THE BLACK ROOM, ARGUS
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
“It’s just as I thought,” June announced as she returned to the table with etchings of the five points they’d noticed registered upon a geographical map. She placed it on the table and flattened it. “Each of the cities that seem to be dispelling these magical disturbances fall in the path of ley lines.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not much of a magician, I leave all of that to her, but even I know there’s some folklore about ley lines and magic.”
Mister E nodded. “Dragon lines. Ancient magic.”
Unsatisfied with Mister E’s lack of an explanation, the crimson-haired June looked across her shoulder at Jason expectantly.
“They’re connections between magical sites,” replied the scholar, indulging her curiosity and willingness to learn. Her presence made him feel almost as though he stood a chance at returning to the life to which he’d become accustomed, that of an educator. “Magic is said to run through them. Enough magic that even someone who wasn’t empowered would be able to channel it if they had the correct arcane knowledge.”
She shrugged, a triumphant smile forming on her face. “Well, that’s it then. We have our answer. They’re using the latent magic of these cities to empower whatever it is that the artefact can do.”
Jason shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Doctor Moone. The question isn’t why they’re using the ley lines. It’s why they’re using these specific ley lines. There are hundreds of them across the face of the planet and many are to be found in cities that don’t act as the regular home of a superhero that could foil their plans. There must be something significant in these places that causes the thieves to risk the ire of the Flash and the Batman.”
June facepalmed in exasperation. “So, really, I’ve spent the last twenty minutes working on a grid that shows us nothing of use.”
Jason’s features formed something akin to sympathy but Mister E was quick to interject. “Yes.”
The archaeologist turned away in exasperation.
Mister E gave little notion to her frustration, acknowledging it wouldn’t make sense of the scattered information that passed so freely through their minds. Five locations: Metropolis, Central City, Ivy Town, Gotham and the Canadian Angelsport. The first four were equally more concerning given they were overseen by superheroic entities. Yet, as June had correctly identified, they were tied together by ancient reservoirs of magic. His mind then shifted towards the peculiar artefact, seemingly a simple box but carrying unknown markings and hunted by a witch. That said, the danger posed by this witch remained unobserved as she had only faced against Blue Devil and Mister E saw no reason to believe him an adequate hero.
The russet-haired demonologist furrowed his brow. “Erik, must you always be so unfeeling?”
“If I were to spend every moment considering my words to protect the tender feelings of Miss Moone I wouldn’t get much done with my days,” replied Mister E absently. “In order to fully grasp this dilemma, we have to become more proactive. I fear that when one magician is stuck with a conundrum, he must seek counsel from others that may be fit to fill in the gaps.” He spoke bluntly yet there was a tone of disdain that traced his words.
Jason’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be suggesting disobeying Garcia?”
“Wait, what?” said June. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, E. If Black Orchid finds out you went out unsupervised, she’s just as likely to kill you as thank you, regardless of what you find. You know that as well as I do.”
“I don’t fear that petulant woman,” scowled the Liverpudlian. “The answers will easily outweigh the perceived risks.”
He turned to face June smugly.
“I intend to go alone, at least for now, but perhaps I’ll find a reason for the witch sooner rather than later.”
June glared. “Not happening. Without Orchid and her threat, there’s no controlling how the witch will act. I won’t put myself or other people at risk. She’s killed enough already without being allowed to run rampant again.”
“If you refuse to do what needs to be done to protect humanity from this threat, Doctor Moone, then what use are you.”
Mister E’s words hit her hard.
Jason interjected so she wasn’t required to. It was a mark of his nature, that of a gentleman, that strove to protect the otherwise fragile vassal of the Enchantress. “There’s no need for that, Erik.” Mister E flinched as the use of his mortal name again, he’d long ago disassociated from it. “Perhaps it would be wiser to remember that each of us were gathered not simply for our . . . unique abilities but also for the knowledge we possessed.”
He cleared his throat.
“I’m a demonologist. June is an archaeologist of renown,” Jason’s eyes narrowed as he reached Mister E. “And you can occasionally read arcane texts that others can’t understand.”
“I’ve made sacrifices in the name of sorcery that you could never understand,” snarled Mister E, his faint Liverpudlian accent thickening. “Make no mistake, I chose the life that you two have stumbled into and I won’t be spoken down to by a pair of rapid dogs. Even if they are kept on their leashes.”
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” June groaned. “You keep proclaiming the fate of the world is at stake and still, here we are, being berated because you see us as lesser than you. Your sacrifices are no reason to be haughty, we understand sacrifice, Mister E. We just also understand the pressure and grief that we feel because we haven’t discarded our humanity. We should be on leashes, all of us, because left unchecked. We’re dangerous.”
Brushing her red hair behind her ears, she seemed stronger and more forceful to them than she had before.
“We’re just as dangerous as what’s coming and as our ranks grow, we get more volatile. We have to be strategic, not reckless.”
“If that’s how you see it,” he replied coolly. “You can feel free to enjoy your life in the kennel, I won’t.”
With a wave of his hand, Mister E summoned a vortex and stepped into it. Disappearing into the aether of his own mysticism.
SHADOWCREST
NEW JERSEY
“Dnib!”
As the swirling vortex faded behind him, iron manacles burst from the walls of the gothic home and clasped at Mister E’s wrists and ankles, slamming him into the brick and mortar with a thud. The Liverpudlian groaned as his eyes searched the murky shadows of what appeared to be, as he’d expected, a vast library. Illuminated only by the raging fire behind her, a beautiful woman sauntered forward. Her eyes, intriguing yet desolate and cold, rested upon his wizened, creased features but her hands were balled into fists, alerting him to the extremes she was prepared to undertake if she perceived him as a threat. Mister E knew of the maiden of magic by association only, he’d never thought her to be more than a simple girl with a knack for parlour tricks but clearly, she’d inherited more of her father’s artistry than he’d given her credit for.
