In the vast, echoing chamber of the United Nations, the Justice League entered under a storm of camera flashes, each step amplifying the room's charged tension. The atmosphere buzzed with a blend of awe and unease—a conflicted reverence reserved for beings whose extraordinary powers hovered between those of gods and mortals.
Superman sat with his shoulders squared, his iconic cape draped like a mantle of responsibility. His steady but guarded gaze bore the weight of countless watchful eyes. Beside him, Wonder Woman exuded regal strength, her calm yet resolute expression framed by her golden tiara. Meanwhile, Batman's shadowed presence seemed to absorb the light around him, his inscrutable demeanor a fortress against the probing stares of the assembly. Together, they were icons, yet their reception was far from universally welcoming.
The chairman of the Security Council—a silver-haired diplomat whose face bore the lines of hard-earned wisdom—leaned forward, his voice cutting through the charged silence.
"We are gathered today to address the recent alien assault on our world. While, thankfully, it resulted in no civilian casualties, the invasion caused untold economic havoc and shattered national borders across multiple continents." His gaze hardened as it swept across the Justice League. "The question, then, is this: Did your actions—or your very presence—invite this attack? Are you protectors, or are you the reason Earth is under siege?"
Superman's voice was calm but firm, each word resonating with conviction. "With respect, our actions were to defend Earth. We prevent loss, not invite it."
A murmur rippled through the assembly before a European delegate, known for her fierce defense of national sovereignty, interjected coldly. "And yet, cities lie in ruins after every battle. How can you be certain your intentions align with what's best for us? How do we know this isn't about serving your own interests?"
Wonder Woman's fingers brushed the table, her voice steady and unflinching. "Our duty is unambiguous: to protect the innocent. We act not for recognition but because it is necessary. However, we have never sought to undermine the sovereignty of nations."
Batman's voice sliced through the rising tension, low and sharp. "Whenever your governments ask for aid—for resources, for intelligence—we cooperate. We always have." His piercing gaze swept the room, meeting each challenge head-on.
The hall grew louder, voices overlapping as delegates exchanged heated words. Some rose from their seats, gesturing with pointed accusations or whispered counsel.
The chairman brought his gavel down sharply. "Order!" His tone was resolute, though faint traces of unease cracked its surface. "You speak of cooperation, yet you shield us from the truth. You leave us with unanswered questions—"
"We aren't operating in secrecy—" Superman began, his voice unwavering.
"Secrecy is all we're left with!" a South American delegate interrupted, his voice sharp with frustration. "The Red Lanterns—why were they here? Who led them? What exactly did he want with us?"
The League exchanged brief, knowing glances. In the silence that followed, Wonder Woman leaned forward, her words deliberate and weighty. "The Red Lantern leading this assault was a being from another universe. He tore through the fabric of reality itself to reach us. His purpose was vengeance—vengeance for atrocities committed in his world by two beings who sought refuge here. What he did not understand was that those two were not in control when those crimes occurred."
The revelation hung in the air like a heavy cloud, the delegates digesting its implications. The Justice League, once untouchable icons, now stood before a global tribunal, subjected to scrutiny that cut deeper than any battle wound. It was a pivotal moment—a clash of trust and accountability transcending borders.
The chairman's voice, softer now but laced with apprehension, broke the silence. "And who, precisely, are these beings?"
Wonder Woman's gaze never wavered. "You know them as 17 and 18. Upon arriving on Earth, they regained control of their will. The Justice League will provide a full report, available to the public, in the coming days. We understand the world demands answers, and we will provide them. For now, we ask for your trust that we do not act selfishly."
Before the next question could be asked, the grand double doors at the back of the hall swung open with an echoing creak. Heads turned as a new figure entered—a man whose polished, tailored suit and gleaming bald head made him instantly recognizable. Lex Luthor. He strode forward with calculated precision, each step resonating like a prelude to confrontation. Recognition rippled through the delegates, unease following in his wake.
Superman's eyes narrowed, his posture tensing. Wonder Woman's sharp gaze tracked Luthor's approach, her instincts bracing for what was to come. Batman's jaw tightened as he observed the man whose every move carried the weight of ulterior motives.
"Esteemed delegates, honorable chairman," Luthor began, his voice a masterstroke of humility and authority. "Forgive the intrusion, but I believe my perspective could illuminate some… critical alternatives."
