The New 52 Redux

by YouKnowItMakesSense

What if Flashpoint hadn't changed reality and the New Earth continuity had persisted? Time and space still tried to assert itself in the form of Eobard Thawne returning to the present as Eddie Thawne, a messiah of resurrection for the world six months after the Blackest Night. And he really does want to change the world.

7. The Cabal

Wayne Manor

"You sure no one is here, Krona?" Thawne asked to the Oan floating beside him as they stalked the grounds of Wayne Manor, searching for an unmarked grave. Theirs was an odd relationship, but one of advantage to both parties. They had both found one another in limbo, and Krona had shown him how to harness the Entity for himself. Thawne didn't entirely trust Krona but then again who should in this game. Krona wanted the Entity to have a host, since the creature needed someone able to transcend life to harness it. No one was quite like Eobard Thawne in that regard. Thawne had had to lie to make those heroes who caught them in Star City believe he didn't have the creature inside of him, and that he was merely a priest of the creature. Suspecting he was Eobard Thawne was one thing and proving he was…was something else altogether. He was too weak from his resurrection to allow himself anywhere near a telepath like J'onn J'onzz. Now, he had been rejuvenated through taking the power of Jericho and the Flash. Through a quirk of Joey's bodysnatching power combined with his own knowledge of the Speed Force, Thawne was now able to generate interference in his mind to prevent any telepath from ever finding out who he was. "The butler and Batman have gone to the funeral as you predicted. That really could have gone better, that incident in the Watchtower."

Thawne had to agree with his comrade there. The destruction and then resurrection of Keystone City would have been a great coup for him. His plan to become a wandering preacher healing the sick was necessary to give him the status he desired. Still, since Krona had stolen the Black Mercy from S.T.A.R. Labs as well as a particle disseminator, the entire atmosphere of planet Earth was making people…content. There was just enough of the Black Mercy to make people want to accept the status quo, or trust whoever was telling them what to do. Soon, his plan of immediate and total war with the advanced civilisations on the planet would come to fruition and he would cleanse the world of the heroes who would not serve his vision. Too long had he focused on getting back at Barry Allen. In reality, Barry was small fry. A feckless fool whose vision was limited. Too immature to be a hero. But Barry's actions had made Thawne realise what heroes wanted. They wanted what anyone did. Their loved ones to be by their side. And Thawne could offer them that with his new powers. The heroes might question what was happening, and why these people had come back. But that was what the Black Mercy was for. Krona was a brilliant scientist, as was Thawne. Together they had synthesised the Black Mercy to make others susceptible to what they wanted as the plant did when it created the "perfect world" for its victims through its hallucinogens. Some would resist, but Thawne wanted them too. It would be more fun that way.

"We are here," Krona told his companion. Thawne headed to a nearby tool shed and withdrew a shovel. "You're sure he's even alive down there?" the human asked. Krona lifted his bulbous, enlarged head to stare at Thawne directly. "Even if he isn't, it's not beyond our powers to change that." "Yes," Thawne said with a slight hint of doubt, "But then what would the point of bringing him back be if he's not immortal on his own steam?" Krona grimaced. "Just trust the brains of the operation, Thawne." "The arrogance of your people," Thawne remarked, "is so irrelevant considering you're all extinct by my time." Thawne speed shovelled his way through the earth until he hit wood. "You say the Joker buried him here months back? Why would he do that?"

"Are you trying to discern logic from a madman, Thawne."

"We tend to use our brains sometimes, even if our motives might be considered psychotic."

"I almost forgot who I was talking to."

"This is coming from the guy who slaughtered an entire sector of space to prove a point about emotion?"

"I wept—"

"Yeah, we've heard it all before. You wept for their deaths, yadda, yadda." Thawne heaved the coffin up with super speed, before opening the lid to reveal a man in a costume mask resembling a bat lying in the coffin, seeming more like he was sleeping than dead. "I can't see any sign of life. No breath, nothing. Are you sure, Krona?" A sharp gasp of breath ushered from the man and he stumbled out of the coffin slowly but surely. Eventually, he straightened his breath before inhaling slowly and looked at them both. "How am I still in Gotham?" were the erudite words brought forth with an accent that sounded more English than American, yet not quite at the same time. Thawne was puzzled. "You've been in a coffin for months and you care about not moving location?" "I could not mistake the stench of my hometown if I were buried beneath lava," the man said, "and it is never pleasant. It has gotten less so the uglier this place has become. The generations after mine have done nothing but destroy the environment and riddle my home with crime. Sometimes, I wonder whether Batman has a point."

"Krona, I thought you said we were obtaining an immortal genius, not an old man who rages against change."

"Krona? Ah, Barbatos and his words speak of you, little blue god. The Guardians of Everything? Protectors of the Universe? I'm not sure I really care what you're called. Krona? Yes, my arcane readings have told me much about you. You created the multiverse, did you not?"

"You seem remarkably well informed for a human."

"We Waynes have a tendency for being bright. And I've had plenty of centuries to hone my knowledge."

"You haven't told me who he is, Krona. For some reason the Entity doesn't want me to know. Almost like she's afraid of him."

