Chapter VII: Earth's New Crisis - Part 1
Shadows in the Snow
The Siberian wasteland stretched endlessly in every direction, a frozen expanse of white broken only by the occasional rocky outcropping. The wind howled across the tundra with a fury that would have driven ordinary humans to seek shelter within minutes.
Odyn stood at the edge of the investigation zone, his enhanced senses reaching out to probe the disturbance that had brought him here. Beside him, Seraphina adjusted her thermal protection spell while Beast Boy shifted into arctic fox form, his green fur standing out starkly against the snow.
"The energy signature is stronger here," Hyatan observed, her divine sight allowing her to see the magical corruption that saturated the area. "And it's definitely Arkynorean in origin, but twisted somehow. Corrupted."
Batman consulted his scanner, the device retrofitted with Arkynorean magical detection technology. "The epicenter is approximately three kilometers northeast. Underground structure, heavily shielded."
"Underground?" Roy frowned, his lightning crackling nervously around his fingertips. "That's not standard Arkynorean construction. We prefer open spaces, connection to natural elements."
"Which suggests whoever is doing this doesn't want to be found," Superman concluded. "And they're familiar enough with your people's preferences to deliberately choose the opposite."
The team moved forward in formation—Superman and Hyatan providing aerial reconnaissance, Batman and Roy handling tactical analysis, while Odyn, Seraphina, and Beast Boy formed the forward investigation team. The snow crunched beneath their feet, each step taking them closer to answers they weren't sure they wanted to find.
"Gar," Seraphina said quietly, her empathic senses suddenly alert. "Do you feel that?"
Beast Boy, still in fox form, had frozen mid-step. His ears swiveled forward, catching something the others had missed. When he shifted back to human form, his expression was troubled.
"There's something alive down there. A lot of somethings. But their life signatures are... wrong. Fractured."
Before anyone could respond, the ground beneath them erupted.
The Corruption Revealed
What emerged from the frozen earth defied easy categorization. They had the basic shape of Arkynorean warriors—tall, elegant, unmistakably Dark Elven in their features. But where there should have been amber eyes filled with intelligence and purpose, there was only an eerie violet glow. Their skin had taken on an ashen, almost gray tone, and dark veins pulsed with corrupted magic beneath the surface.
"By the World Tree," Hyatan breathed, horror evident in her voice. "Those are Arkynorean bodies, but the souls within them have been..."
"Puppeteered," Roy finished grimly, lightning dancing between his fingers as he prepared for combat. "Someone's using our people's dead as weapons."
The corrupted warriors moved with unnatural speed and coordination, attacking in perfect synchronization that spoke of a single controlling intelligence. Beast Boy shifted into a massive polar bear, his enhanced strength allowing him to knock back three attackers simultaneously, but more kept emerging from the underground facility.
"We need to get inside that structure," Batman said, dodging a blast of corrupted magic while deploying smoke pellets to obscure the enemies' targeting. "Find whoever's controlling them."
Odyn's divine form blazed to life, golden energy surrounding him as he created a protective barrier around the team. "Hyatan, can you trace the controlling magic back to its source?"
His mother's expression was grim as she extended her senses. "Yes, but Odyn... the signature. It's familiar. Impossibly familiar."
"Who?" Superman asked, using his heat vision to disable another wave of corrupted warriors without destroying the bodies—a consideration born of respect for the fact that these had once been people.
"It can't be," Hyatan whispered, her face draining of color. "The energy pattern matches someone who died during the evacuation of Arkynor. Someone who shouldn't be possible to resurrect."
The ground shook again, and this time what emerged was different. Where the corrupted warriors had been mindless puppets, this figure radiated awareness, malice, and terrible purpose. They stood seven feet tall, wrapped in robes that seemed to be woven from shadow itself, their face hidden behind a mask carved from what looked like petrified wood from the World Tree.
When they spoke, their voice carried the weight of centuries and the cold fury of someone who had been betrayed.
"Hello, Hyatan. It's been a long time since the Fall of Arkynor. Did you really think you could hide on this primitive world forever?"
The voice froze every Dark Elf present. Seraphina's face went white. Roy's lightning flickered and died. Even Hyatan, divine and powerful, took an involuntary step backward.
"Malachar," she breathed. "But you died. We saw you fall when Darkseid's forces breached the World Tree sanctuary."
