Pantheon Comics #7:

"If Wishes Were Horses"

Digest by J. Pruitt, Hellgirl and Joe Grendel
Chapter One
by Joe Grendel

J Street.

Later.

Marital Bliss opens the box on her dresser (it used to be "their" dresser), and gets out a
badge, which gleams in the sunlight, pouring from a crystal ball on the dresser. (Her
tower has neither doors nor windows.) She pulls her hair back and binds it in a black
scrunchie. Then she pins the badge onto her uniform and walks back downstairs.

Barda meets her at the base of the stairs, her face drawn.

"You ready for this?"

Marital Bliss nods.

"He took the job. He died. Someone has to take over for him." She coughs, attempting to
clear a throat that's been dry for a week. All the moisture in her body seems to have been
cried away. "Someone has to protect J Street now that the Pantheon is dead."

Barda lays a massive hand on her friend's shoulder.

"You won't be alone. I'll be there, as will John Starr and his friends. Jeannie will help out,
my husband will be back soon and I think we can expect Jason Borelli back at any time."

Marital Bliss nods.

"Good. Even though we've got Nemesis locked up where he can't hurt anybody, the rest
of
his supervillains seem to have taken a real liking to J Street and what it can offer them.
The Pantheon may be dead, but life goes on."

***

Elsewhen.

The Pantheon and Minutemen awake, shaken by the blast.

"I told you to be careful, Joe," J'onn rumbles. "What happened?"

"Obviously," Grendel pulls himself up off his face, "The hyperwarp drive was more
damaged than I thought. We got sent somewhere." He frowns, sorting through his
feelings, trying to discover where they ended up.

kevrhon pulls himself to his feet, surveying the misty void. Concentrating, he holds out a
hand and shadowy images appear around it, coalescing into butterflies. He looks at
Grendel meaningfully.

Dom wipes her mouth, removing the cloudy residue of the "ground" she was laying on.

"Yuck," she spits, "I wish "

"NO, DON'T!" kevrhon leaps atop her, clapping his hand over her mouth. Cable 77
wrestles him off, preparing to punch him, before Grendel leaps upon him in turn.

"Enough!" Dom yells. "Break it up!"

Hatman, the Mighty Hank and AoAMimic break up the nascent brawl.

"What's going on here?" Amazon asks.

kevrhon and Grendel look at one another. They shrug and Grendel nods for kevrhon to
speak.

"Well, it's like this: This dimension is psycho-active in nature. It responds to our
thoughts. I pulled up those butterflies out of my imagination. They were just phantoms,
unreal, but if what I think is true "

"It is," Grendel cuts in. "This is the realm genies draw their power from. A properly
worded wish can come true here."

Dom throws her head back, laughing.

"Well! Good thing you shut me up. Otherwise, I'd have no mouth now."

The Scarlet Rob rubs his chin, considering this.

"Soooo, wishes come true here?"

kevrhon concentrates on a spell for a moment, and waves TSRob into silence.

"Yes. But there are restrictions. Your wish can only affect yourself. You couldn't wish that
Amazon was married to you and madly in love with you, unless she wished the same
thing. More importantly, you only get one wish."

OzBat and the Jester laugh simultaneously and rub their hands together.
"This is gonna be gooood!"

The Joe Gallaghers look at one another.

"Do we each get one?"

kevrhon shakes his head.

"Sorry. One per personality, no matter how split it may be."

Hatman crosses his arms and looks at the Mighty Hank!

"So, big guy, what's your wish going to be?"

"I know not, friend Hat, I know not."

Chapter Two: The return of a man called Borelli

by Thunderbolt

A brightly glowing green meteor descended through the skies over Washington, DC. It
flickered briefly and winked out, negotiating the dimensional vortex with the ease of one
long practiced in such matters odd behavior indeed, for a meteor.

This, however, was no ordinary meteor. Jason Borelli, the Green Lantern mayor of J
Street, dropped gracefully to the sidewalk in front of Grendel's Pond Bar and Grill. Still
basking in the glory of his recent home turf victory, Borelli opened the door with a
flourish and yelled, "Hey, guys, guess wha"

Borelli paused. Something was wrong. The bar was empty. It was NEVER like this.
Where could everybody be?

"Jason."

"Wha-" Borelli spun around, ring at the ready. He locked eyes with Barda. "Barda?
What's wrong? Where is everybody?"

"It's a long story, Jason," Barda said sadly. "I think you'd better sit down."

Chapter Three:
Of course, you realize that theres a catch
by Hatman

A huge grin slowly spreads itself across Hatman's face, and a gleam that Hank has rarely
seen before comes into his eyes.
"Well, I know exactly what I'm going for!"

Hank looks at him fondly for a moment, and is about to open his mouth to ask "What?"
when suddenly his face falls.

"Oh no, Hat. No. Not her. Not again!"

Hatman nods and grabs his friend's arms in excitement.

"Don't you see, Hank! I can get it right, this time! I can do everything I wanted to do, but
couldn't!" He swallows once, hard, a thin film of tears clouding over his eyes. "Hank, this
time she can really be mine!"

"Hey, here's an idea," Regina says to Fate, ignoring Hat and Hank's conversation. "Why
don't we all just wish for this place, I guess to send us home?"

"My thoughts exactly," kevrhon nods. "The less time we spend in this dimension, the
better."

"Hey, hey, hey!" the Jester laughs. "Let's not be too hasty, here! There'll be plenty of time
for that! We can go home whenever we want, right?"

"Theoretically," Fate says. "But--"

"Hey, then I say we have a little fun with this, first! I, for one, would lo-o-o-o-o-o-ve to
find out what it'd really be like to be granted my heart's desire!"

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Grendel says ominously. "Trust me."

"Yeah, well, 'scuze me Mr. Dimension-Hopping Grouch, but I'd kinda like to find that out
for myself." The Jester grins and cracks his knuckles. "So I say we chill out here for oh,
say, a couple days and see what we can come up with."

Fate shakes his head frantically.

"No, no! Look, you're missing the point! There's a certain amount of danger inherent in-"

"Oh, kev, what could be the harm?" A'nne says, grinning. "After what we just went
through in that horrible warehouse, we could all use a little rest and recreation. What
better place than in a realm where dreams come true?" She looks coyly at J'onn. "I know
what
I'm wishing for "

J'onn smiles shyly, his green cheeks going a slight shade of scarlet.
"Um, Fate," he says, still looking into A'nne's eyes. "I know I'm usually the voice of
reason in situations like this, but A'nne does have a point!"

"Guuuh!" Fate says, slapping a hand over his eye-holes. "Folks, I know it's tempting, but
you've got to listen to me, here! You can't expect to go gallivanting about, living out your
greatest fantasy, without it having serious repercussions! Now, I think the best thing we
can do is get the heck out of here before one of the Pantheonaires makes his"

And then suddenly there is puff of smoke and the sound of a balloon popping. The
Pantheon spins around just in time to see Hatman disappear.

"Oh, great," Fate says flatly. "I knew it would be him. I knew it!"

The Pantheon and the Minutemen stare at the spot where Hatman once stood. Hank looks
back at them, sadly.

"Wow!" Mr Miracle says. "Where'd he go?"

"What'd he wish for?" redricky asks.

Hank heaves a heavy sigh.

"He's gone to recapture the greatest love of his life," he says, "in the only way he knows
how."

"Figures," Grendel says bitterly. "A romantic fool to the end."

Everyone blinks at this. Slowly, one by one, all eyes turn to gail.

"What?" gail snaps defensively.

"No, no, not gail," Hank says. "There was another. Before her. Another Canadian. Well, I
don't know that you'd call her a super hero exactly. Hat fell for her pretty hard but he
never won her."

Aquaman continues to look at gail.

"Sounds like a pattern, for him."

"WHAT?" gail shouts. "Would everyone stop looking at me like that?"

"In fact," Hank smiles faintly, "He's probably gone back to the day that I first met him.
The day we both first met her."

"Well, bully for him," Fate groans. "I just hope that whatever fantasy he's cooked up
doesn't wind up destroying us all!"
The Pantheon turns away, some wondering about the subtle-yet-ominous hints Fate keeps
dropping, others gleefully contemplating wishes of their own. Aquaman sidles up to Hank
and puts his arm around the Asgaardian.

"So where did Hat go, exactly?"

"Toronto, about two years ago. We were both still pretty new at the super-hero game then
though Hat had been at it a little bit longer than I had." He grinned. "Did I ever tell you
about the super hero internship program?"

Chapter Four: Color me ticked

by Jason

J Street

"STUPID!"

Jason's hand collided with the wall, banging it mercilessly.

"I should have been there! My power could've saved them. Now they're gone. All of
them."

Tears came down Jason's face.

"Jason, they'll live. I know they will. Remember the time you found out Hank got
whacked?"

"Yeah," sobbed Jason, frying his eyes. "I ended up rescuing him from limbo."

"And remember J'onn, and everybody thinking he got whacked by Fanboy?"

"Maybe you're right, Barda. Of course, we got another problem."

"Don't tell me another lame villain is rearing its ugly head, and it's a copy of one of the
Pantheon."

"Um yeah, that too. But on my way back, I stopped to get the paper, and I saw this."

Jason reached into his ever-present bookbag. Brushing aside his lantern, he pulled out a
copy of the New York Daily News.

"What's this?"

"A review. For this book."

Jason reached into the bag once more. He pulled out a book.

PANTHEON COLORS
by Anonymous

On the cover was a donkey, wearing a hat, with a peach in its mouth.

"You mean?"

"Yep. Somebody wrote an unflattering account on the election. And I think somebody on
the Pantheon did it."

Barda looked at Jason, eyebrows raised.

"IT WASN'T ME!"

"I didn't say anything."

Chapter Five: The Intern Cometh

by Hatman

An Imaginary Version of Toronto,

Set in an imaginary version of June, 1994
Pearson International Airport, Gate 16

A puff of smoke, the sound of a balloon popping and suddenly Hank and the rest of the
Pantheon disappeared around him to be replaced by the waiting lounge of Gate 16.

Stephen blinked and shook his head, disoriented for a second but a slow grin spread over
his features as he realized where he was, and when. He glanced over to the Arrival
monitors on his right, and double-checked the date and time. His grin spread a little bit
wider.

It had worked! Just as Fate said it would! His wish had really come true!

Or at least part of it had.

He was contemplating ducking into a men's room or a phone booth, to rip open his shirt
and check to see if the other part had been fulfilled as well, when a flat tone sounded
through the over-head speakers, announcing the arrival of Flight 116, an hour and a half
late. It was the flight he'd been waiting for that day. The day his intern was supposed to
show up, to begin three months of extended training. Stephen's heart leapt into his throat
as he anticipated the moment when he'd step off the plane. It was a meeting he'd
remember, always. Though he knew he'd been scowling in annoyance the first time he'd
done this, Stephen couldn't help the grin that spread out over his face as he watched the
ramp expectantly. Sure enough, thirty seconds later, around the corner came a Mighty
Norse Godling, his shock of white hair towering over the rest of the crowd. He looked
extremely nervous.

And why not? Stephen thought. He's about to meet a living legend, his world's greatest
hero. Or at least he thinks he is

Stephen watched as Hank put down his suitcases and looked slowly around the lounge, a
lost expression on his face. Though he wanted to rush over and catch Hank in a Mighty
bear hug, instead Stephen made a great show of looking frantically around the lounge
himself, as if he were looking for someone else. This was the way it had been two years
ago, and the way he wanted it now. He didn't want a single moment of this meeting to
change.

Eventually, the lounge began to clear out as other travelers were picked up by family and
friends. Pretty soon, only Hank and Stephen stood in the lounge, as the flight crew began
disembarking from the plane. Hank looked around uncomfortably, sweating profusely,
then picked up his suitcases and headed for the Information Desk. Stephen took that as
his cue to follow. They arrived at the desk at exactly the same time. The woman behind
the counter looked at them expectantly.

"Um, pardon me, maiden fair," Hank began. "I was wondering "

"Uh, 'scuze me, pal," Stephen broke in, as he had two years ago. "But I was here first."

It was a lie, Stephen knew now. Hank had beat him to the counter by a good 30 seconds.
He probably had back then, too, but Stephen had been in a hurry.

Hank blinked at him.

"Oh," said the gentle giant. "Um, pardon me, sir. Verily I did not mean to interrupt."

"Yeah, thanks, don't worry about it." Stephen barely gave him a second glance as he
turned to the clerk. "'Scuze me, but I was expecting someone to get off that plane Flight
116 but they haven't arrived. I was wondering if you could tell me if he came in on an
earlier flight, or something?"

The clerk nodded at him.

"Name, please?"

"Um," Stephen looked around him, feigning embarrassment, and dropped his voice.
"Spontaneous Combustion Lad."

Both the clerk and Hank looked at him blankly.

Two years ago, Stephen had blushed slightly in embarrassment. This time he only smiled
fondly.

"Uh, he's with the Super-Hero Internship Program," he explained, then turned to look at
Hank expectantly.

He caught Hank's expression of surprise and bemusement.

"Od's blood! I, too, am participating in yon program!" Hank grasped Stephen's hand and
began to pump it vigorously. Stephen flinched in spite of himself the last time they'd done
this, Hank had nearly crushed his bones to powder but this time he barely felt the
pressure of Hank's handshake at all.

He flushed slightly. It was a good sign

"Greetings!" Hank said jovially. "I am The Mighty Hank!"

"Uh, greetings yourself, Mr., uh, Hank," Stephen recited, fighting to keep the laughter out
of his voice. He'd been so annoyed the first time they'd gone through this, that he'd
missed how amusing it all was. "Uh, I wasn't aware that there was going to be more than
one intern in town. I thought the regulations stipulated only one intern per city, per three-
month-period."

"To minimize confusion?" the clerk asked.

"To minimize property damage," Stephen answered back. "Some of these kids don't
exactly have it on the ball, yet." Stephen looked at Hank. "So who's your mentor going to
be? There's not all that many heroes based in Toronto."

"Ah," Hank grinned proudly, producing a white index card from the folds of his costume.
"Verily, I got the pick of the litter I hath been pegged to learn at the hand of Mighty Titan,
hero extraordinaire!"

Stephen beat down the smile that was playing across his lips, turned it into the grimace
he'd originally worn.

"Mighty Titan?" he said, putting just enough confusion into his voice. "But he's not based
in Canada!"

Hank shrugged.

"I just got on the plane the S.H.I.P. people put me on. Methinks this may only be a stop-
over."

"Ah," Stephen said. He turned to look at the clerk expectantly. "Yes?"

"Um, scuze me, sir," the clerk broke in, looking up from her computer terminal. She
paused a moment Stephen mentally kicked himself for jumping the gun then continued.
"It appears that Mr. Combustion Lad didn't make his flight. There's a notation in his file
about his igniting an Airport Lounge in Texas. Apparently he won't be making the
Internship Program."

"Oh."

"Though, they are trying to arrange a replacement."

"Oh, great," Stephen said with forced flatness. His eyes twinkled as he looked at Hank.
"Now I wonder who I'll get saddled with."

Hank shrugged, oblivious, and looked around the lounge.

"I wonder where Mighty Titan could be?"

"Um, Mr. Hank," the clerk said. "There's a notation in your file, as well. Apparently
there's been a last minute change of plans Mighty Titan's been called away to the moon
with the rest of The Century Guard. All the team's interns have been re-assigned to
second-string heroes."

Hank's face fell. Stephen himself winced a little at the phrase 'second-string heroes.'

"Oh no!" Hank cried. "But I was gonna get his autograph!"

"Hmm," Stephen recited, loving every minute of it. "Tough break, buddy. Looks like
we're both gonna get saddled with "

Stephen paused for effect " with "

Hank blinked at him, as it slowly sank in.

"With?"

Relishing the moment, Stephen turned to the clerk as he had before. She grinned at him
and nodded silently.

And where two years before, Stephen had muttered a silent curse, this time he merely
grinned back. Who said you couldn't go home again?

"Uh, you were saying?" Hank asked. "Who are we gonna get stuck with?"

Stephen sighed not the heavy, long-suffering sigh he'd uttered the first time he'd lived this
moment, but a slow, contented one. So far, it was all working out exactly the way he'd
wanted it. So far, his wish was coming true.
And any moment now, the alarms would sound, the disaster would happen and he'd meet
her too

And then he'd find out if the second part of his wish had come true.

His heart leaping with anticipation, Stephen nodded his thanks to the clerk and tapped
Hank on the arm.

"C'mon Henry," he said, a trace of amusement in his voice, "let's go get your luggage."

And as he walked, he counted off the seconds in his head until he heard Hank say "Um,
actually, sir, my name is Hank!"

Chapter Six:
I may be a fool, but Im leaving on foot
by Joe Grendel

The Djinn Realm.

OzBat looked around. The Pantheon had spread out into the cloudy realm, pondering. He
could hear the Joe Corps arguing loudly amongst itself.

He walked off the way Grendel had gone.

After a moment, he noticed the texture of the ground beneath him changing. He looked
down. Although the ground was still made of the cloud-like material, it had taken on the
form and texture of a sidewalk cutting through a grassy lawn. He continued onward,
finding a series of steps.

At the top, the clouds cleared and a two-story home, with two cars in the driveway, all
made of cloud, stood before him.

He pushed the front door open and entered. The sound of children laughing greeted him.

"Joe?"

OzBat walked toward the sounds, pausing in the doorway of the living room. Grendel sat
in a rocking chair, his feet up on a footstool, a phantom Lucky sitting in his lap, two
children racing around him, laughing. When they ran between him and OzBat, the imp
could see they were translucent, phantoms like the cat.

"Joe?" OzBat walked forward, then stopped as another figure, a woman with sandy
brown hair, entered the room.
Smiling, she slowed the two toddlers' headlong flight. The boy, a brown-eyed blonde of
about four, grabbed a ghostly Dr. Seuss book and leapt onto the cloudy sofa. The girl,
brown-haired and green-eyed, wiggled up onto Joe's lap, displacing the irritated cat.

The woman paused beside him, speaking to him in a low voice. He smiled, his eyes on
OzBat. The woman then left, returning to the room from which she came.

"You and kevrhon really know how to manipulate this realm." OzBat walked up beside
Grendel, staring hard at the little girl, who examined him with an equal curiosity.

"More practice with other dimensions than the rest of you. You'll get the hang of it."

"Joe? Who was that woman? Who are these children?"

"No one," Grendel said, reaching for the little girl, his hand piercing her shoulder. He
winced as if in pain.

"Have you been crying?"

"No."

"Oh."

Grendel stood up, sending the little girl zipping to the sofa.

"Well," OzBat said after a moment, "Is this what you're going to wish for? Some second
chance at past romance, like Hatman did?"

"No."

OzBat looked around, a slow realization of who these people were, or might have been.

"You're going to wish you'd never sold your soul, ain't ya? I reckon that's right."

The children and cat faded away, and the house collapsed into a rolling fog. When it
cleared away, OzBat and Grendel stood in an empty, cloudy waste.

"No. There's no such thing as a free lunch. I'm living proof of that, aren't I?" He looked
down at OzBat. "Maybe we'll see each other again one day."

"What?"

Grendel raised his arms, and lifted his face toward the hidden sky.

"I wish I was back in my bar."

He vanished. OzBat, feeling the ghosts of what might have been, shivered, and hurried
back to the rest of the Pantheon.

Chapter Seven: Home again,

home again,
jiggity-jig
by Joe Grendel

J Street.

Shivering from the cold, Grendel pushed open the front door of the Pond Bar and Grill.

"Hello, Jeannie, Abdul Aziz." He laughed in surprise as the genie enveloped him in a bear
hug.

"We thought you were dead! Oh, I better tell Marital Bliss that you're back!" She
vanishes in a burst of pink smoke.

"Abdul Aziz." Grendel sat down across the table from the merchant, who had a copy of
Grendel's will and his accounting ledgers before him. "Were you going to keep this a
bar?"

"La. Alcohol, as you know, is haram." Abdul shrugged, grinning. "I thought, maybe, an
Egyptian-style coffee house. Apple tobacco water pipes, Turkish coffee, baklava."

"Baklava?"

"I am very cosmopolitan."

"Well, do you mind if I borrow Jeannie for a few days?"

"With pleasure."

***

Grendel unzipped his purple parka (with Polartec lining: WARM!), accepting the cup of
hot chocolate from Marital Bliss.

"When is this?"

Biting back her question, Marital Bliss answered slowly.

"About November 23. It's a Saturday. You've been gone about a week. Joe, what
happened?"
He sighed.

"Nemesis sent us to where he and der Schnitzel were trapped after the explosion. Never
mind. It was Point Zero Station, on a water world in the Trade Wars Universe. The aliens
the original Dr. Death sent to kill Abin Gallagher were still there, and they were too much
for us. We got to my old ship and tried to use the warp engine to crack open a door
between dimensions."

He looked at Marital Bliss, considering his next words carefully.

"We got separated. I ended up back here. I don't know what happened to the rest. But
kevrhon was alive the last time I saw him."

Barda, disbelief written on her face, glanced at Mr. Miracle.

"Well," she said, her eyes shooting daggers, "If you say so."

"Grendel," Miracle began, "I know you don't like to do the super hero thing, but Nemesis
has attracted a whole bunch of supervillains to J Street "

"No."

" and although John Starr, Satellite, Elastic, Thunderbolt, the Buried Alien and,
whathisname, Snap!!!Man did OK against them before "

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'm not a hero. I don't want any part of your little adventures. Get Borelli. He's real
high on being a superhero."

***

The abandoned power plant at 2nd and J Streets.

Darkhalf's implant surged to life and he grew to nine feet high and a massive 400 pounds.

He grinned, silently thanking Nemesis for his gift.

"Borelli's back. Time to die, little man."

Chapter Eight: Decisions

by Jason
J Street

"He said NO?"

"Yeah. He wants nothing to do with heroing."

Jason looked down at the ground. Maritial Bliss watched Jason get riled up.

"Terrific. The one guy who comes back, it HAS to be Grendel. I shoulda torned down the
bar when I had the chance."

"So, what do we do now?"

"I I don't know."

"Maybe we can convinced Joe to "

"Oh yeah, right. Listen, try this. Ask Joseph No, TELL him to give any and all
information he has on where he was. Five-to-one says the Pantheon was in the same
place. MIRACLE! BARDA!"

The hottest couple on New Genesis appeared.

"Guys, listen. I got a bad vibe about the coming days. Grab every hero you can. If Grendy
can't help and the team's lost, we gotta build a Pantheon from the ground up."

"Understood."

"WAIT! I just thought of something. If you see any Joe Gallaghers around, grab him and
bring him to me. I bet one of those guys knows where the Pantheon is."

"Good thinking."

"Guys? Thanks."

As Barda and Miracle departed, another figure emerged from the shadows.

"Shadowcat? What are YOU doing here? I haven't seen your sorry self since the
election."

"There is a ripple in time "

"Lovely. When?"

"Two years ago Toronto. There are now two Hatmen."

"WHAT?"

"I will pursue "

"Whoa, bucky. One step at a time. You don't do the time trip yet. Only when I give the go
will you depart. Comprende?"

"Understood."

Chapter Nine:
What part of "no" don't you understand?
by Joe Grendel
Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill

The new Chris Isaak album was on the jukebox.

"Get out, peach-fuzz."

Jason turned red with anger.

Jeannie, pouring a beer for Thunderbolt, looked from Grendel to Borelli with curiosity,
but said nothing.

Borelli waved a finger at Grendel.

"You know more than you're telling!"

"And you know less than you think. Go be mayor or get a cat out of a tree or something,
[bad word]."

Buried Alien and John Starr paused in their pool game.

"You need some help on patrol or anything?"

Elastic extended his head out of the men's room.

"I can help, too."

Borelli waved them away angrily.

"No, yes, let me think about it."

He stalked out into the street. The sidewalk around him exploded and Jay "Darkhalf"
Bizarri settled to the pavement down the block.
"Time to die, tubby!"

Jason climbed to his feet, only to be knocked down again.

"What the? My ring's charge?"