"Oh, my apologies. Dr Simon Hurt, formerly known as Thomas Wayne. Head of the international criminal organisation known as the Black Glove and Conqueror of the Batman."

"Conqueror of the Batman? Ha, even I couldn't do that and the Flash is terrified of me."

"But I did indeed conquer Batman. I sent Bruce Wayne to an early grave—"

"First off, no you didn't. Second, Batman died fighting Darkseid. Not you, Darkseid. Third, he wasn't killed he was sent back in time. And if you're buried in his backyard, you are hardly Batman's conqueror."

"Conquest is a long game."

"One which you failed at it seems, Thomas Wayne, son of Hannah Faulkner."

"Eobard, there is no call to be rude to our guest. Forgive him, Dr Hurt, he is merely more arrogant than usual this evening since he killed an old enemy."

"Not just any old enemy. Kid Flash himself! Barry Allen's replacement! Wally West! Ooh, it gives me goosebumps just thinking about how great I am."

"Well, gentlemen, whilst it is riveting to hear all about your own psychotic quirks, I assume you both exhumed me for a reason. I don't like to break favours, I'm old-fashioned that way."

"Eobard and I require you to join a group we are forming. Specifically, a group of immortals."

"To do what?"

"Isn't it obvious? Destroy the superheroes."

Oa

The new cell was quite advanced, but not cruel. It was in recognition of the service Hal had provided to the Green Lantern Corps. A gilded cage to rival that of the patriarchy. Hal didn't get much refreshments, but he had a bed and a locker beside it. And he had his own wardrobe. Good excuse to wear his old pilot uniform when needed. The only thing that seemed like punishment apart from the isolation was constant interviews on the state of his emotions every day. Those were beyond tedious. He had an inkling what the Guardians were doing to him because of their earlier experiments and wasn't going to entertain them. He always lied and acted like he was even more ambivalent than them. He hoped that didn't make them think humans were all soulless and depressed, but any good scientist knows you need more than one test subject. They kept sending different Lanterns to interview him every time. The first few had been random Alpha Lanterns he wouldn't have given the time of day if he could help it before. Then they started sending the likes of Kilowog and Arisia when they were off duty to talk to him. He tried his best to not act pleased to see them which hurt Hal a little, but he was willing to torture himself to deprive the Guardians of what they wanted. Sometimes he thought Krona had a point in thinking humans would make better Guardians since they were ruled by emotion. Then he remembered that being emotional had driven Krona to madness with the responsibility of his species and thought less of it. Still, for every Krona there was a Ganthet. Things weren't so absolute. Kilowog was doing it today and he could really care less. Then, Hal realised something.

"Where are Guy, John and Kyle?"

"That ain't no concern of yours, poozer."

"Come on, Kilowog, we're friends. You just mentioned they weren't around. What's up?"

"They had to go back home for a funeral."

"What do you mean? What funeral could all three of them possibly go to that no other Lantern would?"

"Uh, the Flash. Wally West." Hal was stunned, showing a sign of emotion to one of his interviewers for the first time in weeks. "W-Wally's dead." Kilowog seemed bashful. "Yeah, Hal. He, um, he crashed their old Watchtower into Earth's moon in some accident they weren't able to explain."

"Why didn't the Guardians tell me this?"

"Stewart asked them could they, and well they said no. They didn't want to cause you undue "emotional disturbance" because of this."

"Emotional disturbance! I'll show them emotional disturbance. I've known Wally West for nearly twenty years, since he was just a kid! And I don't get to hear that he's dead." Hal stood up and threw the table he and Kilowog were sitting at towards the forcefield blocking off his cell. "You think that's right, do you, Kilowog? Huh?"

"No, of course I don't. But what can I do?"

"Get me out of here. Come on, it won't be the first time you stood up to the Guardians."

"Hal, I—"

"Tell them I tricked you. Stole your ring somehow and flew back to Earth before you knew anything."

"Hal, they need you here!"

"For what? For what possible reason beyond me gossiping about universal secrets back on Earth could they want to keep me here?"

"Because they want to tap into your emotions…make a weapon of some kind. They aren't telling us what."

"And you're just going to let me be their guinea pig, when I could be back on Earth rebuilding my life. The life I all but gave up for the Corps! What a load!" The base then seemed to shake. "What the heck was that? Don't tell me Krona's back. They can't keep me here if he is!" Kilowog opened up a communicator on his ring. "Can any of you poozers on Oa tell me what the frag just happened?" Arisia's face then appeared. "A bomb just went off in the centre of the citadel, Kilowog. No casualties, but we're sending all units to investigate."

"Don't do that. It's obvious they're distracting you."

"Still, we've got to check." Static began to interfere then as two Lanterns walked up to the door to relieve Kilowog from duty. They both seemed to have a grey appearance about them, as if neither came from a species as interesting as Hal or Kilowog's. "We're here to escort the prisoner to a safe location for the Guardians, Lantern Kilowog." "They told me nothing about this," Kilowog bellowed as he confronted both of them after opening the forcefield, "State your name and sector, Lanterns, 'cuz I recognise neither of youse."

