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“Missing?” Wonder frowned sharply. “For how long?”
“I remain uncertain. Longer than a week, at the very least. That was when I suggested Day might seek her counsel; I doubt they could have both disappeared so close to one another.” Though existing in a state beyond form, the Other still gave off the impression of tapping his fingers restlessly.
For a long moment, neither god spoke. In the ethereal gardens around them, spirits of flight and song flitted about the trees, brief flashes of colors causing the light to twinkle as if filled with jewels. An echo of every paradise ever visited by the garden’s owner. “Night. The Oracle. Day. Anyone else?”
“I cannot seem to locate Swiftness. But then-”
“-he hardly ever stays still long enough to be located,” Wonder finished wryly.
The Other sighed. “Indeed. I thought to check with the Guardians of Light next- perhaps the Lords of Order and Chaos afterward.”
“Do that. I’ll head in the opposite direction: the Great Hunters, the other Patrons I know...” she trailed off, considering. “I dare say the Question might be tempted out of his lair in order to help us search.”
Her friend hesitated, long enough for Wonder to raise a curious brow. “Perhaps... I am aware there are, tensions, between you, but- perhaps you might seek out the Moon. If nothing else, she might be able to lead you to Night, and his assistance would be invaluable.”
Ugh. There were nearly as many interpretations of the Goddess of the Moon as there were stars in the sky, but the prevalent personality who’d endured into the modern era wasn’t one Wonder particularly liked. But... “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll, call upon her.”
“Good.” The Other rippled, concern and fondness and an overall sense of warmth wrapping around her - the Martian deity’s version of a hug. “Be careful, Woman of Wonder.”
“You as well, Mind Over Matter.”
“Selene!”
A huff. “I go by Selin-ah these days, Wonder.” Something a little more modern, to fit with her updated look. A thief in the night, a black cat stalking its prey, she currently perched on a narrow ledge on the boundary of her domain, sorting through diamonds that gleamed in the ever-present silver glow.
On the ground below, the biggest annoyance ever to threaten her with a sword tried not to scowl. “Selina. I’ve come to ask for your assistance.”
...hm.
Sweeping her gems into a velvet-void bag and vanishing it just as swiftly, the Moon stretched herself out upon the ledge, one arm dangling and the other propping up her chin. “Oh? Do tell. Is there some old relic you’d like retrieved? Museums these days, they’re so picky about what stolen items they feel willing to return to the countries of origin-”
“I need to speak with the Night.”
Make that a double hm. “He’s in the mortal realm.”
“So I am aware. But apparently he returned, briefly, a little over a week ago. Day was the only one to sense it; now he has gone missing. And others, as well.”
The Moon frowned.
“So we are aware,” the Guardians intoned, when the Other sought them out with his questions and warning. “The Great Beasts of Light have been restless. The repositories of their power glow brighter than they have in centuries. Grave times are upon us once more.”
Behind their carefully chosen words and neutral expressions, the Other could sense flickers of unease. “I see. Will you be seeking out new champions, to reinstate the Lantern priesthoods?”
“Yes.”
Grave times indeed. He bid a hasty farewell, and went onward.
The Lords of Order and Chaos responded much the same, even bound in their eternal bids for dominance. New avatars were in the process of being selected within the mortal realm, or awoken from slumber in Places Between. The ancient entities of the Red and the Green, too, were beginning to stir, as they had not since before the rise of human civilization; the Other wondered with concern what sort of champions those powers might create for themselves, out of flesh and blood, root and leaf.
When he approached the rulers of New Genesis, they alone rumbled with denial of reaching out to the mortal realm. “It is not yet time,” Highfather announced. “We are deities meant for the future, for a race that is not yet born: so powerful the echoes of their achievements herald their very arrival. It is not our place to enter the physical plane until we are truly called.”
(Hopefully, the same held true of Apokalips and its darker entities; the Other dared not visit that burning domain, filled as it was with misery and pain.)
Finally, his visits complete, the manifestation of mind over matter drew to a halt at the Great Crossroads. From that singular point, one could find a path leading most anywhere: forward or back or sideways, to realms and domains and spaces in between. He at first thought to seek out the Woman of Wonder, and check her progress... But an old song stirred within him, and instead, the Other turned towards a path he’d not flown in an age.
The winding way was little used, and long fallen into disrepair; still, he followed it confidently, with the ease of an elder returning to the home of their childhood. At the very far end, he emerged into a realm that used to burst with color and silent music - a place of peace, and magic, and adapting oneself to any challenge that might arise. A place now devoid of any life at all.
Mars.
