"You recognize some of us, don't you, boy?" A gravely voice hissed at me from behind, making me whirl around to see a face weathered by age, one eye covered by a black eyepatch, the other's faded green color still managing to give me a sharp, stern gaze. The force of his voice and his look in my direction was enough to keep me silent, though I couldn't help but answer him with a quiet nod.

He exhaled softly in amusement, a metal hand gripping harder on a cane keeping him upright. "Does it surprise you, seeing our kind paying respects? Your grandfather was a good man, much to our consternation back in the days of our prime." He stroked his chin in thought, quietly reminiscing of moments long past. "I lost count of how many bank robberies and spying missions he managed to foil. For someone with barely any powers, he made good use of what he had..."

He walked a little past me, gazing first at the closed coffin and where it would be lowered into the ground, then at some of the others gathered around, some as old as my grandfather, others much younger. "Blue Baron, Darksider, Colonel Copperhead...there's some faces I haven't seen in ages. Then you have the new blood...Hyperdeath and Killjoy...hrm." It felt like he had more to say about some of the ones he recognized outside of their more villainous and recognizable appearance, but thought otherwise after another glance towards the future grave site.

"Your grandfather inspired a lot, you know. Some of us reformed or retired, but other times he inspired us to do our damnedest to try and win, even if we never could outplay the clever bastard." He said, a raspy chuckle forming before he cut it off with a cough and a clearing of his throat. "I'd say some of these young ones were inspired by watching us go at it, even if their egos wouldn't admit it."

"That's just the kind of person he was, wasn't it? Whether hero or villain, watching him in action made you wanna give it your all. So it makes sense most of us would pay our respects to someone like that, eh?"

I guess it made sense, but still, to think that most of the people here were villains of some kind made it a rather awkward feeling.

"Well, those 'heroes' will be busy with public appearances and secret identities and whatnot; those get in the way of being somewhere important. Besides, a hero has a plethora of villains dedicated to them, but for a villain, you often only have the one main rival in your life, two if you're lucky."

He turned away from me and started to traipse away with a slow, tired gait. "Whatever you think of us and our histories, know this, son...your grandfather was a shining beacon of good faith. And if he had this many enemies brought from his good deeds...just think about how many heroes he's inspired."

"Carl," Linda whispered. "That man over there. Doesn't he look like Doom Master?"

What made you think that? Carl thought. The robot laser eye, or the trio of badly disguised android henchmen? What he said out loud was, "I'm sure it's just your imagination, love."

". . . Carl, I'm pretty sure that's Cybermentor," Linda went on. "Isn't he the one who held the United Nations hostage last month? Someone should do something. . ."

"Well, given that his arch-nemesis Hyperion is sitting across the aisle from him and isn't doing anything, I don't think anything you or I could do is going to matter, honey," Carl hissed between his teeth.

"Carl! I'm serious!" Linda hissed. "This entire funeral is filled with SUPERVILLAINS!"

"Linda. . ." Carl sighed and glanced around the chapel. The services weren't about to start for another fifteen minutes, so he took Linda by the arm and gently led her into the narthex. "All right, Linda. You're right. The entire supervillain community is here for my Grand-Dad's funeral. I don't know why any more than you do, but it probably has SOMETHING to do with the fact that Skywatch called Mom last Thursday and asked to give the eulogy."

"Skywatch!?" Linda gasped. "Reverend McEnroe is Skywatch?!"

"Keep it down!" Carl hissed. He looked around the church lobby, but the mourners seemed undisturbed by the conversation. "Look, I don't understand this either. I mean, I know Grand-Dad was a small-time hero when he was younger, but nobody really gives a crap about Captain Liberty these days. Let's just get through the service, and maybe someone will explain this to us once this is all over."

Linda didn't seem to like that, but she quietly acquiesced, and the couple returned to their seat. As the organist finished their prelude, and the mourners took their seats, a tall, iron-haired woman in black clerical robes took to the pulpit.

"Please be seated," Reverend Isabel McEnroe said.

A hundred-odd friends, family, and the most powerful superheroes and villains in the world took their seats.

"We are gathered here today to lay to rest the man whom many of you knew as Dr. Grant Mason. Many others knew of him as Captain Liberty: a superhero active during the post World-War II years for about a decade and a half. Captain Liberty had a modest career as a superhero and crimefighter, before hanging up his cape. . . most people believed, for good." The reverend took a deep breath. "To most of you, Dr. Mason's superhero career ended there. But. . . among those of us who wear the cape and mask, Dr. Mason's hero career began on the day that he put away his cape and donned doctor's whites for the first time.

"Because, despite what the public believed, Captain Liberty did not lose his cosmic powers during the battle against The Menace From the Stars. Dr. Grant Mason retained his cosmic strength, his laser vision, and his super-speed and flight. However, it was his wish that this fact be kept secret. . . not only from the public, but from his closest friends and family as well. Only those of us who were there, at the final confrontation against the Menace, would be allowed to know his secret."

The reverend took a deep, shuddering breath, eyes haunted. "The Menace, we learned on that day, was not an alien being bent on conquest. The Menace was the final form of Dr. Grant Mason, come from the future to conquer the past. During that final confrontation with the combined forces of the Guardians of Earth and the Legions of Evil, we learned that Captain Liberty was destined to lead the Guardians in one final battle against the Legions of Evil. . . a battle during which all life on Earth would die. This moment. . . the Singularity Point. . . was a fixed moment in time. An inevitability. Captain Liberty had come from the future to change the past over and over and over again, sustained by cosmic energy into a lifetime of tens of thousands of years, until transformed into the being that emerged over Star City on that fateful day fifty years ago.

