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#5
OCT 11 |
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Amongst the echelons and hierarchies of the Gods of New Genesis, Telkis was a minor deity. For centuries he had provided his fellow gods with innovative music and exotic dance, structuring epic showcases that were never as awe-inspiring or ambitious as he would have hoped. His fictional songs of wonder and godhood failed to near the drama that Telkis currently faced.
The blood that coated his beige smock was not his own; he had trouble discerning the events that had brought him into the situation. He had often tried to sing of life without the abilities ingrained within the gods; this would make a great song. He had been able to fly for his entire immortality so it was quite an experience to now be deprived of the ability, especially when he needed it most. He felt gravity for the first time as he plummeted, too enthralled with inspiration and convinced of his own godhood to conceive of panic. He saw Lightray fall past him in the sky, a bloodied mess, leaking sunshine instead of blood.
He ignored the incessant blipping of his Mother Box as he fell through a cloud. His mind raced with a potential melody and lyrics that were sure to impress the Highfather. He had forgotten that the Highfather was dead. He thought to incorporate the sound of the rushing winds in his ears into a new musical invention. He hummed in his mind as he saw his old friend Specia, his former muse and one time lover, smash into an earth-made metal air device. The metal plane buckled and exploded upon impact in a blaze of fire and destruction. He wanted to watch it as it plunged to the planet below but he was moving too fast. Still, it would make quite a song.
As he fell, faster than he had ever flown before, Telkis was ready to take New Genesis by storm with his new ideas. He hit the ground and was destroyed without realizing that he was in danger; his songs and dances dead within his mind. His Mother Box ignited in pain as it forcefully broke the barriers of comprehension, exploding into a wormhole of devastation. The land that was now Telkis’ grave was wiped from existence as the New Gods rained from the sky, exploding upon impact and destroying the face of Earth as we know it.
Ashley Halberstam had just returned to his home in rural Belgium when it began raining New Gods. As an archeologist of the weird and cultivator of hidden knowledge, he was compelled to investigate. Ever since he had used his final wish upon the mystic Monkey’s Paw, he had been searching for the next huge discovery.
The blasts rung out throughout the entire surface of the planet as Halberstam watched, running into the crater that had once been a farmer’s market. He climbed down the rubble to attend to the dying New God at its center. As he approached, he began to lose his hair. Dumbstruck with curiosity, Halberstam knelt beside the dying god.
“What are you?” he asked, noting the curious man’s remarkable perfection. Halberstam was filled with a pulsating sense of purity as he held the man.
“We are dying,” the god spoke as he handed a rectangular device to the archaeologist.
“Obviously,” Halberstam grinned as he took the beeping device.
He was unable to ascertain the origins of the fallen god before he exploded into pure Source Energy. The blast stretched at the speed of light into oblivion before it wrapped into itself, creating a devastating physical impossibility. The laws of physics held beyond the call of duty and forced the aberrant energies out of existence. In the wake, miles of Belgium were forced away. This was happening all over the planet.
As the world was cratered with pock marks, Ashley Halberstam rose from the impossible devastation, enlightened with the ideas within the rectangular box. He smiled, showing golden teeth as he admired his hairless golden body. It seemed he had found the next huge discovery.
Gerri Brauer and Valerie Kameya, Donner and Blitzen respectively, veteran covert operatives of the centuries old Shadow Cabinet, had barely arrived amidst the completely annihilated Paris Island before the Rain of the New Gods. After confirming that the radiation within the city was not physically present but rather a mystical representation, the lovers had rushed around the island in a desperate search for survivors.
When the Spectre exploded, torn from reality by a greater force, Paris Island was obliterated. No building remained standing, seemingly no man left alive. The remainder of the Shadow Cabinet had fled, finally using Paris Island’s destruction and what was assumed to have happened to their leader, Dharma, the others were jumping at the chance to be free of the Shadow Cabinet.
