#50: Tempus Moritur

[HoM]

PROLOGUE:

YEARS AGO

THE DAY THE JUSTICE LEAGUE INTRODUCED THEMSELVES TO THE WORLD

THE HALL OF JUSTICE:

“And then Superman was all like--” Hal’s voice took on a deep and steely tone, “We’re the Justice League. We can take it. And the crowd just went wild!”

They were in the meeting room of the Hall of Justice. Green Lantern had one foot on his swivel chair, facing Batman who sat at the huge table, embossed with the JL logo. The Emerald Gladiator was regaling the Dark Knight with the events of the recently-concluded press conference, but Batman was looking bored*.

*Want to know what Green Lantern’s talking about? Read Justice League #1, from 2006

“I know. I was there.” He dismissed Hal’s story as Wonder Woman walked in, smiling at them.

Green Lantern frowned. “What? No you weren’t. It was just the six of us--”

Batman’s chair pivoted slowly to face Hal, and the Dark Knight told him in a level voice: “Just because you didn’t see me, doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.”

Hal looked dubious, glanced at Wonder Woman, who shrugged meaningfully, then gave it up.

Batman’s mouth quirked as he turned from the ringslinger.

Undeterred, Hal laughed it off but when his ring flared he held up his hand and watched as his fingers began to fade out of existence. “What in--?”

Batman didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew it could mean nothing good. “Lantern!”

Batman and Wonder Woman stood abruptly, their chairs clattering to the ground, and moved toward their new colleague, but before they could reach him, the Green Lantern was gone. The two Justice Leaguers looked at each other, confused.

“My pulse is racing,” said Wonder Woman. “Strange.”

Batman felt his neck. “Mine too. Panic response.” He looked back and saw his chair on the floor. “Did we lose time?”

Wonder Woman looked around the room, looking for some sign of what had happened. “I don’t understand. How did--?” Diana turned back to Batman, but he was gone. “Superman is running late,” she said nonchalantly. “I won--?”

Without further fanfare, Wonder Woman faded from existence, followed by the members of the Justice League in the building not already present, then finally the Hall of Justice. In its place was ash and ruin, spreading across the face of the world like mould, until the planet Earth was nothing but a charcoal blot on the face of the universe.

Gone, as if the human race never existed in the first place. And with it, the Justice League.

JUSTICE LEAGUE

Issue FIFTY: “TEMPUS MORITUR”

Written by House Of Mystery

Cover by Roy Flinchum & Jamie Rimmer

Edited by Mark Bowers

Fifty issues and ten years later, my thanks to everyone who helped get us here...

PART ONE

THE CRYSTAL PANTHEON; THE 4TH IMMATERIAL CENTURY:

Rip Hunter looked around the glass palace of the Crystal Pantheon, waiting to be called into the Last Courtroom. Whistling while her hands were tucked deep into the pockets of her dark green overcoat, she quietly contemplated the severity of the crimes committed by the man-- the thing-- on trial.

The Pantheon’s agents had tracked her down to a remote island off the coast of Reykjavik on the edge of the 20th century, where she had been sitting drinking and waiting for Christmas Day to come.

Time had frozen around Rip, an effect she’d usually been on the other side of, and she’d awoken-- groggy, limbs heavy-- before the Crystal Pantheon’s ruling class.

“It is time, Rip Hunter,” said Xx, the lead magistrate. The Crystal Pantheon were both a people and the place they existed; ten-feet tall and wearing modest black robes that covered their features, but their names were emblazed on their chests in shields. Xx had worked with Rip before, in an adventure that helped, in part, form the Justice Society Finite on the shores of the Nth Century. Their friendship had been forged in fire, and Xx knew it owed her. “We have chained Tempus and intend to bring about final judgement.

“You what?” said Rip. “How did-- how-- when-- you managed to do what?”

Yy interrupted, casting a glance in Xx’s direction. “The chrono-trickster Tempus was caught meddling in the affairs of a young race in an attempt to derail their eventual ascendance into a hyper-society. Our agents put things right and we have drained him of the energy he uses to leap through time.”

Rip ran her hands through her hair, completely surprised by the events laid out for her. “That monster avoided detection across the time stream for aeons. If you managed to track him down, you need to do more than just lock him down--”

Xx nodded. “Tempus has done nothing but damage the time stream. Once the list of offenses has been heard, we will remove his genetic strain from existence. But as per our society’s beliefs, a criminal must hear their deviancy before final judgement.”

“Tempus then,” said Rip Hunter. “At long last. Let’s get this done.”

A single, tinkling bell rang as Rip stood outside the doors of the Last Courtroom. In the 4th Immaterial Century, space had contracted into a space where only a few thousand of the Crystal Pantheon could survive. Time, for them, was a bubble they rarely ventured out of. But Tempus was worth the risk of bursting said bubble. And as of yet, they had made it through another journey, with their quarry secured and ready for conviction. Rip knew that within time, reality would expand again and the Pantheon would exist no more, but of their people, only Xx knew what came next.

Time was a mysterious thing, and only Rip Hunter knew her secrets.

Rip entered the Last Courtroom, where Tempus stood in the centre of a large, cylindrical hall, bathed in a light that made him appear monochromatic.

“Well, Rip, you’re looking healthy,” said Tempus, smiling smugly as he saw her enter. With a full beard and wearing a three-piece suit that would have made him inconspicuous in most of the twentieth centuries, he cast her a gentle wave, the heavy shackles around his wrist preventing him from lifting his hands much higher than his stomach. “And a woman too! What’s that then, a regeneration?”

“My secrets are mine alone,” said Rip. “But look at you, like a mouse caught in a trap.”

“Ah, yes, well,” said Tempus, flippantly. “I didn’t think you’d make the time to come see me off.”

“See you off?” scoffed Rip. “You’re about to be unravelled, Tempus. And for everything you’ve done… good bloody riddance.”

“The prisoner has been in our custody for twenty-four hours,” said Xx. “In that time, we have isolated the appropriate moment in the timestream we will need to intervene to remove his malignant strain from existence. The Pantheon will freeze that moment and surgically remove the possibility of Tempus coming into existence.”

“I always wanted to know where I came from,” said Tempus, leaning forward. “My history is so muddy, I don’t even know when it is that these marvellous men-- or women, I don’t judge-- will enter my timeline. It’s absolutely terrifying, don’t you think?”

Rip’s brow furrowed. For someone about to be removed from existence, Tempus didn’t seem very concerned. But then again, the man was a sociopath and he considered the timeline his own personal playground. Was there anything in existence that could scare him?

“Yes, well…” said Tempus, his voice drawling out. “Shall we get on with the show? I have places to be, and this list is agonising to listen to. All those terrible things? I feel like I’m being pigeon-holed.”

“You’re a monster, Tempus!” spat Hunter. She felt decades of anger bubble up inside her. “And your luck finally ran out! After this, I don’t have to follow after you and undo every crime you ever committed against the timeline!”

Tempus reeled back and let out a hearty, one syllable, “Ha!” He shook his head dismissively. “But if you keep undoing what I do, does that mean my crimes even count? I mean, what have I done, apart from have a little bit of fun here and there?”

“Silence,” said Xx. “The worst of your atrocities may not have damaged the timeline, but the ripples have caused unlimited repercussions. The potential for the timeline to become brittle and shatter has only been avoided thanks to the work of Rip Hunter,” he gestured toward her. “You are--”

“Ugh, so boring,” said Tempus. “Now, here’s the thing, kiddies. I’m a pragmatic sociopath, I think we’ve established that. So when I heard that the Crystal Pantheon were on their way down the timeline to nab me, I may have stacked the deck in my favour.”

Rip’s eyes widened. There was a rumbling outside, on the fringe of the pocket of time the Crystal Pantheon existed within. Had this been a trap? She began to type furiously onto the device embedded into the gauntlet she wore, tethering her Time Sphere to her genetic signature. A parachute, in case of emergency. But when there was no response from the Time Sphere, still probably parked somewhere in the vicinity of that Icelandic island and currently covered in snow.

Rip began to feel a shiver of panic run up her spine.

“Xx, you need to end this-- you need to remove him from the timestream forever,” said Rip. “He’s done something-- can’t you feel it--?”

Xx turned slowly toward Rip. “Tempus is contained. The reading of crimes must be completed before execution.”

“Oh, yes, please do continue,” said Tempus. “I mean, we have forever.” He glanced around. The members of the Crystal Pantheon, one by one, began to disappear. “Oh, maybe that’s only me.”

“What have you done?” demanded Rip. She drew her sidearm from its holster and levelled it at the villain.

Tempus shrugged and his shackles vanished from his wrists. “I might have travelled back in time and smashed the first crystalline intelligence circuit that formed at the end of the 3rd Immaterial Century… therefore rendering the 4th Immaterial Century… very fragile.” The cage that held Tempus dissolved as he stepped through it, toward Rip. “And that’s not all, my dear Rip.”

Xx buckled over and shrieked in an inhuman tone as Tempus approached them. Rip fired a salvo into Tempus’s chest, but he laughed as a shimmer spread over his chest. “Oh, please.” He gestured viciously toward Rip in a swiping motion and she flew across the room, smashing into the crystalline structures that made up the far wall of the chamber. “Xx, be a dear and transfer your time travel abilities into me, please? You did strip me of all my own equipment when I arrived here, so I think it’s only fair.”

Xx struggled, bending over backwards violently, a move that would have broken any carbon-based lifeform in half. It reached out a glistening hand to Tempus and energy flowed from the crystalline being into the sociopathic time traveller. “Oh, that feels swell, don’t you think?”

Xx began to disintegrate, and Tempus laughed. “Rip, be a dear and stick around. I locked this pocket of time, so the only way you can get out, funnily enough, is if you’re me.” He moved impossibly fast, the abilities of the Crystal Pantheon flowing through him and allowing him to manipulate the timeline like it was putty. He grabbed Rip, who was frozen in time, and wrenched her back by her hair. “I never liked going back to the 21st century. I didn’t know how far I could go, how much I could do, without damaging my own history and rendering myself non-existent. But the Crystal Pantheon have my genetic strain now, they know when and where I’ll be realised. Which ancestor, which grandpappy or grandmammy-- who I really needed to be me. Now I have that, thanks to dear ol’ Xx, and now I’m going to secure my future, and end yours.”

With a click of his fingers, Tempus was gone, and the 4TH Immaterial Century fell apart all around the dazed and confused Hunter.

“Oh, crap, crap, crap,” said Rip, pulling herself up as the timestream began to unravel around the bubble of the Crystal Pantheon.

The 3rd and 5th centuries were colliding, and then the 5th would be overwritten with the changes wrought by the absence of the 4th, therefore becoming the new 4th, and then the 5th would be created anew-- the temporal energies being unleashed would crush Rip, and she knew it, but she had one chance, one slim chance, so she stamped her foot as hard as she could and thanked the heavens when the floor gave way. She plummeted down, toward the edge of the time pocket the 4th Immaterial Century had existed in, and braced herself for impact--

There was a pop as the bubble burst and the chronal energies smashed together, but for a split second Rip was in-between time, naked to the timestream, and as an agent of order in the chaos that was the timeline, she knew that she could work with it.

