Author's Note: A note on the narrative shifts below. It goes from the Skull Ship, to the Watchtower on the Moon, and then shifts for a few moments to the anti-matter Universe with Ultraman and Owlman. We complete this chapter by returning to Society HQ in Gotham City and finally on the Skull Ship. Why do I bring these things up? Clarity, constant readers; for your benefit. Cheers.
Previously:
"I needed someone to come back with me. Someone of a mind as cunning as my own—someone who could help me rid my world of the Syndicate and everything they stand for. Someone who knows how they operate, and what lengths they'll go to…for preserving an ideal."
Batman's eyes narrow and he comes to a realization.
"I need you, Mister Wayne."
Now:
"What would be a better way for humans to take control of their own destiny?"
"You would kill the metas just to make yourself comfortable?"
"Again, you misunderstand. What I'm trying to do here is really quite elementary. I'm going to save both worlds—yours and mine—and then…"
"And then what?"
"We can live our lives as we ought to."
"You're lying to yourself again."
Alexander Luthor scowls and turns to Batman. The Dark Knight, as he was called on this Earth, is restrained—held relatively motionless by shackles anchored in the floor plates. He won't be going anywhere.
"Only a cynical person would call what you have a life, Mister Wayne. Crime, despair, misery. Mankind was not meant to live like this—in yours or any other universe."
"You're wrong. There are things worth living for on this planet."
Luthor's eyes narrow. He approaches Batman, and crouches next to him.
"Such as?" Luthor's voice is a whisper. "Surely you don't mean family." Silence. Luthor smiles at Batman's inability to answer and continues. "Surely a comment of that nature, coming from you of all people, is something of a non sequitur. After all, is not Bruce Wayne a loner?"
"You don't know anything about me." Batman grits his teeth.
"But I know what drives you—what makes you dress up every night and try to take on the world when the odds are impossibly stacked against you. I encountered it when I first met Owlman, though his brand of justice was…infinitely more brutal than yours or mine would ever be."
"So?" Batman asks pointedly. His eyes narrow. Luthor makes a note of Batman's increasing irritability, and files it away at the back of his mind.
"You want to save the world, yet you use a light touch. You must realize the folly therein. Sometimes, Mister Wayne, you have to get your hands dirty."
"I won't kill, if that's what you're asking."
Luthor throttles Batman and speaks; his voice is guttural. "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Sooner rather than later, some nut will come for you. Or your family. And when that day comes, you must choose."
Luthor releases Batman from his grip and stands.
"Regardless of your personal leanings, Mister Wayne, this is one battle you cannot hope to sway to your favor."
Batman stares intently at Luthor. His mind is already cataloguing the minutiae of Luthor's movements; how the man carries himself…how extravagantly self-assured he is. A Luthor by any other name…
"Why are you keeping me here?" Batman's voice is weary.
"You're a rallying point, Mister Wayne. Your friends will come looking for you, but I fear that by the time they get here…they'll be left wanting."
Justice League Headquarters. The Moon.
Hal Jordan and Firestorm.
"Are they here yet?"
"Not yet, Jason. Donna said it would take awhile."
"Yeah," Firestorm says quietly. "And Kara? Is she coming?"
"Donna said she'd bring her along."
"Cool."
"Keep in mind," Jordan says, taking on a fatherly tone. "We're doing this in teams."
"I understand. You and Donna—"
"We'll take the Western Hemisphere. You think you and Kara can manage the East?"
"Oh yeah," Firestorm replies, waving a dismissive hand. "We'll take care of it."
"And remember…if you spot Diana, call me immediately. Wait for further action, and if she tries to run, trail her. Try to keep this as peaceful as you can."
"Understood."
Yeah, Firestorm admits to himself. Right.
The Anti-matter universe. The Panopticon.
Ultraman and Owlman.
"So he's on his way back?"
"Are you new? Pay attention."
"This is new. Unexpected. Even for him."
"You're implying something, Ultraman?"
"I'm implying that we be ready when he comes back, you pompous bastard."
Gotham City. Headquarters of the Society.
Black Adam, Dr. Psycho, and Talia Head.
"I'll give the Amazon this," Dr. Psycho says intently. "It's always the one you least suspect."
"Perhaps," Black Adam intoned. "She is a wanted woman. A murderer. In my homeland, there is no crime more unforgivable."
"Then I remind you that we're not in Khandaq, Adam. We're in America."
Dr. Psycho raises his hand. "Point of order. I don't know about the rest of you, but I distinctly remember signing up for this home away from home as a supervillain—not a Rotarian. Since when do we play by the rules?"
"When it behooves us to, Psycho." Talia Head says idly. Her eyes track across the ceiling in boredom. "We have two options. One, hunt down the Amazon and bring her to justice—our kind of justice."
"Or?" Psycho asks, playing the innocent angle.
"Find Luthor."
"The two are not mutually exclusive," Black Adam interrupts. "We can search for Luthor and the Amazon simultaneously. All we need is a sizable strike force."
A small LED projector in the center of the table beeps and comes to life. Talia presses a button on the control panel in front of her, and a green-colored hologram materializes in the middle of the desk. A three-dimensional rendering of Noah Kuttler, the Calculator.
"Hate to interrupt, lady and gentlemen. But I ask that you reconsider your plans."
Talia's eyes narrow. "Is that so, Noah?"
"Yes," he says without missing a beat. "Consider, for a moment, that the League is looking for the Amazon as well. Do you really want to cross paths with them twice in one week?"
Black Adam turns to Talia. "He is right. We cannot risk another confrontation."
"Fine," she says curtly. "Let the League search for the Amazon—let them deal with their internal strife. Meanwhile, let's work on bringing Lex back."
Dr. Psycho raises his hand again. "And how do you want to do this? One of Adam's eponymous strike forces against the Skull Ship? Or how about we just blow it up for good measure?"
"We can't blow it up," Kuttler says frankly. "Let's be realistic. What we need is a diversion. Something that allows us access to Luthor without worrying about the League following us."
"How about the Watchtower?" Dr. Psycho asks, drumming his fingers idly on the table. "Superman might just be dumb enough to think Brainiac was the one who destroyed the Watchtower. And focus his energies therein—as it were."
One of Black Adam's eyebrows arches in consideration, and he regards Talia for a moment. She looks at Black Adam, at Dr. Psycho, and centers on Kuttler's image in front of her.
"Do it," Talia says curtly.
Brainiac's Skull Ship.
Alexander Luthor, of the Anti-matter Universe.
"What do you want to do with me?"
"I need you for a special operation. Brainiac wants you to return to your Earth. But I think we both know what would happen in that event."
"The status quo would remain unchanged."
Alexander Luthor nods silently. The green and purple shell of his armor faintly follows the sculpt of his body. He wears a smug grin, partly stemming from a victory over the Luthor of the positive-matter universe. And partly because of pure genetics. Everything that exists has a certain nature. These things exist as something in particular and have characteristics that make them part of what they are. A is A. And Luthor, no matter what universe he is from, is Luthor just the same.
Cold. Calculating. Always mindful of his surroundings. Always considering ways to turn any situation to his favor.
"Yes," Alexander Luthor replies. "So you're going to come with me. Regardless of your personal feelings on the issue."
"Alexander."
Brainiac's flat voice carries itself into Alexander Luthor's earpiece. Luthor taps an armored hand to his ear and responds.
"What?" His voice is heavy and disdainful.
"Are you prepared?"
"Oh yes. I would prefer to pass through the dimensional barrier before the hour is out."
"Good," the automaton replies.
"Is Batman aboard my ship?"
"Yes."
"Fine. I'll be there shortly."
Continued...