Washington DC
“Take that damn thing off when you talk to me!” snapped Wonder Woman as she glared at her husband who sat on his throne in the White House.
Superman pulled the helmet of Nabu of his head and placed it beside him “I said, I’m fine!”
“Why do insist on wearing that…thing?”
“It stops the inane chatter” said Superman “It blocks out the squeals I constantly hear from a planet full of clumsy, overweight, ungrateful animals!”
The Amazonian princess folded her arms as she walked across the faded rug made from the skin of Gorilla Grodd towards him “You should do a lap around the moon instead” Superman pulled the helmet slightly closer to him as his wife walked up to him. She stopped, her Red Lantern ring pulsing as her temper rose.
“You don’t talk to me anymore!” she yelled “You sit with that damn helmet on, staring into space!”
“I am trying to rule a planet Diana!”
“What, by telepathy? Last time I checked you weren’t J’onn”
“Don’t you have Hawkmen to train?” snapped Superman as he stood up, his Green Lantern ring sparking in response. Wonder Woman clenched her fists as she glared at her husband.
“Mumma, look!”
The pair turned to see their son hover into the room. Their anger towards each other faded as they watched their precious little two year old escorted by his nanny, the robotic and reprogrammed Metal Man, Gold.
“Jonathan! You clever boy!” Wonder Woman flew to her son and spun around in the air with him. Superman smiled and slowly raised the helmet towards his head.
**
San Francisco
“So you’re…”
“Sshh” said the man placing a finger to his lips “They’re watching, but yes I am the Deranger”
The young man smiled and extended his hand “I am so pleased to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you”
“But I’ve heard very little about you, what was your name again?”
“Wildfire! Or Jerod, Jerod Lynns”
“You’re related to Garfield Lynns”
Jerod smiled “Yeah. He fought against Batman back in the day, a real hero he was”
“Your grandfather, was a hero?”
“Well, yeah” Jerod looked at the Deranger with a quizzical expression. Deranger burst into laughter “What’s so funny?”
“Your grandfather was a pyromaniac, a lunatic and a murdering lowlife scum” said the Deranger as he slowly shifted into the form of a large, well built, green man.
“M-m-m-Martian m…”
A big green hand clamped over his mouth and slammed Jerod Lynns into the brick wall “Manhunter!” snarled J’onn J’onzz as his fist tightened over Jerod’s face, the young man turning a nasty shade of purple as he kicked and convulsed for air. J’onn concentrated on him, looking intently into his eyes. As Jerod started to go limp, he roughly tossed him to the floor.
“You know nothing I don’t already know!” he growled “You also don’t know what the Deranger looks like, meaning this composite shape based on reports of his likeness is once again wrong! But you were contacted by them, making you slightly useful!”
A man morphed out of the wall, a SHADE agent. He saluted his superior and stood over the gasping Jerod.
“You, will be Jerod Lynns from now on in” said Martian Manhunter as he touched the SHADE agent on the forehead and telepathically fed him the relevant information on Jerod Lynns.
“Yes sir!” The SHADE agents face contorted and mimicked Jerod’s face until it was like looking in a mirror. He turned to J’onn who nodded approval.
“And him sir?”
Martian Manhunter looked down on the original Jerod Lynns, his eyes flared red and a searing blast of Martian Vision reduced him to nothing more than a fine burnt powder.
“And who?” said J’onn, a wry evil smile on his lips “Carry on Jerod; they will possibly contact you soon. Keep me posted” With that Martian Manhunter faded away.
**
Gotham City
Zara Lawton threw open the roller door of the rusted storage locker. She had promised her mother she wouldn’t come here until she’d passed away, and it had been a week since she died.
Dust billowed into the air as she stepped inside. Fifty years of dust, dead moths and rat faeces littered the place. The florescent light flickered on. Zara covered her mouth and walked towards the large box in the centre of the room marked “Belle Reve Penitentiary” in faded black writing. Zara pulled a crowbar out of her jacket.
“Let’s see if mom’s drunken rants were right or wrong” muttered Zara as she jammed it into the side of the crate and prised it open. The wood cracked and the front fell off sending another dust cloud into the air. Zara coughed and waved it away from her face. Her coughing gave way to a look of shock and amazement.
“Holy crap!” shrieked Zara as she looked at the uniform of Deadshot, pristinely preserved in a plexi-glass tube.
**
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