The young girl swayed back and forth as she danced in a solitary celebration of her own little world; shut out from the world by the ear bud headphones that connected her to the iPod in her strap pocket of the lime green courier bag she toted diagonally across her body in place of a purse. She didn't really do purses yet. They were too small to carry all her stuff and too easy to set down and forget about. Humming to herself, blond pigtails swung freely about her shoulders as the child bobbed her head in time to the beat of Joan Osborne asking the question of what if God was one of us? The fingers of a small hand tapping against the metal railing she held to as she rode the train into New York.

Her mother had been a little freaked out at the notion of her baby riding the train by herself, but Katie had been adamant. After all, she wasn't little anymore. What her mother didn't know was that Katie had traveled the galaxy and even across dimensions by herself. It made sense, to her, at least, that if Energizer could manage to go from Earth to Kymellia okay... the trip to New York City shouldn't be hard at all.

Still, Katie would have to admit that she was a little scared. She'd faced the Snarks, the demon Boogeyman, and even drug gangs... and it was still a little intimidating to be eight years old and riding the train on her own. It was odd not to have Alex and Julie around, though Katie welcomed the opportunity to put some distance between herself and Jack. She hoped that Carter was happy about her coming to his school, because Katie couldn't have been happier with the idea of doing more than hiding her power and trying to practice in secret. To learn control, real control, and to live openly as both Katie and Energizer... It was a dream.

Shuffling about, the girl raised her sky blue eyes at last to look around the interior of the car she was in; realizing only now how empty the train was. A fact which only compounded the loneliness she felt at walking out on her own, even if just temporarily. Maybe... maybe she didn't need to be in such a hurry to be like her big sister Julie after all, the child thought to herself. Her brooding interrupted as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass windows of the train car. Standing there in pink corduroy pants with a white hoodie that had pink trim and a image of Minnie Mouse embroidered on the chest. The sight brought a carefree smile to her face. She thought she looked cute.

As the train lumbered its way to a shuddering halt beside the platform underneath New York City, Katie let go of the metal rail and made her way to the doors. As they popped open, she peeked her head out to glance back along the tracks. Adjusting the way her bag hung on her body, the young heroine clung tightly to her sweatshirt as she stepped out onto the platform proper, her eyes scanning upward among the crowd for any sign of the Ghazikhanians. As she walked, Katie's hand dipped into her pants pocket for a piece of gum. Unwrapping the watermelon-flavored candy, the girl popped the chewy confectionary into her mouth. Returning her hand to her pocket, the youth went through the motions of tucking her trash away there; though a faint hue of golden light reflected the candy wrappers demise, disintegrated at the fingertips of the child as she absorbed the energy from its broken atomic bonds. Cracking a bubble, Katie kept her eyes forward as she strode into New York City. Just an eight year old girl alone.

An eight year old who'd saved the Earth. A few times. Not that she was keeping count. They didn't award ponies for saving the planet after all. It'd be nice if they did though, the small girl throught to herself with a private little smile as she skipped across the platform and started up the steps to the station proper, her eyes still looking for any sign of her brother when she caught sight of an elderly woman gingerly creeping up to the steps. The matriachial, grandmotherly figure was obviously impaired by some form of arthritis in her stalted, fragile gait. Pigtails bouncing, Katie hoped back down the steps to drop beside the stranger. "Do you need some help, ma'am?" the child asked sweetly.

The wisened, gray-haired woman seemed startled; as much by the gesture as being addressed so politely by a stranger in New York. "Aren't you a dear. Would it be a bother?" the matronly figure begged in reply, extending an arm even as the old woman leaned against the wall of the stairwell to help balance herself as she began ascending the steps.

"No, ma'am," Katie answered simply, gingerly taking the woman's arm and helping guide her along the steps to the top of the terminal platform, where she finally let go as the woman seemed to get her bearings. "'Kay?"

"I'm fine, child. Your parents raised you right. And I thank you," the stranger stated with a wearied smile, as the woman glanced up as though expecting to see someone there waiting for the girl. "Are you by yourself, dear?"

"I'm meetin' my friend here, ma'am," Katie offering, skipping a step back as she gave a large wave farewell to the woman. "Bye!" the child stated cheerfully, dashing off across the terminal. As she did, Katie swung the courier tote around to pull out the small, frog-shaped cellphone she carried. It didn't have all the functionality of a regular cellphone. Hers only allowed her to contact numbers pre-programmed into the phone, such as that of her Carter or his mom. Tapping away with her thumb, the girl dialed out a quick text asking him where he was.

| A S G A R D |

"She wants Valhalla."

The young god looked over at the magpie, as though annoyed with so simple of an answer. "Of course she wants Valhalla. It is the one realm of the dead she does not control," the boy-king noted aloud, the realization of his own voice causing him to look around for signs of anyone overhearing their conversation. In a whisper, Loki leaned closer to the magpie and said, "But that was decided at the start of this new story."

"Decided, yes," the magpie intoned evenly, cocking its head to one side as it stared back at the boy with its expressionless, black eyes. "By Odin. And Odin no longer reigns in Asgard."

The young god began pacing, walking a path back and forth in front of where the bird was perched on the base of a marble column. "So she is coming to re-negotiate the terms of that agreement," the boy ventured aloud, trying to sound confident even as he looked over at the magpie for some sign of reassurance.

Perhaps he had forgotten to whom he had been speaking.

"No," Ikol stated flatly, bringing the boy to an abrupt stop for the finality and firmness of that single word answer. "There will be no negotiations."

"What is it you're not telling me?" Loki demanded in a harsh whisper.

