In a distant place stands the palace of the Enchantress; Amora looked into her mystic viewing pool and observed the people of Earth, including her enemies. She spoke out loud to no one in particular. The only ones present were some serving maids and her unsuccessful suitors who were turned into the trees that fill her indoor garden.
"Tis all about passion. Our passions are what drive us. Every goal, every quest, every desire is rooted in passion. Tis this which makes us alive, and tis this which oft leads us to death!"
She observed . . .
Chapter 1: Sentinel and Harlequin
Sentinel flew over the city, thinking about the Harlequin. He was always thinking about the Harlequin. He knew he was obsessed with her and that his judgment was impaired. He also knew that it was possible that hypnotism was the root of his unrelenting preoccupation for the red-haired criminal . . . but he didn't care. He had never felt such passion for anyone before. He wanted her and everything else was secondary.
But sometimes she scared him. She had a hatred of the upper class that led her to acts of destructive and sometimes violent vandalism. She had killed before and he could see no indication that she wasn't willing to do so again. He wished she weren't so volatile. He could never have a life with her while she remained a criminal. All there could ever be between them was these secret rendezvous. He needed more than that. He wanted to help Harlequin-to help Molly! He wanted to make her a whole woman, a normal and well-adjusted contributing member of society. Then, he could marry her.
He wondered if Dr. Mid-Nite could help. In his identity of psychiatrist Charles McNider, Mid-Nite had once treated her. Perhaps if he could get her to meet with McNider, he could facilitate a change in her errant ways. The poor girl needed help and McNider was an eminent man in his field. And he was also a friend. If Charles couldn't help, no one could.
He flew off to visit Charles McNider, to ask his opinion on this plan.
The Harlequin was sitting in her very pink hidden lair, thinking deep thoughts, teeming with hatred for Corporate America. The ivory towers of big business had to fall, like the walls of Jericho.
She had once devoted herself fully to the downfall and ruination of big corporations. The vandalism she committed was only a start. She had bigger plans for destroying those corrupt giants of industry. But to her shame, she had let herself get distracted from her goal by the Sentinel. She really liked the masked hero, and the sex was good. But she was letting him pull her away from what she needed to do. Her purpose in life was to be the sword of vengeance against big businesses. Nothing must get in her way. Nothing!
The Sentinel chose that moment to fly into her window. Upon seeing him, she frowned. Her thoughts were still fixed on him as the spoiler of her crusade, and these thoughts aroused her anger. When he entered, her ire was still raised.
"Something wrong?" he asked, noticing her angry reaction to his presence.
She glared for a few more seconds and then turned away. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong at all."
She didn't look at him. This wasn't her normal reaction to his arrival, he noted. Usually, she practically jumped on him and tore his costume off. She always left his mask on though, at his insistence. He worried how she might react if she knew that he was one of those corporate big shots who she so hated.
He sat down, treading carefully on emotional terrain. "Are you certain there's nothing on your mind?"
"I said no!" she snapped.
"Fine," he replied, calmly, hoping to keep her calm. "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go someplace with me."
"Where?"
"To visit a friend?" he suggested.
She looked at him, showing both surprise and amusement. "You want me to meet your friends? Why, I'm so touched. Next thing you know, you'll be asking me to meet your parents."
"Will you come?" he asked.
"This could be interesting."
Sentinel took Harlequin to the office of Dr. Charles McNider.
"You're taking me to a shrink!" she shouted, furious.
"He's a friend of mine," the Sentinel said. "And you know him already. He's a mutual friend."
"McNider?" she thought, trying to recall the name. "Oh yes! Doc McNider! I remember him now. He tried to head-shrink me once. He was kind of cute, for a blind stuffed shirt."
"Will you see him?" the Sentinel asked.
Feigning a smile, she then kicked him in the groin, and leaped out a window. He decided not to give chase.
The Enchantress was still watching. She continued her musings . . .
"Passion is often the source of our pain as well as our pleasure. Being deprived of that which we doth burn for is a torture unequaled. Yet so often, that which we wish for, is a thing that should not be touched. Our lusts can drive us to seek what we should remain far from. We may even know that the object of our obsession is naught but a recipe for disaster, yet we canst not pull ourselves away. Our passions do not make us wise."
She continued to observe . . .
