The Wall

September 18, 2018:

Six months of travel have brought the Justice League to the very edge of the universe. But the enemy is literally backed against the wall.
The Source Wall.
It ends here, the final battle of the Justice League against the Elder God Set. (Emits by Dr. Strange)

And the End of the Universe there is a Wall

Characters

NPCs: The Demon Lords Y'Garon and Sluggoth, the Elder Gods Set and Atum, the New God Metron

Mentions: Darkseid

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

After the victory at the Azure Sky Sanctum it looked like the Justice League would catch the demon-crewed comet soon enough. But the loses of so many sailors among the Bilskirnir's crew at the claws of the N'Garai, including brave Captain Njordson, slowed down the Asgardian vessel. Thor had to take command and the Justice League had to join the crew duties, but it is just not the same.

Nevertheless they have managed to stay on the trail. Despite Y'Garon sorceries, despite demon attacks, despite being drawn into the squabbles between the Lords of Order and Chaos, the supernatural vessel managed to stay just behind the Comet, giving the enemy not a single day to rest or hide.

And so they have chased the comet to the edge of the universe. They have no place to run anymore. This will be the end of almost six months of adventures through the mythical realms.

Space and time warp aside, here in the far shores of the Astral Space there is no worlds, no stars, and yet there is something. A last Realm, a last island before the unknown Emptiness Beyond.

Space, it seems. But no. Hal Jordan's ring tells him it is some kind of vast dimension similar to real space, but not working exactly under the same rules. The charts in the map room of the Bilskirnir identify this place as 'Urgrund'. But they are copies of charts many millions of years old.

Ahead float two orbs. Two huge worlds, each ten times the size of Earth. Impossibly, they seem to orbit one around the others without clashing, despite the absence of a star. One is a jewel of blue and green. The other is dull grey, with what seem huge volcanoes on the suface.

The Bilskirnir's instruments reveal the Comet is here, a mere hour ahead, and they are quickly catching up space. Full sails, the Asgardian vessel races forward defying all the laws of physics and logic.

--——

Though Caitlin has no affinity for the mystic arts, she understands systems. And on some level, magic is just a series of systems— particularly the way the Asgardians use it to power what passes for machinery on their vessels. While they skate the edge of the universe, Caitlin has ample opportunity to study the Bilskirnir's operations and contribute any way she can. The experience has been a harrowing one; Caitlin's lost a bit of muscle mass, gone leaner than she's accustomed to.

But she's pulling her weight every day, whether she's working with the Asgardians or cooking in the kitchen— or simply lending a strong shoulder to the ships' rudder or fending off space monsters. During their downtime, she pesters anyone and everyone who'll spend time teaching her something useful. Sparring with Thor and the Amazons, pestering Hal about the Lantern Corps, trying to grasp magical and dimensional theory, or just hunting for someone who'll help her whittle away the hours of their endless voyage.

She's on deck when they pass into the spatial disturbance, unarmed for the moment but with her blunt, heavy mace nearby for when things go sideways. She's assisting the Captain as a yeoman, trying to learn the methods the Asgardians use for navigation, and spots the planets. "Land ho! Or… whatever!" she calls, her voice carrying easily. She peers at the two celestial bodies, frowning. "So this is Urgrund?" she inquires. "What a weird setup, they're in a binary orbit, but there's no star between them," she remarks. Caitlin scowls, that clearly jogging her memory slightly but not enough to shake a recollection loose.


For her part, Vivienne is simply sipping tea and passing the time with idle reading. She occasionally vanishes into her quarters and doesn't come out for hours. However, the majority of time she can simply be found on deck, out of the way, assisting with water as necessary, and idly sipping her tea while watching the universe pass by. When you're as old as she is, a month? Two months? A year? All the same.


Donna has not bee as idle as she might like to have been on the journey. She was still, in her way, recovering from the encounter with Set. But it simply wasn't possible to sit idle, as her particular strengths and talents had been necessary and useful. And so she had been, working any of the stations which had required her. She had, after all, been born, as much as she could have been said to have been born, on an island, and sailing was something she had some skill in from her earliest days. But now, with the alert that their quarry was imminent, she moved away from the station she had been at, and towards the deck, for a clearer view of what lay ahead.


That first span of weeks Hal kept up the regime of looking like he always does. That has changed after time, not because hes slacking off simply due to something different in a long voyage of just those League companions present and a few Asgardians still crewing the ship.

A beard, longer hair and more Asgard/Nordic attire as is expected. His own clothes gone the way of the dinosaur with the time spent and only so much allowance for his ring to keep operating off charges alone. He'll have to return to Oa when he gets back. This he is dreading.
Stomping along the ship's upper floors he's playing the role of crewman until that sight is before him, the ring flashing emerald as data floods him. He's been helping Caitlin with mock pilot controls of various ships, drinking copious amounts, sparring when he feels it, exploring alongside the ship and around it while monitoring communications. It has been rather boring in stretches but at least there is decent company.


Weeks ago, Mirmirdottier had come to THOR and NJORDSON with a plan. The goddess had studied the vessel's instruments each time they drew close to the comet. Replayed, upon mystical contraption, each time it seemingly vanished into the ether. She was certain that given enough time she could calibrate the vessel's sensors to track their foe.

