Hall of Justice, Metropolis
To most the grandiose architecture and graceful arches of the ‘Hall of Justice’ was a symbol of hope and power dedicated to saving the unfortunate and downtrodden people of the world, and on occasion the entire planet as well. And while the artefacts and exhibits on the League’s history and victories were always big crowd pleasers, the reason the majority of the public came to this part of Metropolis was to get a glimpse of their heroes. So, it was not unusual that there was a huge crowd of people milling around on the steps outside, or looking half-heartedly at the latest exhibit detailing the exploits of Superman’s victory against the villainous General Zod or any of the other monuments to their heroes, as it was the heroes themselves they were looking for.
Oliver Queen didn’t feel like a hero as he moved, unnoticed through the crowd to the maximum-security area that acted as the nerve centre of the League’s operation, rather he felt dirty, that his actions just over a year ago were still fresh and tarnishing the very hall he walked through. Even through his suspension period was almost over, his actions over the Prometheus affair were still very much remembered here as much as they were in Star City.
In the end, Oliver had taken the decision that no-one else would suffer, like the League or indeed the families of the ninety-one people the masked menace had taken the life of, and had ended Prometheus life with a single shot. Pausing in his chain of thought, he covertly swiped his access card against the scanner and waited for the door to open, knowing that the crowd wouldn’t bat an eye-lid to a man in jeans and a shirt walking through a door. As he left the public behind, he went back to his thoughts, in the end he’d been suspended by the League by two votes to five, with only Wonder Woman and Hawkman supporting his actions he’d taken the night before.
“Hi, stranger.” An almost purring voice stated, jarring Oliver from his thoughts. Their leaning in the door that led to the training room was his long-time girlfriend Dinah Lance known more publicly as Black Canary dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank-top, a towel draped round her neck. “What brings you to these parts?”
“Not the food.” Oliver replied as he wrapped his arms round Dinah and kissed her. “Still I heard a pretty bird calling me, and decided to come up and see her.” He added, as Dinah snorted a little laugh and stroked Oliver’s face.
“You didn’t shave this morning Ollie.” Dinah sighed as they uncoupled from each other and walked across the hall to the locker room.
“Blame that on Slingshot deciding to throw stones in glass houses.” Oliver replied as Dinah sat down on one of the benches in the room and opened a full-length locker containing the sheer tights, leather jacket and bustier of her heroic persona. “He was targeting the Ideal Home and Garden Show at the Tinder-Smith Convention Centre. Luckily nobody was hurt that much and…” He stopped as Dinah slipped off her tank-top and removed the towel from her neck. “Should I leave or…”
“Ollie, we’ve been dating for years, you don’t have to leave.” Dinah replied, a crooked smile appearing on her lips as she saw her boyfriend blushing.
“I know, it just feels with you here and me in Star City that we don’t really spend any time together.” Oliver sighed as Dinah slipped her bustier on. “I mean when did we last go on a date or just spend time together.”
“Last week when the League escorted the convoy carrying Multiplex to Iron Heights.” Dinah answered as she slipped off her trainers and shorts.
“Most of our dates don’t involve Hawkman and GL riding shotgun.” Oliver stated as he turned away from his fiancé. “Look let’s not discuss this now, I know my glorious return is going to be overshadowed by this Watchtower business and I don’t want to be grumpy about two things today.”
“You still don’t approve?” Dinah asked as she pulled her tights on, and slipped a pair of ankle high boots on over them.
“No, I support working closer with the police and everything, I support bringing in new heroes…what I don’t support is this expansion. Sure, it starts out all innocent and is about helping everyone, but what happens if there’s a coup in the nation we’re stationed in.” Oliver announced as his girlfriend pulled her jacket on over her bustier. “Who do we support, do we even get involved and if we do, what’s to stop the League from taking over. We all know transitional governments have a way of making themselves a permanent fixture, and I just worry the League, if pushed will act in the same way. This Watchtower Network we’re unveiling…it’s too much power for any one body to have and it will be the end of the League, maybe not today, maybe not even soon but eventually it will be the thing that destroys us.”
“Oliver, I personally support the League’s expansion, everyone in the League does.” Dinah replied as she stood up and glowered at her boyfriend. “We’re not some government, some evil corporation trying to take advantage of people, and if you feel that we are, then why are you re-joining the League?” She asked as she pushed past Oliver and headed into the hallway.
