DC ONE MILLION: YOUNG HEROES IN LOVE & CHRONOS

YOUNG HEROES IN LOVE #1,000,000 - November 1998

Happiness Is a Warm Nanite

Credits: Dan Raspler (writer), Dev Madan (penciler), Keith Champagne (inker), Bill Oakley (letterer), Noelle Giddings (colorist)

It’s the 853^rd century, and Grant Morrison has a line-wide DC event to orchestrate. I’m not sure why DC thought it was a good idea to set every DCU title in the far future for one month, but clearly someone upstairs was committed to the concept. I don’t remember any vocal fan reaction to the event, aside from the predictable complaints that the only decent chapters were the ones Grant Morrison wrote.

Young Heroes in Love’s final issue just happened to fall on the One Million month, leaving us with an odd farewell to the series. The premise has a group of kids, who all coincidentally resemble the Young Heroes, traveling with their parents to the moon for a front-row seat to the reincarnation of the original Justice League. The event is scheduled to happen after their bedtimes, so they develop the brilliant scheme of dressing like superheroes and sneaking in. An old man overhears their conversation and suggests they don the disguises of a team he remembers from the past. The old man is Frostbite, and he apparently has a remarkable memory, because the kids use their costume fabricator to duplicate the Young Heroes’ costumes perfectly.

The story’s filled with Peanuts references, and most are genuinely humorous, so it’s not a surprise when Raspler mimics the ending of the Halloween special and has Li’l Hard Drive accidentally mislead the team and force them to miss the Justice League’s arrival. (“It’s over and you ruined it!”) However, a last minute swerve actually provides the kids with a happy ending, as their journey through the Tesseract leads them directly underneath the Justice League’s conference table just as the heroes unite for a meeting.

Obviously, Raspler’s in an awkward position for a goodbye issue, but he does manage to work in another original member of the Young Heroes into the story, as a fifty-seven-year-old Off-Ramp uses a time warp to catch this special moment in history. He reunites with Frostbite, but in order to avoid any time paradoxes, they have to keep their conversation “superficial.” They don’t discuss the old team, leaving their fates up in the air. Raspler says goodbye on the final page, musing that the series is perhaps ahead of its time (yeah, probably), and thanking the readers for their support. As odd as this as a final issue, it’s actually one of the more enjoyable installments of the book. Dev Madan’s cartooning is fantastic, and depending on your taste for Peanuts, it’s often very funny.

CHRONOS #1,000,000 - November 1998

Time on My Hands

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), J. H. Williams III (penciler), Mick Gray (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

You would think that a book with a time traveling gimmick would’ve easily been able to incorporate the One Million event into its ongoing storylines, but scheduling problems forced this issue of Chronos to be a standalone story. The issue follows Chronos as he travels to the 853^rd century and steals the future Flash’s time gauntlets. Flash follows him back to twelfth century Hong Kong and is shocked when Chronos allows the demonic menace Scourge to take the gauntlets. Yet, the gauntlets are rigged to trap Scourge in a time loop, which Chronos ensures us will prevent Scourge from ever traveling back in time and killing Superman’s ancestors on Krypton.

Only a few months later in the final issue of Chronos, we’ll see him yet again ensuring Superman’s existence in Kansas. I know that the proposed new direction for the title had Chronos traveling through time and enabling certain events to transpire, but I’m not sure why exactly Superman is used so prominently in the few examples we ever got of Chronos following that mission. Was it supposed to be Superman-specific?

Finally, in Chronopolis, a conversation between Chronos and the future Hourman reveals another motive for stealing the gauntlets from Flash. Chronos knows the gauntlets are destined to malfunction and kill Flash after he’s trapped with the Justice Legion in 1998. Okay, that’s at least one non-Kryptonian save. And it’s another hint that Chronos isn’t destined to be a thief, even if his actions are always going to be pitting him against superheroes. Not a bad issue, especially considering how badly a line-wide event can disrupt an ongoing series, but I wish Moore had incorporated more time traveling scenes to take advantage of Williams’ art.

CHRONOS #11 - February 1999

Mad Genius

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Steve Leialoha (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), James Sinclair (colors)

The final issue of Chronos opens in 1947’s Gotham City, inside an obscure psychiatric facility known as Arkham Asylum. (Never mind that Arkham Asylum was first introduced in the 1970s and originally located somewhere in New England…Arkham had long been retconned into Gotham’s backstory by this point.) Chronos is posing as a doctor and sneaking out with a patient who claims to be a time traveler. In a nice use of misdirection, we’re led to believe that the patient is perhaps another version of Chronos. Instead, we discover that the time traveler is none other than Chronos’ mysterious birth father, Tsui.

Chronos takes him back to Chronopolis, where they’re promptly attacked by a mysterious armed figure. Using his ability to freeze others in time, Chronos removes the attacker’s mask and discovers that the culprit is Alex Damaskinos; not the version he knew, but the one that’s come to exist following Chronos’ erasure of himself from time. She’s been duped into believing that Chronos has been murdering members of the Goodfellow Troupe, but before we’re given any more info on that mystery, John Francis Moore has a few more issues worth of continuity he’d like to dump in two pages. Witness now, the origin of Chronos’ father, Chronopolis, the Gate of Eternity, the Keystones, and the Goodfellow Troupe:

Within a few pages, Lucas Goodfellow has made his way to Chronopolis and frozen the rest of the cast with a device stolen from the thirtieth century. He reveals that he needed the rest of the troupe’s Keystones in order to control the Gate of Eternity, which he plans on using to…rule the world, I guess. How exactly he plans on doing this by releasing energy from the Gate and creating a giant vortex that consumes all of reality, I don’t know.

