The Never-Ending Final Boss Battle

Well, here we are with the final installment of DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths. This blog started out as other than Crisis. Do not underestimate what that means to me. No more twelve issue epics! No more cast of thousands clusterfucks! No more poorly paced editorially mandated chess piece storytelling! I feel like dancing. Hi diddly dee! An actors life for me!... Oh wait, I still have to sit down and write my thoughts on the final issue. Shit. Sit down everybody. This is probably going to hurt.
This started as a project of me summarizing the first few issues of the series to my boyfriend on a 6 hour road trip to visit my folks, then writing them down afterwards so I could properly gather my thoughts. Wrapping up the series at long last gives a sense of freedom. I can read something

I'm just going to get this out of the way now: this isn't working as a cover for the final issue of an epic 12-issue event. It doesn't sell that sense of climactic urgency it should have at this point. Just because the main antagonist is huge, that doesn't imply that the scope of the issue is. This is supposed to be the final issue of the series that redefined the cosmology of the DC Universe for a quarter century. It should give the sense that the fate of the whole universe rests on the edge of a knife. Instead, it's just a bunch of heroes smashing a giant monster. It feels routine, like Anti-Monitor is still referring to the Rita Repulsa Playbook.

It reminds me a lot of the first issues of Fantastic Four and Justice League of America, where the heroes are basically fighting kaiju monsters on the cover. If that were intentional, I might be able to find some reason to appreciate it, since the founding of the Justice League was really the moment that gave birth to DC's shared universe... and now we behold last final gasps of air of the cumbersome, convoluted serpent it nursed in its bosom.

If I disregard it's editorial context, the art isn't bad. Although, I do find it a little busy. I think the culprit would have to be the crosspatch of black lines that make up the cityscape in the background. Granted, most of the lines do draw the eye to the central focal point of the page, but there is just so many of them that they come into conflict with the lead to the focal point that the flying heroes are creating with their motions. They distract from one another. Removing the cityscape could have done this issue a world of good. Otherwise, it's fine.

So remember last issue when that handful of characters with whom I wasn't familiar enoughto care about found the lifeless Brainiac ship adrift in space? Well, they're back! And this time, Wolfman was good enough to give me a quick blurb about each of them, so I have at least some context for each one. Still, it's a bit of a failure to captivate. Yes, there is Adam Strange, who we saw way back in issue #4 of  the series and was kind of hilarious when he appeared on Young Justice. And there's Rip Hunter, with whom I'm pretty familiar from Legends of Tomorrow (and ye gods, do I need to take a brief sidebar about how he looks here), but for the most part, this is a group of characters with whom I have only the most cursory of familiarity or less. Dolphin had a pointless cameo that led to nothing a while back. I've at least heard of Animal Man, although his description here makes him sound like Vixen plus a Y chromosome. Atomic Knight and Captain Comet? Sorry, I got nothing.

So, as for the pressing diatribe I need to have about Rip Hunter's personal appearance in this era? What other way can I summarize it other than "Flash! Ah-ah!! He's a miracle!" Granted, he looks more like something out of the old comics or the tv serials and not the glorious piece of 80's shlock that I hold so dearly. Still, I feel like this is both warranted and necessary...

Yeah, it was either this clip or the opening scene. I had to make a judgement call and this better reflected how silly and pointless this moment is in the comics. Why, you ask, do I find it silly and pointless? Well because it mainly serves to reiterate what we learned from them last issue. Namely that they found Brainiac and his vessel lifeless in space. That covers the pointless. As for silly, they over-dramatically infer that maybe, just maybe, Brainiac isn't dead after all. No shit, Sherlock! Were they deluded enough to think the reader would buy the fakeout of an off-panel death for one of their key character's chief antagonists? I am convinced this entire sequence could be re-drawn with everyone with derp-face and it would actually improve that reveal. But yeah, their assertion is that he's only sleeping. Like when your dog is only sleeping before your dad takes him to a farm upstate.

The gears start a whirling, and the ship reanimates Brainiac. Amazingly enough, they somehow manage to wrangle one of the archest of villains in the DCU into assisting them without really holding any leverage over him to do so. A couple issues back, the Spectre had to step in as a literal deux ex machina in order to get everyone to cooperate again, but this list of C-Listers somehow have the right stuff. This turn happens over the course of one page. That's roughly about a minute-long interaction. Animal Man makes a reference to Star Trek as Brainiac's vessel blasts off in search of even more assistance. I'm a bit confused, honestly. I didn't realize that they were actively seeking him out and specifically to the end of requesting aid. Imminent danger creates strange bedfellows, I understand, but as far as these characters realize, there is no immediate threat, at least as far as they are aware. There is no reason for them to form this alliance.

We cut to Perez' favorite thing to draw in Crisis multiple panels of the Earth. It is surrounded by a swirling vortex of pink evil antimatter clouds. It appears the Earth has been plucked from its orbit and brought, "Here to this burning cosmic hell. Here to this place of death." Note that it only says that the Earth was, not the entire universe. Again, another instance where we see just how oversold the Anti-Monitor was back when we first met him. There are tiers of supervillainy and Anti-Monitor's tier is so high above what the heroes of Earth can muster that he by all rights should be Lovecraftian, treating the collective resistance of one planet with all the intensity of a swarm of gnats, among many. He could summarily throw the entire dimension into his little hellscape. Instead, he keeps going out of his way to stick it to the same few flies he can't manage to swat.

We pick up here exactly where we left last time, meaning that Anti-Monitor is still projected in the sky looking like a very cheap version of the 80s equivalent of of computer generated 3-D imaging. Apparently, Anti-Monitor dislodged the Earth from its orbit because it alone had an anti-matter shield. Okay. Since when? I'll acknowledge that the hard reboot that reality has suffered means that the protective pocket dimension the Monitor used to rescue the five remaining realities is no longer in play. However, it makes no sense in the rebooted, condensed continuity for the Earth to be the only one with protections against antimatter. Nobody remembers the Crisis except for the heroes, who were still sussing out the cobbled together continuity and hadn't even given a thought to preparing for phase umpteen hundred of the Anti-Monitor's strategy. Either the whole of reality should have been still safeguarded or it all should have been vulnerable. I know multiversal designations go by Earth-1, Earth-2, etc., but they are referring to whole dimensions populated with alien races who generally tend to outclass Earth's technology. I refuse to believe Apokalips and New Genesis had weaker planetary defenses than the planet that in 1984 had only just acknowledged it had a hole in its ozone layer and would have thought dial-up internet was futuristic.