The raven-haired sorceress crossed her arms, displacing the intricately knotted braid that had rested against her breast, as she scowled at him. “One chance. Who are you and how the hell did you manage to find me.”
“You mean how did I locate your impenetrable ivory tower, my dear?” replied the aged sorcerer as drolly as usual. His perception of others always being lesser than himself meant he never saw any individual as interesting enough to warrant his full attention. “I met up with an old associate. I believe you’re fairly well acquainted, John Constantine.” He gave a slight snigger at her expression. “As he’s been here, the location spell was a simple one to muster up.”
“Bastard,” she snarled. “Constantine is such a piece of crap.” Attempting to regain her composure, and the dignity he’d attempted to shatter by bringing up her sexual history with the remarkable rogue that was John Constantine, she persisted. “Now, you can feel free to tell me why it seemed like a good idea to break into my home.”
He replied stoically. “I presumed that would be clear, Zatanna. I’m here to see you. I have need of your assistance in an urgent matter.” He seemed to reconsider his phrasing. “That is, I have need of one of the vast collection of tomes that you and your father have been hoarding from the magical community for decades.” Unconcerned with her reaction or his constrains, his eyes moved to follow the seemingly endless bookshelves. “Perhaps even centuries. Zatara’s always have been greedy.”
“So, you came to my home to insult me and then steal from me,” Zatanna snapped coldly. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” In any other situation, had she not been on the receiving end of his sharp tongue and cruel intentions, Zatanna would have applauded his ballsy move but she wasn’t in the mood to encourage a man who so clearly needed no encouragement. It was clear to see why he was an associate of Constantine. “Rethgit.”
The manacles tightened, pinching at his skin and he turned towards her again. Furious at finding himself degraded by who he considered little more than a parlour maid. “Will you cease with your half-assed backward Atlantean magic,” he scolded. “I’m Mister E and if this is how you treat those that wish to contact you, it’s no wonder your friends in the mystical realm are few and far between.”
“Mystery,” she scoffed, unable to suppress her amusement as the ludicrous name he’d simply presented to her as fact.
Mister E glared. “No, my dear. It seems you might have a hearing issue to match your speech impediment.” He had never been impressed by Atlantean magic, a shallow imitation of the true arts that he’d practiced since his youth. “Mister E. Two words. I’ve come in search of information to stop a threat that might very well soon envelope the world. You portray yourself to be a so-called hero, correct? Try acting like one.”
Zatanna unfolded her arms as she rolled her eyes. “Dnibnu.” The shackles loosened and he marched towards her, rubbing the tender skin her manacles had trapped. “What is this threat then? I’m surprised to find Constantine and his friends are involving themselves in heroics. Normally, you’re all much to self-absorbed.”
“If I knew what I was looking for, dear, I wouldn’t have needed to come here,” he replied sternly. “And I said Constantine was an associate, not a friend. I don’t count very many of those, I’ve much better things to be doing with my time.”
“Shocking,” mocked Zatanna, leaning against a wooden desk. “I’m not sure how I can help you if you don’t even know what you’re looking for. As you can see, we have many tomes and grimoires from throughout history. You could spend a decade in this library and not find an answer.”
He considered her words, knowing her to be correct, he had but a few shoddy images of an artefact etched into his mind and the rumours of a bizarre woman that wished to claim it. Neither seemed to carry discernible trademarks. Yet, it’s importance had to have left a trace on history. Magicians were much like scholars in that they kept meticulous records of the adornments that had passed through their hands, and the properties they contained. Mister E found the time spent with Zatanna almost as tedious as that spent with his so-called dark Justice League. Still, when he’d approached Constantine – who had been very quick to remind him of his sins and turn him away – she had seemed like the best option.
“I’m not running a library, Mister E,” Zatanna continued to lack composure as she muttered his name. “Some of these books are dangerous in the wrong hands. If the world really is at stake then I’m happy to be of assistance because, for better or worse, I have to live in it too but we can’t work with nothing.”
He thought for a moment. “The artefact, a box as it were, had transformative properties. It melded a stunt man into his stage costume, transforming him from an idiot with a death wish to an idiot with a death wish and more power than his feeble brain could hope to understand. It supposedly roused a beast and a witch came to claim it for her own needs.”
“This is starting to sound a lot like incredibly dark magic,” replied the stage magician. “Beasts and witches. Even boxes aren’t so common a vessel for the modern magic user. It sounds to me like you’re dealing with something incredibly ancient.”
“Luckily, we have some rather ancient magic users on retainer to handle it,” he replied.
She shrugged. “You want dark magic, like truly dark magic, then you need to go where even the deadliest of magicians hate going. It sounds to me like your best bet is in the Hall of Hades.”
Zatanna stared at him intently and, as much as he hated to admit it even to himself, Mister E knew that she was right. The Hall of Hades would give them the information they required much quicker than Zatanna’s library, if they could survive facing death personified in his home.
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
“It’s just as I thought,” June announced as she returned to the table with etchings of the five points they’d noticed registered upon a geographical map. She placed it on the table and flattened it. “Each of the cities that seem to be dispelling these magical disturbances fall in the path of ley lines.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not much of a magician, I leave all of that to her, but even I know there’s some folklore about ley lines and magic.”
Mister E nodded. “Dragon lines. Ancient magic.”
Unsatisfied with Mister E’s lack of an explanation, the crimson-haired June looked across her shoulder at Jason expectantly.
“They’re connections between magical sites,” replied the scholar, indulging her curiosity and willingness to learn. Her presence made him feel almost as though he stood a chance at returning to the life to which he’d become accustomed, that of an educator. “Magic is said to run through them. Enough magic that even someone who wasn’t empowered would be able to channel it if they had the correct arcane knowledge.”
She shrugged, a triumphant smile forming on her face. “Well, that’s it then. We have our answer. They’re using the latent magic of these cities to empower whatever it is that the artefact can do.”
