Green plains stretched out as far as the eye could see in all directions. Rolling soft grasslands, broken only by the occasional copse of wood or sparkling clear stream, winding its lazy way down through the countryside. Usually, all kinds of wondrous animal would be out and about, for it was eternally summer on this paradise world. The Bug-people would be harvesting their food and the cubs would be scampering and the fish in the rivers would be making their way downstream. And all would pay scant notice to the golden mass of Supertown on the distant Horizon, for usually New Genesis was a tranquil world indeed. Usually.
But now the skies burned flaming red and smoke poured from the city of gold, and the cubs were fleeing to their warrens and the Bugs to their caves, and there were no fish in the river for several of the rivers had been dammed to power the turbines that would pump energy to Supertown. Because Gods were captive on Apokolips so New Genesis must make war, and in the fields, standing on the surface of his world one last time before the battle cry went out and the host went to war, the Highfather of New Genesis stood lonely sentry, knowing full well he would never again return to this Heaven he had created.
He had been here only a few minutes but with a sigh, he made to leave- the army was making its final preparations and he had told Magnar he was slipping out here alone, and though the Captain had been confused, he had permitted it. Still, this last chance to savour paradise was over, and it was time to return. But even as Izaya prepared to summon the Boom Tube, he heard a strange noise and turned to see that another individual had joined him, this one who travelled without even the need of a Boom Tube, and he sat, as he always did, atop his floating Mobius Chair, face inscrutable as ever.
“Metron,” he said wearily. “I have no time for your games. There is to be war on Apokolips.”
“There is already war on Apokolips,” the Chronicler responded calmly. “I come to prevent you from killing yourself.” A slight smile came to Izaya’s face at that.
“I didn’t think you cared.”
“Neither did I,” came the sage response, and incredibly, for just a moment, Metron looked concerned. “But I’ve seen things which have caused me to reconsider, and…. I am atoning for something.” That made Izaya curious, but he did not press. Instead, Metron waved a hand. “No need for you to attack Apokolips- fate is inexorable. There is nothing you can do now but watch it all play out.” And at that, he hit an instrument on his Mobius Chair, and a full image sprang to life over the field, displaying exactly what was going on deep within Armagetto at that moment.
* * *
The gods of Heaven stood ready for war in Hell.
Mere hours ago, the three gods who glowed with faint golden light in the plaza in downtown Armagetto had all been captives, with nothing to look forward to but a life of torment, misery and crushing despair. Orion, the “Dog of War” and champion of New Genesis squatted slightly, tensed for battle, eyes roving. His red outfit was torn, his familiar helmet gone and he did not have his eternal companion, Mother Box, but he remained defiant, his scarred and cracked visage seeming even harder than normal in the crimson light of the firepits, his fists clenched. To his side, his younger friend and companion Lightray floated a few inches off the ground, his white-suited form crackling with golden energy, even his eyes glittering, and his face, so often creased in mirth or joy, was impassive, jaw set. And finally, there was the young god who had inadvertently freed them in making his own escape, the only being ever to escape the prisons of Apokolips, clad only in rags, seemingly ordinary beside his larger than life companions, with blue eyes peering out from underneath unkempt dark hair. All three were staring at the foes who had tracked them down.
“Six of them, two of us,” Orion wheezed. All three were out of breath after running since their escape.
“Three,” corrected Scott Free, the young escapee. Orion shot him a sidelong glance, scowling.
“I have no idea who you are,” he hissed. “You may not look like one of them but…” But his words were cut off when, with a keening roar, their opponents charged to battle. Giggling inanely, the green-haired and yellow-skinned Mad Harriet- who had given the cry- jumped from the platform which had delivered the warriors of Apokolips and bounded forward on all fours. The massive form of Stompa leapt next onto the ground with a heavy thud and began advancing slowly and deliberately. The gaunt Bernadeth slid cautiously behind Stompa, face twisted in a snarl, and the ever-lithe, tantalising Lashina took the other flank, curling her whip in her hand, a smile on her face in anticipation as she stared at Scott Free, who had sealed her in the prison during his escape. Floating above them without the platform, the dark form of Wunda came forwards, glowing with pale energy herself. Finally, with a bestial shout, the huge and animal-like Kalibak threw himself to the ground and ran forwards with surprising speed, shattering the ground as he threw himself into a shoulder charge.
