The Grand Finale
A white space unfolded around her, seeming almost boundless and pretty much empty in all directions. At what might tentatively be called the center of that whiteness, a woman - of the body-shape shared by the New Gods and the homo sapiens, her hair as red as her eyes and clothes - hung in the nothing.
Her attention was fixed on the handful of objects that also were suspended in this white - a handful of cubes and a pair of spheres, in an arrangement reminiscent of a solar system or a handful of disparate particles.
In the distance just a bit straight ahead of her, the space had generated a single sensory metaphor as a visual description for the pandimensional - a loose cloud of something like plasma, ever-changing in color and shape, and density as well. A multitude of green-glowing threads connected the blue-green thing to the left sphere of darkness and stars.
"What strange manner of space am I in?" wondered the goddess.
Everything about this place should have been impossible - space-continuums should not be tangible, one space should not contain others, and it was particularly paradoxical for an unbounded volume to appear so small - but it was real, nonetheless.
"Is this how space looks from outside?" wondered Rachel, finding herself curious to know this truth, a speculative frown forming on her face.
There appeared a certain, though strange, logic to it - atoms were contained within matter, matter floated in space, local space existed in this greater space. She was certain that whoever had created this realm had been quite, quite insane - of that, there could be no doubt, for madness of this sort could never naturally happen.
The red-head looked to one of the spaces, the cube at the left end of the little collection. What she wanted to acquire - be it knowledge about these other universes, something more tangible, or just something to fight - the goddess was not yet precisely sure; when she saw it, she would know.
Her pupils contracted minutely as her gaze focused on it.
A lagoon unfolded before her eyes, and an inflood of sunlight bathed the waters through the the opening in the roof of trees. In the waters, she observed a woman - brown-skinned, lean and shapely. She was not alone; a towering, tentacled creature was with this one, its quiet appendages wrapped around parts of her. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth slightly agape.
The red-head looked to another of them; another cube.
Inside it, there appeared to be a throne room, with no great amounts of furniture in it. A woman who lightly reminded the Greed Goddess of her mother sat upon the throne; a tentacled and green-hided eyeball floated next to her.
The red-haired god-princess focused her mind, extending her mind's ear into the room, "inry?" spoke the succubus queen.
What, or perhaps who, an 'inry' was, the Greed Goddess knew not.
"Truthfully spoken, I do not recall how Winry entered my social circle with precise detail," exposited Shuma-Gorath; his eye moved left, to meet the gaze of the red-haired spectator. She quirked an eyebrow, unsure if the creature was looking at her.
"What I recall is thus. Seven thousand years before today, I seized power over her plane," he related the story. "She was among the ones I took from her world to serve me. In her country, a land called Amestris, I even chanced upon another husband, a human man named Alex Louis Armstrong," he fell silent, as memories of others of his past lovers - Mar-vell the Life-Prince, Hsien-Ko the Death-Princess, Artrok, Gungnir, and all the others - came to the forefront of his mind.
Morrigan listened, a small and coy smile on her face.
The red-head decided that this was no longer fascinating to listen to, and withdrew her astral projection.
In another of the cubes, a great cityscape unfolded. Her irides continually shifted size as she examined the Infinite City. Surprise flashed onto her face, at the sheer diversity of the beings there - for every shape and every color of lifeform that she could dream up, there were people there to match that idea, and more.
The buildings there too were as varied - a violet quadruple-helix, silvery pyramids, a fortress of stone of crisp orange hues, a row of triangular buildings carved from what literally looked to be crystals, and more, all along a street of shining bronze and underneath a green-yellow sky and a bright sun. It was breathtaking, like no world she'd ever seen before.
"I would appreciate to be informed of your identity," a voice called to her. How she'd gotten here, Shuma-Gorath already knew - only a four-dimensional could do that.
She shot a look behind her with her mind's eye. It was just the green creature from before.
The Apokoliptian scoffed, without turning to look at Shuma-Gorath. "Stranger, such is not for your like to know, but you can make yourself useful by providing I with information. Is this bizarre space of your forging?"
