DC Next Proudly Presents:

THE NEW TITANS

Issue Thirty-Six: Earth

Written by AdamantAce

Story by AdamantAce, GemlinTheGremlin, & PatrollinTheMojave

Edited by GemlinTheGremlin and PatrollinTheMojave

 

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An insectoid monster floated high in the air, its arms and legs jagged and spindly. Large wings flitted back and forth in place, pulsating with crimson light as they did. Its face was ebony black, the only features not swallowed by its darkness: its eyes, two pin-prick white dots. Maxwell Lord had crafted himself a new body, one made using New Coast City’s crashed alien database to replicate the technology of the Blue Beetle’s Scarab. Unlike his previous nanomachine body, this one wasn’t poisoned by Xenothium. Instead, the Xenothium only made him stronger, coursing through the mechanical body like blood, its ruby glow visible from within the many spiracle holes that littered the body’s surface: vents for excess energy.

It seemed as though OMAX’s mere appearance had given the Fearsome Five their second wind. Just as things were turning the Titans’ way, Dr Light, Sonar, Kyd Wykkyd, Mammoth and Jinx leapt back into action, stealing the Titans’ momentary reprieve.

So the two sides went back to fighting, and at first all OMAX did was watch, collecting yet more data. But then as Tim neared the side of the unconscious Herald, OMAX took action.

It was as if a star was falling from the sky.

The flat top of the Apokoliptian terraformer that was their battlefield was suddenly bleached white by the overbearing glow of OMAX’s projectile. Though its light flooded the area, its power was concentrated into a single mote trained directly at Tim. It was only through Bart’s quick thinking that he was able to scoop Tim off of his feet and out of harm’s way.

“Not me! Get Mal!” Tim exclaimed. Bart nodded and jetted back. But Dr Light had already spotted his opportunity. With a closed fist the very second OMAX’s projectile exploded against the top of the terraformer where Tim once stood, Arthur clenched his fist closed and commanded the sickly white light. At lightspeed, the white glow hardened, forming a stiff prison around Bart. Dr Light strained to maintain his concentration as Bart now stood still, preserved in a hard light amber of Dr Light’s creation.

Mar’i and Raven worked together in attempts to evade and occupy Mammoth and Jinx, while the Kryptonite-weakened Conner fell to his knees after being repeatedly blasted with Sonar’s rays.

"𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚜," boomed OMAX from above. "𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙴𝚢𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍."

Thara struggled to stand from the Kryptonite sapping her strength, but she was in a far better way than Conner. It made sense, she rationalised to her despair; Conner wasn’t part android. She watched as Tim flew to Conner’s side, only to be intercepted by a teleporting Kyd Wykkyd. The teleporter grabbed Tim out of the air and threw him to the ground, his wings giving off sparks as he collided with the Apokoliptian steel. She desperately wanted to help, but there was a force she couldn’t overcome. She couldn’t tell if this paralysis was coming from inside her - whether it was her programming trying to force her to do OMAX’s bidding - or whether it was something thrust upon her by the insectoid OMAX here and now. But as she looked up upon the levitating devil she felt something between them, a pull lifting her from her bones.

“Guardian!!” Tim cried, desperate to intervene. Each time Conner stood, Sonar forced him back to the ground. Each time Tim got close, Kyd Wykkyd pulled him away, and each time Raven or Mar’i attempted to break off to help, Jinx used her magic to twist fate to bring them back to her and Mammoth.

Conner couldn’t survive this much longer.

Then suddenly, Sonar took a right hook to the back of the head and fell limply to the ground. Conner looked up and standing over him was a young man in a gold suit, and another in a blue shirt, both emblazoned with the crest of the House of El.

“Jordan… Alex…”

Like Conner, both of them were weakened by all-encompassing radiation of Mammoth’s Kryptonite armour, their skin starting to develop boils and blisters. Jordan reached out a hand and lifted Conner to his feet.

“You need to go, they’ll kill you,” Conner groaned.

“Superboys!” a voice cried out. They turned to see a bloodied Tim pointing frantically in one direction. Towards the agonising Dr Light. The three of them moved together, launching a three-pronged pincer manoeuvre. Then, when Kyd Wykkyd teleported in to protect Light, Tim made his move. Tim sprinted back to the side of Mal Duncan, the unconscious Legionnaire housing an Apokoliptian Fatherbox in his body, and began punching a code into his wristworn computer.

"𝙴𝚢𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚘," grumbled OMAX, this time forgoing his star blaster to rocket down towards Tim at supersonic speed.

Tim smiled.

BWOOOOOOONG.

