Chapter 18 …And Let Slip the Dogs of War

Chapter 18

…And Let Slip the Dogs of War

Something was wrong.

The plan had been going smoothly—at least as far as the entity could tell. Events were unfolding exactly as predicted, the main players were fulfilling their destinies precisely as they were supposed to, and the ultimate resolution was proceeding as intended.

And then the metaphorical wheel came loose, sending eons of meticulous plans careening completely out of control.

Some unknown factor had not been considered, and the ensuing ripple effects were affecting the final design. If the reactive element were not neutralized, the reconciliation planned since the beginning could potentially be delayed—and that was the best case scenario.

And yet, with all the elements in such a state of flux, the fragile web could ill afford any further direct intervention. The end results were unclear, but would mostly like not be agreeable in the slightest.

Only one fact remained certain. All of the participants were still near their designated positions. The reconciliation would occur.

Whether the settlement would ultimately follow its proscribed route, however, not even the Source knew.

"So, you must be Duh-sad," Kara taunted once she awoke to find herself restrained in an Apokolips interrogation chamber.

"It's 'Desaad'," the craven scientist asserted sharply as her barb tore his attention from his console.

Several of the oddly dressed women spread around the chamber seemed to prefer Supergirl's rendition, however, if their poorly-concealed smiles were any indication.

"Whatever," the blonde woman casually dismissed before testing her bonds again. "And just so you know, I don't usually do this sort of thing on a first date." After her conventional attempts to free herself failed, Kara attempted to use her Heat vision to sever her restraints. Unfortunately, that tactic failed as well, the twin crimson laser beams rebounding off the metallic fetters before the ricochet was consumed by an energy field surrounding her 'bed'. "Ya know, Duh-Sad, this… game… really isn't my thing, and I've already got a boyfriend to play it with if it was."

The short, robed figure smiled maliciously. "Jest while you can, Kryptonian," he advised while placing a strange-looking helmet on her head. "You'll soon be singing a very different tune."

Kara rolled her eyes. "I'm an Argosian, you Nitwit," she grumbled. "My home planet's name is Argo, not Krypton. If you're going to threaten me, you could at least do it correctly."

Desaad stomped back to his computer terminal. "How's this for a threat?" the Apokolips resident demanded. "As soon as I press this button, your entire consciousness will be subsumed by a construct of my own design. Perhaps you will be more congenial once you can think nothing more or less than what I tell you to."

"I'm guess that's about the only way a girl'd ever pay attention to you," she insulted cheerfully.

The gathered Furies did not even attempt to hide their mirth at that barb, choosing instead to openly laugh at the offended scientist.

Sending another glare at his infuriating captive, Desaad activated the mental conditioning probe and waited for the screams that would soon follow.

It would prove to be a long wait.

"You know, I do have other things to do today," Kara yawned, exaggerating a feeling of complete boredom. "If you're going to torture me, would you mind getting with the program?"

"I'm impressed, Desaad," Lashina admitted sarcastically as the man fidgeted over the terminal's connections. "What do you do after you lull the prisoners to sleep?"

The man's rapidly blinking stare re-surveyed the completely functional equipment. "I don't understand… everything checks out perfectly! She must be blocking the probe somehow."

Kara smiled as she suddenly realized that one of the 'features' of her outfit that Joe gave her for her birthday must be responsible for the failed cerebral attack.

"What's the matter?" she asked innocently. "Forget to pay your power bill or something?"

"Never fear," the scientist assured his disapproving audience, "I can simply amplify the signal." After several adjustments to the control panel, Desaad looked back to Kara's restrained form on the inclined table. "This will break through whatever meager defenses you managed to pull together."

The blonde woman shrugged as well as she could from her shackles before smiling in a teasing fashion. "I wouldn't bet on it."

Desaad threw the switch, causing the machine to reactivate with a much louder background noise.

Supergirl sighed in an over-the-top manner. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she demanded.

The probe's hum grew more pronounced before sparks began fly from the electrical connections. Before he could react, the machine self-destructed with a remarkable explosion.

"Guess not," Kara answered herself with a grin.

The Doctor was carefully re-reading Merlin's journal as she made feverish notes with her unoccupied hand. Though the hypothesis was incomplete, the wizard's disjoined prose had sparked an idea in the back of her mind that had haunted the witch for weeks. Provided that the notes were accurate, she believed that the Flammels' alchemic formula could actually be refined for even greater potency—to say nothing of the potential results regarding the stone's improved longevity. With visions of guest-speaking invitations at the next Wizarding Medical Association meeting, Doctor reached for another sheet of parchment on the table in front of her—

—only to snatch her hand back quickly as a body appeared in mid-air and landed atop her work table.

"Why do I have this sudden suspicion that Mr. Black is somehow responsible for this?" Doctor asked the unconscious blonde woman. Withdrawing her wand, the witch proceeded to cast several diagnostic charms on her unscheduled patient. "Now, let's see… breathing's normal… heartbeat's accelerated slightly above human norm, but still okay… no serious physical wounds… And you're wearing some of our armor?" the witch continued her diagnosis aloud. "I guess Harry really does know you, then."

Exploring her patient's condition further, Doctor began testing the other female for magical residue.

"Hmm… no signs of hexes or curses… that's odd, some sort of Portkey? Enough of one to trigger your clothes' emergency Portkey redirection charms, anyway." The mediwitch shrugged. "Well, whoever you are, it seems safe enough to wake you. Enervate."

Her patient's eyes twitched briefly before, with a rush of wind, the woman was standing at the other side of the room.

"Where am I?" the new arrival demanded. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Doctor squeezed the bridge of her nose tiredly, before straightening up her disheveled papers that had recently served as the other woman's bedding.

"Let's see. In order: Black Island, you may call me Doctor, and I want to know what caused you to pop into my laboratory."

"Black Island?"

"Yes, home of several endangered or misunderstood magical species, a large group of inventive crackpots, and myself," Doctor answered. "Oh, and Mr. Black as well—when he isn't wandering into other peoples dimensions, realities and whatnot."

"This is Joe's place?"

The witch frowned. "Joe? Who's Joe?"

"I meant Mr. Black."

"It is," the mediwitch replied. A heartbeat later, she smilingly asked, "You call him 'Joe'?"

"Kara started it," the other woman maturely defended.

The mediwitch frowned in confusion. "From Mr. Black's description, I thought that you might be Kara. If you're not her, then who are you?"

"Oh, I'm her… sister… Galatea," the blonde metahuman introduced herself, "and I really need to get back to my world… universe… whatever."

In the dead of space, Metron pondered the nature of the inevitable.