A figure skipped backwards away from him. Looking behind him, he saw the Black
Axxxer, her energy ax throbbing with the stolen energy, snickering gleefully.

"That's right, crybaby," Darkhalf laughed, "I'm pumped full of power, thanks to Nemesis,
and you're sucked bone dry. Let's get this over with, once and for all."

Chapter Ten
by the White Knight

The Djinn Realm.

White Knight saw Ozbat and Grendel walk away, right after Hatman had disappeared.
He had to take his helmet off because the mystical energies were rendering his Magic-
Detecting-Vision useless. He kneaded his forehead with his armored palm and sat down
on
the cloud-like floor.

"So, this land is magical and one wish can be granted. I have doubts regarding the rights
and wrongs of the subject. But then again, what can I lose?"

He opened his mouth and voiced his wish silently. And a figure appeared from the thin
air, a few feet away from him. It was a woman, dressed in a silk dress, and had a cloak
over
her shoulders. Her presence was royal-like. She was tall, almost White Knights height.
Her hair was long and combed it downwards so it fell above her shoulders and was
confused with the cloak. Her eyes were brown, like her hair and she had a lovely body.
For an instant, she appeared confused, disoriented. Then, her eyes rested on the armor-
clad figure.

"J'oss?"

He muttered silently and the armor broke away from his body and re-formed itself beside
him. He smiled.

"Yes, my love. It is me."

She ran and embraced him.

"J'oss, I was so worried about you! After the armies were summoned and my father sent
me to my chambers, I lost contact with you!. I wanted so much to see you and " her voice
quivered and broke off.

"I know, Lesley. I know." He caressed her hair with his left hand. He felt her body close
to him, soft and warm. A knot formed in his throat. "I want you to listen to me, beloved,
for what I have to say is of dire importance." He felt her body stiffen.

"Y-yes?"

He swallowed hard.

"There is going to be a huge battle. Our fate is hanging on the balance. The armies of
your father need me and I shall fight alongside him for the protection of Clarrd. But
before I go to battle, there is one thing I must ask from you."

"Say it, my love. It shall be yours."

"I ask for a kiss, dearest Lesley." His voice broke slightly and a film of tears clogged his
eyes, as he approached his lips to hers and embraced her.

The time that passed as J'oss and Lesley kissed was not of importance and not matter of
record. But to J'oss it seemed to last a lifetime. At last they separated, breathless.

"I shall fight for you with all my strength," he vowed "Thank you, dear." He said to
Lesley as she began to disappear into the thin air. "Till we see each other " he muttered. A
tear rolled from his eye, through his cheek and to the floor, where the cloud absorbed it
without a sound. He muttered again and his armor broke and reassembled on his body. He
put his helmet on and joined the remaining members of the Pantheon.

Chapter Eleven: Third time's the charm

by Atomope

The Djinn Realm.

The scene is a pleasant lake near the center of this strange new dreamworld. A large
chunk of the dream-world Pantheon is there, chatting about possibilities of how to use
their dreams, and of course the countless ethical questions such a thing brings up.

Unfortunately, one Pantheon member hasn't been listening or present for much of this.
Shortly upon his arrival here, Mope took the rare opportunity to explore the sub-atomic
quantum-physics of a dimension such as this.

What he found was amazing and beautiful, so he is quite out-of-touch of the valid ethical
points that have been made thus far
In the midst of a very intriguing line of thought between Aquaman, Amazon and The
Mighty Hank!, AQ starts to make a reference to Mope when he realizes

"Hey, where's Mope been since we got here?"

***

Kramer Books (J Street branch) Bestseller's List, Nov. 26th, 1996:

1. Pantheon Colors, by Anonymous

2. The Comic Book Heroes, by Gerard Jones and Will Jacobs
3. I Want You to Know, by Tim Grey
4. Pantheon Fiction, a screenplay by Quentin Tarrantino
5. Fodor's Guide to the Many Dimensions of J Street

***

Djinn World, later that night by the lake.

A little to AQ's discomfit, the heroes had roasted up a very nice fish fry and boil,
including lots of tasty yummies like scallops, trout, flounder, and shark.

The sun long since down, they were regaling each other with debate and extrapolation
about "wish ethics"

Amazon, looking up at the moon as the night waned, noticed a shadow appear across the
moon's corner. Soon, the others noticed as well. The shape soon drifted into view,
apparently blocking the Moon's reflection of the Sun's rays by its shape. The figure
appeared to be a caped being of immense size. It soon drifted out of the moon's
silhouette.

AQ: Weird.

later that night, Amazon was now the only one still awake. She was stuck, decided that
she wanted a wish, but unsure what that might be. Strolling her thoughts away, she came
near the top of a large, rolling hill, lit well by the full moon.

Amazon got the feeling she was being watched. She looked out across the moon-lit
landscape of this strange dream dimension, looking down the hill. She saw nothing out of
the ordinary, not at the lake, not anywhere. Deciding that it was just her imagination, she
turned around to continue up the hill. That's when she saw him.

Looking for all the world like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day blimp with an attitude, Mope
broke a cloud far above and away, gently nearing the sleeping Pantheon members.
Amazon guessed Mope's current size to be about half a mile long. Banking softly
downward, Mope slowly shrank down as well, until he was a normal 6'3" as he landed
just before Amazon on the top of the hill. Amazon noticed Mope had a full beard, a quite
roguish and noticeable one, noticeably red even in the moonlight.

Mope: You guys are still HERE?

Amazon: Well, we said we'd be here maybe a few days, and it's been just barely two. I
think a lot of us are still tackling our consciences hey, wait a second What were you
doing up there?

Mope: (clearly still taking in what Amazon just said) A few days? I've been gone for
YEARS! I thought you were all long gone once I got lost in space. Oh wow, this is great.
Wow, this is great. looking down at the campsite) They're all sleeping? Wow, that looks
awfully good. Maybe I'll just get some sleep and tell you all what's happened in the
morning.

Amazon: Oh, come on, you've got to tell me how you were able to get so BIG up there.

Mope: Well, I remember, gosh it seems so long ago, I remember that after I'd explored the
sub-atomic links that connect this reality to others, and saw the source of the wish-lava, I
knew what I wanted. I wanted MORE. (Mope pauses, pulls on his beard a little as they
head a little down the hill) Does that sound greedy? I just felt that I could accomplish and
know so much on amazing levels if only my white dwarf fragment was not so small and
well, limited. So, I wished for the power of not just a fragment, but of 100 White Dwarf
stars. With that at my disposal, "getting real small" is now just a minor part of me. Here
let me show (Mope turns a beautiful ivory shade of shiny metal) you. This is my full, un-
stealthed, armor. Go ahead touch it, that's real White Dwarf material. (Amazon touches
his arm. The white dwarf material shines briefly in response). I can do so much now. You
should see me fly, you should have seen me take on Galactus but really, I should get some
rest I think.

Amazon and Mope head back down to the lake and to rest.

***

Deep Space. The Wish Dimension.

In this reality, Earth long ago became a Nexus of the "wish-lava," a powerful arcane force
that "djinnis" and wish-fulfilling creatures from most dimensions drew their energy from.
Outside Earth's atmosphere however, much was the same it might be in many realities.
People on millions of planets lived basically the same lives they might have lived in any
other dimension, completely clueless that this "reality" was special, in that the Earth of
this reality was the "Wish Nexus."

One race however, had indeed noticeably been changed by the Wish Earth. At one time,
their world was just a big wet mess of swamp and much holes, in which their ancient
predecessors swam happily as innocent octupi. Then something happened to the White
Dwarf that their small moon orbited. Actually, many, many things happened.

One day the Mope Men arrived, and sorrow and destruction for these primitive octupi
soon followed.

But that was 3 million years ago, and now this Octupian race, greatly advanced, has
tracked down each Mope one-by-one and exterminated them in racial and planetary
vengeance.

Mope #001, spotted heading for the third planet of a yellow sun was next. The armada
broke past Pluto even as the sun came up by the lakeside

Chapter Twelve: More questions than answers

by OzBat!

The Djinn Realm.

OzBat floated a few foot above the surface of the lake. Like Grendel's house, it was
nebulously cloudy and transparent, coupled together by the active imaginations of various
Pantheonaires to provide a bit of comfort while they actively pondered over their
individual "wish" list.

Somehow, Oz had the feeling that Aq! had been prominent in conjuring up the lake. All
those who had eaten fish for tea now had something akin to a mild case of food
poisoning, and were very carefully keeping tabs on each other to ensure that nobody
wished they didn't feel sick anymore

The imp looked around in the pale light of the moon, which also appeared transparent and
imaginary. The cloud-stuff was everywhere, and although it responded to one's thoughts
to take on virtually any shape or texture you could possibly want, deep down underneath
Oz knew it was still a magical vapor of uncertain qualities. The Mite shivered, as he
watched
kevrhon manipulate some of the ether into complex crystals and geometric shapes,
keeping himself amused until his teammates had all made up their minds in spite of his
warnings, leaving him to clean up the mess, if indeed he could.

Ozbat shivered again, almost uncontrollably, and wondered why. Looking down, his cape
dragged into the cloud-substance just below him. He hoisted his cape up over his
shoulder, and the feeling vanished.

"kev, do you feel?"

kevrhon looked up, surprised.

"Yes I do, but I didn't think anybody else here would. I wonder why?"
"Maybe my bond with Jeannie?"

"Hmm, if this is really the realm that the Djinn draw their powers from, you could be
getting some kind of empathic feedback from Jeannie's distress over your disappearance.
Or "

kevrhon was still wearing his helmet, but Ozzie could swear his eyes were
crossing in extreme concentration.

"Maybe you 'fifth dimensional' imps have a link to this place as well. I mean, honestly,
some of the stuff you guys conjure up doesn't really follow any set form of magical
principles, outside of the usual levitations, teleportations, and such! Have you ever
thought of HOW you do the things you do? Where the power comes from?"

"Uh nope! I just sorta 'will' it into being, I guess!"

"I'm glad the guardians never give imps power rings, then!" said White Knight, trying to
cheer himself up after the successful conclusion of his own wish. None amongst the
Pantheon knew why he was upset by getting his hearts wish, and the Knight wasn't
willing to elaborate further at that point, so they let it go.

"Thanks heaps!"

"If kevrhon is correct, then we are the only magically-inclined people here, and it will be
our responsibility to protect these people from themselves. Somehow, we've got to get
them all back."

"They won't go willingly! Lookitthem! They're all going through hundreds of different
scenarios in their minds, trying to decide which one would be best! How do you convince
somebody that their heart's desire could have drastic consequences?"

"kev, calm down, your helmet is starting to ring every time you up the volume under
there!"

kevrhon sat down in midair next to the mite, and JYu joined them, wiping some last tears
from his eyes. With kev rubbing his ears under the helmet, and Ozzie temporarily muffled
while attempting to get rid of a redundant cowl-restraining device (only kept in case a
gamma bomb unwittingly turned him back into HulkMite - a remote prospect at best)
they really did look like the three wise monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

Until OzBat said something suitably muffled as he finally removed the offending device,
and *BAMF*!ed out of sight.

"Great! First Hatman, and now him! If they all keep vanishing, its gonna be hell to
contain the retconns!" exclaimed kevrhon. White Knight just nodded, knowingly, sadly.
 ***

Elsewhere, and elsewhen: In the offices of Hanna-Barbera, an imp in a blue and black
Batman costume is about to sign a consent form for the use of his image and name in an
upcoming Batman and Robin cartoon series. As the pen descends towards the page, a
small gloved hand appears out of thin air, thumps the unwitting mite on the noggin, and
then both Mite and glove momentarily disappear.

A few moments later, a sheepish Mite reappears, straightens his cape and cowl, and says
"I've just been informed by my, uh, my manager, yeah thats it, my manager, that I should
actually obtain some form of recompense or royalty for using my name in this
enterprise!"

The two studio execs look at each other crestfallen.

"Damn! Almost got away with it! We'll be ruined if the boss finds out about this!"

The Mite rose to a commanding height above the desk.

"I'm not looking for a huge amount, just enough to get by on! Think of me as a member
of your creative staff!"

Exec 1 looked at exec2 for a brief moment, considering.

"As long as you have absolutely no input into the storylines and art "

" or the publicity or any other H-B company matters, we would value your contribution
to this project!" continued the other.

"Great! When do we start?"

"Uhhh, busy schedules! Go on home, and we'll call you!"

"OK! And send those royalty checks to this address! Ciao!"

As the two execs fanned away the smoke, they then could see an Oz-tray-lian Post Office
box scrawled across the office calendar. In a little over a months time, the very first
Batman, Robin and BatMite animated cartoon went to air!

***

Later, the three wise monkeys again hover up on a transparent hill, keeping watchful eye
on their fellow Pantheonaires down by the cloudy banks of the cloudy lake.

"So, was it worth it?" kev asked. "Messing with time and reality, for a brief period of
wish fulfillment?"
"Absolutely! I could have done it myself, but I almost certainly would have had the time
continuum come crashing down on my head! So, I bamfed myself back in time, and used
my wish to keep the time stream steady!"

"Egads, a bit of fore-thought, from you?"

"Some dreams do come true! That miserable cartoon is still being shown in some
countries, so with the pittance they agreed to pay me, I've actually got something akin to
a regular pay packet with which to keep meself and Jeannie, and not rely on shift work at
Grendel's so much!"

The White Knight nodded again.

"Yes, keeping some distance from Grendel can only be a good thing."

And as the cloudy ether slowly wafted around them eerily, neither kevrhon or OzBat
could muster up the gumption to ask him what he meant

Chapter Thirteen: A helpful flashback

by Mope

Sleep in the valley of the wish-lake.

Mope dreams of his immediate past, as his mind attempts to make sense of it all. Soon
after arriving in this "wish-world," Mope had spent some time sitting on an Oxygen atom
in a blade of grass, exploring the strange sub-atomic properties of this dimension. The
world of the proton, neutron, and electron can be tranquil like few other places (maybe
South Dakota) and it was there Mope decided he wanted to increase his power greatly. He
knew he would possibly become a Mr. Manhattan-ish figure, if he allowed it, but he also
knew it would be a real RUSH and he would always regret not trying.

So, from that little atom of oxygen, he made his wish. He wished for the fragment of a
white dwarf star to be replaced by the combined potential mass/attributes of 100 white
dwarf stars. This massive whammy of mass, created a "pocket dimension" where Mope
could slide this massive mass back and forth as he willed.

Perhaps all that mass, and the resultant extra dimension did something "unexpected" to
all involved?

So, Mope set off into the cosmos, enlarged to a size of several miles long, traveling at
speeds of several hundred light years per hour. Einstein hinted at the possible time-space
fluxes possible. With a variable mass of 100 white dwarf stars, this only accentuated the
problem (Hence Mope's sensation of being gone "years.")
Mope reveled in his new power. Finding a deserted ringed planet, he SMASHED through
the rings, sending the icy fragments in a beautiful shattering display that astronomers on a
hundred worlds marveled at. Mope paused for a second to regret the destruction, but he
noticed that the ring reformed itself quickly.

And Mope flew and flew, throwing a large mass forward in momentum, while his actual
body mass was zero, all while completely sheltered in an impenetrable casing of white
dwarf material.

BUT

just as he thought he'd head back to Earth, Mope felt a tug in space. At first, it was just a
tendency to veer a degree or two, then he found himself spiraling in a slow circle of
decline into a very large white dwarf star.

Mope tried and tried, but couldn't veer out. The impact was inevitable

SPLOOOOOOOSSHHHHHHHHHBAMMMMMMMMMMM

He was in. Mope was in the white dwarf star. And stuck. He tried and tried, but he was
stuck. Trying to use the mass of his 100 white dwarf stars only resulted in that mass being
swallowed by the very alive and active star he was trapped in. Trapped in what seemed
like a blinding, pearly dream, Mope eventually gave up and slept.

That's where things got hazy for Mope.

Here's what happened: This particular white dwarf was partially active (see "Cloud" in
the Defenders, issues #104-#120 or so) In Mope, the white dwarf star saw the means to
freedom. In Mope's image, it created dozens of proto-Mope's each wielding a fraction of
his "100 white dwarf stars." One by one, the "Mope clones" split from the star.
Mistakenly, the white dwarf accidentally let Mope out with one of the clones. For
millions of years, the white dwarf star had watched quietly the progression of the
Octupoid life on the small moon orbiting it. When Mope was kidnapped, the octupoids
were beginning interstellar travel. However, the impact of Mope's mass on the star caused
the star and Mope to be dragged back in time a million years.

So, expecting to greet the newly-spacefaring octupoids, the proto-Mope-star-beings were

ANGERED and distraught to find the octupoids were once again in their primordial slop.
The star had waited so long, and was now resentful of the wait he would have to endure
again. Reflecting his dismay, the army of "proto-Mopes" began a reign of terror and
slavery over the growing race for a million years. Eventually, the race evolved to a point
that they were able to fight back against the Mopes.

All these millions of years, the one, true Mope floated in a time-stasis-ish coma far out in
space. When the Octupoids began interstellar travel, they sparked a "thawing" that
eventually awakened Mope, conveniently within months of his original arrival in this
dimension.

And so, Mope headed back to the Wish-world

Now here's where it gets weird: Although Mope's original 100 white dwarf stars masses
were "split" between the dozens of "Mope Clones," that was not in the time period
leading up to his arrival. So, that meant that as each Mope Clone was killed by the
Octupoids, the mass that each controlled was returned to the "pocket dimension," leaving
the One-True-Mope with his original 100-white-dwarf-star mass to use, like nothing had
ever happened.
So, what does all this mean? Mope has a nasty race of Octupoids coming to KILL him,
but he doesn't know about it because he doesn't even know the whole "clone" thing ever
happened.

Let's just hope he's not a clone too.

(He's not. that's just a Spider-Man joke.)

OK, with that mess explained

The Octupoid Invasion Force just cleared Mars, the magically twinkling blueness of the
Wish-Earth lay before them.

Chapter Fourteen: Just thinkin' about tomorrow!

by The Mighty Hank!

The Mighty Hank! sat in the wish-realm of the Djinn, Mighty confused. He sat with his
head in his hand, watching cars go by. Not real cars, mind you. But imaginary cars that
seemed to be real, only because he thought they sort of looked real. They went fast, they
went "vroom" and all, but how could there be any assurances that they WERE real?

The worst thing about being here was the food. Sure, you got hungry, your mind wished
for a quesadilla or whatever and "poof" it appeared. But how did you know it was real?
No guarantees. How did you know your stomach was really full? Mayhaps one just
wished the hunger away. So, then why wish for food at all?

Hank's stomach growled and gurgled. A walking donut appeared in front of him. Hank
frowned.

Sure, wishes were nice. But, how do you reconcile what you really want with what you
should want. Hank knew that he should wish his way back to J street back to heroing. He
knew that there was danger of some sort that he Might have a chance of doing something
about. But, when you get offered on a plate the chance to have your inner-most secret
desire come suddenly, terribly true, what do you do?
Hank KNEW what to wish for. He convinced himself. He told himself that the old
dreams, the tiny ones that went away long ago because they lost hope, didn't matter as
much as the immediate danger.

Resigned to his duty, Hank's brain began to wish for him to return to J street. But before
his brain had a chance to say, "Hey, let's go back to J Street," one of those tiny dreams
sparked up for a moment, stood up, and expressed itself.

And in a flash, The Mighty Hank! was gone.

***

Hank looked around desperately at the stage, confused. One minute, he was a Norse
godling among men, proud, a fierce warrior. Now, suddenly, he was on stage in front of
thousands of people. He was wearing a Red dress. And he was a little girl.

Hank frowned.

What the hell sick part of my subconscious thought THIS up? Hank thought. He looked
around, the crowd expected something from him. The music began. A bald guy in a
tuxedo came out, and took tiny Hank by the hand.

Suddenly, from someplace inside of himself that he never knew existed, Hank sang out,
"THE SUN WILL COME OUT, TOMORROW, BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR THAT
TOMORROW, THERE'LL BE SUN!"

And the crowd roared. In an instant, Hank felt elated at their thunderous approval. In the
next, his stomach sank.

Under his horrified breath, Hank mumbled, "by Odin's beard, I've wished myself into the
lead in Annie!"

Chapter Fifteen: Up, up, and awaaaaaaayyy!

by The Scarlet Rob

The Djinn Realm.

The Scarlet Rob needed somebody to talk to: droning on and on about his options always
helped him make up his mind. He decided to approach Amazon, since she reminded him
of Lynda Carter, who always seemed really nice on TV.

"Amazon? Do you have a minute?" Ha! Little did she know!

"Ummm sure, Ricky!"

"Rob."

"Oh, right. Look, you're not going to turn into Red Monster or somebody, are you?"

"I don't think so. I'm too worried about this wish thing."

"Worried? Don't you think it's great? You can have anything you wish for!"

"Oh, c'mon!" TSRob shouted. "Haven't you read any fairy tales? Watched The Twilight
Zone? Anything? There's no way we can beat this! No matter what we wish for, it'll
come out wrong! If I wish for something, I'm gonna regret it for the rest of my life!"

"Well, if you go into it with that attitude, it probably will turn out badly," Amazon
predicted. "But you don't have to wish for anything, you know!"

"I know, but then I'll feel like I've wasted an opportunity!"

What a piece of work, Amazon thought. Aloud, she asked, "What if you use reverse
psychology? Wish for something really stupid and maybe it'll turn out well!"

"I don't think so. Fate is too clever to be outsmarted by mere mortals."

"kevrhon? I don't know about that"

"No, I mean" TSRob began. "Oh, what's the use? I'm damned if I do and damned if I
don't. I'll get #*%ed either way! I might as well make a wish and get it over with"

"Listen, Rob, I think if you just wish for something you really want, and don't try to
outsmart the process, it'll be OK!" Amazon advised.

"I doubt it, but thanks for the encouragement! I'll just have to hope the advantages
outweigh whatever twisted cosmic joke I have to endure.

"There is something I've always wanted, and even I don't see what harm could possibly
come from it

"So here goes," TSRob said, a bit hesitantly. "I I wish I wish I could fly!"

TSRob and Amazon distinctly heard a sound like the jingle of Samantha Stevens
wiggling her nose on Bewitched.

"Amazon?" TSRob was already panicking. "I don't get it! You seem to be shrinking!"

"Impossible!" she replied. "Your wish wouldn't affect me! But you're getting taller no,
wait! You're just rising up off the ground!"
TSRob looked down at his feet. They were dangling uselessly above his shadow on the
cloud-like surface, which was getting further and further away.

"Oh, OK!" he said. "I can fly! Terrific! Now, how do I stop?"

"You don't just know? Amazon asked.

"Uh, no! Say, I'm getting pretty high up here you wanna maybe grab an ankle and pull me
back down?"

"Oh, sure!" Amazon tried to comply, but as she reached for a boot, a sudden wind caught
The Scarlet Rob and sent him soaring up about 15 feet off the ground and 20 feet away.
"Amazon!" he yelled. "I'm starting to get a really bad feeling about this!"

"Hang on!" she called. "I'll try to catch you with my magic lasso!"

As Amazon whipped out her lasso, another gust of wind blew TSRob way up in the air
with his cape billowing out behind him like a bright red kite.
"Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Chapter Sixteen: Turning Point

by Jason

For Jason Borelli, Lantern of the Pantheon, the last few weeks had been hectic.

First, he was elected mayor of J Street, despite his obvious reluctance.

Then he was attacked by his former teammates from Wagner. He later found out he was
framed by Dark Jason, an amalgam of Jay Bizzari and Darkhalf.

Then he came back to J Street and found the heroes missing, with only an uncooperative
Joe Grendel returning.

Then he had a vision of Shadowcat telling him Hatman was alive, well, and two years in
the past. It turns out Shadowcat was nowhere near J Street, and Jason may have been
hallucinating, or maybe he was visited by something else.

(Besides, why interfere with Hat's cool story? Also, I didn't know SCat was gone. My
bad.)

Now he had another problem: Dark Jason and Black Axxxer (who is she?) had Jason
nailed dead to right. To make matters worse, Jason's ring was drained of its energy.
And now

WHACK
"What th-?"

