Anger & Sorrow

Mark knelt in the middle of the ruined town, his body trembling uncontrollably. The weight of everything, the destruction of Bayview, the murder of his friends, the loss of Raven, all of it crashed down on him like a tidal wave. His fists were clenched, his head hung low, his breath shallow and ragged.

"Raven..." he whispered. Her name slipped out, barely audible, lost in the air thick with smoke and ash.

Then, like a cruel twist of fate, memories started flashing in his mind, one after another. He could see her sitting down on the couch, reading one of her many books. She always had that calm, focused look when she read, but then she'd shift slightly, laying her head on his shoulder. The warmth of her against him... it felt so distant now, so unreal.

His hands dug into the dirt, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

Next came the memory of her in the kitchen, struggling to cook. Amelia was there, guiding her, but Raven looked utterly lost, her expression puzzled yet so damn cute. She had never been good in the kitchen, but she tried anyway, for him. He had laughed at her, not mocking, just appreciating the effort. Now, that moment was nothing more than a shadow in his head.

Mark gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with tears.

He saw her smiling at him, that soft smile she saved just for him, as she stood by the front door of the mansion. The way her face lit up when he came home, it always made everything better. He'd give anything to see that smile again, but it was gone, taken from him. And then, the final memory hit him like a punch to the gut. Their wedding. She'd stood there, looking beautiful, her voice filled with emotion when she told him she loved him. The way she said it, like it was the most important thing in the world, like it was something she had never allowed herself to feel before.

"I love you," he heard her say again, echoing in his mind.

Mark couldn't take it anymore. He screamed, a pain filled scream, and slammed his fists into the ground. The pain, the anger, the loss—it all came out in that one moment. His fists hit the dirt again, and again, and again, creating a massive crater. He screamed until his throat felt raw, until his voice broke. It started to rain. The cold droplets soaked him, mixing with the hot tears streaming down his face, but he didn't stop. The ground around him began to shift and crack as his powers spiraled out of control. Gravity twisted and buckled, the earth itself shattering under the weight of his rage. The ruined town was nearly leveled, the force of his power tearing through the ground like a bomb had gone off. Mark didn't stop until something small and metallic slipped from his finger and caught his attention. He froze, his eyes widening as he saw the wedding ring—his ring—rolling away from him before falling into the cracked earth. His breath hitched, and he reached for it desperately, grabbing it and holding it tightly in his palm.

"I'll get you back... I promise..." he whispered through clenched teeth.

He stood up, staring at the ring for a moment before glancing around, his mind racing. He had to do something—anything—to get her back.

"Hey, hey, you... whoever's in my head... help me," he said, desperation lacing his voice.

[How can I... be... b-be of assistance.]

The voice was back, glitchy and distorted.

[Apologies... I-I seem... seem to be experiencing some technical issues.]

"I don't care! Just tell me how I can reopen the portal!" Mark demanded, standing up straighter, his body tense with determination.

[I-I... I am a-afraid that is not possible.]

Mark's frustration flared. "What do you mean?" he barked, nearly shouting at the voice in his head.

[You are unable to generate the necessary quantum energy required to reopen the portal using its remaining residual charge.]

The voice was slowly getting clearer, each word becoming less garbled, but its answer wasn't what Mark wanted to hear. His mind scrambled for a solution.

"So what, I just need to find someone who can use magic?" Mark asked, almost pleading.

[A simplistic solution, but theoretically plausible. My systems lack sufficient data on arcane energy manipulation. Additional analysis would be required.]

Mark nodded, trying to calm his frantic thoughts. "Fine. That's a start."

He began to move, pushing past the rubble and destruction. He had to leave Bayview—or what was left of it. There was no time to waste. But before he could go, there was one last thing he needed to do. Mark trudged back to the ruins of their home, his feet dragging through the rubble and debris. His eyes scanned the destruction, searching for anything that remained. He sifted through broken wood and shattered glass, his hands working furiously until he found what he was looking for—a framed photo, miraculously intact.

It was a picture of him and Raven, his arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her head. They were smiling—real smiles, not the half-hearted ones they used to wear before they found each other. It was one of the happiest moments of his life. His hands trembled as he held the picture, his vision blurring again as the tears threatened to fall. He swallowed hard, stuffing the photo into his pocket and steeling himself.

"I'll get you back. I promise," he whispered.

Mark looked over to the remains of his house there was bits of debris around the whole area, where the house originally was, now was only a throne. Mark felt rage bubble through him before he lifted his hand and shot a red sphere of energy destroying it. He turned back and started to sift through the remains of the house, flipping over debris and half-burnt wood. Nothing. His clothes had either been destroyed in the fight. Everything was scorched, torn, or completely obliterated. He looked down at himself seeing his naked body.  "Great," Mark muttered to himself, giving up on his search. He'd have to find something else once he got out of town.

