Post by HoM on Nov 21, 2016 8:37:24 GMT -5
Previously, in JUSTICE LEAGUE…
After nearly a year off-world travelling the cosmos, the MANHUNTER FROM MARS returned to the Justice League!
Unfortunately, his arrival back on Earth came weeks after a harrowing adventure that pitted the Justice League against a malevolent extradimensional consciousness that had taken up residence in GREEN LANTERN’s power ring, along with a parallel dimension filled to the brim with monsters that threatened to spill out over our own-- an act that would have spread a malevolent, multi-angled entity across the universe, killing everything it touched!
The team’s hellish confrontation with the things from beyond reality left BATMAN, DOCTOR LIGHT and HAWKMAN injured, but when all was said and done, the team stood ready for whatever may come in the days ahead. Or so they thought…
With all this in mind, please join us now for the continuing adventures of the JUSTICE LEAGUE--
J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter, watched as a life burned down before him.
There were many lives he called his own, some more famous than the rest. John Jones was a safe space to inhabit, the old detective, the one who emerged from the shadows after being gone for so long and picking up where he left off, no one questioning the whys or wherefores. But this one, the life burning down in front of him now, was a quiet one.
Landry Turnbull, a retired sailor, living off a small pension in Metropolis after finally giving up the fishing life. The apartment building he lived in was nothing but hypnotic flame and scolding debris, and the Martian was too caught up in the roaring dance to think beyond it…
“Up and at ‘em, J’onn,” said the Guardian, pulling off the remains of his jacket and wrapping it around the arm his shield wasn’t mounted on. He looked up at the raging inferno before them and knew what came next. “We got people inside!”
“I… I…” started J’onn, unable to look away from the inferno. And then the Guardian delved into the still-burning building, and the Martian Manhunter understood why he’d been left behind: He was a liability. When fire was involved, he was the weak link. But the question still stood… who had killed off one of the second lives of the Martian Manhunter?
Returning to Laputa, the floating island that constituted the Justice League’s headquarters, the Martian Manhunter was quick to embrace those he’d missed in his time off-world.
He had left Earth many months ago to assist a nomadic and rag-tag collective of alien races find a new home on the other side of the galaxy*. During their initial sojourn, before coming into contact with the Justice League, the pilot of the immense ship that carried them went mad from the isolation that came with being awake for millions of years while the passengers slept, and with his madness came an immense need to crash the massive patchwork spacecraft into the Earth. Through the heroic actions of Green Lantern and the Martian Manhunter the day was saved, but without a pilot the last survivors of a great intergalactic war would have no way of getting home.
He had offered his services, his Martian-physiology capable of interfacing with the ship, and then they all departed, millions of nomadic lives under his care, and headed off into the void of space.
“I’m so glad to be home!” said their long-lost friend. The blatant emotional display was surprising to some, but this was their friend, long-missed, happily greeted back into their arms. J’onn had always been one to keep his emotions in check, never showing too much, but since his arrival back he was all smiles and laughter, sharing a joke with his friends as they made their way through the halls of Laputa.
Why would they question it? This was a hero who had been in the job for longer than most of them combined. And after everything they’d been through since his absence from the Earth, a friendly face was a better surprise than many of the others they’d had in his absence.
“What happened to the ark?” asked Green Lantern. It had been an adventure shared between himself and J’onn that resulted in the Manhunter from Mars departing the world, and since their mode of transport was undetectable to any outside scans-- including those of the Green Lantern Corps-- John Stewart had long had his old comrade on his mind, with little clue as to where to start looking for him.
“After so long, we found a world perfect for their varied needs,” replied J’onn, warmly.
“Whereabouts? I should let the Corps know, in case--”
“You needn’t worry, it’s all under control.”
“All right, good to hear!” Green Lantern said with a smile.
The Atom walked up to the Martian Manhunter and the two friends embraced warmly. “J’onn, it’s been way too long. I’m glad to see you’re back!”
“Thank you, Ray. It means a lot to hear that from you. How’s your wife?”
“Jean’s fantastic, thank you. Her law practice is booming. I don’t get to see her nearly as much as I should, but when you’re working to save the world…” He trailed off, disappointment in his tone, mainly directed at himself.
J’onn beamed. “You should always make time for her, Ray. In fact, why not go now? You don’t need to hang around Laputa for me. Take some time away. Send her my regards.”
“All right, that sounds like a brilliant idea. It’s quiet around here anyway, so why not?”
The Atom waved at the others and then jogged off, making a beeline for his lab so he could pack up his stuff.
“Well, I see the world has remained intact in my absence. And a recruitment drive has taken place. Some familiar faces, some new. I’m honoured to have returned to serve with you in this new iteration of the Justice League.”
“So you’re saying you’re back in the fold?” said the Guardian, looking back over his shoulder in the direction the Atom had vanished down.
“If you’ll have me.”
The Guardian patted the Martian on the back. “Of course, it would be an absolute honour--”
The Manhunter held up his hand. “James, please, you’re a legend, it is I who would be honoured to serve with you. I’m glad you were inducted into the team in my absence.”
Majestic had been silent since J’onn had made his presence known, but he felt a kindred spirit in the Martian.
As if picking up on the feeling, the Manhunter turned to address the Kheran. “And you are?”
Majestic cleared his throat. “Majestros. The Justice League rescued me from the clutches of Vandal Savage*--”
“--You were a prisoner for some time,” said J’onn. He plucked at the air. “I’ve been reviewing the events stored within the Martian psychic mainframe since we arrived back. I’m relieved they were able to get you out of there. But you’re troubled by the events that led you to being in Vandal’s clutches? That Savage referred to you as a ‘contingency’?”
Majestros eyebrow perked up and he nodded slowly. “The time traveller who engineered my release said I was Vandal Savage’s revenge on a world that finally managed to take him down. But I’m… I’m my own man, and I’ve no such inclination.”
“And Vandal bit off his own tongue when he was imprisoned, and has resisted the efforts of the psychics put in a room with him. But he’s never met a psychic like me. With your permission, Guardian-- shall we get down to business?”
“Well, I don’t see why not. Are you sure you don’t want to--”
“J’onn!” Emerging from one of the side rooms, Wonder Woman hugged her friend and lifted him up off the floor. “I’d heard you were back! This is delightful news!”
He returned her embrace. “I’m pleased to be here. I was just asking the Guardian if he thought it wise that we finally get to the bottom of Vandal Savage’s intentions toward our friend Majestros here. What do you think?”
“All right, I think that’s a good idea,” said Wonder Woman. She turned to Harper. “I’ll happily go with him.”
“I’m not going to shoot your idea down. While you do that, I’ll debrief the military on the situation back in Whilkirk. With J’onn healing the psychic damage inflicted on the residents, the army will want to withdraw. Let us know what goes down. Call us in if you need us.”
Vandal Savage had been imprisoned in the Slab for the better part of a year. One of the first things he did when he was locked up was bite off his own tongue, the wet slab of meat slapping against the floor as blood poured and a red stained grin filled his face.
There were practical reasons for this:
With a few loops of Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth, he would have spilled his guts, admitting to every heinous act he’d committed and some he’d yet to follow through on.
Whilst not admissible in court, a man like this, he appreciated his privacy. And while his mind was a steel trap, one that very few psychics were capable of breaking into, and even then, capable of withstanding the mental avalanche that came with thousands of years’ worth of memories smashing down onto their psyches, there was one psychic Savage was smart enough to fear. There was only one psychic capable of fully delving into a man like Vandal Savage’s brain, and that man-- that Martian-- had left Earth a few weeks before they finally locked him up.
“Savage hasn’t caused any issues since his imprisonment,” explained Shilo Norman, the former Mister Miracle and current warden and innovator of the Slab’s security measures. “We keep him in the Immortal Wing, away from the regular inmates, and the only visitors he has are those hoping to glean some information off him. Psychics, body language experts, the usual brain trust.”
“No luck as of yet, I’ve heard,” said J’onn.
Venturing deep into the belly of the prison, the Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman were being led by Norman. The cells were blacked out, as was standard practice when superheroes were on the premises. They were headed to the underground cell block, where the immortal inmates were to be kept.
At the moment, only two prisoners called the Immortal Wing home. The first, an immortal serial killer by the name of Kenyan. He’d been responsible for the death of Jacob Marlowe*, the Kheran warlord known as Lord Emp, and when they found out that their prisoner was functionally immortal, they made him Norman’s problem
Finally at the end of the hall, next to an empty cell built to hold Ra’s Al Ghul, opposite the one constructed for General Immortus, sat Vandal Savage. His unruly beard and thick hair was unkempt after so long locked up, but he didn’t care. Sartorial choices came second to revenge, and he knew that eating the hearts of his captors would come before having a new suit commissioned from Saville Row.