Dark Jason rubbed his jaw. Something had hit him. Hard.

"That would be me, youngster!" shouted Buried Allen. "Now back away from the kid!"

"In your dreams, man!" replied DJ, firing power blasts, yet unable to hit BA. Meanwhile,
Black Axxxer was confronted by Thunderbolt and Barda. They made a mad rush at the
villainess, with Barda connecting with a hay maker.

While this was going on, Jason staggered to Grendel's, and charged his ring, staring
coldly at Grendel the whole time. Joseph returned the favor.

Now Axxxer had defeated Thunderbolt and Barda, and had them dead to right.

"Yo! Baby! Over here!"

"YOU! You just don't learn, do ya!"

Once again, the ax began to absorb Jason's power. But this time, he was ready. He let a
little energy get sucked into the weapon. Then, like his fisherman grandfather, he
proceeded to reel in all the energy the ax had!

"Um, Dark Guy?"

Dark Jason stared at Jason, an unconscious Buried Allen at his feet.

Jason had all the accumulated energy trapped in a globe. A broad smile appeared on his
face.

"Go away."

Jason then unleashed all the energy at the villainous duo, but before the full force was
felt, they teleported out.

Jason took a deep breath.

"Guys? Gather around."

The remaining heroes of J Street came to the GL.

"Listen, I know the Pantheon is safe somewhere. But, until they come back, we have to
protect J Street."

"What are you saying, Jason?"

"Well, Bolt, I'm saying we form a new Pantheon. All for one, one for all, just like the old
days!"

The heroes looked around nervously.

"C'mon, there's no guarantee the Pantheon's coming back. But until they do, let's keep the
home fires burning!"

A cheer came from the crowd.

Let's keep the home fires burning?, thought Jason. Where did THAT come from? But I'm
right. Until the real team comes back, I gotta keep things safe here. With or without
Grendel's help.

Chapter Seventeen: Visit

by Jason

The Djinn Realm.

What? How did I get here?

"Yo! Guys! It's me! Jason!"

I don't get it. Why are they ignoring me? Where am I?

"GUYS! HELP! I WISHED FOR FLYING AND I CAN'T GET DOWN!

HAALLLLLPP!"

"I'm coming, Rob!"

Jason tried to create an anchor to bring TSR back to the ground. But the chain was
ephemeral, nonexistent.

What the #&!! is happening?

Then, from the corner of Jason's eye

Shadowcat?

"Hey, Bucky! You brought me here, didn't you?"

Jason lunged at the 'Cat. But Jason merely phased through him. As he hit the ground,
Jason found the floor to be cold and hard.

Pearson International Airport, Gate 16

Pearson Toronto? Cat told me about Hat teleporting to the past oh my God!

There, he saw a younger Hatman and the Mighty Hank stroll together.

"Stephen? Hank? Hello?"

No answer. Jason felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Shadowcat, why the hell did you bring me here?"

"You had to know about Stephen."

Pause.

"You're not Cat. Who are you?"

"Like you have to ask?"

Slowly, Shadowcat's features melt to reveal who he really was

"JONAH!"

"Surprised?"

"You were Shadowcat?"

"No, no. I had to pose as him for you."

"In the name of Busiek, why?"

"You had to know what happened to Hatman, what happened to the rest of the Pantheon."

"I should've been there for them. If I wasn't off gallivanting in some stupid battle"

"Don't blame yourself. Like Barda said before, the Pantheon will always pull through."

"I know. But why did you bring me here to Toronto now? I mean, look at this!"

"'Toronto Blue Jays, Defending World Champions.'"

"How outdated is that? Why did you bring me to the time where Hat time-traveled? I
don't want to ruin his fun."

"I'm a Monitor. I can feel your guilt. Especially on the day "
"When I lashed out at Stephen for dropping out of the mayorial race. I couldn't help it,
Jonah. He's the linchpin to the Pantheon, not me. I believed in Hat. I liked Hat. That's
why I became his campaign manager. He was supposed to be mayor, not me."

"He made his choice, as well as the one he recently made."

The duo look on as another Hatman skulked about, trying not to be seen.

"Jason, it's best if you let him do what he wants to do. He will come back, and you'll be
waiting."

"As always. So now what?"

"Now you wake up."

"What? You mean all this was a dream?"

"Yeah. But you'll know where the Pantheon is. Don't try to rescue them, Jason. They'll do
OK for themselves. Farewell."

"Hey! What about Hank?"

"You don't wannnt ttttooooo knnnnnnnnooooooo"

Jason woke up. A copy of Pantheon Colors was on top of his face.

Now I know the truth. And now I can lead the Pantheon. At least until the others get
back.

Chapter Eighteen: [Stuff] happens. Violent content.

by Joe Grendel

J Street. The deserted power plant.

Dark Jason (or whoever he was at the moment), nodded at the Armored Brigade and the
Axxxer.

"Right, we got the plan down?"

Mantid nodded.

"I go in cloaked, and scope out where the mayor keeps his power battery. But I don't
make a move on it."

"Right."
"Then I," Amon-Ra roused himself, "Set fire to the Nunnery of the Overly Attentive
Madonna. The J Street Irregulars show up to save the day "

"They're calling themselves the Pantheon now," Shogun said.

"Borelli's calling them that," Dark Jason snapped.

"Well, he is the mayor," Mantid said.

"Fine, fine, they're the Pantheon," Dark Jason waved his hands angrily. "Can we get on
with the plan? Amon-Ra burns down the nunnery "

"And I," Shogun continued, "Teleport to where the battery is, and take off with it."

"Then I," the Black Axxxer crossed her legs, and puffed on her joint, "Suck the juice out
of Borelli again."

"And, finally," Dark Jason chuckled, "I kill the mayor, and we take J Street back from the
superheroes."

"Uh," the Mantid said after a moment, "What about Nemesis?"

"[Bad word] him," Dark Jason laughed, "He's out of the way, and I'm in charge of do you
guys like 'Evil, Inc.?'"

"No."

"No."

"No."

"No."

Dark Jason sighed.

"Whatever. I'm in charge of the gang, OK?" He looked around. "And once we control J
Street, we'll be able to rob the multiverse blind."

***

The Djinn Realm.

Der Schnitzel stood up and shook kevrhon's hand.

"You're sure?" asked Fate/Orion/the Interdimensional Cop.

"Ja. If what you're saying is true, my time has passed me by decades ago. And, yes, I
could just use J Street to get back, but knowing all that you all have told me, all that I so
eagerly listened to, I would not be able to fulfill my destiny. And we all have to fulfill our
destinies."

kevrhon nodded.

"I wish that the warp that had taken Nemesis and I to the Trade Wars Universe had sent
me back to Philadelphia instead."

He dissolved into clouds, leaving kevrhon alone in the clearing.

"Goodbye, hero."

***

J Street. Marital Bliss' tower.

Grendel unbuckled his sword belt and gun and handed them to her. Marital Bliss eyed
him carefully.

"Will I be sorry if I don't search you?"

"No." Grendel shook his head.

Marital Bliss unlocked a massive safe-like door. Inside, a transparent yellow film filled
the doorway. She gestured at it.

"Through there. The field prevents teleportation, energy powers, movement faster than
walking pace and astral projection. You can just step on through."

Grendel eyed it.

"Great."

Marital Bliss closed the door behind him.

"So," Nemesis said at last. "You survived."

"Yep. The Pantheon is a bunch of resourceful buggers."

"Are they back?"

"No." Grendel considered a moment. "Most of them will be along at some point, I'm
sure."
"Most?"

"Sure. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Nemesis stood up, pacing the cell.

"Any reason I shouldn't kill you where you stand?"

Grendel grinned.

"Nope."

Nemesis leapt at him, knocking aside Grendel's parry, landing atop him heavily. Grendel
rolled over onto his back, using his legs to throw his counterpart off. Rolling across his
shoulder, he was back up and atop Nemesis, jabbing his index and middle fingers toward
his foe's Adam's apple.

Nemesis responded by shoving his thumbs into Grendel's eyes, gouging them out of their
sockets. Screaming, the current owner of Grendel's Pond Bar and Grill fell back. Nemesis
straddled him, raising his boot to crush his enemy's skull.

Grendel slipped his hand into the back of his waist-band, pulling the stiletto concealed
there, and grabbing Nemesis' ankle with his other hand, slashed the Achilles tendon.

Nemesis collapsed as well, and Grendel rolled atop him. Their bodies now slick with
their identical blood, Grendel head-butted Nemesis, stunning him. His left hand found
Nemesis' throat, which his right hand slashed.

Then hands were pulling them apart and Barda hauled him onto the prison cot.

"Well?" Grendel could feel his face knitting back together, and could hear the ping-ping-
pinging of a mother box.

"Nemesis is dead," came Miracle's voice. "Grendel could have a second career as a
kosher butcher."

"Damn it, Bliss," Barda hissed, now dimly visible as the mother box returned his eyes to
his sockets, and reknit the nerves and muscles, "You had to know what Grendel was up
to."

"He was mine to kill," Grendel wheezed, then winced as Barda squeezed his bicep none-
too-gently.

"You're no better than Nemesis was."

"Oh, but I am," Grendel smiled, cracking the drying blood caked on his face. "Just a little
bit, but it's enough."

Chapter Nineteen: The Search for home

by Dom

In a dark corner of the wish-realm of the Djinn Dom sits alone holding a decanter
thinking to herself.

"Girl, do you know what you almost did to yourself today? You almost made the biggest
mistake of your life. But then again, you might have already done it just by being here."

She slowly takes a drink and thinks.

"Do I really know these people I am stuck here with? Do they really know me? Do they
know I was almost worshipped in my last home! That I was known by everyone there!
That I am nothing but an outsider here!"

Then it hits her

"Of course!! I still have that stupid wish"

Dom closes her eyes and starts

"I wish "

"STOP!"

Alarmed Dom snaps her head back and opens her eyes.

"J?"

"Stop, Dom. I know what you were going to wish "

Jason sits next to her.

"I was going to wish it, too."

"Then, why did you stop me! You know how miserable I am here! I could get rid of all of
this and bring back "

"Stop Dom, please. I know how much you miss it, but this is your home now. You can't
live in the past. Like I have, it's time for you"

Jason gets up and points towards the light.

" to face your future."

She looks up at Jason, he smiles softly but in turn Dom hangs her head.

"But J, I'm afraid. What if I screw up? What if they don't like me?"

"Look Dom, I've never known you to be afraid of anything! Wasn't it you who was telling
people to adjust to change not too long ago, well, Dom it's time to practice what you
preach. You can't stay here in the dark forever."

With that said Dom takes one last drink, gets up and walks towards the light. At first she
flinches, but as she continues along the path, she begins to walk faster and actually looks
forward to meeting up with the rest of the group. As soon as she starts running she looks
back hoping to See Jason, but he is not there. She wonders does this realm only answers
wishes? Or does it also grant desires?

Chapter Twenty: It's a Hard Knock Life!

by The Mighty Hank!

The Mighty Hank, currently trapped in the body of an 11-year-old red-headed child, sings
and dances in his tiny leotard on stage.

"It's a Hard knock life. For, us. IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE! FOR, US! NO ONE
CARES FOR YOU! A SMIDGE! When you're in an OR-PHA-NAGE! It's a hardknock"

The Director jumped up, screaming.

"NO NO NO NO NO! You ball-change on the three, THEN dip back for your spin. The
Three. The THREE!" The Director's face was nearly bursting from the tremendous
amounts of blood pumping through his head.

What had happened to his little starlet? Suddenly, in the MIDDLE of the biggest
Broadway season, his Annie had gotten strange. She was speaking in iambic-pentameter
sometimes. She farted a lot. And, heaven help the wicked, she was drinking BEER! The
director looked up. His little Annie was trying the dance again. She missed it, and became
frustrated.

"Verily, this sucks! I was meant for the fields of battle in Midgaard, not the Broadway
stage! Lo, Odin, Why hath thou cursed me as such?" she said. "Lo, SOMEONE bring me
a flagon of mead, for the thirst is again 'pon me!" The Director looked at his Annie
through his fingers, having placed his head in his hands.

Could it be the pressures of the stage? Was she hanging out with that nasty Drew
Barrymore? Oh, good lord. The Director lit up a cigarette, and decided not to think about
it. His little Annie drank another Miller High Life, sat down on the stage and farted. The
Director shook his had, sadly. At LEAST the show would be over, soon.

Chapter Twenty-One:
Heroes? We don't NEED no steenkin'
Joe Grendel

J Street. The ruins of the Omnipresent Commercial Bank.

"Where's Starr?" Thunderbolt screamed, flinging lightning about frantically. "We're

overmatched here!"

Piledriver responded with PK blasts, matching him blow-for-blow.

"I'm-really-doing-the-best-I-can-pal-but-I've-got-my-hands-kind-of-full!" The Buried

Alien streaked by, locked in hand-to-hand combat with Ricochet.

"ACK! Somebody! Get! This! Crazy! Broad! Off! Of! Me!" Snap!!!Man coughed as
Saffron clawed at his face, and tried to avoid breathing in the cloud she emits.

"This is boring," Killjoy hissed, winding a comatose Elastic around the large chunks of
Satellite with only half her (small) heart in it. "What's the point of dragging along the
Nega-Blaster if Borelli's off being mayoral? Where's the challenge in killing these third-
stringers?"

She smiled to herself, her teeth painted the color of blood and filed to razor points.

"Gee, who'd ever have thought I'd miss the Pantheon?"

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Emerald Huntress

by Hatman

Meanwhile, in Hatman's Fantasy Version of Toronto, two years previous

Lester B. Pearson International Airport

Stephen and Hank pushed through the crowds to the luggage carousel, Stephen
continually looking over his shoulder expectantly. Any minute now, he thought. He
couldn't remember the exact timing of it, but any minute now

Hank broke into his thoughts.

"So tell me, uh, Mister; art thou a super-hero as well, or merely my mentor's faithful
valet?"
"Hmm? What? Oh, uh yeah." Stephen frowned. (Two years ago, when the real Hank had
asked that question, Stephen had clamped a hand over his mouth and shushed him in
extreme irritation, hissing something about how difficult it was to maintain a secret
identity with Hank broadcasting his Super-Hero status to everyone in the airport. Then,
though, he hadn't known what was coming next. Back then, he hadn't been so
preoccupied with the thought of seeing her again Seeing her again, for the first time. He
had to get it right. He had to! If he somehow managed to screw up a second first
impression )

"Um, so which is it then?" the fantasy Hank improvised. "Super Hero or Valet?"

"Hmm?" Stephen said absently, still looking around. "Valet? Oh, don't worry about it. I
don't even own a car. We'll get a cab or something."

Hank frowned, perplexed.

"Uh, all right. Very good then." Scratching his head, Hank nodded to the luggage
carousel. "Uh, verily I dost believe I see my suitcase."

"Uh huh," nodded Stephen. staring out the window.

Hank looked at him in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"Um, why don't you wait here whilst I go fetch it?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatev"

Suddenly he broke off, his eyes going wide. His hand shot out to grab Hank's arm before
the Asgaardian giant could move.

"Forget it!" Stephen snapped.

Hank sighed, and smiled in relief. "Od's blood, I'm glad thee said it before I did. I agree
wholeheartedly this doesn't seem to be working out. It does not appear that we have hit it
off as well as I'd hoped I would with Mighty Titan not that I think that thou art any less of
a hero, mind you, because I'm sure thou art. Methinks it might be best if we put this idea
behind us, and get on with our lives "

Stephen looked up at him, eyes wild.

"What are you? No, no, I mean forget the suitcase! We've got to get out onto the tarmac!"

Hank blinked at him.

"Huh? Wherefore?"
"Because," Stephen shouted, heading for the exit, we're going to miss her if we're not out
there in thirty seconds, he thought. "We're needed!" is what he said instead.

And not three seconds after Stephen lead his charge through the double doors marked
'Employees Only' at the rear of Terminal 1, the warning klaxxons began to howl.

***

The terrorists standing on the wing of the 747 were dressed in thick Parkas and wearing
blue ski masks, despite the sultry heat of the June afternoon. And on their heads: canary
yellow berets. As he and Hank crouched behind a train of luggage carts on the tarmac,
Stephen couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the memory.

"Tourists," he muttered. Hank stared at the plane, aghast. "Hey!" he said. "Those guys
have guns!"

"Yes," Stephen said somberly. "Guns, a whole lotta plastique, a couple bad attitudes, and
some really cheesy French accents, as I recall."

Hank blinked at him.

"You can tell all that from here?"

Stephen reddened slightly.

"Uh, you might say I've found myself in similar situations before."

"Then what do you figure it is they want?"

Stephen nodded at the 747.

"The P.M.'s on that plane. These guys are taking him hostage."

"The who?"

"The Prime Minister," Stephen explained. Then, after catching a glimpse of the confused
look on Hank's face, he added, "He's kind of like the President, but without the respect
and prestige."

"Respect and prestige? Have you seen our President?"

"Have you seen our Prime Minister?"

Hank nodded, conceding the point.

"Shouldn't the leader of your country be more heavily guarded than he appears to be?"
Stephen smiles, remembering that he'd asked himself the same question two years ago.

"Not if he's taking an unscheduled vacation with his secretary at the taxpayer's expense."

"Ah," Hank said. "Perhaps he is not so different from our President, after all." He started
to get up from behind the luggage carts. "Well, my friend, shall we have at it?"

"Not yet!" Stephen shouted, pulling him back down. "She's not here yet!"

Hank looked at him blankly.

"Um, I mean let's just stay here and watch this play out for a bit. Maybe this will all blow
over without our needing to intervene."

Hank blanched.

"Surely thou art not suggesting that we allow yon bad guys to get away with the money?"

"They don't want money," Stephen said.

And then he caught the glint of sunlight, glittering off a shaft of metal in the distance, just
behind the left wing of the jet exactly as he remembered. He felt his heart miss four or
five beats in anticipation of the next moment.

"Showtime," he whispered with a grin.

***

"You heard me!" the taller of the two terrorists shouted into the megaphone to the police
gathered on the runway. "Any of you so much as look at us wrong, and we blow the plane
and take alla you bums with us! Right, Frankie?" He looked over his shoulder. "Show em
the detonator, Frankie! Let em know we mean business!"

"It's Francois', y'idiot!" his partner hissed in a thick Louisiana accent as he waved the
detonator over his head for the police to see. "We're s'posed to be French, remember?" He
tugged on his beret for emphasis.

"Oh yeah, right." Johnny wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned back to the cops.
"So no funny business, sil vous plait! Comprende?"

Frankie winced and shook his head.

"There, that should hold em," said Johnny (whose alias for this job was Jean-Lucor, as he
pronounced it, Gene Luck') He grinned proudly at Frankie, then shrugged uncomfortably
inside of his parka.
"Whew!" said Johnny. "Geez, I'm boilin'. Who'd've thought it could get so hot in the
arctic, huh?"

"I don't think we're in th' arctic, exactly," Frankie said. "I think this here is a bit south of
that; what they call the Northwest Territories."

"Provinces," Johnny corrected him. "They have provinces, here."

"Right," Frankie agreed. "Northwest Prov hey, I think that cop's talking to you."

Johnny turned around, and leaned over the wing, straining to hear.

"Huh? What was that?" He frowned in confusion and turned back to Frankie. "Voo-lay
voos' somethin' or other "

"I think he's talkin' French," Frankie said helpfully.

"Ah." Johnny nodded and turned back to the cops. "Speak American, damnit!" And as the
cops turned to each other and frowned in confusion, as Johnny suddenly remembered
who he was supposed to be and was about to add a por favor' as Stephen and Hank
watched anxiously on the other side of the tarmac it happened.

And when it happened, it sounded a little something like this:

wheeeeeeeeeeee THOK!

Johnny jerked his head back suddenly and dropped the megaphone as it let loose with an
unholy squeal. It dropped with a clang to the wing before it sputtered and died in a hiss of
static. Johnny stared at it for a moment, not quite believing what he saw.

A bright green arrow was sticking out of the end of the bullhorn, its shaft lodged halfway
into the speaker. Another few inches, and it would surely have pierced Johnny's throat.

"Oh, crap!" he groaned.

Frankie turned around and whacked him in the arm with the detonator.

"Hey, doofus! We're French! If you're gonna swear, swear in French!"

But before Johnny could choke out "mon deeyoos", it happened again:

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeTHOK!

And suddenly the detonator was little more than a sparking, melting collection of plastic
and wire in Frankie's hand. Frankie screamed and tossed it off the plane. He and Johnny
watched in horror and fascination as it bounced twice on the runway. The last thing they
saw before it blew up was the quivering shaft of a jade arrow.

"Crap!" Johnny shouted again, looking around frantically, his hands clenching around his
AK-47.

wheeeeeeeeeTHOK!
THOK!
THOK!

Frankie and Johnny looked down in sudden shock. Both of their weapons were now
riddled with quivering green arrows, rendering them useless. One had buried itself in the
cartridge of Johnny's gun, mere inches from his groin. The feathers on the end of it
tickled his inner thigh.

The boys turned to each other, stunned, then looked to the cops on the tarmac. Though
the police honestly looked as stunned as they were, a few of them were quickly getting
over it, and reaching for their sidearms.

"CRAP!" Johnny shouted one last time, dropping his gun and running headlong for the
tail of the plane. "CRAP! CRAP! CRAP! CRAP! CRAP!"

"Hey, that's la crap', Johnny!" Frankie reminded him as he followed, bullets whizzing past
his ear. "It's la crap!'"

***

Hank watched in amazement as the neared the end of the plane, and realized that they
really had nowhere to go.

"Od's blood!" he said. "Looks like thee were right, my friend. Verily yon police officers
appear to have the situation under control. Our presence was not required after all."

"Not yet," Stephen said, standing up slowly. "But the cops don't know about the eight
guys waiting in the plane."

As if on cue, the rear cabin door of the 747 was ripped open. Three more beret-wearing
terrorists appeared in the doorway, laying down a heavy layer of fire that threw the cops
to the ground, to watch helplessly as their cruisers were ripped to pieces. Over the angry
snatter of the machine guns, and the tinkle of the breaking glass, one of the bad guys
could be heard to yell "OLE! ARIBA!" in an attempt to get into character.

"BONZAI!" shouted another.

Stephen shook his head slightly and smiled. They just didn't get it. How had it escaped it
attention all those years ago?
Then again, he'd had a lot on his mind

"Hark, friend! The battle calls us! We are needed!" Hank cried, jumping up and preparing
to hurdle the luggage cart they hid behind.

"Waitasec!" Stephen said, grabbing his arm. "Just wait a second! It's not our cue to go on,
yet!" The first time he'd done this, he and Hank hadn't actually made it outside of the
terminal until the shooting had already started. Anticipating the alarm had given them a
few extra minutes this time round. Precious minutes, he knew, and he would make use of
them. But not just yet.

Besides, if the second part of his wish had really come true, a few minutes wasn't going
to make a difference either way

Hank stared at him confusedly, not understanding.

"But but those poor policemen!"

"They'll be fine for a couple more minutes," Stephen said, nodding towards the melee
with a smile. "Watch."

Hank spun back around to watch in bewilderment. Every fiber of his being cried out at
him to join the fray, to protect the lives of those brave men cowering on the ground
beneath their automobiles, to vanquish the evil French men in the yellow berets, yet this
stranger was his mentor, the hero who he'd been assigned to learn from for the next three
months. Surely he must know what he was doing!

Assuming, of course, that he was a hero, and not just his mentor's loyal valet
Hank was just about to ask that question again, and really pay attention to the answer this
time, when suddenly he heard his new friend breathe in sharply.

Immediately, he understood.

Suddenly, where before no one had been standing, there was a woman standing on top of
that plane. And not just any woman, either. This was a super hero-type woman. He could
tell from the bright green spandex tights and the partial face-mask. That, and the glowing
green cross-bow she had slung over her shoulder. Her blonde hair rippled in the summer
breeze as she moved stealthily towards the rear of the plane, stalking Johnny and Frankie
as though they were her prey.

"Hunter," he heard Stephen whisper beside him, his voice cracking with emotion.