Stepping outside, he took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything settle on his shoulders again. Raven had been taken, and Bayview was obliterated. He had no time to waste, he bent his knees and focused on lightening his body using his gravity abilities. He pushed off the ground, using a combination of attraction and repulsion to lift himself into the air. But before he could get far, the voice piped up again.

[User, your use of abilities to achieve flight is highly inefficient.]

Mark gritted his teeth. "Call me Mark, not user."

[Acknowledged, Mark.]

He sighed, half-expecting the voice to go away, but it didn't. "What do you mean inefficient?" he asked, hoping the explanation would at least be useful.

[Biometric scans indicate you are a Viltrumite-Human hybrid. The ability to control your own leverage is innate in Viltrumite DNA.]

Viltrumite? That was new. A part of him wanted to stop and process the idea that he wasn't fully human, but now wasn't the time. He had bigger problems. "So how do I do it?" he asked, not really expecting an immediate answer. It was more like he was talking to himself, trying to wrap his head around this new information.

[Stop using your abilities and simply urge yourself forward like you would if you were walking.]

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure," he muttered, before giving it a shot. He relaxed, stopped pushing with his powers, and tried to will himself forward. Instead of soaring gracefully, he immediately plummeted toward the ground, crashing through a tree and smashing into the dirt. The impact sent a shock through his body, but nothing was broken—just sore and irritated.

He groaned, shoving himself back up. "I don't have time for this crap," he said through clenched teeth.

Still, he tried again, focusing this time on the instructions. He urged himself up gently, as if he was walking, like the voice said. To his surprise, it worked. He felt himself lift off the ground steadily, no need for force or excessive power. He rose higher and higher into the sky, his eyes widening as he ascended.

A strange headache crept up on him, along with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. He wasn't sure why, but this—flying—felt so natural, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. "Why does this feel so easy?" he whispered, wondering why it came so naturally when he'd never done it consciously. He hovered for a moment before taking off, shooting across the sky much faster than he had before. His speed increased exponentially as he pushed south, heading towards the states, his mind focused on finding anyone who could help him.

[Warning. Oncoming energy field.]

Mark's brow furrowed. "Will it hurt me?"

[Unknown.]

He shrugged and went faster, not slowing down as he approached the energy field. The moment he hit it, it felt like he had shattered glass, the barrier cracking apart and disintegrating as he flew through. But then something shifted. His head spun violently, and his vision blurred. The world tilted sideways, and before he knew it, he was spiraling down toward the ground. With a loud crash, he slammed into the earth, his body skidding through dirt and grass. He tried to push himself up, but a wave of dizziness hit him like a truck. His stomach churned, and without warning, he vomited violently, the sensation making everything worse.

"What the fuck is happening?" he gasped, trying to steady himself as he keeled over again, barely able to get his bearings.

[Analysis shows the barrier functioned as a temporal bubble. Time was accelerated within the bubble, and your body is now readjusting to external chronological flow.]

Mark grunted, struggling to get up but feeling his head spin again. "Like jet lag?" he asked, though it felt a hell of a lot worse.

[If jet lag were a thousand times worse, then yes.]

He gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to stand again. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. "What was the ratio?" he asked through gritted teeth.

[It appears that while over a year passed inside the bubble, barely a week has passed outside.]

"Fuck," Mark cursed, stumbling again before managing to stand. His whole body ached, but he had to keep moving. He staggered forward, leaning against a tree as the nausea hit him again. Mark pushed himself off the tree and onto one knee, the earth trembling slightly beneath him as he did. He clenched his fists and looked forward. With a loud grunt, he shot up into the sky, his body rocketing toward the south. The cold wind bit into his skin, but he ignored it, his thoughts focused only on Raven.

A few minutes later, multiple zeta tubes opened up at the outskirts of the now-destroyed Bayview. Zatara, John Constantine, Detective Chimp, Superman, and Cyborg stepped through. As soon as John exited, he pulled his collar up against the biting wind.

"Bloody hell, forgot how cold it gets up here," John muttered, glancing enviously at Detective Chimp, who seemed unfazed by the chill. "You alright, mate?" he asked the chimp, who barely reacted, his attention focused on the destroyed landscape before them.

"Impossible..." Zatara breathed, moving forward, his eyes wide. "I placed multiple alarm spells in case something happened with the barrier. Yet..." He approached the barrier, it must've happened instantaneously for his alarm runes to not trigger, the only reason he knew something was wrong was because he had felt his connection to them severe. "The barrier is gone. And not just gone—shattered." Zatara kneeled down, running his fingers over the earth. "The enchantments were overwhelmed by sheer force."

