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PREVIOUSLY. Jaime Reyes received what he thought was a mystical scarab, giving him unbelievable powers, and becoming The Blue Beetle. A year and several months pass, and the Green Lantern of Earth, Hal Jordan, unwittingly makes it possible for another scarab to be discovered by extreme-climbing Crystina Barr, who bonded with it to become the deadly Scarlet Scarab. Defeated but not subdued, the Scarlet Scarab left - with only one chilling word: SWARM. Meanwhile, Jaime has an instinctive urge to return home - and the scarab gives him a very particular idea of home: Khandaq.

 

THE SWARM: DCInfinity

Issue 1 of 3: INFESTATION

[written by Bowie Sessions]

 

And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit.
And he opened the bottomless pit; and there arose smoke, as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkened by the smoke of the pit.

REVELATIONS 9:1-2

 

[Khandaq]

Blue Beetle landed in the desert, with a great deal of shock accompanying his heavily armored landing. The heat did not manage to pierce the layers of chitinous hide that the scarab protected him with, but . well . he seemed a little off guard, having probably never planned to go anywhere around Egypt on a regular Tuesday during his lunch hour. The scarab transported him there in less time than it usually took for him to fly from San Francisco to Dallas - in the Bug, much less on his own wings. Yet, here he was, surrounded by vast tracts of dunes that stretched into infinity. "Well, Beetle-thing, I have to say - this is really not the most exciting sight I've ever seen. I think what's more exciting is the Scarlet Scarab. But, you know, whatever. Not that I have a call in the choices MY BODY MAKES FOR ME. Enough with the damn auto-pilot! I'll play along; just explain what the hell is going on."

The strange blue glyphs had begun to flicker before his vision, clearly. He could see them as they colored his vision and he strained to understand what they meant. i was born here jaime , the scarab told him.

He scratched his head and spoke out loud as he walked along the sand, which made way for his feet to sink deeply into the Earth. "Okay, so this is where you were born - but why are we here?" To Jaime's eyes, this place didn't seem any more special than any other.

all i remember is the man who found me ... and nabu. but the dreams...

Jaime's eyes lighted up, once he processed what the scarab told him this time. The differences between this, and what Booster had told him about the Scarab's history, drastically changed his understanding of all of this. "You don't remember anything before Hawkman found you, and gave you to Kord?" I thought Dan Garrett found you first?"

i don't remember this Dan Garrett finding me...

".you don't remember anything? Do you even know what you are?" It explained a little bit more to Jaime's senses, he supposed. It never opened itself to him, but he just sort of figured it was keeping mysterious. The scarab honestly didn't know what it was - or where it came from before Shazam and Ted. But it knew it came from here. It was here . because it wanted to find the answers to these same questions Jaime was asking. Jaime decided it was good to know they were on the same page now, at least.

A tall shadow suddenly hung over him, and carved out shade from the sun that bathed the rest of the sands that surrounded the Blue Beetle. Jaime glanced up to the shadow's source, only to see a particular figure amongst the haze of the sun - the flash of his dream had come to him again, of the 'Egyptian dude in the Depends'. and it settled on the figure. It was Black Adam. In his dream, he now realized, he was attacked by Black Adam.

"I have the answer to your maddened blathering," he began. "You are the dark beast-wizard Khafre. Now surrender, demon; I will not offer you such mercies again."

He crossed his arms as he hovered there imperiously, with his vicious and righteous glower burned into Jaime. I am about to respond - agreeing with him and ask what he knows about the Scarab - but the Scarab itself has an entirely different set of ideas. Launching me skyward, we flew straight for the massive monolith of a man, the titanic figure of Black Adam. Jaime immediately wished they were still on the same page.

"I'M SORRY!" Jaime screamed loudly in apology as he sailed into a man that had faced Superman, had killed half the people who died in the Crisis if some people could be believed. and stabbed him in the chest with a massive blade that jutted from his wrist. Adam cried in pain, as actual blood coated the weapon. Unable to break it off, he simply tore it free of himself and crushed the meat of the Beetle's arm within the carapace's embrace. With the Beetle still crying in pain, he dropped from the sky like a stone and landed on the desert Earth. for no reason but to start pounding Jaime into it as if his feet were the handle of a hammer, and his skull its head. Jaime felt rattled, but struggled for awareness. Bringing his arms together, he pointed them at Black Adam as his arms charged with a bright light.

