Chapter 18 …And Let Slip the Dogs of War Part 2

Raven reappeared on Earth and took a moment to stare at the chaos that enveloped the Metro Tower. Not only was her father's new pet staring at a group of cowering super villains hungrily, but several of the human attendants were attempting to remove some sort of gory mess from the street.

"Dare I even ask?" the teenage witch finally voiced.

Diana smiled slightly. "Hello, Raven. What are you doing here?"

"When Father did not return to the Death Union meeting, I grew concerned. Then, this news program announced that Darkseid has been resurrected and somehow kidnapped Kara. Father then sent me a message with his Patronus, so I came here to assist him. Is Father still here?"

"Mr. Black and Supergirl have already taken the fight to Apokolips," Batman informed bluntly as he hurriedly keyed data into his wrist computer, "which is what we should be doing, rather than standing around wasting more time. To make matters worse, it seems that the Watchtower's teleportation pads are malfunctioning as well."

Raven nodded. "I should be able to help with that." A quick swing of the scythe later and an inner wall of the Metro Tower suddenly had a portal to its orbiting cousin. "There you go."

The three adults looked at each other, before the two males both focused on Diana. Rolling her eyes at the pair, the Amazon gestured towards the ominous weapon.

"Just out of curiosity… since when do you carry a scythe?"

Raven shrugged. "Father's assistant was hesitant to help, so I… commandeered it."

Their conversation was interrupted by an electrified mace being thrust through Raven's portal, soon followed by the redheaded Thanagarian herself. Shayera took one glance at Raven and nodded to herself.

"Figured as much. Hang on a sec." The woman disappeared back through the portal momentarily, before returning with several costumed individuals.

"Nice job, Kid," Green Arrow praised, once he realized the source behind the alternate means of transportation. "I don't suppose you've got anything that'll carry us around the world, do you?"

In answer, one of the technicians exclaimed that a new wave of ships had appeared out of nowhere, and were headed directly towards them.

"Get us a visual," Batman ordered.

The resulting satellite footage, however, brought only more questions.

"Uh…," the archer began, "Am I the only one seeing several pre-World War One sea craft escorting a Zeppelin? What the heck is going on here?"

Raven's smiled. "According to Father's message, that should be my aunts, uncle, and several of Father's associates."

Within moments, the impossible vehicles stopped overheard and two blonde women flew out of the Zeppelin to meet them.

"Hey, gang!" Galatea greeted. "I'd like to introduce you to Joe's sister, Henchgirl. Henchgirl, the bunch of clods staring at the fleet is part of the Justice League. So… what'd I miss?"

"Father and Kara have gone to Apokolips to kill the resurrected Darkseid. The League is going to fight the parademons at this end, but they need some help getting there."

"Not a problem, Sweet Heart," the other woman announced, pulling out a Zippo as she did so. "Pencil? I need you down here."

Moments later, a robed redhead appeared between the two groups. "What's the matter, Henchgirl?"

"You like organizing messes," the elder witch announced. "We need you to take a look at those electronic maps and use our ships to get these people where they need to be. I'm going to be catching up with my niece."

Raven raised her hand tentatively. "Actually, I need to go let my friends in Jump City know what's happening."

"Alrighty then," Henchgirl agreed cheerfully. Placing two fingers over her mouth, she whistled sharply. "Oi, Roly Poly! We've gotta make a small detour!"

A solid black Pooka appeared in front of the women, and Henchgirl immediately jumped on its back and held out a hand to the girl.

Raven looked at the new arrivals confusedly, before carefully climbing onto the animal and holding the scythe over her shoulder. "Roly Poly?" the purple-haired witch finally asked.

"Well, Mr. Black wanted to call her 'Widow Maker'—on account of him being about the only male that she doesn't try to grind into the ground—but she eats so much that 'Roly Poly' just stuck. So, where's this Jump City, then?"

Amanda Waller took a deep breath to steady her nerves as the red telephone on her desk began ringing insistently.

"Hello, Mr. President," the Director of Metahuman Affairs greeted.

"Yes, Sir. We are aware of the situation."

"No, Mr. President. To the best of our knowledge, neither the Justice League nor our other allies possess a space navy built out of 1920s-era battleships."

"No, the Zeppelin isn't ours, either."

"Our initial findings indicate that Mr. Black is responsible, Sir."

"Yes, the same Mr. Black that Dr. Hamilton… encountered… a few weeks ago."

"Quite honestly, Mr. President, we don't know what kind of forces he can command. Presumably, far more so than this Darkseid character."

"We are not prepared to speculate why Mr. Black is defending the Earth at this time."

"Well, with all due respect, Mr. President, the Joint Chiefs don't know what they're talking about."

"According to his psychological profile, Mr. Black would in all likelihood finish destroying Darkseid before coming back here, ripping North America right off the surface of the planet, and then breaking it in half across his knee—and that's if he was in a good mood."

"Unfortunately, Sir, I don't believe that to be an exaggeration in the slightest."

"I will deliver your message personally, Mr. President."

"Good luck to you as well, Sir."

"Okay, Molly," Tim Hunter sighed at his best friend. "Explain to me again why I'm the one that has to keep paying for your ice cream addiction."

The brunette messily swallowed the upper portion of her vanilla ice cream cone. "That's easy, Doofus. Out of the two of us, you're the one that got adopted by an uber-rich super god. Speaking of whom, where is Mr. Black?"

"Oh, he took Raven off to some Death convention or something. He said he'd return later this evening."

The young girl breathed a sigh of relief.

"What was that for?" Tim demanded. "And why do you always tense up when he's around? Did he say or do something to you?"

Molly shook her head negatively. "No, nothing like that," she rejected, "and he is rather sweet… in a morbid, homicidal psycho kinda way. It's just that… he seems to attract trouble, doesn't he?"

The young wizard smiled slightly. "It's not like he goes looking for it—it finds him most of the time."

"But aren't you scared about getting caught in the crossfire? I mean, why do you have to get involved?"

Tim shrugged. "What else would I do? Get up, catch the bus, go to school, come back home, blow off my homework and go to bed—is that it?"

Molly huffed. "That's what kids do!"

He was silent for a moment. "I can't," he admitted quietly. "Not anymore."

"And why is that, Mr. Timothy Hunter?" his friend demanded hotly. "You better than the rest of us or somethin'?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Molly!" Tim protested. "It's just… he's taught me a lot—and I'm not talkin' about the spells, or the crazy adventures through time and space, or confronting weird magical creatures and all that stuff. As wicked as it is, none of that stuff really matters. One of the most important things that Mr. Black has taught me is that… well, there comes a time when you find yourself in a mess… and you can either do the easy thing, or you can do the right thing. And the right thing means that you have the guts make a stand and try to fix things when everybody else just turns a blind eye or runs away."

The sudden arrival of a glowing silvery stag interrupted the teenager's impromptu speech.

"W-what's that thing?!" Molly demanded shrilly.

The young wizard smiled slightly. "That's Prongs, Joe's… Well, I guess you'd call him a guardian spirit of sorts." Turning to face the spell directly, Tim asked, "What's up?"

The silvery creature opened its mouth and relayed Harry's pre-recorded warning before vanishing.

"'Stay safe' huh?" Tim parroted amusedly as his street clothes transfigured themselves into the uniform that Robin designed back in Jump City. "As if."

"You're just a kid!" Molly protested. "What do you know about fighting these parademon thingies."

Tim looked at the girl calmly. "I know that, out of all the kids in this world, and the other worlds, in all the other dimensions, realities, and universes—Mr. Black chose to adopt me. Even knowing how bad I could turn out, how much pain and suffering I could cause others, he saved my life. No, more than that, he gave me a life worth living."