"Bombus Globulus, Lantern 2812."

"Romulus Halotus, Lantern 2813."

"Neither of those sectors has Lanterns with either of those names. Hold still a sec' while I alert the Guardians, we've got intruders using cloaking devices."

"Well, it was worth a shot," one of them said before throwing tear gas on the floor. "Hal, come quick!" came the voice of another Hal seemed to recognise it as he zipped under a spluttering Kilowog and began running through the base, following the two Lanterns. He began sprinting as Wally would want him to, from corridor to corridor until they reached the edge overlooking the planet's surface. They all settled down at the precipice of a large fall. He recognised both of them now that their glamours had been removed. "Rip Hunter? Booster Gold? What the hell are you two doing springing me from here, I would have thought Clark or someone would come, but you two? And Booster, you've aged a lot since we last met." Michael smirked. "I'm a lot older than the Booster Gold you know, Hal Jordan. About thirty years or so, I should say. Rip and I are here to ensure the timeline is stabilised, and you being in a Sciencell on Oa at this time is a massive contradiction."

"And why is that?" Father and son both looked at each other before Rip Hunter decided there was no point lying to an anomaly. "Because you should be dead. You should never have come back after you sacrificed yourself as Parallax. You should still be the Spectre, not Green Lantern again. The fact that you are even still breathing let alone imprisoned is a disgrace to the timeline."

"So, you're here to kill me?"

"Don't be silly. We need someone like you to help us, because if we're going to set the timeline right, you can't exactly be hanging around the present day, now can you?"

"Fair point. But I think we're all in for a heap of trouble if we don't find a way out quick." Hal indicated how Kilowog was now following them. An alarm began blaring and several Lanterns seemed to arise from below. "Well, then," Rip said, "we're going to need a shortcut. Dad, can you hail Lobo and get him to fly to our coordinates, pronto!" "Dad?" Hal said in surprise. Booster then radioed Lobo their coordinates on his comms device, as Kilowog, Arisia and several other Lanterns surrounded them. "It's over, Hal. Whoever your friends are here, you and they need to both come quietly."

"Or what, Kilowog? You'll shoot me."

"That's what the Guardians want if you don't accept our terms."

"You won't kill me, Kilowog. We go back way too long."

"You seem to forget something, Hal. We went back a long way when you killed me, too. I know you were possessed, but that don't change jack. Now, last warning!"

"Okay, Rip, he means it. What do we do?"

"Jump!"

"Jump?"

"You heard him, Hal. Jump!" Hal followed suit as the two of them seemed to jump to their deaths in an extraordinary leap of faith. When he landed, Hal found himself in the control room of a large sprawling ship. It bore a resplendent silver interior with Adam Strange of all people working with a man who looked like a young Brainiac over what appeared to be a map of the universe. Hal was so jarred he couldn't rise from the floor, but was then lifted up by of all people, Starfire. "Kory? What the hell are you doing here? Thanks for the rescue and everything, but..." "Rip Hunter and his father asked us to come with them to Sector 666," she said, "But there is one problem. We do not know the way to Sector 666." That was when Rip and Michael walked in covered in excrement. "Some flying, Lobo!" Michael bellowed at the Czarnian in the driver's seat who revealed himself to Hal and all others present, "We were literally a second ahead of Hal and we land in the trash heap while he just waltzes in like it's nobody's business."

"I wouldn't exactly call landing on my ass like this a waltz."

"I saved the lives of you bastiches," the pilot replied, "Consider that another favour you owe me. Now when are we getting to Sector 666?" Hal recognised Lobo as the pilot, then realised the Coluan with Adam Strange was Lyrl Dox aka Brainiac 3, the grandson of Superman's enemy. "What do you need these people for, Rip?" Michael turned to Hal to field the question on his son's behalf. "Koriand'r is needed to sort out a major divergence in the timeline in Sector 666, which involves her, Lobo and Nightwing. Since Nightwing is not a hero exactly suited to deep space, we figured maybe Adam Strange would be better for backup. And he doesn't mind do you, Adam?" Adam Strange looked up from his notes with a grimace at Michael and Rip. "Poor guy misses his family. And we haven't exactly been clear with them what we need. Don't want them rushing in headfirst to anything, now do we?"

"So, you need me to fly to Sector 666? Fine, but after that you're taking me back to Earth. I have enough super friends to protect me from the Guardians there so I don't need to stay on this…time machine. By the way, Rip since when is your means of transport a spaceship?"

"Since his parents bought him one years ago for his 21st. Acted like it never existed. He had his brilliant 'time machine' instead. It was just a load of old junk from Skeets' leftovers, it's beyond useless on its own now. I got him to fit the components of the Waverider into the engine of this thing a while ago. It could run a bit smoother, but it's better than fitting all of us on a big floating disk."

"Why, how long did it take to get you here?"

"Six…maybe…nine months."

"Wow, Rip used to be such a professional until he brought his old man along. By the way, since when was Booster Gold your dad?"