"You will suffer for this affront, Khafre. You should have stayed dead. I will correct my oversight."

"I'm not doing this! Who is Khafre!" Jaime cried, while his arm pulsed, before it suddenly toned its release. The blast issued from his arm painted the sky white.

 

[Metropolis]

His name was Peter Cannon, and his smile was, on a list, probably one of his lowest ranking attributes. It was, however, the one that others liked most. Countless insomniacs who had grown tired of watching reruns of Wings on TNT, and those that needed to find a way - any way - to change their lives, appreciated his smile greatly.

Some might call Peter Cannon a schuckster or a snake-oil salesman. He called himself a "Self-Help Facilitator," or more loosely, a "Guide". His program was called "THUNDERBOLT: Awakening the You Within", as he told it he likened the sudden epiphany his program promised to the symbolic representation of the discharge of lightning - sudden and potent. In actuality, the far more complex answer hung on the history of the word Vajra, the Sanskrit word critical to Buddhism and Hinduism meaning two things: Thunderbolt, and Diamond. Their beliefs defined him, and changed his life. long before he planned to change others.

His smile showed his confidence as he explained his beliefs and his plan on the infomercials he hosted. In truth, his confidence would have bled through were he crying; but he smiled for the sake of ratings and they were watched, more than most. With his perfect blond hair, unbelievably sharp good looks and superbly honed physical fitness. He explained himself before the camera, a story they ate up, that he had retold countless times.

"My techniques for improving your happiness - your intelligence - your physical fitness - even your sex life, all come from knowledge I learned while raised amongst a Himalayan monastery. As a child, my parents died during an expedition, and I was taken in. Only once I reached mental and physical perfection did they entrust their secrets. From these masters, they taught me how to harness the unused portions of my brain - gave me focus. And through this, I controlled my own brain chemistry, allowing me happiness, fitness and a level of self-control you right now can't imagine.

"But if you join my program - you just might. It's just . mind over matter. Because remember - if you don't mind."

The audience joined, mimicking the dressed-down guru at the center stage. "It don't matter!"

He smiled in appreciation of their mastering his cue.

"Why do I give these most guarded secrets, you ask? Because in a world this dark and mired with destruction, I find it important . to give people the truth. To help unlock their real potential." His smile attracted the applause of the audience, unbidden.

"Now, let me explain the first step, because it's not as simple as it sounds. Knowing Yourself. "

 

[Khandaq]

Blue Beetle found himself in a rather exposed position; his foot and hand were both gripped high above the ground, carried above even Black Adam's head while the two flew under Adam's power high amongst the clouds. "The Wizard is not alive to bind you, Khafre! So, it must be that I make this one certain, demon," Adam taunted as they sailed higher.

"Please! Listen to me - I'm on your side! I think! I mean, I'm a superhero, and you're one now, right?" I begged, desperately, aware of the strain on me as he groaned and started pulling, intending to rip my limbs from my body.

He laughed at me, only laughed, and tightened his grips on me. I wasn't paying attention - trying to comprehend the babble of the Beetle. Up until the pain, anyway, I wasn't paying attention.

"Do you attack my loyalty now? You are in a poor position, infidel. You attack me, in my home, and then beg mercy when I had offered it. Die now," he ordered as he began to pull firmly, intending to pluck his arms and legs out of their sockets, armored or not. The inhuman armor resisted, but Adam's strength started to make it creak.

"Wait! WAITWAIT! My armor is - it's telling me it isn't Khafre! That Khafre only used it - you've been used, right? Right?" Jaime tried his best to reason with the regent of Khandaq, to little success. The Scarab, however, seemed to have an entirely different set of plans. Massive serrated spines erupted from its body, the unearthly sharp material drawing blood from Adam's hands. He dropped the Beetle, who scurried to his feet and charged both arms, glowing brightly with energy as they fixed on him. Jaime begged inside for control, and the pulsations settled on a rhythm, ready but not active.

