CHAPTER ONE

I

Sometimes Guy Gardner wondered why he bothered teaching high school.

He certainly didn't need the money. In fact, thanks to his bar 'Warriors', Guy need never concern himself with being employed again. Even with mild competition from Booster's new Planet Krypton restaurant some blocks away, Warriors was still as popular as ever. It was seldom in the red and always yielded a tidy profit. The financial security afforded by the bar had given Guy to pursue his need for adventures without the vulgar concerns of money. Which was indeed fortunate because his times were occupied much of late, what with keeping company with Buck Wargo and then playing leader to the Crusaders.

It was just that in between all the extraordinary events that seemed to make his life one long roller coaster ride, there appeared to be more quiet moments that he would care to admit. Unlike the rest of the Crusaders whose private lives seemed to require much attention, Guy did not have that concern. When he was a Green Lantern, Guy had believed it to be a full time occupation and discarded any need for a secret identity. However things had changed and he was no longer the Green Lantern of Sector 2814. His playground that had once been a large chunk of space had dwindled significantly and kept him bound to one planet.

Guy didn't mind not being a Green Lantern any more because the kid who now wore the emerald ring was doing okay by Guy's standards. It was just that he did not know what it was to have a private life after so many years of not requiring one. The rest of the Crusaders had no difficulty adjusting to being civilians when there were no replicants and errant mystical entities to fight. Beatriz De Costa when she was not the super heroine Fire, was the Revson girl. Her modelling career took her across the world and although Guy missed her when she was gone, he was proud of her success. Besides, he had to confess that there was nothing like walking into a room with her at his arm and seeing man in the room turn green with envy.

Hey, he hadn't changed that much.

Ted Kord, who was once the unluckiest of them all, had appeared to change his fortune. Ted was now CEO of Lightspeed Entertainment, a software company that he had carefully nursed into a multi-million dollar giant. Although Ted remained a partner with Booster, he had been left in charge when Booster had gone off to pursue other projects. Not that Ted appeared to be too heartbroken now that he was involved with a certain raven-haired beauty with eyes older than world. Guy was actually surprised that Zatanna Zatara would actually give Ted the time of day. They seemed so unlikely and yet it worked beautifully. Guy supposed he should be the last one to judge unlikely relationships. No one had believed he and Tora would last either, but it had. In any case, Guy was glad that between the two of them, at least Zatanna had the mindset of someone older than ten.

Ted was crazy at the best of times.

Since the conclusion of its first mission, less than a month ago, the Crusaders had been playing it low key. Despite the camaraderie of being a team again, its members had to be realistic. Their time in the League had come to an unceremonious end because they allowed their personal lives to intrude on the work. Guy did not want to see the Crusaders end that way. Thus, at one of the meetings, it was decided that all of them should spend adequate time keeping their private lives in order. In the old days when they were still Leaguers, Maxwell Lord had taken care of everything. He paid their bills, put a roof over their heads and kept the mediocrity of everyday life from ever intruding into their heroic existence. While it was nice to be taken care of like that, it tended to make them complacent.

When the League collapsed, they realised just how much Max had taken care of and for many of them, the lesson learnt had began with a steep descent into despair. Guy himself, had undergone changes that opened him up inside and made him evaluate the future and his part in it. Even without Tora. He realised then that more than anything, he loved being a hero. It surprised him even more to realise that his love for it had nothing to do with and glory or the fame.

Once upon a time, the glamour of it had been everything to him but not any more. During the months following the loss of the ring that made him a Green Lantern and before he discovered his Vuldarian heritage, Guy did a great deal of soul searching. He remembered what it was like to be weak. Guy remembered how it felt being bullied by someone stronger just because he was too weak to stop them. Those years had made him stronger as an adult and set out the path for the rest of his life. Just like General Glory, he would fight for those who could not. He would offer the hand that had been denied to him.

Why?

Because he could.

It was shortly after the formation of the Crusaders that Guy decided to return to teaching full time. To be truthful, he had been teaching before the formation of the group but only as a substitute teacher in the tougher neighbourhoods of New York. His presence had been mostly as a security measure, rather than a concerted effort at actually teaching students. When a position was offered to him to teach social studies at one of the high schools in Brooklyn, Guy had found himself accepting without question.

