by CSyphrett, with Martin Maenza
Continued from Showcase: The Sentinels of Magic: Times Past, 1948: Sacrifices Must Be Made
Earth-S:
In the newsroom of WHIZ-TV, a dark-haired teenage boy named Billy Batson stood before the buzzing machine, eagerly awaiting the spooled-out piece of paper that contained vital information. As the words unfolded on the ticker tape, a gasp escaped his lips. “Holy moley!” Billy exclaimed, his eyes widening with distress. “San Francisco is under attack!”
Within moments, Billy was broadcasting the news over the airwaves to all the television viewers. The breaking news segment over, he ran urgently toward the studio exit.
“Billy, where do you think you’re going?” his program director called after him.
“F-family emergency,” Billy stammered, his mind already racing ahead. “I’ll be back soon!” With that, he bolted out the door, venturing down the hall until he discovered a small storage room, hidden from prying eyes. With an intense look of determination on his face, he closed the door behind him and opened the window. “No time to spare. Shazam!”
In that instant, like a bolt of pure magic, a lightning strike manifested in the room, transforming Billy completely. The flash consumed him, leaving behind a tall, muscular figure adorned in a vibrant red costume with striking yellow accents, a yellow lightning bolt symbol, and a flowing white cape. “Time to fly!” the newly transformed Captain Marvel declared, cautiously emerging through the window into the sky.
Using the Speed of Mercury, Captain Marvel soared across the country, hoping against hope that he could reach San Francisco in time. The urgency conveyed through the ticker tape had left an unsettling feeling within the World’s Mightiest Mortal. “Whatever this problem is, it sounds serious,” he muttered to himself.
In mere moments, the hero set foot in San Francisco, his eyes narrowing as a peculiar sight unfolded before him. “Good golly!” Captain Marvel exclaimed, unabashedly startled. “What in the world is that?” A colossal green creature, looming at least ten stories tall, had emerged from the bay, poised to wreak havoc upon the hilly city.
“This is one catch of the day that needs throwing back!” Captain Marvel quipped. Putting jokes aside, he tapped into the Wisdom of Solomon and pondered the best course of action, determined to repel the creature without causing harm or damage. Ideas raced through his mind, until an opportune strategy took shape.
Suddenly, with a ferocious exhale, the enormous lizard unleashed a torrent of fire, swiftly engulfing the city’s skyline. The spiky spines on the monster’s back glowed ominously with each fiery discharge.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Captain Marvel yelled defiantly, weaving beneath the creature’s lower jaw and positioning himself for a powerful counterstrike. His fist, charged with the Strength of Hercules and the Power of Zeus, surged forward, connecting with a resounding impact.
The monster’s jaws snapped shut, momentarily staggered by the unexpected blow. “Looks like a direct approach is the way to go!” Captain Marvel exclaimed confidently.
With malevolence gleaming in its reptilian gaze, the colossal creature lunged repeatedly, eager to tear the meddling annoyance in two with its razor-sharp teeth. Yet Captain Marvel danced just out of his adversary’s reach, taunting it with his agility. The creature glared at its persistent foe, the red figure that dared to challenge its dominance.
Captain Marvel stared resolutely at the daunting challenge before him. This beast has shrugged off blows that would fell mountains, he realized, unease creasing his brow. Casting a quick glance around, he took stock of the chaos engulfing the city. Buildings burned, people fled in panic. I must stop this rampage now!
In the midst of chaos and destruction, the hero soared through the air, his cape billowing behind him like a flag of defiance. The formidable beast’s giant tail was mercilessly crushing everything in its path, including cars parked on the street. Determination burned in the Captain’s eyes as he flew toward the creature, his voice piercing through the chaos.
“That’s enough!” he shouted, his voice filled with authority, as he seized the tail with a strong grip. The beast let out a deafening roar, but the hero remained undeterred, his will unshakeable. With a burst of speed, he ascended into the sky, catching the monster off-guard as he yanked its tail with all his might.
“If you didn’t like that, you’ll really hate this!” he proclaimed, his voice laced with a touch of defiance. Captain Marvel swung the creature around and around, its roars and flailing limbs serving as a testament to his unyielding strength. The World’s Mightiest Mortal refused to relinquish his hold, his grasp unyielding against the thrashing beast.
“Do you want me to let go? Okay then!” he declared, releasing his grip with a calculated maneuver. With a powerful throw, he hurled the monstrous creature into the depths of the vast sea. A victorious smile played on his lips as he watched it disappear into the waves.
Now, onto the fires! he thought to himself, his mind focused on the task at hand. There was a small window of opportunity to extinguish the flames before the monster could return to the shore. The hero darted over the cold waters of the bay with blinding speed, summoning a waterspout. With a flourish, he raised it into the air and thrust it back down onto the burning inferno, extinguishing the majority of the flames.
The remaining embers were swiftly dealt with by the quick claps of his hands, their echoes resonating with power. Luckily, no one was hurt by the battle so far, Captain Marvel thought, satisfied with the outcome. However, he knew he couldn’t dwell on this respite for long. I’d better deal with that big palooka before it wreaks more havoc, he contemplated with a sense of urgency.