Hank turned to look at him, stunned to see a single tear working its way down his
mentor's cheek.

"It's her," Stephen said in a hushed, almost reverent tone. "It's really her Hunter Green!"
Hank blinked and turned back around. Somehow, the woman named Hunter Green had
managed to knock both Frankie and Johnny out while he'd turned away, and tied them up
as well. Now she was making her way back towards the unsuspecting terrorists firing out
of the plane. Completely unaware that she was above them, they were completely caught
off guard by the pair of emerald boots that caught them full in the face as she flipped over
and swung through the open door

Hank blinked again in amazement, and turned to look at his new friend. A dreamy, wistful
look seemed to cross his features as sounds of the scuffle inside the plane began to reach
them.

"Well?" Hank asked, startling him out of his dream. "Now?"

Stephen turned and grinned at the imaginary version of his best friend. At last, the
moment of truth.

"Yes," he said with a smile. "Now."

And with that he ripped open his shirt to reveal the costume beneath ...

Chapter Twenty-Three: Off the Beaten Path

by Jason

A nd so it happened that King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table vanished
into an uncanny battle, leaving Camelot defenseless. All the knights were gone, save one.
Gawain, the Green Knight became the sole protector of Camelot against all those who
would destroy it

"I hate this. I'm getting sick of this crud."

Jason had taken out all the villains single-handily again. But the cost of the battle proved
to be too much. His head as sore due to concentration. He was stressed out.

BAMF!

Jeannie teleported in front of Jason.

"You called me?"

"Yeah. I know where the Pantheon is. They're in the Djinn Realm."

"They are?"
"Yeah. Jonah showed me himself. I know you're a djinn. Is there any way to get them
out?"

"Well, there is a possibility, but if I mess up, I die, and so does everybody in the realm."

"Beautiful. Look, forget I said anything. But keep it in mind if we're too overwhelmed."

Chapter Twenty-Four: Jason finds the cure for cancer.

by Joe Grendel

Fairfax County, Virginia.

Joe leaned back in his chair wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"Good pecan pie, Mom."

Doug's girlfriend looked from Doug to Joe and back.

"I swear, I'd never know you were brothers just clapping eyes on ya." Denise was an
Australian, a flight attendant for Gulfi Air.

"Yeah, it was good pie, Mom." Doug stretched his arms, grunting.

"Well," Joe said, carrying dishes to the sink, "I've got to get going. Still have work to do
tonight."

***

J Street.

The front wall of Minuteman Comics was gone, marking the passage of the giant red-
clothed figure now sitting in the middle of the floor, flipping through "The All-New
Exiles."

Bloodlust, super-strong, invulnerable to, well, everything, and just plain mean, loved his
comics.

"Stoopid Minutemen always make me pay for my comics."

An astral projection appeared before him.

"Mr. Mindbender! Whatchu want?"

*We're gathering at the power plant to plan how we're going to kill the remaining J Street
heroes. Bring your comics with you, if you want, but get down here!*
"OK "

***

The Djinn Wish Realm.

Amazon sat up, yawning.

"I just had the most wonderful dream, gail. I dreamt that we were back on J Street
together, and the entire Pantheon had Thanksgiving dinner together."

"I had the same dream!"

"That's just the psycho-active nature of this dimension," kevrhon said quietly. "We never
saw any of them. That was simply a fantasy on your part."

The ladies stuck their tongues out at him.

***

J Street.

The abandoned power plant.

"This is ridiculous," the Black Axxxer hissed. "Borelli's not that powerful."

"Well," Shogun replied, "I think it's just that he doesn't want to write any chapters where
he isn't the king of the universe. 'Jason had taken out all the villains single-handily again'
indeed!"

"What we need to do," Mindbender said at last, "Is to separate Deus Ex Machina Boy
Borelli from his Machina."

"I thought we were talking about Jason Borelli," Bloodlust said after a moment.

"We are, we are." Mindbender lit a cigarette and took a drag. "And I have a very simple
idea of how to do it."

Chapter Twenty-Five: Past and Present Tense

by Hatman

An Imaginary Version of Pearson International Airport, Toronto

Two years ago
In the time that it took to think about doing it, he had shed himself of his civilian clothes,
and was fully in-costume. Hank barely had time to blink before he was off.

(The first time he'd done this, he'd wasted 30 precious seconds changing out of his secret identity,
struggling with his fly, in which his cape had gotten caught )

He raced across the tarmac at full tilt, leaving behind a violet whirlwind in his wake.
Hank was left behind, his white hair tousled by the breeze, to stare in open-mouthed
wonderment.

( having finally worked off his jeans and pulled his fedora out of the folds of his cape, he'd then had to leap
over the luggage carts and run the 30 feet to the runway. With his long legs, Hank had easily out-paced
him, then picked him up and carried him bodily to the scene, in the interests of saving time.)

Gunfire rattled off the inside of the door frame from the inside of the jetliner, throwing up
sparks as metal struck metal. Stray bullets pinged and whizzed through the air, out of
control. He reached out to swat them down with his bare hands, to catch them in his
teeth.and pulled to a stop in front of one young officer just in time, to send what would
have been a fatal accident careening off his chest.

( two officers had been wounded by the ricochets before he and Hank had gotten their bearings, and the
rookie had been killed instantly. The kid had only just turned 22, was supposed to be getting married in six
weeks. His fiancee had looked tragically beautiful at the funeral as she'd sobbed her heart out.)

Hank was loping along after him now, shouting something over the hail of gunfire that
erupted next from the cabin. He ignored it shrugging off the hot lead as though it were
little more than a summer shower as he leapt 12 feet upwards, to land in the doorway. The
plane actually shook as he touched down on it.

( Hank had been first into the plane, taking the brunt of the attack, clearing a path for him the white-haired
giant had merely leapt, while he had needed to use the Fishing Hat to fire off a Hatline the long, slow climb
into the plane had taken him at least eight point six seconds, time that they didn't have )

The cabin was dark compared to the bright sunlight outside, lit only by the muzzle flashes
of the automatic weapons firing towards him. He could make out figures moving in the
darkness, dancing in a deadly ballet of thrust and parry, dodge and attack. One of the
voices grunting with effort was hauntingly familiar.

"Well?" it demanded of him as the bullets glanced off his body. "Don't just stand there!
Do something!"

And he smiled.

(He'd nearly taken several shots to the head as he'd hopped up through the door, his eyes unaccustomed to
the darkness barely had he managed to drop to the floor before the bullets had gone sizzling past over his
head he'd stayed crouched there for a second, fumbling with his Crash Helmet and waiting for his eyes to
adjust to the darkwhen suddenly a hauntingly beautiful voice, strained with effort, had demanded of him
"Well? Don't just lie there! Do something!")
He took two steps into the cabin, carefully predicting where the muzzle flashes would
come from next, then quietly silenced the guns with a fiery glance. He heard their shouts
of pain and shock and alarm as their sizzling weapons tumbled to the floor.

( he'd used the Rabbits, here. They'd come out of the Top Hat in black bodysuits, wearing night-vision
goggles, humming the theme to Mission Impossible.' Sixteen tiny silhouettes were added to the mass of dark
bodies scuffling around the cabin, and the guns stopped funny, he actually missed the Rabbits )

Hank was behind him, now, and without hesitation he leapt into the fray, tossing beret-
wearing silhouettes this way and that as though they were rag dolls. Every so often, one
of his victims would collide with one of her's, and the two would go down in a tangle of
arms and legs. It made him smile, even as he had to rush around the cabin catching them,
to keep them from serious injury. Though he lacked the style and finesse that he'd learn in
his later years, it was obvious that all of Hank's strength was already top-drawer. And she
she was every bit the warrior he remembered her to be.

( it had been everything he could do to stay upright during the battle, to keep clear of the bodies that
seemed to be flying left and right Hank had fought like a madman, using all his strength with little regard
for control, which would result in partial paralysis for at least one of their assailants, though they wouldn't
find out about that for several months, to Hank's dismay She, though, had been ALL control, and it had
stunned and amazed him)

One of the Berets actually managed to work his way behind him mainly because he was
busy catching two of his fellows and took a swing at his head with a crowbar

( which had sent him sprawling to the floor in a wave of nausea and blind pain only the Crash Helmet's
force-field had kept him conscious, kept him alive )

which hummed upon impact like an overgrown tuning fork. Vibrating from the force of
impact, the terrorist stumbled backwards into the wall

( raised the crowbar high in the air with two hands, ready to bring it down again against the fading force
field, against the back of his skull )

and was caught in the midsection with a well-placed kick from an emerald boot! The
yellow beret dropped his weapon to the floor and doubled over in pain, only to be caught
over the back of the neck with a vicious Judo chop.

"Careful there, handsome," came that haunting voice again.

( as she helped him make his way to his feet five point four seconds, not a good sign but had she actually
called him "handsome?" In this darkness, how could she tell? Or was she being sarcastic?)

" I don't have time to babysit you," she finished. At which point he turned just in time to
catch by the throat the man she'd just knocked to the ground the man she'd just turned her
back on to help him before he could sink the knife between her ribs.

( saving her had been an accident he had mistakenly tripped over one of the rabbits while still leaning on
her, pulling her down with him the beret had gone stumbling over them, the knife grazing his cheek before
the rabbits had pinned the man down and begun tying him up )

He melted the knife with a glance and dropped the terrorist to the floor, watching sternly
as the man scurried away to hide in a corner.

He turned to smile at her wryly.

"Thanks," he said. "But I can take care of myself."

And she just stared at him in absolute amazement.

( she'd cried out as they'd hit the floor, and he winced as he felt her knee pop beneath his thigh "Sorry,"
he'd mumbled as he'd rolled off of her, "Didn't mean to land on you like that" and she had just stared at him
in absolute disgust )

And before he could say anything else, the lights came on, blinding them all.

"Ungh!" came Hank's voice from the back of the cabin.

"All right, enough!" shouted another voice. "Any of you make another move, and I blow
up Le Prime Ministre, here!"

"Um, verily I doth believe you mean Prime Minis"

"SHUT UP!"

He blinked and cleared the bluriness from his eyes.

Oh. Right. He remembered this.

The floor of the cabin was littered with the unconscious forms of Yellow Bereted
terrorists in their heavy ski jackets. Sitting at the front of the cabin, hog-tied and looking
scared out of their wits, were the Prime Minister and his secretary, Buffy. Both were half-
naked, clad only in the skimpiest of underwear but wearing enough electrical tape and
plastique that barely any skin was showing.

(Fortunately, that which did show were of the body parts approved for display by the
Motion Picture Association, thereby still guaranteeing this storyline a PG rating at worst
which is still pretty cool.)

And standing just to the left of them, the explosive wires trailing to the detonator in his
right hand, was naturally a super-villain. A big, muscular super-villain. With a cheesy
French accent. A tiny little mustache. And a big blue thing on his head. He grabbed hold
of Hank before he could rush forward.

"No!" he snapped. "We can't risk it."

"Forsooth, we can do it, my friends." Hank blinked at him. "With my strength and thy
speed "

"I may still not be fast enough. I'm not exactly sure of my limits, yet."

"SILENCE!" the villain shouted, spittle flying off his mustache.

Keeping her eyes locked squarely on the villain, the Emerald Huntress leaned over, her
face pressed right next to his. He could barely see her, standing next to him as she was
could see only the swath of green spandex, and the short, wavy blonde hair but even this
was enough to cause his heart to slam into his ribcage.

"Friend of yours?" she whispered.

("No," he'd whispered back, extremely conscious of her breath warm against his ear, "I thought he came
with you")

"Not exactly," he said firmly, extremely conscious of her breath warm against his ear.
Suppressing the nervous shudder that threatened to run down his spine, he nodded
towards the villain.

"This here is Fleur De Lit, French-Canadian Villain Extrordinaire."

("Allow me to introduce myself," the villain had leered. "I am Fleur de Lit, French Canadian Villain
Extrordinaire! Surely, you have heard of me?")

"I've been waiting my whole life with baited breath to cross swords with him."

(and he thought about it for a second--honestly thought about it--and for some reason it honestly seemed
like a good idea to say the words Ummmmmm, no')

The villain blinked, surprised.

"Really?" Fleur de Lit asked, his anger forgotten. "You've really heard of me?"

(The villain flushed, his little mustache twitching angrily"You lie," he whisperedthen, taking a deep breath
he screamed "YOU LIE! I AM FLEUR DE LIT, THE MOST FEARFUL VILLAIN NORTH OF THE 49TH
PARALLEL! YOU HAVE HEARD OF ME! YOU HAVE, YOU HAVE, YOU HAVE!")

"Heard of you?" came the answer. "Fleur De Lit, the most fearsome villain north of the
49th Parallel? Pal, when heroes get together and talk about what scares them your name
is the one that come up most often."

"It does?" Hank asked.

"It does?" asked the Emerald Huntress.

And he turned to them both, now, and fixed them with a meaningful gaze.
"It does."

("Ummmmmmmmmnope," he'd repeated, even as the woman in green was elbowing him frantically in the
ribs. "Doesn't ring a bell. Should it? And hey, what is that thing on your head, anyway? A fountain, or
something?")

"Zot!" Fleur de Lit said, positively breathless. "Feared by heroes everywhere! Mon
Dieux, I I I had no idea!"

"But of course," Stephen said in a French accent.

"Mais oui," the Emerald Huntress said flatly.

"Monsieur Tibot, ton pantalons est tres gross," Hank added, working in what little French
he knew.

Fleur de Lit cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Um, je ne suis pas un animal," Hank tried again. "Je suis un homme?"

("'A fountain?'" Fleur de Lit asked, his voice getting really high and squeaky. "A FOUNTAIN? YOU
ANGLOPHONE CRETIN! C'ETTE UNE FLEUR DE LIT, LA SYMBOLE INTERNATIONALE DE LA
PERSONS FRANCOPHONE! THE PROVINCIAL SYMBOL OF QUEBEC! AND THE PROUD BANNER
OF MILITANT SEPERATISTS EVERYWHERE!")

Tears began to run down Fleur de Lit's face, running into his quivering mustache. He
sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, lowering the one in which he held
the detonator.

"Oh, if only my dear mama could see me now! After all this time in the shadows, to have
three heroes cowering at my feet she would be sooooo proud!"

(A moment had passed between them in silence, before Hank had slowly put up his hand."Um," he said to
the villain confusedly, "are you saying it's *not* a fountain, then?")

"Oh yes," the Huntress dead-panned. "Just look at us cower." She leaned over again,
close enough that her hair brushed against his ear. "You better know what you're doing!"
she hissed.

(.and then the villain had stopped twitching, stopped flinching, stopped shoutinghe had simply stood there,
calm as can be, staring at Hankwith a sudden, hearty laugh, he had let all of the tension out of his bodyand
then he had pressed the detonator)

He turned and looked at her really looked at her for the first time since she'd arrived, and
gasped as his breath was snatched from him. Her lips were curled up in that don't know
whether to smile or grimace' way that she had, and her eyes bore into him with equal
parts hope and skepticism
They were still the clearest, deepest blue eyes he'd ever seen in his life. And they tore
right through him into his soul.

He nodded at her slightly, in a way he hoped she interpreted as meaning Trust me, I know
what I'm doing,' before he turned back to the villain.

"In fact, Monsieur ah DeLit," he said, "since we're um obviously outclassed by your um "

" superior Francophone abilities?" the Huntress offered.

"Exactly, since we're obviously outclassed by your superior Francophone abilities my, er,
colleagues and I would like to avoid any unpleasantness andumsurrender."

Hank blinked.

"We would?"

Fleur de Lit blinked as well, just about as surprised as Hank by this turn of events.

"Really?" the villain said, lowering the detonator slightly. " You really want to surrender
to me?"

The Emerald Huntress stiffened next to him her fingers pressed into his forearm, making
him want to jump out of his skin and then he just knew that she'd caught on.

"On only one condition," she said.

DeLit eyed her suspiciously.

"Qu'est-ce c'est?"

The Huntress smiled, batted her gorgeous blue eyes at him, and said with just the right
amount of awe-inspired reverence, "I would just lo-o-o-o-o-ve to have your autograph!"

She stepped forward, producing a pen and a pad seemingly out of nowhere. And as he
watched Fleur de Lit finally finally lower his hands in bewildered joy, let the detonator
drop so he could accept the pad from her, he couldn't help but grin. It had worked this
time! It had honestly worked, just as he'd wished! And this time no one had needed to be
blown up

But as he gazed fondly at the Emerald Huntress as she gazed fondly back at him out of
the corner of her eye he failed to notice Hank slowly putting up his hand.

"Um, as long as you're taking requests, then," Hank said to the villain confusedly, "would
you mind telling me what that thing on your head is? I mean, is it a fountain or
something?"
He felt his heart sink watched as the villain flushed, his little mustache twitching angrily.
"'A fountain?'" Fleur de Lit asked, his voice getting really high and squeaky. "A
FOUNTAIN? YOU ANGLOPHONE CRETIN"

***

(Perhaps it was because he'd known he was going to screw up perhaps it was because he'd felt the need to
look good in front of his new intern or perhaps it was because she was standing next to him

Whatever it was, he'd never moved so fast in his lifeand before de Lit had even begun to press the little
button on the detonator, the Boomerang Fedora was in his hand his most trusted weapon, lately his only
friend, the Fedora had been designed to strike with the force of 50 hats to ricochet endlessly until it
returned to the hand of its owner. It could have knocked Fleur de Lit clear through the back of the plane, if
he'd wished broken his wrist and taken the detonator with it but it was too late for that so instead, he threw
it at the wall and ducked
the fedora bounced off the wall, and came back towards him on a return arc but when he did not catch it, it
bounced off the wall next to his head and sailed back towards the end of the plane towards the prime
minister and his secretary it struck with the combined force and momentum of 100 hats, striking the chains
that bound them that bound the explosives to them one length of chain snapped one row of explosives fell
off the fedora sailed back towards him again again, he did not catch it and again it bounced back towards
the captives at a slightly different angle, aiming for yet another length of chain, this time twice as fast,
striking with the force of 200 hats then 400 then 800 then 1,600 within milliseconds, the fedora was but a
gray blur buzzing around the cabin the floor was littered with discarded plastique the P.M. and his
secretary were sitting there very naked and very confused and Fleur de Lit hadn't finished pressing the
plunger yet!

And then suddenly the others were in action, too Hank shouting "GO LIMP, GOOD SIR!" as he caught the
Prime Minister and his secretary in a protective flying tackle, designed to move them out of harm's way and
the Huntress stealthily silent as she drew her cross bow, pulled a special dart out of her belt, and fired at
the explosives

Fleur de Lit's thumb pressed down as far as it would go

the arrow struck the floor in the middle of the explosives

the button clicked as the detonator was engaged

and suddenly the arrow exploded into a huge shell of white, flexible foam, mere nanoseconds before the
plastique erupted into a fiery ball of destruction! The ball of foam expanded as it contained the explosion,
grew larger and larger buckled began to crack around the edges

and HELD!

.and the fedora had come racing back once more, racing towards him at nearly the speed of sound

and now he had reached up, carefully, with only his index finger extended

and instead of catching it, only nudged it a little enough to change the angle of the ricochet, so that after it
struck the wall over his head, it angled down, bounced up off the floor and headed straight for Fleur de Lit
with the force of 10,000 Hats It was more than enough to kill him. Or so it would have been. As it was, it
knocked that crummy-looking fountain-thing right off his fool head before it crashed up through the ceiling.
It was the force of the backdraft that caused him to fall to the ground
that, and maybe the fact that he had fainted.

and from where they were in the cabin Hank on the floor, poised protectively over top the PM (who was
poised somewhat suggestively over his secretary) Huntress from the wall where she leaned cradling her
knee his new allies looked at him with a new sense of appreciation and he hoped, admiration.

"Ooh," Hank said, staring at the hole in the ceiling. "Someone's gonna be ticked about that!"

"Is that a FOUNTAIN on your HEAD?'" the Huntress snapped angrily. Or maybe not )

***

Of course, none of that mattered now. Because if he thought he'd moved fast before, it
was nothing compared to how fast he could move now!
Fleur de Lit began to press the button and he could feel the other two heroes tensing
around him Hank prepping himself to leap at the Prime Minister and his Secretary-Slash-
Travelling-Companion the Emerald Huntress slipping her crossbow off her shoulder as
she dug a foam-spewing arrow out of her belt.

And then he was moving, faster than either of them could see faster than either of them
could think! He was a violet comet, rushing round and round the captives, ripping the
chains and wires and plastique off of them as quickly as he possibly could, filling his
arms with the explosives even as he listened for the tell-tale click' of Fleur de Lit's button.

And then, once his arms were full, the P.M. and his secretary sat there, very naked and
very confused as he leapt up, up and away tearing a hole through the roof of the plane
and rushing several hundred feet into the air in a single bound. Gathering the explosives
to his chest, he continued to sail higher and higher as he curled himself into the fetal
position, determined to contain as much of it as he could.

Four hundred feet below him, he finally heard the click' of Fleur de Lit's detonator.
And his world exploded in white burst of noise and flame and light

***

His costume was singed as he descended back down through the hole he'd made in the
plane, and his cape was in tatters, but other than that he was none the worse for wear.
He'd passed every test. Strength. Speed. Invulnerability. Flight. Even the enhanced
senses, they were all there. His wish had finally, really come true.

He caught the look in the Emerald Huntress' eyes as he touched down and grinned to
himself. Yes, his wish had come true. Both parts of it.

"Nice work," she said to him as she put the finishing touches on hog-tying a grumbling
Fleur de Lit. (The villain's ugly-fountain-thing had been knocked off, he noticed probably
by his backdraft as he'd crashed through the ceiling. Vaguely he wondered why the man
hadn't fainted.)
"Thanks," he nodded to her. "Actually, I think we all did pretty well for ourselves, interns
included. Right Hank?"

Hank was staring at the hole in the ceiling.

"Ooh," he said, "someone's gonna be ticked about that!"

The Huntress fixed him with a look.

"Is that a FOUNTAIN on your HEAD?'" she snapped. Hank blushed, looked down, and
mumbled something in iambic pentameter.

"Now, now, none of that. Everything turned out for the best, didn't it?"

( "Easy for you to say!" she'd snarled at him. "Nobody landed on you and wrenched your knee!"

"Or put a hole through your ceiling," Hank had added.

"Oh, and here's a friendly little hint!" she'd continued, hobbling over to jab a finger at his chest. "You
never tell the villain you don't know who he is! Never! NEVER!"

"Sorry," he'd said sheepishly. "We were just trying to help."

"Help?' HELP?!? I had this situation PERFECTLY under control before YOU showed up!!")

"Easy for you to say," she smiled at him. "Mr. Invulnerable to large explosions. I doubt
anything that's happened here this afternoon has caused you to work up a sweat!"

He smiled back at her. Good thing she couldn't feel the inside of his palms.

"Thanks for the assist," she continued. "I'm not sure I could have handled all that by my
lonesome."

"No problem," he said easily. "We were just trying to help."

"Help? Are you kidding? You practically stole the show!" She tucked her cross-bow back
over her shoulder, and extended a gloved hand. "Hunter Green," she said by way of
introduction. "You can help me anytime."

("Now I want you to listen, jack-ass, and listen good!" she said as the threw her cross-bow back over her
shoulder and grabbed him by the collar. "My name's Green! Hunter Green! And anytime you see or hear
that name involved with something--anything--I want you to stay the hell away from it, comprende? You
brand of help, I don't need!")

He shifted his hand lightly in her grip, and brought hers up to brush it softly with his lips.

"Miss Green," he said softly, "It has been both an honor and a pleasure."
"Oh, brother," Hank said, rolling his eyes. "It's Thor all over again."

("And just so I can return the favor," she'd snapped, "why don't you tell me who the hell you are, so's I don't
inadvertantly help' you?"

At which point the Fedora had come spinning back through the hole in the ceiling, whizzing towards him
and knocking him in the back of the head, as it had an unfortunate habit of doing. His head jolted forwards
from the impact, his forehead smacking into hers with the sound of two coconuts meeting for the first time.
He'd grinned helplessly at her as he'd bent to retrieve the fedora.