On impact, the Time Sphere she’d tethered to herself materialised around her, and it began to bounce around, trying to find some safe timeline to land in.

Rip knew where Tempus was going. She only hoped she would be in time to stop whatever heinous act he was intending to commit.

ON THE WAY BACK TO THE PRESENT DAY:

Hurtling back toward their present, the Justice League were discussing the events of the last few days, and the battle they’d just experienced. At what point in their own timeline would they return? Would it be days, representing the time they spent in the future? Or would it be minutes, or no time at all?*

*You’ve not missed anything… or have you?

“I hate time travel,” said Blue Beetle. “I mean, honestly, how can anybody do this day in, day out?”

“We did what we needed to do,” said the Guardian. “We helped stop the Legion of Super-Villains, and the auto-return on the Time Sphere the Legion of Super-Heroes lent us will get us home. The headaches will pass, I’m sure.”

“I just wish the others were here to see it,” said Cyborg. “I mean, did you see Brainiac 5.2’s face when we were the ones who came to help? You know he wanted Superman and the others in the big seven.”

“We were more than enough,” said Big Barda, patting her Mega-Rod.

“How are your upgrades, Victor?” asked Doctor Light. “Your system was under a lot of pressure when you battled Validus, but everything’s holding up?”

“Brainiac patched me up,” said Cyborg, admiring the sheen on his cybernetic components, and the array of new schematics his body could now arrange themselves into. “He said that they’d last for a thousand years, then said something about a closed time loop, and then I kinda glazed over.”

“The less we talk about this, the better,” said the Guardian, clenching his fist. He’d travelled through time before and it always left him with a weight in his chest. “I don’t want discussions of our future interfering with the present.”

“That’s fair,” said Mister Miracle. “Who wants an unfair advantage on what tomorrow brings?”

“I’m just glad that we’re headed home,” said Mera. “As astonishing and as wonderful as the future was... I just want to hold my son again.”

“Won’t be long now, your highness,” said Blue Beetle as he checked the monitors. “Hold onto something, we’re about to--”

THE PRESENT DAY:

--Their 31st Century Time Sphere should have arrived on the island headquarters of the Justice League, known as Laputa, but instead it materialised above a massive chasm and immediately went into freefall. As soon as they arrived, as soon as freefall set in, the Time Sphere faded, returning back to the Legion’s time, leaving the Justice League to head down, toward their deaths--

“What-- the-- hell--?!” shouted Blue Beetle.

Cyborg grabbed Mera and the Guardian, rockets emerging from his feet to allow him to fly.

Mister Miracle activated the Aero-Discs at his feet and took Doctor Light by the hand, while Big Barda did the same with Blue Beetle. The seven of them were hovering above a void in space, the air thick with the smell of long-burned-off charcoal, completely unfamiliar with their surroundings.

“Guys, this is bad,” said Cyborg.

“You’re kidding, right?” said Blue Beetle. “I thought those 31st century eggheads would know how to read a map, right? Drop us off where we got picked up from?”

“They did,” said Cyborg. The team descended slowly toward the craggy, ashen ground below. “Guys, we landed where Laputa should have been. But there was nothing to catch us--”

“We’re at the bottom of what should be the ocean,” said Mera, a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she looked around. “We’re at the bottom of the sea, but there’s no water, no sign of life… what happened while we were gone?”

“I can’t pick up any stray electronic signals, no satellite link-ups,” said Cyborg. “Something went wrong while we were gone, on a global scale.”

“Could I please have a sensor array?” asked Doctor Light, gesturing to Cyborg’s back.

“Sure,” said Vic, his body shifting to accommodate her request and a screen and keyboard flipping out of his mostly mechanical back. Doctor Light nodded in thanks and began to look through the readings his body had taken in.

“Any energy signatures? Radiation?” asked the Guardian. He was looking out onto the horizon, his brow furrowed as something caught his eye in the distance.

“There are none,” said Doctor Light. Cyborg bent over to pick up a handful of ash while the work station he created for Light stayed in the same place. She analysed the results. “There’s zero organic matter detectable. This place is lifeless, has been for, perhaps, five years? I can’t get an exact date…”

Big Barda’s eyes flashed. “Five years ago... the Apokolips invasion occurred,” she gestured to her husband. “We arrived on Earth.”

“Hmm,” said Mister Miracle, “could we have landed back in an alternative timeline?”

“I’m sorry, but what’s that?” asked the Guardian, as the blip on the horizon he had spotted became visible.

Cyborg’s eyes extended and he looked concerned. “Some kind of… storm? Black clouds, purple lightning-- it’s not a good-looking weather event, I’ll tell you--”

There was a loud sound as a shape began to appear behind the Justice League, and within a few seconds-- with the team preparing themselves for anything-- Rip Hunter emerged from the Time Sphere. “You need to get inside! Before that storm loops back round! C’mon!”

The Justice League looked at each, recognised the look of a Time Sphere and heard the horrific, screaming rumble of the storm as it became clearer and clearer-- and spread from one end of the world to the other. They rushed inside, the Time Sphere powered up, and they were suddenly moving through a new kind of a storm, swirling blue and white light rushing by them as Rip Hunter piloted their craft.

“I need to get some distance between us and that time storm, and the only option we have… is…”

Rip pushed down on a lever hard and the craft made heavy clunking sounds.

“That’s fine! That’s fine! We’re--”

Suddenly the ship went quiet, and they were drifting above a jungle planet, the roars and cries of the dinosaurs below punctuating the relative silence of a world pre-humankind. “We’ll be okay here. You’d be surprised at how few interruptions you get when you hide out in the Cretaceous period over what will eventually become Chaoyang.”

As if to prove Rip Hunter wrong, a flock of Archaeopteryx flew by, squawking at the humans inside.

Rip shook her head. “Don’t look at the reptile birds for too long. They hate eye contact. I once learned that the hard way…”

“Who are you?” asked the Guardian. “What happened to Earth?”

“When?” replied Rip. “Sorry. No, I know when, it’s just… something awful happened and I’m still processing it, and when I’m,” she made a chopping motion with her hand, “when I’m, uh, working through things, I guess I talk, just to… not think.”

“Have we met before?” said Blue Beetle, smiling. “I mean, that’s how I deal with all the awful stuff that happens in our line of work…”

Doctor Light gave Beetle a look and he shrugged. “We’re in a Time Sphere, so you’re a time traveller, that much is obvious. Are you with the Legion of Super-Heroes? Do we need to go back?”

“Those anarchists? No, no,” said Rip, laughing. “They run roughshod over time like… wait.” She blinked. “You shouldn’t have survived the temporal storm that was unleashed on the 21st century. You shouldn’t be here at all. I mean, Thank God you’re here-- I detected your Time Sphere’s incursion into the timeline, but I didn’t know-- I wasn’t-- I---” She grabbed the Guardian by the shoulders. “How did you survive?”

“That’s what we’re trying to ask you,” said the Guardian, shrugging her off. “Survive what? Who are you? What’s going on here?”

“Hey, you’re wearing the same kind of clothes as Rip Hunter,” said Blue Beetle. “Are you his partner or something?”

“I am Rip Hunter! Long story short, but do you think that someone who travels back and forth through time gets to be so set on their gender and appearance? I learned early on that while I’m an inevitable part of the timestream, there are things less inevitable about me.”

“Rip?” said the Guardian, taken aback by the sight of her. “My god, man! What’s happened here?”

Rip’s eyes lit up as she realised who it was talking to her. “Jim Harper, you sonofabitch! I almost didn’t recognise you with the new costume,” she embraced the Guardian tightly, “it’s been too long! I guess the shield should have been a dead giveaway-- hell, I’m getting off track.”

“You know her?” asked Mister Miracle, quietly to the Guardian.

“A different version of him-- her, sorry-- yes,” said the Guardian. “But he was older and looked completely different.”

“A mad man known as Tempus travelled in time and did something that wiped the Justice League from existence before they could form in earnest, along with all the forward momentum of the timeline created from the team being together-- leaving us with the dead world we just escaped from. That storm you saw? That was a temporal event I’ve never seen before, and for me, in my line of work, that’s something big.. I can only guess that the reason you’re here is because you were out of time when the storm initially hit-- with the Legion, was it? But if you’re here, then that means we have a chance of--” A loud beeping resounded out of Rip’s gauntlet, and she looked at it instantly. Her brow furrowed and a second line of beeping started, overlapping with the first. “That’s weird,” she said, looking at her gauntlet, “the alarm… there was an echo, just for a moment, like it went off twice. But that’s…”

“Focus, Rip, what do we have to do to undo this,” said the Guardian.

“I think I know where he is, or where he’s been, or is going to have been,” said Rip, her hands moving as she spoke. She held up her gauntlet to the Guardian. “I’m linked to the alarm system for cache of confiscated temporal weapons. The alarm just triggered. If he’s going to do something awful to the timeline, that’s as good a place as any to start our hunt for him.”

“Let’s move,” said the Guardian. “Take us where we need to go to save our timeline!”

[HoM]

PART TWO

N2 BILLION YEARS INTO THE FUTURE:

The Time Sphere materialised on a dark plane of existence, pitch black skies overhead and a thick layer of mist across the floor. Across the way was a large, imposing fortress, circular in shape and reminding the Guardian of the panopticon of ancient times. “Where are we?” he asked.

“The Infernal Stockade,” said Rip Hunter, glancing around as they disembarked the Time Sphere, “a bubble reality where the worst weapons of mass temporal destruction exist.” She checked her gauntlet. “All the alarms have been tripped, and when that happens, certain agents of time get alerted. Myself included.”

“There are others?” said Cyborg. “Who?”

“We should be meeting them any moment,” said Rip, She began to count “The Linear Men-- Liri, Matt, Waverider and Travis. A couple of different Chronoses-- Chroni?-- a Flash or three, two Hourmen, uh… Hell, Booster Gold should be here somewhere.”

“Booster?” said Blue Beetle, incredulously. “Why would Booster be here?”

“You don’t know?” said Rip. She smiled, but then felt a sting of confusion. Beetle should have known at this point that Booster Gold was an agent of time, but had something happened in the time since that had wiped his memories of that information? “I misspoke, I didn’t mean your Booster Gold, there are others…” She hoped no one caught her lie, but knowing her luck today…

Blue Beetle nodded slowly and began to look around. “So, where are they?”

Rip shook her head “I don’t know… but if they’re not here, there has to be a good--” There was a crunch underfoot and she looked down, the thick mist at their feet obscuring what they were walking on. “Oh, no.”

Mera moved her arms around and took control of the mist, enough water molecules present for her to clear a large space. Blue Beetle held up his BB-Gun and its flashlight attachment powered up, illuminating the newly-revealed field of skeletons at their feet.

Rip crouched and picked up a skull, the familiar golden sheen of the hard metal skin hanging off it like shredded paper reminding her of an old friend. “…Waverider.”

The team glanced around. Familiar costumes abounded amongst the ancient bones. The scarlet and gold of the Flash here and there. An Hourman costume tangled up with circuitry and scraps of cape.

