Previously in Justice League…

They are Earth’s greatest heroes, united in a common goal against threats too large to face alone. Standing for truth, justice and freedom, they are the Justice League. Or they were, before Chronos altered the timeline. One by one the Justice League falls. First the Martian Manhunter, then Aquaman, leaving their former cohorts with no memory of their existence. Meanwhile, the dwarf planet Ceres is on an unexpected collision course, threatening the integrity of Earth itself.

Executive Order

Part III

By Miranda Sparks

Central City (for now)

There were fewer things in the world Wally West loved more than a research rabbit hole. Okay, maybe ‘loved’ was too strong a word, or even ‘enjoyed’. What Wally West could not stand were gaps in his knowledge. He had to know what things were and how they worked, or else he couldn’t sleep at night. It happened often enough that it passed for a hobby, and the gratification of learning was real enough. So when the words ‘Justice League’ popped into his head, he had to know everything. Except that everything from Google to the Encyclopedia Britannica came up short. How? Justice League meant something. He just knew it!

One major downside of being the ‘Fastest Man Alive’™ was also having the fastest brain alive. Not necessarily the smartest brain, or the most intuitive, but one with a processing speed that left a lot of room for idle thought. It was three-oh-five. Usually he’d have an answer by three oh six, but there were no clues anywhere! So he did what clever people do, and phoned a friend. Well, not ‘phone’ as much as race to New York, New York (for now) to make an unannounced house call. (Texting would take too long.)

Wally knocked on the apartment door like a hummingbird sipping a triple shot. Unfortunately, a startled Kyle Rayner didn’t have any answers, either.

“Justice League, huh. Is that a baseball thing?”

Kyle Rayner – Green Lantern – artsy type, and totally in over his head. Beating up bad guys with the ‘Most Powerful Weapon in the Universe’™ on his ring finger. You’d think someone who’d been to the centre of the universe and back would have insider knowledge on… well, anything. No, that wasn’t fair. Kyle was a good guy, and he could handle himself in a scrap. Carefree, but not careless. Green in nearly every way, but more ‘Lantern’ where it counts. Over their dozen or so team-ups, the Flash had come to count on him as a friend.

“You know that a dwarf planet has us in its crosshairs,” he said, as if to remind the speedster that their predicament wasn’t normal.

Wally waved it off. “That’s a job for Superman. Don’t worry. Big blue’s got it in the bag.”

“I don’t know,” Kyle said. “Outer space is kind of my thing. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a hand. ‘Blue and Green’, the next ‘Brave and the Bold’?”

Weird that he should be jealous.

“You ever meet him?” he asked.

Kyle shook his head.

“If you had, you’d know he’s all over this,” Wally said. “He’s Superman, for Pete’s sake! I heard that he can fly so fast that he can turn back time!”

Kyle blinked. “That… does that even work?”

“Works for me,” Wally said a little too easily. “Which means you can focus on my ‘Justice League’ problem. Come on. Don’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious.”

He was right. Kyle was curious, and the moment he’d said the words out loud they were wedged in his psyche like a hard to reach popcorn kernel. This was important, even if he couldn’t say why. Which was why in a matter of minutes – minutes, because Green Lantern could only fly so fast on Earth – the two were in Washington, D.C. (for now) in the company of Firestorm.

“Justice League,” the kid said. “Is that, like, some kind of a basketball thing?”

“Maybe the ‘phone a friend’ option wasn’t as clever as I thought,” the now-costumed Flash remarked.

Firestorm may have had the proportions of a man, but there was no mistaking the kid under the flaming hair. But what he lacked in experience, he made up for bravery and enthusiasm. Weird to think that little over a year ago Wally and Kyle were just like him. He hung in the air like some haunted thing. Green Lantern was doing it too. It always put the Flash on edge. Why couldn’t these flying types set their feet down during a conversation? It seemed rude, somehow.

“Sorry,” Firestorm said. “Wish I could be more help.”

“Look, I like the kid, but I don’t know why you thought he’d be useful,” Green Lantern said in a whisper.

The Flash frowned. “I’m going through my contacts, seeing who knows what. Cut me some slack, would ya?”

While they bickered, so did Firestorm with… himself?