After hours of searching, aided by Blitzen’s super speed and Donner’s enhanced strength and endurance, they finally came upon a survivor. The gangster known as Fade, late of the Blood Syndicate, was an apparition of a man before the attack. The explosion had left his mind as ethereal as his body. He sat alone in a field of green dust, crying ghost tears.
Blitzen knelt next to the poor man and attempted to put her hand on his shoulder until she recalled that he was a phantom, barely corporeal. “Fade,” she prompted, hoping to garner a response. Fade sobbed as he stared into the ground. She asked several times, desperately trying to rouse the man from his catatonia to no avail. With deep regret, she gave up, leaving the lost soul to be lost.
As she moved away she heard Donner yell from the distance, a panicked shout of urgency. Before the sound of Donner’s voice could produce an echo, Blitzen was at her side. They faced a gravely injured and delirious Dharma, stumbling and shambling through the wasteland.
Donner stood transfixed, terrified of the man as he shuffled toward them. He coughed blood from his tongueless mouth as he tried to speak. Blitzen moved to aid him without thinking. Dharma struck her, defying her inhuman speed. She fell to the ground, knowing that approaching a precog of his caliber was a terrible idea. Donner shouted her protests as she rushed to aid Blitzen back to her feet as Dharma tried to warn them.
“Spuhuh nuh husth…” Dharma slobbered, the blood from his mouth infected with pus. He gestured to himself, patting his chest to try to convey his point. “Uhhth muh.”
“The Spectre needs a host?” Blitzen translated as Donner gazed at her, amazed that her lover could understand the words. “And you think it’s going to be you?”
“The Spectre’s dead?” Donner asked, suddenly made aware of the reasons behind the destruction of Paris Island.
Dharma looked to the sky and howled, gurgling the fluids in his mouth and throat until he gagged on his own blood. Blitzen assumed that he had been doing such since the event of the destruction. Dharma continued to shout and cry until he collapsed to his knees in despair. Donner glanced at Blitzen, communicating without words, as Donner knew what needed to be done with the husk of the man they once knew.
Donner brought her fists together upon the sides of Dharma’s head, ending his life as quickly as she was capable. Blitzen shed a tear at the loss of a once great man.
As if on cue, it started raining New Gods.
Leonard Ayeros, despite being thousands of years old, was forever within the grasp of his maniacal mother. After centuries, she had returned and called upon his services. He and his brother, the serpent Botis, had been forced to New Genesis, a planet of gods hidden beyond the perceptions of reality, to destroy all that the gods had built. To destroy all that is.
He was a clockmaker by trade, spending the last four hundred years building and repairing various time pieces for regular people, whom he had learned to live amongst. Now, Lilith the Demon Mother was forcing him to use his penchant for fine machinery to concoct and operate an unbearably inhuman device.
As the alien bounty hunter known as Lobo had procreated with his mother, it produced an indescribably ghastly hybrid. These progeny of the Demon Mother were set loose unto New Genesis and the results were horrid and, with every drop of the hybrid’s blood, there was produced yet another monstrous variation. Using Lobo the Czarnian’s inborn ability to create spontaneous reproductions with his blood was enabling Lilith to easily set New Genesis into the state of genocide.
He cringed as his mother laughed. The entire face of the planet of gods was flowing with the blood of its citizens. There was soon to be no god left standing; they were all sent to Leonard Ayperos for their further function in his mother’s reign of terror.
Somehow Leonard understood the inner workings of the Mother Box and was forced to take the peace-loving gods and turn them into weapons against the people of Earth. With a simple deviation of their primary operating matrix, Leonard turned each New God into a living bomb. Once accomplished, Botis would slither them into the open Boom Tube and release them into the upper atmosphere of Earth, where they would plummet and explode upon contact with the planet.
He had modified almost five hundred thousand of these New Gods and shuddered to think of the damage that he was causing to his beloved Earth, his home despite being the offspring of such a terrible mother.
