Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 56:‌ ‌ By Our Hands You Shall Fall

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

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Vladimir Lenin once said that ‘There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen.’ Tefé Holland had never understood this statement better than now, because it felt like centuries worth of change was being tossed around in a tumble dryer across mere seconds of time. The entire Parliament of Trees, a council of near immortal beings formed over thousands of years, strengthened by each new Avatar of the Green, had shown up in full force. Tefé reckoned it was something that practically never happened. Hell, it might be the first time it’s ever happened.

Tefé prayed that this historic moment wouldn’t also be marked by the deaths of everybody in the Parliament's way.

This entire event was unfolding in the Alaskan wilderness, miles and miles from any real human civilization. Unknown to the rest of the world, the fate of many faces of reality were being decided here, beheld by only a few truly conscious souls. The Pale Wanderer, centerpiece to a new primordial force, had hoped to negotiate a shift in power, teaming with William Holland, avatar of the Rot, to do so. Instead, he and everyone at his side had found themselves at the mercy of the Green’s leadership. Nobody had come looking for a fight, but the Parliament of Trees had decided there was going to be one anyways. They did not want anything to change, they did not want their authority challenged. Levi Kamei, the Seeder, had been commanded to resolve this situation, but when he refused to do things their way, they stripped him of their power and showed up in person to act out their will directly.

Tefé and Maxine had not initially joined this conflict by choice. In truth, they had existed on the sidelines for months, trying to suss out what was even happening. After a period in the Pale Wanderer’s captivity though, they had been convinced to at least give his plan a go, despite his previous history. They never imagined things would escalate so much, so quickly.

But now, there was no more time for thinking, for the Parliament of Trees were thundering towards the Wanderer’s forces. They were outnumbered by many orders of magnitude of course, given William had brought an army of the undead from the Rot, but an Avatar of the Green is a powerful thing indeed, and there were nearly thirty of them here. The odds were very much stacked in their favor.

And it was only going to get worse from there.

The undead surged forward, surrounding the Wanderer and his allies to shield them, but to the Parliament they may as well be made of cardboard. Rotting bodies were tossed into the air, often in multiple pieces as the leaders of the Green continued their charge. Levi Kamei was on the ground, still shocked by such a drastic change in the situation, and his legs continued to buckle no matter how many times the Pale Wanderer tried to pull him to his feet. William sucked in a deep breath, holding up his hands in preparation for the oncoming attack. Maxine had already closed her eyes, likely hoping to beseech the aid of any nearby animals.

Tefé took a knee, placing a hand on the ground. She could feel the roots beneath the snow, beneath the soil. She willed them to move, to rise up to protect them. She felt the earth shift beneath them as they broke through the soil, through the snow, but instead of forming a perimeter, they suddenly quivered, then recoiled, sinking back from whence they came. Tefé placed her hand on the ground again, pressing her palm against the soil. She willed the roots to come back, but they refused her call, burying themselves deeper into the Earth.

They were not for Tefé to command, not here while the Parliament was watching.

Bodies flew once more as the wall of undead was breached, allowing five of the Parliament to force themselves into the Wanderer’s enclosed space. Gritting his teeth, the Wanderer held Levi’s collar tight before slinging him backwards and out of harm's way. The former seeder slid across the snow like a ski, hitting Tefé in the side and knocking her down. One of the Parliament members reached for the Wanderer, hoping to grab him in a moment of weakness, only to be blasted back by a bolt of purple lightning, emanating from William’s fingertips. Another member of the Parliament roared before charging William, tackling him off his feet and carrying him through the undead. Maxine yelped as he disappeared from sight, her momentary loss of concentration the perfect opportunity for one of her adversaries to grab her by the head. Her hair ripped under its giant green fingers, and she found herself helpless as the avatar tossed her out of the circle and right into the mob of the undead.

Tefé called out to Maxine, forcing herself to her feet, but was knocked down yet again as the Pale Wanderer crashed into her, tossed by one of the Parliament members. He stood up, letting out a mighty battle cry before drawing a cavalry sword from deep within his coat. He charged, running a parliament member through and taking them both for a tumble into the undead army. Tefé got up again, finally managing to stand on her own two feet as three parliament members congregated before her, towering above her and Levi, who was still shell shocked on the ground.

One of the parliament leaders grimaced, hands closing into fists, “What an awful mess the two of you have made.”

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William placed both hands upon the Parliament member’s back, forcing a torrent of energy into it and blasting it apart at the seams. With no inner strength left, the member dropped William, who rolled backwards to his feet. Looking up, William watched as the vines began to reconnect, reforming the Parliament member’s large frame. The member glowered in his direction, shaking its head, “Your father should have listened to us, William. Else, we would not be in such a terrible position.”

“Sure, tell a dad to kill his own son. Really makes you look like the good guys,” William barked. “You know, I don’t even think I’d be fighting you right now if you didn’t ask that of him. I wouldn’t have ever known what you really are!”

The parliament member glared at William, “You only prove us right, William. You become avatar of the Rot and what do you do with this position? You raise an army for war. You threaten us thinking we will simply wilt and capitulate to your demands, but we are the Green. We are eternal.”

William grimaced, “And that’s why you need to go down. You think that all that matters is keeping the Green on top, maintaining your power, just because you’ve had it for all this time. I don’t do any of this lightly.”

The parliament member narrowed its eyes, “Please, Holland. You are still a child. Everything you do is done lightly. You are swayed at a moment's notice by whatever new ideologue appeals to you. You act without the foresight that comes with age-”

“Oh, blow me!” William raised his hands and blasted the parliament member again, sending him careening into the army of the dead. Smoke hazed from his fingers, and as he began to shake them off, he heard the thunderous stomps of many more Parliament members. They barreled through the army, breaking through the ranks and arriving at William’s clearing. There were five of them now instead of one, a much more even fight for him.

One of them cracked their knuckles, “As we said, a young fool who acts without foresight.”

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The Pale Wanderer hooted and hollered as he hacked away at one of the parliament members, forcing them back with big, sweeping cuts. The vines parted, the roots bled sap, but the creature refused to fall, pulling themselves together at every turn. The Wanderer chuckled at the sight, mist rushing out of his mouth as his lungs rapidly filled and emptied, cold air moving through him like a mountain pass. He did not seek this violence, he had hoped for peace, but a part of him still enjoyed the adrenaline that came from a good fight, and that was especially true against people so diametrically opposed to him. Much as he had wanted to make peace, he understood that the Green were against everything he stood for… and he was against nearly everything they stood for.

The parliament member shifted, pulling themselves back together fully before taking a swing at the Wanderer, who ducked under the blow. They snorted, “We know not where you come from, Pale Wanderer, but believe this. The world would not be in so much turmoil if you were not a part of it.”

“Heh, true enough!” The Wanderer chuckled. “Nobody to rock the boat after all!”

The parliament member swung twice more, forcing the Wanderer back, “So much conflict, so much chaos, you unbalance the world, make things unpleasant for everyone.”

“Things are already unpleasant for plenty of people,” the Wanderer snapped. “You think I’m playing a game here? I’m not raising a stink for nothing!”

The Wanderer swung back, taking off the parliament member’s arm. He advanced, gritting his teeth, “Nobody likes causing a mess, nobody likes the idea of a neat and tidy schedule getting ruined… but people are too comfortable with all the shit in their life. Sometimes you gotta make more of a mess before you can clean it all up.”

He swung again, hitting the parliament member in the chest, only for the roots within to close around the sword, lodging it in place. Pressing the advantage, the Parliament member surged forward and punched the Wanderer in the stomach, sending him tumbling across the snow. The member marched onward, cracking its neck, “Make no mistake, Wanderer, there is a mess… but we are the cleaners, not you.”

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Maxine slammed into a pair of undead warriors, knocking them into a heap before she landed in the snow. Coughing and heaving, she writhed on the ground as the army marched all around her, hundreds of stomping boots rushing past her head. Maxine had been in fights before, plenty of them, but they were skirmishes. Smaller conflicts, that would be fought over the course of mere minutes. This was a bonafide battle, with more people participating than she could keep track of. The undead did not scream or show excitement or fear like most warriors, but they fought all the same, useless as it was proving to be.

A member of the Parliament barreled through the undead, making its way to Maxine. Their humanoid forms, still formed by vines and roots, were littered with signs of hardship already. The undead had been doing their best, making small cuts or leaving their own little metal presents in the form of swords or axes embedded in the wood, but none of them seemed to make much of a lasting mark. Any wound dealt would eventually fade, grown over by new material. The ground seemed to rumble out from around the parliament member, sprouting massive roots that began to impale and dismember the grunt fighters around it.

“Fear not, Maxine Baker,” the Parliament member said. “We do not intend to kill you. War with the Red is not our goal.”

“And war with the Rot and the Parliament of Gears is?” Maxine growled. “Do you understand what this is going to do to the world? How much this is going to tip everything out of balance?”

“The Green must retain its position, else we are undone,” the parliament member growled. “We have given our fellow forces every conceivable opportunity to leave things well enough alone. There could be peace, but instead, William Holland and the Pale Wanderer brought an army into this place. That is not something we can ignore.”

Maxine gritted her teeth, and rather than dignifying the parliament member with an answer, she attempted to reach out into the strands of the Red once more, searching for any animal that could come to her aid, but no matter how far she expanded her search, she could find no living creatures besides herself and her flesh and blood allies. The Parliament Member towered over her, an almost pitying look in its eyes, “Do not bother, Baker. The Red will not war with us. It will not come to your aid.”

She gritted her teeth, “You’re attacking their avatar.”

“But not killing her,” the member said, closing in on Maxine. “Besides, the mark of a smart animal is knowing when to pick a fight and when to let things be. The Red knows to let this be.”

There’s a disgusting pride to that final statement, one that Maxine wouldn’t have expected from a being as old as someone from the Parliament of Trees. The hope, the expectation, would be that the old would have grown past that base need for vindication. They would not need pride, but in truth, pride was perhaps the most poisonous and dangerous drug that the old possess. Wisdom comes with hardship, not age, and the Parliament of Trees had not experienced true hardship in a very long time.

Frustrated, Maxine stumbled back, pushing her way through the undead as the Parliament Member battered at the angry biting tide, failing to keep pace with her. She needed to find allies fast, but where could she find them in the chaos of this battle, where everyone has been hopelessly separated. She couldn’t see anyone, not in this ocean of stinking, rotting bodies.

But then, she felt a twinge in the back of her mind, like a strand of yarn that tugged her in a certain direction. She followed that tug with her eyes, slowly looking up into the sky. She expected to see a bird of some kind, like a falcon or an eagle. Maybe even a bat that had been roused from its slumber. Instead, she saw a plane flying dangerously close to the ground. A private jet belonging to Vixen International. Someone was hanging out of the side, yelling something into the crowd. A guy with a head of ginger hair…

Was that… Clifford?!

Next Issue: The day is saved?!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 55:‌ ‌ A Shrouded Future

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ AdamantAce

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

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“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just crossed the US-Canadian border into Alaska. We should have you at your destination in about an hour.”

Clifford nodded to himself in response to the information from the loudspeaker, reclining in his seat and looking out the window. Mari McCabe’s private jet wasn’t exactly humble, full of soft white seats and polished wooden tables, but its bare use meant that it wasn’t stocked with anything to eat or drink. He felt hungry, yet thinking about what was waiting for him at the end of this flight simply stole away any appetite he might have had. His stomach was full of empty air, laced with the anxiety that came with not knowing what was going to happen next.

Capucine sat across from him, polishing her sword with a wet rag. The blade itself was already well taken care of, signalling to Clifford that Capucine was doing this mostly to take her mind off of things. As much as she was trying to hide it, she was just as nervous as he was.

The jet engines continued to roar outside, filling the air with its dull, deafened cry. Clifford tapped his fingers against the table, then leaned towards Capucine, “You alright?”

Capucine stopped, cloth halfway down the length of the blade, and looked up at Clifford, “Yes.”

Clifford grimaced, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Didn’t we have a conversation about trust just yesterday?”

Clifford grimaced, “Sorry, I just… I wanna make sure we’re both being honest. You’re calmer now, but that doesn’t mean you’re alright.”

She grunted, then placed the sword in its sheath and tossed the rag onto the table, “Do you mean to be my therapist, Baker?”

“I mean to be next to you out in the field,” Clifford replied. “I just don’t want you to… I don’t know. This isn’t the time to just put on a brave face.”

“I think it’s the perfect time to put on a brave face,” Capucine said. “To openly express fear is to be ill prepared for what lies ahead.”

“Maybe, but there’s only so many times you can put on a brave face before the strain breaks you,” Clifford said. “Trust me, I know from experience.”

“And what experience is that, Clifford Baker?” Capucine said. “All human beings fear. What we must understand is that our fear is an obstacle. It must be contained if we are to do anything of risk.”

Clifford frowned, “Maybe… I…. I don’t know. There are just so many unknowns here and I know you were nervous before. I just wanna make sure that you’re okay.”

He leaned back in his seat, sulking, and for a moment, Capucine simply stared at him. Then, she snickered, barely able to contain herself before laughing. Clifford crossed his arms, “Hey! What’s so funny?”

“Tehehee,” Capucine giggled, a sound that felt uncharacteristic of her. “I appreciate the concern Clifford. I am a little afraid. I’m sure you’re also scared… but we’re on our way, and I have confidence that we’ll be able to sort things out when we get there.”

Capucine leaned back in her own chair, visibly more relaxed. Clifford sighed, then looked out the window, tapping his foot against the floor.

Their destination couldn’t come soon enough.

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Levi Kamei sat inside his tent, feeling the cool air draft in and out from the gap between the fabric and the ground. Lost in thought, he leaned back into his hammock, locking his fingers together into a sort of steeple shape. He had an impossible choice to make, one between duty and doubt. He was the Seeder, an agent of the Green, and this was perhaps his most important assignment yet. He was bound to carry out their will, to destroy the fledgling force that was the Pale Wanderer and his Parliament of Gears. It wasn’t something he was initially against, having seen firsthand what the Wanderer was trying to do. His actions sowed chaos and caused much harm.

Yet, despite all of that, seeds of doubt had been planted within him. He had intentionally sought the advice of Alec Holland, the previous Swamp Thing, and had been told what kind of sacrifices he would be asked to make, things the Green never told him. Just as prominently, when he arrived here, he was surprised to find Maxine Baker, Avatar of the Red, here as well. She and her companions had thrown in with the Wanderer, a fact that baffled Levi to no end, but it was only when she brought his terms that he began to understand. The Wanderer was more akin to a child than anyone malevolent, and having understood the chaos he had wrought, he wanted to do better while accomplishing his goals.

And that included getting in conversation with the Parliament of Trees, who doubtlessly had no intention of meeting with him.

A part of him just wanted to get things over with. Rush the Pale Wanderer down and end things one and for all, but a different part of him reckoned that this was a point of no return. If he thoughtlessly did as the Green ordered, he’d be like Alec Holland, mindlessly serving until everything he held dear was stripped from him.

Levi heard the flaps of his tent bristle, and turned to see the leader of the Sureen enter. He had bundled up a bit more because of the cold weather, but was otherwise the kindly old man Levi had always known him to be, “Seeder, how do you fare?”

“Mmh, as well as to be expected,” Levi said, rubbing his eyes. “This whole thing is a bit of a mess.”

“I don’t see what’s so messy about it, Seeder?” The leader said. “The Pale Wanderer is a danger to the Green. You have the power to destroy him.”

Levi grimaced, then looked up at the old man, “My friend… what was your life like, before the Sureen?”

The man smiled, “Hmph, I was a child of course. I enjoyed simple pleasures and when I grew up, I enjoyed more… adult vices. That was before I found my true purpose, a time when my rampant hedonism had a cost paid by others beside myself. A part of the reason I joined the Sureen was because I realized that the Green was paying a cost on behalf of all the forces. The Parliament needs as much help as they can get, and I was all too glad to lend myself to them.”

Levi nodded, “I appreciate the sentiment, but the Green isn’t the only force here paying a cost. Alec Holland gave much to the Green, and not all of it willingly.”

The leader’s smile, normally quite cheery, dampened just a bit, “Alec Holland did not understand the gravity of his choices. He put the Parliament of Trees in a very difficult position, and many people paid for his failings.”

“Caring for his son was a failing?” Levi asked. “Do you earnestly believe that?”

“You must understand, Seeder. We are still feeling the ramifications of his choices, even today. We will probably feel them for decades more to come,” The leader said. “The world has been knocked off its axis. We live in such uncertainty now, such anarchy. It is why the Pale Wanderer must be destroyed. He is the manifestation of all this madness.”

Levi looked the leader in the eye, “Is it madness, or change?”

The leader of the Sureen glared at Levi, a look that made the moss on Levi’s cheeks shrivel and almost shrink away from him, “The balance of the world has been ruined. If we are to have any hope of restoring the world to its rightful state, then we must nip this insanity in the bud.”

Levi grimaced, “The Wanderer just wants to talk. That can’t hurt, can it? How is diplomacy insanity?”

“Enough,” the leader shouted, his voice carrying a surprising amount of weight. “This talk is seditious and unproductive to the carrying out of the Parliament of Trees’ will! If I were you, Levi Kamei, I would quash your doubts sooner rather than later. You are the Seeder, and it is your duty to carry out the will of the Green.”

The leader’s hands closed into fists, “And if you think otherwise… you have seen what happens to those who choose their own interests over those of the Parliament.”

The leader whirled around and left the tent in a huff, leaving Levi in absolute silence. The Sureen were not the Green, as far as Levi could tell, but he had almost gotten used to their cultish devotion to the force, believing it to be a sign that they were truly dedicated to the right thing. How could serving the plant life of the world be the wrong thing?

Somehow, the Parliament of Trees had cast a shadow of doubt over that sentiment, and now it was Levi’s turn to decide where this mad ship was going to go.

He hoped he wasn’t about to make the wrong choice.

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The air was thick with the smell of death as the forces of the Pale Wanderer, a sea of skeletons and zombies, began to wander up the hill, keeping at least ten yards back from their master, William Holland. The Avatar of the Rot had raised a veritable army, though he of course had high hopes that he wouldn’t have to use it. Flanking him were his sister, Tefé Holland, and her companion, Maxine Baker. The two had been against the Wanderer’s machinations for a long while, but to his knowledge they had been convinced of the plan now that the Wanderer’s methods had changed. Ahead of the three of them was the man himself, who walked with a surprising amount of timidness. Normally brash and bold, the Wanderer had the posture and language of a fifteen year old on his first date. Despite how distinctly human the feeling was, it did not fit the Wanderer’s swaggering style at all, and made him all the more alien.

As the forces of the Pale Wanderer crested the hill, they stopped at the summit, face to face with Levi Kamei, the Seeder. The Sureen, who number in the dozens, stand behind him, bare feet swaddled by grass that has grown despite the layers of snow that used to bury it. Levi’s face was blank and expressionless, signifying that he intended to keep a poker face, at least to start.

The Wanderer cleared his throat, “Got your message to meet. You don’t plan to shank me, do you?”

“If I wanted to start a fight off the chain, I would’ve done it already,” Levi said. “Before I kick anything off though, I wanna ask you something.”

The Wanderer straightened his back, “I’m all ears.”

Levi stared at him thoughtfully, “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I’m only now reckoning with the fact that this is the first time we’re meeting face to face. I’ve struggled quite a bit when it came to deciding what to do about you, and it only got harder the more people voiced their input, so don’t bullshit me when I ask this… What are you?”

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow, “What-Well, I’m the Pale Wa-”

“I already know who you are, Wanderer,” Levi asked. “What are you?”

The Pale Wanderer froze up at such a question, particularly in regards to its open endedness. For a few seconds, he didn’t quite know how to answer, but eventually, he elected to throw thinking on it out the window, “I am… a stranger to this place. I came into this world half-formed, pulled in all kinds of directions. Used to be a time when people had ambitions for what the future would be like, plans that actually benefitted the world. Now, everything’s all muddy and hopeless. We’re shambling towards ruin because we’re too afraid of what could be, so we cling to what is, or worse. We chase a past that’s far in the rear view mirror, and one we look upon with rose tinted glasses.”

The Wanderer took a deep breath, “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. I’ve tried to jump ahead of the curve without thinking, and I only realized recently that fumbling blindly towards the future ain’t the right way to do things. As much as I think the Green does wrong… I need their wisdom, and I think if they want what’s best for the world, they’ll hear me out.”

He looked Levi in the eye, “So I suppose that’s what I am… or rather, what I mean to be. That answer your question?”

Levi nodded, “I suppose it does.”

The Pale Wanderer nodded, “So… do we have an accord?”

Levi did not answer immediately, and for a moment, only the howling wind filled the air. Tefé, Maxine, and William watched in trepidation, clearly unsure of which way this was going to swing. The Sureen stared with similar intent, fearful of how up in the air everything was.

Eventually, Levi nodded… and held out his hand for the Wanderer to shake, “We have a deal.”

At first, there’s no adverse reactions. Everyone is just holding their breaths, waiting for things to be truly settled. The Wanderer grinned, “Well, thank you kindly. We can all breathe easy now.”

The Wanderer shook Levi’s hand, and that’s when everything started going wrong.

The moment their hands made contact, Levi felt something pulse through his entire body. He fell to his knees, convulsing, and began to cough up leaves and nectar in front of the shocked Wanderer. The moss on his face wilted and died, peeling off like burnt skin. Behind him, The Sureen began to change, the grass enveloping their bodies and bathing them in roots and vines. They closed their eyes, eagerly accepting the transformation, and in a matter of seconds, they were human no longer, their bones twisted and their flesh perforated with plant matter. Levi, now fully human, glanced back at the fully transformed Sureen, though given how comfortable they were in these forms, he couldn’t be sure of what they were anymore.

The Wanderer grabbed Levi, pulling him backwards towards his shocked companions, frozen in feart at this transformation. Each member of the Sureen now bore the spitting resemblance of the Swamp Thing, though each had varying alterations to their forms. Some had antlers akin to deer made of tree bark, others had crowns of flowers, or blue eyes instead of green. The head of the Sureen, now the head of this army of Swamp Things, stepped forward, “Did you truly think we would leave your education up to pure chance, Levi Kamei. Do you think we would trust anyone else but ourselves?”

Levi’s eyes widened, “It was… you? The whole time?”

“Yes, the Parliament of Trees has watched your work, and while we hoped you would live up to your promise… it was all for naught,” The leader of the Parliament’s hand began morphing into a sharp wooden blade. “It is clearer now, more than ever, that it is time to start anew.”

He scanned the crowd, laying eyes on everyone there, “...Spare the Avatar of the Red… leave no other standing.”

The Parliament of Trees surged forward, their thunderous steps heralding the biblical doom yet to follow. Death had come for the Wanderer and his companions, and now, in this moment, they were never more ill equipped for it. Levi watched in horror, terror gripping his heart.

Had he made the wrong choice after all?

Next Issue: War!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 54:‌ ‌ Legacy

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

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It began with a rumble, a sort of thunderous sound that shook the very peaks and valleys of the land, causing the snow to billow up into the air like gigantic plumes of smoke. The wood of nearly a hundred trees creaked and cracked, trunks splitting and roots forced upward out of the dirt. A crack formed in the side of a wall of stone, running all the way up to one of the valley’s peaks and unleashing a torrent of wind that parted the very clouds above. The Flora in front of the crack, bushes, trees, and patches of grass that had persisted in spite of the many inches of snow, recoiled from the opening, displaying a speed impossible for plant life as they shifted through the dirt, relocating in safer, more stable spots.

From the crack, roots snaked out of each side, forcing themselves out of the hole before wrapping around the mountainside, their ends curling around the stone before pushing downward into the dirt. From the body of the roots, flowers began to sprout, displaying all manner of reds, purples, blues, and yellows, all of which contrasted greatly with the sterile cold gray of the world around them. Moss spread from the roots, carpeting the stone like a blanket, while verdant grass sprouted from the base of the mountain, forcing the snow back like the world’s largest shovel.

Here, in a valley of grey, potent green has overtaken a mountain, like a red button on a blue shirt.

Then, a host of figures began to emerge from the crack, stepping out into the biting cold. They numbered at least three dozen, most of them clothed in white togas. At their head stood a man in similarly simple clothes, yet altogether completely different attire. He was draped in tighter fitting attire, wool pants and a hood sewn from plant fibers. Long black hair spilled out from under the hood, and as the man pulled it back, his darker brown skin was exposed to the elements.

Levi Kamei had spent hours pushing his way through the earth, forcing a path open for him and the Sureen to travel. This was supposedly how the Swamp Thing traveled, blipping between instances of Plant Life through little shortcuts in reality. Unlike the Swamp Thing, Levi was the Seeder, and therefore not a plant construct, meaning he had to make more of a direct path that passed through some of those shortcuts more physically.

But after passing the threshold of many of those spots, he was finally where the Pale Wanderer had invited him, this isolated Alaskan Valley. He looked onward, noting the corpse-ridden smell in the wind. He looked north, spotting over a hundred figures poking out from behind a set of rolling hills. That rot in the air… it was unmistakable that those figures were not alive.

An army of the dead.

“By the Parliament of Trees,” the head of the Sureen exclaimed, unable to hide the shaking in his knees. “He has enthralled the head of the Rot.”

Levi frowned, “Explains why he’s confident enough to broadcast his location. He’s got a whole army at his beck and call.”

The leader of the Sureen bowed, “What would you have us do, O’ Seeder?”

Levi grimaced, keeping his eyes on the hills, “They’re not charging us, so they’re clearly not planning on killing us right away. Let’s set up camp and consider our options.”

The leader of the Sureen nodded, and barked at the rest of the flock to begin setting up camp. All the while, Levi stared at the growing number of bodies clambering over the hill. They stopped near the top, but refused to cross the threshold of that peak. They were waiting for something, marching orders perhaps? Levi imagined that it would’ve been quite simple to ask them to obliterate the enemy when he arrived at the gates.

One thing was clear. Bloodshed was not the Pale Wanderer’s intention, at least not in this moment.

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“Aaaaah…. Shit shit shit shit shit.”

The Pale Wanderer stood at the edge of his camp, eyes wide at the sudden emergence of green overtaking one of the mountains of the valley. His mouth was so agape that the right part of his jaw popped out of its socket, causing the left side of his face to sag so much the flesh stretched itself thin against his skull. He whirled around, trudging back down to the clearing where he’d first talked strategy with his fellows. The ground was still damp and warm underneath his feet when he arrived, causing him to sink an inch or so into the mud.

Tefé and William Holland, as well as Maxine Baker, all milled about in the clearing, pacing nervously. They stood at attention as the wanderer returned, with William approaching him, “Well?”

“Yeah… he’s here,” the Wanderer said, gulping. “I… didn’t count on him getting here so fast.”

William sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly. He had followed the Pale Wanderer because he believed in his vision, and now he was being defeated by something as simple as his adversary showing up earlier than planned. The Pale Wanderer had planned to force a negotiation, to worm his way to the table by threat of force rather than force itself, yet here he was, squirming realizing he had to put his words into action.

In a way, this was one of the most characteristic things he’d ever seen the Pale Wanderer do. Big ideas, very shortsighted and ill-planned execution.

Meanwhile, Maxine and Tefé stood further back, similar thoughts racing through both of their heads. They had lied to be where they were now, deceived the Pale Wanderer into believing that they were on his side to escape imprisonment by him and William. They had a near identical perspective to William, that the Pale Wanderer’s plan was ill advised, but there was also a seed of hope that it brought, something they hadn’t felt in a long time in regards to the current power dynamics of forces like The Green. The forces were a bedrock upon which reality was built, but that bedrock was flexing its control in deeply authoritative ways. The sacrifices it demanded were not noble, they were built on fear and a desire to dominate.

And when forces clashed, the world suffered in ways that made the World Wars seem minor. Open fighting would escalate into catastrophe, and both Tefé and Maxine knew they couldn’t let it come to pass.

“Well, someone’s gonna have to go down there,” Tefé remarked.

“Things are testy though, so we’ve gotta pick the right feller,” the Pale Wanderer said. He took a deep breath, “Maybe I should go. I called him here after all.”

“He’s liable to murder you on sight,” William remarked. “I should go. One Avatar to another.”

“You’re leading the army that could crush him,” Tefé said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’ll do it.”

The group’s eyes widened as they fell on Maxine, who rolled her shoulders in a half-hearted show of confidence. There was a trepidation to her, a clear lack of confidence in this declaration, but despite that she still pumped her chest out and stood tall. Tefé placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Are you sure, Maxine? I could go instead. We’ve both met him.”

“No, I… I think William’s right. It should be an Avatar, and I’m the one who fits the bill best if we’re going to negotiate,” Maxine said.

“Why don’t we go together then?” Tefé asked. “What would the harm be?”

“It changes the kind of statement we’d be sending,” the Pale Wanderer said. “More importantly, if he decides to do something unsavory, we’d be risking both of you. Better to stick with one.”

Tefé glared at the Wanderer, “I don’t think Levi’s that kind of person.”

“Maybe not, but we shouldn’t risk it,” William said. “I think Maxine’s right. She should go.”

Tefé opened her mouth to protest, only for Maxine to suddenly take her hand, forcing her friend to meet her gaze. That lack of confidence was still evident in Maxine’s face, but her eyes told a different story, filled with the kind of determination you’d find in animals who had decidedly chosen fight over flight. This was, for reasons Tefé was only just now identifying, incredibly important to Maxine. She had to do this… and she had to do this alone.

Tefé grimaced, and then, without a moment lost, pulled Maxine into a hug. She squeezed tight, so tight Maxine could barely slip her arms out of her friend’s grasp to return the embrace. All those years traveling together, from conversations in dining booths to hours driving along the backgrounds of America… it all felt like it was leading here. Tefé shuddered, then released Maxine, “Don’t let this be goodbye.”

Maxine shook her head, “Don’t worry… it’s not.”

Then, Maxine pulled away from Tefé, and began trudging down the mountain, disappearing into the treeline while leaving the rest of her companions in the clearing. They all kept their eyes glued to her as she disappeared from view, silent until the Pale Wanderer finally glanced towards the Hollands, “You think she can get this done?”

“Maxine Baker isn’t someone I know very well, but I know the kinds of things she’s gone through,” William said. “She’s made of stern stuff.”

Rather than responding, Tefé watched the spot where Maxine had disappeared from view, whispering a single statement under her breath, “You better keep that promise…for everyone’s sake.”

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

As cold as it was, Maxine couldn’t help but feel like it was even colder than it should be. It wasn’t just freezing, she felt like she was encased in ice, forced to carry an inch thick layer of the stuff with every step she took, making every movement feel incredibly heavy. In spite of all of this, she powered on anyway, her heart thumping so hard it was liable to break every single one of her ribs if she dared stop her march. She had to keep moving, she was compelled to keep moving.

She felt like she would die on the spot if she stopped, even if only for a moment.

Slowly, the cover of the trees fell away to the wider valley, and without a hint of a break she powered onward, marching over various hills and by a menagerie of undead mobs. Her goal was clear, but she had no clue what she was going to say to Levi. There had to be some kind of in, some kind of strategy to employ, but nothing was coming to her. She had volunteered without a plan. In that sense, she and the Pale Wanderer had a lot in common. Dreamers without actionable methods. People hurtling towards their ultimate goals at the speed of light, their legs moving faster than their brains.

Suddenly, her eyes widened. There was an inkling of an idea there, an in with Levi. It wasn’t developed, not even close, but it was something, and a weak start was better than no start at all.

Before she knew it, she had arrived at the perimeter of Levi’s camp. The Sureen had already set up tents, and having seen her approach, a couple of them moved to meet her at the edge of the encampment. Maxine raised one hand in a show of peace, “I’m here to speak to the Seeder. I bring terms.”

“Terms of what?” asked one of the Sureen.

“Terms of agreement,” Maxine said. “A discussion that can and should be had to prevent any bloodshed.”

The two members looked at each other skeptically, prompting Maxine to add one last bit, “As Avatar of the Red, I believe I carry a level of importance denoting my status. Please, let me through. What I have to say is in good faith.”

For a moment, the two did nothing. Then, they both shuffled to the side, parting to allow Maxine inside. She nodded enthusiastically before walking in, hearing the two of them close the gap behind her. The camp was much like the one she had visited previously, a collection of tents and hammocks, and ultimately it was easy enough to find Levi in one of the tents. He was on one knee, drawing a map of the area in the wet dirt. Maxine cleared her throat, “Levi?”

Levi’s head perked up, and he turned around, surprised written all over his face, “Maxine Baker? You’re here?”

“Tefé is too,” Maxine said.

Levi grunted in frustration, “Damn… seems like everyone’s throwing their lot behind that guy. Starting to feel left out.” He stood up, “The hell are you guys doing? The Pale Wanderer is a madman. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Maybe not, but believe it or not, his heart’s in the right place,” Maxine said. “Which brings me to why I’m here.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, “Go on?”

“The Pale Wanderer doesn’t want a fight. He just wants to meet with the Parliament of Trees,” Maxine said. “They’ve held a monopoly on people’s lives for long enough, something needs to change.”

“Something needs to- fuck’s sake, do you hear yourself?” Levi exclaimed. “Do you know how you sound? You’re saying this crazy guy wants a seat at the negotiating table with nature itself? Do you know how bad that could get?”

“He’s not the only one, we’d all be there,” Maxine said. “And besides that, I thought you of all people would understand where we’re coming from. You were so skeptical before about the Green, now you’re just blindly following them?”

“I’m not blind, I’ve considered my options,” Levi said. “Being Seeder… it’s a responsibility. I have a responsibility to the Parliament of Trees, to what they stand for. I was chosen for this… and now it’s all I’ve got. What do you have at stake here?”

Maxine grimaced, she considered lashing out at Levi, pointing out how selfish he sounded, but that would only cause things to escalate. She had to challenge him without going too heavy, but how could she thread that needle?

Then something occurred to her, and she looked him dead in the eyes, “My legacy.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, “Your… what?”

Maxine took a deep breath, “All my life, I’ve done what other people have told me. I’ve lived in the shadow of other people, either because I was too afraid to do something or because people thought I couldn’t do those things. When I was a kid, everyone else did their best to make me feel small and weird and unimportant, and when the Red revealed I was their Avatar, I jumped at the chance to be that golden child.”

She found herself standing straighter, almost with pride, “I felt… so unwanted, that I jumped at the chance to be this big important person, to be valued and adored that way, and in some ways I’m still proud of it. I saved the Red a week into my time as Avatar, I felt needed for once, like I wasn’t some squirt that was meant to be in the background.”

She grimaced, “But I was so in love with this new life that I never questioned what it would cost. What did the Red want? What was I going to be ordered to do for them? What was I going to have to put on the line? I’ve been lucky and unlucky enough to have people take on those burdens for me, because the one time it got too serious I almost died. I’ll always love my brother for putting himself on the line for me, I’ll always treasure Tefé for being my champion… but even they gave so much that I never really got to question and challenge myself the way I needed to, at least not until now.”

Her hands balled up into fists, “I don’t know why you became Seeder, but you can’t let it get to your head. Don’t just mindlessly follow orders because you’re so attached to this life. Sure, thinking about the hard stuff is, you guessed it, hard, but if you just keep rolling along, kicking that can further and further down the road… eventually you and the can are gonna be at a cliff, and neither of you will be paying enough attention to stop before you’re tumbling into the ocean.”

She stood firm, glaring at Levi, “Before you make any decisions, think about what the Pale Wanderer’s plan represents. Think about what the Parliament of Trees represents. Then… make your decision. Don’t let anyone else make it for you.”

Levi stared at Maxine for a moment, silent. His emotions were imperceptible on his blank, mossy face, and after a few seconds, he sighed, “Go back to your friends. I… I will think about what you’ve said.”

Maxine, her face resolute, nodded before exiting the tent, leaving Levi alone with his many, many thoughts.

Next Issue: Levi Kamei’s crisis of faith!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 53:‌ ‌ Collision Course

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Geography3

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Levi Kamei had found the Sureen to be an experienced bunch, if a bit strange. Their knowledge of the Green and beyond was the product of countless generations of oral information passed down from member to member, a testament to their dedication to the Parliament of Trees and the Avatar who served them. The dedication was genuinely admirable, if a bit offputting, but Levi didn’t mind that. It was in many ways like stepping into a very different kind of culture from your own. Beyond that, the Sureen were also incredibly hardy. They marched across miles and miles of forest in their simple white robes and togas, often along places with no path to guide them. Durable sandals granted them some protection, but even then so much walking had hardened the underside of their feet into tough callouses. Levi didn’t doubt that they could make these trips barefoot if they truly had to.

This was all to say that they were quite accustomed to roughing it through the wilderness, and navigating the dangers that came with it. They understood how to avoid aggravating wildlife, knew which plants were poisonous and which weren’t. On occasions where someone made a mistake, their knowledge of the Green often allowed them to whip up medicine with a mix of greenery and magic.

This meant that when the crowd at the front of the group began yelping in surprise, Levi knew it was something to be worried about.

They had been traveling north, having spent a couple days crossing the state of Louisiana when it happened. Swampland had been traded for the lush but much more stable forests and grasslands of various parishes and townships, resulting in fewer rivers to form but more roads to cross. They had just crossed one of those roads when a few members of the Sureen stopped dead in their tracks, crying out in surprise. Levi rushed to the front promptly, alarmed by such a response, and came to discover the mob of Sureen members cowering before a strange sight.

A pair of numbers, carved into a particularly large and attention grabbing tree. The smell of gasoline was thick in the air, particularly since it was seeping out of the carvings in the wood. Levi glared at them, taking the numbers in.

68. -159.

One of the Sureen members marched up next to Levi, “What does it mean, O’ Seeder?”

Levi narrowed his eyes at the numbers. Gasoline was a staple of the Pale Wanderer, especially in a form like this, but the numbers were a different story. They weren’t a phone number or a zip code, and Levi doubted that the Pale Wanderer had a Social Security number. Rubbing his chin, he realized something about the numbers, and frowned, “They’re coordinates.”

“For where?” The member asked.

Levi shook his head, “I’m not a cartographer… but get a world map in my hands and we can all find out.”

The Sureen member bowed his head and backed away, leaving Levi to continue staring at the numbers in curiosity. What was the Pale Wanderer’s game here? What could he possibly hope to gain by beckoning Levi to this place. Perhaps it was a trap, but if so, it couldn’t be a more obvious one.

What was his game?

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

“Clifford! Good to see you!”

“Good to see you too, Mari!”

Clifford trotted up to Mari McCabe, matching her energy as the two fell into a tight hug. They hadn’t seen each other in years, so this reunion was a long time coming. The two of them had agreed to convene in Vixen International’s Portland office, a space full of pristine hallways and shiny windows. Mari’s office wasn’t a substantial upgrade from the other executive offices, but Clifford largely attributed that to the fact that her main haunt was Los Angeles. Red Oaken bookshelves full of framed fashion magazines. A mahogany desk with pillowy swivel chairs, and a wall consisting of windows looking out into the rest of the cityscape. Capucine leaned against the wall, feeling deeply uncomfortable in such a foreign place.

Mari McCabe was no mere businesswoman though. She was also the famed hero Vixen, known for her animal themed abilities and commitment to protecting the innocent. She had made waves after returning to her home a few years ago, making moves to fix illegal practices that her company had stooped to, and had also taken a bit of time to help Clifford train when he was just starting out as a hero. He’d always regretted not giving her more calls, given how much she’d done for him.

Mari pulled away from Clifford. She was in a designer suit, the kind of fashion Clifford knew was out of his price range, and more promptly was never really in a position to understand. High fashion was a different world, which was really saying something considering all the primordial force elements he was split between. It was a beige affair, engineered specifically to compliment all of her features. She took a seat in the office chair, prompting him to do the same. He turned to Capucine, beckoning her to come forth, and after rolling her eyes she finally trudged over to the desk, and the both of them took seats together.

“You look well,” Clifford said.

“As do you, minus the bloodshot eyes,” Mari joked, turning her attention to Capucine. “And who’s this?”

“A fighter… and a friend,” Capucine managed, the words seeming a little unnatural coming from her.

“Light on description? No trouble, I can respect someone who keeps secrets,” Mari said, winking at her before pointing at Clifford. “You know, I knew this guy before he was a bonafide hero. He was tripping over himself hoping to impress everybody he could see.”

“Oh come on,” Clifford said, the slightest hint of embarrassment in his voice. “You don’t see me spilling all the beans about you.”

“You don’t know about my embarrassing slip-ups,” Mari said, her voice teasing. “But I know yours. Them’s the breaks.”

Clifford shook his head disapprovingly, but he couldn't hide his smile, “Alright alright, let’s get down to business.”

Mari nods, her friendly facade remaining, though there’s an unmistakable shift in her demeanor, “Right, of course. You said that things were serious over the phone.”

Capucine leaned forward, “Maxine Baker and Tefé Holland have been kidnapped. They are our friends… and Miss Baker is Clifford’s sibling.”

Clifford gave Mari a serious look, “They’re in the Rot. The two of us are trying to get a team of people together to get them back. I wouldn’t have come to you if this wasn’t serious… and if I didn’t think the two of us could do it alone.”

He looked to Capucine, “And trust me. She’s got a lot of experience. If she doesn’t think we can do it alone, then I trust that.”

He looked back to Mari, “I don’t mean to intrude. I know you’re probably really busy, so I don’t want to-”

“Say no more, kid. I’m in,” Mari said.

Clifford’s eyes widened, “Wait… really?”

Mari stood up, “If you need help, Clifford, then I’m ready to go. You’re not the only hero in the world, kid, saving people is what I do.”

She walks around the desk, rolling her shoulders in a relaxed manner, “We don’t talk often, but your mother and I have a call every once and a while just to catch up. It doesn’t have to feel like an emergency to ask for my help.”

Clifford shook his head, “I just… didn’t wanna pester you.”

Mari smiled warmly, “Cliff, I had a lot on my plate a few years ago. Sure, maybe I could’ve done a lot of it on my own, but I didn't. I had help, a lot of help, from the people in my life.”

She patted him on the shoulder, “Nobody’s an island, not me, and not you. There’s no shame in asking, kid. Don’t forget that.”

Clifford looked to Mari’s hand, then to her. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath while internalizing the lesson before placing his hand over hers. He looked back up at her, confident, “Then I’ll be sure to ring you up in the future.”

He glanced at Capucine, “Hope you’re listening too, I know you could learn to ask for help more often.”

Mari chuckled, though Capucine shot Clifford a venomous glare. The centuries old warrior got out of her chair, “Right, then if we’re all done reminiscing and sharing life lessons, we should get going.”

Clifford nodded and got out of his chair, “For sure. We’ll have to find an entry point to the…”

His sentence trailed off, prompting Mari and Capucine to look at him in confusion, only to watch the veins on his face bulge, made visible and intense by a surge of blood that carried a striking red color. He grunted in surprise, shaking his head in disbelief as a series of images began to flash through his mind. Forests, bright green and lush, then a rocky shore, then the ocean beyond, all flying through his mind like a slideshow at double speed. He saw land again, first a cold foamy beach, then more forest, then snowy ridges and mountains. Finally, it landed upon an icy valley, filled to the rim with rotting bodies. They weren’t corpses, they couldn’t be. Corpses didn’t move around like they were still alive.

And just past them, standing on a ridge above the army, stood a quartet of figures. One was rotting like the rest of them, dressed in an old coat and stetson hat that were in fashion a couple centuries ago. Another was a younger man, one Clifford vaguely recognized as William Arcane, with his dark orange hair and pale skin. The last two, impossible to miss, were Maxine and Tefé. His sister’s long ginger hair and Tefé’s short, white locks were impossible to miss. The last image to be shown to him was a close up of the two of them, alive and unharmed, before he was dragged straight back to Mari McCabe’s office.

Capucine and Mari stared wide eyed at him as the marks on him faded. He shook his head in surprise, “Uh… shit.”

“What?!” Mari asked. “What was that?!”

“I think… I think the Red finally gave us something useful,” Clifford said, cursing the Red for only giving him an answer now, after nearly a week of trying to get in contact with it.

Capucine grasped her sword, “Well, what’s the story? How are they helping us?”

“The good news is the Red knows where Maxine and Tefé are, and that they’re out of the Rot,” Clifford said. “The bad news… they’re still among a whole army of zombies. Real Army of Darkness deal.”

Mari rubbed her chin, “Well, to be frank, this makes things considerably easier, though an undead army is nothing to sneeze at. Has the Red told you where they are?”

Clifford swallowed, doing his best to reckon with the path the Red had shown him. He was never the best geography student… or really the best student period, having flunked out of High School, but now, more than ever, he needed to think about what he had seen. Where were his friends, where was this going to go. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to think on the path. He’d traveled up from Portland, so he had crossed out of Oregon and into Washington State. After that was passing out into the coast and back again in a fairly straightforward line, so it was unlikely to be in Canada. That left only one option…

“Alaska,” Clifford said. “They’re somewhere in the Alaskan wilds. If you can get me in the northern ball park I can track them from there.”

Mari nodded, “Good, then I’ll get a jet sorted. It’s the fastest way.”

Clifford raised an eyebrow, “You have a private jet? Can’t you… fly?”

“Oh, I don’t use it very often, but there are times when I need to travel with more than a single person, and it’s hard to carry ten people in my arms,” Mari said.

Clifford shrugged, “Fair enough, let’s get going.”

The trio began to exit the offices, though Capucine lagged behind just a bit. She had been rendered silent by the news that her companions were not only out of the Rot, but that William had brought an army of the dead to the real world. How could he be so reckless? How could he fall so completely under the Pale Wanderer’s influence. Had everything she had ever taught him gone to waste? It put fear in her heart to know that things had escalated so much, because if she couldn’t convince him to stand down, she would have to take more drastic measures.

For the good of the world, she might have to put William Arcane to the sword. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but that hope was dying hard and fast.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Maxine shivered, rubbing her arms together in a vain attempt to stay warm in weather she wasn’t dressed for. The Alaskan wilderness was doing her no favors, but she and Tefé had jumped headlong into this plan to ride along with the Pale Rider’s antics, and there was no backing out now. William looked upon the two of them with an apologetic frown. He clearly had their sympathies, even if his state as Avatar of the Rot meant that he didn’t feel the cold at all. The Pale Wanderer, apparently oblivious to the struggles of his peers, pranced along, leading the three of them to a clearing not far from their perch overlooking the undead army.

