CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GOTHAM NATIONAL BANK, GOTHAM CITY.
The bank was in a state of panicked disarray. A gang of armed men in clown masks had taken over the building in a daring daylight robbery.
"No no no," said the ringleader in a Pagliacci mask. "I kill the bus driver."
"Bus driver?" the henchman replied, confused. "What bus-"
Before he could complete his question, a school bus crashed through the vestibule of the bank, striking the henchman and knocking him violently to the floor.
The mystery man in the Pagliacci mask began loading duffel bags full of cash into the back of the bus.
"You think you're smart, huh?" the bank manager yelled. The manager was on the floor, unable to feel his legs after taking a bullet to the stomach in the early minutes of the brazen heist. Despite the critical condition in which he found himself, he remained defiant. "The guy that hired you, he's just gonna do the same to you. Criminals in this town used to believe in things. Honor. Respect. Look at you! What do you believe in?"
The Pagliacci-masked man sauntered over to the enraged manager and towered above him.
"Tell me something, my friend," the masked man said. He pulled a gun out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and aimed it at the manager. "Do you ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight? I always ask that of all my prey. I just like the sound of it."
There was an epic boom as part of the bank wall blew inward, knocking the clown off of his feet.
Standing in the smoke and rubble was Iron Man, his arms outstretched and palms open as the whine of his repulsor beams wound up for another charge.
"Make a move, Ronald McDonald," Iron Man quipped. "I dare you."
There was a whoosh and a snap as a dark figure descended from somewhere up above, swooping his cape down around him dramatically as he landed beside the confused clown. Batman grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hoisted him up off the floor. He yanked the Pagliacci mask off of him. He was caught off guard by what he saw.
The unmasked man had pale white skin, and green hair that was combed neatly. His lips were bright red, as if he were wearing cherry-colored lipstick. His mouth was pulled back in a perpetual grin, making his cheek bones look unnaturally prominent.
"Nice outfit," the Joker replied with a sly chuckle.
Batman shoved him back to the ground. "It's not him," he snarled. "At least, not the right him."
"What do you mean?" Iron Man asked, stepping over the rubble and approaching Batman.
"The JLA files said that there were three Jokers. I thought it was a mistake at first. But this isn't the Joker that should be here."
Batman took a palm pilot out of his belt. He tapped a few commands into it.
Holographic images of three different Joker faces hovered in mid-air above the device.
"They're listed as The Criminal, The Clown, and The Comedian," Batman explained. "The historical files say the one that was supposed to be here at the bank was The Clown." He indicated a Joker who had scraggly, greasy hair, ghastly scars coming up from the corners of his mouth, and what looked like haphazardly applied face paint. He did not have a real name listed. "But instead, we have The Criminal." He indicated the hologram of the Joker they had just unmasked, whose real name was listed as Jack Napier. The third Joker, The Comedian, was listed as Arthur Fleck, a gangly man with long hair whose face paint looked similar to a traditional circus clown.
"So how the hell are there three of them, and why is the wrong one here?" Iron Man asked.
"I don't know," Batman said. He looked down at 'The Criminal' Joker, who was appearing quite amused with himself. "But I think someone is playing an elaborate joke on us."
. . . . . .
THE TIME VARIANCE AUTHORITY.
Superman was leaning against one of the thick glass walls of the enclosure he was trapped in, arms folded across his chest. The crimson glow of the red sun lamp above him was casting the small room in a dim and eerie hue.
"You were right, by the way," he said.
Peter Parker looked up. He was sitting on the floor of his own enclosure, his knees against his chest with his arms wrapped around them. "What was I right about?" he asked.
"Back at the fortress," Superman said. "You called me Clark. I said that no one calls me that anymore. You said that I had become detached from humanity. And you were right. I have. I thought that being Superman all the time was what the world needed from me. But when Doctor Fate used the soul stone on me, the feelings it brought back were Clark Kent's. When Professor Xavier and Jean Grey trapped me in my old memories, the time they reached back to was when I was growing up on the farm in Smallville. I can't make the decisions that I need to make every day as Superman without the experiences I had as Clark. So in a way, if I'm not Clark… then I'm not Superman, either."