The chronicler had been around since the First World—as it was called—but it was not until the relatively recent creation of the Fourth World that he even knew something had gone wrong. It was this confusion that led to his vow of neutrality, as well as his quest to explain the variation. He had long suspected that the Anti-Life Equation was responsible for the flawed Fourth World, but cryptic clues gleaned from the Source led him to suspect that such was not the case.

In any event, his travels across the myriad paths of infinity were not wholly without results. With much effort, the supposed New God had obtained a tiny remnant of the Anti-Life Equation. While hardly powerful in and of itself, Metron hoped to use the fragment as a key to understand the greater mystery.

To that end, he had secreted the Equation's fragment within a Mother Box that he, in turn, concealed behind the Source Wall. With his only gambit employed, Metron began his vigil to draw out the Anti-Life Equation, or to at least divine its fate. When others began seeking his prize, the chronicler added those individuals to his surveillance agenda.

Metron huffed in resigned amusement. "And all for naught," he admitted aloud. After all his many attempts to question the Source, the ancient entity finally revealed a small portion of the ever-deepening mystery.

And then sought compensation by issuing his current task.

Tiredly, Metron massaged his temples.

Why, in the Source's name, did Mr. Black have to visit his reality?

"Okay, Cerberus," Harry addressed the large, three-headed dog as the two—or four, depending on one's point of view—appeared in the middle of the street outside of the Justice League's Metro Tower. "Let's get you some lunch, and then we'll see about getting B'Wanna Beast or Vixen to dog-sit you. If I remember right, they're both down here today."

The canine whined piteously.

"Yes, I know that there was plenty for you to chew on back there," the wizard admitted, "but it's best that you not gnaw on my colleagues—bad politics, you understand. Besides, you don't know where they've been."

Three giant heads grumbled in begrudged agreement.

Harry shook his head at Hades' idea of a 'peace offering'. "Now, let's see what we can—"

Cerberus suddenly growled, redirecting his owner's attention to the sickly yellow bubble rapidly descending from orbit. It seemed to almost be on a collision course with the Metro Tower.

"Good eyes, Boy," Harry praised. Once he realized exactly who was inside the hard light construct, the wizard smiled darkly. "Let's go say hello."

Activating his coat's Fidelius-powered stealth feature, the magician Apparated inside of the downward-moving structure and proceeded to Stun and disarm the unsuspecting villains. Once the crimson light of the Stunning Hex collided with the yellow ring bearer Sinestro, however, the spherical battleground dissolved.

"Oops," Harry muttered to himself before casting his own flight charm and chasing after the unconscious criminals, who were rapidly speeding towards the ground and their imminent deaths. Fortunately for the individuals in question, the one-time Gryffindor Seeker was more than capable of retrieving them.

As the wizard noticed the bald head of one captive, however, he smiled darkly. "Hello, Lex Luthor. I do believe that I promised to kill you when next we met. I look forward to proving that I'm not a liar."

As Harry lowered the group to the ground, he seized an odd box clipped to Luthor's belt and began mentally cataloging the other confiscated items.

"Hmm… this has some promise," he muttered as he placed the strange device on his own belt before inspecting a sickly yellow ring and a deep purple sapphire. "These could prove handy, too…"

"Henchgirl! Professor! Come over here!" the Doctor yelled from the door to the laboratory.

"Whatever the Veela have done now, Pencil will just have to handle it himself—I don't care how uncomfortable they make him. I've got to finish this project for Mr. Black!" Henchgirl called out tiredly as she worked over a glowing circuit board on the table before her.

"That's why I know you'll want to meet my new friend here," the mediwitch insisted.

"Fine," the inventor grumbled. "Don't connect that line, Professor!" she shouted to the other side of an ornate mirror surrounded by other large pieces of equipment. At his equally vocal response, the blonde witch approached the two new arrivals.

"In case you didn't notice, we're pretty busy working the kinks out of the new prototype. We've installed a power regulator to allow for magical people, but it still goes into meltdown whenever we power up the thing. What's so urgent, Doctor?"

"Henchgirl, meet Galatea. She's Kara's sister that Mr. Black was telling us about." Turning to the metahuman, Doctor added, "Galatea, this is Henchgirl—one of our chief inventors, Potions Mistress, and Mr. Black's other sister."

The displaced Argosian clone smiled. "I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances, but it's urgent that I get back to my dimension. There's a very evil man who's somehow come back to life, apparently kidnapped Kara, and probably's going to attack the Earth. I need to get back and warn them."

"I can Floo Mr. Black, Pamela, or one of the kids—they can sound the alarm," Henchgirl said distractedly. "Umm… what are the chances that Mr. Black's not found out about the Kara-gone-missing thing yet?"

Galatea looked at her watch. "Beats me," she admitted, "but I wouldn't bet against him knowing by now."

Doctor and Henchgirl looked at each other in growing alarm.

Noticing the look, the white-clad blonde asked, "What's the big deal? Joe handles this sort of thing all the time, right? I mean, just last week he single-handedly beat up a couple of Greek gods and turned back their entire demonic army."

"WHAT!?" Henchgirl bellowed wildly. "HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO DO SOMETHING SO… SO…"

"Gryffindorish?" the Professor offered. "Brave? Heroic?"

"SO STUPIDLY HEROIC!" the inventive witch continued to rant as Doctor eased her wand out of her sleeve. "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM, I'M GONNA… tell him that he doesn't always have to save everyone himself."

Sighing in relief as her Calming Charm took effect, Doctor stowed her wand back up her robe sleeve.

"Thanks, I needed that," Henchgirl admitted.

"Any time," the Mediwitch promised.

"So… what were we talking about again?"

"Mr. Black fighting the forces of Darkness?" Galatea prompted.

Henchgirl nodded sharply. "Right, then. Unfortunately, Mr. Black does intervene in these sorts of things with alarming regularity… but this time its personal," Henchgirl explained. After a moment's hesitation, she further confided, "The last time a Dark Lord captured someone that Mr. Black cared for… he sort of… overreacted. It wasn't pretty. We almost lost him—not to the dark git, but to Mr. Black's own dark side. Now, after all he's been through… if Kara's hurt… look, we just need to get to him before he does something we'll all regret."

"Maybe someone can calm him down before he overreacts," Doctor suggested hopefully. "He's made friends in that dimension, right?"

Henchgirl stared blankly at her colleague for several moments.

"Right, I'll just Floo Mr. Black, then," Doctor announced contritely.

The potions mistress nodded sharply in agreement before returning to her work with renewed vigor.

Galatea wandered over and inspected the repairs that the other blonde was making. "You've got that diode reversed," she noted almost casually.

"What?" the witch mumbled distractedly.