From on high, Anti-Monitor monologues about how this little blue mudball somehow keeps managing to thwart him where countless dimensions were devoured and consumed helpless and how they've only made their end worse by prolonging it. Again, this feels odd that as a quasi-deity, he feels the need to deliver a lengthy verbal smackdown to, comparatively, a bunch of ants. And now all I can think of is an especially vindictive homeowner gloating to himself as he sets up a bug bomb, only to accidentally get sick from inhaling the pesticides.

The speed force prohibits
internal monologues.

Interesting little side note: during his diatribe, Anti-Monitor mentions that Supergirl and Flash died fighting him. I like how the series has made a point of not letting us forget that Barry's sacrifice went unremarked. So, it makes the quick cut to Wally's reaction feel deserved. Finally the heroes know the final fate of their fellow companion. Of course why Wally shouts out asking how he died and where his remains are, as though expecting Anti-Monitor to interrupt his proclamation to take questions, is a bit of a head scratcher.

Once he's done speechifying, he disappears along with the evil antimatter cloud, which seems to have been the sole form of natural source lighting as the entire world turns pitch black. It's only because of their super-vision that they can see that, as happens whenever there is no light in a major metropolitan area, chaos ensues. We see a few images of mass panic, but it's probably safe to assume there is also looting.

Just to be on the safe side, say five "Our Fathers" and two
Hail Marys."

Harbingers appears before the two Supermen, and recruits them. They are ready to take Anti-Monitor out. MORE IMPORTANTLY... Next we see another one of Harbingers split selves recruiting the best DC character in Crisis, Dr. Kimiyo Hoshi, aka Dr. Light. She seems to have undergone some character development since she is far more unsure of herself since last we saw her as a featured character. This is because during Supergirl's battle against the Anti-Monitor, Kimiyo called out to her at a crucial moment and Anti-Monitor delivered the killing blow while she was distracted. Harbinger reassures her that Supergirl was already dying and Dr. Light only helped end her suffering sooner. Thus reassured, they peace out, leaving fellow Japanese superhero Sunburst all by his lonesome.

Elsewhere, the Challengers of the Unknown are still just standing around doing the whole Greek chorus thing as they behold a veritable armada of the Anti-Monitor's shadow demons. After 12 issues of this series, I'm starting to realize why certain "new to me" characters strike a chord with me right away and others feel pointless: agency and purpose. Take Dr. Light, who is amazing. Even before the Monitor imbued her with powers, she was empowered. She suffered no fools, was actively pursuant in her personal science mission, and showed a whole lot of personality in a relatively brief amount of panel time. Meanwhile, I think this is the third time we've encountered them in this series and I still have very little idea of who they are as individuals. At least with Rip Hunter's ragtag team out in space, they all have a little chance to show some personality and be active protagonists in their subplot. These guys just keep on being utilized to point shit out and declare how important it is. That requires an entire superhero team. Marvel just uses one alien who lives on the moon. Just saying...

Who needs a character arc when you can settle for staring at things intensely?

Speaking of Uatu, I just want to mention that the more i look at them, the more I can't help but notice that they bear a striking resemblance to what the Fantastic Four would look like if they hadn't had that run-in with cosmic rays. The team girl is a dead ringer for Sue. The big, stocky guy could be Ben Grimm whenever we see him in human form. Ye gods, and he's named Rocky. This can't be a coincidence can it? One of these guys is named Prof, so that takes care of Reed, and both the blond guy and the ginger guy could easily be mistaken for Johnny. One of them is even a pilot. A quick search on Wikipedia reveals that they were created by Jacky Kirby. Well, now all the puzzle pieces are falling into place.

From here, we have about two and a half pages of padding in which we see heroes around the globe combating shadow demons and doing protect and rescue missions. I have to assume the rescuers are having a higher rate of success than the shadow demon combatants. If you'll remember my recap of issue #1, it's basically shadow boxing.

Hey look! Blue Devil is back on Earth. Well, now I can sleep easy at night knowing he made it back after we left him hanging four issues ago. As an extension of the series' overarching failure to establish a cohesive POV is its tendency to introduce significant characters into the narrative who seem like they're going to be major players, only for their stories to wander off with a note from the editor telling them where to read the continuation of their narratives. I get it. Comic companies want your money. It's the way of the world. That being said, if you're going to do that, take a moment to re-introduce those characters back into the narrative so that readers like me who either aren't picking up every comic on the store shelves or are reading this literally decades later aren't left scratching their heads.

A few mystically-inclined heroes, including Deadman, seem to be gathering to protect the Spectre, who is apparently comatose and hovering over Harbinger's staging area after his big confrontation against the Anti-Monitor. I'm guessing he's still going to prove to be an important element for the conclusion of the story, since they are focusing their powers on safeguarding him. I actually like Deadman, at least the way he's written here. He has this worldly wise, kind of flippant attitude and a beta male energy that keeps him from coming across like quite such a grizzled loner as his M.O. would suggest. .

What's the use of being on guard duty if you can't warn anyone?

Harbinger in the meanwhile, has assembled a pretty large team of heroes and is discussing with them the importance of putting differences aside and working as a team to save the day. Friendship is magic, right? Jade takes a moment to explain why her father, Green Lantern Alan Scott, is over at The Tower of Fate with the other magic heroes. It really comes out of nowhere without any prompting and it comes across like she's telling us that her dog at her homework. Alexander is now fully charged with antimatter again and uses it to break through the barrier of evil antimatter clouds and teleport our cast of characters through. All the while, Deadman, who is still with the magic heroes watches as apparently one of the shadow demons (it just looks like a bunch of squiggly parallel lines) seems to rush away, potentially giving Anti-Montor an early warning of what the heroes are up to, which I'm honestly not clear on.

Far away, in space, Brainiac has taken his new-found allies to someone who can help on a planet that looks like an industrial fire. Oh, of course. This is Apokalips. Who else would be in an A-List villain's rolodex but other A-List villains. Hey Darkseid. How's tricks? You may recall back in issue 8 having a page-long visit with Darkseid where he might as well directly addressed the reader and says he's too good for this story. I'm annoyed that the scene cuts off with his reveal because I really want to see Darkseid react to getting forcibly dragged into this narrative at the 11th hour.


Back on Earth, Hawk and Dove are on a rescue mission when Dove gets impaled from behind by a shadow demons. That has to be an extra twist in the knife. Not only was he killed, but he was killed by a literally nameless, faceless henchman.

At least these guys will have a bit of payoff from spending
so much time staring intensely

Over at the Tower of Fate, all the mystic heroes are ready for their part of the final mission. They also have one hanger on monitoring the news named Johnny Thunder. I know nothing about Johnny Thunder, but I can say that he and Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen probably go to the same tailor. We get a pretty cool image of all the mystic heroes channeling their powers into Doctor Occult and OG Green Lantern. We don't know what they are doing, but it looks like it's going to be massive in scope. Sidebar: Doctor Occult's Mystic Symbol of the Seven might have been produced by the Umbrella Corporation.