A downpour of brick and mortar showered Mera with dust and debris as she contemplated her next move. The disengaged head of Plastic Man melted at her feet as she learned that what was left of the Justice League had been present for the explosion that consumed the nearby lighthouse. The neophyte sorceress known as Black Alice, the living spirit called the Secret and the living receptacle of the Anti-Life Equation, Vince Kennedy, urged her to fight her instincts and follow their lead.
“No time for that now, Mera,” Secret advocated as she came between the Sea Queen and the burning rubble of the lighthouse. “It won’t be just Plastic Man if we don’t get to Apokolips.”
Mera was weary of handing her fate into the hands of such young air breathers so she needed some coercion. “Explain again,” she demanded as she paced through the immaterial body of the Secret towards the lighthouse. “The Justice League, the very force that has kept my husband too enthralled with the surface world to keep a kingdom in order, is in trouble. Would you keep me from helping?”
“I would.” Vince Kennedy stood tall for the first time, his eyes glowing black, if that were possible. “We need to usher in the Fifth World. You and me, my Queen.”
“You speak with a mouth full of stupidity,” Mera defied as she stopped, pondering the repercussions of her recent physical changes at the hands of those not of this world.
“Whatever,” Black Alice interjected, pretending that the continuation of all existence did not rest within this moment. “We know where Aquaman is,” she said bluntly and with a nonchalant inflection.
Mera turned to her, the bones of her dead husband’s hand still hovering around her as she moved. “The surface world be damned,” she said, “as it should have always been. Take me to him and know that if you mislead me that you will not breathe to see the end of this.”
“That’s all we wanted to hear,” Secret said, her voice a whisper within a cloud of ethereal smoke.
“My name is Vince,” Kennedy started to introduce himself, having been raised in a polite society.
“I don’t care who you are,” Mera stated with a frown. “Take me into the path to save my husband and all of Atlantis will be in your debt.”
Vince shrugged as if he had expected such a response from the Queen of three-quarters of the globe. “Then you should know that my name is Vince,” he said with a smile. “You’ll need to know that when you erect a statue of me in the middle of Atlantis’ town square.”
Mera scowled at the boy but hoped unspoken that the three young surface dwellers were true to their indications. “It will be a pleasure to meet you, Vince, once this is over and I feel the embrace of my husband once more. I mean no disrespect…yet.”
Vince moved to her and pressed his fingers to her cheekbones, accessing the ingrained technologies that were recently planted within her. “I intend to earn every ounce of that statue,” he said as a Boom Tube opened behind them.
Black Alice smiled with anticipation while Secret seemed to want to be anywhere else but there. The sounds of the burning lighthouse mingled with the rhythm of the ocean tide as they entered the Boom Tube, ready to end the threat of the Demon Mother at the cost of the continued existence of the Justice League and the Earth as they knew it.
Despite the terrible explosion, the underground portion of the lighthouse had remained intact. Aged wooden beams held the bulk of what was once the lighthouse precariously as the struggle for the life restoring fluid within the Lazarus Pit intensified. What remained of the Justice League: Black Canary, the Flash, Atom and Zatanna, was strewn about the chamber, gravely injured and perhaps deceased. Batman and his travelling companions, the New God known as Bekka and the Daughter of the Demon Nyssa Raatko, fought for their lives against two nigh immortal beings of unknown power.
Batman leapt over the pool in the center of the room, administering a barrage of Batarangs into Zacharael, the Angel of Surrender. The huge white-skinned man had plans for the bodies of the Justice League; Batman had no intention of allowing the plans to reach fruition. Zacharael easily backhanded Batman across the chest, sending the Dark Knight into a stone wall. Chunks of masonry toppled from the impact, making the structure above even more unstable.
