Chapter Text
Teth Adam awoke, back to life; the wizard’s hold on him had finally weakened enough to return to the living. He was free at last! Burrowing through the ground, out of his secret, long-forgotten tomb—his prison—he surveyed the land about him. Kahndaq. A once beautiful, prosperous land. But now, he discovered, it was one marred by war; famine and plague; the dead, dying, and those who would kill them. He could hear the blood of innocents, of his people, cry out from the ground, pleading for justice. The women, hoping their children would never be born, so as to never enter this living hell. The children, too weak to hope for the death which stalked their starving and mistreated forms, hiding from both the light and from the evils of the land. He cursed the wizard for taking away his people’s protector. Teth Adam had returned, to rule and deliver justice from on high.
()()()
He could feel it in his bones; not only had his people been abandoned, but the wizard had chosen a new champion. As he scoured his lands of the evil filth which had held his people in oppression for far too long, he could feel the magic; as his people had suffered and died, this champion had cavorted about across the globe. Even as his newly freed people massed around him, listening eagerly to his decrees for justice and promises of the future, cheering joyously for the rightful lord of the land, he was distracted. He must confront the usurper, before he could truly have peace. Yes; once he had brought total security to his lands, and fully comprehended this modern world—which in his heart, he had already realized, was ruled by the same struggle between powers as his own age—he would confront the wizard’s puppet. Perhaps, he mused, the champion would see the truth, and turn on the wizard as he once did. If not, well, -- he would kill him.
()()()
The first time Billy Batson saw him was when he was age eleven—ok, ten and ten months. He had just come back from a wacky space journey with the Justice League as Captain Marvel and was exhausted. Being Cap was great, and he could have squealed for joy because he seemed to finally be fitting in with the Justice League (Superman had challenged him to a friendly arm wrestle, and they had sat there for a couple hours, just talking as the rest of the Leaguers watched the struggle in awe—it had been a draw, but he THINKS he could’ve won, if they hadn’t all been randomly teleported to War World. Long story.). And he had just discovered J’onn’s love for Chocos (which JUST so happened to have been created in Fawcett City), so he was going to invite the Martian down to try out some of the famous Choco milkshake bars down here. (J’onn really needed to get out more, anyway). Billy just needed to earn some more money doing side jobs because he wasn’t quite sure if J’onn even had human money, and he couldn’t let anyone know that he himself didn’t even have enough to get a milkshake…
Lost in that thought, he had been walking down a side-street, looking for something to eat. He knew there was a bagel shop around here which sometimes threw away PERFECTLY GOOD (just a little stale or moldy) bagels, and he hadn’t eaten since before his Justice League mission. He had discovered that while he didn’t need to eat as Cap, or even if he DID eat as Cap, he still needed to eat as Billy, unfortunately. Also, he needed to sleep as Billy—but that problem would have to wait until he hopefully found something to eat. A large boom suddenly then sounded from across the city—that was never good. He sighed, (just a little—he had hoped to eat something today), but then reminded himself: people could be in danger. Looking around, and ducking from the obscure side-street to an even more obscure alley, he looked to the sky, and called down the familiar magic: “Shazam!”
()()()
Teth Adam paused midway through crunching the car—he was on the very top floor of a parking garage, smashing these ghastly modern machines together. He had scoured the city for a week, hoping to find the Champion without much fuss—he would have assaulted the Rock of Eternity directly, but he had wanted to approach the Champion without the wizard’s potential interference. After a week of no signs, no sightings, and no magic—he could no longer feel the Champion’s presence here—he had given up on the tact approach and had set about making his presence known. He hoped he wouldn’t have to threaten the citizenry, but then again, did this champion even care about them? But, the city seemed to love him. A conflicting image of who this champion proposed to be had arisen in his mind, and he wished to ascertain which discrepancies were true or not. He dropped the car from his hands, back onto the garage roof, and paused. Yes, he had felt right—the magic was back—the champion had seemingly transformed—and was approaching quickly. Arms crossed, hovering, he waited as a red blur sped toward him then pulled up short. The usurper, hovering a couple dozen yards away, froze as he stared at Adam. Before Adam could begin to question the man, the red-caped crusader frowned and questioningly asked: “Black Adam?!”
