Adventures of Superguy

August 19, 2010 - The Tower of Fate

Destiny

20:59:30

“I want that helmet and I want it now!” Klarion shrieked as he hurled fistfuls of burning crimson energy at the golden dome shielding Connor, the Helmet, and the body of the late Kent Nelson. Each fireball exploded as it impacted with the shield, and it made a screeching like a record player needle skipping. The sound set Connor’s teeth on edge. He glanced at the cane, levitating in the middle of the doom and saw it was burning like an inverse candle. A golden flame licked at the bottom and each time Klarion blasted the shield, the flame climbed higher and consumed more of the cane.

We don’t have a lot of time… he thought and looked at Walli as she picked herself up off the roof of the Tower of Fate and charged at Klarion again. This time, the cat hissed a warning to its master and Klarion spun around, breathing crimson flames from his mouth along the ground and forcing her to cut away. He kept up the stream, leaving a wall of crimson flames that backlit him hellishly. Walli was forced to retreat again, cringing away from the infernal heat. 

Klarion snickered and turned his attention back to Connor and the Helmet. He spread his arms and a circle of mystical symbols erupted around him, casting some new spell. Red lightning crackled between his hands, growing thicker and broader until he raised his clawed hands to the sky. The lightning formed a matching pair of massive clawed hands, several yards long, and they mimicked Klarion’s own as he brought them crashing down on the dome. The shield shrieked in protest and Connor shrank back as he saw the tips of the claws penetrate. 

The Witch Boy grinned cruelly, his black eyes shining with the hellish light and he began to pull, the mystical appendages following their master’s pantomime and stretching the dome apart, slowly. The cane’s flame crawled up past the halfway point and the noise the shield made didn’t fill Connor with confidence. Walli was being driven back towards the parapet as the infernal wall of fire advanced toward her, rapidly running out of room. Connor looked desperately at her, then back at the Helmet, weighing his options.

“Hey, Superguy!” Klarion shouted, clearly distracted by maintaining his spell. “You put that thing on, you may never get it off!”

Connor’s eyes narrowed.

Shit, he might be right… He’s also a demonic Lord of Chaos trying to steal the Helmet, so why should I listen to him? But then again…

Black Canary had mentioned Nelson hadn’t been Dr. Fate since WW2, and Connor had a good idea about why. He clenched his fists, glancing at Klarion.

I can take him. He’s a sorcerer, just gotta grab him and not give him a chance for any more spells. I’ll go the second he breaks the shield. Gotta try to use the superspeed.

He crouched low, like a sprinter, eyeing the cane and trying to ignore the awful racket the shield made as Klarion worked to sunder it. The Witch Boy saw him preparing and his grin only grew wider. Doubt filled Connor at Klarion’s confidence.

Then Walli cried out and distracted him.

She charged the encroaching wall of flames and it turned solid, rebuffing her and burning her as she crashed back against the parapet. She rolled desperately, trying to smother the flames that licked her clothes, clutching at her burns. 

Connor’s heart fell into his stomach as he saw Klarion turn his attention to her, like a cat having smelled a mouse. At that moment, Connor realized what he had to do. He reached out and grasped the cool metal.

“Gotta have faith, I guess…”

The Helmet of Fate brought a suffocating darkness as he slid it on.

********

Connor didn’t blink, but he was somewhere else now. 

Somewhere strange, yet familiar.

Glass windows and doors framed an airy lobby with comfortable seating all around. Children’s books and toys scattered across low tables, and a large reception desk dominated the wall opposite the entranceway. A bright, sunny day shone through windows, which contrasted with the late night he had just left. 

A feeling of trepidation swept over him as he realized where he was, and he shuddered.

The hospital…  he thought, grimly. 

The familiar lobby of Boston Children’s Hospital lay before him, but it was empty of people. Of doctors, receptionists, nurses fetching parents and kids. There was nobody, which made it eerily quiet. Connor looked to the double doors that led further into the hospital, then looked to the entranceway. 