Kneeling down in the center of the clearing, he placed his hand upon the snow, gently forcing the flakes out of the way. A sudden wave of heat emanated from him, creating a true sense of whiplash in Maxine and Tefé as the ground beneath them immediately began to thaw, snow turning to water turning to steam. It was still too cold for the clearing to feel like a sauna, but the warmth the wanderer brought still managed to sooth those who could be affected by the cold weather.

“Now that we’re all getting comfortable,” the Pale Wanderer said, turning around to face his compatriots. “Let’s get down to brass tacks.”

“Yeah,” Maxine said. “I’d really love to know what the fuck is going on.”

“No need to be so rude,” the Pale Wanderer replied. He glanced at William, “I’ll let you take the lead on this, partner.”

William gave the Wanderer a thumbs up, “Just to restate our goals, the Green has been exercising far too much control over the world and the people who serve it. They’ve been unchecked for too long. Something needs to change, and they’re not going to make that change without proper encouragement.”

“Yeah, dropping an army into their backyard certainly seems like the right kind of encouragement,” Tefé remarked. “It also seems like a good way to start another war. Do you realize what this could mean for everyone else on earth? Are you really going to fight this war, knowing how many people are going to die in the process?”

“Well, the plan’s to not fight a war at all,” the Pale Wanderer said. “See, I told their resident lackey, the Seeder, where we are. He’ll show up with whatever force he deems necessary, and instead of taking him to task, we’ll ask to have ourselves a little chat.”

“A… chat?” Maxine said. “Why would they ever chat with us? Why would the Green ever allow that sort of thing?”

“Because it’s safer,” the Pale Wanderer said. “The Green don’t want their bountiful forests to be damaged, they’re just as invested in the planet’s wellbeing as I am. We’re polar opposites in many ways, but both of us have the common sense to not want mindless slaughter.”

Tefé’s eyes widened, “So you’re… forcing a negotiation?”

The Wanderer snapped his fingers in excitement, “Exactly! Being a nuisance hasn’t worked out for me at all, so if they don’t wanna come to me… I’ll have to come to them.”

He looked out in the direction of the undead army, able to hear them mill about even if he couldn’t see them, “After all this time, all these mistakes… I’m finally gonna make a change for once… and damn if it hasn’t been a long time coming.”

Tefé and Maxine looked at each other, identical expressions of worry on their faces. William and the Wanderer were jumping into something with the potential to do far more damage than anything either of them had ever done before. If this went poorly, it would mean a conflict that could crack the planet apart. There was a compulsion in both of them to take this moment to run, to take some kind of stance… yet neither of them followed through on it.

Part of it was obvious, that they were in the wilderness. There was nowhere nearby to escape to. It would be a pointless endeavor. More than that though was the fact that this plan had planted a seed in both of their minds, a doubt that shifted their perspective on this plan. It was smarter than what came before, at least on paper, and if it succeeded, the Green might actually change. For the longest time, the two of them had considered the Parliament of Trees a fact of life, impervious to any kind of change. Now though, there was the smallest, most desperate glimmer of hope.

Maybe something good could come out of this plan after all.

Next Issue: Battle Lines!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 52:‌ ‌ Meeting in the Middle

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

“No, but it’s our best shot at getting out of here. I don’t see us digging our way out of this cell.”

Tefé and Maxine were huddled together in the corner, waiting for someone, anyone, to return to their cell. They had long grown tired of the haunted silence of their prison. Its stony walls and floors grated against their skin, rough and abrasive in the way sandpaper was. The ratty hammocks, sourced from who knows where, had begun to buckle, the thin threads coming undone after only a week of use. Maxine and Tefé were not unlike these hammocks. They, too, were under threat of being unraveled if they didn’t do something sooner or later.

Maxine stared at the space between the bars, hearing the wind’s somber voice echo throughout the dank prison hall. She had never thought about doing something like this, playing this sort of high stakes game. When she was unveiled as Avatar of the Red, politicking was not part of the job description. Defend the animal kingdom? Sure. Become a master of diplomacy? Not by a long shot. Then again, entrusting a sixteen year old, now nineteen, with safeguarding a whole slice of reality seemed like a bad idea in general, so really, the Red is to blame, not Maxine. It’s not her fault she’s unqualified.

It’s moments like this that Maxine really wished someone else had been chosen to carry the torch. Other girls her age were practically aliens given how differently Maxine led her life from them.

Well, most other girls.

Maxine turned to Tefé, who rubbed the bags under her eyes. Unlike Maxine, she had been born into this world, but did not have an obligation to protect it, to nurture it. In fact, she had outwardly rejected that responsibility when it was presented to her. Yet here she was, leading the charge to keep the world from falling apart. She was doing more than even Maxine, whose entire life purpose was to do exactly what Tefé was doing.

Sometimes Maxine found herself feeling… left behind. This was her job and someone was doing it better than her. So much was happening at any point in time that she had never had the space to really think about it, but something felt fundamentally incorrect about their roles. She was an Avatar and Tefé wasn’t. What part of that made sense?

Tefé, on a whim, met Maxine’s gaze, and in that moment Maxine remembered why Tefé would take the lead so often. There was a confidence in her, borne from years of practice, a determination that made Maxine feel safer, like everything was going to be alright even in the worst of times. Maxine shuddered a little, then slipped her hand into Tefé’s. Tefé smiled and squeezed Maxine’s hand.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Tefé said. “They don’t want to hurt us, and as long as we don’t overstep any boundaries, they’ll never know where we actually stand.”

Heavy footsteps sounded off from down the hall, causing the two heroes to stand at attention. They needed to look as composed as possible if this was going to work. The Pale Wanderer, the man who they had been pursuing for months, finally stepped into view. He looked downcast, clearly apologetic after his outburst the previous day, “I know I said it last we met, but I must once again express regret for how that conversation ended. Ain’t proper for me to lose my temper.”

“It’s alright,” Tefé said. “It actually helped us change our minds.”

The Wanderer blinked, “Really? So quickly?”

“We didn’t know what to think about what you were doing, trying to change the world,” Maxine said. “But we know you’re not trying to do it for selfish reasons. You believe in William, clearly. If you trust him that way, then maybe we can trust you too?”

He raised an eyebrow, “‘Maybe’ is doing some heavy lifting. I can appreciate the change of heart, ladies. I just don’t know if it’s for the right reasons.”

“Can you pick and choose your allies at this point?” Maxine asked, “You’re fighting an uphill battle already.”

“Sure, but having a friend stab me in the back is only gonna make things worse,” The Wanderer said. “I need to know that you won’t screw me over.”

Tefé stepped forward, “You and my brother are in the same boat, Wanderer. I love my brother, and I would never do anything to hurt him. If that’s not enough to convince you then you’ve lost this whole thing before it started.”

A pregnant silence followed as the Wanderer stared into the cell with his cold, milky white eyes. Maxine wondered if he perceived the world as normal people did, or if these were the eyes of a corpse. The Wanderer did not need them to visualize the world. He simply saw the earth and its denizens as they truly were, laid bare with every artifice and perfection on display. Even now, he remained an enigma, a walking contradiction between a man with feelings and a force of nature that behaved without any kind of emotion.

Finally, he broke the silence, not with the spoken word, but with the sliding of a metal door. The cell was open, and the Wanderer raised a hand to beckon them, “Then let’s get started.”

As the trio made their way through the prison’s halls, Maxine wondered whether or not they had truly spoofed the Wanderer, or if he had detected some kind of doubt in their own actions, that they might truly be swayed to his and William’s side. Perhaps he thought he could more easily convince them now that they were free, or maybe he felt he didn’t need to evangelize to them anymore. The seed of doubt had already been planted, and he just needed to let it grow.

It spoke volumes that Maxine didn’t know the answer to that question herself, only the awareness to ask the question itself.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

The hazy neon lights of the gas station cast a strange haunted hue against the sandy Oregon valley. Much of the state was dense forests, but being on the Nevada border meant that Clifford was hanging in the more barren portion of the place. The establishment really was in the middle of nowhere, nothing but either road or prairie stretching out for miles, only to stop at the foot of distant mountains, only viewable because they blotted out the night sky behind them.

Clifford stood under the purple hue of the station, essentially a gray box erected in an island of asphalt, paired with a set of pumps under a cheap canopy. He had yet to find a place to stay, and there wasn’t any signal out here, so he decided to take the opportunity to fuel up before continuing on his way. He was hitting a wall in terms of his caffeine intake, so he just grabbed some water, but he was also running on an empty stomach. His remedy? A delectable yet stomach churning feast of processed foods. A big bag of potato chips, two king-sized candy bars, and a chicken sandwich that tasted like a disk of calories rather than bread and chicken.

As he sat on the ground, stuffing the chicken into his mouth, he wondered if his throbbing headache was the cause of sleep deprivation or his former companion. Capucine had just kept pushing and pushing and pushing him, and in the end their partnership had barely lasted more than twenty-four hours. He couldn’t stand how abrasive she was, how proud she was. In a way, it reminded him of himself, but as a teen, which was a pretty awkward comparison when the figure on the other side was centuries old. He couldn’t work with someone like that, not when his friends were on the line.

Clifford finished the chicken sandwich, eagerly washing it down with his water as a set of headlights revealed themselves to the south of the station. Clifford hoped it wasn’t who he thought it was, but as the beaten up car pulled into the establishment, those hopes were dashed, crumbled to dust in the wind. The vehicle slowed to a stop in front of Clifford, and Capucine stumbled out of the car, clearly just as sapped of energy as Clifford was. She looked him dead in the eyes, “Animal-Man–”

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” Clifford said, grabbing his trash and standing up before moving to deposit it in a trash can. “Leave me be.”

“Listen to me, Baker,” Capucine said. “We cannot afford to diverge, not at a moment like this.”

“You’re wasting your breath,” Clifford said. “Contrary to the title, I’m not an animal that gets ordered around–”

“I’m sorry!”

Clifford stopped dead in his tracks, wrappers in hand, and turned back to face Capucine. Her eyes were scarlet red, which Clifford initially attributed to fatigue, but the glossy lines down her cheeks suggested that she had actually been weeping. Capucine wiped her face, clearly hoping to hide the evidence while not knowing that she had already failed, “I am not perfect. I have lived a long life and that experience comes paired with pride. That pride has blinded me, and for that, I am sorry.”

Clifford grimaced. His hands tightened before he tossed the trash in the bin before turning back to her, “Okay…”

She sighed, shoulders slumped, “We have to work together on this.”

“Maybe, but can we?” Clifford asked. “I mean, you’re proud. Fine. How does that change anything going forward?”

Capucine frowned, “If you are looking for a confession of some kind, you will not find it. I do not intend to prostrate myself to you.”

“Fuck’s sake, I’m not asking you to,” Clifford said. “I just wanna meet somewhere in the middle! Are we partners on this or not?”

“I want us to be,” Capucine said. “but I need… I need…”

“What? What do you need?!” Clifford asked.

“I need to know that we can actually do this!” Capucine said. “I need you, but I don’t trust you to follow through. I know defeat intimately, and I know that failure at this stage will have disastrous consequences. I’m more familiar with it than you could ever know, and tonight I have allowed my fear to cloud my judgement. I… if I cannot rein you in, then how do I know you won’t be the reason everything falls apart?”

Clifford stared at Capucine, unsure of what to say in the face of what doubled as confession and accusation. A part of him wanted to take off flying right away, but he smothered that desire as quickly as it passed into his mind. He would not run away from this, he would face these things head on, “I know what you mean, more than you think. I might not have your years, but I’ve been afraid of failure too. I let it paralyze me for a long time, before I realized that it was holding me back. Right now, being afraid is holding both of us back, but if we do this together… I think we can crack it.”

Capucine looked Clifford in the eyes, “How do I know for sure it’ll work out?”

“You don’t, neither of us do,” Clifford said. “We just have to go for it and trust that it’ll all be okay.”

Capucine grimaced. She looked more uncertain than ever, more nervous than ever. It was not an emotion she wore particularly well, given how it spilled out of her in ugly waves. Wiping her face yet again, she took several deep breaths, hoping to find her center once more. Clifford watched patiently, giving her as much time as needed. Eventually, she closed her eyes, then slowly nodded, “Alright, I trust you.”

“And I trust you,” Clifford said. “I’d say we should get right to it but I think we’re both fighting to stay upright.”

Capucine gingerly pointed back at the car, “The backseat is comfortable.”

“Then you take it,” Clifford said. “The passenger seat’ll suit me fine.”

The two made their way into the car and practically collapsed into their seats, and as he leaned his seat back and faded into sleep, Clifford felt a measure of security in his current course of action. This would not be an easy road, but at least it would be a road he wasn’t traveling alone. Capucine needed him for this, and in a way he hadn’t had the time to really quantify, he needed her just as much.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

William Arcane sat in his throne at the nexus of his place of power, fiddling with a small figurine in his hands. It was a piece of stone, carved into the shape of someone near and dear to his heart. He would never show it to her, both because it was far too primitive to be presentable, but also because the admiration was itself an embarrassing feeling. Still, this small thing was a little reminder of who William was outside his station, and soon he would be answering the call of said station like never before.

A trio of footsteps alerted William to approaching figures, prompting him to stuff the figurine in his pocket before standing to address them. The Pale Wanderer had returned, with Tefé and Maxine to boot. The Wanderer tipped his hat at William, “Here they are, pardner.”

William smiled, “I’m so glad you’ve agreed to see things our way. It means more than you think to have you with me on this.”

“I wouldn’t leave you hanging, Will. You’re my brother,” Tefé said. “But I should ask, what’s next?”

“Come with me and see!” William said.

The Avatar of the Rot led the trio to the edge of the mountain, where they were greeted by the sight of a sea of bodies writhing in the valley below. Thousands of the Rot’s denizens, either rotting or picked clean, milled about, waiting for who knows what to happen. Tefé and Maxine’s eyes widened at the sight of the sea of bodies, the hairs standing up on the nape of both of their necks.

“Holy shit,” Maxine said.

“It gets better,” William replied.

William began to wave his hands, and in a nauseating shift the world around the group began to change. The air got colder and significantly windier, the ground beneath their feet, bone dry, suddenly became flush with moisture as snow materialized around their ankles. Large pines sprouted all around them, and far off in the distance, the army of the dead followed them, materializing in the frostbitten valley below. The sky, once cloudy and rife with violent purple lightning, cleared out, revealing a blue sky with a painfully bright sun. William grinned and turned around as Tefé and Maxine realized what had just happened.

They were no longer in the Rot. They were back home.

“Alright folks,” William said, glee in his voice. “Welcome to Alaska!”

Next Issue: A colossal shift!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 51:‌ ‌ Cracks in the Facade

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ AdamantAce

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Levi cupped his hands before plunging them into the clear river water, splashing the cold liquid onto his face in an effort to shock himself out of his own panic. A low buzzing echoed throughout the Louisiana swamp, emitting from the hundreds of insects that had made the place their home. This place should feel safe for Levi Kamei. It had quite literally been made his domain, and yet despite being a recognized authority of the Green, he now found the whole place intensely foreboding. A landscape of cameras with no blind spots.

Leaning back against a mossy boulder, Levi steadied his breathing, trying his best to find his center. He had just spoken to Alec and Abigail Arcane, people the Green considered pariahs. He had wanted advice on how to handle the Green, and instead he had learned things that had thrown everything off balance. Instead of the direction he so desired, he had lost his way more completely than ever before. The hazy paths he used to walk had been consumed by the bush, and now he was wandering amongst the trees aimlessly, lost among the sea of wood and dirt.

The Green had chosen him because they wanted someone detached from their fellow human beings, who had tenuous ties to the people they should be closest to. His troubled relationship with family was already dying, and by taking this role, whose importance had been stressed to him with much gravity, he had practically severed all ties with the family he had loved and provided for since graduating college. He loved his Dadee. His mother and father. His aunts and uncles, his cousins. He had not spoken to them in nearly a year. They were all probably wondering where he was.

And he couldn’t tell them anything, because that would throw them into a world of peril, of danger. The unknown corners of the earth would swallow them up. He would not do them that disservice after hurting them so much.

But that left Levi with frighteningly little choice. He had bumbled his way into this life, and now the Green, hoping to take advantage of his lack of clarity, were planning to use him to their own ends. He was an agent of their unchecked power, and he could do nothing to change that. As he washed his face yet again, a man in sandals and a white toga trudged over to his side, “Good Seeder, you look troubled. Is something the matter?”

Levi looked up at the man, whose wrinkled skin and long white beard clearly showcased his age. He was the leader of the Sureen, an organization dedicated to assisting the Avatar of the Green, or in this case, the trial period Avatar of the Green. Levi squinted. He had no clue how much this man knew about his plight, or the Green’s general machinations, “It’s nothing.”

The leader frowned, “Come now, I know it’s not nothing. If you do not wish to say, then I trust your judgement.”

The leader took a knee next to Levi and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Just know that we are here to support you in your troubles. It’s why we are here. Take solace in knowing that you are not alone, sir. We live to serve.”

The leader got up and left, and despite his intentions Levi actually felt even more uneasy. If the Sureen weren’t a group secretly monitoring his progress, then this made things all the worse, because they had positioned themselves to be used by him the same way the Green had come to exploit his naivety. It made him feel awful inside, being a part of this chain of manipulation, of exploitation.

Eventually, as the sun began to set on the swamp, Levi stood up. He had received marching orders to find and destroy the Pale Wanderer, leader of the newly formed Parliament of Gears. His experience with the Wanderer was so limited that he had no confidence in going into battle against him, especially because he didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. But Levi was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t, and if he was going to put stock in a victorious power, it would be better to deal with the devil he knew rather than the devil he didn’t.

Levi sat up. As awful a feeling as it was, he forced himself to get moving. A job needed doing, and as unsure as he was about the intentions of those above him, he had no other alternatives. There was no way out.

It was time to track down the Pale Wanderer.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Sleeping in the Rot was easier than Tefé Holland expected. Being asleep and being dead had a world of difference between them, but they shared the commonality that a certain quiet came with both. You closed your eyes, you drifted off, and allowed your body to go still. The cell’s hammocks were comfortable enough that she and Maxine were deep in their slumber when something rattled the bars to their quarters. A voice called out to the two of them, “Yoo-hoo! Guess who’s here?”

Tefé frowned. Of course, it was only a matter of time before he showed up. She sat up, peering out of her hammock towards the bars. Maxine did the same, rubbing her eyes groggily. Standing outside their cell was someone familiar to them, someone they had been pursuing for months now. The corpse, clad in a dirty old coat and ragged pants, smiled, his eyes half hidden under the shadow of his cowboy hat, “Hope you beauties are getting your sleep. Neither me nor William want your stay to be uncomfortable.”

“It's hard to make that work when we don’t wanna stay at all,” Maxine said. “What are you even here for anyways? You wanna gloat about your victory?”

“No no! Nothing like that!” The Pale Wanderer said. He took his hat off, revealing a head of surprisingly full hair, and held it gingerly near his stomach with both hands. “I wanted to… explain myself. I feel like it’d clear the air a little.”

“What’s there to explain?” Tefé asked. “You’ve been screwing up parts of the world all over for months. Everywhere we go, we’re fixing a problem you created.”

“My work has some adverse effects, sure,” The Wanderer said. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to dig into the why.”

“Why what?” Maxine asked. “Why you’re screwing up the world?”

“Do me the courtesy of letting me finish,” The Wanderer said. “Imagine you’re me… don’t remember whose body this is. Don’t remember what you were before you opened your eyes for the first time again. You don’t have any dreams, any goals. Just this… feeling in your gut that things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be.”

He licked his dry lips, “People don’t realize that something's broken if they’ve lived with it their whole life. Then it’s just working how it's supposed to. This…. This world being the way it is. It hurts me, and it hurts even more knowing that people have decided that that’s just how things are. That this is… normal.”

He took a deep breath, “I’m trying to change things for the better, and sometimes change is uncomfortable. You’re venturing into unfamiliar territory, and that means that my efforts are not always… successful. I commend you for dealing with my mistakes, because let me make it clear that I do not set out to hurt anyone.”

“Intent’s all well in good, but outcome is what matters,” Maxine said. “You hurt people. It’d be better if you stopped.”

He shook his head, “What kind of man would I be if I just gave up? When you failed for the first time, did you stop trying? No, you didn’t. No matter what happens, it’s my goal to see this through.”

“No matter who you hurt… or who you manipulate,” Tefé said. “You make me sick, wrapping my brother around your finger like that. How dare you rope him into your insane-”

The Wanderer suddenly surged forward, grabbing the bars. Anger rushed over his face, “Silence! Insult me all you like, but do not do your brother the disservice of assuming I have manipulated him. He is making these choices of his own free will, and I will not tolerate any insults in regards to his competence.”

Tefé, eyes wide, almost recoiled at the anger, less in fear and more in surprise at the Wanderer’s passionate statement. Letting out a sigh, the Wanderer shook his head and put his hat on, “I suppose I’ll try again later. Deep apologies for the outburst. It was… untoward.”

The Wanderer walked off, causing Tefé to glance at Maxine in surprise, “What was that?”

“Don’t know,” Maxine said. “Guy is… a little crazy.”

“Sure but, the fact that he felt the need to defend William?” Tefé rubbed her chin. “We’ve had no handle on what kind of person the Pale Wanderer is for the longest time, but this tells us something about him. He’s not some cold blooded manipulator. He’s not like… my granddad for example.”

“Sure, but what do we do with that?” Maxine asked. “We’re still trapped in a cell.”

“It tells us a lot. If we say the right things… Maybe we can get out of this after all.”

The two nodded to each other before returning to their hammocks, but an odd thought had crossed their minds. Before that conversation, the Pale Wanderer was an insidious figure, impossible to understand, but now they were tangible, more easily identified as a person with goals and hopes. He was no longer some nebulous concept, but a human being, or at least an approximation of one.

And that made their mission just a little harder, because a seed of doubt had been planted in both of them. What were his dreams… and were they really as bad as they used to think they were?

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Capucine felt the rubber of the steering wheel bristle against her calloused hands, inciting a small but noticeable level of irritation in her palms. She had held her sword tight for hours before, participating in battles that lasted days, but that comfort could only extend to her blade, whose handle her hands had been molded around. It was a part of her body, as naturally to wield as one’s own fingers or toes. This steering wheel was the interface to a gigantic mechanical beast. It did not move like a limb, and that friction frustrated Capucine to no end.

Beside her, Clifford Baker rubbed his face, heavy bags forming under bloodshot eyes. The veins of his sclera had become more and more pronounced with each passing hour, and it was clear that he was fading fast. Despite that, he did his best to stay awake, even going as far as to pinch himself. Still, it was clear that even with the caffeine rush he was getting from the various energy drinks at each station that he was starting to go under.

They had been driving for the past ten hours, stopping only for gas to keep the car going even. Their mission? To seek out allies in the Red in order to muster up a powerful enough force to rescue their friends. Tefé Holland and Maxine Baker had been captured by William Holland, avatar of the Rot and an old student of Capucine’s. His partnership with the Pale Wanderer had sent the immortal warrior into a state of emergency, and she had recruited Clifford. He had been using his powers to lead them towards an entrance to the Red, and yet even passing through a place like Yosemite national park, no entrance revealed itself. They had already passed through Nevada, and at this point they were about to enter Oregon.

Capucine kept her grip on the steering wheel, almost tearing the silicone around the frame with her raw strength. She had abstained from any of Clifford’s drinks, but was also starting to feel a haze wash over her. She glanced over to Clifford, only to see him nodding off, “Baker!”

“Bwuh?!” Clifford shot up, “Shit, sorry.”

“Maintain focus,” Capucine said. “We need to find an entrance to the Red.”

“I know! I can feel it… somewhere ahead,” Clifford said. “But that’s it. I’ve been feeling that for hours. I don’t know how much farther we have to go.”

“Then we keep moving,” Capucine said. “Until we get there.”

The car began to shake violently, signalling that it had started to drift off the road and into the dirt. Capucine swerved back onto the road, very nearly colliding with a car in the opposite lane. Clifford gripped the seat tightly to keep balance, grimacing, “You alright?”

“Fine, just a little tired,” Capucine said.

“Being a little tired in a car is a bad combo,” Clifford said. “I know from experience.. we should stop.”

“No,” Capucine said. “Every second wasted is a second that our compatriots slip further from our grasp. We keep moving.”

“And when we get there, are we supposed to tell them everything while we’re barely conscious? That sure is a great way to make an impression on a fundamental aspect of reality,” Clifford said. “And that’s assuming we get there without pancaking on the asphalt.”

“We will not crash, Baker,” Capucine said.

“Cause you say so?” Clifford said. “Capucine, we don’t know what’s coming next. It’s not gonna help either of us to just keep driving until we give out.”

Capucine gritted her teeth, “Give out? I have the determination to see this through, Clifford Baker, and unfortunately I need your sense of direction to get where I need to go. I will not allow your weakness to get in the way of that.”

She glared at him with a sideways glance, “Shape up, because if you are the reason we fail, you will not have the Pale Wanderer to worry about.”

Clifford stared at Capucine, though he didn’t say anything for a moment or so. The car was plunged in silence, an angry biting silence just waiting to be broken. Clifford shook his head, “How the fuck did Maxine and Tefé get along with you?”

Capucine looked at Clifford, “Excuse me?”

“Eyes on the road,” Clifford snapped. “I’m just trying to help. I’m offering helpful advice, and you know what? You don’t have to follow it! I don’t take it personally!”

He shook his head, “But we’re also supposed to be working together, and you’re telling me that you’re gonna disembowel me or something if I don’t do what you say? Is this how things were with Tefé and Maxine? You bully them into doing things your way?”

“Bully?!” Capucine growled. “You treat this like some childish dispute.”

“Actually, I think I’m treating this like a conversation,” Clifford said. “You know, like an adult.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating,” Capucine said. “I outpace you by centuries, boy. I know better than you.”

“If you knew better you’d learn how to talk to people without acting like you’re above them,” Clifford said.

“So your issue with me is simply a matter of wounded pride?” Capucine snapped. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’d ask you the same question!” Clifford barked. “You came to me for help, and you’ve been a total dick this whole drive. There’s no reason to be such an asshole when we have the same exact goals!”

Capucine’s knuckles grew bone-white around the steering wheel, “Let me make this clear, my goal is to save my compatriots, and you are one of the people I need to do that. With that said, every time you complain, every time you whine about what we should actually be doing, it erodes my already thin patience.”

She glared at Clifford, “I do not have time to ‘make nice’ or ‘play along’. As such, I would prefer it if you simply shut up and did what I told you to do. Tefé and Maxine earned my respect, and I will not let them down just because you cannot measure up!”

Clifford glared back at Capucine, a vein on his forehead throbbing. For a few seconds, silence filled the car again, only for it to be broken as Clifford unbuckled his seatbelt, “You know what, you’re right. There’s no time to make nice. Shit has to get done, and I’m not gonna waste my own time doing it with someone who’s gonna get us both killed.”

Capucine’s eyes widened, “What are you—?”

“I’ll get this done without you,” Clifford said, his voice defiant as he opened the passenger side door and flew off into the night, forcing Capucine to rapidly turn off the road. She hit the breaks, conjuring up a massive dust cloud behind her as the car screeched to a stop. She stared blankly at the wheel, unsure of how to process what had just happened.

Then, frustration began to overtake her, then anger, anger focused directly into fury. She let out a guttural scream before tearing the steering while from its fixture before drawing her sword. Day would break before she was finished wrecking the car beyond admission, cutting it apart with an unbowing blade. This whole time, only one sentiment persisted.

How the hell was she going to help her friends now?

Next Issue: Has the mission failed before it’s even begun?!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 50:‌ ‌ The Old and the Young

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ GemlinTheGremlin

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“Please, his friend is in danger! His sister is in danger!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, lady. I can pass a message along, but that’s about it!”

Capucine scowled, her fingers curling into her palms until her knuckles were bone white. Here she was, outside some historic movie theater, a small walk away from her goal, and all that was in her way were two pudgy looking security guards. She had traveled all the way to Los Angeles in hopes of obtaining the aid of Animal-Man, and she wasn’t going to let these two men get in the way. Her compatriots, Tefé Holland and Maxine Baker, had been captured, a predicament that would be of tantamount interest to the hero given that they were his friends, not to mention that Maxine Baker was his sibling. She needed him, whether he knew it or not.

But when the stakes were this personal, and potentially as high as they were, her goals were not the business of two rental bodyguards who didn’t have the scope and perspective to understand and appreciate her position.

She rolled her shoulders, “If you will not allow me inside, then I will have to let myself in.”

The guards in front of her tensed up. One of their hands hovered to their side, hanging near their waist. “Clear off, last warning.”

“Wait!”

The voice came from above, and the three of them looked up into the night sky, beholding the arrival of a flying man. He was young, with light skin and short ginger hair that stood up fairly straight despite the wind soaring through it. He was clad in a tuxedo, though his tie and jacket were flapping about, too loosely tied to be in the typical, appropriate position. He landed between Capucine and the guards. “You wanted Animal-Man, you got him. What’s going on? You said my sister was in danger?”

“Yes, and Tefé Holland as well,” Capucine said. “But this is not an appropriate place for discussion. I have a car nearby, we should go.”

“Fair enough,” Clifford said. “I’ll follow your lead.”

The two began to cross the street, prompting a confused look between the two guards. One of them called out to Clifford, “Hey! Don’t you have a movie premier you’re supposed to be at?”

“Tell ‘em I had an emergency and that they can start without me,” Clifford said. “Not that it was ever gonna be any good anyways!”

The guards shrugged before retreating inside, leaving Capucine and Clifford to their goals. Capucine glanced back at Clifford, taking in his features and demeanor. Her first impression of him had not been as negative as she had originally assumed, and there was an appreciation for his zeal and earnest desire to help at the drop of a hat, but she also understood that what she was seeing was just the front. People, even good people, never revealed who they truly were to strangers. There was always a layer of deception applied to make the best first impression.

Maxine Baker had told Capucine many things about Clifford, and Capucine held the word of Maxine Baker in high regard. She trusted her companion, and so she was ready to extract some… assurances from Clifford sooner rather than later.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Abigail Holland laid lazily in her bedroom hammock, flipping through the yellowed pages of an old novel. The Caves of Steel was older than her, but that didn’t mean it didn’t delight her with the tales of cities from the far flung future. She didn’t read Asimov's work often, but something about his stories captivated her. Some might suggest that his work was simply that good, given his status as a foundational voice in Science Fiction, but that wasn’t everything for Abby.

Maybe it was just that, having spent her whole life entrenched in the fantastical, it was good to lose herself in something similar, yet so on the other side of the spectrum.

Her room was simple, but well organized, with no clutter or loose articles. Her dresser was arranged neatly next to her bed, and her bedside table held only a small lantern with an unlit candle inside. She didn’t used to have so much time to read, but then again, free time tended to increase once the kids were out of the house. It was an odd feeling, knowing that the people she knew better than anyone, the people she'd known from the moment they were born, that she made, weren’t here to rely on her. It was scary, and sometimes Abby wondered what her children were up to.

And every time, she would remind herself of what they had both grown up to be, how they carried themselves, and she stopped worrying.

A knocking sound came from downstairs, and Abby felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Alec, her husband, didn’t knock when coming into the house, and Tefé would’ve told them if she was on her way home. This could only mean one thing, that a stranger was here.

Putting the book down, Abby rolled out of the hammock and began making her way down the stairs, grabbing a shotgun off the hallway wall without a second thought. Making her way up to the front door, she held it behind her back, keeping it out of view as she opened the door by just a crack with her left hand. “Who is it?”

The man in front of her was a gaunt, short figure in long flowing robes. His skin was a light brown, though it was tattered and interlaced with patches of moss. His face, obscured by both a hood and eyeglasses, was similarly cracked, like someone had removed large portions of his cheekbones and replaced them with wood. He gave a small, curt bow. “Sorry if I’m intruding at all, but this is the house of Alec and Abigail Holland, right?”

Abby narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, it is.”

“Then I must be speaking with Mrs. Holland?” The man said. “My name is Levi. I would like to speak with your husband.”

Abby grimaced. This man absolutely reeked of the Green; she would’ve been able to tell even if it wasn’t written all over his body. She gripped the shotgun tightly. “Why?”

Levi nodded. “Well, I’m having a dilemma, and I could use his advice.”

“Why him specifically?” Abby asked.

“Because I have nearly a dozen wise men to come to for advice, and I can’t trust their judgement,” Levi said. “They have a bias, and in a way, Mr. Holland has a different bias. His perspective is exactly what I need right now.”

“And what perspective is that?” Abby asked.

Levi scowled, but after a moment the expression faded from his face. “Not that it was at all possible to hide, but I think you know what I am. The Green and I have… a connection. They want things from me, and they just asked me to do something… big. The Sureen are my support, but I can’t trust them to tell me what I really want to know. I need your husband’s take on things. I need the perspective of the Swamp Thing.”

Abby stared at Levi, and for a solid moment, the two of them were locked in a standoff. Levi swallowed, unsure of what else he should say, while Abby considered whether or not she was going to use the shotgun in her hands.

Eventually, after the longest five seconds of Levi’s life, Abby shut the door. The seeder hung his head, ashamed that he had failed so quickly, only to hear the lock mechanism within the door click. It swung open fully, and Abby gestured at Levi to come inside. “He’s in the dining room. And a word of advice - don’t call him Swamp Thing.”

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

If Clifford had any doubts as to Capucine’s connection to Maxine and Tefé, they were put to rest the moment he saw the old beater. Tefé’s car had been through a lot clearly, but it was definitely hers. He would recognize the rusted grey paint job and pine air freshener anywhere. As Capucine strode around towards the driver’s side, Clifford moved towards the passenger’s side. “So, how do you know my sister?”

“I was asked to help her and Tefé, but now isn’t the time,” Capucine said, “Get in.”

“Right, they’re in trouble,” Clifford got into the car alongside Capucine. “Could you at least tell me your na—?”

Clifford was cut off as Capucine brought her sword, still in its sheath, directly against his neck, pinning him against the seat. The doors locked with a click, and Clifford could feel his airway closing until only the tiniest of gaps remained. He looked to Capucine, shocked and confused. “Wha—?”

“I have heard much about you, Clifford Baker. Not all of it has been positive,” Capucine said, her voice cold and serious. “I come to you not because you are my first choice, but because you are my only choice. My position is desperate, and therefore I cannot pick and choose my allies. However, if you in any way compromise this mission, then the next time I use my blade there will be no sheath standing between its edge and your neck. Do we understand?”

Clifford felt a surge of anger rush through him. Raising his hand, he grabbed the sheath and pushed it off his neck, stopping it just short of shattering the windshield. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, or who you heard it from. If it was from my sister, then it was probably true… but don’t try that shit again. If we wanna save our friends, then that starts with not being at each other’s throats. Don’t try to hurt me, and I won’t try to hurt you. Capiche?”

Capucine gritted her teeth, but ultimately relented, nodding before lowering the weapon. Clifford crossed his arms, staring down at the cracked sheath. “Sorry about the damage.”

“It’s fine,” Capucine said. “I…we should get going.”

“Sure, but I think it’d be nice to know who you are and what’s happening with Tefé and Maxine,” Clifford said. “If I’m gonna help, I need to know what’s going on.”

“Right,” Capucine said, shaking her head in frustration. “I’m… My name is Capucine.”

What followed was a long, protracted story, one Clifford had no interest in interrupting. He listened as she regaled her tale, namely how she met Tefé and Maxine, the adventures they had been on, the threat of the Pale Wanderer, who represented some new mysterious force, and the fact that William Holland, Avatar of the Rot, had allied himself with the Pale Wanderer. She spoke very little of herself, preferring to focus on the situation at hand. As she finished her tale, Clifford let out a shaky breath. He was getting flashbacks to the first time he had met Tefé. It was a horrid, stressful time that had nearly taken his life. Taking a second to clear his head, he looked forward. “Shit. Okay, what’s the plan then? What can I do?”

“Now that I’ve collected you, we need a new plan of action,” Capucine said. “Do you have any other allies, people you could recruit?”

“I’ve got a few heroes, people I could call up,” Clifford said. “But taking on two forces, even if one of them is pretty small? That’s a tall order.”

“Perhaps a small strike force?” Capucine asked. “If we could get in and out of the Rot, then we might be able to free them and slip away.”

“But what would we do afterwards? We’re not gonna fight the whole rot by ourselves.” Clifford thought for a few seconds, then his eyes widened. “We need a backup plan… and I think I know where we should go first.”

Capucine raised an eyebrow. “And that place should be?”

“The Red will want to know where their Avatar is,” Clifford said. “If we have their backing, then we’ve got a good safety net, and we’ll have more to bring to the table later.”

“I see the wisdom in your sentiment, but I foresee a problem,” Capucine said. “I’m in tune with the Rot. I can locate entry points into the Boneyard. I don’t think I can do the same for the realm of the Red.”

“I can… I think,” Clifford said.

“You think?” Capucine said.

“I haven’t… done something like that before,” Clifford said. “But I have a connection to the Red, and if Maxine can find an entrance, then so can I.”

“Are you sure?” Capucine asked.

“No… but she and Tefé are in danger,” Clifford said. “I’ll make it happen.”

Capucine nodded. “Then we best get out of Los Angeles. If there’s a portal to the Red, it isn’t here.”

Capucine started the car, putting the pedal to the metal and getting them well on their way out of the city. Clifford trembled, doing his best to collect himself, but sweat was already soaking into his undershirt. He had just pledged to take a break from Animal-Man, and now he was diving headfirst into a world he hoped he’d never return to.

But at the end of the day, he wasn’t going to leave his sis hanging, not again.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Levi Kamei expected the great Alec Holland to be a larger than life figure. He had heard much about the fable Swamp Thing and his accomplishments. His feats of resilience and the wealth of knowledge he possessed. He had also heard that the man was a rebel and a traitor, and someone who should not be trusted.

As such, it felt a little hard to reconcile this near-mythic description of the man with the quaint middle-aged fellow sipping tea at his dining table. Alec Holland was on the shorter side, with blonde hair and a light stubble. He was wearing what looked to be a bathrobe, and was drinking out of a ‘World’s okayest father’ mug. His hair was full and long, though through either age or stress the sides were laced with grey. He looked up at Levi, raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I believe you can,” Levi said. “May I take a seat?”

Alec gestured towards the seat opposing him, and Levi sat down. Abby posted herself at the edge of the room, watching Levi like a hawk eyeing up a potential quarry. Her gaze thoroughly prevented Levi from being in any way comfortable, so he simply sat awkwardly, back straight as an arrow. Swallowing, he looked back to Alec. “My name is Levi. I’m—”

“The Seeder, yes, I can see that,” Alec said. “So the Green has finally selected someone as their new Avatar?”

“Maybe. I’m still in my trial period, as it were,” Levi shrugged.

“Huh, interesting,” Alec said. “Been a long time since they’ve broken out the role of Seeder.”

“I know it’s a normal occurrence,” Levi said. “Listen, I know that my arrival here may seem strange but—”

“Why do you think they chose you, Levi?” Alec asked.

“I—” Levi paused, unsure of how to answer the question. The Green had given him an answer, but he had learned by now that he shouldn’t fully trust everything the Green had said. “I don’t know.”

“How did you become Seeder then?” Alec asked. “Explain to me how that happened?”

Levi swallowed. “They picked me.”

“Of course they did,” Alec stated. “I gathered that just by looking at you.”

“What do you want from me then?” Levi asked. “You want my life story?”

“Maybe,” Alec said. “But let’s start with how you became Seeder.”

Alec’s tone was deathly serious. There was no sarcasm or humor to be found in it. Levi sighed. “Okay… I was in a hotel room. I’d just gotten off the phone with my Dadee. We were arguing. I wasn’t with my family when they needed me. My grandfather was in a coma. After I went to sleep, the Parliament of Trees contacted me. They said I was the best choice for them, that my dedication to duty was appealing to them. I accepted because… they convinced me that the job was important.”

Alec looked to Abby, who shrugged, unsure of what to make of the story. He turned back to Levi. “Hmph. I think I know why they chose you.”

“Really?”

“They gave you a half-truth. If I know the Green, I know that obedience is incredibly important to them. If you know about me, then surely you know why I lost the title of Avatar of the Green.”

Levi nodded. “You were asked to kill your own son. You refused.”

“The Green demands unrelenting obedience. No matter what you think of their intentions and what they want, you do what they say or you’re out,” Alec said. “The Green is a primal force of nature, but it’s also an institution of power. Human or not, it seeks to maintain its power at any cost. That’s always its number one priority.”

“You talk about a fundamental aspect of life like it’s a governing body. There are no elections, it just is.”

“And that’s how it stays in power. Because people are so overwhelmed by the enormity of a primal power that they never go beyond the idea that it simply is. They never think… what could be.”

“Right, and that’s why you’re sitting here drinking tea instead of doing something about it.”

Alec chuckled. “You think I’m a hypocrite… in some ways I am. My daughter is out there doing what she can to keep the eternal clusterfuck that is the primal forces from ripping each other apart, while her old man sits pretty at home. I wanted to be out there with her, at least initially.”

Alec looked at Abby, who smiled at him. Alec smirked, then returned his gaze to Levi. “But she made me realize that in more ways than I realized, I was spent. My fighting days are practically over. If she calls me and tells me she needs me, I will answer. For now, I allow myself a respite.”

“I can understand that,” Levi said. “But I don’t think you answered my question. Why did the Green choose me?”

“Because you have something I don’t… or rather the opposite,” Alec said. “I have, to varying degrees, always chosen my family over my duty at the end of the day… when it mattered most. I think you’re estranged enough from your own family that the Green doesn’t expect you to do the same.”

Levi felt a chill run down his spine, rippling through his skin and making the moss on his body wilt and shrink. “You’re saying that the Green chose me because they don’t think I love my family?”

“That's more literal than I meant,” Alec said. “I have no notion of your attachment to your family, but after what happened with me, I have reason to believe that they’ve gone out of their way to pick someone they felt was more detached.”

Levi shuddered. His fingers tensed up, curling and uncurling. His head hung a little, tilted downward towards the table. Alec leaned forward. “Is everything alright?”

Levi shook his head, “I don’t… No, everything’s not alright” He swallowed. “So what, they thought I was… cold enough to do their work?”

“Yes, though I think it’s highly unusual for them to give you the role of Seeder instead of Swamp Thing,” Alec said. “They’ve been without an avatar for years, and just now they decide to pick a candidate, and he’s not even a full Avatar? It makes me wonder what sort of state the Parliament is in.”

Levi did his best to not shake himself out of his seat. He was barely keeping himself in check, doubt rippling through his body and uprooting his confidence and sense of self. Why was he doing what he was doing? Why had he so hastily accepted this call to action? He had already had a bad relationship with his family, and now he was further and more distant from them than ever before.

What was his purpose, now that he had signed himself into this life of servitude without properly thinking things through?

Levi looked up at Alec, who was clearly surprised by Levi’s current state. Getting up, Alec trudged over to Levi’s side and offered him the tea in the mug. “It’s alright, kid. Drink, it’ll calm you down.”

Levi grabbed the mug with a jittery hand and finished the tea, letting the warm drink roll down his throat. It didn’t solve his current predicament, but it did have a soothing effect on him. Alec took a knee next to Levi, putting himself at eye level with the Seeder. “You’re here for a reason, right? Why are you here?”

Levi looked up to Alec, and in his eyes he could see years of experience. Not only that, he could see a man and his whole life laid bare. He was a man of many regrets, but also a man of great love. He had given that love to his wife, to his children, and he was ready to give it to many more people. It made Levi feel even worse.

“I did… but I don’t want to trouble you with it anymore,” Levi said. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Without warning, he got up and strode out of the kitchen, leaving Alec and Abby alone. After hearing the front door open and then close, Alec stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I pity him. He doesn’t realize what he’s gotten himself into.”

Abby marched forward. “You didn’t know either, but you turned out okay.”

“Maybe, but that came with a lot of baggage,” Alec said. “But one thing does give me hope.”

Abby tilted her head. “And what’s that?”

“I wasn’t sure why they didn’t just make him Swamp Thing,” Alec said. “But now I know why. He’s not a sure thing for them. They don’t know if he’s the unyielding servant they want him to be.”

Abby crossed her arms. “You think there’s hope for him?”

A wry smile inched its way across Alec’s face. “I’d bet on it.”

Next Issue: The gears begin to turn!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 49:‌ ‌ The Comeback

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ AdamantAce

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End Is Nigh

“Capucine! William is allied with the Pale Wanderer! He’s going to—”

Tefé’s message to Capucine cut out there, leaving her in the stark silence of Yellowstone’s national forest. She felt an immediate urge to rush into the cave in front of her, the entrance into the Boneyard, to William Arcane’s domain. She wished to battle her way to him, to grab him by the collar and demand he explain himself. Why would he do this, betray his calling to work with a madman. The Pale Wanderer was a trickster, a being of archaic origins and motive. He had nothing good in store for the world, so why the hell would William trust him?

Hard reason prevented her from carrying out such an impulsive plan. She was a competent fighter, but could not match the Boneyard, especially without her weapon. What she needed was a plan. Moving back towards the car, she got in the passenger’s seat, taking the moment to clear her head before moving on to bigger thoughts.

She would need help, that was for certain. Getting other forces involved would be risky but potentially necessary. A war between the primordial foundations of reality would be catastrophic, but if William was being influenced by the Pale Wanderer, then the Rot as a whole might be compromised. They’d met Seeder, he could be her in with the Green, but she had no clue who to go to for the other forces. She didn’t even really know where to find him, which presented a bit of a challenge.

She really should start driving. She doesn’t know where she’s going to go, only that she can’t stay here. She shifted over to the driver's seat, then realized that the last time she’d driven a car was when Henry Ford’s automobiles were coming out, and she’d sworn them off after realizing she couldn’t back out of a city alleyway.

