Well, Trinity Salvation has just crossed the 200k word mark. It was rather sneaky about it, I must admit. There's plenty more story left, so perhaps we'll hit 300k.
It wasn't often Batman found himself being led around, but that was the situation he found himself in as he followed behind Dr. Fate in his tower. J'onn was keeping up with him, the three navigating through the Tower of Fate's convoluted corridors.
"What I am about to tell you is of great importance," the sorcerer spoke up, perhaps the first words he had spoken since bringing them all here. Time worked differently here, so there was no telling if it had been seconds or hours since they had arrived.
Abruptly, Dr. Fate stopped and turned to face the two men, who came to a stop as well. "I have felt a shift in the very fabric of reality, one unlike anything I have ever felt before."
"You're going to have to explain that," Batman responded. He didn't understand magic as well as he wished he did, so just about anything Fate said could be misunderstood. He was not one to let misunderstandings begin on the onset.
"Imagine time and space, reality itself as a river, forever flowing," Fate began to explain. "It can only go in one direction, all flowing until the end of time itself. Throughout this river are obstacles that can change the course of the river itself. Some are momentary ripples, ones that are felt, but eventually are swept away in its current."
"Such as a rock being thrown into the water," J'onn suggested.
"For this metaphor, yes." Fate looked directly into J'onn's eyes. "The destruction of Mars has created a shift so profound, it is one that I have never felt before. In fact, I am certain it was not an event that should have taken place."
That was startling, but Batman failed to see how it was something that should not have happened. It had happened with surgical precision to cause as much damage to J'onn as it could. It was clear that Despero had an axe to grind with J'onn and he would do everything he could to hurt the Martian. Wiping out his ancestral home was one such thing.
"And it is because of this that we must take action and fix what has happened."
Batman found himself glancing towards J'onn, who stared transfixed at the sorcerer. "Are…are you saying that we can change what has happened?" the Martian questioned, a hint of hope within his tone. "We can undo what has happened to Mars?"
Batman switched his attention back to Fate, who shook his head in response. "That is not what I mean; I apologize for any confusion my words may have caused. Though Mars should not have been destroyed, it has happened regardless. It was a price that was to be paid."
J'onn's shoulders dropped and Batman could already feel the Martian sinking back into his depression once more. Fate seriously needed to think his words through before speaking them. It was one thing to be cryptic, but all his cryptizism was doing was confusing and hurting his friend. "What are you talking about, a price? What price?"
"I believe that for my intervention with the World Engine, a price was taken by the Lords of Order," Fate explained. "The wearer of the Helm is not meant to intervene in the world of mortals and should such an occurrence happen, a price is taken. In this case, this shift, the destruction of an entire planet."
That was bullshit. The Dark Knight was seriously beginning to consider telling Zatanna to keep her distance from this guy. Though powerful, he was clearly absorbed into his own mysticism that he could drag anyone with a gullible enough mind with him. He saw enough of that with soothsayers and palm readers to know that was quite a few people.
No matter how Fate saw the world through the actions of deities, Mars' destruction was caused by mortal hands for the express purpose of hurting one man. It had succeeded. There was nothing more to read into it.
"You mentioned fixing this…shift. How are we supposed to do that?" he asked instead. There was no need to debate this man on the merits of his words.
"A time and place will reveal itself," Fate intoned as he turned around and began walking once more, leaving the dark-clad man and Martian behind. "We must be ready for it."
Batman clinched his hands into fists, the leather squeaking from the strain. Promptly, he stormed after the sorcerer until he was able to grab him by his shoulder. "I'm going to need something more concrete than 'be ready'," he growled. "What is it exactly that we have to do?"
Fate actually stopped in response. "I have been consulting the future—or rather the multitude of futures available to us. There are many that do not end in our favor."
Alright, he could at least understand that much. By then, J'onn had caught up with them, though he kept a short distance away. "I'm guessing there are a number of ways it can go badly," Batman said. "So what ways are there that give us our best shot at avoiding those bad endings?"
Fate turned his head to look over his shoulder at the Dark Knight. "Of all the possibilities, the ones that give us our greatest chance at success involve the four of us."
Four. "I count three," Batman grunted. "You, me, and J'onn."
"The fourth is with us even now. I believe you refer to them as your ace up your sleeve."
Should it have been so surprising that Fate would know about that? In retrospect, no, but it was still enough to make him blink owlishly for a moment before he dropped his hand from Fate's shoulder. "So we need a sorcerer and two telepaths for this. What exactly are we going to do?"
"What should come naturally to you. We find and engage in mortal combat with the perpetrator of this shift." By now, Fate had turned to fully face the two men. "The man called Despero."
Now that was something he had no trouble understanding.