"Um, Hatman," he'd said, gesturing with the fedora as he placed it on his head. "The name's Hatman."

Hank winced. He hadn't noticed he'd put the Fedora on backwards.

"Ha-a-a-a-a-tman," Hunter nodded, committing it to memory. "Thanks," she said flatly. "I'll be sure to
remember that.")

Hunter went a slight shade of pink under her mask at the kiss, and tried to hide her smile
but she did not pull her hand away.

"And what should I call you, oh mysterious man of steel? So I might return the
compliment?"

"Verily it doth not matter,'" Hank said in his best imitation of Thor, "as long as thou dost
call me'"

And he laughed at this not only Hank's joke, but at this, this situation, this moment. It
was everything he could have hoped for everything he had hoped for, in fact. And all
because of one subtle change because now he was who he had always wanted to be who
she had always wanted him to be

Straightening his shoulders, showing off the crest in the middle of his torso, he smiled the
widest smile he'd ever known.

"Superman," he told her happily. "The name's Superman."

"Superman," Hunter nodded, committing it to memory. "I'll have to remember that ..."

Chapter Twenty-Six: So Close

by Jason

The Djinn Realm.

Kevhron sits alone, wondering when and if the Pantheon would make their wishes so
they could just go home. So far, only Grendel had wished himself back to J Street.

Then
"Are we there yet?"

"Almost. Patience."

A portal began to open up.

"JASON?"

"KEV! Oh man! Am I glad to see you! Jeannie! We hit pay dirt!"

"Still cannot believe you talked me into doing this!"

"It's for the best! Once the Pantheon's back, everything will be back to normal!"

"Jason, I don't believe this. How?"

"Well, Kev, Jeannie helped open the portal, and I'm using the ring to hold it up."

"GUYS! WE'RE MOVING OUT!"

As the remnants of the Pantheon ran for the entrance way, The Scarlet Rob flew in.

"HEEEELLLLLPPPPP!"

He collided with Jason, who bumped into Jeannie, and they fell back into the portal!

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooo!"

Before the Pantheon could react, the portal slammed shut.

J Street.

"Jeannie? You OK?"

"A little woozy. I must rest."

"No problem. We'll get 'em out. And Jeannie? Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Chapter 27: Too close for comfort

by Joe Grendel

Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill
Grendel looked up from his copy of Pantheon Colors.

"Oh, you're back. And, what a surprise, you didn't succeed."

"Shut up."

"Yessir, Mr. Mayor. Say, did you really intentionally screw up Stephen's campaign so you
could be mayor?"

"That's a work of fiction!"

"Sure, sure. Nobody will connect 'Jason Borealis' with 'Jason Borelli.' It's a roman a clef.
I thought you were a college boy."

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me if you were the one who wrote it, 'Beau Beowulf.'"

Grendel sneered at the Green Lantern.

"Don't look at me, Sparky: I'm no writer."

Jeannie dusted herself off, and flounced off to the kitchen.

Jason cracked his knuckles loudly and waved an angry finger under the bartender's nose.

"I've got half a mind to close you down "

"That's half a mind more than I thought you had."

"SHUT UP! I'm the mayor, here, dammit, and I'm the greatest hero remaining on J Street
uh oh."

He looked at his hand.

"This isn't possible."

Grendel raised an eyebrow. Had Borelli finally lost it?

"MY RING? WHERE IS IT?"

Grendel sighed. Yep, this was the big freak-out.

"It's on your hand, stupid."

("Where did you last see it, stupid?" Jason heard.)

"I used it to get to the Djinn Wish Realm "

"And you still have it!"

("You must have left it!")

At a booth on the opposite side of the bar, Mindbender removed his baseball cap and
walked over behind Borelli.

"He can't hear you, Joe. I control all his sensory information. He thinks his ring is gone."
He hit Borelli over the back of the head with an empty beer bottle, knocking him
unconscious. He reached down and removed the ring. "And now he's right."

Mindbender tossed the ring over his shoulder. Dark Jason faded in, caught it in mid-air
and put it on. Grendel felt around under the bar for his pistol. Dark Jason aimed the ring
at Jason and blasted him. The Green Lantern vanished. Pulling his pistol and lowering it
at Mindbender, Grendel snapped at Dark Jason.

"What did you do with him?"

"Why, I sent him to be with the Pantheon, wherever they may be. The ring remembered
their location and teleported him there." Dark Jason grinned. "Once we kill off Starr and
his buddies, and those three new heroes, J Street will belong to supervillains again. Don't
worry, no hard feelings toward you. I would have killed Nemesis if you hadn't."

Dark Jason teleported away. Grendel turned toward Mindbender, but wasn't surprised to
find him gone.

"Oh, boy."

Chapter Twenty-Eight:
The triumphant return of Spaceman Spiff
by Spaceman Spiff

The bar shudders, and the bottles of whiskey behind Grendel starts to shake violently.
The mirror behind the bar begins to shimmer with an unearthly light. Grendel shakes his
head and ducks rapidly under the bar as the patrons look on with fearful apprehension.

Suddenly, the mirror bends impossibly, stretching to the breaking point. As the patrons
duck under their tables a man-like form spews forth from the mirror, crashing across the
bar, rolling to the floor. Grendel peers cautiously over the bar, looking back at the mirror,
the slightest hint of fear visible in his blue eyes. A hand reaches up above the bar as a
shaky voice calls, "Beer me, Joe. I think I really need one!"

A grin spreads across Grendel's face as he reaches down into a cooler and grabs a Graat
beer from the planet Grook, that he has kept in reserve for the last few years. Placing the
beer in the now-impatient hand. The hand and the beer disappear behind the bar. A few
seconds later the hand and the now empty bottle appear again. Grendel takes the bottle
and replaces it with a new one. Shortly thereafter Spiff stands up, grins at Grendel looks
toward the mirror and ducks back down behind the bar.

The mirror stretches again, four very large objects fly through, narrowly missing
Grendel's head. Grendel reaches behind the bar coming up with a pistol, until he realizes
the objects are Spiff's personal belongings.

"Kicked out again, eh?"

"Yeah, yet again, I find myself out of a home. Too bad, she really was the best-looking
one yet."

"Best looking, hell she was green."

"She was not green!" Spiff looked upset. "She was olive-colored. And I thought she was
cute."

"What happened, or should I ask?" Grendel inquired.

"Well, things were going well. We were getting along just fine. Then her sister came
over."

"The blue one?"

"No, the purple one. I saw her and fell in love."

"Stop. That is all I need to know. Welcome back Spiff, it's been awhile."

"Thanks, Joe." Spiff finished his beer, placed the bottle on the counter and gathered up
the bags. "I have to go find a room. I'll be back in a bit to catch up. Talk at you later."

"Take care."

"If you see the Flrok, tell her you haven't seen me, OK?"

"OK," Grendel grinned broadly as Spiff weaves his way out door.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: That darn mirror

by Joe Grendel

Grendel leaned against the bar, looking up at the mirror above the fish tank.
Why, oh why, did I install a dimension portal mirror in here? Sure, at the Point Zero Bar,
it was practical, but J Street is one big dimensional nexus. He sighed. Sentimentality.
You'd think I was Hatman or somebody.

He listened with half an ear to a group of cartoon characters, Looney Tunes extras, wave
their copies of Pantheon Colors and debate the merits of impeaching Mayor Jason
Borelli.

I forgot to ask Spiff if he's seen Niwanda recently

Chapter Thirty: Not much

by JYu

The Djinn Realm.

Was there any point to his feeling sorry for himself?

JYu had been hesitant to make a wish, all the while afraid that it'd end up being
something he wouldn't enjoy, or would just plain regret.

He'd like to be able to wish for something like a million dollars, but what would he do
with all the money? Place it in the bank, wait for inflation and taxes to render it all
useless.

Right.

Or maybe he'd have wished to be able to talk to and get to know Molly, that girl he'd met
in tenth grade, yet lacked the balls to actually do anything with aside from sit next to her
in French class.

That was an idea. Send himself back in time a few years to be able to kindle the
relationship which he'd didn't have the nerve to attempt back then. The camping and
canoeing trip in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey would have been a good time, perhaps.
For some reason, that period remained in his mind as one in which he and Molly were the
closest.

Of course, their actual relationship never extended beyond her telling him, only half-
seriously, to stop picking all the M&M's out of the Sunburst Mix, or the secret knowledge
they shared of a red-hot fragment of an ember flying out of the campfire and landing on
their instructor's shoe. But to someone as pathetic as himself, it made little difference.
And as long as it was important to himself, that was all that mattered. She was someone
special.

And for a while, he actually thought that they would be on their way to becoming friends.
Had he actually taken a more active part in nurturing their friendship, other than just
going to French class for the sole purpose of seeing her, perhaps something could have
happened. And now he had the opportunity to do something about this. But then he
realized that this had already been done by someone else. And in the interest of keeping
things varied (as such is indeed, the spice of life), he discarded the idea. And found
himself again with nothing.

He remembered just a few moments ago as he so emphatically encouraged Dom to go

make her wish. Why was it so difficult for him to find something to wish for, himself?
Why was it easier for him to encourage others to go and do so?

Had something like this happened even as late as a year ago, he might have found himself
able to wish. Things had changed since then. He had trouble deciding what to do with his
life, deciding what he wanted. He couldn't find it in himself to work for anything in
particular, or even to wake up in the morning - what was the use? Nothing seemed to
come out right, no matter how hard he tried to make things work. His relationship with
his loved ones wasn't exactly in stellar shape.

He could have wished for something like mended relations with his relatives, but that
would probably fall apart. Again. Like it always did. Had he been in any fouler a mood,
he'd most likely have wished for something like death. Sometimes, it seemed like there
was no other option. It would probably end up saving everyone, including himself, a
whole lot of grief.

But that would be taking the easy way out. There had to be some reason why he was still
alive. And he didn't plan on prematurely ending his existence until he found out what.
Aside from that, however, there was still nothing he wanted to wish for. Consciously, at
least.

And perhaps that was the solution.

He walked away from the others and sat down. All he'd have to do was let his
subconscious wish for him. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts flow. And waited.
And waited some more.

Finally, a cigarette appeared, floating in space. He grabbed it; just the thing he needed to
help him think.

Then he realized with horror that he didn't smoke. How much damage could a single
smoke do, though? It couldn't hurt to try. He placed it between his lips and took a drag.
And then he realized that it wasn't lit. He wished out loud that the cigarette would light.
Moments passed.

Sometime later, he would find himself still sitting there, with an unlit cigarette in his
mouth.
And it was then that he realized that there wasn't a single thing he could do about it,
having already used up his one wish to get the cigarette in the first place.

"The hell with it, " he muttered to himself.

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, flicked it into the clouds, and walked off.

Chapter Thirty-One: Options

by Jason

The Djinn Realm.

"Um Kev?"

"Yeah, Gail?"

"Why is Jason on top of that cloud, staring off into space?"

"He said he'd be meditating. He does it a lot."

"Oh."

Jason's mind wandered.

What do I wish for? Maybe Grendel would lighten up a little? Yeah, right. Maybe the
power to destroy Grendel? Uh uh, then I'll be stuck here forever. Maybe I can go to where
Hank is, and talk him back to J Street. But I don't know where Hank ended up.

"Jason?"

"J'onn?"

"How are you holding up?"

"OK, I guess. I don't have my ring."

"You can wish for it."

"Thought of it. Then I'll be stuck here."

"Maybe you can go back to J Street?"

"With no ring? Buried Allen could kick my butt. Besides, we may not get to wait much
longer."
"Meaning?"

"Before I was thrown in here, I was working on a plan with Jeannie, Barda, and the other
first-stringers. Jeannie's problem was that opening the portal was draining her life-force.
If she tried it again, the attempt would kill her."

"What then?"

"Simple. Lure all the villains into one spot. Jeannie taps into their life-forces. Me and
Kev keep the portal opens, everybody hops out, the bad guys get beat, everybody parties.
But without the ring "

"But what about the people in here? Those who had not made their wish yet?"

"Well, Jeannie told me that by leaving this realm, there would be some residual energy
lingering on those who hadn't wished."

"Meaning that they could made a wish outside the Djinn Realm, and it could come true?"

"For a while. The energy dissipates quickly."

"What about the ring?"

"I have to get it back. I still have the battery here in my backpack, and DJ doesn't need
the ring, seeing how part of him is pure energy. But, yes, I need the ring back. And there's
one more thing "

"What's that?"

"When I get back, me and Joey G are going to have a little talk about his attitude."

Chapter Thirty-Two: Down, But Not Out!

by The Scarlet Rob

The Djinn Realm, moments later:

"Hi, J'onn! Hi, J'ason, I mean, Jason!" The Scarlet Rob greeted his fellow Pantheon
members as he walked yes, walked down from the crest of a cloudhill.

"Scarlet Rob? Last we saw you, you were careening around in the air, screaming for
help!" J'onn exclaimed with mild curiosity.

"Yeah, thanks for blowing my rescue, by the way!" Jason added. "How did you get
down?"
"I take it you've learned to control your new power," J'onn suggested helpfully.

"Well, sort of," TSRob responded. "I was circling the Djinn Realm for about the
hundredth time, when suddenly I had the strangest feeling as though I were actually
redRicky, not The Scarlet Rob. Pretty crazy, huh?"

"To say the least," Jason muttered.

"Anyway, when I started thinking I was redRicky, I started falling! Fortunately, I was
right above Giantmope, so I landed without incident on his shoulder and asked him to put
me down on the ground, which he did."

"Intriguing!" said J'onn, stroking his chin. "It sounds as if your powers are restricted to
your true personality!"

"Intriguing? Cheap Doom Patrol rip-off is more like it," Jason muttered.

"Say, do you mean maybe my other personalities will have other powers?" TSRob asked.
"That would be so cool! Right now I can only fade from sight, and fly, and fire super-
heated retorts, which has never actually been explained. Oh, I'm forgetting the ability to
turn intangible, which I gained recently after exposure to a radioactive continuity error!
Wow, I'm almost as powerful as you, J'onn!"

Shyeah, right! J'onn thought, but kindly kept it to himself. Aloud, he said, "Uh, yes, very
nearly! But what about your uncontrollable flight response? It seems you've gone back to
well, let's just say normal, for lack of a better term but you're earthbound uh, that is,
Realmbound."

"Oh, well, it turns out I can control the up and down part real easily" TSRob explained. "I
just need to concentrate. When I was zooming around the stratosphere I really couldn't
focus, but now "

The Scarlet Rob squinted a bit, like the irritating guy on "Third Rock from the Sun", and
suddenly floated up a few feet in the air, where he hovered, maintaining a slight, gentle
side-to-side movement in the breeze.

"I'm not really able to control my direction yet, but I figure that'll just take practice." With
those words, TSRob rose up to just above J'onn and Jason's heads, jerked backwards
several feet, stopped suddenly, reddened, then wafted forward over their heads, slowly
and rather shakily, to disappear over the next cloudhill.

Jason looked skeptical.

"You know, I just realized: TSRob never said anything when I asked everybody when
they got their driver's licenses."
J'onn let this observation sink in, then his dark eyes bulged from beneath his enormous
brow.

"God help us!" he sighed.

Chapter Thirty-Three: When He's a She,

She's Quite a Fella!
by The Mighty Hank!

Meanwhile

He (well, she, technically), had been at this for a few years now. SURE, the perks of
being a child star were nice.

You got your own dressing room, people catered to your every wish, you learned to walk
on the wild side, and the FANS!

But, of course, there was a DOWNSIDE to fame and fortune

You got your own dressing room, people catered to your every wish, you learned to walk
on the wild side, and the FANS!

The FANS never, ever leave you alone.

The red-headed girl in the Viking warrior clothing turned away from the hotel window,
lost in thought. The wish had been so long ago, she'd nearly forgotten that she was a man
at heart.

It wasn't until that creepy Jerry DelGato had put his hands on her in a suggestive way
AND put his tongue into her ear that she remembered, fully, that she was a he.

Not that there was anything wrong with that.

The Mighty Hank! looked at himself in the mirror. He'd been trapped in this body, in this
life, for seven years now. Instead of being a twenty-something Viking SuperHero, he was
now a teen-aged child star, living on the edge.

And all that he'd wanted, REALLY, was to sing a song that he thought was sort of nice
that a Valkyrie used to sing to him in Asgaard. He remembered that the Valkyrie would
always sing, "The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow," every time it looked like Ragnarok
was approaching. But, then, Odin would just tell everyone that it was another drill, and
things would go back to normal.

All that he'd wanted, REALLY, was to sing

Instead, he got this.

Hank adjusted his boobs, and took a swig of tequila.

And, as he looked at the crowds below, all clamoring for a glimpse of him, er, uh, her, He
(well, she, whatever) thought, Y'know, it really IS a hard knock life

Hank took another drink, then grabbed a phone. Maybe HE had some sort of magic that
could get him out of this mess. He is a weird little guy, after all. Hank dialed the phone. It
rang.

"Hello? Bubbles? Put Michael on, I need a favor "

Chapter Thirty-Four: You got some explainin' to do, buddy!

by Joe Grendel

Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill

"You've got some explainin' to do, buddy!" The vein in the middle of Marital Bliss'
forehead pulsed and throbbed. "Normally, I don't give anything that Borelli says a second
thought, but when Jeannie says she saw my snuggle bunny Well, aren't you going to say
anything?"

"Uh, Mari?" Miracle put a hand on his forearm. "You've cut off his airway. He can't
breathe, much less speak."

"Oh." She opened her hand, and Grendel slumped to the floor, blue in the face. He gasped
in air like, well, like a guy who hasn't breathed for five minutes.

"Well," he said at last, keeping an eye on Marital Bliss' pistol hand, "Jeannie was right:
They are alive, trapped in the Wish Realm, last time I saw them."

"So why didn't you say so all along, you blonde weasel?"

Grendel rubbed his neck, trying to get the circulation going again.

"I thought I had your best interests at heart. Everyone in the Pantheon not to mention
the Minutemen making wishes let's just say I was worried there might be some sort of
paradox or worse. I didn't want to get your hopes up when, say, a random wish by Mope
might wipe the whole Pantheon out of existence." He glowered as only a man thwarted
by a Green Lantern can. "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for that
darn kid, Jason Borelli."

"So," Barda said after a moment, "Everyone was alive?"

"Last time I saw them."

"And no one had made any wishes before you cut out?"

"Uh I think Stephen did. I'm not sure what he wished for, he just vanished. He didn't
appear back here, so I don't know what's happened." Attempting a look of wounded pride,
he glared at Marital Bliss, standing up and dusting his shirt off. "Which is exactly why I
didn't say anything."

"Fine." Marital Bliss, Barda and Miracle turn away, heading toward the door, before Mari
suddenly turns, pasting Grendel with a wicked left cross, which sends him sprawling.
"Jerk."

In a moment of unusual restraint, Grendel feigns unconsciousness and lets them all leave.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Death of an Aquaman, part one

by Aquaman!

The Djinn Realm.

Aquaman closes his eyes and makes his wish, praying that he does the right thing.

He vanishes from the rest of the group, reappearing in an office building, wearing a nice
gray suit and holding a briefcase. He runs down a flight of stairs. He looks at his watch
and inexplicably starts crying. When he reaches the end of a hallway, he wipes his tears
and opens a large door with the words "William Sherman, President" printed on it.

"Dad?"

"Paul, I told you not to come in late anymore. Do you realize that those contracts are not
going to sign themselves? That you actually have to attend the meetings with the clients?"

"Yeah, Dad, I do."

"Well, why the hell couldn't you make it in today? The hangover too much for you again?
You little "

"Dad, I'm sorry. I-I just don't think I'm cut out to be a salesman. I-I was meant for
something more."

"Oh, so doing what your old man does isn't good enough for the 'Great Paul Sherman,' is
it? Punk! I try to bring you up right after your mother dies, try to give you a decent job,
and you throw it right back in my face!"

"Dad, listen it's not like that "

Just then, Aq Paul's memories of his other life return to him. He remembers being
Aquaman. He remembers what he wished for in the Djinn Realm. He had wished that his
father hadn't died when he was eight.

Now, his father was railing on him.

Why?

Chapter Thirty-Six: A Tragic End

by The Jester

The members of the Pantheon were gathering for dinner again. Mmmm, big dinner for
all.

"Where's Jester?" Amazon asked.

"Who cares? He's a jerk!" Borelli was obviously still angry about the "Cosmic Whoopie
Cushion" incident.

Suddenly, the Jester appeared. He was pale. No one had ever seen him quite like this.

"I've I've come to a decision."

"What is it, Joe?"

"I know what I'm going to wish for. For what I'm going to wish. Damn prepositions."

"Spill it, DaDamerican!"

"I wish I wish I WISH I WERE DEAD!" and the Jester dropped right there.

"DEAR LORD!" kevrhon screamed.

"HOLY $#*%!"

"GREAT HERA!"

"NO!"

The entire Pantheon was shocked. Borelli began to shed tears.

"Is he really why?"

Suddenly the Jester jumped up and laughed.

"Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaa! Gotcha! Oh, man! You really think I'd
wish for death?"

"Whawhat was your wish?"

"Not tellin'. Maybe later. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaa!"

There was a slight pause.

"GET HIM!"

And the Pantheon yet again chased after the Jester.

***

"Quick! Top 10 reasons I shouldn't kick your @$$! Too late!" Buried Alien wailed on the
crooks robbing the bank. In a few seconds, his speed brought him to Grendel's.

"See Borelli?" The Temporary Guy asked.

"Nope. I've got 10 good places he might have gone. Number 10: In the green latrine.
Number nine: Exercizing his willpower if ya know what I mean "

"He's in the Djinn realm. Dark Jason sent him there. Can't imagine him getting HIS wish .
. .probably wants to finally one-up me. Never happen."

"So!! He's!! Gone!! For!! Now!!"

"The New Pantheon doesn't need him. Let's go guys."

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Origin of the Avatar

by Joe Gallagher

"So," asked Samarallagher, "How are they doing?"

JoeBat, to whom the question was addressed, swooped down.

"Not too bad. Jester just wished for death, Grendel disappeared, JYu's enjoying a smoke,
and mope's well, I don't know how to describe mope. But I'd say about half of the
Pantheoneers have made or are soon going to make their wishes."

"So, we should probably think about making our own wish for the Joe Corps," said
Samarallagher. The five representations of Joe Gallagher looked at each other, each
pondering the fact that the fate of the Joe Corps rested in their hands. Samarallagher,
from
the Astjoeverse. JoeBat, from GallaGotham. Capt. Joevel, who had just Shazamed into
Joey Batson. Metallagher, from one of the Superman Elseworlds. And finally Joe
Borelligher, a Green Lantern from some universe or another. Borelligher was the first to
speak:

"Um, maybe we should wish for a way out of here."

"I doubt it," said Samarallagher. "I think that if we wait long enough another Pantheon
member will figure a way out, or may wish us all out. We've got a unique opportunity
here, gentleman, and I think we should use it. Any ideas?"

"I say we wish for omnipotence. The five of us split the wish, go back to our universes,
and raise a little hell."

"No, Metallagher, that just ain't happening. The five of us can't be omnipotent at once
without eventually having to fight. Remember what happened to Parralaxagher?"

"This time it'll be different. This time we'll be in control."

"No way. What we've got to wish for is "

Joey Batson walked away. He supposed that he could say the magic word and transform
back into Capt. Joevel, but even as his superhero alter ego, arguing always gave him a
headache. He watched as the Pantheon chased after a protesting Jester, then overheard a
familiar name from behind him:

" the Joe Gallagher Avatar would know what to do."

"The Avatar? Why don't we ask the tooth fairy? I'd believe in her before I believe in that
old story."

"Hey, there is an Avatar. I was talking to Joe Magoglagher the other day, and he said that
just the other day he'd talked to a man who'd been to Gallagher City."

"Listen to yourself. You talked to a Joe who talked to a guy who'd been to Gallagher
City? It's a myth. There is no Avatar. It's up to us to wish the future of the Joe Corps."