Black Adam stared at the blood that dripped from his cuts, then to the offending 'hero' across his way. "It did that out of self-preservation. Listen - Black Adam - I . I'm not who you think I am. I am a hero. I helped save the world back then, just like you. Okay? I - have a weird thing on me, but that's all it is. It's a good thing. The beetle is a good thing. If we can just - settle down? Stop trying to kill each other and I'll explain!"

"What could possibly have me cease this? You've spilt my blood," Adam breathed darkly, fists tightened and letting drops of blood seep out its corners and between his world-shaking fingers.

"Because the Beetle gets it! He's sorry. It was instinct and-" Jaime was interrupted by the angry pseudo-Monarch.

" Instinct ?" he almost hissed through his teeth. "What manner of instinct has It assault me?"

"From when Khafre possessed it - from when it was the evil thing you think it is ," the Blue Beetle explained quickly, and sensed another rebuttal. He continued before it managed through Adam's lips. " But it doesn't matter now. Those evil things ARE here - they're just not me. It's why I - we - came here. To find out what we are. To find out how to stop them."

Black Adam's face paled, it seemed. He paled as best as it was capable of paling, his perfect poise shifted to something a little less dangerous. "There are more of them."

"I think so. It spoke of a Swarm. Of . well, when I think Bug Monster Discussing Swarm." Jaime let his words wander off into silence, and watched as Adam's posture relaxed even further. The pseudo-Monarch seemed to soften towards Jaime, while hardening to the concept. Fear nearly crossed the Man-God's features.

He took a sharp breath, and spoke with purpose. "If this is true, then . perhaps you are not my premier focus. You are a rash and insolent fool, but if sincere . the sacrifices I was forced to make to stop your symbiote would be nothing, compared to what a swarm of these insects would be. I demand you tell me more."

Blue Beetle's eyes widened, through the armor and in it's reflection of his form. He almost laughed. "Look, I don't know! It's why I came here. I can - I can tell you what I do know. But only if you promise not to try to dismember me again."

Black Adam just glared at him. His contempt was made very clear.

 

[ Berkeley ]

She laughed as she examined a small necklace maker's stand. "You can really write that small?" she asked the street vendor, whose roll-up cart presented an assortment of bracelets and necklaces. She marveled at a small container, which carried within it a single grain of sand, this being the premier focus of the vendor's trade. The beautiful customer, whose long silky black hair was thrown carelessly from where it had fallen in her face, dazzled others in the crowd by merely standing there. Her posture was seemingly unconcerned, brave and proud. She stood tall, and for a woman of her size - just over six foot - that meant a great deal, her shoulders spanned and muscular body dressed comfortably in jeans and a simple t-shirt.

She didn't need make-up and fine fabrics to make her beautiful. The term was natural beauty , and she was unworried in the face of the horror that was occurring, essentially, a half a world away.

"You can really put my name on that. That's amazing," she said, her smile broad and full of warmth. On her break from the clinic she was working at, she wandered down the street to the local Asian Grotto. The peculiar trade had her stop, and made her smile, when she handed him a twenty-dollar bill after scribbling her name on it.

She waited patiently, her eyes cast into the distance while the vendor worked under a microscope with a careful hand and a very very fine ink pen. For all her warmth and beauty, there was something strange hidden in her eyes - it was a weight and burden that she suffered under silently.

The vendor called her attention, "Ma'am," and her head turned to face the plainly dressed middle-aged woman who fashioned her necklace for her. She smiled as the vendor presented her the small necklace, with its capsule, letting her own worries disappear for a moment as she allowed herself to enjoy this.

"Keep the change," she told her as she examined the necklace, eyeing the tiny grain of rice hidden within its capsule. Diana , it read, before she slid the necklace around her neck and clasped it closed. Diana moved quickly from the stand - after all, she was only on break, and she had important work still left to do.

 

[Metropolis]

It was early evening in Metropolis, but in the midst of Suicide Slums, it always seemed somehow like perpetual four-AM. Existing as a dreary, lifeless hour where men walked around either as zombies or predators. Among the throng of homeless and criminal, our story focused on two young men - unlikely old enough to drink - that moved through the shadows with deft purpose.

"Where are we going, Miguel?" the scrawny kid asked as he glanced over to the young Mexican kid - Miguel - next to him. They navigated these slums slowly and carefully, Miguel leading the way for both of them. They were wearing anything but high fashion - greatly soiled hoodies over torn pants and filthy shirts; it looked like they were natives to the street.