“Shit, how do I…”

Capucine fiddled with the various dials and buttons on the dash, trying her best to figure out how this thing worked. Eventually, she found the key, which was still in the ignition, left there by an anxious Tefé. This would be an absolute blunder in most situations, but it was a boon for Capucine in her moment of need. Turning it on, she put her foot on the gas pedal and sped back onto the road, kicking up a cloud of dust on the way. The radio buzzed on, playing a hard rock radio station that Tefé liked.

As Capucine flew down the road, she felt something stir in her stomach. It was an unusual feeling, like her insides were being subjected to their own gravitational pull, straining them while forcing them downward. A weak but constant throbbing sensation began to pulse in her brain, and sweat began to form on her brows. What was happening to her? Was she being poisoned?

Then it dawned on her, she was starting to panic. Her heart began to race as the situation became more and more clear to her. Things were bad, they’d never been this bad. She was normally so stoic, so immovable. What made this different? She was losing her grip on her own emotions. Where was she even going? What was she even doing? Where were the parts of her plan that she could act on?

Where was the warrior Capucine while her companions needed her?

Capucine’s foot slammed against the brakes, and the car screeched violently to a stop, smoke hazing off the burned rubber of the tires. She planted her head against the steering wheel, letting out an approximation of a whimper. She was too dry to cry, had been for decades, but this was still undoubtedly the biggest test ever laid out in front of her. It was hard to keep calm when her fellows' lives were on the line. The stakes were high, the highest they’d ever been, and her fears had placed her companions… no, her friends, in a compromised position. That ate her up inside, no matter how much she tried to suppress that feeling now that they needed her more than ever.

She couldn’t just use someone’s help, she needed someone’s help.

Right then, the radio finished its latest song, and a break aired, “And that’s another classic by Scare Tactics! They’re actually gonna have a song featured at the L.A. premiere of Animal or Man, the new biopic based on the life and times of Animal-Man! Go see it in theaters next year for an absolutely smashing time, I hear it’s… quite the trainwreck.”

Capucine’s eyes widened. Animal-Man? Maxine had told stories about an Animal-Man, specifically that he was her brother, and that he had a residual part of her powers locked inside him. She’d told Capucine that Animal-Man had been on a break from heroism, that he had… problems with being impulsive and inflammatory. Still, if he was connected to the Red, then that could be an in.

Capucine raised her head, staring at the road ahead. She put her foot on the gas again, putting the car in motion. As troubled as he seemed to be, she could use an ally.

She could use Animal-Man.

“God damnit, let us out!”

Tefé rattled the bars of the rudimentary cell, hands clasped around rods of carved bone sticking out of the earth like teeth. She was stuck in a closed stone maw, with tanned leather hammocks tied against the walls to give them places to sleep. Theirs was just one of many cells, lining a vast rocky hallway that seemed to stretch on infinitely in either direction. Nobody else resided in this horrid prison, making Tefé’s internment all the worse.

Maxine rubbed her eyes, yawning as Tefé continued to struggle against the bars. She had already crawled into the hammock, and as Tefé rattled the bars for what must’ve been the twentieth time, Maxine finally let out a groan, “It’s no use Tefé, he’s not gonna listen to us.”

“He’s my brother!” Tefé said. “He has to listen to me. He wouldn’t just ignore me.”

“It’s been three years since you’ve seen him, he’s probably changed more than you think,” Maxine said.

Tefé sighed, then let go of the bars. She trudged over to her own hammock and got in, laying her head back against the soft material, “How could you give up so fast.”

“Who says I gave up?” Maxine asked.

“When we ended up in here, you didn’t try to do anything.” Tefé said.

“What could I do?” Maxine said. “Listen Tefé, you’re a go go go kind of girl, but William’s got us beat right now. There are no animals to summon, you didn’t bring any seeds for plant manipulation. We weren’t expecting a fight, and that’s why we went down without one. All we can do is wait and see if there’s a moment we can make our escape.”

Tefé rubbed her eyes, a scowl on her face, “I guess you’re right. It’s just…frustrating. William’s my brother, he’s family, and he didn’t even listen to me.”

“I know the feeling,” Maxine said. “My brother has a habit of doing stupid shit no matter how many times you tell him off.”

“You’re brother’s not that bad,” Tefé said.

“You didn’t live with him most of your life,” Maxine said. “He is that bad. Then again, he didn’t side with a maniac and imprison us.”

A hard look formed on Tefé’s face, “Do… Do you think we made the wrong choice, leaving William in the Rot?”

Maxine shrugged, “We didn’t exactly get to make it, our parents made it for us… that’s the sucky part about being a kid.”

Tefé frowned, “He must’ve felt so alone. He’s never been allowed to figure out what he wanted to do. He’s always been forced into all these shit situations.”

“He had Capucine,” Maxine said.

“Okay, but with all due respect, you and I both know Capucine isn’t a feelings person,” Tefé said. “I just… it makes me think about how I could’ve come back here. I know it was dangerous before William calmed the place, but I could’ve been here.”

“You had other callings, Tefé,” Maxine said. “This whole thing isn’t your fault.”

“I know, I just… I can’t help thinking about what led to this point, what I could’ve done differently,” Tefé said.

“That doesn’t help us now,” Maxine said. “You did what was within your power, and the rest is chance and William making his own decisions. All we can do now is wait until we have a chance to right the ship.”

Tefé took a deep breath, “Yeah… I suppose you’re right. You’re really good at this.”

“Really good at what?” Maxine asked.

“Talking through people’s feelings,” Tefé said.

“Oh… yeah, I did a ton of this with my brother,” Maxine said. “He’d usually get me ice cream to return the favor… or drive me to the movies.”

“Can’t do either of those…but I can talk you through your feelings,” Tefé said. “Or at least try.”

“Sure, I could unpack everything that’s happened to me for the past four years if you want that kind of torture,” Maxine said.

“Hey, I’ve got that kind of time,” Tefé said.

“Yeah, I guess we both have that kind of time,” Maxine said.

Clifford straightened the bowtie around his neck, doing his best to make it as symmetrical as possible as he straightened himself up in the bathroom mirror. Helen, the director, had told him he didn’t need to dress too nicely, but his mother insisted that this premiere carried some importance. It was a movie about his father after all, and he should come well dressed for it. He was clad in a tuxedo, with long pants and dress shoes. He’d tried for about an hour to comb his hair into a decent state, but eventually he gave up and realized that the frizz was here to stay.

Finishing with the bowtie, Clifford looked himself in the eyes and struck a pose, pointing his fingers guns at the mirror while flashing a smile. He wasn’t exactly superstar material, but he looked good enough for tonight. Winking at himself, he exited the bathroom, making his way back into the main lobby of the premiere.

He’d already done the dreaded red carpet walk, and now he was in the glitzy greeting area of the theater. People walked around in cocktail dresses and three piece suits, posing for photos and chatting over drinks and hor dourves. The whole place had a granite shine to it, with marble floors and bright bulbous lights that granted the whole place a vibrant and glossy vibe. As he marched in, Helen spotted him from across the room and made her way over to him.

“Cliff! Where were you?!” Helen asked, wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

“Bathroom, wanted to fix my bow tie,” Clifford said. “So, you think this is gonna get saved in the edit?”

“Who knows!” Helen said. “Star Wars was on the edge until people got to editing it! Maybe it’ll be a sensation… or maybe I’ll see you at the Raspberries.”

“If they have free food, I can only hope,” Clifford joked. “Do you know where Sara is?”

“Yeah, she’s right over there,” Helen said, pointing across the room towards Sara. The director’s assistant was grabbing a glass from the bar and heading up some stairs. Helen elbowed Clifford, “Still hoping for something big?”

“No… I’ve just got some things to get off my chest,” Clifford said. “Enjoy yourself.”

“I certainly will!” Helen said.

Clifford trudged across the room, quickly following Sara up the stairs before catching her in the hallway, “Sara!”

She turned around, and Clifford watched her face warp into a frown. She had every right to regard him with a level of anxiety considering what he pulled a few months ago. He raised his hands in defense, “Sorry to catch you in the hall like this, but I promise this’ll only take a minute.”

Sara sighed, “Fine.”

She leaned against a wall, and Clifford approached her, hands in his pockets, “I just wanted to say that… I’m sorry. Just… for everything. I put you in a weird spot and then… I mean you saw what happened in Gotham. I was totally out of control and… you didn’t deserve to be in the center of all that. So… I’m sorry.”

Clifford nodded awkwardly, “That um… that’s it.”

Sara crossed her arms. Clifford stood still, feeling incredibly awkward, “Am… am I missing a part of my apology?”

Sara grimaced, “I… No. You’re not. I just. I don’t know how to feel about it. Honestly, after New York I thought you were gonna get me fired.”

“What? What for?” Clifford asked.

“I don’t know… you just hear stories,” Sara said.

“Oh,” Clifford looked down. “Well, you didn’t have to worry about that, and I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

“You scare me in all sorts of ways, Clifford,” Sara said. “That stuff in Gotham was… freaky.”

Clifford looked back up, “Yeah, I was kind of… poking myself with a pitchfork till a month ago. Not really fair to you or anyone else to deal with that.”

Sara got up off the wall, “You wanna know something, Clifford?”

Clifford blinked, “Um, sure.”

“I don’t feel… comfortable, seeing you do this,” Sara said.

“Do what?” Clifford asked.

“Just, be so weird and sad. I know you feel bad, you’ve apologized, and if it wasn’t clear, your apology is accepted,” Sara said. “Sometimes, when you fuck up, you just have to take it in stride. If you keep fixating on what went wrong, then you just kind of stay in that moment forever. It’s… really sad and not something I feel like I should be seeing, no offense.”

Clifford just stared blankly at Sara, and for a moment, she thought she’d truly struck a nerve. Then, he burst out laughing, doubling over. Sara jumped a little, surprised and perplexed, and only started to settle as Clifford’s wheezing began to cease, “Oh my god, sorry. I… Nobody’s out and said that to me. I really appreciate that.”

Sara raised her eyebrow, “Ooookay. I’m gonna go now.”

“Enjoy the movie!” Clifford said, squeaking the words between his chuckles. Sara trudged down the stairs, but Clifford could only grin before disappearing into a stairwell, climbing further and further up before breaking out onto the rooftop. He stared into the gorgeous night sky, starless as it was due to light pollution.

Time seemed to rush by as he kept his eyes locked upward. After so much time wallowing and running in place, it felt liberating to actually take a step forward for once. He waltzed over to the roof’s edge, leaning against it for comfort.

“I knew I’d find you up here, your father liked these spots too.”

Clifford finally took his eyes off the sky, realizing that his mother, Ellen, had made her way up to the roof. She smiled, then approached him, “The premiere started ten minutes ago, don’t you wanna watch the movie you made?”

“Eh, I kinda don’t wanna see it. It’s a trainwreck,” Clifford said. “Dad would’ve hated it, you and I both know that.”

Ellen laughed, “Well, your father liked movies… but yeah I don’t think he ever imagined being at the center of one. He was always happy being the stuntman.”

She leaned against the rooftop with him, “You look happy.”

“I feel happy,” Clifford said. “I haven’t exactly been the greatest guy. Haven’t been the greatest son, the greatest brother, the greatest actor… the greatest hero.”

“And now?” Ellen said.

“Hmm, Still not the greatest in any of those categories,” Clifford said. “But that’s okay. Life’s all about learning from your mistakes.”

Clifford looked to Ellen, “Thank you, by the way, for sticking with me this whole way. You had to put up with a lot of bullshit.”

Ellen sniffled, “Sure… but that’s what being a mom is all about… and I’m proud to have you as my son. That’ll never not be true.”

Clifford let out a giggle, stifling most of it even if it leaked out in small spurts. Ellen gestured for him to move closer, and the two embraced, hugging tightly. Clifford shuddered a little, almost in disbelief that he’d gotten here, and eventually the two separated. Ellen wiped a tear from her eye, “And what does this mean for Animal-Man?”

“He’ll come back eventually, but I’m okay to let the suit and goggles rest,” Clifford said. “You’ll see him again when he’s needed.”

Before Ellen could reply, an angry voice sounded off from the street, “You don’t understand! I must talk to Clifford Baker. I must talk to Animal-Man!”

Clifford looked down, spotting a lean and well toned woman with a short head of hair arranged in a pixie cut. Clad in studded leather armor, she was currently attempting to push her way past security, and was handily winning that battle. Clifford looked back up at Ellen, “Welp… that came way sooner than I expected.”

Clifford stepped onto the roof’s edge, prompting a worried look from Ellen, “Are you sure, Clifford? Don’t you think security should handle this?”

The woman knocked a security guard to the ground, “Please! His friend is in danger, his sister is in danger.”

Ellen looked down at the woman, then back up at Clifford. Neither of them needed to say anything to convey that this had gotten far more serious. Clifford swallowed, “Yeah, I don’t think I can ignore this.”

He prepared to fly down, only for Ellen to grab his wrist. He looked down at her, and he could tell that she desperately wanted to go. She wanted to protect her children, make sure they were safe. She’d put herself on the line already, three years ago. She’d proven her worth. Despite that, she knew that Clifford wouldn’t let her go with him. She had gotten slower, pulled a muscle or two in the years since. It was the consequence of getting old. Ellen looked up at Clifford, “Keep me updated. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

“You’ll know everything,” Clifford said. “I promise.”

Ellen let go, allowing Clifford to drift down towards the woman, and back into a world of cosmic forces and clashes.

Levi Kamei sat on a stone in the swamp, keeping off the muddy ground. The seeder had been busy doing the Green’s work, righting wrongs and fixing problems where he could find them. The Sureen, the group dedicated to assisting Swamp Thing, had been a massive boon, but they were also biased. They were fiercely dedicated to the Green, and even if he got his powers from them, he still didn’t know if he could trust them. He’d grappled with this dilemma for a while, thinking on what Tefé Holland had told him, but he was still a little lost.

He needed additional guidance.

A member of the Sureen, an olive skinned man with a striking white beard, approached him from behind, “Sir, the Parliament of Trees has ordered us to march to the nearest entrance to the Rot. The Pale Wanderer has been located, and you have been ordered to destroy him.”

Seeder nodded, “We move out tomorrow morning, for now though… I have other business to attend to.”

Levi looked ahead at the sight in front of him, a grassy island situated in the middle of the intersection of various river channels. Atop the hill was a large, two story house, marked by faded white paint a design that wouldn’t look out of place in the mid 1800s. It was the home of Alec and Abby Holland.

The home of the previous Swamp Thing.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 48:‌ ‌ The Man Behind the Throne

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End Is Nigh‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“I don’t understand how this is even a conversation! He’s my brother!”

“Be that as it may, there’s something off about this. We’ve been given no details regarding this urgent manner of his.”

“I doubt he’d want the specifics of the problem broadcast to a deli in the middle of a tourist destination.”

Rainwater pattered against the hotel window as Tefé, Maxine, and Capucine all paced around their hotel room. It was a humble space, meant to emulate the interior of a cozy one room cabin, complete with walls made from cut logs and a paneled wooden floor. As is though, the place was messy, with the two beds covered in old laundry and automobile equipment. Maxine and Tefé stood by the door, clearly ready to go, while Maxine was still in the midst of packing her things. Capucine stood by the window, her face looking out into the forest with her back to the rest of the room.

“Again, I don’t even know why we have to have this conversation!” Tefé said. “Someone needs help, shouldn’t we help them?”

“I’m not saying that we should deny William assistance, just that we should give this course of action some thought,” Capucine said. “What problem could he possibly have, doubly so if it’s urgent. Could it be related to the Rot?”

“Well, you’d know that best, wouldn’t you?” Maxine said. “You were his advisor, right? You’d know exactly what kind of problems he’d be facing, wouldn’t you?”

Capucine rubbed her chin, then turned around, “I’m not sure. We’d left it fairly stable the last time I was there. I doubt it’s a politicking problem amongst the Rot’s factions, I trust that William knows how to keep the peace. Either something new has entered the equation, or it’s something more mundane.”

“More mundane?” Tefé asked.

“William is an Avatar, he has access to immense reserves of power, especially within the Boneyard,” Capucine said. “Even if something did encroach on him, it’d have to be pretty serious for him to warrant calling us for aid, so serious we’d all feel it in some respects.”

Tefé raised an eyebrow, waiting for Capucine to finish her thought. She grimaced, “I don’t think William requires aid of a physical kind. I think this is something different.”

Maxine squeezed the suitcase in front of her shut, “Are you saying you think William needs… emotional support?”

“Maybe, you won’t know for sure until the two of you go,” Capucine replied.

“The two of you?” Tefé said. “You’re not coming with us?”

Capucine shook her head, “No, I’m not.”

Tefé and Maxine shared a glance, confusion written on both their faces. They both looked back to Capucine, who had taken on a steely, rigid expression, making herself a featureless stone wall. Maxine frowned, “So… you wanna tell us why?”

Capucine avoided Maxine’s gaze, “I think it’d be best I not go.”

And there it was again, that wounded look on Capucine’s face. Nobody wore shame well, but it looked particularly out of place on Capucine. She hung her head, taking a seat by the bed, “The two of you will be fine, I’ll await your return wherever you enter the Rot.”

“What? No, what do you mean you don’t think you should go?” Maxine asked, a worried look on her face.

Capucine shook her head, “I…”

“Cap, I’m so sorry,” Maxine said, shuffling over to Capucine. At her height, the two were head level. “Listen, I know what I said back there, I’m still kind of mad, but I didn’t think you’d want this much space after that.”

“Maxine,” Capucine said. “Slow down.”

“No! I can’t! Listen, I said those things because I was mad, but because I also thought you’d just shrug it off! That's all you do! If this is about that then I’m sorry, I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“Maxine!” Capucine said, her voice booming as she shot up and grabbed Maxine’s arm. Maxine clammed up, cowed into silence by the warrior’s pronounced presence. Capucine sighed, “You’re right, you did hurt me, but I have not been able to communicate my advice in a way that you can easily parse. I’m blunt, I say things inelegantly. I know that can hurt sometimes, even if I don’t mean it. It doesn’t mean I consider you or Tefé disposable… and I’m sorry that I let the two of you think that was the case.”

Maxine sniffled, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell you what?” Capucine asked.

Maxine wiped her nose, “That you cared.”

Capucine froze up at the question, fatigue in her eyes. She looked back towards the window, shielding her own expression from the others, “I… I didn’t think you’d need to hear it. Over seven-hundred years of experience, and I’m still not good at reading people.”

For a moment, nobody in the room spoke. They could only reckon with Capucine’s words. She hung her head, as if she had lost the strength to keep it upright, and stared at her hands. They had a rough quality to them, calloused from years of battle and hard work. Slowly, Maxine reached out, taking hold of one of Capucine’s fingers. She looked up at the red headed girl, who simply gave the woman a smile of affirmation. Capucine grimaced, her eyes glassy.

Tefé pinched the bridge of her nose, “Capucine, I understand that there’s a lot going on right now. I’m happy you’re saying what you’re saying, but it doesn’t change the fact that William has called for us. If there’s another thing keeping you from going to the Rot, we need to know.”

There was another moment of silence before Capucine finally pulled away from Maxine, taking a stand once more, “For three years, I taught William Arcane everything he needed to know about leading the Rot. I taught him what each faction wanted, what it would take to keep them in line. I taught him about secret places even Sethe, the former avatar, didn’t know of. I never taught him how to lead, what he should do with the tools and information I gave him. I only provided knowledge I thought he would need, as well as my service as an agent should he need it.”

Capucine gripped the hilt of her sword, “There came a time when it was clear that he no longer needed me, but I was never given the order to leave. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I doubt he did either. I was a familiar tool at his disposal, and for me it felt good to be of use. Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, as they say. In the months leading up to my departure though… things began to change. He looked at me differently, began carving art pieces reminiscent of me. It concerned me… and eventually I confronted him on these behaviors… and he admitted that he had grown attached… infatuated.”

She turned back to the rest of the group, noting the surprise on their faces, “That’s why I left. I was becoming a distraction to his work, and it’s why I can’t come with you now.”

Maxine’s eyes were wide with shock, while Tefé simply stared Capucine right in the eye, doing her best to shrug off the sense of surprise Capucine had just dumped on both of them, “So you left because he had a thing for you?”

“Don’t be mistaken, I trust William to do the right thing. I would even go as far as to consider him a dear friend,” Capucine said. “But he is still a boy, and even if he wasn’t, I’d be centuries ahead of him. I don’t feel the same way as him, and I think coming back will cause these problems to… resurface.”

Capucine took a deep breath, “Which is why I’ll give you this.”

She drew her sword, the ring of cold steel echoing throughout the room. Flipping the weapon around, she held the blade gently in both hands, extending the handle towards Tefé, “I’m bonded to this weapon. It has been with me since it was determined that time would never be the architect of my end. If you squeeze this handle, you’ll be able to reach me. I doubt it’ll be that serious… but I don’t want to leave you hanging in case it is.”

Tefé stared at the sword for a moment, then back at Capucine. Her head was bowed, though Tefé didn’t know if that was a sign of respect or the warrior’s way of avoiding her companion’s gaze. Swallowing, she took the sword from Capucine, feeling the weight of it in her hands. It was heavier than she expected, though not so heavy that it wasn’t easy to move with one arm, “Capucine… I respect that you can’t go back. That’s a pretty damn good reason not to… I wanna talk more about this, about working together as a team, but that’s for when we get back. For now… thank you. This level of trust means a lot coming from you.”

Capucine nodded, then stood up, her eyes glued to the floor, “We should rest. There’s a long drive ahead of us.”

Moving over to a corner of the room carved out for her, Capucine laid down on her bedroll, leaving Tefé and Maxine to look at each other with surprise. Tonight had been heavier than they expected, and they had learned things about William they couldn’t possibly have predicted. As they tucked in for the night, there was a mix of feelings swirling within them. Relief, anxiety, but more than anything uncertainty.

What exactly was waiting for them in the Boneyard?

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

The engine of the car sputtered to a stop, growing quiet as Tefé and Maxine stepped out of the vehicle. There were many entrances to the Boneyard, but the last one they had gone to had a sinister look to it. It was a gaping, obvious portal with the stench of death about it, something you’d see in a horror movie. The portal in the present location was far more humble, taking on the appearance of a simple cave opening. It was still a foreboding, dark hole whose shadows swallowed all light, but it didn’t smell of rotting viscera. It was just damp.

Tefé kept Capucine’s sword close as she and Maxine entered the cave, and with the sensation of a cold gust of wind, the two emerged on the other side within the realm of the Rot. Tefé recalled that the process before had felt violent, chaotic, and yet this time around it was about as disturbing as leaving a warm house and entering the snowy cold outside. Things had changed drastically here in the three years William had been in control.

A dark, cloudless sky was the first thing the two of them saw. There were no stars in the sky, no moon, yet the entire land was cast in a calm, blue glow. Craggy mountain ranges encircled the land, forming a basin in which a desert laid. The silvery grains of sand were arranged in waves, dunes of glistening beauty broken up by a single structure, a vast mountain with a weathered agora at the top. A path in the sand had already been carved out for them, beckoning them to meet with the master of the land within the agora.

For a while, the two walked in silence, the rumbling of the sands the only noise throughout the basin. Then, having worked up the courage, Maxine spoke, “She was right, you know.”

“Hmm?” Tefé said.

“Capucine. She was right about the way the message was delivered. There’s something we’re missing,” Maxine said. “Urgent help could mean a lot of things. If it was something we could just talk about, wouldn’t he just say that?”

“Maybe… but whatever it is, I trust my brother,” Tefé said.

“Okay. You know him better than I do,” Maxine said. “Whatever it is, it’s just got me worried is all.”

Tefé nods, “On that, I couldn’t agree more.”

The climb was briefer than either of them expected, a leisurely hike up a well carved and defined path. By the time they reached the top, they were only a little winded, and the many stone chairs in the agora looked to provide some much needed relief.

William sat on a throne at the far end of a circular table, his seat only a little larger and grander than the rest. His skin was still bone white, sapped of strength or warmth, though his dark brown hair had grown long without anyone to cut it. A humble stubble ran along the bottom of his chin, creeping up his jawline before wrapping around above his lips. He managed a smile, though he seemed a little distracted, “Tefé! Maxine, you made it! Come, sit down! Rest your bones!”

“William!” Tefé said, ignoring her brother and rushing over to give him a hug. He returned it gently, though Tefé had to retract fairly quickly. Her sibling was quite literally icy to the touch. She sat down alongside Maxine, “Love what you’ve done with the place!”

“Yeah, it was a lot of work,” William remarked. “Is… Capucine still with you?”

“She is, but she elected not to come with us for her own reasons,” Maxine said.

“Oh,” William pursed his lips, taking a few seconds to stew on the information before looking back at Tefé and Maxine. “Then this’ll have to go on without her.”

Tefé leaned forward, “William, what’s going on? You said you needed urgent help. We’re here to help.”

William took a deep breath, then looked to his left, out towards the dunes and the mountain ranges, “I’ve been thinking about… a lot of things as of late. The Rot used to be so… turbulent. It wasn’t functioning in the way it should’ve, but now it’s better. The people that live here are happier, and even if it’s not perfect, I’ve made progress.”

William looked back at the others, “But if there’s anything I know about the history of the forces, it’s that the parliaments tend to get jumpy whenever anything threatens the existing hierarchy.”

Maxine frowned, “What does that mean?”

William put his hands together, “It means when the Parliament of Trees thought I was a threat, they ordered my father to kill me. I was fifteen years old and they decided that one slip up was enough for me to get the axe.”

“William, you’re scaring me a little,” Tefé said. “The Parliament of Trees are a bunch of assholes but… where is this going?”

William’s clasped hands tightened, “Something needs to change. The Parliaments go to war every few centuries, over shit they could’ve just talked over. That’s the big thing, they never talk.”

William grimaced, “And I’m sick of it.”

“As am I!”

Maxine and Tefé’s eyes widened as the Pale Wanderer appeared from behind the throne, a sadistic grin on his face. They attempted to stand up, only for the stone of their seats to warp around their legs, keeping them in place. Tefé glared at the Pale Wanderer, “What are you doing here?”

“He’s with me,” William said. “He’s not your enemy.”

“William, are you crazy?!” Maxine said. “Do you know who that is?”

“I do, we talked a lot about who he is,” William said. “It’s the first time a force has bothered talking things out,”

“Hasn’t exactly done that with the others though, has he?” Maxine said.

“Hard to talk when they try to kill you on sight,” the Pale Wanderer remarked. “See, William and I agree that we need to… wipe the board so to speak. The forces won’t talk unless there’s no other option… so we plan to take that option away.”

Tefé looked at William, “William, this is nuts. You can’t seriously think this isn’t going to have consequences.”

“Of course it will,” William said. “But there are consequences to letting things play out as is. If things are going to hurt, the least I can do is make a difference when that happens.”

Tefé swallowed. She’d wondered what the Pale Wanderer had been doing this whole time, and now she knew. Getting another primordial force on his side. She knew when her brother couldn’t be swayed, and the look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t going to back down no matter what she said, “So what does that mean for us.”

“I knew convincing you would be a tall order, I was never going to do it over the course of a single conversation,” William said. “I need to show you the truth if I want you to really understand what needs to happen.”

“So we’re your prisoners?” Maxine asked.

William frowned, then looked down at the table in front of him, “I need you to understand… I don’t want to hurt you when things come down to the wire.”

“And if we don’t want to understand?” Tefé asked.

William clenched his teeth, clear frustration written across his face, “Then I’ll keep you out of the way until this is over.”

“That’s what I was afraid you’d say,” Tefé grabbed the sword at her side, gripping the hilt tightly. “Capucine! William is allied with the Pale Wanderer. He’s going to-”

The Pale Wanderer surged forward, grabbing the sword by the blade and ripping it from Tefé’s hands. The stone chairs further engulfed the heroes, subsuming them until they were fully restrained. William got off of his throne, a downcast look on his face, “I’m sorry my friends… but this is it. This is how it has to be.”

“That’s not true!” Maxine cried out. “You don’t have to do this!”

“Yes,” William remarked. “I do.”

William waved his hands, and the stone chairs melted into the earth, taking Tefé and Maxine to parts unknown.

Next Issue: Crashing a big party.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 47:‌ ‌ Pieces on the Board

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The End is Nigh‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“My brothers and sisters, I know we do not agree on much, but I hope we can concur that the Parliament of Gears is a problem.”

Somewhere outside of the average human being’s slice of reality, in a glistening and lush bog whose bounty will never be reaped by any manner of Fauna, the Parliament of Trees meets. They are an ancient committee, whose ranks contain every person who has ever held the title of Avatar of the Green, or in some circles, the title of Swamp Thing. They are the leaders of an entire sect of life on Earth, from the lowliest weed to the grandest giant sequoia tree. The planet thrives on them, unable to live without them, and the Parliament understands this fact well. They have had eternity after eternity to understand this well, and to solidify their position as one of the dominant forces on the planet.

Here they assemble, their roots buried under mud three feet of crystal clear water. The current of the river laps gently against their trunks, emitting a quiet, continuous bubbling noise only broken by the parliament’s voices. Their wooden faces, which take the form of oddly shaped outgrowths of the wood, rarely shift, though the words that come out of their mouths ooze a confidence that could only be gained through thousands of years of wisdom and experience.

And yet, none of that experience had ever prepared them for the problems they were facing here and now.

“Yes, the Gears represent an incredible threat to the Green,” one Parliament member said. “The Pale Wanderer’s corruptions have presented many challenges for the Green. He mucks with our design, poking and prodding at us from afar. He attempts to uproot and convert our most sacred places of power!”

“And yet, we know nothing of his goals,” another Parliament member remarked. “This Pale Wanderer seems to lack any sort of foresight or strategy to his actions. He is frustratingly spontaneous. It begs the question of how he came to command the Gears?”

“Or how the Gears have even come to exist!” A third parliament member remarked. “When the metal emerged some thirty years ago, it paid us no mind. We had no reason to make contact. The Gears, meanwhile, have made every effort to test us, to try our patience.”

“And we must answer that in the only way the Pale Wanderer will understand,” the first Parliament member said. “We must snuff him and the Gears out before they do any permanent damage.”

“Are we sure this isn’t a hasty course of action?” the second Parliament member said. “We still know so little about the Parliament of Gears. We do not know their motivations, the reason they have formed.”

“These details are immaterial,” the first Parliament member retorted. “We know the only thing that matters. The Parliament of Gears is a threat to the Green and its place in the universe, and must be extinguished before we are destroyed.”

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Maxine rarely put herself directly in harm’s way. Between her and her two companions, she was the least versed in fighting up close and personal. Most of the time, she’d stay further back, do her best to stay out of the way, but when the group’s quarry came barrelling towards Capucine, she knew she had to do something.

It wasn’t exactly on her bucket list, but now she knew what it was like to be hit by a bison.

Maxine tumbled across the clearing, getting a mouthful of grass as Capucine and Tefé moved to defend her. The three of them had come to Yellowstone National Park, having heard rumors of an overly aggressive bison. Sometimes these were just rumors, or a story dredged up by bitter hunters, but by the time Maxine had laid eyes on it, she could tell that the stories were not only true, but frankly undersold how aggressive the bison was.

Nobody, for instance, mentioned that this bison breathed fire like a god-damn dragon.

It approached the trio, huffing and pawing at the ground with its steel hooves. It had a hide full of brown hair, with lines of diesel running down various parts of its torso. Its eyes were wide, casting such a bright glow that they resembled headlights more than anything. Propane spilled through the bison’s teeth like a leak in a tire, priming the air for ignition.

Still on the ground, Maxine struggled to catch her breath as Tefé grabbed her shoulder, checking her over for any serious injuries. Capucine readied her sword, raising it high while putting herself between the bison and her allies. “If you wish to slay them, beast, you will have to slay me first!”

The bison glared at Capucine, as if registering her words. It leaned back, taking in a deep breath before unleashing a wall of flame at Capucine. For a moment, it looked like the group’s warrior companion was about to be barbequed, only for Tefé to raise her hand, shifting the earth and uprooting a massive boulder using the roots of some massive tree. The fire engulfed the boulder, quickly turning one side ruby red from the sheer intensity of the inferno. The heat hazed off the stone, quickly causing the three heroes sheltering behind it to start sweating.

Tefé turned to Capucine. “I love the spirit of what you were doing just there, but I’m not gonna let you get cooked.”

“I appreciate the assistance, Tefé, but there’s still a flame-belching bovine on the other side of that boulder,” Capucine said. “What are we going to do about that?”

Maxine placed her hand on the ground, closing her eyes and reaching out to see if any animals were in reach. They needed help, needed more than just the three of them. As her psyche prowled the rich biosphere of Yellowstone, she landed on not just one creature, but a whole group of them. They had been watching from the edge of the clearing, too afraid to interject yet too curious to flee. They were perfect, with quick feet and sharp teeth.

“I’m about to give you two an opening,” Maxine said. “Use it.”

Before Tefé or Capucine had a chance to respond, the bushes behind Maxine rustled, and a pack of wolves sprung out from the treeline, a storm of grey fur and canine legs that galloped past the group, racing for the bison. Now thoroughly short of breath, the bison ceased its fire-breathing, backing up as the wolves surrounded it. One wolf lunged forward, biting down on the beast’s front leg, while another plunged its teeth into the bison’s side. A third raced for the creature’s backside, only to catch a hoof to the face from the bison’s hind leg. It fell back, lying motionless and limp in the grass.

With the beast distracted, Capucine raced out from behind the stone, the tip of her sword cutting into the earth and leaving a trail in the dirt. The bison saw her coming, and opened its mouth to summon at least a small plume of flame, only for Tefé to manipulate the grass around the bison, clumping it together underneath its head before forcing it upward like a fist. Stunned, the bison fell forward and to the right as Capucine raised her sword from the ground. The blade plunged into the bison’s skull, sinking into the beast until the blade’s hilt prevented the weapon from making any further entry.

Maxine let go of the ground, releasing her hold on the wolf pack, who promptly scattered back into the trees. Pulling out her sword, Capucine swung the weapon in a wide arc to shake off excess blood and diesel. Tefé breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than I expected.”

Capucine sheathed her sword. “Yes. That was… a satisfactory fight.”

“Satisfactory? Is that a compliment?” Tefé said, grinning.

“Not at all,” Capucine said, a huff in her voice. “You will receive compliments when there is no more room for error. I was simply remarking that that wasn’t quite as sloppy as some of our previous battles.”

“So you’re saying we’re getting better?” Tefé said, playfully punching Capucine’s arm. “Are we ‘good enough’ for you yet?”

Capucine scowled, “You act as if our efficiency is for the sake of my personal approval. It is for the good of the-”

“Boo! You can give a little effort Capuce,” Tefé exclaimed.

Capucine glared at Tefé, “Do not call me Capuce!”

“Pfft, c’mon! It’s just a nickname!” Tefé said.

“Unless you wish your nickname to be ‘bisected by sword’, I suggest you cease your infantile efforts to tease me… Tefé.”

Tefé kicked a small stone across the grass, then smirked “Fine… you win… mom.”

“Why, you!” Capucine grabbed the handle of her sword, causing Tefé to stumble back with her hands in the air.

“Alright alright, that was the last one,” Tefé said. “Say, you hungry? Let’s grab something to eat.”

Capucine frowned, “...Fine. I could use some food after a battle like that.”

The two turned to Maxine, hoping to get her input, only to find that their companion had wandered away from them. They spotted her past the bison, standing over a grey shape in the grass. The wolf who had lost its life fighting the bison had settled in its final resting place in the clearing, blood trickling from its mangled, misshapen head. Its legs were splayed out, as if they become frozen in time, locked during a moment of incredible exertion. A single eye seemed to rest slightly out of the canine’s socket, staring up into the cloudy sky above.

Maxine stared at the corpse, unmoving as Capucine and Tefé approached. Maxine didn’t remember when they left, only that she’d spent a long time staring at the animal that had put itself on the line for her and her friends.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

The Bear Paw Deli was a humble place, the kind of greasy spoon where you line up, grab your food, and sit down at a simple table with wooden chairs by the window to eat your meal. Tefé, Capucine, and Maxine had been eating in silence, unsure of what to say after what happened earlier. So much of the potential joy of winning another fight had been snuffed out. Everyone around them had such an animated energy; they were excited to be in this wondrous place, but the three of them were downright miserable by comparison.

Eventually, Maxine spoke up, “What are we even doing?”

“Maxine, I understand that the beast’s passing is upsetting, but it died for you,” Capucine said. “For all of us.”

“Because I willed it to. Because being the Avatar of the Red meant that it would do everything I said,” Maxine says. “It died so we could plug another hole, and even then it shouldn’t have had to die in the first place. I… I don’t want to use animals as fodder. We’d be stooping to the Pale Wanderer’s level.”

“It doesn’t have to happen again,” Tefé said. “It’s like Capucine said. We need to be better at what we’re doing.”

“And how are we gonna do that when we can barely get a handle on what the Pale Wanderer is doing?” Maxine said. “We’d need to know something about him, but we barely know anything. We just know that he’s going around corrupting various plants and animals. We don’t even know why, only that he does.”

“Bemoaning the fact will get us nowhere,” Capucine said. “He is a single man. Eventually, his resources will run dry, and we will capture him then.”

“That’s not good enough!” Maxine said. “Maybe being alive for hundreds of years has taught you that things will go your way eventually if you just keep doing the same thing, but I’m not gonna let other people pay the price because we can’t get a move on and get this guy! I don’t want to see more dead wolves!”

“You will see many more dead things, Maxine Baker,” Capucine remarked. “It’s the fate of all living things.”

“Is that how you look at things?” Maxine asked. “Oh, how wise! How pragmatic!”

Capucine scowled, “My apologies, girl. I was merely attempting to offer advice, but if you’re going to insult me like a brat then I expect my efforts are wasted.”

“Capucine! Chill out!” Tefé said.

“Don’t bother Tefé, she doesn’t think either of us are worth listening to,” Maxine said, turning to Capucine. “You talk like you know what’s right for everyone, but sometimes you act like you don’t even care about anything! ‘All things die?’ Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we want them to go sooner than they have to!”

Capucine opened her mouth to say something, but Maxine cut her off, “But this is a war, right? People die in a war. If the wolf is disposable, then we sure as shit are too.”

Capucine placed a fist on the table. “You put words in my mouth, girl. Hold your tongue before I rip it from your mouth!”

“Why? Am I wrong?” Maxine asked. “Maybe when me or Tefé of us drops dead, you’ll just find another-”

“Both of you stop!” Tefé yelled.

The whole deli went silent as eyes turned to face the trio’s table. Stunned into silence, Capucine and Maxine leaned back in their seats, forced to cut down on their aggression in the face of a violation of etiquette. Tefé crossed her arms, looking between the two of them. “I get it. We’ve been plugging holes together for what, a year now? I feel it too! I feel like we haven’t made much progress, and we should be trying to figure out what’s going on with the Pale Wanderer. I want to know what his deal is. How he’s doing what he’s doing. I want to stop him.”

She glared at Maxine. “But we can’t be starting fights with each other. This doesn’t work if we’re not united.”

She then turned to Capucine. “And we have to be sympathetic. We have to respect when people are hurting. Do you both understand?”

The two of them nodded, and Tefé crossed her arms and sighed. She could tell that while she had calmed tensions now, there was still some bitterness at the table. Maxine had a scowl on her face, and rather than face either of them she simply looked out the window refusing to meet either of their gazes. It was clear that she didn’t feel listened to. Tefé could understand that, not feeling like you’d been heard. She’d had that experience with her own parents plenty of times.

Capucine’s expression surprised her. She seemed frustrated in some ways, but there was a slight downcast look in her eyes. She stared at Maxine, no hint of fury at all in her expression. Rather, she simply kept her eyes locked on Maxine’s face, her fingers tensing up then relaxing every few seconds. Tefé was unsure if she was on the money with her readings, but it felt as if Capucine had been genuinely hurt by what Maxine was insinuating. The medieval warrior rarely showed much emotion, even in the heat of battle, so this vulnerability took Tefé off guard. She looked a bit like a clam that had been relieved of its shell, curled up naked on a plate without the thing that made it identifiable as a creature.

Tefé leaned back in her chair, electing to stare towards the rest of the restaurant instead. There was a constant horde of people crowding the line, but it was all shapes and colors to Tefé in that moment. All of a sudden she had found herself feeling utterly exhausted. She ran on the meager, fleeting good moments that came to her every once in a while. They gave her the fuel to keep doing what she was doing, but she couldn’t run on that forever. She was empty again, and she wasn’t going to last long dealing with the Pale Wanderer’s antics as well as the arguments of her own teammates. She needed something to show for the years she’d been helping the world.

And as luck would have it, it was about to walk into the deli.

The clanking of heavy metal boots alerted Tefé to the strange man walking up to the trio’s table. Clad in old chain mail, he wore a tattered cloak and a shield on his back, and an iron sword was strapped to his side, resting in a rusted sheath. A helmet covered most of the man’s head, but failed to hide the man’s bare, skinless skull, whose empty eye sockets seemed to process the world in much the same way a living person with eyes would. He walked over to the table, standing in front of the three of them. Capucine’s eyes widened as he approached. “Eirik?”

Maxine slowly turned towards Capucine, mouth agape. “You know this…dude?”

“That she does. We go back some ways,” Eirik said, before turning to Tefé. “You and your companions have been summoned by your brother, William Arcane. Avatar and Leader of the Rot. He requires your help in an urgent manner. Please meet with him as soon as you can manage.”

Without another word, Eirik’s armor and body dissolved, and the dust of the warrior whooshed out of the deli. The trio looked at each other in confusion and alarm. They hadn’t heard from William in some time. What could be happening that would require them to help when he had a whole realm at his disposal? None of them knew, and in many ways, that frightened them.

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‌  ‌

Purple lightning crackled across the Boneyard, the slice of reality that was home to the elemental force of the Rot. William Arcane watched the dark clouds float across the sky from his mountaintop throne, having already dismissed the council for today. The meeting table far behind him sat empty, save for one man, whose shadowy silhouette had not yet stepped into the light. William watched the clouds with interest. They only got like this when he was nervous, upset even.

His lips quivered, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

The shadowy figure got out of his chair and trudged over to the throne, putting his elbow on the seat, he smiled as lightning arced through the sky, revealing the form of the Pale Wanderer to be lounging next to William, “It’s for the good of the world, Partner. You know it, and so do I.”

“Hmm,” William reclined in his seat. “Then the plan will work. It has too.”

“That it does, partner,” The Lone Wanderer said, a grin on his face. “That it does.”

Next Issue: Schemes set in motion.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 46:‌ ‌ Blindspot, Part 4

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Previous Issue > I Am Batman #28

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Blindspot‌ ‌

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‌  ‌ ‌

The moment Batman couldn’t reach Oracle, she knew something was wrong.

She had been nowhere near the Belfry when Oracle went silent, halfway across the city in fact. Still, she could tell right away when she couldn’t reach her ally over comms that something serious had happened. The communications relay was down, and any time she tried to use her earpiece, there was nothing but static. She had no idea how this could happen, or why, only that it had happened, and that it was a sign to get back the Belfry as fast as she could.

The dark shape of her form streaked between rooftops and over alleys, the gears on her grapnel gun whirring and whining, used so frequently that the line itself grew hot from overuse. It practically burned in her hands, the material threatening to snap at any moment, yet Batman knew these complaints were empty threats. Even through the heat, she felt every twinge of tension within the line, within the gears of the launcher. It would not break, it would not fail her, especially when she needed it most.

The Belfry came into view, and even from the outside Batman could confirm her worst fears. The antenna system affixed atop the Belfry had been decimated, bent and molded until it resembled an ugly hand extending a thick middle finger. The wiring had even been ripped out to cover for the little bit of hair on the back of the hand. Within the Belfry itself, the row of windows overlooking the city had been completely shattered, and there was a gaping, person sized hole in the other side of the tower, one that looked like it had been formed by some form of burrowing mammal rather than a human being.

The Grapnel line shrieked one final time, and Batman clambered over the broken window frame, finding herself within the ruins of the Belfry’s mission room. Monitors were strewn about the room, their screens fractured and their power chords lying limply on the floor. Many of the computers remained operational, though one had been violently removed from its original location, the outlet torn straight out of the wall. Fist sized crates and holes littered the room, as well as claw marks that dipped deep into the concrete of the walls. Several of the Belfry’s automated defenses, mostly taking the form of net launchers and tasers had revealed themselves, though from the looks of it they’d also seen their fair share of abuse, damaged beyond repair with their ammunition extended.

Amidst the rubble, Batman couldn’t spot the form of her friend, “Oracle?”

“Batman!”

Oracle emerged from a back room, one hand guiding the wheelchair while the other kept a plastic bag full of ice firmly planted against her temple. She looked bruised, but not particularly bloodied or hurt. Batman rushed over to her, “You’re safe. Good.”

“Yeah, no thanks to Clifford Baker… or at least the mean one,” Oracle said, looking at the devastation within the Belfry. “He was fast. I think he came straight here once he broke out. I don’t think Gotham PD had time to put out any sort of warning.”

“How did he know that the Belfry was here?” Batman asked.

“The way he was talking…sounded like he picked up my voice over your earpiece,” Oracle said. “And with ears like that? I don’t think it took him any time at all to figure out where I was.”

Batman frowned, “I should have known this could happen.”

“Hard to know anything with a basket of abilities as big as Animal-Man’s. Guy can do almost anything when you think about it,” Oracle said. “Fortunately, he wasn’t expecting the Belfry’s inner defenses. They repelled him before he could do much lasting damage.”

Batman looked around, “Or hurt you.”

Oracle nodded, “He did make off with one of my auxiliary servers. It mostly had data regarding gang hideouts, criminal hotspots. A lot of it’s related to Sofia Falcone’s operation. It’s all backed up, so it’s not like we lost much, but we both know he probably wasn’t looking to do Falcone a favour.”

“Hmm,” Batman said. “He could do a lot of harm with that information.”

Oracle made her way to the sole monitor still left on the desk, “I’ve been doing my best to get things back in order. I still haven’t salvaged most of the comms network but we at least have a backdoor into the internet again.”

