The DCFutures FanFic group is aware that many of the names and concepts used in this work of fiction are the property of DC Comics. We use them WITHOUT PERMISSION for NO PROFIT, but rather a look into the future of some of our favorite characters. Some of the concepts and all of the story is, however ENTIRELY original, and property of the authors. So there. **** EN ROUTE TO GOTHAM “We’ll be in Gotham City in about ten minutes,” Ollie said, admiring the smooth control on Tim Drake’s hovercar. “What’s our plan?” “We have a plan?” Guy asked, amused. “I want to see exactly what kind of monster it is we’re dealing with here,” Tim said. “But if it is big and bad, Ollie will attack it from the front; I’ll look out for the folk on the sidelines, if there is anyone. If not, I’ll pitch in with our Robin Hood. Guy, you sneak up and wallop the baddie from behind. Don’t let it see you.” “Oh my Lord, he actually has a plan,” Guy said. “Worse, it makes sense.” Ollie agreed. “But, ah, won’t it be hard for you to combat the enemy as you are?” “As I am? What do you—oh.” Tim looked down at his Keravin ensemble, his black pants, jacket, and red turtleneck. Definitely not the dressings of a dark knight, as Oliver had subtly pointed out. Tim looked at his watch. “Don’t worry, Ollie. I’ll be ready.” Tim then proceeded to open the hatch in the rear of the hovercar. Ollie and Guy looked back in unison at the sound of rushing wind. “Tim, what the hell’re you doing?!?” Guy howled. “We’re a good sixty feet off the ground!” Hovervehicles, as we all know, tend to stay within three feet of the ground. However, to attain greater speed and range, one can tinker with the hoverengine and disengage the safety feature, as Tim had done with all of his vehicles as soon as he’d learned how to drive. “I know,” Tim said stepping out the hatch. “I’ll see you in Lowtown.” “TIM!” Guy began to yell. Ollie tapped him on the shoulder and pointed out to the left, where the Batmobile could be seen leveling off beside them. Tim waved from an open window before the sleek ebon vehicle soared higher into the clouds, out of sight. “Showoff,” Guy and Ollie muttered in unison. **** The DCF Fan Fiction Group Finally Presents: INFINITY, INC.: DCF #3 "The One Where There’s This Really Big Fight." [Note: This Issue Takes Place Before Batman: DCF #38] **** Written By: Jason “Mr. Tinkertrain” Tippitt (scarcrest@hotmail.com) and Erik “Crazy Train” Burnham (darvey@rocketmail.com) **** GOTHAM -- LOWTOWN: GARMENT DISTRICT Alisha Michaels shoved her friend, Darcy Martin, to the ground just in time to prevent her from being decapitated by a hurled axe. The weapon buried itself deeply in the wall of a nearby store. *This* was the growling sound Alisha's hypersensitive hearing hadpicked up. Although it would have been pretty hard to miss. "Go home, Darcy," Alisha said, her eyes flashing with sparks of light. "You can't fight that thing alone!" Darcy squealed. Alisha's body bulked up with a thought. "Do you see any other superheroes around here?" she asked, then dropped down as the beast charged her. She flipped the creature over her shoulder, sending it plummeting five, eight, ten stories down into the entertainment ection. It hit the floor with a thud, but then started to rise. "Well, he oughtta at least play dead," Darcy said. "I'll call you later," Alisha commented. Then the retired Justice Leaguer occasionally known as Star grabbed the railing and jumped over, her arms and legs stretching the distance to allow her to reach the next railing. She climbed down the balcony ledges like rungs on a ladder. "I'll show *you* to interrupt my first good day in weeks..." **** GOTHAM – LOWTOWN: THE FOOD COURT “So you just admitted to these guys that trusted you that you were really an operative for their worst enemy?” Danny Parker – known to some as Plastic Man – asked while exhaling a bounty of smoke and a whistle. “What on earth inspired that flash of brilliance?” “I felt I owed it to them,” Jonathan Bolander shrugged, staring into his coffee and wondering why he was telling this stranger anything at all. “If we were about to die, I wanted a clear conscience.” “I don’t understand people like you,” Plas shrugged, dousing his cigarette between his fingers. “Nobody deals with their world being shattered in a good way. I tried to kill myself when it happened to me. They tried to kill you. I mean, how stupid do you have to be to think some kind of honor would--” A loud crash cut Danny Parker’s speech off as, not twenty feet away, two giant…things landed in the center of the food court. They were each half again the size of a gorilla and decked out in some retro-futuristic commando wear. One of the two had some frilly hat on his head; apparently that made him the one in charge. “Of course,” Hourman mumbled, deactivating the fabric-only image inducer that masked his union suit from the rest of the world. “Are you coming?” He asked Danny as an afterthought. “Why should