Wargo and the others had thought he was crazy. However, their reaction only served to convince him that he was doing the right thing. Beatriz thought it was a great idea and Guy had gone to his first day feeling pretty good about his decision.

Okay, reality seeped in eventually. It did not take long before he realised just how much work lay before him. Washington High was a typical of any school far removed from the excesses of Manhattan Island. Here, the people lived on welfare, were mostly blue-collar workers and were completely aware that the deck was stacked against them the moment they found themselves on the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The kids, whose education was his responsibility, were a monument to the illusion of the American Dream. They were second generation immigrants, whose parents had come here hoping for something better and finding that the streets of America were not paved with gold. Far from it actually. The streets they knew, were paved in the white certainty of Crack, gang violence and a growing underclass that were beaten even before they began. It was enough to make a superhero feel like a complete failure.

He walked into the school hoping to teach and finding most of his students, looking at him with a mixture of indifference and downright contempt. They knew who he was of course. It was probably the only thing that kept him from getting a knife in the throat by some of the students wearing gang colours. Guy was determined not to give up. He had fought creatures none of these kids could even begin to comprehend and one thing they learnt quickly, Guy Gardner did not scare easily.

For weeks, he stood in front of a classroom full of kids who saw him as the enemy, a defender of the status quo of which they were the most exploited. They baited him, insulted him, at some point even tried to attack him but Guy stood firm. He had the blood of the most fearsome race to ever emerge from the cosmic byre, running through his veins and he did not intend to let a bunch of teenagers' get to him. Not that they did not come awfully close at times.

An amazing thing happened after a few weeks though. Guy was so surprised that when it finally happened, he did not know what to think. He actually thought it might have been a trick. They began to acknowledge him. Slowly but surely, whether it was his perseverance or sheer stubborn stupidity that impressed them, Guy could not be certain. However, they allowed him the chance to prove that he was more than just a superhero.

They took him at his word.

**********

For Guy Gardner, speed was relative.

After he had seen the Flash run a mile in less time than it took to bat of an eye, everything else seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. A great deal of his perceptions fell into the context of meta-human world. He ran with an extraordinary crowd and normal standards seemed outdated and lacking any ability to surprise. Thus when he had taken over the job as coach of the athletic team, he was rather dubious that he could objective when viewing the potential of normal human beings compared to his meta-human colleagues.

The first time he saw Kevin Sharp run, all doubts left Guy's mind.

The boy was a bona fide sprinter. He moved through the wind with so much ease, Guy was almost tempted to believe that he was meta-human. In his youth, Guy had played college football and he could tell the difference between a flash in the pan and a genuine prodigy. Kevin Sharp was the latter. He worked hard to be the best and Guy was able to see a future for the boy that did not involve gangs or drugs.

"That's the best time yet." Guy said as he studied the stopwatch in his palm.

Kevin was breathing hard, rivulets of sweat glistening off his ebony skin. He walked across the rubber surface of the track towards Guy who was waiting from him on the grass. The State Athletic trials were only weeks away and Guy truly believed Kevin had the talent to win it. The opportunity to the boy's future could not be underestimated and Kevin too much potential to waste. Winning the trial could get him an athletic scholarship and Guy did not intend to let him lose that chance.

"You really think I got a shot at this?" Kevin looked at him sceptically.

"I wouldn't waste my time other wise." Guy said slipping the stopwatch into the pocket of his track pants.

"Yeah, big time superhero and all." Kevin grinned.

"Better believe it." Guy retorted. "Look, you got the speed and you got the drive. I think you can go all the way, provided you work at it."

Kevin sighed and dropped to the ground. Guy wondered if he was ever filled with so much doubt when he was seventeen. Of course he was, all seventeen-year-olds were. He admired Kevin a great deal, to grow up in a neighbourhood like this; free of all the dangers that had trapped lesser wills. Kevin was one of the few who struggled to be free of the ghetto, who saw an education as an asset not a waste of time. The boy did not even realise his potential until Guy had seen him run the first time. He was a natural athlete and given the right guidance, he could be a world class one.