"Grant saw that there was no future during which Captain Liberty would not become the Menace from The Stars. . . and so, he created a future where there would be no Captain Liberty. Only Grant Mason, a quiet country doctor with a quiet little practice in a quiet town in the midwestern United States.

"I don't know that there is anyone else in this room who would have had the strength to do what he did. To live an entire life knowing that you possessed the power to change the world, and never doing so. To know every single moment of your life that you possessed the power of a living god. . . could grasp the power of the cosmos itself. . . but to do so would inevitably lead to the end of all life on Earth.

"Without drawing upon the cosmic power within him, Grant's life ebbed away as normal human lives do. Though long-lived, his body began to fade and die. Cancer. What must it have been like to face the end of your life, knowing that all you had to do was reach out and grasp the power at your fingertips, and death would pass you by? I do not believe I would have had the strength. I know all here feel the same.

The reverend reached into her coat and pulled out a silver and blue domino mask. She donned it in silence. "As the Reverend McEnroe, I am here today to lay to rest my old friend, Dr. Grant Mason. As the superheroine Skywatch, I am here to celebrate the success of my old friend Captain Liberty's final mission. The Bible says that, through Christ, we triumph over death in new life. . . I know that in his death, Grant triumphed over the greater death that lay in our future. I pray that the Lord takes him safe into their loving arms, and I know that the gates of heaven stand ready to welcome him safe."

There was a quiet murmuring and the sound of sliding cloth. Carl turned to see half the people in the chapel reaching into their jackets to pull out masks and don them in unison. The Garden Master. Pirate Pete. Annihilatrix. Iceglider. Killer Bee. The greatest heroes and villains of the Golden Age now sat in silent unison to witness the passing of the greatest of their own.

Skywatch nodded quietly. "Thank you," she said. "Now, I'd like to pass the mic to someone who needs no introduction. Oliver?"

The hulking five-hundred pound form of The Terrifying Brute rose from the church pew with the creaking of old wood and older joints. With titanium cane in hand, the giant lizard-beast hobbled his way up the steps to the pulpit, assisted by a younger lizard-girl in a black suit. Pausing for a moment to pay respects at the open casket, the monster stomped slowly to the microphone, adjusted it, gave a rheumy cough, and began to speak.

"The first time Brute meet Captain," he growled, "Captain punched Brute in face. It was okay. Brute was eating doggy at the time. But dat was how Brute meet Captain, and Captain help turn Brute from Bad Guy to Good Guy. . .

You know a bunch of them. Megathor, the arch villain of the eighties. He is now a gigantic old man, he still has his signature wide plump mustache. But his long black hairs are gone. Next to him is Crimelia, his old right-hand and lover. She is surprisingly beautiful for a sixty year old woman. Tall and graceful, her bright fiery hazel eyes are now filled with sadness and grief.

Twins, Sin and Vice a row behind them. Both in identical black suits. Hard to believe those two calm and mild mannered old men used to be the most evil villains of their time. There are more but you don't remember their names. In fact there are more villains, former enemies of your grandpa at the funeral than there are colleagues or government officials.

At the reception, Megathor and Crimelia approach you. Both are wearing formal dresses. Meghthor is a neck and shoulder taller than anyone you ever saw. His broad shoulders fell in sorrow: -hello young man. Are you Jeff's grandson?

-Yes. I'm Mike.

-So you are Mike. He spoke highly of you. I reckon you know us?

-Few people don't Mr Megathor.

-Call me Bob please. Those days are long gone. And this is Carmen. You might know her as Crimelia.

-Please bobby. You know I hate that name. Your grandpa was the best man I have ever met. And I met the whole bunch of them. Fought many. Many were stronger, smarter, none had his character.

-Can I ask what are you doing here? No disrespect but weren't you guys enemies?

Bob: Well we were enemies. In the battlefield. We fought for different causes. It has been so long I don't remember what for. We didn't do bad things for the fun of it. We did it because we thought it was the right thing to do. You see, right and wrong are not always so clear. So pure. They are, more complex than that. And Jeff knew that.

Carmen: He never judged us. He was always ready to hear our point of view. He was what's our society today is missing. A good enemy. And without good enemies, there can't be true friendship either.

Bob: We had a son. He was six when he died of cancer. God...It still hurts. Jeff was there for us. He wept with us, comforted us, hell he even managed the funeral service himself because I was drunk all the times .What a man he was.
Speaking of drinks. Anyone want a refill?

And he proceeds to find another drink.

Carmen: He is already drunk. Didn't saw him this messed up in a long time. Jeff was like an older brother to him. Once Bob went to Soviet Russia to rescue Jeff from the Soviet prison. Another time Jeff almost got prosecuted for letting Bob walk away against orders to kill him.

When Bob came back, Twins are with him. Bob is holding two glasses full of drink in his massive hands.

-Sin: Our condolences son.

-Vice: Your grandpa was the reason our life turned around.

-Sin: We beat him more times than he did, you knew? We won most battles against him. But lost all the wars.

Vice: He used to say "The true win is not to win the fight, but to win the heart of the enemy."

-Sin: And he did. We came back to college thanks to him. He paid our tuition fee. We still kept making trouble. But he never gave up. Wish our own father was like him.

Vice takes another sip from his whisky. Everyone remained silent for some times. You wonder how your funeral would be? Will your enemies mourn your departure? Your grandpa...you felt a sudden rush of sadness. A drop of tear drops from your eyes.

Carmen rised her glass: To Jeff. A great friend and even a better enemy. May his soul be in peace.

-"To Jeff." Everyone replied. You drink your whisky. It makes your inside burn. You feel sad. Not for your grandpa. He lived a great life. But for the world, a world which needs such a man more than ever.

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