“Lightray, deal with the flier, and see if you can’t get rid of Bernadeth. You,” he looked at Scott pointedly, “Don’t get in my way.” This was Orion’s element, the depths of war where he felt at home, and without waiting to see their responses, he gave a shout of his own and threw himself forward shoulder first, to meet Kalibak’s charge.
* * *
“Quickly,” Barda snapped, sprinting through the streets of Armagetto as fast as her armour would allow. Behind her, a squad of slavering Parademons rushed to comply. Faced with a crossroads, she dispatched the demons down one path and took the other. She could not allow the prisoners she had been guarding to escape, could not risk the ire of Granny. They were here, she would find them! The streets were deserted, all the inhabitants hard at work, and….
She heard a crashing noise and whipped around. It was followed by more crashes, and cracking sounds- and there, over the identical hovels, she could have sworn she saw a flicker of light. Them, surely, it had to be. Could someone else have discovered them? It would make sense, if Granny had sent forces by air they would find them with ease. Still, this was her responsibility, and she would deal with it. Perhaps in battle she could forget all her torn feelings of recent weeks. With a final check that the prisoners’ Mother Box was secure on her belt, she ran in the direction of the noise.
* * *
Orion and Kalibak slammed into each other with a noise like thunder. The shock of impact rippled through the air, momentarily throwing off the other combatants and sending deep cracks and tremors bursting through the ground. Kalibak had the best of the meeting and Orion was hurled to one side. Gritting his teeth, he leapt to his feet at once, and for a moment he circled his foe, light and dark, as their worlds had circled each other for an eternity, seeking an opening, a weakness.
Kalibak, not known for his subtlety, lashed out a surprisingly quick blow from one fist which Orion ducked, before he retaliated with a haymaker which sent even the monstrous Kalibak spinning off-balance. The evil god recovered before Orion could land another blow, and grabbed his adversary’s wrists, trying to crush them into powder in his hands.
“Dog of War?” he grunted. “HAH!” He spat in his foe’s face as he wrestled him, intensifying his grip, hoping to hear the splinter of bones, but Orion fought back. Using his opponent’s height to his advantage, he gathered himself up and let out a lashing kick with both legs that threw Kalibak back, allowing Orion to free himself. Scarcely was he free, however, when there came a pitched cry and Mad Harriet was upon him, giggling and slashing her claws insanely.
“You want to give up now, scared little boy?” hissed Lashina as she advanced side by side with Stompa on Scott. He was standing poised to move at any second, eyes darting between them, but a hint of nervousness was showing on his face- Lashina had been his tormentor for years, always determined to break him, and now she took another step forwards, her whip twitching in her hands as though she could scarcely wait to use it. “You’re going to be beaten into the ground, worthless little toad, and then, when there’s nothing left of you and you’re screaming for death, we will take you to our Granny and see if she possesses mercy….” she taunted him, smile growing, as he took a few cautious steps backwards.
“Don’t count on it,” chimed in Stompa helpfully with a pleased chuckle. Then, as one, they moved- Stompa feinted one way and then sent one foot crashing down onto the ground to send shockwaves through the ground towards Scott. As she did, Lashina gracefully flipped over the quake and lunged at Scott with a precisely aimed kick. Caught off-balance by the quake, it was all he could do to keep his footing and the kick took him straight in the chest, sending him crashing down to the floor, followed by a crack of the whip which caught him in the face, adding yet another blazing red welt to the mess of scars which covered his thin frame. Stompa was already pounding forwards to add another blow.
“We’ve trained for battle our whole life while you rotted in a cell,” Lashina mocked him. “You never had a chance.” But before either she or Stompa could strike, all three were struck by an explosion of energy, sending them to the ground for cover. Above them, floating in the sky, Wunda gave a shrill cry and conjured more power in her hands. They glowed a soft blue, and she threw it at Lightray, who retaliated with a blast of light that annihilated both beams.