"What's the problem kid?" Guy asked planting himself into the soft grass next to him. Beyond the horizon of the sport field bleachers, the sun was beginning to set. It was hard to imagine that a harsh world existed outside this place with its bright uniforms and youthful voices. There were still other kids on the field, some engaged in football practice and other team sports. Guy wondered if all of them had Kevin's reservations. God, he hoped not.

"I'm thinking whether its worth it." He looked at Guy directly.

"I've been where you are kid," Guy said honestly. "It is worth it."

"College is four years of my life," Kevin pointed out. "I can't expect my momma to take care of my brothers and sisters on her own. I should be helping her out."

Guy knew something of Kevin's situation at home. His mother had lost her husband years ago and had been raising four children on her own. Over the last month, Guy noticed that Kevin's lunches were made and although they were anything but fancy, had the undeniable traces of a mother's touch. This was a woman who cared how her boy ate and from what Guy had been told, actually made appearances at what passed for the PTA in these parts. So with a certain amount of confidence, he knew the lady well enough to be able to speak in her place.

"I think your mother would prefer it if you got that scholarship." Guy replied. "Your mom is a pretty tough lady, I think she wants the best for you."

Unfortunately, Kevin did not seem convinced. "I wish I could help her out."

Even though it sounded cliché, the best advice Guy could give him was the one Kevin was already aware of. "You know how to do that already Kevin. Give her something to be proud of."

Kevin smiled faintly and rose to his feet. In the distance, the sun was gradually disappearing from the afternoon sky. "I better get going. I got stuff to do."

"Try not to party too hard," Guy retorted knowing that was the furthest thing from Kevin's mind. Being the oldest child in the family, his responsibilities to extend to the younger siblings he was charged to look after during his mother's absence.

"Sure coach," Kevin said picking up his sports bag, before continuing to on to the locker room.

Guy watched him go, wishing that it was not necessary to simply accept the way things were. Kids like Kevin deserved a chance at being more than just a statistic. He could sense the boy's concern regarding the merits of a college education compared to what a paying job could mean to his family. He would speak to Wargo and see if they needed another hand at Warriors or perhaps Booster needed another waiter at his restaurant. In any case, Guy had better find a solution to Kevin's problem soon, before the lure of quick money ruined him forever.

II

A college education was not something Kevin Sharpe had ever considered within the realm of possibility. His ambitions had never expanded beyond the desire for a high school diploma to get him the job that would help ease the burden on his mother. Kevin had never been interested in drugs and the gangs because he had seen what both had done to his father. Last Kevin had heard of the senior Mr Sharpe, he had been doing time. No surprises there. Still, he was determined not to go down that road because he could not bear to see the look in his mother's face if she ever knew.

Instead, he tried to do what the coach had encouraged him to do. To work hard at school and never give her a day's grief. If that meant being called a coward because he refused to carry a gun or sell crack, so be it. The fools who did that were on a one way ticket to a quick death any way. Still, he could not ignore them with their fancy cars and the wads of cash they stuck in their pockets with bejewelled hands.

But the money was nevertheless tempting.

Kevin walked along the grimy sidewalk, trying not to hate everything that this neighbourhood represented. Was it a pipe dream, hoping to get out of here? At times, he truly did not know for he was seventeen years old and the world had already disillusioned him. Everything here was grey, the low rent tenement buildings, and the wooden houses that were far away from being dilapidated. He stared at the faces during his journey and saw that they too were grey, trapped in amber as he was.

Kevin was lost in thought and regret for his existence and completely unaware that he had been followed since he had left school ten minutes ago. He turned around the corner that would take him to the cul-de-sac where a beaten weatherboard house waited for his return. The sun was almost completely set and he knew it was probably best to get inside before the darkness enveloped the neighbourhood completely. This was not a safe place to be at night.

The lights of his house appeared over the crest of the hill when he heard his name being called behind him. The voice was familiar and so there was no reason to be alarmed. Kevin paused and looked over his shoulder.

"Hiya doing Hex." Kevin greeted one of the few people he called friends.

Hex was very much into the game but Kevin did not care because Hex understood him. They had been friends for as long as Kevin had lived here and even though Hex wore vibrant gang colours that had never intruded on their friendship.