It looked like any other summer day in Boston. Like he could just walk up to those doors, and they’d whoosh open, and he’d be back home. But he knew, even as he considered it, that is not what would happen. The doors wouldn’t open, the sidewalk outside was just a figment. Only the hospital was real here. He sighed, and turned back to the double doors.

They opened automatically, as they always did, silently swinging open wide enough for several people to walk abreast. The antiseptic white linoleum floors clashed with the colorful wall murals and color coded directional signs to show visitors the right path at a glance. The overhead lights were as harsh as ever, replacing the warm sunshine in the lobby. Connor trudged the familiar path. He didn’t need to glance at a sign to know the route to the oncology ward.

He passed empty room after empty room. Doctor’s offices and nurses’ stations were all similarly empty. No visitors or janitors crossed his path. It should have felt strange, but for some reason, it didn’t. Nobody should be here. That felt right. He could search every room and corridor, and he wouldn’t find anybody else.

It had been designed that way.

He passed what had once been Jeremy’s room, and paused to stare into the empty hospital room. His gaze fell on the bed, and the neatly folded and pressed sheets. No one had lain there before, or ever would. It didn’t hold his friend anymore.

The real room didn’t hold Jeremy anymore, either.

As he looked through the room, he mentally inventoried it, and knew what it contained. The bed contained implanted memories of Terra’s geopolitical map, and as he looked at it, a representation of that map hung in the air. It wasn’t unlike the Cave’s holographic displays, but it wasn’t a translucent hologram. It looked like a real paper map, and Connor noted with bemusement that it contained different borders than he was familiar with, and different countries. He ran down the list of the ones he realized were different on Terra.

United States of Columbia, Boravia, the Union of Sino-Soviet Republics, Bialya, Markovia, Khandac, Jharampur, North and South Rhelasia…

Some of them had become familiar to him, others still seemed bizarre. He recognized one or two from the comics, though the map seemed odd with how familiar borders shifted to accommodate them. He dismissed the construct, and turned away from the room. 

Every detail of this place was perfectly preserved in his memory. It even smelled the same, of clean linen and antiseptic. But he knew it wasn’t real. He was trying to remember why that was, when he came to his room. It was the only one he had seen with any individual decorations up. Jeremy’s had been stripped bare, but on the table were a stack of his comics, two familiar coats were draped over the backs of chairs on opposite sides of the room, and taped to the window was a familiar piece of paper. 

Connor entered the room with a weighty breath, feeling the burden settle on his shoulders. He ignored the bed, refusing to look at it, even though no body lay in it. He marched over to the window, and peeled the tape off the corners of the drawing, turning it over to see what was drawn there.

It was just as he remembered drawing it. The crimson S, a black field to contrast it better, and a golden yellow border to tie it together. The shield as it had appeared in the first Superman cartoon serials, and he had always liked it best. The black gave it gravitas, he thought. The steelworkers had only painted the red S shield, though. No appreciation for the nuances.

Using that for his costume shirt had definitely helped set him apart from Superwoman.

I wonder if she’ll ever realize I swiped the trademark on her emblem? I suppose it doesn’t matter, now…

“Well, this is cozy.”

Connor startled and spun around to see a grinning Kent Nelson, still in his dapper suit, leaning on his cane in the doorway.

“Dr- Mr. Nelson! You… you’re not dead!” Connor shouted, pointing at the centenarian sorcerer.

Nelson inclined his head to the side, still smiling as he met Connor’s gaze and gave him a moment to think it over. As Connor did, his excitement fell and he realized the truth once more.

“Oh. You are. Dead, I mean. Damn.” He finished awkwardly, crestfallen.

“It appears I’m not the only one.” Nelson stated as he waltzed past Connor and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. Connor almost said something, but thought better of it. He paced away, still not looking at the bed. Then he froze, turning back to the old man.