The chairman leaned back, his expression a mixture of wariness and resignation. "Mr. Luthor, your reputation precedes you. You have no right to barge into this assembly, and yet here you stand. Speak your piece."
Luthor's lips curled into a smile as he stepped onto the podium. "Thank you. While the Justice League's efforts may be noble, we cannot ignore the consequences they bring. Their unregulated actions, their alien alliances—no one disputes their power, but we must question whether it truly serves the people's best interests."
The murmur of agreement that followed emboldened him. "We need accountability. A system where those acting on behalf of Earth do so with oversight, not unchecked autonomy." His gaze lingered on Superman, the glint in his eyes a calculated challenge. "In short, the era of unsanctioned heroes must end."
The debate spiraled into chaos, but the moment came to a head when Luthor's pointed question cut through: "What exactly did 17 and 18 do?"
Superman's answer, a single word heavy with grief, silenced the room. "Murder."
"That doesn't sound quite right," Luthor pressed. "How many lives, Superman?"
Superman exhaled, the weight of the universe in his voice. He hesitated. "Billions."
The room exploded. Delegates shot to their feet, shouting accusations and questions, while others stood frozen, pale and silent. The air filled with panicked whispers, raised voices, and the frantic clicks of camera shutters. Security personnel moved swiftly, trying to restore order as a wave of mistrust and fear surged through the hall. Superman's admission had shattered the fragile line between protector and liability, leaving the League at the mercy of a storm that would not easily pass.
The crimson skies of Svelte burned with an oppressive glow, casting jagged shadows across the twisted landscape. Rivers of molten lava coursed through the planet's surface like veins, and the air thrummed with an unrelenting fury that seemed to vibrate through every fiber of existence. On a jagged plateau overlooking the chaos, Gohan stood firm.
His red energy suit, now molded into a gi, mirrored his master Piccolo's in every way except for its striking red-and-black hues. His focus was razor-sharp, the pulsing red glow of his ring syncing with the simmering anger within him.
Ahead, Supergirl hovered uneasily on a peak of her own, her flickering Red Lantern aura crackling like unstable fire. Her golden hair whipped violently in the stormy winds, and her eyes burned with a fury that felt alien even to her. She wore the same gi as Gohan, though its significance to him was lost on her.
"Focus," Gohan said, his voice cutting through the storm of rage, calm and steady. "The ring feeds on your anger, but it doesn't control you. You control it."
Kara clenched her fists, molten energy swirling at her fingertips. "That's easy for you to say," she growled, her voice metallic and raw. "You've been doing this longer. I—" She faltered, her tone caught between anger and despair. "I can't stop feeling it, Gohan. The rage—it's always there."
Gohan's gaze softened, though his voice stayed firm. "Neither can I, Kara. But rage is fuel—it's not your master. You're more than the anger. Now show me."
Without another word, Gohan launched forward, his fist cloaked in fiery red energy. Kara barely raised her arms in time before the impact sent her spiraling backward, crashing into the jagged ground with an explosion of dust and fire. She shot to her feet, her lips curling into a snarl as her red aura flared.
"Fine!" Kara roared, her hands igniting with blazing constructs—fiery gauntlets gleaming like molten metal. She charged, her movements wild and fierce, the air cracking with each strike.
Gohan sidestepped her first punch and caught the second with a glowing red shield construct. "Good start," he said calmly, deflecting the blow and twisting to sweep her legs out from under her. "But you're letting the rage guide you. You're reacting, not thinking."
Kara hit the ground hard but rebounded instantly, twisting into a ferocious mid-air kick aimed at Gohan's head. He caught her ankle mid-strike, flipping her over and slamming her into the ground again. The plateau shook with the impact, cracks spidering across its surface.
"You think too much!" Kara shouted, her aura flaring violently. She slammed her fists into the ground, and jagged crimson spikes erupted, shooting toward Gohan. He leapt into the air, dodging the onslaught with fluid precision.
"You're not wrong," Gohan admitted, hovering above her. "But balance is key. Think enough to control the rage, but don't lose the fire that drives it." He extended his hand, conjuring a massive red blade, its edge gleaming ominously. "Now, again!"
