Chapter 1

Earth-36

2044

Gotham

Bruce had the mother of all headaches, and no amount of aspirin could alleviate the consistent dull ache. It began the day Madame Xanadu had come to him, spouting nonsense about the "end of days" and "the four horsemen of the apocalypse." He had threatened to have security toss her out of his office when she'd refused to leave, but the longer she talked, forcing Bruce to listen to her lunacy, the more sense she began to make. Once done, Bruce Wayne had known the fortuneteller had spoken the truth.

Not only that, she'd voiced a fear he'd harbored for nearly three decades. But her visions of conquest, war, famine, and death was so much worse than the threat he knew would eventually destroy his own planet. So he did what any sane man of means would've done in his situation. He'd taken decisive action—time and time again.

But the threat remains. I haven't done enough, not what should have been done years ago.

No he hadn't, although the desire to take that final act had been so strong. So strong in fact that he'd nearly done the unforgivable. And he would have, too, if Clark hadn't stopped him, finally ruining what remained of a dying friendship.

Propping two pillows behind him in his king-sized bed, Bruce reached for the remote control and turned on the television. Flipping channels, he stopped when he reached the cable news show, "Science of Today: Myths and Facts."

Knowing he wouldn't get much sleep tonight with the throbbing headache, Bruce decided to watch the show, hoping the normal string of so-called experts would do the trick and put him out of his misery, their idiocy lulling him into a coma-like sleep.

And the first idiot was introduced with all the pomp and circumstance of a circus freak. Some Ph.D. from Harvard with a shiny baldhead, glasses too small for his pudgy face, and a voice as dull as the plain brown suit he wore.

"The multiverse concept," the Harvard professor began, "is founded upon the idea that what we have hitherto considered to be "the universe" is but a small component of a vast assemblage of universes. According to the multiverse thesis, each universe may differ with regards to their physical laws, in such a way that all conceivable constants and laws are represented in a universe somewhere.

The hypothesis is intimately associated with the so-called Anthropic Principle, which states that our own existence acts as a selection principle determining which properties of the universe we can observe. That is to say, any observed properties of the universe which may at first seem to be astonishingly improbable can only be seen in their true perspective after we realize that other properties couldn't be observed by us, since we can only observe properties of the universe which are conducive to our own existence. The Anthropic Principle is thus used by many people, often in conjunction with the Multiverse principle, to show why we shouldn't be surprised at the astonishingly improbable fine-tuning of the universe for intelligent life."

The professor, Dr. Norman Brigam, spoke as if he were delivering a lesson to a class of freshman who actually gave a damn about his opinion. If the good doctor had been the only guest on the show, Bruce would've moved on until he found something else to watch. But the topic was strangely relevant to his current predicament and the second guest was a man he knew, liked, and respected.

"What is your perspective on the concept of a multiverse, Dr. Stone?" the host asked.

Bruce sat up straighter in bed, curious about Victor's opinion, although he was sure he knew. While the League had disbanded years ago and Vic no longer went by the name "Cyborg," Bruce made it his business to keep abreast of the goings-on of his former teammates. And Dr. Victor Stone had made quite a name for himself since leaving the League and joining forces with his father.

"Well," Vic began, "the multiverse is a theory in which our universe is not the only one, but states that many universes exist parallel to each other. These distinct universes within the multiverse theory are called parallel universes. A variety of different theories lend themselves to a multiverse viewpoint. Not all physicists really believe that these universes exist. Even fewer believe that it would ever be possible to contact these parallel universes."

Bruce knew it was not only possible to contact the parallel universes but to travel there, both of which were damn difficult and took an unimaginable toll.

Before Vic could continue, Dr. Brigam snorted his disagreement, staring at Vic over his glasses in disapproval, if not outright challenge.

"The multiverse explanation is highly problematic, Dr. Stone, as you should well know. Perhaps the biggest difficulty is that the existence of such parallel universes can be neither verified nor falsified. The model is thus ad hoc and contrived. Second, given that the biofriendliness of the universe is in no way conducive to cosmic sustainability, no form of selection process or 'cosmic evolution' can be invoked. Third, if the multiverse thesis is to commend itself as a plausible hypothesis, then a mechanism for generating such universes needs to be advanced. The concept of a 'bubble' of universes, each with their own fundamental constants and values, only throws the paradox back one step - as one could easily ask who built the generator to give rise to this cosmic lottery."