"That diode-looking object there… in the middle of those two glowing crystal things," the metahuman clarified. "I think that you've got its polarities reversed. If those magical doohickeys behave like regular power sources, then the way you've got these other components would—"

"—bypass the power regulator, sending a feedback surge through the tachyon capacitor!" Henchgirl finished excitedly. "You may just be on to something, Galatea!" The witch waved her wand over the circuit and the components in question rearranged themselves. Installing the modified part back into an open portion of the mirror's frame, she called out, "Okay, Professor, try it now!"

"Contact!" the wizard yelled as the glass turned several different colors before settling on a rippling light blue.

"Initiating diagnostics!" Henchgirl called out as she performed several checks on the new upgrade. "I think that's done it!"

"It's alive, Henchgirl!" the Professor cackled as he darted around from behind the odd device. "It's alive!"

"Ignore the troll," the Potions mistress advised dryly as she slapped the short man in the back of the head, "we all do."

"Ow!" the Professor complained. "What was that for?"

"For messing up such a simple circuit and banishing Mr. Black to another dimension for the past several months," the witch explained calmly.

The absent-minded wizard nodded slowly. "Oh… right. That."

"Yes, that!" Henchgirl spat before slapping him again. Turning back to the other blonde, she added, "Tell me, Galatea… how would you like a job?"

One of the Metrotower's attendants ran noisily into the monitoring room. "Superman!" the man shouted. "You'd better get outside quick!"

The Kryptonian complied, alongside several other League members. Much to their shock, upon the Metrotower's steps were a good percentage of their various rogues' galleries. Such a turn of events was certainly out of the ordinary, but the truly surprising aspect was the giant, three-headed dog standing guard over the unconscious group.

Normally, such a scene would immediately spark a frenzied investigation into how such an event occurred. The Justice League, however, was far too experienced to react in such a manner.

The fact that Mr. Black was calmly standing next to the aforementioned canine while talking into his cigarette lighter helped to fill in a few blanks as well.

After an expedient, nominating shove forward from Diana, Superman approached the other man cautiously. "Uhh… Mr. Black? May I ask what happened?" he asked while staring at the drooling body of Lex Luthor in disgusted fascination.

Harry put away his lighter abruptly. "This lot was flying right for the Metro tower, so I took the precaution of Stunning them for interrogation."

Diana strode forward and frowned at the unconscious captives. "I wonder why they were heading here…"

"I'm more concerned right now with where they just left," Harry replied, before looking directly at Clark. "Darkseid's back."

"What!?"

"Somehow, Darkseid has been resurrected," Harry supplied. "Kara and Galatea drifted a little too close to Apokolips on their return flight, and were attacked by him and their ship was destroyed. From what I gather, Darkseid hit Tea with his Omega Beams, but my protections on her uniform sent her to my island, instead."

Harry took a deep breath. "It's unclear whether Kara escaped and is simply unable to contact us, or if she was captured. I was just preparing to search for her when this bunch popped in for a visit."

"We've been keeping a close eye on Apokolips for years now!" Clark protested. "If Darkseid's returned, he must have done so very recently."

Batman stared at the unconscious group for a few moments in thought. "The timing is rather suspicious. Roughly fifty percent of our combined Rogues' galleries look like they've just escaped a war zone and seek us out? We need more information."

The Man of Steel knelt down and seized Luthor's shirt in one clenched fist. "Let's start the interrogations with this one."

Harry quickly weighed his options. He could either take Mortis out to the attack site—whose coordinates Galatea could only approximate—or gamble that the criminals laying at his feet could provide him with more useful information.

Hoping that Kara could wait a few moments more, Harry withdrew a small bottle filled with Veritaserum from Henchgirl's travel pack.

"Open his mouth," the wizard ordered grimly.

Darkseid was, in a word, pleased. Not only had he been resurrected by a wandering band of humans, but the Universe itself welcomed him back to life with the means of destroying that detested Superman. Once his newest Fury had been properly… molded… he would use the girl-child to spread death and destruction upon the Terran home world. This planet Earth was the center of far too many cosmic events to remain outside of his control.

The dictator smiled as his mind returned to comforting thoughts of Superman's pending humiliation and eventual destruction. With his new Fury clearing his path to Metropolis, the so-called "Man of Steel" would either be destroyed by the girl's unwilling hand, or destroy himself in the act of taking the female's life. Either way, the Kryptonian would certainly be weakened enough to succumb to his Omega Beams.

Yes, the future of his empire was bright indeed. And once the rabble was sufficiently tamed, he could finally learn the Anti-Life Equation and bring order to the otherwise chaotic universe.

"Hello, Darkseid," a dry, emotionless voice interrupted his private musings. "Welcome back to the realm of the living."

"Metron," the New God grunted irritably. "What do you want now?"

The oddly-dressed man hovered closer in his Mobius chair. "As ever, I endeavor towards the pursuit of knowledge," the other deity admitted. "Apropos, I thought you should know that your recent… actions… may have long-term consequences—both for you and your people."

Darkseid stared at the seated busybody before chuckling derisively. "Are you finally joining a side, Metron?"

The entity folded his hands together and rested his head atop them. "Nothing quite as drastic as that, Uxas. As you well know, I remain neutral in these matters. I simply came to give you fair warning and advice, as always."

The dark being laughed at the prissy chastisement. "Very well, then. Since you speak nothing but the truth and desire only knowledge, tell me your warning."

The white-haired figure reclined in his hovering throne-chair. "As we speak, there are events unfolding on the human planet known as Earth, events which are both disruptive and unexpected. And at their source is a single being, an entity personifying the 'Anti-Life Equation' in all its known forms."

The chronicler held up one hand in warning at the covetous look that fell across Darkseid's face.

"Be warned, however. The actions you have taken this day have earned you a most relentless and terrifying enemy. He gathers information on your strengths and weaknesses even now, and he will soon descend upon this world without hesitation or mercy. If you value your life, or those of your people, I would advise you and your hosts to withdraw far from here. He seeks that which you have stolen from him, and he will destroy all that would block his path."

For the first time since he had been resurrected, the iron-fisted ruler of Apokolips laughed. "And what property have I supposedly seized? What mere physical object could possibly hold any meaning to such an entity?"

"He seeks the girl," Metron announced gravely. "He has claimed her for his own, and has bestowed protections upon her to defeat precisely what you are attempting to do."

The wielder of the Omega Force stared at his 'guest' for several moments. "Leave," the dictator finally ordered, "I will take this under advisement."

Metron bowed his head. "I pray that you do, Darkseid… for all our sakes."

"Okay, that should do it," Galatea announced as she fastened the last panel on the duplicate machine that the Argosian had helped assemble at superhuman speeds. "Try it now."

The Professor cackled madly and reached for the activation controls—that is, until a white blur tackled him away from the critical system, leaving him suspended from a coat hook on the far opposing wall. A second blur left Galatea once again standing next to Henchgirl, except this time she was brushing her hands off in a satisfied manner.

