Mérida, Mexico

When the first quakes came, Catalina Martinez tried to keep calm. Her husband was off at work and she was left to take care of their six-month-old baby. She thought a stroll through the city would be a nice escape from the drudgery of the house, for both her and her daughter, Diana. Unfortunately, it was then that the quakes began.

Catalina tore her child from the stroller and ran for cover. At first, she felt she was safe, but the quakes were quickly increasing in their intensity and assault on the city. The floodwaters came next, and she strove for higher ground, to escape the onslaught.

Her heart was pounding and Diana was crying. Catalina was afraid of what would happen next. Not once, in her twenty-three years of living in Mérida, did she ever think that this would be the way her life ended.

As the waters came, a man called out to her. She looked over and saw him motioning for her and others to come inside. He shouted at the people to hurry and she did not wait another second longer. She ran inside and he told her to take the stairwell to the roof.

Within moments, Catalina was on the roof, and from there she watched as the water from the Gulf of Mexico flooded the city of her birth. She felt like crying, but she kept her composure and tried to calm her daughter.

The ordeal was frightening, but it seemed to pass for now. She breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the ground with Diana. The poor child was still crying, and Catalina did not know what she could do to calm her baby’s screams. She wished her husband were here with her.

She looked around the rooftop, but saw no one she recognized. Briefly, she wondered why there was no warning of an earthquake. It came completely undetected, as far as she knew.

There was a slight rumble. At first, Catalina thought it was simply an aftershock. But then the rumble came back again, stronger. She pulled Diana close to her and at the third rumble, she was knocked from her feet.

The building shook violently and Catalina struggled for leverage. Its very foundation was being rocked by the seismic waves and the building itself began to crumble at the bottom. The top tipped and Catalina found herself screaming as her and her daughter fell off the edge, plunging towards the floodwaters below.

She closed her eyes, prepared to strike the waves, but instead of the feel of cold water on her skin, she felt a sudden torrent of air strike her. She wondered if the winds had suddenly picked up as well, but when she opened her eyes, she saw the face of an angel. With red rings and a blue suit. He set her down on solid, dry ground and smiled at her. Without a word, he took to the air again, moving faster than the eye could see. She watched as that red and blue blur darted across the landscape, picking people from what was to be certain doom.

And Diana had stopped crying.

No matter how many times I see him in action, he never fails to amaze me. My name is Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet. I was the one who gave Superman his name. When he first came to Metropolis all those years ago, I was the one who covered his stories. My name had become synonymous with his.

And now, I’m married to him.

I sat in the Daily Planet newsroom, watching the events on the television in awe, with my photographer, Jimmy Olsen, seated beside me. Perry White stood behind us, with other Planet staffers also watching. I held a cup of coffee in my hand that shook every time I brought it to my lips. A phone rang and someone told Perry it was for him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from the television.

My gaze was fixed solely on the red and blue blur as it darted across Mexico. The floodwaters had started to pour in and Superman was there to prevent them. I watched with bated breath as he would try to contain the water with whatever he could. Collapsed buildings, boulders, anything that would stop the flow of the water.

And the miraculous thing is that he made it all look easy. That was just his way. No matter how many times I saw him in action, he always made it seem like it was so simple. As if it were simply a hobby of his. Obviously, I knew better than that. I knew how often Clark had been pushed to his limits, both physically and mentally. But that’s not the face he showed the rest of the world. To everyone else, Superman could do anything and everything. Not even death could keep him down.

A green wall of energy suddenly appeared to contain the water. It was generated from a ring worn by a black man dressed in green and black spandex. The Green Lantern, or at least one of them. I know he said something to Superman, because I saw the two face each other and pause momentarily. Whatever it was altered him, because in the blink of an eye, Superman was gone again and Green Lantern took over with the relief efforts of Mexico.

“Where do you think he’s going? What could be bigger than this?”

“I wish I knew, Jimmy…”

Be careful, Clark.

“Do you read me, Clark?”

The “voice” in Superman’s head was the telepathic communication from J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter. An old friend of his and his fellow teammate in the Justice League. One of the people Superman looks up to and trusts above others.

“Loud and clear, J’onn. Tell me what’s happening.”

“Mérida was the first, but it wasn’t the last. All over the world, we’re getting reports of natural disasters. I sent John to Mérida because I felt you would want to be informed of what else was happening.”

“You were right. Where else are reports coming in from?”

“Mostly North and South America at this point, but Europe is beginning to feel initial effects as well. I have every available hero working to try and contain the damage as best as possible, while others are working towards relief.”

“I want you to get in touch with different scientists, J’onn, like Emil Hamilton and Ray Palmer. This is too vast to be an isolated incident, there has to be something bigger at work.”

“Agreed, I’ll see what I can do.”

“In the meantime, point me in the direction where I’m needed most.”

“Florida is another big trouble spot at the moment. It looks like there’s a hurricane headed in that direction.”

“Okay, keep me posted.”

“Lane! Olsen! Get over here!”