“I thought that would be obvious.” Oliver whispered as he pulled out a ring-box from his jeans and watched the woman he loved walk-away. “I’m joining for you.”
# # # # #
Meeting Room, Hall of Justice, Metropolis
J’onn J’onzz AKA the Martian Manhunter sat patiently as the other members of the Justice League arrived and took their places round the round table that sat at the heart of the Hall of Justice. Salvaged from the headquarters of the Justice of Society, the table stood for the core values of the League and its predecessor, as much as those who sat around it. And yet many of the seats remained vacant, although none were as painful as the one once occupied by Hawkgirl, the first and only member of the League to die in action, in this case at the hands of Prometheus in his attack on the hall.
“Does anyone have any outstanding matters they want to address?” J’onn asked as he placed his green hand on the table. “Or can I begin with the final figures and estimations for the unveiling of the Watchtower Network?”
“Actually I have something to bring to the table?” Superman stated as he slid a computer tablet across to the centre of the table. “This is one of my foes Neutron, and as you know, yesterday Diana and I fought him, only for him to escape leaving behind an energy signature. I had my suspicions and confirmed them at the Fortress. Neutron accessed the Phantom Zone to make his escape.” He added as the tablet projected a readout of the readings given off by Neutron’s departure. “It appears as a white energy that collapses in on itself rapidly.”
“Could Neutron access the Phantom Zone with his powers by giving off the right wavelength?” Hawkman asked as he shot a long look at Hawkgirl’s empty chair.
“Possibly, he can access a number of wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum.” Batman replied as he tapped something on his gauntlet, the energy calculations shifting upwards to show a map of the United States. “If it was just him then it would be less concerning then the current situation.” He announced as four areas on the map were highlighted in red. “As well as the Metropolis breach, there have been three other instances where super villains were teleported away by white energy discharges. In Gotham a GCPD informant in Killer Croc’s gang reported that Croc disappeared during a briefing for an armoured car heist, while just outside Central City, Tar Pit vanished from his cell in Iron Heights. And it could be said that Los Angeles District Attorney Kate Spencer owes her life to this energy when the assassin Mayfly was teleported away after she ran her targets car off the road.”
“They’re not exactly major threats.” John Stewart stated as holographic profiles of Neutron, Mayfly, Tar Pit and Killer Croc appeared next to each of the incursions. “At least not separately, but this seems like someone is bringing together another Secret Society. And there could also be more villains taken that we still haven’t been reported. Problem is not a lot of people have access to the Phantom Zone.”
“As far as I know, the only surviving Phantom Zone projector remains under lock and key in the Fortress of Solitude.” Superman stated as the holograms merged together to form a whirlwind of light and figures as it spiralled back down into the tablet. “Although we never found the Ghost Key that was in Prometheus’s custody, even chased down the leads to his associates such as Slade Wilson, Chad Graham and David Clinton in the hopes he passed one of them the key, but none of them even knew about it.”
“The solution will reveal itself, for now I will task the Leagues satellites with tracking any blooms of Phantom Zone energy.” J’onn J’onzz replied, as the hologram of the United States suddenly re-emerged with flashing red sections across the map.
“That was quick.” Diana stated.
“I haven’t done it yet.” Jonzz stated as the map split to focus on the readings. “Perhaps Clark had decided…” He stopped as Superman shook his head. “Curious then, go, attend to these breaches, I will determine who and how someone gained access to the satellite network.” He announced, as the other member of the League scrambled to get back to their home cities. As they left J’onn wondered who or what had reset the satellites to search for such energy readings and whether they were friend of foe to the League. While it would be nice to assume the former, his long life had made him cynical and he suspected that everything happening now was part of a long dormant plan of grandiose proportions and if left unchecked, an unhappy end for the Justice League and all they stood for.
# # # # #
Maintenance Bay, Hall of Justice, Metropolis
For all its complexities and supposed energy independence from the Metropolis Power Grid, the Hall of Justice relied on its host city to power its redundancies. Said redundancies were in the form of a pair of marine diesel generators with enough wattage to power a city block, maybe even two. Every half year the diesel was siphoned out and switched for more climate acceptable fuel. Due to a supposed error the switchover was scheduled for the day of the unveiling of the Watchtower Network, so the League had leaned on the city to perform the switchover early, with the promise that the family of the tanker driver and support crew would be awarded front row seats to the announcements. And do Joe Ramone found himself working on his day off with the mother of all throat aches on a blustery October afternoon.