I?” Plastic Man replied. Hourman gritted his teeth and pulled from his belt a tiny stun beam. It wasn’t effective against the Leaguers that came after him – they were all prepared for it – but he needed an edge against these monsters and right now, there was no way that edge could come in capsule form. **** GOTHAM -- LOWTOWN: RED-LIGHT DISTRICT Helena Shaw looked around this infamous borough through the eyes of the Manhunter's cold, metallic mask. She'd used the transporter tubes to teleport into the safehouse she kept here -- one of about seventy-five her bounty hunting agency maintained under various false names across the face of the planet. Nothing too unusual here. Well, other than the usual. A variety of shops pandering to various and sundry fetishes and strange appetites. 'Massage' shops with half-naked women and men standing in their doorways. A broadcast had placed Hourman somewhere in the massive Lowtown region. She didn't figure Hourman would gravitate toward this area, though, so it was time to move on toward more likely territory. He was, from all accounts, far too Catholic for this. Although there were photos circulating on the datanets of him dressed in a Wonder Woman outfit at various venues which Donut was confident were *not* digitally altered... She started making her way toward an elevator, when she heard a horrible screeching sound behind her. She turned to look and saw some... thing... snatching up one of the prostitutes. The woman screamed, and the beast threw her to the ground with a sickening crunch. Whatever this ape-looking monstrosity was, it didn't like sounds too well, Helena surmised. She reached into a pouch hidden inside her oversized tunic and pulled an egg-shaped sonic weapon. Based on hardware the TwenCen Black Canary used after she lost her metahuman powers. The highest setting ought to work, she figured as she tossed the weapon. Through a mental link with her mask's hardware, she activated the noise suppression system... The sound bomb detonated just as the creature was starting to pick up the bleeding woman from the sidewalk. Glass shattered for three city blocks. The monster's hands flew to its ears, and it dropped to its knees. Helena charged toward it, the power baton emitting a photonic blade at its tip, swung like a golfer, and sent the beast's head flying. Helena walked over to the sonic bomb and flipped the off switch. Her mask's software allowed her access to do this; in anyone else's hands, it would have exploded into shrapnel. She pocketed the bomb back inside her tunic, reminding herself to recharge it when she got home. She just hoped there were no more of these things. The Manhunter dropped down beside the prostitute, feeling for a pulse. She was dead; it may have been the throw onto the pavement, or it might have been the sound bomb. The bounty hunter regretted this casualty, but if she hadn't intervened, the woman would have probably been eaten alive, anyway. Reaching inside her tunic again, she pulled out a 911 beacon and activated the "DOA" call setting. She placed it inside the woman's hand and cupped the fingers around it. At least she wouldn't be left out here on the street for long. She walked back toward the elevator, pausing to look in horror at something on display in a 'costume shop.' It looked like Batman's union threads... only in leather... with nipples. What kind of sicko dreamed THAT up?, she wondered. Shaking her head, she stepped into the elevator and pressed a button to carry her up to the food courts. **** GOTHAM – LOWTOWN: GROCERY STORE, LEVEL SEVEN Oliver Kismet Hawke walked cautiously, creeping like a cat with his bow held low before him. There were no shoppers present – an odd happenstance, to be sure. Lowtown epitomized New York’s age old adage ‘…that never sleeps.’ Ollie and Guy had arrived at the shopping mecca fifteen minutes before and, seeing neither hide nor hair of Tim Drake, decided to venture forth using the plan they had been presented. A frightened young man – who had recognized Guy from some event in Gotham ages ago – told them where to start. So far, there had been nothing. Ollie closed his eyes, quieted his breathing, and continued forth – using only his ears to guide him. The clanking of cans. A low, grumbling sound. Ollie opened his eyes and quickened his pace. Three aisles over, he saw it. It was anthropomorphic… barely. The closest thing Ollie could relate it to in his mind was a gorilla with a large, oversized mouth that dominated it’s face and three rows of sharp yet blocky teeth. It was covered in a course gray fur as well as some form of primitive armor; laying on the ground was an enormous axe, dyed a dull red with the blood of former victims. Ollie raised his bow and said a silent prayer as he squared the beast in his sights. He drew the arrow back, and let it fly. It never reached its target, snatched out of the air amidst a black blur. It was the Batman. He handed the arrow back