The young wizard pulled a sheathed Caledfwich from his pocket and showed it to the girl, who gasped at the obviously potent weapon.

"He also gave me the means to protect that life," Tim admitted, "and the lives of those close to me."

The young man's vow was accented by a series of loud explosions emanating from the center of London, and he looked at his friend tentatively.

"Tim, this isn't a game!" the girl pleaded. "You could be hurt—or worse!"

Her friend remained resolute. "Better to die on my feet than live on my knees."

Huffing again, Molly replied, "Fine, then. Run off and be a hero—but you'd better be careful, Hunter!"

"You'd best stay here," the wizard noted, smiling slightly. "I'll be back in a minute," he added an instant later in a red and black blur.

Molly frowned at where her friend had recently stood, before elevating her glare to the heavens. "And you'd best be watching out for him if you know what's good for you, Mr. Black!" the girl shouted. "Or you'll be answering to me!"

Kara carefully headed to Ground Zero and tapped her boyfriend on the shoulder. "Ah, Joe?"

The hailed wizard turned and glared at the interruption, before forcing himself to assume a more neutral expression. "I'm a little busy, Kara. Can it wait?"

"Yeah… about that… would you mind just… taking a break for minute?"

Harry blinked. "This tosser kidnapped you," he began. "He attacked the Earth. He taunted me—and you're protecting him?"

Kara hastily shook her head negatively. "No no no! I just want to get a few good hits in myself!"

"Ah," the wizard eloquently replied. "Well, in that case. Be my guest."

"Thanks," she accepted cheerfully, before hoisting Darkseid aloft by his shirt. "Now, we really need to talk about how to treat a lady," Kara admonished as she planted a fist in the tyrant's rib cage, sending Darkseid through his throne. "There are certain things that you just don't do."

Harry smiled at the blonde, before frowning in confusion. "What's with the new costume?" he called.

"Oh, this jerk planned on making me wear it after he brainwashed me into being another one of his groupies," Kara replied as she took the largest fragment of the ornate chair and hit Darkseid over the head with it. "I thought I'd look stylish while I'm beating the snot out of somebody—it works for you, after all."

Harry raised both of his thumbs. "Very nice!" he commented.

The Argosian smiled brightly, before reaching behind her back and withdrawing a Grecian broadsword.

"Where the bloody hell did that come from?" the wizard demanded.

"Oh, Hephaestus gave it to me while you were taking your nap," Kara admitted as she sank the blade into one of Darkseid's kidneys.

Scratching his head, the wizard pointedly stared at her black mini skirt and equally-taut midriff-bearing shirt. "And where, exactly, were you hiding it?"

The blonde smiled impishly while leaning on the blade, which widened the gash in the Apokoliptian's latest ruptured organ. "If you're good, I might just show you later."

He smiled as Darkseid's hand began creeping towards the Motherbox on his belt—and Kara's dainty boot ground the appendage into the floor. "And what if I've been bad?" Harry teasingly pressed.

Kara worked her heel a few times, earning some renewed groaning from Darkseid. "In that case, after we take care of the garbage here, I'll definitely show you." To punctuate her promise, the young woman angled her sword and drove it into Darkseid's groin, elicited a rather impotent squeal.

Amazed at the young woman's tactics, Harry absentmindedly sat on an out-of-the-way chair.

"I think I'm in love," he finally admitted to himself in a mesmerized tone.

"There's Titan's Tower over there," Raven pointed out as the odd trio flew into the Jump City limits.

"Neat clubhouse you kids have," Henchgirl praised. "What rune cluster do you use to support the Tee's arms?"

Raven blinked. "Actually… I'm not exactly sure how Robin pulled it off. You'd have to ask him."

"I'll do that," Henchgirl promised. "The Architect is building a new Research and Development department, and I think having him build it inside a giant 'H' would be neat!" The genius paused in thought, before adding, "Best not let the Professor see this. He might get the notion to build a giant 'P' or something silly like that."

"Right…" Raven drawled, before several flashes of light and a series of explosions rocked the far side of the municipality. "I think my friends are over there," she pointed.

"Oke dokee," the elder witch agreed and directed the Pooka towards the disturbance. "Is this them?" she asked after a few moments' travel.

"The teenagers, yes," the purple-haired witch admitted before using Grim's scythe to blast several of the advancing Parademons. "Father won the jackal army from Anubis, and ordered them to help defeat the parademons."

"Did he now?" Henchgirl quietly asked, looking at the girl over her shoulder.

Raven wordlessly nodded in agreement and fired another hex at a group of parademons closest to her friends. While the girl's attack connected, it also succeeded in drawing unwanted attention to the two witches.

"Well, your friends certainly are ambitious," Henchgirl noted calmly as she dug through her handbag. "The only person that I've ever seen fight under worse odds is Mr. Black himself."

"Uhh… shouldn't we be running away or something right now?" Raven asked.

The Potions mistress grumbled. "C'mon! I know I put it in here somewhere!"

"What are you looking for?" the teenager asked as she began hexing the closest oncoming Apokoliptic soldiers.

"My can of mace. I always make sure to keep one with me."

Raven spared her new-found relative a disbelieving stare. "I don't believe that it's going to help us all that much!"

"Ah, here it is!" Henchgirl exclaimed, withdrawing a small, black tube. Pointing the cylinder in the direction of the parademons, the witch thumbed off the lid and released the container's contents.

"Of course, I could be wrong," Raven admitted calmly as dozens of full-size spiked maces flew out of the canister and set upon their foes with an almost inspired level of savagery.

Fumbling around in her bag again, Henchgirl passed a duplicate of the device to her passenger. "Here you go, Sweetie. Make sure you keep it with you at all times. After all, a girl can't be too careful these days."

Shocked, Raven just dumbly nodded in agreement.

Tim used the remains of a double-decker bus to bat another cluster of parademons into the ground before picking up his father's sword again and sighing in exhaustion.

"How many of these jerks are there?" the teenaged wizard demanded plaintively, before another set of growls drew his attention to a newly arrived group of the menaces. Side-stepping the fleeing civilians, the young hero-in-training took a deep breath and withdrew his wand into his free hand. Just as he prepared to square off against the new threat, a gust of wind blew past and sent him careening off his feet.

Tim slowly regained his feet. "What the bloo… dy…" He paused upon the unexpected sight of a purple bus mowing down the gathered parademons before noisily skidding to a stop. "Hell?" he finished incredulously.

Scratching his head in disbelief, the young magician walked over to the conveyance's entrance. "Hey!" he called. "Are you lot all right?"

If asked, Tim would have been unable to describe exactly what he expected in terms of a response. However, he was reasonably certain that a stampede of wand-carrying people in dresses wouldn't have been included. However, that is exactly what he received, and the youth hurriedly moved to the side as the onslaught of grim-faced personnel continued unabated.

"Why do I have the strangest idea that Mr. Black is somehow responsible for this?" the youth asked aloud.

"Black?" a suspicious voice demanded as a one-eyed, peg-legged pirate demanded as he stomped down the steps. "What do you know of Mr. Black, Lad?"

"Uh…" Tim hesitated as the odd colored prosthetic eye suddenly spun to glare at him, "he's my dad, see, and I thought—"

"Mr. Black doesn't have any kids," the man interrupted. "You're a spy for the enemy, aren't you?" he demanded. "Some sort of disguised agent planted by these daemon knock-offs?"