“Die for Granny!” hissed the dark-skinned Fury. She looked young, younger than Lightray himself, and the thought sickened him somewhat but he could not allow that to distract him. Every moment was vital for survival, and even a second spent hesitating could-
With a cry, he managed to just about throw himself out of the sky and out of the way of a precisely aimed dagger which instead flew on to strike the wall of a house. He turned to see Bernadeth, her pointed teeth grinning at him as she aimed another dagger. He raised a hand to throw more energy at her, but as he did, a blast took him in the back and he fell to his knees in pain. All he had ever fought before were parademons, and he was not sure he could even survive much longer against two foes, let alone beat them. Orion, at least, did not seem worried, as he gave a bellow while clubbing Mad Harriet in the face. Lightray wasn’t sure he had ever seen his friend so happy.
Then he was brought violently back to the present as Bernadeth lashed out with a kick which he barely ducked, rolling aside to avoid a burst of Wunda’s. It was only a matter of time before they were, all three of them- even Orion- overwhelmed.
* * *
“My Lord!” The massive, black-stone door to the Throne Room of Apokolips opened and in came the form of Glorious Godfrey. His tousled orange hair and bright white robe seemed out of place in the deep shadow of the Throne Room, even as he tried to stem the flow of blood down one side of his face. “My Lord, I….” He was silenced by the raising of a single gauntleted hand.
Darkseid sat on the throne from which he ruled his kingdom of the damned, enrobed in darkness as always so that only the familiar twin flames of his eyes could be seen clearly. At one side, also half bathed in shadow, was Granny Goodness, leaning forward eagerly, her hideous aged face displaying a broad grin at what she saw. On the Dread Lord’s other side was his uncle, the commander of Apokolips’ fleet, the infamous Steppenwolf. There was a display screen sitting before the throne, and even from here, Godfrey could see that it displayed a battle in what appeared to be the Armagetto- he could make out the forms of Kalibak and that wretch Free among others.
Good, he consoled himself,
the little monster would soon be dead.“You’re looking the worse for wear, Godfrey,” Granny crooned, seeing him at last, never missing an opportunity to mock a rival. Godfrey fumed to himself, still enraged that the boy had dared defile his perfect visage.
“You need to train your pups better, Granny,” he spat viciously, a far cry from his usual charming self. “Lest they should all so easily snap their leash.”
“Be silent,” came the command from the shadows of the throne, and at once both bowed their heads, obeying. The lord of Apokolips leaned forward and at last his face could be seen, rock-like and devoid of any emotion at all as he watched Kalibak and Orion continue their brawl, eyes gazing at Orion intensely as though he noticed nothing else that transpired.
“It may not prove enough,” murmured Steppenwolf, for Mad Harriet was down now. The enemy were fighting well, and Orion had managed to beat the insane Fury to the ground. “Granny, take several squads of parademons down there and subdue them at once. Kanto…”
“…is already there,” finished Darkseid.
* * *
Stompa dove toward Scott and as she did, he rolled out of the way. Lashina let fly with her whip and he sprang over it, betraying a heretofore unseen agility, face drawn in concentration. Stompa reached out one thick arm and managed to grab his leg as he lunged away, but before she could do any more, he was out of her grasp, twisting like some sort of sea animal, and grinning at them.
In anger, Lashina aimed a high kick at him, but the young god easily ducked it and caught her leg, twirling her so that she fell onto the ground. In anger, Stompa aimed a punch at him which he easily jumped over so that it crashed into the wall behind him instead.
“Stay still, runt,” grunted the larger Fury, and she tried to cause another quake by stomping on the ground, but Scott used the wall of a building as leverage for a high jump that took him out of reach of the tremor so that he landed directly between the two. Wary, unwilling to fall for the old trick of charging and accidentally hitting each other, they circled him for a moment.
“I spent
centuries plotting to escape from that prison,” Scott said, an unusual hardness in his voice. “And you think I can’t escape from a fat Fury and a whore?” With a shout, both of them turned on him and he deftly leapt away. Stompa followed him bindly, so consumed with her rage that in her bull-like charge she failed to notice she was approaching the tremor she herself had caused…
…with a sudden cry of pain and surprise she fell forwards, wide enough to plug the hole without falling in but suddenly balanced precariously, unable to get up.