At each encounter, as the others adventured, she and her team had broken down the instruments piece by piece and recalibrated them. Each time the vessel got underway again they had been able to track the comet with increased precision gaining days of time as it's cloak became fallible.

"Mirmirdottier I introduce you to Caitlin Fairchild," Thor had said following the latter's display at the azure sky, "A technomancer of Earth with the courage of a god. She will aid you in your duties." These words uttered in blatant violation of one of the vessel's primary rules: That no mortal be allowed to interfere with the vessel's operation.

Yet as the crew has begun to thin throughout the course of their exploits it became only natural that they be put to use - even if only to combat boredom.

NOW..
Thor does not sit idle easily. The length of time between eventful occurrences causes him to oscillate between brooding impatience and drunken revelry. With his long blonde beard its easier to see his father in him. Standing near the ship's wheel he his temperament seems to have settled to an appropriately heroic mien. The modifications to the vessel and the proximity of the comet has kindled a fire behind his eyes as stands, one hand upon the shoulder of the helmsman, "Steady," Odinson says fingers squeezing gently, "We finally have them. I can /feel it/."


The Asgardians are arming for battle again. Six months is not a long trip for godlings, but they are clearly eager to end this business and avenge their captain.

** BOOM! **

Suddenly there is a stranger on the ship's deck. A tall, wiry man on a blue sci-fi suit on a large, strange throne-chair made of metal and light. He studies the ship briefly with critical eye, then spots Hal Jordan. "You? A Green Lantern among Asgardians. How strange. Ah, tell me your story, travelers. I am Metron and it is my task and my fate to learn and record."

Several armed Asgardians surround Metron, But the blue-clad man seems completely unconcerned. When one of them tries to touch the chair his hand stops a few inches from the device, as if there was an invisible forcefield.


A glance at the others and the arrival of the Metron and Vivienne hmms. She then idly turns her gaze back to the tea and her study of what is ahead. She nods her head as she grins and idly sips. If she's alarmed by the arrival of Metron…she is not showing it.


Caitlin's right there with the Asgardians when Metron manifests in front of them. She's moving and off the upper deck with a single long-legged vault, gripping her borrowed Asgardian mace and shouldering up with the warriors flanking him. When Metron speaks, though, she relaxes a little— an unconscious reaction to the calm he exhibits. She stays warily alert and ready, glancing back at Thor as if just waiting for the word to see how they should 'handle' the newcomer. Hal, however, gets a speculative glance as Metron outs the Lantern so casually.


The sudden appearance of Metron has Hal Jordan going from bearded 'local' to costumed Lantern. Emerald - glowing construct armor overtop of his form fitted uniform and the ring forms in to a gauntlet.
"Metron. A New God." The Corpsman says quickly, "You're not here to interfere I hope." The records on the man are spotty at best. Chunks of data but inconclusive or just first person documentation that requires some sifting through.
A sideglance at the others, Donna, Thor, Cait and Viv before he looks back at the chair floating and seated /watcher/. "If so, you're going to want to stand aside."

"Thor, what the call here, big shooter?" A wary eye kept on the odd newcommer.


Thor vault's the railing that separates the raised aft portion of the ship onto the deck proper, hammer in hand.

*THUD*

As shield and spear are raised in response to what appears to be an invader the bearded God of Thunder comes to loom ferociously behind the host of godly warriors, "Begone," Thor demands with annoyance and raises Mjolnir to just above his head, "Return to us when our labors have finished with the finest brew of New Genesis and we shall talk or not at all."

"The comet that contains Atum is finally within our grasp and we will not continue this journey another six months because you have interfered with our hunt."

The sound of metal singing is soft for a moment but rapidly increases in volume. The head of Mjolnir then begins shed a pale blue light. Wispy tentacles of energy wafting upward from the invisible field about the chair and seemingly into the hammer itself.

Thor's eyes locks with Metron's, "Begone." He repeats.


Whatever Donna might have been expecting out of this journey, it was certainly not this. But rather than the calming response he seems to get from Caitlin, Donna looks, rather unlike herself, absolutely thunderous, angry in a way few have ever seen her. Thankfully, she doesn't act on it, yet, but she also stays well back from the newly arrived Metron, eyes darting towards Hal, as he seems to be the one that the visitor has singled out for conversation.


Metron nods lightly to Hal, acknowledging his words. "I never interfere. I merely observe and learn. However you might find the other New Gods less accommodating. You are getting close to the range of Apokolips cannons, and Lord Darkseid rarely welcomes intruders."

He looks at Thor next, arching an eyebrow at his demand, then ignoring it. "Atum. So this is the identity of the prisoner, my thanks. The crew of the construct did not want to speak to me. But I knew who they are from my studies, Sligguth and Y'Garon are they. An unlikely duo, as both fancy themselves as great lords in their bleak domains. The rest of the crew are but animated corpses, deprived of life-force to feed the powers binding Atum."

Icy blue eyes study the rest of the crew in front of him, "so this is a rescue operation. Fascinating. But I have to wonder what has brought them," he points to the distant crystal comet, "here. You should wonder too. They don't seem to be heading towards Apokolips or New Genesis. Ah, look… they are careful to stay out of range of the dark world defense grid."