J’onn nodded once. “I see. The weapon, if you could call him such a thing, was Majestros. But so far, there’s no indication of anything damaging about him, other than his lineage as an ancient alien warlord.”
Wonder Woman was thrown by J’onn’s comments. “You read my mind?”
“Don’t worry, Diana,” said J’onn. He smiled and she relaxed. “Now, let’s see what secrets Vandal Savage holds. I’m almost excited to flex parts of myself I haven’t for so long.”
Flanked by the others, the Martian Manhunter stood in front of Vandal Savage’s cell. The immortal straightened up, surprised by the presence of the alien. His tongue was still absent, he looked concerned that the jig was finally up.
“Hello, Vandal. You've been hiding something. Shall we see what that is?”
The Martian Manhunter phased through the cell door, much to Shilo’s surprise. He made a mental note to begin figuring out how to imprison a Martian, because the best cell in his house had just been beaten by one of their numerous natural abilities. Electro-shock webs? Phase-shift force fields?
Vandal shuffled back, huffed and hawed as the Martian approached, but the Manhunter gripped the sides of the immortal despot’s head with both hands, and drove his fingers into Savage’s temples. The rest of the team had never seen a telepathic interrogation performed by their friend be so violent, but the caveman who had lived far too long didn’t cry out. As J’onn’s fingers slipped into his brain, Savage sighed and no longer struggled.
After numerous long, aching moments, with the Justice League rapt, the Martian Manhunter cleared his throat and turned back to the others. “It was a bluff. There is nothing wrong with Majestros.” He looked back at the now-aware Savage, who looked confused. “You’re lucky I wasn’t here earlier, Vandar,” the use of Savage’s original name was used as an insult. I know you inside out. “I had almost expected more from you.”
Savage roared, threw his arms up to bring them down on J’onn’s back, but the Manhunter’s arm extended and slammed Vandal into the far wall of the cell. J’onzz shook his head, and simply said, “Don’t.”
With the monstrous immortal humbled, the Martian Manhunter slipped back through the cell door and became material. “I hope Majestros will be warmed by that fact. No more concerns for his future, or his past.”
“We’ll inform him now,” said Diana. “Thank you for your hospitality, Shilo.”
“I’m at your beck and call,” replied Warden Norman. He looked over at J’onn. “Did you pick anything else up while you were in there?”
“Nothing but ugliness.”
The debrief had gone as expected for the Guardian, but now it was on to more superhero-related business.
Green Lantern assured the others that after the events of a month ago, his ring was his own, and he had one of his colleagues in the Corps run external diagnostics to make sure. They trusted his judgement, and he appreciated that.
Big Barda and Mister Miracle were sitting next to each other, the former fiddling with the settings on her Mega Rod, while the latter sketched out some death trap that he could hardly wait to construct and escape from. Across from them, Blue Beetle waited patiently, twiddling his thumbs and thinking of Doctor Light. She was absent from the meeting, her concussion from the business last month still causing her trouble. Purple Ray treatments only went so far, and she had thought it best to take a step back from the team for a bit.
Finally, and without his costume, Hawkman sat at the table, accompanied by Hawkgirl. The heinous injuries he’d experienced at the hands of both the possessed Batman and the ring constructs generated by the consciousness that had inhabited Green Lantern’s ring had nearly crippled him, but long-term exposure to Nth metal made him healthy again. His Hawk Knight armour was a write-off though, and he still hadn’t got round to coming up with alternate arrangements.
The Guardian was first to talk business. “So we’re aware of the active threat board. No red on the board, only amber. That’s something. As quiet as it’s ever been.”
Green Lantern agreed. “But that said, the FBI will be releasing Jason Burr from custody soon. The duplicate they have has admitted to every crime Lord Naga committed*. Kobra is high on the watch list, and I can’t help but feel that we might be seeing a resurgence now.”
“Any word from our New God compatriots after we located that weapons cache*?” asked the Guardian.
“No word from Orion or the others,” answered Mister Miracle. “The Silver Swans are still a mystery, but we’re looking out for more.”
“That should be a priority for you then,” said the Martian Manhunter.
He entered the room along with Wonder Woman, who looked downcast as she remembered the horrors inflicted by those who developed the Silver Swan armour in the first place.
J’onn continued. “The threat of Apokolips is one that constantly weighs heavy on your shoulders, Scott. If you feel you need to take the time to look into it further, you should.”
Barda bristled. “I had considered it, but we are stronger together. If agents of Apokolips lurk once more on Earth, we will find them together.”
“Then again… yeah, all right, maybe we should use this opportunity to focus more closely on this issue, Barda, away from the Justice League,” said Mister Miracle.
Scott’s wife was bemused for a second, but J’onn nodded in agreement with Miracle and Barda couldn’t help but agree too. “All right. Then we shall take our leave.”
“Uh, okay,” said the Guardian. “Obviously, call us if you need any assistance. Let us know if Exodus returns our communications.”
“Sure,” said Scott. The Frees stood and made their exits, leaving the team diminished by two more.
“Sure…” repeated the Guardian, confused.
“You shouldn’t be concerned, James,” said J’onn.
“All right,” said the Guardian, straightening up. “What else is there?”
“There’s no red on the board,” said Cyborg, pointing at the active threat list. “Angie and I have been working on more algorithms to trawl the law enforcement databases we have access to. If anything pings, it’ll be made aware to us immediately.”
“I’m grounded until I find a new pair of wings, so I need to get on that,” said Hawkman. “I’m healed up from the attack last month, so it’d be good to get in the skies again.”
“Any ideas where to start?” asked Blue Beetle.
“My access to Thanagarian armaments is limited, considering my ongoing exile. But I know someone who might be able to help. As soon as I speak to him, I’ll let you know.”
“What about you, Hawkgirl? Will you be joining us for a while?”
“Well, my boy here has a broken wing, doesn’t he? Until we can sort out a replacement suit for him, ‘til we get him flying again, yeah, I’ll stick around. If that’s all right, of course.”
“I don’t think we’ll be needing anyone else on the active roster right now, Kendra,” said the Martian Manhunter. “The world is quiet; Katar, perhaps now is the best time to take some time away from the Justice League?”
“Hh. All right. That makes sense. If Batman can come and go as he pleases, then why can’t I? We’ll be in St Roch if anybody needs us.”
The Hawks made a hasty exit, not wasting any time getting out of the meeting room.
Blue Beetle watched all this with some confusion. He could now count the active roster of the Justice League on one hand, not including himself.
“Are you all right, Ted?” asked the Martian Manhunter.
“Uh, yeah, I am, of course. But maybe we shouldn’t all be cashing in our vacation time at once. Last month we went through one hell of an experience, and knowing our luck, the world will end while half of us are sipping margaritas on a beach somewhere.”
“It’ll be all right,” said the Guardian. “Besides, J’onn’s back. What could go wrong?”
Blue Beetle scratched his chin. What indeed?
In their civilian clothes, James Harper and the Martian Manhunter-- taking the form of a generic-looking gentleman in a shirt, jacket and jeans-- arrived in Metropolis. It had been some time since either of the men had stepped foot in the City of Tomorrow, but James had wanted a quiet word with J’onn, and this was as good an opportunity as ever.
“It really is good to have you back, J’onn,” said James. They walked through the warm Metropolis streets, the skies clear and dark, the streetlights doing their job. J’onn had mentioned one apartment he’d rented in perpetuity. An old bank account transferring money to the landlord, even when J’onn was off-world, or doing the time-consuming things a superhero does that takes him away from home. “You’ve always been the heart of the Justice League, and I have to admit, I feel like I’ve missed out on having you around.”
“That’s fine, James. I’m here again. I’m back to help in however many ways I can. But I couldn’t help but feel that there’s something troubling you. I can sense the maelstrom of emotions thundering over your consciousness. What’s wrong?”
James hadn’t told anybody about the events of his private life. Everything that had happened to James and not The Guardian. There was a distinct difference. But that’s not what he was here to discuss, by no means, and it surprised him that J’onn so readily picked up on it.
“There are some things going on in my private life that… Well, I don’t really have anyone to discuss them with. But I’ve heard Diana speak about you, how you’ve counselled her in the past, and…”
They were standing in front of the apartment building that J’onn called home. James had his moment to ask the question that had been on his mind since he’d heard the Manhunter had left the planet.
“…Well. Look, I have a da--”
The two of them were about to reach the front door of the building when a click piqued every single sense of danger in Harper’s brain. Military grade computers ran every simulation within a span of picoseconds, and before he could say a word he instead yanked his golden shield from his back, tearing it out under his jacket, and threw it up in front of them as they were thrown back by a massive conflagration that engulfed the apartment building.