"Indeed," replied the Chaos Lord, moderately genial.
It then occurred to the lady of avarice that she couldn't read this being's thoughts. She turned, scowling. "What are you, that you can and would make a space such as this?"
The archfiend thought this amusing.
"There are quite many ways to explain the what of myself, but the who is more briefly told," he exposited. "I am Shuma-Gorath Aensland, husband to Morrigan Aensland, and a most seasoned magician."
Rachel felt inclined at laugh at that; the way he spoke, he seemed to think being this married to this 'Morrigan' character a mark of personal honor.
A thought occurred to her.
"If this mortal has brought this about, then has it..." she shot him a glare. "Are you then also responsible for the Fifth World losing access to divine science decades ago, when the structure of space was reinforced?"
He supposed he was; what precisely she defined 'divine science' as eluded him, though he inferred it to mean New God technology. "Yes."
Shock mixed with outrage came over her; she hadn't expected him to admit it so directly. Because of him, they had been robbed of celestial devices - Boom Tubes, Worlogogs, Mother Boxes and Father Boxes, Space-Breakers - near the heart of New God society, and rendered nothing more than mortals.
"Then my proposition is as follows," voiced the Apokoliptian, her tone a tight sneer. "What you have done to the Fifth World's plane, I will correct for you. Afterwards, you will refrain from tampering with our space and physical laws forevermore, as you have no right to do," she paused for a moment, to punctuate that statement with a sustained glare.
Though the thought galled her, from what she knew of negotiation, she'd have to... give the mortal something! Her! A deity, make concessions to a mortal!
"In exchange for that," she continued, sounding reluctant to even speak, "we, the gods of Apokolips, shall take no action to conquer or disrupt any aspect of these other universes. What do you say to that?"
It was hardly unreasonable - their plane was theirs to do with as they pleased, above everyone else's - but given what Shuma-Gorath knew of the Apokolips pantheon, they would likely not do anything good.
The more Rachel looked upon him, the more she gained clarity of her purpose for being: To be the Fifth World's defense mechanism against one such as him, to mend the all-undermining harm he'd caused the divine.
"Reasonable though you speak, I see no reason why I should even consider it," answered Shuma-Gorath. Displeasure flashed onto her face. "You ask of me only to allow you to disrupt the order of my creation," now he was glad she didn't know of him; the irony of the Chaos Lord championing unwavering order and structure was grand indeed, "with only the promise of your lot refraining to do so more as incentive. Nonetheless, I shall allow it to stand."
She grinned. "A wise decision," she then turned to the gallery of realms.
"Your plane would be the one that is assimilating the rest of the Omniverse," informed Shuma-Gorath, flatly. He watched with a curious eye, as she did it.
Her hand reached out to touch the orb of umbral voids and starlight, and as it began to shift and shine, the green-hided demon understood - her power as an Apokolips god was, had to be, that she could change the strength of reality's structure; in terms of the classic textile metaphor, to weave the fabric of space be woven looser or tighter as she wished it. That, he thought, marked this project as a partial success as much as the continued existence of the Omniverse did.
Rachel's eyes examined the green-gray hazy thing; the meaning of 'omniverse', she inferred from its etymology.
Wordlessly, inwardly pleased with the triumph of her improvised plan, the four-dimensional woman shifted into her space of origin.
All around her, there was now a wide room with slate-grey walls. At the left end, behind her, a small crowd of nine men and woman were gathered, all on a single row. At the other end of the room, there were five people.
One was a man with craggy grey skin, dressed in green garments that left his prominently muscular arms and legs uncovered, and accentuated his stocky build; his arms were folded behind his back. Another was a woman of slender proportions, attired in a body-covering suit colored predominantly red and gold, with hair of a fire-like red and an insignia like a golden bird over her ample chest.
Another was a man, with a raven-colored mane like a lion's framing his head, who was nothing if not powerfully built.
The fourth was another man, dressed in a fuchsia robe, with only his face and greasy hair visible of him.
The fifth and last was a woman, tall and muscular, and attired in tri-colore armor.