Feeling the collective gazes of the room's other occupants, the metahuman shrugged her shoulders. "What? Joe needs help, and you said that the midget's responsible for fragging the last several prototypes."

Henchgirl and Doctor glanced at each other and smiled, before returning their attention to their guest.

"You know, I think that you'll fit in our little family just fine," Doctor announced while her fellow witch beamed happily at gaining a new partner-in-cri—err… research assistant.

"'ello, 'enchgirl!" an accented voice called out from the doorway. "'enchgirl, are you 'ere?"

The Potions mistress pinched the bridge of her nose as a flock of Veela strolled impudently into her laboratory. "What now?" she demanded resignedly.

The apparent leader of the group strode up to the control panel. "We wanted to know if t'ere was any new information on Meester Black," the lead Veela announced.

"Who are you?" Galatea asked curiously at witnessing the group's collective eagerness for a response to their query.

"My name ees Adrienne," the accented blonde replied, barely sparing the Argosian notice before returning her gaze to the female inventor. "Now, 'as t'ere been any word from t'ees… other dimension?"

In turn, Henchgirl pointed at the extraterrestrial. "She just came from there."

"Merveilleux!" the Veela cheered happily. "So, t'ees machine… it works both ways then, yes?"

"That's what I was trying to establish!" the Professor grumbled from his elevated position atop the coat hook. "Apparently, Mr. Black was ultimately responsible for sending this girl here."

Sighed comments of "très romantique" could be heard from the predominately French crowd.

Glaring at the group and wishing fervently that they would depart, Henchgirl grumpily added, "There's a war brewing over there, you see, and Mr. Black is right in the middle of it!"

The group huddled inward, and the others caught only garbled pieces of the rapid exchanges.

"We understand," Adrienne admitted moments later on behalf of the group. "We will see to our own business, and let you finish without further interruption. Dames," she ordered while turning to face the other Veela, "Allons-y!"

As the group of exotic women filed orderly out of the laboratory, the remaining occupants looked at each other curiously.

"Where do you think they're going?" Doctor suddenly asked.

Henchgirl simply shook her head. "I have no idea." Putting the extremely un-Veela-like reaction from her mind, the witch directed her attention on to more important matters.

"Okay, Galatea, let's test the bidirectional communication between the two mirrors. Doctor, do you have Fluffy?"

In response, the mediwitch held up a disheveled housecat. If one were to describe the expression on the feline's face, such adjectives as 'resigned' would spring to mind.

"Excellent!" the Potions Mistress cackled.

"Are you done yet?" Kara resignedly called out to the now extremely-agitated technician.

Turning around, Desaad threw what appeared to be a spanner wrench at the restrained blonde. "Do you ever shut up?!" he demanded in a shriek.

"Umm… no," the Argosian informed the man. "By the way, you dropped your wrench."

Desaad turned back to his latest attempt at retrieving information and blatantly ignored her.

"Hey, you mind letting me go for a couple minutes? I really need to go to the bathroom."

The inventor's silence was Kara's only reply.

"This is the song that never ends! It goes on and—"

"Gah!" Desaad yelled, before repeating clubbing his equipment with a heavy hand tool. "Be silent!"

Turning to Lashina as best as her restraints would allow, Supergirl asked, "So, how does this work, exactly? You gonna bore me to death, or what?"

Her answer came in the form of a man standing at ease upon a hovering disk.

"What is your status, Desaad?" Darkseid demanded immediately.

"Well, my lord," the obsequious underling began, "I have successfully—"

Kara interrupted, "—broken twenty seven mind probes, sixteen hypnosis machines, forty five different power tools… and the record for 'most incompetent bad guy ever'."

The Apokolips' ruler looked at Desaad threateningly. "Explain."

"S-she possesses some sort of telepathic-shielding device, my Lord," Desaad stammered. "I have not quite located it as yet but, rest assured—"

"Then remove her garments and destroy the device. My plans are too important to be delayed by such simple trickery."

The scientist wrung his hands nervously. "M-my Lord, the thing is… I—we!—are unable to… disrobe her. At all."

The room's attention directed itself to Kara, who shrugged as best she could given her restrained state. "What can I say? My boyfriend doesn't like to share."

The hulking dictator turned his crimson eyes on the cringing underling. You try my patience, Desaad."

"I-I will neutralize the device, O Mighty Darkseid. I need only a few more moments of preparation to implement your plan."

"You had best not fail me again, Desaad," Darkseid announced, "for your sake." Turning to address the other women present, the dictator ordered, "My Furies, go forth and lead the advance troops. Once they are engaged in battle, seek out the Kryptonian." The megalomaniac smiled grimly. "After all, I'm sure that he'd be interested in our guest's presence here."

"Yes, my Lord," Granny Goodness bowed before leading the rest of the native femme fatales out of the dungeon.

"You know, your flunkies haven't been very forthcoming with the details," Kara announced. "I've figured out that you're planning to invade the Earth—even though Superman kicked your butt the last two times you tried. What I can't figure out is why you're keeping me here. You went through an awful lot of trouble just to use me for bait."

"I would have thought it obvious," Darkseid replied disdainfully. "I originally intended to use you to keep Superman busy while I conquered the Earth. Then, assuming you had survived the assault, I would have repeated the process on New Genesis before resuming my search for the Anti-Life Equation. But now, Fate has once again delivered me a boon. There is no need for me to seek the Anti-Life Equation, not when I'm holding the one thing it desires most in the entire Universe."

Kara smiled nervously. "The 'Anti-Life Equation', huh?"

"The source of absolute power over all living things," he explained smugly. "With it, I will dominate the will of all sentient races."

"And how, exactly, do you plan to control such a force?" the Argosian queried. "According to what you just said, it would have complete control over you as well."

"Perhaps it would have… once," Darkseid allowed, "but I know its weakness. All I have to do to control the Anti-Life Equation… is to control you."

"W-what?" Kara demanded fearfully.

Ignoring her, Darkseid addressed his remaining minion. "Desaad, I must have what knowledge this female contains. The Anti-Life Equation has taken on flesh, and this child knows its face and name. I must have this information immediately!"

"O-of course, Sire," the torturer simpered, "I will extract the data you have commanded at once!"

"You had better," Darkseid threatened darkly as he floated out of the laboratory.

After Luthor's involuntary confession regarding Darkseid's resurrection—and, more importantly, the tyrant's stated goal of attacking the Earth once more—the Justice League members stared at each other.

"What is the chance that this is misinformation?" Batman finally asked.