“Babe, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “No, seriously!”

Green Lantern cocked an eyebrow. “Who are you talking to?”

Firestorm stopped. He looked away, as though looking at someone else. “Are you sure?” Apparently the invisible someone was sure. Firestorm shrugged. “I can’t believe we’re coming out to Flash and Green Lantern,” he muttered.

Both heroes shielded their eyes, and gave way to the peels of flame cascading down the nuclear un-reaction. Where one hero once floated now stood a pair of young men, hand in hand, only slightly less close than they were in a single body.

The white kid, a lean jock type, spoke with Firestorm’s voice. “I’m Ronnie,” he said, “and, uh, this is my boyfriend, Jason.”

Jason waved with a shy grin. Standing at cheek height and dressed in a button shirt and khakis, he and Jason couldn’t be more different if they tried.

The Flash cocked his head. “What exactly am I looking at here?”

Green Lantern smiled. “I think they’re cute.”

“You guys really have no idea who the Justice League are?” the lanky boy asked.

“Should we?” said Green Lantern.

The Flash leaned closer – a little too close for Ronnie’s liking. At last, the truth!

“Don’t look at me! I’m just as confused as you are!” Ronnie said.

Jason tensed. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” he said, “but you’re the Justice League.” 

“Him or me?” asked Green Lantern, pointing between himself and the Flash.

“Both of you,” Jason explained. “Together with Superman, and Wonder Woman…”

“That loony legionnaire LARPer that thinks she’s from a magical island of women?” Flash laughed. “No offense, kid. But I’d rather pair up with that screwball from Gotham City.”

“Batman’s also in the Justice League,” said Jason.

Ronnie whistled. “That’s an all-star lineup. Anyone else?”

“Aquaman, and the Martian Manhunter.”

“Who?”

Jason fretted as only he could do, his brow contorting like an old man’s. They couldn’t be serious, and yet neither Flash, GL or his own boyfriend seemed to have a clue.

“Something’s happened to the universe,” he said, knowing exactly how it sounded.

“Like, what? Time travel?” Green Lantern asked, more seriously than he maybe should have.

“That doesn’t explain why you remember and we don’t,” said the Flash.

Ronnie shrugged. “Could be something to do with his quantum state. Didn’t Professor Stein say only one of us technically occupied space-time when we merge? I don’t know the details, but you get what I mean, right?”

“More or less,” Jason said with a goofy smile. He squeezed Ronnie’s hand. Most people blew him off as a meathead, but Jason knew better.

The Flash nodded, as though it were the most reasonable thing he’d ever heard. “Assuming that’s true, what now? We gather up the rest of the League, find the missing whoever? ‘Martian Man’.”

“Superman’s off-world, deflecting a giant-ass meteor,” Green Lantern said.

“Dwarf planet,” Jason corrected.

“Which,” he said, flashing his ring, “is where I should be.”

“You’ll never make it that far, Green Machine.”

A stranger in silver and sapphire stood aside with a tech-sword in hand. When did he get there? That didn’t matter.

“Is this guy on the Justice League?” asked the Flash.

Jason shook his head, dumbly.

“Then let’s not waste time talking,” he said.

Chronos slashed reality in defiance of physics, and from the gashes bled two human shapes; one in red with a tin hat, and the other in orange with a long, purple cape. They looked like heroes from an old black and white serial, but neither Flash, Green Lantern, or the kids that made up Firestorm recognized them.

The sword articulated a digital command. “ACCESS SYSTEM: EARTH-2, PRE-CRISIS > FLASH, GREEN LANTERN.”

“Meet your counterparts from another multiverse,” Chronos said.

What was that supposed to mean? A second Earth? Some kind of crisis? But the Flash had a more important question.

“Is one of them supposed to be a Green Lantern? Because I don’t see any green.”

The red phantom offered no banter, and between blinks rushed the heroes. It would have been a cinch to knock them off their feet, to steal first blood, were it not for the reflexes of the Fastest Man Alive – fastest in this world, at any rate. Flash and Flash clashed, racing in streaks of crimson, and colliding with blows that shattered the sound barrier.

Chronos hummed. He needn’t have matched the heroes in their own arena. All he needed was the right ‘trophy’. 