"Just trust me, Denny. There's a kitchen up here," Miguel explained to him - Denny - as they traveled through the back ways of Metropolis' slums. Denny looked nervous, but Miguel seemed to be completely unconcerned, forceful and determined steps leading them both towards, if Miguel is to be believed, a kitchen for those disenchanted and mostly forgotten.

They winded through the walkways, past the dying and the poor. "I don't think this is the way to the soup, man," Denny whispered as his eyes flitted about as one not used to such destitution might. Walking ahead of him, Miguel just smiled, a wide, wicked smile on the shoddily and bulkily-dressed young Mexican American's particularly dark skin.

"Have you ever studied Roman mythology?" Denny looked puzzled, and wasn't able to come up with an answer before Miguel continued. "To punish the theft of fire, by Prometheus, Vulcan - God of Fire, from who Prometheus stole fire and knowledge - fashioned Pandora, the vessel which carried all the sins and illnesses as a punishment for this doing."

"So." Denny asked, puzzled by the point.

"Vulcan was considered the kindest of Gods; he protected those worthy, gave freely and often. He benefited man with countless tools and magical arms. Like magic swords and shields, for instance. Yet, this once - this one time - man messed with him, took without asking. And what did he do? He smote them.

"Vulcan was wrathful."

Denny continued to seem puzzled. "Cool story, I guess, yeah. What's this got to do with anything, though, Mig? I'm really not followin', here." He followed behind still, trusting and afraid, but nonetheless confident in his newly made friend.

Miguel stopped walking as soon as he rounded a corner, and Denny came up behind him. They were in a dead end alley-way. It loomed menacingly, as Miguel started speaking quietly and slowly. "Your kind came here, and took from us. Took our lives away. Our peace away. Our health and life. Your kind - aliens. You think I don't know about you? You think I just happened to save you from that fight? I followed you from San Francisco , Durlan. It's because your punishment had to be by my hand . It's my birthright. It's Vulcan's cause now, as then."

Denny backed up, slowly, hesitantly. "I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout, Mig, I'm - I'm just a guy, why would I - you're sick, man, you need to get your head checked out. I'll let this go, I just I'm gonna start walkin', okay?"

Miguel threw off his hoodie, revealing a gleaming armor. He pulled the sword from its massive sheath on his back, covered by the hoodie and the jacket he had just shucked. "Not okay," he whispered and turned. Denny started running - but Miguel threw his hand and a massive pyre of flame erupted before him.

Denny paused, and it gave Miguel the needed seconds. He lowered the massive, glowing sword and pulled it through the wind to cross from Denny's one shoulder to another. Denny's head separated from his body and landed on the ground, rolling twice before Denny's body followed suit. Both of them changed, suddenly, becoming rounder, thicker unblemished skin, green with two antennae from his forehead.

"Durlans," Miguel whispered.

 

[Khandaq]

Jaime's eyes were wide as he walked within Black Adam's palace. They entered it to the cries and cheers of his people, a massive glimmering jewel amidst a surprisingly verdant greenery cultivated carefully in this environment. The expansive estate welcomed them in its wide arms, two massive engraved artwork-emblazoned doors parted before them as they arrived, both flying under their own power before they landed at its doorstep. There was an amount of awe that Blue Beetle forced himself to bite back, marveling at the ceilings taller than any building on his block, the pianos and statuary, the chandeliers . and the zoo visible through the two-story tall glass that overlooks the Olympic pool.

The Blue Beetle had never truly taken in wealth before, and now he practically drowned in gold. He followed Black Adam to a large doorway - and beyond it was an incredible library, a circular room with a rolling ladder affixed to the walls. Black Adam simply floated off the ground and rose towards the ceiling. "Touch absolutely nothing, insect," he warned Jaime brusquely while he sought the reason they came.

As any teenager would do, Jaime slouched against a seat impotently, and started to look out curiosity. As soon as he disappeared from sight, however, the Beetle extended his hand to pick up a nearby statue of an elephant and lifted it, examining the base as if he expected to find a Made in China seal.