"None," Harry answered grimly. "He had no choice but to be completely truthful about everything we were told. Darkseid is coming—all that remains is to notify everyone to help roll out the welcome mat. And while we're on that topic…"

The wizard quickly cast a group of Messenger spells, the luminescent stags immediately dashing off to their recipients.

"What in the world were those," Flash inquired with an amazed tone, "and where can I get one?"

Harry smiled slightly. "Those were… guardian spirits, I guess you could say. I gave them messages to deliver to a few friends, advising them of what we just learned."

"Cool!" the World's Fastest Man exclaimed. "We'd better do the same thing, though. Let everyone know what's comin—"

"Watchtower to Metrotower," a male voice interrupted, "we've got a situation!"

Superman turned his attention away from the captives and focused on the large communications display. "What's going on up there?"

"Multiple hyper spatial incursions," Mr. Terrific's voice announced, "but they're planet side. I'm sending telemetry."

Batman gave the displays a cursory glance. "Boomtubes," he grunted in response.

Superman nodded in agreement. "He's right. Can you hear it? Like thunder?"

Mr. Terrific began typing rapidly, display real-time video feeds from relay satellites scattered around the world.

"Good Lord!" the Green Lantern swore. "They're everywhere! Tokyo… London… Washington D.C.—"

A sudden and overbearing clap of thunder erupted over their heads.

"—and right outside our doorstep!" Batman perfunctorily announced before the League personnel rushed en masse to the exits.

Harry, however, had several advantages in such situations—namely, the abilities to Apparate and walk through walls. Therefore, it was no surprise that he tied with Flash for first place in the race to depart the Metrotower. As the other costumed heroes joined them, a strange portal opened across the street and disgorged several strange-appearing female figures.

"Well, this isn't good," the Fastest Man Alive announced in a disheartened tone.

Diana glared at the latest group of intruders. "You harpies made a big mistake coming here!" she exclaimed.

"Now, that's no way to talk to Granny, my little pumpkin," the squat, wizened form of Granny Goodness cackled.

Superman strode to the head of the group. "You may as well surrender," he advised the Apokoliptian shock troops confidently. "You've tried this before, and it didn't work out all that well for you the last time."

"Yes, but we weren't holding a certain something to ensure your good behavior the last time, you naughty boy!" the gray-haired harridan chided madly.

The huddled Justice League members began shivering as the rather comfortable fall temperature suddenly dropped to Arctic conditions.

"Where is Supergirl?" Harry quietly demanded.

"Aww!" the feral female mock-whined. "He figured it out already!"

The leather-clad Stompa snorted. "Well, ain't that a real kick in the pants?"

The wizard's fists instinctively contracted, the suddenly-pressured joints cracking audibly. "Tell. Me. NOW!" he growled.

In reply, a bandaged girl held out a Motherbox, which then projected a video recording of Kara attached to a laboratory table. Moments later, the image was replaced with Darkseid's visage.

"You are the Anti-Life Entity?" the tyrant inquired uncertainly.

"It's Death, you pathetic excuse for an Inferi!" Harry retorted coldly. "Now, release Supergirl unharmed and I promise to make your second demise quick and relatively painless."

"How droll," Darkseid commented. "If you want this female unmolested, you have only to surrender your power to me, and I'll release her."

"Oh?" Harry asked softly, as his eyes swiftly gleaned a dozen details of the broadcasted background as his hand discretely retrieved an item from his pocket. "Is that so?"

And then he smiled darkly, before using the compiled mental imagery as the destination of a slyly placed Black Hole. Upon visual confirmation of the portal creation's success, Harry reached through the magical construct and grasped onto the examination table in the televised background. One swift pull was sufficient to return the restrained blonde back to Earth, leaving Darkseid and his lackeys—on both sides of the connection—staring at him dumbly.

"How did you—?" Granny Goodness started to ask.

"Like this," Harry growled, not noticing as his human countenance melted away to reveal a menacing, fanged skeleton.

It was with only the most basic of thoughts when he used his undead speed to cross the short distance between the two groups. Likewise, it was almost by reflex when he batted the Motherbox out of Lashina's hand and seized Stompa's slightly raised leg.

Needless to say, he did not recognize using Re'em-enhanced strength to forcibly remove the aforementioned appendage from the adjacent trunk.

Or its twin.

Similarly, Harry failed to notice seizing the crouching Mad Harriet's energy claws and viciously sinking them into Lashina's stomach.

Or reusing them to identical effect on the feral Apokoliptian herself.

For that matter, the wizard would later be unable to explain how Lashina's steel bands suddenly transformed themselves into a trio of nooses attached to a convenient street lamp.

However, Harry's higher brain functions began reasserting themselves just in time to aid his animalistic side in populating those same nooses.

Grisly task complete, his hybrid-Dark Creature instincts finally settled down slightly, and his enhanced hearing detected Lashina's Motherbox finally striking the pavement just as his hands enveloped either side of the gray-haired head of Granny Goodness.

The entire exchange had taken less than a second.

Granny Goodness, the League's only opponent left standing, attempted to pull away weakly. "W-what are you?"

"VERY… VERY… ANNOYED!" he growled darkly, before a sharp exertion of muscle brought his hands together in a grisly spectacle.

Covered in gore, a still highly agitated Harry dashed over to the confiscated laboratory table. "Are you alright?" the wizard asked Kara as he violently tore away the reinforced restraints.

Wincing slightly, the shorter figure rubbed her wrists and attempted to stand. The attempt was quickly aborted, however, when her footing proved less than reliable. "Just peachy," she muttered as Harry Transfigured the table into something more comfortable and placed her back on it.

"Rest here for a minute," the wizard advised before pulling the scythe from his dragon hide bracer. "This won't take long."

He turned slightly to face the League. "You lot take care of the riff-raff on this end—I'll dispose of the Dark Tosser personally."

The Man of Steel showed signs of objection.

"It's time to face facts, Superman. You're a hero with a world to save; I'm a murdering psychopath with a gift for wanton destruction." Harry smiled darkly. "Let's play to our strengths, shall we? And speaking of which…"

Harry pulled out the Canopic jar that he won off Anubis and cracked open the lid. After the sudden cloud of black sand coalesced into several organized ranks of attentive humanoid infantry, he returned the jar to his pocket.

"Apokolips has invaded the Earth, and the parademons are attacking humanity," the wizard informed them briefly. "I'm going to dispose of their leader. When I return, I expect the threat to be neutralized. Do not, under any circumstances, harm the humans. Am I understood?"

The jackals laid a fist over their hearts in salute.

"Dismissed," Harry ordered, and the Jackal horde burst back into sand before flying off in every direction.

Making a mental note to thank Anubis later, Harry approached his Black Hole before stopping. "Oh, by the way, Galatea's safe and sound with my family. So, don't be surprised if they pop on by for a quick visit. And, Cerberus?" The dog barked attentively. "Be a good hellhound and watch the prisoners for me."

