyes wide with fear. Once their shrieking was gone, he heard the ring of his telephone. With a sigh, he morphed from his natural purple lizard-like form into the massive, bronze-skinned human form bequeathed to him by his half-Daemonite mother, who had possessed Navajo blood. Perhaps that was why he loved deserts so much…

“Hello,” the handsome, green-eyed man answered the phone in a rich basso voice. Anyone in the professional skateboarding world would have recognised him as Danny Shadowmoon, a world champion before he retired at the age of twenty-four. He’d had to quit after keeping human form had gotten too hard. Then he had met Starmark…

“This is Yin Cheui Qan, the United Nations Security Council liaison to StormWatch,” a cool, professional-sounding female voice replied. “We need you in New York, Nomad – pronto.”

“Dad?” Pretty asked, her snout quivering as she noticed the expression on his face.

“Rock!” he yelled, and a young Daemonite came scampering out of the hive.

“Yeah?”

“Take the kids. Something’s happening in New York an’ this could be our chance with the UN.” Danny shifted back and leant down to rub snouts with his children. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Dad! Stay!” Pretty shrieked as the Daemonite requested transfer in his usual snarling tone. It was time to reveal the truth to the world – for the sake of his children.

“Can’t, Pretty. Gotta save the world.”

Regan Maclachlan bowed to the woman who stood on the other side of the practice ring, still lithe and limber despite her advanced age. Lady Shiva Wu-Shan was a fighter who just surpassed the failed Coda in martial arts, all the more remarkable for her brief lifespan compared to Regan’s own eight hundred or so years. It had been an educational few weeks for the Scotswoman, but she had to return to her duties and son now that university had ended for the year. “Thank ye, Lady Shiva,” she said with a final bow. “I enjoyed these past few weeks.”

“Not many would say so,” the ancient Asian woman replied with a thin smile. “It was good to meet you, Witch of Glenrowan.”

“And ye. I apologise for the hasty departure, but when the UN calls…”

“You start running.” Shiva finished the sentence smoothly. Regan’s connections to the UN were well known, especially since her days in the Catchers. “Be well, Hypatia of the Coda.”

Regan bowed again in silent gratitude at the high compliment Shiva had paid her, calling her by her Coda name, before pressing her fetish and calling for transfer. When the teleportation field cleared, she was in the underground emergency bunker that served StormWatch as a secondary base in times of crisis. Yin Cheui Qan stood there, her expression showing rare agitation, while a motley cluster of superhumans waited behind her. She sighed as she recognised Nomad, Alacrity and Rusalka, talented reservists without the training they needed. “What is it?” she snapped, not bothering to hide her anger at being summoned. It had been a few good quiet years, all of which she had enjoyed.

“We’ve lost contact with SkyWatch and an escape-pod carrying two officers and ten staffers crashed into Manhattan.” Yin’s voice was rigidly controlled, but Regan could sense her concern. “SkyWatch has been over-run by aliens with acid for blood and spit.”

Hypatia swore furiously. “Bloody hell, any survivors?”

“We think some survivors managed to barricade themselves in a training room near the Cold Penitentiary.” At that, Hypatia swore again and ran her gaze over the operatives. She knew why she had been summoned – to lead the rescue mission.

Nomad, a powerfully built purple Daemonite with strength to match her old friend Majestros and a nasty bite, stood next to the slender, grey-skinned Alacrity, people who had no business being here because they were both single parents. But his brute muscle and her speed would be necessary on this mission. A big black woman with fresh bandages on her body and what promised to be a nasty set of acid scars was flanked by buxom, blue-skinned Rusalka and lean, grey-haired Solomon, StormWatch’s resident tennis sex symbol and embittered techno-genius respectively.

“I can’t believe we have some of these… people,” the black woman said, eyes flickering uncertainly to Danny, who gave her a very human wink in return. “Weatherman and Synergy never mentioned you guys.”

"’Tis why we’re reservists,” Regan replied bluntly. “I take it ye’re our guide, Flint?”

“Yes.” Flint’s voice was bitter as she looked in the direction of the medical lab. “My team leader had half his arm chewed off and the rest are dead. I’m the only one left.”

“Ye get used tae that after a while,” Hypatia said with a touch of sympathy. “Let’s save who we can, hey?”

“And who the hell are you?” Nomad winced and Alacrity’s lips thinned at Victoria Ngengi’s tone. “I wouldn’t know you from a bar of soap!”

“Regan Maclachlan at yer service. Failed Coda, Scottish hedge-witch and Kherubim half-blood turned into United Nations spy.” The slight woman tossed back tawny-streaked white hair. “Tell us what ye ken, and make it snappy.”

