Chapter 15

London

The sound of an uncontrollable hacking cough filled the central chamber. Zod was bent over, a handkerchief to his mouth, his whole body convulsing with each new spasm. Anon, his faithful second stood, eyes turned discretely away, holding a grey duffle bag. No one else had dared step foot in the chamber, but they could all hear the sound reverberate through the hallways. As another violent round of coughing overtook him, Zod slumped to one knee, as each hack seemed to sap just a little more of his finite energy. Sweat poured down his ashen face mixing with his tears. Finally the coughs relented, Zod pulled himself wearily up into his chair, gasping for breath.

"Water," he managed to say and immediately Anon brought him a large glass. Zod managed to gulp some of it down, as he looked at his blood soaked handkerchief. Disgust filled his features as he tossed the water glass away.

"They grow worse every day, General," Anon said humbly, his head bowed.

"Yes, it seems the disease is bound and determined to claim me," Zod replied, slumping back in his chair. "What news do you bring me?"

"Three crystals, General, are fully charged."

Where a moment before a tired sick man sat, now the old Zod flashed to life. "Three?"

"Yes, General," Anon nodded.

"Have you brought them here as I instructed?"

"I have them here with me now," Anon said, gesturing to his duffle bag.

"Excellent, and the other two," Zod asked.

"I also brought them," Anon replied.

"Good, Anon, you have done well," Zod praised his second. "I want them safe from our young friend and any of the followers that might be a bit more inquisitive then they need be. I want the other two installed safely here in London where they can finish charging. The three you will take to the chamber. Is that understood?"

"Yes, it will be as you wish, General," Anon said, bowing again.

"Tell no one, Anon, we are too close for mistakes, now."

"You have my word."

The Watchtower

Zatanna had just finished her shift and was preparing to head back to Metropolis. As she said goodbye to Shayera and headed towards the transporters, her mind was preoccupied. Since talking to Bruce the day before she'd been mulling over what he'd said compared to Clark. In the moments they had said it to her, both views had made sense, but now looking back she wasn't sure which was the right one. She needed another perspective on it, but wasn't sure who to go to. As she stopped in the cafeteria for a coffee for the road, she happened to notice Diana sitting alone, looking out the window. Zatanna really didn't know Diana that well and to be honest, she was a little intimidating. Her newness to the world, though, might be just the different perspective she was looking for. Apprehensively, Zatanna made her way over to Diana's table.

"Um, excuse me, Diana?" she started. "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course," Diana said with a smile, gesturing for the younger woman to have a seat. Zee slipped into the seat across from her, nervously looking around and noticing they were practically the only one's there.

"What did you wish to talk about, Zatanna," Diana started, seeing the other woman's nervousness.

"Well, you probably heard by now about me falling apart on a mission," Zee said with a blush. "I went back, by the way. The thing is that I've been struggling to deal with it or understand how others do. I spoke to both Bruce and Clark. They both offered advice, but it's completely different. I find myself unsure which view is right. It seems their views boil down to hope versus anger as a reaction to some of the things we deal with."

"I can guess who's view is whose'," Diana said with a smile. "So how can I help you?"

"I wanted to know what you think?"

Diana seemed to consider this for a moment before answering. "Well, the easy answer would be to say hope, but I think what you're asking is more complicated than that."

"So which side do you come down on," Zatanna asked.

"I've wrestled with these thoughts myself. I would have to say I'm in the middle," Diana replied. "I can see the merit in both sides."

"That really doesn't help me much," Zee commented.

"No, I don't imagine it does," Diana admitted. "Since I left Themyscira, I've found myself struggling with the same questions I imagine you are now. I was raised a warrior, yet my purpose in the outside world is to show the way to have peace as we've achieved. The warrior in me understands anger. On the battlefield it is an ally, but must be controlled. The messenger of my people, the diplomat in me understands that hope is a powerful ally, as well. It's a constant struggle within me over which will win out."

"Yes, that's what I've been feeling," Zatanna agreed. "When I listen to Bruce, his argument makes sense, but then I listen to Clark and so does his."

"I don't know which is right, really," Diana said. "I think part of it is how much each view is tied into the person. Who they are and what they represent seems to shape their view of it. Anger makes sense for Bruce when you think of him. He had his parents brutally ripped away from him right before his eyes. In that moment, he lost everything and doesn't believe he can ever get it back. Who wouldn't be angry with that? On a basic level, I think we can all relate to it. Anger fuels his mission, yet I have to believe there is some hope inside of him as well."

"And Clark," Zatanna asked.