"Ease up, Mad Eye," a deep voice called out as a tall African man climbed out of the strange bus. "He's just a kid." Turning to the adolescent in question, he smiled slightly. "Hey, there. My name's Kingsley, and that charming man over there is Auror Moody. You did your old man proud, Son. Now, go on and get inside—the Aurors will take care of things from here."

Tim looked from the tall speaker to his misshapen cohort, before finally looking around as the group of apparent wizards was laying into Darkseid's remaining troops with a vengeance. "Err… sorry, but who are you people? What are Aurors?"

The two elder wizards looked at each other. "They don't have Aurors here either?" Kingsley muttered. Shaking his head, the man turned back to Tim. "We're dark wizard catchers," he explained as he sent a series of Reductor curses against a pocket of resistance. "And occasional pest control. Now, please get on the bus where it's safe."

"I can't," Tim disagreed. "My friend is still out here, and you blokes need everybody you can throw at—Watch out!" Racing forward, Tim uprooted a post box and threw it into their opposition's desperate charge.

An attractive witch—who had nearly been overrun—turned her head and gaped at the youth. "He really is Mr. Black's kid!" she explained disbelievingly.

The teenager smiled at the older woman. "The name's Superboy, by the way."

"Right then!" Moody exclaimed. "Shacklebolt, Jones! You're with me! Let's show these shoddy excuses for trolls what Aurors can really do!" Blue eye spinning crazily, the man turned back to Tim.

"All right, Lad, lead the way to your friend."

'I'm never gonna hear the end of this!' Dawn mentally whined, as an irritating male voice berated her in the background. 'It was a simple chore—go fetch Mr. Black's Nundu from Catwoman and bring it back to the Leaky Cauldron. It's not like it's my fault that those stupid demons went and attacked the city!'

A throat was cleared insistently. "I'm sorry," the sloppily-dressed detective commented sarcastically. "Am I boring you? Interrupting your next little bout of destructing municipal property, perhaps?"

"Hey! I didn't mean to do that!" Key shouted at the Gotham police representative, the large Nundu growling her agreement. "It was an accident!"

"You leveled City Hall, Sweetness!" the overweight police officer spat. "That's one heckuva accident!"

"Look, Mr. Detecto-guy, maybe you didn't notice, but I was trying to stop that honkin' big spaceship before its cannon killed a whole lot of people. Cut me some slack!"

The large cop seemed ready to offer another retort before a gray-haired man laid a restraining hand on the other's shoulder. "Ease up, Bullock—she was just trying to help."

"But, Commish—!" Detective Harvey Bullock complained.

"That's an order," Commissioner Gordon stated firmly, before turning his attention to the strange female-feline team. "Look, Miss. You and your… cat… helped stop those demons, and I'm not complaining about that. Luckily, no lives were lost due to your actions either, but couldn't you have been a little more careful?"

Dawn looked around at the crumbled ruins of what once had been Gotham City's seat of government and sighed. Maybe the destruction did get a little out of hand, but it was Apocalypse Tuesday after all. "Okay, so maybe a few blocks got destroyed. It could have been a lot worse."

"A 'few blocks'?" the Detective exploded. "Try more like ten square miles!"

"Dude, that was awesome!" Beast Boy cheered as the last of the parademons were stabbed, smashed, sliced, and squashed into oblivion. "I mean, Robin was like 'Hii yah!', and those demon thingies were all 'Arr!', and then Cyborg went 'Booyah!' after those weird dog soldiers showed up—"

"B.B.!" the half-man, half-machine teenager interrupted. "Chill out, already!" When his green teammate seemed moderately settled, Cyborg turned his attention back to the new arrivals. "Hey, Raven! Who's your friend?"

"This is my… aunt," the gothic girl finally supplied.

"Henchgirl, nice to meet you," the Potions Mistress introduced herself.

Starfire charged forward and seized the witch in a tight hug. "Glorious! We get to meet another member of Friend Raven's family!"

At the elder witch's inquisitive look, Raven supplied, "Starfire's… a little high strung."

While the inventive female extricated herself from the Tamaranian's embrace, Robin was careful to keep one eye on the jackal foot soldiers while he redirected the conversation. "Raven, I thought that you and Mr. Black were off doing some mystical thing together."

Raven sighed. "We were, but Darkseid—the jerk who rules these guys—was somehow resurrected."

"And…" Cyborg prompted.

"He kidnapped Supergirl," the young Death's Assistant finished.

The teenagers' eyes collectively widened; the implications of that simple statement sufficient to send the shape shifter into a tortoise form.

Robin cleared his throat—several times. "And… err… where is Mr. Black… right now?"

"Killing Darkseid, of course," Henchgirl supplied in a resigned tone. "Probably the jerk's army after that. Hopefully, his temper will run out after that… but don't hold your breath. He's still obsessing over the last dark idiot that caused him this much trouble."

"The jackal soldiers are part of Anubis's army that Father… commandeered," Raven further explained.

"Well, we don't need those dog boys now!" Beast Boy asserted. "I mean, these parademon creeps are out for the count, and there aren't any reinforcements in—"

A boomtube opened directly over their heads, disgorging several new Apokoliptian warships.

Raven glared at her emerald teammate. "You… are such an idiot."

As the green shape shifter rubbed the back of his head nervously, a fiery gash suddenly erupted in the sky. Several blazing wraiths immediately emerged from the slash and set upon the so-called 'parademons' with an unparalleled degree of savagery.

"Hey!" Cyborg exclaimed as his electronic eye finally determined where he had last seen the unusual creatures. "Aren't those Trigon's old minions?"

"Indeed they were, once upon a time," Etrigan growled from the portal he had opened behind them. "They bow to no will save Mr. Black's own now, though."

Keeping her liberated scythe at hand, the young witch asked, "And what is your business here, Demon?"

The Demon Prince laughed. "You truly are your father's daughter," Etrigan declared. "In short, our business here is you."

"What?" Raven demanded.

"Mr. Black's recent additions to his family are known from the Silver City to the innermost portions of the Pit—as was his recent temper tantrum."

"So?" Raven pressed.

"So?" Etrigan demanded incredulously. "For the first time since the beginning, the angels and the demons have finally found common ground—none of us are sure exactly what would happen if Mr. Black returned to Earth to find that his offspring had been harmed. Now, I don't personally think that your father would destroy the multiverse if you or that wizarding brat were to become fish food—but nobody wants to risk the possibility."

Etrigan shrugged. "Besides, even before the Church of Blood adopted your daddy dearest as its sole new object of worship, these guys have been begging me to intercede with your father on their behalf."

Raven frowned as she tried to make sense of what she'd been told. "So then… why tell me? Shouldn't you take this up with him?"

The demon stared at her incredulously. "Why? Because I'd like to live for a little while longer, and people who annoy Mr. Black don't tend to live very long." Etrigan turned towards his waiting portal. "And while we're on that topic, you might want to pay more attention over in Egypt. I'm told that there's a big mess out that way." His message delivered, the creature returned to its infernal realm.

Raven turned to the other witch at her side. "You seem to be taking all of this in stride," she noted.

Henchgirl shrugged. "After living with Mr. Black for a while, you get used to this sort of thing. So... since your friends are safe now, want to check out Egypt before we go back to the others?"

The purple-haired witch took a deep breath and remounted the horse.

"Egypt, huh? Why not?"

"Okay, I'm done!" Kara said cheerfully as she all but bounced over to his perch. "You can put him out of our misery, now."

Harry smirked and picked up his scythe. "By your command," he drolly announced. Once his grisly chore was complete, he returned to the blonde's side.