to Ollie and put a finger to his lips: silence. “Can you understand what I’m saying?” Tim asked in sign language seconds later. Ollie nodded. “Good,” Batman continued. “Why?” Ollie asked. His sign language was rather basic and more than a little rusty, but it had been a necessity to communicate with Mercury back in the old days. As such, he ‘read’ it a whole lot better than he ‘spoke’ it. “I got everyone out,” Batman said. “And came looking for you two. That,” Batman pointed to the beast, “has already killed three people. I couldn’t let you shoot it, though, and risk angering it.” “Why?” Ollie repeated. “It’s eating metal cans. A few minutes ago, it was breaking glass in its mouth trying to get at some juice. Your arrows aren’t likely to do any more than make it mad, and until Guy shows up, that’s something we can’t afford. By the way, it has an excellent sense of hearing,” Tim finished, explaining his chosen method of communication. Ollie nodded, noticing motion near the beast. He pointed it out to the Batman, who smiled. “Okay,” Bats spoke up, as he pulled a strange looking orb from his belt. “Fire away.” He pressed the top of the spheroid and flung it at the beast, releasing an electric current that danced about the monster’s form and elicited a scream of rage as it turned. …Into a flurry of arrows strung and fired with the precision and skill of one of the greatest marksmen the world had ever known. The scream of rage intensified, and Batman had been proven correct: the arrows – as forcefully as they had hit – did not sink more than a quarter inch into the beast’s flesh. It brushed them out, leaving trickles of dark blood in their stead. And then it charged. “Duck,” Batman advised as he saw Gardner step out from behind the monster, his arm glowing hot. FSSSHHHHZZZZZAK! The monster fell forward, dead. “Nice shot, Mr. Gardner.” Batman grinned. “The beer’s on me.” “Not yet it ain’t,” Guy replied in a solemn tone. “That’s a parademon… and they don’t travel alone.” “Meaning there’s more of them?” Ollie asked. “I’d bet my bar on it,” Guy said. “Now the way these things work is to set themselves up in a central location and then attack outwards, y’know, satellite. Pretty basic as far as tactics go…” “And pretty effective,” Ollie finished. “…And I doubt they went and got creative since the last time I sawr’em.” “How many could there be?” Batman asked. His question was met by a long stare by Guy Gardner. “In any one unit,” Guy said, “as many as fifty, as few as twelve. They wouldn’t send any more’n one unit to the same place… they’d be spread out ‘round the city.” “So we’re looking at a one group. And between eleven and forty-nine more of that?” Batman asked. “Yep.” “Just thought I’d ask. Ollie, you own any stock in this place?” “No.” “Then the beer’s on you when we get done.” **** GOTHAM -- LOWTOWN: THE GAMING CENTER Alisha's arms and legs were sore from the shape shifting by the time she got to arcade level. She wasn't sure she could have handled much more climbing. "Where'd that ugly bastard go?" she muttered. Screaming from a v.r. gaming room. That was probably a sign. Unlesssome stupid punk dropped acid before climbing in. But the number of people running out screaming seemed to suggest this was where she should go. Alisha shoved her way through the crowd and into the v.r. arcade. The beast was closing in fast on a child -- a pre-teen girl, maybe ten years old, who stood there like a deer caught in headlights. "Move, kid!" Alisha yelled. The girl ducked just in time, and the beast ended up grasping nothing but the child's v.r. helmet. It looked in confusion at the device, then something seemed to register in its head. A hat. The leaders wore these. And so the parademon slipped the device over its head. "What game's that hooked to?" Alisha mouthed to the girl. The gamer pointed toward a console. Alisha dove for console, reaching for its power cord. She concentrated, and send a pulse of power running through the machine, up the cables, and into the headset. The parademon slumped over, its neurological system overloaded. Alishaand the girl sat there in silence a few moments. "Once a superhero, always a superhero," Alisha finally muttered. “Guess he shouldn't have taken the brown acid," the youngster said. Outside, they heard a commotion. "If we could get 'em all in here, it might be easy," Alisha said, rising to her feet. "Maybe we're lucky, and that was just a crowd mobbing some celebrity." **** GOTHAM -- LOWTOWN: OUTSIDE THE FOOD COURT This one wasn't dying anywhere near as easily as his buddy upstairs, Helena observed. She'd even maneuvered this damned dirty ape into shoving its fist into a power line, and it had only made the beast madder. She wondered if each one had different strengths and weaknesses from the others, to make them unpredictable. "Helena, bad news and worse news," Donut said through the speaker next to Helena's ear. "What's the bad news?" "These things are from