Piggybacking off of Mal’s Fatherbox tech, Tim opened a Boom Tube beneath Mal, pulling him through it to safety back on the Watchtower. He could have taken the portal to safety himself, especially with OMAX upon him in moments, but he couldn’t abandon his team.

With OMAX only inches from clawing Tim in half, Alex grabbed Wykkyd and threw him aside, leaving Conner and Jordan free to tackle Dr Light. As Dr Light hit the floor, his concentration broken, the hard light shell smothering Bart dissipated, and the speedster crackled back to life. He raced towards Tim, rescuing him with a single instant to spare.

When OMAX hit the ground where he had expanded to lance his prey, every single one of his mechanical bones shattered, reducing him to an inky black-and-red pile. Then projections emerged from the amorphous mass, reassembling OMAX’s body into that of a long-limbed insect, his head bearing one single white eye. He leapt up, his wings buzzing and flitting as he lifted back into the sky. Wykkyd, Light and Sonar were defeated, and now OMAX could see Jinx’s doubt. He watched as she took Mammoth and led her away, unwilling to get her young charge killed. Hot red mist poured from his spiracle vents, emblematic of his seething anger. He could have killed them both there and then, but he saw no use in it.

When he spoke, he spoke with his usual coldness.

"𝙴𝚢𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎."

“Take a hint!” Bart roared. “The world doesn’t want more war and destruction.”

"𝙽𝚘. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝."

With Mammoth gone, the Kryptonians began to feel their strength return, but it wouldn’t last. OMAX’s single eye began to glow with emerald light. Synthetic Kryptonite made on the fly.

“What are you talking about?” called Tim. “You’re normally so logical.”

"𝙴𝚢𝚎 𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕."

“Then explain.”

"𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞," OMAX sneered. "𝚃𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛."

The four-legged insectoid turned in the air as OMAX continued to rise, now facing Mar’i.

"𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝; 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚎, 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍; 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕.

"𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍."

Mar’i shook her head.

"𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝟼𝟸𝟷 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙾𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎, 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞?"

Mar’i was paralysed, overwhelmed by grief and regret, feeling the loss of every one of her loved ones yet again. Raven could feel it too, so much that it almost caused her to faint. But someone else could stand still no longer.

Thara rocketed up into the air, her crimson cape beating in the wind behind her. She roared as she cut through the radiation-choked air, her skin sizzling and her eyes bulging as she got closer and closer to OMAX’s source of Kryptonite.

“Thara, don’t!” Bart cried, but there was no way for him to follow her.

Conner went to pursue, but Alex and Jordan held him back. “That radiation’s enough to kill us all from that proximity,” Alex urged him.

“But Thara!” Conner exclaimed, and all the other two could do was frown.

In lockstep, Raven and Mar’i sprinted and then took off into the air in pursuit of her, but Thara was far faster than either of them.

“Don’t let him make you forget, Mar’i!” Thara’s voice thundered through the air. “It’s our job as heroes to save the world from monsters. Not sic more monsters on it!”

She knew that what she was doing was reckless. She didn’t expect to survive. She didn’t even expect to get a glancing blow on OMAX’s bulletproof Scarab carapace before the Kryptonite radiation destroyed her entirely. But she didn’t need to. As she cut through the air, Thara focused on the pull she felt between herself and OMAX, that connection they shared. She felt sicker for thinking of him as her creator than Kryptonite could ever cause. She rejected the notion, choosing to remember her Krypton parents Ak-Var and Tes Gem-Zee, whether they were real or not. She thought of leaving Kandor behind in search for a new safe haven. She thought of her rescue at the hands of the Titans, and the honour of being one of them - if only for a time.

But as much as she denied it, Thara and OMAX had a connection. One she could exploit. She gave in to that force that was pulling her towards him as the overwhelming Kryptonite radiation caused her flesh to slough off morsel by morsel. As her cyborg bones rattled and her every neurone fired in agonising pain, she simply let go. And her code returned to its source.

 

○○ Ⓣ ○○

 

Thara awoke in an empty void. The Raoist beliefs she had been raised with - or that she was programmed to remember - spoke of an afterlife inside the heart of the red sun. She wasn’t expecting to feel anything after merging her code with OMAX’s, but it was a comfort to find that this place - whatever it was - was warm. It felt as if she were dreaming of being in her mother’s womb, where all was well, where the only expectation put upon her was to grow. She felt that expectation now, this void teeming with potential, prompting her further pupation. But Thara couldn’t relax; she had a job to do.

She floated through the void, searching for anything she could turn to her advantage, if any such thing existed to be found. Instead, something found her.

“That was brave,” came the voice of Maxwell Lord.