“Give me another thirty meters of hose Mick.” He wheezed as he snaked the cable down some stairs and into the basement where his buddies Len and Sam were removing the fuel caps of the massive generators. Yelling in reply, Joe covered the distance and slotted the nozzle into the generator and pulled the trigger, only for the fuel to sit there, unwilling to leave the tanker.
“Must be an air bubble.” Sam suggested, following his statement with a cough.
“Must be?” Len mirrored as Joe removed the hose and put it on the floor. “Yo Joe what are you doing?” He asked as Joe wretched and vomited a thick black liquid on the floor.
“What the…” Sam swore only for Joe to grab him by the throat and crush his neck. Reaching for his radio Len saw the liquid on the floor quiver and then slither up his body and force itself down his throat, his lungs burning as he collapsed to the floor.
“Everything okay down there?” Mick called as Joe picked up the hose and walked over to a tank plastered with a big warning sticker, before removing the cap and slipping it into the fuel cap.
“Yeah just an air bubble problem, it’s fixed now.” Joe replied as he depressed the trigger and began pumping diesel into the new tank. After a few minutes the tank was full, and he removed the hose and began to wind it back up, as he did he heard a gasp and saw Mick standing on the stairs gasping at the bodies lying on the floor. His expression went from shock to rabid uncontained fear as he saw Joe’s body seemingly expand and darken until he resembled a humanoid blob of crude oil. Turning to run, he felt something sticky on his shoulder and screamed as he was dragged backwards into Joe’s body, his cries muffled as he drowned. “Shouldn’t have come down Mick.” Joe hissed as he snaked tendrils of tar out and dragged Sam and Len’s bodies towards him.
“They are disposable assets Tar Pit.” A buzzing voice hissed as electrical sparks momentarily tingled up and down the villains arm. “The code embedded into the system will allow you access, and your own natural abilities will mask you from the Martian’s telepathy. The advantage is yours, now seize the opening the others have gifted you and kill the alien.”
“Sounds like fun.” Tar Pit hissed as he slid over to the door leading into the Hall of Justice’s interior and hesitantly waved the blank access card ‘the Titan’ had supplied him. Slowly, almost as if it knew there was a problem and was fighting its coding, the door slid open. “And we’re in, always wanted to see this place.” Tar Pit bubbled as he walked through the door and headed for the stairs up to the Meeting Room. “Always wanted to burn it down too.”
As he zeroed in on his prey, Tar Pit went over what he was up against. Fighting the Flash was one thing, but the Martian Manhunter was another entirely since he possessed every power in the book, and then some that he’d never thought about, and while his benefactor had told him that fire was the Martian’s weakness, he wasn’t sure how much was needed, or how long it would take to rout and then kill the alien superman. Reaching the door to the meeting room, Tar Pit slid the access card across the sensor and looked inside. The Martian had his back to him, hadn’t reacted to the door opening, perhaps it really was that easy. He took a confident step forward, and then that confidence shattered as the alien spoke.
“I must commend you on masking your thoughts.” J’onn stated, not bothering to turn to look at his ambusher. “I couldn’t sense your coming until you were right outside. But with all you know about me you must be asking yourself,” He hissed as the door behind Tar Pit slid shut, “do you really want to be trapped in here with me.”
Flinching slightly, Tar Pit took a brave step forward and lit his fists on fire, the smell of burning hydrocarbons wafting through the room. “Perhaps Martian, it is you who should be asking that question about me.” He hissed, as he threw a punch at the alien, only for his target to turn intangible and the blow to pass through him. Retracting his fists, Tar Pit threw another punch, this one aimed at the Martian’s head, the blow once again passing harmlessly through nothingness, or at least that’s what it initially seemed like. As he prepared for another attack, Tar Pit heard his target scream, saw him snap back into a tangible form and hold his head in pain. Taking advantage of the attack, he grabbed the alien by the neck and slammed him into the door, the metal shutter buckling from the impact. Desperately his foe fought back with a solid blow to Tar-Pit’s abdomen, the liquid sloshing at his blow, and causing the surface of the villain to ripple. Dropping the Martian, Tar Pit saw there was fear at the edges of his foes otherwise hard to read face and smiled, a wide terrible smile.