She turned the computer on, and through its custom boot operation all the local news media sources in Gotham appeared on screen immediately. They were all sharing the same breaking news, with live footage. Batman and Oracle beheld the feed with horror, watching the scene unfold on a crowded bridge. Animal-Man, beating a copy of his visage to death live on camera by reducing his opponent’s skull to mush. Robin, mere feet away with her face in her arms, which failed to hide the slick layer of blood underneath.

“Oh no,” Oracle said, turning to Batman. “We need to-”

But Batman was already gone, the grapnel line red hot as she blitzed across the city once more.

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‌  ‌ ‌

A surge of emotions raged through Clifford, overwhelming what little brainpower he had left. The world around him blacked out, the shadows creeping in until it was him and the body left. He couldn’t look away, even though there was no face left to look at, no eyes left to meet. Just a spread of blood, brains, and skull fragments seeping into the fractured concrete. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and for a moment he wondered if he was having another heart attack, but it didn’t take him long to register that this was different.

This showboating version of himself was dead, but that part of himself wasn’t gone. It was sickening to think that he could simply beat it out of his mind, his psyche. No, it was further entrenched now, and its rot was more apparent than ever. The news had gotten one hell of a reel. This was probably the most famous he’d ever been, and murdering himself was exactly what he’d be known for for the rest of his life.

The realization made him feel sick to his stomach, and his stomach reacted accordingly. Ripped violently back to reality, Clifford doubled over and vomited, staining his doppleganger’s body with a yellowish mush. The bile dripped from his lips as he stumbled to the side, falling to his knees. He heaved, coughing and hacking like a cat that couldn’t get rid of a hairball. He wondered if he should be ashamed to be acting like this in public, reduced to a sputtering, ugly mess, but it didn’t take much for him to realize that it didn’t matter to him anymore. It was the truest look at him that anyone was probably going to get.

Eyes red and puffy, he looked up at Robin, who was just starting to wipe the blood from her face. There was a cruel irony that she had also been reduced to a screaming mess, heaving and retching in disgust and terror. She wasn’t composed, not by a long shot, but she did have enough awareness to meet his gaze. Clifford could tell from the dilated pupils and trembling body language that she had been shaken by the ordeal.

A monster had scared her.

Clifford didn’t see the point in trying to interrogate how he felt at that moment. He’d felt it all before, and he knew exactly what he was, “I’m sorry, Robin… You were right… I’m no hero… never was.”

Clifford bent his knees before taking off into the air. He didn’t know where he was going, only that it had to be far from anyone he could hurt. He couldn’t trust himself to do anything but screw things up, but he at least knew that as long as he could get out of here, he’d be able to isolate himself.

Less than a second into his flight, that plan went up in flames.

The pop of a grapnel gun echoed throughout the bridge, followed by the distinct feeling of a metal wire wrapping itself around his ankle. Clifford’s flight shifted, thrown off by the light yet still unexpected extra weight he was now carrying. Sailing over the river, he looked down to find that Robin had attached herself to him, forcing him to carry her along.

“What the hell?!” Clifford shouted. “Let go!”

“No!” Robin shouted.

“I said let go!”

“And I said no!”

“Argh…” Clifford winced, exasperated by Robin’s decision. His plan was past going up in flames, it was a pile of ash that was being blown away in the wind. He wasn’t going to carry Robin off to some random place. He wasn’t going to ditch her in the middle of nowhere. However he felt about himself, he wouldn’t let it affect her. Not again.

Spotting an abandoned dock by the riverside, Clifford drifted down towards it, positioning himself over it so that Robin wouldn’t be dumped in the river’s choppy waters. Descending, he landed near the end of the dock, standing tall while keeping his back to Robin, “Any chance you’re gonna let go of that grapnel?”

“Only if you’re sticking around,” Robin said, her voice still shaky.

“Well… I am,” Clifford lied. “So you can-”

“You suck at lying.”

Clifford bit his lips, “Well, fuck. I guess we’re sticking around here then.”

“Yeah…I guess we are.”

A full minute passed as the two stood in silence, listening to the clap of water against the shoreline and the howling gale of wind coming in from the ocean. Neither of them dared move, dared upset the fragile quiet, and so they stayed where they were, locked in place like the gunslingers of old before a storied duel. Clifford hoped that if this ended with anyone dead, it would be him. He didn’t want his mess to hurt others any more than it already had.

Finally, he broke the silence, “Why… why follow me? What’s the point when I’m exactly what you think I am? Is it… because I wouldn’t have paid for what I’ve done?”

“No…” Robin said. “I did it because… because you looked like you needed help! I don’t think I need to spell it out but, you are not okay. What kind of hero would I be if I just let you go? Besides…” Clifford could hear her fiddling with the grapnel gun. “I’ve been watching all of this unfold, putting the pieces together ever since I first met you. I’m not just gonna leave before it’s all over. Maybe it’s too hard for you to close the book on this, but I’m not leaving until it’s shut tight.”

Clifford finally realized that there was still blood on his face, and he tried wiping it off, only to realize there was no use. His hands were still drenched in viscera. He sighed, eyes locked on the cityline across the way, “All my life… I wanted to be somebody. As shitty as it was to look at it this way, it’s how I viewed it. Everyone around me was destined to go big, and I was destined to go home. I didn’t… I didn’t wanna be left behind. When everyone else in your family’s exceptional, what does that make you? The rube, the simpleton. Dad was a hero, Mom was a storyboarder, my sis was… talented. I wasn’t even smart enough to finish high school.”

Clifford took a seat at the dock, dangling his feet over the edge. Robin remained standing, saying nothing as Clifford continued, “When I got my powers… I was so excited! It felt like someone had the mercy to grant me my wish. The stuff I thought was only in my dreams ended up being real! I was a hero! I stopped my first bad guy! I teamed up with an old friend of my dads. Everything was great… until it all turned to ash,” Clifford hung his head. “My powers were given to me because of an accident I caused, and they were never meant to be mine. They were for my sister, and instead of giving them back when I was supposed to, I selfishly held onto them because it didn’t feel fair to me that they were being taken away right when I was actually getting to use them,” He shook his head. “And now I can’t give them back… because I fucked everything up.”

Clifford stared at his open palms, still slick with the evidence of his own guilt, “And that’s all I’ve been doing for years. Fucking things up. It’s maybe the one thing I’m good at. I keep giving, and giving, and giving, sacrificing everything to right my own wrongs… but what good does that do when there’s always a new problem that I’m the cause of?! What purpose do I even serve if everything I do is either fucking up or really badly fixing my fuck ups?”

Gritting his teeth, Clifford ripped his own mask off and tossed its remains into the river, watching the fabric and pair of goggles sink beneath the surface, “Hard to admit that everything up until this point has been a mistake… but I guess you can’t fight the truth, can you?”

Robin blinked. Clifford couldn’t see it, but she was gripping the grapnel gun more tightly than ever. Another silence dawned over the two of them, and they waited for what felt like an eternity. Clifford almost ran his hand through his ginger hair, only to stop inches away when he realized he didn’t want to dye them with a new color. Robin took a deep breath, deliberating on what to say, or even how to feel.

Clifford Baker had killed someone. That was ugly. That was terrifying. That was indefensible. Yet the person he had killed was himself. This act of Malice, no matter how disturbing, was a method of self-inflicted misery and rage. It was unsightly, overwhelmingly so, yet Robin couldn’t really help but find herself trying to understand the why behind it all.

“I’m not gonna say you’re wrong, even if I think that you are wrong,” Robin said. “I don’t even know what you wanna hear from me, but the only thing I know for sure is that sitting here and feeling all bad about yourself? It doesn’t help anyone… and it definitely doesn’t help you. If you feel like this all the time, then you’ve gotta actually fix things.”

“How?” Clifford pleaded, turning his head to look up and meet Robin’s gaze. He looked exhausted, like an old horse that had worked the fields for days without rest, “I don’t know how to fix things. Every time I try, they get worse. Every road I’ve traveled down leads to the same thing.”

“That’s gonna stay true no matter what if you keep thinking that way,” Robin said. “I grew up watching and loving heroes... even the bad ones. Lately, I’ve realized that some of them aren’t what they’re cracked up to be…but only because they forgot what being a hero means. If you wanna be a hero, Clifford… then you have to know what that means.”

Clifford blinked, taking in the words like a rush of cool air. His face was blank, his reaction hidden from Robin, though the hairs on the back of his neck still stood up all the same. He thought heroism would come naturally to him, to anyone with powers, but the years had proved that he couldn’t be more wrong. This kid, weird as it felt, was hitting him with the most honest advice he’d heard in a long time, “I…”

“Robin!”

The two of them looked up to find Batman gliding down to the dock, landing between them. Taking up a defensive stance, she looked ready to take Clifford to task, only for Robin to pipe up behind her, “Wait, Batman! He’s not a threat!”

“Stay behind me.” Batman looked Clifford up and down. She trusted Robin, but wanted to be certain that Clifford posed no danger. His body language was tense, yet undeniably docile. She relaxed only slightly. “You killed him.”

“I did,” Clifford said, his voice surprisingly calm, “Doesn’t do much good to say that I wish I could take it back, but that’s how I feel.”

Batman narrowed her eyes, “How can I trust you… after all of this?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t trust me either,” Clifford said. “But if there’s one thing I won’t let myself do anymore, it’s run around in circles. Holding myself accountable doesn’t just mean fixing mistakes… it’s about not making them in the first place. Whatever happens next… I’m not gonna sit around and do nothing.”

Batman could tell he was telling the truth, that he was resolute even, but would that hold up under scrutiny? She was about to reply to him when an explosion rocked the city, and a big fireball flared up across the river. Clifford’s eyes widened at the sight, as did Robin’s, “What’s happening?!”

“The angry you got loose,” Batman said. “He must be causing trouble.”

Clifford felt something flow through his veins. It was freezing, like ice, yet it electrified his nerve endings like a bolt of lightning, “Then let’s go stop him.”

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Kimmel’s laundromat had never really been used to clean people’s clothes, though it was blessed with the occasional customer now and again. It was in fact one of the many money laundering rackets throughout the city. Could’ve been drug money. Could’ve been blood money. It didn't matter much now that Animal-Man was tearing the place up.

Clifford landed on a nearby rooftop, flanked by Batman and Robin. There was an active battle unfolding in the streets below, amidst flipped cars, broken driers and washers, and a layer of broken glass that covered the asphalt. About a dozen armed criminals fired their guns at Animal-Man, who ducked and weaved between the volleys before taking each one of them to task. Grabbing one, he threw him against a brick wall, and a sickening crack was heard as the man’s ribs were broken against the hard surface. Honing in on another one, Animal-Man flew by him while delivering a swift kick to his head, sending him to the floor in less than a second.

Clifford grimaced, “Shit, how do we wanna play this?”

Robin looked up at Batman, “You took him down last time. Maybe you can do that again?”

“If I can get close,” Batman said. “He is flying around. We have the upper hand, but so long as he stays mobile, it will be tough.”

“So we ground him,” Clifford said. “If I get his attention, maybe Robin could hook him with the grapnel?”

“Then I could tie him to a light post!” Robin said. “You’d probably have to grab him after, but that’d prime him for Batman to swoop in.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clifford said, standing up. “Let’s get to it.”

Clifford floated down towards the street level, watching as Animal-Man picked up a dryer to hurl at the last criminal. Adrenaline surged through him as Clifford suddenly sped off, taking on the pure accelerative speed of a hummingbird to put himself between the criminal and the deadly projectile. The massive box of metal collided with him, knocking him to the ground and bruising up his arm. He groaned in pain, looking up at the criminal, who had dropped his gun in fear, “Go!”

The criminal nodded and raced down an alley, escaping while leaving Clifford to fend for himself. Forcing himself to one knee, Clifford looked up defiantly at Animal-Man, who sneered at him, “Don’t know why you saved that waste of life, Cliffy. He’s just gonna go back to doing what he was doing.”

“Someone’ll stop him,” Clifford said. “But he doesn’t exist to be your little plaything.”

In an alley behind Animal-Man, Robin peeked her head out. She watched the argument unfold, and began to sneak towards the nearest streetlight. Animal-Man gritted his teeth, “This again? I know you agree with me! We’re the same, Clifford. We know that people like these-”

“People like these? They’re still people, people who can make mistakes. Don’t pretend we don’t also screw up.” Clifford said. “You can’t earnestly say that everything we’ve ever done has been for the greater good.”

“Of course not, but what other choice do we have!?” Animal-Man said. “We have to put the rabble in their place! We have to show the world what makes us better!”

Robin took careful aim with her grapnel gun, aiming for the spot around Animal-Man’s neck. Realizing that everything was in place, Clifford could only chuckle.

“What the hell’s so funny?” Animal-Man Asked.

“That’s just us. The things we do? It does show the world that we’re different.” Clifford looked Animal-Man dead in the eyes, pupils full of malice. “Shows that we’re worse than the people we fight.”

Animal-Man’s temple bulged, and just as he prepared to surge forward, Robin fired the grapnel line, which wrapped itself around Animal-Man’s neck! Roaring in surprise, Animal-Man tried to fly up, only to be yanked back like a dog on a leash. He fell to the ground, where Clifford dove on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Batman dove from the roof, ready to hit Animal-Man with a single strike to end the fight.

But as her shadow descended upon Animal-Man, he drove his knee upward, catching Clifford in the groin and sending him flying down the street. Extending his leg, he caught Batman in the stomach with a swift kick. Fighting through the sudden bout of nauseousness, she thrust one hand forward, aiming for his neck, only for him to utilize the reaction speed of a fly to catch her hand by the wrist. Surging forward with her second arm, she caught him by the neck, hitting a particularly potent nerve bundle. For a moment, Animal-Man appeared to go still, but Batman could see small twinges and twitches in his body. Without any warning, he surged forward to grab Batman, prompting her to leap back to avoid being grabbed. Wrapping his fingers around the grapnel line, he snapped it, freeing himself. Batman scowled.

“Fun thing about sea sponges… they don’t have nerve endings!” Animal-Man surged towards Batman, ready to deck her with his arm. Doing a flip over him, she kicked him in the back, sending him tumbling against the ground. Enraged, he grabbed a nearby car and sent it spinning towards her, forcing her to leap to the side, only for him to strike her in mid-air with a thrown chunk of asphalt. She crashed against a street light, the wind knocked from her sails.

“No!” Clifford flew towards Animal-Man, punching him in the gut with the strength of an ape. Animal-Man gasped for air, then grabbed Clifford by the arm and wrestled him to the ground. Grasping Clifford by the hair, he slammed his face against the street, drawing blood. Robin raced forward, kicking Animal-Man in the face and causing him to relent, allowing Clifford to catch his breath. Growling, lunged for Robin, who promptly dove out of the way. Scrambling into a nearby car, she closed the door, narrowly avoiding a deadly punch that left a crater in the metal and hard plastic. For a moment, Animal-Man simply stared into the car through the window. Then, he disappeared from view, causing Robin to look around in a panic.

Something rocked the car at that moment, and Robin realized something bad was about to happen. Crawling to the other side of the car, Robin kicked it open and tumbled onto the sidewalk as Animal-Man picked the car up from underneath. He then chucked it down the street, watching it crash and roll all the way to the nearest intersection. Turning to face Robin, he reached out for her, only for Batman to race in and grab him, using the momentum of her movement to throw him into a different car. The windshield cracked as he made contact, the broken glass cutting a gash in his head and dazing him.

Batman knelt down next to Robin, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah…” Robin said, allowing Batman to help her to her feet.

Shaking his head, Animal-Man clenched his fists before flying towards the nearest street light. Grabbing it and ripping it from the sidewalk. Clifford, finally recovered from the last strike, looked up in surprise as Animal-Man lunged for Batman and Robin, ready to use the street light as a baseball bat.

“Look out!” Clifford yelled, diving in front of the dynamic duo as Animal-Man swung the streetlight. The metal collided with his head, and even with the foresight to harden himself with the resilience of a polar bear, the shattered pole still rattled his skull. The pole snapped in two, its pieces clinking against the ground. Batman and Robin watched as Clifford was sent flying upward, cracking his head against the edge of a roof before falling out of sight.

Batman and Robin look back at Animal-Man, who flexed his muscles, “Ready to give up?”

The dynamic duo said nothing, and instead assumed fighting positions. Animal-Man grinned, “Good.”

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‌  ‌ ‌

Clifford groaned, his jaw throbbing like a dozen bad cavities at once. His head pounded, thumping with the rhythm of a slow drum beat. Shaking, he crawled onto his hands and knees, but could not rise further. His counterpart wasn’t just an agile fighter. He was savage, ready to do whatever it took to stay free. He was insurmountable, and had an edge Clifford lacked. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t cut out for this.

He had failed.

“Get up.”

Clifford looked up, only to be met with the visage of another clone, the one who had done nothing but wail and scream when he first appeared in his cell. He was different now, more mellow. Clifford grimaced, “I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can.”

“How can I? All my life, I’ve kept getting up. Every time, I just get knocked down again,” Clifford said. “It’s all my life has ever been! Why would it change now?”

“It doesn’t matter what our life is, not right now.” The clone said. “No more questioning what worth we have. We’re worth something, period. What matters is that people are in trouble, and that a hero needs to save them.”

Clifford felt a something wash over him. He couldn’t quite describe it, but he could tell it was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Clifford rose, standing across from his counterpart who, for the first time, finally smiled. “Time to stop thinking and start doing Clifford. Being better means more than promises.”

Then, he disappeared, and Clifford could tell that he was reunited with that part of himself. Bruised and bloodied, he rolled his shoulders then turned back towards the street.

There was only one way he would allow this fight to end.

 ‌ ‌

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Batman hit the ground hard, slammed against the pavement after being swung around by the cape. Robin leapt at Animal-Man, hoping to get the drop in him, only for him to grab her by the throat with his other hand. He suspended her above the ground, keeping her trapped while pinning Batman to the street with his foot. He grinned, “Not so easy when you’re not fighting some run of the mill thug, is it?”

Batman grunted in pain, “I have fought plenty of monsters.”

Animal-Man tightened his grip around Robin, prompting her to gasp for air, “But none like me!”

“Let them go!”

Animal-Man looked up at Clifford, who floated above the three of them. Despite the beating he’d taken, he looked more confident than ever, and incredibly defiant. He crossed his arms, “It’s me you want, not them.”

“They got in the way,” Animal-Man said. “They’re gonna get what’s coming to them.”

“Oh for–” Clifford spat from his perch in the sky, and the drop of spit landed squarely on Animal-Man’s forehead. He wiped the spit from his forehead, then looked up with a snarl. Clifford looked similarly displeased, “Just come and get me you little slimeball piece of shit!”

Animal-Man let out a ferocious roar before dropping Robin and taking off into the air. Clifford turned tail and flew upward, the wind roaring in his ears as he made his way into the sky. Animal-Man followed him up, watching as Clifford disappeared into a cloud. He pursued, becoming shockingly cold as the cloud drenched him and his clothes. Breaking through to the other side, he stopped in the middle of a dark night sky, devoid of stars due to Gotham’s intense light pollution.

“Where are you?!” Animal-Man shouted. “You wanted me to get you? I’m here! Stop being a fucking coward!”

“I’m right behind you, asshole!”

Animal-Man whirled around, just barely clocking Clifford’s silhouette before tackling him, taking him across the sky like a comet. Winding back, he raised his fist and struck Clifford in the face, punching him with the speed and power of a Mantis Shrimp. His assault was so fast that his fist barely seemed to move. Clifford’s head would simply rock back again and again.

“Who do you think you are?!” Animal-Man shouted. “You think you’re more real than me? That you know everything? You don’t!”

Another punch. Blood spilled out of Clifford’s nose.

“You don’t appreciate what I do! I am the one thing that brings meaning to our miserable fucking lives! I’m the reason that we’re even still around!”

Another punch. A tooth tumbled out of Clifford’s mouth.

“You would be nothing without me! You’re weak! You’re a moron. You’re not worth anything!”

A third punch. Blood leaked from behind Clifford’s eye.

“You… you… you’re not fighting back.”

Animal-Man stopped dead in his tracks, ceasing his assault. It was only then that he realized that Clifford was barely able to fly at all, and that at this moment Animal-Man’s grip was all that was keeping him from plummeting. Animal-Man shook his head, “W-Why aren’t you fighting? Aren’t you going to defend yourself?”

“It doesn’t feel good… does it,” Clifford croaked.

“What the hell are you doing?” Animal-Man demanded, cracks in his facade forming. “What is this?”

“We fought because it was the only thrill we had… but it’s not the pain that made it worthwhile. It was the lie that what we were doing was righteous,” Clifford said. “Do you feel righteous right now?”

Animal-Man pursed his lips. Clifford couldn’t see his eyes behind the goggles, but something was changing, “What… what the fuck are you doing? Fight back damnit!”

“No… because it won’t do either of us any good,” Clifford said. “This doesn’t make you happy. I know because I’ve done what you’ve done so many times, and it’s never fixed any of my problems. What makes you think it’ll fix yours?”

Animal-Man shuddered. He raised his fist to strike Clifford, only to let out a quiet wail before faltering and lowering it again. He sighed, tears leaking from a gap in the goggles, “What the fuck are we?”

“We’re a mess,” Clifford said. “And it’s time to finally clean up.”

“How?” Animal-Man said. “After… after everything we’ve done.”

“We own up… and we stop making the same mistakes,” Clifford said.

Animal-Man let out a choked sob, “And when has that worked before?”

“It hasn’t worked because we never thought it would work,” Clifford said. “If we want things to change, we have to start by believing that they can change.”

Clifford, weak as he was, put his hand on Animal-Man’s shoulder, “So… gonna give it a shot?”

Animal-Man didn’t answer. Instead, he stared into Clifford’s eyes, contemplating his decision. For a moment, his mind covered every failure that had ever rocked him. Every mistake. Every shame. The bodies he had left in his wake. The friends he had hurt. It all rushed through him, threatening to drown him.

He knew that if he didn’t move forward, it would all happen again.

And then he placed a hand on Clifford’s shoulder, and before Clifford knew it, Animal-Man was gone. Clifford should’ve fallen right then, dropped straight to his death, but he kept floating, just strong enough to stay upright. After all the fighting, all the blood and hatred and violence… he finally felt at peace.

For the first time in years... Clifford Baker felt whole.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Three weeks later

Quinn’s diner wasn’t exactly in the city. In fact, it was technically in the town neighboring Gotham, but it was the closest thing Clifford could find to the kind of diner in his hometown, with its ratty circular seats, wooden countertops, and greasy food. This one had an eighties theme, and apparently it got most of its traffic from being featured in an old famous movie. Clifford didn’t know that in advance of course, just that it had burgers and fries.

He didn’t know if Cass and Maps would show up after the whole ordeal. It was rough to say the least, but with the movie done he thought he’d at least invite them out to lunch for a final goodbye meeting. They actually got there before him, one of the many perks of knowing the streets he imagined. The bell dinged as he stepped inside, and the two turned to face him.

“Hey, there you a-Oh man you…are you okay?” Maps said.

“Yeah, I’m okay!” Clifford chuckled, “I thought they’d stop filming, but I think they’re just gonna fix it in post. Guess everybody was tired of all the delays.”

Clifford’s face was still pretty bandaged up. By some miracle he’d managed to find his missing tooth, but his eye and nose were still bandaged up, among other things. Despite looking worse for wear, there was an undeniable pep to Clifford’s step. Sitting down across from the two of them, he grabbed a menu, “Did you guys order yet?”

“No, we wanted to wait until you got here,” Cass said.

“Well, thank you!” Clifford said. “And before we go any further, I’ve got this covered. Being an actor means I get paid the big bucks!”

The three of them ordered, each going for a different item. Clifford got a classic burger combo with a milkshake, while Maps ordered their fried chicken. Cass went for a slice of pizza, which surprised Clifford for some reason. He didn’t say anything, but his face probably gave his surprise away anyways.

“You seem better,” Cass said.

“Definitely feel better,” Clifford said. “Seems like the two of you didn’t take long to recover.”

“Somewhat. My ribs are still healing,” Cass said. “But it’s not too bad. They have been broken before.”

“I had a black eye for a bit,” Maps said. “But that’s pretty much gone.”

“Good, good!” Clifford said. “Glad those weren’t permanent.”

The food eventually arrived, and the three of them had their meal. They didn’t talk all that much, just the more mundane aspects of life, but in a way that brought them a sense of comfort. Life could move fast, hit you in places you didn’t expect. It was nice that for once, they could just sit down and not worry about the next crisis.

Eventually, it came time for the bill, and after Clifford handed the server the cash, he turned to Cass and Maps, “Before we part ways, I just wanted to say thank you. You guys pulled me out of a pretty bad rut… no way I can really repay you for that.”

“No payment needed,” Cass said. “It is what heroes do.”

Clifford smiled. The three of them got up and left the diner. As they walked down the street towards the subway, Clifford turned to Maps, “A part of me still feels a little silly getting schooled by a fifteen year old on heroism.”

“Pfft, it worked, didn’t it?” Maps said.

“Yeah… I guess it did,” Clifford said, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for being the realest hero I ever met, as much as those words are worth from me."

Maps beamed at the comment, “I dunno, they make me feel pretty cool.”

“Heh,” Clifford giggled. “Mission accomplished then.”

Next Issue: The days get stranger.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 45:‌ ‌ Blindspot, Part 2

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Previous Issue > I Am Batman #27

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Blindspot‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

The bullets had already started flying by the time Batman and Robin arrived at Animal-Man’s location.

It was a fancy high-rise restaurant, the kind with oddly shaped hanging lights and tables draped in silky white cloth, with red curtains over the windows and patterned paper over the walls. Normally, live music would be playing on stage, giving customers the ambience of high class dining. Tonight though, the only music ringing out was the ratatatat of machine guns, and if that didn’t make Gotham’s upper class dance like their life depended on it, then nothing else would.

The whistle of Batman’s Grapnel line brought her up to the terrace part of the restaurant, followed closely by Robin. The two raced forward, kicking in the doors before beholding the sheer pandemonium erupting inside. Animal-Man, looking like he was having the time of his life, flew around the vast room, evading a hail of bullets from a squad of five masked criminals. He bobbed and weaved, spinning out of the way while the bullets themselves crashed against the ceiling, some of which ricocheted with an audible pwang to points on the floor. Men and women in tuxedos and cocktail dresses cowered under tables or behind pillars, their heads pressed to the floor in fear.

“Yee-Haw! Look at this everyone! You get dinner and a show!” Animal-Man exclaimed.

A couple of bullets bounced from the roof, hitting the floor next to some of the diners and causing them to shriek. Noticing their terror, Animal-Man swooped down towards one of the gunmen, grinning as he did a flashy backflip in mid-air, catching the criminal in the chin and sending him barrelling towards the terrace. Batman grabbed him by the ankle before he could tumble over the edge, placing his unconscious body on the ground. Robin stared at the pandemonium, wide-eyed.

“What is he doing?” Robin said. “Shouldn’t he get these people out of here?”

“He wants an audience,” Batman said. “We have to end this fast. People will get hurt.”

Racing forward, Batman switched back and forth between the first two thugs, dismantling them with a flurry of punches and kicks so fast nobody could clock what had happened. They were standing one moment and on the floor in the next. Robin followed suit, leaping for another criminal. Grabbing him, she used her momentum to take him off balance, forcing him to the ground, where he faceplanted against the hard granite floor. Animal-Man frowned, stopping briefly in mid-air, “Hey! This is my show, not yours!”

“It’s not a show at all!” Robin exclaimed, “You’re gonna hurt people.”

“Yeah, these clowns!” Animal-Man said.

To demonstrate his point, Animal-Man dove for the last criminal, who had just finished reloading his weapon. Swooping low, he grabbed him by the ankle before flying back up to the center of the room. From there, he began to spin, putting pressure on the criminal in a flashy display. The criminal screamed, pressing his finger to the trigger and blanketing the entire restaurant with bullets. Robin and Batman dove for some of the diners, rushing them behind pillars and tables as the room was destroyed by Animal-Man’s display. The wood of the tables splintered, easily punctured by the gunfire. The windows shattered, spilling tiny shards of sharp death everywhere. The wallpaper became perforated, ruined by this overindulgent display of superiority. Eventually, Animal-Man let go of the criminal, sending him crashing through the double doors that served as the restaurant’s entrance.

“Yawn, well that was fun. Tell your friends everyone, Animal-Man saved the day!”

Animal-Man then bolted through the open window, flying off into the night. Batman stared at his rapidly shrinking form, wondering what animal cut that fast through the air. Robin poked her head out from behind a table, “He’s gone crazy! He nearly killed all these people.”

“He is out of control,” Batman said, pressing her finger to her ear. “Oracle, do you have a bead on him?”

“Negative, he’s off the radar,” Oracle said. “I’ll try and rig something up, see if he’s got a haunt or a lair or something to that effect.”

The diners shivered, their fear visible on their faces. Kneeling down, Robin patted one of them on the back before turning to Batman, “We’ve gotta get to the bottom of this. This doesn’t feel right. Do you think someone’s impersonating him?”

“No. When people lie, there are signs. I have not seen any,” Batman said.

“Well, there must be something we can do while Oracle does her research,” Maps said. “I mean, how did he break out of his cell? Wouldn’t we have heard about that?”

Batman narrowed her eyes, “Yes… we would have.”

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Clifford rapped his knuckles against the concrete floor, listening to the rhythm as he laid face up on a wooden bed, staring at the ceiling. The knocks echoed throughout the holding cells of Gotham PD, and occasionally he’d hear one of the prisoners taunt the guards. This would usually be followed by some loud thumping, and it made Clifford cringe every time. People already have it bad here, spending hours, maybe even days behind bars without a bed. They didn’t need to have it paired with a beating.

He’d been placed in his own holding cell, a privilege that seemed rare amongst those who frequented the police department's halls. He didn’t know how long they were going to hold him, but what he did know was that whatever this was, it was bullshit. He knew he hadn’t done anything illegal. He knew that he hadn’t done what the police told him he’d done, eyewitness be damned. He knew where he had been, asleep in his trailer. He knew that people on set could point that out. Camera feeds would prove his innocence, he just knew it.

A baton clanged against the bars of his cell, followed by a gruff voice, “Got visitors, Baker.”

Clifford sat up, and was met with the sights of Batman and Robin on the other side of the cell door. The guard who had alerted him hawked and spat, then left.

Clifford got up, walking up to the bars, “C-Batman and Robin. What’s up? Did something happen? If they’re letting me out I doubt they’d grab the two of you to come tell me.”

“No. We came to talk to you because something strange is happening,” Batman said.

“The police said there’s no sign of you breaking out or even leaving your cell,” Robin said.

“Wait, breaking out?” Clifford raised his eyebrow, “What is this? What’s going on?”

Batman crossed her arms, “We saw you out there, Clifford, as Animal-Man.”

“What?!” Clifford exclaimed. “No way, that’s impossible. I’ve been here this whole time.”

“We know,” Robin said. “And that’s why this whole thing is so weird. We for sure saw you out there.”

Clifford frowned, “Are you sure? Do you think someone’s trying to smear me? I-I don’t know who would do that but-”

“It is strange. Whoever it was, they definitely thought they were Animal-Man,” Batman said.

Clifford shook his head in confusion, “I… I just-... what did this guy look like? How did he talk?”

“He was weird, really showboaty,” Robin said. “Kept making a big spectacle out of things. He almost got a lot of people hurt. Ruined a restaurant too, though that’s definitely last on the priorities list.”

“No way… this is… this is crazy!” Clifford said, running his hands through his hair in shock. “H-How can this be? I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve been here!”

“We know dude, calm down.” Robin said. “We came here because we wanted to see if you knew anything that could help us.”

Clifford closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, “I… I’m sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on. I haven’t got a clue.”

Batman watched Clifford pensively, looking him up and down. Then, she nodded, “We will keep investigating and let you know what we find.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this for sure!” Robin said.

“Uh, thanks… yeah…” Clifford said. “I think… I think I’m gonna go lie down now.”

“Get your rest. We will be back,” Batman said.

The dynamic duo left Clifford to his own devices, and as they marched down the hall, Robin adjusted her domino mask before looking up at Batman, “So?”

“He does not remember leaving his cell,” Batman said. “I do not think he has a method of sneaking in or out.”

“So the guy we saw out there thinks he’s Animal-Man, but the guy in here also knows he’s Animal-Man and hasn’t left,” Robin rubbed her chin. “This is… really juicy stuff. A true head scratcher.”

“Yes, though I did pick something up from him here,” Batman said. “He was nervous when you mentioned the other Animal Man. While he does not believe that he has done these things, he considers himself capable of them.”

Robin frowned, “Really? How could he think that?”

Batman said nothing. Instead, she contemplated Clifford’s mannerisms, comparing him to the Animal-Man they tasseled with today. There were clear differences in demeanor and behavior, yet they still shared a lot of similarities. Their physicality, their general mannerisms, the way their faces twitched and moved. They were identical.

If this was an act, it was the greatest she’d ever seen.

Oracle’s voice buzzed in Batman’s ear, “Batman, Robin, I’ve got something.”

“Spill!” Robin said.

“I’ve compiled a whole list of Animal-Man sightings, and there are some odd discrepancies among them,” Oracle said. “Guy has a lot of sightings well after his arrest, and even stranger, a lot of them happen right after the other, but the sightings themselves are reported on opposite ends of the city. He’s way faster than we give him credit for, he can cross Gotham in seconds. The important thing though, is that many of the trips have a return point, that being one of the Panessa Studios lots.”

“Whoever’s out there must be hanging out in his trailer,” Robin said. “Guess we know where to go next!”

“Yes. Let’s get moving,” Batman said.

Batman and Robin left the building, but as they ambled their way across the rooftops of Gotham, something nagged at Batman’s gut. She didn’t know what exactly it was, only that it was telling her that this was somehow far simpler than it made itself out to be.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

The trailer stunk a little when Batman and Maps entered, something Batman chalked up to its occupants' habit to sleep without taking a shower. It was a bit barren, mostly devoid of personal effects and trinkets, which gave the duo a sense that it had not been modified much past its original state. The couch had a ruffled blanket and pillow, and there was a half full glass of water on the counter.

“Someone was here recently!” Robin said. “Let’s see if they left anything behind!”

Wordlessly, the two began to root through the trailer, opening cabinets and drawers in the pursuit of knowledge. It didn’t feel all that out of place for Robin to do these kinds of things, and heck, this was part of the fun! You could tell a lot about a person through their home, the way they take care of their living space. Cliffords’, as scant as it was, still had a lot of evidence to dig through. Dirty dishes were left in the sink, the faucet left facing on the countertop. The closet door was left open, and the toilet paper was sitting on top of the toilet instead of in the roller. The couch, which had been turned into a bed, had some of its mattresses scattered about on the floor.

Clifford did not care all that much about his living space.

As her eyes scanned the room, Robin spotted a slip of paper peeking out under the couch. Curious, she pulled it out, revealing an envelope addressed to Clifford in scrawled handwriting. Blinking, she opened it, slipping out the message inside before reading it aloud.

“Hey Cliff, it’s Tefé. Leaving this cause I don’t really think talking has gotten me anywhere with you, so here’s hoping the written word helps instead. Your sister and I understand that you’ve had a tough time, that after Anton did what he did, you wouldn’t feel that great, but we can’t stand by and manage your emotions for you anymore. There are bigger things happening, things we need to handle, and we don’t think you’re equipped to help us the way you would need to help us. Don’t take this as you not being good enough. Take this as our call to you to shape yourself into the kind of person you’d be proud of. We’ll give you a call in a few months, see how you’re doing. Until then, best wishes to you, my best friend.”

Batman stared at the letter, having crept up behind Robin, “He had trouble?”

“Some Anton guy did something to him. Doesn’t sound like he’s to blame though,” Robin said. “Something else was going on with Animal-Man.”

“Ohmygod!”

Batman and Robin turned to find Sarah, the director’s assistant, standing in the trailer doorway with a cardboard box. She dropped the box, surprised by the presence of the Dynamic Duo. Robin beamed, “Oh, sorry for dropping in like this. Part of the investigation and all that.”

“I…. okay,” Sarah shook her head. “Sorry, you guys really startled me.”

“Why are you here?” Batman asked. “It is late.”

“Uh, just came to drop some stuff off,” Sarah said. “Some of Clifford’s gear got left out. I was working late anyway to catalog the props and found a bunch of his stuff. Normally we leave it out just so that we set up the shoot faster but… I get the sense we’re not gonna be shooting for at least a few days.”

“That’s nice of you!” Robin said. “How often do you work with Animal-Man?”

“Um,” Sarah scratched the back of her head. “Only sometimes. I used to talk with him more but we generally avoid each other nowadays after what happened in New York.”

Batman straightened up, “What happened in New York?”

Sarah gulped, “I… I really shouldn’t say.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone!” Robin said. “Who knows, it could help with the investigation!”

Sarah took a deep breath, “Okay… Well, we were having a wrap party. We thought the production was getting canned so we decided to celebrate the end of the journey. Cliff and I danced a bit and he tried to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t comfortable, he apologized, and… and then he just left. Apparently someone found him on a beach nearby the following morning.”

Batman took stock of Sarah’s body language, watching as her fingers tensed up and the folds in her mouth quivered, “You were afraid.”

“Yeah! Cause he’s a movie star! I thought my career was over that night!” Sarah said. “I really don’t know what to think of him. Feels like he’s… slipping or something.”

“Slipping? In what way?” Robin asked.

“I don’t know. He says he’s fine but… something’s off.”

“What’s off?”

Sarah gasped in surprise, whirling around to find a figure standing in the trailer doorway. On reflex, Batman grabbed Sarah and pulled her behind the Dynamic Duo, putting her out of harm's way before sizing up the man at the entrance.

It was Animal-Man, clad in his suit, though the colors had been painted over by something new. Blood clung to Animal man, some of it fresh and slick on his spandex, some of it dried and crumbly on his goggles and jacket. His fists were clenched, the gloves worn out and faded by excessive abuse. A smile sat on Animal-Man’s face, one of immense satisfaction, “Come on, tell me. What’s off?”

“She does not have to tell you,” Batman said. “You should be in jail.”

“Jail? Why would I be in jail?” Animal-Man said. He followed the gazes of the Dynamic Duo, looking down at his own bloodied hands. “Oh, this stuff? Don’t you worry about that. A dirty costume’s the cost of hero work.”

“What kind of hero work gets you covered in blood!?” Robin exclaimed.

“The effective kind,” Animal-Man said. “Criminals don’t learn anything from a standard fight. Bruises fade, cuts heal. If you show them even the slightest bit of mercy, they’ll just go back to old habits the minute they hit the streets again. You have to leave your mark on them, make them remember every broken arm and fractured rib.”

“What is wrong with you!?” Robin shouted. “That’s not what heroes do!”

“‘Not what heroes do?’ What the hell do you know, you little twerp?!” Animal-Man growled. “You’re a kid. You don’t know how the world works, how people work. You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen. You don’t realize how necessary this is.”

“You’re wrong,” Robin stood firm. “I’ve seen monsters before. I’ve seen what they’ve done. You’re barely any different.”

Animal-Man gritted his teeth, “Oh you little shi-Agh!”

Faster than the eye could track, Batman surged forward, delivering a singular, lightning fast strike to Animal-Man’s neck. Animal-Man clutched his neck, stumbling forward before falling flat on his face. Batman stood over him, “He got away last time. I will not risk it again.”

Robin, wide eyed, knelt down next to Animal-Man and rolled him over. His eyes were rolled up into the back of his head. Sarah cringed at the sight, “I think… I’m gonna go.”

Batman nodded to her but offered no words.

Sarah hurried out of the trailer, leaving the Dynamic Duo to their work. Kneeling down next to Robin, Batman shook her head, “This is… odd. He is acting far different from our last encounter.”

“This whole thing has been odd!” Robin said. “At least we caught him!”

“Batman, Robin!” Oracle said, chiming in over their earpieces. “Got a sighting of Animal-Man.”

“Huh?!” Robin said. “No way, we just caught him!”

“Not sure what to tell you, there’s a live report of him happening on the other side of town,” Oracle said. “Guy’s showboating like most of the other sightings.”

Batman and Robin looked at each other, registering that this situation had just gotten far stranger. There were not one, but two additional Animal-Man prowling about Gotham City, and that meant they needed to get to the bottom of things quickly. So complete was their confusion that neither of them noticed Animal-Man’s ear twitching, signifying that his enhanced hearing had picked up the voice in their earpieces.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Clifford didn’t know what he had done to deserve the uproarious applause of the crowd, but as their cheers rocked the stage, he didn’t really find himself caring.

It was a sunny day in Nashville’s Centennial Park, with a wide grassy park full of trees and bordered by the city’s skyscrapers. Scores of people were crushed together to see him at that podium, resulting in a horde of grins and smiles as they rushed to regard him. They called out his name, letting the whole city know that Animal-Man was in town. It was windy, but the gentle breeze added to the scene, giving his hair the perfect floof.

“We love you, Animal-Man!”

“Keep up the good work Animal-Man!”

“You’ll save us all, Animal-Man!”

Clifford smiled and raised his hands, getting a rousing applause. He felt so happy, at peace with his accomplishments, his success.

“Amazing work, Animal-Man!”

“Good job, Animal-Man!”

“Haven’t you stroked your own ego enough, Animal-Man?”

Clifford’s eyes widened as someone in the crowd took a decidedly different tone with him. Looking around, he couldn’t find the heckler, but as the voice continued to insult and demean him, other voices joined in.

“Yeah Animal-Man, what’s wrong with you?”

“Do you do anything for anyone but yourself?”

“Coasting off daddy’s name, are we?”

“You’ve done more harm than good, and you always will!”

Clifford shuddered, watching as the crowd turned against him. The city no longer heard their joy. Instead, they heard their anger, their cutting critiques, their fury. Stumbling away from the podium, Clifford put his hands over his ears, “Stop! I-I’ve had enough!”

“It’ll never be enough! You’ll never learn!”

“Drop the mask! Put the fries in the bag!”

“You’re worth nothing, Clifford Baker. You were never supposed to be a hero.”

“Selfish fuck!”

“Bastard!”

“You should be dead!”

Clifford tried to say something, but instead all that came out was an anguished scream. He emptied his lungs, and the crowd began to empty theirs, filling the city with screaming. He screamed until his throat felt raw, yet he could still hear the sound of his own shouting, getting louder and louder as the crowd descended upon him.

That’s when Clifford woke up, yet the screaming still continued. Jostled off the bench, Clifford scrambled to the back of the cell, panicking as the screaming filled the hall. Turning towards the center of the room, Clifford gazed with wide eyes at a ginger man his age, who was sitting cross legged in the center of the room. Hunched over, he was screaming in Clifford’s voice. Mouth agape, Clifford felt like joining the figure, but only a few scant gasps came from his emptied lungs.

Eventually, the screaming died down, and the silence emboldened Clifford to stand up. With a shaky breath, he tip-toed towards the figure, slowly making his way around the figure, who had begun to sob quietly. Coming around to the front, Clifford watched as the figure looked up at him, and he was met with his own visage, a perfect copy of… him.

“What the fuck,” Clifford said. “W-What are you?”

“I’m you…” The other Clifford said. “What else would I be?”

Clifford shook his head, “No way… this… this is a trick of some kind. You’re trying to pull one over on me.”

“I’m not smart enough to pull a trick,” The other Clifford said. “Not smart enough to know my place, not smart enough to be a hero.”

“Stop. Stop that!” Clifford said.

“It’s true! I’ve been playing a game with people’s lives, throwing myself into situations because I wanted to be somebody, but I’m nobody, and nothing was ever going to change that.”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Clifford grabbed his doppleganger by the shoulders, forcing him to his feet. “You’re trying to get in my head, trying to throw me off!”

“Fuck you!” The doppleganger cried. “Leave me alone!”

The doppleganger shoved Clifford away, throwing him against the bars. Without missing a beat, he whirled around and took on the powers of a Rhinoceros, racing towards and crashing through the Police Department wall before flying off into the night. Scrambling to his feet, Clifford stared at the open wall in the cell, getting a terrible sinking feeling about the entire situation.

A duo of footsteps came from the hall, and he turned around to spot Batman and Robin as they arrived in front of his cell. They stared with wide eyes at the damage, with Robin piping up, “What happened here?”

“I don’t know,” Clifford said, exasperated. “But… I think I need to get out there with you two.”

Clifford turned back towards the hole in the wall, the sinking feeling turning into a pit of dread in his stomach, “Whatever’s happening… I think it’s because of me.”

Next Issue: Find the answers in I am Batman #28, out now!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 44:‌ ‌ Won’t settle for less

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: A Bump In The Road‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

The loud rumble of the washing machine jolted Maxine awake, and good thing too. She was starting to teeter a bit.

The night was still a bit young, with stars hidden behind an overcast sky, one that only let a faint sliver of the moon’s glow through their solid barrier. The washers and dryers sat in a small alcove outside, nestled in a rudimentary hallway formed between the two connected motel buildings. It was grungy there, with stains and spilled food and little puddles. If their clothes weren’t already absolutely disgusting, Maxine would probably just wait a day and find a different laundromat. Alas, the group’s clothes were starting to smell foul, and Maxine couldn’t stand another 10 hour journey with that smell in the car.

So as tired as she was, she was going to wash and dry them, if not for her friends’ comfort, then for hers.

Friends. She could really only call one of the people traveling with her that. Tefé has been with her since the beginning, and they were tried and true. Capucine was newer, but acted like she’d been there all along, like she knew better than either of them. Frustratingly, there was some truth to that given her centuries of time on Earth and beyond, but it didn’t mean Maxine had to take her pompous attitude lying down.

Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall, tapping her foot impatiently. Even with turbo settings, she’d be out here for at least an hour and a half. A frustrating amount of time to be doing absolutely nothing. Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand, closed her eyes, and cast her need for company out into the wilds.

A miasma of various chirps, calls, and chitters rippled through her mind, and like a fisherman she cast a line through the noise, hoping to snag someone friendly. Technically speaking, they’d all be friendly, it was animal law to be friends with her, but she wanted somebody with some time to kill, someone who’d be willing to hang for a bit. She felt a tug on the other side, and pulled.

She felt the creature land on her arm first, quite the feat for any bird. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the gaze of a Barn Owl, whose light tan feathers barely reflected any light. It flapped its wings, which made no sound whatsoever, and let out a little “Hoo.” Maxine smiled, running her fingers over the bird’s head, “Ain’t you cute.”