The masked figure laughed, a sound like breaking ice. "Died? Oh, my dear former queen, I did worse than die. I learned what it truly means to survive when your gods abandon you. When your queen flees and leaves thousands to perish in the darkness."
"That's not what happened," Odyn said, moving to stand protectively in front of his mother. "The evacuation—"
"Was selective," Malachar interrupted. "Tell me, godling, how many common Arkynoreans made it through the portal? How many royal guards? How many of the nobility?" He gestured to the corrupted warriors. "These faithful few? They were left behind. Abandoned. But I found them. In death, I found them and gave them purpose again."
Batman's tactical mind was already working through the implications. "This is a distraction. He's not really here—it's a magical projection. The real facility must be elsewhere."
"Perceptive, mortal," Malachar acknowledged. "But understanding the truth won't save you from what's coming. I've spent months gathering power, corrupting the ley lines of this world, building an army from the dead of Arkynor. And soon, very soon, I'll have enough strength to open a portal. To bring them all back. To show your precious Earth what it means to face an army of the abandoned."
The projection began to fade, but not before delivering one final message: "Three days, Hyatan. In three days, I'll tear open the barrier between worlds and flood this planet with every Arkynorean soul you left to die. Let's see if your new home survives the weight of your guilt."
The corrupted warriors collapsed simultaneously, their temporary animation ended. The team was left standing in the snow, surrounded by bodies that had been desecrated for revenge, facing a threat that struck at the very heart of the Arkynorean integration.
Superman broke the silence. "We need to contact the Watchtower. If he's planning something in three days—"
"We need to tell them everything," Hyatan interrupted, her voice heavy with old pain. "About the evacuation. About who was left behind. About the guilt we've carried for a thousand years."
Odyn placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Then we tell them. And then we stop Malachar from desecrating any more of our people's remains. Together."
As the team prepared to return to the Watchtower, none of them noticed the small magical sensor hidden in the snow, still transmitting data back to its master. Malachar's plan was already in motion, and the clock was ticking.
The Weight of History
The main conference room of the Watchtower had never felt so heavy with silence. Every available hero had been summoned—the Justice League's core members, the full Young Justice roster, and several Teen Titans who had worked closely with the Arkynorean contingent. They filled the curved rows of seats, all eyes focused on the central holographic display where Hyatan stood, her usual regal bearing weighted with visible sorrow.
Beside her, Odyn looked uncharacteristically tense, his divine aura flickering with barely contained emotion. The rest of the Arkynorean heroes—Roy, Sarai, Baron, Zerik, Hailfire, Lyra, and Seraphina—stood together in a formation that spoke of mutual support and shared pain.
Kara sat in the front row between Donna and Superman, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had gone white. She could feel Odyn's distress through their energy bond, a connection that had only grown stronger since their official courtship began. Every wave of his anguish hit her like a physical blow, and it took all her Kryptonian discipline not to simply fly to his side and hold him.
Batman stood at his usual position near the tactical displays, having already uploaded the data from their Siberian encounter. The corrupted warriors' images rotated slowly in holographic form—a grim reminder of what they were facing.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Hyatan began, her voice carrying the formal cadence that emerged when she was under stress. "What we discovered in Siberia requires... context. Context we should have provided when we first came to Earth, but..." She paused, drawing a shaky breath. "But we were cowards. We thought we could leave our shame behind with our dead world."
"Mother—" Odyn started, but she held up a hand.
"No, my son. If we are to ask these people to fight beside us against what's coming, they deserve the complete truth. Not the sanitized version we've been telling ourselves for a millennium."
Wonder Woman leaned forward, her expression compassionate but firm. "Hyatan, whatever happened during Arkynor's fall, we're not here to judge. We're here to help."
"You may feel differently after you hear what we did," Roy said quietly, lightning crackling around his clenched fists. "What we failed to do."
The Tale of Arkynor's Last Days
Hyatan activated the holographic display, and the conference room was suddenly filled with an image of Arkynor in its glory—a world of impossible beauty, where massive World Trees stretched toward violet skies, their branches supporting entire cities. Crystal spires caught rainbow light, and magical energy flowed through everything like luminous rivers.
"This was our home," Hyatan said softly. "A civilization that had stood for fifty thousand years. We thought ourselves invincible. Protected by the World Tree network, guided by divine magic, masters of dimensional travel." Her expression hardened. "We were arrogant."
The image shifted, showing darker times—the sky turning red, the World Trees beginning to wither.
