Post by HoM on Apr 16, 2008 10:59:58 GMT -5
Previously, in the DC2-
The Gods lived on two worlds- one Heaven, the other Hell. Heaven was despoiled by the Dark Side. Hell brought war to Earth. Earth won. Now, with Darkseid and his nemesis Highfather imprisoned beyond the end of space, the dark legions are scattered and the just New Gods rule over the once-foul Apokolips. It is a new dawn for the Fourth World.[/b]
If a planet could be said to be weeping, then that was what Earth was doing. The green and blue world’s orbit seemed mournful to match the hearts and minds of it’s people. In many ways, they should have been rejoicing- they had won a great victory scant days ago, and liberated their planet. But victory could not wipe away the many losses sustained, both by the orb’s inhabitants and it’s protectors. And as wins went, this had been a steep one, with uncountable casualties spiraling well into the millions. There were few cities left untouched by the global war that had ravaged it’s surface- and that went for cities both ordinary and extraordinary.
Because for the last three days, a city unlike any other had been hovering over the United States.
Even to one who had traveled the length and breadth of the universe, seen star-spanning empires encompassing trillions of sentient beings, crossed dimensions, witnessed the evolution of species from single celled organisms to the conquerors of galaxies, there could still be found no greater glory or splendor in the universe than the golden spires of the floating city. The hovering metropolis contained a thousand buildings of a thousand different shapes and structure. Here in what had once been the capital of the world named Genesis, art was prized almost above function, and the fantastic, almost impossible architecture of the citadel in the sky bore testament to that priority. Even now, in the aftermath of a brutal and terrible war, it remained demonstration of the capabilities of it’s residents. When one asked what made the residents of the Fourth World “Gods” rather than aliens, Supertown was all the answer that was necessary. And now smoke rose from the ruins of what had once been it’s most prestigious structures.
Three figures stood atop the tallest standing tower, at the centre of the gleaming citadel, gazing out on the devastation below. The youngest of the figures wore a torn white bodysuit broken by golden gauntlets and red trunks. His handsome face did not bear it’s customary smile; instead, for once in his life, Lightray was grim. Beside him was a figure who was his opposite in almost every way- where Lightray was young and fit, Himon was much older, as his receding grey hair and his lined face could attest. Even his garb was darker- he wore a tattered green and black robe which was too large- a remnant from happier days when the now thin New God had been able to fill out the clothes with ease. He too bore a frown. And finally, there was Orion. The Dog of War, like his companions, was far from merry on this day despite his people’s victory, but for him, it was a near constant. Few indeed were the smiles that had ever crossed his lips. Clad in his traditional red uniform, he carried his infamous silver helm, with it’s emblem of a glowing star, under one arm, and his eyes betrayed uncustomary emotions the warrior would never admit to possessing. Loss. Pain. And perhaps even a little fear.
“It has been a long week,” Himon murmured, breaking the silence that had pervaded since they came to stand there hours ago. “It will only get longer.”
“We won,” Lightray objected weakly, though there was little optimism in his voice, which only served to undermine just how bad things had become. “We can thank the Source for that.”
“And it only took a few million deaths and the destruction of our homeworld to do it,” Orion snarled in response. “Yes, we won. My father, curse his blasted name, is sealed away forever, and his dark legions scattered. But at what cost?” He turned to fix his glare on Himon. “Genesis is still dead. And now Highfather is gone too. It’s twilight for our people, Himon.” The elder God shook his head, placing a hand on Orion’s shoulder.
“No,” he spoke calmly, confidently, though not without some sadness. “This is not an end, Orion. It’s a new beginning. A chance to start fresh. Darkseid is sealed away, Virman Vunderbarr, Kalibak, Steppenwolf and the rest of his loathsome old guard are in our custody, or that of Earth, and besides that foul witch Granny Goodness and some of her minions, our enemies are defeated or dead. Supertown may have been decimated in the war… but we shall rebuild her, greater than before. And then we shall rebuild Apokolips, and make it good, and pure, as it should always have been.”
Lightray nodded energetically, his spirits restored somewhat by Himon’s words. He added his own, to break his best friend’s customary scowling demeanor.
“Highfather Izaya may have passed on, but his wisdom is still with us, Orion. Superman presented me with his staff to hold until we can find Scott and…”
“Scott…” Orion murmured. “He’s abandoned his duties to his homeworld, to his people! He was Highfather’s son, it’s his duty to take up his role and…”
“No, my young friend,” Himon broke in. “Scott has spent his entire life trying to attain freedom from his past. Now that he has it, it would be wrong to take it from him again. You know that as well as we do. No, the truth of the matter here is that… you’re afraid.”
In another time, another place, Orion would have roared a response and challenged Himon to a battle right there and then. But things changed, and instead, he merely turned his head away for a long moment.
“I’m not the right choice…” he muttered at last, but at that Lightray gave a whoop and clapped him on the back.
“So that’s what’s been bothering you!” he exclaimed. “Well, that’s a load off my mind.” He laughed at the bewilderment on his old friend’s face. “Of course you are.” He began to tick off on his fingers. “You’re the foster son of Highfather. You’re the best war leader the New Gods have ever had. Your speeches can stir up a person’s blood like no one else I’ve ever seen, and though you don’t like to show it, you’re one of the most intelligent New Gods there is. Orion, you’re the perfect choice.”
“You leave out one little detail,” snapped Orion, goaded and enraged by his friend’s levity- even Himon was smiling softly now. “I’m the scion of Darkseid. I know more evil than any other God in the city!”
“And that,” Himon pointed out softly. “Is precisely why you’re the best possible candidate to lead us. Because no one else knows our enemy as well as you do.” A long silence fell over the three as Orion simply stared between them, shoulders heaving as he took deep breaths and considered his friends’ words for a long moment.
“The future we will build on Apokolips,” Himon said at last, gazing intently into Orion’s eyes with his own gleaming blue ones. “Will echo down through the ages. We will extinguish the firepits and replace them with fields and rivers and valleys- we will build a kingdom of conscience, a paradise, a Heaven. What we do, Orion, will be told on a thousand worlds for millennia to come.” For a moment, Orion looked back at him uncertainly. Then his gaze slipped to Lightray, who nodded slowly, an encouraging smile on his face. At last, his shoulders sagged and he relented.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Let’s do it.” With a crackle of energy, Lightray hopped into the air and hovered alongside the two, his grin widening now.
“Okay then, Highfather Orion. Let’s go greet your people!”
Steam poured into the air above the planet formerly known as Apokolips. Colossal billowing clouds hot enough to utterly consume any being and leave no trace at all, reaching temperatures literally reaching thousands of degrees poured expanded ever outwards from a massive crater in the ground, filling the horizon, visible for hundreds of miles around. With the dark smog reaching high like some terrible black hand clawing from the ground, it was as though Darkseid was in power again and wreaking his evils.
Only one being remained within a hundred miles of the crater, floating in a golden harness. His entire body glowed with energy and it was taking the combined might of the mysterious Astro-Force he wielded, the power of the Source he could call upon and all the shields his Mother Box could throw up to prevent him from being atomized by the massive temperatures at hand. But Highfather Orion was well content. Far above the steam, huge turbines mounted in Genesian battleships helped cool the scalding gas- not enough to condense it, but enough that it no longer proved quite so lethal. On the contrary, within days, it would provide rain to regions which had never known such a weather system. Beneath his helmet, Orion’s eyes squinted through the smoke, unconsciously activating Mother Box’s filters to allow him to see.
