There are heroes who fight crime with magic rings, or with the powers they have brought with them from distant planets. But all these pale into insignificance beside the astral awesomeness of The Spectre.
I know of many things, Kryptonian... pain... passion... pride... I know the unspoken secrets of your own immortal soul! You are one of the most powerful beings in all of creation -- and yet, in so many ways, you are little more than a child! There is so much you have to learn... perhaps it is time your education began in earnest! Come with me Superman -- on a journey of revelation!
You are responsible for countless murders. You have spread terror and fueled killers and sadists throughout the universe. Save the Anti-Monitor, you have more blood on your hands than any being I have ever faced. You will die today, Parallax--even if Hal Jordan must die with you!
Wrong, Corrigan! Our relationship has undergone a severe change... but I did succeed! My sacrifice was not a failure, for we both survive, even if only one at a time now-- sharing one entity... and the same body!
Soon you will receive the final justice to which I've delivered you... It's leniency or severity is not mine to define or assert. Avenging the spirits of those you murdered-- eliminating you from Earth-- was my only concern. But know this: your deed were hideous... and in "going easy" on you I have defied my charge to mete punishment equal to the crimes.
Power, Madame Xanadu... is seductive... It nearly kept me... lulling me... luring me onto new explorations of it... And so, power is also... destructive. It lied to me, showing me glimpses... feeding me tastes of my former omnipotence... all the while... actually killing me. Out there... like that, like a mist... linked to a thousand minds and a million thoughts... aware of it all... I seemed to take strength from the very pavement... from every brick in every wall, every rat in every gutter... every mortal caught in the miasma of my consciousness... and they were mine. I had power over all of it, everything I touched... I almost... stayed out there... until it would've been too late... thinking it would have been merely forever. The ecstasy in my new power... it was only the bliss of surrender... and release.
A void exists and needs to be filled. No one can ever be replaced. Not your wife, not Terry Sloane, but their passing leaves a void that needs to be filled. Mr. Terrific served a purpose and that purpose isn't filled by Superman or Batman or even the Spectre. He worked at the street level. There is a need for that kinda hero today. You game?