()()()
Captain Marvel hadn’t been sure what to expect (Sivana’s crazy antics had long ago stopped internal questions such as ‘Why would a villain want to trash cars in a parking garage?’ or ‘Why would a billionaire send a huge robot to destroy a Chocos factory?’)—but he hadn’t been expecting BLACK ADAM! The wizard had warned him about Black Adam! There hadn’t been a lot of details, but he knew this dude was bad news—he had been the former champion, betrayed the wizard, killed a whole lot of people, might return someday for vengeance, and —yeah, he was just really bad news. He knew the wizard would just want him to attack immediately, but he didn’t want to, well, just attack someone before trying to talk it out, at least. Maybe it wasn’t actually him, and just looked like the guy the wizard had shown him through his magical looking glass-whats-it (he still had to ask what that thing was called). But when the guy’s eyes narrowed (in anger?) as he queried ‘Black Adam’, he sighed again, inwardly this time. Of course he wasn’t that lucky.
()()()
“Why are you here, Black Adam?”
“So”, Teth Adam spat, “the wizard had already spun his stories of lies to you. I should have guessed.”
Sensing his rise in anger, Captain Marvel waved his hands in an attempted friendly gesture.
“Whoa, whoa. I don’t want to have to fight you. But if you’re hear to hurt the wizard, or anyone else, I’m afraid we’re not going to get along.” He stopped and thought a second, and continued on more hesitantly. “Oh wait, I also think you might supposed to be in jail, uh, you know, for all the bad stuff you did. So….uh… you wouldn’t happen to want to go along peacefully, would you?”
Teth Adam ground his teeth. “Listen, usurper –”
The fool interrupted. “Uh, actually, it’s Captain Marvel.”
“Usurper! I am here to offer a choice. We are both Champions, imbued with the powers of the gods, meant to be protectors of the earth. When I was Champion, the wizard’s chosen, I protected my people. But while I was off fighting in the wizard’s own wars, my people were left vulnerable. Evil attacked, but the wizard did nothing.”
He paused, as faded images flashed through his mind—his wife, Shiruta, his sons, Gon and Hurut: once, he could conjure images of them happy, full of life, but all he could see now were their broken and bloodied bodies. He could not bear to say their names.
“…Lives were lost. And when I took it upon myself to deliver swift justice to those who had brought violence into Kahndaq, my home—the wizard decided to put a stop to my actions. He could not retract the blessing of the gods, so he cursed and imprisoned me—buried me—for thousands of years.”
Noting the other champion’s startled face, Teth-Adam scoffed. “It seems the wizard did not tell the whole story, did he not?”
()()()
Billy really wished he had been able to eat that bagel. Because he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating the whole thing from not eating for several days’ periods, or if he was actually hearing this. (Would starving as Billy even affect him as Marvel? He’d have to test that later.)
More importantly, had the wizard lied to him?
“I’m really sorry that people you cared about died.” The Wisdom of Solomon suggested he inquire further. “But did you kill all those people? Even if they were bad guys.”
Adam stared him down, and Marvel met his eyes unflinchingly (though, it may have taken a little bit of the Courage of Achilles at this point).
Adam continued. “As I said, I offer you a choice. Though I may have done…distasteful things, they were done in the service of my people, for the protection of the innocents.” He gestured to the sprawling cityscape around them. “Much like how you protect your city. But the wizard will inevitably use you for his own purposes, his own wars, his own vendettas—and while you fight his battles, your people will suffer, and die, as mine did. And he will not care. For he has not cared about mankind since he severed himself from his own humanity. But if we were to join together, with the power of the gods in our grasp, we could protect this world—our peoples!” He sighed in suppressed rage. “We are like brothers, like family—both with the blessings of the gods running through our blood, both who wish to see justice done against evil!”
()()()
Marvel looked troubled. “But, you killed. I don’t kill. You’re not supposed to just kill people.”
