jla_watchtower | Smog and Brimstone

Current Location: los angeles

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Smog and Brimstone

At the corner of Hollywood and Vine, the ground begins to tremble on an early summer evening - the hardy native Californians ignore the tremor at first, accustomed to such things living this close to the San Andreas fault. The hissing gasses and wave of heat might be ignored as well - after all, this is where movies are made - but the follow-up is all too real.

Demons begin to pour forth from the fissure that quickly forms - their twisted, red-black bodies bending unnaturally as their charred wings expand, feeling the freedom of the air for the first time in age untold.

Hell on Earth begins here.

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Even Red Tornado is forced to shield his optic sensors as the Spectre begins to be torn asunder. He turns away, and spies a building affected by the fight about to topple over.

Without a word, he flies towards the building and spins around it, trying to keep the brickwork together by centrifugal force alone. It's hard work, but when you're the Red Tornado you save lives no matter how much effort you have to put into it.

A glowing ankh materializes above the city - the reassuring golden visage of Dr. Fate is there, working magics to contain and constrain the demonic hordes, pulling them back towards the fissures in the ground.

"Nabu, lend me the strength to undo this terror.."

"This is Zauriel, Fate - we need a new host for Spectre so Asmodel can't re-merge with him once separated. Can you or someone find a suitable host in the supernatural realm? We will only get one shot at this!"

He keeps prying open the wound and starts to see signs of Asmodelbeing forced apart within the Spectre.

"When the right time comes, I will need to go in and remove Asmodel from Spectre, and when I do, I will need that new soul to anchor the Spectre to. Think you or someone else can do it Fate?"

"Unfortunately, that's not a decision we can make off the cuff - selecting a host for the Spectre is tricky at the best of times. I'll see what I can do, though."

Clearly, Hector Hall's feeling a little overwhelmed.

"I will be of assistance, guardian of Order."

As is his wont, the Phantom Stranger has arrived, unbidden.

"Consign the Spectre's essence to my care, Zauriel, and I will guide it to the next destined host."

"Lead the way Stranger. Dr. Fate? Send the host when you find one ASAP! We will be within the Spectre - battling Asmodel for control!"

He looks at the Phantom Stranger and says, "Shall we?" with a smile.

The Stranger stands, impassive.

"You strike the blow from within, angel. I will seize the Spectre's essence once it is free, and carry it to find a suitable host. That is my task. The battle itself is yours."

"Spoken well, friend. Can you keep the wound open so as to ensure I don't become merged with Asmodel and Spectre?"

"That's a little more in my line, if you don't mind. Overt magical force."

Dr. Fate floats down, conjuring mystical ribbons of energy that will hold the wound open.

"Thank you. May the Presence guide us all!"

Zauriel focuses and blinks out of sight, then appears inside the Spectre, face to face with Asmodel, and Spectre watching.

"Spectre! It is Zauriel - newly ascended to archangel. You have been betrayed by this fallen angel Asmodel!"

Asmodel is startled, "NO! Spectre! Do not listen to this angel who once turned down heaven for a mere mortal!" He aims his staff of fire at Zauriel and fires...

Zauriel is engulfed by the flames. Even an archangel can be hurt. "ARGH!" He falls to his knees, "No! Listen wrestless spirit! Asmodel has... ugnh!... clouded your ... mind!"

The Spectre's forms shifts and bends, coalescing and disintegrating, as the battle rages within.

Somehow, through the chaos, the spirit of vengeance manages to find enough focus to listen.

"I have.. been deceived."

Asmodel fires at Zauriel again, "No Spectre! The deception is from this one who deserted heaven for a human female! HE is the traitor!" He fires another barrage of fire from his staff at Zauriel...

Zauriel manages to dodge and lands on his feet, "No Asmodel! It is YOU who are the deceiver! You tried to succeed where Lucifer/Satan failed in his attempt of overthrowing heaven. You tried to usurp the Presence Himself! That was why you were banished from heaven! Now you have used His instrument of judgment to try and fulfill a vendetta you have against me and others who have helped me in the past! You even overthrew the order of hell to feed your ego! KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The seraphic cry launched at full power from the archangel is shattering to the point where it ripples breaches the walls of realities/realms...

Asmodel goes down hard, "ARGH!"

His body ripples from the strain, but he still manages to send off a counter attack, a blaze of light from his eyes, the divine light he was able to keep despite falling as an angel. It blinds even the purest of souls, and he fires at Zauriel, "Be BLIND Zauriel!"

FWASH!

The Spectre has had time - time free of Asmodel's lies to clear his perceptions. And he does not like what he sees. Having a host has restored his mind, and his wherewithal to act.

"ASMODEL!"

The spirit of vengeance grows to enormous size, towering over the warring angels.

"You were consigned to hell for your treachery, and shall be again!"

The Spectre's crushing hand slams down.

Zauriel is startled by the blow, "Good to see you restored Spectre, we're working on a host for you, one that will be more stable. An old friend is waiting for you... Phantom Stranger?"

He looks down and sees Asmodel's foot sticking out of Spectre's grip.

"Goodbye Asmodel... I hope not to see you again."

When Asmodel awakens, he is back in his cell in hell. "What?! How did I get... the Spectre! And Zauriel! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

All his efforts to control things, they've been reset. His dark kingdom set back to the way it was before he was merged with the Spectre. His eyes glow red with the knowledge of that, sent to him by the guards - just to spite him. They laugh and walk away. "I'll get you yet Zauriel!"

Zauriel looks up and says, "So mighty Spectre, what do you say?"

The green-hooded visage of the Spectre peers down at the comparatively tiny angel, the pupils of his eyes resembling tiny, ivory-white skulls as the spirit seethes with barely contained rage.

"You have my thanks for your intervention, Zauriel. I will go with the Stranger now, before my power can be taken advantage of again."

Zauriel blinks and he is on the streets of L.A. Smoke and fire fill the streets from the demons and minions' rampage that the heroes have been trying to stop. He sees Dr. fate and Phantom Stranger. "Where is the Spectre? Is he joined with a new host?" he asks them.

"He will be soon enough. A man will be murdered this night - one whose soul will provide the anchor that the Spectre requires. Our work here is completed."

The Stranger looks up, towards the looming, translucent figure of the Spectre - and then both are gone.

All that Zauriel hears after they leave is the voice of the Spectre, "This act speaks well for you in the halls of heaven Zauriel..." Then silence.

Zauriel stands there surprised. "To the Presence be the glory..."

He ascends into the air and flies away, ready for his next adventure.

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Smog and Brimstone

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