The word 'Apokalips' hits Caitlin like a ton of bricks, and she stumbles a half-step back. The Asgardians unconsciously move to fill the gap she leaves, not leaving Metron a clear line of escape from their perimeter, and she steps away from the crowd.

To her credit, she doesn't drop her weapon, at least. Still— she finds something to lean against, trying discreetly to hide a frenzied panic attack that leaves her face absolutely blanched and her shoulders trembling with fear.


"Good." He says for their sake and his, turning his attention from Metron to the others again, Jordan will wait, he is technically out of his jurisdictional ranges but has a task to uphold as a member of the League and for the Universe. Some callings are waived no doubt.

"The last time the League clashed with Darkseid we broke a peace treaty. I'm sure he is not keen on us… lets hope we go overlooked." Caitlin was there for that. Part of that mishap almost two years ago. Ascending to a hover the Green Lantern looks ready to plunge in once again…. then again, he almost always is. Not that he is eager to tangle with New Genesis or Apokalips. Lanterns are powerful but New Gods… definitely live up to their namesakes.


Vivienne finally looks up and idly sets her tea down. She stands and walks over to the chair of Metron and looks directly at him, "This game of yours is over. Tell me, Metron, what happened when last the full might of two pantheons plus the fae turned their full attention in a single direction?" The lady tilts her head, "Give up? Nothing. It has never happened. I fear not for our journey for I am both fae and Tuatha de Dannon. There is Thor Odinson and beside him stands some of Earth's mightiest."

She idly looks past Metron, "We have things to do, watch perhaps but any who interfere risk…" Her veiled eyes turn to Metron, "A. Great. Deal."


Ignored, Thor inhales deeply and takes Mjolnir into two hands bringing it downward before him. He clutches it level with his chest and then pushes forward into the rings of gods. The interaction between the hammer and the field seemingly intensifies. The Thunder God's hands grow taught with a grip-strength that could fuse titanium bands.

The hammer sings louder. The draw of energy becoming a tug-of-war between godly artifacts.


In the time that it took for Vivienne to approach, and to speak to the visitor, some of the anger had faded from Donna's face, but there was a certain amount of scoffing in the tone of her voice, "You are wondering? I find that hard to believe, Metron. Impossible, in fact." Donna remained back from the group, though she had no difficulty projecting her voice so that he could hear her. "I would be more likely to believe that you //do/ know something, but you are waiting for us to beg you to enlighten us."


"I do not interfere," replies Metron to Vivienne. Then gives Thor an irritated glance. "As long as I sit on Mobius Chair no power mortal or divine can harm me," he states. "Not Darkseid, not Odin, and certainly not you, thunderer."

Finally Donna talks, and the New God stares at her for a few seconds. He sits on Mobius Chair. But Mobius has another name: Anti-Monitor.

There is maybe some acknowledge in those cold eyes. If so it is very brief. "As much as I know, Donna Troy of Earth. There always so *much* more to discover." He smiles without good mood. "The prison artifact is moving past the twin worlds. Do you know what is beyond? Do you know the fate of the Promethean Giants? Some fates are worse than death. If you wish to save your Sun God, you have to hurry. I will be watching."

Metron, always willing to lord his knowledge over his 'lessers'.

There is another loud BOOM and the god, and his chair, are gone.


Thor grins with smug satisfaction when Metron vanishes. Lowering Mjolnir he tosses the mallet with certain arrogance as he surveys the host of companions which surround him, "There now," he says to Vivienne, "He clearly underestimated us," and places a hand upon her shoulder.

Then, giving the helmsman a distracted look, "Avoid the defense grid! Swing us wide!"


"Insufferable ass." Donna's voice is venomous, as she turns away from where the New God was, in time to catch sight of Caitlin's response to Metron, or perhaps to his words. Only then does her expression soften, and she moves to join the younger woman, reaching out to place a hand on her arm, "Caitlin. You are safe here. There is no reason to be afraid. I will not allow anything to happen to you. I give you my word." She does offer a glance towards Thor, "If we are close enough, is there any way that we can catch the comet and halt it's forward progress? Bring our enemies to us?"


Caitlin turns to Donna when she's touched, very visibly trying to Hold It Together. She does a pretty good job of it— there's no tears when she turns to face Donna, just a strained jaw and a bit of damp near the corner of her eyes. She leans very slightly against Donna, borrowing some of the other woman's strength while she marshals herself.

"'m okay," she murmurs, finally, and touches Donna's arm gratefully. Cait swallows, steeling herself, and puts her game face on while turning back to the larger assembly, and offering no immediate explanation for her reaction.


Avoiding approaching Apokolips delays the Asgardian ship some, but they are still catching up with the comet. The demons did the same. The twin worlds are left behind. And past them the crew of the Bilskirnir can see some lights. Not stars, whole galaxies. Ahead there is nothing but emptiness.

One million miles from the Comet. Not emptiness, something ahead it is gray and covers the while hemisphere-space.

Half a million miles from the Comet. There is something huge ahead, so huge that covers all the space they can see. Even Dyson Sphere wouldn't be so large.