“Lashina!” she shouted dully. “Help me!” But before Lashina could do a thing, Scott sprang lightly onto her back and began boxing her in the head. He wasn’t that strong, and he had little experience fighting, but trapped and unable to fight back, she howled in pain as the blows came quick and fast, raining in on her. Then he paused for a second… and flipped backwards just in time to avoid a slice by Lashina’s whip. Landing directly behind her, he grabbed her wrists and forced them together behind her back.
“No! You pathetic little boy, you need to…” Lashina snapped at him angrily, but with a hard expression still on his face, he twisted both her arms, so that both her wrists broke with a crack. She gave a sudden cry of agony and fell to the ground in shock, whip falling from between her nerveless fingers.
“Lashina,” Scott addressed her, finally venting centuries’ worth of pain and torture and humiliation. “Shut up.” Then he kicked her so hard in the face that she collapsed, unconscious.
Above the raging combat, Wunda and Lightray continued their deadly duel as Bernadeth continued to keep up the pressure on Lightray, hurling knives and making occasional close attacks. The young god did not betray the concern he felt.
I don’t have any choice… he realised as the battle wore on.
I’m going to have to take a gamble or we’re all dead. And he turned to Wunda, jaw set, and…. did nothing. With another shriek, she hurled a colossal ball of blue light towards him, crackling with energy, but he refused to move as it came ever closer, refused to fight back, instead he closed his eyes and…. The energy gave a loud buzz and then for a split second it turned gold, before being absorbed into Lightray’s golden aura. Wunda’s jaw dropped in shock, and when Lightray’s eyes opened again, they were filled with new confidence.
It worked… it worked… He felt light-headed with joy. Once, years ago, Himon had hypothesized that his power over light might allow him to absorb and control light in all its forms, but he had always hesitated to test it, particularly on a battlefield where he would be dead if it failed. But now…
Wunda began to toss more and more power at him, firing beam after beam, but he merely smiled and drew it in, allowing it to enrich him, feeling himself grow stronger. Then he reached out, focusing himself hard, and suddenly blue light burst from her body, so that for a second she could not be seen at all, there was merely a colossal wave of light rushing into him. He drank it in, feeling himself crackle with power, drawing in more power, and then more, and more until…
…Wunda fell to the ground with a dull thud. A second later, he heard a knife whizz towards his head and without even turning, he disintegrated it with a burst of golden power. Then he whirled to face Bernadeth, who was looking at him, eyes wide, as he seemed to glow with ethereal energy far brighter than anything else on this dark world, drowning the skies in light. He raised one hand, and a massive beam of light burst from it, striking her down with a single hateful scream. Then the young god turned to the final confrontation.
Orion and Kalibak were wrestling in the centre of the plaza, each of them expending all their considerable strength. Kalibak was spitting insults from within his grizzled mane, eyes livid, while Orion fought back with an equally animal fury. They were grappling, each scrabbling for a purchase on the other, each of them fighting with pure brute force now. Kalibak’s fist crashed into Orion’s head and he began pounding it, drawing thick streams of blood from the battered god.
In response, Orion managed to bring his hands around Kalibak’s neck and began squeezing, squeezing as hard as he could. His eyes were bulging and in the red light of the firepits, he looked as bestial as his opponent, roaring incoherently, most of his uniform torn away by now. Elsewhere in the square, the battle was done but he still fought. He ignored the rain of strong, increasingly desperate blows on his skull, ignored the blood that was pounding inside his head and pouring from his many wounds, he focused all his rage and all his fury and frustration into the hands that choked his foe. Kalibak began beating at his arms, trying to dislodge him, long yellowed nails tearing more gashes in them, but Orion did not stop, he merely intensified his grip. The resistance became slower and slower, until Kalibak ceased altogether and slumped, but still Orion squeezed, deep in the battle rage, until…
“Peace, friend,” Scott put a single hand on his shoulder, and Orion let go and whipped around, and for a split second he seemed about to attack Scott as well before he took a deep, deep breath and began to calm.
“It’s over,” Lightray said quietly. Their six opponents lay defeated around them. “It’s done.” And none of them noticed the shadowed form that moved around the edges of the plaza, creeping ever closer.
* * *
At last, Barda stumbled to the place the noise had been coming from, only to see that the din was over and the battle lost already. The fugitives were there and with them was-
Scott Free.