J’onn reverted back to his Martian form for a split second-- cracked emerald skin and dark crevices riddling his angular, alien body-- and cried out as the flames licked at the air, but Harper held up his shield to prevent them from being hit by the rain of fiery debris.
“Good God. Can you smell that?”
“Fire… all… and everything… the fire…”
“That’s napalm, liquid fire,” stated James. He glanced at J’onn, who had managed to revert to a more humanoid shape, and then at the flaming apartment building. “Who’s in there, J’onn? Are there any survivors?” This couldn’t have been a coincidence. For whatever reason, someone had targeted the Martian Manhunter, struck at him with the one weapon that was guaranteed to give them the advantage. But if anyone was caught in the crossfire, James had to get them out. He had to go inside, even as the flames stretched up into the sky.
“Struggling to focus… one… one moment…” He took a step back from James and put a finger to his temple. A second later, he’d transformed into his superhero costume, and nodded. “I can place a psychic map of the building into your head.”
“Up and at ‘em, J’onn,” said the Guardian, pulling off the remains of his jacket and wrapping it around the arm his shield wasn’t mounted on. He looked up at the raging inferno before them and knew what came next. “We got people inside!”
“I… I…”
Harper was going to ask if the Manhunter could go in with him, a being of his abilities would be a boon to assist, but the look in his face was one of what Harper could only identify as fear. Fire was a Martian’s one weakness. And his home was currently engulfed in flames that licked and spread at whatever they touched.
Without his shield, the Guardian was still an enhanced human, capable of great feats of strength and speed. He was built for war, any kind of warfare, be it out on a battlefield or in the streets of downtown Metropolis, he could adapt to any situation and do so immediately. The shield itself was an extension of his own body, a tool capable of many uses, a weapon mainly, but in case of emergency… useful.
Using the map placed in his head, he followed the throbbing lights that signified people trapped inside, and moved with great haste, careful not to touch the napalm that oozed across the surface spreading more fire. When a door was closed, he’d find an alternative route, and within a few seconds he was at the first survivor, a young girl, and he bundled her up-- ignoring the fact that his shirt was doing nothing to stop the burns spreading across his back.
With an intense blink, Harper turned his pain receptors down to as close to off as possible. He needed to know if he was in pain, he needed to know if the damage done to him was too much, but he was secure in the knowledge that he would heal no matter what. They’d done a lot of work on him back in the day, a lot of out-there science that hadn’t been duplicated since, and he knew that bar having his head lopped off, he could get back up from anything.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right there, kiddo.” He looked around. No other bright lights in his mind in this room, the girl was alone, and he didn’t have enough time to loiter-- there were still others he needed to get to. The smoke was choking, so he stayed low, but there was a window right there, and the street below was where the fire brigade were starting to gather…
With his spare hand, he placed his shield on his back and picked up a chair, hurling it through the nearest window. On impact, the glass shattered, causing a massive rush of fire to flow through the room thanks to the sudden injection of oxygen into the room. He had expected this, covered the girl with his body, and let the flames wash over his shield and back. He felt more than a slight discomfort, pain receptors on low but still screaming in their own distinct way. When the influx of fire faded, he looked out and saw the Martian Manhunter floating there, arms open.
{Throw her to me, James.}
The Guardian did as he was told, saw J’onn catch her, then went back to the task at hand. Before he could reach the next survivor, the fires began to flicker, began to fade, and then they were sucked out of the apartment block by an immense gust of wind. A blue and red blur moved past him, and then a second later James was outside, held up by none other than the Man of Steel.
“The building is clear and I put the fire out, Guardian. Let’s get you the medical attention you need.”
While the Guardian sat on the edge of an ambulance sucking oxygen, the Martian Manhunter spoke quietly to Superman. He couldn’t hear their conversation, and wasn’t interested in listening in. Even with his body riddled with enhancements to create the ultimate super soldier, he needed oxygen to breathe, he needed it to function, and breathing in the scorching hot napalm fumes had taxed his system. The paramedics had nearly cried out when they watched the blackened chunks of burnt flesh fall off his back in sheets, but when the skin and musculature grew back, they stopped hyperventilating.
“It’s called a healing factor,” said the Guardian, taking a brief break from the oxygen tank. “Military grade.”
“Uh, sure, sure, and you’ll, uh, be okay?” asked the paramedic.
“Soon enough I will be. I’ll need protein, but I’ll handle that in my own time. How are the others?”
“Good, sir, good,” said the second paramedic. “And, ah, can I say it’s good to have you back in Metropolis, sir? My grandmama always sang the praises of the Guardian.”
Harper smiled. Somehow, even out of uniform, they recognised him. His shield was sat beside him, as good a calling card as ever. Metropolis was where his life had begun, before the experiments, before the war changed his life forever. He always came back, even when it wasn’t the best place for him to be at that time. That was the nature of it. But when you were a superhuman living in a city protected by the world’s greatest superhero, inadequacy didn’t come into it. The simple fact that there was a man who could do a job you did better than you could ever dream to do it meant you sought challenges elsewhere, out in the world. The Guardian went from the protector of Metropolis streets to the protector of whatever, whoever, wherever needed him.
Superman looked over at the Guardian, waved once, and then departed. The Martian Manhunter floated back to Harper’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. The paramedics gave them space. “Kal sends his regards.”
“Not sticking around?”
“There are more pressing concerns. And the other concerns are ones we are in a position to deal with.” He held up a scorched piece of paper, that had letters pasted to it to read one word: BURN.
“Someone just tried to kill you?”
“And they would have got away with it too, if it wasn’t for you. But the culprit is still at large… and I do not like that one bit.”
“Then this is a job for the Justice League. I assume you’ve already started putting together a list of possible suspects?”
The Martian Manhunter smiled sadly. “It’s not a short one.”
The Guardian took one last slug from the oxygen tank then patted the Martian Manhunter on the back sympathetically. “It never is.”
Blue Beetle materialised into Laputa and made a beeline for the conference room, where the Martian Manhunter was sat in the chairperson’s seat and the rest of the remaining Justice Leaguers discussed what happened around him. The Guardian was busy eating the biggest ribeye Ted had ever seen, while the others-- Cyborg, Green Lantern, Majestros and Wonder Woman-- were going through a large list that floated down the middle of the meeting table, discussing their options.
“What have we got?” asked Blue Beetle.
“There’s been a death threat made against the Martian Manhunter,” said the Guardian, swallowing the latest mouthful of steak with a gulp of water. “Sorry, I need protein to… never mind…”
“They didn’t waste any time. You’ve only been back for two minutes!” said Beetle, looking over at J’onn.
“They never do wait long,” said the Manhunter.
“Something to do with Savage?” offered Majestic.
J’onn shook his head. “There was no malice toward me, just defeat.”
Cyborg looked up from the list he was combing through. “I’ve already spoken to Shilo, and there haven’t been any signals broadcast to or from Vandal’s cell since we left. Not that the mad old guy couldn’t find a way.”
J’onn waved his hand, dismissing the point. “I don’t think it was an attack aimed at me because of Vandal Savage.”
“And this is our list of suspects? Quite a who’s who of pyromaniacs,” said Beetle. “Heatwave, Scorch, Human Flame… just to name a few. Why do you think they’re the ones behind this? You’re not exactly their go-to antagonist.”
“It’s hard to explain. There was a psychic component to the attack, but it wasn’t intended by the culprit. I felt utter, burning malice. And there’s a flavour to that, a flavour to that kind of anger. And from that, I extrapolated this list. Fire manipulators who like it. Don’t you agree?”
“All right,” said the Guardian. “Makes sense to me.”
“Does it?” retorted Blue Beetle.
The Martian Manhunter stood and walked toward Blue Beetle. “It is hard to explain. You wouldn’t understand, Ted. My Martian psychic self… it’s so sensitive to these kinds of things. Please, trust me. All right?”
Blue Beetle kept hearing that turn of phrase. It wasn’t ‘all right’ though, was it? But this was the Justice League, and he had to trust his comrades. He felt a dull ache at the back of his head, a migraine coming on, but didn’t think twice about it.
Blue Beetle looked back at the list as it streamed down the middle of the meeting table. “Okay, then. Who’s taking who?”
“I’ve divided the list, suitable for each of you. I’ll stay here and coordinate our efforts,” said the Martian Manhunter.
Mick Rory, better known on the Rogues-scene as Heatwave, sipped his beer. His battered but ever-reliable zippo was sat by his napkin, and he contemplated setting the latter on fire and watching the flames dance their merry jig, but knew that the owner of the bar would probably frown on it, and he didn’t need that kind of heat coming down on him.
“Hey. You were pretty easy to track down, all things considered.”