A hundred thousand miles. It is a Wall. It is literally a WALL at the end of the UNIVERSE. The magnitude of the WALL is mind-breaking. It is truly infinite.

The Comet is diving against the Wall. But the Bilskirnir will ram the demon ship before they hit. No way to make a soft boarding, they have no time!

Impact in twenty seconds.


As Donna heard the call, her feet rose from the deck, the woman hovering, so as to avoid being thrown should the impact be more damaging than they anticipated. Her grip on Caitlin tightened as well, fingers curling into the woman's shoulder plating, so that, if things did go ill, she could lift Caitlin from her feet to stare the woman being tossed about. "I am as ready as I am likely to be." Still, she had no visible weapons, and the Orb was nowhere to be seen. She clearly intended, for the moment, to make due with what she had.


Caitlin makes sure her own gear is set. Borrowed arms and armor, a little slingpack that'll stay out of her way. Her hair's tied back in a short and efficient braid, coiled at the base of her neck as several of the Asgardian warriors have done to make it less convenient a handhold. She picks up her dented, worn mace, long since past the time when it should be resigned from service, and rests it on her shoulder. Her other hand grips the underside of Donna's arm in a careful grip— it wouldn't do for the redhead to get flung into the depths of space and be stranded in the void for the rest of her short life, after all.


Hal Jordan is done with talk. His next step is to burst past the others and Metron to go to the head of the ship, where one would assume jibboom, figurehead, keel and all that would be. The Lantern then begins to focus his will towards the front of the Bilskirnir. If they are going to ram the demonic ship, it is going to be with some style and additional impact.

With hands before him the vessel itself in an impressive enough conserved display of pent up will the Corpsman erects a new figurehead before them, a green shovel like plow that belongs more on an old train with a large spike above it instead of the bowsprit, jet engines appear to each side of the vehicle as well, gushing out pulses of emerald flame to aid in it's speed. Now fortified and ready to board with some additional impact. This however will take focus for the time being, its a larger undertaking after all.
To hell with any sort of soft boarding.


Walking up to beside Caitlin and Donna, Vivienne puts her hands idly before herself. SHe takes a slow breath and lets it out before saying, "Caitlin Fairchild." She turns her veiled gaze to the woman, "Before you is life." She smiles softly at the woman, "A life as similar to any life that you have faced before this and just as different." She looks ahead at the coming impact, "You have faced death many times and overcome it." She smiles softly as she looks ahead, "Fear, however, is a different form of death. A death you can have and still breath while having it. Do not let fear be your death." She turns her whole form to Caitlin and gives her a wry smile, "Face this with a smile for death is nothing. It is meaningless. Life, a smile, a friend at your side." She turns to look at Donna and then Caitlin in turn, "Those are the things that matter. Fear not death and fear not the road ahead. Fear nothing at all." She nods her head, "For when we lose our fear, we win the day from all evil that comes our way."


They had never been this close to the Comet.

It is a prison, of course. A dark glass caged in bone, obsidian and dark metal, a fortress-like thing on one side, hinting the 'up' in the artificial gravity of the thing. It is far larger than the Bilskirnir, itself a fairly large ship, certainly larger than the largest galleons that navigated the waters of Earth centuries ago.

Hollow-eyed figures await in the battlements and the surface of the construct. Men, demons, aliens. All dead. Their life-forces sacrificed to keep the thing running and Atum imprisoned.

Despite being made of wood Bilskirnir's enchantment make it nearly indestructible, but Green Lantern's construct adds hitting power, toughness and protects the crew better. Still the impact is terrifying. Bone breaks, rock is pulverized, emerald constructs shatter and even the wooden beams of the Asgardian ship groan and splinter.

Among crumbling buildings the Asgardian ship slows down, and immediately comes under attack of a horde of undead. Some attack with blades and maces, most just with claws and teeth. The air reeks of necromancy, it is cold and stagnant. Beyond the horde the demon Sligguth, a nine feet tall lizardman, arms himself with a heavy scimitar. While his companion, Y'Garon, looking like an old man in robes, boosts the strength and speed of the undead and prepares the darkest curses to cast to the heroes.

A few hundred yards over the carnage Metron watches quietly.


Donna remained silent, observant, eyes on the comet they could see approaching, and the green construct that formed at the bow of the ship, offering a nod to Vienenne's words, before she began a silent countdown in her head. Donna was too old, and too wily not to be able to time the moment of impact just right, and in the split second before the ship hit the comet, she rose, flying upward, her Olympian strength enough that she easily lifted Caitlin from the ground, protecting the other woman from the force of the impact, the ship moving around them, without throwing the younger woman from her feet. As soon as the shockwave of force passed over them, she returned to her feet, releasing Caitlin, in deference to the woman's greater height, before she came down, immediately moving to fill the breech. She cared not at all for the undead, as they swarmed the ship. They were beyond hope of salvation, and perhaps, though none here might know it, there was some memory of the horror of the animate dead that she had once faced in the wake of the power of the black lantern corp that gave her attack added fervor as she waded into the oncoming bodies, using fists, feet, strength and that concussive force to make a hole through the enemy to get to their masters.