And at once, the roiling tempest that had been raging within her came to the forefront again. They did not see her, and she could only stare at him. Scott Free. He had escaped the dungeons. He was here, so close to escaping the world forever- but of course, none of them could ever do that, for they had no way off the planet, none. And already she could hear the distant sound of approaching parademons; the Dark Lord had sent more forces to apprehend them it seemed. For a moment, her gaze fell on the fallen bodies of her comrades in the Furies. Clearly they had not taken her advice about fighting as a single unit, and…
…and her gaze came back to Scott. And that was when she noticed the figure in the shadows behind him.
* * *
For all his foppish and over the top clothing, Kanto was a master in his trade. He had arrived shortly after Kalibak and the Furies but had been biding his time, to ensure his strike counted. As Darkseid’s chief assassin he was master of stealth, and it would be a simple enough matter to slide around the square and cut their little throats- starting with the Free urchin.
Fools. They simply did not understand that whatever they may have expected, on Apokolips there was no escaping the Will of Darkseid. Ever. * * *
Barda hesitated. Her head felt as though it was going to explode, and she had no idea what to do. She had never felt so lost in her entire life- she had always had to be strong, to be powerful, to be silent and she had never had to think for herself, not really, because Granny did all the thinking for her.
Die for Granny and she will live for you. The old mantra was repeated in her head, but it seemed somehow hollow now, and empty, where once it had been a source of comfort and solace. She took another hesitant step forward, and part of her just wanted to fall to her knees, to scream. She saw Kanto, she saw Scott, looking happy for maybe the first time she knew… she saw the dagger slipping out of its sheath.
She had to control herself, she knew. She was a Fury in the service of the Dark Lord of Existence, and she needed to… she had to… Anti-Life, she reminded herself, remember Anti-Life, something they had all subscribed to so long ago. Life made you doubt- LIFE, and she should have no doubts as a devotee of Anti-Life. But the accursed Scott Free had made her doubt, and so she…. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, as though willing all her trouble to go away. The Anti-Life Equation, she remembered. What her lord had always sought, the thing that would give him control over everything in existence. For a second, she wished he had it now, so that she could be controlled, so she would never know this doubt and confusion and pain and…. And…
She turned slightly in wonder to see that on the seemingly ordinary wall of a building beside her, a message was carved which had not been there a moment ago, traced by a floating, disembodied hand in foot-high letters of flame, just six simple words.
“There is a Life Equation, too.”[/i]
* * *
“What…?” Metron murmured, checking the instrumentation on his Mobius Chair as his display showed Barda gazing at the letters on the wall. “I don’t…. I don’t understand, this defies all science, why is she…?” But Highfather, who was staring entranced as the captain of the Female Furies broke into a smile for the first time in her entire life, suddenly found that he did understand, and he could not help but smile himself and speak, with something like pride in his voice.
“Captain Barda is about to do that which Darkseid hates, what he fears and despises more than anything else in existence,” he said distantly, feeling tears prickle his eyes in joy and pride. “….She is about… to
choose.”
* * *
Kanto slid up behind his foes in caution, his dagger raised. Suddenly, they saw him. Lightray gave a warning cry, Orion moved but all too slowly, and Scott could not even turn in time to see the glittering blade that arced downwards towards his throat to snatch away his life, so recently freed, and then….
The split second before the blade struck, a huge metal rod slashed through Kanto’s wrist, causing him to drop back with a shout of pain and shock. Then the rod was driven into his face and emitted a thousand volts of electricity, coursing over the stunned assassin and sending him to the ground in convulsions. Barda had been wanting to do that for a very long time.
Now she looked up at the three surprised gods, seeing the flicker of recognition and shock on Scott’s face. In the end, she had realised, the choice was all too easy. No more moral dilemmas, no more warring with her soul- only action, only the action she knew was right, what she had known was right all along though she had denied it to herself. Behind her, she could her sneers and roars. Granny Goodness had arrived with a horde of parademons, hundreds of them, and she had not seen what happened to Kanto, she was roaring at Barda to hold them, to take them… and as the Gods stared at her in shock, she removed the Mother Box from her belt… and hesitated. Orion looked at her, anger still close to the surface, tense for battle, Lightray had a quizzical expression on her face. She could hear Granny shouting and she knew it was not too late, she knew that even with what she’d done to Kanto she could keep her honoured position, could survive, could live herself…. And then she looked, just once, into Scott’s round blue eyes. If she turned them in, she could live, herself… but she knew then she could never live
with herself.