He could see no flame above the crater any more- it was time to move on.
“Phase Alpha is complete,” he barked crisply into Mother Box, knowing she would pass it on to the massed New Gods waiting beyond the declared 100 mile radius. “We have managed to douse the flames above surface level- move in with phase two now.” This was the most important stage. It had taken months to gather and harvest sufficient water supplies for this purpose. Once, Apokolips had blossomed with massive firepits, miles wide- belching foul tongues of flame into the noxious sky and easily visible from space. It had taken many months, but the New Gods of Genesis had devised a means to quench them, and one by one, the fire pits were extinguished. Now, only this last one remained. Orion’s eyes narrowed further- soon, the last remnant of his father’s foul reign would be swept away.
Even as he watched, the flow of steam choked and suddenly the amount bursting forth began to lessen. That meant the Bug engineers had done their work- the vacuum field was now in effect. The flames of the firepits sprang from the world’s molten core. In order to douse them, the New Gods had to first pour colossal amounts of water onto the outer flames. It was obviously impossible to completely extinguish them- there was simply not enough water, and the flames simply incinerated any liquid further down, but they had been able to pour on enough to force down the massive columns of flame which bursted up over a hundred kilometers high from the surface of the world back down into their craters. Now they activated a specially installed vacuum field which took over a month to prep. It would suck out all the oxygen from the column of flame for Source knew how deep into the planetary mantle. Without air, the flames were unable to feed, and gradually went out.
Time went by, and the steam cleared still more. Over an hour passed, and Orion waited ever more impatiently, shooting frequent glances at Mother Box to ensure he wasn’t missing a communication. Waiting had never been his strong point. At last, when enough of the steam had passed up to the cooling ships, the final phase began. An entire convoy of behemoth transport ships passed low to the planet’s surface, hauling an absolutely enormous circular plate of metal. So huge was the plate that it seemed as though even this flotilla could not sustain it’s weight, but just when Orion feared they would need more ships, they got into position and released their cargo.
With a thump which echoed across the planet, the plate crashed down over the hole which had once been a firepit, sealing the crack in the surface like a giant cork. The Dog of War finally allowed himself to relax back in his harness, removing his helmet and wiping a brow he had not even known was sweating. For the first time in a long while, he allowed a smile to disturb his misshapen face.
“This is Highfather to Himon,” he said into his Mother Box, allowing some relief to enter his voice. “I’m coming home.”
“Yes, lord,” came his old ally’s response immediately. “And may I say… well done, sir!”
“Thank you, Himon,” he responded genuinely. “And… the same to you. I think we can finally make the announcement we’ve talked about. If you would, please… call the Gods together.” For the first time since he had assumed the leadership of the world which had once been called Apokolips, Orion, ruler of New Genesis, felt that all was well.
“This displeases me,”
“I know, dear….”
“These mortals have no respect for one another- shoving and pushing endlessly…”
“We’ve both experienced worse,”
“That was from fellow Gods! These are mortals! What gives them the right….”
“I know, dear, you’ve said this before.”
“….Are you patronizing me, Scott?”
“I, my dear Barda? Never!”
They made an odd couple as they pushed their way through the crowds in the Iowa shopping mall. He was a man of ordinary stature, with dark hair and unusually quick blue eyes- fairly ordinary-looking in his jacket and jeans. She, on the other hand, was anything but. She was far taller and more muscular than any other person present, dwarfing her companion. Her expression was haughty, with a trace of arrogance, and she looked distinctly out of place in a skirt and blouse it had taken Scott over an hour to talk her into. In short, Scott decided, going underground as normal Americans was probably not the best idea he’d ever had.
“Remind me again why we’re here, Scott?”
“Yes, dear,” he kept his voice controlled as they kept walking, attracting the stares of almost everyone they passed. Scott tried to ignore them- Barda kept looking disdainfully around her. She was a good woman- kind, compassionate, and caring. But all the same, it wasn’t that long ago she’d been a captain among Darkseid’s vicious female furies, and traces of her old arrogance- her old self, still lingered. Still, he reflected, it kept a partnership interesting! “We need to stock up on food supplies again.”
“We did this last week,” she responded. It was not a question. He nodded.
“And now it’s time to do it again.” Her eyebrows flickered.
“I continually forget how regularly people here require sustenance. Though I have to say, given the standard of food, it’s hardly surprising they eat more regularly here than Apokolips!” Scott nodded, hiding a smirk. Despite her surface complaints, Barda was a big fan of the Big Mac. Well, of several Big Macs at once, to be precise. Etiquette was not prized on Apokolips.
Not that Scott himself could claim to be any expert either. He had lived most of his life as a prisoner on Apokolips before he escaped, traveled across America, and then in the midst of battle, met Barda. She had saved his life in the invasion, and they had been together here on Earth ever since. Scott’s father, Highfather Izaya, had been a casualty of the battle, and though he had no intention of taking on his father’s role- Mister Miracle was not meant to rule- the young New God still maintained occasional Mother Box communications with his friend Orion on New Genesis, as Apokolips was now known.
“I have to say,” Barda interrupted his reverie. “I could get used to a life on Earth.” He turned to her with a surprised smile.
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
She smiled back at him, some amusement in her eyes. “Of course not. The mortals can be quite… interesting, in their own way. And of course… I’m with you, Scott.” The young New God suddenly felt a rush of affection which was difficult to contain, and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the Source in his mind. Thank you. For her. Despite all that’s happened to both of us, despite all the adversity and torment and horror… thank you for her…
“I just wish I didn’t make us… stand out so much,” Barda reflected, shaking her head as more astonished locals ducked out of their way- they were now approaching the food court.
“Relax,” Scott reassured her. “We’ll be fitting right in before you know it!”
And that was precisely when shouts sounded from several directions at once and the crowd began to rapidly move. In confusion, the two turned, Scott placing a hand on his mother box and Barda instinctively reaching for where her Mega Rod should be, if it was not back at their house. Suddenly, armoured soldiers burst out of the crowd, training their rifles on the pair. In mere seconds, they were completely surrounded. Two officers in great coats- one of them quite large with blonde hair and glasses, one of them smaller with a goatee which was losing it’s battle against grey, pushed their way through to the front of the crowd- both had drawn pistols.
“I’d say we found them, Clev,” the smaller one mused.
“Looks like it, Bill. Unless you see anyone else around here looking like the damn statue of liberty just took up and ran away.” He paused, as though to think about it. “Do you, by any chance? Because I am once again, in the revolving door which is my love life, looking for someone special, and I imagine Lady Liberty to be one hell of a girl.”
“Unique, I’ll grant you that. I thought you swore off swearing?”
“I thought you gave a damn whether or not we completed our assignment.” The taller man nodded, conceding the point, and turned back to the bewildered pair.
“Barda of Apokolips,” he barked, sounding more serious- and a shiver ran up Scott’s spine as he realized the implications of what had just been said, just as a murmur began to run through the crowd. “We’re with the DEO. You’re under arrest for crimes against humanity.” The other agent leant forwards, tapping the barrel of the pistol he was aiming at her.
“I’d suggest you come quietly.”
New Genesis was a planet in balance.