The bird feathers ruffled slightly. Ikol didn't like being spoken to as though he were being commanded. But then, Loki could appreciate that fact. It was, after all, true for him as well. "Hela is coming here to deliver an ultimatum. She already knows what she wants. She knows that we know what she wants. The rest are pleasantries and she will have none of that," the magpie explained patiently.

With a shake of his head, the young god began pacing once again. "The Aesir abide by a code of..."

"You are not an Aesir," Ikol interjected, interrupting the king. "Neither is Hela."

Again, the young boy paused and turned his head down toward the mysterious magpie. "How is it that you are so certain of this?"

"Hela..." Ikol began, hesitating slightly as Loki's eyes narrowed. He knew that pause. Was Ikol polishing a lie or deciding to tell the truth? Or even, which truth to tell? Increasingly, the god of chaos was finding dealing with himself to be quite annoying. "...is my daughter."

"How is that possible?" Loki blurted aloud, again catching himself and looking about for any who might have overheard him, before continuing in a low voice. "Ragnorak..."

"Should have caused her re-creation. It didn't," Ikol stated flatly, with no apologies or explanations. Of course, Ikol had to have some understanding of how one could survive Ragnorak. After all, he was the previous Loki. Or, a prior Loki even if not the actual predecessor to the current. "I know only that, at some point, Odin put Hela over the lands of the dead. All but Valhalla. And she will not stop until she possess it."

There was an implication hanging on that last statement, one which caused Loki to turn away as he began, "If what you say is true..."

"Make way for the All-Mother!"

A rather colorful curse left the young god's lips, waving the magpie off into the rafters as the youthful king of Asgard smoothly the front of his clothes and prepared to meet his adoptive mother. Frigga was as he had last seen her. Calm, controlled, and in control. The way she walked into a room at once left no question who was in command here. Loki sat upon the throne, but that was merely a chair. Frigga was the queen of Asgard. Until Frigga said otherwise. "Mother," the boy greeted the matriarch politely, feigning a smile as he bowed his head toward her.

"I am told that Hela journeys upon the Bifrost toward Asgard," the All Mother commented.

Straightening up, the boy put forth his best ambassadorial disposition. "We are honored by her presence. I have ordered a feast be readied..."

"Then perhaps I am not too late."

That comment caught the silver-tongued Loki quite unexpectedly. For a moment, he was uncertain what to say, collecting himself and finally asking the obvious. "Too late for what, Mother?"

"The Disir are massing outside of Hel," Frigga stated, turning back slightly and gesturing with a beckoning motion that summarily brought Heimdall to the queen's right hand.

"I see an army preparing to depart Nifelheim," the all-seeing observer intoned dryly. "Twelve legions of the undead."

"She plans to take Valhalla by force," Loki blurted aloud, as the pieces of this situation at last all fell into place.

"Leave us," Frigga commanded Heimdall. The watched bowed to the queen, then again toward Loki as he backed out of the room. Waiting for the all-seeing eye to depart, the queen at last turned back toward Loki and offered her advice. "Hela wants us all dead."

"Because then she'd have dominion over all of us," Loki uttered, thinking aloud as his mind began working through how to react, how to manipulate, or deceive Hela in some way. But nothing came to mind. War then? War between the realms? "Damn her," the child uttered softly then. "Damn us all," Loki repeated, before turning back toward his mother. "We will summon the Warriors Three at once. We will call upon our ally, Beta Ray Bill. And we will have Thor returned to Asgard immediat..."

"That will not be enough." The All-Mother's words stung for how firmly they had been offered, as though she were quite confident that Loki were incompetent and incapable of leading Asgard through this newfound disaster. "We will require allegiances if we are to survive this attack," Frigga stated.

Again, the young god was struck speechless. When he'd finally untangled his own liar's tongue, the boy asked, "Mother, what have you done?"

The look which Frigga now offered her so-called child made it clear that she did not appreciate the manner of questioning. "I have made contact with the other pantheons."

As he had feared. The boy's face blanched as he said words which she had first taught him. "The treaties of non-interference..."

"...will not save Asgard, Loki," Frigga snapped as though growing impatient with a petulant child, which was not at all far from truth. "Zeus has answered our call for aid. You are to be betrothed to a goddess of Olympus."

"Betrothed?"

Even as he spat her own word back at her, Loki's mouth was agape as he wore his feelings plainly upon his face as never he had done before. As shock gave way to confusion, anger at last found a weapon in the tongue which had, thus far, been far too submissive. Scowling at the All-Mother, the young king cocked his head back and uttered a loud, "I believe the word you meant to offer is betrayed, Mother."

The thunder of the god Thor did not resonate as sharply as the crack which accompanied Frigga's hand as she openly slapped the boy across the face. Tears sprang into the corners of his eyes - alight now with baleful hellfire - but he refused to shed them. Gritting his teeth, he felt his head jerked aside by the force of impact, as seconds ticked by before the white hot sting began to bite at the nerves in his face. But the look of defiance never faltered. And that stung Frigga more deeply than anything she could do to Loki.

Drawing in a deep breath, Frigga took a moment to collect herself. "You are an Odinson. You are king of all Asgard," the All-Mother announced, talking down to her child as a teacher might an errant pupil. "Did you really believe you could fall in love with a mere handmaid?"

So it was Leah, then. Straightening, his shoulders bowed up in aggression, the new king of Asgard took his first offensive against the former administration. "The sons of Odin have fled the throne," the boy tossed back at the woman flippantly, his tongue striking upon what was truly at issue between them. And hoping to break open old wounds. "Did you really believe you could put a frost giant on the throne of Asgard?"

