Original subtitles

There was an announcement today

of a breakthrough

at the Institute for Extraspatial Studies.

Researchers there have learned

of new energy sources found in previously

- unknown dimensions.

Tonight, on the Benny Anger Show.

Citing rising tensions with the Soviet Union,

scientists have moved the Doomsday Clock

to 60 seconds to midnight.

Are we truly so close to nuclear annihilation?

But first, we ask the average citizen,

"Is America ready for war?"

So The Gazette

has this nuclear-attack procedure article.

It says dead family members should be wrapped

in garbage bags

and placed outside for collection.

It sounds like America getting ready for war

means Americans getting ready to die.

Getting ready to die.

It's beautiful work.

I hope that ship keeps it properly refrigerated

on its voyage.

If it decays--

It's plenty cold where it's headed.

After two years on this godforsaken island

creating the thing, he'll make sure

it doesn't spoil before the big reveal.

But, Ms. Manish,

I thought you'd be glad to see the back of that damn thing,

- not sketching the front.

Well, Mr. Shea,

I just wanted some final sketches

of the facial assembly,

especially that amazing beak structure.

"Amazing"?

You sound like the scientists down there.

So caught up in their own accomplishment,

blind to the horror of this monstrosity

we dreamed up,

this nightmare they made real.

For one man's vision,

we've all gone through hell and back.

But can we go back?

Think he'll let us off this island?

We signed the non-disclosure agreement,

we've been well compensated.

And our ship to the mainland will be here in a few days.

Why such dark thoughts, Max?

Oh, well, yeah. I'm sure you're right.

I guess in all this business,

there are more than a few uncomfortable parallels

to an old comic book story I wrote.

A vile little yarn from Tales of The Black Freighter.

Adrift and starving,

my darkest imaginings welled up unchecked,

spilling from brain to heart like black ink.

Taxi!

I imagine Davidstown

overrun by The Freighter's tattooed fiends.

My wife was almost certainly dead.

I remembered her and my beautiful daughters

waving goodbye from the verandah.

Glad my Rosa ain't alive to see this.

All now dead.

Everything's going to hell.

- Look at this. Look at this... - Mm.

I imagined

my shipmates' bloated corpses...

Doc Manhattan leaves the planet...

...and the putrefying shark...

Russians on the warpath.

...carrying my raft to oblivion.

- Ozymandias attacked... - All dead.

I tell ya.

It all reads like headlines from ten years ago,

before they banned all the masked avengers in '77.

Hey, speaking of, you see this Rorschach item?

They finally caught him last week.

Turns out he was a customer here, huh?

Ror-- I mean, Walter Kovacs? Interesting.

Incredible, right?

- Thank you. - Yeah.

Makes you wonder

what makes a guy like Rorschach tick?

Could probably go off at any second.

Faced with horrors both intolerable

and unavoidable,

I chose madness.

Hey, settle it down.

Hey, Rorschach.

You're pretty famous around here.

I'd sure like to get your autograph.

I got a pen right here.

Get that asshole! Kill him!

Come here, you son of a...

- Get him!

Rip this guy apart!

It's payback time, Rorschach.

- Kill him!

- Enough, Kovacs.

Down on the ground!

Got him pinned! Call for backup.

This place is about to explode.

Get that motherfucker!

You're dead, Rorschach. Dead!

None of you understand.

I'm not locked up in here with you.

You're locked up in here with me.

Dan?

Uh, Dan?

Dan, are you down here?

Oh, my...

Wow.

Whoa!

Shit!

- Laurie? Laurie? Laurie! - Dan!

- Laurie? - Dan!

- Laurie! - Dan!

Jesus!

Hold on.

Laurie, are you okay?

I am so sorry.

I was looking for you, and... and...

No, no. I was... I was just in the...

Are you... are you okay?

I think I accidentally hit a button in your...

I was... I was just tinkering with Archie earlier,

- and I left him on... - I'm sorry. Archie?

Yeah. The Owl Ship.

It doesn't... it doesn't-- Are you hurt?

Really...

- Oh. - I'm fine.

Sorry. Um...

I've-- Well... I've been a little...

on edge lately.

I wasn't going to say it.

I mean, since you've been letting me live here all week.

- But, yeah,

you've been jumping at shadows.

I guess I didn't want to talk about it.

It's just...

After the Comedian died,

Jon, Adrian, and Rorschach were attacked within days.

I'm starting to worry--

You're not taking Rorschach's mask-killer nonsense seriously,

- are you? - Well, um...

Oh, no.

Oh, Dan. I'm so sorry.

No, no. It's... it's fine.

Had some good times in this suit, but...

those times went up in smoke a long time ago.

You miss those times?

Nah.

Looking back, it was all just embarrassing, really.

A school kid's fantasy.

Well, at least you were living out your own fantasies.

I was living out my mother's.

Well, in a way, I mean, my dreams were kind of forged

by the adventures of the Minutemen.

I idolized Hollis,

which defied my father's plans for me.

Ooh! Do tell.

Well... Dad was pushing me to follow him into banking,

but I preferred keeping scorecards

on crime fighters over currency.

Still, he kept me focused, and I made it into Harvard.

I was majoring in aeronautics and zoology when he died.

And he left me with a lot of money.

With no one around to talk me out of it,

this happened.

You made your dreams real.

A dream made real

just becomes another messy reality, doesn't it?

But, yeah,

when I was in the moment, I made it my own.

I think we both made it our own.

See that souvenir case?

I was keeping my own scorecard

separate from Hollis' Nite Owl adventures.

I was writing my own future history.

Well, I couldn't wait to ditch all that stuff

from my adventuring days.

As you can probably tell, my two boxes of belongings

that just arrived from the Rockefeller eviction.

Honestly, I'm surprised they bothered

to send me anything after... our separation.

- Do you miss Jon?

I keep thinking I should.

Even when I was with him, he was never really there

unlike all the government agents

keeping tabs on us.

On how I kept Jon happy.

But, hey, I could only dream about what you've got here.

You're lucky to be on your own with your privacy intact.

Yeah...

Lucky.