The goddess of avarice moved to bow before the ruler-divinities and her brother, who all looked curiously at her.
"I bring fortuitous news, family of mine," she spoke to the three. "I have stepped beyond the confines of this reality, and there, I gained new knowledge and a unique opportunity to empower the gods. Our Mother Boxes and the Worlogogs should now work once more."
Darkseid hmmed. "If indeed the divine map, no matter its function as the divine hourglass, works once more, then she is truly proving to be a more reliable child than Grayven ever was," now there was a name Dark Phoenix had not heard in ages.
Desaad, knowing the unshared desire of his god-sovereigns, began walking towards the door. He managed only a few steps before hearing the princess' voice, and her instruction to remain.
"I also," she continued to say, "concretely determined the existence of other planes beyond this one, ripe for the conquest. Thus, I advocate that we immediately depart to do this."
Phoenix responded with just a knowing smile. "Daughter, have we truly not taught you better in these past seventeen years?"
Rachel looked almost befuddled. Darkseid spoke before she could.
"Your mother speaks true," he informed her. "I will not deny that there is a sense of appeal and intrigue to the idea of being a conqueror of universes, but that goal is a foolish one."
The lady of Greed stood up, the look on her asking for elaboration in no uncertain terms.
"Save by means of creating some avatar to do so, one person cannot exist in two domains at once and thus not manage them optimally," elaborated Darkseid. "This holds true even for such as we, arch-gods, and from that is the door for a possible usurpation opened. Thus, it has forever been my preference to rule over just one dominion, be it a planet or a universe."
"If that is what you believe best, father," voiced Rachel, a playful note to her voice, "I will abide by that. However, I have a specific planet in mind for our next conquest," she finished, consciously affecting a dramatic pause.
"Dear," replied Dark Phoenix, lightly amused by the girl's whimsy, "do not play at crypticism."
"The planet that mother was born on," stated Rachel. Nobody present really looked all that surprised to hear that. Kalibak, at most, looked a bit curious. "If best comes to pass, we should leave that world with a handful of new minions."
"You need scarcely convince us," replied Darkseid, pleasantly, as Rachel turned around, to the nine.
Rachel couldn't help... odd at heart, in looking at them. She was only going to ask them to do their duty, and follow her into war; why did that perturb her?
The whole haphazard gang - Koriand'r, Donna, Erza, Yoko, Harriet, Scott, Agogg, Sar, Doul - all met her gaze, and smiled (some, more than others) to Rachel.
"Well, I will not prevaricate, my concubines and warriors, and dare I say, friends, from foreign worlds," opened the goddess, bashfully.
"I do not expect that the Earth will be particularly challenging to conquer, but I will not force anyone among you, my Furies and Marauders, to help us destroy the planet that five of you have once helped to defend and save. The decision to follow me is your own."
Each of the nine reacted differently - Scott with several blinking eyes, Yoko with uncertainty and a cock of her head, Donna with a knowing smile, Doul's expression and posture gave away how little he cared; Rachel began to mentally fret, hoping that she hadn't said anything unpleasant.
The truck-sized dragon was the one who answered. "Mistress," voiced the female wyvern, "I think that we are all going to follow you."
A comfortable silence descended. Rachel smiled. Darkseid spoke up.
"And well you all should, for was it not by us that you were all given immortality, to forevermore savor the joys of living?" the tyranny-god's voice brooked no argument.
In short order, Desaad had fetched them a Father Box; Dark Phoenix had been the one to open the Boom Tube, for it was an astral construct, and her memory of her birth-planet - faint though they were - and objective to return were the very things that it had needed to forge a bridge into that universe and that Earth's local region of three-dimensional space.
Like so, they bridged a span beyond comprehension - not merely the gap and barriers which divided one plane of reality from others, no; their jaunt through the Boom Tube took them to another cluster of universes, one familiar only one among them all.
As they emerged, they all quickly observed that they had emerged into some manner of grassland, without any humans or buildings anywhere in the vicinity, with the local sun high in the sky.
"What now?" voiced Rachel, looking uncertainly to her parents.
