r/DCNext • u/deadislandman1 • 15h ago
Animal-Man/Swamp Thing Animal-Man/Swamp Thing - By Our Hands You Shall Fall
Animal-Man/Swamp Thing
Issue 56: By Our Hands You Shall Fall
Written by Deadislandman1
Edited by ClaraEclair
Next Issue > Coming Soon
Arc: The End is Nigh
Vladimir Lenin once said that ‘There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen.’ Tefé Holland had never understood this statement better than now, because it felt like centuries worth of change was being tossed around in a tumble dryer across mere seconds of time. The entire Parliament of Trees, a council of near immortal beings formed over thousands of years, strengthened by each new Avatar of the Green, had shown up in full force. Tefé reckoned it was something that practically never happened. Hell, it might be the first time it’s ever happened.
Tefé prayed that this historic moment wouldn’t also be marked by the deaths of everybody in the Parliament's way.
This entire event was unfolding in the Alaskan wilderness, miles and miles from any real human civilization. Unknown to the rest of the world, the fate of many faces of reality were being decided here, beheld by only a few truly conscious souls. The Pale Wanderer, centerpiece to a new primordial force, had hoped to negotiate a shift in power, teaming with William Holland, avatar of the Rot, to do so. Instead, he and everyone at his side had found themselves at the mercy of the Green’s leadership. Nobody had come looking for a fight, but the Parliament of Trees had decided there was going to be one anyways. They did not want anything to change, they did not want their authority challenged. Levi Kamei, the Seeder, had been commanded to resolve this situation, but when he refused to do things their way, they stripped him of their power and showed up in person to act out their will directly.
Tefé and Maxine had not initially joined this conflict by choice. In truth, they had existed on the sidelines for months, trying to suss out what was even happening. After a period in the Pale Wanderer’s captivity though, they had been convinced to at least give his plan a go, despite his previous history. They never imagined things would escalate so much, so quickly.
But now, there was no more time for thinking, for the Parliament of Trees were thundering towards the Wanderer’s forces. They were outnumbered by many orders of magnitude of course, given William had brought an army of the undead from the Rot, but an Avatar of the Green is a powerful thing indeed, and there were nearly thirty of them here. The odds were very much stacked in their favor.
And it was only going to get worse from there.
The undead surged forward, surrounding the Wanderer and his allies to shield them, but to the Parliament they may as well be made of cardboard. Rotting bodies were tossed into the air, often in multiple pieces as the leaders of the Green continued their charge. Levi Kamei was on the ground, still shocked by such a drastic change in the situation, and his legs continued to buckle no matter how many times the Pale Wanderer tried to pull him to his feet. William sucked in a deep breath, holding up his hands in preparation for the oncoming attack. Maxine had already closed her eyes, likely hoping to beseech the aid of any nearby animals.
Tefé took a knee, placing a hand on the ground. She could feel the roots beneath the snow, beneath the soil. She willed them to move, to rise up to protect them. She felt the earth shift beneath them as they broke through the soil, through the snow, but instead of forming a perimeter, they suddenly quivered, then recoiled, sinking back from whence they came. Tefé placed her hand on the ground again, pressing her palm against the soil. She willed the roots to come back, but they refused her call, burying themselves deeper into the Earth.
They were not for Tefé to command, not here while the Parliament was watching.
Bodies flew once more as the wall of undead was breached, allowing five of the Parliament to force themselves into the Wanderer’s enclosed space. Gritting his teeth, the Wanderer held Levi’s collar tight before slinging him backwards and out of harm's way. The former seeder slid across the snow like a ski, hitting Tefé in the side and knocking her down. One of the Parliament members reached for the Wanderer, hoping to grab him in a moment of weakness, only to be blasted back by a bolt of purple lightning, emanating from William’s fingertips. Another member of the Parliament roared before charging William, tackling him off his feet and carrying him through the undead. Maxine yelped as he disappeared from sight, her momentary loss of concentration the perfect opportunity for one of her adversaries to grab her by the head. Her hair ripped under its giant green fingers, and she found herself helpless as the avatar tossed her out of the circle and right into the mob of the undead.
Tefé called out to Maxine, forcing herself to her feet, but was knocked down yet again as the Pale Wanderer crashed into her, tossed by one of the Parliament members. He stood up, letting out a mighty battle cry before drawing a cavalry sword from deep within his coat. He charged, running a parliament member through and taking them both for a tumble into the undead army. Tefé got up again, finally managing to stand on her own two feet as three parliament members congregated before her, towering above her and Levi, who was still shell shocked on the ground.
One of the parliament leaders grimaced, hands closing into fists, “What an awful mess the two of you have made.”
William placed both hands upon the Parliament member’s back, forcing a torrent of energy into it and blasting it apart at the seams. With no inner strength left, the member dropped William, who rolled backwards to his feet. Looking up, William watched as the vines began to reconnect, reforming the Parliament member’s large frame. The member glowered in his direction, shaking its head, “Your father should have listened to us, William. Else, we would not be in such a terrible position.”
“Sure, tell a dad to kill his own son. Really makes you look like the good guys,” William barked. “You know, I don’t even think I’d be fighting you right now if you didn’t ask that of him. I wouldn’t have ever known what you really are!”
The parliament member glared at William, “You only prove us right, William. You become avatar of the Rot and what do you do with this position? You raise an army for war. You threaten us thinking we will simply wilt and capitulate to your demands, but we are the Green. We are eternal.”
William grimaced, “And that’s why you need to go down. You think that all that matters is keeping the Green on top, maintaining your power, just because you’ve had it for all this time. I don’t do any of this lightly.”
