New Gods

New Genesis, a celestial jewel suspended amidst the Sphere of the Gods.

High above the surface of the archetypal planet was the Celestial City, known as Supertown, floating gracefully. It stood as a sanctuary separating the noble denizens of New Genesis from the primal forces and enigmatic Bug People dwelling below. Its ethereal architecture seemed to defy gravity, a harmonious blend of intricate design and otherworldly technology.

However, after eons of war, the planet had begun to deteriorate slightly. The gleam of Supertown was beginning to wear. The divine beauty became almost human.

Weak.

So, so weak.

Destroying it had been no issue. It took perhaps six hours to slaughter their mainland defences and breach the royal palace. A zone of colossal magic and divine energy, penetrated by his minions like butter.

The Council of Eight, the finest of the New Gods, remained. They fought till their last breath. As expected for gods of their calibre; they were the highest generals for a reason. Some were not in New Genesis at all, so the invasion was purposely slowed down in order to bring the totality of the Council.

They didn't even know it. They didn't know they were falling into a trap.

Bekka, a warrior and a member of the Sinestro Corps. Her finger donned the yellow ring of fear as well as two readily made blades. She was powerful and versatile. As the goddess of love, she commanded armies with her abilities.

To see her enter the Sphere of the Gods with the confidence of a protagonist and fail was mesmerizing.

The Gentry–HIS Council–were their antithesis. For Bekka, it was Demogorgunn, the manifestation of the evil horde archetype villain. An endless army of enemies swarmed Bekka. Pinkish, faceless enemies that would never stop spawning no matter how many times she slashed.

Her constructs fell. Her blades broke.

Bekka lost and was consequently captured deep within Demogorgunn.

Hyalt, the smith of the New Gods, and Lightray, the speedster. The two of them were faced with Dame Merciless, the archetype of the femme fatale taken to the ****. She was the invader of dreams, arts, and vision. Anything you looked at, once Dame Merciless took hold of it, became an engine of despair.

Hyalty and Lightray were no different.

They started slaughtering their own men in a fit of despair.

Many died. Many didn't know what to do. Hyalt burned with cosmic fire underneath his skin and his armour was a mobile forge. He was indeed worthy to be called the god of smiths, but here, under the control of the Dame Merciless, he was merely a volcano that burned his own allies and friends.

Lightray, the fun-loving god and best friend to Orion. With weapons forged from his despaired comrade, he sliced and diced his own kind. He cried and sobbed as he did it.

Dame Merciless was hideous. Her figure might have resembled something close to a deformed woman but on the inside she was the bringer of despair.

Shadowfall, an archer and general. A woman who was on the frontlines in battles against Apokolips. Hellmachine, the mindless brute beast of the Gentry, killed her. It was as simple as that. There was no heaven for her, no afterlife. She was removed from existence.

The purple multi-eyed monster was as generic as they came. Yet the putrid, disgusting smell emanating from him told otherwise. He was powerful. He was unbeatable. He was a machine of mindless strength.

The most amusing was Uggha, the most loyal of the Council. Old yet powerful, the Gentry to defeat him was Lord Broken. His name was not a play or an exaggeration. He was truly the lord of breaking wills. The representation of madness, like Arkham Asylum, taken to the limit. A twisted mind housed in a twisted body.

Once captured inside Lord Broken, a creature literally the shape of Arkham Asylum, Uggha turned into a slimy, tongue-betraying New God. He told every secret and fear of his.

Not that it mattered.

To penetrate the shields of the palace of the High-Father, the evil genius archetype stepped in. Intellectron, capable of twisting and distorting reality and magic alike, destroyed the palace and its defences with ease.

Inside was the strongest warrior of the New Gods. The great, infallible Orion. The final member of the Council of Eight. The one destined to kill Darkseid or they say.

Intellectron was a single-eyed bat creature ten times the size of an ordinary human. He dwarfed Orion like he was nothing. Intellectron was what some would consider to be the god of destruction.

"My destiny is battle, monster! I wield the mighty power of the astro-****. It is a grim and fearful responsibility and I will NOT lose to the likes of you!!!"

The yellow eye of the bat razed down the walls with its immense black lasers. Orion ducked and rolled, his immense fist glowing in the Astro ****, a mighty metaphysical energy source that utilized the fury of the Source.

One punch was enough to make Intellectron blink.

So he sent another hundred thousand, each causing catalyst shockwaves capable of wiping a universe.