"Man you walk fast." Hex retorted as he reached Kevin. Hex had dropped out of school when he was sixteen and had gone to work for the gangs. His clothes were designer labels and the bulge under his coat told Kevin he was packing heat. Kevin tried to ignore such observations because it was not his place to judge Hex and the life he had chosen to lead. Just as Hex did not judge him for his own convictions. "I've been trying to catch up with you."

"What's up man?" Kevin asked, since it appeared that Hex was after him for a reason.

"Listen I know you hate selling and all that stuff but I got a business proposition for you." Hex said leaning close.

Immediately, Kevin stiffened, disliking where this conversation was going. Hex noticed his reaction and quickly responded. "It ain't nothing like that man." He declared somewhat wounded. "But it is sweet and right up your alley."

Kevin let out a sigh but was still unprepared to completely trust Hex just yet. However, he was not averse to hearing Hex out. "Talk to me."

"You're an athlete right?" Hex said wearing a broad smile. For a moment, he reminded Kevin of one of those used car salesman on late night television. "While I know some action that you might be interested in. Some high roller is looking for strong, healthy types for these private games he's got going. Its nothing illegal and I hear the money is really good. You interested?"

Kevin was interested but was unwilling to commit himself until he knew more. If there was one thing he had faith in, it was his athletic ability. If he could use it to make some quick money that was not illegal, what was the harm? He would be helping his momma and he would not be getting into any trouble that would affect his chances of a scholarship.

"Okay," Kevin said firmly. "Tell me more."

*********

His time had finally come again.

How long had it been? The years had moved past so quickly, hiding the shadows of his defeat with the ravages of time. He remembered those left behind, who had not survived the war and each memory stabbed at the core of him, rekindling waves of hate at those who caused his fall. For a long time after the end, he was tempted to disappear into the security of anonymity, to forget the dream that destroyed the others.

But it would not disappear.

It stayed in the mind as the Furies had once pursued Orestes across the world. Every moment served to remind him that those who had caused the Fall were now glorified as none before while his and those who followed him were vilified as freaks of nature. It enraged all that was strong and proud within him until there was no recourse but to stand up and remind the world of who he was and what he had demanded to be.

However, he would not make the mistakes of the past. He would remain hidden in the shadows like the predator he was. He would make them love him and be willing to die for him. This time, his weapons would not be savagery or fear, although they would always know it was never best to incur his anger. No, this time he would play the game wisely. His enemies still existed and when he was strong, there would be plenty of time for revenge.

For the moment, there was much to occupy his time. Those who become part of his army would first have to survive the test of blood. Weaklings had led to his downfall. This time he would cull such influences before they were given leave to cause him any harm. He had to harden his own resolve as well because once it was faith in another that had been his undoing. There would be no one before him and she who would serve to try, would find herself ripped to shreds.

There was no greater betrayal than she who was called woman.

He had learnt that lesson all too late. She burned in his memory, she whom he wanted to make queen to his king. He had found her, even though she had tried to hide in the aftermath of what happened. Almost dead and greatly wounded, he had crawled through the agony of defeat and found her. It was with great relish that he tore her limb from limb and that feasted on her flesh as a final reminder to himself of her terrible sin.


They say revenge is hollow. They were wrong.

She was but the first, in time there would be others.

When he struck, it would not be at a name. He remembered the faces well. Each burned into his memory like the pain they had inflicted upon him. All of them, supposedly perfect specimens of man. An evolution of god and human. They had the audacity to mock his godhood and call him a monster. He had looked into the mirror a thousand times and knew that they had lied. In their eyes, he had seen envy because he evolved beyond egg sucking primates into a higher order of being.

He understood now why they had sought to destroy him, because he would make them all obsolete. He would not kill them, not all. In fact, what would make his eventual revenge so deliciously sweet would be how he dispensed justice for his fallen children. He would give them the secret of his godhood and empower them with a new existence they never imagined possible. They would be in striking distance of perfection.

Before he put the chains around their throats and damn them to eternal slavery at his feet.

Yes, he would enjoy that a great deal.

