THE AVENGERS OF JUSTICE
Author's notes: This is a re-posting of a story I left unfinished. I wanted to re-tell it better than I had been telling it in the first place, so please bear with me. I will now take a few moments to explain the events leading up to this cumulative event, as this story will feature dozens and dozens of characters from both the DC universe as well as the Marvel universe. This story will feature long chapters, as there are so many characters to cover.
Many of these ideas and concepts will be taken directly from comics, television shows, and/or movies with original ideas tossed in as well. I claim no ownership of these characters, all rights belong to their respective owners. This fan-fiction is not for profit, but for mere enjoyment. Further ado, here is a brief background to the story you are about to read. Please enjoy, and if you do, review, favourite, follow. Thank-you! - P
IN THE LAST THREE YEARS...
Superhuman activity has spiked across the globe. To the public, the first major event was that of the Superman, but he was only the beginning. More and more sightings and incidents arose. The world soon came to know many of these superhumans as superheroes, but with good always comes evil. Many battles were waged, heroes and villains colliding in epic battles, costing billions of dollars in damage.
This created a divide within the people. Many loved and supported the heroes, praising them, citing need for them. While others rejected them, regarded them as a problem. And so the divide within the people became greater and greater. Protests began to happen; local law enforcement was barely enough to contain the violence. The country - the world - had never been more divided.
The public called on elected officials to take action, yet those in power could not settle on any course of action. The United Nations were divided in their ideals and allegiance.
In the United States of America, a presidential election was being held, and the issue of superhumans became the defining factor. Democratic nominee Henry McCoy believed that all superhumans deserved the same rights and freedoms each and every person has. His opponent, the Republican nominee Maxwell Lord, believed in the opposite.
Maxwell Lord believed in laying sanctions and regulations on superhumans, and he used fear and hate to gain support. The election became one sided, with Lord surging in the polls. Lord had gained support from the world's most powerful men and women. His running mate was Lex Luthor, a powerful business man, with heavy ties to the United States Military.
Many of Lord's supporters included: Norman Osborn, Ferris Boyle, Morgan Edge, Simon Stagg, Justin Hammer, and Wilson Fisk - all very respected men in the public's eye, whilst McCoy's support began to dwindle.
As tension began to build, the President of the United States asked for Superman to join him in the White House, to ensure a smooth transition of power. The President hoped in his last few months as president, he could ease the relations between Superman, as well as those like him, and the ones who doubted their dispositions.
And that is where our story begins...
CHAPTER I
Calling To Giants
Outside of The White House | Washington, D.C. | 3:04PM | October 5
An enormous crowd formed around the White House, all there for one reason: Superman. Thousands upon thousands gathered; some showing their support for the Man of Tomorrow, others showing contempt and their ill will. Many held signs; others wore t-shirts. They all expressed themselves in different ways, but they all got their points across.
On the White House lawn, media had assembled. Every news studio imaginable was present; reporters were on the scene filming live, whilst journalist and photographers tried to capture a different sort of essence. Many of the world's greatest reporters were present, all trying to get the story of the century.
Secret Service Agents surrounded the White House. Snipers sat high in windows in various buildings around the block. Security was tight; there was no room for errors. That day would go down in history as one of the most important and historic days of all time; and the excitement was about to begin.
Above the White House, what looked like a blur soon came into focus: Superman hovered above the White House, slowly descending from the clouds. The crowd reacted, loudly, in their own ways. Many cheered and clapped, while others booed and shouted. Law enforcement fought to keep the crowd under control, as Superman landed gracefully on the White House lawn.
Secret Service Agents kept motionless, not wanting to provoke any sudden reactions.
Superman smiled to them, and proceeded towards the White House. He paused for a moment as he passed by the press. In unison, they all began to ask questions, trying to talk over each other. Cameras flashed, the lights blinding.
But Superman ignored the voices and the camera flashes. He focused on one reporter, one woman: Lois Lane. She stood there, staring right back at him solemnly. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before Superman trotted off, continuing toward the White House.
The Oval Office | The White House | 3:18PM | October 5
Inside the Oval Office, dozens of high ranking officials, including the Secretaries of Defense; State; and Homeland Security. The Director of the CIA; the Attorney General; and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and Staff were all present. And of course, the Vice-President, alongside the President of the United States himself, President Suarez.