In the blink of an eye, Orion pummelled the bat until the massive eye was a mash of blood and bones. The rage in his eyes could destroy worlds with a single glance. All that rage, all that blood, dripped in the strength of his fist and concentrated at Intellectron.

Then his gaze swept towards the entity responsible for the invasion.

He who stood and watched his minion die. He who watched while cackling. He who talked with a smile on his face. He who lived after the Dark Crisis. He who was responsible for the Multiversity.

"As readers, I'm sure you guys know nothing about New Genesis. I mean seriously, does anybody care? Does DC care? Fuck no. The last time you saw Orion was in Final Crisis and that's assuming you read comics. I bet you didn't. So…"

Orion, capable of going toe-to-toe against a Kryptonian. Orion, capable of fighting Olympian Gods. Orion, capable of overwhelming an entire Lantern Corps.

Orion, who flew at the enemy boss with the power of a thousand burning suns yet was stopped with a single move. A hand to the face that slammed him into the ground of the divine palace.

BAM!

Another slam.

BAM!

Another.

BAM!

Within the gripping darkness of his hand was the aforementioned warrior. The hero of the New Gods. The pinnacle of strength.

He raised Orion closed as he whispered.

"Irrelevant."

His helmet was torn, revealing his handsome, chiselled face. Marred by blood, bruises, and righteous fury, it turned into the ultimate expression of **** as his enemy taunted him.

"Seriously, you're so fucking weak. For the son of Darkseid, you sure don't live up to the hype. You've even got your own convoluted backstory! It's amazing!"

Orion spat in his face. It didn't really work as he was an entity not entirely formed of matter. His ball of saliva and blood phased past him. The enemy laughed.

"What do you know about Darkseid?" Orion asked, jaw clenching. "Nothing! You know nothing!"

"Nothing?" He laughed and dropped him. With no energy left in his body, Orion lay there, glaring up at the superior entity. "I know nothing about Darkseid? Heh. Hahaha! Hahahahahahahah!"

Orion slammed a fist into the ground. The New God should have been capable of so much more. He should have been capable of wiping a universe with that fist. Instead, his glove-torn fist did nothing. He was weak and powerless, drained of his might. "What is so amusing!?"

"I KILLED Darkseid!"

The echoes of laughter continued and Orion's expression turned to horror. The palace faded and all around him was destruction. The once regal Celestial City was destroyed. Buildings toppled, people crushed and killed, and the magic enforcing its separation from below began to break.

The Gentry…although he had managed to kill one, the rest had defeated his allies. He could see it. Their defeat. Their losses.

Bekka, kidnapped, stripped, and defeated within a creature of endless entities–Demogorgunn.

Hyalt and Lightray–killing their own people under misguided screams and despair.

Shadowfall…only her bow remained.

While Uggha…his screams of insanity pierced the heavens.

The world started to tilt. Tears formed at the corner of Orion's eye. Celestial City was falling. Falling, falling, falling…

"No!"

A single staff, a single ray of hope, struck the ground. Like an echo, its lights engulfed the floating city and blessed it with newfound strength. Celestial City froze. It stood.

It stopped falling.

The great calamity smirked and turned back. Only one creature in New Genesis could be responsible for magic of this level.

The Highfather Izaya.

A bearded old man that looked to be an amalgamation of Zeus and Odin, he carried a golden staff that radiated with true power. The god among gods. The mightiest warrior and leader of New Genesis.

New Gods were not like the gods of old, like Zeus and Odin. No, no, New Gods were incredibly powerful living ideas and the Fourth World was actually an archetypal world of Platonic ideals: Mister Miracle was a physical representation of the idea of freedom, Darkseid of Evil, Orion of war, Lightray of joy…

And Highfather Izaya? He was good. An archetype that would pursue good no matter the cost.

"This city was built to be the ultimate civilization where Gods could come to realize their true potential! I will not and cannot allow you to let it submerge back into Genesis!" The end of Highfather's mighty long staff was pointed and beaming with a divine white cloak of energy. "What is your name, fiend?"

Applause. He gave the Highfather a condescending round of applause. "Congrats, you're the first person to ask me. I bet the readers are curious too. My name is Empty Hand."

"Empty Hand…!" The Highfather's blue eyes glowed white. From behind, Empty Hand could sense the rise of Orion. He laughed as Orion swung at him and hit the air.

Orion roared, "EMPTY HAND!!!!"

A duck, a swerve, and a block. The mighty Astro **** empowering Orion was nothing in Empty Hand's view.