"In many ways he's the polar opposite," Diana started, "His birth parents sent him off from a dying world as their hope for the future. He lands in Kansas to a childless couple and fulfills their hope of having a child of their own. Hope seems to define his life. I wasn't here when Darkseid manipulated him, but I think that had a profound effect on Kal. He wasn't viewed the same way after that by most people. I think there's anger inside of him over it, but he knows he has to control it even more now."

"So you're saying that both paths have value?"

"Yes,' Diana nodded, 'I think you can see it in our teammates. Shayera, I believe, is closer to Batman, in that anger seems to drive her. Ollie, on the other hand, still believes, so he's closer to Superman. There's a saying that anger turned inward is depression, while anger turned sideways is humor. Doesn't that sound like Jonn and Wally to you? Jonn's had to watch his family, his whole race die, yet he survived. I think he struggles with it everyday. Wally lost his uncle and I think that fuels him. They both deal with it in different way, yet anger is at the core. Hope is what keeps them going, though. I know I'm not answering your question in a straight easy answer, but I don't think there is one. Each of us must find a balance between the two. I'm still struggling with it myself."

Zatanna nodded as she listened to Diana's words. It was obvious she'd given it quite a bit of thought, but hadn't found an answer either.

"Thank you, Diana, you've given me quite a bit to think about," Zatanna said with a smile. She stood, picking up her coffee and started for the door.

"Zatanna, I hope you find the answer you're looking for," Diana called out, "I think we all have to find our own path. I hope you find yours.

"Thank you, you too, Diana."

Daily Planet

Lois came out of her off full of excitement over the developing story. Things were starting to fall into place for her. As she happened to glance over at Clark's office, she stopped as she noticed a look of concern on his face. Slowly she changed directions and moved towards him.

"Hey, Smallville, everything all right," she asked.

"What? Oh, hi, Lois, um, yeah, I guess," he offered, but there wasn't much conviction behind it.

"No, no it's not, is it," Lois said in concern. She closed his office door and sat down. "Tell me, Clark, maybe I can help?"

"It's Ma," he softly said.

"Martha? What? What's the matter? Is she ill?" Lois immediately asked with concern. She knew Mrs. Kent well and had come to truly care for her. The thought that something might be wrong worried Lois.

"No, well, not like you're thinking," Clark shook his head. "I stopped by to see her last night and it was kind of a shock."

"What?"

"You know how you never really think of your parents age? They always seem old to you, but you don't really think about it. They're just this nebulous age, older, but not the way other people seem to be. When I saw Ma last night, it hit me that she's old. I know how that sounds, but I never saw her that way before. All the signs were there I just didn't see them."

"I know what you mean,' Lois said, a small smile coming to her lips. "I remember the first time I was away from home. My father always seemed like the biggest, toughest guy around, but when I next saw him it was as if he'd aged twenty years. I knew he hadn't but it was like I was seeing him with new eyes or something."

"Exactly," Clark nodded, "that was the feeling I had last night. She was always so vibrant and alive to me, yet as I watched her last night I could see how easily she got tired out. Her step was a little slower. She even got dizzy just sitting up. As horrible as this is to say, it hit me that she might not always be there. I know it probably sounds naïve, but it had just never occurred to me that she wouldn't be there. All last night I kept thinking about it and then today. I can't seem to shake the feeling."

"I think that's one of the bad parts of growing up, Clark," Lois seriously offered. "We all live out lives trying to make something off ourselves, yet there's always that security there. I think we know that no matter how bad things might go for us, how much of a disaster we make of our lives, there's always one place we can go to. When we lose our parents it suddenly hits us that we are truly on our own now. Maybe that's the final step in being an adult, I don't know."

"She's the only family I have, Lois," Clark said, the worry plain in his voice.

"I know, Clark and for what it's worth, I think your Mom is one of the really great people I've ever met."

"What will I do if I lose her, Lo," Clark asked.

"Don't think like that, Clark," Lois quickly replied, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. "No one knows the future and you'll only tear yourself up thinking like that. Martha's alive, right now, concentrate on that," Lois forcefully said, holding his gaze.

"I'll try, thanks,' Clark replied, managing a weak smile.