"That is what you should inform us and your minions," informed Darkseid. "This invasion is, after all, your idea and your initiative, and victory cannot be as readily grasped if your course is unclear nor if if you falter on the path you set yourself. Now, stride proudly forth as the goddess you are and lay the mortals low," he commanded her.
"Yes, father," smiled the teen. After a moment's contemplation, she spoke, "yes, I see now the path to my victory. Mother, I ask you to aid me now."
"To what end?"
"The enthrallment of every hero upon this planet. We shall start with this land."
"Let it be done, then."
"Indeed," Darkseid's voice sounded in their minds. The goddess-princess looked blankly at him. "Daughter, though both you and Phoenix indeed surpass me in prowess as well as experience when it comes to psychic powers, I am not without certain gifts in that field. Have you ever been told about my battle with the Legion of Superheroes?"
"I have," the teen was practically squealing with fangirl glee. "It still amazes me that you could enthrall so many at once."
Darkseid dismissed it. Then, the trio set about the task.
The tidal wave of psionic might swept unseen by all across America, detected only by a few - the psychics residing at Xavier's school, Doctor Strange in Greenwich, Martian Manhunter aboard the JLA's satellite, Lilith Clay on her walk down Key West's beach. Its physical effects were more readily felt.
In Keystone City, Wally West and Jay Garrick charged out of his house, much to Linda's surprise, and hit eleven-hundred per hour after the first moments of their jog. On the way, the younger speedster grabbed Jakeem Williams from outside Wilson High, their magical auras shielding them and him from the stresses of superhuman speed, before they reached three-thousand an hour on their run to the prairie in South Dakota.
In San Francisco, the eyes of Bart Allen went blank a moment before he ran to grab Superboy and Terra, and then out of Titans Tower to reach the same destination as his fellow SF-empowered men.
Over in the Westchester region of New York, a number of colorful characters began to exit the school. Some flew off, as Storm and Archangel did, while Kurt made his way away with a series of jumps and brimstone-smoke clouds, though most simply walked out. In separate places, Jean and Charles were trying to undo the enthralling that Scott and Erik had both experienced, by means of both impassioned pleas and their psychic abilities. Outside the main building, Rachel was doing the same for Kitty.
In El Paso, Power Girl and Blue Beetle had been fighting Giganta before they'd flown off and left a befuddled supervillainess and public behind. In Manhattan, Captain Marvel exited the Avengers mansion in the company of Iron Man. Over in Fawcett City, a trio of young people were struck by supernatural lightning, and a trio of demi-gods flew away. From the Baxter Building, a humanoid fire flew out a closed window alongside a woman in a translucent telekinetically-projected sphere.
In many other regions of the continent, the heroes began to move towards the part of South Dakota where they were beckoned to go by the psionic command of the three gods.
Over the moments that followed, a gallery of the fastest heroes - the Flashes, three Kryptonians, Jesse Quick, Quicksilver, - in the United States were assembled upon the field; as the clock ticked one second forward, the four speedsters raced off again, a gust left behind in Pietro's.
Kalibak inspected the seven superheroes, an appreciative glint in his eyes at Superboy. A small part of him wondered uneasily what they might think of him if they were to know that he chose warrior-concubines by their physical traits - it was petty, and he knew it, but this one would suitably fill the harem's missing slot for a man with black hair and pink-white - as much as personalities and abilities.
"I share your criteria, brother," his sister's voice sounded in his mind, ever playful and amused.
"And I, Kalibak, see no reason why you should concern or restrain yourself with such trivialities," intoned Phoenix mentally, sounding both amused and displeased. "We are the pantheon of evil, the living power of malevolence that creates all evil and taints all things noble, or has this truth slipped your mind?"
It hadn't; he decided to not contemplate the issue any further. Rachel scowled.
"Your concentration is required," came the mental voice of Darkseid, to his wife and daughter, lightly chiding. The assemblage of controlled heroes was expanded, by Jay Garrick swooping in and dropping a green-skinned young woman off before he moved back out at a speed of eleven-hundred miles per minute.