"You see this, John?" Zatara asked, looking over at Constantine. John nodded and stepped forward, careful not to pass beyond the boundary that Zatara indicated. He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and lit it with the end of his cigarette. The smoke turned white, swirling upward.

"Yeah," John said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Whatever broke through, it didn't use any kind of magic."

Detective Chimp, standing nearby, crossed his arms and nodded. "If the barrier was that strong, there had to be a weakness. Barriers like this have pressure points. From the inside, a single punch from someone like Superman would shatter it."

Superman walked forward, intending to pass the broken barrier line, but John raised his hand. "I wouldn't do that, mate."

Superman stepped forward anyway, but after just a few steps, he fell to one knee, groaning before doubling over and vomiting violently onto the snow-covered ground. Victor moved quickly toward him but was stopped by Zatara, who held him back.

"Wait," Zatara warned, holding out his hand. Cyborg scanned the area, his sensors whirring as his mechanical eye flickered.

"It's...a temporal bubble," Cyborg said.

John nodded, taking another puff of his cigarette. "Yeah, crossing them is a real pain in the arse. Give it a few minutes. Should sync back with the rest of the universe soon enough."

Superman wiped his mouth and stood slowly, wincing as he did. "That does not feel good," he said, his voice strained.

John gave him a firm pat on the back. "Come on, big guy. You'll be fine."

Victor's mechanical eye flickered again as he continued to scan the surroundings. "There's a lot of energy left over from something big. Whatever happened here, it wasn't pretty."

Zatara nodded grimly. "It's finally time to discover what was hidden here."

John stepped forward, pulling a small metal key from his pocket and muttering an incantation. A glowing portal opened in front of them, leading deeper inland. "After you, lads," he said, gesturing them through.

They stepped through the portal and arrived at what remained of Bayview. The town was completely gone, nothing but a crater and scattered debris left in its place. Zatara's face paled as he took in the destruction, while John's expression darkened. Even Superman frowned as he scanned the area.

"Bloody hell..." John muttered, shaking his head. The ground around them had been completely obliterated there was nothing but a large crater, no homes, no roads, no remnants of Bayview whatsoever. Cyborg and Detective Chimp stood a few paces away, both staring at the massive crater in front of them.

"This... this wasn't just destruction," Zatara said, his voice shaking with anger. "This was sacrificial magic."

Superman's brow furrowed, and he took a step closer to Zatara. "What do you mean?"

Zatara stood up, his fists clenched. "Thousands of people were killed here. Their souls harvested to fuel a ritual. Things like this stains the area like a cancer. I can still feel their lingering pain... their screams." He turned away, his hands trembling slightly.

Superman's eyes darkened. "And you're sure?"

Zatara nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.

John took a drag from his cigarette, his expression cold. "They're animals. Whoever did this... I've seen some sick things, but this?"

Victor scanned the area, trying to make sense of what his sensors were picking up. "It's hard to read anything here, but there's a lot of residual energy. Whatever they were doing, it tore open a massive portal."

"Likely the ritual they used, creating a permanent doorway between two places... there's likely no survivors," Zatara finally said, his voice firm but filled with sorrow.

Superman's jaw tightened. "There's no one left?"

Zatara shook his head. "No one. They were all sacrificed. The souls... they're gone, the only thing left are lingering emotions."

Victor looked at the ground, frustrated. "So, what do we do now? We can't just walk away from this."

"You don't wanna hang around here too long," John cut in, pointing at Superman and Cyborg. "Especially you, mate."

"Why?" Superman asked, his arms crossed.

"Magic leaves an impression on reality," Zatara explained. "Places like this... they don't recover easily. The rules here are altered. Temporarily, in most cases."

John took another puff, glancing around. "Though in some cases, powerful magic can leave a permanent stain. That's how you get hauntings, curses, ghosts... that sort of thing."

Superman looked at Zatara, who nodded in agreement. "It's cursed, basically. And it'll take time before we know exactly what kind of lingering effects there are. We have protection, but you don't."

Victor gritted his teeth, wanting to protest, but after a moment, he and Superman relented. As they prepared to leave, Detective Chimp suddenly held up his hand.

"You missed something important," he said calmly.

They all turned to him. "What is it?" Cyborg asked, his mechanical eye zooming in.

Detective Chimp pointed to the fractured barrier. "If the barrier shattered from the inside, that means there was a survivor."

The realization hit them all at once, and a chill crept up their spines. Whatever had been inside that barrier—whatever had shattered it—was now out in the world.

————————————————————

Mark sat inside a New York McDonald's, hunched over a table, finishing his fifteenth double cheeseburger. His stomach should've been bursting by now, but no matter how much he ate, it felt like he wasn't even scratching the surface of his hunger. He wiped the grease off his hands and leaned back in his seat, glancing around at the bustling restaurant before letting out a long sigh. He'd snagged a bunch of clothes from some guy in the countryside earlier that day—a lumberjack who was careless enough to leave his clothes hanging out on the line. After that, he made his way to New York, where he stole someone's laptop. The AI in his head —who insisted on being called Eve— said she needed it to connect to the net. So here he was, trying to figure out his next move while downing burgers.

