The click of footsteps echoed and reverberated through the halls in the Temple of Darkness. The walls that so greedily devoured light emphatically rejected sound. Nyx contemplated the words of her last visitor as she walked. She had no doubt that the witch boy had a large personal stake in the matter. Still, there was some truth to his words. He was not exaggerating about her accomplishments; she was the goddess of night, the daughter of the celestial titan, Chaos. Reaching out to the onyx walls, she traced the moldings and reliefs with her fingers, as if the textures might aid in divination. What was the nature of this new force? Would it be as easily swayed as Klarion had intimated? To whom would it be swayed? To Zeus? To Ares? Was it worth the risk of having such a dangerous adversary?

Nyx stopped in the middle of a large chamber. She had settled on her course of action. She reached out with her hands and began to trace out intricate patterns in more dimensions than the human mind could perceive. Tendrils of aether and mana materialized and flowed like mist, adding definition to her movements. As she progressed, the chamber seemed to fill with a sculpture of gossamer that grew around the goddess.

Smiling at her handiwork, Nyx knelt and began drawing up obsidian from the ground. The glassy stone flowed like water as it was shaped to Nyx's will. Gracefully it spiraled, dancing to the fertile imagination of a being older than time.

Carefully, she worked, pulling ever more obsidian from the ground. Stumps of hooves sprouted into graceful legs. A tapered barrel bridged the legs. The graceful curves of shoulders and thighs came next. With greater confidence, the rest of the body came. The process ended with the proud head, with eyes closed, upon the sturdy neck. The obsidian solidified with the body complete. This was now a statue of a mare, graceful and strong, a beauty worthy of a princess. No ordinary mare, it was a projection of Nyx's personality, power, and will. Powerful wings hinted at flights of fancy. The long, tapered horn was a focal point for the power of dreams.

“It needs something,” Nyx said softly as she walked around the statue. “Something special.”

Smiling softly, Nyx removed her cloak. A broad swath fluttered away into her free hand as she replaced the remainder on her shoulders. With a shake of her wrist, she separated the swath into two broad strips. Stone molded like putty as she pressed one to the back of the head and the other above the end of the spine. Stepping back, she studied the positioning. Satisfied, she gestured with both hands before holding them palm up. A ball of mana formed between her hands and then floated over the statue where it burst into a shower of sparkles. The cloth transformed into star-spangled mane and tail that flowed in the ethereal breeze, each part was a representation of the night sky. Their Persian blues were a perfect complement to the cornflower blue of the obsidian.

Walking in front of the statue, Nyx placed her hands under the statue's chin and gave the mare a mother's kiss before softly blowing into its nose. Where her breath touched, the mare transformed from stone to flesh and blood. When the transformation was complete, it gave a gasp. What was cold stone was now a living being, warm to the touch. The mare opened her eyes and stepped back slowly, spreading her wings for balance.

Despite her apparent age, the mare was very much a newborn. She swung her head about as she took in the sights around her, slashing with her horn. She looked at each hoof in turn, lifting and lowering as she marveled at the novelty. Her tail flicked of its own volition; she turned to see that, too was a part of her. Her slitted irises expanded like a cat's as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the realm.
“Easy now. Good morning, my daughter,” Nyx said, smiling.

“Daughter?” The mare looked around before settling her gaze on Nyx.

“Yes, you are my daughter, my princess of the night, my night mare,” Nyx said, stroking the mare’s mane.

The mare looked up blinking and bowed her head slightly toward Nyx. “What do you wish, mother?”

“I wish you to bring someone into line. I wish you to tame the sun.”

***

The flickering of rebellious fluorescent lights was a familiar part of the dreary ambiance in Gotham General. Water-stained ceiling tiles and cracked linoleum floors were but a few of the victims of deferred maintenance. The occasional patch of plaster showed where errant gurneys had scraped along the walls. Despite the staff's best efforts to keep things clean and maintained, they were clearly losing their battle against entropy. The pride of Gotham's public health system was more humble than any place of healing should be.