Chronos breaks everyone free and Alex volunteers to hold the Keystone that will channel all of the energy Goodfellow’s released. Realizing how dangerous this is, Chronos reluctantly plays the hero and takes the Keystone from her. While absorbing the chronal energy from inside the vortex, and floating over a lovely montage of the history of the DC Universe penciled by Paul Guinan, Chronos is for the first time “filled with a sense of genuine purpose.”

The Gate, the Keystones, and apparently Chronopolis are destroyed, but the universe is saved. Tsui and Alex are trapped in the prehistoric past, while Chronos maintains his ability to travel through time. In the final scene, Chronos lands once again in rural Kansas. Catching a ride with Jonathan and Martha Kent, he makes sure they drive pass a certain field on a certain night.

You might remember that final scene from Paul Guinan’s letter announcing Chronos’ cancellation. Originally an idea he pitched as a way to make Chronos more “relevant” for the DCU, it sees print as a coda to the slightly offbeat series that could never find much of an audience. It’s a shame that so many titles are practically forced to invent connections to Batman or Superman in order to be noticed, but apparently that’s the only way a DCU title can hope to gain attention from the direct market audience (even if this isn’t true, it’s become accepted wisdom at DC; although a link to Green Lantern might be more valuable than Superman today).

So, in the final issue, Moore wraps up most of the loose ends, with the most glaring exception being the mysterious link between David Clinton and the modern Chronos’ adopted parents. Even though the mystery seemed rather important in the early issues, it’s been forgotten by this point. We also haven’t seen Chronos’ birth mother, we only know that she’s Mexican from a comment made by Paul Guinan in that goodbye letter, nor do we know how exactly Gravesend contacted Tsui in the first place if he was trapped outside of time. I’m sure Moore had a story behind all of these mysteries (and I’m assuming there isn’t a Chronos Secret Files or some other book that gave the answers), but there are only so many pages left. We are getting resolutions to the bulk of the dangling plot threads, so it’s not as if we’re dealing with the final episode of LOST here. We discover where Chronopolis came from, why Chronos was born there, and the origin of all of those time travelling devices. Not bad. Due to the abundance of plot, though, much of the character work is skimped over. Chronos’ reunion with his father is rushed through, and his previous romance with Alex is simply ignored.

The resolution to the murders of the Goodfellow Troupe, a very minor subplot that starred Alex a few issues earlier, is also brought into the main story as we discover that Lucas Goodfellow is the true villain of the outfit. This is an idea that probably would’ve had more of an impact if Lucas Goodfellow had put in more than a handful of cameos during this run. Revealing that a character I barely remember from several issues prior is secretly evil doesn’t create an excessive amount of drama. Plus, he has no discernible plan and no personality outside of mustache twirling, so he’s really a drag on the story. I understand why he’s there, though, and the sequences that force Chronos into the hero role are executed quite well.

The new status quo for Chronos -- he’s going through the past of the DCU and making sure everything works out the way it should -- had a lot of promise, so perhaps that could’ve been enough to keep the book going for a little while. (Didn’t a similar idea show up in Booster Gold not long ago?) Regardless, Moore wanted to end the book, and sales were low enough for DC to agree. I can’t say that Chronos ever quite lived up to its potential, but it did often show glimpses of something special. It’s certainly good enough to be rescued from the back issue bins.

CHRONOS #10 - January 1999

Revisionary

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (layouts), Steve Leialoha (finishes), Ken Bruzenak (letters), James Sinclair (colors)

Getting back to issue #8’s cliffhanger, Chronos and Fiorella are introduced to the mysterious Gravesend during their first trip to Chronopolis. He recharges Chronos’ time-traveling power, allowing him to go back and prevent his mother’s death. Yes, issue #9 of this series takes place in-between pages 3 and 4 of this issue. Chronos spends a few pages musing on his own non-existence in the timestream before going back to Chronopolis. Gravesend reveals that he’s an agent of an otherdimensional entity that tasked him with the possession of the Tempesthold, “a vessel which contains the ethereal soul of their race.” While traveling to this reality, the Tempesthold was lost centuries ago in the Earth’s past. Gravesend is unable to travel outside of Chronopolis, so he asks Chronos to repay his favor and locate the Tempesthold.

Chronos promptly travels to Constantinople, 1552 AD, and snatches the Tempesthold from Emperor Constantine. He’s briefly (and by “brief” I mean two pages) confronted by Azrael, the Avenging Angel of St. Dumas, before jumping out of time. One problem -- touching the Tempesthold gives him a vision of the future. Like most otherdimensional entities, Gravesend’s benefactors are a nefarious race of world-eaters who are plotting the destruction of this universe. After receiving some moral guidance in modern-day Morocco from an undercover Daily Planet reporter, Chronos is inspired to plant the Tempesthold inside Superman’s future Fortress of Solitude. The one that’s located within the sun.

When Gravesend learns of Chronos’ betrayal, he attacks, but his atoms are scattered across the universe when Chronos throws him into the quantum field stream. (Before he dies, he throws in that he knew Chronos’ biological father, who helped to build Chronopolis. Ordinarily, this would be a big deal. This issue addresses the idea and moves on in a mere three panels.) This leaves three pages of story, but I think we all know by now that John Francis Moore isn’t going to waste time with filler.