Apokolyps," the blind hacker said. "Parademons." "What's the worse news?" Helena asked, leaping into the air in time to avoid a crushing blow. "You know that old saying about strength in numbers?" "All in all, I'd rather be in Oxford," Helena mused. "I've got an idea. You ever watch any really bad TwenCen movies?" "I saw 'The Fifth Element'," Donut mused. "I'm talking about stuff with no budget." She bounced off the creature's chest and through a swinging door into the kitchen of one of the mall's fast-food places. "Ever see 'Blood Diner'?" "No, I'm afraid I missed that masterpiece," Donut replied. "I'm not surprised you have, though." "Here, ugly, ugly, ugly," the Manhunter taunted through the external mike. The kitchen crew scattered, running out past the counter and into the food court. "I resent that," Donut said. "I said 'Ugly,' not 'Tubby'," Helena countered. "Hey!" The parademon charged through the door, then stopped. The smell of food was strong here, yes. It sidled over next to the open grill and started grabbing hamburger patties and shoving them into its mouth. "You like that?" the Manhunter taunted. The beast looked at her, then turned its attention back to the food on the grill. "I bet you'd flip for something deep-fried." Helena grabbed a hamburger and tossed it into the fry vat. The parademon let out a growl, then turned toward the fryer. Helena leapt up, grabbed its head, and shoved it into the grease. The parademon thrashed, trying to get her off its back, but she managed to hold its head under for a few seconds. When it threw her, it pulled its head out, blistered, and lunged toward the Manhunter. Helena hit the blade button on her baton, and shoved it toward the parademon's skull. The beast fell down, dead. "You still there?" Donut asked. "Yeah," Helena said. "Thank God for late-night television." **** GOTHAM – LOWTOWN: THE FOOD COURT These monsters had absolutely no nerve clusters to be exploited, Hourman thought. At least none he could find. FSHZZZK! He fired a stun bolt into the eyes of the one with the hat and kicked it in the groin, nearly shattering his foot for the trouble, and just barely avoiding a swipe from the other beast as he did so. Thank God Almighty that League training worked so well. Blow after blow, ducking, dodging, and nothing. Hourman was dearly wishing that he had his JL unit back… or the guts to pop another Miraclo pill. He may be dead if he tried it, he would be dead if he didn’t. No. He couldn’t risk using one, even if he survived this, he still needed all the pills he had left to live out his life safely away from the League… “Hruuuk!” Hourman gasped. One of the monsters had finally gotten the bright idea to grab hold of his cloak… and was pulling it so tightly there was absolutely no way that he could unfasten it and free himself. Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name… Hourman thought as images of happier times danced about the darkness that was enveloping his vision. Thy Kingdom come… He was transported into his own little world where everything was perfect; he was married and a father and there was nothing amiss in the world; no Patriot, no League, no squabbles, no war. Absentmindedly, Jonathan Bolander clutched at the ring that hung on a chain beneath his tunic… the ring of his one and only love. Love that was lost a long time ago. Thy Will be done… Entranced as he was, Hourman never noticed the flesh-colored tendrils that snaked towards the two beasts and silently wrapped around their treelike arms, sliding their way towards the mouths of the parademons and inside. Suddenly, Jonathan Bolander found oxygen once again winnowing it’s way into his lungs. His vision cleared in time to see, from his position on the floor where he had just been dropped, two gigantic creatures grabbing their own heads in their own massive fists and yanking until the sound of splintering bones bid them pause and they had joined him on the floor. Thy Will be done…On Earth as it is in Heaven. Jonathan Bolander made the sign of the cross and saw the tendrils reuniting with Plastic Man. “What…?” Hourman asked. “I played them like puppets,” Danny Parker explained. “Manipulated their arms from the inside. Figured I could do that, them being so big and all – it ain’t as hard to find the right tendons.” “Why didn’t you…” Jonathan paused to cough. “Choke them?” “They didn’t have any lungs.” “Thank you.” “Hey, say what you want…” Parker said as he lit up yet another cigarette. “I was just protecting my investment. Thought you could’ve taken ‘em, though.” “Well, I couldn’t.” Hourman said, standing up at last. “Thank you again.” Plastic Man shrugged and shot an arm out to support the staggering hero. It stunk like of flesh and vomit. “Careful, there.” Plastic Man said in a surprisingly uncynical tone. Perhaps there was more to this man after all, Bolander thought. >From near the escalator, Bolander heard a woman screaming. “We have to help,” he said, slowly