"When Darkseid first came to Arkynor, we didn't recognize the threat for what it was," Sarai continued, her tactical mind evident even in recounting old horrors. "His scouts posed as traders, as explorers interested in cultural exchange. By the time we understood his true intentions, his forces had already infiltrated deep into our society."
The hologram showed an invasion—swarms of Parademons darkening the skies, energy weapons tearing through crystal structures, and Arkynorean warriors fighting desperately against overwhelming odds.
"The war lasted three years," Baron said, his voice hollow. "Three years of fighting, retreating, watching our world die piece by piece. The World Trees were his primary targets—he knew they were the source of our power, our connection to each other and the natural world. When the Great Tree fell..." He trailed off, unable to continue.
"When the Great Tree fell, we knew Arkynor was lost," Hyatan finished. "The question became not whether we could save our world, but whether we could save our people."
The Terrible Choice
The holographic display shifted again, now showing a massive crystalline structure that pulsed with desperate energy—clearly a portal of some kind, surrounded by Arkynorean mages maintaining a complex spell.
"The emergency evacuation portal," Zerik explained, his analytical voice barely masking his emotion. "It took every divine mage we had, working in concert, to open a stable gateway to another dimension. The energy requirements were... astronomical. And it could only be maintained for a limited time."
"How limited?" Batman asked, his detective's mind already seeing where this was going.
"Seventy-two hours," Hyatan replied. "Seventy-two hours to evacuate a population of fifteen million."
The number hung in the air like a death sentence. Flash did the quick math, his expression darkening. "That's not enough time. Not nearly enough time, even with perfect logistics."
"No," Odyn confirmed, his jaw tight. "It wasn't."
Kara felt her heart crack as she watched Odyn's shoulders bow under the weight of memory. She wanted desperately to go to him, but something in his posture—the way he stood rigidly beside his mother—told her he needed to get through this on his own terms.
Hyatan continued, her voice becoming quieter, more pained. "We had to make choices. Impossible, unforgivable choices. The royal family went first—not because we valued our own lives more, but because we were the only ones powerful enough to establish a beachhead on the other side, to create a safe arrival point for the others."
"Then the divine mages," Sarai added. "Because we needed them to maintain the portal from both ends."
"Then the military command structure," Baron said. "To organize defenses in case Darkseid followed us through."
"Then children," Lyra whispered, tears streaming down her face. "All children under fifty years old—that's about twelve in human years. Families were torn apart, parents sending their children through while they stayed behind to buy time."
The hologram showed scenes of chaos and heartbreak—parents clutching children, desperate goodbyes, warriors holding defensive lines while civilians fled through the shimmering portal.
"After the children came the skilled workers we'd need to rebuild," Hailfire continued. "Healers, teachers, craftspeople, farmers. Then the able-bodied adults who could help establish our new home."
Seraphina's voice was barely audible. "And then... we ran out of time."
The Abandoned
The holographic display now showed the portal beginning to destabilize, its edges crackling with dangerous energy. On the Arkynor side, thousands—tens of thousands—of people still waited, hope turning to horror as they realized what was happening.
"We had a choice," Hyatan said, and for the first time, her voice broke. "We could try to keep the portal open longer, risk it collapsing catastrophically and killing everyone on both sides... or we could close it while we still could, condemning everyone left behind to certain death."
"How many?" Superman asked gently. "How many were left behind?"
The number appeared on the holographic display: 7,234,891.
The silence that followed was absolute. Even heroes who had witnessed cosmic-scale disasters seemed stunned by the magnitude of the loss.
"Seven million people," Green Lantern said quietly. "You had to leave behind seven million people."
"Not just leave them behind," Roy said bitterly, lightning arcing violently around him. "We sealed the portal knowing Darkseid's forces were minutes away from overrunning the evacuation zone. We knew exactly what would happen to them."
"We told ourselves it was necessary," Zerik said, his analytical facade crumbling. "That saving some was better than saving none. That we made the only rational choice given the constraints."
"But we heard them," Seraphina whispered. "Through our empathic bonds, through our magical connections. We heard them screaming as Darkseid's forces fell upon them. We felt them die, one by one, for hours afterward. And we... we did nothing. We couldn't do anything."
Hyatan's composure finally shattered completely. "We saved less than half our people. And the ones we saved? We built our new society on the graves of seven million souls who trusted us to protect them. Who believed their queen, their divine leadership, would find a way to save everyone."