A look at the situation and Vivienne is already thinking. She's reaching out with a hand, feeling the area ahead of her. Her unseeing eyes taking in far more than those that can see things. She finally looks to the others just as impact hits and her very being turns to water. Even as the water sloshes and splashes, she raises up on a column of it, turning solid once more and saying, "You all need to focus on keeping their entire attention." Her voice taking on a greater cut of her typically Celtic accent, "I have a plan but it only succeeds if they pay me no mind." She then simply looks over as the ship is invaded.

"Remember, make them think you are everything…" And then she sinks down and the water that she is spreads out into a thin sheet moving along the surface as if simply a spill here and there and nothing more.


"Attention getting. One of my favorite past times." Jordan says loud as his construct shatters with the impact, if he was not hovering he would have been on his ass. As the horde surges towards them he surrounds his fists in larger 'fists' and begins to swing through the undead mess.

Over his shoulders what appears to be oversized rockets and canons begin to form up in the air, arming up and firing off in sporadic bursts fires. Machine guns, explosive rounds and rockets. Explosive, loud, colorful. These are all fitting.


Caitlin nods at Vivianne, flashing a smile at the woman. It's a wan, tight little expression, but she's relieved enough to exchange handclasps with her and Donna. "Good luck," she tells her friends, and takes a settling breath, banishing Apokalips from her mind. Fight now; breakdown later.

The ship hits /hard/ and Caitlin lets Donna lift her to avoid the worst of the impact. The second her boots hit the ground, Caitlin's bullrushing forward with the rest of the Asgardian crew, adding a screaming battlecry to their frenzied roar. She's /fast/, too, charging with the head of the ground-bound pack, and they slam into the undead like a wave. One of them might have been stopped. Five, slowed. But they hit like a spear with Caitlin at the head of the phalanx, swinging her borrowed mace around with superhuman strength until it's a blurred line bashing away every undead monster that gets in arm's reach. She keeps screaming, too, loud enough to deafen anything less durable than an Asgardian, and fights with all the fury and violence six months of this quest could inspire.


The Wall looms closer.

If any of the heroes raises their eyes, it is not a uniform surface. There are beings there, or maybe statues of beings, as if bound to the wall. Some are humanoid, most are not. Monsters, demons, aliens of all kinds. Some are larger than whole continents, Promethean Giants, but there seems to be many others among them, country sized, city-sized, and if watched with enhanced vision, more and more, some human-sized, some smaller. Millions, billions, trillions. The Infinite Wall is a mosaic. Or if those figures were living beings once, the universe's largest graveyard.

On the demon ship surface undead hordes fall like toy soldiers to the might of the League, the Asgardians also destroying dozens as they attempt to board the Bilskirnir. Thor alone contains and plows through a whole army that comes from the other side.

But the Justice League is going after the Demon Lords; that is obvious for them. Of the trio Donna is the only immortal, so Sligguth targets her, charging like a bull, but with the strength of a titan. Y'Garon instead targets the Green Lantern, weaving blasts of dark fire from his right hand, while brandishing a black dagger on his left, to ward off a possible counterattack.


There were two things that made Donna Troy especially dangerous. First, that she was, indeed, immortal. And second, that other shes had died so often already, that there was no fear in this Donna of dying. It was a strange paradox. And, she had heard Vivienne's command and would see it through to the best of her ability, whatever the cost. And so, when she saw one of the demons charging at her, she simply dove ahead, meaning to impact with it and, hopefully, grapple it and try to render it somewhat more approachable by the other fighters.


Jordan figures he has been afforded some attention now as Y'Garon makes himself known. A few living corpses batted aside and Jordan constructs his own shield and a large mace, a knock of one more animated opponent before he is charging to close the distance. Hal is a surprisingly good fighter, a brawler however, sharp fast strikes, a hellova a punch and pretty good with weapons but this isn't really his thing. fortunately his ring compensates with autoshields and reflexive tugs left or right to aid his actions while he engages in a duel with the Lord.

"Make your magic happen." He says through gritted teeth to the rest of the League. Mindful of their own positions, thunderclaps and battle noises.


While the leaague fights, The Lady feels somewhat bad. She is a true Irish lass…meaning she'll kick your arse this way and that if you cross her. However, right now, she's not best in that spot. Instead she's slipping her mutable form right through the battle. It's not likely the undead are even smart enough to note water moving beneath them and hopefully the other beings are too distracted to even care. She's going straight for the prison. When she gets close, she'll start to reform and immediately begin to start focusing on a counter to it. Her eyes and focus becoming sharp as she attempts to break through the weakening bindings on Atum. Release him and the job is done.


Bruisers always go for that big fight. Toe to toe, throwing punches, usually with whomever they see as the biggest threat.

Despite her size, Caitlin's a relatively cunning person. She fights tactically, refusing to give in to the berserker rage she's emulating. Hal looks like he's got the current situation somewhat handled, so Caitlin veers towards the Sligguth who has his sights fixed on Donna. Because this close to the edge of the universe, immortality might be a bit more fluid of a word than some might think, and Caitlin clearly doesn't want to lose one of her dear friends.