Adam nearly growled in frustration. “Your thinking is juvenile. To truly vanquish evil, you cannot let it fester and grow, you must cut out its roots and burn it. The wizard is not on your side. I killed in the wizard’s name, do you not think he will make you do the same?”
Marvel was taken aback. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.”
This time Adam did growl. “The wizard is not on your side! He is using you, as he once used me!” His anger boiled over into a shout. “Will you not join me, and help destroy the wizard?!”
Gods, why did the usurper look like he was about to cry.
“He ISN’T using me. He’s on my side, he—he’s the only one who actually cares for me!”
“He cares for NO ONE.”
“I won’t let you hurt him.” The red-costumed hero clenched his fists in anger. “You—you’re just a liar and a killer and I’m taking you DOWN.”
Adam hardened his spirit. He had hoped the usurping champion would see the truth, but he was too firmly in the wizard’s grasp, all too willing to sacrifice everything for him. There would be no convincing him now. He narrowed his eyes at the champion. “If you will not join me, and choose to stand in my way, I will have no choice but to end your life.”
Marvel’s fist sped towards him, giving no reply.
“Very well.”
His fist returned in kind.
()()()
Fawcett City Chief of Police Peter Falk watched the ensuing brawl in awe. When the goon in black had first showed up, banging up the cars in the garage, they had made sure to evacuate the whole garage and had started moving people out of the surrounding buildings. He wasn’t surprised when Cap showed up and started talking to the guy—he always did try to talk them down first—but was more surprised when not only Captain Marvel threw the first punch, but the guy in black struck back—hard. They had been throwing haymakers (and cars) at each other for nearly fifteen minutes, and he had made sure to pull back his roadblock even further as the two duked it out. Watching the fight, now through binoculars, he marveled that the guy in black had been going toe to toe with Cap for this long, and worriedly noted that his costume seemed to be the same as Caps, except all in black. Hopefully not some long lost evil family member or a weird clone—those kind of situations were always messy and would require way too much paperwork.
()()()
Their artistic dance of blows had turned into a street brawl.
They both were sweating, he realized.
They both were tired, he noted.
But, somehow, he was the one who was weakening. Not the usurper.
(He should have realized that his recent reconnection to the powers of the gods would not yet be able to supply him with full strength.)
His wisdom prodded him to retreat, regroup.
He ignored it.
His wisdom reminded him of the other champion’s already-noted penchant for transforming from his powerful form to his weak and vulnerable human form. That he could retreat, and follow the man until he transformed—and then strike!
That would be dishonorable, he argued.
But necessary. He would only stand in your way, or take you down. You don’t have time to meet him on even grounds, at full strength. The world groans in suffering.
His heart finally hardened in resolve. He had taken lives before, some ‘dishonorably’—but it would not be dishonorable, in the truest sense, but merely necessary. This “Marvel” was no innocent, no non-player, but an extension of the wizard himself.
Dodging Marvel’s next punch, and moving from their battlefield of the parking garage and surroundings—now mostly decimated—he used the Speed of Horus to fly past the police barricade and grab another car. This time, it had passengers. Hefting the car, barely hearing Marvel shout ‘No!’ behind him, he threw the car into the sky. (He kept the speed of his throw to a minimum, he had no wish to kill innocents even here). A red blur took after the car, and Adam used the opportunity to speed out of sight.
He would wait. And follow. And strike without mercy.
()()()
After safely catching the car and returning it to earth (thankfully, its passengers only had whiplash at worst), Marvel helped the police force clean up the roads and area. He chided himself for not being more careful with the effects of his fighting; he had ignored Solomon quite a bit during that fight. But he was still so mad at Black Adam. He really was a liar. The wizard cared for him, he knew that—he had been the only adult to care enough to help him at all. The rest just tried to hurt him—whether in the foster homes or on the street. He was really ticked off that he had escaped, he would have to ask the wizard what to do about him. He spent the rest of the day clearing the roads and helping move the trashed cars from the top of the garage.
