What has gone before: The heroes of Earth are pitted in a desperate struggle against the Psycho Pirate, who has used the power of the Spear of Destiny to manipulate reality and recreate the last days of Earth-2.  In doing so, the Psycho Pirate unwittingly brought into being the shadow creatures who served the Anti-Monitor during the original great Crisis, and the shadow creatures now are inflicting a reign of terror and death on the already ill-treated world …

MOSCOW, RUSSIA

A squadron of Rocket Reds flew headlong into a cloud of the shadow creatures.  The weapon systems built into the Russian soldiers’ armor fired bursts of energy that initially seemed to hurt the spectral fiends.  Blazing beams tore through the shadows, leaving gaping wounds in their semi-substantial bodies.  Yet the shadow creatures would not fall when hit.  They recoiled, but only long enough for their midnight-black bodies to bleed together what had been rent asunder.  Then they resumed their merciless attack.  In the end, the best the Rocket Reds could do was to keep the shadow creatures at bay. 

It was only a matter of time before the human failings of the operators outpaced the technological wizardry of the armor.  Within Rocket Red Eight, a Russian soldier named Ilya squeezed his eyes shut against the stinging sweat pouring off his brow.  He fired his weapon systems blind, and missed the shadow creature lunging for his head.  Had Ilya’s eyes been open, the ebon claws smashing through his faceplate would have been the last things he ever saw.

The shadow creature swung the Rocket Red Eight armor viciously into Rocket Red Eleven and Rocket Red Nineteen, destroying their flight jet backpacks and sending all three Rocket Reds hurtling toward the ground as dead weight.  Other shadows began to make headway against the individual Rocket Reds in the squadron as well.  Beneath the airborne skirmish, Russian infantry and armored division soldiers watched the flickering-red skies fearfully, knowing that very soon the shadow creatures would run out of Rocket Reds to destroy and seek out new targets.

THE FORESTS SURROUNDING CADMUS RESEARCH FACILITIES

Guardian rolled down the mound of debris that had once been a Cadmus terrarium for studying epidemiology.  Superboy had managed to remove three of the more sensitive laboratories from the facility and fly them a safe distance away from the forest fire, and was lifting off with the fourth when the shadow creatures attacked.  Superboy had had no choice but to drop the steel tow-cables and defend himself.  Guardian had been riding the on the roof of the terrarium, the fourth lab, when Superboy had dropped it.  He survived the drop, and pulled himself out of the jagged remains, only to quickly roll into evasive maneuvers as he was set upon by more of the shadow creatures.

Guardian came up on his feet and brought his golden shield up against his chest, barely in time to deflect a black wraith intent on removing his heart.  Another shadow followed close behind, and Guardian slashed into its head with the edge of his shield while diving away from its path of attack.  Overhead, he could hear Superboy struggling against the hellish creatures.

“Let’s see if you suckers make good rattails!” the Kid screamed, although an ill-concealed current of pain and fear in his words undercut his usual bravado.  Nevertheless he fought valiantly, careening down and grasping the tapered tail of a shadow creature in both hands.  Superboy spun in midair and flicked the head of the creature toward another of its eldritch kind, cracking the creature like a whip.  The shadow’s head sank into the midsection of the target beast, and the two shades clawed each other to oblivion in trying to free themselves.

With a grin, Superboy glanced down at Guardian.  From his vantage point he could see that Cadmus’ number one security enforcer was in bad shape, nearly out of breath and deathly pale, down on one knee as shadow creatures circled around.  Superboy’s momentary satisfaction was replaced with nauseating guilt.  The environment within the giant terrarium had been full of a tropical-disease stew, and he had smashed it open with Guardian riding it.  Now Guardian was under attack inside and out.  Superboy aimed himself like a missile at the shadow creatures closing in on Guardian, crashing fists first into one just as Guardian lost consciousness.

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA

Damn.  That was a waste of good bullets, Johnny Chancellor thought sardonically.  He had expended a full clip of ammunition, emptying shot after shot into the fleeting black shapes to absolutely no effect.  He had hoped that his not-quite-legal rounds would prove more effective than the standard bullets used by the New Orleans P.D., but the shadow creatures had shrugged off domestic and Bialya-military issue slugs equally.  Nothing seemed to stop the malevolent black spirits from terrorizing anyone unlucky enough to fall into their sights.

Nearby, on the campus of the University of New Orleans, a large mob consisting mostly of students ran in all directions over the quad.  Shadow creatures swooped down like ebony harpies, clutching at fleeing heads, but more often than not passed harmlessly through the throngs of people.