"Ah, I can see you're confused, Hal. See, me and his mother were very much in love. And we had these urges…"

"Don't take me for a fool, Booster. I've been in prison a long time, now! I meant how come you're telling us now that Booster Gold is your father, and not when we knew either of you?" Rip uncomfortably moved his hand behind his head. "Well, you know how timelines work, Hal. It wouldn't do for one of my dad's teammates to have the knowledge that he would one day…conceive me. The causal balance would collapse in a minute. You could let anything slip to his younger self."

"That still doesn't explain why you're telling any of us right now."

"That's because…well…" "I'll handle this, son," Michael interrupted, "We're telling you now, Hal, because…if all goes well, after this you'll be dead."

"Now wait just one f—"

"What Dad means is that preferably we will have our own timeline re-established. That doesn't mean you will physically die, Hal. It just means you'll become a paradox. And while normally I wouldn't tolerate that, we're willing to offer you a place on the Waverider."

"Nuts to this. I've just traded in one prison for another, haven't I? So, you're saying I can't go back to Earth and start my life again? What is so important about your timeline that either of you could deny me that?" Michael and Rip looked solemnly at their own shoes as they bit their lips in a most uncomfortable fashion. Kory put her hand on Hal's shoulder in that compassionate Tamaranean way she always seemed to comfort others with. "Rip Hunter's wife and son were killed. As was his mother…his father's wife." Hal seemed despondent then for feeling selfish. "Oh, sorry…but how can my being dead bring them back?"

"We don't know. We're just tracking anomalies to this period of history we believe to be connected to a certain someone…"

"And that someone would be?"

"Eobard Thawne." A look of dread filled Hal's face as he rushed over to the driver's seat. "Sector 666, you said. Yeah, I can get you there. Then we're going straight to Earth to sort the rest of this shit out! I am not letting that man ruin another one of the people I love's lives!" With that, Hal activated the warp drive and plotted a course for the dead world of Ryut…

Odym

It felt like forever since leaving the JLA, but Donna Troy had barely been with the Blue Lantern Corps for a month. She needed this period of closure in her life for a while now. Everything with Roy and Lian had made her realise she couldn't just carry on as a superhero. Having friends as amazingly kind as Dick Grayson to be there for you didn't always work when you watched your on again, off again boyfriend lose his child and then experience your own child turning into a Black Lantern any easier. Not to mention they had lost Garth, one of their oldest and dearest friends, and didn't have time to grieve him because so much pain was being felt from everything else happening to them. Diana had convinced her to join Dick's Justice League because it would be good for her. And while Dick, Kara, Jesse, and even Congorilla had been amazing friends Donna still found herself feeling hollow. Then she really got to know Saint Walker. The Blue Lantern that everyone seemed to know. He told her of his philosophy of hope despite everything, as well as his own story. How he had had such faith in his god, and the idea that a messiah could be found at the top of a mountain to save their planet as its sun died. He lost all of his family: parents, siblings, wife and children. And in the end, he found no messiah as the only survivor, only to realise that he was the messiah as he restored his planet's sun as the first of the Blue Lantern Corps. He was an exemplar to anyone who wished to find closure despite loss. And Donna was feeling better being with his Corps. Not happy yet, but better.

Being a photographer for years had helped Donna see the beauty in the world, but not everything was beautiful about the universe. This same universe had ended her marriage, then killed her ex-husband and son. Not because of a supervillain but in a goddamn car crash. Donna was strong though. This had happened years ago, and she was coming to terms with it. Then the Blackest Night came. Saint Walker seemed like the only person in the world she wanted to think like. As kind and loving as Diana could be, Donna realised that their fire as Amazon warriors could transcend that sometimes, and she needed to become more zen. She thought to herself if only Vic Sage were alive, I wouldn't have crossed the galaxy to find peace.

As she began scouring her memories for hope, Donna suddenly felt as if something was talking to her. A white light. Calling for help as if something had trapped it. It showed her visions…visions of death and destruction on Earth. A war of her sisters against Arthur and Garth's people with America as the battleground. But how? Then she saw the Flash…not Wally, but Barry…fighting the Reverse-Flash, as evil a villain as ever there was on that same battlefield. But then, the Reverse-Flash was killed by…Batman? No, that can't have been Bruce or Dick. Donna knew they'd both rather let the world end than take a life. Then she saw Titans Tower exploding in a large red heat with several people she knew inside. Cassie, Conner, Bart, Damian…so many young, innocent people. No, she would not let this happen. But she found herself so helpless as in the dream she was embracing a young red-haired boy. Why would she do that and abandon her friends like that? Then suddenly a light tap on her shoulder occurred. "Donna," said the all too familiar voice of Saint Walker, "the Green Lantern by the name of Kyle Rayner is here to see you. He says he has urgent news concerning events on Earth." Donna smiled. Of all the people to come visit her it had to be her ex-boyfriend the arty superhero, Kyle Rayner. She didn't like the sound of urgency though, not after what she'd just seen.