Next stop, Qward. Yeah, things didn't exactly go smoothly the last time our heroes were here. Kryptonians are vulnerable here and Supergirl died here, so I'm expecting some scenes of self-doubt. They attempted to use Pariah's tragedy magnet powers to act as a compass to find Anti-Monitor, but there is just too much evil all around them for it to work.

Well, considering you're retired, and a minor,
and apparently dying...

But hey, who invited the kid? Yeah, apparently Wally West stowed away. That was Wally zipping into the group, not a shadow warrior. He sounds a bit miffed that he wasn't invited along, since they now know the Anti-Monitor killed Barry and Wally thinks he ought to be included in bringing back his remains. It's actually a good surprise, but with so much going on in this series, I feel like we needed another moment with Wally earlier to set up this surprise a little better. He is pretty snippy about not being tapped for this mission, but considering we later find out (and were earlier hinted at a few issues ago) that he is dying of cancer that gets aggravated when he uses his speed, perhaps they were right not to utilize him. Yet again.

Suddenly, they see a vision of The Flash. Remember during Barry's big sacrifice when he saw flashes of friends? This is one of them. It fades away, but Wally can still see traces of the after image and runs after it and finds his empty costume and ring as well as a now fully cray cray Psycho-Pirate hysterically begging the red suit for aid as though it were really Barry.

Guys, quit grieving. The plot is off the starboard bow!

Suddenly, Pariah's Canary in the coal mine sense starts tingling and we turn the page... and we get a final splash page of the Anti-Monitor rambling on about the wanton doom of all things again. [Sidebar: he's still gigantic, like he was during the last climactic fight, if not even moreso, so I have to question if people in the DCU have a widespread inability to use peripheral vision, detect background noise, or feel the ground shake under their feet] Oh, wait. Did I say final splash page? My mistake. We're only halfway through this sucker. Apparently, this series thinks a double sized issue is literally two issues taped together.

This might as well have been followed
with an intermission sign.
"Let's all go to the lobby..."

Before I continue, I feel like I really need to go back to another bugbear I have about Anti-Monitor. Not only has he been fairly ineffectual to the point that I've been comparing him to Rita Repulsa a lot (I resisted the urge to compare Dove's death to the Pink Power Ranger getting killed by a Putty, or at least I did until now), but we cannot deny the fact that Anti-Monitor isn't an engaging villain. A good villain doesn't think he's a villain. Magneto just wants to safeguard his species. Dr. Doom just wants to run his country and prove how much better he is at everything than that fool Richards. Lex Luthor (at least post-Crisis) wants to prove that humanity doesn't need to be protected by demi-gods. They're all rooted in their relatable  human goals, albeit often flawed ones. Then there are the characters like Batman's rogues gallery, the majority of which are damaged and ultimately tragic. When they retconned away Mr Freeze's backstory so that he was never trying to save his wife, he was just psychotically fixated on some random lady, I was genuinely upset and thought it cheapened the character. That's how important an understandable villain is. But what is the Anti-Monitor? He is literally just evil incarnate. Hell, they brought an evil detector with them. He has no traits a reader can identify with, he isn't exactly a charming scenery chewer like Mr. Sinister or the Joker, he doesn't even have a feasible objective like Apocolypse or Darkseid. He's just there to be someone everyone of all walks of life can punch. They even made sure he had no body so that characters can wail on him for hours on end without the Comics Code Authority complaining about the blood. If you took a Tickle Me Elmo, switched it to Punch Me Elmo and the voicebox played proclamations of your inevitable doom, you'd have the Anti-Monitor.

Okay, now that I'm done with that rant... for now... let's get back to the story. We leave the heroes with Anti-Monitor in his Super Ultimate Digevolution and check in back on Earth. We see Aquaman and his crew fighting shadow demons underwater with a casualty in the form of Lori the Mermaid. I have to wonder how central to the line certain deaths are based on whether they happen in montage sequences or are given their own scenes. I know today, Aquaman has become a bit of a cheap shortcut to a punchline, but he is one of DC's Big Seven, rules his own kingdom, has a fantastically Arthurian-inspired backstory, and at least in this era, can hold his head high for never having stooped to using a harpoon as a hand. However, amidst all the deaths in this issue, we have a full scene devoted to the fall of an Atlantian character who bears the name of Lori the Mermaid. And this is the second time one of his supporting characters have been offed with this amount of special attention. It makes me wonder whether they were a) fan favorites, b) creative team favorites, or c) editorially mandated.

Not even mass casualties will interrupt the Olympics of Staring Contests.

The next scene is a a fantastic two page layout ithat intersplices the Mystic Heroes' efforts with a variety of heroes protecting civilians on the street. Yeah, there's a sizable body count here. Green Arrow-2 gets impaled in the very first panel of the sequence. Robin-2 and Kole of the Teen Titans try to rescue Huntress, who is trapped under the rubble of a fallen building. Kole throws up a crystal dome barrier, but nobody in this series seems to get the essential problem of fighting an incorporeal foes. Instead of protecting Huntress she effectively traps all three of them for the shadow demons to kill without hindrance. Smart move, Kole. How did you make it to #13 on Ranker's list of Teen Titans?  Clayface and the Bug-Eyed Bandit are taken out too, but I think the roughest death in this scene has to go to Prince Ra-Man, who by all rights would have been better off contributing his services at the Tower of Fate, but instead looks like he gets sliced clean in half at the waist. I'm thankful this was back when the CCA still had some modicum of control over how graphic violence and gore could be.

Plan B was Mega Maid from Spaceballs.

All while this is going on, the two page layout's center is dominated by the image of all the mystic characters focusing their powers while basked in a green glow. Visually, it amounts to them all staring really hard at Dr. Occult and Alan Scott, who are staring really hard at each other. But then finally, the Mystic Heroes efforts reach fruition and a mystically enhanced chain of Green Lantern energy spreads across the globe gathering up all the shadow demons in a giant net and throwing them out into space.

Eventually, writers will realize that dickishness and heroism
aren't mutually exclusive.