Superman stood in the centre of the room; all eyes on him.
"Thank-you, Superman, for coming," President Suarez said.
"Of course, Mr. President," Superman replied, bowing his head.
"Before we begin..." President Suarez hesitated for a brief moment, and then continued, "... if you could all leave the room, except for Superman of course."
All those present began to argue, but President Suarez waved his hand, silencing them.
"It wasn't a question; there is no need to protest. Please leave," he said defiantly.
Unwillingly, everyone but Superman and President Suarez left the room. Many of them glaring as they left. Once they were alone, President Suarez sat down and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
"Finally I can relax. They thought I was intimidated by you when in reality their penetrating eyes make my bones chill," President Suarez said, his tone much lighter. "You know, Superman, over the last eight years I've made many allies, but of course, with such a long career, one is bound to make enemies. Three years ago, you saved my life, as well as everyone aboard Air Force One.
"Ever since then, I have considered you one of my greatest allies. Hell, many of the world do. Many countries worship you, which makes others fear you. The reason I called you here wasn't for my own discomfort, but for the pressure the UN is putting on me. They want me to lay clear sanctions on you, as you act of America. They think you're an undercover government agent."
"We both know that's not true," Superman said.
"We do. They don't. And with this election coming up, sanctions and new regulations may become a reality. Look at Mr. Lord, his promises of regulating and controlling superpowered individuals have garnered much support, and it's clear to see why. A man with the power you have, uncontrolled, ungoverned, it can lead to acts of horror," The President continued.
"Mr. President, with all due respect, no one controls me. No one ever will. No matter who sits in this office, I'll hold true to the three things I vowed I would: truth, justice, and the American-way. Even if sometimes people forget what the way truly means."
"I knew you'd say that, and that's why I want you to promise me something: no matter what happens, do not lose hope in the people. For some," the President's eyes fell upon the S crest on Superman's chest, "that's all they have. Do not let fear and hate win. Divided we fall."
"There will always be evil, Mr. President, in all shapes, forms, and political agendas. But I'm used to it, I will not waiver nor falter. I give you my word."
"Their fear isn't unjustified. More and more people who can do the extraordinary are showing themselves. Many choose to commit horrendous acts. The difference is, there have never been people like them."
"Mr. President," Superman said, "there are always people like them. There always has been, there always will be."
Outside of The White House | Washington, D.C. | 4:32PM | October 5
Superman exited The White House, crossing the courtyard. Instantly, the press and the crowds began to roar; their voices all screaming in unison. The roar was deafening, but Superman didn't miss a step.
A chant arose from deep within the crowd. It grew louder and louder until it was all one could hear. Hundreds of thousands of voices, all chanting: "SU-PER-MAN! GO HOME NOW! SU-PER-MAN! GO HOME NOW!"
Superman stopped. He looked through the crowd, at all the faces, from those of hate and anger to those of joy and love. He looked back to Lois Lane, who looked right back. Her eyes were white, her face was pale. He smiled at her, almost as if to reassure her of his promise; the one of his journey.
Next to her stood a photographer, Jimmy Olsen. He, too, was pale. He took photographs, but seemed reluctant due to the circumstance.
"You know him, don't you?"
The voice came from beside Jimmy. Jimmy turned to face another photographer, a young man like himself.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Took the first photo of him," Jimmy said. "You are?"
"Peter Parker, photographer," Peter said, gesturing to his own camera. "I work for the Daily Bugle in New York."
"Oh yeah, heard of them. They don't exactly share the Daily Planet's optimistic outlook," Jimmy pointed out.
"No," said Peter, "they don't." He knew better than most.
Superman rocketed off the ground and soared into the sky. He created a sonic boom as he neared the upper atmosphere, and disappeared from sight, flying off towards the blinding sun.
Gotham News Network Studio | Gotham, N.J. | 8:09PM | October 5
Broadcasting live from the GNN studio in downtown Gotham was the latest episode of 'Gotham Tonight', featuring host Vicki Vale and her nightly guests.
That evening, Vicki's guests were renowned sociologist Jean DeWolff and political analyst G. Gordon Godfrey. The two had been discussing the impact of superhumans in today's society as well as the influence they had in international affairs.
"I mean, look at what is happening," Godfrey said, "we are allowing there individuals with great power to do whatever they want! They aren't taking responsibility for their actions, and that is exactly why we need a leader like Maxwell Lord. We need someone who is willing to stand up for the rights of the little people."
