Praeter
Ch. 3
Author: Miss Lizz
Rating: R for dreams, violence, life, and death.
Disclaimer: I do not now nor will I own the JLA. Not yet anyway. Keep your lawyers at bay.
Once by the PacificThe shattered water made a misty din,
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky by being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.
--Robert Frost
Along the outer rim of the building-choked ground zeroes of Mexico City and Hong Kong, more devices like what caused such devastation were found that had yet to detonate. All were disposed of quickly. None could be studied beforehand except quick glances. That these glances could see through most materials really meant very little.
Who could be doing this? There was nothing and no one that could plan something of this scale that they had faced before. The League was on full alert, constantly at guard for whatever caused the obliteration of so much and so many. For there was no telling when or where the next strike could occur. How could they expect anything when all that had been handed them was the unexpected? It chafed them mightily to think they were almost completely powerless against such force as this.
The detailed illustrations prepared by Green Lantern, coupled with the information gleaned from the x-rays of Superman and Martian Manhunter found a paradox. Containing the same amount of power as an M-80 firecracker, there was no way the boxy little devices could cause as much damage as they did; it was simply impossible.
Something was missing, some piece of the puzzle that had yet to be unearthed. An enormous amount of energy was being tapped, but how? Was the firecracker in a box merely the spark to an inferno or something else entirely?
Almost had one… pity… p'rhaps next time. Time. Time time time time time… how delicious.
All the time in the realms… what fun this is… not long now… no one can stop…
… Souls… mine…
What was that? J'onn opened his eyes where he'd been resting in front of the computer after looking for an hour on an idea he had. Had he heard that right? Was that laughter? It had sounded like…
He shouldn't be resting; there were things that needed to be done, information that needed to be checked. If this theory of his had any grounds, he would have to tell the others. Right now, no one knew what he had seen in that light. Even he barely knew what he saw. There was a figure… he had seen that figure before somewhere. It had a scythe, long black robes, and… it was laughing. All at once it struck him.
Death.
Or at least a version of Death was what he saw when that light burst against his chest. Could it really be Death though? The one he knew would never do anything like what was happening down on Earth. Could it be an imposter then? No, in that version of Death, there was another name…
The reaper.
It's rather melodramatic, isn't it? He couldn't stop the thought when it entered his head; he was so exhausted he actually found it funny. There had been no sleep for him since this tragedy began and it was going on three days, even he was worn down to the point where he could hardly think straight. Not a good thing for a telepath who kept everyone in contact with each other. Every minute had been spent planet side helping the rescue teams in the seemingly endless task of searching for survivors and bodies.
When he was first been picked to take a rest break, he had resisted and managed to keep working for another day. The next time was an order by Diana, who even now slept in her quarters. As his eyes drooped close he smiled, if it had been anyone else but her, he would undoubtedly still be down in one of the cities.
Lifting a pile of rubble that covered valuable medical supplies inside what was once a Moscow infirmary, Superman spied movement from under some chunks of concrete and gingerly lifted the debris to find a young woman who looked to be a nurse. She was badly injured but it didn't look life threatening, thank God. Were there more in here? He thought as he scanned the mound.
Yes, there were at least a dozen more that lived. He would have to hurry.
A little over half a mile from where Superman freed trapped people, Plastic Man kept numerous children and more than a few adults from sinking into panic or shock with his antics. It was a tough crowd, he thought.
In Hong Kong, it was Batman, Green Lantern, Hawkman, and other heroes who helped the emergency workers. All over the world, the heroes worked along side firefighters, police, paramedics, and volunteers in the effort to save as many people as humanly possible.
They couldn't help but wonder though: what was next? Would all their work come to naught?
He had just slipped into sleep when his eyes snapped open suddenly. He was no longer alone in the room, other people—beings—were with him. Knowing who they were, he also knew he must be dreaming and it didn't faze him that he now wore mail and sported a broadsword. In truth, he hardly noticed his change in dress.
"You wish to ask something of me?" Do I bow before them? They are gods after all.
"There is no need to bow, J'onn J'onnz. My sister seeks your aid," the thin, pale, black-haired man spoke quietly and gestured to a similarly dressed young woman beside him who smiled.
"Hello. J'onn, you know who I am, don't you?" All he can do is nod silently, "Good, then you know what I do." She looked down at the ground for a moment. "Were you aware that you're the one living being in this realm who has seen this reaper fellow and survived?" Death went on, not waiting for his answer, "It's astounding you did, actually. I don't believe anyone else could have. But anyway, I need to know if you can do something for me. I'm asking you, and you alone, to journey here," she pointed down and he found they were hovering over the tops of an ancient forest, dark and turquoise, with a silvery castle off in the far distance, "and defeat the Reaper. Can you do this?"
The Martian stared out over the vast ocean of forest and considered her request. "Why me? There are far better heroes for the job than I. Why alone? How am I to get here?" Wherever here is. "And how do I defeat the Reaper?"
She smiled, "You're a warrior, you're nearly the strongest person on Earth; again you've seen this thing and lived. And since you're wondering why you were chosen over any of your companions it's because of some of your more unique abilities," she paused. "And out of your friends, you're the least likely one I would meet again. I'd never want anyone to kill themselves and as we're not allowed to take life…" She let the sentence hang, "Defeating is up to you but Morpheus will show you how to get here… This guy is bad news, he's abusing his power in taking souls and not letting them go on, and he's giving Death a bad name. I hope you nail this guy. Good luck."
With that, J'onn was left alone back in the Watchtower with a silent Dream. Then they were traveling but not moving over sea and land and the city of London until they were outside a small old shop.
"This is where you are to go. The old woman is expecting you to come and she will send you through."
And then he woke up and for several minutes did not move. He had a feeling there was to be no returning from this one despite what Death said. Never to see or speak with any of the others again, he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that suddenly clouded his vision. No. There mustn't be any crying, no selfish tears for this, no selfish thoughts. He had to do this for the good of all. No goodbyes and no telling the others about this because he had to do this alone, no matter what happened to him.
If only he could say goodbye…
End ch. 3
Is it getting any better? Or should I simply stop? I know J'onn isn't the most popular character but… he's the greatest to me and he deserves more stories. He deserves much more. Maybe that's one of the reasons I love him so much, he's deserving of so many things and like so often he's ignored for the pretty boy in the red cape…
This is becoming a dissertation. I'll stop now but please, if you'll just review this politely, I would greatly appreciate it.
Thank you,
Miss Lizz