Flint complied with Regan’s order, describing the aliens in as much detail as she could. Apart from the acid blood and jaw-breaking, gut-busting possessions, they seemed to be like cockroaches crossbred with Daemonites. When Alacrity made the comparison, Nomad’s tail lashed briefly as he shook his head. “This ain’t good,” he said with a whistling sigh. “If those things’re bigger than me…”

“They are.” Flint glanced at Hypatia, who spread her hands and shrugged slightly. “Whatever you do, don’t open your mouths around them. One got into Fairenheit that way and it became a fire-controller…” Her voice broke and she wiped tears from her eyes.

“Brilliant,” Rusalka added flatly. “Hypatia, I’m useless up there.”

“Not necessarily,” Alacrity disagreed. “I mean, can’t you suck out the moisture in their bodies or something?”

Rusalka nodded slowly. “I might be able to…”

“Quit the chatter, bairns.” Hypatia cut through their discussion. “Lock an’ load, people. We’ve got lives tae save.”

They headed to the transfer bay, Yin pulling aside Regan briefly for a moment. “If I don’t hear from you in twelve hours, I’m nuking the place,” was her blunt statement. The little hedge-witch nodded and the team got into the transfer bay after Yin had disabled the Storm Door codes. As the teleportation field crackled about them, the Taiwanese diplomat swore she could hear a murmured prayer.

Skywatch

“Not good, not good at all!” Alacrity yelled as she blurred into motion, running along a hallway at Mach Five speed, the vacuum left in her wake damaging the aliens who chased her in vain. She smashed through one in front of her; Kevlar-laced skin hardening to something that even acid couldn’t penetrate. Keeping the speed constant was hard, as she had to anticipate corners – smashing through a wall on Skywatch could easily lead to her becoming freeze-dried, which would do her little Rowie no good.

Rusalka strode at a safe distance behind her, desiccating anything she came across. It had been discovered that Nomad could scent the aliens inside a possessed person after one poor staffer had attacked them. Since he was at the other end of Skywatch at the moment, she couldn’t afford to be nice. If it was outside the training room and not one of the team, it got killed.

“Oh, hell!” Alacrity’s cry of horror made the Russian woman start running. She burst into Watch Hall, the hub of Skywatch, and retched. Nomad and Flint appeared at the other side, while Hypatia and Solomon were already there, faces ashen from shock

The aliens had turned the room into an abattoir, bodies of slaughtered staffers dangling from the walls and catwalks to drip blood across the monitors. Jackson King, the Weatherman, was clinging to a control panel, blood leaking from his side. Nomad, a little more used to carnage than most due to his Daemonite heritage, walked over and sniffed the bald black man cautiously, then nodded. “He’s clean,” he rasped, and King’s eyes focused on the fetish that was attached to a collar around his neck.

“Reservists…” he gasped as Flint moved to his side. Jackson King swallowed, his eyes bottomless black pits from pain and fatigue, and looked up at her bandaged countenance. “Storm…Door…down.”

“We ken,” Hypatia replied, stepping forward to lay a hand on his shoulder and look deep into his eyes. King swallowed again, his expression easing a little.

<I cannae save ye.>

<I know. Can you block the pain? These things have to be destroyed.>

<Aye.> Regan concentrated briefly, the scent of fresh grass and flowers drifting about her. The Weatherman sighed, looking up at Flint again.

“Synergy’s dead, Vicky. The survivors are still in the Icebox. Get them out.”

“What about you?”

“I’m flying Skywatch into the sun. We have to stop those things.”

“But – “

“No buts, Flint. That’s an order.”

Flint stepped back, acceding reluctantly. Solomon keyed the controls of Skywatch to the panel King was leaning against, and then turned to the rest of the team. “Let’s go,” he grated. “Get these people off and get out of here.”

Hypatia and Flint were the last to leave Watch Hall. The former performed a Coda bow of respect to Jackson King and the latter saluted him before running out to the sound of the nuclear cascade being activated.

The sound of gunfire echoed across the empty Cold Penitentiary, where some of the worst beings in the world were kept, as the rescue team fought its way to the training room to save the remaining staffers. Hypatia had chosen to leave her customary energy-crossbows behind and rely on laser rifles, while Solomon had dragged enough weapons on board to start World War Three. Everyone, even Nomad and Flint, used guns to blast their way through. It was necessary, as they only had fifteen minutes to get off before the cascade started and the engines were fired.

This was the place the aliens had turned into the massive hatching chamber. Bodies were dangled everywhere and the floor was literally awash in blood. Each creature they encountered was more fearsome than the next, but they had to keep on going. Lives depended on them.

With five minutes to go, Hypatia turned to Solomon. “Can ye get the transfer bay working from here?” The Israeli’s eyes went blank as he projected his consciousness through the computer network and then he began to swear vociferously. “The bay’s down,” he said tersely. “No way am I going to fix it in five minutes.”