Standing in a third-floor window overlooking the quad, Ed Baird hoped his strategy would save some lives.  The quad had been sparsely dotted with students when the shadow creatures first appeared; Ed had cast an illusion of a considerably larger crowd in order to camouflage those who had nowhere else to hide.  The shadow creatures seemed to be fooled, continually attacking insubstantial visions rather than flesh and blood.  Ed was simply unsure how long his illusion and his luck could hold out.  “What the hell is going on?” he wondered aloud, concentrating on making the false bodies running pell-mell below seem real.

NEW YORK CITY

Jade and Obsidian reached the rooftop of the building where Jade shared an apartment with Kyle Rayner.  They had seen the shadow creatures through the window and come to unspoken agreement that they should run headlong into the danger rather than remain inside in relative safety.  It was the same compulsion that had driven them to become super-heroes and shaped their lives to this day.

The skies pulsed with a supernatural red glow, mottled by black, ghostly figures darting in every direction.  Jade and Obsidian exchanged a quick glance and began a counterattack from the rooftop.  Bolts of viridian energy flew from Jade’s hands, scoring direct hits on three shadow creatures flying past.  Obsidian became flattened and drew on the naturally occurring shadows of the rooftop to increase his size.  He reached out with both arms and grappled a pair of shadow creatures, pinning them against his own blackness.

The flock of shadow creatures diverted their attention to the brother and sister on the rooftop.  Scores of the jet black spirits descended on the building, and Jade and Obsidian found themselves on the defensive, reeling.

“Todd!” Jade cried out, blasting green energy wildly in all directions.  “They’re everywhere!”

“Hang in there, Jenny!” Obsidian replied at the top of his lungs, twisting madly to grab as many of the creatures as he could in his shadow-form.  “We haven’t lived our whole lives to see them end here like this!”

On the other side of the city, Connor Hawke notched and fired arrows as quickly as he could.  He had recently returned from the Ashram monastery to the states via New York, only to find the city overrun by the shadow creatures.  After quickly realizing that the creatures were impervious to harm from simple arrowheads, Connor began to improvise.  He cut loose power lines overhead and exploded transformers in order to attack the shadow creatures with electricity.  The tactic was only marginally more successful than arrows alone.

Suddenly a small bird, colored entirely a Day-Glo green, flitted around Connor.  A voice belonging to a human boy emerged from its tiny beak.  “Check it out!  The ultimate team!  Green Arrow and … Green Sparrow!”  The bird flew past Connor and high into the air, just above a shadow creature, then instantly transformed into a bright green hippopotamus, crushing the shadow creature to the street beneath its massive feet.

Connor gaped openly, and Changeling said, “What?  Can’t a beast boy join in on this brawl?”

GOTHAM CITY

Robin and Zatanna kept their backs against each other as the shadow creatures surrounded them.  The weighted ends of a bola swung in loops through the air around Robin’s fist, while Zatanna’s fingers drummed the air expectantly.  The shadow creatures circled menacingly, a dozen or more, moving fast enough to make counting them impossible.  Without warning several broke off from the black perimeter around the heroes; two streaked toward Robin, two more at Zatanna.

“!thgil htiw edolpxe serutaerc wodahS” Zatanna cried, thrusting her hands at the creatures diving at her.  Brilliant white cracks appeared along the inky surfaces of the pair of shadow creatures, growing longer and wider and rapidly consuming the black bodies entirely in blinding flashes.

Robin feinted to the left and then rolled flat on the ground to the right, snapping his bola line up at the last possible moment.  The cable’s weights wrapped around both shadow creatures, entangling them in the bola and each other’s ebony limbs.  The shadow creatures hissed angrily, but quickly began to extricate themselves from the restraints.  Robin took a moment to cast a glance back at his lovely companion.

Zatanna lay face down in the street.  The front half of her head was literally embedded in broken asphalt, as a shadow creature floated above her, arms pushing down and black talons knotted into Zatanna’s long dark hair.  Zatanna’s body was splayed awkwardly against the ground, motionless.

With a reflexive quickness belying his mental shock, Robin drew a small capsule from his utility belt and threw it hard at the ground near Zatanna’s head.  The impact broke the capsule open and an intense magnesium flare erupted.  The light drove the shadow creature away from the pretty young magician, and Robin quickly crossed to her side.

“Zatanna?  ZATANNA?!!?” Robin shouted, shaking her shoulder roughly.  Zatanna made no response.