Jason shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Doctor Moone. The question isn’t why they’re using the ley lines. It’s why they’re using these specific ley lines. There are hundreds of them across the face of the planet and many are to be found in cities that don’t act as the regular home of a superhero that could foil their plans. There must be something significant in these places that causes the thieves to risk the ire of the Flash and the Batman.”
June facepalmed in exasperation. “So, really, I’ve spent the last twenty minutes working on a grid that shows us nothing of use.”
Jason’s features formed something akin to sympathy but Mister E was quick to interject. “Yes.”
The archaeologist turned away in exasperation.
Mister E gave little notion to her frustration, acknowledging it wouldn’t make sense of the scattered information that passed so freely through their minds. Five locations: Metropolis, Central City, Ivy Town, Gotham and the Canadian Angelsport. The first four were equally more concerning given they were overseen by superheroic entities. Yet, as June had correctly identified, they were tied together by ancient reservoirs of magic. His mind then shifted towards the peculiar artefact, seemingly a simple box but carrying unknown markings and hunted by a witch. That said, the danger posed by this witch remained unobserved as she had only faced against Blue Devil and Mister E saw no reason to believe him an adequate hero.
The russet-haired demonologist furrowed his brow. “Erik, must you always be so unfeeling?”
“If I were to spend every moment considering my words to protect the tender feelings of Miss Moone I wouldn’t get much done with my days,” replied Mister E absently. “In order to fully grasp this dilemma, we have to become more proactive. I fear that when one magician is stuck with a conundrum, he must seek counsel from others that may be fit to fill in the gaps.” He spoke bluntly yet there was a tone of disdain that traced his words.
Jason’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be suggesting disobeying Garcia?”
“Wait, what?” said June. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, E. If Black Orchid finds out you went out unsupervised, she’s just as likely to kill you as thank you, regardless of what you find. You know that as well as I do.”
“I don’t fear that petulant woman,” scowled the Liverpudlian. “The answers will easily outweigh the perceived risks.”
He turned to face June smugly.
“I intend to go alone, at least for now, but perhaps I’ll find a reason for the witch sooner rather than later.”
June glared. “Not happening. Without Orchid and her threat, there’s no controlling how the witch will act. I won’t put myself or other people at risk. She’s killed enough already without being allowed to run rampant again.”
“If you refuse to do what needs to be done to protect humanity from this threat, Doctor Moone, then what use are you.”
Mister E’s words hit her hard.
Jason interjected so she wasn’t required to. It was a mark of his nature, that of a gentleman, that strove to protect the otherwise fragile vassal of the Enchantress. “There’s no need for that, Erik.” Mister E flinched as the use of his mortal name again, he’d long ago disassociated from it. “Perhaps it would be wiser to remember that each of us were gathered not simply for our . . . unique abilities but also for the knowledge we possessed.”
He cleared his throat.
“I’m a demonologist. June is an archaeologist of renown,” Jason’s eyes narrowed as he reached Mister E. “And you can occasionally read arcane texts that others can’t understand.”
“I’ve made sacrifices in the name of sorcery that you could never understand,” snarled Mister E, his faint Liverpudlian accent thickening. “Make no mistake, I chose the life that you two have stumbled into and I won’t be spoken down to by a pair of rapid dogs. Even if they are kept on their leashes.”
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” June groaned. “You keep proclaiming the fate of the world is at stake and still, here we are, being berated because you see us as lesser than you. Your sacrifices are no reason to be haughty, we understand sacrifice, Mister E. We just also understand the pressure and grief that we feel because we haven’t discarded our humanity. We should be on leashes, all of us, because left unchecked. We’re dangerous.”
Brushing her red hair behind her ears, she seemed stronger and more forceful to them than she had before.
“We’re just as dangerous as what’s coming and as our ranks grow, we get more volatile. We have to be strategic, not reckless.”
“If that’s how you see it,” he replied coolly. “You can feel free to enjoy your life in the kennel, I won’t.”
With a wave of his hand, Mister E summoned a vortex and stepped into it. Disappearing into the aether of his own mysticism.
SHADOWCREST
NEW JERSEY
“Dnib!”
As the swirling vortex faded behind him, iron manacles burst from the walls of the gothic home and clasped at Mister E’s wrists and ankles, slamming him into the brick and mortar with a thud. The Liverpudlian groaned as his eyes searched the murky shadows of what appeared to be, as he’d expected, a vast library. Illuminated only by the raging fire behind her, a beautiful woman sauntered forward. Her eyes, intriguing yet desolate and cold, rested upon his wizened, creased features but her hands were balled into fists, alerting him to the extremes she was prepared to undertake if she perceived him as a threat. Mister E knew of the maiden of magic by association only, he’d never thought her to be more than a simple girl with a knack for parlour tricks but clearly, she’d inherited more of her father’s artistry than he’d given her credit for.
The raven-haired sorceress crossed her arms, displacing the intricately knotted braid that had rested against her breast, as she scowled at him. “One chance. Who are you and how the hell did you manage to find me.”
“You mean how did I locate your impenetrable ivory tower, my dear?” replied the aged sorcerer as drolly as usual. His perception of others always being lesser than himself meant he never saw any individual as interesting enough to warrant his full attention. “I met up with an old associate. I believe you’re fairly well acquainted, John Constantine.” He gave a slight snigger at her expression. “As he’s been here, the location spell was a simple one to muster up.”
“Bastard,” she snarled. “Constantine is such a piece of crap.” Attempting to regain her composure, and the dignity he’d attempted to shatter by bringing up her sexual history with the remarkable rogue that was John Constantine, she persisted. “Now, you can feel free to tell me why it seemed like a good idea to break into my home.”
He replied stoically. “I presumed that would be clear, Zatanna. I’m here to see you. I have need of your assistance in an urgent matter.” He seemed to reconsider his phrasing. “That is, I have need of one of the vast collection of tomes that you and your father have been hoarding from the magical community for decades.” Unconcerned with her reaction or his constrains, his eyes moved to follow the seemingly endless bookshelves. “Perhaps even centuries. Zatara’s always have been greedy.”