Chapter 2: The Black Canary and the Hulk . . . and the Human Torch
Dinah Drake - Black Canary - arrived at the JSA mansion. She had just spent her birthday with some relatives. She had been seeing her relatives quite a lot lately. She knew what this sudden impulse to see her family was. It was an excuse to get out of the city. She wanted to get away from Thomas . . . from the Hulk!
She was very uncomfortable around the Hulk lately. When he was still Thomas, in his human form, he was a sweet, wonderful man. Ever since his change, when he became the Hulk permanently, he was not that old Thomas. Part of the old Hulk's savage personality had merged with the wonderful Thomas Halloway she used to know. Now, he was an amalgam of two personas and not a particularly pleasant one.
She didn't know what to do about him. He had sacrificed years of his life on an alien world, in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, trying to cure himself, so he could be with her. How could she abandon him?
She stopped in the JSA manor, because she didn't want to go home yet. The Hulk had been stalking her at her apartment building and she wanted to be elsewhere. As she sat, pondering this tormenting problem, the telephone rang. "Hello?" she said.
She heard a voice she didn't want to hear. It was the deep, horse, gruff voice that belonged to the Hulk. "Dinah, honey. It's me. I was hoping you'd be there."
"Oh, hi," she said, without much warmth. "Sorry I didn't call. I've been busy."
"When do ya get back, pretty birdie?" the Hulk asked.
"Pretty much now," she said, trying to deflect any anger he might have toward her for being evasive. "I stopped at the mansion to see if Cap needed me. Just in case anything came up while I was away."
"He'd have contacted you on the transmitter if there was news," the Hulk said. "I get the feelin' there's something else keeping you so busy."
The Canary didn't want to get into all this. "Look, I . . . I have to go. Cap is calling me. I'll talk to you later."
"Dinah, don't hang up!"
"Gotta go. Bye," she said, and hung up.
Miles away, in a cabin in the woods which had become a home to the Hulk, the gray giant slammed the phone down so hard that he crushed it. He raised his fists in the air and let out a primal scream! He then crushed a chair with a swat. Kicking the door off its hinges, he went outside and released his frustrations by pulverizing some trees, bellowing with rage all the while!
Meanwhile, back at the mansion . . .
Black Canary had to get out and get some air. She sat in the large back yard, slumped in a deck chair. Nearby, the Human Torch was flying a training pattern over the mansion. When he saw the woman he loved unrequitedly, the beautiful Black Canary, sitting alone and looking so miserable, he landed and hurried to her side.
"Dinah, are you . . . "
"Please just leave me alone, Jim," she insisted.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned for his dream girl.
"I want to be alone!" she snapped, with uncharacteristic impatience.
"But I want to help you."
Her patience and politeness gone, she rose to her feet. "Will you just go away! I am not your girlfriend, and I'm not your mother! I don't have time for your puppy dog eyes! Find someone else to hold your hand!"
The Human Torch backed away, his face a mask of injured feelings. The look of a jilted lover. He ignited and took to the air, a heartless android feeling the pain of a broken heart. His heartache quickly turned to fury, and he wished he could find someone or something to fight!
The Enchantress continued . . .
"Our passions doth define us. Often, they enslave us. Could we be who we art without our passions? What would be left of us if our passions were taken from our hearts? Without our driving desires, would we recognize ourselves? Would the hunter still truly be a hunter if he lost his passion for the hunt? Would we not just drift pointlessly from moment to moment, if we had no impulses to spur us on? We are the sum of the many legs of our journey, a journey which is defined by its goal. Our passion doth point us to our goal and the journey makes us all that we are."
She continued to observe . . .
Chapter 3: Wonder Woman and her many admirers
As Wonder Woman exited the cab, she was confused by her own actions. The Queen of the Amazons was not supposed to act this way. What would her Amazon sisters say if they knew she was going to a beauty salon? Or that she was doing it to please a man?
When the Black Canary first suggested to Hippolyta that she go to a salon, the Amazon scoffed at the idea. Then she started thinking of Steve, something she did with great frequency. Apparently, American women made a practice of pleasing their men by having something known as a "makeover". Initially, it seemed beneath the dignity of her royal station. But thoughts of Steve overcame her regal pride. She wanted so badly to please him, although she was confused as to why. Why did he make her so . . . emotional? At times, she was frightened by her deep obsession with him. Queen Hippolyta, the great Wonder Woman, had fallen in love! Madly and passionately!