Hal seems to have the situation handled, but then again— Hal -always- has the situation handled. So Caitlin focuses on the short term problem of the lumbering bruiser who's threatening to tie up Donna in the fight, and she starts veering towards him. For once, having no inherent magical qualities gives her an advantage; Caitlin simply doesn't register as anything particularly extraordinary. So when she's within a few running steps, her left hand comes up with a laser emitter culled from spare parts and wreckage. She cranks the diopter setting to maximum and aims it at Sligguth's eyes, with enough wattage to set a piece of paper on fire.

But that's a pre-emption to the real attack, which is Caitlin dodging forward and swinging her mace at Sligguth's knee with both hands and all the force she can put behind the blow, hips twisting powerfully.


Sligguth welcomes Donna's tackle, he believes himself to be the stronger of the two, and he is right, although the difference is not as great as he believed. The impact of the two immortals sends a shockwave through the area, scattering the few still moving undead, then they go rolling through the floor, with the giant serpent demon trying to pin the amazon down and sink his poisonous fangs on her.

Suddenly his eye is stabbed by laser light. The demon hisses, shaking his head, losing his grip for a second. Then an Agardian metal mace hits his knee. He had disregarded Caitlin for being a mortal, his mistake. The redhead is strong enough the blow cracks bone and tears the supernatural ligaments and tendons, making the demon lord scream in pain and rage.

Meanwhile Y'Garon smiles at Hal. "You are one of the fabled Green Lanterns. I have heard of your kind for countless ages but they rarely cross in the path of the Elder Gods." His voice is like a metal knife on a chalkboard. "Show me your might before dying, ring-bearer," he taunts, blasting him with dark blasts of matter-energy that clings like acid and bites like worms.


Donna had never expected herself to be the victor of this contest, she only hoped to disorient the thing, and to bring it down. She managed, well, more or less, though it was Caitlin who really did the most damage. Not that Donna was going to pout about that. In point of fact, as Caitlin's mace struck that knee, she tightened her grip, putting all of her strength behind it as she clung on, ignoring the attempt at biting, whether it hit or not, as she tried to use strength and the concussive force she could muster around her hands to help her tug, as if she fully intended to try to rip the things leg off. Occupied as she was, she was oblivious to Vivienne's work, and too preoccupied to assist Hal.


@emit A Vivienne reaches for the prison spells, she can feel Atum’s warm, angry presence. The Sun God is weakened by the months of imprisonment, and still as powerful as any Skyfather. He has been tearing at the prison relentless, until Y’Garon had no choice but begin ritually killing cultists and demons and feed their souls and spirits to the enchantments binding him. And even those measures are now failing. Vivienne hitting it from outside causes catastrophic damage to the enchantments, they start crumbling.


The destruction of his mace is soon. It only lasts so long but is replaced by his own hand coming out and swinging with near-Kryptonian impact levels. The shield cast aside and he tosses his shoulder in, propelling himself forward to Y'Garon. Not able to split his focus as his own fight is that consuming. He'll engage in a fast physical bout with the Lord. His strikes and hits everything hes got right now even if he is being knocked around, the man will get back up and keep surging on. Singular focused at this point. All of his mental potency on his target.
"You're as ugly as you are slow." All he manages, weak comeback but hes taxed to his limit.


Unfortunately, Vivienne can't do much about the fight happening. Not now, not at this time. There's very little here that she can interact with save herself and the enchantments before her. She's no sorcerer supreme or anything but she's a millenia old goddess, so she's got a trick or two. Her whole thoughts are pressed into the bindings, ripping and tearing at them with a magic likely wholly foriegn to the thing before her and hopefully less prepared for.


"Going for the Kimura!" Caitlin gasps at Donna— and then she grabs the demon's hand by the finger. It's not much of a grip, except that she's got her biceps braced under the demon's shoulder, and has all the leverage of her powerful frame while the biting snake-monster has substantially less. Caitlin's up there in terms of physical strength, sure, but where she really excels at is /leverage/.

And she uses all the strength she has to break the demon's wrist. She slithers up its side as Donna reels and grapples, eschewing her fists to go for a more complex hold on the monster's broken arm. Her legs wrap around its neck, ankles hooking, and she bends the arm into a figure-four lock, continuing her attempts to break every bone or joint she can.

And just because she can, just for a moment, she releases her hands— keeping that deathhold with her legs so Donna can continue delivering her firmest hits, free of those fangs— and draws her heavy plasma pistol from her belt. It takes just a half second to line the shot up, and she fires a single blooming ball of plasma that empties the entire charge cell in one go, aimed not at the biggun she and Donna are grappling— but attempting to blindside Y'Garon, duelling with Hal as he is.


Sligguth attempts backhand Caitlin when she goes for his wrist, using a hand to keep Donna pinned down. Then he roars again as Donna grabs his injured leg and twists it, tearing more tendons and muscles. It does not quite break, but the lizardman releases the Amazon to try to roll away, to free his injured leg, to save his wrist too. He can heal fast, but needs a few seconds.

Y'Garon receives Hal charge, trying to stop the mace with his dagger. The shoulder charge still sends him flying, though, and he crashes on a wall, leaving a man-sized indentation and falling to a knee with a pained grunt. "Strong," he spits, "fine," he stands, shifting shapes. The old man becomes a fat, eight foot tall demon with long ram horns, goat legs and ape-like long arms. Then he reaches for Hal, trying to grab his neck and stab with the dagger.