Lazily, Rory turned and was punched square in the face by the Guardian. Harper hitched the Rogue’s hands up behind his back and cuffed them, then frisked him. He pulled one pyro-gun from the shoulder holster, then found small bottles of hard liquor stuffed with small cloths inside his pockets. Tiny Molotov cocktails made out of the small bottles you’d find in a hotel minibar. Cute, but still dangerous as all hell.
“Even without your costume on, you’re a grade-A nut. Why’d you attack the Manhunter, Heatwave? What was the endgame? Your fingerprints are all over the damn letter, you idiot.”
“What? What’re you talking about, you sonofabitch, I--”
The Guardian slammed his forearm into the back of Heatwave’s head, knocking him out instantly.
“Yeah, you’re under arrest.”
Head down, Snowflame snorted a line of cocaine and reeled back, grinning. His eyes lit up and the twisting white flames that wracked his body throbbed, twisted, wrapped around his arms and crackled ready to be thrown.
The man was alone in the apartment, but there was something edging up the back of his neck, some sixth sense telling him that he needed the hit, needed the boost, because something was about to happen, something big and loud. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was his time to do something nasty.
Behind him, a wall seemingly imploded with a muffled, depressed gasp; the debris suspended in place, in midair, for a split second before falling down. Snowflame had never seen anything like it. The resulting damage was restricted to the wall, nothing much by way of collateral. That wouldn’t do. Frothing at the mouth, the villain cast his burning white fires at the gap, but a figure stepped through, shaking his head.
“What-- who--?” hissed Snowflame.
“You need a detox,” said Cyborg, white noise cannon raised and primed. “Let me help a guy out.”
“No-- no--! I am Snowflame! Every cell of my being burns with white-hot ecstasy! Cocaine is--”
Cyborg thumped the villain across the top of the head, knocking him out immediately. “Well, you’re a terrifying joke, aren’t you?.”
Majestic didn’t need to take his time. The list in his head was clear. Even the ones imprisoned, even the ones that were under lock and key, they were easy enough to scoop up ready for interrogation. He was a scarlet and white blur, zipping in where he needed to go and vanishing without a trace, the only difference being the absence of the fire-wielding villains he had snatched up.
Fire Fiend, one of Captain Marvel’s old foes, had been hiding out in Argentina with the recently reawakened Fire Disciple, an enemy of the Justice Society from World War 2. In Dakota City, the former hero known as Slag had been napping in an abandoned tenement bloc. Berlin was the next stop after that, where the mysterious, potty-mouthed Scorcher was laying low. Over in Roppongi, the Yakuza assassin Sakki had been enjoying rice wine until his relaxation time was interrupted. Flambe… Pyra-Maniac…Slagg… Incinderella… Doctor Phosphorous… Heatmonger… Arson Fiend… many more, all deposited where the Martian Manhunter instructed the villains to be taken.
All in all, an easy five minute’s work.
Gotham City had rarely seen a sight as magnificent as Wonder Woman, but she didn't plan on sticking around for long tonight. Firefly was holed up in an abandoned fire house-- an irony-- and she didn’t give him a chance to pull his flamethrower on her. She hoisted him up by his throat, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Gotham’s protector.
“What are you doing here?” asked Batman. He held himself differently than usual, more than likely due to the injuries he’d experienced at the multi-angled tentacles of the inter-dimensional being that had possessed both Green Lantern’s ring and later the Dark Knight’s own body. He was better than expected considering the short Purple Healing Ray treatments he’d been granted, but they both knew he shouldn’t be out in this state. “Not that I don’t appreciate the assist…”
“Someone tried to kill the Martian Manhunter. He believes that Firefly could be behind the attack. Something about an experimental accelerant used in the bomb that matches Firefly’s crimes.”
“I did it! I did it!” shrieked Garfield Lyons. He thrashed about in Diana’s grip, but he wasn’t going anywhere fast. Without his gear he was just a badly scarred man with a fire fetish.
“I didn’t think it would be that easy,” said Wonder Woman, her brow creasing.
“It’s not. I’ve been on Firefly’s trail for days. Robin’s paper trail work shows he’s not left Gotham City for a month. He’s been planning something big here.”
Firefly nodded. “Burn the amusement park burn it all down see them burn see the fire--”
Batman shot Lyons a look that shut the ranting maniac down immediately.
“I located every bomb you planted. Your fuel source made it an easy-enough job. The GCPD have all the evidence they’ll need to send you back to Blackgate. Or Arkham, depending on the story you spin to the DA. Either way, you’re done.”
“The attack took place in Metropolis. Let’s see what the truth of the matter is.” With her spare hand Diana unhooked her lasso and then looped it around Firefly’s wrist. “Did you engineer the attack of the Martian Manhunter?”
Firefly screamed and blood exploded out of his nose. He passed out immediately in Wonder Woman’s hand and she lowered him to the ground.
Batman examined him, but could find no cause for the sudden attack. “He needs medical attention.”
“What was that?” wondered Diana.
“Look, thanks for surrendering so easily, I didn’t want to have to beat you up,” said Blue Beetle.
“You got me, fair and square,” said the Human Flame. “I don’t want to get my face knocked off for it.”
“Reasonable man.”
The two men were sat in the front room of the Human Flame’s shabby apartment. Kord had simply knocked on the door in full-costume, made his presence known, and the villain had shrugged and given up. Apparently his costume wasn’t in full working order, so it’s not like he could do anything other than throw a punch, and he wasn’t in the best shape to do something like that. So instead, he’d put the kettle on, found some instant coffee, and the two men were making small talk as infomercials buzzed on the television set. The costume was splayed open on the kitchen table, the mechanisms exposed as the Human Flame had tinkered.
The Human Flame shrugged and took a sip from the sludge he’d conjured up from the back of the cupboard. “Y’see, I’m not a loon like some of the guys in this game. I’m not even wearing my costume. Without that, I'm not a threat to nobody. So yeah, take me to your leader.”
“I have a quick question before all that, before I arrest you and cart you off to jail. Why’d you attack the Martian Manhunter? What made you think that would be a good idea?”
“I hate him so much,” replied the Human Flame, twisting his moustache despite himself.
“Yeah, but he’s the Martian Manhunter, you’re wrestling above your weight class in a big way, trying that on with him.”
“But, uh,” the Human Flame looked at his hands. “What?”
“Okay, I’m bamboozled, you can talk it out with your lawyer, then we’ll see what’s left of this situation.”
A number of voices began to buzz into Blue Beetle’s head through the nanotelepathic link they’d been using since the Martian Manhunter left Earth. How long until they’d have to go back to the psi-link provided by their old friend?
{This is Green Lantern. I’ve located Volcana and Scorch. They’ve admitted their part in the plot against J’onn’s life.}
{Snowflame is in the bag. He’s admitted his part in the plot against J’onn’s life. Then he puked on my feet.}
{I have Firefly in custody. He’s admitted his part in the plot against J’onn’s life, but I’m looking into this further with Batman. Something odd is going on.}
{I’ll speak to Batman personally. Let’s clear up any confusion,} came the Martian Manhunter’s voice. {Where are you exactly?}
“Sir?” asked the Human Flame, his voice wavering.
The Guardian’s voice came in next. {I have Heatwave in custody. He’s admitted his part in the plot against J’onn’s life.}
“What is going on…?” whispered Blue Beetle.
Martian Manhunter’s voice cut through again. {Blue Beetle, what’s your situation?}
“Sir, I’m, uh,” the Human Flame wiped a bead of blood from his nose. “I’m having second thoughts. No, uh, that’s not right. I mean, I don’t… I remember writing the note. I remember… that. But then I don’t. Like… ow. Ow.” He clutched his head and then cried out as something overtook him. Then, without another word, he fell to the floor and began to twitch, caught up in an immense seizure.
{Blue Beetle?} pressed the Martian Manhunter.
“Ah, crap,” said Ted. He checked the villain’s vitals and found his heartbeat to be erratic, his pupils contracting and dilating like an erratic pulse. He’d never seen anything like this in all his life as a superhero, and even during his studies into esoteric science, this was a complete mystery.
{Everything’s fine, uh… BRB.}
“Door!” Blue Beetle bundled up the Human Flame’s costume then scooped up the man himself, before stepping through the portal he’d summoned, straight into the lobby of the closest S.T.A.R. Labs facility. “Uh, Justice League emergency?”
After nearly a year off-world travelling the cosmos, the MANHUNTER FROM MARS returned to the Justice League!
Unfortunately, his arrival back on Earth came weeks after a harrowing adventure that pitted the Justice League against a malevolent extradimensional consciousness that had taken up residence in GREEN LANTERN’s power ring, along with a parallel dimension filled to the brim with monsters that threatened to spill out over our own-- an act that would have spread a malevolent, multi-angled entity across the universe, killing everything it touched!