"You're talking about isolating and targeting a diverse and unique set of individuals, Gordon," DeWolff argured. "You're suggesting we bring back segregation against a culture of people we do not yet understand, and that's fear mongering!"
"I'm not talking about segregating, I'm talking about making sure no one is above the law. That everyone, especially those with great power, are still governed and are not exempt to the laws we have here, as well as international laws. Besides, we already have plenty of superhumans who support presidential candidate Maxwell Lord. Reed Richards and Susan Storm for example.
"They have offered their support in furthering science by working together with us. S.T.A.R. Laboratories scientists have been working closely with the two individuals in discovering what exactly happened to them, and if it's possible to reverse, or to use to eliminate certain diseases or conditions," Godfrey rambled on.
"Exploitation. And what about the individuals who do not want to be tested on? The ones that wish to keep their privacy? The ones that hide behind masks?"
"What are they hiding for?"
"Let's compare them to celebrities. Celebrities can't take off a mask and return to a normal life. Many of these superhumans are still humans with lives and families of their own," DeWolff said.
"Ms. DeWolff," Vicki interrupted, "don't you believe someone has the right to know if their neighbour can shoot laser beams from their eyes?"
"They're not all criminals; they do not need a registry" argued DeWolff.
"But they all are dangerous," Godfrey spat, "and don't forget: absolute power corrupts absolutely. Let's not forget, many individuals who led us down horrible paths had to first inspire a nation. We need to come together as a people, superhuman or not, and take off our masks. I mean, look at Superman. What we would - no, what could - we do, if he decided he didn't want to stand for his corny: truth, justice, or the American-way?
"We already have a president who goes soft on these acts of terror many superhumans commit! Henry McCoy is just another coward who can't do what is necessary, and that's why people are losing faith. No one wants a leader who allows weapons of mass destruction to fly freely over our heads!"
Parking Garage | Gotham, N.J. | 10:41PM | October 5
Jean DeWolff exited the stairwell and stepped into the parking garage. It was dark, but Jean had a good memory. She knew exactly where her car was parked.
The night air was cold, and in Gotham, every night was eerie. Her pace quickened as she remembered Gotham's many nicknames: City of Death; America's Most Dangerous City. Statistics of crime ran through her mind. Gotham was not a safe city, especially at night. She gazed out of the garage and up at the dark sky. There, painted on the black clouds, was the symbol of a bat.
Jean heard the stories of Gotham's Caped Crusader, protecting Gotham City for almost twelve years. The Gotham Police Department used the light as a way to keep fear in the hearts of criminals, but she knew better. The Bat of Gotham and his warriors of the night were only fables; but with everything that was happening in the world, giant bat creatures didn't seem out of the question.
She pulled her key fob from her pocket and clicked the unlock button. She froze as her headlights illuminated a large shadowy figure, standing close by. Her heart began racing. She tried to ignore the figure, heading straight for her car. But the figure cut her off.
At first, she wondered if it was Gotham's Dark Knight; but she was no criminal. She was about to be mugged, she could feel it.
"Jean DeWolff," the voice growled in the darkness.
She froze. Her mouth dry, she could only find one word to say:
"Yes."
The figure stepped out into the light, revealing himself. He wore a black armoured suit with a grey skull mask. Two bones crossed each other on his chest. He was large and intimidating. Jean couldn't move.
"You can call me Crossbones; but please, don't take this personally."
An enormous dagger extended from Crossbone's wrist; it shimmered in the moonlight.
"I'll try and make it painless."
And then, he was upon her.
Gotham Skyline | 10:45PM | October 5
High above Gotham City thunder loomed. The city lights shone up into the darkened skies, reaching towards the heavens.
A scream echoed up the city's skyscrapers. Amongst the gargoyle statues on Gotham's oldest infrastructure, one of them moved.
Parking Garage | Gotham, N.J. | 10:48PM | October 5
Another dark figure emerged from the shadows inside the parking garage, but it wasn't Crossbones. He wore a similar suit, black, grey, and armoured. A long black cape was draped over his shoulders, whilst white eyes pierced the darkness from his cowl: The Batman.
He stared across the parking garage, where a car was consumed in flames. He approached it, and noticed a body trapped inside the car. On the garage floor, before the burning car, was a symbol drawn with gasoline, which burned as bright as the car: a bat.