“Go,” she said simply, and gave Lightray the Mother Box.
And suddenly a loud roar sounded, nearly deafening, echoing across the entire world, and it was a cry of pain and anger and horror that came from deep within the throne room of Apokolips, louder than thunder, echoing across an entire world.
With a look of deep gratitude to Barda, Lightray opened a Boom Tube in the plaza. Barda could hear Granny’s shout of rage but she did not care as Lightray dove into the Tube, to freedom. Just behind him, Orion gave her a single gruff nod which she suspected was as close to gratitude as the Dog of War came, and then he too took the glowing tube of light. Finally, there was just Scott and her, alone as the world ended and the parademons descended.
And before either could say a word, the parademons were on them, and there was not enough time to run and they grabbed at Barda, scratching at her and clawing her back as she reached out a single hand, face totally impassive, and for a second she brushed Scott’s fingers.
“BARDA!” he cried in horror as she was buried beneath the mass of demons, and he tried to free her, but she threw off the monsters just in time to grab him and hurl him bodily into the Boom Tube. “No!” he cried as he fell. “Barda, I won’t go without…”
“Live, Scott Free,” she whispered, as he was finally sucked into the Tube and it closed at last with a clap of thunder. “…Live…”
She did not even try to resist as the surging mass of demons closed around her, dragging her upright and turning her to face Granny, who looked distraught and even confused.
“….Why you?” whispered the old crone. “Of all of them, you were always Granny’s best... No-one has
ever come back from Granny… no-one.”
By way of answer, Barda spat once straight into her face in defiance. At once, the creatures roared and dragged her off towards the prisons, holding her so tightly she could never escape if she wanted to, howling and keening their strange cries. Granny whirled and fell to her knees in shock, touching her face, unable to comprehend what had happened, how it could have gone so wrong, how her best student could have proven so utterly corruptible, even as the monsters of Apokolips carried her away.
…but despite it all, there was still a thin smile on Barda’s face as she was pulled and she closed her eyes, at peace with herself for the very first time.
* * *
“I… this was a triumph, really, Lord,” Godfrey said in a placating tone. On his throne, the Dark God of Apokolips was doubled over, having suddenly pitched forward with a cry of agony that had resounded across the planet minutes ago. Now he continued to breathe heavily, head bowed, face inscrutable. “Despite it all, we still have our victory, really,” the propaganda master continued to bluster.
“I would advise you be quiet,” Steppenwolf said helpfully, taking a few cautious steps away from the throne, but Godfrey continued.
“After all, we always knew the Free urchin was going to escape eventually? We even planned for it, Lord, that’s why we gave him that name. This simply means we can attack those fools on New Genesis sooner, and while it’s regrettable that we…”
“Be silent,” came the stark command from the heaving figure on the throne, but Godfrey was lost in his own rhetoric now.
“I don’t know how she broke the Anti-Life programming, lord, but I’m sure we can correct it. Surely a single person deciding to reject us is not as unspeakab….”
“SILENCE!” roared Darkseid, throwing back his head, and as he did, twin beams of flame lanced from his eyes and struck Glorious Godfrey. With a loud cry, the white-robed New God seemed to shatter into a trillion pieces until there was literally nothing left of him, not even ash. After a moment, Steppenwolf scurried from the room, and the Dread Lord could only sit there, fists clenched, breathing heavily, alone in the shadows.
* * *
One Month LaterOrion, Lightray, Magnar and Highfather stood in Highfather’s Sky-Garden, staring upwards. It was never night on New Genesis- Supertown revolved in such a way as to always be in the Sun, but even so, it felt like twilight somehow, as clouds blocked much of the golden rays that normally bathed the city in their radiance.
“It’s cold,” Magnar noted, both of his muscular arms folded before him as he, with the others, looked into the sky. They pretended to merely be observing the weather, but every one of them was really focused on the dull red blot that cast a stain across the clouded skyline.