With renewed determination, Captain Marvel soared across the bay just as the monster emerged from the depths once more. The beast unleashed a fiery blast with an earth-shattering roar, but the Speed of Mercury granted him the agility needed to evade the scorching flames.
“Back you go!” he exclaimed with a surge of strength, colliding against the towering creature and throwing it off balance. In a mighty display of power, Captain Marvel sent the monstrous beast sprawling onto its back in the water. Without hesitation, he plunged into the ocean depths, utilizing the enemy’s confusion to his advantage.
As his opponent struggled to regain its equilibrium, the hero swiftly slipped beneath the massive body, his muscles flexing with unwavering strength. With fluid ease, the World’s Mightiest Mortal lifted the creature into the air, the water cascading around them like a liquid curtain.
“Just calm down!” he urged, his voice filled with a soothing reassurance. Captain Marvel veered westward, his mind recalling the reported sightings of the elusive creature from when he was Billy. Now that he had incapacitated the menacing beast, he had a singular purpose — to trace its origins, to find the source of this unnatural anomaly.
“I hope this is merely a natural phenomenon, unheard of until now,” he pondered uneasily. “The thought of someone like Sivana growing such a thing is unsettling, to say the least.”
With every intention to unearth the truth, Captain Marvel pressed on, his determined gaze fixed on the horizon. The vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean lay before him, and he flew onward, relentless in his pursuit.
***
Earth-Four:
In the bustling streets of San Francisco’s renowned Chinatown, a tall and handsome man, donning a turban, strode with confidence. Yarko the Great had become a familiar figure in this city and its vicinity, his reputation as the world’s greatest mage preceding him. As people caught sight of him, they couldn’t help but wave, honoring him with their goodwill. Yarko’s heart swelled with gratitude.
Suddenly, a hiss sliced through the air, drawing Yarko’s attention. His brows furrowed, and he swiftly scanned the neighborhood, searching for the source of the mysterious sound. Looking first left, then right, he could see nothing apparent in the streets. His gaze shifted to an alleyway, noticing black shadows that shimmered and converged, morphing into dark-clad figures that emerged into the street, blocking his path.
His curiosity piqued, Yarko exclaimed aloud, “What is this?” The shadow warriors provided no response in words. Instead, they hurled a barrage of fiery throwing stars with deadly precision. As the projectiles collided with nearby windows, shattering them, Yarko charged forward, determined not to let such audacious acts go unpunished. “Don’t think I’ll let you get away with these wanton acts!” he shouted.
However, several of the shadow demons drew flaming swords from thin air, and their featureless faces glowed with embers where eyes should have been. They stood in a defensive stance, waiting for Yarko to attack.
Summoning the forces of magic, Yarko gestured with both hands, conjuring mysterious, glowing letters that materialized before him as he recited an incantation. The enchanting symbols harnessed the fire from nearby shops, manifesting a blade in his hands. “I shall fight fire with fire!” he declared, assuming an en garde position as his radiant sword sparkled in the fading light of the evening.
The shadows advanced, brandishing their blades. Yarko skillfully parried one strike after another, anticipating their moves. Yet, it became apparent that the shadow men possessed superior blade skills.
“Yaaahhh!” A cry of pain escaped him as an adversary’s weapon sliced across his arm. Yarko swiftly realized that if he wanted to survive, he needed to shift the odds in this perilous battle.
With his sword in one hand, he swiftly bent down, using his free hand to etch a symbol into the asphalt beneath him. Stepping onto the intricate design, Yarko stood patiently. By challenging my foes with their own flames, I hope to keep their attention firmly fixed on me, he mused. But they will continue to attack. Something drives them, fueling their relentless attacks — some unseen force!
Nonetheless, Yarko had encountered warriors of their ilk before. They know only offense and defense. They lack cunning, he deduced, hopeful that his theory held true. The shadow fighters positioned themselves around the mighty magician, stalking him and eagerly awaiting his next move.
That’s it! Come closer! Yarko thought, biding his time.
Then, in a synchronized motion, the shadow warriors closed in, intent on delivering a fatal blow. Yarko the Great swiftly plunged his flaming sword into the symbol embedded in the ground. A blinding light erupted from beneath him, cascading over the shadow figures, obliterating them with every stroke as if an enchanted brush were writing them out of existence. A wild hiss echoed through the air as the shadow warriors vanished into thin air.
A triumphant smile graced Yarko’s face. “I love how well that trick works.”
***
Earth-X:
The dark-haired woman stepped onto the stage, her sparkly costume shimmering under the dim lights. The room erupted in applause, a cacophony of cheers and claps. She couldn’t help but smile, the thrill of the crowd’s excitement coursing through her veins.
“Thank you, thank you,” she said graciously, bowing in gratitude to the enlisted men and civilians who had gathered to witness her captivating performance. As she descended from the stage, her eyes caught sight of a man in uniform, a bashful smile on his face. He held out a bouquet of flowers, his gesture filled with genuine admiration.