Nyssa, trained for decades with the League of Assassins, was making short work of Nicholas Onokentauros. She had managed to crack several of his ribs before he could erect a magical defense. As it stood, his magic was greatly depleted for unknown reasons. The relentless attack was raising panic within him; he knew when events were spiraling out of his control.
“Please,” he pleaded as his defensive barrier cracked under Nyssa’s assault. “I don’t want this.”
“You should have expected this, villain,” Nyssa replied, accenting the word ‘villain’ as if she were not one herself. “No one messes with the friends of the Bat. Even my father knows that.”
Onokentauros backed away, pressing himself against the wall. “I am forbidden to physically contact my descendants,” he said, hoping to get her to yield. “It is yet another curse that I bear as penance for my past discretions.”
Nyssa stopped her assault upon learning that Nicholas Onokentauros was her ancestor. She knew little of her heritage beyond Ra’s al Ghul, her father. As long lived as her family was, it seemed entirely possible.
Onokentauros took advantage of her momentary hesitation, instantly transforming his protective barrier into an offensive blast that smashed Nyssa in the face. Before she could react, she was rendered unconscious, stumbled back and tripped into the Lazarus Pit. Onokentauros took to joy in Nyssa’s fate and gave no indication of whether or not his claims of her ancestry were legitimate.
Batman grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, winded from the collision with the stone wall. He could not locate Nyssa or Bekka and hoped that they yet survived. Zacharael was collecting Zatanna from the floor, delicately lifting her to prevent further injury to the woman. Batman sprinted to him, intent on stopping the mad angel.
Onokentauros nabbed Batman’s cowl by the ear and twisted him around. With the Dark Knight still dazed, Onokentauros took the opportunity to try to get him to stop.
“Mister Wayne,” Nicholas muttered, knowing that the fact that he knew Batman’s true identity would give him leverage. “You can’t stop Zacharael. You have to let him do this with your friends. It’s the only way to bring about the end of the end.”
Aware of two dozen ways to bring Onokentauros to his knees, Batman smirked as he saw the most imminent threat to Onokentauros appear in his peripheral vision. “I’ll settle for the end of you,” Batman scowled as the Flash, brutally injured but quickly recovering, vibrated his hand into Onokentauros’s back. The scarlet vibration protruded through the man’s chest, the sensation setting the nerves within him to sleep. Nicholas froze, true panic took his nerve.
Batman forced a mild grin. “You know what happens when the Flash vibrates through solid matter, don’t you?” he asked as Onokentauros stood frozen. “He never quite got the hang of it.”
“I surrender,” Onokentauros mumbled, tears in his eyes as he faced his forgotten mortality. At the mention of the word, Zacharael stiffened and dropped Zatanna to the floor. The tattoos that covered his entire body spewed blue energies as he his muscles swelled. He turned to face Onokentauros and the heroes with a rage in his eyes that defied description.
“No one surrenders in my company!” he shouted, his voice a sonic boom. Ethereal wings of divine energies sprouted from his back as he barreled at Batman and the Flash. Zacharael was almost upon them when he was tackled by Nyssa Raatko, emerged from the Lazarus Pit and driven mad from the experience. Batman quickly joined Nyssa, kicking the Angel in the knee.
Blue energies erupted in all directions as Zacharael’s leg bent the wrong way, as Batman’s perfectly placed blow overpowered the nearly omnipotent opponent. Onokentauros watched as he held perfectly still, the Flash still vibrating to prevent the man from moving.
“That’s gotta hurt a bit, don’t you think?” the Flash said quietly from behind Onokentauros. “Just be glad I’m here and I’m saving you from a good portion of Batman’s punching and kicking.”
While Batman and the crazed Daughter of the Demon ruthlessly ganged up on Zacharael, Onokentauros watched as the New God Bekka reentered the chamber with the bulky, inert body of her dead companion hung over her shoulder. Thankfully, she was not so distracted like the others to forget the purpose of seeking out the Lazarus Pit.