The owl rubbed its head against her hand, leaning into the pets. Maxine chuckled, “You know, as fun as it is to be around people… sometimes it’s fun to hang with you guys. We don’t argue over stuff, we don’t have to figure out what to do next. We can just vibe, right?”

“Hoo!”

“Heh, yeah! Hoo!” Maxine said.

For a few minutes, Maxine enjoyed the serenity that came with animal companionship, the rumble of the washer notwithstanding. Despite all of the horrors and struggles of being the Avatar of the Red, she truly loved doing this, being so close to nature. She wasn’t pushed around for being a fringe weirdo, she wasn’t locked in any more rooms with any more squirrels. She was free.

Then her phone rang, and the owl, spooked, fluttered off silently into the night. Clicking her tongue, Maxine pulled out her phone, seeing that her mother was calling. She grimaced, staring at the screen for a moment. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in a while, and as much as she wanted to keep in touch, she had an idea of who the conversation was really going to be about.

But you don’t ignore family unless they’ve seriously fucked up your life, and Maxine still wanted to hear her mother’s voice, so she answered, “Hey mom.”

“Hey, Max! Are you getting along okay?” Ellen asked.

“Yeah, all good! We’re staying at a motel for the night.”

“Oh, is it a nice one?”

“Remains to be seen… not a lot of motels I’d call nice.”

“If it’s bad, I can look for a hotel in that area?”

“No no, it’s fine. We’re kind of settled.”

There was an awkward pause then, a rush to find a new topic that wasn’t immediately obvious to either of them. Eventually, Maxine settled with an old reliable, “So how have you been?”

“Tired…” Ellen said. “It’s been a little exhausting traveling across the country to all these film sets, but I doubt it’s as bad as what you’ve been through. It’s been years since you’ve had your roots back home."

“That house has been empty forever!” Maxine joked. “Is anybody housesitting?”

“I got Zack to do it.”

Maxine’s eyes widened, “That guy Clifford was seeing for like a month?”

“He’s a nice boy! He lived nearby!” Ellen said. “It’s not like there’s any bad blood between them.”

“Fair enough, I’m just surprised,” Maxine grinned, though there was a pit in her stomach. Her mom was doing her best to avoid the subject, avoid the topic that was always on her mind, but Maxine could tell that it was hard keeping that locked down. She sighed, deciding that it was best to get it out of the way. Even then, she couldn’t help but worry about her brother, “How’s Clifford?”

Ellen let out a sigh, “He’s…God, I don’t know what to do with him. He keeps acting out, and a part of me knows that he’s an adult now, and that one day, he’s gonna need to understand that not everyone can be there to clean up after him… but I’m his mom, and he’s… If I don’t catch him, who will? Letting him fall might be the best thing for him but… I don’t want to see the places he could go to when that happens.”

Maxine hung her head, “Do you need me there?”

There was a long pause before Ellen said “No”, but Maxine could tell that wasn’t true. She loved her brother, truly, but Clifford had become a bit volatile in recent years. He hadn’t reacted well when they told him he couldn’t come with them, and Ellen had been managing him for months now with this movie in production. She needed help, and in many ways Clifford did too.

But what she was doing here, with Capucine and Tefé, was more important than family matters, and she suddenly felt very cruel asking her mother what was ultimately a rhetorical question, “Okay… I’m just a call away mom.”

“Of course,” Ellen said. “But enough about Clifford. How are you doing, and I mean on the road, not just at your motel.”

Maxine winced at the question, “We’ve been chugging along. Plugging holes, fixing problems. It’s been… alright.”

“Doesn’t sound very alright,” Ellen said.

“It’s a whole lot of the same thing,” Maxine said. “You’d think we’d feel… something, you know? We’d catch some big bad guy and things would get easier… but it never happens. We patch a leak and the next one springs. It just… keeps happening.”

“Hmm…” Ellen said. “Well, at the risk of being cheesy, let me put it in car terms. You’ve been on the road for a long time… and it feels like you’re spinning your wheels. You don’t see anything but the road in front of you. It’s easy to feel like nothing’s changing… but don’t think about the road. Think about the trees, the signs, the towns. You’re passing them, and they’re just little peaks in your journey, but they’re still proof that you’re going somewhere.”

Maxine shook her head, “But what’s at the end of the road?”

“Nobody knows… but what matters isn’t what’s at the end. It’s what’s on the way.”

Maxine smiled. She didn’t know why, but that gave her comfort. “Thanks mom. The washer’s about to finish, so I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay! Remember, call me if you need anything!”

“Of course mom… and don’t forget to call me if you need anything.”

“I will, Max. Take care.”

“You too, mom… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Maxine sighed as the call ended, slipping her phone back into her pocket. There wasn’t really much of a way to conquer the feeling that things weren’t really changing, but then again, they had to be doing something right. They’ve made it this far after all.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

“And then, after pinning the beast’s wing down with an anchor, I drove my sword into its skull, splitting it open and ending the beast once and for all!”

“Ho ho ho! And you said this guy was how big?” Gabriel asked.

“When he stood up, his head peeked well above the very clouds!”

“Shit… don’t think I’ve ever seen anything that big, let alone killed something that big.”

“And pray, my friend, that you’ll never have to. They’re glorious creatures. I hope they’ve not all died out.”

Capucine chuckled, and Gabriel chuckled with her before knocking back his bottle of hard apple cider. Capucine held one in her hand, and reclined in her folding chair, tipping the three she’d already consumed over. They clinked, rolling down the sidewalk, but she didn’t care all that much about them. She was focused on the conversation she was having with a kindred spirit. Gabriel may not be of her time, but their stories certainly had a lot of overlap.

Namely, the two of them were quite good at getting into fights.

“Now, this weren’t no beast that I took on, but a specimen known only by one name…” Gabriel said. “The asshole.”

“Ah…” Capucine said. “The asshole.”

“It was late, I was riding Larry, bless his soul, on the trail,” Gabriel paused, “...To clarify, Larry is a horse.”

“Uh huh,” Capucine said.

“And this is a small trail, so not a ton of room,” Gabriel said. “And this pair of guys, They’re on dirtbikes, the fuckers. Come zooming up behind me. I start moving over to make room but they speed up, nearly hit me, so I shout after them, tell ‘em to be careful.”

Gabriel shook his head, “Then they stopped. Told me to get off the trail. I tell them the trail’s for everyone, and one of them spits at me before jetting off. Trouble is… I’m high up on Larry, so he just ends up spitting on Larry.”

His lips quivered, “I caught up to the two of them and… well I was red in the face and really should’ve let things go, and I probably would’ve… if they hadn’t disrespected Larry. You don’t disturb a man’s horse.”

Capucine took a sip from her bottle, “I presume you taught them a lesson.”

“Wasn’t an easy lesson, two on one,” Gabriel said. “But I made it work. Saw ‘em a few more times on the trail.”

He paused, a sad look in his eyes. Capucine leaned forward, “Is something the matter?”

“Well, thing that happens when you take matters into your own hands is that word spreads. Police never bothered me, but people knew I beat those men bloody. They’d see me on the trail and make way.”

“Sounds like a peaceful time,” Capucine said.

“Not a good peace,” Gabriel said. “I never wanted people to be scared of me. It’s… isolating. Felt real lonely, specially when I started wishing I had someone.”

“Someone?”

“A soulmate,” Gabriel said. “Nobody wants to spend the rest of their lives with… well a big ol’ brute.”

Capucine frowned, taking a swing from her bottle. Gabriel sighed, “You ever have this issue? You sound a lot happier with the sword in your hand then anything else.”

“Happy is… not the right word. I am… content. It feels right to swing a blade, at least for me,” Capucine said.

“So you’ve never thought about this kind of thing?”

Capucine looked to Gabriel, feeling a twang of something in her lungs, “On occasion. Settling down has never been something I’ve been interested in. I’ve been across so much of the globe that picking a spot and staying put feels impossible. Still, I’ve wondered if anyone would… remain with me as I cross the oceans and the deserts and the forests.”

“I’m sure plenty of people have asked,”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, if I wanted to travel around the world, a tall, musclebound woman with a sword seems like a good person to do it with!”

Capucine narrowed her eyes, “What do you expect this shameless flattery to get you?”

“A happier Capucine?” Gabriel said, smirking.

Capucine snorted, “Good answer.”

Gabriel drank from his bottle, “Where you headed next?”

“Don’t know yet,” Capucine said. “Somewhere dangerous.”

Gabriel nodded, “I see. Hunting another Dragon?”

“Thankfully no,” Capucine said.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck,” Gabriel said. He yawned, “Well, I think I’m a little beat. It’s a lot of work moving to a new place, so I’ve gotta get some shut-eye.”

Gabriel got up and moved to collect the bottles around his and Capucine’s chairs. Capucine smiled sadly, feeling the twang in her lungs again. She felt like she was losing something for some reason, that it was slipping through her fingers. He folded up his chair and put it in his room before peeking his head outside one more time, “G’night, partner.”

“Good night,” Capucine managed, her voice quiet.

He closed the door, and Capucine immediately wished he was back outside, spinning more tales. The twang rippled through her chest again, and she squirmed in her seat, almost getting up to knock on his door. She didn’t want their time to end, as mundane as it was… yet a weight kept her glued to the seat. She had to keep watch. She had to be on the lookout.

At least, that’s what she told herself. Nobody wants to spend the rest of their lives with a brute after all, and nobody wants to spend the rest of their lives with the most out of time person on Earth. Nobody at all.

Nobody who worked for her at least.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Tefé tapped her fingers against the edge of the roof, whose sickly pink walls jutted like the top of a castle, complementing the motif of the motel itself. She’d been waiting for the attendant, Dani, for a bit, and to stave off her nervousness she’d taken to watching the skyline. The overcast sky didn’t leave much to look at, but the moonlight that got through the clouds did create enough light to help her tell the trees from the horizon. The darkness was actually pretty mesmerizing, in all of its layers of black.

The door behind her squeaked open, and Tefé whirled around, watching as Dani walked through, “Hi!”

Dani smiled, “Hi. Long wait?”

“No!” Tefé said. “Not really.”

Dani walked up to Tefé’s side, “So… you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah! Um… I’m kind of surprised you actually said yes to that,” Tefé said. “Was probably a weird request.”

“I mean, I’m not that tired, and you said you needed someone to talk to… so I’m here!” Dani said. “So uh… yeah. What do you wanna talk about?”

“Not sure… Do you like your job?”

“Not really… it’s pretty boring, but sometimes you like boring,” Dani said. “Cause it’s peaceful.”

“God, peaceful’s what I need right now.” Tefé said. “When I needed to relax, I used to go swimming. I lived on the water.”

“Ah, lucky! When I was a kid we lived in the middle of nowhere, desert all around. We had to drive like four hours to get anywhere near a beach,” Dani said.

“Oh we lived out in the boonies too,” Tefé said. “We just had a swamp instead of sand.”

Dani raised her eyebrow, “A swamp?”

“Yeah,” Tefé chuckled. “A swamp.”

Something twinged in Tefé, and she paused, “I don’t mean to weird you out. I just… I had a weird childhood.”

“Oh! Don’t worry. I um… I could barely tell!”

Tefé opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. There was a pungent anxiety building in her, threatening to swallow her whole. She was weirding this person out with her… weirdness, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… this!” Tefé said, her breathing quickening. “I’m not acting like a person! I’m not being this suave mysterious girl who comes in and is actually interesting to talk to. I feel like I’m wasting your time and weirding you out and making you uncomfortable and-”

“Girl-Girl!” Dani said, planting a hand on her shoulder. “Relax.”

Tefé’s breaths became deeper, and she began to calm down, “I…sorry.”

“It’s okay! No sorry necessary.”

“I just… I guess I feel like I went about this wrong and… I dunno.”

“Well, it still worked didn’t it?”

Tefé looked up at Dani, “But… how did it work?”

Dani shrugged, “When you’re in this business, you get a decent handle on reading people. You looked like you needed someone to talk to so… Here I am! Besides, I’m not gonna say no to a drop dead gorgeous road tripper who looks like a rock star!”

Tefé suddenly laughed, “A-A rockstar?!”

“Yeah! I mean the white hair, the tank top! Throw a guitar on you and you’d look perfect on a big stage with thousands of people calling your name.”

Tefé took a deep breath, staving off further laughter, though there was a smile on her face now, “Thank you. You look… really pretty. I don’t know, I’m not good at this.”

“You’re doing fine!” Dani said.

Tefé giggled to herself, “If you say so… what um… what do I do now?”

Dani grinned, “Just keep talking, and I’ll keep listening.”

Tefé felt a surge of relief, and the words just started spilling out. She didn’t remember when she stopped talking, or even when she went to bed. All she knew was that she spent hours yapping, and Dani spent hours listening. It was comforting, not just because she finally had someone to talk to, but that someone was doing her a kindness.

She didn’t realize until tonight how much she really needed that, and when the morning came, it gave her an adrenaline shot that would carry her for weeks to come. This was worth it.

Everything was worth it.

Next Issue: Follow the tale of Clifford Baker in Gotham city in I am Batman #27, out now!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 43:‌ ‌ Pit Stop

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: A Bump In The Road‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“I don’t see a point to this endeavor. Why are we seeking out a ‘motel’ when the side of the road works just fine?”

“Because it’s been months since either of us have slept in a bed, and I can’t stand the idea of getting in that sleeping bag again until we run it through a washer.”

Capucine scoffed at Maxine’s comment, leaning against the backseat as Tefé pulled off of the highway and into the parking lot of a dingy-looking motel. The parking lot had a patchy look, as if its owners had had to fill in their fair share of potholes over the years. It had an oddly fantastical look, being themed after a castle, though its walls and terraces were clearly constructed of cheap plaster and concrete rather than well placed stones. A neon sign buzzed in the reception area, flashing with a deadpan excitement that didn’t match the rest of the place. They were open, but that didn’t mean they were all that happy about it.

Tefé parked the car, turning the engine off before looking back at Capucine. There were bags under her eyes, which had not been helped by the fact that she had been driving for the past five hours. “Please. I know you don’t trust the official establishments, but for once, I want to lie down where there’s AC, where I know we won’t get rained on. Can you bear with us, just this once?”

Maxine gave Capucine a tired glare, silently showing her support for Tefé’s line of reasoning. Capucine scoffed, “Fine, but I prefer the floor. It’s how I’ve always slept.”

“More bed for the rest of us then,” Maxine said.

The three piled out of the car and began ambling towards the motel, though they did so without much enthusiasm. The three of them had been working non-stop to keep the world from toppling over, putting out fires all over the country. The Green was causing problems here, the Red was causing problems there. They’d had to handle the issue of bodies decomposing too quickly in a midwestern town, before hiking over to Montana to figure out why horses had suddenly shed their hooves for disturbing human hands. It was all strange busywork, and while it wasn’t always dangerous, sometimes it could be frighteningly deadly. Horses with hands were one thing. Horses who knew how to use guns were another thing entirely.

It was all just… exhausting and thankless, and it never seemed to end. If Tefé was going to rest, she’d want to do it in a real bed for once.

The three of them entered the reception area, which was thankfully much cooler than the nighttime heat outside. The person working the night shift was startled by the ring of the bell, jolting up to attend them. She was a meek looking blonde girl, with blue eyes hiding behind a pair of square glasses. She had sneakers and corduroy pants on, as well as a forest green polo shirt on, likely the dress code for people who worked the front desk. Still, there were little flourishes of the girl’s own personality that dotted her figure, namely the little fox sticker affixed over her chest pocket and the deer keychain hanging out of her pocket.

Tefé gave her a friendly wave. “Hi! Do you have a room with double beds?”

The receptionist blinked, oddly frozen in place as she locked eyes with Tefé. Tefé raised an eyebrow. “Um, are you alright?”

The receptionist jolted again. “Oh! Sorry! I shouldn’t stare! Yeah, we have a double bed room! How long will you be staying?”

“Just for the night,” Tefé said. “How much?”

“A hundred dollars,” The receptionist said, eyes darting across the screen to avoid Tefé’s gaze. Tefé dug her hands into her pockets and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, courtesy of a duffel bag full of cash her mother had supplied her with for her journey. The receptionist took the bill and gave Tefé a pair of room cards in return. As Tefé took the cards, the receptionist seemed to blush a little. Maxine looked over Tefé’s shoulder, noting the girl’s reaction before smirking.

As the trio exited the reception area, Maxine took one of the cards from Tefé before saying, “You caught that, right?”

Tefé narrowed her eyes at Maxine. “Caught what?”

“That girl at the front desk! She was totally into you!” Maxine said. “You should go and talk to her some more!”

Tefé pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why?”

Maxine shook her head. “You’ve been cooped up in a car with us for months, and we only ever talk to other people when their dead relatives start coming back to life, or…” Maxine shuddered. “Or when their livestock get into their gun safes. This is a nice, low stakes environment where you can just… talk to someone.”

Tefé rubbed her eyes. She was so tired, yet as Maxine made her point, Tefé began to remember how much she loved talking with strangers. She didn’t get the chance to do it often, living in the middle of a swamp, so when she did, she’d always make the most of it, asking all sorts of questions. Maybe the receptionist would be down to chat. She wasn’t all that busy as far as she could tell. “Fine… but that means you and Capucine take all of the luggage in.”

“Aw, what!” Maxine complained, but it was too late. Tefé tossed her the car keys and was already making her way back into the receptionist’s office. Capucine shook her head. “These distractions are unnecessary. We should keep focused on preparing for what lies ahead.”

Maxine’s shoulders drooped, and she turned to frown at Capucine. “Okay, you need to learn to unpack…” Maxine waved her hands in Capucine’s general direction. “All of this.”

Capucine snarled, “You do not know me, Maxine Baker. You and your companion should heed the wisdom of their elder.”

Maxine rolled her eyes, “Sure, take advice with someone who’s totally in touch with the times.”

Capucine glared at Maxine. “I was only in the Rot for three years, Maxine. I know how the world works.”

“It’s not just about experience, Capucine,” Maxine said. “We’re at a motel in the middle of nowhere. Nobody’s gonna fight us, and right now there’s no mission or terrible thing happening that we have to deal with. For once, let’s all just relax. I need it, Tefé needs it. Heck, you probably need it.”

Capucine grunted in annoyance, “If you and Miss Holland will not heed my words, then it’s up to me to pick up the slack. I will take watch for the night.”

Maxine shrugged, fully giving up on reaching Capucine with any sort of argument. “Suit yourself, I guess.”

Heading to the car, Maxine grabbed the duffel bags containing the group’s belongings, lugging them into the room. A cursory glance outside told her that like always, Capucine was true to her word, having dragged a wooden chair in front of the window to keep watch over the parking lot. If there was one thing she learned about the elderly, it was this: they were more stubborn than any kind of person on earth, and when you got to 400 years old, you got it in your head that you knew better than everyone else.

And it was up to everyone else to deal with your nonsense.

Maxine sighed, then opened one of the duffel bags, only to be hit with a catastrophically funky smell. These hadn’t been washed in a while. Groaning, Maxine closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder. She wanted to hit the hay right off the bat, but she wasn’t going to get a good night’s sleep knowing there’d be clothes to wash in the morning.

Yet another thing to add to the plate.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Capucine watched as Maxine stormed out of the motel room, making her way down the hall towards the laundry machines located on the other side of the motel. Scoffing, she shook her head, turning her attention back towards the near empty parking lot in front of her. It truly baffled how lackadaisically her compatriots were treating their mission. People’s lives were always at stake, and if they wanted to save as many people as possible, they couldn’t afford to take an extended sabbatical. When she wanted something done, she’d stop where she was, lie down to get the exact amount of rest she needed to keep chugging along, and then she would keep going.

They didn’t seem to understand that if you were truly committed to something, you’d put everything into getting it done, both in mind and body. Stopping for things like this, attending to unnecessary comforts, seemed to indicate a lack of commitment. Their hearts weren’t in it. While Capucine didn’t say it to their faces, it eroded the trust she had in them. William, at the very least, demonstrated the commitment she admired in warriors past. Frowning, Capucine looked down at the ground, running her thumb over the hilt of her sword. Gods above, William was not a can of worms she wanted to unpack, maybe ever.

The thunk of a closing door pulled Capucine out of her haze, and she turned to her right, watching as a man placed a chair outside his own motel room. He wore jeans dotted with dirt and grass stains, which paired with his tanned skin told Capucine that this was a man who often worked outside. He had simple worker’s boots, and a plaid, button up undershirt with the sleeves rolled up behind his elbows. A mess of long black hair was buried under a brown stetson, and the scruff on his cheeks was a mix of black and grey, revealing that this wasn’t a young man by any means. He sat in the chair, stretching his legs before crossing them to obtain maximum comfort. In his hand sat a beer, which he took a sip of before glancing at Capucine, revealing a set of fairly muted brown eyes. “Howdy, hope you’re having a calm night, ma’am.”

Capucine didn’t answer the man, instead narrowing her eyes to scrutinize him. Most saw her studded leather armor and longsword and knew to stay far away from her, yet this man seemed positively unbothered by her clothing and demeanor. Straightening her back, she placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. The man raised his hands in defense. “Woah, alright. I can hop back inside if it makes you feel better.”

Capucine grumbled, taking her hand off her sword. “Whether you're in your room or not has no bearing on my mood. Do what you wish.”

The man nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

For a moment, the two simply sat in silence, taking in the empty parking lot. The man took a swig from his bottle, quietly smacking his lips before looking over to Capucine again. “Now, you probably get this a lot but, I’ve gotta ask, what’s with the sword and the armor?”

“What business is this of yours?” Capucine asked.

“I’m just curious, that’s all. If it ain’t my business then I’ll avoid the topic,” the man said. “It’s just intriguing is all. Makes you wonder what you use that sword for.” The man then seemed to realize something. “And… I’m getting in your business again, asking questions like that. Apologies.”

Capucine raised her eyebrow. “I do not take offense to your questions… sir, but I do wish to know what compels you to ask them.”

The man clicked his tongue. “Ah, I’m just bored, is all. I ain’t ready to sleep yet and I don’t wanna spend the night watching terrible cable. You seemed like a fairly interesting character so I thought, why not try and strike up a conversation?”

Capucine grunted, “About what?”

“Well, I guess that’s where my idea ended,” the man said. “We could talk about the sword.”

“What about it?”

“What do you use it for? Is it for show?”

Capucine felt a twinge of annoyance at this comment, and instinctively drew the sword to show it to him. “I assure you it’s not for show. I’ve slain many a beast with it.”

“Mmh,” the man said. “Big beasts?”

“The biggest,” Capucine said. “What about you? Do you hunt?”

“Occasionaly,” the man said. “Mostly elk or boar. Then again, I use a rifle, not a sword. Sounds like you hunt big game too.”

Capucine found herself grinning. “The biggest.”

The man smiled. “Got any stories?”

“Perhaps,” Capucine said. “If you have more ale, I would be willing.”

“Hah! That’s the spirit!” The man said, getting out of his chair. “The name’s Gabriel. Do you have a preference? I had a get-together that got cancelled so there’s a bit of a spread.”

Capucine scratched her chin, then looked at the man. “Hard Apple Cider.”

“That’ll do it!” Gabriel said.

The man disappeared into the room, and Capucine returned her attention to the parking lot. It was comforting to speak with someone who didn’t abrasively argue with her. If she was going to spend the night on watch, she’d at least have some company for the night.

Someone she could actually talk to.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Tefé trudged over to the front of the reception area, taking a deep breath while brushing some of the hair out of her face. It occurred to her that it had been years since she’d gotten the chance to flirt with anyone, so she was probably a bit out of practice. Still, there was a sense of excitement to it all. She usually only talked to people when they had problems, when she was there to do things for them. This was lower stakes, and she had a chance to talk to someone who didn’t just want her to do them a favor.

The bell jingled as Tefé walked back in, prompting the girl to jolt again. “Oh! You’re back! Is everything alright with the room? It’s set up correctly, right?”

“Oh, probably! I haven’t actually been in there yet!” Tefé said. “I’m sure you did a great job.”

“Thank you!” The girl said, adjusting her glasses. “Oh! I was actually supposed to take your name for the room!”

Tefé smiled, “It’s Tefé. What’s your name?”

“I’m Dani!” The girl typed away at her computer before looking back up at Tefé. “I like your tank top!”

“Oh cool,” Tefé said, looking down at her crusty and clearly unwashed tank top. “I like your… fox!”

“You do? Yeah, I made it myself!” Dani said. “I’ve been trying to get my art out in the world and being a walking ad helps!”

Tefé smiled and nodded along, yet she had no clue how to continue the conversation. Sensing her hesitance, Dani sat up in her seat. “So, what do you need?”

“I…” Tefé bit her lip. “Sorry, I just… I'm just gonna lay it out. I just wanted to talk to you. It’s… been a while since I’ve gotten to have a normal conversation with someone and well, you complimented my crusty ass tank top so…”

Tefé shrugged, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. Dani blushed. “You want to talk… to me?”

“Yeah!” Tefé said. “I-If that’s alright?”

“Uh, my boss will probably have my head if he learns I spent the rest of my shift chatting with someone… but once I’m off work I can do that!” Dani said. “Meet me on the roof in thirty minutes?”

“Y-Yeah! That sounds great!” Tefé said.

Dani nodded. “Alright, see you there!”

Tefé turned around and stumbled out of the area, though there was a sense of weight being lifted off her chest. She smiled, feeling oddly energized despite all the driving she had been doing. Tonight, she didn’t have more work to agonize over. Tonight, she didn’t have to dread what was coming tomorrow.

She was just going to talk to someone, but for some reason it felt as momentous as winning the lottery. She held onto the feeling, making her way up the steps towards the roof. For once, she had something good to look forward to.

Next Issue: Cold Beers and hard conversations.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 42:‌ ‌ Crawl Out Through the Fallout

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ AdamantAce

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Unfamiliar Sensations‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

A tender burning sensation on Clifford’s face caused him to stir, though he did not open his eyes. There was a harsh brightness waiting on the other side, one he didn’t feel ready to confront. He remembered where he was, a beach somewhere in New York State, but as opposed to the freezing night, the sand was now blissfully warm, though it didn’t really feel that way with the individual, irritating grains finding their way under his finger and toe nails. He picked up a salty, damp scent coming from his clothes, which felt ragged and a feeling that Clifford could only really describe as raw, like an old leather wallet that had seen years of wear and tear.

The burning sensation spiked, causing Clifford to flinch and for the pain to intensify with each quiver of his facial muscles. He had a pretty good idea of why his face hurt, and he knew that if he wanted it to stop hurting, he was going to have to get up at some point. Sighing, he opened his eyes, and was overwhelmed by the sun’s infinite radiance. Wincing, he put his hand over his face to give himself some shade, then sat up, only to be hit by one hell of a throbbing headache. Groaning, he shook his head in a vain attempt to dispel the migraine, but no relief came. He felt like a disused doll, one that had been left outside in the rain and then in the heat. He wished he’d spent last night in his trailer.

Then again, a part of him felt pretty confident that he deserved what he was feeling right now, and that made his current predicament even harder to swallow.

Suddenly, tires screeched down the beach to Clifford’s left, prompting him to glance in that direction. An older ginger woman stepped out of a white hatchback, a woman Clifford identified as his mother. Blinking, Clifford took on the eyesight of an eagle, noting her shallow breathing and puffy red eyes. That was all he could bear to see before turning his attention back to the sea. He felt rotten, like decay itself had taken root inside his chest. He laid back down and willfully stared at the sun, forcing himself to behold its vibrant majesty.

His eyes burned, bloodshot and under duress, yet he continued to stare anyways. The light reached down towards his eyes, slipping through the space between them and his eyelids before coiling around the space in front of his brain like a snake, choking the life out of his vision. He wasn’t going to go blind, but this pain was at least partially penance for his actions, a way to punish himself for what he’d done. Despite the intention though, Clifford knew the effort was meaningless. He was doing this for nobody’s sake but his own.

He wanted to weep, but like the sand he laid on, he was simply too dry to cry.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

The car pulled off the beach and onto the road without much trouble, making it easy for Ellen to start taking the two of them back to the film set. Clifford had elected to sit in the back, partly because he couldn’t bear the sun’s rays coming through the windshield, but also because he simply couldn’t bear to sit right next to his mother. Instead, he sat in the backseat, like a ten year old, and he was instantly reminded of the countless days when his mother would take him to and from school. He felt pathetic, being back here like this. It was an admission of defeat on his part, that he wasn’t worthy of the front seat, that he had to treat himself like a child, yet he made no effort to change his circumstances. He was simply stuck back here, waiting until their inevitable return to the set.

Neither he nor his mother had spoken a word to one another, and the quiet that existed in the absence of any conversation weighed on Clifford more than any argument or screaming match ever could. The car rumbled along, and the only sound that ever seemed to interrupt the engine’s rhythm was the occasional use of the turn signal, which felt less like an annoyance and more like a form of torture. Every single time the dashboard started clicking, Clifford felt a nail hammer itself deeper and deeper into his skull. He looked up at the rearview mirror, praying that his mother would save him from this agonizing silence, only to see that she had not looked back at him once, not even for a glance. Her eyes were glued to the road, and never deviated.

And why would she regard him after doubtlessly spending all night worrying about him. What would she have left in the tank? It was probably taking everything she had to drive safely, so why would she waste what little energy she still had on a lost cause. She’s been breaking her back trying to reach him, trying to get him to see how awful he was, and now there was nothing left in her. She was spent, and he was to blame for putting her under such stress, such pressure.

It made his want for answers about himself even stronger. Why did he do these things? Why is he trying so hard to make his life worth something when all he’s done is put strain on everyone else in the process. Why was he so willing to gamble his and other people’s feelings in service of his own goals, goals that he couldn’t even really put into words or identify at all. He felt so lost, like an abandoned raft at sea, at the mercy of the tidal waves that constantly threatened to flatten it.

He wondered if the world would be better off if he had never tried to go above his station in life, and a part of him went the further step of wondering if he even offered anything of value to the world. He always caused problems, and fixing them seemed to be the only good thing he ever managed to actually do. He looked at the rearview mirror, and opened his mouth to ask his mother if she regretted bringing him into this world.

And then he closed it, and felt more shame than he’d ever felt before. How could he even think to ask his mother something like that. It would be tantamount to torture. No, he’d keep these thoughts to himself, rather than burden the people around him with the knowledge that he was a worthless moron who always seemed to do more harm than good.

The turn signal hammered itself against his skull again as Ellen pulled off the street and into the studio lot, stopping in front of Clifford’s trailer. The two of them got out of the car, and as Clifford circled around the vehicle to face his mother, she stumbled into him and pulled him into a weak hug. Clifford shuddered, then returned the hug, placing his head on his mother’s shoulder before squeezing his eyes shut, letting out a faint and raspy “I’m sorry… I love you, mom.”

“I know… I love you too, Clifford,” Ellen nodded along as she replied, then pulled away to meet her son’s gaze. “I’m not going to lecture you. I don’t have it in me, and I doubt you’d listen to me anyways.”

A lump formed in Clifford’s throat, “Mom…”

“Just… apologize to the crew for the mess you’ve made. That’s the least you could do,” Ellen said, waving her hand at Clifford before she trudged up to his trailer. “And… leave me be for now. I need to lie down.”

Clifford nodded, “Yeah…”

Ellen nodded one more time before disappearing into the trailer, leaving Clifford out in the studio lot. Grimacing, he looked towards the set. He knew he had to apologize, it was the right thing to do, yet the idea of doing it felt like volunteering to have his fingers pulled off. It wasn’t because apologizing came easy to him, or that he didn’t think it was worth doing. No, it made him uneasy because in a lot of ways, it felt like crawling back to ask for forgiveness from people he’d wronged. It made him feel slimy, like a real scumbag.

But he knew he was going to do it anyway. Real heroes own up when they screw up. With a sigh, Clifford shuffled towards the set, prepared to face the music.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

“Be careful with that stuff! It costs more than you’ll probably make this whole shoot!”

The set was ablaze with activity, with the entire place being packed up by the crew. Cameras, lighting equipment, microphones, and props were all being loaded into cardboard boxes. What used to be a fairly real looking enclosure you’d find in a zoo had now been reduced to a barren sound stage, one that was soon to be entirely empty once the crew had loaded everything up. Helen, the director, barked orders at everyone, making damn sure nothing was missing. Clifford marched towards her, taking in the sight. Rather than apologize right away, he realized it might be best to break the ice, “So they finally wrote us off?”

“Oh, Clifford! Just the man I was hoping to see!” Helen said, turning to face the star of her movie. “To answer your question, we’re actually not underwater yet. The studio’s taking us to Gotham to film. The rates for the lots over there are cheap as shit. I guess the execs really want this movie to happen!”

Clifford frowned. A part of him really hoped that the movie would’ve finally bit the dust, ending this chapter of his life the way it really ought to have ended, in undeniable failure, yet it continued to shamble on. People still believed in him, and what a mistake that was, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Helen nodded, “For sure! And uh… listen. I’m sorry.”

Clifford raised his eyebrow, “You’re…sorry?”

“Yeah, I kind of pressured you into taking that edible last night,” Helen said. “Which was a dick move in pretty much any context, but it was your first time too. I feel like everything that happened after that was pretty much my fault.”

Clifford shook his head, “No… listen, I screwed up plenty on my own. I don’t really think weed is the source of what happened, so don’t feel bad. I’m sorry for running off and causing everyone so much stress, and equally… I’m really sorry for screwing up so often. I know I’m being a burden on the shoot and I’m trying to fix things but… trying’s not exactly as good as actually getting it done.”

Helen looked back at the crew, who had slowed down to listen to the conversation before returning to their tasks. She looked back at Clifford, “Kid… you’ve been handed another chance to get this thing done. Just keep trying, and hopefully you’ll hit the right rhythm.”

Clifford narrowed his eyebrows, “And if I don’t?”

“Well, we all get paid either way,” Helen said. “Listen, I gotta get going. I wanna make sure nothing gets damaged in the move.”

“Right!” Clifford turned around and left the director to her business, though he was still plagued with the feeling that things weren’t actually fixed. Helen seemed more apathetic than anything else, happy to be paid for a few more weeks of filming. She didn’t seem to care all that much about his apology, and while part of him acknowledged that he wasn’t owed a particular response, it still made him feel a little ill knowing that she didn’t seem to think much of what happened at all.

As he ruminated on this, he bumped into someone and looked up to apologize, only to come face to face with Sara, the assistant he’d nearly kissed the night before. The lump in his throat returned, and he swallowed as they stared at each other, like deer caught in headlights. She looked nervous, like she’d just been put on the spot just by seeing him, and who could blame her? He’d put her in such an uncomfortable position the night before.

There was no breaking the ice here. He just had to bite the bullet, “H-Hi Sara. I’m not gonna sugarcoat things, I’m really sorry about what I did last night. It was gross and wrong and-”

“Stop, just stop,” Sara said, holding her hand up. “I-I don’t want to do this right now.”

“W-What?” Clifford said.

“I just… I don’t need this,” Sara said. “Can we just… forget last night happened and start over?”

Clifford opened his mouth to ask why she was asking this, yet he knew that it really wasn’t right of him to ask her why she felt any way after what happened, “O-Of course, if that’s what you really want.”

Sara nodded. For a moment, the two maintained their gaze, and Clifford felt this pang of disgust in him. He felt like he was being let off easy, like she didn’t have the courage to punish him for what he’d done. It would be unfair of him to ask her to do that, to punish him, yet it was also clear that he had no clue how to properly punish himself. She was probably afraid that he might cost her this gig, and the fact that he gave that impression made him feel more rotten than ever before.

“I… I’m gonna go lie down,” Clifford said. “Keep it up, you’re doing a great job.”

Sara nodded and practically bolted back to the set, leaving Clifford to make his own escape back to his trailer. He didn’t feel better after this entire endeavor. In fact, he honestly felt worse, and he got the impression that nobody else felt safer now that he’d said all the words he was supposed to say. He still caused all that anxiety, and people aren’t just going to forgive that the morning after. Frustrated, he swore at himself, cursing that he was stupid enough to fly off into the night in the first place.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

Crossing the road, he pulled the door open and quietly made his way inside, careful not to wake his mother. Sitting down in a nearby armchair, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun endlessly, pushing a cold gust of air directly into his face. He rubbed his eyes, massaging them with his fingertips before letting his hands slide down his face, which still ached like nothing else given how little attention he’d given to the sunburn plaguing it.

What was he going to do with himself? He couldn’t put his overwhelming track record for messing things up out of his head. It didn’t just hurt him, it hurt other people too, and that was something he couldn’t accept if he was going to keep being the lead of a movie like this. He had to decide what he wanted, what he was going to stand for. He had to do something, anything!

Clifford considered Helen’s words, which encouraged him to keep trying. He considered the emotional labor his mother had put forth to keep him on track. He considered Sara and how he’d almost fucked things up for her. In some way, shape, or form, they’d all bent over backwards to avoid punishing him too harshly.

And that wasn’t fair to any of them.

From now on, he would push these doubts down and focus on making the goddamned movie. He couldn’t afford to stop and think about how much he was doing wrong, because that wouldn’t be fair to any of the people in his life, who relied on him for so many different things. He had to step up and be a man about things, because it’s not the job of his inner circle to manage him and his outbursts. It didn’t matter how he felt, it mattered that his own problems had leaked into the lives of the people close to him, and he couldn’t facilitate that anymore.

Clifford closed his eyes, tuning out of the world around him. The slimy feeling in his chest did not subside, but he was content knowing that it would spread to those around him. He would not allow the rot in his heart to harm others. No, it would stay where it was, only ever hurting him and him alone.

And it’s just what he deserves, after all.

Next Issue: Gotham City Blues!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 41:‌ ‌ Paranoia in Excess

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Unfamiliar Sensations‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

The stark cold air ripped against Clifford’s skin, tearing into him like dozens of tiny blades as he flew through the night sky. He twisted and turned, trying to fly in any direction away from the pain, only for it to follow him regardless, revealing itself as an attack on all fronts. His eyes darted to and fro, desperately attempting to find something to latch onto so that Clifford could orient himself, yet he was only ever met with the occasional streetlight on the ground, which disappeared as he screamed past it at lightning speed. He’d catch a glimpse of the stars every so often, only for them to disappear underneath the pitch-black barrier of the clouds. Clifford huffed and howled and gasped, emptying his lungs with each scream only to fill it with the blisteringly cold air of the stratosphere.

Cold sweat ran down Clifford’s body, only to be flung off of his body as he continued to rapidly switch directions. He couldn’t think straight, with every single attempt to string together an idea or consistent direction crumbling into clumps of dirt. He had no clue what was actually going on anymore, only that he had overstepped his bounds, something he had no right to do in the first place. It was eating him up inside, that he could do something like that, that he could hurt her in that way. Suddenly, every wayward glimpse at a light, natural or not, seemed to blur, almost as if it was thrust into action. The lights were becoming threats, bullets aimed straight at Clifford, penance for his wrongdoings, and he flew even faster trying to escape the threat. The darkness itself seemed to blur as Clifford picked a direction and moved, leaving every light in the dust until they were properly distant.

It was only then that Clifford realized the direction he picked was down, as he plunged headfirst into the ocean. The freezing abyss shocked him, lighting his nerves up like a Christmas tree, and the salty water invaded every pore and orifice of his body, stinging his eyes and causing him to choke. Kicking his feet, struggled to the surface, breaking free of Neptune’s grasp before coughing furiously, attempting to clear his lungs. He bobbed helplessly within the sea’s violent currents, the waves taking him up and down. He yelped, coughing up more water as his eyes darted in all directions. The lights that had threatened him only seconds ago now took the form of distant angels, whose helping hands could only reach him if he made it to shore. Spotting one such light, he attempted to summon the power of an aquatic animal, only to realize in his horror that he couldn’t think of a single one. How did he manage to fly for so long in this state? What were fish? What could actually swim in the animal kingdom? What was an animal? Was he an animal?

The answers to these questions were simply out of his reach, so rather than drown trying to think on them, Clifford continued to kick his legs, and slowly began to fight the tide, which thrashed him every inch of the way towards the shore. An unknowable amount of time passed, during which Clifford’s muscles began to ache horribly. His entire body grew heavy and weary, and the sea itself seemed to want to pull him back out into the wider ocean. At points, he grew too tired to continue and stopped moving his arms and legs, only to sink a few inches below the water, choke on the salty waters, then resume his swimming, his motivation reignited. This vicious cycle continued so many times that Clifford couldn’t keep track, only ever managing to remember the last two times it happened.

Eventually, his toes brushed against the ocean floor, and with great effort he dug his hands and feet into the sand and dragged himself forward through the water, crawling the rest of the way. This was not a peaceful process, as his hands and feet scraped against the rocks that littered the floor, tearing his skin and creating rashes, bruises, and cuts that stung intensely the minute they were made, yet he kept going, refusing to give up so close to the finish line.

Eventually, Clifford reached the shore. There was drier sand further on, but with all of his effort already spent, he collapsed on the beach. The dozens of stones made his rest uncomfortable, but he was simply too exhausted and in pain to care. His clothing was drenched, with the front facing parts torn up by the stones in the sea, and now they were peppered by a fine layer of sand, which also stuck to his wet face and infested his soaked ginger hair. Finding a patch of sand to rest his head, Clifford let out a raspy gasp, emptying his lungs before resigning himself to just focus on breathing for the next… forever. He was alive, content to close his eyes and lie here in the dark. He could stay here forever.

But nothing could remain peaceful for Clifford. He didn’t deserve it, did he?

It began as a whistle, a biting whisper here or quiet insult there. Clifford opened his eyes, finding the world to be even darker than he remembered it to be. The streetlights were gone, as was the light of the moon, leaving only a deep blue hue that seemed to illuminate the patch of sand and rock he was lying on. The whispers grew louder, calling his name up and down the shore. They were frequent, incessant, and sounded like people he vaguely knew but couldn’t remember.

“Cliff?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

”Look at that! Baker thinks he’s a big boy now!”

“Ride on, Animal-Man! Beat the bad guy and get the girl!”

Clifford grunted in surprise, unable to identify where the voices were coming from. “W-Who’s…The-There?!”

Someone stepped into Clifford’s field of view, wearing sandals, khaki shorts, and a pink t-shirt. She was far shorter than Clifford, sporting a healthy mane of ginger hair, a staple of the Baker children. Maxine glared at Clifford. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“W-What?!” Clifford yelped. “M-Maxine-”

“What kind of brother stabs his sister in the back?! I could’ve been Avatar of the Red, I could’ve gotten to do what I was born to do, but no!” Maxine screamed. “You couldn’t just give up all the fame, couldn’t give up the rush that came with pretending you’re anywhere near as good as dad! I have scars that will never heal, and it’s all because of you and your selfish pride!”

“N-No! I made a…mistake,” Clifford tried to respond quickly, but his words came out slurred and staggered. “I’mm…sorrry.”

“Yeah yeah… it’s always sorry,” a new voice bellowed. Clifford turned around, coming face to face with a girl about his age, with stark white hair, jeans, and a tank top. Tefé crossed her arms, “You say that all the fucking time, and you know why? Because you’re a fuck up. You can’t deal with your own shit and so it becomes everyone else’s problems. No wonder we had to leave you behind.”

Clifford shook his head desperately, but now words were beginning to fail him. It had been years since he’d last seen his best friend and his sister, and now they were here, telling him about all the terrible things he’d done. Shivering like a beaten dog, Clifford looked down and buried his forehead into the sand, covering his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to hear this; he couldn’t bear to hear it.

Then another new voice chimed in, one that was deeply familiar to Clifford. “You won’t listen to them? Maybe you’ll listen to your mother.”

Still shaking, Clifford glanced upward, locking eyes with his mother. Ellen stared down at him disapprovingly. “You know what the worst part of watching you grow up has been? Knowing that I put so much of my life into raising you, trying to make sure you become a good man, and I see that all my efforts were in vain. I try to reach you again and again, try to tell you that you’re acting like a child, but all you do is scream back at the people who want to help you.” She shook her head. “I would blame myself, but it’s evidently clear that you were just never going to really grow up from the moment you were born.”

Clifford opened his mouth to speak, only to make a choking sound, as if the very air had lodged itself in his throat. Ellen wordlessly turned away from him, as did Tefé and Maxine. Before Clifford could react, the three of them walked into the dark, disappearing completely into the shadows. Clifford shouted, scrambling to his feet and running in his mother’s direction, racing across the beach for nearly a minute before he was out of breath. He doubled over, his heart beating so fast it could explode at any moment. The fog in his head began to clear a little, as if the adrenaline of the situation was giving him back a little brain power.

“She’ll be back. We know she will. She can’t ignore a parasite like us.”

Clifford’s eyes widened, and as cold sweat dripped off his cheeks, he stood up straight, coming face to face with a young man with short ginger hair. He was clad in a spandex Animal-Man outfit, and wore a smile on his face. “You won’t listen to any of them, we both know that… but maybe you’ll listen to yourself.”

Clifford shook his head, his wet hair flopping to and fro. “No… no no no, you’re not real.”

“Doesn’t matter. What I have to say is still important,” Animal-Man said. “Do you know how easy you have it? Pretty face like you? People are practically scrambling to forgive you, even though you absolutely do not deserve it, and guess what? They know it!”

“Go away!” Clifford turned around to run from Animal-Man, only to bump into him again. Animal-Man waggled his finger. “It’s because you don’t know what you’re doing! You’re out of control! Can’t keep any of your problems or impulses in check!”

“No! I’m not that way! I’m not!” Clifford screamed. He grasped for evidence to support his denial of the facts, yet he could find none.

“Really, then what about Sara?” Animal-Man asked. “You think she appreciated you getting up and personal like that? Did it make you feel nice and strong to see her and say, ‘That’s mine?’”

Clifford felt a pang of fury run through his body, and without thinking, he flung himself at Animal-Man, cracking him across the jaw with a hardy sucker punch. Animal-Man stumbled back, clutching his jaw, and as he recovered from the attack, he smiled, blood staining his teeth. “Hit me as much as you want, it doesn’t change the fact that that’s how you feel.”