“These are for you, Miss Margo,” he said, his voice filled with a hint of shyness. The sparkles on her costume seemed to pale in comparison to the sparkle in his eyes.
Margo the Magician leaned closer and planted a soft peck on his cheek. “You’re sweet,” she replied, accepting the thoughtful gift. Grateful and touched, she continued her journey toward her dressing room, eager to change out of her stage attire.
As Margo made her way through the makeshift theater, her mind pondered the upcoming changes in her life. I’ll miss doing the USO shows, she thought wistfully. Performing for our fighting forces fills me with a sense of purpose. The war against the Nazi scourge seemed never-ending, a cold war that persisted even with the presence of the atomic bomb. The Freedom Fighters fought valiantly, but the Nazis remained a haunting force. Will peace ever prevail in my lifetime? she wondered, her mind clouded with uncertainty.
Turning her thoughts away from the heavy burden of war, Margo walked down the bustling streets of San Francisco. As she approached the checkpoint at Presidio, she waved cheerfully at the soldier, her way of both acknowledging his presence and dismissing the weight of it all. Determined to concentrate on her next performance, she entered the city, her footsteps echoing along the cobblestone path.
As night descended, the streets grew dim and a dense fog rolled in from the bay, enveloping everything in its shroud. She involuntarily shivered, clutching her jacket collar tightly to shield herself from the biting cold. Yet, it wasn’t just the temperature that sent a chill down her spine. Within the mist, there was an inexplicable allure, something urging her forward, beckoning her presence.
“Strange,” she muttered to herself, perplexed by the feeling. Suddenly, a pulling sensation overcame her, a beckoning so powerful that she couldn’t ignore it. Without hesitation, she hastened toward the wharf, where she knew something was waiting for her — something that hated living things.
Margo’s magical abilities extended far beyond the smoke and mirrors that most of her fans had assumed. She possessed genuine supernatural talents, making her more than a mere stage performer. As she approached the ocean, she sensed that she would need to harness all of her magic for what lay ahead. There was an undeniable malevolence emanating from whatever awaited her.
Her steps faltered when a pair of glowing eyes emerged from the mist, slowly making their way toward her along the deserted street. In the waning light, a silver fishhook glimmered, capturing her attention.
“Who are you?” Margo called out in a commanding voice, her tone demanding answers from the mysterious figure.
***
Earth-Two:
In the heart of bustling New York City, Doctor Occult, a man dressed sharply in a brown suit, white shirt, and a dark tie, gazed out of his office window. His piercing dark eyes were fixed on an invisible horizon, his mind engrossed in a mysterious presence. “Something brushes gently against my thoughts,” he whispered to himself, his thoughts transforming into a urgent decision. “This demands my attention.”
From the depths of his jacket pocket, he withdrew the Symbol of the Seven, a talisman brimming with immeasurable power. With practiced precision, he focused his mind on the sensation, allowing the ancient magic of the Seven to amplify and fasten onto it. “The West!” he exclaimed, a surge of energy coursing through him. Determined, Doctor Occult grabbed his tan trenchcoat and donned his white fedora, his signature attire as he embarked on his investigations.
Invoking the power of the Seven once more, Occult opened a mystical doorway before him, then stepped into the astral plane, traversing the vast distance between Manhattan and the serene landscape of California’s Golden Gate Park in the blink of an eye.
San Francisco, he thought, a hint of nostalgia coloring his tone. It’s been quite some time since my last visit.
Furrowing his brow, he scoured the surroundings for the source of the probing sensations that had reached him from afar. “It must be close, somewhere in the vicinity,” he reasoned aloud. His gaze shifted, fixing on the dense forest nearby. “Ah, perhaps the woods.”
Suddenly, the world morphed into a cacophony of emotions, crashing waves of intensity battering him, causing him to stagger to his knees. “Aaaggghhh!” he groaned, attempting to steady his footing against the relentless onslaught. But the wave grew stronger, forcing him to brace himself against a sturdy tree. “What in the world is this?”
“Hello, Doctor,” a voice resonated in his mind, carrying an ethereal echo. As if emerging from thin air, a pale woman appeared, delicately grasping a solitary flower in her hand. “I am Rosa. I invite you to become part of me. Submit willingly, and I shall be gentle; but refusal will have its consequences.”
Doctor Occult, no stranger to encounters with the bizarre and otherworldly during his time as a renowned ghost detective, showed no signs of apprehension. He regained his balance, rising steadily with the tree for support. “You are merely a vampire,” he declared, his voice firm and unwavering. “And I have only one purpose in mind for creatures like you.”
“Defiance, then,” Rosa jeered coldly, gliding closer to him. “I expected nothing less.”
Doctor Occult waited patiently, biding his time until Rosa was within arm’s reach. In one swift movement, he brandished the Symbol of the Seven. “Always expect the unexpected,” he asserted, pressing the talisman against her face just as she attempted to press her lips to his.
“Ssskkkaaahhh!” Rosa hissed, her body recoiling from the searing touch. Desperately, she tried to retreat, but Doctor Occult held her head firmly in place with his free hand until her struggles ceased. A blinding flash of light accompanied by a pillar of smoke marked her demise.