It all begins with a whisper, a rumour carried silently through the shadows of Opal City. Overhead, the night sky is obscured by a blanket of gray, allowing only the most resilient of moonbeams to descend upon the city. His heartbeat races like the engine of a runaway train, as the child dashes down the back streets. Water splashes up around his feet as his heavy steps crash down into the puddles of gathered rainwater.

His chest burns more and more with each rise and fall, and for the life of him, he can not remember how long he's been running. He risks a quick glance behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his pursuer, but all he sees is a slight movement of shadows, disappearing before it makes a recognizable shape. A sense of paranoia sweeps over his soul, and he wishes that he were anywhere but here.

It wasn't his fault. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, a simple twist of circumstance. The rain had come like an onslaught, rushing out of nowhere like a predator on the hunt. Thinking to save himself from the downpour, he had ducked beneath the cover of a veranda of a house in the Antiquities District, hoping that its dilapidated condition would provide adequate cover. But instead of casting him in safety, he had walked into something he had never been meant to see. And now, he is in possession of a secret that, evidently, certain parties were willing to kill for.

His foot catches on some upturned gravel, sending tendrils of pain shooting up his left leg like spreading fire. Falling forward, his eyes grow wider as the ground looms closer. And then it stops, just inches away from impact, and he stares down into the asphalt. "Oh God, please help me."

"While I do not presume to holiness, I can assure you that your prayer has not gone unheard." The man says, the moonlight glinting off his pale skin. Eyes black as coal regard the child before the man speaks again, "And as you can see, there are forces greater than yourself at work in the shadow, and I am one of them."

The child quivers, unsure what to think as he stares back at the gaunt man. His lower lip trembles, turned white with fear, and he stutters, "W-w-h-who are you?"

On some days, I am the bane of this city's past, a shadow that will not wane even under the highest of noons. At other times, I am the silent influence that keeps this city from sinking into the cesspool of modern society." The man remarks, his voice cold and even, with the slightest hints of a British accent hiding at the edges. "But at all times, I am the Shade. And today, I am your only hope."

He had always been told that the skies were the limit, that the stars would hold wonders beyond man's imagining. They had always been there, timeless and ancient long before man had begun to ponder them, and to Ted Knight, that was half the allure. It was this mystery that had fueled his first steps into the exploration of science, this flame that fired his curiosities. And as soon as he was able, he turned his studies to the stars, pushing the envelope of space aeronautics. At first, it had seemed like a fruitless pursuit, but no one could deny the importance of his experiments, if he were to succeed.

And then, he had made the first breakthrough, the first discovery that made it all come together. He had discovered a way to harness cosmic energy, to utilize it in means that were never even conceived. And for that, the name Ted Knight would remain on the lips of the scientific community.

But these discoveries were mild in comparison to the one true invention that would change his destiny and usher in a legacy. The Cosmic Rod. With that, he transformed his life from that of mundane scientist to that of a costumed man of mystery, Opal City's lone beacon of light. Truth, Justice, and the American Way all packed in red and green spandex.

In the years that have passed, Ted Knight has seen almost everything, traveled from one end of time to another and back, and now, he is finally settling back into his pursuit of science. No more must he worry about the rights and wrongs purveyed upon his city. Now, that responsibility has been passed down to his son, Jack, whether or not Jack truly wanted that mantle.

But all that mattered little, as Jack had settled into the role and made a fine example of the Starman legacy. With two days gone since his return to Opal*, Jack had still yet to visit with his father, claiming the need to set things right with Sadie and the search for her brother, Will Payton.

* (Jack has just returned from space, as relayed in the storyline Stars, My Destination - Michael)

So, to kill time, Ted has ventured into his observatory, his own personal sanctum, hoping that the view of the night sky will settle his nerves. Some things did not rest as easily as they did in the old days, and new anxieties were not as easily laid to rest. And having lost one son to the evils of the world, Ted is anxious to find his remaining son alive and well after his trip to the stars.

Peering into the eyepiece, his attention is snapped away by the scuffle of quick footsteps below him. He turns in his seat, scanning the ground level of the observatory with his eyes and ears and wondering if perhaps his mind is playing tricks on him. And then it comes again, a shadow twisting around a corner as its movement echoes throughout the complex. Drifting up from below, a cracked whisper splits the silence, "We have come for you, Ted Knight. We have come for you."