The triage center in the emergency room never rested. Doctors and nurses frantically evaluated patient after patient with no regard to creed or color. There was no shortage of critical cases. Police officers laid low by gang violence were grouped with civilians maimed by metacriminals. Even criminals hoist by their own petards, or those of others, received urgent care so long as there was hope of survival. The stream of dying patients never ended. This was Gotham, after all, where hope came to die.

Despite the chaos, there was one area in the emergency room that was always kept clear. A corona of energy excited the lamps in that section of hallway, bringing a sudden surge of cool light. Savvy nurses recognized this as the signature of a transport beam.

A moment later, Batman, Diana, and Zantanna appeared in the hall, along with Celestia and Dash. The group looked around, blinking a few times as their eyes adjusted from the brightness of the midday Mediterranean sun to the unnatural dimness of Gotham Central at night.

“Ok, now I feel claustrophobic,” Dash said with a huff as she discovered that the hallway was too narrow for her to spread her wings.

“You two had better take your small forms,” Diana said. “I’m not sure you could turn around in these halls otherwise.”

With a nod, Celestia closed her eyes and lit her horn, slowly shrinking down to her Tia form. Looking over, she saw Dash match her form, shaking herself out before striking a pose.

“Let’s do this!” the little pegasus said as she flared her wings and lifted a foreleg.

Raising an eyebrow, Batman looked down at the eager pegasus. “Do what exactly?”

Dash wilted and blinked a few times before she responded head proudly. "We protect Celestia and the others while she helps people. That’s why you and me are here, right? We can't do magic, so we're the muscle."

Zatanna laughed softly as she looked between the pony and Batman. “Well, she got you there, Bats.”

Coming around the corner, a nurse gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.

Batman strode toward the nurse. “Where are they?”

The nurse glanced Batman blinking. “Where are who? And who are these two little cuties?”

Rolling his eyes Batman turned to Zatanna. “Don’t say a word.” Looking back at the nurse, the Batman put on a stern face. “The victims from the Turkish Airways flight.”

“Oh, yes. YES!” Turning she started heading down the halls. “They're this way. We're hoping you brought a lot of Joker venom antidote.”

The ward set aside for the victims was pure bedlam. Each bed held a patient, sedated and restrained, who raved maniacally and incoherently. Each was in their own world, reacting loudly to things only they could perceive. A normal person would be hard-pressed to endure being around just one of the victims. The ward held a hundred. One hundred ranting maniacs were crammed in a room meant for fifty. Privacy screens had been ripped away to accommodate the extra patients, and the beds were so close together that there was barely enough room for an average-sized adult to squeeze between them. The only area with any real room was the aisle, which was wide enough for a standard gurney.

The room itself had the welcoming ambiance of a haunted house. Fluorescent fixtures hummed and flickered as if speaking for restless poltergeists. Plastic sheets taped to the ceiling thumped at a funeral cadence as slow, steady leaks dripped onto them. The occasional flare of lightning and rumble of thunder added to foreboding atmosphere.

“There’s so many of them,” Tia said, walking slowly beside Zatanna as she ruffled her wings.

Looking over her shoulder, the nurse shook her head. “The plane carried three hundred and sixty-seven on board -- we have one hundred in this ward and another ninety-three downstairs. There are one hundred and seventy four in quarantine who haven’t shown any symptoms yet. That includes passengers and crew.”

“Don’t worry,” Zatanna said softly. “It may take some time but between the two of us, I think we can get them all.”

Dash fidgeted uncomfortably as she stood amid the chaos. Diana knelt so that their eyes were at the same level. "Dash, why don't you keep an eye on the people in quarantine? Batman can stand guard here while I look after the victims downstairs."

Dash gave a quick salute. "You got it!"

Tia watched as the two went to their assignments. Looking up at Zatanna, then at Batman, she took a breath before taking her adult form.

Waving her wand, Zatanna smiled. “Thgis fo eht dnim.” The words flowed out as mists formed around Zatanna. Her eyes glowing for a moment as the vision enhancement took hold. “Ok, now I'm ready. I want to be sure I get this right.”