Chronos learns that he’s accidentally responsible for exiling Fiorella to Chronopolis, since her past was changed along with his. He resolves to fix this, but not before he takes care of a few other things. This leads to a montage of Chronos entering past issues of the book and committing heroic acts during events that technically no longer involve him. The Linear Man from the first issue is saved, Vyronis is apprehended, the Justice League Killer is stopped before his first murder, etc. Unfortunately, while traveling to 1872 Smallville, he learns that no one’s heard of fellow time-traveler Alex. The Goodfellow Troupe has been replaced by the W. S. Walcot Traveling Entertainers, a mystery that leads into the next, and final, issue.


So, clearly this is rushed. Moore’s plots are incredibly dense on a good day, so when he’s stuck writing the final chapters of a prematurely cancelled book, even one he’s decided to pull the plug on, it’s no surprise that a lot of things are going to happen on every single page. When Moore isn’t squeezing as much plot as possible into every panel, he explores the emotional ramifications of Chronos erasing himself quite well, and manages to make Fiorella more sympathetic than usual as she realizes that she’s doomed to live outside of time as another version of herself (one that never met Chronos) lives out her life. Chronos’ move into heroism is also smartly played, allowing him to finally use his powers selflessly and correct his mistakes from the previous issues. The emotional arc that gets him to this place could’ve used more room, but that’s true of every element of this comic. The advertised battle on the cover only lasts two pages! It’s a shame, too, because Paul Guinan’s ability to draw real world landscapes like Constantinople is being brushed aside in order to make room for all of the revelations that have to be made before the series wraps up. Moore is admirably trying to pay everything off, but many of these ideas are rushed through so fast they can’t have any real impact.

CHRONOS #9 - December 1998

Being & Nothingness

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Steve Leialoha & Dennis Rodier (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), Noelle Giddings (colors)

And now we’ve reached Chronos #9, the issue selected by DC for a promotional push to keep the series alive. New cover artist Tony Harris! New editor Mike Carlin! A guest appearance by Destiny of the Endless! A standalone story perfect for new readers! Extra copies shipped to retailers (presumably at DC’s expense)! Of course, if you’re an existing reader of this book, you’ll notice that the previous issue’s cliffhanger has been ignored, and the series lead has somehow learned important information about his past off-panel. That’s annoying, but the story does resolve a few mysteries from the previous issues and sets up a new status quo, so it’s not as if the audience is being dumped in favor of an early ‘00s Bill Jemas style “reinvention.”

The story opens with a flashback to the death of Chronos’ mother, followed by a conversation between the adult Chronos and Destiny. Abruptly, the scene shifts to an Oakland hospital in what appears to be a post-apocalyptic future.

However, as Chronos awakens, he discovers that this is the year 1998. He’s been in a coma for thirteen years…the same number of years we’ve previously learned his mother has been dead. Chronos investigates and learns that Ronald Reagan is still president, and since we already know John Francis Moore’s opinion on Reagan, that means America is now a bombed-out hellhole of a police state engaged with a futile war against Russia. Reagan’s also lying to the public about having Alzheimer’s, which is a classy touch on Moore’s part.

Within a few pages, Chronos has met this timeline’s version of himself, a government scientist working on time travel studies (his boss is Amanda Waller, for any of “The Wall” completists out there). This divergent-earth Walker Gabriel has been plagued with headaches his entire life, and now he knows why -- two versions of the same person can’t exist in the same timeline without causing problems.

Chronos explains how exactly this timeline was created…which is literally an entire issue’s worth of story crammed into three panels:

Using alternate Walker’s time travel equipment, Chronos recharges his powers and travels thirteen years into the past…again. This time, he does more than temporarily K.O. Wilson Sebastian, the drunk driver who killed his mother. Chronos drugs him, leaves him in a hotel room, and plants documents to ensure that Sebastian will never become Secretary of State and turn the Cold War into a hot one. Unfortunately, a two-page sequence details how Chronos accidentally caused his mother’s death in this new, new reality.

That’s another issue’s worth of material burned through in just a few panels. John Francis Moore is an efficiency machine, I tell you.

Chronos has another meeting with Destiny and decides that if his mother is to live, she cannot be connected to him in any way. He also throws in that he knows that he was born outside of time in Chronopolis, which apparently is the origin of his powers. How he knows this we don’t know, since this revelation hasn’t happened in any of the previous issues.

Following his new plan, Chronos goes back to Chronopolis on the day of his birth and kidnaps his infant self. His foster parents go on to adopt another child, a girl, and fate spares Chronos’ mother. Somehow, Wilson Sebastian isn’t involved with the drunk driving accident either, but his political career is ended, as the fake evidence planted by Chronos leads to his arrest as a traitor. (How this works I don’t know, since Chronos planted the evidence in the previous timeline. If he’s still planting evidence in this new, new, new reality, it would seem that he hasn’t learned a lesson about the immutableness of time.)

So, Chronos has effectively erased himself from time, which somehow is supposed to lead to a bold new direction for the title. And while I don’t think this was as new reader friendly as DC might’ve liked, it is one of the strongest issues of the book’s run. I think every kid lives with at least some fear that their parents might die in something like a car accident one day, so building on a childhood anxiety and making it a cornerstone of Chronos’ backstory is a smart choice on Moore’s part. The idea of a time traveler who’s constantly foiled by their efforts to change the past has certainly been done before, but Moore has a nice angle for it. Also, connecting the drunk driving accident that killed his mother to the start of World War III might sound absurd on its face, but Moore’s actually come up with a plausible justification. I don’t think the story needed a feeble-minded real life president in order to work, especially when it’s more plausible that the Constitution wouldn’t have been amended and a new president would’ve been elected in 1988 anyway, but we never can escape Watchmen, can we?