“A field of the dead,” said Big Barda. “Is this right, Rip? Should it be like this?”

“No, no, it shouldn’t,” said Rip. “Right, we need to, oh, oh God,” she buckled under the weight of what it all meant. Every Linear Man, every agent of time, of order, was dead at their feet. Dead for centuries, it looked like. Tempus had done something awful and led them to their deaths. Their loss, along with the destruction of an entire timeline… it was one of the worst temporal disasters she’d ever witnessed. “The echo… he somehow triggered the alarms twice…drew them all here to die… we arrived in time for the second… my God…”

“C’mon,” said Cyborg, helping Rip up, “if we undo the damage he’s done, we bring them all back. We have to stop this monster first.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m just,” Rip exhaled slowly. “Okay… okay. Barda, Doctor Light, Guardian, if you don’t mind staying here with the Time Sphere, we need to make sure Tempus doesn’t strand us here. Being in the vicinity of my ship nullifies any temporal weapons he could throw your way. The rest of us will go inside, see what’s going on.”

“So, she’s in charge now?” said Blue Beetle, nudging Cyborg.

“She knows what she’s talking about,” said Cyborg. “Better her than me.”

INSIDE THE INFERNAL STOCKADE:

“…Whenever a weapon of temporal mass destruction is discovered, the Linear Men take it out of the equation,” said Rip as the group moved slowly through the dim corridors of the building. “Any time traveller on the side of the angels knows that if they find something that can make a loud bang across timelines they need to hand it over to someone who knows better. Then the weapon ends up here.”

The first thing Rip did was locate a small panel on the inside wall of the stockade. She flipped it open and pushed her hand against the surface of the thing, but nothing happened.

“What’s that?” asked Blue Beetle.

“Security system. I want to deactivate it before we go any further, but the power is down. It won’t recognise me… ugh, I hate to go any further without turning it off, but we don’t have any choice… Tempus really did a number on the systems here.”

“Don’t worry,” said Mister Miracle. “I’ll get us out if push comes to shove.”

Rip almost laughed. “And how would you do that? I mean, this place is a vault beyond vaults. If the security system comes back up, we’re dead. Pretty much wiped from the entirety of time.”

Mister Miracle just looked at her. “You don’t know who I am then.”

“I meet a lot of guys, but you…” Rip shook her head. “I’ve never seen any like you before.”

“Take it as a compliment,” said Beetle. “This man-- this god here-- is Scott Free, the master escape artist. You’ve heard of Exodus and Apokolips? The New Gods?”

Rip Hunter shook her head again. “No…”

Blue Beetle and Mister Miracle looked at each other. “Huh.”

“Mister Miracle will get us out,” said Mera. She was a few steps away from everyone else and was breathing slowly, feeling out the space. There was water somewhere down in the base of the stockade, she could sense it.

Mera had also noticed scorch marks across the walls, cracks in the floor... A war had taken place here, something loud and violent. The energy discharges were old-- but when time travel was involved, how old is old really?-- and Rip didn’t seem concerned by the damage done.

“It seems easy enough for folks to break in,” said Blue Beetle.

They entered a darkened room where a hundred metres away, a column of light illuminated a futuristic control panel with lines of blue metal headed out into the darkness. Before Beetle could take another step forward, Rip grabbed his arm. The others stopped in their tracks.

“What is it?” asked Cyborg.

“The folks who tried to break in,” said Rip. “The main security system is down, but this room… it’s a bit different.”

“Vic, switch to infra-red,” said Mister Miracle, sensing a strange smell in the air.

Cyborg’s eyes shifted from blue to red and he took a step back in shock. “Jesus--!”

“And for those of us without the benefit of super-robot-sight?” said Beetle, squinting into the dark.

“‘Excelsior’,” said Rip. On cue, lights began to loudly crack on overhead, revealing a floor covered in half-sunken, fully-petrified men, woman and the odd child, some dressed garishly, some more clearly super-villains. “The stockade protects itself. You have to move past that--” She gestured toward the petrification floor. “-- To get to the weapons. It turns matter to stone. A fate worse than death.”

“So everything we’ve seen so far is, what, the lobby?” said Blue Beetle. “How do we get over there?” He pointed at the control node. “I assume that’s where we need to be?”

Ted realised Rip was already standing at the node, somehow travelling a hundred metres without making a sound. She shrugged and called over to the others. “Well, I did say the password.” She typed into the node and the floor descended leaving her column at the same level.

“I thought there was no power,” said Cyborg.

“This room runs on the stolen electrical charge taken from the petrified,” said Rip. “Self-sufficient.”

Mera watched the petrified go down into the dark and she could have sworn she saw their eyes twinkle in fear. A bridge formed from where the Justice League were standing over to the node, and they quickly regrouped.

“C’mon,” said Rip. The team descended and entered another hallway. About midway down the length of the space, a thick, gelatinous substance had filled the hall, blocking their progress. “What is that…?”

Mera reached out with her abilities and could feel enough water present in the mix to manipulate it. “I can get it out of our way.”

“Please,” said Rip. Mera did so, parting the fluid down the middle, and the League moved through.

The team entered the main weapons room. In the centre was an empty display case. All around the room were empty display cases. Across the floor were discarded bombs, weapons, anything that looked interesting but wasn’t what Tempus actually wanted.

The main exhibit was torn open. Blue Beetle scratched his nose. “How come this place looks like a museum?”

“That’s what it used to be,” said Rip. “One time’s museum is another’s armoury. We chrono-lifted the entire place out of its timeline and rooted it in a place outside of time-- a place where no one could normally travel to unless they’re on a special list. Apart from, maybe, the guy who the museum was dedicated to…”

Blue Beetle glanced around. Faded and grey, barely visible but there nonetheless, were lightning bolts etched into the walls. “…Was this a Flash Museum?”

Rip ignored him. She was kneeling down in front of the empty main exhibit. The panel that identified the thing it once held was torn up, but she picked it up, wiped a hand over the battered metal, and watched it revert back to an undamaged state. “Micro-reversions, good for digging up--” She blinked as the name of the thing jumped out at her. “Oh, crap.”

“What is it?” asked Mister Miracle.

Tempus pilfered from numerous caches,” said Rip. “Time Locks, Chronal Dopplers, Dragons’ Teeth… but this…” She held up the sign that read CHRONOVORE. “…A sentient bomb that eats time. God, but… but it was never supposed to be used. It’s… it’s activated in the future, and the Justice League… the original seven… they’re meant to stop it before it goes off… it…” She slapped a hand across her forehead. “Tempus is messing with a fixed, required point in time! The Justice League need to stop this thing from going off, but he went and set it off before its time and the bomb ate the original seven instead of saving them--”

“Then we go back and stop it,” said Mister Miracle, not following half of what Rip was saying. “We’re the Justice League. We’ll do it. Everything’ll be fine.”

“No, no, it’s not that simple,” said Rip. “Handling the Chronovore, putting it back in its cage, it does something to their timelines, it makes them stronger, harder for… for things like this to happen… it solidifies time around them. Why else do you think the timeline doesn’t crumble into dust when Nekron steps foot in reality? When the Legion of Super-Villains travels back in time to when your friends were in the crib? The very nature of the Chronovore means it secures their existence… but if Tempus detonated it earlier, before it should have…”

“We can make this right,” said Cyborg. “This isn’t the end. We can figure out a solution. Is there anything else we can do here? We should get back to the others…””

Mera nodded. “This… Tempus… he came here first, after his escape, to get the weaponry he needs to end the world. So we’re close, we’re behind him, and we can catch up.” She put a hand on Rip’s shoulder. “Never give up hope.”

At that moment, the security system reactivated. The gelatinous wall that Mera had parted came apart, rushing past their feet in a wave, sending all the confiscated weapons into vents hidden at the side of the rooms until moments such as this. Blue Beetle gagged, the smell of the water-substance filling his lungs. “What is that?”

Rip had gone pale. “Marker fluid. Oh, no.”

There was a moan down the corridor where they had walked down, and then the sound of impact. Things smashing down from on high. Again and again. Cyborg switched to infrared and saw the petrified bodies of the people who had previously tried to break in pour down the corridor.

“We might have a problem, our exit is blocked,” said Cyborg.

“This is a dead end,” said Rip. “We’re trapped. We… I didn’t think…”

“What is it?” asked Mera.

“The security system uses those who invade the stockade as a deterrent as well as an actual weapon,” said Rip. “The petrification floor freezes them in place, and then the system inserts a Dragon’s Tooth into their bodies, deactivated until required. When the security system--” She looked around and noted that Mister Miracle’s costume was laying empty on the floor. “What happened to Mister Miracle!?”

Before anyone could search for their teammate, the petrified began to stand. They were cracked, damaged, but they began to stand up. Their eyes were blank now, no more fear, only the overt control of the security system. The first of them spoke with a creaking, growling voice. // You // should // not // be // here //

“It’s me, it’s Rip Hunter,” pleaded the time-traveller, “I’m allowed to be here! I’m supposed to be here!”

// Security // systems // still // active // Identity // invalid // Prepare // for // containment //

The petrified surged forward and Cyborg ripped into them with his white-sound cannon, while Blue Beetle blasted at them with his BB Gun. Mera was able to drag all the available water up and threw it like daggers at the lurching hordes and Rip had her plasma blaster, but for as many as they felled, more took their place.

“There’s too many of them,” said Beetle.

“You’re all such pessimists,” said Mister Miracle. He was stood naked behind the petrified, his body obscured by the horde, his only accessory the Mother Box strapped to his arm. “But there’s always a way out.”

“What are you waiting for?!” asked Cyborg. “Help us out, man!”

Mister Miracle laughed. “The water on your bodies! It’s leading them right to you! Mera, you need to remove all traces!”

With a nod, Mera extended her hand and then clenched it into a fist, all the water molecules stuck to the bodies of the Justice League now withdrawn and in a cloud above the petrified. She released her hold over it and the water fell like rain atop the petrified, and they started clawing at themselves until their frenzy left none standing.

With the Justice League safe, Mister Miracle began to pull on his trousers. “Nice work, guys.”

“How’d you get over there?” asked Cyborg.

“I went down that grate,” said Miracle, motioning to where the weapons had been sent down. “Mother Box removes all foreign matter from my clothes-- she projects a kind of… clean field, like any good mother-- and I doubled back around and popped up. Just because this place isn’t the museum it used to be, doesn’t mean the air ducts aren’t still under the flooring.”

“And you got naked why?” asked Mera.

“I’m a showman,” said Mister Miracle, affixing his mask. “Now, let’s get out of here. The others are probably worried sick.”

YEARS AGO:

THE DAY AFTER THE APOKOLIPS IMPERATIVE ENDED:

GOTHAM CITY:

Tempus walked through the hospital, smiling as he went. No one questioned him, no one looked at him, but he knew what he was looking for and all the technology he’d secreted on himself meant he would find his quarry, no problem. The hospital was bristling with activity, the walking wounded littering the halls of Gotham Hope and Mercy, but this was the point in time he needed to be in, so who was he to question the hell that rained down on Gotham City over the last few days*? They got over it, didn’t they? Eventually?