She was greeted with much attentiveness and respect by the employees and customers of 'Pat's Beauty Salon', all of whom were delighted to have the famous Wonder Woman pay them a visit. She was pushed to the front of the list and attended to immediately. The owner of the salon took care of Hippolyta personally. Her name was Patricia Savage. She was the cousin of Dr. Clark Savage, the Man of Bronze.
Patricia, who everyone called Pat, was a tall, beautiful woman in her own right. Many women envied her long, luxurious red hair. "It's an honor to have such an illustrious customer as yourself, Queen Hippolyta."
"Nonsense," Wonder Woman said. "Treat me as you would anyone other woman."
"As you say," Pat answered. "But in your case, I doubt there is much improvement I can make. You're a lovely woman."
"I thank you for your kind words," Wonder Woman said. "Actually, I've never done this before, and I'm not sure what I want? Can you suggest anything?"
"I'll try to come up with something even the queen of the Amazons will be happy with," Pat said. "Oh, before I forget to mention it, did you know we have a mutual friend?"
"Have we?"
Pat nodded. "Captain America. I helped him out recently during that ISBISA mess. He's quite a man."
"Yes, he is," Hippolyta said. "I've met many men during my time in America, and there is no one more noble and brave than the Captain."
"Ummm, I was wondering," Pat said. "Are you - How do I put this diplomatically . . . Are you and he . . . "
"No, nothing of the kind," Wonder Woman said. "I greatly respect the Captain, but I have more than enough amorous suitors to content with. I'm grateful he and I are nothing more than comrades-in-arms."
Pat thought for a minute, wondering if she should ask something she was hesitant to ask. She decided to go ahead anyway. "Pardon me, your Royal Highness, but I'd like to ask you something."
Back at the JSA mansion . . .
Namor had called Plastic Man and Johnny Thunder to a private meeting in the common room of the mansion. Toro was curious about the meeting, deducing that Wonder Woman was the topic, and so he listened at the door.
"This must cease!" Namor bellowed to Plas and Johnny. "I will tolerate your disrespect no longer. Wonder Woman is mine! I insist you stop your harassment of her or face my royal wrath!"
"Blah, blah, blah!" Plastic Man said. "You princes talk too much. An empty piggy bank has more sense then you. Get it? 'Cents!' Bwah, ha ha!"
"Do not anger me further, Plastic Man!" Namor grumbled menacingly.
"Listen, flat-head!" Plas quipped. "Polly turned you down like a Murphy bed. She dropped you like a hot potato. She dumped you like yesterday's trash. She . . . "
"Silence, you jabbering lunatic!" Namor shouted. "You could drive the sanest man to madness!"
"Well, I think Plas has a good point!" Johnny Thunder said. "You can't tell us not to date your ex. You don't own her!"
"My relationship with Hippolyta is none of your concern," Namor insisted. "Suffice it to say, things are not ended between she and I! I will not have it! In the meantime, you will stay away from her!"
"Oh, I don't think thing so, pointy-ears!" Plas replied. "I think I'm gonna sweep her off her pretty feet and carry her off to the Casbah!"
"Then I suggest we settle the matter here and now, like men of honor!" Namor stated.
"Sounds good to me, your-royal-butthead!" Plas said. "Bring it on!"
"I'll take you both on!" Johnny Thunder shouted, preparing to call his Thunderbolt. "Cei -- "
Before he could finish his magic chant, Namor knocked him unconscious with one finger. He tapped Johnny soundly on the forehead, flattening the boy.
"It is just the two of us now!" Namor said to Plastic Man. "Defend yourself!"
Namor swung a powerful blow at Plastic Man, but the pliable hero easily twisted his malleable body and evaded the Sub-Mariner's punch. Namor tried several times to make brutal contact with his evasive opponent, but failed on each attempt. Plastic Man laughed, taunting him.
"Can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man," Plas quoted, from a fairy tale. "Nah, nah, nah!"
Plastic Man turned his hand into a giant hammer and pounded the sea prince over the head. Namor winced and grunted at the impact. His rage grew. Plastic Man snaked out his body and wrapped up the Atlantean like a constrictor. He squeezed the Sub-Mariner. But this was a bad strategy. Namor was born with the stamina to resist the crushing pressure of the ocean floor. Also, Plas made himself vulnerable to a surprise counter attack from the Sub-Mariner. Namor unleashed his eel-like electrical power. Plastic Man, although possessing a high tolerance to electrical current, due to his plastic-like quality, was none-the-less stunned by the attack. Namor yanked him off, and whipped his limp body around like a lash. Plastic Man was slammed into the walls, until he finally passed out.