Luthor felt that he was as hard as granite. Word had come back to him that the Metal Men had returned. Part of that word had mentioned that they numbered five instead of six. Something had gone wrong.
He didn't announce his arrival at Magnus' lab. His code was inputted into the lock, the door slid open with barely a noise, and he strolled in. There was no need to march or stomp. Such actions were beneath him.
Inwardly, he appreciated how his shadow fell over the miserable lot, and how the project's lead researcher slowly looked to him. So much uncertainty on that young face, but fear was absent and that just stirred the burning coals within.
"Status," the business mogul ordered. Mercy stood where she always did; behind and to his right. Oh, she was no match for these robotic creations, but that didn't mean she was useless. If Magnus continued to be obstinate, then she would show what she was capable of.
Regardless, the part of him that understood and appreciated the field of robotics was fascinated by the almost human-like expressions the Metal Men traded to one another. One of the big ones, Iron he recalled, gave a little grunt, then pushed Gold out front and center. "You call yourself the leader, so act like it."
You could almost call it a glare, the look Gold shot at the larger android. Then like many a peon, that glare was wiped away into an apologetic expression that was now targeting Luthor. "Well, we found him, the alien, and everything was going well, but then suddenly he was on fire and nothing was working. Then Mercury—"
"Enough," Luthor interrupted sharply, glaring into sheepish gold eyes. "You failed. You had only one mission. One job. You, who can take on the might of the Justice League but are unable to handle one alien…"
Abruptly he trailed off, his most recent words echoing in his head. One alien…how many times had he said that phrase, or thought it? How many times? How many projects? How many weapons and each and every time they met the proverbial wall against one alien.
The Boy Scout, now the Martian, and most recently the leader of the Kalanorians. Every time, one alien undoes the fruits of his latest venture, each one more potent and deadly than the last, and each one another failure. How far was he into this sunk cost?
How much more of his money and resources was he going to pour into failed endeavors?
Aloud, "It seems the Metal Men Project has reached its limit. Since I can't see anyway forward, I'm pulling the plug."
"You're what?!" the gold android exclaimed.
"You can't do that!" the iron android bellowed.
The pathetic tin one whimpered, and further irritated Luthor even more.
"Please, it's too soon," the platinum android pleaded, approaching him in a manner so many other former employees had.
Standing up and pushing his way in front of the disgraced robots, Magnus argued, "The intent of the Metal Men was for rescue operations! To go where no human can!"
"And isn't saving humanity from a galactic tyrant not a rescue mission?" Luthor cut in like a hot knife through butter. "Defeating Despero would have saved humanity, would it have not? Killing him was a rescue mission, plain and simple. To be anywhere near him is an environment that no human dare tread. The parameters of their mission fit with the purpose of your project, Magnus, and they have failed to deliver. I am tired of wasting time and resources.
"As of now, Project Metal Men is canned. I want these walking, talking piles of molten scrapheaps to be melted down, those Responsometers retrieved and packed up along with the rest of this lab's equipment, and if you're lucky," Luthor took a step closer to the so-called prodigy, looming over him, "I'll find some place to stick you so that you can be of some worth and justify your paycheck. No arguments, or you will be effectively fired. Now get to work, Magnus, before I have to bring somewhere else to do it for you."
To his credit, Magnus kept that defiant gleam in his eye, but Luthor was not in the mood to indulge it. Another step was all it took for the mogul to put his face mere inches away from the little brat. In a tone of voice that held absolutely no friendliness to it, he said, "Are we going to have a problem?"
His eyes bored into Magnus'. Magnus did not give in. Now this was getting old, and as he pulled away, Luthor gestured with a hand.
Mercy was on Magnus without hesitations, and the failed robots gasped and yelled as his right hand manhandled the punk to his knees, an arm pulled behind his back brutally, almost to the point of dislocation. A cry of pain escaped the prodigy's mouth, and that seemed all that was needed to provoke the robots.
"Oh like hell you—" the iron one began, but then Mercy slipped out a pistol and jammed its barrel into the back of Magnus' head.
"Try me," she barked, a demand, a display to the robotics expert that this wasn't just a show of confidence, but of control. She had Magnus right where she wanted him, and he was not going to be getting out of her hold any time soon. He was powerless under her strength and she wanted to demonstrate it; help was nowhere near close even if it was mere feet away.
These robots had the powers of the Justice League programmed into them thanks to Ivo's work on Amazo. One could use the constructs of the Green Lanterns. One held mastery of electricity. One was imbued with the power of nuclear energy. The pathetic one held superspeed. Oh, and let's not forget the lead one that was practically invincible with the ability to control the very earth itself.
But they were programmed for rescue missions, to save lives, but were they capable of taking one? A human life, not an alien one. So much power…and also so much hesitation much to Luthor's disgust.