The three-headed dog barked affirmatively.

With his message delivered, one large step through the portal returned Harry to Kara's abductor and his laughable reinforcements.

His sudden arrival sent Kalibak blundering backwards in surprise—before a swift stroke of his scythe permanently rendered the flabbergasted expression upon the now-severed head. Harry then swept the weighted end of his scythe across the room, and the fleeing Desaad was immediately dispatched by the full force of a rage-powered Disembowelment Curse.

Returning the Black Hole to his coat to minimize his quarry's chances of escape, Harry smiled at the still-dumbfounded Darkseid. "By the way, Crater Face. You know that 'quick and relatively painless' bit I promised earlier?"

The enraged wizard smiled widely, displaying his fangs.

"I lied."

Raven excused herself from yet another overly-curious Death and made her way back to Grim and Bill.

"This is getting downright weird," the purple-haired girl commented dryly to the pair of skeletons. "I mean, I know that Father has certain notoriety in the mortal realms, but here as well? I mean, you'd think he was a rock star or something!"

"Mister Black is… very complicated," Grim finally admitted. "He's one of dose dat helped out a lotta people over de years, and da boss's made several friends because of dat." The Reaper considered the matter further before adding, "He's made a lotta enemies, too, but 'dey seem to die in 'accidents' before dey can do any'ding."

The Jamaican skeleton was interrupted by a set of invisible bells—which, the girl noticed, was chiming some sort of funeral dirge.

"Oh, goody!" Grim exclaimed. "Dey're going to announce de winners!"

"The winners of what?" Raven demanded as she struggled to keep up with the swiftly-running reaper.

Grim glanced at the girl and nearly rolled his eyes at her. Or, at least he would have if she wasn't his boss's daughter. And if he had eyes to roll. Which he didn't.

"De contest, of course!"

At witnessing Raven's ominous glare and finding it uncomfortably similar to that of his own granddaughter, Bill volunteered some additional information as they hurried towards the auditorium. "AT EACH CENTENNIAL CONVENTION, WE GIVE AN AWARD FOR CERTAIN EVENTS—LIKE THE MOST UNUSUAL SOUL REAPING, OR MOST SOULS GATHERED ON A SINGLE COLLECTION." The reverberating voice seemed to dim slightly in pitch and almost grumbled, "ANUBIS IS EXPECTED TO MAKE A SWEEP THIS CENTURY, DUE TO SOME EVENTS IN HAMUNAPTRA AND AHM SHERE SOME SEVEN DECADES AGO."

The girl nodded, and then looked around at the milling crowd. "I still don't see Father anywhere," she noted.

"Ah, I'm sure he'll be fine," Grim replied. "He'll be here before you know it."

Raven looked unconvinced, but kept her misgivings to herself.

Once all the Union members had found seats, their Māori host appeared on the stage and began her introductory speech—leaving Raven to wonder exactly what was keeping her father.

The tall figure garbed in a purple robe smiled slightly as he scribbled a few notes into his ever-present book.

"Eons of work now have to be reconsidered because of you," the man noted in a detached manner. "I wonder… Do you even care that a perfectly ordered system now lies in ruins because of you? That the fates of millions have been irrevocably altered due to your intervention, to those you inspire to embrace freedom and eventual Chaos? If things continue upon this disordered path that you have chosen, the very fabric of the Multiverse might unravel."

The blind entity made another alteration to the Cosmic Log chained to his right wrist. "Control must be regained and, since you are the party responsible, you shall be the one charged to correct the matter."

The eldest of the Endless laid his Book down and reclined in his chair. Smiling as he sensed his manipulations begin to filter through the fabric of reality, the robed being calmly offered one final rhetorical question.

"Tell me, Mr. Black. Do you believe in Destiny now?"

Darkseid grunted as his assailant, the supposed Anti-Life Entity, slammed him into the ground again.

"On your feet!" Harry growled. "You're not escaping me that easily!"

Slowly reaching towards his belt, the dictator grunted in exertion and threw a device in the vengeful wizard's direction.

With a snort, the wizard Banished what appeared to be an electrified net back at his victim… err, opponent.

"Huh," Harry huffed in wonder as the New God immediately fell back to the floor, writhing in agony. "A Cruciatus net…?"

The corners of his mouth started creeping upwards again.

"How… interesting."

Despite the pained groans and grunts of despair, the dark god managed to destroy the device with a burst of Omega Beams.

Frowning slightly at the lost toy, Harry swept forward and kicked the recumbent dictator in the head. "You know, you seem awfully attached to those eyes."

Harry suddenly smiled menacingly.

"I hope you don't mind if I change that."

Darkseid bellowed in pain as the solid red orbs were ruthlessly Summoned out of his head.

"Let's have another round of applause for Samael, the winner of this century's 'Most Souls Seduced to a Premature Demise' award!" Hine-nui-te-pō called. After her Talmudic associate vacated the stage, the Polynesian deity scanned her list and continued. "All right, everyone. Our next area of competition is the coveted 'Most Souls Collected in a Single Day' award."

"HERE IT COMES," Bill somehow managed to mutter as the jackal god Anubis straightened in his seat.

"The competition was fierce this century," their host continued, "but after careful consideration, our panel of judges has decided—"

Hine-nui-te-pō was interrupted by the chamber doors opening violently, announcing the new arrival to the hall. The entrant—a skeleton in a business suit—rushed to the stage and whispered something to the Mistress of Ceremonies.

"Of course," her magically-amplified reply echoed around the auditorium, "bring them in at once!" Addressing the crowd again, she continued, "Ladies and Gentle-Deaths, I apologize for the interruption, but I have just been informed that there is a rather… interesting broadcast on the PNN."

Several of the animated skeleton attendants quickly set up large television screens on the auditorium's stage.

"For those of you just joining us," the television announcer commented, "there is a late-breaking development in the mortal realm. It seems that the most recent wielder of the fabled Omega Force, King Uxas of Apokolips—whom most would recognize as the tyrant Darkseid—has been somehow resurrected without authorization and has renewed hostilities against the Terran home world. We have learned that this particular dimension is also the latest stop on Mr. Black's 'vacation'. Those of you familiar with this entity will recall exactly what sort of occurrences take place during these 'vacations'. Upon learning of Darkseid's return to power, Mr. Black had this to say. I warn you, however, that the following footage may not be suitable for deities under level two."

After the grisly altercation had played, the news anchor reappeared on the screen. "As you just witnessed, this 'Supergirl'—whom we have since determined to be Mr. Black's acknowledged Death Maid—has been abducted by Darkseid. In return, Mr. Black has declared war on the entire Apokolips system, as well as its resident pantheon of New Gods. It remains to be seen if Mr. Black will be called into account on this blatant misuse of—"

The announcer suddenly stopped speaking, and the murmur of someone speaking off-camera was heard. "What did you just say?"