Celestia touched her horn to one of the stewardesses. The lights in the room brightened as Celestia’s horn glowed. In response, the woman calmed down while the hips of her skirt burned away. Each hip glowed brightly with a golden lightning bolt in field of three stars. The symbols faded away as she coughed up some reddish-green smoke and drifted away into a peaceful slumber.

“Ok I think I have this,” Zatanna said. She walked over to a passenger in the adjacent bed. “Eht kram fo s'eno ynitsed, delaever!” As she finished, the hips of the man's pants burned away. Each hip glowed brightly with the symbol of a horseshoe before he coughed up reddish-green smoke as well.

Wobbling a bit, Zatanna shook her head. “Wow, that takes a lot out of you. It's doable though. We can do this!”

Spreading her wings wide, Celestia squeezed between two beds, letting her horn glow. Two more passengers completed the ritual, coughing up smoke to signal success. Celestia turned to Zatanna and winked. “Two at once?”

“Show off,” Zatanna said and stuck her tongue out as she healed a third. “The marks seem random.”

“It's a sign of who a person really is, so it's not really random,” Celestia said. "It's just personalized."

“Kind of like yours shows your connection to the sun?”

“I guess; I didn't notice when I got it. I do love the feel of the sun on my back and wings, though. Best of all, I don't need that icky sunscreen anymore." Celestia wobbled as she shifted back to her smaller form. Dramatically, she lay on the floor with her legs splayed out. “This is exhausting. Can we break for a sundae?”

“A sun day?” Zatanna stopped and steadied herself against a bed.

Gruffly, Batman replied, "Hundreds are counting on you. You can't just wait for the weekend."

“I have a craving for a triple fudge sundae on a bed of chocolate caramel cake.” Looking over, Tia wagged her tail. “Have you got one of those in your bat belt? Maybe a piece of bat-nana bread?”

“There are still over ninety sick in this ward alone,” Batman said, scowling. “You don’t stop for a snack break in the middle of a mission.”

Zatanna looked at the Batman and shook her head. “Bats, this is exhausting. It's going to take us a few days to heal everyone. We are going to need to take breaks. She’s still a little girl, too, you know.”

“In situations like this, you need to power though your issues,” Batman said firmly.

Tia shook her head vigorously, “Nuh uh. Chiron and Pegasus both said that in cases like this, you need to work slow in stages. Trying to do too much too fast will lead to mistakes, and with magic, mistakes are bad.”

Zatanna nodded slowly. “She’s got you there.”

Narrowing his eyes, Batman turned and stalked away. Ever the detective, he recorded every detail he could about each victim, starting his examination with the victim furthest from the magic users.

“Come on, Tia; let's get you a snack. I can hear your stomach grumbling from here,” Zatanna said as she led the filly out.

“I always kinda wanted to be like Wonder Woman or Supergirl,” Celestia said, “but you're really cool, too.”

“Thanks, and trust me, after healing only three of the passengers, I feel tired, and, that’s without all the extra stuff you did,” Zatanna said as she walked into the cafeteria

Blinking, Tia hid behind Zatanna’s leg. “Why is everyone staring at me?”

“Because they haven’t seen anyone so cute?” Zatanna said, looking down. She then turned to address the server. “Ok, can I get something special? If you can put two of those chocolate fudge brownies into a bowl, cover it with chocolate ice-cream, then add some whipped cream and sprinkles, times two.”

***

The legend of the Morlocks was greatly exaggerated. The network of service tunnels that ran beneath the streets of Gotham were used to route utility lines, connecting the buildings downtown to their service providers. Normally, they were accessed only occasionally by a utility worker, and locked gates were placed at irregular intervals to discourage the tourists. However, as a shadowy pair proved, no deterrent is absolute.

In the subbasement of the hospital, the lock to the service tunnel door hissed as acid dissolved the mechanism. As the door was opened with little fanfare, a feminine voice laughed, "Door locks for Morlocks!" Unseen in the darkness, the second figure rolled his eyes.

Dim bulbs lighted the staircase leading to the basement. As the pair made their way up. the sound of a squeaky wheel filled the hall, echoing down the long, dim corridor. An orderly pushed a gurney covered with a sheet. The tinny sound of distorted music came from the cheap headphones he wore. As the intruders watched the worker, one nodded at him and said, "He'll do just fine." The intruder's permanent smile was not a reflection of his emotions; it was a warning to all who came near.