"Run it through for me again," Mark said, finishing another bite.

[Certainly, Mark,] Eve responded in her robotic voice. [I am currently scanning the net for any and all references to arcane practices and anyone that might be able to assist you in reopening the portal.]

"Found anything?"

[Affirmative. There are currently 500,266,727 hits related to arcane practices and 34,208,002 mentions of practitioners. It will take some time to filter through them and weed out the fakes.]

Mark nodded. It wasn't much of a surprise. He wasn't going to find some magical solution overnight, but at least it was something. He rubbed his temples, the mental exhaustion of everything creeping up on him.

[I suggest you rest, Mark. Your energy levels are still far below optimal.]

"A nap doesn't sound too bad," he muttered, though the last thing he wanted was to deal with the nightmares that would undoubtedly creep their way into his sleep. He finished the burger, stood up, and shut the laptop. "Do we still need this?" he asked.

[Negative. I am now connected to the net and can continue the search independently.]

With a grunt, Mark left the McDonald's, stepping out into the noisy, crowded streets of New York. People bustled around him, taxis honked, and the scent of exhaust filled the air. It was strange being in such a massive city after spending so long in the quiet, isolated town of Bayview.

Bayview.

He stopped walking for a second, gritting his teeth. The pain was still fresh. Even if it wasn't him directly, his body had been used to destroy everything, to kill everyone he cared about. Gary. Amelia. Emma. Megan. All of them gone. And he hadn't even had time to grieve properly. Not yet. He needed to find Raven. He needed to bring her back home. Mark didn't know how long he had been walking when he snapped out of his thoughts. He came to a stop, staring up at an apartment building. The top of it looked damaged, with scaffolding and builders repairing it. For some reason, he felt a wave of déjà vu wash over him.

"This place seems familiar," he muttered.

[Your memories were suppressed by the entity that previously inhabited your body. They will begin to surface as your neural pathways are repaired,] Eve informed him.

"So that means I've been here before?" Mark asked, more to himself than to Eve.

[It's highly likely.]

He was about to take a step closer to the building when the wail of police sirens filled the air, followed by the sound of gunfire. Down the road, a black car sped by, several people inside leaning out the windows and firing back at the police chasing them. One of the squad cars swerved and crashed into a bodega, sending debris flying.

"What a shithole," Mark muttered under his breath, stepping onto the road as the car raced toward him. The criminals didn't even try to steer away, the car speeding directly at him. With a deafening crash, the vehicle folded around Mark like a tin can, the metal screeching as it crumpled from the impact. He barely moved, his body standing tall as the wrecked car hissed and sputtered at his feet. The criminals inside groaned in pain, slowly recovering from the crash. Mark walked over and, with one hand, ripped the roof off the car, tossing it aside like a piece of cardboard. He gestured with his hand, and their guns flew out of their hands, landing in a pile behind him.

He was ready to do more—ready to crush them—but something made him hesitate. He was angry. So damn angry. But killing because he was upset wouldn't fix anything. He stepped away, turning his back on the criminals, leaving them for the cops as he walked into an alley. Before the police could catch up, he shot into the air, flying up to a nearby rooftop.

Mark hovered over the city, looking around as chaos unfolded below. Buildings were on fire, people were screaming, and even someone with superpowers was trying to burn down Central Park.

"What the hell is wrong with this place?" he thought to himself. New York was supposed to be better than this. He'd never imagined it would be such a mess.

A shiver ran down his spine, and before he could react, something grabbed him by the neck, slamming him through several buildings in a blur. He crashed through walls, furniture, and concrete before being hurled across the ocean at near supersonic speed. Mark skimmed the surface of the water, barely able to regain his balance before coming to a stop.

"What the fuck—" he started, looking up as a dark-skinned, bald man floated down from the sky, a grin spread across his face.

"Nolan said you were dead," the man said, cracking his neck as he slowly descended toward Mark. "Seems that's something else he was wrong about."

Mark didn't recognize him, but something about the man felt off. He exuded power, and the way he floated so casually in front of Mark made it clear he wasn't here for a friendly chat.

The man stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. "At least make this a little entertaining before I drag you back to base," he sneered before launching himself toward Mark.

Mark barely had time to react before the fight began.

(AN: So Mark is back out in the world and he's trying to find a way to open the portal. Lucan has found Mark something that's surprising no doubt though I don't think he'll find Mark as easy to take down as he thinks. Let's hope their fight doesn't attract the attention of Anissa, or maybe we should hope it does 😏. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)

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