"I said touch nothing!" Adam barked, angrily, and Jaime quickly set it down, hand-in-the-cookie jar expression clear through the carapace. His mouth parted slightly, Jaime couldn't bring up much from his throat to say in his own defense. The monarch's eyes narrowed and he moved on from his rage.

"Never mind. Tell a child not to act childish; perhaps I am the fool for it," Adam permitted, ruefully. He lowered himself to the ground and sat at the table placed center of the room, opening a photo-journal. Within it, pictures. Pictures of walls - covered in Hieroglyphics. It looked to be one book in a series of books - and he flipped through many pages to find the wall that discussed it.

"The Wizard and I spoke the story to another, who painted it clearly. The Wizard destroyed the site of the bonding, but we storied it in another. I do not remember each detail, I was only there for its capture and hoped this might aid us-" Adam began, but the Blue Beetle seemed glazed, as if he had fallen asleep while sitting up. Adam continued to speak for a moment, ignored. He lightly struck the table, and Blue Beetle faintly heard a sound of the crash - his head snapped up and he looked to Adam, in shock.

"I understand it. I - was . kind of reading it," he explained. Adam looked questionably at him, but allowed him to read.

There was a great battle , it began, The God-King Teth-Adam fought a persona of Ra, the silvered scarab, which bonded itself to the great and dangerous dark wizard Khafre.
The wizard Khafre's already incredible powers were made far grander by the divine creature, which he twisted into his own blasphemous purpose by his wicked lusts for power.
He warred for many days and nights against the God-King, the Wizard and their Warriors - those of Horus' face and the mighty Master of Fate.
Scores of soldiers died at the claws of the Silver Scarab; the demon born in Ra's imagine feasted heavily upon its attackers' bodies, drained them of their life and grew only stronger.
It took an attack of all their strength to force the Silver Scarab into the womb of the Wizard's caves, to face the dread of the Sins of Men. In this cave, the Wizard stripped Khafre of power, and tore him from the Silver Scarab - birthing a scarab stone to contain Khafre's spirit and that wickedness within the Silver Scarab. Praise be the God-King Teth-Adam and his Sacred Warriors.

Blue Beetle could do little but blink as he finished reading the pictures' inlaid text. "It's somewhere else," Jaime stated, abstractly.

".what is?" Adam queried, his eyes set tightly upon Jaime now, curiosity highly peaked despite himself. Human nature is a hard thing to entirely dislodge.

"Khafre. That's what it meant. 'Birthing a scarab stone' - he didn't mean mine. He made an artifact to hold Khafre. That's . the one the first Beetle found. Not the one Hawkman found." Black Adam's expression grew further puzzled, until clarity seemed to click behind his eyes and he understood implicitly - there are two stones, and one is false. Khafre's is false.
"The woogy evilness of my Scarab is inside that stone. And so is Khafre. Don't you know anything else? How he found it? Where it came from in the first place? Is that it?"

"If you would ask me but one question, we could consider this civil still. I tire of this discourse - I do not know where he found it, but I imagine . the desert, as Katar must have, as well. though I do not understand why he would unearth this evil. Its origins are a mystery - perhaps Khafre knew, but he has been long silent now. The Wizard certainly knew - but the crisis saw his death.
"It is all I know of this matter," he explained, slowly, impatience deep in his voice, as if he were trying to explain a complicated procedure to a small child that did not speak the language. Intolerance and condescension were clear, and Blue Beetle rankled slightly against it but continued on with what he had left to say.

 

Jaime smiled, and nodded his head in appreciation. The luscious expanse of this library and this palace seemed to start to dull in its awe, as horror set in of just what he might need to do. ".I know where it is, then. Maybe it's time he stopped being silent. Booster told me where the first Beetle is buried - and he's entombed with Khafre's false scarab. I might - might be able to talk to him. If it really took a part of my scarab's spirit, maybe - it's a chance."

"Then we go, before we are far too late."

 

[ Portland ]

John Fox had finished research. There was a fact he had uncovered, upon returning to this time - he had arrived before the Swarm, an event notable for its sudden, brief and horrifying results that spilled across the world. Fully aware that by time's intention, he was here, the inferred truth was that he had to fight this dark evil.