Victor patiently waited for the windbag to finish, giving the professor far more respect than he deserved. But Victor Stone had always been a tolerant and dignified man, even in his youth. Now, as a man in his early fifties, Vic was the epitome of refinement, intelligence, and class.

He spoke when Dr. Brigam made his concluding remark, as if he'd successfully solved something as simple as a quadratic equation.

"There are four levels, if you will, to the multiverse. The idea of level one parallel universes basically says that space is so big that the rules of probability imply that surely, somewhere else out there, are other planets exactly like Earth. In fact, an infinite universe would have infinitely many planets, and on some of them, the events that play out would be virtually identical to those on our own Earth. We don't see these other universes because our cosmic vision is limited by the speed of light — the ultimate speed limit. Light started traveling at the moment of the big bang, about 14 billion years ago, and so we can't see any further than about 14 billion light-years. This volume of space is called the Hubble volume and represents our observable universe. The existence of level one parallel universes depends on two assumptions: the universe is infinite, or virtually so, and within an infinite universe, every single possible configuration of particles in a Hubble volume takes place multiple times."

"Good theory, my friend," Bruce said to the television, Alfred long since dead to worry about Bruce speaking to himself. "Let's see what else you got up your sleeve for Mr. Brigam."

"I don't think so, Dr. Stone. Science is founded on the notion of the rationality and uniformity of nature. The universe is ordered in a rational way, and scientists seek reasons for why things are the way they are. If the universe as a whole is without transcendency or purpose, then it exists without reason. It is therefore ultimately arbitrary and absurd. We are subsequently invited to contemplate a state of affairs in which all scientific chains of reasoning are ultimately grounded in absurdity. The concept of a cosmic order would then have no foundation. Thus, the multiverse theory undercuts the very premise upon which the scientific method is founded."

"In a level two," Vic continued, ignoring the professor's interruption, his focus on the host instead of the flustered Brigam who clearly did not appreciate the subtly effective snub, "parallel universe, regions of space are continuing to undergo an inflation phase. Because of the continuing inflationary phase in these universes, space between us and the other universes is literally expanding faster than the speed of light — and they are, therefore, completely unreachable."

"That's fascinating, Dr. Stone. I'm sure my viewers would love to hear about the other two levels. Please enlighten us all."

"Yes, Dr. Stone, please do enlighten the flock," was Dr. Brigam's sarcastic retort.

Again, Vic ignored the man.

"A level three parallel universe is a consequence of the many worlds interpretation from quantum physics in which every single quantum possibility inherent in the quantum wavefunction becomes a real possibility in some reality. When the average person thinks of a 'parallel universe,' they're probably thinking of level three parallel universes.

Level three parallel universes are different from the others posed because they take place in the same space and time as our own universe, but you still have no way to access them. You have never had and will never have contact with any level one or level two universe, but you're continually in contact with level three universes — every moment of your life, every decision you make, is causing a split of your 'now' self into an infinite number of future selves, all of which are unaware of each other.

Though we talk of the universe 'splitting,' this isn't precisely true. From a mathematical standpoint, there's only one wave function, and it evolves over time. The superpositions of different universes all coexist simultaneously in the same infinite-dimensional Hilbert space. These separate, coexisting universes interfere with each other, yielding the bizarre quantum behaviors. Of the four types of universes, level three parallel universes have the least to do with string theory directly."

Bruce had considered most of what Vic had just said, some of which, from his experience, he knew to be true, other parts of Vic's theory was plain false. If proper steps were taken, future selves could be made aware of the action of their past selves.

"That simply is not true, Dr. Stone. As a scientist you should know better than to argue such notions without scientific facts to support your contentions. Without a scientifically rigorous means by which such a multiverse concept can be tested, verified and falsified, the idea remains as but a conjecture - a fudge factor invoked merely to evade the apparent design of our cosmos. In addition, the idea suffers from a number of scientific difficulties and problems."

"Such as?" the host asked.

"Whereas one knows that one universe exists, one does not - nor can - know whether more than one universe exists. Once observers exist in universe A, the theory of general relativity indicates that the space-time envelope of that universe can never overlap the space-time envelope of any other possibly existing universe. In other words, even if God made ten universes, we would forever lack the scientific means to detect any universe besides our own. The sample size of universes therefore is limited to one. Thus, the only rational option is that there exists only one universe and that God exquisitely designed the universe for the benefit of mankind."