The green phantom lashed out with a gargantuan emerald limb. The light construct knocked his contemporary into the sky and into the chosen battleground. Lantern and Lantern grappled in a contest of will and imagination, summoning shapes through their rings.

Of course the phantoms weren’t designed to beat the other heroes – they were only shadows of a reflection of a memory, after all. Rather they existed to soften his targets, and to tire them for a kill. All that remained were the boys. Chronos hadn’t anticipated their presence.

“Run along now,” he said. “I hear your mom calling.”

They didn’t run. Instead the young men held hands, and in a wave of heat joined into a single, burning entity. It took two to make a Firestorm. In this reality it was love that forged their bond.

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and guess you’re the guy going after the Justice League,” said Firestorm.

The villain bristled. “You’re not supposed to know that name.”

How could they know? The timeline had been altered! No matter. All it meant was an addendum to his hitlist, marked in blood.

He struck with nullifying energy blazing through his sword. The kid was clumsy. Two were stronger than one, but the slowest always held up the herd. If only romantic harmony lent itself to guile they might have stood a chance. The blade swept with a heavy woosh clean through the hero’s chest, but left no mark. Chronos and Firestorm blinked in amazement. How was he still there, and in one piece?

“Somehow you’re in two places at the same time,” Chronos spat. “Damn it!”

Firestorm’s fists exploded with heat, knocking the time traveler off balance. Chronos flew through a pigeon coop before smashing into a concrete wall. It’d been a long time since someone hit him like that. Not in the Superman class, but his pride still felt it.

“Switch targets,” he ordered into his gauntlet.

Suddenly a gust turned on the rooftop and snatched Firestorm from mid air. It swirled like a cyclone in miniature in shades of red mingled with the hero’s flaming mane.

With all the haste he could muster, Chronos turned his watch, slowing time to a crawl. All was still, save for the fist on a collision course with his face. He jumped back, narrowly avoiding impact. And then it accelerated! Chronos wound the clock, slowing events ever more. Yet no matter how thickly the seconds dripped, the Flash kept a moderate pace, defying the laws of the universe to land a blow. He turned and turned the watch, fighting to draw out every moment.

“You were always a pain in my ass,” Chronos said – more than the Supermen, more than the Wonder Women. They were also the most satisfying to put down.

He pressed the tip of his blade to the speedster’s chest and released the hands of the clock. Time eased back to the mundane, but not so rapidly as to allow the Flash room to escape. The Scarlet Speedster, trapped by his own momentum, ran himself through Chronos’ cursed weapon, and by the atom slipped away to nothingness.

In the confusion he pressed the advantage. Pieces of time fell like sand through a hollow opening, rearranging memories and making sense of the gaps. Only those beyond such things held their composure; men like Chronos, whose existence was elevated from this plane.

Green Lantern paused to look for… something, someone. What was he doing there? Poor sucker. Didn’t realise he was still in battle. Too caught in the ‘why’ to face the struggle at hand. He had a friend a moment ago, and then there was a sword skewering his torso. Rayner was never the brightest lantern, and now he was less than that. Chonos claimed his fourth victim. Still, his work was only half done.

Firestorm looked around, poor confused fool that he was. If you’d asked about a Flash or a Green Lantern he’d come up short. Maybe not his other half, though. Time moved strangely around the pair. He thought for a moment, but Chronos vanished, deciding not to kill them. Too much work for too little yield. Besides, he had a schedule to keep. Less than two days to the end of the world, and there were still three who could stop it.

“They’re gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

Ronnie searched the sky. All he saw was the Lincoln Monument and a whole lot of DC. Not much else, especially not people.

“You don’t remember,” Jason said, mournfully.

Uh oh. He knew that tone. There was Jason’s background levels of grief, and then there was the stuff that really got under his skin. Firestorm hugged his chest, as though by doing so Ronnie could comfort his boyfriend. They lowered to the nearest rooftop, and though they came apart were still holding each other for dear life.

“Don’t remember what?” Ronnie asked, terrified it was an anniversary or something just as important.

Jason blinked tears from his eyes. “Flash. Green Lantern.”

“What are those? Are they people? Super-people, like us?”