Just another messy reality, huh?

Is there any other kind?

And these days it feels like

reality is crashing down around us all.

Now you sound like Rorschach again.

Dan, his mask-killer theory doesn't hold up.

Jon left Earth of his own free will.

Rorschach was caught red-handed committing murder.

Where's the conspiracy?

It's not like Rorschach to just shoot someone.

Too easy.

And those events timed so closely

to the attack on Adrian

and the murder of the Comedian, too coincidental.

Rorschach was on to it from day one.

Look, I know that mask has eaten his brains

over the years,

but we worked together.

Rorschach was always

a brilliant investigator and tactician.

So, I can't help but wonder

if he found any evidence that links all these events.

I just wish I could find out what's in his head.

Okay, Walter.

Now, I guess you know what this is?

I want you to look at it and tell me what you see.

Will you look at it, Walter?

Will you do that for me?

What can you see?

A pretty bird.

That's great.

Let's try another, shall we?

What do you see?

- A pretty butterfly. - Wonderful, Walter.

This is going so well for our first session.

This really helps me to speak

to your psychological fitness for your trial.

Let's keep going.

What do you see on this card?

And feel free to describe

all the images that come to mind.

Oh, yes!

Hey! Get lost, you little shit!

He ain't paying to see your ugly face.

Where are you going, whoreson?

Don't touch him!

Son of a bitch probably got diseases.

That true, whoreson--

Get off!

Well, Walter?

What do you make of it?

You keep calling me Walter.

I don't like you.

Uh... you don't like me?

Fat, wealthy.

Think you understand pain.

I'll tell you about pain, Doctor.

I'll tell you about...

Rorschach.

Born by the mistake of a whore,

ward of state by age ten.

After mother was murdered, only one childhood regret.

Not being there to spit on her remains.

Became manual worker in garment industry,

received special order for a dress

in new Doctor Manhattan spin-off fabric.

Viscous fluids between latex layers,

heat and pressure sensitive.

Customer, Kitty Genovese, never collected order.

Didn't know why.

Black and white, changing shape but not mixing.

No gray.

Very, very beautiful.

Next day, learned Kitty Genovese was murdered.

Raped and killed outside her own apartment.

Nearly 40 neighbors heard screams.

Nobody did anything. Nobody called cops.

Some of them even watched.

They watched!

That's when I knew what people were

behind all the self-deception.

Ashamed for humanity, I went home.

Took Kitty's unwanted dress

and made a face I could bear to look at

in the mirror.

1975, worked kidnap case.

Blair Roache. Six years old.

Questioned informants.

One bled answers.

An address.

Disused dressmaker's in Brooklyn.

I was just Kovacs, then. Pretending to be Rorschach.

Naive. Soft. Didn't understand.

Until I found her.

Nothing left but pieces. Ashes in stove.

Blood on chopping block. Bones for dogs.

She was consumed by evil.

Never had a chance. Neither did Kovacs.

Finally understanding man's true capacity for horror,

Kovacs closed his eyes.

It was Rorschach who opened them again.

Put dogs down easy. They didn't know better.

Gerald Grice did.

What-- No. Hey!

Put him down hard.

I told you I didn't do nothing to that girl.

You have nothing on me.

Come on, man. What are you doing?

What is this?

Don't bother sawing through handcuffs.

- Never make it in time. - Oh, my God. You're crazy!

What... what, you're gonna burn me?

You can't do this. Stop! No! Oh, God! No!

No! No!

Once a man has seen,

he can never turn his back on it,

never pretend it doesn't exist,

no matter who orders him to look away.

I do not do this thing because it is permitted.

I do it because I have to.

I do it because I am compelled.

I... I see.

No. You don't.

But have patience, Doctor.

You will.

How does Adrian do it?

He's barely older than I am, but he's in better shape now

than I ever was in my Nite Owl days.

Back when he retired from being Ozymandias,

he had me and Jon up to visit his Grand Antarctic retreat.

Such a show-off.

You visited Karnak? Did... did you see Bubastis?

Yeah. He sent me off

to go play with his overgrown house cat.

Genetically modified lynx, actually.

- Fascinating.

The only fascination there was between Jon and Adrian.

They talked endlessly.

He uses his Veidt Enterprises fortune

to advance science.

- Nauseating. - And fund charities.

- He makes it seem so easy.

He retired from one fantasy and just... built another.

He was... just born with the answer

that no money or power or a family can give you.

Answer to what?

After taking off the mask,

who are you?

Well, here's to Adrian, the man with the answers.

- Ugh.

Hey, what... what's in your pocket?

Oh, I, uh... rescued these from the fire.

My spare Owl Goggles. Where were they?

In, uh... Archie.

- Archie? - Well, nice that you two are so familiar

after teaming up to destroy my secret lair.

Here. Try them on. Experience my Owl Vision.

No matter how black it gets,

when you look through these, everything is clear as day.

Why, Mr. Dreiberg...

You're ravishing.

Oh, they must be broken. Let me look...

I can't get the-- No, got it. Sorry.

I'm... so sorry. It's not you.

- It's just... - Hey, relax. It's okay.

- No, you deserve better. - Dan...

- I mean, I really want this. - It doesn't matter.

I know how it is when something's not right.

We'll just sleep now. Okay?

- Just sleep.

Coming up on the eleven o'clock news.

Russian forces push further into Afghanistan.

And Pakistan calls on the US to intervene,

but Russia claims to be merely securing her borders.

We also have a special report on noted author Max Shea,

who mysteriously vanished two years ago.

Hear why investigators' search for clues

has ended in failure.

Well, well, well.

Hey there, Rorschach.

It's been a long time.

Big Figure. Small world.

"Small world." I like that.

You know, after 20 years,

I guess you thought you could forget about

what you did to me.

You and that fucking Owl guy.

Funny how these things

come back to haunt us though, huh?

Speaking of, that guy you burned is dying.

Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day.

But see, he had lots of friends around here.

And when he dies,

this place blows and then you die...

by inches.

Tall order.

Smart ass!

Gonna tear this guy a new hole right now.