And then the shadows crash in around him, fingers clutching around his wrists and neck, immobilizing him and cutting off his air supply. He wants to scream, but can not, and for a moment, before the world succumbs to darkness, he stares upward into a stitched smile.

"I'm sorry that it had to be this way, Sadie. I really am." He says, trying to keep the edge of sincerity in his voice. However, being the consoling one has never been a strong suit for Jack Knight. He's long been used to the life of the loner, the misunderstood rebel. The outsider in a world of outsiders.

"I just don't understand." She responds, her words coming in-between tears and muffled sobs, her voice scratched and warbling from the crying. The mascara drips down her cheek, running from her eyes in a twist of obsidian as she speaks in whispers. "He was alive. You had found him. You said everything would be alright, that if he was out there, you'd bring him back. But he's gone again."

Jack raises his hand to her cheek, wiping the warm wetness from her soft skin. "It was his choice to make, Sadie. I couldn't have changed his mind if I wanted to. Your brother is a good man, and he felt that it was his place to stay put, to protect a people who looked to him as their reborn savior. And I can't even tell you if maybe he wasn't that savior. He seemed to think he was, or maybe he just wanted a sense of purpose. God knows, the little spandex legions down here didn't show him respect until he sacrificed himself."

"But Will wasn't meant to ever sacrifice himself. He was a good man, Jack. He wanted to be a hero, wanted to make this world a better place. And look where it got him! Nobody ever respected him. They thought he was some pushover wannabe that would never make it. Now, he's twice dead and no one grieving except the sister he left behind. What kind of penance is that?"

"I'm sorry, Sadie."

"Don't give me 'I'm sorry', Jack. I've been coddled all my life. I don't need one more wannabe hero telling me that they feel my pain." She says, her voice rising in a crescendo as she stares straight at him. The red flushes into her cheeks and her eyes narrow into slits. Angrily, she advances upon him, forcing him to step backwards until he is in the door way. She slams her fist into his shoulder, pounding down against his chest. "Don't you ever tell me, 'I'm sorry'"

Jack steps back, his heart falling as he listens to her words. He doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to lend voice to the question that lies in his heart right now. But there's a nagging doubt within him that won't allow him to go on from this moment without knowing. "What are you saying, Sadie?"

"I think you need to go, Jack." She responds, her chin quivering slightly as she speaks. They are words that she never thought she'd say, but they are the only words that she feels are right at this moment. "I don't want to see you until you know what sacrifice is, until you can understand just how much it means to be a hero. A hero like the man you let die."

The door slams closed in front of him, and his jaw just hangs open. He had expected her to be angry, to be devastated by the news he had to bring. But he never thought that she would take it out on him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had thought that she would be happy to see him, happy to have him back and safe in her arms. But no. Not today. Today, he has lost everything that he had gone into space to hold onto.

Even as morning approaches in Opal, the darkness remains, lingers for as long as possible against the daylight that cracks the shadows. There is a calm to the world of thinning shadow, a sense of peace between the time when the night hawks are winding down and the early risers have still yet to his snooze on their alarm clocks. It is the time of morning that leaves even the criminal element of Opal City unsuspecting. And Matthew O'Dare would have it no other way.

He's never enjoyed a public presence, preferring instead to keep his activities away from the limelight. For years, it had allowed him to work both sides of the law, continuing the family tradition of justice while lining his own pocket along the way and tainting that very tradition. Eventually, he had come to see the error of his ways and began to forge a new path for himself, a path built upon the embers of another man's past, the man named Brian Savage.

And redemption is what brings him here today, a way to atone for his sins by utilizing his former contacts to bright justice to the dark shadows of Opal's streets.

Striking a match against the cold brick, he brings the flame to bear with the end of his cigarette, enjoying that first rush of nicotine as it floods his system. The flame goes out, the faint amber glow washing back to ebony in the space of a second. Taking another drag, he counts backward from three, launching a kick at the lock of the door on the opposite side of the alley from him. The doorframe splinters and cracks, sending the door flying inward.

Matt enters the building in a half-slant to the left, raising his guns upward as both offense and defense, squeezing off a few rounds as warning. Ducking behind a crate, he waits for the sounds of returning fire to come, but he is greeted only by silence. Grabbing the flashlight from his belt, he springs up from behind the crate and shines the light into the room, shock sweeping over his face as the scene is illuminated.