Kalibak's gaze fixed on Conner. Without moving to face them, he spoke to his family, "Release this one, for I intend to confer."
In his eyes, Kalibak observed the tell-tale signs of consciousness becoming clear.
"Lord Kalibak," he heard the airy voice of the Poisoner, "will my services or Starfire's be required in translating this man's language?" a quick telepathic missive informed him otherwise - through some cosmic coincidence, earthly english and the spoken language of the New Gods were more alike than almost any other two languages in the cosmos, though the similarities were not complete; they had no word for Worlogog, nor concepts to accurately capture what it or a Mother Box was.
Alarmed surprise flashed onto the half-Kryptonian's face, along with a smirk. "Kalibak?" now, he had a chance for payback.
"Indeed," he folded his arms. "This is who I am, earthling, but know this," his voice was almost mirthful to Conner's ear, "I am not the same Kalibak that you might well have crossed paths and traded blows with, as I am certain my choice of words makes adequately clear."
This Kalibak was the sort of villain who pretended they knew what good manners were, it seemed to Superboy. "So, why're you here?" Conner skimmed the crowd behind Kalibak, unease growing in him at the sights of Darkseid and Dark Phoenix.
"Apart, those two are a cosmic threat of the worst kind," that, Conner knew for a fact. He didn't want to know what they were capable of doing, together; he needed to get out of here, get everybody - JLA, Avengers, X-Men, Teen Titans, Fantastic Four, Doom Patrol, - and start praying it was enough.
"How strange he should think precisely thus," the voice of Dark Phoenix rang in Kalibak mind, amused, "when we are the only gods that there here are to pray to."
"We are here to end your world and civilization," informed Kalibak. Ignoring the shock on his face, he went on, "However, I have an offer to make you in relation to that, and it is one that I believe you will appreciate. Come with us," he held his hand out, for the other to accept.
"As one of my Male Marauders, you will have immortality, and every material good that you might desire will be provided you, and we shall be eternal and true friends for you as we roam the stars," asserted the God of Lust. "I recognize, of course, that merely my words alone offer little proof of my good will, so, Yoko, Agogg," he called out, still without moving to look at them, "I ask of ye, speak your minds now to this one."
Agogg was only happy to comply with the wishes of his prince. "Well you can trust in the words of Kalibak, Earthman," his voice ran fuzzy, as he recalled recent memories of Kalibak - of facing him in battle to thrill the body and the soul, of a particularly destructive tryst between himself and him and Donna.
"Agogg speaks true," voiced Yoko. "I was once like you, an earthling seeking to defend my world and its people, almost one-hundred years ago, so your situation is a familiar one to both myself, Erza, Koriand'r, Donna and Scott," surprise flashed against over the half-Kryptonian's features at the mention of the familiar names.
Conner skimmed the area, immediately noticing those three; Cyclops surprised him most, with the plentitude of eyes - on his stomach, his face, his arms. He reminded himself to not analyze the situation, aware Jean was listening.
"Jean, you believe me?" the red-haired woman's voice filled his mind; it almost startled him just how different - cold disdain in every syllable - this Jean Grey sounded compared to the one he knew. "Curious. You seem to know me by a name I have long abandoned... perhaps this world's incarnation of I was too weak to strive towards the horizons which my astral might opened up for me? Yes, I suppose it is only that."
"Believe me, hero, when I say that a life as a servant and soldier of the Gods is a rewarding one," finished Yoko.
"I can only further affirm that sentiment," Erza voiced her assessment of the matter. "By the powers of Apokolips and the will of our Gods, the door was opened for us all to meet people that we would never have if we had continued to live on our own planets in our own universes, and know them as eternal friends."
"Now," Kalibak boomed, "you have heard from three of my allies. What say you, man of earth?"
"Like hell," spat Conner. "You think I'm seriously going to listen to your crazy brainwashed minions, after whatever you've done to Cyclops?" he flew off, appearing as only a dark blur to the gathered Apokoliptians.