"You know that's kind of disgusting, don't you, Joe?" Kara finally voiced as her boyfriend inspected his latest… trophy.

Harry chuckled as he balanced the remains of the Apokoliptian dictator—Darkseid's barren skull—atop one finger. Having been rather thorough with his incendiary hexes, the wizard possessed the sole remaining fragment of the dismembered corpse.

And since Luthor's machine had combined with Tala's magic to bind Darkseid's soul to his remains…

"Release me at once!" the craggy-faced shade demanded impotently.

"I think not, oh Mighty Darkseid," Harry disagreed mockingly. "You see, I've needed a new paperweight for my office for a while now, and I think that your otherwise empty skull will serve nicely." He suddenly grinned sharply as a transparent bubble appeared around the severed head, blocking out its reply. "Besides, I owe you a great deal of torment for this latest stunt of yours."

Kara faked a cough. "Not to be a nag, Joe, but there's still a bunch of parademons back on Earth. Shouldn't we go and do something about that?"

"Yes, Dear," he agreed. "Besides, dear old Darkseid and I have all eternity to catch up." Conjuring a box, Harry proceeded to crate up the skull and stow it in his coat pocket. "Right then. Shall we go?"

A dry voice replied from behind the wizard. "Actually, I would appreciate a moment of your time."

Harry spun around wildly and locked his scythe into a ready position. "Metatron? What are you doing here?"

The stoic chronicler raised an eyebrow upon hearing the ancient moniker. "You must be mistaken. My name is Metron."

Harry stared at the floating chair—or, more specifically, one particular symbol engraved upon its base. "Riiight," he agreed sarcastically. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm a bit busy at the moment. So, unless The Voice wants to point us in the direction of the largest remnant of Darkseid's army, you're gonna have to come back later."

Metron, formerly known as Metatron, pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. Of all the tasks for the Source to demand…

"Friend of yours?" Kara questioned.

"Meddlesome acquaintance of the Old God variety," he explained shortly. "We bump into each other every so often. I think the last time was a couple billion years ago."

"Actually, our most recent encounter would be the human festival called 'Woodstock', if memory serves."

Harry frowned. "I don't remember that."

The Old God's lips twitched briefly. "You wouldn't. Had I… participated… to the same extent as you did, I doubt that I could have even stood, much less… well, you get the idea."

Kara looked between the two males happily. "Now, this sounds interesting, Mr… Metron, was it?"

At her obvious prompt, Metron obligingly nodded and introduced himself. "Yes, my name is Metron, and I am a scientist, investigator, and chronicler—nothing more," the man in the floating chair stated importantly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course, you're not. You just show up to 'observe' certain events—the unusual interference that tends to crop up in those events shortly thereafter has absolutely nothing to do with you whatsoever."

A hint of a grin—which was quickly hidden behind his hands—and a quirked eyebrow were the only indications of Metron's mirth. "What is a scientific experiment without the occasional systematically-altered test scenario?"

"I see," Harry replied, "so, your lurking behind the scenes while the odd note, potentially dangerous device, or other interesting phenomena is just part of some large-scale science project then?"

Kara nodded in sudden comprehension. "Oh, you mean like all those bad guys who cross you and then conveniently suffer those bizarre fatal accidents!" she exclaimed.

"Why… yes. How very astute of you," a now openly-grinning Metron announced proudly.

The wizard growled. "Is there any particular reason that you're here, Metron?" he demanded from between clenched teeth. "As I said, I'm rather busy right now."

"I can guide you to precisely where you need to be," the black-and-silver-clad man admitted, "but first I request that you to perform a simple task for me." He raised one hand to interrupt the wizard's immediate protest. "It will take only an instant, and then I shall transport you and your… companion… to where you wish to go."

Harry instinctively wished to reject another delay, but his onyx ring had already confirmed the other entity's assertions. And if hitching a ride on the Mobius chair would help clean up the mess back on Earth faster…

"Fine," the magician conceded. "What do you want?"

Hovering closer on his golden throne, Metron replied, "To arrange an introduction."

The trio was briefly surrounded by an opaque force field. When it cleared, Harry and Kara found themselves facing a gigantic stone wall decorated in strange carvings.

"Now what?" Harry demanded of his tour guide.

"You must pass through that barrier," the other man instructed. "Once you are inside, everything will be explained."

"You aren't coming with us?"

"What is to be discussed is for you and you alone. Your companion and I shall remain here, to fulfill my half of the bargain upon your return."

Kara immediately proceeded to express her negative opinion of their escort's proposal—at great length.

"Unless there are special circumstances, only a mortal possessing a twelfth-level intellect has the slightest chance of traversing the Source Wall and surviving," Metron informed the Argosian once she had calmed slightly.

At the blonde woman's subtle elbow to his midriff, Harry replied firmly, "Then she's overqualified on all three points. Though she frequently hides it, Kara is a genius, and she can hardly be considered a run-of-the-mill mortal. And I believe that this qualifies as a special circumstance, does it not?"

The Old God sighed. "Very well. If that is your decision, then you may both proceed. I, however, will remain here for your return."

The wizard nodded resignedly. "Right then, be seeing you," Harry grumbled before offering Kara his arm and walking resolutely towards the Source Wall.

"Bloody hell!" Tim swore as he swiped his borrowed enchanted weapon through another two charging parademons. "These things must breed like rabbits!"

Another riposte—coupled with a blow from a streetlamp-shaped cudgel—dispatched the last of the horde threatening the civilians hiding behind him.

"Alright, you lot, time to move!" he urged the others into motion. "Head that way and you'll run into a bunch of my friends wearing bathrobes. They'll escort you somewhere safe until this mess is over."

Waving off the discombobulated expressions of gratitude, Tim took the opportunity to regain his breath. After convincing Molly to stay inside of the odd purple bus—by way of a Stunning Hex when his childhood friend was looking the other way—Tim and the Aurors split up into pairs to better combat their enemy's widespread assault. Unfortunately, the young witch that had initially accompanied him took a grievous wound, forcing him to send her back with a band of fleeing refugees. Regretting his lack of reinforcements, Tim sank to the ground and propped himself against the blood-soaked—but still glowing—sword.

He had taken lives—many lives, if he were honest with himself. Unfortunately, they had left him with precious little choice in the matter, what with their blindly attacking any innocent human that crossed their path.

And so he killed them—by the score, sometimes.

Now, in the midst of the horrendous dead, the young Superboy wanted nothing more than to cry—but he restrained himself. Later, when the innocent were safe and people weren't looking at him like he was their only hope of survival… then, he would break down and grieve for what he lost that day. At the moment, he had to be strong on behalf of his people.

A sudden growl brought his fatigued head up to stare at yet more of the loathsome creatures from Apokolips, and he suddenly wondered exactly what those Aurors were doing while he killed their opponents for them. Wearily climbing to his feet, Tim took in the situation.

It wasn't looking good.

Apparently, the creatures could eventually learn from their mistakes, and had foregone mindlessly chasing after the fleeing humans to completely surround him from all sides. Racking his brain for a solution, his memory suddenly recalled Raven describing what had happened on Themyscira last month, and what she ultimately had to do when faced with two wrathful gods and a horde of Inferi. Reaching a decision, Tim kept as many of his foes in sight as possible, and wrapped both hands around the sword's hilt.

"Father," the young wizard announced, using the paternal form of address for the first time, "If you can hear this, I could really use some help right about now…a bazooka or holy hand grenade would be nice…"

A golden shaft of light encircled the boy, before several winged forms seemed to descend from the radiance.

