William Tockman didn't remember dying.

He was on the field of battle on the Suicide Squad's first mission. His memory of what exactly happened that day was fractured. All he knew was that he was surrounded by the other members of the Squad, who were formerly of the Justice League Antarctica. Then, everything went dark.

Now, he didn't know where he was, but he knew he wasn't with the rest of the Suicide Squad. He was in some sort of vast, empty space. The surroundings were colors all running together, like paint. He felt like he was flying and falling at the same time, and he had no sense of what was up or down, left or right.

Clocks appeared all around him, but the hands were spinning in opposite directions, nonstop. It was enough to drive the Clock King insane. He tried to shout out for them to stop, but they didn't respond to his calls.

They do not obey you, William Tockman.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Tockman's head turned in all directions, trying to determine the location of the voice, but found nothing.

"Who are you?" asked the Clock King.

I am what you have deluded yourself into believing you were the master of. You can call me Hypertime.

"That's not possible..." he said. "Time isn't sentient."

Time is far more complex than you believe it to be, William.

"None of this is real," said Tockman. "I'm imagining all of this. You're nothing but a voice in my head."

I assure you, I am quite real, William. You've secretly sought me out for your entire life. And now, in the moment of your death, I have chosen to reveal myself to you and explain to you the secrets of time.

"There are no secrets to time, it moves consistently forward, without change," said Tockman. "It's the only thing that's reliable."

Quite the contrary. Time is a massive spider web. Everything is connected, everything exists at once. The way you perceive time, as linear, is a misconception on your part.

"No, you're lying."

Why would I lie to you, William? What would I have to gain by lying to a lower being such as yourself?

"Time doesn't work that way. I understand time better than anything. It's been my passion throughout my entire life." Tockman pointed an accusing finger at one of the clocks. "And you think you can tell me that everything I've believed in my entire life has been a lie?"

Not a lie, just a misconception. Human minds weren't meant to perceive something as complex as time.

"You're wrong..."

I only speak the truth, William.

"Then we change it," said Tockman. "We remake time, put it so it works the right way."

That isn't possible. It would create a catastrophe of massive proportions.

"No it won't, it'll make everything right," said Tockman. "This place... this place will let me control time, won't it?"

You must leave now.

"You've never brought anyone here before, have you? And you must know how I was going to react. On some level, you want this just as much as I do. You want time to make sense as well, don't you?"

Tockman heard no response from Hypertime. Instead, he moved towards one of the clocks and stopped its spinning hands. Slowly, carefully, he began to turn the hands backwards together, synchronizing them.

"I'll make it work," he said. As he went to work on the clocks, the garb of his Suicide Squad uniform began to change shape, becoming instead the clothes of a regent complete with a flowing cape. The small facemask he wore with the clock design on it transformed as well into a large, round clock, similar to the mask of his original costume.

"The Clock King can make it right."

Lana Lang absent-mindedly tapped her fingers on the table. She glanced down at her watch and saw it read one thirty. He was half an hour late, but she knew that was pretty much expected. She sipped her coffee and stared out the window. There was a blur of blue and red that streaked past. A moment later, the door to the small coffee shop opened and she looked towards it. Clark Kent stepped inside, dressed in a blue suit and adjusting his glasses. He caught Lana's gaze and smiled as he walked over to her and sat across from her at the table.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "There was..."

"I know, I figured," said Lana. She took another sip of her coffee. "So... how are you holding up?"

Clark cleared his throat. His hand rested on the table and he cast his gaze down to it, focusing his attention on the gold band on his ring finger. He ran one of his fingers around it and thought about what that ring had symbolized.

"About as well as can be expected," said Clark.

"Clark..."

"No really, I'm doing okay. I was in a... pretty bad spot for awhile, but I had a friend help me through it."

"What did this friend say?" asked Lana.

"Basically told me I should stop feeling sorry for myself," said Clark. Lana's eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, that's tactful..."

"It's hard to explain, but it was something I needed to hear and I guess he knew that," said Clark. "It's just the way he is, I suppose. He has a tendency to be a little blunt."

"Obviously," said Lana. "You seemed to be doing pretty well at the funeral, so I guess whatever he said helped."

"It's not easy, Lana," he said. "I'm always waking up in the middle of the night, reaching over and expecting to find her there. But all I feel is a cold spot where she used to be. Every day I'm working at the Planet, I'm always waiting for her to come storming through the doors with some huge lead on a story. And whenever I do hear the doors open, I always hope it'll be her. But it never is."

"It's only been a month, these things take time. Besides, you're working yourself too hard," she said. She looked around and muttered the next words as low as she could, knowing Clark would be able to hear them. "There are Superman sightings all over the place. And in the meantime, Clark Kent is becoming a hermit." She returned her voice to her normal volume. "I mean, I've been trying to get in touch with you since the funeral and it wasn't until yesterday that you finally answered the phone."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I understand why you're doing this, but sooner or later, you're going to run yourself ragged. Even you need to recharge your batteries, Clark."

"I'm just trying to keep busy, that's all," said Clark.

"That's fine, but you're becoming obsessively busy," said Lana. "Look, maybe you should take some time off from work and go on a vacation. See your parents, go on a cruise, something."