More muttering could be detected in the background.

"How is that even possible?!" the announcer demanded shrilly.

The low-pitched drone grew more insistent.

"Ladies and Gentle-Deaths, there has been a sudden and unexpected development in this incident. A new prophecy—apparently concealed from detection since its creation countless ages past—has just been discovered in our archives. I am told that this particular account has been authenticated as originating from the Cosmic Log itself which, of course, contains all past, present, and future events."

The announcer loosened his necktie and took several preparatory breaths. "This document foretells the return of an ancient cosmic entity, thought lost to this particular dimension since the war of the old gods. The being is known by many names… 'The Beast of Judgment' is one such title, as is 'The Dark at the End of Everything'. Be advised, the ender of universes, gods, and worlds—of everything—has returned from the obscurity of the ages."

The announcer swallowed carefully.

"Once known as the Anti-Life Entity, it now calls itself by a new name—Mr. Black. And Mr. Black is most assuredly not happy."

After a slight hesitation, the broadcaster continued. "For the duration of this conflict, the planets of Earth and Apokolips have been declared unsafe for all entities not classified as Level One Unlimited. We will, of course, continue broadcasting coverage of this intergalactic war—just as soon as our remote crew has received a change of undergarments. As for this reporter… I'm getting a drink. Good evening and goodbye! "

Raven turned and glared at Grim. "He'll be fine, huh?"

Grim scratched the back of his skull sheepishly while Bill stared at his feet. "Well… technically, he is still perfectly fine," the Jamaican reaper attempted to explain.

The sudden appearance of a silvery stag cut off the teenage girl's inquisition. Trotting up to the young witch, the Patronus opened its mouth and—surprisingly—began to speak.

"Raven," Harry's voice emitted from the magical construct, "in case you haven't heard, someone resurrected Darkseid and he somehow managed to kidnap Kara. I'm going to save her, and then kill Darkseid and his minions. Please stay there and I'll be back to get you just as soon as I finish killing off what's left of the Apokoliptian army. Oh, and if the Black Racer is there—he's the prat with the skis, by the way—tell him that I've got a bone to pick with him about how Darkseid's soul escaped from Hadis under his watch. You might let him know that I'll be most… displeased… if I have to go looking for him. Stay safe, and I'll be with you soon."

Its message delivered, the stag disappeared.

The purple-haired witch growled. "Well, what are two you waiting for? Let's go, already!"

"Go where?" the Grim Reaper asked nervously—while discretely moving his scythe between himself and the teenager.

"To Earth, or wherever Father is at the moment."

"AH, YES, ABOUT THAT," Bill began.

"You see, Mr. Black is a very busy… very scary man," Grim explained. "And besides, it not be our place to interfere in de affairs of de living."

"GRIM IS QUITE CORRECT," his associate agreed immediately. "WE ARE GENERALLY ENCOURAGED AGAINST INTERFER—"

Raven snarled and seized Grim's scythe from his slackened grip. "Fine, I'll do it myself!" Putting Grim's earlier instruction to use, the witch slashed a small portal into existence and stomped out of the underworld.

"Heh, how 'bout dat?" Grim rhetorically asked as he rubbed the back of his skull. "Are we sure dat de girl's adopted?" He shook his head. "Da boss isn't gonna be happy 'bout dis, is he, Bill?"

The reaper turned around to find that the addressed incarnation of Death had vanished, and that his remaining fellows were giving him a lot of personal space.

"Eh, Bill?"

With a sudden rush of air, Galatea reappeared in the Black Ink laboratory.

"It's done," the Argosian clone announced.

"You've upgraded the fleet's inter-dimensional projectors already?" Henchgirl demanded. "I didn't realize that you could control time as well."

"Oh, I can't," Galatea admitted. "I'm just really fast. And, yes, I made the upgrades that you wanted—but I still don't see what good a bunch of antique ships are gonna do against a space navy the size of Darkseid's."

"Trust me," Doctor answered, "if they were good enough to fend off a full-scale Romulan assault, then they're good enough for an undead dictator. Now, all we need's a crew."

"We 'ave already taken care of ze personnel," an accented French voice announced as Fleur Delacour—who was dressed in taut leather armor and carried a bow and stocked quiver upon her back—led a similarly-attired contingent of Veela into the laboratory/war room.

"Excuse me?" Henchgirl demanded confusedly as she took in the exceptionally un-Veela-like demeanor of the new arrivals. "What's with the Joan of Arc motif?"

"Mister Black did not tell you?" the French witch inquired with a smile. "I was ze… team captain… of ze Beaubatons Archery Club. Mister Black is the one who suggested that I teach ze ozzers." Fleur dismissed the matter with a wave of one dainty hand. "Now, ze crew 'as already been gathered and is waiting in ze courtyard."

"Who'd you get on such short notice?" the Medi Witch inquired.

"Well, ze Veela… ze Kitsune… ze Yuki Onna… zhose Aurors that are always 'anging around… zom dragons that Mr. Black flew with last zummer… several of zhose vampires and werewolves… my William iz gathering a few goblin troops…"

"And you're going to squeeze all of that onto our ships?" Doctor demanded incredulously.

"Don't be ridiculous," the French witch retorted. "Zom of zem will ride on ze Knight Bus. Monsieur Stan was most… 'ow do you say… accommodating?"

"I'm sure he was," Henchgirl agreed dryly.

Galatea blinked. "And you were able to get all of those… people… to agree to hop into another dimension's war… just like that?"

"We are Veela, and he iz Mr. Black," Fleur supplied with a shrug. "Between ze two reasons, ze ozzers could not refuse. So, shall we go?"

"After a lifetime of searching, I finally find a girl that likes me for myself!" Harry groused.

KA-RACK!

"Not to mention that she's adventurous and loves to experiment!"

WHACK!

"You pathetic, bastardly excuse for an Inferi!"

POUND!

"You didn't even have enough sense to stay dead!"

CRUNCH!

"And you had to go and kidnap her as part of some half-arsed attempt at a planetary invasion!"

SQUELCH!

"Not on my watch, you pretentious maggot!"

SPLEEN!

Destiny leaned back in his chair and permitted himself a brief smile. Not only were events back on course, but he finally achieved a measure of satisfaction from the ever disruptive Mr. Black. Now with both mortals and lesser gods convinced of his newfound status, the freedom-sponsoring rebel would never have the normal life he craved.

The fact that the recent influx of chaos would be twisted back into the original design was a nice bonus, as well.