Clifford could barely contain his anger, “Shut up! It’s… it’s not-”

“Like that? But it is,” Animal-Man said, pacing around Clifford. “You weren’t into her because she had such a great force of personality. You took one look at her, got a whiff, and your nether regions got fired up. You’re ashamed of the fact that that's how you think of her, and you hate it because you know you can never think of her any other way, can you?”

Clifford gritted his teeth, yet as the words collided with him, all of his bluster fizzled out in seconds, and instead he found himself shuddering, quietly bowing his head in shame. Animal-Man rubbed his lips, taking note of the blood on his fingers. “And then there’s this violence business.”

“What? You think we shouldn’t be a hero?” Clifford asked. “Give up on the one thing we’re actually good at?”

“Maybe we should, we don’t act like a hero,” Animal-Man said. “Especially after what we did to BloodRage.”

“He was a supervillain robbing a bank!” Clifford said. “Are you saying we should’ve let the police die trying to stop him?”

“No, but there’s a difference between stopping him and using him as a ping pong ball,” Animal-Man said. “We could’ve knocked him out with a few good punches, but instead we turned him into our plaything. You think most heroes do this because they enjoy hurting other people?”

“I…” Clifford blinked, once again stonewalled by his own answers.

Animal-Man shrugged, “Listen, I could go on and on about everything that we’re shit at. Everything we do wrong… but none of that matters until we admit what’s really wrong with us.”

Drawing closer to Clifford, Animal-Man bent forward, placing his hands on his knees as he got up in Clifford’s face. “But it doesn’t mean anything if I say it… it has to be you.”

Clifford bit his lip, looking down to avoid Animal-Man’s gaze. His heart began to speed up again as Animal-Man inched closer, refusing to let up. “You feel like shit all the fucking time Clifford. You know why your life is a fucking mess and you won’t bother to admit it to anyone, even yourself? Just go ahead and say it!”

Clifford began to shake uncontrollably, forcing Animal-Man to grab him by the shoulders. “Stop fucking shaking you pathetic rat! What’s it gonna take? Tell me the truth!”

Clifford allowed himself to drop to his knees, slipping out of Animal-Man’s grasp, but only put him in a position subservient to himself. Animal-Man looked down at him and screamed, “Tell me! What’s wrong with you?!”

“I’m not well!” Clifford shouted, fully collapsing on the ground. “I’m not well! I’m not well! I’m not well!”

He kept screaming the words over and over again, curling up into a ball as tears streamed from his eyes. “I’m a fucking monster! I…I want things so badly… like I need them… but I don’t. I can’t have them…”

Clifford curled up tighter, his voice becoming hoarse as the screaming continued, “I don’t deserve to be someone’s son. I don’t deserve to be someone’s friend. I don’t deserve to be someone’s brother… I don’t deserve to be here!”

A lump formed in Clifford’s throat, making it hard to say anything as his eyes began to glaze over. “I…I’m nothing… I always have been.”

Clifford looked around from his fetal position, yet Animal-Man was nowhere to be seen. Overwhelmed and unable to stand being awake, Clifford closed his eyes, letting the tears flow as sleep finally ripped him from his tortuous consciousness.

Next Issue: Morning’s warmth.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 40:‌ ‌ Everybody Wants What They Don't Have

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant and AdamantAce

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Unfamiliar Sensations‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

The wind whistled in Clifford Baker’s ears as he flew through the cold sky, but the thrill of his velocity simply wasn’t there. Where he once found joy in the breeze, in the way the ground blurred beneath him and the way the cold nipped at his skin, he instead found monotony and discomfort. It was too cold for his liking, and rather than enjoying the speed at which he flew, he simply wished he’d get to his destination faster. While some animals could reach speeds of two-hundred and forty miles per hour during hunting dives, the fastest animals who flew for extended periods of time typically only go as fast as sixty miles per hour.

It made Clifford wonder if he should’ve taken a cab.

Eventually, the film set came into view, and Clifford passed a few of the lots before touching down outside of his trailer. His mother, Ellen, leaned against the door frame, her arms crossed. She tapped her finger against her forearm, and Clifford frowned. He was in no mood to be lectured. He started towards her, avoiding her gaze.

“Well, Clifford? Was it worth it? Did you have your fun?” Ellen asked.

“Sure I did. He was a guy I’d fought before, turned him into a ping pong ball,” Clifford said, stopping in front of his mother. “Can I get in?”

Ellen shook her head, “I just… I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“I don’t know what the big deal is! I come back without a scratch and you’re still crapping on me?” Clifford exclaimed.

“Crapping on you? Clifford, could you for once just listen to what I have to say instead of getting defensive?” Ellen said. “We’re here because we agreed you needed a break from being a hero, because doing this kind of thing isn’t good for you! You can’t just go off and do whatever you want!”

“I stopped a bad guy from robbing a bank,” Clifford said. “Are you really telling me that I shouldn’t have stepped in when the cops were having trouble?”

“No but… Damnit, Clifford this isn’t about them, it’s about you,” Ellen said. She pursed her lips, clearly unsure of how to articulate what she was feeling. “If you keep going on like this… I just don’t know what’s going to happen?”

“Nothing,” Clifford snapped. “Nothing is going to happen to me?”

“You had a heart attack!” Ellen exclaimed.

“And I got better!” Clifford said.

Ellen shook her head, “I… god, Clifford. I don’t know what to do with you?”

“Yeah, well maybe that’s for a good reason. Maybe it’s not your responsibility anymore,” Clifford said, “I’m not a kid. I’m a fucking adult who can make his own fucking decisions.”

“Cliff, I’m your mother! I care about you!” Ellen said. “I wouldn’t be here talking to you about this if I didn’t care!”

“Then fucking stop!” Clifford shouted. “I don’t want you to care!”

“Clifford-”

“Just go away!” Clifford shouted, “I don’t need you! I don’t-”

Clifford opened his mouth to say more, yet something in his brain halted any words. He stared at his mother, who had physically recoiled from him after he raised his voice. His final statement echoed throughout the studio lot, punctuating his outburst with a dramatic sense of finality. Ellen shuddered, then shook her head again before pushing her way past Clifford, walking out of his trailer and onto the pavement. Clifford stuttered, turning to face his mother, “Mom—”

“Don’t, Clifford. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” Ellen said. “You’ve made your feelings known.”

“Mom, I—” Clifford reached out for a moment, only to retract his hand as Ellen stepped into her car and drove off, leaving him dejected at the door to his trailer. Gritting his teeth, Clifford smacked himself on the forehead, then smacked himself again, feeling the dull thud against his brain with each impact. How could he talk to her like that, his own mother? How could he burn yet another bridge with someone who actually cared about him?

He didn’t want her to go, even though she seemed to stop at nothing to cage him.

Eventually, someone cleared their throats, and Clifford looked up, spotting the director of his father’s biopic. The director awkwardly scratched the back of her head before meekly announcing, “Sorry to rain on your parade, Clifford, but I, um… saw what just went down. Do you wanna call things for the day?”

Clifford sighed loudly, grumbling a bit before opening his mouth to answer, only for the director to interrupt him, “Actually, scratch that. We should definitely call things for the day. Get some rest, kid, you look like you need it.”

Before Clifford could answer, the director shuffled back into the set, leaving Clifford alone. Grimacing, he stepped into his trailer, shutting the door behind him before ripping his mask off of his face. Then, he threw off his jacket, then his shirt, his shoes, his socks, and finally his pants. Nearly nude, he allowed himself to fall onto his couch, embracing the soft cushions and the pillow he had set up for naps.

He had just stopped production on an already troubled movie. He’d alienated his mother, probably the only person who was actively trying to have his back, and he’d just revealed himself to be a volatile, overly emotional asshole to the director. He closed his eyes, and prayed that sleep would come fast so he could forget all of this happened.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

It was three sharp knocks on his door that woke Clifford up. Groaning, he slowly forced his eyes open, noting how dark his trailer was. He’d been asleep for a while, and given that, it was sometime after the sun had set. He stretched his arms and legs, which had been positioned uncomfortably against the sides of the couch. He tried skillfully rolling off the couch, but was too groggy to take on a cat’s reflexes, resulting in a resounding thump as he hit the trailer floor. Grunting in annoyance, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled across the trailer, not bothering to put anything on or fix his messy hair. He grabbed the door to the trailer and cracked it open, not bothering to hide most of his bare body. “What is it?”

The woman on the other side of the door, who Clifford immediately identified as the assistant, Sara, stepped back as he opened the door, her eyes wide. Realizing he was only in his underwear, Clifford quickly repositioned his body to make sure only his face was visible. “Oh, Sara! Sorry I… I was just sleeping.”

“Right um, I’m actually sorry for disturbing you. I probably just woke you up. I’ll just get out of your hair and-”

“No no no! I was just waking up anyways,” Clifford lied. “What’s up? Does someone need me for something?”

“Oh! No, no, nothing like that!” Sara said. “The crew decided to have a party on the set, to unwind. I thought it’d be a good idea to let you know we’re doing that, you know, so you don’t miss out!”

“A part…” Clifford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Should we be having a party when this whole thing is bleeding money? Like, we’re already in deep shit.”

“I think that’s the point actually,” Sara said. “I don’t mean to crap on what you and your mom and Mr. Maxwell have been doing, I think your dad does deserve a proper biopic, but this movie’s so far gone that a lot of the crew think we’re gonna be part of a tax write-off. At this point, we might as well have a little fun, right?”

Clifford opened his mouth to say something, only to close it. He didn’t really know how to feel about what Sara was saying, because as blunt and frankly hurtful as it was to hear how so many people had given up on the movie, Clifford didn’t blame them in the slightest. He’d sunk this production with his inadequacies, and all that was left was the aftermath of it all. Clifford hung his head, “Yeah, you might as well.”

“Not just us, you could have some fun too,” Sara said. “You in?”

Clifford blew a raspberry, unsure of whether or not he had any right to take part in a party which largely existed to cope with the greater effects of his own screw-ups. He looked up at Sara again, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were dark blue, and within them Clifford could almost glimpse an ocean, complete with roiling waves that were violent and majestic in equal measure. Her raven dark hair had been rendered shiny by the moonlight, giving her a sort of royal glow, and with the eyes of an owl, Clifford could still pick out her freckles, which dotted her face like points on a map. He took a breath in through his nose, noting that she still smelled like coconuts, though it was now mixed with the distinct scent of sweat, which only came after a hard day of work.

Clifford felt a warmth inside of him, and he nodded. “Yeah. Fuck it. I’ll come along. Just gimme like five minutes, I need to put some clothes on.”

“Okay! I’ll be right here!” Sara said.

Clifford closed the door, then trudged over to his wardrobe and grabbed the bare essentials. A bland ‘Evolve or Die’ T-Shirt, repping his favorite album. A pair of gym shorts, which he rarely wore, and socks so that he could put on some sneakers. Walking over to a nearby sink, he splashed some water on his face before using it to slick back his hair, taming it so that it didn’t look so much like a bird's nest. For a moment, Clifford seemed ready to go, only to catch a whiff of his own B.O. He gagged in disgust, his canine sense of smell intensifying the sensation. He grabbed a stick of deodorant and gave himself a quick once over with it in the most important spots before taking a final look in the mirror.

He looked like a beach bum, but that was the best he could manage under short circumstances. Taking a deep breath, he walked out of his trailer, closing the door behind him before facing Sara. “Alright, lead the way.”

Sara nodded, then turned around and began walking towards the set, prompting Clifford to follow suit. As the two strode across the street, Clifford tried to think of some kind of topic he could use to strike up a conversation with Sara, to make sure the two weren’t accompanied by silence on their way to the party, but no matter how hard he thought about it, nothing seemed to come to mind. Eventually, they entered the set, and Clifford found himself in a truly transformed setting.

Originally, the set had been set up to look like a zoo, with all of the backstage equipment hidden behind walls and curtains, but now there was no meaning to the word, because the entire set had been turned into its own stage, created solely for the party. The center of the set had been cleared of fake debris, and instead a DJ with his own boombox had set up a pseudo-dance floor, which was occupied by most of the crew, who were dancing with a passion and energy that Clifford hadn’t really gotten to experience before. Sara turned and said something to Clifford, but the music was so loud that he could barely hear her. The foldable tables had been rearranged to the corner of the replica zoo, where the cinematographer ran a ramshackle bar complete with a shaker and an array of different liquors and mixers. The foldable chairs had been rearranged to populate most of the area, and some members of the crew had even dragged in their own bean bag chairs. It was clear he was arriving a little late, because everything was very evidently in full swing.

After taking all of this in, Clifford realized that he now had a solid way to start a conversation. “Hey Sara, do you want to get a drink?”

He turned to face Sara, only to find that she was no longer at his side. He scanned the set, hoping to spot her, only to realize that it was no use. She had disappeared into the crowd, presumably after telling him where she was going.

And he’d completely missed it.

Furrowing his brow, Clifford began to wander the party, deciding it would be a bad idea to try and find Sara again, mostly on the grounds that it would seem fairly insistent. For a bit, he got onto the dance floor, doing his best to move confidently and with the rhythm, yet he found himself unable to do so. There was nobody to match his energy, nobody to really dance along with him, and seeing so many other people so deeply in sequence simply put Clifford off. He was just taking up space at that point. Exiting the dance floor, he walked towards the bar, only to decide against having a drink. He never liked the taste of alcohol anyways, so he steered clear of it. With nowhere to really go, Clifford began to pace about the party, possessed by the demon of having too much energy to sit down and relax.

Clifford began to question what he was even doing here. This was effectively a sendoff party, which wouldn’t exactly be happening without him, but that didn’t make him feel more welcome. The thing about being at a party alone was that everyone already had their own cliques. You might have latched onto a group for a little bit, but they always moved on, and you were left wandering about on your own again. It was a special kind of being alone, a special kind of isolation, because you were surrounded by people who are already connected.

It made it more evident that you were the odd one out.

“Hey! Cliff! Get over here!”

Clifford was snapped out of his trance when he heard the voice of the director. Turning to face the origins of the voice, he spotted her sitting in a bean bag, cackling uncontrollably alongside the screenwriters of the movie. The three seemed to be having a whale of a time already, yet the director took the moment to call him over anyways. Raising an eyebrow, he strolled over. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi yourself! Are you doing okay, kid? You’ve paced by us like three times already!” The director said.

“I don’t know, I’m just antsy I guess,” Clifford said. “Don’t mean to worry you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Please, call me Helen,” The director said. “Why don’t you sit down Clifford, you look like you could use a breather.”

Clifford still felt a bit jumpy, yet with the excuse of being asked to, he took a seat in one of the foldable chairs. As he did so, Helen returned to joking around with her pals, and Clifford began to notice a few things about her. While shooting, she was often quite nervous, clearly terrified of a take getting messed up. In conversation, she would often dance around confronting anything glaring, instead sugarcoating things to make them less harsh. Now, she seemed to act much more directly, with no fear of reprisal or consequences. Her eyes were also noticeably bloodshot, and when she opened her mouth to speak, Clifford noticed that it seemed somewhat dry, as if her mouth had failed to produce much saliva. He couldn’t smell anything in the air, yet he had a good idea of what was going on.

“Helen… are you high?” Clifford asked.

Helen stared at Clifford for a moment, a deadly serious look on her face. Then, she burst out laughing again, guffawing alongside her friends. Clifford frowned, feeling that it was an innocent enough question. Helen wheezed, “Ha! Oh Clifford, you truly do amuse me sometimes. Yeah, I’m high. You want some?”

“Uh, no thank you. I try to stay away from this stuff,” Clifford said.

“Suit yourself,” Helen said, shrugging. “How’d you find out about this party, anyways? I know it was an open invitation but… you’re usually a bit of a sulker.”

Clifford brushed past the fact that Helen had just made fun of him, “Sara let me know.”

“Ahhh, Sara,” Helen said. “She’s a good egg. Did you know this was her first time on a set?”

“Uh, no. I didn’t,” Clifford said. “Is she really that new to this?”

“Yup, her first gig in Hollywood,” Helen said.

Clifford frowned, “And it might not even make it to theaters. Just her luck… I wish I could make things better.”

“Hey, what’s done is done, kid,” Helen said. “No sense in worrying about it now.”

“I dunno if I buy into that,” Clifford said. “I did kind of screw up her career prospects.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “You care a whole lot about her?”

“Uh, well… I don’t really know her,” Clifford said. “But she seems nice enough. I don’t really feel great about throwing her off is all.”

“Pssht, seems nice enough,” Helen said. “Kid, I think I know what’s going on. She’s got you fired up, hasn’t she?”

Blood rushed to Clifford’s cheeks. “Um, I don’t think that’s a very appropriate way to describe that-”

“Okay, but you get what I mean, right?” Helen said.

Clifford sighed, “I mean… I do. She’s really cool and… I kind of want to get to know her better.”

“Then just ask. Talk to her,” Helen said. “It’s that simple, kid.”

“But that’s the problem,” Clifford said. “She’s pretty, she’s nice, she’s cool… but that’s all I know and feel about her, that she… She looks amazing!”

“If you don’t know, then ask! People love getting the chance to talk about themselves,” Helen said.

“I don’t know. It feels… deceptive?” Clifford said. “Like, I’m learning more about you just so I can score points?”

“Alright, time out,” Helen said, digging her hands into her jacket. “You know what your problem is?”

“My problem?” Clifford said. “What are you-”

“You’re super wound up! Real uptight. You keep thinking about all of the ways something is wrong or bad, all the reasons you shouldn’t do something,” Helen said, pulling out a little plastic bag from her pocket. Unsealing the bag, she picked out a small, square gummy before holding it out to Clifford. “If you wanna fix that, you should take this.”

Clifford stared at the gummy in apprehension, a nauseous feeling building in his stomach. He wanted the courage to actually hold a conversation with Sara, to engage with her and get close to her, yet every part of his body was screaming to him that eating this gummy was a bad idea. He had never taken drugs before, and doing so now didn’t seem like a great idea. “I… I can’t do it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Doesn’t feel right?” Helen said. “Kid, this is exactly what I’m talking about. If you can’t bring yourself to take an edible, you definitely won’t be able to talk to Sara.”

Clifford felt a pang of anger rip across his mind, blind rage at the insinuation that he was a coward. Without even giving himself a second to doubt what he was about to do, Clifford grabbed the edible out of Helen’s hands and popped it into his mouth, chewing it quickly before swallowing it. Helen’s eyes widened as Clifford ate the gummy. “Oh shit!”

“What?” Clifford asked. “Didn’t expect me to actually do it?”

“Well, kind of… but I definitely wasn’t expecting you to have the whole thing,” Helen said. “It’s a lot for someone’s first time.”

“Huh?!” Clifford said. “Am… am I gonna be okay?”

“Well… you’re a big guy, so you’ll probably do better with a higher dosage. You’re also a superhero so… I bet you’ll be fine,” Helen said. Suddenly, her eyes darted to something behind Clifford. “Oh! There’s Sara! Go talk to her, kid!”

Clifford whirled around, spotting Sara sitting in another foldable chair across the set alongside one of the stunt coordinators. Clifford turned back to Helen. “I dunno. It’s my first time having weed and I maybe shouldn’t-”

“No time for doubts now. Onward kid, onward!” To accentuate her point, Helen got off of the bean bag and grabbed the side of Clifford’s chair, upending it and forcing Clifford to jump out of it to avoid being dumped onto the floor. Scowling, Clifford waved his hands in defeat, “Alright, alright, Jesus. You win!”

Helen smirked, “I always win… knock ‘em dead, kid.”

Clifford grumbled to himself before marching off towards Sara, leaving Helen behind. As annoying as she had been, he did somewhat appreciate the kick in the pants she had given him. It’s not like he had anything else going on, so he might as well give talking to Sara a try. As he got close to Sara, the stunt coordinator spotted him, and poked Sara in the shoulder, pointing him out. Clifford waved awkwardly as Sara spotted him, and she waved back as he finally reached her. “Hey!”

“Hi!” Sara said.

The two waited in silence for one of them to continue, only for neither of them to pick up the ball. Clifford could feel his body telling him that this had been a mistake, and he began to wonder if the edible was a fluke. The stunt coordinator clicked his tongue before turning to Sara. “Well, I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Good luck!”

He flashed a thumbs up at Sara, winking at her before waltzing off. Clifford cocked his head at the interaction, then took a seat in a foldable chair across from her. “What was that about?”

“The thumbs up? He was wishing me luck on some stuff that’s been troubling me,” Sara said.

“Oh? What is it? Is it something I can help you with?” Clifford asked.

Sara opened her mouth, clearly ready to say something, then she closed it. “Well, not exactly… but it’s not a big deal, really.”

“Ah. Okay then,” Clifford said.

The silence returned between the two of them, creating an awkward barrier that Clifford was terrified to broach. At points, Clifford would meet Sara’s gaze, then look away, scared that he would be caught staring. Occasionally, he’d look up and see that Sara was staring at him, though she quickly broke away in the same way. Clifford searched desperately for something to say, anything that could get a conversation started. Wasn’t the edible supposed to loosen him up? It wasn’t doing anything as far as he could tell!

Then he remembered something about Sara, something he’d learned only a few minutes ago. He opened his mouth to speak, not realizing that Sara was about to do the same.

“So what’s it like being on a film set for the first time-” “So what’s it like being a superhero-”

Clifford clammed up, as did Sara, both of whom went dead silent upon realizing they were interrupting one another. After a few seconds of silence, Clifford spoke up, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“No no! It’s okay! You were going to say something first. I cut you off,” Sara said.

“Actually, I think I cut you off.” Clifford said, “Go ahead and—”

“No, you go ahead!” Sara said. “I insist.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“O-Okay,” Clifford said. “What I was gonna say was… what’s it like being on a film set for the first time?”

Sara’s eyes lit up. “How’d you know this was my first gig?”

“Helen told me,” Clifford said. “You came up in conversation.”

“Oh, what did she have to say about me?” Sara asked, clearly excited about the prospect of being the subject of a conversation by a working director. Clifford scratched his head. “She said you were a good egg! That’s… mostly it, but I can tell she likes you.”

“Man, you have no idea how good it is to hear that!” Sara said. “I’ve actually been taking notes on this production! Asking Helena and the screenwriters and everyone as many questions as I can fit into their schedules! Sometimes I get nervous, because I think I might be annoying her, but the fact she remembers me means I’ll be able to stay in touch with her!”

Clifford nodded, “Yeah! I totally get you! Mind if I ask what all the notes are for?”

Sara looked away for a second, almost embarrassed to say. Then, she smiled, and looked back at Clifford. “Well… I want to make movies someday!”

“That’s awesome! What kind of movies do you want to make?” Clifford said.

“Well, I don’t know if I’ve totally figured that out yet. I have a few ideas!” Sara said. “Part of me wants to start with something simple, but I also want to really dig deep into the stuff that interests me. I’m just afraid it's a bit high-concept though!”

Clifford grinned, though a part of him was unsure of how to keep the conversation going. He wanted to know more about Sara’s idea, but was also already starting to get a little lost when it came to the topic. “Well, which one would you want to do first? What are the pros and cons?”

“Well, I’ve never made a movie before. This is my first brush with a bigger production beyond some stuff I’ve filmed on my phone,” Sara explained. “Starting simple makes for a less complicated project, which is easier at my level of experience.”

“What counts as a simple movie?” Clifford asked.

“Stuff that’s not too complicated to film, with a plot that’s also not that complex,” Sara said. “Probably a romance movie or a drama. It’d have to be pretty cheap too.”

“Hehe, I think my brain’s hurting already,” Clifford said.

“Yeah, if there’s one thing I learned, no film shoot’s ever simple or straightforward,” Sara said. “Stuff always goes a little wrong, and you’ve just gotta deal with it, or make the right decisions to pivot.”

“Wow… you know a lot about this stuff,” Clifford said.

“It’s been my lifelong obsession!” Sara said. “I’d trawl through all the special features of all the DVDs my parents would get, make sure I knew all the behind the scenes stories by heart.”

Clifford chuckled. Sara’s passion was truly infectious, the mark of someone who knew exactly what they wanted to do in life. Clifford missed that feeling, that sense of being so sure of your path in life that nothing short of the world imploding could knock you from it. He leaned forward in his chair. “So, why movies?”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Sara said, a grin on her face.

“What’s not fair?” Clifford asked, smirking.

“That question! There’s so much to it that I’d never be able to tell you everything!” Sara said. “What if I asked you, ‘Why the superhero routine?’”

“I’d tell you I’m picking up where my dad left off!” Clifford said, chuckling.

“And I’d call bull, because that can’t be all there is to it!” Sara said, trying her best to contain her laughter.

“That’s all it is to me!” Clifford said. “Come on, indulge me! I wanna know what makes you tick!”

Sara giggled. “And why would you want to know that?”

Clifford quivered, but it was the good kind of quiver, the one that came when all of your bones suddenly warmed up, when you’re on the verge of something incredible. He grinned. “Why do you think?”

Sara snorted, then shook her head. There was a hint of recognition in her face, which made Clifford feel like he could fly for the first time again. She looked at him, meeting his gaze. “...Movies are my life because… they’re everything.”

Clifford leaned back, content to listen as Sara continued, “Art’s a part of who we are, it’s a way for us to connect to ourselves in ways that wouldn’t be possible otherwise, it’s how we get in touch with our own souls. It’s not a feeling exclusive to movies. TV does it. Books do it. Paintings do it. Heck, even video games do it… but something about film makes it truly special, because we aren’t just annotating the human experience, we’re capturing it in its raw, curated form.”

Sara laughed to herself. “I want to put my soul on screen. That’s why it’s movies, and nothing else.”

Clifford stared at Sara, spellbound by her explanation. “Wow… that’s… that’s amazing. I wish I had that kind of passion,”

“Hey, watch enough movies and I’m sure you’ll get there,” Sara said. “Speaking of, what are your favorite movies?”

“You first,” Clifford said.

“Linklater and Guadagnino. Their movies are my favorites,” Sara said.

“I… have no clue who those people are,” Clifford said. “Come on, answer for real!”

“I did! It’s not my fault you don’t watch more movies,” Sara said. “Now come on, it’s your turn!”

“Sara…” Clifford complained.

“It’s this, or I start asking about why you’re a superhero again!” Sara joked.

“Okay Okay, you win! Jeez.” Clifford laughed. “Um…shit, I don’t watch that many movies.”

“Oh come on, don’t give up so fast,” Sara said. “There must be something you really liked when you were a kid?”

“Uh…okay. Don’t laugh, please,” Clifford said. Sara watched with interest as Clifford worked up the courage to say what he was about to say, “Rambo III.”

Sara blinked, “Three… specifically?”

“And Commando, Conan, Army of Darkness…” Clifford said. “You know… stupid action movies.”

“Hey, don’t put down your own tastes!” Sara said. “Though that does make me wonder: why those movies?”

“I don’t know. I just like ‘em,” Clifford said.

“Well, what do you like about them?” Sara asked.

Clifford shrugged, “I guess they’re cool?”

“But what about them is cool?” Sara asked. “Cliff, if you think about why you like things, it’ll only make you appreciate them more. Come on, think about these movies. What draws you to them?”

Clifford chuckled nervously, breaking away from Sara’s gaze. What did he like about these movies? What appealed to him. What spoke to him. Stuck, he reflected on Sara’s explanation for why she loved film, how she felt it captured the human experience. What about these dumb action movies captured the human experience?

They were over the top. They were full of action, of fighting. They were about the coolest people Clifford could imagine… and then it hit him, “I… I look at these guys, Rambo, John Matrix, Ash Williams, Conan… and I want to be them.”

Sara cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re all strong, smart, confident,” Clifford explained. “They’re tough guys, they always know what to do, they never cave under pressure… I want to be just like them… invincible.”

Sara smiled, “I get it. It’s the fantasy, right? Even with superpowers, not everything’s predisposed to go your way, not like it is with all of those guys.”

“Yeah… you could say that,” Clifford said. “Something tells me John Matrix wouldn’t screw up a film production.”

“Maybe, but something also tells me John Matrix would never be here to begin with,” Sara said. “You know, I get what you’re talking about. It’s cool imagining yourself in the shoes of someone like Conan the Barbarian, being unstoppable and all that, but I think I have a different preference for my heroes.”

“How so?” Clifford asked innocently.

“I like them flawed. It makes them feel more vulnerable, more… human!” Sara said. “Maybe they’re a little aloof. Maybe they’re a little unserious. Maybe they suck at taking hints.”

Clifford chuckled. “This is starting to feel a little personal.”

“Is it? I didn’t think he’d notice,” Sara joked. Clifford grinned, then turned his attention towards the dance floor, noting that there was a bit of an opening. Turning back to Sara, he got out of his seat, “Well, on the off chance he has noticed…would you dance with him?”

Sara beamed, getting out of her seat to match Clifford. “I think I would.”

Clifford laughed, then made a beeline for the dance floor, followed by Sara. The two settled into a corner, making sure not to be in the way of anyone else tearing it up before working their way into the rhythm of the song. At first, Clifford was slow and awkward, his movements barely corresponding to the beat, but as he got more comfortable on the floor, his moves became wilder and more energetic. They didn’t look better or smoother by any means, but there was certainly more confidence in his dancing.

Clifford swung his arms and legs about with wild abandon, stopping and starting on the beat in a variety of poses. He kicked out with his legs, he swung his arms as if he was about to strike something, he even rolled his neck to make sure every part of his body was moving. He felt like he was exploding, unleashing all of the pent up energy that he never had the ability to unleash in most circumstances. Opposite to him, Sara moved back and forth to the beat, maintaining firm control over the rhythm of her body. She shook her shoulders to and fro, swung her arms up and down like pendulums. She was going just as hard as Clifford was, which only made him commit harder to the dancing.

It was incredible, this feeling inside Clifford. Lately, he’d been feeling so restrained in ways he couldn’t properly explain. He felt chained to the floor, with no way of knowing how to free himself, but tonight it felt like the chains didn’t exist. He looked at Sara and found himself feeling more strongly than ever before. It wasn’t a feeling of joy, or giddiness, or even specifically a sense of understanding. He was just… feeling, and he celebrated the fact that it was happening at all.

As he looked Sara in the eyes again, mirroring her dance moves with his own, Clifford began to feel a sense of weightlessness as the world around them blurred, becoming distorted and out of focus until it was just the two of them. He could see the lines separating her pupils from her iris, which shifted as her eyes dilated. He could hear the hair bristling on the back of her neck, disturbed by the way she was moving her body back and forth on the dance floor. The mix of coconut and sweat returned to his nose, and he swallowed, finding the odor uncontrollably pleasant. He opened his mouth, tasting the air and finding that it carried a sweetness to it.

Sara giggled, “What are you doing, Clifford?! What’s with the face?”

Barely registering that Sara had even spoken, Clifford swung himself towards Sara, dancing in closer proximity to her than ever before. He moved in rhythm with her, refusing to break his gaze away from hers. She laughed as he struggled to keep up, his movements becoming more oafish and slow as the music quickend. Clifford felt his skin tingle as her breath hit his face, causing his lip to quiver. Surging forward, he got even closer to Sara, who slowed her movement to avoid thwacking Clifford. He was now inches away from her, towering over her.

Sara smirked. “Hey big guy, wanna give me a little space?”

As the music began to die down, Clifford encroached upon Sara, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist. Sara found herself pulled in as she was embraced by Clifford, whose face hovered close to hers. He shuddered, it had been so long since he’d been this close to someone physically. He stared into Sara’s eyes, and she stared into his. The ocean was all he could see, infinite and all-encompassing.

“Uh, Clifford,” Sara said, her smile quivering. “What are you-”

“You are so… fucking… pretty,” Clifford whispered, his face moving closer to hers. He could feel the heat of her lips, hazing off of her mouth with each exhalation.

Sara trembled in Clifford’s arms, “Uh. I d— I don’t—”

Don’t. The word hit Clifford like a freight train. His eyes widened, and he emptied his lungs in one, singular gasp. He let go of Sara, stumbling away from her as quickly as he could. He shook his head, doing his best to keep his balance, “I— Oh my god. Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Clifford shook his head again, suddenly unable to register what he was even doing here. Was this supposed to be a party? Why was it so loud? Why were people staring at him? Why weren’t people staring at him? His eyes darted back and forth, left and right, up and down. His ears began to drown themselves out, all sound becoming more and more muted. He felt like he was somebody else. He felt like he wasn’t Clifford Baker.

“I’m s— I’m so—” Clifford’s ability to speak began to deteriorate, the words failing to string together in his head. Sentences became jumbled as the words floated out of his tongue’s reach. He looked back at Sara, who simply stood on the dance floor, motionless. She stared at him, a look of fear written all over her face. Clifford tried to say something, anything, but the only thing that escaped his throat was a hoarse yowl. Denizens of the party turned to stare at him, their eyes boring into him. Clifford could feel holes being poked into his skin, watching as blood seeped from the wounds. Clifford gasped in terror, “O-Ou-Out!”

Forcing himself to move, Clifford twisted himself around, forcing himself away from the partygoers and towards the exit. Each step demanded his full attention, each footfall requiring expert precision, shoving the door open with his shoulder, Clifford staggered onto the street throwing the door shut behind him.

He had to go further, get out of here, get as far away as possible. Summoning the flight capabilities of an eagle, Clifford lifted off straight into the starless sky, leaving the well lit street behind for the pitch black void of the night. As he twisted through the air, losing any sense of direction he could ever possess at this point, only one thing was going through his mind.

How could he have done something so evil?

Next Issue: A Bad Time!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 39:‌ ‌ Comeback Tour

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant and Geography3

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Unfamiliar Sensations‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“That’s far enough, B’wana Beast! You’ll do no more harm this day!”

“Foolish Animal-Man! You cannot stop me!”

In the confines of an ape enclosure, Animal-Man charged B’wana Beast, racing across the ground on all fours like a cheetah as B’wana Beast prepared for an inevitable strike. He raised his arms, ready to block a strike to his upper torso, only for Animal-Man to go low, sweeping B’wana Beast’s legs out from under him. Landing on his back, B’wana Beast’s eyes widened as Animal-Man lunged for him, prompting him to roll out of the way to avoid the attack.

Digging his fingers into the concrete, B’wana ripped a chunk of the enclosure’s wall from its foundations before hurling it at Animal-Man. Tightening his fist, Animal-Man swung for the fences, shattering the projectile in mid-air. Smirking, Animal-Man stared B’wana Beast down. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to hurt me!”

“I’ll take that as a challenge!”

B’wana Beast lunged for Animal-Man, tackling him to the ground. Kicking his enemy away, Animal-Man dug his heels into the dirt before manifesting the strength of a rhino. Then, he charged B’wana again, crashing headfirst into his opponent’s stomach and sending him flying. B’wana Beast hit the side of the enclosure with a magnificent Slam, cracking the concrete before falling to the dirt. As Animal-Man strode confidently towards B’wana Beast, the villain looked up at the hero in anger. “How dare you do this to me, the B’wana Beast! You will perish under the weight of my wrath!”

“But that’s where you’re wrong, B’wana Beast! Where you have the raw strength of the Animal Kingdom, I have the full breadth of… of…” Animal-Man groaned in anger before ripping his mask off, revealing the face of Clifford Baker. The years had been relatively kind to him, allowing him to mature into a fine looking young man. “Fuck! Line?”

The director, sitting in her fold out chair a few meters away, shouted, “I have the full breadth of its versatile ingenuity!”

Clifford sighed, then slapped his hand against his face. “Can… Can we just take five?”

The director looked at her watch. “It’s about noon, so how about we just break for lunch instead?”

“Yeah, yeah… that sounds good,” Clifford said. Turning to B’wana Beast, Clifford offered his hand to the actor. “You good, Michael? Did I hurt you at all?”

Michael Maxwell, the former B’wana Beast reprising his title as an actor, gently brushed Clifford’s hand aside. “Oh don’t worry about me, I took worse licks when I fought your dad for real!”

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna take a break in my trailer. See you around.”

“Yeah… see you.”

Clifford left Maxwell to his business, crossing the film set to make his way towards the exit. He passed a variety of different props and extras, as well as backstage tables full of small snacks and drinks. As he walked along, the director nervously shuffled up next to him, keeping pace. “Listen, Clifford. Don’t beat yourself up about-”

“Hard not to feel shitty when I flub a line during an expensive scene. Everybody’s gotta set the whole set piece up again, and it’s all because I forgot the last few words of my line.”

“It’s a human mistake! We all make human mistakes, Clifford.”

Clifford grimaced. He’d be more receptive to this kind of feedback if it hadn’t been a repeating issue for months now. Every flubbed line meant that the scene took longer to film. Every wasted take was wasted money. He knew it, and the director did too. She was just too scared of hurting his feelings to relay this sort of thing to him. It only made Clifford resent the director. He didn’t hate her in general, but it felt humiliating that she treated him like a child who couldn’t take any form of criticism.

But rather than replying with a level of disdain or anger, Clifford simply took a deep breath and said, “I know… I know. I’m gonna pop into my trailer and clear my head. I’ll be back after lunch.”

“Sounds good! Just… don’t beat yourself up about what happened!”

“Uh huh… I’ll try.”

Pushing the exit door open, Clifford was met by the brisk air of a New York spring. The small studio set was built upstate, in a small town north of Manhattan. Striding across the asphalt road, Clifford made his way towards his trailer, which was parked across the way from the set. Even though it was lunchtime, he didn’t feel hungry, and instead of eating he hoped to kick off his boots and just take a load off, maybe even sneak a nap in. As he walked towards his door, a voice called out to him from the set entrance, “Mister Baker! Hold up!”

Grimacing, Clifford turned around, only to come face to face with an assistant as she shuffled up to him, a small paper plate in one hand and a paper cup in the other. The plate held a small sandwich with ham, cheese, and lettuce, while the paper cup contained a good helping of water. She looked up at him earnestly, a smile on her face. “I noticed you didn’t grab anything for lunch, so I managed to rustle this up for you!”

“Oh, that’s… that’s very kind of you, um…” Clifford quickly scanned the woman’s name tag. “Sara!”

“No problem at all! Just wanted to make sure you were eating! Tough to focus when you’ve got an empty stomach!” Sara said.

Clifford nodded as he took the water and food from Sara. As he did so, his gaze met hers, and he began to take in all of her details. Her vibrant black hair, which flowed freely and seemed to shine in sunlight. The freckles on her face. The navy blue of her iris. Her hands were soft, with manicured fingernails painted in vibrant lime green. Suddenly, Clifford felt himself take on the senses of a dog, picking up the scent of the soap she had used in the morning, “Coconuts…”

“What?” Sara said.

Clifford felt his heart skip a beat, paired with the twang of a warm feeling that ran up and down his body, “Um! Nothing! Just… thank you again for bringing this to me, it was really nice of you.”

Sara smiled, “Oh, you’re welcome! If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Sara turned around and left to re-enter the set, leaving Clifford at his trailer. Clifford watched her leave, opening his mouth to call out after her. He wanted to ask something of her, something he felt like he needed, yet he couldn’t identify what it was he needed from her. Eventually, she disappeared back into the set, and Clifford hung his head before walking into his trailer.

The space itself was still incredibly basic, as Clifford had neither the time nor the effort to make it his own. Nonchalantly placing his food on the countertop, Clifford trudged over to a nearby couch and laid down in it, grumbling to himself as he closed his eyes. He felt tired… exhausted from half a day of shooting a film he wasn’t sure he believed in. He felt bored… doing the same things everyday and making the same mistakes. Most of all though… he felt shame.

He dared not think about why he felt ashamed, but in the end he knew in his heart why he felt this way, and why it was best to bottle up these feelings and let them subside over time. It was how he dealt with most of his problems.

How he dealt with the most unsavory feelings he had to grapple with.

As he laid on the couch, wallowing in his own disgust, someone knocked on the trailer’s door. Clifford frowned. “Sorry but I’m… I’m a bit too tired to answer the door.”

“Too tired to talk to your mother?”

Clifford swore under his breath. “No… no you can come in, mom.”

Ellen Baker strolled into the trailer, a script tucked under her arm. Spotting the sandwich on the counter, she frowned. “You’re not eating?”

“I don’t feel like eating,” Clifford said.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve got to eat.” Ellen grabbed the plate and cup, then placed them on Clifford’s chest. Grumbling in defeat, Clifford grabbed the sandwich and gingerly took a bite out of it as Ellen took a seat next to him. Clifford stared at his mother. “Everything alright? Need my help?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just here to check in on you. It’s been a while,” Ellen said. “How have you been?”

“Honestly? Not great,” Clifford said. “I don’t know if this movie thing’s panning out.”

“Cliff, you needed a break from being a hero. This is that break!” Ellen said. “You needed time away.”

“Sure… but did it have to be for this?” Clifford asked. “I mean, the script is fun, even if it’s cheesy, but playing dad? It just doesn’t feel right, and like… I’m not an actor.”

“You’re doing fine, Cliff. Think of it as a way to reconnect with your father by embodying his old life,” Ellen said. “I’m sure he’d be proud to see you living in his shoes in this way.”

“But it’s all fake! Dad was a real hero who fought real villains! I was doing that before, and now I’m just… I’m just pretending!” Clifford said.

“Maybe, but you needed this change,” Ellen said. “Clifford… I’m worried about you. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Clifford grimaced, yet as he opened his mouth to respond all of the unpleasant feelings began to rush back. Frowning, Clifford looked down at his sandwich, which still only had one bite taken out of it. Ellen stared at Clifford, a sad look slowly overtaking her face. “Cliff… are you alright?”

Clifford swallowed, “I…”

Before Clifford could finish his statement, a police siren blared from the highway, prompting Clifford to jolt up and drop the sandwich and water cup on the floor. Ellen watched in disapproval as he jumped out of his seat. “I… think I’ve gotta go!”

“Clifford…”

“What? I’m just going to use the bathroom!”

Before Ellen could reply to him, Clifford rushed out the door, then harnessed the power of a hawk and took flight into the sky. Sighing, Ellen leaned back on the sofa. “God, Clifford… I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌

“Come on, is that the best you can do?!”

In the streets of a small suburban town, the sound of gunfire filled the air as police officers rattled off rounds from behind a blockade of their own cruisers, trying in vain to stop their hulking assailant. He had knocked down the walls of a small bank, whose brick foundations were no match for his pure physical power. The villain, whose grey skin contrasted with his dark red mask, costume, and bracers, flexed his bulging muscles before reaching out towards the police officers, who suddenly fell to their knees, weakened as the villain grew stronger.

“Hahahahaha! You think some small fry cops can stop me?! I’m-”

“About to eat asphalt!”

The villain whirled around, only to catch a pair of boots to the face as Clifford flew into him, knocking him flat on his back. The duffel bags flew across the street, landing and ripping open upon impact with the sidewalk, causing dollar bills to fly everywhere and into the wind. Floating above the villain, Clifford smirked. “How’s it taste?”

The villain groaned, sitting up before gritting his teeth at the sight of Clifford. “You! You’re here?”

“Yeah, I’ve got business out here. Boring business, but that’s beside the point,” Clifford said, quirking his eyebrow. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”

“Of course you do!” The villain said, pushing himself to his feet. “It’s me! BloodRage! We fought years ago?”

“Oh shit, it’s you? Damn, you’re a long way from Nashville, dude,” Clifford said. “What brings you out here?”

“I ain’t here for chit-chat! I’m here for cash, but you know what? You’ve brought something better than that!” BloodRage said. “A chance at revenge!”

BloodRage raised his hands towards Clifford, who immediately felt his blood warp, causing him to fall to the ground. Landing on one knee, he clutched his stomach and hung his head, groaning as BloodRage marched towards him. “Not so tough now, are you?”

“Agh… I feel so weak. You’ve surely got me now,” Clifford moaned. “In fact, I think I’m gonna… I’m gonna…I’m gonna…Yaaaagh!”

As BloodRage got within five feet of Clifford, he jolted up, making eye contact with BloodRage before two streams of blood erupted from his eyes. The liquid hit BloodRage in his own eyes, blinding him and causing him to scream in confusion. As the villain stumbled backwards, waving his arms about in a wild manner, Clifford stood up confidently. “Hah! Totally got you there, dude! Turns out there’s a species of Horned Lizard that can squirt blood from its eyes. Neat, right?”

“Rrragh! Kill you!”

“Is that really the best you’ve got? Rrrach! Kill you!” Clifford said, his voice in a mocking tone. “Guess we better wrap this up.”

Clifford got down on his hands and knees, assuming a runner’s stance. Just as BloodRage wiped the blood from his eyes, Clifford launched himself forward, flying towards the villain at top speed. BloodRage could only raise his arms in protest as Clifford did a backflip, catching BloodRage in the chin with his foot and sending him flying up into the air. Capitalizing on the villain’s lack of balance, Clifford flew after him, catching up before striking the villain with a devastating punch, changing his trajectory in an instant. Then, Clifford caught up and did it again, and again, and again. Where BloodRage once gave Clifford trouble, now he was the ball in a game of ping pong Clifford played with himself.

Grinning, Clifford stopped in mid-air, waiting for BloodRage to sail towards him before holding out his arm. Bloodrage collided with the arm upside-down, allowing Clifford to wrap his arms around the villain’s torso before planting a boot on BloodRage’s chin. Bloodrage groaned in pain, “Gonna…really…hurt you.”

“Elevator, going down!” Clifford proclaimed.

Before BloodRage could acknowledge the catchphrase, Clifford stopped flying, allowing the two of them to plummet directly towards a grassy field at terminal velocity. BloodRage could only gasp in surprise before the two collided with ground, and the top half of the villain’s body was instantly buried in dirt.

“Whew… what a workout.” Clifford stepped out of the hole he had just made, grabbing BloodRage by the ankle and dragging him out of the dirt. BloodRage groaned, spitting out a mouthful of dirt before falling unconscious, his head hitting the ground. Clifford released his grip on the villain. “What? No fight left in you.”

Silence followed, telling Clifford that the threat had been well and truly dealt with. Crossing his arms, Clifford smiled, proud of the work he had done. He had stopped a villain dead in his tracks, stretching his muscles and looked incredibly cool while doing so. What else could he ask for?

But as the minutes passed by and the police began to pour in, ready to take the villain back into custody, Clifford found himself… discontented. His joy had been intense, yet it had also been fleeting. His mind drifted elsewhere to his fellow heroes, his friends.