CHRONOS #8 - October 1998

Ghost Train

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Denis Rodier (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

2113: Chronos and Fiorella arrive in Washington DC, hoping that Baron Winters (apparently another ex-lover of Fiorella’s) will help them reach Chronopolis. I have no idea who Baron Winters is, but based on his brief appearance this issue, I was able to correctly guess that he’s an existing DCU character. I’m not sure if his mansion, Gravesend Manor, debuted in any of his previous appearances, but Moore’s clearly tying it into a larger story he’s telling. Winters refuses to help Fiorella, but decides that it’s in his best interests for Chronos to owe him a favor. Joined by Winters’ aide Genji Hitomaro, an ex-sumo wrestler and recovering drug addict, Chronos and Fiorella are sent through a door in the mansion that takes them to…

2452: Metropolis. The city’s in ruins, Superman’s been gone for over a hundred years, and somehow an underground train called the “Trans-Avant Garde” is going to take Chronos and Fiorella to Chronopolis. Genji Hitomaro is given a heroic death as he clears the tracks of the alien metrognomes (the monsters on the cover), allowing the train to depart. The Trans-Avant Garde goes through numerous timelines, bringing us the inevitable cameo appearance by the Legion of Super-Heroes, before reaching Chronopolis. (Why doesn’t Chronos just use the train to go back to the ‘70s, his original destination in the previous issue? Uh…apparently it’s too fast to control. And why couldn’t one of the rooms in Winters’ mansion take Chronos to the ‘70s? Umm…) Chronos thinks he’s safe, but the mysterious Gravesend is secretly spying on him. It’s a dramatic cliffhanger that won’t be resolved until three issues later.

I’m assuming this issue was designed to give DC a more straightforward, action-oriented story. Just look at that cover…isn’t this guy a take-charge, square-jawed hero who’s clearly saving the day? Never mind that he barely confronts those aliens in the issue, and it’s actually a new, extremely minor character who handles most of the action. To be honest, I’m not even sure why Genji Hitomaro is even in this issue. Usually, when a new character is introduced and given a noble sacrifice plot to act out, the story goes out of its way to make him a sympathetic figure. Moore certainly works in some backstory for Genji, an odd one at that, but he doesn’t seem too interested in fleshing out his personality. Even with the new, more linear focus, there’s not a lot of room in the issue to really do anything with Genji, making me wonder why he’s in the story in the first place. If the goal was to make this a more commercial title, wouldn’t it have made more sense for the title’s hero to fight the aliens…y’know, like he's doing on the cover?

CHRONOS #7 - September 1998

The Killing Rain

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Denis Rodier & Steve Leialoha (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

2113: Chronos and Alex attempt to travel back to the 1970s to investigate David Clinton’s connection to Chronos’ parents, but a vague “temporal interference” separates the duo. Chronos lands in 2113’s Seattle, a dingy shadow of the city that’s owned by a telecom corporation (yeah, that’s spot-on soothsaying). Seattle lives in fear of the Justice League Killer, a shapechanger who only kills when taking the form of the Justice League. As luck would have it, Chronos stumbles across him shortly after arriving in the city. His time-traveling powers and temporal displacement suit aren’t working, so he’s forced to run away from the killer. Clearly, Chronos is still far away from attaining “hero” status.

Chronos is sent to a homeless shelter by two transit officers who are too lazy to fill out any paperwork on a mystery man with no DNA on file. The homeless are given “infotainment vidsets” at the shelter, which Chronos describes as “A little video candy to keep the downtrodden pacified. The Romans did it with bread and circuses.” While watching the type of newscast you normally find in a Paul Verhoeven movie, Chronos discovers that Fiorella Della Ravenna, the socialite he met in the Renaissance, is alive and well in this era.

After repairing his costume, Chronos tracks down Fiorella at an art gallery opening, but only learns that she’s in “a long and painful melodrama” and is also stuck in this era. In a yet another wild coincidence, a police officer at the art exhibit they’re attending just happens to be the Justice League Killer in disguise. Morphing into Green Arrow, he nearly kills Chronos again, but this time he’s saved by Fiorella. The police arrest the killer and we discover that his true name is Hayden Glass, with a DNA copyright belonging to Cadmus. He claims that his father was a superhero who abandoned his mother while she was still pregnant. By posing as the Justice League, he claims that he’s exposing heroes for what they are.

Now, I can’t totally dismiss this issue as time killer, as it formally introduces Hayden Glass, the shape-changing villain from the first issue, and leads Chronos and Fiorella a little closer towards their inevitable romance. But…it’s hard not to view this issue as a diversion that largely exists as an excuse to get the Justice League on the cover. And Paul Guinan certainly has a unique take on the Justice League -- I can’t imagine him trying to draw the characters in Howard Porter’s style -- but even that’s a thin excuse for the shapeshifter plot.