He flew slowly past the broken towers and ravaged gardens, the shattered halls and ruined homes. Ghosts echoed in his mind; children laughing as they played, great scholars debating a dozen ideas at once, young rulers striving to find the greatness of true leadership.
A hundred thousand tragedies in one.
Deep in the heart of a temple dedicated to him, their most revered deity, the Other found a device he’d once activated with tremendous sorrow. All corners of his psyche shuddered to be approaching it again, but- but. Everyone he’d spoken to agreed: grave times. Great change. All of it centered, once more, upon the mortal realm.
His ephemeral form and metal powers could not make a journey to that place. Not to a planet that remained wholly unaware of him, when his own lay cold and dead.
Or nearly dead.
Activating the outer panel of the device, he waited patiently for the tomb of slumber to stir, to reawaken the last martian within. His sole remaining priest, the only survivor, who’d given up reuniting with his loved ones in the Life Beyond, for this. For spending eternity in a dormant state, still alive, still filled with belief for his god, and keeping the Other from fading away entirely.
When at last the lid swung away, and the priest within gasped awake, the god carefully entered his mind. In moments, the mortal saw all his visits, his concerns, his conviction to investigate for himself. But that conviction would be put aside, if his last priest could not bring himself to agree; if he would prefer to be returned to the tomb of slumber, or even to finally be allowed to die, and move on.
Yet even as the Other pointed out those options, the devoted mortal swept them aside. He could not restore their world or the great conclave of priests, but he could, and would, do this.
So God and Mortal became one, and a lone, tired bell rang across the planes. Too faint to be heard by most, and yet, a few lifted their heads with surprise.
“The Martian’s done something.”
“I heard.” The Huntress stared for a long moment, trying to see far enough to glimpse the red husk of a dead world, before giving up with a sigh. Her vision was good, but not that good.
Her companion and constant annoyance drummed his fingers against his bow. “It’s got to be mixed up with what Wonder told us about. Everybody’s looking at the mortal plane again.”
“Once again, you prove a master of the Obvious.”
Soon enough, the Hunter grew tired of trying to poke a response from her, and headed off deeper into their shared forest domain. Rather than make a dance of trying to avoid him within the ancient trees, she left entirely, headed down a hidden path to an old friend’s lair. It took a decent amount of time; there were a lot of traps to get past or disarm. A lot of traps. As in, more than she’d ever placed around the boundary of her forest, a much bigger place than the Question’s little bolthole.
“Q!” She called, on the final approach to what appeared to be a plain cliff wall. “Need to pick your brain for a bit.”
No answer.
“Q,” the Huntress repeated, “I know you’re in there.”
The canyon remained silent.
Settling herself, the god called a third time, “Q.”
And a door swung out from the stone. “Get in here before someone sees you.”
“I’m glad you only waited for three shouts,” the Huntress grumbled, as she stepped through into the lair. The door immediately closed behind her, plunging the space into darkness but for the Question’s array of glowing mirrors along the far wall. “If I’d had to yell at you seven times, I would be much more annoyed.”
“You’re always annoyed regardless,” a formless voice grumbled. “What is it this time?”
“Gods are disappearing. Wonder dropped by earlier to warn the Hunter and myself-”
“They are not disappearing,” the Question snapped, surprising her. “They are being banished, to the mortal realm.”
Oh she did not like that combination of words. “How? Why? And don’t give me your standard line of ‘now that is the question’, Q, I am not in the mood.”
“I don’t know the Why,” he muttered. Some of the mirrors flickered, the images within them changing. “But I do know the How. There’s an old spell being cast, a reversal of the summons that humans in Atlantis once used to call their Patrons for help. It’s how Laughter and Tears sent the Night down into a mortal shell several years ago.”
Her frown deepened in confusion. “He’s the one doing this?”
“He is one of the one’s doing this,” the Question countered. “Far more entities have already been banished than anyone realizes; enough that at least a dozen perpetrators are working together to do it. What I don’t know yet is whether they are truly working together, or if some greater unidentified enemy is corrupting lesser gods and sending them out to do its bidding.”
That was an even worse combination of words. A shiver crawled up her spine, and the Huntress barely managed to resist a shudder. The Question was her friend, but even so, she didn’t like to show weakness in front of anyone. “What can we do?”
“Hide.”
She blinked. “You can’t be serious.”
“I can and I am.” The darkness before her shifted, lightening just slightly into a deep blue, the featureless shape of a face making itself known. “You can- stay here. If you want.”
The Huntress stared at him, stunned by the offer. “I- thank you, but- I can’t abandon my domain.”
In a blink, the Question disappeared from sight once more. “Can’t abandon the Hunter, you mean.”