Walking through the serene gardens of the Blue Lanterns' homeworld, Donna felt herself calm down despite what she had seen. She'd seen visions of doom and gloom before this, that came to nothing. We all have bad dreams. Why can't Donna Troy have them like everyone else and not worry for the end of days? It had seemed throughout the entire vision as if something was pleading with her, however. As if a creature infinitely powerful and at the same time infinitely kind had been hijacked by an aggressive power who wished to twist their power for an evil end. Should she return to Earth? She didn't know what to think, but as soon as she saw Kyle Rayner she had to run up and hug him. Despite formerly being lovers, Donna and Kyle were still the best of friends. She even liked to put his later girlfriends through a screening of her own to see were they worthy of him. "It's great to see you, Donna," Kyle said with relief as he seemed to inhale deeply, like he had never seen another human being for years. But Donna knew what happened when men were like that. They were holding back emotion. They had bad news.

"What is it, Kyle?" she asked as she parted from their hug and looked into his eyes. "Wally is dead. He crashed the Watchtower into the Moon to stop it hitting Keystone City. We don't know who or what hijacked the tower yet, but Clark suspects Red Tornado went berserk somehow. His head was the only thing we recovered apart from Wally's body, and any attempts at reactivating him have been…unsuccessful. Diana told me she thought you might be here, so I thought I'd drop off before coming to Oa and tell you the news. Are you…okay?" Donna couldn't help but weep after he asked her that. Not Wally. Anyone but Wally. She had had a feeling that a guy as sensitive as Kyle wouldn't interrupt her meditation without it being something serious. But Wally, dead? And he had such an amazing life. He had done more to inherit the mantle of a hero than any of the rest of the Titans could have hoped and become the greatest husband and father she had ever known. In another life, maybe Donna and he could have been something. But now it felt like her little brother had been shot right in front of her face. "By Rhea, he can't be dead, Kyle! Wally was the survivor. He was the one who stood up, who made something of himself, while the rest of us just kept beating up villains and not giving a damn about who we were!"

"That's not fair, especially on you, Donna. You're a brilliant photographer and you were an amazing mother."

"I know, but Wally had a family and he was taken away from them. It's not the same…they were taken from me. Oh, Gods!" Donna cried to herself for another couple of minutes as he kept a hand on her shoulder in the knowledge of her grief and sharing it. Donna then dried her eyes, hugged Kyle again and asked, "Is there anything else?" Kyle then smiled as if he was the cat who had caught the cream all of a sudden. "Well…there is some very good news I know you'll love. Lian Harper is alive." Donna started bawling then, but with tears of joy. Her sweet little girl was alive, the girl everyone on the team had loved. If only life had turned out different, and everything with Prometheus hadn't happened. No more than Roy she blamed herself for it, and she couldn't look him in the eye afterwards. "Lian's alive…well then, that settles it."

"Settles what?"

"I've got to go back. There's more to it than Lian being back, but she does ice the cake a little bit. I've been having visions, Kyle. The Earth's in danger. And I don't think Diana or Clark or anyone will be able to stop it."

"Then why go back?"

"Because it's my planet, dummy. We don't all have lives in space good enough that we can just leave it behind. Everyone I love is there…and I can't just let it go. Not for love nor…hope."

"You are amazing, Donna Troy, you know that."

"If only that were true, Kyle."

Burnley, Gotham

The night Wally West died two men walked into a bar in Gotham. Neither were there out of particular fondness for the other, but they both wanted a drink to process everything they'd just been through. These men were Oliver Queen and John Constantine. Since being teleported from the Justice League Watchtower they had gone to make sure Pamela Isley was taking good care of Alec Holland, which she indeed was. After a brief stop by Wayne Enterprises, and a few hours of Constantine loudly complaining before they were accosted by security and he nearly cast a castration hex in response, Alfred Pennyworth had arrived and handed them both a cheque for $1000. Ollie didn't know why he still hung out with Constantine right now. Practically speaking, he knew it was because he didn't want to go back to Star City without Alec, but also because, as much of an ass as Constantine could be, there was something irritatingly likable about him. He was unapologetic in being such a sinner, and yet he wasn't evil. He was the kind of everyman Ollie had always wanted to be friends with to wed his sense of social justice with his paternalistic liberalism.

Thankfully, neither of them were in costume when they entered a bar owned by Oswald Cobblepot. It was a spot dedicated as a pub to the community of immigrants from England in Gotham. Cobblepot is far from English, but he loves putting on a Cockney accent when dealing with his henchmen, having gone to boarding school in England and despising the upper crust British accent a lot of Americans thought every English person had. This pub was far more suited to Constantine as a Gotham locale than anywhere else. They served pints of ale, had Premier League soccer on the telly and all the scary guys had shaved heads. Ollie only dreaded coming here at happy hour when Stella Artois was on tap. "What's your poison then, Jason Connery?" Constantine asked him with another annoying Robin Hood jibe. The fact he was referencing obscure English tv shows instead of Hollywood films made Ollie realise he was running out of material. Maybe if he read Ivanhoe his banter would be easier on the ear. "Ooh, English beer. Can't ask for a beer. What is it again? A pint? I'll have a pint of…Smithwicks, thanks."

"Ooh, Irish muck. Not that the Irish haven't got great beer, mind you. I love a Guinness when the mood takes me. Just you had to go for the weak stuff."

"I'm not as fond of getting drunk as you are, obviously."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, mate. You may have been drunk but you've never been thirty pints of Guinness drunk."