Kara screamed, her aura surging as she launched herself skyward. Their clash became a storm of red light and fury, every blow reverberating like a thunderclap. Gohan's blade met Kara's shield in an explosion of sparks as they wove through the air in a deadly dance. Kara's strikes were raw and unrefined, while Gohan's movements flowed like water, each construct an extension of his will.
"You have power and speed," Gohan said, deflecting another wild strike and sending her hurtling back. "But you lack control!"
Kara roared in frustration, her aura condensing. She shaped her rage into a massive, intricate construct—a crimson dragon with blazing eyes and razor-sharp fangs. It lunged at Gohan with terrifying speed.
Gohan smirked, his ring flaring. "That's it! Use your rage—shape it, control it!" His energy shifted into a brilliant blue orb, the words of his father echoing in his mind. "Ka… me…"
The construct collided with the beam mid-air, the shockwave shaking the ground below.
The battle raged on for nearly an hour. As Kara's confidence grew, her constructs became more intricate, her attacks more precise. She conjured a flurry of jagged crimson daggers, sending them streaking toward Gohan. He raised a shimmering dome of energy to deflect them, dissolving it into a massive hammer to counter her next move.
Their duel intensified until Gohan finally slowed. His constructs shifted, becoming smaller and more intricate—a delicate rook that hovered beside him. Kara noticed the change, her light forming into a crimson bishop in response.
"A chess match?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Why not?" Gohan replied with a smirk. "Control and strategy, remember? Let's see how you do."
Kara conjured a glowing chessboard between them, its squares pulsating with energy. Her pieces were sharp and aggressive, while Gohan's exuded calm authority. The game began, each move deliberate yet charged with unspoken tension.
"You know," Kara said as she advanced a pawn, "back on Ysmault, I swore I'd kill you."
Gohan hesitated before moving his knight. "Not sure how to respond to that…"
"But I changed my mind," Kara said, her voice softening. She smiled, moving another pawn forward. "You're a good teacher."
"Thanks," Gohan replied, his lips quirking into a grin. "I appreciate not being on your hit list."
"Oh, no problem," Kara said with a playful smirk. "Instead, I'll just beat the crap out of you."
The sun began to set as they played three games, the sharp tension between them softening into a quiet camaraderie. Their journey continued to Odym, stopping at planets along the way to train. In the three weeks they traveled together, they battled nearly a hundred times, their bond forged in the fires of combat and understanding.
The soft hum of the television filled the room, punctuated by flickering images too devastating to bear. On the screen, chaos unfolded: an oil rig in the North Atlantic had exploded, flames clawing at the dark sky as if trying to rip it apart. Helicopters hovered uselessly above the inferno, their lights impotent against towering waves that threatened to swallow the wreckage. Survivors clung to debris, their faces pale and slick with seawater and terror.
It had been a week since the United Nations enacted a groundbreaking law barring the Justice League and other superpowered organizations from intervening in global crises without explicit approval from the UN Security Council. This decision had sparked fiery debates among politicians and scholars, who wrestled with questions of jurisdiction: what authority did one world have to prosecute crimes or enforce rules across dimensions? Amid this turmoil, a compromise had been reached—Androids 17 and 18 would remain out of the public eye until the legal and ethical implications of their existence were sorted.
18 sat rigidly on the edge of her couch, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles gleamed white. Her entire body thrummed with restrained power, each heartbeat echoing with a singular truth: she could help. She should help.
Every fiber of her being screamed at her to act. She could be there in seconds, her flight slicing through the icy air. She could calm the storm, extinguish the flames, lift the wreckage. People would live because of her. Families would remain whole tonight.
But she stayed seated.
The screen shifted to a grim-faced anchor, his voice heavy with somber authority. "Authorities confirm emergency services are en route, but worsening weather conditions make the rescue perilous. At least 60 workers remain unaccounted for."
Sixty lives. Sixty souls on the brink, and she was doing nothing.
18 closed her eyes, her nails biting into her palms. Her memories surged—days when her heroism had been overshadowed by fear and politics. She recalled the uproar after she had saved a city from a catastrophic flood, only to be met with condemnation. Governments had labeled her a rogue force, a threat. The letter from the Global Coalition had made it clear: Your involvement in any crisis without prior authorization will be deemed an act of aggression.
Her teeth sank into her cheek until she tasted blood. They had no idea what it felt like to watch disasters unfold, knowing she had the power to act but was shackled by bureaucracy.