Then the comet surface begins glowing, dull grey replaced by sunlight gold. Y'Garon freezes, startled. A plasma bolt his him on the head and he scrambles back, stunned. Sluggoth's snake eyes open wide. "No… wait. NOOO!" He falls down, shaking.

"NO FATHER, PLEASE WE CAN STILL DEFEAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

He splits open, explodes - ReAlItY tEaRs OpEn.

The demon comet cracks, fissures appearing on the crystal.

Reality rends harder, a huge snake head tears open, then another, and a third. Sligguth scream ends. Set arises. Four, five, six, seven snake heads. Set is an hydra-snake two hundred yards long.

Y'Garon… runs away, terrified.

Metron braces on his chair, suddenly wondering if it can protect him from THAT.

The Wall looms over then all, it is the whole sky.


As she felt the demon attempt to throw her off, Donna, having done everything she could do to its leg, released it, flying back, but quickly using her flight to draw herself to a halt, before she took a moment to survey the damage. She was not in the visual range of the demon attacking Hal, and so, seeing the demon she and the redhead were fighting moving to retreat, darted over to Hal, only to nearly collide with a snakehead as it darted down to lay waste to both demons, figuratively, as one ran, and literally as one simple exploded. Second verse, same as the first. Damnit.


Cait's down.

Demons, sure. Monsters. Darkseid, even. If she can see it or get a hand on it, Caitlin can and will fight it. But this— this is something that is just too much. It's too much of everything, too much of the mind-defying Source Wall, too much time with gods and monsters and demons, and now a seven-headed monster puissant with deific rage and cosmic power, is clawing out of reality and Caitlin

just

can't

take it.

As reality breaks and the powers are unleashed, she just sprawls on the ground screaming, eyes screwed shut, hands over her ears, trying to shut out the sensation of the universe going a bit wonky around her.


The power, burst, and just strange feeling shakes the Goddess of Lakes to her core. She knows what is happening and nearly falters in her pushing at the spell but then she closes her eyes tighter, clenches her fist and then begins to chant louder and louder and louder. It's on the third repetition that she pulls her hand back, whips it open and then slams her palm right into the prison itself while declaring the last word of the spell loud. The Gaelic word for release bursting from her lips. Set be damned…


Donna is torn, nearly in two, as she hears Cait screaming, and looks to the young woman. Half of her wanted to immediately rush to Caitlin to help her, and yet, such a terrible choice, as she could not not do what she could to fight the god which had come down from the heavens to make the ship and the comet his plaything. And in the end, whatever choice she made, would be ill. And when the choice came, it was another nail in the coffin of the difference between the sisters, as Donna made her choice, and accepted that she might be damned for it, as she moved to engage Set, trying to put herself between the god and the downed Fairchild, her voice rising, projecting. She did not know where Vivienne was, or if she would be able to hear her, but she called regardless, "Lady! Caitlin needs you!"


The undead destroyed, the Asgardians run back to their ship, seeing the demon comet is also cracking and shattering under their feet. The arrival of the Elder God of Destruction is received with fatalistic equanimity. There is a seat in Valhalla for them, after all. And Thor is already hurling lightning at the monstrous snake.

Less optimistic is Y'Garon, who manages to create a portal to the hell realms and jump into it as the citadel crumbles around him.

Then Atum bursts free from the comet. Eight feet tall of glowing glory, he immediately attacks Set with bolts of sunfire that hit like nuclear bombs, shattering scales and burning the Elder God flesh.

It is not enough.

Set roars, one of his heads diving to devour the sun god. Atum grows sixty feet tall in an instant, bating the snake head away. Three more come, he grabs one, blasting fire from his eyes to another, punches away the third. Yet another head bites him on the shoulder, and another vomits darkness on his head. Atum screams, recoiling in obvious agony.

Set coils around him.

The seventh head takes Thor's lighting as if was nothing, and spits lava against the Bilskirnir. Only Donna's charge saves the ship, making the Elder God head move a few inches. Yet it is obvious Set is too powerful, they can't win a physical confrontation with the Old One.


Donna moved, ducking and weaving as she tried to avoid the battling gods, the snakeheads, the destruction it was causing. And poor Caitlin, still on the ground. Behind her, to her right, just over her shoulder, unbidden, the Orb manifested itself, waking from the long rest it had taken in the aftermath of its first encounter with the God of Death. Donna did not see it. But she felt it. It was bound to her and she to it, though she was not its true master. "Help me!" Despite the volume of the cry, Donna did not seem to be speaking to any of them. But the Orb responded, growing larger, a face, for a moment, reflected in it, though whatever words it spoke did not hit the ears of anyone but Donna. But Donna did respond, and she did not attack Set again. Instead, she reached back, grasping the orb from the air and pulling it to her chest. As she did so, the comet began to move, once again heading towards that terrible final destination, "Atum! Hal! Help me! Throw him off!" And the only way for him to go would be back, in the direction they were now going, quickly picking up speed.


Stumbling back, she stares for a moment as Atum walks by. She watches him and then smiles a little as she raises up and then flows through the field of battle toward Set. She notes Donna's actions and seems inclined to agree. She whips her hand out and attempts to catch one of Set's heads and then another, and another. Each whip of water going forth from her to try to claim a neck to wrap around.


