The Time Sphere was flying through the time-stream, streaks of black and white flying all around its two passengers. Imra wanted to break down and cry, but she knew she had to stay strong.

Jon was counting on her.

She quickly wiped her tears away and put her mind back to the task at hand; fixing what broke the future.

Soon enough, the Chronometer of the sphere indicated that they had entered the year 2022, the year that changed everything. They were quickly approaching their destination, around May of that year. However, once they passed November, something on the outside of the sphere caught Imra's eye.

Was something... moving out there?

No. It couldn't be. They were in a timeless void moving between two points in time. Unless something followed their signal, there was no way that they weren't alone... right.

As if on cue, the outer shell of the sphere was hit by a black object, startling Imra and Jon.

"What was that?!" Jon asked, trying his best not to sound frightened.

"It was nothing... probably..." Imra said, trying to recompose herself after the shock. "But... just in case, I'll scan the outside..."

Imra placed her index and middle fingers on her temples and closed her eyes while leaning her head backwards. A semi-transparent wave pulsated outwards from her forehead. At first, like she expected, she found nothing.

However, after a few more seconds, she was shocked to hear a voice call out to her from the outside.

"This time period is off limits! Please turn back immediately or your souls will be forfeit..."

The voice was deep and booming and filled her with dread. The temperature inside the sphere began to drop, as she burst in a cold sweat. Her stomach tied up in a knot, and her fight/flight/freeze instinct began kicking in. She was scared to death, but of what?

She didn't have time to ponder on the question, as the black object returned and hit the sphere again, this time harder.

"It's too risky to keep going!" Imra decided before gripping the sphere's controls once more. "I'm bringing us a little later than our target date!" She typed a new date into the Chronometer and pulled the controls as hard as she could, causing the sphere to suddenly stop and turn around.

But the black object was not done with them just yet. It hit the sphere for a third time before deciding to change its tactics. Suddenly, the full object appeared in front of the sphere, allowing Imra to get a good look at it.

It was a humanoid clad in black armor akin to that of a medieval knight, though its helmet's visor wasn't covering its face, revealing the rotting flesh and glowing red eyes. Come to think of it, the armor's aesthetic was reminiscent of a skeleton, with red lines going across the chest-plate to give it the appearance of ribs. It was holding two, massive scythes in its hands and the soles of its boots extended quite far forwards and backwards, almost looking like it was on skis.

The thing crossed its arms, causing the blades of its scythes to glow a deep purple, with black lightning spewing all around them.

Imra was seemingly out of options. She couldn't simply turn the sphere around, as that thing already demonstrated it could change directions just as easily. She couldn't stop, or it would most certainly attack.

And thus, fighting was her only option.

Unfortunately, the sphere did not have weapons, so her only hope for survival was using her psionic powers.

Fortunately, she needn't have worried. As if a miracle from the Gods themselves, the thing was tackled by a red blur just as it was about to charge at them. Imra did not question the occurrence, and simply seized the opportunity to land the sphere at an actual point in time to make sure that they're safe. However, she could swear that she heard a voice in her head, shouting at her to:

"Run!"

The Time Sphere reappeared in the real world in a flash of light and small cracks of blue lightning. When they landed, Imra let out a sigh of relief, softening up all her limbs at once and slumping down on her seat.

"Was that the 'Time Trapper' I heard Phantom Girl mention?" Jon asked, looking equally as relieved as Imra.

"No..." she replied. "I don't know what it was or what saved us, but we can't focus on that now. We must discover and fix whatever altered the timeline!"

"Right!" Jon replied, determined to prove himself. "I think our first stop should be the Metro Tower!"

"Agreed. And we're in luck. Legion HQ was built where the Metro Tower once stood, so we should be somewhere inside it at this very moment..."

Imra turned off the protective outer shell of the Time Sphere, allowing the outside world to be visible. But what they saw almost made them wish that they could return to the comfort of the void beyond time.

The Metro Tower was destroyed.

The roof collapsed, rubble was everywhere, dust and cobwebs were spread as far as the eye could see.

The time travelers said nothing as they exited the bubble.

Jon quickly flew away, shouting "hello?!", hoping that anyone could hear him. To his dismay, no-one answered, indicating that the entire location was abandoned.