********

Guy walked into his social studies class, hoping for the best. As he entered, he saw a sea of familiar faces behind the steel desks in the room. His eye moved across their faces, knowing that the one he sought was not here but was nonetheless compelled to look. They came from a variety of ethnic backgrounds, his students, Latino, Asian, African American and Caucasian. Some appeared indifferent to his presence, others looked at him with expectation and then there were those who glared at him with unconcealed hatred. Guy had come to expect that after a month here. These were the forgotten youth of America, forced to carve their future in this wasteland of public education. Schools in these neighbourhoods were under funded, with textbooks older than they were and equipment that could rarely be replaced when damaged.

After a moment, he had to conclude reluctantly that his hope had been in vain. Among the minds that he had attempted to reach, Kevin Sharpe had offered the most encouragement and he was not here. In fact, Kevin had not been to school for the past week. With each day, Guy's concern started to expand beyond the boundaries of the normal teacher student relationship. This was not a boy prone to take such indulgences with his academic career, such as it was in a place like this. According to the rest of the faculty, Kevin was a good student with an exemplary attendance record in comparison to most.

If he was not here, it was for a good reason.


Guy reached for the book on his table and opened it without really reading any of the pages or aware of what topic he had intended to cover today. His mind was still wrapped around the subject of Kevin's absence. The inner instinct that kept him alive in so many battles had started to sing its siren song of warning in the back of his mind. He looked to the back of the room, where a young Latino girl was in the midst of a quiet conversation with her boyfriend who sat at the next desk.

"Hey Theresa," Guy called out. "You live near Kevin, don't you?"


Theresa was one of his less hostile students. She was a pretty thing, an active participant in class room discussions and one of the few that might make it out of this neighbourhood if she did not get pregnant first.

"Yeah Mr Gardner," she replied, her voice thick and accented but possessing a melodic quality to it. "He lives around the corner from me."

"Do you know where's he's been all week?" Guy inquired, trying not to sound meddlesome but unable to hide his concern to the those in the room.

"What you worried about your boy?" Someone in the room sneered. The remarked provoked a short rumble of laughter from the back section of the room.

Guy did not have to see whom it was to know who had spoken. The boy sat right at the back of the room and was surrounded by the members of his gang. They were a variation of Puerto Rican and Latino, who had made their contempt at his presence known, almost immediately after he started teaching this class. The leader, a fearsome looking kid named Alvarez, ruled the senior class with his collection of switch blades and worse once he was outside the school. Guy had earned his enmity because Alvarez could rile him.

Guy gave Alvarez a look that translated pure ice and silenced the punk from speaking any further. Alvarez shifted uncomfortably in his seat before letting loose a series of expletives under his breath. Guy returned his attention to Theresa. "So have you seen Kevin around?"

"No Mr Gardner," she said casting an apprehensive glance at Alvarez who might take exception to her if she chose to answer him. "I haven't seen him at all."


Guy let out a sigh, realising that he should not have expected any better from them. He did not blame Theresa because he understood the rules of her world. She had to live among people like Alvarez and Guy could not blame her for wanting to stay out of trouble. This was no school yard bully she had to deal with. Alvarez would have little conscience over killing her if he felt she had somehow crossed him.

"Thanks anyway." He answered before turning his attention back to the book in his hand. "Okay, let's talk about what's going on in Washington today."

**********

He knew he was letting himself get too involved but Guy could not help it. For the first time in many years, something other than fighting alien threats and mystical monsters had made him believed he was capable of making a difference. When he had returned to teaching, Guy had promised himself that there would be no half measures on his part. He was not going to be one of those teachers who claimed that things are the way they are and he should not be responsible in raising any false hopes. Kevin was not a false hope. He was a good kid and someone had to give a damn.

He stepped out of his car and looked at the weatherboard house the Sharpe family called their own. It was old and it was far from being a mansion but there were signs that it was frequently painted and the small patch of green that passed for a yard, was well tended. Guy walked through the rusting front gate and noticed a child's red wagon parked in the middle of a sand box. He could hear voices of children behind the front door.

Guy stepped onto the front porch and heard the wood creak underfoot. Knocking on the front door, he waited for a moment before it swung open. The woman who emerged before him was in her late thirties but could have been older. She was a handsome woman was but time and worry had left their marks on her lined face. Guy could see Kevin in her face, mostly around the eyes and lips. He could also see the redness in those eyes that indicated she was emotionally wrought even if she tried to hide it with as much dignity as she could muster. Her face softened upon him seeing however, probably because she recognised who he was.