There was a time, before the invasion of Earth, when it was still known as Apokolips and ruled by dread Darkseid, when the planet had represented the ultimate evil. It was darkness to the planet Genesis’ light. When men on Earth spoke of Hell, their descriptions would not have felt at all out of place to the denizens of Armagetto, the massive sprawling capital of Apokolips, or to the slaves who had toiled endlessly to work its flame pits in order to cater for their overlord’s war machine.
Now the world represented neither evil nor good, instead showcasing an almost entirely equal and yet uneasy truce between the elements of light and dark.
The skies did not blaze as red as tongues of flame, nor the dark of blackest night as once they had… but nor did they yet reflect the bright, shining blue of the skies that had once been over Genesis. It was a grey sky that hung over the changed world, a sky in transition- though what it was transitioning to was in the hands of the immortals who walked the world’s surface. No more fire gushed forth from the world’s surface now, and the New Gods who tried to tend the world had even managed to coax a small but expanding ocean on the planet’s southern pole- but the waters were dull, grey and lifeless. They might yet evolve, given time, into lush seas- but equally so, they could easily be scalded from the planet by a malevolent force.
Even the urban metropolis of Armagetto was radically changed by the planet’s change of ownership. Darkseid’s palace had been razed to the ground, and in it’s place had been placed a giant hospital, the very antithesis of all the dark one had stood for. It had been Lightray’s idea- few places needed more care than the centre of the slave town. All statues of the overlord had been dismantled and melted down, and the Genesians had tried hard to supply the confused and bewildered former slaves, many of whom had never known any lives but their current ones. There was plenty of work to be done, but most of the former slaves were frightened and at a loss at the idea of having a choice of whether or not to do it, and food and drink whenever they wanted. With expanding water systems, sanitary facilities and even schools and hospices across the vast city, it was slowly becoming less of a city of the damned and more of a city with potential yet to be tapped.
And then there were the once barren deserts, now half seeded with life. For every acre which was still a rocky wasteland, there came another which was now being used as the beginnings of a seedling farm- for every abandoned resource mine there was now a water digging facility. Despite how much was still wrong with the world, for the first time in it’s history, there seemed the potential that Apokolips could be saved.
And for Virman Vunderbar and Desaad, that was simply inacceptable.
“Fools,” spat Desaad from beneath his voluminous, tattered purple robe as he peered out of the secluded rock-cave in one of the planet’s remaining wastelands. “Mindless cringing fools! Do they have any idea how much work we put into channeling the planetary core into those pits?” The gaunt, thin figure who had once been Darkseid’s chief torturer wrung his withered hands, a look of contempt crossing his ugly face. “It could take years before we can harness that energy again.”
“I have heard this all before, Desaad,” sneered the New God standing behind him. “Und ve are no closer to stopping it now than ve vere then.” Desaad whipped around to glare harshly at the taller figure, still clad in a faded red uniform with gold embroidery which had long since lost it’s gleam. Virman Vunderbar still wore a monocle, although it was cracked, and he still insisted on slicking back his dark, greasy hair- as though appearance mattered now.
“Not true, Vunderbar,” he responded silkily. “We are closer… ever closer. We’re just not moving fast enough…” The firepits temporarily forgotten, he considered for a moment.
“Und the responsibility is on your head. You guaranteed us you could provide us vith a being who was strong enough for our purposes!
Desaad’s eyes narrowed- it had been a bone of contention for weeks.
“You know my answer. These New Gods know nothing- we need to capture someone higher up in their hierarchy to tell us where they are. And where they go, he goes.”
Vunderbar scowled again, deeper than before.
“I vill not risk more troops. Ve have lost most of our parademons in this var already, and the new breed will not be ready for some time.” Desaad merely shrugged.
“Then send in the Furies. Even without Granny, that should be sufficient, particularly under your so-called ‘strategic genius”, the torturer snorted. “But you know we can’t proceed without Steppenwolf and Kanto, who despite all your promises continue to reside in their prisons.”
“Ja, that is true. But I am not so sure… about you…” Vunderbar stepped closer to Desaad, anger etched on his face one hand on the pistol clipped into his belt.
“Please,” Desaad spat. “We both know you need me to control him. And without him, you have nothing.” He turned his back on the fuming military commander, walking deeper back into their extensive cave network. “I’ll expect fresh meat by nightfall.”
Vunderbar glared after him, trembling in rage, but he forced himself to let go. Vengeance on that odious little worm would come after he had restored the pride of Apokolips. And there would be plenty of time to torture the torturer when he was lord over all the New Gods.
“Mother of Moses!” came the voice of Agent Bill Nodel as he flew several metres to crash into a nearby wall. Screams sounded in the crowded mall as the crowd threw themselves to the floor and the soldiers- all from the local National Guard unit and specially commandeered for this mission- opened fire.
“No!” shouted Scott over the commotion, but Barda’s battle rage had been ignited and she would not stop. Ignoring the bullets which shredded her clothes to expose the Apokoliptian battle armour she had never ceased wearing despite Scott’s recommendations, she grabbed the nearest rifle and ripped it in two with ease, eyes flashing with rage.
“Come quietly?” she shouted, punching a hole straight through the riot shield held my another guard. “COME QUIETLY?” Several guards tired to rush her but she simply threw them backwards with a shrug of her shoulders. “Scott was a hero of the war! We fought to overthrow Darkseid! And now you mortals wish to judge the Gods for what we did to save your planet?”
Cursing very colourfully with words even he had not known were in his vocabulary, agent Clevenger fired off another shot or two at the rampaging Apokoliptian before conceding that pistols were probably not going to do the job. He ran over to where Nodel had fallen, but his friend was alright, if a bit shaken.
“Wasn’t sure you could survive a throw like that at your age!”
“Cant say I was that sure either,” replied Nodel shakily.
“Well, now we know,”
“That we do.”
They both stood and watched as Barda tore through the Guards- always non-lethally, throwing them on all sides. Behind her, her partner had abandoned his attempts to discourage her and had instead shed his own ordinary clothes for some ridiculous red-and-green outfit, with what appeared to be a hovering silver discus under each foot. He too was currently in the process of destroying their carefully picked team, zipping in and out of their blasts and distracting them enough for Barda to take them out. They were one hell of a team.
“So, we were most definitely given bad info on this one…”
“You think so, Clev?”
“Yup, I’d say the powers-that-be royally screwed this one up.” They paused for a second, as Nodel scratched the back of his head.
“I’ll say this though… y’know when I was thrown?”
“Yeah?”
“When the really, really big woman threw me across the room?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean”
“…I’ve had dreams like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Just saying, man.
“Thank you for that, Bill. That is absolutely an image I needed to be loaded up with. But if you’re done fantasizing…” Clev advanced, his mind made up. “I think it’s time for Plan B.”
Barda grabbed the next agent and threw him against the nearest wall. As he reeled, she brought both fists together and raised them into the air when….
“Wait! Wait!” It was the two numbskulls who had started this whole thing. They were both waving their hands. The big one spoke first.
“Look, we didn’t….”
“Not interested,” Barda responded curtly, and pummeled the man she had been fighting. The two shared a glance, but Mister Miracle suddenly appeared in front of them, atop his hover discs.
“I am,” he told them sincerely. “What is it, officers?” Clev spoke first, his voice a harsh whisper.