Hey, hey, hey. No hurry.

I've waited 20 years.

He'll get his soon enough. And nobody's gonna care.

I hear even his shrink resigned today.

You're alone in the valley of the shadow, Rorschach,

where your past has a long reach.

And the only thing between you and it

is one... crummy... lock.

Think about it.

You okay?

Bad dreams. Bad realities.

I hope it's not what happened earlier.

It's the mask-killer thing.

Four of us taken down,

war looming on the horizon,

I'm... terrified it's all connected

and the worst is yet to come.

And I can't do anything to stop it.

It all just makes me feel so...

so... impotent.

So, I ran down here.

For all the good that did.

It's not like taking the ship out

can set things straight.

Why not?

You're serious?

I used to be a masked avenger too, remember.

I'm used to going out at 3:00 in the morning

and doing something stupid.

Wait, I... I burned your suit, remember?

Spare goggles, spare suit.

- Dan? - Mm-hm?

I'm ready.

Let's go.

Hope we don't get caught.

Whoa!

This is great. Really great.

Dan, trouble on your right.

Hold on!

- Building looks clear.

No, wait.

- There! - Somebody, please!

Looks like four adults. Can we pick them up?

Already on it!

Please stay calm.

We're here to rescue you.

Step back from the window.

Madre de Dios!

Mother of God is right.

Oh, I'm an entirely different Spectre.

And certainly nobody's mother.

Vamonos, por favor.

Let's go.

- Gracias. - Thanks.

- Welcome aboard. - Hey!

You're that... Owl guy.

Who?

Dark Owl!

Who wants to hear some music?

Oh!

- Salud. - Thanks.

Gracias.

What the hell just happened?

Did that just happen?

You do know they might lock us up

with Rorschach for this.

Yeah.

And World War III might start tomorrow.

Dan!

- Tonight was good. - It was.

I'd hoped tonight might wake something inside you.

Oh, it did.

Insatiable, huh?

So, what should we do next?

We... should spring Rorschach.

What?

In my ravings,

desperate for company,

I conversed with my perished shipmates.

Their voices spoke from beneath the raft.

The conversation of the dead, dreary...

Oh, man. Ten days to nuclear war, Derf.

- ...bitter. - That's what they said on TV.

...endlessly sad.

Oh, Jesus, Derf, just get me some Katies,

so I can get high, man.

Interminable bad news from mouths

wherein the little fishes dart.

It's that Manhattan guy who brought this down on us.

Oh! The new papers just arrived.

There's a riot at the prison.

- Give me that! - Whoa! Hey!

We got friends there.

"Vigilante sparks prison riot. Five dead."

Rorschach again.

Making headlines

after some other heroes made the news

for the tenement fire rescue.

Goddamn masks!

Come on. Let's round up the guys.

There's gonna be hell to pay for this.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was all connected.

We talked together,

my rotted fellows and I

of life...

A news vendor senses these things.

...and endings...

It all spells trouble.

...of the terrible sentence

upon us all.

We'll get murdered in the chaos by cops or criminals.

- Either way-- - No, wait. Look.

We'd already planned on distracting the guards.

The prison riot does the job for us.

I can tune into police radio chatter,

and we'll get up-to-the-minute intel

on positions and strategies.

This is our ticket inside.

He is a homicidal maniac

you hope will validate this long-shot theory of yours.

Is busting out Rorschach really worth risking our butts?

Mm.

Your butt's in safe hands.

If not, I'll be kicking yours.

Hollis?

Oh, just thought I'd check in after you missed

our beer session the other night.

I'm sorry, Hollis.

I just got caught up in a book. Dozed off.

Coffee?

Sure.

So... seen the news lately?

Can't miss the headlines

about this war they say is coming.

There was a smaller story yesterday

about a tenement fire,

and a highly unusual rescue.

- Nope. Nope.

- Nope. - Now, wait.

- Ah-ha. - Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

You're saying Dr. Manhattan

leaving the planet was orchestrated?

Timed between the attacks

on Blake, Adrian, and Rorschach, yes.

It's too coincidental.

The cancer-scare media assault on Jon had to be manufactured.

Laurie lived with him,

and she never contracted cancer.

But I did some digging.

The cancer victims mentioned in Nova Express

were all employed at some point by the same company.

Again, too coincidental.

I think somebody used these specific people

and the press to prompt Jon's exile,

and I think it's part of a plan

to start World War III.

Whoa! That's a long-shot theory.

Laurie said as much, too.

And this company, connecting the cancer victims,

who are they?

And how do they connect

to Blake, Adrian, and Rorschach?

The company's called Dimensional Developments.

Beyond the name, I've hit a wall

investigating their corporate structure.

What about Adrian?

He's connected to the corporate world

and would certainly be motivated to help.

Without stronger evidence,

sharing this conspiracy theory with a man in his position

might put him in a compromising situation.

I mean, he... he might have to report us, but...

but I'm working another lead

that, uh, should break loose very soon.

I'm sure you'll crack the case, kid.

I believe in you.

And thanks for sharing the details.

Mm.

It feels like the old days again.

Hey, we Nite Owls have to stick together.

Well, that's why I paid a visit, Dan.

If I can figure out who made the rescue

at the tenement fire,

so can the police.

Crap. We're out of time.

Well, no going back now.

If we don't crack this case,

there may be no going back for any of us.

Go, go, go. We got shots fired.

Officer down! South-west corner!

Surrender, or you will be fired on!

Aren't you glad they keep you in solitary?

Now our reunion won't be interrupted

by the mob out there.

Lawrence, hurry up with the arc welder.

What's the matter, Rorschach? Too warm in there?

Well, it's gonna get plenty warmer.

Yeah. You notice how, all of a sudden,

he ain't giving you no, "tall order, small world" shit?

Maybe he figured out once we cut through these bars,

we're gonna make him a little shorter.

Fat chance.

Fat? You lousy bastard!

We got a jail full of guys out here who hate your guts.

What have you got?

- Your arms.

Hey! What the hell?

Lawrence, you stupid son of a bitch!

Now we can't get to the lock.