"Victory!" Namor said. "Perhaps they will think twice about molesting my beloved Hippolyta."
Toro had heard enough, and threw open the door. "It's not over yet, Namor!" he snapped.
Namor looked at him with surprise. "What are you saying, boy?"
Toro ignited his flame. "I'm saying that you haven't defeated all your rivals! I love Wonder Woman, and I challenge you to a fight for her hand!"
Namor looked stunned. "You, boy? Ridiculous! Stop this foolishness, or I shall deal with you harshly!"
"Are you a chicken, Namor?" Toro asked. "Are you a coward? Will you accept my challenge?"
"You push me too far, child!" Namor growled.
Toro created a fireball in his hand and pulled back his arm, preparing to throw it at the Sub-Mariner. "Let's fight for her!"
Namor trembled with rage. "Very well, you stupid boy! I will show you the error of your foolish, childish infatuation with my woman."
"It's not an infatuation!" Toro said. "I love her! And I'll fight for her. But let's go outside, so I don't burn the house down."
Toro and the Sub-Mariner stepped outside, into the large backyard. They faced each other with burning anger. Toro took to the air, and tossed some fireballs at the Atlantean. Namor barely managed to avoid the attack, but was singed by a few volleys. Namor saw the pool nearby and made a dash for it. Toro tried to stop him with a firewall. Namor flew over the wall, and with maneuverability that Toro didn't expect, avoided more fireballs until he could dive under the water's surface.
Toro hovered over the pool, considering boiling the water to make Namor come out. Before he could decide what to do, Namor popped up, splashing Toro with gallons of water. Toro's flame went out and he fell. Namor caught him and deposited him on the side of the pool.
"Yield, boy," Namor said. "You are saturated with water, and thus powerless. I can kill you, if I want."
"I'm not afraid of you!" Toro insisted. "And I won't give up!"
"Stupid child!" Namor said, grabbing Toro by the scruff of the neck and slapping him.
Up above . . .
The Human Torch returned from a patrol around the city. To his dismay, he didn't find the fight he was looking for. He was still burning with rage about the Black Canary's snub. He floated over the yard, and noticed that a struggle was taking place below. Although still high in the air, his sharp android eyes clearly saw the Sub-Mariner slapping Toro. The Torch, already enraged, suddenly became incredibly furious. He was as close as an android could come to being insane with anger.
He had found the battle he was looking for. With a scream of tormented fury, he dived at the Sub-Mariner.
"What . . . ?" Namor wondered, looking around for the source of the primal scream.
The Torch rammed into the sea prince. His heavy android body, combined with considerable momentum and intense heat, crashed into Namor. The unsuspecting Atlantean was knocked off his feet. Namor barely recovered his senses long enough to see who was attacking him before the Torch began pelting him with fireballs. Unlike Toro, the Torch's balls of flame were exactly on the mark.
Namor wailed in pain, scorched by the flaming assault. He pulled himself to his feet, and tried to land a solid blow on the Torch, but the heat was too much, and Namor couldn't get near him. Namor had enough of an electrical charge built up to blast the Torch with another eel-like shock. Bolts of electricity shot out of his body and connected with the Torch. But Namor reckoned without the Torch's android physiology, which allowed the flaming hero to hungrily absorb the voltage.
Namor tried again to reach the pool, but another firewall blocked his path. Again Namor tried to fly over it, but the Human Torch immersed the Atlantean's body in a giant burst of fire. The flame-thrower like attack was successful, and Namor fell, crashing to the neatly mowed ground. He was in agony, weak and dizzy from the heat. His skin was burned. He staggered to his feet and tried to escape. The Torch created a flaming cage around his amphibian opponent. Namor couldn't breach the flaming "bars" of the cage. Trapped inside, overcome by the incredible heat, Namor passed out.
The Torch's rage subsided and he felt a pang of guilt at seeing Namor lying there, gasping and dehydrating. Removing the flame cage by re-absorbing the flame into his body, he rolled the Sub-Mariner into the pool. Then, he similarly soaked up all the flame in the area, leaving only charred Earth. After that, he turned his attention to Toro.
