Journal: OCTOBER 13, 1985. 8:30 P.M.

Meeting with Veidt left bad taste in mouth. He is pampered and decadent, betraying even his shallow, liberal affections. Possibly homosexual? Must remember to investigate further.

Dreiberg as bad. A flabby failure who sits whimpering in his basement. Why are so few of us left active, healthy, and without personality disorders?

The first Nite Owl runs an auto repair shop.

The first Silk Spectre is a bloated, aging whore, dying in a Californian rest resort.

Captain Metropolis was decapitated in a car crash back in '74.

Mothman's in an asylum up in Maine.

The Silhouette retired in disgrace, murdered six weeks later by a minor adversary seeking revenge.

Dollar Bill got shot. Hooded Justice went missing in '55.

The Comedian is dead.

Only two names remaining on my list. Both share private quarters at Rockefeller Military Research Center. I shall go to them. I shall go and tell the indestrucible man that someone plans to murder him.