“No, that’s not-” She bit off the protest; what did it matter, when the two reasons came to the same end? “Look. Even if I could just walk away, and come hide down here- I wouldn’t. There’s something going on, and it needs to be stopped. You don’t want to go out and risk yourself, fine, but I’ve got to do something. And if I find any answers, I’ll let you know.”
That said, she turned, shoving at the wall until she found the door, and sweeping back out into open air.
Ambition
Power
Betrayal
Weakness becoming strength
Manipulation for amusement
Comedy and tragedy, laughter and tears
What did any of it matter?
What did any of it matter?
What was any of it, what were any of them, besides one
Big
Cosmic
Joke?
After a very odd conversation, the Moon took herself down to the mortal realm, to a city she loved and hated in equal measure. A great chorus of meows went up at her arrival; when Selina stepped out of the alley, she carried one cat draped across her shoulders with a dozen more trailing after her feet.
Two blocks down, she ducked into another alley, and headed confidently into the odd courtyard space at the far end - a place where newer construction replacing only half the old buildings meant an empty square, laundry lines strung across overhead, perfect to fill up with threadbare tents and cardboard shanties.
Despite it being the middle of the night, several people stood around a steel drum, chatting as they warmed themselves up in the brisk air. One young woman turned to say something to the person beside her; when she caught sight of Selina approaching, her expression lit up brighter than the sun at Noon.
The cats dispersed as she was enveloped into the fold; only the sleek black critter riding upon her shoulders stayed put, well aware it wouldn’t be bothered while keeping close. As Selina pulled down her heavy backpack to start handing out food, she did a quick headcount, and asked after a missing face.
Rather than the wary or sad expressions she usually expected, the other young ladies all lit up with excitement. “She had the baby! At that clinic like you told her, Selina, and you were right! The Doc called in a favor and got her into fed housing, with the cheap rent and a daycare.”
“Good.” She’d have to send an extra blessing or three the mortal woman’s way; childbirth was decidedly not within Selina’s current divine portfolio, but mothers were, and the ones who made a living turning tricks needed all the blessings they could get. “Any other news?”
The excitement faded somewhat. A few pairs of eyes turned towards one figure in particular, a trans girl who usually came back from a night out with more bruises than anyone else. “There’s... somebody new, on the streets.”
Selina would’ve raised her hackles at the words alone, but the girl’s tone- Something in it made her hold off on the aggressive reaction. “Somebody rough?”
“No. Well, yeah, but not- not to us. There was-” The mortal took a deep breath. “There was a john, getting too mean, and I knew it wasn’t gonna end well but I didn’t have room to run. But then this- this bat guy swooped in, like straight out of the shadows, and he hit the john hard enough to knock his teeth out.”
Selina felt an odd sensation crawl up the back of her neck.
“He was really quiet, when he talked to me, after,” the girl kept going. “Gave me directions to a trauma clinic, asked if he could call anyone- handed me, uh. Handed me some cash. More than I’d make in a week, honestly. And then he just, disappeared, like he’d never been there at all.”
“There’s a bunch of other girls who’ve seen him,” another one said, “And a few passin’ on stories they heard from their clients. This bat guy’s been all over Gotham, every night this week, kickin’ the shit out of folks gettin’ too rough or breakin’ shit. Last night-” Her voice dropped to a whisper- “Last night I even heard he took out a squad of Falcone’s men, movin’ product down by the docks.”
Huh.
After securing the Moon’s agreement to go down to the mortal city where Night was most likely to be residing, Wonder began to backtrack homeward. Only halfway there, however, someone stopped her with a desperate cry.
“Huntress,” the frantic god before her demanded, “Have you seen the Huntress?”
“Not since I visited your domain,” Wonder answered warily. “What’s happened?”
The Hunter groaned, tugging on his dark green hood with both hands. “She’s gone. I thought she’d just gone to see the Question, like you asked, but- there’s a circle, on the road to his lair. The ground is blackened within it, and- and her crossbow bolts are embedded in the rocks all around.”
Wonder seized his shoulder in a steel grip. “Show me.”
Someone else was crouched beside the circle by the time they reached it. A layered mass of dark blue cloth, which turned when Wonder landed, revealing an unmistakably human but entirely blank face. “They got her.”
“Who?” The Hunter snarled.
“That is the question, isn’t it.”
The god beside her lunged. Wonder caught his quiver and dragged him back again. “Either be helpful or begone, Question. This is too dire a matter for cruel jokes.”
“I never mean it as a joke,” the Patron of Conspiracy muttered. “And I am fully capable of being helpful.”
“Then start by telling us what you think happened,” Wonder said, ignoring the first part of his statement. “And we will go from there.”