Black Canary, who had been working out in the gym to relieve her frustration, heard the Torch's angst ridden scream and decided to investigate. She passed the open door of the common room and saw Plastic Man and Johnny Thunder lying unconscious. She got to the yard just in time to see the Torch dumping Namor in the pool. She watched the Torch pick up the fallen Toro.
"Jim, what happened here?" she asked. She felt a chill when the Torch looked at her with a coldness that she had never seen in her eyes before.
"I don't need your help," the Torch said.
Wonder Woman entered the mansion, along with Pat Savage. She smelled the burning grass and her warrior instincts took over. Passing the unmoving Plas and Johnny, she ran to the yard and saw the Torch carrying Toro. "What is all this?" she asked.
"Toro needs attention," the Torch said.
"Come, we'll see to him," Wonder Woman said. "I'll care for him. And you can tell me what's occurred."
Later, after Toro recovered, delighted to awaken and see Wonder Woman ministering to him, the Amazon saw to her other three suitors. Plas and Johnny had the same reaction as Toro. The trio told the story of Namor's meeting and his defeat of them all. Wonder Woman stormed out to the yard, intending to have it out with Namor and put an end to his possessive tantrums. But just as she got to the yard, she saw Namor crawling out of the pool, and standing unsteadily. His skin was burned and his expression indicated that he was in pain.
She couldn't scold him. Not while he was in this pitiful condition. An argument would have to wait. "Come Namor, let me see to your burns."
She led him inside. Neither one spoke, but the tense silence spoke volumes.
The Enchantress continued . . .
"Passion is a trap we cannot escape and perhaps we do not wish to. Without passion, we could possibly know some peace. Yet we would be hollow, as empty as a dried up stream. Without passion, we would be soulless zombies. We need our passion to feel alive. Sometimes, however, it makes us wish we were dead."
She continued to observe . . .
Chapter 4: Captain America and Pat Savage
Pat Savage was waiting in the sitting room of the mansion, while Wonder Woman sorted out the chaos wrought by the brawls for her hand. Pat had been told that Captain America would arrive soon. She sat patiently, and was rewarded by his arrival.
He stepped inside and saw her. He paused at the unexpected surprise. When he saw her the previous July 4th, he had been attracted to her. She was smart and resourceful and very attractive. He had liked her very much. More than he dared. "Hello Pat. This is a pleasant surprise."
"Hi there, big guy," she said. "Miss me?"
Cap smiled. "Still a shrinking violent, aren't you? So, what can I do for you?"
"Not everyone comes here looking for help," she said. "I came with Wonder Woman. I asked her if I could see the mansion. Actually, I just wanted to see you again."
Cap was flattered. Such a pretty and intelligent girl and she was pursuing him. "Umm, would you like some coffee, or something?"
They sat in the kitchen for over an hour. She listened attentively to everything he said, and he had the nicest time he had had in many a day. The way she smiled at him stirred feelings that he didn't want stirred. He was the leader of the world's most powerful fellowship, and a symbol of hope to the people of this country. The world was at war and enemies were lurking everywhere, ready to strike at him or his loved ones. He didn't dare pursue this dream. She was a great girl, but romance wasn't in the cards for him.
"Well, it's been great seeing you again, but you wouldn't believe how much I have to do," he said.
"That's fine," she said. "I should be going anyway. Listen, are you busy Friday night? I have this thing . . . "
"I'd really like to, but I'm afraid it's impossible," he said, trying not to sound like he hated saying it. "Socializing isn't easy for me."
"Ok, that's all right," she said. "Maybe some other time?"
"Perhaps so," he said. "I'll get you a cab."
"I have a car," she said. "So, anyway, goodbye Cap."
"Goodbye."
He closed the door after her, and he was crushed. He hadn't just shut the door on a woman, but rather on his chance for the normal, happy life he had wanted for so long.
Chapter 5: A different kind of passion . . .
Flash had been out looking for a Valentine's Day present for Joan. He heard the radio report about a man with powers resembling the Shade, fighting some super speed hero. The Flash was curious. The descriptions of the fast moving mystery man didn't match the Whizzer or Johnny Quick. So who was it?
And if this mystery man was fighting the Shade, he'd probably need some help. The Shade was powerful. He was, however, not as evil as people thought. He cultivated the image of the black-hearted villain, but he actually had a sense of honor. He didn't want to conquer the world; he was just a thief. Being immortal, he wanted to surround himself with the finest things in life. And in his shoes, would most people feel different? Also, the Shade didn't like to kill. He would defend himself, but never killed without a reason. There was one instance when he killed a cop, but he claims it was an accident has showed genuine remorse for it. The Shade had even helped out the JSA. Sometimes, the Flash actually liked him.