“They used to be,” Jason said, choking on sobs.

It didn’t need to make sense for Ronnie to know his place. If Jason fell apart, he was there to pick up the pieces. Pain for one was pain for both. That’s what made them partners, through thick and thin.

The outskirts of Gotham City

It doesn’t take a fortune to move unseen through a high security area, but it helps. The light refracting stealth cloak, made from the same material that concealed tanks and jets, cost more than a little. The drone mounted with an infrared camera, not nearly as much. Both saved the detective hours of toil when moving through the grounds of Arkham Asylum.

Locals regarded the facility as a haunted house, despite the residents being very much alive. If these walls could talk, they would scream. Only the most vicious were condemned to call such a place ‘home’, along with the unfortunates assigned to be their keepers. Despite its name it was anything but a place of healing.

Batman scaled the towers with agility sharpened over a lifetime. The sweeping cameras caught only a smudge in their vision, too subtle for a guard to notice at first glance. Hell, it would take an expert eye and hours of review to pick up a trace in the footage. Money and resources served him just as well as discipline.

There was no shortage of sickos, escape attempts or corruption to keep Batman coming back, much as he hated it. Most patients knew the difference between right and wrong, and were better suited to a prison cell. For all the system’s flaws, they had a better chance reforming behind bars than they did in this factory of evil.

But it wasn’t the occupants that drew the dark knight to these rooftops. Rather, it was the bird’s eye view of a man, decked in a cyber-suit that didn’t appear of this world, caught in the eye of a drone. The stranger looked up at the camera, as if he knew who was on the other side; and so the Batman came to meet him.

It was an auspicious night without a single cloud for cover. Ceres burned in the middle of the sky, blazing toward the Earth, driving the urgency of the encounter. This stranger was pulling Batman away from important business.

“I know you’re there,” said the man in the suit.

For once surprise wasn’t on the dark knight’s side. No matter. He was just as capable when challenging a foe head on. He threw his cape wide, casting off the stealth cloak, and walked the length of the rooftop with caution. He drew slow, measured breaths, balancing the rush of adrenaline with the beating of his heart. All his study, all his training, lead to this moment.

The stranger twirled his sword. It was constructed with unknown tech. Not practical in a duel, but undoubtedly served another, more deadly purpose.

“I thought about wiping this place,” he said. “You know I’ve always wondered, ‘is the Batman a reflection of Arkham, or Arkham a reflection of the Batman?’ It’s hard to know for sure.”

Delusional. Nonsensical. Unhinged. Another in a long line. Batman adopted a defensive stance. He’d yet to get a feel for his foe, and beckoned him ‘come’. Smart. Calculating. Deliberate. But Chronos had played this game before.

“I’ve always wondered how we’d fare, toe to toe, sans gadgets,” he said. “But right now I’m on the clock, meaning I play for keeps.”

He cut the air three times, producing three amorphous gashes in the universe. They took human forms, some being vaguely familiar. The villain’s weapon droned. “ACCESS SYSTEM: EARTH-1, PRE-CRISIS > BLACK LIGHTNING, KATANA, METAMORPHO.”

Batman reeled. Just who or what was he dealing with?

The first shape became a masked man with an afro wearing a black jacket stylized with bolts down the arms. He was an imposing figure with electricity cascading the length of his body. Even his eyes sparked with sinister intent.

Second was a masked woman in red and gold with a sigil akin to an old Japanese flag marking her costume. The shining blade in her grip was reminiscent of her namesake, and a refinement equal to his own.

Lastly there appeared a melange of textures; barely a man, made up of chalk and rock and dirt – other things the dark knight couldn’t identify at a glance. Somehow they came together as a single, semi-coherent being. Though underneath was a single mind, focused entirely on him.

Batman backed away, drawing them into a fighting circle. The longer he waited, the longer he had to conjure countermeasures. Four against one didn’t make for good odds, especially with that kind of power at play.

“Batman versus the Outsiders,” Chronos smirked. “An event for the ages! Take him down. Whatever it takes.”

NEXT ISSUE: It’s Batman versus Chronos, with the Dark Knight fighting for more than his life! This and more in part four of ‘Executive Order’!