Sorry, Figure.

Michael can still cut through the bars.

That'll take too long.

This riot won't last,

and I don't want to be interrupted.

- Sorry, Lawrence... - No!

...but you're in the way of my revenge.

- No, boss! - Michael, cut through him.

- No, no, wait! - Nothing personal, Larry.

Wait! Hey!

One-nothing.

- Your move.

Come and get me.

That thing ain't one of ours.

Open fire!

Land your aircraft or we will use deadly force.

Police radio says this area is controlled by prisoners.

Ear plugs in. Hitting the screechers.

- Ugh!

Shoot that thing down!

Hurry up with that lock.

I wanna smell this son of a bitch cooking.

Then I'm gonna carve him up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

We're in.

Look at him

climbing up onto his bed like a scared kid.

We got you now, you little bastard.

Never disposed of sewage with toilet before.

Obvious, really.

Two-nothing.

Your move.

How will we find him in all of this?

Assuming he's not dead.

He attracts this horror and madness.

This is where he lives.

Help! Somebody get this guy! Help!

Hey, Rorschach!

Hey!

Help!

Rorschach!

Hey, man. We came to bust you out.

Excuse me. I have to visit men's room.

Oh, for Christ's sake!

Well, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

Look, we got masks in here!

That's Nite Owl! Get 'em!

Hey! We are trying to stop a war!

Um... guess I'm kind of bitter about...

losing the house.

- I better radio the ship.

Did what had to be done.

Can leave now.

- Are you sure? - This way.

Did you wash your hands?

Archie's covering our exit.

Did you flush?

Flushed twice.

A little clogged.

Don't let them escape!

Track them with the lights!

Land your aircraft now!

I repeat! Land your aircraft!

Everybody will be looking for us up here.

I know a place to hide and plan our next move.

Good seeing you in uniform, Daniel.

Like old times.

Never liked your uniform, Ms. Juspeczyk.

- Nothing personal. - Ugh!

Can't believe we agree on something.

- Jesus.

- Hello. - Jon.

They said you were on Mars.

I am on Mars.

We have a conversation scheduled there.

You're going to try to convince me

to save this world.

To-- I have to convince you?

Jon, we really need your help here on Earth.

This is all so deus ex machina.

The god out of the machine. Yes, I suppose it is.

Nevertheless,

an hour into the future, we are on Mars talking.

- Mars? We don't have time-- - Dan.

I think I'd better go with him.

Maybe we'll find a way out of this mess.

I'll be okay.

Laurie, wait.

Take care.

Pity they won't be working with us.

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

Here we are.

What do you think?

Oh, of course. Forgive me.

Sometimes these things slip my mind.

- Are you okay?

Jesus! Jon, you stupid son of a...

Holy shit.

This is where we debate Earth's destiny.

Truly, life is hell...

And death's rough hand, our only deliverance.

I would endure no more bubbling dialogues from the dead.

No more ramblings of damnation.

No more judgments of our sins.

...vigilante known as Nite Owl,

entered the riot and freed suspected murderer,

Walter Kovacs,

also known as Rorschach.

Both escaped police capture by aircraft.

Argh!

More details are still coming in.

- Goddamn it! - Derf! What the hell?

Hey, hey, hey.

We don't want no trouble around here.

Shut up, old man.

These super bastards get away with everything

while our guys catch hell in that riot.

It ain't fair!

Though dreading such a black,

breathless end, I leapt...

Hey, the news guy mentioned Nite Owl.

...feet first into cold,

dank mortality.

Derf, he's the guy who wrote that book about the masks.

My dad takes his car to his repair shop.

- Do you know where that is? - Yeah.

It's just down the street...

But the ocean's depths

refused to swallow me.

I lifted my uncomprehending eyes to the heavens

and saw instead the earth.

This guy likes to play in riots...

I had reached my destination.

...so let's give him a riot.

Yeah. Yeah. Let's mess this guy up!

- Hell, yeah! - Bah!

They'd left me for dead.

The fiends who'd doubtless butchered my kin.

But now I was returned upon my corpse boat,

a spectre of revenge,

riding the flow tide home.

- Yeah! Yeah!

- This it? - Yeah. Upstairs.

Okay, okay. I hear you.

- You can quit banging.

Just give me a second.

- Get him! - Yeah!

Get that dog!

- Worry about yourself, scumbag.

No.

- Derf! - Oh, man.

Derf! That's enough!

He's a goner. We gotta get out of here!

This is where we hold our conversation.

It commences when you surprise me with the news

that you and Dreiberg are sleeping together.

You... know about me and Dan?

No. But in a few moments, you're going to tell me.

Ugh! Jon, I can't take your predestination crap

right now.

It makes no sense

that you can be surprised by anything

when you can see time in all directions.

Everything is preordained, even my responses.

So the most powerful being in the universe

is just... a puppet following a script?

We are all puppets, Laurie.

I am just a puppet who can see the strings.

There is no future. There is no past.

Time is simultaneous.

Ugh! Jon, how can I debate Earth's destiny

when you know the outcome?

Help me understand here.

What was your earliest memory?

I don't know.

When my folks split, I guess.

He couldn't understand

why I'd hold a grudge...

I remember them arguing, but...

It's different for him.

And I just couldn't sustain the anger anymore.

God! You need therapy.

No. It's gone.

No. It is not.

It is still here.

Let yourself see it.

Look, for starters,

he was there, okay?

And he was actually gentle.

I was five, I think.

Do you have any idea what gentleness means

for a guy like that?

I snuck downstairs

to play with a snow globe.

It means a broken marriage

and an uncertain future for our child.

My child! That's what this is all about, remember?

My dad was always

- yelling at me... - Laurel Jane!

...because he knew I wasn't his.

What are you doing down here?

Pretty sure my real dad was Hooded Justice,

my mom's old boyfriend.

Anyway, I...

My dad was a domineering bully

like most of the men I've been...

But Dan's... not like that.

He's gentle.

Someone you can pour your troubles out to.

A receptive lover.

You mean... you're sleeping with Dreiberg?

But... you already know.