“Is that fear I see Martian?” He asked as his entire body ignited, the dancing flames running up and down his liquid skin causing John to recoil in panic. With a whoosh Tar Pit threw a punch at the Martian Manhunter, knocking him through the door and into the corridor. Getting to his feet, J’onn watched as the sprinkler system activated, but suddenly screamed in pain as his skin burnt as the first drops of liquid landed on him. Stepping into the corridor Tar Pit cackled with glee as the floor of the corridor ignited, flames licking at his alien foe, as he ran for the door his skin erupting in gross smelling bubbles. “Oh you can’t leave yet.” Tar Pit hissed as he threw a blob of tar at the doorway, a wall of fire hemming the Martian Manhunter into the burning corridor.
Desperately John turned to face his attacker, the fire licking at his feet and skin, even as he took to the air and smashed through the roof of the corridor into the archive room above, the effort of trying to keep his cool (both physically and mentally) draining his strength as he touched down onto the wooden floor. “This is Martian Manhunter calling all Justice League memb…argh!!” Before he could finish his message, a burning missile flew up from the floor below and smacked into him. Pushing it off, he was shocked to see that it was the burning corpse of a human being, and that Tar Pit was already beginning to flow up the walls in a vain attempt to quickly access the upper floors of the building.
“Don’t bother calling for help.” Tar Pit yelled up at him as the archive sprinklers activated, more liquid splashing down onto the floor and igniting. “Between feeding diesel into the sprinkler systems and planting a psychic damper somewhere inside, we have you covered.”
“Who is we?” John asked as, he backed towards the door out of the room, his body liquifying even before Tar Pit reached the same floor as him. “Would that be Neutron, Mayfly and Killer Croc?” He asked as Tar Pit formed in the burning archive room and strode towards John as he used the last of his strength to break down the door to the stairwell. “How many others are there?” He asked as Tar Pit grabbed him by the arms, only for the limbs to liquify, causing the alien to drop to the floor with a crack.
“Read my mind, find out!” Tar Pit hissed, as he stomped on the Martian Manhunter, the aliens body liquefying and dripping down the stairs and over the edge of the banister. “And so passes the Last Son of Mars!” He snorted as the same white discharge from earlier ran up and down his arm before coalescing to form an ambiguously human figure.
“My orders were to vaporise the Martian.” The Titan’s voice hissed as his blank mask like face, the eye rent narrowing with anger as it looked at his subordinated. “Damaged as he is, the Martian Manhunter can regenerate from a liquid state and you just let him flow away. If he escapes his burning tomb then we lose, do you understand that?!”
“Uh yes.” Tar Pit gulped.
“Then finish the job and don’t crow until its done!” The Titan yelled before the electrical sparks faded away. Sneering, Tar Pit flowed downstairs, too angry to reply. His fear was now gone, as formidable as he was, the Martian Manhunter could do nothing to him, if he could he would have already done it. This would be an easy kill.
# # # # #
Centennial Park, Metropolis
The four bodies suspended by a thin blood red rope hung from the statue of Superman as the woman in red sitting at the feet of the paragon of justice traced the Mark of El on her forehead.
“He is coming.” A cruel voice, different to the one of the Titan or any of his allies stated.
“He is here.” The woman purred as Superman landed before her, disgust and anger spread across his face, partially at the desecration of his statue, but more at the bodies suspended there. “You were expecting someone else, Ser Superman?” She asked before answering her own question. “Ser Neutron perhaps?”
“What did you do!!” Was the only response she got, as she got to her feet, her fingers tracing over her face, an opera mask forming in her wake.
“I spared them the long sufferance that is to come good Ser.” The woman replied as Superman advanced on her, only for coils of red energy to wrap round his feet and hold him fast, until he shook them off with a grunt. “I shall gift you the same Ser Superman, the Red Witch is as good as her word unless you doth want to be my darling dear and lie sensually with me as my strapping Ser?”
“So you can take more lives?” Superman snarled as he threw a punch at the Red Witch, only for her to duck under his blow, the punch instead shattering the statue and causing the bodies hung there to pop in a shower of blood.
“You doth have no choice good Ser.” The Red Witch purred as she wrapped her hands seductively around Superman, the blood raising and circling up her body and into the Man of Steel’s ears and nose. Collapsing to the floor, Superman screamed in agony before falling still, red contrails raising from his eyes and mouth. “Now arise cursed Ser, you have a city to destroy.”