“The wind has picked up lately,” agreed Highfather. “The storm is nearly on us now. I can feel it.” Not one of them failed to pick up on the significance of his words and what he truly meant.
“Highfather, we’re…. I am sorry for,” Orion began to stammer awkwardly, in a manner to which he was unaccustomed, but the elder God waved a hand to dismiss his apology.
“This was always going to happen. I was a fool to think I could stop it. But the Pact is over now, and thanks to the courage of Barda, we have gained precious weeks.”
“Barda…” echoed Lightray. “I can’t believe Apokolips would produce someone like her...”
“There is a potential for good in everyone,” Highfather chided him gently. “Even those of Apokolips. Well….” His eyes returned to the aberration in the sky. “…Almost everyone. I fear the souls of Darkseid and his closest followers are too black and corrupt for any redemption..” There was silence for a few more seconds. “One day, perhaps, I shall meet Captain Barda for myself,” he said at last. “I… would like that.”
“Speaking of which,” Orion broke in. “Where did Scott go anyway?” He pretended that he was asking casually, but Highfather wasn’t fooled for a moment- Scott, Lightray and Orion had been like brothers since they returned from their ordeal in the Firepits. They had briefly enjoyed happy times, the happiest Highfather had seen Orion when at peace, but that blessed period was over and as the storm clouds gathered thicker than ever, they had to prepare for the final days.
“He slipped away early this morning,” he conceded. “I did not see it, but Himon heard the Boom Tube. I think he has gone to some other world, somewhere far away from this war, somewhere to heal his fractured psyche and finally build himself a life away from our war….Somewhere to
live.” He saw the growing anger on Orion’s face and shook his head. “Do not begrudge him that, for he has never really had a life before. I pray he finds the peace he seeks there.” Orion nodded quietly, and quiet fell on the group again.
Was it time to tell Orion yet? Highfather wondered.
Should I have told him and Scott when both were here? No, he decided,
for that would ruin Orion’s life forever. There would be time enough to tell him after the fighting began, but no need to spoil these last few blessed days. They had weeks, perhaps, before Darkseid struck but they were weeks to be enjoyed for what they were. Barda had defied the evil one and the young gods had returned safely, and they had dealt him a grievous blow through simple defiance, even if they could not comprehend that fully. And still, Highfather clung on to the secret that would shatter their worlds.
In the red light of the firepits… he reflected on the words of the ancient prophecy and the other, more recently-
Should Orion go home, freedom shall escape, Supertown shall fall. Well, two thirds of that had come true already, and the rest? That was to be worried about on another day.
The twilight was virtually upon them, but for now, New Genesis enjoyed the last few golden days of the Sun.
EPILOGUE:
In downtown Metropolis, on Earth, Police Lieutenant Johns took a long drag from his cigarette as he sat at his desk, feet propped up, eyes scanning his newspaper. The door clanged open and for a moment he could hear the storm raging outside, then he looked over the top of his paper to see two officers enter with another man in handcuffs between them- guy looked standard enough- black hair, blue eyes- but he was covered in welts and bruises and dressed in tattered rags.
“Troublemaker here, chief,” one of the officers nodded. “This idiot got hisself in a scrap.”
That was an understatement, thought Johns,
he looked like he’d been through Hell. “There was a young girl in danger,” the man said calmly. “I was only tryin’ to help.”
“Whatever,” grunted the lieutenant, hardly caring. “It’s late, I ain’t got time for this. Throw him in lock-up for the night.”
“Chief, maybe we should…” A burly, weathered sergeant began from beside him, but he waved him away.
“I’m in charge here, Turpin, not you, and I say this guy can rot. We don’t need no more troublemakers in Metropolis.”
“You may find,” the young man said very calmly. “That locking me up isn’t a good idea.”
“Sure, sure,” the chief waved his cigarette dismissively and gave a hacking cough. “Whatcha gonna do, tough guy? Escape? Guy in your condition? I’d like to see that, would take a friggin’ miracle.”
And maybe it was Sergeant Turpin’s imagination, but he could have sworn he saw a knowing glint in the young man’s eye as he was led to the cells.
The End for now...but join us next issue for the debut of new series writer, Pat Owen!