Giggling softly, the man stepped from the shadows, arms akimbo, with his hands in the pockets of his purple suit. He stopped the gurney with one foot and exclaimed, “Well, hello there! You’re the lucky winner!”

The orderly struggled with the gurney before looking up. His eyes went wide with terror as he pulled down his headphones. He stammered, "The . . . the . . . the . . ."

Leaning forward and putting his hands on the gurney, the man smiled wider. “I think the word you're looking for is 'Joker', but I can see how you might forget, especially with someone stealing my schtick.”

“Your . . . stick?” the orderly asked, trembling.

Laughing softly the Joker shook his head. "Schtick. You know, my calling card? Come now, hundreds coming down with bouts of laughing? Calls for cures for Joker gas? It seems just like my sort of party, and yet, I wasn’t even invited. Now tell me, is that fair?”

“N-no, sir . . . Mr. Joker, sir...” The orderly gulped.

Waving his hands wildly, the Joker spun on the spot. “So where is it, then? Where’s the party?”

“P-party?” The orderly looked around, eyes wide in fear as he trembled.

“Yes, you know, with all those happily smiling faces of the people brought here. Come on, man, I haven’t got all day. I have things to kill, people to do.” Stopping, the Joker tapped his chain with a finger. “Wait, no, that’s not right. Things to do, people to kill. Oh yes, it’s night, not day, so I haven’t got all night.”

The Joker whipped the sheet off the gurney, revealing the corpse underneath. He sniffed, "Meh, I've seen better." He shoved the corpse off the gurney and lay down on the conveyance.

The trembling orderly looked fearfully from the Joker to the corpse and back to the Joker again. The villain said, "Harley, why don't you take care of our loose end?"

"Sure thing, Mr. J."

The orderly whipped around. Somehow, Harley was now carrying a gigantic mallet. He turned back to the Joker, puzzled. The Joker shrugged. "I never figured that out, either."

The orderly dropped to the floor next to the corpse as Harley brought the mallet down on his head. "Why don't you and Stiffany enjoy a bit of quality time?"

Harley roughly took the orderly's lab coat and credentials. She stuffed her mask in a pocket and pulled back her hood. A few swipes of a borrowed handkerchief removed her makeup. Putting on the coat, she found it to be a loose fit. Still, it was good enough for a quick disguise.

The Joker covered himself with the sheet. Sticking one arm out he twirled his hand and said, “To the party, Jeeves!”

Harley replied, “Sure thing, Puddin'; just one question.”

Getting comfortable on the stretcher, the Joker asked, “What’s that?”

“Who’s Jeeves?” Harley asked, tilting her head.

Face-palming through the sheet, Joker moaned, “Oy... Just wheel me upstairs.”

Wheeling the gurney into the elevator, Harley tapped the button for their desired floor and then tilted her head. Giggling, she then proceeded to tap the buttons for all the floors above their destination before walking behind the gurney and starting to hum. “What ever happened to elevator music, Mr. J?”

At the destination floor, the elevator gave a melodic chime before the doors opened. Harley leaned out and looked both ways. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she pulled the gurney out and wheeled it to ward, parking it just outside the door.

***

“I’ve alerted the other magical members of the league,” Batman said. He shook his head. “They will not be able to help until they learn the spells, and even Doctor Fate is unsure whether he could master it in as short a time as you and Celestia.”

Lowering her wand, Zatanna leaned back against a bed. “Trust me, Bats, even I haven’t mastered it. I don’t even understand it fully, so it's hard for me to cast.”

“That’s because it was cast by Eris.” Jason Blood walked in, holding a book. “Sorry I took so long; I needed to be sure.”

“Eris?” Zatanna said with a gulp.

Narrowing his eyes, Batman looked at one of the victims. “Eris, Discordia, the lady of chaos, a Greek goddess.”