AROUND THE EARTH…

The slums of Dublin had seen better days, still seeming to shudder from a rain of flaming hail that had mysteriously assaulted it.  Now a new assault was led by ghosts of solid ichor, racing from building to pockmarked building in a frenzied bloodlust.  The mystical light of the Jack O’Lantern cleaved through a shadow creature in midair, just before it could dart into the bedroom window of an unsuspecting Dubliner’s flat.  Two more of the creature’s inky kin rose up to take the fallen shadow’s place and turned their attention on the Irish hero.  Liam McHugh punched at the nearer one as he tried to reposition his lantern for a better shot, and found only a dark, deep pain when his fist passed through the shadow creature.  The shadow creatures’ faces scarcely had identifiable features, but they seemed to smile cruelly as they sank black talons into Jack O’Lantern’s body …

Max Mercury and Impulse ran along the razor’s edge of the Speed Force in an attempt to contain a swarm of shadow creatures in a man- and boy-made cyclone.  The rushing air current sucked some of the shadow creatures in and held them fast, but far more still darted freely through the streets of Manchester.  “MaxIthinkthere’stoomanyofthem!” Impulse shouted at 500 words per minute.  “I’vegotabetteridea!”  With that Impulse began to run at top speed in an erratic pattern, zigzagging up and down the sides of buildings, crisscrossing rooftops and sprinting back and forth along the street, always coming within a fraction of an inch of a shadow creature before changing course.  Soon five creatures were pursuing Impulse and he broke for a cluster of the black demons huddled in a major intersection.  Impulse peeled away at the last moment and the shadow creatures on his trail plowed into their brethren in a tangled confusion of darkness …

Somewhere high above Nova Scotia, G’nort of G’newt aimed his trusty power ring and summoned up a humongous green flashlight, in hopes of shining it on the shadow creatures and dispelling them.  Unfortunately the flashlight was missing a few D-cells and it had no effect as G’nort desperately flicked the oversized green switch back and forth.  The shadow creatures closed in on G’nort, who finally resorted to hitting them over their shadowy heads with the giant flashlight …

The Swamp Thing was only able to construct a small, brittle and desiccated body to house his essence as he emerged in what was once the lush jungle of the Congo.  All the plantlife in the region had withered under a brutal and unnatural drought.  The Green itself had screamed in agony as it rapidly dehydrated, sturdy boles shrinking at mind-boggling speed to spindly husks, leafy foliage reducing to little more than crackling dust.  The Swamp Thing went where he was needed, to search out the cause of the desecration, and found himself literally a stick figure in a dried-out nightmare landscape.  His attention, however, was immediately diverted to the shadow creatures flying swiftly through the air, attacking Bantu tribesmen who tried in vain to defend themselves with spears and shields.  The god of the swamp was charged with responsibility by the Parliament of Trees to defend the Green, but often chose to take upon himself a responsibility to defend humankind.  The evil intents of the shadow creatures toward the Bantu were obvious.  The Swamp Thing coaxed one of his vegetative arms to grow long enough to strike at the nearest shadow creature, which appeared unfazed by the blow as it dove down at the newcomer to the fray …

THE SPHINX, EGYPT

The shadow creatures swarming over the Saharan sands were legion, attacking like a monstrous force of nature.  The champions of humanity were hopelessly outnumbered.  They were exhausted from combat with the powerful villains the Psycho Pirate had resurrected from beyond reality.  They were drained of stamina by the unearthly heat that baked the desert around the Sphinx.  They had been wounded by the direct attacks of unimaginable energy the Psycho Pirate channeled through the Spear of Destiny.  Now, assailed by the ephemeral army of the Anti-Monitor, it appeared they had failed to save the world from the Psycho Pirate’s insanity.

Ice Maiden had been one of the hardest hit by the scorching temperature of the battlefield.  She lay on her side, too weak to even raise an arm to ward off the shadow creature as it sank its claws into her belly and pulled.  Ice Maiden’s pale blue skin was splattered in crimson as the shadow creature quickly eviscerated her, a moment before Mary Marvel collided with the black wraith at full speed.  Several more shadow creatures descended on Mary Marvel, pile-driving her into the ground while Ice Maiden continued to bleed onto the sand.

Blue Beetle and Booster Gold stood with their backs braced against one another, legs weak with fatigue.  Booster’s armor gauntlets fired energy bursts at a rate that threatened to overload the suit’s systems, while Beetle brandished a bug-shaped concussion pistol of his own devising.  Shadow creatures dove at them in waves from every side.

“Still glad … we got involved … in this fight … Booster?” Blue Beetle asked in staggered grunts between shots fired at the spectral attackers.

“Always knew we’d go down in a blaze of glory, buddy,” Booster replied with a nonchalance that belied his own difficulty keeping up with the myriad shadows.