The team’s hellish confrontation with the things from beyond reality left BATMAN, DOCTOR LIGHT and HAWKMAN injured, but when all was said and done, the team stood ready for whatever may come in the days ahead. Or so they thought…
With all this in mind, please join us now for the continuing adventures of the JUSTICE LEAGUE--
JUSTICE LEAGUE ROLL-CALL:
 |  |  |  |
| THE ATOM | THE BATMAN | BIG BARDA | BLUE BEETLE |
 |  |  |  |
| CYBORG | DOCTOR LIGHT | GREEN LANTERN | THE GUARDIAN |
 |  |  |  |  |
| HAWKMAN | MAJESTIC | MARTIAN MANHUNTER | MISTER MIRACLE | WONDER WOMAN |
J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter, watched as a life burned down before him.
There were many lives he called his own, some more famous than the rest. John Jones was a safe space to inhabit, the old detective, the one who emerged from the shadows after being gone for so long and picking up where he left off, no one questioning the whys or wherefores. But this one, the life burning down in front of him now, was a quiet one.
Landry Turnbull, a retired sailor, living off a small pension in Metropolis after finally giving up the fishing life. The apartment building he lived in was nothing but hypnotic flame and scolding debris, and the Martian was too caught up in the roaring dance to think beyond it…
“Up and at ‘em, J’onn,” said the Guardian, pulling off the remains of his jacket and wrapping it around the arm his shield wasn’t mounted on. He looked up at the raging inferno before them and knew what came next. “We got people inside!”
“I… I…” started J’onn, unable to look away from the inferno. And then the Guardian delved into the still-burning building, and the Martian Manhunter understood why he’d been left behind: He was a liability. When fire was involved, he was the weak link. But the question still stood… who had killed off one of the second lives of the Martian Manhunter?
JUSTICE LEAGUE
Issue Fifty-Nine: “Fire Of Unknown Origin”
HoM / FLINCHUM / BOWERS
TWELVE HOURS EARLIER, LAPUTA:
Returning to Laputa, the floating island that constituted the Justice League’s headquarters, the Martian Manhunter was quick to embrace those he’d missed in his time off-world.
He had left Earth many months ago to assist a nomadic and rag-tag collective of alien races find a new home on the other side of the galaxy*. During their initial sojourn, before coming into contact with the Justice League, the pilot of the immense ship that carried them went mad from the isolation that came with being awake for millions of years while the passengers slept, and with his madness came an immense need to crash the massive patchwork spacecraft into the Earth. Through the heroic actions of Green Lantern and the Martian Manhunter the day was saved, but without a pilot the last survivors of a great intergalactic war would have no way of getting home.
*Justice League #41
He had offered his services, his Martian-physiology capable of interfacing with the ship, and then they all departed, millions of nomadic lives under his care, and headed off into the void of space.
“I’m so glad to be home!” said their long-lost friend. The blatant emotional display was surprising to some, but this was their friend, long-missed, happily greeted back into their arms. J’onn had always been one to keep his emotions in check, never showing too much, but since his arrival back he was all smiles and laughter, sharing a joke with his friends as they made their way through the halls of Laputa.
Why would they question it? This was a hero who had been in the job for longer than most of them combined. And after everything they’d been through since his absence from the Earth, a friendly face was a better surprise than many of the others they’d had in his absence.
“What happened to the ark?” asked Green Lantern. It had been an adventure shared between himself and J’onn that resulted in the Manhunter from Mars departing the world, and since their mode of transport was undetectable to any outside scans-- including those of the Green Lantern Corps-- John Stewart had long had his old comrade on his mind, with little clue as to where to start looking for him.
“After so long, we found a world perfect for their varied needs,” replied J’onn, warmly.
“Whereabouts? I should let the Corps know, in case--”
“You needn’t worry, it’s all under control.”
“All right, good to hear!” Green Lantern said with a smile.
The Atom walked up to the Martian Manhunter and the two friends embraced warmly. “J’onn, it’s been way too long. I’m glad to see you’re back!”
“Thank you, Ray. It means a lot to hear that from you. How’s your wife?”
“Jean’s fantastic, thank you. Her law practice is booming. I don’t get to see her nearly as much as I should, but when you’re working to save the world…” He trailed off, disappointment in his tone, mainly directed at himself.
J’onn beamed. “You should always make time for her, Ray. In fact, why not go now? You don’t need to hang around Laputa for me. Take some time away. Send her my regards.”
“All right, that sounds like a brilliant idea. It’s quiet around here anyway, so why not?”
The Atom waved at the others and then jogged off, making a beeline for his lab so he could pack up his stuff.
“Well, I see the world has remained intact in my absence. And a recruitment drive has taken place. Some familiar faces, some new. I’m honoured to have returned to serve with you in this new iteration of the Justice League.”
“So you’re saying you’re back in the fold?” said the Guardian, looking back over his shoulder in the direction the Atom had vanished down.
“If you’ll have me.”
The Guardian patted the Martian on the back. “Of course, it would be an absolute honour--”
The Manhunter held up his hand. “James, please, you’re a legend, it is I who would be honoured to serve with you. I’m glad you were inducted into the team in my absence.”
Majestic had been silent since J’onn had made his presence known, but he felt a kindred spirit in the Martian.
As if picking up on the feeling, the Manhunter turned to address the Kheran. “And you are?”
Majestic cleared his throat. “Majestros. The Justice League rescued me from the clutches of Vandal Savage*--”
*Justice League #45
“--You were a prisoner for some time,” said J’onn. He plucked at the air. “I’ve been reviewing the events stored within the Martian psychic mainframe since we arrived back. I’m relieved they were able to get you out of there. But you’re troubled by the events that led you to being in Vandal’s clutches? That Savage referred to you as a ‘contingency’?”
Majestros eyebrow perked up and he nodded slowly. “The time traveller who engineered my release said I was Vandal Savage’s revenge on a world that finally managed to take him down. But I’m… I’m my own man, and I’ve no such inclination.”
“And Vandal bit off his own tongue when he was imprisoned, and has resisted the efforts of the psychics put in a room with him. But he’s never met a psychic like me. With your permission, Guardian-- shall we get down to business?”
“Well, I don’t see why not. Are you sure you don’t want to--”
“J’onn!” Emerging from one of the side rooms, Wonder Woman hugged her friend and lifted him up off the floor. “I’d heard you were back! This is delightful news!”
He returned her embrace. “I’m pleased to be here. I was just asking the Guardian if he thought it wise that we finally get to the bottom of Vandal Savage’s intentions toward our friend Majestros here. What do you think?”
“All right, I think that’s a good idea,” said Wonder Woman. She turned to Harper. “I’ll happily go with him.”
“I’m not going to shoot your idea down. While you do that, I’ll debrief the military on the situation back in Whilkirk. With J’onn healing the psychic damage inflicted on the residents, the army will want to withdraw. Let us know what goes down. Call us in if you need us.”
THE SLAB:
Vandal Savage had been imprisoned in the Slab for the better part of a year. One of the first things he did when he was locked up was bite off his own tongue, the wet slab of meat slapping against the floor as blood poured and a red stained grin filled his face.
There were practical reasons for this:
With a few loops of Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth, he would have spilled his guts, admitting to every heinous act he’d committed and some he’d yet to follow through on.
Whilst not admissible in court, a man like this, he appreciated his privacy. And while his mind was a steel trap, one that very few psychics were capable of breaking into, and even then, capable of withstanding the mental avalanche that came with thousands of years’ worth of memories smashing down onto their psyches, there was one psychic Savage was smart enough to fear. There was only one psychic capable of fully delving into a man like Vandal Savage’s brain, and that man-- that Martian-- had left Earth a few weeks before they finally locked him up.
“Savage hasn’t caused any issues since his imprisonment,” explained Shilo Norman, the former Mister Miracle and current warden and innovator of the Slab’s security measures. “We keep him in the Immortal Wing, away from the regular inmates, and the only visitors he has are those hoping to glean some information off him. Psychics, body language experts, the usual brain trust.”
“No luck as of yet, I’ve heard,” said J’onn.
Venturing deep into the belly of the prison, the Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman were being led by Norman. The cells were blacked out, as was standard practice when superheroes were on the premises. They were headed to the underground cell block, where the immortal inmates were to be kept.
At the moment, only two prisoners called the Immortal Wing home. The first, an immortal serial killer by the name of Kenyan. He’d been responsible for the death of Jacob Marlowe*, the Kheran warlord known as Lord Emp, and when they found out that their prisoner was functionally immortal, they made him Norman’s problem
*Justice League #48
Finally at the end of the hall, next to an empty cell built to hold Ra’s Al Ghul, opposite the one constructed for General Immortus, sat Vandal Savage. His unruly beard and thick hair was unkempt after so long locked up, but he didn’t care. Sartorial choices came second to revenge, and he knew that eating the hearts of his captors would come before having a new suit commissioned from Saville Row.