To most the grandiose architecture and graceful arches of the ‘Hall of Justice’ was a symbol of hope and power dedicated to saving the unfortunate and downtrodden people of the world, and on occasion the entire planet as well. And while the artefacts and exhibits on the League’s history and victories were always big crowd pleasers, the reason the majority of the public came to this part of Metropolis was to get a glimpse of their heroes. So, it was not unusual that there was a huge crowd of people milling around on the steps outside, or looking half-heartedly at the latest exhibit detailing the exploits of Superman’s victory against the villainous General Zod or any of the other monuments to their heroes, as it was the heroes themselves they were looking for.
Oliver Queen didn’t feel like a hero as he moved, unnoticed through the crowd to the maximum-security area that acted as the nerve centre of the League’s operation, rather he felt dirty, that his actions just over a year ago were still fresh and tarnishing the very hall he walked through. Even through his suspension period was almost over, his actions over the Prometheus affair were still very much remembered here as much as they were in Star City.
In the end, Oliver had taken the decision that no-one else would suffer, like the League or indeed the families of the ninety-one people the masked menace had taken the life of, and had ended Prometheus life with a single shot. Pausing in his chain of thought, he covertly swiped his access card against the scanner and waited for the door to open, knowing that the crowd wouldn’t bat an eye-lid to a man in jeans and a shirt walking through a door. As he left the public behind, he went back to his thoughts, in the end he’d been suspended by the League by two votes to five, with only Wonder Woman and Hawkman supporting his actions he’d taken the night before.
“Hi, stranger.” An almost purring voice stated, jarring Oliver from his thoughts. Their leaning in the door that led to the training room was his long-time girlfriend Dinah Lance known more publicly as Black Canary dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank-top, a towel draped round her neck. “What brings you to these parts?”
“Not the food.” Oliver replied as he wrapped his arms round Dinah and kissed her. “Still I heard a pretty bird calling me, and decided to come up and see her.” He added, as Dinah snorted a little laugh and stroked Oliver’s face.
“You didn’t shave this morning Ollie.” Dinah sighed as they uncoupled from each other and walked across the hall to the locker room.
“Blame that on Slingshot deciding to throw stones in glass houses.” Oliver replied as Dinah sat down on one of the benches in the room and opened a full-length locker containing the sheer tights, leather jacket and bustier of her heroic persona. “He was targeting the Ideal Home and Garden Show at the Tinder-Smith Convention Centre. Luckily nobody was hurt that much and…” He stopped as Dinah slipped off her tank-top and removed the towel from her neck. “Should I leave or…”
“Ollie, we’ve been dating for years, you don’t have to leave.” Dinah replied, a crooked smile appearing on her lips as she saw her boyfriend blushing.
“I know, it just feels with you here and me in Star City that we don’t really spend any time together.” Oliver sighed as Dinah slipped her bustier on. “I mean when did we last go on a date or just spend time together.”
“Last week when the League escorted the convoy carrying Multiplex to Iron Heights.” Dinah answered as she slipped off her trainers and shorts.
“Most of our dates don’t involve Hawkman and GL riding shotgun.” Oliver stated as he turned away from his fiancé. “Look let’s not discuss this now, I know my glorious return is going to be overshadowed by this Watchtower business and I don’t want to be grumpy about two things today.”
“You still don’t approve?” Dinah asked as she pulled her tights on, and slipped a pair of ankle high boots on over them.
“No, I support working closer with the police and everything, I support bringing in new heroes…what I don’t support is this expansion. Sure, it starts out all innocent and is about helping everyone, but what happens if there’s a coup in the nation we’re stationed in.” Oliver announced as his girlfriend pulled her jacket on over her bustier. “Who do we support, do we even get involved and if we do, what’s to stop the League from taking over. We all know transitional governments have a way of making themselves a permanent fixture, and I just worry the League, if pushed will act in the same way. This Watchtower Network we’re unveiling…it’s too much power for any one body to have and it will be the end of the League, maybe not today, maybe not even soon but eventually it will be the thing that destroys us.”
“Oliver, I personally support the League’s expansion, everyone in the League does.” Dinah replied as she stood up and glowered at her boyfriend. “We’re not some government, some evil corporation trying to take advantage of people, and if you feel that we are, then why are you re-joining the League?” She asked as she pushed past Oliver and headed into the hallway.