Flash arrived on the scene, and saw a blue-garbed, masked man battling the Shade. Flash recognized the speedy fighter. It was Max Mercury, the man who had once warned him of a traitor in the JSA. That was one year ago. So far, the prediction had proven totally false.
"What's going on here?" the Flash shouted.
The two men stopped. The Shade tipped his hat. "Good to see you again, Flash. I'd be careful of this new chap. Chances are, he's out for your job."
The Shade had had sufficient fun at Max Mercury's expense and so cloaked himself in a shield of shadow-matter. He faded away, into the Shadow-verse. That left the Flash and Max Mercury.
"We need to talk," Max Mercury said.
Soon, the two speedsters had retreated to the solitude of a national park in Pennsylvania. They sat on rocks near a frozen lake. "Its cold out, so let's get on with this," the Flash said.
"What I have to say won't take long, and is very important," Max Mercury said. "I'm sure you remember my warning last year of a traitor. As I said at the time, I get these flashes of insight - no pun intended - when I run fast enough. I pierce space and time. Last year, I saw a traitor in the Justice Society. My latest vision assures me that his betrayal is imminent. And worse, I see two additional friends turning against you! These three will be joined by others. And when the carnage is over, a member of the JSA will die!"
Flash looked skeptical. "I don't suppose you can be more specific, can you? Can I have some names?"
"I don't have any names for you," Max Mercury said. "The way I receive these images is hard to describe. They are not so clear at times. My visions of you and the JSA are very vague."
"So you could be mistaken," Flash suggested.
"I'm not!" Max insisted. "I can't be more specific, but I know I'm right!"
"How can you expect me to believe all this?" the Flash asked. "I trust everyone in the JSA implicitly. They're good people. The best! They've all been to my house for dinner! You're a stranger. Why should I believe you? What's your story?"
Max hesitated. "Very well. I don't like to talk about it, but if I must, then I will. I don't blame you for disbelieving me, and if my life story can convince you, then so be it. Prepare for an incredible story!"
In 1838, Ahwehota was a scout and hunter for a Blackfoot Indian tribe. Ahwehota tried to avoid the local fort. Although the soldiers of the fort were not hostile to the Indians, the young scout saw no reason to take a chance of antagonizing them, so he stayed clear. He didn't want to do anything to cause tension between the two peaceful sides.
That peace ended when the new fort commander came. He was not friendly toward the local Indian tribes. He felt that the only good Indian was a dead Indian. One night, tired of waiting for the Indians to give him a reason, he launched an attack on the nearest tribe . . . Ahwehota's tribe.
When Ahwehota returned, he found his people wiped out. Only the Shaman was still alive. Weak and wounded, he told Ahwehota what he had overheard. The new fort commander was planning to hit another tribe that very night. The soldiers were on their way and would be striking at any moment, miles away. They had to be warned, quickly!
The injured Shaman whispered an ancient prayer to the deities he worshipped and rubbed the blood of his fallen tribesman on Ahwehota's chest. The young scout bid his old friend farewell and rushed off to warn the other tribe. But how could he overtake the soldiers and beat them to the other tribal village?
He wept for the dead as he ran. He believed that no man on Earth could run fast enough to deliver the Shaman's warning in time. He never suspected that the ancient tribal magic would connect him to the mysterious power field known as the Speed-Force. As he ran, he picked up speed with each footfall. Filled with a sensation he had never known or imagined, he ran faster and faster. He found himself running more rapidly than any horse, moving swifter than any bird. He outran the wind! He couldn't explain it and at the moment, he didn't want to! He just wanted justice!
He reached the village with plenty of time to spare. To give the Blackfoot tribe extra time, he raced toward the soldiers, using his speed to whip-up a dust storm, and frightening their horses. The confusion allowed the Blackfoot people to vacate. He had succeeded in preventing another massacre.
He was tempted to use his speed to punish the soldiers, but he limited his vengeance to the Fort Commander. After delivering swift revenge, he felt guilty. He felt as dirty as the Commander himself. He vowed that no one else would die, on either side of the conflict, if he could help it.
