|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
Secret Origins
Son of Vulcan
Overseer of the World
As a newsman for nearly thirty years, I'd seen it all: I'd been injured in Korea as a soldier, then covered the "Vietnam Conflict" (at least, that's what they called it then) as a reporter in the mid-'60s, and also in the tail-end of the war through to the mid-'70s.
Between those times, I happened to cover a smaller, civil war going on on the Mediterranean island-state of Cyprete. The year was 1965. And was I ever unprepared for what happened when I got there!
Visiting some ancient ruins, specifically the great Hall of Jupiter, I mused on the foolishness of mankind in engaging in so many wars. This island alone had seen hundreds of wars since prehistory. My passions got the best of me then. In the spirit of the moment, I shouted up to the heavens and asked the gods, for whom these ancient temples had been built, exactly why they permitted man to wage pointless wars? Why, if they had the power to stop them, did they allow crime to continue? Why, why, WHY?
A strange thing happened then: A thunderstorm suddenly broke out, and a great deluge of rain came down. Then lightning and booming thunder struck down. I wondered if Jupiter and the Gods of Olympus were warning me for my words. Soon, I would wonder no longer.
In a thunderclap, I was struck down. Nearly unconscious, I was stirred by a huge, sandaled foot, prodding me awake. And there were voices speaking about me, wondering how I had come to be there, wherever I was...
I got up and looked around, only to see something my mortal eyes could scarcely believe to be true: I was surrounded by human-like beings of seeming power and majesty, in a great hall in the clouds. Directly before me was a great figure of a being, seated upon a throne. It was Jupiter himself!
They demanded my name. I told them; and in the boldness I had gained during all my years of covering the wars on this globe, I again asked them why they allowed man to commit countless crimes and wage endless wars. Jupiter became angry and commanded me to hold my tongue. But I had nothing to lose, and I stood my ground, even as the king of the gods prepared to strike me down.
Just then fair Venus, goddess of love, dashed before me and stayed the mighty sword of Jupiter. Vulcan, god of fire and the forge, also rose to my defense. In me he had seen a kinship. Our infirmities were similar: his limp from being hurled from the heavens as a child, and mine from the war in Korea. The god of war, Mars, demanded justice for my affrontery. And so a trial was held.
Again I held my ground and stated my case, then went on to tell them of my own war on crime and evil as a reporter. Jupiter stopped all further arguments by his decision. It is man alone, he said, who is to blame for man's evil, greed, and violence. However, he conceded, they owed man some help. If one of the gods sponsored me, he said, would I be willing to do my part in the war against evil? I vowed to do so with all my heart. My ally Vulcan then stepped up and volunteered to be my sponsor, thereby gaining his own redemption, of sorts.
The god of the blacksmiths forged magical armor and weapons for me, then. But I was scarcely able to even walk in the heavy armor, let alone fill it out. Venus granted me then the gift of strength and vitality, and dubbed me Son of Vulcan!
I then returned to Earth to battle the forces of evil in Cyprete and over all the world. But almost as soon as I had begun, it seemed to me then, my career as the "Son of Vulcan" was over. Had I displeased the gods? I wondered. They had warned me that the boons granted me could be taken back at any time. And I was a mere mortal once more.
Over the next two decades, peace and justice became the sole passion of my life. My reporting days helped bring about the end of the Vietnam war, exposed the corruption of the Nixon administration, and brought down more than a few crime families.
But as time wore on, I felt powerless once again to really make a difference in the world. After all, what had I really accomplished?
My reverie was then interrupted. In 1982, after almost twenty years, the gods once again summoned me before their presence and granted me the power to be the "Son of Vulcan" once more. But the slight fear I detected in their eyes gave me pause. What could a god fear? Could they see something building on the horizon?
The answer came with a great "Crisis on Infinite Earths" some three years later, which sent our humble world into chaos. And I fought well. Many died, but many were saved.
The Crisis was averted finally, but after countless Earths had been destroyed. Only five parallel Earths remained. I wondered what was to become of me after this conflict of conflicts?
I was summoned once more to the throne-room of Mount Olympus. There, the ancient Roman gods, in great relief over the end of the Crisis, now appointed me to be the "overseer" of the world.
Ever since the "golden age" of the 1940s, many heroes had sprung up, among them all three Blue Beetles, Captain Atom, Nightshade, the Question, Thunderbolt, E-Man, and many others. I was now to be this world's Monitor.
And as the Monitor of Earth-Four, I am now quickly familiarizing myself with its heroes and history. For I see a storm brewing on the horizon, and I'll need to know the strengths and weaknesses of this world's heroes in order to mount a proper defense.
I now begin my duties as the Monitor.