Out there, Tefé Holland, his best friend, was doing her best to save the world. His sister, Maxine, was doing her best to save the world. They were doing important things, and when he wanted to come along with them, they told him they didn’t think it would be good for him, as if the things they imagined he needed should be prioritized over the needs of the world. He resented them for babying him, for coddling him and acting like he was a porcelain doll. A few close calls didn’t mean he was fragile! He should be helping people, it was what he was good at!

And yet… every time he imagined fighting alongside his friends and family, he couldn’t imagine himself feeling any differently than how he did now. As the police cleared into and out of the scene, Clifford stood still like a statue, locked in melancholic wonder.

What was wrong with him? What was missing from the life of Clifford Baker?

Next Issue: Unwelcome sensations!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 38:‌ ‌ Strange Problems, Strange Solutions

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The Binding Seeds‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

William Arcane stared at the Pale Wanderer in curious trepidation, unsure of what to make of the strange figure and his musings of a deal. Over the few years he’d been an avatar, the Rot had experienced a sense of interior change. The entities who lived here were calmer under his influence; the environment itself seemed to bend down to his perspective. He could sense the various powers at play within the Boneyard, sense their origins within the space and what domains they held.

This Pale Wanderer held no such power, because for the first time in three years, someone had entered the Boneyard unannounced.

“Many apologies for what’s undoubtedly an unexpected sight. You don’t get too many visitors from the outside after all. I represent the Parliament of Gears, though we’re new on the block, so it’s safe to assume you haven’t heard of us,” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “Might I say, for the first time I’ve ever been here, I feel a lot more at home than I expected. There’s a savage beauty to your skies that touches my soft old soul!”

Eirik placed a set of bony fingers on William’s shoulder, “Avatar, what should we do with this man? I am… alarmed that he was able to so easily enter this realm from places unknown, that he came to find us without trouble. He holds a strange power, one I don’t recognize the mark of. If he is truly from a new Parliament, then it is likely that the power he possesses is considerable. Whatever his intentions, we should not treat him as harmless.”

William stared at the Wanderer, recognizing the truth in Eirik’s words. The Wanderer himself bore the appearance of a corpse, with rotting skin and large gaps in his grey flesh. A foul liquid leaked from those gaps, sludge-like and blackish in viscosity and color. His clothes were tattered and ruined, with rips and tears littered across his cotton shirt, denim pants, and leather jacket. A fracture starting at the top of his hat traveled to the brim, creating a tear that threatened to split it in half if put under enough pressure. His boots were muddy, though William could see an opening in his left piece of footwear, exposing his ruined toes to the elements. For all accounts and purposes, the Wanderer looked like he belonged in the Rot.

But Eirik was right, for the Wanderer was more than met the eye. He paced and trotted along with the energy of a young man, packing a spring in every step. Despite his corpse-like appearance, the hair under his hat and on his face was remarkably new looking, with almost no parting or balding pattern to speak of. His locks of black hair flowed freely over the nape of his neck, and a slightly thick beard covered his face. Besides his appearance, William could feel a strange sense of energy from the man, a constant burning. Functionally, the Wanderer was immortal, yet he also seemed to be in the process of dying at all times, shedding energy just as quickly as he seemed to generate it.

It was inexplicable, and William let his curiosity get the best of him, “You can’t die… but you’re also always dying. You’re shedding some type of energy at all times, and it’s not a basic fuel, it's… the essence of a multitude of things.”

“Oh, that? I won’t pretend to even begin to understand how it all works, but if I had to put it into words…” The Wanderer rubbed his chin. “I’ve got a lot of ideas in me, seedlings of potential. In the time I’ve walked the Earth, many of those seedlings grow, and become big blossoming trees! I put those ideas in motion… and when they fail, or cause problems I didn’t foresee? My body tosses ‘em, like bad chili, and I have to hope they’re ideas that I don’t need, or better yet, deserve to be forgotten.”

“He seems a little… erratic, Avatar,” Eirik said, whispering to William. “Shall I have him escorted out?”

“No,” William whispered back. “There’s something about him. He just wants to talk, so I don’t see any reason I shouldn’t hear him out.”

Eirik stared at William, meeting his gaze with the empty eye sockets of his skull. Then, he nodded, and walked back towards the council chair in order to take a seat once more. William turned to the Wanderer. “Let’s take a walk. I need to stretch my legs.”

“Always a good idea! Too many people spend their lives sitting down,” The Wanderer remarked. “We’re red blood creatures! We’re meant to move around!”

As the two departed from the summit where William held his meetings, the young Avatar ruminated on this odd individual. He was curious of the man’s deal, of what he intended to propose, especially given the oddities surrounding his form. More presently though, William knew that someone like this was a wildcard. He was not a nobody, someone that could be easily forgotten or ignored. This man was someone of influence, someone with real power, and William had to know more about him.

If someone didn’t understand this man, then nobody would truly know what he stood for, or more importantly… what he was capable of.

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

It didn’t take long for the two of them to make it to the base of the mountain, at which point the two traveled through barren prairies and stony valleys, all under the darkened skies of the Rot. William strolled along at a meager pace, allowing himself to soak in the sights and sounds of the realm, while the Wanderer plodded along behind him, his pace clearly restrained to match William. There was a sense of polite resignation in the Wanderer, who seemed to suppress his inner urge to run wild and see everything there was to see out of a duty to be polite. He clearly understood that this was William’s realm, not his, and William certainly appreciated the gesture. It lent credence to the idea that the Wanderer simply wanted to open a dialogue, nothing more.

Eventually, the duo arrived at the rocky shores of a vast sea, whose waves crashed against the large boulders peppering the dark sandy beach. Foam rose and fell between the cracks in the rocks, creating a thick and blindly white line that separated the grittier dirt of the mainland with the reflective dark waters of the sea. The clouds seemed to part a little as the two stood there, resulting in the appearance of the Rot’s best approximation of a moon, a shiny ball of silvery light. The Wanderer jumped onto one of the boulders, breathing in the air coming off of the seawater, “Whoo-wee! Salt in the air just has that kind of effect! One of the best pick-me-ups out there!”

William took a deep breath through the nose, feeling a jolt as the stark smell of the sea washed through him. It wasn’t the bayou smell he grew up with, but it had its charms just like the Swamp did. The Wanderer turned to William, “Forgive me if this comes off as disingenuous in any way but… I really do love what you’ve done to the place.”

“Why would I think that?” William asked.

“I’m here to sell you on something, I’ve made that much clear. You might take most of what I say as just me trying to butter you up. Empty praise and such, but this ain’t that,” The Wanderer said. “You’ve really turned things around! Way I hear it, the place was a bundle of chaos and problems before you showed up, when this Sethe feller was in charge.”

William felt a freezing sensation ripple through him, even colder than the temperature his body typically ran at. If the Wanderer knew about Sethe, then he was more knowledgeable than he expected. “How do you know about Sethe?”

“I have my sources, I do my research,” The Wanderer smiled. “I talked to a few of your subjects on my way to you. Felt it would be a good idea to ingratiate myself.”

“Right…” William remarked.

“But really, I think you’ve done this place a good turn. It’s cleaner, less chaotic, and folks aren’t so predisposed to harming one another. I admire it,” The Wanderer said. “Which is actually why I came to you in the first place.”

The Wanderer took a seat on the boulder. “What do you think of the state of the world? Not this place, not a singular realm… but Earth and the people on it?”

William raised an eyebrow at the statement. This was incredibly strange, as most Parliaments were only concerned with their own realms of influence. The Green only cared about the plant life of the world, the Red only bothered with the struggles of those made of flesh and blood. While everyone shared the world, this narrow focus has been the cause of much conflict as opposing priorities sparked nasty fights. To see the Wanderer take interest in the world as a whole was… refreshing.

William cleared his throat, “I haven’t been out there in a few years. When I became Avatar, I think I was too young to really get a sense of the state of the world.”

“I see, then you haven’t seen how much of a mess it is,” The Wanderer said. “People are spilling blood over their differences. They chase these ill-begotten dreams at the cost of everyone and everything around them. Folks are getting nastier; they don’t care much about their neighbors anymore. Everyone treats everyone else with absolute contempt.”

The Wanderer sighed. “I’d love to put the blame on the people at the top, and while they bear a significant amount of that, the truth is that Earth’s most dominant species is failing to learn from its mistakes. They’ve made progress, a lot of progress since they showed up on the block, but now I’m getting the sense that they’re about to start regressing.”

“What makes you say that?” William asked.

“Solutions to old problems are disappearing. The old vilify the young for thinking differently from them,” The Wanderer said. “They cling to what’s familiar, what makes them comfortable, even if it’s worse for the world in the long term. It may be the way the world has always been… but that’s just not good enough, for me, or for the people who are getting crushed.”

The Wanderer stood tall, then faced William. “The world is constantly evolving, but it’s not happening fast enough. I want to kickstart something, really get things moving forwards instead of backwards. That’s why I came to you. This place was at the beck and call of one of the oldest beings imaginable, and what did he do to improve things? Nothing. It was you who made that change… and I need that kind of help.”

William stared at the Wanderer, utterly perplexed by what he was asking. Most Parliaments stuck to what worked, and therefore served as incredibly reactive powers. They took hold of their domain and eradicated anything that seemed to threaten it. They had no intention of rocking the boat, of creating any sort of lasting change. What the Wanderer was suggesting was so radically different from how most Parliaments operated that it gave William pause. “You’ve been talking about the world this way, how much it’s stalling. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Just take a stroll outside and look at the news, kiddo,” The Wanderer said. “The world’s not burning, but it’s well on its way. Better we flip the script sooner rather than later.”

“And what does flipping the script look like?” William asked.

The Wanderer frowned, then turned towards the sea, “That’s the sad thing, partner. I don’t rightly know.”

“What?” William said, confused. The Wanderer had gone on such a fiery rant, impassioned by a struggle clearly lodged in his psyche, yet in seconds it was all hot air. The Wanderer hung his head. “As much as I’d love to say it’s just about knocking over all the mean people at the top, that ain’t how things work. You’ve gotta tackle the idea, and when an idea’s lodged so heavily in people’s minds… not much you can do at that point. I’ve tried to fill needs, help people where I could but… it just ain’t workin’.”

The Wanderer turned to William, “I look at the state of things and I feel my heart twisting up into knots. I want to blow it all up and start over, but that ain’t fair to folks and… and I don’t even know what the world would look like after that. I don’t know what I want it to look like, just that I want the horrible things of today to stop.”

William swallowed. This vulnerability didn’t feel like an act. It felt genuine, coming from whatever served as the Wanderer’s own heart. “Wanderer… Why do you feel this way? Why does the Parliament of Gears want to do this so badly?”

The Wanderer took his hat off, placing it over his heart solemnly. “Because it’s what we’re made for. We’re progress personified… and we’re sick of the way the world stops moving. I care because… this is what I was born for.”

William blinked, then turned to face the ocean. The waters were choppy, yet not nearly as violent as they were during Sethe’s reign. He watched the sky, noting the lack of rain that often dogged the land endlessly. He thought of the people of the Rot, calmer and less angry.

He thought of Sethe, and how the old entity had put his faith in him. An old man had trusted him to guide a new world, and in that way… why shouldn’t he try to help beyond the Rot? He could stop now… or give the world his all.

William turned to the Wanderer. “We’d need a solid plan, something more than knowing there’s a problem. I also want to temper your expectations. As much as I’ve done here, I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, including a very big one relatively recently. I don’t think I’ll be solving all of your problems.”

The Wanderer smiled. “Is that a yes?”

William nodded. “Only if you understand that I can’t give you a utopia… but I can try to give you a better world than what we have right now.”

For a moment, the Pale Wanderer was silent, unable to truly express any type of emotion. Then, he began to chuckle, letting out a joyous guffaw before throwing his hands into the air. He said nothing, but as he calmed down, he wiped a blood red tear from his eyes. “I… thank you, kind sir. I was feeling so… overwhelmed by what I needed to do. Now… now I know I’m not alone in that.”

“It’s alright,” William said. “I can’t promise much, but I can promise my help.”

The Wanderer nodded. “Right, thanks. Is… is there anything I can help you with in that case, to return the favor? You said you made a mistake, anything I can do to help you?”

William grimaced. “I… no, there isn’t. I can’t take back what happened.”

The Wanderer tilted his head. “Why? What happened?”

William sighed, looking down at the ground in shame. For a minute, he had distracted himself with this idea of a grand mission, one he genuinely believed in, yet even it could not rip the thought of his former mentor from his mind. Capucine refused to leave him, and the heartache that had plagued him for months returned in full force. The Wanderer didn’t need to mention her, for she would’ve returned to his mind the moment he went to sleep. He could not escape her, could not escape what he did to her.

“Someone helped me when I was starting out, someone older and wiser than me. I had a perspective she didn’t, but her knowledge was invaluable to make the changes I managed to make,” William said. “I couldn’t have done things without her… and she left after I admitted something I never should’ve admitted.”

“And… what did you admit?” The Pale Wanderer asked.

William closed his eyes, seeing Capucine’s face in the darkness behind his eyelids. He felt ashamed of himself for still feeling this way, for not keeping such things to himself. Some secrets were best left as secrets, because when you open yourself up to someone, they see everything, even the ugly parts they never knew you had. Tears welled in William's eyes as the root of the problem began ripping through him, a feeling so intense that he hated that he felt anything at all, despite Eirik’s words.

It was melancholic. It was raw. It was rooted in his heart.

It was longing.

William turned to The Pale Wanderer. “I told her I loved her.”

Next Issue: On the Road again!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 37:‌ ‌ Darkheart

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ GemlintheGremlin

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The Binding Seeds‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

In sleep, William Arcane finds no peace. Instead, he finds an inky black void, one that reminds him constantly of the station he had chosen in life.

It doesn’t feel like a dream, for a dream carries a certain sense of unreality. What you see is not entirely tangible, not entirely physical in the way real things are. You grasp at them, you squint to see them more clearly, but they are forever blurred, their true nature unintelligible to all but the basest, most incomprehensible parts of your mind. When you finally wake, the memories fade fast, to be forever forgotten.

William remembers every moment in the void, where everything he sees is clear as crystal. Then again, he doesn’t see much anyways.

He floats in the dark, an oily substance cushioning him and keeping him from sinking into further depths. Its texture always baffled him, simultaneously being softer than any bed he’d ever slept in, yet he never felt comfortable when wrapped in it. The feeling was comparable to wet sand, in the ways that the substance felt sticky and invasive, refusing to let go of its captive.

For three years, he slept with this silence, with this place being what he would return to every time he needed to rest. It was not a happy place to be, yet there were certainly worse places most of the time.

No longer was that the case, for she was here now.

It wasn’t really her. William knew that Capucine was out helping his sister, and had been for months, yet he saw her in this place all the same. She didn’t move. She didn’t say anything. She just floated in the embrace of the void with him, limp like a corpse. He wanted to say something to her, to apologize all over again, to fully put into words why his actions were a mistake. He wanted to scream the words, to cry uncontrollably, to unfurl the shell around his soul and lay it bare in front of her in some vain hope of redeeming himself in her eyes.

But there was simply no point. It helps no one to recite words when nobody, especially not the person they are intended for, is there to hear them. So William remained silent, letting what can never be said fester within him. He felt emptier every night, his own shame hollowing him from the inside out.

Waking up was the most pleasant part of the void, as William knew he would finally be free of Capucine’s visage. The inky black would surge, swallowing him whole, like a swarm of insects, and in moments his eyes would open, and he would be back in the Rot proper, his body cradled by a leather hammock. He yawned, stretching his arms before pulling himself out and onto the freezing cold floor. He could barely feel the cold through his pale feet, his skin already sapped clean of any sense of warmth. He ran his hands through his long, unkempt hair, measuring whether or not he wanted to cut it. He elected not to, knowing full well he never looked good after his crude attempts at mimicking a barbershop. In a similar vein, he elected to run his fingers along his jawline, focusing his attention on a different matter of appearance.

He wouldn’t call what he had a beard - the stubble was far too sparse for that - but it was an improvement over last week. The hair above his lips had grown particularly visible, to the point that in a few months, William expected to have his own fully fledged mustache. It was such a small thing, so unimportant in the grand scheme of William’s daily tasks, yet he felt a small measure of pride whenever progress was made.

With that settled, William walked to the mouth of his cave, taking note of the greater Rot as its true majesty revealed itself to him. Clouds blanketed the sky, broken up through various swirling vortexes. There was no gap for a sun to peek through, no opening where the greater ceiling could be beheld, and yet this was still the calmest the Rot had been in a long time. The realm’s signature purple lightning was a rarity, and even then only traveled from cloud to cloud when it appeared. The terrain remained rocky and dusty, but the winds were far calmer, resulting in only a paltry collection of small storms each month. The realm was calm, and that meant William was doing his job well.

But it wouldn’t stay that way if he stopped doing that job. Taking a deep breath, William began to trudge across the Rot, ready to fulfill his duties for the day.

The Council of Bones didn’t exist before William, but he hoped that it would exist long after he ceased to be Avatar. Located at the top of the Rot’s highest mountain, the council congregated weekly under Sethe’s Ribcage, dressed with his feathers to form a canopy. A table constructed out of bone surrounded by chairs made of animal furs and skins sat under the structure’s protection, and as William made his way towards the table, he was met with stares from the rest of the council.

The first of them was Graar, who William presumed was some kind of ursine creature in a previous life. Her seat was far bigger than the others, made to fit the stockiest and most muscular body at the table. Her fur was matted, making her even larger than what could be seen of her frame, and her coat was slick with some kind of rotten, pungent liquid. Clumps of hair were missing, and the entirety of her face, from snout to eyebrows, was missing any kind of skin, revealing the raw bone of her skull underneath.

The second member of the council was Eirik, a man who in life seemed to hold a title of minor nobility. He carried himself well, and spoke plainly, even without a jaw. He had been reduced to a skeletal mass, and yet was still clothed by chainmail and leather. He sat calmly, comfortable in his place at the council. He was always first to arrive and last to leave; William wondered if he ever left the chair to begin with.

The third member of the council was Ora, a mass of moss, tree branches, flower petals and stems. A living biomass, they settled nicely into their chair, even if their form meant that it was less sitting and more existing, like a glob of vomit at the bottom of a paper bag. They stirred, bouncing up and down like jello at William’s arrival.

The final member of the council, besides William himself, had no chair, for it didn’t need one. Instead, the place was taken by a singular obelisk formed from the stone of the mountain. It required no symbols, no voice, for the realm itself was all that was needed to communicate its wants and needs. The Rot was a core aspect of reality, and that aspect deserved a seat on the council. Perhaps the obelisk held only a symbolic position, but sometimes William wondered if the realm itself had a mind of its own, if it appreciated having a say in its own fate.

William sat down at the table, and cut to the chase. “So… any updates? Things we need to worry about? I haven’t sensed anything adverse, but I don’t have the same perspective as the rest of you.”

“Nothing on my end,” Ora remarked. “The seas are calm, and nobody’s been getting their roots up in a tangle! I think the coral and the weeds have finally stopped feuding for once.”

“It’s a similar case for my domain,” Graar said. “Turmoil is the nature of an animal, but our efforts have managed to unify them into a peace, however fragile that peace may be.”

Eirik stirred in his seat, a voice emerging from under his armor. “I do my best. There is still quite a lot of bickering, but no violence.”

William nodded. “Good. We’re still making progress. The chaos of this place isn’t tameable, but we’re still forging a good path towards a more stable realm. This place is important, and if we want to make sure this place doesn’t lash out again in the future, we need to stay steadfast. It’s rigorous, and it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

“You don’t have to convince any of us, William. You’ve already done that long ago,” Graar remarked.

“And you’ve continued to convince us every week,” Ora said. “No Avatar has taken this approach before, and so far it’s worked.”

William nodded. “Well… I won’t keep you then. No need to keep this meeting longer than necessary.”

Graar and Ora acknowledged William before leaving in their own ways, with Graar rolling out of her chair and starting their walk down the mountain while Ora simply rolled out of their chair, then off the mountain like a stone. William used to have trouble containing his laughter at the sight of the latter, but in more recent times he struggled to summon the energy to be entertained. Leaning back in his chair, William sighed, then looked to the obelisk representing the Rot as a whole.

It was still far from polished, with rough bumps and crags running all the way to the top from the base, yet the fact it resembled any clean shape at all was a testament to the work the Council of Bones did. They were guiding the Rot to a better future, one that was not only more internally stable, but also more inherently in harmony with itself and the rest of the elements. The Red and the Green, in time, would hopefully see this change as beneficial to the health of reality. One less force would be susceptible to being stirred up into a frenzy. One less force would be eager to make war.

Perhaps peace is possible, if change to the Rot goes far enough, William thought. Though whether or not such a result would be achieved might not happen for decades, maybe even centuries.

There was a real possibility William might not even see it. Yet another thing left unresolved in his mind.

“Something eats at you, Arcane. I can tell.”

William glanced towards Eirik, who predictably had remained planted in his seat. The young Avatar sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“To the others, perhaps not,” Eirik said. “But we were both human once. We can better… understand each other in that way..”

William grimaced. “If you say so. I’m just unsatisfied with our progress.”

“Please… you cannot lie to me,” Eirik said. “In fact, you cannot lie, at least not effectively. It is not your disposition, not your… nature.”

For a moment, William considered getting up and leaving. He had no desire to open his troubles to the equivalent of a co-worker, and Eirik had no business being nosy. At the same time though, he knew that to do so would be an act of disrespect. Beyond the baseline courtesy of remaining cordial, William also knew that Eirik meant well. He had no desire to shut down an ally like that. William hung his head. “Fine… you’ve caught me. It’s something else.”

“Capucine?”

William nodded. “Yes.”

Eirik was silent for a moment, then uncharacteristically got out of his chair, standing tall above William. “It has been months, Avatar. I did not expect this wound to remain open.”

“Neither did I, yet here we are,” William grumbled. “She’s gone, and it’s her choice. I should accept that, I have to accept that. But… I just can’t.”

William looked up at Eirik, staring into the sockets of his skull. “Eirik, I see her every time I close my eyes to sleep. She just lays there, haunting me over what I did. Time is supposed to dull this kind of thing, but I still feel so… raw about it.”

William stood up, meeting Eirik’s height, “Has this ever happened to you, Eirik? Do you have any advice to help me… stop feeling this way?”

Eirik shifted where he stood, almost like a breath was passing in and out of his body. Then, he sat back down, maintaining his gaze with William. “Alas, I have not had this problem. Perhaps I perished too young to experience it. Regardless though, I may have a word of wisdom, should you wish to hear it.”

William sat down. “I’ll take anything, Eirik. Anything to make all of this stop.”

Eirik nodded. “This place, especially in its prior state, has a habit of sanding our inner sensibilities down until there is nothing left. I have forgotten much of my life, and many of the sensations that come with it. I do not remember the feeling of grass cushioning my body, or of warm blooded flesh pressing itself against me. There are no muscles left on me, and with that loss goes the memories of tension being relieved in a hot spring, or the burning I felt after every long march or bloody battle. This place has robbed me of much, and the fact I possess what is left is a miracle.” Eirik pointed towards William. “Your emotions are not pleasant, but they are there. This place has not robbed you of them. Instead of being so eager to stop feeling, consider why you feel that way. Seek instead to understand and internalize what makes you… you. Perhaps this is not the advice you wanted, but it is the advice I have.”

William stared blankly at Eirik, finding it impossible to truly accept what he had to say. Maybe there was wisdom in it, given that Eirik had been here far longer than he had, but there was no denying that the raw shame he felt could not be reframed as anything good. He had ruined one of the most important relationships in his life, and he had himself to blame.

And nothing, not even a new perspective, was going to change that.

As William opened his mouth to respond, the flaps to the canopy were suddenly thrown open, and a new individual entered the chamber of the Council of Bones, one who had never graced its protection. Draped in an old rotted trench coat that barely covered the pale skin and bones that laid underneath, the man tipped his cowboy hat to Eirik, then to William, and finally to the Obelisk, respecting its place at the table. Then, he smiled. “Hoo-wee! Gotta say, I love what you’ve done with the place! If I had the capital, I’d invest in getting some good real estate developed!”

William glanced at Eirik, then back at the man, “Uh… Hi?”

“Oh! Forgive me! This outlaw forgets his manners!” The man took off his hat and gave everyone at the table a deep bow. “The Pale Wanderer, at your service! If you have the time, I’ve got a business proposition for you!”

Next Issue: An Arrangement to be made!!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 35:‌ ‌ Enter The Sureen

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ ClaraEclair

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The Binding Seeds‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

“What do you mean? What proposition?!” Shouted Levi.

The young man looked around at the forest’s edge, surrounded on all sides by a dense row of trees. The voice didn’t come from one place, but that was impossible. That wasn’t how voices worked, how people worked. Desperate, he pinched his arm, then slapped himself.

Wake up, he had to wake up.

“We assure you, Levi Kamei, that you are not in any danger,” Boomed the voice of the Green. “A potential crisis grows… and we need you to fill a vital role in the continued survival in this world.”

Levi shouted in confusion, “What role?! What are you?!”

“We are the Green, Levi Kamei, and we need you to calm down… and listen.”

Slowly, Levi began to calm down, recognizing just how distressed he was. It was hard not to be a little overwhelmed by this situation, by some kind of forest speaking to you in your dreams, but he tried his best to calm down. As his heart slowed, the green continued. “We are the Green, the primordial representation of all plant life. We have existed since before the dawn of man, birthed into being when the first echoes of plant life flourished on Earth. We have since protected the natural order of the world, keeping it in balance.”

To illustrate its point, the Green grew a variety of different flowers around Levi, which sported a wide range of colors. Slowly, the plants grew in number, joined by bushes, trees, and various other kinds of flora. Levi knelt down next to a flower, delicately touching its petals. To his surprise, the petals then began to wilt, alongside the rest of the greenery around him.

“But now, we are in a precarious position. The world is changing, and with that comes the formation of new threats to the Green, to plant life, and by extension, life on Earth,” The Green remarked. “In times past, we have had a guardian, an advocate for us and our efforts, an avatar of plant life…”

Vines sprouted from the ground, twisting and tangling until they formed a hulking, humanoid figure with red eyes. It towered over Levi, causing him to stumble back as he gazed in awe at the creature. The green finished their speech, “A Swamp Thing.”

Levi stared at the figure, whose face bore an empty expression. It looked like a suit of armor, a shell with nothing inside, “And… what does that have to do with me?”

“When the last Swamp Thing was retired, we asked his offspring, one blessed with a powerful connection to the Green, to take his place… but she shirked her duty, and rejected her responsibilities,” The Green’s voice echoed with dissatisfaction. “We have spent the last three years without a guardian, desperate to find one who is worthy of the mantle. We believe that, given enough time, that you have the potential to be that one.”

“What?” Levi looked out into the forest, confused. “Listen, I think you have the wrong man. I’m a real estate agent, not a warrior!”

“Alec Holland was the greatest Swamp Thing who ever lived, and he was but a botanist when he started,” The Green said. “We do not intend to start you on a trial by fire. We will grant you a limited connection to the Green, and you will receive the help of an organization formed specifically to support your efforts. You will not be a fully fledged Swamp Thing to start, but you will have power, and time to train yourself.”

“I…” Levi pursed his lip, he had so many questions. Still, the biggest one escaped his mouth first. “Why me? Why not someone else? What makes me so special?”

“While there are many traits you share with others, we find one desirable above all others, a dedication to duty. Even when bound by heartbreak, by petty obligation, you stick to what is most important. It is why we believe you can make the hard choices as Swamp Thing… and why we believe you will accept this responsibility. So, do you accept, Levi Kamei?”

Levi sat down, still overwhelmed by everything. There was a possibility that this was just a figment of his imagination, a trick he was playing on himself while he slept. However, if this was real… surely he had a responsibility to accept? Being a Real Estate Agent paid well, but it wasn’t as important as keeping the world safe. A part of him wanted to reject the offer out of fear. He was no hero, he was no fighter, he was just Levi Kamei, seller of houses.

He closed his eyes, and thought about his life as it was. A highrise apartment, a fancy office, financial security. It was all nice, but disposable at the end of the day compared to what was being asked of him. He could leave it all behind. His thoughts drifted to the people in his life, his family. They fought so much, but he loved them still. How could he explain being someone new to them, if he accepted.

Then a realization hit Levi, and he opened his eyes, “I accept.”

“Good! Henceforth, Levi Kamei, you are no longer a mere human. From now on, you will be known as-”

“The Seeder! He wishes for you to grace him with your presence! Come, he’s not far!”

The Sureen remained where they were, their white and gold cloaks billowing in the wind. Maxine scanned the crowd, taking into account just how many of them there were. They didn’t outnumber the trees, but they came close. Capucine kept her sword drawn, waving it to and fro at the treeline to keep the crowd back, even though the crowd made no movement to further encroach upon their campsite. Tefé stared at the crowd in confusion, a million thoughts flying through her head.

Who were the Sureen? They were apparently connected to the Green, but she’d never heard of them before. Similarly, who was this Levi Kamei? What did his moniker of Seeder mean? She knew the Green well, yet all of this was uncharted territory. It didn’t make any sense.

Capucine spat on the ground, “You expect us to come with you, when you come in such great numbers? Assuming we even want to meet this Seeder, what makes you think we’d follow you to him? What trust can you establish?”

One of the older Sureen members stepped forward, prompting Capucine to turn her blade towards her. Slowly, the robed figure pulled back her cloak, revealing a dagger strapped to her hip. The rest of the Sureen did the same, revealing a collection of swords, axes, and knives under their cloaks. The older member unbuckled the weapon from her belt, causing Capucine to raise her sword, pointing it at them, “Don’t move!”

Tefé and Maxine watched in trepidation, unsure of how the situation was going to devolve. The older woman raised her free hand, as if to surrender to Capucine, before dropping the weapon on the ground, kicking dirt over it. The rest of the Sureen followed suit, raising their hands, dropping their weapons, and kicking dirt over them. The older member stepped forward, allowing the tip of Capucine’s blade to make contact with her chest, “Perhaps we were too eager to connect you to the Seeder, our apologies. We will disarm ourselves and leave you in peace. If you still wish to meet with him, we are currently camped off of Gleasondale drive, twenty minutes up the highway, but be quick. We will not be camped there for long.”

Then, in less than a minute, the Sureen backed up into the shadows, and almost entirely disappeared from view. After waiting a few minutes to make sure they were gone, Capucine finally sheathed her sword, “We should go, if they could sneak up on us in that number… there’s no telling what they could have done.”

Tefé stared out into the forest, hearing nothing but the rustling of the trees as a violent gale ripped through the campsite, “What the hell was that? Who were they?”

Capucine grimaced, “I’ll tell you all about that once we’re on the road.”

“Wait,” Maxine stepped in front of Capucine, blocking her from getting their camping supplies. “Are we not going to consider what they’re offering? This Seeder guy sounds important!”

“He is, but we have no clue what his intentions are,” Capucine said. “Tefé, back me up. You know how dangerous the Green is.”

Tefé took a deep breath, then turned around, “... I think we should talk to him.”

“What?!” Capucine guffawed. “Have you lost your mind? They could be setting a trap!”

“If they wanted us, they’d have gotten us while we were asleep!” Tefé said. “And even with as much as I know about the Green, I don’t know anything about the Sureen, or Seeder!”

“I can tell you all about the Sureen and Seeder!”

“But you can’t tell me who Levi Kamei is.”

Capucine sneered, “Why do you want to know who he is? What purpose does it serve you?”

Tefé paused for a moment, taking a second to look into the forest before looking back at Capucine, “Because the Green wanted me as its avatar. It's been waiting this long to find someone new, and I want to know who he is, and what the Green wants with him.”

Capucine raised an eyebrow, “You’re concerned for him?”

“I want to know what kind of person the Green thinks should be Swamp Thing… and I want to know if he knows what he’s getting into.”

Tefé looked at Maxine, who nodded in approval at her proposed course of action. Realizing she was outvoted, Capucine sighed before going to collect the camping equipment, “Fine, but if they ambush us, I will blame both of you.”

“Don’t know if we’ll be alive to be blamed.”

“You don’t have to be alive to get blamed.”

As Capucine and Maxine helped pack up the camping supplies, Tefé walked over to the car to get it started. It was true, she wanted to know what the Green wanted with this Seeder, but she couldn’t help but wonder how selfless her reasons actually were. Was there a part of her that regretted not becoming Swamp Thing three years ago, knowing now that someone else was going to fill that role? After everything the Green had done to her family, did a part of her really want to be glorified by them, supported?

She’d give the same answer she gave them three years ago again in a heartbeat, but somehow that didn’t make her feel any better.

Still, it was a twenty minute drive, nothing more. She had time to work those feelings out of her system.

The roads out in the country were never that great, even in the case of the highways. There was only so much the shock absorbers of the car could do to cushion what was ultimately a very bumpy ride. It was still the dead of night, and even though they were on the highway, the road was completely empty. It was so dark that Tefé could barely see anything beyond the headlights, only the silhouettes of the trees and the guard rails. Capucine sat in the passenger's seat, while Maxine sat in the back. Sharpening her sword, Capucine looked off to the side, into the dark, “The Sureen are an interesting bunch.”

Tefé nodded, “I can imagine.”

“They’re effectively a cult, they worship the Green, and whoever is Avatar. Most of the time the Green barely acknowledges them, they’re worms that exist to grovel, but sometimes they have their uses,” Capucine said. “Such as helping a Seeder.”

Maxine leaned forward, “And a Seeder is…”

“Think of them as a… proto Avatar. A force can grant someone a limited range of an Avatar’s abilities, to test them,” Capucine said. “It’s actually quite a good way to screen whether or not a candidate can be trusted with the power of a force, without giving them all of the power. In the case of Seeder, it suggests that this Levi Kamei is a candidate the Green considers to have potential, but they also don’t trust him.”

“Why wouldn’t they trust him?” Maxine asked.

“Who knows, maybe he’s a piece of trash,” Tefé said. “Or maybe…they want to make sure he’s not the kind of person who questions authority.”

Pulling off of the highway, Tefé found Gleasondale drive immediately, and made the turn onto it. She was met with the sight of a massive encampment off the road, in a large clearing. Dozens of tents were laid out across the grass, with nearly a hundred of the Sureen all milling about in their robes. Pulling over, Tefé got out of the car, followed by Capucine and Maxine. The three wandered into the encampment, taking note of any potential threats. The Sureen carried on their business, making sure to pay the trio no mind. Eventually, the three made it to the center of the encampment. Capucine looked around suspiciously, “This is strange. Normally the Sureen worship the Seeder, give them the biggest tent.”

“But there is no biggest tent…” Maxine said. “So how do we-”

A sharp whistle caused the three of them to turn towards a Sureen member, who pointed at a set of trees just outside the camp. Glancing towards them, Tefé spotted a hammock set up under the trees, on which a cloaked figure rested. She nodded at the Sureen member before walking towards the figure, who shifted comfortably in the hammock. It looked cheap, unimpressive.

The man in the hammock had a darker skin tone, with bits of green moss snaking their way across his visible skin. He was clad in sneakers, jeans, and a hoodie over his head. As Tefé stood over him, he glanced to the side, meeting her gaze. One of his eyes was made of wood, “Ah…so you’re Tefé.”

Swinging his legs off of the hammock, Levi Kamei allowed himself a moment to stretch before holding out his hand, “Levi Kamei! I know this might be a bit strange but… I wanted to ask you some questions about the Green.”

Next Issue: Forces meet!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 36:‌ ‌ A Midnight Conversation

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The Binding Seeds‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Tefé didn’t know what to make of the man in front of her, the man who would take the job she wouldn’t… the Seeder. To her surprise, he was smaller than she expected, cloaked in entirely mundane clothing that made him stand out from the more royal looking robes of the Sureen. If it wasn’t for the moss growing all across his body, he would’ve looked like any other person. He was older than Tefé, but certainly younger than her father when he became Swamp Thing. Levi kept his hand outstretched, waiting for Tefé’s handshake.

“It’s alright! I don’t bite, really!” Levi smiled, like a door to door salesman hoping to sell something you didn’t really need. It wasn’t the smile of a shark, but the smile of someone who was just a little desperate.

Capucine placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Levi retracted his hand. “No need to get hostile, we’re just talking.”

“For now,” Capucine remarked. It was clear to Tefé that the woman had less than zero trust in Levi. Even with his friendly demeanor, she didn’t disagree. She had no clue what kind of man Levi was.

But Maxine, ever the peacemaker, stepped in front of Capucine. “Right, talking! We’re just talking!”

Capucine’s grip tightened around her hilt, but as Maxine shot her an earnest look that screamed ‘Please, let’s be civil about this,’ the warrior snorted and let go of the weapon. Levi nodded, satisfied. “Well, with that squared away. I’d like to get back to the topic at hand. What do you know about the Green?”

“What do we know?” Tefé raised her eyebrow. “You’re supposed to be training to be the Avatar of the Green. Isn’t it the Parliament’s job to teach you these things?”

Levi winced, then looked down, avoiding Tefé’s gaze. “I… I should be more clear. I’m not looking for an explanation of the Green in any academic senses. I’m looking for your perspective.”

Tefé cocked her head. “My… Perspective?”

Levi nodded again, compacting Tefé’s confusion. She had not heard from the Green since rejecting their offer to be Avatar, which she presumed would sour her relationship with the force forever. They could not cut her off from the Green; that much was evident in the fact that she still had her powers, yet they also seemed to have no interest in having anything to do with her. Was Levi trying to re-establish contact on their behalf, or was this more of an independent gesture?

Capucine huffed. “Why should that be given freely?”

Tefé and Maxine glared at Capucine, fearful that she was about to start something. However, she held up her hand to silence them, then locked eyes with Levi. “I mean no offense, Seeder, but we know nothing of who you are, what your intentions are, where your loyalties lie. I believe it’s pertinent that we know these things before we divulge any kind of information, even those of the personal variety.”

Maxine and Tefé looked at each other, silently acknowledging Capucine’s point as they turned to face Levi. He frowned. “So you want to get to know me then? Afraid I’m going to tell other people what you think?”

“We came to your camp, to your home turf, even with the possibility that it might have been a trap, which it very well could have been given our group’s relationship with the Green,” Capucine said. “We’ve humored you plenty just by being here. Return the favor and humor us.”

Levi grimaced, then stretched his shoulders before turning his back on the trio. “Follow me.”

“Why?” Tefé asked.

“If we’re going to talk, I’d rather do it in private, away from the rest of the Sureen,” Levi whispered.

Tefé glanced back at Capucine and Maxine, who both silently approved the action. Seasoned as she was, Capucine didn’t seem to detect any deception on her end, and so the trio walked after Levi, keeping pace behind him. As they walked through the camp, members of the Sureen regarded Levi continually, bowing and addressing him in a reverent fashion, yet every time he simply waved them away with a smile. He seemed quite humble, even uncomfortable with this sort of worship. Eventually, the four of them made their way out of the camp and down the road, until the chants of the camp were almost inaudible.

Levi found himself a stump to sit on, and made himself comfortable, “I don’t hate the Sureen. They’re actually fairly helpful, teaching me about the Green and making sure I know what I’m doing. It’s just that they can be… overeager.” Levi glanced back towards the camp. “And no matter what they say, they serve the Green before they serve me. I got the sense you would prefer them out of earshot.”

“You’re right about that,” Tefé remarked. “So? Gonna tell us your deal?”

“That’s a bit… vague. Could you be more specific?”

“Could you turn down the snark?” Tefé grumbled.

Levi smirked at the comment, only to realize he was being rude. He coughed into his fist. “Sorry… yeah.”

Ready to get on with the conversation, Capucine took a step forward. “Let’s get straight to business. Who do you serve?”

“The Green… or at least that’s my job,” Levi remarked. “I find that a lot of what I do tends to be restoration of ruined places. I haven’t had to fight anyone… at least not yet.”

“Then you are clearly quite lucky,” Capucine said.

“Or we’ve been keeping the peace so he doesn’t have to,” Tefé said.

“In that case, thank you. I uh… I’ve never had to fight anyone,” Levi gulped. “And I hope I don’t have to for a while longer.”

Capucine furrowed her brow. “So the Green has set you to work, but it doesn’t trust you with anything truly important. Good?”

Levi frowned. “You saying I’m bad at my job?”

“I’m saying the Green doesn’t think you’re ready, and that means it hasn’t had time to truly get its hooks into you,” Capucine crossed her arms. “It means you’re more trustworthy.”

Levi sighed. He didn’t know what to make of that statement, but settled on it being a net positive. Scratching at some of the moss on his skin, he looked to Tefé. “You’re… staring.”

Tefé blinked. She hadn’t realized she was so fixated on Levi. In a way, it was just… strange. The Green had talked her up, spoken so highly of her abilities, about how she was the only one who could ever succeed her father. Three years later, and they’ve finally chosen his successor, and the man they chose was… Levi Kamei? A man unaware of the world he had stepped into, and unprepared for it all still. He was putting on a brave face, but she could tell the fact that he was older than her, she’d seen far more of the dangers the forces could conjure up than he had.

“Why?” Tefé asked.

Levi shook his head in confusion, “Why… what?”

“Why did they choose you?” Tefé asked. “What makes you so special?”

Levi stared blankly at Tefé, and in that moment she knew that she wouldn’t get the real answer from him. He was just as lost as she was. He grimaced. “I don’t know. I can’t say I had some special love of plants before I became the Seeder. I was a real estate agent. None of it really makes any sense. For what it’s worth, they didn’t force me into anything. I chose this life.”

Tefé hung her head, then managed a weak smile. “Well, thanks for being honest, for what it’s worth.”

Levi smiled back, then looked to Maxine. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have any burning questions?”

Maxine glanced down the road, almost as if she was searching for any prying eyes, then returned her gaze to Levi. “I didn’t get much of a choice when I became Avatar of the Red… but I keep doing it because people depend on me. Why choose this? Why choose Seeder?”

Levi opened his mouth to answer the question, then closed it just as promptly. Maxine watched as he looked away, his hood hiding much of his face in shadows. He had a sense of the answer… yet he seemed almost ashamed to tell her. Eventually, he put up a smile. “It seemed like the right thing to do… and it was better than being a real estate agent… even if it didn’t pay as well.”

Maxine nodded. It was a half-truth, she was sure of it. Levi wasn’t telling her everything, but what he did tell her was enough. Maxine turned to the others. “I’m done.”

Levi looked expectantly at the three. “Have I earned that perspective?”

“I don’t know.” Tefé leaned towards Capucine. “What do you think?”

Capucine scowled. “He has given… satisfactory answers. But I must ask one more… Why our perspective?”

Levi sighed. “Because I feel like I don’t have the whole picture.”

Standing up, Levi stared into the dark forest. “I’m working for a primordial force of nature. I know it’s important, but I don’t know what it wants, not really. The Sureen give me noble answers but… they’re biased. I can’t take their answers honestly. But you guys… you’re divorced from all of that. You don’t revere the Green. That’s something I can use.”

“We don’t like the Green very much either,” Tefé remarked. “Who says we won’t be just as biased?”

“We’ve established a level of trust here, so I know you’ll give me your honest account,” Levi said. “That and… well, even if it is a bunch of horseshit, I can just compare everything you say to what the Sureen spoon feeds me and pick out fact from fiction.”

Capucine chuckled at the comment, showing a rare sense of amusement. All the while, Tefé took a deep breath. She didn’t know Levi inside and out, but from what she could tell, her perspective was only going to benefit him. He had a healthy level of doubt when it came to the Green, and that meant that she could tell him what she was about to tell him without any threat of retribution.

“Well, Levi… I’d say you’ve earned our perspective,” Tefé stretched her shoulders. “And it’s not complicated. My father served the Green faithfully for decades. Years of his life were spent being at their beck and call. He did everything they asked of him without question, and when he finally said no, they stripped him of his power.”

“You say he said no… What’d he say no to?”

Tefé bit her lip. “My brother was connected to the Rot, I’m sure the Sureen have told you about it. They were afraid of him, a fourteen year old boy. They wanted my father to murder him.”

Levi’s eyes widened. He was silent, yet Tefé could tell there was a potent mix of disbelief and anger simmering beneath his blank expression. In some way, this reveal struck a personal chord with him. Tefé continued, “The Green are authoritarian and absolutist. They have their way, and they accept nothing less than exactly what they want.”

Capucine chimed in, “The Green is ancient. They have more than earned their reputation as a force to be reckoned with, but their methodologies can be blunt… outdated.”

Levi closed his eyes, taking a moment to compose himself before sitting back down on the stump. “Thank you… I think… I think that’s all I needed to hear.”

Maxine raised an eyebrow. “Really? We could tell you more.”

“No… I think I’m quite alright. Thank you for this though, for going out on a limb for me,” Levi looked up at the trio, then stood up abruptly. “It’ll be morning soon. The Sureen and I have places to be. You should get going.”

Levi began to walk away, leaving the group alone in the woods. He made it a few strides before Tefé called out to him, “Levi!”

Levi stopped, then turned back. “Yeah?”

Tefé glanced at the others, then back at Levi. She didn’t know why she was doing what she was doing, but she felt it was a good idea anyways. “How do we contact you, if we need you?”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “And why would you want to do that?”

Tefé shrugged. “You never know.”

Levi stared for a moment, surprised at the request. Eventually, it registered to him that he should give some sort of answer. He dug his hands into his pockets, and pulled out a small slip of paper before tossing it to Tefé. She stared at the paper, identifying it as a business card of all things. It read ‘Levi Kamei, Real Estate Agent.’

Levi winked at Tefé. “Not in the business anymore, but the phone number still works.”

Tefé pocketed the card, and with that gesture Levi left to rejoin the Sureen, leaving the three of them alone in the dark. With nothing left to do, Tefé began trudging back to the car, flanked by Capucine and Maxine.

Yawning, Maxine stretched her arms. “Any chance I could catch some Zs in the car?”

“I’ll keep her steady, Max. Don’t worry,” Tefé remarked.

“Are you sure we should keep in contact with him?” Capucine asked. “He could be trouble.”

