Episode 5: Feathered Serpent: Part 11

SANTA PRISCA, CARIBBEAN

JULY,22, 2010, 9.00 PM

This guy is bad news. Perhaps even more than Kobra.

I don't know him. But then my comic book culture is pretty much restricted to Vertigo and other famed comics. If he's an obscure character, I wouldn't know him. Except I don't think he comes from this side. His presence makes my legendary senses tingle, he's of the other part of the universe and that makes him dangerous. Gods below know how much I hate the unknown. Also I don't trust any man or creature who would abase herself to Jeffrey Burr. Guy must have a way with words to convince so many people he's a god, but I don't see how. I mean the guy has no referenced superpower and is just a martial artist!

This man, well I somehow doubt he's human with all the tingling, looks more the part of an ancient god; His skin is pale, not Caucasian but downright corpse-white. He's rather lean for a warrior but I'm not fooled by his leanness: his muscles are dry and leathery, even mummy-like in appearance. But it's the costume that strikes me. It borders on decency: A loincloth of colored feathers, arms and legs rings of copper and gold, a feathered shield on one arm, the traditional mace with shards of obsidian whose name I cannot spell or say right to save my life. On his head is a high helm, nearly a crown with long feathers at the back like a ponytail. Well I thought I was transported in the D.C universe, not Tekken. If he transforms in a bat-winged fire-breathing demons I'm out.

Still the comparison is not apt. He's perfectly sentient and while I hate the way he looks at me and smile while his bestial companion growls at Superrboy, I cannot deny there is far more than animal cunning in them, still his eyes are blue as ice and as cold as a serpent. I suppose Kobra hiring policies for metahuman include an obligation to be snake-themed. His speech is slow with strange undertones, as if he spoke and was instantly translated. Which it totally could, I don't know if I gain the mastery of languages the gods speak when I channel them:

"Strange." Fortunately for my ears he doesn't accentuate comically the s or do any useless hissing sounds. Thank the gods for small mercies: "I didn't expect any of my kin to come oppose us." There is no warmth in his words and the manner he says kin implies no good. I heard people say enemies with less coldness. And I remember all the enemies of the Teotl or almost are part of their family as it is normal for gods; I hold firmly to my turquoise mace, wondering how it will transform when I mantle the Hummingbird. After all the scepter is a god in his own right. Still I try to slow the situation a max the time my comrades can confirm who is arrived.

"You are no kin of mine." I say firmly. "My kin is mortal men walking under the sun and I suspect yours to be an higher lineage." Flattery has always been the downfall of many a monster and this one seems no exception. He even signals the mutant next to him to hold back while I do the same to Jon. Time is on your side anyway The League will arrive soon and clean up any mess we leave. Strange how simply contacting them in time can change things left and right.

"Don't disparage yourself son of Huitzilopochtli." What? He believes I'm the son of the god I'm channeling? That could serves me well in other cases, or urges some people to try to kill me with more ardor. "Even if you are but a bastard's bastard you can still claim to be my great-nephew" So the Blue's uncle? At least one of them? Let's see, the Hummingbird was born when his siblings tried to kill their mother for her alleged misconduct. Her husband was Mixcoatl who had… Fuck. I quickly cast my thoughts around, first to Jon, next to the others.

"Superboy, when the fight breaks out, ditch your opponent and run to the jungle." I don't care for his puzzlement. "The rest disperse at the first occasion and warn the League. This guy is a bona-fide god!" Well a very lesser god. A god whose only claim to fame is to be killed endlessly by his brothers. A god who would be lucky to even have a name known to mortals. Still even the lowest order of divine being is a step above my capacity of mantling. I ask Vergil with a nervous tone: "If he's what he claims to be. What would be his powers?" A second doesn't pass before I have the answers. Starlight, the power of a snake and perhaps some proficiency in war. Not the worst I could have seen. Still I can't resist to show off a little:

"I believed the Centzonmimixcoa to be all dead. They say your brother slew you all, hunted you to the last." He grins and his fangs are those of a snake and his forked tongue pass through them.

"Death means nothing to the gods. The stars of the North still are bright and so are we. I am Itzcoatl, snake of obsidian and one of the Four Hundred." He pauses; "Such a shame I'm bound to seek your death. People rarely knows of us these days." You mean people rarely knows you were slaughtered because you were lazy layabouts that didn't care a whit for their place and duty to the universe. Yet I shudder to think by what means you escaped Tartarus. Except if you lie or are simply an avatar of course.

On the tarmac, the Team sees a mercenary nicknamed Sportsmaster arrive and try to deal with Kobra who seems insistent he takes some echantillons of the drug. When they hear the drug enables to fight "mano-a-mano with the Justice League", my comrades charge them.

Fight breaks loose and chaos rules over all.