“I thought that would be obvious.” Oliver whispered as he pulled out a ring-box from his jeans and watched the woman he loved walk-away. “I’m joining for you.”
# # # # #
Meeting Room, Hall of Justice, Metropolis
J’onn J’onzz AKA the Martian Manhunter sat patiently as the other members of the Justice League arrived and took their places round the round table that sat at the heart of the Hall of Justice. Salvaged from the headquarters of the Justice of Society, the table stood for the core values of the League and its predecessor, as much as those who sat around it. And yet many of the seats remained vacant, although none were as painful as the one once occupied by Hawkgirl, the first and only member of the League to die in action, in this case at the hands of Prometheus in his attack on the hall.
“Does anyone have any outstanding matters they want to address?” J’onn asked as he placed his green hand on the table. “Or can I begin with the final figures and estimations for the unveiling of the Watchtower Network?”
“Actually I have something to bring to the table?” Superman stated as he slid a computer tablet across to the centre of the table. “This is one of my foes Neutron, and as you know, yesterday Diana and I fought him, only for him to escape leaving behind an energy signature. I had my suspicions and confirmed them at the Fortress. Neutron accessed the Phantom Zone to make his escape.” He added as the tablet projected a readout of the readings given off by Neutron’s departure. “It appears as a white energy that collapses in on itself rapidly.”
“Could Neutron access the Phantom Zone with his powers by giving off the right wavelength?” Hawkman asked as he shot a long look at Hawkgirl’s empty chair.
“Possibly, he can access a number of wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum.” Batman replied as he tapped something on his gauntlet, the energy calculations shifting upwards to show a map of the United States. “If it was just him then it would be less concerning then the current situation.” He announced as four areas on the map were highlighted in red. “As well as the Metropolis breach, there have been three other instances where super villains were teleported away by white energy discharges. In Gotham a GCPD informant in Killer Croc’s gang reported that Croc disappeared during a briefing for an armoured car heist, while just outside Central City, Tar Pit vanished from his cell in Iron Heights. And it could be said that Los Angeles District Attorney Kate Spencer owes her life to this energy when the assassin Mayfly was teleported away after she ran her targets car off the road.”
“They’re not exactly major threats.” John Stewart stated as holographic profiles of Neutron, Mayfly, Tar Pit and Killer Croc appeared next to each of the incursions. “At least not separately, but this seems like someone is bringing together another Secret Society. And there could also be more villains taken that we still haven’t been reported. Problem is not a lot of people have access to the Phantom Zone.”
“As far as I know, the only surviving Phantom Zone projector remains under lock and key in the Fortress of Solitude.” Superman stated as the holograms merged together to form a whirlwind of light and figures as it spiralled back down into the tablet. “Although we never found the Ghost Key that was in Prometheus’s custody, even chased down the leads to his associates such as Slade Wilson, Chad Graham and David Clinton in the hopes he passed one of them the key, but none of them even knew about it.”
“The solution will reveal itself, for now I will task the Leagues satellites with tracking any blooms of Phantom Zone energy.” J’onn J’onzz replied, as the hologram of the United States suddenly re-emerged with flashing red sections across the map.
“That was quick.” Diana stated.
“I haven’t done it yet.” Jonzz stated as the map split to focus on the readings. “Perhaps Clark had decided…” He stopped as Superman shook his head. “Curious then, go, attend to these breaches, I will determine who and how someone gained access to the satellite network.” He announced, as the other member of the League scrambled to get back to their home cities. As they left J’onn wondered who or what had reset the satellites to search for such energy readings and whether they were friend of foe to the League. While it would be nice to assume the former, his long life had made him cynical and he suspected that everything happening now was part of a long dormant plan of grandiose proportions and if left unchecked, an unhappy end for the Justice League and all they stood for.
# # # # #
Maintenance Bay, Hall of Justice, Metropolis
For all its complexities and supposed energy independence from the Metropolis Power Grid, the Hall of Justice relied on its host city to power its redundancies. Said redundancies were in the form of a pair of marine diesel generators with enough wattage to power a city block, maybe even two. Every half year the diesel was siphoned out and switched for more climate acceptable fuel. Due to a supposed error the switchover was scheduled for the day of the unveiling of the Watchtower Network, so the League had leaned on the city to perform the switchover early, with the promise that the family of the tanker driver and support crew would be awarded front row seats to the announcements. And do Joe Ramone found himself working on his day off with the mother of all throat aches on a blustery October afternoon.