“So, you came to my home to insult me and then steal from me,” Zatanna snapped coldly. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” In any other situation, had she not been on the receiving end of his sharp tongue and cruel intentions, Zatanna would have applauded his ballsy move but she wasn’t in the mood to encourage a man who so clearly needed no encouragement. It was clear to see why he was an associate of Constantine. “Rethgit.”
The manacles tightened, pinching at his skin and he turned towards her again. Furious at finding himself degraded by who he considered little more than a parlour maid. “Will you cease with your half-assed backward Atlantean magic,” he scolded. “I’m Mister E and if this is how you treat those that wish to contact you, it’s no wonder your friends in the mystical realm are few and far between.”
“Mystery,” she scoffed, unable to suppress her amusement as the ludicrous name he’d simply presented to her as fact.
Mister E glared. “No, my dear. It seems you might have a hearing issue to match your speech impediment.” He had never been impressed by Atlantean magic, a shallow imitation of the true arts that he’d practiced since his youth. “Mister E. Two words. I’ve come in search of information to stop a threat that might very well soon envelope the world. You portray yourself to be a so-called hero, correct? Try acting like one.”
Zatanna unfolded her arms as she rolled her eyes. “Dnibnu.” The shackles loosened and he marched towards her, rubbing the tender skin her manacles had trapped. “What is this threat then? I’m surprised to find Constantine and his friends are involving themselves in heroics. Normally, you’re all much to self-absorbed.”
“If I knew what I was looking for, dear, I wouldn’t have needed to come here,” he replied sternly. “And I said Constantine was an associate, not a friend. I don’t count very many of those, I’ve much better things to be doing with my time.”
“Shocking,” mocked Zatanna, leaning against a wooden desk. “I’m not sure how I can help you if you don’t even know what you’re looking for. As you can see, we have many tomes and grimoires from throughout history. You could spend a decade in this library and not find an answer.”
He considered her words, knowing her to be correct, he had but a few shoddy images of an artefact etched into his mind and the rumours of a bizarre woman that wished to claim it. Neither seemed to carry discernible trademarks. Yet, it’s importance had to have left a trace on history. Magicians were much like scholars in that they kept meticulous records of the adornments that had passed through their hands, and the properties they contained. Mister E found the time spent with Zatanna almost as tedious as that spent with his so-called dark Justice League. Still, when he’d approached Constantine – who had been very quick to remind him of his sins and turn him away – she had seemed like the best option.
“I’m not running a library, Mister E,” Zatanna continued to lack composure as she muttered his name. “Some of these books are dangerous in the wrong hands. If the world really is at stake then I’m happy to be of assistance because, for better or worse, I have to live in it too but we can’t work with nothing.”
He thought for a moment. “The artefact, a box as it were, had transformative properties. It melded a stunt man into his stage costume, transforming him from an idiot with a death wish to an idiot with a death wish and more power than his feeble brain could hope to understand. It supposedly roused a beast and a witch came to claim it for her own needs.”
“This is starting to sound a lot like incredibly dark magic,” replied the stage magician. “Beasts and witches. Even boxes aren’t so common a vessel for the modern magic user. It sounds to me like you’re dealing with something incredibly ancient.”
“Luckily, we have some rather ancient magic users on retainer to handle it,” he replied.
She shrugged. “You want dark magic, like truly dark magic, then you need to go where even the deadliest of magicians hate going. It sounds to me like your best bet is in the Hall of Hades.”
Zatanna stared at him intently and, as much as he hated to admit it even to himself, Mister E knew that she was right. The Hall of Hades would give them the information they required much quicker than Zatanna’s library, if they could survive facing death personified in his home.
ISSUE #2 (October 2018)
Written by Gavin McMahon Featuring: Black Orchid
Blue Devil
Doctor Fate
Mister E
Silver Banshee
Nightshade
John Peril
Strega
Bagman
Jack of Fire
Jason Blood
June Moon
White Rabbit
Zatanna
Hades
Sister Shadow
|
"Peril of the Pentacle - Part Two"THE BLACK ROOM, ARGUS
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION “And where exactly have you been? Is this how Garcia is running this unit, allowing criminals and detainees to run rampant across the planet?” Mister E returned via vortex to find himself face-to-face with a clearly irate John Peril. Both Jason and June seemed stilted in their movements and expressions, forceful creatures wrangled by a man who wasn’t worthy to possess them. In truth, Mister E was surprised that his so-called colleagues hadn’t yet turned him in to their superior. Still, had Black Orchid returned in his absence, the Liverpudlian had been deliberately vague with his intentions. Zatanna had offered little in the way of information but her suggestion had given him pause for thought. He knew the action they would next need to take in their pursuit of knowledge, the dangerous venture to the realm of Hades, but Peril wasn’t a man he respected or felt obliged to answer to. Before Mister E could summon a sarcastic response, the ever-diplomatic Jason intervened. “I’m not sure how much we can feasibly achieve if we’re not to be left without a minder for more than an hour. It’s a hindrance, Peril, not a help.” It didn’t take a man of intelligence to realise that, despite the career he’d chosen, Peril was a man uncomfortable in the realm of magic. Although, at times, it seemed to be more of a hatred than a discomfort. Word had quickly spread amongst the members of the so-called Justice League Dark of how he had treated the interview of Blue Devil as an interrogation at best and a witch-hunt at worst. Jason had lived since the days of Merlin and the Knights of the Roundtable. He’d seen hatred and bigotry in all its forms. “This is far from the last of it,” Peril muttered as he stormed off. Their eyes were quickly torn from the rampaging agent of ARGUS by the actions of Mister E. “What are you doing?” enquired June, cocking her red brows as the white-clad wizard began to summon a vortex. Mister E seemed as if he was planning to ignore her question, deigning it as idiotic, but he relented. “We’re going on a trip. You won’t need a jacket. I promise.” It was a moment of levity that caught them off-guard. “A trip?” she sighed. “It’s clear you missed