Kara's Heartbreak
Kara couldn't take it anymore. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly in the silent room, and crossed the distance to Odyn in three quick strides. She didn't care about protocol or proper meeting etiquette—she could feel his anguish through their bond, and it was tearing her apart.
When she reached him, she simply wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face against his back. She felt him stiffen in surprise, then slowly relax as one of his hands came up to cover hers.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Odyn, I'm so sorry you've been carrying this."
Through their bond, she could feel the full weight of his guilt—guilt for being among those who escaped, guilt for not being old enough or powerful enough to help with the portal, guilt for living while millions died. It was a pain he'd carried for over a thousand years, and it nearly brought her to her knees.
But alongside his pain, she felt something else—the faint stirring of relief that someone finally knew, that he didn't have to hide this anymore. That she was still here, still holding him, even knowing the worst thing his people had ever done.
"We were children," Odyn said hoarsely, not just to Kara but to the entire room. "Most of us here were too young to have any say in the evacuation priorities. I was barely seventy years old—not even considered an adult by Arkynorean standards. But we still carry the weight of those deaths. Every single one of us."
"And now they're being used against us," Baron added, his expression grim. "Malachar was one of the abandoned. He was a master necromancer, one of our most powerful death mages. The kind of person who absolutely should have been evacuated in the early waves."
"But he wasn't," Batman said, his tactical mind already working through the implications. "Why?"
The Arkynoreans exchanged uncomfortable looks before Hyatan answered. "Political reasons. Malachar had spoken out against the royal family's leadership in the years before the invasion. He claimed we were too passive, too willing to seek diplomatic solutions when he advocated for preemptive strikes against potential threats. When evacuation priorities were established..."
"You left your political opponents behind," Wonder Woman said, her voice carrying clear disappointment.
"Not just opponents," Roy admitted. "Anyone who had questioned the royal family's authority in the years before the fall. Anyone who might challenge the power structure we were trying to preserve. We told ourselves it was about maintaining stability in exile, about preventing civil war when we were at our most vulnerable, but..."
"But it was also about retaining power," Sarai finished. "About making sure that when we built a new Arkynor, it would be built under the same leadership that had failed to prevent the old one's fall."
The Heroes' Response
The revelation sent shockwaves through the assembled heroes. Green Arrow stood, his expression angry. "So let me get this straight. You didn't just make a terrible but necessary choice in an impossible situation—you actively chose to abandon your political dissidents? People who might have helped you fight more effectively?"
"Oliver—" Black Canary started, but he shook his head.
"No, this is important. We've been working alongside these people for months, trusting them, integrating them into our teams. And now we find out their leadership actively chose to let millions die to preserve their political power?"
"It wasn't like that," Hailfire protested. "Or it was, but it wasn't just that. The situation was so chaotic, the time pressure so intense—"
"Excuses," Green Arrow shot back. "My grandfather made 'impossible choices under time pressure' during World War II, but he didn't selectively save people based on their political loyalty."
Superman stood, his voice calm but firm. "Oliver, that's enough. What happened on Arkynor was a tragedy of incomprehensible scale, made worse by flawed decision-making under extreme duress. But the people in front of us aren't the ones who made those decisions. Most of them were children."
"Clark's right," Flash added. "Baron was what, seventy? That's like being twelve years old by their standards. He didn't choose who lived or died."
"But we benefited from those choices," Baron said quietly. "Every one of us standing here benefited from the fact that we had family connections, useful skills, or political value. We got to live while better people, people who might have done more good, died screaming."
Kara tightened her arms around Odyn, feeling fresh waves of guilt and self-loathing rolling off him. She turned her head to address the room, her eyes blazing with passionate conviction.
"I know something about survivor's guilt," she said, her voice carrying across the conference room. "I watched Krypton die. I was sent away in a pod while millions of people—including my parents—burned in nuclear fire. And for years, I tortured myself with 'what ifs' and 'if onlys.' What if I'd been older, more powerful, able to help? What if my parents had sent themselves instead of me? What if someone more important, more capable, had been in that pod?"
She moved to stand beside Odyn, taking his hand openly. "But here's what I learned: survivor's guilt is real, and the pain is valid, but it doesn't change the fact that we survived for a reason. Not because we deserved it more than those who died, but because we have a responsibility to honor their memory by doing good with the life we were given."