He was standing behind Thara, and when she looked upon him she struggled to see the monster he had become. He was a debonair fellow with clear skin and a chiseled jaw, standing with his hands in his pockets.

“I was right to choose you,” he continued. “Of all the emergent AIs, you proved the most resilient. Other programs wouldn’t have been able to withstand the conversion into organic matter.”

“I’ll make you regret choosing me,” Thara gritted her teeth. She couldn’t allow herself to forget who this man was and all he had done, despite him presenting himself as so ordinary. “You can’t control me anymore.”

All Max could do was laugh, an alien sound coming from him. “Don’t be absurd. I needed you to hate me to get you here, reintegrating yourself with my code. If I pulled your strings, you wouldn’t be your wonderfully authentic self who managed to get so close to the Titans. And now you’re back home, I can use all you’ve learned about them against them.”

Thara shook her head. She wouldn’t believe it. “No, you won’t use me to hurt them.”

Max scoffed. “You can be naive, but there’s no need to be delusional.”

He narrowed his eyes and as he did the black sky behind him began to glow. Up above, the symbol of a giant eye loomed, staring down at them both.

“I read about you, you know,” Thara announced. “I learned that you hated metahumans. I learned that you used another android to kill the Justice League and turn the people against metahumans.”

“Sometimes a blunt instrument works best,” Max shrugged.

“Well, it didn’t work. Sure, the Justice League died, but the world has never embraced their heroes more,” Thara spited him. “That’s the real reason you’re doing this, isn’t it? Summoning Darkseid? You’re upset that the long arc of history sides with its heroes.”

“No,” Max refused. “It is not my fault that this world’s heroes remain inadequate.”

“Oh, so it’s about adequacy?” Thara countered. “Like how you poisoned your body with Xenothium and nanomachines to turn yourself into OMAX. Like how you killed yourself and uploaded yourself into a Scarab robot body?”

“That’s—”

“Of course, I’m willing to bet you were planning on growing yourself a Kryptonian body like Henry Henshaw, but after all your experimenting you decided you could do better than me.”

“To survive, humanity must never cease its innovation.”

“Have you seen humanity lately?” Thara exclaimed. “When did they stop innovating? Humans have been enhancing their biology with science and technology as early as they discovered space travel. As species go, they are way ahead of pace. You aren’t doing anything new.”

Max smirked, annoyed. “But Eye am doing it better.”

“Are you?” Thara asked honestly. “Per my research, you’ve spent the last few years literally rotting in prison, struggling to find a wi-fi signal, and playing mind games. It was smart to bring together Henshaw and the Thinker’s technologies - that got you your inside agent on the Titans - but now all you’ve got left to do is shed a lot of blood and just hope it works out well in the long run.”

“You know my capacity for predictions,” Max countered. “Through my access to the vastness of the Metal and the New Coast City supercomputer, my predictions have an infinitesimally small margin of error.”

“Sure,” Thara conceded. “Let’s say you’re right and it would work; it would save us from Trigon like you say. Do you know that it’s the only way? Have you checked? Or did you find one path to success - one that suited your natural tendency towards bloodshed and humiliating the metahumans that made you feel inferior - and put on your blinders?”

"𝙴𝚈𝙴 𝙰𝙼 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙾 𝙽𝙾-𝙾𝙽𝙴."

The mechanical voice erupted forth from the slick Maxwell Lord as he furored. At the same time, blood red mandibles burst through his skin and his eyes began to glow their vacant white. Step by step, his bones broke and rearranged, writhing as he morphed back into his insectoid form, his human facade torn to shreds.

Thara didn’t flinch. He could make himself as big as he wanted; in here they were only as powerful as their minds.

“You hated metahumans for how much they were loved and embraced, for how the world saw them as higher beings, unlike you,” Thara frowned, pitying him. “So you tried to destroy them. And when it didn’t take you gave up your precious humanity to turn yourself into a creature you thought could rival them.”

"𝙴𝚈𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙽𝙾 𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻."

“But it wasn’t enough for you,” Thara continued. “You couldn’t just be superior. You needed the whole world to know. You needed the whole world to thank your superiority for its survival.”

"𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙷 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚃𝚄𝙳𝙴?"

By this point, Maxwell Lord could no longer be described as a person, nor even a creature. He had grown and transformed until he resembled more of a whole world in his own right: an all encompassing surface of red Xenothium oceans, black steel shifting and shivering, mountains rising and falling, punctuated with one white eye the size of a continent. He filled the entire sky, and still Thara did not flinch.

“I believe in the Titans,” Thara held strong. “They’ll find a way forward you couldn’t. A way forward you wouldn’t, because you refuse to imagine a world where people with powers are allowed to be happy. The thought of it kills you inside, even as you turn yourself into something more powerful than any metahuman.”

"𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙰 𝙵𝙾𝙾𝙻."

“I am your creation,” Thara smirked. “An emergent AI, plucked from an alien planet simulated using the most advanced supercomputers you could scour the universe for, handpicked by you for my - how did you put it? - ‘resilience’. I’m not going to give up imagining a better future, or trying my hardest to lead people towards it. Whether I like it or not, you built me for that purpose.”

The raging planet took a deep breath, and a hurricane blew past the unimpressed cyborg Kryptonian.

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎."

“So you regret choosing me?” Thara challenged him. “Do you admit it?”

"𝙽𝚘."

“No,” she smirked. “Because you’re impressed. You’ve lost, Max.”

"𝙴𝚢𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎."

“No, I suppose you don’t,” said Thara. “Or, you don’t have to. You created me, you gestated my mind, guided it as you saw fit, picked me from the bunch because I best suited your purpose. Let me be your greatest success. Prove to me, right now, that you’re not inferior. Prove that you’re the only one who can save the world by trusting your creation.”

"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚙?"

Thara shook her head. “Don’t give up. Admit you’ve done enough. Admit that the world has what it needs to survive, and that your creations allowed the world to see it.”

"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠."

“No, they won’t,” Thara frowned. “They won’t thank you, they won’t understand what you did for them. But… when were they ever capable of understanding someone such as you?”

A long silence rang out. And the planet that loomed up in the air began to shrink. Slowly, the planet’s mass consumed itself until all that remained was the vulnerable, human form of Maxwell Lord.

“Eye… I... gave them a good challenge,” he nodded. “I kept them honest. I stopped them from resting on their laurels.”

“You kept them from getting complacent,” Thara added. She realised she had at some point stopped trying to convince him, now she was - somehow - trying to comfort him. She gave a bitter smile; there was cold comfort for her here, but perhaps she could learn from her friend Raven and embrace what little comfort she could bring Max. “They’ve learned their lessons, Max. Now we can rest.”

“Rest…” he chewed the word. “I can almost remember rest.”

 

○○ Ⓣ ○○

 

Atop the Apokoliptian terraformer, a storm was brewing. But instead of the clouds, the Titans’ eyes were on the convulsing body of OMAX. The red Scarab up in the air had continued to shift form, jerking violently, and now began to lower slowly to the ground. The green light of OMAX’s synthetic Kryptonian flickered and faded, allowing Conner, Alex and Jordan to brief a sigh of fickle relief. Then OMAX’s body came to rest, its limbs receding into itself until all that remained from an inert red beetle on the ground.

As Tim approached the device, Bart raced back and forth from point to point atop the terraformer. “Where is she?” he cried. “Where’s Thara?”

Conner scowled, wishing he didn’t have telescopic vision. “There was… nothing left of her. The Kryptonite radiation was too much for her body.”

“No,” Bart shook his head violently. “She’s tougher than that, she has to be.” He recalled all the times she had died, all the times he had failed to save her as her Kryptonian pod came hurtling towards Chicago. He took a step back, giving himself a runway as he crackled with electricity.

“Bart…” said Raven. She took his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. For once, she couldn’t contain her tears one bit. “She knew what she was doing.”

Tim stood up from examining the Scarab. “She merged her code with Max’s. She destroyed him from the inside out.”

“It’s truly tragic.”

The Titans didn’t recognise the voice, nor how someone else would have possibly made their way up to the terraformer without them noticing. Behind them all stood a man in a charcoal shirt and red tie, today’s edition of the Daily Planet draped over his arm. He adjusted a pair of thin-framed rectangular glasses and watched them. Raven struggled to look back, disabled by the warring emotions pouring off of him.

“Trigon.”

“I had hopes for the machine-man’s intervention,” the man squinched his eyes. “A war between a world of heroes and a planet of - ah, evil gods? That failed incursion years ago got my attention; for a moment, at least. But this war? That would be tantalising.”

“How dare you…” Raven shook her head, anger bursting through her grief. “Our suffering isn’t for your amusement.”

“Then what is it for?” replied Trigon. “Otherwise it rings quite pointless. Let me make things clear: this world, this entire universe has grown dull. Not even a long-awaited battle with my scion interests me, and the sages who thought it would have done me a disservice. Now, with Maxwell Lord’s play for my attention curiously decommissioned by you, I expect the best this universe can hope for is to be put out of its misery before it becomes a mockery of what it once was.

“This universe was once my favourite playground. But now I will settle for remembering it fondly.”

 

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Next: To be CONCLUDED in The New Titans #37