The screen showed a lifeboat capsizing under a rogue wave, the desperate cries of the victims barely audible over the storm. 18's heart pounded, her muscles tensing as though preparing to leap.
She stood suddenly, the decision made before her mind could fully process it. A burst of energy surged through her, shattering the glass window in front of her. The cold wind rushed in, tangling her hair and filling the room with the scent of rain and salt.
Without hesitation, she launched herself into the night.
The storm's fury greeted her with relentless force. Wind and rain lashed against her, but she flew faster, her aura blazing a golden trail across the sky. She broke through the clouds, weaving around lightning strikes with ease, her focus unyielding.
The oil rig loomed ahead, a hellish silhouette of fire and water waging war. Helicopters circled like frantic birds, their searchlights revealing glimpses of wreckage and survivors clinging desperately to debris.
18 descended swiftly, her energy surging as she extended her hands toward the flames. A pulse of ki erupted from her palms, colliding with the fire in a deafening hiss. Steam billowed upward, shrouding the scene in a thick, oppressive mist.
She darted between the wreckage, her eyes scanning for movement. Spotting a group of workers trapped beneath a collapsed beam, she swooped down. Her hands glowed as she lifted the beam effortlessly, revealing the huddled survivors beneath. Their faces were etched with terror and awe as she reached out to them.
"Grab on," she urged, her voice steady despite the chaos.
They hesitated, but a towering wave cut their decision short. Just as the water surged toward them, 18 raised her free hand, releasing a barrier of ki that split the wave around them.
The survivors scrambled onto nearby rescue boats, their grateful cries barely audible over the storm.
Before 18 could move to the next cluster of debris, the air around her roared. A Boom Tube materialized beside her, its vortex of light and sound tearing through the storm's cacophony.
From its heart emerged Starfire, her glowing green eyes burning with resolve as she soared forward. Raven followed, her dark energy swirling protectively around her. Donna Troy stepped through last, her armor gleaming despite the rain, her lasso coiled at her hip.
18 frowned, her eyes narrowing. "You shouldn't be here," she snapped, her voice cutting through the storm.
Starfire hovered beside her, her expression calm but resolute. "Neither should you. But lives are at stake. We cannot stand by."
Without waiting for a response, Starfire unleashed a volley of starbolts, clearing smaller debris blocking survivors. Raven's shadows reached into the depths, gently lifting unconscious workers from the icy water and carrying them to safety. Donna landed beside 18, gripping the opposite side of a massive girder.
"On three," Donna said firmly.
18 hesitated, then nodded. Together, they heaved the girder away, revealing another cluster of trapped workers.
"You really shouldn't be here," 18 muttered again, though her actions betrayed her relief.
"You're welcome," Donna shot back, flashing a brief smile.
The storm raged on, but together, they worked in harmony. Starfire's energy cleared paths, Donna's strength stabilized unstable wreckage, and Raven's powers shielded survivors from the storm's wrath.
As the last of the workers were accounted for, the Titans regrouped with 18 on the shoreline. The storm had begun to wane, its fury exhausted.
"What now?" 18 asked, her worry evident.
"We deal with the fallout," Donna replied firmly. "You need to leave. Head to the Tower. If they're coming for us, we'll face it together."
18 hesitated, her gaze shifting between the Titans and the horizon. With a curt nod, she launched into the air, her silhouette disappearing into the dark sky, leaving only the distant glow of her aura behind.
The storm still churned, though its ferocity had been subdued. 18 flew just above the darkened clouds, the cold wind tearing past her as the faint glow of the city on the horizon came into view. Her mind was a storm of its own, a chaotic blend of triumph and dread. She had done it—she had saved them. Yet the cost of her defiance loomed heavy, the stern voice from the helicopter still ringing in her ears: "You are in violation of international law."
Her golden aura dimmed as she slowed, beginning to calm down. Rain beaded against her skin as she drifted lower, just above the rolling ocean. She glanced back over her shoulder, scanning the skies for pursuit. Nothing. Maybe, just maybe, the bureaucrats would decide tonight wasn't worth the fight.
Then she felt it.
A shift in the air.