- You said-- - I said many times

that you were my only link,

my only concern with the world.

What does it say that when you left me,

I left Earth?

Now that you have replaced me,

that link is shattered.

Don't you see the futility of asking me to save a world

I no longer have any stake in?

Jon, don't be ridiculous.

Earth's too important to hinge on one relationship.

Not to me.

My red world here means more to me

than your blue one.

I will show you.

Cowering down here in sludge

doing nothing but conjuring names on screens.

Computer unnecessary.

This face is all I need.

Give me smallest finger on man's hand.

I'll produce information about mask killer.

Hey, you needed your spare costume,

I needed time for research.

And now we need to put our heads together on this.

You said the Comedian told Moloch about an island

and a plot against Jon,

and I think the plot

had to be the cancer-scare media attack

that sent Jon off the planet.

Now, check this out.

I finally got a breakthrough

investigating Dimensional Developments,

the company that employed Jon's alleged cancer victims.

They also owned

the Institute for Extraspatial Studies.

And look, Nova Express is connected.

They published the cancer list.

And all of these companies appear to be funded

by Pyramid Deliveries.

Pyramid?

That means something to you?

Moloch's illegal cancer meds...

delivered by Pyramid.

God, Moloch was in deep. And probably didn't know it.

If his place was bugged by these companies...

They'd know about Comedian's visit to Moloch.

And that Comedian discovered the plot against Jon.

Know of my investigation,

know how to frame me.

- But what about Veidt? - Hm.

The assassination attempt on Adrian doesn't fit the--

Hold... hold on.

Location is Mason's Auto repairs.

Hollis?

Additional units needed

to canvass the area for Knot-Tops.

- Coroner en route. - No.

Body ID-ed as...

- No. - ...Hollis Mason.

Oh, God! Hollis?

Oh, Christ! No!

Sorry.

He was a good man.

I wasn't there.

I should have... I should have been there.

It could be random killing.

Could be another mask killer.

Squeeze underworld, find answers. Take revenge.

No. We don't have time.

We have to--

- His own fault.

Was lazing too long. Forgot how to do things.

Lazing? Lazing?

Who the hell do you think you are?

You live off people while insulting them.

And the only reason nobody complains

is because they think you're a goddamn lunatic!

Do you know how hard it is being your friend?

Daniel, you are a good friend.

I know that.

I'm sorry that it is sometimes difficult.

No. I'm the one who should be sorry.

Shouldn't have said all that.

Let's forget it, huh?

We don't have time for this.

Agreed. The end is nigh.

And Adrian's assassin

is the next piece of the puzzle.

Let's hope the world's smartest man

can help us put it all together

before it's too late.

Mr. President,

Russian tanks are massing in East Germany

in response to alleged "Western alarmism."

CIA thinks this is genuine.

Both our countries have been on full alert this past week.

One spark and it could all go up.

Our analysis of a first strike against their nuclear silos

shows a good chance of success.

Casualties on our side could be 10-20 million.

Well, in the first wave, anyway.

Our tactical and strategic forces worldwide

are standing by on defcon 2.

What are your instructions, Mr. President?

Hm.

We sit, and we wait.

Look, Jon. We don't have time to go sightseeing on Mars,

and this debate is going nowhere fast.

Can you please just spare me the agony

and tell me how this conversation ends?

It ends in tears.

I return to Earth at some point in my future,

and I find streets full of corpses.

But the details are vague.

What?

What do you mean "vague"?

There is some kind of static obscuring the future,

preventing any clear impression.

The electromagnetic pulse of mass warhead detonations

could conceivably cause that.

Oh, my God.

Jon, we can't just fly around Mars

if missiles are about to launch back home.

Humanity might be on the brink of extinction.

Doesn't that bother you?

No, Laurie. That does not bother me.

Life is a highly overrated phenomenon.

Mars gets along perfectly without a single microorganism.

Its surface is a constantly changing topographical map,

flowing and shifting in ripples 10,000 years wide.

It is called chaotic terrain.

Yeah, well, our lives have chaotic terrain, too.

I mean, think about when we first met

at that Crimebusters thing in the '60s.

...banding together as the Crimebusters.

It doesn't mean squat!

Remember how that all fell to pieces?

It was even more chaotic after you left.

Laurel Jane, right? Sally's kid?

Uh... yeah.

I caught your act in there. You were pretty cool.

Hm. You didn't grow up too bad yourself.

Thanks.

Your, uh, mom ever talk about me much?

Mm, not really.

Figures.

You got her eyes,

even that little mole.

Ain't got her hair, but otherwise you're like her.

You're a looker.

- Take your hands off her!

Hey, Sal. Long time no see.

Not long enough in my book.

Are there any depths you won't sink to?

We were just talking. Can't a man talk to his...

his old friend's daughter?

What do you think I am?

I know what you are, Edward Blake!

I've known for 25 years.

And don't you ever forget that.

I thought we'd settled all that a long time ago.

Things like that don't get settled,

and they're not gonna happen to my daughter.

Come on. We're leaving right now.

Of course, in the moment,

I didn't know what that bastard had done.

- Mom drove us three blocks...

...stopped the car,

and then it all came pouring out.

Her pain, her fears,

and what Blake did to her.

I carried that with me for years.

At some point, I crossed paths with Blake

and a few too many drinks.

And I was a mean drunk.

Juspeczyk, huh?

Took your grandmother's name over Jupiter?

I see you didn't take your father's last name either.

- What's that to you? - Nothing.

Still see your mom in you.

She was a peach.

Is that what you told her before you beat her,

before you tried to rape her?

What kind of a man forces a woman into having sex

against her will?

Only... once.

With seven scotches in me,

and one in my hand,

I let him have it.

And then, you got angry,

and teleported us out of there.

At least then you seemed to understand

the chaotic terrain of our lives.

Why does it matter less now?

I read atoms, Laurie.

I see the ancient spectacle

that birthed the world beneath us.

Beside this, human life is brief and mundane.

I'm done.

Land this thing.

Take me home.

As you wish.

You said this would end in tears.

You were wrong.