the lecture we just got. Peril might be gone but you can be sure as hell he’s gonna be keeping an eye on us after your little break for the border. He’ll be watching us on the cameras within the hour,” June leant back in the seat, defiant, her eyes flitting towards the cameras. “You think he was bad, just wait until Orchid finds out.” “Where you always such a wimp or has this place actually managed to tame the goddess that shares your soul?” “I’m not worried about my soul,” June spat. “I’m worried about what’ll happen if she destroys that witch’s heart. For all I know, I’ll die just as well as she will. I’m fond of living, thank you very much.” Mister E turned to Jason. “I assume you’re out too.” “No,” he replied. Peril’s lecture had riled him. “I could use the walk.” June flailed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He hasn’t even said where he’s going and you’re just going to jump on the bandwagon.” “Hades,” stated Mister E. “If you must know.” He stepped into the vortex, followed by Jason and, inevitably, the mild-mannered June. It faded into nothingness and they were gone. CENTRAL CITY “Unhand me, you fork-tongued fiend,” snarled Silver Banshee as she bound from the grasp of Blue Devil and hovered in the air above them menacingly. The platinum sheen of her hair flashed beneath the streetlights as she came to a stop ahead of the stuntman, the hiss of her words echoing openly. She was the walking embodiment of death, the wailing wonder of the Infernal realm, and her eyes carried all the hatred that had once warped her soul. Black Orchid, stood slightly behind Blue Devil, watched the majestic force of death. Mister E had frequently been the bane of her existence, pompous and disagreeable, but his instinct in selecting the woman had been unparalleled. It had added another detainee to ARGUS’s repertoire and given another asset at her disposal. The soldier turned agent of ARGUS was content with that, even if Silver Banshee was more of a wildcard than she’d bargained for. “Calm down.” Silver Banshee turned towards her. “I take no orders from a sprig of the swamp or any other creature that dreams of controlling me.” “This isn’t control. At least, it’s not fully about that,” bargained Black Orchid. “ARGUS can offer you resources you never thought of before and opportunities that would never have darkened your door. You’re very far from the Infernal Realm now, my dear, and life in this one is about giving so you can take. Clearly a woman such as yourself will understand that.” The banshee screeched. “I will not be held in your gilded cage.” “There’ll be nothing to loot from banks if there’s not a world left after this threat,” said Blue Devil. “Leave this to me,” chastised Black Orchid. “That opportunity I mentioned? I hold your grimoire.” “What?” snarled the wailing wonder. “Did I stutter?” replied Orchid. “I have the grimoire you’ve been seeking. It wasn’t money you thought was hidden in the bank, was it? Your search for the book, the Leabhar Báis, is in the vaults of ARGUS. Do as your told and I’ll hand it over to you.” The banshee laughed, her Irish brogue becoming thicker. “Hand it over? Just like that? It is not yours to hand over. It belongs to the Crone and she alone.” Black Orchid shrugged. “Well, I have it. It’s my offer.” The two seemed to be prepared to square against one another as a golden helmeted youth was thrown across the street and into the brick wall amidst the shattering sound of bricks. Even Silver Banshee seemed mildly intrigued, particularly as a slithering green mass moved through the darkness of the alleyway and into the open. The youth seemed to struggle against its approach, his hands intricately weaving an auric shield. The mass took an almost humanoid appearance, much akin to the Michelin man, as he stepped across the openness of the street. “I think we found our threat,” said Black Orchid. “Yeah, but which one?” growled Blue Devil as he summoned his golden trident. “Probably the one attacking,” snapped Silver Banshee with a roll of her eyes. “Before you ask, this isn’t my fight. Even if you are in possession of my birth-right.” Black Orchid, simply stunned that Silver Banshee had yet to bolt for freedom, and Blue Devil marched towards the creature without further complaint. Outstretching her hands, palms opened, Black Orchid summoned the earth itself to her whim. Vines, the same shade of lavender as the second-skin that stretched across her body, burst through the tarmac and launched towards the green beast. Blue Devil, trident held high, launched into the air to strike. Bagman turned, shocked, as their assaults stampeded his malleable body, splattering it across the street. “That was easy,” Blue Devil grinned broadly, leaning on his trident. Black Orchid narrowed her eyes. “Too easy.” She spun on her heels to face the helmeted youth as he attempted to, gracelessly, regain his composure. “You, boy. What’s the meaning of this?” staring at his gaudy helmet and evidently homemade costume, complete with flowing cape, she seemed to view him with distaste. “Who are you supposed to be?” “Doctor Fate,” he announced proudly, if not triumphantly. “I’m the newest Master of Order! At least, that’s what the guy in the helmet said before he went a bit quiet. Not that I miss him. He droned on something fierce. The silence is appreciated.” The youth continued to babble. “Still, I thought he might have helped with the jelly man.” Silver Banshee hovered towards them. Black Orchid continued. “The jelly man? Who is he? And what does he want that involves you?” “Nothing,” said the youth, holding his hands up and feigning surrender. “I just saw it happening and had to get involved. I have to live in this city and Nabu told me that it’s my job to keep magic in line. I was just doing that. Well, sort of. I was trying but I think I might have bitten off more than I could chew. His body was always just–” “Shut up,” snapped Black Orchid as she frowned at him. His voice and endless ranting was getting on her nerves. As they argued, no-one noticed the smudges of green moving back towards one another and melding into the now recognisable form of Bagman. Without waiting for their attention, Bagman thrust his malleable body forward and collided with the hovering Silver Banshee. As she rolled across the street, the Ataxian took her position and slapped the confused Black Orchid across the street and through a shop window. Blue Devil was the first member of the so-called Justice League Dark who had the opportunity to defend himself. Bagman shot forward, but the demon drove the golden-pronged trident into his stomach, hoisting the gelatinous creature above his head and throwing him into the distance. Doctor Fate, younger and more inexperienced than any of them could have imagined or hoped, sprung to his feet. As Bagman returned, the magician was already twisting his yellow gloved hands in the air