shrugging off his wooziness and starting toward the scream’s origin. “Why?” “Because… we can, Danny.” Bolander paused. “I’ll autograph my League ID badge and give it to you if you’ll help.” “In THAT case,” the younger man smirked, “it’s Plastic Man to the rescue.” **** GOTHAM -- LOWTOWN: AMUSEMENT PARK "Would you idiots get off that already?" Grayven shouted. As spectacles go, a quintet of parademons attempting to dismount a merry-go-round should never be missed. At least if seen from a far, far distance. If you get too close, they tend to mistake you for lunch. These five hadn't quite grasped the correct order of "wait for the ride to stop" followed by "get off the ride in a safe, orderly fashion." A sixth one had been knocked unconscious earlier in this attempt, and was now cowering under the Ferris wheel. Grayven stood watching the "pride of Apokolyps' army" as they tripped over one another, set a foot off and fell over as the ride moved along, and generally made themselves look like asses. Earth primates would have more going in the conversation department, actually. The blood of Darkseid flowed through Grayven's veins. It didn't all reach his brain, though. Which made the pairing of him and the parademons pretty shrewd thinking for the folks upstairs. Grayven, however, saw this mission as terribly important, even if he didn't really know what he was supposed to accomplish here other than scaring the earthlings. His was not to reason why, though. His was but to do or... get his butt handed to him a paper bag. "They should be returning by now," Grayven said. Something smacked Grayven in the chest, knocking him backward. He looked down to see the head of one of his soldiers. "Who dares?" he shouted, looking around in anger. His five attendants pulled themselves together and came to rally around their boss in his moment of alpha-male glory. "Dunno who capped Cornelius there, but after watching you clowns, I must say I'm feeling pretty damn daring," came a reply. Grayven looked up to see a man dressed in black with a red symbol across his chest, hanging from a rope above him. "Although the merry-go-round's just a little too tame for me. The Tilt-a-Whirl's what it's all about, boys." The mask obscured the man's features, and Grayven wasn't much for catching sarcasm, but he knew what was going on. This man was...smirking. "Get him!" "Now don't just all gang up on the rodent," Manhunter said, vaulting past a parademon to knock Grayven to the ground. "You'll make me feel like a wallflower." “Rodent?” Batman shot back as he dismounted, tossing a batarang with a small sonic pulse towards Manhunter’s parademon. “I feel so… quashed!” "Is everyone gonna spout cornball dialogue, or are we gonna take these losers?" Guy Gardner shouted, jumping down from the Ferris wheel and clobbering a parademon with one of his massive arms. Dragon didn't say anything. He fired a forcefield arrow at one of the parademons, trapping it in place. He'd discovered that a Big Barda arrow could kill one of these things, but his identity was publicly known, and he hated to think of what what his liability insurance was going to look like after this. Grayven managed to pin the Manhunter down. He held a weapon in his hand, what looked like some sort of bludgeon. Helena was holding the man's arm back, but pretty soon he was going to smash her skull in, unless... A boot caught Grayven in the side of his head, staggering him. The second boot smashed into the New God's ribcage, knocking him clear of Helena. She looked up to see Hourman, his costume badly ripped, and his skin metallic in appearance. When four of the long leggedy beasties had jumped Bolander and the Plastic Man, he'd finally had to take one of the damned pills; his heartbeat was irregular right now, but he wasn't dead just yet. "You alright, Manhunter?" he asked. "Yeah," she replied. "I'm gonna go beat his sorry ass some more, then," he said, jumping on Grayven and butting the hairy man's head with his iron skull. Batman found himself in the grip of one of these magillas, his ribs feeling the pressure of its arms. His feet were off the ground, so there wasn't much he could do for leverage. "Get ready to roll," he heard a stranger's voice say. "I'm already shaking and rattling," Tim managed to creak out. Danny Parker mimicked the parademon's gesture, grabbing it from behind and flipping it backward over his shoulders. The creature's neck snapped, and the Batman rolled out from under it as it started to land on him. "Thanks," Batman said. Plastic Man pulled a disposable camera out of his pocket. "Say 'I'm making this guy a lot of cash'," he said, as he snapped a photo. Grayven threw Hourman into the fountain. Bolander found it hard to pull himself up out of the water. Gardner impaled his parademon and looked around. He saw the statue face-down in the water. "I'm gonna go help Doc Savage out," hemuttered as Tim shoved a bomb down the throat of one of the uglies. Grayven stepped backward, toward the Ferris wheel, pulling some sort of beeping box from his belt. "I'll kill us all!" he shouted. "Nah," came another voice. He looked around to see an earth woman there, her hand glowing. A bolt of energy poured forth from Alisha Michaels' hand, and the bomb melted down harmlessly -- except for the molten metal singing Grayven's hand. "Granny take you all!" the hairy solder shouted, then pressed a button on his wrist gauntlet. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!! The Boom Tube portal to Apokolyps opened in the air, and Grayven leapt through it, followed by his four surviving parademons. The dimensional rift closed almost immediately thereafter. Plastic Man walked over to where Gardner was helping Hourman out of the fountain. Bolander was turning back to flesh and blood, shivering. He put a hand on Hourman's shoulder. "You gonna make it?" he asked. Bolander looked up. "Yeah," he said. "Good," Plas smiled, pulling out a pen. "Now, about that I.D.badge..." **** GOTHAM – LOWTOWN: ABOVEGROUND LOBBY Batman was congratulating everyone. Star, the shape-shifting ex-Leaguer, found herself inspired by the Bat’s preaching of an inspirational team of heroes… And considering the lives she had seen him save, he practiced what he preached – more than she could say of most of the Leaguers she knew. She accepted his offer of membership, and was awed by the presence of Guy Gardner, who was in full support of the dark knight’s vision. The archer – whom she knew as ‘Dragon,’ an expatriate of Tresser’s little militia – was… interesting. The way he let silence speak for itself… it reminded her of a little of Daniel and the best things about the wilderness of Maine. Plastic Man was intrigued at the mention of pay. Apart from the group, Manhunter found her quarry. “We meet again, Mr. Bolander,” Helena said through the expressionless mask on her face. “Have you been hired to collect me?” He asked. Straight to the point, as per usual. “Yes.” “Then we have a problem.” “Yes, Jonathan, we do.” The Manhunter said. “But I don’t think it’s the same problem.” Her statement was met with a quizzical expression. “You knew a disturbance like this would bring a Leaguer or two in.” “Eventually. Reaction time’s always been a bit slow for Gotham.” “…Yet you stayed ‘til the bitter end, and did more than your share. I can’t very well arrest a man who’s just saved my life.” “You’ve done it before; I’ve read the reports.” “So call it a brief subversion of principles that no one EVER has to know about.” “I got away in the confusion?” “Exactly.” It would have been perfect, if not for… “Excellent work!” Helena heard a familiar voice sing out as Hourman became bonded in a forcefield that pinned his arms tightly against his sides. “Captain,” Helena said icily as she searched Hourman’s face for some sign of forgiveness. There was none. “I congratulate you all on a job well done,” The Justice League’s Captain Atom said, raising his voice loud enough to announce his presence. “We were on our way, but it seems like we were unnecessary this time, eh?” Tim, Ollie, and Guy looked up at the man in confusion for a moment. He looked like the man they knew from the Suicide Squad, but the insignia on his metal skin was different -- the same as he'd worn in the TwenCen. His bearing was different, too, more arrogant; closer to the man Gardner had known back then than the more mature, if more angry, hero of 2113. “Enough with the ringmaster impression,” Batman said, noticing Leaguers relieving Hourman of his belt and placing him in solid shackles. “What do you think you’re doing? That man’s a hero.” “A fugitive,” Captain Atom corrected. “And he will stand trial for high treason and espionage.” “The hell with that!” Tim said, striding towards the silvery man with blood in his eye. “We treat heroes a little bit better than that in my town!” His hand went to his belt and found it’s way to a batarang. “Batman, no!” Ollie whispered, grabbing Tim’s shoulder. Guy had to assist the archer in detaining the dark knight; he was stronger than either would have guessed – and he was still trying to attack Captain Atom. “Let me go!” Batman said harshly. “It’s better that they don’t,” Captain Atom said, with glowing eyes and lighting crackling about his fist. “Unless you wish your city to mourn its hero?” “Batman, please.” Hourman asked. “It’s time I stopped running.” “Good man,” the Captain agreed sarcastically, agitating the Bat even more. “Stay out of trouble,” he added as the Leaguers loaded their prisoner onto a transport and left. “I really don’t like that man,” Batman said as he watched the transport rise and disappear into the clouds above… and heard the sounds of approaching reporters as they descended upon his team. **** THE END **** NEXT ISSUE: You'll have to read it to believe it. (And, no, that doesn't mean we have no idea what's next. It's just that wacky.) Can we have some letters to print?