Peter considered this thoughtfully.
"If we get out of here… No. WHEN we get out of here," Superman said. "The first thing I'm going to do is find Lois. It's been so long since I've seen her. She has always been my anchor. The thing that tethers me to the world. The person who brings out the best in me. The one who reminds me what I'm fighting for when things start to look hopeless. I… I miss her. And I guess, I thought, after I defeat Darkseid, then everything will go back to normal and I can be with her again. But I don't think I can keep waiting for that. I need her in my life to make everything make sense." He paused a moment. "I know she won't know me in this timeline. But I have to start somewhere. I have to find her, Pete."
"You will," Peter said. "I know you will, man. I'm glad you're figuring all of this out. I'm glad that something I said helped you realize all of this. But mostly I'm sorry you've been waiting so long to try to put your own life back together. That sounds so… lonely."
"Yeah," Superman said quietly.
There was a long silence.
"Can I ask you something?" Peter asked.
"Sure."
"The timeline that you're from. The other me. The one who was Spider-Man. Was he… like… am I like him? Or are we a lot different?"
Superman thought for a moment. "You mean aside from him shooting webs out of his wrists?"
"Yeah, aside from that."
"I mean, it's hard to say. You've had two very different lives. The Peter Parker I knew lost his Uncle Ben in a senseless act of violence. It was something that haunted him because he felt that he could've stopped it. He carried a lot of guilt and pain over that. But he was also one of the most optimistic people I've ever met. And he was really funny. He had a great sense of humor. He would do anything for his friends. He was the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off of his back without expecting anything in return. Those qualities, Pete, I do see in you. I don't think a spider bite made 'my' Peter Parker a good person. And I don't think the lack of super powers makes you any less of one."
"Hm. The lack of super powers," Peter repeated.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Green Lantern ring. He rolled it back and forth between his thumb and index finger.
"Can I ask you one more question?"
"Of course."
Peter nodded upwards at the red sun lamp that was suspended above Superman's enclosure.
"I thought red kryptonite just turned you into, like, kind of an asshole or something."
Superman cleared his throat. "That's not red kryptonite. It's a red sun lamp. It mimics the effects of the red sun of the planet Krypton, which negates my powers."
"And what would happen if that light went out?"
"My powers would come back," Superman said. "I wouldn't be at full strength right away. It kind of lingers for a bit, at least until I get back out into the light of the yellow sun. But I'd be strong enough to break out of here, for sure."
"That's what I thought," Peter said. He stood up. He examined the top of the cell he was in, a few feet above his head. There were small holes to allow air to flow in and out of the enclosure.
"What are you doing?" Superman asked.
Peter slid the ring onto his finger. It began to glow.
"Cover your head," Peter said.
He raised his fist above his head. Very carefully and with delicate precision, he fired a thin beam of energy out of the ring. He aimed it perfectly, sending the finely focused laser light through one of the air holes and straight at the red sun lamp.
There was a sizzle and a bit of smoke. The red light flashed on and off a few times. Then it finally gave out with a spectacular shower of bright crimson sparks and broken glass. The light went out, leaving Superman and Peter Parker in darkness except for the faint emerald glow of the ring.
Peter heard a sensational crash that could only be the sound of Superman smashing right through the walls of his cell.
A moment later, Peter could hear the walls of his own enclosure being torn apart.
"C'mon," Superman said. "Let's get out of here, Pete."
"Sounds good to me… Clark," Peter said.
Though he could scarcely see due to the dim lighting, Peter was pretty sure that Superman was smiling.
They made their way down several dark and winding corridors. The labyrinthine nature of the TVA and the fact that its architectural design made no real logical sense made it difficult to navigate. They had to hope that they were going in the right direction.
"Mobius told that TVA agent to take the gauntlet to the archive room," Superman said. "If we can just figure out where that is, we can use the gauntlet to get us home."