"So," Victor said, turning to face his colleague in science, "once you pull back the layers of your so-called scientific argument, it simply boils down to a religious debate. And while I may believe in the existence of God, Dr. Brigam, my belief is one of faith, which doesn't preclude me from also acknowledging the existence of parallel universes, or even the existence of other gods."

The good professor shot boulder-size daggers at Vic. But Vic had faced-down Darkseid and parademons and survived, a narrow-minded bookworm like Brigam meant nothing to him. Besides, Victor was friends with a demigoddess, he knew very well that gods existed in many forms and in many faiths.

"As I was saying, there are four levels of universes. A level four parallel universe is the strangest place and most controversial prediction of all, because it would follow fundamentally different mathematical laws of nature than our universe. In short, any universe that physicists can get to work out on paper would exist, based on the mathematical democracy principle: Any universe that is mathematically possible has equal possibility of actually existing."

"So what you are saying, Dr. Stone," the host said, clearly intrigued by the topic of his show, "is that we are not alone in the universe, that there may be multiple Victor Stones or Norman Brigams on other Earths?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. But there are so many questions I have yet to find answers for. I'm not arguing that a parallel universe is the same as a mirror universe, just that there is an inordinate amount of similarities."

That point Bruce could agree with one-hundred percent—similar but not identical.

Feeling exhausted and like he could sleep for a week, Bruce clicked off the television, unwilling to listen to whatever else Dr. Brigam had to say. Come tomorrow, Bruce would have a critical decision to make, but first he would contact Vic and have a nice chat with him about multiverses. Then he would skip his doctor's appointment. No need spending an hour in the doctor's office to only have the woman tell Bruce what he already knew.

I'm dying. Old news.

No, Bruce would avoid that appointment. Instead, he would make two phone calls. They may have cut him out of their lives, but Clark and Diana were still his friends. And it was past time for them to deal with the situation head-on.

Giving a verbal command, the lights dimmed, shrouding his room in familiar, cozy darkness. Bruce huddled under the covers and closed his eyes, the headache ebbing as he entered the dream state. When he dreamed, it was one of three dreams he'd had since making that first fateful trip, crossing time and space, interfering with the nature and order of the multiverse, witnessing the event that would doom them all.

But it wasn't truly his dream. It was theirs, Bruce a voyeur of a weak, selfish moment that would forever change the fate of his friends and the multiverse.

Earth-36

2014

The battle with Doomsday had tested Superman, fighting the creature all over the world, even into outer space. He'd thought about all the promises he'd made—to protect the people of Earth, to protect the good citizens of Smallville. Then there was Diana, Lois, and Lana, three women who meant the world to Clark. He couldn't let them down, he wouldn't let them down.

So he'd fought. With all he had, Superman had fought the monster, doing the unthinkable when he killed him. But it had to be done. Imprisonment was no longer an option. Doomsday had proven that even the Phantom Zone could not contain him. Rehabilitation and rational discussions were also not options, for Doomsday was a creature meant to do one thing—kill.

No, Superman had made the only decision left to him. Doomsday had to be stopped, and Superman had stopped him.

But he'd also inhaled destroyed remnants of the beast, a toxin to humans if left in the air for the wind to disperse wide and far.

Yet it had done something to Clark, or he thought perhaps it had. His head was foggy, his heart raced too fast, and the violent visions wouldn't cease.

Earth-16

2014

"Open up," Superman yelled, banging on the Fortress door to admit its owner.

"Voice print positive," the AI said. "DNA analysis negative."

So angry my skin feels like it's burning. And then I see why.

Exoskeleton had pushed its way through his skin, giving his fist a menacing edge that would brutalize even the fiercest of enemies.

I should be terrified. I should be running to my friends for help.

But he didn't. He flew away from the Fortress and the snarling, red-eyed Krypto who sensed the wrongness in his master.

He flew.

And flew.

And flew, telling himself that what he knew to be true wasn't really happening to him.

He told himself this lie, willing it to be true, needing it to be true. This was just a bad reaction to consuming Doomsday's particles. It would soon past. It had to past. Clark would be all right. This time tomorrow, the illness would have run its course. Surely it would have. Superman was no danger to the world. He had stopped the danger, killed the monster that threatened them all.

As time zones changed and day morphed into night, Clark found himself the last place he should be. But he couldn't help himself. When it came to her, he could never help himself.

Earth-44

2014

Diana wondered how long Clark intended to hover outside her bedroom window. She'd been asleep but was awakened by a sonic boom. That had been thirty minutes ago. Thirty minutes of him doing an aerial version of pacing.