The gold one, always claiming it was the leader was frozen in place by indecision. The iron one looked ready to lead a charge, but did nothing. The lead one stood there, dull and dumb as its appearance. The tin one, the pathetic tin one, trembling in place instead of using its speed to easily disarm the situation. The platinum one with all its power, but too cautious to really use it.
Another. Failure.
"So what will it be?" Luthor broke the silent stalemate with the most pleasant tone of voice he had used so far.
Magnus bowed his head, teeth clenched tightly. A slight tug from Mercy had him cry out, "Alright! Alright, I'll do it! Just…just let me go!"
"Good answer," the business mogul stated, nodding to Mercy to release him.
Down onto the floor, clutching at his arm in a near fetal position, Magnus panted loudly. Just another pathetic sight, and it made Luthor want to reconsider keeping this boy in his employ. Turning his back on the latest failure in a long line of them, he stalked away with Mercy following in tow.
"I expect you to have finished terminating this project within the hour. I'll be sending others to check on your progress in the meantime. Don't think about crossing me." There, his last warning to Magnus.
The last one that child would ever hear from him.
The problem with sitting in a prison cell was that you lost all sense of time. Shayera sat on the poor excuse of a bed, her elbows on her thighs as she propped her head up with her hands. She had done all the stretching and exercises she could think of doing already. Boredom had long since set in.
The worst part was that she knew what her kinsmen were up to and there wasn't a damn thing she could do, not in this cell. She had already checked it for any weak points and hadn't found any obvious ones. Stuck with the knowledge that Earth was in its final days, if not hours, was terrible.
She heard it first. A door opened, which wasn't unusual in and of itself. What got her attention was the large number of footsteps she was hearing. Perking up, she stared at her cell door, waiting to see who would pass by.
It wasn't too surprising to see a couple guards leading the way; that was standard protocol. However, the moment she saw Vixen, Shayera shot up onto her feet. She rushed to the uneven bars, hands slapping down on them as Firestorm passed right by.
Her arrival caught the flame-headed man off-guard as he turned his head and saw her. "Hawkgirl?" he exclaimed, right before he was shoved forward and out of sight. Right behind him was another guard, a sour look on his face as he was determined to keep the procession moving.
And what a procession it was.
Black Lightning followed, then came Fire, then Ice. Each one had their arms in restraints that swallowed up their arms, a guard right behind each of them to keep them moving forward. Last came Steel, who just gave her a nod of acknowledgement, the only thing he could do at that moment.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?!" she demanded as she slid to one side of the door, trying to keep the other Leaguers in her view. It wasn't meant to be, unfortunately, as the entire procession, the perp walk vanished further down the corridor.
"Hey!" the redhead shouted even louder. "Answer me, damn it!"
"I thought the restraints were answer enough."
Shayera jerked her head to find Kragger staring at her, mirth on his face. She immediately scowled at him. "What did you do now?" she growled.
"Earth is now under the jurisdiction of Thanagar," Lieutenant Kiss Ass told her. "Its Justice League resisted us and they have been arrested in turn."
Shayera's green eyes widened. "You can't be serious. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"Removed one obstacle that can interfere with our ultimate goal. You should be behind this, Hol."
In response, the redhead pulled an arm back and slammed her palm on the thick, metal bar holding her prisoner. The collision echoed throughout the brig, but did nothing to phase Kragger. "I swear to all things holy, when I get out of here, I'm going to pulverize that stupid face of yours."
"And you would find that harder than you could ever dream," Kragger responded.
Her eyes narrowed. "You're a monster. You go through this, you'll be no better than a Gordanian."
It was Kragger's turn to harden his stare. "Watch your tongue, Lieutenant—excuse me, former Lieutenant. Your fate rests now with the High Council and they are not nearly as understanding as I am. Your tough act will not go far."
"That's enough, Kragger."
Immediately, the jackass straightened out his posture as he stood at attention. Hro appeared in her sight, waving a hand for Kragger to leave. "Leave us. I need to speak to Lieutenant Hol—alone."
"By your leave." Kragger disappeared from view, leaving the two alone.
"Hro, you have to stop this," Shayera pleaded. "It's not too late to stop. You have the power; please, do this for me."
"I wish that I could," Hro replied. "But…how can I do something as disrespectful as dismissing the will of the High Council for a woman that could not remain faithful?"
This was where he was drawing the line? Billions of lives hung in the balance and Hro was bringing in a personal matter to defend his decision? "Will you grow up?!" she roared. "This has nothing to do with mass genocide!"
Hro stared at her for a moment before he nodded his agreement. "You are right; there is no room for our personal grievances. I…I just need to understand why you did what you did."
This was not a conversation Shayera wanted to have, but she was not in a position to not talk about it. "I…" she immediately trailed off. "I don't…I don't really know myself."