“No! Don’t!” Onokentauros recognized the man to be a New God and instinctively reacted; pulling himself away from the Flash’s vibrating hand. Within a fraction of a second, he realized what he had done but he was shocked to learn that nothing happened. The Flash panicked for a brief moment as well until he was relieved and a bit confused by the lack of an explosion.
Bekka gave Onokentauros’s warning no consideration as she dropped Magnar into the Lazarus Pit, bringing the joint efforts and plans of Batman and Lucifer Morningstar to a pivotal point.
Benjamin Stoner, former psychotherapist and current usurper of the vestments of Fate, worked to rouse the bedraggled and cataleptic Hector Hall, the former Dr. Fate. Lilith had commanded Stoner to journey to Apokolips and dropped Hector into his care. The two had been mortal enemies; Stoner hated the idea of being in the same room as Hector Hall.
He bent to touch Hector and was blasted by an indecipherable hallucination upon contact. The shining golden helm of Fate floated aglow in the reflections of a divine green light. Billions of emerald comets streaked across the expanse of the universe. A million dimensions converged as the fate of a planet of gods was decided.
Stoner stumbled away from the shocking vision, dropping the Helm of Nabu as he tripped over his own cape. Hector Hall stirred to consciousness and looked directly into Stoner’s eyes. Stoner let out a whimper as Hector shared his thoughts with his sworn enemy. Stoner produced to orbs of mystical energies in his fists as he waited for Hall to attempt to take the vestments of Fate away.
Hector got to his feet as Stoner teetered on the edge of violence. He nonchalantly walked across the room and picked up the discarded Helm of Nabu. He dusted it off and saw his reflection in its flawless face; his beard was getting shaggy. With a smile, he handed the Helm to Stoner, who accepted it with a large sampling of confusion. “I believe we have somewhere to be,” Hector spoke calmly. He patted Stoner on the back, a sarcastic vote of confidence. “Whenever you’re ready, Dr. Fate.”
“But…” Stoner started before he was cut off as Hector put his index finger to Stoner’s lips.
Hector smiled, unnaturally revived from the virtual coma he had been less than a minute ago. “Don’t ask questions,” he said. “Just get us there.”
“As the Demon Mother says,” Stoner replied, following Lilith’s instructions.
“No,” Hector corrected. “As I say.”
Without further awkward conversation, Dr. Fate opened an omniversal portal in the air around them. Hector chuckled under his breath as he entered into the portal, followed reluctantly by the man pretending to be Dr. Fate.
With a legion numbering in the millions, the Army of the Yet to Be stormed the gates of Hell. Merryman, the scrawny commander of the countless obscurities, led the rush from their nonexistent home within the heart of Limbo. The flaming gates of the infernal realm, constructed of human bones and still living screaming decapitations, fell beneath the charge as heroes yet to be created mounted their offense in preparation for their potential actuality.
Aquaman followed Merryman’s lead, accompanied closely by Hal Jordan, Barry Allen and Ollie Queen, each garbed in their traditional, signature costumes. Magnar the New God refused to leave Aquaman’s side, insisting that their proximity was necessary for the proper execution of their intertwined fates. Jason Rusch, a new iteration of Firestorm, and St. Walker, the nonexistent Blue Lantern, the Japanese super teen called Most Excellent Superbat, and the monstrous alien servitor to Sinestro, Arkillo, rallied in the gateway, shocked by what they perceived.
The young Hispanic Aquagirl joined the pale skinned Batwoman and the steampunk magician Anna Fortune as they saw the entire expanse of the infinite realm of the damned was entirely empty…with one major exception. The navy cloaked eternal wanderer known through a thousand legends as the Phantom Stranger stood over the lifeless body of Neron, the supposed all-powerful ruler of Hell. The silver skinned Bulleteer and the prepubescent son of Batman, Damian Wayne, rushed to seek answers. An alternate universe’s version of the Joker, a hero known as the Jokester, awaited word from his commander. The extraterrestrial Tanga and the Apokoliptian con-man called Powerboy were unsure of further action. Merryman was astonished.