rapidly and he shot forth a burst of golden energy that the struck Bagman’s shoulder, disintegrating it, but the Ataxian remained otherwise unharmed. Blue Devil caught the youth and pulled him from another collision as shattering glass sounded behind them. Black Orchid reappeared, standing on the window pane, as she created a blast of lilac vines. They wormed from the earth and wrapped around Bagman, but his body shifted and slithered until he was once again free. A singular bounce caused him to crash in front of her, his body expanded and forced her back into the darkness. High above him, the Silver Banshee had made this her fight, even if she’d previously been reluctant to accept the role that she’d been offered. Menacingly staring down upon him, Silver Banshee shrieked. The sound emitted from her throat echoed through the closed street, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass and car alarms. She also seemed to be the first whose attack had a genuine effect on the man. Bagman’s hands shot to his ears and his form shivered and shifted uncontrollably as the sonic wave struck him. Doctor Fate slipped forward, his hands waving in the hope that he create a catchment spell. Doctor Fate’s spell interacted strangely with the sonic energies surrounding the Ataxian and it exploded, shooting through the air and crashing into Silver Banshee. She fell from the air, clasped in golden chains. “Oh shit,” muttered Doctor Fate. Blue Devil’s eyes were wide. “You got that right. Stand down, kid. You aren’t helping.” The reinvigorated Bagman slammed forward as Orchid launched from the window. She landed with a crash, striking her fist against the pavement and cracking it. Her eyes looked furiously ahead. Bagman had turned his focus to Doctor Fate, his pale green hands catching the golden cape and launching the sorcerer into a wall. Stumbling backwards, Fate mumbled something incoherent before he collapsed beside the writhing form of the trapped Silver Banshee. Bagman’s elongated fist slammed into Orchid as she rolled thunderously into the nearby trashcan. Blue Devil could hear her groaning in pain as she rushed forward, trident cast forward. Bagman avoided each of his attack, his body stretching and slipping from each strike. Still, Blue Devil continued to fight valiantly. Bagman seemed impervious to physical damage, his body just rematerialized when it had become damaged. Their duel took them into the side streets where Black Orchid had been tossed. Bagman caught the trident as Blue Devil forced it into his stomach, bouncing backwards it was torn from the stunt man’s hands. He was slammed into the wall by the Ataxian, Bagman malevolently thread the longest prong across his skin as blood formed. Two onyx bursts shot from the darkness, striking Bagman on the side of his head and throwing him into a wall, as a woman dressed in a purple bustier and skirt flew towards them. Her dark hair bounded around her shoulders while she landed, extending her hand and hoisting the monstrous Blue Devil to his feet. He considered her heart-shaped face for a moment, being drawn into her glowing eyes that where outlined by a domino mask, and he gave a curt, respectful smile as a way of thanks. He felt embarrassed to be saved, as Blue Devil he’d been active on the streets for several weeks and had felt proficient. When surrounded with larger threats and more experienced magic users, Blue Devil understood what it felt like to be a fraud. He wasn’t part of this world, not naturally. “I owe you one,” said the stuntman. “That could’ve gotten really messy if you hadn’t shown up. I’ve never seen something like that before.” “Of course, you haven’t,” said Nightshade matter-of-factly. “I doubt you’ve ever stumbled across an actual Ataxian before this. Their kingdom fell thousands of years ago.” Black Orchid, indignant that she’d been thrown from her footing and crawling from the trash, stepped forward. “What’s an Ataxian?” “A kingdom of magic users from the beginning of time, culturally advanced but they disappeared around the same time as the coming of Christ,” the woman addressed the answer as Orchid noted her words and the cross that rested against her chest. She wasn’t sure if the woman was proclaiming Christ has been responsible for this so-called kingdom’s fall. “They were powerful but destroyed in a war with Atlantis. Or, they seemed to be destroyed. It seems they may have survived, assimilating into the world around them.” Blue Devil interjected. “And this is their attempt at a comeback tour?” “It seems so. They’re more powerful than they should be, especially with these decimated ranks.” “Rats have an incredible ability to survive in the face of danger,” replied Silver Banshee in a low growl, finally freed from the unconscious Fate’s spell and carrying him in her arms. “Who are you?” asked Orchid. The woman offered a brief smile. “Nightshade. I’m from a realm that has a personal history with the Ataxian kingdom and the threat has returned so I’ve been sent to this world as an emissary. A war is coming, and Selena means to bring it as soon as she can.” Black Orchid glowered. “So, you know what all of this means. You can help us end it.” “Theoretically,” replied Nightshade. “I doubt anyone know what all of this means but I know enough to see the role that I have to play. It seems like you could us all the help you could get.” “You’re coming with us,” snapped Black Orchid. She looked affronted. Blue Devil stepped in, determined to diffuse a hostile situation before it worsened, and their so-called leader chased off their only leader. “Will you help us? Please.” Nightshade sighed before nodding, with a swirl of her hand the shadows burst to life in a circling motion. “Where are we going?” THE HALL OF HADES The threesome of magical investigators stared with varying expressions at the heavily bolted door that towered above them. Mister E, despite his usual calm and composed demeanour, seemed mildly in awe of its majesty. Jason appeared to recognise the entryway for exactly what it was, a cage that housed some of the most sinister and fatal dark magic known to mankind and beyond. June simply seemed hesitant to move any further. Still, as he had expected, Mister E could feel the fluctuation of his mystical powers as he approached the door. In a realm as ancient as this, housing such potent sorcery, a magician could easily be overcome by this swelling of power but a man such of himself was excited by the opportunity it allowed him. This was the raw force he’d always dreamed of. “Are we gonna stand here all day?” enquired June, her arms folded across her bed and exemplifying her discomfort. “We should make a move.” “You might regret the rush when you face what lies behind that door, Doctor Moone,” replied Jason cryptically. Mister E looked across his shoulder. “Any chance your little friends might be making an appearance or am I to be stuck