“Me too … but I always … thought it’d be … a little more directly … your fault … aaaGGGHHKKKK!!!”  Beetle was permanently silenced by a shadow creature, which narrowly avoided the concussion pistol’s discharge.

“TED!!!” Booster cried as his friend slumped down to the desert floor.  The momentary distraction allowed another shadow creature to wrap its ebon limbs around Booster’s neck from behind.  Booster struggled, shooting wildly behind himself, but the shadow creature held on until his struggles ceased.

Steel’s boot jets carried him high into the air, and at what he gauged to be a sufficient altitude he switched to hover mode.  He threw his hammer straight down, and the inertia-multiplying field increased the striking force of the weapon exponentially as it approached the earth below.  The hammer plowed through a group of four shadow creatures encroaching menacingly upon Argent, Princess Fern and Guy Gardner, tearing the shades apart.  Unarmed, Steel was unable to mount a counterattack against two more shadow creatures that had followed him to the apex of his flight.  His armor provided some defense, until one of the creatures was able to wedge its talons into Steel’s eye sockets.  The Justice Leaguer screamed as chills of agony blasted through his skull.

Airwave flew in tight, evasive spirals, releasing volleys of radio-electric blasts at his shadowy pursuers.  Wonder Woman, still shaking from the effects of a magickal attack from the giant Wizard avatar, fended off a tightening ring of shadow creatures as best she could.  Green Lantern had willed his power ring to create a glowing emerald Crocodile Hunter, which wrestled the Felix Faust avatar’s serpentine limbs away from Green Lantern and into the path of an oncoming shadow creature.

The distorted forms of Sentinel, Batman, Nightwing, and the older Superman, along with Fury, Huntress, Batwoman and Jay Garrick watched in helpless horror from the confines of the energy prison created by the Psycho Pirate.  Roger Hayden, for his own part, simply sat on the sands and stared forlornly at the menacing rocky precipice which hung impossibly in the red sky overhead.  The Psycho Pirate’s eyes were wide with childlike terror, and tears poured from them uncontrollably.  His mouth moved slightly, as if thinking and speaking were slightly beyond his capacity, and random twitches jerked his frame.  Every so often shadow creatures would attempt to descend on him as they had on the heroes, and with a distracted flick of the Spear he would deflect their advances.

The Atom, reduced to the size of a grain of sand but with the mass of a depleted uranium shell, flew headlong at the Psycho Pirate, intent on knocking him out and gaining control of the Spear of Destiny.  The Psycho Pirate seemed distracted, nearly mindless, and susceptible to an almost invisible attack.  With the same air of distracted fatalism, however, Hayden aimed the Spear directly at the Atom and fired a thin beam at the diminutive hero.  The Atom found himself propelled backwards, shrinking further and yet increasing in mass.  By the time he struck the ground, he had been transformed into a miniature black hole, which began sucking in sand, shadow creatures, and the heroes unlucky enough to be standing nearby.

Arsenal attempted to fire a grappling-line arrow at the stony brow of the Sphinx, but the graviton pull of the black hole engulfed him and the arrow, drawing them backward into oblivion together.  Plastic-Man’s flexible form distended as his feet were sucked in and his arms reached out for Captain Marvel, Jr.  The youngest of the Marvel family was unable to brace himself on the swirling desert sands, and he and Plastic-Man were both lost to the hungry maw of the black hole.  Green Fury let loose a near-nova burst of verdant flame, cutting a fiery swath through a cloud of shadow creatures, before being swallowed by the singularity that was once the Atom.

Firehawk roared along a flaming trail through the sky, burning through shadow creatures in her path.  Her eyes were narrow with purposeful intent, while she repeated softly to herself, “Oh, Ronnie, Ronnie, please be okay, baby.”  She reached the giant hourglass held by the towering avatar of Chronos and, without sparing a glance at the villain himself, blasted a column of searing flame at the archaic timepiece.  The hourglass shattered, spilling fine white powder into the air and revealing Firestorm and Captain Atom, coughing and disoriented but alive.

“Thanks … koff!koff! … babe,” Firestorm sputtered with genuine gratitude.  “If the world weren’t … koff! … about to end, I’d say I owe you one.”

“The world will not … kaff-kaff … end today,” Captain Atom insisted, brushing off his red tights, navy tunic and silvery sleeves.  “We have to believe that … kaff … as long as even one of us is still standing.”  He pointed down to the desert sands, and concluded, “We all should have concentrated on the Psycho Pirate alone from the beginning.”

Firestorm reached out for Firehawk’s hand.  “All right, then.  I’ll owe you one as soon as we get this over with.”  Firestorm dove down toward the Psycho Pirate, with Captain Atom and Firehawk close behind.