"Mrs Sharpe?" Guy asked politely.

A ten year old boy stuck his head from around the door way. "Momma, its him! Its Warrior!"

Guy shifted uncomfortably, wishing now he had that secret identity that he had so easily discarded years ago. He was here not as a former member of the Justice League or as a superhero but rather as Kevin Sharpe's school teacher. He wanted no more recognition beyond that.

"I've seen you on television." She declared.

"I'm still a nice guy." Guy replied and was pleased when she rewarded him with a faint smile. "Mrs Sharpe, I came to see Kevin."

Her eyes immediately dropped to her feet and from the sudden silence of the child next to her and her inability to meet his gaze, Guy immediately knew something was terribly wrong. "Please," he urged. "I'd like to help if I can."

She swallowed hard and looked up after a moment. "Please come in."

Guy followed her into the house and was shown into the living room. The boy kept staring at him wide eyed, despite the apparent crisis the family was facing. The house was modest and well kept. It was not at all lavish but Guy sensed the warmth here and knew Mrs Sharpe kept her family well. Now more than ever, he realised how lucky Kevin was and why he was so torn about making his mother work another four years to put him through college.

I should have listened more. Guy told himself. I should have come through for him before this.

"This is my son, David." Mrs Sharpe introduced the child. She rubbed his head affectionately as she did so.

"Do you really know Superman?" The boy asked trying to restrain his enthusiasm.

Figures, Guy thought silently. "Sure, the Big Blue and I see each other at every major crisis." He answered trying not to sound too sarcastic.

"Davey, why don't you go out back and keep an eye on Michael and Phoebe." Mrs Sharpe instructed, aware that their conversation should be held in private. Although the children were aware that Kevin was missing, Mrs Sharpe saw no reason to further add to their anxieties. The boy nodded quietly and plodded off towards the backdoor, through the kitchen. Guy had the impression that Mrs Sharpe was hiding nothing from him.

When they were alone, she made a few obligatory offers of coffee or refreshments. Guy accepted a glass of lemonade out of politeness. He could sense how worried she was and her concerns heightened his own. What the hell had happened to her oldest son? In this neighbourhood that question could have translated into anything but then the school would have been notified in the event of a death or even trouble with the law.

"I want to thank you for all the kindness you showed Kevin." She began slowly, her fingers were knotted hard on her lap. "You can't imagine what it was like for him, to have someone like you show an interest."

"He is a good kid." Guy said honestly touched by her words. In the world of superheroes, it was easy to forget how extraordinary a paranormal must seem to every day humans. "Mrs Sharpe, where is he?" He asked finally.

She took a deep breath. "He didn't come home from school on Friday. I haven't seen him more than a week. I've looked everywhere and I've called all his friends but they haven't seen him."

Her voice was starting to crack and Guy wished Beatriz was here, he was not good at being comforting. Kevin had been gone a week? He thought back to the Friday, which was incidentally, the last time Guy had seen Kevin. The boy had not confessed to having any special plans for the weekend. If he recalled correctly, Kevin had mentioned something about having stuff to do but Guy had naturally assumed he meant at home. "Have you gone to the police?"

"I did when I got home that night," she continued. "But they were no help. They told me they couldn't file a missing person's report until 48 hours after the disappearance. I couldn't wait 48 hours, I know my boy," she exclaimed desperately. "He wouldn't stay away like that unless something was wrong."

Guy did not have to hear the rest being able to visualise the full entirely of her meeting with the police. Kevin was after all, just another black kid, living in the slums. If he was missing, it was probably because he was shot up on crack or into something illegal. It was hardly worth the effort of the police to waste time searching for a kid who was mostly likely to show up as an offender.

"I believe you Mrs Sharpe." Guy declared because she needed to hear it. Her son was missing and instead of being aided by the local authorities who would bend over backwards, if the kid had been from Beverly Hills, she was treated like some overwrought nut. "Kevin wouldn't do anything illegal, he cares too much about you for that. If you let me, I'd like to try and find him. I can't let my star runner go astray can I?"