*Gotham City was occupied by the forces of Apokolips during The Apokolips Imperative back in 2006

“Oh, nurse,” said Tempus, leaning across the nurses’ station. “I’m looking for Gareth and Lauren Templesmith.”

A drained-looking nurse turned to Tempus, with his pristine suit and wicked smile, and shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re unable to divulge that information right now, sir. As you can see--”

“I don’t have time for this.” Tempus’s eyes glinted and he waved his hand in front of the woman’s face. “Where is Lauren Templesmith?”

The nurse perked up and smiled broadly. “Oh, she’s in the maternity ward, bay 7.”

“Why thank you,” said Tempus, gliding off with his answer.

“Who was that? A doctor? Dressed well considering the warzone outside,” said one of the other nurses.

The first nurse shrugged. “Oh, you know, a darn nice guy.”

Tempus entered the maternity ward and saw it littered with overflow from the rest of the hospital. There was one sealed off bay, number seven, and he smiled as a man emerged from it, looking tired but proud nonetheless.

“Are you Gareth?” said Tempus, as the man went to move past him.

“Yeah, that’s me,” said Gareth. “Sorry, I need to go speak to one of the nurses. Our son,” he paused, beamed, proud to say those words, “he just got to sleep and I wanted to-- hey, who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Tempus clasped a hand around Gareth’s shoulder and Templesmith passed out into his arms. In one fluid motion, Tempus placed Gareth into a nearby wheelchair and then abandoned him, heading toward the curtained-off area where Lauren Templesmith would be waiting.

“Hello!” said Tempus, his voice an obnoxious level higher than it ever needed to be. “How are you feeling today?” He picked up her chart and began to flip through it, not really paying attention to what was on the pages.

“Uh, fine, considering,” said Lauren, cradling her child gently as Tempus loomed over her. “I mean, err, are you a doctor?”

“What a beautiful bouncing baby boy,” said Tempus, taking the newborn child away from its mother in one tug. “May I?”

Lauren was surprised by the act and jerked forward in her bed. “Give me him back! Who-- who are you?”

“I think you know who I am,” said Tempus, cradling the baby gently. “I’ve come a long way to meet your son, after all.”

Lauren shook her head. “I don’t know who you are, please, give me back my son, I don’t--”

“Rude.” Tempus tutted. “That’s not right.” He raised his hand in front of the woman’s face and waved it around, and then Gareth entered the bay.

“I just had the weirdest nap,” said Gareth, before noticing the dazed expression on his wife-- and the absence of their son. “Lauren? Where is he? What happened?”

“A man took him,” said Lauren calmly. Tears were streaming down her face but she didn’t look sad.

“Who?” Gary opened the curtains to the bay and looked around, but could see no sign of his son, or the man who took him. “Where? Where is he?”

“A darn nice guy, that’s who took him,” said Lauren. “A darn… nice… guy…”

N2 BILLION YEARS INTO THE FUTURE:

Rip Hunter and the members of the Justice League she’d taken into the Infernal Stockade emerged out onto the plain where the others waited, and they quickly compared notes. Oddly enough, waiting around in a graveyard of bones wasn’t any trouble, but it was creepy as hell and they were itching to get out of there.

“What’s the plan?” asked Mister Miracle.

The Guardian was silent. “We stop Tempus and save our timeline. I’m still working on the particulars.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Rip. “Now, let’s get out of here, I need to get some space between us and this mess,” Followed by the others, she clambered into the Time Sphere and powered up the engines. As they revved up, the engines immediately began to grind and whirr, until they fell silent once again. “What… in…?”

“Something’s wrong with the engines on this thing,” said Beetle. “Because it sure as hell didn’t make that sound on the way here.”

The Justice League’s attention was drawn to a man standing outside atop the field of skeletons, who waved warmly at them.

The man known as Tempus was smiling all the while.

“What is he doing?” whispered Rip.

“Is that him?” asked Cyborg.

Big Barda had already disembarked, her gut giving her all the answer she needed. “You are done here, villain.”

“And you’re the one to smite me?” said Tempus.

Barda took a step forward, swung her mace back and sent it flying down toward the face of Tempus.

“No--” Rip realised what Tempus had done a second too late-- Big Barda swung her weapon down across the back of Big Barda’s head, as two of versions of the New God appeared in the same moment. She fell silently to the fall as her duplicate faded, and Tempus just laughed.

“Did you like that?” asked Tempus. “It’s called a Chronal Doppler. Sends a localised reverberation out into the time--” He laughed. “Oh, you don’t care.”

Cyborg fired off a salvo from his white-sound blaster and Tempus shrugged it off, a shimmer of light appearing across his body and fading when the attack was done. Mister Miracle had extradited his wife from the time-travelling villain’s feet and was currently checking on her with Blue Beetle.

“That isn’t going to work, I’m afraid,” said Tempus. “I have an appointment in the 21st century, many deaths to arrange. You won’t be joining me. The Time Lock in your engine will see to that.”

“Stop this,” said Rip. “You’ll break the timeline in two, it won’t heal… even if you secure your own existence, it won’t be one worth having…” The desperation in her voice was clear. She took a step forward but Tempus shook his head and tutted. “…You can’t do this…”

Tempus chuckled. “I can and I will. I don’t care about the 21st century. Time heals. I killed an entire race of beings an hour ago. I changed every century after. Time abhors a vacuum, so something will grow in place of the Justice League. These pretenders don’t have a hope. Neither do you.”

“Tempus is wearing some kind of personalised force field,” said the Guardian in a whisper to Doctor Light. “But he can still see.”

“Light can get in,” said Doctor Light. “I understand.” She ran a hand through her hair and closed her hand when she was done, ready to point her finger and level it at the villain with a laser-focus. She just had to pick her moment. Blue Beetle smiled. He wanted to see this man put in his place.

“I tried reason,” said Rip. “I really did. What comes next is on you. I’ll finish the job the Pantheon started. I’ll get out of this and I’ll end you.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you will,” said Tempus. “I not only came here to brag, but also to deliver some poetic justice.” He held out his hand, revealing a small cloth sack. “Do you recognise these?”

Doctor Light took her shot. Tempus cried out as an invisible beam of light energy struck him in the chest, sending the sack in his hand flying and burning through his clothes and into his flesh.

“No!” cried out Rip as the sack scattered across the ground, the razor sharp teeth inside spreading across the field of bones.

Tempus clutched his side and grimaced. “You… you… I will ruin you… I will murder your children… and make you… wish… for death…” He began to fade from existence, his body smoking. “But I’ll start… with… the Justice League…”

Mister Miracle looked over at Rip Hunter, who was desperately clawing at the ground where the teeth had fallen out of Tempus’s sack. “I need a hand over here--”

Rip looked up at him, fear in her eyes, and when the first skeletal hand reached out and grabbed her, she knew she’d failed. Doctor Light blasted the limb away from Rip, but more hands reached out of the ground as the fallen legion of time travellers began to rise up, all thanks to the contents of the spilled sack.

“Dragon’s Teeth,” gasped Blue Beetle. “Holy crap, like back inside-- like Jason and the freaking Argonauts-- they’re reanimating--”

Rip nodded. “Everybody.”

“Can you get the engine fixed?” asked the Guardian, shoring up with the team around the Time Sphere.

“I-- yes-- yes, of course--” said Rip. The skeletons stood, wearing the tattered remains of their costumes and clothing. Blue Beetle gasped as he saw the remains of Booster Gold lurch forward, followed by a half dozen different speedsters. Whatever magic or science was inside the Dragon’s Teeth, they didn’t have their powers, but they were once again outnumbered, with nothing to draw the skeletons’ attention back on themselves.

“Kord, get in the Sphere and help her,” said the Guardian. “The rest of us-- let’s stop these things from tearing us to bits!”

Rip Hunter and Blue Beetle clambered inside and opened up the Time Sphere’s engine. Immediately, they saw a tentacle-laden device leeching into the mechanics of the drive used to travel through the timestream. There was a message burned into the inside of the panel they’d lifted up. Did you enjoy Reykjavik?

“The bastard-- he must have snuck this in when I was stuck in the Crystal Pantheon,” whispered Rip. “It’s so far off time travel, we’re not going to be able to get this out for… god, it could take months…”

“Can we travel at all?” asked Beetle. “To get clear?”

“One jump, maybe, back… back a decade? But we’d be here-- but if a decade--” Rip paused. “Get clear of the ship! Quickly!”

“What? You need help-- I can--”

Rip pushed Ted out of the Sphere and then pushed the levers down that powered up the ship. The Time Sphere vanished immediately, leaving the Justice League marooned outside the Infernal Stockade.

FIVE MINTUES AGO:

Tempus clutched his side and grimaced. “You… you… I will ruin you… I will murder your children… and make you… wish… for death…” He began to fade from existence, his body smoking. “But I’ll start… with… the Justice League…”

Mister Miracle looked over at Rip Hunter, who was desperately clawing at the ground where the teeth had fallen out of Tempus’s sack. “I need a hand over here--”

Rip looked up at him, fear in her eyes, and when the first skeletal hand reached out and grabbed her, she knew she’d failed. Doctor Light blasted the limb away from Rip, but more hands reached out of the ground as the fallen legion of time travellers began to rise up, all thanks to fallen sack.

“Dragon’s Teeth,” gasped Blue Beetle. “Holy crap, like back inside-- like Jason and the freaking Argonauts-- they’re resurrecting--”

Before Rip Hunter could respond, the Time Sphere vanished. In its place materialised another Time Sphere, panels removed, wires exposed, but working nonetheless. From inside the Sphere emerged Rip Hunter, older by a number of years and looking half-starved and covered in oil and dirt. “Took me… long… enough…” She stumbled over to Rip, grabbed her hand and the two of them screamed as her older-self vanished, absorbed into her younger-self.

“What just happened?!” asked Mera.

“Ah, god, god, everybody get inside, we can get clear,” said Rip.

“What about the Time Lock?” asked Beetle, as the Justice League climbed inside the Time Sphere.

“A version of me from the future repaired the ship-- took her a couple of years-- and sent her version of the Time Sphere back to the moment-- anything’s possible in a place outside of time--” said Rip, as she activated the ship and extradited the Justice League from another near-death experience. “The two of us couldn’t occupy the same space for too long so she let herself be absorbed into me… I remember her loneliness… her determination… we need to make sure it wasn’t for nothing--”

“But what’s next?” asked Cyborg. “You said you need the Justice League-- the original seven-- but they’re gone-- how do we get them back? How can we save the timeline?”

“What-- what hit me?” murmured Barda, as she roused from her unconsciousness. “They hit like a meteorite--” Mister Miracle kissed his wife on the temple and she winced, but patted him on the shoulder. “Is the battle over?”

“I have a cunning plan,” said Rip. “We need to unite the Justice League before they ever met-- and I know just the points in time we can grab them from. You’re going to have to hold on tight, this is going to be a time-bender!”