It was sundown, and there was still quite a mess, when the police chief approached him. “Cap, you’ve helped enough. Why don’t you go home and take a load off.” He tried to protest but the chief waved his concerns away. “Look, you don’t have to rebuild the whole durn parking garage. That’s not your job.” He chuckled. “Besides, I don’t think the unions would like that.”
“Oh.”
“You hungry?”
Marvel hesitated. Food sounded SO GOOD right now, but anything he ate as Marvel wouldn’t stick to Billy. And he really needed to sleep as Billy, at least. He could always go longer without food, right?
“Sorry chief, I’ve got…superhero business to get to. You know. All that stuff. Maybe another time.”
Falk chuckled again. “I know, I know. You always say that. Which is why I got you something to go.” He tossed a rolled up brown bag towards Marvel, who caught it—and the irresistible aroma of a hot cheeseburger and seasoned fries wafted up from the greasy bag.
Marvel gaped. “Thank you!” He hesitated. “But, ah, I don’t have any money on me.”
“Nah, it was on the house,” the chief retorted, gesturing to the nearby burger place. “Folk around here appreciate what you do for us.” He waved his hands at Marvel. “Now go on, git on with your superhero business and enjoy the burger.”
Marvel smiled, said his goodbyes, and sped off into the fading sunlight. He made a beeline for the subway system—he couldn’t WAIT to get back ‘home’ and actually eat some non-dumpster food as Billy.
Had he been more observant, perhaps he would have noticed a figure in black following him, avoiding the last few dying rays of sunlight.
()()()
Marvel expertly weaved through the sparsely lit tunnels of the underground subway system. Using Marvel, he had discovered an offshoot abandoned tunnel system—even the rails had been removed—and a broken, abandoned subway car, deep where almost nobody would dare to go. As Marvel, he had piled up a good amount of rocks and debris left behind, and found a large boulder he could place in front of a hole he left, so only he could lift it to get through to this last area of the tunnel which housed his railcar ‘home’—he needed a safe place to be able to sleep as Billy and nobody could trace him back here as Marvel since Marvel could fly out from any of the subway exits. Placing the rock back, and landing in front of the rail car, he peeked around—nobody but the rats—and called the magic name: “Shazam!”
A small stroke of lightning fell, its illumination flashing through the blocked off tunnel, whose only other light was a dim overhead lamp from the elder days of the subway—which the city apparently never disconnected from the grid. He didn’t want his lightning to damage basically the only light source down here. Billy had discovered that through just willing it, he could will the magic lightning to come down in a fairly small bolt, and, he assumed, large also—(he hadn’t gotten around to trying to make it super big yet). But being able to transform using a small bolt helped when he had to transform in public, it attracted less attention. Also, he had discovered, he could will his lightning to hurt or not (that had taken a little trial and error; his transformations used to burn the grass around him or ruin any sort of electronics, and he had hated trying to explain to Batman why he needed a fifth replacement for his Justice League communicator). He wondered if he could use it as a weapon; if he could will it even stronger than normal, but he was a little scared to try that too.
But anyway, BURGER!
Clutching the burger bag, he opened the subway car door and stepped inside, closing it behind. It was a small metal subway car, probably one of the first iterations, hence its abandonment. There wasn’t much inside. Not that he had much to begin with. He had a thin, worn blanket (a small tablecloth from one of the diners’ dumpsters), an extra sweater (also very worn, but red at least!), a flashlight (which now was out of battery, since the only batteries he could scrounge were used ones), and a couple plastic bottles of water which he would fill up at the park’s water fountains. He also had a couple dozen faintly glowing glow-in-the-dark stars scattered around the area, emitting a faint light (sometimes, he couldn’t believe the cool stuff that people would just throw out). He reminded himself to bring them up as Marvel to recharge in the sunlight tomorrow. He took his Justice League communicator and shoved it under a ledge under one of the metal seats; it wouldn’t do for anyone to find Billy Batson with a Justice League communicator. Now deep underground, and very aware of his thin, cold body, Billy threw on his extra sweater, pulled the ‘blanket’ around him, and sat in the corner of the subway car on a pile of cardboard boxes (he found using these helped keep the cold of the metal away better). He settled the burger bag in front of him, paused, and pulled out his last and dearest possession from its hiding place in the corner and onto his lap: his stuffed tiger, Tawky Tawny.