"Hey!" a voice shouted across the garage.
A security guard peered across the garage, frozen at the sight of Batman. He pulled a gun from his waistband, dropping his gaze, but it was too late. Batman was gone.
The Daily Bugle | New York City | 9:31AM | October 6
Peter Parker sat at his desk, reviewing his photographs of Superman from the day before. The bullpen was busy, reporters and photographers rushed around, trying to make their deadline.
"... Breaking news now, we have just been told one of the world's leading sociologists Jean DeWolff was found murdered last night..."
Peter's attention quickly turned from his photographs to the television in the corner of the room. A small group of reporters had gathered around it, listening intently.
On screen was Gotham News Network's Vicki Vale, reporting from outside of cordoned off parking garage.
"Sources are telling us a witness described none other than Gotham's giant bat-monster phenomenon being present at the scene last night. There's no official word yet, but Gotham Police Department has received backlash from claims they have been working with some sort of vigilante. We haven't been able to a hold of Commissioner James Gordon, but Mayor Hill did promise he would be getting to the bottom of it.
"In other news, presidential candidate Maxwell Lord commented on the murder of DeWolff, stating that 'Gotham's police force has been negligent and now there is blood on their hands'..."
Peter turned away, thoughts raced through his mind. Peter knew he had to do something; he faced other criminals before, but this would be different. If the police in Gotham wouldn't bring this murderer to justice, Peter would.
"PARKER!"
Peter's heart skipped a beat. He turned to see his boss, J. Jonah Jameson in his office doorway.
"Get over to Gotham! Get on this bat-creature story, you have a knack for masked freaks!" Jonah shouted, slamming his door on his way back into his office.
The Batcave | Underneath Wayne Manor | 2:16PM | October 6
Alone in the darkness, Bruce Wayne sat in front of an enormous computer, surrounded by a dozen smaller monitors. He watched as security camera footage showed video of the parking garage from the night previous. He watched as the man known as Crossbones emerged from the darkness and killed Jean DeWolff.
"And whom might that be?"Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's loyal and most trusted friend, said.
Alfred pushed a small trolley carrying a pot of coffee and two cups of it. Alfred handed Bruce one, and they both drank.
"A new player; name is Brock Rumlow. Connections in Germany with this man: The Red Skull," Bruce said, pointing to a smaller monitor which displayed a picture of the infamous German Nazi Red Skull. "Also to this man: Taskmaster."
Another monitor showed an image of the Taskmaster. He wore a long white cape and hood, with a black body suit, and skull mask.
"And what exactly do they have to gain from the assassination of a sociologist?" Alfred asked.
"I think they're to send a message," Bruce said, showing Alfred another image: the burning bat symbol.
"Well, whatever it is you plan on doing, I hope it can wait. You have a formal event to attend to tonight: Mr. Lord's," Alfred reminded him.
"That'll be the perfect opportunity to see exactly what he's up to," Bruce said.
"Lucius will be there as well, after all, that joint venture you requested with OsCorp is about to come full circle. Wayne Medical has made some real progress with OsCorp - or so I'm told. Also," Alfred remembered, "Master Dick called. He's sick of Master Damion's company and wishes you to return him to the Manor."
"Dick will be fine for now. It's good for him."
"I believe he wanted some alone time with Ms. Gordon"
"Where's Jason? Tim?"
"Master Jason is currently working with the Outlaws and Master Tim is with Spoiler and Orphan. And before you ask, Ms. Kane is with the Birds."
"Get a hold of Tim, Damian could learn a thing or two from him."
"Very well, Master Wayne."
Alfred began to push the trolley away, when he paused. He looked back at Bruce, and said:
"Be careful, Master Bruce, things have changed in the last few years. These aren't the same criminals you're used to, they're more powerful. They're dangerous."
"Aren't they always?" Bruce asked rhetorically.
Democrat Headquarters | Washington, D.C. | 3:07PM | October 6
Henry 'Hank' McCoy sat in his office, going over new reports. His friend and bodyguard Pyotr Rasputin, a mammoth of a man, sat in a chair in the corner of the room. He played a game on his cell phone: ping, ping...
The infernal beeping finally got to Hank, causing him to slam down his papers. Pyotr looked up from his phone and smiled innocently.