[HoM]

PART THREE

THE PAST:

METROPOLIS:

Clark Kent looked at the costume his mother had made for him, at the blanket he’d been bundled up in when he was rocketed from the dying world of Krypton to his adopted home planet of Earth, and considered the last few days. Clark had only been in Metropolis for a few days before he eventually teamed up with his childhood hero, the World’s Mightiest Mortal aka Captain Marvel, to defeat the horrifying threat that the press had labelled as ‘the Parasite’.

As Clark held the blanket-- still big enough to wear, like it had grown with him-- emblazoned with the crest of the alien family who he never knew, he remembered something Captain Marvel said to him with that big smile of his: “In my experience, they trust you more if you wear a cape.”

The extent of the battle was staggering-- from Metropolis to Fawcett City, the property damage was extensive, a trail of bodies left in the Parasite’s wake, as well as hundreds injured after the villain took the combined energies of Captain Marvel and Superman himself.

“I don’t deserve to wear this yet,” said Clark. He tucked the costume into the secret compartment of his suitcase, locked it tight, then held in his hands the blue t-shirt he’d worn during his team-up with Captain Marvel. The symbol across the front was the same one on the blanket his Ma and Pa had found him in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t ready to be out there in the world, but he hadn’t achieved what he’d wanted, what he needed, and heroes didn’t deserve what they hadn’t earned.

Clark pulled on the t-shirt, laced up his boots and looked at himself in the mirror. “What did that reporter call me…?” He mused on the words that came out of the perfect mouth of that pale-skinned, purple-eyed, dark-haired journalist whom he’d saved from the space plane after Parasite first escaped captivity: “‘Superman’?”

There was a crackle in the air behind him, and Clark turned to see a transparent sphere materialise in his dingy apartment. He raised his fists, unsure of who or what this was, but the configuration of the craft resembled the one his childhood friends-- the Legion of Super-Heroes-- travelled in time with.

Could it be Cosmic Boy, Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl, come to give him a pep talk in his hour of need?

No such luck.

A man wearing gold and blue body armour, a shield strapped to his back, stepped forward from a gaggle of obscured figures, his hand extended in a peaceful gesture. He spoke slowly, seemingly unsure of what was the best thing to say in this instance. “Superman, my name is--”

Clark interrupted him, his natural curiosity answering the first question that might have come to mind. “I know you. You’re the Guardian. You’ve been a hero since the Second World War. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

James Harper, aka the Guardian, tugged off his helmet and clipped it to his belt. “It’s a long damn story, son. But if you want to save your future, you’re going to want to come with me.”

Clark hesitated, but he knew of this man. A super soldier with powers that made him the greatest asset in a war where the Justice Society of America were unable to operate overseas thanks to Adolf Hitler’s possession of the Spear of Destiny. He’d appeared sporadically since then, tours in Vietnam, marching alongside civil rights leaders and Amazing Man in the sixties, doing what he believed to be best for America, even if it clashed with the government of the time. This was a man he knew, in his heart, he could trust.

Clark took the Guardian’s hand and boarded the Time Sphere as it faded into the timestream.

THE PAST:

PARADISE ISLAND:

Diana couldn’t believe it. Her mother, her beautiful, wise mother Hippolyta, had forbidden her to take part in the Contest! The rite of passage for the Amazons of Themyscira to decide upon their new champion, their ambassador to Patriarch’s World, and Diana had been told she could not take part in it.

But why? Hippolyta knew her better than she knew herself, Diana sometimes thought. But she was ready for this. She believed she could do it. The helm in her hands was one of the many available to those taking part in the Contest. They were enchanted to hide the identity of the wearer, to ensure that friendship played no role in the results of the many tasks ahead of them. Diana had snuck into the armoury only an hour ago, and she knew that if she were to wear it, she would be going against the order of her mother. But surely there were more important things at stake than the relationship between a mother and daughter?

But if Hippolyta didn’t want her to take part, what did that mean? Did she think Diana unworthy of the task? Not up to the challenge? Did Hippolyta see something in Diana that she herself did not? Maybe her Queen, her mother, was right, and this was not the time for her to step out into the world. For all her curiosity, her drive, maybe she was too young for the task, and one of her ancient sisters, those beautiful, gifted Amazons who had all helped raise her, maybe they were the ones who would meet the challenge of the Gods…

Beset by doubt, Diana placed the helm on her bed and moved across her royal chambers toward the balcony. To look across Themyscira, in these early hours, perhaps that would settle her soul. As she moved across the floor there was a crackle in the air outside, and as she emerged on her balcony-- sword and shield in hand-- Diana saw a transparent sphere materialise in the open Themysciran air.

“Who are you? What do you want?” asked Diana.

Doctor Light emerged and tried to smile, but the woman before her was a hero, a legend, and her nervousness was clear. “My name is Kimiyo Hoshi. I’ve come from the future and I need your help. The entire world is in danger--”

“Ares--?” started Diana, the thoughts of the Contest still hanging in her head.

“No,” said Kimiyo, “something worse.” She extended her hand. “We need you, Diana. You’re the greatest of all of us.”

Diana had been granted many abilities at birth. Among them, Athena, her patron, granted her great wisdom. With that came eyes that could tell truth from lie. With that knowledge, and the weight of this stranger’s words, Diana knew that there was a great danger ahead, and if she was to be worthy of the Contest, of the mantle of ambassador, she could not turn her away.

Contemplating that mission of peace, Diana removed her shield and put down her sword. And then she boarded the Time Sphere, journeying into an unknown future…

THE PAST:

SOMEWHERE IN SOUTH-EAST ASIA:

Bruce Wayne held the ceremonial mask he’d earned in his calloused hands, his knuckles scabbed over and his body aching. The League taught him to lock pain into a box and slide it into place somewhere in the back of his brain. He’d come to learn pain management techniques from some of the best practitioners in the world before arriving in the Lazarus Pyramid, and every lesson learned helped right now. He could feel a rib floating loose, and if he was lucky, he’d only be urinating blood for a week, and not a month as he feared.

This was the final test of the League of Assassins. He’d fought some of the deadliest assassins in the world, and if he kept going, he would soon ascend to the upper echelons of the group by night’s fall tomorrow. Ra’s Al Ghul had praised his obsession, the fact he’d fought longer and harder than any others in the collection of prospective members who joined at the same time as him, nearly two years ago.

But as Bruce held the mask, the name it came with a whisper on his lips, he began to question what was next for him. He knew what the League of Assassins was capable of, but he also knew what he needed to be. What he had to become. Killing was never an option, but that was the final test. To locate someone who deserved the brand of justice the League of Assassins espoused and to deal it out.

But that wasn’t Bruce Wayne. He knew it in his bones. Even if he’d been given the name of Tengu, a demon’s name, that wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

The hairs on the back of his neck sprung to life as the air behind him began to crackle. In the modest quarters he’d been granted for the duration of the trials, a shape began to form, and out of the speedily-forming sphere, a figure emerged.

The man, clad in scarlet, emerald and brightest yellow, smiled warmly as he extended his hand. “I know you want to get out of here, so why not hop on board and help us save the world?”

“Who are you?” The man was familiar to Bruce, something stirring in the vault of childhood memories that he tried to keep locked down, but he couldn’t place him. “How did you get in here?”

“I’m Mister Miracle, and I’m from the future-- your future. The world is being threatened by a force beyond time and we need your help.”

Mister Miracle! Bruce remembered an event he attended as a youth with his parents, headlined by Thaddeus Brown, the miraculous Mister Miracle. Was this man him? Bruce remembered-- and the memories arrived with a pain and weight he tried to ignore-- Brown to be stockier, his costume to be more intricate, studs and pockets everywhere. This man was younger, slender, but there was something in his blazing blue eyes that struck him, and he couldn’t help but feel compelled to help.

Placing the Mask of Tengu over his face, Bruce stepped into the Time Sphere, as it faded from existence.

THE PAST:

OUTSIDE EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, CALIFORNIA:

Yesterday, Hal Jordan had died. He could still remember how it felt to have his life snatched away from him when a UFO collided with his experimental fighter jet and sent them both careening to the desert floor. But at the brink of death, the ring on his finger, this weird, alien piece of jewellery, had dragged him back into the land of the living.

Hal looked at the ring on his finger and had no idea what to make of it. He was on the edge of an airfield, just like the ones his dad used to take him to when he was a kid. He examined the ring and how it glinted in the moonlight, allowing it to transform his civvies into the uniform that came with being a member of something called the Green Lantern Corps and back again.

“Holy Hannah, this is way too much!” said Hal, the enormity of his situation hitting him. He removed the ring and threw it across the sands. It landed with a plonk next to an outcropping, and he watched it for a while. “I’m just a pilot. I’m not some kind of… alien peace keeper. Three billion years of them, and it… chose me? I mean…”

Hal looked up to the stars. “It’s too much.” He pulled himself up and wandered over to the ring. “Way too much.” He picked it up, began to pocket it, when the air behind him began to crackle. He slipped the power ring onto his finger, let the Green Lantern Corps uniform flow across his body, and aimed his fist at the sphere that emerged.

“Uh, hello,” said Blue Beetle, appearing out from inside. “Hal Jordan, right? Newly vested member of the Green Lantern Corps?”

“How do you know my name?” asked Hal.

Beetle smiled. “I’m from the future. Plus, you’re not wearing a mask. You need to remember to add one to the costume by default, some GLs don’t have a secret identity.”

Hal was astounded. “There are-- you’ve met--?” How did this man know so much about him? “Who are you?”

“I’m Blue Beetle, but you call me Ted, or idiot, like in a year or so,” said Beetle, shrugging, “I’m from the future, one that won’t make it unless you come with me now. To save us arguing, ask your ring this: ‘Is this guy telling the truth?’ and maybe, ‘is he really from the future?’. Oh, and, I’d like to know if I’m the fairest of them all!”

Hal smirked, shook his head, and looked down at his ring. “Is he telling the truth?”

<Subject’s heart rate and brain chemistry suggests he believes he is telling the truth,> replied the ring.

“And can he… is he from the future?” said Hal.

<Object in proximity to subject is recognised as ‘Time Sphere’, device used for travelling through timestream without damaging extant reality.> The tone of the ring began to change. <Green Lantern Hal Jordan. You have not yet been trained in usage of your power ring. It is ill-advised to continue without it. Green Lantern Corps mandate dictates that connection to the Book of Oa will be severed during travel, to prevent corruption of data.>

“Are you coming?” asked Beetle.

“Of course I’m coming,” said Hal. “Sorry, ring. You’ve been overruled. Gotta answer the call to adventure.”

THE PAST:

MARS:

Two had survived the fiery end of the Martian people. J’onn J’onzz, their finest Manhunter, and his dread twin brother, the poison-minded Ma'alefa'ak J'onzz. It was Ma'alefa'ak who had unleashed the pyro-pathic mind plague called H’ronmeer’s Curse against the peoples of Mars. Billions had died, including J’onn’s wife and children. The monster delighted in the death he’d caused.

After a decade-spanning battle that ravaged the face of the planet, J’onn had managed to chain his mad brother in the deepest vault of Mars beneath the dead volcano that would later become known as Olympus Mons to the people of Earth, in chains composed of pure inerton, a metal with radioactive properties that made it impossible for a Martian to shapeshift or become intangible while wearing them.

