CLI
Darkseid vs. The Justice League
Part Eight: Tarry No More…
For centuries, he had been known only as the Phantom Stranger.
A guiding spirit of last resort, a flickering candle of humanity in the blackest shadows, unyielding in his pursuit of lost souls, even if he had to stride the distant shores of Hell to save them. His far-flung path was one of constant pursuit – following in the mad steps of the damned, a hand to pull them back from the edge of the Abyss, or only to have them slip from his grasp into the Inferno below.
He could count the number of souls he had lost on one hand, yet the number he had saved were legion. Many had been saved during their final moments, their final deliverance had always been bittersweet for the Stranger… as he was never allowed to take that last step towards the light… close enough to brush the glow of salvation with his extended, white-gloved fingertips, but forever denied entry through those Sacred Gates…
Truly, he should have died so long ago…
But his work was never done.
In the darkness of the bedroom of Bruce Wayne, he sighed…
Longinus knew well enough of the pain, of the physical agony that the man on the bed was suffering. The Phantom Stranger was not a God, just a man cursed to live until the end of his world - and he had known pain. Bruce Wayne had slipped back into unconsciousness shortly after hearing of the sad tale of Longinus – and yet he knew Raven would soon call upon this fallen hero once more. He knew which six Gods she would name and also the only way that she would ever be able to free them…
Bruce Wayne – unbound by the weave of Destiny's course amongst the stars.
Who could free the six Gods of Maltus from their cruel fate.
But Destiny had not spared him from Darkseid's damned machines.
Had Bruce chosen to become the Wizard Adam's Champion, these grave injuries he had suffered would have been moot. He could have brushed off such grief as nothing more than a scratch as Earth's mightiest mortal. But he had made Fate choose another… another whom he loved more than life itself. And the Phantom Stranger could only pray that the choice Bruce Wayne had made would not cost the entire Universe its one chance at salvation from the stone-fisted oppression of Darkseid.
Before him, the familiar dark smoke snaked and coiled amidst the large bedroom chamber - the Mistress of the Estate suddenly reappeared. Longinus knew why Raven had returned… He watched her face turn to sadness as she beheld her fallen lover. Even with a shared destiny, the Phantom Stranger knew that Raven had not truly comprehended the extent of Bruce's trauma… that only a powerful will had kept him coherent and brave as she departed. While unconscious, he could not hide the pain from her.
A tear fell from her eye as she addressed Longinus in the dark night of Gotham.
"…We are lost."
"Have you not chosen the Gods of Maltus, Raven Wayne?"
"I have… But I can not be their Champion while they themselves are slaves… Tell me how, Longinus? How could I have wronged him this way?... If only he…"
"You have not wronged him, child… Your choice was just, but it comes with a cost. Be brave, Champion of Humanity… And allow me to pay that cost. Allow me to act in his stead, young Raven Wayne. I will push the stars themselves apart to make Fate recognize you as its greatest Champion. Only allow me to carry Bruce Wayne's love and burden this one time…"
"Longinus… Your aspirations are noble, but can you alter the hard course of destiny as Bruce could?"
"Once… I did. You were born to end my life, Raven Wayne, but I stand here now because this man saved me… Now allow me to save him. I will do what must be done. I will do it because it is right and because it is just."
"You may be our last hope, Stranger."
"No, Raven Wayne… You who are our last hope. I am simply a means to that end."
Raising her arms and cloak, the dark smoke that surrounded the Phantom Stranger brought them into a strange existence of darkness and emotion. These were the nether realms that the Stranger had travelled often… yet how strange it was to now have a companion here. These were the realms that Raven travelled as well.
Coursing across a dark Universe, they reappeared on green-tinged Maltus beneath its emerald dome - while six crucified Gods loomed like giants upon crosses before them. The two mortals silently stared at the momentous task that now affronted them. The Gods they had come to free were over two hundred feet tall.
Each emerald Needle of Fate that pierced the hands and feet of these Gods were the size of telephone poles.
Neither had any idea of how to remove these massive pins.
They only knew that they must.
As they stood in silence, a shimmering light appeared before them… a translucent image in the soft shape of a woman. As beautiful as the shape was, she seemed foreign to Raven… and yet somehow familiar. Raven Wayne knew that she had never met this essence before, but she could sense the powerful aura of magic that surrounded her, and an aura of familiarity and… love?
"You are the step-sister of my daughter. The prophesized daughter of Trigon. Finally you have returned - and I welcome you, Raven."
This was the spirit of Suli! Long flowing hair with long, sad eyes. Raven could feel the latent power that this Goddess had held… truly, Suli belonged among these Goddesses of Magic as an equal. This had been the true Goddess of Magic among the New Gods.
"Suli, mother-goddess of Zareah and Abraxas. Please… Can you tell us how to free your daughters?!"