"Thirty? Shit, man, you could outdrink Clark."

"You mean Kal-El? I have. And it's not bloody hard. Some Superman he is." A pint of John Smith's and another pint of Smithwicks landed on the bar before Ollie and Constantine. "Cheers," the occultist said before knocking back his pint in one swig, "You nursing that, then?" he asked Ollie with almost genuine curiosity. "Remind me why I've chosen to hang out with you?" Constantine scoffed and went to hand ten dollars to the barman before the latter replied with, "Gentleman over there has paid for you." Constantine rolled his eyes. "Never the good start to a night for me. First, it's 'don't worry about it, mate,' then it's 'I need you to exorcise me grandma for free'. Well, anyway let's see who this fool is?" Ollie had already seen who the man in question was. It was a handsome brown-haired man in a pilot's jacket with a Clark Gable smile. Ollie could never mistake the best of all his friends: Hal Jordan.

"Hal, you son of a bitch!" Ollie shouted as he ran over and hugged his friend with Constantine slowly following as he downed another pint expecting Hal to pay for it as well. "What are you doing here dressed like you've just been on another job for Ferris Air?" the archer asked. Hal laughed. "Got to remain incognito, don't we? You know we were just expecting John Constantine, but hey, Ollie you're a bonus. How've you been?"

"Well, it's been tough. Everything after our little stunt making our own League and Prometheus…It hasn't been easy, Hal. But now Lian's back, maybe things will be different." That was when two men, the younger of which was unmistakably Rip Hunter stormed up to them. The older one of the two spoke first. "What do you mean Lian's back? Back from where?"

"Booster?"

"Yeah, nice to see you too, Ollie, but what do you mean Lian's back?"

"I mean she's back…from the dead, that is."

"Lian Harper died at the age of eighty-eight in bed surrounded by her family after decades of service to the world as the Red Hood."

"She named herself after Jason Todd?"

"Jason Todd? He died when she was only an infant, don't be ridiculous." Hal then looked at Michael. "You're confusing me now too. Lian died nearly a year back and Jason's been back from the grave a couple years. Are you trying to tell me that neither of those things happened for you guys?"

"Definitely. Jason Todd was murdered by the Joker years ago and he never came back. Oliver Queen died in a…oh wait, you're too young to be an aberration. Sorry, no spoilers." That was when Constantine piped in. "Sorry, lads, but since we're talking about time travel my head needs oiling. Can I have another pint?" Ollie turned to him. "That's your sixth in the last ten minutes. None of which you've paid for."

"Good point, meant to ask…Can you sort out me tab as well, like? That would be brilliant, our kid." Michael threw some money on the counter and indicated for five whiskeys on top of that. "We came here looking for John Constantine. Guy like him is useful in a fight with forces beyond most people's ken." Ollie was confused. "Then why do you need Hal? A Green Lantern is hardly someone you just bring to a scrap, he's just another pig." Hal scowled but knew better that his friend was still a good influence on him with his left-wing views at the worst of times. "What I meant by that, Hal, is that you're part of an organisation. Working with the League to defend the Earth doesn't exactly go against the ethos of that organisation. But joining these two on a joyride around time finding aberrations is hardly in your purview protecting this sector of space." Rip raised his hand to draw attention. "We didn't pick Mr Jordan because he was a Green Lantern. We picked him because he's a pilot. We need a good one to get the Waverider going."

"I'd never flown a time machine before, but it's just like a fighter plane. Especially when you're being chased by Green Lanterns and have to take the wheels from Lobo." Ollie reached for his whiskey to have a drink when suddenly he saw it was gone. "John did you have all five of the whiskeys?" Constantine turned around to them from making out with a girl. "What? Oh sorry, mate, I thought they were all for me. You lot carry on. I'll get the next one in." Ollie could be fond of the ladies and the booze at the best of times but he was starting to see Constantine as highly unprofessional. "Are you sure you want a guy like that watching your back out there? Besides, why do you need him? What is this mission through time anyway?"

"We're trying to observe any aberrations to our own history and see are they connected. But we also want a team…a team that can help us stop them. A guy with magic, especially one as amoral as John Constantine, can be useful in that regard no more than Hal serves as a pilot. You can come as well if you want, Ollie."

"I don't know. I mean I've got family here."

"Wait a minute, you said Lian came back from the dead, yes?" Michael interjected over his son. "Uh, yeah, I guess she did." "How?" Michael aggressively asked as his hand rested on Ollie's shoulder. "There was some kind of…preacher. We were in the forest in Star City…and he attacked Alec Holland with this little blue guy…"

"Little blue guy?"

"He means one of my bosses. The Guardians of the Universe."

"Exactly, the real blue fascists."

"But why would a Guardian of the Universe and a preacher attack Swamp Thing?"

"They took the Entity from him."

"The Entity?" Hal felt he had to field this question. "The Entity is to life what Parallax is to fear. A sort of living embodiment of that aspect of reality, given sentience. To impact the world, they need a host. The last host the Entity picked was Swamp Thing. Somehow, these two drained him of that power. And I think I have a feeling I know who the little blue guy in question was."