J’onn wandered the dead world of Mars for so long that time became meaningless. He found no survivors. Any who had locked their minds from the psychic plague had immolated themselves in grief.

There was nobody left. Just two brothers, locked on a dead world with one another. J’onn was his brother’s keeper, doomed to live out a life ensuring none released the monster he had bound. But sometimes, just sometimes, that young blue and green dot across the void of space, visible using the remains of the Martian stellar telescopic array that had been built atop the Hellas Planitia, caught J’onn’s eye. The people there were young. Innocent. He sometimes wondered if it wouldn’t be better if he rid the universe of the taint of his brother, and of his own guilty self, and let this young new race become the masters of the solar system that the Martians had once been.

J’onn turned toward Olympus Mons and calculated the journey. He considered the ways in which he could end his brother’s life. And then, before further morbid thoughts could creep into his wounded psyche, he felt the air crackle in front of him.

Slowly, a sphere of light appeared, and from it, a human man, half composed of machinery, stepped out into the vacuum of space. He held out a hand and looked at J’onn with earnest eyes.

J’onn accepted the hand of the stranger, and vanished into the timestream.

THE PAST:

AMNESTY BAY:

Arthur Curry had learned that when one discovers one is a man of two worlds, one below the sea and one above, you go a bit crazy for a while. The Atlanteans that claimed him as their King had searched high and low for him, but he had so far managed to evade their searches. Psychic messages left by a man called Vulko pleaded with Arthur to come down to the sunken city, to assume the throne, but the enormity of it was terrifying to him. He was just a guy. Up until he discovered his heritage, he’d lived above the sea, feeling out of place, sure. Feeling weak unless submerged in water. But when everything--

“Ah, god,” whispered Arthur. He ran hands through his hair, having shaved in his childhood home, the lighthouse he was raised in, an hour or so earlier. He was nervous, and the young face staring back up from the water did nothing to calm him down. He had to make a decision. He had to make a choice that would affect him for the rest of his life. He could keep running, leaping from one bad situation to another, or he could take the fight for truth down beneath the waves. He could--

The air in front of him, above the water, crackled. Arthur jerked up. Another Atlantean recovery team sent to bring him back? He grabbed his trident, the one he found, the one that led to him discovering his true nature, and gripped it with two hands. It crackled with power, inscribed with words in a language he didn’t understand, but when he held it, the tip began to throb, like it was connected to his heartbeat.

A beautiful redhead wearing a form-fitting one-piece outfit emerged from the now-materialised sphere that floated above the water, and she looked him up and down. “Well, don’t you look young.”

“Who are you?” asked Arthur. “You will tell me--!”

“Arthur, when was that tone ever going to work with me of all people?” asked Mera. “Where are we?” She looked around. “Amnesty Bay? Where you grew up? And the state of you now… they’re looking for you, aren’t they? The Atlantean military?”

“How did you-- who are--?“ Arthur was completely thrown by this woman. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met, spoke with a confidence and intent that stirred something inside him. “They’re always after me.”

“It’ll end soon,” said Mera. “I promise you that. And then we’ll meet for the first time. But before then, before our moment, we need to secure our future.” She held out her hand. “Arthur, please, come with me. I know you don’t know me--” Arthur took her hand and Mera gasped in shock. “-- You trust me?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. “There’s something about you-- something I feel when I see you-- if you need me to go with you, then what choice do I have?”

Mera smiled. “Let’s save the future.”

THE PAST:

NEVADA DESERT:

“Oh god oh god I’m going to die--!”

Screeching to a halt, Barry Allen looked around and realised he was nowhere near Central City. He looked at the desert floor and the trail of fiery footsteps that were quickly petering out from where he’d decelerated. He looked at his hands, at his feet, and thanked heaven that the friction-resistant suit he’d designed had allowed him not to burst into flames on this test run. He fell to his knees, kissed the floor in gratitude for not letting him fly straight off the ground and into orbit, and considered his options.

The suit worked. He had no idea about his powers, other than he could run really fast. Other things clicked into place. Hyper-attuned senses during running-- he’d ducked, dodged and dived past numerous obstacles during the run.

Barry held his hands out, blinked, and then covered his eyes in shock. His eyes! He’d forgotten goggles! But as he continued to blink, realised that he had no issues, no pain, no blindness, he made another guess about his powerset: Some kind of aura that prevented particles from tearing through his body during running.

The friction-resistant suit looked pretty and all, decked out in red and yellow, that fancy lightning symbol on his chest in honour of the only other man he knew of who could run as fast as he found himself able-- Jay Garrick, the Flash-- but was it actually necessary? Before he could continue to hypothesise about his latest discoveries, the air crackled and Barry jumped in surprise-- and time stood still. His body had kicked into some kind of slow-motion sensory experience, and he watched as a shape slowly, slowly, slowly materialised in front of him.

He considered running, but he could see a selection of garishly-clad figures inside the ship. He caught his breath, and began to think about speeding things up-- and as he thought that, the world clicked back into normal speed.

“Hello, Flash,” said the tall woman who emerged from the craft, “you are needed to ensure the future does not die.”

“…What?” said Barry. “The who?” He pointed at his chest. “The me?”

“We have come a long way, and we need to go further,” said Big Barda. She turned back to the others in the ship. “I don’t know why I’m the one speaking to him. I don’t understand why we had to--” She sighed and turned back to Barry. “Please. You are destined to become one of the greatest superheroes this world has ever seen, and this is the first battle you will need to win to realise it.” She extended her hand. “Come with us, Flash.”

“I like the sound of that name,” said Barry. He looked at his costume, then back at Barda. “I don’t really have a choice do I?”

“You really don’t,” said Hal Jordan, popping his head out. “C’mon, man. Places to go!”

OUTSIDE THE TIMESTREAM:

Rip Hunter had shifted the Time Sphere into cruise control and let the craft float upstream. Outside, colours of all description, and some that defied description, washed up against the curvature of the ship, but the lightshow was harmless, and part and parcel of the journey.

“So, is someone going to tell us what’s going on?” asked Clark. “I mean, you barge into my apartment, you know my secret identity, you know who I am, I’m only here because I know this man is one of the greatest who’s ever lived. The rest of you are strangers, and goodwill can only get us so far--”

“You’re Superman, right?” said Hal, as he pointed around the room. “And, uh, you’re the Flash, Wonder Woman, uh, I guess you’re Batman?” Bruce said nothing. “Martian Manhunter… the Aquaman… I’m new to this, but you’re some of the best damn heroes this world has ever seen.”

“I always forget you’ve not been doing this as long as the others,” said Blue Beetle. “But, yeah, Rip, do you want to do the honours?”

Rip nodded and cleared her throat. “I’m going to be honest with you all. This should never have happened. I’ve taken you out of the timestream and, if we make it today, I’ll return you to the exact moment you left. The reason I’ve done so… well, let me backtrack. My name is Rip Hunter and I safeguard the timestream. One of the greatest threats to existence, a sociopath by the name of Tempus, escaped custody and is currently in possession of one of the most dangerous weapons of mass temporal destruction ever created, the Chronovore--”

“And we’re here why?” asked Hal. “You folks look like you mean business, why us?”

“Because we already defeated this menace,” said J’onn, slowly, his grasp of the English language evolving as he interacted with these people. Rip furrowed her brow. “I apologise… Your thoughts are radiating…”

“So she’s telling the truth?” asked Clark.

“Yes,” said J’onn with a nod.

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, this hurts my head. But I know about the Martian Manhunter, I know the Guardian… you’re good men. If he says they’re telling the truth, they’re telling the truth. But what do you mean when you say we already defeated the menace? I’ve never met you folks before.”

“In the future, you unite to become the premiere force for good in the world-- hell, the solar system,” said Cyborg. Diana smiled at this, nodding slowly as she took in the scope of what was being discussed.

“Aren’t you a Teen Titan?” said Hal. “With his kid?” He motioned to the Flash.

Barry pointed at his chest and then at Cyborg. “My kid? What? I have-- I don’t--?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “It’s clear we’re not from the same points in time,” he said. “Let’s focus. Tell us what we need to know.”

“Sure, sure. Yes. There is a bomb waiting to go off and when it does it will fracture the timeline from point of detonation forward,” said Rip. “That’s why you seven are here. There are certain events in reality that need to happen. Like J’onn said, your saving the day from this threat is one of them.”

“So you’re saying we already saved the day?” said Hal.

Rip nodded. “Yes, but… Tempus has dragged the event forward. And used that to wipe your future selves from the equation so the Chronovore will never be stopped. He never factored in our willingness to go above and beyond to save the timeline.”

“So you know where he is?” asked Clark. He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Rip grimaced. “But understand this: I can’t help you. I didn’t back then, and neither did these people--” She gestured around the Time Sphere. “-- This is on you. All I can give you is this opportunity. Nothing more.”

The Guardian’s head swivelled around. “You never told us that! They’re not ready!”

Rip pulled a lever on the control panel of the Time Sphere. “They will be…” The ship dropped out of the timestream and plummeted to the ground below, toward the unformed Justice League’s greatest test. “…They’ve got no choice.”

[HoM]

PART FOUR

THE PAST:

METROPOLIS:

In the empty lot that would one day become the Justice League’s Metropolis-based headquarters, known to the world as the Hall of Justice, Tempus leaned back and admired his handiwork. His neck and chest were blistered by Doctor Light’s attack back at the Infernal Stockade, but the crystalline matter he took from Xx had already started to repair the damage.

Seven heroes were about to die. Right now, they were tying up loose ends in a far off galaxy, wrapping up the threat of Darkseid and the Apokoliptikan army. The world at home was on tenterhooks-- what was happening on the other end of the universe? Would they live?

Of course not, thought Tempus. You’re all going to die.

The Chronovore was a twisting, throbbing construct, black tentacles of slick blackness intertwining across its surface. Twinkling, scarlet spheres of light lined the thing, and it was preparing to begin its sole operation-- the devouring of a timeline. As it shifted into its final configuration, the movement stopped, the lights blinked to white, and it resembled a large, un-terrifying, black egg.

“Y’know, I couldn’t have planned this better,” said Tempus. “Rip’s trapped outside of time, the Justice League too dead to prevent their deaths, it’s all so perfect.”

Tempus was about to brag some more when he was thrown back by an immense blow to the jaw. He tumbled head over heels into a collection of building equipment, and was shocked to see a man who looked like Superman storm forward, a grim look of determination across his features.

“This-- this-- is impossible!” Tempus cried. “You can’t-- you can’t be here-- you’re impossible!”

“So I’ve been told,” said Clark.

Tempus cried out as Barry appeared behind him and grabbed his shoulders, vibrating at a speed that rattled his bones and caused him to vomit over himself, completely disorientating the time traveller. The crystalline matrix embedded in his body sparked and Tempus pushed Barry back, a temporal shockwave causing him to shift across town as the world turned with him stuck in space.

“I think I’ve shook him up,” said Barry, appearing behind Hal. “But that blow should have taken his head off. Some kind of forcefield?”

“Yeah,” said Hal. “Let’s see what I can do about taking that out of the equation.”