Before she could react, something hit her like a freight train, slamming her out of the sky. She spiraled downward, breaking through the clouds in a blur of rain and wind. At the last second, she righted herself, halting inches above the roiling waves. Her breath came hard and fast as she whipped around, her senses on high alert.
It hovered in the air with unsettling precision—a sleek, humanoid figure gleaming like polished steel. Crimson lights pulsed across its torso, and its glowing red eyes locked onto her with mechanical focus.
"Designation: 18," it droned, its voice devoid of life. "You are under arrest for unauthorized intervention in a restricted disaster zone. Cease resistance and surrender immediately."
Rain dripped down her face as she stared at it, disbelief giving way to fury. "You're kidding me," she muttered. Golden energy crackled to life in her palms, her aura flaring brighter. "After everything I just did?"
The android responded by darting forward with inhuman speed, its fist arcing toward her face. She barely dodged, twisting in midair to counter with a concussive blast to its chest. The impact sent the android hurtling back, but it righted itself instantly, its movements eerily efficient.
18 gritted her teeth, surging forward to meet it. Their clash lit up the stormy night, her golden energy slamming against its cold, unyielding frame. She weaved through its attacks, landing a focused beam of ki that blasted the android into the ocean below.
For a brief moment, the waves swallowed it, and she exhaled sharply, relief washing over her.
Then the water exploded.
Not one, but two more androids rose from the depths, their crimson eyes slicing through the darkness. They hovered beside the first, perfectly synchronized, their every movement calculated.
18's heart sank as adrenaline surged anew. "Oh, come on."
"Designation: 18," one of them intoned. "You remain in violation of international law. Surrender now, or force will be escalated."
She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and humorless. "This isn't escalated?" Without waiting for a response, she shot into the stormy sky, hoping to lose them in the clouds.
They followed effortlessly.
A beam of red energy cut through the air, missing her by inches as she twisted into a corkscrew maneuver. One android closed the distance, grabbing her arm in a grip so crushing she cried out. Her aura flared violently, and with a shout, she blasted it off of her, sending it spiraling downward.
But the others pressed their attack.
One fired another beam, grazing her shoulder and searing her jacket. The other lunged, its steel fist catching her across the ribs. Pain lanced through her, but she retaliated with a barrage of golden strikes, the force lighting up the night. One android crumpled under the onslaught, its body plunging lifelessly into the sea below.
Yet the remaining two were unrelenting, their blows faster, harder, more precise as her strength waned. Her breathing grew ragged, her energy flickering.
Finally, one android seized her by the shoulders, its vice-like grip pinning her arms. The other hovered inches away, its crimson eyes unblinking as it raised a glowing hand.
"Enough!" 18 roared, struggling against its hold as her aura flared wildly. She glared at them, sweat and rain streaming down her face. "How the hell are you doing this?"
Her energy flared again, but the androids didn't falter.
The one holding her tightened its grip further, and the other spoke, its voice cold and unwavering. "Designation: 18, you are under arrest for unauthorized intervention in a restricted disaster zone. You will be detained and transported to a secure facility for processing. Resistance is futile."
Her chest heaved, exhaustion bleeding into her frustration. She spat through clenched teeth, "I saved lives. Lives. And you're arresting me for that?"
The android didn't answer. It raised its hand, releasing a pulse of red light that swept over her like a tidal wave.
18's vision blurred. Her limbs grew heavy, her aura flickering to nothing as the pulse drained the last of her strength.
"No…" she whispered, her voice faint and trembling. Darkness crept at the edges of her sight, the android's words ringing hollowly in her ears.
"Your actions destabilized authorized operations. You will be held accountable."
The storm raged on, but 18's world went black.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the cold glow of dozens of monitors displaying a storm-ravaged ocean. Each screen showed a different angle of the battle: 18's desperate struggle against the relentless androids, the violent clash of her golden energy against their crimson pulses, and the final, gut-wrenching moment of her capture. The storm outside raged on, but here, in the sterile stillness of the command center, triumph reigned.
A figure stood in the shadows, his posture calm yet commanding, exuding an almost magnetic presence. He reached forward, his well-manicured fingers tapping a button on the console. The monitors replayed the fight in agonizing slow motion, capturing every strike, every burst of 18's power, every calculated, methodical move of the androids.
"Well?" The voice broke the silence, deep and smooth, laced with authority that demanded obedience.