"We don't know that. The wish may not exist outside of this realm. It may only apply to
the five of us."

"That's not exactly true. If it did only exist in this realm, we'd probably all get our own
wish. I think this wish is so important that we only get one shot at it. So what's it going to
be?"

And as the four members of the infinite Joe Corps fell back to their debate, Joey Batson
looked at the sky. He pondered the idea of an Avatar: a single Joe Gallagher that could
oversee all the others. One Joe Gallagher who could take charge of the infinite, divisive,
and uncontrollable Joe Corps. And without even thinking, Joey Batson said under his
breath:

"I wish there actually was a Joe Gallagher Avatar."

The five Joes all looked around in unison as the earth shook slightly, and they heard the
distant echo of thunder as the wish rippled out from the Djinn realm to the furthest
possible realities. They all fell silent for a moment, and then the four Joes resumed their
debate as Joey Batson looked up in the sky.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: The doo-doo hits the fan.

by Joe Grendel

J Street.

Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill

"So," Buried Alien swirled his glass, making the ice cubes whirl about inside, "You've
been through several retconns the Moebius Strip, Malvolio's attempt to conquer the
world, the Crisis on Marvel Earth, various Reverse Hat schemes do you remember all of
them?"

"No one remembers all of them," Grendel said, as he chopped limes, "Well, except for
Borelli. He sometimes even has problems remembering who exists and who doesn't. The
rest of us just block out the old memories, and they don't interfere with day-to-day life."

Jeannie floated into the room on a cushion of pink cloud.

"Buried," she said, an incongruous western accent to her voice, "Does Mari have a plan
on how to bust the Pantheon and Minutemen out of the Djinn Wish Realm?"

"Sure. The New Pantheon we decided against the Pantheon of Substitute Heroes will kick
Dark Jason's butt, take his ring, use it to find out the exact coordinates of the realm,
program them into a boom tube, then Miracle and Barda will rescue everyone."

There was a massive explosion down the street. Buried zipped over to the doorway.

"Great Shades of Hal Jordan!" He shot down the street at the speeeeed of sound, Jeannie
teleporting after him.

"Two problems with that plan," Grendel said aloud to the now-empty bar. "First, Dark
Jason's using a now-depleted ring, running it off his internal supply of Green Lantern
energy. Miracle won't be able to get the coordinates from a dead ring."
Another explosion, one that sounded like Marital Bliss' tower might well be rubble now,
echoed down the street.

"Secondly, Dark Jason has a team of about 18 super-villains on his side. The New
Pantheon is outnumbered and outclassed."

Smoke from the tower wafted past the bar's windows, along with the screams of innocent
bystanders.

Grendel sighed.

"This is not good for business."

Chapter Thirty-Nine: In Fabulous JonahVision!

by Jason

The Satellite.

There, Jonah, Monitor of Us All, sits, munching Cheet-os, watching several screens.

"Hmm, wonder what Hat's up to "

He sees Stephen Cmelak fight off terrorists.

"Now, I know. Last time I show scenes to Jason beforehand. I thought it was a TimeCop
thing, not Quantum Leap. What's on channel 7, again?"

Aquaman faces down his father.

"Should be good for a while. What about DjinnTV?"

The Djinn Realm is shown. Varied scenes of Pantheoners.

"Oh. Jason made a new friend. Just turn the volume up a bit."

"So, Jason," wondered Dom aloud. "What's the deal with the rest of the Pantheon?"

"Hatman: The franchise, whether he knows it or not. Hank: lovable lunk. Kinda hard to
get close to."

"Is he a hard @$$?"

"Nah. Gas problems."

"What about Grendel?"

"Oy. That one gives me a pain. He's so cold, penguins follow him. J'Onn once scanned
his mind, and he turned a wintergreen color."

Dom laughs.

"That bad. What about you?"

"Godlike power, neurotic personality. I've been trying to figure out a way to get back to J
Street, get my ring back, and defeat Dark Jason once and for all."

"How's that going?"

"Not well. Every scenario I've run in my head ends up screwing up. Even the one where I
wish for god-like power."

"How does that go?"

"I defeat our enemies, I go nuts, call myself Jayallex or something, and the Pantheon kills
me."

"Hm. How do you get away with saying the W-word? Without anything happening?"

"Kev caught that. He says I'm so used to getting wishes granted via my ring, it's a lot
harder now. An idle whim can't do it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Wait and hope Jeannie pulls off my plan. What about you? What's your story?"

"Well "

"Hmm," Jonah leaned forward in his seat. "About this time, the bad guys should be
plotting the Pantheon's demise. Better change it to the J Street Network "

"How goes the battle?"

"Not good, DJ. Dark Timmy has returned, and so has Green Arrow."

"Well, gang, looks like we have to mount a full attack."

The villains stared at Dark Jason.

"Everybody must die," he continued. "The Pantheon is in limbo, and this is the best
chance to annihilate the subs."

"Good plan. Nice. Simple."

"Thank you, Mindbender. One more thing. Joe Grendel is mine to kill."

Silence.

"Um DJ? Grendel's a tough guy. Do you think you could"

Piledriver's words are cut off as Dark Jason breaks his neck.

"As. I. Was. Saying. Grendel may have been immune to Jason's ring, but he is vulnerable
to MY power. I will make an example of him. I will BREAK HIM! Nemesis may not
have had the cajones to do it, but I do! I will be Grendel's Nemesis! I WILL DESTROY
THE PANTHEON!"

The villains roared their approval.

"Man. Hope the Pantheon can end this quickly "

Chapter Forty: Death of an Aquaman, part two

by Aquaman!

Fade in on a bowling alley.

That is, Aquaman's memory fades in. He's had trouble with his wish so far, as he can't
always remember his other life. Isn't that the way it should be when you get your fondest
wish?

He had wished that his father had never died as a result of the stroke he had when Aq was
eight. By some bizarre twist of fate, his mother had instead died not long after his father's
recovery.

Paul had returned to the bowling alley where his father had had the stroke. He was about
to roll one when his memories of his other life returned. He was only a few lanes away
from where his dad had collapsed.

He remembered the day. It was June 9, 1985. Paul had just finished his chores when his
dad poked his head in the room.

"Ya ready to go, Tiger?"

"Where to, dad?

"I figured since you finished up your stuff early, we could go over to the Super Bowl.
Wanna?"

"YEAH!"
So they did, and they had a pretty good time, too. That is, until the collapse.

William Sherman, Jr. was pronounced dead at the scene.

But Paul now remembers it differently. They rode to the hospital in an ambulance. Paul's
first ambulance ride. Big deal, his daddy's lying there on a gurney, clutching the back of
his neck, where they later discovered he had an aneurysm. Paul's mom met them at the
hospital.

"What happened, Paul?"

"I-I don't know. He just fell down. Then some guy said we better call for an ambulance.
What's wrong with him, mom?"

"It it's probably nothing, hon. He'll be all right."

But Paul knew she was lying. Her lie was confirmed when his dad woke up two days
later. He was blind, and he couldn't remember anything.

The next few months were spent helping along with the recovery. Willie's eyesight
eventually returned, and he remembered most of his life up until just a few months after
Paul was born.

"Paul, you're still my son, and I love you." He told him. But he couldn't even remember
him!

Taking care of the father and the son put quite a burden on the mother. The stress was
unimaginable. Trying to reteach Willie everything he knew took its toll on her. She died
shortly thereafter.

This put William into a a "snit". He was bitter, and he didn't know what to do with
himself. So, he threw himself into his work. He didn't stop until he owned and ran the
company that he had once been a salesman for.

The only thing he had time to teach his son was sales, the only thing Paul didn't want to
learn about.

Flash forward to the bowling alley.

As Aquaman rolled a strike, he relished having two hands again. Then, he realized what
he had to do. The only way this wish was going to work out for him was if he could

Do what? Paul couldn't remember what he was thinking about. He returned to his usual,
angst-ridden self.
What am I doing making a pretentious, begging fool out of myself? What am I doing in
an office, exactly where I don't want to be, when all I want in life is waiting for me, the
minute I say I know who I am? Why can't I say that?

Chapter Forty-One: The Living Mopelith Attacks!

by Mope

Wishes-were-Horses-Universe
Djinn Earth
400 Miles from Earth, in Orbit

Today, the planet Earth of this dimension has two major orbiting bodies. One is the
quiet serenity that is the Moon; the other isn't. Little has changed on the Moon of this
world, as this Djinn Earth has no native Mankind that might have ever visited it. Nothing
has happened here until today. If there *were* footprints on this dimension's moon,
then maybe they would be affected by the growing vibration on the Moon as moondust
that has gone untouched smears into a shaking mess. That other orbiting body just
moved.

If one of the Pantheon members was in space right now, they might have noticed the
swarming Octupoid attack fighters swarming in and out of Earth space searching.
Very lucky for the Pantheon is the fact that this Octupoid race has no concept of the
word "wish" so they cannot use the wish-granting abilities of this earth. As the Octupoid
fighters ascend back into orbit after a ground sweep, they return to their

Well, "Mother Ship" isn't the right word. "Mother Mope" might be a better term.

If a member of the Pantheon was in space right now, that's what they might say. The
object that the Octupoid fighters returned to was apparently a 400 mile long Mope,
covered with technology, ship-docks; upon extreme inspection one would even find
plant-life and a natural atomsphere and lakes in which the Octupoids now lived.

So, the Octupoid fighters search and search and search...

***

OK, so the Octupoids eventually find the Pantheon.

J'onn is the first to spot them. They appeared at first to be just a flock of birds flying
across the sky, until J'onn realized the "flock" seemed to just keep coming and coming...
Who ever heard of a flock of birds with 5,000 birds visible? Detecting trouble, J'onn
quickly rounded up the Pantheon psionically.

Soon all Pantheon eyes were on the sky. The Octupoid swarm quickly reached the
middle of the sky immediately above them as the thousands of alien ships reached a
point directly above the Pantheon, the ships began to swish and swirl in a
toilet-bowl-in-the-sky $3-million-effect kind of way. Nasty looking energy began to
manifest as the clouds in the sky disappeared as the twisting vortex of alien energy and
plasma grew; casting an eerie twilight on the land.

Directly below all this, the Pantheon stood. All of this had happened so quickly, that no
Pantheon member had a chance to even consider challenging the Octupoid hordes. Now
it appeared some nasty destruction was on the way. And it all seemed so mysterious to
all Pantheon members present but one.

Mope had been watching the Octupoid hordes gather quietly. He could sense that it was
he they were really after. Somewhere in his collective memory, he remembered the
death-hunt the Octupoids had carried out on the Faux-Mopes. And Mope knew how to
end it all.

Just then, J'onn, Kevhron, Red Ricky, Scarlett Rob and many others began to take to
flight to meet the aliens head-on.

Mope: STOP!

The stunned Pantheon members looked down to the wee Atom standing on a stump.
Mope increased his size to about 100 feet tall so the could talk to the flying Pantheon
members face-to-face.

Mope: I know what to do. They're here for me. Listen, everybody! You have to teleport
out of here immediately. Get at least a hundred miles from here NOW! (Kevhron
morphed into his alter-ego of Dr. Fate)

Dr. Fate swished his cape and all the Pantheon blinked out into the ether, all but Fate.

Fate: Mope, what are you going to do?

Mope (coming back to regular-person size, and pulling out a small marble-sized
white-shiny-looking marble.): This one little bit of myself is all I need to solve this. This
isn't even one millionth of my potential mass but it'll end this whole saga easily. Wish me
luck.

Fate blinks out to join the other Pantheon members.

Mope stands now alone. A ball of swirling energy has now gathered above Mope,
pulsing, looking ready to attack him.

Mope looks up and tosses the marble lightly in the air. It comes to a hover just above
Mope's head, floating and bobbing like iron caught in a magnetic field. With a smirk,
Mope took flight, flying straight up towards the energy ball and the fleet. The marble
flew
with Mope, positioned just in front of Mope's fingers as he ascends into the sky
looking for all the world like a missile carrying a nuclear warhead

BA-BOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!

***

A hundred miles away, the Pantheon sees the distant alien horde and their resultant
energy attack split in half by a streaking white flash. Dr. Fate reflexively throws up a
protective barrier against the potential blast. (there isn't one). A mushroom cloud
appears where the alien horde once flew. And far above, in the evening sky, another
flash appears. For a brief time, some of the Pantheon members swear they see a
massive Mope floating in the sky, only to see him come crashing into the dawning
Moon's surface.

Drew101: Whoa.

Chapter Forty-Two: Out goes the Green Lantern

by Joe Grendel

J Street.

"I never thought I would hear a lecture on the merchant's responsibility to the community
from you, my friend."

"Tell me about it, Abdul Aziz." Grendel buckled the metallic belt about his waist. "So,
this is set for a 30 second delay?"

"Aiwa. Don't be standing in the same place 30 seconds after you've made your little
speech."

"Kwaayis. Don't worry: I don't intend on getting killed. It's just that Dark Jason will tear
this street apart at this rate. And there's no profit in that for us."

***

The ruins of kevrhon and Marital Bliss' tower.

Elastic was still alive, but spread in a thin layer across the street. Dark Jason had been
relatively gentle with him. Satellite was in several, non-functional chunks.

Thunderbolt could see out of only one eye, the one unobstructed by the blood pumping
from his head wound, and he flung lightning at the supervillains.
"Where's? The? Pantheon?" Snap!!Man screamed, as he attempted to rip the helmet off
Amon-Ra's head. "We! Can't! Take! Much! More! Of! This!"

Barda's megarod blew Saffron off of a delirious Temporary Guy.

"Keep fighting, we can't let them win."

Dark Jason laughed, scooping up a block's worth of asphalt with his ring, holding it over
the New Pantheon's heads.

"Prepare to die, suckers!"

"Oh, shut up, peachfuzz."

A deadly silence came over the street (broken only by Buried Alien's "You guys have nice
costumes! In ranking order, my 10 favorite are " and an exasperated Ricochet's "SHUT
UP!"). Dark Jason rotated in space, looking up the street.

"Grendel?"

"Ooh, Dark Jason. Very scary. Half the imperfect clone of Mr. Inferiority Complex
Borelli and half the negative side of 'Why Aren't I In Therapy Boy?'"

Marital Bliss limped to her feet.

"Is he trying to get killed?" she whispered to Miracle.

"I don't think so. Look at Dark Jason's reaction."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"I mean," Grendel continued on, apparently oblivious, "If you're an imperfect copy of a
screw-up, how is it that you're going to be able to accomplish anything?"

Dark Jason slammed the asphalt down atop Grendel. When he lifted it, Grendel still stood
there, a scornful look on his face.

"Dork." He flipped Dark Jason the finger, then turned on his heel and walked down the
street to his right.

"COME BACK HERE!" Dark Jason soared after him.

The villains and the New Pantheon looked at one another.

"It occurs to me," Barda said, hefting her megarod, "That we're about evenly matched,
now that he's gone. ATTACK!"
 ***

Elsewhen.

The sensors buried beneath the gray soil reacted almost immediately. Signals were sent,
armored figures, attack ships and drone robots were scrambled.

Grendel leaped quickly into a small ravine, laying flat as possible, listening for his
pursuer.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Dark Jason's voice was similar to Jason's, only more hoarse, more
strident, if that was possible. "I'LL DESTROY YOU, YOU LITTLE WORM!"

"No, you won't," Grendel muttered, ignoring the gray dust coating his body, sticking to
his lips.

There was a satisfying explosion, followed by several more in rapid succession. Glancing
over his shoulder, Grendel saw a golden armada streak through the skies, hammering
Dark Jason with anti-energy weapons.

After about 20 minutes, things settled down, and he levered himself out of his hiding
place. The belt had long since used up its charge and his image and sound was once again
aligned with his true point in time and space.

Dark Jason, bloody and barely alive, was entombed in golden rock, only his head free of
his entrapment. Golden robots surrounded him, and a group of red-skinned, bug-eyed
men and women were busy placing his ring into a storage vessel.

Grendel walked past them, up to Dark Jason, and planted a wet kiss on his forehead.

"Screw up."

"What the [bad word] happened? Where are we?"

"You chump. This is Qward. Don't worry, I imagine the Weaponmasters will explain
everything to you, before they torture you to death."

Turning again on his heel, Grendel marched off toward the dimensional weak spot they'd
entered through, dusting himself off as he went.

"GREEEEEEENDELLLLLLL!"

Chapter Forty-Three: Death of an Aquaman, part 3

by Aquaman!
Aquaman was bound and determined to set things right. All he had to do was fix things
with his father. That would be the best he could make out of his wish.

But, then, he couldn't remember to do that. And then, he could. Again, he couldn't
remember. It was a very disorienting way to go through life. One minute, Aquaman could
think of nothing better than making up with his daddy. The next, all he wanted to do was
run away. It's no wonder that he turned to alcohol in both of his lives.

Aquaman had stopped that. Sobered himself up. It doesn't do for a super-hero/college
student/reporter to be passed out, or throwing up, or just plain sloshed all the time. Aq
was proud of himself for changing that.

But that didn't really matter, because when he found himself forgetting, Paul would just
head straight to the nearest bar to drown himself. This didn't help the situation.

And BOOM, he would remember again. He now had two directives: One, sober himself
up, and two, make it right with his dad.

He decided to go home and sleep for the rest of the afternoon today, though, because he
wouldn't get very far with Willie in his current condition.

***

The next day, AQ woke up around ten o'clock. He fixed himself some toast and
remembered the time where he lost it and attacked all his friends.

"Evil Aq", they called him. They all had such an easy time with it. Like your friends just
turn evil every day. J'onn had even killed him! He still hadn't gotten over that. He
shuddered. He thought of all the things he did. He was forced to do them, though, right?
It was some mystical presence involved with B'Harney that possessed him, right? He
tried to
think about it. Tried to remember what was going through his head while he committed
his heinous acts.

And, then, he did remember.

***

The office of William Sherman, Jr.

"All right, 'Dad'! I want the truth! Out with it!"

"Paul, what are you talking about? And second, what is that you're wearing? Oh, never
mind. Can't this wait? I have a meeting and OMIGOD! What is that thing?"
"What, this little hook? Oh, it's just a part of me that I missed. I'm not going to hurt you
with it, Dad!"

"Yeah, right. What's wrong with you? Are you crazy? What happened to your hand?"

"Never mind about that now I came for information."

"Wh-what sort of information?" Willie said, as he began to tremble.

"I want to know who my real parents are."

Chapter Forty-Four: Ah, to be young again.

by kevrhon

For a brief time, some of the Pantheon members swear they see a massive Mope
floating in the sky, only to see him come crashing into the dawning Moon's surface.

kevrhon was uneasy with his warnings to the Pantheon. His admonition suggesting the
hard truth of the axiom that began "Be careful what you wish for " still rang in his ears. In
most cases, his fears were coming to pass. They had just witnesses (survived?) the
latest example.

But the uneasy feeling was also due to a guilty conscience. kevrhon as Dr. Fate was
well versed in a fair number of mystical and otherworldly powers, and commanded
forces beyond the understanding of most. But the power to have a wish granted, just like
that, was beyond his abilities. It was a tempting fruit. And he did have some desire to
pick it, and some idea of how to eat it.

He had responsibilities. Duties. Obligations. To Martial Bliss back home. To the

Pantheon. To a number of inhabitants of various realms and dimensions. Mostly,
selfishly, he had a responsibility to himself. For all his power and ability, he was a man.
No. Not a man. A little boy. A scared little boy. He didn't like that feeling. He faced it a
lot. He knew what he wanted. He didn't want to face it again.

So, kevrhon knew, as he knew all along that he would give into temptation. He would
have his wish. He was confident that his experience with properly phrasing spells and
incantations would allow him to make a wish properly, confidently, and precisely.

He thought of those he was leaving behind. Most of the heroes that he felt close to were
off living their dreams. Others he felt he should mend fences with before he departed. Of
those that remained, he wanted badly to express how he truly felt. Finally, mostly, he
thought about his wife. She was surely covering bravely how worried she must be. He
had no idea what she must be going through. She would always be a part of him, but
this wish was about being selfish. About fulfilling the desires of number one. So she
would be a part of his past for a while, and later if things went well, part of his future.
kevrhon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and made a wish.

***

It was Christmas morning, 1968. It was just as he remembered it. They lived in a mobile
home (or did they just call them trailer houses then? He'd have to be careful about things
like that.) He was a nine year old boy, standing in front of the tree with his brother and
sister. In his hands, extended for the camera, was his favorite gift of this or any other
year. There in young kevrhon's hands was a brand new Captain Action in his Batman
outfit. He sat astride Johnny West's horse for a reason that seemed important at the
time. Everyone was together. Everyone was together again. Everyone. The man behind
the camera encouraged the children to stand closer together. kevrhon choked back his
tears. He resisted an impulse to rush to his father and hold him and never let go. He
would be gone in just 6 short years. kevrhon thought knowing now what he didn't before
that he could change that. So many things could be so different with the wisdom of a
middle-aged man in the body of a nine year old child.

Nothing drastic. Not too different. But different. Better.

"Come on now. Smile. It's Christmas!" his mother chided.

Yes, it was.

Every day would be Christmas.

Chapter Forty-Five: Return and Rematch

by Jason

The Djinn Realm

"Where's kev?"

"He made a wish, Jason. He's gone."

With AoA Mimic's words, Jason turned cold. He knew kevhron was the only thing that
stood between hope and an eternity of anguish.

Then

"What th...?"

A portal opened up.

"Kev? Honey, are you in here?"

"Bliss?"

"Where is he?"

"Gone. He made a wish."

"NO! Without him, I can't contain the spell! Jeannie's drawn enough lifeforce from
Saffron, but the portal's collapsing!"

Upon hearing this, Jason dove in. Sure, he felt scummy about it, but it would be worth it
when he got his ring back and got the Pantheon back alive.

J Street

"Ow! Hard hard landing!"

"Jason! Are you all right?"

"Not really, Jeannie."

"AND HE'LL GET A LOT WORSE!"

Purple smoke began to rise.

"DJ?"

"Uh uh, tubbo. It's NEMESIS. NEM. IS. SIS."

"But, Grendel said he destoyed you! Got you to Qward!"

"My benefactor rescued me. Now, time for you to die!"

Jason was smacked by a power blast, landing hard on the pavement.

"Aw, wassa matter? Widdle Jason can't take it as well as he dished out?"

Jason swung his lantern at Nemesis, with no effect. Soon, Jason was down on the
ground.

"I have waited a lifetime for this moment," said Nemesis, grabbing a sword. "Say
goodnight, Gracie!"

Jason closed his eyes.

WHOOSH!
What happened? Am I still alive?

Jason opened his eyes.

On the ground, five inches from him, was Nemesis's right hand. His disembodied right
hand.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Usually when I lead jerks like you to their deaths, they tend to stay dead."

"FOOL!" shouted Nemesis, as a green hand took the place of the one he lost. "You think
you beat me? I'll show you!"

As Nemesis began fighting anew with Grendel, Jason noticed something.

He does have a part of me in him after all. He's so angry at Joey that he forgot that he
forgot he lost his ring. He doesn't need it BUT I DO!

Two minutes passed.

"Give it up, Joseph. I'm stronger than you, more powerful than you. You're outgunned
AND outclassed!"

"THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK!"

Nemesis turned around.

"Joseph, get outta here. Help the others."

"Great. I was getting sick of this dipstick anyway."

"Nemesis, is it? Let's dance."

Chapter Forty-Six: I hate to say this but

WRONG VILLAIN!
by Joe Grendel

Grendel matched swords with the figure, icy rain pouring down around them.

"Wait a second, I cut your throat. You're dead, dead, dead. It was Dark Jason I led to
Qward."

CLANG!

"Poor reading comprehension."

PARRY!

"So who are you?"

STAB!

"Dark Jason. Nemesis had nothing to do with Borelli's ring."

FEINT!

"I thought Wagner had shut down their computer access for the break in any case."

SLASH!

"Apparently not yet I sure hope Barney has nothing to do with this, although let's be
honest, he probably does."

The foes sighed and kept at it.

