A/N : Thanks for all the favorites, likes, and reviews. It's pretty encouraging.

It had seemed like it would be easy enough, at first.

Though he'd still only begun to get a handle on his new body's powers, the few he'd gotten the hang of were rather impressive. Flight, invulnerability, a beam which literally imposed order on its target... He suspected the latter had far more potential than he'd seen in his inherited memories. But with the ability to fix potential mistakes in hand, he went off to resume his predecessor's job.

He touched down, drawn to a spot in continental Europe. The vague visions of alternate futures no longer served as a hindrance, but as a guide. He already had his day planned out: starting from this spot, he would save a cat stuck in a tree. There was a civil disturbance about 20 miles south and 40 minutes after that. Proceeding along that future, he could see a number of problems he could tackle. Riots, out of control supervillains... This world was a fairly grim place, he was starting to see, and that was with the previous Zion working around the clock.

He shunted visions of times yet to come to the periphery of his vision as he drew up to the trapped feline. Glowing light around his hands prevented him from mishandling it as he lowered it to the ground. It was necessary, after all, since his control over his body was far from perfect. Though the previous user had maintained its appearance perfectly, much of it had never been used. Certain muscles seemed completely unaccustomed to activity, and he had a general lack of motor skill. In fact, his hands seemed to tremble as he carefully presented the pet to its owner. Perhaps the first Zion had used its various powers to move its humanesque avatar, he thought, for he noticed that much of his body was trembling.

He wasn't the only one.

The girl he'd presented the cat to had been, like all the others he'd seen as he approached, awed upon his arrival. But her expression grew concerned as she watched him. As he flew away, zigigng and zagging as he tried to master the golden man's flight power, one of his visions of the future showed downright fear and alarm on the part of the townsfolk. Many were talking, texting, or posting things in the aftermath of his arrival.

I did something wrong. he thought. But what?

His second intervention ended on a similar note. The brawl had broken up immediately, but the mood of the crowd had gotten more negative as he departed. He didn't see them starting to fight again, in his visions. But there was a sense of urgency, of doom, almost, possessing everyone who'd been present. Many of them, too, had taken to spreading word of something far and wide.

In the southern tip of Italy, he descended yet again, just in time to see three costumed individuals rushing out of a bank. He found his attention drawn to them somehow, as if he could sense their powers even without his visions of their past and future. It was the latter which identified them as bank robbers.

In no easily accessible future, though, did any of them mount any considerable resistance. One, some sort of speedster, made a dash, but seemed to slow down even before J'onn's golden beam caught him, no doubt realizing the futility of his actions.

The authorities arrived to take his quarry, looking at him with a mixture of amazement and, as they looked at him longer, concern. It might be, J'onn realized, that his lack of motor control was making his act less convincing than he'd hoped. He wasn't good at reading humans - not without telepathy, anyway. He floated over to one, who looked like he might be in charge, to ask a question.

Unfortunately for his act, it seemed that his body's vocal cords had been neglected as well. At first, when he opened his mouth, no sound sound came out. Well, out of him, anyway. There was a collective gasp on the part of the crowd.

The second time, J'onn managed a wheezing sound. Seeing that he'd only worsened the problem, he flew off, in the direction of Africa. The remainder of the day he spent subduing supervillians, mostly. The continent was rife with them, it seemed, and much of it lacked even basic facilities to hold them. He was forced to save as many civilians as he could from their clutches, and fly on. He did this in silence, which, as he now realized through a more careful inspection of Zion's memories, was what the locals were accustomed to. As before, he found himself strangely drawn to the supervillans, and often to random civilians as well. He was beginning to suspect he had some method of power-detection.

As the sun set, he found his way to an abandoned township in South Africa. He was starting to get in the habit of using his powers to avoid unnecessary encounters, as it seemed his predecessor had often done. He noticed that some electronics were still functioning. Mindful of his power's effects, he struggled a while until he managed to turn on a damaged television set by hand.

"- another possibility." said a well-dressed woman, whose title was displayed on the screen.

'Parahuman' J'onn thought, must be their term for those with superpowers. And with the state of this world, its no wonder they'd need specialized health experts.

"It would explain the reported spasms-"

The camera shifted to a 'Professor of Parahuman Studies' as he began to speak.

"It's not even clear that Scion has muscles which could atrophy," the older man interjected. "There are many examples of... unusual capes, with seemingly impossible biologies. For instance, the leader of the Brockton Bay Wards is principally composed, as far as we can tell, of metal. It is possible, probable, even -"

"I'm going to have to cut you off there, professor," interrupted an anchorwoman. "In a bit of breaking news, eyewitnesses are reporting that Scion briefly subdued Moord Nag in Namibia, rescuing a large number of prisoners who claim they were held by the warlord as sacrifices of some sort. International peacekeepers, however, found no trace of her upon arriving at the ruins of her fortress, prompting speculation that she may be in hiding, waiting for the hero to depart from Africa. More disturbing, however, are corroboration by the rescued of earlier accounts of Scion from today. All agree that the hero appeared to be shaking almost convulsively, flying irregularly, and in general displaying considerably slower reflexes than in the past, according to expert analyses. Is age finally catching up with our golden man? We turn now to -"

With clarity dawning, J'onn flipped through the channels, to observe the scale of his errors in a variety of languages which he was now mysteriously able to understand. All were of the same vein. Apparently, as far as the natives were concerned, Zion (or perhaps Scion, as they seemed to refer to him) falling ill was an event of significance comparing to nuclear war, or an alien invasion.

There are too many pitfalls. I need someone to assist me.

Even as he had the thought, a plan materialized in his mind, seemingly out of nowhere.

Travel north, to the British Isles. Find Kevin Norton.

He could put a face to that name, and already saw a kind of outline of the meeting: a rainy day, a man, poorly dressed. Two others, whose details eluded him. His power told him they wouldn't make matters worse.

He took flight once again.