"Just…tell me you were lonely," Hro pleaded. "That you got caught up in the heat of the moment. That it was part of your undercover assignment. I can understand that. It won't make it hurt any less, but I can at least understand."
All of those were reasons and at one time they would have been true. But even now Shayera felt none of them described what she had with John. She had too much integrity to label it as such. It would be a disservice to John as much to Hro.
"It was…at first," she admitted, lowering her head. "I had been here so long and I couldn't help myself. I just…"
She didn't see the look on Hro's face; she honestly didn't want to either. "Do you love him?" he suddenly asked her.
"I know that I love you." She finally tilted her head up to look Hro in his eyes. "I know that I never meant to hurt you. I wish I could take it all back, but that's not something I can do."
Hro reached up with one hand, placing it on the thick bar separating them. The tips of his fingers touched hers. "I wish that too," he whispered to her. "But you did not answer my question."
"Because I don't know how I feel. It's confusing. It's…it's…" she trailed off again, completely helpless. "What can I do to make this right?"
"For now, remove yourself from this matter with Earth," Hro told her. "Stay in here quietly and I will make certain your insubordination never reaches the High Council."
That was the last thing Shayera wanted. She couldn't care less how some old, stodgy men that creaked every time they moved felt about her. Staying locked up was not an option. "And what of Earth?"
"Its fate was sealed the moment Despero decided to add it to his empire. It will now be his final resting place."
"No!" Shayera shouted. "Don't do this, Hro!"
Hro ignored her protest. "I have my orders and you have yours. Prove to me that you are serious about making things right between us and we'll see where that leads us. For now, you will stay here. I'll make certain Kragger keeps his distance so he doesn't mock you further." Hro then turned and left her to watch him leave.
For the first time in a long time, she truly felt despair.
More bad news was coming in, because only bad news could happen nowadays. So far there was no word from the Red Room, meaning they were still inventorying. Steve didn't like this, not one bit. He had been in the Red Room before; hell, he had even taken things into it, and all of it was strange and different and not in a good way.
So naturally with Bordeaux's hope in finding something useful in there, a new alert came up. Like with most agencies in the US that were involved in foreign affairs, they kept track of any and all fluxuations in radiation.
This was the nuclear age. Any change could mean a weapons test or a generator failure. Radiation spiking anywhere was a bad thing, especially in places where people lived.
So, of course, when they were in imminent danger of invasion, one of the many sensors they had monitoring the planet had to go off, and naturally it was the detection system for radiation.
"Where is it?" had been his first demand. Where was incredibly important. There were some places on Earth you didn't want a random spike of radiation to occur; sometimes the results would be catastrophic, as in life ending catastrophic, and no, that was overexaggerating.
The seconds ticked by, and Steve did not like that. Time was of the essence here—
"It's in the Gobi." China. "It's in the location of the Thanagarians' defense shield." Why would there be any kind of radiation spike there? These guys were capable of faster than light travel, so what would they be doing with something like nuclear energy? It didn't make sense to him. Unless they were just using a different power source that also emitted radiation…
"Check the Geiger Counters," he instructed. "Let's double check and make sure what we're looking at is legit."
Maybe he was hyping himself up. Maybe this was normal with this alien defense shield. An overreaction that could be dealt with here and now and not cause some kind of misunderstanding with enormous repercussions. This could be a weird version of a geese triggering a radar and nothing more.
Word came back soon. The Geigers were definitely picking up radioactivity of the nuclear kind. Well shit.
With no other recourse, Steve left to inform Bordeaux. That was easier said than done because she was currently a very busy woman, but he managed. Her response was pretty much what he expected, which was similar to his. She even asked about the Geiger counters.
"What fresh hell is this?" Bordeaux practically moaned. "Nuclear power at an alien installation of which we have doubts about its true purpose. Great. What comes next?"
Well, there was the possibility of paranoia…
"Should Waller send another team to check it out?" It was a question that Steve hated himself for asking, but at the same time would a team of highly trained government agents be able to do that same? Was he willing to risk their lives? Christ, what did it say about him that he was willing to risk hardened criminals?
Bordeaux, though, shook her head. "We don't know enough information. That the Thanagarians are enforcing martial law and hunting down the Justice League, should we still trust them? I know that the relations between A.R.G.U.S. and the League have never been good, but at least with the League we had a good idea where they stood."
A certain broadcast was pointedly not mentioned.
"Then what should we do?" It was the million dollar question, after all.
Blowing air through her lips, the director looked up to the ceiling, obviously thinking her damnedest. Then, without warning, "Contact the Captain—Captain Atom. Inform him of the situation. If he hasn't been caught, then his expertise will be needed. If worse comes to worst, we can trust him to neutralize whatever's going on."
That was a much better idea than unleashing another team of Waller's pets.