He managed to get a grateful smile out of her but neither voiced the reality of the situation. Kevin had been gone for a week already. If he had not returned home yet, chances were good it was probably because he could not. Under such circumstances, the possibilities of what might have happened to him narrowed to an unhappy conclusion.

Guy hoped it would not come to that.

II

"Sire, we have a problem."

Titus stood by the door. He would not enter the room unless his master had given him permission and his master had not. The great man sat behind his desk, his enormous hand drumming his thick fingers over the smooth surface of the fine oak desk. The Master often kept his room in the dark, for he liked the shadows and the security he afforded. Of course, Titus was not about to confess to knowing any of these things.


The master liked keeping his secrets.

"Be specific Titus." The Master said coolly. "The gift I have given you has allow your form to transcend the mundane but it did not destroy your ability to articulate."

Titus bowed in acknowledge neither injured nor angered by the insult. The Master was right of course, he always was. "Someone has been inquiring about one of our charges."

Through the darkness, he saw the Master's eyes flare with reddish light. "Police?"

"No," Titus shook his head. "Not the police."

"Then what concern are questions to us?" The Master retaliated. "Those who could answer them know better than to speak to strangers about our affairs. Have our lessons not be instructive?"

More than instructive, Titus wanted to say. He had seen the remains of those who had crossed the master and the thought of it sent shivers of ice down his spine. His master did not suffer betrayal well and those who were unfortunate enough to bear his wrath, had cause enough to regret it. "It would not normally have caused me concern, Sire, except the one asking the questions may be a danger to us."

"I waste no more time with this!" The Master bellowed. His voice was a loud roar that bounced across the walls and forced Titus back into the shadows. "You will speak clearly Titus."

Titus felt his heart pounding in his chest, almost afraid to tell his king what had been brought to his attention. Unfortunately, matters had progressed beyond his ability to make the decision on what was to be done about the situation. "I am sorry Sire," he said summoning up the courage to speak. He was privy to the violence the Master was capable of when he was enraged and Titus knew he had real reason to be afraid. "It is one of the superhumans."

The master's enormous fist curled into a bawl and he smashed his hand against the desk so hard, Titus actually saw the wood buckle underneath his flesh from the strain. "Which one?" The Master demanded, his voice nothing more than a low growl.

"It is the superhuman called Warrior." Titus answered.

"How did we overlook that?" The Master asked. "I had believed our charges were carefully screened."

"The superhuman is apparently a teacher at his school." Titus explained quickly. "Our agent was unaware of this when he inducted the boy."

"Has the boy undergone the process?" The master inquired with no trace of the former fury in his voice. Now he spoke as calmly as ever, filling Titus with confidence that he knew how to proceed. Titus chided himself in ever doubting that the Master could ever be outmanoeuvred. The Master was all things great. A true king.

"Yes," Titus answered. "Although he was unsuitable to be an Alpha, we had him placed in the Omega tanks. He was scheduled to be removed tomorrow."

"I see." The Master let out a sigh. "We cannot risk discovery now, not when we are closer than we have ever been. What do we know of this superhuman?"

Titus fumbled for the papers in his hands. Like all good aides, he had produced a full dossier on the superhuman known as Warrior to precipitate the master's question. Letting his eyes scan over the pages, he quickly picked out the relevant facts that would interest the master and neglected the trivialities.

"His real name is Guy Gardner and goes by the code name Warrior. According to the reports he is one of the metamorphae, apparently possessing the ability to morph into a variety of alien weaponry. He has been classified as a Level 8 superhuman, extremely formidable and highly aggressive."

"A metamorph." The master mused with uncharacteristic interest. "That might prove to be quite interesting." For a moment, the Master remained silent as he contemplated the next course of action. "Send a contingent of Alphas," he said after a few seconds. "I want this Warrior captured alive."

Titus blinked. "Alive, Sire? Is that wise?"

"I want him taken alive Titus, make that very clear to the Alphas. If the superhuman is harmed by any of them, it will be at my severest displeasure." His eyes seemed to glow even brighter as he said those words.

"Of course sire," Titus swallowed, knowing full well that it was not a threat to be taken lightly. "May I ask, what you intend to do with him once we have him?"