CRACK

As his head snapped to one side, the young god tasted his own blood. He could already feel the hand print beginning to appear on his face, a red palm visible against the fair skin of the Aesir.

"Who has told you this?"

He'd lost his fight to restrain his tears, but the hate in his eyes was now unfettered as he straightening back up. In response, the boy gave a snort and then spit a mixture of blood and mucus at Frigga's feet. The two stared at one another for a long moment, before the queen turned her back to him and proceeded to walk away.

"I should expect you at dinner," the young god stated, making clear that it was a command. Without looking back at him, the command was enough to cause her to stop. "Your presence would be missed at the feast," the boy provided in explanation.

And then she merely walked on, leaving him with the rapidly dawning realization that he was far less a king and far more the pawn.

Dutch Hill, Gotham City
6:52 PM

"Those pulses you're seeing are coming from an unseen projector. A holographic display is somewhere in that room, broadcasting an illusion. The pulses are shifts in the light of the hologram, compensating for things like shadow, depth perception, and ambient light. Se looks natural at full speed, but under scrutiny it comes up short. The man with his head on fire is also a hologram too. The projector has to be somewhere in the room, but it's outside the range of the camera."

I squinted at the footage from the security equipment. Bruce is absolutely right. Me, my dad, and the entire GCPD have been going at this all wrong. The question isn't how did she did she disappear, it's when did she show up in the first place. If I can figure that out, then we should be able to calculate when his next appearance should be based upon how he sets things up. Also, if I can find the projector, I may be able to trace it to its owner.

"Bruce," I began, "is it possible that you can identify the location and time of the illusion's premier?"

I scratched my scalp as I awaited an answer from my senior partner. All the while my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't help but wonder if I should directly assist my father in any way. With the help of the GCPD, they may be able to snuff out the projector. But, even if they do, they'll only prevent the mysterious marauder from using that spot or projector.

"Let's see what we get from a different angle."

I brought up the other security camera feeds in the museum. Using the different cameras Dick and I were able to trace the projection beam of the illusions to their source.

"There," I said, pointing at a statue of a Greek man in toga. "See the eyes? They're glowing."

I brought up another angle, this one facing the back of the statue. The new angle showed two faint glowing beams emitting from the eyes. The beams went all the way out to where the holographic woman appeared. Facing the same view as the projector, she looked flat and thin. A 2D rendering of what everyone else saw as 3D.

"We need to find out how whoever did this was able to install those projectors into the statue."

Three days worth of security footage rolled across my monitor at breakneck speeds. The threat warning software was activated to help us identify any strange or unusual goings on at the museum prior to the robbery. The computer finally binged four days prior to the crime. I stopped the rewind and Dick and I watched the footage play out. We didn't see anything at first.

"There," said Dick.

The floor and air around the statue seemed to ripple with movement. It was hard to see, but it was there. The strange ripple in the scenery took up the shape of an adult male. Seemingly invisible to the guards and everyone in the gallery, the shape climbed over a velvet rope hung up around the statue and went to work.

"Another illusions," I said softly. "This one probably mounted on the prep's body, showing the surrounding area to make it appear like he's invisible. But if he can make himself invisible... why the need for the elaborate show a few days later?"

Dutch Hil
7:03 PM

"There," Bruce said, pausing the footage. "See the eyes?" he stuck his finger up to the screen. They're glowing."

Who'd've guesed that a greek statue would've been behind the robbery. I wouldn't.

Bruce and I sat observantly as we tore the clips apart, starving for a lead. Then it happened. I missed it at first, mistaking it for my eyes filling in the blanks, but under closer observation I realized the truth.

"There!" I saw a wave in the footage and identified the form of a man, lacking the color or the other obvious tells. Everyone in the video seemed not to notice the disguised shape. But me and Bruce did.

"Another illusion," he whispered. "This one probably mounted on the perp's body, showing the surrounding area to make it appear like he's invisible. But if he can make himself invisible... why the need for the elaborate show a few days later?"

As Bruce thought to himself for a moment, I identified a reason, it was sitting right in front of me.

"Why do you dress up as a bat and beat the city's drug dealers to a pulp instead of swiping all the cocaine in the city?" I questioned. "Of course there are simpler, even smarter ways to get stuff done, unless... Maybe he wants to be seen--to be feared. Maybe he likes the attention. Maybe the money isn't his motivation, but the show."

"You're right. Nothing like a captivated audience."

A few quick keystrokes on my computer and the video and its data were sent to the archives, added to the ever-changing and shifting criminal patterns of the network's algorithm.

"There. The data we captured from this robbery is now in the system. The Wayne Tech cameras out there will recognize any signs of a forthcoming robbery by the same person or persons. If they act in the same pattern in the next crime, we'll have a few days to watch and wait until they strike."

I leaned back in the chair and turned to Dick. In a micro second I flipped the switch from partner to teacher.

"Now run out the investigative string on this one. You're ready for a future attack, but the network is a weapon of last resort. You can't just sit and wait, hoping for them to strike again. Time to go on the offensive. You have some evidence and a the makings of a pattern of criminal behavior. It's enough to form theories on motive or potential identification. What are those theories? How do you find who's doing this? What's your next move?"

The enemy Kryptonian's heat vision blasted Clark in the chest, sending him spiralling back into the Metropolis skies. He righted himself, turning back towards LexCorp and reading himself for the Kryptonian's charge. He had no idea where this one came from. Superman was sure he had sent all of Zod's forces back to the Phantom Zone with the help of the League and the Lantern Corps. On top of that, even if this was one of Zod's men, he had been quiet for over a year. That was not the MO of the Kryptonian Army. Unless of course he was searching for something to open the Phantom Zone yet again and thought Luthor had it. Whatever the reason this Kryptonian emerged, Clark had to get him out of the city before he did more damage.