With Earth out of danger, or at least less imperiled,  we return to the main event in Qward. Everybody is smashing and blasting, but it doesn't seem to be effective at all. Sound familiar? Yeah, that was issue #10, minus the mystically enhanced Spectre ex machina to lend an assist. However, unlike then or their ill-fated previous trip to Qward, Harbinger actually has a plan. Yeah, it took her a year in publication to realize that a united show of force is nothing without a strategy. The linch pins of her strategy are Dr. Light and Alex Luthor. Dr. Light absorbs the power of a neighboring binary star. I suppose that Anti-Monitor is also using it as a power supply because doing so drains him. Next, Alex uses his biological affinity towards antimatter to siphon off our villain's own energy. All the while, his tired villainy ramblings continue.

Now that he's weakened, Negative Woman wraps herself around Anti-Monitor binding him into place and more than likely infecting him with her radioactive touch. Ye gods, I just realized this is a final boss battle in a video game. It's like X-Men Legends or Avengers Ultimate Alliance. The party is pitted against a gargantuan foe, before we can do any damage, first we have to cut off his power source, and now we're applying multiple debuffs in one strike, which both cuts into his agility and causes damage over time. Well thus weakened, the rest of the party lines up for a Care Bear Stare and yay for teamwork! The Final Boss'  first form has been KO'd! And just in time soon. Even a seasoned hero would be taxed siphoning off an entire sun, so it's impressive that she had all that power contained as long as she did. She released all the energy, delivery the final blow to Anti-Monitor, embedding him into the crust of a nearby asteroid.

Danger's over, right?

Hell, no! But the comic sure wants to fool you.

You know when a toddler throws a tantrum when he clearly
needs a nap, but doesn't want it? Yeah. I'm so over this guy.

Well, Alexander re-opens a portal back to the positive matter universe wide enough to get the Earth through, but I suppose an opening that large expends a lot of mana because it expends all his energy and there is a ticking clock to get through the portal before it seals itself shut. The Earth gets through safely and is restored to its original orbit. The heroes then start flying toward the opening when we see life return to the Anti-Monitor's eye. The mystically ensnared collection of shadow demons is drawn to Qward. He completely drains them all of their life force in order to repower himself. Again, that feels like something out of a boss battle.

Okay, villain points for killing one of the Big Three.
You did something right, Anni.

That being said, his actions are pretty bad ass, taking out Wonder Woman-1 with a single blast, but his dialogue paints Anti-Monitor as having become truly become utterly pathetic, outright declaring that he doesn't care about consuming the last positive matter universe or even destroying the Earth. His driving ambition is petty revenge against beings who are gnats compared to him. He has lost sight of what his goal ought to be, but more dishearteningly, the writers have lost sight of why he ought to be an imposing threat. Gone are his complex designs of multiversal destruction with nary a thought other than expanding his dominions. Now all we have is petty jerk with too much power.

No seriously, what is up with everyone's
peripheral vision?

Well, Superman-1 has had all he can stands, he can stands no more! Having lost his cousin and now one of his besties, he's determined to take Anti-Monitor out. And Lady Quark is right there with him. Of course, this makes it convenient for Superman-2 to knock the two of them out in one fell swoop. He hands them off to Superboy-Prime and with orders to get them through the portal before it closes. It's a suicide mission and a noble sacrifice that Superman-2 declares he's making because he has no reason to live without Lois-2.

The Anti-Monitor vs Superman-2 showdown is the battle we've all been waiting for. It feels visceral in a way very few fights against him have been save for Supergirl's. It's an interesting parallel that the best fights in the season were fought in the name of either saving or avenging a familial bond. Supergirl saved her cousin and Old Man Kent fights to avenge his wife being erased from memory.

Seriously, guy?

Of course, this far into the final boss battle, Anti-Monitor's life bar is probably at 45% and this is further exacerbated by the fact that he totally fell for a Trojan Horse scenario. It turns out when Team Mystic ensnared his shadow warriors, they infected them with some magical malware and left them all trapped where he would surely find them.

Closer to the portal, Alex Luthor's strength is waning thin, and Superboy's window of opportunity grows short. However, Superboy realizes that like Superman-2, he has nothing to go back to back on Earth, in fact even less when you think about it, and wants to aid Superman-2 in this last stand. So he just tosses Lady Quark and Superman-1 through the closing portal like a sack of potatoes as the portal closes, trapping him, Superman-2, and Alex Luthor inside as apparently Alex had to seal the rift from their side.

Ye gods, Ganondorf isn't even this hard to kill. Stay the fuck down!

For some reason, though, Alex's eyes begin glowing and feels a surge of energy within him, and soon we soon find out why. We watch the epic battle between Superman-2 and Anti-Monitor literally through Alex's eyes. As it turns out, so does Darkseid. Somehow, without having included himself in the story up until this point, he managed to learn enough about Alex's unique physiology in order to co-opt him into a cross-dimensional spycam.

Of course, Darkseid would only do something heroic if it meant
violating someone's agency without asking for consent.

Superboy rejoins the fight just long enough to get knocked on his ass. So it looks like it's still up to Superman-2, who slams him down onto a nearby planet and crushes him with an asteroid. So, Superman-2 is our big damn hero? Wrong, Anti-Monitor gets back up, bereft of his oh so clownish body armor. Although, oddly this time he is different in appearance than when Supergirl destroyed his previous chassis. Maybe the colorist ran out of magenta. He has tapped into the very energy of Qward itself in order to keep himself juiced up. If possible, he's even more desperately pathetic, declaring that he doesn't care if he has to die in the process as long as they all die in the process. Oh, for the love of Mike, why won't this guy die? Well, Darkseid turns his human periscope into a cannon, channeling incredibly potent presumably anti-life energy at Anti-Monitor, vaporizing him.

The Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail
is laughing at you, ya jackass! 

So? Is it safe to wrap things up? Is Darkseid our big damn hero? No. Like any respectable final boss, his final form is even harder to kill than the first 3. This time, he's composed purely of energy. Superman-2, however, is all out of fucks and gives the real, for serious, "no really he's dead, guys," final blow, in what visually comes across looking like an anger-induced Super Punch. He knocks Anti-Monitor into the sun, causing it to explode, and it's only a matter of time before the shockwave ripples forth and puts them out of their misery.

He's here to suck on Werther's Originals and kill Anti-Monitors.
And he's all out of Werher's Originals.

The Superpersons are consigned to their fate, but Alex has another option. So, you know how he's a walking plot device? Not only does he have a way out of their impending doom, but he has solved Superman-2's overarching dilemma since the reboot. It turns out that Lois-2 is alive, and it's all because he protected her from the ravages of continuity reboots by hiding her in a pocket dimension inside himself and never mentioning it until now.

Ewwwww!!!!! Remember when I said he was a creeper?
Was I wrong? Nope! Ewwwww!!!!!