“You… you know?”

Nelson smiled and waved his cane around to indicate their surroundings.

“Of course I know. We’re inside a representation of your soul, kid. Though it is doing double duty by replicating your mind palace on the astral plane, which is impressive. Most people’s souls can’t do something like that, since they’ve never really flexed their spiritual muscles before.” Nelson explained with a grin, before he continued. “Because most people have never been just a soul before. That tends to only happen when you bite the big one, or something truly strange and unfortunate happens to you.”

Connor stared slack jawed at the elderly mystic as he casually threw around existential concepts that undermined much of his world view.

Or ‘worlds view’, I guess…

Connor ran his palm down his face as he processed what he was being told.

“So… I’m a soul right now? Does that mean I’m dead?”

Nelson laughed and gestured for calm.

“Kid, you were already dead. Now you’re alive, and you’re still alive. I’m the one who’s dead, dead.” He stated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Then how are you here? In my soul?” Connor asked.

“I said we’re in a representation of your soul.” He corrected, poking Connor with the end of his cane. “You are your soul, in more ways than one. But as for where we are; we’re inside the Helmet of Fate. Nabu’s taking your body for a joyride so he can defeat Klarion and save your little redheaded gal.”

“Uh, she’s not, I mean, we’re just friends…” Connor awkwardly explained as he began to turn red, much to Nelson’s amusement.

“Believe me, kid, I know all about how you’re friends. I got an eyeful parsing through the contents of your mind palace when you put on the Helmet.” Nelson explained with a twinkle in his eye, which only made Connor desperately wish he was actually dead at that moment. Nelson laughed at his discomfort.

“But I thought we should have a little chat about you and your circumstances before we get to that.” Nelson said, suddenly serious. He patted the bed beside him, but as soon as Connor took a step to sit beside him, he quailed and dragged the chair holding his father’s coat over to face the sorcerer. Nelson gave him a small, sad nod, before continuing.

“I’ll admit, I took a look through everything. As soon as I set eyes on you in the Tower, I knew you were different, son. I couldn’t have guessed how different, but now I know.” He said with a distant look in his eyes. 

“Do you know how I got here?” Connor asked, trembling at whatever answer was forthcoming.

“I don’t, but I can make some inferences.” Nelson said with compassion, leaning forward to put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “As you figured out, you did die. I can see the mark on your soul. I know in your comic books that people die and come back all the time, but as you might have guessed from our little parting before… it doesn’t usually work like that in real life, here.”

Connor’s face fell.

“So, you’re not coming back?”

“No, I’m not. I wouldn’t want to, even if I could. I’ve lived a long time, and the people I love have already preceded me. I’m ready to move on, and be reunited with them.” Nelson said sadly, but with a note of comforting hope.

Connor’s hands clenched together as he leaned over, elbows on his knees and head down.

“Is that… what happens? It didn’t happen to me. Unless this is supposed to be heaven.”

“Ha, I know you’ve thought that a few times. No, your circumstances are different from mine. I’m here, now, because my soul was passing on. But I’ve spent so long connected with the Helmet and its master, I got sucked in along with you.” 

Connor’s head snapped up in anxious worry to look at Nelson, but the old sorcerer waved his hands dismissively.

“Its alright, son, its not your fault. It also doesn’t matter, in the long run. I’ll still get where I’m going, and I have all the time in the world. You did what you had to, what I encouraged you to do. I wanted to swing by and give you some help on that front before I left, but we’ll get back to that.” Nelson explained, before sighing.

“You were reincarnated here on Terra. I’m not sure why. That’s not supposed to happen across universes, so I’m curious as to why it did. I thought I caught a whiff of something when I came in, but I lost the trail. So I don’t have all the answers for you.” 

Connor’s mind reeled as he tried to process the cosmological implications of all of that, but a thought arrested him.

“I was reincarnated? My soul came into this body? Did… did it already have a soul?” He asked warily, afraid of the answer.