Regan had a terrible decision to make. She could teleport two or three people down with her to Glenrowan, her personal base, but it only worked one way. There was a teleporter who could get up here and back, yet she was barely six years old… “Nomad, Flint, Rusalka! Get to the survivors!” she barked before turning to Alacrity and relating what Solomon had found out.

The young woman nodded grimly and replied, “It isn’t as if she’s not used to gore, Regan. Besides, couldn’t you blur her mind or something?”

Hypatia nodded and pressed her teleportation stud to vanish. A few heartbeats later, pink spheres burst into being, bringing Hypatia and a little girl who was an exact copy of Alacrity, down to the red hair and grey, black-tattooed skin. “Get close, everybody,” she commanded, holding the child close. “This is Bubbles, Alacrity’s daughter and our ticket out of here.”

“You brought a child up here?” Solomon asked, and was rewarded by a scathing look from Alacrity.

“My daughter was born amongst the Morlocks,” she snapped. “Do you reckon she’s had a chance to be a kid?”

“Lucia, calm down,” Regan ordered as the other two huddled close. A heartbeat later they vanished, just as a new wave of aliens arrived on the scene.

In the end, they just made it back to Earth. Skywatch flew into the Sun, leaving behind only a remnant of its former staffers and superhuman officers. Bubbles – Rowena O’ Brienn – lay sleeping in her mother’s arms, her mind cleansed of whatever she might have seen. Hypatia was a mother herself, and she couldn’t let the girl she considered her granddaughter suffer from nightmares…

Even if the rest of them would have trouble sleeping for a long while yet.

StormWatch was closed down. The UN didn’t have the money to keep it going. But Yin was able to secure a shoestring budget for a team along the lines of the old StormForce to handle small things like hostage taking or security work. It was a bitter pill to swallow for the Taiwanese woman, who knew she had lost a lot of face over this matter, especially for her slow reaction to the crisis. But the UN Executive Council couldn’t admit failure, not publicly, so she retained her position on the Council.

Hypatia was removed from fieldwork at her own request, leaving the team leader’s position open. Flint was given it as the only surviving and active member of StormWatch remaining, Winter having retired and gone back to Russia. But Rusalka handled field command, having scored well on the tactical and strategic tests, and she led Nomad, Solomon and two other reservists known as Huntress and Falconer on several missions as StormForce. In time, auxiliary members in the form of Scout, Tantric and Alacrity were added to the team, while Strafe, Jackson King’s younger brother, Hypatia and two youngsters named Mocha and Avi Barak handled the civilian side of things under Yin’s supervision.

This continued until a group of elemental beings attacked an Australian mine…

Author's Notes

Disclaimer: StormWatch belongs to Wildstorm, the Aliens comics belong to Dark Horse, and Lady Shiva belongs to DC; all are being used without permission. The plot and some characters are original.

This is the back-history to some of the events mentioned in my StormWatch fan-fiction series. I confess that I have taken some liberty with the timeline, but that was to fit it into the Omniverse, and that I never included the WildC.A.T.s at all – I never liked that crossover, mostly because it killed one of my favourite teams and definitely the coolest Russian superhero around.

I hope you like my original characters. Feel free to send constructive criticism.

By Conner "J" Kent

You find yourself transversing terrain without touching it as if you are flying. You pass through a patch of clouds and a mountain is revealed, you know this mountain, it is the home of the Greek Gods, it is Mount Olympus.

You now enter a room filled with spools of the most radiant and almost glowing yarn. In the middle of the room on a loom lays a tapestry that is not yet finished. Your attention is then drawn to the flash of three bright lights.

Three figures stand before you and speak in unison, "We three are the Fates. We appear in many forms, to some we are hags, while others we are Goddesses, all are true, for we are as you perceive us to be."

"Today we come to you in our role as the keepers of Fate, so that we may share with you the true origin of two great heroes, whose names will be remembered always."

The Fates draw your attention to the tapestry on the loom, and the tapestry becomes translucent and a image appears on it.

Helena Sandsmark stands in front of her bed removing her shoes and her clothing after a hard day at work. Then from behind her a figure emerges from the shadows. It is a man, he walks up to Helena and begins to massage her shoulders which startles her. She turns around and the smile on her face lets you know of her familiarity with the mystery man.

She begins to ask him questions, "How did you get here? You just left, I thought you were busy and wouldn't be in town for another two months."

"Shhhh," the man said kissing Helena, as he resumed his sensual message.

Helena becomes putty in his hands and the two spend what seems like an eternity making love. When the bliss ends Helena is left there sleeping, basking in the afterglow of their passion, her suitor sleeks away leaving a note and a something very special behind.