Okay. But wait! This resolution gets weirder. Remember way back to issue #1, you know, back when you could still remember what plausible storytelling looked like? Back on the good old Evil Mirror Universe of Earth-3, Alex's father Lex Luthor was his world's greatest hero, but who was his mother? Hm. That's right-- Lois. In a weird new take on Oedipal Complexes in action, Alex saves his other-universe mommy by putting her inside himself. Apparently, he knew the universe would be reborn. And once again, he never said anything.

The long thrust of the conclusion of their story is that Alex can't get them back home, but the four of them can go into pocket universe that exists within Alex and be safe. I assume Alex going into this pocket dimension is effectively the same as someone pulling their bottom lip over their head and swallowing. For now, however, let's be comforted in the fact that they get a happy ending... at least until Infinite Crisis comes around and gives me a migraine.

Logic takes a holiday.

The rest of the issue is mostly wrap up. Somehow, they manage to retcon Wonder Woman-1's death within the same issue that she died in, which I have to admit is a really fast turn around even by the terms of comic books. No, she didn't die. Instead... okay, what the book says happened and what actually did are different matters. The story makes it sound like Wonder Woman was regressed from woman to girl, to baby, to the clay of Paradise Island. For some reason, that also caused time, relative to the Amazons, to reverse to just before Diana's birth. In reality, Wonder Woman's new origin story happens later, so that she comes to Man's World later relative to the other DCU heroes' first appearances, positioning her as a new comer.

The resolution for Wonder Woman's story is apotheosis.
Just sayin'...

Meanwhile, Wonder Woman-2 is given a place to live on Mount Olympus by the gods. Effectively, this ingrains her on New Earth to the extent that she all but reaches an apotheosis. This, in a new timeline in which nobody has ever heard of Wonder Woman at all, and it installs her in a locus very much tethered to the story of the Wonder Woman series that comes out of Crisis. I'm sure this won't open any continuity plot holes moving forward at all. Nope. None.

Cured just in time for an opening in an ongoing series.
How convenient.

Memorials were made for fallen heroes such as Earth-2's Robin and Huntress, and Kole (whose bodies were never found), as well as Atlantis' Tula and Lori the Mermaid. Meanwhile, Wally West honors Barry Allen's memory in a different way by adopting his late mentor's identity by becoming the new Flash. Oh, and he's cured. Well, that was convenient.

Lyla talks with Pariah and Lady Quark, who are now confirmed BFFs4Life, explaining what I believe amounts to "any remaining continuity gaps we haven't touched upon are simply going to fix themselves." It gives me the sense that continuity hadn't finished resetting itself when they woke up last issue, but now that the Anti-Monitor is gone, the new timeline will solidify itself. The bosom buddies ask Lyla to join them in exploring their new home, and she accepts, now that her father's work is complete, she has a life to live.

"Simba, remember who you are. You are my son and the one true..."
Oops. Wrong cloud ghost speech. Sorry. 

We have a final page-long epilogue. Psycho-Pirate is back where he started, in a psychiatric institution, but this time he's in Arkham Asylum, which means he'll be out on the streets any day now. He yammers on about how he is the only one who remembers the multiverse, confirming the idea that even the heroes who remembered it earlier will forget the previous continuity by the time DC finishes publishing their new origin stories, such as John Byrne's Man of Steel (which unfortunately now shares a moniker with a pretty craptastic piece of Snyder. And by Snyder, I mean "horseshit.") Honestly, I'm not sure if this epilogue  was actually needed, but for a character that was such a sociopathic egotist and the only one complicit in Anti-Monitor's designs, it's actually pretty satisfying to see that final comeuppance. Also the effect of seeing someone who was promised so much, being panned away panel by panel until he vanishes from sight is quite effective.

The End

So, this is the first time in the blog that I've actually finally reached the end of a story arc. I figure this is my time to give my summary thoughts on the endeavor as a whole. I bet I could go on for ages about all my problems with this, but I'm aiming for brevity here.

Before I go into what's wrong with it, I do believe in giving credit when it is due. This could not have been an easy task. It had a seismic amount of continuity to shift about to get DC's shared universe where editorial wanted it to be. Additionally, it had to accomplish this feat even while DC's ongoing line was still publishing stories. Keep in mind that this story was a many-headed hydra with every head coiled around each and every single corner of DC's labyrinthine continuity.

It's also worth mentioning how avant garde this must have been in its time. Crossovers had long been a thing, yes. But never on this scale. The notion of the "Bat Family Crossover" wasn't even a thing yet. Most crossovers were simply between two titles, such as when JLA and the JSA would have their annual team-ups. And even then, a crossover almost assuredly never went on for a whole year or with such grand designs beyond mix in two sets of characters, sell more issues, and maybe tell a good story. This was ambitious and that cannot be understated.

As for my issues with this, a lot of my problems with this book can be summed up with a few bullet points.

• It's unfocused. The series is all over the place and good luck positively identifying a main protagonist in this story. It opts for a cast of thousands with as many pointless cameos as possible rather than zeroing in on a handful of protagonists for the reader to follow on this journey and get invested in. Quantity is confused for quality. Also, the series just fails to figure out what its big objective is. I can count no fewer than six smaller stories that make up the so-called event, one of which is honestly a huge distraction from the event and is so very summarily stopped dead in its tracks that it surpasses plot cul-de-sac and achieves plot escalator to nowhere.
• The length. Crisis somehow manages to feel threadbare and flabby simultaneously. There is a lot of padding in this series. Additionally, it feels less like one big narrative than two and a half events that have been stapled together. And even taking that into consideration, they still don't have enough story for the 12-issue length. Like I said earlier, this sort of thing had never been attempted before and I think they realized halfway through that there wasn't enough story to sustain 12 issues, which is why issues 8-10 feel like a distraction by throwing in Blue Devil's Bogus Journey, just chilling with the Teen Titans, and the utterly pointless and heavily built-up escalator to nowhere that was the united villains subplot. Arguably, the three sizeable acts of this story would have been their own events, or more likely two events with a tentpole branding, such as often happened during Bendis' run on Avengers.
• The villain. He's a cut and dry evil for the sake of evil baddie, which would have been just fine if he behaved as though he were on such a higher level than our heroes that he barely acknowledged their existence, but instead we end up in this weird situation where this very thinly written villain is effectively a Lovecraftian horror with a thing for dick measuring contests. He becomes that golden boy from high school who was the star athlete and student body president, was everybody's hero, and was offered a full ride, but at your 20 year reunion turns out to have completely fucked up his life beyond recognition, never left your home town, has a crappy job, and probably needs an intervention. 