Since I’m not overly familiar with DC continuity, I don’t know if the name “Hayden Glass” is supposed to be significant, and nothing in the issue indicates why exactly he’s chosen the twentieth century version of the Justice League to imitate. I do know that Cadmus has a connection to cloning, so perhaps the idea is that the killer has been cloned repeatedly over the past century, but some confirmation in the actual story would be nice. As for the setting of the issue, Moore’s take on the future isn’t particularly novel, either. Essentially, it’s 1984 with an evil corporation instead of an evil government. I suppose the setting alone isn’t enough to hurt the story, but the sheer coincidence of Chronos running into the killer twice is inexcusable, and as the title’s lead, he’s remarkably ineffective throughout the entire issue.

CHRONOS #6 - August 1998

The Funeral Party

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Dennis Rodier & Steve Leialoha (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

1998: Chronos and Alex attend David Clinton’s funeral, allowing Walker to give Alex (and any new readers) a history lesson on the original Chronos. The flashback also reveals that Walker Gabriel first met David Clinton while studying his theories on time travel. They became acquaintances, but not truly friends, which is why Walker can’t believe Clinton left him his valuable technical papers and 1934 World’s Fair clock. Inside that clock is a more valuable treasure, the key to Clinton’s safe house. Inside, Chronos and Alex discover paintings stolen from famous painters the day they were finished, rare antiques, and Clinton’s original time travel equipment. Walker’s not thrilled by this, since these items are virtually impossible to fence.

The most shocking discovery in the house is an old photo of David Clinton with Walker’s parents.

Suddenly, one of David Clinton’s old friends, Abel Tarrant (the Tattooed Man), enters. He demands Chronos use the time travel equipment to send him twenty years in the past. Chronos obliges, but unfortunately for Tarrant, Clinton’s old time machine explodes shortly after sending him back to the past. Alex essentially nags Walker into doing something, so he travels back in time to retrieve Tarrant.

1978 (give or take a few years): Chronos encounters Tarrant harassing his twenty-year-old self, bullying him out of getting his first tattoo. Tarrant reveals that this tattoo parlor served as his first crime connection, so he wants to erase the mistake and recreate his past. Tarrant’s tattoos melt into blobs as he doubles over in pain, leading Chronos to take him back to the ‘90s.

A few amusing moments during this scene: Chronos comments that tattoos themselves don’t lead to crime, since everyone he knows under thirty has one. This was written in 1998, before the tattoo fad infected even teenage Disney Channel stars and middle-aged single dads. John Francis Moore also implicitly endorses the Carter Administration by having Chronos tell Tarrant that he’s saving him from the Reagan years. I’m sure this is just a gratuitous partisan shot, but Ronald Reagan will become an important historical touchstone in future issues.

1998: Chronos returns with Tarrant, whose tattoos have returned to normal, signifying the futility of changing the past (and also leaving him free to be dismembered in a future issue of Green Lantern or Suicide Squad). Walker declares that he won’t be looking back at his own life with regret at age forty. Holding the photo of his parents, he’s determined to learn the truth about his past. Apparently, this reflects an edict of DC, who felt the character of Walker Gabriel was too whiney and passive. To Moore’s credit, this issue doesn’t feel like an abrupt change of direction, and I would rather see the mysteries resolved sooner rather than later, so this is one editorial decree I don’t mind. The second half of the series noticeably picks up the pace in the coming issues, and I honestly think the later issues are more entertaining than the early ones, even if the pacing is occasionally bizarre.

CHRONOS #5 - July 1998

Legacies

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Doug Hazlewood & Dexter Vines (inks), Willie Schubert (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

1998: Chronos returns to his apartment with Alex, who’s amused by his outdated video game systems. Alex receives a message from the mysterious Goodfellow on her Keystone and travels across time with Chronos to the Temple of Eternity. This temple allows Goodfellow’s troupe to travel anywhere though time…which seems kind of redundant given the time-traveling Keystone devices they carry. I realize that the Keystones don’t allow them to travel directly from one era to another -- they have to keep hopping around time until they reach their destination -- but since the time-hopping doesn’t seem to bother them so much, I’m not sure why the temple is supposed to be so important. Why exactly is Moore attaching so much continuity to the troupe’s time travels?

After pushing in a piece of the Gate of Eternity (which resembles a giant Aztec calendar), they travel to…

1865: In nineteenth century France, Chronos meets the leader of the troupe, Lucas Goodfellow. He explains that he was plucked out of time at the moment of death and paired with eleven other “time-lost wayfarers who had been shanghaied by a mysterious power.” He formed the Lucas Goodfellow Traveling Theatrical Troupe to ensure that certain historical events occur. He asks Chronos to join, but he refuses. Later on, a monologue will reveal that he’s scared at the prospect of becoming a hero, and he doesn’t want time travel to ravage his body the way it’s destroyed David Clinton’s.

Alex learns that her grandmother Cassandra has died. Goodfellow hands her a silver dragon necklace that’s been left for her. Chronos touches it and is briefly transported to eleventh century China. (This is the scene featuring the ancient Chinese city of Kaifeng miscolored “in dark purple and chartreuse” that penciler Paul Guinan complained about when announcing the book’s cancellation. And he’s right; the colors on this page are muddy and kind of ugly.) Chronos catches a glimpse of Cassandra, who wears a hood that conceals her face. I have a feeling this is significant later on…

1998: Anyway, Chronos returns home and picks up a photo of his deceased mother. What would you expect anyone with time travelling powers to do? He uses his ability to travel back to his childhood, of course.