He landed once he reached the main hall and took a few steps forward. He gasped once he saw the Justice League round table cracked in half. He flew once more to the lobby. The statues of the Leagues founding members were also in ruins. It pained him to see the one of his father, with a large crack across the torso, and his head cracked in half and lying on the floor like a forgotten knick knack.

Jon collapsed to his knees as Imra walked up to the lobby, trying to hold herself together, even though she was just as affected by these sights as Jon.

"What... What happened...?" he asked with a stutter, barely able to contain the shock of the situation.

"I don't know, Jon..." Imra said, crouching down and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But we have to stay strong. Once we find out the anomaly in the time-stream, we can fix everything..."

"Are you sure...?" He looked up to her, sadness and frustration in his eyes. "Because I thought you said we're at a point after the anomaly happened!"

"That's true..." she confessed. "But there's always the possibility that the League simply needs an extra pair of hands or two to turn the tide. Even if we missed our destination, we can still fix everything. All will be well, Jon. I promise..."

Jon took a deep breath and nodded. Though he didn't believe her that things would work out that easily, he couldn't lose hope. If he did, then he wouldn't be worthy of wearing the family crest on his chest.

Imra cloaked the Time Sphere and got it to follow the two as they exited the dilapidated building, only to find the city surrounding it wasn't in much better shape.

Most of the buildings were destroyed or abandoned, and there were columns of flames sprouting out in different locations around the city.

Though the Chronometer said that it was currently 4 pm, the skies were painted a blood red, dark clouds rolling around and spewing lightning at random intervals. Flying and screeching high above the highest towers, was what appeared to be a swarm of bats.

Jon looked around in despair as the city he lived in for most of his life was in ruins. Trying to keep her mind off of the destruction, Imra decided to check the Chronometer for the exact date:

METROPOLIS

NOVEMBER 16TH, 16:00 EDT

2022

...

Brainiac-5 had set the Time Sphere to take them to May, so whatever resulted in the future, her present, to be erased happened within the previous six months.

"Red skies..." Imra muttered. "This usually indicates a Crisis-Level event. Maybe that's why the Metro Tower was abandoned. The League probably needed all hands-on deck to handle... whatever it is they are handling..."

"If that's the case, maybe we should look for civilians that may need help..." Jon suggested.

Imra smiled. It was clear as day how much Jon regretted putting those people in danger, and she was glad to see how he was trying to improve.

"I'll scan the area..." she said, pressing her index and middle fingers on her temples once again, and closing her eyes.

She let out a blood-curdling scream.

She scanned the minds of people she assumed were nearby, but what she picked up was akin to being repeatedly slammed in the head with a sledgehammer.

So much hate, despair, loneliness, alienation, fear, prejudice. Imra collapsed to her knees as she let all those thoughts consume her. Hope was folly. Love was a lie. Freedom was servitude. There was no denying it. Life was pointless without the darkness. She was not...

"Saturn Girl! Are you okay?!"

Jon's cry of worry snapped her out of her painful trance. She opened her eyes and closed the psychic link that she had opened. She rubbed her head as she sat up.

"I will be soon enough..." she replied, her voice a bit sore.

"So did you... did you find anyone?"

How was she going to explain it to him?

"Yes... no... it's complicated..." she said. "I was picking up thoughts but... they weren't real. So much... aggression and violence... as if we were surrounded by..."

"Doomsday?" Jon asked. The fear was evident in his voice no matter how much he tried to hide it.

"More or less..."

There was silence between the two.

"Maybe it would be best if we found shelter..." Imra suggested.

Despite wanting to appear strong, Jon couldn't agree more with her.

The two started walking around the deserted streets of Metropolis, staying alert for any tiny noise, be it one that indicates danger, or one that may be a person in danger.

They didn't know how long they walked. Minutes? Hours? It was hard to keep track when they were still taking in all the destruction around them.

But eventually, they heard something. Something that wasn't the roar of a killing machine or the cry for help of a random pedestrian.

"BOLLOCKS!"

No, it was the cussing of a drunk Brit. Which was among the last things that the two would expect to hear in the middle of this wasteland.

Luckily for them, they kept hearing the man's drunk ramblings, which made it very easy to track him down.