Having said all that, it's an important piece of history both for DC and for the world of long-running shared universes, in general. It also manages to provide a diverse, if not exactly immersive overview of what DC's cosmology was like pre-Crisis. To a point, I don't think it's aged well, but this was still in the era when the comics industry was still shaking off the mentality that they were kids' stuff, and really had yet to be recognized as an artform in its own right, and the structure of the narrative reflects that. Of course, even by the time this series concluded, that attitude was being challenged by The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen, which together changed the landscape of what comics were and how they were perceived. It can actually be argued that the continuity overhaul that Crisis was designed to accomplish also laid the groundwork for a shared universe that better reflected a modern sensibility of storytelling that Watchmen and DKR first keyed into with its audience.

Next Week: We finish up the less frustrating, but also less ambitious final issue of Uncanny Avengers volume 3's Plant Apocalypse arc. After that I think we might be about due for another cinematic palate cleansers before getting started on a couple new ongoing reading projects that are going to be a lot more fun.

Old Man Kent and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Five panels do not equal one cover.

Oddly enough, last week centered around an issue in which an older male character who derailed the narrative flow of the story because he was a square peg forcibly being hammered into a round hole of a story and has a tendency to suck all the air out of the room, so he's constantly pulling focus. This week however, we have an older male character who can literally suck all the air out of the room who wakes up and discovers that he has become a square peg in a round hole and manages to bring true, sorrowful pathos into a series where they just beat a Mega Man boss fight. Join me as I explore DC Comics' Crisis on Infinite Earths #11.

Normally, I would start off giving my opinion of the cover. However, I really don't know how to discuss a cover that doesn't bother to do what a cover is meant to accomplish. Namely, a cover is meant to create a singular unified image that lures in the reader by hinting at what the story inside will be like. In issue #11, however, the cover is a bunch of panels. Issue #3 had done a similar trick, but it had the virtue of using the Monitor looking over the various tableaux depicted like a benevolent deity looking over the world. This on the other hand makes no effort to unify the different images. It's just a collection of unused art thrown together. The individual images are nice, don't get me wrong, but they don't constitute a singular crystallized visual thesis.

Up top, it looks like Kid Flash and Superman-1 are keeping Superman-2 from being sucked into a vortex.

Middle left, Wonder Woman-1 and Donna Troy are facing down Wonder Woman-2 and her daughter, Fury, in Themiscyra. I smell hijinks. Wacky ones.

Dead center Lyla is once again. Or at least her head is, as it stares out at the reader.

Middle right, Dr. Fate, Etrigan, and The Phantom Stranger are coming to the rescue of a character who you'd only recognize in this series if you'd paid attention to the Monitor Tapes last issue.
Down below, an array of characters look on in trepidation, as characters tend to do in this series. What caught my attention in this panel is the number of Bat family members is this panel. Alfred, Batman, and Jason Todd flank an embracing Robin-2 and Huntress. It's basically Batman, his surrogate father and his children both surrogate and natural, both Earth-1 android Earth-2.

The issue starts with an image of the Earth. It echoes back to the first issue where we saw the birth of the multiverse, except the narration makes it clear that there is only one universe now.

Perry doesn't give a single fuck as long
as nobody sits in his spot. See also:
Sheldon Cooper

ERth -2 Clark Kent wakes up in his apartment, thinking that the past 10 issues were a horrible dream. I think "prolonged, poorly paced fever dream" might be a bit closer to the truth than horrible, but on with the show. He's confused as to why his wife Lois isn't by his side, but shrugs it off and gets dressed for work. Once there, he goes to his office as he usually does when he's angrily met with the office's rightful owner Perry White. Clark is confused and lost for words when he is rescued out by the Clark of Earth-1, who passes Clark-2 off as his slightly dotty uncle. There is an exchange between Earth-1 Clark and Perry that suggests that Perry is aware of Clark's dial identity, but Perry is pretty coy about it.

Okay, there is a lot of interaction between these two this issue, so for simplicity's sake, I'll call Earth-1 "Clark" and Earth-2 "Old Man Kent."

The two Supermen suit up and take to the air, attempting to sort out the situation. Old Man Kent concludes that he must simply be on Earth-1 and is eager to get back to his wife. The very next thought he has is to tell Clark that he should settle down with his Lois, too. Geez, Old Man Kent might either be projecting, playing Yente the Matchmaker, or both.

It might be a bit more complicated than Old Man Kent simply being displaced. They both recognize that they woke up that morning thinking the events of crisis were simply nightmares, and for the most part the rest of the world, at least those they've encountered since waking up can't even say that much. There are some things that they recall, albeit hazily. There's common memory of Supergirl dying in battle, but the specifics aren't there anymore. When they touch down on solid confront a cop, who doesn't even recognize Old Man Kent, despite Earth-2 being a long-standing known quantity at this point.

Joan Garrick: Real Housewife of NJ

They resume their flight, but then they spot a sign for the Twin Cities, Central and Keystone City. But wait... aren't they supposed to be opposite reality analogues of one another? Old Man Kent spots the home of Joan and Jay Garrick, the elderly Flash of Earth-2. Joan, who is multitasking cooking barbecue and wearing a bumpit, which makes me think Keystone might be along the Jersey Coast. Maybe Ocean City. Considering Metropolis is supposed to be New York City, it makes sense that this is their first pit stop. Well, Joan recognizes Clark alright, but wonders who his older friend is. It's also fairly well-insinuated that she knows Clark as Superman, whereas previously the Kents and the Garricks were longstanding family friends. Old Man Kent's bewilderment gets to take a break, however, when Jay comes out and hallelujah! Someone recognizes Old Man Kent.


Jay takes the two down to his lab, where we also find Wally West finishing up repairs on the cosmic treadmill. Leave it to the Flash family to caucus and form a plan in the face of confusion faster than anybody else. I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but I kind of love the Allen-West-Garrick clan. They're all noble, if a little bit dorky, but unashamedly so.

The group discuss the details of what appears to be a mixed up, merged timeline, although they dance around outright calling it that. The basic fact of the matter is that in the world in which they all find themselves, characters from Earth-1 and Earth-2 seem to have shared a history... except for Old Man Kent, who nobody remembers.

We're sorry. The reality you dialed is no longer in service.

Jay suspects that they are on neither of their worlds and Old Man Kent seriously doesn't like the sound of that. On that note, Wally lets them know that the Cosmic Treadmill is prepped and ready to go and that he intends to go looking for Barry after they're done here. The four of them but the their pedals to the metal and the Cosmic Treadmill does it's thing. Whereas once, they would have found themselves on another Earth, they now find themselves in a gaping abyss of nothingness.

