EMERALD DAWN III

by Andrew Getting -- kestre1@airmail.net


In Brightest Day

1:30 AM Tuesday.

"Rayner here," Kyle said, juggling the cellular to his shoulder and getting back to work. He'd gotten the idea from something Arsenal said a while back about the old Titans HQ, but he wasn't sure whether to go with Superman's original costume or the blue one.

"Hey, Kyle, it's Guy. The people from the Red Cross called for you again. They're double-checking the date to make sure you can do the gig. Woman sounded kind of ticked. What was your excuse last time?"

"Er... let's see." Television, with the camera set on the fight. "Yeah, J'onn and I were fighting another intergalactic menace. Tell the Cross that I've already got the Flash and Hawk... er, Zauriel lined up to cover for me with the JLA. I'll be there for sure."

"You got it."

"Oh, Guy? Why're you taking messages for me? Don't you have better things to do?"

"Kid, the bar gets messages for everyone from Booster Gold to some idiot named 'Six-Pac'. Mostly, the other people do the calls. I'm the only one who knows your phone number."

"Ah. Thanks." The Red Cross. Crap, he thinks. A couple years at this and I still don't get it.

"We have a problem, Kyle." Ganthet's voice bellows throughout the apartment, chopping Superman's head off with a quick stroke.


One day ago. A world without hope.

"How are the life signs?" Truth be told, the two pink, bald scientists were bored. They'd been at this nearly a year.

"Stable. He's hallucinating, and mumbles something about a 'wog'. Are you positive he's the one we're supposed to implant?"

"Of course he is. The Solar Distortion Unit was created to catch the attention of someone as powerful as he is. Anything weaker couldn't hold the master's essence."

"I saw the specs. I was talking about HIM."

"Yes, well, life's full of little ironies."

I can hear them, he thought. In a glass tube full of something that looked like aloe gel and felt like chunky peanut butter, the first consciousness stirred.

"Hold on. He's conscious."

"How do you know? The instruments don't read anything."

"He's moving, you idiot. He's looking at us right now."

His thoughts coagulated slowly. He remembered the oath, and the dissolution of his body. He had no idea what the Soul Eater was at the time he'd died, but with a glance about the lab, he knew who'd been responsible. Two bald men with eyes like baseballs smiled at him. He was on Qward.

"So he is. Begin the implantation."

Pain lanced through his mind. He looked at the Qwardians, and knew he hated them. He remembered the Earth, all of them, and knew he wanted them destroyed. He remembered himself, as he was, and knew he was all powerful.

"Release him."

Hal Jordan stepped forward as his chamber drained. The gel on his skin cooled him, but the heat was still nearly unbearable. Damn it, he thought, can't I even die right? The two Qwardians grinned their mad little grins.

"The Master is reborn!"

"Always full of melodrama, aren't you?"

"Sorry, it's that Khan guy's teachings. You never forget. How are you, Master?"

"Aside from that little bit of mindbending you just did, I'm fine. You, however, are in serious trouble."

The light absorbed them. Across the Anti-Matter Universe, a wall of white light claimed everything. An entire universe died in the course of hours.


2:12 AM. Tuesday.

"Guy? Tell the Red Cross I'm not going to be able to make it." Kyle's eyes remain on the little glowing gem in Ganthet's hand, even as its light died.

"We may have a whole new problem here."

To Be Continued...


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