Disclaimer: I own neither the DC universe nor the Worm universe; these belong to DC and Wildbow respectively.

The more he took stock of the situation, the more J'onn felt horrified.

The Justice League had naturally been alarmed by the appearance of a tear in space-time, and the presence of what had appeared to be an eldritch abomination curled around a set of alternate earths had spurred immediate action. He had attempted to read the thing's mind…

Well, he couldn't really remember what happened immediately after that. He had awoke an indeterminate amount of time later to find himself stripped of his powers and gripped by cascading, chaotic visions. At first, the sheer terror of it had paralyzed him, but after a while he had calmed down enough to notice patterns in what he saw.

He began to recognize a few of the people in the visions. A disheveled man who rambled, his words suddenly and unpredictably shifting in clarity. Two men and one woman, a set of three heroes, who often hovered in the periphery of his field of vision battling huge monsters. They weren't the only people fighting, but they certainly seemed to show up consistently over the numerous conflicts over the years. Years – Somehow, he knew the intervals between the events, though he couldn't put dates to them.

These are memories. That was why he could put a name to the scruffy looking man who he could only half understand. Or how he felt a reflexive dislike of some of the heroes he saw in the visions, in spite of having never met them.

He had acquired enough control now to open his eyes, and to his shock, J'onn found he was underwater. It was a bit longer before he was able to find the ability to rise towards the surface. Though he no longer had telepathy, or, as far as he could see, the ability to density-shift, he seemed to have acquired a new set of powers, one of which bore him easily to the surface.

He looked down at his body, and was struck again by surprise. He saw what appeared to be the body of an ordinary human cast in gold, and also apparently impervious to water. He flexed his fingers, testing whether they really belonged to him. Even as he did so, a host of new visions poured forth. Some were of events, but many seemed to contradict each other. Delusions? Or… possible futures? Somehow he knew this answer was correct. Other visions were more like unbidden ideas, hinting at other, stranger powers that this body might possess.

None of these powers, nor the fact that he'd regained control of his self, had done much to cheer him up. It wasn't so much that he had no idea whether he could get home, or whether the rest of the League was all right. Rather it was that, judging by the memories he had seen, the golden man whose body he now inhabited, and which had once been an avatar, of sorts, of the being they'd attacked, was known to this world as a hero, perhaps its greatest hero.

He used his power to rise into space. It was a slow process, relative to what, say, Superman could have accomplished. But J'onn had no desire to test the body's limits. He surveyed the earth.

There was no sign of the League.

If they all sacrificed their lives, and I my body, to destroy something which was, in the end, a hero… The thought was appalling. It was the same disease many of his people suffered with respect to the white Martians, and it just might have cost them everything. Two worlds, robbed of their best heroes, over something so foolish.

Well, the Leaguers who attacked the creature – Zion- the name came unbidden, as his consciousness integrated further with his new body – might still be alive. Even the real Zion might still be alive, though it – perhaps, he- had, at the bare minimum, abandoned the form he took when serving mankind.

And whatever else he was, it was clear that this Zion was a hero among heroes. A more thorough inspection of his memories showed countless good deeds – kittens rescued, monsters stopped, wars interrupted.

J'onn briefly wondered if his new powers might include the ability to traverse the multiverse. But he dismissed this thought out of a sense of obligation. After all, he was at least partially responsible for depriving this world of a great champion. The least he could do was try to fill the latter's shoes.