"You must first free your father, child."
"My father?... Trigon?... He is still here?"
"Step forward, dear child… And gaze into that dark chasm before you. You shall find your father, another victim of cruel Maltus."
With the Phantom Stranger by her side, Raven slowly walked forward, constantly gazing into the deep crack in the earth that had not been there before, each new step revealing more if its dark depths. She first saw the long white hair… hanging against his sunken chest. It was true… The mighty Trigon had been reduced to nothing more than tragedy. Pinned against the wall of the canyon by an emerald Needle of Fate, and cloaked in the shadows of the pit. He was helpless.
She almost felt sorry for him.
"You must take what is yours, child. Claim your inheritance. To do so, you must first free him."
"Suli… I'm not sure that's wise. My father is blinded by revenge, it is all that he knows. He will not help us... he can not. Freeing him would only mean strife... and perhaps our lives."
"His own end soon approaches… I have crafted it in the stars. You will have what is rightfully yours, Raven… The bright Destiny I have made for you. You shall live."
The Phantom Stranger stepped forward, questioning the spirit of Suli.
"It was you… You were the one who changed the Revelation, weren't you? Yours was the mysterious hand who changed my own Fate… So that I now aid the one who should have destroyed me."
"Nothing is destroyed Stranger… only delayed. The events of Destiny have not been destroyed, but their order is realigned. All things you say will come to pass, but perhaps not as foretold."
"So be it... Then to free the Gods of Maltus, Trigon must first be freed? Is this what has been decreed?"
"Yes."
"Then our path has become clear, Raven… I shall delay no longer."
Raven watched in horror as the blue-suited Phantom Stranger sprinted eight quick steps to the edge of chasm and jumped! Rushing forward herself, she watched him falling through the air – his long cape billowing in the mad rush of air - towards Trigon's massive chest... until he fell onto his desired target, clutching and latching onto the Needle that impaled her father to the wall of the cavern.
Somehow… the Phantom Stranger managed to maintain his hold on the foot-wide shaft of the Needle and cling to its smooth edges without falling to his death. Raven gasped as his signature fedora suddenly was knocked from his head, tumbling far into the unknown darkness of the deep crevice below. If Longinus were to lose his grip, a fall from that height would surely mean his demise…
Using his arms and legs, the Stranger slowly inched his way along the Needle's length - towards the body of the crimson God as Raven could only watch in quiet anxiety. She watched as this small figure of a man found his way to the chest of the red giant, never letting go of the Needle that held him. Just what was he trying to do?!
Wrapping his right arm around the circumference of the Needle, Raven watched as the Stranger planted his well-worn shoes squarely into Trigon's chest. It was as though he were attempting to pull a telephone pole from the ground simply by placing it in a headlock with his feet planted firmly on the ground and pulling.
Except that the ground was Trigon's chest and the telephone pole was a Needle of Fate embedded by Darkseid himself. It was madness.
"Suli… he can't. It's too much…"
"Can't he?"
Raven could almost feel the Stranger's steely fingers dig into the giant Needle as his leg muscles exploded in agony. His legs pushed against Trigon with the strength of ten men while his arms held onto the Needle with the strength of twenty. In his profound labour, beads of sweat began to dampen the grey hair of the man who had defiled Christ two thousand years before. A man who had paid dearly for his sin. She heard his screams of terrible exertion as her heart leapt to her throat, watching his grip slide along the smooth Needle…
No.
His grip had not slid… the Needle had moved!
This solitary man had moved the needle!
The Phantom Stranger shifted his grip forward once more, sucking in air like a drowning man and methodically dug his fingers into the thing that had been rammed through Trigon's chest… and then pulled again.
No man should have been able to pull like that… and yet he did. Again… and again he pulled. With an explosion of exertion that would have crippled lesser men, the Phantom Stranger pulled, his breathing raging like a ragged man fighting for his life. Because he was fighting for all their lives. A hero for a champion...
One hundred times he pulled, shifting the impaling Needle forward foot-by-torturous-foot… until the end of it almost touched the opposite wall of the canyon… and finally it was free from Trigon. It was free!…
...And they were falling.
The exhausted Phantom Stranger and the Needle of Fate slid from Trigon and tumbled downwards into the darkness below.
Regaining her lost senses, Raven teleported herself to the bottom of the chasm, hoping against hope that she would be able to save him… somehow. She had been lost in the miracle of his feat, that a man could have done such a thing, that she had forgotten what would happen when he succeeded. His last pull had dislodged the Needle, the only thing that had kept him aloft. It was at least one hundred and fifty feet to the bottom…
Below, Raven reappeared to a strange sight… illuminated by the faint, green glow of the dome far above in the Maltus sky. Before her, on a stone ledge lay the battered Phantom Stranger, blood trickling from his mouth and nose, while his head tenderly lay upon the black, leather pants of a girl…
... a girl close to Raven's own age, who cradled the Stranger's wounded head in her lap. Her matching black halter-top revealed incredibly pale skin and a slender physique. Black-painted fingernails brushed through the Stranger's cropped hair as the solemn, grey-eyed girl glanced up and smiled at Raven Wayne, speaking with an ethereal voice…
"He's earned his rest… Don't you think?"