The master did not answer but through the darkness of the room, Titus saw a gleam of light bouncing through a smile of long sharp teeth.

**********

Guy Gardner was not happy.

He walked down the steps of the high school's main entrance feeling somewhat depressed. The lack of progress in his search for Kevin was difficult for him to accept. For the past two nights, he had been scouring the neighbourhood, shaking down every two bit hood that slimed across the streets of Kevin's world. He had come up with nothing. No one had even heard the name Kevin Sharpe and even less knew why he had suddenly fallen off the face of the planet.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon of ugly, grey buildings hours ago and when Guy emerged into the school parking lot, his was the only car still parked there at this time of night. He supposed he should have known better than to leave a new model Cherokee Jeep in this neighbourhood and not expected it to be on blocks when he got back. Still, the vehicle survived intact to face the odds tomorrow. After a full day in a classroom and then spending the past two nights searching for Kevin, Guy was ready for an early night.

Still, he could shake the feeling that something terrible had happened to the boy, neither could he face the fact that perhaps he was too late to save Kevin already. Both conclusions left him helpless and impotent that he, Guy Gardner, Vuldarian champion, could do nothing to protect one young boy. The taste of defeat was something he could never stomach.

He reached the jeep and fumbled for the keys within the inside pocket of his jacket. Guy was considering the possibility of bringing Ted in on the search when he almost missed a flurry of movement behind him. If he was anything but a Vuldarian, he might have missed it. Immediately, all thoughts of Kevin evaporated from his mind as the alien seed inside Guy Gardner surfaced like a swamp alligator about to snap.

He continued the pretence of trying to open the car door as they approached. Through the reflection of the passenger window, he saw them moved towards him. There was a certain grace to their advance, a fluidity of movement much to smooth to be human. Guy remembered thinking that only Bats had the expertise to practise stealth with such efficiency. They narrowed the distance between themselves and the prey with little knowledge that Guy was ready for them.

Suddenly, the dead of the night was broken by the sound of glass breaking. It erupted in quick succession as Guy swung around. Darkness enveloped him before he realised that one of them had shot out the light globes in the lamp posts. He could not see which one. In the dark, they attacked. They leapt towards him like coiled springs. Guy had barely enough time to morph Vuldarian armour across his skin as the first attacker landed on him.


Guy fell against the windscreen with such force the glass shattered beneath him. He managed to throw the attacker off him before he was knocked off his feet by something that had the strength of a locomotive. Guy hit the pavement hard enough to be dazed for a few seconds. His attackers, taking advantage of his momentary lapse, pounced at him from all sides. The united assault only served to enrage him who then unleashed the full fire of Vuldarian battle lust. His arms morphed into plasma weapons that gave no quarter as the artillery fire spewed from him in all directions.

Amidst the roar of the weapon, he heard the high pitch screech of what he could only describe to be animal sounds. He was aware that some had fallen, because he could see their dark silhouettes crumbling to the floor across hot embers of plasma. Despite the flare of the plasma weapon, it was still difficult to see what exactly the creatures were that he was fighting so savagely. He lay down a wall of plasma that effectively halted any more lunging attacks and the sounds they made did not appear to be remotely human. Perhaps now that they were somewhat subdued, he could find out what this was all about.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt a sharp sting in his neck. Instinctively, he reached for his neck and knew immediately felt the warmth of blood under his partially formed fingers. The pain was hardly registrable but with a sinking feeling, Guy realised whatever was fired at him had penetrated the skin. His gaze scanned the distance and quickly honed in on a lone figure at the top of the school building.

Decoys! Those who attacked him were decoys!

The pain struck him with the force of a physical blow. Its initial impact was so sharp that Guy could not help crying out. Seconds crawled by as the pain increased to such intensity that he was forced to his knees. His arms began to lose shape as he was unable to maintain his morphing abilities.

"What have you done to me!" He managed to scream as the tendrils of agony slithered to the core of him.

They stood watching him, their faces still hidden by the dark, saying nothing. They had done what the Master had instructed. The poison inside the veins of the superhuman would do its work. Although the prey still struggled against the venom, he was lost and they knew it. Perhaps he did as well.

As the dark overcame him, Guy allowed himself one final thought.

This was gonna to hurt.......