When his enemy emerged from the sky scraper, Superman intercepted him and drug him out towards the ocean. Clark knew what kind of damage his people could do inside a populated area, so getting this one out of Metropolis was his primary goal. Once they were over the water, the other Kryptonian managed to free himself and spiked Clark towards the water.

Superman hit the water with force, creating a huge splash. Clark sunk down to a great depth as the salt water closed around him. Regaining his bearings, and with a might stroke of his arms, Superman shoots himself back out of the water and into the air. He spotted his opponent and rocketed towards him. They collided in midair, causing a sonic boom to ripple around them.

"What do you want?" Superman snarled as he struggled with the other alien. His enemy returned his gaze with a steely intensity with a hint of insanity. Whoever he was, he was deranged.

"I am here to seize my destiny," he seethed as his eyes began to glow red. "But you are not the one to take it from."

Clark reacted quickly, letting loose with his own heat vision. The beams met, causing an explosion. Superman tumbled wildly through the air before regaining his balance. By the time he did that, however, the other Kryptonian seems to have disappeared. Sighing, Clark opened his communicator to the Watchtower, "J'onn."

"I'm here, Superman," the voice of the Martian Manhunter responded. He had been living on the Kryptonian ship that was now stuck in orbit around the Earth. He and the ship's artificial intelligence BRAINIAC were monitoring the station and setting it up as a non-weaponized liveable space for the Justice League. Clark wanted the station to be a response center for if the league ever expanded. "Seems like you just had a bit of a tussle."

"It was a Kryptonian," Clark responded, still annoyed. "Get the Watchtower ready. I'm on my way."

Legion Headquarters
Location Unknown

Sebastian Shaw ran his hand along the table as he walked along the table's large perimeter. The meeting hall of the Legion was empty for now, but soon he would call them to move their plans ahead. They had done so much in so little time, and he was finally impressed with a team he had put together. The Shadow's influence was strong this time. Considering what they were up against, this was a good thing. The heroes of the world were strong, and now they were strongly allied with one another. Alone, no member of the Legion would be able to stand a chance against them. But together? Together they could manipulate the super dopes in any matter they saw fit.

They had tried to stop the Justice League from happening. Sparking a conflict between Doctor Doom and Black Adam seemed to be the perfect way to have the League fail and create a world wide war at the same time. Of course, the Legion wasn't counting on the cooperation with SHIELD and the Avengers. Their help of the Justice League allowed the heroes to emerge victorious and the Legion retreated to lick their wounds.

Yet still the fools had no idea the secret society existed, and the Legion would use that to their advantage.

The large screen behind him flick on, and a the Shadow appeared on it, bellowing towards Shaw, "Are they on their way?"

"Yes, my master," Shaw responded, not facing the screen. The Shadow had been his guide to this moment, but he was the one fulfilling their plan. Who ever was on the other side of this conversation did nothing but reap the benefits. "The Legion is on their way. And once the meeting is over, the next phase of your plan will explode onto the world. SHIELD will never know what hit them."

As the two beams of heat vision met, a massive explosion was triggered sending both men away from each other. Superman had answered him, and Ultraman would pay him back in kind. But not now. Flying south, he flew back to the Silver Star Apartments building, and sat atop the roof.

What he had told the other Kryptonian was true. He was here to seize his destiny. But unfortunately he did not know how. As a Kryptonian, he had access to almost godlike ability. To wield power like this required drive, and intensity, otherwise he was simply a mindless brute, capable only of wreaking havoc on his enemies. Whatever the case, he knew he wanted to be more than just a strongman. He wanted SOMETHING, that much was clear. Otherwise, he might as well have been stumbling in the dark.

His fist crashed into the steel beside him, crushing it like Styrofoam. How angry could one man be? He had no sense of purpose, no destiny, but all the power in the world. Ultraman's eyes gazed heavenward, telescoping to the moon. There was something there, some...installation jutting out from its surface. The other Kryptonian was not the only superhero on this world. Here, he was one among many. But there, atop the moon, there might lay his destiny.

As they always did, Ultraman's eyes began to burn red with heat vision. It was, after all, his favorite power.

"I WILL seize My destiny."

Dutch Hill, Gotham City
7:06 PM

Like a stripper revealing herself, Mr.Wayne changed from partner to Burger King manager.

"Now run out the investigative string on this one. You're ready for a future attack, but the network is a weapon of last resort. You can't just sit and wait, hoping for them to strike again. Time to go on the offensive. You have some evidence and a the makings of a pattern of criminal behavior. It's enough to form theories on motive or potential identification. What are those theories? How do you find who's doing this? What's your next move?"

I sat quietly while I listened intently, as much as I hate being lectured, I hate being wrong more. And then I spoke:

"The perpetrator obviously has a background in special effects. Suspects may include anyone from magicians, to film producers, to chemists, to former military operatives. With the cause of fear and panic being his motivation, I'm willing to bet it was someone who had their dreams crushed, whether it be an abusive father, oppressive government, or a failed career.

Perhaps once the museum closes tonight we could investigate the scene to find out the chemical agents used to create the illusions before too much of the forensic evidence is destroyed by the GCPD. Also, finding the make and model of the projector, as well as all of the content stored on it, may help us narrow down our suspects."

I brushed my lip and scratched the bottom of my chin as I awaited a response from my 'partner.' The possibilities are endless, especially if all we're doing is looking at the smoke and mirrors.

"Good assessment," I said with a nod. "I'd say just about everything was spot on. The use of terror isn't necessarily indicative of childhood or early trauma. As you've seen before it can be just a really great motivator. Now the museum doesn't close until ten. I wonder if you'll help me out on something before then."