"The Glens are full of whiskey, I mean, lots of whiskey..." he slurred every other word but was loud enough for them to discover where he was: Bibbo Bibbowski's Ace O'Clubs diner and bar.

"Hello, my old friend, Glen Magoogan..." was the last thing they heard him say as Imra opened the door to the establishment.

Inside they were greeted with a bizarre sight. A blond man with a very noticeable 5 o'clock shadow and a brown trench coat was wobbling around behind the counter, barely able to stand, with dozens if not hundreds of empty bottles of alcohol scattered around the floor.

He removed the cap from yet another bottle and downed all of its contents without a care in the world. He let out a loud belch when he was finished.

Imra was starting to have second thoughts on whether or not she should talk to him, especially with Jon being around, but he was the first person that they've seen for potentially hours. She had to start her mission, and he was the only source of information she had for now.

"The 'H's are gonna be a breeze after the 'G's..." he said, tossing aside the empty bottle in his hands, causing it to shatter against the wall. "Too many..." he hiccupped. "Bloody... 'Glens'..."

"Are we doomed?" Jon asked as he turned to look at Imra.

She chose not to respond and approached the man.

"Excuse me, mister..." she said, catching his attention and causing him to spill some of the whiskey that was still in the bottle he had in hand. "Hello. If we aren't interrupting your... happy hour... I would like to ask you a few questions..."

"Find yer own pub!" He slurred as he jumped his way over the counter to get closer to Imra, almost falling in the process. "I'm drinking my way through this one..."

"We're not looking for a drink..."

"Oh really...?" He asked, getting irritated. "Then what the bloody hell are ya lookin' for, eh?"

"Not to fight you, if that's what you're thinking..." Jon said, as he tried to defuse the tension between them.

At that moment, something crashed through the window of the Ace O'Clubs, screeching as it broke in.

Jon and Imra never had the misfortune to encounter one of those in real life up until that moment. But they have heard tales of them. Mindless soldiers made from the dead husks of fallen heroes. Animated via the unholy science of the Fourth World with a single purpose: destruction.

It was a Parademon. And it wasn't alone.

"You come to the wrong place, then..." the man quipped, as if not caring about the situation.

Imra quickly stood in front of Jon and prepared to fight the creature. However, it easily swatted her away with a back-handed smack.

"Saturn Girl!" Jon cried in worry before turning his anger at the Parademon.

He fired his orange-colored heat vision at the creature, causing it to fall backwards. As Jon began pounding on one of them, another one punched the drunk man as he reached inside of his coat for a weird medallion, which flew over to the countertop.

"Bloody useless, both of you..." he murmured as he drew out a playing card from his trench coat. After speaking some gibberish, the card ignited with yellow flames. The man threw the card at one of the Parademons, and its head exploded once the card made contact.

As Jon finished the first Parademon and moved on to another, the man broke one of the many glass bottles on the head of another. It didn't do much, but it did buy him time to reach for the countertop and grab the medallion that was swatted from him earlier.

"Last call, arseholes..." he grinned as he held up the medallion towards the remaining Parademons.

It flashed white for a brief moment before engulfing all but one of the creatures in a green foam-like substance, turning them to ash.

"And... I'm sober again..." he complained while removing dust from his coat. "Magic can be such a bitch..."

Jon finished taking care of the remaining Parademons with relative ease.

"Who are you?" Imra asked as she finally managed to stand up.

"John Constantine, at yer service..." he replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it won't be long 'till Darkseid sends in the big guns now that he knows I'm here, and I'd like to spend my last few moments of free will in a drunken stupor that rivals that of Churchill... cheers, then..."

"What 'big guns'?" Imra asked.

There was a loud BOOM from outside and a blinding light pierced through the door and broken windows.

"Yer about to find out..." Constantine said as he cracked open another bottle of whiskey and began drinking it.

Jon got the courage to peek outside, expecting to see an army of Doomsdays from what Imra said earlier. But what he actually saw was worse. Much worse...

Standing in front of the Ace O'Clubs were... superheroes. While this would normally be a welcome sight, there was something about them that felt... off to him. It was probably the fact that their eyes were completely black and on their foreheads was a glowing red Omega symbol, like the one on the Parademons. The heroes were also partially clad in armor that resembled that of a Parademon.