"You make it sound so easy," Peter replied. The ring was providing just enough of a soft green glow to light the dark hallway in front of them. "For all we know we could be going around in cir-"
SLAM! A horrific face slammed up against the glass wall of another enclosure that Peter had not even realized he'd nearly walked into. The dark face had fiendishly large white eyes and a disgusting tongue that slithered and slid its way across huge jagged razor-like teeth. The vile visage slipped back as if it were melting, and gave way to the angry face of Emo Peter Parker.
"Let. Us. Out. Of. Here," Emo Peter demanded.
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Superman and Peter Parker noticed a second occupant of this cell. The red-kryptonite-ring-wearing Kal sneered at them from over Emo Peter's shoulder.
"We heard that gray-haired old geezer say they were 'pruning' our timeline," Kal said bitterly. "Do you know what that means? It means we don't have a home to go back to." He walked up to the wall of the enclosure and stood right next to Emo Peter, scowling at Superman through the glass. "So I guess when we get out of here… we're going to have to come take over your world instead."
Superman's eyes narrowed. "You're welcome to try," he said.
Kal grinned. "I'll make you eat those words, boy scout."
"Come on," Superman said to Peter. "Let's keep walking."
They continued on down the hallway.
. . . . . .
THE T.V.A. ARCHIVE ROOM.
After wandering the halls for what seemed like hours (although there was no way to keep track of time, if time even moved normally inside the TVA), Superman and Peter Parker finally found the archive room. The door squeaked open on rusty hinges as they carefully snuck inside. What they found was a humongous high-ceilinged room filled with row upon row of tall metal shelving units, each one overflowing with countless items that the TVA had apparently confiscated from various timelines.
"How are we supposed to find the gauntlet?" Superman wondered aloud.
"Here," Peter said, pointing. "This looks like some kind of cataloging system."
Indeed, there was a large wooden bureau with dozens of small drawers. Each drawer contained index cards with item names and locations, akin to an old-fashioned library Dewey Decimal System card catalog. Peter pulled out a drawer and started thumbing through cards.
"Cube, Cosmic…" he mumbled to himself as he flipped through the cards. "Destiny, Book of… Destiny, Spear of…" After a few minutes of searching he called out, "I found it. Gauntlet, Infinity. Row 5157, shelf 451, item 17."
Superman noticed a control panel on the wall with a numeric keypad. He typed in the numbers that Peter had read. Five, one, five, seven. Four, five, one. One, seven. There was a clacking and clanking and the shelves began to move and rotate along a track on the floor, bringing forth the location they had indicated.
The shelves came to a stop. There, right in front of them, was the Infinity Gauntlet.
"Well that wasn't so bad," Peter said.
He reached out to grab the gauntlet off the shelf.
Alarms started blaring and lights began to flash on and off rapidly.
"That's why we don't say things like that," Superman said.
The door to the archive room flew open. Dozens of TVA agents filed into the room, all with plasma rifles drawn and aimed at Superman and Peter. From the back of the pack, Mobius sauntered in, hands in his pockets, with an expression that seemed equal parts annoyance and amusement.
"Wow," Mobius said. Again, his accent made it sound more like wa-ow. "I don't know how you guys got out of your containment units. Thing is though, I can't let you leave here with the gauntlet. I really can't. You've made Swiss cheese of the timeline already. The more you keep tampering with things, it's just going to keep getting worse. So, please. Pretty please. Step away from the gauntlet. Let's go somewhere and talk. We've got a great espresso machine in the cafeteria. Let's just go chat, what do you say?"
"I appreciate your situation, Mobius," Superman said. "I know you're just trying to protect the timeline. And I'm sorry for anything that we've done that has made your job more complicated. But we're not leaving here without that gauntlet."
"Then you're not leaving here," Mobius said with a concerned frown.
There was a series of high-pitched electronic whines as the dozens of TVA agents primed their plasma rifles.
"Psst," Peter whispered out of the side of his mouth. "When you said you wouldn't be at full power after we shut down the red sun lamp. What, um, what power level would you say you're at?"
"Fifty percent?" Superman whispered back. "Maybe fifty-five?"
"How's that hold up against a plasma rifle?" Peter asked.
"I think we're about to find out," Superman replied.
"Something you want to share with the class, boys?" Mobius asked.