"Look at you, big guy! I heard you needed your Astro Harness to channel the Astro ****." Empty Hand caught the might of God of Strength's fist. "I guess not, eh!?"

"Bastard, bastard! Shut UP!!!"

Empty Hand reappeared behind Highfather, a smirk etched on his face. White teeth on the swirling darkness that was his body. "Well, well, well. So this is the Alpha Effect. The opposite of Darkseid's Omega Effect. I believe your biological son Mister Miracle possesses this ability too. Not bad, not bad at all."

Applause again from Empty Hand. The New Gods did not respond.

"High-Father…" Orion drew a sharp deep breath. By the will of the white aura enveloping him, he healed. His helmet regenerated and the blood staining his skin dissipated. Only a single tear streak remained. "I…I am sorry…"

"Do not be, son." The Highfather stood firm with his staff. "As long as you and I are alive, New Genesis will live on."

A giant, horned, demon-esque creature. That was the Empty Hand. He was taller, stronger, and exuded darkness with every step.

He disappeared again.

"Be on the look out–" Orion's warning was immediately replaced with a cry of pain. Highfather Izaya glanced at his son and his eyes went wide.

"Your arm–"

"Behind you!"

Orion shoved his father to the side and intercepted a fist. The bones in his fist creaked at the strain but he stood his ground. Empty Hand smiled.

"Quick reflexes despite losing an arm." Orion's left limb had indeed disappeared right from the shoulder joint. "Good."

This time, he disappeared in a burst of black lightning. Orion did not understand. Empty Hand escaped his fist like it was nothing. Speed and distance didn't seem to matter.

The Alpha Effect took hold of Orion and Highfather. Heal, heal, heal. His arm had nearly returned. Highfather's eyes turned white from focus of the Alpha Effect while Orion carefully watched their surroundings.

A black zip of lightning materialized. Lightning that was defined by the motion of New Genesis. The Highfather stopped his healing midway and concentrated on the enemy's black streaks of lightning.

"The Speed ****," Highfather muttered. "But how…?"

"Gghha!"

Orion screamed again. His right arm had been yanked straight from his shoulder and blood flowed without pause.

Echoes suddenly came from everywhere. A taunting voice that worsened the agony.

"No arms! Wow, how is the god of strength gonna fight now? Wait, do you do enough leg day? Hm, maybe I should take those away too."

The ease in which Empty Hand said those words was too real. Empty Hand was fast. Too fast. He blinked between spaces as if time did not matter. His voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

"How are you doing this!?" Orion yelled, furious. "You are not worthy of the Speed ****. Not like my friends!"

"Indeed! So how pray tell did I manage to gain the Speed ****?" Empty Hand wagged a finger and clicked his tongue as if speaking to a child. Then he stared up into the darkened skies, chuckling. "What do you think, dear readers? What is my power? Use your brains for a second–the Chosen One can copy and paste. I should, logically speaking, possess a power that is opposite to that. What is it? Come on. Come on. Guess!"

"Fiend of the darkness, I know not who you speak to, but begone!"

Highfather's staff turned bright white and he raised it to the heavens. The light expanded and in the blink of an eye transformed into an explosion. A blast of the Alpha Effect that would incinerate all those that the Highfather would consider his enemies.

Celestial City shook and threatened to tip over and break.

As the light faded, there was only Orion's expression of disbelief and an empty hand through the heart of the Highfather.

"Y-you…!" Highfather coughed out blood. Empty Hand, still sharply lodged in him, spoke.

"If you had possessed the Genesisian Scepter, then maybe this battle would have gone differently," Empty Hand said, frowning. "To think you threw away the Life Equation and gave it to some human…how pathetic. You know, you had been going down the right path when you became like Darkseid. If you had sought for only power, I would have come for you later due to your power. But no. Instead, you became easy picking. You became weak, Izaya."

Through the Highfather's chest, the Empty Hand turned into a fist.

"The ideal of good dies today," Empty Hand said, "with you."

In front of Orion's very own eyes, the Highfather was no more, his body disintegrating into darkness.

Orion roared.

Rage engulfed him. He saw nothing but red. Magma of thick red energy spewed from every cell in his body. The royal palace of Celestial City, already a wasteland, turned hot and red. It was like he had transformed into the big bang, the very beginning of the universe, the very start of strength.

Red became white. Energy turned into the Astro ****. An ordinary creature would have melted at its touch. The Gentry, which were dispersed all over Celestial City, were launched away from the metaphysical ****. The archetypal god of strength was powerful and so was his rage. The entire planet quaked. The Sphere of the Gods trembled.