John Fox, the Fastest Man Alive, the Cop from the Future, also known now as THE FLASH, had remembered a critical detail. He recalled that the spread of the Swarm truly began in the Pacific Northwest , shortly after Halloween. These last few days, he had spent a considerable amount of time in a hurried blur along the coastlines and inland or intermittently monitoring newscast for any signs. If he had his way, John Fox intended to stop this thing cold. He reasoned it might be why he was here. It might save the Corps. Unfortunately, it also might keep her alive.

Then, it came. Portland , Oregon . A news flash - fifteen had been found dead in a café, windows shattered and its wooden tables crushed. The initial thought was a bomb - but no injuries were noted, simply the victims left lifeless with small burns. Within seconds, The Flash was there. He noticed the burns - electrical burns. He sped off, certain.

It took him less than two minutes to find a small girl screaming in pain. On top of her, he recognized a clear resemblance to the Blue Beetle - except with their carapace carved a deep scarlet. "Get away from her, NOW!" Rushing for her, he reached her before the next note breached the throat of the young victim. John Fox tore the Scarlet Scarab's hand free of the girl and struck repeatedly her face plate. From her back sprouted a massive set of wings, even while he tried to create a fracture explosion - the 'Mach One Punch' - in the face of the carapace.

Flying high, he removed himself from her and changed his plan, rushing to rescue the girl and take her somewhere safe. As soon as he gripped her, she looked up to him and screamed again - this time, a massive insect - it looked like a scarab - left her lips and entered his open mouth. The Flash dropped her and lowered to his knees, focusing on coughing and trying to dislodge it.

"Wh-what is. HKKK. HKKK. what is - it." he hacked and coughed again, before suddenly his eyes closed and he collapsed to the ground, spasming. Within him, the scarab had taken root, grafting itself to his spinal column through a quick excursion down his esophageal lining and some vicious burrowing through his flesh, blood filling his stomach in the process.

John Fox, though, was no normal man. He forced himself to his feet and sped once more towards inevitable failure. "You think this is going to stop me?" he called out to the Scarlet Scarab above, and he quickly began to move around her. Faster and faster he spun, creating the classic vortex in the air which sucked her down, taking away her natural advantage of wings - which require lift. She was given absolutely none. The Scarlet Scarab started to drop down, even as she beat her wings faster and faster. It mattered little, as she soon landed on the ground thanks to his tricks. Ending the vortex, he dropped on top of her and began the assault once more. Rapid-fire blows from a fist thrown so fast that it caused the minutest of cracks in her armor, her eyes seemed to widen - seemed to worry. Enough and he could rupture her, and he knew it.

"This is where it all starts. So this is where it stops, Scarab," he warned, darkly, as they joined. The Scarab attempted wild attacks, massive swings of its serrated flesh and blades, but the Flash proved far too quick. He dodged her every blow, and came back at her with a thousand more. She was sure his hand was bloodied - but he only cared about stopping her. He only cared about saving their world.

She could appreciate his zeal, but she suffered under his blows and cried out in a low keen, for help, from Others. It could not reach their few ears, even as she was so violently assaulted. A pair of pincers finally erupted from her sides and stabbed within his flanks, which caused the Flash to cry in pain as blood seeped his side. It paused him - slowed him down - for long enough that the creature could overtake him. The one within.

The creature finished its joining, and the Flash gasped one last time, and his eyes shut closed as he fell limp on her - only seconds before his eyes again opened to now reveal an eyeless white orb, moments before a carapace began to erupt from his very skin. His new hide was a gleaming, silver carapace. The Scarlet Scarab raised her battered form off the ground, cracked and violated, and smiled through the mottled flesh of the Scarab as she found both of her feet carefully.

"It is too late for you," she whispered, both in English and the language of the Beetle, an inhuman clicking that ran below her speech. She gloated over the conquered body of the man from the future, confident in her victory.

"Go. Spread my children, and unearth those parasites that remain. Find your brothers. The Swarm begins." With these words, the Flash did not pause, did not hesitate. The Silver-carapaced speedster raced into the distance in a blink of an eye, and within seconds began criss-crossing the globe.

Scarab after scarab dropped in the most occupied of territories. The Flash's work was just beginning.

He was right. The Swarm did begin in the Pacific Northwest . And he was also right - he came here just in time to make a difference.

It never would have been the same otherwise.