I quickly ran down my current investigation into the barrel of limbs and blood. From the first meeting with Gordon to my discovering Purple Hue and their habit of using reformed Eastern European gangsters as drivers. I then pulled up an audio file on my computer and hit play. The voice recognition software already cataloged the two participants in the phone call: Salvatore Maroni and Falcone capo Antoni "Toots" Legarrio.

"Years of FBI wiretaps has led to the the mob having the strictest phone discipline of any organized crime syndicate. They never talk business over the phone and only do it in face to face meetings. The Falcone family's fronts don't use Wayne Tech, but I cloned Legarrio's phone months ago and activate its mic whenever he's talking business. I was able to glean this from the mic on his phone a few hours ago."

"This goddamn mess" said Maroni. "These finocchio they can get away with doing this shit? They think we're week since Carmine went away? We need to show 'em who runs the city, you hear me, Toots? You need to send them a message."

"Just tell me when and where, boss."

"Billy the Beaut has a cathouse him and all his guys make rounds to once a week. Tonight is the night they go there. Make sure it's the last time they ever get laid."

The audio ended with the sound of Toots' deep chuckle. I turned away from the computer and back to Dick.

"Whoever killed all those men, it wasn't Russo or the Gnucci Family. What Falcone and Legarrio are about to do will incite a gang war in the city and endanger countless civilians lives that would be caught in the crossfire. I need your help to stop Legarrio from carrying out the hit."

Dutch Hill, Gotham City
7:09 PM

"Holy hookers, Batman'" shocked, I cried out loud.

If I'll help isn't even a question. I can't imagine the anarchy that could amount from that. Killing Billy might seem like it would stop a lot of violent crime, until you consider how many underlings would claw their way up to secure his spot as their own. With crime in Gotham, it's just like that old saying: When it rains, it pours.

"Where can I find Russo?" I asked, intending to act as a silent bodyguard. But at the same time, that might be a little too late. "No," I changed my mind. "Where's the whore house? From there I can secure a perimeter."

I palmed my face as I searched for the right question, then it hit me. "Where can I find Toots?" But still another question lingered, "What are you gonna do, Mr.Wayne?"

This is where I had to choose. Anto Radic, the former Serbian mafia man was also on my radar. Someone texted him that afternoon setting up a meeting tonight near the outskirts of town. If Radic was back in the criminal life then this would give me a good idea on who he's working for and what their plan is. Of the two assignments, what I was asking Dick is the most dangerous at first glance. For all I knew Radic could have been picking up a crate of fish for delivery. If this lead turned out to be nothing while I'm asking a teenager to square off with a crew of armed mobsters...

"I'm going with you."

A few keystrokes on the computer and Toots' crew and all their personal information was in front of us.

"Toots has five men in his crew, every single one of them will be armed. If we want to take them down before it's too late we need to work together to do it."

New York General Hospital

Marko's sandy appendage slams into my chest, dislodging me from his grasp and sending me skipping across the sand covering the hospital's atrium. So far, I've been able to do nothing against the sand man. He's strong, and can literally use every grain around him to take me on. Worst of all, Marko's, well, limited skill set means all this power is going to go in one direction, and that's destruction. I gotta think of some way to slow him down if not stop him outright.

"Marko," I cough, getting back to my feet, "you need to stop."

Another fist of sand strikes me across the face. I go down hard, the pain rippling through my body. My spider sense means nothing in a situation like this. There's absolutely no escape. The entire area is Marko's weapon, and unless I decrease the amount of sand or get out of here. But the dirt is covering every wall, making it impossible to find where the windows and doors are. Which means I have to somehow figure out how to cut his supply off.

"Do I, webhead?" Marko growls. "You ruined my life. You put me away. Now I can finally get back at you."

I sigh as more strikes come my way. I backflip out of the way, but a giant fly swatter materializes behind me, swatting me out of the air. I land in the sand, creating an outline in it similar to what I'd imagine a real life cartoon would look like.

"Ohhhhh..." I groan. "Fly swatter. Clever. I'm supposed to be the clever one, Flint."

"Not so smart now, are ya, Spidey?" Marko chuckles. "You can't stand up to someone with real power, can ya?"

As I lay there, looking up at the ceiling, a quick reflection grabs my attention. A sprinkler fixture seems to wink at me as the shifting sands flow over it. I smile to myself under the mask, "Water. Of course."

"What was that, Spider-man!?" Marko growled.

"Just thinking you look a little thirsty, Marko!" I fling a web at the sprinkler, breaking it open and setting the rest of the system off. Marko roars as the water strikes him, and the sand in the room begins to congeal, stopping Marko's control over it. "Ha! Marko, you're melting! What a world, huh?"

Then, a muddy hammer rams me in the chest, sending me through a wall. I flip, controlling my fall, and land deftly on my feet and one hand, ready for what comes next.

"Note to self," I shake my head, "don't celebrate too early."

Behind me, flash bulbs go off as the people see me. I grumble to myself, "Hey...that's my job."

I figure Marko is busy stewing in his own muck, so I turn to the ground and give them a wave, figuring the people would go home happy. Which of course is when Flint decides to burst through the hospital's front wall.

"Seriously, I need to stop celebrating," I mumble before turning back to the citizens. "Everyone OUT! Seriously! Sandman monster comin through!"

I swing back around Marko. The water has made him sluggish, and he's clearly lost a lot of his mass. He's still powerful though, and I need to keep him away from the fleeing onlookers.