J’onn nodded once. “I see. The weapon, if you could call him such a thing, was Majestros. But so far, there’s no indication of anything damaging about him, other than his lineage as an ancient alien warlord.”
Wonder Woman was thrown by J’onn’s comments. “You read my mind?”
“Don’t worry, Diana,” said J’onn. He smiled and she relaxed. “Now, let’s see what secrets Vandal Savage holds. I’m almost excited to flex parts of myself I haven’t for so long.”
Flanked by the others, the Martian Manhunter stood in front of Vandal Savage’s cell. The immortal straightened up, surprised by the presence of the alien. His tongue was still absent, he looked concerned that the jig was finally up.
“Hello, Vandal. You've been hiding something. Shall we see what that is?”
The Martian Manhunter phased through the cell door, much to Shilo’s surprise. He made a mental note to begin figuring out how to imprison a Martian, because the best cell in his house had just been beaten by one of their numerous natural abilities. Electro-shock webs? Phase-shift force fields?
Vandal shuffled back, huffed and hawed as the Martian approached, but the Manhunter gripped the sides of the immortal despot’s head with both hands, and drove his fingers into Savage’s temples. The rest of the team had never seen a telepathic interrogation performed by their friend be so violent, but the caveman who had lived far too long didn’t cry out. As J’onn’s fingers slipped into his brain, Savage sighed and no longer struggled.
After numerous long, aching moments, with the Justice League rapt, the Martian Manhunter cleared his throat and turned back to the others. “It was a bluff. There is nothing wrong with Majestros.” He looked back at the now-aware Savage, who looked confused. “You’re lucky I wasn’t here earlier, Vandar,” the use of Savage’s original name was used as an insult. I know you inside out. “I had almost expected more from you.”
Savage roared, threw his arms up to bring them down on J’onn’s back, but the Manhunter’s arm extended and slammed Vandal into the far wall of the cell. J’onzz shook his head, and simply said, “Don’t.”
With the monstrous immortal humbled, the Martian Manhunter slipped back through the cell door and became material. “I hope Majestros will be warmed by that fact. No more concerns for his future, or his past.”
“We’ll inform him now,” said Diana. “Thank you for your hospitality, Shilo.”
“I’m at your beck and call,” replied Warden Norman. He looked over at J’onn. “Did you pick anything else up while you were in there?”
“Nothing but ugliness.”
LAPUTA:
The debrief had gone as expected for the Guardian, but now it was on to more superhero-related business.
Green Lantern assured the others that after the events of a month ago, his ring was his own, and he had one of his colleagues in the Corps run external diagnostics to make sure. They trusted his judgement, and he appreciated that.
Big Barda and Mister Miracle were sitting next to each other, the former fiddling with the settings on her Mega Rod, while the latter sketched out some death trap that he could hardly wait to construct and escape from. Across from them, Blue Beetle waited patiently, twiddling his thumbs and thinking of Doctor Light. She was absent from the meeting, her concussion from the business last month still causing her trouble. Purple Ray treatments only went so far, and she had thought it best to take a step back from the team for a bit.
Finally, and without his costume, Hawkman sat at the table, accompanied by Hawkgirl. The heinous injuries he’d experienced at the hands of both the possessed Batman and the ring constructs generated by the consciousness that had inhabited Green Lantern’s ring had nearly crippled him, but long-term exposure to Nth metal made him healthy again. His Hawk Knight armour was a write-off though, and he still hadn’t got round to coming up with alternate arrangements.
The Guardian was first to talk business. “So we’re aware of the active threat board. No red on the board, only amber. That’s something. As quiet as it’s ever been.”
Green Lantern agreed. “But that said, the FBI will be releasing Jason Burr from custody soon. The duplicate they have has admitted to every crime Lord Naga committed*. Kobra is high on the watch list, and I can’t help but feel that we might be seeing a resurgence now.”
*Justice League #44
“Any word from our New God compatriots after we located that weapons cache*?” asked the Guardian.
*Justice League #55
“No word from Orion or the others,” answered Mister Miracle. “The Silver Swans are still a mystery, but we’re looking out for more.”
“That should be a priority for you then,” said the Martian Manhunter.
He entered the room along with Wonder Woman, who looked downcast as she remembered the horrors inflicted by those who developed the Silver Swan armour in the first place.
J’onn continued. “The threat of Apokolips is one that constantly weighs heavy on your shoulders, Scott. If you feel you need to take the time to look into it further, you should.”
Barda bristled. “I had considered it, but we are stronger together. If agents of Apokolips lurk once more on Earth, we will find them together.”
“Then again… yeah, all right, maybe we should use this opportunity to focus more closely on this issue, Barda, away from the Justice League,” said Mister Miracle.
Scott’s wife was bemused for a second, but J’onn nodded in agreement with Miracle and Barda couldn’t help but agree too. “All right. Then we shall take our leave.”
“Uh, okay,” said the Guardian. “Obviously, call us if you need any assistance. Let us know if Exodus returns our communications.”
“Sure,” said Scott. The Frees stood and made their exits, leaving the team diminished by two more.
“Sure…” repeated the Guardian, confused.
“You shouldn’t be concerned, James,” said J’onn.
“All right,” said the Guardian, straightening up. “What else is there?”
“There’s no red on the board,” said Cyborg, pointing at the active threat list. “Angie and I have been working on more algorithms to trawl the law enforcement databases we have access to. If anything pings, it’ll be made aware to us immediately.”
“I’m grounded until I find a new pair of wings, so I need to get on that,” said Hawkman. “I’m healed up from the attack last month, so it’d be good to get in the skies again.”
“Any ideas where to start?” asked Blue Beetle.
“My access to Thanagarian armaments is limited, considering my ongoing exile. But I know someone who might be able to help. As soon as I speak to him, I’ll let you know.”
“What about you, Hawkgirl? Will you be joining us for a while?”
“Well, my boy here has a broken wing, doesn’t he? Until we can sort out a replacement suit for him, ‘til we get him flying again, yeah, I’ll stick around. If that’s all right, of course.”
“I don’t think we’ll be needing anyone else on the active roster right now, Kendra,” said the Martian Manhunter. “The world is quiet; Katar, perhaps now is the best time to take some time away from the Justice League?”
“Hh. All right. That makes sense. If Batman can come and go as he pleases, then why can’t I? We’ll be in St Roch if anybody needs us.”
The Hawks made a hasty exit, not wasting any time getting out of the meeting room.
Blue Beetle watched all this with some confusion. He could now count the active roster of the Justice League on one hand, not including himself.
“Are you all right, Ted?” asked the Martian Manhunter.
“Uh, yeah, I am, of course. But maybe we shouldn’t all be cashing in our vacation time at once. Last month we went through one hell of an experience, and knowing our luck, the world will end while half of us are sipping margaritas on a beach somewhere.”
“It’ll be all right,” said the Guardian. “Besides, J’onn’s back. What could go wrong?”
Blue Beetle scratched his chin. What indeed?
METROPOLIS:
In their civilian clothes, James Harper and the Martian Manhunter-- taking the form of a generic-looking gentleman in a shirt, jacket and jeans-- arrived in Metropolis. It had been some time since either of the men had stepped foot in the City of Tomorrow, but James had wanted a quiet word with J’onn, and this was as good an opportunity as ever.
“It really is good to have you back, J’onn,” said James. They walked through the warm Metropolis streets, the skies clear and dark, the streetlights doing their job. J’onn had mentioned one apartment he’d rented in perpetuity. An old bank account transferring money to the landlord, even when J’onn was off-world, or doing the time-consuming things a superhero does that takes him away from home. “You’ve always been the heart of the Justice League, and I have to admit, I feel like I’ve missed out on having you around.”
“That’s fine, James. I’m here again. I’m back to help in however many ways I can. But I couldn’t help but feel that there’s something troubling you. I can sense the maelstrom of emotions thundering over your consciousness. What’s wrong?”
James hadn’t told anybody about the events of his private life. Everything that had happened to James and not The Guardian. There was a distinct difference. But that’s not what he was here to discuss, by no means, and it surprised him that J’onn so readily picked up on it.
“There are some things going on in my private life that… Well, I don’t really have anyone to discuss them with. But I’ve heard Diana speak about you, how you’ve counselled her in the past, and…”
They were standing in front of the apartment building that J’onn called home. James had his moment to ask the question that had been on his mind since he’d heard the Manhunter had left the planet.
