From DC: Gods and Monsters MUX
Stephen Hawkins once stated that "if aliens visited us, the outcome would be much as when Columbus landed in America, which didn't turn out well for the Native Americans." One year ago, we couldn't have known if he was right or not, but after the Invasion, humanity can sleep in peace knowing that by stroke of luck or destiny, our visitors and domestic defenders will protect us.
Four years ago today a blur of red and blue crossed the skies of Metropolis for the first time to save the 235 people inside a doomed plane plummeting fast towards New Troy. I was never so scared in my life then. We all were. I found my religion again in those moments I swore would be my last. Many of us did, but he came, out of nowhere and took us in his arms, propped us on his back and, as gently as one can to an out-of-control 747, led us to the safety of Metropolis Park.
Two hundred and thirty five people, and the only death was due to Mrs. Karen Muzy's cardiac arrest. Most of us were ecstatic, myself included, but not him. As if he knew of Mrs. Muzy's condition he ripped the airplane door like it was made out of wet cardboard and rushed to her aid. This godlike being, who had saved two hundred and thirty four people, held Mrs. Muzy's hand and I could see in his eyes more humanity than I can say I have ever seen in any of my fellow workers, my friends or in my mirror.
The world has changed since then. Batlike demons bring fear to the heart of the wicked in old Gotham and fantastical civilizations revealed themselves to us. Governments still reel at the arrival of the "Man of Steel" and the others like him, forcing humanity to reassess its place in the universe, and what it even means to be human. Some of these arrivals are violent anarchs created in South American hellish prisons while others are inhumane monsters born in labs or Earth's virgin forests.
We don't know who they are, but many live among us. Some want the same as you and I, and have favorites in every season of The Voice, while others roam among mere mortals wishing them harm, or wishing they could belong. This is a different world than it was five years ago, before him.
I know what you are wondering. Wouldn't we be better off?
Maybe. Maybe we don't need half-machine men picking fights with bank robbers when we just want to get home, or hear about another victim of an Arkham Asylum fixture, but I was there when he came. I was looking into his eyes as he gazed at Mrs. Muzy. There is something we lost and that, maybe, our new gods can show how we can get back. Maybe it is they who will teach us what it is to be human, once again.