"Who?"

"Krona. I just had a run in with him not long ago and lost my ring for killing the bastard. He was trying to harness the power of all the other emotions…he couldn't get his hands on the Entity though. He seemed to have an ability to trap them and make them do as he wished. If he's still out there and he's got his hands on the Entity, he's got the power of life and death over everything." Michael waved his hand dismissively. "Krona's a threat we can handle. Ollie, who was this preacher? What did he look like?"

"You're going to laugh at this. He looked exactly like Barry Allen." Michael and Rip laughed. "Well, that's preposterous," Michael guffawed, "Barry Allen's been dead for years, it can't be him." Hal and Ollie looked at one another as if father and son were only born yesterday. "Um, Barry's been back for about a year now." The penny dropped. "By the Goddess!" Michael shouted, "Can none of you super types in this time period just stay in your freaking coffins! Next you'll be telling me Supergirl is…"

"Dad, I could have told you that one."

"Well, isn't this great? We're up to our necks in it here. This is like Night of the Living Dead. Anyway, you still haven't explained what Barry Allen was doing attacking Swamp Thing."

"He wasn't. That man wasn't Barry Allen. He lied and said he was Barry from another universe, but Batman and I were convinced otherwise."

"Batman? Well, he's usually right, isn't he? So, you say this man and Krona brought your granddaughter back?"

"Well, he acted as if he or some other force was responsible. Expected people to thank him. He seemed to have a way of making you feel…safe."

"This gets worse and worse. What did you do with this man?"

"He's on the Watchtower. Constantine and I can't get back there, we're not members. Batman's having Martian Manhunter check him out in the morning."

"You left him on the Watchtower…"

"Yes, we've detained enemies there before."

"Yeah, but you haven't detained someone who can control the living embodiments of the Emotional Spectrum before, have you?"

"Oh no." As Ollie said that the Earth seemed to move and a bright light appeared in the sky as if the Sun had risen at half two in the morning. It was a late bar here tonight and he and Constantine had been looking desperately for it. Still, it was way too early for dawn. Ollie, Constantine, Hal, Rip and Michael all walked outside with several others to see what the light show was. On the surface of the Moon was a gigantic mushroom cloud, that seemed to never extinguish. "What the hell was that?" Ollie asked Rip Hunter. "Your Watchtower. Seems you and Batman made a massive mistake. He's loose now, Ollie. And he's got the JLA files with him while no one else does."

"You mean Eobard Thawne?"

"Of course."

"Then get me in that damn time machine of yours, we've got a universe to save!"

Houses of Congress

It seemed like a long time since Randy Eiling had been anywhere near the Houses of Congress, but the new President, Martin Suarez was looking to appoint him Vice-President in the wake of the recent scandal which had destroyed his VP. No one really understood why Obama had been ousted from the second highest office in the land, but many suspected it was because of something to do with Suarez instead. Randy couldn't say he was certain, but he still wondered why he of all people was being brought to the Houses of Congress to discuss politics at midnight. Entering the Senate floor, he sat down and thought about his father; well he had two. Supposedly the hero called Captain Atom was his biological father but he was raised by and had the surname of his stepfather, Wade Eiling. Neither were exactly someone Randy was proud of. Wade was a xenophobic fool who had turned himself into a hulking beast to battle superhumans. Hardly someone one would be proud to call their father. Still, Wade had instilled something in Randy his father never could. Fear of the superpowers. But Randy was smart like Wade, he knew that sometimes you have to fight fire with fire.

"My sentiments exactly, Mr Eiling," a young man with a scraggly beard said placing his hand on Randy's shoulder. Randy withdrew a gun and aimed it at the man's forehead. "Who the Hell are you?" he shouted at the stranger, who was accompanied by a strange fisherman, "You with Checkmate? Tell Lord we can't be dealing with him anymore." "No, I'm not with Checkmate, Randall Adam, son of Angela Randall. Though Maxwell Lord is an ally I have not ruled out, just yet. My name is Edward Thawne, at least on paper. You'll find all the necessary documentation here." Thawne handed Randy a folder filled to the brim with official documents. A birth certificate from twenty years previous for one Edward Hugo Thawne born to Malcolm Thawne and Janine Gilmore. Then official graduation records from Ivy University, including a recommendation from one Dr Raymond Palmer. "So, you're Edward Thawne, what does that prove?" Randy asked genuinely and with an air of dismissiveness, "That I'm going to arrest someone who exists? Good for you." Thawne waved his hand with an even more dismissive candour. "Read the last document." Randy sifted through the folder to find another official piece of paperwork. This one was similar to the birth certificate except it read how this Edward Thawne was killed in a car crash at six months old with his mother, Janine.

"So, you're committing identity theft?"