Jimmy and I found our attention diverted by Perry’s booming voice. Jimmy was first to heed Perry’s cries, but I still found myself captivated by the television set.

“Today, Lois!” he exclaimed.

“Right… sorry,” I replied and made my way over to him.

“We got reports coming in from everywhere on the continent, Mexico’s not the only one being affected,” he said. “Lois, who’s that scientist you know from S.T.A.R. Labs?”

“Emil Hamilton,” I replied.

“Good, you an’ Olsen go have a little chat with him, find out if he knows anything more than we do. I’m a newsman, I don’t believe in coincidences. There’s a connection between all these disasters. I wanna know what it is and I wanna know yesterday, you got me?”

“That makes two of us, Perry,” I said.

Florida was Superman’s next destination. In the face of such adversity, there was little he could do to try and contain the destruction. Still, he pressed on. Man was waged in a war with nature itself, and not even a super-man could make much headway.

He hovered before massive tidal waves and blew them back with his powerful lungs. The waves relented and in some cases, reversed course. But he was not always lucky. Some would get past him and he had to move quickly to save those caught in the torrents.

The rain came down in buckets. Finding relief camps where he could deposit the survivors was becoming more and more of a chore. His muscles ached and he could feel himself tiring, but his determination and will remained as strong as ever. He would not relent, so long as there were people in danger.

A telepathic alert from J’onn directed him to continue his expedition in a northbound direction. The natural disasters had continued to spread along America’s east coast. In the blink of an eye, he moved north. The flash of blue and red streaked across the east coast, trying his best to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.

Massive tidal waves were battering the coasts. He dove beneath the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Beneath the sea, the ground had shifted from the result of a massive underwater earthquake. Superman burrowed beneath the ground and hefted the displaced land mass.

His muscles strained beneath the pressure, but he would not relent. He brought the two displaced landmasses together and focused his blue eyes on the cracks between them. The blue suddenly turned to a bright red. Rays of incredible heat emanated from his pupils, which fused together the rocks.

The east coast had been spared for the moment, but Superman’s work was far from over. He flew from the waters and surveyed the damage along the coastline. Fortunately, it had been minimal thanks to his efforts.

“Superman.”

Again, the voice of J’onn J’onzz came into his mind.

“I’m here, J’onn. The east coast is safe for now. Do we have any new information?”

“I’ve contacted S.T.A.R. labs and Professor Hamilton is working on the problem. The belief is shared that these events are not coincidences. But the Americas are no longer under threat.”

“What is?”

“The disasters in Europe have grown in intensity. Particularly the United Kingdom.”

Before J’onn’s sentence was complete, Superman’s course had shifted and now he flew east, towards England. He pushed his super speed to its limits, flying as fast as he could. He could fly faster than the speed of light, but at the moment, it did not seem fast enough. He felt he needed to move faster, to be stronger, whatever necessary to prevent these disasters from occurring.

“Green… Green… all around the Green…”

Jason Woodrue, also called the Floronic Man, sat in the snow, searching through the flakes.

“Green here… beneath it all…”

An exile from an alternate dimension known as Floria, Woodrue has no human body to speak of. His skin is made of bark and his hair is made of leaves. He is what could be referred to as a plant elemental.

“Mr. Woodrue…”

Woodrue ignored the words from the man who stood before him. Instead, he moved to his hands and knees, searching through the snow. His hands felt all around, moving carefully.

“I’m looking for… Green…”

“Mr. Woodrue, for the last time, there is no green here. We are in the North Pole.” The older man sighed. “I did not arrange for your release from Arkham Asylum so you could try my patience. We came to this point because of its isolation from the rest of the planet. Now you have a task to complete, do you not?”

“Quiet!” Woodrue placed his head to the ground, his ear buried in the snow. “I hear it… I…” He sniffed. “…smell it… the Green…”

“A new Eden, Mr. Woodrue—that is our goal. That is why you are here.”

“The Green… calls to me… it hurts… it’s in pain… Please, please no more, is what it says. Don’t hurt me again. Don’t worry, no one will hurt you, not anymore. The Floronic Man will protect you. The Floronic Man will help you fight back. Together, we will go after everyone who has hurt you. No more, Green, no more pain. Not for you.”

“Very good, Mr. Woodrue,” said the older man.

The Floronic Man jumped from the ground to his feet. He approached the older man, but the man’s large companion stood in the way. The older man placed his hand on his bodyguard’s shoulder.

“Stand down, Ubu.”

Ubu looked at his master and stepped aside. The Floronic Man approached this older man and looked him in the eye.

“You are here to help the Green?” he asked.

“I am.”

“Green wants to know… what should it do?” asked Woodrue.

“You’re the Floronic Man, are you not?”

“I am.”

“These disasters, they were just the beginning. Now the time has come for escalation.” The older man looked at the snow beneath their feet. “Once, a great flood wiped mankind from the face of the Earth. Another is necessary. Only then, can we begin to return to Eden.”

“Who are you?” asked the Floronic Man.

“You may call me Ra’s al Ghul.”