“Give me another thirty meters of hose Mick.” He wheezed as he snaked the cable down some stairs and into the basement where his buddies Len and Sam were removing the fuel caps of the massive generators. Yelling in reply, Joe covered the distance and slotted the nozzle into the generator and pulled the trigger, only for the fuel to sit there, unwilling to leave the tanker.
“Must be an air bubble.” Sam suggested, following his statement with a cough.
“Must be?” Len mirrored as Joe removed the hose and put it on the floor. “Yo Joe what are you doing?” He asked as Joe wretched and vomited a thick black liquid on the floor.
“What the…” Sam swore only for Joe to grab him by the throat and crush his neck. Reaching for his radio Len saw the liquid on the floor quiver and then slither up his body and force itself down his throat, his lungs burning as he collapsed to the floor.
“Everything okay down there?” Mick called as Joe picked up the hose and walked over to a tank plastered with a big warning sticker, before removing the cap and slipping it into the fuel cap.
“Yeah just an air bubble problem, it’s fixed now.” Joe replied as he depressed the trigger and began pumping diesel into the new tank. After a few minutes the tank was full, and he removed the hose and began to wind it back up, as he did he heard a gasp and saw Mick standing on the stairs gasping at the bodies lying on the floor. His expression went from shock to rabid uncontained fear as he saw Joe’s body seemingly expand and darken until he resembled a humanoid blob of crude oil. Turning to run, he felt something sticky on his shoulder and screamed as he was dragged backwards into Joe’s body, his cries muffled as he drowned. “Shouldn’t have come down Mick.” Joe hissed as he snaked tendrils of tar out and dragged Sam and Len’s bodies towards him.
“They are disposable assets Tar Pit.” A buzzing voice hissed as electrical sparks momentarily tingled up and down the villains arm. “The code embedded into the system will allow you access, and your own natural abilities will mask you from the Martian’s telepathy. The advantage is yours, now seize the opening the others have gifted you and kill the alien.”
“Sounds like fun.” Tar Pit hissed as he slid over to the door leading into the Hall of Justice’s interior and hesitantly waved the blank access card ‘the Titan’ had supplied him. Slowly, almost as if it knew there was a problem and was fighting its coding, the door slid open. “And we’re in, always wanted to see this place.” Tar Pit bubbled as he walked through the door and headed for the stairs up to the Meeting Room. “Always wanted to burn it down too.”
As he zeroed in on his prey, Tar Pit went over what he was up against. Fighting the Flash was one thing, but the Martian Manhunter was another entirely since he possessed every power in the book, and then some that he’d never thought about, and while his benefactor had told him that fire was the Martian’s weakness, he wasn’t sure how much was needed, or how long it would take to rout and then kill the alien superman. Reaching the door to the meeting room, Tar Pit slid the access card across the sensor and looked inside. The Martian had his back to him, hadn’t reacted to the door opening, perhaps it really was that easy. He took a confident step forward, and then that confidence shattered as the alien spoke.
“I must commend you on masking your thoughts.” J’onn stated, not bothering to turn to look at his ambusher. “I couldn’t sense your coming until you were right outside. But with all you know about me you must be asking yourself,” He hissed as the door behind Tar Pit slid shut, “do you really want to be trapped in here with me.”
Flinching slightly, Tar Pit took a brave step forward and lit his fists on fire, the smell of burning hydrocarbons wafting through the room. “Perhaps Martian, it is you who should be asking that question about me.” He hissed, as he threw a punch at the alien, only for his target to turn intangible and the blow to pass through him. Retracting his fists, Tar Pit threw another punch, this one aimed at the Martian’s head, the blow once again passing harmlessly through nothingness, or at least that’s what it initially seemed like. As he prepared for another attack, Tar Pit heard his target scream, saw him snap back into a tangible form and hold his head in pain. Taking advantage of the attack, he grabbed the alien by the neck and slammed him into the door, the metal shutter buckling from the impact. Desperately his foe fought back with a solid blow to Tar-Pit’s abdomen, the liquid sloshing at his blow, and causing the surface of the villain to ripple. Dropping the Martian, Tar Pit saw there was fear at the edges of his foes otherwise hard to read face and smiled, a wide terrible smile.