A calming white aura suddenly began to melt him, however. His blue eyes, which had been ignited by a bloody fury, simmered into calmness. "H-Highfather…?" Orion called out, feeling the Alpha Effect wash over him. "Are you telling me to–"

Splat!

"Sorry, he's not telling you anything."

Eyes wide, Orion glanced at the arm that had pierced his heart. Darkness laid in the limb. Emptiness.

"Let me answer my question from before: if the Chosen One is able to copy abilities by watching people live, then I must be the opposite. To steal abilities by watching people die. Thank you for the Astro ****, Orion. I'll be sure to make use of it, just like I did your daddy's ability. Both your daddys."

The light from Orion faded. Staring into the bleary darkness, he recalled his family and friends. Superman, Lightray, Highfather Izaya, and yes, even Darkseid. His destiny, his future, his part–all of it accumulated and flashed through his mind.

Before Orion was finally no more, before his head joined the rest of his body into the darkness, he asked, "Just what are you?"

What was he? He was Empty Hand–the representation of the reader's never ending desire for comics and fiction. A metaphysical entity using the minds of those beyond, those that read the very words written upon the canvas of the Overvoid, as a power source. The Empty Hand which escaped logic and could wipe archetypal ideas with a swipe of his hand.

As long YOU keep reading…

"Empty is my hand. That is all."

…he did not lose.

***

Avery Ho, the Flash of China. Nineteen years old and a member of the Justice League Incarnate, one of the fastest and youngest speedsters in the history of the multiverse.

Donned in a purple suit, Avery blitzed through the Speed **** like she always did, letting the electric thrill of it ripple through her every nerve. She had to admit—there was nothing quite like this freedom, this boundless speed. Plus, it was the only way for her to go home and clear her head. After all the missions, she was growing stressed and the only person that could help her relax was Wallace.

Although...maybe she was relaxing with him too much and the relaxation turned to tension. Her legs went faster.

Lately, it had been a bit cluttered, what with the whole having a massive crush on her best friend thing.

Wallace West, aka Kid Flash, was pretty much her favorite person in the world. She loved his goofy smile, his quick wit, and, well, the way he filled out that yellow and red suit wasn’t exactly bad, either. Not that she’d ever admit it outloud. Not yet, anyway.

She zipped past bolts of pure energy, flashes of old timelines, and even the occasional ripple of other speedsters’ energy—remnants of those who’d crossed the Speed **** before her. But then, out of the blue (or red, or purple; the Speed **** had a very "psychedelic space" vibe), she noticed something new up ahead. A streak of light, a blur of limbs.

Another speedster?

She squinted, trying to get a better look as she blazed closer. And, as she closed the gap, she realized…

Oh, oh no.

The mystery speedster was…uh…well, he was completely naked. Like, nothing but the wind and the Speed **** kind of naked.

And holy moly.

Avery’s cheeks went as red as her suit. The guy’s…well, let’s just say there was a lot of speed **** energy flopping around down there. It was as if Zeus himself had decided to pop out for a nude jog. Like, seriously—who could even run with that thing? Avery wasn't some damn porn addict but this guy was bigger than any porn star. She couldn’t stop staring, even as she tried to look away, as his…erm…Godzilla of a cock kept flopping in rhythm with his strides.

'No,' Avery thought frantically, 'don’t think of Wallace and this dude at the same time. You’ll combust. Besides, Wallace isn’t some kind of Greek god…'

The whole thing was almost too funny. Avery had grown up hearing those stereotypes, of course, and while she didn’t buy into them, well…this guy seemed determined to make her rethink that. He was definitely white. Yeah, for sure, with black hair and...grey eyes? Maybe black?

She tried focusing on the road ahead, but she could still see the huge cock in her peripheral vision. And she had to keep running. There was no stopping in the Speed ****. So she kept going, cheeks burning, trying not to let her mind wander too much, although she did wonder…

Was he a New God?

Because seriously, no regular human could be that hung.

Then the person disappeared.

The Chosen One disappeared.

Today, Avery Ho had caught a glimpse of the Chosen One; of Aaron Reigner, and she didn't even know it. Perhaps some other day...

Zip!

She exited the Speed **** and skidded to a stop. Tall, white buildings and big roads...

"Haah..." Avery smiled, cheeks and ears still red. "I'm back."

Central City, baby.

No one was chasing her. No one was behind her. She sensed no Speed ****.