Who was she?!
"He… Is he?..."
Raven desperately reached out with her empathy for a sign… any sign that the Stranger was still alive. She sensed no emotion from either of them… Had she arrived too late? Had Longinus perished from his fall? Was this girl some manifestation of the magic that coursed through Maltus… a spirit made real? Raven's eye were now drawn to the large, silver ankh necklace she wore around her neck…
Gods, she seemed real. But what was this young human Goth-girl doing on Maltus?!
"The same thing I do everywhere, Raven… I'm Death."
Raven attempted to process this...
"… You're the Angel of Death?"
"Angel, spirit, avatar, personification, whatever. I'm Death."
"Then Longinus is…" She felt the tears begin to form in her eyes. The Phantom Stranger was dead.
"He is… But don't be sad, Raven… He's had to wait for me a long time. Few spirits weep with joy when I finally come for them. It's really nice actually…"
The man who had paid a terrible price for his sins had been finally allowed to die. Of course he had wept tears of joy. But he had died for her sake… How could she ever repay his bravery?
The deep voice that spoke from behind Raven was a forgotten nightmare, the smug voice she had prayed to never hear again… the voice of her father. Longinus had sacrificed himself in vain, only to free the Scourge of the Universe. Why?!
"A friend of yours, daughter?"
She hated that damned voice.
Without turning to face him, Raven watched carefully as Death gently placed the head of the Phantom Stranger to her side, laying it reverently upon the stone landing before standing. How strange to see that one of the greatest powers in the Universe was a young woman no larger than herself.
Her own father Trigon had addressed her as a friend of Raven - but he could not be more mistaken. Raven knew little of Death. With her father now back to normal size, she watched as Death strode towards the crimson God and spoke.
"Should I be offended, Trigon? For a thousand years, I've walked behind you as your only companion. And you've kept me very busy that whole time explaining to a trillion souls why it had to end that way... And even now, you still don't recognize me."
"I have no companions, girl. I am Revenge!"
"You were Revenge. Not any more."
"You dare?!" Trigon's roar almost deafened Raven… but it did not faze Death whatsoever.
"Geez, you're not taking this well at all… Look Trigon, let me spell it out for you... You just died... I'm Death... I'm here to collect you... If it would make you feel more comfortable, I can take on the form of the Black Racer. Would that make you feel better?"
"I am of the Omega Effect… and I am a God! I am beyond the mere concept of death. Take whatever form you wish girl, I do not fear you!"
Trigon stood defiantly, glaring at the pale girl who seemed fascinated by the hole that ran straight through the God's crimson chest. Raven almost expected Death to poke her finger into the wound by the way she was staring at it.
"You were of the Omega Effect, Trigon… There's nothing left in there. You're a mess. Energy doesn't last forever, you know. You spent whatever energy you ever had preventing that stupid brother of yours from draining the Source while you were pinned to that wall… So you're not beyond the mere concept of death. But you're right, you don't have to fear me. We had some good times, though… Remember how I hovered above you all those years in space, always trying to close your eyes? That was fun! But in the end all good - and bad - things must finish and it's time to go."
"No!... Darkseid must pay! He must die!"
"Of course he must…" Death ignored Trigon's rage as she examined her polished fingernails in the distant green light of Maltus. "But you won't be around to see it."
Raven watched wide-eyed as the muscular body of Trigon suddenly collapsed face-first onto the stone canyon, as Death gracefully sidestepped his falling form, to avoid being crushed by the corpse of the former God of Revenge. As Trigon lay face-first on the stony floor, Death turned to Trigon's daughter and smiled at her once again. Her work here was now done.
"Oh… And congratulations on becoming Champion, Raven. It's really cool that a woman gets the nod this time around. Don't worry, you'll do great… See ya soon!"
Death gave her a cute little wave - and because Raven had absolutely no idea what else she should do - she simply smiled like an idiot and waved back at the pale sister of Sleep. Death was nothing like what she had imagined!
And now both Trigon and the Phantom Stranger were dead and she was alone.
Raven recalled one of the ancient texts of Azarath that had spoken of the Endless, the seven aspects of existence within their Universe… Death, Dream, Desire, Destiny, Delirium, Destruction and Despair. These were not Gods, but rather the very fabric of consciousness itself. They were more like the Gods of the Gods, created the moment the Universe was born. To believe that she had actually met one of them was… incredibly humbling… and not at all what she had expected.