"You have carried yourself well, my son,"the voice of Darkseid was nothing if not derisive. "You sought conference, and to place yourself on equal ground, with an enemy, during an invasion of his world. Now, the hero you attempted to sway to your side has taken advantage of your hesitation to flee, and in so doing, perhaps sown the seeds for this operation to become a bitter and laughable failure."
Kalibak stared quietly towards the enthralled heroes. "I recognize fully my folly, Father. I swear that once I see him again, I shall deliver his corpse to you."
"See that you do," instructed the Lord of Apokolips. "I shall be lenient and not administer any punishment, Kalibak, for you served me well by slaying Orion. Know merely this - that gift of mercy will suffice as all the favor that act has gained you from my side."
Now, Rachel understood what her brother had meant with what he'd so often told her. "Darkseid only loves his children as well as they serve his goals and desires. Grayven, wherever he now is, was a pathetic imitation and failure of our father, and now Kalibak is slipping from his good graces. I must be careful, lest I suffer their fate."
"I shall not fail you, Father," promised Rachel, eagerly, knowing how much it annoyed Kalibak to know that their father favored her. "I shall give you this planet, before this day is done."
Darkseid didn't answer, watching her with his typical deadpan look. "I do not doubt your intent, but the manner in which you approach this goal leaves something to be desired, daughter."
Rachel looked crestfallen. "In what way have I displeased you, Father?"
"You have displayed a very mortal misapprehension of size and distance," he informed her. "It well might be because of the ease by which we traverse reality, and reach foreign planets and galaxies, but a world is much larger than you believe it. To conquer every corner and every child of this planet by physical force, even such as an assemblage of all Earth's heroes, would either prove impossible or take weeks of unceasing work."
Wordlessly, Dark Phoenix bid her to follow them in astral projection. A small part of Rachel felt uneasy about that particular psionic technique, but decided to follow her mother's instruction.
It felt like nothing as much as opening her eyes all over again; her gaze skimmed the sight.
The void extended beyond them, never-ending and serene. The horizons of space were illuminated by stars beyond counting. Before her was a small sphere, hued primarily blue and adorned with white shapes that she didn't recognize.
As well, she observed her parents as present.
Her mother's hair was ablaze, the flames and tresses swept in every direction, as was much else of her - all silent burning and shining. Now, better than ever before, she understood why her mother was the Goddess of Fire and Life - she was like a sun to behold, and almost too bright for her to bear to look at. In contrast and comparison to her, father was himself a shining example of how power was to flaunted for all to see, albeit not in the same way as she.
"This is the way that a arch-deity conquers a planet," the voice of Darkseid echoed, something Phoenix recognized as an affectation. "From afar, in a form great enough to hold a world in one's hands, and with power enough to crush every living thing that one might rebuild however one desires."
Rachel knew what he might say next, something similar to 'take heed of this lesson, child'. Darkseid's stony eyebrows arched a smidge, uncertain if he was this predictable. Dark Phoenix conveyed a thought, a mild apology expressed in three words.
"I shall take my leave of you now," communed the slight-figured teen, her mind's eyes glancing at the globe. "I have business on the planet."
Her spirit left their company almost immediately she finished. Once she was in her body again, she ran, one wish in mind. The plain-lands dropped away from her gaze, and were replaced by the comely trappings of the Xavier Academy's main living room.
Over by the TV, the X-Woman who'd once hosted the Phoenix Force sat with Kitty, their foreheads. Immediately, she detected the astral presence of the new visitor, and hurried to sit up.
Close to the room's center, the princess of Apokolips shot a scowl at the other, looking her over.
"Come," commanded the goddess to the earthling, "your executioner awaits."
Rachel glared back; she didn't understand why an alternate-reality version of her wanted to kill her, but she wasn't going to take a death threat lightly.
"Can I at least ask why, first?" voiced the former Phoenix host.
The other's face began to gibber with rage, at the mere question. "YOU DARE?!" hollered the pissed-off deity. "You, mortal, are the bane of my existence, an affront to my sacred honor," every word was growled out, "and I have come to rid myself of the walking indignity that is you."
