“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

Avery Goodman was thrilled when he received the invitation. Not many got the opportunity to travel to another dimension, and Asgard no less.

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

His family and friends mocked him for getting a PhD in folklore. He couldn't wait to tell them how it paid off. This was a chance to get first person testimony on so many stories. Just straightening out the genealogy of the Aesir could make his career.

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

He should not have been surprised to find that Asgard, and especially Valhalla, was like a beefier and hairier version of a fraternity party.

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

 “You don't have to hide,” Toby Johnson said as he stood by his father's fresh grave. The headstone read simply Gavin Johnson with a date for his birth and another for his death. There was no mention of him being Doctor Nocturne.

“I didn't want to disturb you,” the Other said as he emerged from behind a nearby tree.

“Nonsense, we're family. Get over here.” The Other did as directed and took his place next to Toby.

“It's such a modest grave,” the Other said, “no different from any of the others here.”

“That's all dad wanted.”

“But lesser heroes have received monuments. Captain Crusader, for example. The man has become infamous, and he still received a monument.”

 At her smallest Living Doll stood less than one inch tall. She didn’t like that height. It was uncomfortable and made her ache, but she did not dare increase her height. The Jailor sat just a few yards away at his control console and she was otherwise in plain sight.

 His beard was dark and full, and his hair hung to his shoulders. He wore a medium length tunic, and his well-muscled arms and legs were bare. His war cry echoed down the ruins of Broadway. The giant monsters called back and one of them was soon in view. It was a multi-headed serpent with one hundred stubby legs and it shook the earth with each step.

“Only three heads?” the bearded man said. “Phah!” He fired three lightning bolts like they were arrows from a bow, each bolt struck one of the heads and each of those heads exploded. The monster fell dead. The other monster saw this and charged the man as it roared in rage.

Farther down Broadway, Justice and Tempus Fugitive stood together and watched. Justice stroked his chin.

 A Gray patrol saucer glided into one of the landing decks of the New York prison ship and landed in one of the available cubicles that covered every available vertical surface in the deck. The pilot exited, walked once around his craft and then left to file his report. As soon as the door closed behind him a figure dropped from the underside of the craft and crashed to the floor.

“Nobody said it'd be that noisy in there.” the Lynx complained.

“Careful, idiot,” Living Doll said. “You almost crushed me.”

 “It’s not like he’s the first superhero to ever die,” Boulder Boy said.

“No, he was just the first superhero, period,” Redstone said. “Dumb ass.”

The news of Doctor Nocturne’s death hit the superhuman resistance hard. While they were not allowing it to postpone their planned attack, hero and villain alike took time to share stories of the venerable hero.

“Did you guys see Crimson Gladiator cry?” Living Doll said. “That’s something I never expected to see.”

Augur had his arm around Zephyr who was unnerved by the whole affair. He worried about her. Even though she, like her Teen Justice Patrol teammates, stood at the threshold of adulthood, she still had a childlike view of the world.

 Phase One was going badly. Silver Scarab could evade the Shocktrooper patrols, but not while carrying Doctor Nocturne. He found a secluded spot to rest on a low rooftop surrounded by taller buildings.

“Dad. Can you hear me?”

Doctor Nocturne nodded and then pulled off his mask. The old man didn't look good. “You shouldn't have followed me.”

“You're lucky I did. You and that bum ticker of yours. Here's what we're going to do, we're going to get you back to base and scrub the mission for the night.”

“No, I'll be fine. Too much at stake.”

“The only thing that's at stake right now is your life.”

“I don't know what to do,” a frightened, disembodied voice said.

 “I can say your name.”

Amy Winter sat on her perch behind the Jailor’s workstation. She had a comfortable pillow and some miscellaneous Gray items that she pretended were dolls.

“It would surprise me if that were true,” the Jailor said as he observed his console. Hypnos’ brainwaves were showing a bit too much activity again. The Jailor increased the power of the stasis field to compensate.

“I really can. You want to hear me?”

“I don’t, but I will indulge you, pet. Let’s hear your attempt.”

Amy let loose with a horrible shriek.

“That wasn’t even close to being my name.”

“Was too.”

“It was not.”

“Was too.”

“It was…“

 “I blame you,” Crimson Gladiator said.

“Of course you do,” Anvil said with a roll of his eyes.

“Justice Patrol had nearly twenty years to plan for this invasion, and look what's happened. The whole organization just folded under the first wave of the Gray attack, all of your bases destroyed and the entire roster of heroes missing along with their alternates. Pathetic. We wouldn't have allowed that in my day.”