Dr. Light hovered near the Psycho Pirate, setting off miniature photonic explosions around the madman’s head in an effort to blind him.  The Martian Manhunter, still shedding chunks of ice after bashing free of the Icicle’s imprisoning berg, grasped the Psycho Pirate’s arms from behind, immobilizing the villain in his super strong grip.  Jack Knight fired the strongest single blast possible from his cosmic staff, then hooked the crook under the head of the Spear of Destiny and tugged with all his strength.

The Psycho Pirate offered no resistance to his manhandling by J’onzz, and his head lolled against his breastbone under Dr. Light’s visual assault.  Similarly, the cosmic energy unleashed by the inheritor of the Starman legacy met no defense as it engulfed the Psycho Pirate.  Yet as soon as Jack Knight tried to liberate the Spear of Destiny from his fingers, the Psycho Pirate rediscovered his purpose, clutching greedily at the awesome weapon with which he had loosed unmeasured destruction thus far.  With the snarl of a cornered animal, Roger Hayden focused the power of the Spear into a devastating fragmentary grenade, exploding not through space but time, rewriting history itself.  In the wake of the burst through the timestream, no scientific experiment ever transported J’onn J’onzz from his ancient Martian home to modern Earth, no astronomical accident ever granted powers to Kimiyo Hoshi, no sniper’s bullet ever found the heart of Jack Knight’s brother.  The three heroes disappeared from existence.

Firestorm, Firehawk and Captain Atom stopped short in their approaching flight.  They had expected to arrive alongside their allies and exploit the cover they provided.  They were stunned now not only by the sudden disappearance of their allies, but by the confusing fact that they could not even remember who had been engaging the Psycho Pirate in combat a split-second before.  The hesitation gave the enraged Psycho Pirate all the opening he would require.  As if he were a neanderthal wielding a simple sharpened stick, Hayden jabbed the air between himself and the airborne heroes.  Furious geysers of energy exploded from the head of the Spear of Destiny, slamming into Firestorm, Captain Atom, and Firehawk in turn.  One by one the heroes shriveled to skeletal remains, then exploded.  Firestorm’s corpse bloomed into a nuclear fireball, as Captain Atom’s bones scattered into a quantum energy brilliance and Firehawk’s flaming demise lit the sky.

Within the energy cocoon, the Huntress dangled noose-bound from the Bat-tree’s limb, fists shoved under her chin, fingers prying under the strangling rope.  She twisted as if a cruel wind played against her body, and found herself staring into the distended, wooden countenance of Batman trapped in the bark of the tree trunk.  A knowing look passed between the father and daughter, and Huntress nodded once, fiercely.  She began to swing the length of hangman’s rope, back and forth, and pulled her knees up to her chest.  As the swinging of the rope brought her close to the edge of the stasis field, she kicked out her legs mightily and pulled on the noose.  Accompanied by a pained groan from Batman, the branch to which the noose was secured snapped, and the Huntress continued forward, momentum driving her through the wall of the energy cocoon.  She righted herself and undid the noose, then sprinted toward the Psycho Pirate.

Now it was the Psycho Pirate’s turn to stop in dumbfounded amazement.  But the Huntress moved without pause, running to face the madman while swinging a prizefighter’s punch that crashed into Hayden’s left temple.  The Psycho Pirate stumbled into the sand, and began to scream at the top of his lungs.  “You all treat me like I’m crazy – but I’m the only one who remembers!  The only one who knows the TRUTH!  And I have the power to bring everything BACK!  How can you expect me to stop?  You’re the ones who are crazy, for trying to oppose me!  You, you, you!!  CRAZY, CRAZY, CRAZY!!!”

The Huntress did not bother to answer, instead sending a kick at the Psycho Pirate’s ribs.  The Spear of Destiny leapt for her at the same instant, guiding the Psycho Pirate’s hand unerringly with its vast power.  The force of her kick carried the Huntress onto the point of the Spear; a moment later the terrible weapon had run her through and blood poured from wounds on her stomach and back.  The Huntress fell to the desert floor.

Roger Hayden rose to his feet, dislodging the Spear of Destiny from the Huntress’ dying body.  A maniacal smile parted his lips, and looked to be followed by laughter, but at that moment a deafening thunderclap drowned out all sound in the area.  From Heaven above, the Spectre appeared, looming fifty feet tall, and announced in a booming voice tinged with perdition’s flames, “THIS HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH!”