The eldest of the Endless would have chortled, had such a display not been so unseemly.

"And what has you so happy?" a cheerful female voice called from behind him.

Destiny spun around to find the expected gothic form of his eldest sister, who was intently inspecting the nearby flora in his garden. "Whatever do you mean, Death?"

"It's nice to see you, too, Brother Dear," the spunky woman replied. "I just received some rather… unexpected… news, and thought that you might shed some light on the subject."

"Oh?" the blind man replied curiously. "And what subject might that be?"

Staring intently at the robed figure, Death asked, "Why, exactly, does it seem like half of Creation is suddenly convinced that Mr. Black… that Harry… is—"

"The missing half of the Source?" Destiny offered.

"So you do know what's going on, then?"

In reply, the man patted his ever-present book meaningfully. The significance of the Cosmic Log—which contained the entire sum of existence—was not lost on his sibling, who rolled her eyes.

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it!" she huffed irritably. "What flight of lunacy convinced you to do it? And don't bother denying it—this whole mess has your non-existent fingerprints all over it. And another thing—is that a new grove of trees?"

The robed individual blinked. "What trees?"

"Those right over there! The ones that weren't here the last time I visited, that have been extinct for the last several eons, and have bows tied around them!"

Destiny stiffened slightly. "They were a gift." he offered.

Death squeezed the bridge of her nose. "Please tell me that you weren't bribed into altering the very fabric of reality for a few plants!"

"Your… colleague… is quite a disruptive influence," Destiny noted calmly. "Measures had to be taken to ensure that control was maintained. Rest assured that my only contribution was to insure that a certain manuscript was discovered at the optimal time, nothing more. Once Mr. Black learns of this new development, he should finally realize how inappropriate his influence truly is, and moderate himself accordingly."

"Uh, huh," his sister commented in an extremely unconvinced manner, "and what are you going to do if this sudden swell of belief manifests itself? He's talented enough at killing supposedly immortal opponents already. Don't you think it might be a bad time to be in your shoes at that point?"

"Do not concern yourself in this matter, Death," the elder sibling instructed. "Mr. Black has no more abilities now than he did before—it is only a few specific beings whose perception has been harmlessly affected."

"But what if you're wrong?" the pale-skinned female pressed. "Would you just check on it, Destiny? Please?"

The male personification sighed. "Very well," he agreed, before leisurely paging through his volume. "As I said, Death, there is nothing to—wait a moment! That passage wasn't there before!" Destiny began rapidly flipping through the relative future chapters. "This cannot be! It's—"

"Impossible?" Death offered. "Yeah, the kid's really good at that." She looked contemplative. "Of course, he's also really good at beating the stuffing out of people who prevent him from living a 'normal life'—whatever that means." She hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder how he'd do against an anthropomorphic personification that cramped that whole 'normal human life' thing he had going."

Her eldest sibling let the large tome slide from suddenly nerveless fingers. "Still, I know of this Mr. Black's nature," he said, as if attempting to reassure himself. "He is not given to extended periods of contemplation."

Death smiled wryly. "True enough, but he is given to roughing up anyone encroaching on another's Free Will—especially his own."

Her brother's lips turned upwards slightly. "He will not find his way to this, the Garden of Forking Ways. After all, I recall that he has a deep-seated distaste for mazes."

The gothic woman nodded in agreement. "Unless, of course, your sigil and contact info just so happen to make their way to him. Accidents happen, after all."

Destiny stared at his visitor helplessly, as visions of scythe-wielding, book-burning savages plagued his mind.

Clark looked at Bruce and Diana over the still-broadcasting Motherbox. "You know, as much as part of me wants to complain because of what I suspect he's referring to, I find that I'm actually enjoying watching Darkseid get pummeled. Shouldn't that disturb me?"

"Personally, I find his technique inventive," the Dark Knight replied, attention never wavering from the live video feed.

Diana brushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm intrigued at the noises his blows are making," the shapely Amazon admitted. "I was under the impression that 'spleen' was a bodily organ, not a sound effect."

"It must have been named after what it sounds like when you're hit by one," the Man of Steel conjectured, wincing as Mr. Black executed another savage—though entirely warranted, in his opinion—attack.

Batman tilted his head to the right thoughtfully. "I would have said that was physically impossible, but I'm looking at the proof right now," he finally admitted. "You know, we should probably go help the others take out the warships."

"In a minute," Clark waved distractedly. "It's just getting good."

"Owww," Kara groaned as she gingerly regained her footing. "That really smarts!"

Making sure that the Metrotower's security system was recording the transmission, her cousin rushed to her side and inspected a raised bump on the back of her head.

"Hey, so does that!" the Argosian complained. "Watch it, you—!"

SPLEEN!

The Girl of Steel blinked owlishly as her attention drifted to the ensuing fight. "Since when is 'Spleen' a sound effect?"

"Since when do Apokoliptians have two of them?" Diana appended incredulously.

Kara quickly took in the gory, televised scene. "Right then, if you'll excuse me?" The blonde woman's uniform faded to a monochromatic version of itself—the coloring not unlike that of her god-slaying paramour. Seizing the still-broadcasting Motherbox and recalling her last foray to the foul planet, she pressed the appropriate buttons from memory and created a Boom Tube back to Apokolips. "You kids behave yourselves, now. I'm gonna go keep Joe out of trouble."

Before any of the remaining Leaguers could respond, Supergirl flew through the intra-dimensional portal and Vanished.

Clark just shook his head resignedly. "All right, since it seems like Apokolips is no longer any of our concern, let's go reinforce the others. We've still got a job to do."

"What about them?" Batman demanded, gesturing at the bound super villains adhered to a wall.

"I think that Tartarus's watchdog should be up to the task," Diana professed, "which is probably why Mr. Black summoned it in the first place."

Cerberus barked authoritatively at them before re-focusing his attention on the Legion's remains.

"Whatever," Batman grunted. "Let's go."

A staccato of sharp barks roused the golden trio's attention just in time to witness a vertical slash appear in midair. Moments later, a familiar figure stepped through, allowing the tear to heal itself.

"And… we're through!" Henchgirl announced, engrossed in the hastily erected displays in the zeppelin's cabin. "All ships accounted for. Do we have a vector?"

Doctor's eyes involuntarily narrowed. "Mr. Black's Zippo locator just disappeared from the screen. I thought you said you fixed this thing!"

"I did fix it!" the Professor protested from the wheel. "Try hitting it on the side!"

"Now it says 'Signal lost'!" the Mediwitch replied.

The little man smiled nervously as every witch present suddenly glowered at him. "Just a tiny glitch—nothing to worry about," the inventor squeaked. "What was his last location again?"

The Doctor relayed the heading, promises of physical retaliation evident in every syllable.