From her bed, Diana could make out the agitation wafting off him. The same irritation and anger she'd sensed after the League had found him after his battle with Doomsday. Superman hadn't been himself, looking as if he wanted to kill Luthor with his bare hands, not that Diana could blame Clark. Luthor was not a man to be trusted, so Diana had sent Clark away.

So she was surprised to see him in London so soon after his ordeal. She'd assumed he would take a couple of days to himself at the Fortress before venturing out again. Still, she was pleased to see him, but also full of concern. He wasn't acting like the Clark she knew.

And he looked so very lost out there, clearly undecided whether he should have come to her, which made little sense to Diana.

Knowing he needed time to come to terms with whatever was going on inside his head, Diana made no move to get out of bed, or to even let him know she was awake and aware of his presence.

He would come in, or he would go home. The choice was his to make, either way Diana was there for him.

She closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep. Diana had no idea how long she'd slept before she felt a warm, nude body spooned against her—manhood thick and hard.

Earth Prime

2014

He shouldn't be there, Clark thought, slipping into bed behind Diana. He really shouldn't be there. Clark should've gone home to Metropolis. He should've taken some time to figure out what was going on with him. But his flight had taken him to her door. And now he was in her room, her bed—naked and uninvited.

He reached for Diana, a trembling hand to her smooth, soft hip. A bare hip. The woman slept in the nude. Clark knew that, but the reminder nearly brought a growl of beastly possession to his lips.

She's mine.

And he was hers. That's what she had told Zod and Faora when they had attacked him.

Clark needed Diana now, the same way he needed her then. Not to help him win a battle, but to help remind him of the man he felt slipping away from him, which, in a sense, was a different type of battle.

"You're always welcome here, Clark," her sexy cultured voice came in the darkness.

"There's no other place I would rather be." The hand stroking her hip glided to her stomach, then up to a breast, finding and playing with a nipple.

"We don't have to…we can just hold each other and sleep. We don't have to make—"

Flicks to her taut nipple had Diana moaning, unable to finish her thought.

No, they didn't have to make love. But Clark needed to make love to Diana. He needed to feel normal, like a man instead of a beast. He needed her arms and legs around him, telling him all would be fine. He needed to be inside her wet, warm body, feeling her pulse around him as he drove feverishly into her. He needed to come hard and repeatedly, drowning out the other voice in his damn head, mocking him that the battle was not yet won.

"I need you," was Clark's whispered confession. "I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be touching you like this, shouldn't be thinking more of my needs than your own. But I am here, and I don't want to leave, which makes me one selfish bastard."

Rolling onto her back, Diana stared up at him, a hand going to a cheek and running from eyebrow to chin and back again.

He wished she would say the words he longed to hear, the words he'd been waiting months for her to say back to him.

Just say it, Diana. This once, please tell me you love me as much as I love you.

But she said nothing, just continued to stare up at him, caressing his face with tenderness and trust that stirred something deep in his soul. In that moment, it was just Clark and Diana—a man and a woman.

A man who was achingly hard for his goddess.

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing, nipping, and licking. "Let me make love to you, Diana."

She should have rejected him, should have thrown Clark out on his ear. But Diana did neither. Instead, she pulled him on top of her and permitted Clark into her heavenly body, her female heat.

When it was over, when Clark had sated the man and the beast, he waited for Diana to fall asleep, rose from the bed, dressed, and then stared down at the woman he loved. Writing her a brief note before he left, Clark kissed Diana's cheek, careful not to wake her.

During the flight home, Clark had the same recurring thought. I should have stayed away. Dammit, I should have stayed far away from Diana.

But it wasn't too late to make it right. It wasn't too late to protect her from what he was becoming.

When Clark got home, he waited a few hours and called Diana, leaving a voice mail on her cell phone at a time when he knew she would be unavailable to answer her phone.

"Hey, gorgeous. I might be away for a while. Don't come looking. I just…I need some time."

As excuses went, the voice mail had been a pretty lame one. Worse, it would only stave off the inevitable for a few days. Eventually, Diana would come looking for him. And Clark had no doubt his Wonder Woman would find him. Unfortunately, she wouldn't find him alone, or as he should be.

He'd made a huge mistake the night before, and so had Diana.

Four Dianas.

Four Clarks.

One mistake.

Times four.

Conquest.

War.

Famine.

Death.

TO BE CONTINUED