“Nooooooo!!!” the Psycho Pirate shrieked.  With a gesture the villainous avatars began to move, closing in on the ominous new arrival.  The Spectre spread his deep green cloak, revealing his cadaverously pale body, and opened his arms in a warding gesture.  Immediately the gigantic forms of the Icicle, the Fiddler, the Wizard, Felix Faust, Dr. Alchemy and Chronos were incinerated, reduced to fluttering ashes that were scattered on the Saharan wind.  From the folds of the Specter’s cloak, Zauriel flew out into the night, sword burning bright before him.  The angel dove for the Psycho Pirate.

Features setting with inhuman resolve, the Psycho Pirate faced his approaching nemesis.  Zauriel brought his flaming sword down in a blazing arc, which was blocked by the Spear of Destiny.  The Psycho Pirate thrust at Zauriel’s golden armor with his weapon, but his advance was parried by the angel’s sword.  Two unearthly weapons clashed, blows ringing like cannon fire across the dunes.  The madman and the heavenly warrior put every ounce of will and more into each attack.  The earth shook, the air resonated with battle as if trillions of soldiers engaged one another.  Even the implacable crimson sky seemed to waver and weaken.  Haft and hilt locked together as the Psycho Pirate and Zauriel each struggled to gain the upper hand.  With their weapons braced together, Zauriel twisted the Spear of Destiny upside-down, beyond the point where the Psycho Pirate should have been forced to release it.  Instead Hayden merely bellowed with unanswerable rage, and a torrent of energy fired from the spearhead, joined by a column of heavenly fire from the angel’s sword.  The twin beam found the edge of the black hole that had once been the Atom, and blasted it off the planet.

As the swirling black hole skimmed through the atmosphere, the Psycho Pirate followed it with his eyes.  The black hole sailed past the Anti-Monitor’s citadel, and as Hayden once again became aware of the monstrous floating fortress he began to wail in remembered terror.  Effortlessly the Psycho Pirate flipped Zauriel overhead, disengaged the Spear from the sword and slashed through both of Zauriel’s wings in rapid succession.  As the last Justice Leaguer fell to the ground in agonizing pain, the Psycho Pirate turned in circles, surveying the bloody battlefield.

Wonder Woman was drowning in a black flood of shadow creatures.  Her struggle was the final one as the remainder of the shadowy legion darted back and forth across the desert, seeking prey among the corpses.  A few shadows had discovered the Psycho Pirate’s energy cocoon and were attempting to gain entrance to attack the heroes trapped within.  And looming above all, the stony turrets of the Anti-Monitor's dwelling.  “Can’t fight if there’s no hope, can’t fight if there’s no hope, no hope, no hope,” the Psycho Pirate mumbled near-incoherently.  The shadow creatures began to glide closer and closer to the Psycho Pirate.

The Spectre shed most of his height, resuming the same stature as a mortal man.  He closed the distance between himself and the Psycho Pirate as the shadow creatures began to claw tentatively at the madman’s boots and cape.

“ROGER HAYDEN,” the Spectre intoned, “YOUR MASTER DOES NOT BELONG HERE.  YOU MUST RID THIS UNIVERSE OF HIM.”

“No hope, no hope,” the Psycho Pirate cried in response.  “Nothing can stop … him … nothing … hope is nothing … I am nothing … no hope for me …”

“YOU MUST UNDO THAT WHICH YOU HAVE DONE,” the Spectre insisted.  The shadow creatures began to pool around the Psycho Pirate’s legs.  One raked its ebon talons down Hayden’s hip, but he did not seem to notice.  “IF NO CONCERN FOR REALITY ITSELF MAY MOVE YOU, REALIZE THAT YOUR VERY LIFE DEPENDS ON THE ACTION YOU MUST NOW TAKE.”

“ … no … no … no hope … no …,” the Psycho Pirate mewled in protest.

Anger began to swell within the spirit of God’s wrath.  “ROGER HAYDEN, HOPE REMAINS IN THE SPEAR OF DESTINY!  ARE YOU SO WEAK AS TO UNDERMINE THE MOST POWERFUL ARTIFACT IN CREATION?”

Hayden blinked as if slapped, and his gaze met the burning eyes of the Spectre with a hard gleam.  “Weak?” the Psycho Pirate repeated.  “Weak??  You call me WEAK?  No one can call me weak … EVER AGAIN!!!”  He raised the Spear of Destiny above his head, and as he did the shadow creatures were blown away like leaves before a hurricane gale.  Fundamental power seemed to gather within the Spear of Destiny from the far reaches of reality, as the Psycho Pirate drew heaving breaths and kept the weapon aloft.  The Spectre stood and watched, unmoving.