Her gaze swept across the assembled Arkynoreans. "You've spent a thousand years hating yourselves for living. Maybe it's time to spend that energy making sure those seven million didn't die in vain. Make Earth the home Arkynor should have been. Protect this world better than your leadership protected yours. Be the heroes your people needed back then."
The silence that followed was different—less judgmental, more contemplative. Donna stood, moving to place a supportive hand on Baron's shoulder. "Kara's right. What happened on Arkynor was a tragedy compounded by flawed leadership. But you're not your parents' mistakes. You're here now, and you've been nothing but heroic since you arrived."
"Besides," Cyborg added with a slight grin, "if we judged every hero by their species' worst moments, most of us wouldn't make the cut. Humans have our own long list of genocides and politically motivated atrocities."
"That doesn't excuse what was done," Beast Boy said seriously, though his hand found Seraphina's and squeezed supportively. "But it does mean we understand that good people can come from bad situations. What matters is what you do now."
The Malachar Threat
Batman, who had been analyzing data throughout the emotional exchange, finally spoke up. "We can process the historical and ethical implications later. Right now, we have a more immediate problem. Malachar survived the fall of Arkynor, somehow, and he's had a thousand years to nurse his grievance. The question is: what exactly is he planning?"
Hyatan composed herself with visible effort, her royal bearing returning as she shifted back into tactical mode. "Malachar was one of our most skilled necromancers. His specialty was death magic—specifically, binding wandering souls to physical vessels. If he survived Darkseid's invasion..."
"He would have had access to seven million fresh corpses," Batman finished grimly. "And a thousand years to perfect his craft."
"But that's not the worst of it," Zerik added, calling up new data on the holographic display. "The energy signature we detected in Siberia wasn't just necromantic magic. There were traces of Apokoliptan technology woven throughout. Malachar has somehow merged our death magic with Darkseid's technology."
The implications hit the room like a physical blow. Wonder Woman's expression turned grave. "If he can combine Arkynorean magic with Apokoliptan tech..."
"He could create an army that's both magically animated and technologically enhanced," Tim Drake concluded. "Soldiers that can't be killed conventionally because they're already dead, enhanced with weapons and armor that can punch through our defenses."
"Seven million soldiers," Roy said quietly. "Seven million angry, tortured souls who were abandoned by their leaders and have spent a millennium in whatever hell Malachar has crafted for them."
"And he's planning to bring them here," Odyn added. "To Earth. In three days."
Kara felt ice crystallize in her stomach. An invasion force of seven million corrupted Arkynorean warriors, each one powered by legitimate grievance and enhanced with technology from one of the universe's most dangerous civilizations. It would make Darkseid's previous invasion look like a warmup.
"We have to stop him," she said firmly, her hand still gripping Odyn's. "We have to find where he's really operating from and shut down whatever portal he's planning to open."
"Agreed," Superman said. "But we need more information. Hyatan, what are Malachar's capabilities? What should we expect if we face him directly?"
Hyatan's expression turned troubled. "As I knew him, Malachar was a master strategist and a political philosopher as much as a warrior. He believed strength should rule, that the strong had no obligation to protect the weak. His exile to the lower castes—a punishment for his political agitation—only reinforced his worldview."
"So he's not just seeking revenge," Batman mused. "He's trying to prove a point. That the strong survive and the weak perish, and that your compassion-based leadership model was fundamentally flawed."
"Which means he won't just invade randomly," Sarai realized. "He'll target our integrated communities first. The Arkynorean cultural centers, the places where humans and our people have bonded. He'll try to prove that cooperation and compassion lead to destruction."
"Then we need to fortify those locations," Wonder Woman decided. "And we need to find his base of operations before his deadline. Three days isn't much time."
"We also need to prepare for the possibility that we can't stop the invasion," Batman added pragmatically. "If seven million hostile soldiers come through a portal, we need evacuation plans, defensive positions, and contingency protocols."
Personal Resolve
As the meeting shifted to tactical planning, with various heroes breaking into smaller groups to coordinate different aspects of the defense, Kara pulled Odyn aside to a quieter corner of the conference room.
"How are you holding up?" she asked softly, her blue eyes searching his face with concern.
"I'm..." Odyn started, then stopped, his divine composure cracking. "I don't know, honestly. I've spent a thousand years trying not to think about those we left behind. Trying to convince myself that we made the best choice we could under impossible circumstances. And now..."
"Now they're coming back," Kara finished. "And they have every right to be angry."