1985: Berkley, California. This is one of my favorite sequences in the series. Moore’s already explored some of the traditional science fiction time-travel plots, and now he’s using the premise to examine an idea that’s relatable for everyone. Who wouldn’t want to revisit their childhood home? I wasn’t as old as Walker Gabriel in 1985, but I had a similar collection of Super Powers action figures in my bedroom (although the DC Universe seems to have produced toys that didn’t exist in our world, such as a Golden Age Flash figure). Walker sees his mother and his younger self playing outside. He wants to talk to her, but what could he even say?

Upstairs, Chronos plans on leaving a note for his mother, hoping to warn her of a fatal car accident eight months in the future. He overhears his parents arguing about his birth parents, a subject he didn’t think they knew anything about. He investigates his father’s office and finds a book with yet another Aztec calendar on the outside. He opens it to discover a map of Chronopolis. Touching the drawing, he’s taken to Chronopolis during the days of its construction, and is quickly sent back home by a discourteous cyborg. Back in 1998, Chronos answers the phone to discover his predecessor, David Clinton, is dead.

CHRONOS #4 - June 1998

Reprise

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Steve Leialoha (inks), Ken Bruzenak (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

Outside of Time: Chronos emerges in Chronopolis for the first time, following Vyronis’ activation of the Time Masher. He’s greeted by Alex, now aged seventeen years, who’s working with Rip Hunter to undo the damage created by Vyronis. Chronos learns that he’s some form of temporal anomaly, which makes him the world’s only hope against Vyronis. Alex hands Chronos his displacement suit, which becomes his standard superhero outfit for the series, shortly before the all-powerful future version of Vyronis attacks. With Alex and her allies dead, Chronos teleports back to…

1464: In Florence, Chronos relives his disastrous choice from the previous issue, only now he turns against Vyronis. Vyronis tries to kill him, and in the process, Chronos is bathed in chronal energy after the tachyon generator explodes. Chronos makes a hasty wish to be anywhere but Florence, and suddenly appears…

Whenever Kamandi Is Supposed To Take Place: Chronos and Vyronis find themselves attacked by “Lion Men on ATVs.” Despite what the cover would lead you to believe, though, this scene is only three pages long. Chronos does break Vyronis’ Keystone, which will presumably be important later on, but really this scene exists as a dramatic demonstration of Chronos’ new powers, and as a continuity nod to DC fans. Chronos tests his powers by willing himself to return to fifteenth century Florence. He makes it back, is reunited with Alex, and is ready to face new adventures. But…

1998: David Clinton reminds us again that time isn’t something to be toyed with. He fades out of existence, for perhaps the last time.

So, four issues into the series, Walker Gabriel’s origin and status quo are (mostly) spelled out. He can travel through time, reaching specific eras and locations if he concentrates on objects representing that time and place. He isn’t a straight hero or villain, nor does he have a clear motive at this point. Why exactly he’s a temporal anomaly is the major mystery right now, and Moore’s resolution to the mystery will be his most creative use of time travel during the series’ run.

Paul Guinan’s art is just as delicate and remarkable this issue as it has been since the first issue, although I can see another example of the “camera” being placed too far back. When Chronos punches Vyronis on page nineteen, it should be a big deal. Vyronis has been screwing with Walker since the series began, and this issue opened with a super-powerful Vyronis from the future killing Alex in Chronopolis. Chronos hasn’t had a real physical confrontation with the villain yet, and since he isn’t a particularly physical character (as Walker says, he hasn’t hit anyone since he was eight), Walker punching Vyronis should feel like a big deal. Instead, the panel is a long, skinny one that works in a lot of background we’ve already seen, and shows Traven snatching a gun away from Fiorella. There’s no impact. Maybe Moore asked for all of that in the panel, but I have no idea why he would want the climatic “hero slugs villain” moment crammed in with any other information. At any rate, this is a strong closing chapter for the opening arc, and if there were ever a Chronos trade, this would make the perfect stopping point for the first volume.

CHRONOS #3 - May 1998

Renaissance Man

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Steve Leialoha (inks), Willie Schubert (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

1873: Chronos is caught by the Linear Man, whose name we learn is Traven. The time-traveling actress, whose name is revealed as Alexandra Damaskinos, walks in on them and realizes that Chronos must be the reason why her tribe has been sent to the nineteenth century. During the confrontation, Chronos activates the strange metal disk, which we learn is called a Keystone, and escapes with Alex.

1998: The original Chronos is meeting with a lawyer to discuss his will. He’s represented by the ex-wife of his former foe, the Atom -- Jean Loring. This scene is mainly here to remind us that David Clinton is still fading in and out of existence, but just imagine if the creators of this book really did have access to the future! We could’ve been warned about Identity Crisis years in advance.

1464: Chronos and Alex have landed in Renaissance-era Florence. Some continuity is established (Alex belongs to a group of time-travelers led by a “Goodfellow,” only its members should be able to use the Keystones, they disguise themselves as actors because performers are supposed to be eccentric, the villain Vyronis is a former member, and the tribe can’t travel to anywhen they feel like -- points in time are connected to one another), and another DC character makes a gratuitous cameo. Jason Blood, whose demon form only appears in shadow, is hanging around Vyronis and his lover Fiorella for no obvious reason. He recognizes Chronos, who has no idea who Blood is, which means Moore probably planned on teaming Chronos and the Demon together in a later story (set in an earlier time period, of course).

Outside of Time: At the Vanishing Point, Traven reports to his commander and is sent to another era with a chronal energy surge -- Florence, 1464.