"Look, you don't want to start a fight with us," Superman replied to Mobius. He slowly started reaching for the gauntlet. "We're just going to take the gauntlet, and we'll be on our-"
BRZZZAAPT!
One of the TVA agents blasted Superman with the plasma rifle. The powerful concussive force of the discharge blew Superman across the room, knocking over several rows of the tall metal shelves.
"Hey!" Peter yelled. Almost without thinking, he lashed out with the fist that was sporting the Green Lantern ring. A burst of emerald energy shot out of the ring and seared the end off of the rifle, destroying the weapon instantly.
"How'd he get a Green Lantern ring?!" the TVA agent yelled.
"He must've found one here in the archive room!" Mobius replied. "Get them!"
More plasma rifles began to fire wildly into the room. Peter threw up a defensive barrier with the ring and quickly sprinted between two rows of shelves. He dodged and weaved up and down different rows even as he heard the agents starting to chase after him.
As he ran, he noticed another keypad on a nearby wall. He frantically punched in numbers at random until the shelves started to move again. At least this would keep the agents from following him too closely. He heard clanging and banging as the TVA agents bumped into the rotating shelves, tripping and knocking things over. Another plasma blast tore through a shelf right above Peter's head, sending debris shooting everywhere.
He could hear the clomping of boots getting closer behind him. He zigged and zagged around the rows of shelves as they rotated and turned corners, trying to keep as many obstacles as possible between himself and his pursuers. He knocked things off of shelves as he ran, hoping to obstruct the path behind him even more.
The shelves stopped rotating. Peter reached a dead end. He was boxed in.
"He's over here!" someone yelled.
The stomping boots were getting closer.
Peter stood with his back to the wall, fist clenched, power ring glowing.
Another plasma blast tore through the shelving unit closest to Peter, sending artifacts scattering to the floor. A troop of about five or six TVA agents were closing in on him, guns pointed right at him.
Peter braced himself.
BRZZZAAPT!
There was a whoosh. Superman was in front of Peter, holding a red, white and blue shield.
There was a tremendous din as the plasma beam reverberated off of the shield and sent shockwaves throughout the archive room. Shelf after shelf after shelf toppled over like dominoes, some of them pinning down TVA agents who yelled out startled profanities.
"Where'd you get that?" Peter exclaimed.
"It was under 'V' for Vibranium," Superman replied, holding up a card from the card catalog.
"Nice," Peter smiled.
"Don't move!" Another TVA agent stepped out from behind one of the few remaining shelving units. His gun was trained on the back of Peter's head. "Take off the ring, drop the shield, and come with me. Now!"
Superman raised an eyebrow. He looked from Peter to the shield and back again. Peter gave an almost imperceptible nod.
With a quick flick of the wrist Peter shot an energy blast from the power ring at the shield. It bounced off, ricocheting back behind Peter and striking the TVA agent in the chest. It bowled him over and sent him reeling to the ground. The plasma rifle clattered across the floor.
With the archive room in ruins, Superman and Peter Parker casually stepped over unconscious agents, shattered shelves, and various multiversal artifacts. They found the Infinity Gauntlet, now laying unceremoniously on the floor among a bunch of debris.
Superman picked it up and dusted it off.
He looked over at Mobius, who was now laying on the ground covered in dust, dirt, and broken glass. His suit was disheveled, his hair was a mess, and he looked miserable.
"Don't come after us again," Superman said.
Mobius brushed some of the dirt off of his jacket. "Noted," he said, meekly.
Superman put on the gauntlet as he and Peter stood next to each other. The space, time, and reality gems lit up, and, in the blink of an eye, the two men vanished.
There was a creak as the door to the archive room swung open again. Loki entered. He stepped over the broken, busted, and battered artifacts. He extended a hand to Mobius and helped him stand up.
"Do you think that worked?" Loki asked. He snapped his fingers and the shelves and all of their artifacts returned to their rightful places, miraculously back in pristine order.
"Well, we've got the two of them working together instead of at each other's throats," Mobius replied. "Will it be enough to turn the tide? We'll have to wait and see."