“Listen, we didn’t… it’s not….”
“We need your help,” supplied his partner. Even beneath the mask, Scott’s skepticism was clear.
“No, seriously, we… we couldn’t be seen asking aliens for it, so we were told to take you in under the pretence of arresting you. It’s important!”
“Very important,” Clev nodded.
“Extremely important!” Scott was, for some reason, less than convinced.
“…You were told to ‘take us in’?” He whistled. “Whoever gives you your orders knows absolutely nothing about my partner, do they?”
“It would appear not,” conceded Clev as a battle cry sounded from behind them and another man flew through the air. “Look, we know you won’t believe us, and I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Except…. We overheard these two words.”
He told Scott the words. Scott’s face was suddenly deadly serious.
“Barda!” he called out. “Things have changed. Let’s go with the officers.”
Metron the Chronicler sat on his floating green mobius chair, fingers customarily knit before a face which was constantly impassive. Below him, Supertown had gathered. Almost every New God who was not a renegade had gathered in the main plaza, with the exceptions of Mister Miracle and Big Barda. Every inch of the square, and a significant chunk of the sky above it, was full of New Gods- old, young, male, female, all sorts. It was the first time since the aftermath of the invasion that Highfather Orion had announced a grand gathering, and rumor ran rampant as to what he would announce. A new policy to hunt down Vunderbar’s rebels? Or simply a self congratulatory speech about the extinction of the last fire pit? Orion was not given to small talk, if he had ordered them gathered, it had to be for something big. Of course, Metron knew exactly what. He had observed the New Gods for millennia, he was a master of time itself, he knew all that transpired on this world and most others. Today, he knew, would be momentous.
His reverie was interrupted as he heard a whizzing noise behind him.
“Lightray,” his heavy voice pronounced softly, without turning his head at all. “I would have thought you’d be with Highfather Orion. After all, this is going to be one of the most important days in the remaining time the Fourth World has…” Sighing, Lightray flew forwards to hover beside him.
“Some day, Metron, I’ll work out how you always know it’s me,”
“No,” Metron stated simply. “You will not.” A brief silence fell, but Lightray was not
one to have his spirits dampened for long.
“So you know exactly what Orion’s about to say, right?”
“Of course,” Metron nodded his head a fraction.
“And why are you here, Metron? You only show up to record significant things, right?” Metron hesitated for a long moment before responding slowly.
“The path Orion begins today will be cataclysmic to not only our reality, but all realities, and it will quite possibly bring the Fourth World to its dénouement.” He said it all in a precise, matter of fact tone, as though discussing some minor change in the climate. “I think that qualifies as significant.” Lightray simply stared at his companion for a moment, stunned. He was interrupted by a loud bleeping from his Mother Box. He glanced down at it, then back at Metron, and then down at the Mother Box again.
“…Orion just wanted to know why you were here…” he murmured. “I’d better get back there…” With one last glance at the utterly impassive Chronicler, he turned and zipped away.
Orion looked out at the assembled throngs of Gods beneath him and felt a surge of pride in his breast. It had been a difficult year indeed, but it was over. There had been many times where his frustration and rage had threatened to seize him, but with the help of Himon and Lightray, he had mastered them, he had managed even to partially discard them, though they would always be part of him. But these were good times. They were finally making progress at throwing back the shadow of Darkseid’s reign on this planet, and today would mark a turning point to be remembered in all history. Let Virman Vunderbarr cower in despair, wherever he was. Today, Orion made history.
“My people,” he called out over the masses, hovering high above in his astro-harness ,his image projected by Mother Boxes to every corner of the square. “Today, we have made the greatest step yet in destroying the remnants of Darkseid’s reign over this world!” He allowed a slight smile onto his face below the helmet, and thought of what Highfather would say if he were there now. “The fire pits are extinguished! No more does their noxious stench pollute our world; no longer do they spew forth ugly flames to dominate our surroundings! They are gone, and with them go the last trace of ‘Apokolips’”!” The Gods burst out in cheers, and Orion’s eyes scanned the crowd. He knew Bekka, Himon and Lightray were floating proudly behind him, his smile widened as he basked in their approval. Once an outcast, a renegade, a mere Dog of War, now he was a leader!
“So… weak…” The whip curled backwards, and the God it had ensnared fell dead to the floor. “Clearly they left only their stupidest warriors to guard the prisons. Your brother’s intelligence was right- the majority are in that golden monstrosity they call a city.”
“Hah. These fools breed them from the wrong stock. Lord Darkseid would never have permitted such weaklings to stand guard over the prisons!” Another New God whimpered slightly as he attempted to crawl away unnoticed, but a massive foot crashed down on his skull, crushing it ruthlessly.
“You got that right, Bernie!”
“It’s Bernadeth, you simpleton,” came the curt response. “Are we in?”
“Hahahahahahahahaaha…” another voice giggled inanely. “Not you, Harriet,” spat the God named Bernadeth. “Gilotina, are we in?”
“Despite your fondest wishes, Bernie,” came a smooth, deadly and silken voice, softer than the others. “I am the leader here, not you. I shall command.” There was a brief pause.
“We’re in, Lashina,” came the impossibly sweet, seemingly soft voice of another figure, this one blonde. “All these boys have decided to take a very, very long nap…”
“Excellent,” The female named Lashina snapped her whip back over her shoulder.
“Bernadeth, Gilotina, Harriet, Stompa, come….” A smile came to her sadistic face.
“Their prison lies virtually open. It’s time for the Female Furies to hunt…”
“Once, our world was named Genesis,” Orion’s voice resounded over the plaza.
“Apokolips destroyed that world, and all we held dear. But we won our war with them in the end, and we claimed their world as our own, and now it is truly Apokolips no more! And for a time, we called our home New Genesis, but this is not appropriate either. Genesis is the past, and we must look ahead to the future. We may never be Genesis, we shall be our own world! Our own people! That is why I am taking the step I take today…”
Lashina cracked her knuckles, a cruel smile coming to her face as she surveyed the entrance to the New Genesis prison complex. They had snuck through the secret ways to reach it, and now the last of the guards were defeated. Stealth would serve them no longer- they needed something loud now. But that was fine by her- stealth bored the leader of the Female Furies.
“Blow them up,” she instructed her charges, indicating the huge doors. “That should get the sanctimonious fools’ attention,” She unfolded her whip from her shoulder, running her tongue across her lips in anticipation of the battle to come.
“Let us show the Dog of War how true GODS do battle!”
Orion raised both hands, and behind him, Lightray held Highfather’s staff high. “This world of balance, once named Apokolips, until now named New Genesis, shall be given a new name again! One to symbolize a new beginning, and yet to remind us that we came from somewhere else before! Henceforth, this planet shall be named…”
He hesitated for a long minute, remembering when Himon had first suggested the idea. They had all approved- Orion himself had done so grudgingly, not wanting to abandon their age-old name. But in the end, they had convinced him, as now he must convince the rest. He looked up at last, straightening his back, head held high.
“…Our world in exile. Our paradise reborn. Our next step from Genesis.” He paused for one last second and then….
“Our EXODUS!”
If you wish to comment on this issue, please CLICK HERE to visit the letters page.