Beside him, a man in a white lab coat adjusted his glasses, the blue glow of the monitors reflecting off their polished lenses. Dr. Anthony Ivo, the architect of the Amazo program, leaned in closer, his eyes scanning the footage with clinical detachment.
"Performance metrics are exceptional," Ivo said, his tone brisk and efficient. "The Amazo units neutralized her with 93.6% efficiency. Her energy output exceeded projections by 27%, but the androids adapted flawlessly. They learned her attack patterns within 4.6 seconds, compensating with escalating force."
The shadowed man—Lex Luthor—allowed himself a small, deliberate smile, a predator savoring a successful hunt. He stepped into the light, his sharp, chiseled features emerging from the darkness. His bald head gleamed under the faint illumination, but it was his piercing green eyes that commanded attention, their cold intensity fixed on the monitors.
"18 no," he said, drawing out the name like a connoisseur savoring a rare delicacy. "A being of immense power. Power that terrifies governments. Power that disrupts balance. And yet…" His smile widened, sharp and calculating. "…brought to her knees by my technology."
Dr. Ivo smirked, his own satisfaction evident as he adjusted his lab coat. "It's a promising start," he said. "The Amazo units are proving even more effective than I anticipated. Their ability to replicate and counteract metahuman abilities in real-time makes them—well, for lack of a better word—unstoppable."
"Unstoppable?" Luthor's voice held a note of restrained amusement. "Doctor, tonight was merely the opening act." He clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the monitors. "This wasn't just a test of the Amazos' capabilities. It was a statement. To the governments who cower before metahumans. To the so-called heroes who believe themselves untouchable. To anyone foolish enough to doubt that humanity can—and will—reclaim control."
Ivo hesitated, his confidence flickering for a brief moment. "What about no?" he asked. "She's not just another rogue meta. The world will notice her disappearance."
Luthor turned to him, his expression sharp, cutting through the scientist's uncertainty like a blade. "Let them notice," he said, his voice steely. "By the time they piece it together, it will be far too late. 18 is more than a fugitive; she's a resource. A rare, invaluable resource."
He stepped closer to the largest monitor, where a frozen image of 18 mid-battle filled the screen—her defiant expression, her golden energy flaring against the encroaching storm.
"We'll extract everything," Luthor continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Her power, her instincts, her resilience. All of it cataloged, dissected, and replicated. When we're finished, humanity won't need metahumans. We'll have something better. Something controllable."
Dr. Ivo's smirk returned, his excitement palpable. "And if she resists?"
Luthor chuckled, a low, predatory sound that reverberated through the room. "Oh, Doctor," he said, his smile devoid of warmth. "Resistance is inevitable. And irrelevant. The Amazos proved that tonight."
He turned back to the console, tapping another button. A new set of data filled the screens: power output graphs, combat algorithms, and detailed analyses of 18's abilities.
"Tonight, we sent a message," Luthor said, his voice gaining momentum. "To the metahumans who flaunt their power, to the governments too weak to control them. Let them fear their so-called saviors. Soon, they'll realize that salvation doesn't wear a cape."
The monitors flickered again, this time showing the Amazos loading 18's unconscious form into a heavily armored transport. She was limp, her golden glow extinguished, as the transport vanished into the stormy night.
"Begin phase two," Luthor commanded, already turning toward the exit. "I want her analyzed, deconstructed, and contained before she wakes up. No mistakes."
Dr. Ivo's fingers danced over the console, his voice alight with anticipation. "Phase two is already underway."
As Luthor disappeared into the shadows, his presence lingering like an unshakable weight, a single word flashed across the monitors—a name, a promise, a threat:
Amazo 3.
Hey Guys. Hope you're all well. As always, I'm happy to hear any feedback that you guys might have, especially if it's technical.
Also, the intention was alway to pivot from a Gohan centered story to an Android's 17 and 18 centered story, then to bring them all together. So you'll see Gohan take a back seat as I try and explore the Androids story.
Also, if you guys have any advice on fleshing out characters and their relationships, I'd appreciate it. I'd say I'm okay at writing an action scene, but dialogue is not my strength.
Also, do any of you guys have suggestions for stories that I could read by fanfic authors that are good? If you do, let me know. I'm keen to read some. Anything Marvel, DC, DBZ...
Anyway, keep well.