Bonneville Salt Flats

The stairway had been carved out of the salt and lead down, straight down. Nathan moved with the confidence of someone that had been here many times. In this most inhospitable of places, his excitement level grew. A robed figure held a torch aloft to light the way. How long this passage had been here it was impossible to tell. Human hands had carved it out of the different layers, first salt and then stone. In many ways it was a monumental achievement to the persistence of man, yet it remained a secret to only those chosen members. They reached the last step and the robed figure stopped, allowing Nathan passed. He stepped into a dimly lit sanctuary, his eyes instantly adjusting as he gazed around him. Twelve robed figures sat in a circle chanting, as the sound of drums rhythmically beat in the background. A grotesque statue sat in the middle of the chamber. It was the thing of nightmares, an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This was Cthulhu and the people in the circle were the secret priests of his cult. They had dedicated their lives to awakening him and bringing about the great transformation of this world. These are the true believers and Nathan is one of them. Donning his rope, he takes his place in the circle. A chant goes up in praise of the new world that will wipe away this one in a holocaust of fire and death. The drumbeats increase, as the power of this place seems to radiate through all thirteen. As the chant reaches it apex, the drums are like a heartbeat, throbbing through the entire structure. The symbolically everything falls into silence. Magic swirls around this place feeding and growing by the moment.

"Our plans proceed, but there is a complication," Nathan finally says.

"What is this complication," one of the other priests asks.

"Zod," Nathan replies, the malice plain in his voice. "He's not a true believer and seeks to use us for his own ends."

"We foresaw this," another priest answers, "it is of no consequence."

"Perhaps, but he taps into the elemental energy to power his alien crystals," Nathan continued. "He would use them to transform himself and the witch, le Fey."

"We have always known the General had his own plans, they will not interfere with our greater goal," another voice said.

"It delays us," Nathan said.

"That is what the General believes, but our preparations have continued."

"The dreamers," Nathan asked.

"We have quietly transported an army of them here, as you instructed. Beyond this door resides a dream tank larger than all the others. Thousands are in there, focusing on a single primal thought. The day rapidly approaches when the dreamers will awaken. When you give the signal they will spread out from this place bringing chaos and death with them. Cthulhu will be awakened and the transformation will begin."

"And what of Zod and the crystals?"

"You are the leader, we are only here to advice," a priest said.

"I always seek your counsel," Nathan replied.

"Kryptonians are susceptible to magic, perhaps their technology is as well," another priest offered. A smile spread across Nathan's face as the idea formed in his mind.

"You are always wise," he said with satisfaction.

Arkham Asylum

Hugo Strange had been a model prisoner in the last few weeks. The guards had noticed and were relieved at one less threat to them. To reward him for his improved behavior, they rewarded him with one hour of recreation. It was late at night, when most of the other inmates were asleep, when they would cautiously bring Hugo down to the gymnasium. In single light shown down on a basketball hoop, while the rest of the gymnasium remained in darkness. Hugo was handed a ball and locked inside for one hour. The guards shook their head and chuckled as Hugo clumsily shot baskets. They had gotten used to him talking to himself and thankfully, the doors of the gymnasium were thick enough that they didn't have to listen to his insane ramblings. The Riddler had been returned tonight so their minds were occupied with that new threat. Hugo was practicing his lay ups, with little success. After a few tries, one hit the side of the rim and bounced away into the shadows. He was just about to go after it, when the ball came slowly rolling back to him. A shudder of fear when through him as he realized he wasn't alone.

"Please, no, I answered all your questions," he whimpered, afraid the angel in the golden mask had come back for him.

"What questions, Hugo," the voice from the darkness came. Hugo slumped down to the floor, trembling.

"You said I was saved because I answered what you wanted."

"You are saved, Hugo, I just came to hear what you told her," Batman said, stepping forward so only his silhouette could be seen.

"Batman!" Hugo gasped, shocked by this. "I thought you were…"

"You thought I was who, Hugo?"

"Her! The angel. The angel of death that's been haunting me," Hugo nervously said.

"She's gone now, Hugo, she won't be coming back. If you want her to stay gone, you need to tell me what you told her," Batman whispered, just loud enough for Hugo to hear.

"The Necronomicon, she wanted to know how to raise the Old Ones," Hugo admitted.

"The Old One? Explain."

"The Old Ones are from a time before man. They are frightful Gods that ruled this world until they were banished for using Black Magic. They slumber, waiting for their time to return. They have many devoted followers that seek to release them for this dreamlike state, so they may once again rule this world and others," Hugo rapidly explained. "It's called the great transformation by the Cthulhu Cultists, but it's actually the destroying of this world to make room for the new. They see this world as a corruption of the true world and wish to bring about its extinction."

"How? How would they do this," Batman asked, his concern growing.

"I don't know for sure, but the Angel asked many questions about the collective unconscious. I believe that is the key."

"In what way?"

"Archetypes. She-She asked a lot about Jung and his theories of shared consciousness and archetypes. He theorized that all humans, the world over, had at their core a shared set of basic concepts, such as science, religion, and morality. In other words it's a reservoir of the experiences of our species. If a group could tap into those archetypes and use them to create a shared dream state, they in theory could connect with Cthulhu. If they did that, they could possibly wake him from his slumber and bring about their end of the world scenario."