The Gods lived on two worlds- one Heaven, the other Hell. Heaven was despoiled by the Dark Side. Hell brought war to Earth. Earth won. Now, with Darkseid and his nemesis Highfather imprisoned beyond the end of space, the dark legions are scattered and the just New Gods rule over the once-foul Apokolips. It is a new dawn for the Fourth World.[/b]
Three Days after the Battle of Armagetto
If a planet could be said to be weeping, then that was what Earth was doing. The green and blue world’s orbit seemed mournful to match the hearts and minds of it’s people. In many ways, they should have been rejoicing- they had won a great victory scant days ago, and liberated their planet. But victory could not wipe away the many losses sustained, both by the orb’s inhabitants and it’s protectors. And as wins went, this had been a steep one, with uncountable casualties spiraling well into the millions. There were few cities left untouched by the global war that had ravaged it’s surface- and that went for cities both ordinary and extraordinary.
Because for the last three days, a city unlike any other had been hovering over the United States.
Even to one who had traveled the length and breadth of the universe, seen star-spanning empires encompassing trillions of sentient beings, crossed dimensions, witnessed the evolution of species from single celled organisms to the conquerors of galaxies, there could still be found no greater glory or splendor in the universe than the golden spires of the floating city. The hovering metropolis contained a thousand buildings of a thousand different shapes and structure. Here in what had once been the capital of the world named Genesis, art was prized almost above function, and the fantastic, almost impossible architecture of the citadel in the sky bore testament to that priority. Even now, in the aftermath of a brutal and terrible war, it remained demonstration of the capabilities of it’s residents. When one asked what made the residents of the Fourth World “Gods” rather than aliens, Supertown was all the answer that was necessary. And now smoke rose from the ruins of what had once been it’s most prestigious structures.
Three figures stood atop the tallest standing tower, at the centre of the gleaming citadel, gazing out on the devastation below. The youngest of the figures wore a torn white bodysuit broken by golden gauntlets and red trunks. His handsome face did not bear it’s customary smile; instead, for once in his life, Lightray was grim. Beside him was a figure who was his opposite in almost every way- where Lightray was young and fit, Himon was much older, as his receding grey hair and his lined face could attest. Even his garb was darker- he wore a tattered green and black robe which was too large- a remnant from happier days when the now thin New God had been able to fill out the clothes with ease. He too bore a frown. And finally, there was Orion. The Dog of War, like his companions, was far from merry on this day despite his people’s victory, but for him, it was a near constant. Few indeed were the smiles that had ever crossed his lips. Clad in his traditional red uniform, he carried his infamous silver helm, with it’s emblem of a glowing star, under one arm, and his eyes betrayed uncustomary emotions the warrior would never admit to possessing. Loss. Pain. And perhaps even a little fear.
“It has been a long week,” Himon murmured, breaking the silence that had pervaded since they came to stand there hours ago. “It will only get longer.”
“We won,” Lightray objected weakly, though there was little optimism in his voice, which only served to undermine just how bad things had become. “We can thank the Source for that.”
“And it only took a few million deaths and the destruction of our homeworld to do it,” Orion snarled in response. “Yes, we won. My father, curse his blasted name, is sealed away forever, and his dark legions scattered. But at what cost?” He turned to fix his glare on Himon. “Genesis is still dead. And now Highfather is gone too. It’s twilight for our people, Himon.” The elder God shook his head, placing a hand on Orion’s shoulder.
“No,” he spoke calmly, confidently, though not without some sadness. “This is not an end, Orion. It’s a new beginning. A chance to start fresh. Darkseid is sealed away, Virman Vunderbarr, Kalibak, Steppenwolf and the rest of his loathsome old guard are in our custody, or that of Earth, and besides that foul witch Granny Goodness and some of her minions, our enemies are defeated or dead. Supertown may have been decimated in the war… but we shall rebuild her, greater than before. And then we shall rebuild Apokolips, and make it good, and pure, as it should always have been.”
Lightray nodded energetically, his spirits restored somewhat by Himon’s words. He added his own, to break his best friend’s customary scowling demeanor.
“Highfather Izaya may have passed on, but his wisdom is still with us, Orion. Superman presented me with his staff to hold until we can find Scott and…”
“Scott…” Orion murmured. “He’s abandoned his duties to his homeworld, to his people! He was Highfather’s son, it’s his duty to take up his role and…”
“No, my young friend,” Himon broke in. “Scott has spent his entire life trying to attain freedom from his past. Now that he has it, it would be wrong to take it from him again. You know that as well as we do. No, the truth of the matter here is that… you’re afraid.”
In another time, another place, Orion would have roared a response and challenged Himon to a battle right there and then. But things changed, and instead, he merely turned his head away for a long moment.
“I’m not the right choice…” he muttered at last, but at that Lightray gave a whoop and clapped him on the back.
“So that’s what’s been bothering you!” he exclaimed. “Well, that’s a load off my mind.” He laughed at the bewilderment on his old friend’s face. “Of course you are.” He began to tick off on his fingers. “You’re the foster son of Highfather. You’re the best war leader the New Gods have ever had. Your speeches can stir up a person’s blood like no one else I’ve ever seen, and though you don’t like to show it, you’re one of the most intelligent New Gods there is. Orion, you’re the perfect choice.”
“You leave out one little detail,” snapped Orion, goaded and enraged by his friend’s levity- even Himon was smiling softly now. “I’m the scion of Darkseid. I know more evil than any other God in the city!”
“And that,” Himon pointed out softly. “Is precisely why you’re the best possible candidate to lead us. Because no one else knows our enemy as well as you do.” A long silence fell over the three as Orion simply stared between them, shoulders heaving as he took deep breaths and considered his friends’ words for a long moment.
“The future we will build on Apokolips,” Himon said at last, gazing intently into Orion’s eyes with his own gleaming blue ones. “Will echo down through the ages. We will extinguish the firepits and replace them with fields and rivers and valleys- we will build a kingdom of conscience, a paradise, a Heaven. What we do, Orion, will be told on a thousand worlds for millennia to come.” For a moment, Orion looked back at him uncertainly. Then his gaze slipped to Lightray, who nodded slowly, an encouraging smile on his face. At last, his shoulders sagged and he relented.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Let’s do it.” With a crackle of energy, Lightray hopped into the air and hovered alongside the two, his grin widening now.
“Okay then, Highfather Orion. Let’s go greet your people!”
Right Now…
Steam poured into the air above the planet formerly known as Apokolips. Colossal billowing clouds hot enough to utterly consume any being and leave no trace at all, reaching temperatures literally reaching thousands of degrees poured expanded ever outwards from a massive crater in the ground, filling the horizon, visible for hundreds of miles around. With the dark smog reaching high like some terrible black hand clawing from the ground, it was as though Darkseid was in power again and wreaking his evils.
Only one being remained within a hundred miles of the crater, floating in a golden harness. His entire body glowed with energy and it was taking the combined might of the mysterious Astro-Force he wielded, the power of the Source he could call upon and all the shields his Mother Box could throw up to prevent him from being atomized by the massive temperatures at hand. But Highfather Orion was well content. Far above the steam, huge turbines mounted in Genesian battleships helped cool the scalding gas- not enough to condense it, but enough that it no longer proved quite so lethal. On the contrary, within days, it would provide rain to regions which had never known such a weather system. Beneath his helmet, Orion’s eyes squinted through the smoke, unconsciously activating Mother Box’s filters to allow him to see.