“Is that fear I see Martian?” He asked as his entire body ignited, the dancing flames running up and down his liquid skin causing John to recoil in panic. With a whoosh Tar Pit threw a punch at the Martian Manhunter, knocking him through the door and into the corridor. Getting to his feet, J’onn watched as the sprinkler system activated, but suddenly screamed in pain as his skin burnt as the first drops of liquid landed on him. Stepping into the corridor Tar Pit cackled with glee as the floor of the corridor ignited, flames licking at his alien foe, as he ran for the door his skin erupting in gross smelling bubbles. “Oh you can’t leave yet.” Tar Pit hissed as he threw a blob of tar at the doorway, a wall of fire hemming the Martian Manhunter into the burning corridor.
Desperately John turned to face his attacker, the fire licking at his feet and skin, even as he took to the air and smashed through the roof of the corridor into the archive room above, the effort of trying to keep his cool (both physically and mentally) draining his strength as he touched down onto the wooden floor. “This is Martian Manhunter calling all Justice League memb…argh!!” Before he could finish his message, a burning missile flew up from the floor below and smacked into him. Pushing it off, he was shocked to see that it was the burning corpse of a human being, and that Tar Pit was already beginning to flow up the walls in a vain attempt to quickly access the upper floors of the building.
“Don’t bother calling for help.” Tar Pit yelled up at him as the archive sprinklers activated, more liquid splashing down onto the floor and igniting. “Between feeding diesel into the sprinkler systems and planting a psychic damper somewhere inside, we have you covered.”
“Who is we?” John asked as, he backed towards the door out of the room, his body liquifying even before Tar Pit reached the same floor as him. “Would that be Neutron, Mayfly and Killer Croc?” He asked as Tar Pit formed in the burning archive room and strode towards John as he used the last of his strength to break down the door to the stairwell. “How many others are there?” He asked as Tar Pit grabbed him by the arms, only for the limbs to liquify, causing the alien to drop to the floor with a crack.
“Read my mind, find out!” Tar Pit hissed, as he stomped on the Martian Manhunter, the aliens body liquefying and dripping down the stairs and over the edge of the banister. “And so passes the Last Son of Mars!” He snorted as the same white discharge from earlier ran up and down his arm before coalescing to form an ambiguously human figure.
“My orders were to vaporise the Martian.” The Titan’s voice hissed as his blank mask like face, the eye rent narrowing with anger as it looked at his subordinated. “Damaged as he is, the Martian Manhunter can regenerate from a liquid state and you just let him flow away. If he escapes his burning tomb then we lose, do you understand that?!”
“Uh yes.” Tar Pit gulped.
“Then finish the job and don’t crow until its done!” The Titan yelled before the electrical sparks faded away. Sneering, Tar Pit flowed downstairs, too angry to reply. His fear was now gone, as formidable as he was, the Martian Manhunter could do nothing to him, if he could he would have already done it. This would be an easy kill.
# # # # #
Centennial Park, Metropolis
The four bodies suspended by a thin blood red rope hung from the statue of Superman as the woman in red sitting at the feet of the paragon of justice traced the Mark of El on her forehead.
“He is coming.” A cruel voice, different to the one of the Titan or any of his allies stated.
“He is here.” The woman purred as Superman landed before her, disgust and anger spread across his face, partially at the desecration of his statue, but more at the bodies suspended there. “You were expecting someone else, Ser Superman?” She asked before answering her own question. “Ser Neutron perhaps?”
“What did you do!!” Was the only response she got, as she got to her feet, her fingers tracing over her face, an opera mask forming in her wake.
“I spared them the long sufferance that is to come good Ser.” The woman replied as Superman advanced on her, only for coils of red energy to wrap round his feet and hold him fast, until he shook them off with a grunt. “I shall gift you the same Ser Superman, the Red Witch is as good as her word unless you doth want to be my darling dear and lie sensually with me as my strapping Ser?”
“So you can take more lives?” Superman snarled as he threw a punch at the Red Witch, only for her to duck under his blow, the punch instead shattering the statue and causing the bodies hung there to pop in a shower of blood.
“You doth have no choice good Ser.” The Red Witch purred as she wrapped her hands seductively around Superman, the blood raising and circling up her body and into the Man of Steel’s ears and nose. Collapsing to the floor, Superman screamed in agony before falling still, red contrails raising from his eyes and mouth. “Now arise cursed Ser, you have a city to destroy.”