Superman: Man of Tomorrow

9:04 AM

9:04 AM

Bill Batson dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, grabbing his empty tray as he exited the cafeteria. His bones creaked, echoing forlornly with his every other step. The years hadn't been kind to him. His body had started falling apart shortly after he retired from superhero business.

What did he really have left, after seven decades of superheroism? His work skills were nonexistent. He hadn't gone to school since he dropped out in eighth grade. He was too old to work with his hands.

He had found some decent work as a librarian in the Queens library. He always did like books, and getting lost in their worlds. It wasn't easy getting the job, but it was worth it.

On his way back to the front, Bill saw that a doe-eyed kid was stuck in the comic book section, eyeing a stack of Captain Marvel books high on the shelf. Bill smiled.

"Here, let me get that for you," Bill said, grabbing the books. He lead the boy to the reading section, putting the books gingerly down on a table. "These are a little old for you, aren't they?"

"Yeah. But I am doing a project for school, so I need to go through, like a ton of these."

"Sounds like a lot of hassle."

"Not really. These are actually pretty cool. Corny, but cool. I mean, we all know Dr. Sivanna was a lot more dangerous in real life, but he just keeps talking about his evil plans instead of offing the Marvels once and for all. It's pretty funny."

Bill chuckled. He had to give the guys at DC some major props. He didn't think that a bunch of Jewish kids could make a war hero and a member of the Justice Society goofy enough for the kids, but they pulled that off pretty well.

"You look pretty old, mister. Tell me, do you know if Captain Marvel really used to say holey moley?"

"Is that too hard to believe?"

"That sounds like a pretty dumb thing to say."

Bill frowned. Kids were hard to please these days.

"Well, I will leave you to figure out your schoolwork, kid. Check these out with me in the front if you need to take them home."

The kid nodded, already immersed between the aged, yellowish pages.

By the time Bill returned to his place, however, there were two men waiting for him. It was Elijah Snow, dressed in his bespoke white overcoat, accompanied by a rather reluctant Freddie Freeman. And by the looks on their faces, neither of them bore any good news.

"If you come by like this in my place of work, Snow, then things must be pretty much dire," Bill said, barely caring enough to hide the vitriol in his tone.

"They are, old man. We need you to come back."

"I hung up my cape for a reason. Don't think bringing Freddie out here like this is going to make me change my mind."

"Look, Bill," Freddie began, hand scratching his stubble. "I wouldn't be here if we didn't need every last heavy we could find. And you are as heavy as they come. You killed the High, for God's sake."

"Thanks for reminding me about that," Bill said gravely. Fighting the High was something he never wanted to do, but his hand had been forced.

"I know you miss Mary, Bill. We all do. But we need to put aside our past here. We are fighting for the future."

"Alright. Can it wait ten more minutes? That's when my shift ends."

Snow and Freddie looked at each other, both of them sighing. "Age hasn't been kind to you, has it?" Snow asked, fidgeting with his lighter.