In all his life, Clark Kent has seen many things. He has been across galaxies, seen alien worlds, visited different time periods and realities. In short, he has seen just about everything there is to see.

Yet he is still not above being surprised.

"What’s the hurry, Smallville? Don’t tell me you’re going to try to scoop me."

The woman who spoke those words to him in the middle of the Daily Planet newsroom was Lois Lane. Clark has known her ever since he first came to Metropolis several years ago. The two were rivals, friends, lovers. They were married. Then, Clark’s greatest fear was realized.

She died. And he wasn’t there to save her.

But now, she stood there, hands on her hips, a playful smirk on her face and a fire in her eyes. She was feisty and stubborn and those were the things Clark loved about her. Yet to see her standing in front of him left him in a state of absolute shock.

"Hey C.K., you alright?" asked Jimmy. Clark stood with his jaw hanging open and he wasn’t even capable of processing his friend’s words.

"Oh quit gaping, Kent," said Lois with a roll of her eyes. "I swear, if you start drooling—"

Lois didn’t even get an opportunity to finish her sentence before Clark wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace. It was a shock to Lois as well as Jimmy, who just exchanged confounded glances with each other. Clark pulled away from her just enough and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. Lois’ eyes grew wide and she pushed away from him.

"Whoa! Whoa! Just what do you think you’re doing?" she said. She wiped her mouth. "Have you completely lost your mind, Smallville?"

Clark’s eyes were wide with confusion. He turned his gaze to Jimmy, who seemed to be just as shocked by Clark’s move as Lois was.

"What… what’s going on?" asked Clark.

"I should be asking you the same thing!" said Lois. "Where the hell do you get off thinking it’s okay to kiss me? That’s grounds for sexual harassment, you know."

"But you’re my wife."

Lois and Jimmy looked back and forth from Clark to each other before Jimmy finally spoke up with, "are you feeling okay, Clark?"

"What are you talking about, of course I’m feeling okay," said Clark. "Lois and I are married. Jimmy, you were my best man."

"I was?" asked Jimmy. He turned his gaze to Lois.

"Don’t look at me, he’s out of his mind," she said. She looked at Clark. "Look, I’m flattered. Really. But a) I don’t want to get married. And b) even if I did, it wouldn’t be to you. No offense Clark, but you’re just not my type."

"But the ring…" said Clark. He lifted up his hand and noticed that his gold wedding band was missing from his finger.

"Kent! Great Caesar’s ghost, why are you still standin’ around? You want an engraved invitation?" Perry White, editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet, came storming from his office. "Didn’t I give you an assignment?"

"Sorry Chief, I just—"

"Hey Perry, let me ask you something," said Lois. "Are Kent and I married?"

"Why the hell would you ask me such a ridiculous question?" asked Perry.

"Because he seems to think so," said Lois, pointing with her thumb at Clark.

Perry raised a questioning eyebrow as he reached his hand into his brown vest and withdrew a cigar. He put it between his lips and took out a Zippo. Clark reached out and pulled the cigar from Perry’s mouth.

"The hell’s the matter with you, Kent?" asked Perry.

"Why are you smoking again?" asked Clark. "After your cancer battle, I figured I’d never see you with one of these."

"Cancer?" asked Perry. "I’ve never had cancer in my life."

"You sure you’re okay, Clark?" asked Jimmy,

"Lane, you go with Olsen, get to the bottom of this mess," said Perry. "Find out what’s causin’ this disturbance or whatever."

"I’m on it," said Lois. "Come on, Jimmy."

"I’ll see you later, C.K.—hope you start feeling better," said Jimmy, chasing after Lois.

Once the two of them were gone, Perry took his cigar back from Clark and put it between his lips. He lit it and puffed on it as he spoke. "Now listen here, Clark. I dunno what’s goin’ on in that head of yours, but obviously you’re not feeling too well. Take the rest of the day off. Go home, get some sleep and I wanna see you here bright and early tomorrow. You got me?"