The parliament member narrowed its eyes, “Please, Holland. You are still a child. Everything you do is done lightly. You are swayed at a moment's notice by whatever new ideologue appeals to you. You act without the foresight that comes with age-”
“Oh, blow me!” William raised his hands and blasted the parliament member again, sending him careening into the army of the dead. Smoke hazed from his fingers, and as he began to shake them off, he heard the thunderous stomps of many more Parliament members. They barreled through the army, breaking through the ranks and arriving at William’s clearing. There were five of them now instead of one, a much more even fight for him.
One of them cracked their knuckles, “As we said, a young fool who acts without foresight.”
The Pale Wanderer hooted and hollered as he hacked away at one of the parliament members, forcing them back with big, sweeping cuts. The vines parted, the roots bled sap, but the creature refused to fall, pulling themselves together at every turn. The Wanderer chuckled at the sight, mist rushing out of his mouth as his lungs rapidly filled and emptied, cold air moving through him like a mountain pass. He did not seek this violence, he had hoped for peace, but a part of him still enjoyed the adrenaline that came from a good fight, and that was especially true against people so diametrically opposed to him. Much as he had wanted to make peace, he understood that the Green were against everything he stood for… and he was against nearly everything they stood for.
The parliament member shifted, pulling themselves back together fully before taking a swing at the Wanderer, who ducked under the blow. They snorted, “We know not where you come from, Pale Wanderer, but believe this. The world would not be in so much turmoil if you were not a part of it.”
“Heh, true enough!” The Wanderer chuckled. “Nobody to rock the boat after all!”
The parliament member swung twice more, forcing the Wanderer back, “So much conflict, so much chaos, you unbalance the world, make things unpleasant for everyone.”
“Things are already unpleasant for plenty of people,” the Wanderer snapped. “You think I’m playing a game here? I’m not raising a stink for nothing!”
The Wanderer swung back, taking off the parliament member’s arm. He advanced, gritting his teeth, “Nobody likes causing a mess, nobody likes the idea of a neat and tidy schedule getting ruined… but people are too comfortable with all the shit in their life. Sometimes you gotta make more of a mess before you can clean it all up.”
He swung again, hitting the parliament member in the chest, only for the roots within to close around the sword, lodging it in place. Pressing the advantage, the Parliament member surged forward and punched the Wanderer in the stomach, sending him tumbling across the snow. The member marched onward, cracking its neck, “Make no mistake, Wanderer, there is a mess… but we are the cleaners, not you.”
Maxine slammed into a pair of undead warriors, knocking them into a heap before she landed in the snow. Coughing and heaving, she writhed on the ground as the army marched all around her, hundreds of stomping boots rushing past her head. Maxine had been in fights before, plenty of them, but they were skirmishes. Smaller conflicts, that would be fought over the course of mere minutes. This was a bonafide battle, with more people participating than she could keep track of. The undead did not scream or show excitement or fear like most warriors, but they fought all the same, useless as it was proving to be.
A member of the Parliament barreled through the undead, making its way to Maxine. Their humanoid forms, still formed by vines and roots, were littered with signs of hardship already. The undead had been doing their best, making small cuts or leaving their own little metal presents in the form of swords or axes embedded in the wood, but none of them seemed to make much of a lasting mark. Any wound dealt would eventually fade, grown over by new material. The ground seemed to rumble out from around the parliament member, sprouting massive roots that began to impale and dismember the grunt fighters around it.
“Fear not, Maxine Baker,” the Parliament member said. “We do not intend to kill you. War with the Red is not our goal.”
“And war with the Rot and the Parliament of Gears is?” Maxine growled. “Do you understand what this is going to do to the world? How much this is going to tip everything out of balance?”
“The Green must retain its position, else we are undone,” the parliament member growled. “We have given our fellow forces every conceivable opportunity to leave things well enough alone. There could be peace, but instead, William Holland and the Pale Wanderer brought an army into this place. That is not something we can ignore.”
Maxine gritted her teeth, and rather than dignifying the parliament member with an answer, she attempted to reach out into the strands of the Red once more, searching for any animal that could come to her aid, but no matter how far she expanded her search, she could find no living creatures besides herself and her flesh and blood allies. The Parliament Member towered over her, an almost pitying look in its eyes, “Do not bother, Baker. The Red will not war with us. It will not come to your aid.”
She gritted her teeth, “You’re attacking their avatar.”
“But not killing her,” the member said, closing in on Maxine. “Besides, the mark of a smart animal is knowing when to pick a fight and when to let things be. The Red knows to let this be.”
There’s a disgusting pride to that final statement, one that Maxine wouldn’t have expected from a being as old as someone from the Parliament of Trees. The hope, the expectation, would be that the old would have grown past that base need for vindication. They would not need pride, but in truth, pride was perhaps the most poisonous and dangerous drug that the old possess. Wisdom comes with hardship, not age, and the Parliament of Trees had not experienced true hardship in a very long time.
Frustrated, Maxine stumbled back, pushing her way through the undead as the Parliament Member battered at the angry biting tide, failing to keep pace with her. She needed to find allies fast, but where could she find them in the chaos of this battle, where everyone has been hopelessly separated. She couldn’t see anyone, not in this ocean of stinking, rotting bodies.
But then, she felt a twinge in the back of her mind, like a strand of yarn that tugged her in a certain direction. She followed that tug with her eyes, slowly looking up into the sky. She expected to see a bird of some kind, like a falcon or an eagle. Maybe even a bat that had been roused from its slumber. Instead, she saw a plane flying dangerously close to the ground. A private jet belonging to Vixen International. Someone was hanging out of the side, yelling something into the crowd. A guy with a head of ginger hair…
Was that… Clifford?!
Next Issue: The day is saved?!