That night, he had a new mission in life. He was the ultimate peacekeeper. He vowed to protect both Native American's and white American's from each other. In the years that followed, he prevented both massacres and uprisings. He became known as the Windrunner.
In time, he and his friend the Shaman joined with other Western Legends. Ghost Rider, Cinnamon, and the mysterious metallic being known as Ironhorse, the human locomotive. They were, essentially, the very first team of superheroes. They kept justice and order in the old west.
Windrunners legend ended on stormy night, less than a decade after he received his powers. That evening, he felt the night lightning calling to him. The strange beckoning reached into his soul and seemed filled him with the promise of miracles. He chased it. Racing faster and faster, he surpassed any limits of speed he had imagined existed. He moved more swiftly than lightning, more swiftly than light itself. He ran into the Unknown! He touched the source!
The Speed-Force pulled Windrunner in, inviting him to the other side of light. It promised to make him one with power. He felt warm, like in the embrace of a lover. It was glorious, magnificent! It was his destiny!
And yet, for one split fraction of a second, he had doubts. Like all humans, he had an instinctive fear of the unknown. He looked at the gates of heaven and for one forgivable moment, he wished for the simple life he knew before this speed was given him. And with that wish, destiny was ripped from him! One moment of understandable hesitation had cost him paradise. He was guilty only of being human, but the punishment was unjust in its severity. They say 'He who hesitates is lost'. In his case, it was absolutely true. He hesitated and he was lost.
Still running at the speed of light, Windrunner was catapulted ahead through the time stream. He had visions of strange things he couldn't know as he was propelled through time. And when he landed, he was no longer in his own time. Twenty years had passed. He survived, only to be a time-lost misfit.
Over the years, he tried again and again to reach the Speed Force. It was his obsession, his great passion. But he couldn't. It was as if it wouldn't accept him. He had proven unworthy and was banished from it forever. Each attempt jettisoned him further and further through time. Sometimes, only by a few months, and other times by years or even decades. But never again did he feel the power, the glory that he sought.
"In each time zone I took a new name," Max Mercury told the Flash. "Here, in the 20th century, I am Max Mercury. My last attempt to reach the Speed Force was twelve months and two weeks ago. That was when I spoke to you last. I reappeared just days ago, and before I made another attempt, I needed to warn you."
Flash rubbed his chin. "I've heard of the Windrunner. I made it my business to research all previous speedsters. I wondered why he disappeared. It may be crazy, but I believe you. Actually, your warning reminds me of something. It was a vision I had, months ago. Max, I hope we're both wrong!"
"I wish I were, but I fear I am not," Max said. "In either case, I am glad that you are starting to trust me. I want to ask you a favor. As you know, my greatest passion is to reach the speed force. A vision tells me that you did so. Can you help me to do it?"
Later, the Flash and Max Mercury were running together. Faster and faster they moved. They approached the speed of light. When they did, the Flash "lent" his speed to Max. The Indian speedster began to move beyond light, beyond thought, beyond anything. In a blaze of white, heavenly power, Max vanished.
Flash stopped. He looked to the sky. "Good luck, Max. I hope you made it."
Later, the Flash returned to his lab by bus, while his speed slowly returned. It was embarrassing for the world's fastest hero to be traveling via bus, but Jay was able to see the funny side of it. When he arrived, he found the Blue Diamond waiting for him. "This is a surprise, Elton. What brings you here?"
"I thought we might get some work done, but you look done in," the Blue Diamond said. "What happened?"
Flash told the story and the Blue Diamond listened with delight. This was a great opportunity! The Flash was temporarily powerless and tired. He didn't suspect the Blue Diamond at all. They were alone. There would never be a better opportunity to begin his great plan.
When Jay turned his back, the Blue Diamond struck him with a diamond-hard fist. The blow dented Jay's helmet. The helmet prevented any permanent damage, but the impact caused the weakened Flash to pass out. He fell at the Blue Diamond's feet.
"And so it begins!" the Blue Diamond said. "The trap is sprung and the wheels are in motion. There is no turning back now. The destruction of the Justice Society is at hand. Soon, they will all be dead!"
Next: Blue Diamond and the Enchantress form an all-new Injustice Society and spring their carefully laid plan on the unsuspecting JSA. Armed with all the secrets and weaknesses of the JSA, how can they fail? The adventure that changes the JSA forever begins in JSA: A Hero's Final Repose #1!