"Right… sure thing, Chief," said Clark. He walked over to his desk and picked up his jacket, throwing it over his arm and put his hat on before he left the newsroom. The entire time, one thought kept racing through his mind—just what was going on here?

On the surface of Earth’s moon stood a large structure known as the Watchtower. It served as the base of operations for the Justice League and presently, two of that organization’s prominent members sat in the monitor room.

J’onn J’onzz, the Martian Manhunter, sat across from Superman. J’onn’s eyes were shut as his telepathic powers went to work, scanning Superman’s mind for any source of anomaly. After a few moments, his eyes opened.

"I sense nothing."

"Are you sure?" asked Superman.

"I wasn’t able to detect any abnormalities in your brainwaves," said J’onn.

"If it’s not me, then it must be something else," said Superman. He stood from his seat and walked over to one of the large windows which gave a view of space.

"Perhaps it’s just stress," said J’onn. "The events of the past month have been difficult on us all, Clark. Particularly yourself. You were the one who personally went up against the Floronic Man, delving into the Green. It’s understandable why you would be a little shaken up."

"It’s more than that, J’onn," he said. "I have memories of things which apparently never happened. I remember getting married, I remember Lois dying. Yet no one else has any recollection. And if there’s nothing wrong with my mind, how can that be? Is this some sort of massive illusion?"

"I suppose stranger things have happened, but it seems unlikely," said J’onn. "To cast an illusion over six billion people, not to mention one that could fool even psychics such as myself, would take a great deal of power. I shudder to think of the consequences."

"Superman!"

Superman shook his head, suddenly feeling a bit disoriented.

"There’s something not right, J’onn… I can feel it."

"Can you hear me?"

There it was again.

"You’re exhausted, Clark. Go get some rest. If anything comes up, the Justice League can handle it," said J’onn.

Again it came, like a buzz in the back of his head. He found it was more and more difficult to hear what J’onn was saying to him. He felt a bout of dizziness and shook his head. His vision seemed to blur slightly.

"Keep me posted, J’onn," he said.

"I will," said J’onn.

As Superman flew towards the Earth from the Watchtower, his surroundings seemed to warp and shift around him. The Earth grew further and further away, and it seemed the faster he flew towards it, the greatest the distance grew.

Waves of green penetrated Superman’s vision. His superhuman senses seemed unable to discern the source of these sudden changes, and the green energy coalesced into a giant being who stood before him, Superman hovering in his massive hand.

This being had pale white skin and wore a green cloak as well as a green domino mask. In the center of his chest, green flames seemed to emerge from a gap. His eyes also glowed with an otherworldly color.

"Hal," said Superman.

Hal Jordan, once a Green Lantern, once a member of the Justice League. Until the destruction of his city and the deaths of many he held close caused him to suffer from a complete, mental breakdown and drove him insane. As Parallax, he wiped out the Green Lantern Corps but later saved the world by sacrificing his life to re-ignite the sun. His final heroic act allowed his spirit the chance for redemption as the Spectre.

"Clark," he said, his voice echoing all around the Man of Steel. "We need to talk."

"Then I’m not losing my mind, am I?" asked Superman.

"Not at all, and trust me, I would know. In fact, you’re probably the one sane being on Earth, if not the universe."

"So it’s some sort mass illusion?"

"You wish."

Superman found himself somewhat taken aback by the Spectre’s response. It didn’t sound to him like something the Hal Jordan he knew would say.

"No, it’s worse than a simple illusion. Much, much worse."

"What is it?" asked Superman.

"The way you think the universe works, and the way it actually works, are two completely different things. What I’m about to tell you might be hard for you to understand. It’s something that would probably destroy the minds of most people. But don’t worry, you should be able to handle it. Or at least I hope."

"That’s reassuring," said Superman.

"Time isn’t a linear concept like you think it is. Time is a sentient being in itself, known as Hypertime. All of time occurs all at once and there are an infinite number of possibilities and timelines all occurring. Think of it as a giant spider web. Each strand is connected to another stand and so on and so forth stretching out to infinity."