Had Death simply taken on that human-girl form for Raven's benefit? To Trigon, Death had appeared as the Black Racer long before. All cultures had notions of what Death should appear as, but Raven had never thought of her as a young lady with a penchant for black. And what had she meant by 'See ya soon'?!... Who else was going to die?! Hadn't they lost enough friends? Or perhaps 'soon' could mean a hundred years to someone who had existed since the dawn of time... Of course Raven would meet her again at the time of her own death (she was certain) but hopefully that was not 'soon'. She peered down at the body of Longinus at her feet.
She had known the Stranger for only a short time, but he had been one of their greatest friends and allies. For all his air of mystery, she had never doubted him or his intent. He had always aided them as best that he could. But just what had he died for?! He had removed the impaling Needle, the only thing that had been keeping her father alive, and now they were both dead…
As though in response to her thoughts, the perfect hole that had run through her father's chest suddenly bathed in brilliant light… as though a sun of pure white light had been created within her father's corpse. The canyon itself now became white, all darkness was expelled as Raven was basked in its warm glow of creation. She had felt this light before…
The Source.
Her father had stolen the power of the Source from a trillion souls. He had used its light to balance the darkness of his own blackened heart, an ebb and flow of evil and captured creation. She watched the light of the Source form a blinding orb over dead Trigon, a miniature sun of pure power now freed from the God's body.
Without even realizing it, Raven had transformed into her God-form, if only to withstand the awesome might of the power that was continually intensifying before her. Being a crimson Goddess made standing this close to such energy bearable. This was her father's true power, an ability to harness and store the Source… to become a living battery of creation or destruction. That power had made him more than a God.
And like her father, Raven could harness it as well.
She felt herself absorbing this newly formed Source into her soul.
Its fire began to burn within her as the Universe exploded with a supernova of far-reaching possibility. In all her life, she had never felt like a God… until now. Now… She was Hope. She was the Champion of Magic. And with the love of her husband, she could become the Hand of Fate. She was the master of her own destiny.
Suli had told her of an inheritance.
Which meant that the Goddess had known… Suli had known that Raven possessed the same power as both Yuga Khan and Trigon. The ability to absorb the energy of the Source! That she must claim what was hers from Trigon…
But was it hers?
Did she have that right to claim the spoils of genocide? A trillion souls from across the Universe had perished before her father's mad ambition… just to obtain this power she now claimed. The Source was the light that drew Fate through the branches of Yggdrasil – not through Raven Wayne. This light had been tainted with an ocean of tears from a thousand fallen worlds… she could feel the immense grief of a trillion lives within her.
But she needed to bear it for a short time longer…
Alfred Pennyworth awoke to a perfectly white bedroom, as though the rays of a white star had shone through all the walls of the Manor and burned away colour from the mansion in a glow of purest glory…. A light unstoppable that blinded him - and then mercifully faded.
After his eyes had recovered from the retina burn, Alfred got out of bed and retrieved his robe from the hook on the wall, donning his familiar slippers as he rubbed his eyes. He had a hunch that the answer to this mysterious outburst of light could be found in Master Bruce's bedroom. When he first awoke, he had feared that a nuclear bomb had detonated on the grounds, so bright was that light, but it had been something different… thankfully.
On his way to the master bedchamber, Alfred remembered his early life in the theatre, the joy of performing before an audience. Strange… he hadn't thought about his thespian career for quite some time, but now he remembered every moment of it with crystal clarity – as though the last performance had only been hours prior.
He prayed it wasn't Alzheimer's…
After receiving no reply from rapping upon the door of the master bedroom, he then tried calling out for both Bruce and Raven - before he discretely opened the door. The awful sight that awaited him on the other side almost stopped his chilled heart…
Master Bruce lay upon the bed… terribly injured. Even in the pale moonlight of the near dawn, Alfred didn't like the white colour of Bruce's complexion - or the purplish discolouration around his chest. It was as though the young man had been beaten by a gang of thugs and left for dead! The old gentleman rushed over to the side of the bed to check for vitals… yes, Bruce still had a pulse… but it was weak. And his breathing was shallow and laboured.
Worse, he was completely unresponsive…
He needed an ambulance right away!
Alfred scurried out of the bedroom to immediately find a phone and call for help. The old man prayed that in this state of national emergency that the Gotham ambulances were still as fast as he remembered…
Because his ward wouldn't last the night otherwise.
Author's Notes:
For those unfamiliar with Neil Gaiman's wonderful "Sandman" series, it may seem strange that the figure of Death in the DC Universe is portrayed as an attractive, young lady clothed in black… but this is indeed the older sister of the Sandman. She is selfless and is usually quite upbeat, performing her role as just an inevitable and final part of life.
R.I.P Phantom Stranger... You have earned your rest and given young Raven the key to her new destiny.