1464: Chronos learns why Vyronis hired him to steal the tachyon generator, and it naturally involves a giant machine that can destroy the entire timeline. Vyronis is convinced that he can use his “Time Masher” to disrupt the flow of time and reshape it however he pleases. Chronos just wants to go home. When Traven arrives to finish his arrest, Chronos manages to steal his gun from him. Chronos strikes a deal with Vyronis; he’ll keep Traven at bay long enough for Vyronis to activate the Time Masher, provided Vyronis sends him back home to 1998. (Who wouldn’t long to relive the days of endless Viagra jokes and the Lewinsky scandal?) Cliffhanger: Vyronis activates the machine and the world disappears in a flash of light. Chronos wonders if he’s made the wrong decision.

Obviously, Moore’s crammed a lot into this issue. This is the most continuity we’ve been exposed to so far, and he’s given several issues worth of information out in just a handful of pages. There’s so much going on Chronos often feels like a bit player in the drama, which is an unusual route to take in an ongoing series. I think the storyline is interesting enough to justify all of the digressions, but I can see why a casual reader would begin to feel lost at this point, and this is only the third issue. When Chronos is allowed to show some personality, we’re reminded that he isn’t a traditional superhero protagonist. Walker isn’t particularly iniquitous, but he’s willing to go along with a villain’s plan if it means getting what he wants. The unpredictably of Chronos’ actions, and where exactly they’ll lead him, is one of my favorite aspects of the book.

And, speaking of time travel, here’s the back cover ad for the original Grand Theft Auto game. Who could’ve guessed where this gimmicky premise would lead?

CHRONOS #2 - April 1996

Down On the Farm

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Steve Leialoha (inks), Willie Schubert (letters), Mike Danza (colors)

1873: Three weeks have passed since the previous issue, and we learn Chronos has befriended Matthew Kent and his family. He tries to help with the chores, but finds his experience as a “brilliant techno-industrialist thief” hasn’t provided him with the skills needed for nineteenth century farming in Smallville. Moore gets a lot of material out of the culture shock, as Chronos discusses marriage with the Kent’s eager teenage son, is forced to attend church by Mrs. Kent, and is targeted as a “half-breed” by a drunken local. Moore could go the cheap route and depict the Kents as dimwitted, intolerant yokels, but they’re portrayed as decent, caring individuals. They know nothing about Chronos, suspect he might be a crook, but still accept him into their home and rarely even ask questions about his past. The best scene in the issue has Chronos robbing their hidden cash reserves while the family’s attending a play, but quickly regretting the decision and returning the money.

Meanwhile, in Metropolis, Vyronis has targeted Mr. Dunbar, a wealthy industrialist. One of Dunbar’s descendants is fated to interfere with Vyronis’ plans, so of course he kills Dunbar.

1998: David Clinton, the original Chronos, is accused by the police of the new Chronos’ S.T.A.R. Labs theft. Once again, he begins to fade out of existence.

1873: Back in Smallville, Chronos checks out the play, unaware that another Linear Man has arrived in 1873 to arrest him for last issue’s murder. Chronos is smitten with one of the actors, and follows her to her trailer later that night. He’s shocked to discover that she has a Walkman. (The girl can listen to up to eighty minutes of music at a time!) When she’s called away by another actor, the mysterious Lucas, Chronos sneaks in and looks through her things. Along with numerous keepsakes from the late ‘90s, she also has a disk that’s similar to the device used by Vyronis to travel through time in the previous issue. The discovery of other time travelers, and how exactly they connect to Vyronis, is one of my favorite aspects of this series. Chronos’ crush, Alexandra, will go on to have a larger role in the series, but the abrupt ending of the series shortchanges their relationship.

1461: Finally, Vyronis arrives in Florence to meet with the thirty-year-old Chronos’ future ex-lover, Fiorella. He boasts about the tachyon generator he snatched from Chronos last issue, which will somehow enable them to control all time. I seem to recall this device playing a large role in an upcoming storyline, but the science fiction elements of the book never really grabbed me. I like time travel, I like seeing characters interacting with figures from the past, I even enjoy the occasional time paradox, but trying to establish “real” physics for time travel just loses me. Their plot also seems like too much of a villain cliché, which is an awkward fit for a book that doesn’t follow any other traditional formulas. Regardless, this issue remains a lot of fun, and Guinan’s various landscapes and architecture are amazing.

CHRONOS #1 - March 1998

Time Out of Time

Credits: John Francis Moore (writer), Paul Guinan (penciler), Steve Leialoha (inker), Willie Schubert (letterer), Mike Danza (colorist)

“We may not avoid everything you’ve come to associate with a time travel book -- I may even let a paradox or two slip in despite all my protesting -- but hopefully, as STARMAN did for superheroics, as RESURRECTION MAN did for death, we can bring a unique perspective to them.” -Editor Archie Goodwin, from this issue's text piece.

Chronos opens with Chronos, Walker Gabriel, who’s just realized it’s his thirtieth birthday, in 1960 Hamburg. He’s already befriended the Beatles and is lecturing the audience to keep quiet during their set when a very large man named Mordecai appears. Mordecai takes Walker to a strange city, where he’s reunited with a mystery woman named Fiorella. Over the course of just a few pages, John Francis Moore unloads a decent amount of exposition. We learn that Fiorella and Walker were once lovers, Fiorella has manipulated men throughout time, the strange city is in the process of being rebuilt, various versions of Walker co-exist in this city, Mordecai is a robot, and an old enemy of Walker’s named Hayden Glass has escaped the twenty-third century and is looking to kill his younger self in 1998. Got that?