"But that’s not possible, I’ve seen time travel before, I’ve done it myself," said Superman.

"Any attempts to travel through time to alter the course of events are useless, Clark. All you’re doing is creating more strands, more timelines if you will."

"What does all of this have to do with what’s happening?"

"Basically, Hypertime screwed up. Big time."

"How?"

"Hypertime revealed its existence to a human who died fairly recently—William Tockman, the Clock King. If you don’t know who he is, don’t sweat it—he was a loser and a failure at life."

"Good to see omnipotence hasn’t gone to your head," said Superman.

"Very funny. Look, when you deal with all the crap I put up with on a daily basis, you either develop a sense of humor about it or turn into one of those cryptic, brooding characters—I chose the humor route since I’m through with all that angst-filled crap," said the Spectre. "Anyway, as I was saying, Hypertime revealed itself to Tockman and somehow, I don’t know how yet, Tockman gained control over Hypertime. So now you have a guy who’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal in control of time itself. And since he’s discovered that linear time, something he’s been obsessed with his entire life, is a lie, he’s just about snapped. So now he’s trying remold time into the way he thinks it should be."

"He’s trying to turn the giant web into a straight line," said Superman.

"You catch on quick, I knew it was a good idea to pick you."

"So you’re the reason I know something’s wrong," said Superman.

"Right. I only had enough advance warning to pull one person in the entire universe outside of time and I picked you."

"Why is time reversing, though? Why are people who were dead suddenly walking around again?"

"Because in order to make the web into a line, first Tockman has to compress it, and that’s what he’s doing."

"There’s still a lot that doesn’t make sense here, like how Tockman was able to take control of Hypertime."

"I’m working on it, but I need your help."

"Hal, what aren’t you telling me?" asked Superman.

"Every so often, a cataclysmic event happens, what we refer to as a ‘Crisis.’ Mageddon was one such Crisis, but it was nipped in the bud. In a reality you don’t remember, there was another Crisis that eliminated many worlds and timestreams. If the Clock King isn’t stopped, we’re on the verge of another Crisis and this one has the potential to be far more destructive than the previous one."

"Just tell me what needs to be done," said Superman.

"Walker Gabriel. Find him, he’s the key to your next task," said the Spectre. "But be careful, the Clock King can see all of time and he already knows about this conversation. He’ll try to stop you at every step of the way and with Hypertime at his command, he can will almost anything. I’ve done what I can to help you, given you the knowledge you need, but I can’t do any more than this. You’re going to be on your own with this and it’s not going to be easy."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is," said Superman.

The tall, bald man stood at the window of the small motel room, his hands interlocked behind his back and his eyes focused on the skyline of Metropolis in the distance. It was his city once and it would be again, given the proper opportunity.

"Lex Luthor, I presume."

He craned his neck to look over his shoulder. The man who stood before him was dressed in the clothing fit for a diplomat, but his head was replaced with a giant clock. The hands on the face of the clock moved in real time and made a tick-tock noise.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" asked Luthor.

"I am the Clock King and I’m everywhere at once," he said. "I’ve come to make you an offer."

"And just what would you have that could interest me?" asked Luthor.

"Must be difficult running around, hiding from the law," said the Clock King. "I suppose you miss the days when you were above the law, don’t you?"

"If you’re trying to anger me…"

"I’m not, just helping you put things in perspective, Mr. Luthor," said the Clock King. "I can make it all go away, you know. I can restore you to your former glory."

"And just how would you do that?" asked Luthor with a grin. "A snap of your fingers?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," said the Clock King. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Luthor found himself blinking and when he opened his eyes again, suddenly he was in the Oval Office.

"How… how did you do that?" he asked.

"Magic," said the Clock King. "If I do this for you, I have one condition."

Luthor raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Superman. Get rid of him, convince the world he’s gone insane, whatever it takes, just keep him off my back."

"Easier said than done."

"You have the means to do so," said the Clock King. "What do you say, Mr. President?"

Luthor smiled and stepped over to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed a private number. "This is the President. I want to speak with Manchester Black, immediately."