"I can't do that. There's still so much that needs to be done. The rebuilding alone..."

"Clark, please. You have to promise me that you'll take things easy. At least for a little while."

"I'll try, but that's the most I can promise. You never know when something's going to happen," said Clark. "How's little Clark doing?"

"Good," said Lana with a smile as she thought of her son.

"Have you heard from Pete?"

Lana's smile faded and she looked down at her coffee. "Not since the divorce was finalized."

"I'm sorry you guys couldn't work things out," said Clark.

"It was just too much, between raising Clark and dealing with Luthor's legacy. I just couldn't take it anymore."

"So you've decided to stay in Metropolis?" asked Clark.

"Yeah, I think so," said Lana. "Besides, it'll be nice to have my best friend back in my life again."

"Not sure how much help I can really be," said Clark.

"We help each other, that's what friends do," said Lana. She looked down at her watch. "Hunh, that's funny."

"What?" asked Clark.

"My watch... it says it's noon." She lifted her wrist. "See?"

Clark looked down at his own watch, but the time on it said two o'clock. "Mine seems to be right."

"Weird," said Lana. She took the watch off her wrist and shook it. "I'll have to get it looked at."

Clark took another look at his watch, then shifted his gaze to Lana. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should get to the Planet. I've already been working Perry's last nerve these days since I've been so busy with my... extracurricular activities."

"Oh, of course," said Lana. "You'll call me if you need to talk, right?"

"Of course," said Clark.

"I'm serious, I don't want you to try and take this all on yourself."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise," said Clark.

He stood from the table and Lana stood as well. The two hugged before Clark rushed out the door. Lana sat back down to finish the rest of her coffee. She smiled as her thoughts went to her oldest friend. He seemed to be coping well enough, but she knew him better than anyone. He was trying to put up a front. It wasn't a surprise to her, though. Some things never change, and apparently, Clark Kent was one of them.

Lex Luthor had not yet grown accustomed to hiding out. Ever since his attempt to label Superman as a public menace had failed, he was forced to leave his position as President of the United States. So far, he had been lucky enough to avoid the authorities using some of the... less ethical contacts he had established over the years.

However, as he watched the footage on the GBS news report, a theory developed in his mind. If his theory was correct, then soon, he may be able to resume his position. He had ideas in mind to retake the empire he had built for himself. And this time, he wouldn't allow the alien to stand in his way.

Clark rushed into the newsroom of the Daily Planet, tightening his tie. He flew from the coffee shop to the Planet, changing his clothes in an alley before he walked through the revolving doors of the building. As he made his way towards the office of the editor-in-chief, another voice caught his ear.

"There you are!"

Clark stopped and looked to see Jimmy Olsen running towards him. "Where've you been?"

"I had some things to take care of," said Clark. "Is Perry in?"

"Oh yeah, he's in," said Jimmy.

"How's the threat level?" asked Clark.

"Gettin' really close to red," said Jimmy. "Good luck, C.K."

"Thanks," said Clark. He walked to the door and knocked on the fogged glass with the words 'PERRY WHITE: EDITOR-IN-CHIEF' written on it.

"Come in!"

Clark stepped inside and saw Perry standing behind his desk. His suit jacket was off and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. As soon as he caught sight of Clark, he narrowed his eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked.

"Sorry Chief, I had some things to take care of," said Clark.

"Yeah?" asked Perry. "Well, while you've been 'taking care of things,' the rest of the world has gone nuts!"

"What do you mean?" asked Clark.

"I mean this," said Perry. He grabbed a remote control from his desk and turned on the small television that sat in the corner of his office. It was already tuned in to GBS News.

{{ This is just an initial report, however it seems as if some of the damages caused by last month's cataclysmic event are simply being... undone for lack of a better word. We do have a video of some of this. We must add that this footage has not been altered or edited in any way by GBS. }}

The image shifted from the anchor to footage of one of the buildings in Metropolis that was damaged by the earthquake. Suddenly, the building started to repair itself with no known cause. It was as if someone were rewinding footage of its destruction. Clark watched the footage in shock and then Perry turned off the television.

"See what I mean?"

"How can this be happening?" asked Clark.

"That's what I want you to find out," said Perry, his finger pointed at Clark. "Look son, I know you're going through a tough time. I loved Lois like she was my own. But you're gonna have to put that aside for now. I need my best reporter on this, alright?"

"You're right, I'll get on it immediately," said Clark.

"That's my boy," said Perry. "Now stop loitering an' get out there!"

Clark nodded and rushed out the door. He saw Jimmy sitting among some other newsroom staff watching the same report Perry just showed him. Clark placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Come on, we've got a job to do," he said.

"Right," said Jimmy. He picked up his camera from the table it sat on and followed Clark towards the exit. Before they reached the door, however, it slammed open. Both Clark and Jimmy's hearts stopped as they laid their eyes on the person who stood in the doorway.

She was gorgeous, dressed in a dark skirt and a blazer with a white blouse underneath. Her long, black hair was pulled back, and her very presence seemed to command attention. She had also been dead for the past month.

"What's the hurry, Smallville?" asked Lois Lane. "Don't tell me you're going to try to scoop me."