He could see no flame above the crater any more- it was time to move on.
“Phase Alpha is complete,” he barked crisply into Mother Box, knowing she would pass it on to the massed New Gods waiting beyond the declared 100 mile radius. “We have managed to douse the flames above surface level- move in with phase two now.” This was the most important stage. It had taken months to gather and harvest sufficient water supplies for this purpose. Once, Apokolips had blossomed with massive firepits, miles wide- belching foul tongues of flame into the noxious sky and easily visible from space. It had taken many months, but the New Gods of Genesis had devised a means to quench them, and one by one, the fire pits were extinguished. Now, only this last one remained. Orion’s eyes narrowed further- soon, the last remnant of his father’s foul reign would be swept away.
Even as he watched, the flow of steam choked and suddenly the amount bursting forth began to lessen. That meant the Bug engineers had done their work- the vacuum field was now in effect. The flames of the firepits sprang from the world’s molten core. In order to douse them, the New Gods had to first pour colossal amounts of water onto the outer flames. It was obviously impossible to completely extinguish them- there was simply not enough water, and the flames simply incinerated any liquid further down, but they had been able to pour on enough to force down the massive columns of flame which bursted up over a hundred kilometers high from the surface of the world back down into their craters. Now they activated a specially installed vacuum field which took over a month to prep. It would suck out all the oxygen from the column of flame for Source knew how deep into the planetary mantle. Without air, the flames were unable to feed, and gradually went out.
Time went by, and the steam cleared still more. Over an hour passed, and Orion waited ever more impatiently, shooting frequent glances at Mother Box to ensure he wasn’t missing a communication. Waiting had never been his strong point. At last, when enough of the steam had passed up to the cooling ships, the final phase began. An entire convoy of behemoth transport ships passed low to the planet’s surface, hauling an absolutely enormous circular plate of metal. So huge was the plate that it seemed as though even this flotilla could not sustain it’s weight, but just when Orion feared they would need more ships, they got into position and released their cargo.
With a thump which echoed across the planet, the plate crashed down over the hole which had once been a firepit, sealing the crack in the surface like a giant cork. The Dog of War finally allowed himself to relax back in his harness, removing his helmet and wiping a brow he had not even known was sweating. For the first time in a long while, he allowed a smile to disturb his misshapen face.
“This is Highfather to Himon,” he said into his Mother Box, allowing some relief to enter his voice. “I’m coming home.”
“Yes, lord,” came his old ally’s response immediately. “And may I say… well done, sir!”
“Thank you, Himon,” he responded genuinely. “And… the same to you. I think we can finally make the announcement we’ve talked about. If you would, please… call the Gods together.” For the first time since he had assumed the leadership of the world which had once been called Apokolips, Orion, ruler of New Genesis, felt that all was well.
Meanwhile:
“This displeases me,”
“I know, dear….”
“These mortals have no respect for one another- shoving and pushing endlessly…”
“We’ve both experienced worse,”
“That was from fellow Gods! These are mortals! What gives them the right….”
“I know, dear, you’ve said this before.”
“….Are you patronizing me, Scott?”
“I, my dear Barda? Never!”
They made an odd couple as they pushed their way through the crowds in the Iowa shopping mall. He was a man of ordinary stature, with dark hair and unusually quick blue eyes- fairly ordinary-looking in his jacket and jeans. She, on the other hand, was anything but. She was far taller and more muscular than any other person present, dwarfing her companion. Her expression was haughty, with a trace of arrogance, and she looked distinctly out of place in a skirt and blouse it had taken Scott over an hour to talk her into. In short, Scott decided, going underground as normal Americans was probably not the best idea he’d ever had.
“Remind me again why we’re here, Scott?”
“Yes, dear,” he kept his voice controlled as they kept walking, attracting the stares of almost everyone they passed. Scott tried to ignore them- Barda kept looking disdainfully around her. She was a good woman- kind, compassionate, and caring. But all the same, it wasn’t that long ago she’d been a captain among Darkseid’s vicious female furies, and traces of her old arrogance- her old self, still lingered. Still, he reflected, it kept a partnership interesting! “We need to stock up on food supplies again.”
“We did this last week,” she responded. It was not a question. He nodded.
“And now it’s time to do it again.” Her eyebrows flickered.
“I continually forget how regularly people here require sustenance. Though I have to say, given the standard of food, it’s hardly surprising they eat more regularly here than Apokolips!” Scott nodded, hiding a smirk. Despite her surface complaints, Barda was a big fan of the Big Mac. Well, of several Big Macs at once, to be precise. Etiquette was not prized on Apokolips.
Not that Scott himself could claim to be any expert either. He had lived most of his life as a prisoner on Apokolips before he escaped, traveled across America, and then in the midst of battle, met Barda. She had saved his life in the invasion, and they had been together here on Earth ever since. Scott’s father, Highfather Izaya, had been a casualty of the battle, and though he had no intention of taking on his father’s role- Mister Miracle was not meant to rule- the young New God still maintained occasional Mother Box communications with his friend Orion on New Genesis, as Apokolips was now known.
“I have to say,” Barda interrupted his reverie. “I could get used to a life on Earth.” He turned to her with a surprised smile.
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
She smiled back at him, some amusement in her eyes. “Of course not. The mortals can be quite… interesting, in their own way. And of course… I’m with you, Scott.” The young New God suddenly felt a rush of affection which was difficult to contain, and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the Source in his mind. Thank you. For her. Despite all that’s happened to both of us, despite all the adversity and torment and horror… thank you for her…
“I just wish I didn’t make us… stand out so much,” Barda reflected, shaking her head as more astonished locals ducked out of their way- they were now approaching the food court.
“Relax,” Scott reassured her. “We’ll be fitting right in before you know it!”
And that was precisely when shouts sounded from several directions at once and the crowd began to rapidly move. In confusion, the two turned, Scott placing a hand on his mother box and Barda instinctively reaching for where her Mega Rod should be, if it was not back at their house. Suddenly, armoured soldiers burst out of the crowd, training their rifles on the pair. In mere seconds, they were completely surrounded. Two officers in great coats- one of them quite large with blonde hair and glasses, one of them smaller with a goatee which was losing it’s battle against grey, pushed their way through to the front of the crowd- both had drawn pistols.
“I’d say we found them, Clev,” the smaller one mused.
“Looks like it, Bill. Unless you see anyone else around here looking like the damn statue of liberty just took up and ran away.” He paused, as though to think about it. “Do you, by any chance? Because I am once again, in the revolving door which is my love life, looking for someone special, and I imagine Lady Liberty to be one hell of a girl.”
“Unique, I’ll grant you that. I thought you swore off swearing?”
“I thought you gave a damn whether or not we completed our assignment.” The taller man nodded, conceding the point, and turned back to the bewildered pair.
“Barda of Apokolips,” he barked, sounding more serious- and a shiver ran up Scott’s spine as he realized the implications of what had just been said, just as a murmur began to run through the crowd. “We’re with the DEO. You’re under arrest for crimes against humanity.” The other agent leant forwards, tapping the barrel of the pistol he was aiming at her.
“I’d suggest you come quietly.”
Elsewhere:
[/i]New Genesis was a planet in balance.