It was the last thing he had from his family.
Shivering and dizzy, alone in the near-dark and cold, he tried not to cry, focusing on Tawky. He always felt warmer when holding Tawky, but he was no substitute for having a family. He tried to recall the faces of his dad, mom, and sister, but it was all blurs. He shivered in fright this time. Was he forgetting his family?
No, no, he just needed to eat, he told himself. As Billy, he hadn’t eaten in four days. (He really wished he could sneak some food from the Justice League cafeteria, but he didn’t want anyone asking any questions).
He pulled out the burger, reveled in its smell once more, and chomped down on the delicious, juicy medley of meat and cheese.
And then the world exploded.
()()()
Teth Adam had almost lost track of the usurper in the tunnels. Thankfully, with his speed and wisdom, he had been able to keep close, careful to use the cover of darkness (still, was this Champion oblivious?). The man suddenly took a sharp turn down a tunnel without rails, and, flying to what seemed like a dead end, stopped in front of it. From the corner, Adam watched. The usurper pushed a man-sized rock out of the way and stooped through, lifting it back into place.
Adam noted the rock’s position, but waited. He heard a faint “Shazam!”, felt the magic thrum, and grinned. The man was now vulnerable. His wisdom told him to wait a minute longer, and approach quietly. Hovering to the rock and landing quietly, he deftly moved it out of the way and stooped through himself. Raising back up, his sight revealed that the tunnel in fact expanded further, and not more than a few dozen yards in front of him was an abandoned, derelict subway car.
He could feel it, under his skin—the champion was in there. He did not question why, but only steeled himself for the kill. Gathering all his strength, he flew at the metal structure, intent on ramming through its metal shell and slaying the champion before he could even breath in to speak the wizard’s name once more.
- - -
The force of his body slammed into and through the carriage door, sending the entire subway car flying into the dead end, metal shards twisting through the air as the structure crunched. As in slow motion, breaking through the metal shell of the door, Adam flew, hand outstretched toward the neck of the figure he saw hunched in the corner, grabbing his jaw and lifting him up as the metal screeched around them.
“Now, ‘Champion’, you will d—”
Ancient brown eyes met young, cornflower blue.
Gods, a child?
- - -
In shock, he dropped the child.
With most of the roof of the carriage gone in the destruction, the dim tunnel lamp shone through, illuminating his features. A thin, tiny child, with black hair and dirty clothes, gasped at the impact of the drop, raised his head to look at Adam, opened his mouth in a silent attempt to speak, and promptly collapsed. A scruffy stuffed tiger fell from his fingertips.
Gods, the cursed wizard had set up a mere boy against Mighty Adam?
He looked closer at the collapsed figure, and realized with dismay that the boy was bleeding profusely; shards of metal had pieced his thin clothes, and his head was bleeding from being thrown against the wall from the concussive blast of his entry.
Fear had shone in the child’s eyes.
Gods, he had harmed a child.
He dropped to his knees amidst the twisted metal of the floor.
He tried to shut his eyes from the sight. But even in his mind’s eye, all he could see was the body of a broken child.
Gon. Hurut. And now, this child, a child he did not even know the name to.
He bellowed in grief.
The Wisdom of Zehuti chided him. The boy might still live, if he acted quickly.
Yes, he would take the boy. Save him. Save him from the wizard’s grasp. Save him from this destitution—he had seen this frailty before, from starvation and neglect, in the children of his country before he had overthrown their corrupt dictator.
He could not save Gon and Hurut, but he could save this child. He would be his child now, and grow up happy and strong, as Gon and Hurut should have.
Firm in his resolve, he uncoupled his half-cape. He gingerly picked up the broken child and wrapped him in it, before halting, and on second thought, grabbed and tucked the stuffed tiger under the child’s limp arms.
He quickly flew out of those cursed tunnels of darkness.
Nobody would ever be allowed to hurt this child again. He would not make the same mistake twice. Fate had offered him a third son, and he would not let anyone take this one away.