with you two wannabes for the venture we’re about to face?” They both scowled, indignant and unwilling to answer, but he shrugged and paced forward. Pale energy stretched across the door as the bolts audibly shifted and unlocked. It swung open, affording them their first sight of the fabled Hall of Hades. It was a dimply little hallway, flickering torches lined the walls and offered only a semblance of clear vision. Still, undeterred, Mister E and Jason forged onward with June soon to follow on their heels. As they turned and twisted into the depths of Hades, they were made uneasy by the corpses and souls that lined the walls in eternal torment. It was harrowing to bear witness too. Soon, the trio found themselves in the improved lighting of what appeared to be an ancient, abandoned library. June reached out, curiously drawing a book from the lines of shelves and blowing the dust from it as she flicked through the pages. It was in a language she couldn’t interpret, she’d never even seen it before. Jason cleared his throat, catching her attention and ushering her to stay with them. She sprinted forward, closing the gap between them. She was somewhat excited by the sheer amount of information around her. “So, how are we gonna do this? There’s a lot of books here. It seems like we’re still firmly in the fryer at this point.” “A location spell?” suggested Jason. Mister E shook his head. “We don’t know what we’re locating so that won’t work. I’m going to conjure a memory and allow it to act as a guide. It’ll lead us to the information it relates too.” Jason’s jaw slackened. “Isn’t that a little advanced for an earth-bound magician? You could fracture your mind in the process.” “Can’t you feel it? The power of this place? We’re not who we were here. We’re so much more,” mused the Liverpudlian. “If there’s ever a time to dive into the arcane then it’s this.” He hunched on the ground, taking a meditative pose before shutting his eyes. White energies carried him several inches above the floor as the other two were forced to watch. “This will leave him defenceless,” remarked the occultist. June shrugged at Jason’s concerned expression. “It’s his choice. If whatever this is kills him then he’ll learn from the lesson and if it doesn’t . . . well, there’ll probably be no living with him.” “Who goes there?” The voice boomed from the entrance they’d passed through and they spun towards it. June exhaled lightly, attempting to remain quiet but even she could hear the magical hum that echoed in the room, a remnant of Mister E’s ongoing incantation. Reactionarily, the archaeologist was almost tempted to invoke the powers of the Enchantress, the witch drawling in her mind for freedom in exchange for protecting her mortal host, but June refused to give in, even as the fear washed over her. Jason, to her left, seemed to be considering the same option as the eight-foot, red-skinned God of the Underworld turned the corner and stared down upon them. A white ball of light appeared atop Mister E’s head. It took many shapes at first, swirling from one to reveal another, but then it settled on the intricate design of the box before shooting off and disappearing amongst the seemingly endless book shelves. As Hades angrily stampeded toward them, Jason summoned a fiery ball of energy and tossed it toward him. The God swatted it away. June was shocked to see that Mister E remained completely catatonic, transfixed on the spell he was casting. Jason summoned another ball of fire and launched it. He called to her. “June, follow that light. Get the book! I’ll protect Erik.” June rushed into the book shelves, Hades’ hand almost caught her as she made her escape. Jason attempted to regain his focus so that June would have time to complete the task he’d set for her. As Etrigan, he was powerful, but Jason hadn’t lived his dual life without learning a little magic of his own. Granted, he preferred to be a mediator between those who required an occult investigator, but he saw the necessity of battle when the time called for it. “You would come to my home and dredge through my belongings,” screamed Hades, thundering towards him. “It’s not a mistake you’ll make again.” With a flourish, Jason managed to teleport himself and Mister E from the God’s path. He could already feel the magical exertion overcoming him. Still, the Demon would be uncontrollable in a place of such potent mysticism. It wasn’t a risk he could take. He simply hoped that June had the sense not invoke the Enchantress either. Securing Mister E in the rows of books, Jason moved into the open, his russet hair seemed redder against the fire light. He outstretched his hands, almost as if in surrender, and walked towards the angered Hades. Unaware but far from blissful, June surged through the books following the quickly moving burst of light. It was growing fainter by the moment. She attempted to keep track of it but she had to admit she was struggling to do so. It had been far too long since the archaeologist had seen the inside of a gym, June wasn’t even sure she clearly remembered what a treadmill looked like. Still, she persisted to the best of her ability and hoped with all of her might that it would be good enough. Using the corner of a shelve, she pulled herself around the corner and slammed headfirst into the light that temporarily dissipated before reforming. It simply hovered in front of the rows of books but made no effort to identify her target. Haphazardly, June pulled them from the shelve and began flicking through them in the hope of finding her target. An explosion briefly caught her attention, but she returned to the texts, checking for images she could recognise, and all too aware that she was running out of time. Even Jason Blood couldn’t stand up to a God. Thrown backwards by the explosion, Jason wearily jumped to his feet. He could’ve swore he heard Mister E yelp in pain, but the man was as transfixed on his task as ever. Summoning another sphere of fire, Jason stepped forward with all the decorum one would expect from him. “Is this really how you want to do this, Lord Hades,” he called out so that he could be heard. “There’s no need to exert any more energy than you have already. My friends and I will be on our way.” Hades chortled. “No-one leaves Hades without my permission and I will hang you from the walls by your entrails, petty wizard. Then I shall skin your friends and have them join you. That is the law of this realm for trespassers.” “Ah,” sighed Jason. “Well then, it seems there’s choice in the matter and no rest for the wicked.” He cast another blast of fire, aware that he was only a distraction and buying time. Thankfully, he watched as June appeared behind the God with an arcane text in her hands. She was nodding as she tried to manoeuvre around Hades, but she caught his attention. He reached for her, or perhaps the book she carried, and was almost