The X-Woman glanced uncertainly, mind reaching out only to find a barrier in the stranger's mind. "Either she's a psychic, very disciplined, or both." "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to have to upset you."
"Very well," the alien deity glowered. "I shall explain it in detail, so simply that even your feeble mortal mind can understand the matter. We two are born of the same mother, Dark Phoenix," disclosed Rachel. Surprise flashed on Rachel's face at the mention of her mother's possessed identity.
"Why she decided to, I know not, but she gave me the same name as you, and therein lies my shame," informed the extraterrestrial. "As long as you live, I will forever be just a reflection of you and all others, a mere potential life we might have lived. As a goddess, I deserve far better than that."
The mutant opened her mouth to speak. The other Rachel raced forward. To her ears and eyes, the external world now appeared so greatly slowed that nothing was happening. Only a thoroughly slurred fraction of a syllable escaped the other incarnation of her as the other incarnation of her ran.
Both of the X-Women were dealt blows - Rachel by a punch with so much force it ripped through her stomach, Kitty in and through the stomach too by the bloodied hand after the goddess had withdrawn it.
For a moment, the bits of broken mutant remained still in the air. The goddess breathed out. The blood and broken bone flew, while the two of them fell.
Rachel cast a glance at her handiwork, feeling pleased as punch at the death of the pretender to her name. An ill-natured laugh escaped her as Rachel strode towards Rachel.
For the better part of the twelve minutes, the daughter of Dark Phoenix and Darkseid stayed at the school. When she departed, she left a ruined heap of blood and flesh and broken bones and a crushed soul for Charles to find whenever he did.
She made a step forward, moving in the four-dimensional way that she could, and immediately went from Westchester to the grassland in South Dakota.
The first thing that she took notice of was the long row of heroes - "Quite a colorful bunch." - that stretched far, both to the left and the right.
"Has anything transpired here?" voiced Rachel, to them all.
It was Kalibak who answered, "Nothing unwelcome, Rachel. Perhaps you can help decide a matter," he gestured left. She followed his gaze, to behold a blonde woman in an attire of blue, red and gold. "The red in the blue suit is one of the earth-heroes called Captain Marvel, and I feel that she would make a good companion and Fury. However, there is another here who I find equally suitable for sharing many of Captain Marvel's traits," he pointed towards the far right end.
She looked that way, only spotting who she believed he meant after glancing past the first one-hundred-and-thirty. "Do you speak of the woman in the white with that extraordinary cleavage, brother? If, I wholeheartedly choose her," the coyness in her voice was almost tangible.
"I once attempted to acquire a Kryptonian for the Female Furies," spoke Darkseid to his son and daughter. Both looked curiously his way. "This was a pursuit I have long regarded as fruitless. It pleases me to know that you have realized that old idle goal of mine, daughter."
"Thank you, father," she beamed.
"Surely this does not surprise you," communed Phoenix. "She is our child, and well educated as well. It is only natural that any and every foe should fall before her."
"I will admit, it surprises me somewhat that the conquest of this planet has happened so readily," related Darkseid, "though I suppose that should be anything but a surprise. Individually, we have only grown much since last I tried, and by our shared life is our bolstered strength heightened many times over. Thus, we are the end of the universe, Dark Phoenix."
Dark Phoenix responded not with a telepathically-related word, but with a pleased smile. "Ever sweet, my love, to hear you speak thus. I find myself in the mood for unnecessary cruelty," the psychically-powerful goddess gave the assemblage her attention, a smirk gracing her face.
Power Girl raised her hands, gripping the throat of the Kryptonian girl who had been placed next to her. Neither compelled-assailant nor the victim offered any resistance, at least not any that could physically be seen. A deadened crack came soon from the teen's neck.
With only the same unemotional look on her face and only a complete lack of concern in her body language, the adult Kryptonian released the younger girl, and let her fall to the ground.
Dark Phoenix thought the act mildly amusing, though a touch bland for merely being the snapping of a neck. Darkseid telepathically relayed that, with the abundance of warriors here and the billions of souls yet waiting, there was endless opportunity for them to refine their prowess in the art and science of murder ahead.