"Take heart, Young One," one of the new arrivals, looking suspiciously like an angel, instructed. "Your deliverance is at hand."

As the divine Rapid Response team economically disassembled the parademon horde with several copies of his own weapon, Tim stared up at the sky and blinked.

"That'll work, too. Thanks."

"You heard the man," Shayera confirmed Mr. Terrific's assessment on the drilling machines. "Rock and roll!"

Twin cracks caused the small group of Leaguers to jump involuntarily.

"Blimey!" a masculine British-accented voice announced. "So, this is the Big Apple!"

"No, that's what the Yanks call New York City," an identical voice replied. "This is Washington D.C., their capital."

The first man nodded before using a stick to disintegrate several of the nearby parademons. "Why'd you reckon they call it that, anyway? Does it look like an apple or something?"

"Not a clue, Gred," his counterpart admitted as he used a whip of flames to chase several of the Apokoliptian shock troops into his brother's hexes. "People here are just funny that way."

After reducing the rest of the fleeing troops to soggy bits, the inquisitive wizard asked, "Well, what do they call this place then, Forge?"

'Forge' shrugged. "I dunno. Let's ask that lot over there. Oi! Miss Wings! Does this city have a nick name?"

For her part, Shayera just stared at the two identical redheads that had appeared in their midst without warning. There was something oddly familiar about this scene. The two wand-waving men acted almost like…

"Uhh… I don't think so," she replied, before shaking her head as if to clear it. "Excuse me, but did Mr. Black send you?"

The two wizards looked at each other. "She's good!" Forge commented.

His brother nodded in agreement. "A literal cute bird, too," he noted idly before redirecting his attention to the Thanagarian woman. "As a matter of fact, the boss did sorta start the ball rolling. 'Go here. Deliver that. Blow this stuff up.' You know how it is. I'm Agent F, but you can call me Forge."

"My name's Agent G… and you can call me anytime!"

"So, Gorgeous," the Weasley twins sidled up on either side of the Thanagarian, ignoring the other Leaguers entirely. "What's your name?"

Shayera blinked at the unexpected barrage. "Shayera…?" she responded uncertainly before shaking her head again. "Listen, we don't have time to shoot the breeze! That thing over there is trying to turn this whole area into a volcanic wasteland!"

"It's always something," George noted aloud to his twin. "Acme?" he queried.

Fred nodded in agreement. "Acme."

Pointing their wands in the direction of the alien device, they both incanted, "ACME!"

"That should do nicely. Good job, Forge."

"Couldn't have done it without you, Gred."

Shayera stared at the two wizards incredulously. "But it's still there!"

"Wait for it," Fred instructed while checking his wristwatch. A faint whistling could be heard, becoming shriller with each passing second.

"You might want to put these on," George advised, as he offered the others bright purple earmuffs. He followed his own advice and smiled as a square shadow began extending out from the alien drill.

"Here it comes!" the other wizard warned loudly.

The League members stared slack-jawed as a cartoon-style anvil the size of a large building collided with their primary target. Once the cacophony of noise and debris had settled, the twins collected the purple protective devices.

"So…" George began as he wrapped one arm around Shayera's shoulders. "How about we make sure that all these invading prats have been properly destroyed, and then maybe you could show us what the cuisine is like in this dimension."

"Hey!" Fred protested as he pushed his brother out of the way, only to take his place. "I saw her first!"

Shayera simply raised an eyebrow at the situation. Her social life since the Thanagarian invasion had consisted mostly of evading Carter Hall's stalking and jockeying for position in her love triangle with John and Mari.

The woman shrugged in resignation. "You like Chinese?"

The two male redheads looked at each other. "I suppose so…"

"Good," Shayera announced, "Because you're buying."

"You'll have to get it to go," an authoritative voice announced from behind them.

"Waller," the redheaded woman greeted the other female shortly. "To what do we owe the… pleasure?"

"I need to speak with their boss on behalf of the President," the Secretary of Metahuman Affairs announced briefly, pointing at the two wizards.

The two redheads looked at each other, then at the new arrival.

"Your name isn't Delores by any chance, is it?" Gred inquired.

"How do you feel about the color Pink?" his twin immediately followed.

The short woman blinked. "No, and I hate it," she finally replied.

The twin wizards nodded. "Good enough for me," one of them announced.

"Agreed," the other Weasley uttered, before pressing a knob on his wristwatch. An ominous black automobile suddenly appeared out of nowhere and skidded to a stop in front of them. "Everybody in."

"Shot gun!" his brother shouted.

"Hey, X! Why are we here again?" Faith demanded as the group Ported onto an arid wasteland.

"Because Mr. T and the Pencil detected a large group of parademons heading this way," Xander replied, checking the edge on his battle axe.

"And these parademon things are evil, right?" Remus Lupin questioned again, as his bikini-clad girlfriend and her two teammates Ported down next to the rest of the group with several crates.

"And, instead of some nice breezy Midwestern paradise, we decided to meet them out in the middle of nowhere… why?" the Bostonian demanded. "And what's that chick doing with that funky rifle?"

"Ignore Hermione," the man occasionally known as Mr. Blue advised. "She has something of an obsession for over-powered weaponry—like that new plasma cannon from the Acme girls."

The attending Metamorphmagus rolled her eyes and checked the settings on her Black Ink pistol. "That's an understatement," she grumbled before turning her attention to the bushy-haired witch. "You do realize that our regular pistols can deliver ten times the output while still being easily portable, right?"

The bushy-haired bookworm pumped the slide, generating an ominous hum. "I like the soothing sounds I get out of this one."

"The glow of doom from the barrel is a nice touch, too," Luna agreed absentmindedly.

Harry had many expectations as he crossed the odd threshold. A complete void save for the pair and the one requesting the meeting was one such theory. Or, perhaps, he might stumble across some sort of ethereal scene with fog and strange lights. For that matter, an enchanted cave wasn't completely beyond the bounds of reason.

Whatever the case, the wizard would have never imagined finding himself standing in Ollivander's dust-covered shop. Just as it appeared during the summer before his first year of Hogwarts, the store appeared empty.

And, just as was the case then, Harry sincerely doubted that the two of them were alone.

"Nice illusion," he called out to the shelves filled with wands, "but I'm on a pretty tight schedule; my girlfriend and I've got several really bad people to kill. So, if it's all the same to you, can we just get on with it?"

A sigh was heard from behind the shelves, before shuffled footsteps heralded the arrival of the expected facsimile. "That's the trouble with young people these days," 'Ollivander' noted. "Everyone's always in such a hurry."

"Is there any particular reason why you helped yourself to my memories?" Harry asked, ignoring the criticism.

The wizened form of the shopkeeper made a show of scratching his chin. "Yes," he decided, "and no."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's try again. Why are you impersonating a wand merchant from another dimension?"

"I wished to speak with you in a familiar environment," 'Ollivander' replied. "This place seemed sufficient." Looking at Kara, the simulacrum answered her unspoken question.

"You may call me the Source, child."

"All right… Source," Harry groused, "why did you want to speak to me?"

"I wish you to perform a… service… for me," the imposter admitted. "You may not recall but, eons ago, I was attacked without provocation by the reigning gods of the time and was thus split in twain. My retaliation was swift, and I was fortunately able to defeat our foes. Even with my… our… imperfection, I attempted to recreate that which was lost. Unfortunately, while I successfully routed my enemies, I was too diminished to restore everything, resulting in a flawed Fourth World. Instead of the champions of peace and justice, my creations seem incapable of anything save mindless savagery against each other. In any event, while this part of me was eventually able to recover and defeat my enemies, my other half remained separate far beyond this barrier—until now."