Chapter Forty-Seven: Endgame

by Jason

The War-Torn J Street

Jason was facing down Dark Jason, who had renamed himself Nemesis because, let's
face it, Nemesis is a much cooler name, and the alter-Grendel wasn't going to need it
anymore.

"You are nothing, Lantern Boy. Even with your ring, you can't beat me."

In response, Jason fired a bazooka at Nemesis.

No effect.

"My turn!"

As Nemesis flew after Jason, the GL began to panic.

This is a nightmare! He can hurt me, but I can't even faze him!

Jason hid behind the rubble of the Tower.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are! Grendy's taking on the rest of my team, so
there is no hope for you!"

Suddenly

TWACK!

SMACK!

BOOM! BOOM!

"You 'n' me, Snap! We'll take this turkey down!"

"You! Got! That! Right! BA!"

But soon, Nemesis had them by their throats.

"You two have been SO annoying! Time to di-"

His words were cut off by a shaft going right into his head! But he fired a force blast from
his mouth, sending Green Arrow skyward.

"NNOOO!"

Jason was angry. He fired a force-blast at Nemesis. The villain went down in a heap.
Buried Alien and Snap!!!Man ran for cover.

"Not so high and mighty now, are you?"

"Urrgghhh!"

"ANSWER ME!" the hero bellowed, as a ring generated hand wrapped around
Nemesis's neck.

"I'll kill you," he said feebly, hands glowing in emerald energy.

"I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU!" Jason screamed. "You come in here, you hurt people."

"Just doing what you would've wanted "

"Not going to happen. Not here. It ends. Now."

Two blasts emanated from Nemesis's hands, but to Jason, it felt like a gentle breeze.

"Leave. Don't ever come back. You don't ever show your face in J Street again."
"N-never "

"Well then," said Jason, forming a makeshift electric chair. "Sorry to hear that."

In a purple smoke, Nemesis was gone, replaced by

"B'harne."

"Congratulations, Jason. You defeated my greatest creation. I am impressed."

"Stuff it."

"No matter. The injuries you inflicted on Nemesis will take time to heal, but he'll be back.
So bask in your victory. Because it may be the last one you'll ever have."

As B'harne vanished, Jason staggered to a bar stool at Grendel's.

Five Minutes Later

"BA, Where's Jason? Mindbender and Saffron are back up and fighting!"

"Jeannie, I just went through J Street. Borelli's gone. He vanished."

Chapter Forty-Eight: I missed something again!

by Spaceman Spiff

The front door to the bar opens with a casual frankness. A very drunk Space Marine Spiff
walks in wearing a crisp new Marine uniform. He has two women hanging from his arms.
He looks blankly around the bar for a second, then walks up to the bar.

"A round for me, and one for each of these lovely young ladies," slurs the intrepid Space
Marine.

Grendel glances at the two ladies, more commonly know as hookers, shruggs and
accommodates Spiff.

"How's it going? Why are you in uniform?"

"I re-upped," exclaims Spiff, a grin slitting his drunken features. "I love this job."

"Oh great," mumbles Grendel, looking around the bar for any possible trouble Spiff
might start. He quickly sends a few rounds to a table of rough looking characters in the
corner of the bar. Spiff settles into a seat at the bar and begins his celebratory drinking
spree. The women are only too happy to drink with him.
A few beers later, about 12 actually, Spiff climbs on the bar yelling, "The Space Marines
kick ass!"

Grendel grunts and ducks behind the bar as the first bottle flies across the room, followed
by several others. Spiff laughs loudly as he dives at the closest offending thrower, a giant
of a man with large gaps where his front teeth used to reside.

Spiff hits him full in the chest, knocking him bodily to the floor. The man grunts, shakes
his head, and catches a right uppercut. His head snaps back, then flops forward just in the
nick of time to catch a left hook. His nose explodes in a blossom of bloody spray, his eyes
roll back in his head, and his head hits the floor.

By this time several other patrons are close enough to start swinging on Spiff. He deftly
blocks their blows, delivering a few good shots of his own. Quickly realizing he is
outnumbered eight-to-one, Spiff narrows the field by backing into a corner. Now faced
with only three opponents at a time, Spiff goes to work. Kicking and punching he quickly
dispatches the rest of the fighters.

Looking around at the bloodied unconscious patrons on the floor, Spiff wipes off the
blood coming from his nose and weaves his way back to the bar.

"One more for the road, Joe?"

Grendel laughs, passing Spiff his beer. Looking around the bar at the destruction caused
by a bar brawl, he shakes his head.

"Good to have you back, Spiff."

Spiff thanks Grendel for the beers, leaves a good tip, and wanders toward the rest rooms.
Halfway there, a blinding white light surrounds him. When the light goes out he is gone.

Chapter Forty-Nine: World's Greatest Pals

by Hatman

Meanwhile,
In An Imaginary Version of Toronto,
Set In An Imaginary Version of 1994

"And this, Hank, is where I live." Stephen grinned and gestured with a wide sweep of his
arm to the twinkling expanse of lights below. "Welcome to Toronto."

He turned slowly in the air, feeling the cool breeze russle his cape behind him. He
grinned at the sensation even floating in relatively one spot like this, the power of flight
was the greatest thing he had ever known. The red flashing warning lights of the CN
Tower (a Toronto landmark, and once the tallest freestanding structure in the world,
before the lousy Sears tower got built damned Americans) played lightly across his
features as he hovered next to its very tip, illuminating his quiet grin.

"Ive always wanted to do this," he murmured. "Ive always wanted to see the city this
way."

Hank perched a few feet below him on the edge of the maintenance catwalk at the
base of the Towers multiple antennae. The wind rustled his hair as he stared out over
the city. It wasnt large, not by American standards spread out, but not packed to the
rafters the way Manhattan was. It wasnt terribly tall, either only the CN Tower and the
Bank towers on Bay Street had any real height to them. But still, the sight of it took his
breath away.

Hank looked up at his mentor, hovering above him as a chorus of boos went up from the
SkyDome just below them (the Braves were trouncing the Blue Jays late in the
sixth hopes of a three-peat World Series were drying up already.) Toronto might not be
the most spectacular city in the world, but it had certainly done something right to earn
itself a champion like Superman.

"Incredible," he said softly.

Stephen spun around to look at him, his cape swirling behind him.

"Isnt it, though? I grew up here. Wouldnt want to live anywhere else."

Hank shook his head.

"I meant you, my friend. Verily, thou art the greatest, most capable hero I hast ever had
the privilege of seeing in action. Thy awesome power truly rivals even that of my idol,
Mighty Titan mayhaps even surpasses it." Hank smiled and lowered his gaze. "Truly, I
am most honored to be learning at your feet, Superman."

"Uhhh, thanks," Stephen said uncomfortably. "Though, yknow, Im uh really not all that
great. Im really just a guy in a cape and long underwear. Just like you."

Hanks eyes widned.

"YOU? Nay, Superman! I am just a guy in a cape and long underwear or I would be, were
a cape and long underwear to be worn by me. YOU are a hero among men, a true
champion for the ages! You are the greatest hero our world will ever know!"

Stephen reddened and smiled uneasily. How could he argue? It was all true! Superman
was the greatest hero in the world it was why hed wished to become Superman! Hed
wanted it all: the powers, the ability to help people in ways that Hatman just couldnt. The
respect and admiration that Hatman never received the respect and admiration of
everyone he met everyone including, and especially, an intoxicatingly beautiful young
woman by the name of Hunter Green

But not Hank. He hadnt wanted it from Hank. Not this way.

It occurred to him that the first first time hed met Hank, the Asgaardian had thought him
to be a little bit of a self-important doof.

It disturbed him to realize how much he missed that.

"I mean, youre sooooo strong!" Hank continued. "And fast! Faster than a than a than a
whole bunch of really fast things! And youve got that keen hot, melty vision thing! And
best of all BEST OF ALL you can FLY!"

Stephen couldnt help but grin at this.

"Yeah, I can fly!"

He did a joyous somersault in the air, just to prove to himself that he could do it.

"Though Im surprised thats what impresses you most," he said, brushing his cape out
of his face. "I mean, you can fly, too."

Hank frowned.

"Who me? Nay. Verily I am as flightless as the winged ostrich."

"You are not!" Stephen laughed. "Ive seen you do it a hundred ti"

And suddenly he broke off, as he remembered where and when he was. When theyd first
met, Hank wasnt yet in full control of his Mighty Stinky Farts, the power which propelled
him to great heights when properly unleashed. In fact, Hank hadnt even
realized they were a power yet--for the first six months theyd known each other, hed
considered it to be an embarrassing medical condition, and had avoided Mexican food
at all costs. It had been an evening out with the Mariachi band and a six-pack of
Heineken that had finally unleashed his latent ability and sent him hurtling into the
stratosphere for the first time.

When Hatman had awoken from his coma, three days later (he had been sitting right
next to Hank when itd happened after all), and had heard what had happened, hed
been happy for his friend. Happy and not just a little bit jealous

"Nay," Hank repeated, a little sadly, Stephen noticed. "Though a godling moung men I
may be, flight is the one gift the fates have chosen not to grant me."

Stephen smiled at him fondly, and drifted down a little to put a hand on his shoulder.
"They will, someday, Hank. They will someday."

Hank looked up at him hopefully.

Stephen paused in thought for a second.

"Actually, maybe sooner than you think. All wed really need is a case of Heineken and a
Taco Be"

He broke off suddenly and spun around in the air, craning his neck and squinting.

Hank blinked.

"Um, Superman? Is something the ma--"

"I thought heard something."

Hank blinked again and looked at the empty air around them. "Um where?"

"Sixteen blocks from here. I couldve sworn I heard there!" Stephen grinned excitedly,
his eyes dancing as he relaxed his gaze a little. "Oh man, I cant believe I missed that
the first time! I shouldve listened to you and followed her!"

"Huh?" Hank said confusedly. "Who did I tell you to fol-"

"Oh! Oh! Watch out for the one behind ooowwwww! Oh man, thats gonna leave a
mark! Ugh! I hope he wasnt planning on being a father some day "

Hank stared blankly at his new friend. Perhaps the high altitudes were beginning to get
to him.

"And thats the last of them," Stephen said, grinning. "Damn, but the girls efficient. Even
the cows couldnt have done it better. Now whats she gonna oh, I see. Popped the
lock on the skylight with a lock-pick arrow. Clever! I wouldve had to use the rabbits "

Hank grimaced and shook his head.

"Superman, whilst I am humbled in your presence, and only too happy to accept you as
my mentor and life guide in all things, I really do wish youd knock it off with the non-
sequitors. Verily, they are giving me a migraine."

Stephen turned back to him, a smile in his eyes.

"OK, shes in. Thats our cue. Lets go."

"Go? Go where?"
Stephen spun himself around so Hank could leap onto him piggy-back style.

"To see Hunter," he explained.

"Hunter? The warrior maiden from the airport?"

"Yeah. Shes about to uncover another thread in the case. We have to be there when
she comes out with it, and help her put the right spin on it. At least thats what we did last
time."

"Case?" Hank frowned as he jumped off the tower onto Stephens back. "What case?
The bad guys were stopped. The villain was apprehended. And the Prime Minister was
released unharmed. As All-Father Odin would say, Thats all she wrote, babe."

Stephen dipped a little under the Asgaardians weight, but quickly regained control.
Together they sped off towards the south side of the city, zipping past the towers of the
four major banks on Bay Street. A knowing smile spread across Stephens face as they
flew.

"Hank, trust me on this, OK? Just trust me."

Hank shrugged, admiring his reflection in the mirrored windows of the CIBC building.

"Whatever thou sayest thou art the Mentor, after all, Superman."

Stephen grimaced.

"Um Hank, listen about that Superman is such a formal-sounding name. Were friends or,
uh, at least were endeavoring to be friends and Id like you to get a little bit more
comfortable with me. More familiar, I think."

Hank was silent for a moment.

"Art thou saying youd like me to call thee Supey or Snugglebumps, or something?"

"Uhhhh, no," Stephen said. "Actually I was thinking more along the lines of um "

"Of?"

Stephen zipped around the Royal York hotel and over the 401 overpass.

"My friends call me Hat," he said.

"Ah," Hank replied. "Uh, why?"

"Because." A smile spread across Stephens face, as though hed just told an inside
joke. "Just because."

"Oh," Hank said, even though absolutely nothing had been explained. "Um OK,
whatever you say um, Hat."

And with that out of the way, the Worlds Not-Quite-Greatest-But-Not-Overly-Lame-

Either-Team zipped past the Redpath Sugar Factory, and headed for the Harbourfront

Chapter Fifty: You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

by Jason

J Street

Slowly, the remnants of the Pantheon began to beat back the army of villains, who
without the guidance of either Nemesis were beginning to falter.

"Buried, what do you have there?"

"I dunno, Mari. I tripped over it. It's addressed to The Pantheon."

"Let me see that "

Dear Guys,

If you're reading this, then the Pantheon must've pulled off another miracle win. And
yes, I'm still alive. But something went wrong.

After the fight with my doppleganger, I silently wished that I didn't have to fight for a
while. I was genuinely sick of fighting. Next thing I knew, I was on K Street. I tried every
technique to re-enter J Street, but nothing works. It seems that there was some
residual energy from my brief stay from the Djinn Realm, and it must have shunted
me out of J Street. I noticed that when I throw cans, they disappear. Hopefully, this
letter will find it's way to you.

Therefore, I have decided not to fight it. I will come back when I'm ready. Sure, I'll miss
everybody (except Grendel). But I need a break. I'm flying back to Staten Island. Do
not follow me. Do not try to contact me. I need some downtime. Then, when I'm rested,
I will return, a better hero from the experience. Until then, I hearby resign my post as
Mayor of J Street. I was never comfortable with the position anyway. Mope can take
over when and if he comes back.

Pantheon Forever,
Jason.
P.S. I have a present for Gail when she gets back. Make sure she gets it.

"What is it, Mari?"

"It's a green scruncie."

"Look alive, guys! Amon-Ra at 2 o'clock!"

"Right, Miracle!"

And the battle continues

Chapter Fifty-One: Farewell, Once Again,

To The Mighty Hank!
by The Mighty Hank!

The Mighty Hank sat sulkily in the Neverland ranch, sulking. He was unhappy about
many things, chief among them the loss of his superhero abilities and that he had
become a woman. Hank looked at himself, er, uh, herself whatever, Hank looked in
the mirror.

And arched his back a bit, with his hand on his hip. If he had to be a woman, at least he
was pretty.

Bubbles came in a moment later, motioning Hank to follow him.

"AAYAA YA YA YA!" Bubbles said.

"OK," Hank said, not really comprehending. Hank scrunched up his face, and put his hair
up into a purple scrunchie. Sometimes, that Bubbles made sense. Other times, he just
sounded like a crazy monkey.

***

In the throne room he sits, the king of all that he sees. On his head he wears a heavy
crown.

He is Michael the Jackson, pop-warrior king of the world. This strange world that The
Mighty Hank! has found himself in. Michael sat with a flagon of mead, holding his
warrior's microphone stand and wondering in bemused thought.

The red-headed beauty that was The Mighty Hank! entered the throne room.

"Michael, I need a favor," she said.

Michael cleared his throat. Before him was the beautiful queen of the musical stage.
She who would light the fires of the hearts of men, women and children across the land.
She who could be, nay, WOULD be someday his queen.

"Anything, Henrietta, anything your heart desires," Michael then stood up from his
throne
momentarily, grabbing his crotch, pointing at the stars and grimacing. Hank cleared
his well, her throat.

"Um, please, Michael, just call me Hank," Lady Hank said. Michael looked at the
beauteous singer in Viking clothes. He popped up one eye-brow, then sat.

"OK, Hank," Michael said.

They stood for a few moments, awkwardly.

"What is that you want Hank?" Michael asked. Hank looked out the window. He
looked at the fans camped out at Neverland. He looked away.

"I want you to give me a wish, Michael," Hank said.

"Of course. You name it! You want a car, a boat, a jet-ski "

"No, no. Nothing like that. I mean a REAL wish. The kind where you say I can wish for
anything, and I do, and it happens. Magic. A real wish," Hank said.

Michael looked at his lady love. For her, he would do anything, make anything happen.
He was Michael the Jackson, after all, and would forever be the warrior king of pop in his
realms. Michael smiled at his lady fair. He reached under his throne, and pulled out a
white, sequined glove. He smiled, then snapped his fingers.

"Make a wish, Hank make any wish that you want," Michael said.

Hank smiled.

"I want to be with my friends," Hank said. Michael snapped his fingers again, then was
quite shocked when the bolt of lightning suddenly hit Lady Henrietta in the cranium.

And before Michael the Jackson's eyes, Lady Henrietta changed into a 7' tall
godling-mong-men, before fading from his throne room all-together. In a whiff of ozone,
Lady Henrietta was gone.

Michael the Jackson sat dejectedly on his throne, wearing a heavy crown.
And as he looked at the smoky spot where his lady fair had been standing just meer
moments ago, Michael the Jackson thought She'll be back. I know she will. She'll be
back.

***

Hank opened his eyes, slowly. A 50 kitten being ridden by Gene Autry rumbled past
his vision, as newspaper taxi's appeared on the shore. Behind him, a pygmy-marmoset
was discovering the secrets of the universe. Hank turned his gaze toward the nearest
street-corner, looking at the nearest road-sign. He smiled a broad grin.

The sign read 'J Street. Hank's Mighty hearing listened softly for the signs of
ever-present battle. And he heard them.

Down the street he ran, faster than a speeding bullet ....

***

This is what Hank truly loved. He loved the battle. The chance to fight for noble ends and
in noble ways. To be on the side of the good, fighting like gods for the angels of the
world.

This is where The Mighty Hank! truly belonged. In the thick of things. Hank's face was a
contorted mass of sinewy flesh, fiery determination and big smiles. Yes, he would be
able to help his friends. Yes, he would be able to do something right, mayhaps, for a
change.

Change

The Mighty Hank suddenly stopped his running. His mind was screaming at him.
Something was different. Something was changed.

The thought had come over him in a flash. Somehow his memory it was being
changed. He could feel it. Being a godling, and having been raised in essentially
timeless environments most of his life, The Mighty Hank! could sense these sorts of
changes.

Temporal changes. Changes in history. Some small, some large, but changes
nonetheless.

He scratched his Mighty brow and furrowed his Mighty lips. Or vice-versa.

And then the Mighty Hank had, perhaps, his final thought. The Mighty Hank! scratched
his head, as he thought to himself,

Hey, has Hat ALWAYS been Superman? Hank thought.

And an instant later, The Mighty Hank disappeared from existence, dead (yet again) to
all the world.

Chapter Fifty-Two
by Red Monster

The Dream Realm

Red wandered through the area wondering what to do. She'd tried all the wish tricks
before, they didn't always work. Put a penny in your right shoe? Old wives' trick that
never worked. Wishing well? Yeah, right. Could she escape this place by making a
wish? Hmmm

The solitary, soft-voiced young girl continued on in search of an answer. So far all she
could see was moldy marble columns and statues of demons. How appropriate for a
soft-spoken, gentle, pretty 16-year-old redhead who called herself "the Monster."
Then, wouldn't you know it, where the floor seemed to continue was empty space, and
Red fell right through a hole just big enough for her butt to be jammed through.
Screaming for mercy and watching her life flash before her eyes, Red realized, "Man, I
haven't done much lately."

Still plummeting to what seemed like her death, Red saw what looked like a hard stone
floor, but what she fell on was like a huge pile of feathers. With a hard stone floor under
it. Oh well, you win some and you lose some. Red, stood up, brushed the invisible
feathers off her.

"Hello?" she said tentatively. She was standing in a small, lit room rather than the dank,
endless cavern she'd been exploring earlier. The floor in the middle disappeared, a fireball
rose out of the hole, then a gargoyle with a bad acne problem rose out of the hole
following the fireball.

Oh [bad word]. It was Red's ex-boyfriend!

"Chris, you better have either a good explanation or an off switch as to why you're here
with me!"

"Red, please, I know you hate me, but I need to talk to you."

"There's nothing left to talk about. If you have any feelings for me other than contempt
after the way I insulted you, then there's definitely a problem."

"Well, you insulted me in writing, at least you didn't blow me off in front of my friends."

"Friends? You've got friends?"

"You know what I mean, Red. Well, since you don't want to talk about our relationship "
"We never had a decent excuse for a relationship, you know that."

"I guess I should do my job here. The Stone Raven taught me all about the mystic arts,
and I eventually became the wish sorcerer for this place. You make a wish, I grant it and
let you out of here. That simple."

Red would have been content to just explore the realm for a while longer, but being stuck
in a small room all alone with Chris was making her nauseated already.

"Here's my wish. I wish the Greenhill Troupe would come and let me out of here." she
said
contemptuously. The hole in the floor widened to permit Mommy's voluminous form,
then permitted Loudmouth carrying Fluffy, Ramblin' Rose, and the Professor of Nuttiness
to leap onto the scene.

"So there you are, Red!" said Loudmouth.

"Is this your ex-boyfriend?" asked Rose.

"Yes I am." said Chris.

"Cool. You wanna go out sometime?" asked Rose.

"Sure." said Chris.

"I don't think so!" yelled Fluffy as her silky wool expanded, muffling out Chris.

"Red, jump into the floor!" shouted Loudmouth and yanked Red into the hole with her.
The rest of the Greenhill Troupe, excluding Fluffy, leapt in after them, and then Fluffy
retracted her fleece and jumped into Red's arms. They fell for hundreds of feet until a
huge flash of light came over them and they found themselves on Greenhill Road.

"Rose, if I ever catch you within 50 of Chris, your hide will find itself nailed
mysteriously to the wall!" shouted Red.

Chapter Fifty-Three: Death of an Aquaman, Conclusion

by Aquaman?

"Let's go, 'pops.'" AQ shot his harpoon hand out the window, scooping his father in his
arm and jumping.

"Wh-where are we going?"

"Why, we're going fishing, of course!"

"Oh, of-of course."

***

Nearby Lake Lavon.

WHIIIIRRRRR! KER-PLOONK!

"So, Dad, why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Tell you what, Paul?"

WHIIIIRRRRR! KER-PLOONK!

"Don't play stupid with me! I'm adopted, and I know it! Now, we can still be friendly
about this, or I can pack up and get out of here. You choose."

WHIIIIRRRRR! KER-PLOONK!

"Listen, you've obviously got some problems you need to work out. What did you do to
your hand?"

"Dad, that's really beside the point."

"I think you severing your own hand and replacing it with a a hook is a little more
important than what we were discussing."

"Well, we hadn't really gotten started on what we WERE going to talk about, but I will
tell you that now that I think about it, the hook WAS a lapse in judgment."

"A LAPSE IN JUDGEMENT? Son, you cut off your damn hand! Now why in hell would
you do something like that? I know it's been rough on you, what with me not
remembering your childhood and things, but I didn't think you needed psychiatric help "

"Dad, it's hard to explain. I I OK. You want the REAL story of what happened to my
hand?"

"Yes, I think I deserve that much."

"OK, well, you asked. I'm a super-hero, dad. I "

"No, you're not."

"Dad, will you let me finish? I can't promise that this will make any sense for you, but
I've got to try I'm a super-hero. I accidentally fell into a vat of chemicals when I was
drunk. It's not something I'm proud of, but at least it gave me the chance to sober myself
up and do some real good "

"But, Paul, you're not sobered up. You've been pretty heavy into booze for a while now "

"I was an alcoholic, dad. But that was the son that you knew."

"Now you're just talking in gibberish! Are you sure you haven't been drinking? Maybe I
should take you to a doctor "

"NO, Dad. I haven't been drinking. Look, this is going to be difficult for you to
understand, and I'm not sure I should even be telling you this, but I'm going to You're a
wish, Dad."

"What?"

"I was on an adventure with some of my friends, we wound up in this place that grants
you your heart's desire. I wished that you weren't dead."

"Son, maybe it's time we got in the car "

"Will you STOP IT? It's true, Dad! How else do you explain all this goofy stuff that's
happened to me?"

"I think you're a lunatic."

"NO! You listen to me! I had one wish! ONE! Do you hear me, Willie?"

