JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Everyone else at the scene of the crime is out cold, bones shattered in several places. Some will never walk again.

One will never breathe again - the head wound bleeding profusely from Thorne's bullet.

Thorne himself... his eyes are still open. He's still moving.

His head turns, focusing on the two women in sight.

Alcana. Shoulda killed that bitch months ago.

That's the only rage he can muster. Sweating profusely and breathing labored, all he can feel is fear. Sheer terror that this is the end.

It can't END like this...