Harry suddenly felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. "You don't say?"

"Yes, I do say. While I was able to Create this consciousness to evolve, I did not believe that my Destructive half would have the same opportunity. Nonetheless, it seems that my Anti-Life twin has finally managed to manifest itself in a physical form—you. That is why I brought you here in the first place. Now, at long last, we will be able to completely obliterate the New Gods and began again."

The wizard sighed miserably. "Listen, Source, I can understand you wanting to reunite with yourself—to an extent, anyway—but you're making a huge mistake. I'm not what you think I am and, even if I were, I still wouldn't murder innocent lives just because they don't behave like you want."

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, HARRY JAMES POTTER!" the illusion of the kindly old wandmaker bellowed, his voice seemingly coming from every direction. "EVEN IF YOU STILL DENY IT, I KNOW YOUR TRUE PURPOSE! I KNOW WHAT YOU ONCE WERE, AND WHAT YOU WILL BECOME! YOU ARE THE SHADOW THAT CORRUPTS AND DESTROYS EVERYTHING IT TOUCHES! YOU ARE THE BEAST OF JUDGEMENT, THE DARK AT THE END OF EVERYTHING! YOU ARE THE END OF GODS AND WORLDS AND UNIVERSES. THAT IS YOUR PURPOSE!"

Harry glared at 'Ollivander', wanting desperately to protest the accusations but secretly fearing that the entity before him might somehow be right.

The third individual present, which had remained silent until this point, seemed of a different mind.

"Listen up, you creepy old geezer! I don't know what your damage is, but you obviously don't know squat!" Kara intoned sharply. "Joe is probably one of the most self-sacrificing guys that I've ever met! He has powers that put entire pantheons of gods to shame, and he only uses it to protect the innocent. Every time I turn around, I find some other person—or civilization, or planet—that only exists because Joe stepped up and saved them all when no one else would, or could. And he does it despite all the slander and ridicule; despite all the people who take his help and then expect him to just quietly go away until they need him again. He does all that because that's what he is! He's the champion of the innocent, and even if he does have the power to kill anything he wants, that's only a very small part of a much larger whole."

"YOU DARE TO ADDRESS ME SO!" the Source exclaimed hotly as the Diagon Alley shop faded into nothingness. Harry and Kara found themselves facing a figure formed entirely of white flames in an otherwise featureless void. "THEN YOU MUST BE FLAWED AS WELL!" the entity vowed, and sent a fiery barrage directly at Kara.

While Harry may not have known the proper reply to the Source's earlier comments, he certainly knew the proper response for dealing with someone attacking his family.

"YOU WILL NOT!" the suddenly-skeletal magician countered, freezing the blazing projectile in its tracks. Upon seeing the success of his Yuki Onna-inspired hex, Harry cast the same spell through his scythe at his conflagrated opponent.

The Source melted the frigid barrage with ease. "WHY DO YOU REFUSE TO PERFORM YOUR DUTY?" it demanded, launching a fiery stream at the wizard.

Harry dodged the blast and returned the favor with the Water Cannon charm. "Because they're innocent!" he protested.

"THEY ARE FLAWED, IMPERFECT CREATIONS! NEW GENESIS AND APOKOLIPS REMAIN DIVIDED WHILE THEIR POPULATIONS EXPEND THEMSELVES ESCHEWING ORDER TO SOW CHAOS! SUCH FAILURES MUST BE ELIMINATED!"

"They're not supposed to be perfect!" the Potter scion protested heatedly. "That's the whole point! Mortal or immortal, human or god—they're all just people! Yeah, a few of them have gone bad, but you'll get that out of any species. I mean, look around! Zeus is a dedicated skirt-chaser, nobody tops Ares's obsession for carnage—except maybe Tyr—Hercules and Thor live for bar brawls, and don't even get me started on the Egyptian and Indian pantheons. I've had cause to visit them all recently, and even they occasionally slip up and do something stupid—but that's life for you. New Genesis and Apokolips are nothing different; they just got caught up in Darkseid's lust for power. Sure, they've made their share of mistakes but how would they—or any of us—learn otherwise?"

Their sole current source of illumination remained silent and immobile.

"Look," he finally uttered, "let us finish cleaning up Darkseid's mess. Then, you and I can pay the others a visit and I'll show you just what sort of failures the New Genosians really are."

In reply, the humanoid figure vanished, leaving Harry and Kara alone in the void once more. The darkness receded moments later as a glowing ball of light appeared in front of him.

"That is acceptable," the Source announced as it flew into Harry's hands—which the wizard did not recall ever extending in the first place. "I shall accompany you on your journey."

"Err…" Harry hesitated as the reality of the situation dawned on him, "I appreciate your offer, but I'll probably need my hands before we're through."

The luminescent sphere morphed into a pair of fitted gloves in reply.

The wizard just sighed. "Fine, then," he mumbled. "How do we get back to—?"

The emptiness gave way to reveal the exact same place where they first entered the Source Wall.

"—Metron?" Harry finished confusedly.

"I trust that your communion with the Source was memorable?" the white-haired man atop the throne chair inquired politely.

The other man glanced down at his gloved hands and nodded. "You could say that."

"Shall we proceed, then?"

Harry forced thoughts of his recent confrontation from his mind and wrapped one arm around Kara's shoulders, concentrating on the matter at hand.

A sharp nod later and the Promethean Galaxy was bereft of visitors once more.

With the presence of his new allies, Tim was able to catch his second wind long enough to eliminate the remaining threat. Once Darkseid's foot soldiers were destroyed, the Host returned to their home, leaving behind nothing more than several dozen corpses and a wish of goodwill towards the 'Dark Bringer'—apparently another title for his infamous progenitor.

The battle won, Tim used the magnificent sword as a cane to hold himself aloft as the remaining residents tentatively came out of hiding. Seeing nothing more than their teenage savior remaining, several of the braver individuals approached him while the more squeamish avoided staring at the grisly scene.

For his part, the wizard was just thankful that the fighting was finally over and done—magically-sustained flight and super speed took a lot out of a guy. Although, he thought he might be able to rustle up enough energy for a Reductor Curse or two when flashbulbs began going off in his face. Clenching his jaw, the young man wrapped his hands around either side of the weapon's guard—unconsciously presenting the inscription to all the impromptu photographers present.

His first clue that something had gone awry was a shocked gasp from one of the women at the front of the crowd. Had her surprised exhalation not been sufficient to alert him, however, the masses suddenly kneeling before him while whispered exclamations of the 'Once and Future King' certainly would have seized his attention.

The woman who first knelt bowed her head. "What is your command, My Lord?"

She seemed perfectly willing to wait indefinitely for his reply—which was convenient, as the most coherent thought bouncing through his mind wasn't intended for polite company.

'Things can't possibly get worse than this,' Tim decided.

Moments later, the crowd parted to permit the passage of a motorcade. The center vehicle, a limousine bearing Union Jack flags on the hood, came to a halt directly in front of him.

'Then again,' he admitted as the last person he expected to ever meet was ceremoniously withdrawn from the vehicle, 'I could be wrong.'

Quickly dropping to one knee himself, hands still on his father's sword, Tim waited for the elderly ruler of England to approach him.

The Queen's eyes took in the youthful figure before her, before her gaze fell upon the weapon he still held. From the various accounts that she memorized from the Crown's private archives, the monarch knew perfectly well what weapon had been called into service today—and by whose hand it could be wielded.

"By all rights, I should be kneeling to you, Knight Protector of England. Without your aid this day, I might not have had a kingdom left to rule."