"Y-you had one wish and you wished for me?"

"That's right! And I woke up to this nightmare!"

"One wish. One wish." WHIIIIRRRRR! KER-PLOONK! "Say, you remember the last
time we went fishing together? When was it? You were "

"SIX! I was six! Dad, do you remember it?"

"Yeah. We had an old Bronco. We got some tuna sandwiches that your mother made
some Cokes for you some beers for me You had that 'New Coke'. You HATED it! So, I I
gave you a sip of mine God, your mother would have killed me."

"Yeah, well, don't sweat it. I spit it all out, remember? I hated it then. I-I can't believe you
remember this "
"Yeah. We didn't catch anything. You were upset about that. I told you not to worry
because we had the sandwiches. You laughed at that. I slapped you on the back, and, and
oh god "

"Dad? Don't cry! It's OK! Everything's OK!"

"No, no it's not. I slapped you on the back and told you I was proud of you. That I didn't
care if you didn't catch any fish. I was proud of you, because you were my son "

"I know, Dad, I know It's OK "

"No, it's not! I've ruined your life! Turned you to liquor and now you think you're some
kind of super-hero!"

"Dad, I am. I wasn't lying about the wish thing. You died when I was eight. The stroke
killed you. I wished you back alive."

"Oh, God. It's true, isn't it? I've seen stranger things before "

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I guess I guess it's time I told you."

With that, William Sherman dove into the lake and disappeared for a good five minutes.
AQ went under the water and searched for him, but it did him no good. His father simply
didn't WANT to be found. So, he waited. He waited until

SPLASH!

Chapter Fifty-Four: The Life of a Hero

by The Wet Willie

"Hello, son."

"Dad, why are you wearing that?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet? No, I can see you haven't. Do you remember the time you
were in the attic, going through all those old pictures?"

"And I found the one of grandpa?"

"Yes. He was wearing this same wet suit."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, when I told you he only wore it for a costume party, I was lying."
"I kinda figured. It's a pretty stupid looking outfit. Sure wouldn't win any prizes!"

"HEY! Heh, I guess you're right, at that. It is kind of silly looking. But I figure it's time
you
find out about me and your grampa. We're WERE heroes."

"I guess. Only super heroes would get dressed up like that. Why haven't you ever told
me?"

"The same reason we never told you anything "

"To protect you/me" they both said in unison.

"What kinds of powers do you have, dad?"

"Powers? No, son, you didn't get your powers from us, remember?"

"Oh, oh yeah. Dad? Who are they? Why did they give me away?"

"It's complicated."

"So complicated you can't tell me?"

"OK, OK. Calm down. I'll tell you the whole thing I didn't want any kids. You knew that,
right?"

"Well, I kinda figured "

"Well, what you didn't know is the reason I didn't want them. I saw my father die fighting
fighting It doesn't matter who he was fighting! He died a super-hero's death while I
watched. I decided then and there that I wasn't going to give a child that legacy. I hung up
the tights and got a vasectomy."

"Isn't that kinda harsh?"

"Well, huh, it was the 'in' thing to do at the time. Then, I met your mother. They had such
a thing as a reversal, but I swore that I wasn't going to give that kind of a burden to a
child, so I said no. But your mother you know how she loved children "

"Yeah."

"Well, she just didn't give up. I had no idea what to do! I was approached by someone
your mother with a solution. She had a way where I could give my wife a child, without
having to worry about my child growing up to be like me. All I had to do was get the
reversal and have my baby "
"I don't think I understand. So I am your son?"

"No, no. Not by blood." He places his hand on AQ's shoulder. "Your mother was pregnant
with you when she came to me."

"Who is she? And then, who IS my father?"

"Your mother is a witch."

"Dad, that's hardly called fo"

"No. Really."

"You-you're not kidding, are you?"

"She was an enemy of your grampa's in the 50's I had no choice "

"Well, I was going to be born, anyway. I'm just glad you and mom were 'my parents.'"

"Yeah, but how do you think I felt?"

"I don't understand."

"She didn't want a child of her own. And she certainly wasn't going to let your father have
you. Your mom and I Gail and I did have a child we I traded him "

"Oh, God. Why? STOP CRYING! YOU TRADED YOUR CHILD?"

"YES, DAMMIT, I DID. I DID IT TO protect him doesn't make much sense, now, does
it?"

"You wanted to protect your son from becoming a super-hero, so you gave him to a
witch. Oh, no, it makes perfect sense!"

"Please, what do you think I feel like? She promised me that she would take care of him,
and that he'd never know, and that he'd never be put into danger. She lied, of course. She
gave the child to your father, to get him off her back "

"So what happened to him? Is he still alive? What about my father? You still haven't told
me who he is "

"Your father was the mad king of Atlantis. He wanted an heir desperately. He He raped
your mother. He was he was given my child, instead unhh-unhh."

"Shh, it's OK, Dad." No, it wasn't. AQ was holding back his own screams, his own tears,
his mother didn't want him, he was the product of rape
"What happened? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR SON, DAD?"

Both were crying.

"I DON'T KNOW! I DO KNOW THAT YOUR FATHER FOUND OUT ABOUT THE
DECEIT! THAT'S ALL I all I know."

"Sorry, I yelled, dad."

"Me, too."

"Where where are they all? Do you know? Are they alive?"

"Your father was insane when he found out about the trick he killed everyone in Atlantis."

"Did that include your son?"

"I don't know I guess. A-wuh a-wuh nggg"

"Dad? What's wrong?"

"Your mother Dioggra gave me a blood condition."

"What? Is that why you had your stroke?"

"Strokes. And yes."

"Well, then, I've got to find her. Make you better!"

"You can't." He tapped at the clotting in the back of his neck. "She's dead. I killed her."

"You killed my mother? Wuh-Why?" AQ was holding back the vomit now. This was a lot
to learn in the space of an hour.

"It was NGG! It the last time I wore this outfit. My last mission as the WET WILLIE."

Oh, God. AQ was effectively going nuts. Now, he didn't know whether to cry or laugh or
throw up or what. He held it together. He could tell that his father was not doing well, so
he held him. He cradled him in his arms like dad had so many times for him.

"I found out what she did with my child, that she'd told your father about it ahhhh nff, nff,
nff "

"Geez, Dad, you're not doing well. I'm gonna get in the car, gonna get a doctor PLEASE,
I'VE GOTTA, let GO OF ME!"
"F-forget it, paul. too late. Dioggra finally got me she gave me the clotting before she
died a 'parting gift,' she called it. those words haunted me forever "

"I-I guess that's why you never used to watch game shows with me "

Willie smiled, took his hand off the back of his neck, and tapped his nose with his finger.

"Goodbye, Tiger "

"No, Dad, no, Dad, no, Dad, no, Dad. Not again, not again, not again, not again.
PLEASE! I didn't fix it! I didn't make things right! PLEASE! Don't leave me alone again
no no no "

Aq closed his eyes, clutching his dad tightly against his chest. Then, his father
dematerialized.

***

The Djinn Realm

AQ looked up. He saw his friends, smiling at him. He saw his group, his Pantheon,
waiting for him to come out of it.

"Whadja wish for, Aquaman? Huh? Huh?"

"Don't call me that, Jester. My name's Wet Willie."

"Wet Willie? Hehehehehehhehehee" Jester could tell that AQ was serious. He stopped
laughing.

"I know that it takes on certain, different connotations in today's day and age, but it was
a proud name for my father and grandfather, and I'm going to continue their legacy."

"Your granddad was the Golden Age Wet Willie?"

"Yep. Maybe that'll earn some respect around here "

"Doubtful."

"Yeah, I know, but it's something I have to do." Aq pushed past all the angst and disgust
he was feeling. He bottled it up. He knew it would have to come out someday, but today
he knew the truth about himself, and he was with his friends and that was the best thing
he could've wished for!
 Chapter Fifty-Five: Pantheon Colors
by Joe Grendel

Once upon forever, in a place called J Street, in a hole-in-the-wall tavern called

Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill

Martin J. Uppercrust III swaggered in, in the snotty, self-deluding way only a UVA grad
can, and dropped a copy of Pantheon Colors on the bar.

"Well, he quit. I did it." Scratching the wispy wishing-might-make-it-so goatee that had
almost sprouted from his chin, Uppercrust winked at the bartender. "My revenge on the
Pantheon is complete. Aquaman steals my beat, I take the mayorship away from his
buddy. That Nemesis guy gave me all the dirt. Seems he was monitoring the Pantheon
throughout the election on a bank of monitors. I'd like a Sam Adams, my good man."

Grendel put down his receipts, looked at Uppercrust, then broke his nose.

"Whub wud dat por? You on Borebbi's sibe?"

"No," Grendel wiped the blood off his knuckles with a dish towel. "I just hate Wahoos."

***

Meanwhile, if such a term applies to J Street, several blocks away, there was a brief pause
in the never-ending battle.

"Did you see that?" Shogun tapped a control panel on his left gauntlet, running a self-
diagnostic on his sensors.

"See what?" Mantid slithered up beside him.

"For just a second, I thought I saw the Mighty Hank "

Mindbender whipped off his sunglasses with his left hand, his face red with anger.

"I have had ENOUGH!"

Flaming red swords pierced the chests of the New Pantheon, and the fell to the ground
screaming.

The supervillains (they REALLY have to come up with a clever team name ) looked
around in confusion.
"What are they screaming about?" Saffron asked at last. "What did you make them see?"

Mindbender smiled.

"I 'inflicted' mortal wounds on all of them, or so they believe. They certainly wish they
were dead." He put his sunglasses back on, smiling. "Grant their wish, people. Kill them
all."

Chapter Fifty-Six
by The Jester

The Djinn Realm.

"Sooooo, what did you really wish for, Jester?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Come on, tell us!"

"Sorry, Mimic."

"PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!"

"Nope. Not gonna."

"Will you ever?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Come, on Jester. You can tell me!" Amazon said.

"Well, well, well! All right then, my dear. I'll whisper it. Here, come closer."

Amazon leaned in close to the Jester. There was a pause. Then:

"BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP!"

"JESTER, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU AND MAKE A SWEATER WITH YOUR
INNARDS!"

"Woo-hoo-hoo!" and the Jester again ran away, an enraged Amazon close behind.

Chapter Fifty-Seven: I Sure Hope This is the Right Place!

by The Scarlet Rob
The Djinn Realm...

The Scarlet Rob flew around and around in loop-the-loops, the pink clouds swirling
around him like cotton candy, or strawberry Quik. He executed sudden, sharp turns,
describing vast Zs across the sky like an airborne Zorro. He burrowed through a
particularly large cloud, and wrote his name in cursive script.

He'd been practicing this for a long time.

"I am so bored!" he muttered.

"I want to go hooooooooooooooome!"

"If only the rest of the Pantheon would make their friggin' wishes already so we could get
outta here I already missed seeing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer! It won't be
Christmas without seeing Yukon Cornelius again "

Suddenly, with a loud DING, a dark blip appeared before him, stretched wide into a
horizontal line, then shot up and down to flesh out into the form of a man

"Hello!" the new arrival said genially. TSRob stopped on a dime and stared.

The new guy, not surprisingly, began to fall.

"Whoops!" he called out. "I didn't know you'd be up in the air! A little assistance?"

TSRob dropped down after him, caught him under the arms, and lowered him to the
fluffy pink ground.

"Who the heck are you?" TSRob demanded.

"I'm The Temporary Guy. I just went to work for the New Pantheon and they assigned me
here. I've been sent to deliver a message. The New Pantheon is in desperate trouble, and
they need you old-timers to come to their rescue."

Whoa, thought TSRob, this new bunch must be astoundingly inept if they're running to us
for help!

"I'm glad I remembered to think that instead of saying it out loud!" he exclaimed. "But it's
useless, uh, Temporary Guy! We're stuck here until everyone makes a wish then I guess
the Realm sends us back or does somebody have to wish us back? I'm not sure where the
#(%$ are kevrhon and Grendel?"

"No, it's OK!" said The Temporary Guy. "That's what they told me to tell you! Jeannie
looked it up in the Djinn Manual. All you have to do is click your heels together three
times and say, 'There's no place like home!' You'll all be sent back to J Street, and those
who haven't wished yet will be able to save their wishes for a later date. The exposure to
the Djinn Realm doesn't wear off until a wish is granted, exhausting the energy build-up!"

"Well, thank goodness!" TSRob exclaimed. "I was beginning to think we'd be stuck here
forever! Just like that awful bus trip "

"Look, I have to go!" The Temporary Guy said hurriedly. "I think my time's up! I'll see
you back there!"

As his voice faded, his body somehow deteriorated into an electronic "snow" like a dead
TV screen, and with a loud FFZZZZZZZTTTTT he was gone.

***

Evil, Inc. moved forward

No, wait

The Injustice Pantheon moved

No

The Bad Company moved forward

Well, anyway, they moved forward as one, bloodlust in their eyes, towards the New
Pantheon writhing helplessly, screaming in pain from their illusory wounds.

It looked like curtains for Buried Alien, Snap!!!Man, Thunderbolt, John Starr, Satellite,
and Elastic

Or at least mini-blinds (ba-DUM-bum!)

When suddenly, Saffron, Killjoy, the Black Axxxer, Mantid, Amon-Ra, Shogun,
Piledriver, and the rest were stopped in their tracks by the arrival in front of them of

(Yes, you guessed it.) The Pantheon!

Our Heroes glanced around quickly (some of them looking with relief at the "I.O.U. One
Wish" tickets clutched in their sweaty hands), instantly sized up the situation, and faced
the oncoming enemy in full battle stance!

Chapter Fifty-Eight: The long awaited misplaced chapter

by AoAMimic

Djinn Realm
AoAMimic was tired from bothering Jester to find out what his "big wish" was. He was
tired of the Djinn Realm in fact, they had been stuck there for what seemed like an
infinity, looking at clouds and watching peoples imaginations sprout into a reality before
them and manifest around the landscape. And with Jesters imagination in fifth gear, the
Djinn Realm was not a place for little kids to be wandering around.

And he still hadnt come up with a good wish.

Cursed with a semi-logical mind, he considered all the great stuff he could wish for, but
then thought of the consequences of the wish. It was unfortunate. Then suddenly, he
thought of a wish that wouldnt change reality, and he wanted to try out since he was a
kid and would watch the show in the afternoons sometimes. AoAMimic closed his eyes
to the sight of Amazon tackling Jester, and silently whispered his simple wish. And
POOF he was gone.

He failed to notice that at the same time he disappeared into his wish the Pantheon had
disappeared back into reality.

He reappeared shortly, wearing normal civilian clothes, with a name tag attached to them.
There was a screaming audience all around him. He looked up to see a huge stage in front
of all the people with a gray-haired man talking into a long, thin microphone.

"ROOODDDY!" he said loudly, "Tell us who our next contestant is on the PRICE IS
RIGHT!"

Mimic smiled. A horrifyingly brightly dressed man yelled into a microphone.

"Bob, our next contestant iiiiissssss MR. A. O. A. MIMIC COME ON DOWN!"

AoA jumped to his feet as the crowd around him patted him on the back and screamed.
He dashed down the aisle and took his place at the bidding table. This was going to be
fun.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: I'm on a roll

by AoAMimic

The set of "The Price is Right."

"OK Mr. Mimic, how much do YOU think this stereo is worth?" questioned Bob Barker
into his long microphone.

"Well," the crowd roared behind him with thousands of prices "I would have
to say it is $237!"
"And the real price IS TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN DOLLARS! MR.
MIMIC, YOU WIN!"

Mimic walked past the other bidders, happy and walking like it. The other bidders looked
down and dejected. He walked up on stage and shook hands with Bob Barker.

"OK, Mr. Mimic, heres the gameyou are going to play PLINKO!"

AoAMimic smiled. He always wanted to try this out. Those dopey people on the TV just
didnt know how to drop the chips into the game

***

J Street

"Ummmm," Elastic looked around at the newly-arrived Pantheon quizzically, "Where are
Hank and Hat?"

The rest of the Pantheon groaned as they realized that the Worlds Lamest Team was still
trapped in their respective wishes.

"Well! No! Time! To! Think! About! It! Now! We! Have! Work! To! Do!" exclaimed!
SNAP!!!MAN!

Evil Inc. (or whatever they are called) slowly began to backpedal down J Street. Not that
any of the "heroes" approaching them were a real threat individually, just that they were
severely outnumbered and, well, a beat-down is a beat-down.

Out of nowhere a bald man appears and coldly looks the bad guys in the face, speaking
out in a thick British accent what all the Pantheon was thinking.

"It ends HEAH!"

It looks like everything will be straightened out shortly

***

The set of "The Price is Right."

Sixty thousand dollars, two jet skis, a brand-new Toyota, a cruise of the Caribbean and a
confirmed date with one of "the Price is Right" girls later, AoAMimic stopped.

And a thought hit him.

How do I get out of this wish? Uh-oh.

 Chapter Sixty: New and improved?
by kevrhon

It had been a strange and wonderful three decades. Most of his life had passed just as it
had before the wish. With one very important difference. His father was alive this time.
The family had remained intact. His sister was still the black-sheep. Still estranged from
the family. But successful and happy. His brother was still driven to succeed, but not
tormented. His mother was happy, and no longer lonely. And kevrhon knew a peace that
he was unaware he hadn't know before. So many things were in sharper focus.

He looked around the Djinn Realm. No one knew that he was any different. No one
noticed the serene expression under the helmet. How trivial the helmet seemed to him
now. There was no reason to hide behind the facade any longer. He had no need any
longer for the artifice of the helmet or any of the other trappings of Dr. Fate. Gleefully, he
set the helmet down at his feet. He removed his azure cloak, folded it casually, like a
bachelor folds a towel, and laid it next to the helmet. He removed his tunic, his tights and
every stitch of clothing save his blue and gold g-string. His "fighting togs" as Marital
Bliss referred to them.

He was aware that suddenly his fellow Pantheon members might suspect that he was
indeed different than he had been before the wish. But it didn't matter. That was their
problem. With the ease of the merest thought, the man who moments before had been Dr.
Fate, vanished.

***

kevrhon reappeared in an instant in a place where such a word lacks a credible meaning.
kevrhon stood in little more than mother nature gave him, in the midst of Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill. Without pause he nodded at the proprietor, smiled and seated himself at the
bar.

"Hi, Joe. Let me have a Diet 7-up, would you please?"

Joe Grendel had seen a lot of things in his existence. Many of the most baffling right here
in this bar. But nothing that gave him pause like the sight of a nearly nude Lord of Order
unabashedly sitting down and requesting a soft drink.

Yet, he kept his composure. Joe filled a glass and placed it on the bar before kevrhon.
kevrhon held the glass in the air, traced a "u" in the air in Grendel's direction, and
chugged the contents. Whatever had prompted him to go non-alcoholic had not repressed
his insecure need to make overtly masculine gestures.

Joe placed an elbow on the bar, and leaned forward cupping his chin on the heel of his
palm. His face drew to within inches of kevrhon's.
"So, kev, seen any interesting dimensions lately?"

kevrhon blinked. This was the only indication that the vacant stare meeting Joe's query
wasn't the result death from a poison beverage.

"Hmmmmm? Oh, you mean the Djinn realm? Yeah, interesting place. The Pantheon's still
there. Most of them are okay. Nothing serious, nothing to be alarmed about."

The bartender looked incredulously at the man occupying his stool. Everyone in the bar
had been doing the same thing since he "popped" in.

"I can bring them back if you want."

Joe raised an eyebrow, and his voice dripping with sarcasm asked "Are you receiving my
transmission on this frequency?" Silence filled the bar. Joe rapped on kevrhon's forehead
with his knuckles. "kevrhon, are you in there?"

"Huhmmm? Oh, yeah. The Pantheon? The New Pantheon is sending the Temporary Guy
to lead them home. I could bring 'em back, but why spoil their fun, right? It's really a
wonderful place. The thing of it is, is, I can't be the Pantheon's deus ex machina all the
time. They get too reliant on me, they'll quit trying. Quit doing things for themselves.
Knowhutahmean?"

Grendel looked up at a corner of the bar for a second and pursed his lips. He wasn't sure
he bought kevrhon's reasoning. Something strange had happened. But for the moment he
couldn't come up with a valid argument. Hell, hadn't he himself run out on the group in
the Djinn realm? He shrugged, the pointed at the empty glass on the bar. kevrhon nodded.
Joe turned to the fountain and refilled the glass.

Chapter Sixty-One: At LONG last the end!

by Joe Grendel

Grendel's Pond
Bar and Grill

Grendel, holding the magic marker pen cap in his teeth, feverishly wrote out a "No shirt,
no shoes, no pants/kilt/skirt, no service" sign. Of all the sentients in all the universes, in
all time and space, the one who had to show up in his bar in a g-string was KEVRHON?
Yikes!

"Set me up with another Diet 7-Up, my boy."

"Kev, are you aware that you're the only being to EVER order one of these? I got stuck
with them in a poker game, and I had LOST."
"Well, today's your lucky day."

***

The villains looked at one another. Sure, the World's Lamest Team wasn't there, but the
Minutemen (minus Red Monster and the Greenhill Troupe and AoAMimic) were, as were
The Scarlet Rob, J'onn, A'nne, the Wet Willie (!), the Jester and a Mope who no longer
looked like a guy too in love with his Atom Underoos.

"Forget this," Shogun slapped his gauntlet, activating the emergency teleport, and
vanished.

Mantid, following suit, activated her armor's cloaking function, and skittered away at
high speed.

Ricochet vanished at super-speed.

Mindbender, a wry look on his face, made himself invisible to the heroes and hailed a
cab.

Amon-Ra activated his boot jets and vanished.

Saffron, Black Axxxer, Killjoy and Bloodlust looked at one another, with sheepish looks
on their faces.

"RUN AWAY!" They bolted off into the night.

The Pantheon and Minutemen, frankly, were too exhausted to care. The Mayoral offices
were in ruins, smoke still poured from the remains of kevrhon's tower, and Cable 77's
onboard sensors told him that Minuteman Comics wasn't in much better shape.

"Hey," OzBat, who'd been far too busy IRL to make any wishes, although he still
clutched his coupon in one hand, shook Marital Bliss awake. "We're home, Mari.
Kevrhon's OK."

"Whuh?" Her eyes opened slowly.

***

It had gotten cold while the heroes were in the Trade Wars Universe, then the Djinn Wish
Realm. Snow hadn't yet appeared, but Christmas lights had gone up along J Street, as had
electic menorahs and the odd "Kwanzaa" banner.

Grendel had managed to convince kevrhon to try some eggnog when the Pantheon burst
in.
"SUGAR MUFFIN!" Marital Bliss pounced on him. "I've MISSED you!"

"Hey, honey, I WHOA!" Mari threw her husband over her shoulder and marched out the
door. "Where are we going?"

"A hotel. The tower's been blown up and, I told you, I MISSED YOU!"

kevrhon, bouncing on his wife's muscular shoulder, waved bye-bye.

The Pantheon slouched into seats and barstools and members of the Minutemen dropped
into the booths.

Jeannie and Grendel buzzed amongst them, passing out beers, eggnog and soft drinks.

Someone put Stevie Ray Vaughn on the jukebox.

Mope sat at the bar, stretching wearily.

"So, we don't know where Hank, Hatman or AoAMimic are, but we expect them back
soon." The new mayor of J Street stared over Grendel's shoulder, at a spot next to the fish
tank behind the bar. "How come I never noticed your fraternity paddle hanging there
before."

"It's not," Grendel said, turning, "It hasn't been not for years " He stared at it, open-
mouthed. "I presume no one wished for THAT."

"Joe," Mope said a moment later, "You look a bit younger than when last I saw you."

"Well, compared to the weirdness that usually goes on around here, I'll take it." He wiped
down the bar with a rag, grinning. "The Pantheon is alive and safe, I've got my bar back.
As far as I'm concerned, Christmas has come early this year."

The End?

Remember to keep comics and you alive:

Don't drink and drive!

(No animals, sentient plants or cybernetically

enhanced wieners were hurt in the production of
this collaborative story.)