Even with the golden light falling from his flashlight, the room reflects only a deep crimson, as Matt's eyes become transfixed on the blood that covers the walls, roof, and floor of the warehouse. Around him, the torn , shredded, and maimed bodies of a dozen children are strewn across the floor, barely recognizable as human at this point. He wants to be sick, but he knows that will get him nowhere. Backpedaling out the door, he lifts his radio to his mouth and says, "Matty-boy to dispatch. I need a fricking conference of cops out here, pronto. You sure hell better send out as many coroners and beat that you can. This one's gonna take some mopping up."

"Are you surprised, Matthew? Everyday, this world sees scenes like this unfold, and more and more, that world is becoming desensitized to the violence that takes its youth from it," The Shade says, appearing behind Matthew O'Dare, seemingly from nowhere. "And yet, the true travesty of it all, is the fact that it is occurring within my city, my shining Opal."

"Can't say it shocks me, no, what with you being you and me being me. This kind of stuff just seems to wantonly attract itself to Opal. But something tells me you got more on your mind than shooting the bull on the evils of the world. Ain't neither one of us boy scouts, so cut the chit-chat and get on with it."

"I can help you find this killer, but you will need the help of Jack Knight, and quite possibly even more than that. This is an ancient evil returning to Opal after a long departure, and it goes beyond the scope of heroes and villains. If anything, I know only that there is more afoot than meets the eye."

Slowly, consciousness returns, the black waning at the edges and bleeding the color the in little-by-little. A throbbing pain beats inside his head, reminding him that he is indeed alive. From all around him, the warmth of flame dances across his skin, kept at just enough distance to make him uncomfortable but still remind him of its presence. Coughing, he manages to ask, "Where am I?"

"Welcome Ted Knight," A raspy voice responds, a flicker of movement dodging his attempt to focus upon it. "Welcome to the circus of revenge, a five ring circus that will tear your life apart, just like you sundered mine. I promised you that I would destroy everything that you loved, everything that you cherished and held close to you. Now here I am, bucko."

"Who are you?" he asks, squirming helplessly against the ropes that bind him tightly. For a moment, he wishes he were still a hero, still a man who could overcome the odds despite how stacked they were. It is then that he realizes that he is but a man.

"Come now, even you're not too old to remember the day that you and your precious Justice Society of America saw fit to toss aside your heroic sides and rend the life from a man's body. You were the heroes, the mystery men that kept evil in check and children everywhere aspiring to put on some colored tights. But I broke you down, wore down that resolve and forced you into my world. And all it took was for me to push the right buttons. But even you could not keep me down. No, until the day that my followers number zero, I shall continually plague your nights."

Ted tries to lift his head, a dull ache trying to force the muscles in his neck to give up their attempt. He squints his eyes, and draws them to bear upon the voice speaking to him, still trying to focus them without his glasses. "I don't know what you're talking about.just spit it out."

"Starman, the lone beacon of Opal City. Doctor Mid-Nite, mysterious vigilante of the darkness. Hourman, able to eclipse the fifteen minutes of fame that every man aspires to. The Flash, the fastest man alive. Green Lantern, the greatest force of will in the known universe. All of you hypocrites and sinners in your own right. You tampered with forces beyond your reckoning, and I swore to you that vengeance would back at you from beyond the grave." The voice responds, hopping madly from one foot to the other like a pendulum swinging in a clock. "You are but the first to arrive at the circus, of which I am the ringmaster of your pain. The others shall follow, and then they too shall know what it is like to have those precious things ripped from them, and a glorious celebration it shall be."

Suddenly, the movement in front of him stops, and Ted's vision finally focuses, centering on the stitches, button eyes, and burlap that cover the face of the man in front of him. Deep in his heart, he should have known this day would come, but somehow, he thought that if he had hoped hard enough, then everything would just pass on by. Speaking softly, in a consigned tone, he whispers, "Ragdoll."

"Boo."

Next Issue: Sins Revisited continues as the Ragdoll continues to mount his prophesied revenge on the JSA. But with Ted Knight in custody, and Sentinel and the Flash destined to follow, will their loved ones be safe from the fate to come? Shade and Matthew O'Dare delve into the mysteries of the killings that plague Opal City. Also, a mysterious figure returns to Opal City after a long absence. All in Starman #2.