And worst of all for Jon? Among the crowd of heroes, he was able to spot Damian, unsheathing a Kryptonite-laced sword.

One of the heroes that Jon recognized was Black Canary. He only took notice of her because she used her signature power of the Canary Cry to utterly destroy the door of the diner, causing the heroes to walk in.

The way they walked was so... unnatural. Like they were puppets on a string, moving at the whim of their master. Three of the heroes (Damian being one of them) pulled out weird looking black helmets with two red eyeholes on the front.

Jon and Imra backed away in terror as Constantine simply kept drinking. Imra got into a battle stance. She wasn't going to let Jon down again. She prepared herself for battle, sweat pouring down her forehead and dripping down into her eyes. To let herself see clearly for the battle to come, Imra blinked.

And once she opened her eyes, she was in a completely different location.

She and Jon looked around in confusion, while Constantine appeared to remain oblivious to the situation until he stopped drinking.

"Hey! What happened to my Glens?!"

"Nothing. They're still in the bar..." the three heard a disembodied voice speak to them.

Soon enough, they were approached by a red blur that revealed itself as a man clad in a red and brown suit of armor with a yellow lightning bolt insignia once he stopped moving. The armor's helmet opened itself up to reveal the face of a ginger man in his early 30s with green eyes that were constantly sparkling with electricity.

"Come with me if you want to..."

"Oh, piss off with that!" Constantine hollered, interrupting the man's pop culture reference. "I don't want to hear nothin' about no great plan to save the world! If yah hadn't noticed, I'm the only one 'ere not wearin' spandex! So do us all a favor and drop me off at the farthest away pub you can find and forget about me..."

"Sorry, John, no can do..." the man said. "We can't do much for the world, so saving anyone not infected is a 'come with us and do not resist' kind of deal..."

"You didn't 'ear me, now did you, West? Then read my lips: bugger off!"

"You said 'piss off'..."

"Doesn't matter! What does is that..."

The armored man stopped listening to Constantine's ramblings and placed two fingers over an earpiece.

"Transportation for four..." he said.

Constantine kept going on and on about nothing, but he was interrupted when a bright green glow surrounded them, causing them to vanish into thin air.

...

"... And a wanker who wears a hubcap as a..." Constantine stopped his nonsensical ranting and started looking around.

In the blink of an eye, the four of them found themselves in a scenery that completely contracted the desolate, downright apocalyptic landscape of Metropolis.

They were at a beach, the sun beginning to set and bathing the sky in a much more calming shade of red. Surrounding them were mountains of lush greenery and everywhere that wasn't green had marvelous architecture, built from marble and gold and made to look like the streets and homes of ancient Greece.

"Did... did we die...?" Jon asked.

"No way, kid..." Constantine replied. "If we did, I most certainly wouldn't be here..."

"Then where...?" Imra asked.

THEMYSCIRA

NOVEMBER 16TH, 18:30 EDT

...

"Welcome to Memyser... Temasci... Tamales...? Ugh, welcome to Paradise Island!" The man answered after giving up saying the real name of the place. "And thanks for the ride, Alan, I know it must be very taxing on you these days..."

The three turned their attention to a man who was kneeling, removing a green flaming fist from the ground. The man looked like he was at least 80, but still appeared in great shape for his age, as his face wasn't incredibly wrinkly, and his blond hair hadn't completely turned white. The man was wearing a green domino mask, as well as a green suit of armor with a lantern seemingly fused to the chestplate.

"What is that supposed to imply, Wally?" The man, Alan, asked. "There's still a lot more fight left on these old joints!"

"Woah woah woah, I wasn't saying anything, big man!"

"Excuse me..." Imra said as she walked up to the two men. "What happened in Metropolis?! Why were there so many heroes after us? Please, I need to know, my home and my loved ones depend on it!"

Constantine scoffed. "Join the club..."

Wally and Alan weren't sure how to reply to the strange woman that they had never seen before. Was it due to shame? Regardless, they took one look at Jon's attire, and upon seeing the iconic S-Shield, their faces lit up a little bit.

"I think I know someone who can tell you what you want to hear..."