Hal aimed his ring at Tempus, but as the energy beam leaped from his ring and went toward Tempus, the time traveller vanished from sight and appeared behind the Green Lantern, smashing one of the Chronal Dopplers in his back. The feedback from Hal’s ring sent seizures through Jordan’s body, and he fell to his knees as he inadvertently fired a blast into his own back.

Tempus kicked him over and doubled over, sparks flying across his body.

“You’ve-- what have you done?” Tempus growled, looking at Barry. “Can’t-- focus--”

“The speedster has done something to confuse him,” said J’onn. “Tempus’s thoughts are wild, I cannot get a lock, but I believe he is unable to utilise his time travel abilities to escape from the area.”

“Where’s the guy in the bat-mask?” asked Arthur.

“Sneaking around in the shadows,” said Clark. “Don’t worry about him.” He glanced over at Diana. “Three of us, at once, we can take him.”

“Yeah, dog pile, that might just work, overwhelming him,” said Arthur.

“If you say so,” said Diana.

The three of them dove at Tempus, who saw the trio coming and vanished, appearing five metres to the right, not far enough to avoid being pummelled by the heroes. Clark locked his arms around Tempus’s body to hold him in place, and Arthur went for a shot to the face, but Tempus blinked and suddenly Arthur smashed his hand into Clark’s face as the Kryptonian and the time traveller swapped places.

Tempus laughed, but Diana grabbed him by the shoulder and hurled him into the dirt.

“Gah! My lord, woman! Can’t you--”

Diana wrenched Tempus’s arm up behind his back and he yelped, unable to move for fear of breaking his own limb in the action. “You will surrender. There is no--”

Tempus jerked backwards and a loud snap echoed out from his arm, but he managed to jump in time and was suddenly behind Diana, who held the Tempus of ten seconds earlier in an arm lock. HE smashed his fists on her neck, freeing himself from her grip, then vanished as his past self-overwrote his future self.

“You can’t-- shouldn’t-- be here! I have won!”

“The speedster-- the Flash-- his vibrations have caused Tempus problems with his time travel ability,” said Bruce, emerging from the shadows behind J’onn. “Can you tell him-- psychically-- to push him harder, again?”

“My psychic abilities allow for such a mind link,” said J’onn. “How did you--?”

Bruce had already vanished back into the shadows to plot what the next best thing to do was.

“Hmm,” murmured J’onn. {Speedster, your original attack on Tempus worked. The man in the shadows wants you to try it again, and push harder this time.}

Not questioning the alien voice in his head, Barry nodded and went for it, grabbing Tempus and changing his vibrational frequency, as if he were shaking a can of soda in a tight formation, hoping that the end result would be ending this battle. Tempus just cried out, his force field fluctuating, unable to keep up with the attack.

“Allow me,” said Clark, spinning the dizzy Tempus around and slamming his fists down onto the man’s head, knocking him out cold, the forcefield unable to dissipate the kinetic energy of the attack well enough to prevent him from losing consciousness.

“Well, that was easy,” said Hal, pulling himself up from where he fell. “I did all the heavy lifting, obviously.”

“Obviously,” said Barry, shaking his head. He arched his neck over to J’onn. “Good idea on the vibrations-- I can kind of see something about him, some kind of aura, it’s different to everyone else’s, by, I think, degrees.”

“Different timelines, different vibrations, perhaps,” offered Diana. “My sisters have theories on the nature of time. That is one of them.”

“Yeah? You’ve got a couple of sisters?” said Hal. “How about we--”

Bruce was quietly standing, trying to figure out how to defuse a bomb unlike any he had ever seen.

“How do we stop it?” asked Barry. A second later, he was shaking his head, looking distraught. “I’ve ran through every scenario, and I’ve no clue.”

The aura around the Chronovore shimmered as Clark approached. “It’s x-ray opaque.”

“We stopped it before-- in the future-- so we can do it again,” said Hal. His ring shone an ineffectual spotlight on the surface of the bomb, the energy of the Green Lantern unable to penetrate it. “C’mon, guys. Think.”

“We stopped it,” said Diana. “Together.” She looked at her hand then at the Chronovore as cracks began to spread across it. The machine looked like an egg-- and it looked like the egg was about to hatch.

Arthur raised his trident. “I could shatter it? Perhaps pre-empt the explosion?”

“No,” said Bruce. “Opening it prematurely would result in our destruction prematurely, of that much I’m sure.”

“How can you be?” asked Clark.

“In my gut,” said Bruce.

“That’s all we have right now,” said Hal. “Anyone else?”

“I don’t…” started Clark. “I could fly it into the Sun, or out of the solar system, I think… if I leaped high enough and got enough momentum…”

Again, Bruce shook his head. “You would only be allowing it to detonate further out. It’s a temporal explosion, not a geographical one.” He glanced over at the future Man of Steel. “Brave though.”

“Then do something!” said Hal. “Instead of--”

Without explanation, Bruce placed his hand on the egg. “We stopped it together,” He said, repeating Diana’s sentiment. A low hum began to sound from inside the Chronovore. Diana noticed the change in pitch and put her hand next to Bruce’s on the bomb, and again, the pitch changed. “And that’s how we’ll do it now.”

“It’s reacting to us,” said Diana. “And that sound-- like music--”

Barry was the third. “I can feel the vibrations-- they’re changing-- slowing down.”

The others joined their future teammates in the act, until all seven of them had a hand on the egg. The cracks began to seal, the hum was a warm melody, and soon enough, the Chronovore was deactivated, and Tempus thrashed about on the ground, raving mad at his defeat.

“You-- argh-- you can’t-- this wasn’t--” Tempus’s eyes widened. “Wait-- you-- “

Rip Hunter pistol-whipped Tempus and grinned as the future founders of the Justice League turned at her arrival. The Time Sphere was behind her, containing the future Justice League, their costumes scorched and torn, like they’d been through a war. In Blue Beetle’s arms was a baby boy, sleeping soundly.

Rip smiled. “I’ve been wanting to do that for centuries. Congratulations on saving the timeline, guys-- are you ready to go home?”

“Where have you been?” asked Arthur. “Who’s the kid?”

“It’s not like we were going to leave all the hard work to you,” said Rip. “Tempus kidnapped that little tyke from a hospital a few states over a few hours ago. The earliest ancestor he needed to ensure his survival, tucked away in a pocket dimension not too far down the timeline. We just went through an entire legion of-- ” Rip watched as Hal Jordan’s eyes glazed over. “--You know what, it doesn’t matter. I can take the kid back to his parents, keep an eye on him, make sure his babies don’t end up having babies that end up having babies that result in Tempus being born.”

“I need to return back to my time,” said Bruce. “What’s left for us to do?”

Rip took a remote control from her belt and pointed it at the Chronovore. It was enveloped in a sphere of blue light then blinked out of existence, the weapon whisked safely away from the 21st century.

“I’ll take you home now,” said Rip. “We gotta take this guy back to his folks, but then, the past is our future.”

“What?” said Hal.

“Nothing, nothing, time joke,” said Rip, as they clambered into the Time Sphere. “Not all of them land.”

OUTSIDE OF TIME:

Rip had frozen time and was currently returning Tempus’s earliest ancestor to his parents, leaving the Justice Leagues to chat amongst themselves. Hal and Barry had hit it off, while Big Barda and Mister Miracle were talking to J’onn. Clark had worked up the nerve to speak to the Guardian, while Mera was giving Arthur a look that he’d come to know when they met in his future.

Diana approached a seated Bruce Wayne, who held the mask of Tengu in his hands, looking morose.

“What is it about that mask that causes you such sadness?”

Bruce sighed. “I’ve been given this mask and a name. I’m trying to understand the implication… what the name means now that it’s mine. In my… present… I’m in a place I don’t think I should be. They call me Tengu, a demon, and everyone in that place is a demon, and after everything I’ve done… is that all I am?”

“Oh, no, certainly not,” said Diana, a warm expression spreading across her face. “Tengu aren’t demons. In the library on Paradise Island, there are so many books, and I know of the Tengu… yes, they were once harbingers of war, but that was centuries ago. Over time they became something else. Protective spirits. You shouldn’t feel as if you are what the name makes you. Names have many meanings. And you’re the one who gives the name meaning, not the other way round. You didn’t consider smashing that… Chronovore. You saw that it needed touch. Warmth. That’ not the act of a demon, is it?”

Bruce blinked. He almost cursed his own lack of confidence. He stood and turned to face Diana, who was still smiling. “Your contest will be tomorrow?”

“Yes,” said Diana.

“Mine too. But you… you will be the greatest champion your people could ever hope to have,” said Bruce. “Thank you. You’ve inspired me.”

Diana embraced Bruce, and Rip Hunter smiled as she boarded the Time Sphere, knowing full well what their possible future led to.

“First stop, the past…”

THE PAST:

AMNESTY BAY:

As Arthur stepped out of the Time Sphere, Mera grabbed his shoulder and spun him round. She pulled him close to her and kissed him, a long, drawn-out kiss that sent a message to the young man that he hoped he’d never forget.

“What was that for?” asked Arthur.

“I always wanted to relive our first kiss,” said Mera. “Now go, be the man you were born to be. Be the king of the seven seas. And maybe grow a beard. Women like a man with a beard… or so I’ve heard.”

The Time Sphere faded as Arthur was left standing on the rocks outside his father’s lighthouse at Amnesty Bay. The memories of his time in the future were fading, as Rip Hunter had told him they would, but the memory of that kiss lingered. He looked down at the clear waters and knew they held his destiny.

“Run forever, or turn and face them?” asked Arthur, stroking his chin.

The memory of Mera’s face began to fade, but her smile…

“Turn and face them,” decided Arthur as he dove into the waters. The trident in his hand throbbed, and he followed the pulsing feeling toward his destiny beneath the waves.

THE PAST:

PARADISE ISLAND:

Memories of her adventures in the future began to fade, but the words of that mysterious, masked man reaffirmed her own beliefs. Diana didn’t need him to say it, she knew it in her heart-- the Contest would be hers to win. She knew that she could bring peace to the Patriarch’s World. She knew she could be the ambassador the Amazons needed to bridge the gap between their world and the one outside the veil that surrounded their home.

Diana placed the mystical helm on her head and felt a tingle flow over her as her appearance was masked. No one would know until she removed it that she was their princess, their Diana. No one would treat her differently, no one would give her any concessions. With this, she could prove that she was worthy. Diana knelt and began to pray to Athena. She prayed that for the duration of the Contest, she would have the strength to become the Amazon’s champion, to become their Wonder Woman.

And the memories of her adventure in time faded, but she had everything she needed to be the hero she was destined to become.

THE PAST:

MARS:

J’onn J’onzz had seen wonders. A future. A future where he was to become more. And even though the traces of that memory began to fade after he arrived back on Mars, the grief that dragged him down alleviated ever so slightly. There would be no further death on this world. There would only be--

A flash of light struck the surface of Mars and J’onn J’onzz was dragged through space and time thanks to one man, Doctor Saul Erdel, and his miraculous machine. The destiny of the Martian Manhunter on Earth was secured, and the dead world of Mars was silent… apart from the continued, contorted shrieks of the monster locked beneath Olympus Mons.