*THWIP*

I fire off a stream of webbing, which begins to cover Marko's face. I have no idea if the guy still sees from where his eyes look like they'd be, but it's worth a try. He swats at me, but now that I'm out in the open, I easily get around it, shooting another webline and seamlessly continuing my swing, landing near the emergency crews that have lined the parking lot. Some of the police have opened fire on Marko, but I yell to them, "Stop! It's not gonna do anything! Use the fire hoses!"

Not waiting for them to act, I swing back towards Marko, kicking straight through his "arm" causing the heavy much to crash to the ground. Marko attempts to gather the substance back, but it continuously falls back to the asphalt. Good. He punches at me with another fist, and I avoid it in midair. Wrapping the webline around his arm and swinging quickly around, the line severs the arm.

By this time, the firemen have gotten the hoses up and running, and the high pressure flows of water drench Marko, who quickly begins to melt away before my eyes. He goes from towering titan to a puddle of muck in a matter of moments. The slimy goop he becomes seems to be still moving as it slides down the drain into the sewers below, which means I probably haven't seen the last of the Sandman. That's a sobering thought, but at least I've found a way to deal with him, and everyone in the hospital got out safe.

Now it's time for bed. I have a biology test tomorrow.

Earth's orbit

Clark floated through space towards the Watchtower, admiring how beautiful his adopted home really was from up here. Zod had tried so hard to get Clark to turn against the people that had raised him in order to rule them. Of course Clark never considered it, and how could he? This world was a gem in the cosmos, and he would make sure that it would stay that way. This was his planet to protect, and now he had a team that could help him do that. The Justice League were the most powerful people in the world, and they would defend the people of the planet with their lives if they had to. Clark was content with his place in the Universe, even if it was a grueling one.

"Watchtower, this is Superman," he said into his commlink. "Open the hangar bay doors."

"Affirmative, Kal Zod,' BRAINIAC's mechanical voice responded. "Welcome home."

Clark smiled and shook his head. BRAINIAC was the Kryptonian AI that controlled the ship's higher functions and allowed J'onn to focus on keeping an eye on Earth. BRAINIAC was also one of the few links Superman had to his Kryptonian homeworld. Though much of what Clark had learned was horrifying, but he also learned about the technological feats which his people managed to create at their time on top of the galaxy. At least there was something to be proud of.

He had also learned his mother Lara was part of that scientific advancement. She came to him through BRAINIAC somehow, and only at certain times. She gave him advice, and said she always hoped he would redeem the Kryptonians rather than continue their path of destruction. She was proud of him, and while he'd never really know her, that meant something to him. At least there was one other Kryptonian he could be proud of.

The Watchtower's bottom half cracked open like a glowing egg as the landing bay opened. Clark glided in, landing comfortably next to the one remaining Kryptonian dropships, dubbed the Javelin by Clark and J'onn. The other two had been destroyed during the fight with the Kryptonian Army. They had been doing their best to collect the pieces so the alien technology didn't fall into the wrong hands, but it was slow going and Clark was sure a good amount had most likely found its way onto the black market. They'd have to deal with that eventually, but for now it wasn't a major issue.

"Welcome aboard, sir," BRAINIAC said, one of his physical modules floated up next to Superman. BRAINIAC was everywhere on the ship, and he had small, floating, physical pods he could control to talk to people directly. "I have made headway in getting the weapon systems dismantled."

"Good job, BRAINIAC," Clark smiled at the little robot. "How much longer?"

"I hope to have it done in a few months," the bot bobbed. "Emperor Zod's firewalls were powerful."

Clark passed into the control room, where he found J'onn sitting in the seat that allowed him to monitor the Earth. Clark had tried to get the Martian to spend more time on the planet's surface and to assimilate, but he had been reluctant. Clark figure he felt awkward around the new people, but Superman was certain he could get J'onn to relax a bit eventually.

"I have been trying to track that Kryptonian but have been unable to do so," he said in a deep, booming voice.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure he'll show up again," Clark took the seat next to him. "You know you should probably not watch this all the time. The people don't like it."

"Yes, well, it helps me learn," he responded, not breaking his gaze on the screen. "Wait."

"What?"

"The Raft...it's having a breakout," J'onn frantically began typing, bringing up the super max prison. The doors were automatically opening and freeing prisoners. "This is a high level cyber attack."

"Those guards don't stand a chance," Superman sighed. "I need to get down there."

| 1 4 0 7 • G R A Y M A L K I N • L A N E |

As the car turned onto the street, the young girl was oblivious to the change of scenery outside the car as the conversation kept her engaged from the start of the trip in New York City to the suburbs of North Salem. The exact topic of discussion varied somewhat, having initially been a suggestion from Carter that they ought to go see the Lego Movie. Through completely random sidebars, the subject of conversation had since shifted to Sponge Bob, My Little Pony, Adventure Time, and - currently up for debate - Steven Universe. It was exactly the kind of conversation that a pair of eight year olds ought to be having, except that neither of the two children riding in the back of the car were what they seemed to be.

Carter Ghazikhanian was a mutant, the son of Nurse Annie, who was driving. His mother wasn't a mutant, but she worked at the school that Carter went to, which was a school exclusively for mutants. Carter looked like an ordinary boy, so much so that most wouldn't have looked twice. As a telepath and telekinetic however, it was what one didn't about Carter that really mattered. He was going to the school to learn how to better control his power, so that he could learn to tune out the thoughts and "noise" he heard from people around him.

Katie wasn't exactly a mutant, but she wasn't quite human either. Not anymore anyway. She'd had a close encounter and wound up abducted, only to be transformed into a living energy weapon capable of leveling buildings or disintegrating people. She'd done the former and horribly scarred others when the accidental use of her powers triggered the latter. More than anything, Katie wanted to learn to be better at controlling her powers. In that sense, this School for Gifted Youngsters sounded like a dream.