The figure arrives in a room where weapons of all kinds adorn the walls and he looks into the mirror as a vision of Helena sits at her vanity reading his note. The mirror changes back to a normal mirror and we see the man standing before it, then a crimson light washes over him and his true face is revealed... he is Ares, the Greek God of War.

A few weeks pass and Helena arrives home with a few small bags and from one she pulls out a Pregnancy Test and heads off to the bathroom.

When she returns she sees that there is a message on her machine and hits play. A familiar voice is heard, the voice of her lover, Frank Scott she walks into the bathroom as he speaks, "Helena, I'm sorry to let you know like this, but I met someone new, and she is my soul mate, please understand and move on. Thanks Helena."

Helena walks back into her room with her test in her hands, the tears in her eyes are a mix of heart break from Frank, and joy from the positive results, she is going to have a baby.

Nine months later Ares stands looking through his mirror as Helena gives birth, to her daughter. Helena holds her daughter in her arms as tears of joy and love stream down her face and she gives her daughter her name, Cassandra Elizabeth Sandsmark.

Ares stands there disappointed by the fact that his child was not a male. But he is not alone, someone watches the watcher, Zeus King of the Gods appears and announces himself to his son, "Ares, you will not toy with the affections of mortal woman."

"Why not? After all I am your son, or does Hercules not ring a bell," Ares asked.

"You will not manipulate mortals and that is final. Your daughter's powers will be bound by me, and only I shall be able to give them back, if I see fit," Zeus roared as he disappeared in a bolt of lightning.

The scene changes again and this time you witness an epic battle, a battle where Earth's mightiest champion Superman falls saving his adopted home from Doomsday.

Then the scene changes again and we are now in a lab within Project Cadmus. Within this lab the hope for tomorrow lies in the hands of scientist who attempt to be Gods with their Project Man Of Tomorrow, a project that is attempting to clone Superman.

But not even Cadmus Director Westfield knew what was going on in the deepest shadows of Cadmus.

"Packard, is everything set for our project?" a voice said from the shadows startling Packard.

"Mr. Luthor sorry, you surprised me Sir. Yes all I need is the DNA," Packard said to Lex Luthor as he emerged from the shadows.

Luthor handed Packard a vile and reminded him of their project parameters, "Remember, no one is to know about Project Superboy."

"Yes Sir, but why do you want a Superboy? I mean, with Superman gone now, you could control your very own man of steel," Packard inquired.

"Fool. Were you born yesterday? Heroes never die for long, trust me," Luthor said as he re-entered the shadows.

"Mr. Luthor, who's DNA is this," Packard asked?

Lex continued to walk turning his head slightly as he answered, "Just someone close to me, very close."

Lex left Cadmus as Packard began Project Superboy without Westfield's knowledge. He worked covertly behind Westfield's back to ensure that Clone #13 was different than the rest and to his surprise the combination of Kryptonian and Human DNA were a perfect match, they succeeded where the other's failed, and Westfield had no idea that his work was not responsible for it.

Westfield stood there looking at what he assumed was his creation, his altered DNA. All of the test and read outs were falsified secretly by Packard to cover up his independent project, which was the true success.

"Packard, this is Luthor, are the memory implants completed?" Luthor asked from the other end of the phone.

"Yes Mr. Luthor. But Westfield wants to implant control codes in him," Packard informed Luthor.

"Don't let him do that," Luthor ordered.

"I could implant your codes so you could have complete control over him," Packard offered.

"No, I don't want a mindless slave, I want him to follow me of his own free will. Let some of those annoying little brats of Cadmus overhear Westfield's plans and see to it that they break him free," Luthor finished as he hung up the phone.

His orders were carried out and Superboy was freed by the Newsboy Legion, and as Luthor said Superman did not remain dead for long, and Luthor's plan was set in motion, to hit his arch nemesis from within.

"These are the true origins of these brave young heroes," The Fates stated. "Now you know of their true beginnings, and soon so shall they."

The Fates disappear again in a flash of colored lights and you are returned to where you began this journey, and you are left with the knowledge. So say the Fates.

Author's Notes

I wanted #0 to be a springboard for an upcoming plot that would have Cassie and Conner finding out their true origins, and picking up the Ares storyline from the second issue.

I decided who better to fill you in on the secrets of their origins than the Fates. Then I had to decided how to use them and throughout the different Mythos the Fates have had many guises, which made me decide to use that and have it be that they are everyone of them, because they appear as you see them. Some may see a hag, others a Goddess, while others may see animals or three sets of eyes in the sky.

I hope everyone enjoys this issue. I'm going to hold issue #5 for another week or so, this way one doesn't overshadow the other.