“State your business, Stranger,” Merryman commanded as the Army of the Yet to Be formed a defensive perimeter around the Stranger.
The Stranger gazed at them, his mere stare stirring tension into the millions of soldiers. Neron’s body poured toxic green blood from its multiple wounds as the Stranger stepped over it. “Your war has been relocated,” the Stranger said, his voice broadcast in all languages at the perfect volume. Everyone in attendance believed his words. “Had any of you bothered to look to the physical plane for an instant, you would know that your efforts are better suited elsewhere. Your hostility at being exempt from the memories and happenstances of the corporeal need be applied to the expulsion of the Demon Mother.”
“We don’t care about any of that,” Merryman responded in defiance.
The Army gasped at the insolence. Magnar pushed the puny man aside to argue. “Indeed we do,” Magnar bellowed, louder than necessary. “These men and women who hope and fight for their own existence do so under the suggestions of an idiot.”
Merryman’s feelings were instantly hurt and the resultant shift of opinion changed the legion’s outlook to the entire event.
Magnar continued. “The Earth man called Batman and the former despot of this very realm, Lucifer Morningstar, have set my soul, as well as my physical form, in this direction, knowing of the threats of which you speak. I have surrendered my immortality and my obscurity into the hands of their endeavors.”
Magnar walked to the Stranger, holding Aquaman by the arm, forcing him to come along. “Therefore I surrender myself to you,” he said as he went to one knee at the Stranger’s feet.”And I hope the Army of the Yet to Be will follow the lead of a true commander.”
The Phantom Stranger was silent as he watched the entirety of the Army joined Magnar on one knee. Aquaman surveyed the realm; even Hal, Barry and Ollie got down on one knee.
A Boom Tube opened inexplicably behind the Phantom Stranger as Aquaman was surrounded by an army that was once bent on destroying Hell but was now subservient to the whims of the Phantom Stranger and Magnar based on a simple conversational exchange. One by one, the Army of the Yet to Be rose and entered the Boom Tube, silent and docile.
“What’s going on?” Aquaman asked, fearful of the situation.
“Your fate is at stake here as well,” the Stranger commented as he surveyed the army.
Aquaman was suddenly hit with the realization that he did not question the actions of the Army of the Yet to Be when they wanted to storm the gates of Hell, so he had no idea why he was questioning this. He now knew that he was not working under his own volition. Reluctantly, he stopped protesting as the army entered the Boom Tube. He hoped for a moment in the near future to question the Stranger’s actions. He knew that the moment he went into the Boom Tube it would be all-out war with the forces of Hell and the children of the Demon Mother.
“To ease your indecision,” the Stranger said, “all will soon know of my true intentions as well as my true origins.”
“I don’t care,” Aquaman replied, regretful as he watched his friends bend so easily to the whims of the Stranger.
“Help and your people will be rewarded,” the Stranger said, the tone of his voice directed to no one but Aquaman. “In some ways, this entire Crisis is all for you.”
“Do not try to intimidate me, it won’t work,” Aquaman replied. “Do you not know who I am?”
The Stranger was unaffected. “Help me and you will be returned to life,” he offered.
“I will assist you, but not for you,” Aquaman growled. “I will do it for Hal and Barry and Ollie. For Merryman, Anna, Lorena and Jason. They deserve to be.”
“Indeed they do,” the Stranger as he motioned to invite Aquaman into the Boom Tube. “So go.”
Wordlessly, Aquaman entered into the Boom Tube. The Demon Mother would fall.
Mera followed the three youths down the endless cylindrical corridor, walking calmly towards her own resolution. The end was in sight as she began to smell the acrid odors of burning fuels and unwashed slaves. Coming to the end of the brilliant tunnel of light, she was greeted by several unlikely travelers.