There was a time, before the invasion of Earth, when it was still known as Apokolips and ruled by dread Darkseid, when the planet had represented the ultimate evil. It was darkness to the planet Genesis’ light. When men on Earth spoke of Hell, their descriptions would not have felt at all out of place to the denizens of Armagetto, the massive sprawling capital of Apokolips, or to the slaves who had toiled endlessly to work its flame pits in order to cater for their overlord’s war machine.
Now the world represented neither evil nor good, instead showcasing an almost entirely equal and yet uneasy truce between the elements of light and dark.
The skies did not blaze as red as tongues of flame, nor the dark of blackest night as once they had… but nor did they yet reflect the bright, shining blue of the skies that had once been over Genesis. It was a grey sky that hung over the changed world, a sky in transition- though what it was transitioning to was in the hands of the immortals who walked the world’s surface. No more fire gushed forth from the world’s surface now, and the New Gods who tried to tend the world had even managed to coax a small but expanding ocean on the planet’s southern pole- but the waters were dull, grey and lifeless. They might yet evolve, given time, into lush seas- but equally so, they could easily be scalded from the planet by a malevolent force.
Even the urban metropolis of Armagetto was radically changed by the planet’s change of ownership. Darkseid’s palace had been razed to the ground, and in it’s place had been placed a giant hospital, the very antithesis of all the dark one had stood for. It had been Lightray’s idea- few places needed more care than the centre of the slave town. All statues of the overlord had been dismantled and melted down, and the Genesians had tried hard to supply the confused and bewildered former slaves, many of whom had never known any lives but their current ones. There was plenty of work to be done, but most of the former slaves were frightened and at a loss at the idea of having a choice of whether or not to do it, and food and drink whenever they wanted. With expanding water systems, sanitary facilities and even schools and hospices across the vast city, it was slowly becoming less of a city of the damned and more of a city with potential yet to be tapped.
And then there were the once barren deserts, now half seeded with life. For every acre which was still a rocky wasteland, there came another which was now being used as the beginnings of a seedling farm- for every abandoned resource mine there was now a water digging facility. Despite how much was still wrong with the world, for the first time in it’s history, there seemed the potential that Apokolips could be saved.
And for Virman Vunderbar and Desaad, that was simply inacceptable.
* * *
“Fools,” spat Desaad from beneath his voluminous, tattered purple robe as he peered out of the secluded rock-cave in one of the planet’s remaining wastelands. “Mindless cringing fools! Do they have any idea how much work we put into channeling the planetary core into those pits?” The gaunt, thin figure who had once been Darkseid’s chief torturer wrung his withered hands, a look of contempt crossing his ugly face. “It could take years before we can harness that energy again.”
“I have heard this all before, Desaad,” sneered the New God standing behind him. “Und ve are no closer to stopping it now than ve vere then.” Desaad whipped around to glare harshly at the taller figure, still clad in a faded red uniform with gold embroidery which had long since lost it’s gleam. Virman Vunderbar still wore a monocle, although it was cracked, and he still insisted on slicking back his dark, greasy hair- as though appearance mattered now.
“Not true, Vunderbar,” he responded silkily. “We are closer… ever closer. We’re just not moving fast enough…” The firepits temporarily forgotten, he considered for a moment.
“Und the responsibility is on your head. You guaranteed us you could provide us vith a being who was strong enough for our purposes!
Desaad’s eyes narrowed- it had been a bone of contention for weeks.
“You know my answer. These New Gods know nothing- we need to capture someone higher up in their hierarchy to tell us where they are. And where they go, he goes.”
Vunderbar scowled again, deeper than before.
“I vill not risk more troops. Ve have lost most of our parademons in this var already, and the new breed will not be ready for some time.” Desaad merely shrugged.
“Then send in the Furies. Even without Granny, that should be sufficient, particularly under your so-called ‘strategic genius”, the torturer snorted. “But you know we can’t proceed without Steppenwolf and Kanto, who despite all your promises continue to reside in their prisons.”
“Ja, that is true. But I am not so sure… about you…” Vunderbar stepped closer to Desaad, anger etched on his face one hand on the pistol clipped into his belt.
“Please,” Desaad spat. “We both know you need me to control him. And without him, you have nothing.” He turned his back on the fuming military commander, walking deeper back into their extensive cave network. “I’ll expect fresh meat by nightfall.”
Vunderbar glared after him, trembling in rage, but he forced himself to let go. Vengeance on that odious little worm would come after he had restored the pride of Apokolips. And there would be plenty of time to torture the torturer when he was lord over all the New Gods.
Earth:
“Mother of Moses!” came the voice of Agent Bill Nodel as he flew several metres to crash into a nearby wall. Screams sounded in the crowded mall as the crowd threw themselves to the floor and the soldiers- all from the local National Guard unit and specially commandeered for this mission- opened fire.
“No!” shouted Scott over the commotion, but Barda’s battle rage had been ignited and she would not stop. Ignoring the bullets which shredded her clothes to expose the Apokoliptian battle armour she had never ceased wearing despite Scott’s recommendations, she grabbed the nearest rifle and ripped it in two with ease, eyes flashing with rage.
“Come quietly?” she shouted, punching a hole straight through the riot shield held my another guard. “COME QUIETLY?” Several guards tired to rush her but she simply threw them backwards with a shrug of her shoulders. “Scott was a hero of the war! We fought to overthrow Darkseid! And now you mortals wish to judge the Gods for what we did to save your planet?”
Cursing very colourfully with words even he had not known were in his vocabulary, agent Clevenger fired off another shot or two at the rampaging Apokoliptian before conceding that pistols were probably not going to do the job. He ran over to where Nodel had fallen, but his friend was alright, if a bit shaken.
“Wasn’t sure you could survive a throw like that at your age!”
“Cant say I was that sure either,” replied Nodel shakily.
“Well, now we know,”
“That we do.”
They both stood and watched as Barda tore through the Guards- always non-lethally, throwing them on all sides. Behind her, her partner had abandoned his attempts to discourage her and had instead shed his own ordinary clothes for some ridiculous red-and-green outfit, with what appeared to be a hovering silver discus under each foot. He too was currently in the process of destroying their carefully picked team, zipping in and out of their blasts and distracting them enough for Barda to take them out. They were one hell of a team.
“So, we were most definitely given bad info on this one…”
“You think so, Clev?”
“Yup, I’d say the powers-that-be royally screwed this one up.” They paused for a second, as Nodel scratched the back of his head.
“I’ll say this though… y’know when I was thrown?”
“Yeah?”
“When the really, really big woman threw me across the room?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean”
“…I’ve had dreams like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Just saying, man.
“Thank you for that, Bill. That is absolutely an image I needed to be loaded up with. But if you’re done fantasizing…” Clev advanced, his mind made up. “I think it’s time for Plan B.”
Barda grabbed the next agent and threw him against the nearest wall. As he reeled, she brought both fists together and raised them into the air when….
“Wait! Wait!” It was the two numbskulls who had started this whole thing. They were both waving their hands. The big one spoke first.
“Look, we didn’t….”
“Not interested,” Barda responded curtly, and pummeled the man she had been fighting. The two shared a glance, but Mister Miracle suddenly appeared in front of them, atop his hover discs.
“I am,” he told them sincerely. “What is it, officers?” Clev spoke first, his voice a harsh whisper.
“Listen, we didn’t… it’s not….”
“We need your help,” supplied his partner. Even beneath the mask, Scott’s skepticism was clear.
