Justice League of America - Batman: The Stone King Alan Grant (e book reader pc txt) 📖

"The cycle will be complete."

The Stone King's words hung in the air, at once a promise and a threat.

He stood behind them, fully recovered now from his mental war with Peter Glaston. The unexpected attack had taken him off balance, fouled up his carefully constructed ritual, and blemished the purity of his thought processes.

It had taken a lot out of him, but he had eventually managed to repel Glaston's manic assault. And now he could concentrate again on the task at hand.

The pupils of his eyes began to enlarge, and he stared hard at the duo who had dared to invade the sanctity of his lair.

Batman and Manhunter were in no position to resist the shaman's mental bombardment. Pictures leaped into their minds, vivid visions of horror and death that would linger for a long time.

They saw the sacred sites of the world ablaze with energy.

Machu Picchu, the Incas' mysterious mountaintop sanctuary, belched sulphur and lava from a yawning crater that opened in its summit.

A violent electrical storm raged around the giant rocks of Stonehenge, lightning bolts of unstoppable power streaking destructively into the surrounding countryside.

Sections of Black Mesa, in the Hopi heartlands of the Four Corners, burned uncontrollably as the coal buried in the mountainside spontaneously combusted.

Vision followed awful vision with startling speed. Gotham City crumbling and collapsing as conflagration raged. New York shuddering with seismic shock as the bedrock beneath Manhattan turned to a jelloid mass. Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest mountain, disintegrating in an explosion that could be heard all around the world. The Orkney Islands, scene of Europe's first Neolithic settlers, sinking beneath the Atlantic waves.

Still dazed, unable to shut the visions out, Batman's heart filled with growing despair. To have come so close, only to see victory snatched away! The whole world was burning. Billions of innocent people had perished. The Apocalypse prophesied by almost every religion was upon them.

And there was nothing Batman could do about it. Fear of failure raged within him, until his very soul felt crushed.

Manhunter felt physically ill under the mental onslaught. The death of his family and friends–his whole planet!–had left him scarred inside forever. To see the same thing happen on Earth was more than he could bear.

Yet he was helpless, as his adopted world faced its own wholesale destruction at the hands of this maniacal monster.

Still the visions persisted.

Tokyo in ruins, the world's most modern city reduced to a barren wasteland by earthquake and volcanic eruption. Russia brought to its knees by plague and pestilence, corpses piled as high as the Kremlin itself. An America they didn't recognize, the land ripped and torn, the people fleeing in panic from a foe no army could fight.

Time and again, history had presided over the rise and fall of mighty civilizations. The Persians, the Assyrians, the Greeks, and the Romans; the Etruscans, Minoans, Aztecs, Maya, Toltecs, and Olmecs; the crazed hordes of the Mongols and Huns, charging through the cities of the world, baying for blood.

Every one of these civilizations had reached its apex, then plunged to its doom. But there had always been other cultures, ready to expand and take the place of those that failed.

This time, the collapse would be total, and planetwide.

Batman and Martian Manhunter saw the few survivors come crawling out of the holes and caves where they'd hidden. The cycle would start again.

The Stone King would lead them into a new life, cleansed and pure. The electromagnetic fields he controlled would be their lodestone, their guiding star. All would be well–as long as everyone did what the Stone King commanded.

Paralyzed by the Stone King's will, wracked with hopelessness, it was all the Dark Knight could do to remain conscious as the horrific visions never faltered for a moment. For once, the message that his fear carried could not be acted upon.

"Peter? Peter, are you there?"

From far away, Batman recognized the female voice.

Jenny Ayles!

Jenny and Cassandra stood in the chamber doorway, Jenny's fingers tightly gripping her companion's arm. Both were filled with terror, made queasy by the disgusting stench that seeped out from the interior.

But they stood their ground, even as the Stone King turned toward them. Peter Glaston's consciousness had been destroyed; the bull's skull still hid his face, and greasy animal hide covered his body. The smell he gave off was almost unendurable.

Repulsed by the foul image, Jenny had to fight to remind herself that this had been the man she cared for above all else.

"I . . . I love you, Peter," she faltered, heart pounding in her breast.

She wanted to turn and flee, to run as far as she could from the nightmare figure who stood before her. She felt nauseated by its monstrous presence, desecrated by the evil possessing her lover.

She pulled herself together, her knuckles white as her grip on Cassandra's arm tightened even more.

Cassandra could feel every nuance of the younger girl's cartwheeling emotions, but she steeled herself. Jenny needed support, and whatever misgivings Cassandra felt, she was the only one who could offer it.

When Jenny spoke again, her voice was louder, firmer. "I've always loved you, Peter," she declared, "since the first day we met. But you know how I hate argument and confrontation. That's why what happened in Peru, with Robert, poisoned everything we meant to each other."

Jenny's eyes filled with tears that began to slide down her cheeks. "I made a mistake, Peter," she went on. "I want you to forgive me."

The Stone King stood like a statue, making no sound or motion that betrayed whether he had even heard the words, let alone understood them. He seemed to be involved in some inner struggle that diverted his attention from his self-ordained task. The eyes beneath the bull skull blinked shut.

When they opened again Jenny's heart raced.

Those are Peter's eyes!

She hardly dared breathe, her gaze riveted to the Stone King's face. His words came falteringly, as if operating the facial muscles required a tremendous effort. Peter Glaston's eyes held hers, and it was Peter