Maybe you're wrong about streets full of corpses, too.

Laurie, you complained that I refused

to see existence in human terms.

But you are refusing to see through my viewpoint.

If you would just allow yourself

to see the whole continuum,

the patterns of life, then you would understand.

Instead, you deliberately shut out understanding

- as if you are afraid.

Her pain...

I'm not afraid.

And what Blake did to her.

I'm just through with looking back

on my stupid memories.

I carried that with me for years.

I'm know what you are, Edward Blake.

I've known for 25 years.

What kind of a man forces a woman into having sex

against her will?

What happened was 40 years ago.

- It's history. - Only... once.

I'm not afraid.

Even the grimy parts of it...

I'm not...

...keep getting brighter all the time.

God! You need therapy.

My child!

My dad was always

yelling at me...

Laurel Jane!

...because he knew it wasn't his.

Laurel Jane, right? Sally's kid?

Can't a man talk to his... his old friend's daughter?

He's...

You didn't grow up too bad yourself.

He's not my...

Still see your mom in you.

You got her eyes.

Your, uh, mom ever talk about me much?

No.

And I just couldn't sustain

the anger anymore.

And he was actually gentle.

I thought we'd settled all that a long time ago.

Getting old,

you get a different perspective.

Can't a man talk to his...

...his old friend's daughter?

No.

No!

No, no, no.

Blake, you bastard!

I will never, ever call you my father!

You're right.

My life's a joke.

My life... all life...

meaningless.

I disagree.

What?

I do not think your life is meaningless.

But... why?

You... changed my mind.

For my entire existence,

I have longed to see a thermodynamic miracle,

an event with odds

so great against it ever happening,

that it is effectively impossible

like oxygen spontaneously turning into gold.

In every human coupling,

a thousand-million sperms vie for a single egg.

Multiply those odds by countless generations,

against the odds of your ancestors being alive,

meeting,

siring this precise son,

that exact daughter,

until one day, your mother loves a man

she has every reason to hate.

And out of that union,

of the thousand-million children

competing for fertilization,

it was you,

only you that emerged.

To distill so specific a form

from that chaos of improbability,

is like turning air into gold.

That is the crowning unlikelihood,

the thermodynamic miracle.

But, if I'm...

if my birth is a thermodynamic miracle,

you could say that about anyone else in the world.

Yes. The world is so full of people,

so crowded with these miracles,

that they become commonplace.

And we forget...

I forget what they truly are.

Now, from your vantage point,

I see the Earth.

Dry your eyes, Laurie,

for you are life, rarer than a quark

and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg,

the clay in which the forces that shape all things

leave their fingerprints most clearly.

Dry your eyes, and let's go home.

Not like him. Building deserted.

- Works here late every night. - Found his daily planner.

Yesterday's entry... "Leave for Karnak."

That's his private base in the Antarctic.

So much for asking him for help.

This chart, analysis of global crises.

War, famine, environmental decline.

Crisis lines converge mid '90s.

Optimistic.

Crisis arrives decade early,

unless we get lead on Pyramid Deliveries.

Oh, shit.

Veidt Enterprises holdings includes Pyramid Deliveries,

Dimensional Developments,

Nova Express,

the Institute for Extraspatial Studies.

Adrian owns them, Rorschach.

He owns and controls all of them.

But Veidt was target of assassin.

Maybe, maybe not.

We need to find Adrian fast.

Rorschach's journal,

November 1st, 1985.

Final entry.

Dreiberg convinced Veidt is behind everything.

Cannot imagine more dangerous opponent.

Faster than either of us.

Could kill us both there in Antarctic snow.

Nobody would ever know.

Return from mission seems unlikely.

Hope the world survives long enough

for anyone to read this,

so people will know the truth of this conspiracy

that Adrian Veidt is responsible.

For my own part, I regret nothing.

I've lived life free from compromise.

I step into the shadow now, without complaint.

Not the sort of snow you're used to in California,

Mr. Roth.

I am as pleasantly surprised by a coke-joke

from the world-famous Adrian Veidt,

as I am your gracious invitation to Karnak here.

Your Antarctic retreat is breathtaking,

to say the least.

And the name, Karnak.

Egyptian in origin, correct?

Yes. You've done your homework.

Not enough to keep up with you, I'm sure.

Hello, Mr. Veidt.

You'll be happy to know the delivery arrived

in perfect condition.

Excellent news, my friends.

I've brought you an excellent wine to celebrate.

Ah. Ramses II, also known as Ozymandias,

your namesake as a superhero.

Tell us more about your path to becoming Ozymandias.

Oh, certainly.

I'd say my journey began after my parents died.

They left me with a lot of money,

but I gave it all to charity when I was 17.

I wanted to prove that I could accomplish anything I wanted...

- Shall we prepare your dinner? - No.

Work comes first.

...only guidance was inspiration

from the one human with whom I felt any kinship,

Alexander of Macedonia.

As a brilliant, young army commander,

Alexander swept through many countries,

ruled without barbarism,

and instituted the world's greatest center of learning

in Egypt.

Determined to measure my success against his,

I retraced my hero's steps...

Nova Express interview

is ready for your review before broadcast.

The planet is currently swarming in events,

and I need to review them all.

I need information in its most concentrated form.

...where some say you've even learned

how to catch a bullet in your bare hands!

We shall retire to enjoy your generous gift.

We know that you prefer to be alone down here.

Yes.

Alexander united the civilized world...

All alone.

But only while he lived.

Just me and the world.

The wisdom of the pharaohs

inspired the world

for generations beyond their passing.

Adopting Ramses II's Greek name,

and Alexander's free-booting style,

I began my path... to conquest.

Conquest not of men,

but the evils that beset them.

The channels change every 100 seconds

creating random images,

allowing subliminal hints of the future

to come through.

A jigsaw puzzle model of tomorrow.

I see a juxtaposition

of wish-fulfillment violence and infantile imagery,

evocative of desire to regress, be free of responsibility.

I see increased sexual imagery, implying an erotic undercurrent

not uncommon in times of conflict.

This all says war.

I will invest accordingly.

