[identity profile] jla-villains.livejournal.com
Degaton's command ship -- a warship appropriated from the Warlords of Okaara -- hovers, like the rest of Vanishing Point, in a temporal "pocket." To do so otherwise would risk sliding into the future ... into the last remaining moments of the universe.

Consequently, the battle outside of his window is happening entirely at one precise instant ... a moment literally frozen in time. Degaton throws back his head. Sometimes temporal mechanics leave even his head hurting.

The soldiers and engineers around him are impassive, but the man himself is pensive, concerned at the raging war.

"How did Hunter raise an army so quickly?" he muses, but no one dares answer, nor does he expect them to. "No matter. Our forces are inside Vanishing Point, and when it is mine, we can execute the last chronal alterations ... stabilize the altered timelines into one coherent series of events. Rewrite history in my image."

HAIL DEGATON! the soldiers shout on cue. And at that, Degaton smiles.

"Yes," he says. "Hail Degaton. ... And if Hunter and his allies win."

He shrugs.

"There's always the backup plan."

There is no cheering at that. Indeed, the soldiers seem chilled to the bone.
[identity profile] jla-forgotten.livejournal.com
I'm called Rip Hunter. That's not my name. No one knows my true name, and I won't even record it here. Too much is at stake, and if it means I die forgotten, then so be it.

When Degaton's cat's paw, the Witch Queen, rose, Earth's heroes were destroyed. Those that survived pulled together to form The Justice Batallion, and now most of them have fallen, also.

The Witch Queen, like myself, had an identity shrouded in mystery -- untraceable by my best methods. Now, I know her name, but it may be too late.

I put my own pieces in place. The Forgotten Heroes -- champions already tossed between worlds and times. And so the shadow war began ... neither side knowing who the other's players were. But Degaton's forces grew too quickly, and his pawns caused chaos in timeline after timeline. Heroes fell. And then ... this.


Rip Hunter stops the log, and walks to Vanishing Point's observation deck. Outside, an armada thousands of starships strong stands poised to shield the chronal station. The Linear Men are dead, and his Forgotten Heroes are scattered across time. He's only had time to retrieve two of his agents.

"This is it," he says over the communicators. "If we fall here, I just want you to know it's been an honor to fight by your side."
[identity profile] jla-goldenage.livejournal.com
Dr. Richard Occult takes politely of the feast Prince Khufu, the first incarnation of Hawkman, has provided to the weary travelers, but his attention remains fixed on his colleauges.

Hector Hall, the current (by his reckoning) incarnation of Fate eats not at all, refusing to remove his helmet. The chaos magicks that have infested his aura are growing stronger, making him edgy. So too is Gemma Marsters, after Arion's revelation that she may be destined to become the Witch Queen.

They wait for Nabu, whom Khufu has sent for. The delay in his arrival concerns Occult. Something is wrong.

The other shoe drops an hour into the meal, when an Egyptian messenger comes, sprinting into Khufu's tent.

"Your .. your highness ... It is Nabu. He has arrived, but .. he ... he ..."

The messenger stops, and catches his breath.

"Your highness, he is plagued by demons."
[identity profile] jla-forgotten.livejournal.com
With Fate's agreeing to escape the Witch Queen, rather than to fight, the heroes dive through the portal, following the object of their quest ... an amulet that could balance the forces of chaos within the sorceror.

One moment, they're at the bottom of the ocean, protected from the depths by only magic. Suddenly, they find themselves in a verdant field under a bright, blue sky and shining sun. In the distance looms a city ... familiar, yet different. The air is fresh and clean, cool against the heroes' skins.

"Welcome, says a caped man with long, brown hair. "Welcome to Atlantis. Please forgive the manner in which I brought you here."

The man smiles, and though he looks young, there's also something impossibly old about him. "My name is Arion."

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