When the Spear of Destiny could restrain its power no longer, a ray of light jetted from its head, an impossibly bright white like the reflections of a million diamonds that tore through the red night sky straight toward the Anti-Monitor’s citadel.  As the light poured into the hanging edifice, the stones began to change in color, glowing in the same magickal whiteness as the beam that struck them.  When the fortress was completely whitewashed, the sky began to take on its blinding purity, spreading from horizon to horizon like a shroud.  Within moments nothing was distinguishable at all, as the Sphinx, the sands, the Psycho Pirate, the Spectre, and the bodies of fallen heroes were enveloped completely in white …

… the walls of Arkham Asylum showed the typical signs of wear of a structure its age, but no evidence of earthquake damage …

… the streets of Central City were peaceful, every building intact, the rampage of the Galactic Golem erased …

… Hugh Dawkins, the Tasmanian Devil, enjoyed a glass of wine unpetrified and unmolested in a Parisian café, along with Sigrid Nansen, the Ice Maiden …

… the East End of London remained unwashed, the waters of the North Sea firmly in their proper place at the end of the Thames …

… Supergirl flew carefree through the skies over Leesburg, with no memory of ordeals inspired by red kryptonite …

… Tim Drake finished an uneventful patrol of Gotham City, which offered neither unnatural electrical storms nor demonic shadow creatures to contend with …

… the JLA stood in the shadow of the Sphinx as the sun began to rise over the Nile.  Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Green Lantern, Flash, Martian Manhunter, Plastic-Man, Huntress, Steel, and Zauriel formed a rough half-circle behind the Spectre.  The Spectre’s attention was fixed on the gasping form of the Psycho Pirate, kneeling weakly on the sands, propped up by the Spear of Destiny.

“See! I'm not weak," the crimson and black-clad madman gasped through heaving breaths. “I'm ... I ... I just wanted to go home." And the man who only minutes ago brought the world to the brink of
destruction hung his head and quietly wept.  “I just want to go home.”

Quietly, the Specter moved to the fallen man-god's side an placed his own hand on the Spear of Destiny. “DO YOU TRULY WISH TO RETURN TO THE WORLD YOU KNEW, OLD FOE?”

The master of emotions spared a bitter bark of laughter.  “Aren't you listening, you pale-faced ...”  With that the Psycho Pirate realized the Specter had taken hold of the Spear.  Tightening his own grip, Hayden rose to his feet. “Wait a minute, Spectre! What are you doing?!?  Release my weapon!  It's mine! I can destroy even you with thought!”

“YOU WILL NOT." The Spectre assured the Psycho Pirate flatly. “FOR I AM GOING TO GRANT YOU YOUR HEART’S DESIRE.”

With one hand still wrapped deliberately around the Spear of Destiny just below its head, the Spectre pointed to a space just before the Psycho Pirate, and a shimmering golden iris opened in the air.  The Psycho Pirate peered through the iris with a far-seeing stare, and a look of contented wonder illuminated his face.  The Spectre drew the Spear from Hayden’s grasp, and gently pushed the Psycho Pirate through the golden gap.  The aperture closed in on itself as the costumed villain disappeared.

Without turning around, the Spectre informed the JLA, “IT IS FINISHED.”

EPILOGUE – THE WATCHTOWER

“I can’t believe Zauriel’s gone,” Green Lantern sighed, leaning on the meeting table emblazoned with the JLA logo.  “I was just getting used to having an honest-to-God angel on the team … being able to say ‘God’ around him without worrying he’d enforce the third commandment personally.”

“You can’t take the Catholic out of the Irish, can you, Kyle?” the Flash asked with a laugh.  Green Lantern willed his ring to create a floating emerald mouth near the Flash, which stuck out its tongue and made a raspberry noise.

“Zauriel made the choice he felt he had to make,” Batman stated authoritatively.  “The Spear of Destiny needs a full-time guardian, to make sure it never falls into the wrong hands again.  Aside from his unique qualifications to be that guardian, I believe Zauriel felt as if it were his calling to assume that role.”

“But what a lonely calling it must be,” Wonder Woman put in.  “And Zauriel did so love being around people.”

“He knows he will always have a home with the Justice League,” the Martian Manhunter said simply.  “We may see him again, some day.”

“Indeed,” Superman nodded.  “Now, if there is no other business…” The Man of Steel looked around to be certain there was none, and said, “As chairman, I declare this meeting adjourned.  Thanks, everyone.”

As the heroes stood up from their chairs and made their exits from the room, the Huntress lingered near the table.  Batman was still seated.  “Something on your mind, Huntress?” the Dark Knight inquired.