Everybody's scared. You can feel it.

I estimated

I was not far from Davidstown...

Just waiting for the nukes to start dropping.

I was sure that by now

the place had been overrun

by the Freighter's brigands.

At the end of my journey,

all that remained to me now was revenge

against those who had killed my family, my crew,

and left me for dead.

Davidstown slept,

deserted save for silence.

Hard to believe we're finally going home.

I'll drink to that.

I arrived at my former residence,

careful not to rouse the butchers occupying it.

Unaware that death was among them...

They'd know its dark embrace without ever understanding why.

One, however, was awake.

Frantic, lest he should raise alarms,

I set upon him.

In cataract darkness,

- I bludgeoned him.

His screams unnervingly shrill.

No pirates came, but something worse.

I looked up into faces familiar,

- save for their terror.

The children wailed.

I looked down at the figure beneath me.

Through puffed and bloodied lips she mouthed my name.

There came an understanding so large,

it left no room for sanity.

I ran, but the knowledge of my damnation paced me,

gloating, celebrating its awful victory.

Behind me, a Lynch mob howled.

Eventually, I came to an ash-colored shore,

a dismal black ocean stretching before me.

How had I reached this appalling position,

with love, only love, as my guide?

How had my noble intentions,

led me to atrocity?

Pausing, I stood, panting, sobbing,

...listening to the windborne sound

of my pursuers draw closer.

Planning to resume my flight, I raised my head and saw her.

The black freighter and its accursed inhabitants

seemed to be waiting, waiting for me.

They'd come to Davidstown

to collect the only prize they'd ever valued.

Claim the only soul they'd ever truly wanted.

I was a horror,

amongst horrors I must dwell.

I swam towards the anchored freighter.

A rope snaked down.

Spluttering, I grabbed it.

And from the decks above, a cheer went up,

both gross and black.

It's stench affronting heaven.

Manners.

Now.

What can I do for you?

We know you're behind everything.

The Comedian's murder, Jon's exile.

Christ! Adrian,

we're on the brink of World War III

because of you.

Well, Nixon and his attack dog, Blake,

most certainly did more in that regard.

Have you ever read the last speech

Kennedy was supposed to deliver?

"We in this country, in this generation,

are by destiny, rather than by choice,

the watchmen on the walls of freedom."

But in a world of tyranny, crosshairs watched him.

Blake's, most probably.

- What the hell

are you getting at, Adrian?

It was then that I began to realize

my adventuring was a...

hollow crusade against such forces,

a dark comedy clarified by the Comedian himself

in '66.

I'm sure you remember the Crimebusters fiasco,

where he discussed nuclear war's inevitability.

He opened my eyes to the truth.

Only the best comedians accomplish that.

That's when I understood what I must do.

Alexander's methods, unification by conquest

would not halt the race

toward mutually-assured destruction

between East and West.

But Alexander was also known

for untying the unsolvable Gordian knot...

by severing it with a sword.

The same unconventional solution

would be required

to untangle our global problems.

And my sword

would be history's greatest practical joke.

A joke discovered by Comedian.

Blake was returning from Nicaragua by airship

when he spotted my private island.

He investigated and discovered my artists and scientists

creating a genetically-altered, monstrous new life-form

and our research in teleportation.

Teleportation?

But only Jon can teleport.

Jon proved it possible, and certainly more desirable

than the electric vehicles he developed.

So, I capitalized on his endeavors

by developing the basic patent for the public spark-hydrants

that power his vehicles.

I financed Dimensional Developments,

and the Institute for Extraspatial Studies

with the proceeds.

Both developed new technologies

spun-off from Jon's government research.

But without his guiding mind,

teleportation proved... limited.

Anything living died explosively on arrival.

Talking in circles.

You murdered Comedian to keep him quiet.

Unfortunately for Blake,

I was monitoring Moloch's residence

when his practiced cynicism cracked,

and he began to spill fragments of my plan.

I regret his accidental involvement.

With the fate of the world, and all humanity at stake,

I couldn't risk the possibility of Blake revealing my plan

- in its entirety to anyone...

...especially to Jon.

Being too powerful

and unpredictable to fit my plans,

I plotted his removal for years.

Thus his past associates

were exposed to radiation and cultivated as weapons

against Jon's increasingly fragile attachment to mankind.

With Jon and Blake neutralized,

your mask-killer investigation then needed stopping.

I staged my own assassination attempt

to place me beyond suspicion and cast doubt on the theory.

The unwitting assassin I hired was fed a cyanide capsule.

And Rorschach was framed for Moloch's murder

to close the loose ends.

Adrian, you're talking about faulty teleportation

and genetic monsters and ending war.

How does any of this mad science make sense?

My plan is quite simple.

Teleport my creature to New York.

The ensuing explosion will wipe out half the city.

The aftermath will convince the governments of Earth

that we are under attack by beings from another world.

Instead of fighting each other,

for the first time the human race will unite

against a common foe

and usher in a new age of global peace.

Adrian, listen to me.

You're not well.

You need help.

I'm just glad we got here

before you had a chance to try and do it.

Do it?

Dan, I'm not some comic book villain.

Do you seriously think I'd explain my masterstroke

if there was even the slightest chance of you

affecting its outcome?

I did it 35 minutes ago.

Oh, man.

Hm.

Well, it's 11:25. About time to close up, kid.

Hey, how many times you gonna read that junk?

This story don't make sense, man.

That's why I got to read it over.

And my name's Bernie, not "kid."

Bernie? Short for Bernard?

No kidding.

- That's my name... too.

Whoa...

What the...

Ah, Jesus, Derf...

Holy...

Oh, my God!

- Oh, my God!

What... what the hell is that?

I had expected us to return to Earth much earlier.

The interference I had noticed,

it was not a warhead detonation after all.

So what...

Tachyons.

A squall of tachyons.

But where can they be coming from?

I had almost forgotten the delights of uncertainty.

Jon...

I am picking up a strong pulse from the south-polar region.

Jon, get me out of here, please.

Of course.

No one will doubt

the Earth has met a force so dreadful

that it must be repelled,

all former enmities aside.