“…Well. Look, I have a da--”
The two of them were about to reach the front door of the building when a click piqued every single sense of danger in Harper’s brain. Military grade computers ran every simulation within a span of picoseconds, and before he could say a word he instead yanked his golden shield from his back, tearing it out under his jacket, and threw it up in front of them as they were thrown back by a massive conflagration that engulfed the apartment building.
J’onn reverted back to his Martian form for a split second-- cracked emerald skin and dark crevices riddling his angular, alien body-- and cried out as the flames licked at the air, but Harper held up his shield to prevent them from being hit by the rain of fiery debris.
“Good God. Can you smell that?”
“Fire… all… and everything… the fire…”
“That’s napalm, liquid fire,” stated James. He glanced at J’onn, who had managed to revert to a more humanoid shape, and then at the flaming apartment building. “Who’s in there, J’onn? Are there any survivors?” This couldn’t have been a coincidence. For whatever reason, someone had targeted the Martian Manhunter, struck at him with the one weapon that was guaranteed to give them the advantage. But if anyone was caught in the crossfire, James had to get them out. He had to go inside, even as the flames stretched up into the sky.
“Struggling to focus… one… one moment…” He took a step back from James and put a finger to his temple. A second later, he’d transformed into his superhero costume, and nodded. “I can place a psychic map of the building into your head.”
“Up and at ‘em, J’onn,” said the Guardian, pulling off the remains of his jacket and wrapping it around the arm his shield wasn’t mounted on. He looked up at the raging inferno before them and knew what came next. “We got people inside!”
“I… I…”
Harper was going to ask if the Manhunter could go in with him, a being of his abilities would be a boon to assist, but the look in his face was one of what Harper could only identify as fear. Fire was a Martian’s one weakness. And his home was currently engulfed in flames that licked and spread at whatever they touched.
Without his shield, the Guardian was still an enhanced human, capable of great feats of strength and speed. He was built for war, any kind of warfare, be it out on a battlefield or in the streets of downtown Metropolis, he could adapt to any situation and do so immediately. The shield itself was an extension of his own body, a tool capable of many uses, a weapon mainly, but in case of emergency… useful.
Using the map placed in his head, he followed the throbbing lights that signified people trapped inside, and moved with great haste, careful not to touch the napalm that oozed across the surface spreading more fire. When a door was closed, he’d find an alternative route, and within a few seconds he was at the first survivor, a young girl, and he bundled her up-- ignoring the fact that his shirt was doing nothing to stop the burns spreading across his back.
With an intense blink, Harper turned his pain receptors down to as close to off as possible. He needed to know if he was in pain, he needed to know if the damage done to him was too much, but he was secure in the knowledge that he would heal no matter what. They’d done a lot of work on him back in the day, a lot of out-there science that hadn’t been duplicated since, and he knew that bar having his head lopped off, he could get back up from anything.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right there, kiddo.” He looked around. No other bright lights in his mind in this room, the girl was alone, and he didn’t have enough time to loiter-- there were still others he needed to get to. The smoke was choking, so he stayed low, but there was a window right there, and the street below was where the fire brigade were starting to gather…
With his spare hand, he placed his shield on his back and picked up a chair, hurling it through the nearest window. On impact, the glass shattered, causing a massive rush of fire to flow through the room thanks to the sudden injection of oxygen into the room. He had expected this, covered the girl with his body, and let the flames wash over his shield and back. He felt more than a slight discomfort, pain receptors on low but still screaming in their own distinct way. When the influx of fire faded, he looked out and saw the Martian Manhunter floating there, arms open.
{Throw her to me, James.}
The Guardian did as he was told, saw J’onn catch her, then went back to the task at hand. Before he could reach the next survivor, the fires began to flicker, began to fade, and then they were sucked out of the apartment block by an immense gust of wind. A blue and red blur moved past him, and then a second later James was outside, held up by none other than the Man of Steel.
“The building is clear and I put the fire out, Guardian. Let’s get you the medical attention you need.”
While the Guardian sat on the edge of an ambulance sucking oxygen, the Martian Manhunter spoke quietly to Superman. He couldn’t hear their conversation, and wasn’t interested in listening in. Even with his body riddled with enhancements to create the ultimate super soldier, he needed oxygen to breathe, he needed it to function, and breathing in the scorching hot napalm fumes had taxed his system. The paramedics had nearly cried out when they watched the blackened chunks of burnt flesh fall off his back in sheets, but when the skin and musculature grew back, they stopped hyperventilating.
“It’s called a healing factor,” said the Guardian, taking a brief break from the oxygen tank. “Military grade.”
“Uh, sure, sure, and you’ll, uh, be okay?” asked the paramedic.
“Soon enough I will be. I’ll need protein, but I’ll handle that in my own time. How are the others?”
“Good, sir, good,” said the second paramedic. “And, ah, can I say it’s good to have you back in Metropolis, sir? My grandmama always sang the praises of the Guardian.”
Harper smiled. Somehow, even out of uniform, they recognised him. His shield was sat beside him, as good a calling card as ever. Metropolis was where his life had begun, before the experiments, before the war changed his life forever. He always came back, even when it wasn’t the best place for him to be at that time. That was the nature of it. But when you were a superhuman living in a city protected by the world’s greatest superhero, inadequacy didn’t come into it. The simple fact that there was a man who could do a job you did better than you could ever dream to do it meant you sought challenges elsewhere, out in the world. The Guardian went from the protector of Metropolis streets to the protector of whatever, whoever, wherever needed him.
Superman looked over at the Guardian, waved once, and then departed. The Martian Manhunter floated back to Harper’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. The paramedics gave them space. “Kal sends his regards.”
“Not sticking around?”
“There are more pressing concerns. And the other concerns are ones we are in a position to deal with.” He held up a scorched piece of paper, that had letters pasted to it to read one word: BURN.
“Someone just tried to kill you?”
“And they would have got away with it too, if it wasn’t for you. But the culprit is still at large… and I do not like that one bit.”
“Then this is a job for the Justice League. I assume you’ve already started putting together a list of possible suspects?”
The Martian Manhunter smiled sadly. “It’s not a short one.”
The Guardian took one last slug from the oxygen tank then patted the Martian Manhunter on the back sympathetically. “It never is.”
LAPUTA:
Blue Beetle materialised into Laputa and made a beeline for the conference room, where the Martian Manhunter was sat in the chairperson’s seat and the rest of the remaining Justice Leaguers discussed what happened around him. The Guardian was busy eating the biggest ribeye Ted had ever seen, while the others-- Cyborg, Green Lantern, Majestros and Wonder Woman-- were going through a large list that floated down the middle of the meeting table, discussing their options.
“What have we got?” asked Blue Beetle.
“There’s been a death threat made against the Martian Manhunter,” said the Guardian, swallowing the latest mouthful of steak with a gulp of water. “Sorry, I need protein to… never mind…”
“They didn’t waste any time. You’ve only been back for two minutes!” said Beetle, looking over at J’onn.
“They never do wait long,” said the Manhunter.
“Something to do with Savage?” offered Majestic.
J’onn shook his head. “There was no malice toward me, just defeat.”
Cyborg looked up from the list he was combing through. “I’ve already spoken to Shilo, and there haven’t been any signals broadcast to or from Vandal’s cell since we left. Not that the mad old guy couldn’t find a way.”
J’onn waved his hand, dismissing the point. “I don’t think it was an attack aimed at me because of Vandal Savage.”
“And this is our list of suspects? Quite a who’s who of pyromaniacs,” said Beetle. “Heatwave, Scorch, Human Flame… just to name a few. Why do you think they’re the ones behind this? You’re not exactly their go-to antagonist.”
“It’s hard to explain. There was a psychic component to the attack, but it wasn’t intended by the culprit. I felt utter, burning malice. And there’s a flavour to that, a flavour to that kind of anger. And from that, I extrapolated this list. Fire manipulators who like it. Don’t you agree?”
“All right,” said the Guardian. “Makes sense to me.”
“Does it?” retorted Blue Beetle.
The Martian Manhunter stood and walked toward Blue Beetle. “It is hard to explain. You wouldn’t understand, Ted. My Martian psychic self… it’s so sensitive to these kinds of things. Please, trust me. All right?”
Blue Beetle kept hearing that turn of phrase. It wasn’t ‘all right’ though, was it? But this was the Justice League, and he had to trust his comrades. He felt a dull ache at the back of his head, a migraine coming on, but didn’t think twice about it.
Blue Beetle looked back at the list as it streamed down the middle of the meeting table. “Okay, then. Who’s taking who?”
“I’ve divided the list, suitable for each of you. I’ll stay here and coordinate our efforts,” said the Martian Manhunter.