"We're here."

That was the first time that Katie laid eyes on her dreams. From the other side of the car window, the pig-tailed girl marveled at the brick and mortar mansion - a home far larger and more grandiose than any she'd seen before. It was the kind of home that celebrities lived in, only there seemed a certain age to the building that gave it the solemnity expected of a school. Carter had already hopped out of his side of the car, starting to pull Katie's bag from the back as the young girl opened her door and took her first step into her new reality.

Was it really okay to be herself here?

"Come on inside," Miss Annie urged, prodding the girl from her wide eyed, mouth agape stupor toward the front door. Across that threshold, the interior was even more amazing than the girl could imagine from the outside looking in. It was like something from an old black and white movie. Regal and polished. A sitting room. A library. "The girl's rooms are upstairs and to the right," Miss Annie commented, gently nudging the girl ahead. "There's a room waiting for you. Carter can show you around after you've set your things down."

Nodding numbly, the young girl took her satchel bag back from her friend and made her way up the grand staircase - the kind that belonged in a Shirley Temple movie - with each step bringing with it new anxieties; the hope that it would be everything she dreamed it would be and the fear that either she wouldn't be mutant enough.

The room in the wing of women's dorms was unmistakable. A poster of Minnie Mouse was hung on one wall, opposite another depicting characters from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic in the room. Tossing the satchel bag on the bed, Katie took a moment to take stock of the small, cramped, dorm-like space and found the idea of it starkly alien. She was the youngest of four. She'd grown up sharing space with her brothers and sister her whole life. When she'd been transformed by the Kymellians, it had been with her brothers and sister. They had formed Power Pack together. They'd even saved the world.

And then, at a certain point, they'd stopped. Each for their own reasons. To not have to lie to their parents any more, or to not have to sneak around all the time, or to not worry about how their powers might hurt someone. They'd tried to forget that they were Zero-G, Lightspeed, Mass Master, and Energizer... and just be Alex, Julie, Jack, and Katie.

But ignoring what they could do wasn't going to solve the problem of having powers. If anything, it was liable to make an already uncomfortable situation even worse.

So here she was. But at least she was going to get a tour of just where 'here' was.

| A S G A R D |

Asgardians loved to toot their own horns. They blew them when they were hunting. They blew them when they were feasting. They blew them when they were fighting. If there was one sound which the young king would have gladly lived every day since without, it was the sound of those horns. And they had been blowing now for over an hour, as the first of Hel's black banners became visible upon the rainbow bridge. The legions of Hel were marching on Asgard. The sound of drums brought archers to the walls, engineers to the catapults, and soldiers to the armory. The Warriors Three had returned with Beta Ray Bill, whose hammer Stormbreaker would now lead the army of Asgard in place of his oath brother.

Brother. Loki would have very much liked to have known where his were. Balder had taken up the quest to secure Thor's return to Asgard, a task which Loki had set for Sif. But the queen of Asgard had disagreed. How convenient for her that, as Hel marched on Asgard, both of her actual children were no where to be found. Balder the Brave. Thor, the god of Thunder. And what was he? The trickster. The god of fools.

Staring down a massed army of the dead.

He knew from the sound of the footfall behind him that it was Sif, even before she spoke. "My lord, why do we waste time with preparations for a feast, when it is war that is upon us?"

From the balcony over which he now surveyed two opposing armies, the young king turned back to look up the warrior-woman of Asgard. She wanted to be out on the battlefield, but instead she was charged with watching over the king. He rather had the impression she much preferred combat to his presence. Perhaps the whole hair incident wasn't quite healed as of yet. "If war be upon us, then I suspect that our guests should soon be hungry," the young god opined simply, turning back toward the war.

"Which guests do you speak of?"

For a moment, Loki smiled in spite of himself. Or, perhaps, because of himself. After all, who knew Loki better than Loki? Turning away, the boy motioned for the woman to follow as he started back through the castle. "Who ever comes to dinner in Asgard, my lady," the young king asked sullenly, adding, "The dead and those who wish us so."

"And the fighting?"

Pausing, the boy turned to look up at her. The look in his eyes left no room for doubt that this was not one of his games. Or, if it were, it were unlike any before it. "The fighting shall be brief," Loki stated firmly, before marching on.

He stepped out of the barricades without armor. Without weapon. The soldiers stepped aside for him, the Warriors Three taking up position behind him even as Beta Ray Bill and Sif flanked him, as the young king casually strolled out of the security of Asgard's walls and onto the battlefield as though it meant nothing more to him than a Thor's Day walk. Dwarfed by the Aesir behind him and the dead before, the boy continued his gait unabated until he stood before a tall, green-armored woman in a wickedly shaped helm. The color held his eye for a moment. If she were his daughter, she had a rather discerning taste in color.

"Lady Hela, we are honored by your presence," the young king of Asgard intoned with all the polite pomp that was to be expected. Holding out his cloak, he gave the woman the customary, if brief, bow of respect before straightening himself back upright. Craning his head back to look up at the woman, the boy stated, "We prepared a feast, but had not expected your entourage to be so..." he allowed himself to trail off then, making a show of looking to the left and the right of the woman, at the army behind her. "...robust," the boy concluded finally, fixing his eyes back up on the goddess of Hel.

"You may dispense with the pleasantries," Hela barked, her voice an otherworldly, rasping bark that resonated across the field. The dramatic effect sent one eyebrow up on the boy's brow. A parlor trick, but an effective one. He would remember that. "You will escort me to Valhalla or I shall escort myself upon the bodies of the Aesir," the goddess declared flatly.