"Sort of. I come from the future. My name is Eobard Thawne. Eddie was ostensibly my ancestor. Turns out he died young, and my ancestor is his sister. But that's neither here nor there, the family always spoke of an Eddie Thawne who was a great preacher. I'm merely correcting history, by 'resurrecting' my long-lost uncle. And besides, that is less grave than the fact you got President Suarez's married daughter pregnant, Mr Eiling."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play coy. Anita is willing to take a DNA test if needs be. Now you're going to do everything we say or this goes to the press. I'm a firm believer in your sex life being your own business, but this nation of puritanical hypocrites who consume more pornography behind closed doors every day than even existed a week prior would tear you apart. And I need leverage. Suarez is going to name you his Vice-President tomorrow once Barack Obama resigns. A week from now he will also resign as President. You will become the leader of this country purely because my associates and I want you to be. And you better be damned grateful and do what we say. Or Mr Curry here will send all we have on you to the Daily Planet."

"You goddamn...heh. What do you want me to do?"

"First, we need you to name Sebastian Hady as your Vice-President."

"Hady? The Mayor of Gotham? Are you for fucking real? I can't just name a nobody local politician as my VP! Let alone one as crooked as him."

"And Suarez can't name a young general as his Vice President by principle either. No successful revolution ever occurred without fundamental change."

"The old farts in the House will eat me alive!"

"Maybe, some of them will. But the press will love how you, the young, morally upright new President have developed a concern for America's most dangerous city. Hady will be seen as a sign that you are going to sort out the Gotham problem. Which indeed you are. The vigilantes in that city are far too wilful for our liking. We're going to need you to declare a state of emergency there at some point within the next year. Don't worry about the cassus belli, we'll sort that one out for you. Next, we wish for you to grant further power to Amanda Waller and her Department of Metahuman Affairs. Specifically, for the creation of a new Justice League of America. One funded entirely by the United States government with heroes who will follow your policy unswervingly. Her Task Force X is all well and good for now, but wouldn't it be better to have some of the demigods on the Justice League to serve the country. They will not operate independently and act as a non-partisan force in politics as the JLA have done. This new JLA will also be given authority to kill. Thirdly, you will appoint myself as your personal pastor and give me board and lodgings in the White House. Fourthly, get married. We need to satisfy the puritans I mentioned earlier, and a bachelor president will not sit well with some of the fanatics you'll be courting just by having a personal pastor."

"I…I…fine. I guess I don't have a choice, do I?"

"You don't…because we also have proof of massive financial irregularities concerning your time as one of President Luthor's Chiefs of Staff. So, even if you didn't want to become President and could care less about some affair, we can have you put away for a long time. Now get out of here, Eiling. Tom will escort you back home, won't you, Mr Curry?"

"Of course, Mr Thawne," the gaunt, damp fisherman replied. As the young man and the older man left the Senate building Thawne went to stand on the main podium, looked out silently for a few minutes at the seats before asking "Are you here, my immortals?" Two men then walked down to stand before Thawne as Krona teleported before them. "Eiling is on side then?" "Indeed, Krona," Thawne replied, "he shall serve us well. Have you chosen a bride for him yet, Ra's?" "That is all in hand, Thawne," Ra's muttered from the other end of the hall, "a young woman named Eliza Day. Her parents are sleeper agents for the League and will serve our purpose well. She has begun breaking out as an actress and singer. I have asked her to promote herself as good and pure. It would not surprise everyone to think she might be in a long-term relationship with the likes of Eiling and been largely private about it." Hurt then butted in. "But how of all people is a slob like Hady going to be of any help to us? He's the most corrupt politician my city has seen since the Batman first appeared. We can't trust him. He is not an honourable man by any stretch of the imagination."

"Which is why you will be playing the role of Hady, Dr Hurt. You don't look entirely unlike him, if he lost a ridiculous amount of weight. If they say you look too young, we'll just feed a rumour to the tabloids you've had work done."

"Excellent plan, Thawne. But you still haven't answered one question? We are not the only immortals to walk the Earth. What of Hath-Set or Vandal Savage?" For that statement, Ra's gave a cold look in Hurt's direction. "The former is merely a reincarnated Egyptian priest, hardly an immortal. And Savage lives up to his moniker. Although he acts refined, he is every bit the caveman he was born. Not to mention he lacks resources like the League of Assassins or the Black Glove to aid him."

"But neither of us have full control of those groups anymore."

"Ah, but you forget," Ra's added, malevolently staring into Hurt's eyes as they paced the floor, "I have the Batman's adopted son in my ranks now. He has been devising a plot with me to bring down Leviathan and my daughter's usurpation. Slowly but surely, my men are infiltrating her ranks. As for the Black Glove, it is a cabal of crooked businessmen, is it not? I am sure those who have escaped capture still lurk in the boards of many a multinational corporation, waiting for your orders, Dr Hurt. Thawne needs us for better reason than he might need Vandal Savage anyway. Don't you?"

"Indeed, Ra's. I wish for you both to help me destroy Batman. He has not a hope of stopping me, but he has the means of making things a lot more…difficult for our enterprise."

"Absolutely. As you no doubt realise Hurt, the Detective is a keen intellect. He bested you even when you thought you had killed him. It will take our combined resources to destroy him and his city altogether."

"But why destroy Gotham, Thawne?"

"Because even in my time it is a cancer on the land of the living. I will not tolerate it in my brave new world. A world where life and death are at my command, as are those who live and those who die."