Tim gulped, and hurriedly tried to remember his Avalonian lessons pertaining to formal Code of Conduct. "I am no Knight, Your Majesty. I am but one person who did what needed doing to preserve the realm."

"And you succeeded beyond all measure," the Queen admitted. "I find myself hard-pressed to decide upon the appropriate honor to bestow as a reward."

"No reward is necessary, Your Majesty. It is an honor to serve."

The Queen smiled to herself at the youth's honorable comportment. Any layperson could see that the young man was a Knight by deed, if perhaps not in truth. By the oaths sworn by every English monarch for the past 1600 years, the Throne was his for the asking—but it was equally obvious that the young man had no desire to claim his long-awaited birthright.

Oh, well, if the lad would rather not unite the Kingdom directly, there were other ways to restore her Realm to its former glory.

"By what name are you known in this age, young Swordsman?"

The apprentice wizard blinked. "You may call me Superboy, Majesty."

"May I borrow your weapon then, Mr. Superboy?"

Still kneeling, Tim offered Caledfwich's pommel to the Queen. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Accepting the sword with the assistance of one of her attendants, the Monarch tapped Tim's shoulders with the blade. "I hereby dub thee Knight of the Realm, with all rights as pertain to those of The Most Noble Order of the Garter. I further grant thee Hereditary Peerage in the Realm and wheresoever else Our Power may reside. Rise Sir Superboy, Duke of the Peerage of Great Britain."

Tim could scarcely retain his composure—not only due to the honor itself, but because of its cost as well.

"I will uphold the Honor and the Laws of the Land, My Liege," he pledged. "Long may you reign."

As the Queen returned the enchanted weapon, the only thought on the young wizard's mind was how to explain the situation to his new family.

"We've got to find a way to take this thing out for good!" John Stewart advised as his ring cut down the advancing parademons defending the alien drill.

Flash skidded to a stop in front of the other man and cheerfully offered a suggestion. "Why don't you just throw it into the sun?"

The Green Lantern of Sector 2814 just stared at the speedster, lost in thought.

"Yeah, I guess that was a pretty stupid idea," Flash admitted after a few moments.

"No, maybe you're onto something," John disagreed. "But I'll need more leverage… and a trench."

"On it!" Wally called out, already running towards the menacing machine. Within a few moments, the Fastest Man Alive had succeeding in wearing a ring into the ground around their objective and reappeared next to his friend. "Now what?"

In reply, John concentrated his will and formed an emerald catapult, forcing the scoop under the drilling machine via Flash's trench.

"Oh, cool!" the speedster breathed out in awe as the green construct launched the burrowing apparatus into the air. Unfortunately, its trajectory soon proved that it would land a good deal nearer than the sun.

"Doesn't look like it quite made escape velocity," Green Lantern noted idly.

Flash smiled as the drill struck the alien battle cruiser during its plummet back to Earth. "Nope! Good effort, though."

"Unfortunately, t'ey now know that we are 'ere!" the Crimson Fox announced hurriedly, pointing at the score of parademons advancing on their location.

"Not a problem, Beautiful!" Flash told her calmly. The Scarlet Speedster blurred for an instant before he reappeared, holding a rose towards the French perfume entrepreneur. "This is for you," he announced. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

The Fastest Man Alive accelerated towards the approaching group and, before the Apokoliptians could even realize what danger they were in, soundly defeated them. Making a superfast supply run to a hardware store several blocks away, the swift metahuman bound the threatening mob together with commandeered steel cable.

"See?" Flash prompted an instant later, standing once more next to the attractive Crimson Fox and the resigned Green Lantern. "No trouble at all!"

"Oh, yeah, Hot Shot?" the former U.S. Marine demanded, while pointing behind the self-congratulating Speedster.

Following John's digit, Wally slowly spun on his heels as the Justice League trio was swiftly surrounded by over a hundred of the Apokoliptian foot soldiers.

"We're in trouble!" the red-clad man exclaimed.

The trio—and their soon-to-be executioners—halted as a shadow suddenly encompassed the lot of them. Looking up, John could just barely recognize the underneath of a World War II-era battleship hull.

"Ah, man!" Flash whined. "What now?"

The Green Lantern took advantage of the distraction to fly the three of them out of harm's immediate way. "That doesn't look like one of Darkseid's ships."

Several cannons appeared out of formerly hidden portcullises in the ship's sides and oriented on a range of ground and air targets. An instant later, those same targets came under heavy fire.

"Well, at least they're on our side," Flash pointed out from inside the emerald bubble. "Shouldn't we help them out?"

From their vantage point, the three watched as dozens of silvery-blonde-haired women armed with bows appeared on deck.

"What in the world?" the masked D'Aramis sister breathed incredulously, as the female archers proceeded to lay waste to the ground troops. Meanwhile, the impossibly-hovering vessel used its projectile weaponry to great effect against the remaining Apokolips air support.

"I sense Mr. Black's hand in this," John finally announced as he guided them towards the craft.

Flash pointed to the mast of the ship, which was proudly flying the Skull and Bones upon its mast.

"You think?"

"Hey! We're back in Metropolis!" Kara exclaimed as the hover chair appeared over the lazily spinning globe atop the Daily Planet.

"You are correct," Metron agreed placidly. "Exactly one instant after you agreed to accompany me to the Source Wall—as we agreed."

Harry grunted an acknowledgement as the pair of League members took flight. "Well, thanks for the lift," he offered, already lining up a Reductor curse with the nearest group of parademons.

"It was my honor to serve the Source," the Chronicler replied.

The wizard snorted, before muttering, "If you say so."

"C'mon, Joe! There's still a bunch of bad guys to hurt, and I see Cl… Kal El… over that way!"

The scythe wielder sighed. "Yes, Dear. Right behind you, Dear."

"Bye, Megatron!" Kara called as the pair flew into battle.

The Old God stifled a pout. "It's Metr… oh, never mind!"

The white-haired figure idly watched the younger pair as they laid into their enemies with a vengeance. Then he smiled.

"I wonder what Mr. Black will say when he discovers my 'observing' this battle."

Completed covered in blood, Xander was happily fighting the good fight. At long last, he finally found what he had sought since his induction into the Black family—Action. Unfortunately, the so-called parademons proved a poor challenge for him and his axe. Fortune soon smiled, however, when a new enemy revealed himself, completely enshrouded in flame.

"You dare to defy the will of Darkseid?" the potential true Demon demanded.

The brown-haired melee looked at his axe thoughtfully, before giving the New God another considering glance. Suddenly grinning widely, he shoved the weapon back into its holster underneath his coat and replaced the weapon with an oversized Acme mace.

Satisfactorily equiped. Xander laughed. "Of course, I do, Apokoliptian puppet! I am The Master of Battle, and will protect this world… just as I have done for others."

The fiery individual seemed to frown as he motioned for the remaining parademons to cease fighting. "You are of New Genesis, then? I know nothing of you."

"No, Brimstone, I am not from New Genesis," the immortal brunette admitted. "But if it's an introduction you want… I've been called many names: joH'a' vo' by the Klingons. Protector of Mankind by the people of this world. The White Knight by demons, and a girl I know affectionately calls me the Zeppo. I may not start wars if I can help it, but I will definitely put an end to them when I can. I am Nighthawk or, if you prefer, Mr. Blue. It will be a pleasure to kill you."

Brimstone laughed. "You make much of yourself, little man! Very well, I shall introduce myself as well. I am fire and destruction, the destroyer of the False Gods, the servant of an angry God, the true God Darkseid. I am Brimstone, the one who burns by touch."