Caitlin's on her feet and moving. There's an eerie calm on her features, slack and lacking any emotion aside from a strangely intense focus. She zeroes her eyes in on a serpent-head attempting to chew on a mast, to hold the ship fast or draw it into the Source Wall.

Caitlin picks up a heavy spear. It's a true Asgardian weapon, enchanted for power and strength. She breaks into an explosive sprint with so much force under her feat that the enchanted wood groans in protest. Bracing the spear with both hands, she rushes at the head nearest her and aims the blade directly into an eye socket. It sinks up to her fist, and she braces her hand on Set's skull and drives the eight-food weapon as deep as she can, putting her whole body into the motion and driving from the hips until her shoulder is buried in the monster's punctured eye socket.


Hal is about to call out in a victory shout of his own when Y'Garon teleports away only to witness the mother of all monsters, he really wishes he had an acorn to throw. Picking himself up from the ground with a grunt he hears Donna's call for aid and bolsters enough of his remaining willpower reserves to join her in that press. Flying fast and hard to come to a slam of his own, the jolt through his body felt and around him, a massive green version of himself forms up, only geared out like a football player and six times the size of Jordan. Emerald Light construct of a titanic human to join Set and Atum's struggle, to aid his teammates as he gives his own final exhaustive and depleting PUSH.


Atum. Help me.

Not many ask Atum help. Not even the other gods. Because he rarely gives any. He is billions of years old, mightier than the strongest Skyfather, far above the petty squabbles of the young gods, much less the mortals.

But this time the young gods and the mortals came to help him. No one had come to help him /ever/.

** NO **

Atum does not throw Set off. It is unlikely he could, anyway. Instead he speaks to the minds of the League.

** I am old and I am tired. I wanted Osiris to take my place. I want Horus to take my place. He is not ready to face monsters as this one. But I will win him the time to grow **

Then on a booming voice. "YOU WISH ME DEAD, OH BROTHER OF MY MOTHER? THEN COME. WATCH THE SUN INVICTUS DIE. COME WITH ME! BE THIS THE END TO OUR ETERNAL STRUGGLE."

The Orb is already moving the remains of the demon comet towards the wall. Giant Hall pulls. Atum pushes, jumps. Set recoils, rivers of water rebel against him, the first God of Waters. And an uru-tipped spear sinks deep into one of his eyes.

The Elder God falters for a second, and Atum's hand reaches out, and touches the Source Wall.

There is a flash of light of unbearable brightness. And a scream of rage that brands the soul of all of those who hears it forever.

Even Metron on his Mobius chair. Him too.

The universe blinks. For an instant everything goes black.

Then the heroes of the Justice League find themselves floating on space, just a few miles from the Wall, the battered Bilskirnir flying close to pick them up. Shards of golden glass all around them.

The Wall has two new prisoners: a planet-sized seven-headed snake, forever roaring in rage. And the slightly smaller golden figure of the Sun God, invincible even now, poised to fend off the snake even in eternal sleep.


And at the other side of the universe, on a small planet called Earth, the goddess sometimes called Lilith dons the all-powerful Serpent Crown to fend off the Spear of Destiny.

But the Crown is inert and the goddess Lilith dies among holy fire.


"We… won?" The battered Green Lantern questions space as he floats there. Flesh busted up, eye swollen, lip cut, lacerations along his body where visible as his uniform is rags. The ring barely flickering with energy enough to keep him from succumbing to vacuum. "Eat that Universe." He says with a lopsided smile then his eyes roll in to his head and Jordan slumps unconscious.


When the light fades and darkness returns, the Orb has gone with it, back to its rest, leaving Donna floating in space, every ounce of her strength and will spent. No, not every ounce, as she has strength enough to seek for her companions, Caitlin first, not knowing if the power of the gourds they ate would sustain her long enough to preserve her mortal body from the vacuum, reaching out to pull the younger woman close, to extend to her the protection of Donna's own armor. "Come, sister, the fight is done." And if Caitlin allows, then Hal, floating, unconscious, his face peaceful in a way she has never seen it, even bruised, even battered. The thought comes unbidden to her mind, 'He looks like the boy he will never be again.' And she flies herself and Caitlin over to gather up the unconscious Lantern, the three held together by more than simply Donna's last bit of strength, as they seek for the fourth, for the Lady.

There was no doubt that there would be peril ahead. There always was. But for now, they were together, and they were safe.


The Universe eats that.

All across the universe gods and demons and monsters pause and look at the sky. An Elder God has fallen. The wheel turns. Change is coming.

In the darkest Hell Mephisto shudders, then smiles, and plots how to fill this vacuum in the darkness.

Deep under Mount Wundagore dread Chthon turns and squirms in his stone prison, sending temblors across the Balkans. His brother has fallen. He is elated, he is scared.

In the holy metropolis of Heliopolis the Egyptian Gods feel in their bones and blood that their mighty ancestor is no longer among them. And Thoth stands from his throne of gold, summoning Horus to his presence.

But Darkseid was the closest. He sees what happened through the balcony at his palace. Them again. The heroes from Earth. And for the first time in three years the Dark Lord considers Earth again.

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