The scene shifts to the “today” of 1998. At a firm named Dystart, a man who looks suspiciously like Walker Gabriel is testing out the “Nomo 2000” with its inventor, Stephanie Wong. A first-person caption informs us that he’s “working” on his twenty-third birthday. Suddenly, a slightly younger Chronos appears. This is the twenty-three year old Walker, the true star of the series. (Although the thirty-year-old Walker doesn’t completely disappear. Artist Paul Guinan differentiates the seven year age gap by giving the younger Walker longer hair and sideburns.)

I’ve read this scene numerous times and still can’t quite make out if the guy testing the device is also supposed to be Walker, or if Guinan made the unfortunate choice of giving a minor background character a design identical to the series’ star (and the colorist gave him the same skin tone). The “working on my birthday” bit is apparently a reference to Walker, who’s a thief at this stage, stealing the Nomo 2000’s CPU; so I suppose opening with the lookalike, who’s “working” in a more traditional sense, was a red herring? Or is Walker stealing the device from his own firm? I don’t know. I don’t want to paint this book with the “too confusing” brush too soon, because it really isn’t, but I’ve always been hazy on this scene.

Anyway, Walker meets with his fence, Konstantin Vyronis, and hands over the CPU. He’s given another job, a theft at S.T.A.R. Labs. And speaking of “star,” it’s time for the Starman influence to creep in. Walker stops off at the home of his quasi-mentor, the original Chronos, David Clinton. Clinton’s prematurely aging and has a bad habit of fading out of existence for a few seconds at a time. He warns Walker about the dangers surrounding time travel, but the new Chronos apparently loves the money too much.

Returning to the earlier info dump, escaped criminal Hayden Glass appears to kill the younger Walker. He’s rescued by the clean-cut thirty year old Chronos, who dispatches Glass by dropping him off in the Jurassic era. (Moore also throws in that Glass is a shapechanger, which is important later on.)

Meanwhile, the 23-year-old Walker attempts the S.T.A.R. Labs heist. He’s caught by a very ‘90s-looking officer of the Linear Authority. Walker’s time traveling without permission, apparently (or at least slowing time down at this stage). I'm assuming these guys are being brought in to assure readers that this series is faithful to the DC Universe’s established time traveling rules. Of course, I don’t know what those rules might be, and a vague reference to “the Crisis” implies that there are none now. That’s kind of DC continuity in a nutshell.

Regardless, Walker learns that he’s been set up by his fence Vyronis, who kills the officer and tries to pin the murder on Walker. Vyronis takes the tachyon generator Walker swiped from S.T.A.R. Labs and uses a mysterious disk to open a portal through time. Walker grabs him, they struggle through the “energy nexus,” and Walker emerges in 1800s Kansas. The town of Smallville, specifically. Can you guess the last name of the man who discovers him?

And that takes us to page twenty-two. This isn’t going to sound like a compliment but I mean it as one -- John Francis Moore is perhaps the densest writer in comics. Marvel and DC publish entire trades today that don’t pack in this much story. That’s not hyperbole; I could easily see a modern comic wasting an entire issue on the first two scenes of this story (which Moore capably handles in just seven pages). The sheer amount of story could’ve easily created a cramped, cluttered mess, but Paul Guinan’s European-style art is always clear and attractive. I can see why John Francis Moore would’ve preferred tighter close-ups of the characters, but the unique way Guinan sets the “camera” so far away from the characters gives him a lot of space to show off his detailed backgrounds, and it gives the letterer room to place the numerous word balloons above and in-between the characters. If the layouts were drawn in a traditional manner, all of the characters would have word balloons pasted all over their foreheads and chins. Guinan’s style might seem a little odd at first, but I think it fits the unorthodox tone of the series quite well. This isn’t a traditional superhero book, or the now-traditional Vertigo revamp of a superhero book. Chronos is hard to describe, which I’m sure made it impossible for DC to market, but it debuts strong and continues to improve as the issues continue.

The Next Casualty -- CHRONOS

Based on the strength of John Francis Moore’s X-Force run, I went on a back issue spree a few months ago and picked up a full run of the short-lived Chronos series, which was written by Moore and penciled by Paul Guinan in the late ‘90s. I remembered this book from one of the many “Save _______ from Cancellation!” crusades I saw during my early days on the internet, and while I know nothing of the established Chronos of the DCU, I felt confident enough in the material to pick it up. And, no surprises, it’s quite an enjoyable book. The protagonist has a real personality, the premise is treated in an intelligent manner, and there’s no way to guess where the stories are going.

Not long after I finished the run, Comic Book Legends Revealed ran a feature revealing that the title wasn’t technically cancelled by DC in 1998. Writer John Francis Moore, citing numerous reasons, pulled the plug. Paul Guinan provided a surprisingly frank account of the behind-the-scenes issues plaguing the series at the time, which can still be found online (http://www.lby3.com/1998/09/17/times-up-for-chronos/). While this meansChronos wasn’t strictly cancelled for low sales (even though sales were apparently at cancellation level, DC still had faith in it), it’s still a short-lived ‘90s DC title, which means it fits my remit for this series. The revelation of the backstage problems just makes it even more interesting to review in hindsight. It’s not going to be an easy book to review, with the numerous time travel plots and multiple iterations of the main character, but I consider it a worthy challenge.