Taking a deep breath, the Huntress answered more forcefully than she intended.  “I need to take a leave of absence from the League, effective immediately.”

Batman showed no surprise.  “I suspected as much, from the way you avoided eye contact with everyone else at the meeting.  Why didn’t you bring this up as a point of order before Superman adjourned?”
The Huntress released the breath she had been holding and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.  She pressed her fists together in frustration and finally spoke.  “I … have a lot of things to sort out.  Things that no one would understand.  I wasn’t sure I could account for myself in front of the whole League in a way that made any sense.  The things that happened with the Psycho Pirate and the Spear … the things that happened to me, what I was thinking and feeling … who I was …” She shook her head forlornly.  “I have to do some … soul-searching,” Huntress finished, struggling with embarrassment.

“I can understand soul-searching,” Batman admitted tersely.

“That’s not … what I’m afraid you won’t understand,” the Huntress retorted.  An awkward silence followed, as two people now related only by vigilantism and violence remembered the familial personas they had briefly assumed during the Psycho Pirate’s reign of terror.

“I see,” Batman broke the silence.

“I’m sure,” Huntress dismissed him through clenched teeth.  Reaching for her cowl, she produced her JLA communications uplink, which she tossed onto the table.  As it clattered across the polished surface toward Batman, she said, “I’ll use the teleporter to get back to Gotham, and then you can erase my access codes.”  Without another word she strode from the room.

Batman sat for a minute alone in the meeting room, then stood up.  Almost unconsciously, the detective used the motion of his cape around his arms to conceal his hand picking up the Huntress’ communications uplink and depositing it in a utility belt compartment.  Batman made his way out of the room and down the corridor.  He stopped himself as he noticed, through an open doorway, an irregular shadow in a dark room.

“I didn’t expect a mysterious agent of the Almighty to hang around so long,” the Batman said humorlessly from the doorway.  The Spectre did not respond, but continued to face the window on the far side of the room, engrossed in the blue-swirled-in-white image of the Earth below.

Batman stepped into the room and drew near the Spectre.  “Something has been nagging at my mind,” Batman confessed.  “I don’t believe you sent Hayden to Heaven … or Hell, for that matter.  But I do believe that he’s gone from this world.  And from this reality.

“There were echoes of the great Crisis in all of this,” Batman continued, a slight edge of menace creeping into his voice.  “Once again you were instrumental, and once again we almost had to face that Anti-Monitor being.  And once again only those of us closest to the epicenter and most deeply affected really remember what happened.  It’s even brought some of the Crisis back to me,” Batman pressed on.

“I remember that there were once infinite Earths, independent of one another, but the Crisis brought about their end.  That was what Hayden was ranting and raving about – he was a holdover from Earth-2, and he thought the Spear could help him recreate the ‘home’ he remembered.  His home that was no more.

“But if all the other Earths are no more, and Hayden is no longer on this Earth, where did he go, Spectre?  Where did you send him?” Batman demanded.

The Spectre turned his hooded countenance upon the defender of Gotham City, but said nothing.

Undeterred, Batman continued, “I think you never told us the truth about how you defeated the Anti-Monitor.  I don’t think the infinite Earths were destroyed, I think they were just lost.  Placed beyond barriers that the Anti-Monitor couldn’t break, a firewall of reality if you will.  Saved from destruction by being hidden away.  To create that firewall, you and your “master” merged several different realities together into a single timeline. It’s why certain elements of this world never quite seem to fit, like Hayden. But since you know where you hid them, you can conduct anyone you want to them.  Including Hayden.”

The Spectre’s face was capable of less emotional expression than Batman’s own.  His voice was that of a dead soul … but something other than divine purpose hinted in its tone.  “YOURS IS TRULY ONE OF THE FINEST DEDUCTIVE MINDS OF ALL, BATMAN.  YOU HAVE PERCEIVED THAT WHICH OTHERS HAVE NOT.  THE TIME IS NEAR WHEN MY ‘BARRIERS’ WILL WEAKEN OF THEIR OWN ACCORD, AND ALL WILL BE CLEAR TO YOU THEN, WHEN IT SUITS THE WILL OF THE PRESENCE.  BUT NOT NOW.”  The Spectre reached out and traced a single finger across Batman’s cowled forehead.  A blank expression swept across the Dark Knight’s features, as the Spectre melted into the darkness.

Batman looked out the window overlooking the Earth, still and alone in the darkness.  In a barely audible whisper, he said, “Good luck, Helena.  And to us all.”

ONLY THE BEGINNING…

Masterfully Scripted by Dale Glaser
Ably Plotted by Clay Arceneaux
with ideas and contributions from just about every writer at FDC