"We have to go back to Salem, Pyotr, I need to speak with Charles," Hank said, clearly distraught.
"Is that smart?" Pyotr spoke with a thick Russian accent.
"I don't know, but these," he gestured to the reports, "aren't looking so great. I know we are undercover, but I need some advice. And I'm running low on my serum," Hank said.
Indeed, the serum was beginning to wear off. Hank noticed large blue veins pulsating through his wrists and ankles. He would soon be reverting back into his normal anthropomorphic form.
"If we must, we must," Pyotr agreed.
"We're losing, Pyotr, and we're losing badly." Hank took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I fear as if we lose this battle, the war is only just beginning. And it will be a war to end all wars; mutants and humans alike.
"Would it be so bad for us to work for the people?" Pyotr asked.
"We wouldn't be working for the people; we'd be working for the world powers. They say absolute power corrupts absolutely, but what happens when you give such a corrupt species absolute power? Signing away our freedom - we'd be weapons."
"We're already weapons, Hank, we just pull our own triggers."
"And I believe we've done a good job at knowing when to pull them. I'm not sure I'd want my trigger in someone else's hand. What's more important, do you think, Pyotr: their safety or our freedom?"
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. One of McCoy's advisers swung open the door and rushed in urgently.
"Hank," he said, panting, "you've got to see the news."
Hank grabbed the remote and turned on the television in his room, where Galaxy Communications was broadcasting live. 'BREAKING NEWS' was superimposed along the bottom screen, underneath the five news anchor, including Cat Grant.
"We have just received word that the nation of Latveria has just declared war on the nation south of its border: Serbia. Latveria is known for its hostility as well as its superpowered leader, a man known as Mr - no - excuse me, Dr. Von Doom. Latveria has launched a full frontal attack on Serbia, including what can only be described as a technological warfare, with many claiming not only soldiers, but robots, are on the battlefield.
"Serbia's Prime Minister Ana Brnabić has requested international help, and even requested the Man of Steel himself to come to their aid. Serbia has been a large supporter of Superman, now it's time to see if he will answer their plea. Meanwhile, we have not yet got word from The White House on what America's response will be..."
Hank looked to Pyotr, and said:
"We have to go - now."
Gotham Library | Downtown Gotham | 6:12PM | October 6
The library's hall had been turned into a dining banquet. All of America's most elite and prestigious were in attendance. Among the elite were all several reporters, ready to cover Mr. Lord's fundraiser dinner.
Among the reporters was Vicki Vale. She lingered by the table, sipping on her drink, when she, and just about everyone else, noticed Gotham's favourite son entering the hall: Bruce Wayne.
Bruce was dressed in a black tuxedo, his hair all slicked back. He crossed the floor and pulled a glass of champagne off a waiter's tray.
"Bruce Wayne!"
Bruce turned around, where he came face-to-face with Lex Luthor.
"Lex, how are you?" Bruce asked as the two men shook hands.
"I'm very well. Glad you could make it. My running mate, Mr. Lord, will be quite happy to see you. I think he's hoping for a public endorsement," Lex said with a foxy smirk.
"He doesn't have enough billionaires on his endorsement list?"
"Speaking of billionaires how's your little venture with OsCorp going? I'm a little offended, Bruce, last time Wayne Enterprises tried to work with LexCorp you backed out?"
"Wayne Enterprises is a progressive company, Lex, we're not military arms dealers."
"And that's why Wayne Enterprises always falls short compared to LexCorp. Did you hear about Latveria? Terrible, terrible. I hear President Suarez will be sending our troops there very soon."
"I bet you're thrilled, after all, you deal with Serbia and America; you must be making a profit."
"Please, Bruce, there's more money to be made in peace, not war. That's why I'm on the right side of history. If we have some safety nets in place, this war may not have happened."
"Well, we can't control the actions of every single person. We'll just have to trust the good guys to do the right thing."
"Ah, the good guys, well, we can call to the giants for help, but what happens when they choose not to answer?"
Bruce and Lex stared at each other, their eyes penetrating each other.
"I just hope Superman saves the day - like always. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne. Enjoy the party," Lex said as he walked away.
As Bruce watched him leave, he felt vibration on his wrist. He checked his watch. The highly advanced watch had a digital screen, displaying one message. It read: 'URGT: 911 CALL'.
Bruce turned and left the hall - it was time to go to work.