CENTRAL CITY:
Mick Rory, better known on the Rogues-scene as Heatwave, sipped his beer. His battered but ever-reliable zippo was sat by his napkin, and he contemplated setting the latter on fire and watching the flames dance their merry jig, but knew that the owner of the bar would probably frown on it, and he didn’t need that kind of heat coming down on him.
“Hey. You were pretty easy to track down, all things considered.”
Lazily, Rory turned and was punched square in the face by the Guardian. Harper hitched the Rogue’s hands up behind his back and cuffed them, then frisked him. He pulled one pyro-gun from the shoulder holster, then found small bottles of hard liquor stuffed with small cloths inside his pockets. Tiny Molotov cocktails made out of the small bottles you’d find in a hotel minibar. Cute, but still dangerous as all hell.
“Even without your costume on, you’re a grade-A nut. Why’d you attack the Manhunter, Heatwave? What was the endgame? Your fingerprints are all over the damn letter, you idiot.”
“What? What’re you talking about, you sonofabitch, I--”
The Guardian slammed his forearm into the back of Heatwave’s head, knocking him out instantly.
“Yeah, you’re under arrest.”
SAN FRANCISCO:
Head down, Snowflame snorted a line of cocaine and reeled back, grinning. His eyes lit up and the twisting white flames that wracked his body throbbed, twisted, wrapped around his arms and crackled ready to be thrown.
The man was alone in the apartment, but there was something edging up the back of his neck, some sixth sense telling him that he needed the hit, needed the boost, because something was about to happen, something big and loud. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was his time to do something nasty.
Behind him, a wall seemingly imploded with a muffled, depressed gasp; the debris suspended in place, in midair, for a split second before falling down. Snowflame had never seen anything like it. The resulting damage was restricted to the wall, nothing much by way of collateral. That wouldn’t do. Frothing at the mouth, the villain cast his burning white fires at the gap, but a figure stepped through, shaking his head.
“What-- who--?” hissed Snowflame.
“You need a detox,” said Cyborg, white noise cannon raised and primed. “Let me help a guy out.”
“No-- no--! I am Snowflame! Every cell of my being burns with white-hot ecstasy! Cocaine is--”
Cyborg thumped the villain across the top of the head, knocking him out immediately. “Well, you’re a terrifying joke, aren’t you?.”
ACROSS THE PLANET:
Majestic didn’t need to take his time. The list in his head was clear. Even the ones imprisoned, even the ones that were under lock and key, they were easy enough to scoop up ready for interrogation. He was a scarlet and white blur, zipping in where he needed to go and vanishing without a trace, the only difference being the absence of the fire-wielding villains he had snatched up.
Fire Fiend, one of Captain Marvel’s old foes, had been hiding out in Argentina with the recently reawakened Fire Disciple, an enemy of the Justice Society from World War 2. In Dakota City, the former hero known as Slag had been napping in an abandoned tenement bloc. Berlin was the next stop after that, where the mysterious, potty-mouthed Scorcher was laying low. Over in Roppongi, the Yakuza assassin Sakki had been enjoying rice wine until his relaxation time was interrupted. Flambe… Pyra-Maniac…Slagg… Incinderella… Doctor Phosphorous… Heatmonger… Arson Fiend… many more, all deposited where the Martian Manhunter instructed the villains to be taken.
All in all, an easy five minute’s work.
GOTHAM CITY:
Gotham City had rarely seen a sight as magnificent as Wonder Woman, but she didn't plan on sticking around for long tonight. Firefly was holed up in an abandoned fire house-- an irony-- and she didn’t give him a chance to pull his flamethrower on her. She hoisted him up by his throat, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Gotham’s protector.
“What are you doing here?” asked Batman. He held himself differently than usual, more than likely due to the injuries he’d experienced at the multi-angled tentacles of the inter-dimensional being that had possessed both Green Lantern’s ring and later the Dark Knight’s own body. He was better than expected considering the short Purple Healing Ray treatments he’d been granted, but they both knew he shouldn’t be out in this state. “Not that I don’t appreciate the assist…”
“Someone tried to kill the Martian Manhunter. He believes that Firefly could be behind the attack. Something about an experimental accelerant used in the bomb that matches Firefly’s crimes.”
“I did it! I did it!” shrieked Garfield Lyons. He thrashed about in Diana’s grip, but he wasn’t going anywhere fast. Without his gear he was just a badly scarred man with a fire fetish.
“I didn’t think it would be that easy,” said Wonder Woman, her brow creasing.
“It’s not. I’ve been on Firefly’s trail for days. Robin’s paper trail work shows he’s not left Gotham City for a month. He’s been planning something big here.”
Firefly nodded. “Burn the amusement park burn it all down see them burn see the fire--”
Batman shot Lyons a look that shut the ranting maniac down immediately.
“I located every bomb you planted. Your fuel source made it an easy-enough job. The GCPD have all the evidence they’ll need to send you back to Blackgate. Or Arkham, depending on the story you spin to the DA. Either way, you’re done.”
“The attack took place in Metropolis. Let’s see what the truth of the matter is.” With her spare hand Diana unhooked her lasso and then looped it around Firefly’s wrist. “Did you engineer the attack of the Martian Manhunter?”
Firefly screamed and blood exploded out of his nose. He passed out immediately in Wonder Woman’s hand and she lowered him to the ground.
Batman examined him, but could find no cause for the sudden attack. “He needs medical attention.”
“What was that?” wondered Diana.
NEW YORK:
“Look, thanks for surrendering so easily, I didn’t want to have to beat you up,” said Blue Beetle.
“You got me, fair and square,” said the Human Flame. “I don’t want to get my face knocked off for it.”
“Reasonable man.”
The two men were sat in the front room of the Human Flame’s shabby apartment. Kord had simply knocked on the door in full-costume, made his presence known, and the villain had shrugged and given up. Apparently his costume wasn’t in full working order, so it’s not like he could do anything other than throw a punch, and he wasn’t in the best shape to do something like that. So instead, he’d put the kettle on, found some instant coffee, and the two men were making small talk as infomercials buzzed on the television set. The costume was splayed open on the kitchen table, the mechanisms exposed as the Human Flame had tinkered.
The Human Flame shrugged and took a sip from the sludge he’d conjured up from the back of the cupboard. “Y’see, I’m not a loon like some of the guys in this game. I’m not even wearing my costume. Without that, I'm not a threat to nobody. So yeah, take me to your leader.”
“I have a quick question before all that, before I arrest you and cart you off to jail. Why’d you attack the Martian Manhunter? What made you think that would be a good idea?”
“I hate him so much,” replied the Human Flame, twisting his moustache despite himself.
“Yeah, but he’s the Martian Manhunter, you’re wrestling above your weight class in a big way, trying that on with him.”
“But, uh,” the Human Flame looked at his hands. “What?”
“Okay, I’m bamboozled, you can talk it out with your lawyer, then we’ll see what’s left of this situation.”
A number of voices began to buzz into Blue Beetle’s head through the nanotelepathic link they’d been using since the Martian Manhunter left Earth. How long until they’d have to go back to the psi-link provided by their old friend?
{This is Green Lantern. I’ve located Volcana and Scorch. They’ve admitted their part in the plot against J’onn’s life.}
{Snowflame is in the bag. He’s admitted his part in the plot against J’onn’s life. Then he puked on my feet.}
{I have Firefly in custody. He’s admitted his part in the plot against J’onn’s life, but I’m looking into this further with Batman. Something odd is going on.}
{I’ll speak to Batman personally. Let’s clear up any confusion,} came the Martian Manhunter’s voice. {Where are you exactly?}
“Sir?” asked the Human Flame, his voice wavering.
The Guardian’s voice came in next. {I have Heatwave in custody. He’s admitted his part in the plot against J’onn’s life.}
“What is going on…?” whispered Blue Beetle.
Martian Manhunter’s voice cut through again. {Blue Beetle, what’s your situation?}
“Sir, I’m, uh,” the Human Flame wiped a bead of blood from his nose. “I’m having second thoughts. No, uh, that’s not right. I mean, I don’t… I remember writing the note. I remember… that. But then I don’t. Like… ow. Ow.” He clutched his head and then cried out as something overtook him. Then, without another word, he fell to the floor and began to twitch, caught up in an immense seizure.
{Blue Beetle?} pressed the Martian Manhunter.
“Ah, crap,” said Ted. He checked the villain’s vitals and found his heartbeat to be erratic, his pupils contracting and dilating like an erratic pulse. He’d never seen anything like this in all his life as a superhero, and even during his studies into esoteric science, this was a complete mystery.
{Everything’s fine, uh… BRB.}
“Door!” Blue Beetle bundled up the Human Flame’s costume then scooped up the man himself, before stepping through the portal he’d summoned, straight into the lobby of the closest S.T.A.R. Labs facility. “Uh, Justice League emergency?”
TO BE CONTINUED
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