They realize there are no longer other realities except the one they woke up on. Wally suggests they get back to the remaining world and figure out what's going on, but Old Man Kent, concluding that he doesn't belong in a world where nobody seems to remember him, thinks he's better off here and begins to fly off. Clark grabs him by the cape, preventing him from flying off into oblivion and the speedsters hotfoot the Cosmic Treadmill with all speed to get them out of there before Old Man Kent can break free. They rematerialize back in Jay's workshop and the Treadmill is smashed to smithereens, which is convenient now that it serves absolutely no purpose. Wally suggests that they gather as many people together as possible to figure things out, and he knows just the place...

Behold as your innocence curls up and dies.

So yeah, that last paragraph had a lot going on, so I just want to reiterate this in case it got lost in the shuffle. Superman just attempted suicide. That's a big deal. Not only is it disturbing because, being the Superman of Earth-2, and thus the Golden Age iteration, he's technically the Superman readers have known the longest, but it's also incredibly unsettling when you consider what Superman is. He's a paragon of hope. Hell, that's what the "S" shield on his chest means in Kryptonian. For him to fall into such utter despair over the course of a morning really shakes you and drives home how world shattering this is. For once, I like the fact that this isn't neat and tidy. This is bringing some real pathos without delivering another funeral for a friend/noble sacrifice scenario. Old Man Kent just had his whole world taken away from him and what few people do remember him won't let him take away his own life as well.

Old Man Kent's goth phase came rather late in life...

Elsewhere in space, Rory Williams, er, I mean, Rip Hunter and a bunch of people I don't care about have found Brainiac's space vessel, where both it and Brainiac's body itself seem to be dead or inert. Right. DC Comics is going to kill him twice in three issues and off-panel, no less. Oh, DC. You really have me believing. Let me sign up for a pyramid scheme while I'm at it.

Brainiac's dead? I'll have a better time believing forwarding a
chain letter will bring me riches and fame.

Over at Titans Tower, all the newly condensed world's heroes are gathered to discuss what we already know. Only those of them who were on-site for last issue's climactic battle are able to remember the previous existence of the multiverse. Quite notably, Lyla is once again in her Harbinger persona. When that is questioned after having declared that she'd never be able to be Harbinger again, she asserts that much that once was has been rewritten.

Lyla couldn't wait to try on that
ugly brides maids gown a second time.

There are a lot of heartstring-tugging moments in this sequence, such as Lady Quark recognizing Old Man Kent as a man without a world, just as she and Pariah are. I have a feeling that now that he's been absolved of his guilt in the destruction of the multiverse, Lady Quark is going out of her way to be his friend in order to sublimate her rage. They seem to only appear together in this issue-- including the cover.

But I think I have to give the sob story award for the issue to Huntress. There have been a couple different Huntresses and I feel like it's necessary to give a little backstory for this to really understand the impact: In this era, Huntress was Helena Wayne. She is the adult daughter of Earth-2's Batman, Bruce Wayne, and reformed Selina Kyle, Catwoman. As such, Alfred is her surrogate grandfather and Dick Grayson her surrogate brother... also, technically her boss in the law firm she ends up joining. She adopts her superhero persona after her mother is blackmailed by a former associate into donning her Catwoman persona and subsequently caused her death. Not long after becoming Huntress, her father passed away as well.

He didn't destroy my entire world.
We're BFFs 4ever!

I know a lot of people, especially in my age demographic, she is better known as mafia princess turned anti-mafia vigilante, Helena Bertinelli. In fact, I even remember a conversation in which a lifelong DC fan was upset when New 52 continuity relapsed to Helena Wayne. Speaking for myself, I have always liked the concept of the Bat-Family. In fact, I have a hard time relating to Batman when operating independently of them. I suspect saying that might be blasphemy, but I always like Batman better when that "I work alone and live on a consistent diet of justice and angst" mentality is counterbalanced by his mentorship and pseudo-parental guidance. It humanizes him without diminishing his otherness. However, much like what I like about Damian Wayne actively trying to connect with his father in the present, there is something so fantastically tragic about Helena Wayne losing that connection and trying to live up to her father's memory.

Tying that back into the actual story at hand, Helena relates an account of like Old Man Kent, waking up and discovering she doesn't exist in this world when she goes to her apartment and finding someone else living there. Her story culminates in a painful moment when she describes going to where her father's grave ought to be and finding its absence. Then who is she joined by but fellow Bat-Family member and Crisis survivor Dick Grayson, who embraces her like only a protective older brother could.

The best Dick Grayson is big bro Dick.

Pardon me. Looking for some Kleenex... okay, back to the review.

Lyla takes the floor and goes into a lengthy speech about how histories have been altered and merged in the wake of the unified universe's rebirth. As such, certain characters whose existences critically overlap now find that their histories never happened. Only one Tom and Martha Wayne were gunned down in Crime Alley. Only one shuttle was sent from Krypton on the eve of its annihilation. I know in-universe, this is pretty major, but I have to admit that it really sounds like this issue is going to great pains to make sure you understand what's happening. I feel like a teacher is talking to me ridiculously slowly and clearly while pressing visual aids up to my face.

We have to take you out of the story before
someone realizes you're just a She-Ra clone.

Elsewhere, a bunch of occult heroes come to the aid of Amethyst. Yeah, like I said, instead of giving you a taste of what's going on in this issue, this cover just gives away surprises. Amethyst apparently is another multiverse refugee. My problem with her inclusion here is that her existence, like Superboy-Prime's, diminishes the narrative impact of the scenario Wolfman and Perez established. Initially, it was only the denizens of the five Earths who survived. With each extra-dimensional character that appears whose Earth wasn't included in Lyla's remaining Earths council, it just makes me think that the Anti-Monitor really doesn't take his shtick seriously. Then again, I'm growing more confident in my conclusion that he's a sub-par main antagonist.

They help her escape from a crowd of superstitious villagers... in Las Vegas? You know what? I'm not overthinking it. This interlude is shoehorned in and I'm fairly convinced they included her under editorial edict. Moving on before I waste another brain cell.

Not understanding what is going on or where she is, Amethyst attempts to return to her reality of Gemworld (it's a truly, truly, truly outrageous place), but something both bars the portal she creates and blinds her in the process. Dr. Fate steadies her, but on looking her in the eye, he recognizes something about her and realizes that she cannot stay on Earth and opens a portal to return her to her reality. Goddammit, DC! Didn't we just spend over half an issue going into agonizing detail about how there is only one reality now? You couldn't wait a full issue?

In the background of this subplot, however, are ominous pink clouds and the Anti-Monitor's shadow warriors. They go completely unnoticed.

Old Man Kent really does get the shortest stick here.
He lost his history and he's too old to start anew.