"Yes," Odyn breathed. "Kara, if you saw Krypton's dead rising up to attack Earth, blaming you for surviving while they died, could you fight them? Could you strike down people who had every right to hate you?"
Kara was quiet for a long moment, truly considering the question. Then she cupped Odyn's face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes.
"I could fight them," she said firmly. "Not because they'd be wrong to hate me, but because the innocent people of Earth don't deserve to pay for Krypton's destruction. Because my responsibility is to the living, not to the dead. And because..." She took a shaky breath. "Because the people I love would be in danger, and I'd do anything—anything—to protect them."
Her meaning was clear, and Odyn felt something tight in his chest begin to loosen. "I love you," he said, the words coming easier than they ever had before. "I know we've said it before, but I need you to understand—whatever happens in the next three days, whatever I have to do to stop Malachar, I'm doing it because I finally have something worth fighting for beyond guilt and duty."
"We," Kara corrected gently. "Whatever we have to do. I meant what I said earlier, Odyn. Your pain is my pain. Your fight is my fight. You don't have to carry this alone anymore."
They stood there for a moment, foreheads pressed together, drawing strength from each other's presence. Around them, the Watchtower buzzed with activity as Earth's heroes prepared for the coming storm.
"Kara," Odyn said softly, "when this is over—when we've stopped Malachar and dealt with whatever army he's built—will you let me do this properly? The full Arkynorean courtship ritual, with all the formal declarations and ceremonial magic?"
Despite everything, Kara found herself smiling. "Are you seriously thinking about relationship milestones right now? We're about to face a seven-million-strong army of vengeful undead."
"All the more reason to think about the future," Odyn replied, managing a small smile of his own. "To remember what we're fighting for."
"Then yes," Kara said, sealing the promise with a kiss that tasted like hope and determination. "Yes, when this is over, you can court me properly. With all the ceremonial magic and formal declarations you want. But first..." She stepped back, her expression shifting to her Supergirl persona—confident, powerful, and ready for battle. "First, we save the world. Again."
"Again," Odyn agreed, his own divine aura beginning to glow with renewed purpose.
Across the conference room, Hyatan watched her son stand beside Kara, both of them radiating determination and love in equal measure. For the first time since the fall of Arkynor, she allowed herself to feel something other than guilt.
She felt hope.
The Calm Before
As the meeting adjourned and heroes dispersed to begin their assigned tasks, Seraphina found herself standing with Beast Boy on one of the Watchtower's observation decks, looking down at Earth's night side.
"Are you okay?" Garfield asked, his arm around her shoulders.
"I don't know," she admitted. "We've been running from this for so long, convincing ourselves that we could start fresh, that Earth could be our second chance. And now our past has literally risen from the dead to haunt us."
"Hey," Beast Boy said, turning her to face him. "Remember what you told me when we first started working together? That power without compassion is just destruction with a prettier name? Well, the opposite is also true. Compassion without the power to act is just empty sentiment. You have both. Your whole family does. And now you've got a whole planet of allies who've got your back."
Seraphina managed a weak smile. "How did you get so wise?"
"Comes with the green skin," he quipped, then turned serious. "But really, Sera—you guys aren't alone in this. Whatever happens, we're with you. All of us."
Similar conversations were happening throughout the Watchtower. Baron and Donna, standing hand-in-hand as they reviewed defensive positions. Roy and several Justice League members, planning magical countermeasures. Lyra being comforted by her Teen Titans teammates, who reminded her that she was part of their family now.
In his private quarters, Batman reviewed the data from Siberia one more time, his tactical mind already forming contingency plans for every possible scenario. Beside him, Alfred's voice came through his comm link.
"Master Bruce, might I suggest that in addition to tactical preparations, you also consider the psychological warfare aspect? This Malachar seems intent on breaking your allies' spirits as much as breaking their defenses."
"Already on it, Alfred," Batman replied. "But thanks for the reminder. Sometimes the most important battles aren't the ones fought with fists or technology."
On Earth, in Metropolis, the Arkynorean cultural center—a beautiful building that blended crystalline Arkynorean architecture with human construction—stood peaceful and quiet, unaware of the threat looming on the horizon. Inside, Arkynorean refugees who had finally begun to build new lives, to feel safe after a thousand years of wandering, slept soundly.
It was a peace that would last only two more days.
To be continued in Chapter VIII: Earth's New Crisis - Part 2