Xander put his sword up in salute, the blood red stone in the pommel gleaming and the face on its guard displaying a visage of fury. "Now that the niceties are out of the way… shall we battle?"

"Let us do so, False God!"

"Thanks for the help," Clark called out as Harry sent an enthusiastic Reductor curse through the shielding of the last Apokoliptian war wagon.

The wizard smiled. "Trust me, the pleasure was all mine."

"And he really means that," Kara immediately supplemented.

Clark and Diana floated towards their timely reinforcements. "Well… in any event, thanks."

The magician smirked. "If you really feel that strongly about it, you can return the favor by giving me your honest opinion."

"On what?" the Man of Steel asked, confused.

The other male pulled out his most recent trophy. "I'm thinking of hanging this on a stone wall. You think I'd be better off with English Oak, or Redwood?"

"Release me immediately, and I will overlook this unseemly display!" the disembodied voice of the twice-murdered tyrant ordered harshly.

Beginning to muster the energy for a Patronus through his gauntlet, the wizard's grin turned positively wolfish as the voice suddenly began shrieking in agony. "You'll have to excuse Uxas," Harry idly remarked. "It seems that Undeath doesn't really agree with him."

Ignoring her boyfriend's grisly game, Kara made a show of brushing off her hands. "Well, it looks like it's just us in the sky for as far as I can see."

Harry groaned. "We've been over this, Kara. There are some things that you just don't say out loud."

"Oh, be serious, Joe! It's not like a whole new fleet of warships is just gonna appear out of nowhere!"

A new fleet of warships appeared without warning, surrounding the quartet.

"Oops!" the Argosian murmured sheepishly as the three brunettes glared at her.

Within moments, the newly-arrived armada disgorged dozens of strangely costumed individuals. The ranks parted as the apparent leader flew towards the Leaguers in a strange contraption replete with gatlin gun.

"We came as soon as we got word of Darkseid's resurrection," the masked man announced bluntly. "According to Motherbox, Darkseid should be right here." He looked around, completely puzzled at the lack of evidence. "I don't understand."

Clark cleared his throat meaningfully and pointed at Harry's hand, which still loosely held Darkseid's possessed skull. "Your equipment was telling the truth, Orion."

"How can this be?" the New Genosian demanded.

Harry shrugged. "Well, this git here," he presented the skull for closer inspection, "came back from the dead without permission, which kinda irritated me. Then, he goes and kidnaps my girlfriend, which really got under my skin. So, being understandably upset, I… took steps."

"He slew Darkseid's minions, opened a portal to his throne room, and popped on by to reduce the Zombie King to ash," Kara added.

"By yourself?" a red-haired man in a white unitard queried.

Kara noisily cleared her throat.

"Oh, yeah," the wizard allowed, "Kara helped a bit."

The blonde woman punched him in the shoulder.

"But the prophecy states that only I can kill Darkseid," Orion protested.

Harry nodded knowledgeably. "That's the funny thing about prophecies—just because one tells you a way of doing things doesn't mean that it's the only way. And besides…"

He grinned and began conjuring another Patronus, inciting another round of pained screams from his macabre trophy.

"Dear old Darkseid's not entirely dead yet."

An older man bearing a shepherd's hook joined them. "We might have been too late for this battle, but our scans of Apokolips shows that Darkseid's engine of destruction remains in motion."

"We're working on that as well," Harry replied. "In fact…" he returned the skull to his pocket and withdrew his Zippo. "Pencil, have you been monitoring things in this dimension?"

"By Lady Henchgirl's order, Mr. Black," the Administrative Assistant announced. "I am currently in the… Metro Tower, I believe it's called. How might I be of service?"

"I need a status report."

"Of course, Sir. Reports are still coming in, but Mr. Terrific and I have confirmed the destruction of ninety five percent of the enemy forces. The leftovers should be annihilated within the hour."

"Excellent, Pencil. Any news on friendly casualties?"

The redheaded wizard paused briefly. "None, Sir, as usual."

Harry smiled happily. "Thank you, Pencil. That will be all." He slipped the Zippo back in his pocket.

The old man sighed in relief. "Then this long war is finally over."

One of the other New Gods spoke. "What shall we do, Highfather?"

"Aid our allies in disposing of Darkseid's lingering presence on Earth, then return to New Genesis to enjoy the peace that is to come."

Harry fixed his palms with a questioning glare. "Hardly the pack of mindless savages that you promised," he murmured wryly.

'The aged one is an anomaly, nothing more,' the Source mentally insisted.

The wizard growled. 'You know, for a supposedly supremely intelligent being, you're being remarkably stupid! Have you been paying attention at all?'

His gloves glowed white before a humanoid figure appeared in front of him. "I will put an end to this debate once and for all!" White tendrils of energy shot out of the Source's physical manifestation, connecting with the minds of every New God accompanying Highfather.

"By the Source!" the white-haired leader of the New Genosian exclaimed before falling to his knees atop his hovering platform.

Moments passed in silence before the ghostly extensions withdrew into the solemn Source.

"This data makes no sense," it finally admitted.

"Sure it does," Harry explained as the New Genosians recovered from the unannounced mind probe. "Darkseid and his lust for power warped the people on Apokolips into mindless peasants. On the other hand, Highfather over there led this lot in a far more… human… direction. I expect the people left on Apokolips can be brought around, now that Darkseid's influence has been removed."

The embodiment of the Source remained silent for several moments. "This scenario is most unexpected."

Harry snorted in amusement before retrieving his hat from its pocket in his coat. "Well, that's life. What can I tell you?"

"But… they are disjointed… incomplete. Their very worlds have been wrongfully split asunder."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Then just shut it already, and go fix it!"

The avatar stared at the wizard in confusion. "But you have already refused to destroy them so that they might be recreated."

Tiredly wiping one hand down his face in frustration, Harry caught a glimmer out of the corner of his eye and quickly assembled a plan.

"Alright, then. You see that golden globe over there?" the magician asked, gesturing at the ornament atop the Daily Planet some few blocks away. "For the sake of argument, let's agree that it's your original planet in the Fourth World."

He cast a powerful Cutting Hex at the metallic sphere, splitting it and sending the two halves plummeting to the ground.

"Watch closely," Harry advised, before casting a Reparo charm. The two halves immediately arrested their descent, before flying back atop the sky scrapper and reforming into a single larger whole. "See? Bob's your uncle, Mary's your aunt; one planet, good as new."

"I understand," the Source finally acknowledged.

"Wonderful!" Harry breathed happily. "Off you go, then!"

"Yes, we shall… repair… the situation at once."

The wizard's pleasant mood ground to a sudden stop. "Oh, no!" the wizard immediately rejected. "No, no, no! There is no 'we'! There's just 'you' and 'I'—and 'I' am having no part of this! You just toddle off and take care of the rest of it. There's a good supernatural entity."

"But… I cannot," the Source confessed. "I am the force of Creation—Destruction and Re-creation lay within your sphere of influence, not mine."

Harry growled in frustration. "I'm not believing this!"

"Well, it isn't like you haven't done this sort of thing before," Kara admitted quietly—though not quietly enough to prevent the other Leaguers from overhearing her comment.

Harry glared at the girl briefly. "Whose side are you on, again?"

The Argosian smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, but you know he's not gonna drop it until you do something about it."

The wizard sighed resignedly. "Fine, I'll tag along—but only in an advisory capacity. Understood?"

"That is acceptable," the Source agreed before the pair vanished in a burst of white light.

"Hey!" Kara exclaimed upon being left behind once again. "What about me?!"