"And this is what Morgaine, I mean the Angel that appeared to you wanted to know," Batman asked.

"Yes, I couldn't resist her or she would punish me," Hugo admitted, nearly breaking down at the memory.

"You've been very helpful, Hugo, very helpful. You have nothing to fear tonight, return to your basketball. You did well," Batman whispered and then disappeared back into the shadows. Hugo knelt there, shivering in fear, but as the moments passed and nothing happened, he began to breath again. Getting to his feet, he took one more look into the darkness and then turned and started shooting baskets again.

Metropolis

It was late and Clark was just relaxing after a long day. After work at the Planet, he'd helped Jonn with a relief effort in Thailand. A small border town had been decimated and for what looked like no reason. Jonn believed it was connected to the attack in Africa and a series of other unusual events, but hadn't been able to figure out the connection. It was grim business, sifting through the wreckage, helping to bury the dead and try and help the injured. The brutality of it weighted on Clark, but he did his best to ease the suffering. On his way back to his apartment, he'd secretly checked on Ma, knowing if she knew she would be angry. He hadn't been able to shake his concern for her. He'd finally arrived back here a short time ago. He changed into an old pair of jeans and a flannel shirt before dropping down in front of the TV to relax before going to bed. The sound of a light knock on his door roused him from his couch and he went over and opened it. Standing there was Zatanna, holding a pizza box.

"I heard this was the best pizza in town, but they don't usually deliver," she said with a smile.

"This must be my lucky night, two of my favorite things without leaving the house," Clark teased, leaning in to kiss her.

"Umm, chances are good it will be a lucky night for you," she teased back, returning his kiss with equal passion.

"Come on in, I missed you."

Zatanna came in and sat down on the couch as Clark went into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of Pinot Noir and two glasses.

"I little something to go with the pizza," he said, sitting down next to her and pouring the wine.

"That's delicious," she said, tasting her glass. "That's something I've been wondering about. Alcohol doesn't effect you, right?"

"No, not really."

"So why do you drink it," she asked.

"Well, I don't drink a lot of it, but I like wine because I can taste every little flavor and nuance in it. I find I like the taste of it."

"So this is one of your favorites?"

"Yes, but why don't we talk about what you've been up to," he suggested. "I haven't seen you in days it seems like. How was tonight's show, by the way?"

"Good, although, I nearly dropped the cake during the closing trick. I sometimes wonder why women wear these damn high heels."

"Because they make their legs look great, although, you don't need them," Clark offered with a smile.

"Thank you," she smiled in return.

"So tell me what's been going on with you? You seem to be feeling better than the last time I saw you."

"I am, I guess," she admitted, and the proceeded to tell him of everything that had happened since. Clark listened with interest as she told him about returning to Africa, her talks with Bruce and Diana. They managed to eat most of the pizza by the time she finished relating it all.

"Sounds like you've had a few eventful days, Zee. I'm glad to hear you went back, I know that was important to you."

"It was,' she admitted, "I'm still not sure about it all, though. Part of me understands what Bruce and Diana were saying, but another part is drawn towards what your view."

"I can understand that," Clark admitted. "Bruce makes a valid point about anger as a driving force behind many of the things we do."

"And Diana?"

"She continues to surprise me with her understanding," he smiled. "I guess that's her being gifted by Athena in action."

"So you agree with her?"

"No, not entirely," Clark said, shaking his head. "Anger might be something that Bruce and the others can use, but I think there's a danger in that. Anger and fear are too closely related in my mind. They tend to feed off each other. Anger alone leads to vengeance and really offers nothing else. If you let anger guide you, I think eventually it will destroy you. Bruce has been dealing with that delicate balance for a long time, but I still worry about him. If you have no hope, you're lost. There has to be something more than just anger or in the end we no better than the people we fight."

"I guess," Zee admitted, considering his words.

"That's just how I see it, anyway," Clark smiled, "I do agree with Diana that each of us has to find that balance for ourselves."

"I guess I'm still working on that," she confessed.

"We all are," Clark said gently, learning over to kiss her. Zatanna responded immediately, desire flaring to life within her.

"I think I should warn you, Clark, Bruce seems bound and determined to act like by father. He's very curious about the new guy I'm dating," she teased.

"So should I be prepared to have a talk with him sometime soon?"

"Yes, he'll want to know your intentions," she continued as she kissed him.

"He might not like some of them, Zee," Clark playfully replied.

"That's okay, as long as I do," she teased.

"Oh, I think you might," he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe.

"Oh, you are definitely getting lucky tonight, Clark Kent," she seductively replied, as a thrill went through her body.