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Superman: Sound of Silence.

Plotting by He Who Is
Story by The Last Son of Krypton.
Edited by Crestfallen
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Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

Disclaimer Superman and all the characters in this story belong to DC Comics
and Warner Bros.
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Prologue.
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-Nowhen, Nowhere.-

Some say Heaven is simply a kingdom high above the Earth, nestled in the clouds. Some say Heaven can be found hidden among other realms of existence.

But the truth of Heaven is that it lies hidden in the angles of the physical realm, in the corners of the human psyche. It has always garnered the attention of the human populace, always being shrouded in a cloak of mystery that could
only be solved by a journey into the afterlife. But Heaven was more than could ever be imagined.

Standing silent in the fabled Silver Room of Heaven was Zauriel, an angel.

Oh, he had done more than be an angel. He had once taken human flesh and worked with the greatest heroes the Earth would know, the Justice League.

That was why the Presence had called him forth.

The silver skinned angel stood silent, his wings motionless, as the energy of the Silver Room hovered about. Then he could hear the voice of the Presence in his mind. Zauriel bowed on one knee.

"You called me forth," he said. "What is it you wish of me?"

And The Source 'spoke' to its angel... of disturbances, of madmen, and of life and death.

"The 30th century?" Zauriel said in surprise, ever still managing to keep his
eyes shut.

The Presence, the very creator of the universe, continued.

As the Presence spoke in his mind, so did Zauriel in his voice, repeating, almost chanting what the Presence said.

As the nature of the information set in, Zauriel shot to his feet.

"The League!" he rasped. "They're going to die!"

The information the Presence had learned by its omnipotence and imparted to Zauriel had been grave indeed. A figure from the 30th century had gained a deadly power... the power to traverse time. His goal was simple and malevolent... to select assassins of incredible power to destroy the members of the Justice League.

The assassins were to kill the League, but not at the present. They were to kill the Justice League at times before they were protected, before they were heroes.

Zauriel stood still for but a few moments before he turned to the Presence.

"We must stop this!"

The Presence spoke once more in Zauriel's mind, in his very soul. And to it Zauriel grew embittered.

"But I must protect them!"

And the Presence rebutted the angel's statement, telling him the simple truth, that he was to be a guide for the spirit, not the body. And at last Zauriel understood.

"That is why you choose me. I know the League... I must contact them."

But the Presence continued, arguing with Zauriel once more. The entire League could not be called upon. With each day, each hour, each minute, and each second, the power of the Presence grew and shrank, without warning or pattern.

"The power is not ready," Zauriel said solemnly. "You have only enough energy to transport one person through time."

And the true reason Zauriel had been called forth dawned on him. He had to choose the Leaguer most capable of the mission, for he had worked with them all.

Choose.

He remembered it all; his philosphical debates with J'Onn, his discussions of religion with Diana. The times that the Batman had managed to appear as if from nowhere and surprise even him. The days he had ended up racing the Flash. The times he had talked with the Huntress, asking her of her faith when she had killed. Watching Green Lantern grow from a rookie to a hero.

The angel's thoughts turned to the last time he had been with the League. The crisis known simply as Mageddon. Zauriel remembered it all. And he remembered one hero's courage and will to stand against the power of Mageddon itself.

He knew his choice.

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-Metropolis, Present Day.-

Superman sighed as he rounded the side of the Daily Planet. His senses, heightened by the warming rays of the sun, searched everywhere at once. His target, the source of a message that only he could hear.

It had been a simple day at first. Going to work as Clark Kent with his lovely wife, Lois Lane, stopping a volcano in Hawaii, fighting a purple beast known as Bling... just another day in the life of Superman.

Then he had heard it. A high pitched voice from all around him. "Superman," it had said. "Don't worry, Big Blue. Only you and anything that crawls on four legs can hear me. Nice litte gadget I got. Wherever you are, I have a challenge. Come on out in the open and we'll see if you can nab a simple mercenary."

The small explosion of gunfire broke Superman's reverie.

Moving with little concern, the Last Son of Krypton banked to his right as a bullet shot past him, putting a hole in his red cape.

It was the color of the bullet that made Superman glad he had moved.

The bullet glowed green.

Kryptonite.

He knew he had found his man.

Superman gazed out his telescopic vision. Sure enough, he saw a man dressed in crimson and gold, holding a sniper rifle, standing atop a roof.

The Stinger.

Superman had heard of this mercenary before. Completely ruthless and willing to do any distasteful deed for a dollar. Superboy had tangled with the Stinger once before and lost.

Superman would not let the man in crimson and gold get away again.

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"Sonuva," Stinger rasped as he dropped his rifle and armed the golden gauntlet on his right arm.

He had heard Superman was fast... but that was almost too fast for even the Stinger to believe.

He smiled.

It just made the hit more fun.

But then the Stinger saw a red and yellow shield in his face.

"This ends now."

"Not a chance," Stinger said as he somersaulted back ten feet and armed his gauntlet. "It ends when your corpse hits the roof, Big Blue!"

From the Stinger's gauntlet fired a thin cord. It sprang forward and wrapped around the Last Son of Krypton's neck.

"You obviously don't know much about me, Stinger" Superman said as he reached to pull the cord off.

"Oh, I know a lot about you."

The mercenary flipped a switch on his gaunlet and emerald energy lanced out along the cord, striking Superman.

"Kryptonite," the Stinger said.

Superman gasped in pain and fell to his knees, his fingers desperately pulling on the cord around his neck. But it was no use.

"End of the line, Superman," Stinger whispered as he upped the charge. "If it makes you feel better, I'm being paid a lot of money for this. This 'Mr. L' must really hate your guts."

The Stinger smiled as he looked down at his writhing foe.

And then Superman disappeared, the Kryptonite charged cord falling to the rooftop.

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-Nowhere, Nowhen.-

The pain was gone.

That was the first thing Superman realized.

He slowly opened his eyes and found himself in a room made completely of silver. A strange blue energy hovered about.

"Where... where am I?" he said weakly.

"Among friends."

Superman could feel a hand latch on to his. He was lifted to his feet.

Superman shook his head for a moment, his vision beginning to clear.

"I'm sorry about the rough ride," the famaliar voice continued. "But you've been chosen for a mission."

Finally Superman's vision cleared and he found himself standing face to face with his old League teammate, Zauriel.

"Zauriel? What's going on?"

"There is a matter of great importance... a great crisis is brewing... one only you can stop."

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End of Prologue.
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