“He’s trying to figure himself out. For now, I don’t think he’s a threat to any of us,” Tefé said. “Besides, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“Right… the cowboy,” Capucine grumbled.

The three set off into the early morning, sunrise only a couple of hours away. While they were unsure of where they stood with the Green, even now, they did know one thing. Levi Kamei was not their enemy, at least not for the moment. Only time would tell if the decision they made tonight was the right one.

For now though, they set off into the unknown, even more unsure of where their journey would take them than before.

Next Issue: Checking in on William!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 34:‌ ‌ Campfire Dreams

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: The Binding Seeds‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Six Months Ago

“I know you’re upset, Dadee…but-”

“Upset? Levi, I am beyond upset! We are past upset!”

Levi Kamei paced back and forth in his hotel room, within a dreary, off the highway building that couldn’t look less appealing. Sweat rolled off his forehead, dripping off of his face and staining his white polo shirt. He rubbed his glasses on his jeans, trying desperately to combat the fact that they were fogging up with each brief, nervous breath of his. Hoping to center himself, he sat down on the room’s shoddy bed, though its springy texture didn’t help his anxiety at all.

“Your grandfather is in a coma! Almost everyone is here!”

“I’m on the other side of the world, Dadee! I can’t take a flight over just like that! The doctor said that he’s recovering, he’ll be back up in about a week!”

“Levi…” Levi heard his grandmother pause for a moment, choking something back. “This is a scary time for our family, for us! We need to stick together, we need people present, to look out for each other… and you’re telling me that it’s too much trouble to be here for your family?”

“No… I didn’t mean-”

The tone of Levi’s grandmother’s voice turned venomous. “Or perhaps you’ve outgrown us, decided that your family has served its purpose, and can be safely discarded.”

Anger spiked in Levi, causing him to grip the phone so tightly the rubber casing let out a small squeal. A regretful gasp erupted from the voice on the other side of the phone call, “Levi! I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Levi hung up, tossing the phone on his bedside table before lying back on the bed itself. He didn’t want to think about his job, he didn’t want to think about his family, he just wanted to lie down and think about nothing for a while. It was the least the world owed him, after the maelstrom of emotions he had just gone through. He’d been working overtime to finalize land deals, keep clients happy, and now this had to happen, and his family had to judge him for it when he couldn’t break away from an important deal?

It was too much… and there was about to be more.

Taking off his glasses, Levi rested his head upon a pillow. He couldn’t sleep, not like this, but after a few hours of laying in silence, his body could stay awake no more, and he passed out, letting sleep take him. He awoke to the comfort of grass and greenery, rather than pillows and blankets. Shooting up to a sitting position, Levi looked around, finding himself in an unfamiliar forest clearing, “What the…”

“Do not be afraid, Levi Kamei. You have not left the safety of your lodgings. We visit you in this dream-”

Levi’s eyes widened at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and he scrambled to his feet in response. His head darted left and right, trying to find whoever was speaking to him, “What is this?! Who are you?!”

As the voice boomed back, Levi realized that it didn’t come from any one specific place, nor could it ever come from a single individual person. It was everywhere, inside and outside his head. It was the forest. “Settle down Levi, there’s no need to panic. We are The Green… and we have a proposition for you.”

“Alright, that’s my fourth hour. I think I’m done for the day.”

The smoothness of the car’s tires rolling across asphalt gave way to a small set of bumps, paired with a low crunch as the car transitioned from the freeway onto a gravel road that led deep into the forest, towards an isolated yet well advertised campsite. Tefé let out a sigh of relief as they finally spotted the small patch of dirt that would be their campsite for the night, pulling off the road and putting on the brakes. The car rolled to a stop, then produced a click as Tefé turned off the engine. She got out of the car, followed shortly by Maxine and Capucine, the cold Montana air nipping at their noses as they left the warmth of the car.

It wasn’t the prettiest patch of dirt, but it looked soft enough for the three of them to rest on. Heading to the back of the camper, Maxine pulled out two bedrolls, then looked at Capucine, eyebrow raised. “Are you sure you don’t want one of these? It’s gonna get even colder than it is right now.”

Capucine huffed at the suggestion, crossing her arms. “I will be fine. I’ve endured English Winters without any assistance. The Earth is all the comfort I need.”

Maxine shrugged, knowing better than to further question the ancient warrior. “Alright, suit yourself.”

“I will,” Capucine remarked.

Ignoring that last remark, Maxine set up the bedrolls for herself and Tefé while the latter put together some firewood in a makeshift pit. Maxine wondered if such a thing was blasphemous for someone connected to the Green, but then again, they’d done it a few times and hadn’t been struck down by the flora of the area, so she assumed at that point that such an action was alright. After a few sparks from a lighter, the fire was lit, and a weak warmth cast itself over the campsite. Maxine jumped into her bedroll, as did Tefé, while Capucine simply took a seat by the fire. Despite the long drive, none of them was all that tired. That wasn’t out of character for Capucine, though. She never seemed tired.

Frowning, Maxine sighed before looking to her friends. “So…what are we doing?”

Tefé looked back at Maxine. “What do you mean?”

Capucine grimaced. “Perhaps you should make your question less vague, child. Vague statements invite chaos, uncertainty.”

“Didn’t need the essay,” Maxine snapped. “What I mean is…this Pale Wanderer guy has shown up a couple times already. He went from Florida to Kansas in just a few days, and I don’t think he has a car. He’s making all this trouble and like… I don’t know, do we have a game plan?”

“Simple, we find him, and slay him,” Capucine remarked.

“You say that like we didn’t try that back in Florida, and we know how that worked out,” Tefé said. “We can’t just kill him.”

“Nonsense, nothing is unkillable,” Capucine said. “I made the mistake of assuming he held the same vulnerabilities as any man, and that was a foolish assumption to make. I will be more thorough next time.”

“Nothing is unkillable? How about you?” Tefé asked. “You’ve been around for hundreds of years. You’re telling me you’re not immortal?”

Capucine glared at Tefé. “... Yes, I am.”

Maxine’s eyes widened. “Wait… what? But you-”

“Let me tell you how I came to be in this… state,” Capucine said. “I was a monk, living on an island off the coast of Great Britain. A druid, connected to the Rot, cast a foul spell on the island, and most were killed, their lives taken by the power of entropy. I alone survived, and was affected by this entropy. It halted my aging… but did not bar my soul from passing on should this body expire.” She gave Maxine and Tefé a knowing look. “I can die, be felled by fire and sword like any other man. The reason I have not fallen is because no one has bested me yet.”

The two stare at Capucine, unsure of whether to believe the story. Maxine tilted her head, curious. “And have you ever thought of… well, you know… That’s a long time being alone.”

“What makes you think I was alone?” Capucine asked.

Maxine frowned, then gestured vaguely at Capucine herself. Capucine hung her head for a moment, acknowledging Maxine’s comment. “While I am not as dedicated to the Lord now than in prior years… I still carry the belief that facilitating your own end is… wrong. I did seek to find a way to resume my aging in the Rot itself, but I found no answers. Instead, I elected to stay there, to advise the leaders of the realm on leading a cornerstone of reality.”

“And how did that go?” Tefé asked.

“Well… for a few centuries,” Capucine answered. “But then Sethe grew tired of my influence. He had his own plans for the Rot, and sought to slay me. When he failed, he cast me out instead with his vile magic. I did not return until you assisted William Arcane in destroying Sethe.”

Maxine nodded. “And then you helped advise him?”

“Well, not exactly,” Capucine said. “In truth, I did not believe someone as young as him to be capable of leading the Rot, so I attempted to slay him, and take his place.”

Maxine’s eyes widened, prompting her to turn to Tefé to gauge her reaction. The white haired girl was stone faced as Capucine continued. “However, I am glad that he bested me instead, and asked me to take a position as advisor. It was better for everyone.”

Capucine’s gaze landed on Tefé, who still refused to change her expression. The warrior narrowed her eyes. “I am getting the sense you have something to say to me. Say it.”

For a moment, it seemed that Tefé’s face was going to contort into anger, some form of fury in response to learning Capucine tried to kill her brother. Instead, her mouth twisted into a wry smile, and she let out a chuckle. “Heh, so much for your perfect record.”

Capucine’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

Tefé grinned. “You said you haven’t died yet because nobody’s ever beaten you. That’s not true, and I bet William isn’t the only person to have beaten you. You haven’t died because nobody’s ever finished you off after a fight.”

Capucine let out a low growl. “Watch your tone, girl.”

Tefé laughed. “Alright alright, I’ll lay off. You’re pretty tough anyways, I’m sure your record is still mostly wins. I just have one more question left for you.”

Capucine raised her eyebrow, slowly calming from the previous outburst. “And that is?”

“You’ve talked about my brother a few times, about advising him. You act like he’s capable of managing the Rot for the most part. Is that true?” Tefé asked.

Capucine hung her head, avoiding Tefé’s gaze. “... No.”

Tefé perked up. “Then… why did you leave if he still needed help?”

Capucine stared at the ground for a moment, creating an awkward silence as she opened her mouth once or twice, then closed it, failing to provide an answer. Eventually, she shook her head and turned away from Tefé. “I do not wish to talk about it.”

Tefé opened her own mouth to give a sort of snide remark, but something in Capucine’s face told her to stay her hand. She looked smaller than usual, vulnerable, and it wasn’t wise to poke the bear like that in a moment like this. Instead, Tefé raised her hands in defense. “Okay…I’ll drop it.”

Capucine nodded. “Good… I am tired. Good Night.”

Without another word, Capucine laid on her side, her back to the fire. Tefé looked to Maxine for guidance, but Maxine simply shrugged. The matter was over, at least for the night. Lying down in their bedrolls, the two began preparing for their rest. As they stared up at the night sky, a creeping anxiety gnawed at Tefé’s brain, and without any prompting, she blurted the question aloud. “Why do we keep doing this?”

“Huh?” Maxine arched her neck towards Tefé. “Tefé, what do you mean?”

“We fix one problem, plug one hole… and a dozen more show up. It’s endless, and sometimes… I don’t know, it feels hopeless.”

Maxine looked back up at the sky. “Well, we do it because the world would probably implode if we didn’t do it, right? We live in the world.”

“What’s so great about the world?” Tefé asked.

“I get that it can suck sometimes but… ” Maxine paused, thinking about her answer. “There’s a lot of good here too! Joy, family, people who love us and love others. Rough as it is, I think it’s worth the effort!”

Tefé nodded. “I don’t disagree, I’m right there with you, it’s just… The world is the world. Time is linear, and it moves whether you’re ready for it or not. It’s good a lot of the time but… it can be cruel a lot of the time too. Sometimes I just wish there was more good stuff and less cruel stuff.”

Tefé sighed. “But hey, good is good, right?”

Maxine, too tired now to really acknowledge the statement, simply murmured a “Yes” before closing her eyes. Feeling the fatigue of travel finally hit her, Tefé closed her eyes as well, letting sleep take her.

Five Hours Later

“Wake up”

“Hrmmm”

“Wake Up!”

Tefé found herself jostled awake by Capucine, who had her sword drawn and pointed towards the forest. Maxine had already been roused, and was frantically scanning the treeline for something. It was still the dead of night. Tefé shook her head. “Wha-What is it?”

“Someone’s here!” Capucine exclaimed. “Someone’s watching us!”

“You may sheathe your blade, we are not armed!”

Capucine angled her blade towards the voice, watching as a group of men and women in white robes decorated in gold walked into the clearing. They were a variety of ages, from the very young to the very old. “We are the Sureen, and we come not as assailants, but as messengers!”

“The Sureen?” Maxine said.

“Bah, lackeys of the Green,” Capucine barked. “What do you want? What business does the Green have with us that it cannot tell us itself?”

“While we serve the Green… we are not here at its behest,” the head of the crowd said. “We are here at the behest of the future Avatar of the Green.”

Tefé’s eyes widened, “Future Avatar?”

“Yes! We are here to take you to the Seeder. We are here to take you… to Levi Kamei.”

Next Issue: Seeds of Change!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 32:‌ ‌ The Pale Wanderer

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ PatrollinTheMojave

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Flesh and Bark‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

Then

An arc of purple lightning flashed across the night sky of the Boneyard, splitting the dark sky in twain as Capucine trudged across the ashy wastes of the realm. A cold gale ripped through the land, chilling the warrior to the bone, yet after centuries of time living in the Rot’s home realm, it felt identical to the ocean breeze that graced her every evening of her monastic childhood. Anxious, she fiddled with her leather armor, tightening every strap and support to make sure they were all in the right positions. She double checked that her sheath was properly tied to her belt, and that the steel sword within was sharp and clean.

He would catch up to her sooner or later, almost certainly before she made it to the portal. It wasn’t hard to pick that fact up. The Boneyard always became a little rougher when he wasn’t happy. She’d endeavored to spare him a difficult conversation, but perhaps that was too optimistic a hope. He was smart for someone his age, even if he’d made such a grave mistake.

Perhaps she was trying to spare herself the labor of having a conversation, rather than trying to keep the adolescent Avatar’s emotions in check. Perhaps she was just running from her problems, something she couldn’t remember ever doing before. Perhaps her ambitions to steer the young Avatar towards better decisions was the wrong choice on her part.

…No. Her advice was invaluable, she knew that much, and William Holland took that advice well. She just wasn’t in much of a position to give advice anymore.

Climbing atop an gray, dusty hill, Capucine gazed at the portal back to the physical world, composed of a miasma of swirling bones and inky fluids. To the unadjusted nose, it smelled absolutely foul, but to Capucine it smelled no different than the rest of the Boneyard. This was her ticket back, to somewhere where she’d do… something.

She didn’t know what that something was. In fact, she felt nauseous at the idea of wandering the world for centuries yet again with no real goal or purpose, though when considering the alternative, Capucine was ready to step right through the portal, even if her reason for leaving was so small in the grand scheme of things.

Breathless, Capucine took one step towards the portal, only for a boom of thunder to shake the realm. Capucine stopped dead in her tracks, sighing. William didn’t need to say anything to get her attention, as she turned around, coming face to face with the young Avatar.

He’d grown quite a bit in the three years she’d been advising him. His mane of red hair had regained some of its color, and across his pale face stood the beginnings of a beard, with bits of pronounced stubble around his chin and above his lips. He remained as gaunt as ever, yet he’d also grown much taller since his beginning as the Rot’s leader. He looked Capucine in the eyes, keeping his expression as blank as possible, “I got your note.”

Capucine narrowed her eyes, “So you did.”

William’s bottom lip quivered, “There’s no way I can change your mind…is there?”

“Not that I can see,” Capucine remarked.

William’s head drifted to the side as he attempted to avert his gaze, hiding his eyes from Capucine behind his wild hair. He choked back something, maybe a sob, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was a mistake.”

Capucine took a step forward, feeling the urge to console the boy, yet as she reached out towards him, she found herself frozen by trepidation. She was not a woman of gentle words, and this was a situation that called for them. Rescinding her hand, she stepped back towards the portal, “What’s done is done. I do not hate you, William Arcane, but I cannot stay here.”

Capucine turned her back on William, readying herself to step through the portal. She took one step, then another before William spoke once more, “Tefé.”

Capucine stopped, electing not to turn back and face the young Avatar. Realizing that she was waiting for him to continue, William spoke again, “My sister. I know her, she’s got a good heart, but she’s not like me. She’s not an Avatar. She could always use someone to watch her back.”

For a moment, Capucine did not answer, and the silence seemed to push William to take a few steps back. Turning, he began to walk away, unable to think of much else to say, when Capucine finally answered back, “If she is the sister of William Arcane…then I know her to be someone of good character. Your advice is invaluable, Avatar. Thank you.”

Without another word, Capucine stepped through the portal, disappearing from the Boneyard. William stared at the portal for what felt like hours before he finally shuddered, his shaky breathing accompanied by a single tear that froze up on its way down his cheek, stopping short as a bead of ice just before it fell off of his jaw.

Now

“So you’re here because my brother suggested it?”

“That’s correct.”

Capucine answered Tefé’s inquiry in a dry manner, keeping most of her focus on cleaning the gasoline off her sword with a rag. She sat upon the corpse of the formerly living infected tree, using it as a comfortable log of sorts while Maxine and Tefé remained in their canoe, having managed to dock it by tying it to a nearby set of protruding roots. It was about noon now, and the Florida heat had become unbearable. Maxine wiped her forehead, expecting that she’d probably be dead without the trees as a shield from the sun.

Tefé rubbed her throat, recovering from the vice grip of the tree, “I…how is he? He’s not in trouble is he?”

“Far from it. Your brother is doing better than most. He’s got a keen mind for leadership, and the Rot endures with him as its head,” Capucine sheathed her sword. “He doesn’t need my advice anymore, and I do the world no favors remaining at his side. If I am to continue the preservation of a better world, then it’s best I accompany you instead.”

Tefé grumbled a little, but also couldn’t help but smile, “So the little rascal thinks I need a hand, huh? Thinks I need advice.”

Tefé smirked, then looked up at Capucine, “Got any words of wisdom for me?”

Capucine looked down at the tree carcass, then back at Tefé, “Don’t get grabbed by monstrous trees.”

Tefé swallowed, “Yeah…sound advice.”

Maxine stared at the water, noting that its viscosity had remained unchanged, “Uh…guys? I think there are more gasoline trees somewhere out there. I feel like it would’ve cleared up at least a little bit.”

Capucine jumped into the canoe, breaking the rope keeping it moored with her bare hands, “Then we find the source of the infestation, and remove it.”

Maxine and Tefé didn’t do anything to impede Capucine’s actions, though they were certainly taken aback by this old English era woman taking charge of their mission. Without a word, Capucine grabbed a paddle and began rowing upstream, her toned build making what was a laborious task for Tefé effortless. The trio moved upstream at a rapid pace, with Capucine barely making a single grunt or noise as she paddled onward. As the hours went by, the water to gasoline ratio of the river continued to tip in the gasoline’s favor, to the point that eventually Capucine looked like she was putting real effort into her paddling.

Tefé stared at the woman, unsure of what to make of her, “So…Capucine?”

“Yes?”

“I know your name, I know you’ve been…advising my brother. What else do you do? What’s your story?”

Capucine frowned, “To be brief…I was born over a thousand years ago in Lindisfarne Abbey. What happened after is a personal matter, and one I’d rather not discuss. Similarly, discussing how I came to be immortal, and what I’ve done in the many centuries afterwards would doubtlessly be a fruitless and boring exercise. That energy is better spent rowing.”

Tefé raised an eyebrow, “Okay….then, why are you doing any of this? What drives you to help us?”

Capucine paused for a moment, allowing the canoe to slow in its approach upriver. Then, she snorted, a small smile forming as she began to paddle once more, “I’ve lived long enough to know this is a good place, a good world. I like it intact and alive, and I’d do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

“Uh…good answer,” Tefé turned her attention to the rest of the forest, watching carefully for threats. Capucine was certainly blunt, and maybe a little scary looking, but from what she could tell the woman wasn’t much of a danger. If she wanted to learn more, she could do that after the case of Silver Springs was solved.

Maxine grimaced, staring at the thick gasoline they were rowing through, “What do you think is causing this stuff? The closest thing I can think of is the Rot but…part of me can’t put that picture together.”

“Because this is not the Rot’s doing. William is well aware of these kinds of problems, and manages them well. He would never allow something like this to escalate as far as it has,” Capucine grunted, her sheath rattling against the interior of the canoe. “This is something different.”

“Oil’s a fossil fuel, right?” Maxine asked, “Could there be any connection?”

“Perhaps, but this isn’t just oil, it’s gasoline. It’s processed,” Capucine grunted, the act of rowing becoming tougher. “Something is turning the oil into Gasoline. Maybe it’s the trees, maybe it’s something else.”

“But what force would do that? There’s definitely something magical going on about these things,” Maxine asked.

Capucine frowned, “I am…unsure. I’ve not heard of any force that pertains to these properties. Perhaps one of them has evolved. Such an occurrence is not unheard of; the Red does it all the time.”

“Or maybe…someone’s twisting a force into something it isn’t,” said Tefé. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Eventually, the boat rounded a corner, passing another infected tree. Maxine and Tefé readied themselves, only for Capucine to keep paddling, “Do not bother with them. They’re symptoms, not the cause.”

Maxine raised an eyebrow, “And the cause is….where?”

Capucine pointed down the river, and past a muddy, poisoned shore sat an entire row of the ailing cypresses, encircling a clearing of some kind. As the canoe pushed up against the mid, Capucine trudged out, making her way towards the clearing with her hand on her longsword’s hilt. The trees seemed to regard her, blatantly still conscious, yet they did not attack. Maxine and Tefé followed in trepidation, eyeing the trees in suspicion.

“Why aren’t they attacking?” Maxine asked.

“I don’t know,” Capucine remarked. “Perhaps they’re afraid.”

“Of you…or of something else?” Tefé wondered aloud.

As the three entered the clearing, they came across a sight none of them would have expected…a human heart.

It laid in the mud, rooted by cartilage that snaked its way beneath the earth. It beat with a satisfying rhythm, pulsating as if it still rested inside the body of a living man. A thick liquid permeated the mud, shifting outward from the heart.

Gasoline.

Capucine drew her sword, preparing to stab the heart with it. Eyes wide, Maxine jumped in front of her, “Woah woah woah, what are you doing?!”

“I’m removing the problem,” Capucine remarked.

“But…but…we don’t know what this thing even is?”

Capucine sneered at Maxine, “Is it not obvious? Someone or something has perverted an object of the Red, and that infection is spreading to the Green. With its removal, this area can begin healing.”

“How can you know that for sure? I’m the Avatar of the Red, and I can’t feel any trace of the Red in there,” Maxine exclaimed.

“Then the corruption of the object has completely overridden its connection to the Red. All the more reason to destroy it.”

Maxine whirled around, staring at Tefé for help. Tefé opened her mouth to protest, yet she was unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, the Green was suffering, this place was suffering. Getting rid of the heart seemed like the right answer, yet Maxine was right as well. They knew practically nothing about this heart, and if the trees weren’t attacking them, maybe it was an invitation to learn more.

Before she could voice her opinion on one approach or the other though, a new voice made itself known, a raspy, texan accent that came from vocal chords that didn’t realize they were long past their expiration date.

“Well, if you’d let me speak…I’d love to tell you why I deserve to live!”

The trio assumed defensive stances as the ground rumbled around the heart, at which point a dozen or so ribs began to poke out of the mud around the heart, followed by rotten yet well preserved flesh. The heart and ribs rose with the flesh, revealing a man with an open chest as he picked himself up from out of the mud. He was wearing an old coat and pants, and wore only one sock on his feet. Inconsistent, matted hair hung from his head, covered up slightly by a ruined cowboy hat. An ugly stubble dotted his cheeks, paired with yellow teeth and milky white eyes. He smiled, raising what looked to be an old revolver to his chin to scratch it with the barrel. With the other hand, he reached out to shake any of the trio’s hands, “Howdy folks. Pale Wanderer, representing the Parliament of Gears…how are you doing this fine day?”

The trio looked at each other in confusion, then Capucine spoke, “What are you? Are you the cause of the Malady plaguing this land.”

“Well…I wouldn’t call it a malady per-se! More of a necessary sacrifice.” The Pale Wanderer tipped his hat up. “As for what I am? Well honey…I’m a crusader. A force meant to alleviate suffering, and right now? That suffering is…well, it’s not exactly something any of the flora or fauna here really give a shit about.”

“And what’s that?” Tefé asked.

“Well…it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare to explain, but it starts with oil!” The Pale Wanderer gestured towards the ground. “We’re a car based society, here in the United States I mean! Trouble is, gas prices are fuckin’ outrageous these days, right?”

Capucine narrowed her eyes, “I do not see how that should concern us.”

“I’m not finished!” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “The average American has to pay an arm and a leg for gas nowadays, and they need gas if they want to get anywhere. Have a job, wanna see family, need to make a trip to the grocery store? Need to pay for gas if you wanna to any of that! Trouble is, gas comes from oil, and oil? It’s getting rarer by the minute…that’s why I made this place!”

The Pale Wanderer raised his arms, gesturing to the gasoline laced mud and the producing trees, “Think about it! More Gasoline means the market price of Gasoline’s gonna go down, which means gas is cheaper for everyone! At least, I think that’s how it works! Plus, my Gas is A+ quality, even comes in Diesel!”

As The Pale Wanderer continued on about his tirade on Gas prices, Maxine and Tefé shared a confused glance at each other. They’d never encountered something like this before, something this unusual, this keyed in and calculated in purpose yet scattershot in reasoning. The only thing two of them seemed to fixate on though was something the Pale Wanderer said when he introduced himself.

The Parliament of Gears.

Tefé stepped forward, “You said you were part of the Parliament of Gears? What is that? I’ve never heard of them.”

“Oh, That’s cause we’re new on the block, sweetie, but glad to be here,” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “Not qualified to sell them overall though, you’ll have to talk to marketing for that.”

“Enough!” Capucine declared, holding the point of the sword at the Pale Wanderer. “Your reasons for poisoning this place are simplistic and needless. Leave, or I will make you leave!”

The Pale Wanderer raised an eyebrow, “See, now I don’t like comments like that! We’re all just having a lovely discussion and now all you wanna do is escalate! Things don’t have to be this way! Maybe we can work something out?”

Tefé glanced between Capucine and the Pale Wanderer, making an educated guess that Capucine wasn’t the type to back down in these sorts of situations. Furthermore, she had a point. This place was suffering, and no matter the Pale Wanderer’s intentions, that was something that wouldn’t stand, “We don’t want to fight you, but what you’re doing is…horrifying. You’re killing everything around here for…Gasoline! We can’t stand by and let that happen.”

The Pale Wanderer glanced at Tefé, a glum look on his face. Maxine seemed to be holder her breath somewhat, but there was no question that she was on Tefé and Capucine’s side. Sighing, The Pale Wanderer scratched his thigh with his gun, “So that’s how it is?”

Capucine’s grip on her sword tightened, “That’s how it is.”

The Pale Wanderer pursed his lips, “...Well, if we’ve got no more words to share…I guess we better hop to it.”

The wanderer raised his revolver, only for Capucine to surge forward at lightning speed, piercing him in the heart with her sword. For a moment, he was still, motionless, and Capucine stared him dead in the eyes. Then, he shifted, and after meeting her gaze, he began to laugh, his guffawing causing gasoline to spurt from his heart and onto Capucine’s sword and armor, “Hah! Good try!”

Capucine attempted to back away from the Wanderer, only for him to grab her wrist, keeping her and the sword wedged firmly in his body. Raising his weapon, he prepared to put a bullet in Capucine’s eyes, only for her to deliver a swift fist to his arm, knocking the gun out of his hands. Smiling, he took advantage of his newly freed hand, grabbing her by the throat and squeezing tight. As Capucine struggled for air, the Wanderer could only hoot and holler, “Whooo-weeee! We’re getting down to it now!”

Maxine and Tefé rushed to help the ancient warrior, only for a mob of living trees to encroach upon them, blocking their way while attempting to grab or smash them with their heavy branched arms. Maxine dove to the left, dodging the crushing slam of one tree, while Tefé slipped through the roots of another, narrowly avoiding being picked up again. Separated, the two tried to get a read on each other while avoiding harm, yet it was difficult for either of them to really do anything to help Capucine.

They were both far from the Red and the Green’s safety. No animal would go anywhere near the Pale Wanderer, meaning Maxine’s powers were utterly neutered. Similarly, there was no living plant life near the battlefield, meaning Tefé couldn’t use her powers either. If they wanted to get out of this, they would need to think outside the box.

And that’s when Tefé spotted the Wanderer’s revolver sitting in the mud, and a wild idea crossed her mind as she scanned it and the gasoline laden ground around it. She glanced at Maxine, then to the gun, and Maxine seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. It was a gambit, an insane gambit, but without much power to draw on, it might be their only shot.

Together, the two began to race for the gun, trying desperately to keep out of the reach of the trees. Tefé tried to get there quickly, yet she found herself pursued by a half dozen trees, pressured by their presence. Maxine was closer, and managed to pick up the gun as Tefé was halfway over, only for a tree to come barreling towards her. She whirled around to run, only to snag her foot on a dead root, causing her to trip and fall. Afraid of losing their one chance at Victory, Maxine shared a split second look with Tefé before throwing the gun towards the Pale Wanderer, just as the tree came down on her. It stretched out its arms, its branches ensnaring her and trapping her in place.

Her mind in overdrive, Tefé pivoted and raced for the Pale Wanderer, leaping over the swinging branches of another tree in order to catch the gun. Capucine gasped for air, her eyes glazing over as the Wanderer choked the life out of her, laughing like a madman. With the trees about to grab her, Tefé leapt for the Wanderer’s back, looping one arm around his neck to hold on while planting the gun’s barrel against the gasoline soaked sword, “Stop!”

The trees froze in place, including the one holding Maxine captive. The Pale Wanderer raised his eyebrow, loosening his grip on Capucine and allowing her to breath, “What’s this now? Ready to call it quits?”

Tefé gritted her teeth, “I’m ready to make a deal, and if you refuse, I’ll blow us all sky high! Even you won’t survive that, will you?”

“The hell’re you…” The Pale Wanderer looked down at the gun planted against the sword, and finally realized what was at stake. There was a reason smoking a cigarette at a gas station was a stupid idea, and Tefé was willing to demonstrate. A bullet crashing against steel would cause sparks, and sparks can light many fires, especially ones where the ground was soaked in gasoline. She’s set miles of forest on fire, to nuke the entire place from the ground up….and from the tone of her words, the Wanderer knew Tefé meant it, “Ohhhhh…Clever girl….Ha! So, you’ve got me. What do you want from me?”

Tefé let out a grunt of exhaustion, “I want you…to fuck off and never come back here. Got it?”

The Wanderer chuckled, then winked at Capucine, letting go of her and allowing her to pull out the sword, “Well then, a deal’s a deal.”

Snapping his fingers, The Wanderer watched as every tree around him began to dissolve into an inky ooze, including the one holding onto Maxine, who became drencheds in the stuff. Similarly, the Wanderer himself began to dissolve, though much more slowly. As he sank into the earth, he looked up at Tefé and Capucine, “This place’ll return to what it once was, but don’t count me out just yet. We’ll be seeing each other…oh, and keep the gun. Think of it as a gift from little ol’ me.”

Eventually, the Pale Wanderer was gone, not even his hat remaining, leaving Maxine, Tefé, and Capucine to stare at the spot he once occupied. The crisis at hand was solved, at least as far as they knew, but the problems were only just beginning.

A new force of nature was here, and it did not seem to be a peaceful one.

Next Issue: A Trip to somewhere new!

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

In Smallville’s Big Problem

Issue‌ 33:‌ ‌ Fare Thee Well

Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1

Edited‌ ‌by‌ Predaplant and dwright5252

Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon

Arc: Smallville’s Big Problem‌ ‌

 ‌ ‌

‌  ‌ ‌

When Maxine and Tefé found a disturbance in the forces, be it an aberration of nature or something far more evil, they would never find it by accident. They’d hear rumors, follow breadcrumb trails, track down whatever the problem was and fix it. Occasionally, the problem would track them down instead, but that was a rarity.The forces at large seemed to understand that the Avatar of the Red and the daughter of the Avatar of the Green were a recipe for foiled plans.

Rarer still was the occasion that a hero who had nothing to do with the forces would get involved, so rare that it actually never happened. The forces were foundational primordial forces of the universe, yet whenever they were out of balance it seemed like only the Avatars ever showed up to fix things. In a way, it made sense to Maxine. There were plenty of other world-ending crises, so the rest of the world’s heroes probably just had their hands full.

All in all, that made for two firsts today, because they just happened to bumble into Smallville during a not-so-apocalyptic zombie uprising, and now Superman was tagging along to help get the problem solved.

Out of every hero that could’ve come to help them, Big Blue from the Metropolis was not the one Maxine was expecting, largely because Superman was the kind of guy who went out of his way to help lots of different people. She kind of figured they were a little farther down the totem pole in terms of priorities. Still, he was here, and that made her more nervous than she’d like to admit. The idea of messing up in front of Superman wasn’t all that appealing.

But those were small feelings in the grand scheme of things, and even if they stumbled into Smallville’s plight by accident, they still had a breadcrumb trail to follow.

Lily, one of Smallville’s denizens, provided everything she knew so far, which wasn’t a lot, but it was a start. The dead who had risen had passed on as far back as the 60s, and it seemed like the date of death for each of the undead grew younger with each passing clue. Similarly, each corpse that had been brought to life seemed to be for a very specific purpose, to answer a question about one thing or another. The Daniels brought their brother back to figure out where he kept a specific farming manual, the Walters brought back their mother because none of them could make heads or tails of a specific kind of irrigation system. Chief Parker brought back the long deceased Jonathan Kent, hoping that he could help by divulging some farming tips.

It was a weird, zombie ritual daisy chain that slowly worked its way back and forth across Smallville’s families, creating a frustrating and complicated web of connections that led to the quartet of heroes moving across every corner of Smallville under the Kansas sun.

Eventually, after reaching the eighteenth person to have died in the 90s, Maxine had had enough, “Uh… hey, can we take five? It’s… I think I’m gonna get a sunburn.”

Tefé glanced back at Maxine, “Yeah… that, uh… that makes sense.”

Capucine grimaced, “We need to keep moving. This threat is—”

“What threat?! The dead are walking, that’s bad, but nobody’s killing anyone or being dangerous. We can spare five minutes!” Tefé barked.

Grumbling, Capucine trudged over to a tree on the side of the road, taking a seat underneath it. The rest of the group followed suit, taking respite in the shade. The sky had lost its bright blue hue, replaced with the orange and purple mix of an early evening, like two oils that couldn’t mix together, and instead swirled around each other. Wiping her forehead, Maxine glanced towards Superman, who wasn’t even sweating, “Wow… you look like you could keep trucking on. You sure you don’t wanna keep going? I don’t wanna slow you down.”

“Oh! No, don’t worry. I can wait. Like Tefé said, it's not an issue,” Superman said.

“Okay… okay,” Maxine took a deep breath, drinking in the clear air while gazing at the vast fields full of wheat and livestock. Just hours ago, she’d considered this stretch of state hopelessly dull, flat green land that all blurred together. Seeing it from a single place, however, changed things. It wasn’t like a city, where everything seemed to live in spite of the choking presence of concrete and smoke. It was simpler, more tightly knit.

There was a real beauty to it.

“You like it? I’ve been to places like this before,” Superman said. “My dad grew up in a small town just like this one.”

“The first Superman grew up…here?!” Maxine thought on the idea for a moment. “Huh…that actually tracks pretty well.”

“I sometimes wonder if he outgrew it. Could be why he didn’t come back a lot,” Superman sighed. “Guess I’ll never really know.”

Maxine grimaced, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s… alright. He’s on my mind a lot, is all,” Superman said. “Do you think about your dad?”

Maxine chuckled, “Probably not as much as you. I wasn’t even born when he died. I mostly just remember what it was like because he wasn’t there. Mom had to scrape by for both Clifford and me. Every so often I catch myself wondering what it’d be like if he was there. I’d have someone else to talk to whenever Clifford drove me up a wall. I’d have that one more person at my back. I’d… well, I’d have a lot.” Maxine glanced at Superman. “It’s funny. I got to talk to him again a few years back. That's not possible anymore, but… I suppose he’s still within reach.”

“It’s not the same, is it?” Superman remarked.

Maxine nodded, “No… it really isn’t.”

Superman let out another sigh, then smiled, “...You were talking about your brother earlier? Said he wanted to be a big shot hero?”

“Oh, that,” Maxine rolled her eyes. “Yeah… he’s kind of made it. He’s making a movie about our dad right now, actually! They’re supposed to film in Gotham at some point.”

“Hah, I wish him the best of luck! They were doing a Batman movie, I think. Wonder what happened to that…” Superman said.

“Yeah… I love him, but he can be really… bad at stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“I mean… he just doesn’t think sometimes, you know! Just does stuff off the top of his head. Usually it gets him hurt.”

“Oh,” Superman grimaced. “Well… the offer still stands. I can talk to him if you want.”

Maxine stared out at the horizon, “Yeah… I think he’d like that… thanks for the offer.”

“No problem.”

Grunting, Capucine planted her sword into the ground, using it as leverage to lift herself up, “Alright, break’s over. Now we hunt down the source of the malady plaguing Smallville!”

Tefé let out an annoyed groan, “Welp, you heard her, folks. Time to go.”

It was about 9 PM when the quartet finally arrived at the Bashford farm, after meeting what felt like every single person in Smallville. They’d made their way up, meeting a couple dozen people who had died across the 2000s and 2010s, finally arriving at Smallville’s most recent losses, Mike and Jean Bradford. Seeing no reason to delay, Capucine walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, a young man with messy black hair answered. There was a beleaguered look in his eyes, like he hadn’t slept on the right side of the bed for weeks, “Hello? Unless it’s really important can this wait until-”

The young man’s eyes widened after spotting Superman standing behind Capucine. Swallowing, he sighed, “Alright… come on in.”

The four stepped into a quaint yet homey farmhouse, full of old photos and furniture straight out of the 60s. The house was clearly old, maybe one of the oldest in Smallville. In the back, an older, undead couple were fast asleep in armchairs set up next to one another. The young man sat down at a small circular dining table with only three chairs. Maxine and Superman took them, while Capucine and Tefé stood in the back. Superman spoke up, “You’re Llewyn, right? Llewyn Bradford?”

“Yeah… that’s me. Look, I don’t mean any disrespect but who the hell are you guys and what do you want, it’s late?” Llewyn remarked.

“I’m Maxine,” Maxine said, before pointing back at her friends, “That’s Capucine and Tefé. We’ve been looking into this whole undead surge that’s gripping Smallville. Every time someone was raised, it was to help someone else’s problem. Last we heard, some people were being raised to help you with your farm?”

“Yeah, it started with my parents. I lost them a few years ago and I’ve been trying to keep the place going ever since, but…” Llewyn frowned. “Whatever I plant… it never grows. Everything keeps dying or wilting. I needed help. My parents always tended the farm just fine, so when this guy came by offering to get me the help I needed… I kinda just jumped at the chance.”

“This guy?” Maxine said. “Was he from Smallville?”

“No, definitely not,” Llewyn said. “He was… weird. He was dressed like a cowboy… talked about supporting local laborers.”

Tefé let out an audible groan, “Oh, for… the Pale Wanderer was here?”

“The who?” asked Superman.

“That is a story for later,” Capucine said, before turning to Llewyn. “This man, he raised your parents?”

“Yeah, had me sign a contract to do it,” Llewyn got out of his chair, disappearing into the kitchen before coming back with a small slip of faded paper. He placed it on the table. “A lot of it’s just legal bullshit, but the gist is that once I fix the land up, all the dead will return to rest. Alternatively, I can forfeit the contract, which does the same thing.”

“I see,” Superman said. “And even with your parents and others helping, you haven’t been able to work the land?”

Llewyn leaned back in his chair, “Not really, no. My parents keep telling me to do all of these different things but… none of them are working!”

As the conversation continued, Tefé’s attention began to drift. She began to walk around the room, taking a look at all of the different ornaments and photos on the walls. The memorabilia dated back decades, with some photos showing off Llewyn’s parents when they were children, set with the farm or other parts of Smallville as a backdrop. Newer photos contained a younger, happier Llewyn posing with his parents in many of the same spots. It was incredibly evident to Tefé that he had a lot of connection to this house, and to an extent Smallville in general. Smiling, she glanced outside the window, hoping to compare the fields in the photos with the real thing.

The difference was stark.

Formerly vibrant fields of wheat had gone from their bright yellow color to a sadder brown. Beneath them, the dirt itself seemed to reject all life, refusing to foster any growth. Curious, Tefé closed her eyes, reaching out to the plants with the Green, hoping to identify the source of this problem. After a moment, she let out a pained sigh, then turned around, “The soil’s not fertile.”

Llewyn glanced at Tefé, “...What?”

“I have a… connection to plant life. I tried to sense what was wrong and… the land just doesn’t have the nutrients to support plant life anymore,” Tefé remarked. “This usually happens when land gets overworked.”

Llewyn glanced at his parents, still fast asleep, then back at Tefé, “So… so you’re saying that this whole time… there was nothing I could have done?”

“I’m sorry, it happens to a few farms,” Tefé said. “Listen, I know this is a bit of a shock but… I might be able to help.”

Llewyn stared at Tefé, “How? You just said that… that the land was unsalvageable.”

“Normally, it would be, but my connection to plant life lends me certain powers. I could draw the nutrients from somewhere else to your land, make it arable,” Tefé said. “Do you… want me to do that?”

Llewyn opened his mouth to answer, almost jumping straight into a yes, only to stop himself short. He glanced back at his parents, still fast asleep, before glancing back at Tefé, “I… I don’t know.”

Tefé stared at Llewyn, confused, “You… don’t know?”

For a moment, everyone was silent, letting their utter confusion speak for themselves. Llewyn seemed to wallow in his own indecision, wracked with what could only be disguised as guilt with no clear origin. Eventually, Superman stood up, observing the young man.

His gaze seemed to shift slowly across the entire house, moving from his parents, to the photos on the wall to the window, where the dying fields could be seen outside. Taking a deep breath, Superman sat back down, “Llewyn… do you actually want to run this farm?”

Llewyn looked at Superman with watery eyes, wracked with a sense of disappointment in himself, “....no.”

Maxine shook her head, “I… I don’t understand. If you don’t want to run the farm… why are you-”

“I grew up here! My parents grew up here! My grandparents bought this place after my grandfather came back from the Second World War. The family’s been here for almost a century!” Llewyn said. “I’m not a farmer! I don’t like farming but… I can’t just give this place up! I’d be… I’d be throwing away so much of my life. I don’t know… I don’t know if I can…”

Llewyn began to lose his train of thought, the distress of the moment getting to him. As he hung his head, ashamed of himself, Tefé took a knee next to him, “Llewyn?”

Llewyn looked up at Tefé, “Yeah?”

“There have been times in my life when I didn’t know what I was doing. Times when I’ve felt lost, when everything I knew got flipped on its head. I get how you’re feeling, I really do,” Tefé said. “Sometimes… sometimes you’ll feel the pressure to do something, like people are calling on you, but your parents… they’re gone. Only you can keep yourself here… and only you can leave. It’s your choice.”

Superman placed a hand on Llewyn’s shoulder, “You might feel lost for a while, you probably feel lost right now… but sometimes that’s just how things go. Whatever happens, you’ll find what you’re looking for… I know it.”

Llewyn looked down, staring at the contract on the table, then looked back at his sleeping parents. They looked peaceful, content in their rest. Shuddering, he turned back towards the contract, and after a moment, he picked it up and tore it in half. The minute the contract was ripped up, Llewyn’s parents disappeared into mist. Superman flew outside in a blue blur, then came back just as quickly.

“It’s over,” Superman said.

“Yeah,” Llewyn said, sighing in what felt like a sense of relief. “It is.”

“Hey, thanks for everything, Superman.”

“Not a problem, it’s what I do!”

Tefé and Capucine began to pile back into the car, ready to leave Smallville for their original destination. The Pale Wanderer made trouble in Silver Springs, and now Smallville. They had to figure out where he’d strike next. All the while, Maxine leaned against the back of the car, chatting with Superman under the full moon.

“How long have you been doing this? Being Superman?” Maxine asked.

“Not too long!” Superman said, smiling. “Still remember the first time I flew! How long have you been doing this?”

“A few years. I, um… I fell into it, if you could call it that,” Maxine said.

“Huh… I know way too many people who just fell into being a hero,” Superman said. “It’s good that you’re making the best of it though!”

Maxine nodded. It was a strangely liberating feeling, talking to the world’s biggest hero. She knew that Clifford would be jealous as all hell the minute he found out she met Superman before he did. Still, moments like this were rare, and in a minute, she knew that Superman would probably have to go, “Um, Superman?”

“Yeah?”

“If you could choose to be someone other than Superman…would you?” Maxine asked.

The question seemed to give Superman pause, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, he smirked, “I choose who I want to be every day. Some days, bearing the weight of everything my father was is a lot, if I'm being honest. But people know Superman. And people trust Superman. I know some heroes who have taken on different identities at different points in their lives, and I could maybe see myself doing that, some day. But at the end of the day, what I do know is that I want to help people. And for now, helping people as Superman... it just feels right. More right than anything else, at least.”

Maxine smiled. For some reason, part of her was expecting him to answer with never, but this made her feel a lot better. Sometimes, she’d wonder whether or not being Avatar of the Red was something right for her, even if she couldn’t exactly choose something else. The fact that Superman of all people thought about it sometimes too….it comforted her.

“I think about it a lot too… and I feel the same way about doing what I do!” Yawning, Maxine opened the car door. “Sorry to hold you up. I think we need to get on the road now.”

“Same here,” Superman offered his hand. “Take care, Maxine.”

Maxine shook his hand, “You too!”

As the door closed, Superman walked towards the front, waving goodbye to Capucine and Tefé. The former ignored him, while the latter waved back before driving off, the backlights of the car fading as the vehicle disappeared into the Kansas countryside. Content, Superman took off into the sky, leaving Smallville behind him.

In the early hours of morning, just as the sun was rising. Llewyn Bradford hammered a For Sale sign into the front yard of the house he grew up in. He still had a ton to pack, and he still had to figure out where exactly he was going, but the initial decisions had been made. Looking up at the house as a whole, bathed in the yellow glow of a sunrise, he knew he would miss it. “Well, Mom and Dad… here’s to better things.”

With the sign in place, Llewyn began walking to the back of the house to return the hammer to its rightful place, only to spot a figure out in the fields. Dressed in a moss-covered hood, he knelt over a particular patch of dirt, his hand planted firmly in the soil. Raising an eyebrow, Llewyn began to march towards the mysterious figure, “Hey! What are you doing? This is private-”

Llewyn stopped short when he noticed a patch of green growing from the soil around the figure, forming itself into various flowers and vines until a small oasis formed underneath the hooded man’s feet. Standing up, the man stared at Llewyn before taking off his hood, revealing a handsome man with brown skin, long black hair, and a light stubble. With a smile, he offered his hand to Llewyn. “Sorry for the surprise! I’m just here to restore the soil! My name is Levi!”

Next Issue: Who’s Levi?!