THE PAST:

SOMEWHERE IN SOUTH-EAST ASIA:

“Not a demon,” whispered Bruce, removing the Mask of Tengu. “A guardian. A protector.” He crushed the mask beneath his gloved fingers, the voice of that beautiful Grecian woman fading from memory but the conviction in his heart holding true.

A life as a disciple to Ra’s Al Ghul was not a life he wanted to leave. The final test was soon, but he would change the rules-- it was no longer about a baptism of blood into the heart of the League. It was about the ultimate escape-- an escape from the darkness he’d allowed to consume him in this final stretch of training. He would need to get past the anointed members of the League. Those who lived the life of an assassin.

Bruce would need to defeat Ra’s Al Ghul, the final guardian of the Lazarus Pyramid… and then there was the journey home.

The prodigal’s return to Gotham City, and whatever came next.

Bruce Wayne’s hand curled into a fist. A smile formed on his lips. Whatever came next was his, and his alone. But he knew he had no choice but to be true to himself, and do the right thing. To face his demons and vanquish them, no matter the cost.

THE PAST:

METROPOLIS:

Clark Kent stepped out of the Time Sphere and into his old apartment, his costume still spread out across the bed. He’d just fought side-by-side with some of the greatest people he could have dreamed of, and that was his future? To not only fight the good fight but in the company of heroes like them?

Clark considered his costume once more, the one he felt terrified to wear for fear of letting someone down. But at the same time, if he could inspire hope like Captain Marvel did, if he evidently did in…

There was a sound on the peripheral of his senses, an explosion across town. He looked down at his t-shirt, jeans and boots, then at the costume. Any memory of his adventure into the future faded, but one thing was for sure. He wouldn’t fear the costume. He would earn it every day he wore that cape.

One super speed change later, and the Man of Steel, the Man of Tomorrow-- Superman himself-- leaped out into a brave new world, with nothing but excitement for what it would bring.

THE PAST:

OUTSIDE EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, CALIFORNIA:

<Temporal energy detected,> said Hal Jordan’s power ring. <Events recorded within power ring AI wiped. Link to Book of Oa restored.>

“What?” said Hal, looking back over his shoulder as something faded from view, just like his memories of the future. “Time what?”

<Unable to answer, please rephrase question.>

“Huh,” said Hal, completely at a loss for words. He watched as a plane soared over head and then considered what he would do next with the magic ring on his finger.

<Would you like to fly?> asked Hal’s ring. <Flight training is recommended to all new recruits to the Green Lantern Corps.>

Hal grinned. “Why the hell not?”

THE PAST:

NEVADA DESERT:

“Thanks for the lift!” said Barry, as the Time Sphere vanished from sight. He was still in the middle of the desert, which might as well have been a foreign country for all he was concerned. Barry checked his phone’s GPS and got a vague idea of where back home was. He memorised the directions and sprinted off.

What had they called him? The Flash? Like the Justice Society of America founder? It was a good name. He wondered if the man who used it before would mind if he tried it on for size? As Barry ran, he forgot about the future and focused on his present. There was so much to figure out about his powers, but he felt a confidence in himself that not only would he master his powers, but he’d thrive with them. But right now, all he had to do was run.

Barry Allen was the fastest man alive. And what a way to live that was.

EPILOGUE:

LAPUTA:

PRESENT DAY:

“Where are you going to take him?” asked the Guardian, looking at the ravaged body of Tempus as he twitched and moaned. His forcefield continued to short-circuit, alternating between sending shocks through his body and forcing the crystalline circuitry out from under his skin.

“There’s a rehabilitation centre on Venus in the 853rd century,” Rip chuckled, “run by the Amazons, if you’d believe it. I think there might be a bed for him there.”

“Nnnarrgh!” cried Tempus. “Make it-- make it-- get it off me--!”

“Not yet,” said Mera, “trust me. You deserve much worse.”

“This isn’t-- this isn’t the last-- you’ll--” Rip stunned Tempus before he could continue with his threat. “That’ll do, kid. Now, I won’t be long.” She pushed the Time Sphere into the timestream and vanished from view.

“Well, today was weird, don’t you think?” said Blue Beetle.

IN THE TIMESTREAM:

“Gahhh! I-- I know how-- how-- they stopped it,” rasped Tempus, gasping for breath,. “I… know…”

“I don’t care,” said Rip. She pushed the ship forward and the centuries flew by. Soon they’d be in the 937th century, a standing reservation for Tempus in one of the more severe prison cells in existence, temporal locked and unescapable. “The rest of your life is going to be hell.”

“They-- were able-- to stop it-- because one of them-- built it--” spat Tempus.

Rip grimaced. “Yeah. I’m not an idiot.”

Rip knocked Tempus out, and when he awoke the crystalline matrix had been removed from his body, his forcefield was no longer sending shocks through his system, and another man was with them, dressed in a prisoner’s uniform, his face hidden by a black bag.

“Who’s your friend?” asked Tempus. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh, no,” said the prisoner.

“Oh, no,” repeated Tempus, recognising the man’s voice.

“Oh, yes,” said Rip. The Time Sphere shook, the three of them were parked on the edge of a volcano and while the ship kept them safe from the outside conditions, the vibrations from the volcanic activity did make it through to their feet. “You pushed us too far, Tempus. Now I have to undo all the damage you did.”

Rip pulled off the prisoner’s bag and revealed a younger version of Tempus, prior to all his time travel shenanigans. “You can’t do this,” hissed the present-day version. “You can’t!”

Rip shook her head sharply. “Nothing you have done has impacted the timelines positively! I kill you now, there’s no butterfly effect! Entire times live and die and everything that was ever meant to be survives.” She took out her blaster and aimed it at his younger self’s head. “Any last words?”

“I’ve… killed billions…” said Tempus. “But I’ve created so many more. Every alteration I made to the timeline spawned new parallels, new alternatives, new tangents where people lived where before they died. You’d be killing them, too!”

“That’s the life I have to live,” said Rip. She pulled the trigger, killing the younger version of Tempus, and sending the present-day version screaming into non-existence. Her wristband immediately began to buzz, and she opened the communication channel. “This is Rip.”

“Rip, this is Matt Ryder--I’m with the rest of the Linear Men and we’re reading that a massive chronal event occurred and you were in the middle of it. The timeline has stabilised, but what happened? Why weren’t we informed? There was a false alarm at the Infernal Stockade, but we need information! Can you give us your report?”

Rip sighed deeply. Her friends were alive. The events of the last twenty fours were undone and the timeline was healing already. She wondered if the present day Justice League would remember their cross-time adventure, or if the memories would fade like they did for everyone else?

“I’ll be there in no time at all,” said Rip, as she holstered her weapon and activated the Time Sphere.

LAPUTA:

The Justice League were at home, resting up after the manic events that took place in the 31st century with the Legion of Super-Heroes. The Guardian had nowhere else to be other than on Laputa, waiting out in the rain for some niggling reason that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Before Harper could give up, what fleeting memories of needing to be outside fading, another Time Sphere materialised, and Rip Hunter poked her head out of the ship.

“I jumped a couple of hours, didn’t I? Hope you weren’t waiting around for too long,” said Rip.

“No, not at all,” said the Guardian. He scratched his chin, curiously. “I had almost forgotten… there was a man… he travelled back in time. We saved a child. You said you’d come back, and I knew you would…”

“Oh? Why’s that?” asked Rip.

The Guardian waved her off. “Ah, nothing, just a feeling.”

Even as the rain poured, the waves crashed against the buttresses that held up the protective wall surrounding the League’s island base. There was a chill in the air, and the Guardian watched as Rip flipped the collar of her coat up, to protect her neck from the cold.

“There’s coffee inside,” said the Guardian. “If you want to warm up?”

“Yeah… I should probably be going,” said Rip. “I try not to stick around in a timeline for very long. I just… didn’t want anyone thinking he’d won; you know?”

“Why don’t you stick around?” asked the Guardian. He thought she looked so sad, alone in that ship of hers. The rain had matted her hair down across her face, her fringe slapped sleek against her forehead. They were both soaked, but neither was going to complain. They’d both been through worse. He considered her words. He? Who was…? Then he remembered a man known as Tempus, though his face was a blur, and an adventure with seven of the greatest heroes in existence. How could he have forgotten?

“Ah, when you’re a Master of Time, you never feel comfortable in one spot. It’s the sea of time, that’s what calls to me,” said Rip, smiling as waves smashed down nearby. “But I can tell you have a question about all this. And now it’s just the two of us, feel free to ask. Please.”

How had she known? The Guardian cleared his throat. “Why them?” he asked. “Why did you choose the original seven from that point in their timelines?”

Rip smiled. “Couple of reasons, and I’m impressed you remembered,” she held out her hand and began to count on her fingers, “I needed to take them from a point before Tempus erased them from existence with the Chronovore.”

The Guardian shook his head. “You could have taken them from the moment before the Chronovore triggered. Or when the Justice League got back from the Source Wall after the Apokolips invasion. Hell, moments before the Apokolips Invasion even started, when they all knew each other, however vaguely. It didn’t have to be so… disparate. A Batman unsure of if he’s on the right path. A Superman unsure of his future. A Wonder… oh, Rip.” Something dawned on him. “They needed inspiration”

Rip nodded. “They needed hope. All of them. Without… without being the Justice League, they needed to be more than the sum of their parts. They needed to inspire hope in themselves and each other. Superman returns to Metropolis and assumes the cape and costume he was destined to wear, believing in the future. Batman rebels against the teachings of the League of Assassins and heads back to Gotham, ready to assume the mantle of the Dark Knight. Wonder Woman takes part in the Contest and emerges victorious. The Martian Manhunter has a new lease on life mere moments before he is teleported to Earth in the 20th Century. Green Lantern understands he is worthy of his ring, and the Flash worthy of his speed. Aquaman discovers in himself the strength to rule, and returns once more to Atlantis, and becomes the King of the Seven Seas. They found hope when they needed it the most. And isn’t hope really what the Justice League is all about?”

“You’re absolutely insane,” said the Guardian. “And it worked.”

“You have to be in this job,” said Rip. “I have seen horrors beyond your imagination. Plague realities. Things from out of time. Temporal collisions. Temporal collapse. Temporal-anything-that-is-awful.”

“But you guaranteed the birth of the seven greatest heroes this world has ever seen… by letting them meet before their time. If all this didn’t happen, would they still become who they were meant to be? Would the Justice League still form?”

Rip smiled. “C’mon, Jim. You know it’s never that simple. Now, if the taste of the atmosphere is right, it’s December 25th, in your present day. Why don’t we go and grab a drink? None of that coffee crap, doesn’t do anything for me. But I do have a bottle of Coluan bourbon in the sphere. The hangover is a deuce but the buzz is mind-bending.”

The Guardian smiled and nodded, and the two old friends headed into an unknown future. But at least, until the end of time itself, there would be a Justice League ready to face whatever came next.

THE END

Please take a moment and follow this link to let us know what you thought of this issue!