Nelson shook his head as he leaned both hands on his cane again.

“No, it didn’t. I don’t know much about these Cadmus clowns or cloning, but whatever cockamamie science they used to create your body, it didn’t make a soul. Someone, or some thing, put your soul into this body. I haven’t the foggiest who, what or why, though. But its a damn good thing they did, both for you and the world at large. A living body, especially a half Kryptonian one, without a soul is an open door to all kinds of nasty things. Its an open invitation for them to come take up residence so they can manifest on the material plane. Normally, things like a Lord of Chaos, like Klarion, can’t manifest on the material without an anchor. A soulless body would be the perfect vessel for something… terrible.” Nelson stated darkly, and Connor shuddered at the thought.

“But thankfully, whoever or whatever is responsible, put you in place. A nice second chance for you, and a vessel for eldritch powers hanging up a ‘No Vacancies’ sign. Two birds, one stone!” Nelson laughed, treating a fantastical but deadly serious topic like a joke. 

Connor breathed out explosively as he ran his fingers through his hair. He felt more certain and less certain at the same time.

“So I’m good? This is my life now? Nobody is gonna pull the rug out from under me and I’m gonna wake back up in that bed?” He asked, pleadingly.

Nelson met his gaze, and gave him a slow and measured nod.

“This is it, for real, son. You get a second chance. And I gotta say, you deserve it.” He said kindly.

Guilt gnawed at Connor, and he cast his gaze toward the door and the many empty rooms down the hall. He thought of all the names and faces he remembered who were gone now.

“So did they…” He whispered, feeling like he was betraying them somehow.

“And maybe they got the same deal.” Nelson stated flatly, and Connor looked back at him. The sorcerer met his gaze with resolve in his clear blue eyes. “You don’t know where they are going. Everyone on this journey has to take this step alone. Its scary, but you’ll get through it. Everyone does.” He said with finality.

Connor put his head back down and processed all he was being told. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. Many fears and shames seemed to leave with it. He nodded, before raising his head.

“Okay.” He stated, meeting Nelson’s gaze. The old man looked deep into him, and nodded at what he saw.

“The how and why still bug me…” Connor asked, and Nelson shrugged in response.

“I can’t answer that, unfortunately. I don’t know a spell to list out your new origins or all the mad malarkey those Cadmus clowns were up to. You’ll have to find those answers for yourself.” He replied, then fixed Connor with another serious stare.

“There’s also the little fib you told the Justice Guild, and your friends.”

Connor’s gut squirmed with guilt anew, and he rubbed his face.

“I… I couldn’t tell them the truth. It was too much. Too much to admit to, too much to explain all at once. If I had, I’d STILL be explaining it all to them. And I don’t have answers for so much of it.” Connor confessed.

Nelson listened, and sighed.

“I know, son. It's a heavy burden. But what you have in your head, and what’s in those over there-” Nelson waved at the pile of comics on the table. “Are worth more than you know. Yes, you know things about them, and me, that you’re afraid to admit to. But you also know about things that will happen, or may happen. You have seen possible futures for this world. You could do a lot of good with that.”

Connor froze as he realized what Nelson was saying. 

Holy shit, I’ve never really thought about it like that. It’s like…

“...a prophecy.” He muttered, staring into space. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nelson nod sagely.

“Let me tell ya, kid, prophecies and divinations are a crapshoot. If they’re bad, they’re worse than useless and you run around trying to do things that don’t matter to stop things that were never gonna happen in the first place. If they’re good, that’s even worse. They’re a straight jacket you can’t get out of, no matter what you do. But you’ve got something better; echoes of possibilities from another universe. I think its worth pursuing; think of the nut in Santa Prisca in the luchador mask. You knew her, and even Robin had no idea who she was.”

Connor nodded, stroking his chin. The possibilities were enormous.