In the skies above, Clark chases down a despondent Old Man Kent. He refuses to give up on the elder Superman in his time of need, just as Old Man Kent didn't give up on him. Old Man Kent is at his lowest ebb. With the world rewritten and everything he once knew gone, he finds himself in a world where the one person who means the most to him has never existed. And here he is a man with no place in the world. Both of these are merely the result of the whim of fate. He has no sense of place or purpose in this world. I would argue that this moment is tragically short, but it's just so beautifully sad a moment that to tamper with it would spoil it.

Back at Titans Tower, we get a few more instances in which this continuity clean up results in more problems than solutions. Donna Troy relates her experience on far away on Themiscyra Paradise Island. Wonder Woman and her sorta sister meet Wonder Woman and her daughter. And that's about it. I didn't get my wacky hijinks. I just got awkwardness. Meanwhile, Power Girl doesn't understand why she is remembered but Old Man Kent isn't. My no-prize answer is that her defining attribute isn't being Kryptonian. It's her boob window. Maybe that protected her.

He has traumatic past life memories about
his clashing green and purple wardrobe.

Batman, Robin (the young Jason Todd one, for clarity's sake), and Alexander Luthor report that they checked out Lex Luthor, who they found in prison. Not only does this Luthor not remember the events of Crisis, but he actually shows an incredible amount of disdain for costumed super-persons as a rule. Knowing that we're trading in the mad scientist in green and purple power armor for the sly, Machiavellian power broker we're all much more familiar with, we can see the transition evident here without it being really concrete about the direction the character would be taking, which would ultimately be codified in John Byrne's The Man of Steel mini series.

I found the inclusion of Alexander Luthor feels odd in this instance. Yes, I can understand why he would be there. He has previously demonstrated a curiosity about his father (in retrospect, I realize he was creeping on a private moment between Old Man Kent and Old Lady Lois because she was his mother on Earth-3), but last time they were face to face, we had insight into how Alexander views his father's doppelganger, and by extension, Alexander as a person, as opposed to Alexander as a walking macguffin. However, he is just present in this scene, which is unfortunate. It felt like he is utilized in this scene more to give him a presence in the issue than to further his character.

Finally, Changeling finally has the wherewithal to move the plot forward. As poignant as some  of these scenes of singular universe realization have been, they've overstayed their welcome. Gar points out the ominous pink clouds, which the narration does us a solid by illustrating just how widespread they've become. And by "widespread," I mean "global." Why do I think this is such a glorious boon? Well, not to put too fine a point on it, we get to see more of Gorilla City. I'm generally more of a Bronze Age/Modern Era reader, but I have to give credit to this most silly of Silver Age inventions. Sam Simeon appears in all of one panel, but I think he might be my new favorite. It's also nice to see that Solovar has been upgraded from "probably dead" to "seriously injured" due to DC's hard reset to continuity.

Pariah is the heroes' equivalent of a canary in a mine shaft.

Elsewhere, the Challengers of the Unknown continue to be characters I don't care about. At least the off-brand GI Joe characters we met during the "protect quest" portion of the early issues had the decency to include a haunted tank. These guys, I'm sorry. Wolfman and Perez have done a decent job with making us feel somewhat acquainted with a wide array of characters from DC's catalog, but the Challengers fall flat. Then again, with such interesting and bizarre characters peopling the DCU, a bunch of science guys who don't really have a visible story hook and seemingly exist to exposit scientifically are doomed to underwhelm. Anyway, whilst spelunking they find an entire underground cavern full of the evil anti-matter pink storm clouds.

Back at Titans Tower, Gar compares the storm to Ghostbusters, presumably the scene after Walter Peck unleashed the ghost containment tank. Lady Quark notices Pariah vanishing. She looks genuinely concerned, despite how frequently this happens. Again, further supporting my assertion that she is overcompensating for having spent so much time hating him. Pariah seems to be caught halfway through being teleported away and sounds especially pained by the experience. Meanwhile, Alexander Luthor's body is once again half antimatter. So yeah, his brief existence as a character has ended and he's once again a full-fledged macguffin.

Oh, like you weren't thinking it...

It is finally becoming quite apparent to everyone that they aren't out of the Crisis woods just yet. On a rooftop above, Clark and Old Man Kent look up and see an astral outline of the Anti-Monitor staring down at the last Earth, making a proclamation of, "Welcome to your doom!"

I'm going to have to call shenanigans on this final splash page. Oh, it's perfectly serviceable, don't get me wrong. My problem with it is that it's an example of what I also complained about with the cover: laziness in the art. It's less noticeable than the cover mind you. Whereas the cover looks like a few random unused panels tossed together in a failed attempt to create a singular definitive thesis, this is an example of a recycled moment. I probably wouldn't even notice or care if it was in some random issue of New Teen Titans, and honestly that would be an excellent way to illustrate Trigon. However, in the same story, one that even to this day purports to be the biggest story DC has ever told, it shows either a lack of creativity or a fondness for shortcuts to repeat a final page reveal for the penultimate issue in the same cosmic style as that of the second issue. I could see an argument for symmetry, but I doubt it, especially considering the last couple issues haven't even bothered with final reveals.

No, really, guys. I'm totally going to destroy you all, this time.
I mean it. Why are you laughing?

I'm honestly not sure what my final opinion of this issue is. On the one hand, looking at it as an individual issue, it delivered some intensely powerful character moments, did a seismic amount of world building, and it made me care about certain characters who have been featured heavily since the beginning of this maxi series as well as others I wouldn't have otherwise even known about. It helped make what is essentially an editorially mandated revision to continuity into something that feels personal. That is no mean feat.

However, as the penultimate installment of a 12-issue event series, it feels out of place. I honestly love less action packed "palate cleanser" issues that allow the reader to breath and take in what has happened and how the plot has changed our characters. However, they work better in an ongoing series, where they can split up different story arcs without taking away from a finite number of issues needed to tell one overarching narrative. Crisis already had one with issue #8 and I generally welcomed a break from the action. As much as I liked all the attention to character and this opportunity to take in what has happened, with only two issues left to go, I felt like this issue should have been building towards the final climactic confrontation instead of what effectively amounts to a superhero get-together and peer counselling session. The final threat of the Anti-Monitor kind of sneaks up on them, reminiscent of a toddler who is genuinely surprised every time a jack-in-the-box pops out. I like it on its own, but within the context of what it is, where it is positioned in the overall story, and what function it ought to be performing, it falls short of what the event needs.

Join me next week as I finally get to see the final Crisis. No not that Final Crisis. Ugh. Why did they list it that way on the "next time" tag? Next time, we're putting this series to rest with Crisis on Infinite Earths #12.