No one must ever know the truth.

Those who were involved are dead.

Killers killed by killers who killed each other.

A lethal pyramid.

And what about us?

Veidt, of course.

Who else has the intelligence for tachyon interference?

He must have anticipated

my possible discovery of his plot for some time.

All that stuff in New York, Adrian planned it?

Yes. He killed Blake and half of New York.

Excuse me, Rorschach.

I am informing Laurie ten seconds ago.

These tachyons are muddling things up.

Jon, wait!

- Jon! - No!

Have to stop him.

Killed Blake and half of New York.

Yes. He killed Blake and half of New York.

Excuse me, Rorschach.

I am informing Laurie ten seconds ago.

These tachyons are muddling things up.

The static is stronger here.

Hiding behind these tachyons was clever, Veidt.

But this game is stupid.

Very well.

If I must follow this through to the bitter end...

Dan.

Bubastis, forgive me.

Veidt, don't!

Huh. I wasn't actually sure that would work.

Veidt...

you're an asshole.

Oh, shit.

Laurie!

Something else I wasn't sure I would--

I am disappointed, Veidt.

Very disappointed.

Restructuring myself was the first trick I learned.

Did you really think it would kill me?

I have walked across the sun.

I have seen events so tiny and so fast

that they can hardly be said to have occurred at all.

But you?

You are just a man.

And this world's smartest man

means nothing more to me than its smartest termite.

What is that, Veidt?

Another ultimate weapon?

You could say that.

This just in...

We have terrifying images...

Oh, Christ...

What you are about to see may shock you.

...it's an utterly horrible scene here.

...an institute researching other dimensions.

...millions have died here this evening.

No! No!

Could it be alien contact?

Has the Earth been invaded?

Global concern is growing...

...and world leaders are issuing

statements of support across the globe.

We're hearing now that Russian leader

Gorbachev said,

they're evaluating the new threat in New York...

...increasing calls for an immediate peace summit

in Geneva from world leaders...

in a global concerted effort...

Even Russia is suspending military action.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is good news.

The war is over.

War is over.

The war is over.

I did it. I did it!

I saved Earth from hell!

And next I will lift her up toward utopia.

Wait. Next?

You really think you can get away with this?

If you expose me,

you will undo the peace that millions died to achieve.

If you kill me,

you risk investigations that will reveal what happened.

He is correct.

Exposing this plot

results in greater destruction on Earth.

On Mars, you demonstrated life's value.

If we would preserve life here, we must remain silent.

You're right. Jesus.

Rorschach...

we... we...

We have to compromise on this.

No.

Not even in the face of Armageddon.

Never compromise.

Well, in all likelihood, he is of no consequence.

Rorschach is hardly a reliable witness.

Still...

I think I shall meditate in my orrery now.

- Jon?

Where are you going?

Back to America.

People must be told. Evil must be punished.

You know, I cannot let you do that.

Of course. To protect Veidt's new utopia.

One more body amongst foundations

makes little difference.

Well...

what are you waiting for?

Do it.

Rorschach...

Do it.

Do it!

No!

- No, no. - Dan.

God.

I'm here, Dan.

No.

I'm so sorry.

Hello, Jon.

I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk.

I know I've journeyed across the backs

of murdered innocents to save humanity.

But someone had to take the weight

of that awful necessary crime.

Unlike Rorschach, I understand,

without condoning or condemning.

Human affairs cannot be my concern any longer.

I am leaving this galaxy for one... less complicated.

But you'd regained interest in human life.

Yes, I have.

I think I would like to create some.

Goodbye, Adrian.

Before you leave,

I did the right thing, didn't I?

It all worked out in the end.

In the end?

Nothing ends, Adrian.

Nothing ever ends.

Well, despite nearly killing me

with a heart attack,

this is quite a Christmas gift.

I'm just so happy to have my little Laurel back.

- Hair color, aside. - Mother, remember?

It's Sandra and Sam Hollis, now.

Aw!

And Hollis would be so proud that you took his name.

It was the least I could do to honor him.

He was like a second father to me.

And that's why I wanted to visit.

Mom, I found out who my real dad was.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, Laurel. I'm so sorry.

Mom...

- What you must think... - Mom, it doesn't matter.

People's lives take them strange places.

They do strange things,

and sometimes they can't talk about them.

I know how that is.

I love you, Mom.

You never did anything wrong by me.

Bye, Sam. Bye, Sandra.

And don't wait too long to have children.

- I'm an old woman.

- Goodbye, Mom. - Bye, Ms. Jupiter.

You know, maybe that wasn't

such a bad idea of your mother's-

Forget it.

Not yet.

You've been talking about adventuring again,

and I'm not staying home changing diapers.

Nite Owl and Silk Spectre sounds pretty awesome.

- I think I want a new name. - Mm?

And a better costume for protection.

- Mm-hm. - Something leather.

Sure.

And a mask.

Uh...

- Maybe a gun. - Mm...

Seymour, where have you been?

Dimension X?

I just got lunch from Burgers 'n' Borscht.

Don't say it!

I won't have Russian spoken in this office,

ass-kissing peace accord or not.

- What are you doing?

Well, I was gonna eat my lunch.

Three million New Yorkers died,

and you weren't one of them.

Seymour, damn it!

You've got two more pages to fill before you eat.

I thought your column--

Well, you thought wrong.

Nobody's allowed to say bad things

about our "good old buddies," the Russians anymore.

So bang goes a two-page column.

Get some filler somewhere.

Robert Redford says

he'll be running for president in '88.

Seymour, do not dignify absurdities

with coverage.

Nobody wants a cowboy actor in the White House.

Then I guess it's something

from the crank file?

Yes, yes.

Whatever's within your limited abilities.

Just take responsibility for once in your life.

Run whatever you want.

I leave it entirely in your hands.

The atomic age bite-sized snack

that'll make you glow from head to toe.

A chain reaction of flavor satisfaction

that'll make your taste buds explode.

Fruity fallout and a delicious molten center

that'll blow you all the way to China.

Mm, Mmetldowns!