'So what the hell was up with that massive schlong? Who WAS that?'

Avery was nineteen years old, she had never seen a naked guy other than what she saw on the internet. So that image of that ten inch white member flapping about...

Yeah, she was going to remember that. Any chick would remember a big cock like that.

Avery had barely shaken off the last traces of multiversal weirdness when she made it back to Wallace’s dorm. The mission with Justice League Incarnate had been intense (okay, so she saved a universe or two) and the massive white cock she had seen was....well, distracted. But now that she was here, she had one thought and one thought only as she knocked on her crush's door: nachos.

Avery was dying for something real and loaded with carbs. Well, two thoughts—she was also hoping to surprise her crush, the inimitable Wallace West.

She knocked once, and when there was no answer, she pushed the door open with a casual, “Hey, Wallace!”

The door swung wide, and there he was.

Wallace West, shirtless and dripping, wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. His dark skin was still damp, glistening in the cramped dorm, and for a split second, she forgot every word in the English language. Wallace, the brilliant, gorgeous speedster with those dark eyes and kind smile… was standing less than a foot away, half-naked, and he looked up, frozen, eyes widening as he met her gaze.

“Oh, uh—” Wallace stammered, glancing down at his towel and then back at her, clearly scrambling for words. “Avery! Hey! Didn’t hear you come in.”

"Yep!" Avery squeaked, both hands flying up to cover her eyes on autopilot. “Didn’t see anything!” she added, a little too loudly.

He laughed, and just as he started to say, “Sorry about the—”

The towel slipped.

Time froze. Literally.

Both of them were speedsters, but neither moved. Avery’s hands stayed plastered over her face, but one eye instinctively peeked open. She couldn’t help it. There, in all its innocent, bared glory, was Wallace West in his birthday suit.

'That’s it?' the most unfiltered part of her brain blurted out.

Because compared to the massive cock she saw in the Speed ****, Wallace's little thing was three inches max. If this was any other day, she might have swooned or blushed. But no, the thoughts plaguing her mind was that it wasn't enough. If she was going to have a crush on a guy, he better be well-hung. He better fuck her like that one dude might have.

Wallace's sack was quite big, nice walnuts in a loose pouch. Yet...compared to that white dude...

'Oh, no. Don’t think that, don’t think that,' Avery mentally scolded herself, cheeks instantly burning. 'He’s a national treasure! He’s saved lives! He’s probably aced physics exams! This is fine. Totally fine.'

But her brain, of course, kept going: 'Okay, so maybe it’s, like, cute. Not bad! Just… not quite the size you’d expect...' A tiny giggle escaped before she could stop it, and Wallace turned bright red.

“Uh,” Wallace said, scrambling to grab his towel, failing miserably even with the Speed ****. Indeed, for the average person, it was less than a blur. In fact, it might not have even fallen at all. But to Avery Ho who was faster than Wallace, it was...

Slow motion.

She witnessed her crush's average cock in all its glory.

Right after seeing the biggest cock.

“Sorry! Sorry! I swear this never happens.”

Avery waved a hand, still very much avoiding eye contact. “No, totally! It’s—uh, don’t even worry. It’s like, no big deal. All speedsters are different, right? I mean, not that I’d know, but—yeah! Totally normal.”

'Stop talking, stop talking,' she screamed at herself, clamping her mouth shut with sheer willpower.

Wallace, equally red-faced, finally managed to gather the towel, wrapping it around his waist and tightening it to within an inch of its life. He looked at her with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck. “Guess that’s one way to… uh, make an impression?”

Avery laughed, feeling a little more in control now that he was somewhat covered. “Yeah, let’s call it that. First, I’m back from saving, like, seven Earths, and now I’m, um....”

“Oh yeah, that.” He cleared his throat, clearly searching for something casual to say but coming up blank. “So, how were the missions?”

Grow some confidence. Say something funny. "I’ll be real with you, Wallace—this? Top of the list. Very memorable.”

Three inches of memorability...

Wallace groaned, rubbing his face. “Just, please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

She held up her hand as if making an oath. “Scout’s honor. What happens in Wallace’s dorm, stays in Wallace’s dorm.”

They both burst out laughing, and as the last of her embarrassment faded, Avery realized she wouldn’t be forgetting this mission anytime soon. Oh, sure, Wallace was not some hung New God like that white dude in the Speed **** but it was the person that counted.

'I hope it gets bigger though...'

Being even half as big as that godly man would be so worth it.