“No, seriously, we… we couldn’t be seen asking aliens for it, so we were told to take you in under the pretence of arresting you. It’s important!”
“Very important,” Clev nodded.
“Extremely important!” Scott was, for some reason, less than convinced.
“…You were told to ‘take us in’?” He whistled. “Whoever gives you your orders knows absolutely nothing about my partner, do they?”
“It would appear not,” conceded Clev as a battle cry sounded from behind them and another man flew through the air. “Look, we know you won’t believe us, and I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Except…. We overheard these two words.”
He told Scott the words. Scott’s face was suddenly deadly serious.
“Barda!” he called out. “Things have changed. Let’s go with the officers.”
Supertown:
Metron the Chronicler sat on his floating green mobius chair, fingers customarily knit before a face which was constantly impassive. Below him, Supertown had gathered. Almost every New God who was not a renegade had gathered in the main plaza, with the exceptions of Mister Miracle and Big Barda. Every inch of the square, and a significant chunk of the sky above it, was full of New Gods- old, young, male, female, all sorts. It was the first time since the aftermath of the invasion that Highfather Orion had announced a grand gathering, and rumor ran rampant as to what he would announce. A new policy to hunt down Vunderbar’s rebels? Or simply a self congratulatory speech about the extinction of the last fire pit? Orion was not given to small talk, if he had ordered them gathered, it had to be for something big. Of course, Metron knew exactly what. He had observed the New Gods for millennia, he was a master of time itself, he knew all that transpired on this world and most others. Today, he knew, would be momentous.
His reverie was interrupted as he heard a whizzing noise behind him.
“Lightray,” his heavy voice pronounced softly, without turning his head at all. “I would have thought you’d be with Highfather Orion. After all, this is going to be one of the most important days in the remaining time the Fourth World has…” Sighing, Lightray flew forwards to hover beside him.
“Some day, Metron, I’ll work out how you always know it’s me,”
“No,” Metron stated simply. “You will not.” A brief silence fell, but Lightray was not
one to have his spirits dampened for long.
“So you know exactly what Orion’s about to say, right?”
“Of course,” Metron nodded his head a fraction.
“And why are you here, Metron? You only show up to record significant things, right?” Metron hesitated for a long moment before responding slowly.
“The path Orion begins today will be cataclysmic to not only our reality, but all realities, and it will quite possibly bring the Fourth World to its dénouement.” He said it all in a precise, matter of fact tone, as though discussing some minor change in the climate. “I think that qualifies as significant.” Lightray simply stared at his companion for a moment, stunned. He was interrupted by a loud bleeping from his Mother Box. He glanced down at it, then back at Metron, and then down at the Mother Box again.
“…Orion just wanted to know why you were here…” he murmured. “I’d better get back there…” With one last glance at the utterly impassive Chronicler, he turned and zipped away.
* * *
Orion looked out at the assembled throngs of Gods beneath him and felt a surge of pride in his breast. It had been a difficult year indeed, but it was over. There had been many times where his frustration and rage had threatened to seize him, but with the help of Himon and Lightray, he had mastered them, he had managed even to partially discard them, though they would always be part of him. But these were good times. They were finally making progress at throwing back the shadow of Darkseid’s reign on this planet, and today would mark a turning point to be remembered in all history. Let Virman Vunderbarr cower in despair, wherever he was. Today, Orion made history.
“My people,” he called out over the masses, hovering high above in his astro-harness ,his image projected by Mother Boxes to every corner of the square. “Today, we have made the greatest step yet in destroying the remnants of Darkseid’s reign over this world!” He allowed a slight smile onto his face below the helmet, and thought of what Highfather would say if he were there now. “The fire pits are extinguished! No more does their noxious stench pollute our world; no longer do they spew forth ugly flames to dominate our surroundings! They are gone, and with them go the last trace of ‘Apokolips’”!” The Gods burst out in cheers, and Orion’s eyes scanned the crowd. He knew Bekka, Himon and Lightray were floating proudly behind him, his smile widened as he basked in their approval. Once an outcast, a renegade, a mere Dog of War, now he was a leader!
* * *
“So… weak…” The whip curled backwards, and the God it had ensnared fell dead to the floor. “Clearly they left only their stupidest warriors to guard the prisons. Your brother’s intelligence was right- the majority are in that golden monstrosity they call a city.”
“Hah. These fools breed them from the wrong stock. Lord Darkseid would never have permitted such weaklings to stand guard over the prisons!” Another New God whimpered slightly as he attempted to crawl away unnoticed, but a massive foot crashed down on his skull, crushing it ruthlessly.
“You got that right, Bernie!”
“It’s Bernadeth, you simpleton,” came the curt response. “Are we in?”
“Hahahahahahahahaaha…” another voice giggled inanely. “Not you, Harriet,” spat the God named Bernadeth. “Gilotina, are we in?”
“Despite your fondest wishes, Bernie,” came a smooth, deadly and silken voice, softer than the others. “I am the leader here, not you. I shall command.” There was a brief pause.
“We’re in, Lashina,” came the impossibly sweet, seemingly soft voice of another figure, this one blonde. “All these boys have decided to take a very, very long nap…”
“Excellent,” The female named Lashina snapped her whip back over her shoulder.
“Bernadeth, Gilotina, Harriet, Stompa, come….” A smile came to her sadistic face.
“Their prison lies virtually open. It’s time for the Female Furies to hunt…”
* * *
“Once, our world was named Genesis,” Orion’s voice resounded over the plaza.
“Apokolips destroyed that world, and all we held dear. But we won our war with them in the end, and we claimed their world as our own, and now it is truly Apokolips no more! And for a time, we called our home New Genesis, but this is not appropriate either. Genesis is the past, and we must look ahead to the future. We may never be Genesis, we shall be our own world! Our own people! That is why I am taking the step I take today…”
* * *
Lashina cracked her knuckles, a cruel smile coming to her face as she surveyed the entrance to the New Genesis prison complex. They had snuck through the secret ways to reach it, and now the last of the guards were defeated. Stealth would serve them no longer- they needed something loud now. But that was fine by her- stealth bored the leader of the Female Furies.
“Blow them up,” she instructed her charges, indicating the huge doors. “That should get the sanctimonious fools’ attention,” She unfolded her whip from her shoulder, running her tongue across her lips in anticipation of the battle to come.
“Let us show the Dog of War how true GODS do battle!”
* * *
Orion raised both hands, and behind him, Lightray held Highfather’s staff high. “This world of balance, once named Apokolips, until now named New Genesis, shall be given a new name again! One to symbolize a new beginning, and yet to remind us that we came from somewhere else before! Henceforth, this planet shall be named…”
He hesitated for a long minute, remembering when Himon had first suggested the idea. They had all approved- Orion himself had done so grudgingly, not wanting to abandon their age-old name. But in the end, they had convinced him, as now he must convince the rest. He looked up at last, straightening his back, head held high.
“…Our world in exile. Our paradise reborn. Our next step from Genesis.” He paused for one last second and then….
“Our EXODUS!”
To Be Continued….
New Gods #1
"Exodus", Part I of II
Written by Kevin Feeney
Cover by Craig Cermak
Edited by Charles HoM
"Exodus", Part I of II
Written by Kevin Feeney
Cover by Craig Cermak
Edited by Charles HoM
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