Princess Diana, made of Stone of the Melt.
Red Tornado, of the Air and Vapors.
Buddy Baker, the Animal Man of the Red.
Black Orchid, the Outsider of the Gray.
Jack of Fire, the Demon from the Flame.
Nightshade, of the Dark.
Misty Kilgore, Fairy Princess of the Myth.
Kudzu, Samurai Assassin of the Green.
One man went to greet Mera as she exited the Boom Tube. The smell of cigarettes permeated from his trench coat even though he was not currently smoking. John Constantine grinned a yellow smile as he welcomed Mera to Apokolips.
“Hello, luv,” he said as he moved her to the large round table that was set amidst the smog and soot of the malignant planet. “Let me be the first to welcome you to the Parliament of Elements.”
Mera gazed back to her traveling companions for reassurance. Black Alice was chomping at the bit to witness what was to come. The Secret looked nervous, aware of her destiny. It was only then that they realized that Vince Kennedy was missing.
Vince Kennedy did the mathematics in his head. There was no reason for him to remain with the others when there was so much at stake. With a simple modification of what he knew of the Anti-Life Equation he was able to bend the impossible physics of the Boom Tube technology to his will. He went where he was needed.
“Why do you interrupt my contemplation?” the thick, gravel voice of Darkseid, ruler of Apokolips, asked him as he snuck into his royal chambers.
Vince was not intimidated by the legendary evil that stood before him. The man stood eight feet tall and seemed to be made of invulnerable stone. There was so much within the situation for Vince to fear, yet he held his own. “I know you hold a Guardian of the Universe in captivity,” Vince declared, reveling in Darkseid’s surprise that a simple Earth boy would know of such things. “You will free him and reignite the Green Lantern Corps.”
Darkseid laughed, pretending to not be offended. “Foolish boy,” his dry voice grinded, “I never free anything unless it accompanies personal gain. Do you not listen to the night whispers that are afraid to speak my name? Even upon your insignificant ball of dirt, my evil maintains that of legend.”
Vince shook his head, defying the all-powerful force of evil with but a simple gesture. “Release the remains of the Green Lantern Corps and I will share with you the Anti-Life Equation,” Vince said as Darkseid instantly knew that the boy had such knowledge within him. Centuries of wisdom had taught Darkseid to perceive the truth, as rare as it was in a place like this.
Without a word, Darkseid led Vince Kennedy down a secret stairwell that led deep beneath the royal towers of the Apokoliptian Elite. Vince could hear the rings calling his name as they moved toward the imprisoned arsenal. Neither Vince nor Darkseid expected opposition this deep inside of the terrible planet but opposition certainly arrived. The Demon Mother herself had decided to see to the continuation of the imprisonment of the Guardian, willing to abandon her own interests in order to protect someone else’s secret.
“You are fools to think that I know not what is happening on Apokolips as I reduce New Genesis to ashes,” she spat, the slithering words crawling from her mouth in disgust.
“You have no idea what you face if you decide to face me,” Darkseid growled, ready for an epic assault. Rarely was such imagined, much less chronicled.
“I feel that the Adam is close,” Lilith said distractedly, a realization popping into her head. “Finally,” she remarked as she knew that everything that she had done had finally caught the attention of her prey. She was doing all of this to bring Adam to her so that she could remove him from existence as she had been removed from the histories and mythologies in which he had thrived. Deciding instantly, she abandoned Apokolips in order to welcome the arrival of Adam to where she was thought to be.
Rematerializing upon the burning plains of New Genesis, she was greeted by the attacking Army of the Yet to Be and was certainly surprised to see her Adam leading the millions of warriors into battle dressed in a navy blue suit and cloak, hiding his eyes from the world to hide his terrible secrets.
Lilith would have words with the Phantom Stranger, and only one of them would be walking away. Whether or not existence would fall into extinction was irrelevant.
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To Be Continued...
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