“But!” Nelson objected, raising a finger. “You have to be careful with this, son. You wouldn’t be the first true believer driven crazy by their own prophecies. Always remember the future isn’t set in stone, but always changing. Know your limitations. You can’t solve everything before it happens, that way lies madness. So don’t try.” He ordered, sternly.

Once more, Connor nodded, his mind still agog at the opportunities to change things on Terra for the better. 

I could save… so many of them. Jason Todd, Superwoman, Sue Dibny… but can I? Even just warning them of worse things, like Brainiac and Darkseid, the War of Light…

He took a shuddering breath.

“There’s… a lot there.” He admitted. “I’m afraid. What if I screw up and make things worse?”

“Sometimes, son…” Nelson said as he put a hand on Connor’s shoulder and smiled warmly. “You just have to have faith.”

Renewed, Connor nodded again, chin in hand as he contemplated.

“But you’re going to have to tell your friends the truth, someday.” Nelson continued, and Connor’s head fell.

“I know, but… how?”

“I’m just a dead old coot, son. I don’t have all the answers. You got yourself into this mess, you have to figure the way out.” Nelson answered, throwing up his hands. In a more serious tone, he continued. “But you have to tell them, sooner rather than later. Lies like that just make things worse, the longer they run and the more lies you tell to keep the plates spinning. You have to trust your friends to give you the grace needed, if they’re really your friends. I know you didn’t do it out of malice, and I think they’ll see that eventually. You can’t build a relationship or a team without trust. Especially with the redhead.” He finished with a laugh.

Connor blushed again and protested.

“Look, Walli and I are just friends, we already talked about it. I’m not ready for something like that right now.”

Nelson fixed with a knowing look that just went on and on, and left Connor confused. It must have shown, because the old man just sighed, and drew his pocket watch to look at the picture in the clasp once more. He spoke after contemplating it for a moment.

“Let me tell you a little story. About how I discovered the Helmet of Fate, and came to serve Nabu as its host. I had the weight of the world on my shoulders; sorcerers and monsters and crooks popping up every week. I was the only hero I knew of, so I had to handle it all. There was so much to do, and never enough time. I had already met Inza, but I kept the truth from her. Then the war came, and we were apart for so long. But when it was over, she came back from her service and me from mine. She wanted to settle down, make an honest man out of me. But I hadn’t told her the truth about Dr. Fate. I couldn’t tell her, I’d been lying to her for so long. To protect her, and the world.” He said wistfully, his eyes never straying from the portrait.

“She told me, ‘Kent, there will always be things only you can do. Things you can’t share. But there’s too much madness in the world to not try for something better, for us. You deserve a chance at peace and happiness, too. If not for you, then what did we do all that fighting for?’” 

A single tear ran down Nelson’s aged face as he repeated those words, and Connor’s heart ached for the man. Then he realized.

“She knew…” 

“She did. Turns out, its hard to keep the fact that you spend your nights fighting crooks and creeps in a union suit from the person you live with.” Nelson said, with a smile. “But she was right. I had done enough. Nabu raged, but I put the Helmet down, and I didn’t pick it back up until tonight. I learned more sorcery than I thought I ever would, made a fake helmet, kept my hand in, and made sure the bubbling cauldrons of witches and warlocks didn’t boil over. I had thought that I couldn’t put down the Helmet, because something would come along and doom the world. But all these years, it didn’t.” Nelson finished, closing the pocket watch finally.

“Until tonight.” Connor replied, staring into the middle distance.

“But then you and your friends showed up. Let that be a lesson to you, son.” Nelson said, standing and clapping Connor on the shoulder again. “Find a good woman or three, listen to her advice, and learn to get by with a little help from your friends.”

Connor stood to match him, and Nelson led them over to the window.

“Now, let’s see what Nabu’s up to with your body. He has a tendency to drive ‘em like he stole ‘em.” Nelson said and tapped the glass with the head of his cane, and suddenly Connor saw something else out the window.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!