about to succeed when a white blast of energy crashed into him and tossed him backwards. Jason turned to find Mister E standing imperiously, as if he had never been the reason they’d placed themselves in mortal danger. “I think our visit is over,” he announced, leading the charge as the trio ran for freedom. METROPOLIS “Shouldn’t the rodent be here,” growled the fearsome red-fleshed Jack of Fire, brimstone billowing from his throat with each word. Even the black scarf that covered the lower portion of the demon’s face couldn’t contain his raw, natural power. He stared haughtily towards the delicate and exotic woman who led them. His tone challenged her. “Isn’t your little pet to play a role in what we hope to achieve?” Selena, the rightful Queen of the fallen Ataxia who was better known as Strega, refused to rise to his bait. He was constantly goading her, hoping she would slip into hysteria and lose the position that had been passed to her through her ancient lineage. Selena was proving to even-tempered for him. “Bagman is otherwise preoccupied. His attendance is not pertinent.” “An honour bestowed to a select few then?” Selena and Jack of Fire turned to the find the pale-skinned, white-haired Sister Shadow leaning against the door frame of the ornate room. Her brother the White Rabbit, marked by similar hues of alabaster, was hovering behind her. Both moved into the light of the cathedral stained glass windows, their steps were as silent as a wraith and it was a reminder that they were two of the greatest assassin’s in existence. “Cadence, Carter,” Selena smiled broadly as she ushered them in, every movement chosen to represent her regal majesty. “Welcome, I’m so glad that you’ve finally made it. You’ve been doing excellent work with establishing our seats of power in Gotham and Angelsport. You are a proud legacy to the Clan of Light.” “My queen,” bowed White Rabbit, his movements less elegant than his sister’s. He reminded Selena of the jesters that had once performed for her in the royal courts of Ataxia. Even his gesture was exaggerated. Sister Shadow was less impressed, and none too willing to curtsy regardless of the praise she received. “The posturing isn’t necessary, brother. We’re soldiers in the Queen’s war, not puppets. Why have we been summoned? Are we finally ready to begin with the ritual to return the Dark Lord to his rightful place and raise Ataxia in his honour?” “Nearly,” smiled Selena coyly. She ignored the general looks of frustration and disdain. “As some of you will be aware, there have been hindrances to the plan as we’ve progressed. I saw them first hand when I battled the so-called Blue Devil to gain control of the box.” She cleared her throat. “It would appear that he has since allied himself with others within the magical community, individuals who could threaten all of our hard work.” “Then we exterminate them,” snarled Sister Shadow. “That’s what I said,” began Jack of Fire but he was silenced by the glare of his queen. Selena continued as if she had never been interrupted. “There have been movements within this organisation for a long time and I have managed to place a plan in motion that will give me a chance to distract these wannabes without them harming any of you. My plan only works when all of us are working in unison. I can’t take the risk. There must be five.” White Rabbit furrowed his brow. “I may be miscalculating but there’s only four. If Bagman is preoccupied, then where is Kid Karnevil?” He almost shuddered at the youth’s name. He was none too fond of him. “Continuing his work on Ivy Town but I will summon him too,” replied Selena nonchalantly. “I thought it was best that some of the more level-headed adults have a chance to discuss things first. For now, all three of you are to remain inside the enchantments of this cathedral. No harm will come to you here and, when the time comes, we will raise Ataxia and rule the world as was our birth-right.” They nodded, some more reluctantly than others. THE BLACK ROOM, ARGUS UNDISCLOSED LOCATION “I just want to make sure I’m understanding this correctly,” stated Black Orchid as she stared down the woman who’d just assisted them in the battle against Bagman. “You’re a princess turned protectress of an ancient realm in another dimension who was born on Earth but discovered your birth-right? So, naturally, you’ve chosen to fight crime in a bustier and skirt? Am I getting that right?” Nightshade, or Eve Eden as she had identified herself in a display of trust since arriving at ARGUS, glowered with her arms folded. No-one knew that peculiarities of her tale seemed like the long-winded dreams of an Arkham inmate as well as she did but the truth couldn’t be proven in a heartbeat, it had to be taken with a pinch of faith that Black Orchid was clearly in desperately short supply of. As Eve’s eyes moved around the room, from the glowing helmet of a college student turned Lord of Order to the blue-skinned stunt man and finally to the white-faced banshee, she struggled to comprehend why her tale should be considered ludicrous. Black Orchid was herself an oddity, Eve could sense the remnants of the Green clinging tightly to the fragile body hidden beneath her costume. She shrugged. “Well, yes. Although, a little less sarcasm probably wouldn’t go amiss considering I just risked my ass to get you all out of a difficult situation. As far as I can tell, I’m also the only person here whose provided any actual information that you can use. Without me, you wouldn’t even know that Ataxia had ever existed. Never mind that it’s last remaining heir is plotting against this planet.” Pouting like a petulant child, Eve was reminded of the arguments she’d had with her father after taking the mantle of Nightshade. Authoritarians had always rubbed her the wrong way. “I’d say a thank you would be more appropriate but I can see I shouldn’t hold my breath.” Black Orchid stifled a laugh. “I’m not going to thank you for doing the job you signed up to do. I didn’t recruit your ass, you chose this all on your own.” Her words were fierce. “You needn’t think we’re involving ourselves in some interdimensional war either. If it doesn’t affect Earth or our reality, the League isn’t here to deal with it. We fight for our own, I suggest you do the same.” “So, you don’t want my help then?” asked Eve snidely, already aware of the answer. No answer was needed as the swirling white vortex opened, thrusting the trio of magical investigators into the centre of the room. Black Orchid was so furious at their lack of respect for her direct orders that she failed to notice the ancient grimoire June held as she launched into her tirade, laced with expletives. Next in Justice League Dark: They know of Ataxia! They have the resources to discover Selena’s plot! Still, when one of their own is turned against them, are they any match for the unadulterated power of the Enchantress? |