The eyebrow that had been raised resumed its normal place on his otherwise bemused face. Raising one hand, the child-god motioned from the mistress of Hel to bend her ear closer to him.

Instead, she grabbed the boy by the front of his cloak, raising him up to her own eye level. Which, was not how he'd hoped to get her undivided attention, but it would do. Lowering his voice to a whisper, the boy said only, "I am the Odinson. I sit upon the throne of Asgard. Valhalla is mine." As he felt her grip tighten, the young king asked quietly, "Tell me, dear Hela, have you bothered to look behind your ranks."

She was his daughter. Or, she was a Loki's daughter. He knew that as truth the moment that their eyes connected and the boy found himself staring at a mirror. When she broke away from his gaze, the goddess dropped the boy back to the ground as she suddenly grew several meters in height, turning her head to look back behind her army. There were banners on the horizon, depicting a white sky dominated by a gold lightning bolt.

"There is an army of Greeks marching upon the Bifrost," Hela snapped from on high.

"Your powers of observation are laudable," the young Loki commented, raising his voice as he spoke up to the now giant-sized mistress of Hel. "Should Heimdall ever disappoint me, I should have a commission for you waiting in his observatory."

Hissing loudly, the goddess of the dead turned to look back at the small boy with the same baleful green eyes. "What trickery is this?"

"They are Greeks," the boy offered with a shrug. "They come for a wedding. Or a battle. I should say naught which I prefer."

"Whose wedding?" Hela demanded.

"Did your invitation not yet arrive?" Loki inquired smoothly, innocently. "We are uniting the pantheons. Asgard and Olympus stand as one."

Hela just held his gaze.

Inclining his head slightly, Loki feigned an innocuous expression as he remarked, "I do hope this isn't too inconvenient for your plans."

"Forbidden!"

The bemused smile returned. "Perhaps the screams of the dishonored dead have dulled your hearing, so I shall give the courtesy of repeating myself," Loki offered, gesturing at the army behind him. "I am the Odinson. I sit upon the throne of Asgard. I decide what is forbidden," the boy declared firmly, locking eyes on the woman as he added, "Now, you will lay down your weapons or... frankly, my lady, we shall send you all back to the Hel from whence you came."

The two just stared at each other. Another lifetime, another story, it was frankly frightening to consider what the two of them might have accomplished together rather than in opposition to one another. Sadly, few things - if anything - ever worked out that way in favor of Loki.

"Lady's choice, of course," the boy added smoothly.

Dutch Hill, Gotham City
7:10 PM

"Toots has five men in his crew, every single one of them will be armed. If we want to take them down before it's too late we need to work together to do it."

I nodded my head in understanding. "Sounds like a plan."

I looked at the monitor of Bruce's computer and gleaned a good bit of insight as to who we were going to be dealing with. I love a good fight and a good surprise or five, but I also like winning a fight. Or five. Usually that means I don't rush in and punch everyone at once. Usually. I have gotten lucky before.

"So, when do we do this? Ten minutes, twenty? I'm ready when you are, Bats," I popped my jacket and flashed my collar. "The dynamic duo strike again."

"Let's go."

Old Gotham
9:34 PM

The night vision lenses on my cowl bathed the area in a sickly green light. I sat squatted down on a ledge five stories above the street, overlooking down below at the passing cars. This part of town is a far cry from the towering skyscrapers and glass and metal behemoths of downtown. Old Gotham is the remnants of colonial Gotham, the city founded three hundred years ago. Small buildings that don't go above six stories, tight alleyways that can induce claustrophobia, it's the perfect place to carry out an ambush. Also the perfect place to set up a counter-ambush.

My HUD flashed with a GPS tracking update. Dick's bike is twelve blocks away and closing in. His part of the job was to follow Toots' car from afar and initiate the ambush. If everything sticks to the plan, they'd be at the end of the block heading this way when Dick sped past Toot's car and tossed spikes under the the chassis. If the math and crash projections played out just right, their disabled car would skid to a stop right below me.

On the radio in my ear I could hear the sounds from Billy Russo's cathouse visit, thanks to the bug inside his phone. You don't need the details, just know that he was otherwise occupied four blocks away from my current location. Another proximity beep from Dick's bike, this one warned me that he was approaching the time frame to spring the trap.

"Thirty seconds, Dick," I said into the bluetooth in my cowl. "We only have one shot at this. Make your move quickly and don't hesitate."

Old Gotham
9:34 PM

Cruising behind Toots for a few minutes wasn't too bad. It was kind of awkward because I have a distinctively bright red & yellow paint job. But fortunately I was hidden from view by a sea of cars between me and the mobsters. I had to close the distance promptly though, if many more cars slip between me and Toots, I'd never make my deadline.

From within my helmet, my commlink chirped to life, "Thirty seconds, Dick, We only have one shot at this. Make your move quickly and don't hesitate."

No pressure, right?

Then I saw exactly where we were: Only thirty yards away from the designated point. I wasn't sure how to time it right to get the closest I could to--

"Aw, screw it!" I shouted as I twisted the accelerator, throwing the bike into action.

I'd had to immediately weave between car after car, forcibly switching lanes to avoid hitting bystanders who'd been crossing over. Then I hit a convenient spot where everyone was tightly packed together and going straight. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I maniacally accelerated, nearing a hundred miles per hour while still balancing between lanes.

A little bit sooner than I'd expected, I came up on Toots' car, which was quite ahead of the pack of traffic jams waiting to happen, so I impulsively threw down a handful of tacks onto on the road below them, before charging away.

"Executed," I announced to Bruce.