“This also isn’t her normal style,” Jason stated. “Usually, her acts are far more subtle, though often having far-ranging and destructive ends. When not invited to a party hosted by Zeus, she slipped a golden apple in to be awarded as a prize for the most beautiful there. This action not only led to infighting among the gods, it also spilled over with the Judgment of Paris, to ignite the Trojan War, leading to the adventures of the refugee Aeneas, leading to the even founding of Rome... To think western civilization as we know it happened because she got snubbed once upon a time."

Tia blinked and giggled. “Note to self, always invite Discordia to galas.”

Harley blinked looking down at the little pony and squeaked. Putting her hand over her mouth, she tried hard to look normal, but couldn’t look away from the little filly.

Looking up, Tia smiled. “Could you get me a juice box? Please?”

Glancing up, the Batman looked across at the orderly for a moment as she picked up a juice box from the tray, putting a straw in it. Walking back over, she knelt down, hugging Tia. “You're just adorable.”

Holding the juice box between her forelegs, at her pasterns, the little alicorn filly took the straw in her muzzle and started to sip. As she did, she looked up with a smile and tilted her head to the side.

“Harley! What are you doing here?” the Dark Knight said as he started walking forward.

“Giving this little cutie pie a drink; what’s it look like?” Harley Quinn stated without looking up. “Isn’t she just too cute?”

“Harley!” Batman scowled as he reached towards his belt.

“Hehehehe!” laughing almost joyfully, the Joker sat up, spinning around on his gurney and crossed his legs. “Oh, Harls, can’t you contain yourself for just a little while? Girls sometimes, right, Bats? I guess the jig is up.”

Pulling out a batarang, the Batman snapped it to full extension as he narrowed his eyes.

Putting both hands up, the Joker smiled. “Ok, ok, you got me. I was just here to see who was stealing my schtick. Turns out it's not even close to the fun I have. Someone really needs to teach this Discordia how to do it with pizazz.” The sound of a dozen whoopie cushions filled the hospital, echoing through the vents. The simulated flatulence lasted almost three seconds. Then, a soft hiss filled the air as green mist started leaking out the ventilation ducts. “Oh, Bats, seriously, you couldn’t hold it in?” the Joker said, giggling. “Harley, grab a hostage; I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

Blinking, Harley looked down at Tia and shrugged, “Sure thing, Mister J.”

Falling backwards off the gurney, the Joker laughed as a batarang flew overhead, embedding itself in the wall behind him. “Whoops, time to go. You might want to do something about that gas problem, Bats. Others might find it offensive.”

“It’s ok, you adorable little chipmunk cheeks; Mama Harley is going to take good care of you,” Harley said as she hugged Tia tight to her chest.

Panicked, Tia turned to look back to her friends. She relaxed slightly when Batman gave a subtle shake of the head.

Running for the door, Batman skidded to a stop as he donned his respirator. Green gas was seeping down from the ventilation ducts. Looking back, he saw Zatanna with a bubble around her and Jason Blood. Though Zatanna was giggling, tears streamed from her eyes as her wand wobbled in the air.

Narrowing his eyes, Batman looked towards the direction the Joker gone. The vigilante turned back to Zatanna. Pulling out an autoinjector, he stuck it into Zatanna’s arm and pulled the trigger.

Coughing a few times, Zatanna snapped her wand, sending a pulse of magic to neutralize the gas. “We need to contain this.”

“I have a supply of Joker venom antidote,” the Batman said as he looked in the direction the Joker had gone. “There could be hundreds who will need treatment immediately.”

“What about Tia?” Zatanna asked, almost in a panic.

“Harley won’t hurt her. I’ll track them down once everything is settled here,” the Batman said as he injected a doctor with the last vial from his utility belt.

“But how are you going to find her? She’s in small form; she’ll be hard for magic to track,” Zatanna said as she worked her wand, extending the neutralization spell.

Standing up, the Batman pulled out a hand tracker from his utility belt. “I don’t need magic; I tagged her wing with a digital tracker.”

“WHEN?” Zatanna said with a look of pure shock on her face.

“The first night when she changed. I am not taking any chances with something that powerful.”

Author's Notes:

thanks to rich-online for wash
and to kalash93 for rinse

of this chapter.